#its so annoying because it’s extra time spent fixing

[cherrysnax]

oneee last thing before I try and sleep (lie) one thing abt comics is like. U know ur gonna have to streamline ur designs. But bro. You’re gonna have to do it like six times over before ur can start adding details back

[aurora-starwars]

omg hi!! i really like ur ahsoka fics !! i was wondering if i could request an Ahsoka x f! Reader where maybe ahsoka is uncharacteristically shy around reader & everyone knows soka likes her except reader and one day some clones press her to confess so she confesses her feelings to reader even though she’s all shy and cute? thank you!! (and ofc reader feels the same!) have a nice day/night 💜

To Seek Something Is To Believe In Its Possibility

Pairing: Padawan!Ahsoka x Padawan!fem!reader

Summary: When Ahsoka’s crush on Reader becomes a problem, she is determined to fix it. That doesn’t mean the Clones won’t chime in with their advice…

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Mentions of clone wars, mentions of now dead clones (sorry!), reflection of Coruscant life styles, some wrong Jedi lore, brief mentions of attachments, shy!Ahsoka, fluff? Angst? <3

A/n: This one got away from me…. I completely made up some of the Jedi lore, please tell me if I was wrong at all, I tried to use real canon but it is hard to know everything, but I like learning! Also sorry for it being so long, I just had inspiration and started writing, I want to write more, but no promises! <33333333

Master-list

Time spent in the more deserted wings of the Jedi Temple were where Ahsoka found herself spending the most time as of late when she wasn’t on mission with her master. It was calm, peaceful. It was usually the healing wings that were more on the empty side, but with the Clone War in full effect, the demand for healing was at an all time high. That is why the Healing wing along with the Combat wing were busy with extra training and lessons.

But the Research wing, located near the also rather deserted Library, was much less filled with people. Before the Clone war, before the new threat of the Sith, the Research wing, the library and the Meditation wings were some of if not the most busy wings. But that was before all of the fighting. All of the death, all of the destruction. Now there was a call to fight and less of a call to learn.

Ahsoka found herself on a terrace in the Research wing, her hands clasped and her weight in her elbows as she leaned on the railings. The city around her was alive and awake, as it usually was. She could see the distinct traffic lanes and watched each class of speeder that would go by. Everything seemed so far away, even as close as she was. It was crazy, in retrospect, just how deep the levels of Coruscant go; especially when compared to where the Jedi Temple was standing. She could see the sun beginning to lower, and soon, set. How crazy it was that many just a few levels below couldn’t even see the view she was currently admiring. How unfortunate it was for the many that seemed stuck below the skyline of the enormous city.

Ahsoka sighed, as she found herself doing quite a bit when she made her little trips to this secluded part of the temple. Her head was spinning and it usually did well to watch the world go by around her. Her version of meditation, she figured: one that didn’t require sitting with her raging thoughts. But as she stared out into the distance, she found that she wasn’t distracting her thoughts as much as she wanted and instead she spiralling into thoughts of the world around her.

Ahsoka pinched the bridge of her nose between her eyes and tried to breathe through the headache that was slowly growing.

What brought on this bout of spiralling? Ahsoka wishes it was because of the stress of the war around her, she wishes it was because of the overwhelming death that was happening around her, wishes it was about something truly important. But no.

It was about [Name].

[Name] who was always around her as she was the padawan of Master Kenobi, [Name] who was commander of the 212th army, [Name] who was in the same Initiate clan that she was as younglings, [Name] who seemed to never leave her mind.

Now it wasn’t because she was horrible and annoying or anything. Ahsoka found it quite the opposite actually. [Name] was lovely, kind, witty, respectful, brilliant, smart; Ahsoka could go on forever.

No, the problem was because [Name] was so lovely and attractive that Ahsoka found it hard to function around her.

This should not have been the case. They had grown up together! But this didn’t seem to make any difference, because while they had grown up together, they were never particularly close, partly due to the nervous, childish crush Ahsoka had had on her. But now they fight, train, and learn together. Their master’s are friends and so must be friends. The problem comes that Ahsoka’s “childish” crush has grown into full blown down bad. Fallen-head-over-wedged-boot in love with [Name] [LastName].

Ahsoka groans in frustration at the thought. She has been so awkward and shy when she is around her. Nervously picking at her fingers, twirling her padawan beads around her fingers, watching her boots in order to avoid eye contact, the works. Ahsoka has been wholly unlike herself when in close proximity to [Name], and she so desperately wants to change that.

It was almost embarrassing how obvious her affliction about her affections were. Everyone seemed to have notice, every Clone in both the 501st and the 212th had seen it, both Master Skywalker and Master Obi-wan had seen it, Force, even Barriss Offee had seen it. Her master had taken it upon himself to tease her about it every chance he got, much to Ahsoka’s chagrin. Just the other day Master Skywalker started teasing her about her crush and Rex and the boys started to join in. Something about Master Skywalker’s way of teasing did not involve any discouragement of her growing attachments to [Name], which made Ahsoka very curious.

The reason she was left to her devices today was because the 212nd and the 501st had just gotten back from mission together and they were taking time to rest. The mission did not go as well as they would have wanted due to a misunderstanding between Ahsoka and [Name] that was mostly on part of Ahsoka’s shyness around the girl. This mission was in part a test of how Ahsoka and [Name] could work together and was going quite well until Ahsoka had to give her crush instructions and orders. That is where Ahsoka choked and was not able to relay the information correctly. This was the cause for a set back in the entire mission but apparently [Name] was able to figure it out because they were successful in the end.

It did lead to a rather awkward conversation later though, in which [Name] suggested it best that they spent some time together so that they could bond and be able to better understand each other on missions or in the heat of battle. Ahsoka had agreed, and now they had a plans for a full day of training and meditation together tomorrow, and Ahsoka could not stop thinking about it.

Spiralling was a better word for it.

Ahsoka took a deep breath, this wasn’t working, trying to distract herself here was not working. She tried to think, what would the next best place to go? What would either fix her problem, or distract herself from them?

The 501st.

She was not sure why her first thought wasn’t her mentor, who was supposed to be the one she went to for these things, maybe it was because she figured he wasn’t even at the Jedi Temple, but at the building where the Senators stay, like he seems to be so often.

She stood up straight from her place by the railing and stretched before making her way to the barracks where the clones stayed on Coruscant.

The walk was long but it felt short as it seemed Ahsoka blinked and she was at the door. With a few short but rhythmic knocks at the door, Ahsoka was greeted with Master Skywalker’s back as Rex pressed the button at the side of the door.

Huh, Ahsoka thought, he is not at the senatorial building.

“Well hello, Padawan,” Anakin started with sly smirk, like they had just been discussing her. “How nice of you to join us.”

Ahsoka couldn’t help but squint at him, his face revealing all too much of the previous conversation. “Master, what were you guys just talking about? What are you doing here?”

“I was just discussing with the boys our last mission, care to add anything?”

“What do you mean?” Ahsoka raised a brow, or at least the place a brow would’ve been had she been human.

“Well, my young padawan, I seem to remember a few mishaps that had taken place and I would love to hear your take on it,” His smile was so smug it was almost like he was taunting her, but Ahsoka knew better.

Ahsoka paused for a moment, sure of where this was going and determined to avoid it. “Could you be more specific?”

“I would be talking about your little miscommunication with your good friend [Name]. The boys had a few ideas as to what the reasoning was for this misunderstandings.”

Ahsoka pursed her lips in thought then she crossed her arms over her chest when Rex began to speak.

“I think it is because Commander Tano’s love for the young Jedi Commander [LastName].”

“Oh, do you think so Rex?” Anakin smirked, his arms similarly crossed over his chest, but in contrast Anakin was puffing out his chest in what seemed like pride. He was effectively teasing Ahsoka.

Fives chimed in, “Commander Tano has a crush~,” he teased.

“Oh, shut up,” Ahsoka muttered, hiding her face in her hands. “It was really stupid what happened.”

“And what did happen, Padawan?” Anakin asked, the teasing leaving his voice temporarily.

“Look, she just looked really pretty… Something about the light around her and then she was really close, asking questions. Then she’s in my comms asking for the password that I had memorized, but I was to busy looking at her to actually memorize it. Thankfully she had remembered enough and it was all just so very embarrassing,” Ahsoka finished, her face finding place in her hands again as she groaned in frustration and embarrassment.

The boys looked around at each other in slight amusement but mostly sympathetic looks.

“Look, Ahsoka,” Anakin knelt down next to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “We all make mistakes, trust me, you have witnessed plenty of mine. But what is important is learning from them.”

Ahsoka nodded, her face coming out of her hand as she listened to what Anakin was saying.

“Now, if you are getting distracted by her ‘pretty’ face every single mission, then we are going to have a problem. But if you learn to live around her and with her, you might be able to do more missions where you can look at her face.” Anakin finishes, hoping that Ahsoka catches on to what he is saying.

Ahsoka nods and looks around to all of the faces she sees daily and is comforted by the support the people that surround her give. “Thank you, Master.”

“No problem, my Padawan. Now I must take my leave, but I want you to think on what I said. Maybe talk to her." With that, Anakin waved his hand over the door and walked out, the door making a soft hiss as it closed behind him.

“I think you should tell her you like her,” Jesse chimed in, shrugging.

“Yeah, I think you should let her know how you feel so that you can work together better.” Tup added.

Ahsoka nodded slowly, taking in their advice and their words.

“Don’t let the General know I told you this, but it is better to have less secrets and acknowledge the attachments you have in order to be more efficient dynamic in the battlefield.” Rex noted, looking down at the young Jedi girl with fondness.

Ahsoka smiled shyly, “I should confess my attachments to her?”

The 501st seemed to erupt in sounds of agreement to her words, putting as fond smile on Ahsoka’s face.

“Thank you, guys, really. I needed this,” Ahsoka said, looking around at her friends.

She had made her decision, she was going to confess her affection for [Name] tomorrow, and she will learn how to be better in the field with her.

At the wake of the next morning, Ahsoka was energized and ready to begin the day. She had it all planned out, having gone through it in her head a hundred time as she was falling asleep last night. She was going to train all day with [Name] and after meditating, that is when she was going to open up, effectively confessing.

As she walked to the mess hall, she was repeating her plan in her head, getting lost in the details. She was so lost in her own head that she completely missed that she was walking straight into someone. When she collided with this person’s back she completely lost her balance and took the girl down with her. And only when they were tangled on the floor did Ahsoka recognize who she had knocked over.

[Name].

Ahsoka’s back was on the floor paralleled to [Name] who was also on her back. [Name] started to get up, rubbing her back where she fell.

“Oh, [Name], I am so sorry-” Ahsoka began, before she was cut off by [Name].

“One must always look where they are going,” [Name] spoke in a mock-suave voice full of wisdom. She looked over at Ahsoka and immediately sat up. “Oh, Ahsoka! Just the person I was looking for!”

Ahsoka looked at her was distrust, as if she couldn’t imagine that [Name] sought her out, even if they had made plans the day before.

“I am?” Ahsoka said meekly, and immediately mentally kicked herself for it, that was so not her.

“Of course,” [Name] said simply, standing up and pulling Ahsoka up with her by her hand. “We have plans, remember?” she winked.

Ahsoka looked at her dumbfounded, eyes wide and jaw slack.

“Have you eaten yet?”

Ahsoka just shook her head, scared to trust her own voice.

“Well we must eat then! Let’s go,” [Name] smiled, motioning Ahsoka to follow.

Ahsoka would hate to describe it this way, but she did follow [Name] like a dog all the way to the mess hall.

They ate their food in relative silence, both of them seemingly very hungry and thus there was not much room for discussion.

After they put there trays away, they made their way down to the Combat wing. This was step one of Ahsoka’s plan.

When they arrived, everything seemed to be going well. They had made some simple small talk on the way there and Ahsoka was able to speak in full sentences albeit quiet and insecure. The room they had chosen was empty, save for the supplies within. There was senses covering helmets and the classic wooden batons that they were so used to using.

They assumed their positions and lowered their visors and began.

Their sparing seemed to go on for ages. Sometimes Ahsoka would win, sometimes [Name]. Every now and again they would switch the form they were using or the lightsaber style in order to truly test their skills. After a few hours of this, the two were tired and in much need of a break.

This was Ahsoka’s moment to shine. She brought to one of the quietest rooms in the whole of the Meditation wing and sat down, motioning [Name] to follow. She took a deep breath, trying to centre herself. Bringing her focus to her breathing and eventually the Force. She focused on how it surrounded her, she could feel the hope, the serenity, the peace.

She could also feel the presence in the room that she was trying so hard to ignore, it wasn’t easy to keep her thought away from her when she was so close by.

Her heart started to pick up in speed as she continued to focus on [Name]’s presence. [Name] was serene and calm, but something started to shift as Ahsoka’s anxiety rose.

“Ahsoka, is there something wrong?” [Name] spoke.

Ahsoka was mildly put off by this, thinking [Name] was in deep meditation. “Uh, no?” Ahsoka said warily, her eyes opening.

“Is there something wrong with me?”

“What?” Ahsoka couldn’t help but blurt in her confusion.

“Is there a reason you can’t talk to me?” the look in [Name]’s eye was of disappointment, or maybe it was hopefulness.

“What? Why would you say that?” Ahsoka was completely dumbstruck at the girls words, this was not in her plan.

“You never talk to me and when you do it seems like a struggle.”

“[Name], what? I truly have no reason not to talk to you,” Ahsoka said meekly, her voice small, which she mentally rolled her eyes for.

“Then why don’t you?”

Ahsoka wish she could have just blurted it out, but she got shy. Which she found equally as frustrating as anyone.

“Because… Because… I li- I like… I- Just because… Ugh!” She huffed in frustration, [Name]’s pretty eyes looking at her was not helping her at all. Her pretty hair framing her face and her soft pouting lips weren’t helping either.

“Because?”

In a bout of confidence, Ahsoka reached in the Force for all the comfort and strength she could find, and blurted it all out.

“I like you, [Name]. I really like you. And for some reason I have a hard time talking to you because of it. You are just so lovely, kind, and smart and most upsettingly, breathtakingly gorgeous.” Ahsoka practically announced, ending her declaration in a slump of her head, now watching her apparently very interesting boots. She picked at the skin around her nails as she waited for the reaction of the beautiful girl in front of her,

[Name] was silent for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words. She reached out to pull Ahsoka’s hands away from their active movement, stopping her from picking at her skin.

“Ahsoka… I had no idea,” [Name] said, her eyes wide and a shy smile on her face.

Ahsoka looked up at her, watching as [Name]’s face moved and shifted, she did not seem to be rejecting her. She seems… almost fond, elated.

“Ahsoka, I really like you too. You have always been an important part of my life, even when we were younglings together.”

Ahsoka eyes went wide, and her jaw slack. No way. She couldn’t believe this to be true. [Name] [LastName], the girl she has been in love with pretty much since she became a padawan, likes her back. But it was true, and her proof was sitting right in front of her.

Ahsoka looked down at her hands, which were held by [Name]’s soft hands, and smiled.

“I’m so happy to hear that,” Ahsoka grinned, looking back up into [Name]’s eyes.

“Will you stop being so shy around me now? It’s kind of hard to work together if you are struggling to talk to me all of the time,” [Name] teased, her eyes lighthearted and her words silky.

Ahsoka smirked, “I will try my best, but can you blame me for struggling to function when you are looking this good?” Ahsoka gestured to [Name]’s face and grinned when she saw a faint blush growing on [Name]’s face.

The increasing heat in [Name]’s cheeks gave Ahsoka ideas and before she could stop herself, she had cupped [Name]’s face in her hands. [Name] was quiet for a moment, pensive as she watched Ahsoka’s expressions. Ahsoka wasn’t sure was she was doing, and she wasn’t sure if she would regret it, but it felt right. In the Force, in her mind, and in her heart.

Her eyes started to flutter closed as she slowly leaned closer, closing the gap between the two padawan girls. [Name]’s hands came up to softly hold on to Ahsoka’s wrists, but she made no move stoping the Togrutan girl, instead she leaned in, closing the gap.

Their lips met in a soft and hesitant connection. Their kiss was a reflection of their past relationship, awkward, nervous, confused, and most importantly, full of wanting. The two moved closer, the space between them feeling overwhelming. [Name]’s hands moved to the back of Ahsoka’s neck, bringing them closer.

When they pulled apart, they were both breathless, gasping for air. They let go of each other, hands sliding down each other’s arms and find their place in the other’s hands. They leaned back, looking in the other girl’s eyes as they caught their breath. After a beat, they both started to giggle. The release of the tension was relief to both Ahsoka and [Name], resting their heads against the other.

“We are going to win this war together,” Ahsoka spoke.

“We are going to become Jedi Knights together, thats for sure,” [Name] noted, not optimistically agreeing with Ahsoka’s words.

“You don’t think we are going to win?”

“I know we will be together, like we have been since younglings, that is what I know,” [Name] sighed, she squeezed Ahsoka’s hand.

“I agree, we will be together. But like my master keeps telling me, we will win this war.”

“I am glad Master Skywalker is confident, Master Kenobi is less optimistic.”

“Well then, I am glad to have you by my side, no matter how it ends,” Ahsoka put simply, her thumb rubbing comforting circles around [Name]’s.

Ahsoka was not sure how she had gotten this far, how she had managed to make promises to the person she was so nervous to talk to for the longest time. How she managed to not only use full articulated sentences to the person she likes, but how she was able to effectively kiss the girl she likes and have her kiss back. Ahsoka mentally fist pumped, reflecting on all of the trouble this crush had previously caused her.

This was going to change everything.

This was a chance to spend more time with the girl, to learn everything about her. They would become unstoppable in the battlefield, so much so that their masters would have to pair them up for more missions because why wouldn’t you use this force of nature. The would pass their trials together and they would become knights together, and teach padawans together. They would live the lives they dreams of since they were younglings, and they would do it side-by-side.

The future was bright, nothing could go wrong.

"Anything that can go wrong will."

A/n: This got away from me... I lost the plot a little. Thank you so much for reading! If you want to request or be added to the taglist, let me know! I am only writing for Ahsoka for the moment, so bear that in mind. <333333

Masterlist

Taglist: @luvlykrispy

[c0ffinshit]

(i have to show u this pic before i request btw)

HOWEVER ASIDE THAT...I am desperately BEGGING for a Nathan x reader, and reader is sort of like the star to his moon? (I can fix him /j) More specifically where they meet as coworkers and reader is the school librarian helping bratt write his book. Maybe even helping him out at his house after work?? (You can escalate it to smut or not, I just need this man.)

first off, thank you for the new reaction pic i will use to annoy all my friends. second off... THAT. IS. SO. CUTE.

i love the idea of having them work together and having a little meet cute moment kinda thing. soooooo enjoy this little thing i whipped up in my nathan bratt infested brain

warnings: like vaguely angsty, just brain rotting fluff

Most people think it's easy being a high school librarian. In its most basic state, the job is simple enough if you’re good with numbers and organizing. Fortunately for you, you are pretty great at both of those things.

But with all that, the job can still be stressful, especially during the end of a semester. Usually, every student comes in and returns any books before Christmas break. And because every student checks out at least one book every year, you suddenly get flooded with books that can take hours to put back. Luckily, some years, you have people who help you put all the extra books along with any cataloging you didn’t complete.

Every year is always a different face, except for one. The only teacher who ever came and helped was Nathan Bratt, most commonly known as Mr. Bratt. Whenever he helps you with your books, you help him write his.

You never consider yourself a writer or involve yourself in the writing community very often. Sure, you respect the people who do it for an actual job, but it was never what you saw yourself doing. But when you sit down and spitball ideas with him, something just sparkles inside you. It's all laughter and lightbulbs when you two work together.

You’ve even gone over to his home before. He was shy when he asked, but when you happily said yes, his eyes lit up, and his voice became a soft butter.

He was just a fucking great guy. And when he kisses you for the first time, your spine shiver from top to bottom. Nathan’s lips were a bit chapped, but winter was coming upon Port Lawernce quicker with every day. When you spent the rest of the winter with him, it was like dying and going to heaven. All of your Christmas-related dreams came true in a week. Whenever he sees you around, he always smiles softly and waves hello. You indeed wish you had another night like that, to feel his arms tight around you as the fireplace shines dimly.

It felt like you were the star to his moon that week you were with him. All you have to do is ask. Maybe he’ll invite you over, and you’ll fall in love with him again.

[wind-corner]

Chapter three

Meri was vrooming about on her very simplified flying device. She has been running about managing to find just where they possible way home and after talking to the normies guarding it she was now making it to where the next problem was at.

After all she didn't tell her friends but ever since they ended up thrown in the past their magic seemed to create more than double or triple the amount of blot, more so if filled with negative emotions. Which sucked since it was like they got cursed or something.

It was just a blessing that she was a shroud, because of her family's curse seemed to really turn to a gift as she was able to not only not stress about it but keeping close contact with chaim and Brigitte she was able to have her own curse eat away at the blot that seemed to coat them as, and thus they didn't have to worry about over bloting.

Sadly as she zoomed though the halls that were both familar and strange she had a feeling she wasn't going to make it in time before she was going to be doing more work. She needed to make sure to erase everyone's memories, possibly fix things that need to be fixed and hope her program does in fact self delete cause she didn't need her family finding it before she was even born.

And as she zoom past some guys who were guarding the hall like npcs she knew they had to be like the other ones from their time and not form this time. After all it wouldn't make sense plus she had made sure no one would leave what ever room their in since she made sure to active some alarms that would make everyone bunker down and so long as everyone stays put all will be good.

Though the minute she got to where her friends were she frowned more. Not only is the dron she sent with Brigitte down but it seemed there was in fact an overblot situation. Which honestly was going to be annoying if anyone finds out because fucken underword, she refuses to sit though any extra "friends don't let friends overblot" lectures. Since three a year was more than enough, thank you very much.

None the less their were going to have to snap them out of it and she summon her catalyst. The skull head which was a mix of old and new magic with mix of technology as it floated about. And looking about she sent out a blast of water magic at the mid blot being.

And it seemed the other notice and sent their own blast of magics. If they could possibly intrupted it maybe they could avoid it fully transforming but that would be meaning they had good luck. Which didn't seem that wasn't the case as they soon had an overblot to deal with.

Cursing meri watched as their sinor just turn to a darker twisted version of himself. Honestly what is up with this time frame and blots?

Recalling the historical records this time frame was the year of blot where many ssr blot creatures seemed to run about, almost one after another in a short time span.

None the less she wasn't going to make it if he went after her. So quickly reaching into her bag she grab the seeds from the bag and tossed the infront of her and using her magic, that she spent years cultivating to force the seeds to grown sprouting till they grew into massive trees that rip though ground and acted as a shield. The magic packs beeped reminding her that this love practical empty then meaning she was going to be stuck using just the magic she had and not the extra reserves she had store in the boxes.

Pulling up her tablet she begin clicking away at getting the dron to move and to also act as support for brig and chaim while they did all the main fighting. She could peak though the trees but it better to get an over head view. Not to mention she needed to keep track of their blot incubation because they didn't need more than one over blot.

Meri also sent pencer two go and help. The ais could in fact send blows by using engery in the air and turning it into a viable power for a blow, not magic and pure technology it might hit different, but its fine. Though it would be weak for smaller blows since their would be no real time to charge it, but what ever.

Flipping her hair off her shoulder she wonder if she should try choking their sinor with her hair? But than again that would mean getting close and she didn't really think she could, at least not being hit.

Sighing she watched as Brigitte and chaim ran about here and there like some action stars flipping and dodging blows or having to use their weapon of choice to block blows thay other wise would hit them. And she wasn't stupid to not see the few swords that hit the trees that she hid behind.

And when it seemed a rough blow came at them they put up shield magic as the blow caused everything to shake around them. The trees seemed to interact with it as the branches were pushed back. Making her glance up to the tress and she softly put her hand the trunk she was behind. "You're doing good please stay strong."

The tree didn't say anything of corse but she hoped they understood. After all her mother's side of the family had a deep connection with plants and while her connection wasn't as strong as her mother's side, she still had it, despite the curse.

Closing her eyes she put her forhead to the tree after all the longer this goes on the worse it is for everyone and she knew she would be pushing the trees and herself she had one trump card and if it work it should give the other two a shot at spamming the heck out of him and maybe snap their sinor out of the over blot.

Thus meri focus on the trees felt the underlined magic that made them and after a moment, connected with their roots and used her magic to willed the roots to expand and come out, from the ground.

Humming she could just imagen her parents scolding her for doing all this after all she Didn't she get hurt herself, doing something similar as a child? Not that it mater, she was almost an adult, so this should be fine.

Taking deep breath she felt her arms tingling like it does after she slept on it for the whole night. And glad to have voice command she called the screen to her so she could get an idea of what she was doing after all wouldn't help if she couldn't see who and what she was grabbing.

Watching the screen she waited before raising her arms ingoing the unsettling sounds of the trees as they again hit with sowrds that the other two manged to avoid.

Another deep breath before moving her hands and the roots shot out from the stone ground flinging a mess everywhere but she did mange to get rotem trap the inky monster seemed to hiss but seemed to not find any issues as it seemed to be able to move but it would at least help the others get things done. After all the creature couldn't fully do as it wants till its host was fully drain of their magic and life. But this will hopefully be the last push to snap the elder out of it. Or so she hopes.

[sagaofstardustmkg]

Selfish | X | Epilogue

It’s nothing short of a miracle that everything aligned just right for them to have killed a Fairy Queen without any major loss occurring. It is also a bit of disappointment for Mari that Dionaea only had but one life for them to take. Nonetheless, it is satisfying to watch Yuto finish her off, and the thought crosses her mind he should look into changing his wizard name to Roland, the scene that follows makes her almost certain of it.

She watches in silence as Juneau bds her knight farewell and stares at Caleb and Ben, with Ben working on the burden of time now, and she wonders if she’ll now wake up elsewhere entirely for a moment, before she shakes her head subtly to herself and simply throws out a peace sign at the couple as the magic begins.

Back at the beginning, she realizes, curiously enough, that her worldview has expanded.

No, not figuratively, she hasn’t learned anything, nor is she thinking better of the people around her, but she literally can see better again. With both eyes, much to her own, short-lived surprise as she realizes, of course she can.

Ben did offer to fix it before, after all. In her seat, in the middle of the speech, the thought makes her chuckle lightly to herself, unnoticed by anyone else.

Later, washing her face, she’d chuckle again when realizing her eyes are mismatched, one the same dark blue it ever was, the other a surprisingly familiar golden hue. Not one to complain as long as they’re in working order, though, she carries on with her day, and then days, skipping all classes and acing all their exams and presentations anyways.

So the extra time was spent on research of her own personal interest, rather than the bullshit thesis she made some months ago when she learnt about the academy’s offer, maybe she’ll be more open about that next year, after all, she doesn’t hate it here.

It’s not home or anything like that. It isn’t as if Stardust Academy holds some deep special place inside the small, cold, grey stone that she has for a heart, no. But the people here, at least some of the people here…

Well.

They’re not annoying.

Most of the time, anyway.

But certainly, even if they annoy her, even frustrate her sometimes, or amuse her in ways they really shouldn’t, she can’t and won’t deny that some people are important to her. More than she ever thought possible. In truth, they’ve grown more important than she ever would’ve liked them to. But that’s okay. Okay enough, that one early morning, after some of the class has decided to leave, she decides to write a letter to a certain friend, outside, worded as awkwardly as everything that comes out of her mouth.

Anemone,

Hello.

Stardust Academy has been fine, a couple of things have happened:

Lots of people hate the British. I don’t, though. I just think they’re stupid fucking wankers. Did meet a few that aren’t.

Killed a guy (he got better so it’s fine.)

Lost an eye (grew back so it’s fine.)

Made some friends (somehow. Weird.)

Helped kill some fairy (had it coming so it's fine.)

Learned that murder is okay if the victim deserves it. If you want something you should take it. There’s a third thing too stupid to commit to paper. Will tell you in person.

Regards, X.

She finishes, and puts a turtle stamp over, giving it to Hades to take to be mailed to the outside world, knowing it’ll find its way to her friend with the instructions she’s prepared for it, she instead begins to write into another piece of paper, to be posted at the bulletin board.

Preparing dinner for the scholarship class. 8PM. Dorm. Come. Or don’t.

That's the entirety of the message, speaking little for the effort she'll put into making a little something for the people she knows that day, for the same reason she does everything, because she can. 

[blondeulence]

hot water

karlach/tav oneshot (lemon)

by me on ao3 !!!!!

used my tav Soleil !!

Karlach was taking her extra-sweet time getting to bed, spending most of her night in a rock-lined pool some previous adventurers had left to fill with river water. The water was cool, her muscles were sore from traveling and unpacking and then packing and then traveling. She was grateful for this new section of her life, and as unfortunate as the company of a brain parasite is, she couldn’t compare it to Avernus. Here, she had friends. She had no plan, a heart that was burning up and a whole lot of bad guys to run through, but she had friends.

There was sunshine and the moon and birds and wind and cold water, as short lived as it was with her condition. The years she’d spent trapped in Avernus made this feel as close to heaven as she could get. Maybe it was as close as she’d ever get. She couldn’t complain, not really. She felt as alive as she ever remembered feeling, ironic as it was. 

Karlach rolled over to face the wall of the pool, lifting her arms out of the water to rest on the cool edge. Her chin rested on the back of her hand and she inhaled the steam rising from her skin. Her engine had begun burning hotter, and it was getting more difficult hiding how uncomfortable it was at times. She could deal with the impending doom, but leaving her friends behind was another thing. She couldn’t have them worry about her when there were brain worms, missing parents, evil ex-masters, lying gods, and so, so many devils to deal with.

Her friend Soleil had sacrificed a lot to be able to help them in the capacity she had. She never mentioned her own family, her own goals, really much of anything. Karlach could never tell if Soleil wasn’t mentioning it intentionally or if she just didn’t remember. A lot of them couldn’t remember a lot, for a variety of reasons. Maybe that's why they got along, and they were all much too proud to admit it.

When they had met Dammon at the Tiefling camp, Soleil had jumped at his offer to help Karlach before she could even open her mouth. She’d spent valuable time and expensive resources helping her get her engine tuned up and never once looked back expecting thanks from her, only “Hi Dammon, please fix my friend.” Of course Karlach hadn’t let the generous deed go unappreciated, she tells her as often as she can how grateful she is but Soleil shrugs it off with an “Of course!” or a “Don’t mention it” every time. How could she not mention her dramatically-increased lifespan thanks to her friend’s effort? She’d never stop, even if it got annoying.

The moonlight felt almost cold against her face. The feeling wasn’t common but it was very welcome, and Karlach closed her eyes.

She really, really did not want to die, but going back to Avernus wasn’t an option. The thought of the hellfire made a painful death on the surface sound like a warm embrace. She wasn’t sure how she could explain this to her friends. Astarion would definitely understand, one of the very few things they saw eye-to-eye on. Lae’zel might even consider a fiery death honorable of her. If she did choose to go back and live, would they visit her? Would they bother? Would the chance that they might make it worth it?

No, it wouldn’t, and she would spare herself the self-pity for tonight. She opened her eyes.

Dew had collected on the dense grass and the moonlight filtering through the trees made it glitter beautifully. The lake ahead caught the same light, stretching it into white ribbons over its gentle current. Halsin talked a lot about nature’s gifts and Karlach decided she should probably slow down to appreciate them, because she’d never been good at accepting gifts, and at least nature can’t suddenly decide it expects anything from her in return.

She’d never felt so cared for. She’d never been so cared for, and she’d never been so understood. Everybody here had their own bullshit and baggage to sort out but they had been helping each other through it - even Wyll, who had been so hell-bent on killing her sacrificed his humanity so she could live, and never let them know of his incoming consequence. She, Lae’zel and Soleil had gotten all the way through Shar’s trials with Shadowheart so she didn’t have to do it alone, even though she changed her mind after. Even Cazador was slaughtered without question, and that was a fucking fight. Astarion hadn’t even been anything but halfway-decent to them all before they’d marched in there with him.

She was getting better at accepting the same kind of love she gave every day. She was so, so grateful.

She might have been too focused on the fireflies to hear the soft footsteps approaching the pool, but when a sweet voice interrupted the silence Karlach did her best to not look too startled.

“Mind if I join you?”

Standing to her right was Soleil, waiting patiently for permission to be included in Karlach’s scheduled overthinking time.

“Hey, you,” Karlach smiled, leaning into the rocks to try and hide how brightly her heart lit up the water. “Come on in, water’s fine.”

“I’m sure it is now,” Soleil giggled, slipping her shoes off, “It looked cold earlier.”

Karlach smiled into her arm, turning back around so Soleil could undress without eyes on her, but mostly so she couldn’t see how her face burned. The water swayed gently and Soleil sighed into it.

“You can’t sleep either?” Soleil asked after she’d settled in the water next to Karlach.

Karlach turned toward her but her answer caught in her throat when she realized how much closer Soleil was than she expected, and much more naked than what she was used to. It was certainly welcome, but now she had to use what was left of her day’s worth of concentration to not stumble over every word.

“Why can’t you sleep?” A non-answer. Karlach’s arms slipped back into the water.

“There’s too much to think about,” Soleil looked down at the water, “I want to do everything, and save everyone… and, we’re out of wine.”

Karlach laughed.

“And Shadowheart’s wailing from Lae’zel’s tent also isn’t helping,” Soleil giggled quietly, “I’ve heard Astarion very loudly rearrange his pillows twice now and I don’t think they’re getting the hint we’re all up.”

Karlach’s hand came up to her mouth to stifle a very loud laugh. Soleil leaned in and giggled quietly.

Once the hilariousness of their sworn-enemy friends’ involvement with each other had passed, Karlach answered Soleil’s initial question, “Yeah, I can’t sleep. It’s just… I’m just-”

“I know.”

“...Yeah.”

A beat passed before Soleil spoke up again, “Does this help?”

The cool water, the quietness of the edge of camp. It really did.

“Yes, a lot,” Karlach breathed, “It’s probably not as nice now, sorry, soldier.”

“That’s why I came over, I knew it wouldn’t be cold.”

Karlach laughed at that. She was such a small thing, so sweet and honest. An appropriate temperature. Karlach wished she could keep her warm forever. “It’s not too bad, is it?”

“It never is.”

Karlach felt her chest burn again. She hoped it wasn’t bright enough to notice.

Soleil’s eyes flicked down to her heart and quickly back up to her eyes and held them. 

“...I’m also thinking too much,” Karlach broke the silence, “About everything. Right when we find a way out of one pile of shit we’re thrown into a deeper and even stinkier one.”

“We’re good at digging our way out, I think,” Soleil rubbed her fingers in the water, “Astarion said earlier that when the Devils start approaching you, you know you’re in deep.”

He’s right, as easy as it was to laugh at the absurdity of it. Even in Avernus she never encountered this many Devils. It had to mean they were close to something, if even the worst creatures imaginable were trying to interrupt them. Even Mizora swore she’d fight with them, and that she wouldn’t let the Duke get hurt, all in exchange for Wyll’s continued servitude. It was sickeningly confusing. 

“We’re up to our tits in hot water,” Karlach had to laugh, “We have to be close to something, then.”

“That's what I’m thinking,” Soleil’s tone changed into the tone she uses when she’s come up with a plan, “What is Raphael trying to keep us from doing?”

She’s right, he had spent all kinds of breath explaining to them why they weren’t going to make it out of any of this alive without his help, and they’d managed fine, mostly, thus far. It sounded insane boiled down like that.

“I really think we can make it out of this,” Soleil continued, gesturing to her head to specify what she meant, “I think we can get rid of these worms, and we can free everyone, and we can be safe, and we won’t have to run anymore.”

She held Karlach’s gaze.

“I think we can fix your heart, Karlach.”

She spoke her name so sweetly, it was painful having to think about explaining to her again that it just isn’t possible, and even if it was, she couldn’t ask that of her. Every second counted now and she’d never be able to live with herself if they’d wasted any more valuable time on her. 

That, and they hadn’t run into Dammon since the shadow curse was lifted. She wasn’t even sure he made it out of the Inn safely, or the slightest idea of where he might have ended up.

“I wish I could hug you,” Karlach exhaled, “You’ve done so much for me, soldier, much more than I’ve asked.”

“I wanted to,” Soleil shrugged, her hand reaching for Karlach’s under the water.

Karlach flinched when their fingers touched, expecting Soleil to pull back in pain, but she never did. She kept her hand held out. Karlach opened her mouth to ask if she’d hurt her, if she was okay, but the words fluttered from her mind when Soleil reached out again, this time linking their pinky fingers together, and then fully taking her hand.

“You okay?” Karlach held her breath, trying her hardest to concentrate on her engine.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Soleil smiled, reassuring her, “You said the water helps?”

“A hell of a lot more than burning up in my tent, yes,” Karlach hadn’t thought that it might cool her off enough for this, though. She was still so, so, scared of seriously burning her.

Soleil stepped closer to her, her eyes flicking from her glowing engine to her lips and then her eyes, her fingers fully intertwining with her’s on the way over. Gods, she was lovely. The water was much warmer the closer Soleil was to Karlach, and she prayed it wasn’t too uncomfortable. Every second more Soleil held her gaze the warmer it got, too, and the brighter she burned.

“Are you okay?” Soleil smiled again.

“Never been better,” Karlach exhaled, and the small vents on her shoulders lit up blue. Soleil watched intently, bringing herself closer yet and studying the light burning from her. The soft blue light reached the irises of her eyes and little wisps of silent flame flickered from her skin above the water. Still, she wasn’t too hot to touch.

-

Soleil found her so beautiful, and even more beautiful the closer she brought herself to fully touching her. She felt ethereal, the moonlight as bright as it can be this time of night with the fireflies slowly dissipating as if to offer them the privacy. Karlach smelled of cedar and leather and the palms of her hands were as rough as such, but her gaze was so soft, and she handled her so gently. Soleil had never experienced the fires of Avernus herself but if they were to surprise her as being anything like her companion she’d consider a visit. 

“Karlach, you’re allowed to touch me, if you’d like,” Soleil spoke, almost against her lips.

Karlach hummed softly in response, her callused hands coming to rest on Soleil’s hips. It was a very welcome heat, intense, but not overwhelming.

She pulled back briefly, “Is this okay?”

“Yes, please,” Soleil moved Karlach’s hands back into place, and her touch was more firm this time. Soleil shivered.

The light in Karlach’s chest grew brighter and then dimmed into the same soft blue in her eyes, dancing in the ripples on the surface of the water between them.

Soleil had been honest about the noise keeping her awake, although not completely. She’d never been a good liar, and she’d been kicking herself in her tent every night that week for chickening out of every opportunity she had to tell Karlach how much she liked her. As a friend, as a companion, yes, but she really really liked her. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t caught on. It was one of her more endearing traits.

It had taken nearly an entire bottle of wine for Soleil to be able to verbalize these feelings to Wyll, who had never asked for them, but who had sat so patiently and listened while the heart of his friend was splayed in front of him, quietly topping their glasses when they were low.

“I’m not afraid of her, or the rejection, or… or of losing her, but she makes me so nervous,” a long sip of wine, “I freeze up every time I talk to her, not even about my feelings, just because she’s talking to me, and she’s so cool, and she trusts me, everything I do or say she trusts me…”

“Do you trust yourself?”

“I… think so?” Soleil hadn’t thought of that, “I don’t know what the right way to go about any of this is.”

“I don’t either,” Wyll shrugged, “We’re taking things one day at a time, and that’s how you should take this.”

Soleil looked down into her cup.

“Yes, I think you should tell her, or show her, or write her a poem or a song or make her a gift,” Wyll leaned forward, “And I can certainly help you with those things, but your heart is here tonight, and whatever your heart’s instinct is I think you should listen.”

Soleil nodded.

“You’ve done a lot for her, your acts of service have not gone unnoticed.”

“You have too.”

“Something tells me this might be different.”

And it might have been, and it might be, and Soleil had convinced herself that she’d been imagining things, that she’d convinced herself that maybe Karlach was being more than friendly to her, when she was really just being friendly.

Maybe Wyll knew something she didn’t. Maybe they’d talked, in the same way she’d talked to Wyll, and maybe he said the same things to Karlach. Maybe she was as nervous as Soleil was, right now, in the hot water, with her strong hands touching her with nothing in between. Nothing in between them but water, and steam, and the soft glow of the engine behind Karlach’s ribs.

“Is this still okay?” Karlach’s hands gently slid up her back, her fingers lingering where Soleil’s flesh dipped over her spine.

A shiver ran through her, the physical contact as well as the warmth being things she hadn’t felt this deprived of until now. She craved it deeply.

Soleil leaned into Karlach, letting Karlach’s leg slip between hers. She raised herself up on her toes. 

-

Karlach had promised herself she wouldn’t act like a desperate freak if her dreams had ever come true like this, if she ever found out that Soleil felt the same way about her. It was taking every ounce of strength she had to not grab her and squeeze her and kiss her and touch her, everywhere, all at the same time. She cared for her deeply and she didn’t want to scare her, but she wasn’t sure Soleil knew what this meant to her right now.

It had been ten years since anyone had touched her, especially like this. Ten years since she’d tried, and ten years since she’d decided it wasn’t worth trying anymore. Either this was some kind of miracle pool, or she’d failed to consider every option. She almost felt stupid, but she couldn’t blame herself. She’d only escaped Avernus months ago.

Karlach sighed as Soleil’s hands ran up her chest to her neck where she held her face, her thumbs running softly over her cheeks. Karlach leaned into her small hand, the cool moisture evaporating from her skin.

and Soleil kissed her.

and Karlach expected a sharp pull away, a wince in pain, but it never came, and instead Soleil pushed into her gently. When she did pull away it was slow, she lingered in the dense heat and smiled sweetly when Karlach was tugged forward by the lingering feeling.

Karlach exhaled a held breath against Soleil’s lips. She was a live wire with excitement, she wanted to grab her and ravish her, if she even remembered how. She’d probably end up scaring Soleil away.

“You're so beautiful, Karlach,” Soleil remarked softly.

She hadn’t scared her away yet, she thought, and there’d been plenty of times she was sure she had.

“Gods, you should see yourself.”

Soleil was soft, mostly unscathed, save for the scar over her nose and the chip in one of her horns. Her hands had also seen some wear since they’d met. Karlach’s tendency to dive head-first into confrontation left her skin littered with scars, something she never fully disliked, but was much more aware of now that she occasionally caught Soleil’s gaze trailing over them. They sliced through her tattoos and some even formed patterns, reminders of the beasts she’s found herself trapped under.

The way Soleil’s touch paralyzed her, though, she’d never be able to wiggle out of it.

She felt Soleil’s tail curl around her thigh, willing her back in. Karlach held her tighter, still waiting for any sign of a third-degree burn where her hands pressed into her but the water kept them at bay. Soleil was a tough one, she knew, but she hoped she’d tell her if it was ever too much. Karlach wanted to spend a long time with her in this quickly-heating puddle.

-

Soleil hadn’t ever thought about what she’d do after she kissed Karlach, the fantasy in her head had always ended there. The roof of her tent usually became entertainment for the rest of the night, as well as the company of her right hand. She never let it get far enough to where her hopes might get too high, and she was okay depriving herself of the delusion if it meant it would keep her heart from shattering completely. Their game plan to the end of the world wasn’t entirely free of impending danger at every step.

“Can I kiss you again?”

Karlach’s question got stuck in the steam between them. Soleil’s hands fell to Karlach’s chest, hovering over her blue engine, letting the heat seep into her fingers. She could feel the air between them vibrate in its constant whirring and ticking.

Without a word, as if she could have come up with one at all, Soleil nodded briefly and kissed her again.

Karlach’s arms wrapped tightly around her and she leaned into her, so much that Soleil’s feet were pulled from the ground and she drew her legs up to wrap around Karlach. Soleil inhaled the thick steam around them, almost struggling to get enough air in but her head was so clouded with the feeling of Karlach’s hands under the water she paid it little mind. One of Karlach’s hands slid to Soleil’s leg to hold her up, and she tilted her head to not break the kiss. Soleil’s hands came up again, her thumbs brushing Karlach’s cheeks softly. She gently squeezed Karlach’s leg with her tail still coiled twice around it.

Soleil ran her wet hands down Karlach’s neck again, the trail of water quickly drying and she threw her arms over her shoulders, clutching onto her tightly. Karlach moved at a similar speed and crushed her against her, spinning them around so Soleil was backed against the stone wall of the pool.

Karlach broke the kiss to trail hot kisses down Soleil’s neck and collarbones, her hands gliding lower under the water until one hovered between her thighs. She pulled back again when she felt Soleil’s legs tighten around her.

“Karlach, I’m okay, I promise,” Soleil smiled, her chest rising and falling quickly, struggling to take in air in the dense heat.

“You promise to tell me if I hurt you?” Karlach spoke into the shell of her ear.

Soleil rolled her hips forward into Karlach’s hand, “Yes, I promise.”

The direct heat into Soleil’s core was intense. Karlach’s fingertips ran gently over her and slowed down at her clit, rubbing softly over it in small circles, not pressing too hard, treating her with care.

Soleil unraveled into her. Her arms around her relaxed and Karlach held her against the wall with her own weight.

“Gods, soldier…” Karlach breathed. Her strokes were steady and controlled. With a second finger, she ran both over the sides of Soleil’s clit, squeezing it in between while she stroked back and forth.

Soleil matched Karlach’s movements, her hips in perfect time. Her legs trembled every time Karlach ran over her clit. Slowly, Karlach slid her middle finger inside her, and Soleil gasped at the heat, bringing a hand up to the back of Karlach’s neck where her fingers tangled in her hair.

“Yes, my love.”

Karlach softened at the name, a quiet and sweet sound slipping from her lips. Soleil felt her smile against her neck. Kissing her skin gently, Karlach slid another finger inside her, pressing the heel of her hand into Soleil’s clit again.

Soleil ground down on it, Karlach’s fingers inside her warming her thoroughly. Her head fell back as she rocked, pockets of cool air from above breaking through the dense steam and cooling her face. Karlach kissed her throat, letting Soleil grind onto her hand at her own pace, and meeting her in the middle. Slowly, she ran a hand down Soleil’s back and gripped the base of her tail, rubbing her underneath where it met her spine.

Soleil choked, using what strength she had left to lift her head and press her forehead to Karlach’s.

“Karlach,” She gasped, the name on her tongue as hot as the air around them.

“I got you, baby.”

Soleil crumbled at the softness of her words and shook at the roughness of her palm. The hot coil in her stomach tightened, further and further, and before she could utter a word of warning Karlach had kissed quickly down her neck, hovering between her breasts when she lifted Soleil to the edge of the pool and kissed her all the way down to her hips.

Soleil’s head spun at the quickness in the change of position but was pulled back to earth at the feeling of Karlach’s lips inside her thighs, kissing softly toward her. Karlach’s eyes fluttered open to meet Soleil’s and she melted fast, the blue flames flickering off of her and burning in her eyes so much richer than the cool moonlight they were bathed in.

Karlach kissed the soft folds between Soleil’s legs, and she was unable to tear her eyes away. Karlach’s tongue worked over her clit again, sensitive from the way she ground down onto Karlach’s hand moments before. Karlach brought one arm around Soleil’s leg to pull her close, and inched her other up Soleil’s body to softly palm her breast.

The attention, especially at this temperature, was overstimulating and heaven on earth at the same time. The cool air outside of the pool quickly became chilling on her wet skin and her focus shifted entirely to Karlach’s hand on her, and her arm around her leg, and her mouth around her heat. Soleil’s tail involuntarily coiled itself around Karlach’s bicep.

Soleil was quickly brought back to the edge of orgasm, her arms shaking in an attempt to hold her up and her legs spasming under Karlach’s touch. Karlach knew this too, and she sucked hard on Soleil’s clit, her tongue flicking over it slowly.

“Yes, yes…” Soleil exhaled into the sky. Her words seemed to float upwards, no longer trapped by the steam over the water.

Karlach hummed into Soleil, keeping her pace so as to not disrupt the building pressure. Her nails dug into Soleil’s flesh, something neither of them were aware of. Her other hand on Soleil’s breast rolled her nipple in between her fingers, pressing heat into her.

Soleil shook, the tension snapping. Her ears rang, her fingers and toes going numb as Karlach drank in her orgasm, drawing it out of her with her tongue. She lingered here for a long time, savoring the taste of her until Soleil’s breathing had slowed.

After what felt like minutes of rolling hills of ecstasy, Soleil sat back herself back and took Karlach’s face in her hands. Karlach smiled, turning to kiss Soleil’s palm and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her back into the hot water.

Soleil sighed at the sensation again, welcome and warm. Karlach’s hands trailed soft lines up and down her spine and she kissed her forehead, letting Soleil lean into her, supporting her weight.

“Did I burn you?” Karlach asked softly, in a half-joking tone.

Soleil shook her head, humming a no before lifting her head, “I’m okay, I promise.”

“Just okay?”

“I’m… deliriously happy.”

Karlach’s hands squeezed her gently. After a second, she spoke again.

“You can have me, completely, if you’d like,” Karlach spoke softly, her eyes flitting back and forth between Soleil’s eyes and her lips, red and puffy from the heat and roughness of her kiss.

Soleil searched her eyes, still dimly glowing blue from the heat of their exchange, and wondered if they’d gotten any brighter since she’d offered herself like that. Seconds had passed before Soleil nodded and pushed in again, Karlach leaning into her open hand.

“Yes, I would like that,” Soleil smiled, “and you can have me as well.”

“I would really, really, really, like that.”

Soleil felt the surrounding water heat up again and Karlach sunk lower into it, pulling Soleil close and kissing her again. The world was probably ending, the devil was after them and so were multiple different gods. They all still had tadpoles and heavy deals to consider but if everything had come crashing down right at that moment Soleil would be okay with that. 

[galacticlamps]

💘🌈🤍 for the fic writer asks? :)

💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write?

Not especially? Little mistakes I'll fix whenever I notice them, even if it's on something that's been up for a long time already - and for anything I'd want to do a major overhaul on, I'm enough of a '2 cakes!' person to be down with writing a new fic on a similar concept, rather than rework one that already exists. Sidebar: that's actually how Shards of Memories & Fragments of Glass and Interrupted initially began, as kinda inverse/incompatible approaches to a similar moment - and I wasn't even frustrated with those, so I can only imagine how much more willing I'd be to write both ideas again if I thought it would be a massive improvement on a story.

((The fics of mine I like the least are also the ones I think about & re-read the least, so maybe there's something in one of them that I would be annoyed by enough to want to re-write, but it just isn't really on my mind? I suppose I look at Reckless and wonder why so little happens in 10k words, or I look at Oh, So Right and wonder if I shouldn't've held off and let that grow into something larger that incorporated more of my headcanons on the subject (I have a lot, but that fic was never meant to be the vehicle for them) - but it's not like I've ruled out doing that some day, so there's no real harm in it already existing as-is. Honestly I think my whole 5+1 series is pretty unbalanced - some like In the Kitchen feel better suited to being a chapter than a whole fic of its own, whereas others feel more like their own independent stories - and I think if I set out to do something like that again, I'd aim for more consistency, but it's not like I want to rewrite those actual fics just so they'd fit together better. If I recall correctly, On the Spot is probably fairly silly, but it's meant to be and there are about a million different versions of proposal & get together fics I have in my head - that one's far from being my favorite version but it doesn't hurt to've gotten one of them out of my system at least.))

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

See, the thing I struggle with the most is length, and to some extent it really affects everything I write - because it's not as if I'm just anti-long fics, it's that I have a problem with consistently under-estimating what the word count on just about any wip will become. And then I worry if I'm pulling focus & distracting from what I actually want the story to be about with unnecessary word vomit - so I tend to do a lot of second guessing, shortening & looking for things to cut before I post anything, and sometimes I get waaaay too concerned about that, for relatively little payoff. In that regard, it would be much simpler to list the fics I miraculously didn't struggle with lol

But to talk specifics - there's a bit of anti-gravity business in Small Hours in a Wide Universe that I super stressed about narrating, and I sincerely hope no one would ever know - in that case, the problem was that I could see the actions very clearly in my mind & wanted to make sure I articulated it well enough that the reader could too, but the extra dimensions & scifi environment gave me a kind of limited vocabulary to describe movement with specificity. Since I know what it's supposed to look like though I'm not a good judge of if the description I ultimately wrote works well or if it's obvious reading it that I struggled there.

Your Life Begins By Leaving was another that I guess I had trouble with? It spent much longer than usual in my 'on deck' pile, but I wasn't working on it so consistently that it required major trouble to become stalled - again, I was just worried about sort of focus & mood and if I was overshadowing certain things with less necessary bits.

(there are 3 wips in particular that I would love love love to've posted & be able to answer this about one day, because those are truly the ones I've struggled the most with - but right now the only reason no one would know is because they literally don't exist in anyone's minds but my own lol)

🤍what’s one fic of yours you think people didn’t “get”?

I don't think this is really a case of people not 'getting' it as much as people just not caring about it as much as I do, and that's understandable - of everything I've posted, Wedding Colors is probably the most Gen & deals the least in romantic pairings - which a) is already a less popular subject in fanfic, and b) possibly even actively disappoints people by sounding like it would be more overtly romantic, given the title. But that's what I wanted to write, and I did, and I even tagged it as 'one day i decided i needed a Two/Jamie wedding fic that was actually about Zoe and this is that,' so I was kinda as upfront as I could be. (I do find it funny though, because when I'm writing things that are more exclusively Two/Jamie focused, I'll often wonder if I've done a poor job of contriving some reason for the other companions to be absent - sometimes I even feel bad writing them out, bc I think there's a great importance in a healthy romantic relationship also being part of healthy dynamics among any kind of friend group or found family, so I don't want to feel like I'm sidelining everyone because I don't think they're relevant - and yet if we're going by statistics, a fic that does heavily involve those other people & their perspectives on the romance IS in fact less appealing than ones without them, apparently)

The only other one that even slightly comes to mind is Bath Salts & Bruises, but again, saying people don't get it sounds unnecessarily harsh. I did mention once that its stats are pretty unique - if you rank my fics by hits, it's in the top half, by kudos it's in the bottom half, by bookmarks the bottom 4, and by comment threads dead last - which would seem to paint a picture of attracting more attention than it did interest or appreciation - whereas personally, it's a kind of favorite! I'm rather proud of the particular angle I took on their relationship in that one, it's one I believe in headcanon-wise (which I don't always - sometimes I just write things I could see happening because a story seems fun, and not because it's reflective of my more consistent beliefs about the characters) and for something I was a little nervous to write about, I was pretty satisfied with how I executed it too. But again, I don't think this is truly a case of anyone not getting something and more of just varied tastes, and it for sure has some stuff that objectively works against it. It's near the end of a series that took me months to write, versus the beginning installments that you'd expect to receive more attention. Most installments in that series are missing scenes during or after tv episodes - this one's set after a Big Finish audio, and to make matters worse, one that's part of a box set in a relatively unpopular range. Like the wedding one, it might also be a kind of false advertising too - it's a bath scene, the characters are nude for most of it and touching each other and even thinking about sex more directly than usual in most of my stuff - and yet it's not at all steamy or spicy or whatever you want to call it, and nothing ever comes of those thoughts, which could be a let down in terms of expectations/disappointment. And then there's also the fact that this is, I think, the most blatantly ace I've ever written Jamie - which could in itself annoy or even just fail to appeal to people who don't agree with that take - but he's also pretty clearly not uninterested in potentially sleeping with the Doctor. That combination makes perfect sense to me because it overlaps with some of my own experiences as an ace person, but could easily serve to confuse people who've spent less time considering asexuality, while at the same time even alienating other people who are more familiar with its nuances, but whose experiences or perception of the character are at odds with that particular detail.

So I've no reason to believe anyone hates it or is actually super confused by it, but it certainly doesn't appeal to others as much as it does to me (and that's fine, nobody at all could read it ever & I'd still be quite glad I wrote it!)

[mercur1e]

Helllooooo

Soo I just saw you're headcannons are literally 💞💞

It's lowkey the only thing keeping me safe and alive ✋😌......soooooo can I request Gom + kuroko and kagami (if it's to much you can just doo Aomine, Kise and Midorima and akashi)where they accidentally hurt their s/o feelings pleaaseeeeee..... I need some angst but please end it in fluff (cuz i lowkey cannot handle it)

Please take care of yourself, your health always comes first, I love youuuu ❤❤❤

Ofc love! I hope you're doing well and I love you too :) <333

Akashi

He disregarded your hard work :(

You're trying to start your own small business and you're having a little trouble, which is not unusual that happens sometimes!

You were having trouble hiring employees and you were talking to him about it, and he was in a bad mood prior to you approaching him

"You're not going anywhere with this. It would just be better to give up on it. You're not going to make it that far even if you do succeed. And can you leave? I'm busy and all you're doing is acting as a distraction."

You just froze, you couldn't believe what he had just said

Not only did he know how much work you were putting in, he also knew how excited you were for the future of your shop too

You didn't even say anything, you just froze with shock, hurt, and surprise and stomped out of his office

You left the house, you needed some time to cool off and cry

It took Akashi a second to realize what he had said and how hurtful his words were, so he started looking all over for you in the house. He goes into the garage to see your car is gone and he assumes the worst.

You don't pick up the phone when he calls you or answer his texts, opting to turn it off after the fifth call.

You stay by your best friend for the night and they comforted you and told you he probably didn't mean it, and that you can stay as long as you need

After you leave from by your friends place you go to your favorite cafe for some breakfast

And guess who's there, Akashi.

You turn around and walk out because you were honestly not ready to deal with him just yet and it was too early in the morning for all that

He catches you on the way out and apologizes :)

"Love, I apologize for what I said yesterday. It was inconsiderate, hurtful, and wrong. You've been working so hard on your business and you're doing your best to make it happen. I was in a bad mood yesterday and I dont know what came over me. Will you forgive me?"

Looking you in the eye as he spoke every word, holding your hands and rubbing them, you know he was truly sorry and wants to fix what he did.

"I forgive you Sei, but what you said was really hurtful. You know how much this means to me and how much work I've been putting in. But I do forgive you."

He takes you out to eat at your favorite restaurant and watch a movie afterwards back at home, kisses you tons and holds you in his arms when you fall asleep.

He also puts in a good word with his work associates about your business and you gain more employees and popularity! But unless you want to do it completely on your own he's there supporting you every step of the way and giving you advice :)

Midorima

He acts like your affection is kryptonite, even though you're not a clingy or overly-affectionate person

You guys had been together for about 3-4 months

He always brushes you off even at the most simplest acts of affections, you're starting to really question if he even wants to be together.

Well this particular time he embarrassed you in front of the team :/

There was a break in between practice and you went to give him his water bottle and give him a hug

"Hey Shin he's your water bottle, don't work yourself too hard okay?"

After that you went in for a quick hug but he held a hand against your chest and glared at you

"Why are you always so clingy? You're always on me and its annoying. Can you just leave me alone or leave?"

He said that right in the middle of the court, everyone's eyes were on you and you felt embarrassed.

"...alright."

That's all you after said you shoved the water bottle into his hand and walked out of the gym.

Takao was the one to call him out on his behavior and tell him that he was being rude and that he should apologize

Midorima took that advice and after practice, he went to find you and apologize, except you weren't anywhere he checked or thought you would be

You avoided him for 3 days straight until he arrived at your house unannounced

Your lucky item in his hand, he gives you a well deserved apology

"Y/N I- I'm sorry that I was being rude to you. There was no reason for me to act like that and I haven't been appreciating you like I should. That was rude of me and I hope you except my apology. Also- this is your uh lucky item."

He hands you a plushie :)

He gives you hugs and reassures you that he appreciates your affections despite him not being used to it!

He also got an extra lap at practice from Miyaji lol but he decided not to tell you that part

Kise

Is very busy and it's sometimes hard to make time for you :(

And you also couldn't show him affection in public or be around him because his fangirls would throw a hissy fit

He hasn't been answering his phone and he can't really get that close to you at school so you've been feeling left behind

When you finally managed to catch him, you said you wanted to go out and just catch up because you two haven't spent much time together and he agreed

However Kise forgot about the plans and you were waiting at the restaurant, alone.

You went home that night upset, tired, and wondering if you even want to be in a relationship anymore

You stopped texting him and talking to talk to him at school, not that you even had that much time to talk to him and school anyway

Kise had realised a whole day later that he had forgotten about the plans you two had made together

He took off from work the whole week, even though his manager was mad about it and went off to find you

He found you at a park after school and approached you with flowers in his hand

"Y/N baby I'm so sorry I forgot about our date. I can't imagine how you must've felt and to make up for it I called the whole week off! I'm really, really sorry that I havent had time for you. Do you forgive me?"

"Yeah, I forgive you Kise I'm just really hurt that you stood me up. You knew we hadn't spent alot of time together and I was really hoping to catch up with you that night. But I'm just happy you're here."

He takes you to a concert! Your favorite artist was in town and he bought tickets for the two of you!

The whole week was filled with fun, love, and lots of conversations :)

He promises to make more time for you and be there for you whenever he can!

He also posts you on his socials and shows you affection at school, showing his fangirls that he's not for them, but for you and they can go away of they don't like that

Aomine

You feel like he doesn't put any effort into the relationship

It's always you doing everything, it just gets tiring

He doesn't really make an effort to do anything, like plan dates, hang out, or just spend time together

He also uses basketball as an excuse to not hang out with you when you already know he's not at practice

Like if you want alone time man just say that

So you had planned a date for you two, nothing big just going to the movie theaters yk

He cancelled last minute, saying Imayoshi was forcing him to come to practice

It was a sunday, they don't have practice in sunday

You talked to Momoi as she is a close friend of yours too, about how you feel like you're the only one making an effort and that you feel like he doesn't want to spend time with you

She tells you to confront him about it, so you do

The next time Daiki comes to your house you ask him about it

"It just feels like I'm the only one putting work into the relationship and I feel like you're avoiding me. You make up excuses to not be with me and bail on me last minute...do you even want to be with me? And if you do want alone time just be upfront about it, don't give me terrible excuses or flake out on me."

Aomine honestly didn't know you felt that way

Now that he looks back at it, it has been mainly you doing most of the stuff in the relationship, and he can see why you feel like it's only you trying

"You're right, it has been mainly you doing stuff for both of us. I'm gonna start putting in more effort because it's time I do. I'm sorry that I've been making shitty excuses to not hang out with you, and cancelling all of a sudden. I'll be honest when I don't feel like going out and I'll spend more time with you."

He makes it up to you by taking you to a festival and going to see a movie with you

True to his word, he starts putting more effort into y'alls relationship and you two take turns planning dates

And if he doesn't feel like going out you guys have at home dates instead :)

I know this took a little longer than usual, I'm sorry for the little setback. Hopefully you like them! Thank you for requesting and feedback is appreciated! Love you <333

[donutloverxo]

NO BUT LIKE CONCEPT: SMUT HC where mob!steve comes back from a rough night that leaves him very much outta it and ur the only one who can help him ... in more ways than one

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

I'm making this a drabble cause I can't work with HCs. Thank you❤ Warmings -explicit sexual content, dom Steve, daddy kink, spanking, blood and wounds, bullets. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

You put some distance between your poor ear and your phone upon hearing your friends loud screech, excited since she saw your Instagram post of your new engagement ring.

"It is so beautiful! And so unconventional and unique too!"

"Mm-hm," you hummed, applying a second coat of your fiery red nail paint, to make it more intense, you just knew it'd look amazing against Steve's pale skin, he absolutely loved it when you scratched him and were a bit rough with him.

You never gave him any pointers on what kind of engagement ring you'd like, only thing that was a bit too obvious - which you never actually needed to say - was that you loved shiny things. So he has gotten you a ring with a huge sapphire ruby and tiny sparkly diamonds adorning the band. It was everything you needed and more.

"Makes sense because our relationship is anything but conventional." Where he had never directly said that his job involved a few things that were kind of, sort of, illegal but you weren't an idiot, it didn't take you long to figure out.

You knew he was important and rich when he asked you out, not just because he wore fancy clothes, but the way he carried himself, tall and proud and an aura that dominated any room he was in, two bodyguards always around him, and when you both started getting serious he assigned Peter, who was sort of an intern or newbie from what you gathered, to always escort you places and take care of you.

Maybe it wasn't exactly the most rational thing to do - marrying someone who was as feared as he was respected - but all you knew was that he was a good man and you had faith in him, so you stayed away from that part of his life.

"You must be planning the wedding now," she beamed over the phone.

You scoffed, blowing on your fingers, "No, he's always at work these days. It's so annoying, if it doesn't change then I'm leaving and taking the ring with me."

You looked at it sparkling on your finger, it was too beautiful to part with. Besides it became yours as soon as he gave it to you.

"You're late, but there's nothing new about that," you puffed out your cheeks, hands crosses under your chest, as he loosened his tie and worked on taking off his shoes. He had been coming home past midnight for the last month, enough was enough!

"Doll," he groaned, looking at you and ready to tell you off and ask for some space, but then he saw you. In a satin babydoll that barely covered you, with lace trimmings that did nothing to hide your soft nipples, your toes and nails painted just the color he liked, and you were wearing those ridiculous fluffy slippers with bunny ears that he had grown to love.

His mouth opened and then shut like a damn goldfish, forgetting what he was about to tell you.

"Steven," you furrowed your brows.

He knew he was in trouble as soon as you called out his full name. "Yeah?"

"When are we going to discuss the wedding?"

"I'm sorry, doll, work has been hectic these days. But soon."

"Soon? Soon doesn't do it for me," jutting your hip and leaning against the door to your walk in closet, "I need an exact date."

"I can't give it to you right now, puppy," his jaw clenching as you rolled your eyes, "Watch yourself, sweetheart. I had a long day, you don't wanna get on my bad side today."

"You shouldn't have put a rock on it if you didn't intend on marrying me," rolling your eyes extra hard just to get on his nerves.

"I do want to marry you. But right now... you're sort of making me have second thoughts."

He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth. Because you looked about ready to smack him.

"Fine then. I guess I'll leave and go live with my mother from now on. She would be happy for sure, she isn't too thrilled about our engage - " you stopped your rant as soon as you noticed crimson seeping through his crisp white undershirt as he took off his coat.

Your eyes as wide as saucers, your heart beating fast and hard in your chest and you could feel your eyes getting watery. You weren't handing out empty threats, you were definitely serious about leaving. Just to remind Steve of just how much he loves you.

It wouldn't be the first time. You had done it once before, when you went back to live at your apartment because he yelled at you for going out with your girlfriends without Peter. You didn't need a babysitter, especially not one who was several years younger than you. You had gathered up your things from Steve's penthouse and went home with a heavy heart. You loved him with all your heart, but there was no way you could make it work with someone who was that controlling and mean to you.

But he came to you, literally got on his knees to apologize and to beg for you to take him back. He even made you give up your apartment and got you a bigger house for you both to live in. Just so you couldn't take off ever again.

"Steve... your bleeding..." you said as you held back a sob. Any anger you had towards him was now gone.

"Oh, shit," he looked down to his side, "Must've ruptured the stitch or something..."

You walked over to him, holding onto his waist and looking up at him, trying not to look at his wound. You weren't that squimish around blood, it rarely ever bothered you, but this was your Stevie, and he was hurt. "What happened?"

"Its... It's nothing, doll. It was an accident."

"Yeah, I guess you slipped and fell on a bullet," you huffed.

"No, the bullet barely grazed me. And you know I don't like talking about those things with you."

"Why? I'm not stupid or weak, I have a right to know."

"Of course, not, puppy. You're my sweet, strong, smart girl," he cooed, bending a bit to peck your lips and then groaning. "Gotta, be careful with this," he said as your fingers worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

"If I'm so strong and smart then tell me what happened," you asked as you pushed his shirt off his shoulders. You didn't stop to marvel at his huge and perfect body like you always do, you looked at the fresh batch on stitches right over his hips.

"No, puppy. You're too good for that world, too good for me," he groaned as he sat down on the little pink couch he had put in the closet for you. Since you spent hours trying to pick outfits, he didn't want you standing too long and hurting your feet.

"Fine then don't tell me," you whimpered, rubbing your tears off with the back of your hand.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. I'm right here, not going anywhere," he tried to pull you into his lap, usually he wouldn't even have to ask for you sit on it, but right now you were pulling away and refusing for some reason, "C'mere, doll," he almost whined. Not used to being told no by you anymore than you were by him.

"No, I don't wanna hurt you," you hiccuped, as your sobs started to calm down.

"You wouldn't. You could never hurt me. C'mere I wanna cuddle you and make you feel better," he tried to pull you into him again but you just shook your head.

"I should be the one making you better. Not the other way around. But I don't know how to..." you swayed from side to side, suddenly ashamed of your brash behavior from earlier. "I'm sorry, I was being such a brat earlier."

"It's okay, puppy. I forgive you. You were right, we need to fix a date and find a venue and get you a pretty dress. I wanna see you in one of those poffy gowns, like a princess."

"That's called a ballgown," you said proudly, having done your research now. You knew all about the styles of the gowns, sleeves, necklines, colors and everything. "And you're not going to be involved in dress shopping process. Grooms aren't supposed to see the dress before the wedding it's bad luck."

He hummed at that, a bit disappointed but he would eventually see it, and then take it off, so it wasn't a huge loss. "Yes, you're right. But, let's not forget, you were a bad girl."

You gasped incredulously, "Well, you were being a bad fiance!" Which earned you a swift smack to your backside, making you yelp and fall forward, holding onto his shoulders for support.

"I didn't mind you calling me out for that. I want you to be honest with me and tell me everything. But you threatened to leave me, again."

You pouted. Offended for being called out so blatantly. Yeah you always made empty threats, packed up your bags just for show, whenever you didn't get your way. Never considering his feelings when yours were hurt.

"Sorry," you mumbled.

"I forgive you. I know you didn't mean it. But I'll have to teach you your lesson. Just so you know better next time."

You nodded your head, which made him spank you once more, "Yes, daddy!"

"Good. How many do you think you deserve?"

"Um... Fifteen. Ten for threatening to leave, and five for giving you attitude."

"See, you're so smart. I'll punish you tomorrow though. I'm tired right now," he groaned as he sat back against the couch, squeezing your hips and admiring your figure, showing through the thin material of your nightie.

"Um, daddy?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Is there anyway I can make you feel better right now?"

"Yeah, you can give me a kiss. You didn't give me one this morning when I left, or when I came back."

"Okay, I'll kiss you. But I also wanted to do more..." you murmured, your face burned hot as you realised that Steve was going to make you say what you wanted to do.

"Like what?"

"Like, take your cock down my throat. Would that make you feel better? I'll try and be careful about your stitches." Truth be told you missed being intimate with him, you needed it as much as he did.

"It definitely would make me feel better. But I want to have you close to me," he stroked the inside of your thighs, hands dangerously close to your cunt, "Why don't you, come ride my cock. Just like I taught you, hm?"

"But - what if I hurt you..." you whined. But he wasn't having any of it, rolling your panties down your legs.

"You wouldn't, puppy, come on we'll be careful. Be quick."

You gave him a meek nod, unzipping him with shaky fingers, giving his glorious cock a couple of pumps before straddling his lap. You made sure to not put any pressure on his lap. Lining his cock up to your pussy with your hands wrapped around his neck, you slowly sanked down on him.

First giving him a nice and thorough kiss to make him for not kissing him goodbye or welcome home like you always do. "I feel so full," you say against his lips.

He hummed, squeezing your ass, "I was made for you, angel. As you were for me." He slid the straps of your nightie down your arms, exposing your breasts to him. He made sure to shower them with all his lips, sucking, kissing and biting and pulling with his mouth. You were making the sweetest of noises, trying to keep your moans in as he helped you bounce on his cock by holding onto your hips.

"You're doing so good. Being such a good girl for me. My sweet, best girl," he cooed, kissing your forehead, he knew how you were still vulnerable to be on top.

"Am I making you feel better, daddy?" you sniffled, his cock hiting you in all the right places, making it impossible for you to keep going and hold off your climax.

"I'm all better already, thanks to you, puppy."

[daisies-and-buttercups]

“Love and War - Chapter III” - Luca Changretta x reader

Summary: You’ve picked a side, and now you have to deal with the aftermath. 

A/N: When I started this fic I had a decent outline what I wanted to happen but my ideas sorta ended with this part. However, I’m loving where this is going and I have some more ideas, so there probably will be a few more chapters 👀  Either way, I want to thank everyone that liked and commented, not only on this fic but in general, it always makes me so happy and it really means a lot 💕

Words: 3.4k

Chapter I Chapter II

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Your house was now used to your incessant walking, the wood singing along as you stood on it over and over, pacing from one room to the other, picking the phone up, sighing, falling on the bed for a short moment before starting the routine all over again. 

By morning you had slept for only a few hours, the ghost of Arthur visiting you in your dreams to blame you for his death, shaking you up until you woke up. The sun was now high, making you jump up to reach the phone. You weren’t backing down, you’d have no more deaths.

The phone rang consistently, bothering Ada enough to make her pick it up, ignoring Tommy’s order against it.  “What?” Her tone was annoyed, but she understood once she heard yours, nervous and desperate. “Ada? Ada! I need to know where they are. I’m not having them kill each other.”  “Oh darling, I… I can’t. Tommy was adamant about not letting you know.” Her tone was now softer, having missed your conversations and feeling the desperation in your voice. “Ada, please. I covered you when you and Freddie-“ “Is this a me-and-Freddie situation?” “What?” “Is he your Freddie?”  Your fingers tapped on the table, looking up at the flowers that had started to wither. You had pressed the nicest ones in a book, but couldn’t bring yourself to throw the rest away and, even if dried out, they still somehow looked good, so you kept them.  Was he your Freddie? He definitely felt like what Ada had described all those years ago, the feelings she described so vividly were now also your own. You hadn’t spent long enough with him to truly know, but you didn’t want him to die before you had the chance to figure it out. “I don’t know, Ada. I think so.”  Her sigh was the only sign, along with your impatient tapping, that time was still flowing.  “The distillery. Tommy left not too long ago, so I’d rush there.”  You groaned and ran to get your shoes, running back to the phone to thank her. “You didn’t hear it from me, you hear me! Not from me!” She repeated over and over, hoping that you wouldn’t be the victim of the day. She really didn’t want to lose a friend. 

The roads were deserted as you ran past the first buildings, spotting the distillery in the distance.  You turned the corner, trying not to run the final meters that separated you from whatever was going on inside, thinking it wise to listen to what was happening before jumping into a situation you might not know how to handle, but stopped dead in your tracks. Someone stood outside the door, taking a few steps, listening, scratching his head and checking his gun. Someone that looked a lot like… “Arthur?”  He turned and faced you, smiling but quickly placing a finger over his lips, letting you know to be quiet. You walked fast again, walking over to him and crashing against his chest, pulling him in a quick hug, but freezing when you realised why he was out here. He wasn’t alone, but the men stayed back, leaving you the space to talk, holding their guns in clear sight nonetheless.  “How are you doing, love?” He whispered. “You’re… you’re meant to be dead.” “Hope it’s not too disappointing to see me still standing, dear” he laughed softly, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I’d suggest leaving now, it ain’t gonna be pretty.” he motioned to the gun, glancing inside while focusing for a moment on the voices that could faintly be heard. You stood still, listening along and hearing Luca speak, then the sound of banging and glass breaking, the clear sound of a fight.  It was the vortex of emotions swirling in your steps that kept you there, trying to make sense of the situation. Your image of Luca had been shifted because of Arthur’s death, only to now find him standing there, armed, ready for a fight. And you knew who the bullets in his barrel were for. “Ah, that’s my cue. See ya, love.”  You weren’t sure if it was the sound of your heartbeat or of your footsteps, but before he had time to react you slipped past him, holding your stare straight ahead of you, the colour of blood painting your thoughts. It was rage, that rage that had never been strong, that always came when you weren’t part of Tommy’s plans. When you had to stay behind. When it was better if you didn’t know. You wasted all your tears on a man that wasn’t dead, not an ounce of regret in anybody’s mind when you walked in. 

The first thing you saw was Tommy’s expression drop when his eyes landed on you, the only person that could’ve complicated this further. Then you saw Luca.  His face wasn’t the same as when you last saw it. Gashes decorated it, his eye was swollen and his lips hung open, showing you the damage dealt in its full glory. It was a gruesome show, only made worse by the stares that you received for being there.  Tommy was holding him up when you walked in, the faint glimmer of surprise passing through his eyes, expecting Arthur to walk in, not you. But to see you walk over  to the bloodied man… maybe that’s what made him truly speechless. When you reached Luca you stopped, looking at his injuries for only a second before hearing Arthur cock his gun.  “Get away from him, sweetheart. I told you to leave.”  You turned slowly, first meeting Thomas’ cold stare and then facing the gun that was pointed at you, crossing your arms in defiance. “I’m not going anywhere, Arthur. Shoot me, I’m not leaving.”  Luca called your name, pulling you weakly away, trying to get you to stand behind him. He wouldn’t have you get killed over his life. But you didn’t move, asserting your position once more in front of the man, planting your feet harshly against the ground.  You saw Arthur’s eyes wander between you and Tommy, unsure as to what to do. You all waited for the next move, the only sound being Luca’s demands for you to leave as he clung to you, trying to get you to leave. “Go.”  Tommy spoke through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed on your hand, the one that gripped on to Luca’s. He couldn’t watch you, so worried for the life of that man. A person he had considered a friend, a helper, family, even, now standing on the enemy’s side.  You had been Luca’s only request. He didn’t care about the rest, but he wanted you to leave with him, if that was what you desired, and he didn’t want anyone trying to stop you. He wanted you, and that made Tommy’s blood boil, but he played his part, knowing full well that he had the upper hand. He knew that there's no leaving, not for you and not for him. There was nothing to go back to either way. Luca was never going to leave alive in Tommy’s eyes, but when you crossed the threshold the illusion shattered. The way you looked at him made it clear that you’d be willing to risk more than your life for the Italian. He’d been a fool, maybe, but there had always been something about your ways. He knew you, cared for you, and underestimated you all at the same time. In his eyes you’d always follow him like a lost puppy, just like Arthur did, but you were strong enough to break from his spell and get away. “Now!” he shouted, walking over to Arthur and ripping his gun out of his hands, aiming it at you, allowing his emotions to leave him, falling back into his new reality. You were an enemy now too, and he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.  A small flinch and the beginning of a tear was all that you allowed him to see before you moved, cringing at the sound of Luca grunting in pain at your movement, trying to pull him up somewhat gently, but not allowing him to see that, no matter where you stood now, this still hurt. 

Feeling your heart beat in your chest, you focused on the gun aimed at you for a moment, stopping at the door to look each one of them in the eyes. Tommy’s gaze didn’t falter, menacing and cold, while Arthur couldn’t look at you, moving away from where you stood, realising the side you chose didn’t match his own.  You had often sat with Arthur, the two of you ignored on many occasions and gave you an extra reason to bond, and he cared deeply for you, but he wouldn’t go against Tommy, not even to look at you to show you that he somehow wasn’t mad, just surprised and disappointed at your choice. 

While you walked out of the door, no man followed you, making it clear that Luca’s men were no longer his, Matteo standing still behind you, not daring to look up and meet Luca’s eyes, clutching his rifle tightly against his chest.   “I should be the hero coming to save you, not vice versa.”  “Yeah, well, maybe next time.” You muttered, struggling to walk while carrying most of his body weight.  You weren’t sure what other damage he had apart from his face, but his limping and laboured breathing suggested that other parts of his body had been wounded too. He pretended to be fine, taking steady steps before falling back onto you with a grunt, whispering a mix of Italian swear words and apologies. 

The moment you crossed the threshold of your house you walked him over to the sofa, finding the phone and calling the doctor before gathering anything useful that you could find, cursing at yourself for not being more organised.  “You could’ve died.” he spoke, his voice coarse as you made your way back to him with the various creams. “You’re a goddamn fool.” You muttered, dabbing his wounds, making him flinch and hiss in pain.  “Gentle, love.” He tried to joke, moving away from you, only to stop when the pain between his ribs got worse.  “I wouldn’t have to be gentle if you weren’t such an idiot.” You answered back, scoffing but softening your touches nonetheless. The doctor was going to be here soon, so you decided to focus on the various cuts, moving as gently as you could, wiping away the blood and removing any piece of glass still stuck in his skin.  “Never do that again.” He spoke seriously now, moving ever so slightly while you took care of him, lifting his hand to wipe some of his blood that had gotten on your cheek.  “Never do what again, save your ass?”  “Stand between me and a gun.” It had been a bold move, trusting your gut, knowing that Arthur wouldn’t shoot at you, even when your brain was cursing at you to get out of the way, but you weren’t sure if that made all the difference. You hadn’t thought about it, you just felt the need to stand in front of him, to shield him, whatever the outcome.  “Then next time be on the right end of it.”  Your movements were stopped by his hand gripping yours, holding the blood-stained rag still, some of the drops dripping down your arms, colouring your skin with faint red lines. “That was my intention and always has been, I can assure you, but in no circumstance I want you to take a bullet for me.” His eyes wandered, looking at you while you took care of him. He couldn’t have hoped for a better sight, yet something about the scene before him tugged at something deep within him. The fear of what he thought he could never achieve being right in front of him, maybe.  “Turns out I am here to clean up your wounds in the end, eh?” you joked, trying to wipe the serious look off his face along with all the blood.  “Y’ won’t want to kiss me anymore, with all these cuts. Too many scars.” “Who said I ever wanted to kiss you in the first place?” It was a harmless joke, proved for good measure by the soft kiss you placed on his lips, the meeting of your tongues enticed by both of your lips curving into a soft smile, the feeling of finally belonging somewhere filling your chest. “You never seemed to mind, dear.”  “I’ll always want to kiss you.” You added, letting the truth run free. He laughed, his eyes crinkling as he smiled, gently caressing your face with his fingertips, tracing invisible lines.  “No good came from kissing this old man, sweetheart. You-“ his words were interrupted by the timid knock on the door. He watched as you rose, making your way to the door, welcoming the doctor in and gesturing towards Luca, quickly explaining that you tended his external wounds and needed some help at assessing the internal ones. He looked away, nodding at the annoyance of being interrupted. 

“He’s got a broken rib. It will take him up to two months to fully recover, but in a week or two the pain should lessen. He’s also running a low fever. Everything seems under control, but if it rises you’ll have to monitor his condition.” The small man talked quietly, as if he didn’t want Luca to hear. Timid steps made him grow closer to the exit with each word he spoke, evidently eager to leave. “Thank you, doctor.”  He nodded, turning to walk away, stopping just before the door to glance behind him, looking at Luca, now standing tall behind you. “Is there a problem?” You asked, feeling the tension rise. You knew that Tommy had men all over town, but you didn’t want to believe that the doctor that had been helping you for years might be close to turning on you.  “They told me to deliver a message.”  A message. Through a man, rather than a phone call. Was that too personal for him now? They had no issue telling you about Arthur’s supposed death by phone, but now that he was threatening you, he used someone else’s voice.  “Have they, now?” Luca’s words were raspy, still out of breath from the movement and the pain, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating in the doctor’s eyes.  He was shorter than both of you, a small and round man, and, even with a broken rib and in pain, he knew Luca could easily overpower him if he so wished.  “They… Mr. Shelby said that you’ve got to leave. You’ve got until tomorrow. If you’re not-“ he took a deep breath, trying to steady his trembling voice, “if you’re not on the last ship out of here they’d…” he trailed on, not wanting to anger either of you. A quick glance at you and he nodded, rushing out of the door, closing it behind him in a haste, eager to get away. You turned, letting out an exasperated sigh while Luca stood behind you, considering the doctor’s words. He hadn’t looked at you, only at him, which meant that it was very likely that their appreciation for you over the years had counted for something. They wouldn’t kill you.  “I’ll pack my bags.” It wasn’t a question, there was no doubt that you’d follow him. Life with the Shelby’s had been a blessing, some of the best years of your life, but you doubted Tommy would welcome you back, at least not so soon. There was nothing left for you here, not in the land of Thomas Shelby.  “He’s not after you.” he tried to stop you from grabbing the bag, grabbing a hold of your hand as he spoke, holding you in place. You moved to face him, studying his expression. A lot of Luca came from his eyes, using his words to charm and threaten and keeping his secrets hidden deep inside. “But he’s after you.” “You’ve got a life here.”  “I had a life here.” you answered, feeling the electricity of a new start in the air. “If I stayed I’d have to find a job, and not only are most businesses owned by the Blinders, but those that aren’t wouldn’t welcome someone that got away from them on bad terms. They’re feared, and I’d just make whoever wanted me a target. I made a choice, Luca, and you’re not getting rid of me so easily.” you laughed, moving closer to him and caressing his cheek, gently, avoiding the small cuts. “I get to start over.” He smiled at your words, wishing he had your way of seeing things, the simpler ones, his eyes now trained to see the thousands of possibilities and dangers that his way of life offered him so easily, yet ignoring the other possibilities, the ones that weren’t deadly. You complemented each other, lacking what the other was strongest in. And while he looked at you, all he saw was the image of the wife he never could’ve dreamed of having, hoping that one day you’d be just that. He smiled again at the thought, watching you as you walked back to your bed, opening your bag to pack your belongings.  “America?” you asked, choosing the limited clothes you could bring. You could buy more once you arrived there, but you were sentimental and some had to come; the dress you wore on your first day in Small Heath, the one you had on when you saw Ada’s kid for the first time, and the few dresses you wore with Luca. You placed them all neatly, feeling the soft fabric under your hands, picking a few other items to fill the bag. A photograph of you, Polly and Ada, all smiling proud, a pearl necklace that made you feel like you could rule the world, along with a few memories of your years in England. He nodded, still deep in thought. “Will Matteo be joining us later on?” “Matteo’s with the Blinders now.” “Is he?” you smiled at him, knowing that the truth wasn’t that simple, and when he looked at you, you knew you were right. The mafia didn’t work with money, but with honour. It was a different world from Tommy’s, and Matteo wasn’t going to bail on the Changretta family just for some extra money. “There’s only two ships leaving, one tonight and one tomorrow.” He watched you from the mirror, his fingers lightly dragging over his wounds while he was deep in thought. “They’ll know where to find us.” you spoke the implication out loud, giving you the time to think of a solution. “So what if we don’t go to America?” He stood, his eyes closing at the brusk movements, still not used to the level of care he needed to take when he moved, making his way to the small table where a bottle of wine had been discarded the night before, half of its contents still in it, two glasses lined up next to it but only one used.  “My family needs me.” “Yeah, alive.” “The Shelby’s have fucked with the business, I’ve got to fix their deeds.”  “But you can’t fix anything if they kill us tomorrow.” he opened his mouth, ready to protest, but you continued “I’m talking about one extra day, one stop before heading to America.”  The wine was sweet, calming his nerves in the slightest of ways. “What do you suggest?”  “Call your family, fill them in on what they haven’t figured out on their own. Then we pack our things, spend the night in each other's arms and when we wake up, we leave. The ship sets sail tomorrow at 9am.”  “You’ve planned this.” You nodded, looking at the man that stood before you with a pleased smile. You had spent enough time alone with your thoughts to come up with more than one plan, and this one was your favourite. A simple exit. You picked up the papers, the tickets for your journey, that had been abandoned on the desk, handing them to him with a wink.  “Italy. You’ve got family over there too, right? I’m sure you’ll be able to secure us a place to sleep for the night, and if not I guess we’ll just have to sleep under the stars.” You raised your hand dramatically, moving your fingers around an imaginary constellation. “Then we leave for America. One day, a small change in plan, and we’ll have the Shelby’s waiting for us here. Wrong place, wrong time, but not for us. And once we arrive, you’ll have all the time to fix what needs to be fixed. Deal?”  He took a second to think about it, pursing his lips in thought, watching as you waited patiently, switching your weight from one leg to the other. Then he nodded, your hands lifting in victory as you approached him, softly placing your arms on his shoulders.

“We have a deal.” 

[onmyyan]

Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.

A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence

Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista

Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.

Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.

Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?

Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?

[moon-lixie]

"Were you this touch deprived?" The amusement could be easily missed in between the calm of your voice that threatened to melt under his fingertips.

"Yes," he answered immediately, no time for thinking needed, "when it comes to you I'm always touch deprived, I can never get enough of you."

word count: 1.970k

genre: fluff, Hyunjin x gn reader.

song: Wrong About Forever - Jeff Bernat

Every great waltz has its spins that make you feel like you're flying as the music pushes you further, Hyunjin wasn't a stranger to this concept, nor was he ignorant to the part in which the two people dancing move apart, stretching their arms as far apart as physically possible while their hands stay clasped together.

He, more than anybody, knew what it was to dance, to give yourself to music and get lost quicker than he could even realise.

What he wasn't familiar with were the matters of the heart, at that he had always been clumsy and hesitant, comparing love to a dance.

That's exactly why he could never understand when you walked away; his mind couldn't wrap itself around the concept of you leaving for good, in his heart there was always hope for a last dance.

Your face was carved into his memory, he could draw your every feature down on paper as easily as he could dance with his eyes closed.

Loving you wasn't a rational decision, it was an impulse, something he had grown to adore despite the difficulties it brought along.

The music filling the room suddenly faded, leaving behind the thrumming of his heart reverberating in his eardrums.

He had to admit there was always a bitter taste when that moment arrived, his body not being able to push any further and the music coming to an end.

If it was his decision then he would spend every second of his life doing the things that he loved, without the need of a break, without knowing what an ending meant.

But wishful thinking only ended up hurting his heart, bruising it carelessly as if he wasn't the type to hope on behalf of the entire world.

With a loud exhale he allowed himself to relax, shoulders loosening and eyes opening slowly, as if rushing through the process would be a mistake.

The first thing he saw was his reflection, the rolled sleeves of his shirt, hair clamped together on the front of his face because of his effort, lips parted and chasing an extra breath.

His surroundings were one of those places that gave comfort due to the long time it had been the background of his happiness, his passion for what he did had been sprawled all across the room.

Dragging his feet across the wooden floor, he scrambled to gather his things, barely remembering to grab his phone that had been discarded on the couch when he arrived if it hadn't been for the light buzzing sound coming from it.

The device loomed like a threat over his heart, having the ability to mend everything or put an end to one of those things he loved with an inimaginable fervor.

An unseen message had been sent in blue, waiting impatiently despite not being the first one sent between the both of you.

You had contacted him first; after two weeks of radio silence you had sent four words his way, typical of you.

'Can I call you?' It was unknown to him how long he had spent staring at the dark screen, forcing his eyes to trace the eleven characters that shaped your unorthodox way of asking for forgiveness.

Forgiveness for what? That he no longer knew, perhaps this time you had gotten scared of how ever so well you two worked together and that's why you had decided to walk away, or maybe there was a chance you had just gotten tired of him, again.

The game the both of you played didn't feel like the typical love he saw portrayed in movies but he couldn't find it in him to care, after all, dancing around you had never bothered him in the slightest.

With trembling fingers he had typed an answer, one word, three letters, a simple affirmation.

He tried to be quick, direct and concise; searching the deepest corners of his mind for the answer that could please you the most and immediately regretting the dry response.

But what had been done already wasn't something that should trouble his mind, even if it came to you, the person he craved to have by his side the most.

So, he had abandoned the mobile as soon as he stepped foot in the dance studio, leaving it screen against the couch in hopes that would soothe his anxious heart if only for long enough to enjoy his dancing.

Now that it buzzed with the call that could be the one he couldn't help but walk cautiously forward and take deep breaths before picking up.

"You're done with dance practice, right?" If he had ever wanted to get high on something, it was your voice, along with every single detail about you.

His lips curled into a satisfied smile. "Oh, so you do remember my number?"

A dry chuckle resonated on the line, forcing his mind to picture the scowl twisting the features of your beautiful face, portraying the guilt you never owned up to in front of him.

"Are you free?" Of course you would dodge his comment, but yet again, he couldn't bring himself to care, simply humming in affirmation.

"Okay, then see you in a bit."

Dumbfounded, an amused laugh found its way out of his lips. "Should I know what you mean by that?"

The harmless exasperation painted itself across your every word as you answered. "Do I really need to spell it out for you, Hwang?"

He was inexperienced when it came to love, very much so, but he was an expert when it came to you, always knowing what you meant, what you wanted, the things you needed.

Walking in the direction to your apartment he answered, "I'm afraid yes, I can't know what you mean if you don't explain it, now can I?"

You laughed annoyed, staying in silence for a moment; he couldn't have pushed things far enough yet, he could never, because you happened to love him just as much as he loved you.

"I miss you, okay? Happy now?"

"Very," he said, lips curling in a lovesick grin that shielded him even from the way you abruptly ended the call.

No matter how much you tried to walk away from him, suddenly cutting yourself from his life, you always came back, always stayed in the tiniest of details around him.

Perhaps that had been his mistake, to accept you even with that quirk of getting cold feet, because if only he had stopped it at once then it wouldn't have become a habit, a necessary routine.

But to love is to get tangled so awfully that you can't find your way out, only further falling into the mess of affection and longing.

The two of you just had your special way of working and tackling things, for instance, you hadn't talked to him for half a month and still your spare key remained under the pot of his favourite flower of yours.

Victory grin plastered on, he reached for the metal piece, opening the door of your apartment as if it were his very own home.

Alerted by his steps at the entrance you came to greet him, arms crossed over your chest as if to keep a final barrier between you and the man that owned your heart.

"I missed you too." Was the very first thing he said once he found your eyes staring right at his; it made you smile and he felt accomplished.

"Of course you did." His words melted you in an instant, making you move closer to him and take his hand in yours. "You always do."

And how could he not? How could he bring himself not to miss someone like you? Someone whose mere presence was intoxicating, seeping inside his muscles and veins, putting his being at ease.

Gently, he allowed the pads of his fingers to trace the outline of your nose, your lips, your chin, before leaning in towards you.

A firm hand against his chest stopped him on his track, causing a question to paint his face with confusion.

"You're all sweaty and you stink." You scrunched your nose adorably, as if actually bothered by his smell. "Go take a shower."

"But I want to kiss you first." A pout made his lips stand out, well aware that it sometimes worked wonders with convincing you.

"Nope, no kisses while you're all smelly." And just like that the both of you were back to normal, not caring to drag things for longer than they should with explanations or apologies that fell into deaf ears.

Against your petition he moved forward and embraced you in his arms, suddenly set on stone in making you squeal in complaint.

Moments later dragging you towards the bathroom despite the verbal refusal that didn't match with your eager steps trailing behind him.

Leaving his things forgotten on the entrance along with whatever fear he had harbored in his heart about this time being the time you would leave his side for good, he closed the bathroom door and kissed you.

Your lips felt unfairly soft against his, warm as a blanket that shielded people from every possible unfavorable outcome life could have prepared for them.

Sure hands moving to clasp on the hem of your shirt, slowly moving it upwards the further he got lost into the kiss.

Piece by piece he undressed the both of you until you were down to heart and soul, truths lying bare for eyes to pry and discover the biggest vulnerability in them.

Knowing the place as well enough as his own home, he turned around to set the water into the perfect temperature for the both of you, never cold.

Then he led you like you needed to be held, careful and attentive, eyes never leaving yours in a new attempt to learn every detail embedded in your pupils.

He turned you around, pressing your back against his chest and hugging you close until there was no space in between, his lips finding the way to your shoulder, pressing soft kisses meant to fix any remnants of doubt.

"Were you this touch deprived?" The amusement could be easily missed in between the calm of your voice that threatened to melt under his fingertips.

"Yes," he answered immediately, no time for thinking needed, "when it comes to you I'm always touch deprived, I can never get enough of you."

He couldn't be more honest even if he was asked to testify in court and make a pledge that allowed him to say nothing but the absolute truth, because he loved you with an intensity that sometimes could be mistaken as meek due to it's soft and innocent nature.

Hyunjin loved you the way someone loves something unobtainable, innocent and patiently, willing to wait entire lifetimes for stars to align and give him the pleasure of being in your presence.

Your hands moved to rest atop his where they were clasped together against your bare torso, thumbs escaping to rub soothing circles into your skin.

Trailing kisses up your neck he allowed himself to hope that every one of his touches reverberated with warmth all the way to your heart in the same fashion that yours did to him.

For you he would learn how to love properly, he would even understand to let go if that was what you truly wanted at some point in the future.

"I love you." The words felt like dripping honey as they slipped in between his lips for the very first time.

"I love you too," you answered, not even leaving time for him to panic at the sudden frankness with which his deepest sentiment had been revealed.

For a love like yours, he would always wait, always fight to make things better.

[bakugohoex]

CONGRATS ON 1K!!! For the event, could you do Bakugo with Fluff #4??? It just seems so much like him

“because i’m fucking in love with you”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: language, fluff, kissing

word count: 2500+

a/n: i have to write a levi oneshot now, bruh i might just go sleep, who knows what i’m going to do

summary: in which bakugo watches you get too close with another man and can’t help but let his anger take over seeing you with anybody other him

1k event masterlist

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

Bakugo had many reasons to get angry on a warm summer day at the office. Being a pro hero had its ups and downs, the down being what was occurring today. Paperwork, he hated it with a passion, he loved the idea of fighting and defeating villains but the idea of writing it all up made his skin itch in disgust. Of course he had his sidekicks to help him, but they would never know the true extent of having to re-read over fights that occurred and signing it all off.

Bakugo still had other reasons that annoyed him, the weather had become broiling, his sidekicks were pissing him off and then there was you. You with your hero costume that looked tighter every time he saw it, you with the way you’d walk into a room and have everybody on your feet. You who had whipped him like a servant boy, he hated having to work alongside you. You had your own agency a couple blocks away from him, but ever since you both found out you took the same route. You’d come and annoyingly meet him throughout the day.

He hated it, and as he signed off on another report, his V neck not helping him at all, he heard the sounds of chatting from outside his office, that's when he saw it through the glass. The way you flaunted past the desks with your skimpy hero costume which he understood was for the best possible use of your quirk. But even then, it always cupped your body in just the right places. 

You seemed to have been waving at one of the new sidekicks Bakugo had recruited. He hated it, pen almost breaking from his anger, he watched as you didn't bother to knock only cascade inside with the looks of others following your pristine body. “What?”

“How rude, Bakugo! Is that any way to greet your favourite pro hero.” You mocked falling onto the chair with a hefty sign, he watched at how you were clearly out of breath with the way your chest heaved harshly. 

“Shut it, extra. What do you want?” He repeated.

You began playing with the stuff on his desk, he’d noticed how you always needed something in your hands and since he had always left a small jelly like plushie just for these moments. You happily put it in your hand pulling and stretching at it before looking up at him, “are you not coming for the patrol?”

“I got paperwork.” He signed as you saw the almost boxful of papers. 

“No fair, I'll just go on my own then.” You were about to stand up when he stopped you. 

“Get one of your sidekicks to go, idiot, help me with this.” He gestured to the paperwork that he knew wasn't the full extent as you both had decided to split it.

You gave another huff at him, “just because I’m organised doesn't mean i want to spend my Monday morning doing dreary paperwork.”

“I know you split it 70:30 so fucking help me.” He growled loudly making a shiver run down your spine. 

“So needy, Bakugo, let me just call them.” You gesture to your phone as you walked outside his office. You leant against the glass door, Bakugo’s eyes fixed to the way your ass and thighs had been pushed against the wall. He licked his lips as he stared longley at your body before hearing your sign. 

That's when he saw his new sidekick come up to you, of course he knew that the sidekick was only a couple years younger than the two of you. But he had a crush, the way his eyes lingered across your body, the way he passed you the coffee which you hadn’t even asked for. The way you laughed at his shitty joke, were you really flirting back with a man like that, Bakugo scowled before directing his eyes back to the paperwork. 

“I’ll make sure to come for you when I need some coffee.” You laughed at the boy as you opened the glass door. 

Bakugo heard the boy give a chuckle touching your arm as he let you go through the door. “Here do you want some?” You gestured to the coffee you had, noticing the empty coffee mug on the side of his desk. 

“No.” Bakugo muttered but nevertheless took the coffee and drank a large gulp of it. “Why don’t you get your little coffee boy to bring more?”

He was pissed not only had you let his stupid sidekick touch you, but you’d made him feel special as if he had your attention. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” You chucked the cup in the bin, going over to the box where you grabbed some files out. 

Bakugo didn’t make a remark instead letting you read over what had occurred and sign it off. “Bakugo.” You whispered halfway through your first file and already bored. “Bakugo.”

“What?” He questioned after he had seen you become more concentrated in the pen you held than the paperwork itself.

You stared at him with a bright smile, “we should get some lunch.”

“Y/n, it’s only half 10, it's a bit early for lunch.” He scowled, chucking the finished file into the complete pile.

“But I’m hungry.” You whined leaning against the cold desktop, it was white and probably made from marble, but it was the best bet of comfort you’d get from Bakugo’s office. 

“Go get some food then.” He muttered as you stood up all giddy. “Get me something as well.”

“Now who’s the hungry one.” You mocked as you happily skipped out of his office, he couldn't help but roll his eyes and give a slight smile to you. But that’s when he saw his stupid sidekick come up to you. His face faulted, his smile turning downwards as he watched you both converse and leave to the elevator.

“You really don’t have to come.” You spoke stepping into the elevator, you hated how vulnerable you felt with Bakugo, how easily he could stare at you and make you go weak at the knees. He was perfect, an amazing pro hero who was ahead of you in the charts by the couple of numbers. You were almost grateful that your paths had crossed and that you spent patrols together, but his sidekicks were a whole other thing. 

You knew the coffee boy had a crush; the whole department knew that. But how could you let a sweet boy down after all he did was such good things, how could you tell him you’d rather have his asshole of a boss than a sweetheart like him. “No, it’s fine, I was going that way anyway.”

“Oh why?” You questioned through the long elevator ride down.

“I had to buy some stuff for my sister's birthday and I'm on my break.” You nodded happily, not asking anymore through the uncomfortable silence as soon as the door dinged open, you both walked out, he had walked you to the bakery as you were craving a sandwich, he waited as you picked one you liked and one that Bakugo definitely likes. He didn't say a word until you spoke. 

“What are you thinking of getting your sister?” You asked walking with him into the store selling gifts. 

“What do you like, I mean girls like?” A heavy blush formed on his face as you began looking through the gifts. 

“I’d probably go for that drinks set, it’s cute if she of course drinks that is.”

He quickly spoke to ease your gaze, “she does.” He instantly grabs it going to pay, you didn't question his rash decision and you both walked back to the building. 

“I’m sure she’ll love it.” You smile out as you both step through the office again, Bakugo in an instant saw the two of you, bags in hand. 

“I hope so, thank you Y/n.” He smiles putting his hand on your shoulder, he goes in for a hug which you happily give, he was clearly nervous for his sister's birthday. Bakugo watched intensively, surprised at the hug as he stormed out of the doors of his office on a mission to grab you and take you with him. 

“Y/n.” He bellowed out. 

You both retreated from the hug, staring at the angry blond, “Bakugo, i bought sandwiches.” You happily smile out, rummaging through the bag to show him it, “and cupcakes.”

His face fell, a smile erupting that he didn't know he was even capable of, you looked so happy showing him the cupcakes with the pink frosting on them. “Come on.” He whispered watching you come beside him, his arm on your back guiding you inside. 

Bakugo guided you inside, watching you happily pull out the food, he saw how you moved the chair for visitors beside him making him move up. You were closer than he had expected, leaning across to grab the cupcakes and stuff one in your face. “You looked angry before?”

“I wasn't.” He muttered while taking a bite of the sandwich. 

“Don’t lie to me, what’s up?” You began to play with his other hand, he hadn't expected it but the way your hands had just met his own, the way you skimmed his veins and the rings that embodied his fingers. It felt like heaven, but your eyes gave a sense of doubt and resistance. 

“I...I just don’t like you spending time with that guy.” He spoke staring at you, your eyesight was on his hand still, the way you continued to play with his fingers before moving to the back of his hand. 

You took a sharp breath before speaking to yourself, “is it because of his crush on me?”

“You know about that?” 

“Of course I know Bakugo, I think everybody knows about it.” You whispered out softly.

“Is he your type?” Bakugo had gone against his words of jealousy, maybe if you admitted you liked coffee boy then he could move on more easily. 

You finally looked up at the blond, his piercing red eyes giving a look of caution, “he should be.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Bakugo moved his hand away from you, your unclear answer had made him a lot more pissed at the idea of you stringing both the men along. 

“I...I just mean that he’s nice y’know and he should be my type, but he’s not.” Bakugo’s anger seemed to calm down as he gave you a softer look. 

“Who is then?” Bakugo went to grab the cupcake you had bought for him ,taking a soft bite as the sweet frosting enchanted his mouth.

“You have frosting on your lips.” Bakugo went to lick it as you avoided his question entirely. 

“Y/n, who’s your type?” Bakugo repeated staring at you, in an instant you stood up not wanting to confess anything else. 

“I’m going to go see how my guys are doing.” You left him with no other word, he couldn't even stop you at how you almost ran away from the situation. Even if he had found out you didn't like the coffee boy you were now avoiding him which felt a lot worse.

Bakugo tried calling you but it went to miss call, he ended up finishing the rest of the paperwork and by the end of the day he knew you’d probably be hung up in your office, pushing yourself to do something other than talk to him. He began walking the short distance in the humid air, the sun was just about to set as he arrived at your agency. He always liked the vibe you had going on, even your sidekicks were okay, a lot better than his own. He was able to get inside with ease, walking the steps towards your office, he could see your shadow through the frosted glass. 

You seemed to be pacing on the phone to someone, but he couldn’t tell who until he was just in ear shot. “I can’t tell him that, he’s going to think these months have just been me being selfish.”

Bakugo couldn’t hear the other line but it raised more questions in the boys mind instead. He was careful about being unseen until he heard you continue. “He’s a fucking idiot, how could someone like him ever love me, I’m nothing special.”

He heard another long sign from you at the response from the other side before hearing you say your farewells and begin to pace about the room. Bakugo softly knocked against the door, hearing a come in as he walked inside, your office being as pristine as ever. You were no longer wearing your hero costume, assuming you had been on a patrol yourself at the tiredness that set in your eyes.

He saw you as a normal civilian at this moment, so sweet and innocent but you gave a glare. “How long were you listening in for?”

“I...I wasn't.” He stuttered out. 

“Bullshit, why the fuck were you listening into my private conversation?” You scowled again leaning against your desk.

Bakugo knew he was caught but in his idiocrasy decided to make the situation worse, “who’s the guy you’re talking about?”

“Why do you care?” You spoke stubbornly.

“Y/n, who’s the guy?” He repeated himself.

You faced the blond scowl on your face at his relentless pushing of an answer. “It’s nobody okay, I don’t even understand why you care so much?”

Bakugo’s anger rose at you hiding even more from him, how could he work alongside you if you were just going to keep him in the dark about some stupid guy that probably meant fuck all in the big picture. He knew this wasn't the true reason behind his anger though, he was jealous, some man you loved didn't love you back, and he was here with all his love to give.

“Because I’m fucking in love with you.” Bakugo shouted, the words spewing out without even realising. Bakugo’s eyes widened and so did your own, he looked at how your eyes had almost softened at the confession.

“You...You love me?” You questioned standing up to come closer to him. 

“I’m not repeatin…”

You quickly interrupt him, your bodies almost touching as your hand moves to his face making him stare right back at you. “I love you too.” You softly whispered before closing the gap between the two of you. His hand moved to your face guiding the kiss as he had to bend down to even meet you.

It was filled with passion and drive from the countless nights you both spent together in each other's office, the morning patrols together and even the galas you attended together as friends. Everything you both had wanted from each other had come down from a singular kiss in a small office in the middle of Japan.

A small moan escaped your lips, his tongue gliding in with such ease as he toyed with your own, almost sucking the spit and saliva that was across your own tongue. He let go taking a harsh breath and he brought your face closer to his, foreheads touching as he gave the softest look he possibly could. You stayed in his arms, just staring at each other with such love and passion, both knowing nothing could break you both now.

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[just-a-quirkless-loser]

Invective Pain

Alpha Bakugou x F!Omega Reader

Words: 2.4k

Requested by: @goatsenpaiultimate

Hehe, sorry for the wait you guys. It’s been a rough few weeks for me. Also, the song ‘Butterfly’s Repose’ by Zabawa is amazing to listen to while you read this💜

Warnings: harsh language, Bakugou being an asshole, angst

“Get the fuck off me.”

“Alpha, please.”

“I said, get off. What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been too clingy,” you prove his point and cling to his arm.

“I miss you,” you try to nuzzle his neck so he can scent you. With your wolf quirk, it was getting harder and harder to stay away from Bakugou for long periods of time. Your instincts were on hyperdrive, always wanting him within your reach so you knew he was safe.

“Don’t you understand what ‘no’ means?” Bakugou tenses up as you continue trying to climb his body. Due to his inability to express himself, he’s still not used to your affections.

“I can’t help it,” you ruffle your tail to prove your point.

“Well, try harder to help it.”

“But, alpha-“

“No, I’m sick and tired of your bullshit. As soon as I come home, you want to climb all over me. I can’t even take a fucking shower,” you hunch into yourself as you take a step away from him. Looking back on it, he did have a point. You could stand to at least allow him a few moments to himself before you bombard him. But, it’s just hard on you.

Because of your quirk, you’ve always been the type to cling to people and try to protect them. You miss your parents because you considered them to be your pack but, that all changed when you met Bakugou. After a few months of dating, you moved in with Bakugou (your inner Omega told you she’d love to start her own pack with him). However, it’s been a difficult transition.

Bakugou normally takes your clinginess in stride but, it’s been hard for him lately. All he wants to do is take you underneath him and nuzzle you and treat you like a queen. But, he’s been dealing with this case. It’s been stressing him out and he’s never been the type to deal with stress in a correct way.

“I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, I- FUCK! Omega. I just can’t keep doing this. You’re fucking annoying. This was a mistake. We shouldn’t have moved in together,” his words stung in your mind like a swarm of hornets, making you yelp in your mind. Although, no one would ever be able to tell your inner turmoil from the calm look on your face. Why does he have to tear you down with his words? What does he gain from your dissociation? Does it bring him satisfaction to win the argument? Even at the expense of your heart? The same heart he swore to protect when he chose you as a mate.

“I’m sorry,” and you don’t understand why. You just stand there with a blank expression, no longer feeling that your heart is safe in his hands. And, that is worse than losing an argument the two of you have.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. I’m tired of you sticking to my fucking side like a toddler. You’re always hovering over me. I need space,” you intend to give him all the space he needs. “Selfish extra.”

He doesn’t know what his words do to you as he goes to the room you share, bumping you out of his way. You want to cry, you want to chirp, you want to-to-die; without him-without your alpha- what is there to live for?

Your omega crawls to your heart, shriveling up like a raisin as if your soul has been sucked by a vacuum. You feel your heart drop; the first sign of Omega Depression and you don’t tell Katsuki. How can you?

He made it clear how bothersome you were in his life. You never meant to be a burden to him. All you wanted to do was love him and give him the love he lacked from his teenage years. But, it’s transparent that you’re not wanted by the person your soul has imprinted upon.

You sit on the couch, staring into nothingness. What did you do wrong? What was so wrong with wanting to love him? You feel weak. Maybe if Katsuki had someone stronger, someone who could take his invective words in stride, he’d be happier.

As you wallow in your own pain, Katsuki is upstairs taking a shower. Part of him feels relieved to finally have some space to himself and the other scolds him for what said; he barely remembers what he said to you exactly. All he knows that your face is blank so, he assumes it’s not too bad since you weren’t crying.

He walks out of the shower expecting to see you but, he’s greeted with an empty bed. He figures you just want space to be angry so, he lets you stay downstairs.

‘It’ll be fine tomorrow,’ it won’t. As he dozes off to that thought, you were downstairs stuck in your mind. It's your fault for always forgiving him after he’s verbally ruined you You just thought your love for him outweighed anything he said to you. But, your unconditional love has reached its limit.

You wait till he falls asleep before you break the facade (you still want him to get his sleep so he can wake up healthy tomorrow). You heave and whimper as you curl into a ball on the cold living room floor. You shake from the force of your tears, tears falling like rain in the spring. You’re trying to smile to stop the tears but, your mouth ends up in a horrible grimace as you silently berate yourself. Your hands scrape at your arms, nails taking patches of your skin as a way to distract your mind. You don’t sleep that night; you don’t sleep for any of the nights that follow.

When you hear your alpha’s alarm clock sound, you climb on the couch with your face smooshed to the cushions. Katsuki follows his nightly routine, not even checking to see if you’re okay. He just gets dressed for his patrol and leaves breakfast on the table for you, kissing your hair goodbye before he leaves out the door.

You’re once again crying as you just lay there. You don’t bother to call your job to notify them of your absence. If anything, you just lay there, your tail curled around your body as if it’s protecting you from the world.

You feel useless against your heart because you know you shouldn’t have allowed Bakugou’s temper to get to this point. You had suggested therapy and anger management to him many times but, he was persistent in telling you that he had it under control. You knew he thought seeking therapy was weak (as he thinks most things are weak) but, you just wanted him to think before he spoke.

You can tell that he’s tried to do better for you and you appreciate that but, it’s not enough anymore.

This was the last straw. Not because you still don’t love him but, because you’re now in your Omega’s Depression. It’s a fairly new phenomenon. The doctors warned Omegas and Alphas that their second genders could drive them into a comatose state if the genders were met with unfavorable conditions. Your omega has started the process and you can only hope that Katsuki figures that out before it’s too late.

At first, Bakugou didn’t think anything about your attitude. He just thought you were giving him space (which he hated. It feels weird to him to be alone when he was always with you and he’s too prideful to admit that) however, he knows something is wrong when you start to avoid him.

You don’t talk to him like you use to, you don’t cook his favorite spicy ramen anymore, hell, you don’t even come to bed anymore. It’s like two strangers living in the same house (well, roommates would be more accurate). And, he misses you.

“Why are you sleeping on that shitty couch?” He’s standing above you with his arms folded, head to the side so he can hide his blush. You don’t respond, dried tear stains on your cheeks.

“Not gonna answer? What you’re too good to speak to me?” He squats down to eye-level. His breath fans across your face, the smokey caramel of his scent bringing more tears to your eyes. “Omega?”

You still don’t answer. He takes that as you still being angry about the argument; he also notes the change in your scent.

“Tch,” he walks to the bedroom and comes back with a few blankets so he can make a small hammock beside the couch at your side. He slips into the covers, hand upon your waist so he can feel you. “Goodnight, Omega.”

The next day, you’re still in the same spot on the couch above him. He does his routine, this time spending longer at saying goodbye.

“I’ll be back, Omega. Cuddling wouldn’t be the worse thing when I get home,” you stare blankly.

“And, I put some of your favorite cookies on the table,” still nothing.

“I love you,” nothing. And, that’s how he knows that everything is wrong. He spends the day on patrol, withdrawn from his hero-work. All he can think about is that blank look in your eye, the stillness of your home, the taste of failure on his tongue.

‘I fucked up,’ he sure did.

He comes home and you're still in the same spot. He doesn’t even think you got up to use the bathroom. You’re the first thing he attends to when his boots cross the threshold.

“Omega, you need a bath,” you don’t move so he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bathroom. Your body is sweating and that stench gets even worse. “Omega, I’m sorry.”

But, sorry doesn’t fix everything. Sorry is nothing when you truly hurt someone. Sorry is when someone feels obligated to correct their wrongs (not because they want to). Sorry is the Black Licorice of apologies.

“Have you gone to work?” No. He knows you haven’t but, he just wants you to talk to him. His alpha cries for his mate yet, she doesn’t respond. “Baby?”

The bath is spent in silence as you sag on him. His hand's card through your (h/c) hair, trying to release some of your tension. It’s such an intimate moment of him caressing your body as though you are a precious work of art. His lips latched onto the mating mark on the side of your neck, reminding you that he cares.

When he gets you out of the tub, he dries you with your favorite fluffy towel. His carmine eyes gaze at you adoringly from your navel, blonde hair resting against your belly. One in a while, he’ll kiss your legs and feet, silently showing how much he truly cares for you.

Night rolls around and you both follow the same routine as before; you’re laying on the couch and he’s laying beside you on the floor. You’re not eating and that terrifies him. Sadly, this goes on for another month. And, Katsuki is growing desperate to have his omega back.

“I allowed my anger to do this to her- to me-to us. And, now, I don’t know if I can help her anymore,” he joined an anger management group (which, coincidentally helped his public image as well) after he realized the argument caused the rift in your relationship.

And, you’re proud of him on the inside, even if you can’t show it. At least he’s trying but, your omega just turns a blind eye to his efforts. You commend Katsuki for not giving up though.

‘It must be hard trying to change and improve for someone and they don’t even acknowledge your existence,’ you do feel bad for him. It seems that your love does outweigh his words.

But, you’re dying. He knows it. You know it. It’s known. He just won’t accept it.

“Omega,” you’re unconscious. He came home from the weekly session to find you unresponsive (well, more unresponsive than what you’ve been). “Omega, fuck-please-I God I, please wake up.”


So, you’re at the hospital now. The antiseptic burns your sensitive nose as you’re propped up on the hospital bed, sheets crinkling under your body. The doctors told Bakugou that you didn’t really have long to live but, he just can’t allow you to go without trying his best to save you.

“Omega, please, look at me,” you look at him but, it’s like you’re not seeing him. Your eyes don’t have the shine they used to. “Omega, please.”

You can’t answer him. What if you said the wrong thing? You were clinging to life by a single strand of fiber, death clinging to your scent. You knew you couldn’t handle it if Katsuki’s words hurt you once more.

“Please, talk to me, yell at me. Hit me. Do anything,” you can’t. Your voice is stuck in your mind. “Get mad. Throw something. Spit on me! Push me away. Shit, anything. Please just please please pleaseeee, fucking, please. PLEASE I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO BE WITHOUT YOU. Please stop looking like you want to die.”

“But, I do,” you hope he can understand.

“NO! NO NO! I FUCKING NEED YOU. I LOVE YOU,” he chokes on his words as he gathers your face in his hands. “I’m such a piece of shit. It takes you dying for me to realize how much I love you. But, I do. I love you so much it hurts. I can’t lose you.”

“Wipe your tears,” you brush your thumbs across his cheek to gather his tears. “I’m right here.”

“How can you love me still? Your will to live is fucking weak and it’s my fault! And, I’m sitting here asking you to hold on for me. You don’t even have to speak to me. Just stay here. I promise I’ll stay here with you. You can’t leave me.”

“Bakugou-“

“For fuck's sake, It’s Katsuki to you! I did this to you. I’m so sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for pushing you away when I felt I didn’t deserve your love. I’m sorry for making you feel the pain I felt all these years. I’m sorry for being a shitty alpha,” he cries in your lap as you pat his back. Your omega stores, crooning to help her alpha. You’re not dead; the future may look bleak but, you know it will finally bring you the love you longed for.

————————————————————————-

Tag List💕

@orokayagi @sakurashortstack @sinclairsamess

[jiminrings]

umm maybe this is me projecting bc i am messaging you during my break but for a drabble request, yoongi in a retail setting???? 😐😐😐😐 oc could either be a co-worker or a regular customer who asks too many questions 😔😌

retail-type beat

drabble week: day three

drabble week masterlist

pairing: customer!yoongi x retail worker!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second. anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

the last time you checked, work doesn’t start until nine

you kNEW it doesn’t start until 9 in the morning, so clearly that’s why you’re just wearing slides instead of your sneakers

the company uniform is either black or purple (it has to be from what the store is selling though so you can get to choose) with of course!!!! a lanyard!!!!

and you know this, because you’re still wearing your slides from home because it isn’t opening time yet

“goddamn it, i forgot to bring my slippers,” jin moans the moment he walks to see you, looking down on your feet that only reminds him he’d be stuck in his cool yet painfully uncomfy sneakers

he’s probably the only co-worker that you’re truly close with, not feeling the urge to sell him just to get a free day

“i told you to get the sneakers that nurses use!!”

hands-down one of the best purchases you’ve ever made

retail’s hard and it’s not exactly the best-paying job!!! thankfully the franchise owner is a bit more generous so that’s why you get slightly-higher hourly pay

“i would if they looked a little more seasoned,” jin snorts and stubbornly crosses his arms, “i might sacrifice my pride and buy some compression socks.”

OOOOOH THOSE ARE GOOD TOO

makes you feel like ur walking on air

but lol no seokjin isn’t ready to buy those just yet

he’ll settle on some blisters and putting salonpas patches because they look cooler that way, thank u very much <3

jin yawns, talking about finding a steam iron somewhere to replace a blowdryer so he could break in his shoes

“you wipe the glass this time.”

oh right he absolutely hates wiping down the glass — even before opening!!! even when there aren’t any grubby kids that would soil it instantly with their equally as grubby hands

you don’t mind it honestly

you might honestly like it

you prefer wiping the glass a hundred times over than steaming clothes

there is nOT a single thought in your head when you spray on the solution to the glass, rag and squeegee tucked between your fingers when-

maybe you should’ve hOLY FUCKING SHIT

it’s not opening!!!! it is nOT nine o’clock in the morning!!!!

you know that the shop you’re working in is pretty fucking famous and it’s located on one of the most populated streets ever BUT THERE’S ALREADY SOMEONE

although the bucket hat seems familiar from a distance and-

oh it’s just yoongi

yoongi?

yoongi’s already here????

:O

yoongi, the guy in question, is an always customer!!

no, not a regular customer — an always customer

he comes every week and maybe even twice within that period

he’s a nice talkative customer who likes asking questions and even occasionally guides the other customers on what to buy and where to find it

he’s yoongi!!! of course that’s expected of him

he’s been going here long since you ever started working here, and jin keeps iNSISTING that he’s been here more frequently since you started like a year ago

but doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?

“woah, yoongi’s already here? — doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?”

?!!?!!

“i was just thinking the exact same thing.”

jin bangs the glass with his fist and you automatically wince and frown

you dO like cleaning the glass panes!! you didn’t say you liked cleaning them a second time :(

“YOONGI!”

“YES??”

you push jin’s fist away to wipe at the smudge his hand left

“IT’S NOT OPENING YET!”

“I KNOW!!”

wow they’re uh

they’re really loud

sometimes you forget how seokjin could be since it’s been awhile since you heard him yell

lol no one’s been shoplifting recently so you haven’t been hearing him

a mind-blowing idea is for jin to come outside and talk to him in a normal talking voice, so your ears would stop ringing

“HEY! WHAT IF YOU JUST ENTER EARLY IN?”

“REALLY? IS THAT EVEN ALLOWED??”

"YOONGI, EVERYONE ON THE FLOOR KNOWS YOUR NAME. NAMJOON EVEN GAVE YOU A CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFT, AND WE DON'T GIVE CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFTS TO ANY OTHER CUSTOMER!!"

namjoon, who technically should be called mr. kim because no one really thinks to call the franchise owner with their government first name, is actually pretty cool

but he's too busy these days and haven't been visiting because he's too busy tending to his newly-opened coffee shop

as if the money he earns from opening his franchise in a day alone isn’t enough :0

"IF YOU SAY SO?"

you’re the one who hikes up the roll-up door in the slightest, enough for only yoongi to enter and not encourage anyone else to nOT enter when it’s still not opening time!!!!

he only has to crouch a little but he still has to dust his thousand-dollar pants as if he crawled through mud

his cream-colored slacks with a large black hoodie that has a giant bear embroidered on the middle of it and mules

... you don't hate his outfits

pretty cute, actually

it's yoongi!!

you'd never catch him lacking!!!

you don't even have to envision him rocking the shit out a paper bag

one time, he came in the store wearing the WRINKLIEST brown linen jumpsuit that no iron could possibly fix and he still pulled it off

toon-teen-ten!

oh god that’s the sound of the intercom

and the sound of the intercom equates to jungkook

... as in jeon jungkook who’s the floor manager and his constant top one goal for every month is to endearingly annoy seokjin

he’s young and mischievous!! but if you were to ask him, only you and jungkook are the people in this floor he’d actually get drinks with outside the shop

“seokjin come to the lingerie department right now, please.”

you see the thing is :D

“now this is just funny

there’s walkie-talkies for everyone here!! jungkook likes intercoms, and seokjin like yelling!!

“WHY ME AGAIN?? I’VE ALREADY FOLDED-“

“there’s a literal rat and i need yOU to catch it!! you know that i hate rodents!!”

him and jungkook are forever gonna be on this eldest-youngest brother dynamic and while jungkook pouts and shared the extras that he gets, jin is the one who kills the bugs :D

10/10 totally fair

fine then!! he’ll catch that goddamn rat

that leaves you and yoongi. alone.

“why did you come so early this time?”

you ask out of courtesy, genuinely baffled too because you know that yoongi’s a creature of habit

yoongi’s eyes pop out, head fervently shaking no

“i’m typically not the type to do that, no.”

???

is he-

are you-

are you both talking about the same thing

yoongi’s face flushes in embarrassment, his mind just then registering what you were actually saying

“o-oh! it’s because last night, i dreamt of the sweater i saw here last week!!"

oh right

typical :D

"need me to find it for you or do you already know the aisle?"

you align the folded shirts by the corners as you pass, looking at yoongi briefly while he trails behind yoh

“not unless you pulled it out already."

he's hoping that dear god you haven't

the black sweater with the moon aND buildings on it and when you turn on the flash, the windows of said building reflect it right back???

he SHUDDERS just by thinking about it

it’s gonna go with everything!!! an instant boost of serotonin every time he sees it

"for you, yoongi?" you shake your head, a small smile on your face that he only sees every once in a while, "i'd comb through the entire stock room."

wait

that’s sweet :((

“i’ll hold you to that.”

you know what??? you're less cranky when it's only him, and a couple of hundred people less

your smiles aren't for customer-service and you don't have misplaced clothes hanging from your shoulders and your walkie-talkie isn't talking in latin

or when no one’s asking you to reach something from the top shelf

or when you’re on the way to the intercom because a kid got separated from their mother

or when someone’s approaching for a refund for a shirt who has a stain that’s 100% no doubt customer error

his feet immediately move on its own because he’s memorized the outline of this too many times

there it is!!!

the sweater he’s dreamt about is already on his hands, only a handful few left

the piece is considerably more expensive than majority of the items here, so that’s why they’re all spaced-out instead of being clustered altogether

yoongi rarely goes to the dressing room, regardless if it's a full-house or not!!

he could just look at an item and immediately tell that it’s made for him ta know

he's beyond sure that this sweater fits him perfectly, but he may want to be here a little longer

yoongi may have say inside one of the fitting rooms and spent a little time in it just to sit on the chair inside, not fitting the sweater at all

he's gotten his item SO quick and he wished he could've just walked slower or pretended to not know where it was!!!

he wants to spend a little more time here

you don't hate yoongi!!! but sometimes he could just be... yoongi

he's quite talkative and strikes it whenever, making you unguarded

he could be overbearing but like an overbearing kind of nice

yoongi’s nice!! he’s the type to ask a lot of questions sure, but he’s also the type that would point the other customers what to buy and where to find it

he’s the type to find an obvious faulty stitch on a shirt, but he’d just quietly exchange it instead of asking for the manager

he’s the type you wouldn’t want to stand behind in line because it would take a long time for him to finish, but he’s also the same one who buys giftcards with generous amounts for family and friends

yoongi’s kind of cool and that’s cemented on your mind

"what do you got for me?"

he materializes out of nowhere, spooked because you thought he already ringed up and was out of the store already

it just happens to be ten minutes before opening and you’re doing last-minute arrangements on a new spread

well, yoongi most certainly is still here and his attention’s piqued

“we have... a new collection."

you clear your theory, awkwardly gesturing because you’re more than aware that yoongi hasn’t seen this either

“yeah, i know that. but like, what's going on??" he gestures to the displays and racks, squinting his eyes, "what's the theme? what's the material?"

:O

uhm you haven't read the brief about this

you aren't even sURE if there is one!!

doesn't everyone make up something on the spot in retail

or atleast that’s what seokjin tells you

“the theme," you clear your throat, scratching your temple before gesturing towards the full rack, "is everything."

“everything?

yoongi’s eyebrow is raised, not expecting that answer at all

you look back to the new feature, and nOW that you think about it,, there's no cohesion at all

“y-yes. the shop was going for the theme of uhm, everything... all at once — yeah, that's it. everything all at once."

it’s a nice way to put it when not one bit of the new collection goes together

“hmmmm. i like it,” yoongi nods solemnly and tilts his head, “and the material?"

"the material?"

you repeat, eyesight not the best so you can’t really tell anything off the bat or uh aNYTHING really

"t-the material is shirt."

they're all shirts!!! that’s it

yoongi grimaces in disgust, the first time you’ve seen of it

“what?? you can't say that.”

he outsretches his hand to the nearest article, holding it up by the hanger

"this, right here, is satin. see how it shines like silk, but doesn't feel like silk?"

uhm yes

you have a gist of what he’s saying but yes

yoongi picks up a pink button shirt this time, flipping it inside out

"this, is silk charmeuse. look at the inside, is it smooth?"

okay where is he going with this

he urges you to put your hand on the fabric and uhhh you didn't sign up for this???

it looks smooth, sure!! end of discussion

"yea-..."

“it's not. it's rough. it is smooth, but it's dull. silk charmeuse is still silk, but the backing it has is different from the lustrous part."

okay yoongi

you’re starting to feel uncomfortable and it has to do something with the tone he’s using on you

“can't believe you didn't know that!! how about this," he plucks out a shirt with a tiny print at the middle of it, "cotton or polyester and rayon?"

"i don't-"

there’s an itch in your neck that you want to scratch, a tell-tale sign that you just wANT to remove yourself from this situation

“come on!! it's a dead giveaway!!"

:((

why is he being like this?

toon-teen-ten!

“y/n, panty section please. jin almost got bit by a mouse and he needs comforting. two minutes until opening, people!!"

jungkook speaks at the right moment, and jin’s little incident is enough of a reason for you to bolt

yoongi's still looking at you but you can't afford to embarrass yourself further

“bye. happy shopping."

huh?

yoongi’s face falls when you leave as cold as that!! typically when you were going to show him out (when it’s regular shop hours), there’d be a smile :((

there's not even a customer service smile :(((

yoongi goes to the only cashier that's open so far and it happens to be far away from you and a teary seokjin

seokjin's fine he didn't even get bit!! that much he could say

but are you okay? uhhh you kinda went cold on him by the end and he thought he started on a good note

yoongi doesn't visit for another week and you don't find yourself counting the days until you meet him again

you did not have a devil wears prada moment where anne hathaway has an epiphany for fashion knowledge

you just felt belittled at a job that isn’t exactly what you wanted anyways

needed, yes. but wanted? not exactly

you know that basic knowledge about clothes is required in a retail job like this and you have it!! you do!!!!

you’d know more if only there were actual available resources for employees to know!!! nobody besides yoongi asks anyways

you’d know if you have time to yourself and aren’t working two jobs trying to make ends meet and tHEN you could pull up a book or something!!!

you’d know if your life is as lax as yoongi’s and could have the budget to buy new things for yourself every single week

“jin, i need to ask you something.”

he hums as called, looking at you briefly until you get on with it

“do you know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse?"

he shrugs casually while you're sitting inside one of the closed-off fitting rooms to catch a break, sharing a burger because the store’s packed-packed

why did you ask him? it’s too easy

“one's made by worms, and the other's a pokémon."

that,.,., could not possibly be righti* it brings you a laugh and you honestly don’t even try to correct him

it’s 11:15 and you kNOW it’s time to resume your shift, straightening your shirt because atleast one (1) person would hound you when they see a familiar red lanyard

oh you’re hounded alright

“hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second.”

yoongi????

oh

you haven’t seen him for a week and you don’t know what to feel in all honesty

"anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

wow

you're quite speechless as he holds up the item

really?

this thing all over again???

why are you even surprised

the only thing that yoongi gets your customer service smile, fishing your hand from inside the sweater to show him

“70% wool."

that's it???

NO GOOD MORNING????

you're mad at him, aren't you?

he knew it :((

he knew something was wrong but he just didn’t know what

he’s gonna fix this!! he will

which is why the very next day, he takes the day off from his work and comes to the store at a time he knows you’d surely be there

you're on cashier duty and you like it actually :D

you have an option to sit and the way you’re just gonna scan pricetags (and occasionally enter the code if it doesn’t work) is really appealing

“good morning!"

you’re about to grab the items from the basket laid on the counter and your eyes could only see the very familiar hand

the same one you’ve seen go through racks and racks

yoongi??

he sets his items one by one, buying himself more time

the first one is the same exact sweater he came to wait for before opening

“you already bought this."

you tell him even before you could hold it back, looking back at him briefly before you scan the tag

“i know. i just wanted to see you."

oh

oh

yoongi threw a bunch of other items (individually) so it would be a longer talk, but you scan each item quickly that he’s grabbing things from the counter

hand sanitizer!!! hair ties!!! keychains!!!! yeah he needs them

“i'm sorry that i tend to spring shit on you most of the time. you don't need to know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse."

you only chuckle then, a meek smile on your face

"it's okay, yoongi.”

“it's not."

... it’s not?

yoongi fidgets, opening and closing his mouth like he’s nervous!!! he’s never had his credit card cancelled but he could only feel that this type of jitterness is more than the former

“can i make it up to you? no lanyards, no baskets, no customer service?? i don't wanna fuck things up with you."

“don't feel obligated-"

“i know i could be a condescending ass who expects people to automatically know fabric and whatnot, but i wanna make it up to you."

alright yoongi’s a really good apology-maker

you mIGHT be even flustered a little

“you're holding the line, yoongi.”

“i cleared my schedule."

“i haven’t!!!!!” - guy in the back

“dinner at my place at 8. i-i promise to make your hard-earned break after your shift worthwhile!!!"

hmmm

maybe that wouldn’t hurt

“okay. just because you're holding the line."

“fine by me."

:))

yoongi transfers all the items he bought, all but one, to his tote bag

he hands back the paper bag to you, scribbling his address on the back of the receipt before he does

he lingers a little while at the counter, the people behind him ALREADY switching lanes to the one seokjin’s just opened beside you

it's the sweater that he has too

yoongi scratches the back of his head, this time being the meek one

“what? m-matching sweaters for our first date. s'cute."

[thatkidwholikesthunderbirds]

TAG Mini Bang 2021

Hey fam, This is mine and the amazing @katblu42′s contribution to the @tagminibang. Katblu42 wrote the story, of which I love so much, and i made a couple of doodles to go with it.

We both worked really hard on it, hope you enjoy.

***

Deep Water

The summer is drawing to an end when an almost-twelve-year-old Virgil is lumped with looking after little bro Gordon for the day. When a simple walk in the woods becomes more than they bargained for, the pair must work together to overcome their fears.

Written by @katblu42

***

“Hey, Virgil. Whatcha doin’?” Gordon bounced down the stairs and watched his brother carefully pack his brand-new artist’s set of watercolour pencils, mini easel, and sketchbook into his backpack, using one of his hoodies for padding. “I’m gonna go out on the top track and try out my new pencils. It’s gonna be a really nice day for practicing landscapes. I want to try and capture the way the light filters through the trees and . . .” As Virgil excitedly rambled on about all the things he wanted to draw, Lucy emerged from the kitchen with a lunchbox packed with sandwiches and snacks and two water bottles for Virgil to add to his bag. She ignored the eye-rolling from the younger boy, who obviously didn’t share the enthusiasm for artistic inspiration. Placing a hand on Virgil’s shoulder as she handed him the last of the supplies, Lucy smiled. “Sounds like the two of you are going to see all kinds of wonders today,” she said. Virgil opened his mouth to question, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak. “You’re going to take your brother with you.” “But . . .” was all Virgil managed to squeak out, while Gordon sported a look of surprised incredulity. “It will do you both the world of good to spend some time together, just the two of you.”

Lucy knew these two didn’t always get along, mostly due to Gordon’s talent for finding exactly the right buttons to push to try Virgil’s patience. In fact, Gordon did that with everyone, but it somehow affected Virgil the most potently. Lucy, Jeff, and the other boys had little tolerance for Gordon’s annoying antics, but the fact that Virgil usually had an abundance of patience was exactly why Gordon got under his skin so much. With Virgil, Gordon would keep on pushing, keep needling, insistently nagging until that patience wore thin and caused Virgil to react in frustration. As a result, Lucy had noticed Virgil tending to avoid spending too much time with Gordon. But today she needed to pair them up together. Grandma would be by any minute to pick up Scott, as she was helping him log extra flying hours towards his pilot license while Jeff was away for work. John had already left for the library where they had been running a special summer program in the AV centre focussing on early space exploration because today was the last day he’d be able to see it. “Aw, Mom!” Virgil whined. “If he comes, I won’t get any drawing done.” “Yeah, Mom,” Gordon joined in, wrinkling his nose, “can’t I stay with you?” “Nope!” Lucy ruffled Gordon’s unruly blond locks. “I have errands to run today.” Gordon groaned. He hated being dragged all over town when his mom was running errands, mostly because the entire day was usually spent listening to her tell him he couldn’t run off too far or do anything fun – getting up to mischief, she called it. Lucy knew her day would be difficult enough with a toddler in tow without adding a hyperactive six-and-a-half-year-old to the mix. For a moment, she felt for Virgil. In a way, he had a point. He’d have to keep Gordon occupied, which would take his focus away from his artistic endeavours, but she had faith that the two of them would find a way to make it work. She stood between the two boys and, with a hand on a shoulder of each, pulled them into a hug. “You two go out and have fun.” She placed a kiss on first Virgil’s and then Gordon’s forehead. “Be good, look after each other, and don’t get into any trouble!” She ushered them through the door and watched them head out, turning back to wave goodbye to her from the front gate before continuing westward towards the top track. She would always worry about her boys out there on their own, but they all knew the rules and had repeatedly been warned of the various dangers contained within their little patch of wilderness. Virgil was not inclined to be reckless or break the rules, but the lure of an interesting view could distract him at times. Looking after a younger brother would help keep his attention more focused. It was one of Lucy’s secret weapons. Pairing a big brother with a little one always seemed to make the big brother more inclined to obey the rules and watch for dangers.

The two boys made quick progress across the open paddock towards the trees, Virgil striding out confidently, Gordon occasionally having to run for a few steps to catch up. Once they reached the track that wound its way through the trees, the pace began to slow. Virgil’s gaze wandered as he walked, noticing in great detail the colours of the foliage and tree bark, the stark contrasts formed by shafts of sunlight filtering between the trees and highlighting this branch or those leaves. He would hear the cry of a bird and look up, searching the treetops to see if he could catch sight of the culprit. Despite the distractions, however, Virgil didn’t stop walking. He had a destination in mind, and he was keen to get there so he could start drawing. Gordon found distractions of his own along the track. He’d hear skittering noises in the dirt and leaf litter beside the track and stop to see if he could spot the creature that had scuttled away. He found spiderwebs woven between the trees and bushes, and noted with interest whether or not the spider was home and if they’d caught anything. He, too, would search the trees and sky for birds that called out their various songs. Unlike Virgil, Gordon stopped often and would have to run to catch up to his bigger brother, usually after Virgil called out to him to hurry up. After falling behind for the fourth time, Gordon decided to run ahead along the track a bit. That way Virgil would have to catch up to him! He stopped short when he came to the fork in the track. An idea struck him, and he jogged back to his brother. “Hey, Virgil?” He had a glint in his eye that the older boy knew well enough to be worried about. “We should go down to the lake!” “No.” “Oh, come on! Why not?” His voice was verging on whiny and his expression close to a pout. “We’re not supposed to go to the lake on our own, it’s –” “We’re not on our own, we have each other!” Gordon didn’t want to give Virgil a chance to argue or talk about possible dangers. “We’re not gonna do anything dangerous or anything. It’s nice by the lake. Besides, you said your pencils were watercolours. Shouldn’t you draw something with water?” “That’s not . . . Uugghh!” Virgil sighed, rolled his eyes, and rubbed a hand through his hair. He knew steering this particular brother away from water was going to be a hard sell, and if he was honest with himself, his little brother was right about the lake being a good place to draw. It would give him an opportunity to practice drawing reflections, which was something he’d been wanting to experiment with. And the view across the lake was pretty spectacular. But swimming in the lake could be dangerous. If they went to the lake, Virgil knew his entire day would be spent watching Gordon in the water. Gordon studied the expression on his brother’s face for some sign of what he was thinking. He had that look of intense concentration he used when he was figuring out how to fix something. Virgil slowed to a stop and looked down at Gordon. “If we go to the lake –” As Virgil spoke, Gordon’s face broke out in a wide gap-toothed grin as he sensed he had won. “I said if! If we go to the lake, you have to promise me you won’t go for a swim. I came here to draw, not play lifeguard.” “Aww! Virge, it’s summer! It’s a great day for a swim.” His smile was gone, and he now had to trot alongside his brother as Virgil began walking again, setting a brisk pace. He was going to have to fight hard to get his way. “Pleeeeease!” No reaction. “What if I promise not to go in any deeper than up to here?” He indicated his waist. Virgil’s eyebrows drew down into somewhat of a scowl, but he slowed his walking pace again. “You have to stay dry above the knees,” he said. “Yes! Okay, I can do that.” Gordon’s big, infectious grin was back, and he literally bounced with happiness and excitement at his victory. “I promise I won’t go in past my knees, and I’ll be good so you can just do your drawings.” Virgil tried to keep his expression serious, but his little brother’s glee was so irresistible he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Pretty soon he was grinning too, and they headed down the left fork in the track towards the lake. As they descended the narrow trail, weaving between trees and larger rocks, the hard-packed dirt underfoot gradually giving way to sandy soil, Gordon’s excitement was barely containable. He ran ahead down the track, calling to Virgil to hurry, ran back to his brother urging him to walk quicker, tugging at his hand, gave up, and ran ahead again before he could even see Virgil roll his eyes. The whole process was then repeated. Twice. Soon enough the trees lining the track thinned out, allowing glimpses of dark blue water. The track curved, and suddenly they emerged from the trees onto an expanse of silty sand with the lake spread out before them, rippling and glistening in the sunlight. The dark greens of the trees on the far side of the lake separated dark blue water from pale blue sky on the horizon. Gordon ran straight to the water’s edge, while Virgil took a moment to take in the entire scene. The lake itself didn’t cover a particularly large area, but it was very deep in places. Virgil estimated that it was more than half a mile from side to side, north to south, and possibly as far as three hundred metres to the trees on the other side from where Gordon now stood. The hills to the north funnelled water down into the lake via a network of creeks and streams. The surface of the lake looked relatively calm, but it hid unpredictable undercurrents as the water worked its way to the small stream that trickled away from the natural dam at the lake’s southern tip. There were a few tiny islands dotted throughout the lake, most of them closer to the far side, some large enough to have trees growing on them, others no more than large rocks with their tops protruding from the water. A short walk along the water’s edge northward took Virgil past a small wooden pier with a little dinghy tied to it, gently rocking and bumping with the lazy motion of the water. Beyond that, the flat sand gave way to a series of rocky, sloped banks. Picking his way up over some of the lower rocks, Virgil climbed up onto a large, relatively flat boulder that afforded him a good view and room to set out all his materials. He could see the beach (as Gordon called it) and his brother discarding his shoes and socks so he could explore the shallows and the little boat attached to the pier, with the water stretching away before him. Once he had carefully unpacked his easel and sketchbook and placed his pencils beside him within easy reach, Virgil began to sketch out some rough outlines. It wasn’t long before Gordon popped his head up over the edge of Virgil’s rock platform.

“Is that all you’ve done so far?” he asked with curious disbelief. “You should use more colours.” “Gordon.” Virgil’s tone was a warning. “Okay, okay,” Gordon said, raising his hands, palms outwards. “I just wondered if it’s lunchtime yet. I’m hungry.” Virgil resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he looked at his younger brother, searching for any signs of mischief and finding none. He realised Gordon was probably right, it was time for lunch. Virgil had been too caught up in what he was doing to notice how long it had been since they’d eaten breakfast. “All right, let’s see what Mom packed for us to eat.” He dug the lunchbox and water bottles out of his backpack while Gordon climbed up onto the rock and sat cross-legged beside him. Neither boy was surprised to find their mom had provided each of them with their favourite sandwich toppings, and they ate hungrily. Gordon would have polished off all the snacks too, but Virgil prudently suggested they should save those for later. They washed the sandwiches down with a hearty helping of water, making sure to save some of that too. When their little picnic was done, Gordon started to scamper back down over the rocks. “You can go back to drawing now,” he delivered a parting shot with that cheeky grin, “I’m gonna go see if I can find any fish.” “Stay out of the water,” Virgil warned. “You just ate.” “Ugh! I’m not stupid, Virgil! And besides, I’m only going in up to my knees, remember!” “I remember. I’ve just gotta make sure you do!” Virgil watched as Gordon started to clamber down the rocks. “Stay where I can see you!” he called after him. “And be careful! The rocks can get slippery.” “I’ll be fine!” Gordon yelled back, and added under his breath, “Spoilsport.” “I heard that!” Virgil didn’t see Gordon poke his tongue out before he ran off along the sand to go and get his feet wet again. He stood in the shallow water, running his hands over the slimy reeds looking for little fish. He spent some time digging his toes into the sand to see what little creatures came darting out into the water as it clouded around his feet. Virgil’s focus was split between the landscape that was rapidly developing on the paper and keeping tabs on Gordon. Every little, excited exclamation had Virgil looking along the beach, wondering what his brother had found. But his attention was inevitably pulled back to his watercolour sketch. Coming out of the water for a while, Gordon picked his way along the sand, gathering a pocketful of stones before finding a spot to stand and skip them across the surface of the lake. He was pretty proud of the one he managed to get to skip eight times before it sank. The clicky slap of the first skipped stone had Virgil’s head turning to watch, making sure his brother was still keeping out of trouble. He wondered who had taught Gordon to skip stones and fondly remembered Scott showing him how it was done. Gordon was actually pretty good at it, and he kept at it for quite a while. After that, Gordon wandered closer to the trees looking for beetles and interesting insects. He even took one or two of them over to show Virgil. He did the same with some of the smooth pebbles he’d found, especially the ones that had pretty colours or unusual patterns. Virgil liked those ones, he could tell. And every time he returned to Virgil up on his rock, while he munched on a snack or took a drink of water, he took a peek at what his brother was drawing. There was one main drawing of the view across the lake that was more and more detailed every time Gordon saw it, but there were some other smaller sketches too. Gordon wasn’t sure if they were like little practice drawings for things that Virgil wanted to add to the main one or if they were something else. It looked like some of those extra sketches included him, some were of the treasures he’d brought to show his brother, and some he couldn’t quite decipher yet. The afternoon sun beat down on them, too high in the sky for any shadows long enough to provide decent shade. Virgil barely noticed, but Gordon felt the heat. He had climbed back down from Virgil’s perch and was now sitting on the end of the little boat dock dangling his feet in the water. He kicked his feet, splashing and watching new ripples form. The water was pleasantly cool against his legs, but his head and shoulders yearned for that same refreshing feeling. He looked out across the lake, longing to jump in and immerse himself in liquid heaven. He was regretting his promise. “Gordon,” Virgil called down to him, “stop splashing around so much. I don’t want you falling in.” In response, Gordon just sighed. A gull squawked nearby, and he watched it wing its way to a large rock protruding from the water, joining other gulls and ibises sunning themselves. It was the closest island to where he sat, and it didn’t look too far to swim to. It was so hot. It would just be a quick swim. “Hey, Virgil,” Gordon called out, twisting his body around to look up at his brother, “how far do you think it is to that big rock out there?” Virgil took a moment to stand up and stretch muscles that he hadn’t really moved in nearly two hours. He looked where Gordon pointed and couldn’t help doing a rough calculation in his head to estimate the distance, but he knew where this question was leading. “Too far,” he answered. “You’re not going to swim to it. No deeper than your knees, remember?” “But, Virge . . .” “No, Gordon! It’s dangerous. We don’t swim out that far when Mom and Dad bring us down here, I’m not letting you go out there alone.” “But I’m a good swimmer, and the water’s really flat and calm, and it’s so hot . . .” “I said no!” Virgil was almost shouting now. Why wasn’t Gordon listening to him? Couldn’t he see how bad an idea this was? “It’s gotta be at least eighty metres out to that rock, and you can’t see the currents at work under the surface or the reeds or the cold spots or how deep it is. It’s not like swimming in the pool in town.” “Eighty metres is easy! I already have my two-hundred-meter freestyle achievement certificate. I’ll be out there and back in no time.” As he spoke, Gordon started removing his T-shirt. “Gordon, don’t!” Virgil’s heart was hammering at his rib cage like it was trying to break free, and he started making his way down the rocks towards the boat dock, knowing he wasn’t going to be quick enough. “Bet I’ll do it in the fastest time ever. Time me, Virgil.” And with a flash of a wicked grin, he turned and dived into the water. Virgil ran across the sand and onto the wooden dock, heart still pounding fit to burst as Gordon swam away. All he could do was stand there and watch. As scared as he was, he couldn’t help being a little bit in awe of his little brother. Even though he was little, he was a good swimmer. From his very first swimming lesson two years ago, he had been very much at home in the water. He learned fast and seemed to have the knack of skimming the surface of the water when he swam – unlike Virgil, who always felt like he was fighting the water, trying to stop it from pulling him down. He didn’t mind admitting that Gordon was a better swimmer than he was, but the little fish had no experience with open water – or getting out of trouble on his own. It wasn’t long before Gordon was halfway to the rock island, and everything seemed to be going fine. Virgil even managed to start to relax a bit. It seemed like he was going to make it out there just fine. His pace had slowed a little, but that was to be expected. Then suddenly something wasn’t right. Gordon had slowed right down, almost to a complete stop, his legs no longer breaking the surface with his kicks. He rolled onto his back and made a couple of awkward backstrokes, then he went under. Just for a millisecond. But it was enough to have Virgil scrambling to get into the dinghy. Gordon tried to shout, but the effort seemed to cause his head to bob under again. Virgil rowed as fast as he could, his head twisted to look over his shoulder, not wanting to take his eyes off his little brother, praying each time he went under that he’d see blond hair break the surface again. Swear words repeated over and over like a mantra with every stroke of the oars. Strong, long strokes propelled the little wooden boat through the water. He fought back panic. He would get there in time. He had to get there in time. He had to save his brother. Gordon seemed to be losing the battle to stay afloat, arms flailing, panicking, bobbing and spluttering. He knew Virgil was trying to get to him, and he was desperate to keep his head above water until he got there, but kicking was difficult and painful. His left leg was not obeying. He’d never experienced a cramp like this before. Virgil finally reached the spot where Gordon had just gone under again. Leaning over the side of the boat, mindful of leaning too far and capsizing, he grabbed a flailing arm with one hand and reached the other into the water to grab a handful of blond hair. He ignored the shock of the cold mere inches below the surface and hauled his brother up far enough for him to gasp for air. He adjusted his grip and dragged Gordon into the boat, where he lay coughing and spluttering, shivering and absolutely terrified. Virgil sat, boat rocking beneath them, breathing hard and equally terrified, watching his brother, grateful for the coughing because at least he knew he was still breathing. “You okay?” Virgil panted out once the coughing had died down a little. “Cramp!” Gordon gasped out in reply, indicating his left leg. “Calf muscle? Here?” Virgil was kneeling with Gordon’s left foot resting on his thigh, fingers gently kneading into his calf. Gordon responded with a nod and a little groan of pain. Virgil spent a few minutes massaging the cramped muscle. He wasn’t sure if Gordon’s tears were from the pain in his leg or fear or relief, but he suddenly felt like he’d do anything to stop them. All he could offer were words of reassurance. Words that comforted both of them. “It’s okay, Gords. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” Virgil’s fingers worked methodically, gently, gradually relaxing the muscle, relieving Gordon’s agony, and calming both of them down in the process. Gordon was soon wriggling his leg free of Virgil’s grasp to sit up on the floor of the little rowboat. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs, still shivering. “Hold on, Gordon.” Virgil shifted himself back onto the seat and took up the oars. “Let’s get you back to shore and then we can warm you up.” Rowing back to the wooden dock seemed to take so much longer than it had to row out into the lake. Virgil wasn’t sure if this was because there were currents working against him or if he was just a great deal more tired now. Or maybe it was the lack of terrifying urgency driving his actions on the return trip. Either way, he was grateful to make it safely to the dock and get the boat secured. Gordon was adamant he could get out of the boat on his own, but Virgil’s assistance was accepted readily when he found himself unsteady on his feet. Virgil retrieved the T-shirt Gordon had so hastily tossed aside earlier and draped it over his little brother’s back. It didn’t take much convincing for Gordon to remain sitting on the dock in the same knees-huddled-to-chest position he’d adopted in the boat while Virgil raced up to his rock platform to retrieve all his gear. He also made a quick dash across the sand to find Gordon’s discarded shoes before returning. He didn’t like how quiet and still the normally boisterous boy was. The paleness of his skin and the fact he was still shivering – or perhaps trembling – worried him even more. The now damp T-shirt had been pulled on over his head but offered little in the way of warmth. “Hey, Gordon. Arms up,” Virgil instructed, holding his own hoodie ready to slip over the blond head. Gordon did as he was told without comment or complaint, seeming to Virgil a little like some sort of robotic puppet. The hoodie was way too big, but it was soft and thick and most importantly dry. With head and arms now inserted into their correct holes, Virgil knelt in front of Gordon and pulled the hoodie down over his entire tucked-up body. Not even his feet protruded from beneath the hem. He then wrapped his arms around the whole bundle of little brother and rubbed vigorously to generate some heat. “Virgil?” Glossy brown eyes peeked out from beneath the sweater’s hood. The voice was quiet and had a quality to it that felt somehow small and uncertain. “I’m sorry.” The look in his brother’s eyes, more than the words, stung Virgil somewhere deep inside. “What?” Virgil answered. “What for?” “I didn’t listen. You told me not to and I . . .” “That doesn’t matter now.” Virgil’s arms tightened ever so slightly around him, and Gordon rested his head against his big brother’s shoulder. “All I care about right now is making sure you’re okay.” For a moment, the two boys stayed locked in the embrace, Gordon letting the feeling of safety envelop him, Virgil feeling the rise and fall of Gordon’s chest with every breath. He was relieved to find his brother relaxing into an even, steady pattern of deep breaths. There was no sign of any wheezing, and the coughs and splutters seemed long gone. “Come on. Let’s get you home,” Virgil said softly, giving Gordon’s back one final rub before releasing the hug. He slipped his backpack straps over his shoulders, held his hands out for Gordon to take so he could help him onto his feet, then lifted him up into a reverse piggyback hold. Gordon’s arms looped around his neck, and his legs wrapped around his waist without hesitation or protest, and Virgil set off for home at a slow but steady pace. The gentle but constant incline of the path back to the top track gave Virgil quite a workout with the additional weight he carried, but he took it in his stride. Gordon remained so still and quiet, hooded head resting against his left shoulder, Virgil thought he might have fallen asleep. He tried not to jostle his bundle of brother too much as he picked his way up the hill. When he reached the relative flat ground where the lake path rejoined the top track, Virgil took a moment to catch his breath, and Gordon stirred. “Hey, Virgil?” he said quietly. “When we get home . . . we don’t have to tell anyone what happened, do we?” “Gordon, we have to tell Mom. You nearly drowned!” Gordon caught his brother’s gaze and for the first time saw there was fear in those deep brown eyes. It made something in his insides feel fluttery. “But I’m okay,” he pleaded. “You saved me.” “I pulled you out of the water, but . . .” Virgil wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence and sighed. “If you got any water in your lungs, that would be bad. I’m not sure exactly how it works, but sometimes it can make a person have trouble breathing hours after they’ve been rescued from drowning.” “Oh.” The initial response was almost whispered, then Gordon’s features and tone brightened. “But –” “Did you swallow any water?” Virgil cut him off. “Because the water in the lake could make you sick if you did.” Gordon’s brow creased. “No. I don’t think so. Maybe?” Virgil sighed once more, then began walking again. “I don’t want to scare you, Gords, but what happened out there was a big deal.” “I know,” Gordon whimpered, and held on to Virgil a little tighter. “But I’m not scared now. I’m safe. I was afraid. In the water, when I thought . . . when I couldn’t . . . It was scary, but now I’m not scared because you’re here and you saved me.” Virgil remained silent. “Would it be less scary for you if you stay with me until you know I’m not going to get sick or stop breathing?” Gordon whispered. The rhythm of Virgil’s footfalls faltered for a step or two. “I promise I won’t leave your sight until you’re sure I’m okay. Then we don’t have to tell Mom unless I get sick. Okay?” For a moment, Virgil couldn’t say anything. The lump in his throat was too much of an obstacle. He blinked a few times to clear his swimming vision, huffed out a ragged sigh, and hitched his brother a little higher on his hips. “Okay, Little Fish. You got a deal. I won’t tell Mom, and you and I stick together like glue for tonight.” Not long after their deal was struck Virgil’s steady paces brought them out of the trees and into the paddock, with home in sight. It seemed they had beaten Lucy home, as her car wasn’t parked in its usual spot, but John’s bike was neatly leaned on its stand next to the others, and Virgil suspected Scott was already home too.

He was relieved to finally climb the stairs and deposit Gordon gently on his feet on the front porch. Slipping off his backpack and rolling his shoulders to ease tired muscles, Virgil followed his younger brother through the front door and into the kitchen. He might have known Gordon would gravitate towards food. At least this was a good sign – if Gordon was hungry, then he probably wasn’t feeling any ill effects from swallowing lake water. “Oh, look. It finally happened,” Scott said with a smirk and an elbow to John’s ribs. “One of Virgil’s hoodies grew legs and walked away.” “Ha-ha,” Gordon replied as he grabbed the jug of juice from the fridge. “Seriously, Gordon,” John spoke up from his seat at the kitchen table, where he and Scott had been finishing their afternoon snacks, “what’s with the hoodie? It’s gotta be ninety-six degrees outside.” “He just wanted to prove me wrong,” Virgil chimed in, walking straight to the cupboard and grabbing a couple of glasses. “I told him he would disappear completely inside one of my hoodies.” He noted the suspicious looks but ignored them as he poured juice for himself and Gordon. “How was the space thing at the library?” As John began eagerly explaining in great detail the highlights of the interactive exhibition, Virgil met Scott’s expression of curiosity with his best nothing-to-see-here shrug. He knew the innocent look he tried to project wouldn’t be enough to prevent Scott from seeing straight through the change of subject. Scott’s sapphire-blue eyes had the ability to cut like diamonds, and right at that moment Virgil felt the full weight of their scrutiny. He tried to give a reassuring smile and turn his attention to John’s increasingly fast-paced account of the space exhibit. “Actually, that sounds pretty cool,” Gordon said with an air of surprise and a warm smile at the conclusion of John’s animated description. He drained the dregs of his glass of juice and turned to Virgil. “I’m gonna go upstairs and change clothes.” “I’ll be up in a minute,” Virgil replied. Gordon left the room at a trot and bounded up the stairs. Scott and John were both back to studying Virgil intently. “What?” “Why’s Gordon so attached to you all of a sudden?” Scott asked. “He’s practically asking you for permission to leave the room.” Virgil’s gaze flicked between the blue and the turquoise, and he resisted the urge to squirm. “I don’t know. I guess we just had kind of a good day.” It was the only thing Virgil could think of to say. “You two spent the whole day together and you’re not sick of the sight of each other?” It was John’s turn to question the lack of frustrated bickering that would normally have surfaced between them. Virgil just shrugged, finished his own glass of juice, and picked up his backpack. “I’m gonna go put this stuff away.” He left the room, deliberately not hurrying but desperate to escape from the interrogation he felt was coming. As soon as he reached the top of the stairs, Gordon’s bedroom door opened. He was wearing his clownfish pyjamas, and Virgil couldn’t help but grin. “Virgil?” Gordon packed so much uncertainty into just his name Virgil was a little concerned at what might be coming. “Do you think maybe . . . I mean could we, maybe . . . Do you wanna build a blanket fort with me?” “Actually, I think that’s a pretty great idea.” When Lucy arrived home, wrangling a grizzly Alan who had missed his afternoon nap, and exhausted from a rather frustrating day full of unnecessary delays at every stop, she found Scott and John in the kitchen getting dinner started. Neither had seen the other two boys in a while, so she settled Alan in the living room with his favourite cartoon and headed upstairs to investigate. She found them in Gordon’s and Alan’s room. At least, she found evidence that this was where they had been for some time. Half of the room was obscured by a complex construction created out of pillows, blankets, and assorted bed linen supported by various pieces of furniture and some rather ingeniously rigged clothesline string. “Well, look at you two in here together, thick as thieves!” Lucy said as her head emerged from between two blankets that served as the entrance. “Hi, Mom! We’re building a blanket fort!” Gordon explained excitedly. Virgil rolled his eyes. “She can see that, doofus.” “And it is quite an impressive feat of engineering.” She winked and smiled. “What did you boys get up to on your walk today? Lots of exciting adventures, no doubt.” A look passed between the two. “Nothing,” Gordon blurted out, just as Virgil spoke. “Not much.” Virgil added a shrug and a somewhat apologetic expression. “Just . . . boy stuff.” “Yeah, Mom. Boy stuff,” Gordon repeated emphatically. “We can’t tell you because you’re a girl.” Lucy’s head tilted slightly, an eyebrow raised, and the corners of her mouth and eyes began a slow upward quirk into a smile. She wondered what they were up to, but she was happy the two of them were getting along well. “Hmm. Does this boy stuff include any drawings I’m allowed to see?” If they wouldn’t tell her where they’d been, perhaps she could discern something from Virgil’s sketches. “Can I show you later? Tomorrow maybe?” Virgil squirmed a little under the inquisitive gaze of those soft, honey-coloured eyes. Usually he loved sharing his artworks with Mom. She always praised the bits she thought he’d done well and knew exactly how to suggest little improvements without making it seem like he’d made mistakes. Sometimes it felt like she saw more in his drawings than what he’d put in them. “Okay,” she said, changing tack. “Are you two coming out of there to join the rest of us for dinner?” Another look between the brothers. The plot thickening before her eyes. “Can we come back in here after dinner?” Gordon asked. “Could we, maybe, both sleep in here for tonight?” Virgil followed up quickly. Lucy studied the faces of her two brown-eyed boys. These two were not regular partners in shenanigans. There was something going on here that she was not quite sure she understood just yet, but there didn’t seem to be any harm in what they were asking. “I don’t see why not,” she answered, and was rewarded with two beaming smiles. “Go wash up and you can set the table while I help your brothers finish up in the kitchen.” Dinner for the most part was about as chaotic as usual. Alan was still irritable and played with more of his food than he ate, making a mess of himself and the table in front of him in the process. Scott and John both gave lengthy answers to their mom’s enquiries about how they had spent the day. There were all the usual arguments over who would get the last helpings of this or that as plates and dishes were rapidly emptied, their contents hungrily devoured. Virgil and Gordon managed to talk about the more innocent parts of their day, clinging to descriptions of what plants were flowering, the types of birds they saw, the spiders and beetles and butterflies, rather than any specific mention of the lake. As the scrape of knives and forks on plates finally died down, Lucy began clearing serving dishes off the table. “How about tomorrow we all have a day at the pool?” Standing behind her water-baby as she spoke, she gave his hair a ruffle. John and Scott were both quick to answer with excited affirmatives, Alan enthusiastically exclaimed “Swim!”, but she didn’t see the panicked look that flashed across Gordon’s face as he looked across the table at Virgil. “That sounds great, Mom,” was Virgil’s reply as he kept his eyes firmly on Gordon, trying to relay a sense of calm reassurance that he didn’t really feel. If anyone noticed Gordon’s lack of enthusiasm at the suggestion, no one made mention of it. Perhaps his reaction was lost in the flurry of activity as the table was cleared and Alan was escorted upstairs for his bath. Virgil did notice an odd expression cross Scott’s face as he watched Gordon begin loading dirty cutlery into the dishwasher, but he said nothing before leaving the kitchen. John and Scott had helped cook dinner, so Virgil and Gordon were left to load the dishwasher and tidy the kitchen. “Gordon?” Virgil caught his little brother’s attention with a gentle flick of a tea towel, and a sullen expression was his reply. “Don’t you want to go to the pool tomorrow?” Gordon shrugged. Virgil kept his voice low, not wanting anyone to hear the conversation. “You always get excited about going to the pool. You’ve been begging Mom to take us every day for the entire summer. People will ask questions if you suddenly don’t want to go.” The look in Gordon’s eyes was a complicated mixture of fear, sadness, and uncertainty that had Virgil once again wanting to do anything he could to take away the pain. He was about to say something more when he heard John’s voice carry through from the living room and thought better of it. The discussion wasn’t over, but it would have to wait. The rest of their kitchen duty was completed in awkward silence. Chores done, they headed upstairs, back to their blanket fort. They had barely begun to settle into the pile of pillows and cushions when a small hand, followed by a headful of slightly damp blond hair, poked through from beneath a blanket wall. Bright blue eyes sparkled as a giggle escaped through a cheeky grin. “Peek-a-boo!” Alan exclaimed and wriggled his way into the enclosure. “Alan!?” Lucy parted the fort’s entrance with her arms so the blankets draped like a stage curtain. As her eyes came to rest on her littlest, a wave of relief was reflected in her fond smile.  “Say good night to your brothers and I’ll read you a story.” Liberal good-night cuddles were dished out to both big brothers before Lucy ushered Alan out so she could bundle him into bed. “You two – shower or bath, teeth brushing – go!” she instructed. By the time Virgil and Gordon had washed and brushed and were attired for bed (again in Gordon’s case), Alan was asleep, the bedroom was illuminated only by Alan’s star projecting night light, and their mom was holding her finger up to her lips. “Shh. Try not to wake your little brother,” she whispered. She gave each of them a hug and a kiss on the forehead. “Don’t stay up all night!” Virgil and Gordon were soon alone and comfortably secure in their plush fortress. Their flashlights had been propped between pillows and furniture so they provided a soft glow amid the cosy gloom. “Talk to me, Fish,” Virgil said softly. “You’ve been so quiet since dinner. Are you feeling okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine.” Gordon’s slumped posture added to Virgil’s impression that his brother looked pretty miserable. “It’s just . . .” A huge sigh escaped his tiny frame. “You’re worried about tomorrow?” Virgil finished for him. “Do you think I could tell Mom I have to do some reading for school or something?” Virgil’s eyes widened and his heart dropped into his stomach. His little brother might not be physically sick or injured, but he was not okay. “You know that’s not gonna work, Gordon. You’ve been pestering her all summer to take you to the pool. If you suddenly don’t want to go, she’s going to be super suspicious. And nobody will believe that you would ditch the pool in favour of schoolwork. Especially in summer!” “I know.” Another sigh. A long silence. “It’s just, when Mom said we’d all go to the pool tomorrow I . . . Normally I’d be really excited, but this time I kind of got scared.” “What are you scared of?” Gordon thought Virgil’s question was a pretty stupid one considering what had happened at the lake, and his scowling glare communicated as much. “I mean, what exactly scares you about going to the pool? Are you afraid you might get into trouble like you did in the lake?” Gordon’s expression turned more quizzical as he considered what Virgil was trying to say. “Because the pool is going to be very different from the lake. The water is clear. You can always see the bottom. The temperature is controlled and kept fairly warm. There’s a lifeguard on duty all the time keeping everyone safe, and we’ll all be there with you. You won’t be on your own, far from shore.” “I guess.” “Gordon, you love the water. You always have, even when you were tiny. You’re always happiest when you’re in the water – even if it’s just the bath or splashing in puddles.” “Not anymore.” “You have to get back on the horse,” Virgil said absently, almost to himself. “What? What horse? What does that have to do with the pool?” “It’s a figure of speech. Something Grandpa says. If you fall off the horse, you’ve gotta get right back on. You can’t let one bad experience make you scared forever, and the sooner you get back up on the horse after falling, the easier it is to ride again.” Gordon looked uncertain. “So, you’re saying that I have to go to the pool tomorrow and get back in the water or else I might be scared of swimming forever?” “I’m saying you have to go to the pool tomorrow because swimming makes you happy. You’re good at it, and you can’t let today stop you from doing something that makes you light up like Fourth of July fireworks and grin like the Cheshire Cat.” There was another long silence. Gordon scooted a little closer to his big brother and rested his head against Virgil’s shoulder. “Will you stay with me tomorrow? At the pool?” Virgil wriggled his arm under his brother and tugged him closer. “For as long as you need me to,” he affirmed. “We’ll start off in the shallow end. Mess around for a while, just getting wet, splashing about. Pretty soon you’ll be swimming like a fish and I won’t be able to keep up. But I promise I’ll stay close and watch out for you, okay?” “Okay.” Despite how tired he sounded, there was a brightness to Gordon’s voice that caused a wave of relief to sweep over Virgil. The day’s exploits had exhausted the two boys. Their little nest was cosy and warm, and the close contact between them helped relax them both as they quickly drifted off to sleep. But Virgil’s usually sound sleep was disturbed by unpleasant dreams. Twice he woke suddenly, heart pounding and breathing hard, certain that something terrible had happened and with an unshakable need to check on Gordon, only to find him safely asleep beside him. He lay awake after each nightmare, watching the even rise and fall of his brother’s chest, noticing every little twitch and murmur made as he slept. He had a feeling it would be a while before he could completely shake these nightmares, but it was comforting to think that Gordon had been spared the same kind of disruption through the night.

*** Morning dawned bright and warm, and despite the duvet cover preventing much sunlight penetrating the sanctuary of the fort, Gordon was awake with the dawn chorus. He tried to let his brother sleep, happy to listen to the soft snores and try not to giggle, but he quickly became impatient. Virgil woke to gentle but insistent poking to the ribs and the repeated whispering of his name. When he peeled his eyes open, he was greeted with brown eyes mere inches in front of his own and a beaming smile. “We’re going to the pool today, Virgil,” Gordon whispered with a hint of excitement. “You have to get up.” “Okay, okay,” Virgil managed to somewhat grunt as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. Then he registered the expression on his little brother’s face, the gleam in the eyes and the fact that the smile still hadn’t faltered, and a smile of his own spread from the depths of his heart and across his face. The mixture of nerves and eagerness thrumming through Gordon all morning was enough to give the rest of the family the impression he was full of barely contained excitement fitting for the day of a visit to the pool. He repeatedly asked when they would be leaving and was repeatedly told they would head out after lunch. He offered to pack everyone’s towels and Alan’s floaties into a bag ready for later, and he fidgeted and bounced his way through to lunchtime. After lunch, as promised, Lucy piled all the boys into the family car and drove them to the public pool. She paid their admission, and they all tumbled through the turnstile. As usual, Scott, who had never grown out of wanting to go everywhere at top speed, and Gordon raced away to find them a spot on the grass where bags and towels could be unceremoniously dumped before they hit the water. By the time Virgil and John joined them, T-shirts had already been discarded and comments about the fate of the last person into the water were being bandied about. When Lucy was finally able to set down her load of Alan and the bagful of necessities required for their day out, her four oldest boys were already racing towards the Olympic-sized pool. Scott first, John not far behind, and Gordon practically dragging Virgil by the hand.

Lucy kept an eye on her boys happily splashing about with each other in the shallow end of the pool while she got herself and Alan stripped down to their bathing suits and slid Alan’s floaties on over his head and arms. They had started a game of Chicken Fight by the time she slid herself into the water and lifted Alan down into her arms. John, sitting on Scott’s shoulders and Gordon atop Virgil’s, were locked in grappling combat. Scott and John had the advantage of both height and reach, and it was not long before Gordon toppled into the water. A rematch produced the same result in short order, and Gordon exacted revenge by distracting Scott with an underwater pantsing, causing him to break his hold on John, who overbalanced and slid from Scott’s shoulders into the pool. Lucy and Alan laughed along with the others as Scott protested foul play. Handstand competitions and a game of Freeze Tag followed. Lucy took Alan to the toddler pool where he could splash about more freely, instructing the older boys to behave and try not to bother other pool users too much while she was gone. Virgil was pleased to see that, just as he’d predicted, Gordon was happily swimming rings around them all as they played. He’d stuck close to Virgil at first, but after the Chicken Fights, he was swimming farther and faster in his efforts to escape being tagged and spending longer underwater with every passing minute. It seemed he had slipped right back into his home environment without any lasting dramas. As the afternoon shadows grew long, one by one Lucy’s boys returned to their spot on the grass. She and Alan had grown tired of the water first, and Alan had even had a short sleep amongst the pile of towels as they waited for the others to tire themselves out. Scott was first of the older boys to tire of swimming and return to towel off and dress in dry clothes, with John quick to follow. Lucy was a little surprised at how long Virgil lasted in the water until she spotted him sitting on the edge of the pool with just his feet and lower legs in the water watching Gordon as he shot back and forth across the free-play area, dodging strangers. She gave a shrill two-finger whistle. Virgil, recognising the signal, turned his head to look back at her, and she beckoned with her hand to indicate it was time to go. It seemed to take a while to convince Gordon to get out of the pool, but Lucy was not surprised. The car ride home was a fairly quiet one, the boys having spent a great deal of energy over the course of the afternoon. They brightened at the suggestion of ordering pizza for dinner when they got home, and there was a brief buzz of conversation when she mentioned their father would be home by the weekend. He had only been away for two weeks, but the older boys had never really grown out of getting excited by his return. This latest trip wasn’t as far away as Mars or even the moon, but the prospect of having Dad home again still triggered that same feeling of welcoming someone who had been long absent. He may not visit space for work any longer, and his absences could be measured in days instead of months or years, but it was always great to have him home again. “He already has big plans for this year’s Last Day of Summer,” Lucy mentioned with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “It’s only ten days away now!” While Scott and John speculated on what their dad might have in store for the annual family day at the lake on the last weekend before they went back to school, Virgil felt a small hand slip inside his and squeeze. He looked to his left at Gordon staring silently out the car window and gave a slight hand squeeze of his own in reply. While today had helped, it was obvious his little brother was still harbouring some fear of returning to the lake. There was no chance for Virgil to talk one-on-one with Gordon when they got home from the pool. As was fairly normal in the Tracy household, there always seemed to be someone else around or something that needed doing, and before he knew it, Gordon was already tucked in bed and reading a bedtime story with Mom. Virgil took a little longer than normal in the shower, needing the time alone with his thoughts. If Gordon acted anything less than excited about going to the lake for Last Day of Summer, it wouldn’t be long before their little secret would come to light. He had to find a way to get Gordon’s confidence back, but he was starting to wonder if he could manage on his own. With something like this, he would normally talk things out with Scott. It felt wrong to be hiding something from him and even more wrong to be hiding things from Mom. He was beginning to wonder whether he should just let the cat out of the bag and tell the truth, but he really didn’t want to let his little brother down either. Unable to face revealing how close he’d come to letting his brother drown, Virgil ended up avoiding any chance of conversation for the evening and shut himself away in his room until it was time for bed. John was in and out of the shared bedroom as he began preparing to turn in for the night, but it was not unusual for the two of them to quietly do their own thing without really exchanging words. When Lucy popped her head inside the door to check on her two quietest boys and say good night, Virgil tried his best to act like everything was normal. Her gaze fell heavily on him for a moment, and he had to fight the urge to tell her everything about the day at the lake and ask her advice. “Don’t stay up too late, boys,” she playfully warned them. “Lights out by 9:30 please, Virgil, and John, no more stargazing after lights out!” “Okay, Mom,” they both answered automatically and in chorus. “Good night.” It took a while for Virgil to fall asleep that night, mind whirling with the thought of his little brother being afraid of something that had always been a source of such joy. There had to be a way to fix it – every problem had a solution, you just had to find it, that’s what Dad would say. As tired as he was, his mind kept trying to focus on finding that solution before drifting away into a sleepy fog. Gordon didn’t know exactly what time it was, but he knew it was very late. The house was quiet. The room wasn’t dark – Alan’s night-light saw to that – but he couldn’t hear any voices, any indication of anyone moving around downstairs or in the bathrooms and bedrooms. Everyone must be asleep. He had startled awake, sitting bolt upright, breathless, heart pounding, eyes prickling with oncoming tears and really wishing he wasn’t so alone. He’d been dreaming about the lake, and now he didn’t want to go back to sleep. Slipping silently from his bed, he tiptoed across the floor, careful not to disturb Alan, and crept out into the hall. He hesitated for a moment. Normally he would head for his parents’ room, but Mom would ask what the dream was about, and he didn’t want to tell her about swimming in the lake. He didn’t want to get in trouble – or get Virgil into trouble. Gordon changed direction and headed for Virgil’s and John’s room. Being very careful to open the door without a sound and close it just as silently behind him, Gordon stood in the pitch-dark bedroom for a moment and let his eyes adjust. He couldn’t understand why his bigger brothers liked it so dark, he found it a bit creepy, but he couldn’t turn on the light and risk waking John. It wasn’t long before he could make out the shape of Virgil’s bed amongst the gloom, and he stealthily padded across the carpet to stand beside his sleeping brother. Now that he was here, he wasn’t really sure how to wake him or whether he should. He stood twisting the fingers of both hands around each other, close to tears again. “Virgil?” he whispered, barely above a breath. No response. “Virge?” This time a little louder, a little more desperate, a little more whiney and accompanied by a sniff. He tried tapping Virgil’s shoulder a few times, but his brother didn’t budge from where he lay curled on his side, facing the wall. In the end, not knowing what else to do, Gordon climbed across the bottom of the bed and squeezed his way past Virgil’s knees, wriggled himself under the covers and Virgil’s arm, and curled himself into the space between his brother and the wall. It was around three a.m. when Virgil woke to find he wasn’t alone in the bed. He didn’t know how or when Gordon had come to be there, but he could hear him softly whimpering and feel him shaking with the occasional sob. “Gordon,” he whispered softly, “are you okay?” He tugged his brother a little tighter to him, feeling him struggle to get the sobbing under control and even out his breathing. “Had a bad dream,” came the ever-so-quiet response. Virgil eased his grip and shuffled over on the bed, allowing Gordon to roll over and face him, but he kept his hand resting against his brother’s back. Neither of them spoke for a moment, and the quiet darkness seemed both comforting and ominous at the same time. Gordon heaved a deep breath in and let it out in a sigh before breaking the silence. He kept his voice low, but once he started, the words tumbled out in a torrent. “I can’t go back to the lake for Last Day of Summer, Virgil. I don’t want to go back in the water and everyone will know that’s not normal and want to know why and I don’t want them to know what I did and –” “Shh,” Virgil soothed, rubbing Gordon’s back as he spoke. “We’ll work something out together. I promise.” “You mean so we don’t have to go?” “No, I mean so you won’t be afraid anymore. We have to go. It’s tradition. And I think we both have to go back to the lake and confront our fears.” “You’re scared too? Wait, what are you scared of?” It was Virgil’s turn to let out a sigh. “Gordon, as annoying as you sometimes are, you are my little brother, and if anything happened to you – anything really bad, I mean – I’d be . . .” Another sigh. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. And I guess I’m scared of what might have happened. I keep having bad dreams where I couldn’t save you.” Gordon was suddenly wrapped around him like an octopus, his skinny little arms squeezing tight around Virgil like he was never going to let go and legs twining their way between bedding and body to latch on too. Despite feeling a little bit trapped within the many-limbed embrace, Virgil felt oddly comforted by it. “You don’t have to hold so tight, little octopus. I’m not going anywhere,” Virgil whispered into blond hair. “I’m not an octopus,” came the muffled reply, buried somewhere in Virgil’s neck, “I’m a squid.” “Okay then, Squid. How about we try and get some sleep and work this out tomorrow?” Gordon’s hold on his brother relaxed enough for them both to get a little more comfortable in the bed, but it was clear he wasn’t letting go. Virgil managed to get one arm disentangled enough to trace his hand back and forth across Gordon’s back, helping to lull him to sleep. Slumber quickly claimed the older brother soon after.

*** Morning crept up on them, dawning overcast and gloomy, despite being summer warm. As a result, Gordon slept later than he normally would and was woken by John’s quiet movements as he rolled out of the bed on the other side of the room and shuffled towards the bathroom. If John noticed the interloper in Virgil’s bed, he didn’t say anything, so Gordon took the opportunity to unceremoniously climb over his brother and hightail it back to his own room. Virgil woke with a start after yet another nightmare. Sitting up and trying to reacquaint himself with reality, he realised Gordon was no longer with him, and his heart rate ratcheted up a few more notches in brief panic. Catching sight of the clock and taking a few slow, deep breaths, Virgil managed to convince himself that everything was fine, Gordon had obviously just woken up earlier and was more than likely perfectly okay. But he needed to check. He tumbled out of bed and, after a brief detour to the bathroom, stumbled his way down the corridor in search of Gordon. Finding the tiny two’s bedroom deserted, he headed downstairs and found his target in the living room. Virgil stood in the doorway watching Gordon playing with Alan for a few minutes. Seeing his goofball brother being his normal, animated self and hearing the shrieks and giggles his antics prompted from Alan were enough to reassure him that yes, Gordon was just fine. Sometime after Virgil had found himself some breakfast and begun to consider himself properly awake, John found him sitting at the piano, absently staring out the window. John didn’t recall hearing Virgil play any practice exercises, and Virgil’s brow was furrowed in deep concentration, so John concluded that he was there more for the familiarity than the urge to play music. He did this sometimes – sat there just thinking, wheels turning, gears shifting, working something out in his head – and John always found it interesting to watch the thought process play out through Virgil’s expressions. But the expression wasn’t changing. “Virgil?” John prompted with some concern. “You okay?” With a jolt, Virgil tore his eyes away from the view he wasn’t really seeing out the window and focussed them on John. “Yeah.” Virgil sighed. “I just have something I need to do, something that needs fixing, and I don’t know how to do it.” “Look it up,” John answered with a shrug. “That’s what I’d do. There’s probably a book about it somewhere or a repair manual or instructional video. If I want to know how something works or how to do something, I start with research.” With that, John walked away, leaving Virgil to ponder how to research fixing a fear of swimming in a lake. And then it hit him. Research was the answer, he just had to look up the right thing – not how to fix the fear, but all the things there were to be afraid of. The more information you know about the thing you’re afraid of, the less scary it becomes. So, all he had to do was look up everything that could cause someone to get into trouble swimming in a lake – and maybe rivers, streams, and oceans too – and learn everything about them. If he knew how to spot the dangers or how to prevent them and how to get out of trouble, then maybe Gordon wouldn’t be afraid anymore. Virgil set off at a run to go and find Gordon. At first, Gordon wasn’t sure about this idea of Virgil’s. Sitting in front of a holoscreen looking up information sounded a lot like homework. But Virgil was insistent that they at least give it a try. After all, it couldn’t hurt to know more about different waterways. “Okay, so where do we start?” Gordon asked as they settled themselves at the big desk in the corner of the living room. “Well, what scares you most when you think about going swimming in the lake?” “Getting another cramp.” Gordon’s reply was quiet, and suddenly Virgil hated himself for making his little brother revisit that moment when everything had gone wrong. He put his hand on Gordon’s shoulder and offered a reassuring squeeze. “Then let’s start there. We can find out what causes cramps when you swim and learn how to prevent them or how to manage them.” Virgil found a great deal of information on muscle cramps related to swimmers, which he quickly became quite absorbed in. He had to remind himself to stick to the sites with simple wording and steer clear of the ones that crossed too far into medical jargon territory. The boys learned the importance of warming up before swimming, being careful not to overexert the muscles, and staying hydrated. They also found that cold water could increase the chance of cramping. Virgil physically shivered at the memory of plunging his arm into deceptively cold water to grab at one of the only parts of his little brother he could still see. They researched swimming in cold water, what caused cold spots in lakes and rivers and whether you could spot them, and ways you could avoid them or deal with them. They learned about different types of currents – ones you could see, and ones you wouldn’t know about until you felt them. Submerged objects, reeds and seaweed, rocks and tree roots . . . “What are you guys doing?” Scott startled them so badly Virgil jumped and Gordon squeaked. “Researching water safety.” Virgil decided honesty was the best way to go . . . to a point. “It’s for Rescue Scouts.” “But we don’t go back to Rescue Scouts until a week after school goes back.” Scott eyed both brothers suspiciously. “We know, but there’s no harm in getting in early, and Gordon really wants his Water Safety badge.” Virgil had to resist the urge to squirm under the scrutiny of his big brother’s gaze as Scott remained silent for what seemed like a whole minute. “Well, it’s time for lunch,” Scott finally said before turning his back on them and heading for the kitchen. Gordon grinned up at Virgil, who huffed out a long exhale in relief. He didn’t think Scott completely believed the Rescue Scout story, but it seemed as though they would be able to continue their research unquestioned. In fact, no one questioned the time these two spent together in snatches of an hour or two here and there over a couple of days, continuing to search out information on the best ways to stay safe in just about any body of water. Gordon had even made a scrapbook of notes and pictures so he could keep track of all the things they’d learned. Excuses aside, when Rescue Scouts resumed after the summer break, Gordon would already be well on his way to earning his Water Safety badge in earnest. As promised, Jeff was back home by the time the boys awoke on Saturday morning, and he began dropping hints about his plans for the best Last Day of Summer yet. It was to be bigger and better than ever before because, for the first time since they began making the end-of-summer vacation a celebration, it coincided with Virgil’s birthday. The first hints encouraged the boys to check their tents and sleeping bags. It wouldn’t just be a day out with a picnic lunch this year, it would be an overnight campout. There was a promise of campfire tales and s’mores and a special surprise that required the night sky as a backdrop. There were hints about guests that prompted a whole day of guessing who might be joining them at the lake. Grandma and Grandpa were the first confirmed additions to the guest list, along with “Uncle” Lee and a mysterious extra guest from England and his daughter, who was apparently around Virgil’s and John’s age. Amidst all the building excitement about the big event at the end of the week, signs of Gordon’s nervousness about returning to the lake were easily missed by the rest of the family. Only Virgil saw the signs – the slight frown at Scott’s mention that they’d all need to remember to bring their swimmers and towels, the look of horror at John wondering if he’d see more stars if he rowed out into the lake after dark. Virgil decided he’d have to take Gordon back to the lake before the weekend. They needed to return to the scene of the crime. Gordon, having come to much the same conclusion in his own way, approached Virgil after breakfast on the Wednesday. The day was clear and bright, much like it had been on the morning of that fateful day little more than a week before. It seemed like a good day to go back and face the monster that the lake had become. “Virgil,” Gordon said quietly, despite there being no one else in the living room at the time, “can we go back to the lake today? Can you take me?” “Today seems like a good day to me,” Virgil answered with a gentle smile. “We’ll have to tell Dad we’re going out for most of the day.” Now that Jeff was back from his trip and working from the home office, Lucy was spending more time at work. The boys were expected to look after each other and only interrupt their father if it was important, but Jeff would check up on them all throughout the day. “Do we have to say where we’re going?” Gordon twined his fingertips around each other, raising his eyes to meet Virgil’s from a head trying to look down at the floor. “We’ll tell him we’re going back to the place we visited last week to finish the drawing,” Virgil suggested. “It’s not exactly a lie. We are going back to the same place.” The knock on Jeff’s office door was tentative but loud enough that he heard it over the voice of the colleague on the other end of the video call. He muted his audio to tell his visitor to wait a moment before unmuting and bringing the phone conversation to a conclusion. “Come in,” he finally called towards the closed door. He was a little surprised by the request for this particular pair to spend a day out together on their own, but he remembered Lucy mentioning something about these two having been out on the top track the week before. He gave them permission to go provided they tell Scott and John where they were going and promise to be back by five. “Take something to eat and plenty of water, Virgil,” he reminded the older boy, “and look after your brother.” “I will, Dad.” Virgil gave a solemn nod, and the two boys slipped back out of the office, closing the door behind them. Bag packed with sandwiches and water bottles, art supplies for the sake of appearances, and towels, the boys were soon striding out across the paddock towards the top track. This time there were no lingering looks at the scenery as they walked – the birds, spiders, and bugs were largely ignored. Unlike the last time they had set out together, Virgil had no desire to hurry, and he let his younger brother set the pace. He noted with a small amount of pride the purposeful strides, the determination in the set of squared shoulders, and the fire in amber eyes as Gordon focused his energy on reaching their destination so he could do what needed to be done. Gordon’s determined march stuttered to a somewhat abrupt halt when they rounded the last curve and stepped onto the silty sand of the lake’s beach. With his eyes fixed on the water, shoulders drooping, it seemed Gordon’s fire had died. Without a word, Virgil placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, the simple gesture having the desired effect – lending the younger boy enough resolve to steel himself once again, lengthen his spine, and straighten his shoulders. Virgil steered them over to a patch of sand where he could spread out a towel for them to sit on. Shoes were shed in preparation for the inevitable trip to the water’s edge, but the boys remained seated. “What do you see out there?” Virgil asked. “It’s the same. Calm. Flat. But it’s different from last time too.” Virgil waited for a moment before trying again, wanting Gordon to see past the feeling of fear. “Remember what we learned about studying the ripples?” he prompted. “Is it really flat and calm?” There was silence as Gordon’s gaze focused intently on the expanse of blue stretching before them. The embers of the fire that had previously lit his eyes seemed to ignite anew as he studied the surface, looking for telltale signs. “There are reeds just under the surface over there,” he said, pointing a little to their left, “and the ripples over here are different to that bit farther out where it looks really smooth.” Virgil could see Gordon’s confidence growing as he gestured to various parts of the lake, telling his big brother what the differences in the rippled and smooth areas were likely to mean in terms of what was going on beneath the surface. Pretty soon they were on their feet and striding into the shallows to test the waters. Gordon entered the water at a slow walk, which Virgil thought was through caution or trepidation at first, but then Gordon gently trailed fingertips through the reeds and beckoned his big brother over. “Virgil, come look,” he called, looking up at him with a grin. “There are fish that feed in the reeds.” The next half hour was spent following Gordon through the shallows exploring the aquatic life found therein. As the younger boy got more caught up in watching the fish, finding different types of reeds, discovering eels, and excitedly pondering all manner of life in the depths of the lake, they wandered deeper into the water. Virgil followed and listened, answering questions as best he could when asked, smiling fondly all the while. The Squid was in his element. “Hey Gordon,” Virgil said as he playfully splashed a well-aimed hand scoop of water into the side of his little brother’s head. “You realise you’re getting your shirt wet, right?” Gordon looked down at the water that was now up to the middle of his chest and back up at his brother with a grin. “Oops.” They briefly returned to the little beach, shed their shirts, and laid them down in the sun to dry. “You know, when we come back this weekend, we’ll mostly be swimming out here where we just were.” Virgil nodded his head back towards the little patch of lake they’d just explored. “We could go a little deeper, actually lift our feet off the bottom and swim for a while. This is the only part of the lake any of us have ever really swum in before.” Gordon’s eyes sparkled with light reflecting off the water as he pondered Virgil’s words for a moment. Mom and Dad had always suggested the boys shouldn’t swim out past where they could touch the bottom and definitely never past the end of the wooden pier. Looking at the pier and the dinghy tied securely to its mooring drew his eye to the rock island beyond, tantalisingly close, yet so terrifyingly far. Virgil watched his squid brother scanning the water, casting his gaze over the safe and familiar. He saw the moment the line was crossed and thoughts turned to the challenge just that little farther afield. Once again, he placed a hand on Gordon’s shoulder, hoping to redirect his thoughts. “Why don’t we just go back in, swim around for a while, have some fun where we know it’s safe?” “Yeah, okay,” Gordon agreed, a little half-heartedly. Virgil took his brother by the hand, and by the time they’d taken two steps, they were running towards the water. He only let go once they were in deep enough that a tug of the hand lifted Gordon’s feet off the bottom and propelled him a short distance through the water. He received a splash to the face for his efforts, but his little brother was smiling and treading water. In no time at all, Gordon was literally swimming rings around his big brother, splashing at him and darting away, taunting him, daring him to swim after him. It was hunger that drove them out of the water and back onto the dry sand sometime later. PB&J sandwiches were retrieved from the backpack and devoured. The late summer sun warmed their shoulders as they sat in content silence, listening to the lapping of the water and the cries of the birds. Virgil would have been happy to remain there soaking it all in, but Gordon soon became restless, his gaze drifting back to where water birds were drying their outstretched wings. “Virgil, I wanna swim to the rock.” The fire was back in Gordon’s eyes. Virgil studied him for a moment, seeing that same determination that had driven the march to the lake. He wasn’t asking for permission, he was making a statement. It was what he’d come here to do – the demon he needed to conquer. Virgil wasn’t feeling anywhere near as courageous as his little brother looked at that moment. “Gordon . . .” “I need to do it, Virgil.” He turned his head, those glowing embers burning straight into his big brother’s wide brown eyes. “But I need you.” “I can’t . . .” “Use the boat. I’ll swim, you row. If I get into trouble, you’ll be right there.” Virgil had to look away. The intensity in those eyes, the body language, the strength of will in his little brother were too much. But it was the faith Gordon was placing in him that was twisting his gut. He caught sight of the rock island, out there beyond the boat docked at the pier. He was suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat thumping just a little too hard and a little too fast. Gordon needed this – needed him to do this with him. He couldn’t let the Squid down. “Okay,” he agreed with a sigh. He had expected a look of triumph, a smile, a victory dance . . . something. Anything but the simple nod and determined knitting of Gordon’s brow that he received in reply. The younger boy then grabbed his water bottle and took a long draught. “Staying hydrated helps stop you getting cramps, right?” Gordon asked. Virgil nodded. “And I should do some warmup stretches before I swim out there.” “Right again.” Virgil was gladdened by the amount of thought and preparation Gordon was putting into the task ahead of him this time. “And you’ll stay close in the boat?” There it was, the uncertainty just below that confident façade. “Right beside you all the way, little brother.” Virgil tried to school his expression into one of reassurance, but he wasn’t sure he managed it. They made their way across the sand and onto the wooden planks of the pier, then stood studying the expanse of water for a moment, watching the ripples and trying to read currents. Looking for dangers. At last Virgil could put it off no longer. Gordon was warmed up and ready to go, they had assessed the risks and had plans in mind for just about any eventuality. It was time to untie the boat and take up the oars. Sitting in the gently rocking dinghy, Virgil had to take a moment to close his eyes and concentrate on a few deep breaths to quell the hammering in his ribcage before looking back up at Gordon and giving a nod. He was as ready as he’d ever be. This time when Gordon dived in, he began his swim with a measured pace rather than a burst of speed that he wouldn’t be able to maintain. Virgil didn’t have to work too hard on the oar strokes to keep up with him. Not far out there was a brief moment of panic when Gordon suddenly stopped his forward momentum and started treading water. An odd expression furrowed his brow, then he ducked his head under the water. Dropping the oars and preparing to make a grab for his brother, Virgil was sure his heart stopped beating altogether for a second before the blond head re-emerged above the surface. Seeing the panic in his big brother’s eyes, Gordon grinned and held up the weed he’d just untangled from his leg. “It’s okay, Virge, no cramps, just waterweed.” And with that, he resumed his swim with a flurry of swift kicks and smooth strokes. By the time Virgil could regather the oars – and his wits – his little brother was ten meters ahead of him. It took only a few strong pulls on the oars to catch up again, but Virgil knew his pulse rate was not going to climb down out of the stratosphere until they were both on dry land. It felt like an eternity, but in reality, it was only a few minutes before Gordon was able to lay his hands on the slippery surface of the rock. Finding a decent hold, he clambered up far enough to sit on a crag, feet still in the water, triumphant grin lighting up his features, water droplets catching the sunlight, causing his hair and skin to glisten as he caught his breath. “I knew I could do it!” he panted as Virgil drew the dinghy close beside him. “I never doubted you, Squiddo,” Virgil agreed, practically beaming with pride at his brother’s achievement. “Now, are you gonna swim back? Or do you want a lift?” Gordon’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t really thought about the return trip. Virgil chuckled. “Um, I think maybe I’ll just come back with you in the boat.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, dragging it back from where it was dripping into his eyes. “No problem, Fish. You’ve proved enough for one day.” With a bit of manoeuvring, jostling, and boat rocking, Gordon was able to climb into the dinghy and settle himself into the seat at the prow. To him, the journey back to the dock seemed to take no time at all. Virgil’s strong, steady strokes with the oars propelled them quickly and smoothly through the water as though it took no effort at all. He jumped out of the boat and onto the pier before Virgil had even finished drawing the oars into the boat, then waited for Virgil to climb out and secure the mooring. “Virgil?” It was all the warning the older boy got as he turned to face his little brother, who closed the space between them at a run and launched himself into what became a squid hug, arms and legs tightly wrapped around Virgil’s torso. It took Virgil a couple of backward steps before he could steady himself under the sudden additional weight. “Thank you. You are the best big brother.” Virgil returned the embrace, allowing a chuckle to escape as he rested his head against damp hair. “You are a pretty amazing little brother, Squid.”

*** The Last Day of Summer celebration, and Virgil’s twelfth birthday turned out to be a fantastic, fun-filled event for all involved. Nothing could hold Gordon back from spending as much time as possible in the water, and so no one knew there had ever been a problem. The nightmares had run their course too. Summer vacation came to an end, and with the start of the school term, life returned to normal. A few weeks later a chance meeting at school pickup resulted in a few puzzle pieces slotting into place for Lucy. Gordon’s class teacher spotted Lucy waiting in the Kiss & Drop zone and made a passing comment about his wonderful piece of creative writing for the obligatory “What I Did Over Summer” assignment. When they got home, with the boys all occupied with snacks or homework and various afterschool activities, Lucy dug out Gordon’s writing workbook and found the story in question titled “My Summer Vacation,” with a large A+ written in red at the top of the page. My Summer Vacation I did lots of things in summer with my big brothers and we had lots of fun but there was one scary day. I went swimming in the lake when I wasn’t supposed to and I nearly drowned but my brother was there and he saved me. After that I was scared to go swimming, but he told me it would make him sad if I didn’t swim anymore because he says swimming makes me happy. We looked up all the ways you can get into trouble swimming in lakes and rivers and oceans. We found out all the ways you can look for dangers and get out of trouble in the water and how to be safe. Now I’m not scared to go swimming anymore. Well, that explained a great deal. Lucy smiled to herself and shook her head a little. She would have words with Virgil about the kind of secrets that needed to be shared with an adult, but she was struck once again by how amazing her boys could be and just how far they would go for one another.

***