#the rain keeps people away and so does my umbrella

[fly-sky-high-09]

I love you rain!!!

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Playing Video Games With Gen

Gen Narumi X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Arguing, reader’s temper flares and she destroys something, reader is a little stressed, sprinkle of angst, fluff at the end

Word Count: 894

(A/N:) This has been in my drafts for a good long while! But now it will finally see the light of day! I hope everyone is enjoying the Kaiju No. 8 anime so far! I am! Saturdays have become so exciting for me and I’ve been watching the episodes over and over. I just adore this story and I can’t wait to see more moments come to life! But until next time enjoy this little piece! Happy reading! ~Countess

Dating Gen Narumi had it’s ups and it’s downs. But the First Division leader was good at what he does. From killing kaiju to slaughtering online players in the gaming universe. While you enjoyed playing video games every now and again, life always seemed to take up majority of your time. That and the threats of kaiju constantly threatening the innocent civilians. So it was a rare moment when you got to sit down to play by yourself, let alone with the man known as the Force’s Strongest Combatant. 

You found yourself in one such rare moment. It was a rainy day and so far no kaiju threat had emerged. So Gen invited you into his office where he wanted to play games. Surrounded by his figurines and sitting in a comfortable chair before his large gaming setup, you were furiously smashing buttons while Gen sat at your side smirking obnoxiously. Gritting your teeth, trying to come back at the last second only to lose the round. Cursing viciously, you were just about to smash the controller when Gen’s larger hand encircled your wrist.

“These controllers are very expensive babe,” he smirked.

“You can afford a new one captain,” you snarled, temper still flaring. Still Gen refused to release your wrist. Guiding you to sit back down, he brought your hand close to his face, where he brushed tender kisses to the skin of your wrist. You started calming down until he bit down on your wrist playfully. With a hiss you ripped yourself away from his grip and sent his precious controller flying. It shattered against the wall with a satisfying crash.

Normally Gen would freak out, bursting out with a childish tantrum. But as he glared at you, emotions raging inside his eyes, you knew you royally screwed up. Quietly Gen walked over to the destroyed controller, scooping up the pieces and throwing them into the trash. Guilt eating at you, you knew that your temper got out of hand, so you walked to him to help him clean up the mess you made.

“I’m sorry Gen,” you apologized immediately. “I’ll buy you a new one. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He shook his head, “It’s okay. I’ll replace it. I shouldn’t have teased you so much.”

“No it’s not you. I lost my temper and all you were doing was playing with me like you usually do. I guess I just have so much stress on me right now. It’s no excuse but I’ll try better.”

“I’ll let you win some,” he offered.

“Ha! Don’t let me win you goof,” you laughed tossing the last plastic piece into the wastebasket. “It’s no fun that way!”

“Well that was my only extra controller,” he ran his fingers through his two toned hair. “Wanna go get a new one together? The walk may do you some good if you’ve been overwhelmed here lately.”

“It’s raining though,” you whined.

Gen chuckled, standing back up and offering you his hand. “It’s okay! You aren’t sweet enough to melt!” You stuck out your tongue but took his hand nonetheless. 

Walking down the streets of Japan hand in hand with Gen Narumi was something you probably would never get used to. With the stares and whispers encircling you both. It didn’t help that his phone would keep pinging in his pocket from people posting about the handsome captain whenever he made an appearance. Normally he would be scrolling through all said posts and ignore you, but on this occasion as he held your hand and the umbrella above your heads, he could do no such thing. You stepped into him tightly, enjoying the warmth of his body heat as the rain relentlessly beat against the umbrella.

Making it to Gen’s normal electronic haunt and purchase in tow, you both made it back to Gen’s office in record time. It helped that the rain only had picked up heavier as you both were out. Setting it up and handing it over. You couldn’t help but notice that he had purchased the controller in your favorite color. 

“This one will be yours whenever you want to play,” he kissed your cheek. “And maybe if it’s yours you’ll take better care of it.”

You laughed before kissing his cheek back, “Thank you Gen. You know how to treat a girl right.”

“Of course! Now ready to lose some more?”

“Who knows I may get lucky,” you grinned viciously a plan already cooking in your mind.

You wound up winning a couple of rounds, though you did have to resort to cheating. Gen couldn’t play when you knocked his chair over during a critical time in the round. And apparently he didn’t enjoy having feet anywhere around his head. So you took to sticking your toes against his cheek or blocking his vision, with said feet. Though you did pay dearly for cheating as Gen tickled you mercilessly, leaving you both breathless sprawled out on the floor. You couldn’t help but wish for more easy days like this. And though it had started out rough, this was what you needed. Just to be around the man you love and have fun. It was like the tension you had been dragging around for weeks melted away, just from the looks he gave you and you knew that Gen needed this as well.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

My Blessing

Back when Eddie was still human, he used to think it would be incredibly cool to be a vampire. Child of the night, Nosferatu, all that stuff from his beloved books. He would be untouchable and the people who wanted to hurt him just for being different would wither away and die of old age while he'd still be the same. Maybe he'd visit them in their dying hour and sneer at them, taunt them as they were about to see what awaits beyond. All of that used to sound so good.

As he's learned during last 80-ish years, being a vampire sucks (no pun intended).

He sees it all. World wars. AIDS epidemic. Satanic panic. More and more pain, people wasting away before his eyes. The music is cool, but he wonders if he'll grow tired of it all. Eddie is still young, he doesn't want to believe that this is all there is. But each year, each decade makes him more and more hopeless.

And he's so, so lonely. He still has Wayne, his vampire uncle (he categorically denies the term "father" or "maker"), but he sometimes too resigned, too used to all the pain and violence. He doesn't know many other vampires and making any sort of a connection with a human is painful to think about. People are so fragile.

He's always loved turning into a bat and just flying around the city, avoiding the curious eyes of humans and finding lone vantage points, observing the night life on the streets. One of his favorite spots is on top of the Harrington bank, a building from the 1920s with old bronze statues and old, tall windows. He started visiting the ledge in late 1980s, sometimes spending the entire night there. He'd land on the ledge and turn back to his real form, plopping down next to a statue of a young man. It's so human-like, Eddie forgets it's just an object, a piece of art, and talks to it. He tells it about the stuff that has been happening in the world, all that's fucked up but also the good things, how he saw a group of girls chasing away a stalker of a random lady, a homeless guy giving his last few bites to a stray dog. How a kid he used to know in the 80s is now all grown up and has children of his own. He sometimes wonders who made the statue, but there is no signature, no mark, just that pretty face looking down at the street, lost in thought.

It's on a stormy night in 2022 that it happens. Eddie lands in his favorite spot, lights up a cigarette (immortal lungs are a great thing to have) and talks to the statue, as always. Tells it how he actually wrote a novel and got it published, summers are long and the daylight doesn't kill him but it sure hurts, rambles about how he got Wayne his first flannel shirt and it was love at the first sight. The rain is thick, heavy, but Eddie likes it, it makes him feel a bit more alive. He hears thunder, closer and closer, but the lightning is probably somewhere behind him, he doesn't see it.

That is, until it hits the statue, and Eddie panics because sure, it was just an object, but it was like his friend, it was a constant in his life, what is he going to do-

And then the statue straightens its spine and groans.

Eddie's cigarette falls somewhere into the streets and burns a hole in the umbrella of a lady bitching about the undeserved help provided to the poor. Not that he notices. His eyes are glued to the statue that stretches its arms and runs its fingers through the thick hair that suddenly has color, a sun-kissed brown, and then it turns to Eddie and smiles.

"Oh finally, I was waiting for ages to introduce myself. Hi. Thanks for keeping me company all those years. I'm Steve. Steve Harrington."

Eddie shakes the offered hand in daze and mutters "Eddie, Eddie Munson" before promptly turning into a bat and...what? Does he want to run away? Does he want to shriek his little heart out and never come back? Probably not. Not with Steve smiling at him like he's the best thing in the whole world. So he just lands on Steve's outstretched hand and squeaks "Still Eddie Munson, only pocket size."

And Steve, bless his heart - does he have one? Do statues have hearts? - just laughs and tucks Eddie under his old-fashioned jacket to protect him from the rain. "Oh, I know. The first time you landed here and turned back, I thought I'd finally gone crazy."

He opens a window behind them and climbs inside with Eddie, a window that's always been dark, the only dark room in the whole building. And then they talk. Well, Steve does.

That's when Eddie learns the room is Steve's, preserved, stocked and cleaned throughout the decades. That he's the only son of the founder of the bank, Richard Harrington, now fortunately long dead and burning in hell. That even before the Great Depression hit, the bank was facing difficulties and Richard Harrington decided to make a deal with...something. Something ancient and lurking in New York, something feeding off the misery of people living there.

That's when Eddie learns that Richard Harrington offered his only son to preserve his fortune.

He just stares as Steve shrugs, retelling his story as if it was no big deal, finding a change of clothes for both of them in a huge closet full of things both old and new, a strange blend of fashion spanning last century. "It was a deal for one hundred years. One hundred years of prosperity for one hundred years of...that. I guess my father felt a little bit guilty afterwards because he included in his will that I'd always have a place to come back to. This room. And some financial security too, that's what he'd said before he passed away. He used to talk to me through that window sometimes, after my mother drank herself to death."

"Uhhh." Edward Munson, ever the eloquent fantasy book author, has nothing better to say.

He turns back to Eddie, smiling at him and offering a black t-shirt. "I don't think he knew I could hear him, that I heard and saw everything. Still, nice to know he cared...as much as he was humanly able to." The smile doesn't falter as he adds: "I don't want to sound pushy, but maybe you should turn back to change clothes? You're still wet."

And oh, Eddie is still a bat. Yep. With a sound that sounds like a plop, he transforms back and takes the t-shirt. "Thank you. Steve. Uh. That's  fucked up, man," he offers lamely.

"Oh yeah, it sucked. Well, used to," he nudges Eddie, tossing him a towel when he sees his hair dripping on the floor. "But then you started showing up. Talking to me." Now his smile is slightly smaller, sad, and Eddie wants to visit Richard Harrington's grave and punch his remains, build them into a bird feeder, revive the asshole and kill him again. "It was just...so lonely. I had no way of telling you, but when you started visiting and just, kept showing up, almost every day, it felt like a blessing."

Eddie swallows, his throat suddenly dry. "A blessing?"

"Yeah." Steve turns to him and the sincerity in his eyes is so intense Eddie feels like turning into a bat again and flying in circles, shrieking into the night. "You were my blessing, Eddie," he says as he squeezes his hand.

And Eddie just stares, his undead heart breaking for this boy, cursed just as horribly if not worse than he is. "You know I'm not...not human, right?" he whispers but his hand doesn't leave Steve's. "I guess you can probably tell from the bat thing, or that I'm literally the room temperature-"

"-or the fact that you once told me that it's a shame I'm not alive because I look delicious and you're sure my blood would be too," add Steve with a mischievous smirk.

"Uh. Shit, yeah. That too," Eddie stutters, trying to recall all the embarrassing stuff he told Steve during the last thirty or so years. "That...doesn't bother you?"

Steve snorts in laughter and shakes his head. "You literally thought I was a piece of bronze an hour ago, man. Does that bother you? Did you prefer me when I didn't talk?"

Eddie scoffs at that, offended. "Hell no. You were just a pretty face, but now you're a pretty face with a ton of personality. I...you know, you were my blessing too, I think. Even if you couldn't answer, I didn't feel as much alone next to you. Is that weird to say?" 

The squeeze of Steve's fingers gives him the answer he needs, but he still melts inside when he hears "not at all. I just hope you won't get bored of me now that I'm...different," he whispers, staring at their joined fingers. "You'll probably find me boring. I don't know much about what's going on outside. I could watch and you told me a lot, but...uh. The world seems so hectic and fast-paced, it will probably take me a while to catch up."

And Eddie has to laugh because that worry is so strange to hear voiced out loud, as if Steve being alive, breathing and next to him, as if that made him something less. "Oh just you wait, Steve. You spent over thirty years listening to me ramble, now I'm expecting at least thirty years of your monologues so we can be even. You know my dirtiest secrets now and I'm a man with a thirst for knowledge. Really," he adds because the young man next to him is still silent, "you have nothing to worry about. I've kept you company and you have done the same for me...and it works for us. So what's a little confusion about these modern days? Come on pretty boy. I will be your guide."

Steve gives him a smile that is so radiant Eddie thinks it should hurt, it should burn him like a torch, but it's just warm. Kind. "I can work with that."

Steve is the only human Eddie ever turns. He expects to agonize over it for much longer, to feel guilty, but Steve has already lived longer than he has and he still has thirst for life that is infectious, something that drives Eddie to join him, try new things, not mourn what is lost to time but be thankful that he has the chance to see it all. He finally wants to participate, to join the world again, not just observe it.

The first time Steve turns to a bat, he ends up flying in circles in absolute ecstasy, laughing and making the weirdest somersaults and loops. Eddie could watch him forever and the best part is - he can. And he does.

But before all that, Eddie brings Steve to see Wayne, to introduce him to his only family. Wayne shakes his hand and gruffly laughs: "Well, look at that. My boy has finally moved on from that statue."

Without missing a beat, Steve smiles at him and announces "oh not at all, sir. I'm the statue."

Eddie has some explaining to do, but for now, he just laughs.

[hotch33tos22]

Over thinkerShoto todoroki x reader

☁️Fluff

You’re in your room studying for exams listening to music when you hear the doorbell ring. You wonder who it could be, as you walk downstairs and open the door to find your boyfriend Shoto standing with an umbrella in the cold rain. He looks like he's been crying for his eyes are red and puffy and he keeps sniffling, ”Shoto! W-whats wrong?!” You practically yell bringing him inside “ are you o-okay!!?” You panic..He shakes his head not saying a word as you pull him inside, shutting the door behind him and he sets down his umbrella. He continues to sniffle and whimper softly as he stands there dripping water all over the floor….

“Oh shoto…”.. “I’ll be right back” .. you go into your room and grab a towel and a pair of your biggest clothes for him, returning towards him you hand him the clothes and towel “ change when you come out we can talk or if you stay like that you’ll get sick..”, “Okay…” He nods and replies as he grabs the towel and the clothes you give to him. He goes into the bathroom nearby and changes out of his completely soaked clothes that stick to his skin showing his complexion and into your dry ones. He was drowning in your hoodie but the pants seemed to fit him well, they were just a little short. He walks out of the bathroom looking a lot better than he did before but still looking upset.

“What wrong sho?..” you question him, “come on let’s sit on the sofa..” you tell him worryingly.. He nods once again doing as you say and sitting down on the sofa. He looks down at his lap for a few minutes as he wipes away the last of his tears and before finally speaking “…Can I ask you something?” He questions, “Anything sho!” You hold onto his hand, “You promise you won’t be mad?” -He looks at your hand holding his and grips it, squeezing your hand feeling its warmth.

He lets out a shaky sigh and grips your hand tighter while looking down “You don’t…have romantic feelings for anyone else besides me right?..”, “W-what?!” “What makes you think that?!” You exclaim shockingly, tightening your grip on his hand He lets out a shaky sigh and bites the inside of his cheek, “…There’s this boy in my class, he’s…well he’s pretty or whatever.. and I heard a few people in my class say that you two talk sometimes. I’m just overthinking it…I’m sorry..” you look at him with a confused look and ask “what do you mean? Sho the only pretty boy in class i have my eyes on is you..” you smile at him , He looks up you and gives you a shaky smile. He feels stupid now for even bringing it up and thinking such things “I didn’t mean to upset you I just…I got scared..I love you a lot and I’d be destroyed if you left me…I know I’m stupid for thinking things so easily it’s just…” he sighs..

“Oh sho.. I’d never leave you babe..” you look at him sadly, it pains your heart knowing he thinks this way… does he think you’d leave him for a “pretty boy” everyone finds attractive hell no that’s for sure.

His heart flutters slightly at your words, he lets out a shaky sigh and grips your hand tighter “Really?..You promise you won’t leave me for the pretty boy from your class?..” you scuffed “sho your the only pretty boy in my class… I don’t know any other boy that you could be talking about..” you giggle at his words, He looks away, realizing how stupid he sounds. He lets out a huff and puts his head in his free hand embarrassed “ I feel like a dumbass now..”

You laugh “ Dont say that babe… you’re the only person I’d ever lay my eyes on your my pretty boy…” you smile looking deep into his eyes, “Honestly sho don’t overthink it pains me knowing you think that way..” you kiss his soft lips .. licking your lips in hunger for more kisses.

He lets out another shaky and relieved sigh as you press your lips to his. His free hand rests on your waist and pulls you to sit on his lap. He breaks the kiss for a moment and buries his head into your neck, nuzzling it against your skin

“I’m really sorry for thinking such things…I love you so much…”.. “You should be knuckle head..” you state while playing with his semi wet hair. shivering as you touch his hair a bit wet from the rain. He gives a slight laugh at you calling him a knucklehead, knowing that he kinda deserves it and then nuzzles his head further into your neck as he speaks “I know, I’m sorry again…it’s just the people in my class keep talking about it…about how you and that boy are always talking and stuff…”.

“It’s just school work plus I didn’t want to tell you this but..” you slowly get closer to his ear and whisper “I show you off to him” you smile and you giggle in his ear. He listens to every word carefully and his cheeks turn a light pink. He takes a moment to process what you said, slightly confused at first “Huh? What do you mean you ‘show me off to him’?”, realizing what you had said but not was too late it had to be said “Oh nothing I just ramble about you a lot telling him how much of a good boyfriend you are sometimes I even get off topic on the project we do …” He can’t help but smile a bit, picturing you rambling about him to the boy as you work on projects together. He lifts his head up from your neck and looks up at you, “You really do that?” He questions “I do..”..” it’s kinda embarrassing now that I say it..” you cover your face He smiles gently at how embarrassed you are admitting it.

He gives you a satisfied smile seeing your beautiful face and moves one hand to cup your cheek. “You’re cuter than you give yourself credit for. You know that right?” You blush bright red “S-Sho!!”.. “Don’t say that” you bury yourself in his neck, He laughs at your actions and lets you bury yourself into his neck to hide your embarrassment. He brings his other hand up and runs his fingers through your hair as he smiles and speaks “Why not? I’m just saying the truth…”

You start kissing his neck softly bitting and licking into certain spots.. “Mhh.. I guess..” you breath heavily You immediately tell he’s enjoying the soft kisses on his neck, even letting out a small and shaky breath when you start biting into some special spots. He takes a moment to speak and when he does his voice is shaky and slightly strained… “Keep doing that and I’m…I’m not responsible for what happens next…”

You start kissing his neck softly bitting and licking into certain spots.. “Mhh.. if you say so..”

You continue on to leave him hickeys moving onto his lips.. He immediately melts into you as your lips move from his neck to his lips. He lets out a small hum of pleasure at the feeling as well as from the hickeys you leave. He closes his eyes and slides his tongue out a bit, gently licking over your lips as if asking for entrance into your mouth,You slowly let him inside your mouth moaning from his flavors mouth inside you… He lets out a noise of satisfaction as he slips his tongue into your mouth, immediately exploring every inch of it as he takes the lead of the kiss. The hand holding your waist suddenly grips onto you tighter as his tongue moves against yours, desperate to taste more of you.

You moan as you deeply kiss him passionately describe for his touch, He continues to dominate the kiss, holding you pressed against him as his other hand moves your hair back and out of your face so he can see you. He lets out another shaky breath as he devours your mouth, wanting this moment to last forever. He breaks the kiss for a moment, only to whisper the words, “I love you so much… ” in a soft and shaky voice before delving back in for another deep kiss…

(if you liked my work feel free to check out the rest on my page and follow <3!! Or click the #hotcheetos22 )

[luveline]

could you write something with kisses before dinner where avery feels like she’s not your your steve’s favourite and she gets upset?

for you my love! dad!steve x pregnant!mom!you. 3.7k

Steve gives Bethie's hand a tug. "Come on, this way." 

Bethie follows without complaint, her rain boots smacking the sidewalk with each step. Steve keeps checking to make sure the umbrella's covering her, though there's little need for his worrying when she's wearing her rain mac, a scarf, and a super thick sweater under her coat.  

It's a very short walk to the door for Avery's classroom. She and the other first graders get called out one by one from a huge door that exits a cubby room. Steve stands where he always does, out of the way from most but close enough that Avery doesn't have to look far. 

Steve hadn't always wanted kids. When he was sixteen, he thought that having children might be the worst thing in the world, not because he'd ever been around any kids that weren't worth loving, but because they acted like a sort of glue, sticking you to another person. But he got older, and he realised he wanted to be stuck, and then he realised there isn't any glue to children, they can't serve as an adhesive that binds you to someone. You either love your partner or you don't (of course, it's a little more complicated than that) and children are usually separate. 

Steve met you. He loved you more than he ever loved another person. And then you had Avery, and Bethie, and Dove, and he somehow loved you more for it. It's immeasurable. 

Steve loves you, and he loves his kids most of all. You wouldn't be offended, you feel the same —kids are a different kind of love. 

It's why being out in the rain doesn't matter. Bethie's hand is warm where he covers it in his, and when she gives a little shiver he crouches down to rub her shoulders, knowing it doesn't help but wishing it did.

He's so excited to see Avery he can't describe it right, and it doesn't make any sense because he saw her seven hours ago at drop off when she kissed him goodbye and ran away to go play races with her friends. Since then, he's taken Bethie to her doctor’s check up, chased Dove around the house for a bath, put on a load of washing, made dinner preparations, done the dishes, all while acting as a willing serf for a moderately pregnant you on bed rest after a bout of high blood pressure. All of those anxieties and chores and exhaustions —he wouldn't have it any other way— and still he's geared up to see his oldest. 

Avery usually runs out of the door like she's on springs, but today she's only walking. Steve groans as he stands up properly, beckoning for Avery to come and stand under the umbrella as he calls, "Hey, Avey-bear, where's your water bottle?" 

She only has her lunch box. 

"I think it's lost forever," she says, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

He can't hug her with his hands full, but he gives her the best 'dad loves you' look that he can muster, his most adoring smile. "You think so? Don't worry, we'll fix it."

"It's not broken," she says. 

"I just mean that we'll find it or I'll buy you another one." Avery holds her hand up. "Take your sisters, baby.”

"I wanna be under the umbrella," she whines. 

Steve doesn't blame her. The rain is coming down heavier by the minute, and she doesn't have a nice sweater on like Beth. The weather wasn't as unpleasant this morning. 

"You can hold it if you don't stab me in the eye," he says. 

"Yes! Please please please," she says, accepting the umbrella he passes with a charmingly pleased smile. 

They walk through the playground, the winding path to the parking lot and between cars. Steve picks Bethie up and carries her from the parking lot onward, worried she'll pull away. Avery tells him about her day without prompting, the umbrella jabbing him in the hips and stomach occasionally. 

"We're making cards tomorrow for them, do you think the old people like cards?" she asks as they approach the car. 

"I think they'll love your card."

Steve unlocks the doors and pulls Avery's open first. He takes the umbrella from her and she climbs into her car seat with a load of thunking and huffing. Steve didn't think it through, there's the umbrella to shake dry, car seat straps to click, and his arms are still full of Beth, who's been her usual quiet self the entire time. 

"You okay, Beth?" he asks her. 

"I'm cold," she murmurs. 

Steve can't have that. He pushes the umbrella into the footwell by Avery's feet and water flecks the poor girl's jeans, but at least he has a hand free to click together her car seat strap. She lifts her head for a kiss and he doesn't recognise it until the door's shutting between them. 

He winces and rushes to Bethie's side. "Sorry, babe," he says when he opens the door, putting Beth in her seat with ease. Avery pouts at him. "I'll give you a kiss when we get home, I'm sorry, my head's not screwed on tight enough right now. I'm just rushing to get back to mom." 

Avery blows hair out of her face, annoyed. 

The drive home is nice and slow. Steve's cargo is too important to rush and risk hydroplaning. Bethie's asleep by the time they get home as he hoped she would be, and Avery is itching for the bathroom. He lets her out first and she sprints away before he can get a kiss. 

Steve scoops Bethie up and whacks his head on the car roof. He does it every single time he tries to get her out, and he stands there with the rain pounding his back, sucking air in through his teeth. "Sugar," he whispers.

He pulls Bethie securely to his chest, locks the car and climbs the short step into the house, head pounding. He's unsurprised and horrified to see you up in the kitchen making Avery a cup of juice, Dove propped on your baby bump like a perfectly sized seat. 

"Not okay," he says, hands covering Bethie's ears as he closes the front door behind him. "Go sit down now. I'm not kidding. Right now." 

"Steve–" 

"Y/N," he says, real annoyance in his voice. He doesn't like bossing you around, doesn't like being a jerk, but you can't mess with bed rest, not so far along. It's not even the baby he's thinking about, it's you. "Go lay down, please." 

You smile guiltily. "I'm feeling better." 

Avery looks like she's the one who's had the telling off when you leave. She sips from her juice cup and won't meet his eyes, her sleeves dark with water. She has a bad habit of not rolling them up when she washes her hands, and Steve always sighs when he sees it. 

Your home is oddly shaped. When you first walk in, you can see up the stairs to the right, and you can see straight down the hall to the kitchen, and you can also see into the living room to the left. The living room leads into the kitchen, too, which means there's double the baby gates. 

Steve puts Bethie down on the big bean bag by the windows and finds you laying down on the L-shaped couch, Dove content where she sits by your hip. Your hands play with the thin blonde wisps of hair at her neck. The longer it grows the darker it becomes. 

"Sorry for worrying you," you say, not looking at him. "I really do feel better." 

"I'm glad you do, but you know it's not one of those things that works on feelings," Steve says. He rubs his forehead, and then he drops his hand against his thigh in defeat. "Sorry for being snappy. You freaked me out." 

"I have to get up sometimes. To pee and stuff," you say. "Will you get Ave her juice? She wants Mapap." 

"What? For what?" he asks. 

Dove turns in her seat to look at Steve like she's surprised he's here. Then, in a startling turn of events, she babbles happily. "Daddy," she says, holding up her hands. "Home." 

"I'm home," he agrees sweetly. 

"Daddy," she says again. 

Dove loves Steve, but she's always had a preference for her mom. When you're working, Dove is more than happy to spend her days in Steve's arms, in his lap, some days she's stuck to him like a leech, but you walk through the door and she's immediately team Mom. It makes sense, she must miss you while you're away. For the first time in a while, Dove's had to miss Steve instead. 

He picks her up with a huge beaming smile and kisses her cheek, still chubby with baby fat. "You're happy to see me?" he asks against her skin. 

"I think she has a tummy ache." 

"Dove?" Steve asks, folding a curl behind Dove's ear. 

"Avery." You grimace. "Are you sure I can't stand up? I feel fine." 

"Don't get up." Steve gives Dove another kiss and says to her, "I love you, I'll be right back. Please still love me." 

Dove curls into your chest when Steve puts her down in a way that says she certainly won't still love him when he returns, but she enjoyed the hug. 

Steve almost trips in the doorway to the kitchen over a teddy bear. Avery eyes him reproachfully, her glass of juice a quarter filled. 

"Mommy says you have a tummy ache. Let's get you some medicine, yeah?" Steve asks.

"It's okay." 

"It stopped hurting?" 

"No," Avery says, frowning. She looks to be on the sudden verge of tears as kids tend to be.

Steve attempts to rescue her. "Okay, baby. Come here," he says, holding out his arms. Avery puts her glass on the counter and walks into his arms, a sad sound squeezed from her as he carries her to the kitchen table. He sits her on a table mat, ducking to be the same height as her eyes, his hands finding a gentle home on her small shoulders. "What's the situation, honey? What kind of pain is it?" 

"It feels weird," she says quietly. 

"Throw up weird?" he asks, the most important port of call. 

"No."

"You sure?" he asks.

Avery shakes her head. Steve doesn't think she'll throw up, but she looks so unhappy that he frowns at her, rubbing the nape of her neck. "What's the pain feel like?"

"Just hurts."

"Okay. I'll get you some Mapap, honey. What would make you feel better? A cuddle?" He leans forward to whisper, "Are you feeling gassy? Maybe you need a burp." 

"No, dad," she says. She must be feeling awful, she doesn't laugh. Burps are always funny.

Steve grabs the Mapap from the fringe and tips it onto a spoon. "Here," he murmurs, passing her the last of her juice so she's ready to chase the odd taste of her medicine away. 

Avery hesitates to open her mouth. 

She has the same eyes as Steve, and right now they're filled with a look hasn't seen in his own for years. He's not sure what to make of it. She doesn't look sick, she looks sad, really sad, driving Steve to a new kind of panic. 

"I'll take some with you," he says. 

"Really?" she asks. 

It's kids Mapap —he could drink the bottle and still have a backache afterward. "Yeah, really really. You want me to go first or second?" 

She deliberates. "First." 

Steve lifts the spoon of medicine to his nose. He knows he should pretend it's delicious, no big deal, but he sniffs it suspiciously, touching the tip of his tongue to it and wincing dramatically at the taste. 

"I get a hug after this, right?" he asks. 

Avery laughs. "Yeah, dad." 

He raises his brows, as if to say, Well, in that case, and takes the medicine. It's a fake strawberry flavour and disgusting but he pretends it's only sort of bad. 

Avery offers him her cup of juice as soon as he takes the spoon out. She's lovely. 

Steve makes another cup of juice and another spoon of medicine. Avery takes it without any hesitation, going as far as to say, "It's not that bad." 

Steve's thankful for the reprieve. He really hadn't been liking the way Avery looked like she was feeling. He scoops her up as though she weighs nothing (she grows like a bamboo shoot every summer, but Steve is strong) and carries her to the living room, where you're half asleep now and Dove's definitely not, her short fingers petting your neck. 

"She's sleeping," Dove tells Steve factually as he sits. 

Avery leans against Steve's chest. 

"I'm not sleeping," you mumble, "just my Dove is being so nice to me." 

"Well, not to make anyone jealous or anything, but Avery promised me a prime time kiss. Like, a huge one." 

"No I didn't," Avery says, confused.

"Yes you did, don't be a meanie. I meant to give you one in the car, 'member?" 

"Oh," Avery says, "right." 

Steve gets his kisses and a great big cuddle, hugging his eldest baby as close as he can. The TV plays one of Dove's favourite movies and you fall asleep, snoring and drooling at once, dribbling from the corner of your mouth. It seeps into the cushion you've underneath you. Dove laughs and points it out to Steve and Avery. Avery's a sweetheart, so she wipes your drool away and pushes a fingertip into your lips until you close your mouth. 

Dove climbs off of you and wanders over to Bethie. "Leave her alone, Dove," Steve warns. 

Dove gives him a, Who, me? look and climbs onto the bean bag, to Steve's annoyance. Luckily, Dove's feeling nice, and she doesn't wake her sister. She lays down beside her and loosely holds her hand, and after half an hour, everyone's asleep besides Steve and Avery. 

He can't help looking at you constantly, worried you're gonna get sick and he won't notice. He's worrying the same thing about Ave.

He's too obvious. 

"Is mom okay?" Avery asks. 

"Mom's okay. Are you worrying?" he asks. 

"You're worrying," Avery says. 

"I know mom's gonna be okay, I can promise you she's fine," he says. "But it's like you. You're not feeling very well and it makes me worry, but I know you'll be okay." 

Avery doesn't say anything, rubbing her nose against his collar. 

"Do you believe me?" he asks. 

"About what?"

"About everything, I guess." 

"Yeah," she says. Steve gives her shoulder a little pat.

"Okay, good. Mom is fine, and baby's fine, and we'll all be okay as long as she rests up. And your tummy stops hurting, duh." 

Avery isn't cheered up by his doting, sweet tones. She stays flat as a pancake on his chest and doesn't move an inch for a while. Steve waits. He knows Avery like the back of his hand. She has something she wants to say, or tell him, or ask. 

"Dad?" she whispers. 

"Yeah?" 

"Is it okay to be nobody's favourite?" 

"What?" 

Avery hides her face. 

Steve encourages her back out again, gently carding through her hair. "What do you mean?" he asks.

Her bottom lip trembles. "Dove is mommy's favourite, and your favourite is Beth, so who's favourite am I?" she asks. 

"You're my favourite," he says on automatic.

"But you can only have one," she says, glaring at him. 

"That's not how this works, you're my girls. You're my daughters. You're all my favourites." 

"You love Bethie most." 

Steve wants to say, Of course I don't, how could you think that? He wants to say, Avery, don't be silly. He wants to say, That's not true, because it genuinely isn't.

"I'm so sorry," he says instead. 

Avery sniffs. "Why?" 

"Ave, I'm so sorry. That's not what you're supposed to think, I– honey, why do you think I love Bethie most?" he asks. "It's not true, I adore your sister, but I love you the same. I love you so much it made my heart actually get bigger," Steve says, rushing to explain it, wanting there to be no doubt. "When you were born, it was the best day of my life. The best day of my life." 

"You and Beth are always snuggling," Avery says. Steve has to strain to hear her.

"Your sister loves hugs, and I love giving them to her," he agrees. "Do you wish we hugged more often?" 

She nods. He nods back. 

"Then we will. I promise." 

"I want to be your favourite," she says. 

"Avery," he sighs. "You are. It's hard to explain it, but I love you and Bethie and Dove and even the baby all the same." 

Avery starts crying. Steve had known it was going to happen, and it still feels like a whack to the chest, flat-palmed. 

"Is this why your tummy hurts?" he asks quietly. 

"I want to be your favourite," she says again, cheeks shining with tears. "I want to be mom's favourite, it's not fair."

"You're my favourite singer," he says. 

Avery frowns.

"You're my favourite singer. You're my favourite at putting her socks on. You're my favourite pancake maker, my favourite–" 

"It's not the same," Avery says.

Steve takes her hands in his. "Yes it is! You're my favourite girl just like your sisters, but if that's not good enough, you're my favourite at so much other stuff, Ave. You have my favourite smile, and do my favourite dances. I'm really sorry you think you're no one's favourite," he says, aching. "I promise you, me and your mom love you so much it's weird." 

"You promise?" she checks. 

"I promise. Cross my heart." 

Avery sniffles. Steve wipes her warm cheeks with the side of his hand, tucking her hair behind her ears. She's his mirror. If there's one thing Steve wanted, it was that she would never feel how he felt growing up. 

"I can make it up to you, sweetheart, you tell me what it is that makes you upset and I can fix it. Will you tell me, please?" 

Avery tells him in little fits and starts. It's nothing done maliciously, ever, but he can heartbreakingly see why Avery might have stacked all of these things together and started wondering what's wrong. Bethie gets super tired in the early evenings, and when she's tired she clings, hoarding Steve's affection for herself; Dove's young enough to be a handful, hoarding yours. There's the missed kiss in the car after school, and a hug that didn't include her at breakfast. A few days ago, you said to Dove, "Mom needs a kiss from her favourite girl." You had no idea Avery was awake, and you didn't mean it with even a drop of cruelty, but it doesn't matter. Avery took it to heart, and she's been upsetting herself with it ever since. 

"Do you want to talk to mom?" he asks her, stroking her cheek with his knuckle. 

"I don't know…" 

"I can talk to her for you, if you want to. Or we can talk to her together. She'll be really sorry, honey, I promise. You know mommy doesn't have a mean bone in her body." 

You wake up not too long after that, dragging yourself into a sluggish sleeping position, hand on your bump. "Woah, she's kicking me." 

You look up to them with a huge smile, evidently excited to show them, hand already in the hem of your shirt and pulling up, but you notice their matching frowns and say, "What's wrong?" 

Steve explains. Avery looks at your bump rather than your face as he does, barely reacting to his hand stroking her hair back. 

"Oh," you say, pouting gently, eyebrows pinching together, "Avery, I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean she's my only favourite, that's not–" You hold your hand out for her. "Sorry, baby. I've really upset you, haven't I?"

Avery squeezes her eyes closed and nods. 

"I bet that was really sad, thinking you weren't our favourite girl," you murmur, voice imbued with apology, sympathy, and an overflowing measure of love. 

"It's okay," Avery says.

"It wasn't just your fault," Steve says to you. "It was me too." 

"Can I come and lie on you?" Avery asks.

Your eyes light with relief. "Yes, yeah. Don't kick my tummy, okay?" You pull Avery onto your front. She's cautious not to dig a knee into your bump but otherwise collapses boneless into your arms. 

Parents make literally hundreds and thousands of mistakes just like kids do. Steve knows he hadn't meant to hurt Avery, but he did, and he feels overwhelmingly depressed about it. Being a dad is the only thing he's ever been good at. This is his biggest screw up to date.

You have your eyes closed, your face against Avery's pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. Blindly, you squeeze Steve's arm.

"I love you so much, Avery," you say. "Thanks for telling us how you're feeling. You're always brave."

"I'm not," Avery says. All the love and affection is finally getting to her. She sounds bashfully pleased rather than sad now, hugging your neck extra tight. 

"You are!" You pull Steve toward you. "Dad knows. Isn't she just the best in the world?" 

Steve covers her back with his arm. The youngest both snore unawares on the big bean bag, the TV flickering with the static at the end of the movie. He should've started dinner an hour ago, but he doesn't feel hungry.

"You're the nicest, strongest, kindest girl I've ever met," Steve says. He's laying it on thick, and every word is true. 

"What about me?" you joke. 

"You're fine."

"Dad!" Avery laughs, turning her head to smile at him reproachfully. "You can't say that, tell the truth!" 

"You're joint first best," he corrects. He covers his mouth with his hand, whispering to Avery, "But you're the very very best, Ave." 

Her eyes go soft, straight lashes kissing in the outer corners as she smiles. "Thanks, dad."

[brnesblogposts]

I just wanted to say I LOVE YOUR FLUFF STORIES. ITS SO FLUFFY IM GONNA DIE! 🥰🤣💙 and... I was wondering if you could you do a story were reader (girl) is on a walk in the rain with an umbrella, and spots a guy (Bucky) sitting on a bench in the soft rain with no umbrella. She sits near him and ever so sneakily shares her umbrella? Bucky could appreciate the strangers kindness despite not knowing him. The story can be as long or short as you like! 💙 Have a great day/afternoon/night! ♡ Thank you! 

thank you so much! means the world, and this is my first request so i’m really excited 🙈!

i hope you like what i came up with :)

It was the worst kind of rain, it was a fine but heavy rain that soaked everything rather quickly. Luckily you had your umbrella on you and quickly popped it open before you got too wet, despite the rain the walk through the park was beautiful, just what you needed to clear your mind.

A couple minutes later you noticed a man sitting on a bench, his clothes looked wet and his hair was starting to get soaked by the fine droplets, he didn’t look like he was going to move nor did it look like he had an umbrella. In fact it looked like he was lost in head a thousand yard stare on his face.

Approaching slowly you acted as if you were just taking a break and sitting down, he tensed up a bit as you did so but you tried to keep as much distance as possible as not to make him uncomfortable. Slowly but surely you managed to inch your umbrella further and further until it was covering the both of you, the rain was getting heavier now and he should not be sitting in it because he could get sick, but you weren’t one to judge, the man could be going through something.

Bucky noticed you straight away, he was weary as he is with most people. He was surprised when you sat on the bench, the same bench he sat on. People usually kept their distance from him, they were scared of him, of who they thought he was.

He started to relax again once he knew you weren’t a threat and he continued to stare into the distance, before long he noticed it had stopped raining, he looked up- an umbrella?

You were just sat there holding the umbrella for as long as he needed it, then he glanced at you and your heart jumped. His eyebrows were furrowed as if he were trying to figure out why you were sharing your umbrella.

“Sorry, didn’t want you to get sick” Your smile melted his heart and he continued to stare at you bewildered for a few seconds.

“I can’t get sick” He stated before seeing your confused face “The super soldier serum- it prevents me from getting sick” He explains but still your face doesn’t change actually you look more confused.

“You don’t know who I am?” He asks curiously because it’s so refreshing not to recognised and automatically feared.

“You’re a man on the bench sitting in the rain getting wet.” You smile gently “Should I know who you are?” He shakes his head and takes a few seconds to think something over.

“Bucky” He nods his head at you in a sort of greeting and you do the same introducing yourself.

“Do you share your umbrella with soaking strangers often?” There’s the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face, you feel proud you broke through his tough exterior.

“Only the really handsome ones” To your surprise he blushes and you can’t help but smile at how shy he gets, he looks so tough but he’s not, really.

“Now you know I can’t get sick, keep the umbrella for yourself” He smiles softly.

“Do you have the ability to feel cold?” You inquire.

“Yes”

“Then the umbrella is staying” He finds you amusing, how you’re not intimidated by him.

He notices you’re shivering though.

“You wanna- um- wanna get a cup of coffee? Hot chocolate? Something to warm you- Us up?” He’s blushing again clearly nervous.

“Sounds like a plan, do I also get to know the handsome man whom I shared my umbrella with?” You stand as he does and he takes the umbrella holding it over both of you as he’s taller.

“Sure” He smiles and you both walk to a near by cafe. Bucky can’t wait to tell Sam about his afternoon, Sam will never believe him.

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my bucky tag list!

[chimielie]

ghost in the machine

summary: Matsukawa x F!Reader. sometimes two people love each other very much. sometimes they do terrible things to each other.

word count: 1k

cw: cheating, extremely toxic relationship, no one here is likable, breakup, no happy ending

a/n: my bad i was going through something. sorry to the seijoh community. enjoy?

Issei meets you at the train station. It's dry now, but it was raining earlier—his hair is sticking to his face, curling even more than usual in the humidity. He doesn't "believe" in using umbrellas, whatever that means, or in standing beneath the rain shelter, apparently.

"Hey," you say, affecting nonchalance. The look on his face is familiar to you, signalling further storms ahead. You put your hands in his and press your mouth into a little frown. "What's wrong?

"Don't act cute," he says, glancing away, but he doesn't take his hands out of your hold. "This is—hard enough."

Issei does this thing, when he's mad at you, taking longer and longer pauses as he speaks. Leaves you hanging and still chooses all the wrong words.

"Issei, what happened?" You say. You look around, but there's no one else at the station: it's a dismal day, and his workplace is out of the way of pretty much all other human life. Fitting.

He rubs a thumb over yours, slow, pensive.

"I'm just gonna rip the band-aid off," he says, and you almost snort. There's been nothing quick about this process. "I think we should stop seeing each other."

"Another break?" You ask, trying to keep your voice light. "So you can fuck your new building receptionist?"

That's not light. Oops.

"How do you—whatever. No. That's not it. Don't be like that."

"It's what it was last time," you say, frustrated. "And Makki mentioned that he thought she was hot, which means you think she is."

"I don't, and that's not even the point," he sighs. "See, this is what I mean."

"You do," you insist. "But what is your point?"

"My point," he grits, thumb rubbing harder, strong fingers digging into your flesh so hard it almost hurts. "Is that we need to end this. Not a break. We need to break up."

"No," you say, blinking away tears. "I thought we were working on things. I thought we were better."

He pauses again. You let yourself fill up with big, stupid hope, leaning a little closer to him. All you want is one of his hugs, warm and solid and loving. Love me, you want to sob, you don't love me?

You don't, because you would be proving his point. You don't want to guilt him. You don't want to hurt him. You feel nauseous. The whole world is wrong, everything is going wrong.

He doesn’t give you what you need.

"I feel sick," he echoes your thoughts. "All the time. What we're doing to each other—I care about you, I want you to be happy. We—I don't make you happy."

"You do," you plead. "No one else makes me happy like you."

"But that's, like, five percent of the time," he says, jerking you a little closer. You know it's subconscious and it makes you emit a little noise, soft, one you don't want him to hear. "The rest of the time we, we fight, and we get petty, and we act like kids. It's not what it should be."

"I don't care what it should be," you flash. "I don't want whatever it should be. I want this. I think it's worth it. I want to fight for it."

"Well, I don't!" His eyes are burning. You think there's something shimmering in his waterline. "I'm tired. It's—you jerk me around like bait, on a string. I am tired of taking breaks, and getting back at each other, and—"

"I jerk you around?" You say. "Issei, you suggested the first break, you slept with—"

"I know what I did," his voice sounds defeated even as you can hear the underlying anger—deeper, the underlying hurt. "That's what I'm saying, we're damaged, I really don't care whose fault it is."

"Except you clearly think it's mine," you argue. It’s fucked up, that this is what fighting for your love means; how twisted has your knight-and-princess story become?

“Shut up! Just stop—just stop talking for a second.” You press your fingers tentatively to the right corner of his temple and rub small circles into the skin, knowing that’s where he gets headaches from grinding his jaw when you’re driving him crazy. He lets you for a moment, then shakes his head, bats you away. “You shouldn’t let me talk to you like that.”

“I won’t,” you say. “You won’t talk to me like that anymore.”

“That’s so fucked up,” he chokes out a laugh. His dark eyes crease so prettily when he does. “Don’t do that. With the next guy—”

“There’s no next guy!” You yelp, fingers flexing, not sure what to hold on to. If he’s letting go of his jealousy—the world tilts dizzily. He used to tell you, face in a lazy cat smile, body warm and heavy atop yours, that you’d find your next boyfriends on his mortuary table. “What, Issei, there’s not gonna be anyone else ever.”

His lips twist into a sardonic smile. He lets go of you, his hands shaking like he’s just been shocked, cartoon-style, electricity working its way through his body. You reach for him and he shoves his hands in his pockets, lets you stumble over your feet.

“I know you slept with Makki,” Issei says grimly. You stop in your tracks.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he agreed. “Yeah.”

There’s not a lot to say to that. It doesn’t matter that it was during the worst breakup, a year ago, that it was because you’d seen him kissing one of your friends at a party. It doesn’t matter that it had been a mistake.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and the tears are rolling down your face again. Or it’s started raining. Both. “I’m so sorry. I know.”

There’s an awful screech when the train arrives—his train, going deeper into the country. Yours, back to the city, is due in eight minutes. You can’t stop anything from leaving this station.

“It’s okay. It’s like you said,” he puts his hands on his shoulders, presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips wet with cold rainwater. When did it start pouring? “He thought she was hot, so so did I. I love you, so so did he.”

[lemonmelonboy]

Lonely for the First Time Ever

Jack x Reader

TW: Ian /j, Cheating, Loneliness

Content: GN!Reader

Word Count: 3317

Summary: My own fun take on Day 1 (?) of Somethings Wrong with Sunny Day Jack.

18+ Readers ONLY - Minors Do NOT Interact! Minors/Ageless Blogs will be Blocked!!!

I Do NOT give any permission for my work to be Reposted, Translated, or used with AI in ANY Capacity!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had just dragged yourself out of your apartment after being called in to cover your flakey co-worker for possibly the millionth time that year. You surely missed your days off at this point, wishing to have just one every week rather than every other week. You sighed heavily walking down the sidewalk, as Jack trailed alongside you. It was cold and stormy, the rain was pelting the sidewalk and cars were passing by in a slum. It was such a peaceful walk.

You walked silently with Jack politely carrying your umbrella; you had protested but he very much insisted he take it for you. The rain soothed your racing mind, but that only made it so you thought slower about the things on your mind. You ran over what had just happened before you were rudely interrupted by your boss’s phone call. How Jack had held you so close, how you imagined kissing him for a brief moment, and how you wish you had. You mulled it over and over, unable to shake the image of the cuddly Jack. How Jack had looked at you with those love sick eyes. How bad you wanted to stay. Thoughts raced about why, which brought up feelings from the past few months. But as you slipped into your thoughts Jack gently bumped your arm, a playful event that he’d tend to do on your walks. It made you smile, he always knew how to make you smile, especially with little things like that. You look around trying to keep yourself in the present, but the pittering of the rain on the umbrella and sidewalk luls you back into thoughts of Jack and your loneliness.

“Sunshine?” Jack's voice cooed kindly. You looked up to him, suddenly pulled back.

“Hm?” you looked around as you realized you almost walked straight by your work. A soft embarrassed blush works its way across your cheeks.

You slip into the door, walking to the back to set your things down, ignoring Barry’s comments on how thankful he is you could come in and how absolutely sorry he is for having to do it. When you come back from the back of the store you find he had already left. You sigh as you find yourself alone in the shop, going through your list of menial tasks for the day. You work quietly as Jack hangs around, quietly helping when he can. It's weird to have him be so comfortable with how quiet you’re being. Usually he does anything to try to fill the silence, like whistling a small tune. However the man who stood before you now would only give you an encouraging smile whenever you looked at him and never said a word, not until you spoke up.

“Jack..” You sighed his name as you relaxed against the counter having finished all the tasks you needed to. You didn’t even have anything to tell, least not in a way you knew how. He perked up like a puppy being offered a treat.

“Yes, sunshine?” he asks sweetly. You looked at him and could feel your body warm as you saw his happy face and his kind eyes looking at you almost needingly. You mull over a single thought in your head and he can see you are resisting saying what you were thinking. “Is everything alright?” his happy look slowly fades to concern. Then he looks away with a soft blush on his cheeks. “It's okay to want that.. to want to be wanted..” he said breathily and quietly, almost like he was embarrassed by his own words.

“Wh-what are you saying?'' How did he know? You were sure you were only thinking to yourself, and you weren’t a vocal thinker.

“I just… sometimes people are like that for you, and it's okay to have a person you want to be with all the time… to want them to want you… and wanting them..?” He ended it like a question, almost like he wanted you to just admit it all to him right then and there.

“Wha- I- '' You didn’t know what you should say to him. You were so embarrassed at the implication that he was who you wanted- or the implication you wanted someone else.

“Do you… want me?” he asked, quieter than ever. He was still pretty blunt with it- looking at you with a pair of hopeful puppy eyes that made your body scream for you to just say “yes” and let him hold you. “I know it's hard to say- but I can help you learn what words to use to express these feelings.” He gently urges, moving closer to you reaching out almost as if he was ready to hug you, and hold you and possibly never let go.

“But- I- it's just that’s- you can’t just ask something like that- I-“ He moves closer, his hands resting on the counter behind you, he makes a point of not touching you yet, but wanting to get closer to you. A warmth spreads over your face into a sweet blush as you figure out how to answer. You felt in that moment that you wanted him to hold you, to grab you the best he could.

“I want to be there for you- whether you want me like that or not.. I’ll be there for you however you need me- I just want what’s best for you- What will make you happy-'' suddenly your phone starts ringing, interrupting Jack and causing him to step away. A soft frustrated look comes over his face as he looks away. You take up the cell phone, glad to have been interrupted right then, afraid if he continued your heart would have given out.

“Oh- Uh- I'll be- back!”

Jack nods slightly, “It might be important- so- don’t worry alright? I’ll still be here when you get back!” He said encouragingly as he let you walk past him.

You really shouldn’t be taking calls at work, but you didn’t care. You also didn't care if the call was spam and you picked it up without checking the name plastered on the screen. You quickly ducked to the kitchen camera blind spot.

“Hello?” You spoke with that pitch in your voice encouraging the person calling to speak. You were hopeful it was something that would take your mind off everything.

“You picked up-“ an all too familiar voice came through, in awe, and dripping with desperation. You froze, the last person you ever wanted to hear, especially with how your day was going. Ian. “Hey..” He spoke again, trying to fill in your quiet response. You hadn’t forgotten about him, but you hadn’t expected he’d call you while you were at work. “Are you alright?” he asked with concern in his voice.

“Ye-yeah, I’m fine..” You could hear him sigh softly in relief as you responded.

“I-I’ve missed you… and your voice..” he almost whimpered into the phone.

“What- what do you need Ian. I’m- at work, you can’t be calling me like this” You asked quietly, surprise still filling your tone more than any anger or demandingness.

“I-I know,, I didn't expect you to pick up! I-I’m sorry…” Ian said, he sounded so sad, and you do feel a little bad. He was your life long friend, and what felt like even longer lover. But he hurt you, and objectively you know you shouldn’t feel sorry for him, or how you treat him.

“You’ve said.. And I don’t forgive you Ian.. You know I am still mad at you.” There’s silence from him. You bite your quivering lip, pushing back a sob, thinking he must be feeling the same. “I-” You huff out, collecting yourself before you continue. “I’m trying to move on.” You say, a little sad hearing yourself say it.

“You’re- You’re what...” you can hear his heart break more in his voice, and you might’ve felt it just a bit yourself. “You’re not,, with someone right? Because… I am trying. I am going to fix this… And-” You cut him off

“Ian... Its not your problem whether I am with someone or not… We aren’t… We are not us anymore. So- what I do isn’t any concern for you...” You speak in a soft frustrated tone, you try to give him patience especially since you’ve trapped yourself into this conversation.

“But... can't it? Be, my problem? I-I need to make this up to you… You’re… All I’ve had since we were little- and… We’ve been through so much I- and I know this is my fault- and I need to fix this. Please. Let me fix this… Fix us…” he begged, and somewhere in you, you could feel the need to let him, to just give him the time to “fix” what he did, just so you could have him back. So you could feel less lonely. But no, you wouldn’t be able to handle it if he cheated on you again.

Breaking up with Ian was just as big of a loss for you as it was for him. You both lost someone you never thought you would. And God you had loved him. And who knows, maybe you still did, just a little. He took your silence as an urge for him to continue making his case. “I know I can make it up to you... I promise... I miss you so much- I-I want you so badly. And- I’ll be there soon to show you that what I’m saying is true '' he ends his statement with a happy hum, almost proud. You couldn’t take it anymore, you could hear customers in the front of the clowny yogurt shop come in, chatting modestly among themselves

“Goodbye... Ian.” you say, colder than you would’ve thought you could. You hung up before he could beg you to stay and talk to him more. You take a few slow calming breaths and turn to leave, noticing Jack standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Jack…” you mutter to yourself, afraid he might’ve overheard the call. He looks to you with a concerned kindness, one that he tends to give you whenever you notice Ian called you and left another message. You look away from Jack and walk quickly past him into the store, slapping on your customer service face and attitude.

Greeting the group of boys mulling in the front of the store. They seem preoccupied going through the yogurt flavors, which unfortunately gives you the time to think through things again. Your mind drifts, thinking of memories of Ian, clearer now than they had been that morning. One memory in particular, it was how he had looked when you kicked him out after finding out he had cheated on you. After running that memory in your mind a few times the memory of meeting Jack slowly started playing too. It hadn’t been long after Ian had left either, and you still weren’t completely sure where he came from. If he was a hallucination, could it have been your loneliness that made you imagine this pretty clown man to befriend you? Maybe that was why he was so attached to you? But, Jack certainly felt real, everytime he touched you, it felt real and so very safe. Maybe you did want him? Your thoughts were broken by a shy dark haired boy who stood in front of you. He couldn’t have been much younger than you, and he sported a gray and black shirt with a large black coat.

“We’re ready- to uh- pay- whenever you are?” he seemed nervous, a light blush spreading over his cheeks as he looked away from you, shifting nervously on his feet. One of the guys in the group set down the last of the three yogurt cups onto the scale, and you finish up their transaction. As two of the three guys start to leave the guy in the dark clothing lingers, glancing slyly at you, trying not to stare but also seeming to also want to admire you. “So- uh- you- work here often?” His blush deepens and he looks away again, clearly embarrassed. You can't help but be confused, annoyed and a little humored by his awkwardness.

“Yeah- unfortunately” you reply, attempting to give a light hearted air to your words.

“C-cool- Cool.” he pushes out, almost relieved you didn't call him an idiot. He seems at a loss for words now too, wanting to continue the conversation but feeling too awkward. He makes small noises before he takes his frozen yogurt and walks out. Once he’s gone you give a sigh and a light smile lingers on your face as you think about how silly that interaction was.

The rain continues to pound outside and your day drones on uneventfully and lacking any customers. Soon enough it was time to close and you did so quickly and happily. By the time you were finished with your last sweep you almost skipped out of the store. Jack smiled softly to you as you locked the door, him holding your umbrella once again. Once you were ready you turned around and the pair of you quietly walked home. He nudges you again about half way through the walk, his familiar gentle motion to let you know he was still around.

Once home you quickly kick off your shoes and flop onto your couch with a heavy sigh. You relax with your eyes closed and a gentle sigh. God you needed this seat.

“Hey.. sunshine?” Jack's soft cooing voice sang as you felt his weight and warmth settle in next to you. “Can I ask- who’s Ian..?” he asked softly. You rolled your head up to look at Jack.

“He’s..” Your gaze falls away from the kind caring clown. “An ex..” You gently hug yourself as you feel yourself become warm from all your emotions washing through you. You wanted to talk about him with Jack. You wanted to get it out. You haven’t really told anyone about what happened. Jack wraps a comforting arm around you after seeing you close in on yourself. His other hand rests on your arms, encouraging you to open up. You swallow your emotion like its pill stuck in your throat, then you continue. “He was all I had since we were kids.. Best friends forever- least we were supposed to be..” You felt your lips gently quiver before shaking your head to try to push it away. “and,, as we had gotten older we became something.. More. I don't think we ever officially labeled it- but we both had the mutual understanding that- we were who the other wanted for,, forever..” You huff softly as you feel the sadness hit you harder than before and Jack pulls you into him. He hugs you just to let you know he’s listening and understanding, to let you know you’re safe.

“So why does it seem like you’re so upset with him.. if you,,” he lingers before continuing “if you.. love him” that question hung in the air for a while. After you don’t respond for a while Jack gently leads your head to look up to him. “I’m sorry if that was too much, sunspot. If you can’t-” You shake your head softly, almost nuzzling into his hand.

“No- no it’s okay Jack,,” you mumble while looking up to him with sad eyes. “Ian.. cheated on me..” You mutter before turning away, almost ashamed to admit it. He pulls you back, running his thumb over your cheek to soothe you.

“I’m so sorry…” he whispers sweetly to you. He was making you feel so cared for and safe and you craved every touch he gave.

“And…” you felt your eyes slowly start to water. “He was all I had for so long... that when I made him leave I… became so very lonely.” You almost whimper to Jack, trying your best not to cry as you spoke. “I miss him so much Jack...” you whisper as you hide your watery eyes against his hand. “Then you came and you were so safe and I'm afraid I don’t feel genuine enough- like I should for you… or if I just feel these things for you because I can’t for Ian.” Tears pour from your eyes as you bite your lip, your voice and body shaking as you fight back sobs. Jack kindly rubs your back and swipes away the tears running down your cheeks.

“And because of that- I'm- afraid I make myself more lonely by pushing you away because I- don't wanna hurt you…but I still probably do hurt you..” You shake your head looking away and leaning against Jack's chest. He softly shushes you and hugs you tightly as you gently sob into him. “And you're so open, and honest, and kind and I don’t know if I’m completely able to feel all of this emotion as much as I want to- just… feel you hold me like this” you whimper as you cling against Jack, gripping his shirt tightly in your hands.

“It’s okay... I’ll be here for you however you need me… always” he promises you, resting his cheek against the top of your head and gently nuzzling. “You don’t have to tell me what you don’t feel you can,, you don’t have to do anything- feel anything you don’t want to feel.” He gives you a firm squeeze as you slowly calm down “You’re perfect…you didn’t deserve what they did to you- but it's okay to feel bad… or even miss them...” His words are like honey, slowly creeping into all your painful thoughts and soothing them, lessening their raw, burning pain. Being heard, letting it out, had helped tremendously. Especially with how Jack was holding you, close and warm.

“I’m sorry...” You murmur, feeling Jack’s hand on your back slowing. “I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you,, or disappointed you or burdened you or- '' Jack sits up and grabs your face gently. Holding you on either side with his hands, making you look him in the eye.

“None of that sunspot.” He said firmly, his eyes full of nothing but determined care. “You. Are. Perfect.” he says again “You are so amazing- Please never say any of that again” he demanded, his thumb running over your cheek. You look at him with adoration and understanding. You were so close. You nod softly and nuzzle into his hands, soaking up his sweet comforting warmth.

���Jack...” you whisper before looking up to him again with your eyes lingering on his lips. Before you know it, your body draws itself into Jack’s more and your lips find their way to pressing up against his. You feel him push back against your kiss, his hands holding you firm against him. You reach up and gently take one of his hands to lace your fingers together. You felt so overwhelmed with love at that moment. You didn’t want to pull away, but you felt Jack’s lips slowly retreat. You open your eyes and spot Jack’s deep red cheeks and fond eyes looking at you.

“I'm so glad you’re feeling better sunshine.” He says sweetly, and you instinctively nuzzle into the hand against your cheek, turning your head and gently giving it a kiss. That only seems to fluster Jack more. He pulls you against him again, similar to how the pair of you were seated earlier that morning, but this time you didn’t hesitate to kiss Jack as soon as you were situated. The pair of you layed there, trading soft and passionate pecks. Jack occasionally whispers loving praises to you, and soon, you fall asleep in exhaustion against his chest.

[phoebe-delia]

the best people in life are free

Okay so I'm breaking my own rule and doing a Taylor Swift songfic for the Phoebe Tries to Write Again Challenge. To be fair, I did write most of this a while back. I'm just finally dusting it off. This is inspired by "New Romantics" by Taylor Swift, which is also a @drarrymicrofic prompt.

"I bet I'm faster than you."

That's all Draco says before he flashes Harry a wild grin and then sprints down the sidewalk like a madman, his arms spread wide as if he's trying to hug the rain coming down around them. Harry groans to himself and starts after him, almost losing his balance on the slick path.

Draco's clearly paying no mind to the irritated pedestrians who barely move out of his way in time, nor does he seem to be worried about the hazardously wet streets. The Malfoy that Harry knew growing up wouldn't willingly be outside in this weather without an umbrella charm, let alone dashing gleefully through dirty puddles through the crowds in a major city.

But then again, Draco hasn't been Malfoy in a long time.

Harry is relieved when Draco finally slows to a stop, sticking out his tongue to catch the raindrops. That lets Harry start to catch up to him, and for a brief moment, Harry fears that Draco will take off running again when he sees him.

Instead, he throws his arms around Harry's neck and kisses him soundly, and Harry lets the rest of the world fade to white noise. The kiss is deep and exploratory, and Draco tastes like the rain, and Harry nearly forgets about the risk of slipping on the sidewalk.

His senses return to him once they pull apart. Draco grins like he's won something hard-earned.

"What got into you? Aren't you afraid of getting sick, standing in this? Have you gone mad?" Harry's trying to scold but coming across far too fond.

"Mad for you, maybe," Draco waggles his eyebrows. He leans down and gives Harry a soft, short peck on the lips.

But Harry doesn't let it go so easily. "You've surely ruined your shoes, not to mention your socks. Why did you do that?"

"Because I can, Harry." Draco's expression sobers, and he lifts a hand to cup Harry's cheek, thumb wiping away a raindrop. "Don't you ever want to do things just because you can? Because no one can stop you?"

"I-" Harry starts to argue, and then he lets out a laugh that's more of a huff. "Merlin, and I thought I was supposed to be the Gryffindor."

"You are. That doesn't mean I won't still keep you on your toes, Potter," Draco smirks.

The sound of thunder causes them both to startle a bit and look up at the storm, which picks up speed. Draco takes Harry's hand. "Come on!" He takes off jogging down the sidewalk, pulling Harry with him.

"Draco, where are we going?" Harry nearly stumbles as he tries to match the pace but he doesn't let go of Draco's hand.

Draco looks over his shoulder and meets Harry's gaze with sparkling eyes. "Anywhere we want."

Send me a prompt! See the guidelines here.

[doodle-pops]

Dating Galdor Would Include...

𑁍 First of all, I don’t think or believe that there will ever be a problem in dating this soft elf. He’s not a people pleaser, but he does his best to put you first and ensure that all your needs and wants are met.

𑁍 He adores it when you show interest in his work which leads to him grabbing you by the hand and leading you to his garden to show you all about his plants and flowers, giving you a private tour.

𑁍 One of the best parts about dating Galdor is that you receive lots of plants he spent years nurturing before gifting them to you. You will be taught all the best ways to care for agriculture and learn how to make the best teas. If you wish to become a healer, you’re also in the right place.

𑁍 He is an excellent cook, so do expect to receive hand-cooked meals for your lunch and dinner dates, even for breakfast. There are times he’d invite you over to cook with him, it’s okay if you don’t know how to cook, he’d teach you with a kind smile on his face, patiently.

𑁍 All your walks are done in the gardens as well as picnics. He has probably built a stream/pool in his private gardens so that you two can go for an impromptu dip when the day is hot.

𑁍 He enjoys taking you to balls so he can dance with you the entire night. He won’t even let anyone else have a chance to dance with you—it’s not done out of jealousy—it’s just that he loves the feeling he gets when he’s holding you in his arms.

𑁍 He isn’t strict on rules and society like a few other people, so he’s willing to be silly and wild with you without worrying about what others will say. In his thoughts “If it makes you happy, it makes him happy”.

𑁍 He’s a funny elf, not on the same level as Glorfindel or Egalmoth, but he’s ever funny. He loves to make you laugh when the moment calls for it, he does behave when it’s serious events and the moment doesn’t call for it though.

𑁍 Cuddling is a must for him, he enjoys it more than you’ll even believe. Because he isn’t that energetic, it’s easy to catch him anytime for a cuddling session. He’s always down for being wrapped up in your arms. Most of the time, 9 out of 10, he has fallen asleep to you petting his hair.

𑁍 His kisses are to die for because you had never pinned him as the type to be passionate about them. At first, he’ll cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing them gently before one hand snakes downwards to snake around your waist and the other cups your nape. Gingerly he’ll tilt your head upwards and tease you with the brush of his lips against yours before swooping in for a breathtaking kiss. I mean it. He will take your breath away.

𑁍 Not someone overly stylish but does ensure that he is well dressed, he loves it when you braid his hair for him or sometimes pick out his attire. He doesn’t complain if the braids are mismatched or uneven, it’s the thoughts that count, and he’ll proudly wear them to court meetings. If anyone mentions them, he’d just look at them questioningly and carry about his day.

𑁍 That was perhaps the first time anyone had ever seen him displeased in a long time and for you, he’s very protective of you. He doesn’t appreciate when people bad-mouth you either to your face or behind, he doesn’t tolerate it.

𑁍 He does go about dealing with the situation calmly, too calmly, which is what scares people. He just wants to love and protect and keep you safe at all times and cherish you.

Masterlist

Taglist: @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster

If you would like to be tagged, click the taglist link to join.

[thalialunacy]

[Written for the @calaisreno May Prompt Prom. We are in the homestretch, people. It's like… plot (?) from here on in.]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) 27: jealousy (28) (29) (30) (31)

In his memory, John's mum had had a thousand words for rain. In reality, it was probably more like… twelve, but he never bothered sorting them. Or learning more about them.

He squints up at the overcast sky while Sherlock locks the front door behind them. 'My mum would call this "cloudybright." The kind that makes you want sunglasses despite not being able to see even a sliver of the sun.'

Sherlock raises his arm for a cab. 'That's actually just because--'

'Nope,' John interrupts swiftly, shaking his head. 'Don't want to know.'

Sherlock stares at him.

'Sentiment,' he says with a shrug. Then he climbs into the cab.

---

He's been standing behind Sherlock, who is crouched down examining part of a body, when someone approaches on his left. 'Brolly?' a feminine voice says.

John glances at the umbrella, then at the admittedly curvy and bright uniformed offerer, then at the sky, which has indeed started emitting moisture. 'Huh, I hadn't noticed.'

She shrugs. 'To be fair, it's not actually raining.'

'No, sure, it's more like aggressively misting.'

She laughs, her nose wrinkling. 'That sounds unpleasant.'

'Yes, well, I have been told it ruins a person's hair,' he says with a grin, thinking of Sherlock whinging about the subject several weeks prior.

Then Sherlock stands abruptly. 'We're done here,' he says, not looking at John before stepping away.

John nods briefly at the umbrella-bearer. 'Thanks anyway.'

'Sure,' she says with a high-wattage smile. 

John catches up with Sherlock quickly. 'Cab?' 

'I'd rather walk,' Sherlock says shortly.

They walk for several blocks, Sherlock's temper darkening along with the skies. As the aggressive mist turns into actual sprinkles, John's heart twists a little as he clocks what's going on.

He girds his loins and dives in. 'We agreed that I'd never be able to have any secrets while being involved with the cleverest man in all of Britain, didn't we?'

Sherlock doesn't answer for a moment, and John tries not to let it frustrate him. When the detective does speak, his voice is quiet, with anger but also with what John can only identify as shame. 'We did.'

'Then what is it?'

'You barely noticed her interest.'

'I would think that'd be good?'

'If it weren't because it's so common of an occurrence that you're practically inured to it.'

'Am I?'

'She wrinkled her nose at you.'

'Huh. And?'

'And I've heard that's supposed to be appealing.'

John considers this. 'It's certainly cute when Rosie does it.'

'Don't be obtuse.''

'Sherlock.' John hooks three fingers into one of the Belstaff's pockets, thus arresting Sherlock's movement.

The sprinkling has become soft rain, tepid drops on John's forehead, but he ignores it. They're in the middle of a deserted footpath, so John steps closer and folds his left hand around Sherlock's right palm. He's honestly not sure what to say, and while he's considering his options, Sherlock speaks first.

'I do not enjoy this feeling, John.'

'I know.'

'I never have.'

'I know.'

'It's illogical and unreasonable, which is very annoying.'

John's lips twitch. 'Yeah, I know.'

'I expected it to lessen once I knew what it was, but it didn't. I expected it to lessen once you and I were--' He pauses. 'Once I was assured of your feelings for me.'

'And are you?'

'Am I assured?'

'Yes.'

A ghost of a smile tips one side of Sherlock's mouth up. 'Frequently and soundly, thus far.'

John huffs out a laugh, trying not to let himself feel relieved just yet. 'You can't be too cross with me if you're making rude jokes.'

'I'm not cross with you at all.'

John raises an eyebrow.

Sherlock sighs. 'Must I say it out loud?'

And John understands his reticence, very much so, but they've been intentional about eschewing the Keep Calm & Stuff Down All Emotions bit, despite it being exhausting and really sodding embarrassing. 'Either right now or in therapy next week, yeah. But I'd prefer right now.'

Sherlock scowls, but there's not much heat behind it. 'I take back what I said about not being cross with you.'

John tips up and presses their lips together briefly. 'No you don't.'

Sherlock's free hand touches John's jaw for a moment. 'No, I don't.' He makes a disgusted sound. 'I know it's not to do with you, really.'

'Maybe that's why all the advice is to look inward, instead of trying to find a problem within the relationship.'

'"Look inward"? Have you been dipping into the self-help books?'

John shrugs. 'Maybe. Maybe I want to fix this so you don't feel like hell every time a woman smiles at me.'

'Annoyed?'

'A little.'

'I see.'

'Annoyed mostly that you don't even notice when people smile at you.' 

'That's because I'm not interested.'

'Neither,' John says firmly, gripping Sherlock's hand and looking him hard in the eye, 'am I.'

'I know that. But--' Sherlock makes a frustrated noise and tugs on his wet hair. 'Sentiment.'

The rain has started coming down in earnest. John doesn't care. 'Alright, then,' he says brusquely. 'Worst case scenario, please.'

Sherlock stares at him. A drop of rainwater wanders off the tip of his nose. 'Are you quite serious?'

'Yep,' John answers, popping his P on purpose. 'Worst case scenario, go.'

'That you'll do something idiotic, like find a woman you think better suits, and leave.'

John nods, feeling the rain sneak under his collar. 'And to be fair, I have done.'

'Yes,' Sherlock grinds between his teeth. 'I am aware.'

'So your instinct to fight or flee is rooted in reality.'

'Are you trying to make this worse?'

'No, because I'm not a dick.'

'You're certainly acting like one.'

'So are you! Can't you ever just bloody listen for once?'

'If you were saying something worthwhile.'

'Oh, we've reached that point in the row, have we?'

Sherlock's mobile rings.

He retrieves it and answers it on speakerphone without looking away from John. His lashes are spiked together with raindrops. 'What.' It's definitely not a question. 

Lestrade skips the pleasantries as well. 'We've got a live one.'

Sherlock's head snaps up quickly enough to shake some droplets into John's face. 'Beg pardon?'

'Your suspect just showed up half-dead,' the DI explains. 'And I think you'd agree that he's not clever enough to be faking a broken jaw.'

'It's unlikely. We'll be there as soon as we can.'

Sherlock hangs up and strides away, somehow making puddle-splashing look good.

'We are not done with this conversation,' John calls as he starts after him.

'Yes, we are,' Sherlock says carelessly over his shoulder.

John is glad for the rain cooling his face, which he's sure is red with anger. He sucks in several deep breaths, unclenches his fists, and goes to catch up with his detective.

[ <3 ]

[bethanydelleman]

All the People* who Wield Umbrellas in Jane Austen's novels and What it Means:

Dr. Grant, kindly asking Fanny to step into the house during a rainstorm

Fanny, having been sent into the village on some errand by her aunt Norris, was overtaken by a heavy shower close to the Parsonage; and being descried from one of the windows endeavouring to find shelter under the branches and lingering leaves of an oak just beyond their premises, was forced, though not without some modest reluctance on her part, to come in. A civil servant she had withstood; but when Dr. Grant himself went out with an umbrella, there was nothing to be done but to be very much ashamed, and to get into the house as fast as possible, Mansfield Park

Mr. Weston, kindly (perhaps with motive), getting an umbrella for Miss Taylor and Emma:

Robert Martin, most likely was holding an umbrella for his sisters, then kindly warns Harriet that a path is washed out:

“Ever since the day—about four years ago—that Miss Taylor and I met with him in Broadway Lane, when, because it began to drizzle, he darted away with so much gallantry, and borrowed two umbrellas for us from Farmer Mitchell’s, I made up my mind on the subject. I planned the match from that hour; and when such success has blessed me in this instance, dear papa, you cannot think that I shall leave off match-making.” Emma

Frank Churchill, trying to protect his secret fiancé from the rain:

“And so, there she had set, without an idea of any thing in the world, full ten minutes, perhaps—when, all of a sudden, who should come in—to be sure it was so very odd!—but they always dealt at Ford’s—who should come in, but Elizabeth Martin and her brother!—Dear Miss Woodhouse! only think. I thought I should have fainted. I did not know what to do. I was sitting near the door—Elizabeth saw me directly; but he did not; he was busy with the umbrella. I am sure she saw me, but she looked away directly, and took no notice; and they both went to quite the farther end of the shop; and I kept sitting near the door! Emma

Admiral Croft, making sure Anne can grab an umbrella:

In a few minutes the carriage returned.—Somebody talked of rain.—“I will see that there are umbrellas, sir,” said Frank to his father: “Miss Bates must not be forgotten:” and away he went. Emma

And lastly, Captain Wentworth, offering an umbrella to Anne (Mr. Elliot does not have one, we shall note):

“Well, whenever it suits you. You can slip in from the shrubbery at any time; and there you will find we keep our umbrellas hanging up by that door. A good place is not it? But,” (checking himself), “you will not think it a good place, for yours were always kept in the butler’s room. Ay, so it always is, I believe. One man’s ways may be as good as another’s, but we all like our own best. And so you must judge for yourself, whether it would be better for you to go about the house or not.” Persuasion

Umbrellas in Jane Austen are symbols of love and kindness. Always wielded by men. They provide shelter. A good man carries an umbrella, but not for himself.

After a moment’s pause he said: “Though I came only yesterday, I have equipped myself properly for Bath already, you see,” (pointing to a new umbrella); “I wish you would make use of it, if you are determined to walk; though I think it would be more prudent to let me get you a chair.” Persuasion

*Northanger Abbey's counting of umbrellas to see if it is raining does not count, as the people are unknown

[dumplingsjinson]

enemies but theyre oddly protective of eachother and do everything in their power to ease the other's state of mind even though they 'hate' one another

List of “I hate you but I also care about you. pick a struggle” prompts 

“You could have died, you idiot.” “And why do you care?” “I don’t. It’s just if you die, who the hell am I supposed to take my anger out on without feeling bad about it? Take care of yourself for once.”

“Why does their opinion even matter? When has anyone’s opinion ever mattered to you? You never take shit like that to heart so don’t start now. You’re better than this.” 

“I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not.” “Well, if it’s any comfort, you don’t have to pretend around me. I’ve… I’ve got you.” “Sure you do.”

“If you tell anyone about this—” “I won’t. I don’t like seeing you like this, either. Trust me.”

“I just need someone to talk to.” “…I’m here already, so might as well.”

“For someone who hates me, you sure do care about me a lot.” 

“I took care of that asshole for you.” “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Tell me who did this to you.” “It’s no—” “Don’t give me that bullshit! Tell me.” 

“You’re giving me way too many reasons to start liking you,” Character A mumbles sleepily as they snuggle closer to Character B, tightening their grasp on their shirt ever-so-slightly. “Fucking stop it, it’s so annoying.”

“Why do you look so panicked?” “Because I thought you were going to do something stupid which could have injured yourself! And I can’t have that.”

“Look at me, and only me,” Character B says as they quickly cup Character A’s jaw, forcing them to face them. “What the fuck,” Character A grits out. “What are you doing? Let go of me!” Character B shakes their head. “Just give me a minute. One minute is all I’m asking for,” they plead, glancing behind Character A as Character A's significant other walks past, holding someone else’s hand. 

“Everyone hates me so what’s the fucking point—” “I don’t. I don’t. I’m not everyone. So don’t fucking say that, you idiot.”

“…What’s this?” “An umbrella. I saw you walking in the rain without one so I ran to a nearby convenient store to get you one. Return it to me when you’re able to.”

“…You know I’d never break your heart like they did.” 

“Your secret’s safe with me.” “You promise?” “I swear.” 

“I swear on everything I love—” “Even on me?” “Oh, get fucked.”

“I keep giving you reasons to stay away from me yet you…” “Yet I what? Yet I keep coming back? Yeah, it’s weird, the hold you have over me.”

“Look, I’ll help you shut them up permanently—” “Killing people shouldn’t be your first resort to solving your problems.” “What if I tell you it’s my only resort?”

“My sheets and pillow are starting to smell like you; we’re going to need to change that.” 

“Hey, come on. You know you can talk to me. I won’t use this against you, I swear.” 

[eclipse-rain]

Tr ; Yin and yang : Part 3

☆☆☆

|In case anyones confused about the Sano family tree and where Y/n fits in :

(Great drawing i know. Revere me artists!👹)

Part 1 • Part 2

Masterlist~

|Also try to pick a gender neutral name for yourself if you can (cuz i know your not using your real name your not fooling me cuz who even does that)|

The rain poured once again as it seemed to do endlessly around your existence.

A black umbrella was held high above your head, sheltering your now slightly bigger frame. However, this day you were the one who held your own umbrella without the assistance of a so called social worker who was ment to protect you instead.

You had gotten to the venue on time but only looked on from afar. You waited and waited and waited some more. Until finally almost everyone had come and go. They came and departed after paying their respects and grievances to who you assumed would be shins other three family members. His two younger siblings and his grandfather.

You let your mind wander to them for a time, wondering how they had been dealing with the loss of your shared older brother, even though they knew nothing of your existance.

You quickly snapped your mind back to the task at hand that you had set out for yourself as you saw your opportunity to slip into the venue.

Here you would say your own final goodbyes and grievances to your older brother.

Its bad luck they say. To bring an open umbrella indoors. Have you heard of that one?

Well you didnt care much for supersistion anymore because at this stage what was the point? You could follow all the superstition in the world and your older brother would still remain stone cold in a casket, soon to be burried six feet under in the sano families grave where your mother had also been buried previously.

The last conversation you had had with your mother flashed in your mind once again as it had done many times before.

Her frail arms wrapped around your small body, delicate hands turning your face to meet her own as she uttered those last few words in her soft sickly voice that she tried to keep from shaking.

Her eyes never leaving yours until she was done speaking almost as if she knew they would be her last. Or mabey it was just the importance they held in her own heart, the one thats beating was continuously slowing down as time went on until her sickness would finally take its course and it would beat no longer.

Whenever she held you close to her body as she brushed your hair, throughout your childhood, you listened to that sound. The sound of her beating heart. It relaxed you, you had said to yourself. But deep down you knew you listened to it for the fear that if you didnt, it would become silent, the beating would stop.

And it did.

And your fear had come to fruition.

Because at that time you hadnt been listening to the sound of it but instead to the sound of the words that left your mothers mouth.

They told you it wasnt because of what she was saying.

The doctors. The nurses. Your brother.

They had told you that she hadnt died because of the last one sided conversation you two had had.

But they werent there when it happened. They didnt hear the words that fell from her mouth, dragged out after ragged strangled breaths.

The last gasps of air that she could fill her lungs with as tears fell from her eyes and the grip of her hands on either sides of your face had started to grow a little too tight, her nails almost digging into your ears.

"Dont give your heart away, my love." She had said to you.

"Your too precious for this world. Dont let anyone have it. Do you understand?" She had asked but you only looked back at her blankly, staring into her reddened eyes.

"Y/n my beautiful daughter" she had said so softly, so soothingly

"Bad people try to take advantage of the people with the most beautiful souls in this world." She continued. "This world is unfair so your bound to have bad days but if everything else fails, just have hope. Hope for a better future. Hope for a better life in this world."

Her breathing became more shallow and she had started taking shorter breaths. You didnt know what to do then. You were listening to your mothers words and you didnt want to break eye contact with her, as desperate as she seemed, but the sides of your head had started to hurt from her hand placements and her eyes had grown strange.

"And some day you'll surely-"

Her heart monitor indicated that her heart rate had been rapidly increasing, you had decided then on what to do as you wriggled out of her grasp. You had jumped down from the bed and ran out of your mothers hospital room to get the nurses.

Sure, mabey you could have used whatever that button was that would summon a nurse to your mothers hospital room but did you remember in that sistuation?

No.

Or mabey you did.

You told yourself you hadnt remembered there was such a button or that it would take too long to find it. But the truth was that even though your mothers voice was always sweet and caring and had not changed even in her last words, the look in her eyes had frightened you.

A small child around only nine years of age.

Made to take on such a burdensome responsibility. The responsibility and weight of a sick mother. No one stopped to ask how you were doing or dealing with the situation. No one except shin. The only other person in your life. The only other person who loved and cared for you since birth. Your only other family.

And so after you had alerted the nurses, you had called him, your safety, your refuge. Though that phone call had been the one he had been dreading most.

The news that would turn out to be the biggest challenge you two had yet to face in your young lives.

Could you remember what the converstaion you had with him was, what you had told him?

The answer was no.

You didnt even remember calling him now that you were older.

Your subconscious had scribbled over that part so that in time it would fade and be forgotten. Nothing more than a torn page from your book of life that was currently still in the process of being written. Far from finished, far from even being deciphered by another since your older brother had left you behind in this world.

His own book being forced to a stop too soon, having run out of ink. Having been thrown away into the fireplace to be burned beyond recognition or rememberance.

You once again made your way up that aisle, only this time there was not a single person left inside. No one who would be watching you from where they sat below you, with curious, piercing eyes.

Your open black umbrella left a trail of small water dropplets behind you, as if imitating the tears that you could not produce. When you got to the top and saw your brothers picture framed with a smile on his face as if nothing bad could ever happen, as if it wasnt his own funeral that he was smiling about, your stomach lurched.

You felt sick.

You had been feeling many diffrent emotions up till now. Sadness over your brother death. Nervousness at going to his funeral where you could run into his other family members or be questioned as to why you were there.

Or if they saw your face. How even though you always had a resemblance to him, it had now grown to a sickening degree. You couldnt even imagine what would happen, you didnt want to.

So you pushed it all down once again. Pushed it back as best you could so that you could carry on while holding your head up high. Hold your head up high under that black umbrella that was now your only shelter, your only so called protection. You were alone now. But that also ment you were stronger. You could be stronger.

No. You would be stronger.

You had to be. Or the world that despised you, that bared its fangs at you any chance it got, would open up and eat you too. Just like it had done with your mother and brother.

Unfairness.

Thats what it was.

Every child learns the meaning of that word at a young age. Weather its because their parents wouldnt buy them a toy that they really wanted or because they got a bad score on a test they studied hard for, its shown itself in many diffrent ways. So that they are able to learn its meaning.

However unlike other children you had come to understand the word even more so than learn of its meaning. Like them you had learned of it but they could never truly understand the word, not until everything they cared about had been taken from them.

Everything that kept them alive, that helped them to survive.

When you had only the purest of hearts, the world despised you.

Just like how your mother had said in her final words to you.

You were discarded and now alone.

And so you decided from that day on, the day of your brothers funeral, that you would change.

The girl with only the purest of hearts would use her own fingers to rip it from her chest and reshape it into a dagger.

A dagger in which she could use to carve her initials on the world.

They would all know her name but they would never again know her heart.

There is strength in solitude.

In not relying on anyone.

This was something you couldnt see before when those you wished to rely on were alive. But now that they had been taken from you, now that you were left alone, the path that you must follow had been revealed.

It had finally opened up and allowed you entrance.

~~~

On that day a frame of a person in black could be seen leaving the funeral venue of Manjiro Sanos older brother Shinichiro Sano. A black umbrella held high above their head as they emerged from the previously empty building and stalked off into the distance through the lashing rain.

Umbrella swaying back and forth slightly with the current of winds that swept past and chilled the bones of the living to the temperature of the dead. Without a shield of his own to protect himself from the pelting rain, crystalizing rain soaked into Manjiro Sanos funeral garb as he looked out towards the far distance.

The dark clouds high above the earth split open just enough for a streak or two of light to shine through and down onto that small figure with the black umbrella.

The scene that played out before Manjiro, of that retreating blurry figure, was almost picturesque. It would have been more so if the dropplets of rain that rolled down his cheeks were not taunting him as he tried to hold back tears for his dead older brother. Those which he had just returned from trying to wash away in the bathroom.

The day drawled on in a dim grey colour as the tides of emotions felt by those who cared for Shinichiro Sano could not be swayed by words of comfort alone. Words the two Sano siblings uttered to each other in reassurance although not believing the words themselves were saying above what the other said.

You gained no such comfort from anyone never less the man who was suposed to be your older brother.

No, not the one that had been with you from birth.

Not Shinichiro.

How could he? He was the one you were now mourning and would need comforting over.

So not him but instead your other brother.

No, not Shins younger brother Manjiro Sano either. You had never even met him, only caught glimpses from afar.

A brother who was neither one of them, neither Shinichiro nor Manjiro, yet one you could not break away from never the less.

The man who was not even biologically your other older brother. The man who was involved in the last time you saw Shinichiro before his death. The man who did not respond to you when you had asked him if he was planning to attend both of your elder brothers funeral, even though he had been greatly depressed over the matter like you had been.

Izana Kurokawa.

Why? Why couldnt you break away from him?

You didnt know.

You didnt need him to comfort you now. You were strong enough on your own.

Was it pity? A sence of responsibility?

Maybe this was how your mother felt in her decision to keep and birth you instead of simply moving on with her life. A choice that may as well have cost the last of her remaining health.

Through these circumstances the darkness got darker and in turn so did your urge to become stronger.

Not for a reason like Manjiro Sanos. Not to protect anyone else. But only to protect yourself.

Protect yourself from ever again failing to be in control of your own life. And protect yourself from the hellstorm you knew would approch you in the near future chapters of it.

You could feel it coming upon you. That storm.

The world was about to bare its fangs at you like never before. But this time you would be ready for it. This time you would fight back. This time you would not be helpless. You would not let your life be thrown around in front of you while you could do nothing but watch from the sidelines.

This time you would be a force to be reckoned with and the world would be the one who was unprepaired.

~~~

Takemichi Hanegaki walked with alot on his mind. It seemed as if his problems would never end. As soon as he fixed one thing another problem would arise and thats just what it did again this time. Just who was the man they called Izana Kurokawa? The leader of the gang Tenjiku.

Walking through the doors to his school the boy, lost in thought and unaware of his surroundings, knocked into something in front of him.

"Hey watch where your going" a voice rang out

Or someone.

"Oh my God im so sorry i wasnt looking where i wasgoingareyouallright-"

The guy he had bumped into ignored him choosing to start picking up his fallen papers instead.

'Wow how dumb am i? I had been so lost in thought and worried over my new prediciment that i just made the guy in front of me drop all his belongings' Takemichi thought to himself.

Thankfully he hadnt knocked him over. Although he had a small frame the guy didnt seem like he could get knocked down that easily, thankfully, but that also made Takemichi slightly nervous.

Whenever something like this happened he usually found himself getting beat to a pulp two minutes later. Instead though, Takemichi found himself scraping the papers the guy had dropped off the floor as well in an attempt to help and not inconvenience him any farther.

After they both finished picking up the remaining pieces of paper Takemichi then handed the ones he had collected back to the guy. Angling his head upwards to take them from him, Takemichi got a look at the guys face for the first time.

He had a certain look to him, an aura about him that Takemichi, like usual, couldn't quite put his finger on. Especially his eyes, they felt almost familiar like he had seen them somewhere, on someone before. But Takemichi didn't have time to think about all that right now, he had other things to worry about, other priorities.

"I'm really sorry about that, i was lost in thought" he wanted to give a less rambled apology this time to get his honest feelings across.

"It's fine i wasn't looking where i was going too much either" the guy replied. He had a smooth voice, a calming essence to it but an undertone that hinted there was more to his personality than at first glance.

He almost reminded Takemichi of Mikey, however wierd that sounded. He was used to his hypothesis and ideas sounding wierd by now, they had to be if he ever wanted to figure out what was going on around him. No one around here was very normal anyway, including himself. He could time leap and that certainly wasn't normal, that was like a whole superpower.

The most not normal you could get and even then he was relatively alot more normal than most of the people he had interacted with since he time leaped twelve years into the past. If anyone was completely normal around here it would be his girlfriend Hinata Tachibana as well as Hinas friend Emma Sano, Mikeys younger sister.

Probably because they both weren't caught up in all the gang stuff but either way he felt proud to have a girlfriend like Hina.

Lost in thought once again Takemichi unknowingly cluched the paper in his hand ever tighter.

'Wait. Paper?' He thought

He hadnt been holding anything on his hands when he entered the building.

He brought the crinkled paper up and unfurled it, scanning through it. A test paper? This was one of that guys papers.

"Oh, i forgot to give you this o-"

When he turned around the guy was gone.

"Ah he forgot something" Takemichi said to himself.

Since his attention had been captured by that guys resemblance to the President of Toman he had been lost in thought and forgotten to return one of the papers he had picked up off the floor for him. It instead sat half crumpled up in his hand, the one that was now scarred thanks to getting a knife thrust through it in an attempt to help Draken.

As the bell rang for class to begin, he brought the paper back up to look at it once again and something on the cornor of the paper caught Takemichis eye.

"Oh wait his name is on it, i can just return it to him later." Takemichi concluded. "Lets see Mister..."

"Y/n..."

He hesitated when the sight of that persons last name reached his eyes, his brain not willing to comprehend what he saw.

"Kurokawa...?"

☆☆☆

Reader isnt a guy they just think she is cuz she looks like shinichiro alot so they just never think to think shes a girl

Also i know takemichi doesnt know what shinichiro looks like but he thought senju was a guy so-

@beep-sheep-heart @royal-shinigami @kazu-dump @dedef7890 @simpingfor-wakasa

[where-dreamers-go]

"Summertime" Leon S Kennedy x Reader -- Part One

(A/N: A Lifeguard AU where the only umbrella is for the blocking sun’s rays and rain.

Isn’t this pretty random of you, Erica? Well, yes, but I had decided to rewatch Aquamarine during Mermay and WHAM—idea! I actually haven’t finished rewatching the movie because of Leon.

Warnings: Mentions of a minor scrape on the skin.

Word Count:  1,350 words)

~~~

Every summer for the past few years was spent at the same beach club. The same comfortable atmosphere, friendly owner’s of the beach club, and water-loving regulars. Not to forget the salty air, good food, and a lifeguard that you would trust with your life.

Thankfully.

The bonus? The lifeguard was gorgeous. Not to forget smart and caring. People either ignored him, gave him side-eyes, or swooned at the mere sway of his shiny hair. Some considered him a popular attraction. So serious with his job, however with an interesting sense of humor. If you ever got it out of him. That was Leon Kennedy.

Your friend laughed no matter how funny Leon’s jokes were. They were definitely a fan.

Stepping onto the hot sand, you spotted your friend’s beach umbrella.

You sighed.

Of course they would, you thought.

They had planted the umbrella a few paces away from the Lifeguard tower. Directly in Leon’s line of sight.

You readjusted the tote bag on your shoulder. Calm breaths came easier as long as you kept moving to your destination. If you needed to say anything, you’d keep it short. A simple ‘hi’ went a long way.

You got this. Just walk.

As you entered Leon’s peripheral vision, he turned his head in your direction.

No one and no thing escaped his attention.

“Hey.” Leon gave a small wave from his seat.

“Hey,” you replied automatically. “How’s the weather up there?”

“Sunny and partly cloudy.”

“Nice.”

Movement stole your attention away from the man. Your friend was making quick hand gestures from underneath the umbrella.

What?

Resisting the urge to reach inside your tote and toss a water bottle at them, you simply made your way to the towels. 

“Are you dehydrated already?” You asked.

“No.” Your friend leaned close. “Did you see his smile? He totally smiled at you.”

Slipping out of your shoes, you sat down.

“You saw it, didn’t you?”

“I was a little distracted by my choice in small talk.” You shrugged off your bag. “I hate small talk. It’s uncomfortable and weird. Not the good weird.”

“He could be still looking at you from behind those sunglasses.” They hummed mischievously and rummaged through the tote bag.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Don’t put thoughts in my head.”

“He does have a good view.”

You scoffed, covering your laugh. “You’re adding to those thoughts—not the fun ones. Ones where I’m too aware of what I’m doing and how I look.” You grabbed a bottle of water. “I came to enjoy the scenery.”

“Didn’t we all?” They wiggled their eyebrows before tearing into a bag of snacks.

* *

Passing time by indulging in your curiosities had you by the shoreline. Soft warm bubbles of the water tickled your skin with each wave.

I have to get up earlier for this, you thought. Or wait until low tide.

You were looking for small treasures in the sand. Shark teeth, unique shells, shiny rocks, and the like. Usually you always brought the shells back to the water. That was still your plan.

But plans could be sidelined.

Pain erupted on your shoulder with such a force you fell over.

“Ah.”

Crap.

A volleyball bounced across the shore.

Seriously? You thought and looked down. Right on the shells. Of course.

“I’m sorry!” A tanned beachgoer apologized as their friend went after the ball.

“Yeah. Uh. It was an accident.” You brushed off your hands, treasures scattered the ground.

They nodded and walked off awkwardly.

Movement off to the side caught your attention.

Leon had ran over quickly, the sunlight accentuating his defined arms.

“Hey, are you hurt?” He asked, kneeling down.

“I’m fine.”

You stood up and his gazed dropped to your knees.

“That’s not my definition of fine.”

You cringed.

There were scrapes on your knee. Thankfully, not both of them. Some how.

“Come on, let’s go take care of that,” Leon said softly.

He walked you back to your towel to sit before he jogged to the lifeguard tower and fetched the first aid kit.

“He’s in action,” your friend cheered from close by.

You waved them off.

Chill. He has ears you know, you thought. Not that your friend could hear you.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” He questioned and opened the kit as he approached.

“Just stings.”

“Alright.” He knelt beside you. “I’ll just need to clean it up to prevent any infections, okay?”

“Okay.”

You were surprised you could hear Leon clearly over the beating of your heart.

How different and alarmingly surprising did your day turn out? It went from your friend teasing to collecting small shark teeth to Leon treating your knee?

What was the universe trying to tell you?

“There.” Leon had finished putting a bandage on your knee. “May I check your shoulder? You took quite a hit.”

“Yeah.” You took a peek at it. “It’s gonna be sore later.”

“Probably.” He poked, prodded, and checked your arm’s mobility.

Just breathe. He’s checking you’re fine, you thought. And is really gentle. Very close.

“Any pain?”

“Nope. Just a little tender.”

Leon nodded.

“Well, putting some ice on it will ease any discomfort. If it’s more than sore tomorrow, come and let me know.”

“Okay.” You smiled. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Just watch out for flying objects.” He then added, “If I’m going to spend time with you, I’d rather you not be hurt.”

Your eyes widened.

With a wide half-smile, Leon stood up. He left the first aid kit by the tower before he went off towards the people playing volleyball.

A high-pitched squeal from your friend sealed the memory in your brain forever.

* *

Meanwhile, back in the room. All was excited and communicated.

What else was there to do when getting refreshed? Definitely talking about Leon Kennedy, at least.

“The volleyball of destiny brought him to you,” your friend exclaimed from in front of the mirror.

“Volleyball of destiny?” You repeated, leaning against the wall. “If it’s from destiny, why is it choosing now and not the other summers we’ve been here?”

“Don’t question destiny. Just say, ‘thank you’ and go with it.”

“Thank you, destiny…for not knocking me out.”

You kept in your laugh.

“I think you mean: thank you for blessing me with the closeness of Leon Kennedy.”

“Yes, thank you.” You chuckled. “And thank you, universe, for Leon Kennedy.”

Your friend clapped dramatically.

“Finally! Something exciting’s happening.”

“Hey now,” you held up your hands. “I’m not going to be accident prone, okay? I’m an adult not a kid dodging sports at P.E. everyday.”

They turned around from the sink area.

“Look, just…at least talk to Leon more. Real sentences.”

“I’ll do my best—at being me. No promises on…no fake sentences?”

“Alright, fine. Let’s go. I’m ready for more!” They announced and lead the way out of the room.

Remaining in the air conditioning or finding shade was a well-tuned skill. Something needed around noon.

You and your friend were grabbing a bite to eat inside for lunch. Enjoying the air conditioning full-heartedly.

Thankfully, you both arrived fast enough from your room to get a table. The beach club could get pretty busy.

The two of you were absorbing the atmosphere in silence as others moved about the large room with chatter. Chairs skidding across the flooring. Kids cried for their lost fries. It was definitely summertime.

Glancing around, your eyes spotted Leon. Relaxed and tall, Leon.

In a blink of an eye, he caught your gaze.

The second you were about to avert all eye contact—he smiled.

Turning away with a smile of your own, you awaited your friend’s commentary. The wait wasn’t long. They seemed to see everything.

“If you two keep smiling at each other like that, I’m going to revert to writing fanfiction.”

“What?”

“The past two summers,” they explained, “I really thought one of you would make a move. I’m invested and impatient.”

“Chill. I’m not gonna implode without him.”

“The universe said differently today. Wait until tomorrow.”

You blinked. “That was ominous.”

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Leon Scott Kennedy Tags: @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

[soapy-soartp]

Day 5 of @whumperless-whump-event

Im so sorry Lan Zhan but these prompts just fit you

Day: 5 - STEALING THE BREATH FROM MY LUNGS (GIVE IT BACK)

Prompt: Wheezing / Light-headed / "I'll count, you just breathe."

Fandom: MDZS

Characters: Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen, Backround/Mentioned: Lan Sizhui and Wei Wuxian

“Wangji…” Lan Xichen starts, trying to reason with his younger brother.

Who was once again kneeling by a closed door, desperately waiting for it to open once again for the people inside to let him in.

Even all these years it’s still a painful sight to see, and even more painful to remember. Lan Wangji’s grief and desperation, his own grief and sadness, all far too overwhelming for two young children. But no one around could- no, would help them. The only one who was willing and happy to guide them was gone.

“...” As expected he got silence in return, but he can tell now that his brother’s word may fail him, his eyes don’t.

Those eyes are glassy and far away. So he does what he can as he holds over the umbrella he had over them both.

“…Let’s go inside, hm?” He tries to coax, it was raining instead of snowing but that's to be expected in Lotus pier, where the weather was much warmer than that of Gusu.

“Wangji… They’ll be ok…” He tries to reassure but it falls on seemingly deaf ears.

He can't even imagine what's going through his didi’s head right now, not only was his husband hurt, he couldn't even see him and the scene was far too similar to the one from their childhood.

–

It all happened so fast. At least that’s what was reported, Wei Ying and A-Yuan got hurt.

And he wasn’t there to help them.

“Move! get out the way!”

“I'm sorry, Hanguang Jun but you can't enter while the Jiang healers are in there…”

“They’ll be fine. He’s survived worse and you’ve both raised a tough kid.”

The long engraved need to follow the rules, to keep his composure wars with the anxiety, fear, and dread he feels at this moment.

So he kneels, out in the harsh rain of lotus pier, slightly off to the side from the Jiang sect's healing ward. His brother tries to coax him out of the rain, but he can't hear very well, actually he can’t do anything much more than fixate on the fate of those in the medical ward.

It’s getting harder to think, to breathe. He suddenly feels cold and lightheaded… and his vision starts to swim with dark spots.

Then someone’s (his brother?) is in front of him and there’s hands gripping at his shoulders.

“-ngji?...Snap…it- Breathe!” Is being yelled at him.

Breathe…? Isn’t he breathing? He has to be, why wouldn’t he be… Oh.

He isn’t breathing.

He tries but all he can manage is a wheezing breath, he blinks and his sight fogs over with tears.

“G-ge…?” He manages while struggling for breath.

“Wangji, Didi, it’s alright, you’re alright. Just breathe, ok? Just-” Was the frantic response, he feels himself shift and soon he’s leaning against his brother.

“C-can’t…” He gasps for breath but it ends in a choked wheeze.

“Ah, follow my breathing, hm?”

He feels his brother’s chest rise with a steady breath in and fall with one out. He tries to follow through but his attempts end in staggering wheezes. He feels more dark spots dance in his vision and he, embarrassingly slumps and clings to his brother.

“G-ge…g-ge, can’t. W-wei Yi- Shinz- Shu-” A gasps interrupts his desperate and panicked babbling then he continues on again.

He feels the tears fall as he calls out to the people who he cares for the most.

“Shh… A-zhan, A-zhan. Just breathe.” His brother states firmly, taking his wrists in a firm hold and pulling him in closer to the solid embrace, “I’ll count, just breathe.”

“In for One… Two… Three…” His brother starts, and he tries another breath in.

It was still hard but the solid presence helps, the calming voice and the counting helps. Thankfully after a few rounds of the breathing exercise, his own breathe steadies. But that doesn’t do much for the emotional exhaustion and anxiety he still felt, so he allows himself a moment of vulnerability.

He openly weeps in his brother’s arms, concern for his husband and their child too great to bear. Once he’s truly exhausted himself he slumps fully in the solid hold.

Now they were both soaked and kneeling in a Jiang sect courtyard. He lets out a quiet hum, an apology and thanks to his brother.