#i need to go back to physical therapy this is becoming unbearable it hurts so bad

[the-acid-pear]

Insanity moodboard

[hyog-blog]

Fangs of Fortune (ep. 33 - ep. 34)

Okay, I might need therapy after this show now, but oh boy, did they end on a hopeful note (I mean that sweet special episode that made EVERYTHING better). I almost don't want to recount the torment that was the last few episodes, but it was pretty. And all of them are incredibly beautiful sufferers D:

Li Lun had a spectacular, albeit short, redemption arc, sacrificing himself both for Zhuo Yichen and, most importantly, Zhao Yuanzhou. LL and ZYZ are especially tragic if you come to think of it. They've both lived 30,000+ years, can you imagine the amount of cycles their relationship went through? They could have been enemies just out of boredom, and then lovers again, and then friends, and then whatever. They both don't pose as very sociable beings, so I imagine having each other in their lives was pretty important. Thus, losing the other one was pretty much unbearable. It's akin to losing a part of yourself, of your body and soul (once again, the TORMENT of Li Lun dying and what ZYZ was going through was palpable).

"I can't stand seeing him so useless."

And that moment when Zhao Yuanzhou needed to kill the phoenix but he couldn't utter the goddamn spell because Zhuo Yichen was in there, too, and he could have been killed. Gosh, give that old demon a break, hasn't he suffered enough already? (Mr.Guo says: nope, not nearly). But that handshake was hotter than a kiss, I swear :)

That moment when Zhao Yuanzhou was going to his death, leaving Wen Xiao behind and breaking A LOT at the passageway, realizing he wouldn't be able to keep any of his promises - to her and to him, that was almost worse than the death itself. Hou Minghao played it so well it physically hurt to see him like that.

Don't get me even started about Bai Jiu and how he held onto Zhuo Yichen's hair bells for strength and courage D: In the end, he was the one who saved everyone. A baby boy who was scared of everything.

And what a day it was for Wen Xiao to lose both her stepfather and her loved one. Zhao Yuanzhou did sacrifice him for her (otherwise she would have done it as a goddess for all those people), but a small evil voice in my head (probably Li Lun's XD) whispered that it's just one city, how many ppl could the Chongwu Camp have infected? Screw the city, save Zhao Yuanzhou XD Well, I'm obviously biased, so, yeah. One Great Demon saved the day, finally realizing his deathwish, which was no longer there.

Zhao Yuanzhou and Zhuo Yichen during the killing - it was just pure heartbreak. ZY manned up (if it's even applicable here) and did the deed himself, not waiting for ZYZ to go full-on Ying Long on him. Instant depression for the whole Demon Hunting Bureau, whoever was left there still. But kudos to our boy for saving a part of Zhao Yuanzhou's soul - just like Bing Yi did. And not only that, he went looking for it. I have no idea what you could do with a particle like that (can you grow him back? I'd like to think so, although Ying Long was kinda stuck and didn't seem too happy, hmm).

Also, the last person Zhao Yuanzhou saw was Zhuo Yichen D;

But still, that ending in the special was hopeful. Instantly made everything somehow less dreary and lonely. Zhuo Yichen's character growth was IMMENSE. Our boy went from hating demons who killed his family, then getting to know so many of them, and one especially well, and even to becoming one himself. And in the end, he refused to give up on Zhao Yuanzhou, saying he'd be guilty for the rest of his life if he didn't find him. Well, maybe that, but also because of their love, which was HUGE.

I like how the show explored different types of love - friendly, sisterly, brotherly, m/m, f/f, and everything in between. Unrequited love, platonic love, the whatever love - it's all been there. Pei Sijing's face said a lot when Wen Xiao told them she was also leaving - to stay in the Wilderness. It's not-really-funny how without Zhao Yuanzhou their whole team broke apart (well, some died, but each of them went their separate ways). I kind of hopefully imagine that if he came back, he'd probably want to spend a small eternity with Zhuo Yichen or Wen Xiao (or more likely both) and that could be a whole new adventure for them.

I sacrificed my night's sleep for this, no regrets whatsoever XD Not nearly enough kittens in the world to heal after this, though. But the show is so-so good.

[zerokrox-blog]

💚 steddie 🥰

Thank you lovely!!!

💚 true love's kiss / magic kiss / healed

Eddie was exhausted. He had never felt more tired in his life. He had spent his morning doing physical therapy to help relearn how to move his body post-spring break from hell. Wayne had tried to get him lunch but Eddie refused. The pain was unbearable. He also missed his friends and his boyfriend in specific. Steve and he had been dating since 1985 and it showed in the care they showed each other. But Steve had been helping the Mayfield's because Max and Sue had been struggling. He had moved into their trailer to help out. But while they were now neighbors, Eddie rarely saw him.

He missed Steve like crazy. It felt even worse when he was in pain. He desperately wanted to see Steve, just a glimpse would be fine. He allowed Wayne to help him get into his room and onto his bed but then he let himself curl into a tight ball, feeling the frustration and tears fill his eyes. When had he become such a little baby? It was fine, Steve still loved him and it would be ok. He'd see him soon. He was sure of that, he could always go to the Mayfield's trailer.

Wayne watched his son in all but name cry himself to sleep and felt his heart break. He slipped out of the room and called the Mayfield's, hoping Steve was there. He'd hate for Eddie to be hurting all alone when he could help.

An hour later, Eddie woke up. He was wrapped in something cozily warm, and there was a steady heartbeat in his ear. He cuddled in deeper, curling into the warmth..

Wait WARM???

Eddie jolted awake, his bed had been empty when he had gone to sleep. So who was in his bed?

He looked down and his heart beat slowed. His Steve was staring up at him, expression warm and soft.

"Hi Eds. I didn't mean to wake you. But I missed you." his voice was low and warm.

Eddie's breath caught in his throat and tears started to spill down his cheeks, "hi I missed you too. I wasn't expecting to see you."

Steve gave him a devastating smile, "baby if you missed all you needed to do was call me. I will always come when you call."

Eddie buried himself into Steve's arms and buried his face into Steve's shoulder. Steve cupped the back of his neck and called his name softly.

Eddie lifted his face and looked at him. Steve pressed a kiss to his lips, and everything, the pain, the exhaustion went away.

Steve was here. He was all right, his sunshine was here, holding him.

Heart asks

[bodywyrcs]

You cannot hate yourself into becoming a better version of you❤️

I've been going back and forth with how to start this blog today, and straight to the point seems the best way.

Its a conversation that has cropped up in both my counselling and sports therapy clinics recently. I often see people who hate how they feel, how they look or simply who they are; who call themselves all the names under the sun but wouldn't think twice about using that language on their nearest and dearest; and who tear themselves apart in front of me for the shame of expecting someone else to care about them. They overflow with compassion for everyone else, but run dry when it comes to themselves.

Change seems impossible. But carrying on without change is unbearable. So what do we do?

Unfortunately, I think we've been convinced somewhere along the line that for our self-esteem to improve we need external approval. By sacrificing our own needs for those of everyone around us we might become likeable? Perhaps if we lose a shed-load of weight, run a gnarly ultra-marathon, or win a big promotion in work people might think better of us? And maybe *THEN* - once we've truly proven our worth to everyone - we might be happy! But in my eyes, that's all upside down and back to front.

You see the problem is, self-loathing is never satisfied. In my late 20s I lost a lot of weight, I got a LOT of compliments and it powered me up. But I didn't *like* myself. I was starving myself and then using exercise to make up for when I was 'bad' - to the point I used up all my iron stores and became quite unwell (and OHMYGOD I was a diet bore! Sorry friends, you were very patient!). But the nice comments kept coming, so it fed my belief that I was doing the right thing.

Of course, being fuelled by other peoples perceptions isn't sustainable, because once you've achieved one thing, what next? How will you impress everyone again and continually prove your worth? It never ends. And the need for external praise and positive judgement means when it goes in the opposite direction it feels SO MUCH WORSE. Which is exactly what happened when a relationship at the time went bad and I piled the weight back on. A new sort of punishment! And so the cycle continued!

And that's a loooong way of saying, you are not a before or after photo. You are the one and only version of you. Right now. And learning to love, or just like and simply appreciate that person is the most important thing you can spend your energy on.

Because -and this is the bit I stake my whole being on - positive and sustainable change can only come from a place of true self-care and the absolute *BELIEF* that you are worth the effort. If you go to the gym to hurt or punish yourself, how long is that going to last? How long until the motivation disappears in a puff of smoke? But if you go to the gym because you value yourself; because you want to improve your strength; because you enjoy the feeling of using your muscles and pushing yourself towards new goals...then there's your incentive, no doubt! Self-care should never minimise who you are, and the people worth keeping around will never expect you to squash yourself into a smaller box to keep them happy.

The thing is, learning to value ourselves is HARD, especially if the negative inner-voice is well practised and LOUD. But if we don't learn to value ourselves and (heaven forbid) LOVE ourselves, why would we ever invest time and energy into looking after ourselves properly? And I'm not just talking about physical health, I'm thinking about boundaries, rest, creativity, and all the fun stuff inbetween. If we don't respect and understand ourselves, how do we know what we truly *need* or what we actually *enjoy* doing in the first place?

This last month I've LOVED seeing the talk on the Paralympics and the Olympics about self-care. These highly driven, outcome-focused individuals talking openly about taking time out to improve self-esteem and understand their mental health has been AMAZING.

But you don't need to be an elite athlete to be worthy of self-care and love. You simply need to exist, as you are - and maybe do a little bit of work to challenge those negative thoughts and get to know yourself better. There is no "correct" way to do it, its all trial and error and exploring what works for you. I started (years ago) by doing a guided meditation every day off YouTube for 10 minutes to calm my head down and understand what I actually needed - there are LOADS out there and they are FREE! Writing down those negative thoughts can help to get them out of your head - then go back later and challenge each one as if you're defending your closest, oldest friend. Come up with a morning mantra and tell yourself it in the mirror everyday. Book in a regular treat to show yourself that you care. Maybe consider some counselling to get you started if you feel you need guidance. It might not be comfortable to begin with, but small, regular and achievable action is the way to go. You can change the way your brain is wired, but it takes time - and that is most definitely something worth investing in.

[sorryforbeingcrazy]

Buffy and Spike deserved more...talking.

I´ve been marinating this in my brain for a couple of days, so here I go.

I really liked the relationship between Buffy and Spike. And I´m not only focusing on the “romance” part, but in general. I loved their transition from enemies to allies to....friends? I just enjoyed how when it came to serious threats, they always looked  and relied on one another for help.

That´s why one of the things that disappointed me the most about the last season was the fact that they never really talked about how wrong they did to each other on season 6.

Season 6 is a very very dark season, for all of the characters: Willow´s addiction to magic and the effects it has on Tara, Xander´s fears that end up leaving Anya on the altar, Giles feeling that he is useless...But who really takes the trophy home in this one, is Buffy. I don´t even know how to start.

From the moment she is brought back to life, she suffers. We were expecting her comeback to be a happy moment, filled with tears of joy, laughter and hugs. Instead, she wakes up in her grave, has to dig herself out and then she walks around a Sunnydale on fire and full of demons. Can you imagine the shock? Only the crawling up from the grave should be enough to send someone to therapy for the rest of their lives. The mere thought of waking up in a coffin, six-feet undergroundnd makes me anxious...But let´s keep going.

She is back. She is traumatized and shocked beyond belief and at home with Dawn (after reliving everything that happened before she died). She is quiet, trying to process everything while Dawn is constantly talking to her about how things are and asking if she is ok. Her hands still wrecked from the diggin. And suddenly, she is face to face with Spike. (This is a sidenote related to the actors. I cannot give enough credit to James Marsters portrayal of Spike in general. But in this scene...man, 12/10, flawless). He looks at her in disbelief. And despite the fact that he was happier than ever that she was alive again, he does not try to touch her or approach her, and the moment he sees her hands he acknowledges what she has been through. So he just tell her that they are going to take care of her, and sends Dawn away to fetch stuff to clean her wounds. And they are alone in the living room. He does not overwhelm her with questions or hugs or anything. He just stares at her, giving her time to put her thoughts in order.

It may look like a trivial scene but I´m not kidding when I tell you that, for me, this is the most important scene of the whole season. And it is because it defines how the dynamic between Buffy and Spike, and Buffy and her friends is going to be.

When Spike is holding her wounded hands, letting her ask questions, just staring at each other, there´s silence. Peace. Calm. It´s the first moment since she is back that she is at ease. But the moment her friends burst through the door, is chaos. Noise, questions, worry, light, people...And this is why this scene is so important. During the rest of the season, the reason why Buffy goes away looking for Spike is because she wants that peace and quiet. She wants the calmness she gets around him, when she does not have to worry about being fine and happy in front of her friends. She can take her mask off when she is in front of Spike. That´s why she tells him that she was in a good place. That´s why he turns into her confident.

And for sometime, it works. Whenever she feels like she can´t take it anymore she goes to spend sometime with Spike. The problem is that her life gets harder and harder: financial problems, Giles leaves, Willow´s addiction, her relationship with Dawn. Her struggle becomes unbearable to the point were Spike is the only safe constant in her life. The only person she can rely on. And of course, mixing this with Spike´s feelings and their “tension”, their relationship turns physical. Very physical. And here is when Buffy starts using, quite wrongly, Spike.

The first time could be a slip, but not the rest. She may not have been aware at the beginning, but deep inside she knew what she was doing. She knew that Spike had strong feelings for her. She knew that he would never deny her and even if he did (that he actually does a couple of times) he wouldn´t last long. So she takes advantage of him and his feelings.

Someone, blind as a fucking bat, could say “Spike wasn´t minding it. He was enjoying the sex with Buffy. It´s what he wanted.” Fuck, no. He spents the whole season wanting to talk to her about their relationship. To discuss what is going on between them. If you are in it just for the sex, you don´t care to ask questions. You just don´t care. You just take what you came for and then you leave. The way Buffy does. And this bothers him. It bothers him that the moment they are finished she runs away. It hurts him. More than once he calls her out by the fact that whenever they are not “in bed”, she is constantly yelling at him and insulting him and his feelings, and yet, she always comes back to him.

Now, for those who think that Spike was fine with this I want you to imagine for a second, that you are in his shoes. As a human being, and not caring about genders. Imagine you loved someone, beyond reason (i´m not even going to throw in the fact that he saw her die even though i could). And because you care about this person, you spent time with them because they are in a bad place mentally. And that person enjoys your company. And starts spending more time with you. And one day, you kiss. Once. Twice. Then, you sleep together. Once. Twice. And god knows how many more times. You could think “If they like to spend time with me, tell me things they do not to their friends, kiss me and even sleep with me, they must feel something, right?” It´s a fair assumption. But instead, this person is constantly telling you how disgusted they feel with themselves for being with you physically, to the point were they keep what you have in absolute secret from their friends, and they run from you everytime you sleep together.

Fucking. Imagine.

Evil or not. Souless or not. That fucks you up my friends.

What leads us to the horrifying events of Seeing Red. You won´t see me coming any close to justify what Spike tries to do to Buffy. There´s no excuse in the world that clears you from that one. But I do see where it comes from. And it´s not just because Spike is evil. That´s a lame excuse of an argument. That scene, is the representation of Spike hitting rock bottom. He wants what he had with Buffy back. Even if it was only physical, it was at least something. And so, he is desperate...and well....we all know what happens. I swear to you, that scene creeped me out so fucking much.

That´s why it angers me how they did not approach these subjects on season 7. They both did terrible things to each other. They should have talked about it in depth. And even though I´m quite satisfied how they ended up acknowledging each other in ways any of the other characters do, I cannot hide my displeasure about that missing conversation. They needed more closure for what happened on season 6.

Good lord. This really turned out long.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[yeahimaloser]

Wingless

Hello! So this was the fic I've been working on, and I just wanted to quickly say this is an AU-based fic (Kinda).

WARNING MANGA SPOILERS

So I understand what's going on in the manga, but I started this fic when Keigo was injured. so I wrote a fic about how Keigo and you would deal with him losing both his wings and a part of himself.

this story contains manga spoilers, as well as warnings of mental and physical abuse (kind of), hurt to comfort, mentions of Depression, blood, someone gets glass stuck in their hand, and therapy.

no pronouns are given to the reader. Word count: 7k

. . .

You practically ran through the hospital, not listening to the nurses and doctors as they told you to slow your pace. Your mind only screamed out for him, screaming for him to be alive, for him to just be okay. You could hear your heart thumping hard against your chest, tears spilling down your cheeks.

As you ran near his room, a doctor finally managed to stop you.

“Please, calm down! He’s in this room but I can not allow you in if you act like this. You will only stress my patient out more, and we have just managed to sedate him.” the doctor held out his hands as he spoke, trying to calm you.

Although, it clearly wasn’t working. Your eyes only shone more with brimming tears, your hands shook as the doctor spoke.

After a few minutes of you catching your breath and calming yourself down, the doctor told you that you were able to see him.

You felt as if your whole body was on fire as you walked through the doors to his hospital room.

The window that overlooked the city gave an impressive view (if it wasn’t in a hospital, you probably would have stopped and looked down at the city below). The bathroom, you could see, was on your left. There was even a vanity and a television in the room as well.

But you really didn’t have time to look around, your eyes were already focused on the man that lay on the hospital bed.

Machines were hooked up to him, tubes ran out of his skin every witch way. He was flipped on his stomach to accommodate his wings or lack thereof. Bandages covered almost every area you could see, the blood on them was minimal, yet they looked new, meaning they had been changed.

You rushed to his side, stopping only when the line of his IV almost collide with your foot.

“Keigo,” you said it so lightly you were afraid only you could even hear it.

But Keigo’s eyes shot open, looking up at you, “...Y/N?”

God, his voice was a raspy mess, it sounded as though it wasn’t even his.

If you could, you would break down right then and there. Crying over him, telling him you were there for him, that you would always be there for him, no matter the hardships he was sure to overcome. You wanted desperately to hold him, to whisper love-filled words to him, to wipe away the pain you knew he was feeling.

But you didn’t, you couldn’t.

You knew you had to be strong for him in that moment, and for all the moments yet to come. You knew that what was going to happen to you two would not be easy.

So you couldn’t cry, no matter how much you wanted to.

You lightly stroked his cheek, “I’m here Kei, I’m right here. I won't leave you.”

Silent tears ran down his face as he spoke, his voice cracking, “I’m sorry.”

----

After what happened with Dabi Toya, the commission tried their best to cover everything up, telling the public that Dabi had to be wrong. But the public eye was persistent.

The truth was out, there was nothing you or Keigo could do to stop it. Everyone knew about his name, his father, and what he had done to Twice, as well as the fact that he had lost to Dabi. You knew it would be hard for him to come back to that.

The media had always been a bit ruthless when it came to Keigo, but now, it was up by tenfold. They talked about how they believed that Keigo was not worthy of his hero title. A false hero they called him.

And Keigo?

Luckily, he didn’t hear very much of it. You made sure of that. You wanted him to rest, to let what had happened wash over him little by little, and you knew if he heard what the news had been saying about him, that he might never recover.

When Keigo was a bit more stable, he still rarely talked.

His eyes didn’t shine like they used to, his face, once so uplifting and beautiful, was marred with a long scar that he had on his face.

But no matter what, you stayed with him, no matter what, you would be by his side.

But seeing Keigo like this? It was unbearable.

He would only eat if you were there to persuade him, he would only look at you if you practically begged him to.

You knew it was a selfish want, you knew it was, but you wanted your Keigo back. You wanted the man who held you in his arms, telling you he would fly to the moon and back if it meant you would give him your love. You wanted the man that stopped at nothing to protect others, you wanted the man that smiled when the going got tough, you wanted Keigo.

But you had to accept that this was Keigo.

And you wouldn’t leave him, you couldn’t. He was always there for you when you needed him most, and you weren’t going to do the same.

After what had happened with Keigo, the commission thought it would be best to send him away, let the media storm die down, letting him also take time to heal his wings.

You had to fight them in order to come as well. At first, they told you that Hawks should just be concerned with getting his wings back and becoming “hero ready”.

You should have known. You knew, of course, that the HPSC was corrupted, but you didn’t think they were heartless. Yet, you were proven wrong.

You wished they could understand, you wished everyone could understand. Keigo was so loving and kind, you just wished people would understand that about him. What Keigo had to do to Twice… you knew he didn’t want to kill him, Keigo wasn’t like that. He didn’t take pleaser in violence, all he wanted was to see others happy.

And it made your blood boil that the higher up’s couldn’t understand.

You told them how Keigo needed someone to be his caretaker, and you would be the best candidate. You knew he wouldn’t object, you told them that you would work for free, seeing as he and you had been dating, as well as living together for the last few years.

Finally, with a lot of persuading, they agreed.

They sent you and Keigo to a remote location near the shores of Japan, seeing as they wanted Keigo to not remember the effects of the fight, and thought the best course of action was to send him so far out that he would have nothing to remind him of, “The Incident”.

The house was a small little thing, a lot smaller than what you and Keigo were used to at least.

It was close to the ocean, giving it a more country feeling rather than the city vibe you and Keigo used to live in. The smell of the ocean hit you full force when you two arrived, the salty, yet homie smell was a nice difference to the fullness of the air of the city.

The home had a total of seven rooms, all on the same floor.

The master bedroom had enough space, it fit a bed, a vanity, and a closet as well as a connection to the master bathroom. The walls were painted a low white, you wouldn’t call it cream however that was the closest rendition. The floors were all wood, you could feel the sand beneath your feet, you had a feeling the stuff would get everywhere.

There were three bathrooms, a guest room, a living room, and a kitchen.

The whole house honestly just felt...nice.

The floors felt grainy against your feet, but it felt weirdly cozy, kind of like how a beach house should feel. The carpeting was a bit musty for your taste, you had a feeling that would be your first project to do with the house. The couch was a bit too firm, you expected that, but still, it just needed to be worn in. The kitchen wasn’t big, but for two people, it would do.

You spent the first week moving in, all by yourself.

Keigo would only stay in bed, looking out the window, in some far-off world he was in.

You wanted to cry when you would walk into the master bedroom and see him upright on the mattress, not doing or saying anything, just staring, a shell of the man you once knew.

It made your heart clench though, normally, Keigo would always be the first to lend a helping hand, that was just his nature, to want to help. But this, this was something that broke you even more.

-----

The first few weeks were rough.

Not hard, just rough.

The only way you could even describe Keigo was just numb.

His eyes were sunken, his hair a tattered mess. His face was droopy, the once perfect-looking man now sat alone in bed, looking as though he was almost near death.

And his scar.

It served as a perfect reminder of what had happened, a symbol of the pain Keigo had gone through. You knew what he felt when he saw it, you knew what he was probably thinking when he looked in the mirror to have the long stripe of red and pink looking back at him.

Yet, you pretended not to notice.

He would barely say anything to you, choosing instead, to be silent.

For the first few days, it was hard to get him out of bed, hard for him to even eat anything.

On most days you found yourself sitting alone when you ate, going on walks by yourself on the sandy beach, watching TV all alone.

You missed him, it was hard not to. But you knew that this was hardest on Keigo, so of course, you let him have all the time he needed. Letting him sulk and wallow in his self-pity, letting his feelings shroud him. You felt as though you had to, he had every right to feel this way.

But it was hard.

It was hard having Keigo sleep in the master bedroom while you slept all alone in the guest, it was hard to be so silent in the house, it was hard living with someone who was basically a ghost.

One day though, you found him crying.

You quickly ran over to him, scared that he had somehow hurt himself. But he didn’t, nothing had happened to him.

But he sat straight up in his bed, shaking like he was cold, his hands wrapped around something you couldn’t see.

“Keigo, honey?” you asked carefully as you stepped into the room, “Is everything ok hun?”

But it was like he couldn’t even hear you, whatever he was holding, it certainly had his attention.

You walked slowly over to him, reaching out to him, like he was a wounded animal, “Keigo? What is it?”

Finally, you managed to see what it was.

It was a picture of him, of him with his beautiful red wings, smiling at the camera in his hero outfit, with one hand giving a thumbs up and the other around your waist.

In comparison to the picture, you could barely tell it was Keigo anymore. With his sunken eyes and hollow cheekbones, the scar is a stripe of change.

“Keigo I-” you took a deep breath, what were you supposed to even say? How could you even console him? How could you help ease his pain?

You couldn’t.

So you just held him, held him in your arms, trying to hide your tears from him, so he wouldn’t see you hurting as well.

. . .

But one day, when you were sitting on the porch of your borrowed home, watching the waves hit the sandy beach below, watching the sun as it hit the horizon.

It was bitter-sweet, you were all alone, watching the beautiful sight without anyone to share it with.

You sighed, contemplating whether or not to go back inside, but then... Keigo came.

It startled you, you weren’t expecting him to come off his bed, much less to see you.

He sat down in the nice little chair that was right next to you.

He didn’t say anything for a good few moments, but then, all of a sudden he spoke.

“The ocean looks really pretty, I like...I like being here with you.”

You were shocked, to say the least. Keigo had barely acknowledged your presence during this time, he hadn’t spoken to you at all during these few weeks. So to hear him say that...

You damn near cried.

You had been holding in your anxiousness and, overall, depression of not having Keigo back to his regular self. It was hard, that much was certain, but still, he was going through such a difficult time, you had to be there for him.

You quickly brushed the tear that had feel from your eye, “I-I like being here with you too.”

----

After that, things were...different.

Keigo was a bit more clingy, although, maybe you should say protective.

You would go out on your walks and would come home to him being upset, asking where you were, and fussing about you going out.

“Well, what if something happened? Just stay here.”

You asked the doctors about that, they told you how some patients latched on to certain things or people after a traumatic event, most of the time clinging desperately to what they felt was the only thing they had left.

They told you his newfound desire to be near you could be a sign of him getting worse, or it could be a sign he was getting better.

The doctor told you it was much more likely that Keigo needed something to hang on to, a sort of attachment. And again, they told you Keigo needed to see a therapist, he had so much trauma after the battle that you probably wouldn’t be able to handle it.

You knew that you should listen and that you probably couldn’t deal with Keigo all on your own. But still, you wanted to move at Keigo's pace, and you knew he needed time.

. . .

The first night you and Keigo spent in the same bed after what had happened was...strange.

Although you two lived in the same little beach house for a month now, you two haven't slept next to one another, you weren’t sure Keigo was ready just yet.

And yet, he was the one who asked you.

It happened on a normal day, while you were making dinner when Keigo spoke.

“Hey...Y/N..” you turned back to him, giving him your full attention, “Could we….could we try sleeping together? I know...I know it’s been some time but-”

“Yes!” you hastily accepted, “I mean...only if you want to.”

And so, you found yourself curled up next to Keigo, feeling him cuddled up to you, which was nice of course, but his body felt stiff like it didn’t want to be close to you.

The whole experience was… different. Normally, Keigo would wrap his arms around you, holding you against him, holding you securely and tightly, like you knew he wouldn’t let you go.

But this, this was different, but you should have expected that by now. You should have known that, now, it was so unlikely that you would ever see the old version of Keigo again.

And then it was there again, that slap of guilt, that pang of hurt at your own thought. How could you think that? Keigo was hurting, and you were upset that he was in pain?

You bit your lip, quietly willing yourself not to cry.

------

Keigo’s mood swings would happen randomly, with no merit at all.

One moment, he was blindly looking at the TV, the next he would be offering to help with dinner, then the next he was screaming at you to add more pepper to the onions.

When his first outburst happened, you blamed yourself.

You had left Keigo for what only seemed like a moment, going outside to feel the air on your face, wanting to just get out of the stuffy little cottage.

You were just watching from the porch when you heard it.

The sound of glass shattering.

You whipped your head to the sound, to find it coming from inside.

You rushed inside, running towards the kitchen.

“Keigo!” you cried out.

You stopped at the doorway to the kitchen, looking down at Keigo on the floor.

A glass of some sort had broken in Keigo’s hand, from what you could tell. It seemed like he had gotten some of it stuck in his hand, blood dripped onto the floor, sticking to the hardwood floor.

Keigo just stared, his eyes the most lively you’ve seen them in weeks. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even acknowledge your presence, just staring at his hand, looking at the blood as it dripped...dripped...dripped.

And then, he screamed.

It was so loud and so unexpected you quickly covered your ears, trying to block out the head-splitting sound.

When you finally regained your composure, you rushed down to Keigo's side, trying your best to help him.

But Keigo shoved you away.

“No! Stop! Go away! I-I don’t wanna hurt anymore! Stop it, leave me alone!” he scooted away from you, holding out his palms, trying to make you leave.

But you wouldn’t.

Slowly, you spoke, “Keigo, I need to help you, ok? I’m not here to hurt you, baby, I’m Y/N, I love you.”

You inched closer and closer as Keigo hiccuped and sniffed.

“Stop it! Don’t c-come any closer!”

You stilled, only for a moment. Then, you moved forward again.

“Honey, I have to clean your wound, please baby.”

Keigo’s breath still raged, but he let you come closer.

Before you even looked at the wound on his hand, you gave him a light kiss on the cheek. Keigo was shocked, flinching a bit at first.

You carefully picked up his hand, observing it lightly. The glass pricked his hand, but the overall damage wasn’t all that bad, it might have been worse if you hadn’t rushed to him.

You took a deep breath, “Keigo, I’m gonna need to remove the glass-”

But Keigo cut you off, “No no no no no, please. Please, I don’t wanna get hurt again. Please.”

“Keigo,” you stroked your cheek lightly, “it’s ok, it’s me, it’s Y/N.”

You purse your lips, thinking for a moment, “Remember when I got that splinter from the hardwood at that crummy hot spring? And remember how you had to pull it out? And remember how scared I was?”

He thought for a moment as if the memory was buried deep inside him, a lifetime ago. He nodded, tears still running down his face.

“It’s gonna be like that, ok? Quick, and I’ll be right there with you, just like you were for me.”

After a moment, Keigo nodded.

You made quick work of the glass, helping Keigo through the little whimpers and hiccups he let out.

Keigo was never like this before, never fighting over glass in his hand, he was a hero, he dealt with pain daily. But this Keigo was beyond damaged. He was ripped in half, put through more pain than you would ever understand, the mental strain of that had to be so much, it had to weigh on him.

The thought only made your resolve stronger, only made your need to see Keigo get better that much more secure.

After you had bandaged his hand, kissing his knuckles and wrist softly in order to calm him down, you noticed how exhausted he was.

“Do you wanna go and take a nap, Kei?”

He nodded.

You walked him to the room, helping him to bed.

You planted a small kiss on his lips before moving away to leave.

But Keigo caught the fabric of your shirt, pulling on it lightly, “Wait.”

You turned back to face him, “Yeah. what's up Kei?”

“Um, could you...join me?”

Your body perked up. This was one of the first times he had seemed...needy for contact with you. Sure, he still slept next to you, but you figured that was mainly due to some comfortability. But the way Keigo was looking at you right now? His eyes softened with desperation, his body, while still heavy with drowsiness, had enough strength to pull you to him. He seemed to genuinely want you to stay.

You smiled, a real, genuine smile, “Of course I can Keigo.”

You slid into the spot next to him, and Keigo had his arms immediately around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His face nuzzled softly into your neck, his whole body trapping you in a needed embrace.

You played with his hair, giving yourself a mental note that you needed to wash it and brush it out later.

That's when you heard the sniffling in your neck.

“Kei,” you said gently, “what’s wrong?”

It took a few labored breaths for Keigo to respond, “I’m sorry.”

At first, you were confused. What did Keigo have to be sorry about? He had done nothing wrong to you, he hadn’t said anything bad to you, the most he had really done was worry you. But he continued.

“I’m sorry for being so weak, for letting myself get like this, it’s all my fault. And I’m sorry I’m a burden for you, I know how much you loved me, how much you loved being with a strong hero,” he took another shaky breath before continuing, “But I can't. I can’t do it anymore. It hurts so bad. And now, no one wants me. I’m a failure, they’re right,” Keigo squeezed you tighter as if you would leave him too, “I’m a false hero. I failed everyone, the commission, my friends, Tokoyami. And you,” he looked back up at you, “why are you even here? I’m useless now, why can’t you see that? Why won’t you just leave? It would be better for you.”

You hadn’t even realized you had been crying before you felt how shaky your voice was, “No. Keigo that’s not true, I love-”

But he cut you off, “No!” he bolted upright, “Stop it! Stop it Y/N! I’m not who you love, that Keigo is dead and gone, look at me! I’m a shell of who he was, I’m the failure he left behind! Christ Y/N, I fucking broke down because I had fucking glass in my hand!”

He cupped his ears, seemingly trying to block out some sort of noise that you couldn’t even hear. Rocking back and forth lightly, his bandaged hand squeezing hard on his left ear.

“Keigo stop it,” you tried to get his hand away, “you're going to hurt yourself!”

After fighting him for a moment, you finally got him to put his hands down. You pulled him to you, placing his head on your chest as you calmed him down.

“Kei,” you said after a long stretch of silence, “I love you, and I’m not leaving you.”

Keigo hiccuped, “B-but.”

You shushed him, “No but’s. I’m here to stay, it’ll be hard, I know that, but I can’t leave you.”

For the first time in God now’s how long, Keigo reached up and kissed you.

It wasn’t a light, small little peck either, it was a sloppy, desired-filled kiss. You were shocked at first, seeing as how he was yelling at you a second ago, but you let yourself indulge a bit. You craved Keigo, missed his lips, his strong, protective hands that run up your body, you just missed him really.

Your hand moved down to his chest, pulling him deeper. His hands grabbed onto your hips, pulling you more in.

His teeth clashed against yours, and maybe it was because you two haven't done this in so long, or it was because neither of you cared.

You couldn’t help but let out a small moan as Keigo pushed more against you, pushing you near the head of the bed.

After a few moments of the kiss, you pulled away.

“Please,” Keigo whispered lightly, “Please don’t leave me.”

------

After that, the situation with you and Keigo became so much more complicated.

Keigo would become so irritable, that you had to stand outside for hours just for him to calm down.

But the worst was when he acted so apologetic afterward, saying his, “I’m sorry”’s over and over again, sputtering about how he would, “do better.”

Of course, you felt like absolute shit, wanting to scream, to cry, to leave even. But you couldn’t. Keigo was in so much pain, you had to be strong now, you had to be there for him like he had been for you. You shoved down your tears, fighting the urge to scream and cry, waiting out your feelings.

Was it a bad coping mechanism? Yes. But you already felt so useless, you didn’t want to be a burden too.

For a while, you had hoped that he would help himself get better, you had hoped that he really was trying to get better and understand how to help himself more, but as time went on, you saw how naive you were.

You realized that Keigo was almost beyond repair, some days he would be silently upset, not talking or saying anything. While others you could hear it in his voice.

While some days you came into your shared room to see him curled up on the bed, crying and whimpering. And then there was you, unable to help, unable to tell him how, “it would be ok,” how, “I’m here for you, Kei.”

Because you knew he wouldn’t listen.

And yet, he would never yell at you, never scream or degrade you, he would only seem to be mad at...himself.

Yet, it was strange, because he seemed to grow more and more protective of you.

If you were to leave the house, he would become upset, saying how; “You could have gotten hurt, next time either take me with you or stay...please.”

It was strange how he always asked, how he never demanded.

But today, today was different.

You had noticed that Keigo was especially irritable, so you decided to just stay out of his way. Deciding to work on meal prep, because of Keigo’s accident the doctors told you to watch his meals carefully, making sure he eats a well-balanced meal each and every day.

Maybe Keigo would calm down, maybe today could still be ok, maybe you could salvage the day and make it a good one.

But that was before the broadcast.

. . .

You were outside that day, watching as the sun showned on the ocean.

You wished silently that Keigo could have enough strength to come out and see it with you. Yet, you didn’t push him.

Keigo, on the other hand, was watching some TV. Well, "watch" was a strong word. Keigo’s eyes were far off again, You never asked him what he was thinking about, but you knew it had to be something but what happened.

As you watch the waves crash against the shore, and the sun slowly sets, that's when it happened.

The broadcast.

At first, the broadcast was only just a news reporter talking about how; “us as a society must look forward, through these dark times.” Talking about the loss of certain Hero’s and civilians alike.

but the segment right after that, that's what sent Hawks into his spiral.

“And now, what has happened to the pro hero known as Hawks? And I posed a question to all of our viewers out there, should he be forgiven? Can a man who ruthlessly killed someone, even a villain, be considered a hero?”

You weren't there when the news reporter posed the question, you were only there for the aftermath.

At first, Keigo was in shock, and then, his outburst happened.

It was the worst outburst since the accident. He was screaming, yelling, hitting anything, he just needed some way to get his anger out.

When you heard the commotion, you immediately ran inside, worried that something may have hurt him. But as you went inside, you realized that there was nothing wrong, at least not from what you could see. But to Keigo, everything was wrong.

When you came in, all you could hear was yelling, “What was it all for?! I just...I just wanted to help!”

You were stunted into silence, only being able to watch from afar.

It was like you couldn’t move, your body glued down to the floor, unable to help Keigo.

And then, he hit the TV, hard.

And that's when you finally spoke.

“Keigo stop!”

You rushed forward, grabbing his arm from hitting the wall.

You latched on to him, “Keigo please, please honey just calm-”

But it was too late, and before you knew what was happening, Keigo had thrown you on the ground.

You landed on your hands, cushioning your fall, but that didn’t mean it hurt.

For a moment, everything was still, everything was silent. Keigo wasn’t yelling, he wasn't screaming, and when you looked back up, the only thing you saw was true horror and guilt.

You panted lightly, your eyes blown wide as you stared back up at Keigo.

“...Y/N-”

What was he to say?

He didn’t know.

“K-Keigo,” you were at a complete loss for words.

After a few more minutes, you stood back up. You took one, shaky breath, before you spoke.

“Keigo, I’m sorry. I-I...I can’t do this right now. It’s just… this is all too much for me right now. I think I need to clear my head.”

You moved past him, not even looking him in the eye. How could you? Your mind was a mess, a thousand thoughts jumbled through your brain.

You opened the door quickly, taking your car keys before you left, refusing to look back.

----

The ocean waves looked stunning in the sunlight, it might have been the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

At least, you would have if the tears in your eyes weren’t blocking out your vision.

And your head wouldn’t stop spinning. Was Keigo ok? Should you go back? Could you even go back? What would you even say to him?

No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that leaving Keigo behind was for the best, that you two just needed to be away from each other, you felt like your heart was being slowly stabbed through with needles, one for every second away.

You sniffed, wiping away your tears with the back of your palm.

There had to be a way Keigo could get better, some way you could help. But every thought eluded you, how could you help someone so far gone?

You thought back to the doctor's suggestion of getting a therapist, maybe it was time. Keigo was getting too out of hand for you, and as much as you loved him, you knew that this was hurting him as much as you.

A sigh escaped your lips, why did this have to be so difficult?

And that thought came to you again.

Why couldn’t he just be himself again?

You shivered at your own selfish, hurtful thoughts. Keigo was still him, he just needed help, and thinking about how much you wanted the old him back wasn’t going to help him or you. And it wasn’t fair either, to expect that after what happened he would just be fine.

You knew you would always be there for him, but you supposed you didn’t think it would be this hard.

You placed your face in your hands.

How the hell could you help him? You felt as though Keigo was on the edge of a mountain, and you were the only thing he could grab onto, but now, he was pulling you down with him.

A small, shaky sigh escaped you.

Crunch, crunch.

Footsteps. Fast approaching, almost running.

You cocked your head up, preparing to be kicked off whoever's land that you were on (considering how you just decided to drive to the middle of nowhere).

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought that this was public-”

But you stopped mid-sentence.

There stood Keigo, tears streamed down his cheeks, his panting breaths and sweat glistening from his body must have meant he came all the way out here on foot.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but before you could get a word in, Keigo had bent down to you.

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, still in shock, “N-no.”

He sighed, but his face concentrated like he was thinking too hard, “I’m sorry.” and then, a long, silent pause, “I don’t...I don’t know what else to say.”

“...I don’t either,” you looked back up at him again. “You could have really hurt me, and I just don’t know how to deal with all this. I don’t know how to deal with...you.”

Keigo flinched, the implications of your words stung.

“It’s just...I want to be there for you, I really do, but it’s so hard,” you looked down tears threatening to escape, “I love you s-so much, b-but,” a silent hiccup went through you, “I don’t know how to help anymore.”

Keigo stayed silent, his words trapped under his tongue. He also didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to help himself too, but he knew deep down he couldn’t. He didn’t know how. But he hated what he was doing to you, he hated what he was making you go through.

“Keigo,” he looked back up at you, “Do you still love me?”

Keigo stared wide-eyed back to you, his words at a loss. “I- of course, I do Y/N-”

“Then why don’t you say it?”

He paused, “...What do you mean?”

You sighed, “Have you noticed that ever since what happened, you’ve not been able to say ‘I love you,' to me? Because I have. Each morning I wake up, and I always say, ‘good morning Kei, I love you,’ and you never say it back. It feels like I’m just invisible to you. I don’t want to look at you as something to fix, or as something to make me feel miserable, but I can’t live with someone who just sees me like a ghost.”

It took a while before Keigo finally responded.

“I don’t see you as a ghost,” he said, his voice as low as a whisper, “it’s that I see me as the ghost. I lost...I lost a big part of me in that fight.”

Subconsciously, he reaches back to his used-to-be wings, his fingers flinching when nothing is there.

“Keigo, you are not your wings.”

“How can you say that when everything I was...was built off of them?”

You leaned forward, a hand placed lightly on his cheek, “Your wings did not build our relationship, we did. And we still have each other. Your wings were never the reason I loved you, your wings were always just a part of you, they were never you.”

Keigo looked back at you, placing a hand on top of yours. After a few, dragged-out moments, Keigo leaned into you. But not before whispering lightly on your lips, “I do love you, Y/N.”

. . .

Things were hard, but they were better.

It had been three weeks since the accident that happened with you and Keigo. He agreed to go to a therapist, after what happened with you two, he wanted to get help.

What neither you nor he expected though, was for his therapist to also recommend you get help as well.

In his words; “After understanding the stress that Mr. Takami has gone through, as well the details that he has shared with me, I believe that it is necessary for you to also have some sort of mental treatment. Keigo was not in the right state of mind for a very long time, and you were the only person here to look after him. I believe you first need to talk about your problems separately and then move on to couples therapy. Some of the actions Mr. Takami has put you through may have had negative effects on your psyche.”

Although that was a shock to you, Keigo visibly became more saddened after that.

After the conversation with the therapist, Keigo even offered to move out of your shared room.

“If- if you’re uncomfortable with me being here, I can take the spare room.”

You only shook your head no, saying, “I’m not uncomfortable sleeping next to you, Kei, we’re in this together.”

And you were.

Keigo went to his therapist, as did you. At first, you weren’t sure, seeing as Keigo and you would see the same person and how that may make a conflict of interest, but he assured you that Keigo dealt with trauma relating to his fight, as did you of course, but your trauma and anxiety was more based upon him.

So, you made it work.

After a while of one-on-one counseling, you moved to couples therapy.

It was hard, mostly for Keigo, because he didn’t want to admit to himself, or you, that he had hurt you as much as he did.

So, you opened first.

You talked about how scared you were of losing Keigo, not just physically but mentally, how it hurt you that some days he wouldn’t talk to you. You even opened up about missing the old him.

It seemed like when you first opened your mouth, everything just came pouring out.

And so, after you explained your side, slowly, Keigo started to explain his.

He explained how he didn’t want to hurt you, but how he just couldn’t help himself in that moment. He felt like everyone was turning on him, abandoning him, he thought it was only a matter of time before you. And he couldn’t handle how that thought chased him, his mind just became so jumbled and uncertain.

But he wanted to get better, to show you the man you deserved.

Soon, you came to realize how your relationship would never be the same since that day, how you had lost a part of Keigo, and how Keigo had lost a part of himself. And that part, that part split you two, like a deep cut, and now you two had to sew it back together, and you both knew it would be hard.

Losing that part of your life took time, it took practice and understanding, it took watching Keigo wake up in a nightmare, watching as he screamed and all you could do was hush him and stroke his cheek softly as you told him how you were there, even as tears slipped down your cheeks as well.

But you let them, you let yourself show him that you were sharing the pain, that you were together in this.

Keigo was hurting, you knew that, but as your therapist told you; “You are grieving, grieving for that Keigo that died in that battle, and not only are you grieving, you are also trying your best to take care of someone who was already so broken that now they might as well be shards of the vase they once were.”

But that didn’t stop you from explaining how you felt selfish and terrible, how you felt like you were a bad person for feeling upset, for wanting Keigo to go back to you.

After each therapy session, you two would go out and sit on the porch, not doing or saying anything, because you both realized you had said plenty before.

. . .

After a year since then, things had gotten significantly better.

Keigo and you understood the inner workings of your relationship, not only that, you both understand each other a lot better. Understanding how you both needed one another, how you two could only grow to help each other.

Almost a year has passed since the incident with Dabi, a year since Keigo “lost” his wings.

But his wings were back, and he was back.

Although, maybe not fully.

Keigo was almost like a different vision of himself, a more, down to earth, real version of who he was.

Maybe, it was the person he always was, but just never could show it.

With you, he was the most caring he’s ever been.

Watching as you fell asleep in his arms, creasing your body oh-so-perfectly as he kissed you deeply, his sing-song praises in your ear. He loved you so much.

And you, you helped him grow as well. Being there for him, watching him, helping him.

You never left him, you carried out your promise to yourself, keeping him with you no matter what. You loved him so much, and you were so happy to see how he healed.

And here you both were, Watching as the sunset, as the ocean waves tied down, the sun Illuminating the water passing over.

You watched as Keigo’s eyes lit up in the bright light, his scar’s still reflecting the hard past that he's been through, and yet, reminding you how lucky you are.

At that moment you leaned in, giving him a light peck on his cheek.

Keigo turned to you, before laughing, “Why did you do that?"

"Because... I just realized how lucky I am to have you. Thank you, Keigo.”

"There's no need to thank me, dove," he said, kissing you as well "I'll always love you, and I always will be thankful that I have you as well."

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: First of all, happy holidays! I hope that you can spend them with the people precious to you and can rest your energies for next year.

Okay, so this is a bit about communication issues with my parents. I have autism with sensory hypersensitivity in general, specifically misophonia. Loud noises (especially high-pitched ones) REALLY hurt my ears. The problem is that both my parents have a tendency to scream without warning whenever something displeases them in a conversation.

My father talks really loudly normally (I think he has hearing loss) and when he gets excited, he shouts your ear off. He's like that all the time and I really like him, so the best I can do is just stand a bit far away when he's talking since he gets really angry and offended when you ask him to tone down a bit.

My mother talks at a reasonable volume, but every time she gets angry at something you say (she perceives everything as a personal attack and doesn't really get that I'm autistic and what it truly entails. To her, it's a limiting label I can overcome with enough will), she will scream at you out of the blue. I ask her to tone down because it hurts and I'm listening just fine, sometimes she will, most of them she'll just accuse me of making her angry in purpose, say I use the "wrong" words (I have no idea what she means and when I ask her to clarify, she says "I should know" as if I'm neurotypical, but go off, I guess lol) or start getting even angrier. I'm not accusing her of anything, I'm just calmly asking her to speak a little less loudly because it hurts when she talks like that and that I'm listening just fine.

I spent a time living by myself at uni, so I got used to them not screaming my ear anymore, so now that I'll spend the holidays at home, it's truly an issue. I suspect my mother has some type of personality disorder because if she perceives any sort of "accusation" in what you're saying, she'll berate at you. I'm not saying anything bad for her to flip off like that. It happens with my father as well, but he'll just scream back at her and it'll become unbearable to be around them at those times.

Do you have any suggestions on how can I talk to them a bit to minimize this issue? It truly hurts, so it's not something I can just pretend it's fine, when you're in physical pain, it becomes unbearable to pretend it's not that, but I really like them and want to be around them. Thanks, have a nice xmas

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

I wish you happy holidays as well, though it may be a challenge. Your parents sound like... quite the characters. As a general rule of thumb, when you are faced with a situation that cannot be changed or people who will never change, most of your options fall into three categories: accept, adapt, or avoid.

I relate to your pain. I also can't physically tolerate shouting and screaming. I'm not autistic but I have immense sensitivity to certain loud noises, to the point where it feels like my brain melts and I will collapse. For example, when I'm working on my car and I have to turn on the shop-vac, the noise of that thing just punctures a big hole in my being. Others just deal with it and can't understand why it's debilitating for me. Some sufferers try a kind of graduated exposure therapy, where they expose themselves to louder and louder noises to gradually get used to them, but it hasn't worked for me.

Since I can't change my physical sensitivity and I can't always change the sound environment, I keep a set of earplugs handy whenever it's likely I'll be subjected to very loud noises. I found some discreet looking ones and I sometimes use hat/hair to cover them up as needed, but people are usually understanding once I explain the problem. I learned to adjust them into a position where I can still hear what people say while volume is reduced.

I'm not saying this is an ideal solution or that it will work for you. I'm only saying that practical problems need practical solutions, so you have to be creative and find a way to adapt.

[whereisten]

Heal

A Kun fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Doctor Qian Kun is a young and successful doctor who works miracles. And you are no exception when you become his patient.

Pairing: Doctor! Kun x female reader

Genre: romance, angst, fantasy, horror

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: blood, manipulation

(A/N: Thank you guys so much for your support with our Halloween fics! Hope you enjoy the adventures of y/n and Doctor Kun!)

___

You were no stranger to visits to the Neo Hospital in your hometown. When you were a baby, you basically lived at the hospital. You were prone to colds and fevers. You always experienced body aches and fatigue. You were born with a chronic autoimmune disorder that left many doctors baffled. They were only able to provide you with medications to alleviate your pains temporarily. You were confined to stay at home, to be homeschooled by your parents, and make friends online. Your childhood was far from normal.

You were a college junior now and you’ve been strictly online. If it wasn’t for the Internet, you probably would’ve lost your mind by now.

You had contact with the outside world but not physical contact. It’s what you longed for the most.

You resented your family. Your older and younger siblings could go out whenever they pleased. How did they get so lucky? Why were you the only sibling that got the short end of the stick?

Everyone in your family always interacted with you carefully, using hand sanitizer and always washing their hands prior to helping you with something. They treated you like a fine, porcelain doll that had to be preserved. It was irritating on your best days and unbearable on your worst. You felt like an abomination sometimes.

However, throughout the years, you would rebel. You would run away from home when your parents eyes wandered for a moment. The farthest you’d get before getting caught was the park. You were lucky that you didn’t develop any harsh symptoms from those times you ran away. However, you would be punished for taking such risks. You’d get your phone and internet privileges taken away for a month every time.

Last week, you succeeded in your most ambitious escape yet: you made it to Target to buy the new Ariana Grande CD. You thought that the one trip to Target couldn’t hurt you. By no means was it crowded and no one got into your space.

Well, you were wrong to think that you’d be fine.

Now you came down with a fever and you’d been placed on bed rest at your all-too familiar Room 1196 on the eleventh floor of the hospital.

You resented your body. A lot of people could recover from a fever and carry on with their day-to-day lives but you? Not so much.

Your parents made a whole spectacle of getting you to be seen by the best doctors but these doctors couldn’t help you the way you’d hoped.

However, this time, you awoke the next morning after your intake and felt...nothing.

Like you never had a fever in the first place.

You spent the morning checking your social media. Your crush/online classmate Sicheng was on a weekend hiking trip with his friends. He was with a bunch of beautiful, healthy people in North Carolina. You were even more bummed to be in the hospital now.

You wondered what life would be like if you didn’t have your condition. Where could you have gone? Who would you be now?

You’ve always wanted to go to the beach by yourself. To the supermarket. Hell, across the street. You wanted to go somewhere. Anywhere. Without anyone coddling you and watching your every move.

You wished for freedom from the body you were born with. To find a new one, somehow.

Because you had no hope for your current body to change.

“Y/n? Can I come in?” A male voice was heard from the door.

“Sure.” You sat upright on the bed.

The person at the door entered and he was the prettiest healthcare provider you’d ever laid your eyes on. He had warm, brown eyes and a radiant smile. His dark blue hair was wavy.

Suddenly, you regretted not brushing your hair that morning.

He donned a lab coat with the hospital’s name on it. His name tag was in a lanyard: Dr. Qian Kun, MD, DOM, PharmD.

He looked very young...And to have all of those titles? Your head was spinning.

He frowned as he saw how confused you looked. “Are you alright?”

You nodded. “I am.”

He sat on the chair beside your bed. “It’s nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Dr. Qian Kun but you can call me Kun.”

You blinked a few times. “Are you really a doctor?”

He laughed, confused. “What?”

“You don’t seem that much older than me…”

He sighed. “I get that a lot. I’m twenty-four. I graduated early from university...Earned my titles...Now here I am.”

“That’s amazing. You are probably the youngest doctor ever.”

Kun shook his head. “Afraid not. Bala Ambati became a doctor at seventeen.”

You shook your head. “Still...You have three doctorates. That means triple the sleep deprivation. Hats off to you.”

Kun chuckled as he looked at your information in his clipboard. “Your vitals have improved a lot since yesterday.”

You looked down at your hands. “Yeah...That’s impossible…”

Kun shook his head, noting how down you looked. “It is possible, y/n.”

You met his gaze. “How?”

He smiled. “Are you familiar with oriental medicine?”

He sure was charming, you thought. You reminded yourself to answer his question. “No, I’m not.”

Kun got up from his seat. “Well, there are many different practices that a doctor of oriental medicine can utilize, like acupuncture, meditation, and herbal therapy...To restore harmony to the human body. I specialize in herbal therapy.”

“I see…”

“I have created an herbal mixture that has worked efficiently to get my patients back up on their feet.”

Incredulous still, you managed to say, “That’s great, Doctor.”

He lifted an eyebrow.

“I mean, Kun.”

Kun resumed, “And I‘ve provided you with the herbal mixture and from the looks of it, the results have quickly taken effect.”

You were speechless. “That’s…”

“I know it’s hard to believe, y/n. But sometimes doctors fail to find other alternatives to help their patients. Which is why I’m glad I’m your primary physician now.”

“Wait, what about Doctor Morris?” Doctor Morris had been your primary physician since you were five years old.

“She’s retired. I’ve been taking on a couple of her patients now.”

“I see…”

Kun looked out your room’s window and smiled to himself. “You don’t trust me.”

“Don’t take it personally. I don’t trust any medical professional. No one has been able to understand my condition yet so…”

Kun replied, “You’ve been let down too many times.”

“Exactly. Doctors just can’t figure me out.”

He turned to you and grinned. “Allow me to prove you wrong, then.”

___

At the recommendation of Doctor Kun, you were assigned to stay in the hospital for the next few weeks to see how the herbal mixture would affect your body if you took it for a longer period of time.

Every passing day, you felt more alive. It was weird to say this but you felt more alive at the hospital than you did before. You were beginning to suspect that Kun’s herbal mixture was actually working.

The herbal mixture was made of feverfew among other medicinal herbs. It had certainly done the trick to reduce your fever overnight. You wondered just what this mixture was made of.

You just finished your online linguistics lecture and closed your laptop. You found Kun waiting at the door. “You free?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He sat down next to you and pulled some of your favorite candy out of his pocket.

He put the candy bar in your hand. His fingers lightly touched your palm. Your face warmed up at his proximity. “Happy Halloween, y/n.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out. How did he know you loved Twix? You took the candy bar into your hand and almost cried.

“Y/n?” He asked, worried.

You wiped a tear away. “Sorry...It’s just that this time of the year is hard because...I want to celebrate it. Go out and trick or treat...I know that time has gone for me but I hate that I missed out, you know…”

“Y/n…”

You sniffled and took a bite of the chocolate bar. “My parents never wanted me to feel like I was missing out so they would bring the holiday home to me. I was never in need of M&Ms, Skittles, Twix, or Sour Patch Kids…They even helped me make the best Halloween costumes. We would watch a bunch of horror movies all month long...But I wanted to be a kid. I wanted to go out with my friends and go door to door…”

Kun’s heart went out to you. He hated seeing you so down and so deprived of a life that everyone should have. “Y/n, you will be able to do all of the things you want to do in life.”

You looked at Kun and he had a determined look on his face. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’ve worked with people with conditions like yours...They thought they would be attached to the hospital forever one way or another. But with my methods, I was able to help them turn their life around. And now they’re living normally and fully.”

You sighed. “I’m happy to hear that...I just don’t think I’ll be one of them.”

Kun placed his hand over yours. “Trust me, y/n. I won’t let you down.”

You met his eyes, then, and you smiled. “Thanks, Kun. I’ve gotta hand it to you. You’re my favorite doctor.”

He beamed. “Is that so?”

You nodded. “Yeah...None of the other doctors ever gave me so much as a lollipop Even though that seems to be the norm on TV…”

Kun chuckled. “There’s more where that came from, y/n.”

___

It has been a month since you’ve entered the hospital. The medical bills were covered by an anonymous benefactor. Your family didn’t have to worry about the financial strain of your hospital stay.

Your family came to visit you and they were stunned at how radiant you looked. They were surprised at how much more ALIVE you looked when they expected you to be weak and miserable because you were at the hospital. Something about you was different.

“Doctor Kun is a miracle worker, isn’t he?” Your dad asked.

“I heard he’s a sight for sore eyes, too...Don’t you think so, y/n?” Your older sister Sydney teased.

You mom shook her head and helped fluff your pillows. “How are you, sweetheart?”

You smiled. “I’m better, actually. I think Kun’s methods are working.”

“Oh, are you two on a first name basis?” Your sister joked.

You rolled your eyes. “He told me to call him Kun. If you saw him, you’d feel weird calling him Doctor, actually.”

“He’s quite young, y/n. He graduated from a top university in Beijing at age 10. Then, he went to medical school right after. He’s been a practicing doctor for a couple of years now. He’s unbelievable,” you dad said.

Kun entered the room, then. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I’m Doctor Qian Kun. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Your mom was in love with him. Your dad was in shock at how young he was. Your sister wanted his number. You broke their stunned silence. “Kun, these are my parents Donna and Andrew. And this is my sister, Sydney.”

Kun greeted them. “I’m glad you are all here so I can tell you the good news.”

Everyone was shocked at the phrase “good news”. What good news could he possibly have to share?

Kun continued, “Y/n, your vitals are working at optimum level and we want to see how well you can fare by discharging you.”

You asked, “What?”

Kun smiled. “You can start having a normal life...In which you can attend in-person classes, go to the supermarket, take up a sport…”

You weren’t sure about the last thing he offered but everything else he suggested made you jump out of your bed. “Serious?”

Kun’s smile grew. “Yes.”

Your parents gave each other looks.

Your dad started. “Doctor, are you sure about this...y/n has lived all of her life in our home. The only outside world she’s ever known is our backyard and this hospital.”

Kun nodded. “I am sure. I’ve worked with several patients with similar cases as y/n’s and I would like to put the effect of the herbal mixture to the test. If there is any risk, she will immediately be brought back to the hospital and I will up the dosage for the herbs.”

After a few more minutes of discussion, your parents reluctantly agreed to take you home. To alleviate their concerns, you promised to consult with Kun once a week so he could monitor your progress.

You would be going home tomorrow and you had been given the green light to live a normal life. Outside. Go to classes. See your friends. Go to the beach. Buy fruits at the grocery store.

You packed up your belongings and Kun visited you one last time before you left. “Hey.”

You smiled brightly at him. “Hi!”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better than I ever have, honestly. And I have you to thank for that. Look, I’m not sure if this will work out in the end but the fact that I can take the chance and go out there...Thank you.”

Kun ruffled your hair. “I’m here for you, y/n.”

You did admit to yourself that you’d had a little crush on Dr. Kun but who were you kidding? He was so out of your league. You’d had a friend in him and you would always be thankful to him. “I have something for you.”

Kun’s eyes widened. “For me?”

“I wasn’t sure it’d get to my house in time but my mom got the package today. I told her to bring it today when everyone visited so…”

You pulled out a small gift bag with Kun’s present inside.

Kun smiled. “You didn’t have to get me anything.” “You’ve done a lot for me, Kun. I may have my doubts but I don’t doubt your intentions. And they're nothing but good. You’ve been doing so much for me. You’re setting me free...In a way.”

You handed the bag to Kun. He pulled out a little wrapped box from inside. He looked at you as he mocked suspicion.

He removed the wrapping to find a pair of AirPods. He gaped. “Y/n…”

You smiled. “For whenever you need to escape the noise…”

Kun had told you that sometimes he would get overwhelmed with his duties at the hospital and you’d asked him what gave him comfort. He told you it was music. So you figured something as light and portable as AirPods could help Kun calm down whenever he needed it throughout the day.

He smiled brightly at you and surprised you by wrapping his arms around you. “Y/n, thank you...You shouldn’t have…”

You froze. Kun’s toned body was against yours and you could feel the racing of his heart. Your heart probably beat twice as fast. You felt yourself get warmer and warmer. You pulled away from him, his hands on your arms.

He blushed. “Sorry…”

You cleared your throat. “Don’t worry about it…”

Your dad returned to the hospital room. “Y/n, you ready?”

Perfect timing, dad, you thought.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

___

It may have been the second semester of your junior year but you felt as nervous as an incoming college freshman as you entered Neo University’s grounds for the first time. You were meeting some of your friends for the first time ever.

It was one thing to see them on the screen but your heart accelerated thinking of what it would be like to see them in the flesh.

You’ve been doing well so far with the herbs Kun had sent you home with. You were able to go grocery shopping with your mom. She was still considering whether or not you could go to the beach yet. You hoped that your progress would continue so she would say yes.

You felt healthier than ever. You could breathe well through your nose. You felt no body aches. You were ready to cartwheel across the quadrangle.

First, you had to learn how to cartwheel, though.

“Y/n!!!!!” Jungeun called out to you.

Your blonde best friend ran up to you and jumped you from behind. “Ah!”

“Jungeun!” You gasped.

She laughed. “You said I could touch you so I wasn’t about to hold back.”

You hugged each other tightly.

“Y/n, it’s so good to see you!”

You and Jungeun have been friends since middle school so you were already a sobbing mess on your first day.

“Stop crying, y/n or else I’m gonna…” She started crying, too.

“Enough with the tears, already,” Dejun added.

You and Jungeun hugged Dejun to bother him, then.

He laughed. “Y/n, welcome to Neo U.”

“Thanks,” you said, smiling.

You three went to your seminar together and you were just so in awe of being in a classroom, you had trouble focusing on the lecture. You were even more distracted when you saw that Sicheng was in the same class.

He recognized you and waved. You were yelling so loudly on the inside.

Before this semester, you had the occasional online class that you shared. You saw Sicheng for the first time a year ago and your crush on him grew from there. He was one of the most popular guys on campus, according to Jungeun. You had a group project with him last semester and he was so...Perfect.

He was intelligent and down-to-earth. His smile was so sweet and his eyes pierced into your soul. He was talking poetry. It felt like you were seeing your favorite celebrity in person.

When class ended, you went to lunch with your friends and Sicheng joined you.

“How are you, y/n?” He asked.

“I’m great. Never been better,” you replied.

He smiled. “I’m glad. If you ever need anything, please let me know. You have my number.”

You nodded. “Of course. Same here. If you ever need anything. I’m here for you, too.”

Sicheng chuckled. “Great.”

When you finished lunch, Jungeun couldn’t stop poking fun at you. Sicheng left early for a club meeting. “I’m surprised he didn’t ask you out, then!”

You rolled your eyes. “Ask who out?”

Dejun added. “Me, of course.”

Jungeun continued. “The ‘you have my number’ couldn’t have been more obvious. He wants you in his dorm yesterday.”

You frowned. “And what would we do? Fix his bed?”

Jungeun and Dejun laughed. Jungeun added, “The opposite, y/n.”

Your face heated up then. “Oh.”

Since you have basically spent most of your life either at home or at the hospital, you never even considered the possibility of a love life. You tried to convince yourself that dating sims would’ve been enough.

“Don’t worry, y/n...You and Sicheng can take it slow...He’s no incubus who is trying to take your soul,” Dejun offered.

“True,” you said.

That was if Sicheng saw you that way in the first place.

___

A few weeks had passed. You’d been seeing Kun regularly to check in and everything had gone as expected. You were fine. You weren’t exhibiting any flare-ups. So long as you kept taking the prescribed herbs, you would be fine.

“How is everything, y/n?” He asked.

“Pretty good, actually. School is still school, even if it’s in person. But I got to go to a skating rink for the first time.”

He laughed. “How was it?”

“I am terrible.” You showed your legs. “It explains these bruises.”

Kun shook his head and chuckled. “I’m glad you’re getting out more, y/n. Try and take it one step at a time.”

“Oh, geez. I wish you said that sooner. I already joined a blood cult and I’m getting married next week.”

Kun rolled his eyes as he finished taking notes from your consultation.

“How is everything with you, doc?”

Kun’s eyes widened. “Me?”

“Surely, you’re not always at the hospital.”

Kun sighed. “Well, y/n...it just so happens that I’ve taken residence up on the top floor. The whole floor is my apartment. Don’t really get to spend much time there because I’m almost always on call.”

Your jaw dropped. “What? Kun, that’s abuse. You shouldn’t be working so many hours. It’s against the-“

Kun couldn’t help his smile appearing.

“You sneaky bastard,” you said.

You both laughed, then.

Sometimes you forgot Kun was a successful doctor. Sometimes he felt like your infinitely smarter senior at college.

He was a million worlds away from yours.

Kun answered, “Well, I’m doing fine, y/n. I meet up with friends once in a while and go white-water rafting.”

“That sounds like fun!”

Kun shook his head. “It’s challenging but exciting. I get a rush every time I go.”

You thought out loud. “I’d love to try it sometime…”

Kun pat you in the back. “When you are at one hundred perfect, I’ll give you the green light. Sounds good?”

You nod.

___

You’d wrapped up your midterm and you were ready to head home and take a nap. You walked through the student quad.

“Y/n!” Sicheng called out to you.

You turned around and found Sicheng running towards you.

You smiled, already warm in the face. “Hi.”

“I was wondering if you were free right now…”

“Really? Me?”

He smiled, confused at your question. “Yeah, you. Want to go to the movies with me?”

You nodded. “Absolutely.”

Sicheng drove you guys to the movies. He bought the tickets and the snacks. He let you pick the movie. You picked The Blair Witch Project. It came out over twenty years ago but the theater was doing a limited time screening of it.

You and Sicheng couldn’t shut up throughout the whole movie as you whispered to each and made each other laugh. You’d almost gotten kicked out of the theater.

You left the theater together and he asked you to dinner. You said yes. You were starting to think that this was a date.

“Y/n, this is a date, right?” He asked you at dinner.

You stopped eating your chicken parmigiana and looked at him with big eyes. “I think...Is it?”

Sicheng sighed. “I wanted it to be…”

You laughed. “Oh, thank God. I thought it was all in my head for a second. Maybe you were this nice to all of your friends.”

He pointed out, “I am not this nice to my friends, I can promise you that.”

Sicheng drove you home and kissed you goodnight before you entered your house. You felt like you were floating on a cloud now.

___

Two days later, there was a campus alert that Sicheng had gone missing. His face was all over the news. The last time he was heard from was when he told his best friend Jaehyun that he was going to ask you out to the movies. The last time he was seen was when he took you home.

Sicheng’s car was found a mile away from the dorms. The key was still in the ignition and his wallet and phone were left behind.

You were brought into the police station for questioning and you told them everything that happened the night Sicheng disappeared.

You were worried. What could have happened to him? Would he be alright? Would he be able to come back home? You missed him so much.

You took an evening stroll around your neighborhood to try and calm down. You reached the park where there was no other soul in sight.

Suddenly, you felt a tingly sensation in the back of your neck. You felt that someone was following you.  

You began to walk faster. Suddenly, you were pinned to the ground and everything turned black.

___

You woke up in Room 1196, then. Wait...It wasn’t 1196...It was a different room in Neo Hospital. The room was dark and you could only hear the sound of your breathing. It grew more hysterical with each second.

You felt a burning sensation in your neck. You cried out in pain. You cried out, “Help me, please.”

“Y/n…” You recognized Kun’s voice.

You nearly yelled out in pain but restrained yourself. “What...happened?”

“An animal attack,” he started.

You frowned. “What?”

Kun sighed. “It was good that I was there to help you in time, y/n…”

“What?”

Kun moved your hair out of your face. “I was in the neighborhood when I saw the beast attack your neck.”

“A beast?” You frowned.

“Sicheng, was it?”

Your eyes widened. “How do you-“

“You can’t hide anything from me, y/n...You know that’s not how our relationship works.”

“What are you talking about? Ahhhhh.” The pain was getting to be too much for you.

“Can you put two and two together, y/n? Sicheng bit you.”

You shook your head furiously. “No, he wouldn’t-“

Kun snapped his fingers and Sicheng entered the hospital room. His bright expression nowhere to be found. His eyes were a bright red and his lips had traces of blood on them.

“Sicheng?!” You asked.

Sicheng smiled, showing fangs in his teeth. “Hi, y/n…”

“Oh, my God!” You started.

Kun grew annoyed. “Alright, that’s enough pleasantries for my taste. Go.”

Sicheng walked away at his command.

You began, “What the-“

Kun smiled brightly at you then. This time, his straight white teeth displayed his own fangs. “Y/n...Sicheng has put you in a bit of a bind, hasn’t he?”

You tried backing away from Kun and getting off of the bed but it was almost as if the pain kept you from moving.

Kun ran the back of his hand down your cheek. “When a newborn vampire bites you, the bite is lethal...You could die anywhere between minutes and hours...It depends on the bitten, really…”

You flinched at his touch. “What...did you do to me?”

Kun inched closer to you and you winced. He lathered up the blood that leaked from your neck down to your collarbone.

“What had to be done, y/n. From the moment I first saw you, I knew that I had to have you.”

You cried out in pain. “Somebody help me, please! Sicheng, please!”

Kun, annoyed over you mentioning Sicheng, shut the door to the hospital room. “It’s useless, y/n. Sicheng wouldn’t be in this mess if he hadn’t infiltrated what is mine. Now Sicheng must endure the consequences and be at my mercy. I turned him so now he looks to me for instructions. Until I release him...Perhaps in the next millennium...”

You sobbed. “Kun, please make this pain stop! I can’t take it!”

He cooed. “I know, baby. I want to help you. Just say the word and I’ll make the pain go away.”

The pain dominated your senses so you couldn’t process how exactly he would make it go away. “Okay! Just do it!”

Kun got up onto the bed and straddled you. He leaned down towards your neck and bit into you.

You cried out again but this time the excruciating pain turned into a euphoria so glorious, you never wanted it to end. You wrapped your arms around Kun as he continued to drink your blood.

___

It was morning when you had woken up. You were in Room 1196 now. You shot up from your bed and found Kun seated right beside you.

“Good morning, darling,” he started.

You glared at him. “Bite me. Oh, wait, you already did.”

He smiled. “I see your energy is up. That’s good to see.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m going home…”

Suddenly, you stopped right at the door and your throat started to burn. Your senses heightened and you could sense that one of the nurses was walking right past your room’s door. You wondered what she would taste like if you caught her by surprise right then and there and…

What the holy hell were you thinking?

Kun sighed. “Don’t kill Joyce. She’s the most competent nurse on the staff.”

You ran into your bathroom door and looked at yourself in the mirror.

But you couldn’t.

You put a hand over your mouth and sobbed. “Kun!!!!!”

Kun joined you in the bathroom. “Ah, yes. You won’t be able to gain access to your reflection for another twenty years.”

“Twenty years...What is going on?”

“But what else, y/n? I turned you. To save your life.”

“Turned me into what, Kun?! Say it!”

Kun smiled. “Darling, you already know. Just admit it to yourself.”

You cried. “No…”

“You’ve always wanted a new body. A new life, y/n. And I’ve given it to you. I’ve made you the most powerful creature on this damned planet: a vampire.”

You fell to the ground. You could feel your fangs against your tongue.“Kun! Why did you do this to me? What did I ever do to you?”

Kun sat with you on the ground. “Because I love you, y/n. I never want to be apart from you again.”

You spat in his face. “You made me into a monster.”

Kun, unbothered, wiped your spit away with the sleeve of his coat. “I did not. I made you the best version of yourself you can be. Time for you has become infinite. Your body is immune to all illnesses now. You can see clearly. Your metabolism is in top shape. You are a goddess now.”

You shook your head. “Kun, take it back.”

He chuckled. “You’ve seen enough movies to know that that’s not how it works, y/n...You are mine now. Forever. Just like Sicheng. Just like a lot of the staff in this hospital.”

You shook your head rapidly. “Like hell I’m yours.”

“Y/n, I have been very generous up until this point. Using my blood to help you overcome your chronic condition. Funding your hospital bills...The least you can do is submit to me....”

It was hard to process all of the truths he just delivered. “Your blood?”

He laughed. “You mean you couldn’t taste my blood in the herbal mixture?”

You were about to throw up.

He chuckled darkly. “Admit it, y/n. You loved it.”

“Fuck you, Kun!”

He smiled. “We’ll get to that…”

You sneered. “You are despicable.”

His smile faded. “And you are testing my patience…”  He snapped his fingers at you. “On your knees…”

You stayed on the floor with your arms crossed across your chest.

He frowned as he snapped again. “On your knees, y/n.”

“I don’t think so,” you said.

Kun looked taken aback. “What? How?”

You got up from the ground and looked at him. “I will never submit to you for as long as I live..” If vampires were even considered living.

You ran quickly out of the hospital room, realizing you had superhuman speed now. You were able to leave the historial without facing any temptation to bite someone.

But your thirst had to be satisfied somehow and you had to find a way to quench it without hurting anyone.

___

[2 years later]

You’d skipped town not long after you turned. You sent letters to your family without a return address so as not to risk their safety.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I’m so sorry I ran away. I had no choice. If I didn’t leave, you all would’ve been in danger. One day, I hope to explain it all to you but in the meantime, live your lives fully and love each other. Don’t take anything for granted. I love you so much and will see you again.

Love,

y/n

You had become an infamous blood bag bandit as you moved across the country, running away from Kun. He would occasionally try and track you. Or he would send his henchman like Sicheng to do it for him.

You were lucky so far. You had never attacked a human being and sustained yourself on some blood bags you were able to nab from donating trucks.

The reason why you didn’t submit yourself to Kun that day was indeed because of his blood. Consumption of his blood made you immune to his influence. He couldn’t have you like he had wanted all along.

Kun had been obsessed with you from the very beginning. When you were discharged from the hospital the time you met him, he continuously stalked you. At college, at the grocery store, at your home...It would explain why he was able to send Sicheng to attack you.

He always knew where you were back then.

Kun commanded Sicheng to bite you then and put you at risk of dying. Kun’s plan was to save you, make you his vampire queen, and control you.

It was a shame he failed to see that his creation of medicinal herbs was the one thing that would lead to his plan’s failure.

You were immune to his commands and you weren’t going to stick around and see how else he would try and “win you over”.

According to your research, in all public records, Kun was now twenty-six. A blatant lie since he couldn’t age. So you wondered how long he would remain in your hometown. You kept a careful eye on your family every now and then. You’ve made some contacts to track your family occasionally, as well.

Kun had stooped low and you prayed he wouldn’t stoop even lower to get you.

You worked hard every day to work on your rapidly growing vampiric abilities. You couldn’t stick around anywhere for too long without arousing suspicion.

Now you weren’t confined to one space anymore.

You were confined to running.

You hoped to one day bring it this madness to an end and take Kun down. Save Sicheng and Kun’s other minions.

And for you to truly be free.

[Fin]

[kumkaniudaku]

Understanding

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17

Recommended Listening: Understanding x Xscape, Purple Emoji (ft. J. Cole) x Ty Dolla $ign, My World x Asian

Word Count: 2,137 

If you were going to win an award that afternoon, it’d be for attire, not confidence. Your expertly crafted golf outfit was the only thing willing your feet forward once you parked your car in front of Senior’s golf course.

Black women and men dressed like modern Jet magazine ads waltzed in and out of the clubhouse while you scanned the area for your party. You’d been to your fair share of golf courses, but none as exquisite as The National. Marble accents complemented modern brass finishes and unbeatable views of the city. The desire to take photos for your father was almost too much to shake, but you managed to play it cool. Acting out of place was surely some type of faux pas for the wealthy.

Across the way, Senior sat at the bar sipping a glass of water while thumbing through a newspaper. His furrowed brow was identical to Yahya’s whenever he was knee-deep in work or a good book. The mental comparison made you smile before ushering in a tinge of sadness. For two people so undeniably similar, they were miles apart physically and mentally.

You navigated through groups of young and old alike on the way to the bar.

“You made it on time,” Senior spoke without looking up from a story on education budget cuts.

“I made it with time to spare.”

“You don’t get praise for doing what’s right.”

“Think of how much better things would be if we did.”

Senior paused his reading to take a deep breath and shake his head. You mentally berated yourself for overstepping so soon. Not even five minutes into the outing and you had already committed an avoidable infraction

Yahya I prolonged the unbearable silence as he continued to read through another article, reading each line painstakingly slow while you watched in agony.

“I apologize. That was unnecessary.”

“I’ll ask you again,” he spoke, finally looking away from the newspaper to study your face. “Let’s leave the character right here. We’re here for a purpose, so grab your clubs and follow me to the first hole. I hope your game is as good as you are at running your mouth.” Taking his retort in stride, you quickly grabbed your set of clubs and followed with no objections. “After you.”

Senior found himself immediately impressed though he wouldn’t verbalize his feelings. He watched you breeze through each hole with near expert precision, opening a series of questions at hole 5 during casual small talk.

“Where’d you say you were from again?”

“A tiny town in South Carolina that you probably wouldn’t know.”

“Try me,” he answered while taking stock of his position on the fairway.

“Anderson, South Carolina. Home of Larry Nance and the great Chadwick Boseman.”

“Can’t forget James Kennedy, Young Lady.”

You cocked your head back in surprise. “What you know about Radio? I mean outside of what the movie says?”

Senior remained quiet long enough to take a hard swing. The loud “whiff” of his driver slicing through crisp, clean air didn’t match the stroke’s output. Both of you watch the golf ball sail high into the air before making a landing well short of the intended destination. Senior shook his head at the miscalculation before turning to answer your question.

“Black folks from all over are connected, even without all that Snapgram and Facebook foolishness.”

“I could argue it’s helped, right? How else would you be able to share your granddaughter’s first steps with the whole family?”

“In photo albums. You might not remember those, but they did us just fine.”

“Yeah, but it’s instantaneous conversation and information. Who wouldn’t want that?”

“Maybe instantaneous conversation is the problem. We aren’t making enough time to stop and really think about what we’re saying to each other.”

“Mm.” You let the conversation naturally taper before following Senior to his golf cart. The rolling hills provided enough scenery to keep you interested while you sorted the words in your head.

“I think we may have started off on the wrong foot.” You spoke once the cart came to a full stop. Senior trailed behind in silence, gathering a new club while watching you examine the other golfers in the area.

“You’re rather observant.”

You chuckled and plucked a club from your bag. “I’ve been told. Yahya calls me Eagle Eye when I catch something he’s already talked about ten minutes ago.”

“It’s what his Big Mama used to call his Pop-Pop for the same thing. That man was notoriously late to the punchline.” The nostalgia in Yahya I’s voice caught you off guard though he didn’t see your minor fumble. Something in his retelling appealed to your sense of compassion in a way that you considered long gone when it came to him.

“Let’s not beat around the bush. You have an issue with my presence that we should discuss. Because I can assure you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Bold,” Senior responded with a sarcastic laugh. He gestured to nothing in particular as you squared up to take a swing and nodded. “And direct. Continue.”

You took a moment to hit a line drive toward the green in the distance, using the movement as an outlet for the unexpected nerves churning your stomach. Both of you quietly watch the golf ball for its final resting place before you turned to speak.

“You are extremely hard to please, and it is literally ruining your family. Yahya does everything in his power, and, excuse my French, you don’t seem to give a fuck. Why is that?”

“What makes you think that my love isn’t what makes me push him to be the best that he can? It may not be the fluff and frills you’re used to in your home, but it’s what he needs to get him to his potential.”

“Did it help you?”

Senior mistakenly allowed a quick moment of confusion to take over his features. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You tell me. When’s the last time you enjoyed a laugh with your family or felt like you could just...be? You’re carrying a weight that is crushing the people around you, and you don’t even see it.”

“You don’t…” Senior caught his words and bottled them behind his lips. He took a deep breath as he approached his golf ball and took a half-hearted swing. Noticing his misstep, he shook his head. “I’m from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. My father, Yahya’s Pop-Pop, moved my mother and me to a shotgun shack to find work when things weren’t quite shaking out back home. He was in and out of trouble and such. Couldn’t get right, but he had a natural knack for building and design.”

A nearby group of golfers erupted into laughter, helping to break up some tension.

“So architecture’s been in the family for a while,” you asked. Yahya I curled the corner of his lips into a far-off smile.

“A long, long time. It got us out of that shack when my siblings came along and into a house with our own rooms and a backyard. But, my father was a hard man. Hard to please, you know,” he laughed, making a reference to your earlier words. “He wanted the best from me, and he made damn sure he got it. I needed that to get my head out of the clouds.”

“You also needed some reassurance.”

“Perhaps. But, what’s done is done. I look at what I’ve built with no complaints, especially when it comes to my boys. I couldn’t be more proud of the men they’ve become.”

Senior’s proud smile almost looked foreign on his face. You’d never seen more than an indifferent expression or the slight twinge of anger smoldering behind his eyes.

Leaning on your club, you kept your eyes forward to gaze out over the course.

“Yahya would love to hear that. I don’t know if you know this, but he is desperately searching for your approval. There is not enough praise from me or anyone else that could replace knowing that you’re proud of him. Yet, as much as he would like to tell you these things himself, he’s afraid that you’ll think less of him for being vulnerable.”

“I could never think less of the boy. Tough love is still love.”

“Maybe for you,” you added, shrugging. “But, what good is continuing this cycle if it’s hurting the children you claim to love and the grandchildren after them?”

Senior dropped his head in thought before looking up with an unreadable expression. “Deuce will be fine. He’s all the best parts of his mother. I...I’m confident he’ll figure out fatherhood on his own despite my shortcomings. We raised him well.”

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping -”

“That has never stopped you before, young lady.” His light-hearted chuckle invited you to follow suit.

“Fair point,” you laughed. “So, let me cut to the chase. Allowing Yahya to just ‘figure things out’ is a passive existence. Yahya says you’re constantly reminding him to take things into his own hands. Sounds like you should take your own advice. Be the parts of your father that you needed at 33.”

Instead of acknowledging your advice, Senior twirled his club in his hand on the way to the golf cart. He maintained an impenetrable poker face that even the most skilled readers couldn’t interpret. You silently hoped that at least some of your words had made it through his thick skull, but you chose to let the discussion meet a natural end.

As he started the cart, Senior turned to you and smiled. “How the hell you learn to swing like that? I know it wasn’t in Anderson.”

“Hey, we play a little golf here and there!”

“Where? Out in the woods?”

“No, out in the Bayou like you did.”

A small smirk crept across your face as Yahya I chuckled at your joke. He sounded identical to Yahya, full of mirth and beautiful melodies.

“The ole Bayou,” he repeated in a thick accent. “You ain’t seen a place more beautiful in your life.”

“Maybe Yahya and I could visit one day.”

He quickly looked over and shrugged. “Maybe. For now, you focus on defending this lead. I think I’m getting back into my rhythm.”

Senior couldn’t make a convincing comeback, but he did show glimpses of a softer, more personable disposition. He cracked jokes on occasion and asked questions that turned the conversation from a therapy session to banter between associates. Your mind traveled to the possibility of civil family dinners or vacations during the ride home. Though it seemed silly to create imaginary scenarios after one conversation, you couldn’t help the urge to see a better future.

Your happiness helped you float into your shared apartment, making Yahya smile when he caught a glimpse of your wide grin and short skirt.

“Damn, girl,” he hollered from the couch with Leche cradled in his arms. “If Tiger was out there cheeked up like that, I might’ve paid a little more attention to the golf network.”

“Oh, really?”

Your raised eyebrow made Yahya kiss his teeth once he caught on to the joke. “You know what I meant. Where you been anyway?”

“Oh, I was just out doing a little golfing...with your dad.”

“Right. That was today, huh?”

Even Yahya’s best attempt at feigning interest, his question came out in a flat drone typically used on annoying coworkers. You dropped your purse and keys against a nearby barstool on the way to his spot on the couch.

“It was today. I think we had a good time,” you answered as you slid your arms around his neck from behind, placing a gentle kiss behind his ear. “He didn’t yell at me.”

“You must’ve kissed his ass the entire time.”

“No. We talked about how great I am at golf. I mean, I kicked his ass.”

“Good on you, baby girl. Bring honor to our house.” In a surprise maneuver, Yahya pulled you over the couch and into the space beside him. “Is that all?”

Silence blanketed the room, allowing the college basketball game in the background to have center stage. You considered your options carefully, weighing the pros of a potential argument against a peaceful Saturday indoors. Yahya turned his attention back to the television as he waited for a response.

“Did you hear me, baby? He didn’t say anything rude to you, did he?”

“No!” You blurted. Taking a deep breath, you slowly slid the remote off the coffee table and pressed the power button. Yahya blinked twice at his reflection on the black television screen before turning to you for answers. Your fingers danced across his thighs to interlock with his long digits.

“I think...I think we need to have a real talk about your dad.”

----

A/N: I hope this is better late than never. Only two more chapters left! Really striving to have those to y’all by the end of the month.

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[whatifyoulivelikethat]

warnings: extremely negative feelings towards a sibling, distressing / intrusive thoughts. placed under a break due to the content of the message. remember, I'm not a mental health professional.

updated with additional viewpoints from readers at the bottom!

I'm sorry in advance.

I really hate my older sister. She never respects my boundaries, insults me frequently, and is just annoying and hypocritical in general.

I've always had these issues with her, but she lived at her own apartment away from me and the rest of my family, so I've been able to control my hatred of her. But last year in March she moved back in and sold her apartment. She has no plans of leaving anytime soon, and I can't stand her.

We shared a bedroom for about a year because we were also taking care of my cousin who also moved in with us last year. My cousin has since moved out, but my sister is unfortunately here to stay for a couple of years. But with extra space, I was able to move into the spare bedroom and thought that would be the end of my problems.

It wasn't. In fact, she has become even more unbearable. The hardest part of this relationship is that she has a weird obsession with being with me. I'm not sure if this is because she loves me, or she's just weird. I think she's weird because my parents never act like she does.

Our bedrooms are right next to each other. There's really no reason for her to miss me. But every single fucking minute she's coming into my room to bother me. I would have more empathy for her if she acknowledged my limits, but she doesn't.

She's constantly cuddling me after I've said for MONTHS that I don't enjoy it and it makes me uncomfortable. She constantly belittles me by saying I couldn't live without her, and that I would be a mess if it wasn't for her (mind you, I've lived without her at the house for YEARS and I was perfectly fine). She's constantly in my business, interrogating me about every little thing. She once locked the door and wouldn't let me leave the room without answering her questions for 20 minutes; she asked me about a $30 Amazon order containing manga I ordered with MY OWN MONEY. And I had permission for my parents to order it! It wasn't her business whatsoever.

I've tried to keep her out numerous times; I've gotten in trouble for it. My parents say I'm being mean and that this is her way of loving me. What I feel like they ignore is that I'M UNCOMFORTABLE. Her way of "loving me" HURTS.

I've tried communication. I've had multiple meetings with my family about my boundaries and they say they'll change, but they never do.

Another factor that worsens this is that I have borderline personality disorder. I'm currently being denied therapy or intervention of any kind. I get told my mental illness is a result of me having an attitude and hating my family.

I writing this to you because I've been having very alarming thoughts recently. I'm been somewhat suicidal as long as I can remember, but this is different. I've been having nightmares about killing my family/my family killing me. I don't want to kill my family. As much as they have abused me, I know they truly love me deep down. But when I'm in a mental breakdown, I don't think for the most part. I'm afraid I'm going to do something to hurt them if they continue to push me. I'm too scared to turn myself into the police and I don't want to be taken away from my home. I truly need therapy, but it's expensive and I'm not allowed to get it.

Are there any options left for me? I love my family and I want to get better, but I can't stand them. It'll be a while before I can live on my own, and I don't think I'll make it that long.

I'm so sorry.

I appreciate that you came to me, however, please remember I am not a mental health professional.

I do not have the best relationship with my family. I've come to accept that they just exist and I moved away from them. I keep a strict level of familiarity with them for my own sanity and well-being. There are people in my immediate family I don't talk to anymore or only speak to in certain situations, with other people around to buffer my emotions. No one in my family understands or respects my mental health issues and I have ceased talking about it with them.

I will admit, I had to ask for help. I'm going to share the answer of someone I trust, because they are much more level-headed when it comes to something like this.

Use different words with your sister. Instead of "I'm mad or annoyed", use words that bring out more empathy - "You're making me sad and uncomfortable. You're hurting me." Anger is usually perceived as something within you, something you must control. But sadness is usually not perceived in the same light. People usually see sadness as something that has a cause and perhaps letting her know that she is the cause will have an effect on her. Using different words when speaking to her may slowly change her perspective.

When it comes to your parents, well, parents do not usually understand sibling dynamics. They're fucking useless most of the time when it comes to problems specifically between siblings. It might be better if you say something like, "Her constant intrusions are affecting my school work. My grades are going to drop." Usually, parents respond more urgently if you say you education is affected - and it doesn't matter if it's true or not, we're just trying to get them to help in some way.

I had to remind them it's summertime lol

Oh shit, you're right. Er. Well, In any case, it seems you've tried having reasonable discussions with your parents and it doesn't seem helpful to continue discussing this particular topic with them. Maybe get into fitness since it's summertime. Go outside, do something active. She can't cuddle you if you're running, right? Then you can also be stronger and feeling better physically improves mental health. Put some music on, go hiking or running, take yourself out of the situation.

I don't know if this is possible, but perhaps if you're experiencing a mental breakdown and you're afraid of hurting your family, run out of the house? It might be better to be physically away from them at that time to avoid saying or doing anything you regret. It may help clear your head and help your family realize that this is something that is truly debilitating to you.

I don't know your age, so I don't know if the school thing is relevant. It's only a suggestion.

You said it will be a while before you can live on your own. When I knew the cons of living with my family outweighed the pros, I did everything in my power to prepare myself for leaving because I needed a goal in order to survive. I needed distractions, reading, writing, gaming, music, anything else to occupy my mind and help control my thoughts. There was a time when I needed music to fall asleep (headphones in on low volume).

Also... uh.

I'm not saying you should do this. I'm only saying I did.

My siblings and I have physically fought before. One has scars from fighting me. The scarred one is the one closest to me currently.

Not saying you should do it.

But I did.

If anyone feels comfortable enough to share how they dealt with it in their own situation, please do. Maybe more perspectives can help this person.

--

some other experiences sent to me:

anon #1

I don't think I had a situation that extreme but my brother was a little like that. I honestly had to become kinda rude and indifferent. Like he'd always use my laptop and stuff and I put passwords on everything and just don't tell him. And then when he tried to hug or cuddle id say I don't liek it and just push him away physically now this soudns fucking obvious when I say it this way but like I don't think I read that u tried it ? Idk I discovered I have a loud annoying scream that neighbours will hear, and fucking strokg legs I used to kick him away but like I was tiny so I don't really endorse violence but I didnt like being close to a 'boy' essentially at taht age so yea... Idk man siblings are weird and I have had intrusive thoughts so I think I didn't handle it well but for a few years I became an asshole to him and then now I'm good with talking sometimes and I keep it short and sweet and I've mentioned that I'm sorry for being mean in the past bcuz like I am ? Bcuz I'm not an asshole ? ( But like I did what I had to do ) I hope u get the help and support u need

anon #2

I read the message from the previous anon and I have to say I relate to what they say. I wouldn’t say i’ve completely dealt with the situation when it comes to my parents.

I have 4 siblings and i’m the oldest, my sister that’s 2 years younger than me always gets in my way and is a tyrant. Because she’s much taller than me she overpowers me and i also have scars from when we’ve fought. My parents don’t intervene because they say we’ll make up soon and I honestly can’t stay mad at people for long. I also live with my parents and am not able to move out anytime soon until I get my degree.

A few weeks ago my mother was complaining to my father that I don’t help around the house and all that bullshit but it’s obviously not true. Anyway. My father came into my room and threw all my clothes from my cupboards on the floor and said my sister and I must get out of his house. He was literally pulling us and we were crying because where the hell would we go. My smaller siblings were begging for him not to chase us out of the house but he was ballistic. He was constantly throwing insults at me, calling me selfish and disrespectful. I was having a mental breakdown and I said i hope that God takes my life away because i’m too weak to do it myself. I kept saying that and when my parents heard me. They called me crazy and were laughing at me and said i should take it back because instead of me another one of my family members would go.

My parents don’t care about mental health and therapy. It’s all unnecessary to them. But after that night I tried to find my own way of getting rid of the negative thoughts, I choose to ignore what everyone tells me. I agree with everything that you said about trying to get away from their family when they have those thoughts. I try meditation and praying. I’m not sure if that person follows any religion but that’s what helped me. And writing can be cathartic. Also remember that you’re not alone, there are so many people out there who share your sorrows and can relate to your situation. I think about my little siblings who i’m close to and what it would be like if i wasn’t there.

Maybe if they could get a pet? I know having a pet can make you feel less alone and you feel a sense of responsibility towards them. As for their sister, she needs to see their point of view and tell her that she makes her feel overwhelmed with the things she does. She can spend time with her and try to make her understand that they need their space too.

anon #3

I also have sum advice 4 the sibling anon frm a fellow bpd buddy:

Does ur view of ur sister change from "i hate her" to "she's alright" sometimes? Viewing sum1 as all bad or all good is common in bpd ppl and usually changes alot. I rec writing down the moments where she shows she loves u. This could be thru buying smth for u or doing smth 4 u. I had a similar relationship w a friend and this exercise helped me remember that she might not have intentions to hurt me and might b trying 2 bond. Repairing the relationship might take a while. Talk alot if u can, it seems like ur family is at least willing to hear u out, even if there behavior doesn't change much. Keep sum distance if needed. Working out and finding fun hobbies is good.

If u feel like ur breaking down, try breathing exercises n identify 5 things u notice thru ur senses. What do u feel? What do u smell? What do u taste? What do u see? What do u hear? I personally like taking myself down rabbit holes. For example: I see a yellow jacket > this shade of yellow is a cool tone > what makes a color "cool" or "warm" > why do we associate red with warmth > what if the sun was blue > what if ocean water looked orange > is water wet

I usually end up forgetting what was making me upset. If it was a big deal I would still remember, but at least I would b less emotional and a bit more rational.

Search up cognitive behavior therapy and dialectical behavior therapy and try 2 practice sumthing similar 2 exercises u would perform w a therapist. Squeeze stress balls. Masturbate (this blog is perfect 4 that lol). Maybe watch some videos done by therapists on youtube. I watched a couple of videos abt therapists reacting 2 fighting in movies and I learned alot (this video was very fun to watch)!

Anyway that's what helps me! Good luck 2 u!!!

[justasparkwritings]

Illicit Affairs: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 3

Previous: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 2 

Pairings: Namjoon & Reader (Barely)

Genre: Angst, Slice of Life

Ratings: PG15

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Therapy and Swearing, Lots of Reminiscing 

Summary: Under the guidance of Dr. Aarons, Jungkook and Namjoon work to rebuild their relationship. 

Listen: illicit affairs by Taylor Swift

          “Let’s debrief,” Dr. Aarons sits gently in her chair, hair grown out a little, the new length carefully tossed over her shoulder. She adjusts the pen in her hand and consults the list in her notebook. “We’ve covered a lot of ground in the last few weeks, but there’s one piece we haven’t discussed.”

           “What is that?” Namjoon asks.

           “There’s a new stipulation in Jungkook’s contract that says he can date, I understand, similar to yours, it was a consolation prize,”

           “Mm, when the lawyers and I renegotiated the contracts, it seemed fair that he get something special in return,” Namjoon answers.

           “Jungkook, how do you feel about it?”

           “About dating?”

           “Yes, with all you’ve been through, bringing another person into your life?”

           “I feel, scared,”

           “Can you explain that?”

           “Scared that all of the trauma is going to come back, scared I’m not enough, scared I can’t love someone,”

           “Why do you think that?” Namjoon asks.

           “You don’t get it, do you?” Jungkook’s earnestness slips through his syllables.

           “What don’t I get?”

           “Joon, I’ve spent nearly a decade thinking that Big Hit loves me because I work myself to the bone, because I damage my body and push it past its limits. Love costs,”

           “No it doesn’t,”

           “Your love cost,”

           “No,” Namjoon shakes his head. In the nearly two months they’ve spent in this room with Dr. Aarons, Namjoon has had his share of epiphanies. This, this is new and horrifying.

           “Yes,”

           “I,” Namjoon lunges at Jungkook, a foreign behavior that results in Dr. Aarons gasping. But he doesn’t fight him, he pulls him in, hugging him fiercely. “It doesn’t, it doesn’t Jungkook, there is no price to my love, I swear.”

           “This is the last hurdle I want us to discuss before the rest of the members arrive this week.”

           “Okay,” Namjoon sits back in his spot, leaving Jungkook’s arms empty.

           “We have to separate the idea that the actions you carried out aren’t related to love,”

           “How do we do that?”

           “Jungkook, you’ve made a list of memorable moments with Namjoon, both positive and hurtful, we’re going to work through them to separate the different emotions during those moments. Sound good?”

           “Yes,” The men reply.

           Dr. Aaron’s projects a table on the empty wall to their right, a natural screen. Namjoon stares at the T-Chart and reads over the first event.

           “Jungkook, why don’t you read the first one?”

            “Namjoon asks for a hug on stage,” Jungkook reads.

           “Why did you bring this memory to us?”

           “It’s always stuck in my mind,”

           “Can you elaborate on why?” Dr. Aarons smiles at the blush on Jungkook’s cheeks, before she turns to Namjoon. “Namjoon, what do you remember of that day?”

           “That was, what, Love Yourself World tour? Yeah, I was just feeling so emotional, we were in Seoul before going to the US to play stadiums. It was all so overwhelming, to start in our hometown, to be there, as Bangtan with all we’d been through.”

           “Jungkook, why did this stand out to you?”

           “Namjoon-hyung isn’t one for physical affection, he’s not like Hobi-hyung or Jimin-hyung, he doesn’t walk around with a free hug sign… it was so special that he wanted to share that with me, with all of us on stage in front of everyone.”

           “Was that moment pure love, or calculated action?” Dr. Aarons inquires.

           “Pure love,” The men answer in unison.

           “Let’s look at the next one.”

           “Preparation for Billboard awards,” Jungkook reads.

           “Which time?” Namjoon asks.

           “2018,” Jungkook specifies.

           “Oh, Fake Love era,” He nods his head, mind already racing through the string of events that made that year nearly unbearable.

           “Yes,”

           “Granted, we are only on the second event, but 2018 seems to have been one hell of a year. What was going on behind the scenes?”

           The thing about being a therapist is that you always know more than your clients think. Particularly when they’re famous, and Billboard has created detailed lists of their accomplishments for the last few years, you tend to be clued in when a high-profile individual waltzes through your doors. Dr. Aarons had never worked with an idol of such status and power as Jungkook and Namjoon, and eventually OT7. So, to prepare, she naturally went in to read the facts. The lists of accomplishments, itemized by year, proved indelible to her work with them. She felt prepared when Jungkook walked into her office, and through their dedicated time each day, she learned more and more. Dr. Aarons could see in that first meeting how damaged his psyche was, she could see the betrayal and confusion, the years of misuse of his body, the systems woven into his DNA that he was going to have to relearn. But she also saw the drive, the hope, the soul in his midnight irises. Now, watching him interact with Namjoon, she was beginning to feel proud of all the progress he’s made.

           “We were practicing nonstop,” Jungkook’s voice pulls her back.

           Namjoon nods, “We were all falling apart.”

           Dr. Aarons hums thoughtlessly, an empty gesture to the two whose minds are reliving the hell from that year. “This is when you considered breaking up?”

           “Disbanding, yeah,” Namjoon nods again. “We met and talked about it, a lot. It was hard navigating the pressure of becoming a more global group and the pressures of the Korean music industry.”

           “Hobi-hyung and Jimin-hyung released solo stuff, too,” Jungkook adds

           “I did too,” Namjoon reminds him. “It was a busy year with a lot of promotions and changes, so many music videos, we played the Tokyo Dome,”

           “Mic Drop Remix came out, and we had a song go platinum for the first time,”

           “We started to win big at MNET and MAMA awards,”

           “Wasn’t that the first time we were in Time Magazine?”

           “Mm, the world voted us person of the year,” Namjoon remembers receiving the news, they had been ecstatic.

           “But you wanted to disband?” Dr. Aarons wonders. “Why?”

           “All that success was overwhelming,” Jungkook answers.

           “Jungkook, you’re an introvert?”

           “Yes,”

           “I can imagine the toll that took on you, and still does, finding time to rest and recharge,” Dr. Aarons has had this conversation with him before, the need to manage his introverted personality, how he controls his body and the world around him. The tattoos, the piercings, the hair dying. All symptoms. All things she wasn’t sure Namjoon had realized.

           “I guess I thought exercise was a way to manage it,” He shrugs.

           “Jungkook, what stands out to you about Namjoon at this time?”

           “He was the reason I joined, the promises he made. We were together wondering if it was worth it and I just felt like I’d sacrificed so much, my body was breaking, and he was sitting there wondering if we should quit.”

           “Mm, did you feel betrayed?”

           “Yes, by him,”

           “What about the other members?”

           “They didn’t see it that way, Namjoon-hyung didn’t promise them what he promised me,”

           “You were feeling betrayed by him, and working your body to the max with minimal success,”

           “Yes,”

           “Namjoon, how were you feeling?”

           “I felt like we were gaining success but at what cost?”

           “That cost was me,” Jungkook says. “It’s always been me.”

           “Jungkook,”

           “Namjoon, we’ve been working on this, but there’s still a disconnect.”

           “I don’t know how to make him understand what I was going through too,”

           “Mm, Jungkook?”

           “Ttaeron naui sum makhil ttaemyeon / Mojal nulleosseugo gyesok dallyeo” Jungkook replies.

           “I know,”

           “You don’t, you never will. You got love, you got a career, you got a life, you got it all.” Jungkook whispers.

           “Was 2018, specifically the lead up to the Fake Love performance love, or calculated action?” Dr. Aarons presses.

           “Both,” Jungkook answers.

           “Elaborate,” She requests.

           “Namjoon-hyung wanted to walk away because he loved us, he respected us, he wanted us to be happy. But pushing me in rehearsals and building me up by complimenting the results was calculated. The lies he told were planned. He knew what he was doing to me.”

           “Namjoon, do you think that’s a fair assessment?”

           “Yes. You were also working out so much because you had to lift your shirt every time, we did that stupid song,” Namjoon sits back, the air in his lungs deflating.

           “Who decided that?” Dr. Aarons asks. “It’s something I’ve wondered about.”

           “Choreographer,” They answer.

           “Could it have been a calculated move?”

           “Maybe,” Jungkook answers. Namjoon sits silently, staring at his hands. His silence tells Dr. Aarons everything she needs to know, it was.

           “Hmm, alright next,”

           “Bangtan performing Ddaeng together,” Jungkook reads.

           “Tell me about that,”

           “We had two concerts, like a showcase, and OT7 decided we wanted to perform Ddaeng together. We divided the vocal line, Hoseok took Jimin and Seokjin, Yoongi took Taehyung, and I had Jungkook. We rehearsed and then performed together,” Namjoon explains.

           “What was special about this?”

           “We never perform rap line songs with the rap line. It was a surprise to the fans, and something we all really wanted to do. Namjoon and I have always been close, and he let me really take the verse and make it mine for those performances,”

           “Namjoon, why did you pick Jungkook?”

           “I didn’t, it was just, decided,”

           “Hobi-hyung took Jimin and Jin because they were the least experienced with rapping, and were happier to split a verse than have their own.”

           “Taehyung wanted Yoongi’s verse, desperately wanted it.”

           “I would’ve been happy with either, but I guess, I’ll take any opportunity to work with Joon-hyung,”

           “How was rehearsing?”

           “Really fun,” Jungkook says. “It was the most fun I’ve had in rehearsal, maybe ever,”

           “It was thrilling to watch him take on this song, my verse and make it his own. Our styles are very different. It was fun to watch him play with it, make it his,”

           “You still rapped parts of it with him,”

           “We took turns at the beginning of the verse,” Jungkook answers. “Then I did the rest.”

           “Love, or calculated?”

           “Love,” Namjoon answers.

           “Was it?” Jungkook asks.

           “You think it would be calculated?” Namjoon asks.

           “Show me how I could do more than just sing, push me to explore different parts of my job, continue my drive. Could’ve been calculated,”

           “But you didn’t get into rapping at that point, you haven’t yet,”

           “True,”

           “From what I’m hearing, it sounds like love,” Dr. Aarons decides. “You two have come a long way in the last two months. I’m excited to talk to the other members and work through a few items with them too. How are you feeling about them coming?”

           “I’m excited,” Jungkook tells her. “I haven’t seen them in a while, I miss them.”

           “I’m happy we’ll get to work through this, though, very nervous,” Namjoon answers.

           “Good. All things to take into consideration as we ready our minds for our meeting.”

           Dr. Aarons bids the men adieu, and as they exit into the LA sun, Namjoon turns to Jungkook.

           “You’ve come a long way,” Namjoon compliments.

           “So have you,” Jungkook responds.

           “Do you want to get dinner later?” Namjoon inquires, eyes hopeful. They haven’t had many 1-1 moments, a few work activities together, some studio time and lyric sessions, but limited social time. At first Joon hated it, but after meeting with Dr. Aarons a few times outside of their group work, he came to realize how important it was for each of them to be apart, separated during their therapy.

           “I can’t, but maybe we can get coffee tomorrow before the guys show up?” Jungkook offers. It’s a consolidation prize, Namjoon can see it in the way he shrinks himself in the sunshine.

           “Sounds good, I’m moving into a bigger place with them, are you coming too?” Namjoon inquires.

           “No, I’m staying in mine. Dr. Aarons’ wants me to slowly transition back to work,” Jungkook informs him.

           “That’s a good plan,” Namjoon nods, sunglasses masking the disappointment in his eyes.

           “Yeah, so coffee, tomorrow?”

           Namjoon nods, “Eight?”

           “Sounds good,” Jungkook waves at Namjoon before turning and going his own way.

           Jungkook has plans, plans that he’s sure will go from dinner through the evening until early morning when his new love has to go to work. It’s new, a few weeks old, but feels like being on stage: familiar, comfortable, challenging, exhilarating, home. Jungkook’s only told Dr. Aarons about it, and she’s given him cautious advice. He had asked Dr. Aarons if this was a good idea, a relationship, dating at all… potentially his first real relationship with someone who looked at him like, like no one had before. It was something that was just his, in his heart, to be shared with her and only her.

           So maybe he was ditching and lying to Namjoon, but after nearly a decade, isn’t it time?

Next: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 4

[pwapuri]

"After rain"

Okay, I’ve never wrote a fanfic in english but I would like to try. I’m sorry about the mistakes, here we go, a GinTsu x Kontae oneshot. 

_______________

It was a rainy day across Edo. The weather forecast was a storm and the recommendation was to seek shelter. In the Yorozuya, the noise was concentrated in the Otose’s snacks. Kagura and the bar staff were making a mess with the customers who came forward in the late afternoon.

"How is my lucky day if its going to rain? My hair has started to look bad"

Upstairs, Sakata Gintoki remained watching the news along with the prediction of Kestuno Ana who at times seemed to speak to him: "you from Libra with curly hair, today is your lucky day!"

-Excuse me is anyone at home?

From the door, he heard a familiar voice

…

Upon leaving the cabaret 'Smile', Otae noticed that the rain was starting to fall. She thought that would not be able to get home in time, just when she promised to her brother to come with a treat, beef for the yakiniku. As she had worked during the day was dismissed during the night and could go home. However, the rain would hinder her plans.

-Otae-san? Needing an umbrella?

The voice was that of the Shinsengumi commander. Her stalker gorilla.

-Not your umbrella gorilla

-Ah, too bad. I don't have another one with me. As I was on the way home, I thought of accompanying you...

-Oh for god sake, so why don't you give me the umbrella and go alone? I heard that gorillas look good in the rain

-Otae-san… - he said in a serious and unusual tone- you know I would do it anyway, but today I need to get to the shinsengumi HQ on time, I understand that you don't want to accompany this gorilla, so...

Strangely, the gorilla left without insisting. The first thing the young woman thought was "go with the gorillas". However, they had known each other for so many years, went through so many problems together and even today that without any status they could say that there was a bond between them.

-Well... - Otae interrupted Kondou's farewell - since our path is the same maybe, I may accompany you.

-IT WORKED?

Kondou let his plan slip. Maybe Otae already imagined that it was a plan based on some crappy movie that the gorilla fantasized about, but what harm would it do? Her home was far away and she was tired. In addition, the gorilla knew that at first nastiness she could blow his brains out.

...

-Ah, it's you ... - said the man sitting in the chair with a discouraged tone

-As you can see. Where is everyone? - said the death courtesan Tsukuyo, who entered the room with a bottle of apparently expensive sake wrapped in a bow as well as a box of sweets and some flowers in a small bouquet. She placed the items on the coffee table while entering the yorozuya store. She had been to that place very few times, in fact only once. Before the war against the tendoushuu they were usually the ones who sought her and after it was over, she no longer visited the saviors of yoshiwara.

-What do the winds bring? Who are these things for? Is the business in yoshiwara that bad? going to sell door to door?

-If I were to sell something like this it wouldn't be for a loser like you. These are Hinowa's New Year gifts, she apologizes that she can't come because of physical therapy, the children's otoshidamas are here with the sweets. Where are they?

-They're downstairs, at the bar. Leave it there and they'll take it.

Gintoki's speech was interrupted by thunder followed by the abrupt fall of the heavy rain that started to make a huge noise.

- Damn, it started raining. I need to hurry. -Tsukuyo made the comeback in order to leave

-Where are you going with this rain?

-Come back home.

-I think it is better to wait, I was leaving for the Otose’s bar too but now I’ll have to wait. Gintoki got up and went to the sofa, Tsukuyo who was near the exit door turned again

-It won't hurt to wait, sit here, I won't bite you

Tsukuyo thought twice before accepting, but she heard the doors slamming in the wind and heavy raindrops came along wetting everything; perhaps it would be prudent to wait at least a little while. On the other hand, being alone with Gintoki seemed even more dangerous. It had been literally years since this happened, since the battle at the terminal ended they only met in the smile once and with everyone. They haven't been able to talk since then, this would be a good opportunity.

-Well, maybe I expect the storm to subside.

She sat on the sofa next to Gintoki, the front sofa had a bunny-decorated cover and a series of debris that probably belonged to Kagura and it seemed impolite to move it. Even so, she sat far enough away that she didn't smell so much of Gintoki's male scent that makes her dizzy.

-Well, we haven't been alone like this for a long time. What happened to you in yoshiwara in that time? Although I saw it with my eyes ...

Tsukuyo arranged the tobacco in the kiseru and lit it with a match, puffed the first smoke and began to tell about the small problems she faced for two years.

…

-Kondou-san, your shoulder is wet.

-Ah! Er. - Kondou couldn't take Otae's concern and immediately blushed - it's okay Otae-san! Getting me wet in that rain with you doesn’t hurt - and he made the face of a romance protagonist with confidence, which only made him look more like an idiot.

-I knew you had read some shoujo and started fantasizing to make this scene.

-Otae-san. I actually read shoujos, but it doesn't change the fact that I want to accompany you anyway.

Otae stopped and thought: of course, she was angry at Kondou-san's constant harassment; she wanted to live in peace with her privacy. Even so she know about the goodness in her pet's heart.

Seeing the commander's shoulder completely wet, Otae passed her right hand under the arm that held the umbrella, thus reducing the distance between the two and allowing the space in the umbrella to increase. Kondou was caught by surprise, his eyes widening when saw Otae-san timidly clinging to his arm, being able to feel her warmth and her tiny hand resting on his haori. He thought of shouting for joy or grabbing the rest of his lover's body in a hug, but he thought better of it, any strange movement and that moment was over, any joke and not only that moment but the rest of his life would pass in front of his eyes. Of all the options he did the right thing, kept silent and blushed his face involuntarily.

-Don't get it wrong gorilla, in case you get the flu I will not accept you in my house or anywhere. Not that I accept normally. -Otae spoke in the tone of threat common to her with the sadistic smile of someone who is not kidding, but the cheeks did not deny that the situation was embarrassing in any way.

…

-So they didn't come back?

-Not until today, I believe they still exist, they may be waiting for the first opportunity to return but I will not allow it, as soon as it happens again I will have no mercy

-Saying like that even I would be afraid.

As the rain gradually subsided outside, Tsukuyo told Gintoki every detail of the two long years that had happened in Yoshiwara without the presence of the samurai. She told of the countless abused men, the children who could be born in this new era, the renovated tourist spots like Hosen's mansion and the traffickers and mercenaries who defied the power of women.

–How about you? - Tsukuyo changed the tone to a certain melancholy -What the hell happened to you?

- It's a long story, too long. I am not good at summaries, it is better to take the last volumes of Gintama and reread

-It had to do with your master, right?

-Yes and no. I prefer to keep it with me.

-Well, I understand, that's what I would do. I mean, what I tried to do. But you know what happened anyway.

The silence returned and they could hear the rain falling more gently now, wetting the plants, the sidewalk, hitting the roof and the gutter, running down the window glass, making everything around it damp. The noise, although much smaller than when it started, was now unbearable because it was accompanied by the subject that neither of them liked to talk about: the past.

-You said it was light ...- Gintoki broke the silence minutes of Tsukuyo's thoughts that went to the night that Gintoki had fought with Jiraia.

-Light?

-The weight of taking your master ...

She did said that and in the end for Tsukuyo that was what it felt like, the weight of her master who was so giant and strong in the end had become light. All because she became a person strong enough for that.

- It wasn't my case. - Gintoki said thinking to himself about Takasugi's death and goodbye to Shouyou - But then, when it was over, that's where I understood why lightness. I think I was the one who got light after all. It feels like I've carried that weight my whole life.

-It seems so. But regardless of what happened in the past, you managed to carry not only that but all of us together. So when you laugh, we will laugh with you, when you cry we will cry even more with you. Just don't pretend to be a stranger again, don't be mean.

-It seems like something I said to someone a long time ago - he said with a slight smile

-Gintoki - interrupted Tsukuyo in a serious tone, with teary eyes - I know that maybe we are a weight, but, please ... don't disappear. We just need to be on your side, I just need you to be here. I ... I mean, we'll be here to support your nose when you cry. So ...- and in the end who started to cry was the courtesan of death, two tears leaked from her face that was now turned in the opposite direction of Gintoki, so he would not see her face flushed with sincerity along with the sadness of that request that it was choking on her throat for so long.

Gintoki remembered when he said that he would support that woman's runny nose when she cried, that he would make a face worse than hers if that happened. He couldn't see her face but he knew it was time to offer his shoulder and so he unconsciously moved towards her, the movement caught her eye and made her turn to follow the man who was approaching subtly. Gintoki hugged her slowly, holding only one hand up to her back and squeezing a little. He could feel the girl's tears wetting a little of her shirt and neck.

Tsukuyo who was taken by surprise kept her hand down, felt the warmth of Gintoki and his scent of curly hair shampoo, it was simple but it reminded her of how strong he was, made her think how safe she was in those arms. Gradually, she got used to that strong body that embraced her, she felt the big and strong hand on her back squeezing and descending, pulling her body even closer. She felt the man's deep breath next to the heat it transmitted and so, the woman raised her right hand and returned the hug, passing over the broad back that Gintoki had and squeezing, praying that she could belong to him just for that moment.

-Tsukuyo - the samurai breathed deeply, resting on the courtesan's shoulders, causing an instant shiver - I'm sorry.

Gintoki would like to apologize to everyone. He did not think in what order these excuses would be, even though he knew that he did nothing wrong, he wanted to keep everyone away because of the danger; He was afraid of losing any of them. But when he saw Tsukuyo he remembered why he should ask for forgiveness. He ended up not acting as he believed, he didn't let others participate of his life, he didn't let anyone help him. He then thought to himself, smelling the innumerable female perfumes of yoshiwara mixed with the tobacco that the kiseru produced, that if he could lessen their suffering at least a little, if he could ease the sadness of all his friends he would do. ..and the person who came to remind him to do this was one of those who needed him most, she was someone who never asked for anything in return for his company. The woman for whom Gintoki felt an attraction that had not changed over time, her body and her lines were in front of him, with the hand that hugged he also felt the waist well marked, against the chest he felt the heat and the shape of the breasts, on his shoulders he felt that woman's small but strong hand. At the same time, he remembered that he couldn't make her happy, even with his body wanting her so bad.

Tsukuyo in other hand felt her heart explode, even after so long it was him, no matter how, he was the one that she loved. She didn't ask for anything in return for that love, just by knowing he was okay it was enough. She wished that moment would last for eternity, that she would merge with him and live there. She wanted to feel his breath with each oxygen exchange; she wanted to keep that smell for the rest of her life. First, she wanted to kiss him, she wanted him to love her right there on that couch; she wanted this dream not to end. She could not fight that feeling only reinforced when they met.

The two began to contour each other's body with the hand they embraced. Gintoki sank his hand deeper and deeper into Tsukuyo's curve until he reached her hip, the other arm that had previously been in the white kimono showed up and took the other part of the courtesan's back up to her head and taking possession of her body. He couldn't avoid to thinking about the danger that was there in that room, but his blood began to flow and the heartbeat accelerated, he remembered when he went to bed with the courtesans during the war and knew that state, things would not end  well. Tsukuyo also started to lose control and sank her breath into Gintoki's neck that stood on end; her left hand was now in his curly hair, squeezing it gently in the urgency of belonging while her right hand went through the back muscles making it clear the will to rip that black shirt. With both noses and mouth exhaling hot air on each other's necks and rubbing against each other, with eyes closed and breathing deeply. The desire was now the biggest noise in the room.

...

Kondou felt the rain tightening, accelerated his steps but enough so that Otae could keep up.

-Kondou-san, I think we should stop for a while.

-If we stop, it may not be on time.

-I think I am slowing you down, please go ahead.

-No, please! I will not leave you here in this rain.

-Well, then there's no way.

They stopped under the eaves of a cafe. Kondou closed the umbrella while Otae removed the water droplets from his yukata.

-Who would say that in Edo it would rain like that again.

-Again? - Otae said curiously

-It looks like that day when I left Edo, when you loaned me the umbrella. You probably don't remember ... I always thought about when I could return that gesture, so much happened later and even if the normal had returned I had no hope, after all I was the stalker anyway, there was no reason for me to show up and you want to follow me.

Kondou turned around smiling gently, expressing no second intention or hysterical tone.

-But apparently, miracles do happen. Maybe that's why it's raining today.

Otae was not carried away by the gorilla's words; she knew too well that he was fantasize about the beginning of a romance. But she knew there, from her experience with men, that Kondou-san was being sincere and above all kind. That was why she hates him, such a kind man had decadence as his destiny. Moreover, that's why she adores him, only such a kind man was able to love her that way.

-I already said there is no miracle. I just thought it prudent to accompany the pet gorilla ... and by the way, you got wet and haven't dried yourself yet.

Otae took her handkerchief from her pocket and passed the gorilla's shoulder that made the happiest face in the world. Perhaps it was not a miracle at all, nor was it something of fate. Just a coincidence, a happy coincidence. The Shinsengumi commander thought to himself that this rain could last forever, that that moment could never end. You would get wet forever in that rain.

-Ah, Kondo-san, the rain is already passing!

-...

-Kondou-san?

-Sis, the rain has not passed. Now it's a rain of blood that started ...

Blood came out of Kondou-san's buttocks thanks to the killing blow that Shinpachi took with his sword from the lake toya. Shinpachi witnessed the two there at the eaves and soon understood: the gorilla attacked again. It was up to the brother complex to speak up and defend the honor of the Shimura.

-Ah! Kondou-san, it looks like Shin-chan has finally caught me up, so I'm going with him. See you later gorilla.

-Goodbye Kondou-san.

Therefore, the gorilla's sweet illusion lasted a rain and ended with a bokuto tucked into his ‘kestuno ana’. Which for him was enough to dream the rest of those days with his beloved Otae.

…

Delirious and rolling eyes, feeling their breathing increasingly wheezy and close to each other's faces, when their noses brushed their faces looking for their mouths along the cheekbones, the world stopped at Yorozuya. There were two people there who knew that they would not be together and become a family, dying next to each other, but what could they do with the feeling that was left?. One was the body and the other the heart. A combination that would never work. Without hearing the world outside as they almost became one in that embrace, the front door slamming suddenly interrupted them.

-Gin-chan, Catherine's old gag wants to know if you're not going to show up because if you're not she’s going to eat your share...

Gintoki and Tsukuyo were each at the end of the sofa now, the separation was as fast as possible. Gintoki gave a fake laugh as well as Tsukuyo, as if they had been in conversation for a long time, but the faces red as a tomato did not deny the previous scene.

-Tsukki !! you are here! Is everything all right?

-Oh! Kagura! It’s been a while! Everything is fine, I've just arrived, I came to leave these gifts from Hinowa. Sweets are for you eat as you please. Seita misses you, you could visit us ... -Tsukuyo started to speak trying to cool the blood and forget Gintoki's breath and smell

-Tsukki, is everything okay? Hey Gin-chan, you didn't do anything to her, did you?

-How would I do anything? Didn't you hear what she said? That she just arrived?

-Good! This is my home and my establishment, now I’m the president, any lack of respect with my customers is unforgivable!

-YOU SELF HAS BEEN DECLARED PRESIDENT! NOBODY CHOSEN YOU

-AND SINCE WHEN THAT’S HOW IT WORK? THIS IS NOT A COUNTRY, IT IS A COMPANY. BUT IF YOU WANT TO VOTE YOU CAN VOTE, YOU WILL LOSE IN ANYWAY

Tsukuyo completely forgot what had happened, forgot the two years that they spent away from each other and could remember why Gintoki was so special, why he was a man who would not make a family. He already had one, without wanting to use a title for it, those were the people he fought for and she was naturally part of that family.

-Gintoki, Kagura, I'll be back with more time. The rain has subsided and I need to get back to work.

-But Tsukki you didn't even stay! Wait until the rain passes

-It's okay, I really need to go.

So she went to the door, put on her boots without looking back, without saying goodbye, without facing the man she loved again. She thought to herself: the rain had finally stopped.

[insidethemindofk]

Heartbreak is a Motherfucker

To whoever is reading this, welcome to my blog!

For this blog post, I share with you an excerpt I simply like to call Heartbreak is a Motherfucker, because that's exactly what it is.

As a note, listen to Drew Barrymore by SZA as you read. Lyrics are mentioned in italics.

Enjoy!

Won’t you shut up, know you’re my favorite, 

Am I?

Warm enough for ya, outside baby, yeah..

Is it, warm enough for ya, inside, me, me, me, me..

Warm enough for ya, outside baby, yeah..

Warm enough outside, inside, me, me, me, me..

As the lyrics of Drew Barrymore by SZA played, making its way through my headphones into my ears, I cried so many tears of sadness, it seemed never ending.

Never in a million years did I think I would be able to experience a pain such as this, yet, here I am.

Heartbreak.

For lack of better words, it's a motherfucker.

I guess this is the cost of vulnerability, and taking the risk of putting your heart in someone else's hands. Because when you take such a brave step, you do so in the strong hopes that the person you gave it too, won't fuck up and break it.

Sorry, I just need to see you, I’m,

Sorry I’m so clingy, I don’t mean to be a lot..

You wish that such a horrible thing could be unavoidable, but with every risk there is a consequence. Is this mine?

Now, at this point of dwelling in my agony, I start to blame and question not only myself, but everything. Every moment, every memory, every. single. intimate detail that has transpired between us. Wondering if it was all just a lie. A big waste of time.

I'm sorry I'm not more attractive,

I'm sorry I'm not more ladylike,

I'm sorry I don't shave my legs at night..

Was I at fault? Did I do or, say the wrong thing? Why wasn't I enough? What about me wasn't good enough for you? Did you mean all those things you said to me? Or was this another episode within the figment of my imagination where I pretended this was my reality.

Do you, really wanna love me down like you say you do?

Give it to me like you say you do?

I sit in my room for hours on end, not bothering to check the time that feels as though it does not exist. I feel a sharp pain in my chest, is that my heart breaking perhaps? 

I mourn what once was, saddened that it was in fact, too good to be true. I wish the happiness you once gave to me could have lasted a lifetime, oh my god, I was truly mistaken to hope for such a thing! 

Now what has replaced those smiles and joy is a blank face, staring into the darkness of my room feeling empty, shocked & numb. 

I was caught in your grasp, totally unable to free myself from you. I knew the day would come where I would be able to fly away, as free as a bird. But who knew that escaping the strong hold you once had over me would put me in such a place of despair and misery?

Do you really love me?

Or just wanna love me down?

As I struggle to go through this gut-wrenching experience, I am once again reminded of all those in the past who have hurt me, such as you. So many feelings are swarming in, rattling around in my brain. Fighting for the top spot of controlling my range of emotions.

I get so lonely I forget what I’m worth,

We get so lonely we pretend that it’s worse,

I’m so ashamed of myself, think I need therapy..

Inadequate. Worthless. Unlovable. Unattractive. Sadness, Hurt and Pain.

The whispers start to come in, and my head aches as I try to fight them out.

"They never would have loved you, and can you blame them? Most people don’t care about black women anyway."

"They only got close to you so they could use you, and dispose of you once they were finished."

"Nothing that happened between you both was ever real anyway. It was all in your head!"

(God, I wish I had a pint of ice cream to chow down on, but this writing will have to suffice.)

When hurtful things happen to me, my brain can be quite harsh to me. Considering this, on top of the fact that I am already suffering, this heartbreaking experience beings to become unbearable.

'Cause it's hard enough you got to treat me like this,

Lonely enough to let you treat me like this..

Going through a heartbreak is different for everyone. For me, the pain is right up there with losing a loved one. I say this because it hurts so much to the point where I can physically feel it manifesting inside of me. The pains in my stomach, and in my chest feel like daggers being thrown, and I am the target.

I’m sorry you’ve got karma comin’ to you,

Collect your soul, get it right..

Slowly falling into a pit of despair, I begin to wonder if it is even possible to survive a blow such as this.

But, it is in this moment that I must, I must remind myself of the strength that exudes itself from within me.

I have been through a great deal in my short life. I have lived, LIVED, through my fair share of grief and pain. In the end, I always come out on top, stronger, smarter and better than before.

This time will not be any different.

A wise person once told me "it's gotta hurt before it can heal!" They're right.

As the hours turn into days, and the days turn into weeks; which in part turn into months and then years.. I will look back on this moment, and at that, with a smile. Because sunshine always comes after the storm. While the time passes, the pain will subside as I return to the new improved version of myself. One who has dealt with all sorts of pain, sorrow and hardships and despite it all; overcame.

Heartbreak is not forever, only a temporary (yet painful) feeling. Since it is temporary, that simply means that it will pass. 

It. Will. Pass.

Warm enough outside, inside, me, me, me, me..

[hotoffthepressfics]

Teach Me How to Dance with You

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 4,832

Summary: After a botched mission the Reader tries to get closer to Bucky, but can she get passed his trauma and get close to the man underneath?

Warnings: Injury and violence, angst, fluff

Chapter Soundtrack:

“How ‘Bout a Dance?” - Laura Osnes

“Teach Me How to Dance With You” - Causes

“Try a Little Tenderness” - Frank Sinatra

A/N: Hands down, my favorite fic I’ve ever written. I hope you all enjoy this super fluffy piece. 💕

Distant rumbling shakes the destroyed building. Small clumps of concrete drop like hail. The heavy slab of wall shifts lower, putting more pressure on your pinned leg. You groan in pain; your brain scrambling to figure a way out. You had tried to contact the others, but your comm had been damaged in the explosion.

The mission was supposed to be straightforward. Clear out the Hydra cell, take back any intel gathered. Except that someone had been ready for you.

The ground shakes again as more aftershocks roll through the vicinity. The wall moves another inch lower. You scream this time, the pain becoming unbearable. You wonder briefly if this is where you’ll die when you hear someone shouting. You crane your neck to see who’s coming. A dark figure cautiously creeps through the dust and smoke, body in a battle ready stance.

“I’m – here! Please, help me!” Your voice grates against your throat, coughing as you inhale to speak.

The figure zeroes in on you, quickly approaching. It dawns on you that perhaps this wouldn’t be an ally, but an enemy. If it was an enemy then at least this pain would be over soon.

Relief floods your veins as soon as a certain super soldier’s features come into view. His eyes widen in recognition and he drops to your side.

“Y/N! Can you move?” Bucky asks, assessing your predicament.

You shake your head.

“No, my leg’s pinned. The wall fell as soon as the chaos started and I wasn’t fast enough to move out of the way.” You answer a bit ruefully.

You’re suddenly aware that the pain in your leg has subsided. In fact, all sensation of feeling is muted as you attempt to wiggle your toes. You fight the rising panic.

“I’m gonna lift this up and you need to move out from under it. You got that?” Bucky instructs.

You nod and brace your hands against the floor. Bucky positions his hands underneath the rubble and lifts, his metal arm whirring with the force needed to move the heavy object. As soon as it’s high enough you pull and kick with your good leg until you’ve slid clear of the debris. Bucky drops the slab to the floor.

It was like someone had dropped hundreds of fire ants down your leg, the sudden rush of blood tripling the dulled pain. You hold your breath, trying not to scream. Small black dot swim in your vision. You’re dimly aware of someone speaking, the agony making it hard to focus on anything else.

Without warning you feel yourself become weightless as two arms lock beneath your back and knees. The jostling movements as Bucky carries you quickly from the scene renew the pain in waves. You whimper pathetically and beg him to stop.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I know it hurts, but we have to get you out of here. I promise, when this mess is over I’ll do whatever you ask, doll.”

You whimper again but nod and press your face into his shoulder, the coolness of the Vibranium soothing on your fevered cheek. You hear Bucky speak again.

“I’ve got Agent Y/L/N. She’s injured pretty bad. We’ll rendezvous at the quinjet.”

Steve responds though you don’t catch it. Bucky moves quickly, taking care not to jostle you too much. You attempt to keep your whimpers and groans to a minimum, though the trek to the jet feels like an eternity. As you two come up to it Steve careens around a corner and ushers you in.

Bucky sets you onto a seat and begins strapping you in as Nat, Sam, and the rest of the team barrel into the jet. Steve walks over to you. He kneels to inspect your wound, gingerly lifting the torn cloth and prodding the flesh beneath.

“What happened?” He asks you, his piercing blues staring up at you.

“Explosion… concrete wall…boom.” You weakly mimic the slab falling down with your arm. Your head lulls to the side. “Couldn’t move.”

Steve hums in understanding and resumes his examination. He nods once.

“The good thing is the skin isn’t broken, but you could be bleeding internally. Not to mention that the bone might be broken. Fractured at the least.” He says, a little relieved though still a bit grim.

Now that eminent danger was diverted the adrenaline was wearing off. Your eyes feel heavy and you struggle to keep them open. They drift close and Steve digs his thumb into your wounded leg. You yelp and yank away from his grasp, eyes snapping open to glare at him. He grins repentantly.

“Sorry Y/N, but we need to you stay awake until we can get you properly checked.”

“Well then, stop probing my poor leg and get this thing in the air already!” You whine, a little too petulant. You were hurt; you were allowed to be a little childish.

He leaves you be and begins giving commands to head back to the tower. Bucky takes the seat to your left and straps himself in. You incline your head towards him, trying to focus on his movements to stay awake. When he’s finished he rests his hand against his thigh, waiting for lift off.

You study his hand for a moment. On instinct you reach for it. Bucky pulls back the second your fingers make contact with his skin, but then he turns his hand over and laces his fingers with yours.

Silence passes between you two for a beat, then you mumble, “Dancing.”

Bucky cocks his head towards you, one eyebrow quirked. “What?”

“You said… you would do.. anything I asked. I want… you to.. dance with me.” You pant, the effort to remain conscious taking its toll.

He smirks and narrows his eyes at you, “Any particular reason for that request?”

You clumsily shake your head, eyes dropping closed. A sharp pain spreads over your cheek. You crack open your left eye and scowl. Bucky’s smirk widens and releases his hold on your pinched cheek.

“Alright, it’s a deal.”

•••

Recovering from you injury was a bitch. The silver lining had been that, thanks to Tony’s fancy, high – tech machines, you’d be able to walk again. The dark cloud had been the endless, and oh did you mean endless, weeks of healing and physical therapy.

A super soldier with incredible healing abilities you were not. Damn them.

No matter the struggle, you’d been determined to make a fast recovery. Tony Stark’s annual Avengers Gala has been two months away. Normally that wouldn’t interest you much, but this time was different. This time you had the procured promise from one Winter Soldier for a dance.

You recall the night you’d found a somber Rogers nursing a glass of whiskey, though it didn’t do much for him. You’d sat and listened to him reminisce about the good ol’ days. He told you how Bucky would try to set him up on dates and force him to go dancing. Steve bragged about how light on his feet Bucky used to be. He could sweep any dame he wanted off onto the dance floor and she’d be his. However, once he’d come back he never indulged in such things anymore. He figured Bucky felt he didn’t have a right to, after all the damage he’d caused.

It made your heart ache. After all he’d been through Bucky deserved more than the self – hatred he’d been made to feel. You wanted to give him back a piece of himself, even if for a moment. The problem was you’d just never had the nerve to broach the subject with him.

Until the accident. Perhaps it’d been the thought of never seeing him again without telling him how you feel, the delirium from your injury, or a bit of both. Whatever the case, you couldn’t stop picturing a scene with just the two of you dancing, Bucky smiling ear to ear. The image was so perfect you could believe you had died. So, without overthinking it, you’d asked him.

You’d been elated when he agreed. You worked hard and it had paid off, and he’d been there to help you initially. However, as the weeks went by Bucky became more reclusive. A dark shadow seemed to hang off of him, and it made you nervous. The Gala couldn’t come at a better time.

Now you sit in your wheelchair impatiently waiting for the elevator to take you down to the party. You smooth your hands over your curls and down to your white dress skirt, fiddling with the twin splits up to the tops of your thighs where intricate lace peaked through. You could walk now, in short bursts, but you couldn’t pass up the little show you could put on once you joined in the partying.

The elevator doors ding and slide open to reveal a very sophisticated Natasha. She wore a form – fitting, slate gray dress. Her fiery red hair is piled high on her head, little ringlets falling to frame her face. She looks stunning, as always. Nat whistles when you come into view. You roll your eyes but you grin widely. As you both settle into the descending compartment you shiver. Your veins buzz with the nervous anticipation.

“Are you ready?” Nat asks as she grips the handles for your wheelchair.

“Umm, excited, yes. Ready?... I’m not so sure yet.” You respond.

Nat pushes you out of the elevator and towards the double doors at the end of the hall. She steadies the seat as you stand.

“It’s going to be great, now get in there!” She encourages.

You take one last deep breath, roll back your shoulders, and waltz in. Your first steps are little wobbly, and you question for a moment if wearing the heels had been a good idea. You find your balance though and walk a little more confidently.

The event is in full swing. Civilians and agents mill about, chatting, laughing, and schmoozing the other Avengers. So many beautiful people but you are only interested in finding one in particular. As your eyes scan the crowd Steve steps in front of you, arms spread wide to take you all in. A beaming smile splits his face.

“Look at you! It’s good to see you are up on your feet again.” He exclaims, wrapping you up in a giant bear hug.

You laugh softly and return the embrace.

“Thanks, it’s good to be able to move around on my own. Have you seen…” you let the sentence trail off, slightly embarrassed to be so intent on the task at hand.

Steve pulls away and chuckles softly. He stands to the side and points to the bar in the far right corner.

“He’s over there. It took a lot to get him dressed and down here, so he’s brooding over a glass of bourbon. Seeing you might cheer him up though.” Steve pats your back good naturedly and steps behind you to greet Natasha.

Your heart flips inside your chest at the sight of him. Bucky looks stunning in the black, tailored suit. His dark, shaggy hair slicked back from his face. He turns his head at that moment to gaze out at the crowd. A small strand of hair falls rebelliously over his forehead, making him look a little more vulnerable than usual. As if attracted to your gaze his dazzling blue eyes lock onto yours. Your spirits dampen a little at the dark circles under them, his look a little hollow.

You begin to make your way over to Bucky, but every few feet someone stops you to congratulate you on your recovery and make small talk. Your gaze drifts back to Bucky every now and then. He had turned back around, hunched over the bar.

After what felt like an eternity you finally made it over. You lean against the counter and shift your body towards Bucky, beaming up at him. He continues to bore holes into the countertop. The circles under his eyes appear much worse this close up. Your smile falters a bit. You reach up for his hand.

"Hey, are you okay?" You squeeze your fingers around his metal palm.

His eyes flick up to your face, breaking himself out of his daze. He inhales deeply and adjusts his stance, drawing his hand out of yours in the process. You try not to let your disappointment show.

"Yeah, I'm great. Couldn't be better." He states flatly, a small lopsided grin forming but it doesn't reach his eyes.

He looks a little wild, like an animal caged and in desperate need to flee. You study him silently for a moment before you attempt to reach out to him again. Placing a gentle touch against his shoulder you try once more to get him to confide in you.

"I just... I'm worried about you." You hope your eyes convey the feeling and sincerity in your words.

Bucky holds your gaze for a beat before he scoffs.

"No need to worry about me, doll. I'm as fine as a warm, summer day in July." He takes a swig of his bourbon, grimacing as it burns down.

He returns to sullenly staring at the counter. You watch him sadly, letting your hand drift slowly down his metal arm. You feel each ridge through his suit. The band changes songs and your mind registers the slower tempo. Your smile regains its strength and you renew your efforts to draw Bucky away from the bar.

"Come on, I think I know a way to cheer you up" Your voice eager as you turn to pull him to the dance floor.

The farther you walk away, however, you feel Bucky's hand disappear from your hold. You slowly spin back and watch as Bucky pushes off the bar counter and heads to the exit, dragging his glass along the top. When he reaches the edge, he throws back his head and downs the rest of his alcohol. The glass clinks against the surface as he sets it back down and leaves through the doors you had entered.

You stand there at a loss, your high spirits quickly deflating. You knew it was silly to think so, but it felt like all eyes were on you and had witnessed your spectacular failure. A hand brushes against your shoulder and you jump. You look up at Steve's sympathetic face. At least one person had seen. He holds out his hand to you.

"I may not be as good a partner as him, but could I have this dance?” Steve asks.

You force a small smile and place your hand in his, your vision becoming blurry with unshed tears. He leads you to the dance floor and pulls you into position. You allow him to lead you through the song, eyes downcast at your feet.

"Hey."

You glance up to Steve's face. He smiles gently. "Give him some time, he's going through a bad spell."

You cast your eyes to the floor once more, saying nothing. The band closes the song and Steve tucks your arm through his, leading you around the room to mingle. You put on a brave face, being polite and friendly. A little while later Sam asks you to dance and you nod, pulling away from Steve. It's enjoyable and you appreciate their kindness in trying to cheer you, but you just want to wallow in self – pity. After an hour passes you decide enough time has passed to make excuses and retreat to your bedroom.

Everyone urges you to stay and revel a little more but you blame your departure on your healing leg and bow out. It wasn't a complete lie; a slow ache had begun in your muscle. Only when the elevator doors slide close do you allow yourself to shed the tears you'd been holding at bay. Some enchanted evening this turned out to be.

•••

Bucky shoots up off of his bed as his nightmare jolts him awake. He pants heavily, blinking to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He looks down at his chest; the white dress shirt he'd passed out in clinging to his form from the sweat pouring off of his body. Bucky flops back down on the mattress breathing slowly to calm his rapidly beating heart.

It was just a nightmare. It wasn't real. Y/N is safe.

Probably. He hoped you were safe. He'd retreated from Stark's asinine party to ensure you'd be safe. From him.

The nightmares weren't an unusual thing. They'd plagued him since he'd come out of being the Winter Soldier. His past misdeeds coming back in pieces to haunt him. Now, though, they had begun to morph. Making Bucky believe he might be responsible for everything that failed in missions against Hydra. He had been their assassin after all. Couldn't they still find a way to control him?

They now begun to convince him he had caused the explosion that hurt Y/N. His relief had been so instantaneous when he'd found her that he'd wanted to do nothing more than hold her and keep her safe. He had determined to get closer to her when they got back. Then the nightmares made him realize how wrong he'd be for Y/N. Bucky had nothing good to offer her; just heartache and pain.

Since then he'd started distancing himself from her. He had intended never to set foot downstairs tonight, but Steve had been so adamant he attend Bucky couldn't really say no. The moment Y/N walked into the room he'd wanted to pull her close and never let go. She looked so radiant, and when she'd seen him? That smile would keep him warm for days. Bucky loathed how much he'd enjoyed her touch. She was too good for him. She didn't understand the things he'd done, not really. Which is why he'd needed to leave.

Here in his quiet room Bucky could strengthen his resolve to let her go. He swallows, the saliva sticking to his parched throat. He needed another drink, though it did nothing really. Just quenched a thirst. Figuring the party had long ended he makes his way back downstairs to the bar.

He's surprised to find Steve sitting alone at the bar when he arrives. Steve pours and downs a series of shots attempting to get enough alcohol in his system to generate a buzz. Bucky slides into the seat next to him and pours himself a shot. Steve glances over and snorts. He shakes his head in disapproval.

"You're a real jackass, you know that?" Steve says, a tinge of anger to his voice.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Not that I'm disagreeing, but what is it for this time?" He challenges.

Steve inclines his head to stare at Bucky for a moment. He shakes his head again and throws back another shot.

"If you really aren't aware then maybe don't make promises you don't intend to keep. My god, you didn't have to see her face. It was like you'd kicked a puppy.”

Bucky furrows his brows. Now he was really confused. He downs his own shot and slams it onto the counter.

"Kicked a puppy? What the hell are you talking about?" He demands.

"Y/N! She'd been working so hard to be able to dance with you tonight but your head is so far up your ass that you can't appreciate all that effort. A beautiful woman wanted to make you happy, but you're too busy focusing on sulking. I'm certain she's given up now." Steve brings the glass to his lips but thinks better of it. He sets the glass back down.

Bucky sits stunned. The alcohol he'd just consumed churning uncomfortably in his stomach. He had made Y/N that promise, hadn't he? That's where she'd been trying to lead him tonight but he'd been too stubborn to notice. He had wanted to keep her safe, not hurt her with his perceived callousness. Bucky rests his head against the counter, exhaling loudly.

"I'm an idiot." He admits to Steve.

Steve hums in agreement. Bucky needed to make this right, at least for Y/N's sake. He lifts his head and gazes at his lifelong friend.

"Help me fix this?" He asks.

"How?" Steve stares at him one eyebrow cocked in question.

Bucky mulls it over for a minute, an idea formulating. He smirks and says, "Do you think you have a way of getting onto Stark's landing platform?"

•••

You had gone to bed hours ago but sleep was far from you tonight. You'd wept heavily and though the tears had stopped flowing your depressed mood kept replaying the disaster of tonight over and over, trying to discover what you'd done wrong. To top it all off, you really had overdone the walking. The dull throbbing of over exertion radiating up your thigh, adding to your misery.

It'd all been for nothing.

You thought sadly. You could get up and take some pain killers, but you decide to use the pain to indulge in your pity party.

A soft knocking sounds at your door. You ignore it hoping whoever it is will assume you'd fallen asleep and leave you alone. A minute passes before the action is repeated. Again, and again. The fourth time you sigh in frustration. You'd think they'd get the hint! You sit up in bed pulling the covers up to your hips before you lean over and switch on your beside lamp.

"Come in." You grumble trying to infuse as much annoyance into your voice as possible.

You weren't really sure who you'd been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been Bucky. You glance down at his feet as he stands in the doorway, unable to meet his gaze. Neither of you says anything for a moment. Beginning to feel awkward you clear your throat.

"Is there something you want, James?" You rarely used his given name, but your feelings were still raw from his snub. Endearing nicknames were not what you wanted to use right now.

When he still doesn't respond you huff and shift away from him, flinging the covers over yourself. You really didn't want to play games. You hear his footsteps approach and travel across to the other side of the bed. You shut your eyes as soon as you feel the covers slide down your head and body. Another moment of silence passes. Finally, Bucky sighs and murmurs,

"Y/N, please look at me."

You want to refuse him, but curiosity won out. You slowly open your eyes and peer up at him, hoping the puffiness from your bout of crying isn't noticable. Bucky kneels, carefully picking up your hands and gingerly holding them against his firm chest. You feel the steady rhythm of his heart underneath. You glance at your joined hands than back up to his face, eyebrows quirked in confusion.

"I want a do over." He says finally, "I'm a complete idiot, I know. I need you to understand that I never wanted to hurt you. I made you a promise, and I never break my promises. Just ask Steve." He winks and grins widely, trying to alleviate the tension.

His mood swings were starting to make you feel like you were on a roller coaster. One moment he was sweet as honey towards you, the next he was acting like he wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole. It was getting tiresome.

"James..." You pull at your hands but they remain firm in his grasp. You inhale a shaky breath, tears pricking your eyes anew.

You drop your gaze to your body lying on the bed. You had wanted to give him one perfect night. The gift of one good memory out of so many bad ones. Now instead of the gorgeous gown you’d been wearing you were dressed in a plain chemise. Your curled hair brushed out, not to mention your face. It was scrubbed clean of makeup, a combination of you washing or crying it off. No, this was not how you had pictured yourself appearing when you made this memory. You offered a more practical excuse than this however.

"James, it's too late. I wanted tonight to be special for you, but I can't even stand right now. I – I overdid it tonight. My leg is killing me and I'd be useless as a dance partner." You laugh bitterly.

Bucky is quiet for a few seconds, his thumbs grazing the backs of your hands lazily. You can physically see the lightbulb go off in his head when he gives you a sly grin.

"I can work around that."

•••

After a little more convincing on his part, you agree to Bucky's do – over. He cautiously scoops you up and carries you bridal – style out into the hallway. Just as he had the day you'd been injured, although this time was much more pleasant.

Inside the elevator you rest your head on his shoulder, content to be close to Bucky like this. You let your eyelids shut for a moment, soothed by his even breathing. The elevator dips as it stops. You’re aware of the gentle sway as he resumes walking but you keep your eyes closed, trusting him.

“Open your eyes, doll.” Bucky whispers softly.

You comply, looking up at his face before shifting your gaze outwards. Your breath is taken by the sight.

Amid the stars and city lights below Tony’s landing pad twinkles with flashing lights. A soft wind blows a few strands of hair across your face as Bucky moves you out onto the center of it. The blinking lights illuminate you both. It was like you’d stepped out into the middle of the sky, surrounded by the tiny celestial bodies.

Lost in your wonderment you’re caught by surprise as Bucky gently drops your legs. He easily catches you by your waist before your feet even touch the ground, careful not to put weight on your healing leg.

He draws you closer, placing your feet atop his as the sound of an old forties song begins to play around you. You hold Bucky’s gaze with wide eyes, speechless.

“I know it’s a little late, but may I have this dance?” He asks in earnest.

You can only nod shyly. He smirks and wraps his metal arm around your middle, supporting your weight as he moves his feet to sway to the music.

As the music continues you laugh quietly, a little giddy from the whirlwind of emotions you’d felt that night. You press your cheek against his shoulder. Trying to memorize the feel of his arm pressed to your back. The soft material of his dress shirt wrinkled beneath your hands. The words of the music playing. You feel Bucky’s breath whisper against your ear.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize my mistake. I just… didn’t want you hurt because… of what I am. What I’ve been.” He admits.

You lift your head to stare into his clear blue eyes, the low light deepening them. Suddenly you’re aware of the hidden emotion in them, afraid of what they’ll find in your returning gaze. He was opening himself up to you, part of him expecting you to reject him. You notice his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, uncomfortable with your scrutiny.

You smile sweetly, placing a gentle hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone. His eyes flutter closed as he presses his face into your palm, so touch starved.

“Everyone was some darkness in their past, Bucky. You, Nat, Steve, Sam… even me. You can’t dwell in it forever, but if you must then let me stay in that darkness with you.” You intone quietly.

Bucky doesn’t respond, letting your words work themselves into his mind. The song slows and he dips you. You let your knees bend with the motion, holding his gaze. Without much thought you lean up and press your lips to his.

You would have thought you’d prodded him with a taser the way he jumped back. So caught off guard he drops you flat on your back, breaking the magic of the moment. You burst into laughter as Bucky swears and drops to his knees, apologizing. He scoops you into his lap, running his hands along your body, inspecting if he’d hurt you.

“I’m fine, Bucky. I’m a little sturdier than that. A little fall isn’t going to kill me.” You grasp his face between your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“You’re a good man, James Buchanan Barnes. I believe in you, even if you don’t.” You say gently.

He glances down a moment, his hands trailing along your waist as he draws you closer.

“I’m beginning to understand that.” He says just before he captures you lips once more in a burning kiss.

EVERYTHING TAGLIST:

@booktvmoviefangirl @lowkeybuckyb @mrsdaamneron @xxashy999xx @c-ly-g @coal000 @rroguebones @ghostlyrose2 @part-time-patronus @emelielwh @peaceinourtime82 @buckysforeverprincess @geeksareunique @amnahs9695 @v-2bucky @scarlet-skywalkers @lokilvrr @thisismysecrethappyplace @sacre-bluhm @tatertot1097 @until-theend-oftheline @amoonagedaydreamer @marvelouspottering @thatfanficstuff @chuuulip @averyrogers83 @ellaprime68 @shield-agent78 @jewels2876

BUCKY BARNES TAGLIST:

@bloodiedskirtts @igotkatiepowers @misplacedorphan @superwholockwannabe @moonstruckhargrove @ladysergeantbarnes

[traiinedhard-a]

[ CHARACTER STUDY; SAITAMA & GENOS ]

THE FOLLOWING ANALYSIS CAN GO EITHER PLATONICALLY VIEWED OR ROMANTICALLY FOR THE DUO. i don’t care how you interpret it. go nuts! just know this is long as fuck.

I’m so GLAD Genos and Saitama have each other now. Without each other,,, genos would be wrecklessly trying to push himself to the point of near death and saitama would be wallowing in his own depression but now saitama has something to look forward to talking wise and genos has someone who cares so much about his well-being that he refuses to let him try and basically kill himself like the way he used to. now genos has someone who actually worries if he'll make it through a fight instead of just trying to self destruct at everything he just about loses to. he has been given a safer and more realistic goal to look forward to and he's become more relaxed. saitama's been able to be more expressive since he's constantly with genos, and he doesn't feel as empty because he feels like he has a reason to live now. it's clear that when they're apart saitama worries endlessly for genos (and once worries that something horrific would happen to genos if he were by himself) but without genos around he immediately goes back to his old, lonely ways and feels so unbearably sad and lonely that even king's like "shit man. u ok". and guess what? the moment he sees genos is safe and not dead or hanging on by a string, he’s IMMEDIATELY far happier and even visibly cheers up, and king’s like “WOAH you look awfully refreshed” and saitama’s like “yeah dude my head’s suddenly clear” and if that isn’t love then i don’t know what is. 

Of course kuseno cares if genos almost dies, but the thing is, kuseno seems to be just as bent on finding that cyborg as genos is. I feel like... though kuseno still cares for genos PERIOD, he seems to be pretty iffy on the fact that genos has been given more realistic goals to shoot for by saitama and even comments "you're seriously trying to aim for be s rank 1? is that what your master told you to do? what happened to getting vengence against the mad cyborg? where's your passion for that?" and genos is just. shocked and doesn't even reply for a moment and he's like "uh.. i mean.. OF COURSE i still want vengence but i gotta do what sensei wants.." etcBut I do think kuseno notes that this is for the better anyways, iffy feelings or not, because at least genos isn't basiclaly dragging himself in every single week and in tatters, because hell, while genos is strong even when saitama and him first met what was his solution to battles he couldn't win, and even sometimes now? use my core, self destruct, im not worthy of defeating the borg if im losing to this, time to end it, sorry dr kuseno, family, master etc Now Saitama steps in, and I was just REMINDED OF THIS SCENE IN PARTICULAR but like the arc where saitama knocks out genos in the middle of him and sonic’s fight? He was concerned for genos and as someone who rarely expresses concern or care for others, don't you think it's very telling that he stepped in on his own volition to make sure genos didn't get hurt to beat sonic's ass?even sonic comments "are you trying to protect him?" and saitama's like "yeah, of course" and he's clearly getting serious because he doesn't want genos hurt. hell, he even basically ghosted fubuki the moment he saw genos and sonic fighting! saitama really does worry a lot for genos and some of the things he worries about are really concerning..  but this isn't the first time he's been pretty scared for genos. remember the deep sea king fight? he was afraid genos bit the dust there for a it and even visibly relaxes when he finds out genos is okay and he says "Don't ever scare me like that again!" As for the saitama part of things, it's not hard to see the difference of before genos vs after genos. Genos brought color to his world and gave him company, and it's what he claims he never wanted but it's clear how much it helped him. I feel like if it weren't for genos, saitama would be just as shelled up if not more than he used to be -- he didn't really have much of anything to do and it's obvious he was starting to get bored of... life, to put it lightly. But when genos basically asserts himself into his life? he starts to feel again. he's not moping all the time, he has somebody to talk to instead of harmfully isolating himself. he's the kind of guy who was alone with his thoughts for too long -- we get glimpses of it every now and them, but we can clearly tell that he's got a lot of sad emotional baggage. it all stems from being too strong, ofc. but, still, he is DEEPLY troubled by it and life basically lost all meaning for him. any farther and i feel like he would've legitimately felt like existing was useless, though with a body like his i highly doubt he could take... action. And the longer he's alone with his thoughts, the worse he gets, and he just becomes so... mopey. forgive me if i sound repetitive, but like!! genos comes in, and all of that is GONE within a few days. He must've spilled about how lonely he felt to genos at some point before he started getting closer to him -- based on the canon info where saitama actually got genos to cry uncontrollably when he told him how lonely he felt which had to have been some serious shit because. genos does NOT cry. with someone else to keep him away from his thoughts, he started to lighten up. at the beginning of the series it's safe to say he was pretty damn standoffish -- but now? now he's actually attempting to socialize with other people, he actually hangs out with more people whether he wants to admit it or not. He's become a bit softer (not much) to those he doesn't know, and DEFINITELY more expressive -- ESPECIALLY AROUND genos. he's become more thoughtful -- he doesn't mope about his powers much anymore, he does anything and everything with genos because he can talk about it and lose himself in the moment. At least, that's what i like to think. and all around... he's found a new passion for life. the dude isn't just wandering around aimlessly now, he's hanging out with genos and he's living to protect the citizens and genos after he moved in. Yeah, he's always gonna have a strong moral compass and save people, but the joy and the meaning of such actions fall to black and white until genos shows up again. now he's got a reason to keep fighting. he has a reason to get out of bed and feel like his strength means something -- because he can use it to protect others and protect genos even if nobody but genos is thankful of it. As much as he detests the attention he gets from Genos -- think about it, don't you think it helps to have someone think you're not totally useless? That your work does mean something to at least one person even if the world basically gives you the finger? Because I don't think saitama realizes it, but Genos is the one thing keeping him going in the hero job. I honestly think he would have quit when everyone chanted at him to give it up after destroying that meteor if it wasn't for genos -- he saved everyone's lives, and genos was the only one to see it. genos is the one that gets him to calm down and realize that if they don't care, that doesn't matter -- he'd always be there for saitama And anyways, the gist of all this goes back to my first point -- it's amazing that they have each other now, because imagine all the development and all the ways they've been improving just never existing.  Without Saitama,  genos would still be the same wreckless kid trying to throw himself without thought into wreckless battles. Saitama has helped him heed himself on that, and to relax and stop taking everything so seriously. Genos still takes some things too literally., like the 10-20 word limit when talking to saitama, but I feel like half the time, Saitama couldn't really care less.  Without Genos, Saitama would be the same old sad sack of hero he used to be, holed up and his depression worsening because he hardly ever leaves the apartment but for what? Sales? Manga? Sometimes Monsters if he happens to run into them? He doesn't do much of anything and it took a heavy toll on his mental health, but now Genos is there to get him out, to possibly even comfort him or just support him if he needs it. He gets Saitama out of the house, involved ina  lot of other activities, and when Genos isn't around, Saitama... doesn't fare too well at all. //COUGHS LOUDLY@ THE MANGA REFERENCED EARLIER  (( and personally, despite saitama coming off as almost always :^| i feel like the poor guy really really overthinks things. you may think there's nothing going on in there, but his thoughts really are dangerous for him  to be alone with )) Romance or not, there’s no denying this. Like, I DARE anyone to try to say they would be good w/o each other -- I feel like so much of the fandom takes this kinda.. not seriously? It’s not really meant as a dig or anything, but a lot of ppl take what they have for granted.. 

Saitama just wants to be carefree and he’s still very much lax, and even though he knows he’s a shitty teacher, I think that he does a great job of teaching genos that there’s more to life than REVENGE, SELF DESTRUCTION, and FIGHTING. He teaches him to enjoy the little things in life, and Genos rejuvenates his passion for heroism. I feel like Genos wants to be strong physically and that’s why he so heavily admires Saitama, too, but that’s a bit off topic.   It’s something Saitama’s been missing for a long time, and something Genos never had -- he just wants Genos to feel as human as possible, and I feel like he tries all too hard to get Saitama to open up as well. Genos may  not be the best at therapy or whatever, but seeing as he’s the person Saitama is closest to, he definitely does want Saitama to feel like he’s never alone and I just. Cannot stress how IMPORTANT THIS IS. Saitama’s got a history of bottling everything up and avoiding confrontation, But Genos? The cyborg wears his heart on his SLEEVE, even if he probably wouldn’t view it that way himself.  Thanks to him, Saitama can be himself. He doesn’t have to hide away what he really acts like -- not that he cared much for it anyways -- but around genos he can be.. childish. He can be difficult. He can be whatever he wants, and no matter what, Genos will be there to support him. And I really, really admire that. ONE & Murata did them the best justice i’ve ever seenwith a relationship like theirs. And if there was ever anyone to get romantic with for them -- not even as a shipper, but from a story pov -- saigenos makes so much more sense. They bring out the BEST in each other, and they live together, and... well,, THIS post sums up all my feelings on the matter.

Genos wants to help Saitama in whatever way he can. Saitama wants to make sure Genos lives out his life like any normal person would. You get the gist?

sO. IN CONCLUSION, Saitama and genos may not realize it.... but they definitely need each other. Them meeting was for the best of both of their lives -- and without each other there's no way in HELL they'd be doing as good as they are now.

[ryik-the-writer]

Marinara on Main (7/?)

A03

Special thanks to @jenitosam for inspiring me to get back on this one after a year of hiatus 0-o. I have the next few chapters mapped out so I hope to add more to it soon!

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“Yes…very well…thank you,”

Belle frowned as Gold mournfully hung up the phone.

“Astrid will be unable to come today,” Gold sighed. “Said she had a cold.”

Belle groaned. Her chatty physical therapist was clumsy, but her touch was magic, and helped Belle immensely in her recovery process during the past two weeks.

Dr. Whale said if she continued with the physical therapist regularly, she’d be able to return to French Bread’s much early than planned. If she didn’t however, her progress would be unraveled.

“Did they find someone to take her place?” Belle asked hopefully.

“Unfortunately all the other assistants are with other patients,” Gold answered disappointedly. “They won’t be able to send someone over for at least another two days.

Belle took a deep breath to still her frustration. Gold didn’t deserve her ire. He’d been the perfect roommate the last couple of weeks, assisting her with menial tasks like dinner and laundry. By the nights they’d read in the comfort of the living room while Bae played on his phone, sneaking kisses and finger grazes in between chapters.

It was wonderful, but Belle missed her pizzeria and all the misadventures that came with it. She was getting antsy and needed a double dose of stimulation to structure her mind.

Gold watched the crestfallen look on her face, wanting desperately to make her happy. He loved having Belle with him and Bae. Love having dinner with her and swapping out book recommendations. Loved coming home and finding her helping Bae with his homework. Loved laying a blanket over her when she fell asleep on the couch.

She was a part of his home now, and the idea that she would leave as soon as she was able to filled him with never-ending dread. He clung to rationality that it wouldn’t mean she wouldn’t come back over on occasion, and of course they were still dating so they’d see each other all the time.

But not having her here—with her scent in the furniture or little bits of her scattered around the house—felt unbearable.

Yet Belle was in his home now, and unhappy, and that hurt so much more than the possibility of her leaving.

“There is one thing we could…” Gold paused. No, no. They were not nearly that far in their relationship.

“What is it?” Belle inquired hopefully.

Gold grimaced at what he was about to impose. For the first week of Belle’s arrival he’d walked on eggshells, not wanting to make her uncomfortable now that she wasn’t in her own space. He discovered within a few days however that Belle had this amazing ability to make a space hers.

Gold would wake up in the middle of the night to find bowls and spoons from her cooking soaking in the sink. Or books and blankets left in the living room. And even items of her clothing hanging up in the laundry room.

It was beautifully domestic, but Gold didn’t want to allude himself that she would be staying longer than needed. She was young, had a business to run, and they were too early in their relationship to even fathom such closeness.

However, it was a different range of closeness that could possibly make Belle happy.

“I…after my first accident,” Gold said with a gesture to his bum knee. “I had to go through a great bit of physical therapy, and,” he cleared his throat. “I remember a great deal of it. How to do a great deal of it, I mean.”

Belle’s eyebrows arched up in surprise. “You can help me stretch out?”

Gold nearly choked on the lump in his throat.

“I…yes. If you’re okay with that?”

“Yes!” Belle breathed in relief, pushing herself from her chair and locating the yoga mat she did her therapy on. “Let’s get started.”

Gold fidgeted as he stepped closer, charmed and terrified at her boldness. Belle was a do-er, and like him had a business-oriented mindset that left little room for dawdling.

He wondered if that would change should their relationship ever become sexual…

He shook the thought from his mind (and groin) and removed his jacket so that he could better bend for what he was about to do.

“We’ll start with your legs and go from there,” he instructed, kneeling at her feet and carefully easing her leg over his shoulder.

Belle clamped her lips shut to keep from giggling, trying to think of something unflattering as to avoid blushing as red as her painted toenails. How ridiculous she was being! She was living with the man for goodness sake, and it’s not like they were chaste! The had their moments of intimacy since she’d taken up residence here, though they’d been stifled both on the fact that there was a teenager running about and because Belle felt less than sexy having to have her kind of boyfriend help escort her to the bathroom.

However, the second her core brushed against Gold’s shoulder, hiding how beautifully awkward this situation flew off the table.

“Okay?” he inquired, though he didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Mmm hmm,” Belle hummed, sounding as high-pitched as a rubber dog toy to her own ears.

He nodded and slowly rubbed up her calf to her ankle, unsure if it was his fingers or Belle’s leg that was shaking. He slowly lifted her leg from an angle to a straight line, keeping her as still as he could until she let out a small moan.

“Too tight?” he inquired, he and Belle both staring at each other when the words left his mouth.

Belle tried to brush it off, to be mature about the situation, but instead she snorted, and soon was falling back on the floor laughing her ass off.

In a matter of seconds Gold followed, using her leg as leverage to the point where Belle’s pelvis popped and she yelped.

“Sorry!” Gold hissed, pulling back and breathing through his laughter. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Belle replied, sighing deeply. “Just go slower.

Dear God. Gold thought. She’s trying to kill me.

Pizza in Paris. Belle thought. I have such a dirty mind.

“Let’s switch,” Gold instructed, treating her other leg with the same treatment but with less hesitation.

Belle stifled a moan of contentment as they stretched. He really did know what he was doing.

“Time for the arms,” he announced, his voice falling to a husk.

Belle breathed out a sigh as Gold eased her legs down, crawling between them to take hold of her right hand. They locked their hands together and he slowly helped her sit up until her back was straight.

“Any pressure in your back?” He inquired, trying to sound professional even thought his voice was shaking.

“Nope,” Belle smirked, teasingly arching her neck and giving her kind of boyfriend a peck on the lips.

Gold’s brown eyes widened, a small smirk of his own before he returned the kiss. He pulled her closer to him, his opposite hand circling to cradle her back.

“Is this part of the therapy?” Belle inquired naughtily.

“I think we can take a break,” Gold teased, his better leg easing under hers to help her slide into his lap.

“In that case…” Belle laughed, unclenching their hands to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Oh. My. God.”

Belle and Gold shot apart to find Baelfire standing at the door way, his face deadly pale.

“Shit,” Gold cursed, helping Belle untangle herself from him. “Bae, we were—”

“I don’t need you to tell me!” Bae yelped, shooting back and covering his ears.

Belle struggled not to laugh at the obscene awkwardness of the situation but broke when she heard Bae shout somewhere else in the house “on the bloody floor!”.

“I should handle that,” Gold sighed, the deep blush in his cheeks fading as he helped Belle to her feet.

“Indeed,” Belle replied as he helped her sit on the bed. “I’ll call Ruby to see if she can give me a hand. She has the day off.”

Gold paused, a half smirk forming on his face. “Why didn’t you suggest calling her earlier?”

Belle gave him a saucy, all-knowing smile. “Why do you think?”

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 Yeah, so this has nothing to do with pizza ¯\_(ツ)_/¯