#just read that a healthy person wouldn’t wish to be sick for people to care about them and if you wish to be sick maybe you already are

[ivynightshade]

fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s ‘i can’t be loved, swallowed or digested. must i make myself smaller?’

[text id: this thought was unceasing: somewhere must be home. / the spine-folding need to belong was woven into my skin. no amount of clawing could ever get it out. / it scared me that even at my very best, i wouldn’t be able to stop myself from being fond of the tearing. isn't mauling touch? the warmth of a hand close to you, right before is tears you apart, is something.]

[cobaltperun]

Lost (4) - When they come for me

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Warning for this chapter: I believe it is intense and violent, if you are sensitive to graphic depictions of violence, please don't read

Word count: 5.3k

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-Opposite of lazy, far from a punk, Ya'll ought to stop talking, start tryin' to catch up motherfucker-

You've always been a light sleeper, well, unless Tara was in your arms. She relaxed you, her warmth, her body close to yours, brought you peace, chased away any nightmare you might have. Unless she was sick and you were taking care of her she made it harder for anything else to wake you up. You still should have been more alert. Sam got attacked, yet you relaxed completely, believing the police officer outside of Tara’s room would do his job. You should have realized that it was clear the attacker could get into the hospital and slip out unnoticed.

Yet you didn't wake up until a robe brushed against you.

Not that it mattered. That was still plenty of time.

Your right hand shot up, grabbing the wrist and you immediately saw a knife. The black robes, the chilling, white mask, the knife. In the darkness of the room, the person in front of you looked more like a mini Grimm Reaper than a human. You weren't struggling, you did feel the Ghostface trying to push the knife into your chest, with both hands now, but you were still stronger. You were just still drowsy from sleeping and this just wasn't triggering your fight-or-flight response, you didn't even feel any adrenaline. You felt anger though, coursing through your veins, that need for revenge threatening to make you act rash.

You wouldn’t though. You were a trained fighter; you wouldn’t be consumed by emotions. You faked a yawn, wishing to irritate the Ghostface, you’d break it mentally first. Once it realized it couldn’t do anything to you, that’s when you’d beat it up.

You felt more than saw Tara shifting her weight, she woke up due to your sudden movement. Tara screamed, her healthy hand getting between your chest and the knife, though luckily she didn’t try to grab the knife, and you finally saw tiny dark red spots on the knife. The desire to mentally break the attacker vanished, leaving only the thoughts of beating the monster within an inch of its life and then letting it rot in prison.

You jerked your knee up, colliding it with Ghostface’s right shoulder. The pushing against the knife stopped and you forced your elbow into the attacker's guts. With the Ghostface gasping to regain its' breath the next part was a walk in the park. Without letting go of the wrist you slipped Tara off you as gently as you could, though not without giving her a comforting squeeze to the shoulder. "I'll be right back," you began sitting up as the Ghostface tried to get out of your vice grip. It tried to make you let go of its wrist, to pry your hand open, to push it away, to take the knife, but the way you were holding its right hand made sure it couldn’t let go of the knife either. The struggles were futile as you lifted your right arm, still holding onto Ghostface’s wrist and proceeded to punch it in the stomach once again with your left fist. Another punch to the side of the head and you felt the person underneath the mask going limp in your hold.

"Let's take this outside," you growled at Ghostface, fury burning in your eyes. This attacked Tara, this hurt her! This thing? That didn't even bother to clean the knife? As if her blood was something it wanted to admire. Maybe it was someone else's blood? It didn't matter. The possibility that it was Tara's was enough. The possibility that this was the knife that the monster used to hurt her was enough. You slammed the monster against the wall, disorienting it further, before pushing it out the doors. There was no need to do this anywhere near Tara.

That's when you saw it, a body to your right, the blood. So, it did kill someone... Your attention went back to the killer as it tried to get back up. With a scoff on your face, you approached the Ghostface to shut that idea down. A reckless, almost desperate slash missed your neck by several inches, you stepped to the side to avoid the next one, swept the arm holding the knife away and once again went for the head, slamming your fist into the mask and hearing a small crack.

The Ghostface tried to stab you again and yet again you grabbed the wrist. "Got you," it was the first time you heard the voice Tara heard as she was being attacked. It was, indeed, a chilling voice. A glint of another knife caught your attention, and you pulled back before it could reach you, switching from standing your ground and pummeling the monster to a proper fighting stance, bouncing lightly on your feet and putting up a guard.

It was just in time as well, as you narrowly ducked underneath another knife. Another Ghostface. Well, as long as they were focused on you, you were okay with this situation. You grappled the one that just attacked you, reaching down as you ducked and grabbed the attacker's shin, forcing it to the ground with a loud thud. You didn't have time to attack again, as the other Ghostface lunged at you aiming to end the fight with the two knives.

You lightly nudged one of the arms away and dodged to the side, leaving you enough opening to land a quick punch to the enemy's side. By the time you pulled away from the dual-wielding Ghostface the other, taller one got back up. The dual-wielding Ghostface didn't give you time to focus back on the other one and tried to stab you again. You pulled back just out of reach and grabbed one of the arms, twisting it and forcing the murderer to drop the knife. As the other Ghostface rushed you from your right you leaned forward wrapping your arm around the waist of the one in front of you and tossing it at its partner. The two stumbled back a bit but otherwise remained on their feet.

You raised an eyebrow when they seemed to look at each other. The smaller one motioned toward Tara's room, and your heart began beating faster. No way, not a chance.

They split up, the taller one heading for Tara's room while the one that began all of this attacked you. You had moments to react, you feinted with a punch to the head, and just as the Ghostface stopped you spun around, landing a spinning back kick to the side. The other Ghostface stopped right in front of Tara's room, as if taunting you.

And like a fool, you took the bait. Not that it mattered, you had no choice but to take the bait. It was either this or letting Ghostface get to Tara.

You went after it, sidestepping a stab and landing a knee on its chest. With each hit you pushed it back, away from Tara's room. A series of quick punches to the head and upper body should have finished the one in front of you off, and you would have, as you pulled your fist back, ready to slam a haymaker right to the side of its’ head, but instead, there was a loud bang, and you felt a piercing pain in your right side. You stumbled forward, stopping the flurry of punches and looking back, your eyes wide in surprise. The other Ghostface wasn't right behind you. It wasn't holding a knife. It was holding a gun.

"Guess you aren't invincible after all," the Ghostface taunted and went for your neck. With a grunt, you got back up and traded a blow to the side of the head for a cut across the right side of your jawline. Not too deep, but it would leave a scar. Ghostface didn't get up, but it didn't matter. You lost.

"How about we play a game, Y/N, where you don't move, and I don't shoot Tara."

Your blood ran cold, you tried to think of a way out, a way to save Tara, but you couldn’t find any solution. There wasn’t any way to save her, other than to hope that listening to the Ghostface would be enough to buy you some time to figure it out.

"Turn around," you obeyed the command and saw the gun was pointed toward Tara. "On your knees," what choice did you have? You weren't fast enough to reach Ghostface. You couldn't get between Tara and the gun. You couldn't do anything.

To make matters even worse you heard the one you just knocked down getting up. "You really are a guard dog," the phrase the one behind you said was familiar, in the back of your mind you knew you heard it dozens of times, but all you could focus on was the gun pointed at where you left Tara. At the moment, it hardly mattered where or who said that phrase before. And it certainly didn’t matter that he slammed the handle of the knife to the back of your neck, you didn’t react and that seemed to stop him from doing it again.

"Here's how things are going to go. One of you dies here, but one of you might just survive if you play along," the one with the gun decided. "Tara, come here or we'll slit Y/N's throat."

"Leave her out of this!" you immediately moved to get up, but the finger getting closer to the trigger stopped you and you settled down, biting your lip and forcing your body to stay still. Where was the security?! Surely someone heard a gunshot, right?

What were you thinking? As if they’d risk their lives to face a lunatic.

"You broke the first rule," the Ghostface behind you whispered in your ear and stabbed the knife into your left side. You barely held back a scream, instead inhaling sharply and gritting your teeth. Fighting professionally for two years made you think you could tolerate pain, and to an extent you could, much better than most people, but this was a whole different kind of pain. The warm blood soaking your shirt around the wound, the piercing pain, it was like nothing you have ever experienced.

And Tara was stabbed again and again, alone in her own house, where she was meant to be safe.

Your wounds didn't hurt nearly as much as hearing Tara whimper in pain as she got out of the room in her wheelchair. You could see the blood soaking her bandaged left hand and you desperately wanted to get to her, to protect her. "Y/N," she whispered weakly, tears filling her eyes.

For the first time in years, you truly weren't sure what to do to help her. You wanted to comfort her, to tell her it would all end well, but you couldn't.

"Now, here's a game we're going to play," the one near Tara spoke up and got behind Tara's wheelchair. "Are you scared Tara? Y/N failed to protect you."

"Fuck you," Tara gritted out, glaring despite the pain she was in.

"Another one," on command the Ghostface behind you added another stab to your left side.

"No!" Tara screamed as you gasped for breath.

"If you move in any way I don't want you to, Y/N gets another one of those. If she moves, I slit your pretty little throat. You got it, Baby?" Tara remained silent. "Guess that's another one then."

Realizing what Ghostface meant Tara quickly nodded. "I got it!" she cried out, her breathing already labored.

"That wasn't so hard, was it? Next up, you get to choose what happens. You can live by shooting your precious guard dog," you and Tara looked at each other, equally terrified. Of all the things the monster could have asked for... You couldn't even try to convince Tara to do it, because what if that made them change their mind and then they asked Tara to do something even worse.

"No, no," Tara shook her head as the gloved hand slid down to Tara's left hand.

"Do you need me to hold your hand?" Ghostface squeezed Tara's injured hand and then pointed the gun at you as Tara whimpered in pain. "It's easy. Look Baby," the Ghostface fired the gun and if the one behind you didn't hold you back you would have fallen to the floor. You gasped as the burning pain engulfed your abdomen and just for a moment you couldn't hear anything, not even Tara's screams of your name.

"So, so easy," the Ghostface leaned down next to Tara and, while still maintaining a strong grip on the gun, placed Tara's right hand on in.

"I'm begging you, don't make me do this," Tara wept as she desperately tried to get free from Ghostface's grip.

"Keep begging," the Ghostface encouraged, clearly pleased by Tara’s desperate attempts to plead for your life while pulling the sleeve of the jacket Tara was wearing up and then taking a knife and cutting through the bandages wrapped around her hand.

"I'll do anything else, whatever you ask, just please not this!" her voice was getting hoarse. "Please, anything but this!"

"Fine. Here's anything but that," and then, with the gun still in Tara's hand, the Ghostface pushed Tara's finger against the trigger and fired the gun. The bullets hit you in quick succession, one near your left shoulder, the other grazing your right shoulder.

"Y/N!" Tara's desperate scream echoed throughout the hall.

"Careful with that aim, you nearly shot me too," Ghostface behind you complained and pushed you down to the ground.

You could feel your heart beating faster, drops of cold sweat falling from your face as you tried to control yourself, to stay strong for Tara.

"You know I'd never hurt you," the other reassured and then got the gun out of Tara's hand. "I don't know what you are screaming about, Tara. You got what you wanted right? You didn't kill Y/N," the monster even began slowly reopening the wound on her hand, digging the tip of the knife into the surface,

“Stop that!” you raged, as Tara cried out. At this point, the situation was far too desperate to hope Tara would make it out of this alive, so you tried to find whatever strength was left in your body to get up. The weight on your back was too much and your arms, especially the left one gave out after a couple of attempts.

Tara's sobbing turned into coughing and wheezing and even from where you were you could see and hear she was struggling to breathe. Asthma. Now of all times. "Tara!" you couldn't remember the last time you yelled as loud as that. "You won! I can't fight back! Just let her go!"

"Let her go?" the Ghostface holding Tara reached around and squeezed her neck. "Why? She didn't do her part of the deal; she didn't kill you. Did you, Baby?" the monster ignored Tara's rapidly worsening condition and pointed the gun at you. "Hmm? Should I do it instead? That way you can feel less guilty. What do you say? Want me to do it just for you? Want me to kill the one you love so you don’t have to?"

Despite an asthma attack Tara quickly shook her head, her tear-filled eyes met yours for just a moment, the despair, the anguish showing in her eyes, almost made you look away.

"What was that? You have to speak up if you want something. Here, I'll even count to three. One," Ghostface taunted as Tara desperately opened her mouth, but all that came out were gasps and failed attempts at pleading for your life.

You doubled your efforts, managing to push your body up. You had no idea how much more Tara could take, and you were not about to find out.

"Hurry up and speak Baby, we're at two now," another taunt, another struggle, all for nothing.

"Damn it!" you yelled, pushing even harder to get up, but a stab below your shoulder blade made you drop down to your forearms once more.

"Oh, Baby, guess you don't love her enough, after all, all those times you daydreamed about your guard dog, all those nights you dreamt of her, and yet you just don’t love her enough," there was even a gleeful cheeriness in the bastard's voice.

"N-No!" it came out as if spoken by someone on the verge of drowning, desperate and gasping for breath, but there was no doubt what word came out of Tara's mouth.

For a moment everything stopped, your struggles to get free, both Ghostfaces, it all stopped. The only things that continued were Tara's desperate attempts to get her breathing under any semblance of control. "Please, no," it sounded even worse than the first no she spoke.

"Okay, okay, Baby, I get it," it started out calm, that damn voice, but then there was a muffled maniacal cackle. "Well, someone has to die, Tara! Otherwise, this was all for nothing!" and then the monster tilted the wheelchair, tossing Tara to the floor. "Guess you made the decision on who goes first!"

The pain from gunshots, the stab wounds, the weight pressing on your back; the adrenaline rushing through your body pushed all of that away when the Ghostface pointed the gun at Tara. Get to her. Nothing else matters! You abruptly pushed your body up, digging the knife deeper into your back. That didn't matter. In a split-second decision, realizing you couldn't just get up, you stopped holding your body up and twisted as both you and the Ghostface holding you down dropped to the floor. Your right elbow landed on the side of the Ghostface's head.

At last, you did it. You were stumbling back to your feet, but it was a few moments too late.

"Tara!" your eyes met as the trigger was pulled, but instead of a gunshot, all you heard was a deafening click. The euphoria at the realization the gun was fresh out of bullets added a much-needed boost of energy to your movements as you slammed a haymaker into the Ghostface's mask. The Ghostface dropped to the floor, and just for a moment, you considered finishing it off. It would end one half of this nightmare, and the other one would be easier to deal with, but Tara's coughing getting even worse made the decision for you.

There was no time left to finish the fight or to be gentle, and you dropped to your knees next to her. Getting hurt, aggravating the wounds, those could be fixed. Suffocating when there was no way you could get her to safety quickly enough, couldn't. So, you, as carefully as the situation allowed, turned Tara around.

She whimpered, biting her lip and then immediately continued coughing. As she struggled to take a breath you put your arms beneath her knees and upper back. "I got you, okay?" Tara managed a weak nod as you got back up, your knees nearly buckling under the pressure.

The first step was torture, unsteady and painful. Your arms screamed for you to just let go. You could feel the stab wounds and the gunshot wounds getting worse due to the strain you were putting on your body.

And then there was pressure on your gunshot wound. The one near your left shoulder. Tara, despite wheezing and gasping for air, couldn't take her eyes off the wound. The third gunshot. The one that happened while the gun was in the very same hand she was using to press on the wound. The steps that came after that became easier, quicker, and before you realized it you were back in her hospital room and putting her back on the bed.

The inhaler was, luckily, easy to find and you shook it before bringing it up to Tara's lips. She wouldn't take it though. Her eyes remained glued to your wounds. She was starting to sweat now, as her breathing became more and more shallow, but she kept pressing the wound, stuck in her thoughts, and likely blaming herself for that wound.

"Tara, look at me," you pleaded, cradling her cheek with your free hand. "Tara, please," panic was setting in. "Love, look at me," that somehow seemed to snap her out of it. You couldn't blame her, you had no idea where that one came from, but it got her to look you in the eyes. And that was all you needed, just Tara not looking at all the blood covering your upper body, or the blood slowly dripping from your jaw down your neck.

Finally, her lips parted, and she accepted the inhaler, and your body relaxed as Tara's breathing gradually went back to normal. Her right hand remained pressed against your wound. "I hurt you," she cried out, clutching your shirt as tightly as she could, despite her own pain.

"No. No, you didn't. You hear me? None of this is your fault," you took her hand, gently pulling it toward your heart. "Still beating, okay?"

Tara squeezed her eyes shut and nodded as tears fell from her eyes.

“I’m okay, Tara,” you wiped her tears away, smiling slightly when she leaned into your touch, her breathing shaky, but at least her asthma wasn’t an issue right now.

Both of you heard steps and your eyes widened at the realization. It wasn't over. Tara began shaking as she dragged her hand to the back of your neck. She pulled, simultaneously pulling you closer and pushing her body closer to you. You took a deep breath, just for one more moment basking in her warmth, and then you were ready for this to be your end, as long as you took these two down with you.

"Pull the knife out," you almost forgot it was still there. "I need a weapon."

Tara's eyes widened at that, but seeing the look in your eyes and hearing the steps approaching she shakily pulled your head to her shoulder and reached down for the knife. You bunched up some of her hospital gown and your jacket she was still wearing and bit down, trying not to notice how your blood stained her clothes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Tara kept repeating and your arms went around her as she began pulling the knife out. It hurt even more than it did when you got stabbed. You felt the blood trickling down your back, it wouldn't be long before the blood loss would kick in. You were already starting to feel lightheaded so maybe it already kicked in. All you knew was that the knife was out, that it was now on the floor next to you, that Tara was still apologizing, and that the footsteps stopped. From the sound of it, the bastard was right at the door.

You bit back a groan, picked up the knife from the floor, and got up as smoothly as you possibly could. "Damn, you're persistent..."

"I should say the same thing," the Ghostface, from his height you figured it was the one that was holding you down before, spoke. "You still want to fight?" thankfully, it looked like all the hits you landed were effective. There was an undeniable tremble in the attacker's posture. He wasn't as shaken as you were, but you had experience on your side, so things were more or less even you supposed.

"Tara is right behind me," you said, at peace with whatever was about to happen. You'd at least take these monsters down with you. As long as the other one doesn't get up right away you might actually do it. The bastard still didn't get into the hospital room. Not that it mattered. You'd wait. Maybe that would let you recover enough strength to pull through.

You felt a weak pull at your shirt and smiled somberly when you heard a sob. "Just in case I don't get another chance. You saved a life that had no right to continue. So let me-"

You were interrupted when several gunshots made the Ghostface in front of you and Tara run for cover.

"Tara!" you both heard Sam's shout and you couldn't help but grin as you looked back at Tara. Finally, there was relief in her eyes.

You sighed. "I'm getting you out of this damn town ASAP," and you would. Damn it, you would. The moment someone patched you up you'd be on your way to preferably Sacramento, or, alternatively, San Francisco. Susan was a nurse, she could take care of Tara, so you really hoped she'd let you stay at her place.

Sam rushed in along with a man you vaguely recognized. The former sheriff? You really didn't have the energy to think about that right now.

"Oh, Sam!" the relief in Tara's voice was like a balm to the wounds. Everything would be fine now.

"I'm here," Sam reassured Tara and then looked at you. "Oh, God, Y/N," yeah, you imagined there was a lot of blood, everything kind of felt wet and sticky.

"Come on, we need to get out of here," the man ushered the three of you.

"Y/N can't, she's injured," Tara sounded desperate and you couldn't blame her, you really couldn't. You were injured, she was injured, she couldn't walk and there were two murderers between you and safety.

You looked at her blankly. "You did not just..." oh, if you weren't already motivated to get the hell out of the hospital, now you'd move out of spite. You handed the knife to Sam. "How's this for 'can't', huh?" Tara yelped when you once again lifted her up. "Keep us safe?" the question was mostly directed at Sam.

"Of course," there was certainty in Sam's eyes. You could recognize that look, Tara could recognize that look. It was the same look you had plenty of times during the fight. Sam would rather die than let anything happen to Tara.

"Sam," Tara tried to speak, maybe to say something about the way they ended the conversation from earlier that day, or maybe it was something else entirely, but Sam just leaned in and kissed her forehead.

"We'll talk later," she promised softly.

The man, who you now realized was holding a gun, left the hospital room first and Sam followed him. You were the last to step outside and you looked at your options. The elevator would be the best option if you could reach it. It was far and there was a Ghostface in your path, the one that was holding Tara, the one you knocked out, at least temporarily. There was no telling how long Ghostface would stay unconscious though. Not to mention another one was still somewhere nearby. Still, the stairs, while closer, were probably even more dangerous. Not to mention that you, plain and simple, didn't have enough strength to do it. The man and Sam probably had a similar train of thought, as they began moving toward the elevator.

This time Sam was the one leading as the man remained close behind you. With the way your vision was getting blurry this really was the best option. If you and Sam switched you doubted you'd be able to fight back, like this, you were mostly moving on autopilot. You heard a commotion behind you, you were vaguely aware of Sam stopping, conflicted over helping the man or keeping her guard up in case the unconscious Ghostface regained consciousness and attacked again. You were completely aware of Tara's whimper, of her fear as she curled into you as much as she could. So, you kept moving. You passed the unconscious Ghostface, you reached the elevator, you got in. Sam got in. The man didn't.

They argue. Someone mentioned the head. Pain. Pressure on the chest. Shooting. Elevator lights.

Tara.

Too bright. The hall was dark. White flashes. Dizzy.

Tara.

Doors closing. Cold sweat. Words. Someone speaking. Buzzing. Heart is too loud. Heart. Brother.

Zack.

Keep going. In, out, two times in, out, in, two times out. Keep doing that. Keep breathing. You have to make sure Tara is safe. Keep breathing.

Tara.

Doors open. Move. Move. Move. Something pulls your head down.

Tara.

It's soft. Small. Trembling. Hand. You're moving.

Tara.

The hand vanishes. You feel lighter. Tara isn't struggling to stay in your arms. Did Sam take her? Who took her? Your vision clears just for a moment, and you see the doctors around the three of you.

Tara is safe.

Everything goes black.

~X~

Nothing could have prepared Sam for the way Tara cried out your name, raw, frightened, desperate for you to respond to her. It made Sam turn around just in time to see you stumbling back and dropping to the ground.

“Help her, please! I-“ Tara gasped, tethering on the edge of another asthma attack and causing Sam to rush to her side, to hold her and try to calm her down. “It’s my fault, it’s my fault,” Tara still cried covering her eyes with her hands and the blood stains left on her face, your blood on the side of Tara’s hospital gown and jacket… Tara felt it, the warmth and stickiness of it, the smell of it, and Sam couldn’t even begin to imagine how her sister must be feeling right now.

Sam knew you got seriously hurt, but seeing you carrying Tara made her think it wasn’t as bad as it looked. She looked back at you, just as you were being taken away, and then at the spot where you fell, and the stains of blood left behind. There was so much blood there and she feared you might not survive. It was only a fleeting fear, because you would survive. You’d survive, you’d survive for Tara. Sam had to believe I that, otherwise she’d start panicking as well.

“Sam, help Y/N,” Tara pleaded, looking up at Sam the same way she used to when they were children and thought Sam could do anything.

But Sam couldn’t do anything right now. She couldn’t help or fix you up, she could just wait with Tara.

“She’s strong, she’ll get through this,” was all she could say as she held Tara as tightly as she could without further aggravating Tara’s injuries.

Sam felt tears soaking through her shirt. “I shot her,” Tara said, and then repeated those same words, stuck in that moment, spiraling into guilt and fear and Sam had no way of helping her. She simply didn’t know how to properly approach Tara now. What to tell her, and Sam fully understood what the distance did to them. She no longer knew how to make her own sister, the person she loved the most, feel safe.

The only option remaining, before she got another asthma attack, or did something to worsen her wounds was to sedate her and check up on her injuries. And Sam? Sam felt helpless.

Even more so she saw Dewey in a body bag. Tara nearly getting killed twice, you nearly getting killed. Wes, Judy, and now Dewey, dead, all because some lunatic somehow found out she was Billy’s daughter and was now after her. In the back of her mind, she thought she didn’t deserve to be the one capable of making Tara feel safe, not when she was the reason why Tara wasn’t safe in the first place.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

[oysters-aint-for-me]

just stupid venting about mental illness etc.

ugh i don’t feel great and i thought it was allergies because i woke up with a bloody nose and a really itchy face and i’ve had a tickle in my throat but i told my dad about it and he was like “oh you’re probably getting what i had” which was some sort of bad cold/flu-like thing (not The flu but similar symptoms) and of course he says it all offhand because he’s not mentally ill and being sick isn’t a big deal to him. but now i’m really upset because the last two times i’ve been sick i have had the WORST sore throat, like, i was in tears, and i don’t want to go through that again, and now i’m dreading when it’ll hit hard, like watching a truck headed my way but i can’t move. AND this weekend is my birthday and it is the first time i’ve been like sort of okay with my birthday in several years. so of COURSE i would be sick this year meaning i won’t do anything for my birthday which ironically is all i have wanted for my birthday for the past 6 years EXCEPT THIS YEAR! but you know what, it doesn’t mean even matter, because everyone else already made plans to do other shit on my birthday so it already felt like people were trying to squeeze it into their busy normal healthy lives until i just gave up and decided what i was going to be doing by myself (LOTR marathon) and if other people want to show up they can. so yeah, that means it’ll just be me and my mom and my dad because no one else can fit me in. idk it’s like. the past several birthdays i have been forced to celebrate them even though i EXTREMELY didn’t want to, like, at all, i have been so profoundly uncomfortable every year, but i made myself go through with it with a smile because people want to be nice to you on your birthday and they get weird if you’re weird about it because then it’s like “uh oh now we have to comfort the mentally ill birthday person awkwaaard” and anyway i already didn’t care and so i just let them do whatever they wanted because at least it made them happy, you know? liek whatever, just go limp and go along with it. but this year i felt like i could actually try a little, and so i tried. and it didn’t even make a fucking difference. now, i know that getting sick right before my birthday isn’t like, some sort of narrative metaphor about how i’m doomed to unhappiness or part of some scheme where the universe is conspiring against me specifically. i know that. i know germs are random and that people are busy and that no one probably really paid enough attention (and i can’t fault them for that, it’s not like i made it easy) to realize how uninvolved and unhappy i have been in my past several birthdays so why would they think this one is particularly special. people don’t know what they don’t know and i can’t expect them to read my mind. i know that. but i wish i didn’t. i wish could give myself permission to feel irrationally angry or to blame something or someone else other than myself. i wish i could cite this information and then go wide with it and conclude that this is yet more evidence that i shouldn’t try to “get better.” but i know all of that is illogical and i know that other people would use cognitive behavioral logic against it if i told them and i know that they would be RIGHT. and i also know that none of that would change how i feel. and no, i don’t know 100% for sure that it wouldn’t help, that’s not logical either, but i do have a lifetime of experience so i can make a p good guess. but whatever, anyway i’m gonna be sick on my birthday anyway and i’ll be miserable just like i have been the last 6 years. so fuck me, i guess! ugh sorry anyway if you read this far thank you for “listening” 💜 i don’t feel better but it did make some time go by so eh you win some you lose some

[officialkatie]

just putting a long vent under a read more (i hope)

i should have guessed that after a week of sleeping well (bc sick) i wouldn’t be able to sleep. also i hate my monday class. i have 10 left but god at what cost its completely unbearable and the professor is one of the reasons i dont want to teach anymore. how could you say to people going to school to be a teacher “youre gonna be so stressed and good luck bc it sucks”

i know i dont want to be a teacher anymore and im finishing my degree to get the job i DO want. but at the same time i dont want any job. i hate working. how do people do it. how has my high school italian teacher taught in the same place for 51 years and still going? how does he not feel defeated? i havent even started a Real Job yet and i hate it. i havent had a moments peace or a day without something looming over me since ever. since at least before covid. but then that added ANOTHER thing to loom over me that will never go away.

i hate that i have to have a checklist in my mind of all the things i have to do before i graduate. it should be easy!

-finish classes

-student teach

-get certification

but its NOT that easy. bc in order to finish classes thats this semester. thats 10 more sucky mondays with an awful professor in which i also have to observe 15 hours at a school (on top of the 100 required hours i already did, im not currently in a school and i didnt know about this and we were all so pissed and just another reason i hate this professor), 1 more week of incredibly intensive classes which GREAT! more time for the stinky class. 9 more tuesdays bc the schedule is so weird, all while working part time and doing homework and figuring out student teaching and having personal responsibilities and a relationship and maintaining my health. its no wonder im sick. then once the semester is over its work work work. bc i cant work while i student teach. no break for katie. i have to focus on holidays and pretending to care about people who cant even remember my birthday. its not that hard to remember. i remember all of yours so whats up with that. then i go to orientation for student teaching and then i do it. i dont know where yet! bc i have to email the man who’s been screwing me over every step of the way (another thing for the to do list). and once a week while i student teach i go to a seminar class. a new update to the academic schedule means my class could end at 10:40 pm. who does that. i live an hour away from campus. if my class ends at 10:40 im going to fail. then i do that for “75” days (in quotes bc there’s not even 75 school days in the spring semester yet thats my requirement?) and then i graduate. should be easy peasy. then i go to the real word and back to my part time job while i look for real job so i can move out and live with the one person who gets me and doesnt make me feel bad for living. and we’re gonna have a great life together but thats another to do list. find an apartment find a job move pay rent pay utilities try not to kill yourself make friends even though you’re socially inept ever since leaving college and your social life is in shambles. eat healthy.

im literally a mess and im so congested and i hate not sleeping and this is just making it worse. i have james taylor in my head and my stomach hurts so bad bc i ate like shit today. i wish i could turn off my brain and i tried using headspace app and thats another thing. i updated my student status and they sent me a confirmation. yet charged me for full price. and you cant even unsubscribe yourself. you need to email someone and so i did and they sent me back “we got ur email! sorry we’re taking so long:(((“ and charged me with a full smile on their stupid faces. if i can figure out how to rip from that app you bet your asses i will

i really need a break.

i feel so bad getting this degree and its not bc im wasting my own money. my parents are paying and they’re so supportive and dont care that id rather do something education-adjacent and my boss at my part time job says she’d be so happy to have me while i figure my shit out after graduation. all i have to do is drag my lifeless body across the stage at graduation. i have a part time job after that and i wont be tackling things alone after that. i have good references and im qualified for the job i want. all i have to do is get there but its SO HARD and i can’t stop thinking about how much its going to take to get me there. its like looking at a number line. sure YOU see the whole number integers but to me there’s a universe in between 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and 5. im trying so hard to not get caught up in those universes but man does that take brain capacity i do not possess.

if i have to work forever into an endless oblivion im going to hit myself in the face with a brick. i love having days off and going to museums and walking through the park and going around to coffee shops and record stores and just enjoying life. if my quality of life enjoyment is diminishing NOW what will it be like when i have to go to work every day instead of having off two days a week for school and to catch up on life?? am i doomed to be boring and hate life?? how can i live if i cant LIVE? (2 am drama,everyone.) the thought of taking “personal days” seems like hell to me. i just dont want to work on a schedule like that. i can give 10000% at work its been seen its been done but i control the schedule right now. take that away and it’s over

at least my dog barking at 2 am did not wake me up. i am already up sir and i feel like my butt is on fire. and my legs are so restless.

and another thing? he’s barking bc my sister is coming home. ever since she moved back home things are worse for me. she’s so messy and i am so not and it really gets under my skin and overwhelms me. and she is inconsiderate of other people and takes my stuff. why do i have to parent my older sister. doesnt she know she’s building up my resentment for her. i dont want to spend time with her and my mom looooves to guilt me about it bc of her relationship with her sister. but then she and my dad go and mumble under their breath about how they cant wait for her to finish her masters thesis (not gonna happen,im gonna graduate with my masters before her and she’s two years older than me and has been working on thesis for 3+ years now) and leave bc she’s turning our house into a trainwreck. why cant she just live with her boyfriend who is (to me) deadbeat. nice guy but like i dont even know what his job is? is there one? (also not fair to him bc the standards for partners in my family have been set verrry high: see above future roommate. he is universally adored while sister bf? jury is still out. also i maintain that my sister is a homewrecker. i guess both figuratively and literally at this point.)

anyways my tumblr is getting laggy so i guess thats my sign to end this. im sure that i will not sleep.

[thebibliosphere]

So I'm currently unemployed because I got fired for taking too much sick leave (it was legally sketchy blah blah blah but in the end I just can't work and take care of myself and investigate my mystery health problems at the same time). So I've been spending more time writing!

I really admire your writing and loved Hunger Pangs. I'm looking forward to the poly elements developing and I'm wondering if you have any advice for writing about poly. I've made one of my projects a snarky take on "write what you know" ... Apparently what I know is southern gothic meets Pacific northwest gothic, chronic illness pandemic surrealism, and falling back-asswards into threesomes.

I know this is a very open-ended question and I don't expect an answer, I'm just curious about it if you have the energy. As a writer, trying to write honestly / realistically about polyamory/enm, I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what's different about portraying monogamy or nonmonogamy in books, romance or erotica or otherwise.

I'm trying to read examples but it's hard to find examples that fit the niche I'm looking at. Excuse me if this question is nonsense, it's the cluster headaches.

I'm sorry to hear you've been dealing with all that and solidarity on the cluster headaches. But I'm glad you're finding an outlet through writing! And I hope you're happy with an open-ended ramble in response because oh boy, there's a lot I could talk about and I could probably do a better job of answering this sort of thing with more specific questions, but let's see where we end up.

There's definitely a big difference between writing polyamory/ENM (ethical non-monogamy) and what people often expect from monogamous love stories.

Just even from a purely sales and marketing standpoint, the moment you write anything polyamorous (or even just straight up LGBTQIA+ without the ENM) you're going to get considered closer to being erotica/obscene than hetero romances. It's an unfair bias, but it's one that exists in our society. But also the Amazon algorithm and their shitty, shitty human censors. Especially the ones that work the weekends. (Talking to you, Carlos 🖕.)

So not only do you start out hyper-aware that you're writing something that is highly stigmatized or fetishized (at least I'm hyper-aware) but that you are also writing for a niche market that is starving for positive content because the content that exists is either limited, not what they want, or is problematic in some fashion i.e. highly stigmatized or fetishy. And even then, the wants, desires, and expectations of the community you're writing for are complex and wildly varied and hard to fit into an easy formula.

When writing monogamous love stories, there is a set expectation that’s really hard to fuck up once you know it. X person meets Y. Attraction happens, followed by some sort of minor conflict/resolution. Other plot may happen. A greater catalyst involving personal growth for both parties (hopefully) happens. Follow the equation to its ultimate resolution and achieve Happily Ever After. 

But writing ENM is... a lot more difficult, if only because of the pure scope of possibilities. You could try to follow the same equation and shove three (or more) people into it, but it rarely works well. Usually because if you’re doing it right, you won’t have enough room in a single character arc to allow for enough growth, and if ENM requires anything in abundance, it’s room to grow.

And this post is huge so I’m going to put the rest under a cut :)

There's also a common refrain in certain online polyam/ENM circles that triads and throuples are overrepresented in media and they may be right to some extent. Personally, I believe the issue isn't that triads and throuples are overrepresented, but that there is such minuscule positive rep of ethical non-monogamy in general, that the few tiny instances we have of triads in media make it seem like it's "everywhere" when in actuality, it's still quite rare and the media we do have often veers into Unicorn Hunter fetish porn. Which is its own problematic thing. And just to be clear, I’m not including this part to dissuade you from writing "falling back-asswards into threesomes." If anything, I need more of it and would hook it directly into my brain if I could. I'm just throwing it out there into the void in the hope that someone will take the thought and run with it, lol.

I’d love to see more polyfidelitous rep in fiction, just as much as I’d like to see more relationship anarchy too. More diversity in fiction is always good.

Another thing that differs in writing ENM romance vs conventional monogamy is the feeling like you need to justify yourself. There's a lot of pressure to be as healthy and non-problematic as possible because you are being held to a higher standard of criticism. Both from people from without the ENM communities, and from the people within. Granted, some people don't give a shit and just want to read some fantastic porn (valid) but there are those who will cheerfully read Fifty Shades of Bullshit and call it "spicy" and "romantic," then turn around and call the most tooth-rottingly-sweet-fluff about a queer platonic polycule heresy. That's just the way the world works.

(Pro-tip for author life in general: never read your own reviews; that way madness lies. I glimpsed one the other day that tagged Hunger Pangs as “ethical cheating” and just about had an aneurism.)

And while that feeling of needing to justify yourself comes from a valid place of being excluded from the table of socially accepted norms, it can also be to the detriment of both the story and the subject matter at hand. I've seen some authors bend so far over backward to avoid being problematic in their portrayal of ENM, they end up being problematic for entirely different reasons. Usually because they give such a skewed, rose-tinted perspective of how things work, it ends up coming off as well... a bit culty and obnoxious tbh.

“Look how enlightened we are, freed from the trappings of monogamy and jealousy! We’re all so honest and perfect and happy!”

Yeah, uhu, sure Jan. Except here’s the thing, not all jealousy is bad. How you act on it can be, but jealousy itself is an important tool in the junk drawer that is the range of human emotion. It can clue us in to when we’re feeling sad or neglected, which in turn means we should figure out why we’re feeling those things. Sometimes it’s because brains are just like that and anxiety is a thing. Other times it’s because our needs are actually being neglected and we are in an unhealthy situation we need to remedy. You gotta put the work in to figure it out. Which is the same as any style of relationship, whether it’s mono, polyam or whatever flavor of ENM you subscribe to* And sometimes you just gotta be messy, because that’s how humans are. Being afraid to show that mess makes it a dishonest portrayal, and it also robs you of some great cannon fodder for character development.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to my current pet peeve in how certain writers take monogamous ideals and apply them to ENM, sometimes without even realizing it. The “Find the Right Person and Settle Down” trope.

Often, in this case, ENM or polyamory is treated as a phase. Something you mature out of with age or until you meet “The One(tm).” This is, of course, an attempt to follow the mono style formula expected in most romances. And while it might appeal to many readers, it’s uh, actually quite insulting. 

To give an example, I am currently seeing this a lot in the Witcher fandom. 

Fanon Netflix!Jaskier is everyone's favorite ethical slut until he meets Geralt then woops, wouldn’t you know, he just needed to find The One(tm). Suddenly, all his other sexual and romantic exploits or attractions mean nothing to him. Let's watch as he throws away a core aspect of his personality in favor of a man. 

Yeah... that sure showed those societal norms... 

If I were being generous, I’d say it’s a poor attempt at showing New Relationship Euphoria and how wrapped up people can become in new relationships. But honestly, it’s monogamous bias eking its way in to validate how special and unique the relationship is. Because sometimes people really can’t think of any other way to show how important and valid a relationship is without defining it in terms of exclusivity. Which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how ENM works for a lot of people and invalidates a lot of loving, serious and long-term relationships.

This is not to say that some polyam/poly-leaning people can't be happy in monogamous relationships! I am! (I consider myself ambiamorous. I'm happy with either monogamy or polyamory, it really just depends on the relationship(s) I’m in.) But I also don't regard my relationship with a mono partner as "settling down" or "growing up." It's just a choice I made to be with a person I love, and it's a valid one. Just like choosing to never close yourself off to multiple relationships is valid. And I wish more people realized that, or rather, I wish the people writing these things knew that :P

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. I hope this collection of incoherent thoughts actually makes some sense and might be useful. 

----

*A good resource book that doesn't pull any punches in this regard is Polysecure by Jessica Fern. It's a wonderfully insightful read that explores the messier side of consensual non-monogamy, especially with how it can be affected by trauma or inter-relationship conflicts. But it also shows how to take better steps toward healthy, ethical non-monogamy (a far better job than More Than Two**) and conflict resolution, making it a valuable resource both for someone who is a part of this relationship style***, but also for writers on the outside looking in who might have a very simple or misguided idea of what conflict within polyam/ENM relationships might look like, vs traditional monogamous ones.

** The author of More Than Two has been accused of multiple accounts of abuse within the polyamorous community, with many of his coauthors having spoken out about the gaslighting and emotional and psychological damage they experienced while in a relationship with him. A lot of their stories are documented here: https://www.itrippedonthepolystair.com/ (warning: it is not light material and deals with issues of abuse, gaslighting, and a whole other plethora of Yikes.) While some people still find More Than Two helpful reading, there are now, thankfully, much, much better resources out there.

*** Some people consider polyam/ENM to be part of their identity or orientation, while others view it as a relationship style.It largely depends on the individual. 

[ally22042000]

Linked by fate

Shifting

Werewolf AU

Fluff, Angst

OT7 x Reader

Pack Alpha: Namjoon Alpha: Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook Beta: Seokjin, Yoongi, Taehyung Omega: Y/N

Wordcount: 1.7K

Commenting and rebloging is always appreciated.

A/N: Hey, guys. I hope you are going to like this chapter. I was thinking about creating little mood boards, so you have an overview of their fur colour, etcetera. Let me know what you think about that. -Ally

It was in elementary when your animal instincts slowly started to make their appearances. While the position a wolf had was clear from birth, their natural behaviours didn’t start to show until later into their upbringings. Unhurriedly the process begins during childhood and steadily takes over more of their senses. The stronger instincts like the alpha’s power to force others to follow any of their command or heats and ruts, didn’t begin until the late teenage years. To ensure the safety of everyone and the capability for beta and omega parents to raise alpha children.

Another feature that slowly starts is the ability to turn into your wolf form. Namjoon was the first of our pack to shift. The calling to protect his younger to strong. It took over his body and made him show his true power as the pack alpha he was born to be. His parents were immensely proud, thankful that he wasn’t a late shifter. Wolfs that didn’t turn before their fourteenth birthday were often frowned upon and seen as a lacking member of the clan.

Next in line was Hobi. He had always had a strong connection to his basic instincts. Having been trained to fight from a young age and coming from a strong lineage of worriers, nobody was surprise that he shifted shortly after he turned nine. Since than he often favoured to walk around in is furred form. It felt more like himself, is what he said whenever someone asked.

Jungkook shift was a surprise to everyone. It was rare for someone, who didn’t come from a strong blood line to turn before their tenth birthday but like always the golden boy defeated any standards and turned on his eight birthday. All of you had gathered in his small living room. With his parents both being omegas they weren’t able to afford much. Most jobs, especially the ones who help authority, where given to alphas or betas. Omegas were regarded as to much of a push over to stand their ground when needed. That lead to them having a smaller income than the other to wolf species. But disregarding the financial consequences and the fact they wouldn’t be able to have a child with each other, they stayed together; their love too strong to break. Considering the impossibility of them having a child together, Jungkook knew from a young age, that he was adopted. A fact that never bothered him. Something his parents were eternally grateful for.

His mother brought in the cake and set it down in front of the little boy. Everyone around him was singing, while he closed his eyes and made a wish. Desiring that this moment would never fade, him surrounded by the people he cared deeply for. Everyone healthy and a smile painting their lips while they celebrated his birthday. He filled his lungs with air and looked at the eight little flames in front of him. But instead of the sound of rushing air and cheering, the ripping of cloth was heard, and a little black wolf was sat on the stool in lieu.

The room went silent everyone staring at the puppy with the big eyes. Slowly similes formed on their faces, happy that a new wolf found its fur. Cheers and clapping filled the room. Congratulations came flying Jungkook’s way, little hands stretching and shoving to touch his fur. His father returning with a camera and capturing the scene. His mother wiping away a stray tear of happiness. Glad she was able to witness that new chapter in her son’s live. Meanwhile Jin watched the situation from his chair unmoving and having eyes for one thing and one thing only: “Yeah, that’s really great but can we eat cake now.”

Jin and Tae funnily shifted at the same time. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon and all of you with the exception of Namjoon and Hoseok, who were attending a pack meeting in request of their parents, were playing in Yoongi’s backyard. Both his parents were gone one a hunting trip for a few days, like they often were, leaving Yoongi and his brother on their own. The beta was in his wolf form, having turned a few weeks ago while turning on the shower and the water having been too cold. His brown fur with a read hint feeling silky as you braided it. When you stared, he let out a little huff, showing annoyance at your antics, but being too lazy to move he let you do your thing. You smirked to yourself, knowing that he actually enjoyed the feeling of your finger running through his fur.

Jimin and Jungkook were training on one side of the huge yard. Both of them started taking a liking to taekwondo. Meanwhile the other two troublemakers were playing a game of badminton on the other side of the field. A loud yell was heard, when Jin lost another point to the younger, the wind’s fault of course.

After two more failed attempts the oldest threw down his racked in anger and started chasing the dark haired. Laughter filled the air as Tae took off. The feel of the chase awoke something primal in Jin and before he knew it a new sensation washed over his skin and he suddenly chased Tae on four legs instead of the usual two. The youngers instincts were triggered by the older wolf chasing him and his own first shift took place. Tae had a soft looking, sand coloured fur, while Jin was another brown one but with more of an ashy touch.

The rest of the afternoon the both of them explored their new ability alongside Jungkook. Jimin had taken residency behind you, back hugging you while watching the others. Although you couldn’t see his face, you felt the wave of sadness that washed over him. The both of you were the only ones who hadn’t turned yet. You were only twelve so you still had enough time before it would be considered abnormal, but the pressure lingered.

Jimin didn’t turn until he was seventeen, a fact which cost him a lot of fights with his parents and multiple appointments with his doctor. Countless nights spent in your bed, crying into your pillow, screaming because of the pain this was causing him. With him being the alpha, he was expected to be this strong wolf that no one stood a chance against, but here he was not able to do the simplest thing known to your beings.

When he did turn his wolf was coated in a beautiful fur of the purest white you had ever laid eyes upon. His animal form as elegant as his human. His parents were proud and from there perspective Jimin’s flaw had faded just like their problems, but in reality, their relationship never went back to the way it was. He wasn’t the kid that ran home from school because he missed his mother anymore. Or the one that would tremble on his feet at his first dance performance, until he saw his fathers encouraging smile, which could wash away any problem, and let him be the beautiful swan he was.

You had turned a day after Jimin, had cried yourself to sleep the night before at the fact that you were the only one of your group that hadn’t turned yet. You were happy for Jimin when he called you and told you about the great news; genuinely. But the fear and self-hatred crawled up on you at night. Reminding you of your duty, as an omega and as a wolf, to your pack and your incapability of living up to it.

The following day you felt nauseous and empty, but still your parents forced you to attend school. As a senior it was important to be present as often as possible and to learn until your brain smoked to insure you could attend the collage of your choosing. You made it to two lessons, before the sick feeling in your stomach won the upper hand and you ran to the bathroom. Having arrived at the stall and preparing yourself to let out your small breakfast, a warmth like never before overcame you. You let out a pained breath as you felt your body expand and your cloth rip. And then you stood there, grey fur covering your body as you saw yourself in the bathroom mirror.

Your ears flexed at every sound that could be heard from outside. The footsteps of a person running somewhere; probably late for class. The uncomfortable squeaking of a chalk on a black board. Then a waft of a delicious smell slipped through the opening beneath the door. The cafeteria ladies had started cooking lunch. Hamburgers and fries how it seemed. And then you could smell a familiar scent, one that you would be able to pick up anywhere. Clumsily you were able to open the door with your bowl sized paws. You hurried down the hallway, slipping a few times on the freshly cleaned tiles.

You almost ran Namjoon over when you saw him. Standing before his locker, he was grabbing a history book for his next lesson, when you bumped into him. At first, he was simply shocked, pondering why a stranger would run into him like that. But then he picked up on your sent slowly, his olfactory sense not having fully developed yet, it took him awhile to realise who was standing in front of him.

A lazy grin covered his face as realisation hit him. Slowly he got down on his knees and warped his arms around your neck: “Hello my pretty omega, welcome to your true form.”

The others were ecstatic when they heard the good news. Happy that all of their group members had been blessed with the ability to shift, knowing of the horrific outcome the situation could have had, had you not turned before your eighteenth birthday. When every wolf was fully developed, and alphas gained the capability of forming their pack and gifting their mark.

Your pack was safe, healthy, and happy, and that was all that concerned you for now.

[tchallasbabymama]

All For Us Chapter 5

Hey y’all, hope you enjoy the chapter a day early! Check out my masterlist to catch up on this story or read my other ones. And, as always, reblogs and comments are more than welcome 🥰

Word Count: 5,471

CW: Mention of self-harm

Erik fidgeted in his chair as he waited for his family to walk through the door. He had seen each of them individually at least once, Shuri being the only one who never came back, but something about seeing them all together had him on edge. His right leg couldn’t stop bouncing, and he tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair impatiently. 

“Don’t worry, the Udakus are never on time,” Naomi reassured him as he looked to the clock for the second time in the last minute. Their appointment started five minutes ago.

“They run on CP time, huh?” he joked, trying to distract himself from his nerves. 

“CP time?”

“Colored people time...the name’s dated as hell, but basically Black people ain’t ever on time.”

“That is true of Wakanda as well,” she laughed. “Time is more of a suggestion here.”

“I can fuck with it,” he chuckled but was cut short by the thumping in his chest as the door opened, and T’Challa walked in, holding the door for the rest of the family.

“Your highnesses,” Naomi saluted them. “Please, come in and make yourselves comfortable.”

Naomi had arranged the chairs in her office so that the six of them sat in a circle. Mira sat between Erik and Ramonda, and Shuri chose the seat closest to Naomi. T’Challa sat between his mother and sister and threw a smile Erik’s way.

“Thank you all for coming here today. It is imperative that Erik has a healthy support system when he leaves here, and I just wanted to make sure we are all on the same page. I know you have each met with him individually, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to get it all out there and move forward as a unit. Now, I know we all want what’s best for Erik-”

Shuri scoffed, and Naomi turned to her.

“Princess, I heard you still have some reservations about him. Why?”

“He killed my brother,” she seethed.

“Shuri, I am right here,” T’Challa said, exasperated at her unwillingness to see past her anger.

“By the grace of Bast!”

“Shuri,” Ramonda chided.

“Queen Mother, if you don’t mind, I think this is a conversation that needs to happen between these two.”

Ramonda nodded and gestured for Shuri to continue.

“You’re only here because Nakia snatched a heart-shaped herb before he burnt the rest of them to the ground. It’s taken this long for them to even start growing again. All he does is destroy, and I don’t want him here. It’s bad enough you made me heal him, but now I have to look at him every day and pretend to like him, too?”

“You don’t have to like him, Shuri, but he is family-”

“That didn’t mean anything when he threw you over the falls or when he almost killed me, so why should it matter now?”

“Because I’m not that same person anymore,” Erik jumped in.

“Oh, sure. You’re just magically better all of a sudden,” she rolled her eyes and turned back to her brother. “How am I supposed to sleep at night knowing he’s in the palace?”

“Princess Shuri, Erik has been working very hard to overcome his anger and his past traumas. So much so that I see no need to extend his stay past what we originally agreed on.”

“Wait, really?” Erik’s face brightened, and he turned in his seat to look at Naomi.

“Yes. You have shown remarkable improvement, Erik.”

“You mean he can come home soon?” Queen Mother asked, prompting Erik and Shuri to feel very different ways about her use of the word “home.” Erik missed having one, and Shuri hated having him in hers.

“Yes, ma’am, he’ll be out of here in two weeks.”

Mira couldn’t contain her smile as she reached for his hand. They locked eyes, and yet again, the look in his eyes needed no words. They were glassy as they swelled with tears, and a couple fell while Naomi handed him the tissue box.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Ramonda asked.

“My bad,” he sniffled as he dried his tears. “I just really want to see Cupcake.”

“She wants to see you, too. I told her you were sick and had to get better before she could, but she’s been asking me about you damn near every second.”

“And me, as well. She is excited to meet you, cousin,” T’Challa chimed in. “‘Do you think daddy will like this?’, ‘When is he coming home?’, ‘Is daddy still sick?’, ‘Can you tell daddy I love him?’”

“Or my personal favorite, ‘Can we bring some to daddy?’ after dinner last night,” Ramonda added.

“She’s still a daddy’s girl, through and through,” Mira said with a sarcastic eye-roll, making Naomi chuckle.

“Yes, mine is the same way. It is quite frustrating,” she joked. “Now, I think it would be beneficial for us to go around the room and get it all out on the table. Princess Shuri already went, unless you have more to say…”

“No.”

“Ok, then King T’Challa, how about you go next?”

He nodded and looked to his cousin.

“I do not think I have said this to you yet, but I am genuinely sorry, Erik-”

“Stop, you didn’t do anything.”

“I know, but I needed to say it. I am also sorry I disobeyed your wishes; that was something I should not have done.”

“I’ll say,” Shuri mumbled under her breath.

“But I am glad that I did. Otherwise, we would not get to see this other side of you.”

“Thanks, man. I was in a bad place, obviously, and, uh...I don’t know, I just felt like a failure...I felt like I had nothing to live for anymore...my pride was hurt.”

Mira slowly pulled her hand back and placed it in her lap, and Erik could feel the tension brewing beneath the surface.

“Anything else, my king?”

“Just that I hope we can move past all of this and build a relationship. You are my cousin, and I am determined to love you whether you want me to or not.”

Erik and Mira both smirked at the king. They were thankful for the kindhearted man and his insistence on cleaning up the bad blood in his family. 

“Queen Mother, do you have anything you would like to share?”

“Yes, actually,” she reached into her bag and pulled out something that had been gift-wrapped. She handed it to Erik, and he looked at her in confusion. “Go ahead, open it.”

Everyone looked on with intrigue as he ripped at the paper, revealing a gold picture frame. Erik flipped the frame over and a lump formed in his throat.

“This is from a gala for the Pan African Council in 1991. It was one of the two times I met him.”

Drops of water splashed on the picture of N’Jobu, and Erik looked up for a leak in the ceiling before he realized the tears were flowing from his eyes. He grabbed another tissue and passed the box around when he realized the others were getting misty-eyed as well. Even Shuri. 

“I, uh...I don’t know what to say...thank you, Auntie,” he croaked as he got up and pulled her into a hug. Mira took the opportunity to take a look at the picture. They had the same look in their eyes, but feature-wise, Erik had to have taken after his mother. There was no doubt about it though, those deep brown puppy dog Udaku eyes were front and center.

Erik sat down, and she handed the photo back to him.

“May I see?” T’Challa asked, and Erik passed it to him, watching as Shuri took a look over his shoulder to see it too. Her face softened a little more, and Erik could swear she saw a hint of sadness there. He passed it back, and Erik simply stared at the photo, fingers lightly caressing the fame.

“Alright, lastly, we have Mira. Anything to add?”

“Not really,” she shook her head.

“Well, then may I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Earlier, you seemed upset when Erik mentioned not having anything to live for. Care to expand on that?”

“Not really.”

“Mira...you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it, Erik? You said you have nothing to live for, yet your daughter and I were sitting at home waiting for you.”

“I wasn’t in my right mind, Mira. All that mattered was the mission. I lost myself to it. Actually, I lost myself a long time ago, but at the time, nothing could’ve pulled me back...not even you or Imani.”

“What if it happens again. Not for this, but for something else? What if you start working again and go back to your old ways? What then?”

“I won’t.”

“How am I supposed to trust that, Erik?”

“Mira, I’d like to jump in if you don’t mind.”

Mira shook her head and gestured for Naomi to continue.

“I understand your hesitance, but I assure you, I have the utmost faith that Erik has changed. His behaviors were tied to his trauma, and we have been able to work through his feelings of grief, anger, guilt, and self-loathing.”

“Self-loathing?” Queen Mother asked.

“Erik, would you care to…”

“Yeah, sure,” he cleared his throat. “I, uh, sort of hated myself for a long time. Everybody I loved died, and I had some sort of...what did you call it?”

“Survivor’s remorse.”

“Yeah, survivor’s remorse. I felt guilty for not dying.”

Mira looked up at him and her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to keep the tears at bay.

“Then I felt guilty for all the shit I did to survive, and how violent I became...then the self-hate kicked in when I realized how good I was at it.” His fingers ran over the scars on his forearm, and he took a deep breath. “These aren’t trophies. They’re my sins.”

The room fell silent.

“How many?” Shuri asked tentatively.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“I do,” Mira chimed in. “I’ve tried counting them, but you’re such a light sleeper it’s impossible. I can guess though...I got to five hundred once before you woke up one morning.”

“I don’t want you to look at me differently-”

“Erik, you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, but nobody here will look at you any differently if you do. Right?”

Everyone agreed, even Shuri. 

Erik took a deep breath and hung his head before speaking, “Three thousand and nine scars...three thousand and nine people are dead because of me.”

“You’re not that person anymore, Erik,” Naomi reminded him.

“Yeah, but what if I am?”

“You’re not,” Mira reached for his hand again.

“How do you know?”

“Cousin, I can guarantee you that even in the short time we have known each other, you have changed.”

“Erik, you should trust yourself more. You’ve been given the tools you need; you just have to use them.”

He nodded slowly, taking in Naomi’s wise words.

“It also helps if you’re surrounded by people who love and support you.” She turned to Shuri, “Princess, let us work through your feelings.”

“I already said what I needed to say. I don’t trust him...but I’m not saying it’ll be like that forever. Just for now, I still don’t.”

“And why is that?”

“Have you ever had someone try to kill you?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.”

“You never forget the look in their eyes.”

“I understand you, sister. It is not an easy thing to get past...however, it is possible. Look at him now. Do you see those same eyes?”

Erik looked at Shuri, and her stone face softened a little but still stayed pretty wooden.

“No.”

“Look, I get it...I’m your T’Chaka, but I don’t wanna be that person anymore. Not to Mira, not to Imani, not to y’all-”

“Don’t forget yourself. You’re doing this for you, too,” Mira chimed in, and Erik nodded.

“We are still working on self-love, but I feel that the next two weeks will be fruitful,” Naomi said, closing her notebook. “Is there anything else you all need to get off your chests?”

“I have one more thing,” Mira said as she sat up in her chair and turned her body to face Erik.

“I never told you what happened after you left,” she said, trying to keep it together. “I, um...I got depressed again, like when Imani was born. It wasn’t pretty, but I made sure she was good. I couldn’t eat. All I wanted to do was sleep. It got so bad I had to quit my job and go live with Stefan and Havana. I know that’s what you suggested in the first place, but I thought I could handle it on my own. I’m basically a stay-at-home mom now; I take care of the kids while Stef and Ana are at work...cooking and cleaning, and all that jazz. I never thought I would like that life, but it’s nice, and it’s a good way to repay them for letting us stay there. You wouldn’t believe how big SJ is now, and they have a new baby Daveed...things are different now, but it’s nice.”

“Have you...are you seeing anybody?”

“No, but I tried dating...didn’t work out.”

Erik tried and failed to hide the smirk on his face.

“I can’t say I’m sorry about that, but I am sorry about what I put you through, Mira. I shouldn’t have left you two.”

“I know you know that now; I just wish you knew it then.”

He pulled her hand to his lips for a kiss, and she let him.

“Are we still separated?”

Both Ramonda and T’Challa’s eyebrows raised. Neither of them was aware that the two had been having marital problems. T’Challa never even thought to ask.

“Erik, I need to tell you something…”

His breath hitched in his throat.

“I’m not saying it’s what I want now...but I was going to serve you with divorce papers. I had them drawn up and everything. They just needed your signature, but I couldn’t bring myself to give them to you. I was going to give them to you when you came back...if you came back.”

“And now?”

“Now...I don’t know, Erik. I think I have to get to know this new you to decide.”

“That’s fair.” He said to the ground before lifting his head and looking Mira in her eyes. “I’m gonna make you want to marry me all over again, though. Watch.”

--------

“If you don’t sit still, you’re going just like this,” Mira fussed as she tried to braid Imani’s hair. 

“No, I’ll stop!” Imani tried her best not to move, but the pillow she was sitting on was starting to get uncomfortable, and she was getting antsy. Every second that passed brought her one step closer to meeting her daddy, and she couldn’t wait. All she had to do was get through the school day. 

Mira smirked and tilted Imani’s head to the side to start on the last braid right as Shuri walked into the living room and plopped in the chair across from them. 

“Rough night?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Over the past two weeks, Shuri had been slowly opening up to the idea of Erik living in the palace, but when she closed her eyes at night, she just kept seeing him lurking over her bed, ready to strike. 

“Something on your mind?” Mira asked through gritted teeth that held a tiny black rubber band.

“No, just...apprehensive.”

“About Erik?” Mira mouthed to her so Imani couldn’t hear. Shuri nodded and sunk deeper into the chair with a sigh. Mira finished up Imani’s last braid and put a couple of beads on the end before kissing the top of her head. “Ok, you’re done. Can you go get dressed?”

“Ok, mommy!” Imani took off, but before Mira could tell her to slow down, T’Challa came around the corner and scooped her up, planting a kiss on her cheek. Imani’s giggles erupted throughout the expansive living area and forced Shuri to crack a smile.

“Why are you running in my palace?” he playfully chastised her.

“I’m happy I get to meet my daddy. If I put my school clothes on fast, it’ll happen faster!”

“Well, let’s make it even faster then!” T’Challa took off with her down the hall, leaving Shuri and Mira in the living room laughing at his shenanigans.

“When is he gonna have one of his own?”

Shuri’s eyes rolled all the way to the back of her head. “As soon as he stops chasing after a woman who wants to live on the other side of the planet.”

“Nakia still giving him the runaround?”

“Girl, you don’t know the half of it,” Shuri complained. “Maybe you or Erik can talk some sense into him.”

“Maybe...you seem to be warming up to the idea of him lately. How are you feeling?”

Shuri sighed and sat forward in her chair, resting her elbows on her thighs. “I won’t lie and say I’m thrilled, but I understand him better now, and I trust my brother’s judgment. And mama’s. And yours...I want him to be in Imani’s life, but it is just hard to forget his face in that moment, you know?”

Mira nodded, “I don’t, but I do.”

“Maybe seeing him in a new light with you and Imani will help,” Shuri shrugged.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.” 

Just then, T’Challa re-entered the room, “The princess is having trouble deciding which outfit to wear.”

“That’s my queue,” Mira got up from the couch and washed off her greasy hands before strolling down the hallway to help out her little fashionista. She and T’Challa had already laid out three outfit choices, so it just came down to which one she thought her daddy would like best.

“I want to look nice to meet him, but I don’t know which one looks better.”

“Can I give a suggestion?”

“Mhm,” Imani nodded with her brows creased as she thought really hard over which outfit to pick.

“How about the gold sandals from Lala with this two-piece? Yellow looks good on you, and the sandals match your backpack. You’ll look like a little ray of sunshine.”

“Hmmm...Ok!”

“Glad I could help,” Mira chuckled.

“I’ll wear my yellow outfit if you wear your blue one just like it.”

“It’s a deal,” Mira threw over her shoulder as she left the room to go change. When she entered the living room, her cousins and Auntie all smiled at the two of them. Imani’s yellow Ankara print tube top and harem pants matched perfectly with Mira’s blue ones. The only difference was Mira had on some crisp white sneakers and big gold Fulani earrings. 

Mira walked Imani to school the same way she did every day, but this time her head was in the clouds. Even Imani was quiet on the way, the butterflies in both of their stomachs working overtime. When they reached the classroom, Imani turned to her mom, looking at her face that surprised Mira.

“What’s wrong, baby?” She crouched down to her level.

“What if daddy doesn’t like me?” she poked her lip out, and Mira knew she had to act fast before it started quivering, and the tears started falling.

“Like you? He loves you more than anything in this world!” she said excitedly while tickling Imani’s ribs and making her laugh. “He loves you just as much as I do, baby girl.”

“He does?”

“Of course, you’re his Cupcake.”

“Cupcake?”

“Mhm, that’s what he used to call you because you’re so sweet.” Mira pretended to gobble up Imani’s fingers, making her giggles chase away any doubts she had about her father. “Now, you  ready for school?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said excitedly.

“Alright, I’ll see you at 2. Be good.” Mira kissed Imani’s cheek and stood back up to her full height.

“I will, mommy. Sala kakuhle!” she waved goodbye and ran to go play with her friends while Mira sent the teacher a smile before heading back to the palace. 

When Mira was nervous, she liked to busy her hands with something, so she took some time to anxiously clean and organize her already clean quarters. She would have to sit in on another council meeting shortly, and although she wasn’t looking forward to having all that attention on her again, she was determined to go in there with her head held high.

Just as she started scrubbing the sink, her alarm went off telling her it was time for the meeting. She washed her hands and squeezed lemon juice on them to get rid of the bleach smell before leaving her quarters and traveling to the business side of the palace. When Mira entered the throne room, she slid into the empty seat between Ramonda and Shuri just as T’Challa started speaking.

“As you all know, Erik will be discharged from Ithemba Center today at noon, and we have the press conference scheduled at five. He has already been briefed on it, and while he is still apprehensive about addressing the nation, I have worked with him over the last week and it seems as though he will be fine. Any questions regarding the press conference?” The council members shook their heads and T’Challa continued, “Now, I have spoken to each of you about his community service, and have finally decided on the order. I would like him to start with the Jabari as a member of their fire and rescue team, then transfer to mining vibranium before moving to border patrols. Then he will work at the River tribe’s animal sanctuary, and he’ll end his service by working as janitorial staff in the market. The order is subject to change if necessary.”

“My king, are we sure we can trust him in the Mining and Border provinces?” Tendayi, the River tribe elder spoke out, making Dama and W’Dani nod along.

“Yes, I have faith in him. Any other questions?”

Mira tentatively raised her hand, not sure if she was allowed to talk or not. T’Challa nodded her way, and she cleared her throat before speaking, “I was wondering if we could move with him? He’s been away from Imani so long and once he comes back, I don’t want to disrupt her life any more than it’s already been disrupted.”

“That is understandable. Housing for the three of you will be provided in each province.”

“Thank you,” she turned to the elders, “and I don’t want to be a freeloader, so if there’s anywhere I can help out just let me know.”

“Mira, of course you and Imani are welcome to stay with us, but if you really want something to do we can find a job for you, too.” Ife stated as the other council members nodded along in agreement. 

“I’d like that. I need something to do,” she chuckled. “Thank you.”

“We will work something out,” Dama winked her way.

“We will miss the two of you around the palace, but I think that is a great idea. You will be provided with transportation to get Imani to school.”

“Thank you,” Mira smiled.

“You are welcome. Now, is there anything else?” T’Challa was met with silence as he checked the time on his beads and looked back at Mira. “Good, it is about time we go bring him home.”

Mira’s heart thumped in her chest as she nodded.

“Meeting adjourned.”

The council members filed out of the room, sending well-wishes to Mira as they went. 

--------

Erik happily signed his discharge paperwork, but his internal celebration was cut short by a knock at his door. He half expected it to be Mira, but he looked up and saw Naomi in his doorway. 

“How are you feeling today?”

“Excited and nervous.”

“I bet,” she chuckled. “Remember what we talked about, and you will be fine.”

Erik nodded and took a deep breath.

“Ready to go? I will walk you out.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Erik took a deep breath and they walked through the facility in silence before they reached the lobby. There stood T’Challa and Mira with huge smiles on their faces that infected Erik as soon as he saw them. Mira pulled him into a hug and held him tight as she rocked him from side to side.

“I’m so proud of you, Erik.”

“As am I, cousin.”

Mira let Erik go and he dapped T’Challa up, pulling him into a hug next.

“Thanks. Both of you...I couldn’t have done all this without you.”

Mira wiped a stray tear from her eye and looped her arm around his. “Let’s go home.”

“Home, huh? I like the sound of that,” he mused.

The three of them made their way back to the palace where they were greeted by a tearful Ramonda and a still apprehensive Shuri. She sent him a small smile, though, and that was enough for him. The family sat around the kitchen table talking and laughing as if it had always been that way, and Erik found their familiarity to be a comfort he hadn’t felt in a long time. Ramonda constantly pushed food in Erik’s direction, and even though he had a late breakfast he just couldn’t say no. He stuffed his face full of eggah and freshly squeezed mango juice until he had his fill and sat back in his chair with his hands resting on his full stomach.

“I’m ready for a nap. Where am I staying?”

“This week you will be in the palace, as well as during your time working for the Merchant tribe-”

“You’re gonna hate it…” Mira sang under her breath with a wry laugh, making T’Challa smirk.

“But, other than that, you will be staying with the various tribes during your volunteer time.”

“What exactly am I supposed to be doing?” he sent a suspicious look Mira’s way.

“We can discuss that later. For now, let us get you settled in.”

Erik nodded and followed behind Mira and T’Challa as they walked through the winding palace hallways. They took him to his living quarters, and he was pleasantly surprised to see that he would still be living with Mira and Imani.

“I didn’t know if you’d want me with you or not.”

“Oh, you’re sleeping in the guest room...but I wanted you close for Imani.”

“Fair enough,” Erik nodded and walked around the space, checking it out.

“I will leave you two alone to get settled in,” T’Challa turned and left the space.

Mira looked at her beads. “You might want to go ahead and get ready, we’ll be leaving in thirty minutes.

“Leaving?”

“Mhm, we have to pick up Imani from school.”

“W-we do?”

“Yeah...are you ok?”

“Nah. What if she doesn’t like me?”

Mira bursted out laughing and caught him off-guard. “She asked me the same thing this morning.”

Erik just smiled and shook his head. He had nothing to worry about.

“Just like her daddy, huh?”

“Just like him,” she smiled back.

“I guess I should get ready, then. I want to make a good first impression.”

“Erik, you’ll be fine…I promise. She already loves you.”

He stood and kissed her forehead before turning and walking towards the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head. Mira tried to avert her eyes, but his rippling back muscles called to her. Her face felt hot, and she bolted out of the room, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered he made her.

He did.

A little while later, Erik emerged from the bathroom very well moisturized and followed by a cloud of steam. He stood there for a few minutes in his towel, staring at the clothes in his huge closet, not knowing what to put on his body.

“Mira!” he called to her in the other room. She playfully rolled her eyes and headed his way, already knowing what he wanted. Like father, like daughter.

“You rang?” she stood in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest, trying like hell to keep her eyes above his collarbone. 

“I don’t know what to wear.”

“Wakandan or American?”

“Uh, American, I guess.”

“Do you want to match Imani?”

His face lit up, and she took it for a yes, pulling out a pastel yellow t-shirt and a pair of jeans with matching sneakers. 

“This outfit with gold accessories.”

“Thanks,” he grinned at her, and Mira tried not to get lost in his dimples. She was failing miserably, so she left him to his own devices. She missed the satisfied smirk on his face.

--------

Erik could feel the eyes on him as he walked through the city with Mira and T’Challa. Some were cold, but most were simply confused by his presence. 

“Ignore them,” Mira whispered up to him, and he nodded, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t going to let anything ruin this moment. 

They arrived at the elementary school and Mira went in to get Imani while the two men waited outside. As soon as Imani saw her mother, she jumped down and ran over to her.

“Hey baby girl, how was your day?”

“Good! I made a new friend,” she said proudly.

“You did? I’ll have to meet them sometime soon. Right now we have to go see daddy,” Mira’s eyes flashed with mischief and Imani’s joy radiated throughout the room. “Ready?”

Imani was so happy she could barely speak, so she just nodded her head. Mira waved goodbye to the teacher, and the two of them traveled back down the hallway hand in hand.

Erik’s fingers tapped his thigh in rapid succession and he chewed on his bottom lip.

“I can hear you overthinking, cousin.”

Erik started pacing back and forth and was about to open his mouth to say something when the doors to the school swished open. T’Challa held his hand up and started recording with his beads.

“Daddy!” Imani saw Erik and dropped her backpack as she ran to him. For a moment, he was frozen in time, but as she got closer he snapped out of it and crouched down for her to run into his arms.

“Hey, Cupcake,” his voice cracked as he held her tight. Her little arms wrapped around his neck like she never wanted to let him go, and he couldn’t help the tears that streamed from his eyes. Mira and T’Challa tried their best to hold it together, but neither could blink the tears away.

“What’s wrong?” Imani heard him sniffle and pulled back to look at his face.

“Nothing, baby, I’m just happy to see you.” He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to Bast to thank her for letting him live another day to see his daughter once more.

The four of them walked back to the palace with Imani talking Erik’s ear off the whole way as he carried her on his hip. The first thing she did when they got there was to show him her dolls, all of which were fully decked out in the most beautiful doll-sized finery T’Challa could get his hands on. Erik took in the sparkly purple walls and the finger paints by an easel in the corner of the room. Her canopy bed was the main attraction, though, and made her feel the princess she was.

“Damn, T did all this?” Erik asked as Mira entered the room behind him.

“Yep,” she laughed. “He’d do anything for that little girl.”

“Remind me to thank him later…” he trailed off as his eyes caught sight of an enormous, stuffed jaguar by the window seat. A goofy smile took over his face, and Mira couldn’t help but swoon. Over the past few weeks of her getting to see Erik at Ithemba, she could tell his spirit was lighter. However, it wasn’t until the three of them were sitting in Imani’s room playing with her dolls that she thought Erik actually looked happy. And not just happy, but happier than she had ever seen him. His smiles actually reached his eyes for the first time since before he left for Wakanda, and she loved to watch the two of them interact with each other. Erik was a gentle giant when it came to his baby girl, and all his fierceness flew out the window when Imani started popping butterfly clips in his locs. 

Erik noticed Mira was lost in her thoughts, so he reached over and grabbed her hand. He squeezed it and looked into her eyes, once again conveying his soul with a single look. 

He was home for good this time. Next Chapter

Taglist: @ladymac82​, @kitesatforestp​, @harleycativy​, @raysunshine78​, @maddeningmayhem​, @theblulife​, @motheroffae​, @love-mesome-me​, @toni9​

[buckysbabygorl]

By Her Side (Peter Parker Fanfic)

Authors Note: This was made by request of @lunarunreal I hope I you enjoy the fic; and I intend no offense if I misrepresented the situation. I wish you the best on your journey; stay strong ❤️

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warnings: mention of hospital, cancer, chemo therapy symptoms, angst, hospitals

Summary: Y/N is undergoing treatment for cancer. While struggling to persevere, Peter stays by her side and encourages her. This was made by request of @lunarunreal​ I hope I you enjoy the fic; and I intend no offense if I misrepresented the situation. I wish you the best on your journey; stay strong ❤️ thank you to @babyblue-07​ for the creative help! Check out her page @babybluereads​ for fic recommendations! https://buckysbabygorl.tumblr.com/post/642078062396227584/hi-i-have-lymphoma-and-have-been-receiving

Word Count: 2,078

Today, just really, really fucking sucked.

Y/N laid in her bed, waiting for everyone to come back. Her parents had stepped out to the cafeteria with May; they’d missed lunch on account of the procedure, they wanted to make sure Y/N was feeling alright before they did anything else.

“I’m fine,” she said, “Go get something. I’ll be good for a bit.”

Hesitantly, they’d parted.

Her parents had been hovering, which she’d appreciated but sometimes it was all a little too much. Too overwhelming.

She didn’t know what she wanted anymore; when she had been diagnosed… it hadn’t been easy. Obviously.

It was tough on her mind, tough on her body. She was tired all of the time, she felt sick, she felt pain…

She didn’t know if having everyone around made her feel better or worse sometimes.

So right now she needed a second alone, just a moment to think.

A knock came on her door, and she looked up from her book.

“Hey,” she said, a soft smile on her lips.

Peter stood in the doorway, knuckle still pressed to the trim of the door frame. A half smile reflected hers, and he shuffled in.

“Hey, how’d it go?”

She sighed, “Fine, well as could be expected.”

He nodded, pulling the visitor’s chair up beside her bed, getting comfy as if it were his own home. That’s one of the things Y/N loved about Peter; he always felt like home.

They had always been close, growing up in the same apartment building for years, going to the same school. When Y/N’s parents were out and May and Ben used to babysit; and when the roles were reversed, of course her family would provide the same courtesy to Peter. After a while it was like they were family, and the two quickly became inseparable. They did everything together, and they were there through everything too. When Ben passed away, Y/N and her family made sure the Parker’s felt cared for and supported. And when Y/N was diagnosed, there was no doubt that the Parkers would be right there beside her. Especially Peter.

He was her best friend; he was her rock.

Yes she wanted to be alone; but the only exception for that was him.

Peter didn’t feel like another expectation to meet; another task to fulfill; one more thing she had to worry about… no.

Peter was easy; he was comfortable. Safety, home…

Sick… very sick.

“Oh shit,” She muttered, covering her mouth. Peter reacted immediately, grabbing the waste basket from beside the bed as she lurched forward. He caught her throw up just in time, and as she continued to retch into the bin he rubbed small circles on her back. He wanted to do more; but this was all he could manage. Reassurance, and being there when she needed it.

Puking or otherwise.

She sat back slowly, the action taking more energy out of her than she thought it would. He wiped a few stray hairs from her forehead, matted with sweat. He ran his thumb underneath her eye; she looked tired.

He wanted to make it go away; make it easier if he could. But he settled for caresses and smiles, it seemed to make her happier.

“Pete, can you grab the nurse for me?”

“Yeah of course.”

His hand dropped as he quickly scurried out; he waved down a nurse in the hall and smiled sadly as she stepped in. The door closed behind her, and Peter found himself leaning back against it. A long sigh escaping his lips; he surprised himself when he nearly found himself crying.

God, get a grip.

Nothing had happened but it felt like everything. He was frustrated; he hated that they couldn’t sit at the Thai restaurant like they used to, they didn’t beg the librarian to keep the place open for just a little bit longer. He wanted her to be healthy and happy; he wanted his Y/N back.

This thought almost made him cry more; she still was his Y/N, she was still her in every way. That beautiful, bright and strong woman he’d grown up with. He just knew this was hard for her, of course it was. And even though she was still that incredible woman; he knew she was losing hope.

He ran his hands through his hair, glancing around the hallway for an empty chair to wait in.

Alright, you know the side effects are hard. But she’s okay, she’ll be okay. Just let her rest, give her some space.

He plopped himself in his chair as a voice called for him.

“Hey kid.”

Peter turned his head to see Happy coming in his direction; snapping shut a flip cell phone.

Most people carried around normal phones, but Happy insisted on the dated technology for personal life calls and whatnot. Then again, expecting Happy to do something normal wasn’t really rational.

“Happy, what are you doing here?”

“I was around; wanted to stop by and check in.”

He nodded towards the closed door of Y/N’s designated room; “How’s she doing?”

Peter huffed, shaking his head.

“Today’s not really a good day; I think she just needs some rest.”

Happy nodded; it was to be expected. Not every day went by smoothly, but they had to take these bumps in the road to get Y/N back to the right place.

He didn’t really know what to say; he wasn’t always the best at reassurance. When it came to superheroes saving the world; sure. He could give them a quick jab, a motivating speech, get Tony’s or Peter’s head screwed on tight and send them back to the battlefield. But this wasn’t that; this was a scared kid with his best friend, and an uncertain future.

“Well, let me know if you need anything. I’m going to do everything I can to help; I’m here for you both.”

“Thank you, Happy”

He knew that something else was weighing on Peter; it was the drop in his shoulders, the tense biting of his inner cheek. Eyes somewhere else; yet nowhere.

May and Happy talked, of course. They’d been dating for quite sometime now; he had become her confidant and she, his. Happy knew how the kid felt for Y/N, they all did. It was no secret how they teased one another; how they kept to themselves; how they made sure to put time in their lives for one another.

May was worried; Peter had been wanting to say something for such a long time, she knew it. But now… she didn’t think he ever would.

“He probably thinks it’s selfish, knowing him. He never wants to…” she said to Happy, rubbing her hands nervously, “He never wants to be a burden.”

He wasn’t, of course. No one saw him that way; and Happy knew Y/N of all people would never think that.

He’d come to like the young girl; seeing her around the Parker apartment many times. She was an absolute delight; he couldn’t find a flaw in her. Maybe the need for independence; that fear Peter and her both shared, never wanting to be selfish, always thinking of someone else first.

But they both needed to be happy; and loving each other openly could be a step to that.

“And kid?”

Peter looked to him, waiting as Happy chose his words carefully.

“Don’t be afraid to tell her how you feel.”

Peter shook his head, “It’s not the right time Happy...”

“I know. But, someday it will be. You guys don’t have to start now, but when you feel ready and it feels right, don't hesitate kid.”

The nurse interrupted them, smiling as she waved to the young boy. “You can come in, she’s feeling better.”

He nodded, standing up beside Happy.

The older man nodded once more to the door, “You go ahead. I’ll wait for May.”

“Thanks Happy.”

Happy looked down at Peter, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “Anytime kid. I mean it.”

He smiled back at him, before slipping back into her room.

As he came in; he noticed how she wouldn’t look at him. The young girl looked to her lap, feeling the tears building.

“Y/N--what’s wrong?”

She looked up, choking back a sob. He saw it in her face; the anger, the sadness, the fatigue. Today just really fucking sucked.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she said, “I fucking hate it. I wanna go home.”

As she breathed out an exhausted cry, he rushed to her side. He pulled her into him; gentle but strong. She sobbed into his shoulder, as he mumbled reassurances into her ear.

“I’ve got you, it’s alright. Let it out…”

“I’m scared Peter; this is so hard—”

“Hey, hey. I know Y/N... I-I know it’s not easy. But you’re going to get through this. You’re the toughest person I know. And…”

He pulled away to look at her; he needed to see her when he spoke. He wanted to speak from his heart; for once he wasn’t scared to do so. As he stared into those beautiful eyes he’d found many moments of comfort in, the face he’d fallen so deeply in love with; he felt his mind begin to race. He wasn’t sure if what came next would make sense. But it would have to do.

“...Your life matters. Sometimes the things that matter most are... the hardest things we have to go through. So, for some reason you got dealt this. It’s not fair; but the fight is still worth it.”

As a tear rolled down his cheek, she reached up to wipe it away. He cupped her hand against his face as he looked into her eyes.

“Think about everything before this; think about all the memories we’ve had. Your family, everyone at school, every place you’ve been, every picture you’ve taken, every book you’ve read, every smile you’ve given—” He felt crazy; what was the point? What was he trying to say?

“All of those moments you’ve made, that you’ve had are beautiful. You’re so beautiful--so, so beautiful… there’s going to be so much more that you have to fight towards. I’m so proud of you for what you’ve done and how far you’ve come. You have to keep going; you have to keep trying. Your life means too much for you not to.”

He clutched her hands in his, holding her as if it was the only way his words would get across. Neither of them knew what would happen; but she knew she would fight, she knew that she had the love and support she needed to keep going. She knew that drive within her wouldn’t go away. Not when there was so much more for her moving forward.

“No matter what happens, I’ll be right here beside you.”

She nodded, she felt it. She felt his honesty; she knew his promise wasn’t only words. It was a bond; it was love… Tired, so tired…

He smiled sweetly, stopping himself from chuckling at her drowsiness. “Getting tired?”

“Mhm.” She mumbled.

He saddled up beside her, pulling her to him gently in the bed. They might get in trouble; but he didn’t really care. He wanted to be close to her; and she certainly was not opposed.

“TV on? He asked.

“Yeah,” she muttered, “Something stupid...”

As he grabbed the remote, clicking on the TV, he could’ve sworn a soft kiss was placed on his shoulder. His heart fluttered, but he let the moment pass as he sifted through the channels. Maybe it wouldn’t be today; or tomorrow. But someday, they wouldn’t be here. They’d be in each other's arms in another place, holding each other with sweet “I love you’s” breaking the silence. But tonight; she would fall asleep in his arms to the laugh track of a show neither of them could name; love unspoken, but prominent and indefinite. No matter what; he would be there. Always by her side.

~

Taglist: - @babyblue-07 @pinkdiamond1016 @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @lonewolf471 @babybluereads @marianas-studyblr @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @annestine @shower-me-with-roses

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 17 || The Absence of Fear

Words: 3000+

Warnings: None.

Previous || Next

~17~

Patricia had taken Iris out for groceries after the night she had spent sleeping beside her, stating that she did not care how small Iris was, she needed to eat more in order to be healthy. So, with a fully stocked kitchen and fridge, Iris had parted ways with Patricia after delaying the older woman with a long hug in the doorway of her apartment. Patricia didn’t seem to mind, and had just stroked Iris’s hair as she assured her that they would see one another soon.

Iris knew that she couldn’t be selfish—she couldn’t hold onto her soulmates all hours of the day because they had lives, too. She truly wished that she could; she wished that she never had to let them go.

However, she now had the thought that she could be with them much more; she had, after all, agreed to Patricia’s invitation about having a room made up for her. For her to think about such a drastic change in her life left her feeling old ghosts of panic, but it passed easily as she reminded herself of the comfort and security that came with having her soulmates nearby.

They had talked about it in more depth and Patricia made sure that she was fully aware they were not asking her to leave her apartment. They had no desire to rush her from her home, and only desired to offer her a safe place to sleep on nights when she felt her home wasn’t as safe as it used to be. She wasn’t sure when any of that may actually take place, since Patricia confessed that they had decided on it while she was sleeping, but knowing that it was a possibility in the near future was all she needed.

Standing in her kitchen as she finished the dinner she had picked out with Patricia, her plate scraped clean of any food, Iris looked at her laptop she had placed on the counter in order to read. She rarely used her laptop, not really liking the headaches that came from reading on the screen too much, but this seemed like a good time to bring it out.

On the first tab, information about apartments coming up for rent in her price-range, some saved or bookmarked to come back to at a later date, and the other tab held an article that Fletcher had released on Dissociative Identity Disorder. She knew that the soulmates she had met wouldn’t mind answering what questions she may have, but there were some things that she wanted to know going into a living situation.

Putting her dishes in the sink, filled a few inches with hot, soapy water, Iris picked up her laptop and half-filled mug of tea to take back to her bed and sit down. Crossing her legs and placing the computer in front of her, mug of tea in close reach on the nightstand, Iris returned her focus to the article.

This particular one was written only on the person with D.I.D., lacking anything to do with soulmates, and that was just what Iris was looking for. There wasn’t much information on soulmates of those with D.I.D. to begin with, so she didn’t concern herself too much with it and instead focused on studying the condition itself. She had tried to read other articles she had found, but they never seemed to portray the ‘subjects’ as people. Fletcher spoke of them as humans, and revealed that each identity was in fact their own person.

It wasn’t just someone hearing voices or showing signs of extreme bi-polar disorder; they were truly their own person, unique and different even if they all lived in one body.

Iris fully believed it, and not only because of the evidence provided by her soulmarks. It reminded her of the way each of her soulmates carried a different smell. Patricia had been wearing Barry’s clothes when she came to her, yet she smelled nothing like Barry except for the ghost of cologne that still clung to that material.

One of the things that irritated her with the other readings was also how they brought up treatments, explaining that the alters could be ‘cured’. They didn’t believe that alters were as real as the original identity and were all a part of a mental psychosis. That fact alone had her immediately abandoning those types of articles, always finding her way back to Fletcher’s work instead.

It was disappointing to know that there were so few people who supported Fletcher and her side of the research; from what Iris was reading, she had incredible evidence on her side. Yet she was forgotten in favour of others were went on about how these people could be ‘cured’ because they were sick. Knowing that Kevin had been through something terrible when he was younger, the exact reason that the alters existed, made Iris loathe those who said they were sick.

Kevin wasn’t sick, he was abused and afraid. She knew that feeling; she knew the desire to have something or someone there to protect you from the pain that was happening. The alters saved him, and they continue to protect him every day. You cannot cure fear. You cannot cure memories. You cannot cure a person from within a person. That would be like saying Barry, Luke, BT and Patricia were diseases.

Slamming her laptop closed and pushing it away from herself, Iris released a huff of frustration as she glared at the tiny computer. How dare they? How dare they think that they could ever understand what had happened to those who were abused, those who did all they could to protect themselves.

If anything, the people in the world with D.I.D were better than those without; their minds had done something that no one else thought possible in the past. They had literally become more in order to survive the circumstances which had created them.

“They don’t understand,” she muttered to herself, looking down at her arms to take in the visible marks along her forearms and hand. “They didn’t live through what we did.”

Clenching her marked hand into a fist, she pushed aside the irritation and anger that bubbled inside her chest in favour of focusing on those who she had met so far. There were still so many others there for Kevin—and for her, she was beginning to realize—that it warmed her heart. She wanted to know them all. She wanted to thank them all.

If the alters had not become who they were, there was a likely possibility that Kevin would not have survived to meet her.

For any of them to meet her.

Perhaps…she could help Dr. Fletcher.

These days, soulmarks made everything legitimate. If she were to let Fletcher use her and Kevin—with all twenty-three of his alters—as an example that would prove they were real, that the other identities really existed, maybe they could help others to open their eyes. It would be the most terrifying thing she would ever do, exposing herself to the world in such a manner, but it might just be the way of saving others like her and Kevin in the future.

Sighing as she leaned back into her pillows, head coming to rest on the headboard of her bed, Iris closed her eyes.

It wasn’t going to be an easy decision—she barely came up with the courage to talk with the older woman in the first place. Voluntarily putting herself into view of all those who hate someone like her?

Suddenly, her parents didn’t scare her quite as much.

What would the other people in the world think? She and her soulmates would be hated, hunted and possibly attacked for what they were; for being different. Because the world couldn’t stand those who were different—they didn’t understand them, they feared them, and wanted to remove that which caused so much confusion in their perfect lives.

Collecting her laptop from the bed and placing it safely back in her case, Iris then perched on the end of her bed as she tried to relieve herself of the anxiety building up in her chest. She never thought the day would come that she would be debating on exposing herself so openly to the public.

The ways meeting a soulmate—or soulmates—changed her never really seemed to end.

That was the excuse she used when she found herself standing outside of Karen Fletcher’s office the next day, tugging nervously on the sleeves of her winter jacket as her heart raced in her chest nervously. The older woman was understandably surprised when Iris asked if she could come and see her; stating that she wanted to help in any way she could to bring awareness to those with Dissociative Identity Disorder.

She was left to wait as Dr. Fletcher finished with her previous appointment; such was the curse of always showing up early to things.

The waiting gave her time to regret her decision, but she forced herself to remain where she was and do as she had placed her mind. Strong and sure. That is what her soulmates were making her become, someone who was strong and sure.

The door to Dr. Fletcher’s office opened and Iris respectfully kept her eyes on the window as she listened to the person quietly tell the doctor farewell. Soft heels tapped slowly down the stairs as the other client left, prompting Iris to look over her shoulder to where Fletcher was waiting with a faint smile on her lips. “Come in, Iris.”

Bowing her head in thanks, Iris slipped passed Fletcher and entered the familiar office while she slowly undid the buttons of her coat. “I…I wanted to apologize for how I ran out on you, Doctor. I just-”

“Oh, dear, there’s absolutely no reason for you to apologize to me!” Fletcher rushed to dismiss Iris’s concerns, waving her hands as she moved over to take the chair that she had occupied the last time Iris was there.

Draping her coat over the back of her chair, Iris ignored the glance she received from Fletcher when she exposed herself more than she had the previous visit. Her arms were still covered by longer sleeves, but she had removed the thick, protective barrier of her jacket. Settling into the chair with a faint sigh, Iris couldn’t quite bring herself to relax as she repeated “this is for them” over and over in her head. She was doing this for her soulmates; they were the ones who were thought to not exist.

“I want the world to know they’re real,” she began right away, lacing her fingers above her lap as she met Fletcher’s surprised gaze. “The alters; I want people to stop thinking that they can be ‘cured’ and removed from existence. I want to help people realize that the identities created are real people, just with a shared body.”

Fletcher’s aged face softened with a smile as she lifted a hand to press her fingertips against her lips. “I see that they have changed you, Iris.” Her comment made the younger woman blush, looking away. They had, it was clear to see, even if she hadn’t spoken a single word. “If you don’t mind me asking, how many have you met?”

“Four,” Iris answered. Fletcher knew how many alters there were in Kevin’s body, so she would also be aware of the number of soulmates that Iris had. “Barry, Luke, BT and Patricia.”

Fletcher’s eyebrows went up in surprise, sitting forward in her chair suddenly. “Patricia? How was that meeting? I understand that many people become…unsettled when it comes to meeting a woman in a man’s body.”

A small frown pinched Iris’s expression, but it faded quickly as she thought back to when she had woken up to Patricia at her door. “I was having a nightmare and the others could feel it—the more soulmates I meet, the stronger an emotional connection we have—and Patricia came over and woke me up when she knocked on the door. Having her there was very…comforting. I didn’t have any trouble with the fact that she was an alter in Kevin’s body.”

Fletcher’s smile returned, nodding her head gratefully. Iris truly was perfect as their soulmate.

“Are you sure you’re ready to help them? To do what must be done to help people understand?”

Iris bowed her head a moment, falling silent as she, yet again, considered the other woman’s questions. They were the same ones that she had been asking herself.

“I’ve spent so long being scared; looking over my shoulder and fearing every shadow. I don’t want to do this forever. And…reading up on Dissociative Identity Disorder showed me that they really don’t think that these alters are…real. They think that with therapy and pills they’ll just disappear and I hate the thought of that. But these soulmarks are one thing that they consider…strong. They indicate that these alters are real people.”

Fletcher relaxed back into her seat as she smiled softly at the young woman before her. “Look at you, Iris. You’ve changed.”

I know.

Seeing her begin to fidget, Fletcher was quick to stray from that particular direction of conversation. “If you decide to do this, is can be completely anonymous; no identifying information will be given out. Perhaps if you and the others sign over consent for other professionals to study your situation, but that is entirely up to you.”

“I haven’t spoken to the others about any of this, so I can’t give you an answer for them. However, if you can promise me that it will be anonymous, then I’ll do it.” She closed her eyes as soon as the words left her mouth, forcing herself not to go back on them now.

She was not afraid. She would not hide. This was the decision she had made, on her own and with her own reasons.

“I’m very proud of you, Iris,” Fletcher confessed as she smiled at the younger woman again. Her expression provided the truth to her words; she looked at Iris like a grandmother would, basking in the accomplishments of her family. “And you should be proud of yourself.”

“I am,” she admitted bashfully. “Terrified, but proud.”

Fletcher shuffled toward the edge of her seat, moving closer to Iris as she continued to smile softly. “Talk to them about this, I’m sure they will be happy to support you if this is truly what you want. They’ve been trying to find a way to prove that they are real for a long time. One of the most upsetting things for them is to hear that people don’t think they are alive—real people that can feel emotional pain from the words of others.”

Iris’s face pinched in pain, sorrowed to know that her soulmates were being hurt.

“Is there anything else you would like to speak about while you’re here?” Fletcher prompted gently.

However, as much as Iris had improved since meeting her soulmates, the prompt still had her immediately coiling in on herself like taut spring. “No, that’s alright. Maybe…in time, but not yet.”

Holding up a hand to stall the woman’s hesitant stumbled, Fletcher shook her head. “That’s perfectly fine, dear. I’m not here to push or force. Just know that if there is ever someone you need to talk to, and you don’t want to say it to your soulmates, I will happily lend an ear. Whether you want my opinion or not is up to you. If you just want to talk and let something off your chest, I am here.”

Letting out a long, slow exhale, Iris offered a shaky smile and nodded her head.

Rising to her feet, Iris made up her mind. “I’ll talk to the others first, but I’m sure you’ll be seeing me again soon,” she explained calmly, quietly, as she collected her coat back over her arm and turned to face Fletcher with a soft look in his whiskey eyes.

That look alone told Fletcher that things were changing, and they were for the better. This young woman, as fragile and broken as she was, had a strength inside of her that was necessary for the soulmate for twenty-three separate identities. It was a hidden, buried strength, but it was there all the same. The more time that passed after having met and reconciled with Barry, the more visible that strength became. “I hope to see you again soon, dear. Say hello to the others for me?”

Nodding her head with a peaceful smile, much better than the tense one that had been growing as they spoke, Iris turned for the door. “I will, Dr. Fletcher. Have a good day.”

Once Iris had departed, the older woman leaned back in her chair with a soft and thoughtful hum. If the others supported Iris and they were able to use the soulmarks shared between the two bodies, there was a possibility that favour could finally be tipped in their direction. However, that did not mean that it would not be a struggle for them—especially for Iris. As much as Fletcher thrilled at the thought of solid proof, finally, that others would struggle to argue…she did not want to damage the small woman further.

Proud as she was that Iris was refusing to let her fear rule her, Fletcher was deeply concerned that the fear is also what had kept her safe for so long. Even with her soulmates there, Iris would be in danger of a dark change in her life.

Glancing over to the chair that the young woman had vacated, she could only hope that this would not turn out to be a terrible mistake. As much as she wished to reveal to the world the truth behind all of her years of research, she did not want to do so at the expense of Iris’s happiness and safety, and that of her soulmates.

Previous || Next

[nctsjiho]

Heart-to-Heart

warnings: mentions of the pandemic and about mental health, but we don’t go deep into the topic (I hope you are pulling through loves🤍💚🤍 Stay healthy!)

❀  JiHo opens up about her past and how she’s currently feeling

JiHo waits a few seconds for the comments to roll in to make sure she’s live before bringing her hand up and waving at the camera. She looks a lot more tired than normal, but that could be because it was currently 3 in the morning.

It looks like she’s sitting on a couch or maybe even her bed with her knees close to her sweater clad chest. The hood of the sweater hiding her hair and ears with the strings tied tightly at the neckline.

“Why are you awake this early?” She hums after reading the question. A smile starting to form on her lips before she answers. “I’ve been up all night playing games with Haechan, Chenle and Jeno.” She chuckles.

“Everyone. My hair has become so long.” JiHo starts to undo the strings of her hoodie and uncovers her head. Her hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail, which she also undoes to show her hair longer than it had ever been (during her time in NCT at least). The strands of hair fall to her chest and she cards her hands trough it. “I would usually cut it by now, but I’m too lazy to go to the salon.” She sheepishly grins. “And I’m actually starting to like it a little, what do you guys think?”

It’s been a while since the fans had seen JiHo’s hair like this. Messy with her natural curls much more visible. “I love your hair unnie!” JiHo laughs at the comment before thanking the fan. “I like your short hair, but the long hair is also really pretty.”

“Did you celebrate Ten’s birthday?” She reads out. “There’s a lot of birthdays in February so I tried to do something for every birthday boy. I’ve already wished Ten a happy birthday and gave him his gift, but this year I could only really celebrate with the boys who I live with.” She nods to herself, hoping the fans would understand.

While reading comments on her phone a creaking noise could be heard, JiHo’s gaze moving to her side. “Is there something?” She asks, followed by footsteps that become gradually louder. “I saw the light from the hallway so I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall asleep with the lights on.” It was Taeyong’s voice. The girl nods and then looks at the screen in front of her. Taeyong moves into frame while asking if she was live on V App. “Yes, I was playing with the dreamies earlier and then wanted to go live for a little.” She explains and the leader hums in reply. “Don’t stay up too late okay? Bye everyone.” Taeyong leaves, but not before patting JiHo on the shoulder, somewhat using the girl’s shoulder as leverage to help him stand up.

“How are you today?” An English comment catches JiHo’s eye and she reads it out loud. A deep sigh leaves her lips and she looks back into the camera. “It’s not that I’m feeling bad, I’m just really tired lately. I got sick before our gimme gimme comeback because I was so exhausted. But don’t worry I’m better now. I just think the situation we’re in right now with the pandemic is taking a toll on my body and mental health. Luckily I have NCT with me and they all try to help each other feel better.” A genuine smile covers the slight frown she sported while talking. “I’m not an expert and I’m pretty bad at giving advice, but if you’re feeling down please reach out to someone. They might not be able to help much either, but just talking about how you feel is so much better than keeping everything to yourself. I also hope that NCT can be a light in your day whenever you feel down. We still have a lot of content going out on YouTube and our music is always there for you to listen to.”

The live stream had really taken a turn. With JiHo reading out a lot of comments and sympathising with the fans, every now and than trying to lighten the mood by cracking a dumb joke. The jokes were never funny, but JiHo was slowly getting sleep-drunk and everything started to seem funny to her. Despite that she couldn’t change the overall mood of the V Live, with comments still as sombre as before.

“I live with my roommates but I still feel lonely, sometimes I just miss my family.” As she reads the comment, something in JiHo’s eyes changes. Her soft expression falls into almost a frown, the word ‘family’ coming out as only a whisper. It’s quiet for the next minute or so, the fans clearly picking up on something as comments flood in about her family or asking if everything was alright.

It’s clear that the girl is trying to hide her true feelings as she forces a smile back on her face.”Don’t worry everyone, I’m fine.” She laughs softly. “I’ve never talked about my family right?” JiHo can’t even keep her eyes on the camera. “I don’t really talk to them a lot.” She realises how people could misinterpret the meaning behind those words and shoots up in her seat. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not on bad terms with my family. I’m just not really close to them either.”

“I moved to Korea on my own when I was almost 14, I spent that birthday here with some of the trainees I used to live with.” She smiles at the fond memory and the fans in the comments seem to be more at ease after seeing her smile so genuinely. “Before that I used to live with my grandparents for most of my life. So I’m closest to them, and I call them at least once a month. It used to be a lot more but now I usually just message them.”

“I have a lot of friends in France though and we video chat a lot.” She laughs and tells a story about a late night video call session where they played Jack Box together. “I do miss them a lot, so I hope I get to see them in real life after the pandemic is over.”

“What about your parents? My parents? It’s a bit complicated.” She takes a deep breath before speaking again. “I lived with them for 4 years before my mother got really sick. She needed special treatment, and my dad got a big job opportunity. The moved together because she’d be closer to a hospital where they could help her even better. That’s when i moved in with my grandparents and I could stay close to my friends and the rest of my family.”

“When I was 11, my mother was healthy again and so we all moved back in together close to my grandparent’s home. It was a little awkward at first.” JiHo brings her hand up to scratch her scalp, her head drooping down for a second. “I only lived with them for 2 more years before I got scouted, so we didn’t get really close again. But they were always so supportive of me, so they still feel like my real parents.”

“They even host parties every now and then to celebrate new albums or milestones NCT achieves, and then they’ll send me pictures and tell me that they are proud of me.” The fans who were all listening intently had resorted to spamming the comments with hearts and an occasional ‘aww’. “I sometimes think that if I didn’t get scouted I’d be really close to my parents now and I’d have such an amazing childhood. Not that I haven’t had a great childhood already.”

That last comment had just left her mouth without much thought and people started to fill the comments with questions again. “Don’t say that, otherwise NCT wouldn’t have you in it” JiHo laughs before explaining herself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I think getting scouted is the best thing that ever happened to me. NCT and Czennie are like my second family. Please forgive me.” She brings her palms together in front of her face and bows, a bright smile clearly visible. JiHo then moves her hands away from each other before twisting her fingers into 2 finger-hearts. “I love you guys.”

Though she didn’t tell the fans everything about her past and her life in France was still a big mystery, everyone seemed pleased to know more about their neo girl. JiHo, herself, even felt a bit relieved like she lifted a big weight off her shoulders by telling her about her past and how she was feeling.

She knew now that she could trust her fans with a few more personal things. What she didn’t know though, was that her roommates had also been watching her live stream and just as she was about to end the stream on a high note, 4 boys barge in her room, with the tallest and the youngest of the four launching themselves on the girl.

“Ack-” She shrieks, surprised by the sudden appearance of her roommates. “What’s going on?” “Hmm, I’m so proud of you!” Haechan had JiHo’s shoulders locked in his arms and he was squeezing her tightly. “We’re all proud of you.” Doyoung had said from behind the camera.

The girl rests her head against Johnny’s chest, acting as if she was trying to get as far as possible from her same-aged-friend who was still holding on to her. “Okay! Okay! I think we’re good now. You guys can leave.” JiHo shoos the boys away and Johnny takes the hint, ruffling the girls hair before leaving with the 2 men who weren’t trying to suffocate the youngest. “Haechan~” She whines and the boy mutters something about letting him do his thing a little longer.

She had managed to wedge her hand out his hold and started to push him by his chest and head. When she realised he wasn’t budging she just gave up, her body going limp and now she was almost leaning into his embrace. “Czennie, see what I have to live with. He only hugs me on camera, otherwise he’s only bullying me.” Haechan gasps letting the girl go. “The audacity! JiHo is a liar.” He places his hands on his chest where his heart would be and feigns being hurt. He gets a shake of JiHo’s head in response before she ends her stream by telling the fans that they should take care of themselves and their loved ones.

[official-weasley]

It's Positive (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: nothing but fluff

Word count: 3,051

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

A/N: Okay, so! I want to clear the confusion that some of you might have. Specifically, those of you who have read my TICW and know about something that happens in Part 8.

After I wrote the alternative ending my mind went crazy realizing that the story doesn't have to end now but I stuck to it anyway. I had some of you in my private messages asking me to continue the story with chapter and parts but I didn't envision it like that, sorry.

However! I did start getting one-shots ideas a few weeks back that are basically stories from their lives in the alternative ending. So because I miss Nova and that version of Charlie so so much and I can't help myself and is honestly keeping me from writing anything else I decided to create an Alternative Ending AU where I would have the liberty to write stories about different events in their lives.

This one is happening a few weeks after the Sanctuary was attacked by Death Eaters. I will try to keep the timeline as clear as possible and try not to jump up and down a lot. Keep in mind that Nova is safe and sound in the alternative universe.

There will be no stories before this point - meaning no more school days for them but everything from this point on.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Oh, it's good to have Nova back. 🥺💙

Charlie

“I can't believe we did it.” The biggest grin painted Andrei's face. “I mean, the trees are still burned, but it's better and in time for your wedding too.”

“It took quite some time but I didn't have the slightest doubt that we wouldn't restore the Reserve.” I bestowed him with a smile.

“It's never going to be the same is it?” Andrei asked after a few seconds of silence.

“No.” I shook my head slightly, the smile disappearing from my face. “Listen, Andrei, are you sure you are okay with us having the wedding here?”

“Of course! Why would I mind?” Andrei's brows furrowed. “You needed long enough to arrange everything.” He joked.

“Yeah.” I forced a laugh. “You know what I mean. The events that happened here not even 3 weeks ago are still leaving a bitter taste in a lot of people's mouths. We lost a lot of people. I don't want to rub it in everybody's faces how happy Nova and I are.”

“Charlie,” Andrei turned to me slightly, putting a hand on my shoulder, “that is exactly what everybody needs. Love brings people together and it gives them hope. You have been at the healing station and you have helped me out the most, so you know that we need something positive.”

“You sound like Felix.” My lips curved a little.

“Yeah, that won't go away anytime soon.” Andrei shook his head and looked at the ground trying to hide the fact that tears gathered in his eyes.

“Andrei, if you ever need anything... you know that Nova and I are here for you. I don't know what I would do if I lost...” I bit my lip, stopping myself from saying anything else.

Just the thought of something happening to Nova or me losing her like Andrei lost Felix, broke something in me.

“I know.” He gave out a small smile. “You two are my closest friends here and one of the few who knew about me and Felix.”

“One more reason for you to come knocking on our door when you need some company.” I pulled him into a hug despite him being my boss and us never doing that before. I knew he needed one even though he would never admit to it.

“So,” Andrei gestured for us to start walking towards the cottages, “what do you two have planned once you get married?”

“We barely planned the wedding and you are asking me that?” I chuckled.

“Are we going to see any fiery-haired little Weasleys running around?” His face beamed.

“Oh, no!” I shook my head quickly. “We're not that fast. We want to enjoy our marriage before we start working on having little Weasleys.”

“Whatever you say.” Andrei sighed, pretending to be disappointed as we stopped in front of my home.

“You'll be begging me to not make you babysit so be careful what you wish for!” I giggled.

“How is Nova feeling, by the way? Any better?”

“She has been fine for two days now but she said that she'll stay in for a couple of days more just to be sure the stomach bug is really gone,” I explained.

“That's great news. Say hi to her for me and I'll see you tomorrow, Charlie.” Andrei waved and started walking away.

“Nova?” I called her name as I stepped through the door.

I took off my shoes and listened for movement to find out in which room she was.

“Love? Are you still sleeping?” I checked the clock on our kitchen wall. It was a little past 11, there was no way she was still in bed even though she never was a morning person.

“Bath...room.” I heard her say before she flushed the toilet.

“Are you alright?” I knocked on the door and pressed my ear on it, concern in my voice.

“No.” She whispered. “It's back.” She gagged and I could hear her pushing the toilet lid back up.

“Can I come in?” I asked gently, frowning.

I was getting more concerned each day. While I was out and about helping Andrei and the others after the Sanctuary attack, Nova has been spending most of her time in our bathroom. When the Death Eaters fled, we were both sent to the healing station for a check-up despite Nova saving us both with that protection spell. They deemed us healthy with minor scratches and I feel completely fine. Nova, however...

“Yeah.”

I slowly opened the door when she granted me access. She was leaning over the toilet. One hand wrapped around her hair to hold it back, the other hand hugging the toilet.

“Nova, you have to stop being stubborn and let me take you to the healers.” I couldn't hide the firmness in my voice.

“I'm fine.” She swung her hand.

“You have been spending more time with that toilet than with me.”

“You jealous?” She tried to chuckle but pushed her head closer to the toilet again and I jumped to her to hold her hair.

“Please, love. This isn't normal. A stomach bug doesn't take this long.” I pleaded.

She kept saying that she has the stomach flu and at the beginning, I thought so too. But she didn't have any other symptoms besides vomiting every morning.

“What else could it be?” She asked weakly, after flushing yet again.

“I am no expert in these matters, that's why I am begging you to go see a healer. Our wedding is less than 14 days away. If you won't be alright by then we are canceling the whole thing!” I tried threatening her but a mocking smile gave me away.

“Less than 14 days away?” Nova didn't react to my threat at all in the way she usually does.

Usually, she rolls her eyes and lifts one of her brows, and gazes at me with her arms crossed over her chest until I tell her that I'm joking. Now, her face lost all its color and her eyes widened as if the most terrifying creature was standing behind me.

“What date is it?” She asked, panic in her voice.

“27th,” I answered, puzzled.

“Twenty...” Nova's jaw dropped before leaning over the toilet again.

“Oh, no, no, no, no!” She got up, flushing again, and exited the bathroom.

“Nova, what is going on?” I rushed after her and stopped when I saw her pacing around the coffee table in our living room, her hands in her hair.

“I think I know what's wrong with me.” She said more to herself than to me.

“Love, you can't just diagnose yourself with something,” I said calmly, trying not to irritate her as she seemed to be seconds away from a panic attack.

“No, Char, listen to me!” She entwined out fingers, brought us to the sofa, and sat us down.

“Okay, I'm listening.” I brushed a lock of hair off her face.

“I...” Before she could continue, she put her hand over her mouth, looking green again.

“Should we rather have this conversation in the bathroom?”

“I think that would be better.” She nodded and before I could help her up, she was already running.

“Okay, so what do you think you have?” I asked, brushing her hair back after she was done.

“I don't want to say.” She was biting her lip nervously, us kneeling in front of the toilet.

“Love, we have been best friends since we were 11 and we celebrated our 5th anniversary in May and you can't tell me something?” I chuckled, trying to brighten up the mood.

“May!” She gasped and her eyes widened again. “Our anniversary!”

“Nova,” I blinked at her confusingly, “you have to give me more details. What is going on? What about our anniversary?”

“Okay,” she took a deep breath and waited for a second just to see if she will have to vomit again, “do you remember what we did after a very romantic dinner?”

“Yeah.” My cheeks turned scarlet, reminiscing on the moment.

“Do you remember what we usually do before we do that?” Nova pressed her lips together.

“We use the protection spell.” I nodded.

“Mhm, yeah, so...” Nova scratched the back of her head. “...do you remember how we could barely keep a conversation up in that restaurant because we didn't have the time to have sex for like 14 days and we couldn't wait to get home and once we did we were so caught up in the moment that we forgot something?” She squinted her eyes, her cheeks burning.

“Forgot someth...” Before I could ask what she was trying to say, my eyes mimicked hers from before. “No!” I said incredulously.

Nova nodded and hummed.

“No, we can't be. You can't be. It was one time!” I was pretty sure I was getting green in the face now.

“It's a possibility,” Nova mumbled. “This stomach bug of mine could be morning sickness.”

“I...” I suddenly forgot how to speak. “But it was one time.”

“Char, it doesn't need more than one time to get pregnant.” Nova giggled.

“So what do we do now?” I tried hiding the fact that I was getting more nervous by the minute.

“Well, I think that now I actually have to listen to you and go to the healer.” I tilted my head at Nova.

How was she so calm? This was huge! If she really is pregnant and we're going to have a baby...

I blinked. I didn't know how I feel about this. Ever since we first talked about having a family it has been our secret guilty pleasure. We both want a family and move somewhere where it would be safer to raise the kids but we want that in a few years. We are not prepared to have a baby!

“Let's go then.” I offered her my hand.

“Now?” Nova glimpsed at the toilet.

“Should we wait for another hour, just to make sure you're done for the day?”

“Yes, please.” Nova gave out a sheepish smile.

—

“Well, if you are vomiting and feeling nauseous every morning and your period is late and you forgot to use the protection spell, it's pretty safe to say that you're pregnant.”

Madam Finch had a slight smirk on her face saying that. The second Nova felt better we went to the healing station and found her at once.

“But, how can we be sure?” Nova asked.

“Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do for you here. We don't have any equipment like that, since we are in the middle of a Dragon Sanctuary. I am afraid you will have to go to St Mungo's or go to a Muggle drug store to get a pregnancy test.”

“A pregnancy test?” I furrowed my brows. “How does that work?”

“It's a plastic stick on which Nova would pee and if the window displaying the result would have a plus in it she is pregnant and if it would have a minus she's not pregnant.” Madam Finch replied.

“And how reliable are these tests?” Nova wanted to know.

“If your period is late and you think you conceived in May it would be about 99% reliable.”

Nova and I looked at each other and nodded. I knew she had the same idea as I did. We need to get to a drug store at once.

We walked to the Sanctuary gates in silence. Nova was biting her lip and looking at the ground, while I tried to calm down my nerves. It was obvious that we felt too awkward talking about this because we were both afraid of what the other person would say. I didn't want to tell her that I'm nervous, I needed to be there for her and appear strong even though I was pretty sure that the same thoughts were crossing her mind.

The second we walked outside the gates, we locked arms and apparated to the nearest Muggle town. Nova spotted the store and grabbed my hand, dragging me behind her. She tried hard to appear as if she wasn't trying to rush this but I knew she wanted to get it over as soon as possible.

“There are so many of them. How are we supposed to choose?” Nova's eyes were scanning all the different boxes, while she was biting the inner side of her cheek.

“Which one does seem the most reliable to you?” I tried helping her even though I had zero experience when it came to this.

“I wish my mum was here,” Nova whispered and I was pretty sure I wasn't supposed to hear that.

I bowed my head. I felt so useless. She was nervous trying to find out if she had a baby in her belly and I was just standing next to her, helpless. I wish this would happen when we were more ready and I wish I was more knowledgeable about this so I could advise her.

“I'm sorry I am so helpless.” I put my hand on the small of her back. “What?” She looked away from the boxes and locked eyes with me.

“I feel so useless. I should be able to help you with this.” I pointed at the boxes.

“Char, stop it, now. I am as clueless as you are about this stuff and you don't see me apologizing to myself. We are going to manage just fine! We are in this together.” She bestowed me with the biggest reassuring smile, grabbed my hand, and pressed it hard against her chest.

“You're right.” I nodded and turned my head to the shelf with the boxes. “How about this one? It says that it's quick and 99.9% reliable.” I took the box and showed it to her.

“Sounds good to me. Let's take it!”

—

“I am so nervous, I can't believe I was able to pee!” Nova exclaimed as she came out of the bathroom, her eyes on the pregnancy test in her hand.

“I am proud of you for peeing, love.” I gestured for her to sit down on the sofa next to me.

She put the stick on the coffee table and positioned herself in my arms. I tightened the grip on her as much as possible because I knew how much it calms her down. I took a deep breath, neither of us taking our eyes off the test.

“So,” Nova swallowed hard, “we didn't talk about how we feel about this.”

“About what?” I kissed the top of her head.

“About how we would feel if a plus shows in that little circle.”

There was a moment of silence. I could feel Nova's heartbeat against my arm.

“Well, we didn't plan this,” I said carefully. I knew she was nervous but I didn't know what she was hoping for.

“Yeah.” Was all she replied.

“And we aren't even married.”

“Yeah.” “And we said we wanted to enjoy being married to one another for a few years before we start a family.”

“Yup.” Nova nodded.

“And we wanted to find a nice cozy home where we could envision us raising our little rascals.”

“That we did.”

“And we are currently at war.”

“Mhm,” Nova mumbled.

“It's the worst possible time to have a baby.”

“Yeah, I couldn't agree with you more.”

“But how I wish that we would get a plus.”

“Me too.”

Nova shifted in my arms and we both sighed in relief when we saw the biggest grins painting our faces.

“I know it's not ideal but is it ever the right time to have a kid?” Nova pressed her lips hard on mine.

“Is it okay if I say that I don't care when the right time is? I am so excited to see the result, hoping that we're pregnant that I can't think of anything else.” I admitted.

The second we started staring at that test and I thought to myself that I hope we are having a baby I forgot about all our worries.

Was the timing good? No. But do I think we are ready to have a family? Yes. We might not know everything and we have a lot to learn but every parent is clueless at the beginning, right? If Nova got pregnant in May, we have quite some time to learn all the necessary things for us to be great parents.

“I feel the same. I want to have a baby with you, Char.” Her voice was so soft and her eyes were so hopeful that I couldn't stand it anymore.

I gently pushed her away and kneeled in front of the coffee table, trying not to peak at the test.

“Has it been 2 minutes yet?”

“I think so.” Nova kneeled next to me, her eyes going from the clock on the wall to the test.

“Should we turn it around?” I put my arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead.

“Let's do it together.”

We grabbed the pregnancy test, one on each side, and turned it around.

“What does it say?” Nova asked.

“I don't know. I have my eyes closed!” I giggled.

“Me too!” Nova started laughing.

“Okay, we both look in three, two, one!”

We both opened our eyes, our gaze on the little circle in the middle of the stick.

“Love...” I whispered.

“It's positive.” Nova breathed.

“We're having a baby?” “We're having a baby!” Nova exclaimed, picked up the pregnancy test, and brought it so close to her face that it was almost touching her nose.

“We're going to be parents!” I helped her get up and we started jumping up and down around the living room.

“We're pregnant, Char!” She crushed into me, giving me the tightest hug. “And we're not even married.” She looked up at me, trying to see my reaction.

I couldn't stop smiling. Her being so happy and excited about it and me wanting to have a family with her ever since we got together, made this moment so perfect. I pressed a kiss on her forehead and one on each of her cheeks before I cupped her face and kissed her tenderly.

Before I could enjoy our pleasantly surprising news more, a thought came to mind and my eyes widened as Nova's did before.

“My mum's going to kill us.”

[azucanela]

Dating korra would include

BEING KORRA’S S/O[GENDER NEUTRAL]

BEING ZUKO’S S/O | BEING SOKKA’S S/O

SUMMARY: life with korra from confession to marriage

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

WARNINGS: no major spoilers 

A/N: SOMEONE WITH T A S T E, i hope you don’t mind but i kinda just did the same thing i did for my zuko headcannons so feel free to scroll straight to the during the relationship bit if you just want dating korra h/c :D 

also i have 300 followers now what, i literally had 200 like yesterday hi everyone <3 um i really need to start pulling out all the stops

GETTING INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

she’s a simp.

that’s it. thats the headcannon. she has literally liked you since she met you and has said nothing, but you probably know since she’s so damn OBVIOUS ABOUT IT

korra is very in tuned with her emotions so when she realizes she likes you she’s pretty okay with it, a little more flustered during your interactions, but after a while her goal is to make you feel how she feel which is flustered.

she has no shame though, she knows she is hot and she wants you to know she thinks you are hot

lots of flirting on her end, so naturally you kinda begin to think she is joking and think nothing of it

this was not her intent, and now that you are desensitized to her flirting and not reacting flustered like you did when she first started she is frustrated™

you were not understanding that she very much likes you

stupid

she hasn’t said anything outright to you about it though, which is the main reason you are like lol this is a joke, my crush fake flirts with me i am okay

spoiler alert: you are not okay with this it hurts ow

so now shes getting ridiculously affectionate with you, which, tbh, she always was, but not its RIDICULOUS, korra is out here throwing an arm around your shoulder, randomly grabbing your hand, kissing your cheek

shes trying really hard to get her point across like really really hard

like painfully hard

if she likes you its probably because your fun, like you really spice up her life and introduce her to new things and go on really dumb adventures and really important missions with her and you put up with her and wow now korra is simping oops

you’re also probably forcing her to stay healthy, since i honestly think that despite having such an appetite, korra will forget to eat and take care of herself sometimes.

she is so bad at drinking water i swear to goD

there are two situations here

situation one is where korra finally realizes that you CANNOT READ SIGNALS AT ALL and decides she going to be upfront with you about her feelings

she’s either going to just flat out kiss you next time she sees you or spill all her emotions, of both in no particular order

you’re like reading in your room in the air temple, just vibing, and you see her coming towards you with a determined look on her face and you’re like ??? lol okay

you go back to reading only to have her hand reach under you jaw and she brings you into a kiss and now you’re like LOL OKAY

you honestly think that this is just another one of her stunts to get you flustered and means nothing

stoopid

and then she pulls apart and just starts spilling her feelings and you’re like :O omg me too 

and she’s like, “great, we’re dating now.” and suddenly she’s kissing you again, and between kisses you’re like, “im sorry what?”

“you heard me. do you have a problem with that?”

you just kiss her again

situation two is where you get sick of her and realize woah she may or may not be in love with you and so you confront her, and now there is a lot of yelling because you are frustrated™ and like screw you korra

you honestly think she is either madly in love with you and just doing this as a joke, and you genuinely think the latter is more like so you lowkey start crying and korra immediately begins to panic

she’s like, “why would i ever joke about that! i’ve literally been trying to get that through your thick skull this whole time!”

this time you kiss her first and korra is throwing a party in her head but she also feels really bad for making you cry oops

DURING THE RELATIONSHIP

okay so korra happens to be very much a simp

and you happen to be very much the mom friend™ it doesn’t matter if you are a boy girl or none of the above, that is your trademark my friend

she’s very affectionate and now that the two of you are dating she is at a whole new level.

important meeting? you are in her lap she does not care. war meeting? she is cuddling you as you explain the plans of attack and DAMN DO YOU LOOK GOOD DOING it

since being the avatar is MUCH more a political position now though, she does try to keep your relationship slightly on the down low, even before you were dating, you both had reporters constantly asking about your relationship and she doesn’t really like that

they are nosy and she does not approve. korra understands wanting to know about her avatar duties, but anything outside of that in regards to her personal life annoys her

loves kissing you, and when she does it tends to be intense and passionate. after a particularly tough day though, her kisses can either be slow and sensual because she just wants to have a nice soft and domestic day with you

OR

they can be harsh and almost brutish, she will get rough with you because she is highkey pissed at everything that day and making out you with is her stress reliever

really likes cuddling and anything domestic in general. she’s really happy with you, and she kinda has all the love languages

she seeks validation when the press is particularly harsh since being the avatar is HARD and as much as she wants to, she cannot please anyone, so please tell her she is doing amazing

so many acts of service up in here, she will randomly do stuff for you, spontaneity is kinda her vibe ya know

very vocal and expressive about her feelings, communication is key with her

arguments aren’t a rarity tbh, but when they do happen they tend to be more of debates over little things like what’s better, pineapple pizza or no?

major fights tend to end poorly since she can be a little stubborn when it comes to such things, but she will admit she was wrong and apologize IF she was wrong

if she wasn’t wrong but the argument got out of hand, she’ll apologize for that but will affirm her correctness

kiss her scars, she has them, and she is proud of them but 

support her at her pro bending matches and she will DIE, so happy, literally sososososososo happy, hugs you, loves you, yes

treats you as an equal no matter what, even if people think that as the avatar she should see herself as something more than

very protective of you.

like if someone flirts with you, she is clingy x10. if someone hits on you despite your protests, she HITS them. if someone threatens to hurt you, she promises to end them. 

MARRIAGE N STUFF

WELP

she’s gonna realize she wants to propose when she almost loses you, or in the middle of a battle. when the reality of potentially losing you hits her she is gonna realize she wants to live out the rest of her life by your side, protecting you

situation one is where she literally, in the MIDDLE OF BATTLE, without a ring, just proposes. you are being a baddie, bending if you are a bender, fighting the opposing enemy, looking MIGHTY FINE while doing it

“marry me.”

you falter, nearly getting hit as your head whips over to her and you’re like, “ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

and she throws a giant rock at the opposition, temporarily indisposing them, “yes?? why wouldn’t i be.”

Someone comes up behind you and you elbow them in the face and ram your foot into their knee, knocking them down, “RIGHT NOW?” 

she throws a whip of water in your direction and you dodge it, allowing her to take out the enemy behind you, and you throw a whole dagger at her to do the same. “that was close.” she narrows her eyes at you bc you lowkey look like you wanna kill her rn as you two hide behind a barricade for cover and an explosion washes over it, “you could’ve killed me.”

“you just about gave me a heart attack when you PROPOSED two minutes ago, need i remind you.”

korra raised a brow at you, “is that a no...?”

“do you even have a ring?”

korra gives you a look that gives you the answer and you groan, “i cannot believe you.”

“you really should’ve expected this.”

“i know.”

“i get to pick the ring then?”

“you’re probably going to plan the whole wedding.”

“alright.”

theres a boom from beyond the barricade you two have hidden behind as korra looks to you, “alright?”

“i’ll marry you.” you elaborate, giving her a bright smile.

situation two is more depressing lol

you have been SHOT oops, don’t die pls because korra CANNOT handle it after everything that has happened to her, so if you die she’s done

she’s kinda just sitting at your bed side and it hits her that you could die basically any day now, and she would have so many regrets

she wished she kissed you more, told you she loved you more, held you longer, spent more mornings with you and your bedhead, she wished she learnt to cook so that she could surprise you with a meal when you get home from a long day of work, she wishes she did a lot of things

she wishes you two were married.

korra is now having an existential crisis, and everyone is telling her that she has to go home, get some rest, you’ll wake up eventually, you’ll get better, but you don’t wanna wake up to korra being a mess

she knew they were right, you always scolded her for not taking care of herself, so she decided to follow some of their wishes

Korra cannot bring herself to go home, there are so many reminders of you that it hurts, and she kinda just decides she’ll stay in a hotel and wash up and such.

besides, you are her home.

after leaving the hotel, she ends up going the jeweler and buying the ring she believes screams you

when korra returns to the hospital, she contemplated proposing right then and there, before realizing that you’d probably yell at her for choosing such a ridiculous time and you already had a lot on your plate

once the two of you return home and you are in the midst of recovery, she did learn to cook, so you wouldn’t feel the need to do so, and given your situation she fears you’ll injure yourself further in the process.

you two are eating dinner and you’re babbling on about something you’d read, and she suddenly decides to get up and walk over to you, leaving you like ???

then she gets down on one knee and you are like :O

she’s like, “marry me.”

naturally, you start crying and nodding because wow this is such an intimate moment and just happiness

kissinggggg after that 

the wedding is, under NO CIRCUMSTANCE public, the most private and intimate wedding ever. korra hates reporters after her life as the avatar, she doesnt want strangers at her wedding.

any and everyone she has ever fought beside is there though, its wholesome and nice

definitely cries when she sees you at the altar

her vows are MASTERFUL AND TEARJERKING 

its a pretty basic wedding though, unless you prefer something over the top, the food is nice a mix of both your cultures and favorite things and there’s beautiful lighting

definitely done on air temple island, and tbh tenzin would probably walk you down the aisle because i said so

married life with her is even better, she lives for he domesticity of it all, especially lazy sunday mornings with the light filtering in and you just looking all pretty and having a lil fun

iykyk

honeymoon in the spirit word lads

bolin is your number one supporter

life with korra is a 10/10 i do recommend it

A/N: im kinda in love with korra lol this requests made me happy

[justanotherlifeff]

If you're not comfortable with this, it's okay to skip. Aizawa has feelings for an "old soul" type of student in her last year at UA (so they're 18), but doesn't want to act on it for obvious reasons. She's had a crush on him since day 1 but respects him too much and doesn't want to get him in trouble. He shadows her on her first real mission and she gets hit with a quirk that makes her horny af, and is a poison that can only be expelled via lots of sex, so he has to "help" her or she'll die.

Urges

Hehehehe guess who's also 18 and a simp for Aizawa sensei? 😏😏😏

Warning: NSFW, Smut, age gap, Teacher-Student stuff

Guilty was one way to put how Aizawa felt when he found himself checking you out yet again in class. You were the embodiment of perfection. You were smart, matured, quiet, you liked cats as much as he did, and ofcourse, you were the mom friend to all the rowdy students in his god forsaken class. Yes, that exactly was the only thing holding him back (besides the huge age gap). You were his student. Sure, you weren’t one of the big 3 in your class like Mirio, Nejire and Tamaki because your quirk wasn’t as strong as theirs. However, you were infact the one in class to get top grades in tests. Infact, you even helped Aizawa grade papers since you somehow understood the barely legible handwriting of some of the people in this class. You were this little ball of sunshine, bringing a bento for the students who always forgot to bring any, keeping everyone out of trouble, tutoring anyone who you felt was having a hard time studying... Hell, it seemed like your schoolbag had everything that a person could need in it. Anyone forgot a pen? Ask (Y/N). Anyone forgot their umbrella? Ask (Y/N). Anyone forgot to even bring themselves to school? ASK (Y/N) CAUSE SHE'LL PERSONALLY TAKE THEIR NOTES HOME AND GIVE THEM A LECTURE ABOUT MISSING CLASS unless they are sick. In that case, she'll take a bento full of healthy food. The entire class saw (Y/N) as this motherly figure who pretty much dealt with their problems on a daily basis with a smile. Aside from your extreme maturity, you were extremely creative beyond your age. When Present Mic was struggling to make the class read basic Shakespeare, you were already quoting Jane Austen's pride and prejudice, something that was not even in the syllabus. Needless to say, you shared various intellectual conversations with Aizawa while the two of you graded papers as the grumpy man also happened to have an interest on literature. While your friends went out to do random shit together, you were the one staying back home because ofcourse, messing around in random amusement parks wasn’t your thing. You liked staying in the background like an adult, watching the kids have their fun and guiding them. Could you really blame Aizawa for falling in love with you?

Then again, you were his student. That made all the perfects imperfections because he shouldn’t be looking at you this way. Little did he know that his feelings weren’t one sided. You had a crush on your teacher ever since you stepped into UA. Did you feel guilty about it? Yes, yes you did. Did you ever think of confessing to him? No, no you didn't. You were okay with loving him from a distance because you knew that you would only create trouble for him if you were to come out about your feelings. However, you couldn’t help but show that you cared through certain gestures. You'd go out of your way to help him grade papers so that he would get a few extra hours of sleep. Every morning, you'd buy an extra cup of coffee or his favorite jello drink for him on your to school just to make his day more tolerable. You never expected him to return your feelings, however. He was your teacher after all. This was wrong after all.

Things were going fine to be honest. Both of you admired eachother from afar, knowing that confessing wouldn’t lead to anything good either way. That was until you were sent on a mission for your work studies. Your employer was busy with a different mission and your quirk was compatible against the villain you had to capture which is why, you were sent alone, much to Aizawa's displeasure. It wasn’t that he didn't believe in you because he did. He knew that you were strong but you were still a student. You didn’t have the experience that a pro hero had and they didn't even consider the fact that there may be unprecedented situations. Hence, he found himself staring at you more than often, trying to memorize every inch of you visible to him so that if something goes wrong he'd atleast... No. Nothing was going to go wrong. Not when he had something to do about it.

Hence, after class was over, Aizawa found himself following you discreetly, making sure that you didn't notice him. Aizawa was excellent at hiding his presence since that was the type of hero he was, which is why, you had no clue that he was following you. You followed the plan laid out by your employer flawlessly and almost caught the villain until a second party decided to show up. Aizawa recognized the other villain from his hiding spot. She had been wanted for quite long time however, before Aizawa got out of his hiding place to aid you, the villain had already used her quirk on you. Now that Aizawa had to choose between going after the escaping villains or checking on you, he did the latter since that's what a doting teacher who totally didn't have feelings for a certain student would do.

You were panting on the ground, your hands gripping the fabric of your hero costume near your thighs tightly as you were avoiding Aizawa's gaze. "(L/N), are you alright? How do you feel?" Aizawa asked you, worried. You tried to answer to him but you only managed to let out a patheric whimper. Only if you could stop how horny his voice was making you... Your whimper suddenly reminded the erasure hero of the certain villain's quirk. Cupping your face with one hand to make you look at him, he met with an extremely flushed expression from you along with lust blown eyes. The view before him did nothing but create a certain straining inside his pants. The villain's quirk made people horny, he recalled. Not having sex would make their body overheat and cause a complete organ failure, he remembered.

"S-sensei... I can't... I'm sorry..." you half whimpered half moaned as you hugged your teacher, desperate for any form of touch at this point. You couldn’t help it. His musky scent was way, way morr prominent to you now and your body was betraying your mind relentlessly. "Shhh (L/N)... It's gonna be alright. We need to get out of this alley first though..." Aizawa muttered, a small amount of pink dusting his cheeks. He was at loss on what he should do at this point. He knew that there was no other way out of it without you having sex at some point. Was he okay with you doing the deed with someone else all while he was aware of it? A selfish part of him told him that no, he wasn’t okay with it. Honestly, this was the perfect opportunity for him to get a taste of you. If things got out, he could tell everyone that he did it to save you. If you didn't return his feelings, this would be that one chance at ravishing you.

Shouta Aizawa was a good teacher and an honourable man at most parts. However, he didn’t hesitate in being selfish when his actions clearly wouldn’t hurt anyone. Which is why, he took you to his home. On his way, in the cab he hired, he explained the quirk of the villain to you. You tried staying normal as you constantly held hid hand, squeezing tightly as your horniness only increased drastically. By the time you reached his home, your legs were shaking and you could barely walk. Aizawa helped you walk into his apartment, avoiding picking you up since that would look awkward in public. By the time you were in his living room, your legs completely gave out as you were engulfed by his scent, the feeling of his touch messing you up.

"Sensei... I'm sorry.. Please... I can't take this anymore... Help me please...." you whimpered into his chest, hiding your embarassed face from him as the two of you sat on the ground. You knew things would never be the same between you and your beloved teacher anymore. Hell, he'll probably hate you for this. You were scared. Very scared. On the other hand, Aizawa was turned on beyond belief. Your soft whimpers, ragged breathe was just as good as he had imagined for months and more. He couldn't keep his hands off you any longer. He didn't intend to either. "I'm sorry, (L/N). I'll help you. I know you probably wouldn’t want me in normal circumstances but you don't have to talk to me again if this ends up making things awkward for you." Aizawa muttered to you soothingly before kissing you, making you lose all control as soft moans elicted from your mouth into his. Your clothes were taken off skillfully and fast as Aizawa touched your twitching groins. A rather loud moan escaped your mouth at that making Aizawa smirk. 'How cute...' he thought as he proceeded to enter a finger into your sopping pussy. However, your reaction to that was not quite expected. You flinched and held him tightly, biting your lips. He immediately took his finger out only to find blood coating it.

"You're a virgin?" Aizawa asked with a grimace. You were always popular among the class thanks to your maturity and he assumed that you had some experience. "Yeah... I've been waiting..." you gasped at the lack of his fingers. "I'm sorry, (L/N). I wish I could avoid this because this must be something very special to you and..." Aizawa was contemplating his decisions but you stopped him with a teary smile. "I was waiting for you... Please take me... I'm so happy now..." you told him, surprising him. These mere words made him feel as if his entire body was on fire as he kissed you furiously, gently easing his fingers back into you, waiting for you to adjust. His passionate kiss distracted you from the pain as he made you sit on his lap comfortably while you wrapped your hands around his neck. Just when you started bucking your hips towards his hands, he started pumping his finger in and out of you, adding an extra finger with time and stretching you out as fast as possible so that he could move to the main event.

"Let's take this to the bedroom shall we, (Y/N)?" Aizawa asked you with a lazy smirk as he looked at your disheveled self. You already had an orgasm from his fingering since he surprisingly was rather skillful in this department. You only gave him a lustful gaze as he picked you up only to place you on his bed moments later. "I need you... Please sensei..." you whispered to him, making him harder than he had ever been in his entire life. "God you're so cute..." Aizawa hissed as he unbuckled his pants only to reveal his huge length, precum dripping from the tip. Taking a box of condoms from the drawer of the bedside table and putting the condom on hurriedly, Aizawa positioned himself over your entrance as he rubbed his length on you a few times making you squirm before entering you in one go making you yelp in pleasure and pain. He tried his best to stay still, letting you adjust to his length but damn it was hard since your insides were squeezing him so deliciously, almost making him lose his sanity. However, Aizawa was a patient man and he would never hurt you. Just as you began to move around under him, trying to grind against him, he started moving. While Aizawa was a patient man, the way your pussy made him feel could break even the most patient man in the world. Hence, Aizawa just couldn’t help it but pound into you for dear life. While it hurted you slightly at the begining, in a few moments, you started to enjoy it just as much as he did. Your legs were wrapped around his hips as you marked his shoulders with your nails while you moaned loudly much to Aizawa's delight. A string of incoherent words escaped your mouth including something similar to "please sensei" and "more", which only increased Aizawa's determination on pleasuring you. His mission to make you a blabbering mess was infact successful since at the end of it all, you just went through your third orgasm for the day, you were drooling as your eyes were rolled back. You could barely speak as you moaned loudly, not aware of how loud you were being. At this point, Aizawa was chasing his own orgasm and he had to say, your state infront of him made sure that he was close, very close.

When Aizawa finally had his orgasm, he could say that this was the best sex he ever had in his entire life. Your overstimulated body laid under him, completely exhausted and panting while he laid beside you trying to catch his own breathe. That's when it all hit him like a brick. He fucked his student. Someone who probably told him that she was waiting for him only because of the effects of the quirk. What if you regretted it now? How could he show his face to you again? As if you were reading his mind, he felt you cuddle up to him with a shy smile on your face. Wrapping an arm around you, Aizawa asked with a stoic expression, hiding the insecurities inside him, "(Y/N), did you mean it when you told me that you were waiting for me?". It seemed as if the question made you even shyer than you were already as you hid your face on his chest and he didn't know what to make of it. "I had a crush on you ever since you stepped into the classroom for the first time in my first year and it only grew. I never told you because I didn't want to be a bother or get you in trouble. I understand if you don't return my feelings." you answered, your voice sounding rather sad. "(Y/N), I feel the same way. The only problem is, you're my student. Would you be okay with me taking you out after you graduate?" Aizawa asked you in a soft tone. You looked up at him, surprise and adoration lacing your face. "I... Ofcourse sensei..." you answered with a blush. "It's Shouta for you when we're alone, kitten. Except maybe in bed cause you look absolutely sinful when you're calling me 'sensei' " Aizawa smirked at you making you blush and hide your face on his chest yet again.

"Shouta? Remember when you asked me out?" you asked your husband as you looked at the album in your hand as you sat on his lap on a rainy afternoon. "Hmm... We had good sex that day..." Aizawa muttered lazily as he took a sip from the cup of coffee in his hand. "Huh? That's all you remember?" you pouted. How could he not remember the extremely romantic cuddling session afterwards? "Mhhm... Would it be weird if I said that it was kinda hot that you were my student back then?" he asked with a lazy smirk. It was both of your day off and somehow, the weather was extremely romantic at the same time. That was until your husband decided to act like a pervert and ruin the mood.

"You really are a perverted old man you know..."

"And yet you still love me, kitten"

[Author's note: Guess I kinda went overboard huh...👀. Alright, so I REALLY appreciate long asks with more description cause they are SO FUN TO WRITE cause they give me a better idea on how to write the fic. This was my most favorite ask so far tbh]

[bucky-blogs]

Rising of the Sun

Pairing: Zuko x Reader, Zuko x Pregnant!Reader

Word count: 1,983

Warnings: Pregnancy, morning sickness

Synposis: “Hello can we have a pregnant reader with zuko’s baby??” - requested by @aqua-the-mermaid26​​ . Sequel to this fic

A/N: I love this so much bc this kind of fluffs are my weakness!! Hope you guys enjoy it. I really enjoyed writing this. Feedback is much appreciated. Requests are still open, just send an ask

The day you married Zuko was one of the happiest days of your life. After being crowned as fire lord, he proposed to you 2 years later in the turtle duck pond, where you spend most of your time while he was in meetings. 

It was a magical night. You were both chilling under the tree while you watch the family of turtle ducks swimming around when he suddenly popped the question and, of course, you tackled him and said yes. 

That was a year ago, your wedding day was on the day of the first full moon. That day, all of Fire Nation was invited to witness your union of becoming one, the gaang was there too, dressed in their best outfits but no one compares to your beauty that night. You were like a sun goddess that everyone worshipped. Zuko, being Zuko, forgot to write vows until the last minute, you just laughed at him and he poured his heart out for you and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

Now things are going back to normal again, you just got back from your honeymoon in Ember Island where Zuko remodeled their old family home to relive some of his favorite memories of the past. 

“Good morning, my love” Zuko whispered in your ear groggily as he tightened his embrace on you. You giggle, having been awake for a few moments now. “Good morning, husband” you replied sweetly. 

He suddenly tackled you and is now above you peppering your face with kisses, “My wife, my queen” he said with every kiss. You started laughing and trying to push him away but he continued tickling your sides as well. “S-stop it, Zuko!” you tried to tell him while laughing and pushing him away.

“I’ll stop if you say it again”, he replied with a smile on his face as he sees your happy expressions. You knew what he was talking about. He loves it when he hears you say ‘husband’, it makes him weak in the knees. 

“S-stop it, h-husband!”, you tried to say in between laughs. 

He stopped, a smile adorning his face from ear to ear. It was a rare sight to see Zuko smile, and you cherished every moment you see it. You pulled his face down for a soft kiss, wanting to give him all the love in the world.

As you were kissing him, you suddenly felt a sense of nausea. You got up fast and raced to the bathroom to vomit. “Well, I didn’t know my morning breath was that disgusting for you to immediately throw up.”, he joked as he followed you and held your hair as you continued to puke. Once you were done, he helped you clean up. You smiled weakly at him and tried to ease the worry evident on his face. “I’m sure it’s just something I ate yesterday” you assured him as you caress his face. 

Zuko told you to go to the infirmary immediately but you dismissed him, “I’ll go if it happens again, I’m sure it’s nothing” you keep assuring him. He reluctantly let you go so he can start his duties for the day. 

Okay, you were wrong, you puked two more times that day and it’s made you weak for the rest of the day so, you visited the infirmary. As the healer checked you, the thought of being pregnant was on your mind. It brought a smile to your face, you and Zuko definitely talked about having kids. He was reluctant and scared of turning in to his father but you keep telling him that he was not his father and he’ll be a better father than Ozai was before. 

The healer went to your quarters a few days later while you were resting and told you what they found. You were beyond ecstatic when you heard what the healer said. You were going to be a mother! Happy tears start to fall on your face as you basked in the great news. Of course, you were excited and you can’t wait to tell Zuko. 

In that evening, you invited Zuko for a relaxing time in the turtle duck pond as you talked about your day. “I went to the infirmary a few days ago when I started throwing up and I just received the news today”, you told him softly.

A million thoughts already surfaced in his mind, what if you contracted an incurable disease? Were you terminally ill? Were you going to die? His breathing started to race and you turned to face him. “Zuko, stop panicking. Nothing’s wrong with me, in fact, it’s good news” you told him, trying to ease his panicking mind. He looked at you confused, how can throwing up be good news? He lets you continue, “The healer came to our quarters today and told me what was going on” you continued and looked at him smiling wide, “Zuko, I’m pregnant” 

Words can’t explain the happiness Zuko was feeling that night, he was beyond shocked by the news. He never imagined himself being a father but now that he was with you, the thought of having children isn’t as scary as it was before. He hugged you tightly as happy tears stream down his face, “Thank you so much, Y/N. I promise to protect you both with all I have.” He kneeled in front of you and softly held your still flat stomach. “Hey, there bean, I promise to be good to you and mommy. I’ll protect you and give you the best life possible.”, he kissed your stomach, his lips lingering there and you feel tears in your skin.

You kneeled with him a few moments later and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You went back to your room and celebrated the night with love and care. You knew that Zuko was going to be the best father to your children.

FIRST TRIMESTER 

Every morning, Zuko would wake up before you and kiss your stomach as he whispers sweet words to it. He always helps whenever you have morning sickness. He will hold your hair up and whisper encouraging words to you as you puke everything in the toilet. He’ll wash you up and kiss your head. Whenever you feel cramps, he’s immediately there to heat his hand the right amount and massage you where it hurts. He’s such an attentive husband and father.

He told the gaang the news via messenger hawk and he received letters back, congratulating him. He would announce to every person he meets, that you were pregnant. He can’t get enough of saying, “My wife’s pregnant”. Telling Iroh the news was the best, you traveled to Ba Sing Se to Iroh’s teashop to personally deliver the news to him. Iroh was ecstatic with the news, “I’m going to be a grandfather!”, he would say this to every customer that goes there, “And I’m going to be a father!”, Zuko would shout after he hears his uncle say it to each customer.

Eventually, the whole Fire Nation, nay the whole Four Nations, knew you were pregnant just because both of them wouldn’t shut up about it.

“Zuko, I’m pregnant, not ill”, you always tell him whenever you try to join meetings and he tells you that you need to rest. That doesn’t stop him from always preventing you from doing heavy work but you manage to convince him that you can still do it.

SECOND TRIMESTER

When your bump started to show, Zuko would always talk to it. “Hey bean, it’s your daddy here. Be good to your mommy while I do my Fire Lord duties alright?”, he would say this every morning.

There’s no day that he won’t talk to your growing bump. The morning sickness is gone now, you feel the baby kicks! 

One evening while you were trying to sleep, you felt a flutter in your stomach. You sat up quickly and grabbed Zuko’s hand while he was reading beside you. He was confused at first but then he felt the sudden kick of your baby and oh boy, his face was just priceless.

“Was that our baby?”

“No, it’s some turtle duck living inside me” 

He laughed and the whole night his hand stayed in your stomach, wanting to feel his baby’s kicks. 

Every time you have an appointment with the healer for your pregnancy, he was always there. There’s a meeting at that time? Meeting postponed, you always come first. He’s there in every appointment and asks a lot of questions to the healer about you and your bean.

“Are you sure bean’s okay?”, he would ask this at least 5 times until the healer would get annoyed. “Why don’t you just live inside your wife’s womb and see that your baby is healthy?” the healer would reply to him. 

He would just shrug it off and caress your growing bump.

THIRD TRIMESTER

If you thought Zuko was overprotective in the last few months, you were wrong. Now that you’re nearing your due date, he wouldn’t leave your side. 

“Here let me carry that for you”

“Zuko, it’s just a blanket”

Foot rubs at night were amazing, he would massage your feet whenever it aches. The panic came as you near your due date, he wants everything to be perfect. He refused to have his baby’s room far away from him, so he told the maids to set everything up in your room. You didn’t know the sex of the baby yet so everything is in the traditional fire nation colors. You already received gifts from your friends and other people from the council, wishing you and your baby well. Katara went to visit you during this time. She felt your bump and gleamed, already knowing that your baby is healthy. 

Zuko was against you going out of the palace but you were so cramped up in the palace and you convinced him to take a palanquin ride to town to visit the market and buy some stuff. 

You should’ve taken Zuko’s advice, you suddenly felt a wet sensation down there and you gripped Zuko’s hand tightly.

“Zuko, I think the baby’s coming”, his eyes widen and he ordered the guards to take you back to the palace. You’ve never seen how fast a palanquin can go but now you saw it. Once you were back, you were immediately put to the infirmary as the healers’ fussed over you. 

When it was time to push, Zuko was beside you holding your hand and whispers words of encouragement to you.

“You can do this, my love, I’m proud of you. Our bean is just a few pushes away” 

A few moments later, you heard the cry of your baby.

“It’s a girl, my lord, and lady!”, the healer announced.

Tears of joy stream down your face as you hold your baby girl in your arms. Zuko was beside you, the same mess as you are as he looks at your baby. You gestured for him to hold her and his eyes widen. He got scared, afraid that he would drop your baby, thoughts ran in his head, what if he wasn’t good enough? But you already started to hand her over to him. He immediately held her like he was his world and all those scary thoughts inside his head vanished if you could just paint this moment, you would.

“What would you like to name her, Fire Lord Zuko?”, the healer asked. You talked about names before one for a boy and one for a girl.

“Arpina”, Zuko softly replied.

“Just like the rising of the sun”, you softly whispered. Zuko turned towards you and kissed your head. 

This was the start of a new chapter in your lives, you wouldn’t trade for anything in the world because the sun rises with you. 

[nugnthopkns]

tell you i miss you but i don’t know how

word count: 2.7k

warnings: insinuated fem!reader, a singular swear word, it’s kinda angsty i guess

recommended listening: the story of us | taylor swift

a/n: long time hockey fan, long time reader, first time writer. i’ve been thinking about posting for a while and decided to bite the bullet. no time like the present i suppose. tagging some folks i feel might be interested (but there’s literally zero pressure please feel free to ignore) @matbaerzal​ @davidpastrsnack​ @troubatrain​ @jamiedrysdales​

Breaking up was for the best. 

You repeat the phrase like a mantra. It’s the first thing you think when you wake up, in the back of your mind as you sit in your cubicle, and verbally repeated anytime you pass a mirror. Deep down you know it’s right; you and Tyson aren’t on compatible lifepaths, and that’s okay. You just wish it didn’t hurt so much to say goodbye. He’s an easy person to miss, with his infectious smile and quick wit. Tyson’s the only person who’s made you laugh so hard tears roll down your cheek; the one who always picked up a bag of pretzels on his way home from the rink so you could have a snack after work. Though you didn’t expect to get over him quickly, you had no idea you’d still miss him nearly a year later. Or that it would hurt so much every time you see him in public. 

♠♠♠♠♠

The bar offers a reprieve from the brisk Denver wind. October has been unusually chilly so far, but the bodies packed like sardines in the open room create all the heat insulation you need. It’s a Friday night and you’re hoping to unwind after a stressful week at work. It’s audit season, meaning you’ve had to pull crazy late nights as you read over the financial records of the firm’s junior partners. Today was particularly terrible, with the computer system crashing, and you really need a drink. Your friends are supposed to meet you, but a text confirms that traffic is heavier than they anticipated and they’re running late. 

Not wanting to waste precious time, you head straight for the only empty space at the bar. A bartender a few years older than you sees you approach and leans close to hear your order over the thumping bass. “Could I just grab a gin and tonic?” you ask, and she smiles before turning away to make your drink. A minute later a drink is placed in your hand and you scour the venue for a table. A small booth is available in the corner; the perfect size for your party. It turns out to be the perfect spot for people watching, and you casually sip your drink and occasionally scroll through instagram while you wait. A text from your friend alerts you everyone is fifteen  minutes out. Though it’s pretty crowded everyone seems to be congregating on the dance floor so you don’t hesitate to leave your table and order a second drink. 

This gin and tonic goes down easier than the first, and soon you’re on your third. There’s still no sign of your friends anywhere and the balls of your feet ache from the heels you wore to the office today. You abandon your plan to meet them at the door, firing off a text giving your location in the venue. Once sitting down, you take off your shoes and rub at your feet. Why did you choose today to abide by the dress code? You typically wore a discreet pair of sneakers and wished you could go back in time to change your shoe choice. 

“I see you’re still drinking gin and can’t wear heels for more than two hours.”

His voice sends shivers down your spine. You look up to see Tyson smiling down at you, and the room spins around you. The entire reason you picked this bar was because it was the only one the boys didn’t frequent, but it seems they’re here anyways. 

“I’m consistent,” you say, trying to keep your voice even. The sight of Tyson makes your heart clench. He looks good, glowing the way that means the team came out with a win and that he played well and put up some points. 

Tyson nods to the empty seat across from you, and against your better judgement you allow him to sit. A small section of your brain thinks he’s going to confess he’s been miserable the last few months, that he’s still madly in love with you. It seems to be the part controlling the rest of your body. “That’s one thing that’ll never change. How’s work?”

You hum wistfully, wishing he wouldn’t make small talk. How is this so easy for him? “Busy,” you sigh. “It’s audit season so the department is swamped. The boys still causing issues?”

“They’re annoying as ever.” He smiles at you again. The sick feeling in your stomach doesn’t subside. Tyson gives you a quick recap of the Avs’ season so far, and you half pay attention. You’ve gone to great lengths to avoid seeing him: switched the way you drive home, where you hang out with friends, what grocery store you go to. It’s a little ironic he’d find you here of all places. 

Idle chatter occurs for a while. Tyson’s talking to you like he’s reuniting with a childhood friend, not an ex-lover. As much as you find the conversation uncomfortable, you can’t turn him away. You miss sitting with him, talking about anything under the sun. Life hasn’t been as bright since the break up. No matter how hard you try, nothing fills the Tyson sized hole in your heart. In a twisted way his presence is comforting, a reminder of what once was. Eventually his teammates realize he’s gone missing and come to whisk him away. 

“See you around Y/N,” Tyson says, a little bewildered because J.T is dragging him by the belt loops. 

All you can croak out is a feeble “Yeah.” He doesn’t look back once he’s away from the table. You shouldn’t have expected him to; he seems to be doing fine. Well even. Every step he takes breaks your heart a little more, and you curse yourself for missing him and down the rest of your drink. 

Your friends find you crying in the bathroom and usher you home. 

♠♠♠♠

Despite being separated from Tyson, you’re still close with some members of the Avalanche extended family. Mel Landeskog continually reaches out, ensuring you’re doing the best you can given the circumstances. It isn’t easy when your ex-boyfriend is the pride of Denver, plastered over every billboard in a fifteen mile radius of the city. When she called to ask if you’d emergency babysit Linnea while she ran errands you jumped at the opportunity to help. 

“Thank you so much,” Mel says, cooing to her daughter who’s comfortably placed in your arms. 

“It’s not a problem,” you insist, “I’m just glad I can finally start repaying you for everything you’ve done for me.”

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, telling you to text her if you need anything picked up at the store. You’re then left alone with the baby who is luckily one of the happiest you’ve ever seen. The first hour or so is spent entertaining Linnea with various toys and games. Her smile and laugh melt your heart, and your mind briefly flashes to conversations you had about children with Tyson. You push them from your mind, not wanting to lose your focus. The child in front of you is the one that matters, not the hypothetical one from times past. Around two she gets fussy; a bottle and quick diaper change satiate her. 

“You having fun pretty girl?” you coo. “I’m not always the most exciting to be around.” She doesn’t respond; just looks up at you with heavy lids. You pull her closer to your chest, rocking gently back and forth on your heels. Within minutes she’s soundly asleep and you head upstairs to place her in the crib. 

Back on the main floor, you settle into the corner of the couch. The baby monitor is on the coffee table and you keep your laptop at a low volume to ensure you’d hear anything. You sift through the mess in your inbox, deleting promotional emails and replying to those that need your attention. After killing half an hour, you quickly check on Linnea before scrolling through social media. According to twitter the Avalanche are on a six game winning streak and are looking to keep it alive. You honestly could care less about hockey anymore; it’s a painful reminder that Tyson is no longer yours. In truth you’re happy for the team because they work hard and deserve it. Other social media platforms yield nothing of interest and you soon feel yourself nodding off. Looking at the clock you realize there’s about an hour left in the baby’s nap, so you let yourself sleep. 

A knock on the door startles you awake. Careful not to cause a commotion that could wake Linnea you head in the direction of the entryway. The knocking increases as you approach, and you open the door to a disheveled Tyson.

“What are you doing here?” You didn’t mean for the question to come off so rude, but it does. 

He pays it no mind. “Is Gabe home yet?”

“No,” you sputter. “I’m watching Linnea while Mel stepped out.” 

Tyson looks stumped. “He should be home by now. We had plans to unwind before the game.” You make no attempt to stop him from entering, and he takes his shoes off without another word. Aimlessly trailing behind him, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he heads to the guest room. “I’m gonna take a nap, have Landy wake me up when he gets home.”

“Can do,” you sigh, but it falls on deaf ears. Tyson’s already got the door shut, and you imagine he’s climbing under the covers, blissfully unaffected by your presence. You can’t say the same. Knowing he’s less than fifty feet from you sends you spiraling. Flashbacks of pre-game cuddles grace the back of your eyelids, and you rub your temples furiously to get rid of the images. It doesn’t help. You want nothing more than to not be bothered by how much you miss seeing him. You miss the way his hands felt entangled with yours and how sweet his voice sounds in the morning. Being this hung up on a person so long after a relationship has ended can’t be healthy. 

The baby monitor crackles, signaling the baby, and the only reason you haven’t fled, is once again awake. Linnea’s room is bright and cheerful; the perfect hideaway from Tyson. Sometime during your tenth reciting of Green Eggs and Ham Mel returns. She finds you upstairs and giddily sweeps up her child, missing her terribly even though she was only gone for a couple of hours. 

“Did everything go okay?”

You nod. “She was a dream. The happiest baby I’ve ever seen. She might need to be changed soon though.” 

Mel nods. “I saw Tyson’s car in the driveway, did he meet Gabe?”

“He’s actually asleep in the downstairs guest room,” you whisper, scared he’ll sense you’re talking about it, and by extension thinking about him, missing him. 

“Oh. Shit.”

That’s the understatement of the year. “Yeah.” You quickly help put away the groceries before heading out, not wanting to disrupt the routine more so than you already had. Really though, you want to be as far away from the Landeskog’s as possible before Tyson wakes up. You’ll have to do a better job of avoiding him in the future, you decide on the way home. You’re heart can’t take seeing him this frequently – or at all. 

♠♠♠♠

You would rather be anywhere than the Pepsi Center. It’s the first time you’ve been in the arena since breaking up with Tyson and you’re downright miserable. However, you promised your younger brother you’d take him to a game the next time he visited Denver with your parents and you aren’t about to break his heart. Ryan is borderline obsessed with the Avalanche and hockey in general. At eleven he’s showing significant promise and you know he works hard.

“Ry, slow down,” you huff, desperately trying to keep up with him. The kid is swaying through the throng of people at lightning speed, desperately trying to make it to your seats to catch warmup. Wanting to make the experience special for him, you purchased seats along the glass across from the Avs bench. Your brother halts, tapping his foot impatiently as you join him and match his stride. 

Contrary to what Ryan thinks, your seats have not been stolen and warmup is just starting. His winter jacket is soon placed on the seat, revealing the too big jersey underneath. The number seventeen nearly sits at his elbow and the name-bar is askew because one side keeps slipping down, but your brother’s happy. He’s preoccupied with watching players do passing drills, hands pressed against the glass, and you allow yourself to look around. Virtually nothing has changed since the last time you were here. The banners are still the same, the energy electric. One small difference is your seating arrangement: the better halves’ box is no longer a luxury you have available to you. A quick glance in that direction confirms they’re enjoying themselves, laughing and no doubt in the midst of planning the next off-season wedding. 

Ryan grips the hem of your sweater to get your attention. “Look Y/N,”  he squeals, “Tys and J.T are coming over!” Sure enough, the two friends are making a beeline in your direction. Tyson waves and Ryan eagerly reciprocates. You’re reminded just how much he misses Tyson; they were the best of friends whenever they could get together. Another piece of your heart breaks in that moment, as you realize you aren’t the only hurting from the breakup. 

“You’ve got him in the wrong jersey Y/N,” J.T smirks. “Think he’d look better with thirty-seven plastered all over.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll remember that Compher. You got the spare change lying around to buy him one?” There’s no malice in your voice; you truly miss joking around with him. 

Tyson throws a puck high enough to clear the plexiglass. “Ry-Guy, catch!” It lands unceremoniously at Ryan’s feet, but he beams as he picks it up. The two boys share a makeshift fist bump and quickly catch up with each other. It’s been over a year since they’ve seen each other at this point, and Ryan has so much he wants to talk about. J.T tells a joke that makes the younger boy laugh, and Tyson turns his attention to you. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says, doing his best to convey his sincerity. The energy of the area and the adrenaline have Tyson shaking slightly, and he rocks back onto his blades. 

You study his facial features as you inhale. He’s still incredibly handsome, just slightly more defined, like he’s growing into himself. “Likewise,” you exhale. You know you shouldn’t lie but you can’t help it; for Ryan’s sake you need to pretend that seeing Tyson doesn’t make you want to curl into a ball and cry. He smiles sadly, like he knows you’re putting on a show. He probably does – you’ve never been good at hiding your emotions from him. Has been able to see how much you hurt every time you interact?

Ryan recaptures Tyson’s attention for a few final moments before he has to return to the locker room. With a high-five and a promise to call soon he skates away, leaving your brother to gush about his idol. The game goes better than you could have ever imagined; the Avs gain a landslide victory and Tyson gets a hatrick. After each goal he points in your direction and Ryan goes berserk. You catch yourself smiling, proud of his accomplishment, before you realize you won’t be at the celebratory afterparty. That isn’t your life anymore. 

The traffic out of the arena is terrible, and Ryan’s asleep in the backseat before you hit the interstate. In some sort of daze you think about what you’d be doing with Tyson right now if you were still together. Maybe you’d be getting ready to make an appearance at a club to celebrate the big game, but it’s more likely you’d be pressed together on the couch, watching a nature documentary to unwind. It’s moments like that you miss most; where you were both too comfortable and enamored with each other to care about your social obligations. A single tear escapes and flows down your cheek. One turns into ten, and soon you’re sobbing over lost love. 

♠♠♠♠

Tyson Jost isn’t someone you could ever stop loving. He’s the human equivalent of the sun, and even now your life revolves around him. It’s centered on missing him, sure, but that’s a part of him nonetheless. You can only hope it gets easier to deal with.

[gamerwoo]

Wonwoo: Hearing Lips

Characters: Wonwoo x female reader

Genre/warnings: non idol au, angst, a little fluff, a little crack, terminal illness/cancer, implied major character death. basically this starts out a lil happy but just gets worse and worse as it goes on

Word count: 3,053

Summary: Sometimes relationships get hard. Sometimes someone cheats. Sometimes someone doesn’t feel the same anymore. And sometimes, someone gets sick and things take a turn for the worst. But in the last instance, no matter how hard things get, you stick beside them until the end. Because you love them.

a/n: i wanna make a second part at some point bc i have an idea for it but i have a lot of shit to do so we’ll see

Wonwoo took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. He looked down at the clippers that one of his friends, Minghao held in his hand.

“This sucks,” was what he decided to say.

You pursed your lips and nodded slowly. It was at that stage where your husband’s hair was starting to fall out, but he decided he didn’t want to go through all that. Wonwoo asked if you would care if he just shaved his head to avoid the hair loss. You asked him why you’d care.

“What if I’m ugly?” was his response, which made both of you chuckle.

“You’re always going to be the most handsome man on the planet to me,” you replied.

So he called on his friend, Minghao to do the cutting for him. A handful of his other friends showed up, promising to shave their own heads along with Wonwoo just so he wouldn’t feel so alone.

“Why can’t I do it?” Mingyu whined. “We’ve been friends longer!”

“Because you’d probably shave his ear off,” Joshua scoffed.

As the group began to tease Mingyu, Minnghao turned to you, offering the clippers to you, “Are you sure you don’t want to do it, _____?”

You looked down at the clippers, considering it. But ultimately, you shook your head, “What if I shave his ear off?”

“The only thing I want to lose today is my hair, thanks,” Wonwoo nodded.

“Alright,” Minghao turned the clippers on, but Wonwoo didn’t react to the noise. The sound of the clippers didn’t scare him like he thought they might. Just because he had to shave his head, that didn’t mean it was the end. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged before he sat in the chair placed in front of Minghao.

While Minghao shaved Wonwoo hair, the strands falling in clumps on the floor around him, the rest of you watched and told various stories of times you’d hung out together just to lighten the mood and make each other laugh. Like the time Soonyoung stuck bubblegum in Jeonghan’s hair to see if peanut butter would actually get it out. Or when they managed to convince Seokmin that girls don’t have to shave, their hair just falls off when it gets too long. 

The rest of the boys took turns sitting down in front of Minghao before Josh did the younger boy’s hair. 

Admittedly, Wonwoo pulled the bald look off.

Seungcheol absolutely did not.

-

“Where are you going?”

You had heard the bedroom door closed and turned your head away from the TV in time to see Wonwoo walk down the hall. You’d brought him home from his chemotherapy appointment and knew he was supposed to be resting afterwards, so you were concerned as to why he was going down the hall.

“Office,” he replied.

You got up from the couch and went to follow him, “Why?”

“Bills.”

Wonwoo was always a stickler for paying the bills on time, but you weren’t sure why he didn’t just let you do it or simply ask you to do it for him.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” you told him.

“I’ll be sitting in a chair, it’s fine,” he said before entering the office and shutting the door behind him.

With a sigh, you retreated back to the living room, deciding to text one of your friends to see what to do. Wonwoo had been getting a bit touchy lately, and you didn’t want to tell him what to do and make him mad. So your best option was to get advice because you didn’t want Wonwoo to pass out in the office or something.

To Hansol: wonwoo wont lay down

From Hansol: ???? whats he doing?

To Hansol: paying the bills in the office

From Hansol: ah

From Hansol: maybe he wants to make himself useful??

To Hansol: wdym

From Hansol: all he’s supposed to be doing now is basically nothing

From Hansol: things arent looking good rn

From Hansol: he probably want to do things for you and himself while he still can

You stared at your phone, feeling a pang in your chest reading the texts. You let out a sigh and set your phone down, letting Wonwoo stay in the office to do the bills.

-

it was the first time all of the guys had come over since putting Wonwoo’s bed in the living room. It was the only place with enough space since it was a hospital bed, and Wonwoo would at least always have the TV since the only thing he could do at this point was lay in bed.

“Wish I could sleep in my living room,” Soonyoung said.

“Yeah, I bet your girlfriend wishes that, too,” Jeonghan nodded.

Once a month, they’d all have a game night where the thirteen of them would gather at someone’s house to play something, whether it be Uno, poker, Cards Against Humanity, or whatever else they could come up with for that many players. But until your husband got better, it would have to be at your house all the time.

You gave them their space despite insisting they could include you in the game. You decided to just go to the office and use Wonwoo’s PC to play some games and watch a little YouTube. 

In the living room, the boys were playing Uno together while talking and laughing together. A few of them were drinking beer as well, but most of them stuck to soft drinks instead.

“How’re you doing lately, Woo?” Jeonghan asked after taking a sip of his drink.

Wonwoo shrugged with a sigh, “Fine, I guess. I can only use this blanket because the others feel bad on my skin. I’m bored. I’ve watched like, every YouTube video ever at this point.”

“How do you feel, though?” Chan wondered.

“Tired.”

Junhui laid down a card before looking over at Wonwoo, “How’s _____ been?”

“She’s an absolute angel,” he chuckled. “She takes care of me and everything. She’s the strongest person I know.”

“If you ever need one of us to stay here for a couple days to help out, you know you can ask,” Jihoon stated with a handful of them nodding or giving various sounds of agreement.

“Neither of us wants to bother anyone.”

“It’s not a bother,” Seungcheol said, looking Wonwoo in the eyes. “Neither of you will ever be a bother.”

Jeonghan nodded, “We know things are going to get tough and we’re here for you guys. Just say the word.”

“Yeah...” Wonwoo shrugged with a deep sigh as he put down a card when it was his turn, “there are days worse than others. But lately, it’s been okay, I guess. At least, that’s what she leads me to believe.”

“Yeah, _____’s never been one to break down in front of people,” Seungkwan mumbled.

“I hope she’s doing okay, though,” Wonwoo frowned. “I feel so bad for her...”

You truly were the strongest person Wonwoo knew for doing just about everything for not only him, but for yourself and everything around the house. And you did it all without ever showing if you were feeling negatively -- at least, not around him. Wonwoo thought you were absolutely amazing, but inside, he felt guilty for doing this to you.

But like you’d never tell Wonwoo when you felt overwhelmed, he’d never tell you how he felt, either.

-

It was one of those days. One of those bad days. You felt like the world was crumbling right in front of you but there was nothing you could do about it. You were sad, scared, stressed out, and you didn’t know what to do next or who to go to. You always just kept things bottled inside even though your friends and family told you it was better to talk to people about things. But you didn’t want to seem like you were complaining about Wonwoo. It wasn’t your husband that was the problem, it was the situation.

You had taken Wonwoo’s empty dinner plate from the living room to the kitchen, setting it in the sink. You dropped your head, hands gripping the edge of the counter as you squeezed your eyes shut to keep the tears threatening to escape from spilling. 

Something one of the nurses had said to you during one of Wonwoo’s hospital visits was to be careful of what you say, even quietly, around him.

“People with cancer and the like tend to just hear really well,” she explained. “Especially when they can’t open their eyes anymore. Their hearing is scarily good. Don’t say anything bad around him because he will hear it.”

You learned to only let out your emotions when you were alone in your bedroom, but you couldn’t make it through the living room to get there. So you just stood in the kitchen, trying to compose yourself to go back out into the living room to sit with your husband.

“This is too hard,” you just barely whispered to yourself.

“I know,” you heard Wonwoo say softly from the living room, “I’m sorry, love.”

You lifted your head, your heart breaking hearing him apologize. You didn’t even think about how he heard you, rushing into the other room to promise that you weren’t talking about him. As you walked up to his bed, he looked up at you with a sad half-smile.

“I know I’m making things tough,” he continued quietly. “I’m really sorry you have to deal with it.”

“No, baby, no,” you quickly shushed him, cupping his face in your hands. “It’s not you, it’s the situation. You’re not difficult or making things difficult. None of this is your fault.”

Wonwoo didn’t really like things touching his skin because it had become so sensitive and felt weird when most things touched it, but he leaned into your touch and put his hands over yours. He noticed the tears welling up in your eyes and reached one hand up to brush his thumb under one of your eyes.

“It’s okay if you need to cry, you know,” he told you. “You keep everything to yourself and that’s not healthy.”

You shook your head, whispering so your voice wouldn’t break, “I have to be strong for you. I don’t want to cry and scare you that things are getting bad.”

He chuckled sadly, “_____, I know things are bad. You’re stressed. You can cry, it’s okay.”

Hearing him say that broke you for some reason. You collapsed in the chair you kept beside his bed and just cried while he held your hand. That was the first time you cried in front of Wonwoo in a long time.

While you cried, you heard him softly tell you, “You’re still the strongest person I know.”

-

Despite not wanting to go, Wonwoo had to be admitted to the hospital. You weren’t sure for how long, but he was complaining about feeling sick and neither of you were sure if it was cancer-related or not. But the doctors decided it was best to keep an eye on him for a couple days until he was feeling better.

Unfortunately, he was getting to a point where his eyes didn’t open as often. Even if he was awake, sometimes he just looked like he was sleeping. You were told that would happen eventually, and whenever Wonwoo looked at you, you looked back at him and tried to memorize the shade of brown as if it would be the last time you’d ever see his eyes.

Jeonghan came to visit you at the hospital after finding out you were there for an entire day without anybody besides Wonwoo. So he rushed there after work and sat with you in Wonwoo’s hospital room, both of you trying to keep your voices down since Wonwoo seemed to be sleeping. You knew if Wonwoo knew that one of his friends were there, he would’ve been talking to them.

Jeonghan reached out with his foot, nudging your shin with the tip of his sneaker to get your attention. You looked over at him. He mouthed something to you, but you weren’t sure what it was.

You cocked your head to one side, mouthing, “What?”

He leaned forward, so you did, too. He tried to whisper his question as quitely as he could, but you still heard absolutely nothing, and you were having trouble reading his lips.

“What?” you mouthed again.

“He asked if you paid the bills on time,” Wonwoo murmured, still looking like he was asleep, “but it’s okay if you didn’t.”

The only part of Wonwoo that moved was his mouth. Even once he was done talking, he looked like he had been sleeping the entire time. You wondered if you almost inaudible conversation was heard loud and clear to him.

“O-oh,” you said. “Um, my mom reminded me, yeah.”

“Did you...have enough?” Jeonghan wondered.

“Please don’t offer us money again,” you frowned.

“You know I have more than enough for myself. And you’re always staying home to take care of Wonwoo. I just want to make sure you’re both okay fanatically.”

It was true that Jeonghan made pretty good money. And considering his last relationship didn’t work out, he only had to support himself. For what he got paid, he definitely had some to spare. Still, neither you nor Wonwoo wanted to take ‘free money’ from your friends.

You opened your mouth to reply, but a nurse had walked in and asked to speak with you. You sent a playful glare toward Jeonghan before you got up and left the room.

Jeonghan was unaware that Wonwoo’s hearing had gotten so strong, and the fact he heard the question surprised him. So he wanted to test it to see how good it was, mouthing something else.

“No, Jeonghan, you can’t steal my wife,” Wonwoo sighed with the hints of a smirk on his face. “At least not until I’m dead.”

Jeonghan ignored the dark addon at the end, letting out a chuckle, “That’s kind of spooky, dude.”

“I hear everything now,” he said.

The older boy sat back in his seat, staring over at his friend who still had his eyes closed -- despite that, he still had his glasses on for whatever reason, “Have you actually...talked with _____ about that, though?”

“About you stealing her?”

“No. Have you told her if you’d want her to move on if you actually do...y’know?”

“Yeah. When I was first bedridden, I figured I should mention it. I told her to just find someone who makes her happy, even if it was one of you. I just said she can’t marry Soonyoung because he’s a fucking idiot.”

Jeonghan let out a laugh, leaning forward in his chair, “Yeah, I don’t think any of us would let that happen. Even Soonyoung knows he wouldn’t be good enough for her.”

“I’m glad she’ll at least have you guys if anything happens,” Wonwoo hummed. “You’ll watch out for her. You’ll make sure she doesn’t get into any shady relationships or do anything reckless.”

“Why do you always assume we need to be there?”

“Because I need to be prepared.”

Jeonghan sat back in his seat again, not knowing what to say. He just stared at his friend, hoping that he was preparing for nothing.

-

You had a bad feeling this was coming, but you were hoping it was just your anxiety telling you that. But when the doctor told you that you had to have the papers signed, you knew that there wasn’t any going back now.

Wonwoo was going to die.

Just in case, he had already gone to have the papers drawn up for if he’d want to be revived or not if anything should happen. But he had forgotten to get them from your attorney so they had to be retrieved and signed. But you were specifically told you couldn’t just instruct your husband to sign them. You had to sit there and explain what everything was, and then he could sign them. You just weren’t sure if you could do that.

Seungcheol was the one who went into Wonwoo’s hospital room with you with the papers. You sat down by Wonwoo’s bed while Seungcheol sat in a chair across the room and watched, just there for emotional support if you needed it.

“What’re those?” Wonwoo asked.

“I need to go over these with you,” you told him.

You sat by his bed with his table pulled out as you read the papers and explained what they meant. You already knew the decisions Wonwoo had made, but reading them and saying them out loud was hard, especially knowing that this was how things would end. He said he didn’t want to be revived because he knew how hard it would be on you. He wanted to make things quicker and easier.

“So if you’re to...start...going...you don’t want--”

You couldn’t even finish the sentence before you choked on your tears, coughing to clear your throat.

And that’s when Wonwoo knew. This was it.

“Why’re you crying?” he asked quietly. He knew this was coming. He knew you knew this was coming. But he knew you wanted to believe it wouldn’t. 

You sniffed while you tried to control your breathing so you wouldn’t break down sobbing. But it didn’t work, tears already falling down your cheeks as you whimpered, “I don’t want you to die.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I don’t want to leave you.”

Seungcheol got up and stood beside you, rubbing your back to comfort you despite tears of his own escaping from his eyes. He couldn’t even say anything to help you feel better because he knew nothing would work. So he helped you go over the papers with Wonwoo while all three of you tried to choke back tears.

-

It was getting close. You knew it was. You just had a feeling that stuck with you all day, so you never left Wonwoo’s side. You held his hand and sat beside him for hours, trying to keep your crying as silent as you could while you mouthed ‘I love you’ as many times as you could because you were too afraid of your voice breaking if you spoke.

But you knew Wonwoo heard every word.