#shows a very shallow understanding of the sport as a whole

[r00k-io]

Oh you hate Lance Stroll because he's a nepo baby? You a Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Charles Leclerc, FORMULA ONE fan, Hate Lance because he's a nepo baby?

[animehouse-moe]

The Summer Hikaru Died, Volume 2: I know it ain't right

Yes, it took me a bit to get to reading this volume, but this is one of those series I really want to be in the mood to read when I do get to it. And it's absolutely worth it for the hot mess of love and horror that appear in this volume. Mokumokuren is providing such a riveting experience for the reader, and sneaking all sort of things in to make it even better. More than enough to want to talk about with this volume for sure.

So let's talk "Hikaru" and Yoshiki. This relationship is so complex and convoluted, that even what I said with the first volume is a shaky and shallow interpretation of what's going on with them. Obviously, "Hikaru's" powers are still a manifestation of his form of love, and a mirror for Yoshiki to look in in regards to how he himself feels about both "Hikaru" and Hikaru.

But that sentiment grows deeper and deeper in this volume, and for a couple of reasons. The duality of "Hikaru" and his relationship with Yoshiki is incredibly strong, and you see Yoshiki make comments about wanting to stop, wanting to leave "Hikaru" behind, but being unable to.

And then there's the sort of heavy handed work in panels like this one.

Yoshiki is represented by his black hair in the manga, while "Hikaru" sports white hair. The idea of a yin and yang immediately appears, and by applying the inverse colors to a scene like this one you immediately understand what Mokumokuren is doing. Yoshiki and "Hikaru" are mixing. In what way you take that word is your own interpretation, but the lines between them as individuals is beginning to blur.

Now this part is far more subjective and questionable, but here's my interpretation. "Hikaru" is obviously the one controlling/dominating the situation. While it doesn't look like hands, you can undoubtedly feel them in how the black mass reaches out and covers Yoshiki. However, I had said earlier that black was Yoshiki and white was "Hikaru". Personally, while this scene is "Hikaru" dominating Yoshiki, I think it's a representation of the similar feelings that Yoshiki himself bears, and I'll show you why.

Later on in the volume, something appears in Yoshiki's house, and "Hikaru" comes over to consume it. Except, things get a little hairy (pun intended) and Yoshiki intervenes.

Whatever it is has similar abilities to "Hikaru" and it presents Yoshiki with a very interesting scene. A mass of brains approaches Yoshiki and suffocates him with the words and whispers of the town around him. It's a personalized horror for Yoshiki that takes from his own mind, hence the brain-like figures from which the words pour out, and how they in turn collapse around him and close him in.

However, something changes, a young Hikaru appears in front of Yoshiki, dredging up feelings from the past.

They push and shove and bicker with one another over Crowly, and as they do, Yoshiki regresses in age to match. Though make no mistake, it's got a purpose. Yoshiki's regression has to do with his actions and his re-experience of this moment that Yoshiki undoubtedly repressed.

And what he does here, in his own mind, is reflected in reality where he fights to keep "Hikaru" underwater. It's an incredibly strong moment in Yoshiki's character where we see him break in proper. Does he realize that he's grappling "Hikaru" currently? Is that his heart's intent in this moment when he's faced with the real Hikaru in this liminal space?

It's.... a lot to take in and contextualize. What is love, to Yoshiki? What is he able to show, what is he able to experience? What can he feel from Hikaru vs "Hikaru". It's a very loaded moment that plays in opposition to the first volume's ending point. Where "Hikaru" was the one overwhelming Yoshiki there, here we see Yoshiki overwhelming "Hikaru"

And there's still so much more to this volume. The whole thing about a young Hikuaru? That wasn't purely Yoshiki's own feelings in that moment. His one classmate provides the context to look at "Hikaru" as a child rather than a monster. Not some thing, but some one that needs to grow and develop and mature.

Now, is that a good thing? Obviously not, no. That's codependency, and that woman spoke to something similar with saying that Yoshiki and "Hikaru" would mix. Because that's what they're doing.

Yoshiki can't live without Hikaru, and "Hikaru" can't live without Yoshiki. It's as simple as that, and even though Yoshiki has full control of the situation he can't let go. He can't let go of his love, he can't let go of the little boy that's pulling on his shirt, or the younger self he sees in the mirror. It doesn't matter if it's dangerous or bad, Yoshiki can't let go.

I'm unsure if "love" is even the correct word anymore. It hardly feels like there's any left. There's hatred, control, confusion, sorrow and frustration- effectively everything but happiness is there for Yoshiki. But still, he clings to his dead friend. To a love that could never be love. To something that he could never love, no matter what, because it's not Hikaru.

It's such a complicated and deep appeal to a twisted romance married with personal horror that I really can't think of another series that comes close to a similar feeling or experience. It doesn't hold your hand or tell you every detail of their relationship, instead forcing you to read between the lines and choose an interpretation that you believe is correct. But then it'll provide something new that will change your perception and cause it to evolve and twist until you become altogether just as uncertain as Yoshiki.

And then there's the actual horror aspect. It plays so well using perspective and layouts. Establishing overhead shots to isolate Kaoru in the lead up to the bathroom works great, and the reveal that doesn't work purely on shock, but rather disturbing and scaring Kaoru is just so good.

Mokumokuren is performing an incredible feat on all fronts here with The Summer Hikaru Died. I mean, this is their first serialized work, and what they're providing is an incredibly twisted story about Yoshiki's need to love Hikaru, and the suffocating nature of a country town that encircles him and his family. Just incredibly great work that everybody should be reading.

[22degreehalo]

On a more practical note.

When I'm shelving in the children's section, I see a loooooooot of books that are like. 'Famous Women Who Changed The World!' and similar. Just so, so, SO many, sometimes about a specific area (like sport), sometimes not. But never, of course, for boys.

And. The 'why's of this are all too obvious even to summarise. Men are already the default blah blah blah.

But... that whole 'you never get singled out because you're subtly treated as the default in all sorts of ways' is a hard thing for even adults to fully consciously understand and process. And kids first start to get a sense of their own gender from three years old.

And this isn't just a 'are we setting little boys up to feel like they're not special' thing. It's a thing that kids really learn from EVERYTHING we do - even the little things we don't realise we're expressing. This might be a manufactured memory, but I could swear that as a kid whenever I watched shows where a totally cool masked sportsperson or whatever turned out to be a woman, and a kid was shocked, and the whole message was 'girls can be good at sports, too!'... I thought to myself 'oh, some people think girls can't be good at sport.'

Just. It's the 'don't think about an elephant' thing, you know? If you make a book about cool scientists and half of them are women, kids will learn that there are a lot of cool scientists in history. If you make one book about cool women in history, then cool: it's a book about cool people in history and I'm a girl so here are the ones that relate to me! But if a kid goes somewhere and there are heaps of 'Girls are SO COOL and can do ANTYTHING THEY WANT and THAT INCLUDES SPORTS AND SCIENCE AND ENGINEERING!!!!!!' and that kid is four years old and still in the process of developing complex thought and empathy. Idk.

(There are exceptions! There's a paired set of early reader series called 'Boys Rock' and 'Girls Rule' or something comparable and I think that's fine!! Most people have some sort of sense of their own internal gender, including kids, and having some very shallow ways to express that and feel a sense of belonging is I think totally healthy. And it allows the possibility of kids sneaking a look at one of the ~other~ books and realising that maybe they're not so different!)

[baddiedaddy7]

5th house✨🌻

the 5th house is not what you attract, it’s how you are in the dating world/casual dating, what dates you may like, how you are in the beginning stages of a relationship and flirting. it’s also about your passion, and what you may like to do in your spare time. then lastly, children. feminine signs-more likely to have a female or child with feminine energy. masculine signs-more likely to have a male or child with masculine energy. do not plagiarize🙃.

Aries/Mars🔥

likes the chase(being chased or vice versa). gets bored fast, so needs somebody that keeps them guessing. bold/upfront, will probably tell you if they like you, or how they feel in general. may do things too fast(say “i love you” early, get over excited easily, etc). daring in the dating scene/at the beginning of a relationship. flirting style may be physical(confident/not rlly awkward, and makes flirting obvious), or playful(play fight, tickles lmao, laughs more, etc). might prefer dates full of thrills(amusement park, hiking, skydiving, rock climbing, sports, party, etc). hobbies may be sports, karate, working out, violent or sporty video games, etc. indicates a liking for vigorous/explicit music lmao. children may also be into sports, karate, exercising, etc. most likely one of your children will have mars/aries in their chart, probably the oldest. children may be rude, full of energy, bratty/spoiled, passionate, bossy, etc, since these are traits of aries. a LOT of ppl with these placements get a c-section, atleast once, and most likely w/the first child. unexpected pregnancy is also seen here. oldest is most likely going to be a boy. since aries is fast, your kids may try to be born early, or are born earlier than due date.

Taurus/Venus🌸

“slow and steady wins the race” types. sensual. conventional. very romantic. stable. likes to touch/skin to skin. not complicated, some may find you “boring”. warm in the dating world/at the beginning of a relationship. flirting style is most likely polite(not perverted, well mannered, may come off as reserved even though they’re interested, etc). dates shall be lavish or romantic lol. candles, dinners, beautiful park, etc. hobbies may be baking/cooking, napping, binge watching tv, beauty(makeup, hair), shopping, tending to a garden, etc. you may like love songs, pop, rnb, jazz, slowed + reverb, etc. most likely makes sure their kids are dressed up/styled😎. kids are most likely beautiful, and in great condition. kids may like to watch you cook/bake, or do it with you. most likely one of your children will have taurus/venus in their chart, probably the oldest. children will most likely be patient, stubborn, well mannered, cold, practical, lazy, etc, since these are traits of taurus. pregnancy is usually smooth. oldest is most likely going to be a girl. i’ve known quite a few ppl w/this that actually like being pregnant. it makes so much sense that kylie jenner has this, literally all this applies😭.

Gemini/Mercury🌼

another placement that gets bored quickly, so keep them guessing. probably has a new crush every week or multiple at once. intelligent, and talkative. daydreams/thinks abt crush a lot. most likely tells their friends abt their crush too. happy-go-lucky in the dating world/at the beginning of a relationship. flirting style is most likely playful(calling eachother names, play fighting, etc). dates may be at a fair, library, etc. hobbies usually are social media, reading, trivia, writing, socializing, etc. honestly most likely likes all genres of music, but esp hyper music(edm, rap, pop, etc). most likely one of your children will have gemini/mercury in their chart, probably the oldest. children may be sneaky, curious, smart mouthed, witty, moody, etc, since these are the traits of gemini. adoption is indicated here. twins, or many kids in one pregnancy are also indicated here, and if that’s the cause then they’re most likely going to be male(s). pregnancy may seem quick.

Cancer/Moon🦀

loving, and affectionate. try to avoid being obsessive, and easily jealous. you may get attached too early in a relationship. they might be shy at first, gotta get them out their shell. tender in the dating scene/at the beginning of a relationship. flirting style may be traditional(man asks first/initiate, gazing/eye contact, etc) or sincere(blushing/makes it obvious, laughing a lot, etc). may prefer dates at home, museum, or park. hobbies may be mainly at home(cooking/baking, knitting, listening to music, watching tv, sleeping, watching little kids/younger relatives, etc). listens to certain music genres based off of mood, likes music that’s relatable, and in depth. most likely one of your children will have cancer/moon in their chart, probably the oldest. children may be caring, moody, emotional, clingy, kind, jealous, etc, since these are the traits of cancer. usually very fertile, and may have many kids. oldest is most likely gonna be a girl. try not to be obsessive w/your kids or too protective. i recommend using more than one source of protection😂.

Leo/Sun☀️

confident, and friendly. usually social butterflies. selfish with their partners lol, wants all their attention. jolly in the dating world/at the beginning of the relationship. flirting style is physical(confident) or playful(joking around/calling eachother names playfully, etc). shows their partner off. for dates, they seem like they’re down for anything. hobbies may be acting, singing, socializing, partying, painting, taking selfies, social media, etc. probably one of those assholes that play music so loudly/on speakers lmaoo. their music taste is in ✨good taste✨. most likely one of your children will have leo/sun in their chart, probably the oldest. confident, overdramatic, energetic, bossy, friendly, etc, since these are the traits of leo. you will shove your kids good traits in other parents faces💀, or just show them off in general. oldest is most likely going to be a boy. kids will most likely have great health.

Virgo/Mercury🐛

(im gonna say “we”, since this is my placement lol)

if we really like you, you can do no wrong in our eyes. we should try not to put our interest on a high pedestal, as we get disappointed easily sometimes😭. we have to learn that nobody is perfect, and make sacrifices. intelligent and chatty also. selfless in love/server love. another placement that most likely daydreams/thinks abt crush a lot. also talks abt crush a lot to friends. cautious in the dating scene/at the beginning of a relationship. flirting style is traditional(smiley, if a women/someone attracted to men expects the man to initiate lol or atleast wants him to, shy) or polite(pleasant, good manners, non sexual, etc). i admit, some of us send mixed signals😭. likes dates where you can talk/get to know eachother, so a library, coffee shop, etc. hobbies may be social media, hanging out, cleaning, shopping, making plans, debating, etc. another placement that likes all/most music genres. most likely one of your children will have virgo/mercury in their chart, probably the oldest. children may be clever, critical, fast learners, complainer, pragmatic, etc since these are the traits of virgo. we will worry/stress out abt our kids a lot. may also adopt or foster. twins/multiple births at once is indicated, and they’re most likely gonna be female(s). another placement that makes pregnancy seem like it goes quick.

Libra/Venus��

loves compliments. probably shallow tbh. easy going with partners. charming in the dating scene/beginning of a relationship. flirting style is sincere(makes eye contact, plays w/hair, etc). likes “beautiful” dates(beach, park, garden, etc) or dinners, it just needs to be romantic lol. hobbies are socializing, social media, taking pics, beauty(makeup, hair, skincare, etc), shopping, etc. may like love songs, rnb, jazz, pop, or multiple genres in general. most likely one of yours children will have libra/venus in their chart, probably the oldest. oldest is most likely going to be a girl. children may be social/popular, shallow, easygoing, etc since these are the traits of libra. makes sure their kids dress nicely.

Scorpio/Pluto🥀

likes to keep details of relationships private, but that doesn’t mean they’re gonna keep YOU private/hidden as a whole. probably falls hard. tries to hide vulnerability in love. don’t be neurotic in love lol. intense in the dating scene/beginning of a relationship. flirting style is sincere(mysterious, good eye contact, genuine interest, etc). might like “dark” dates (abandoned places, cemeteries, horror movies, etc.) hobbies are astrology, conspiracy theories, anything taboo, witch craft, watching videos abt crime, being alone, etc. likes “dark” music, maybe even like satanic shit. music abt scorpio themes(death, sex, etc). explicit songs. rap, rock, things like that. most likely one of your children will have scorpio/pluto in their chart, probably the oldest. children may be secretive, clever, possessive, intense, emotional, etc since these are the traits of scorpio. try not to be over controlling or possessive of children, and be open to change. usually fertile.

Sagittarius/Jupiter🍀

generous in relationships, gives, and gives. might not take things seriously when they should. spirited, and optimistic in the dating scene/the beginning of a relationship. flirting style is playful (inside jokes, more giggly around “them”, etc). carnivals, short traveling, anything wild(skydiving, bungee jumping, etc), are ideal dates for these ppl. hobbies consist of hanging out, learning(esp of other cultures, and religions), sports, reading, etc. probably likes religious music lmao, or music in languages they don’t even understand, if not then pop or rap. most likely one of your children will have sagittarius/jupiter in their chart, probably the oldest. children may be loud, rude, honest, selfish, curious, etc since these are the traits of sagittarius. ppl with this placement have/want a whole gang(like a lot of kids lmao), “the more the merrier”. probably gets pregnant without trying/the first try lmao.

Capricorn/Saturn🪐

doesn’t have time for games. a reliable, and loyal partner. serious in the dating scene/at the beginning of a relationship. flirting style is traditional(man speaks up first, clever, etc). dinner, museums, wine tasting, etc are good date ideas for you. hobbies may range from reading, working, shopping, learning abt history, collecting, etc. might like classical music, chill music/slowed + reverb, music from back in the day, etc. most likely one of your children will have capricorn/saturn in their chart, probably the oldest. children may be responsible, “boring”, caring, standoffish, reliable, etc since these are the traits of capricorn. you’re might not even want kids, or might have them in your 30s or even 40s, and if you do have kids it’s likely not that many(1 or 2 lol).

Aquarius/Uranus👾

some will be turned off by your distantness, some won’t mind. open minded in the dating scene/in a beginning of a relationship. flirting style is polite(aloof, might be awkward, honest, etc). painting, video games, go donating blood together, etc are probably ideal dates for you lol(also anything eccentric). hobbies are technology, social media, helping others, astrology, unusual sports, theories, etc. music taste may not be mainstream. might like unusual music genres like vapor wave, nintendocore, etc lmao. may also like alt, edm, etc. most likely one of your children will have aquarius/uranus in their chart, probably the oldest. children may be unique, cold, thinks outside the box, arrogant, etc since these are the traits of aquarius. you might adopt, or get unexpectedly pregnant. if you want kids of your own, you’re gonna need to know when you’re ovulating, since your fertility is likely all over the place.

Pisces/Neptune🍄

selfless, and dreamy partner. another placement that may ignore red flags, when feelings are involved. wholesome in the dating scene/beginning of a relationship. flirting style is sincere(blushes easily, stares, more smiley, makes it obvious, etc). painting, cuddling, listening to music with each other, etc are ideal dates for these ppl, but honestly i feel like they’d be down for anything. hobbies may be painting, singing, listening to music, sleeping, having friends over, drugs, and alcohol, etc. probably has many playlists, and listens to everything. “stoner” music lmao. most likely one of your children will have pisces/neptune in their chart, probably the oldest. children may be bashful, over sensitive, imaginative, lazy, sweet, etc since these are the traits of pisces. children’s birth may have hidden details(ancestry, hereditary, etc).

[growup-thatbeautiful]

Read the other parts here!

A/n: guys…it’s here. the last part. thank you so much for staying with this. shoutout to my amazing betas: @mrscromanoff @natashalovers i love ya’ll <333

Word Count: 7k

so, there are a few warnings for this chapter! take care of yourself, please. if you want to skip a part feel free to message me. warnings: drowning, homophobia, dads, angst, past trauma, light kissing, cold

Taglist: @mrscromanoff @timmyslover @fayhar @username23345 @natashalovers @tasteslikeicedcoffee @hoeforwandanat @angie-1746 @steveharringtonisadisasterdotcom @whore4nat @romanoffswrld @marrymemcgrath @pawiie @sapphosclosefriend @fabgronsky @tastingcevans @kawaiitoga @xxsekhmet @natblackwidow2 @silver-lotus @m-zne237 @imnotslouching @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @wildnightadventures @m4ddie3 @natflough04 @losethetimewqr @rebel-author-chick @333hhm @mrscromanoff @imobsessedwithmilfss @unexpected-character

The Proposal Part Six

The boat cuts through the icy waters like a knife, deep blue rushing underneath you. Beside you, Natasha is sitting in one of the front seats, hair whipping around her head, red strands flying everywhere. After your realization on the dock, the two of you decided to just head home. Neither one of you is emotionally equipped for such deep conversations today, and the temptation of doing nothing is too much. Somehow, you even convinced Natasha to come on the boat with you in a matter of seconds.

You want to memorize the moment, and keep it with you forever. You don’t know how to do that, though, so you resign yourself to making it the most memorable you can. This won’t be just another magical, supposed life-changing memory that you forget the next day. No, this will be with you. It’s a plea, a dedication you tell yourself instead of accepting the inevitable bad ending of this all.

“Do you want to learn how to drive the boat?”

“Fuck no,” laughs Natasha. “I’m not an advocate for water sporting.”

“Obviously I know that,” you say. “But isn’t it better to face your adversary and take control of the situation? Show it who’s the boss?”

“I can literally show you that I’m your boss and don’t have to listen to a word that you’re saying right now,” suggests Natasha helpfully, raising an eyebrow at you. You choose to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the way she’s looking at you. For now, at least.

“Very funny. Sounds to me like you’re just scared.”

“Obviously I’m scared. The ocean is fucking terrifying. We know more about space than we know about the ocean. Even shallow parts are mysteries to us, not to mention the bottom where fish bigger than your house live. So, yeah, I’m scared.” Fortunately, you know Natasha well enough to know when you can push her further. Now is one of those times, especially since you two have opened up to each other so much recently. Maybe you can have another, albeit minuscule, effect on her life. She will not forget you or this if you have anything to say about it.

“You don’t seem like the person to let a little bit of fear control you.” The taunt does the job. With a perfected glare and an overdramatic sigh that might have worked as a fear tactic for someone else, she gets out of the passenger seat.

She sits in the seat and you stand behind her, slowing the boat down to a learner's pace. Then, slowly, you take her through the steps that you’ve known your whole life. It’s strange to be teaching them because they’re embedded so far into your nature. Things you do naturally you now have to explain and think about. Now you understand why Natasha always went so slow when she was helping you improve your editing skills. What you thought had been her underestimating you really had been like this. Teaching something so closely aligned with your heart isn’t easy. She’s always been trying to help you, even when she didn’t use the best words or tone.

Predictably, Natasha is a fast learner. She quickly picks up the details, which shouldn't surprise you as much as it does. You know for a fact that she has at least three different types of licenses for motorcycles, helicopters, and, for some reason and despite her fear, planes.

“I’m doing it! Look!” You’re pulled back out of your thoughts by Natasha’s voice, clear and cutting through your distracting haze. The excitement in her voice is enough to make you cry. Honestly, you can’t really believe that she’s even doing this. For an unexplained reason, one that you hope to learn at some point, she’s never gotten close to any large bodies of water without you forcefully dragging her across them. Her hair is flying across her face hiding the huge grin you get glimpses of.

“Natasha, keep your eyes ahead,” you laugh, reaching over her to straighten out the wheel. She looks forward again, and you miss seeing her joy, but you’d rather not crash the boat today.

Everything is going smoothly when another boat comes up beside you. With horror, you realize that it’s someone you know from high school. This particular person never appreciated your honesty or, well, anything about you, not that you ever cared. People always talked, you just learned not to listen. Unfortunately, that gave the impression of over-confidence or superiority, a blatantly false perception of you.

All to say, he holds a bit of a grudge against you and is the type of person to hold said grudge. So, it shouldn’t come as a surprise when in true asshole fashion, he swerves in front of your boat. Running on pure instinct and survival, you grab the wheel and yank it to the side roughly. For a moment, you feel suspended in the air, and then there’s the rushing feeling that nothing is beneath you. Everything else returns with a crack of your head against the inside of the boat. There’s a ringing noise in your ears that fades with his laughter. With dulled senses, you look around for Natasha, hoping she didn’t get hit any harder than you.

Things come crashing back down when you realize that she’s not on the boat. You don’t see her red hair anywhere besides you or across from you, not even dangling on the side. If your hearing wasn’t so messed up you probably would have heard the calling of your name or the frantic crashing. Stumbling around to get to the wheel, you stop the boat abruptly and lunge over the side of the boat, looking for Natasha. A few meters away, you see her, fighting with water with everything she has.

“Shit, Natasha get in the boat!” It’s not the calmest thing to say, or the most helpful. In fact, it might be one of the worst things you can say, but it seems like all rational thinking has left your brain.

“What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do?” she sputters, arms flailing. Without a second thought, you fling your sweatshirt off and throw it to the side, hopping out of your shoes. You dive into the water, the cold hitting you a moment after you tell yourself to brace for it. With practiced movements you swim over to her, your arms hooking around her chest and pulling her back to the boat. She’s flailing wildly, trying her best to help.

“Natasha, stop moving. I can’t help you if I’m getting kicked and punched constantly. Please, come on, help me out, please,” you beg, voice breathy and shaking. It works, though, because she goes still in your arms as the water slides by you and you finally feel the smooth material of the boat behind you.

“Climb up.” You try to help as best you can, but you don’t really have too much leverage from treading in the water. As long as she gets in the boat and you aren’t sitting idly by. Or, rather, swimming idly by. You follow up after her and flop onto the deck of the boat, breathing heavily. Natasha is right beside you, just as wiped out as you are.

She’s wet all over, the cold water soaking into every part of her. You know the feeling well, but you’ve had your whole life to get used to freezing waters. Natasha doesn't even swim at the beach, where the water is warm and inviting. You’re not sure she even takes baths. You can’t even feel the cold seeping through your own skin, being too focused on her.

You don’t hesitate to take her sweatshirt off of her and give her yours that you took off earlier. The soaked one hits the floor with a satisfying noise.

“Try to stay warm. I’m driving us home.”

“You aren’t cold?” Natasha asks. It doesn’t contain her usual menace, though, because her teeth are chattering loudly. “I mean, I almost drowned and all, but you were in the water as well.”

“Why are you worrying about me right now?” you reply incredulously. “Natasha, I grew up falling off the dock at my house at least twice a year. I’ve had my whole life to prepare for things like this.” While you’re talking you set up the boat to go back home as soon as possible.

“You remember I grew up in Russia, right? One of the coldest places?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Still, I’m not taking any chances. Who would want frostbite the day before their wedding?” Natasha hums and curls tighter around your sweatshirt. Despite her words, you don’t believe for a second that she’s actually okay. You don’t know the reason behind her fear of the water, or her fear of planes, but you can’t imagine it steps from nothing. She hasn’t had the easiest life, as you’ve learned, so there’s probably an amount of trauma behind her fears. You want to give her the shortest opportunity possible to think about what just happened before you distract her with warm clothes and a scalding hot shower.

You arrive back at the house in a few minutes and do exactly that. Of course, you two fight about who goes first, being more concerned about the other person instead of yourselves. In the end, you convince Natasha to go, claiming that she’s the guest and it’s your high-school misgivings that technically led you here. Her counter that her bad driving was the cause is unheard by you as you push her into the bathroom.

While she showers you collect the warmest and comfiest clothes you have, rustling through sock drawers. You hear the water turn off and knock on the bathroom door gently.

“Natasha, I know you didn’t pack any warm clothes so I got some of mine out for you.” The door opens enough for you to pass her the items and shuts back closed. After some time, she comes out, dressed in your hoodie and sweatpants, wet hair lying across her shoulders in loose waves.

“Your turn,” she smiles. You nod and go into the bathroom.

The shower helps you warm up as well as clear your mind. Steaming water runs down your back and you think about everything that’s happened today. The intense high of talking with Natasha before getting on the boat, and then the terrifying moment when you couldn't find her. Followed by seeing her in the water, struggling more than you’ve seen her before, knowing that she can’t swim. She was powerless for the first time, and you were right there beside her, just as powerless for a second. A second that seemed like it lasted forever before you jumped into action and saved her.

It’s impossible not to think about all the other ways it could have gone today. You could have crashed the boat, or capsized. Natasha could have gone too far under, far enough that you can’t be there to save her. You couldn’t swim with her. The water was too cold. Ice in the water hit one of you. The scenarios run through your head rapidly, and you shake your head, trying to clear them away. It works well enough, but you can’t get rid of the emotions.

Natasha can help. Just seeing Natasha will help, you’re sure of it. There’s nothing like the comfort Natasha provides.

You get dressed quickly and make your way back into the bedroom, towards where Natasha is sitting in one of the large armchairs, legs curled up underneath her. Her face is still pale, and you can see her shaking, but you know it’s not from the cold.

“I know you won’t talk about it if you don’t want to,” you start. “But if you do want to talk, you know I’m here. Whatever you need, Natasha. Even if it’s hot cocoa or extra blankets.”

Natasha nods and looks at you where you’re seated across from her. “I never had anyone teach me how to swim. I don’t think Alexi knows how, and Melinda hates the beach. So I already didn’t really like being by the water, but then when I was with Yelena one day she fell into the water. I couldn’t help her, so I ran and found someone else. After that, I never wanted to be by any water. I guess I thought I would grow out of it, but I never did. Couldn’t get that image out of my mind, my baby sister so alone and helpless.”

“I’m so sorry, Natasha.” It feels like you’ve been saying that a lot to her, and it still doesn’t seem like enough.

“It’s fine,” she says, standing up. You mirror her, not wanting this to be brushed aside like it doesn’t matter.

“No, it’s not,” you protest quietly.

“Right, it’s not,” she agrees. “But it’s not something anyone can fix except for me, which I don’t really need. Not in the midst of everything else.”

You’re hesitant to ask, but you can’t help yourself. “Are you okay, though?”

“Probably, or at least I will be eventually. These things get better.” You don’t know what to say again. All words seem insignificant at the moment. So, in two steps you reach out and hug her tightly. After a moment of internally debating, she wraps her arms around you, locking them tightly.

You don’t know how long you stay like that. At some point, Natasha rests her head on your shoulder, her neck craned at an awkward angle. You can’t feel the telltale shaking of her shoulders to know if she’s crying, but you don’t think she is. This feels more relieved and calming than that.

“Honey, can I talk to you?” Your dad is knocking on the door, talking through it without opening it.

“Now’s not really a good time, dad,” you call, holding Natasha tighter. She does the same to you, her arms around your waist

“It’s important. We need to talk.”

“You should just go,” suggests Natasha.

“Yeah, but I really don’t want to. Are you sure you don’t need more hugs to warm yourself up?” Reluctantly, you let go of Natasha and flop onto the bed. Natasha follows you and lays beside you, pushing you off to the side.

Natasha laughs. “I’ll be fine, I can just ask your mom. She gives the best hugs, I’ve heard. Good try, though.”

“It was worth a shot.”

“It was a pretty lousy shot,” fires back Natasha.

“Are you coming?” calls your dad. “We really have to talk.”

“He’s persistent, I’ll give him that. Reminds me of someone,” notes Natasha. You glare at her and roll off the bed dramatically.

“Yeah, I get it. I’m just like my dad. Very funny.” With that, you walk out of the room and greet your dad.

“What’s up? Something you wanted to talk about?” He puts a hand on the small of your back and guides you to the back door, where he keeps going to the barn. He doesn’t say a word until he opens the barn door.

“I believe you two know each other,” says your dad, gesturing to a person in the shadows.

“How are the wedding plans going?” he taunts. You recognize the voice from that terrible meeting. It’s Mr. Smith.

“This gentleman has been telling me all about your situation with Natasha. How she’s going to be deported very soon, and how this marriage to her is nothing more than a ploy to keep her in the country. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“Dad, why are you believing a stranger over me? I’ve told you that I love Natasha and she loves me. Nothing about this is fake.”

“Well that’s simply not the truth,” scoffs Mr. Smith. “And your father asked you to be here. He said there was something slightly off about the way things are going on around here. Just a few calls, and then he finds out everything he needs to know. The deportation, your job is on the line, the fact that not one person thought of the two of you as romantic partners.”

“Obviously we had to hide it. You don’t date your boss and not keep it a secret, for reasons I don’t need to explain.” The lie slips off your tongue easily. “And you can ask anyone in the office. Natasha and I spent more time with each other than with anybody else. At some point, all those late nights can’t be explained by new books coming in. No one’s that busy.”

“You go through with this, and we can’t secure your safety. Just admit to what you’re doing and we can figure out the best-case scenario for you. Don’t waste your position in the world for her. I can assure you, you can find someone better who’s not your boss and not-“

“Not a woman?” Your dad has the decency to look abashed at that. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but my homosexual tendencies aren’t going anywhere. And neither is Natasha. You can believe what you want to believe, but I’m marrying Natasha because it's what I want. She’s the one I’ve chosen to spend the rest of my life with, and you can process that by accusing us of lying to everyone I love, or you can accept the fact that someone loves me for who I am.”

“I find it hard to believe that Natasha is that person. Kiddo, she doesn't love you. At best she’s just using you. You’re a smart girl, so I don’t need to explain to you again how dire the consequences of, this can be.”

“I don’t need you to explain anything to me. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me to know that you don’t think anyone could marry me because they love me, but here we are. I thought you were trying to make things better between us, but I suppose that was fake too.”

You need to get out of this room as fast as possible. There’s nothing by danger in here. Danger and pain, which isn’t a combination you particularly enjoy.

Making up your mind, you shove past the two men in front of you and slam the door behind you, which is way more satisfying than it should be.

Immediately, you run into someone, stumbling, losing your balance, and landing ever so gracefully on the ground. Looming over you is your mother, who sees you and says, “There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you. I have a surprise for the brides to be.”

“Mom, you’ve already done enough, there’s no need for anything else,” you protest, knowing full well that it will get you pretty much nowhere. Your mother is nothing but stubborn, in the best way.

“Nonsense. If I can’t spoil my daughter on her wedding weekend, when can I possibly spoil you? Plus, I think you’ll like this surprise.” With that, she takes your hand and drags you off the ground, pulling you behind her.

Before you can enter through the porch door, your mom stops you and puts her hands on your shoulders. “Now, I know you don’t want to hear this, but from my experience, the best way to proceed in a situation like this is to just be yourself. There’s no need to be nervous at all, I’m sure she’ll love you.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask skeptically. “You aren’t making any sense.” She sighs and takes your hand, opening the door and pushing you in.

“It’s easier to show you.” Still confused, you dutifully let her guide you into the living room, where a woman you don’t recognize is sitting on the couch. She’s well dressed in an oversized brown corduroy jacket and matching pants, with chain jewelry and long blonde hair, half up in a clip. She looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t place from where. She stands and walks over towards you, looking you up and down. There’s something that reminds you of Natasha in the way she walks, the same confident and calculated walk.

The woman smiles and holds out a ringed hand for you to shake. “I’m Yelena. I’ve come to be at my sister’s wedding.” You stare at her for a moment, looking like an idiot, before you take her hand into your own. She’s wearing an array of rings, and her bracelets jingle as you introduce yourself to her.

It makes sense now that you thought she looked familiar. While you’ve never actually met her, or even seen a picture of her, she has the same air as Natasha, The killer smile and noticeable glint in her eye area a dead giveaway of her relation to her sister, and the idea that you can identify her simply due to her likeness in spirit to Natasha is a scary thought.

“Hi,” you finally respond, trying to regain your footing. “I’m Natasha’s fiancė.”

“Yes, I know who you are. Natasha has been telling me all about you for a while.” Yelena puts her hands on your shoulders and holds you away from her, looking you up and down. “I see why she chose you. From what I’ve heard you’re very much her type.”

“I am?” you ask warily. This is not what you were expecting when your mom said there was a surprise.

“Yes. You are very accomplished, I know that. Natasha has always been drawn to people that whom she can argue. That’s why she’s such a perfect sister for me.”

“What exactly has she told you about me?” You’re genuinely curious, especially if Natasha’s been talking about you for “a while” as Yelena said.

“Everything and nothing,” shrugs Yelena. “She says you’re a pain in her ass and you talk back too much, but she couldn’t get anything done without your help. You’re scared to stand up to people you think are smarter than you, but you do it anyway when they insult something you love, which takes courage. Even I’ll admit that. But most of all she talks about how all you want to do is guide other people to reach their dreams, and how that is your own dream. It’s quite a noble thing to do, isn’t it?”

“Not if it’s something I love,” you answer simply. “It’s not really a noble thing because it makes me happy beyond anything else.” That’s always been true for you, but when you say it a thought crosses your mind, unwelcome but true. Natasha makes you happy in the same way. Like it doesn’t matter that your dad doesn’t approve or there are a million ways for it to go wrong. All that matters is the story ahead of you, the pages yet to be written, and the mistakes that you made on the way to get there.

Before Yelena can answer, the front door opens and Natasha walks in. “Yelena? Сестра, is that you?” Natasha’s voice cracks at the end, and she doesn’t wait for an answer before she takes a few bounding steps and envelopes Yelena in a bear hug.

They don’t stop hugging for a long time. When they do, you see tears in both of their eyes. It doesn’t seem like a moment you want to be in the middle, so you excuse yourself politely.

“I’ll be right back, I just need to grab something in the room.” Of course, you don’t really have any intention of coming back soon, but you know Natasha won’t let you just leave.

“I’m coming with you,” says Natasha.

“No, you don’t have to, I'll find it on my own.” Natasha shakes her head defiantly and looks at Yelena, who shrugs and gestures to you. Natasha follows you down the hallway and fear sets in. Was it overstepping? While you were the one to make the decision to bring Yelena here, you did bring Natasha here. Family, as you know, isn’t something to mess

with, and it seems like you’ve done exactly that.

You have yet to get a real reaction out of Natasha, her face unreadable. That does nothing to calm the raging anxiety inside you, so you start talking, saying words that probably mean nothing, “I’m so sorry, I had no clue that they would be here for this. My mom has done some surprising things in the past, but nothing like this. Shit, Tasha, I’m so sorry, I-“

“Stop talking,” Natasha orders softly. “Stop talking before you make me do something I’ll regret.” She closes the door to your room, facing you fully.

“What?” Of their own accord, your eyes drift down to her lips.

“You brought me my family, something I haven’t been able to do on my own. You gave me a whole new family. You’ve saved my life. You think I’m mad at you?” With every declaration, she steps closer to you, slowly, like she’s approaching a scared animal.

“The things you’ve given me this weekend- -I can’t thank you enough. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“You don’t have to,” you whisper. “It’s nothing less than you’ve given me.” She’s even closer to you now, and you’re pretty sure you’re breathing her air now. You’ve never been this close to her without fighting. Your eyes glance down to her lips, lighting fast and hopefully unnoticed by Natasha.

Then she takes another half-step closer. And it makes your whole world tilt on its axis, overtaken by the presence of Natasha. You can’t be imagining this, not the way her head tilts ever so slightly to the side and her hand comes up to cup your face, so gently.

“Tell me to stop,” she urges. You don’t say a word. You don’t think twice about your silence, accepting whatever Natasha wants, because it’s what you want too. You’ve wanted this, with her, ever since these feelings came crashing down over you, at some undefined point this weekend.

Then she’s leaning in, and her lips touch yours in a hesitant kiss. You’re surprised to see that you don’t want it to be anything more than that. Natasha is fire, is passion, she always has been, but like this it's different. Impossible to control, unthinkable to stop.

You pull away from Natasha to just look at her. There’s a flush high on her cheeks that you want to memorize and be the cause of again.

“Girls, come out for dinner?” sing-songs your mom. Your family seems to have a special sense for when you’re having a moment with Natasha so they can interrupt it.

A second person shuffles outside the door and bangs on it loudly. “Hurry up. I’m hungry.” Natasha breaks apart from you with laughter, her head going into your neck.

“That would be Yelena.”

“Yeah, I figured. She has the same charm as you. It really shines through when you’re together,” you joke back.

The dinner passes with relative ease, with light conversations, and jokes bouncing back and forth between you. Your father chooses not to make an appearance, which just makes it all the easier.

Afterward, Natasha decides to stay up and talk with Yelena while you clean up in the kitchen and then go to sleep. Your mom graciously reminds you that you have a big day tomorrow and need sleep. You choose to ignore the insinuations about the wedding night.

When you climb into bed, somehow, you fall immediately to sleep, mind at ease. It’s the best night of sleep you’ve gotten in a long time. The only time you stir at all is when you feel Natasha slip into bed next to you, whispering goodnight.

The morning comes a lot faster than you want it to. Natasha isn’t there when you wake up, but there’s a note taped to the mirror that tells you she’s off getting ready. You guess you should probably be doing the same.

It seems like there’s no one else in the house, or at least you can’t find anyone. You assume your dad is keeping his distance still, and you don’t blame him. While you make coffee you get a text from your mom giving you a list of chores to do around the house like she did when you were a teenager. It fills you with a strong sense of nostalgia, one that you figured you would get today anyway, just not so early in the morning.

The wedding preparations go by with a blur, and time passes quicker than it ever has before, but at the same time, it feels like you’re waiting forever. You haven’t seen Natasha the whole day, and it’s driving you crazy. The chores pass in mindless busyness, but the moments of rest are almost unbearable. Your mom’s constant chatter fills the silence well, though, so you listen to her ramble about where the flowers are going to go and which guests can’t sit next to each other because of a petty fight. If you weren’t so distracted you would be much more interested and your mom would be a lot less forgiving the third time she has to tell you to stop staring off into space.

“This is a big day, for all of us. Are you sure you want to do this? We didn’t rush you into it too fast?” It’s almost comical, the idea that your mom was the one to rush this.

“No, mom. We did plenty of rushing on our own. If you hadn’t pushed us to get married here it probably would have been a courthouse wedding with someone we pulled with us after work. Really, I should be thanking you. This is way better than anything Natasha and I could have pulled together.”

“It would be a lot better if you had given us a little heads up before,” dismisses your mom with a wave of her hand. She continues stringing lights to the rafters of the barn while you hold the ladder underneath her.

“Come on, mom. Give yourself a little bit of credit, this is gorgeous. Who knew a barn could be so romantic?”

“I did. That’s why I suggested it.” You laugh at her bluntness, being used to it by now, and help her off the ladder. Before you can get another word in, she’s being whisked away to go help someone with something. Then, Grammy is taking your arm and leading you into the small room at the back of the barn. Your hair is brushed roughly, your makeup is applied by someone you don’t know, and the dress is shoved into your hands, the others leaving so you can change.

Grammy is the only one who comes back in after you announce you’re done changing. She takes one look at you and clasps her hands in front of her, the universal Grammy signal for something beyond words. You can count on your hands the number of times you’ve seen it.

“Oh, honey,” she gasps, “you look beautiful. I can see why that other beautiful bride fell in love with you.” There’s a characteristic gleam in her eyes.

Everything else passes without any drama, which is unsurprising for your family. In a short time, you’re at the back of the barn, surrounded by fairy lights and swinging ivy. It’s more than you ever dreamed of yourself, and definitely a lot more than you imagined in a barn, of all places. Your hands are shaking, the dress you're wearing is heavy, and your hair is uncomfortable with styling products.

The music starts.

The lights dim.

Grammy gives you a huge grin and two thumbs up from her spot in the front row.

And Natasha starts to walk down the aisle.

If you thought Natasha was beautiful the first time she tried on the dress, she’s nothing short of angelic now. You can’t ignore the hope in your heart, or the butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t remember why you ever tried. It’s so much easier like this, to accept your feeling for her out front, as they come. There’s never been an escape from the overwhelming atmosphere that is all of Natasha Romanoff, and fighting it was probably just making it harder. She’s inescapable at the worst of times, and immensely present at the best of times.

In her hair are small white flowers that you recognize from your parents' front yard, years of growing up with them in front of your house making them recognizable from anywhere. You’re elated to see that her hair is down around her shoulders, burning red strands a contrast to all the other white colors she’s wearing. With the alterations, the dress fits her perfectly. She looks like royalty. Angelic. Perfect in every conceivable way.

And she’s about to be yours. Maybe it won’t last, but maybe it will. Maybe the two of you can work this out, and find some way to keep the momentum you've started building on this trip moving forwards.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the marriage of these two people.” The ceremony starts, and to be honest, you don’t listen to anything the officiator says. That’s not the important part. You only start listening when he says our name.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, until death do you part?”

Your answer comes off your tongue before you have to think. “I do.”

“Natasha Romanoff, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, until death do you part?” Natasha looks at you, then at the officiator. There’s an edge to the way she’s glancing, something tinged with a little bit of hysteria. You don’t like that look on her.

“Natasha?” You look into her eyes again, hoping to show her that there’s no need to be nervous.

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry, I thought I could pretend, but I can’t. You don’t deserve this.” She turns to the rest of the crowd, at your family, and at hers. “None of you deserve this.“

“What are you doing?” you ask, hating the broken tone in your voice.

“None of this is real. This marriage, this wedding, this isn’t real,” she confesses. “It’s basically a green card. I’m so sorry to put you all through this, so I won’t put you through hearing the whole story, but I can’t do this to you. I really thought I could, but it’s so much harder than I thought it would be. You all welcomed me and I lied and lied and lied.” Natasha takes a single unsteady step away from you and towards Mr. Smith.

“You can take me to New York, I’ll accept the consequences. Don’t put anything on the rest of them, though. They just did what I asked them to do. I’ll get my things and go.” Her voice is void of any emotion, and she walks out of the church, Mr. Smith following behind.

“What just happened?” asks your mom, tears in her voice. You don’t want to see the tears you know are on her face. “Why did Natasha leave?”

“This is very unlike her,” agrees Yelena. “I don’t know why she’s doing this.” You don’t have it in you to explain everything that’s going on to them. Slowly, you turn to your dad.

“Are you happy now?” you ask, pained. “You got what you wanted. She’s gone, and now you’ve hurt everyone else here.” He stands up and starts to speak. You cut him off before he gets the chance to try and justify. “Don’t.”

You try to follow Natasha out the door, try to push past the stares, but you end up stuck in that room for ten more minutes, calming other people more than you’re calming yourself. Any hope of catching up with her is gone.

When you finally get an excuse to leave, you pull up your skirt and try to get out of there as fast as you can. You lose your shoes on the way running to the house and almost pull the door off of its hinges when you rip it open. It’s a miracle you don’t fall when you’re running through the halls, and even more of a miracle when you don’t start sobbing immediately upon seeing Scarlett the dino laying on top of your bed and her wedding dress laying on the center pillow.

You stand there in the middle of the room for a long time, staring at the lack of Natasha in the room. It must be a while because the next thing you know there’s a weathered hand on your shoulder and someone hugging you.

Your mom is the one hugging, effectively giving you a shoulder to cry on while Grammy tries her best to find the right words.

“I really liked her, mom,” you admit, hiding in her embrace.

“I know you did, sweetie. I know.”

“If you liked her that much, then why are you letting her go?”

“Mom!” reprimands your dad, who’s standing in the doorway

“No, you got us into this mess in the first place. You don’t get a say in this. I’ll have to deal with you later,” snaps Grammy. She turns back to you. “If you love her, fight for her. Love isn’t something you give up that easily. I know you don’t want to go through it again, don’t want to go through the pain, but there’s so much left between you. Don’t let that go to waste.”

“What do you want me to do? She’s gone!” you say, gesturing wildly around you.

“You’re right,” says Grammy solemnly. “There’s no way we could possibly find any way to follow her to one of the biggest cities in the world. I guess we should accept defeat now.“

“There’s someone I know who can get you in the air,” adds Wanda. You look up and see a whole group of people in the room, apparently rooting for you and Natasha.

“I knew I liked you,” says Grammy, hitting her on the shoulder. “You should go to New York, that’s where all the girls are, apparently. Well, they might bail at your wedding, but the rest will be fun.” You glare at her and Wanda beams.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go.” Someone grabs your hand, muscling people out of the way. You don’t even know who it is until you pass the doorway, and then you still don’t know the name of the person.

You’re followed out by most of the people in the room, who have started whispering and cheering you on. The airport isn’t too far away, and you’re followed by a whole parade of boats. Once the plane is loaded with all available seats, meaning you and Yelena only, the same group of people screaming in unison for you to go get your girl. It’s nice, to see that they all actually do support you. Even your father was there, although he wasn’t quite as loud as the rest of them until Grammy hit him upside the head and told him to.

You make it to New York, hopefully not too far behind Natasha. It only occurs to you at the airport that, in the whole city, you have no idea where she is. She could be at her apartment, at the park, or at work.

“Shit, Yelena, do you know where Natasha is?” Yelena raises an eyebrow at you, an expression you’ve seen countless times with her sister. She sighs and taps a few buttons on her phone

“She’s at work.”

“I’m not going to ask how you know that, I’m just going to thank you.”

“I wouldn’t tell you even if you did ask,” replies Yelena. “Now go find your future wife.”

You do exactly that, even though it seems like everything is fighting against you. It’s impossible to hail a cab, first, and then you realize that you don’t have your work badge with you. After what feels like an eternity of waiting at the door for someone to walk out, you finally make it into the building. The elevator takes forever, and the hallway to her office is busy like it never had been before.

And there she is. Standing tall, in ridiculously high heels, a cardboard box in her hands. Even in the circumstances, your heart jumps at the sight of her, apparently unaware of the stakes.

Then, Natasha looks up and sees you, mouthing your name, her brow furrowed. You can’t help your reaction. You run to her, ignoring the stares of everyone else.

“Natasha, I need to talk to you. Don’t-“you hold up a hand”-say anything until I’m done. There are some things I need to say.”

“Is that Yelena here?” Natasha asks, surprise written all over her face.

“That’s what you’re surprised about? I just flew across the United States to convince you to marry me, and you’re asking about your sister?”

“Well, I mean,” she starts, then pauses to take a break. “Did you say you want to marry me?”

You sigh and throw your hands up. “This is why I told you not to interrupt. Look, there are a lot of things I could tell you. I could say that your laughter is the sound that makes me the happiest above everything else. Your smile, though rare, gets me out of bed in the morning, even when it’s aimed at torturing me. When I’m not with you, I see a flash of red hair and go a little bit crazy thinking it’s you. You are my north, east, south, and my west. You guide me home because you are my home.” At this point, pretty much everyone is looking at you, and Yelena is videoing on her phone, a grin on her face.

“So, Natasha Romanoff, will you marry me so that you can date me?”

A moment passes. A terrible, long-lasting moment where you’re sure that she’s going to say no. The truth that you’re going to be alone forever, pining after her seems imminent. Fear that you’ll use your job is a crushing weight, only for a tortured second.

But it passes and you make it back to the reality where Natasha is standing in front of you, tears in her eyes, hand covering her mouth.

And then she’s nodding her head furiously and jumping into your arms. “I would love to.”

[redrobin-detective]

sleep like the dead

“And now, I, Technus, shall finally have my electronic vengeance on you, ghost child and conquer this puny human world!” Technus shrieked, exiting the portal in a suitably dramatic fashion. The various weapons around the lab shook and trembled from his power and static from his core crackled, raring for a fight with his favorite enemy. Only the Phantom didn’t appear.

“Hmm, maybe I wasn’t loud enough,” Technus mused before starting up again. “Pathetic Phantom! You can only hope your miniscule half human strength will be enough to take on my squiggling mess of the tangled wires of terror!” He threw back his head and cackled loudly, waiting for his nemesis to show and the battle to begin. His laughter petered out after a bit and the lab became silent once more.

“Well, now he’s just being rude,” Technus fumed, floating up through the ceiling. “Don’t ignore my threats, child. I know you’re here, I can feel your cold core.” He stopped once he reached the ghost boy’s human lair, hovering a few feet from the bed where his rival was sprawled out, sound asleep.

“Come ghost boy, it’s time for fisticuffs! I have some new moves and some great catchphrases I’m ready to try out on you!” The technology ghost exclaimed in excitement, miming some punches. Phantom didn’t answer, just kept laying there barely moving save for his soft, shallow breaths. Technus watched as his breath fogged with each exhale, his core’s ghost sense but it still didn’t awaken him. “Child? Have you expired?”

He leaned forward and gently poked the boy’s cheek. It was squishy but firm unlike a ghost’s exterior and he could feel the dense bone underneath. Phantom didn’t so much as twitch. Technus drew back his hand, unsure of what to do. He’d surprised the child while he was in bed before but he always woke up and they fell into the usual routine. But now he’d changed the script and if there was something ghosts didn’t like, it was change. He flew back down to the portal and sped into the Ghost Zone at top speed, searching for someone who would be able to help him understand. 

“Wow, baby pop whooped your butt that fast? Either he’s getting better or you’re getting more pathetic, my bet is the latter,” Ember teased as she strummed to herself from a floating rock near her lair.

“The ghost child won’t wake up and fight,” Technus said in a rush. “I went to the human world but no one answered my challenge. I went to his human lair and he was just lying on his bed thing and he wouldn’t move, even when I touched him.”

“That’s not like him, he’s usually more hopped up and ready to fight than a groupie on coke,” Ember frowned, setting aside her guitar. “Well come on, sparky, lets go check the kid out.” 

They developed something of an entourage making their way back to the human portal. A few of the locals had heard that the infamous half ghost child was behaving differently and well, curiosity didn’t stop when the cat was killed. Skulker chuckled menacingly under his breath, Youngblood bounced around the adults. Johnny and Kitty had been going to the real world anyway and decided to tag along. 

“Were his folks or Jazz home?" Johnny asked, riding his cycle slow enough to keep pace with the group. 

“Who?” Technus questioned, “er no, the annoying children always with him were not around for once.”

“Annoying yes but they don’t live- uh occupy the same lair as the brat,” Johnny explained. As a younger ghost who’d held onto his humanity more than some, he had a better grasp of human culture. “His parents, the crazy ghost hunters in the blue and orange jumpsuits. Or his sister, Jazz. She has red hair and is kind of a know it all. They’re his family, they live with him.”

“Oh those weirdos,” Youngblood said wrinkling his nose. “Always loud and shouting about ripping apart ghosts. They’re not even good hunters.”

“Obviously, they haven’t noticed they got a ghost living with ‘em,” Ember added with an eyeroll.

“It’s a very stressful situation, Danny was worried about what they’d do if they found out,” Kitty frowned before sticking her tongue out at Johnny. “Danny’s a good guy, at least he talked to me about things that mattered.”

“Good target practice, you mean,” Skulker declared as they entered through the portal. Instinctively they all looked up to where the ghost boy’s core was humming but sensed no movement. “Alright, I will admit that is weird. Let’s see what the whelp’s up to.”

It was a bit cramped, the five of them crammed into the small room especially when they were keeping their distance from the room’s only living occupant. He had not moved since Technus had last been in here. At their entrance, his breath fogged again and he shivered for a second before settling back down. 

“Well, he’s alive at least,” Johnny shrugged before leaning in close to examine him. “Kid looks wiped though.” He picked up the boy’s bony wrist which had been dangling off the bed, his fingers brushing the floor and held it up before dropping it. His knuckles rapped against the ground but he didn’t stir.

“Johnny, leave him alone, he’s trying to sleep,” Kitty hissed, yanking her boyfriend back by his ear. 

“Come on, I’m not doing anything bad,” Johnny defended. “But, come on, how often are we gonna get a chance like this?”

“Hmm is human sleep that interesting that the ghost child would ignore all of us?” Technus asked, floating over and laying himself down on the bed. He laid there on the bed next to the boy for a few moments. “I do not believe I’m doing this correctly.”

“Nah you gotta close your eyes and go off to dreamland,” Youngblood said, grabbing a sock off the floor and then some papers from the desk and began stacking them on the half ghost’s head. The boy still didn’t react in the slightest. 

“Is dreamland close? Another pocket dimension like the Zone?” Technus, ever the scientist, asked curiously.

“No, you idiot,” Ember sighed before tentatively reaching out and laying a hand on Phantom’s chest. “Yow, man that’s weird.”

“What?” Skulker asked, having been mostly content to watch until now. Youngblood had now piled several more items on the ghost boy’s head but he slept on, unawares.

“It’s just,” she scrunched up her face as she looked for the words, “I know what ghost cores feel like and I’ve been around enough humans to know the signs of life but he’s got both at once. His core flares and fades opposite his heart beat. It shouldn’t work but it does, somehow.”

“He is a most curious specimen, I rarely see Plasmius in his human skin so it’s hard to compare,” Skulker commented. “Of course Plasmius I can understand. He acts like a ghost, thinks like one. But the child, he’s certainly a ghost but he’s also decidingly... human.”

“That’s why we should be leaving him alone,” Kitty frowned, plucking Youngblood out of the air and moving him away from the sleeping teen. “If Danny isn’t waking up with all of us causing a racket then clearly he’s exhausted. We bother him enough, let him rest and fight him some other time.”

“But I wanted to fight now,” Technus whined, rolling over on the bed and resting one arm over the ghost boy’s body. “The Phantom surely wants to hear my latest monologue on how I’m the supreme ruler of everything electronic and beeping.”

“I know I don’t,” Youngblood shrugged.

“Me neither,” Johnny scoffed.

“Or me,” Ember muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

“Just let him rest,” Kitty said shooing the others back and gently brushing some of the kid’s hair out of his face revealing sallow features and dark marks under his eyes. “It’s hard enough being human much less a ghost on top of that; between fighting us and trying to have a normal life I bet he hardly gets any sleep. The least we can do is give him a break before he breaks.”

“I suppose it’s not sporting to kill a sleeping prey,” Skulker pouted. “And it’ll make his defeat more meaningful if he’s well rested and not uh,” he gestured to the Phantom’s general state of disarray. 

“Better appreciate it,” Ember sulked for a second, kicking away some pajama pants from the floor. “His stupid human life. I’d give anything to sleep again, just for a minute.” 

The ghosts sat in quiet contemplation for a moment, the dead looking enviously and curiously on the silent, sleeping boy, on a world they could only watch but not engage in. The moment was shattered by the front door slamming open.

“DANNO WE’RE HOME AND WE BROUGHT CHINESE!” Resonated through the house. Startled awake, the ghost child leapt out of the bed and hovered about a foot above it for a moment before sinking back down.

“Darn it Dad, I was napping,” Danny grumbled before he opened his eyes and saw several of his ghostly enemies standing awkwardly in his room. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Technus lounging on his bed. “What the-”

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Technus tittered happily, leaning into his personal space. “Ready to hear my spiel?” The temperature in the room dropped rapidly as his core ramped up and spilled over into his eyes which were no doubt glowing a fierce green.

“Get out of my room!” He shouted, reaching over to grab his emergency under the bed thermos but a sock falling from his hair into his face distracted him.

“Hey, just stopping by but we were just on our way out, sleep well, Danny sweetie!” Kitty said dragging the whole group through the floor. His core thrummed in agitation until he felt them cross the portal into the Ghost Zone. He sat there for a moment, shaking and panting from the adrenaline rush before he decided he really didn’t want to know. He flopped back onto the bed and reached over on his nightstand for the bottle Jazz had given him the other day.

“The heck is in this stupid sleep aid?”

[wizkiddx]

stop caring

yooo, so this is actually taken out of one of the sort of I guess series-esque things I’ve written, but it kinda just got shit at the end so I've given up and just wanted to post this instead. So sorry if some of the backstory isn't that clear or anything

tomhollandxfamous!reader

Summary: after your break up you bump into tom at a charity event and when shit hits the fan personally for you, someone who understands you is really what you need (angsty!!! maybe a bit of fluff too?)

TW: panic/anxiety attacks + mentions of assault

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3 months. 3 months you’d managed to avoid the boy that had given you the most joy in the previous years. 3 months without your best friend; of even when you’re with company feeling like a part of you was just absent. 

And you had been thriving. Well… that’s what everyone thought. That’s what you tried to portray, because no matter how ‘famous’ or ‘successful’ people perceived you to be - ultimately you were like anyone else. Making your insta pop off after the breakup. And so to the outside world, through the very very small lense of social media life was great. Parties, friends, work. 

You were a woman in demand - in all senses of the word. 

But of course, as is the 21st century world, it was a lie. Instagram showed only snapshots of what can be very long 24 hours in a day. Naturally, a select few obviously knew - your best friend, Y/f/n being one of them. Yet still you were missing that one support, that one person who would drag you back to reality whenever you got too much into your own head. It actually rather annoyed you, how dependent you had got on him, in every part of your life. 

And you really hadn’t expected to see him here today. You’d had your assistant check the guest list, he wasn’t on it. While getting ready, you had avoided all the products that reminded you of him; that soft nude lipstick he loved you in so much; your favourite (exfavourite) earrings. Had you known it, you would have worn these. Just because you knew it would get on his nerves a little bit. Nevertheless here you were, perhaps a little underdressed for the charity dinner in a dress you’d already worn before (because apparently that was a sin in the world of Hollywood). You couldn’t pin point from when, but it was simple yet elegant if you did say so yourself. A dark blue satin dress, that sat off your shoulders in a Bardot style; hugged your waist to accentuate your curves; then flowed outwards down to the floor with a slit up your right leg. It was simple compared to the sequin studded, diamanté jewelled dresses the rest of the women seemed to sport but it made you feel comfortable. 

Besides, that’s what you needed today. This was the first time after the breakup you’d attended a public event without your best friend-turned-assistant-turned-absolute-life-saver. Y/f/n had been the greatest with you all through your life but especially recently, she deserved the break to go back home and see her family. It was a pretty decent excuse too, her cousins wedding, so you were in absolutely no place to complain.

Evidently it just HAD to be this event then, while you were flying solo, that you’d be faced with…well with his face. His fucking gorgeous, perfect and oh so sweet face. 

Just seeing him, just seeing Tom fucking Holland, had the most intense burst of adrenaline course through your veins as you desperately scanned the rest of the room. Looking for an out, an excuse, someone to latch onto for the rest of the night. A distraction even. 

Never one to admit it openly, but really you knew your coping mechanism of the past months had been to sleep with who you wanted. Because the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else right? You knew it was stupid too. Not because of slut shaming or anything ( we aint got no outdated views here), but simply it wasn’t you. It wasn’t a good idea for you. It didn’t fit. 

Tom hadn’t seen you yet, so if you latched onto someone you’d likely be in the clear. So obviously, when your frantic glances landed upon Joe Keery, you literally sighed in relief. Joe was great, stranger things was a bit of a guilty pleasure for you - especially when you were in your trailer and bored. Just due to your line of work, you’d met a couple times, he seemed like decent crack and to you knowledge was single. 

Unsurprisingly then, you almost marched over to Joe, ignoring the slightly shaky feeling in your leg as your hearing seemed to focus completely on the sound of Tom’s bright laugh. 

It was your choice too. You’d chosen to end things. It was on you. Well really, both parties were equally guilty. Tom was the one who had been too tired and highly strung and exhausted to put effort into the relationship. Stupidly though, you were too in love to realise for so long, in doing so draining yourself in the process. The constant flying cross country to see him, when he couldn’t ever return the favour because he was too busy. It was chipping away at you, even if you didn’t notice. It took an intervention by your manager Davey and Y/f/n for you to see things for what they were. To see that Tom didn’t care as much as he used to. 

He tried to fight for it, of course Tom did, because he also truly and deeply loved you. Nonetheless though, it was too late. And that was it. You closed that book and returned it to the library. Something your mind occasionally drifts back to  and you think ‘huh that was a good read’ - yet that is the only space it occupies in your mind. 

OR that’s how it should be. Not you yesterday, comparing everything your date did to Tom and deciding everything was worse. Not you today, seeing him and nearly being floored by the way the suit was tailored to his body oh so exquisitely. Not you now, hearing his bubbly laughter and having to fight your muscles from taking you back into his arms. 

In short, you were highly strung and pining over a boy you’d killed your chance of happiness with. 

Not to blow your own horn, you knew Joe wouldn’t be against having your company for the evening. After all, you were a young, beautiful and upcoming actor. You were ,at the very least, self aware. And so for a good few hours you almost forgot about Toms presence, spending the time before the speeches sharing a ridiculously overpriced bottle of wine (or two) with him. He was funny. He made you laugh, even if he was pushing the limits occasionally and teetering just on the right side of socially acceptable. It was risky and in that moment, with the alcohol in your system, it made him seem more and more of an attractive shag. 

By the time the speeches started you were both overly giggly and had to keep shushing each other as the presenter called for quiet. Inherently, you knew exactly the location of Thomas - who he was sat around; the main he’d had at dinner; the brand of beer he’d been ordering.But that was subconscious. You were here with Joe. 

Under your voices, whilst getting some disapproving looks from the older, more mature, members of your table you and Joe sat through the first boring speech whispering jokes under your breath - making each other clamp their mouth shut to avoid bursting out laughing. Though tipsy, you were very aware of Joe inching closer and closer, while his hand was casually brushing yours or your shoulder or waist more often. You knew this was low, being so blatant in front of Tom. To be quite frank though, should you care? And did he care?

The answer in your head at least, was an almost certain no to both. 

One speech merged into another spent giggling away until Joe did something he didn’t mean. Heck he didn’t even know. His jesting quickly had toppled completely over into absolutely not category. Your brain felt like it was swimming as the name you’d avoided after that incident , almost ten years ago. The flashbacks came thick and fast. You an innocent young actor wanting to make a way in the industry. And him. A powerful, ridiculously important slightly overweight 50 year old with bad breath. That room in the corner of his hotel that you were completely lost in. 

You were going to be sick. 

Somewhere, distantly, you heard Joe saying something… asking you? Asking you if your were good? It was drowned out by a roar in your ears, you jerkily nodded your head. You knew your breathing was jilted, shaky and shallow. You knew your heart was exploding. It actually felt like a heart attack, the way it seemed to be beating as though it were going to break out of your chest. This time you really really needed an out. 

So without any words, leaving a bemused Joe, your chair screeched on the floor as you stood up, garnering the attention of the whole room. The heads literally swivelled to stare at you, judgement clearly there as you frantically half ran to the back of the room, pleading if your head fro the toilet to be nearby. You needed to be away from everyone and safe. 

Thankfully your escaped the room and the beady eyes, locating the bathroom where you threw a cubicle open, shakily locking it before collapsing into the wall in floods of tears, harsh sobs racking your frame as you clutched your hands to your knees and rocked slightly back and fourth. You dress being a full length ballgown was spilling out into the the nearby cubicles and under the door, but presumably you were alone in the loo - not hearing any other signs of life beyond your own sobs. 

This always happened when you had your anxiety attacks. It was like clockwork. Zone out, stop hearing, loose control of breathing, heart starts pounding, make a quick escape to a toilet, cry and then…

Well back before Tom, it had been to throw up. That was the only thing you’d ever found to ground you enough to get your body backorder your own conscious control. It was like a wave of relief after, like the drowning feeling in your lungs had just evaporated away. But the Tom happened. The first time he’d seen you panic he hadn’t a clue what to do either. SO he had just sat with you, not wanting you to be alone in that state and waited. That panic though, had lasted so long that you’d almost made yourself pass out from the hyperventilating. When that had happened, Tom had gone into emergency mode. He had been scared to touch you, in case that made you worse, but when he saw your body going limp he didn’t have a choice. He’d collected you into his arms, with your head against his chest. Being this close to calling an ambulance, the relief Tom felt when your breathing got more and more regular was unparalleled. 

Together, when he had you lying in his bed (recovered, if mortified and exhausted) was when you realised that you hadn’t been sick. And that was because of him. You’d grounded yourself on his heartbeat and breathing, listening to it and making yours sync up. Thats what had saved you that evening. 

Now however, Tom was gone. This was the first panic attack you’d had since he’d been gone. Of course while you were together you were rarely in the same place, even so you’d phone him. But not now. 

This all led to you sat clutching your knees as your mascara dripped down your cheeks as you had to fight to get enough oxygen into your body. You didn’t want to get into that vicious cycle of making yourself ill again. It really hadn’t been healthy.

Who knows how long you were sat there sobbing before you heard the door open and in response you clamped a hand to your mouth trying to stay silent. This irrational fear overcame you as you sat stock still, fearing the footsteps on the marble floor of the fancy function venue. Even the toilets were pretty posh. 

“Y/n?…. It’s-it’s Tom.” Oh. My. Fucking. God. That was all that was going through your brain as you bit you lip - presumably painfully, yet you didn’t really feel pain in your current state.  “Look I saw you leave and I know your on your own tonight… I-I couldn’t leave you on your own if your… well you know.” Everything was going so so fast in your brain, that it actually scared you into stopping crying, so much so you felt your hand flop back down to your side. “…I was waiting outside because I didn’t want to errr you know… but you’ve been 20 minutes so I need to know your good…..okay?”

The boy was too fucking good. And stubborn… he was too stubborn and you knew he wasn’t going to give in. It was also fairly evident that he knew you in here - there was no pretending you didn’t exist. 

“Y/n? Come on you gotta let me know.”

“I’m fine. You-you go.” Only when you spoke was it evident to yourself just how not-okay you really were. Tom just chuckled and spoke again.

“How long have you known me for? That’s just not going to happen is it.” You already knew this, but something about the way he said it made you realise a sad laugh, momentarily making you feel a bit more in control. He seemed to like that response, you heard him bend down and then saw the bottom of his tux as he sat down leaning against your cubicle door.

“Is …is this your first one… since?  You both know what he was talking about. Since you broke up. 

“Uhmm I-“ You swallowed down a fresh rise of nausea, somewhat determined to not throw up when you ex is barely a metre from you. “Yeh I suppose.” In didn’t seem a revelation to Tom, yet he still hummed lowly in response as the room drifted back to silence. 

“You… you wanna try to breath with me?… You don’t have to open the door just…”

Croaking a please in response because this feeling was really blood awful and you wanted it to end, Tom started exaggerating his breathes, as you shakily and eventually managed to start to time it with his. Without thinking, when Tom’s palm snuck half under the door you immediately grabbed and squeezed it - the contact helping to synchronise your body with his. 

It should be an alien feeling after your time apart. But no it felt oh so natural and so very right. 

Once you’d collected yourself and realised how bloody stupid this whole situation was  you withdrew your hand back, loosing the warmth as you shook your head in disapproval of yourself. So very fucking stupid. He was silent for a bit, letting you think things through whilst still sat outside your cubicle. 

“You good now?” You hummed in agreement and you felt Tom’s head fall against the door, looking up to the ceiling. “Want me to go?”

“If you want to” That was met with silence, but a very telling lack of movement that spoke a thousand words.

“You should get out of here… you wanna avoid the trigger again and I mean I know you’re exhausted.” The boy had researched panic disorder and attacks when he found out you suffered with it - he probably knew more of the psychology of it than you, whilst never having any first hand experience of it.  Annoyingly he was right, as per, after attacks you always always slept for hours - it was just a draining process. “I’ll get you a car if you want?…. I’d like to make sure you get back okay if you don’t mind.” With only your cold and empty residual feeling left, his words still managed to ignite a spark of warmth in your chest. 

“I’m not going to ruin your evening Tom.” You tried to refuse even if it was very very forced and very very hopeful he wouldn’t give in. 

“I was having a crappy evening. Sitting in the ladies toilet talking to my ex through a toilet door has actually been the highlight.”He chuckled playfully in a self pitying way, somehow again making you giggle. And so he had you standing on slightly unsteady feet, your black heels held in one hand because no wasn’t the time to put yourself through teetering around on pin needles. The shuffling outside the door meant Tom stood up too - before you unlocked the door and opened it. 

Prior to seeing Tom your eyes locked on the sight of your reflection, in the mirrors above the sinks opposite you. Perhaps the only way to describe it… it was a sight. The shock being in the juxtaposition between the elegant dress, which even having been crumpled on a bathroom floor had somehow managed to survive and still look near the off-the-hanger; but your face? Oh that was a shit show. You’d cried your makeup off almost completely, leaving your face blotchy and shining as well as the ever so telling smudged mascara under your bottom lash line. 

You had to laugh or you’d just start to cry.

“Don’t worry I’ve seen you much worse.” You saw in the reflection as Tom leaned in and whispered in your ear, making your eyes roll and head shake as you looked from him back to you. 

“I look like a paps dream.” Without instruction, Tom bolted into a nearby cubicle, wrapping layers of toilet roll round his hand before offering it to you as a makeshift wipe.

“This is the glamour of Hollywood don’t you know? Wiping your face with bog roll”Thankfully taking it, you offered Tom a thankful smile as he stepped back, giving you space as he leant against another cubicle pillar. Once you finished up blotting your face, Tom had already shrugged off his jacket walking toward you as he offered it out. Tilting your head to the side in a questioning manner Tom just shrugged, saying it’d help avoid the paparazzi just in case. In reality you weren’t so sure, but anyhow you still appreciated the gesture and draped it round your shoulders with a muttering of thanks. 

At this point his phone pinged, the car was outside, so without any words exchanged he led you to the door, checked the hallway was clearly before guided you back to the exit. There didn’t appear to be anybody lurking around, which you were oh so thankful for as you almost threw yourself in to the safety of the blacked out car. Tom followed and you both, almost comically as if scripted, released a sigh in unison as you melted into the seats. That had you chuckling dryly as you sat in silence. 

“You know we can’t move till you say where you’re staying?” Teasing you, Tom shot you that ever mischievous grin that made the blood rush through your skin. After you’d told the driver, the car pulled swiftly out the laibi.

“Did he…did he say something?” Tom’s demeanour had steeled up and you looked questioningly up at him. “Joe… you looked…close.”

“Oh”. You were taken aback. You should have seen this coming to be fair, him asking for the trigger this evening - and yet you were more shocked at his jealousy. How he looked pained to mention Joe by name. “Um no… well sort of…it was a joke. He didn’t mean it but it er…it took me back.” Tom knew your history, he knew what happened all those years ago and he nodded slowly , keeping his eyeline straight ahead. 

“He’s a dick.”

“No he’s not…. He- he was sweet enough . It was all me.”

“What?”

“I pushed myself on him. I-I saw you… I was spooked.” Tom left it to drift back to silence. He had a lot of thinking to do too. 

He’d obviously kept up to date with you. Call it a professional interest. That was the problem being in love with someone when you weren’t allowed to be. But it hurt like hell, especially when he heard what you were doing. Because he knew this wasn’t you. He knew you sleeping around wasn’t going to help you recover - in fact he thought (and quite correctly) it was the opposite. That long term it’d only cause you more and more pain. 

“You know, you don’t have to do this?… I-I know it isn’t you. I’m not insulting or anything I’m… I’m just worried.” You knew he was being truthful . And infuriatingly he was right. Which only made it even more annoying. 

“Why do you care though?” Looking out the window that was all you could think to say. That was your subconscious talking as you didn’t really want the answer. Or you desperately did but you knew it’d be hard to get over. 

“Y/n” He sighed, making you look across at him “I’ve not stopped caring… I’ll never stop caring.”

Wasn’t that just a knife to the heart. You held your breath momentarily, not knowing what to think (nervermind say) in response to that. Everything in that car seemed to freeze, Tom’s eyes piercing the deepest and darkest parts of your mind as he stared at you. You both really weren’t over it. You were both hurting. You missed each other.

And you were about to dive in all over again. 

But then the indicator ticked on. The car pulled to a stop. The ignition switched off by the driver. You were at your hotel. The journeys end - quite literally. 

Tom felt it too. He knew if ever there was a chance, however rogue and unlikely, of you two working things out it was within this journey. And he’d failed.

“I-uh…I-this is me” Stammering through, distracted by the way Tom’s eyes shone with disappointment. 

‘Yeh - yeh it is I guess.”

“Well er… thanks for, well you know… for saving me. You er-you really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to”

“Yeh well er thanks…. And er-Oh! Your jacket” You realised, already tugging the tailored suit jacket from your shoulders. 

“No no it’s really okay. I have loads anyway.” See?In Hollywood you really weren’t allowed to wear the same thing twice. 

“Oh-okay. Well er….I’ll see you around I guess?”

“Can I walk you to your room, just to-check no one bothers you?” Tom was trying. Desperately trying. He could feel you slipping through his fingers again, this time he wanted to put up more of a fight. You shook your head thought, a sad smile gracing your lips. 

“I’d say yes but I think I know where that’d end up…. And I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Defeatedly nodding, Tom just smiled in a tight-lipped fashion, equally as sadly at you. 

“I’ll errr I’ll see you around.” While gathering yourself and preparing to exit the car, your hand on the door handle. Tom responded with a ‘yeh’ but before you left you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before whispering under your breath..

“Thankyou Tom.”

part 2 ish of sorts --> link

[homestucky]

tw for pretty heavy discussion of diet, body image, weight, eating disorders etc. and emetophobia

so i grew up overweight. ive been overweight my whole life pretty much, with the exception of maybe 2 years when i was around 19 where i was a little lighter.

im a practical person. im a reasonable person. i grew up a tomboy. i dont like shallowness. i had minimal interest in sex and relationships. i was never rejected for my appearance. looking conventionally attractive has no reason to be a high priority for me

but still

i am completely insane.

there is no other way i can say it concisely. and i suspect that if you did not grow up overweight, perhaps particularly as an overweight girl/afab person, there are some things you just cant understand, because how would you even know?

so yeah, insane. like, obsessive. deluded. unable to fully comprehend reality. i cant tell what i look like most of the time. from the age of about 7 i fantasised daily about being skinny. fantasies about shedding my outer layers and showing everyone. and i wasnt even usually someone who wanted to impress or appease boys or ‘cool’ people. i honestly am not that motivated by what people think of me. yet my goal was always - figure out how to lose weight.

any eyelash i wished on, any 11:11, it was that. i thought about it every day.

and there was honestly no reason for it. it felt like life or death sometimes. i TRIED to have eating disorders. it feels so shameful to admit - i tried and failed. its so easy to imagine how funny that might be to some (mean) people. if i dont eat regularly, i literally get faint in a way that impacts my functioning VERY quickly, and other people can see. my gag reflex does NOT work. and trust me, i have tried. for hours, once. but I cant even do that right. id binge but i couldnt purge. my body would not let me give the food up.

‘i tried to be anorexic but i got too hungry’, ‘i tried to be bulimic but i couldnt purge so i just binged’ sound like sick jokes, like things fatphobic people would say to mock people they think dont try hard enough, because overweight people are lazy.

heres the thing. its good that i wasnt able to develop these disorders. of course it is. they are terrible things and i do not take them lightly. so im glad. im lucky that my body didnt let me. but that didnt stop me from feeling like a failure, feeling frantic and like at least if i could do this people would be sympathetic, bcaus its evidence that i was TRYING, even if it was in a bad way.

the feelings i had about myself and still have...

it impacts everything. its such a massive part of my identity. it stopped me from playing, climbing, doing sports. it stopped me from playing about with style and clothing because trying things on in changing rooms, looking at myself in the mirror, made me so anxious that i would feel physically ill.

and most batshit of all, it made me truly believe that i was a joke. that any room i walked into, people would pity me or be amused by me just at a glance. that i was always viewed by everyone else as just slghtly less human. that if someone was gonna be mocked id be first.

that if i ever did anything silly or made a mistake, it would be made 100x worse by my body - like if i said something awkward, or dressed bad, or came in to class late, or fell over, it wasnt something i could just brush off. because i was already a joke, so this would just add to it. if you are skinny and you get a question wrong in class, thats fine somehow, but if youre chubby and you do the same, you are slotted into the role of ‘stupid *and* fat person’ because everybody knows that stereotype so thats just who you are.

its wack that it doesnt just impact my confidence with sports, or clothing, or people finding me attractive, but literally EVERYTHING.

it feels like as long as youre fat, ANYTHING you do could potentially have a laugh track put over it. falling, crying, laughing, dancing, getting hit by a car, it doesnt matter.

and that is an INSANE way to feel. especially aged like, 10.

i lost some weight when i was 18 but i didnt feel different. i didnt feel more worthy or like i was a better person. i wasnt more deserving of love and respect. i just had more time and some money for a gym membership, and had little by way of responsibilties so didnt stress eat. and theres the fact i was diagnosed with an overactive thyroid too.

my situation changed, my thyroid got treated, and i gained it all back and then some. so i started to feel less bad about it. how could i feel so bad about not being that weight, when being that weight required me to have a chronic disease while also spending about 14 hours at the gym a week and calorie count? it was a bit of a revelation

but the craziness didnt go away completely. its still my first wish when i see an eyelash. i still feel like i will be who im really supposed to be ““when”“ i ““finally”“ lose weight, that fabled goal ive had most of my life and rarely achieved, and it will make people like me more, understand me more, respect me more, love me more. i also know that this is not correct. but i feel it anyway.

i have a shit tonne of things to worry about, like the fact im unemployed, or the state of the whole entire world, but theres still part of me that insists that being skinny is the most important goal. because if i was skinny people would be sympathetic to any of my other failings. i work out and try to be healthy as much as i can, because i want to be fit and healthy, because i think it is helpful to improve my experience as a human animal. but still when i say ‘i just work out for fitness, i just watch my diet to make sure im getting what i need, its not about weight or looks’ on some level....im alwaaays lyingggggggg ;)

i have no reason why im saying this now. its not pertinent. i just had to get it out.

[dat-town]

bad attitude

Characters: boxer!Juyeon & You

Setting : your typical YA “bad boy” romance, inspired by his GenZ vid (and I kind of wanted to drop hints of the Ares & Aphrodite dynamic but I’m not sure I succeeded)

Summary: He looked like trouble walking on long legs. The kind of guy your parents would want you to stay away. And yet, not even the blood on his knuckles or his cold words biting like bullets can scare you away. Because Juyeon isn’t as bad as he thinks he is.

Warning: mentions of violence, implied sexual content and some guys not getting the hint to f*ck off

Words: 7k

You winced. 

You weren't even the one being hit and yet, the thud of punches soared through your whole body.

You'd never liked violence, not even fighting sports like this, and gosh, you regretted letting your best friend drag you with herself. Just because she had a crush on a boxer or MMA fighter or whatever, it didn't mean you had to support all her choices and out-of-character behaviour like paying a visit to a match. But she was determined and you were a good friend, so of course, you accompanied her. You wouldn't have let her go alone to this suspicious place called Dungeon probably filled with sweaty, muscly and aggressive guys. Although in reality, it was different from what you had imagined. A lot more professional and civilized for sure. But it didn't mean you liked it. At all. 

"Minjung-aaaah, how long do we have to stay here? Your guy has already beat someone," you whined because even though it felt as if you were out on a basketball match, still the witnessed violence, the blood splattered on the ground of the ring because of the gloveless fight and aggressive yelling from time to time made you feel uncomfortable in your skin.

"Until the end, silly, there's an after party we are invited to but come on, there's only one match left and I heard it's the most anticipated one," she tugged on your arm even acting cutely to convince you to stay a little more and even though you groaned, you stayed put. Oh the things you did for her, you thought but it was lovely to see her smile so bright.

"And now, the highlight of tonight... Let's applaud the current champion Leeeeee Juyeon and the challenger Kiiiiim Hongseok!" the announcer yelled into his mic and the audience roared. However, you paid more attention to the approaching, freshly-out-of-the-shower guy and kept nudging Minjung in the side, so she would notice him, too. She only did though when he arrived right next to you.

"Oh hey Sunwoo," she smiled at the redhead unconsciously playing with the banner in her hand that she had brought in support of the boy. You found her shy actions cute. 

"Hey girls, I'm glad you could make it," the fighter flashed a boyish smile at Minjung. Your friend had already spent nights telling you all about how much she liked the way his eyes sparkled or the way his lips tilted when he smiled, so even though you had never met the guy before, his appearance didn't shock you at all and in all honesty you thought they would have looked nice together. Also even though they were eyeing each other very obviously they engaged you in their small talk as well, so you didn't feel like a miserable third-wheel. 

"Juyeon is my friend and he is like really good," Sunwoo added when the match was about to start and he pointed at the guy wearing a white tank top and royal blue bandages around his knuckles. His ink black locks fell into his feline eyes and he really did look like a predator the way he circled around his competitor.

It was pretty high tension, everybody held their breath waiting for the first attack but it came so suddenly that you almost missed it. It was like a viper's strike: quick and deadly. The other guy stattered back, blood dripping from his mouth already. But then it got faster and more aggressive but you could tell it was the bloody faced one who started to lose his patience. There were hits and punches and you really didn't understand the pointing system no matter how Sunwoo kept narrating and explaining, but one thing you knew was that the match had come to an end of the match when the coal haired guy knocked out the other. Loud cheering erupted in the warehouse and the winner was awarded before the crowd started to dissolve. It was only then when you noticed how fast your heart hammered due to the adrenalin. You still didn't like it though.

"Imma get the guys but meet you there, girls," Sunwoo grinned at the two of you, and you have never seen Minjung so enamoured. She gushed all about him on your way to the nearby club and even when you got seated in a booth once you got yourself cocktails. She was in the middle of a self pep talk convincing herself to ask the guy out before the night ended when the guys showed up. Sunwoo, his roommate Chanhee whom you have also heard of, someone named Hyunjoon and Juyeon from the ring.

At first, you didn't recognize him. This time he wore blue jeans instead of sweattracks, a black shirt and a leather jacket over his lean biceps. One of his cheeks was puffy under his eyes and he had split lips but other than that, he looked unaffected by the fight before. That deadly glare was missing from his dark eyes as well. He merely looked a bit cold and uninterested. Even when Sunwoo took it upon himself to introduce everyone. He barely glanced in your direction, not even when your best friend found it necessary to tell everyone that you were modelling for a living beside university.

“My father told me to put my pretty face to some use,” you shrugged and you were glad when the guys moved on from the topic after a good laugh. Even though you had grown to love your job, as a model you faced quite a lot of prejudice about being nothing but a shallow beauty, so you didn't really like to talk about it. 

Throughout the evening Juyeon was quiet too but you couldn't help glancing his way a few times. He let others do the talking but the way he made sure to pour less alcohol into Hyunjoon's glass who was tipsy after a can of beer made you smile to yourself behind your cocktail.

At one point Minjung and Sunwoo left to dance and Hyunjoon managed to drag Chanhee along too, so you were left alone with 'the toughest guy of all' as Sunwoo jokingly called Juyeon earlier. He didn't look that scary now though.

"Does it hurt?" you pointed at his face which seemed to surprise him, not expecting you to speak up or at least not by bringing something like that up. 

"I've gotten used to it," he muttered while looking straight into your eyes, a pair of coal irises boring your yours and he just shrugged. 

"So it does," you hummed not really knowing what to do with his nonchalant behaviour. You weren't used to this. Some guys became bashful once they met you, some fanned over your beauty that always made your mother happy or even if they were more collected than that, you could always tell from their eyes that they were awed by your appearance at least a bit. But Juyeon? He didn't seem to care at all.

It was a relief, to be honest to not be put under the spotlight merely due to your pretty features. Sure, you earned good money thanks to your luck for having been born this way, so you shouldn't have complained but with being pretty came the expectations and everyone treated you like a doll and truth to tell, you wanted them to not only look but see you for real as well. Maybe that was why you were certain that the fighter had more to him as well but he wasn't an easy one to crack.

You asked how he knew Sunwoo (they went to the same gym), whether he felt pressured to keep his first place (he didn't care much about ranks, he just hated to lose) or whether he had always wanted to become some sort of athlete (that was merely what he was good at) and he kept giving curt answers. Yet, he didn't seem bothered by your questions, he jugged down his beer slowly in the meantime.

“I'm getting another round,” you proclaimed, getting up with a rum-flavoured smile on your rosy lips and you walked up to the counter to order another cocktail for you and beer for Juyeon. On the dance floor, you caught the vague image of Minjung and her boy, so you smiled and someone just had to be there to misunderstand…

“Like what you see, pretty? Want to join me for a drink?” Some guy at the counter directed his slurred question at you. You politely rejected his offer, telling him that you had company waiting for you but the guy didn't seem to understand your intent. Quite the opposite. “Oh come on! Are you trying to play hard to get? Don't be like this. Let oppa pour you a drink,” he cooed and unexpectedly grabbed you on the waist pulling you closer.

“Let go of me!” you whisper-yelled at the guy since you didn't want to earn pitying glances or draw too much attention. But it seemed like he didn't understand from simple, nice words.

So you were just about to threaten him by telling him he could get kicked out of the place for such harassment when someone grabbed the guy's wrist, prying it off you. You looked up surprised to see those wicked dark eyes back while rubbing your side where that douchebag had held you.

"She told you to leave her alone. Do you have problems with your hearing?" Juyeon asked through gritted teeth and his whole aura radiated power. You were surprised that the drunken guy dared to go against him but maybe it was due to liquid courage.

"What? Are you her boyfriend or what? Fuck off, dude." 

"It doesn't matter who I am, I can break your wrist nevertheless," Juyeon warned the guy but when he didn't listen, he indeed twisted his arm behind his back until he yelled for mercy.

"That's enough. Let's go," you put a hand over Juyeon's shoulder, feeling the tense muscles underneath, trying to reason that he shouldn't get into trouble. He shot you a glance, a displeased one but didn't object. He let go of the guy, who stumbled backwards.

Drinks long forgotten you let Juyeon lead you away from the crowd, a little further to the corridors and you felt strangely safe with the guy's big hand resting barely over the small of your back.

"Thank you," you whispered when you were away enough for it to be heard over the music. The guy didn't seem to expect such gratitude but he acknowledged it with a firm nod, hair falling ahead into his pitch dark eyes. 

"Do you want to go home?" he asked hoarsely and you gave it a thought. You didn't want to leave Minjung alone but she seemed to have good company and while you could have pretended being alright, not shaken up at all but one scene like this brought back many memories of other accidents and you just lost your party mood.

"Uhm yeah," you murmured and let Minjung know about your decision. Sunwoo also promised that he would make sure she got home safe and sound, then you got ready to leave. When you told Juyeon that you didn't mean to ruin his night and he shouldn't worry about you, he just shrugged.

“I needed an excuse to leave anyway. Let me walk you home.”

“You don't have to. I'm not a damsel in distress,” you protested immediately because even though you appreciated his concern, you also hated nothing more than being treated as weak. Even your steps halted once the fresh night air hit you in the face outside of the club.

“And I'm not a caveman,” Juyeon retorted and gosh, if it was his way of saying that he could act like a gentleman, it was pretty funny coming from him.

“Tells someone who beats people up for a living. Pretty Neandertal if you ask me,” you raised a brow challengingly but playful and it took a moment or two, him staring at you in disbelief, blinking before his lips trembled and his surprised chuckle morphed into a smile. The first genuine smile you had seen on him and wow, it was beautiful. The way his lips curled upwards and his eyes got narrow. Unlike his overall cold behaviour, it felt warm, it made your chest feel bubbly and hot.

“Fair point,” he noted but you didn't say a word when he walked next to you on your way to the bus stop. 

"Does it happen a lot?" he asked quietly at one point almost as if he wasn't sure he had the right to ask but you understood his reason. You weren't even fazed by that douche, that must have been suspicious.

"I have gotten used to it." 

"So it does," Juyeon mimicked (mocked?) your earlier words about his pained cheek.

“I work in an industry where things like this happen often. Don't worry. I'm a big girl, I can take care of guys who think with their dicks,” you claimed and the guy pressed his mouth into a firm line. He seemed a bit impressed by your attitude.

The rest of the walk and the bus ride was quiet. You didn't mind though, it wasn't the uncomfortable or awkward kind. It was an understanding one. Pretty nice.

“So that's me,” you said, pointing at the apartment block in which you shared your flat with Minjung. Juyeon looked around, alert eyes taking in the surroundings before acknowledging your answer with a nod. He really wasn't talkative and standing there, in front of the gates in all black, he reminded you of stray cats, careful and reckless all the same.

“I will see you around, I guess. Don't forget to put ice on that,” you pointed at his puffy cheek and he grinned at that. Hands deep in his pockets, leather jacket loose on his shoulder, he turned around once you set your foot inside the building.

But he didn't leave your thoughts that night.

Next day, you would have expected Minjung to be sleepy and whiny like she usually was in the mornings but she was already up by the time you went out to the kitchen. It should have been suspicious but you only realized the reason behind her giddiness a bit later.

“Soooo you and Juyeon...” she singsonged while putting coffee in front of you and you couldn't hide an amused smile in disbelief. Of course, she had to bring that up.

“There's no me and Juyeon.”

“Little birds told me you talked all night and he even walked you home,” your best friend continued making it sound like a cheap American movie because of her intonations.

“Well, I hope your birdies told you that nothing happened,” you snickered playfully because honestly, you didn't want her to get the wrong idea. It was unlikely that anything would come out of it and you weren't sure you wanted that anyway. Sure, Juyeon had this aura that attracted people and you had felt your blood rush when you had locked eyes. Not to mention that yesterday was probably just him being nice without any hidden intent. Actually you would have hated it a bit if he had expected anything in exchange for his unasked courtesy. So in your books, him walking you home and then leaving just like that was actually a good point.

It was Minjung who seemed disappointed.

“A shame. He's hot,” she pouted at which you raised a brow. She laughed it off. “What? Just because I like Sunwoo, I can admit that his friend is hot.”

“You know I don't care about looks and I'm not having casual sex with a friend of your future boyfriend,” you said firmly, tone playful by the end, wanting to get back on her because of her teasing. But it seemed like she took your words seriously as she corrected you almost nonchalantly. 

“Present tense.”

“What?” you blinked, hopeful.

“I mean I guess it's official. We are having a date on Sunday,” Minjung admitted with a bright smile, practically beaming and now you could understand where her sudden awakeness came from.

“Yah, and you waited this long to tell me!” You hit her on the back, demanding details while both of you minched on slightly overburnt toasts.

With Minjung and Sunwoo dating, their circles of friends hung out regularly and that meant that you met Juyeon quite often. The more you got to know him, the more you realized he was the actions over words type of guy and he never did anything halfassly. He was very competitive, you jokingly called him Neanderthal for that too but he didn't seem to mind. He merely got back at you, calling you princess whenever you complained about something and you wouldn't have admitted it out loud but even that kind of nickname sounded pleasing as it rolled off his tongue.

But the truth was, you were really different, it was obvious from the very beginning. You didn't need a very tipsy Hyunjoon to tell you that Juyeon used to be wary of you, thinking you were a brainless chick because 'who else would go for modelling'. It stinged despite knowing that he had changed his mind since.

“He has been a changed man since you talked,” Hyunjoon giggled, obviously exaggerating but you just nodded along, telling him it was time to go home.

To be honest, you weren't different either. Before meeting Sunwoo and his friends, you didn't have a too good of an opinion on those who earned money from fighting. You thought that those who did must have been aggressive muscle-heads outside of the ring as well.

But your differences weren't just about the stereotypes. From what you had gathered, Juyeon prefered action movies while you liked comedies. He always wore dark clothes while you had barely anything but light and pastel colours. He drank bitter beer while you opted for sweet cocktails. He was a night owl, you were a morning bird. His go-to coffee was black, yours was latte with whipped cream. He prefered silence, you on the other hand liked talks about nothing and everything. And even though you didn't know him too well, you used these differences to convince yourself that it wouldn't work out anyway so why bother trying. At least, according to Minjung you used these as excuses for not making a move.

It was nothing but a crush, it would go away, you told yourself but oh, you were just a butterfly drawn to the flame recklessly close.

After one of his matches, Juyeon was taking longer than usual, and the guys were pumped up over Sunwoo's glorious win, so they weren't too patient. You sent them off, promising to go after them with Juyeon because you didn't mind staying behind even if it meant missing out on the first few rounds of alcohol. But since Juyeon gave no sign of himself, you made your way backstage with the pass you got from Hyunjoon to check on him. Knocking on the changing room door, you could hear him grumbling something, probably thinking his visitor was one of the guys.

“It's me,” you mumbled as you opened the door but the sight that welcomed you made you freeze on the spot. The floor was scattered with green glass pieces, remnants of a soju bottle and there was blood too, carmine dots colouring the white tiles.

“What the he- What happened?” you looked around, shocked after you closed the door behind you. The place looked like there was a scrummage over there.

“Someone's a sore loser,” Juyeon muttered, anger dripping from his words while he held his hand under running water over the sink in the corner. The way he gritted his teeth you could easily tell that he was in pain. His blood coming from his lower arm and back of the hand painted the water pink, so you could understand why. You decided to pay more attention to that, rather than the asshole who attacked him off-ring.

“Do you have a first aid kit? I'll help,” you offered because bandaging his hurt hand with the other wouldn't have been easy, not even for someone who seemed experienced in taking care of his own injuries.

Juyeon looked suspicious though, at least at first, not getting how you would know anything about treating wounds.

“I have a licence, duh,” you rolled your eyes. You had been trained for emergency situations on the road, so a few cuts should have been okay. So when Juyeon sighed, you took it as a sign of agreement, so you gestured him to sit on the bench and after you got the first aid kit ready, you sat next to him.

As you took his hand in yours, you felt his rough knuckles and fingertips against your soft skin and neither that, nor his breathing against your ear didn't help you to focus. But somehow you still managed to do it, smoothing bandages over the wounds gently after you cleaned them and covered them with antiseptic. Luckily they weren't too deep but since it wasn't a simple papercut you were sure they would heal slower and wouldn't go away without a trace. 

“Done,” you announced with a smile on your face and pride in your voice, soothing a thumb over Juyeon’s wrist mindlessly as if you were trying to ease his tensed nerves. “It's going to leave an ugly scar though.”

“I'm not pretty anyway, so it doesn't matter,” the boxer muttered, probably used to having scars all over and you had this urge to tell him that even with purple and green bruises blooming all over him like flowers you would have found him beautiful.

Only when you looked up, searching for his night-like eyes on you,  you noticed how close you really were. Sitting side-by-side, knees barely but touching, you could see his facial expressions better than ever before and it would have been so easy to lean in and just… You weren't sure what but a moment was enough for you to feel overwhelmed under his intense stare.

It really wasn't that he was hot with his wide shoulders, strong arms, hands so big or with those feline eyes holding black holes and lips thin but attractive. What drew you in was the burning passion in his eyes, the way he looked when he was focused and that he seemingly didn't give a fuck about what others thought of him.

And now he was looking at your with unadulterated want and curiosity in his wild eyes and it shook you to the core.

“Isn't this the part you should tell me that I should see the other guy?” you whispered, playfully, not being able to get out what you really wanted to say about him being pretty no matter what he thought.

“You wouldn't like what you saw,” Juyeon said dryly with a twitch in the corner of his mouth. So the other guy did look worse, you concluded, and his answer reminded you how well he knew you already. And it was the answer to all your questions. So you just nodded, not asking more, not wanting to know what he had done. You gulped and turned your head away, ready to leave. Only if your legs didn't feel so heavy.

“The others must be getting worried, we shou-”

“I bet they aren't,” Juyeon interrupted you but let you pull your hand away, to fumble with the first aid kit, putting it away. “They know you are with me.”

He was right, of course they knew. They also knew that you were safe with him. So what were you afraid of? Not rejection, for sure. You knew both of you felt this kind of tingling tension between you. Then what? You weren't sure but you didn't want to be a coward anymore.

“Walk me home?” you asked, quiet and casual, no pressure but Juyeon just hummed as if it was natural. It was kind of déjavu except not really because when you reached your apartment complex, you didn't bid goodbye reminding him to change the bandage in the morning.

“Want to come upstairs? I have beer to make up for the loss of alcohol from tonight's missed party,” you offered instead and the suggestion was heavy in the air. Juyeon knew just as well that Minjung was out with the others and wouldn't make it back soon.

“Sure,” he muttered and followed you to the elevator. The tension was almost tangible by the time the flat's door closed shut behind you.

“So, this is us. Make yourself at home, I’ll bring the be-” you chattered after kicking off your high heels but on your way to the kitchen you were stopped by calloused fingers on your wrist. His touch was sudden but not rough at all and you felt electricity run through your veins because of this simple action.

“Where is this going? What do you really want, princess?” Juyeon asked, quietly, but each of his words echoed loudly in your head. And there it was, that nickname again, except this time it wasn't playful.

You turned back to him, locking eyes, finding that dark pair on you immediately. You could have told him many things, that you just wished to talk, that maybe you could watch a movie, but then in that very moment there was just one thing you really wanted.

“You,” you blurted out, not caring about the consequences, heart beating so loud you were afraid he would hear. But maybe he knew anyway with the way he kept holding on your arm, long fingers padding over your vein. At your answer, there was a flash of… something - maybe the crumble of his resolution or a spark of desire - in his eyes before he yanked you closer to him and crashed his mouth to yours.

His lips were a bit chapped and they moved feverishly against yours. He wasn't too gentle, didn't treat you like you were made of porcelain but you didn't even need or want that. It was just perfect. You ran your tongue along the wound on his lower lip and felt a rush of power and adrenaline at the way he grunted. Maybe you started to understand why he liked those things so much.

And you fell into that hole you swore you wouldn't: that night you mapped out his body, a history of past scars, lips following the marks while Juyeon left his own trace on you murmuring sweet names into your skin and kissed you like he could never get enough of you.

But of course, he could and you made it even easier as you pretended to be asleep when he walked out.

Next morning, your best friend came out of her room while you were in the middle of oversweetening your coffee to the point you would get sick of it. She seemed awfully cheerful but you just couldn't pretend that you felt the same after those haunting thoughts that didn't let you sleep almost all night. You could still smell the antiseptic mixed with sandalwood scent on your sheets.

“So you and Juyeon didn't join us yesterday,” Minjung singsonged but her knowing smile fell as soon as she saw your expression. “Oh sweetie, what happened?”

“Nothing new. I was just stupid,” you sighed but it didn't take long for the lavina inside you to burst out. “It's not like either of us promised anything. And the sex was so good, it's just… he left without saying anything or leaving a note. Gosh, I should have known better.” 

You had been emotionally involved from the very beginning and you weren't sure you could look him in the eye at the next friends gathering, so you were thinking of bailing out but in the end, with the encouragement of Minjung, you decided you weren't just some chick who would cry because of boys. So you went out accepting the drinks Chanhee generously brought all of you. You tried to avoid eye contact with Juyeon though, dancing with strangers but when you did catch his eyes on you, it made your insides boil.

“It's not polite to stare,” you told him when you got back to your table and he raised a brow at that, the smallest of smiles hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“What did you expect from a Neanderthal?”

At his joke, a chuckle threatened to leave your throat, lungs suddenly feeling light. You could do this, you thought, relaxed. So you talked: you asked about his wound, his next match, told him about your upcoming photoshoot and that one class in college that stressed you out. It was nice, so nice you felt your head spinning in his closeness and by the end of the night you found yourself pinned to the wall of a hidden corridor, lips bitten red by his eager kisses.

The thing was that it didn't happen only once. It seemed like you two were addicted to each other, hooked on the other's taste. You knew you should have stopped before getting hurt, before getting your heart broken, yet you couldn't because having him one way was still better than not having him at all.

Minjung got worried over time, asking whether you knew what you were doing and you were pretty sure Sunwoo knew about the situation, too. Otherwise his 'keeping you company while Minjung gets dressed' topic would have been utterly out of blue at the kitchen counter in your apartment.

“Juyeon… he isn't as confident as he seems. And he is pretty bad at talking about feelings stuff,” he blurted out while you were trying not to cry while cutting onions. The knife stopped in your hand, the prickling behind your eyes didn't.

“Uhm, sure.”

“Just in case you were wondering,” he shrugged and luckily dropped the topic soon, so you could go back to cooking. However, Sunwoo's wordless advice stuck with you, nudging you, knowing that you had to be the one who brings emotions. You thought that with time you would be more ready to do that but it was far from true.

It was the first time you went to the Dungeon alone. Minjung came down with something, so she was pretty much bedridden and no matter how much you insisted on staying home with her, making soup or something, she convinced you to cheer the boys on at their matches. So you were there, in the audience, alone, feeling a bit awkward and the same adrenaline mixed with awe and fear while you were watching Juyeon fight a guy taller and broader than him. He might have been the champion and you knew he was good but still, you got worried from time to time. Your heart still beat overtime when his hand was raised above his head.

You clapped proudly but this time you weren't planning on joining the afterparty, you only wanted to say hi to the guys and then leave to get some extra medicine for your best friend. However, before you could have left the warehouse, someone whom you would have never thought to see there came to your vision halfway to the exit.

“Wow, fancy seeing you here! I didn't know you like this kind of stuff,” the lanky figured guy grinned down at you and you gulped, trying to be polite about it. He was a photographer you once worked with and he was creepy as hell back then too, touching inappropriately and texting you until you blocked him not getting the sign to just stop.

“I came with friends,” you told him a half-lie and tried to pass him by with an apologizing smile but before you could have moved away from him, he grabbed your wrist, mouth pulled into a supposedly-charming smirk.

“What about getting a drink?”

“Let me go,” you attempted to pull your hand away but his grip only got firmer. Rough enough to make you wince.

“Come on, don't be like this. Or do you think you are too good for me just because you are pretty?” he spat and that was when you tossed him in the chest with your free hand even though you believed violence was never the answer. Using his loosened grip to your advantage and yanking your arm away, rubbing the bruise, you turned on your heels and started walking out in faster speed, taking out your phone just in case you had to call someone. But you weren't quick enough because the photographer guy caught up to you, calling you out on running away, calling you names you hated.

“Take your filthy hands off her,” a familiar voice snapped and you felt the photographer yanked away from you while yelling at the intruder:

“Who the fuck you think you are?”

“Someone to beat you to pulp if you keep treating her like a freaking doll,” Juyeon hissed at him, pushing him roughly to the wall of the corridor. Recognizing him the guy suddenly seemed to understand what no meant but the fear in his eyes didn't satisfy the boxer. It felt like déjavu: him coming to your rescue, his threat, the wickedness in his feline eyes, your urge to stop him before things would have gotten out of hand. “I will break your fingers if you touch her again.”

“Juyeon, stop. He isn't worth it,” you tried to pull him away by the arm but he shrugged your hand off, flashing you a glance that could have been only described as dangerous. You stumbled backwards momentarily frightened and seeing that, Juyeon's eyes immediately softened, hand loosening around the photographer's collar. He looked apologetic as he held his hand out for you with his palm up and for a moment, air got stuck in your lungs. You took his hand without thinking and let him lead you out of the place. 

You asked no questions, made no protests, just enjoyed his warm palm against yours. It was new, it was butterflies in your stomach-worthy. 

“My place is closer,” he said seemingly out of nowhere as if it was that simple but it wasn’t anything but that. It had been months since you knew him, since you started this something but you had never been at his place before.

“Okay,” you mumbled anyway.

He was right, he lived much closer than you, within walking distance and even though his place was smaller and quite messier than yours, you liked how cozy it was. He told you that his roommates would be back only later and brought you water to drink but you only tapped your fingers over the glass. 

To be honest, you didn't know where the two of you stood, and how to approach the new situation. You never talked about it and it was light and casual, playful while slowly getting to know each other out in the open but on the other hand, behind closed doors it was way more intimate than being simple friends. And things were even more fragile now having the same friends because what if you brought up dating and then he felt uncomfortable around you? Losing him and making it harder for your best friend was both something you feared.

"You're thinking too hard," Juyeon commented and you gulped.

You weren't surprised he noticed. You weren't exactly subtle but then again how he couldn't notice you slowly falling for him then? The way your eyes lingered? The way your touches were loving and gentle? The way you just couldn't get enough.

“Juyeon… What are we exactly?” you blurted out the question from the top of your mind and he sighed as if he knew what was coming but now that this question was out, you had nothing more to lose, no more of your pride.

“Good girls like you falling for bad boys like me only happen in cheesy books and movies. We both know it wouldn't work out," Juyeon told you, resigned and so sure of himself that it made your throat close up. He didn't even try to play the oblivious, he was so straightforward that it almost heart, ripping your heart out of your chest. But it wasn't an answer, it was a 'what you were not'.

“What the hell are you talking about? You are not a bad guy,” you objected right away because despite his borderline illegal job he was a good guy, loyal to his friends. But it seemed like his definition of bad was different.

“Then why did you flinch before? Do you think I could ever hit you, hurt you physically?” he asked and he was the one who looked hurt. You frantically shook your head trying to tell him that you were taken aback by the sheer anger that enveloped him in that moment but you weren't afraid of him. But Juyeon seemed unable to listen. “You know what? Doesn't matter because I don't fit into your perfect life anyway. Why would a pretty princess want an uneducated Neanderthal like me?”

You hissed, not liking the way he used your nicknames in such context and it made you desperate.

“Because I like you!”

Your voice echoed from the empty voice, it rang into your ears and there were the two of you, standing face to face, silent for a long minute.

"I don't think you like me. You like what I stand for: excitement, adrenalin, a bit of rule breaking. You will end up with a nice guy, princess, like you should," Juyeon sighed and him telling you what you should have done made you so mad. 

"Don't try to tell me what I feel!" You raised your voice, something you rarely even did and the fighter looked shocked through, eyes wide, running a hand through his inky strands.

“I don't want to hurt you and hurting people is the only thing I'm good at,” he told you and if the conversation wasn't so hurtful, you would have laughed at such a ridiculous claim.

“Bullshit. You care about your friends, you pay attention, you work hard, you are passionate and now, now you are telling me to find a nicer guy. Instead of breaking my heart to pieces by saying you don't think of me that way, that it was just sex for you, you say none of those things. Why?” you raised a brow at him, provocative, hanging on those last threads of hope and the boy stared back at you as if he was in the ring, ready to fight but unready at the same time. He was obviously torn and frustrated, knuckles turning white.

“Because it wouldn't be true,” he said almost as if he was giving up, letting the last of his walls fall and you needed a moment, heart hammering against your ribcage so loudly, to process this and what it meant. And when you finally understood, a chuckle rolled off your tongue in disbelief. You couldn’t believe that you were not just a coward but blind to see that what you two had wasn’t just being friends with something extra to him either.

You had never seen Juyeon so confused than in that moment, when in that heated moment of the fight you started laughing out loud, smile beaming and directed at him from the relief you felt.

“Good,” you hummed, acknowledging his answer. “Then stop acting so selfless. It doesn’t look good on you and anyway, Neanderthals used to fight for women, not let them go,” you tsked playfully and the guy couldn’t help a snort-like laughter either.

“You’re unbelievable,” he huffed out quite impressed and you couldn’t stop smiling. Not even when he added: “Please tell me you don’t wanna do cheesy shit Sunwoo and your friend do.”

“You mean the couple accessories and celebrating their 100th days together?” you raised a brow and just by the fact that it was his biggest worry now, you knew that you won. You pursued your lips, jokingly pondering on the possibilities. “Gosh, no… But I wouldn’t say no to cuddles tonight.”

“Oh so you wouldn’t say no...” Juyeon cracked a smile, dark cat-like eyes sparkling mischievously while a brow shot up to the middle of his forehead and hummed, excitement building up in your veins as he cornered you to the furniture behind you. “What else you wouldn’t say no to, princess?” he tilted his head and instead of giving him an answer verbally, you grabbed the collar of his tee and pulled him down for a searing kiss.

And cheesy or not, at his next match, you showed up with a banner, too. Get them, Neanderthal!

[sophi-s]

In Their Hollow Heart

Chapter II: Absolution

Fandom: Hollow Knight video game

Words: 9,832

Characters: Hollow Knight, Hornet, Ghost (the Knight), the Radiance, Tiso (he’s alive, screw the cannon XD), the Pale King

Warnings: Blood and Gore, Violence, Sickness, Mind manipulation, Suicidal thoughts, Vomit, Gross imagery, Self harm TW, Permanent injury, Angst, SPOILERS for the game.

Summary:

The tormented Hollow Knight unexpectedly stands face to face with one they thought dead throughout their whole life. And to their astonishment, the very same bug does the impossible and relieves them of their duty.

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Another day passes in utter silence in the Black Egg Temple. Nothing disturbs the stillness of this place aside from a steady sound similar to a heartbeat which comes from the pulsing veins of Infection. And at the centre of the dark chamber illuminated weakly by the said Infection hangs a large, slender figure in armor and a cape. The passage of long years hasn’t done much justice to the once silver-white attire. Cloaked in shadow and held firmly by enchanted chains, the figure makes no move. Only indicators of the spark of life still flickering weakly in them is a loud, disturbingly raspy breath and the furious light in their eyes glinting with madness. Deemed worthy and strong enough to contain the Goddess of Dreams, the failed Vessel holds as still as a statue, sometimes squirming in futile attempts to break free from the chains. The disease keeps spreading without control, only halted by the Void in the ruined body of its host. Such is the fate of the Hollow Knight.

Since the Radiance had torn their willpower to pieces, the Hollow Knight found their true self slipping away into darkness way too often, hopelessly seeking relief in dreams but unsurprisingly finding none in the domain of their tormentor. If anything, all that waited for them there was more pain. Everything they wanted was to be finally free from this cursed existence, this… mockery of life. But it seems even that was too much to ask for, desoite the fact that they’d been promised an end long ago now. The Pure Vessel was never supposed to think, have feelings or desires. For its mind should be empty. They shouldn't want anything. And their fate was brutally reminding them of that.

Day by day, their body was burning up from the disease that held them tight in its grasp, making them wish for the end all the more. Memories began to fade as they fought to keep them from escaping. Without them… they would become just another husk animated by Her light. And it scared them.. Fear, alongside dejection, seemed to be an emotion that accompanied them constantly these days... They just needed one strong person to open this blasted Vault. Just one skilled knight to shatter the chains and put them out of their misery. But then the Radiance would be fully free. Nothing would be stopping Her from wiping the Hallownest off the pages of history. If only one of the lost siblings survived… empty like their father wanted. The true Hollow Knight. Just one, to successfully relieve them of their duty… Cruel. Something scolded the Vessel at these thoughts. They deserved what they'd gotten for their lies and had the audacity to wish for the same fate on someone else? Selfish. Cruel. Cruel! In despair (much stronger than sadness they knew already...), the Hollow Knight let themself slip away again, unable to argue with the laughter of the Goddess.

Like father, like son!

They had no wish to face the Radiance again so soon but their weariness took the better of them. Maybe this time She will have mercy on them and fulfill Her end of the bargain? Who knows? Soon they found out it unsurprisingly was not going ot be the case. However… when they left their infested shell behind to drift through the Realm of Dreams something has changed. Everything around was shaped differently. In this dream, they stood tall and proud, they were free and the scorching heat of the disease no longer troubled them. Memories returned in full with the moment they opened their black eyes. The pure nail rested in their hands - yes, hands! - its sharp tip on the ground at their feet as they started forward at nothing in particular. Like they had many times in the White Palace. What an odd dream… everything was dark and grey, chains swung from the sky around but never touched them and the inky smoke of Void drifted around. Just to make sure, they flex the fingers of their right hand. It responds as it should but it's.. numb. They have no feeling in the offending appendage. As though - bitter laughter bubbles up in their chest but never comes to be - it wasn't truly there. Was this another form of torture? Was the Radiance tormenting them again by showing them what they could've been but will never be? Their armor was beautiful and silver, glinting in the pale light of white sigils surrounding the strange arena they found themself in. As enchanting as the dream was, it caused them only further misery. Now they began to understand those who considered the Nightmare King the good-aligned deity and not the Radiance. Dreams cause disappointment with the reality - because it could be just like in this dream - while nightmares allow one find comfort and appreciate the world as it is.. A soft pitter patter of small feet behind them was all they needed to snap. Had She conjured an illusion of their baby sister running around them and bouncing in place, pleading to be picked up, as well?

Enough!

The Hollow Knight jammed their nail further into the ground in frighteningly unfamiliar fury - anger but... stronger, more violent somehow - as their armor started to give out underneath the pressure of seething Void before shattering into tiny pieces, leaving them only in their plain light-grey cloak. If She wanted them to cast off their hollow mask then congratulations, because She just managed to royally piss them off. Even that day when they saw three ethereal nails protruding from their father's chest as he fought for life bleeding out on the ground after Xero attacked him in disease-induced insanity they weren't this mad at the Goddess. And before they never thought it even possible. Whipping around angrily, ready to face the doppelganger of tiny Hornet, they intended to end this foul dream. I won't have the strength to cut her down. A small voice whispered. Illusion or not, they wouldn't have it in them to harm their little sister. Still, they were ready to face down whatever the Radiance wanted to throw at them. But what they saw instead made them freeze for a moment in shock and horror. Nothing could've prepared them for what waited behind them. As unmoving as always, their face didn't show the fear that paralyzed them. Fear just like any other but much more intense. Crippling. Petrifying. Horror.

Before them, standing no taller than their kneecap, stood… not Hornet. Worse still, someone they never thought they'd be seeing again as long as they still draw breath. Small, lithe and dressed in a ragged cloak.. A memory flashed before their eyes, a pale face gawking at them and silently crying for help.. None other than their lost twin. Just like the day they left the poor child to die in the Abyss, staring up at them with their large, empty eyes from the white shell with slim horns sporting tiny notches at their ends. And in those hollow eyes, there was no hatred, no accusation, no sadness, nothing.. aside from a small spark of something resembling surprised fondness. As though they were.. happy to see the older twin. Through the link of the Void, the Hollow Knight heard a small voice reach out to them. No, not a voice. more like.. a thought or an emotion shaped into a single word that struck them like a nail to the gut.

Sibling!

No, this can't be.. this isn't true! Their twin is dead! Resting on the bottom of the Abyss with all the shattered shells of other siblings. Does Her depravity know no bounds? They will not let the Radiance toy with them like that! Throwing their head back, the Hollow Knight wished to scream out their hatred into the darkened skies but… no sound leaves their throat. No voice...  As it was meant to be. No matter. It changes nothing. They barely paid any mind to a mysterious figure in a brass mask watching them from a gilded throne with curiosity and reverence as they lunged at the ghost of their sibling with cold rage and fiery determination. And to their surprise, they felt.. strong. Just like they used to before their imprisonment and absorbing the Old Light. And what was even odder, the fake twin easily avoided their attack by dissolving into a shadowy form that passed through their body without any resistance like icy cold air. Its cool brush unexpectedly turned into a sharp bite and to Hollow Knight’s surprise, once they looked down on themself they discovered that a shallow cut suddenly appeared on their side, dripping small amount of Void. Strange..

Unimportant. This was but a scratch, barely visible. Still, rather strange... Not letting it throw them off, the Pure Vessel immediately leaped into the air only to descend onto the twin's head and slam their nail into the ground, focusing to summon Soul Pillars and impale the little one. With no luck. The child unfolded six, glowing wings - just like the ones father had on his back, they noticed glumly - just in time to move out of the way of the pale blades. They followed up the narrow dodge by swinging their tiny, pure nail - a rare, fine weapon - at the older sibling's face. The blade cracked loudly against their shell, knocking stars into their vision for a moment. The Hollow Knight recoiled, both in pain from the strike and in shock from how… real it felt.

The Radiance is a master of weaving Dreams but something was not right. Even the most realistic dreams cannot feel so true. Vision should be more blurry, their senses duller.. but they weren't. Besides, a strike this hard definitely should've slapped them awake without issue. Yet, here they still were. But it's not like they had time to ponder over it. They were in the middle of a duel, for Wyrm's sake. Gathering their bearings, the Pure Vessel let their battle instincts take over. Writhing shadows consumed them and reformed their body on the other end of what they with all certainty could call an arena and extended their numb hand to shoot out a barrage of Soul Daggers at their opponent.

The fight went one like this for quite some time, the ghost managing to get hits on their sibling between their fast-paced, merciless attacks and spells. Small size worked on advantage for Hollow Knight's adversary who always somehow found a way to worm their way to their target without getting hit (minus that one time they failed to dodge one of the daggers and it slashed across their shoulder). At least until the Vessel has had enough of this little game. Intending to surprise the illusion of their twin, the Hollow Knight arched their back and released a pair of thrashing Void Tendrils from their own chest and finally knocked the little vessel down, leaving them stunned for a moment. Giving them no room to breathe, they followed up with a triple slash of their long nail and whacked the unfortunate child to the side before pouncing on them and pinning them down with their free hand.

No more trickery. This ends here and now. But… even though they were eager to shatter the cruel illusion, the Vessel had to admit that this fight made them feel… alive. For the first time in forever since the time stopped flowing for them. It was kind of sad to end this already. Why would the Radiance entertain me with a battle? But something in the back of their head was compelling them to carry on. Fully prepared to stab the nail down into the tiny body squirming in their hold, the Hollow Knight raised their weapon when suddenly… they heard clapping. Blinking down befuddled, they realised it was the child clapping their small, nubby hands, oblivious to the fact that Void was now seeping through a crack in their mask and from a slash across their chest, and that they were about to die. Congratulating them?

Sibling won! Sibling is still so strong!

Words sent through the Void said. If the Hollow Knight didn't know any better, they'd think the miniature twin seemed.. impressed. Were they actually impressed? What is going on? Focusing on the weak bond between the two of them, the Hollow Knight squinted. There was something… familiar about the presence of the tiny vessel and by no means was it the sense of closure they shared long ago. No, it was something else. Beating within their heart, familiar, yet foreign at the same time. It almost felt like the presence of the Pale King but.. darker. It felt like... home. Is that…? Slowly, the Hollow Knight let a small glimmer of hope rekindle in their broken heart. Believing that this might not be an illusion. But… what was it in that case? What does this mean? Their twin lives? How…?

Will come back! Help sibling! Just a little longer...

They chirped happily through the connection between their minds before some unseen power forced the Hollow Knight's hand down and brought the pure nail straight through their small heart, silencing it in an instant. Dream particles erupted from their shattered body and the Hollow Knight suddenly found themself back in the Egg. In chains, rotten through and absolutely flabbergasted. Severe confusion fused into one emotion with surprise. Whatever happened, it snapped them back to reality. To cold, rough bonds, to the burning Infection tearing its ruthless claws into their insides.. And for just a short moment, they felt their head clear out. Only one question remained. What was that supposed to mean? Whatever that was.. Their questions were aggressively halted by a jolt of pain and a mist clouding their senses.

Ever since this strange dream, the Radiance started to force Her will onto the Hollow Knight much more brutally, trying to keep them Her pawn - though they initially weren’t sure why - causing them so much pain it more than once made them pass out. But even still, the Vessel and the Radiance were one. They felt something in Her they hadn't before. And it was nothing different than straight out fear in its purest form. She was afraid. A Goddess. What could She possibly be afraid of? The little sibling. Something told them when the memory of the darkness pulsing within the small vessel's chest came to mind. Slowly, they began to understand. She was attempting to keep them as far away from that dream as possible as this one seemed to be out of Her direct control.. And soon, the Hollow Knight was about to realise they'd never been more right in their life before.

In spite of Her efforts, they returned to the arena again. Greeted by the sight of their twin just like the first time. And an unexplainable force made them fight the child. It ended as expected when the ghost fell yet again after a stray Soul Dagger cracked their shell apart. And again, impaled on a Soul Pillar. And again, caught in the area of an exploding Focus spell, after that. But they never gave up. And each time this dream repeated, the more apparent Radiance's apprehension was becoming. As broken and tortured as they were, the Hollow Knight found some small semblance of hope rising from the depths of their despair again. Resurrected by the supposedly dead twin sibling. Killing them over and over again brought the Vessel no joy but whatever this dream was, whatever the tiny voidling was attempting to do, it scared the life out of the Goddess of Dreams Herself, filling the Hollow Knight with wicked satisfaction. A pleasant feeling one feels after accomplishing some great feat or watching something... well, satisfying happen. Oh, how they wished to live to see Her get what's coming to her.. For the first time in what felt like forever, the Hollow Knight felt the urge to smile (metaphorically, as their face cannot really express much), even through the pain She was inflicting on them. Soon, they found themself looking forward to battling their twin again.

With each time the ghost challenged the Pure Vessel to a fight, they were getting stronger, faster, more cunning. And when a decisive strike of a small nail finally brought them down to their knees the Hollow Knight couldn't help the alien feeling of gentle warmth welling up in their chest, the overwhelming… joy. Was this what their father felt when they took on all of the Five Knights at the same time and won? Was this.. pride? Even leaking Void from every possible body part and in pain (different from the disease, more familiar and somewhat comforting), they wished to mentally smile at their tiny counterpart but never had a chance as ray of blinding light - dreadfully familiar bright light - descended on the twin siblings and a cry of outrage echoed through the air, making both of them look up. A brutal yank brought the Hollow Knight back into their plagued body but… something was different. No force was ripping their sentience out from their grasp. The Radiance, while present in their head, paid them no mind as Her overwhelming fury filled every fiber of their being, sending ripples through the Infection clinging to them. What is happening?

It continued for a couple more minutes before an excruciating pain shot through the Hollow Knight without a single warning as a soul rending screech of the Dream Goddess made their head feel like it was about to explode. They seized and trembled when the horrid sensation did not cease. Their heart began to hammer in their chest quickly and unevenly, sometimes skipping a beat until they twisted in their bindings and released a cry of agony. But it wasn't their voice. They lacked one of their own after all. It was the Radiance. All their entrails felt as though they were set on fire or something was tearing them apart from the inside. In fear and confusion, the Vessel trashed about, Infection pouring freely from their opened mouth and eyes but they could sense some feelings that weren't theirs. Rage. Denial. Terror. Through the burning light filling up the entirety of their vision they saw Her figure writhing amidst a foreign darkness invading Her domain. Just there, at the peak of this darkness - as if the steadied, yet still ravenous Abyssal Sea rose up to challenge its nemesis - stood the familiar presence of the Hollow Knight's twin. And She was undoubtedly completely and absolutely terrified.

But the satisfaction coming from this fear did not ease in pain or the gurgling coughs ejecting the pus from their throat. The Hollow Knight felt as though their head was being split in two as the Infection was aggressively beating against the walls of their weak body, violently peeling itself off their organs and simultaneously desperately trying to keep itself rooted inside. A strained wheeze that escaped them sounded like a death rattle of an asthmatic Wyrm. Fitting, considering their origins.. It was much less funny when taking into account the fact that they couldn't breathe. They screamed alongside the Radiance, desperately gulping down every, even the smallest gasp of air they could. Another shriek tore through them and the bulging tumors on their chest abruptly ruptured, as did the ones on the stump of their right arm, spilling the disgusting, rotten fluids every which way. Infection was sizzling and thrashing about with a mind of its own until it started to evaporate in the clouds of sticky, rapidly fading smoke.

It takes a lot to bring a seasoned warrior to the point of crying out of pain but this was more than enough. Before, the Infection existed mostly in "agreement" with its host but now the Vessel felt as though they had ingested a bucket of potent acid. Tears - their normal, Void tears - started to flow uncontrollably as they shivered in spasms. The Hollow Knight didn't know how long this ordeal lasted so far but even half dazed by the pain they knew one thing. They were dying without a doubt. And the Infection inside was dying with them. Despite the dark thoughts inhabiting their broken mind as of late, ones whispering of sweet, cold claws of death, they were scared. Their twin, one whom they presumed dead for so long came back in a desperate attempt to help them, even in a dream. They couldn't let their efforts be for naught and die just like that! Praying to all Gods of Hallownest for strength, the Vessel drew another struggling breath that lined their lungs with miniscule needles and pins.

Help... Someone... anyone...

And then suddenly… the screaming stopped. The next thing the Hollow Knight knew was that the light was gone from their sight, replaced by blackness. Seconds later, or maybe longer, they couldn't say for certain, a heavy impact brought the scraps of consciousness back to them. At first, they were sure they'd been struck but in truth it was their form limply hitting the floor when they crumpled in a heap like a puppet when one cuts the strings. The stone tiles were underneath their cheek, the hold of chains absent. Burning pain remained but it was… different somehow. It wasn't the searing of the Old Light but the injuries it left behind. Even with their mind swirling like a carousel, the Hollow Knight realised it felt.. clear. Clearer than it has in ages. No alien presence lingers in the depths of their psyche. Still, the splitting headache wasn't making the thoughts easier to formulate. Do not think. It will be easier this way.

Although the possibility of receiving an answer sacares them, the Hollow Knight has to make sure. They hesitantly search through their own mind and quietly call.

Old Light?

Nothing. Silence.

Are you still there..?

No response. Dead quiet. Darkness. No internal fire, no force pressing against the remnants of their resolve and forcing its will upon them. No wisps dancing around in their vision, only dots of black and sparks of white caused by the pain. In their heaving chest, their black heart skips a beat. Could it be? Hesitantly, the Hollow Knight tries to move, to lift their arm. The appendage raises according to their will, trembling violently and falling to the floor not even a second later but there's nothing aside from their exhaustion holding them back or setting their entire system ablaze. It has to be. The Infection left. As hard to believe as it is… the Radiance.. She's gone. They can't feel Her anymore. The Darkness took over. Her light has been extinguished, at long last. In their mind they can feel a large hole, an empty space where She used to reside but this emptiness feels... good.

Happy. No, that's not the right word to call the emotion that assaults them, making them want to scream and weep, and laugh out loud all at the same time while being able to do only the second part. Struggling to form a forbidden thought, fighting the still present fever, they search for the right name for this one. Ecstatic? Yeah, that feels more like it.. However, the Hollow Knight doesn't spare time to rejoice. If they do they soon too will be gone.

Clenching their jaws, the mangled Vessel attempts to lift themself on their remaining arm but the weakened appendage gives out underneath their meager weight as though it was made of jelly. Unfortunately, their armor wasn't making the whole thing easier. The fall leaves them disoriented and stunned for a moment until they feel something wet pooling beneath their face. Forcing their head, which seems to weigh far too much, as though it was made out of lead, to turn, they see black. Void. Void spilling from their wounds and their right eye where their shell had cracked. Not the pus but pure Void. As black as it could ever be. It was… both comforting in color and disconcerting in amount. Losing that much life essence would kill a normal bug at least six times over. They needed to try something different before their Shade slips free from its confines to rejoin the Abyssal Sea. Focusing on a Healing spell was out of question with how drained of energy they were. Attempts to pull themself back to their knees also yield no results aside from agonizing stabs through the torn chitin on their chest where the cysts once were and left deep, bleeding holes after they'd bursted. Not all tumors were gone just yet. Some were still there, throbbing and scorching them with the now apparently caustic fluids.

Enough with this cursed plague! Without care for their own wellbeing, only wanting the Infection finally OUT, the Hollow Knight makes their conscious decision, rolls slightly to the side to have a more or less clear view and focuses their anger on the remaining cysts.. Their shivering hand wanders over to the last cluster of Infection still anchored to their body and hovers there for a single beat.. It's better to get this done with before they change their mind. In one swift motion, sharp tips of their claws sink into their own flesh. One drag is enough to tear deep gashes in the mutated membrane. The pustules split open with a sensation not dissimilar to being ran through with a white hot iron bar. The Hollow Knight gasps in pain, with a pang of worry realising that their breathing remained loud, ragged and unsettling. No wonder. After all this, most of their organs were likely severely damaged if not ceased to function at all. Orange liquid quickly drains from the self-inflicted wounds before being replaced by Void. It wasn't one of their finest moments, it hurt like hell but they didn't want this blasted stuff inside of them for a single second longer. Now, they were left still stuck splayed out on the floor and bleeding out at an alarming rate. They don't have much time left. Looking around, noting the lack of Infected veins and bubbles, they let their eyes linger on their old, trusty nail. If that doesn't work, then nothing will.

Scraping their head through the dust that accumulated on the floor throughout years, the Hollow Knight crawls to their discarded weapon, leaving a trail of quickly dissipating Void in their wake, and heaves themself up to get a hold of the hilt. Any second, they feared the chains would shoot out to trap them again but no such thing happened. Only two fo the longer sections remained attached to their shoulder pads and were dragging behind them. The Infection was eradicated. The purpose of the Temple fulfilled. As was theirs. Their hand trembles but otherwise holds fast as they pull up onto their knees, still wheezing dreadfully. For so long, the Hollow Knight ceaselessly begged all Higher Beings for the blessing of death, wishing their nail was in their reach so that they could end their own misery. Now… here it was in their grasp. Waiting, taunting. All it takes is one stab. Just one little push… You failed. Disappointment. Pick it up, turn the tip towards their already open chest and drive the blade through their heart. No one would miss a failure like you. The Vessel's hand tightens around the nail. It would be so easy… Just a second and it will be over. You're already as good as dead. Their task had come to an end. There's nothing more for them here. Do it!

Slowly, the Hollow Knight forces themself to stand on their weak and shaky legs, using their unkempt weapon as a crutch instead. Too late for that now. If they have to die, they'd rather do so out in the open. Everywhere but in this grave. All limbs hurt. The pain is insufferable… Do not feel.. They breathe raggedly, letting the sharp throbbing subside. Can they even make it to the outside world? What if the Dreamer Seals linger still? Do not think… No thoughts. Pick a destination. The entrance to the Egg. Don't ponder over it. Endure.

First steps come with difficulty - they hadn't walked in years and their legs feel as though the Infection has hollowed them out - they stumble and fall to their knees more than once but never give up. They refused to give up ever again. Eventually, each next step becomes easier as they drag their husk of a crippled body towards the doorway - the chains singing their grim song against the floor behind them - where their father disappeared all those years ago. Even now, after all the suffering they'd endured, the Hollow Knight hoped the Pale King is still out there somewhere. If so then the chances are once he realises the Radiance is no more, he will return to reclaim his Kingdom without the threat of the Infection hanging grimly over his head. And when that day comes, they will meet again. And after that, they will find mother too. And apologise for their defeat. Maybe they will even grant the Hollow Knight the forgiveness they don't deserve? Yes, that sounds good… If they live up to this moment, that is.. If not, then maybe their parents will at least lay their body to rest? Still, the thought of their father being dead and gone forever nearly makes them give in and fall again, unwilling to keep pushing forward. No. The Pale King is a God. It's not a trivial task to kill a Higher Being. They know it. He has to be alive. Doesn't he? Clinging to this tiny ray of hope, the Hollow Knight staggers through the dark corridor of the Temple, heading towards the light at the end where the (thank Wyrm!) opened door awaits.

A wave of stale air smelling of dirt crashes over them at the entrance and almost makes them cry with relief. No more sweet stench of Her plague. This is really happening.. Begging their weak body to hold on just a wee bit longer, they push towards their freedom. Though, no matter how hard they tried, their armor was slowing them down and making moving around difficult. In an attempt to spare the rapidly diminishing reserves of their strength, the Hollow Knight uses their claws to slash through the straps holding their shoulder pads in place they clumsily fight to unclip their ruined breastplate. With how it was bent out torn open and completely eaten through by the acidic Infection, it comes off without much difficulty and soon each armor piece hits the floor with a series of metallic clangs.

To be honest, the Vessel had no delusions they would survive this. Only one look at the ruptured chitin on their chest told them everything. After tearing the last pustules open they could've sworn for a moment they'd seen their heart trembling inside but it might as well have been a hallucination. In any case, they were too severely injured to pull through without aid and considering the sorry state of Hallownest, that is not happening. Even if they could call for help, they doubt anyone would heed their desperate pleas. Disoriented by the disappearance of the Infection and scared, any survivors, who aren't in equally as sorry state as them, are likely to head in the opposite direction. Besides, they couldn't imagine anyone would dare to touch the disgusting mess of a broken being they are now. At least… they will die happy, out in the open, gazing out at their homeland. Knowing it is safe and that they have their twin to thank for it. And that the ghost of their mistakes doesn't hold a grudge for the wrong they'd done.

A glimpse of red. A moving figure, just outside. Some strange sense of familiarity lights up a spark in the Hollow Knight's mind. Just a few more steps… After what felt like an eternity, the hero of Hallownest emerges from the Black Egg that was their and Her prison for so long and comes face to face with the shadow of their past. The Weaver clad in red dress took on a defensive stance and drew a needle once they leaned heavily against their nail, trying to steady their breathing. Red dress.. needle… strands of silk angrily lashing behind.. mask as pale as the King's.. Far more adult than they remember but still familiar. It cannot be.

It cannot be that for once since this madness had begun, the Hollow Knight has a stroke of good luck. Their tired eyes land on the one they remember as a small, temperamental girl. The spiderling princess of Deepnest. Even though the passage of time changed her, there can be no mistake. It was her. Their sister. Hornet… No longer a girl, but a young adult. How long has it truly been? And there was utter shock painted across her face once she realised that she's looking at her long lost, stoic sibling who was taken from her when she was a child. No aggressive glow in their eyes. Only soothing black, silently asking for help. What little strength they had left finally abandons them as they fall over face first again, smiling to themself inwardly. What a happy coincidence. Not only will death claim them free and at peace but in the presence of their beloved baby sister. Despite what they'd been expecting, they don't hit the floor. Instead, their body collapsed straight into Hornet's arms. How she didn't keel over underneath the weight of their much larger form was a mystery.

A firm grip on their shoulders, a pair of strong hands hardened by years of combat cautiously lower them to the kneeling position as a concerned Hornet fills their entire vision. How similar to their father she is… The same hands cup their face, just like Her wings had before (don't think about it, don't panic, it's just Hornet! They reprimanded themself when they begin to tremble), to make them look ta her. Clearly, she's saying something to them in a very frantic non-Hornet-like fashion but they can no longer hear. Her fingers gently caress the Hollow Knight's forehead, deliberately avoiding the crack in their shell and the spilling Void that could potentially kill her as the other hand rests on the underside of their mask. Such a gentle, loving gesture.. unfamiliar yet so… comforting… Each touch sends a delighted tremor through Hollow Knight's succumbing body. They didn't know one could be missing something that was never received in the first place. Yet, here they are. Yes.. yes, now they are ready. They are ready to go.. Were it not for Hornet, they wouldn't have managed to keep their head up. When they cough and wheeze, she starts speaking again. And this time bits and pieces do get through to the Hollow Knight.

"...-be alright-... -...ust hold on…!"

Weakly, the Vessel nuzzles their face into her touch as they heave in attempts to take another breath. Maybe the Hollow Knight was ready to face death but it doesn't mean they weren't afraid of it. They truly want to reassure Hornet that all will indeed be alright. But they can't. It's terribly cold out here… Flashes of images, glimpses of faces pass through their mind. Every bug they'd known well and those they met only once as well. As colorless and empty as their life had been, it was.. good. They lived a good life...

Then, suddenly, it's not Hornet they're looking at anymore. A luminous form of a small bug with multiple sleek horns shaping into a crown on the top of his head. The Pale King stands there with an aghast expression and holds their heavy head in his blackened hands making his child stare in bewilderment. He looked so real! But it cannot be him.. The feverish mind of he Vessel doesn't seem to care though. Am I dead already...? Black eyes in the pale face of their father watch the dying Hollow Knight with anguish gleaming in them. He’d never looked at them like this.. To hell with their Pure Vessel facade, they’re dying anyway... What does it matter at this point? An uncontrollable shiver makes them seize in pain rippling through their whole body as they swallow the black liquid filling their mouth and they lift their shaking hand to surprisingly firmly grasp the front of Pale King’s robes to keep him here just a little longer. The fabric seems.. strange to the touch...

Father, don't leave..

They want to call what they wished to years ago when they didn't have the courage to but.. No voice to cry suffering. The darkness is upon them and there's nothing in sight that could stop it. It was a miracle they lived long enough to crawl out of the Temple. If they were a normal bug so heavily Infected, they wouldn't have gotten up from where they'd fallen at all. Their last regret was that after all this, they will leave their twin behind. Again. And do so without so much as a single "thank you" for everything they'd done. But Gods... they were so tired.. Leaning forward the Hollow Knight rests their head on their father’s shoulder, possibly ruining the robe in the process with the Void leaking from their shell. Even if it was just the figment of their imagination, they didn’t care. To die peacefully, whether it be in the arms of Hornet or his father, was more than they could ask for or ever deserve. They breathe out with relief and for the first time in an eternity slip away into the embrace of sleep without fear in their heart, never expecting to wake up again.

Please, forgive me... All of you...

To their utter astonishment… they do. First thing they register is warmth. Not the burning fire of the disease tearing at their every nerve. A soft, comforting warmth filling up their entire being. Air around is hot and humid. Without opening their eyes, the Hollow Knight draws a loud breath that sounds kind of like a suffocating Vengefly. Strangely enough, the dense air does not hurt their damaged lungs. Quite the opposite. It spreads around their respiratory system like a balm, easing the burning left by Her plague. So long… so long since they felt any sort of something pleasant.. They could stay like this in the warmth forever and everything else can shove off with the odd, stinging pressure in their belly taking the lead. If only they could breathe easier… It takes barely a split of a second after their sudden wheeze for a pair of hands to rest on the sides of their head to steady it.

"No, no, don't you dare! Hornet's gonna tear my face off if you die!"

No memory of a name comes to mind with this male voice that sounds as though it was coming from behind a glass wall. As much as they want to remain inert, the Hollow Knight forces their eyes to pry open, wincing inwardly at the bright white glow of Soul surrounding everything, emanating from the… water they're in? A hot spring? Absent-mindedly noting they cannot see with their right eye as something was draped over it, the Hollow Knight looks up at… exactly, who? Looming over them upside down and still holding their head, was a hooded warrior with big white eyes. An ant most likely, judging by features. The unfamiliarity of the face made Hollow Knight tense in agitation but their limbs were unresponsive and aching, refusing to move. The stranger firmly held their head still even as they began to stir.

"Easy there. Not gonna hurt you. I'm a friend."

A friend? The no-longer-Sealed Vessel isn't sure what this means but they assume it's a good thing. The Pale King more than once called either one of the Five, or the future Dreamers (except for Herrah as she was the mother of his daughter) a "friend" with fondness in his voice when in good mood. Besides, if this ant really knows Hornet.. If they were being honest, the Hollow Knight was much too spent to feel threatened or try to analyse the situation to determine whether the ant does pose any threat or not. They ceased their struggling to continue wheezing heavily, fighting for air. Seems like it's not going away anytime soon.. With their every breath, the warrior's frown was deepening.

"No clue what battered you like that but I don't wanna meet it."

And you won't… The Hollow Knight thinks to themself with a sense of relief washing over them. She really is gone. They weren't sure what their twin did and how but they'd done it. No more Infection. No more pain. No more struggle.. A silent hope that they might have gotten a second chance makes them slump in the warm water working on their injuries. This warmth causes them to grow awfully sleepy, maybe they really did lose too much "blood" and were actually dying, but the stranger above them was determined to keep them in the waking world.

"For the love of- No! Stay with me! Hornet will kill me if you don't!"

Hornet.. The sound of her name somewhat keeps them from passing out. She must've been the one to bring them here. Then... it can’t have been their father they were seeing earlier... Just like they thought, their imagination was merely playing tricks on them, reshaping Hornet’s already similar features into those of the Pale Wyrm, and all this time it was her. Where did she go? Hornet wouldn't leave without a good reason… Speaking of which-..

TISO! Back the fuck off!"

Familiar, yet far more mature voice of Hollow Knight's younger sister almost brings small rocks raining down from the ceiling, making the ant in question jump away from them. As unexpected as her arrival is, it brings the Vessel peace and a sense of security.

"Okay, WOW! First you literally drag me down here by my antennae and now you yell at me for actually helping? Rude."

"May I remind you you owe me a favor? Now shut up and move."

"Geez, calm down princess! Your buddy was just breathing very loudly, I legitimately thought they're choking or something."

"I still don't trust you."

"Then why the FUCK-...?!"

As if to prove Tiso's point, the Hollow Knight descended into a fit of rattling coughs when they tried to move to see their sister, unintentionally making the strain in their stomach worse, proceeding to wheeze horribly afterwards. The Infection took a lot out of them… The arguing duo ceased in an instant (though the Hollow Knight could've sworn they felt the energy of "didn't I tell you" radiating off of the smug ant). Hornet didn't wait before walking into the hot spring and helping her older sibling sit up. Everything protests at the movement, especially their chest - now, like the stump of their arm, bound in bandages made of Weaver silk - but they don't stop her. They close their eyes as she does, breathing deeply until the painful wheezes slowly turn into nearly soundless huffs. Still, they feel and hear their breath eerily whistling in their lungs.

"That's it, keep breathing. It'll be alright. Here. This should help."

Out of a hidden pocket in her red dress she brandishes a bottle filled with gently glowing blue liquid. Lifeblood. So that's what she'd gone for.. The Hollow Knight blinks at the vial she holds, waiting for permission out of habit. They aren't quite sure if there is a point to keep the play up, especially before Hornet but… old habits die hard. Doing things without being prompted still felt... weird and uncomfortable. It causes a moment of awkward silence before Hornet frowns, seemingly catching a wind of what's going on, and brings the bottle closer to them.

"Take it. Drink."

In a beat the Hollow Knight seems to spring back to life and follows her instructions without any signs of hesitation. They down the blue concoction, bitter and by no means savory but they don't mind it. One, they aren't used to showing discomfort, two, they'd take the bitter over sweet and rotten any day. In comparison to the Infection, the Lifeblood was the best thing they'd tasted in a while. And true enough, the blue liquid works its magic quite quickly. The sharp throbbing of their wounds that the spring's power reduced to a bearable ache seemed to ease even more and some part of their strength returned to them. Honestly, they never understood why their father was so skeptical and untrusting towards the Lifeblood… On the other hand though, the Hollow Knight hangs their head low and grasps at their chest when they suddenly begin to feel awfully sick again.

"Hollow, are you-...?"

She starts but they silence her by lifting up their remaining hand when the familiar, sweetness dangerously quickly wells up in their throat. Oh no.. On an instinct, the Hollow Knight twists around and lurches forward, heaving out the contents of their stomach onto the cave floor. An unbelievably large amount of vibrant orange fluid mixed with freshly consumed Lifeblood and a little bit of Void makes its way out of the inside of their body, drawing disgusted groans from both witnesses. Well... so much for the Lifeblood treatment...

"EUGH! How the hell did all that stuff even fit inside this guy?!"

Mildly horrified Tiso asked the question into the air as Hornet, equally disturbed, didn't seem too eager to answer. The Hollow Knight was, thankfully, done in seconds and breathed out with relief once the tension left their stomach as the - hopefully - last traces of the Infection were expelled from their system. That feels so much better… As gross as the sticky substance was, the Hollow Knight found strange joy in watching the color fade into dull brown and eventually black before evaporating once and for all. Another proof. Though, the unpleasant aftertaste still lingered..

Sh-shit, I'm about to throw up too..."

With his hand over his mouth, Tiso quickly runs out of the cavern after the display and the smell left his own stomach very upset. The Hollow Knight isn't all that surprised. No one's going to try and convince the poor ant that what has just transpired wasn't thoroughly disgusting. Hornet merely rolled her eyes and returned her attention to her weakened sibling.

"How do you feel? Are you okay now?"

Never mind all the wounds which will surely leave awful scars. Never mind the dizziness that will eventually pass. Never mind the no longer existing right arm. The Hollow Knight looked Hornet straight in the eye but remained stone still, without a clue how to say it without words. Despite all the pain and the memories of suffering still fresh in their mind, they have never felt like this before. No more waking nightmares. No more Infection. No more Her. No more chains and bindings. Freedom. Peace. Safety. They are going to live to see another day and if the luck wishes to be on their side again, they will reunite with their father, mother and their sibling. Here they are, no threat in sight, beside their baby sister… "Okay" fails to describe one third of it.

"Hollow?"

Again, she called them this, trying to coax a response from the stiff voidling. And to be honest, it felt… nice. It was no longer the title mocking their existence but a sense of familiarity in it was putting the Vessel at ease. There's no need to pretend in front of Hornet. Who were they kidding, she certainly knew from the very beginning. And now she spoke this word as though it was a name like any other. The Hollow Knight never had a name. Though, they remember the Pale King accidentally calling them like this for short a couple times. Another fond memory. Yes. Yes, they like it that way.. They like that very much.

At Hornet's impatient and concerned prodding, Hollow bowed their much larger head until theirs and their sister's horns connected with an empty clunk. She seemed rather… shocked to say the least, judging by the look on her face. But fortunately the message was clear.

"You're ah... welcome, I guess.."

In response they only stared at her until she finally took a seat on the edge of the pool of healing water with her legs submerged. Hollow never had many interactions with people aside from following commands and watching their affairs from the side lines. Yet, there were moments, like after a particularly bad training session, when they received a gentle touch, most often from their mother. Root had a natural affinity to heal and she couldn't help but give into her motherly instincts when she saw her child hurting. Unfortunately, only until the young Pure Vessel managed to hone their skills to Focus Soul into healing injuries. And not so long ago Hornet was lightly stroking their head as they were knocking on death's door in her arms. Is this alright to ask her to do it again?

Uncertain, Hollow rested their heavy head beside where she sat, watching her out of the corner of their uncovered eye, the other wrapped up in Void-stained silk. Their memories of Hornet seemed so distant… The little girl with definitely too large amounts of energy stored within her tiny body was all over the Palace whenever she visited and she always found ways to sneak away to bother them. Not that they minded it. When Hollow found out the spiderling is their half sister from another mother, they took it as a point of honor to watch over her whenever they could, glad every time their father told them to do so. As cold and distant as he was, Hollow knew they loved their father, they just didn't know how to name this emotion yet. To feel safe and happy, to feel one would do anything for the person subjected to it.. With Hornet it felt… different. While they - metaphorically, of course - looked up to the Pale King, respected him and never doubted his words, every time Hornet was in sight they felt the same joyous warmth that came from the presence of either of their parents but laced with a protective instinct. They would follow the princess of Deepnest to hell and back if she asked them to and make sure she returns unscathed. Turns out, it is her who has to keep watch over them. How the tides have turned…

A small, lively child she always was, Hornet feared nothing and never backed out from any challenge. She even had a phase for a couple of months in the past when she declared she will kill the Infection for her dad on her own and it left the poor King utterly stressed out and terrified, ready to launch himself behind his cocky daughter at any moment so that Herrah doesn't gut him for being a "sorry excuse of a parent who can't even do his job properly". Memories like this bring the invisible smile to their face... Hollow couldn't imagine she would change much as she grew up. But it seems they still don't know their sister all that well.. With barely any noticeable hesitation she surprised her older sibling by lifting their head to her lap.

"I never thought I'd see you again. Let alone alive.."

She said more to herself than to anyone else as she rested her hand between their horns like they used to do to her when she was little. Uninfected. This word never left her mouth, as though saying it out loud would break the spell, but Hollow somehow knew that's what she meant. Nuzzled into the soft, albeit a bit worn dress and warmed by the magical waters of the hot spring, Hollow found a wave of unimaginable exhaustion, coming from years of being locked away with the Goddess of Dreams tormenting them, finally crashing over their broken body. After everything they've been through, they wanted and deserved to finally sleep in peace. But while before they were sure they were falling asleep never to return to the land of the living again and were okay with it, now some small, seemingly insignificant vestiges of fear lingered in the back of their psyche. They were plainly afraid of falling asleep. Hollow never wanted to have to stand before the Radiance ever again. However, this fear melted away with gentle strokes of Hornet's hand on their shell and the other one rubbing circles into their back to put them at ease the moment she noticed them fighting with their weariness.

"Hey, it's okay. She will never hurt you again."

Hollow knew this. They'd felt the Radiance at her strongest fall, even though they never thought it possible. Seems like the word "impossible" does not exist in their twin's dictionary.. But still, the fear was always there. What if I was wrong? What if this is just another hallucination? Those what ifs scared them all the same no matter what they'd seen and lived through. They knew that it's finally over. But they had to hear someone else say it with certainty. To make them believe. And Hornet's stern but sympathetic voice along with her comforting touch did just that. Finding new strength in their sore limbs, Hollow clambered up a little further onto the shore but not out of the warm water to lay more comfortably with their head still resting on Hornet's lap, and awkwardly reached around her waist with their left arm to snuggle up even closer like a desperate child they never had a chance to be. They weren't sure if they're doing the "hug-thing" right but it worked nonetheless. It took the fear away, soothed the ache of their shattered soul. With utmost certainty, they knew this was an emotion they liked feeling now that no one is here to judge them. Maybe they were wrong. Perhaps there's still a reason to keep going? Hornet never ceased caressing them and soon, Hollow found themself calmly falling asleep on her thighs with the last words they heard before slipping into the blessedly dreamless sleep ringing in their ears like a lullaby, the long forgotten tune of a small music box that the White Lady was so fond of...

…You are safe…

Out from the winding tunnels of Crossroads and into a cavern housing the healing waters of the hot spring, a pitch black shadow slithers across the ground like a serpent towards two sleeping figures slumped against one another. The temperature dips noticeably as it creeps closer to the Protector of Hallownest and the Hollow Knight resting at the shore oblivious to any form of danger while the hooded ant - saved from certain death by Hornet herself under the insistence of the Pale Wanderer - slumbers beneath an opposite wall with his arms crossed not to intrude on this peaceful moment. The shadow's attention is focused on the pair of pale siblings however. It raises and collapses in on itself like a liquid given life as it silently crawls up to the sleeping duo.

Reaching their side, the shadow begins to rise up from the ground and rapidly swell in size. The shapeless substance forms into a massive body with four, clawed arms, a large head adorned with multiple ghostly horns and dark tendrils swaying lightly from the creature's back. It stands tall on two animalistic legs half obscured by an ethereal robe melding perfectly with its torso and looms over the siblings, casting no shadow. If anything, its body is so dark that the light seems to bend around it. Eight, brilliant white eyes open in a faceless head and blink slowly, one pair after another. The Abyssal horror, blacker than anything existing in this world, composed of Void in its purest form and shape, barely fits in this cave but doesn't seem to care. It watches both the Void born creature and the half-spider for a couple seconds before its numerous eyes crinkle in something resembling a smile.

. . . S a f e . . .

The Void rumbles satisfied. Carefully, the giant lays something beside them - a small, pale mask split in two - and begins to focus. In barely half a minute, the dark menace shrinks and loses its intimidating shape once more in favor of sliding into the cracked shell, reforming a tiny body in a dark grey cloak tattered from long travels. As though it was the most natural thing in the world, the Ghost of Hallownest picks up the other half of their mask and as the last bits of their true form compress within their broken head they lift the missing piece and without any effort mend the crack that used to run through the middle of their face, leaving but a faint scar behind. This form was way too small, they could feel the Void pressing against it from the inside uncomfortably but for now it will have to do. Though, they liked this body and were very used to it. Maybe they could just make it grow properly in the near future?

With that transformation done, the warmth returns to the cavern. Casually, Ghost shuffles closer to their last remaining siblings and - mindful of numerous recently healed wounds Hollow bears - cuddles against Hornet's side next to Hollow's arm, careful not to wake up either of their siblings in the process. Especially Hollow. They need their rest the most. Actually, it's new to see Hornet of all people peacefully sleeping with the Hollow Knight's head on her lap. All of the sudden she seemed far less scary than the little vessel found her during their first meeting in Greenpath, though that may have something to do with their newfound Godhood. With a quiet sigh, Ghost lets their eyes slip closed but doesn't fall asleep. Their Ascension, although it brought unthinkable power that let them tear apart the Goddess of Dreams, left them utterly spent. Rooting out the Infection was not an evening stroll... But they have no desire to sleep. Not yet. For now, they're content with listening to breaths and heartbeats of their siblings. After cutting their way through the entire Pantheon of Hallownest in order to save this land, to save their lost twin, they feel like they've earned this moment of respite. Woe be upon any who thinks otherwise.. Eventually however, even the God of Gods gives into their exhaustion and falls into a deep slumber beside their siblings, knowing both of them are safe. Hallownest is safe. They all are..

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First try at drawing a proper background! Woo! Before you ask, I didn't give Ghost a shadow on purpose, I'm not that oblivious XD

[darkpoisonouslove]

Riven x Musa

Ok, so I keep seeing posts everywhere that basically badmouth S8 and after seeing ten seconds of the trailer (YIKES to the animation, what’s wrong with the industry that they are making everything anime? Powerpuff Gen Z, I’m looking at you – obs: I didn’t watch it fully yet) I can see where some of the criticism is coming from but anyways…

My favorite Winx!couple EVER has always been Musa x Riven since I was kid and first watched the show (Netflix is not helping ‘cause I ship them even there).

I remember yawning at Bloom/Sky, rolling my eyes at Stella/Brandom and making a completely incredulous expression that I could literally feel forming on my face at Helia/Flora (can anyone say ‘unrealistic’?). Timmy/Tecna are a second favorite.

And why my Winx OTP are Riven x Musa followed after Timmy x Tecna? Because it reflects real life. In real life you’re not gonna stumble into people whose real and deep relationship problems are solved in twenty four minutes (not even that considering that some episodes present the “problem” half-way through said 24 minute-episode).

The breakup between Riven and Musa in S6 (spoilers everywhere after all) was one of the most mature breakups in the history of breakups with the hope for the future (yes, I’m completely ignoring S7, sue me, the whole thing was one huge filler anyways). And, after reading a lot of opinions on both ends (defending Musa/attacking Riven and defending Riven/attacking Musa) and watching the episodes in question (reuniting through reconciling) I think I can give my own analysis.

Since Musa AND Riven (individually and as couple) are my favorite characters in Winx, I think I CAN give a fairly unbiased view (hopefully).

*clears throat*

Ok, keep in mind that I’m defending BOTH of them, because I ship them too hard not to.

Musa Being OC (sometimes being called ‘brat’): C'mon, people! Musa and Tecna are OC since S4 anyways, where are the tomboy and the nerd? With the sneakers, T-shirt and comfortable-looking clothes? Noooo, now they all need neat skirts and hot pink high heels and long, glamorous hair. Do they look good? Of course, but and I would totally be less pissed if there was ANY indication on the reason for the change. Are they just maturing? Expressing themselves differently? Crowd mentality? Tune and Stella finally broke Musa down and Tecna followed soon after? Was it just to please Riven and Timmy? ANYTHING (even the 'pleasing a boy’ would at least be A reason - a ridiculous one that would piss me off, but A reason none the less), was just a sudden impulse that took?

Sure, we can talk about “character growth” until we are blue in the face, but the matter of the fact is that there was none.

The changes we see in Musa and Tecna are basically the creators making them more like the rest of the Winx (I’m including Aisha in this too, where is the sporty girl that matched the boy’s interest in extreme sports? C'mon! Even Bloom and her Girl Next Door looks are replaced with Bratz and Clueless-level of outfits).

Is anyone really going to look me in the eye and say Stella wasn’t a shallow (if friendly and good-natured) Mean Girl? She got better, but as I re-watch the show (currently in S3, meaning almost half-way through the content), Stella still worries more about her hair than anything else even while under literal fire.

More and more, Musa, Tecna and Aisha are losing their identities and what made them, IMO, the more badass Winx.

How did the two on the left went from this…

… to this:

Yeah, yeah, Musa still sings, Tecna still technobabble and Aisha is still a Warrior Princess but Aisha was the first one to go Bloom and Stella on us with Musa and then Tecna following soon after. It’s not just their clothing style, it’s the way they carried themselves too.

Right now? The only thing keeping them apart is their BF blues (different kind of blues) and some personal interests (singing, shopping, tech, the whole drama with Domino/Sparks, etc). But that’s IT, their personalities are going down the drain!

Sorry for the long-winded text, but the reason I’m expressing my disappointment at their change is because Musa’s reaction fits it. S6 we have such an AMAZING breakup (didn’t even think that was possible, WTH, right? Amazing breakup?) only for her to be mad as hell at Riven at S8? Bad writing, that has been dragging her (and the rest of the Winx) down to becoming just one unilateral, shallow character (the Specialists are also falling into that pit, what in the world did they do Helia in S8? He sounds like Thor telling about his “brave exploits” there, yikes). And continuity what? What continuity? Do they even remember how the breakup was written?

But ok, let’s put the Audience View aside for a moment and focus only on the In-Universe terms.

S6: You’ll always be my hero.

S8: What on EARTH are you doing here. 

I laughed a bit, the contrast just got to me but instead of getting mad at one or the other like most of the fandom, I laughed.

Musa followed that by saying that Riven has not maintained contact and just in that I would be beyond pissed as well and giving my support to Musa. WTH, Riven? I think that each season is more less six months to a year? Sort of? Still, zero contact for so long even after ending on amicable terms and wanting to stay friends? And he went off on his own! A text now going, “I’m not dead” would be the bare basics for Musa not to worry herself bald!

BUT then I also read comments about how this was a two-way street, why didn’t Musa call either? That’s unfortunately something that I very much doubt will ever be explained. One of those: did it or didn’t it? Musa could have called and went straight to voicemail with no signs of life from Riven or she might not have called and just expected him to call as if feminism were dead and all initiative must come from the guy (which doesn’t even fit because they parted as friends).

Since we have no info on the above, I put it on both of them. It’s not fair to say, “HE should have called!” or “Why didn’t SHE call?” because we don’t have fricking context. So the only thing we can take is: no contact.

BECAUSE I put the lack of contact on both of them, Musa’s reaction was a little too much, however, Riven shows up all smirks and leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and I would have flashbacks to S1 if it wasn’t for the animation style that made all the guys look like girls. Dude! Not the time for that kind of posture. Not saying that he should be all sheepish and rubbing his arm as if he had done something horrible (again: we don’t have context on the no contact) but a more neutral approach was warranted here. Nobody does themselves any favors with that kind of attitude no matter what how high of a horse they may be (rightly or not) riding on, if anything I would react like Musa solely on that one.

Next episode we have that Riven convinced the guys to follow the girls in some mission and Musa was angry. Again: I would be too. WTH? Yes, yes, they helped and if it wasn’t for them, the Winx would gotten seriously injured but Musa did have a point saying that this demonstrated that they had no trust in them and need their hand held, it was no sanctioned mission like on Earth after all. BUT, Riven does something that I would never expect from in S1-4: he explains, he reasons it, he puts it in all the words that he does trust Musa and co and that he only wanted to show that he’d be there for her (you know? One of the main issues in S6 that made them breakup in the first place? His inability to conciliate Specialist work with supporting his girlfriend and ultimately failing or feeling like failing in both?) and Musa still pouts, crosses her arms, and turns around. Geez. I expected that one from Stella, not Musa. I think the closest Musa has ever come to THIS was back in S2 when Jared explains that Riven was the one to recommend that he interview Musa and yada yada yada and she got mad and stomped off on the poor guy that didn’t even understand what was going on (only to immediately apologize to Jared and recognizing that it wasn’t him that she was mad at… like I said: what character growth?).

Riven then goes to show that he indeed grew when he asked for advice from Sky and Brandon (WTH, right? Can we picture that happening back in S1-3? He very grudgingly would LISTEN to UNSOLICITED advice from Nabu and Helia in S4-6). And does a very, very goofy and embarrassing show of affection. Yeah… again… I can picture Stella loving the light show with her face for IDK how many people to see but not Musa (although can we really blame the guy after the series went out of its way to make Musa all Stella-like? Clothes, attitude, the only thing missing is making Riven carry her shopping bags around and call him “Shnookums” (although the mental image is already enough for me to fall over laughing, just for the face Riven would make). Still, I have to count that one against Riven if only because (as much as the show gives only lip service to it) Musa isn’t Stella.

Riven being mind controlled (again) aside, those two are back together. And on the overall? Riven showed more growth than any other character in the show COMBINED (he is the Zuko of the show), that doesn’t go to say that he didn’t make mistakes since coming back in S8 (but that was more a guy trying to win back a girl than… betraying his friends for a pair of nice legs or… IDEK like in S1 – where, mind control or not the show itself made sure to make it clear that he had free will) or that he is now the one out of Musa’s league. I think that NOW it can actually work… if the show allows him to keep the progress, Musa is the next to see her flaws and work on them (which she showed to be able to do since S2) and put effort in the relationship. The difference between them is that Musa can actually work on herself and the relationship at the same time. That’s not me saying she is better than Riven in any way, everybody has their own pace and their own way to cope, to improve and to self-reflect.

I still root for them.

~*~

PS-IDK why, but I read posts about how Riven changed so much and posts about how all his progress disappeared and he is now back to his S1 attitude and I’m just cofused. Yeah, different of opinions and so on, but such opposite opinions on the subject of a guy whose relationship was focused on three episodes? 

[recentanimenews]

OPINION: Why Hitoshi Shinso Deserves To Be The Number One Hero

  Hitoshi Shinso is the people’s hero. Despite being equipped with a dastardly brainwashing quirk and being constantly subjected to the perverse imaginations of those around him, Shinso always rises above the temptation of villainy and strives to become the hero that he alone knows he can be. And yes, his quirk does not provide any superhuman strength or any flashy, dimension-breaking ability; however, he could still become the world’s greatest hero with the right amount of imagination and clever thinking. In many ways, he is what I would consider a “limitless” hero that, when unbound by storylines or weighed down by Class 1-A’s plot armor, could take on the League of Villains, All-For-One, you name it, and make it back in time for curfew.

  Before jumping to defend against any slanderous evidence attempting to refute his omnipotence, I want to highlight why Shinso would be ideal for replacing All Might as the new Symbol of Peace. First and foremost, Shinso understands the struggles of the ordinary person. As someone who has lived along the straight and narrow path while following his moral compass, he is fully aware of the importance of power, and the consequences quirks can come with. For every student enrolled at U.A.’s hero course that can spit acid, shock those within a 100-yard radius, or take down a multi-storied building, there are just as many others with similarly dangerous powers who will not have the luxury of maturing their quirks with the guidance of mentors. Instead of blanketing over difficult situations with a shallow smile as All Might once did, Shinso would illuminate the apparent challenges that heroes face today. As he faces a moral quandary literally every time he uses his power, he would be the perfect advocate for quirk acceptance, empowerment, and mindfulness.

    Additionally, as he is more humble in his appearance and approach to solving problems, Shinso would motivate those around him to self-improvement. Whereas All Might lulled the previous society’s inhabitants into a false sense of complacency by being an unreachable ceiling of protection, Shinso would elevate those around him. As a student climbing the ranks of U.A. while struggling to harness a power with a penchant for chaos rather than peace, he would show how hard work and diligence could overcome talent, as well as the less-than-quantifiable quirks many people in My Hero Academia have. If the League of Villains or Overhaul and his gang of cronies ever try messing with the peace again, the city can rest in peace, knowing that there will undoubtedly be many more new heroes inspired by Shinso’s upbringing ready to take on these forces of evil.

  Honestly, I think it would be more enjoyable to watch a complex, imperfect character like Shinso shine at the forefront of My Hero Academia. Even during the U.A. Sports Festival, he had intelligently thought through his strategies (as well as made peace with his moral constitution) to winning the whole tournament — and up until Deku was bailed out by the ghosts of One-for-All past, he may very well have achieved his goal. But, I digress; I’m just happy this season marked a glow-up for our 1-C sweetheart. It’s pretty awesome there is someone like him to root for. I can’t wait to see what else he does this season.

    … and now onto my mini Q&A on why Shinso could kick every other hero/villain’s butt!  

Q. Isn’t his superpower just a gimmick? Doesn’t the enemy win if they know not to reply to his questions?

  A. True, he’d always be at a disadvantage in a spontaneous fight. Still, Shinso has shown glimpses of quick wit and off-the-cuff improvisation in this latest season. With the help of his two new tools, the Artificial Vocal Cords and Capturing Weapon, many possibilities open up in the way of psychological warfare. By prolonging the fight using his capturing weapon and probing his enemy for their weak points, I do not doubt that Shinso would be able to trap and defeat his opponent.

  Q. Wait, psychological warfare? I thought he was supposed to be a good guy.

  A. True, psychological warfare can be pretty damaging and falls under a grey area, but Shinso has said before that he would do anything to defeat a villain. As long as he doesn’t use his powers to, I don’t know, rob a bank or something, I reserve the right to consider Shinso as a pretty good guy.

  Q. Okay, Alex, riddle me this: What if the enemy Shinso faces is deaf or utilizes sensory deprivation?

A. All right, smart guy, I failed physics in college and have zero authority on how this would work, but when you boil it down, sound waves are just another form of energy, right? And energy of any kind can be converted into electricity, right? And how does our brain compute thought? Electricity. In a couple of years, I’m sure Mei Hatsume will find some way to let him communicate/throw his voice via electric waves. So uh, yeah. QED.

  And that’s all the time I have for now. Until next time!

  By: Alex Pan

[nikki-writes-stuff]

Beach Waves (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: One morning, you wake up to find yourself on a tropical island with a man claiming to be your fiance. When he tells you that you’re suffering from a case of amnesia after a diving accident, you want to believe him. But you can’t shake the feeling that your “fiance” isn’t being completely honest with you...

Hello, guys! So this is my submission for @imanuglywombat​‘s ‘The Ugliest Wombat Challenge’! I used the Beach Babes moodboard, and I hope you guys like my story! Let me know what you think. 

Warning: This story is DARK! It contains non con and dub con, so please read at your own risk! 

The first thing you registered when you woke up was the sound of waves crashing on the beach. You smiled and snuggled into the sheets beneath you, the scent of water thick in the air as a breeze drifted in through the window. You didn’t remember leaving your window open, nor did you remember putting on a playlist of ocean waves before going to sleep. Come to think about it, you were stretched out pretty far on the mattress beneath you; typically, you’d have at least a foot sticking out if you laid like this on your twin-sized mattress at home…

Your eyes shot open, and you saw pure white sheets obstructing your vision. When you sat up, you took in the large bedroom around you; chestnut wood made up the floors and walls, and there were huge windows decorated with sheer curtains directly to your right. What lay beyond the windows was what really surprised you, though.

A pristine beach with white sand and turquoise water lay on its other side, palm trees dotting the shoreline every hundred yards or so.

“Well,” you whispered to yourself, “as far as dreams go, this is pretty good.”

You stretched your stiff limbs and stood up from the bed, feeling a plush faux-fur rug beneath your feet. You frowned, wiggling your toes around in the material; it felt real. You took a few cautious steps over to the window, looking out over the scene beyond; the breeze blowing into the room felt real, too.

There were no people out on the beach, and there had been no one in the room when you woke up. With the same frown plastered onto your face, you opened the first door you came to, but it only led out into a bathroom. There was a large, open window in it, too, right in front of the bathtub. You imagined how peaceful it must be to take a bath while watching the sunset, but you shook that thought away. With every passing moment, this was seeming like less of a dream and more of an impossible reality, and you needed to find out which one was the truth.

The next door you came to opened into a large, open room. There were sofas and chairs positioned around a huge tv, and beyond that there was a kitchen decked out with the newest appliances on the market. The room was full of windows, too, most of which were open.

You looked down at your body and realized with a start that you weren’t wearing your same old ratty pajamas, either; you were in a lacy, white nightgown that came down to your knees. The fabric was alarmingly sheer, revealing to anyone who might see that you were naked underneath it.

Feeling the first twinge of fear strike through you, you pinched yourself. When nothing changed, you did it again, hard enough to make you wince; there was no denying that you were awake.

You were about to start panicking when you saw the note. Over on the dining table, there was a crisp sheet of white paper folded down the middle, and your name was on written on the front of it with messy handwriting. Padding over on your bare feet, you picked the paper up and opened it.

Hey, doll. If you’re reading this, then I’ll be back soon. There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry.

There was no signature to be seen, and after rereading the short paragraph, you walked into the kitchen as instructed; you were feeling pretty hungry. Your eyes landed on a bowl of fruit, and you took out a banana before going over to the fridge. It was chock full of food, but you only grabbed a bottle of water from it before walking back to the dining table and starting to peel the banana.

Don’t freak out, you were telling yourself. There’s probably a logical reason why you’re here. Maybe you have amnesia, and this is like 51st Dates. Maybe there’s a glitch in the Matrix or something. Maybe-

You were broken out of your thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you, and you stood up and turned around so fast that your head spun with the movement.

Standing behind you was, quite possibly, the most attractive man you’d ever seen. He had long brown hair that came down to his chin, and it was wet. In fact, his whole body was wet, and the only thing he was wearing were a pair of black swim trunks. You quickly focused on his left arm; it was made entirely out of metal. You could see the angry seam of scar tissue where it met his shoulder, and after your eyes ran along the line of the metal, they couldn’t help but trial downwards to the impressive six-pack he was sporting.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” he smiled, walking over to you. “Sorry for leaving you like that; I just went down to the beach for a swim.”

Your mouth opened to respond, but after a moment you just shut it again. The man arched his eyebrows at you, raising his flesh hand and pressing it against your forehead.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “You look confused.”

“I…” You cleared your throat, your voice still raspy from sleep. “I am confused. Where am I?”

The man frowned, letting his hand fall back down to his side.

“We’re on Tony’s island, baby,” he explained. “We came here on vacation, remember? To celebrate?”

“Celebrate?” you echoed. He smiled again, though there was a glint of confusion in his eyes.

“Our engagement?” You watched, dumfounded, as he lifted your left hand, holding it up to show off the gorgeous ring resting upon it. It was made of white gold, a breathtaking diamond resting in its center surrounded by a thin ring of opal.

“…Engagement?”

“Baby, you do remember, don’t you? I asked you at the party?”

Your mind was completely blank, and the concern on his face only grew when you shook your head.

“I… There has to be some kind of mistake,” you assured him. “I… I don’t know who you are. We’ve never met.”

“…Shit.” He shook his head, setting his hand on the side of your face ever so gently. For some reason, the contact didn’t bother you. “Honey, I know you hit your head hard yesterday, but I had no idea that it was this bad.”

“I hit my head?”

“Yeah. We went swimming together, and you dove in where the water was shallow. Hit your head on a rock. I carried you back here, and at first you were fine, just a little dazed. But now…”

You felt your heart sink like a rock, and you tried to remember something, anything, of what this guy was telling you.

“I’m really sorry, sir,” you spoke. “But the last thing I remember was going to bed in my dorm room; I’m in college.”

“Hon, you graduated six months ago, the week after we met. You seriously don’t remember?”

You shook your head, feeling a pang of guilt as he bowed his head, letting out a sigh.

“I… I’m really sorry,” you whispered. “Um… What is your name?”

The man gave you a sad half-smile, letting his hand fall to your shoulder.

“…My name is James,” he said. “But you’ve always called me Bucky.”

________

You were seated on a beach towel, running your hand along the soft, warm sand to your right. Despite having a wicked case of amnesia, you supposed that it was very nice here.

Bucky had really been so understanding of the situation; he’d made you sit still while he checked out the bump on your head (it was hardly noticeable at this point, but your head had felt a bit tender when he’d touched it, which only further convinced you that he was telling the truth). After that, he’d let you know that he didn’t have any way of communicating with anyone off the island. But, before the two of you had left, he’d scheduled a small plane to pick the two of you up eight days later.

In the meantime, all that was left to do was relax and enjoy your vacation as much as possible. After saying you’d like some time alone to think, he’d quickly gotten you a beach towel and suggested you lay out in the sun for a little bit.

So now, as you lay there, you tried to rack your brain for anything at all that struck you as familiar about Bucky. You really did feel bad for him; if what he was saying was true, and you really believed that it was, then it must be hard on him. As you pondered his face, you did feel as if he was a little bit familiar. His eyes were what caught on your memory; you swore that you’d seen him before.

“Honey?”

You jumped and turned around, looking up to see Bucky standing next to you. He was still only wearing his swim trunks, but a pair of aviator sunglasses were perched on his nose as well, and he was holding two cups of what looked to be some kind of blended beverage.

“Hey, Bucky.” You tried to smile at him, sitting up on your elbows. “Whatcha got there?”

“Well, I know you said you wanted to be alone for a little bit,” he started. “And I promise I’ll get out of your hair if you still want me to, but I made pina coladas for us…”

You laughed, picturing a buff guy like him making such a girly cocktail, but you gladly took the glass he offered you.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you sat with me for a little bit,” you said. “I have some questions I’d like to ask you.”

“I’m sure you do.” Bucky sat down beside you, not batting an eye as he rested in the sand. You giggled again as he took a sip through the straw in his drink; it was pink to match yours.

“You know,” you joked, “you strike me more as a whiskey kind of guy.”

“I was for the longest time,” he smiled. “But after you ordered one of these things at the bar we go to on the weekends, I tried one and, uh… Well. Let’s just say that this isn’t the first time you’ve teased me about it. But they’re good.”

“Happy’s?” you asked. “Is that the bar you’re talking about?”

“The one and only. It’s where we had our first date.”

You sipped your drink, humming when the alcohol left just the slightest burn down your throat.

“Tell me about it?” You turned to him, giving him a smile. “Maybe if you tell me about our life together, I’ll start to remember it.”

Bucky smiled and took your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before letting it fall back into the sand.

“That’s an excellent idea, baby,” he praised, smirking as your eyelashes fluttered.

“So, like I said, our first date was at Happy’s,” he began. “We were both there alone; your friends had cancelled on you, and I had just moved to the area, so I had no friends to speak of. I was sitting there when you walked up and I just… I knew that you were something special.

“I watched you for a little bit afterwards,” he admitted, giving you a sheepish smile. “And you didn’t even notice. But, eventually, I worked up the courage to do something about those butterflies you’d put in my stomach. I asked if I could buy you a drink, and you said yes, and, well… The rest is history.”

You smiled; you still couldn’t for the life of you recall this ever happening, but it was a nice thought.

“So you watched me for a while, huh? Like some kind of creep?”

He laughed at your joke, but his jaw ticked and his eyes shifted away from you as he did.

“I didn’t mean that,” you assured him. “You seem…really nice, actually. Tell me more about us.”

Bucky’s smile softened, and he started telling you story after story about the six months you’d known each other for. He told you about your parents’ first reactions to him, about how he’d helped you stay up all night studying for your finals just five days after meeting you, about the first kiss you shared. You’d felt as if your cheeks were on fire during the entirety of that story, but you’d still listened with a smile.

“When was the first time you told me that you loved me?” you suddenly asked, and a sly smirk stretched across his face.

“Who says I have?”

You chuckled and shoved his shoulder.

“Some fiancé you are,” you giggled.

“You know I’m joking, baby,” he grinned. You still couldn’t get used to his little pet names for you, but you also couldn’t help but adore them.

“I told you that I loved you after we dated for…about two weeks,” he recalled. “It was a little soon, I knew, but… I needed you to know. We’d gone out to dinner that night, and afterwards we’d gone back to my place to watch a movie. I can’t even remember what the movie was called, but I know that it made you laugh. And before I knew it, I was telling you.”

You smiled, scooting closer to him.

“Did I say that I loved you back?” you asked. Bucky smiled mischievously.

“You did later on that evening,” he winked. “It was also the first time we made love, you see.”

Your eyes widened and you turned back towards the beach, biting your lip when you heard Bucky laugh.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he chuckled, setting his metal hand on your back. “I didn’t mean to make you all flustered.”

You turned back to him and gave him a half-smile, allowing him to let his hand rest against your shoulder. All of a sudden, you felt painfully aware of the heat of his eyes on yours, of the skimpy, see-through dress you were wearing.

Without warning, you stood up, feeling guilty when you saw his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“I, um… I’m getting pretty hot out here,” you rushed to explain. “Do I have any swimsuits? I think I might go for a dip.”

Bucky once again was all smiles, and he stood up beside you, collecting your now-empty glasses from where you’d rested them in the sand.

“Do I have a swimsuit, she asks,” he joked. “She does, in fact, have a drawer full of them.”

You followed him inside, definitely not watching his impeccable back muscles as he led the way. He told you that they were in the top-left drawer of the dresser in the bedroom before going into the kitchen to wash the glasses, and you took that as your que to get dressed.

A few moments later, you were face to face with at least seven different bikinis. All of them were different colors and made of different materials, but they were all equally revealing. After making sure the door was locked, you took off your thin cover-up and eventually settled on a white bikini made out of a braided, rope-like material. It seemed to be the most modest one from the collection, but you still pulled your lacy dress on over it.

When you walked out into the living area, Bucky was sitting at the dining table, tapping away at a tablet.

“I thought we didn’t have contact with anyone off the island?” you spoke up. Bucky’s head snapped up to you, but his surprised expression was soon replaced with a smile.

“Oh, I was just using this to read,” he explained, locking the tablet. “I see that you picked out my favorite one.”

He pointed to the bikini, and you blushed, regretting that you hadn’t chosen a thicker dress to wear over it.

“I, um… I’m gonna go swimming now, if its ok,” you said.

“That’s fine, hon,” he assured you, waving you off towards the door. “I’m gonna finish with this last chapter and then I’ll join you.”

You didn’t tell him that you were absolutely fine with him staying there and leaving you to swim alone, but that was how you felt as you rushed out the door. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Bucky, but it was just odd, being around a man who seemed to know everything about you while you knew nothing about him. And you weren’t naive; you’d seen how his eyes had been lingering on you all day. You had no doubt that the two of you had had sex before, but you couldn’t remember it. It might as well have been as if he’d never touched you at all.

As you waded into the ocean, you closed your eyes and let yourself float, letting the sea move your body with its waves. The last you remembered, it had been January, but now, six months later, it had to be July. You’d been living in New York for college, and all you could remember about the weather was it being cold and, more often than not, damp with either snow, sleet, or rain. Now, though, it was perfect – warm, but not too hot. And there was a constant breeze from the ocean.

You let yourself relax, the waves soothing your nerves. Was it really so bad? After eight days, Bucky could take you to a doctor, and hopefully they would be able to help you regain your memory. And until then, you were stuck on a gorgeous island with a gorgeous man who very clearly loved you. Maybe you could stop questioning it. Maybe you could be happy.

After spending a good hour swimming through the waves, you dried off and trudged back inside, your limbs feeling heavy after all of the exertion. When you walked past the living room, you saw Bucky poke his head out from the kitchen, giving you a smile.

“Have a good swim?” he called out.

“It was amazing,” you gushed. “But now I need a shower and some dry clothes.”

“Well, once you’re done, come back out and eat dinner! I’m attempting to make a stir fry.”

You smiled at him over your shoulder.

“I bet it’ll be great, Bucky.”

With that, you walked into the bathroom, running a bath for yourself. You thought about Bucky as you washed, about how mysterious he was. You still didn’t know why he had a metal arm; you didn’t know where he was from or what he was like as a person. But, despite how silly it might have been, you wanted to trust him. He seemed like a good man.

It took you a surprisingly long time to find something to wear that was modest enough to make you comfortable. You found, right next to the drawer of bikinis, a drawer full of lingerie. Your face warmed up as you looked over the lace and silk, imagining packing them to wear for Bucky. Which set was his favorite, you wondered? Which of these had you worn for him before?

You pushed those thoughts away, pulling on a pale pink bra with its matching panties. Most of the dresses hanging up in the closet were similar to the lace one from before, but you managed to find a simple one made out of soft gray cotton.

You arranged your hair until you were satisfied with how it looked, and with one last glance in the mirror, you walked back out, heading into the kitchen.

Bucky was dividing the stir fry into two bowls for the both of you, wearing the same swim trunks but now with a white t-shirt on as well. He gave you a smile when you walked in, his eyes sliding up and down your body quickly before turning back to the task at hand. You tried to pull your dress down a little bit more, but no matter how you adjusted it, it still only came to about mid-thigh.

“You look lovely as always,” Bucky complimented. “If you would just set out a few waters for us on the table, then I think we’ll be all set to dig in.”

You nodded and did as he said, still flustered from his praise. You set out the waters and took a set when Bucky held your chair out for you.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, and Bucky just gave you another close-lipped smile.

“Gotta take care of my girl,” he shrugged.

When he set your bowl down in front of you, your stomach gave a lout growl, and the both of you giggled at the sound.

“I guess I should’ve eaten more than just a banana today,” you chuckled.

“That’s all you had?” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. “Baby, you gotta eat more than that. You’ll starve at this rate.”

“It must’ve been my accident,” you explained. “I didn’t wake up with much of an appetite.”

“Well…still. Going forward, I want you to make sure you eat enough.”

You frowned at his authoritative tone, but you still nodded.

“Ok, Bucky. I will.”

That seemed to satisfy him, and he finally took a bite of his food. You followed suit, letting out a hum; it was really good. So, he could cook, too. Of course he could.

“Um… Bucky?” You spoke up after a few minutes of silent eating. “Can I ask you some personal questions?”

“Of course you can, doll,” he assured you. “I’m sure they’re nothing you haven’t asked before.”

You bit your lip, your eyes shifting to his metal arm of their own accord. He followed your gaze and flexed his fingers.

“This?” he asked. When you nodded, he held his hand up, watching the metallic fingers wiggle a bit before letting it rest in his lap.

“A long time ago, I lost my arm in a war,” he eventually explained.

“Oh my gosh… Bucky, I’m so sorry to hear that,” you sympathized. “Which war was it?”

He hesitated, searching your face as his mouth opened to speak. After a moment, though, he closed it and looked back down at his food.

“Would if be ok if we didn’t…”

“Oh, Bucky, of course! I’m so sorry for prying,” you rushed to apologize. He gave you a half smile and leaned over, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t help the tiny, dreamy smile that came over your lips.

“It’s ok, baby,” he promised. “It’s just hard for me to think back to that time… It was so dark. Even after I, uh…recovered, things were still bad. But when I saw you… You make life seem bright again, doll.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes, and you leaned over to press your forehead into his neck, reaching down to take his flesh hand in yours.

“Bucky,” you whispered, “that…was really cheesy.”

“Hey!” He grinned and reached over, tickling your ribs. You squeaked and scooted away, but Bucky didn’t let you get far.

“You think that’s nice? Picking on an old man like me?” he chuckled, and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you.

“Bucky, c’mon,” you smiled. “You can’t be any older than, like, 32.”

His eyebrows shot up, and a deep laugh rumbled in his chest.

“I have you well and truly fooled, don’t I?”

You narrowed your eyes. Something in Bucky’s tone seemed…a little darker than it had been a few seconds ago. You couldn’t help but wonder if the two of you were still just talking about his age, and you were suddenly aware of how close the two of you were. Your chair was pressed flush against his, and you were very nearly perched on his lap.

Before you could move away, though, his lips were on yours – soft, chapped, insistent. The part of you that felt nervous before melted away as your body reacted; no one had ever kissed you like this. You parted your lips for his tongue, and as it swept into your mouth, you couldn’t help but think that this was what all those romance novels were talking about – this is what it felt like when a kiss was claiming.

You heard the clatter of bowls being pushed away before Bucky’s hands were on your hips, lifting you up to sit on the table in front of him. His lips pulled away from yours, red and swollen and slick, and he started lifting the skirt of your dress, sliding his hands over your thighs and kneading the soft flesh.

“Bucky…” you sighed, cupping his cheeks.

For a moment, the two of you were still as you looked into his eyes. Your fingers could feel the roughness of his stubble, and you ached to know what his coarse facial hair would feel like against your neck as he kiss you, against your thighs…

With a soft whimper, you pulled his lips back to yours, wrapping your arms around his neck. You knew that this was wrong; you didn’t know him. He was a stranger. You were trapped on an island with him, for god’s sake.

But this felt so right. You reasoned with yourself that this couldn’t have been your first kiss; the two of you had probably been intimate many times. You just couldn’t remember.

You gasped when Bucky pulled away and started lifting your dress up. You raised up your arms to help him get it off, and you felt as if your blood was on fire when he paused to look at your body. His eyes devoured you, lingering over your soft skin. You knew you had to look like a mess – panting as if you’d just ran a mile, lips still wet with his saliva.

But when Bucky’s hands traced the curve of your hips, running them up your belly and to your breasts, he was reverent. He whispered your name before leaning back in, attaching his lips to your neck as he pushed your bra down. Your back arched of its own accord when his thumbs started teasing your nipples; your mind slipped into a haze when he sucked over your pulse point.

All of a sudden, you felt him bite you while pinching your nipples at the same time, and the shocks of pain send a wave of heat right down to your core. You threw your head back and moaned as he licked over the bite mark soothingly, your hands settling in his long hair while he moved down to bite at the soft flesh of your breasts.

“Bucky…” He let out a groan when you moaned his name, and you let yourself lay down on the table as he leaned over your body.

His tongue was tracing one of your nipples when his fingers trailed down to your panties, gripping the hem of them between his two hands and ripping. You gasped as he tore away the thin fabric, tossing it behind him. You were about to protest; you’d liked those panties, but then he rolled your nipple between his teeth, and every word you were about to say fizzled out into white noise.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, pulling away to look up at you. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows to meet his eyes, and he gave you a half-smirk as he moved further down your body.

His hands pushed your thighs apart and his eyes raked over your pussy hungrily. You bit your lip as he pressed a kiss to the top of your mound, and you braced yourself for what you knew was coming next.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Bucky pushed his tongue past your lips, licking a long, flat line from your entrance to your clit. You closed your eyes and hummed as he flattened his tongue against your bud, lapping at it softly; he had definitely done this before.

The sound of his tongue running along your sensitive flesh seemed to echo in the room, and as obscene as it was, it only made you feel more desperate for him. Your hands tugged on his hair, eliciting a gravelly moan from him.

“Faster,” you begged. “Bucky, please…”

You saw him smirk as he complied with your request, starting to trace tiny little circles against your clit. Your toes curled at the sensation, and you thought that you could cum just like that, with his tongue flicking against your bud incessantly.

But then you felt a cold, smooth finger slide past your entrance, and your eyes flew open in time to catch a flash of sliver against your pussy. Your moan was embarrassingly loud as he added a second finger before thrusting gently. You covered your hand with your mouth, but the second you did so, Bucky pulled his mouth away.

“Nuh-uh, baby,” he chided. “Take that hand away; I wanna hear you.”

You whined but did as he said, moving your hand back into his hair. He gave you a smile before he started moving his fingers again, curling them in a way that had you seeing stars. His tongue found your clit once more, using just the smallest bit of teeth to start sucking on it.

“Bucky-!” you cried, hips rocking up against his face of their own accord.

“That’s right, doll,” he rumbled. “No one but me can here you out here. Be as loud as you fucking want.”

It only took a few more minutes of his attentions before you felt that familiar coil starting to build up in your belly. Your moans turned incomprehensible; broken syllables that might have belonged to his name were flying past your lips, but Bucky seemed to understand what you needed perfectly.

“Want you to cum on my face, baby,” he growled. “Give it to me, doll, right fucking now-“

With a few more swipes of his tongue, you were gone, muscles tensing and back arching almost painfully as you came. Bucky slowed his fingers, letting you ride it out while lapping gently at your clit. Your eyes were closed but you swore you saw galaxies behind them, and you only came back down to Earth when your clit became too sensitive. You hissed and tried to pull away, and finally he moved away from your swollen bud, lapping instead at your entrance.

“You taste so sweet,” he sighed, licking up as much of your cum as he could before pulling away.

You opened your eyes and nearly groaned at the sight of him; his hair was wild from you pulling it, a few strands falling down into his eyes as they stared intensely back at you. His stubble was slick with your juices, his lips a bright red as he licked them. Your eyes trailed down, and you could see the tent in his swim trunks from how hard he was.

Before you knew it, you were being lifted up into his arms as if you weighed nothing at all, and your limp, spent body leaned against his broad chest.

“Oh, baby,” he mumbled. “I hope you don’t think we’re done yet.” He nudged the bedroom door open with his toe and marched over to the bed, laying you out on it before starting to lift his shirt off. “Just didn’t wanna fuck you against the table. Not tonight.”

Your eyes widened and your body felt significantly less relaxed when he shoved his trunks down; his cock was huge, the biggest you’d ever seen in person. It was thick and long, even bigger than any of the toys you’d used on yourself in the past. You gulped and looked back up at him, squirming a bit when you saw the smirk on his face.

“What is it, baby?” he asked in a falsely innocent tone. He crawled over you, spreading your legs again so he could lay between them. “Don’t go getting shy on me now; the fun only just began.”

“Bucky, it…” You gulped, pressing your palms against his chest. “It’s just… you’re so big. You’re sure we’ve done this before?”

He chuckled and captured your lips with his, sliding his tongue along yours so you could taste yourself. You tried to relax into it, even when you felt the tip of his dick run up along your slit. But when he positioned himself at your entrance, you tried to pull away to say something, anything, to get him to wait for a second. You were still disoriented from cumming so hard before; you didn’t know if you could-

All of your thoughts faded into background noise as he pushed inside of you, stretching you painfully as inch by inch of his cock sank into your wet heat.

“O-oh, my god,” he panted. You could hear the gears in his left arm whirring as he gripped the sheets on either side of your head, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he finally bottomed out.

The pressure against your cervix ached, but you still tried to relax into the feeling. Your gripped onto his biceps, your nails digging into his flesh arm, but you needed something to ground yourself. He pulled back, leaving only his tip inside of you before thrusting back in, and you blinked away the tears in your eyes.

“Bucky, it hurts,” you begged. “Please-“

“I know it hurts, doll,” he moaned. “But just relax; I promise it’ll start feeling good soon. Just be a – fuck – just be a good girl and take it…”

He moaned as he started finding his rhythm, and you tried desperately to do as he said. You willed your pussy to relax against him, focusing so hard that you barely even registered him kissing you. Your wrists were being held down by his hands, and if his lips weren’t on yours, then they were on your neck, biting and sucking and leaving bright purple marks in their wake.

You didn’t know how long it took the pain to subside, but when it did, you opened your eyes to see a pair of stormy blue irises trained on you.

“I told you, baby,” he sighed. “Doesn’t that feel good now?”

You nodded your head blearily, wrapping your arms around his back as he started moving faster. The pain was still lingering, but alongside it there was a delicious pressure building up; he was hitting that same spot inside of you that his fingers had found earlier, and it wasn’t too long before you started moaning for him again.

“You’re so good for me, doll,” he breathed, breath hot against your ear. “Knew you would be fucking perfect…”

You could barely register his words as you felt your pleasure cresting, and you tried tugging your wrists free from his hold, needing to feel some kind of stimulation to your clit. You were so close; you just needed that little bit of contact to push you over the edge.

“Bucky, please,” you gasped, “Please, let me-“

He removed one of his hands from your wrists, but when you tried to bring it down to your pussy, he growled and pushed it away, replacing it with his.

“Let me,” he ordered, pressing one of his fingers against your aching bud. “I know what you need, baby. ‘ll take such good care o’ you…”

You let your head fall back as you felt your thighs twitch; you were close, you were so close. You didn’t even realize that you were begging him for your release, staring up at him with unseeing eyes as you frantically moved your hips against his.

With a few more snaps of his hips, though, you saw Bucky’s eyes widen, and when you felt his hot cum coating your inner walls, you finally felt yourself burst, cumming around his dick so hard that you screamed for him. Your pussy clenched around him, milking his cock, and you heard Bucky let out a growl at the sensation.

He rolled his hips a few more times, lazily riding out the high, and you tried your best to kiss him back when his lips landed on yours again. You were quickly succumbing to exhaustion, though; between your shocking discovery this morning, your long swim, and being fucked until you were nearly passing out, your body ached for sleep.

You didn’t open your eyes as Bucky rolled over onto his back, pulling you to lay against his side.

“I love you so much, doll,” he whispered, and you smiled when you felt his lisp descend onto your forehead.

You drifted off to sleep quickly after that, but somewhere in the back of your mind, your brain was nagging at you, telling you that something wasn’t right. Why hadn’t he answered when you’d asked if you guys had fucked before? And what had be meant a few minutes ago when he’d said he’d known you’d be perfect?

You shook away your thoughts, forcing yourself to focus on the feeling of Bucky’s chest rising and falling beneath your cheek. It wasn’t long before you drifted off, but even while you were asleep, you couldn’t escape your anxiety. Your dreams were plagued by the feeling of being watched, by blue eyes staring at you from across a crowded bar, by waking up to see a shadowy figure looming over your mattress back in your dorm while you slept.

But the dreams were only that, right? Only dreams? They had to be, because the alternative was too horrible to be true.

______

The next few days went by surprisingly quick. You and Bucky spent the days together on the beach for the most part – swimming, sunbathing, getting tipsy off the drinks Bucky would mix for you. Or, rather, you were the only one to get tipsy. Bucky had this crazy high tolerance to alcohol, as it turned out.

Every day, you would ask him questions about your life together or about his life apart from you. You learned that he had a best friend named Steve and that they’d fought in ‘the war’ together. He never told you where he fought or how he’d lost his arm, but you never pried.

He also told you stories about your time as a couple. He described dates you two had been on, gifts you’d gotten for each other, how your family had behaved while meeting him for the first time this last December. He didn’t have any family himself, but he spoke so fondly of yours that you got the sense that he considered them to be just as much his family as they were yours.

When the two of you weren’t on the beach, like the fourth day, when it had rained, you watched movies together. Bucky hadn’t seen most of your favorite movies; he was an old fashioned kind of guy. He spent most of the movie on his tablet, reading that same book he seemed so obsessed with. He never let you see it when you’d asked to, asking if he could wait until he finished the last few chapters before loaning to you, and you hadn’t pushed it.

On your seventh day on the island, you woke up feeling pleasantly sore from the previous night. The two of you had been having a lot of sex ever since that first night. You suspected that the two of you were slowly working your way through the Karma Sutra, what with all of the new positions Bucky had coerced you into trying. Last night had involved your legs bent into a shape that you could only describe as pretzel-esque, but you hadn’t complained when Bucky made you cum twice before he was finished with you.

Now, though, you woke up to a surprisingly empty bed; Bucky had made it a point to spend lazy mornings in bed cuddling. (And if those cuddles turned into morning sex, then all the better.) But today there was only a piece of paper next to you, just like there had been on your first morning.

Going out for a swim; you looked too peaceful to wake up. Love you.

You smiled at the note before placing it on your nightstand and getting up, stretching with a sigh. You saw Bucky’s gray t-shirt from the night before laying on the ground right next to the hamper, and you walked over and pulled it on, excited to see what his reaction to you wearing his clothes would be. You could imagine the dark look in his eyes even now, and you didn’t fight the excited grin that came to your lips as you walked to the kitchen to make breakfast.

You settled on some oatmeal for that morning, popping it in the microwave before realizing that Bucky’s tablet was laying on the counter next to the stove. You picked it up, opening it before you thought anything about it; you only wanted to see what he’d been reading.

You frowned, though, when it opened straight into a text exchange; you’d thought Bucky said you didn’t have a way of communicating off of the island. The name “Steve” was at the top of the screen, and you started to scroll up through the texts.

The last few were just Steve “checking in” on Bucky. You scrolled past those, stopping only when you saw a longer one from Bucky’s friend.

So when am I going to get to meet this mystery girl?

After we get back from vacation, punk. Can’t have you scaring her off just yet.

You know I’m happy for you, Buck, but it seems a little fishy. You’ve only known this girl for, what, a month?

Your blood ran cold when you read Bucky’s reply.

It’s been two months, jackass. But I know she’s the one, ok? Just trust me. You’ll get to meet her soon.

Your heart was hammering when you swiped down on the page, staring at the date unbelievingly.

“I really wish you hadn’t seen that.”

You dropped the tablet to the floor with a clatter, turning to see Bucky standing behind you, his arms crossed against his chest, his swim trunks still dripping with ocean water. You gulped, backing up until you felt the small of your back bump against the countertop.

“…Bucky,” you gulped. “…How long have we really known each other?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his wet hair, slicking it back against his head.

“Does the answer really matter?”

“Yes, it fucking matters!” you screamed. “You told me we’ve been together for six months, that I’ve been out of college for six months. If that’s true, then how is it still January?”

Bucky looked to be at a loss for words, and both of you jumped when the microwave let out its long beep. Shaking your head, you stomped over to him and shoved his chest, trying to move his body out of the doorway. He didn’t budge, though, so you kept desperately trying to move him.

“You lied to me!” you shouted. “I never had amnesia, did I?” You looked up when Bucky said nothing, feeling a twinge of fear at the blank look in his eyes. “…Bucky, I never had amnesia. Did I?”

The man sighed and put his hands on your shoulders.

“…No,” he finally admitted. “You don’t have amnesia.”

You felt as if your body had been dunked into a pool of ice water, and for a long moment you couldn’t move. You could only stare up at the man you’d spent the last week with, begging for him to explain with your wide, frightened eyes.

“I was going to tell you,” he sighed, rubbing your back. “After we’d spent the eight days with each other, I was gonna come clean. I just… I needed you to give me a chance. I needed you to see how good we could be together-“

“Oh my god,” you sighed, stumbling backwards away from him, a hand pressed to your mouth as tears started falling down your cheeks. “Oh, my god… I had sex with you. I trusted you; I thought that I might even love you-“

Bucky’s chest expanded with a silent gasp, and his eyes widened as he took a step towards you.

“You… You love me?”

You scoffed at the question and shoved past him, storming into the living room.

“Not anymore,” you spat. You turned around to face him, feeling a torrent of anger at the tears in his eyes. He had no right to feel that way – he was the one who’d hurt you.

“Everything you told me was a lie,” you shouted. “The dates, the way we met, everything! How do I even know if your name is really Bucky?”

“It is Bucky,” he insisted. “And we can make what I said true! We can go on those dates; I can meet your family. We can build the exact same life together that I told you about!”

You gulped when you saw the manic look in his eyes, shaking your head as you continued to back away towards the door.

“You’re fucking insane,” you whispered. You could see how hard those three words hit him; he looked as if you’d just slapped him, and you let out a scream when he started marching towards you.

You turned on your heel and ran out onto the beach, not knowing where you were going as you fled. But you didn’t even get to the shoreline before Bucky had tackled you. He forced you onto your back in the sand, trapping your thighs between his knees and pinning your wrists down on either side of your head.

“Stop it!” he shouted. “Just give me a chance to explain-“

“I’m not giving you anything else,” you yelled back. “I gave you my body and my trust and you lied to me! You took advantage of me! How did I even get to this island, huh? Did you kidnap me? Drug me in my sleep and cart me away to a private island for psychopaths?!”

You’d only been throwing wild accusations out at him, but from the guilty expression on his face, you saw that you’d struck a nerve.

“Oh my god,” you murmured. “That’s exactly what you did, isn’t it?”

Bucky gritted his teeth and growled, squeezing your wrists until you cried out in pain.

“I am not,” he spat, “crazy. I’m in love with you, (Y/N). And I wanted to do it the right way; I gave you time to notice me. I’d go to that bar every single Sunday, watching you, begging you to see me. And one time, you know what? You did. Your eyes looked right into mine, and I thought that that was it; I thought you’d finally seen me. But do you know what you did next?”

You gulped, watching as his face got more and more red with the force of his yelling.

“Bucky-“

“You fucking turned away,” he continued. “You let some other asshole buy you a drink. All I wanted was for you to give yourself to me, but instead you forced me to take you instead-“

“You’re fucking crazy!” you screamed, bringing your knee up against his stomach. He grunted, doubling over for a second, and you tore your wrists away from him and squirmed away, stumbling through the wet sand as you willed your legs to move as fast as they could.

You only made it a few yards before Bucky’s hand grabbed your arm, turning you back to him so forcefully that you thought he might have given you whiplash. He pulled your body against his, using his impossible strength to keep you there.

“Stop fucking struggling,” he growled. “You’re gonna make me do something we both regret.”

You flailed frantically, but it wasn’t enough; you were no match for his strength. He pushed you back into the sand roughly, shoving your shirt up until it was bunched up right under your breasts. Your heart caught in your throat when he brought his hand down hard on your pussy, and you wailed as the sting seemed to reverberate through your entire body.

“You still don’t see it, do you?” He wrapped his metal hand around your neck, keeping you pinned there as he shoved his shorts down with his free hand. “That’s fine, doll, don’t worry. I’ll just have to show you again, won’t I? How well we fit together?”

Your eyes widened as he started stroking his half-hard cock, and you once more struggled, flailing your limbs around desperately. The hand on your throat only tightened, though, and you had to stop as it became a struggle to inhale. Your ears were ringing by the time he was fully hard, and when he loosened his grip on you, you inhaled greedily, gulping air into your lungs.

“Last change, dollface,” he growled. “If you promise to play nice, I’ll make this easy on you.”

Your eyes met his, narrowing at the threat that lay within them.

“Go to hell,” you growled. Bucky only laughed, though, roughly shoving your legs apart.

“Baby,” he chuckled darkly, “Hell is what made me.”

With that, he shoved his cock inside of you, clamping a hand down on your mouth to muffle the scream that came from it. It hurt; it was even more painful than the first night. Typically, when the two of you made love, he would make sure you were at least wet for him before entering you.

But this wasn’t making love; he gave you no time to adjust before he started slamming inside of you, spitting on his flesh hand and reaching down to coat his cock with it before continuing.

“Not wet for me, huh?” he grunted. “That’s fine, baby; I’ll take care of you.”

His hand rested beside your head, and his metal fingers tightened once more on your neck. You winced and still tried to weakly push against his chest, even though you knew that it was of no use. His strength was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

He was panting as he pounded into you, his eyes half-lidded as he watched your face. Keeping his hand your neck, his other trailed down to where your bodies were joining, pressing his fingers to your clit. You whined, trying to press your thighs together; it was too sensitive, too dry, to feel good.

“C’mon, doll,” he moaned, desperation clinging to his voice. “You were so responsive last night.”

He licked his hand, once more trying to coax your clit into feeling good, and you wanted to cry as it slowly started to feel good, softening the pain of him fucking into you and turning it into something more pleasant. You clawed against the grip he had on your throat, but he wouldn’t budge; you might as well have been trying to move an oak tree.

“There we go,” he moaned. “Now you’re starting to get wet – see? Told you I’d take care of you.”

You whined, feeling the corners of your vision starting to go black with lack of oxygen. Every sensation you felt was heightened; you were acutely aware of his cock inside of you, pressing against every bump and ridge of your inner walls. The week previous had conditioned you to like this, had made you crave the feeling of him stretch you, but you fought against that unwanted instinct.

Despite your best efforts, though, it was as if struggling against the pleasure only made it increase in its intensity. Every brush of his fingers against your clit felt like an electric shock, and before you’d even became consciously aware of it, your orgasm was hovering over you.

You tried to breathe deeply, tried to push the feeling down, but Bucky only moaned and shoved himself harder inside of you.

“I know you want to,” he breathed. “Cum for me again, baby. Just like you always do…”

He squeezed your neck even harder, and you felt your brain start to go fuzzy. The only thing you were aware of was the feeling in your core, and when you felt your orgasm finally, finally, come over you, you couldn’t even take a breath. Your pussy clenched and fluttered around him even as your eyes started to close. The ringing in your ears got louder, but somewhere far away, you could hear Bucky’s roar as he came.

Before you could fully process what was happening, though, your mind slipped into unconsciousness, just barely registering the sound of Bucky murmuring your name before you were gone.

________

Your head was pounding when you woke up, and the skin around your ankles felt sore and raw. You blinked open your eyes, wincing as the bright sunlight flooded your vision and stung your corneas.

“Oh, thank God.”

You turned to your left and saw Bucky perched on the side of the bed, leaning over you.

“I was afraid when you passed out on me like that,” he sighed, cupping your cheek.

You tilted your head away from him and looked down, seeing two lengths of ropes looped around your ankles, keeping them securely tied to the bed.

“Oh, that.” Bucky winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought it would be in both of our interests if you didn’t try to run again. I’ll take them off as soon as I’m confident that you won’t try anything again.”

You blinked away your tears and stared up at the ceiling, pointedly ignoring the hand still resting on your cheek.

“They’ll find out,” you warned him. “The people driving the plane. When they come tomorrow, I’ll tell them what you did.”

A look that was almost pitying came across Bucky’s face.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed. “Did you really believe that there was a plane coming for us tomorrow?”  

[duchessfics]

Midnight Disclosure

(https://friendly-deatheater.tumblr.com/post/152731371953)

(https://alainashuffman.tumblr.com/post/66522632737/sarah-paulson-in-piggy-piggy)

Billie x Fem!Reader x Audrey

Requested by Anon: hi! i was wondering if you could you write some fluff for billie x reader x audrey? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 i’ve gotta a lot of tough stuff going on and on top of that the world is going crazy, so my mental health isn’t doing very well. maybe r feels like a burden and doesn’t really talk about her mental health or problems because she doesn’t want to bother anyone so she avoids billie and audrey. you are one of my absolute favorite blogs!! take as long as ya need writing this!! ☺️💕

Warning(s): Mentions of anxiety and depression, description of a panic attack, Mentions of Covid-19 

Summary: On the eve of current world events, the reader is overwhelmed but doesn’t want to bother her girlfriends with personal struggles. However the truth eventually emerges and they offer support in a way that she hasn’t experienced.

Word Count: 4347

A/n: Tbh, I’m a little nervous to publish this just because I know Covid-19 is everywhere at the moment and it’s frightening. But I thought this could help with those of us who may feel overwhelmed or are struggling to fight inner demons. I am fortunate enough that even though I’m currently laid off from work I am in a relatively stable environment. And my heart goes out to everyone who is struggling right now.

With the time I have now I’m trying to write more and publish some content where if nothing else you can get an escape for a couple minutes. I’ll also be reposting others’ works too. If you are struggling know that I care about you and am willing to listen even if you just want to be anonymous. Wherever you are in the world I’m sending positive thoughts/vibes/prayers your way. 💖

“Y/n, darling!” Billie calls out from the kitchen. 

In response you get up from your spot on the couch and walk over to where she is. When you enter the luxurious kitchen, the medium gives you her million dollar smile and curls her finger in a beckoning motion, showing off her fresh set of acrylic nails—cherry red of course. 

You smile back, cheeks warming as you come within close proximity. Then she leans in and pecks your lips before asking you, “Were you busy, sweetheart?” You shake your head and ask, “Why?” Billie takes a step back and picks up a slip of paper off of the countertop while replying, “I wanted to ask if you could run out and buy a couple things we need?” 

You take the list from her and scan over the items before returning your gaze to her chocolate brown eyes and asking, “Is Audrey around to come with me?” The blonde gives you a sympathetic smile and lifts one of her hands to cup your face before she answers, “She’s rehearsing her lines for the next couple days of work. And I have a conference call with a couple of producers in ten minutes.”

 You look down and nod in understanding, but feel bummed that you’ll be going alone. However Billie uses her hand to guide you to look at her before soothing, “When you get home, Audrey and I will give you something special. Ok?” 

The way she smirks at you makes your ears burn and a small giggle slips out of you before you reply, “Ok.” Her hand falls away from you and she gives you another brief kiss, letting her plump lips press against yours a little longer than before. Then Billie says with a wink, “I’ll see you later, babygirl.” 

You tell her goodbye and gather your purse and keys before walking out to the multiple car garage. Then you climb into Billie’s “old” sports car. In reality, the car isn’t that old, but she bought a new one and has basically given you this one. You climb in, turning the car on with a low growl and speed off to one of the local grocery stores…

You assumed this would be an easy in and out task, however as you pull into the parking lot it is jammed packed and you struggle to find an available parking spot. 

Maybe...there’s a really good sale? But you have never seen the supermarket this busy. 

Finally you find a space to pull into and step out of the car, list in hand. While walking towards the entrance, people pass by and have their shopping carts filled to the brim with cleaning items, toilet paper, canned goods, and water. Beyond the stuffed shopping carts, you also notice that each person’s facial expression is tainted with worry. 

In the midst of looking around, you nearly get run over by someone pushing their cart towards you. Luckily you back up out of the way with a gasp as they say on the phone, “They’re running out of everything. I’ve never seen so many empty shelves. You better come here soon or it will all be gone.”

Without you consciously realizing it, your heart rate has increased and you take shallow breaths. But you look to the ground, trying not to notice the numerous other people around you. 

You can do this. You only need three things: eggs, milk, and a bottle of Audrey’s favorite brand of fruit juice. No big deal. 

But when you enter the bustling building, a small whimper escapes your throat when you see the massive line of people checking out. Each cart is packed with items and the employees rush around trying to appease the masses. 

You don’t realize you’re frozen in place until someone brushes past you, letting out an annoyed huff. 

Maybe you should get more? You could call Billie—except she’s in a conference call. Should you call Audrey? She’s working too. You can just grab a couple extra things. Deep breaths. You can do this. 

You grab a shopping cart and wipe the handle with a sanitizing wipe before beginning to navigate through the packed aisles to pick up the items…

By the time you return to the car, your breath is stuck in your throat and your eyes smart with tears. You manage to unload the grocery bags of items into the car’s trunk before you get into the car and break down into tears. 

Yes you bought the three items. But in your panicked state you also filled your cart like everyone else. And you weren’t fast enough to even get any toilet paper or sanitizer. Why do you always fail when it’s most important to perform well? 

Your hands shake in fear and you know you just spent much more than you intended, but you’re so scared. Everyone is rushing around and things are flying off of the shelves so you panicked. As you cry and gasp for air, the thought crosses your mind to call your girlfriends. 

But they’ve never seen you like this. And you don’t want to bring them down. They’re so busy right now. You don’t want to burden them with your irrational thoughts. So you do your best to pull yourself together on the drive home.

When you pull into the garage and turn the car off, you make yourself take a couple deep breaths, collecting your emotions enough to get past them. For now you only pick up the three items you were sent out for and leave the rest to bring in when they’re gone. You were out for at least an hour, but hopefully they won’t notice.

You walk in to see Audrey pacing the length of the kitchen while listening to someone on her phone. She huffs and crosses her one arm over her chest, not giving you more than a stiff smile and honestly, you’re grateful. 

You slip off your shoes while she scoffs before arguing, “I don’t see why we are considering not filming at this point. I have been thoroughly rehearsing this role and have plenty of auditions and other projects after this.” 

Meanwhile you hear the news playing in the background from the living room.

 As she keeps pacing, you quickly put the items in the fridge, listening to her continue, “We’re already behind on production. If we don’t keep going now this will be a complete loss for everyone involved. Yes, I’m sure that I would take that risk to finish filming.” You silently leave the room and peek your head into the living room where Billie stands with her back to you smoking a cigarette while watching the news.

Before you can get any more anxious, you clear your throat and softly murmur, “I-I got everything on the list. I’m just going to lie down and rest for a bit.” She lets out a puff of smoke before partially turning towards you, but her eyes remain on the TV as she mindlessly replies, “Alright, thank you, sweetheart.” By the time you finish mumbling, “You’re welcome.” she’s back to watching the news. So you back into the hallway, your shoulders sagging as you hear Audrey’s frustrated words and the news.

Once you make it to the bedroom, you shut the door behind you and make a beeline for the bed. Then you flop back on it, letting out a sigh. 

However, you shoot back up and mutter, “Shit.” 

How could you be so stupid? 

You rush over to the bathroom and turn on the sink tap, wetting your hands before scrubbing them with soap. After humming happy birthday to yourself two times you rinse your hands and dry them off, just finishing when your phone rings. 

As you walk back to the bedroom, you pull your phone out of your pocket to see it’s your sister. So you press the answer button, sitting on the edge of the bed as you say, “Hello?” 

She greets you before asking, “Have you been watching the news? They’re saying the coronavirus is spreading especially quick in LA.” You let out a sigh, trying not to panic again as you answer, “Yeah. Things are pretty chaotic, but I just went grocery shopping so we should be good.” 

In response she warns, “Just be extra careful. This whole thing is getting worse and worse. Try not to go out.” You assure her you won’t and tell her you love her before saying goodbye. Then you fall back against the bed and snuggle under the covers. 

Maybe a nap will help you. 

But just as you get into the foggy daze of sleep, your phone dings. So with a groan of annoyance you pull out your phone to see your mom texted you, 

Did your sister call? 

You quickly reply, Yeah. Then you toss your phone out of arm’s reach before burrowing back under the covers.

However, your phone dings again, interrupting your quiet time. Maybe if you ignore her you can just text later. But after hearing 5 more dings, you toss the covers back with a groan and pick up your phone. That’s when you see your mom has texted you five times. 

She’s really concerned about you in LA. 

I don’t know if you’ve been watching the news, but this is all they’ve been talking about. Everyone’s saying they’ve never seen a global pandemic like this.

And LA is one of the hot spots. Did you go out and get essentials? Think through what you’ll need for the next couple weeks and go fast. It may all be gone soon and who knows how long it will be sold out.

Also try to do some things even when self-isolating. We all know how you get in situations like this.

Are you reading any of this?

Your eyes well up at that last text. Maybe you are just a burden to the people around you. 

Before she decides to call, you sniff and swipe away the tears that threaten to fall before texting back, 

Yeah. I got stuff today. 

As soon as you send it, the message says read and three dots show up on the screen. Your stomach clenches with nerves as they continue to bounce. You are positive that she’s going to send you a long message and sure enough a wall of text appears:

Don’t let yourself sleep these days away. Spend time cleaning the house. Exercise. Read that book I sent you. Don’t spend all day on your phone. That’s a complete waste of time. Don’t stay up late at night. Eat healthy, keep a regular schedule. Do some knitting. Spend time cooking. Go outside. This is not a time to stay in your pajamas and watch TV all day. Don’t fall into bad habits because of a lack of self awareness and self discipline. If you do this time will be incredibly disappointing and wasted. These are just a couple small things. I love you and only want what’s best for you.

By now you feel that earlier heaviness resettling on your chest and the pressure of her words just feel like too much right now. So you turn your phone off and set it aside before sliding under the covers and succumbing to the darkness…

At some point you must fall asleep, because you’re awakened by a soft, British voice saying, “Y/n, darling. Are you awake?” You shift under the blankets and they get slowly drawn back to reveal Audrey smiling down at you as she comments, “I don’t know how you fall asleep with all of those covers pulled over you. You’re like a little mole.” 

Your eyes squint as they adjust to the light and you shrug your shoulders, still feeling quite drowsy. But her face gets serious and her eyes narrow before she asks, “Is something wrong? You look upset.”

Your heart clenches as you realize how your eyes probably look puffy and irritated. Luckily, you come up with a quick excuse, saying, “It’s just my allergies. They flared up for some reason.” 

Her disposition goes back to normal and she nods in understanding, making you inwardly let out a sigh of relief. Then she says, “Well, I came in here to tell you that dinner is almost ready.” So you assure her you’ll be out in a few minutes and freshen up before joining your girlfriends at the dinner table.

As the three of you eat, Billie says, “I was talking to my producers and it looks like we’ll have to delay filming after this trip.” You feel guilty for being relieved, but can’t contain the small smile that forms on your face when the medium looks at you. She smirks back and purrs, “I wonder whatever I will do with all of the free time after that?” Your cheeks heat up at her insinuation and she gives you a wink, leading you to look down to hide your grin.

However, the moment is broken by Audrey stating, “Well I still plan to travel and film. This whole thing is ridiculous.” 

Your smile fades at her words and Billie looks to the actress before teasing, “Awe come on, Audrey. Don’t you want to spend time with y/n and I?” But Audrey scoffs and sternly replies, “I have worked my ass off for this role. So unless everything shuts down, I will be traveling to finish filming.”

Your eyes widen at her determination, but you keep quiet, looking down to your food. On the other hand, Billie doesn’t seem fazed, assuring her, “I’m sure it will all be fine, darling.” before she picks up her glass and finishes off her wine. 

You try to finish your plate of food, but the anxiety you feel makes your stomach unsettled. All of this turmoil makes you feel like your anxious thoughts are eating you from the inside out. But you don’t say anything. Why trouble them when they have enough on their plate?

The rest of the evening goes by in a blur of watching TV and even though you sit next to your girlfriends, your mind is miles away stuck in a loop of anxiety about your girlfriends, your family, your friends, and even the world. These fears continue to run through your head and get bigger to the point that even though you lie in bed you can’t fall asleep. 

The faint sound of Billie and Audrey’s even breaths is soothing and you’re happy to see them both fast asleep with peaceful expressions. Normally you don’t catch them sleeping, but whenever you do they both always look so beautiful. 

Just being able to watch both women makes your heart feel like it’s going to burst. You love them so much. 

The way Billie flirts and compliments you all of the time especially when you’re down on yourself. Or how she showers you with gifts and will always hold you close. 

And Audrey. Sweet Audrey is always there to cheer you up and notices anytime you don’t seem to be doing well. She even did today. And if you ever question how essential you are to this relationship; she’ll immediately share how essential you are to them. If something happened to either of them in all of this—

That’s when you come back to reality and feel the tears streaming down your cheeks. Before you can get loud enough to wake them you slip out of bed and leave the bedroom. The first place you walk to is the kitchen where you get a glass of water, sniffling through your tears. 

Then you step over to the living room and take a seat on the couch, quickly finishing off the water before setting down the glass. While you feel anxious enough to stay awake, your body is also worn down from the panicked state you have been in all day. So you play a game on your phone. The minimal strategy is enough to distract you and as you begin to feel your stress and anxiety fading you hear from behind you, “What are you doing out here little mouse?”

Even though you recognize Billie’s voice, you still gasp and whip your head around to see her standing in the doorway with slightly mussed hair. But she still looks breathtaking. 

You look down and shake your head while muttering, “Nothing.” 

That makes her brows furrow and she comes closer as she replies, “It doesn’t seem like nothing, babygirl.” Then walks around the back of the couch to sit beside you. At first you turn to look away, but Billie softly says, “Hey,” then she brings her hands up to cup your face before guiding you to look directly at her. However, her brows are slightly furrowed when she asks, “Have you been crying?”

While she keeps your head from turning away, you can’t keep eye contact as you reply, “I-It’s stupid. I’m just being dumb.” The medium gently shushes you, skimming the pads of her thumbs along your cheek while murmuring, “Whatever is bothering you isn’t stupid, y/n. And you aren’t dumb. Please tell me what’s bothering you, darling. You can tell me anything.” 

While your mind scolds you for being weak right now and screams that she doesn’t really care, your exterior cracks and, after swallowing enough to feel like you can speak, you barely whisper, “I’m scared.”

Billie scoots closer, still keeping your face cradled in her smooth hands as she asks in a voice still husky with sleepiness, “Oh, honey. Did Audrey or I do something to upset you?” 

Right away you shake your head and reply, “No, never. It’s just…when I went to the grocery store today it was packed with people rushing around and grabbing things.” 

Then you take a deep breath before shakily continuing, “All anyone could talk about was the coronavirus. A-And I saw store employees being yelled at by multiple people. And when I was in the cleaning section there was this elderly woman looking for toilet paper—”

Your voice catches and you get teary-eyed as you whimper, “A-And the shelf was completely empty. P-People were pushing and shoving and she was just trying to pass. She looked so defeated and it—it broke my heart. That’s someone’s grandma and if someone did that to my grandma I would be so upset.”

You begin to shed tears as you continue, “Then when I got home, my sister and mother both contacted me about the coronavirus saying what I should do. Even though they were trying to be helpful I-I got overwhelmed. And just watching the news while knowing you and Audrey are traveling—”

You let out a choked sob before rasping, “I’m just so scared, Billie.” 

While you can’t see her face due to your blurred tears, the medium brings her hands away from your face to gather you close to her while murmuring, “Oh, sweetheart.” In response to her warm hug, you wrap your arms around her and cry into her shoulder. Then you say between gasps, “I-I told you I’m being dumb.” 

Billie strokes one hand up and down your back in a slow motion, softly shushing you while soothing, “You’re not being dumb, y/n. These are scary times. And I’m sorry we never asked about the grocery store or how you were feeling.”

After a while, you feel yourself begin to settle and merely let out soft hiccups whilst nuzzling into the bend of her neck. Her smooth, soft hair gently caresses your forehead and cheeks and she keeps quiet besides softly shushing you, holding you close to her. 

You feel spent as you mumble, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for all of that to come out.” 

Billie guides you to look at her and wipes away the stray tears on your sensitive, puffy cheeks as she murmurs, “You have no reason to be sorry, y/n. I sometimes forget what a kind, tender heart you have. You care about others around you so much it’s no wonder everything feels overwhelming right now. But that’s nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about.”

Normally people would call you a “worry wart” or just tell you to stop being anxious, but you’ve never been told that it’s due to caring about others. You do care. And being anxious doesn’t have to be bad or make you a bad person. It just took someone rephrasing what you have been feeling in a way your own brain wouldn’t allow.

You’re not the problem. 

You give Billie a wobbly smile and whisper, “Thank you, Billie.” She smiles back and leans towards you, running her nose against yours as she replies, “You’re welcome, babygirl.” 

You keep quiet for a moment, feeling better. However, you straighten up and while you wish this wasn’t nagging at you, you need to know. So, you ask, “Will Audrey really still travel? Or you? It seems so dangerous to travel at the moment and I don’t really want to be left alone—”

Your girlfriend silences your worries with a soft kiss before soothing, “It’s ok, y/n. All of my travel ended up getting postponed. So, I’ll be home with you the whole time.” 

That confirmation leads you to let out a breath of relief and you nod. Then Billie loosens her hold on you and suggests, “You should tell Audrey how you feel.” 

Her idea makes you stiffen up and you look down to the lacy hem of Billie’s baby doll nightgown as you reply, “I don’t know…she talked about working so hard for this role and I don’t want to be the selfish girlfriend and take that away from her.”

The medium chuckles, making you look to her face and she says with a smile, 

“Now y/n, you know how dramatic Audrey can be at times. I know without a doubt if you told her how you feel she would reconsider. And, if nothing else, she wants to hear from you, honey.” 

She has a point. You bite your lip, pondering her words for a moment before slowly relenting, “I guess I could say something to her…”

Billie’s grin grows and she gives your cheek a small pinch before assuring, “I know you can do it. And I’ll be with you the whole time.” So, you return to your bedroom, holding Billie’s hand the whole time, and when you step into the darkened room, you see Audrey nestled under the covers breathing deeply.

Billie leads you over to the side of the bed the actress is closest to. Then, with one encouraging nod, she releases your hand and you slowly climb up onto the bed. Once you’re on, you place a hand on the her shoulder, gently nudging her while whispering, “Audrey?” 

She shifts in her sleep and turns to face you, opening her bleary eyes while she drowsily slurs, “Yes, darling?”

As soon as she shows any semblance of being awake you wrap your arms around her middle and pull her close to you, making her squeak in shock as you begin to plead, 

“Please don’t leave LA, Audrey! Please! I know you worked hard to get this role, but I don’t want you to get sick or be separated from me and Billie. Just please stay home. I know I’m being selfish, but I love you both so much and don’t want anything to happen to you. I’ll do anything you want to get you to stay home. Anything—”

While her senses are still fogged over from sleep, she lets out a low chuckle, hugging you back before she croakily soothes, “Hey, hey it’s ok, sweetheart.” making you stop your pleas. 

Then she pulls back to see your face when she asks, “You love us?” That’s when you register that you said those words. 

While you haven’t said those words out loud before, you don’t regret saying them. 

You nod, your cheeks warming as you look to her and shyly answer, “Yes. I-I love you, Audrey.” Then you look to Billie who still stands beside you both and say, “I love you too, Billie.”

Both women smile and Billie murmurs, “We love you too, y/n.” Then Audrey presses a kiss to the corner of your lips before huskily purring, “We both love you so much, darling girl.” You sheepishly smile and turn to face her again, sharing a brief kiss on the lips. 

Then she looks to you and apologizes, “I didn’t mean to frighten you earlier. While we’ll be tying up a couple loose ends the next couple days, it looks like any further production has been delayed. So I’ll be here. Ok?” While you feel bad, knowing how much Audrey loves acting, you can’t help but feel relieved. You nod and reply, “Ok.”

Billie starts to join you both on the bed, so you shift to let her have room. However, she takes your wrist and teases, “And just where do you think you’re going, babygirl?” 

You look to her smoldering gaze and slowly answer, “My side?” The medium chuckles and murmurs, “Oh no, that just won’t do. You can stay in the middle so both of us can love on you.” Her sultry tone makes you blush, and you nod at her instructions, staying put while both women move to keep you in between them.

Once you’re settled, Audrey spoons you from behind and Billie snuggles into your front. For the first time today, you feel the weight completely lift off of your chest and within minutes your eyes begin to get droopy. 

Billie tucks your hair out of the way while soothing, “If you start to feel anxious again, you can always come to either of us.” Then Audrey kisses just behind your ear and murmurs, “Whatever happens we’ll get through this together, love.” You relax into their arms and nod, sleepily saying, “Thank you.” And even though you still have feelings of being worried and depressed, you begin to sense a pinprick of hope in the midst of the tumultuous unknown.

Tagged @marilynroselleprentiss​ @saviorinsilk​ @chokemepaulson​ @versonstar​ @find-me-a-constellation​ @cordwliagoode​ @psychobitchtess​ @midnight-lestrange​ @mysweetdelia​ @venablesbitch​ @peachesandlesbians​

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

Please remember: you matter, you’re important, and you add beauty to the world. Sending love. 💖

[rain-line]

Rating bandori outsoles!

Starting with THIS piece of shit:

saaya marching band boot [1.5/10]

absolutely disgusting.smooth as fuck like that stupid fucking “just finished sanding my tires so my car can run smoother” post🙄😒🤢 absolutely gross. it’s a boot, and yet, there are no grooves, whatsoever. 😷🤢

disgusting

[aya shoes!] [7.8/10]

amazing!😵 absolutely stunning! so many grooves and CUTE SHAPES TO BOOT (ba dum tss🥁)

looks like i could stick and rub my finger around insides the grooves nicely (i’m eyeing that top-most  horozontal groove and those pasupare logo grooves!🤤)

this is probably the cutest bandori sole i’ve ever seen!!🥺🤧💕

tae [3.5/10]

ok this one pains me to rate so low, bc tae is bae. unfortunately however.. these soles are shit.

the grooves are so shallow- barely any depth. most likely very soft & fuzzy to the touch, i dislike that. i don’t like shoe fuzz 😞tae... u can do better than this, sis 😔

himari hoe boot [2.5/10]

not a fan of leopard print, tbh, and i feel like it smells toxicly strong (like the leathery interior of a new car 😷 ugh)

i appreciate the depth of the heel, and the fact that there are grooves & patterns on the underside at all, but also... i just dont vibe with it😬

sports festival hagumi [3.7/10]

honestly- i’m a lil disappointed with this one😞ur a sports queen, babey, how could u let it come to this 😭ur an ATHLETE and these are shoes u were meant to wear during a SPORTING EVENT! babey nooooo 😭 😭 😭 😭it’s just such a let down... so shallow... no depth u could barely get sand stuck in those grooves... smh😞hagu babey. i expected more from u.😞

newspaper aya [6/10]

the soles r not visible, however, these are her pasupare practice gym shoes,  THEREFORE, i KNOW there must be decent grooves on the underside.😌

sayo [6/10]

technically, her shoes are not visible in this photo, however, u must have great traction to be able to hold this pose and twerk like that at the same time- so i find this to be quite acceptable 😌

initial ran sole [3/10]

while i appreciate the depth of the grooves, they wouldn’t make much of an impressive silhouette from a side view.

also the design of the sole creates a “clenched” image in my mind- like that of an asshole. i don’t like it. 🤢

kanon shoe teeth [3/10]

bitch im cryin’, too 😭WHY does the pattern look like a mouth full of teeth 😭😭noooooooooo I HATE ITTT 😭😭😭 it’s a whole ass giant dentureeee NOOOOOOOOOOOOO 😭 😭 😭 😭

6th afterglow fear shoes [6/10]

school slippers

while there certainly isn’t much depth, i feel like the raised patterns would feel nice to rub my finger along. i like the colour 😌plus, it just looks so squishy and chewy🤤it makes me happy

HINAAAAAAAA!!!! 😵 😵 😵 [9.7/10]!!!!

what an ABSOLUTE. UNIT. OF A SOLE!!!!

i had always been in AWE of this card. utterly mesmerized ever since i first saw it way back when it came out and never really understood why at the time.

but i understand now. i understand all.

everything about these soles are AMAZING.

THE FUCKING DEPTH!!

the simpkle, yet totally SOLID pattern

THE ILLUMINATION OF THE BLUE LIGHT FROM THE WATER, ADDING ATMOSPHERE 😵😵😵

we get a spectacular side view of the boot which shows a nice jagged silhouette

it’s so stunning, i feel brought to tears 😭😭😭 🥺🥺

oh, hina, i just wanna say- thank you so much for providing the best outsole in all of bandori shoes  history🙏🏻 😭 😵 🥺 i don’t even have to finish the list to know that this is supreme- this is the greatest good of all...

would absolutely love to run my finger along the ridges, and smell them new- fresh out of the box🥰☺️

chisato’s survivor boots [8/10]

while the soles are not visible, this shoe would most denifitely be similar to hina’s- just a tan colour swatch. her pose shoes off the silhouette pretty well. it would- without a doubt- hurt like hell if she stepped on my finger wearing those.

i love it 🥰

saaya, again? [4.9/10]

oh? an attempt to redeem urself, saaya? 🤔

there are many things i like in this card, such as that voluptuously filled chocolate coronet, and ur sick jeans😎unfortunately, i am here to rate ur shoes.

😔these aren’t the worst, but they aren’t too special, either. the grooves seem nice and deep in a manner that is acceptable for the type of shoe. i like the waffle pattern- i’d like to pat and rub it🥳

i guess it’s kind of romantic in a ‘girl next door’ way, but i’m more of a boots girl. o well 🙈💖

moca hoe sandals [1.5/10]

sis, i...

???

flat AF???? this is an ironing board?????

what sound do these even MAKE when walking? some kind of harsh, scuffling sound, no doubt  🤢

these are awful, plus, u would bang/scrape ur toes so bad when walking with these on concrete steps! OUCH 😖

kaoru [4/10]

everything about this card- this outfit- was 💯, girl, u were doin so WELL... but u neglected the sole...  😔

i understand that a ‘clean’ look ties together the princely image,but, for the future, i think adding at least some kind of pattern or at least just ONE groove would greatly improve the overall look 😔please...

i am one disappointed koneko-chan

=============================================================

RANKINGS: COMPLETE!! IN SUMMARY:

WORST SOLE[S]🗑️📉 ARE AWARDED TO SAAYA BOOTS AND MOCA SANDALS!! 😷🤢

BEST SOLE😍🥾💕IS AWARDED TO SURVIVOR HINA BOOTS!!!! 🥳👏🐯🍾💝💖

wow! just amazing, ladies!!🤗well done!!

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

and now, for a breakdown of the ranking criteria!:

what makes an undersole so great? 🤔well 🙈💕

PATTERN- having an attractive design

DEPTH- typically, the deeper the groove,t he better. it should make ur finger feel like it’s exploring a nice, cozy, miniature cavern!

PROFILE- a good side-view of a sole is very jagged, or at least makes it very obviously known that there are many a great grooves underneath this boot! an alluring silhouette beckons u to come see more😳*kisses hand*😚🥰beautiful

TRACTION- practicality is always a plus 😌

PAIN- it should hurt like hell if my finger were stepped on (note- pain factor is for FINGER, ONLY😡nothing dirty here😤)

============================================================

DISCLAIMER!!!

I DO NOT CURRENTLY, AND NEVER HAVE, LIKED FEET. 😷 😷 I LIKE OUTSOLES- THE UNDERSIDES OF SHOES, BUT MORE SPECIFICALLY, OF BOOTS

FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK 😭 😭 😭 😭

[melyaliz]

Remember me pt 1

Fandom: My Hero Academia 

Summary: One moment Olive is just living her life in America the next it is 5 years in the future and this incredibly out of her league blonde is speaking to her in a langue she barely knows calling her his wife.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x OC 

Notes: This idea came to me last week while I was supposed to be prepping to edit my novel. I was like “I should just write the idea out.” A week later and over 30k words... I now bring it to you. 

ALSO! I have a newsletter you guys! It’s where I will keep you updated on on novel (and other) related things. My website and short story should be up next Friday to stay tuned for that :) 

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST

-0-0-0--- Olive ---0-0-0-

Black eyes, rimmed with a thin blue line. Glowing in a way that was almost predatory like. It reminded her of a shark moving toward her. She felt like she was in water, or using her querk. Slowly trying to escape from something that was much faster in a black abyss. 

 Nothing but those glowing blue eyes were visible. 

 Olive’s lungs filled with hot dry air making her cough. The taste of ash and smoke filling her lungs as she tried to pull her consciousness awake. Blinking she saw a car on fire in front of her along with small fires spread across the parking lot of a large mall. One she did not recognize.   

 Taking a step back she looked around trying to get her bearings. Her eyes slowly adjusting to the world around her. It felt like a dream as if someone had just thrown her into this situation. No memories of how she got here or what was going on. 

Maybe she was dreaming? 

Touching her face she blinked a few times as she saw people screaming and running from the building. They were saying things but she couldn’t quite make out what. As if they were just making noises.

  What was going on? What happened? Where was she? Panic slowly rising in her chest with the thought that she had no idea what to do or where to go. Her breaths become shallow as panic began to wash over her. 

 “Olive! Olive!” the sound of her name being called broke her out of her stupor as a tall red-haired man ran up to her grabbing her arms. A stream of Japanese came flowing out of his mouth and she was lost. Only knowing a few phrases she blinked up at this stranger.

 “I don’t know…?” she said slowly hoping he would understand, “English.” she said “No Japanese?” 

 He looked taken back for a moment “You go” he said in broken English, accent heavy, pointing at the street. “Police will help, wait there?” 

 Nodding she followed the crowd and stood with the others waiting for Red to come back. Not that it mattered since he wasn’t going to be able to talk to her. But also, as she was slowly realizing by overhearing people talking around her, that she wasn’t in America anymore and had NO idea where to go or what to do. So Red was her best option at this point. Maybe she could use a translator app? Her mind went into overdrive trying to think of what to do. And then, as it always did when she was panicking her thoughts turned to the only person who was her calm center. 

 Eliott.

 Where was he? Reaching around she realized she had a purse with her. One she didn’t recognize. It was way too nice. Was that a Chanel label? Holding up the bag she looked it over totally confused. Did she steal this? Ok, she was dreaming. There was no way this was real. 

 But it felt so real. 

 Frowning she rifled through the bag looking for her phone. She just wanted to call Eliott. Desperation filling her body, her heart pounding so hard in her chest it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. She just wanted her husband. 

 There was a huge explosion and a few people cheered all of them speaking excitedly in Japanese to each other. The excitement getting louder and louder, people pointing. Turning Olive stood up with the crowd to see a blonde-haired man slowly walking toward the crowd dragging a horned man by the collar of his shirt. Behind him, the red-haired man from earlier held three others on his shoulders. 

 As he grew closer the blonde turned his eyes meeting Olive’s. His red eyes were so intense that something in her stomach dropped. A weird calm washing over her as he studied her. He felt like something from another life. Dejavu. A dream long forgotten. 

 “Olive,” his voice was gravely as he dropped the man he had been dragging walking toward her. Looking down at her he placed his arms on her shoulders “what the hell you baka?” he said leaning forward pulling the dazed woman into a strong hug. He smelled like smoke and something sweet, like sugar. It kind of reminded her of camping. However, why this man was hugging her she had NO idea. 

 And then he pulled back slightly, his eyes fluttering for a moment, leaning toward her face as if he was about to kiss her.  Olive, who was still trying to gain her bearings, felt her whole body tense in pure shock. 

 What.

 The.

 Actual. 

 Fuck? 

 “Dude I’m married,” she said swatting away his arms from her side before pushing him away. Her face flushed, eyes glassy as tears threatened to spill over from feeling so overwhelmed by it all.. 

 The blonde’s eyes grew wide studying her for a moment, then gently his hand moved from her shoulder to her forehead speaking in Japanese. The red-haired man had come up behind him and seemed to be responding to what he was saying back. A flush of anger spread over Olive, she had just told his guy she was married and he was still trying to come on to her. Her already very frayed emotions were so tight Olive couldn’t deal with this anymore. Jaw clenched she swatted away this way too friendly guy’s hand.

 “Look. No I’m...” she held up her hand and that’s when she saw it. 

 A ring, but it wasn’t hers.

 “What?” she looked down at her hand confused. Was she even in her own body? What was going on? Her hands looked like hers? Do people recognize their own hands? It felt like her body. But how could you tell? 

 It was too much for her. Her heart pounding in her ears and that campfire smell was all around her filling her lungs. Her breath became shallow as colored spots filled her vision. 

 And then everything went black. 

 -0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 You get one true love in your life. One person, you are meant to be with. Olive had always believed that. Especially after meeting Eliott. He had a killer sense of humor and was always so calm. For a girl who always seemed to deal with anxiety and self-doubt the dirty blonde haired man who would rather be enjoying life than dealing with the drama was everything, Olive had wanted and needed in her life. 

 It wasn’t some epic romance, it was just… normal. From the first time he brought her out for burgers and to watch fireworks. 

 They ended up in the wrong location missing the entire show. But it didn’t matter, they were too busy talking about their lives. They had ended up staying on the side of that grassy hill just laughing and joking around until 2 am. 

 He fit so easily into her life Olive had a hard time remembering what it was like without him. She wasn’t as happy that was for sure. 

 And then one day he was gone. 

 Like a flash from the cameras, he would use.

 As an action photographer, he was hired by both sports and hero agencies for promotional work. Olive had worried about him when he had gotten the job  but with his quirk of being able to walk on walls, he normally could stay out of the way enough to keep himself safe. 

 Until a month ago when he wasn’t. 

 A month ago when he was dead. 

 And Olive’s life wasn’t the same. 

 A month after a loss is such a weird time. It’s like a limbo between everyone expecting her to be better and her inability to stop crying. 

 Olive still woke up reaching out for him in the middle of the night only to find an empty bed. Still felt like she could see him around every corner. Still waited for him to come through that door making some snarky joke about some idiot who walked into his shot. 

 His presence had left such a huge hole in her life and a bigger one in her heart. 

 That morning she woke up rubbing her swollen eyes looking at herself in the mirror. She was tired of this. Tired of being sad. Tired of missing him. Just tired. Selfishly she just wanted to skip this part of the morning process and go back to being happy again. After all, there was no way she could be sad forever... right? They say time heals all wounds. (Whoever they were.) But she wanted that healing now. 

 But no one could do that but her. 

 So sitting down she opened her laptop. Emails from her boss, editor, and an older client of hers littered her email. Scrolling through she tried to decide which one she wanted. She didn’t have the creative energy to talk to her editor and her boss could wait until Monday. 

 But maybe ghostwriting would help distract her? The client she used to work with had a new story and he was desperate. And in a way she was too. 

 So clicking the email she started to read what he had to say. 

 And then she was here. 

 In the parking lot of a burning mall in Japan. 

 The hospital she woke up in was sterile white reminding her of the inside of an apple store. Soft lights filled the room as her eyes fluttered open. She looked around slowly sitting up. Her head was pounding and part of her just wanted to lay back down. But she also wanted some water, her throat feeling ashy crying out for moisture. And maybe an answer to what the hell was going on? 

 Slowly Olive pulled herself into a sitting position, her body ached from tension but she didn’t really see any other major injuries. Looking around the room praying for a glass of water her eyes instead found a phone sitting on the table next to her. A text on top of the slue of notifications caught her attention.

 Lilly Pond: Are you ok? Call me when you get up.

 Her best friend. Oh thank god, someone she recognized. This meant she could rule out getting teleported to a different dimension off her list of what the fuck was going on. 

 Her heart pounded in her chest as she quickly unlocked the phone. Thank god for smart technology and face recognition. (She wouldn’t have known what to do without it). Looking down at the phone there was a brief moment where she forgot why she had opened her phone. Distracted by the image of three young children who she didn’t recognize looked back up at her from her phone background. 

 Dear god, please don’t tell her she had kids along with a strange wedding ring. Her heart couldn’t handle a full-on Overboard situation. She felt sick and desperate to hear a familiar voice. Something she recognized. 

 Clicking the name she fumbled for a bit until she figured out how to call. 

 “Olive?” Lilly’s voice was desperate, “Olive are you ok? Katsuki told me…” 

 “What? Who?” Olive cut her friend off confused by this Katsuski, “Lilly I don’t know where I am… I… I think I’m in Japan.” 

 There was a long pause on the other end. “Yeah Olive… you…” Another long pause, Olive could tell her bestie was trying to remain calm for her sake, “What do you remember?” In the background, Olive heard a little voice say something. But Lilly didn’t have kids… right? 

 “I… Eliott’s funeral, uhhh going back to work. I think it’s been maybe a month since he died?” who was she kidding, she knew it was 4 weeks and 3 days. But she didn't want to sound like she was counting. 

 “Olive, it’s been over 5 years since Eliott died.” 

 Olive felt like she was going to throw up. Wait... what?

 “What?” she felt like there was a mound of sand in her throat. She wanted to gag at the feeling. Her heart raced so fast she couldn’t breathe. She was suffocating. “But, that’s not possible. Eliott.. I… Lilly why can’t I remember anything!?! Why the FUCK AM I IN JAPAN!?!” 

 “Olive you need to calm down...”

 Olive wanted Eliott, she wanted his stormy gray-blue eyes and calm voice to tell her to just breathe. ‘If you're breathing you're alive, just keep breathing.’ was what he would always say when she was working herself up over something that probably didn't matter. She missed him, she wanted him. 

 “No” Olive sobbed covering her mouth, “I...” 

 “Is Kasusuki there? Olive? Nate? call Kasushk she’s freaking out..�� Lilly’s voice called off the phone to her fiance, well it would be husband at this point. Wait was that little voice? 

 The blonde from earlier came rushing in cutting off her millions of thoughts. He was holding his phone to his ear but quickly hung up as he saw her. Those red eyes wide as he walked up to her. “Olive…” he said softly as he approached. At the sound of her name, she shrunk back shaking her head slightly.

 “Lilly, I honestly don’t know what’s going on.” 

 “That’s your husband Olive.” Lilly’s voice said back, “You moved to Japan with him two and a half years ago.” 

 “I’m going to be sick.” she choked out. “This is a dream, I can't…” 

 “Oh Olive” Lilly’s voice sounded far away as Olive felt dizzy.

 “No, no no.” the blonde said -what did Lilly call him? Suki?- gently prying the phone out of her hand, “Calm down, focus. Don’t pass out.” 

 “I don’t know what’s going on,” Olive told him, trying to make him understand. Trying to make herself understand.

 “Yeah I can tell.” he said, “They don’t know why. They said you were fine.” 

 “They?” 

 “The Doctors.” 

 “Oh.” her voice trailed off for a moment as he picked up her phone Lilly still on the other end. 

 “I have her. She will call you back,” he said before hanging up. A flash of anger folded Olive. How dare he just hang up on her best friend.

 “Uhhh excuse me! I was talking to her.” 

 “You can call her back, I need you to talk to me,” he said brushing away her comment. A flicker of a smile flashed over his face for a moment and Olive had no idea why. This wasn’t funny. Why would he be laughing? 

 “Who are you?” Olive said studying him unsure about the man next to her. She trusted Lilly when she said she was married to him but also… she didn’t trust him. 

 She didn’t know him. 

 “I’m your husband,” his voice softened as his gaze roamed over her as if looking for injuries. Probably not believing the doctors. “What is the last thing you remember?” 

 “I… Eliott.” her voice was soft and she didn’t miss the way he flinched at the name. “He… He’s dead.” 

 “Yeah” he said nodded gently brushing away a strand of her dark hair away from her face.

 “And now I’m in Japan.” She was in shock, trying to make sense of it all. 

 “Yeah,” was his simple resonance.  

 “And I don’t know how,” she concluded unsure how to explain to this complete stranger that he was, in fact, a complete stranger to her.  

 He sighed looking down at her hands, his finger brushing over the large yellow diamond on her left hand. Olive looked down as well, it was much larger and impressive than her ring. But… it felt so wrong. Looking back up at him she felt like she was going to cry again.

 “Are you going to cry?” he asked, it sounded like a statement. She shook her head already feeling hot tears welling up in her eyes.

 “No” 

 He sighed, it sounded frustrated and made her heart pound with an anxiety she hadn’t felt in years. But he still hugged her, pulling her close enveloping her in that sweet warm scent she had smelled at the mall. However, this time in the calm of the hospital room it was confronting. Or as comforting as a stranger hugging you could be.  

 She felt his arms tightened around her as she let out a shaky sob. His grip was so strong as if he was scared she would run away.

 But where would she go if she tried?  

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Story Tag: @0hmydeku @inumorph @it-jinxed-us @myraticm