#probably should take the child dose too i am little

[totalwomanvictory]

tmi but nobody told me the pain meds they give u for utis make it look like u have internal bleeding🧍‍♂️

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.189 Correction

When story time ended, Sophia took Desi to the bathroom and washed away the mess. With a few moments to myself, I went to the real estate website to see our house again and choose which side we'll call home. Both houses have an identical layout, so it really boiled down to which furniture we liked more. The gray house had a more sophisticated vibe, while the blue house was more relaxed and comfortable. Choosing was a lot harder than I imagined because they both were nice, and I couldn't go wrong with either. Ultimately, however, I chose the gray one. I figured since I'm taking on all the risk, it's only right we live in the fancier one. Just as I picked up the phone to call Less and tell her we have a house, someone knocked at the front door. It was Dub! I let him in and told him I was just thinking of him yesterday. Usually he'd take the opportunity to joke about how he has that effect on sims, but he just kinda snorted and said it was funny in the driest of tones. There was nothing funny about that half-hearted laugh and him standing in the foyer staring into the corner. Something was wrong.

"Earth to Dubstep. You coming in or you gonna stand in the foyer all night?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm good."

He definitely was not good because he didn't even flinch at the mention of the nickname he hates so much. Whatever's got him in a funk is probably why he's here. He always comes to me when he's in crisis. Well, when he perceives he's in crisis, rather. I love the guy, but he's a little high-strung sometimes. I'm glad he has sims in his life like Maia and me who are much calmer and more level-headed to keep him straight.

I didn't want to just dive in and spook him, though, so I started with a little small talk.

"Happy belated," I said.

"Thanks, man," he replied with a tiny grin.

"How did Tami like sharing her day with you?"

He let out a very long sigh, and I knew I had stepped unintentionally right into the middle of what I tried to dance around. I guess we're going all the way in.

"She didn't."

"Oh."

"How do you-" He stopped himself and turned away from me. "Nevermind. You wouldn't understand."

"Understand what?"

He swatted at me, trying to sweep the conversation back under the rug.

"Nothing. You have the perfect child and all this wisdom. You don't understand what it's like for the rest of us."

Was he mocking me? I've had it up to here with everyone assuming I live this perfect life and have all the answers. I'm one of the most down-to-earth sims I know, yet somehow I still end up being out of touch with everyone. Am I too confident? Too strong? I know I've carried things I shouldn't have in the past, and I need to be more open, but how does that equate to me having it all together? I know Dub is upset about something and isn't thinking straight, so I'm gonna try to let it go this time, but not before I give him a little dose of truth because, upset or not, this fairytale everyone thinks I live in ends today.

"Do you really believe that?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"Maybe. I don't know. But I'm sure you're gonna tell me how I'm wrong, so..."

"Damn right I am. You don't know my life like you think you do. And you definitely don't know what goes on in my head. 'All this wisdom?' I got it from all the shit and mental gymnastics I've been through. Now, I'll be the first to say my child is the best, but she has her moments too. And I've had my share of parenting and marriage fails, so don't tell me I don't know what it's like."

He sat silently for a few moments, taking in my reprove. Part of me thinks all he needed was to hear me say he's not alone, but another part thinks he still needs advice on something, so I got down to business.

"What happened, Dub? I don't like seeing you like this."

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that."

"Don't worry about it. What's going on?"

"You ever wonder if you're ruining Desi?"

His question caught me off guard, and I laughed. He has no idea how obvious that answer should be.

"Only all the time," I said.

His eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Of course. Did Tami come with a manual? Because we sure didn't get one. I don't know what I'm doing half the time, man, so yeah...I wonder. Like, her birthday is in two days, but I'm still carrying her around like an infant. She enjoys it, so it's cool, but is it hurting her? Will she want to be up under us all the time when she's older? Am I keeping her from becoming independent? I question every move I make with her, even if it's not necessarily bad."

"I feel that." He sat there, nodding over and over as if to drum up the courage to make his next statement. "Tami has been doing and saying some mean things lately, but I just let it happen because of my own feelings about the sims she's doing it to."

"How do you mean?"

"I told you she kicked my former tenants. You know they deserved that. She also bit my father-in-law. I was so proud of her because someone needs to knock him down a few pegs. But she's older now and using words. She cut up this little girl in the park yesterday and told her she wasn't pretty."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. But the other girl started it, so she had it coming too."

"I see what you mean now."

"So, what do you think about it?"

Oof. Why does he always put me in this position? I have a lot of feelings about this, but I'm sure none of them are what he wants to hear. But what kind of friend would I be if I said nothing? I'd feel terrible if Tami grew up to be a monster, knowing I had the opportunity to shed some light early on. It won't be comfortable, but I've got to at least try. Here goes nothing.

"I think ... You're my boy, and I'll always tell you the truth, so ... You're her dad, Dub. You should be the one telling her those things are wrong, not encouraging her bad behavior. I know you think all those folks got what they deserved, which is also problematic, but is that the message you want to send Tami? That she can do and say whatever she wants and get away with it because 'they deserved it?' I'm afraid of the path you're putting her on. What kind of a woman will she become if you let her continue on like this? Do you think of her future?"

"Of course I do! What kind of a-"

He paused, succumbing to the realization I was right, even though I wondered if I had gone too far.

"I'm sorry if I'm out of line," I said. "I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't care."

"No. You're right. You always are. I was just thinking about what my parents will say if they find out how she's been acting. There's no way in hell they would have let me get away with the stuff I let slide."

I can't imagine my parents letting us get away with that either, but I honestly don't know what they would have done. Me and Less never really got into trouble, and my parents were both so lenient. I guess I'll never know. Hopefully, I'll never have to talk to Desi about this.

"I'm glad you always keep it 100 with me," he continued. "That's why I trust you so much. Can't lie, though. That hurt, but I know I needed to hear it. Deep down, I knew, but I never saw it like that. I'll do better, though. Believe that."

"I believe it, man. We don't play about our daughters."

"We absolutely do not!"

Not that I don't love these deep conversations with my best friend, but that one got really heavy, and he clearly has a lot to mull over later, so I pulled out my phone and showed him our new home, hoping a lighter topic would do the trick.

[novankenn]

Nora in : Tea with Jaune's family... Saphron

It took Nora another three days to get the burning need with in her under control... and it had exhausted her to the point of collapse, which earned her a trip to the infirmary. Now confined to bed, and being waited on by Jaune, Nora had time to reflect on those two encounters.

She really did like Jaune, she just wasn't sure if it was a "forever-forever" type of like-like. Though, after getting dosed twice with aphrodisiacs, she was looking at things slightly differently. Jaune was a catch, and just being around him, she knew he would probably make a good father... and of course if they did have kids they would be ultra...

Nora: WHAT am I thinking?!? (Shakes her head) WHY am I thinking like that?!?

It was then Jaune entered the room with a tray of food for her.

Jaune: Hey. How are you feeling?

Nora: Hey. Still tired. What did you bring me?

Jaune: Nothing much, just a couple turkey sandwiches, and some fruit punch. I'll just put them on your night table.

Nora: Thank you.

Jaune: Are you going to be okay for a little bit? I can call off my session with Pyrrha if...

Nora: I'll be fine. You get your training in, and I'll get some rest.

Jaune: (Moves up to her and gently kisses her forehead) Remind me to take you somewhere nice once you feel better.

Nora: Count on it.

Shortly after Jaune left, Nora, snuggled down into her blankets and drifted off to sleep.

????: Oh, these are delicious! No wonder Jaune is bulking up so well. All that training and good food! What do you think, Adrian?

Adrian: (Incoherent baby noises)

Nora: Wait? What?

????: I'm sorry, I hope we didn't wake you.

Nora opens her eyes and instantly sits ramrod straight. She was back in that room again. Looking to her left she sees him, Bob the Beowulf and his silver serving tray. Slowly, she moves her head to find an adorable toddler seated on the lap of a young blond woman, who was definitely related to Jaune.

Saphron: Hi, Nora. It's a pleasure to finally met you. I'm Jaune's sister Saphron Cotta-Arc, and this little bundle of joy is Jaune's nephew Adrian. Say hi Adrian.

Adrian: (Baby noises)

Nora: H... hi.

Saphron: So, I KNOW you've met granny and mom, and I would like to take this moment to apologize for their behaviour. They did the same to my wife just after we started dating.

Nora: Seriously?

Saphron: Yes. How do I put it... they both take the continuation of the Arc line very seriously.

Nora: They're baby crazy.

Saphron: That too.

Nora: Are you?

Saphron: No, no, I'm just here to say hi, introduce you to this little guy.

Nora: So no (eyes the tea cups on Bob's tray) funny business with the tea.

Saphron: Heavens no.

Nora: That's a relief. (Nora starts to eye Adrian, an urge to hold him building with in her.)

Saphron: Would you like to hold him?

Nora: I...

Saphron: It's okay. He hasn't been fusing, so he should be fine. So, would you?

Nora: I... please?

Saphron rose from her seat and brought Adrian to Nora. While supporting Adrian on her hip, she used her free hand to guide Nora into a better position, before gently setting the youngest of the Arc clan in Nora's arms.

Adrian: (Content Baby Noises)

Saphron: You're a natural.

Nora: Huh?

Saphron: (Leans in and whispers into Nora's ear) You're a natural with babies. You'll make a great mom... so strong and full of love...

Nora: I...

Saphron: (Still whispering in Nora's ear, while gently touching her shoulders from behind) Doesn't he just make your heart want to burst?

Nora: I...

Saphron: (Whispering) Stop fighting it... Nora. I can see it in your eyes.

Nora: See?

Saphron: (Whispering) You want one, I would guess you want more than one child, don't you?

Nora: I... what?

Saphron: We have a VERY large family... you could be part of it... you could help it grow...

Nora: ...

Saphron: Come to momma, my big boy.

Saphron moved from behind Nora and effortlessly scooped Adrian back up. She turned to face the stunned Nora, a mischievous smile on her face.

Saphron: It has been a pleasure to met you, Nora, and I do hope you come to visit during the holidays. But it is this little guy's nap time, so I must be off.

Nora:...

Saphron: (Stops just before exiting through one of the many doors.) Oh, and be a dear, and finish your tea. It would be a shame for it to go to waste.

Nora robotically nodded and took the cup offered by Bob and drowned it in a single gulp. A few minutes after Saphron and Adrian left, he eyes grew heavy and she nodded off. He woke with a start a moment later, finding herself once again in JNPR's dorm, with all her teammates fast asleep. She glanced at her nightstand, seeing only the plastic food tray Jaune had brought her earlier, though one of the sandwiches was gone...

Nora: (Whispering) What the...

Slowly, she reached up to rub her face, and was assaulted with the scent of fresh baby powder. Her eyes grew wide, as Saphron's words filtered back to the fore of her mind, and a familiar churning sensation began to build with in her again. She turned to look at her sleeping boy-friend, and the heat grew. Biting her lip, she took several deep breaths to regain control of herself.

Nora: (Breathing heavily through her nose as she whispers) Once I get over this newest batch... you and I need to talk, Jaune.

As she tried to settle back down and get back to sleep, Saphron's words again started to circle about in her head, and with a final look at Jaune before she forced herself to roll over and away from him...

Nora: (Whispering) We would have adorable... no, no, no. Stop it Nora. Just stop.

(Master List)

[persicipen]

𝐼. 𝓛𝒂𝒑𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒍𝒊.

𝐬𝐞𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲. ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

₊ ˙ ⊹ . about the storm raging through the night, the abyssal creature of ethereal features, the warmth of the stove.

ৎ୭ — · · 3.8k ノ fem reader — folktales au. no warnings for now. just some world building of the au. should be gn reader here but future chapters will be fem. first meeting with dragon neuvi. slightly ooc neuvillette — less human and not bound by the court. no beta i’m alone in this hehe but i hope it will be a nice read ♡

Beware the waters deep and blue, Where dragons’ whispers call to you. The sea will sing its siren’s song, And draw you where you don’t belong.

This is what kids here sing when playing another version of hide and seek, unknown to you, as you stroll through the morning market. Slightly over-ripe apples and quinces pile up on top of wooden carts, golden marzipan shines on display inside the window of the sweet shop, a gem among everyday pastries and baked goods.

As the grocery shopping was as boring as usual, you wondered about the rhyme, but only vaguely. Maybe some older folks will know the legends that inspired the verses to bloom or can point at the books in the library that have tasty remnants from local legends on their yellowed pages.

“Oh, you know, the same old story — someone’s daughter drowned, and they had to find a better explanation than their child’s stupidity,” one of the older ladies started the daily dose of gossip after hearing what’s on your mind.

Regardless of your willingness to join the elderly tea party at the outside table of the cafe, you’re pulled by their curious eyes and a free chair right next to them.

“Don’t be rude, Celine! There are some who quite recently lost their family to the flood!” complained the one to the left, adding a third spoon of sugar to her teacup.

“Well, it’s quite romantic if you consider it a suicide. Happened quite a few times in the history of our village. Some people long to reunite with nature,” said the one to the right, playing with her golden jewellery that probably weighed more than the bones of her skinny wrists.

“Like I said, stupidity! Do not listen to her, sugar! Bernadette is still mourning a lover from half a century ago who tried to convince her to take a dip together, and when she refused, he forgot about her!” bit back Celine, this time almost coughing into the black coffee she tried to drink while talking.

“Some say he simply moved to the city for better prospects. Well, since he hasn’t ever returned, it must’ve been successful,” added Bernadette, combing through her beetroot-crimson locks, dyed not long ago, before taking a sip of the mixture that’s probably more sugar than tea by now.

“I don’t blame him! The air here is foul!”

“Let them say what they want, but there’s still more magic present here, on the outskirts of civilization, than in the middle of the capital. It’s not for everyone!”

“You mean that kelpie that roams between the lake and the shore?”

“For example. You can’t find a kelpie in the metropolis, am I right?”

“It’s dangerous!”

“It wouldn’t eat you, anyway. You’re all bones and too bitter!”

The elderly ladies didn't stop gossiping for another hour, and it was too boring to listen to their recounts of good old days and how nowadays it’s all bad.

Now, back to the reason why you returned here—

Without any sense of purpose in the city anymore, you went back to the small village by the sea where you had lived before. Tranquil, secluded, and adorned with an antiquated charm, it had all the qualities you needed and none of the numbing, pulsing pace of the capital. Here, it was just wind, sand, and water, and your quaint little cottage with its direct view of the beach from the windows.

In the embrace of this village, you found yourself drawn to spending hours gazing out those windows, lost in thoughts and appreciating the ever-changing nature. Sometimes the weather was delicate, a pearlescent light seeping down onto the damp land, casting a silvery hue across the sands. Other times, it was brash, sudden, dark, and cut with blinding thunders, the sky tearing open to reveal the raw power of the elements. Morning mists covered the flat ground like a blanket, their fingers curling around the village, and even from a distance, the humid cold wafted in through the front door whenever you dared to take a peek outside.

Your life is alright now. Peaceful, at last. Too early for retirement, but perhaps none of the careers available in the principal city of the region were for you. You see and greet the old ladies you knew from your youth, tending to their plots of vegetables and flowers while listening to their gossip. Old ladies are always full of it and more than excited to share the sweet news with someone else.

Each day in the village feels like a page from a folktale, the air thick with stories from years before—no one even remembers who thought of it first, who added the unrealistic situations, and who told the truth. You hear whispers of ancient prophecies carried on the salty breeze, legends that have woven themselves into the very fabric of this place. The market is a trove of mysteries, where you sort through trinkets and treasures, each one with a story of its own.

The villagers speak of the sea serpents and dragons who sometimes venture too far into the bay, abandoning their kingdom of rough waves and open seas to take a rest through spring and autumn seasons. The sea itself is a living entity, its moods shifting from serene calm to tempestuous fury. On calm days, the water is a mirror, reflecting the sky’s soft blues and the occasional wisp of a cloud, pearlescent light seeping down onto damp land. But when storms roll in, the ocean roars and crashes against the spiky stones guarding the gulf, brash, sudden, dark and cut with blinding thunders right behind the nook. You find solace in these rhythms, the ways of nature comforting you in a way the city never could.

In your little cottage, surrounded by the mists, you’re stuck seeking a new purpose. Sorting letters at the nearby post office becomes a ritual, a way to connect with the lives and stories of the villagers. Each envelope, each package, a fragment of someone’s existence, a thread in the tapestry of the village’s collective narrative.

As the days blend into a gentle, melancholic rhythm, you start to understand why the villagers lean into experiencing the magical encounters. Partly because the days are dull, but there’s something in the air—an electrifying howl that brings pure magic from both the sea and the hills. It is said that the creatures appear to those who truly listen, who open their hearts to the whispers of the waves and the winds. You find yourself dreaming of the serpents and the dragons, perhaps having a preference for water beasts instead of these cutting through the air. Their shimmering scales and ancient eyes reappear whenever you drift off during your naps, feeling a connection that defies explanation. In these dreams, the dragon speaks to you in a language you cannot decipher yet understand the meaning within your soul, its voice a symphony of the sea.

Your return to the village is more than a retreat from the city; it is a journey into the heart of the unknown, a quest for meaning in a world of mist and magic. Here, in this place where time seems to stand still, maybe you will find yourself, too.

The transition from the early spring to a muggy start of the summer brings storms more violent than the winter ones. The bay is safe, but the roar of the sea and coal-black clouds wander into the land, rustling against your windows when you sip on the afternoon tea, warmly wrapped in the blanket while reading a book too old to guess its title from the worn-out cover.

It’s hard to focus on words, though. You still think about the fisherman who, earlier that week, caught a mermaid in his nets, all accidentally, but it worked as a catalyst for more exceptional meetings between the villagers and the magical creatures. The couple that rides the britzka to deliver the packages claimed they’d seen a dead kelpie further down the shore, devoured by something more evil—dangerous to horses, but not for humans, they quickly assured.

Your mind drifts to the dreams you’ve been having about the serpents and the dragons. They come in vivid fragments, again, taking your attention away from the printed sentences. It all leaves you with an inexplicable yearning, a sense that your life is intertwined with the mysteries of the sea in ways you are only beginning to understand.

A sudden flash of lightning illuminates the room, followed almost immediately by a crack of thunder that shakes the walls. Startled, you set your book aside and move to the window, peering through the rain-streaked glass. The weather outside is ferocious, waves sliding far onto the beach and taking the soil into the depths, carving new puddles and meanders. As you watch, something catches your eye—a figure, shining like a fallen star and indistinct, sprawled on the sand where the sea meets the land. Such a violent storm brought a creature to the shore.

“W-what is this…?” You mutter to yourself, struck with worry.

You throw on a cloak and rush out, the wind and rain lashing against you as you make your way to the shore.

The unconscious beast lies motionless, half-buried in the wet, murky sand, its chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

You would’ve thought it was a human at first, but as soon as you searched around its body for human traits, all you could focus on were the scales, the slippery skin, the bluish tints of the beautifully pale arms. The hair, iridescent and tangled with the sea foam, frames a face that is eerily beautiful and hauntingly white. A man, probably, so you hesitate to bring him home, but there’s no other place to help him.

Leaving him during a heavy rain on the beach would simply mean finding his dead body the next morning.

Gently, you kneel beside him, pausing only for a moment before you slip your arms under his body. It feels cool and strangely slick to the touch, but you manage to lift it, surprised by its lightness. Struggling against the wind, you carry him back to your cottage, your steps quickened by the urgency of the storm and the fragility of the being in your arms. Never has the short distance between your doors and the shore taken you so long to cross, inflicting panic along your limbs.

It doesn’t seem like it should stop pouring outside anytime soon when you set the unconscious body on the floor, dragging your hands across your face to wipe away the droplets running down from your hairline.

The pale man lies motionless, save for the rise and fall of his chest. Gently, you examine his face, with its long, elegant nose and high cheekbones, noticing how each trivial feature works together to create a visage that is oddly ethereal and entirely entrancing. You feel compelled to trace your fingers across it, to confirm the solidity of its beauty. It’s cold under your touch, a few grains of sand sticking to the clammy skin, yet still looking remarkably human, except for the hair, tinted a bluish shade from seawater. Even old people from the village have their hair muddy, incomparable to his starlight silver tresses.

Relieved that he is alive and in the warmth of your house regaining colour on his cheeks, you dash to prepare a bath. Scented with healing salt, you worry if it’s not too piping hot for him because the steam covers the entirety of your small bathroom. Some spare clothes — shirts too big for you and bought on a whim for a tiny price in one of the thrift stores of the city of Fontaine — are waiting on a chair nearby for when he’d be ready.

By the time you return to him, he’s blinking in a daze, half-sitting, half-lying.

“How do you feel?” you ask, helping him stand up. His long, sinewy limbs work perfectly, showing no signs of fatigue or pain from his body dragging against the stormy ocean, trying to cling onto survival. “I… my apologies for bringing you here! I feared you would be in danger if I didn’t bring you in.”

“Thank you for your concern…” His voice is weak, whispery like a lone gust of wind along the flat shore, the roar of the sea having been nothing but a memory now. He touches his forehead with his delicate fingers, shaking his head slightly. “It must’ve been terrible to wander outside during a storm.”

Despite your willingness to continue the conversation, you weren’t entirely sure if he’s strong enough to put him through questioning. Your head is bursting with doubts. To prevent it from overwhelming you in an instant, you change the topic, informing him about the readied bath and gently guiding him toward the inner door.

“You must be cold. I don’t want you to get sick, so please… I hope I can help you this much, at least with a bit of hospitality from my side. At least for the night.”

He only nods, entering the other room. When he raises his hands to reach out for the bathtub, the muscles move under the skin like slender fish, agile and beautiful.

“I will leave you alone now, but call for me if you need anything.”

You knock every so often to check on him, clean the rest of the main room while he takes a while, warming up and getting dressed. Forcing yourself to work on something, you push the worries to the back of your mind, folding the bedsheets with trembling fingers.

To have a stranger late at night in your house… not entirely human, a watery creature of handsome features. Who knows what can possibly happen if he stays here past midnight? But how could you throw someone out into the cold evening with nowhere else to go?

“Excuse me?” he calls softly, stepping behind you and catching you off-guard. “I apologise for presenting myself in such a state… It was not my intention to scare you off or to have you drag me out of the waters, risking your own health… Are you alright?” He pauses, not coming closer in regard to your comfort.

You look down at yourself, remembering only now that the sleeves of your chemise and the hem got soaked outside, and you forgot to change with all the cleaning activities you’ve been doing around the house.

“Yes, I am,” you breathe out, biting back the shame, turning fully to face him and offering a polite smile. “It’s me who should ask if you’re alright…”

He lets out a sigh, shaking his head slowly. “Nothing of your concern, rest assured. It might’ve been irresponsible of me to wander out of safety into the storm.”

“I… who… what are you exactly?” you mumble, picking up his damp clothes, a rag, what you would call in your mind but are too afraid to say out loud, from the floor. “Some sort of local deity?”

“A water dragon. But yes, known in this region very well. Most have seen my image through raindrops on their windows and the clouds gathering during stormy days.” He braids his shining palladium locks together with indigo strands growing out of his head, perhaps a pair of soft horns that look more like long ribbons in the shade of the clear depths.

“A dragon!” you repeat.

He chuckles softly. “You’ve never heard about them in myths? They’re common all around these parts.”

“I did! Yes, of course! It’s just… quite unthinkable, won’t you agree?” You turn your gaze to the floor. “I must sound like a fool.”

“Not at all. I’m sure your curiosity is reasonable.” He continues his soft smile, bringing in front of him the delicate hands, their webs shimmering in the dim light of the living room. “I owe you my life, after all. Even I have limits and a storm like the one wrecking havoc outside is no less lethal to me as to humans at sea… May I sit?”

You nod and start rummaging through the drawers and shelves of your kitchen in search of something to give him for dinner, feeling rude for not having prepared anything sooner. The small stove — if the warm embers were to be called so — was not to be used today anymore. Perhaps there’s still some leftovers from lunch, but that would be ridiculous to offer to someone who looks almost immaculate, dressed in your shirt with sleeves rolled up, save for his still damp hair. An evil twist of fate, to have a sudden guest of unimaginable elegance and charm, yet nothing of equal value to feed him. The plan was to get groceries tomorrow.

“A-Are you hungry? Or in need of a drink?”

“Not necessarily, though I do appreciate your kind offer. A warm water or tea will suffice.”

You set the kettle, unsure of what else to do. With a soft purring of the water inside and the creak of wood inside the stove, you shuffle your weight from one leg to another, clearly stiff under the unusual atmosphere. He seems of no danger, a subtle and slow creature resembling a true gentleman, if you were to describe him to someone else. Almost human, maybe even enough for you to forget about the mystical traits once you part with him, your memory remembering only a man washed ashore.

“So… Water dragons,” you start, afraid of where the conversation may lead to, “the village has many legends about dragons. Well, I wanted to believe them all… But to know that it’s really true, right here in front of me. Well, now it seems like a different tale.”

He hums softly in response, looking at you with attentive eyes, sincere yet somewhat guarded. He’s hesitant to give away too much, it seems.

“What are they like? W-what is your kin doing here? If… If I may ask.”

He ponders on it for a moment, no harm in your innocent question besides being slightly invasive. What a mere mortal may want to know about magical species? After all, he’s been returning to the bay exactly because of those good elemental energy currents — they must be affecting people living here, too.

“Well, dragons live mostly in solitude, having large territories for themselves. Though, mostly there’s a certain purpose behind it. But I shall spare you the monotonous details.” He holds his hands together, leaning back in the chair. “Peninsulas and bays are relatively safe, so we come there to rest, to mate, to remake old spells guarding the shore, to replenish mana near our birthplace.”

You listen closely, staring at the ceiling and praying that the water will boil faster, soon, to give you an excuse to step away. Not only from the embarrassment of these topics, but the throbbing in your chest making it difficult to breathe, an unfamiliar smell reaching your nose, coating your lungs with a sweetness hard to get outside the honey delivery to the market. It’s not tea, not this time, albeit you picked a good one, a special one to treat your guest with generous care.

“Huh…”

“Is everything alright?” He stops the monologue, cautiously eyeing your silhouette.

“Just tired. It must be the pressure change from the weather. I usually am not performing any exercises at this hour. I… I would be going to bed soon, actually.” Admitting it turns into a pang of guilt dashing across your shoulders.

“Would you like me to stay somewhere else? I don’t want to cause any trouble…”

“N-No! Please, worry not!” You shake your head, surprised by the sound of your own voice dying in the stuffy air of the cottage. “There’s nowhere else to go at this hour here… I thought of taking you to the doctor in the morning. But I cannot imagine letting you out during the storm! Even a short walk to the closest neighbour is too risky now…” You admit with defeat, not wishing to sound that desperate. Albeit, appearing too caring is still better than treating a presumably wounded guest with icy coldness.

The nameless visitor just glances across your body, eyebrows furrowed in a handsome expression of concern — that would not be gentlemanly to let you suffer from the exhaustion just because he was careless in his sea ventures. How are you even that trusting, even more after he revealed his true nature? Shouldn’t humans be scared or suspicious in such moments? Is there really no other way and you play along, acting like it doesn’t bother you — but in reality, it does?

He sighs, letting go of the topic, at least for the time being, while you’re busy hiding your emotions behind the act of pouring tea into the cups. Observant of your actions, as if waiting for a chance, he keeps his iridescent eyes on your hands.

“Do you need help with that? You’re shaking. Careful with the boiling water…” He muses quietly, but the answer is in your reluctant headshake.

The gentle dance of fiery pixies from the candles and the lamps scattered on shelves and other flat surfaces around the house gives a vibe much warmer than the actual temperature inside. You never liked fire, to be honest, not that much, but at this hour you wouldn’t say no to a gentle flame coaxing you into its arms for warmth and solace. For all the issues your little stove causes you per year, you’re glad it’s enough to heat your creaky cottage during the colder months.

When you pass him a cup, his webbed fingers linger around yours a little longer than necessary.

What was this peculiar feeling? Wasn’t it just you misinterpreting the situation? Everything was weird since the moment you met him. How could you know if he truly does not possess the will to harm you? So far, you were ready to invite him in, offer him a spare bedroom, lend him some of your clothes. But just when you started questioning your decision, you wobble on your legs and lose your balance.

There’s a feeling of emptiness around you, so precipitous that your knees bend and you close your eyes with an exclamation. The man reaches out, catching you before you fall to the floor, already unconscious…

For those who gaze into the tide, May find their hearts with dragons tied. But heed this warning, lest you fall, The sea’s embrace will claim you all.

[kejacomo-blog]

sometimes a pony gets depressed

I’ve been depressed for a while.  I mean. I guess I’ve always carried some kind of baggage with me. I’ve probably needed therapy for a long time, but I’ve never had a therapist.  I’ve been on anti-depressants, but it was a minuscule dose and I never really felt a perceptible difference. 

Each time the prescription was about to run out, I had to go to my pharmacy, and they had to fax my GP, who faxed them back? I think? Then I had to go back and pay a chunk of money, even after my student insurance covered 70% of it (iirc). On top of not perceiving any difference, going through these stilly hoops, and still paying a decent amount of money, my poor ass eventually just stopped taking the meds (self-inflicted poorness btw). 

I guess I thought that since I was graduating soon, I’d get a job in my field, things would fall into place, and I’d be ok. That... has not happened so far. 

And there’s not much to look forward to

.  I don’t have close friends 

(my fault for pushing ppl close to me away, not replying to messages, being socially awkward/introverted/anxious/shy however you want to slice it)

I don’t have money 

(my fault for being too lazy to get a job while in school and spending all my savings on rent, and misc. purchases) 

The dating scene is even more sparse than it was when I lived in the city 

(moved back home with the ‘rents to stop my wallet from bleeding and // it was the only way to get my ex to also move out of the studio apartment that we shared for 9 months post-break up. yup. also no rizz/no $ isn’t good for dating)

I don’t feel completely supported at home 

Maybe this will sound like my blaming others for part of my depression. but whatever. idc, it’s what I feel. About a year ago I realized that I am likely on the autism spectrum. I brought it up one day to my mom and we had a discussion on why I thought this way and some of my behaviours as a child. Even talked about that time in 4th grade when me and some of my peers were separated from our regular class to do some learning assessments or sth. Some were diagnosed with learning disabilities while the assessors noticed some peculiarities in me but nothing ever came of it. good masking, I guess. Anyway, that conversation was great, but since then neither of us has ever mentioned it again. Similar story with my depression. A few years ago, it eventually got to a point where it had to be addressed, and I had some conversations with her about it. It was easy to see it was hard on her. Maybe I should give her more slack. I can tell she tries in her own way to cheer me up. But it’s hard when the last conversation that we had about my depression ended with her reassuring me that she would check in every few days with me. And that conversation was... 1.5 years ago? 2? I guess she did check in with me about it a few weeks ago. But I was already too closed off by then. My brother is open to conversation but our worldviews are a bit different and historically I haven’t felt supported by him in the ways I would like to be supported. Always very solution-based with solutions that I do not vibe with, for that matter. My dad is very kind, but not very ‘emotionally available’, as they say. My sister is great for the support I require, but even she has a lot that she’s dealing with and I don’t want to push all my baggage onto her. So after cycling through all of that, it comes back to me having to get myself out of this hole somehow.

I don’t even know what happened to this formatting.

Just trying to get through the day doing different things because I am not finding joy in my usual things which is a bit concerning. I am reading a little more, though, which is good. And trying to get away from doomscrolling. 

Well. Maybe I feel a little better. Idk.

What else...

idk just being a poor, undiagnosed neurodivergent adult with no close frens just isn’t it. bleh.

At least I have things that I want to do in life still, food, a home, a family, etc. Could always be worse...

[creationofacentury]

Tiny problem - P2

Summary: The hermits has an emergency meeting while Scar and Grian trying to calm the crying Scar-ling. (Wow would you look at that, it’s only p2 and we are having a filler chapter. Daily dose of mini hermits, Self-indulgent af, be careful.)

Relationship: Friendship! 

Character: BDoubleO100, Docm77, FalseSymmetry, GeminiTay, Grian, ImpulseSV, Keralis, MumboJumbo, PearlescentMoom, Renthedog, GoodTimeWithScar, Xisumavoid, Zedaph, ZomebieCleo

Notes: This is strictly about their MC personas, DO NOT take this seriously, DO NOT harass them with these works. Don’t re-post. (Reblog are welcome!)

P1 (Recommend reading part one first.)

-

“So what you are saying is that if we die, we have a child.” Doc says with one eyebrow raised, “How does that work? And why?”

“You skipped a lot of details, but yeah. Couldn’t sum it up better myself.” Xisuma tap on something in front of him and gestures the spawn area around them, “As you guys can see, the server is very laggy lately. I think the amount of information it processed broke something, but I can’t pinpoint what exactly went wrong.” Xisuma stops at that. Everyone is quietly waiting for him to go on, except for Mumbo, shuffling his feet on the ground and holding the egg like it’s a bomb. “I may need some time, so before I figure out what’s wrong, I need you guys to stay safe and don’t die.”

“Do we wrap Scar in bubble wraps?” Bdubs asks.

“But for how long? That’s a bit inhumane.” Ren says hesitantly.

“No, Ren,” False state, “I don’t think Bdubs actually meant it.”

“Ooo I mean it! With my whole heart!”

“Peeps, live as normal as possible is the goal, and wrapping Scar up isn’t really a realistic thing to do.” Xisuma reasons. He is still searching franticly in his communicator.

“I don’t understand, where does the child come from?”

“Zedaph, you see, when two people are in love-”

“NO REN, I swear to- you are doing this on purpose!” False yells.

Xisuma is very used to this, so he just continues: “When we die, normally there’s a head drop, right? But I...” Xisuma saw something in his communicator and frowns, “The egg Mumbo is holding right now was with his inventory drops when he went to get them. And the same thing happened to Scar, and that one has hatched already. Now you have one too, Zedaph.”

Zedaph observe the egg in his hands, “Instead of head drop, now we get eggs? And they hatch?” Xisuma nods. “Fascinating. So cool...”

“This the opposite of cool,” Cleo mumbles, “No one here knows a thing about taking care of a child, how is this cool? It’s a disaster, I tell you.”

A shriek comes out from Mumbo. Everyone turns to look at him. The egg in his hand glows so bright it’s hard to see what happens. A loud sound of something cracking-

“Oh my word.” Mumbo utters.

“Oh my word.” The little boy in Mumbo’s hand mimics, staring Mumbo with wide eyes. He’s in a suit (of course he is in a suit), and it looks ridiculous. 

“That’s so weird...” Keralis is in awe, walking towards Mumbo to get a good look.

“I think we should plan for a supporting system.” Gem suggest. “A nursery, maybe?”

“Yeah, even if we are careful, there will still be accidents. Prepare ahead is a good idea, I am on board!” Ren pipes up.

“Then we take turns talking care of the nursery?” Pearl asks.

“Yeah! That’s a good idea!” Gem bumps Pearls shoulder and turn towards Xisuma. “X, should we vote?”

And everyone agrees. Gem is the one responsible for the construction of the build, since this is her idea.

“Brilliant. I will try my best to fix it as quick as possible.” Xisuma close his communicator. “For now, please stay safe, guys.” And the meeting ends.

-

GoodTimeWithScar had never been this afraid in his life. Welp, he’s- nervous, probably, so it’s not afraid. But the bubbly feeling in his chest does feel like afraid to him. He need his baby Yoda, which- he left the baby Yoda at season 7. His Baby Yoda was so small and cute and such an adorable gremlin-

The little Scar-ling- that’s what Scar decide to call him- haven’t stop crying and whatever Scar does the tears just keeps rolling. Scar just realizes, maybe not- not baby Yoda, perhaps. Because baby Yoda is also a child. He really can’t deal with another child-egg-thing (that could actually hatch-) right now.

“Are you doing okay, Scar? X told me I should help you.” Grian walks though the door and greets Scar.

“Grian! Oh my gosh, yes, the kid haven't stop crying! What do I do?”

Grian looks like he doesn’t know, either. “I think you, er...” He reaches his hands out to adjust Scar’s posture. “Does this feel right? I think you were holding him wrong, you should make sure your one hand is under him-” The Scar-ling suddenly cries harder. Grian looks like he is totally freaking out now. “I- I don't know! Scar, what do we do?!”

“Uh, hush little baby, don’t-” Scar tries to sing a lullaby. Doesn’t work. The Scar-ling now looks like he’s hyperventilating. “Ahh!”  Scar panics and shoves the child into Grian’s arms.

“Scar! What-”

“He- I panicked!”

Grian gives him a frantic look, and start to rock the child, “Rain, rain, go away, come again another day,” Grian sings gently and let the Scar-ling’s head rest on his shoulder. “Little Jonny wants to play...” He pat the child’s back with carefulness, and keep singing in a silent voice. 

Scar is...strangely mesmerized, watching intently as the child gradually calms down, and he smiles. He tries to catch Grian’s eyes. Grian raise his gaze and gives Scar a questioning look, but his singing continues.

After a while, “Scar, is he asleep?”

Scar checks Scar-ling’s face. “Yeah.”

“Good, my arms are sore.” He passes back the child to Scar very carefully.

Xisuma peeks in, “Hi, Grian, Scar, the meeting’s over. Is everything alright? Sorry I had to exclude you guys, but I was worried little Scar would be overwhelmed by the people there. ”

“It’s fine. The little guy is asleep.” Grian straighten his back and massage his upper arm, “How did the meeting go?”

“We decided to build a nursery, Gem is in charge of it.”

“Oh, okay.”

“And Mumbo’s egg hatched, by the way.”

“It hatched?”

“Yeah, I think I am a father, now, Grian.” Mumbo walks in with the little Mumbo sitting on his shoulder. “This is so surreal. Ah- My hair!”

“Hey, how come your youngling are so quiet? Mine was crying the whole time until-”

“Scar, lower your voice, you are going to wake him up!”

“Well look at you two, fight like a married couple.” Mumbo quips. Grian is having none of it, “Mumbo Jumbo, you better watch out for your copper. Or the door of your vault, ‘cuz something will happen to them, I promise.” Mumbo looks alert, trying to come up with a response.

“I am really sorry, I will fix this as quick as possible.” Xisuma says dejectedly.

Scar was going to comfort Xisuma when the little Mumbo on Mumbo’s shoulder jump down onto Xisuma’s helmet, slides down and block Xisuma’s face. “Ah-!” Mumbo yelps, trying to grab the child. Xisuma gets very still.

“Don’t be sad.” It sounds small and high-pitched. The little Mumbo hugs Xisuma’s helmet.

“Aww, he is comforting you!” Scar melts.

“...Thank you, little one.” Xisuma gently grabs the child and put him on the ground. He gives the little Mumbo a pat on the head. “You guys take care okay? I should start fixing this right away, I will see you guys later.” Xisuma walks out of the door at that before Scar can say a word.

-

There’s a silence after Xisuma walks out. Then Scar remembers: “Wait- What? Mumbo, your youngling can talk?!”

“Youngling? Oh, um, yeah, yours can’t?”

The Scar-ling wakes up to the shouting. He look at Scar for one second and starts to cry, reaching for Grian.

“Scar! What did I tell you?!” Grian chastises Scar and takes the child with a almost practiced manner. rocking the child with quiet murmur. The Scarling’s cry turns into sniffling in mere seconds.

“How- Grian, how are you so good at this?! You have only hold him once!” 

“Shh, Scar, you are scaring him!” Mumbo whispers. Oh he is doing this to irritate him.

Scar thinks to himself, this is nonsense, I am so offended. But the smile still creep up on his face anyway.

-

Previous - P2 - Next

what is this 

While writing this, I did some research, and I got inspired so much by @theminecraftbee. Poor Jevin, I can’t help but laugh and feel bad for him at the same time. (Also if you see this, thank you so much! High chance that I saw Jevin’s egg disaster and got inspired and started the story without realizing it was you! Wait- is this allowed? Tell me if not!)

Anyway, I grind out part two! To be honest, not really satisfied with this, but I can’t think of anything better for this scene at the moment. I may revisit this and make some changes in the future, but for now, this works.

Did I mention that in the previous part, hermits couldn’t stop calling Scarling ‘it’? I personally find it very funny, because they are just so unfamiliar with children they call a child ‘it’ thought it’s weird since it was written by me who finds their own joke funny it’s cringe. I also hesitated over whether or not to post this for a while. Welp. Imma just roll with it like a irresponsible failure that I am and how is my note longer than my fic

But seriously, thank you guys so much for the likes and reblog! I read every tags and comments in the previous part, and I am overwhelmed with the responds it got. 200 notes! That’s so surreal to me. Thank you!!! Feel free to point out spelling mistakes and weird phrases and whatever, I really need it ;-;

(Also there are some people that mentioned Zedaph’s ‘too lat’, glad you guys like it!)

edit 5/18: omg how could I forget the bubble wrap idea came from @pixie-mage’s comment on the last part! Thank you sm my friend!!

[romirola]

Heya if you have the time can i get a "i... i swore to protect you... and now look at you." from the protection promt thingy for vincent/lovely? Im here for the angst and I thought it would fit them ya know cuz of adam and all that

Hi, Anon! Thanks for your request. You sure can get that, though I went with some Post-Inversion angst over the Adam incident. Hope you enjoy!

Rating: G, WC: ~1K, Prompts: “I… I swore to protect you… and now look at you,” and Vincent/Lovely

Post-Inversion Aftermath Discussion Below

“I… I just wanted to see the sun again,” Lovely wept. Their mind told them to curl into a ball to escape the waves of burning pain stretching across their skin, but the idea of even moving a muscle filled them with dread at the increase in pain that would cause. “It’s been two months, and I… I…” They broke off to stop themselves from subjecting Vincent to any more of their misery.

“I know, I know,” Vincent Solaire sighed. It was a common, but severely underestimated, impulse of newly turned vampires. All humans, to some extent, craved sunlight. It was a natural instinct. But sunlight was but a deadly siren’s song for vampires. Any slight exposure caused heinous burns and too much sunlight was fatal, despite the powerful magic that protected them from aging and sickness. It was a cruel trade off, but if Lovely wanted to survive and to thrive as a vampire, they were going to have to get used to that new fact. “But you cannot try anything like this ever again.” Vincent shuddered as a memory of Lovely lying in the backyard of his home, shaking and sputtering as they fought against something as seemingly benign as a clear, spring day. “Sunlight is incapacitating even in small doses. And you’re much much more sensitive right now because you’re a newborn. With time and proper protection, you’ll be able to tolerate it,” he repeated to them yet again, like he had been for the last several days. “Not yet.” He sat next to Lovely on their bed, aching to wrap them in a hug but resisting only because he knew more touch would probably bring them more pain until the sores that littered their skin calmed down a bit. “The burns should disappear quickly with your accelerated healing. Hang in there a little longer.”

“I miss it so much.” Lovely gingerly pressed their palms into the mattress to sit up a bit, trying to relieve the pressure on their back. “Even as a child, I loved to be out in the sun. And then, when I got my powers, I felt such a connection to the sun. Like I could feel its rays find their way into me and recharge my threads. I… I know that’s not how it works.” They scratched at a blister on their wrist that had just begun to heal over. “But that’s how it felt, to me. I was an electro. A powerful electro. It saved my life. It brought me to you. And now, and now…” They resumed their sobbing. “I miss the sun. I’ll never feel it like that again, will I?”

Vincent nodded impotently, still wary of touching Lovely but nearly shaking with the need to take them in his arms. “Oh, Lovely, I’m sorry.” He tried to push away the gnawing feeling of guilt that gripped his chest. “I... I swore to protect you... and now look at you." Instead of letting his hands find Lovely, he buried his own forehead into his sweaty palms. “I took it all away when I turned you. If only I had been second faster that day, or stronger, or something. Anything! How could I let those shades anywhere near you? How could I let them almost… almost…?”

Lovely quieted at Vincent’s raw anguish.

He exhaled to steady his nerves. “I failed that day, but I am not going to fail you again, Lovely. I promise. I’m not going to let any harm come to you. Even if that means I’ve got to lock us both in here until your body gets more adjusted to the new magic. Even if I’ve got to put light-blocking curtains over every window in Dahlia. I love you so much, Little One.” He bit his lip hard enough to cause himself pain, wishing he could use it to take away Lovely’s. “I’m so sorry that I took so much away from you so suddenly like that.”

Lovely squinted a bit as they looked at Vincent. They noticed the sallowness of his skin, the droop of his head, the wrinkles in his clothes… He had run himself ragged, doing everything within his power and even a little more than that to help see them through this transitional period. Lovely felt a bit of a burning sensation form in their cheeks, but that feeling had nothing to do with the sunburns.

“You didn’t take anything away from me, Vincent,” they said sheepishly. “You gave me… so much. You saved me that day. You gave me a new life.” They reached out their hand to take hold of Vincent’s wrist. “You gave me a new life with you. I’ve been taking that for granted, only focusing on what I don’t have anymore. I hope you know that even when I do that, I never, ever regretted having you turn me.” They let their lips curl into a smile. “I know we never talked about it, but you have to know I’d thought about being turned at some point in my life, didn’t you?”

Vincent blinked owlishly, speechless at their admission.

“Because I love you, and I want to spend my life with you, as long as you’d have me,” they admitted. “I never said anything because I didn’t want you to feel forced into taking me for, y’know, forever.

“Lovely, no, never,” Vincent denied vehemently. He scooted closer, relieved to see some of their burns fading. “I love you so much. Even forever’s not enough.”

Lovely relaxed their shoulders a bit as the pain in their body faded a little bit. “I love you, too,” they declared. “I know that this won’t be the last time I cry over not being an electro or not seeing the sun or a million other things that come with the territory of being a vampire. But I want this to be the last time that you ever entertain the notion that I regret having you turn me, or that you failed to protect me that day. Just the opposite, Vincent. You saved me.” They decided to fight through their pain and move closer so that they could rest their head on Vincent’s chest. “I wouldn’t trade you for a thousand suns.”

When they seemed to tolerate and even seek out his touch, Vincent gently laid a hand on Lovely’s hip, just a sweet and subtle reminder that he was there for them as he always would be. He did not know if he would ever erase all his guilt regarding Lovely’s turning, but he owed it to them to make the effort as long as they were making the effort to adjust to their new vampire life.

Neither Vincent nor Lovely was perfect, but they could keep trying together for all eternity.

[rayofsunas]

s/o who dies.

A/n: listennnn, I wasn't going to write something dark, but then I unregretfully decided to listen to edgy/dark audios and I was suddenly in the mood to write this so yeah lmao. also, guess what? I'm planning on making a discord server right after posting this! so, be on the lookout for that when I get it all sorted out. also, note for Scaramouche's that the reader inserts tend to lean more femininely versed (I hope that's okay), the only reasons why I do that is because one I simp and I'm female AND two since I am doing a mini-series for Scara, I've kind of based his imagines/fics around that universe (baby daddy universe). I haven't started his yet, but consider these part of that series' universe. anyways as always thank you for requesting anon and enjoy! <333

Summary: you die + how the boys cope afterward.

Parings: Albedo/Gn! Reader, Xiao/Gn! Reader, Scaramouche/Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, death, poison, illness/cancer, murder, arson, obsessive behavior

Word count: 2.1k

Albedo

"You need to keep this on your head." Your lover said for the one-hundredth time, placing the cold cloth on your forehead once again after taking it off only seconds earlier.

"This is pointless," You said, no longer wanting to ignore nor hide behind the invisible thick curtains of the obvious death sentence approaching. "My body rejected the medicine the first twice doses, what's a third time going to do?" You asked, knowing Albedo wouldn't answer; your hope was to knock some sense into his thick skull. but he was too worried trying to ignore the obvious as you had previously been doing, not anymore though.

This was saddening to watch, both Albedo's unfolding and the girl who accidentally poisoned you, whimpering into Sucrose's shoulder. She was only a young girl, barely seventeen when she was chosen to work under Sucrose and your boyfriend. She was very good at Alchemy and luckily had a desire to practice the craft. But unfortunately, she hadn't paid much attention when it came to Surcrose's educational poison lesson and had unknowingly mixed up poisonous liquids and materials.

After tipping over some clutter in Albedo's office and knocking over a test tube laying unsealed on the counter, you had realized the contents spilled on your skin, bleaching into your pores. You had been tasked with bringing the famed alchemist and his assistant some vials and materials for the collection of a rare butterfly they had found. It was both telling and obvious that something was wrong when you never showed up with the required materials requested and it was already too late hours later when the chief Alchemist, his assistant, and Alchemist in training came bounding down the stairs of Albedo's home laboratory.

It didn't take long for the trio to realize something was wrong. Sucrose had found the vile on the floor, most of its contents spilled and in a little puddle, plus your state on a nearby lounge chair was obvious; slumped awkwardly, forehead visibly sweating, eyes closed, breathing raspily.

You accepted the first doses of the supposed nullifying medicine without hesitation, just wanting the numbing feeling to go away. But when it never kicked in you decided it would be best to save the medicine, because it wasn't working. Your time was coming.

"Since the medicine is taking immediate effect, you should try to get the contents out of your system," He said, reaching out for you. Badly you wanted to argue that the medicine wasn't working at all, but he wasn't listening and already has his lean arms wrapped around your middle, helping gently lift and guide you over to the sink.

You hear materials being shoved to the side and soon enough you had your head dangling over the sink, shaking hands gripping the metalled edge tightly. Soon enough, Albedo's hand was on your back rubbing up and down, hoping to comfort you, it wasn't working though. You could only think about your death, what the other side would look like. Could there even be heaven or hell, maybe a place in between, maybe nowhere...?

As soon as you felt the urge to vomit, you did, and despite it being utterly disgusting Albedo seemed to welcome it happily. He took this as something good, but it only worried you when you saw the reddish hues in the bile.

"I think they should leave." You muttered acknowledging Sucrose and Elizabeth, the taste of gooey, metal only becoming more apparent. The blonde agreed, nodding and muttering "Okay."

As Sucrose lead Elizabeth towards the stairs, the pair heard you say. "Goodbye Sucrose, Elizabeth." Which only seemed to make the young girl wail louder.

You sighed sadly once the silence was back. Just your thoughts of death, and Albedo's slowly crushing heart.

"You should probably leave soon as well. I don't want you to be here when I go." Albedo frowned at your statement, head shaking.

"Don't say things like that."

Of course, he'd say that. Why did he feel the need to ignore this when it would only come back to hurt him even more later on when you were gone?

"You're the smartest man I know and we both know where this is heading," You said, head feeling much heavier than before. It was getting closer to your time. "I'm going to die, and you can't do anything about it."

"I'm not leaving your side. We promised to stick together through everything, you can't ask me to leave."

"I guess... But promise me this."

"When I go, stop blaming Elizabeth. It was an accident..." You said sincerely. Albedo wanted to make a fuss about it, tell you he'd never been able to forgive her. But for you, he would try. If it was your list desire, your last wish, he'd make it come true. Though it would be difficult. Accidental or not, she was the reason you were leaving him here, alone.

"Okay, I'll try..." He said honestly.

"Thank you," You said, letting out a shaking breath you had been holding for a very long time. Now you felt much more peaceful. "And since I know you stubbornly won't leave," You started, finally turning away from the sink to look into his cerulean eyes. "At least hold my hand."

"Of course, love."

even a year after your death, no matter how hard he tried, there was still this nagging feeling every time he looked at Elizabeth

he wanted too badly forgive her, but he couldn't

she had, although accidental, taken the one person that meant so much to him and he'd never forgive

Albedo is gonna be distant towards everyone he knows and it's completely purposeful

he doesn't like the pitiful gazes that people send his way and he hates that all the captains stared at him at your funeral

obviously, some questioned if he was able to stay in the field

he hadn't taken any time off, even when Jean advised he was welcome and that it would be best

tbh, albedo's going to have a hard time for a while

Xiao

Why did it have to be you? Why not him? He'd feel much better knowing you could live another day, after all, he'd been living a very long time.

But no, the fallen Archons, Gods, Yaksha had chosen you to join them. He wished that weren't the case

Humans and their pathetic vessels... So weak, he thought. Allowing something like cancer to beat them.

No matter how harsh it sounded, he didn't despise you, no. It wasn't your fault. You didn't ask for this. He just knew that if you were a godly being this wouldn't have happened like this or at least not so soon; Xiao had known Gods that had terminal illnesses to live years. Why couldn't you be like them?

He hated watching you lie there in that bed, immobile, sickly, and tired, and all you could say was that everything was going to be alright, that he'd be alright.

But it wasn't. He wouldn't be okay without you. He would struggle daily, fall deeper into a hole. You were the light of his life, the only light in his life. And you were gone, just like that. Turning external scars into internal ones tattered all over his dying heart.

Xiao for the longest time has been by himself, so the people of Liyue know it'll be harder for him to overcome this, no matter what he says or does to prove otherwise

Zhongli in particular knows how hard this will be for his friend

his first and probably last love, dead, gone in the blink of an eye

he'll continue fighting all the monsters he crosses, becoming even more violent when he does so, trying his best to get rid of this stupid sickly feeling of heartbreak

but it won't go away, no matter what he does, no matter how absurd

he just wants the feeling to go away, he despises that feeling so much

if you have a secret place somewhere, like in the mountains, Zhongli often finds him there, wallowing in invisible self-pity

"You know they wouldn't want you to be like this." Zhongli would say, only trying to help

but it doesn't

it only enrages Xiao, even more, fuels him to push everyone out of his life again instead of letting them in like he'd done in your presence

Scaramouche

How dare you. How dare you leave him like this. Alone, nonetheless with a toddler to raise who kept crying for her mommy. He couldn't do this without you, he didn't know how to raise a child, speak to her with the gentle care that you did. That was your expertise but now he'd be doing it solo.

And never again would he entrust someone who he cares about, into ignorant, incompetent arms. Never again will he ever allow any member of the Fatui to watch after his daughter; no matter their rank or position. They had one job while he was away doing business in Liyue. Guard your home twenty-four seven, accompany you into Inazuma's port town should you need anything, watch after his daughter while she plays happily in the luscious Inazuma fields. And they couldn't do that. All he gave them was one simple task, watch and keep you and your daughter safe. Instead, they slacked off, probably drunk in some bar while you were being brutally attacked by murderous mercenaries, left to fend for you and your daughter, only to die protecting her and leave your home to be severely burned.

He knew those idiotic Fatui soldiers were incompetent the moment he stepped foot into the harbor and found that everyone seemed to quiet down. Especially the eerily silent soldiers flanked on each side to welcome him home; he was the highest-ranking soldier in the land of Inazuma after all. Not a single one bothered to step forward and tell him what was wrong, what they all criminally allowed happen. Scaramouche only realized what had happened when he was mere minutes away from arriving home, his daughter had come running from his widowed mother's arms, the sight of smoke rising in the air, from the direction of his home. You were nowhere to be seen.

It all happened so fast, in the blink of an eye. His daughter was clinging to his shirt and his mother only stared with tears of pity.

It didn't take long for the puzzle pieces to be put together and before he knew it, Scaramouche was standing in front of his home, part of it burnt to a crisp and black.

He didn't need to ask what happened, he didn't need to know where you were, because he already knew. What he didn't know was who exactly had done this. But he was going to find out, now.

Incompetent, selfish, bastards. They would all pay for this. The lazy piggish Fatui soldiers who he should've never trusted with such a simple task and the thieves who had murdered you. They all had it rightfully coming.

Scaramouche hates the world after he lost you

he hates it so much and can't understand how this had happened

he's not a good person, so he blames it on karma and those stupid idiots who couldn't protect you

ngl, he's not gonna be around much after your death... his mother would argue that he should be here to raise your daughter, because she's also in pain and doesn't understand that this isn't some game of hide and seek this time

instead, he's focused and driven by revenge

he doesn't listen to a word anybody says, he's much more dangerous than before, and he only trusts his judgment

anyone trying to get him to stop his mission, is someone who doesn't want to see him happy he thinks (though that's not true at all. they hate that he is obsessive over this) but he will personally put a stop to that

and he'll only return home to his daughter and mother when he finds who did this and they along with their bloodline is exterminated

while he's gone, the remainder of his family is relocated somewhere he knows they'll be safe, for example, even though he despises childe, he knows his mom and daughter will be safe with his family

sorry, but Scaramouche will hold this deep-rooted hatred and love for you after you die

yes, he still loves and misses you dearly, but he hates you for leaving him alone, hates that although it wasn't intentional and out of your control, that you were gone

no matter how hard you tried to fight, it was selfish of you to leave him like this

he's not going to stop until he believes whoever was behind this is dead

and in his case, he'll stop believing when he chooses, even if they are innocent/guilty, he'll keep going

3.19.21, rayofsunas

[kurowrites]

"you asked me to the store with you and your child, and now my distant relative we met thinks im married with a baby" for wangxian :3

I doubt this was the thing you expected, but ... [smashes keyboard]

---

It had been a coincidence, really, nothing that he’d planned. He’d just been on his way out of the door to get his groceries done when he came across one of his neighbours in the entrance hall; the really handsome one with the cute little toddler that always smiled at him. The one where the mother of the child had probably left the picture, because he’d never actually seen her.

Quietly, he wondered what woman would leave a man that was so obviously caring well for his child, and a toddler so friendly and cute, but then, that was really none of his business.

In any case, when he ran into them in the entrance hall of the apartment building, the toddler was having a big temper tantrum (that was a first), and his father, despite his best efforts at calming the child, was completely unsuccessful in stopping the wailing. His usually neutral face was, for once, wrinkled in concern and apparent helplessness.

Wei Ying knew the feeling too well, from similar situations with his own family. Recently, it had been happening particularly often because of Jin Ling, his beloved nephew who had taken an unfortunate page from the book of his father and had started an early ‘nonono, I don’t want to’ phase.

So Wei Ying automatically did what he always did with Jin Ling: he made a stupid face at the toddler, and when the toddler looked at Wei Ying in momentary confusion, Wei Ying grabbed him, lifted him up, and wheeled him around. The kid let out a sound halfway between annoyance and enjoyment. Wei Ying took the chance he got, and folded over with the biggest grin on his face, tilting the child upside down with him. Then he flipped back up, and did it again. By the third time, the child was laughing.

“Again, again!”

Wei Ying did it again, and then tried to set the child down, but it was too late. Quick as anything, two hands grabbed him with surprising strength, and he now had a spider monkey on his hands. The child clung to him, eagerly asking for more parentally inadvisable acrobatics.

Wei Ying looked at the father apologetically, who had witnessed the whole event with the earlier frown still on his face, shrugging a little as he held the little monkey in his arms.

“Sorry for barging in like that,” he said. “It’s just something I picked up from handling my nephew. It works with him every time, so I started doing it automatically. You’re probably busy, I should let you go.”

He tried to hand the boy back to his father, but there was no budging. The child clung to him like a leech, whining at Wei Ying to play with him.

“I am sorry,” the father said, clearly unsure how to handle the situation and his uncooperating child. “He is usually not that difficult. Today is…”

He trailed off.

Wei Ying smiled encouragingly. “Hey, parenting is hard. Tell me, where were you going? I was planning to go to the supermarket near the park, and if you’re heading in the same direction, we can walk together until he’s calmed down a little.”

Wei Ying was almost sure there was something akin to relief in the father’s face.

“I was also heading out for groceries,” the father replied. “If it is not too much to ask…”

“Hey, no biggie,” Wei Ying smiled. “If you carry my groceries, all is well.”

He winked at the boy in his arms.

“Always get others to carry your things.”

“Gege is carrying ME!” the boy exclaimed excitedly, and Wei Ying laughed.

“I see, I see, you are a smart one!”

Wei Ying winked at the father, and after assuring him that he was perfectly fine carrying a toddler around, they walked to the grocery store together.

On the way, Wei Yin learned that the names of father and son were Lan Zhan and Lan Yuan, respectively. They hadn’t been living in the apartment building for very long (Wei Ying had suspected as much), and had recently relocated because Lan Zhan had changed jobs.

Wei Ying felt the urge to ask about the child’s mother, but managed to suppress his curiosity.

It was none of his business, he told himself sternly. He had no place nosing around in a stranger’s private affairs, even when the man in question was particularly handsome, and the toddler particularly cute.

---

Shopping turned out to be way more fun than it usually was. Lan Yuan was still stuck to Wei Ying, unwilling to give up the prime real estate in Wei Ying’s arms, so Wei Ying carried him through the supermarket like a little king, and together, they commanded Lan Zhan what he needed to buy.

Lan Zhan was a strict man that was extremely picky about the foods that he put onto the plate of his child, Wei Ying learned quickly. But he was also a father that very clearly loved by his son, and everything Lan Yuan said was considered seriously, even when it was eventually turned down. Wei Ying almost felt bad to ask Lan Zhan to help him with his groceries, since his eating habits were… nowhere near Lan Zhan’s, that was for sure.

Lan Zhan himself frowned a little when he saw all the stuff that Wei Ying was planning to buy, and though he was evidently trying to restrain himself from commenting, he eventually cracked.

“You do not cook for yourself?” he asked, as Wei Ying snatched another box of frozen food out of the freezer one-handed, balancing Lan Yuan on his hip.

“Not really,” Wei Ying replied lightly. “I’m a horrible cook. My sister banned me from her kitchen.”

“Fresh vegetables are important,” Lan Zhan said, clearly not approving of his dietary choices.

“I know! I have them when I visit my sister. She makes the best food.”

He smiled at Lan Yuan.

“Always eat your veggies, mister, if you want to grow as tall as your dad.”

“I’m gonna be taller!”

It was spoken with so much enthusiasm and conviction that Wei Ying had to laugh.

“You have a lot of work to do and many veggies to eat, then!”

“What about Gege?” Lan Yuan asked. “You also need to eat veggies and grow taller.”

“I’m not going to get any taller now, I’ve reached my maximum height already,” Wei Ying replied. “Not everyone gets to be as tall as your dad.”

That opened an entire new can of worms, because now Lan Yuan wanted to know why Wei Ying wasn’t as tall as his father, and why people were tall or small or fat or thin, and Wei Ying found himself inundated with questions he might have been able to answer more easily if he had been able to pull out his mobile phone and search for some scientifically accurate answers.

But Lan Yuan seemed to enjoy the explanations that Wei Ying could give, so honestly, all was well. He’d apparently completely forgotten the reason why he’d had a meltdown in the entrance hall of their apartment block, and seemed to enjoy being babied by someone other than his father, for once.

“A-Yuan is such a good child,” Wei Ying sighed as they left the supermarket (Lan Zhan carrying Wei Ying’s groceries as promised). “If I ever have children, I also want to have a child like A-Yuan.”

Lan Yuan hugged Wei Ying with a smile, and Wei Ying had to squish the little boy, overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of intense affection. He was just too precious. Dammit, he didn’t even have a partner, he couldn’t go around getting baby fever.

“Wei Ying should adopt me!” Lan Yuan exclaimed with enthusiasm. “Like Baba!”

Now that was… Wei Ying looked at Lan Zhan, confused about that little nugget of information.

Lan Zhan, not looking at him but at Lan Yuan, chastised his son gently.

“A-Yuan, you cannot simply ask unrelated people to adopt you. I am your cousin. We were family before I adopted you. The same cannot be asked for from unrelated people.”

It was a very rational explanation, Wei Ying thought. It also answered a few questions about the apparent non-existence of a mother. But it also seriously underestimated Wei Ying’s particular brand of free-spiritedness combined with a healthy dose of disregard for societal conventions, so Wei Ying lifted Lan Yuan higher and gave him a cheeky grin.

“For what it’s worth, A-Yuan,” he declared, “I would totally adopt you if given the chance. I don’t think your father would give you up for any price, but just know that I would.”

Lan Yuan gave him the biggest smile in reply, and Lan Zhan gave him the most severe frown he had ever seen in his life, but he didn’t care.

Lan Yuan was just too cute, and Wei Ying was entirely honest when he said that he would adopt a child like him in a heartbeat. Of course, a decision like that would be a big responsibility. Taking care of a life.  But he had never been the type to think about such things carefully before jumping right in. He had always wanted a family. And he had experience in handling kids. He could do it, he knew.

Maybe I should really start to consider having a child, he thought to himself, snuggling Lan Yuan a little tighter, resting their heads together, even without a partner in the picture. I have Dajie too, I can rise a child on my own.

(He did not notice Lan Zhan’s considering gaze.)

---

“Are you a homewrecker now?”

“Hello A-Cheng, it’s nice to hear from you, I’m doing very well, thank you,” Wei Ying sang into the receiver. “Why are you calling?”

“You were seen with a father and his child at the supermarket,” came Jiang Cheng’s angry voice from the other side of the connection. “Flirting inappropriately. Really, now? Don’t tell me you’re sleeping with a man that already has a toddler.”

“Ouch, A-Cheng, who do you think I am?” Wei Ying asked theatrically. (If he was honest, the sentiment hurt a little.) “He’s just a neighbour, I was helping out like good neighbours do. He is in fact not married and the child is adopted, so even if I was sleeping with him, which I’m not, there would be nothing inappropriate about it. Also, I have never slept with any man of my acquaintance and I’m not sure why this is coming up now.”

“So that means we don’t have to reserve a seat for him at the next family dinner?”

Wei Ying spluttered. “Wha- what??”

“My sister was really excited at the thought of getting a nephew. I guess it was too much to ask. If you start fucking him, don’t tell me, but I need to know if I have to make more reservations than usual. That’s all. Bye.”

The next moment, Jiang Cheng had hung up, and Wei Ying stared at his phone beeping at him in disbelief.

What the hell?

How had Jiang Cheng even found out he had gone shopping with Lan Zhan and Lan Yuan?

Still shaken and repeating the entire conversation in his head, trying to make sense of it, he heard the doorbell ring. He threw his phone aside and scrambled to get to the door.

As soon as he opened the door, A-Yuan threw himself forward and latched onto Wei Ying’s leg tightly, grinning up at him.

“Gege! Play with me!” he shouted in lieu of a greeting.

Behind him stood Lan Zhan, all prim and proper, with his arms folded behind his back.

“He said he was missing you,” he said with an apologetic bow.

Slowly, Wei Ying bent down and lifted A-Yuan up to settle him on his hip. He stared at Lan Zhan, standing there and staring back, and thought about the strange phone call that he’d just had.

Of course he was happy that A-Yuan wanted to see him again. And of course he was happy that Lan Zhan had come to actively seek him out.

And of course he thought that–

Well.

Quietly, he wondered what it needed to make Lan Zhan accept an invitation for family dinner.

Well, maybe not a family dinner, first thing. Something a little more private was appropriate.

He gave A-Yuan a small kiss to the crown of his head, and saw Lan Zhan following the movement intently.

Hm, he thought giddily. Maybe not quite as much as I thought it might.

He smiled at Lan Zhan.

“Why don’t you come in? I doubt I’m getting this little one off of me very soon.”

[amyscascadingtabs]

darling, you should know i’m a helicopter

a healthy dose of hurt/comfort with added baby snuggles, because i truly felt for amy in this episode. it's been a long time since i just wrote something quick but i hope you enjoy! 🥰

oh and if you want a picture this is the pajamas mac is wearing, okay cool

read on ao3

 Amy doesn’t mean for it to be a breakdown.

 She’s not surprised when Mac’s familiar piercing cries wake her up again a mere hour and a half after she’s fed him and put him to sleep for the night. As miraculous as Charles’ methods seemed, she still believes some babies are just fussy, and her son is one of them. It’s the only logical conclusion she’s come to after six, eight, ten, and twelve weeks all passed without any notable improvement in Mac’s ability to sleep longer stretches, and now he’s five months old and defying every single baby book and website that informs her he should be well settled into a sleeping schedule by now. He’s just fussy, or a high need baby, or whatever other term with needlessly negative connotations there is to make Amy feel like she's doing a bad job. It’s who he is and it’s what she’s used to, so she just scoots to the edge of the bed and picks him up from his travel cot in her still hurting arms before he can wake up the rest of the house.

On another night, she might have tried to walk around with him first, play some white noise or bounce on the yoga ball with him, but she’s tired and dejected and scared to wake up anyone else, so she goes for the easy option. The buttons of her pink striped pajama shirt are easily accessible for this exact purpose, and resting Mac’s head in the crook of her right arm, she gently guides him to her chest and exhales in relief as the crying comes to a stop. At least this, she can do, and the idiots who write advice pages about how you shouldn’t get your baby used to falling asleep at the breast have probably never even met a real baby.

 She leans back against the pillows when she’s sure Mac’s found a good latch and she can hear his content grunts and swallows. His hand has found a steady grip on her newly washed hair, probably getting drool in it again, but she can’t be bothered to try and unclench his little iron fist when he’s finally happy. Watching his perfect chubby cheeks as they hollow and fill, stroking the soft baby curls that are getting lighter and more like Jake’s every day, Amy’s overcome with another wave of that crazy all-consuming love that keeps surprising her, and then she’s the one who can’t stop her tears from falling.

 The only thing she ever wants is to keep him safe. In a world of pandemics and injustice, where the news gives her anxiety attacks more days than not and everything she thought she knew keeps changing, at least she can make sure Mac has his every need attended to. It’s been her life while staying home for the past five months, and she likes to think she’s handled it well all things considered, but after Charles’ nip tips and three-hour imprisonment of her child, Amy can’t help but feel like she’s done it all wrong.

 Her son is at his happiest when she can’t bother him. Once again, her high-strungness and failure to just be chill have proved her unfit for motherhood. She’s too anxious, too stressed, too overprotective, and the baby in her arms looking up at her with the warmest, roundest brown eyes she’s ever known is seriously unlucky and he doesn’t even know it.

 She doesn’t know where the negative thoughts are coming from, but sometimes breastfeeding has this effect on her – another sign, the self-hating voice in her head whispers – and it’s been an exhausting day, so she lets the tears come and hopes Jake is too deeply asleep to notice her mini-breakdown. Why is this so hard for her, and why can’t she just relax? How come Mac seems to be the only child she’s heard of whose sleeping habits at home have gotten worse and not better after his first few weeks at daycare, and how come even the most gentle of sleep training methods break her heart when Mac cries like he’s been abandoned?

 She’s wiping her tears with her free hand before wiping Mac’s cheeks with the muslin blanket when Jake begins to stir next to her, and even that makes her feel guilty, because he’s had a long day, too. He rubs his hand against her upper arm as if sensing that something’s off, yawning as he pushes himself up into a half-sitting position.

“Hey,” he mumbles in his softest sleepy voice, a worried crease appearing on his forehead. “Are you okay, Ames?”

“Yeah,” she tries, but her voice breaks, so she shakes her head. Mac is starting to pull away, so she unlatches him and sighs when she realizes that the shirt she’d packed clean already has milk stains on it. She rests him upright with his head on her shoulder instead, patting him on the back and trying to stop the tears that won't stop coming.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. Is it Charles again? Because I really think he felt bad, but I’m happy to tell him off again if you want me to.”

“It's not Charles.” Amy sighs. “Well, it kind of is, but it's more that... I can't believe the best Mac has ever slept was when I wasn't even there. I try everything and nothing works, and Charles straight-up locks him in a room, and that makes him fall asleep? It feels like more proof I wasn't meant to do this,” she says, and she can see him immediately opening his mouth to protest. “Like even Charles is a more natural mom than I am.”

 Mac makes a hiccuping noise, spitting up a little bit of milk on the muslin blanket Amy put on her shoulder. Jake wipes it away before laying an arm around them, half-hugging them both.

“No offense, but that's the worst lie I’ve heard today, and that's including the stuff Terry said about me.” He strokes Mac’s back through the blue pajamas with little moons and clouds with faces as he begins to whimper again. “You're the best mom to him ever, Ames. You do everything for him. You literally kicked down a door to get to him today. Why do you think someone would be better?”

Amy sighs as she adjusts Mac in her arms, swaying him slightly and being surprised when it actually makes him go quiet. He has his eyes closed, fists up in front of his face, and just the thought that she could be doing something wrong by him makes her heart shatter.

“Because I try too hard,” she whispers, just loud enough for Jake to hear. “When he was locked in by Charles, I couldn't check on him, and it was the best nap he's ever had. All because I worry too much about him. Because I don't know what else to do. I want to keep him safe, but instead I’m somehow not doing enough and doing too much at once.”

She tickles that adorable baby chin with her index finger. Mac grips it, bringing it to his mouth with determination, and it makes both parents laugh. Why he likes this but rejects every single kind of pacifier Buy Buy Baby had to offer, she’ll never understand.

“He knows you love him,” Jake says, as if that was an obvious fact. He likes to claim he can read Mac’s mind about these things, a skill which Amy thinks would have been a lot more useful if it had also worked to figure out what it is their son needs during their worst nights of crying. It's what she needed to hear right now, though, and she leans her head on his shoulder as a silent thank you. “And just because he might be a little introverted sometimes doesn't mean he doesn't love you like crazy, too. I mean, that's what you tell me when I interrupt you when you're reading, right?”

She smiles. “I guess.”

“I know you worry,” he continues. “But just because Mac likes his peace and quiet sometimes doesn’t mean you’re doing a bad job. Maybe we could even let him start sleeping in his nursery at night, you know, just see what happens?”

Just the mention of not having her son within arm’s length at night makes Amy freeze and a million nightmare scenarios flash through her head, and Jake laughs a little as he feels her shoulders tense. “Okay, I can tell that was too big of a step and you’re freaking out, so maybe not. But one day?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” she decides, carefully trying to pull her finger out of her son’s mouth. “Thanks, babe. I just really want to go back to sleep.”

 Mac’s eyes are fluttering, a telltale sign that he’s starting to fight his sleep, stretching his legs and letting out the most adorable of baby-sighs. Jake runs his thumb over his son’s forehead and nose in an attempt to make him relax, and shakes his head as Mac only forces his eyes open again.

“He’s lucky he’s so cute, isn’t he?”

“He’s lucky we love him,” Amy mumbles, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.

“Yeah. I mean, who needs a full night’s sleep anyway, right?” Jake says, and Amy just stares at him with a blank expression.

“I know you’re joking, but I would almost leave him in Charles’ hands for a night again if it meant I got a four-hour stretch, and that’s saying something.”

“Yeah.” Jake grimaces. “I shouldn’t have said that. Now I’m kind of thinking about it too.”

 Thinking that maybe Mac will repeat his magical streak of at least managing to fall asleep on his own, Amy tries to put him down in the cot again, but she’s barely moved before he lets out another unhappy cry. She lifts him upright against her chest again, biting her lip and trying not to feel defeated as she starts the hushing and rocking all over again.

“Hey, I can take him,” Jake says, reaching for him. “You need to sleep so you can stop crazy-spiraling, and I’ve barely held him all day. I’ll walk around with him outside for a while, that might do it.”

 It’s not the typical declarations of love they used to share, but as he puts the muslin blanket on his shoulder before taking Mac and getting out of bed with him, Amy’s confident that she’s never loved her husband more. This, right here, watching him with sleep-tousled curls in just his t-shirt and pajama pants as he adjusts his son and bounces him slightly in his arms while the crying turns into a more gentle fussing, is far hotter than any sex dream about Sanjay Gupta could ever be.

[stxleslyds]

MY TOUGHTS ON THE END OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY.

Dishonour! Dishonour on you, dishonour on your cow! 

Well Jason Nation, it happened again, fanon wins over canon. The amount of bullshit that DC made Zdarsky write in this issue is insane, I have never seen this many fanfiction tropes shoved in a single issue in my life.

This book has been a constant insult to Jason’s character and his Red Hood “persona” since the very first issue but I never thought it would end this badly. It’s incredibly sad.

I will go ahead and say it, this tumblr and this post is not “Batfamily” friendly and it definitely isn’t fanon friendly when it comes to Jason Todd.

Fanon is destroying canon for Jason Todd. I am sorry but that’s how I see it, fanon doesn’t belong in canon, I would never get tired of saying that. But here is the thing, DC latches on to Jason’s fanon version because it fits their narrative of “the Batman is all that is right and all must follow his rules or they shall disappear”.

DC has been dying to make Jason bland and flavourless just like Batman. And now here it finally is.

Let’s be honest the story in this book, the new drug, Cheer, Tyler and his mom, none of that shaped this story, none of those things were the support beams for it. It was all about this never ending “daddy issues” thing that DC pretends is going on between Jason and Bruce.

It was all about those two fighting because they “think differently” so in the end they can push Jason towards the “no killing rule” being also the Red Hood’s modus operandi.

Its utter bullshit.

From the moment that Jason had to put a bat suit on I knew that this was going to be a mess. Luckily like I predicted they didn’t make a big deal out of him wearing it but the “Jason admires Batman” feeling was very present in the issue.

I will not talk about how easy it was for that one thug to land a punch on Jason while he was distracted and I will also not talk about Jason being a dumbass for not securing his dumb mask better when he knew the fight will involve gases. I will not talk about it.

Anyway, let’s talk about the Cheer Gas induced illusion, shall we?

In Jason’s illusion he finds Bruce at the manor looking at the picture of Joker’s death (?) and even though that is strange what Bruce says next is even weirder, he says this: “I did it. He was the last one, but I did it…Joker is dead. I am done.”

Now what the hell was that? This is Jason’s illusion, and by the looks of it in his illusion Bruce has killed every baddie in Gotham and left the Joker for last? Am I reading that right? Is this this a joke?

I understand that this is an illusion so the gas is making “real” things that Jason probably doesn’t know he wants, like wanting Bruce to go on a killing spree, which Jason never wanted because he said it himself, do you guys remember the iconic “I’m not talking about killing Cobblepot and Scarecrow or Clayface. Not Riddler or Dent…I’m talking about HIM. Just him.” Because I remember and it’s so important to Jason’s character, Jason never wanted Bruce to go on a killing spree, he wanted Bruce to kill the clown who had killed him when he was only fifteen. Is that so hard to remember DC?

And then it gets worse! Since WHEN has Jason wanted a perfect family life with the people that he has tried to kill, harm or looked down to? Why is “being with a bunch of people who NEVER get together for anything other than “help” the Bat in a fight against a fucking clown” the idea of happiness to Jason? Has this man ever interacted with any of these people in a positive way without the intrusion of a Batman/Robin event in the way? I will give you the answer, it’s no, the answer is no.

Jason Todd doesn’t care for your “Batfamily” bullshit DC, why would it matter to him? Because he was Robin? He was killed by the Joker when he was Robin, and he was killed because the man in charge of him didn’t pay enough attention! Jason Todd who was written as Dick Grayson’s number one hater for so long (and fandom loves that) is now having an illusion where he enjoys happy times with him along the others? Cass and Stephanie? What? Am I missing something, is this actually AO3, is this fanfiction?

I think Zdarsky got confused, this illusion is what would happen if Jason were dosed with fear gas. That must be it, I solved it everyone! Zdarsky just got confused by his own writing!

I wish.

Let’s go back to the sad reality, Jason has a moment in which he actually puts all his training in motion and shakes of the gas’s grasp on him. He does that but he is grabbed by so many people (who are this people?) and he is unarmed and I believe that’s the only reason why Cheer is still alive after saying that he has someone in Tyler’s mom’s hospital room ready to kill her if he doesn’t join him.

(If this were the real Jason, Cheer would have dropped dead instantly.)

But this is not the real Jason and this is not a *real* comic, it’s fanfiction! So just like that time in Batman #100 when Dick was fighting alone as Nightwing (for the first time since his “family” left him alone after losing his memories) the rest of the “family” shows up to fight Cheer and four random thugs.

Yep, its like the MCU had considered having Cap say “Avengers Assemble” when they were fighting a couple of robots instead of Thanos.

What a mess.

Also having Jason say, in real life (not illusion world), “You know what happiness is? It’s knowing that others have your back.” about this group of people is the perfect recipe for a big OOC moment for absolutely everyone. I cannot believe they have dragged Jason back to this awful concept and that they have sank him so low. It’s quite honestly, disgusting.

But the horrors don’t end there, we have a wonderful moment after Jason gives Batman the antidote, Jason stops Batman from punching the living shit out of Cheer. Because I am not stupid. There is no way in the world that you can convince me that Jason just stopped Batman from killing Cheer.

How incredibly delusional do you have to be to write Batman finally killing someone and that someone being Cheer, a guy that was introduced to comics two months ago?

Yes, later its said that between the gas and the antidote Bruce was a little too crazy and couldn’t help himself BUT I call bullshit once more, because Bruce has gone completely bat-shit-crazy on people before! I remember two recent instances in which that happened. Batman #57 in which Bruce beats the living shit out of KGBeast after he shot Dick. And the other one is Batman beating up Jason more brutally than he ever beat up Joker in RHatO #25.

DC cannot fuck with me. I might has bought this digital comic for 8 dollars but I am not buying that bullshit.

ALSO, there was no need for Zdarsky to do Jason as dirty as he did him when he made him say: “If you are going to come down from mount judgement to MY level for once… he’s not the guy to do it for.”

Zdarsky, why did you write a Red Hood story when you hate Red Hood? Couldn’t you have just told DC that you wanted to write a love letter to Batman? Once again, I am reading a Red Hood story for RED HOOD content not Batman content. Is it really that hard? I bet that if Zdarsky had asked DC to let him write a Batman story they would have said yes, there are like 20 Batman stories, they wouldn’t say no to one more!

Can you tell I am mad? And salty?

This post is so long and so full of anger, I am truly sorry for that but I have to write these feelings down or I would explode. And I am not even done, our suffering, Jason Nation, continues.

But first a little break from the pain, Tyler. Thank you after all the pain this book has given me Tyler is back and just like I predicted his mom is fine and he will stay with her, they both have been given a place and money to rebuild their life (not given by Jason nor Dick but I was close enough). The only happy ending that Tyler could have, he had and I am thankful for that, we even got a little adorable moment between the Red Hood and the Blue Hood.

I am weak for these little glimpses of a good Jason take in the middle of an incredibly awful/OOC story. And just to live in my own fantasy world I will headcanon that Jason promised himself to keep an eye out for Tyler and his mom. He would have wanted to know about their life and that they are still out of trouble.

Jason is a good man, don’t you forget that DC, I don’t care how much you twist it. Jason killing Tyler’s dad wasn’t a horrible act, it was fair game. That man was a horrible person, he drugged his child and made his wife (?) almost overdose. You never gave context as to why that man was working as a drug dealer but you told us those things so Jason should never feel like he did something wrong. As far as we know, Tyler and his mom are better off without him.

Having said that, lets go back to the pain of what is reading a Red Hood story.

“I’m giving up the guns.”

You know what, fine, as long as DC doesn’t pull another “I will stop being Red Hood for you Barbara” I will be fine. He can kill people with other things, he used to have the all-blades, he had normal swords and he had crowbars.

I will sacrifice Jason looking hot as hell when he pulls out his guns just to keep him as the Red Hood, all DC has to do is not give him that stupid… bat… symbol… oh no…. oh my god I can feel it… that thing, that horrible thing is making a comeback! NO!

Jason and Bruce’s talk is basic and it doesn’t do anything for anyone, in the end saying that Jason isn’t changing his ways for Bruce but that he is doing it for himself is more of the same. We know he is doing it for Bruce and we know DC is doing it because they cannot handle good, complex and interesting characters. We know that and sadly we have to live with it.

About Bruce’s illusion, well, Bruce has said that he wanted to kill the clown for a very long time and in the King run it was basically said that if Bruce were to be happy then the idea of Batman would die.

Listen, between me and you, sometimes I think that the Joker isn’t that big of a problem for Gotham as a whole, that clown has beef with the Bat and no one else. If Bruce has killed the Joker Jason would have been happy with Bruce all those years ago but killing the Joker wouldn’t make Gotham a safe place and any of his kids happier.

Bruce needs to care for his children, but he won’t do that, he has Dick for that. Taking care and raising Damian? No, thank you, I will not do that. Giving a shit about my son who lost all his memories and is alone? No thank you, I won’t do that and then I will lie about having watched him over. Tim? Oh, never heard of him, sorry.

The last page of this story is the one of Jason arriving home and finding a new suit that Bruce gave him with the bat symbol on it. That symbol that he had ripped off of Jason’s beat up body back in RHatO #25 (nope, I am not letting that one go).

Oh, and Bruce leaving that suit in Jason’s home gives me the same exact vibes as the time that Bruce was like “Long overdue. This is where you belong. As one of us. One of the family” in Nightwing #74 a second after Dick had regained his memories.

I don’t know why but they make him sound incredibly cold and like these people are just his pawns that he needs to rope back in every time they get away from him. It’s very disturbing.

Anyway, that’s all from me, I obviously LOVED this book, best Jason Todd/Red Hood characterisation ever! 11/10 would recommend to everyone including my enemies!

🙃

[callmeoops]

Light in the Dark - Chapter Thirty

Getting to season 4 now! Also, wrote the next three chapters after this, decided I hated them and am now re-writing them all. :P 

Warnings: None!

.--.

They told Cody and Merle at the same time that Olivia was pregnant. It was only fair that they told biological family before sharing with the whole group.

Both boys reacted just as Olivia suspected: ecstatic. She didn’t expect them competing for title of ‘Best Uncle’ so quickly, though she probably should have. Cody and Merle were both a little competitive.

Apparently winning Best Uncle was based on who could do more things for Olivia since the baby wasn’t actually born yet. Daryl loved this competition.

The rest of the group was quick to join in on making sure Olivia was well rested and not pushing herself too hard. Thankfully they were more lenient than Daryl. Olivia was a do-er. If she had to spend her entire pregnancy cooped up in her cell she was going to go mad.

When her stomach could take it, she trained alongside Hershel and Dr. S. Medical knowledge often made her queasy before the apocalypse though, so her tolerance when pregnant was very limited.

Therefore, she spent most of her time helping Rick and Carl with the garden or up on watch with Maggie. She tried to give Maggie and Glenn their alone time on occasion, so she wasn’t ruining the mood completely. Her and Maggie had talked about a potential little Rhee playmate for ‘Little Knee-Capper’ as Daryl was affectionately naming their child.

“He’s gunna be short. Perfect knee height.” Daryl had told her. He was also very convinced that the baby was going to be a boy.

Daryl was actually pretty optimistic about life since finding out about Olivia being pregnant. He was having a baby with the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his time on this giant rock with. And she wouldn’t have a miserable pregnancy out on the road. How could he not be happy?

The pregnancy progressed smoothly, Olivia speeding through her first trimester with no issues. She had a little baby bump and could feel the baby flutter about. Daryl was supremely jealous but was trying to be patient. At least Olivia could feel their little man. That was better than the alternative.

Daryl wasn’t sure that life could get much better than it was.

Then he lost Zach on another bad run.

The kid was young, younger than Daryl. Daryl should’ve been able to handle the walkers on his own. He should’ve been strong enough to lift the shelving off of Bob on his own. Zach shouldn’t have even been with him in the area. If Daryl had just been faster, stronger, better…Zach would’ve made it home.

Olivia found him up in the guard tower that night, huffing on one of his cigarettes that she hated so much. They’ll give you cancer. They lower your lung capacity. Those things are awful for you. Her mothering filled his head every time he lit one up now. Still, the urge for nicotine when shit was rough overpowered her concerns.

“Having your daily dose of cancer?”

Daryl scoffed. That was a new one for her. He had told her last week that her scoldings were getting too predictable and he wondered if the new sentence was a product of that statement.

She sat down next to him on the ledge of the guard tower and put her head on his shoulder. Just her touch was powerful, sending a sense of warmth through him. He wasn’t alone. With her, he could never feel alone. He wasn’t a monstrous asshole undeserving of care…unless he was just a means to an end. Maybe she wanted a baby and saw him as a simple, primal man to make one with. Maybe she thought him a good-for-nothing father that would be easy to leave.

“Stop.” She spoke to him as if she could read his mind. With how similar they were, sometimes Daryl wondered if she really could. “I know you’re upset, but Daryl…this wasn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself every time something goes wrong. That’s not fair to you.”

“Ain’t fair tha’ a kid is dead cause a me neither.”

“Daryl Dixon.” Olivia was sharp and slightly scolding. “Tell me how you killed him. Did you put a gun to his head? Did you push him into a walker? Did you stab him and leave him for dead? Shoot him and leave him?”

Daryl shook his head. It didn’t have to be like that for it to be his fault.

“You’re not a superhero, Daryl. You can’t know everything, you can’t predict the future, and you can’t save everyone. I wish you could. I wish I could. I wish any of us could do that. But unfortunately, none of us can do that. You tried your best to keep everyone safe, and that’s all we can ask for, okay?”

“Tired a loosin’ people. Can’t protect them, how the hell am I gunna protect this baby?” He muttered, smushing the spent cigarette against the cement of the ledge.

Olivia softened then, sighing. She wrapped her hand around his arm and squeezed him gently, “Hey. You’re going to be a great father. You already love this baby more than anything. I know you, Daryl Dixon. You’re going to protect this baby with your life, just like I am. We’ll keep it safe. Baby isn’t going to be going on runs, right?”

Daryl scoffed. “Nah. Cody wanted ta go on tha’ run today though. Told ‘im no. What if I told ‘im yes?”

“You can’t think like that. What ifs are a vicious spiral, Daryl. It’s so easy to fall down that trap and then before you know it you’re just sad and depressed and hating life. It’s no use dwelling on what could’ve happened. Instead, we have to find a way to deal with what did, find a way to make the future better when we can, and keep going for those still here.”

Logically she was right. He couldn’t change what happened. He couldn’t go back and make different decisions. All he could do now was make the future better. But damn, no matter how hard he tried it was feeling impossible to make the future better. How was he going to keep Olivia safe from the dangers of the world? How was he going to keep his son safe from the dangers of the world?

It hurt to lose Zach. Zach was a good kid; kind, hard-working, determined. He was a survivor, a fighter. The group lost when he died.

But the hardest part for Daryl wasn’t Zach’s death itself. It sucked to lose Zach, of course it did. Daryl hadn’t been best friends with him, but he was a good kid. The worst part of it all was that Zach was another example. Zach was more proof that Daryl couldn’t protect the group. He couldn’t protect people he, and the group, cared about.

How long before another person in the group died due to his lack of abilities?

How long before that person not coming home was Olivia?

How long before his actions killed his baby?

.--.

Olivia was in no mood to get up early and hunt the next morning. She was far too comfortable. Daryl was warm, all wrapped around her like he was every night. Between him and the blankets she was cozy and just wanted to stay hidden from the world for the rest of her life.

Daryl was always much more responsible. He could let her stay in bed all day, but he had to be up and working. She loved his work ethic and his desire to provide for those he cared about. Sometimes though, it was nice to just ten extra minutes of snuggle time. Her affection, or clinginess to get him to stay in bed, was always rewarded with a few extra kisses, but only once back at the farm had she achieved her goal.

“Hey Sis.” Cody had been trained to call out before opening the sheet that blocked everyone’s view into Olivia and Daryl’s cell.

Merle, not so much. “Dun be naked!”

Olivia sighed and released Daryl from her grip. Another unsuccessful attempt.

“Ey, ya makin’ the list for tha’ run today, Peach?” Merle leaned against the far wall, “Need ya ta add me somethin’ if ya are.”

Daryl shook his head and got up, nodding a ‘good morning’ to Cody as he stepped his boots on. Apparently he was throwing her to the wolves.

Olivia stretched her arms, bending them up over her head and behind her back, “Yes, yes I am. I would love nothing more than to make people retrieve supplies for you, Merle. What can I get you?”

“Woah!” Cody tapped Merle on the arm, “She’s so generous this morning! How’d you do that? Hey Sis, can I have some new gloves for clearing the fence? The ones I have are kind of small and they hurt my hands and-“

Merle covered Cody’s mouth, “Not now, Little Giant.” The nickname was an affectionate tribute to Cody’s first week at the prison. One of the Woodbury residents had been nice enough to switch cellblocks so Cody could be in Block C with Olivia. Because Cody was tall and used to sleeping in a single bed, not bunks, he often smacked his head on the metal bars that supported the upper mattress. Merle had found it hilarious that he kept doing it, calling him ‘Little Giant’ because he was young but so tall.

Cody had also developed a small goose-egg on his forehead, causing Merle to furthermore give him the nickname ‘One-Horned Devil.’ Cody was more favorable to that one because it sounded ‘cooler’.

“Peach, I got a very important request.” Merle continued, “Need me some condoms.”

Olivia groaned while Cody snickered.

“And, if they can find fin’ ‘em, peanuts would be nice. Probably at the bar. Hell, could get me some whiskey-“

“Merle! This is the apocalypse. They’re going on a supply scavenge, not a Walmart run.” Olivia reminded him. She’d gotten lucky on her last run before she got pregnant and found a bag of individually wrapped packs of skittles on her last run. Apparently that meant she could make anything happen.

Merle waved her off, “’Ight, ight. In order,” He used his fingers to show her what number was priority, “condoms is top priority. Whiskey second, peanuts las’.”

“No, no!” Cody stepped forward, “Gloves first! Then they can get his stuff.”

“No…” Olivia threw a pillow at them both, “Rest of list first, then they’ll search for your junk.” That was definitely a lie. She’d make sure they brought back Cody gloves. And herself…and Merle…condoms.

Merle opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the sound of gunfire and screaming.

Olivia jumped up, throwing on her shoes and grabbing her pistol. The three rushed down the stairs to the common area of Cellblock C, trying to follow the noise. It seemed to be coming from Cellblock D.

She rushed in and found pure chaos. Walkers had gotten in and were attacking. People were screaming running towards the exit, pushing past the three trying to get in. Olivia pulled out her knife and took a step in before turning around, “Cody! Go back and help the people get to safety! Bring them to the kitchen!”

He opened his mouth to protest but Daryl came up behind him, “Listen ta yer sister! Ya need to stay with the group and protect ‘em case more walkers follow.” Daryl’s words seemed to alleviate any hesitation that Cody had. He started to wave people through the door, yelling for them to head to the kitchen. “Ya go with!” Daryl told her, throwing her a sharp look before saving a small child.

Yeah…that wasn’t going to happen. Olivia stabbed one of the two walkers Merle had in his grip when Daryl stopped looking at her.

“Get in the cells and shut the door!” Olivia shouted to a few people as she knocked a walker to the floor and stabbed it. “You’ll be safe in the cells. Get inside and shut the doors!”

Carol pushed people to follow Olivia’s instructions while she and Merle finished clearing out the first floor. In the mass of people, she’d lost Daryl, but tried not to panic too much. It would take more than a couple walkers to take down him. That’s what she kept telling herself anyway while she tried not to focus on him being on the second floor alone.

The sound of his crossbow firing followed by silence greatly calmed her. As long as she could hear the vibration of the bowstring she knew Daryl was okay.

“’Livia?” His voice echoed throughout the cellblock.

“Yeah?” She looked above her as if she could see through the concrete she was standing under.

“…Jus’ checkin’.”

The situation before them was nothing to smile about, but she couldn’t help it. He was just as worried about her as she was him.

Hershel and Dr. S came in to assess the damage while Olivia helped Merle drag the bodies out of the block.

Things had been going well, but the shadow of death was always looming over them. They’d lost people on runs before. New people that they’d let go for experience. New people like Zach. But they hadn’t had a walker outbreak in a while. Now that she didn’t see them every day when she went on runs, now that she was hidden away in the prison she could almost forget they existed. This was just a painful reminder.

[blu-archer]

Sharing is Caring?

Just some more AU sickness because why not?

snz based

Sickie: Tae - mild Jimin

Caretaker: Jimin [kind of?]

m/m [squinting at Yoonmin] and mentions of what I’m poorly portraying as ace. I’ve never tried to write about it before so forgive any misrepresentation please..

anyway...

Apart of this little universe; Flower shop and Bakery au 

This piece mostly felt like me rambling, but it was kind of fun so I’m posting it.. sorry for any errors

-

-

Taehyung sniffled as discretely as possible as he wondered through the isles of the large supermarket, doing his best to avoid people even though he had made sure to grab a face mask before leaving the apartment to avoid spreading his germs. Technically they could be considered Jimin’s germs… but he wasn’t one to blame his platonic soulmate.

After all, they lived together. This outcome was inevitable.

 So he hovered awkwardly through the store trying to move as quickly as possible by grabbing immediate necessities rather than the usual browsing of the shelves. And after the desperate sneezes that had surprised him by the canned foods and had kicked his headache into 5th gear, he wanted nothing more than to already be at home and back in bed.  

The photographer paused a bit away from the freezer holding the ready-made meals – something that had become a must-have for the pair if they wanted to survive living together – waiting for the few people there to finish before he made his own snatch. He blinked lazily at the rows of boxes that he could just barely make out. He would have to grab a few, they hadn’t done ‘grocery’ shopping for the month and it had come back to bite them. The few supplies he’d gotten days before had dwindled to nothing in a blink of an eye. He’d woken up that morning looking for food so he could take his next dose of medication and had been met with a small portion of days old take out from the noodle place down the street and what was left of the soup Jimin’s boss had dropped off for him after he’d called in sick.

And Tae was getting really tired of soup, despite only being on his second day of feeling like warm death.

So he had taken the courageous, probably mildly stupid, step to go shopping. They needed more tissues anyway, and he didn’t really know anyone in the area that well yet despite having moved a few months ago so it’s not like he could make a plea for help.

Jimin had been thoroughly knocked out in his bed with a mound of extra blankets that hadn’t moved from their place since Yoongi had put them there after bringing the smaller man home from work the day before. So Taehyung had just scribbled a brief note and pinned it onto his door so that Jimin would know where he was if the slim chance of the elder waking up did actually happen.

A gap formed as a couple broke away from the freezer and Tae swiftly slipped in front of it, muffling a cough into his arm before he made a move to slide open the glass top. Taehyung was jolted from his actions as something – a body, definitely a small body – crashed into his legs, immediately reaching out with one hand to steady the child that wobbled upon impact even though his own balance wavered drastically. Thank god for fast reflexes, if he hadn’t dropped his basket and rested his hand on the freezer then he probably would’ve fallen straight on his ass. That would have been almost as embarrassing as the canned food isle incident just minutes before. This day just wasn’t getting better.

He had just barely looked down at the small boy who had almost caused his next disaster when his foggy attention was dragged away to the next rapidly approaching figure.

 “Sehjoon!” An exasperated voice snapped before the small boy was pulled from Tae’s weak grasp. “I’m so sorry, he’s wild. Did he-“The man’s eye widened a bit and then he smiled, losing some of the tension in his body. “Its Taehyung, right? Jimin’s new roommate?”

 Tae blinked, nodding slowly although he couldn’t really be considered ‘new’ since a few months had already passed, and it wasn’t the first time that he’d shared a space with Jimin. The man looked familiar, and he clearly knew who he was, which meant he was probably one of Jimin’s friends from work. Taehyung tried not to feel too bad about not remembering whose name went with which face, he was often busy with his own work when Jimin would tell him about what happened during his working hours, so he couldn’t be expected to remember too many details. It was a similar situation when he tried to explain to Jimin the different editing terms while trying to perfect whatever photos he had done. He couldn’t count the numbers of times he’d just watched his best friends eyes glaze over with some familiar vague nodding.

 “I’m Hoseok, we met a while back when you first moved here.”

The man seemed to ooze happiness as he picked the boy up to rest him on his hip. Taehyung shuffled on his feet. He was a little unsure of what to say next. Usually he didn’t struggle with making conversation, but his head felt like it was filled with cotton, he couldn’t be faulted for this flaw of character right now.

 “Sorry,” Hoseok chuckled, rubbing at his neck with his free hand. “Jimin speaks about you all the time and even Jungkook and Jin mention you every once it in a while, it kind of feels like I know you.”

 “Uh…oh. Yeah. Jimin speaks about you a lot too.” Tae replied, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. His voice coming out deeper and with the beginnings of the congestion he’d hoped wouldn’t come so soon in the day. He cleared his throat in hopes that it would help. “The florist, right? With Yoongi?”

 It clearly didn’t help.

Hoseok’s smile faltered, turning more sympathetic. As if he had quickly pieced the obvious together.

 “Yeah, that’s me.” He shifted the boy on his hip when small hands grappled to be let down. Hoseok dropped his smile for a moment to give a stern look of disapproval that seemed to work like a spell over the boy as he went silent and placid in the mans hold. “I’m sorry about Sehjoon here. My sister asked me to look after him for the day and I think she both underestimates my babysitting capabilities and overestimates her sons behaviour. I was actually sent out of work for a bit because Yoongi needed a break from this level of chaos… Hey, he didn’t hurt you or anything right?”

 “Oh, no. No.” Tae gave a croaky laugh that irritated his throat. It already felt rough from the amount of coughing he’d done during the night and it appeared that he was nowhere close to being done with that. Turning away, he coughed deeply into his arm, twisting away despite wearing a mask, and winced at the spark of pain that had shot into him. God, he was so over this cold. “Sorry. He barrelled into me, but he would probably be at more risk of hurting himself than me. Has a hard head though. Definitely able to knock some people out with that.”

 That brought a bubble of sudden laughter from the other man that left Tae slightly bemused and yet, it was an odd feeling watching Hoseok laugh. A warmth of sorts spread over Taehyung when the man tossed his head back and seemed to glow as his shoulders shook. It was more contagious than Jimin’s illness and Taehyung couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the man as he began to tease his nephew shamelessly about being a new weapon of destruction. The boy simply whined and curled his head into Hoseok’s neck, apparently not seeing the same humour as his uncle.

  “I should get him a leash to be honest.” Hoseok joked, but Tae had a feeling the glint in the mans eyes meant he was deeply considering it.

 Taehyung didn’t really know how to reply so he just nodded slowly and turned his attention back to the freezer, recollecting his basket before just grabbing a few different meals at random and tossing them in with the juice and tissues he’d already gotten. Whatever it was he and Jimin would eat it whether they liked it or not. He had been out longer than he wanted to be by now and he wasn’t wasting more time on things that they probably wouldn’t taste much of anyway considering how this cold was progressing.

 “Not much of a cook?”

 Tae glanced to Hoseok who seemed to be shifting his weight as he looked towards the meals casually.

Sniffing lightly, Taehyung tried to suppress the desire to rub at his nose through the mask. He shrugged, his hand moving up to brush some hair from his eyes. “Never really learned. Jimin can’t either, but this is better than living off of take out.”

 “I can see Jin rolling in his figurative grave.” Hoseok chuckled. “If you want I can mention to Jungkook how I ran into you,  despite you clearly not feeling well. I can guarantee that you and Jimin will get visited by Yoongi and Jin with at least a months-worth of premade meals to be frozen because they heard from Jungkook that you were both malnourished and possibly dying.”

 He blushed at the call out on being sick, but to be fair, he hadn’t thought he’d run into anyone that would actually talk to him or that this store would be so busy during work hours. He also didn’t doubt Jungkook’s ability to exaggerate, Jimin had told him about some previous examples that had at the time probably caused Jin a lot of stress. It mostly seemed innocent but very few could look into Jungkook’s eyes and not believe everything he tells them. Tae had only just started speaking to him more and he already knew that.

“Please don’t. I can’t even bear to look at soup after these past few days and I have a feeling that would be a strong contender of what one would give a sick person.” Against his original will, he rubbed a finger to his nose as it twitched with an itchy irritation. “I need to get home actually; we had no food left so I should try to get back before Jimin wakes up. And I am about ready to sleep for the next week.”

 “Oh wow. So you really are in need of pre-made meals filled with some love and care.” Hoseok’s voice dipped into one similar to how he had teased his nephew. “Well, I won’t keep you then. You should get home and rest, but if you want to take me up on sending the s.o.s. message for food delivery, Jimin has my number.”

 Taehyung thanked the elder man shakily, and even managed to get a small wave bye from the boy, barely having time to hear the small apology for bumping into him before he abruptly turned away and buried his face into his elbow.

 H’EESH..hH’HEGXSHhh..

 There was a startled ‘oh’ and then deep chuckles. Taehyung winced as he gave a liquid sniff with a low groan, feeling even more congested than before.

 “ ‘cuse ‘be.”

 “Bless you,” Hoseok laughed with a hand instinctively holding his nephew closer. He dipped his head in a small bow. “Sorry, it’s not funny. That sounded awful, but I got a fright and now I feel dumb for jumping.”

 If he had blushed before, then this was him setting himself alight. That had never happened before, he’d never scared someone with his sneeze. Jimin was never going to let him live that down.

 “I’ll leave you be now,” the man grinned. “Go home and get some rest. But when you feel better we should hang out some time. Jimin speaks about you all the time and I just think it would be great to see more of you… like with everyone. Welcome you to the city properly.”

 “I…yeah. Okay.” Taehyung brushed his hands through his hair and took a starting step back, trying to hold back any more sniffling. “I’ll see you around then.”

 “Feel better soon, Taehyung, and get home safely.”

 ******************* 

HEESHHU..H’HIESHH…snfff.. … Heh..h..hhh..HHeGXTCHh…hnnxgGTSCHew!... nghHEHHSHH!!!

 Taehyung panted out hot hitchy breaths as the tissue box was set in front of him as an offering. He laid a hand on the box to take it, his other hand hovered desperately over his face as he geared up for the next sneeze. His teary eyes had barely blinked open before they were forced shut once more, his throat and head pulsed with each sneeze that ripped out of him.

 “Ble-e’hh-hh-ss yo-uishhhiew.. H’ingxtshh… hih’itishhew!”

 Taehyung grabbed a few tissues and let Jimin keep the box as the elder coughed and crumpled into the seat beside him, before following Tae’s example of blowing his nose tiredly.  

 After shopping, Taehyung had managed a slow drive back to the apartment with multiple stops to tear open one of the tissue boxes he’d bought. It hadn’t helped much, and he had felt progressively worse as the minutes ticked by until he’d made it into the house, where he had promptly collapsed onto the couch with his tissues – only having to get up again to dump the food he’d bought in the fridge and freezer before sluggishly dragging himself to the couch once more..

When he’d been coaxed awake by Jimin gently shaking his shoulder, he had been met with a dim early afternoon sun and a plate a steamy food that had definitely been nuked in the microwave for longer than necessary. And from there they hadn’t really moved much, other than Jimin having forced some medicine into them and making tea before joining Tae on the couch.

There was some drama playing softly on their tv, but neither of them really had the energy to focus on it properly and Tae could barely hear the dialogue anyway once the congestion in his sinuses began to interfere with his ears. Jimin had dragged in a blanket from his room and draped it over both of them as Tae added to the pile of used tissues that had begun to form on the floor in front of them. Nothing seemed to stop the constant tickle that plagued him, nor his noses inability to do what he wanted. Tae was considering just stuffing his nose with tissues at this point. Since the trip to the supermarket his nose had turned into a mess that was seemingly draining the life out of him. Jimin had assured him that despite what he thought, it would get better, but he was sure that his friend was just trying to be his usual hopeful self. Always ready to reassure and look out for him.

At least they were suffering together. That was an upside. Jimin claimed to be feeling a lot better than the day before and it seemed to be mostly true, he was definitely being more active than Tae wanted to be. Although that could also have just a factor of the smaller man sleeping like the dead for almost 20 hours and Taehyung thinking it was wise to leave the apartment earlier. He was just deeply glad that he wasn’t alone again.

 Tae hated being alone. Even when he was well, he’d tried living by himself before and it had eaten at him mentally. It’s a big reason why he had convinced Jimin to find a new apartment that they could share when he switched towns, instead of just finding a cheap single flat somewhere. Thankfully his Soulmate had been searching for something already, so he didn’t feel like too much of an inconvenience. Jimin had always teased him relentlessly for needing people but never wanting relationships, always just content with a friend to cuddle up to or hang out with. Yet watching Jimin and others grow into bonds and commitments always made him doubt. Jimin meant well with his chirps and edgy teasing, but it always made Taehyung worry about his future.

What would he do when Jimin finally moved on in life? It’s not like anyone would want to invest in a person that would never give themselves entirely to a partner... He would never fall into the trap of letting someone take what he didn’t want to give again, yet that was all everyone seemed to want from him. … Maybe he’d start up a cuddle site, or a hug program, he’ll think of a way to get the skin ship he needed without being a bother or a hazard to himself.

 “You’re thinking too loud again…” Jimin whined hoarsely and sunk into Tae’s side, rubbing his cheek into the other shoulder as he curled into him. “Your brainwaves are hurting mine.”

 “You’d need a brain to have brainwaves, you’ll be fine.” Tae mumbled as he ran a tissue under his nose with a sniff and yelped out a weary laugh when Jimin pinched at his ribs.  

 “Asshole.” The elder snipped, but the smile in his voice was evident.

  It took no prompt for Jimin to snuggle even deeper into Taehyung’s embrace, relishing in the warmth despite the dampness that had begun to seep through Tae’s shirt. It would probably be wise for them both to get in the shower – at the very least to rinse off their sweat and germs – but they were far too comfortable to move. Tae felt as if his body had become moulded into the seat and the heat that was created between himself, Jimin and their blanket; paired with the medication he’d taken, only made him dozier. Even as his mind raced through various what-ifs of the future, his eyes gradually drifted shut up before jerking open with any sound or movement. Soft hands brushed soothingly up his side, edging him closer to sleep with low humming, and just as his eyes closed again there was a sharp knock at the door that caused both of them to groan.

 “If we ignore it, they might think we’re not here.” Jimin whispered.

 Ah…H’ERSHH! ..

 “Never-“

 HE’ETCHSHH!!

 “… Never mind. Thank you Taetae.”

.

.

“Sorry..”

Another softer, more hesitant knock sounded through the apartment as Jimin pushed himself to his feet and handed control of the tissue box to Tae solemnly. He accepted it more desperately than he would have liked, but Jimin wasn’t going to judge him considering he’d been in the same situation just the day before.

 With a reluctant sigh, Jimin tried not to shiver against the loss of heat. “I’ll go see who it is then.”

  The photographer pushed himself up to sit cross legged instead off slouched down in the seat while Jimin left the room, so he could blow his nose as productively as he possible. Although his nose ached after so much blowing and he had immediately tumbled into a bout of coughing that had left him gasping and spitting into a tissue with a grimace, so he couldn’t really call it all that productive when it ultimately made him feel worse. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a yawn before considering just going to sleep anyway. From the front door he could vaguely make out Jimin’s voice – deeper and scratchier than usual – as he spoke with familiarity.

 Hopefully it wasn’t their neighbour. She had been hounding them about tidying up their balcony that, quite frankly, wasn’t that bad. Sure, it had way too many dead and dying plants and the chair out there had definitely seen better days, but if she didn’t like seeing it, she didn’t have to go out of her way to look. It wasn’t like they shared it.  

He leaned his head back to rest on the back of the couch and shut his eyes once more, trying to force himself to sink into sleep, yet it was now low grumbling and airy giggles kept him from rest. Irritated, he shifted so that he lay curled up on his side, tossing his heavy limbs around until he’d managed to get the soft, fluffy blanket over his body completely and tucked under his chin. Now if Jimin could get back so that he could at least have someone to cling onto, then he’d be ecstatic.

 Muffled coughing grew closer until Taehyung heard Jimin call out to him just loud enough to not disturb his penetrating, consistent headache.

 “Look,” Jimin practically collapsed on top of the photographer holding a small bouquet. He slid off quickly when the force of the landing set off Taehyung’s own thicker and hoarser coughs. “Sorry but look what Yoongi brought.”

 Ah… so there was a definite hold on the ‘cuddle’ part planned in their day. Once he didn’t think his throat was going to rip to pieces, Taehyung blinked heavily at the various bright flowers that had probably been put together with more thought and precision than he could possibly imagine in that moment. Clearly Yoongi had decided to call in a delivery, he wasn’t really surprised. Jimin’s eyes shone as if he truly hadn’t expected the florist to stop by, and Taehyung didn’t think the elder really cared what he thought about it, he had merely fallen into an instinctive habit. Although, Tae would have preferred not to be assaulted with things that would possibly trigger his sinuses.

He scrunched his nose and pushed away the hand that held the glorified weapons. There were quiet steps and a gentle murmur from behind them that he would have brushed off as him hearing things, if only Jimin didn’t glance up with such a warm, wide smile.

“Beau’iful Chim.” Tae sniffed and rolled so that the blankets rolled higher to hide his face.

 His cheeks were heated and Jimin turned his smile to him knowingly – albeit apologetic for letting Yoongi inside when Tae clearly just wanted Soulmate time. Jimin pressed a quick kiss to the small visible section of Tae’s damp forehead before getting to his feet with a stifled cough.

 “I’ll put these in water... You really didn’t have to come and check on me, you know.” Jimin said softly as he walked towards their kitchen. “Probably safer to just call.”

 “I’m not scared of getting sick, Jimin.” A low voice that could only be Yoongi, reassured as he followed the other. – So more than a delivery then.-  “I just wanted to make sure you were okay after yesterday. Hobi said he ran into Taehyung earlier… Although from the looks of things he should have probably stayed home, poor guy sounds worse than you did – than you do.”    

 Jimin hummed, and Taehyung shifted to cover his head entirely beneath the blanket, trying not to listen to the couples conversation. Maybe he should just move somewhere else and let them have some space without having to hide in the kitchen. Of course Yoongi would have to accept the fact that he was entering an area of disease, but he seemed more than willing considering he was already in their home.

Tae gave a sigh and then a deep sniffle. He plucked a fresh tissue to wipe at the tender skin under his nose. It took a moment to work up the energy but eventually he was able to twist so that he practically rolled off of the couch. His knees and hand connecting a lot harder than he’d predicted to the floor, while trying to keep the blanket as steady as possible on his hunched frame. With sluggish motions, he tried to sweep most of the used tissues up with his hands and dumped them into the wastepaper bin kicked under the table, then after achingly persistent hitch started up that had left him feeling frustrated at the lack of relief – he considered the area clean enough before standing unsteadily. Making sure the blanket was wrapped tightly over his shoulders, he grabbed the tissue box to take with him – Jimin could find something else, he felt he needed them more. Then he had almost tripped on the way to his room and had muttered half-hearted curses at the blanket for betraying him and getting caught up in his steps, until finally he was able to collapse onto his bed.

Sure it was cold and probably smelt of sweat but it was at least more comfortable than where he had been lying and it had pillows that he could hug in replacement of Jimin. He buried his face into his arm almost immediately, sneezing harshly twice before he was able to bring a tissue to his nose and smother three more, breaking off into an exhausted, thick cough that left him feeling miserable and wanting nothing more to recollect the bottle of medicine he’d taken earlier and take the rest of it.

God, he really was so over this stupid cold.

[vminity21]

Recompense | myg

Pairing: student!yoongi x student!reader, college!au f2l

Word Count: 2,925

Genre: angst, fluff

Warning(s): language, mention of death of a relative; Rated: pg 13

Summary: Underneath the tough exterior is truly grief, yet Yoongi is unable to execute it well until he discovers that you relate to him more than he realized. Sometimes learning that you are not alone is the best form of healing.

Credits to: @suhdays​ for making such a beautiful cover!! And thank you @cyberkryptonitecupcake​ for making the request! I really hope you like it!

Rain clouds encompass campus as easily as entering the end of a thread into a needle. At least, that’s the analogy you groggily come up with and you are sticking with it. Compiling your textbooks into your backpack, you trace your steps in finding your dorm key and with a brief look in the mirror, you inhale and exhale slowly. You can do this today. You are smart. You have great hair. You will not annoy Yoongi for the millionth time in two days.  It has taken a lot over the years to give yourself positive affirmations to start your day as your mother always taught you to do so, but when she had passed, you went a very long time without encouraging yourself at all.

But that’s the secret you keep. With no social media for anyone to discreetly look at of you, you bury the heartbreak as best as you can because overall you know that your mother is proud of you. She would want you to stay positive; she would want you to smile not only for you but for the sake of others. Stepping onto the sidewalk, you put in your airpods with an upbeat tune as you saunter to class. You were partnered for a project with Min Yoongi, and one thing you have learned is that he is not your biggest fan for reasons you are uncertain. Maybe it has to do with how much you antagonize him with your charms? Maybe it has to do with the irresistible way you cut letters out of construction paper. Who even knows? But…. He does have a cute bu-

The brief collide of a large shoulder astonishes you as you jolt to remove an airpod, “Hobi, are you insane?” You stifle a large smile as he scrunches his nose at you.

“Saw the perfect opportunity and I took it.”

“Well, good for you. How are you and Monnie holding up? This project is intense.”

“Firstly, I better confess before she calls me out. She’s done all the work. Secondly, is it the project? Or the partner?”

Flashing your best friend with a warning look, you keep the subject away from Yoongi. “Of course, your girlfriend has done all the work! What is the point of a boyfriend if he is completely useless!”

“Excuse me, Heathen. I’ve come up with some of the facts that we have to present so I have put in a smidge of my time.” He shakes his head, ruffling his strands from his laughing eyes.

“You better be glad she loves you. I’d washi tape your eyes closed. And then superglue wiggle eyes in your hair.”

“I’d also give him a mullet and replace his eyebrows with pipe cleaners. Hello guys,” Monnie joins from the library as all of you continue to class.

“And what makes you think I wouldn’t fight back?” Hoseok muses while laying a steady hand upon his beloved tendrils in preparation to protect.

“I have my ways, peasant.”

Feigning to be nervous, Hoseok’s gaze flickers between you and Monnie. “I don’t know what kind of vile thoughts are festering within your skulls, but I do not want any part of it. But, to return your question because I have human decency unlike you stale croutons, how is the project going with Yoongry?”

“Hobi, how many times do I have to tell you that he’s not angry, he’s just… I don’t know difficult.”

“Seems angry to me, ow!” Hoseok rubs his side from where Monnie jabbed him with her elbow upon entering the classroom.

“Sh! He’s right over there,” Monnie whispers in warning. Yoongi is leaned in his chair with arms crossed, his intimidating gaze observes the room while his tousled, black hair reveals his forehead. As much as you hate to admit this, you are very attracted to him- especially when his eyes move to find you. Shit! Smiling in his direction as happily as you can muster, he briefly rolls his eyes in response before returning his gaze to the front where you happen to make a quick trip to the professor.

“Um, Professor Namjoon, how are you doing?”

“Ah! My straight A student, I am wonderful, how are you?”

“I am doing great, Professor, just wanted to let you know that I read over the articles you suggested for the project! Super helpful!” You gleam.

Yoongi eyes you as you continue your conversation with Professor Namjoon. One thing he has picked up on is how much you like to people please which is something he has never fully understood about the human population in general. Nobody should have to go out of their way just to make someone happy if they do not want to, but then again, it’s hard for him to express his emotions especially after his mother passed away before the semester even started.

“Good morning!” Your chirpy voice resonates with the intention of making Yoongi smile, but instead he murmurs his greetings in response.

“You studied over Furosemide last night, haven’t you? That’s one of the major heart medications used in the veterinary field.”

“I sure did. You studied up on pimobendan as well, correct?” The project is based on medications for congestive heart failure and the importance of why they are needed along with the explanation of what happens within the heart when it is functioning abnormally. ‘Lucky, I got stuck doing a project on the prostate,’ Hoseok’s whine echoes in the forefront of your brain.

After a few seconds, you can’t seem to refrain from taking Yoongi’s presence in. He really grew up to be so handsome. The thin curve of his chin, his button nose, his soft, umber eyes and the way he gels his hair in place, even the scent of him is alluring.

“Staring at me isn’t going to get the job done,” he mumbles, slipping the rolled poster behind him to unravel upon the desk.

“Looking at you?” You jump, frantically moving to gather the materials needed to decorate the project. “I’d rather look at a pin cushion.”

“It probably would appreciate it if you didn’t stare at it either.”

Squinting your eyes at him, your mouth open and shuts multiple times without a subtle comeback. “What is with you? You know I’m not going to cower until you smile, right?”

Shoulders tensing, Yoongi peers at you, “Can you take anything seriously for at least one second?”

“If taking this project would help boost my immune system, sure, why not.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you need a dose of sunshine. Hoseok has a contagious smile, why don’t I introduce?”

You are unaware of the grip you have on the chair beside you, trying everything you can to maintain your happy façade no matter how much you are tempted to let it crumble. How was your mom so good at handling people like this? There has to be something deeper tormenting him to resonate so much hatred to whatever it is he is clinging to.

“I would prefer to be introduced to a tree. Now if you’ll so kindly hand me the stencil sheet, I will begin formulating words to define the jobs of the atriums versus the ventricles before tracing the letters.”

“I’ll leave you to it then. In the meantime, I’m going to grab a coffee, I’ll be right back.” Shuffling to retrieve your wallet, you are sure Professor Namjoon wouldn’t notice the few minutes that you would be gone and for what it’s worth, you need a moment to relax. What happened to make him so cold? Unbeknownst to you, a picture of your mother swoops to the ground to land at the tip of Yoongi’s shoe. Eyebrows scrunching, he bends to pick up the picture to see a woman whose smile matches yours, but not only that, there is a familiarity about her as if he has seen her before.

“Miss Jeon?” Memories swarm his mind of his childhood where an exuberant joy was in the air mingled with the smell of chocolate chip cookies. A little girl chased him around the backyard while giggles reverberated throughout the atmosphere. Miss Jeon would call out for you guys when the treats were ready and would always make sure Yoongi had everything he needed when he would come to visit. But that little girl who was his best friend as a child happened to be none other than you. How had he not recognized you? Another memory resurfaces, one of his own mother sharing laughter with yours. They had been friends, too.

From what is written on the back of the portrait, it is revealed that your mother is no longer on earth right beside you the same as his mother left this world so soon. Tears gather in his eyes as the shame overwhelms his chest in all entirety. Who was he to judge you based on your happiness? If you could lose someone who obviously meant the world to you and can still maintain your kindness, then why can’t he?

Bustling of the other students is loud enough to not focus in on the man whose world has seemed to halt. Swallowing roughly, he tries steadying the picture with his quivering hands as a tear drips off his cheek. His mother would be disappointed in how he coped with his anger and today was the day he would need to make a change. And he will. When you return, the Styrofoam cup warm in your palm, you set it onto the table, “Alright, now that I’ve retreated for a few minutes, I would hope your top tier attitude has-”

Quieting immediately, you take in a trail of tears resting on Yoongi’s face. Eyebrows furrowing, you are so surprised that words do not exist in this very moment. Why is he crying? Did you say something wrong?

“I’m sorry,” he whispers through the trembling of his chin, “I’m so sorry.”

“Yoongi, what’s?” Eyes trailing to his hands, you gasp at the realization that he is holding the picture of your mother that you carry with you everywhere you go. Before you can even verbalize anything, Yoongi hands you the picture without a word and exits the classroom while you stand there in silence.

-

Days pass and you haven’t seen nor have heard from Yoongi. Running your hands over your face, you’re leaned over your desk with nothing but the days events cycling heavily on your brain. Any form of homework has not been touched, and Professor Namjoon seemed to fully understand the circumstances of why you needed to leave class early. Collecting the materials as well as the posterboard, Hoseok and Monnie had helped you carry everything back to your dorm and offered to stay with you for the evening, but you declined. LenLen, your roommate happens to be with her boyfriend, Jimin which saves time for you to cry.

You miss your mother more than anything in this world, and she is the first person you would have called if she had been alive. How did you miss the picture falling out of your backpack when you grabbed your wallet? Deep down you always knew who Min Yoongi was, he was your ‘soulmate’ when the pair of you were children. Your mothers would always joke about a future of grandchildren with the absolute assurance that you and Yoongi were destined to be husband and wife. Unfortunately, you and your mother had to relocate for her job opportunity and you never saw Yoongi again until you recognized him the beginning of this semester.

It is funny how life works sometimes, as if an invisible string tied him to you in all aspects of life. Alas, he did not remember you, hence why you had been so lenient with his annoyance directed at you. You wanted to believe that he would wake up, and because he was so stand offish, you couldn’t find the bravery to confront him nor confess that he was your friend at one point in life. Instead, you bottled it up. When you called your brother to give an update a few days ago, he relayed the news regarding Yoongi’s mother which all made sense as to why Yoongi was so distant; your heart shattered for him as tears pooled. How could you possibly ever bring up a subject as devastating as that? But you wanted Yoongi to know that he is not alone. You are mourning as he is. If only he would realize who you are-

A soft knock on the door jolts you from your palms while sparks dance along your vision before clearing up. Confused due to not expecting anyone, you carefully step to the door, cracking it open to realize that Yoongi of all humans is standing with a bouquet of roses in his grip. “Yoongi?” You take in a sharp breath, “How did you find my dorm? I don’t remember-”

“I met Hoseok,” he says softly, “You were right, his smile is… definitely contagious but rather mischievous for lack of a better term. He told me where to go.”

Giggling, not only at his accurate description of Jung Hoseok, but also out of uncertainty because you have no idea how to truly react. Is it odd that you are very happy that Yoongi is here? Gaze flitting to the roses, you are in awe of how beautiful they are against the dark shade of his trench coat. “They’re beautiful.” You say, “How did you know I loved roses?”

A gentle smirk graces his lips, the closest to a smile you have ever seen, and you have never felt your heart pitter patter the way it just did. “I remember always seeing them in a vase when my mother and I would visit.” His fingers stir along the plastic cover around the stems, “Really, I am so sorry. You did not deserve to be treated that way. I was wrong to take my frustrations out on you. Not that this is an excuse but, my mother-”

Reaching your fingers to lightly press to the back of his hand, he stops as his eyes widen. “Why don’t you come in?” You whisper, and straight way he enters, following you to a sofa set off to the side. “My brother told me about your mother. Yoongi, I am so sorry about that. She was the sweetest woman. My mom always missed her after we moved.”

“And mine always missed your mother,” you take the roses and swiftly prepare a vase of water to settle them in, decorating the kitchen counter with the beauty of the red petals. “I think… I think I just blocked out that time in my life because I hated that you weren’t there with me anymore.”

Your heart skips a beat. Did Yoongi eventually remember everything after all? “I was heartbroken, too.” Turning to lean your back against the counter, you cross your arms to try to bring some comfort to the anxious feeling beneath your chest. The pain of the losses will never go away, but the man across the room will end up being the bloom of happiness that you will need, and you will be his solace- the one person who will remind him that he is not alone. He has you. “I don’t want to hear another apology, okay?”

His mouth falls open, “But-”

“Nay, you shan’t.”

“Really though, how will I ever repay you for my actions? I should have never forgotten about you.”

Arms still crossed, you gradually near him as he stands to his feet, your eyes connect with his, “All I want you to know is that you are not alone. Sure, you may not have known who I was majority of the semester, but at least you know now.” When his gaze, filled with guilt, strays, you move your head to regain his focus. “Yoongi, really, you remember me now. So, lets try to live life the way our mothers would want us to.” Your voice breaks, knowing how proud they must be of the pair of you reconciling and reuniting after years of being apart. “Besides, we have a lot to learn, and a project to finish, so whaddya say?”

For the first time in years, you get to see it, the gummy smile glowing from his face as he shakes his head at you. “Must I be reminded of that wretched thing? I’d prefer to shave my eyebrows.”

“You have a sense of humor?” You tease lightheartedly as you nudge his shoulder with your knuckles. “I knew you had it in you!” Chuckling, he reaches for your frame to pull into a tight embrace, you immediately relax into his mold while you breathe in the crisp scent of his cologne. “Goodness, you smell like a dream. If our moms were correct about our future, I am not going to be disappointed!” For once, the pair of you feel complete even if sorrow will awake from time to time- as Yoongi squeezes you tighter, you bury into the crook of his neck, pressing a small kiss to his warm skin. “We better make an A+.”

Pulling away slightly, to rest his forehead upon yours, he is still smiling, “Following up with some extra credit.”

“Agreed,” you beam, letting his warmth encompass you to its full extent, when you almost lose balance due to him shifting his feet, he catches you.

“I’m so-”

“Gah!” Your fingers brush his lips, “What did I tell you?”

“No more apologies.”

“No more apologies.”

[random-mha-thoughts]

Baby (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Anon requested: “Hiii!! I jus wanna say ur writing is one of the best I've read so far (and I've read a lot). It's been a while since I've read a oneshot that made me feel tingles (u know why I mean right, it's hard to explain 😅) anyway jus wanna say I love ur writing!! Also, if u don't mind I'd like to request a fluff with bakugou where he gets his wisdom teeth removed and he just becomes the softest thing everrrrr! :) if ur not taking requests rn I dont mind if u skip this one. Adios ;)"

Thanks for the kind words and the request anon! I hope you like it~

Genre: Floof. Pure, plotless floof

Word count: 973

Tags:  @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: Today was tiring as hell. I got up at 7:30 to study for my exam at 1 pm and I had a 2 hour lecture to go over after that.  I feel like I was studying for a good 10 hours today alone and I was already tired this entire week.  And it's only Wednesday... Which is why I couldn't wait to write this! I was in dire need of some plain, quick, simple, plotless floof, so I’m happy I had this request to fill next.  I hope you guys out there are in a good mental state as the semester is wrapping up, and if not I hope this cheered you up a bit!

Also (I’m a few days late but still) Ramadan Mubarak to my muslim readers/followers!  I wish you an easy fast, willpower, and spirituality in the following month. You got this!  I’ll also try to include NSFR warnings if anyone wants? I know swearing and spicy stuff aren’t allowed, but I’m not 100% sure about the fluffy stuff so let me know!

"This way, Katsuki, let's go."  I gently pull my boyfriend down the street, capturing his arm in mine to balance his wobbly gait.

He mumbles something incoherent and leans into me.  "We going home now?"

"Yup, I already picked up your medication.  Are you keeping that ice pack on your face?"

"Yeeees," he groans.  Katsuki usually hates it when I mother him, but today he really needed it.  Poor guy was scared of having his wisdom teeth removed and didn't trust anyone else to accompany him.  It's kind of endearing, especially since he's become such a giant, clumsy mess now.  "You're becoming my mom."

"Well, you are acting like a lost child right now, who else is gonna take care of you?"  I squeeze his hand reassuringly.

He hums in response before leaning onto me, "I guess I'm really lucky then."  Removing the ice pack, he pokes his cheek.  "Can you kiss it better?"

I blink, completely floored by his request.  I know the anesthesia has its effects on people, but it seems it makes Katsuki way more soft and needy than usual.

Not that I'm complaining.

I stand on my toes and peck his cold cheek.  "Is it better now?"

"Mmm, I'll probably need another dose in an hour," he encircles both of his arms around one of mine, "I'll let you know how the pain is."

Gosh, he's just gonna be adorable for the rest of the day, isn't he?   "Should I drop you home or do you want to rest at my place?"

Katsuki's arms crawl over to envelop my torso from behind.  "Your place, of course," he half giggles, his breath tickling my ear.

I chuckle at his behavior, directing us towards the nearest station.  I'm definitely gonna enjoy this.  A small part of me almost wants to record him, but I'd rather just enjoy these few moments I have of him acting this way.  I'm too nice to embarrass him like that.

Since it's the middle of the day during the week, the station and the train seats are mostly empty.  Katsuki gets comfortable, sprawling his legs across the cold bench and resting his head on my lap.  He keeps one of his hands messily entwined with mine and lets me use my free hand to play with his hair.  I gaze down at him, smiling to myself.  Katsuki being soft and lovable like this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.  Of course I know he loves me already, but to see him without the whole harsh persona is definitely something else.  The blooming warmth stirs me to press a soft kiss on his forehead.  My little Katsu.

He opens his eyes to stare up at me, asking out of the blue, "Do I look or sound weird?"

The childish innocence he asks the question with makes me chuckle.  "Not at all, babe."

His crimson orbs continue boring into mine for a moment, just holding my attention, before he reaches up and brings my head down to kiss his lips.  The motion takes me by surprise since he's not the type to take PDA this far in public.  The heat rushes to my cheeks, and I'm eternally grateful that this car is almost empty, and the few people here with us are busy fiddling with their phones.

"You missed, dummy," Katsuki beams before closing his eyes again.

My heart thumps.  He's so adorable sometimes.  His toothy smile was just the right amount of cute and loving, the rarest smile I've seen only once before.  I want to melt into a puddle and pinch his cheeks

You big dork.  I continue threading my fingers into his hair, the rattling of the train relaxing the tired boy.

.

Once we arrive at my apartment, Katsuki shrugs out of his jacket and shoes and situates himself under my kotatsu, not even bothering to turn it on; he just grabbed one of the long cushions, stuck it under his body, and knocked himself onto his side.  As I'm still removing my outer clothes, he reaches one arm out and makes grabbing motions.  "Babe, come lay with me," he practically whines out.

Is he pouting?  I want to laugh at his needy behavior, but I'll admit I want to cuddle with him too.  After the procedure he's been through and the pain he's going to experience in the next few days, he deserves all the hugs he wants.  Who am I to deny him?  I plug the wire in and turn the switch on before lifting the blanket up and squirming underneath.  Without wasting any time, Katsuki pulls my body flush into his chest, wiggling both of us farther underneath.

The needy boy lets out a satisfied sigh as the blanket starts heating up.  His head pulls back to look down at me, hooded scarlet eyes trying not to close as they brim with affection.  "You're my favorite."  His thumb at my cheek softly rubs at my skin.

I close my eyes and nuzzle his hand.  "Your favorite what?"

"Anything and everything."  He plants a kiss on top of my head.  "You're just my favorite thing."

Despite the fresh wave of warm tingles humming through me, I tease him, "So I'm a thing now?"

Instead of groaning like he would under normal circumstances, he crushes me closer to his body.  "Yeah, you're my teddy bear now, and you're not going anywhere for the rest of the day."

"But what if it gets really hot under here, Katsu?"

"Nope, you're still staying," he shakes his head like a stubborn kid, his voice already drooping into sleep before he yawns.  "You have to cuddle all my pain away."

As if I need a reason to cuddle you all day, silly.  My hand pats his back in a steady rhythm.  "Whatever you say, my baby Katsu."

[justsomefluff]

Hi I have ADHD and sometimes I forget to take my meds which makes me quite hyper, can you do a reaction with ateez where you forgot to take your medicine and is really hyper?

Guess who’s back-back-back again-gain-gain...After a long time because im lazy lmaoooo. Here it is, thank you for being patient my dearest. and please do take your meds its important <3 Keep yourself happy and healthy always anon

ALSO, i do not have ADHD so this is just based off of what I have been told about it or how friends who DO have it have explained things to me. If i offend or misrepresent ANYTHING please let me know. I tried to write this pretty neutrally without a lot of detail on the actual disorder.

Hongjoong:

Kind of oblivious at first

Like “oh they’re a lil fidgety today”

But as the day goes on he’s like

“something is amiss”

You’re moving all over the place, being a lil chatterbox

And he’s gettin a lil suspicious

“Heyyyyyyy,” pretty much clotheslines you as you speed through different rooms because you won’t (read: cant) STOP

“Did yooooouuuuu… take your meds?” 

Smiley face. Wink. “No.”

Immediate understands

But begs you to take your medication because you sometimes get embarrassed of your hyperactivity later

Like you feel like you were annoying him or something 

and he assures you that you weren’t bothering him, but anxiety be like that so, ya know

Just doesn’t want you to overtire yourself or feel bad late

Seonghwa:

Overprotective

Always asks you if you took your meds in the morning

Likes a routine and wants to make sure youre always happy and healthy

But if he oversleeps and gets thrown off

And therefore does not remind you to take your medicine…

Freaks out a lil

Mini heart attack

Mostly feels bad because he feels responsible

How could he forget to take care of you this way?

Then you have to expend all your extra energy assuring him that even you forget sometimes 

But then he starts setting reminders in both of your phones

Will even text you when he’s away for work uwu

Best of intentions…low-key a nag… but Mama Hwa

Yunho: 

Will lowkey bask in your hyperactivity

Like AYYYYYYYY

Like he knows its important for you to take your medication but…

Every once in a while he finds it kind of fun

Will take you to dance practice with him even if its his day off

Thinks it will be the only time you will commit to learning an entire choreo with him lmaooooo

Also kind of lets himself go a little bit

Like lets spend the day being crackheads and just expend all of our energy

And then cuddle at the end of the night when, inevitably, we are too exhausted to move

Loves that he gets to see that side of you and gets to share in good memories like those

But still reminds you to take your medicine the day after

Yeosang:

(he’s so cute im over here sobbing)

Honestly, I see him being the slightest bit overwhelmed by it

Like have you seen him when Wooyoung gets hyper

he’s like Whoa, child

Wants to calm you down ever so slightly

Like “be gentle with me, I am but a child”

But will still laugh at your antics

Of course, he loves every part of you

Everything can just kind of be too much for him sometimes lmao

Will take you places and do activities with you until you are both worn out

Will make you take care of him the rest of the night and tease you

Like “look what I have to put up with. You made me walk so much today”

But its gentle and sweet at the same time

San:

Thinks its funny but is actually concerned on the inside

Kind of worried that you might hurt yourself while youre speeding around

Tries to convince you not to wait until tomorrow to take the next dose

Follows you around just waiting to catch you if you slip

Damn near wraps you in bubble wrap when you stub your toe

Like, San… “I can still function, sir”

“But you stubbed your toe”

“Everyone does that sometimes”

Starts to calm down when he realizes that you really are gonna be okay, you’re just going to experience the day a little bit quicker than normal

Twice the speed of the average human

Speedy, he calls you

Squirrel comparisons on the way

Mingi:

Why do I feel like he wouldn’t even notice lmao

He’d just be like “wow, they have a lot of energy today”

Goes about the day normally

At the end of the day, you tell him about everything that you were able to get done

Whether its work, school, cleaning, errands, binging a TV series, or ALL of the above

And he’s like… “how”

And you’re like, well let me tell you about the lil thing I forgot to do this morning

Clueless lmao… “What did you forget?”

“Mah meds.”

“Ohhhhh…”

Then he tries to understand how you managed to do all of those things without your meds

And you’re like… I probably half-assed them but

At least they’re done!

Wooyoung:

Just makes fun of you the whole time

Like lets be real

He’s hyper on his own

And loves seeing you that way because he can relate to it

Also, you do some stuff that might not be the smartest because you’ve got so much energy to expend

“DONT SLIDE DOWN THE HALL IN SOCKS”

Laughs when you fall

Joins you though because, while mildly dangerous…

Looks fun

Never lets you get self-conscious about anything because he is really good at matching your energy the whole day

Is awesome at just letting you work through the day at the pace you feel is right

Somehow manages to keep up with you the entire time, no matter how hard it can be sometimes

Jongho:

Another one who is a little bit overwhelmed

Kind of shy and introverted and quiet in general

So if you get super-duper talkative and loud he might be kind of thrown off his game

Like how do I handle this

How do I be the best boyfriend during this

Overthin-King

Just internally debating whether he should tell you to take your meds, join in on your activities, or just let you ride out the hyperactivity on your own

Spends the entire day thinking about it’

Ends up letting you just do your thing on your own… not that he decided that was the best option

He was just too busy thinking about it to actually make a decision lmao