#laughing so hard i give myself an asthma attack

[hemipenal-system]

"using sex toys is assaulting them because they can't consent" is an opinion i just saw on twitter what are the radfems doinggggggg

[rjthirsty]

Ah, yes, the bugs with Love Unholyc were numerous. So, let me make something very clear, I think language is confusing and ridiculous, and I laugh hard enough to give myself an asthma attack when it gets jumbled either through a mistranslation or punny wordplay. It just cracks me up. I'm constantly laughing at words in my head.

I tend to take a lot of screenshots of bugs.

Here, Leo is speaking to Sol, but he answered in Sol's place. Clearly, it was a coding error, but it tickled me to see it play out in my head like this.

The next is Leo talking for both himself and Sol and maybe even Hi. Plus, Sol is speaking for Leo. It's all sorts of messed up. Leo just wants to be everyone. Haha.

Hi is addressing Leo, but Sol answers. Guys, this game was a hot mess on launch, but I loved it so much! To say I'm grinning right now while remembering all these things doesn't really do it justice in explaining how much I loved this game.

William lost his face!

A "Phuket" Monster! Haha. Let me explain. In some languages, 'h' doesn't change the sound when next to another consonant. Pat and Phat sound the same. In English, this isn't the case. Fat and Phat sound the same. This is supposed to be a play on Pocket Monster, but instead, we'd read it as Fucket Monster, and that's hilarious to me.

William name dropping modern-day Unholycs. There are no errors here, I just like this bit of lore for the game.

Have I mentioned how much I love William? He is supposed to be your butler, and he's always so sassy. I love him so much!

[lil-miss]

Werid ask game: 29, 46, 50?

#29 best way to bond with you?

Talk to me about my interests, writing, art, etc. I put a lot of myself into my work and the things I enjoy.

#46 most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Soft pants and a hoodie the size of Texas.

#50 what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

This is actually pretty recently, last week, when my brother was home from uni, me, him, one of his friends, and my little sister were playing Taboo. The premise of the game is that you have to get your partner to say a word on a card that you draw, but there is a list of words that you can’t say to get them to guess the word on the card. Me and my brother were on the same team in the world that I had was massage, and I thought “oh easy, my brother is literally known for giving good shoulder massages” so first I gave him some other information that would lead him to the conclusion of massage, and then I said “You are known for giving good _______”  and without a single moment of hesitation, this man looked me in my eyes and said “head.” And I fucking lost it. I was laughing so hard I had an asthma attack. 

Speaking of laughing so hard I have an asthma attack, this isn’t a specific moment, but every single time that I am on a call with the people on the Alt ZaDr server or the BananaPoop server I usually need to make sure that I have my inhaler nearby because these idiots make me laugh too much. I swear one of these days they are going to land me in the hospital. 

[jamiebluewind]

My friend @winterpower98 is going to school to become an ASL interpreter, so we've been practicing together for a few months. I mostly just checked her signing and didn't sign myself because I was slower and didn't want to take up her valuable practice time clumsily trying to sign. Still, I intend to learn if for nothing else than having a way to communicate when I had a migraine.

Then I got sick.

I'm honestly not sure what's wrong with me, but in early January, I got a bad cough, asthma issues, and other various NASTY symptoms (leaving out to not get too tmi). The symptoms got worse quickly and I ended up at doctors and urgent cares and ERs. They found that I didn't have any of the major contagious things, but still my lungs were crap, my voice was nearly gone (just a whisper), and I was badly malnourished and dehydrated. One very scary phone call from a relative and two days of forcing my raw voice to work well enough to talk to police and relatives later, I lost my voice completely (save for little squeaks and rumbles). That was six weeks ago.

Winter and I didn't practice ASL the first two or three weeks I was sick (and I was honestly in no shape to do it anyway). Being mute was... okay at first. Annoying but manageable. But then as time went on, it got ROUGH. Being trapped in my own head and unable to convey things in real time took a toll on my mental health that I honestly wasn't expecting. Imaging being unable to even laugh or make frustrated noises or make sounds when you're crying hard and having a panic attack? It was hell! I couldn't got to therapy, see a doctor by myself (had to write a script for whomever came with me), contact services and doctors that didn't have messaging/email (they'd call back anyway despite me saying that I was completely unable to talk), tell people what I needed during a panic attack or sensory overload, or get my intrusive thoughts out (I say the out loud and work through them to see they aren't logical). When one doctor got really frustrated with me and proceeded to insult and lecture me for a solid 30 minutes (in front of my other friend who got very close to losing her temper), there was no way to report it because I had to CALL to place a complaint. I was limited to typing on my phone when I needed to communicate and even THAT was slow and not always possible (can't type during a coughing fit or if I had to leave my phone charging). Getting people's attention to notice me or read a message was also difficult, so I had to sit quietly AND patiently AND ignored so much of the time that I eventually broke down crying.

Eventually, I started doing a little ASL again. I wasn't expecting how hard it would be to sign things when I had only watched before. My movements were slow and clunky, sometimes I did the wrong sign, and I could only "talk" to one person, but the growing pains were worth the feeling of ACTUALLY communicating again. It's only been a few weeks, but I can already express my emotions/frustration and convey simple concepts during a conversation (instead of typing and having the conversation move on before I finish or just not feeling like my words were worth the effort on top of breaking the flow of a conversation). Yesterday, my bestie/roommate decided to start practicing the ASL alphabet and asked for a list of words I used the most so she could understand me too.

ASL has giving me back some of my autonomy. With a few signs and some finderspelling, I was able to tell Winter that I needed to eat, wanted leftovers, there was a bowl in the fridge, and to please add water (easier to swallow with my irritated throat). I can ask how people are, tell them how I'm doing, or just be a little goofy because I want to (like quoting NADDPOD and telling my friends "fuck you, I love you, eat a rat").

While being unable to talk for 6 weeks (and limited a bit before that) is nothing compared to the experiences of the deaf/Deaf, mute, and nonverbal communities, it made me realize how hard it is to navigate the world when your speech is impaired. It also made me develop a new appreciation for ASL. Originally, learning ASL was a novelty to me that might come in handy when I had a hemiplegic migraine (makes it hard to talk), but it was mostly to help Winter in her studies. Now it just feels... important. Like something more people should learn, be aware of, and accomodate for.

Tldr; Being unable to talk for over 6 weeks (and probably many more weeks after that) made me realize how important being able to communicate is to mental health, how society is not made to accomodate people with limited to no verbal communication ability, why learning ASL is so important, some of the struggles that people with limited to no verbal communication go through, and the fact that I am privileged in a way that I've never considered before.

[itsalwayssunnyindesertbluffs]

I've discovered that in this body, it's possible to laugh so hard that I give myself an asthma attack. This is the worst timeline actually.

[luveline]

summer shower [Fred Weasley x reader]

Summary: Fred makes your asthma play up.

Tags: reader-insert, fluff, friends-to-lovers, pining, mutual pining

word count: 1.3k

When you were just turning 21 years old, you met a boy. He was in his third year to your second of university, funny as could be, and beautiful.

Fred Weasley was a man of many secrets, which you'd come to accept the longer you'd known him. You had no idea where he was from, where his parents lived, or even if he had any family. You didn't know where he'd gone to school before this. You certainly didn't know why he liked pumpkin pie so much!

There were many things you did know.

His eyes turned from brown to almost black in the sun, superheated and lovely. He squinted one eye against the sun when you lounged in the courtyards in an endearing attempt to always keep an eye on your face. He never crushed flowers when he walked and he always trapped spiders in a cup with a piece of card instead of killing them, seeming endlessly bemused at the small creatures.

It was a warm summers day. You were trying your hardest not to smile as he lay in the grass. Your friends had all departed, claiming headaches and essays that needed to be submitted, though you thought these were all just white lies to allow you some alone time.

It didn't matter. No amount of free time would finish the game between the two of you. Well, you hoped it was a game: Fred pretended he didn't fancy you and you pretended you didn't fancy him.

You shared a tenderness with him that was unlike any relationship in your life.

He was smirking up at you.

"What?" You asked, pouting playfully.

"You look like you're trying to solve world hunger," he said through a grin.

You shook your head, fixing your gaze back down on the book in your lap.

"Maybe one day," you said without looking up.

Fred laughed. It was a perfect laugh, infectious and happy. You smiled despite your best efforts not to.

The pages were thin between your fingers, almost a thousand condensed into a 3 inch textbook for your course. The tip of your pencil rested against the page, though sometimes it felt appropriate to bring it to your mouth, contemplative. Fred watched silently as you underlined and questioned the subject, only quirkiness an eyebrow as your frustration became obvious.

"I don't understand," you admitted finally, "how that is relevant to anything. Look at this!"

You poked your pencil angrily at the figure in question. Fred's eyebrows creased as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Doll, you know I don't understand a lick of it."

You sighed, closing the textbook mournfully. It didn't surprise you that Fred couldn't understand, you couldn't understand and you were actually taking the course for the last two and a half years. He was doing a completely different subject.

You threw yourself down flat, much too close to where Fred himself lay on the grass, knocking the air out of your lungs. You tried not to get too wound up, worried any agitation would cause a flare up.

You'd had a very bad asthma attack only a few days ago and had spent a day or two feeling very fragile and sorry for yourself. You didn't want a repeat.

The grass was cold and a little damp from the early morning dew.

You nibbled at your lip, searching the sky for something it couldn't give.

Fred was watching you.

"Oh my god! What do you want, you hooligan?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "You looked at me."

"You were looking at me!"

"Doesn't sound true. Falsehoods of such a nature are unkindly and uncouth."

"You're uncouth!"

"Yeah?" Fred asked, eyes hot.

Your mouth dried up. He was especially tempting like this, looking all homegrown and hand spun. His hair was lightened by the sun cover, strawberry blonde against his tanned and freckled face. Tanned now only after months of suffering sun burn miserably.

"I know what you're thinking." He said. You paid close attention to his mouth.

"Which is?"

"How did I get to be so devilishly handsome? Honestly, it's a question I ask myself often."

You withheld the urge to turn your face into the earth and scream.

He wasn't entirely wrong. You had been thinking about his good looks.

"How did you know?" You asked. You'd tried for bravado, for sarcasm, but it came out wrong. A little too sincere. You cleared your throat.

Fred pushed up onto an elbow so that he was looking down into your face. He studied the slope of your nose and the laugh lines you'd slowly gathered since meeting him. He reached forward, too slowly, to place the pads of his fingers gently on your cheek. You could pinpoint the exact moment he rested his palm on your skin.

He smiled gently. You beamed.

"Can I ask you something?"

You tried to read his face, preemptively guess the question.

"When do you ask my permission?"

"It's the kind of thing that requires two consenting parties."

Your mouth quirked into a waiting grin. Fred's ears grew red.

"Not that."

"Fred Weasley, embarassed. Somebody call the news."

He didn't answer, pushing the hair out of your face in a repetitive motion that sent tingles down your spine and a hot flush to your tummy.

You tried not to read into it, closing your eyes against the waves of excitement and happiness roiling through you. You didn't permit yourself to think of what it meant, because what else could it mean? Friends don't do the things you both did. Friends didn't gaze down into your face with unspoken feelings.

You lay there for some time, the excitement slowly turning to bone deep contentment, feeling yourself drift into an almost sleep. The breeze was soft and sweet, the ground beneath you cushioned by grass, and the handsome man hovering above you only sweetened the deal.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm," you said, tilting your chin to prompt him to continue.

"Will you look at me a second?

You opened your eyes obligingly.

"I wanted to ask you, do you -"

He cut himself off, peering up into the sky. You frowned, only to feel the unwelcome spatter of heavy sudden rain drops on your face.

You gasped, rushing to collect all of your things into your bag. Your textbook was already dampening by the time you'd fit it all. Fred pulled you up and began to run. You followed, laughing and struggling to be heard over the summer shower.

By the time you reached his dorm building, both of you were breathing hard. Fred said something through a laugh. You struggled to answer, hands on your knees.

"Y/N?"

Despite having asthma all your life and suffering many attacks, each time felt just as urgent and scary as the first.

Your eyes filled with tears.

"You're okay! You're okay. Where's your pump, huh? In your bag?"

He didn't wait for an answer, reaching into your bag as you gasped, though insistent on leaving one arm on your arm. The pressure was reassuring.

You tried to manage your breathing as you always did, gasping and gasping and gasping.

"Here, princess. Open up," Fred said.

You covered the hand he held your inhaler with your own, clamping down on his hand so hard you could feel the fine bones under his skin.

It took a while for you to settle down, thought this attack wasn't anywhere as bad as the one you'd had days ago.

"My hero," you coughed out, lungs aching.

Fred grimaced. "I'll always rescue you, my femme fatale."

"Misogynist."

"You have paper lungs, my love."

"That I do, Freddie. That I do."

Fred rubbed your back, insisting on carrying you up the steps to his dorm room. If you acted much more frail than you felt, it was nobodies business but yours and Fred's.

[nonbinaryeddiekaspbrak]

ek playlist sentence starters part two

info: sentence starters from my eddie kaspbrak playlist; part one :

arms tonite - mother mother

"i fell in your arms tonight"

"hey, you, don't you think it's kinda cute that i died right inside your arms tonight?"

"i try hard to get back inside your arms alive"

asthma attack - noahfinnce

"i am the physical embodiment of everything i never wanted to be"

"what am i supposed to do when i'm so see through?"

"i had never thought that life would be like this"

"don't ask me all these bloody questions, i'll get arsey"

"you think i know myself, well you'd be mostly wrong"

for him - troye sivan

"whatever i lack, you make up"

"we make a really good team"

"you don't have to say i love you to say i love you"

"all i need is you"

"we're like two halves of one heart"

if i killed someone for you - alec benjamin

"i'm sorry that i did this, the blood is on my hands"

"i stare at my reflection, i don't know who i am"

"i did it all for her"

"would you love me more if i killed someone for you?"

"would you hold my hand?"

"would you hide me when my face is on the news?"

"i'm driving through the suburbs, wearing my disguise"

"i've gotta ask you something could you please let me inside?"

"no i wouldn't tell you lies"

"the one i killed is me"

"i hope it makes you happy cause there's just no turning back"

nobody - mitski

"my god, i'm so lonely"

"venus, planet of love was destroyed by global warming"

"did its people want too much?"

"i don't want your pity"

"i just want somebody near me"

give me one good honest kiss and i'll be alright"

"still nobody wants me"

comfort crowd - conan gray

"this hurt that i'm holding's getting heavy"

"i'ma keep a smile on my shoulders till i'm sweaty"

"by the time they're there i've already hid the body"

"my breath's getting short and i'm unsteady"

"wellin' up in tears as i lay upon your belly"

"i'm fine, i don't really need nobody"

"you say through a sigh that i said that lie already"

"i just needed company now"

"i just needed someone around"

"we rot thinking lots about nothing"

" i could spend a lifetime sitting here talkin'"

"say you like your shirt soggy"

"we mess around and laugh too loud"

"we try to hide when people are around"

"by blood we're bound"

adult nightmares - cyberbully mom club

"every time that i wake up i'm always scared to show my face around this place"

"the world seems so unsafe"

"every time that i dream bad i'll stay in my room just in case"

"i always dream so fucking slow"

"look around the dark so anxiously then back to sleep i go"

"won't you let them know"

"i just want them to go away"

"i can hardly sleep as it is"

[natache]

Ita Rina

First and Forgotten Yugoslav Film Star who provocated Gestapo

Ita Rina was born on 7 July 1907 in the small town of Divača (then Austro-Hungarian Empire, later Yugoslavia, now Slovenia) as Italina Lida Kravanja. She was called Ida Kravanja for short. She was named after a journalist Finzi Haydée, Jewish family friend from Trieste. The first daughter of Jožef a railroad worker and Marija Kravanja, Rina had a younger sister Danica. Shortly after the outbreak of the World War I, the family moved to Ljubljana, where Rina matriculated in 1923. She was not a good student; she repeated the third grade of elementary school. However, her dream was to be an actress.

In October 1926, Slovenski narod (Slovenian People) magazine organized a beauty pageant, and Rina entered the competition. She was crowned Miss Slovenia and was to travel to the final event for Miss Yugoslavia, which was supposed to be held on 20 December 1926 in Zagreb. However, her mother did not want to let her go to Zagreb. After a group visit from the Slovenian delegation, Marija Kravanja relented. Unfortunately, when Rina arrived in Zagreb, the jury was already choosing the most beautiful of three finalists. She was, however, noticed by Adolf Müller, the owner of Balkan Palace cinema in Zagreb. He immediately sent her photographs to German film producer Peter Ostermayer. As her mother did not want to let her go to Berlin, Rina ran away from home.

Her escape was enabled by a family friend, a painter Alojz Malota and his wife Hedvig Šarc. They invited her to come with them on a trip to Austria, and instead she went to Berlin. She has said that she felt very lonely and scared during the train ride and thought about returning home.

“That was my longest and hardest journey. I huddled myself in a corner of a coupe and looked around myself in fear. I only knew few words in German...”

Rina arrived in Berlin in 1927. Shortly after she had her first audition, following which she had classes in acting, diction, dancing.

"They would shine a spotlight on me" she later said "cameras would buzz. There were cables everywhere. Some complete strangers would stare at me, whispering amongst themselves. They told me to scream, to laugh, wave and cry. I think I looked most natural in scenes where I was crying. All I had to do was remember how far away from home I've gone and how I've deceived my mother."

"You don't know how to walk!" a director was yelling. I've dedicated all my strength on walking as gracefully as possible, and I thought to myself "how's it possible that I, who have climbed Triglav thrice, all of sudden am incapable of walking." I must admit, first few steps on film were harder than any danger definitely mountaineering.

After several small film roles in 1927 and 1928, the critics finally noticed her in the 1928 film The Last Supper. The same year, Rina met at a Yugoslav embassy party, her future husband Miodrag Đorđević, a shy engineering student from Belgrade, son of a general director of the Royal Post Office.

He asked her out to dinner in a little more upscale restaurant. What he would find out later is that his students account was not enough to pay for the meal. He went to the phone in an attempted to call a friend who could lend him money. Ita figured out what was going on, and since she was already rich, secretly passed him a few bank notes, to spare him the embarrassment. She always liked him, and they understood each other well.

 

Around that time newspapers in Yugoslavia started to sensationalize her love life, as a counter she published an open letter.

Cenjeni g. urednik!

Vsikdar sem bila ljubeznjiva napram g. dopisniku Vašega lista. Želela sem na ta način izražati simpatije, ki sem jih gojila do “Vremena”. Toda nežentlementski dopis Vašega dopisnika od 15. t. m. je zlorabil to mojo ljubeznivost in me prisilil, da Vas naprošam zaradi istine za uvrstitev naslednjih vrstic: Prišla sem domov na oddih, da se pripravim za bodoče delo, ne pa da se zaljubljam kakor goska. Zaradi tega ne potrebujem nikakih senzacij, zlasti pa ne senzacij, ki gredo preko meja dopustnega. Čudim se prostosti, ki si jo jemlje g. Ambrož, da izmišlja kar imena mojih idealov. Prava senzacija bi bila šele, ko bi g. Ambrož nekoliko srečneje uganil moje ideale. Kar pa piše g. Ambrož, je bilo doslej meni in vsem mojim znancem docela neznano. Odpotovala bom tedaj, ko me pokliče novo delo. Senzacijonalni odhod avtomobilov itd. je prosta glupost. 

Da končam. Žal mi je, da se je edini g. O. Ambrož smatral za najpametnejšega od vseh tukajšnjih novinarjev in da je segel po tako nehvaležnem poslu. Naši javnosti je treba servirati resnico o mojem delu in moji osebi, ne pa glupih izmišljotin. Prejmite g. urednik izraze itd.

Ita Rina.

Her breakthrough into European stardom came after taking a role in a controversial film Erotikon by a Czechoslovakian director Gustav Mahaty. As soon as she read the script about a seduced and then abandoned daughter of a guard of a railroad station, she understood it as her big chance, and she was right.

Erotikon premiered in Prague. Czechoslovakian censors cut out the scene of her giving birth to a child, but the movie garnered great success with film critics and audiences across Europe. At the premiere in Paris in Moulin Rouge and the film goers carried her out of the theatre on their hands.

The films success angered the puritans. Especially the french catholic theologian, abbot Betteleme who wrote: "... First, they lie next to each other, and then one to another ... It is true that the cover hides their figures, but it certainly does not hide their movements... The protagonists are shown in particularly long shots, especially Ita... A viewer can recognize her excitement, then her expression of anxiety mixed with longing, then the pain and at the end... I blush while describing the scenes". He went though streets of Paris tearing down the posters that were plastered all over. That only raised the popularity of the film.

In 1930, Rina acted in three films, most notable being the first talking Czechoslovakian film Tonka of the Gallows, which is often named her best role. Meanwhile, she married Miodrag Đorđević in 1931. Although she had announced her retirement from her film career, but she actually continued her acting until the outbreak of World War II. Her last prewar film was crime drama Zentrale Rio.

The situation in Germany was getting tense, especially for anybody who was considered undesirable which included actors who were foreign. She left Germany on the insistence of the then ambassador of Yugoslavia Ivo Andrić. In 1939, very close to the start of WW2 every time she went to work or went home, there was a man who sat in the car. In the beginning he was very quiet and she thought he was an assistant of the producer and that he might represent some new custume, a way of saying thanks to the actors. And then he spoke. At first there were talks of the superiority of the German race, but later his changes because more apparent. "I argued with him in that car" she told to the operator in the studio and retold him the whole conversation. "How could you have dared, that man is from Gestapo." said the operator. The story was retold to Ivo Andrić, and he ordered her and her husband to urgently leave Germany. The taping of the film was mostly done. That night they packed all of their belongs. In the morning she taped a few leftover scenes and absconded for Belgrade that same day.

"Only on the road I understood what's going on. Tanks everywhere, soldiers."

They went to live in Belgrade. She didn't act as the war was starting to rage and had her first child Milan in 1940 and thee years later a daughter Tijana. Her in-laws disagreed with the marriage to a controversial actress at first. And they had a permanent table for themselves and their friends at the local tavern.

After the bombing of Belgrade they moved to Vrnjačka Banja. Life during wartime was hard and she laboured and sold all of her possessions to keep family fed. She even rescued her husband from jail where he landed after he, in a tavern proclaimed that Hitler will have the same fate Napoleon did in Russia.

They moved back to Belgrade after the end of World War II in 1945. Although she was promised several roles in Yugoslav films, all projects were cancelled and she was treated unfavorably. After receipt of a letter she had written to President Tito, Rina began working as a co–production advisor in Avala Film. But she soon left Avala Film and moved to Lovćen Film.

She returned to the silver screen once, in the 1960 film War, about nuclear war fallout, directed by Veljko Bulajić. This was her last role. She got her role not though a studio, but through her husband asking nicely.

“Before the shooting of the film War began, I was approached by a very likable gentleman, that was the husband of Mrs. Ita Rine Miodrag, and in a very discreet, shy way, asked if we can talk and during that conversation, suggested to cast Ita. Honestly speaking, I have already completely forgotten about her. There was war, and they she didn't work for a very long time. She wasn't listed anywhere in cinematography as an active actress. I remembered her from her films. I suggested we meet. So we met, I don't know where in Zagreb or Belgrade, I cannot remember, but she impressed me. She made a strong impression, of a smart woman, an actress who didn't want to be in a film for no other reason, but to be filmed. She wanted to know about her role. I really liked that, so we made a deal.” 

As she suffered from asthma, Rina and her husband moved to Budva (then Yugoslavia, now Montenegro) in 1967. There, she took care of her husband, who was ill with sclerosis. Rina died on 10 May 1979 from an asthmatic attack during the great earthquake that leveled the capital of Montenegro. She was buried a few days later in Belgrade, in the presence of numerous film artists, admirers, friends and family. Her husband died next year.

Best source is in Slovene here:

[getyouasenju]

Dragging It In.

Part 3/3 to the “Dragging” series

Part 1 “Dragging Along”

Part 2 “Dragging Away”

Warnings: some small spoilers, curse words, some suggestive themes, angst, (maybe some spelling errors I’m sorry!).

Word Count: 3.7k

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹

“(Y/N)”

I could hear my name being called from my slumber. I felt sore all over, my head was throbbing and my throat was entirely too dry to function. Being a shinobi I was no stranger to the scratchy unbelievably tightly tucked sheets and the sterile smell. I was in a hospital for what ever reason. I hear my name being softly called again. Forcing my sore eyes open I see my pink haired friend peering over my bed. Scrunching my eyes in reaction the sudden change of lighting caused a searing pain in my head. Crossing her arms and glaring at me, Sakura spoke sarcastically, “It hurts doesn’t it? That’s what happens when you leave a head injury untreated after a mission”. My eyes widen and I stared at her cheekily. She smiled sweetly back at me... too sweet for the friend I know. I didn’t even get a chance to brace myself before she struck me.

“CHA!”

I hiss and grab my now stinging shoulder. “God damn it Sakura, I’m in a hospital bed for fucks sake! Do you strike all your patients?” She crossed her arms and smiled at me, “Only the ones I’m best friends with that promise to see me in the morning to get checked out and then never show up! I mean come on (Y/N), how hard of a hit did you take on that mission to have to put you out of commission like this?” I thought back to the rainy mission and sighed, rubbing my shoulder I looked at my friend “Not that hard... only hard enough to lose consciousness..” grinning I laughed nervously as she started balling her fist again.

“Hey! you can’t hit me again, I have a head injury Sakura- god!” I cried out bracing myself this time. “That shoulder looks pretty fine to me!” Sakura replies brushing some of her hair out of her face. “Not-uh it’s pretty bruised now if you ask me.” I whined back, praying she doesn’t strike again. Can I get a new nurse that isn’t my worried friend? “That’s why you have two shoulders!” I paled as my eyes widened. “Sakura, please!” She quickly put one hand on her hip, the other pointing at me “Don’t Sakura me! You could’ve done some real damage (Y/N)! and don’t think I don’t see that your ring is missing!” So all of our friends are just gonna get dragged into this mess huh? .... Maybe I should just simply pass out again.

Between our bickering the door croaked open and in walks the shadow man. Sakura whips around placing her hands on her hips. “Excuse me Shikamaru, It’s not visitors hours yet, you just can’t waltz in here anytime you like, fiancé’s included!” I scoffed laying back and tugging the blankets further up my body. Didn’t just mention she noticed the missing ring? I already told him I didn’t want to speak with him... and he still smelled like cigarettes! This was a hospital, he’s gonna give someone an asthma attack. I turned my head to fully examine the Nara. He looked as bad as I felt, dark circles an unbuttoned vest and a loosened ponytail. As he should!

Sighing deeply while still holding the door handle, Shikamaru looks at Sakura pleading with his eyes. Taking her hands off her hips, Sakura looks at me then back at Shikamaru, I could see the gears turning in her head. Crossing her arms and sighing, “Just this once Nara! I’ll be back later (Y/N), I’ll bring an ice pack for that shoulder!” She laughs while giving my hand a friendly squeeze. Giving me her signature smile, she departs waving at Shikamaru on the way out.

As he watches her close the door, he turns to the right and grabs the chair in the corner. The sound of the dragging was highly irritating and I rolled my eyes as I fought the urge to pull the blankets over my head and just ignore the man. He pulls the chair to my bedside and sits down trying to make eye contact with me andI was refusing to give it to him. Sighing again he leaned back in the chair. 

“You had some head injuries, you should be fine but you should’ve went to the hospital immediately after that mission, and that fall made it worse.” He sounded strained. I just nodded at him, thinking back to the mission and how outnumbered my team was. “You know, I was terrified when you went down like that.” He let out a shaky sigh putting his hands together in his lap. “Why didn’t you go in (Y/N)- god” He drags his hands down his face, “Are you doing this to spite me? Not going to be seen, then going and asking for a dangerous mission. Are you trying to get yourself killed?” I sat up straight in my bed and finally made the eye contact that he was searching for. 

“I went home first because I missed you, I hadn’t seen you in over a fucking month!” letting out a humorless laugh I continued, “I didn’t avoid being seen to spite you, I went home first instead of being seen because you’re my first priority- but apparently I wasn’t yours.” Asking for that mission though was just a tad bit spiteful though, but I’m in no position to admit to that! By the end of my rant I wanted him out, I was tempted to hit the call button. I could feel the anger in the air from both of us. He broke the silence first. “You should trust me, you know nothing would ever happen between Temari and I, I’m with you, I’ve been with you for the last four fucking years!” I was livid, trust him? I do fucking trust him!

“I trust you Shikamaru, you don’t trust me because if you trusted me, you would’ve told me why you went to see her and you wouldn’t of left without making things right with me first.” He reaches for my hand, but I snatched it away shoving it under the blankets, he looked so crestfallen. He opens and closes his mouth several times before scooting his chair closer to my bed.

“Please give me your hand, (Y/N). Please don’t make me beg.”

I was hesitant, I didn’t know if I wanted to be touched by him at the moment but, he looked determined and I was nervous. I pulled my hand from under the blanket and he quickly reached for it. Grabbing my smaller hand in his larger calloused one, he let out a content sigh slowly rubbing circles on the back of my hand, moving almost impossibly slower when grazing over the bare left ring finger. “What do I have to do to get this ring back where it belongs.”

“Shikamaru I question your IQ everyday, don’t play stupid with me.”

I slowly start to retract my hand but his grip on me tightens ever so slightly. “I already have a head injury, can you stop making my brain hurt more? Either tell me why you ran to her side or let me and my hand go. Now.” I groaned out, I was getting annoyed, and fast. When was Sakura coming back with that ice pack again? The pain in my shoulder was dull now, but boy can that girl pack a punch and Shikamaru might as well be punching me in my brain right now.

When he suddenly let go of my hand, my heart started to race. Was he going to leave again? If he left me again then I knew for sure that we just weren’t meant to be. I laid back, I just wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. More so, I want him to stop dragging this out. I opened my mouth to dismiss him when he suddenly spoke “Rasa”.

...Rasa, the fourth Kazekage. Also the father of the sand siblings, but what about him. I was just outright confused now. “Shikamaru, can you elaborate?” He straightened up looking for that eye contact again, this time I granted it to him. “It was the anniversary of Rasa’s death” grabbing for my hand again he continued. “Temari is here on the account of business between the leaf and the sand. This is the first time she wasn’t with Gaara and Kankuro during this time.” he sighed deeply. 

“He wasn’t always the best father but he was all they had, not being with her siblings for this affected her deeply. She’s the eldest and her siblings mean everything to her, they always have, she wants them to be able to depend on her. I’m the person she’s closest to in the leaf, so she called me.” he finished. Now I was even more confused. Why didn’t he just say that? “So you left me without explanation for what? You couldn’t just say this to me?”.

“I didn’t think you would understand.” I was baffled. He thought of all people that I wouldn’t understand. “You didn’t think I would understand, or is it that you didn’t want me to understand, Shikamaru.” I snatch my hand back again, this time for good. “I watched you mourn for your father after the war. You held it together on the field but I saw what it did to you after!” I rushed the words out so fast I felt like I was running out of breath but I went on, “I held Yoshino as she cried, I saw what it did to her, how it drained her, how it almost ruined her!” My head was throbbing again but I wasn’t done yet. “Tell me Shikamaru, did you run into my parents on the way here? how about someone from my clan, some siblings of mine? Please tell me they came to see me in my time of need Shikamaru!” I let out a pitiful laugh, “It’d be a miracle if you did, considering they’re all six feet under.” I let my shoulders drop as I leaned back staring straight ahead of me. There had to be more to it than this.

In a small voice I whispered to him, “You don’t think I have it in my heart to let someone who has experienced a loss have some comfort?”. I wanted to cry, more importantly I wanted him gone, at least my head did. He said nothing, but he doesn’t get to sit at my bedside in silence after this. I spoke again, still looking straight ahead, “Get out Shikamaru. You have my permission to leave this time, I won’t be mad. You’re giving me a migraine,” He still doesn’t move, so I whip my head around, I was tired. “Why are you pretending to fight so hard for us? Just admit you’re not as in love with me as you think you are”. I could hear my own heartbeat as I looked at Shikamaru. “It’s okay If you’re in love with Temari, I’ll be fine Shika. You can let me go.” If I had to let him go for his happiness, I was okay with that. He finally snaps his eyes me.

“I’m not in love with Temari, (Y/N).” How can he sit here and be so fucking vague with me? I felt not only emotionally exposed but physically as well with the tiny hospital gown. I wrap my arms around myself since I was the only comfort I’ve had these past few days. “There’s something there , I just wish you would be honest with me. If you’re not happy with me, then just let me go.” I was speaking as softly as I could, trying best to keep my voice from shaking. What kind of person did he think I was if he thought I lacked that much sympathy? I was a shinobi, but I wasn’t heartless. I at the very least expected him to know that.

“Temari will always have a spot in my heart,”

There it was, I didn’t want to hear anymore of it. when I said let me go, I didn’t mean give me a speech to verbally break my heart, he could easily just leave the room. Did he think I was going to listen to his confessions? wrong! I reach my hand out for the call button, if Sakura wasn’t coming back anytime soon, then someone else needed to come and rescue me, immediately. I felt his warm hand gently grab mine. “no more running, no more arguing, no more beating around the bush. Just you and I.” he sighed as he looked right into my eyes. He stands up and nudges me, signaling for me to scoot over giving him a spot on the bed. I felt conflicted, I really did love this man. We’ve shared our love and our lives for four years, but even before that I loved him. He could sense my hesitation and smoothes my hair down gently with his hand while gently nudging me over again. I give into the raven haired man and slowly slid to the right side of the bed making sure my IV’s were out of his way, the motion causing the back of my gown to open a bit to which I quickly pulled closed.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before” He smirked at me. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I ball the blanket in my hands. This isn’t the time for cheeky jokes! I was flustered and honestly feeling pretty vulnerable. His chuckle wasn’t helping the situation too much either. How dare he joke with me at a time like this! My shoulder was still throbbing but that didn’t stop me from attempting to smack the man. I winced as my hand hit something hard and glared at Shikamaru. Looking at me warily, he pulled out the pack of cigarettes and rubbed the back of his neck “You know I smoke when I’m stressed.” I remember when he picked up the nasty habit, and then I remembered why he did. I felt immediately guilty for contributing to that... but still the smell of cigarettes was just so gross. 

He leans back, slowly starting to snake his arm around my waist while watching my facial expressions for a reaction. When he saw me make no attempt to remove him, he sighed and pulled my body into his. “I missed you.” he quietly tells me... funny how he misses me, but me missing him is what got us into this entire situation. I decide to keep my thoughts to myself and train my eyes on the corner of the blanket I was currently picking at. I could feel him staring at me. 

“I remember when Asuma died.” My breath caught in my throat and I immediately dropped the blanket I was picking at. I didn’t know where this was going, but I knew it was going to be a painful ride. I felt him tilt his head as he continued, “I held it in for a long time. It took my father to pull it out of me.” I knew the story, I wasn’t too close with Shikamaru at the time, but a bond between a student and their sensei is strong. I didn’t have to know them, to know that. “Point of the story is I didn’t feel comfort in anyone... so I held it in, I felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. I didn’t want anyone to coddle me, not even Temari and at that point in time, I was in love with her. I think I’ve only ever cried twice in my life in front of an audience.” He let out a sigh. By now I was fully looking up at him with curious eyes.

“When my father died in the war, I wanted to do the same. I held that pain in for my comrades, I didn’t want my fathers, nor Ino’s, deaths to be in vain.” He takes his other hand and grips my chin continuing on. “When the war was over I didn’t want to face it, but I had you. If it weren’t for you and Naruto, I don’t know how my mother would’ve made it another day.” He starts to smile a bit at me, “and suddenly I wanted to be coddled. I wanted you to hold me, to talk to me, to force me to eat when I didn’t want to, to be there when I slept and when I woke. I found comfort in you, and I still do.” He was stroking my cheek by now. “You made me realize that sometimes, It’s okay to coddle those in need. That sometimes even the strongest shinobi need a hug, need to shed some tears or just simply need some comfort. So, yes I went to comfort Temari but that was it, I finally understood how to give what you give me everyday.” 

He moved me almost impossibly closer to him “I was a fool to think the most comforting woman in the world wouldn’t understand grief when she has had a handful of it herself.” By the end of his speech my head injury was long forgotten, I had an aching heart. “I can’t believe I let the most important person in my life down. The person who gives me the most security asked for just a bit of it and I refused it to give it to her like an idiot.”

“Please hear me when I say this, there was a time in my life where I thought Temari and I were meant to be, but I know there is a lifetime where you and I belong together. You are it for me, nothing happened.” He tilted my head, searching my face for a reaction when the first tear ran down my face. Shikamaru was taken back and seemed a little panicky at the sight of me crying. I’d have to be heartless to not shed a tear for that confession, this man was everything I’ve ever wanted and I’d be lost- I’d been lost without him.

I reach arms up and around his neck as he brushes the tears from my eyes. “Shikamaru please don’t scare me like that ever again, I won’t make it to the wedding day if I die of a heart attack.” Burying my face into his shoulder, I ignore the smell of cigarettes. I could feel him release a breath of air at my proclamation, squeezing me tighter in return. Suddenly he’s pushing me off and scrambling off the bed, but I didn’t understand. I thought we were making up and there he goes running off again! “Shika, didn’t I just tell you not to scare me again? Hey! get back over here!” I told him slightly out of breath from the change in position and pouting.

I had put myself in an upright position watching as he frantically searched through his pockets with his back to me. Sighing in relief as he finally found what he was looking for, he quickly turned back to me and dropped to his knee. My ring! “(Y/N), please don’t ever make me take this ring back again, I don’t know if my heart could take it. Will you please be my fiancée again?” He was proposing to me again! I quickly nod my head shoving my bare ring finger in the cloud gazing man’s face as he returned it back to its rightful spot and we sealed it with a kiss. A knock at the door separated us.

Sakura came in pushing a cart, “Just coming by to change (Y/N)’s IV dressing!” Shikamaru takes a step back, taking a seat in the chair by my bedside as Sakura moves in close. Gently grabbing my hand, she started changing the IV dressing, of course it was the left one. I could feel her smirking at my hand. “That’s a nice ring there (Y/N), is it new!?” the medical genius teased me snickering. She knew we would make up. I couldn’t help but laugh with her. “Yeah, Shikamaru just gave it to me, isn’t it cute?” I joked back. letting out a complete and full laugh now, the pink haired woman agreed while Shikamaru face palmed. “Who knew you’d be able to get two proposals out of this lazy one!” Shikamaru was full on groaning at this point.

Another knock on the door lead to a huge bouquet with some legs poking out from under it! Ino! “I didn’t know which arrangement you’d like best so I decided to bring you all of them!” Ino was the sweetest girl and I was grateful that Shikamaru had brought us together. “Here Shikamaru, hold these!” Ino drops the bouquet into the Nara’s lap and moved to hug Sakura and then me. Another loud groan was released from the shadow man. “Was all of this really necessary Ino? (Y/N) is getting discharged tomorrow.” Shikamaru complains holding onto the heavy arrangements.

“Get used to looking at arrangements Shika! You’ll get your fair share when we’re planning our wedding.” I smirk and wink at my fiancé dearest as the two women shriek and join hands. “You’re starting the wedding planning?!” Sakura says dreamily as I nod, “Yep, want to start my lifetime with that one soon”. I reply smirking at my soon to be husband. “About time! I’m on flower duty!” Ino proclaims. I just nod my head in agreement, stuck in a staring contest with Shikamaru.

“How troublesome... you two are going to turn my girlfriend into a bridezilla.” He smirks and lets out his typical sigh.

“Not-uh, I’m not your girlfriend Shikamaru, I’m your fiancée, remember?” Using his own line on him I giggled. We smiled so hard at each other that I swore my cheeks were going to cave in.

“How about a spring wedding?!” Sakura shrieks, “With roses!” Ino excitedly adds.

I was so grateful for everyone in that room, and I couldn’t wait to drag Shikamaru back into our home where we belonged, together.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹

The Final part of the “Dragging” series guys! I’m still new and learning so Imma just apologize If you hated it lolll. Not sure if I’ll do anything else with this series, I might do a different series! feel free to message me!

Until Next Time! xxo (▰∀◕)ﾉ

[plaidbooks]

Asthma

A/N: This is a Sonny Carisi x reader fic and as the title may suggest, it’s about asthma! I have asthma, and something like this happened to me (thank god for friends who know how to use inhalers). Please be aware that not all asthma works like this, and it’s highly specific to myself and how my asthma is. anyways, hope y’all enjoy.

P.S. I have a headcanon that Sonny switches to Italian when stressed/upset/scared because it calms him down

Tags: asthma attacks/lack of oxygen, near-death experiences

Words: 1722

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @barbasimp @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

Translations: Merda = shit

Fanculo = fuck

Stai bene? = are you ok?

come funziona di nuovo? = How does this work again?

Non farlo di nuovo! = Don’t do that again!

~~~~~~~~~~ 

You had been running around all day in the New York City heat and humidity, your lungs burning as you finally made it home. You’d think after living here for so long, you’d be used to the oppressive air by now, but you still had breathing issues. Which is why you had two albuterol inhalers for your asthma—one in your purse and one on the counter in the kitchen. Your kitchen was in the middle of your apartment and made the most sense logistically as to where to keep it—it was the perfect distance whether you were coming from the bedroom or the living room.

You had only really had a bad asthma attack once before, and you knew that you had a good 5-10 seconds before you’d lose consciousness. But that was also dependent on how much you panicked; if your brain went into overdrive, then you’d start breathing harder and you’d run out of air faster. It was all about mind over matter, but sometimes, even with mild attacks, it was hard to not panic. It was the natural response to not being able to breathe.

Collapsing onto the couch, you turned your laptop on, hoping to just relax with some funny videos on youtube for the night until your boyfriend, Sonny, came home. Since becoming an ADA, he was coming home earlier than when he was a detective. Though he usually brought cases home with him, working on the coffee table until late in the evening. You didn’t mind; at least you could sit with him, keep each other company, even talk when he wasn’t super invested. Plus, you loved when he’d stand in front of you, running you through his closing arguments or his cross as if you were a witness.

 ***********************

You lost track of time as you laughed heartily at a video, your laughter erupting out of you. You clutched your stomach in pain, tears in your eyes as you laughed. Then, you went to suck in a lungful of air. But nothing happened. You tried again and got a weird rasping sound in your throat. Your eyes went wide as you realized what had happened; you had laughed so hard, you were having an asthma attack. Panic swept through you and you sprung to your feet. But it had been a while now—seconds, though they stretched on—without air, and you were suddenly light-headed. Your lungs burned and it was like a sledgehammer was being pressed upon your chest. You gasped for breath but got nothing in return. Glancing through your fading vision at the kitchen, you took one step, then another, your senses slowly turning off before darkness overtook you.

***

Sonny walked down the hallway to the apartment he shared with you, whistling a tune. Today had gone surprisingly well, and he was off much earlier than he expected, with the weekend stretched before him. He even left all his case files at work, not bothering to work anymore once he left the office for the night.

Digging his key out of his pocket, he went to unlock the door. There was a loud thud from inside the apartment, and Sonny froze.

“Doll?” he called out. He pressed his ear to the door, his hand fumbling for the keyhole. There was no response, and it made his panic rise like bile in his throat. His hand was shaking so badly, he had to steady it with his other hand to get the key in. But in his hurry, he turned it too hard, snapping the key in the keyhole.

Sonny took a step back, braced himself, then kicked the door open, the wood splintering. He rushed in, glancing around until he found you, laying on your side, unmoving.

“Merda! Stai bene?” he asked, making his way over to you. Sonny knelt down, rolling you onto your back. Your chest was barely moving, and you were rasping with every breath. He knew about your asthma, but he had never seen you like this and had not expected it.

Sonny hurried to the kitchen, snatching your inhaler off the counter. He rushed back to you, your breathing much more shallow now, even after a few seconds.

“Fanculo, fanculo…come funziona di nuovo?” he muttered to himself, shaking the inhaler in his hand. He’d never needed to use it before, and you showed him how so long ago…. He ripped the cap off, placing it gently in your mouth. Feeling like he was hurting rather than helping, he plugged your nose as he pressed the cylinder with the medicine down, hearing the spray go into your mouth.

He waited, counting in his head to ten, all the while mumbling, “merda, merda, merda,” over and over again like a mantra. Once he hit ten, he released your nose and took the inhaler from your mouth. Slowly, you started taking deeper and deeper breaths, and your eyelids fluttered before opening.

***

Your chest was on fire and your throat burned as you came to, groggy and disoriented. Though, your mind was rushing, in the way that only your asthma medication did to you—it was a breathable steroid/adrenaline. When your eyes focused, you saw Sonny leaning over you, looking worried to death. But when he saw your eyes opened, a wide grin of relief spread across his face.

“Fanculo! Non farlo di nuovo!” he said, helping you to sit up.

You winced at the motion, giving him a look. “W-what? You’re speaking Italian, Dom.”

“I-I know…I do that when I’m scared. It calms me.”

You chuckled lightly, but grimace as pain broke through your chest. “That’s not helpful when I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Never mind; can you get up? I need to take you to the hospital—”

“No,” you replied. “I’m fine—I’ll be fine. Just���help me to the couch.”

Sonny gave you a hard look before he helped you stand, guiding you to the couch. “You should still go to the hospital; who knows how long you were on the ground without air?”

“Was I still breathing when you used the inhaler?” you asked. You held out your hand for it, and Sonny passed you the little piece of plastic that had just saved your life.

“Y-yeah, but barely—”

“Then I’m fine.” You glanced at Sonny, who was gearing up for an argument, and you sighed. “If I were to go to the hospital right now, they’ll either do nothing or just give me another dose of albuterol, Dom. Honestly, I’m fine, okay?” He still looked willing to argue, so you added, “I know it must’ve been…bad, seeing me on the ground like that. But I promise you I’m okay.”

Sonny let out a long sigh, rubbing his face with both hands. “Okay. I trust your judgement with your own medical issues.” He sat down on the couch next to you. “But run me through how to use the inhaler again—I wanna make sure I did it right. And please explain to me what the hell happened.”

You chuckled, raising the inhaler—you were going to take a second dose, anyway, to get rid of the pain in your chest. Sonny watched intently, happy to find that even in his panic, he had, in fact, done it correctly. As you held your breath, letting the medication work its way into your lungs, your eyes travelled to the front door, still ajar, the frame in pieces.

“Sonny, what the fuck?” you coughed out.

His eyes followed yours and he swallowed. “I, uh, I forgot I did that,” he replied, smiling sheepishly.

“Well now what do we do? We can’t leave our place open like this,” you glanced at the time; it was late, and no hardware store would be open for new doors. And you were pretty sure your landlord was going to be pissed.

“It’s fine; I can make it so it looks closed. If you don’t feel safe, we can go to a hotel until I fix it tomorrow,” Sonny said, standing. You nodded and he was off, packing an overnight bag for you both.

 *******************

By the time you were at the hotel, you were exhausted. The effects of the medication had run its course, and you just wanted to sleep. Sonny, of course, didn’t allow you carry anything as he led you to your room. He swiped the keycard, letting you in first, and you all but collapsed onto the bed.

“You okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Your voice was muffled as you replied, and he asked again. Turning your head to the side, you mumbled, “fine, just tired.”

“It’s late; let’s get in bed.” Sonny stripped quickly, then helped you stand, gently pulling your shirt up and off. Once in just your panties, you crawled under the covers, curling onto your side. Sonny got in behind you, wrapping himself around you. “I love you,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder.

“I love you, too, Dom,” you whispered back. Mercifully, you fell asleep almost instantly, the long day wearing you out.

But Sonny hardly slept, afraid that he’d wake up to you no longer breathing. Instead, he laid there, cradling you in his arms, listening to your soft breaths, the sound music to his ears. He dozed off and on, but mostly, he just held you, trying not to tear up as he thought about what might’ve happened if he had worked his normal hours, staying late in the office. He also thought about the other thing he packed in the overnight bag, hidden deep underneath everything else, for fear of it being stolen from your apartment as well as the fear of your finding it.

Inside a sock, rolled up and shoved underneath everything else, was a little box. And in that box was the most perfect engagement ring that Sonny knew you’d love. He’d been planning to propose around your birthday, but now, with that near-death scare, he was thinking that he should just do it now. He was off the next two days, and you were already planning to do dinner tomorrow night. Would it be weird timing now? But at the same time, life was short; today proved that. As the sun came up, streaming through the drawn curtains, Sonny made up his mind.

[meichenxi]

*rant commencing*

ok guys let’s sit down and have a think about the way we talk to kids, particularly neurodivergent ones, and the weight it carries

the other day, I opened up to a friend about something really hurtful my best (and only) friend said to me when I was fifteen. It was a moment of emotional intimacy and the first time I had brought it up seven years later and, once again, I got laughed at and told I was too fucking sensitive

and ok maybe yeah I was a ridiculous child. I’m a ridiculous adult, that shouldn’t be surprising. But this hurt and hurt and hurt and I was trying to think about why this in particular and not anything else was so painful

so here’s the situation. at fifteen, like many smart kids, everyone thought the world was open to me. Ok I had no social skills to speak of and was ostracised by teachers and students and family, but I was an optimistic kid, and in a disaster of a home situation (involving kidnappings and court cases and running away and being out of school for a year and a brother starting drugs at 12 and living in a shelter and basically just a LOT) I was always the smiley helpful one. and apart from being defeated by very simple mechanisms like idk drawers or biscuit packets, I picked things up quickly. I took GCSEs early and extra and tutored others; I was a regional competitive swimmer in breaststroke and open water; I taught myself the flute and got into an international touring youth orchestra without lessons; I won a poetry competition for adults in primary school; I played competitive netball and was a long distance runner; I drew and sold my art; I wrote shitty novels and started making conlangs and was interviewed on bbc world about it; I loved performing and was invited to join a theatre company when I left school; and my biggest passion in the entire world apart from Tolkien was martial arts. And the best thing was for my parents - one of whom was disabled and didn’t work and the other who was a cleaner - is that I worked two paper rounds and tutored younger children and earned all of the money for it myself. blah blah blah. I was your mum’s friend’s kid. 

well, I’m a disaster adult, so you can probably guess that none of that lasted for very long. and there are gazillions of people here with exactly the same story. 

the point in question, though, was when I was fifteen and thinking about sixth form (the last two years of school in the UK) it was becoming clear alarmingly fast that you weren’t allowed to just keep doing everything you loved. at some point you had to make a choice. 

but how could I give up swimming for music? Or music for languages? Or languages for athletics? Or athletics for theatre? or, actually, all of them but one???? how did people just know what they had to do with their lives? how did they choose? 

the problem was, I said to my friend, I know I could do well at any of them, so how was I supposed to choose? (tactless and a stupid thing to say and also just not true but I was fifteen and simultaneously disgustingly cocky and cripplingly insecure) And he laughed and said, well, fuck you then. 

oh noooo. poor meeeeeee. I’m so fucking good at things what do I dooooo

I haven’t stopped thinking about that comment for seven years. Every single time I think about wasting my potential, every time I can’t sleep because I’m terrified that I’m not being productive or useful and hating myself because I’m upset that I can’t do something right away and I know it’s a stupid thing to be upset about - I think about that comment. I’m lucky. It’s alright for some. 

because, actually, being expected to know what to do with your life aged 15 is a fucking terrifying thing. we were kids at fifteen being told to make decisions as if we had all the facts, as if we weren’t also being blindfolded and spun around in circles until we couldn’t stand. Do you do what your parents say? what you think you want to do? what your teachers say? do you just stay in education even though it’s not for you because your dream is stupid, or because you don’t have a dream like everyone else seems to? are you supposed to have a dream?

*it’s NOT a stupid thing to worry about*

particularly when? well, when your entire self worth equates to the things that you output, the things that you do. so just for a moment, put yourself in the shoes of all of these wonderful, dazzling, damaged, crazy kids with big dreams and big hearts, kids that are struggling right now and kids that are our future, and imagine that you’ve been told since you were old enough to read or speak or walk that you’re just so very clever

isn’t it just wonderful how clever you are? isn’t it just great how we never need to worry about you? you’re such an easy child, it’s a blessing. always so considerate, so thoughtful, never making a fuss! isn’t it just fantastic how well you do in school? I can’t imagine what it must be like to have a child who went to all of those nasty parties. you’re so dedicated

raise your hand if you were only ever told you were good. raise your hand if you were never told you were kind. 

so, what happens? you take a child, and you tell them for its entire childhood that they’re clever. You don’t tell them that they’re creative, or hard-working, or dedicated, or driven, or helpful. You let them know that it’s ok that they’re weird, because they’re going to be successful. what do you think parents say to their kid who’s crying because she has no friends and she doesn’t understand what the other children are thinking and why they would hurt each other like that? even good parents, the very best of them, say things like: you’re just more mature than they are. it doesn’t matter. keep your head down - you’ll show them. 

your child, in the best case scenario, has access to her hyperfixation that makes the world big and bright and beautiful. she’s a bit weird, but it’s kind of cute. anyway, she’s good at it. and as long as she succeeds, conventionally, and you get to brag, then it’s ok that she’s a little bit unconventional.

and then things to break, just a little. and then, aged eleven, your child is having an asthma attack in the classroom because she got so anxious she couldn’t answer a maths question she couldn’t breathe. it’s ok, her parents tell her the next day. you’re just not good at maths - that’s alright. you don’t have to be good at everything

your child, because she’s perceptive, begins to realise that things don’t get better as you get older. people are just as cruel at 12 as they are at 7, and they’ll be just as cruel at 15. and then one day, as a bad joke because she doesn’t really understand humour, she writes a fake text to her dad from someone’s phone in legalese that actually has a secret code hidden it in that she knows her dad will crack right away because he’s brilliant. she thinks it’s hilarious. her father thinks he is being threatened, and spends the next week in meltdown, bedridden and burnt-out. and when she owns up, he turns and snaps at her, and says as if you could write something like that. an ADULT wrote this, not a fucking child

and suddenly, that cleverness they kept talking about? they don’t even understand that. 

suddenly, no one sees her at all. 

she needs to learn to be like the other kids. to be like a fucking child. and while she’s learning, she doesn’t speak for a year

that happened to me, but take your pick - I’m sure you don’t have to look far to find examples of your own. 

My point is this: if you tell a child for their entire life that the only thing that is worthy of being loved is what they achieve, if every time they do something they love you tell them oh, you could be a famous writer! you’re so talented! rather than saying that you loved listening to their story, if you only praise them when they’re good and quiet and convenient and tell them that as long as they succeed, it doesn’t matter if they don’t have friends or if they’re miserable, and THEN you tell them to choose ONE THING and drop 90% of everything that makes them who they are - 

what the hell did you THINK was going to happen??

because here’s the first thing. for many kids, whether that’s because of neurodivergence or age maturity or whatever, hyper fixations and hobbies aren’t just things they like to do. THEY ARE LIFELINES. they’re the things these kids go to when they’re hurt, angry, upset, because they make sense. for many kids, especially but not always girls, they are able to camouflage themselves and mask tendencies of neurodivergence because they’re ‘good students���. at a family gathering once, my mum, so frustrated at my inability and lack of desire to talk to any members of my extended family, snatched my German grammar book and locked it in the boot of the car. knowing that I escape and read it in the toilet was the only thing keeping me going, exhausted and stressed and overwhelmed. I vomited on the grass.

and here’s the second thing. you tell us from an early age that they only way we’ll ever be acceptable to the rest of society is if we succeed. autistic kids are fine, as long as they’re international maths olympiad champions. adhd kids are fine, as long as they’re famous athletes. if you’re obsessed with musicals that’s ok, as long as that obsession leads to a well-paying job as a successful writer on Broadway. 

and then you tell us that we only have one chance at that success? and this decision determines the rest of our lives? and that we had so much potential when we were kids, and we better not waste it now? that not everyone is so lucky to be able to choose between so many things?? 

because being asked to choose between these things isn’t being asked to choose a hobby. when the only way anyone else defines you positively is by your success in one area, that becomes your entire identity. 

so no, we’re not being too sensitive when you ask us to pick and choose what career, or what hobby to take forward. you’re not asking about hobbies. you’re asking us to choose what kind of person we want to be. you’re asking us to choose the most impactful way we can give back to the world, because we can’t waste those god-given talents. you’re asking us to figure out, still a child and hopelessly lost, what our purpose on this planet is. and you’re looking at us as if the ways that we survived all of these years, the things we clung to for comfort, are things we can just cast aside without further thought

ask me now, and I’ll tell you that’s not the way things work. we have second chances and third ones and tenth ones, we can be different things to different people and we can do different things at different parts in our lives, and be successful in different areas. life isn’t a fucking flowchart. and I’m still trying to come to terms with all the things I could have been, and my freak-outs about ‘wasted potential’ are so clockwork I could plan my calendar around them, but I’m beginning to understand that life doesn’t end when you’re twenty, or when you haven’t written a best-seller by eighteen. you have time.   

but at fifteen? at fifteen, that question broke me. 

do you know what you can do instead? you can show a little thoughtfulness. you can be kinder, and lead by example, and praise your kids when they’re kind too. when your son runs to you and shows you what you think is a better picture than you - a stick figure artisan, if you say so yourself - could ever create, you can actually just say you really like it. you can ask him if that’s him and daddy and the dog on a cloud. describe the picture back to him, and engage with this thing he’s made from his imagination - tell him the clouds he’s drawn are so big and fluffy and white, and ask if there are giant spiders living there. you know how to shut a child up? tell them yes dear, it’s wonderful. don’t be that person. promote your kid’s creativity - ask questions, have fun, play with this thing they’ve made - and not destroy it

when your daughter comes to you and shows you a song she’s written, don’t tell her she’s so talented or that she could be a musician one day. just sing along. ask her why she wrote it, and what she was thinking of when she did. ask her if she could make it different for two people singing it at the same time. 

and if your child just really, really loves maths? let them do maths. it’s ok if their interests are stereotypical - as long as they love it and it’s fun, supporting them is wonderful. the best present my father ever got me was five hours of tutoring - an introduction to linguistics!! - when I turned twelve, starting on my birthday at 8am. I had never felt so understood and so loved. 

as much as these simple things can destroy someone’s life, can stop them talking for a year, you have the chance to be that one voice of kindness that is a friend where a young person needs it most. 

for me, this was the Bus Lady. I never knew her first name because I forgot immediately and was too embarrassed to ask again, but we got the bus together for two years right before I applied to university - she was a trainee teacher at my school. she saw that I missed tutor group and sat in the corridor every morning writing, and that I ran laps for an hour every lunchtime instead of sitting alone. but she came and sat with me one morning and asked what I was doing; I was developing a new shorthand and told her so warily. 

she didn’t raise her eyebrows or say wow, that’s...that’s amazing. instead she frowned and looked at me skeptically and said ‘But why would you do that? There are plenty of functional shorthands out there - what does your shorthand have that they don’t? Tell me about it.’

I had no idea what to say

this was the first time anyone had actually ENGAGED in any capacity with what I was doing. and just like that, just by treating me seriously and asking valid questions and pointing out inconsistencies, I was a person who happened to have an idea that was in some serious need of questioning, and not a freak

there’s no way she remembers that interaction; she’s been a teacher now for year and probably doesn’t even remember who I am. But I had been this close to not going to university, to not bothering, and she made me stop, and wait a moment

she will never know the difference that that conversation and two months of kindness on the bus from a stranger made in my life. 

so let’s be kind to each other, please. let’s be forgiving. let’s challenge each other and let’s engage with kids with special interests and listen to them talk. and so to any educators or teachers or parents or even other kids, I want to say - let’s treat our words seriously and with respect, like we treat our children, because they have immense capacity to hurt, because they can be used for good. 

to any other fifteen year olds in a similar position, I just want to say: none of us here on tumblr have properly sorted our lives out, but I promise you it does get so much better.

you’re not too sensitive. you’re not a freak. you’re not only acceptable because you succeed. I know if you’re masking you feel you have to and it’s for survival, and I’m sorry, because you shouldn’t have to. and you should never, never have to think that you ‘have it good’ or that you’re lucky and are not allowed to hurt. there’s always some one who has it worse, and you can’t stop beat yourself up about that. fuck anyone who tells you otherwise. if you have gone through trauma, if you have unhealthy coping mechanisms, if you are depressed or anxious or otherwise mentally ill and some of it stems from this, I am so very very sorry. but you will be ok, even if you can’t write for a couple of years, or even if things change. you’ll get there. speaking as someone who is now writing for the first time in six years, drawing for the first time in longer, it’s scary and new and weird, but you will come out the other side. 

and you do work hard. and you are creative. and you are loved. and you are so very, very kind.

*rant over*

[slashmebois]

You make me breathless

“Hello! How are you? I hope you are very well ;) If you don't mind, could you write about Bo's reaction to an asthmatic reader? being fucking soft on him and freaking out when he tries too hard? How to mount your thigh? I suffer from asthma attacks, you know, it's hell when everyone treats me like a baby, but deep down I enjoy it, thanks in advance and see you!”

 Thank you so much for your request @ !! I hope this fits what you wanted! I kept this GN up until thigh riding, so if y’all aren’t the owners of a va-gi-na you may wanna stop reading at that point.

I’ve not written NSFW before so sorry if it’s a lil cringe haha.

Disclaimer: My only experience of asthma is a close family member who has pretty severe symptoms. If any of the information I put in is incorrect, please drop me a message and I’ll do my best to educate myself and edit the post! I used information from Asthma UK to inform my writing.

Okay first, some background.

When you first arrived in Ambrose and Bo was chasing you, he thought it was hilarious when your asthma started to act up (he’s an asshole, I’m sorry). But he did feel a little teensy bit guilty about that later…

Leading on from that, if anyone does anything that triggers your asthma, well Bo is gonna be pissed.

Both Lester and Vincent have been kicked in the ass for doing so. Vincent is just so quiet that he scared the heck out of you by accident, and Lester bought that cleaning product that sets you off because he wasn’t listening properly.

Boy really thought you needed CPR the first time you had a big attack (he just wanted an excuse to kiss you okay). He’s since learned to keep an eye on where your inhaler and Volumatic spacer are so he can grab them quick.

If you have a preventer inhaler, he tries to remind you to take it.

He’s also a little overprotective (see bullet point two) and panics a little because he doesn’t really understand that sometimes the cause won’t be obvious. He has literally run around holding up things to you and asking if that is what was causing it.

It can feel like he’s babying you since he drops whatever is happening if you get the slightest bit breathless.

But also he drops whatever he’s doing, which is kind of sweet.

Initially he got pretty proud when your symptoms triggered whilst you were getting it on. Once you’d recovered and explained it to him, he realised that whilst he loved the idea of you finding it hard to breathe around him, that maybe, just maybe it wasn’t actually a good thing.

 Tonight, was the night. You were determined. Tonight, was the night you would make Bo realise you are an independent and goddamn sexy adult who can take care of themselves.

He had been babying you all week. The pollen count in Ambrose currently was astronomical and setting off your asthma big time. You had been trying to get down and dirty, but every time you had felt your airways tightening and Bo had scrambled for your inhaler, before holding you and kissing your head. And he always refused sex after. You were pretty sure he thought that’s what was causing it at this point.

You dressed yourself in your tightest, most revealing clothes, adding a garter underneath for good luck. You felt sexy and powerful. You just hoped Vincent wasn’t chilling in the kitchen to see this. It had happened before and yes; it was embarrassing for everyone involved. Striding down the stairs you glance over to the kitchen table. Okay, phew. The coast is clear.

You’re thankful as you step into the street, that the air in Ambrose is always warm- come summer or winter. You hear the music coming from the garage before you see Bo come into view. He’s singing along, focused on the car engine in front of him. You lean against the garage door, watching him with that warm fuzzy feeling of love. You’re so thankful you found him.

He turns and jumps a little, before eyeing you up and down slowly- a devilish grin working its way onto his face.

“Well that is a nice view” he whistles, his eyes locking with yours, “what’s the occasion?”

“No occasion…just wanted to look nice for myself” you spin on the spot, giving him the full view.

“For yourself huh?”, he makes his way over to you, laying his hands on your hips and leaning in close to hum in your ear, “and could little old Bo get any of that, or are we strictly keeping this to ourselves?” he punctuates it, by pulling you close enough to feel his erection against your back.

You gasp audibly, “I guess I could share a little. Sharing is caring and all that”

His laughs rumbles, And he starts walking you towards the basement, gripping and grasping at you as he does.

By the time you reach the basement, you’re already moaning and can feel the growing arousal between your thighs. He manages to jostle the door open and picks you up, wrapping your legs round him to carry you over to the chair.

Bo, leans back and just studies you before going to town on your neck, nipping and sucking and groaning, “how the fuck did I get so lucky baby”.

You’re a mess before he’s even touched you down there, and struggling to form words, “Bo…uhh…oh my-YES”

His hands paw at your chest, kneading the flesh before moving south to cup you.

“Someone’s excited” he grins, but you can hear he’s nearly as breathless as you.

His fingers start to move down there and it’s little bits of electric. You’re panting and grabbing at his back,

“please please please”

He pulls his hand away and you groan in dismay. The sensation is quickly replaced, you squeak as he rips your bottoms off and kneels before you, putting his mouth on you and sucking hard.

You can feel yourself quickly approaching climax, but then it happens. Your throat tightens and you gasp inward, your breath not quite reaching your lungs.

Bo is immediately off you, “where’s your inhaler, where is it baby?”, he looks so worried, fuck. This is so unfair. You point over to your discarded bag and he rustles through it to find your saving grace. He tosses you the inhaler, and picks you up as you use your inhaler, placing you down in his lap.

You take breaths in, letting the medication sooth your airways until you can breathe again. All the time, Bo is muttering reassurances and sweeping you hair back from your face to kiss your eyelids.

“It’s okay baby, you’re all right. Don’t worry. We’ll get you to bed”

You can feel the angry tears threatening to spring from your eyes, “I don’t want to go to bed Bo. I am not a baby! I’m a fully grown adult and I want to fuck. Jesus!”

He stills, a little stunned, “You think I treat you like a baby?”, his tone is dark.

“Well…I…I just feel stupid.”

“Oh no, no, no. That’s fine. I can treat you different if you like”

Before you can respond he has you over his lap and his hand is coming down on your backside. You yelp in surprise, “B…Bo”

---GN ends, reader is person with vagina from here on out---

“Ah-ah, call me daddy babygirl”

You feel a shiver of delight pass through you, “yes daddy”, the groan that emits from Bo is unworldly.

He spanks you again, and you moan, squirming you legs together beneath him, “please daddy”

“Please, what?”

“Uhhhn, please touch me”

“Come sit on daddy’s knee”

You lift yourself, desperate to please him so he’d please you. You start to sit sideways across his knees, but he stops you and pulls you toward him so that you have a leg on either side of one of his knees.

Confused you start to question “what in the heck are you doing?” but before you can finish the sentence, he grinds his knee up into your core and ohhh…oh fuck, that feels good. Your legs clamp tightly around his leg, and you start to press down, “mmm. Please. Please daddy, that feels so good”.

He grinds his knee again and grabs your hips, pulling you down onto his thigh more. You don’t need more encouragement, you start moving your hips with him, mewling out his name and expletives. You leave a trail of your wetness along his leg, and fuck if that isn’t hot.

“Tell daddy how good it feels pet. Mm, you like that don’t you?”

“Daaaddy, it feels-mmmf-it feels so good.”

“Whose doing that to you?”

“Y…you are Bo. Oh my god. Oh my god. pleeeease”

Your face is flushed and your hair sticks to your forehead as you feel the mounting tightness in your stomach pooling down.

“Yeah I am baby. You gonna cum for me? Gonna make you cum just using my thigh huh?”

You try to respond but your orgasm tears through you, and you just wail in a mix of pleasure and slight pain. Your breath is short, but for a different reason this time. You’re still for a spell, trying to catch it again, and trying to decide if you’re still on this plane of existence. You realise that the whole time Bo is just staring at you, a big smile on his face.

“What?” you laugh.

“Nothing, just think I’ll have to stop treating you so precious huh? Kinda liked this side of you”

You pout, “I don’t mind you treating me a little like a baby. But only a little.”

He barks out a laugh, “Alright, alright. We’ll compromise. You can be my spoilt baby during the day”, he leans in close to your ear, his thighs movement against your slit making you jump, “but at night I’m treating you like this. You get an asthma attack, fine we’ll sort it. But I might have to punish you for making me worry”

You bite your lip, feeling a second wave of arousal hit you. Fuck, at this rate you’d be cumming a second time real soon. He catches the look in your eye, “Guess I better get to work on you again”

[get-lost-in-fanfiction]

LOST - Another Story

Rating: M

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: Here’s Confidence Man! Sawyer is all wishy washy with Amelia in this episode, but it turns out for good in the end :) Enjoy!

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Confidence Man

I’m sitting on the beach as always. My stay at the cave was less than comfortable and I don’t understand how any of those chumps think it’s a good place to “dig in.” Sawyer wasn’t around when I got back, so I changed my clothes and sat down in my usual thinking spot. I turn my head and catch a glimpse of Kate hauling bananas up the beach. Then it hits me, Confidence Man. Oh shit. I scramble to my feet and intercept Kate before she gets too far.

“Hey Kate!” I greet as I approach her, “Need help with those?”

Kate looks relieved as she begins to gather them up and hand them to me, score, “Oh would you Amelia? My back’s killing me.”

“Yeah no problem!” I answer, taking the bananas and slinging them over my shoulders, “Where do you want them?”

Kate points down the beach, past where there’s a small pile of clothes and a book, “Just down there is fine.”

“Okay! Cool, see you later Kate,” I say and Kate walks away from me. I start to make my way towards where I know Sawyer’s clothes to be.

I make it and smile when I find Sawyer's clothes and a paperback edition of Watership Down.

“Hell of a book,” I hear Sawyer call from the ocean, “It's about bunnies.” I sigh in relief, the interaction is the same.

I look Sawyer up and down as he comes out of the water naked, and I feel a blush creep over my face. “Must be cold without your trunks,” I say, making no effort to keep the amusement out of my voice.

“You bet. How about you come a little closer and warm me up?” Sawyer replies with a cheeky grin, and I half want to do what he says.

Instead I feel myself shaking my head with a smile, “You sure know how to make a girl feel special, Sawyer.” And with that I walk away to where Kate said the bananas were supposed to go.

I wait until Sawyer trails off into the jungle before I go hunting for a book. I need something to do other than sit on the beach all day getting a sunburn. Except, I don’t find myself getting burnt, or even remotely tan for that matter. Probably more Island magic, or maybe it’s TV magic doing the work in this weird reality I find myself in. I strike gold, Of Mice and Men, works for me. I read it in high school once, so I think it’s about time I read it again.

I sneak out of Sawyer’s tent and into my own, tossing the book aside to open the flaps of my tent. Once they’re secured I settle down on one of my airline seats and open the book to chapter one. Not a few minutes into the book I hear a rustling sound outside of my tent. I sigh and put my book aside before popping my head out of the tent. Oh, it’s Boone.

“Boone?” I call and he shoots his head up, hands full of Sawyer’s stuff.

“Uh Amelia- It’s not what it looks like,” Boone says, panic clear in his voice. Then Sawyer shows up.

“What are you doing in my stuff, son?” Sawyer interrogates.

“Uhhh,” Boone tries to answer, but Sawyer sucker punches him right in the nose. I yelp in surprise, they didn’t show this in the show.

I scramble to my feet to try and get Sawyer off Boone, but he pushes me away and I fall in the sand. This sets Boone off, and he tries to punch Sawyer back. I cry out again when Sawyer’s fists connects with Boone’s nose. He starts bleeding and rushes at Sawyer again, but Sawyer catches him and punches his face. Suddenly Shannon is there and Sawyer is off and away from Boone. Shannon scrutinizes me and drags Boone away, to the caves. I stand up in a hurry.

“What was that for!” I shout at Sawyer and he waves a hand at me dismissively.

“Sawyer..” I plead, brushing the sand off my pants. “Why did you have to hit him? And why didn’t you stop?”

“He was going through my stuff,” Sawyer gruffs, not looking at me as he puts his things back in order.

“You didn’t have to react like that,” I reply calmly.

“Betcha knew I would do that,” Sawyer grumbles.

“What?” I ask, but I know what he said.

“Nothing,” Sawyer replies, but he pauses as he looos through his stuff, “Did you take a book.”

Guilt floods my stomach as Sawyer turns to face me, “Yeah..” I mumble, “Of Mice and Men…” I look down, unable to meet Sawyer’s eyes. He’s already in a bad mood from Boone, and even if I know he won’t hurt me I’m still a bit afraid.

“Just give it back when you’re done,” He says and I snap my head up. Sawyer is already walking away and I just stare at him in disbelief. At least I know he has a soft spot for me.

A little while later, Sawyer comes back to our tents in a huff. I don’t remember why he’s so petulant in this episode. Probably because it’s his centric episode and the writers have to show what a “bad guy” Sawyer is. Lucky for me I know that he’s nothing but a big softy with a lot of grief at the end. Sawyer sits and starts to read his letter, and I can almost feel the air turn sour.  He then pulls out a cigarette and begins smoking it. I shake my head and suddenly Jack shows up and starts going through Sawyer's stuff. Sawyer folds his letter fast and I stand up.

“Where is it?” Jack demands.

“Hey, Doc. Long time no see,” Sawyer says casually and I walk over slowly.

“Jack?” I ask, sounding remarkably like Kate. But Jack ignores me.

“Where is it?” Jack spits.

“Where's what?” Sawyer shoots back, dropping his false nice tone.

“The girl's asthma medicine. Shannon -- her inhalers.”

“Oh, that.”

“You attacked a kid for trying to help his sick sister.”

“No, I whooped a thief cuz he was going through my stuff,” Sawyer huffs.

“Sawyer!” I call, feeling indignant. He ignores me too.

“Yours?” Jack says with a small laugh, “What makes it yours? What, you think you can just take something out of a suitcase and that makes it yours?”

“Which I had to move because everybody just wants to help themselves,” Sawyer interjects, “Look, I don't know what kind of commie share-fest you're running over in cave town, but down here possession's 9/10ths. And a man's got a right to protect his property.”

“Get up,” Jack threatens.

“Why, you want to see who's taller?” Sawyer jests.

“Get up.”

“You sure you want to make this your problem, Doc?”

“Oh yeah. I'm sure,” Jack says, his voice full of malice.

Sawyer finally gets up. Just as he does Kate enters the tent with a side glance at me. My arms are crossed over my chest and I huff in the direction of Jack and Sawyer. She seems to get the message, at least I hope she does.

“Hey, what's going on here?” Kate asks, but no one answers her. Jack just walks away, and Kate follows. With one last withering glance at Sawyer I turn on my heel and follow them.

“I'm going to kill him,” I can hear Jack say as I run up to the both of them.

“That's not going to help us get the medicine,” Kate reasons then turns to me, “Hey Amelia.”

I raise my hand in a small wave and then bend over with my hands on my knees to catch my breath.

“Maybe not, but it'll feel good,” Jack replies and then nods to me. I nod back.

“So what's stopping you?” Kate asks.

“We're not savages, Kate. Not yet,” Jack replies in a dark tone.

“Let me talk to Sawyer,” I cut in, stealing the line from Kate. Jack turns to me.

“What makes you think he's going to listen to you?” Jack asks, putting his hands on his hips like he always does.

“I think we have a connection,” I say, looking over at Kate. She doesn’t look at me, she’s staring down at the sand with a hard expression.

“Do you?”

“Please.”

Jack raises his hands in defeat, “If you can find him, be my guest.” I nod and he and Kate walk away. I do feel guilty every time I steal a line, but how else am I supposed to make myself relevant? I’m not supposed to be here, and I’m manipulating things to make sure I don’t sit around on the beach all day.

I walk away from where we were all standing, and amble my way towards where Sawyer is chopping wood near the end of the beach. I sigh to myself as I walk up behind him. I lean up against the tree he’s under and wait a beat. Sawyer chops a piece of wood and I clear my throat.

“What do you want?” I ask, and Sawyer turns his head to look at me.

A smile plays on his face as he answers, “Excuse me?”

“What do you want, Sawyer?” I repeat, and he just shakes his head and turns back to the wood.

“Blue eyes, I got so many answers to that question, I wouldn't even know where to start.”

“What do you want for the inhalers?” I sigh, because I know the answer. Sawyer seems to know this too.

“Ah, good question. Hang on a tick. What do I want? A kiss ought to do it.”

I feel myself stumble back, “W-What?” I choke out, I wasn’t expecting that answer. Sawyer turns around.

“A kiss, from you, right now?” He doesn’t seem serious, but the fluttering in my stomach makes me want to believe him. He’s just playing mind games with me.

“Why not from Kate? Don’t you like her better?” I ask as confidently as I can as I cross my arms over my chest.

“But you’re right here blue eyes, what’s a man to do?” Sawyer croons and I take a step back as he steps forward.

“I don't- I dont b-buy it,” I stumble as I speak.

“Buy what?” Sawyer asks.

“The act,” I say as I take a deep breath to steady myself, “You try too hard, Sawyer. I ask you to help a woman who can't breath and you want me to kiss you? Nobody's that disgusting. I know you, you know.”

“You don’t know jack, stop saying that,” Sawyer spits at me. What did I do to deserve this treatment?

“That piece of paper -- the one you keep in your pocket,” I begin, “I know the expression on your face when you read it and I know how carefully you fold it up. I know it means something to you. So you can play games all you want, but I know there's a human being in there somewhere. Give me the medication.”

“You think you understand me?” Sawyer asks menacingly.

“Yeah. I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” I say confidently back.

“Shut up,” Sawyer says and I flinch at him, “You want to know what kind of human being I am?” He takes the letter out of his pocket and hands it to me, “Read it. Read it. Out loud.”

“James I already-” I try to say.

“No. Just read it,” He growls and I realize it was a bad idea to call him by his real name.

I take a deep breath and begin to read, out loud, “Dear Mr. Sawyer, you don't know who I am but I know who you are and I know what you done. You had sex with my mother and then you stole my dad's money all away. So he got angry and he killed my mother and then he killed himself, too.”

“Don't stop now. You're just getting to the good part,” Sawyer cuts in sarcasally.

“All I know is your name. But one of these days I'm going to find you and I'm going to give you this letter so you'll remember what you done to me. You killed my parents, Mr. Sawyer,” I finish reading and I look at my feet. Maybe I provoked him too much.

“Now about that kiss... I didn't think so,” Sawyer says and he walks past me away from the wood. I sink into the sand next to the tree as I swallow the burning feeling in my throat.

Trudging back to the beach I notice Sawyer gathering up some things. I know he’s going to the caves, and he’s going to get punched. I run up to him.

“Wait Sawyer-,” I call as I approach him, “I want to go with you.”

“You don’t know where I’m headed,” Sawyer says coolly and I shake my head.

“The caves? To get water?” I offer with a feigned air of confidence.

“Fine, get your pack and some water bottles and let’s go.”

“Great, thanks,” I reply, feeling annoyed.

We walk through the jungle together for a while before Sawyer even speaks up. I was beginning to wonder if he was going to freeze me out.

“Why do you keep coming around?” He asks, keeping his eyes straightforward on the path.

“Well um, I know that you’re making an enemy of people on this Island and I want to be a.. a fall back?” I offer weakly. While it’s not a lie it’s not the complete truth. I want him to trust me and not get upset with me.

Sawyer just lets out a huff as we make it up to the caves. We walk over to where the water is and Sawyer bends down to get some. I keep my eyes away from the people in the caves as Jack approaches.

“Give me the inhalers -- now,” Jack demands to Sawyer, not even looking at me.

“Hell, I wondered when you were going to stop asking nice,” Sawyer drawls as he makes to stand. Jack lunges in and punches him. I flinch and make a noise.

“Well, it's about time, cowboy. Been telling you since day one, we're in the wild. Didn't think you had it in you,” Sawyer taunts and Jack punches him again.

“Hey! Stop it you two!” I yell out, the others in the cave glands at me but the two men ignore me.

“That all you got?” Sawyer huffs, flicking his sweaty head out of his face. Jack stops and looks around, noticing that everyone is watching him. He shakes his head and walks away. Sawyer breathes heavily and stares daggers at the cave people.

“C’mon Sawyer,” I say quietly, filling up some bottles and leading Sawyer out of the caves to make our way back to the beach.

After Sawyer and I made it back from the caves. We both settle down next to one another on the airline seats outside of Sawyer’s tent. Sawyer decided to take a nap so I decide to continue to read Of Mice and Men. It’s weird, though, sitting silently next to Sawyer as he sleeps and I read. I think forward to the Dharmaville days ahead, and I hope we’ll be able to do it more. Then my stomach turns and I remember Juliet. I scratch the back of my head and tuck into my book.

A few minutes later I hear crunching in the sand. I look up from my book and see Sayid approaching with a large metal pipe. Sayid holds a finger up to his lips to signal silence and I scramble out of my seat towards him.

“Sayid you can be serious!” I loud-whisper to him, pressing a hand to his chest to stop him.

“He did this to himself,” Sayid replies, pushing right past me to poise the big metal pipe over Sawyer's head. Sawyer jerks awake and without a smile Sayid says, “Good morning,” and slams the pipe down onto Sawyer. I let out a yelp in protest.

Then Jack shows up and begins to gather Sawyer out of his seat. Then he and Sayid begin dragging Sawyer away. I run up beside them, and Kate soon joins us.

“What are you doing? Jack!” Kate yells.

“This was Sawyer's choice, not mine,” Jack says stoically.

“If you do this!” Kate begins, but her next statement is cut off. I feel something hit the back of my head and spots dance over my vision. I fall to the sand as black engulfs me.

I’m jerked awake by a wave of cold water being thrown onto me. I look wildly around and see Jack holding a bucket looking guilty. I look to my left and see Sawyer tied to a tree. Sayid splashes water on his face to bring him to.

“Well, ain't you the brave one, jumping a guy while he's napping,” Sawyer drawls and then looks between Sayid and Jack, “Uh-oh, I'm in trouble now, ain't I?”

“I guess we both are,” I mumble to myself and I notice Sawyer turn his head towards me.

“Sawyer, I'm giving you the chance to do the right thing. Now, all I want is the asthma medicine. Just tell me where the inhalers are and we'll stop,” Jack explains to Sawyer.

“Stop what, Chico?” Sawyer asks and I look over to see Sayid making bamboo spikes.

“It doesn't have to be this way,” Jack tries to say.

“Yeah, it does,” Sawyer replies.

“No! It doesn’t, Sawyer please,” I try to beg.

“Oh and you’ve got blue eyes here too?” Sawyer asks with a chuckle, “I must be in a load of trouble then.” Jack opens his mouth to speak, but Sayid cuts in with a speech.

“We do not have bamboo in Iraq, although we do have something similar -- reeds. But their effect is the same when the shoots are inserted underneath the fingernails,” Sayid explains in a menacing voice, and I can feel my heart rate increase rapidly. I hate this scene, I hate this scene.

“You know what I think, Ali. I think you've never actually tortured anybody in your life,” Sawyer taunts, and I wince for him.

“Unfortunately for us both, you're wrong,” Sayid replies as he slowly begins to move behind Sawyer. I shut my eyes as Sayid starts with the bamboo under the fingernails.

“That's it? That's all you got? Splinters? No wonder we kicked your ass in the Gulf…” Sawyer begins to say, until Sayid shoves the bamboo into Sawyer’s fingernails and he screams. I let out a cry in pain as well just hearing him.

“Sayid. Sayid!” Jack calls, and Sayid stops.

“No. Don't stop now. I think my sinuses are clearing?” Sawyer pants, egging him on.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jack asks Sawyer.

“Perhaps a more indirect method will loosen your tongue?” Sayid asks and I know what’s coming. I open my eyes and beg Sawyer with him to stop. Sawyer doesn’t say anything and I whimper.

Sayid shifts to get behind me and my tied hands. I struggle with my bonds and try to get my fingers away from Sayid's hands. I cry out when he grabs my wrists roughly and slides the bamboo into them. I scream high and clear as color burns in my vision at the pain. I try to jerk away, but Sayid just tightens his hold.

Okay, okay!” Sawyer calls and I feel Sayid retreat. I collapse into the tree and begin to sob.

“Where is it?” Sayid asks harshly.

“The only person I'll tell is her,” Sawyer replies.

“Amelia?” Jack asks but Sawyer shakes his head and realization washes over Jack, “Kate?”

“That's the deal,” Sawyer says finally. Jack and Sayid move away from the spot to go to get Kate. I turn as best I can to Sawyer.

“Why?!” I shout, trying to overcome my sobs. “Why did you let him do that to me James why why why!”

“Keep your voice down,” Sawyer growles through clenched teeth, “And I did it because I didn’t think Sayid would actually harm you. I was wrong.”

“Damn right you were wrong,” I choke out and lean my head against the trunk of the tree. Then Jack and Sayid return with Kate. Kate looks hard at Sawyer, but her expression softens when she sees me.

Kate shakes her head and turns back to Sawyer, “So I'm here. Where is it?”

“Happy to tell you, as soon as I get a kiss,” Sawyer replies cheekily. I knew it would come to this. He’s never going to kiss me.

“What? Are you serious?” Kate asks incredulously, not bothering to hide the tone.

“Baby, I am tied to a tree in a jungle of mystery. I just got tortured by a damn spinal surgeon and a gen-u-ine I-raqi,” Sawyer pauses and looks over to me, “Of course, I'm serious. You're just not seeing the big picture here, Freckles. You really going to let that girl suffocate because you can't bring yourself to give me one little kiss? Hell, it's only first base. Lucky for you I ain't greedy.”

“Okay,” Kate agrees.

“Okay,” Sawyer repeats. I close my eyes as Kate leans in and I know they kiss. I keep my mouth in a tight line to avoid from making any pathetic sounds.

“I don't have it,” Sawyer says, and then turns his head to me, “Blue eyes here probably knew that too.”

“What?” Kate blanches, looking between the both of us. I look away from her face feeling guilty. I tried to stop it.

“The medicine. I don't have it, never did,” Sawyer replies.

“The book -- they said you found it in their luggage.”

“The book washed up on shore, went in the drink with the rest of-“ Sawyer is cut off as Kate elbows him across the face. I make another sound of protest as she walks away toward Jack and Sayid.

I take my chance to slowly try and wiggle out of my bonds. I felt they tied it a little too loose, and I try to maneuver my fingers to get myself untied. I yank my hands away from the trunk and my wrists free themselves. I shake off the bonds and quickly scramble to my feet and make it to Sawyer.

“C’mon Sawyer let’s go-”

Suddenly Sayid is running towards us, and back to Sawyer. I turn my head as Sawyer is helping me loosen the bindings on his wrist. I intercept Sayid and try to fight him off away from Sawyer. Sayid makes a move to try to stab Sawyer in the arm. I intercept him once ahain, but at a cost. Sayid stabs me instead. I sob in pain and collapse into Sawyer’s lap. Sayid holds his arms out, like it was an accident. Jack rushes over to us as Sawyer tries to get me up. He supports me on his lap as Jack pulls the knife out, blood spurts out of my arm and I cry out again.

“You hit an artery,” Jack says and I wiggle around to, “Keep still damn it. Sayid, I need my stuff from the caves, my leather backpack. Go.”

Jack pinched my artery closed as best as he can as Sawyer’s hands steady themselves at my waist to keep me still. I drop my head back onto Sawyer’s shoulder and whimper quietly in pain.

“Can you make it stop?” Kate’s voice cuts through the panic that is filling up my head. Kate and Jack keep me still as Sawyer and help me switch places with him.

“Let go. I know you want to,” Sawyer taunts Jack and I try to give him a withering look.

“Shut up,” Jack says to Sawyer, “And stop moving”, he says to me.

“You've been waiting for this, haven't you? Now you get to be the hero again, because that's what you do -- fix everything up all nice,” Sawyer taunts again, and I really wish he’d shut up. This is my life on the line and not his, “Tell him to let go, Freckles. Blue eyes is just taking up the top spot as doctor anyways. Hey, Jack, there's something you should know -- if the tables were turned, and it wasn’t blue eyes, I'd watch you die.”

“Sawyer I really wish you’d shut up,” I say weakly, but everything looks blurry. The last thing I see is Sawyer’s concerned look before I pass out.

When I do finally wake up, Kate and Sawyer are there to see me. I scoot up a little more on Sawyer's makeshift seat-bed. Sawyer is the first to get up and come over, and Kate follows after him.

“You're lucky to be alive,” Kate says to me in amazement.

“Jack?” I ask.

“Went to the caves to check on Shannon,” She tells me and then turns on Sawyer. She holds up Sawyer's letter and he gives her a horrible look. Red hot guilt fills my stomach and throat, “I read it, and then again, because I've been trying to figure out why you beat up Boone instead of just telling him you didn't have his sister's medication. Why you pretended to have it anyway. The thing that I keep coming back around to is that you want to be hated. Then I looked at the envelope -- America's bicentennial, Knoxville, TN. You were just a kid, 8 maybe 9 years old.”

“Kate,” Sawyer says menacingly. Kate must’ve took it off me when they were taking me back to the beach. I look down at my wrapped arm and realize I’m only in my tank top.

“This letter wasn't written to you. You wrote this letter. Your name's not Sawyer, is it?” Kate asks and I try to sit up more. Shit shit shit shit shit shit.

“Kate wait-” I try to say, but Sawyer cuts me off.

“It was his name. He was a confidence man. Romanced my momma to get to the money, wiped them out clean, left a mess behind. So I wrote that letter. I wrote it knowing one day I'd find him. But that ain't the sad part,” Sawyer pauses and glances at me, “When I was 19, I needed 6 grand to pay these guys off I was in trouble with. So I found a pretty lady with a dumb husband who had some money. And I got them to give it to me. How's that for a tragedy? I became the man I was hunting. Became Sawyer. Don't you feel sorry for me,” Sawyer grabs the letter from her, “Get the hell out. Get out!”

Kate gets up and walk away without another glance at me. Sawyer watches her go with an awful expression on his face. I slowly lower myself onto the bed, now feeling light-headed from sitting up. I must’ve lost a lot of blood.

“Sawyer I didn’t know she would find it,” I say weakly, bracing myself for an explosion from Sawyer.

“Not your fault,” Sawyer replies simply, still looking away from me. I stare at him surprised.

“I took a knife for you,” I say and he finally turns around.

“What?”

“In the original series,” I explain, “You’re the one who gets stabbed. I don’t exist.”

“Lucky you,” He replies simply and settles back into the chair next to the bed. I turn on my back and stare up at the ceiling of the tent.

The sun begins to set and I look out across the beach to see Sayid and Kate talk. I remember that Sayid is leaving, and I smile a bit to myself. It’s odd how even though I changed things, everything seems to course correct. I watch as Sayid kisses Kate’s hand and then turns to walk away. I turn my head to Sawyer and see him hold a lighter up to his letter, but hesitate.

He turns his head and catches my eye, and I give him a reassuring smile. He nods back at me and turns away to look at the ocean. I smile to myself some more and begin to hum “I Shall Not Walk Alone” as I remember from the episode's end.

LOST

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[peachyunjinnie]

❝dear dori...❞ lmh ― f.

― summary:

you find a stray cat, and as the kitten rushed outside, she ran to the coffee shop to reunite with her owner and the barista minho.

barista!minho/female!reader | fluff | 1.9k ↬ content warnings: -

a/n: had this idea and it seemed so cute and soft. also this is for @mikoto-ica-fics​. i think the threesome will be the worst fic ever and the most time eating shit but i am working on it!  <3

plus for the other two minho stans i know uwu @mini-meanhoe​ & @nightshade-minho​

→ blogs masterlist

“Go! Go back!” I said to this thing following me, for a good 20 minutes straight. The fast walking of it scared me even more than I usually does. Yes, I am scared of cats, but here I am going home but this cat is not going to leave me. 

“Come one! Go!” I tried and tried, but this kitty is not going to leave me alone. With another look at this cat, I saw that it has no collar. This cat is no way older than a year and is just going around the dark streets of Seoul? 

The broken sounds of this probably exhausted and tired kitten was echoing in my ears. I looked back at this cat, deciding if this cat looks hungry or just having a walk, maybe this cat just wants to annoy me. Gladly my house was just in this area. I got inside but before I could do anything this little thing just stalks in my apartment. Just walking right past me and making itself comfortable on my small couch. I quickly went up to the kitten and started to freak out since there were no animals allowed in here.

“Hey, little kitty. I know you are probably very tired and just want to sleep a bit in a warm place but I wi- Wow I am talking to this cat.” I interrupted myself mid-sentence. 

The meows of this stray cat was translated into a simple and easy ‘let me sleep and shut up’. I couldn’t keep this thing in here. What if someone sees this cat? what if this cat attacks me? what if its owner is searching for this cat? So many questions but sadly no answers.

I decided to close the door and just leave her here for tonight. I couldn’t really do anything else than that, so I got out a plastic bowl and filled it with some tuna. I heard a loud grunt from the cat as it agreed to my decision of the food choice.

The small paws of the cat was visible around the corner as it came towards me and my heart began to beat faster. Even though I made some food for this stranger, doesn’t mean I will stop being scared of this thing.

“G-Go to the couch!” I once again talked with a cat. I shook my head as this cat came closer and closer. I stood completely still and closed my eyes as this kitten stroked against my leg, my knees trembling hardly. What have I gotten myself into? Why am I like this? But the much bigger question is why is this kitty so calm and relaxed?

The purrs of the kitten was vibrating on my leg and my foot. The sound calming me down instantly. I opened my eyes again and peeked down. The cats expression was something in between ‘give me the goddamn food already’ and ‘calm down, im not gonna eat you’. I instantly relaxed a bit from the softness and the fluffiness of this little curled up ball.

I kneeled down and carefully touched the head of this little thing, still having a little distance. My shaking hands caressing this kitten. I couldn't believe how I was doing what I was doing, but it seemed so easy and...kind of good.

The purring and the vibration was getting louder. The cat was falling down my hand and just pushed itself to me, shocked of how desperate this kitty really was to be pet was not what i was expecting.

"You are tired...aren't you." I said more to myself, starring at the weak and already closed eyes. I couldn't tell if this cat is like that because it is tired or if this kitten really accepts me. I shook my head, trying to get all lf this out of my head and put the tuna down.

The instant standing up from the cat scared me and I stumbled backwards to the counter. The kitty couldn't care less and ate the food in a matter of seconds. I was shocked by the fast pace of this kittens eating and I stepped back and watched the bowl get emptier and emptier. How can this little thing eat so much and so fast? Well, at least a thing we had in common.

I shrugged my shoulders and walked to my bed to finally lie down. This day at uni was awfully hard, geometry and math quite literally killed me in every single way. Inhale exhale, enjoying this little moment of peace and silence. Not being trapped in the noisy traffic and just escaping this busy city that is Seoul.

I let the door opened and there was this kitty standing at the door frame, staring at me with a tilted head. I don’t know what to do or how to process this cat that has now eaten is strutting to my bed.

“Oh boy.” 

“Meow.” The kitty hasn’t meowed once yet and this sound scared the living shit out of me. 

“Come on. Go to the couch!” The cat didn’t seem to care about my anxiety rising and just jumped up the bed.

“Go!” She lay down and rolled around on her back, her paws in the air and her playful eyes fixed on me. I saw the little eyes shining and the pupils being small, which meant that she is relaxed...right?

I took my hand and stroked the kitten a little. The purring of the cat became louder and the soft 'meow' was less loud than the other one. The cat stretched out to me and closed its eyes for a little rest. My hand patted her automatically and I lay down again to rest also like the cat.

"No, I did not. Can I please have Nara's transport box?" I asked my sister on the phone, begging to use her

"Y/N, why don't you call animal services? They could help you better than I could."

"I don't want to. I don't want to leave this kitten to those people. I'll go to Mom's and drop her off. She wanted a cat."

"You're seriously giving this kitten to our mother?"

"What else can I do? I myself am afraid of cats and I'll have nervous breakdowns if it meows or moves or even exists in my presence."

"Come on, give it a try. You can bring her to me and I'll take care of her." "You mean it?"

"Yeah, you can't have her with you and I don't want her with Mom." "Why not?"

"Because I know Mom, and she can use everything right now, but not a pet." With that she hung up and a notification came up from a text from her.

‘I’ll be here in 10.‘

A loud knock on the door after I was just done cleaning up the messy kitchen echoed through the apartment. I saw paws hushing to the door and loud scratching noises, trying to know who was having the audacity to interrupt the nap of this stranger kitten.

I stopped mopping the kitchen floor and tried to get to the doorknob to open it somehow. What was interesting is that this cat did not look at me or acknowledged me standing there. The tail was wiggling and I was feeling my angst rise and my hand shake. I opened the door quickly and the cat just rushed outside to the streets. Me and my sister had a moment of staring at each other and not knowing what to do now.  One or two seconds have passed and my sister reflex has kicked in better than mine, as she sprinted after the cat and I stuck to the ground and waited for my brain to process the situation. 

I quickly realized the situation and ran off to catch my sister in this sprint. I saw her hair blowing in the wind of her fast pace and the shadow of the cat that was chasing something quickly. After the 10 minutes I could finally see that the cat was getting slower but after 15 minutes the cat has crossed the road and entered a coffee shop. 

“A coffee shop?? Really?” I asked and was clearly as confused as my sister was at the moment. How could this cat just run for 25 minutes and then casually walk inside a coffee shop with no hesitation at all. 

“This cat is as weird as you are, Y/N.” She laughed, well she tried to laugh even though she is kind of having an asthma attack at the moment.

I stepped inside the coffee shop and was still breathing hardly and was greeted by a very floral and very well decorated. The pretty and visibly pleasing to look at cafe was something between what I would imagine heaven would look like if you would think that heaven was a white and pink and blue paradise. I was instantly calmed down by the pastel colors. The chairs and tables were in a purple warm tone that melted well into the scheme of the place. I was greeted with 2 customers who were each sitting on the end of the room and were minding their business. I walked up to the one barista that was working there. He had brown hair and the prettiest brown eyes, the brightest beaming smile on his face and as I got closer to the counter I saw this little ball of fluff curled up in his arms.

“Oh- Sorry. Do you want to orde-” He started but noticed my big eyes on this kitten, not leaving the sight of it and the kitten escaping his clutches to go on the counter to stroke towards me to push it’s head on my hand that was resting on the hard wooden table. 

“W-Wow, do you know my little Dori?” He smiled and exposed his beaming smile. I couldn’t tell if my world was turning or if I was feeling dizzy. I couldn’t stop starring at his beautiful facial features. I couldn’t keep my gaze from him and stop starring at this stranger that I do not know at all but this magical feeling this man gave me, was absolutely and undeniably the nearest example I could give for love at first sight.

And it seemed that he was doing the exact same with me, scanning me and not looking at me. He was looking through me and straight stared into my soul. My god, I couldn’t tell you if I was dumb or if time and gravity has stopped for a minute. 

“N-No, this cat h-has followed me and I fed her and let her sleep at my pl-place.” I stuttered and never left my gaze from his deep brown eyes that were forming into an eye smile.

“Wo-Wow. That is so nice of you. I was looking for her last night- Can I maybe g-get you something to drink? It’s my last shift a-and we could-” He was as nervous as I was but I couldn’t help but smile hard from the tint that came onto his face.

“Of course, My name is Y/N. By the way.” I smiled at his eyes not knowing where to look at. My face heating up as well and my smile not losing it’s intensity.

“I am Minho.”

[teen-cups-au]

¡The Fear Of Losing You!

⚠ Warnings : Angst, brotherly moments, mention of death, fear, pain 

Cuphead noticed that the last few weeks.. Mugman was acting weird. He had caught him staring at him.. He would see him spending many hours in front of the laptop reading articles and books..

Even the way he was hugging him was weird as if he was checking his body. 

This continued for weeks. Not only that. Mugman’s asthma attacks have been more common. He was coughing a lot!.. Something was wrong.. Very very wrong… 

He noticed that he had black circles under his eyes… Weird… Very very weird.. Wasn’t he sleeping? What the heck was going on.. 

Mugman would even bring a measure to see his body Cuphead asked “what are you doing Mug?” Mugman being a terrible liar said “Uuuuuhhhh I.. I saw that shirt that you might like and I was uh.. Curious to see if it will be okay!” he forced a smiley Cuphead wasn’t buying it.. He crossed his hands… Mugman said “Uuuuuhh I.. I better go study! Talk to you later Cup!" 

He saw him going upstairs and slamming the door behind him… 

This continued for some time. 

Until he had enough.. Mugman had fallen  asleep while reading some books. Cuphead slowly opened the door and  entered inside the room, took the laptop, went back to his room and started searching the history..

He saw «”Anorexia“ ”what is it?“ ”Can someone be cured?“ ”can someone die from it?“ ”Malnutrition“ ”heart problems“ ”eating disorders “ Anorexia Nevrosa"» 

Millions questions entered his mind «Why was mugman reading about this? Why was he tormenting himself with this..? What was going on? Why he was so scared?» 

He should ask him in the morning..  

When he entered the room to leave the laptop he noticed mugman struggling in his sleep.. As if he was having a nightmare.. «Cuphead… Please… Dont leave me..CUPHEAD?! DON’T DIE ON ME!! CUPHEAD OPEN YOUR EYES! CCCCUUPPPHHHEEEAAAAAAADDD!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! ” his eyes opened wide and caught his chest he started coughing.

Cuphead took his inhaler and gave it to him “there its allright.. Im here!"  he took the inhaler.. He breathed.. Catching his breath.. He looked at cuphead.. His dream fresh.. He brusted into tears and hugged him! 

Cuphead hugged him back! He kept thinking what his brother said in his dream.. Then…it hit him… Mugman… Was scared… He was scared… That he(Cuphead) might die…

That’s why he was desperate! All those breathing problems the past 7 weeks the black circles under his eyes…  The articles.. He… he was afraid… 

A warm feeling conquered his heart.. It was  4 o’ clock in the morning… 

He said "go to sleep mugs.. We will discuss in the morning..” he attempted to get up BUT mugman didn’t let go… 

He cried harder “IM SCARED!! I DON’T WANT TO LOSE YOU!! YOU AND ELDER KETTLE ARE THE ONLY FAMILY I HAVE LEFT!!! I CAN’T LOSE YOU.. THE FEAR OF LOSING YOU IS DRIVING ME INSANE!! SINCE ALL THESE NIGHTMARES STARTED IM SCARED... I CAN’T IMAGINE MYSELF HERE WITHOUT YOU!! PLEASE! DON’T LEAVE ME! CUPHEAD… PLEASE!!!! ” he cried in his chest..

Cuphead was speechless.. He hugged him" you won’t lose me… Mugs… Im here.. I won’t leave you! “ Mugman continued crying and kept hugging Cuphead for dear life.. He was afraid that if he let go he might vanish from existence.. 

” Im.. *hic* Im afraid you… You… *hic* Will…die *sob*… I… I.-*cough* *cough* *cough* *COUGH*COUGH * COUGH* COUGH*“  Mugman held his chest and started coughing it was so vivid poor mugs could feel his ribs and lungs slamming his chest ( is that feeling when you laugh so hard or coughing so hard you literally feel your ribcage/lungs tremble inside your chest) 

Cuphead took his inhaler.. And gave it to him "breath mugs! Deep breaths.. I ain’t going anywhere.. Okay?..” he said but mugman said nothing “…….." 

More tears ran down his eyes… ”Talk to me.. Mugs… All this time.. You were checking me.. Even when you were hugging me you were checking to see how much weight I lost.. You were checking my heart…you were scared.. “

"Yes… That’s right..also remember the orange juice i was giving you..?” he looked at cuphead who nodded “ They were vitamins.. "  he said "Oh Mugs..wait what?- Aaawww Mugs.. "he  chuckled and rubbed his back

” are you mad? “ mugman asked not looking at him

Cuphead removed him from his chest and said softly” No.. Mugs I am not mad.. I just want to discuss what bothers you okay its okay to be scared or worried Im fine! And about the vitamins they tasted good actually ya got more? “

Mugman chuckled” yes.. Yes.. I got more! “

"Will you be careful?” he asked still hugging him.. 

“Yes yes I will be! Will you tell me everything that bothers you so we can find a solution?” Cuphead asked

“Yes yes of course! As long as you do the same! ” mugman replied

“so do we have a deal?” Cuphead asked

“yes.. *sniff* we have a deal! 🤝"  They hugged each other and gently joined their heads.. Making a *click* sound they did that to assure each other.. It was comfort.. 

Then Mugman’s stomach made a noise reminding him how hungry he was .. They looked at each other and mugman rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish smiley on his face "hehehe woops" 

Cuphead chuckled.."come on let’s eat something” they went to the kitchen mugman made a fruit salad for cuphead and Cuphead made his Mugman’s Favourite sandwich 🥪. 

“Take something warm in case you get cold with you and follow me ” Mugman nodded he took  his blue jacket and followed Cuphead outside..

They went outside and they sat by the water a few steps away from their home  it was a clear starry night so they saw tge stars and the moon.. It was beautiful.. Then the sun rose. They saw the sunrise! 🌅The sky from black became darker shade of blue along with a shade of dark orange.. After some time the stars vanished and they saw the rays of sun.. It was beautiful! They entered inside from the window.    —- ( you are wondering why? From the window and not the door? Rational question! The answer  is *shrugs* well for more adrenaline ¯\_(ツ)_/¯Amelia (the author) is crazy! 😂) —

They fall asleep on the couch hugging each other. 

He was still worried about what might happen.. But he knew they will face it together! They had each other! 

｡.｡:∞♡*♥⋇⋆✦⋆⋇♥*♡∞:｡.｡　　

The end!! I hope you enjoyed it !!

TOO MUCH INSPIRATION YYYYYYYYAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSS!!! Adsfdgdhgdhydhdrffddgyfuihfndbjg

😘💙¡¡oNe MoRe OnE sHoT!! 💙😘

✨🌈¡Thank you for reading! 🌈✨

ᕕ( ՞ ᗜ ՞ )ᕗ

ヾ(❀╹◡╹)ﾉﾞ

(*´꒳`*)

_

Doudy (mun): Daw, poor boys...

Mugman and I now share the same history XD For research to get info about the same guy lmao.

Best deal right here, guys.

Aaah yes, sunsetaaAAAAAAAAAAAA TIMENYAAAAAaaahem...

The author's craziness is amazing. I like it.

Sweet end! 💙 You’re spoiling me so much with all these, thank yooouuu! 😘

[nerdzzone]

Light After Dark: Chapter One

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

______________

April. 12. 2020

Stress.

Everyone was feeling it these days. Pandemics will do that to people. Especially when the world that everyone knew and loved had crumbled into an entirely different, almost unrecognizable version of itself.

Restaurants were closed. All stores that were deemed non-essential were shuttered. The streets were empty.

It was an odd kind of bittersweet. It was heartbreaking to see all the bustling cities turn into ghost towns, but it was good because it meant that people were listening. People were caring about their vulnerable friends and neighbours, their elderly grandparents, the health care workers who fought tirelessly to save those who needed their help. 

It was a necessary evil, but nevertheless it was odd to see and the uncertainty of how the future would unfold was anxiety inducing.

At first, I wanted as much news as possible. Staying informed of everything happening in every affected country gave me some comfort. It was as if it somehow gave me more control, but I quickly realized that wasn't the case. It gave me no clearer indication of how or when things would end or when some kind of normality would return. It left me overwhelmed and drowning in hypothetical worse case scenarios when really the truth was that no one had any idea. Even the experts couldn't say what would happen next. It was all just guess work and while some of it was educated, most of the articles were not and it was turning me into a nervous wreck.

So I decided to disconnect. I decided to trust that I would be informed when the number of cases dropped and the lockdown was lifted and trust that the process would not be sped up by me consuming as many statistics and projections as I could find.

Turning off was hard though. I wasn't one of the lucky few who could simply do their job from home, I had nothing to fill my days. I had also chosen to isolate with my parents in the lovely house they'd bought a few years earlier on the beautiful island of Jersey. In some ways this was a lucky choice as the risk was far lower than in London where I was living, but it was quaint and the lack of hustle and bustle made me feel even more restless.

Which was how I found myself out exploring the trails. 

My mother had kicked me out of the house when she caught me doing one of my niece’s art projects for her out of boredom. My niece hadn't wanted to do it anyway, so I didn't see the harm, but my mother had reminded me that she was seven and didn't get to just opt out of schoolwork if she wasn't in the mood. She then cited some article she'd found about how the government were still encouraging people who were feeling cooped up to go outside to exercise once a day and tossed me my shoes and bag before pushing me to the door.

I'd wandered sulkily at first, frustrated that at thirty I was in a situation that had my mother tossing me outside the way she did when we were kids and our endless energy was getting on her nerves. But I soon realized she was right. It was a beautiful island and I should appreciate the opportunity to explore it. So I found a map, picked a destination and then hiked for almost an hour until I'd reached the viewing point I was looking for.

I had to admit it was a beautiful view as I looked out over the ocean, sitting on the little bench I'd found, but the peace it brought was short-lived. I started wondering if I really should have sat down at all considering I had no idea who had been there before me. My legs were tired so I had figured it was worth the risk as long as I didn't touch anything, but was it really?

Sighing into the mask that covered my face, it struck me again how strange the world currently was. Two months ago, I wouldn't have thought twice about sitting on a public bench or worried what would happen if another group joined me in the little clearing I'd found, but now every stranger was a potential threat.

I quickly grew frustrated with my negative thoughts. The walk was supposed to get me out of my head and I was annoyed that I couldn't shake it, couldn't think of anything else except the stupid pandemic for even just a few minutes. The mask on my face suddenly felt suffocating and I just wanted to get home so I could rip it off.

Rising from the bench, I checked the time on my phone before tossing it back into my bag with a sigh and heading off down the trails. I was in a world of my own as I walked. Day dreams about how things would be now if none of this had ever happened filled my head and then, when the inescapable reality broke through my thoughts, I pondered what kind of new cocktail I could try when I got home to ease the pang of loss that seemed to constantly fill my stomach.

I was in the midst of drooling over a prosecco and elder flower concoction that I'd recently read a recipe for when suddenly it felt like I was hit by a truck.

I landed on the ground, flat on my back, fighting to breathe as the wind was knocked right out of me. My chest was tight and my vision was blurry as I felt a familiar panic rising in my chest. Did I bring my inhaler? Where was my bag? What had even happened?

As the thoughts raced through my mind, I could vaguely hear the sound of someone next to me.

"Are you alright?" They asked, their tone conveying a similar panic to the one I was feeling. "Shit, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

I nodded as the spasm in my chest subsided, but my weak lungs seemed to struggle to recover from the shock. I coughed into my mask as I forced myself to sit up, looking frantically for my bag and spotted it a few feet off to the side. My breath was coming out in short wheezes as I struggled to move closer to it, but the man was much faster. He thrust it into my arms, watching me like a worried puppy as I quickly dug through it.

Relief flooded through me as my hand wrapped around my inhaler and I quickly pulled down my mask as I pressed it against my lips. It took a few moments, but I felt myself calm down as the tightness began to subside and my body relaxed. It wasn't until I'd taken a few deep breaths that the man spoke again.

"Are you alright?" He repeated, clearly realizing I was in a much better position to actually give a response. "I'm so sorry."

I nodded as I finally took a good look at who I was talking to and suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe again for an entirely different reason. He had a baseball hat pulled low on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity, but it didn't work as I realized I was face to face with Superman himself, Henry Cavill.

"Y-yeah, I'm, uh, I'm fine, thanks," I sputtered out. "What happened?"

Henry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he squatted next to where I was sitting on the dusty trail.

"I was running and I crashed into you," He admitted. "I wasn't paying attention and didn't see you around the corner."

"Oh," I nodded, still trying to come to terms with the situation. "I wasn't paying attention either to be fair. It's not your fault."

He pulled a face that made it clear that he didn't necessarily agree with that statement, but he didn't argue.

"Are you really alright?" He asked again, guilt written all over his face. "You fell really hard and then you weren't breathing. I thought I'd killed you."

I snorted a laugh, quickly covering my face as it turned into a cough.

"I'm okay," I insisted, my voice raspy. "And for the record I don't have that stupid virus either. I have asthma. I think I got winded when I fell and it triggered an attack."

"Shit," Henry rubbed his face nervously. "So I almost did kill you."

"Nah," I smiled, appreciating how genuinely bad he felt about the situation. "You can't be blamed for my broken lungs."

He chuckled and flashed me a smile before standing and holding out a hand for me. I took it happily, but once he'd pulled me to my feet another issue became apparent. As soon as I put weight on my left foot, I crumbled into Henry's arms, gasping in pain.

"Whoa, I got you," He soothed as he caught me. "What hurts?"

"My ankle," I groaned, shifting all my weight to my right foot and off of him.

Henry's brow furrowed in thought before his eyes widened like a little light bulb had gone off in his brain.

"There's a park nearby," He informed me. "Can I take you there and look it?"

I raised an eyebrow as I hopped slightly to keep my balance.

"I don't remember the Superman movie where Clark Kent went to medical school."

There was a brief flash of surprise on his face when he realized I knew who he was, but it disappeared almost instantly as he chuckled and shot me a smirk.

"I can't say that he did," He confirmed. "But as someone who had to stay in pretty decent shape for that role, I'm more familiar than I care to admit with sports injuries."

"I don't think being bowled over by a man with muscles bigger than my head counts as a sport," I matched his smirk. "But I would appreciate your opinion if you don't mind looking at it. It hurts quite badly and I'm clueless with this stuff."

"Of course," Henry nodded. "Ready?"

Before I could even answer, Henry had one arm tucked under the back of my knees and was holding me bridal style in his arms. I gasped quietly at suddenly being lifted off the ground, but my surprise quickly turned into awe at the ease with which he had picked me up and how he was now walking quickly down the trail as if I weighed nothing at all. It had been far too long since I'd been in a position this intimate with a man and my mouth suddenly felt dry as his biceps flexed under my back and I couldn't help, but imagine what they would look like if we were in other intimate positions.

Stopping those thoughts as fast as they appeared, I pulled my mask up to hide my reddening cheeks.

"We are definitely not six feet apart..."

My mumbled words were muffled even more by the mask covering my mouth, but the shake of Henry's shoulders as he chuckled and the wink that he shot me made it obvious that he'd heard me loud and clear.

****

"Alright, well, it's pretty swollen, but I don't think it's broken," Henry informed me as he sat on the bench of the picnic table he'd placed me on. He'd spent a few minutes wiggling my foot around, watching my response before announcing his opinion. "I think it's probably just twisted or sprained."

"There goes my dancing career." I sighed dramatically in an attempt to make it clear I was joking, but the slight drop of Henry's jaw and the guilt that riddled his face meant I'd missed the mark. "Kidding! I'm kidding. My lack of coordination killed that dream when I was a child. I'm a baker. Or rather, I was a baker."

Henry quirked an eyebrow at my change of phrasing.

"Decided on a career change?"

I looked down, wishing I hadn't brought it up in the first place. I was starting to accept the way things were, but it wasn't something I was eager to discuss just yet.

"I didn't get a chance to decide really," I started to explain, my voice suddenly coming out much meeker than it had before. "The pandemic kinda made the choice for me."

"Oh," Henry frowned. "Well, it can't go on forever. I'm sure they'll start letting places reopen by the summer."

"Not my place," I smiled half-heartedly in an attempt to hide some of the self-pity I was wallowing in. "I put all my eggs in one basket...A basket which the pandemic then threw off a cliff."

Henry chuckled at my explanation, but there was sympathy on his face.

"Is there no chance you could pick up where you left off?"

I sighed, but shook my head.

"I opened my own bakery in January," I admitted. "I barely had it up and running when the pandemic hit and with my asthma, I'm pretty vulnerable so I closed up shop as soon as things started heading south. I sunk all my savings into it though so I don't have enough to keep it a float. I was past the point of no return after only a few weeks of being shut."

Henry was quiet for a moment and I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me as I realized that I'd massively overshared my problems with a stranger who was simply trying to make polite conversation. I opened my mouth to spout out some apologies when Henry cut me off.

"I'm very sorry to hear that."

His eyes met mine as he spoke and even though it was a simple sentence, it put me at ease. His eyes were warm and comforting and it was clear there was sincerity to his words. Not wanting to burden him too much though, I simply shrugged.

"It could be worse," I pointed out. "I'm healthy, my family are all healthy. People have lost a lot more to this virus than I have."

"Just because people have lost more, it doesn't make you loss insignificant."

I had heard his words before and I appreciated the sentiment, but it still felt hard to grieve for a lost business when an incomprehensible number of people were grieving for lost loved ones. 

"You sound like my therapist," I teased, feeling a strange warmth in my stomach when a smile slid onto his face. He really was very handsome. It was no wonder why women and men all around the world would kill to get this close to him. "Anyway, I should probably call my dad and see if he can pick me up. I don't think I'll be able to walk home."

Henry nodded and passed me my bag from where it was placed on the ground. He waited patiently as I made the call, arranging for my dad to meet me on the road I could see running past the park just up a small hill. Once it was all set up, I turned back to Henry.

"Thanks so much for all your help," I smiled. "I think I'll be okay for now though, you don't need to waste any more of your day."

"It's not a waste," Henry argued. "Besides, I still maintain this whole mess was my fault so it's the least I can do to help you up that hill when your dad arrives."

"You really don't need to," I insisted. "I can hop or crawl or something."

A laugh slipped from Henry's mouth as he shook his head.

"As entertaining as I'm sure that would be to watch, it wouldn't be very decent of me to let you struggle like that," He held firm, clearly not one to back down easily. "How about as a trade off for my assistance, you can give me your number?"

I snorted a laugh as I looked at him in disbelief.

"You want my number? Is that a joke?"

"No!" He grinned from ear to ear as he fished his phone out of the pocket of his shorts. "It's the least you can do after I gave you my expert medical advice."

"Wow, Mr. Cavill. Very smooth," I smiled, my cheeks heating up as I rattled off my number. He entered it in carefully before looking up at me again.

"Now, I just need a name to go with it."

"Oh! How rude of me." My blushed deepened when I realized I hadn't even introduced myself. "I'm Brooke."

"Brooke," Henry repeated as he typed it into his phone. "It's nice to meet you, Brooke."

"You too," I agreed before deciding it was time to to turn the attention back to him. "So, what brings international superstar, Henry Cavil, to the little island of Jersey?"

"It's my home," He informed me, a fond smile on his face. "I grew up here so when production got shut down due to the pandemic, I decided to come here to isolate with my family."

"What an amazing place to grow up," I said, my words dripping with envy. "You must have had the run of the island!"

"We did," Henry nodded with a chuckle. "I have four brothers so my mother always knew we'd keep each other safe and let us do what we pleased for the most part."

"Four brothers?" My jaw dropped slightly at the thought. "I have one sister and that was more than enough siblings for me."

"It was a lot," Henry agreed. "But it was nice. I love having a big family and we all went to boarding school so there wasn't five of us in the house together all the time."

"That makes it easier," I nodded. "Are you close?"

"Absolutely! I'm closest with my younger brother because we're only two years apart, but we're all quite good friends. We try to get everyone together at least once a year if our schedules permit it."

He grinned as he spoke and it was clear that he loved his family very much. I couldn't help, but return his smile.

"That's really nice."

"Are you close with your sister?"

"I am," I nodded. "It's part of the reason I'm here, I guess. My parents moved here a few years back and she decided to bring my niece here to isolate so they could help look after her. My brother-in-law is a paramedic so he knew things were getting bad long before the lockdown started and he felt it would be safer for her not to be in the house with him in case he gets exposed. My sister is working from home though so home-schooling Molly by herself while trying to do her own work would be tough. Since Jersey is obviously safer for me too with my asthma, I decided to tag along when they came over from London way back at the beginning of March so I can help my sister with Molly too."

I felt like I was rambling and oversharing again, but Henry's eyes were on me the entire time and he never once seemed disinterested. It was refreshing to meet someone who was actually interested in having a proper conversation.

"That sounds like a very sensible choice," He nodded when I was finished my explanation. "It must be hard for your niece to be separated from her dad so I'm sure she appreciates having you around. A couple of my brothers are in the military and I know when they've been deployed, the kids really struggle."

"She's doing better than I expected, but there's days when we can tell she's having a hard time," I admitted. "Are you just isolating with your parents?"

"No, no, we're doing a similar thing to you," Henry smiled. "One of my brothers was over visiting at the beginning of March during a school break so when there was talk of schools closing, they decided to just stay over here. So it's my parents and I, plus my brother, his wife and their three kids. Oh, and my big fluffy dog."

My whole face lit up at the mention of a dog before I could even control myself.

"You have a dog?!" I practically squealed, making Henry's shoulder shake as he chuckled. "Do you have pictures?"

"Of course!"

Henry picked up his phone from where he'd placed it on the table and quickly opened his camera roll. From where I was sitting, perched on the table above him, I could see dozens of pictures pop up on the screen, most of them of a big fluffy, black and white dog. He scrolled for a moment before tapping on one and turning the phone towards me.

"Awwwe," I cooed, looking at the big goofy grin on the dog's face. "What's his name?"

"Kal."

I stared at him for a moment, confusion written all over my face.

"You named your dog Cow?"

Henry tossed his head back laughing, shaking it slowly.

"No, not cow! Kal!" He emphasized the 'L' as he clarified. "As in Kal-El."

"Ooh, I get it," I giggled, realizing my mistake. "Wow, you're a nerd."

"I am," Henry chuckled, not fazed by my jab. "If you think naming my dog after Superman is bad, wait until you hear how I've been spending all this free time."

I wrinkled my nose in mock disgust.

"Let me guess...some video game like...World of Warcraft?"

Laughter once again erupted from Henry, making me laugh at the sight.

"No, surprisingly not," He shook his head. "Even though I did almost miss the call for Superman because I actually was playing World of Warcraft..."

"Oh my god, really?" I raised an eyebrow, finding it hard to believe someone who looked like him was into something that many people consider so uncool. He nodded in confirmation before I got us back the point. "I need to hear that story too, but what have you been doing with your free time then if not gaming? Lifting cars to keep those muscles in perfect condition?"

Now it was Henry's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Cars?" He questioned, but I simply shrugged in response. "No, not that. Well, I mean, I do spend a good portion of my day keeping fit, hence this fateful run, but what I was referring to is this..."

Henry flipped to a picture on his phone and showed me. I wasn't entirely sure what I was looking at so I took a guess.

"Painting figurines?"

"Pretty much," He nodded. "It's all tied in to gaming. They have a whole world and lore created about it."

I giggled and shook my head in mock disbelief.

"If only your fan-girls could see you now..."

"Oh, they love it," He smirked. "I posted the picture on my Instagram and apparently they find my nerdy side rather endearing."

"They're just blinded by your handsome face," I teased. "And your gentlemanly manners."

"Most likely," Henry agreed with a grin that filled me a warmth. "Speaking of, I think your dad has arrived."

I looked over my shoulder towards the road and spotted a man waving his arms.

"Yep," I nodded, shifting over to the edge of the picnic table. "Now, how are we going to do this? Can I hold your-"

Before I could finish my sentence, Henry had his arm tucked under my knees and lifted me up bridal style once again.

"Show off," I teased, reaching back to grab my bag from the table just before Henry started the walk up the hill. "I think you're just trying to impress me with your strength."

Henry glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.

"Is it working?"

It was, but I shook my head.

"No, not at all," I lied. "If the tables were turned, I could carry you just as easily."

I was jostled slightly as Henry laughed at that bold statement.

"You're much stronger than you look then," He informed me as we got to the top. “Hold on to me now."

I listened to his instruction, keeping one arm draped around his shoulders as he lowered me to the ground, letting me lean my weight on him and off my left foot.

"Henry, what a pleasant surprise!" My dad greeted us, making me raise an eyebrow in suspicion of his rather familiar greeting of my new friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Unfortunately, I'm to blame for your daughter's injuries, Mr. Harris," Henry explained looking rather sheepish once again. "We collided on the path."

"It wasn't his fault," I insisted. "Neither of us were paying attention and he was kind enough to check me out after."

My dad glanced between the two of us, curiosity written all over his face.

"Check you out?"

My cheeks heated up as I realized how he'd chosen to interpret those words and I rolled my eyes.

"Check my ankle out," I clarified. "He says it's probably just sprained, but I can't put much weight on it."

"Well thank goodness Dr. Cavill was here to assist you," My dad teased, his smirk making me suddenly very aware that Henry still had his arm around my waist. "Your mother is worried sick though so we should probably get you home."

I nodded and hobbled towards the car with Henry's support. Once I was settled safely in my seat, I looked up at him.

"Thanks, Henry," I smiled. "I really appreciate your help."

"Anytime," He nodded. "Let me know when your ankle feels better, yeah?"

"Of course."

Before I could say anything else, my dad leaned over from the driver's seat.

"Can we drop you anywhere, Henry?"

"Oh, no, that's okay, thanks," Henry waved him off. "I should probably finish my run."

"Is that the safest plan?" I questioned, a smirk on my face. "Maybe you should get yourself a bell first so you don't mow down any more unsuspecting women..."

Henry fought back a smile as he feigned indignation.

"You never told me that your daughter was a comedian, Mr. Harris." He said to my dad as I giggled away at my own joke. 

"Yes, well, we try not to encourage her too much," My dad rolled his eyes. "Don't need her getting too big headed now, do we?"

I protested his comment as Henry laughed before we said a quick goodbye and he jogged off down the hill.

We drove in silence for a few moments before my dad looked over at me.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," I assured him. "I fell pretty hard and obviously banged up my ankle, but it's definitely not broken so it'll heal."

"I'm glad to hear that," He nodded. Another silence settled between us before he spoke again. "Your mom's worried about you. She said you seemed down this morning and that you’re getting antsy."

I looked down at my hands, not wanting to delve into this conversation.

"Everyone's getting antsy," I shrugged, deciding I needed to quickly change the subject. "Anyway, why didn't you tell me that you knew Henry Cavill?"

"I don't really know him, but his parents live just down the street from us so I've met him once or twice," He explained. "I didn't know you were such a fan."

"Well, I'm not really," I admitted. "I'm not not a fan, but I don't know much of his work. He is rather...You know, he's got a nice..."

I trailed off realizing who I was talking to, but my dad simply smirked.

"A nice face?" He suggested. "Nice abs? Nice arms? Which I'm sure you got a great feel of since you definitely weren't six feet apart, young lady."

My cheeks were red as I swatted his arm.

"I know we weren't," I muttered, feeling like a teenager who'd just been caught sneaking out with a boy. "But I was injured and I couldn't walk."

"Well, I hope you're good at hopping because I won't be able to carry you into the house like that with my old back," He informed me. "I'm no Superman."

I rolled my eyes and mumbled a quick 'shut up' as I looked out the window, but there was a smile on my face that I couldn't shake and for the first time since this whole pandemic fiasco began, I felt a little flicker of hope.