#i need to get out of that way of thinking cause it’s making my life miserable

[allpiesforourown]

Okay here's my Lan Qiren apologist masterpost

"He had Lan Wangji whipped! He's an abuser!"

That was Lan Wangji's punishment for injuring 33 Lan elders while defending a demonic cultivator who caused innumerable deaths in the cultivation community. You need to remember the setting of this story: Madame Yu whipped Wei Ying half to death just because she went "you didn't do anything wrong, your general existence is just mildly annoying to me." Lan Qiren deciding Lan Wangji get one lash for every person he hurt is NOTHING in comparison to the punishment he would have gotten if anyone else was in charge and it was the only way to clear his name.

2. "The Lan sect rules he enforces are too strict."

First of all, Lan Qiren is an old Asian person. I feel like that would be enough to make my point, but I will continue regardless.

The Lans have so many rules because they have extreme self-regulation issues when it comes to their emotions. We've seen Lan Wangji's dad ruin his life by trying to atticwife his lover, but Lan Wangji wasn't any better. If you've read the incense burner extra you know he got his first crush at 15 and his brain immediately went to fantasizing about violently assaulting Wei Ying in the library. Their hundreds of rules are stifling because they're supposed to be. If the Lans don't try to contain themselves they will ruin their lives and the lives of people they care about.

Is "don't talk while you're eating" even that extreme of a household rule? Like every family has some variation of "don't do ____ at the dinner table" and the Lans having their own version is not that insane.

3. "He was against Lan Wangji loving Wei Wuxian."

I need you to spend like. 2 minutes putting yourself in Lan Qiren's shoes.

Imagine you are Lan Qiren. Imagine you find out your brother broke his family apart by forcing his wife to stay with him. Lan Qiren was just a man who was thrust into not only taking care of the Lan clan, one of the biggest cultivation sects you can think of, but also his two traumatized nephews. Imagine cleaning up the mess your brother left you while having to raise two children that aren't yours.

Then you see your nephew, who you have raised like your own son, helplessly pining after the infamous demonic cultivator who has rejected him and teased him. You watch him turn against and injure his own family members to protect a literal criminal.

Then he comes home holding the child of the man he loves and you let him keep that baby and raise him. Because you see yourself in him. You see someone who just lost a loved one who was not a good person but someone you loved regardless. How many times do you think he saw Lan Wangji raising Lan Yuan and remembered himself raising someone else's children because their father was no longer there?

And then after all that Lan Qiren had been through, he didn't even try to keep Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian apart once he found out the truth. When Wei Ying explained how he'd been set up, he was one of the first elders in the cultivation community to give him a chance to explain himself. And after that even if he was cold to Wei Ying, he didn't say shit about the two of them having nasty loud gay sex in gusu every night.

I don't care. Lan Qiren hate will always be forced to me, he did literally nothing wrong and if I was in his shoes I would not have been able to handle it

[mononijikayu]

and there was something 'bout you (that now I can't remember) — fushiguro megumi.

Then, you smiled, soft and genuine, the kind that made his heart ache with both joy and longing. “It’s a good thing I have someone like you, though.” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder for just a moment, as if seeking reassurance. “My Megumi.” "My Megumi." you said softly, the words like a balm that soothed every ache, every frustration he’d been holding onto. The way you said his name, it reached down to the deepest part of him, pulling at heartstrings that felt knotted and tired. It made him feel more alive than he ever thought possible, like for just a moment, the world could pause and bask in that glow. It was always like this with you. The way you spoke his name, the way your voice wrapped around it like a melody, made everything else fade away. It was as if the sun itself came out just to light the room when you said Megumi. He knew with a certainty that startled him that he couldn’t live without this, without you.

GENRE: alternate universe - modern no curses au;

WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, fluff, aged up characters, brief one sided romance, eventual romance, slice of life, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, sad ending, physical touch, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, internal conflict, future, letting go, break up, getting back together, depiction of character death, depiction of romance, depiction of internal conflict, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, depiction of illness, mention of illness, mention of loneliness;

WORD COUNT: 21k words

NOTE: when i sent this to my beta reader last night, it was like 17k words. it ended with 5k more words than it needed to be. but with how i write, i just end up being the most unpredictable person. even to myself. i wanted to write about megumi cause i missed him. i hope yall guys understand. anyway, i hope you enjoy this a lot!!! i'll see you soon on the next one!!! i love you all <3

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MEETING YOU FELT LIKE DESTINY. And he would not have it any other way. If one was being honest, you were the only other constant in Fushiguro Megumi’s life – besides his sister Tsumiki and Gojo Satoru. But that was to be expected. He trusted no one.

He likes to think he was a tough crowd, that he wasn’t easy to please. But Megumi expected that. After all, what child wouldn’t have that issue, when his dad left him and his sister to fend for themselves at such a young age? He was bound to have mistrust for everyone and anyone who can’t prove themselves. 

He hadn’t expected to make a friend, not really. If he was being honest, talking to people wasn’t something he excelled at, and reading others’ expressions felt like a puzzle he was never meant to solve.

He was and always will be someone who had a hard time with people. But then there was you, full of unexpected warmth, approaching him on the playground, holding out your prized Charizard card in exchange for his Jigglypuff. You seemed to be the exception. 

“Hey, you!” You pointed at him like he was a riddle you had just solved. Megumi blinked, glancing around to make sure you weren’t talking to someone else.

“Yes?” He answered, the single word sounding more like a question.

You marched up to him, unbothered by the silence that followed. “I’ll trade you my Charizard for your Jigglypuff.”

Megumi’s brows knit together in disbelief. He stared down at the holographic card you offered, one that every kid in school would beg to have, and then at the tiny, pink Jigglypuff in his hands that no one ever wanted.

“Why?” he asked, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Charizard is powerful. Why do you want this weak card?”

“Because it’s cute! And I love cute things! Well…everything cute, really!” you said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. 

Your smile was bright, eyes crinkling as if you were laughing at a secret only you knew. When he slowly handed over the Jigglypuff card, your face lit up with such joy that it made Megumi feel like he had done something incredible. You hugged the card to your chest and then looked at him with a grin. 

“Thank you for trading with me! Do you wanna be friends?”

Fushiguro Megumi stared at you for a good few seconds, stunned by your straightforwardness. You were smiling all throughout that. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. And he could feel it, even then.

You pulled him so close to you with your magnetic pull. He spun around you almost immediately, like the moon embracing the earth. But before he could answer, you added with a playful tilt of your head. 

“I’ll even let you win in tag! And…and I can share my candies! My mommy gave me a lot to share!”

A small, surprised smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He didn’t notice it himself at first. But he likes to think that he only remembered how he smiled years later, when you pointed out to him. Yet all he could focus on is how you smiled at him. How you were so happy, waiting for his answer to your invitation. 

“You’re on.” he said, his voice soft but resolute.

That continued on as you both found yourself living in bodies that grew older and minds that grew wiser. Years passed and yet you had only gotten closer to one another. Both of you were now in middle school, and almost everyday since then — you had always been together.

Fushiguro Megumi could not remember a day where you both were ever even apart. Just one smile and he was hooked. His morning, his noon and night would be consumed by you. And he rinses and repeats. 

The playground turned into hallways and classrooms, and those silly childhood games were replaced with quiet study sessions and whispered jokes. But the feeling you gave him never changed.

He still felt like he was holding something rare and precious whenever you smiled at him like that. Everything about your smile was the most precious warmth he could ever feel, that he admits.

One evening, as you both sat under the orange sky, your laughter from an earlier joke fading into content silence, you turned to him, resting your chin on your knee. “Hey, Megumi?”

He glanced over, meeting your eyes that were as warm as ever. “Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about how lucky we are to have met?” you said, your voice light but sincere.

Megumi looked down at his hands for a moment, feeling the weight of your question. “Yeah.” he replied, his voice low. Then, looking back at you with a rare, soft smile, he added, “More than you know.”

You blinked in surprise, cheeks turning pink. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Megumi shrugged, eyes glinting with a teasing challenge. “Figure it out, you dummy.”

As your laughter rang out, he knew, in that moment, that he was irrevocably in love with you. He always had been, and he always would be.

Your laughter bubbled into the quiet evening air, filling the space around you both with a warmth that wrapped itself around Megumi like a familiar embrace. You playfully nudged his shoulder, eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

“Oh, so now you’re mysterious, huh? Fushiguro Megumi, you’re supposed to be the serious one!”

Megumi huffed a soft chuckle, a rare sound that made your heart skip. “Maybe I’ve been keeping secrets all this time, you know?” he said, his tone light, though there was a weight behind it that he didn’t dare show.

Your eyebrows rose as you leaned in, eyes narrowing with curiosity. “Secrets? Like what?” You poked his arm playfully, eyes alight with mischief. “Spill it, or I’ll never let you live it down.”

He met your gaze for a moment, searching your face, the sunset casting warm shadows across your features. The thought of confessing everything—how many nights he’d spent thinking about you, worrying about you, loving you, it all made everything tighten in his chest. But he pushed it back down, letting the familiar wall settle back into place.

“There are some secrets that are better left unsaid, you dummy.” he said, his voice steady but distant.

You pouted, crossing your arms with a huff. “You always do that. You’re always hiding things from me, Megumi. You know you can trust me, right?”

His eyes softened, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I know, I know.” he said, pausing before adding. “But you shouldn’t hide things from me either. Like when your boyfriend stands you up.”

The playful expression fell from your face, replaced by surprise. You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless. “How did you—”

“I just know.” he interrupted, looking away, his jaw tightening as he bit back the frustration that had been building inside him for weeks.

He hated the way you always made excuses for people who didn’t deserve you. He hated even more that you loved the wrong ones. You sighed, the tension in your shoulders easing as you gave a small shrug.

“He’s busy, you know he’s on the baseball team.” you said, though your voice was thin, even to your own ears.

Megumi clenched his jaw, swallowing the urge to argue, to tell you that being “busy” wasn’t a good enough reason. But he knew it wouldn’t change anything. He didn’t want to ruin this moment, didn’t want to see you upset. So, he said nothing.

Then, you smiled, soft and genuine, the kind that made his heart ache with both joy and longing. “It’s a good thing I have someone like you, though.” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder for just a moment, as if seeking reassurance. “My Megumi.”

"My Megumi." you said softly, the words like a balm that soothed every ache, every frustration he’d been holding onto.

The way you said his name, it reached down to the deepest part of him, pulling at heartstrings that felt knotted and tired. It made him feel more alive than he ever thought possible, like for just a moment, the world could pause and bask in that glow.

It was always like this with you. The way you spoke his name, the way your voice wrapped around it like a melody, made everything else fade away. It was as if the sun itself came out just to light the room when you said Megumi. He knew with a certainty that startled him that he couldn’t live without this, without you.

The air between you was heavy, charged with words unsaid and emotions kept at bay. Megumi felt his fingers twitch again, that familiar pull to reach for you, to close the space that always felt like miles, even when it was only inches.

You turned to look at him, eyebrows knitting in concern as you noticed the silence. “Megumi, are you okay?” 

Your voice was soft, searching, the way it always was when you sensed something under the surface. He forced a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

“Thinking? Now that’s dangerous!” you joked, nudging him lightly, your eyes sparkling with mischief. It was an attempt to bring back the lightness, and he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, a sound that surprised even him.

“I guess I can’t argue with that.” he replied, his voice low, but there was warmth in it, the kind reserved only for you.

You tilted your head, studying him like he was one of your favorite puzzles to solve. “Well, whatever it is, you know I’m here, right? You don’t have to keep things to yourself.”

The sincerity in your eyes, in the way you said those words, nearly broke him. He swallowed hard, willing the emotions to stay under control. I know, he wanted to say. And that’s why this hurts so much.

“I know.” he said instead, and it was all he could manage. The truth weighed heavy on his tongue, but he bit it back, holding on to this moment instead; the warmth of your presence, the sound of your laughter lingering in the air.

For now, this was enough. He would live in the warmth of your voice calling his name, over and over, in this moment that felt like forever.

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HE ALREADY EXPECTED FOR THIS TO HAPPEN. Fushiguro Megumi came as soon as he got your call. How could he not show up? He had to. You needed him. More than ever, especially now. The moment he heard your shaky voice, his heart clenched with worry and anger. He had to get to you. He had to put his anger aside.

But he can't help it. He'd never liked him. That jerk of an ex-boyfriend of yours. And now all he could think is, how dare he break your heart? He was unworthy from the beginning and now he thinks he gets the right to you miserable?

His mind raced, weaving through every memory of seeing you smile, laugh, and light up at the smallest things, now replaced by the image of you in pain. Even that thought makes him even more angrier. He hated it. More than anything, more than you jerk of an ex-boyfriend.

Megumi felt like he was going to lose it. He always loses it when it comes to you. Everything about you was something that he felt like he had to cherish and treasure. And so, he bears everything about you, happiness or joy, as a part of him.

Because he loved you. More than anyone else in the world, he liked to believe. His love wasn’t flashy or loud; it was quiet, deep, and constant, like an unspoken promise woven through the moments you shared. 

And yet, people claimed to love you and then hurt you without a second thought. The unfairness of it all made his love even stronger, more resolute. It was a love that stayed in the silent spaces between words, in the way he noticed when you were tired, or remembered how you took your tea, or lingered on your laugh long after you’d left.

But saying it out loud? That was different. He didn’t think he could do that—not now, when you were hurting. Now, when the shattered pieces of your heart weren’t his to fix, but his to hold steady until you could piece them back together.

The rain came down harder as he found you, sitting alone on the cold, wet bench, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Your hair was plastered to your face, water streaming down your cheeks, indistinguishable from your tears. You looked up when he called your name, and the raw anguish in your eyes made his breath hitch.

Everything was soaking through his jacket as he searched the park.  But he could care less. Not when he stood here, watching you continue to sit on the bench under the dim glow of a streetlight, your knees pulled to your chest and your shoulders trembling with silent sobs. The sight made something twist in his chest so fiercely it hurt.

“Hey.” he called softly as he approached, his voice steady but urgent. You didn’t look up, too lost in your world of hurt, raindrops mingling with the tears that fell freely down your cheeks.

“Megumi…….” Your voice cracked, barely audible over the pounding rain.

He dropped down in front of you without hesitation, his jeans soaking through as he knelt in the puddles. “Hey.” he whispered, reaching out to push a wet strand of hair away from your face. His touch was gentle, deliberate, as if afraid you’d break. 

“Are you alright?” The question was hollow, a placeholder for everything he couldn’t put into words.

A humorless laugh escaped your lips, bitter and fragile. “No. Not even close.”

Megumi’s jaw clenched. He wanted to say so much—that you deserved better, that he would give you the world if you let him, that he’d never let anyone hurt you if he could help it. But all he could do was cup your face in his hands, fingers warm against your chilled skin. 

“I’m here, okay?” he said, the words weighted with every unsaid promise. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You let out a shuddering breath, your eyes filling with fresh tears as you looked at him. His eyes, dark and fierce, were fixed on you with such intensity it made your chest ache in a different way, something softer, more hopeful. For a moment, the world around you blurred, the rain and cold forgotten in the heat of his gaze.

A fresh wave of tears welled up, but this time they weren’t just from pain. They were from the sheer relief of having him here, solid and real, when everything else felt like it was crumbling. He hated seeing you fall apart like this. He hated seeing you in so much grief about things you didn’t even need to grieve. 

“I can’t believe he—” You started, voice cracking, but Megumi cut you off with a shake of his head.

“No, no.” he said firmly, his dark eyes meeting yours with a fierce protectiveness. “You don’t deserve any of this. You deserve someone who would never make you feel this way.”

A shiver ran down your spine, part from the cold and part from the warmth in his voice. The rain dripped from his hair, tiny rivulets running down his face, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t move. He just stayed there, eyes fixed on you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Slowly, you reached out and wrapped your arms around him, clinging tightly as if he was the last piece keeping you together. He pulled you close, the rain forgotten as he whispered, “I’ve got you. Always.”

“Why can’t everyone be like you, Megumi?” you whispered, the question hanging between you, filled with everything he couldn’t say.

He closed his eyes, the weight of his love pressing against his ribcage, aching to be let out. But he simply pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. 

“Maybe someday, I’m certain about it all.” he whispered. “You’ll see that some people are.”

In that moment, as he held you close under the downpour, Megumi vowed that even if he never said it out loud, you would always know it in the way he stayed. And as the storm raged on around you, for the first time that night, you felt a little bit safer.

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IF YOU WERE BEING HONEST, LIFE WAS GOOD NOW. And it was because you had Fushiguro Megumi. Around Megumi, for the first time that night, you felt a little bit safer. His presence anchored you, solid and reassuring, as if the world could rage on around you, but you’d be alright as long as he was there. 

The days that followed that stormy night were different. Your shared moments became longer, and your conversations deepened. You found yourself opening up to him in a way you hadn’t with anyone else, and he listened, offering small, thoughtful words that seemed to echo in your mind long after he said them.

Megumi and you became closer, like pieces of a puzzle finally finding their fit. You leaned on him more, seeking the comfort of his steady, unwavering support. Whether it was the simple act of sharing a quiet study session or walking side by side down the crowded school halls, you started to feel his presence as a constant, a pillar in your life. And with each passing moment, Megumi found himself falling deeper.

It was in the little things—the way your laughter returned, hesitant at first, then full and bright whenever he made a rare, dry joke. You’d throw your head back, eyes crinkled with genuine joy, and he’d pretend to be focused on something else just so he could hide his smile.

“You’re not even funny, you know that?” you teased one afternoon, nudging him with your shoulder as you both walked through the park, the sun filtering through the leaves.

“Oh? I didn’t know you laughed at unfunny things.” he replied, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I guess I make exceptions.”

It was also in the way your hand would find him during the quiet moments—when you both sat on the school steps, waiting for the last of the rain to clear, or when you talked late at night under a sky full of stars.

Your touch was unconscious, as if you didn’t realize the effect it had on him, but each time it sent warmth radiating through his chest, melting the layers of doubt he wore like armor.

One evening, as the sky painted itself in hues of pink and orange, you sat together on the small bench in your favorite park. The air was filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets. You turned to him, your eyes soft and thoughtful. 

“Do you ever wonder why some people come into your life at the exact moment you need them?”

He met your gaze, the question settling between you. His heart thudded, a mix of hope and nerves. “Yeah.” he said, his voice steady but quiet. “I think about it a lot.”

You tilted your head, studying him with a smile that made his pulse quicken. “I’m glad you’re in mine, Megumi.”

The simple statement was enough to send a rush of warmth flooding through him. He looked away, the hint of pink dusting his cheeks, and muttered, “Me too.”

Moments like these made him realize just how deeply he’d fallen for you. Fushiguro Tsumiki had caught on, of course. She knew Megumi best in the world. She’d grin knowingly whenever he brought up your name, and she wasn’t subtle about giving him nudges when you came over. Megumi thinks he would have no peace at home knowing all that.

“You need to tell them, your feelings.” she’d say with a pointed look. “They deserve to know.”

Gojo Satoru, in his typical flamboyant manner, took every opportunity to pester him. “If you don’t say something soon, I swear I’m going to set up a banner. ‘Confess, Megumi!’ at your school. It’ll be perfect. I’ll even use sparkles!” he’d joke, bright blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

Megumi would glare, a mix of irritation and anxiety bubbling inside him. But when he was alone, his mind would wander to the what-ifs. What if he told you, and everything changed? What if the easy moments between you became strained? He couldn’t stand the thought of losing this version of you, where your laughter was shared and your touch was easy.

One evening, when you were leaving after spending the day together, you turned back at the door, eyes bright. “Same time tomorrow?” you asked.

He nodded, feeling that familiar warmth bloom in his chest. “Yeah, same time.”

You beamed at him, that smile—the one that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he had a chance. And as you walked away, Megumi felt the pull to call out, to say something, anything.

But the fear gripped him, held him back. For now, he’d stay in the safety of what you had, even as his heart whispered that someday soon, he’d need to be brave enough to reach for more.

And more and more, his sister and Gojo were starting to notice how he’s falling for you. Tsumiki noticed the way he watched you when he thought no one was looking, the way his eyes softened when you spoke. 

After dinner tonight, she caught him staring at his phone after reading a text from you, a small, knowing smile spread across her face. Megumi wasn’t even sure that he was that obvious. But he was.

Everyone was aware, more than he would have liked. It was his private life and yet, it was his own fault how it seeped in the real world. Yet, it was like that when it came to you. He can’t help it. 

“Megumi.” she said, leaning against the kitchen counter, “it’s high time you tell them how you feel.”

He looked up, startled. “What? No. It’s not… I mean—” He fumbled, cheeks turning red as he struggled to find an excuse.

Satoru, who had been lounging nearby and catching every word, let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. Megumi knew that Gojo Satoru was going to annoy him about this. Tsumiki is one thing. But that was his elder sister.

He was bound to just let her get into his life. But it was different when it came to their guardian. He was more of an annoying adult to Megumi. And he didn’t like how he touched his life like that. Even if he knew it was care.

“Kid, if you don’t confess, I’m going to make a banner and announce it to the entire school I teach at, when you visit.” he teased, eyes gleaming mischievously. “It’s so painfully obvious. Even the kids at the school picked up on that fact! Do you know how obvious you have to be that kid Todo picked up on?”

Megumi glared at him, but his usual annoyance didn’t stick. Instead, a flicker of anxiety gnawed at him, deep and stubborn. He knew Tsumiki and Gojo were right. He’d heard the whispers of his own heart long enough; he knew he was in love with you. But the idea of confessing it out loud? Of risking everything he already had with you? It paralyzed him.

“What if… what if it ruins things?” he muttered, looking down at his hands. The idea of you looking at him differently, of you stepping back, distancing yourself—it was unbearable. “What if they don’t feel the same? I don’t want to lose what we have now.”

Tsumiki’s smile softened, and she walked over, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Megumi, you’ll never know unless you try. And if they care about you even half as much as I think they do, nothing will change.”

Satoru chimed in with a rare moment of seriousness. “Megumi, you’re braver than you give yourself credit for. You’ve faced the worst of the world already with Tsumiki. But this? This is one small leap compared to that.”

The words made sense, but fear wrapped around his chest like a vise. Every time he opened his mouth to tell you, doubt clawed its way in. He could picture the worst: your kind eyes turning sad, the warmth between you cooling into awkward silence.

But as days passed and your laughter echoed in his ears, each missed opportunity stung. Every time you looked at him with that bright smile, it chipped away at his fear, replacing it with a longing stronger than any curse he’d faced. And Megumi knew, deep down, that he couldn’t put it off forever.

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IT WAS A RARE DAY OFF FROM SCHOOL. So, it was easy for you to come and call Megumi to hang out. Megumi was someone who had a hard time going with the flow of things. He liked order in his life. But when he is with you, everything is unpredictable.

Everything was a surprise. And so he enjoyed it. He enjoyed letting you wreck his life into things he couldn’t predict. Chaos is livable when he was next to you. And perhaps, you knew that more than he did.  

And today’s request was to go to a skate park. You didn’t know how to skate, nor do you have the balance that allowed you to do so. But you saw an ad for it and you thought that trying was something that would be enjoyable for the two of you. So, Megumi sighed. But he nodded and immediately walked as you practically hopped to the booth where they rented out their skates.

The skate park was buzzing with life when you and Megumi arrived, the warm glow of the setting sun casting a golden hue over everything. Laughter and the sound of wheels on concrete filled the air as you glanced nervously at the smooth expanse of the park. Megumi noticed your hesitation and smirked, handing you a helmet.

“Don’t worry, okay?” he said, voice soft and reassuring. “I’ll be here the whole time. Just hold on if you need to.”

You nodded, cheeks warming at the idea. The two of you stepped onto the rink, and you immediately reached out, grabbing his arm for balance. He tensed slightly at the contact but relaxed when he saw the nervous smile on your face.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice steadier than he felt.

“Ready.” you replied, even though your heart was thumping wildly in your chest.

The first few minutes were shaky. You wobbled and stumbled, and every time you did, Megumi’s arm was there, strong and steady. His hand eventually found its way to yours, fingers intertwining as he guided you along, step by careful step.

The warmth of his touch sent a pleasant jolt up your spine, and you couldn’t help but glance at him, noticing how focused he looked, his hair slightly messy from the helmet. You could feel yourself looking at him for a while and then becoming flustered when he looks back at you.

“You’re doing great.” he said, a rare smile appearing as you both glided a little more smoothly across the rink.

“Thanks to you!” you laughed breathlessly, holding on tightly when you hit a slight dip.

He steadied you immediately, the closeness making your heart stutter. His eyes met yours for a brief moment, dark and intense under the rink’s twinkling lights, and you felt a rush of something that made your stomach flutter.

As the sky darkened into twilight, the skate park began to empty, and an announcement boomed over the loudspeakers. “The park will be closing in fifteen minutes.”

You sighed, a little disappointed that the night was coming to an end. “I guess that’s it for tonight, huh?” you said, a wistful note in your voice.

Megumi nodded and helped you off the rink, his hand lingering on yours a moment longer than necessary. You sat on a nearby bench, taking off your helmets and catching your breath. The sounds around you faded as you felt the cool evening air settle around you both.

“You know…..” Megumi started, his tone unusually hesitant. He looked at you, eyes searching yours as if gathering the courage to speak. “I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, teaching you how to skate. But I’m glad we did it.”

You tilted your head, curiosity sparking in your gaze. “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”

He exhaled, a subtle tremor in his voice as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Because… being this close to you makes it hard to keep things to myself.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and your brows knit together slightly. “Megumi?”

He looked away, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I think—I know that I’m in love with you.”

The confession hung in the air, suspended between you as the world seemed to stand still. He winced, realizing what he’d just said, and moved to apologize, but your soft gasp interrupted him.

“You… you’re in love with me?” you repeated, eyes wide and cheeks turning rosy.

His breath caught, and he nodded slowly. “Yeah. I know it’s sudden, and I don’t want things to change if you don’t feel the same. But I couldn’t keep pretending that I don’t—”

Before he could finish, you leaned in, pressing your forehead to his, your eyes glistening. “I do. I feel the same way, Megumi.” you whispered, a smile breaking through as his eyes widened.

The tension melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief and warmth. He let out a breathy chuckle, the sound rare and real. “You do?” he asked, almost as if needing to hear it again.

You nodded, your fingers finding him and squeezing them tightly. “Yes, I do.”

The skate park around you was closing, but neither of you noticed. For now, the world shrank to just the two of you, illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights and the lingering thrill of confessions finally shared.

Megumi's surprise softened into a smile, rare and full of something warm and unguarded. He still held your hands, fingers intertwined as if anchoring himself to this moment, the world around you blurring into a comforting haze.

The distant sounds of closing gates and murmurs of the last stragglers leaving the park faded away, leaving only the two of you under the soft, golden streetlights. Yet that all faded to the background. All you could do was focus on the warmth in Megumi's beautiful blue-green orbs. All you could think about was how the world felt brighter when he was by your side.

“Say it again, please.” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if part of him still couldn’t believe it.

You laughed, the sound light and full of joy as you leaned in a little closer. “I love you, Megumi. For a while now. I love you then and now.” you said, your eyes searching his face to catch every flicker of emotion. 

The way his lips parted slightly, the way his eyes softened as if he could melt under those words. Everything about it had made your heart flutter even more. You like to think he was just good at that. He swallowed, unable to suppress the smile that stretched across his face. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear that.” he admitted, his voice rough but sincere.

“Probably about as long as I’ve wanted to say it.” you teased, nudging him playfully. He chuckled, the sound deep and unfamiliar even to him, and you couldn’t help but notice how it made him look so much more at ease. “I’m sorry if I took a long while.”

The cool breeze picked up, rustling the leaves in the nearby trees, and you shivered involuntarily. Without thinking, Megumi slipped out of his jacket and draped it around your shoulders, his hands lingering at the collar to pull it snug. The fabric smelled like him; fresh and warm, with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place but that was uniquely Megumi.

“Thank you.” you said, your voice soft. Your eyes met his, and the look you exchanged was filled with so many unsaid words, promises and relief, all bundled together in a way that made your chest ache in the best way.

He glanced down, a subtle blush creeping up his neck. “We should probably get going before they lock us in.” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement.

You nodded, but neither of you made a move to stand just yet. You both sat in that quiet moment for a little longer, soaking in the newness of what had just unfolded. Finally, Megumi stood up and offered you his hand, a small smile playing at his lips as he pulled you to your feet.

“Let’s get you home.” he said, the weight of the evening settling comfortably between you as you walked away from the now-closed skate park, your hands still intertwined.

As you strolled through the quiet streets, the gentle hum of the city wrapping around you, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. There was a contentment in his expression, a relaxed curve to his mouth that spoke of unguarded happiness.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, nudging him lightly.

He glanced at you, eyes soft under the glow of the streetlights. “How I’m going to make sure I never keep something like that from you again.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and you smiled, leaning against him as you walked. “Good.” you said. “Because I plan on telling you every day.”

And as the two of you continued on into the night, the air between you felt different—not just safe, but full of new possibilities, laughter, and love that was finally yours to share.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

EVERYTHING HAPPENS AND CHANGES ALL THE TIME. You and Megumi were the happiest you’d ever been for a long time. Moving into the city had felt like an unspoken promise, a step forward toward a shared future.

A bright beautiful future that had once been only whispers in the quiet of your conversations. Together, you carved out a life in the heart of the bustling city, with its endless hum of activity and its ever-changing face. 

You found an apartment that felt like it belonged to both of you. The floors creaked underfoot, their sound a reminder of the stories they held, the small, quiet moments of shared joy and unspoken understanding.

Big windows let the sunlight pour in during the mornings, catching the dust in beams of gold as you sat side by side with your coffee. The place was imperfect, but in that imperfection, it was beautiful, just like your life together.

Your days were spent in a rhythm that had once been in sync, the sounds of laughter and comfortable silence filling the air. You’d talk about everything and nothing at all. Sometimes, it was about the art you were working on, the colors you’d used, or the gallery you were preparing for. 

Other times, it was about his latest case, his eyes alight with the thrill of a challenge. You would stay up late, your feet tangled together under the blanket as you exchanged stories of the day, dreams for the future, and the occasional silly moment of laughter.

But, as the years passed, everything started to shift, imperceptible at first, like the gradual turning of the pages in a book you thought you knew so well. The city, which had once been your shared adventure, now became the thing that kept you apart. 

The rhythm of your lives grew more erratic. Megumi, with his sharp mind and steady resolve, excelled in the high-stakes world of law. His career took off with rather good ease, and he quickly found himself buried in cases, depositions, meetings, and late-night strategizing. He became the star of the law firm he worked for. Everything was great for him. 

You could see it in the crease of his brow, the way he stayed up into the early hours of the morning to prepare for court, his suit always a little wrinkled, his tie always a little loose, but his focus razor-sharp.

His world was all deadlines, high-profile clients, and courtroom battles that never seemed to stop. He thrived in it; he was good at it, brilliant even—but it took him away from you, slowly but surely.

You, too, threw yourself into your work, determined to build something of your own, to carve out your place in a world that sometimes felt like it was moving too fast for you. Your art became your refuge, the studio your sanctuary.

The city, with its mix of people, cultures, and experiences, was your muse. You found inspiration in the chaos and the beauty that wove through every street, every corner, every passerby. 

But the more you painted, the more you found yourself lost in the solitude of it all. Late nights in galleries preparing for shows or days in the studio felt like your only real connection to the world.

Your mind was constantly racing with ideas, concepts, colors that needed to be captured before they slipped away. Your hands, once so used to holding his, now spent more time wrapped around a paintbrush than around his.

And so, the distance between you grew. The gap that once felt small, just a quiet space between moments, now felt insurmountable. You would come home to an empty apartment, the silence of it pressing in on you. Megumi would still be at the office, still lost in the whirlwind of his cases, his phone buzzing with messages that had to be answered immediately. 

You’d sit at the table, dinner half-eaten, waiting for him to walk through the door, but he rarely came home before midnight. When he did, he’d be tired, exhausted, really and you’d try your best to carry the conversation, but the words never came as easily as they once had. 

He’d ask about your day, but his eyes would already be half-closed, his attention already elsewhere. You’d tell him about the gallery event or the new piece you were working on, but his responses would be short, distracted. Everything else besides his work became second. Everything else started to fade away into the background. Even you.

The moments that once felt so natural disappeared into the fog. You had always, the both of you, understood each other without speaking. But soon enough, everything began to feel strained, stretched thin under the weight of your respective worlds. You’d lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to his breathing beside you, as he focused on reading case files on bed. Every night was like this. 

It felt like he was a million miles away. You couldn’t reach him. You couldn’t feel him. It was like he wasn’t there. And that broke your heart over and over. Because all you wanted was him. Yet you couldn’t even have that. You couldn’t even have a moment. You couldn’t win. Not against fate itself.

There was no more laughter, no more stolen moments of joy in the middle of a busy day. It was as if the world around you was moving faster than you could keep up with, and you and Megumi were just trying to hold on to what little of each other remained.

The city, which had once been your shared adventure, now felt like a vast, indifferent landscape, a place where the two of you had become lost. And no matter how hard you tried to cling to the life you’d built, the distance between you was undeniable. It became this seesaw game. Both of you are waiting for someone to step out of it. 

The silence grew, and the cracks started to form. Megumi, buried in his work, became more distant, his tired eyes unable to meet yours for longer than a few moments.

And you lost in the world of your art, your mind constantly in motion could just feel like it began to feel as though you couldn’t do anything but chase. You were chasing something that would always stay just out of reach. You were chasing a ghost. 

In the stillness of those long, lonely nights, you began to wonder how it all had slipped away so quietly. You had promised each other that nothing would come between you that no matter how much life changed, you’d always have each other. But promises, like time, sometimes slip through your fingers, and before you knew it, you were both holding on to something that wasn’t there anymore.

And it hurt more than anything you’d ever known.

The times when your paths crossed grew fewer, and each time they did, it felt more like a fleeting moment you couldn’t quite hold on to. Mornings that once held the warmth of shared cups of coffee and quiet conversation were now replaced with hurried mornings. 

That quick abrupt hum of the alarm clock pulling you out of bed faster than you could stretch. You’d barely exchange more than a quick kiss goodbye as you rushed out the door, his briefcase already in hand, your mind already occupied with the tasks of the day ahead.

The breakfasts that had once been filled with laughter, with soft smiles and small talk about what lay ahead, had transformed into something mechanical. You’d grab your coffee, he’d grab his briefcase, and you’d both be off, each of you retreating into your own world before the day even began.

Evenings weren’t much better. The quiet, intimate moments you’d shared over dinner, the kind that had made your world feel so right, had all but disappeared. Now, there were nights when you would come home to find him already asleep on the couch, his suit still on, papers scattered around him like a battlefield. 

His face was soft with exhaustion, the tension in his body unmistakable even in sleep. His tie was loosened, his shirt wrinkled, but still, he’d sleep through it all, the weight of the day too heavy for him to shed. And he wouldn’t notice that look in your eyes. That sadness you couldn’t help but carry for this doomed relationship.

You’d watch him for a moment, your heart aching at the sight, but then you’d quietly tiptoe past him, too tired yourself to wake him. The faint sound of his breathing was the only noise in the apartment, and you’d retreat into your own solitude, thinking maybe tomorrow would be different.

Sometimes, you’d come home after a late gallery event, the city lights outside your window blurred in the reflection of the glass. You’d see the faint glow from his office, a soft halo of light against the shadows.

He wouldn’t even notice how your presence creaked the wooden doors open. He wouldn’t even budge at the sound of your keys clanking. Or your familiar footsteps merging with the mahogany ground. He wouldn’t notice a damn thing.

But you would notice everything about him. Fushiguro Megumi would still be sitting there, case files spread out on the desk, his eyes glazed from hours of staring at legal jargon that never seemed to make sense. You’d try to keep the frustration at bay, try to remind yourself that this was just temporary, that everything would settle soon. 

But every time you’d reach out your hand and you would ask.

“Do you want to take a break? Maybe we can grab dinner?” 

Sometimes you wish you didn't ask. 

Because his response would be the same.

“I can’t tonight. Too much work.”

And you’d nod, the words dying in your throat, as you retreated again, feeling the ache in your chest grow with every passing day. The apartment, once a place of warmth and shared moments, now felt cold and empty, no matter how many art pieces you filled it with. It was just you, and him, but you were worlds apart.

And then the fights started.

They were small at first—an offhand comment here, a sigh there, barely even loud enough to be called a fight. But they were enough. The tension built in the small spaces between words, in the way you’d avoid eye contact when you both spoke. You’d complain about him missing dinner again, how you’d waited hours for him to come home, only for him to slip quietly into bed without saying a word.

“I can’t be in two places at once, you know that.” he’d reply, his voice tight, a trace of guilt mixed with irritation in his words. “You knew what I was getting into when I started this job.”

And you knew, deep down, you had known. But that didn’t make it any easier. The dinners you’d missed together, the quiet evenings you spent alone, your frustrations, your loneliness. It all built up until it couldn’t be ignored any longer. You tried to be patient. But you know that patience always has an expiration date. And yours had started to tick, like a bomb just waiting for the right time waiting to explode.

Everything felt useless now. Everything was one blow away from cracking down. The things you used to say to each other, the things that had made you feel so close, now felt hollow and distant. The love that had once been so certain now felt strained, fragile, as though it might crumble at any moment.

One evening, after a particularly grueling week for both of you, you came home from a late gallery event to find Megumi at the dining table, his tie loosened and his hair disheveled, the dark circles under his eyes deeper than usual.

He had papers scattered everywhere, the remnants of his latest case still strewn across the table like debris from a battle he couldn’t quite win. He didn’t even look up when you entered, his focus entirely on the papers in front of him.

“Another late night?” he asked, not even looking up from the papers in front of him.

“Yeah.” you said shortly, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. “Like every other night.”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “We never see each other anymore.”

“Whose fault is that?” you shot back before you could stop yourself. The room felt colder immediately, your own words stinging in the silence that followed.

“You know this is important, both our careers are.” he said, voice strained, but his tone didn’t soothe the growing ache in your chest.

“And what about us, Megumi? When did we stop being important?”

He looked up at you, eyes tired but holding that glimmer of hurt. “We are. We’re just… trying to keep up.”

“It doesn’t feel like we’re keeping up.” you whispered, eyes starting to sting with tears. “It feels like we’re falling apart.”

The silence that settled was heavy, pressing down on both of you. He stood up, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident. “What do you want me to do? Stop working? This is what I have to do. You know that.”

“And this is what I have to do.” you said, gesturing to your art supplies strewn around the room. “But we’re not making it work, Megumi. We’re barely making it through the day without fighting.”

He looked at you then, truly looked at you, and for a moment, his expression softened, a flicker of the old Megumi shining through. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by the weight of reality.

There was panic in the way he looked at you. You felt a bile form at your throat. You knew what it looked like. He was realizing it. He saw that sadness in your eyes. The sadness that he had hated so much on you, he had caused it on you. 

“I don’t know how to fix this. I….” he said, his voice low and raw. “Babe, I’m so sorry—”

You took a shaky breath, the words you’d been avoiding suddenly tumbling out. “Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t try to fix it anymore. I’m tired of all this, Megumi. I am….I am genuinely exhausted from trying to make it work.”

“Babe, listen we can talk this out and we can make it work. I know we can. We—”

“Maybe we should break up.”

The room went still, the echo of your words ringing louder than anything else. His blue–gren eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and hurt coloring his features. Those words were the hardest you could ever say.

But perhaps it was the right words to say. Because he looked at you for the first time ever and finally, he saw you. He finally sees you, after such a long nightmare. 

“You don’t mean that. You—” he said, almost pleadingly, stepping closer.

“I do.” you said, voice breaking. “I can’t take this anymore, Megumi. We’re just making each other miserable, and it’s not fair to either of us.”

His shoulders sagged, and for the first time in a long while, he looked defeated. He reached out, almost as if he wanted to pull you back into a time when things were easier, when love was all you needed to bridge any gap.

But he stopped himself, letting his hand fall to his side. A sad small smile dances on your lips, biting them soon after. You could feel the tears fall from your weary eyes.

You were tired of fighting for something he couldn’t. You were tired of doing it by yourself. And he knew that. He knew that all too well. There were no other ways for him to stop you from leaving him, from leaving all this pain behind. Pain he had caused you over and over again. Pain that would scar you for as long as you lived.

“I don’t want to lose you.” he said softly, eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

You looked away, fighting the sob that threatened to break free. “I don’t want to lose you either. But we’re already losing each other.”

The words were so raw, so full of meaning, that it made your heart ache. But you could feel the wall between you two now, the one that you’d both been building without realizing it. You both don’t know your place in this relationship. You have outgrown it and it wasn’t even both your faults. It just….is life.

“I don’t want to lose you either, you know that.” you said, your voice shaking. “But I don’t know how to fix this, Megumi. I don’t know if I can keep waiting for you to come home when you’re already gone.”

The silence that fell over the two of you was deafening. The room felt colder, the space between you growing with every word that went unsaid. You stared at each other, both lost in the same silence, both unsure of where to go from here. The city outside continued to hum, oblivious to the cracks that were starting to form in the life you’d once built so carefully together.

The silence this time, it felt final. And as you both stood there, the city’s lights flickering through the window, you realized that sometimes love isn’t enough to fight against the things that pull you apart.

There were city lights, lights brighter than anything else. It was like the universe was here, and the stars beamed towards you both, like lovers. And yet, you were everything but in that moment. You were two people who finally saw the seesaw needs to fall down.

“I’ll pack my things.” You say to him, smiling ever sadder than before. “I’ll stay with a friend tonight. And…I’ll come back for my things.”

He doesn’t say another word. But you can tell. He was close to crying. Yet he gives you one singular nod as you slowly walk towards him and place your hand on his cheek. As though it was the last time you would ever touch him.

He looks up from his gaze on the ground, trying to memorize this image of you. You can tell there was desperation. What if he doesn’t see you again? What does he do?

“I loved you so much.” You said, the past tense making him flinch slightly. It was the hardest word to even pronounce. It  felt harder to say five words than the usual three. “I still do. But…I have to go. For our sake.”

“Don’t….” He whispers weakly. “Don’t tell me this, not after we just….”

“Goodbye, Megumi.” You tell him, with finality. A smile blunt on your face, trying to make this memory redeemable. “I hope you live a long and happy life.”

When you walked out, the city lights looked at you and blinked.

And yet, Fushiguro Megumi felt like he didn’t know what to do.

But he doesn’t stop you as you walk away, taking warmth away.

He lets you go, because loving you meant living without you too.

That was the risk of loving someone, that was the risk of living in love.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

A LOT CAN HAPPEN WHEN YOU BLINK. And that’s what happened. He didn’t expect it to happen, change will always have permanence. As much as time. Both are uncontrollable forces of nature. And he hated it.

It’s been five years now since you and Megumi had last stood on solid ground together, since the life you built had slowly crumbled under the weight of work, time, and distance. 

The memory of your arguments, your silences, still lingered in the back of his mind like a distant ache, a reminder of what once was and what was no longer. But time had done little to heal that wound.

In fact, Fushiguro Megumi had become even more entrenched in his work, burying himself in his career as a lawyer, trying to forget that, in the end, he had lost the one person who meant the most to him.

Now, sitting in a sterile hospital room, the smell of antiseptic burning his nose, he felt like he was living in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. His eyes were locked onto the doctor in front of him, but his mind was elsewhere, still processing what had just been said. The words hung in the air, thick with finality.

“Mr. Fushiguro, the test results confirm that you’ve inherited a hereditary condition from your father. It’s genetic and unfortunately, there's no cure.”

The doctor’s voice was calm, clinical, as though she were explaining a minor inconvenience, as though it was him talking to the jury at court. But Fushiguro Megumi heard nothing but the echo of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. 

He could barely process the words, the shock still settling in his chest. He hadn’t expected this. He’d always heard whispers about his father, that old man. Megumi didn’t care when he left. He still had Tsumiki. And then he had Gojo and then….. 

Megumi stops himself. He frowns deeper. He was not having the best of luck in lif. He likes to think he never has. Now, he is haunted and suffers more about this man who left them. He has to come back in the form of this stupid illness.

This stupid illness that would now be killing him slowly and fully. He wants to laugh out loud. Because, this was something else entirely. How cruel fate can be. How much of a comedy it is, how much of a stupid thing it is.

He leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. The room seemed to tilt around him, the walls closing in, suffocating him. A laugh threatened to slip from his lips, but it did.

Everything about it wasn’t one of humor. It was jagged and bitter, a laugh born of frustration, anger, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal that had simmered in his chest for years.

His blue–green gaze didn’t leave the doctor, but his eyes darkened towards the doctor. The doctor seemed to be unfazed by his reaction. Megumi felt like he was the same as the doctor when he was at court sometimes. Those cases don’t faze him. 

He had seen it all. And everyone had gotten mad at him at times too. And yet there was only disbelief now. He was on the other side of the aisle now. There was only surprise and then anguish and then bitterness. All of that didn’t taste good in his mouth.

“So, let me get this straight, doctor.” he began, his voice tight, almost controlled, but with an edge of fury beneath it. “My father, the man who abandoned me and Tsumiki after Mom died, is now showing up in my life, and now I’m supposed to care that I’ve inherited something from him? Something that’s going to kill me?”

The doctor faltered for a second, clearly caught off guard by the venom in his voice, but she remained professional. “It’s not quite like that, Mr. Fushiguro. Your father may not have been around, but—”

“No.” he cut her off, his fist clenching in his lap. “Don’t give me that. Don’t try to justify him. You think I care about a condition that’s been passed down through the blood of someone who doesn’t even care enough to be there when I need him?” 

“Mr. Fushiguro, please—”

His laugh returned, sharp and hollow, a bitter sound that didn’t belong in a place like this. “I never even wanted to know him. I was better off without him. And now that old man comes back. Oh god, what a fucking mess! What a comedy!”

His mind raced, the thoughts swirling in a chaotic dance of anger and disbelief. His father had left him and Tsumiki in the wake of their mother’s death, promising them nothing but silence. And he was bears with it. He always did. He always knew how to get on with life. That’s how he came to be where he is now. 

But he can’t help it. How could he? All that misery he had buried as a child comes back once more. He had thought it would never come back to the earth again. Everything about it was just as good as dead to him.

And yet, fate laughs at him. He laughs at how easy it is to push Megumi’s buttons. And he knew Megumi would react. Fate loved games and he would continue on and on, until he was satisfied. 

“You said it’s genetic, right?” he asked suddenly, his voice a little more brittle, the edge of his anger still cutting through the words. “How long do I have?”

The doctor looked at him with sympathy, but Megumi didn’t want sympathy. He didn’t want the pity in her eyes. He didn’t want any of this.

“It depends on the progression of the disease.” she answered carefully, giving him the facts. “It could take years. Maybe even months. We do not know. But knowing some cases I’ve seen, It could be faster. We can try treatments, but we can’t reverse the damage already done.”

Megumi closed his blue–green eyes for a moment, his chest tightening. The realization hit him with full force: his life, the one he had built, the work, the efforts to stay busy, to keep going. None of it had prepared him for this. 

None of it had prepared him for the idea that he might not have much time left. How is he going to tell Tsumiki or Gojo? How could he prepare them for this? And to make matters worse, it was a legacy that had come from the very man who had never been there for him in the first place.

His laugh died in his throat, leaving a hollow emptiness in its wake.

“Tell me this is some kind of mistake.” he muttered under his breath, as though saying the words would somehow make them untrue.

The doctor’s eyes softened, but she shook her head, handing him a folder with the test results. “I’m afraid it’s not.”

The weight of it all pressed down on him, his mind spinning. He stood abruptly, shoving the folder into his bag without a second glance, his hands trembling slightly. He couldn’t stay here. He needed to leave. He needed to get out of this sterile room before it suffocated him any further.

As he walked out of the hospital, the cool air of the evening hit him, but it did little to calm the storm brewing inside him. He couldn’t help but wonder about it. What was the point of this? What was the point of surviving a life without a father only to be cursed with his legacy, a legacy that had already been stained with abandonment? What did it all mean?

He didn’t have the answers. But one thing was clear. He would never be able to look at his father the same way again. And now, he’d have to face the consequences of that. Whether he liked it or not. One way or another, it was just how it works. Fushiguro Megumi has to see that life goes on. It always has. Even in the face of death.

Yet for a moment, even if he has resigned himself to fate, he stops. 

He stops for a moment and thinks to himself and that warmth returns.

He wishes that  for what remains of life — he wished you were there with him.

Fushiguro Megumi wishes that he could see your smile and live in it again.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

HE FOUND HIMSELF DISASSOCIATING FOR A COUPLE OF MINUTES. But after news like that, who wouldn’t find themselves despondent. Megumi Fushiguro wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing in the hospital lobby. He’d left the doctor’s office a while ago, but his feet felt frozen to the ground, the weight of everything pressing down on him. 

His thoughts felt scrambled, and all he wanted was to get out of there, away from the sterile white walls, away from the suffocating reality of the diagnosis. The last thing he expected was to run into someone, you—after all this time.

But there you were, standing at the hospital’s entrance, your hair a little longer, your eyes just as bright, the warmth of your smile still able to stop his heart dead in its tracks. He hadn’t expected it. Not in such a place. And yet here you were. He hadn’t expected to see you here, of all places. After all, you took care of yourself well. But there you were, as beautiful and alive as ever.

At first, Megumi wasn’t sure what to do. Should he approach you? Should he pretend everything was fine? There was so much that had passed between you, so many years, so much silence.

And he couldn’t help but wonder if it was too late for him to fix things. But before he could make any decision, you were already walking toward him, your gaze locking onto his like it always had when you were younger.

“Megumi.” you said softly, almost hesitantly, as though you weren’t sure how to say his name anymore.

You were still the same, and yet, you weren’t. Your voice was familiar, but the years between you had made things feel… off, awkward in a way that he hadn’t expected.

“Hey.” he said, his voice almost gruff, unsure of how to speak to you after so long.

He took a step back, unsure whether to smile, to say something casual. It was almost like he didn’t know who he was around you anymore. The man who used to be able to talk to you about anything had disappeared somewhere along the way.

You smiled, though, and for a brief moment, Megumi felt like he could breathe again. “What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you're here for a checkup too. You look fine to me.” you teased, and there was that playful spark in your eyes that he had missed.

Megumi shifted, looking around, as though searching for an answer that didn’t exist. The truth was, he didn’t want to tell you why he was here. Not yet. Not when he had no idea how to explain the mess his life had become.

“I’m just here… taking care of some stuff.” he muttered, the lie slipping out before he could stop it. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension build again. “You know, business stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow, a knowing look crossing your face, but instead of pressing him further, you just shrugged. “Well, I’m not here for anything too serious. Just visiting a friend.”

"Oh, I see."

Your gaze softened as you spoke, the smile on your face softening the more you looked at him. "I didn’t expect to see you here. Not after all this time."

Megumi nodded, biting his lip. No kidding, he thought to himself. The years had passed, but he hadn’t expected it to feel like this. He hadn’t expected to feel so... unsure. He wasn’t used to this distance between you two. Not like this.

“Well....” you said, after a pause. You rubbed the back of your neck. “Do you want to grab dinner or something? I don’t know about you, but I could really use some decent food after dealing with all this hospital nonsense.”

At first, Megumi hesitated, unsure if he should take the invitation. But something about the ease in your voice, the casual familiarity of it, made him relent. “Sure. I guess I could go for something... edible.” he said, trying to joke, but it came out more stiff than he wanted.

You laughed, the sound of it bringing back memories of the good old days when life was simpler and he didn’t have to carry the weight of unspoken words between you. You waved him off, but there was something in your eyes, something gentle and patient, like you weren’t rushing him to explain himself.

The two of you walked out of the hospital together, falling into step like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was awkward at first, the silence between you hanging heavy, but as you got settled at the restaurant, everything started to fall back into place.

You ordered something light, and Megumi, on autopilot, ordered something simple—a dish he could eat quickly. The waiter left, and for a moment, the two of you sat in silence, not quite knowing how to bridge the gap that had been there for years.

“So…..” you began, after a while, trying not to be awkward. “Why were you at the hospital? Don’t tell me you have a broken bone or something.”

Megumi’s eyes flickered over to you, and he was about to brush it off, to avoid answering; like he always did when it came to anything about his past, about his father.  He hoped you weren’t noticing it. He hoped that you weren’t able to see through him again.

But before he could think of a way out, he realized something: you weren’t just anyone. You were you—the person who knew him better than anyone. The person he had lost, the person who had been there for him when everything else fell apart. You had and always will know more about him than anyone else. Even if he doesn’t say anything.

He exhaled slowly, and then, without thinking, he shrugged and said, “I guess you could say I’m getting some bad news.”

You furrowed your brow in concern, and before you could ask, he let out a dry laugh, something hollow that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s not contagious.”

You shook your head, already knowing where this was headed. “Megumi, your jokes are still as bad as they were when we were kids.” You leaned back in your seat with a fond smile, your eyes soft. “You’re impossible.”

He chuckled under his breath, feeling some of the weight lift off his chest. The familiar rhythm of teasing, of falling back into old patterns, felt surprisingly good. His heart, which had felt heavy and weighed down for so long, was starting to feel lighter with each passing moment.

“You should’ve known,” Megumi muttered, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m the best at bad jokes.”

You laughed again, the sound like music to his ears. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Fushiguro.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to relax a little. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to fix what had been broken. Maybe, just maybe, he could find his way back to the person who used to be everything to him.

But for now, he would take the little moments like this—the laughter, the shared memories, and the warmth of simply being in your presence again. Everything felt like the sun had shone on earth again. Everything felt right like this.

And, for once, he wasn’t afraid of what came next.

Fushiguro Megumi sat back in his chair, watching you as you laughed, as you teased him, and it felt like the whole world faded away for a few moments. For the first time in months, his chest didn’t feel so tight, his mind didn’t feel so heavy.

The hospital, the test results, the news about his father; they all felt like distant memories, like something that could be put on the shelf and forgotten for a while. Because in this moment, right now, the only thing that mattered was you.

He liked this. He liked the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled, the way you still knew how to make him laugh even when everything inside him ached. There was a calmness, a sense of peace, in being around you that he hadn’t felt in years. 

The world around him had become chaotic, unpredictable, but here at this small, unassuming restaurant, sharing a quiet dinner with you. Everything about it, it made him feel… warm inside. It felt like coming home, after a long time away from it.

As the conversation flowed easily between you two, Megumi found himself watching the way you moved, the way you spoke, the way you were still you. It was like nothing had changed, like time hadn’t passed at all. Except it had. 

Five years had come and gone, and he had spent most of them buried in work, in his own personal mess of anger and hurt, while you had lived your own life. But now, seeing you here, smiling at him like this, it was like he had been given something precious he hadn’t realized he’d lost: you.

And then it hit him. That sharp pang of realization.

He was dying.

In a few months, his life, everything he had worked for, everything he had wanted, would be over. And the one thing he had always wanted, the one thing that had never wavered was sitting right across from him, smiling at him like he was everything.

You, the person he had spent his whole life running from, running toward, the person who had always been there.

And now, here you were again.

His heart skipped a beat as he processed it all.  It was all coming at him fast, like a car speeding fast towards him. He doesn’t know what to do, how to do it. Everything overwhelmed him. But then again, he thinks he’s always felt like this when it came to you. He can’t deny that whatsoever. 

Everything made him feel like a boy again. All these feelings he can’t describe makes him so overwhelmed with what life means. How much he had missed you, how much he still needed you in his life, they all started to make him wonder about it all. 

The joke, the casual teasing, the familiar warmth between you two—it was what he wanted. It was what he had always wanted. He had never allowed himself to admit it fully, not back then, not when you were both young and carefree. But now, with the weight of his diagnosis hanging over him like a dark cloud, he couldn’t deny it any longer.

It wasn’t just that he wanted to be around you. No, it was more than that. He needed to be around you, to feel your presence, your warmth, your love. The idea that he might never get to hold you close again after all this time made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t put into words.

You caught his gaze, your smile faltering just for a moment. “Hey, are you okay?” you asked, the concern in your voice immediate and genuine. “You’ve been quiet all of a sudden.”

Megumi blinked, realizing he had zoned out. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry. Just… thinking.”

You didn’t look convinced, but you didn’t press. Instead, you took a sip of your drink, then set it down, eyes watching him carefully. “I get that a lot lately,” you said, half-joking, half-serious. “I tend to get lost in my head too.”

He chuckled softly, trying to push away the heaviness that was creeping back into his thoughts. But it was hard. It was hard when every little thing in this moment reminded him of what he was going to lose.

He didn’t know how much time he had left. And that thought scared him more than anything. But what scared him even more was the idea of never telling you how he truly felt, never having the chance to fully be with you.

“So, what about you?” Megumi asked, his voice quieter than before. “How’s life been? Really, how are you?”

You blinked at him, clearly taken aback by the change in tone. “You know, same as usual. Gallery events, late nights at the studio… You know, the usual chaos,” you said with a small smile. But then, you tilted your head. “And you? You’ve been working so much, Megumi. You’ve been pushing yourself.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I have,” he admitted. “It’s just… it’s easier, you know? To bury myself in work rather than deal with what’s going on in my head.”

There it was. The truth, just slipping out. His chest tightened again, the weight of everything catching up to him. You watched him with soft eyes, but you didn’t say anything. You just waited, patiently, for him to continue.

“I think…” He hesitated, unsure of how to say it, unsure if he even had the right to say it now. But his heart was screaming at him to be honest, to be real with you. “I think I’ve been afraid for a long time. Afraid of how I feel about you. I never said it before… but I think I’ve always loved you, even when I couldn’t show it.”

Your eyes softened, your lips parted in surprise, but no words came out. Megumi could feel his heart pounding in his chest as the silence stretched on.

“I’ve always loved you, you know?” he repeated, the words stronger this time. “And… I know it’s late. I know it’s probably too late, but I want you to know. I want you to know that I needed you. That I want to spend whatever time I have left with you. Whatever time I can get.”

His voice faltered as the confession hung in the air, and the weight of it felt almost unbearable. But then, slowly, you reached across the table, your hand gently landing on his.

“I never stopped loving you either, Megumi. I hope you know that.” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us.”

The words hit him like a wave, and for a brief moment, he felt like he could breathe again. Like everything wasn’t falling apart. Maybe, just maybe, the time that was slipping away didn’t matter as long as he could be with you in these final months, these final moments. He looked at you, the warmth of your hand in his, and a fragile smile tugged at his lips.

“Then let’s make the most of it.” he whispered. “Even if we start out again and be friends first. I’d love to make the most of it.”

You smiled at him warmly in response. “I’d like that too.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn’t afraid anymore. He didn’t have all the answers. He didn’t have the time he wanted. But in that moment, as you sat across from him, the love of his life, he felt at peace.

And perhaps, maybe, just maybe – that was enough.

Maybe, this was all he needed in life.

His life was going to be defined by loving you.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

BEING SENTIMENTAL, IT WASN’T WHAT HE WAS GOOD AT. He knew too well what this will be in the end. He knew that it was going to hurt you both, that it was going to hurt him most. It wasn’t the best idea, you knew that.

Letting Fushiguro Megumi back into your life after everything that had happened, after all the years apart—it wasn’t exactly the most rational choice. You’d spent so long building your own life, carving out your space in the world, and now, just as you’d begun to find your rhythm again, life threw you a curveball you never saw coming.

The diagnosis.

Dementia. A rare form. And to make matters worse, it was hitting you far too early before you’d even reached thirty-five. The doctors had explained it all in somber tones, but the truth was, none of it really sunk in at first.

It was a shock, a blow you weren’t sure how to handle. The thought that, in just a few years, you might forget everything, the art you created, the people you loved, the moments that had shaped your life, was downright terrifying.

And yet, here you were, staring at your phone screen with Megumi’s name blinking back at you. He’d reached out. You hadn’t heard from him in so long. The last time you saw him, things were… complicated. So many years spent apart, so many unspoken words, and yet, when you saw his name, your heart skipped a beat.

You thought it might have been fate. Or maybe just a desperate wish. The idea that you had a shot at all was one in a million. In this small window of time, before it all slipped away— to make some memories. To live whatever life you could, before the inevitable began to take hold. You wondered how that could be.

So you called him back. And when he answered, the voice on the other end was familiar and steady, just like you remembered.

“You really want to see me?” he asked, the surprise evident in his voice. “It’s been a while.”

You smiled softly, your fingers curling around the phone. “I do. I want to see you, Megumi. I need to. I—” You paused, unsure how to explain it. How could you? “I just want to make some memories.”

There was a long silence before he spoke again, and when he did, his tone was gentler. “Okay. Let’s make some memories then. How about we go to the aquarium? I know it’s random, but… I thought it might be fun.”

You felt a small laugh escape your lips at the thought of it. Megumi…Your Megumi. He was always so serious, always so reserved, ever so practical — but somehow, a trip to the aquarium seemed like just the thing you needed.

He was keeping you afloat, keeping you alive, wanting to do things. Wanting to make life interesting, even with that orderly fashion of his. It makes you warm inside. It always has. It always will.

“That sounds perfect.” you said, the words coming out easily, almost relieved.

And so, there you were, standing in front of the entrance to the aquarium, waiting for him. Your heart was a little heavier than before, the weight of the diagnosis still there in the back of your mind. But in this moment, with Megumi on his way, you felt something else: a little spark of hope. A little spark of life.

You caught sight of him as he rounded the corner, looking just as you remembered, though maybe a little older, a little worn around the edges. His eyes were still the same, dark and intense, but there was something softer about him now, something that made your heart ache.

“Hey,” he said, a faint smile on his lips. “Long time no see.”

You smiled back, the weight of the years between you almost forgotten. "Yeah. It’s been too long."

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment, his gaze lingering just a little too long, as though he could tell something was different. You didn’t have to say it out loud. He could read you like a book. He always has. You don’t think he’ll stop now. You hope he wouldn’t. You smiled at him.

“I’m glad you called.” he said softly, as if unsure of how to proceed, but that familiar warmth in his voice was still there. It had never really gone away, had it?

"Me too." you replied, and for the first time in a long while, you meant it. "I needed this."

Megumi nodded, and the two of you walked into the aquarium together, the world around you a blur of soft lights and flowing water. The sound of distant laughter and the rhythmic swoosh of fish in tanks filled the air, but all you could hear was his voice, the way it brought comfort, the way it made you feel like maybe you weren’t alone in this after all.

You pointed out the exhibits as you wandered through the aquarium, asking him what he thought of the colorful fish or the playful otters, though truthfully, your mind wasn’t always on the sea creatures. You couldn’t help but glance at him, at the way he reacted to everything, his quiet smile, his dry humor. It felt so familiar. So right.

“Remember when we came here when we were younger?” you asked, your voice soft. “We didn’t know anything about what we were doing, just wandered around aimlessly.”

Megumi chuckled, though it sounded bittersweet. “I think I spent most of the time trying to keep you from getting too close to the sharks.”

You laughed, the sound light and free, just like it used to be when you were younger. "You always were protective."

He didn’t respond to that, but the way he looked at you said it all. You both knew. You both remembered the connection you had once shared. And now, as you stood together, surrounded by glass tanks and exotic sea life, it felt like maybe, just maybe, things weren’t as broken as they seemed.

Megumi turned to you after a while, his blue – green eyes searching yours, as though considering whether to say something, something important. Sometimes Megumi gets like this.

He tries to do well when figuring out what to say, how to say them. To avoid misunderstanding. To be clear. And yet in that moment, he seemed like he already had those words. But he doesn’t want to bring it up. At least not yet.

“Do you… do you remember what you used to tell me?” he asked, his voice hesitant. “When we were kids, you said you wanted to live life fully. You didn’t want to waste a single second.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. It took a moment for you to recall those words, but when you did, a small laugh escaped your lips. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“You still want that, right?” Megumi’s gaze was steady, unwavering.

You paused, your heart skipping a beat. There was no need to speak the truth aloud—it was clear. Even with everything you had to face, you still wanted to live, even if it was just a little longer, even if it meant creating new memories, even if it was messy and imperfect.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I do.”

And with that simple admission, Megumi smiled, a smile that reached his eyes, a little brighter than before. He didn’t ask you what was coming next, or how much time you had left, or any of the things you had to worry about in the back of your mind. He just stood there, by your side, ready to make the most of the time you had left.

And in that moment, you realized something else too—maybe it wasn’t the best idea to let him back in, but it felt like fate. Fate had given you a chance, and you weren’t going to waste it.

Not now. Not ever again.

As you and Megumi wandered through the aquarium, the world outside seemed to fade away. There was something peaceful about the soft glow of the tanks, the gentle movement of the sea creatures, and the quiet way you and Megumi existed in each other’s space. The sounds of the outside world, the murmur of people and the occasional squeal of children, felt far away, like they were part of a distant dream.

Megumi leaned closer to one of the tanks, his eyes following the delicate movements of a seahorse. You caught yourself watching him more than you watched the creatures inside the glass, his expression thoughtful, like he was lost in the quiet beauty of it all. 

His features softened in a way that made your heart flutter. It wasn’t just his looks, though—it was the way he was. The way he had always been there for you, even when life pulls you in different directions. Everything about him makes you orbit around him, like he was your earth and you were his moon. He kept you balanced. And you like it. You always have.

“Hey, Megumi.” you said, nudging him lightly. “You’ve gone quiet. Do you still hate fish?”

He looked over at you, raising an eyebrow in that familiar, teasing way. “Not the fish, just... I can’t believe you’ve dragged me here, of all places.” But his words held no real malice. There was warmth there, a soft playfulness that made you smile.

“Admit it already.” you teased him. “You like it. You just don’t want to admit it.”

Megumi snorted, and you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. "Maybe I do. But don’t go getting any ideas. I’m not a seafood enthusiast yet."

You grinned, poking him in the ribs. “I’ll take what I can get.”

You both wandered deeper into the exhibit, laughing at the odd little creatures, pointing out your favorites, and making light-hearted jokes. At one point, you found yourselves standing before a tank of jellyfish, their long, flowing tentacles creating a mesmerizing dance in the water. You both watched in silence, the gentle sway of the jellyfish almost hypnotic.

“This is kind of like us, isn’t it?” you asked, turning to Megumi, your voice quieter now. “Just... floating along, not really knowing where we’re going, but just kind of going with it?”

Megumi looked over at you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Yeah. Maybe it is.” he murmured, his voice soft and a little more serious than usual. “But, you know, I don’t mind floating along with you.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, and without thinking, you reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. His hand wrapped around yours almost instinctively, and in that moment, it felt so right. So simple. So perfect.

"You're really good at this." you whispered, giving his hand another squeeze. "At making things feel easy."

Megumi’s fingers tightened around yours, and he turned his head slightly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “I think you’ve always made it easy, you know?” he said quietly.

You both stood there for a while, hand in hand, watching the jellyfish move. Time seemed to slow down as you both took in the moment, each of you content in the other’s presence. The world around you felt like it had paused, just for a little while, just for the two of you to exist together.

As the day began to wind down and the aquarium started to empty out, Megumi pulled you closer, his arm lightly draped around your shoulder, a natural, easy gesture.

You leaned into him, grateful for his warmth, his presence, the way he made you feel like everything would be okay. You knew it was, even when you weren’t sure about anything. As long as you have Fushiguro Megumi, life will turn out alright. It always has. It always will.

“Thanks for today, Megumi.” you said softly, your voice full of meaning. "I needed this."

Megumi glanced down at you, a small smile on his lips. “I’m glad. I needed it too.”

As you made your way to the exit, you felt lighter. The weight of your diagnosis, the fear of what was to come, was still there in the back of your mind—but in this moment, with Megumi by your side, everything else seemed distant. The future, no matter how uncertain, didn’t feel so scary anymore.

You both stepped out into the evening air, the cool breeze brushing past your faces. The city lights were just beginning to flicker on in the distance, and the streets felt full of life.

You glanced over at Megumi, his expression soft, content. The night was still young, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were living in the moment, not worrying about what was to come.

“You know……” you said, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe we should do this again sometime.”

Megumi raised an eyebrow. “What, go to an aquarium?”

You grinned, nudging him playfully. “Why not? You never know, next time we might get to see the dolphins.”

He rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was unmistakable. “You and your love for sea animals,” he teased.

“I’m serious!” you said with a laugh. “But next time, maybe you’ll actually like it more.”

“Maybe,” he said with a chuckle. "Just maybe."

As you walked side by side, the cool evening air wrapping around you, your thoughts wandered again to the future, the future that was becoming a little more uncertain with each passing day. But then you looked at Megumi again, at the soft smile on his face, and for a moment, it didn’t matter. For now, everything was perfect.

And in that perfect moment, you realized: this—him—was what you wanted. Not just tonight, not just this moment, but forever. Or at least, as long as you could have it. You didn’t know how much time you had left, but in this instant, you were going to savor every second of it.

You glanced up at Megumi, squeezing his hand gently as you whispered, “I want this to last forever.”

Megumi squeezed your hand back, his voice steady and warm. “I do too.”

But you knew, you knew too well, as he did.

Nothing on this earth was bound to last forever.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

HE DIDN’T EXPECT HOW THIS WAS GOING TO END. But then again, you too didn’t expect it. Everything was unpredictable. But he expected this to happen. Even if he didn’t want it to. That was just his fate. The pain had been creeping up on him more and more, gnawing at his insides like a constant reminder that his time was running out. 

Every movement, every step, felt like a battle. His body wasn’t his own anymore, and no matter how much he tried to push through it, the heaviness of his condition weighed on him more than he cared to admit. Everything was miserable, and he hated it. He hated how this was happening.

But there was something, someone, that made it all seem bearable. You. The thought of you kept him going, even when his body felt like it was betraying him. At the time when everything was starting to know its place, to fit perfectly. Right time, right place, right person. And yet, this had come to pass. He was sick. Beyond fixing. 

Yet Megumi was certain that he was going to fight it. For as long as he can still do it. For as long as he had the strength to. He still wanted more time with you. More chances to make up for those five years. But he knew that it was getting harder. He didn’t want you to see how bad it was getting. 

Sometimes he can’t even move himself. Sometimes he felt like he was going to throw up everything he ate. Sometimes he feels like he was going to pass out. But he doesn’t want to give up just yet.

He can’t. It wasn’t time, not just yet. He still needs to live. No matter how painful it all gets. He wants to live. He wasn’t giving up. Not when he still wanted to be there for you. Not when he still wanted to make you smile.

And he wanted to prove that. He always wants to prove that. That he was strong enough. That he can still stay here. That he can still take care of you. Tonight was one of those nights. It was already late when he got your call. But he didn’t care about the time. He had to go there for you. 

He rushed out with his meager winter coat and rushed over there. The sound of your voice was filled with frustration and a little bit of panic, and that was enough to get him moving immediately. It kept ringing in his head, the tone of your voice. He doesn’t think he had ever heard that voice from you before. 

All the way there, he thought more about your frustration and your panic more than his own pain. He didn’t even think about how exhausted he was or how much his body ached. You were what mattered to him at this moment. Nothing else. You mattered more to him. He was always going to put your first, especially now. 

When he arrived at your apartment, he found you standing by the door, frowning and rifling through your bag. Your face lit up with a mix of relief and embarrassment when you saw him. He took a moment to breathe before greeting you. 

“Megumi, I’m so sorry.” you said, wiping a hand over your face. “I can’t find my keys. I’ve looked everywhere. I—I think I’ve lost them.”

The distress in your voice was enough to make his heart tighten. He immediately stepped toward you, trying to hide the wince that flickered across his face as he reached for the door handle. 

“It’s okay, hm?” he said softly, his voice steady, even if the pain inside was threatening to make it crack. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”

He tried to ignore the way his legs ached as he crouched down to check the bottom of the doormat, his hand shaking slightly as he pushed it aside, looking for any sign of the missing keys. You stood beside him, still fretting, your hands wringing together.

“I’m sorry, Megumi. I don’t want to be a burden to you.” you murmured, your voice trembling.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stood up again. “You’re not a burden. You never have been.” He reached out, gently wiping the tears that had started to fall down your cheek. "I’m happy to help."

I’m happy to be needed. He thinks to himself, looking at you. I’m happy to be wanted by you.

Your breath hitched, your heart racing from the warmth of his touch. You didn’t understand how he could be so calm and collected when you felt like you were falling apart. But then again, it was just like him to make sure you were okay, even if it meant putting aside his own pain.

“I’m so sorry, again.” you said again, this time more softly. “I shouldn’t have let this get to me.”

Megumi just shook his head. “Hey, it’s okay. We all have our moments. It’s normal to get frustrated. I’ll help you find them, I promise.”

He glanced around for a moment, and then his gaze softened as he met your eyes. For a brief second, the weight of his own pain seemed to vanish, replaced by the quiet, soothing comfort of being close to you. The way you looked at him like he was the one thing that made sense in the chaos made everything feel a little easier.

“Let’s check inside your bag again.” he suggested gently. He took the bag from you, unzipping it with a practiced hand. As he rummaged through it, you watched him carefully, your anxiety easing just a little from the reassurance in his tone.

And then, as if by magic, he pulled out the keys from the deepest pocket of your bag. He held them up with a small, triumphant smile.

“Found them, dummy.” he said, and the relief in his voice made your heart swell.

You let out a shaky laugh, tears still lingering in your eyes, but a smile now tugging at your lips. “I’m so hopeless sometimes.”

Megumi’s smile widened, his eyes softening. “Don’t say that. You’re not hopeless. You just had a moment.”

His hand brushed against yours as he handed you the keys, and for a second, it felt like everything was perfect. Just you, him, the simple act of being together in the quiet, unspoken moments.

You met his gaze, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Thank you, Megumi. For everything.”

His bright blue–green orbs could only soften even more, and for the briefest moment, you could see the quiet ache in them, but it wasn’t pain. No, it was something else, something deeper. Something more beautiful, something more true. Everything about him felt so genuine. More than ever before.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m just happy I’m here with you.”

And for that moment, in that small, shared space, it felt like nothing else mattered. The world outside could have been crumbling, but in his presence, you felt a quiet sense of peace you hadn’t known in a long time.

Megumi gave you one last, reassuring smile, wiping away the last of your tears, and then offered his arm to you as he moved to open the door for you. You stepped inside, the cool air of the apartment a small comfort after the small storm of emotions. Megumi was right. Everything would be fine. 

At least, for now, it was. You could forget about the worries of tomorrow and just be in the moment. As he followed you inside, a part of you couldn’t help but think how much longer you wanted this moment by your side. How you wished you could hold onto these moments forever.

The evening had grown colder, but the light snowfall made everything feel magical, like a scene out of a dream. You and Megumi had just finished your little excursion to find the perfect hotpot place, and as you sat at a cozy table by the window, the snowflakes drifted lazily outside. 

The warmth of the restaurant was a nice contrast to the chilly air, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. Everything about tonight was what would make winter feel the want to enjoy being alive, being warm in the cold breeze of its existence.

You pulled your phone from your bag, feeling the impulse to capture the moment. You glanced up at Megumi, who was poking at his bowl, looking surprisingly content for someone who usually seemed to prefer avoiding anything too flashy. 

His serious demeanor had softened, and his usual guarded expression was replaced with a rare sense of comfort. With a smile, you snapped a quick picture of him. Megumi looked up, startled by the sound of your camera clicking.

“Hey, no pictures, you dummy.” he protested, though his tone wasn’t harsh. He reached for the camera, but you pulled it away quickly, holding it to your chest with a grin.

“Why not? You look cute, you know?” you teased, winking playfully at him.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “You always say that. Why do you take so many pictures anyway?”

You leaned back in your seat, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass as you thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess… I just want to remember things. The little moments that matter. You never know when they’ll be gone, so I figure I should capture the ones that make me happy.”

Megumi’s eyes softened, and he gave a quiet nod, his gaze thoughtful. “I’m glad you do that. You’ve always had a way of making ordinary moments feel... special.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’m glad you’re here to make them feel special too.”

The rest of the meal passed in a comfortable silence, filled with small chatter and the occasional clink of chopsticks. You felt more at ease than you had in a long time, the weight of the world outside the restaurant seemingly lifted.

Once dinner was over, you both left the warm comfort of the restaurant, stepping into the crisp winter night. The air was fresh and sharp, and the snow had started to fall heavier, painting the streets in a blanket of white. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at the sky, the snowflakes drifting down like confetti.

You walked ahead a few steps, enjoying the peaceful quiet of the night, when you suddenly realized that Megumi wasn’t next to you. Turning around, you saw him standing still, almost frozen in place, his posture slumped in an uncharacteristic way. You paused, confused, until you saw him sway slightly before collapsing onto the snow-covered pavement with a soft thud.

Your heart stopped.

“Megumi!” You rushed over to him in a panic, your breath catching in your throat as you knelt beside him. His face was pale, and his body was limp in the snow, the cold seeping through his clothes.

You gently shook his shoulder, your voice shaking as you called his name again. “Megumi! Hey, wake up, please…”

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t stir. You were beyond scared now. His condition had been worsening for a while, but seeing him like this made your entire world feel like it was crashing down around you. You could feel your heart beating, faster than it ever has. You had never felt such fright in your entire life.

“Megumi, stay with me, please. Please, oh my god—someone help! Please!” you say, your voice breaking as you hovered over him, panic rising in your chest. 

You couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Warm tears were starting to fall from your eyes, contrasting the cold. Everything about this moment felt like you were losing to fate.

You hated this feeling. You hated this helplessness. You hated the thought of losing the love of your life. Everything about this was cruel. And that had just made you cry even more. 

You take a breath, calming yourself, as you quickly pull your phone from your pocket, dialing the emergency number, your hands trembling as you explained the situation to the operator.

You try to check on him, trying to get him to wake up. Tears still pouring endlessly, like raindrops in the winter hale. The minutes stretched on, every second feeling like an eternity.

Megumi stirred slightly, his eyes opening just enough for him to give you a half-smile, his voice weak but still trying to reassure you, even though he clearly wasn’t fully conscious. You gasped, trying to explain to the operator that he woke up. But he immediately cuts you off, his hand on your own. He weakly squeezes it.

“Don’t... don’t worry about me.” he mumbled, his voice barely audible through the cold air. “I’m... fine.”

You shook your head, your tears threatening to spill as you grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “No, you’re not! You’re not fine, Megumi. You’re really not fine.”

“Hey, you…you dummy.” he said, his words slurring slightly. “You... should smile. You... should still... take pictures.”

You shook your head again, laughing through the tears that had started to fall. “I don’t care about pictures, Megumi. I just care about you.”

His eyes fluttered closed again, but he seemed comforted by your words, the faintest hint of a smile still on his lips. You kept holding his hand, never letting go, until the sound of the ambulance arrived in the distance. You didn’t want to, you never wanted to leave. Not him. But you could only pray that he’s just as resolved not to leave you too.

After all, how could you live without him?

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YOU HATED THE SMELL OF HOSPITALS. You don’t like the smell of death, the smell of grief. The smell of suffering all at once gathered through the halls. You were aware just as much that Megumi doesn’t like hospitals either. He’d always hated it as much as you. Even just doing check–ups made him upset. But there was no other choice. He has to live.

This was the only way to keep him alive. This was the only way he wouldn’t leave you. You'd rather he spend the rest of his life hating the smell of this one moment than let him die. You'd do anything to have him for what time is left.

The cold hospital lights buzzed above you as you sat next to Megumi’s bed, your fingers clutching his hand so tightly it almost hurt. His body was hooked up to various machines, the soft, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor the only sound that filled the sterile room. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, the sight of him lying there, pale and fragile, making your chest tighten with every passing second.

The ambulance ride had been a blur of frantic moments, the flashing lights reflecting off the cold pavement as you gripped Megumi’s hand, trying to keep him awake, trying to keep him here with you. But he slipped in and out of consciousness, each time his body growing weaker, his breath shallower.

When you arrived at the hospital, the doctors didn’t waste any time. They immediately ran tests and checked his vitals, and within what felt like an eternity, they informed you of the worst news you could have imagined.

You felt like you were going to lose it when you finally heard all of it in detail. You didn’t want to hear more of it. But you had no choice. You needed to know. You needed to know so you could understand. 

Fushiguro Megumi had been battling a terminal illness, something that had been eating away at him for months, maybe even longer and he had never told you. They told you about his rare, degenerative condition, how it had been causing him excruciating pain, and how little time he had left. 

You didn’t even know how to process it. There was no true way to process it. He was dying. And you just got him back. You were going to lose him, just when you had him back. And that made you feel like you were dying too. Because how? How does one not go mad with it already? 

You wanted to scream, to yell at the world for being so unfair. But instead, you sat there, numb, tears streaming down your face, your hands trembling as you held onto Megumi like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. Why didn’t he tell you? Why had he tried to carry all of this on his own?

And yet, there was a part of you that knew exactly why. It was just like him. Megumi, ever the stoic, ever the quiet one, always putting others before himself, always bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders without ever asking for help.

The sound of his voice broke through the haze of your thoughts. It was weak at first, a soft murmur, but it was unmistakable.

“Hey… stop crying…..you dummy.”

You froze, looking down at him as his eyelids fluttered open, revealing the familiar dark eyes you had always loved. They were dull now, tired, but there was still that softness in them. That quiet strength that had always drawn you to him.

You shook your head, fresh tears spilling from your eyes. “Megumi, please, I—I can’t…” Your voice cracked as the words caught in your throat. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

His hand weakly squeezed yours, his grip not as strong as it used to be, but the touch still sent a wave of warmth through your chest. He shifted slightly in the bed, his brows furrowing as if trying to find the strength to sit up, but his body betrayed him, and he sank back into the pillow, wincing in pain.

“Don’t cry over me. Enough.” he whispered, his voice low and strained. “I’m... I’m not worth it.”

You let out a small sob, your head dropping to the edge of his bed as you tried to compose yourself, though the tears kept coming. “Megumi, you are. You are worth it. You always have been.”

He turned his head slightly toward you, his eyes still clouded with exhaustion, but there was something softer there, something almost apologetic. You hated that look on his face. Because there was nothing to apologize about. Not even once. All you wanted to do was take care of him. All you wanted to do was keep him safe.

“I’ve been so... selfish, haven’t I?” His voice was barely audible, the words coming out in a rasp, but you heard them clearly. “I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t want to burden you with this...”

“You never burdened me, Megumi. You should know that.” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his. “You never were a burden. I would’ve done anything for you...”

He let out a quiet sigh, the corners of his lips twitching up in the faintest smile. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make your heart ache even more. He looked so resigned to his fate, to all of this pain. And you didn’t like it. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be in pain. He shouldn’t be content. Not when you just got back together.

“I know, I know.” he murmured, his voice so weak now that it was almost lost in the hum of the machines around you. “I know you would’ve.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, but it was difficult with the weight of everything pressing down on you. “You don’t have to be strong for me anymore, Megumi.” you whispered, the words barely escaping. “It’s okay to let me help you. Please don’t push me away. I can’t lose you like this.”

His eyes closed again, and for a moment, you thought he might have fallen asleep again, but his voice broke through the silence, softer now, as if he were speaking to himself as much as to you. It was such a low voice, so weary and exhausted. You didn’t like seeing him like this. So beaten by something he can’t control.

“Maybe... maybe I should’ve let you in sooner. I was afraid. Afraid of what would happen if I told you everything.”

You gently cupped his face with your hand, wiping away the tears that still fell freely. “You don’t have to apologize for any of it. I just wish I’d known. I wish I could’ve helped sooner.”

Megumi’s lips parted, but his breath hitched in a shallow cough before he could say anything more. His hand gripped yours again, and this time, he managed a little more pressure, just enough to make you feel the sincerity in his touch.

“I’m glad you’re here, you know?” he whispered softly. “I don’t have much time left... but I’m glad I have you now.”

Your heart shattered at those words, but at the same time, you held onto them, clinging to the fragile thread of time that remained between you. You leaned over and kissed his forehead softly, your heart aching with the knowledge that you didn’t know how much time you had left with him, but you were going to make the most of every precious second.

“I’m here, Megumi. Always.” you whispered. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Days blended together as the winter months stretched on. The world outside seemed to freeze, as if mirroring the heaviness in your heart. Snowflakes continued to fall softly outside the hospital windows, blanketing the world in quiet white, but inside, it felt like the world was slowly slipping away.

You didn’t let yourself dwell on the inevitable. You couldn’t. Every time you looked at Megumi, you saw the man you loved, the man who had always been there for you, even when you hadn’t known you needed him. You stayed by his side every day, holding his hand, speaking to him, telling him about everything you hoped for. 

About how the world was still turning outside, how you wanted to keep making memories, even if it felt impossible. You even began taking photos again. Photos of him. You didn’t know how much time you had left, but you were going to capture every moment, every smile, every soft word between you.

It wasn’t easy. Some days, you couldn’t remember where you’d put your keys, or where your phone was. Little things, fading memories, were slipping through your grasp, like water running through your fingers. But what stayed, what never faded—was how deeply you loved him. How every moment you shared with Megumi had become a treasure in your heart.

It was late one afternoon, the sky already darkening as the cold winds howled outside, when you sat next to him again in his hospital room. The soft beeping of the heart monitor was almost rhythmic now, and the other sounds of the machines had become a steady background hum.

You watched him sleep, his chest rising and falling with the shallow breath of someone who had fought so long to stay with you. You had asked the doctors, of course, but they had never promised anything. They always do that. They say, they can only do their best. Promises are the hardest, especially when it comes to people’s lives. 

You ran your fingers over his hand, brushing against the cool skin that had once been warm, but you didn’t mind. It was still him. Still the Megumi you knew, the Megumi you had spent years beside, growing together, building a life together. Even if that life had been cut short, you would never stop cherishing it.

You whispered softly to him, hoping he could hear, even as he drifted in and out of sleep. “Megumi... I love you. And I’m never going to forget that. No matter what happens, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember you.”

For a long while, there was silence—just the sound of the wind outside and the soft hum of the hospital machines. You thought about the future, or rather, the lack of one that you’d once planned.

The future you had dreamed of with him, one where you could grow old together, laughing at silly jokes, holding hands as you walked through life. But the truth of the situation lingered in the air, thick and undeniable.

And then, just as you were about to close your eyes for a moment’s rest, Megumi’s voice broke the stillness, faint and barely audible.

“Hey...” he said, his voice raspy, but full of that familiar warmth.

You sat up straight, your eyes immediately focusing on him. He was awake, just barely, his eyes blinking slowly in the dim light. A small, tired smile tugged at his lips. He looked so exhausted.

As though he doesn’t have any energy left to live. You hated that, you hated that smile too. You can’t help it. It made you aware how fragile everything is. How fragile life is. How you were far too near to losing him. 

“You... you’re awake?” you whispered, leaning closer, your heart pounding with hope.

He nodded slightly, though the movement seemed to take a lot of effort. “I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m... sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” you said, a smile slipping onto your face, even though your eyes were still damp. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Megumi. I’m just... glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re with me.”

His eyes softened as he looked up at you, his lips parting slightly as he struggled for the words. “I’ve always... wanted you to be happy. Even now, I... I want you to be happy.”

Your heart clenched, and you leaned down, your forehead resting gently against his. “I am happy. Because I’m with you. I have been, and I always will be.”

Megumi smiled again, his hand weakly squeezing yours. His smile was small, but it meant everything to you. The most precious thing in the world. You would carry that smile with you, even if the days grew darker, even if the cold winds of winter began to steal more from you.

In that moment, you made a promise to him in your heart. You promised that, no matter what, you would keep loving him. Even if you forgot everything else, you would never forget the love you shared. You would never forget him.

The room felt colder than it ever had before, despite the soft hum of the heaters and the warmth of the blankets wrapped around Megumi. You sat there beside him, holding his hand, feeling his pulse slowly fading.

The soft beeping of the heart monitor had become slower, more erratic. Your eyes were fixed on him, waiting, hoping for some miracle that you knew would never come.

The doctors had already said it to you, clearly. His time was up. There were no more treatments, no more hopes left to cling to. The harsh reality of it all was suffocating, but you didn’t want to let go. You couldn’t. Not when he had been your everything for so long.

You leaned down closer to him, brushing his bangs out of his face, memorizing the way his features were so familiar, the way his eyes had always held that quiet strength. You whispered to him softly, your voice shaky, as tears slid down your cheeks. 

"Megumi... please, please stay with me. I love you so much."

His breath was shallow now, ragged. But he turned his head toward you ever so slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes still holding a glimmer of something.

Even in the face of his end, there was a calmness in him, a peace that you couldn’t quite grasp. And you wondered, not for the first time, if he had known all along that this was the way things would end.

He barely opened his mouth, but his voice was soft and full of the kind of warmth that you’d come to treasure, the kind of warmth that had always been his, even when he was hurting.

"I'm glad that you were my final view, you dummy…..my love." he said, his voice so quiet, so weak, but full of meaning. "I'm glad that you were my beginning... and my end."

Your heart shattered at the words, but you swallowed back your sobs, trying to stay strong for him. He had always been strong for you, even when he didn’t have to be. And now, it was your turn to be strong for him.

"I love you, so so much." he whispered, the words barely audible but carrying more weight than anything else he could have said. His hand tightened around yours, just for a moment, but it was enough to make your heart soar and break all at once.

You pressed your forehead to his, your tears falling freely now, each drop a painful reminder that time had run out. You wanted to cry out loud. You wanted him to wake up. You wanted him to come back. But you know he won't. He won't ever come back.

"I love you." you whispered back, over and over again, as if saying it would somehow make the pain of losing him easier. "I love you... I love you... I love you."

But there was no answer. No more words. His chest rose and fell one last time, and then it stilled. The beep of the heart monitor flatlines, and with it, the world around you seems to collapse in on itself.

He was gone.

You stayed there, for what felt like an eternity, unable to tear yourself away from his side. You couldn’t bring yourself to let go of his hand, even though you knew he was no longer there to hold it. The warmth of his skin was already starting to fade, but you still clung to it, as though holding on to him would keep him with you forever.

The quiet in the room was deafening, a silence so deep it threatened to swallow you whole. You closed your eyes, trying to push away the overwhelming sorrow that threatened to drown you. But in the quiet, you could still hear his voice, still feel the warmth of his love in your chest.

I love you, he had said. And that was all that mattered now. That was all you could hold onto.

The nurses came in, gently moving you aside, but you didn’t care. They tried to comfort you, to tell you everything would be okay, but nothing would ever be okay again. You had lost the person you loved most in the world, and no one could take that pain away.

Hours passed. Or was it days? You couldn’t remember anymore. The world outside continued to turn, the snow continuing to fall, but all you could think about was him. Megumi. Your Megumi.

The man you loved with every part of you. The man who had been your best friend, your lover, your everything. And now he was gone, and you were left with nothing but the aching emptiness of his absence.

You didn’t leave the hospital that night. You stayed there, next to him, holding his hand, telling him you loved him over and over. You didn’t know if he could hear you. You didn’t know if it mattered.

You just needed him to know. He had been the love of your life, and you would carry that love with you forever. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how much you’d forget, you would never forget him.

The days that followed were a blur of sadness and quiet moments of reflection. The funeral. The family. The friends who came and went, offering their condolences, their words of sympathy. But none of it mattered. Not without him.

Winter gave way to spring, the snow melting and the world coming back to life, but you felt like you were still stuck in the cold. The world had moved on, but you were stuck in that one moment, in that one room, with Megumi.

It was as if time had frozen the moment he left, and you couldn’t break free from it.

But still, you held on to him. You held on to the love he had given you, the smile he had worn for you, and the life you had shared together. Because that was all you had left.

And no matter how much the world tried to take it away from you, you would never forget him.

You will never forget Megumi.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

SOME DAYS ARE EASIER THAN OTHERS, YOU NURSES THINK. But today was not one of those days. Somehow, the days seemed to slip away like water through your fingers, and the world around you grew hazier with each passing moment.

You didn’t know the date, the year, or even your own name anymore. Sometimes, when the nurses spoke to you, you’d hear their voices and understand their words, but the world beyond that seemed so far away.

But there was one thing you could never forget. No matter how much time passed or how much your memory faded, there was always him.

His face, his eyes. Those blue-green eyes that shone with a warmth that made your heart flutter even now. They felt so familiar and yet you couldn’t remember who they belonged to. Who this man was. And yet, you always felt at ease when you painted him. You always felt like life was beautiful, when he stared back at you.

It didn’t matter if you couldn’t remember all of it. How you’ll repeatedly ask what you did and who you met. Or what you were thinking about and or what you wanted to eat. That didn’t matter. All you knew was that whenever you had a brush in your hand, whenever you felt the quiet pull of the canvas, it was his face you painted. It was always him.

It had become a ritual of sorts. The nurses would often find you at the small desk in your room, your hands trembling as you carefully added strokes of color to the canvas. Sometimes it was a portrait.

Everyone could see his strong jawline, his dark tousled hair, the way his lips curled into a gentle smile. Other times, it was an abstract piece, his image lost in swirls of color and light. But it was always him.

No one ever questioned it. The staff knew you were once a famous artist, known for your ability to capture the most subtle emotions in a single stroke. Perhaps that’s why they never seemed surprised to see you lost in your own world, creating pieces of art that you couldn’t fully understand anymore. 

But they saw the joy in your eyes when you painted him, and that was enough. It was more than enough. You were suffering already, in so many ways. What is letting you have some little joy in the things you painted? And so one afternoon, as you carefully placed another layer of paint on the canvas, one of the nurses peeked in. 

"How’s the painting today?" she asked softly, her voice kind.

You looked up, smiling at her, the brush still poised in your hand. "It’s him again." you said, your voice surprisingly steady. "His eyes… I remember his eyes."

She smiled at you, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "You’ve been painting him every day, haven’t you?"

You nodded, not quite understanding why it felt so important to paint him. "He’s got the kindest eyes," you said with a quiet certainty. "The softest face."

She watched you for a moment, her expression filled with understanding. "He must have meant a lot to you."

You blinked, as if the question had never occurred to you. You couldn’t remember the details, couldn’t remember how he had come into your life or who he was, but the feeling that lingered when you thought about him, when you painted him—that you couldn’t deny. It was love. A deep, unshakable love that you could feel, even if you couldn’t understand it completely.

"Yes, I think so." you said, your voice is a little softer now. "He was special. He seems like it."

You looked down at the canvas, the figure of the man emerging once more from the swirls of paint. He had this way of looking at you, even in the paintings—this gentle warmth in his eyes that made you feel safe, loved, and understood, even when the rest of the world seemed so distant.

There was peace in that. 

There was a quiet comfort.

The nurse gave a soft smile, nodding her head before quietly excusing herself. But you stayed, lost in your thoughts as your brush moved again, creating another piece of him. Another piece of your memory, even if it was the only one you had left.

It wasn’t about the name. It wasn’t about remembering the details of the past. It was about the feeling, the love that had lived between you two, that was what mattered. The man with the blue-green eyes, the man who had the kindest smile, was the one you could hold onto in your heart, even as everything else slipped away.

As you continued to paint, a small smile curled on your lips. He was with you. In every stroke, in every color, he was there. And as long as you could still remember that love, you would keep painting him.

No matter how many times the world around you faded, you would never forget him.

He had been the brightest part of your life, and even now, in the quiet of the care home, he was the only thing you still held close.

And that made everything a little easier.

[b-lossm]

•+*Forevers a long time*+•

Vi (arcane) x reader [angst-> comfort kinda..]

synopsis: Vi visits your new home before her big mission..

SEASON 2 SPOILERS KINDA!!!!

This is hard; fathoming the possibility that this may be the last time she sees you, its hard.

Vi tries her best to put up her brave walls again but when she hears your breath getting caught in your throat she realizes that its pointless "H-Hey this isn't goodbye" she says while haphazardly wiping your tears, trying to wipe her own as well, she knows that she might be lying, but for your sake she cant believe that too.

"B--But--" you start "No, I will come back, not in a box, okay?" she tries to reassure you through her shaky words wrapping her arms around you to bring you down "Vi d--don't even say that don't say that I wasn't trying to bring it up but--" hic "You cant leave, no, not right now, everything was going good before the explosion, you cant" you ramble on about how you two where finally gonna have a good life together, how her impatient self waited so long to get out of Stillwater to have a good life with you and now this? She quickly shuts you up with a soft kiss to bring you down.

"Hey--Hey Y/n breathe, breath Lovebug" she attempts to calm you down by tracing shapes into your side and kissing your cheeks, something that always works "I know, I don't like waiting for anything and we finally got here, but to make sure we keep everything we worked for I have to go, its only gonna be for a week ok and the---" you cut her off "Yeah a week where you might die!" she sighs, your right, your almost always right "Yeah, I know" she starts, pausing her motion for a split second, contemplating her life "Lovebug, you gotta understand that even if I do die, its for the greater cause, plus you know Cait, she doesn't miss, and you know me! I don't miss.. well most of the time" she chuckles while planting kisses all over your face and hairline.

When she finally gets you too stop crying she holds your hand "Tell you what.." she starts "When I come back, I'll get you that pretty promise ring you always wanted hm?" your mouth runs dry "Really Vi..?" you ask while your face flushes red "mhm' really, then I'll be yours forever, well until I really propose" she looks into your eyes, the color soothes her, it always does. You shake your head while smiling sadly "Well m' gonna hold it to you Vi, forever's a long time and I need you for that so you better come back" you say bittersweetly, still coping with the idea that your girlfriend might not come back.

"I want you to pinky promise that you'll come back Violet" 'Oh shit', she thinks you used her real name, She smiles and holds up her pinky “If I don't come back I want you too cut my pinky off for the funeral" she jokes as you interlock your fingers and lock it in with your thumbs "M' serious Vi, I need you here.. a lot of us do" you smile shyly "yeah I know" she says with a cocky smirk

Afterwards you two headed to bed and had hot and sad sesbian lex

———————————————————————————

The day after you where a mess.

You got dressed and got her ready to go "Go get her Vi, I'm sorry that its her that you have to get.." you say sadly, reminiscing on the times you and Vi hung out with powder, the times that you wanted the small girl to cherish. "She's gone Y/n, m' sorry but she is, I think I'll be ok." she takes a deep breath, realizing that in a way she's become something she never wanted to be "I know, just, be careful.." You say while admiring your tall girlfriend in the mirror thinking its weird how she's wearing the enforcer uniform, then you hear Caitlyn's knock at the door.

"I guess this is it then.." she starts but you quickly shut her down "No, we where sad yesterday, today your gonna go be the only cool ass enforcer and your gonna get her. Then your gonna come back to me like you promised" You say, determined to lighten the mood, She quickly pulls you into a deep kiss, its a goodbye kiss you know it is, but it doesn't matter to you anymore.

"Bye--Bye Vi, I'll hold up the fort while your gone"

"Bye Lovebug, I'll see you in a week"

you watch them as they leave, Vi looking back too see if you where still looking as many times as she can to make sure she can remember your face.

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

A/n

Season 2 brings me so much sorrow I made a playlist :(

This was supposed to be like Japanese Denim by Daniel Ceaser but it didnt really come through, I'll def make a fic based off of it more in the future though.

also why is there a Vi fanfic drought????, someone pls send me some, not alot of smut tho because there is so much.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You stare through the window as hammering echoes through the glass. Despite the muffling of the barrier between you, it’s loud enough to put you on edge. Or maybe that’s because of the man calmly bringing the iron down on the nails. 

As if he can sense you, he looks up, his dark hair flopping back. You quickly spin away. You have to be going stir crazy. Bucky was just concerned. A lot of people come up this way and get freaked out by the wilderness. You used to when you visited as a child. 

You go back to the kitchen and take out the ingredients for your grandma’s classic turkey stew. It’s always a comfort as the temperature starts to drop. Still, it’s never as good as she made it. One day, you might figure out the secret. 

Cooking is a good distraction. There isn’t much to do up here. Often, you enjoy that facet of your existence. You work then disconnect and just do your own thing. Now you can’t help but feel the desolation. 

Thunk, thunk, thunk. The hammering continues. You put the turkey into roast. It’s always better to season and cook it first then shred it up for the stew. You set the broth to simmer with the chunked veggies and pace the kitchen as you wait for it all to come together. 

You use a fork to pick the meat of the turkey legs and dump it all in the boiling pot. Another hour to meld together and it’ll be ready to serve. The longer you let it, the better. It’s always best the day after. 

The silence doesn’t hit you until you hear the back door. The smell of pine follows Bucky inside. You put your attention to the pot and stir it. 

He sniffs and sighs loudly as he enters. “Ah, smells delicious. Chicken?” 

“Turkey,” you correct him as he twists on the faucet and squirts soap into his hands. He lathers up and looks at you. “It’s funny. Back in my day, not to sound like a crotchety old geezer, women cooked. They had recipe cards on the counter. These days, half the girls I talk to can only use some app to order pizza that tastes like ketchup on cardboard.” 

“Oh, yeah? I kinda miss fast food,” you say dully. 

“Huh. ‘Cause I miss the home cooking. It’s just... simpler.” He shuts off the tap and shifts closer, drying his hand on the dishcloth as he looms. “If it hadn’t all gone to shit, I probably woulda found a good woman. Settled down, lived the good life.” 

“Right,” you nod awkwardly and set the spoon down.  

He clicks his tongue and turns, putting his hand on the counter as he leans on one foot. His other hand goes to his hip. “But then I wouldn’t be here.” 

“Fair,” you say, distancing yourself as you step around him to get to the fridge. “I got some cider left over? Want some? It’s mulled. Julian down by the Rocks makes it--” 

“Think I’m good,” he says. 

You put the large glass jug on the counter and open the cupboard. Bucky catches it and shoves it closed with a snap. You face him in surprise. He’s strong. You know that but feeling it is something else. 

“Sorry, I... I’m in your way?” You wonder. 

“No, you’re right where you should be,” he says. 

You try not to lean away from him. Your heart is racing. You swallow and peer over at the dimming window. 

“I could help you cover up the lumber before--” 

“Already did that,” he interjects. “You know, I think I’m where I need to be too,” he edges closer. “Think after everything, I did find that good woman.” 

You blink, speechless. You can barely think above the tempo behind your ears. 

“I hear it.” He puts his fist to his chest and knocks on it. “I know you feel it too.” He stills his hand and holds it over his heart. “I was pissed when Sam brought me up here. Dropped me off like some stray dog. The longer I’m here, the more I realise he did me a favour. He didn’t dump me on you...” you wince as he pulls his hand away from his chest and opens it to cradle your face, “he gave me you.” 

“Bucky,” you latch onto his wrist but can’t move it. “I think we need some space. Don’t you?” 

“No,” he says flatly. 

“You spend too much time in the same proximity, and it starts to get weird--” 

“No,” he repeats. “I’m right. It’s perfect. You’re strong, you cook, you’re handy, not afraid to get a little dirty,” he slides his hand down to cup your chin. You flinch but can’t pull away. “And you got a nice ass.” 

“Bucky,” you breath and gently shove his chest. “I’m saying to you that you’re wrong. I’m flattered and all but no.” You push harder as he squeezes tighter. You whimper, “ow, let me go. I’m calling Sam-” 

“Shh,” his other hand swoops up to back of your skull. He lurches you closer, bringing you to your nose as he snarls down at you. “You’re not calling anyone.” 

“Bucky--” 

“It’s the way you say my name,” he growls. 

“Please, you’re hurting me--” 

He hushes you again as his thumb rubs behind your jaw. He turns you so your penned in against the counter. You splay your fingers across his chest, dragging them down to his stomach as you push on him. He stands unmoving. 

“Let go--” 

“You. Let go,” he insists calmly. “You built this wall around you. Let it down,” he drops his hand from your head and lets it trail down your back, “let me in.” 

“No, I’m telling you.” You squirm against him. “Stop this, right now.” 

“I know you want me. I found that toy. The little flower, hm?” He tickles along your side, your jaw aching in his grip. “You wanna feel the real thing? Huh?” 

“Please,” you clasp the fabric of his shirt in your fingers. 

“Doll, I want you think about this,” he buries his thumb behind your jaw until you whine. “You’re up here all by yourself. Lonely days, lonelier nights. Anyone could catch on. They could figure out just as fast as I did.” He leans in until you’re nearly bent backwards. “You need a man because any old beast could snatch you up.” 

Your eyes glisten and you search his face. He doesn’t look human. He’s animalistic. His eyes are dark and dilated and his jaw is set with slathering hunger. Your lip trembles. 

"Wouldn't you rather have the beast on your side, doll? Instead of tearing it down?” He purrs and shifts his hand around your chin, bringing his thumb up to poke at your lower lip. “I can be good for you, all you gotta do, is the same.” 

[thehigherseekerastro]

Random Astrology Observations (Alternative Meanings Love Edition) 2 🤨❤️🤔

DISCLAIMER: I am in no way, shape or form a professional astrologer, modern or traditional.

I HAVE been studying astrology for a while now, and analysing charts available to me, as well as my own, and noticed a lot of the info you find online doesn't make sense in real life, because it is too reductive, stereotypical or lacks broader context. So I thought I'd share some of my personal observations to see if it resonates with anyone.

This is NOT the end all, be all. Apply it as it makes sense to you.

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The 1st House 🙋‍♂️

The 1H in synastry is a tricky one, because the first house itself is related to our individual identity. It is the house of self. So, when it comes to having a love planet here, things can get really murky. You'll often hear that it indicates instant attraction, but also only surface-level. While that is not entirely wrong, it would be a disservice to reduce it to just that. Yes, first house ties back to your physical appearance and external impact. But what does that mean for someone else being impacted and impacting that? Does it even apply in synastry? The answer is: YES. And it goes much deeper than you'd think. It will talk about an immediate recognition. It talks of being mesmerized by someone's look and demeanor, but that comes accompanied with an obsessive need to know more about you, to be around you, to soak up as much of you as possible, as if to aggressively learn you. And that's because you will tickle all the boxes the person had been holding inside (and vice-versa).

(e.g.: having someone's planet(s) fall into your 1st house doesn't just mean they will be attracted to you, if it's romantic. It also means the person feels like you two share a vibe, share interests, ideas. It means they feel like you move according to their speed, and therefore, that could lead to a lot of trust and comfort on their part, because you feel like a safe place. Not in the same sense as the 4H, but in a more "this person will have my back, cause we're the same!" kind of way. It makes the person feel like you are enough, because you fit them. So even if everyone else disagrees with them or doesn't understand them, they'll sort of look over at you, and if you validate them, that will be enough for them. They'd rather have your approval – since you are someone who gets them – than to have the approval of a bunch of people who don't understand where they are coming from.)

It truly is a beautiful thing, but even positive planets with positive aspects can lead to unwanted side-effects. The house person could come to resent the planet person because of how much they like them. Depending on who the house person is – if they have a dominant or prideful personality, for example – they may come to resent and even become angry with the planet person at times, because they'll feel so strongly for the planet person that they could start acting out of character for them, and that can make them feel like they're losing control of themselves. And as human beings, what do we do when we feel out of control? Shift blame and start looking for culprits. This DOES tend to wear off, though, exactly because of how intensely the house person feels for the planet person, but it can burn hot for a minute or two, specially if they end up getting into an ugly fight and the 1H person tries to forget the planet person, but they can't bring themselves to hate them. They'll get angry at the fact that no matter how hard they try to hate the person, they still feel enchanted by them.

(this could also create an unwanted feeling of "nobody else is like them", so the 1H could panic a bit at the thought of losing the planet person because 1H synastry creates the immediate feeling of the "perfect person for me", so imagine thinking you found the perfect person for you... it can make you feel like if you lose them you'll never recover, because no one else will be like them or able to replace them as perfectly)

All in all, though, first house Synastry tends to usually show up good results, depending on the planets and aspects involved. Another aspect of this synastry that doesn't get talked about for some reason is the fact that they tend to obsess over and notice the tiny details in each other. So it creates this effect of falling for them over and over and over again, cause they'll keep finding little things about the other person that they find enchanting, and THAT'S what creates the physical attraction. It's not that the planet or house person are conventionally attractive to everyone – they might not even fit the beauty standards –, but to the house person, those little details will sort of build up the planet person's beauty step by step, and by the time they catch on, they'll be enamored with every part of them, so, to the house person, the planet person truly is the most beautiful thing ever.

(1H house synastry also brings a 1st house energy to the attraction. NO - NOT ARIES. First house. But it will sound like arian qualities because Aries does rule the first house, after all. What this means is that a big part of the attraction for the 1H person is feeling like the planet person is independent, self-sufficient, confident, self-assured and capable. Because it's taping into their 1st house of self, the house person can sort of see the best of themselves reflected on the planet person, which means they feel like all the things they are insecure to show the world, the planet person has and is not afraid to show them. So they feel like planet person not only embodies their attraction ideal, but also the ideal personality they wish they had themselves. Which they do, but they don't realize it until planet person comes along and brings it out of them.)

First house Synastry is a complex kind of Synastry that is much more psychological than it's given credit for. People often focus on superficial physical attraction and gloss over the fact that it's like somebody is literally stepping into your mind and making your inner fantasies come out. It can feel very vulnerable and intense.

The 7th House 💍

Oh, isn't this one a gem?! Perhaps one of the most sought after in synastry. But the idea here is to provide an alternative perspective, so here goes: if it's badly aspected, or there's other challenging factors involved (the person falling into your 7H is problematic themselves), you're gonna run into the issues people often attribute to 1st house synastry, such as superficiality and a "false love" because 7H Synastry, regardless if it's good or bad, creates somebody who's "perfect on paper". They say the right things, they do the right things, they seem to fit into your whole ideals. But that does not guarantee that that's who they truly are. That's just who you think they are. Remember – the 7H is the house of "other". So it's not about you. It's about the other. But it's rather how you act around said other, and also how you perceive them.

(It's tough to say this, but you gotta be real to help some people out there who might have had 7H Synastry and didn't understand why the relationship failed, since everyone online claims it's a guaranteed soulmate. It's because Synastry goes both ways. And all houses have good and bad. There is no such thing as the perfect Synastry. But in the case of the 7H, I'd say it's the real life case of "if it's good, then it will be amazing. Truly a soulmate. But if it's bad... it will be awful. Just not immediately.)

Going off of the previous comment, another grim way this Synastry can turn out is in its binding effect. And I don't mean anything spiritual or abstract here. I mean literally binding. Imagine a relationship going sideways like that AND you are also now married or share a business together. MESS! This is the house of contracts and long-term. Remember Saturn exalts in Libra, because Libra likes things that last, and Saturn is the planet of long-term, so the house of Libra will sprinkle that lasting effect over whatever it touches. And if you're in a 7H relationship, that relationship will last with you, whether good or bad. It will take A WHILE to break off from it, either mentally, emotionally, psychologically, legally or financially.

(e.g. somebody has their moon in your 7H, but it's a moon at fall, in Scorpio, and it's afflicted in their natal chart. Now, at the beginning they will seem like a gift from God directly to you, so much so that you decide to make it official... And then, one or two years in, living together, each day it gets more toxic and draining and the dark sides just oozes out of your relationship. But now you are legally married, and divorcing will take time, bureaucracy, money and emotional energy, not to mention you'll have to uproot your entire life, explain it to your social circles and families... And what seemed like your dream come true was in fact a bitter lesson to learn).

To veer away from the dark twists of the last ones, let's dissect the correlations people make with the 7th house, like "oh, your spouse will be interested in art, and beauty, and music, and sophisticated things!" Why? Are you marrying a Libra? A Libra rising? Somebody with a Libra Venus? No? Then that has nothing to do with 7H Synastry. Houses are not signs, signs are not houses. Libra is one thing, the 7H is another. Venus rules Libra, which resides in the 7H, but Venus doesn't rule the 7H. It merely influences the 7H. It would be a better guess to say you might have met your person while they (or you) were already in a relationship than it is to say you met because of beauty-related things, or art, or music, since the 7H doesn't talk of any of those things, but it DOES talk of committed relationships.

(e.g. you might have met the person right after they (or you) got divorced. They might be connected to an ex of yours. Or another possibility that isn't talked about is how the person you eventually end up with is someone you have liked for a long time, but never got the chance to be with until now. Since this is the house of long-term relationships, having placements here could indicate that the person you ultimately stay with long-term is someone you already knew prior to getting together, but you needed to experience other relationships before you united with them.)

Another final aspect of placements in this house is the fact that it doesn't just deal with your love relationships, but also the way you consciously present yourself with others. How you behave socially. But also the mirror effect of this house, speaking directly about love. This is, after all, the house directly opposing the 1st house of self. In that regard, this is similar to 1H synastry, with the exception that in this one, instead of you coming out of your shell subconsciously, you make a conscious effort to become your best for your person here. You want to live up to all of your potential.

The 2nd House 💆‍♂️

This one is a bit tricky for me, because I'm not materialistic AT ALL. I have a Taurus Lilith in the 2nd house, so, I express it on the other end of the spectrum. When you have that placement, you either put too much value on money and material things, or you are completely unattached from it, and that's me. So the whole "money this, money that!" vibe is not my scene. I don't see a price in life, I see value. With that said, let's get this going.

Yes, this is the house of money and material things. Yes, it will deal with your personal finances. But no, unless other parts of your chart/Synastry agree with it, somebody's placements falling here should not have a lasting effect. It might merely indicate you overspending on dates and gifts. The 2H is the house of YOUR money, which means that the whole "oh, they're gonna shower you in gifts!", "And this is a sugar baby aspect!", "Your person will want to spend all their money on you and buy you expensive things!" is probably not gonna happen, sorry. If it does, it will be you spending your money.

(And if you do spend your money, the whole "gifts" thing is also not that common, because normal people don't just go around buying gifts for others every other day of the week, unless they have some sort of imbalance. Such a consumerist mindset! Not everything is about paying for things or buying things. That's a VERY American culture of dating, specially for women. This nasty idea that a man has to buy you or he's not good. Which is what encourages habits like thinking the man always has to be covering your finances (how old are you, 5? Get a job and pay for your own damn self! You are an adult woman), paying for your food, buying you a house, giving you gifts all the time and affording expensive dates. You are not a product. If your biggest incentive to be with a man is because of how much he pays for you, then that's the world's oldest profession, not a relationship of love. So this should play out more like them helping you manage your own finances. Don't go around thinking a 2H love placement is gonna turn you into Cinderella.)

If you do happen to be a stay-at-home person in your relationship, which is valid, as long as it's not all about money, 2H love placements and synastry will talk more about other material aspects of things. It will talk of stability, sustainability, longevity and security.

(e.g.: it could mean that you allocate your resources towards creating a safe, stable environment for your life together to flourish, such as buying things for your home together, revising your finances to make life goals and plans together more viable, setting budgets to achieve milestones together... as well as the literal physical aspects of valuables, so using your resources towards nourishment (food, shelter, clothing and health). Things that will ensure your relationship lasts and endures through hardships and tribulations. In the 2H of values, Synastry could indicate the relationship itself becoming your prized possession that you take care of. All the Earth houses are about caring for things, just in different ways.)

Another poorly explored aspect of the 2H is values in the moral, spiritual and emotional sense. It's WORTH. Both the causes you find worthy as well as your self-worth. A 2H love placement or Synastry can and will directly affect that. Even if you do happen to be dealing with financial/material things too, that can affect your self-worth directly.

(e.g.: say you are married to someone who is constantly in debt, or say your spouse is the breadwinner of the household and you depend on them financially. That can really take a toll on your self-worth. It can bring feelings of poor self-esteem, can you make you feel undervalued, inadequate, make you feel like a burden, or make you feel incapable of caring for yourself. It can strike your self-confidence and make you VALUE yourself less. Or the opposite. Your spouse may open you up to new possibilities of making money, which in turn gets you into a new passion project that you succeed in and that can make you feel like a worthy person, make you believe in yourself, make you feel important and valuable.)

I would argue that most often, it's the 8H Synastry that will really have your partner's materials affecting you, because the 2H is the house of your PERSONAL gains, while the 8H is the house of OTHERS' gains and possessions. Most often, the biggest impact I'd say 2H love placements have will be dealing with self-worth, self-confidence, shared values and morals, feelings of belonging and acceptance.

General Things ✨

What I see most often is that positive and negative outcomes tend to happen simultaneously. It's not all doom and gloom, but it's also not all sunshine and rainbows all the time. Sometimes it's great, sometimes it's not so great, and those ups and downs come and go. That's just life. Both are there to be worked with, worked for, or worked through. At the end of the day, astrology will not mandate your life events, and you have to always be learning from your life, and working on yourself and the things that matter to you. Astrology is just a guiding light to identify possible themes to be mindful of.

**************************************************

That's it! Thank you if you've read it this far! I might have come off a bit harsh (I hope I haven't), but I promise I'm nice lol.

My whole goal is to try to discuss astrology in as realistically as possible, but while making it clear that any possible outcome is plausible. If most times all you hear are fantastic stereotypical descriptions of placements, such as 7H, the not so great ways in which it can play out will be explored here to help people navigate them. If all you hear are bad things about a house, then I'll try to show the positive ways in which it can come out.

The whole point is to try to bring a wide range of notions to these descriptions, together with the information that is already out there and available by many other creators.

At the end of the day, remember this is all POSSIBILITIES. Your personal life has to be analysed to know what's gonna ensue. And don't be discouraged, because the truth is that positive and negative effects tend to happen together for your best.

Hope you have a good day when you find this!

MASTERLIST

[askfordoodles]

Ok, fellow Emmrichmancers, I need to defend my girl Harding here for a bit, cause she's been getting some disdain and eye-rolling for being the supposed 'discourse-mouthpiece' (ie. being the only one calling out the age gap thing).

Listen, ... when she first brings it up, that's what it SOUNDS like she's doing. Harding has a tendency to struggle with wording things well, she's life-smart, not book-smart - so that first banter does read as though she's worried FOR Rook in that patronizing way like a parent or older sibling, who thinks they know better... (heck even Emmrich potentially falls into that trap during the argument)

but then there's follow-up banter and it becomes clear that, no, she's not worried Emmrich might be taking advantage of poor innocent younger Rook; it becomes increasingly clear she's worried about HIS feelings. She's always addressing her concerns to HIM, and worrying about how they're "going too fast" (even IF he's made the promise to Rook to move slowly during their first dinner-date).

Harding's making observations about how he's becoming noticeably "mopey", she can TELL something's worrying HIM. (mind you, not even Rook seemed to have picked up on this)

And in turn he's very honest with Harding about how, despite defending himself against Davrin's juvenile jabs and appreciating/enduring Taash's sentiments and all that jazz, the age gap thing DOES secretly bother him. (the fact that he doesn't start moping straight away suggests that Harding was right, they DID go a bit too fast and Emmrich especially, was blinded by the honeymoon-phase so to speak). He does end up genuinely thanking her for her concern and advice, to try and think ahead about the relationship.

(Although sadly it still takes their potential impending deaths for him to reach their crisis-stage of needing to address his worries and I could do a whole essay alone on how he chooses to handle it, but others already have, so not now)

Say what you will about her, out of all their mutual friends, Harding was the ONLY ONE to see the pre-battle argument coming from A MILE AWAY, and she was trying to gently warn them; to try and nudge her two friends to have a serious talk about the consequences ahead, rather than blithely avoiding it.

tl;dr: Harding's got that serious emotional intelligence, and y'all best RESPECT her relationship advice.

[itsnotbird]

On the Run

Civil War! Bucky x Fem! Reader

Non-canon imagine

Warnings: Language, acts of violence, mentions of Winter Soldier Bucky.

Summary: Your domestic life was good with Bucky, that’s because the two of you were skilled in knowing when it was time to move on. Now, Steve Rogers is here to ‘save the day’, and it isn’t what you two needed.

You used lay awake for hours on end at night, staring at the ceiling, listening to any faint noises in the distance.

That was different now.

Your body knew rest, it knew a sense of comfort. Though it took you awhile to achieve it, and though it wasn’t perfect, the peace was all you needed.

Well, peace and him by your side.

The mattress wasn’t necessarily something to rave about, it was small and springy, but it was a bed and it was suitable. The sheets weren’t pillow soft, but none of those small things mattered when you’re twisted together with a man who made you feel secure no matter what.

You wake to the sun shining in from the kitchen window and the sound of the street of Bucharest outside. Eyes opening, you’re face to face with the picture in front of you. He’s painted golden by the sunlight, face relaxed. No night terrors came for neither you nor him so rest was the only thing in the air.

Hair falling across his forehead, you reach to push it back, then trace the bridge of his nose with the tip of your finger. You gently smile, your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“James.” You whisper, trying to softly stir him. “Bucky, the sun’s up.”

You’ve learned that there has to be a gentle approach to how you wake him, anything too hasty sends him into a panic. So that’s why you whisper to him before pressing your kiss to his face.

It’s a gentle kind of love, one that both of you have never experienced before. And after everything, all the things the two of you endured, it still makes Bucky wonder how it could be so easy for you to be so soft with him, to him. In his corrupted mind, he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve to be roused by you nuzzling against him. But you reassure him every single time that he will never know violence from your touch if you never have to know cruelty from his. Maybe that’s why the two of you are so content in the way you are. You spent your life under the thumb of abusers, now the slice of freedom you have feels like cool water.

Refreshing.

Bucky stirs awake, letting out a soft groan as you kiss the corner of his lips before pushing the covers off yourself.

Those blue eyes open to watch you stand from the bed and stretch your arms over your head, causing the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, his shirt, to ride up past your thighs and flash your underwear to him.

He smiles to himself.

“I have a job to get to in thirty minutes.” You tell him, wandering off into the bathroom. “Nothing illegal this time…I think.”

Bucky rolls onto his back and chuckles to himself.

“It’s still illegal even if no one gets hurt doing it” He reminds, voice groggy.

You lean against the door frame as you brush your teeth, the toothpaste is foaming in your mouth as you mutter.

“I’m simply an undercover…intel associate who makes her living off of knowing things.” You say before going back to the sink to wash your mouth.

“You’re a spy for hire.” He states as he sits up, rubbing his eyes.

“So are you.” You argue, washing your face. “Don’t be the pot to my kettle, James.”

He rolls his eyes and comes to join you in the small bathroom, pulling sweatpants on as he does so. “To be fair…it’s not like you could go work at the coffee shop.” He says, grabbing your hips as he slides you out of the way so he can grab his own toothbrush.

You hum and pout as you reach for the hairbrush, the one the two of you share because that’s how life is now, sharing things.

“I did apply for the barista position, they rejected me because of my lack of people skills.” You joke.

Bucky looks at you in the mirror, giving you a shrug. “You win some, you lose some.”

You study his expression, then turn to face him with a small, hopeful smile.

“Good day or bad day?” You ask, making him stop and face you.

Bucky nods. “Good day.”

One thing you’ve come to learn is bad days for Bucky are common, more common than bad days for you. Every day, the two of you ask each other the same question just to gauge each other’s mood.

And if Bucky said it’s a good day for him, then it’s a great day for you.

You kiss his cheek, making him give you a sideways grin before you go search for clothes of your own. Buttoning your dark cargo pants, you tie up your boots and go to the dresser drawer that should be housing socks and underwear.

Instead, multiple weapons look back at you as you open it.

You place a pistol in your concealed holster, then pull a jean jacket on.

“It’ll take an hour, two at most.” You say, coming over to Bucky as he watches you.

Reaching for his watch on the counter, you set a timer for how long the job should take and then hand it to him. It’s something the two of you learned to do when separating from each other, something that eases anxiety.

Bucky takes the watch and fastens it to his wrist, then tilts your chin up to meet his eye.

“Don’t get hurt.” He states.

“I promise.” You say, searching his nervous look.

“Don’t…lose control.” He adds.

You swallow the scared feeling.

“Never again.”

With that, he kisses you meaningfully.

Intimacy was something the two of you took a painfully long time to get used to. The idea of letting someone that close was a nightmare, and it took weeks and months after the two of you got away for you to determine what feelings were what. So nothing was ever casual, not when the only relationship you have was each other. In Bucky’s mind, once he figured out how to function it, you were the only thing in life that mattered. He can’t express fear or worry or love in words properly, but he knows if he locks his fingers with yours or kisses you a certain way, you’ll understand.

You always understand.

It makes things easy, you do the talking when he can’t and he expresses feelings in ways you aren’t too sure how to sometimes.

“Be smart.” He says when you finally pull away.

At that, you scoff. “I’m always smart.”

- - - -

He’s found that people watching is calming, like it helps reconnect wires in his brain by learning strangers habits.

Walking through street vendors, he enjoys the fact that his mind has taken the day off on torturing him.

As he goes through the produce section, he stops at a kind man’s booth and looks at fruit in front of him.

Plums.

Your favorite.

He remembers all the stories you used to tell him to get him to fall asleep, how you grew up on an orchard, how you spent days wandering through the plum trees, picking the fruit and laying in the sun while sucking the juice.

He has a brief conversation with the kind man and purchases four plums, just because he knows you’ll look at him in adoration when he presents them to you.

Today was a good day, he slept dreamlessly, he woke up to you, he’s out in public and doesn’t feel on edge-

There.

Just there.

Across the street at the news stand.

Bucky sees the man running the stand look at him a certain way, a way he shouldn’t be looked at. Crossing the street, Bucky approaches the news stand in confusion, and just as he makes a few moves forward, the man flees.

The headline on the papers instantly ruins the previous good mood.

The Winter Soldier, accused of a major bombing.

As he rereads the paper over and over in disbelief, the watch on his wrist beeps.

You should be arriving home.

He heads for that direction.

- - - -

You shut the door behind you and toss the keys onto the counter, walking into the bathroom with the intention of taking a hot shower to wash away the stressful job you just completed.

It all went okay in the end, and a wad of cash is in your pocket, making you feel successful, but it was a harder job than anticipated.

You pull the shower curtain back and just as you reach to turn the water on, the energy around you shifts.

Immediately, you pause, holding your breath and trying to listen carefully.

There’s the sound of boots in the kitchen, and you would claim them to belong to Bucky but you know the sound of his footstep, you know the way his energy feels, you know the feeling you’d have if he were on the other side of the door, and it’s a feeling you do not have.

Steve Rogers looks around the small space.

It’s minimal, a hideout he’s imagined in his head with newspaper on the windows and a serious lack of personal touch. He looks at the made bed, then reaches to pick up something that confuses him a little.

Once he realizes it’s a woman’s bra, he instantly drops it in shock.

He moves into the kitchen, and picks up a notebook laying on a shelf next to vanilla wafers you eat when you’re overcome with nauseating headaches and can’t seem to eat anything else.

Just another lasting side effect from HYDRA.

He opens the notebook and immediately notices Bucky’s handwriting. Flipping through pages, he finds a photo taped to a page free of journal entries.

It’s of a woman.

You.

It’s from when the two of you first found the apartment, you’re taping news papers to the glass, looking rather unamused as your picture is taken when you’re just in a pair of boxer shorts and a band t shirt that falls off your shoulder.

You’re effortlessly gorgeous.

Your name is inked under the photo with the date, almost like he put it there to ensure he doesn’t forget you.

A common fear of Bucky’s.

Steve shuts the book with the intention of taking it back to Sam so they can look into who you are and why you’re in the journal. Sam warns him through the earpiece that german special forces were soon approaching, and he responds, saying that he understood.

You pull the gun from your belt and take a deep breath, slowly twisting the door knob to peer out of the bathroom.

Steve hears a sort of rustle, though it doesn’t come from the bathroom, it comes from behind him wear Bucky has joined the scene.

Standing silently, he looks at Steve with an unsure eye, then looks to the keys on the counter and knows that you are hiding out somewhere.

Steve turns to face his once best friend and lets out a shaky breath.

“Do you know me?” He asks him.

Bucky’s heart pounds in his ears as he pushes through brain fog and tries to run through plans in his head. If Steve Rogers was standing in his kitchen, and the headlines say The Winter Soldier bombed the UN, that means he had to flee fast.

“You’re Steve.” Bucky says. “I read about you in the museum.”

You listen closely to the conversation, trying to run through your own plan.

“I know you’re nervous. You have every reason to be…but you’re lying.” Steve says, still grasping the journal in his hand.

That’s making Bucky twitch.

“I wasn’t in Vienna, I don’t do that anymore.” He says, and out of his peripheral vision, he sees you open the bathroom door just a crack more.

“Well the people who think you did are coming here, and they aren’t going to take you alive.” Steve says in a serious tone, taking a step closer.

“That’s smart, a good strategy.” Bucky agrees, making Steve roll his eyes.

“Where’s the girl?” He asks.

Bucky’s jaw clenches. “What girl?”

Steve shakes his head at the lie, then rips open the journal and points to your picture. “This girl, Buck. Be smart about this, I can help you.”

Breathe.

He has to remind himself.

“It would be helpful if you left right now before it’s too late.” He says, setting his things down and taking off his gloves, flexing his metal hand.

Above you, you can hear heavy boots and your heart stops. You push the door open wider, sneaking your way behind the soldier that’s telling Bucky it doesn’t have to end in a fight, that he could leave with him right now and everything would be fine.

That’s when Steve hears the defining click of a gun being loaded.

“Did someone fail to tell you that this isn’t a task for Captain fucking America?” You say lowly, aiming the gun right at the man. Your heart pounds in your ears, adrenaline and anxiety make you feel sick.

Steve gives Bucky a look, then sighs.

“You had to pick a crazy one?”

Bucky shrugs.

You circle Steve, coming to his front to let him see the angry look in your eye. “You want to see crazy?”

Bucky hooks a finger around your back belt loop and pulls you to him, muttering something in Russian that Steve doesn’t understand. Whatever is asked of you, you look up at him with a slightly scared look. Bucky just stares back at you, giving you a slight head nod, encouraging you silently. That’s the only reason you turn your back on Steve and rush to the closet, grabbing your back pack.

“Buck, I came here to help.” Steve reasons once he’s recovered his shock.

“Leading special forces here doesn’t seem like helping.” Bucky states.

“It wasn’t me who did that.” Steve reasons.

That’s when agents invade the apartment.

It’s a fight, rough and seemingly never ending, and the entire time that you’re trying to escape, Steve is there, trying to reason with Bucky.

“James.” You shout as you’re struggling to hold your own against the three officers you keep dodging.

Immediately, he finds you, ripping the men away from you. Once free, you’re trying to make it down the stairs of the apartment building, but there’s no escape from the troops that are after you.

Barely processing what’s happening as Bucky breaks the glass of the stairwell window, he’s gripping your hand tightly and coaxing you to jump, falling a very far distance to a rooftop. It probably would hurt a whole lot more if Bucky didn’t break your fall.

Eyes squeezed shut as you roll off of him, you pant with gritted teeth. “This is going to bruise.”

“Walk it off.” He says, helping you up.

As the two of you start running, Bucky suddenly falls behind. You look over at him, only to see him battling a…

Cat?

Panicking, you shoot just above the figure, startling it enough to refrain from clawing Bucky’s throat out.

Jaguar hero? Panther man?

“Here kitty kitty.” You call, gaining the enemy’s attention, drawing it to you instead.

“Jesus, who is this chick?” Sam asks Steve as they start to join the scene.

Steve jumps from the window you did moments before. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out!”

Adrenaline is pumping through you, blocking out the crippling fear that this could end badly. There’s a sliver of hope that this would be like the times before on the run, where you find some place new to be from. You and Bucky dodge all the threats, having a shared mindset on just keeping the other alive.

You’ve been in bad situations, but as the two of you end up surrounded by agents and police on the freeway, you think this is far by the worst ending to come of things.

So much for a good day.

And now everyone is being handcuffed, including Steve and the man-bird he has as a sidekick.

Why are all the jungle animals after you today?

Your knees are kicked out from behind you, a man grips your hair and shoves you to the ground, causing you to yell out.

“Let her go!” Bucky shouts from beside you as he himself gets detained. “She had nothing to do with this.” He argues, desperately trying to get them away from you.

“James, what did you do?” You grunt, cheek pressed to the ground, looking at him in the same position.

“Nothing!” He argues. “Just do what they say, it’ll be okay, baby.”

“He bombed the UN.” An officer says, tone angry.

“He can’t even make toast without burning it- ow! I’m really not into hair pulling.” You seethe.

The adrenaline that was once keeping you going has worn down and you’re shaking on the inside as you’re shoved into the back of a military truck.

Your leg bounces up and down, and if his hands were free, he’d stop the motion.

It’s silent, the two officers sitting in front of the two of you stare.

“You still having a good day?” You ask Bucky.

He looks over at you with an irritated look, not irritated with you of course, just in general. “No. This is a very bad day.”

“Don’t speak to the prisoner, ma’am. He’s a threat.” The younger officer says to you.

“This guy’s a threat? He puts spiders outside instead of killing them.” You say with a tone of disbelief.

Bucky says your name as if to tell you to not waste your breath.

You don’t listen of course.

“Hey, why am I not a threat?” You ask.

“You didn’t bomb the UN.” The man reasons.

They’re still stuck on that.

“Maybe I did. You’re not an expert, you weren’t there. Now, I’m not gonna admit it because I know how you narcs work, but I’m going to make you wonder.”

Bucky starts to laugh before the second officer orders the both of you to be quiet.

- - - -

Of course they separate you.

Of course they lock Bucky in some kind of inhuman looking box to make sure he can’t escape and of course they throw you into a room with nothing but a table, two chairs and a surveillance camera.

You try to get out of a good twenty minutes, then scream at the camera for answers, shouting questions.

Steve stands in the office and watches the monitor, eyes flickering back between your live meltdown to Bucky who sits still in his confinement and doesn’t do anything.

“Who’s she?” Stark asks, curious at the scene.

“That would be the side kick.” Sam answers, chuckling as you lunge one of the chairs at the camera.

Natasha joins the men with a file in her hand.

“This is all I could find on her.” She says, handing the folder to Steve.

He reads the information, then gets some sort of clarity.

“I want to talk to her.” He says.

“Absolutely not.” Shannon immediately says.

“She’s how we get through to him.” He argues.

There’s a moment of uncertainty, because the last thing they need is to get into more trouble.

But they do it anyway.

You’re sat in the corner, head in your hands, trying to keep your thoughts straight.

You weren’t a huge fan of being locked in small rooms, probably because a life of confinement is pretty much all you knew.

There’s a sound of the doors electronic lock being opened, and in comes the man you’d rather not see.

Immediately, you stand with your guard up.

“You going to try and shoot me?” Steve asks.

“You took my guns.” You simply say.

Shanon stands guard as Steve comes closer.

“I know we got off on the wrong foot, but believe me when I say I just want to help.”

You laugh, looking at the floor as he continues to talk.

“Is there anything you can tell us that will help his case? Where was he today? Yesterday?” Steve asks, and you glare.

“You want the play by play? Seriously?” You scoff. “Fine. I woke up at eight o’clock, I went to work and left him in the apartment that your guys ruined-”

“They aren’t my guys.” He clarifies.

“-and my guess is he went into the city. I came home and found you rudely invaded my home.” You say sharply, taking a step away when he comes another foot forward.

“I came to warn you that they were after him. To be fair, I didn’t know you existed.” Steve tries to reason, but you just laugh.

“He must’ve forgot to include it in his letters to you, sorry, he’s been a little busy trying to piece his mind back together.” You spit. “The entire point of laying low, is to not let people know you exist, and we were doing a pretty good job at it.” Your anger rises, and your eyes keep flickering back to the woman at the door and wondering if it’s locked.

You could take her, she’d be easy.

Steve grunts in frustration. “Clearly not well enough that special forces found you.”

You lash out. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been found, but we could’ve had a plan if you didn’t butt in. We could’ve already been on a train in the time it took you to try and reason with him.”

Steve huffs and rubs his temples. “If you would’ve come with me, you wouldn’t have had to run. I could’ve helped you.”

“That’s what you don’t get!” You shout. “We have been fine for two years, we had a life, we had a plan for every situation and we didn’t need you. Now look what you’ve done! He’s getting psychologically evaluated, when everyone knows he’s not going to pass whatever test they have for him.”

Your chest heaves as you try to not let your voice crack.

You’re deathly afraid. All the images of lazy mornings and creative dinners flash before you and there’s that overwhelming thought that you’ll never know that peace again.

“I know you’re scared.” Steve says a little softer now. “But if you cooperate-"

The power goes out.

Just like that.

Emergency lighting flickers on lowly, and there’s a moment of silence before the walkie Shanon wears goes off.

“Everybody, get eyes on Barnes, now!”

Wordlessly, Shanon turns out of the room, causing Steve to follow. Though they shut the door behind them, they fail to realize the lock mechanism isn’t going to work now that everything’s fried.

“Idiots.” You huff, flinging the door open.

You run down the halls until you come across the office where they took any belongings you and Bucky had.

You were going to find him and the two of you were going to find a way to get out of this hell. Grabbing both back packs, you try to go towards the direction everyone is fleeing from, knowing that’s where he’ll be.

Maybe that’s the same agenda Bucky has, or more like the agenda the winter soldier has as he’s triggered to take over. He should have known better, that man claiming to be good knew all the right words to get his brain to switch over into some kind of kill mode. He fights his way past everyone who tries to stop him, overwhelmed by a feeling of loss, like he’s supposed to be searching and finding someone. You. That’s it, that’s what he needs to do next.

He stops anyone who comes after him, on a mission to retrieve you.

You burst out of a door, looking around for any signs of him.

There’s many bruised people on the ground, trying to get up and recover.

He had to be close.

Your heart beats loudly in your ears, backing up, you go to turn and run, but his large figure stops you.

“Bucky.” You gasp in relief, immediately handing him his pack. “We have to go, I think we can-”

He grips your wrist, not tight enough to harm, but tighter than he would ever grab you.

You meet his dark eyes and your face pales.

No.

This can’t be happening.

“James.” You speak, though he doesn’t answer, just stares right back at you.

The word is hot on your tongue and it tastes like anguish as you say it. “солдат?”

Soldat.

That, he answers to. With a tug of your arm, he tells you to follow, giving you no time to process anything. Though Bucky has told you many times that he isn’t to be trusted like this, you can’t help but feel like he isn’t going to harm you, not when he’s shoving anyone out of the way and guides you to the roof top helicopter pad.

He sits you in the passenger seat of the air craft.

“пребывание.” He orders, then goes to the other side and somehow manages to get the helicopter roaring up.

You watch Steve rush onto the pad just as the two of you pull away, he runs after you, trying and failing to stop you.

You look down as you get higher and higher, and no time is wasted, you’re being flown far far away.

He doesn’t utter one word, and you aren’t sure if you should either. Trusting him is all you can do.

About an hour later, when you’re far enough away from city limits, the helicopter is being landed in a clearing.

Even as you’re being pulled out of your seat and he grabs his backpack, he doesn’t talk. Walking fast to keep up with him, you follow him for a mile until you stumble upon a bus stop.

He sits you down, then tells you to stay.

He stands and sweeps over the surroundings.

“Soldat.” You say, clenching your hands at the odd place you are put in.

You didn’t think you’d have to experience this version of Bucky again.

Now you have to figure out how to make it go away.

He turns to look at you, blankly.

With a calming breath, you command him to sit. When he does, you try to ignore the ill feeling it gives you, a cruel remembrance of how perfectly trained they had him.

“You have to go away.” You say and it confuses him.

“I will stay with you.” He says.

“You don’t need to.” You reassure.

His brows furrow. “You are my mission.”

“Your mission is complete, well done.” You encourage, grabbing his hand in yours.

He looks at the contact like it’s so foreign, and your heart aches.

“Do you understand? Your mission is complete, your service is no longer needed.” You say, searching his eyes for the light that slowly returns as this soldier sinks back into hiding.

He takes a large breath and shudders.

Then his eyes are frantic and a little confused.

“James.” You speak, reaching to hold his face in your palms. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“What- what happened? Did I- what?” He frantically says, trying to process everything.

“You didn’t do anything extreme.”

He tries to manage his breathing, then examines you fully, making sure there are no cuts or bruises on your skin.

“Hey.” You coo softly, hand on his cheek. “I’m alright, you didn’t hurt me.”

There’s a sense of relief in his eyes, that’s when he pushes his forehead to yours in a painfully human embrace. You push his hair behind his ears, breathing in when he breathes out.

“I’m sorry.” You say, meaning it. “I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

He tucks his hand under your hair, bracing on the base of your skull.

“This isn’t on you…we just have really bad luck.”

You laugh, nuzzling your nose against his. “I guess we really aren’t done with being on the run.”

The two of you sit just like this until the bus pulls up beside you. Then you find a seat in the back and lean against the window while Bucky leans against you and keeps a watchful eye of the bus.

“What about the Netherlands?” You offer into the silence, twisting your fingers into his.

“You’re wanted all over the country.” He reminds.

Sometimes the world just wasn’t big enough when your face is on ‘be on the lookout’ posters.

“Norway?” He suggests.

“You really want to go back there?” You raise a brow at him.

“…Scotland?”

You think for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, Scotland will do.”

[ramblinscramblin]

May I request scout and demo (and maybe heavy if you want) with a ftm reader??? It can be any scenario NSFW, sfw idc. I'm hungry and I need food 😭 (you don't gotta do this btw just a little thought ♥️)

-‼️

→With a FTM reader!

Genre: slice of life, fluff! Male reader!

Characters: Scout, Demo, Heavy

Of COURSE I will write this. Relationship left pretty ambiguous. Hope you enjoy! Thank you again for the ask!

Scout

Scout definitely doesn’t realize without you spelling it out for him, no matter how “feminine” you may present.

Asks A LOT of questions, borders on invasive, but is just genuinely pretty confused and intrigued about it.

“So… wait, you were born a chick, but now you’re a guy? How’s dat work?”

“Scout, we have been over this. Literally ten times,” you say, exasperated.

After the initial long and honestly exhausting conversation, the two of you feel closer for it. He’s secretly sentimental as hell, so he appreciates you telling him so much, like it genuinely makes him feel so trusted.

When you come out to him, the support is not instant, as he tends to show these kinds of things in really covert ways, he doesn’t want anyone knowing he has a big heart.

But the second someone says something out of line that is when his support is the most apparent. Always corrects someone when they misgender you, but if they continue after he corrects them? Buddy, it’s over.

You tell scout you appreciate it, but you can stand up for yourself. He’s not really having it though, too hot headed to let it go.

Genuinely forgets your trans at time.

“Why don’t you ever use the urinals? S’weird,” the commented once as you left the bathroom together.

“Scout.”

“What?” He blinked at you dumbly for a few seconds, before realization dawns on him “oh shit! Dats right, sorry.”

He’s trying his best.

Demoman

Demo is part of team “not really my business so it doesn’t affect me”

As in it doesn’t really affect the way that he feels about you, or the way he treats you.

Doesn’t ask any questions unless it’s clear to him it’s something you’d like to talk about.

Depending on closeness he may even feel confident in making some jokes about it. Only if you find them funny though, absolutely wouldn’t do it if made you upset/uncomfortable.

Is big into giving you male experiences that you may have missed out on, mostly cliché and stereotypical things, some of which you have probably definitely done before.

“Demo, I think we’re a little too old to be playing trains right now,” you say, holding a train in your hand.

“Fine then, I’ll just clean it up then,” Demo said with a huff.

You stop him “well… I didn’t say that.”

Let’s you speak for yourself in most settings, but if you ever express your discomfort in a situation he won’t hesitate to remove you from it/remove the person causing this discomfort.

Doesn’t make a huge scene, will take the blame for you saying it’s him who’s got a problem.

Demo supports you when you need it, encourages you through your medical transition if you choose to do so/if you haven’t already.

Alternatively, reassures you that you’re not less of a man for not having surgeries or using HRT if you choose not to.

I honestly believe that Demo has been around a lot of queer people, he’s the world’s best trans ally.

Heavy

Heavy, like Scout has a lot of questions when you come out. Isn’t nearly as invasive and holds back anything that he thinks may make you uncomfortable.

It doesn’t change how he views you, thinks of you as man no matter what.

Really appreciates that he’s someone you trust enough to tell, even if he doesn’t fully get it, he understands that it can be a nerve wracking thing to talk about.

Recommends medic if you want to have any surgeries done, respectfully you decline. Fearing for the rest of your organs well being.

Heavy does a lot of reading to ensure he gets things right, but only brings up your transness if you do.

Loves hearing about your trans experience if you tell him about it, will listen intently taking mental notes.

Doesn’t feel the need to protect you, you’re a grown man who handled himself perfectly fine without him. But, like Demo, if he feels you getting a little out of your depth all he really has to do is come stand behind you.

Gender affirming nicknames, always. I feel like Heavy is big into nicknames some of his favorite for you is “big man” “guy” “handsome” if he’s feeling bold.

“How is the big man today,” he asked coming up to you one day.

You chuckle a little bit “it really should be me asking you that.”

Being with Heavy is a testosterone booster, just enjoy being masculine together.

OOOOO I LOVED WRITING THIS SO MUCH. I may revisit this idea later and add more of the mercs, for now I have more asks to get to! Thanks so much for the ask! (*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)

[maddiethedogstories]

The Book Store

The familiar sound of the bell ringing as you entered the door along with the musty smell of books assaulted your senses as you stepped into your favorite book store. You couldn't help but smile as you were hit by the rush of nostalgia as you crossed the threshold into the cozy, little shop.

Each time you left the shop, you left with a new book, a new story, and, in a lot of ways, a new life.

You smiled at the shopkeeper, a lovely woman who had owned the store since you started coming here with your parents as a small child.

"Hello, Sweetie!" She called out cheerily, as you waved at her, "Can I help you with anything?"

"No," You say as you walk towards your favorite section, Romance, "Just browsing today."

You feel a strange tingling course through your body as you drew closer to the books decorated with steamy covers, a nod to the smut hidden inside. You didn't notice the shop owner standing behind you before you feel her hand on your shoulder as you reach for a particularly raunchy dark romance.

"And what do you think you're doing, Little One? I think these books are a bit too mature for you!"

You tried to protest as she dragged you away from the bookshelf, but suddenly felt something soft and rubbery filling your mouth, making it impossible for you to talk.

"Here we go, sweetie, these books are a little more your speed. Why don't you plop down on our magic carpet, and I'll find us a book to take us on a little adventure together?"

You wanted to protest that you were much too old to sit on the store's "Magic Reading Carpet," let alone be read to like a toddler. However, as the woman spoke, you felt your legs turn to jelly, causing you to sit on the carpet right where she indicated with a suddenly suspicious squishy feeling cushioning your uncoordinated fall.

Before you could assess your situation further, the store clerk came back with a copy of Green Eggs and Ham.

You tried to groan at the thought of being read such a childish book, but instead found yourself giggling around the rubbery object in your mouth as the women settled into the rocking chair on the carpet and began reading.

As the story progressed, you find yourself utterly entranced. You don't notice when you lean forward at start grunting, and remained oblivious to the horrid smell emanating from you the feeling of a lump growing under your bottom. You were fully absorbed in the story.

When the story ends, you foundd yourself suddenly wanting to cry. Tears start to fall unbidden to your cheeks as you softly lisp out, "More, more!"

The clerk smiled warmly as she closed the book and looked over your head.

"Oh, baby, that's all the stories you need for today," a cheerful voice rings out from behind you, "I think it's time to get you home though."

You turn to see a beautiful young woman walk up behind you, before she lifts you from the floor and into her arms with surprising ease.

You find yourself clutching her, almost as if out of well-worn habit, as she talks to the clerk.

"Thank you for the story! I think it's time I got my little monkey home though!" The new woman said as she carried you out of the store.

"Bye, bye!" The clerk said as bell on in the front door rang.

You waved feebly as you looked at the clerk over your new Mommy's shoulder, leaving the book store with yet another new life.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Mine friendo, one, I dunno why it reblogged three times and I do not take any of that back, and two, I need your take on a Nikto kitter cause I wanna, with permission, write a piece with your au 🙏 if it's okay

Okay so, I had to wait until I got home for this but PLEASE IT'S OKAY TO WRITE FOR THIS OH MY GOSH PLEASE DO. All I ask is a tag as credit please. I mean, it's not really my au, it's just appreciated. It's not necessary. What is necessary is tagging me so I can read it! I want to read this!!!

TW: mentions of torture, violence, recovering from grievous wounds

However, your other part of your ask might lead to a bit of a tragedy. See, when Kortac created their task force of cat hybrids, they were trying to use the parts of cats that make perfect hunters to make their soldiers. Silent, fast, agile, strong, excellent eyesight under low light conditions, enhanced smell and hearing, capable of mimicry, able to endure hot and cold environments. Above all, they were to be loyal. So, they used the domestic cat to keep their soldiers domesticated enough to keep them under their thumb.

Nikto was among the first used. He was the first successful prototype. He was perfect! He was loved for his skills as a soldier, and he was loved as being an affectionate domesticated cat. Nikto was adored.

Unfortunately, KorTac had funding cuts and all the perfect soldiers they made had two choices: be let free, or be euthanized. The head of the lab was a soft-hearted man, and he insisted that the cats were to be set free. When the order went through that the cats were to be euthanized regardless, he panicked and smuggled the cats out to a city where he let them free. He begged them to forgive him as he let them go.

The cats all gathered together to face the harshness of city life. Not all of them made it, but most managed. They were homeless cats, homeless humans. They were lost and scared, but they persevered.

Eventually, some of the cats started to get adopted. Nikto watched as his brothers and sisters in arms managed to find places to stay and hide in their cat forms. He saw how wonderfully things worked out for them. Surely, he could find a happy home too, right?

So Nikto let himself be adopted by someone. He was picked up by a teenager with his friend and brought back to a shed. There, Nikto was forced to endure the worst of human behaviour.

The teens learned of a way to make money online. A strange way, but an easy way. It made good money, so they heard. It was easy, as long as you could do it.

Nikto was tortured for hours and hours in that shed. Being a stray for so long, he was too hungry and weak to be able to shift and defend himself. Instead, he was forced to endure horrors I hate to repeat.

When the teens figured that Nikto was dead, they put him in a can and kicked it over into a puddle of some leftover household acid, remains of what they'd used on him previous. Too weak to move, Nikto accepted his fate and closed his eyes.

He was woken up later by an animal trying to nibble at him. Parts of his body fell off as he heaved himself out of the puddle. He felt himself shake, he thought this was the end. But, he needed to warn the others. He couldn't let them suffer a fate like this.

Nikto hauled himself through the streets. He pushed through back alleys to get back to the city, and back to where his squad mates lived. When he arrived back, they did their best to care for him, but they didn't think Nikto would make it through the night.

But he did.

Nikto lived the next day, and then the next day, then the next and then the next day. Every day he lived was a miracle. Hutch, Roze and Askel poured their heart and souls into Nikto, and too their amazement, Nikto began to recover.

His skin started to grow back, his eyes fluttered open. His breathign relaxed, he started to talk.

And talk he did! He told them all about the humans. He warned them all. He made them all swear to protect themselves, to never let themselves fall into the wrong hands again. He made them swear to be strong, to always be healthy enough to shift into human forms. They promised, and they followed his word.

To this day, Nikto feels his heart drop when he hears someone has been adopted. He's made an initiative where each time one of their kin are adopted, another will follow them home to ensure they go to a safe home. They always make sure.

Nikto is still afraid of humans. It doesn't help that nobody really wants to adopt a cat like him... He's covered in scars now, scars that transfer to his human form. Despite how horrible he looks in his cat form, he'll stay in that form to avoid showing his human face. He's never forgotten the fear he felt when he saw his own eye staring back at him from within a fleshy socket, surrounded by redness and folds of scar tissue. He won't ever let anyone see his human face again, he swears by this.

Sometimes, someone will be foolish enough to ask Nikto if he'd consider trying to get adopted again. Nikto never says anything. He never has to. The way the whole room goes silent speaks volumes.

When he leaves them to stew in their own pity and misery, he'll think about what they said. He'll consider their words. A part of him wants to be adopted. He wants a warm, happy home. One like back at KorTac. He's been told KorTac was horrible, but when he was in the cage he had a roof over his head and three meals a day. He didn't go hungry, he didn't shiver at night. He was always safe.

Nikto, despite it all, still wants a home. Is he ready yet to find a human to trust? He doesn't know. He doesn't think he'll ever be ready, but he reminds himself that nobody is ever ready for change. It just happens. One day, a human will find him and love him for who he is, he holds onto that hope dearly.

Here's a quick ref of Nikto for you guys at home. Sadly, he can't really wear a mask in cat form, but at least he has a mask in human form. Still, despite how rough he looks, he still prefers living as a scarred cat than having to face his human form in the mirror again.

Oh, and as for the video? The one those teens made to make hundreds of thousands of dollars? The one that would make them filthy rich?

It made $97 USD.

[haru-dipthong]

Ep 11 of my Utena fansub is out (sorry for the wait!)

だめだめ。そんな味気ないお昼じゃ、つまんないでしょ？

No, no. Don't eat that, it's just packaged junk.

This line when literally translated is actually closer to “a tasteless lunch like that is boring, don’t you think?”. However, つまらない is more versatile than the English “boring”, and it can also kind of mean “not very good”. Plus, I can’t imagine a middle schooler like Wakaba saying “tasteless”. I tried rephrasing the whole line in a way that would make sense being spoken by a kid who’s trying hard to be an adult.

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基本はレトルトだけどフォルムが超プリティーでしょ？

It's mostly pre-made ingredients, but doesn't it look super pretty?

This line took me AGES to hear correctly. I had to write it down as I heard it to make out all the words, and even then I still had no idea what レトルト (retoruto) meant.

Crazy! I’ve used and seen these in Japanese grocery stores my whole life and never known they had a proper name.

-----

俺なら君をここから出さないな。永遠に。

If it were up to me, I’d keep you here… for eternity.

If it weren’t for the pause, I think I might have translated this line as “If it were up to me, I’d never let you out of here.” However, I think I like that I was forced to work around the pause, because it made me think about how I could end the sentence with “eternity” while still phrasing it in a natural way. The Japanese version of the line works as a complete sentence without the last word addition, which I kind of wanted to keep in the translation (cause then the ETERNITY has more of a gut punch), but I think I did the best I could given the constraints.

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そうだ。僕が姫宮を守らなければ。僕なら姫宮を普通の女の子に戻すことができるんだ。他のやつに渡すわけいけない。たとえ、僕の王子様であろうと。

That's it. I have to protect her. I'm the only one who can help her get back to normal. I won't let anyone else take her. Not even my own prince.

I think it’s important with these lines to start to show how Utena’s well-intentioned chivalry is warping into something that resembles the attitudes of the student council. Here Utena is showing that they can be possessive like Saionji, self-important like Miki, and ruthless like Juri.

I love this, and Akio’s round up of the duels in the next episode makes me think about it more - I think that Revolutionary Girl Utena is all about competing 世界観 (views of the world). I like the duels as a metaphor for philosophical debates. In this episode, the negative influences of the other duelists’ worldviews on Utena’s naive and righteous view of the world starts to really show. I think that the text intentionally shows this change right before Utena’s first loss to signify that this change is a weakening, a corruption, and that their previous worldview was “better” (for lack of a better word).

This is a bit of a tangent but I also think that the times when Utena is led down paths of heteronormativity and normative forms of gender are when they are shown to be weakest in-universe. This episode is a perfect example. Utena commits to two normative ideas - 1. being heteronormatively enamoured with Touga, and 2. the idea that Anthy, a feminine girl, can’t do anything herself and needs a masculine hand to help her and protect her.

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Thanks as always to @dontbe-lasanya for their editing!

Follow the blog if you'd like to keep updated with new releases! All previous episodes are here:

[cosmicjoke]

Levi never Glorified Violence and Never needed to be Taught a Lesson that Violence is Wrong:

Nothing makes me want to rip my hair out more than when I see clowns saying Levi was "blinded by revenge" over wanting to kill Zeke, that he was "too violent", and that's why he got blown up by the thunderspear.

It's such a deeply, fundamentally WRONG understanding of why Levi wanted to kill Zeke, and also, of why he ended up getting blown up. I've already spoken about the strategically sound reasoning behind Levi's actions, which you can read here, if you're interested: https://www.tumblr.com/cosmicjoke/746918499422781440?source=share But to summarize, Levi hooking Zeke to the thunderspear made perfect, logical sense within the context of Zeke's own actions and behavior up to that point. Zeke was someone who until then had engaged in tactics of deception and double-crosses, who had only killed others while at a safe distance and within the cocoon of his Titan form. Decidedly the actions and behavior of a coward. Levi had no, good cause to suspect Zeke would be willing to blow himself up to also take Levi out, and so his reasoning that the thunderspear would act as insurance against Zeke escaping while Levi was preoccupied with driving the cart back to the capital was a reasonable and logical conclusion for him to make. It wasn't a decision blinded by rage or an action taken in hast. Just like it was reasonable for Zeke to assume Levi would rather die than cut down his own comrades, because he knew of Levi's compassion. Both of them underestimated each other, and both of them paid for making assumptions about the other.

But further to the point, this whole idea that Levi was being "punished" for his violence is the stupidest shit I've ever seen. Because it basically posits that Levi glorified violence, and so needed to be "taught a lesson" that violence was wrong, when he's the one character in the story who NEVER did that. He never reveled in violence, he never tried to frame it as something good or desirable, or even tried to justify it. He always spoke about and treated violence for what it was, a means to an end and nothing more. He never tried to moralize it or excuse it. He was always completely objective about it.

Compare, for example, the matter of fact way Levi explains violence and killing to Armin and Jean, versus how Zeke frames his own actions of violence. Zeke calls his murder of people a "mercy". He frames it as a positive action which results in a positive, better outcome. He has a totally warped view of killing and violence because he tries to justify it and moralize it to himself and others. He tries to frame his violence as something which makes him a hero. Levi does no such thing. He tells Jean and Armin that he doesn't know if it's right or wrong to kill, only that if Armin hadn't killed that MP, they would all be dead, and that Armin can't go back to the person he was, because he's now taken human life. He isn't justifying it, or moralizing it, he isn't trying to spin it into something positive or good, or even into something bad or wrong. He's simply stating an objective truth and then telling the 104th that they need to make their own choice about what they believe is right and wrong in any, given situation.

Or compare the way Levi approaches torturing Sannes to how Hange does. Hange goes into that situation gung-ho at the idea of torturing Sannes, because she wants revenge on him for killing Pastor Nick. She thinks she'll enjoy torturing Sannes, and attempts to enjoy it by taking it to an extreme, only to realize she's getting no satisfaction at all from her cruelty. By comparison, Levi never does or even attempts to take pleasure in the act of torture. He approaches it as a means to an end, something he has to do in order to obtain the information they need to overthrow the current government. There's no justification in his mind, no excuse he tells himself to make himself feel better about it. He already knows it's horrible and ugly. He already understands perfectly the wretched reality of violence. Again, he's the ONLY character in the story who does, from start to finish. It's why Hange is so rattled and upset after torturing Sannes, because she thought it would be fun, only to learn it was anything but. Levi never thought it would be fun, he never expected it to be, never wanted it to be, and he never tried to convince himself that it was anything better than what it actually was. It's why we see his shocked expression when Hange engages in unnecessary cruelty by ripping one of Sannes' teeth out. He's always been the most objective character when it comes to violence. He's never labored under any belief that his violence made him a hero, and he never tried to glorify violence to anyone or told them they were heroes for killing.

It's also why Yelena says to him what she does, during the final arc, and the battle at the docks. Because she knows that he knows, better than anyone, the inherent violence of the human condition and the ugly reality of it. Yelena is trying to again push her fanatical belief in Zeke's antinatalist philosophy, by pointing out that people are always going to kill and be cruel to each other, and she makes the point to Levi specifically, because she knows Levi is the only one who'd already long ago understood and accepted that truth.

So this idea that Levi is this ultra-violent, revenge-obsessed lunatic that needs to be taught that "violence is bad" is fucking moronic, and I am SICK TO DEATH of seeing people perpetuate that bullshit take. I want to tell everyone who does to just shut the fuck up already, because they're actively damaging the perception people have of Levi's character every time they spew that garbage.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

I'm going to write a yandere x oc fanfic. So it's a bit of a slowburn where they start off as friends. What i'm focusing on rn is the fact that while they're friends, my oc never 'felt' like she cared for him, or at least formed an emotional connection. She lacks empathy and feels guilty for it, but she does her best to fulfill her role as a proper friend out of obligation. She only starts truly caring for him 2 years into the relationship after he communicated that he did care for her.

Sooo I think that she has an avoidant attachment style? So that's basically what I'm asking about, please. Or any idea what other labels you think might apply to her? (They're gonna be co-defendant asf)

Writing Notes: Avoidant Attachment Style

Some signs of an avoidant attachment style can include:

Avoidance of emotional/physical intimacy

Strong sense of independence

Uncomfortable when expressing feelings

Dismissive of others

Sending mixed signals

Hard time trusting

Commitment issues

Often spends more time alone than with others

An unrealistically positive picture of their attachment figures

A failure to build long-term relationships due to the inability to engage physically and emotionally on a deeper level

In a romantic relationship, avoidant individuals may:

Appear distant or emotionally detached

Often avoid deep emotional connections and intimacy

Emphasize boundaries

Use distancing strategies (emotional or physical)

Prioritize independence and self-reliance above emotional intimacy

Need to get away or "explodes" during a disagreement

Not make his/her intentions clear

Devalue their partner

Struggle to express their feelings or offer support to their significant other during times of distress

Suppress emotions and maintain distance in their relationship to avoid vulnerability and potential harm

This can lead to feelings of neglect or emotional abandonment on either side of the relationship.

While they might do well in maintaining boundaries and independence, their hesitance to engage emotionally can undermine the development of deeper relationships.

If your character finds themselves struggling to express their feelings or show physical affection, they may identify with an avoidant attachment style.

On Deciphering Attachment Style:

Determine whether s/he seeks intimacy and closeness.

Assess how preoccupied s/he is with the relationship and how sensitive s/he is to rejection.

Don’t rely on one “symptom,” look for various signs.

Assess his/her reaction to effective communication.

Listen and look for what he or she is not saying or doing.

Common Avoidant Thoughts, Emotions, and Reactions

THOUGHTS

All-or-nothing thinking: I knew s/he wasn’t right for me, this proves it!

Overgeneralizing: I knew I wasn’t made to be in a close relationship.

Malicious intent: S/he’s really out to annoy me, it’s so obvious…

Fantasizing about having sex with other people.

"S/he’s taking over my life, I can’t take it!"

"Now I have to do everything his/her way; the price is too high."

"I need to get out of here, I feel suffocated."

"If s/he was “the one” this kind of thing wouldn’t happen."

"When I was with (phantom X) this wouldn’t have happened."

"S/he just wants to tie me down, this isn’t true love."

"I’ll be better off on my own."

"Ugh, s/he’s so needy! It’s pathetic."

EMOTIONS

Withdrawn ⚜ Frustrated ⚜ Angry ⚜ Pressured ⚜ Distrustful

Unappreciated ⚜ Misunderstood ⚜ Resentful ⚜ Hostile

Aloof ⚜ Empty ⚜ Deceived ⚜ Tense ⚜ Hate-filled ⚜ Restless

Self-righteous ⚜ Contemptuous ⚜ Despairing ⚜ Scornful

ACTIONS

Act out ⚜ Get up and leave ⚜ Belittle their partner

Act hostile, look disdainful ⚜ Make critical remarks

Withdraw mentally or physically ⚜ Minimize physical contact

Keep emotional sharing to a minimum

Stop listening to partner. Ignoring him/her.

POSSIBLE CAUSES

Primary caregivers were emotionally distant or dismissive of the person's needs in childhood. An avoidant individual often then learns to cope by suppressing their emotions and developing self-sufficiency.

Initially it was assumed that adult attachment styles were primarily a product of our upbringing. Thus, it was hypothesized that our current attachment style is determined by the way in which we were cared for as a baby (e.g., if parents/caregivers were distant, rigid, and unresponsive, the child should develop an avoidant attachment style).

Today, however, we know that attachment styles in adulthood are influenced by a variety of factors, one of which is the way our parents cared for us, but other factors also come into play, including our genes and life experiences.

Here are a few tips you can incorporate in your character's storyline to potentially change this style of attachment:

They start with communication (open communication is the foundation of a strong relationship)

Establish boundaries with their partner

Write down their own emotions and feelings throughout the day

Approach their relationship as a team and work together

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: On Attachment ⚜ Writing References

From what you described, avoidant attachment sounds about right. But as the writer, you know more about the character, like their backstory. Do you think they fit this attachment style? A good reminder when we use these psychological models: Attachment theorists assume that the relationship between early experiences and subsequent outcomes is probabilistic, NOT deterministic. Use these notes as one reference/guide as you develop your characters. Hope this helps with your writing!

[astr-venus]

｡⁠☆ Who Is This Diva✦

｡⁠☆Content: Izuku Midoriya BF headcanons

｡⁠☆Cw: a few uses of she/her, one singular pregnancy mention, no use of y/n, light cursing

✦ Always writing in that damn notebook, there is nothing you can say or do that won't end up there

✦ If you're creeped out by it, he will commit what you said to memory and write it down later

✦ The best gift giver. He notices everything about you. From your face to your body to your brain. All of his gifts are thoughtful

✦ Didn't know how to do his own hair until Mina showed him, however if you know how to do it he'll play dumb

"My hair... ? Y-Yeah, Mina normally helps me with it, b-but I seen you take care of your own so... Do you mind helping me instead ? Not that Mina isn't great, b-but she isn't you... Sorry, is that a weird thing to say ?"

✦ Sometimes YOU are the third wheel when Katsuki's around. Good luck with that.

✦ Nervous forever. Constantly apologizing. Trips over everything when you're around. His face is always bright red. Nervous talker for sure. Heaven forbid you compliment him, he might pass out on the spot

✦ He stays on Uraraka's phone. He needs advice before he does anything, especially if you're a girl. He used to take advice from Kaminari, and then he learned his lesson (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

"I-It's not sexist to assume she likes flowers just cause she's a girl right ?.... What ?! Of course I know that not all girls like flowers !! .... N-No way I can't just ask her. What if she thinks I'm weird" (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

✦ Doodles you everywhere. Aizawa is fed up with the scribbled pictures of you in all the corners of his homework. He's debating whether or not he should take point off his papers just to get him to stop. Mic and All Might think it's cute

✦ All this to say he is the sweetest ever. He makes sure to know every single thing about you, it borders on obsession. He follows you around like a lost puppy. His receiving love language is physical touch/quality time, and his giving love language is gift giving and acts of service

✦ Izuku is selfless to a fault, but when it comes to you he can't help but be selfish. No matter how much he gives to you, he feels justified because your love, affection, time, and attention, is the ultimate prize.

☆ PROHERO ☆

✦ Interviewers are tired of hearing about you. Any questions lead right back to what you're doing, something you've said, what you think, what you look like. It doesn't matter as long as it's about you

✦ Puts your needs first which can be really nice, but definitely neglects himself in the process. Like this man has chronic pain in his hands, but will stay up until ungodly hours giving himself carpal tunnel making something that you didn't even ask for just bc he knew you'd like it

✦ If you're not a prohero (hell, even if you are), Izuku is overprotective. His worst fear is you being taken from him in any sense of the word. Losing you isn't something he would ever get over

✦ Rarely ever yells, but when he does he sounds just like Katsuki. It's annoying how much like Katsuki he sounds. Otherwise though, he prefers to concede to whatever you want, the only time serious arguments occur is if it's about something like your safety

"Shouto, I'm gonna throw myself off a cliff... No she's not hurt she's perfectly fine don't even joke about that !!! .... The problem ? Shou she's so mad at me.... Don't look at me like that, I'm serious !"

✦ A sass monster. Rarely ever to your face, most of the time it's just a mutter under his breath that you barely catch but you just know he said something smart.

✦ If your first language isn't Japanese then trust and believe he's learning whatever your native tongue is. He has the cutest accent too. If he's feeling bold he'll use your lessons as an excuse to flirt with you, and after that there's a high chance you won't get anything done

✦ NOT a morning person. Clings to you and the bed like his life depends on it. Moaning and groaning in your ears about how mean you are to him, how could you make him get up for early morning patrol ? Death for 10 thousand years have been cursed upon him.

"Hmm ? I don' care 'bour the alarm. Turn it off... Where you goin' ? Noooo don' go shh i's okay, mhmm it snoozes itself. Jus' lay back down, yeah 'xactly baby.... Hmm ? Late ? Patrol ? OHMYGOD PATROL !!"

✦ Pet name extraordinaire. It takes a while until he finds his favorite, so he spends his time cycling through all types of sweet names. Anything from baby to darling to pookiebear to beautiful. He probably doesn't stray too far into weird names, but he dips his toes in if it feels right.

✦ Won't admit it, but he loves it when you flaunt him to your friends. Makes him feel like a big strong man, especially when you feel up his arms. His face flushes bright red and he tries to wave it off but he stutters so much that his sentence is barely distinguishable, but of course that only makes you want to do it more

✦ When you get married it's honestly been inevitable, especially if you met while in highschool. If it was only up to Izuku you would've been married within the month, but lucky for you he has self restraint. If you both want kids they truly won't be far behind marriage, and if you thought he was obsessive before just imagine if you get pregnant.

First post,, how exciting !! Not sure if I'm sticking with this format, but I think I like it. My blog is almost completely set up and I have a few reblogs so... My askbox is open if you so please (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Who f/w black Izuku like I do ?? 🗣️🗣️

｡⁠☆Requests open

[sporadicmoontimemachine]

Buddie realization earlier than expected? (Theory: looong)

Ok so what led me on this train of thought was bc I’ve been thinking about is the beginning of season 7 when Eddie is talking with Buck about Chris being a player. Eddie says “I don’t know where he gets it from, I married the first girl that I dated”. Fast forward to season 8 and bummy breakup and Turkish delight telling Buck that he’s his first and won’t be his last blah blah. Now let’s go to how Buck was ofc as usual ready to move in with Travel Agent and be serious. We’ve seen Buck from season 4 onward pushing to settle down and it was assumed that was bc of the Abby closure at the end of season 3 BUT…what if it’s not? What if it’s really a nod to Bucks need to be close to Eddie and in this sense I mean more mentally and theoretically.

Although Buck has seen Eddies relationships fall apart multiple times he has always tried to be like Eddie and establish “security” in a partner and eventually a family- something that he found in Eddie and Chris- but also really hasn’t bc Eddie has continually given up that spot that Buck unofficially holds as part of the Diaz family for years. However throughout the time Buck has known Eddie , the spot as Eddies best friend has been secured by him…until Trumpet. Once he was introduced Buck panicked(the first spot in Eddies life was already taken by Marisol and now there was competition for the other) so he did what he could to right the situation-remove Tourniquet from Eddies life himself. Buck found a willing substitute for Eddie while also ensuring that he would be Eddies secured first(bestie slash “platonic” life partner).

Back to the Eddie marrying his first and Torpedo saying that they can’t last BECAUSE he’s his first. I think at some point this is going to be brought up or referenced to, especially with the stills showing a depressed Buck. I think he has mentally seen Trombone being his first as something that relates to the validity of his relationship with Eddie. With him trying to emulate and fill the gap that not holding that “true” top spot in Eddies life and provide reason for why he should be okay being only Eddies bestfriend. Buck will at some point think well you married your first and overall it worked out great right(despite the divorce and her dying…)? You have your kid you got to experience the love etc. This is why despite multiple little(and not so little) references to Triste not being the one for him( the Evan Thing, “You wanted MY attention”, he’s good for you - how do you know that?, I gave you basketball tickets for our anniversary when you don’t like basketball, Do you love him?…, I led on the woman that changed your outlook on relationships and completely broke her heart), he still proceeds to ask Tommy to move in with him.

So then comes the question Why Buck? Why are you so heartbroken over this when you know deep down Trashcan was right? Because the whole thing was a product of his fear that he wont be important in eddies life forever. And from the articles Eddie is supposed to have a unique reaction to the breakup which I think is he is going to be completely care free about it in a “What can you do way”. This again will bring up Why do you care this much? Everyone else is moving on, you weren’t even this bad with Abby. I can totally see Buck having a meltdown about it. Another unique thing that hasn’t really happened before- Eddie is relatively free of emotional and mental weight atm while Buck is the complete opposite. Either both have been down bad or Buck was the free one and Eddie needed him. If Eddie reacts how I think in addition to everything else, this will be when Buck realizes what he truly wants from Eddie. Buck has always been there for him when the roles were reversed so Eddie not making it a priority will probably cause a I’m always there for him? Why is that and why am I so angry that he’s not as devastated as I am that our-I mean- me and Trampoline’s relationship didn’t work. This is all going to lead to Buck ending this episode or next episode with the realization that he has real romantic feelings for Eddie. BUTT I might just be way off and Eddie gets really protective and threatens Turnips life for not seeing how great Buck is and then asks Buck to marry him instead🙂.

Also this is probably hard to follow but it makes more sense in my head promise

[simpforpeterp]

stanford pines x reader

I Believe in a Thing Called Love

summary: on the road trip to bring the kids back to california, you have to keep ford awake!

warnings: none!

word count: 749

After deciding to drive the kids back to California this year for a road trip, Ford was unlucky enough to be picked to drive overnight. Stan, Mabel, and Dipper are asleep in the backseat despite the music you were blaring to keep you awake so you can keep Ford awake.

After all, if you had fallen asleep in the passenger seat, it’d only make Ford more tired. So, you’re night driving buddies. He has a lot of catching up to do music-wise so you’ve been playing your favorite songs going up from each year.

He, to be honest, doesn’t give a shit about the music. He’s not a music person, it takes up too much time and can be distracting. He especially hates when songs are over three minutes because he thinks the singers are being selfish by taking so many minutes of his life.

But watching you while it plays? Singing and having such a great time? His heart could explode any minute now. This thing between you two hasn’t been spoken about yet. It’s only been stolen glances and a silent yearning. Neither of you believe that the other would be interested because of the slight age difference.

Nonetheless, you can flirt with him in very small ways through the songs you play.

“Can't explain all the feelings that you're making me feel. My heart's in overdrive and you're behind the steering wheel,” You place a hand on his arm that gets a smile out of him before you jokingly snake it up to his shoulder. “Touching you, touching me

Touching you, God, you're touching me.”

You sit up straighter for the chorus so happily and in shock that the people asleep in the back are still asleep.

“I believe in a thing called love. Just listen to the rhythm of my heart. There's a chance we could make it now. We'll be rocking 'til the sun goes down. I believe in a thing called love, hoo, ooh-hoo.” You tap along the windows as you sing, the wind moving your hair perfectly.

“He’s not singing, he’s yelling.” Ford tells you through laughter, speaking over the music.

“You totally suck. You’re no fun.” You laugh with him as he slightly turns the volume down.

“You totally suck.” He jokingly mocks your voice and then realizes what just happened. He just acted childish for the first time in decades.

“And what do you listen to?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not THAT boring.” You laugh and the sound is music to his ears as you slightly turn your body to face him even more. He desperately tries to keep his eyes on the road but it’s so hard when it comes to you.

“You really don’t listen to anything?” You ask, glancing over at him, curiosity in your eyes and he shrugs, trying to play it off.

“I…never made much time for it,” He admits, his voice soft. “Always had too much on my mind. Music felt like…well, like a distraction.”

“You’re allowed to be distracted every now and then, you know. Life isn’t just about… equations and discoveries and whatever else goes on in that brain of yours,” You shake your head, amused. “I’m distracted ninety percent of the time. Music is rarely the cause. It actually helps me focus sometimes. It drowns out the noises that drive me crazy like if I’m in a library, it feels like my senses are amplified. I hate hearing every push in and out of everyone’s chairs and pens writing, I need my headphones.”

“Maybe so. But I don’t think I’d ever be good at it the way you are.” He hums.

“Good at music?” You laugh, incredulous. “Ford, it’s not about being good at it. It’s about feeling it.”

Ford watches you, captivated. The way you let yourself be so free, so uninhibited—it’s something he envies, a part of life he’s never quite understood but longs to experience.

“I’m not the type of guy to ‘feel’ the sound of a bunch of different instruments.” He chuckles.

“Maybe you’re just lame then.” You gently nudge him.

“Lame? How many degrees do I need to get to not be lame?” He asks.

“Negative ten. You need to loosen up.” You tell him.

“And how do I do that?”

“I don’t know. Listen to some music.” You tell him with a small smile pulling at your lips as you lean on the window and look away.