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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can I ask headcanons about being Inarizaki manager?

A/N: Hi there and of course you can! You’re my first Haikyuu anon so I hope this lived up to your expectations! I also gave your request a little backstory so you’ll hopefully enjoy this! (´･ᴗ･ ` )

Tags: Inarizaki x reader ✅ SFW ✅ friendship ✅ fluff ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

bearing the title of Inarizaki’s manager was no easy task, in fact, it was pretty tiring and demanded a lot from the person who owned it

or at least that’s what a lot of the failed applicants claimed

it was no secret that the volleyball team organized a test period that lasted a week for each participant and rumor has it that no one has ever made it past day three

there were a lot of people from your class mostly girls that had tried their luck and were overly-confident that they’d be chosen, but right after being failed they never mentioned the volleyball club again

you on the other hand were genuinely interested in the manager position and after contemplating whether or not to apply, with the amount of support you got from your family, friends and teachers you finally found the courage to write your name on the waiting list

unfortunately for your nerves the applicants before you failed way too quickly and before you knew it, your turn had come

a young friendly-looking man with dark and spikey hair came to your classroom on a Monday morning to tell you all the details concerning the club activity later this afternoon

you listened to him attentively, trying to memorize every single detail he told you, but he must’ve noticed how nervous you were because he suddenly stopped mid-sentence

“I’m sorry, you must surely think I’m super rude for not introducing myself first before I bombarded you with all those information. My name’s Akagi and I’m Inarizaki’s libero, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

now that you were more relaxed the two of you wrapped your chat up and bid each other goodbye before you returned to your classroom and waited for your first class to start

all those rumors about the team giving off an entirely different aura than anyone else in school was truly no exaggeration

the moment you entered the gym the prevalent tension alone was enough to make you rethink your plans, but before you could do anything a gentle voice spoke out to you

“Are you this week’s manager candidate?”

when you turned around to see who had asked you that question, you saw a tall young man with a darker skin tone smile down at you

you affirmed his question, introducing yourself with the same nervous tone from before, and fortunately, he as well showed you an equal amount of sympathy as Akagi

“I know that it must be quite overwhelming, but you really shouldn’t worry too much about it. You know I’m actually not supposed to give you any tips, but...out of everyone who walked in here you look the most promising so...just be yourself!”

and with that, the two of you walked towards the rest of his teammates so that you could finally introduce yourself to them

truth be told you expected some kind of long interrogation process and nosy questions, but they paid you good to no attention and just introduced themselves briefly

when they went back to practice their moves the captain stayed behind and asked you some general questions such as how much experience you have with volleyball and if you’re busy during the weekends

after everyone went to go and change, you stayed behind to help some of the substitute players out with cleaning the gym floors and dirty balls when Kita joined you with the cleanup

he must’ve noticed your surprised face since after just a short while he spoke up

“Please pay me no mind, I do these things quite often, so this won’t be the last time my actions will surprise you.”

“Do you do these things out of...obligation?”

the other club members were quite surprised by your sudden question, but it made the light-grey haired young man crack a smile as he told you that he was simply used to doing things the right and proper way

his remark seemed of low importance at that time, but his reasoning still stuck with you, and unbeknownst to you it helped you out quite a bit

the second day passed similar to the first one, but with the only exception that you were allowed to help out with the warming-up exercises

while everyone stretched you were finally able to get a better look at the members and you even took some notes on which exercise they did, which position they played in most frequently, and how they behaved towards their teammates

you used the moment they benched you to go over everything you learned today and needless to say there were a few very noticeable personalities that might need more time to befriend than Aran or Akagi

the first two that stood out were the Miya twins

everyone in school knew them for their constant fights amongst each other, but seeing them play and fight up close was an entirely different experience

they randomly screamed at each other when some tactic didn’t work out how they’d imagined it, but all things considered, they made a great and powerful duo

it also didn’t take you long to tell them apart look wise as well as characterwise which facilitated your notes about them

Suna was the third person you’d have to look out for and pay very close attention to

judging from his playstyle he was quite the troublesome opponent

according to some of the players who sat close to you, he was able to manipulate the blockers to jump right where he wanted them to and some of that manipulation skills even stayed with him beyond the game and made out a big part of his personality

but on a more positive note, he also had a more fun side to him

he noticed surprisingly quick if someone wasn’t in a good mood and depending on how long he’d known them he was also able to cheer them up, but this special service heavily relied on his current mood

as for the rest of the members, they seemed friendly enough and as time passed you were confident that they’d accept you in their circle of friends

the rest of the week passed by in a flash and before you knew it the last day of your “manager exam” had arrived

you were nervous as well as quite afraid that you might not have provided them with the service they needed or wished for, but the confident grins on Aran’s and Akagi’s faces managed to reassure your beating heart

everyone waited for Kita to arrive and with each passing minute you felt like you would pass out

and after what felt like an eternity he finally entered the gym with a black duffle bag and headed straight toward you

he handed you the bag without saying anything, it was after you had taken the small bundle into your hands that he spoke up, a small smile spreading across his facial features

“We’ve tested you throughout this entire week and I’m pretty sure not every single task we entrusted you with was pleasant, but you still held out and did everything the right and proper way...thank you and with this, I’d like to welcome you as Inarizaki’s first and official manager.“

it took you a short while to comprehend just what had happened and while you were still looking at the captain like a lost lamb the rest of the members surrounded and congratulated you

the person who brought you back from your daydream was Atsumu, who tightly wrapped his arms around you in a congratulatory hug

you were quite surprised since up until now he was rather well-behaved and didn’t concern himself so much with you except the usual ‘thank yous’, ‘hellos’ and ‘good evenings’ a club member would give his piers

your bewilderment must’ve been quite evident since someone pulled the blond giant away from you with a sigh

and that someone was no other than his twin brother Osamu who whispered a small apology to you and began to lecture him

“What’s it to ya ‘Samu? Ain’t it ‘bout time we dropped that whole act?”

before they could confuse you more than you already were, Ren placed his big hand on your shoulder giving you a somewhat awkward smile that was meant to console you

Hitoshi joined you two and explained how the team always had to show each candidate the cold shoulder in order to make sure that all applicants were aware of the fact that being the VBC’s manager didn’t mean partying around and chatting up a storm with the members

I see was all you could answer to that rather absurd rule they had come up with

your first day as the official manager didn’t vary that much from what you had seen during your test week, but at least now you were properly talking with all of the members

needless to say, you also became this day’s conversation topic number one

wherever you walked people would whisper amongst each other how you were the chosen one despite so many applicants

some of your classmates though had the audacity to doubt that you had won the guys over in a legitimate way and made no effort to hide their baseless accusations by speaking unnaturally loud when they were near you

it did bother you a little, but you decided to ignore their envious attempts to get you mad, sad, or whatever their goal was and dedicate yourself to getting to know your club members better...

the first few weeks you spent on getting to know the members’ skills as well as their personalities better than what you had seen already in the past week

and before you knew it, you had become not only an essential and precious part of the team but also an irreplaceable friend and companion to each of them

you made sure to help the two captains out as much as you could, but you didn’t only do it out of obligation but because you felt bad for leaving these two - especially Kita - alone with all important tasks

oddly enough a powerful team like theirs didn’t have an advisor so most organizational tasks fell on their shoulders

Kita as dutiful and thorough as he was always tackled the tasks the moment they were given to him so neither Aran nor you ever had the chance to volunteer as helpers

one day though you accepted the assignments before him and distributed them amongst the three of you as equally as you could, whereas you took on a slightly bigger portion since you were their manager

you also made sure that Kita didn’t stay behind until all the streetlights turned on and so it became a tradition for you to join him and Aran on their way back home

during those walks, you got extremely close with them and since they often discussed training and club-related matters, you were also able to learn additional things as well as plan the players’ training regimen for the following days

when you weren’t by their side, you either warmed the bench alongside the other substitute players or tried to help Hitoshi tame the two brothers

you were aware of their regular disputes and had already witnessed one yourself, but back then the team had helped resolve it so you weren’t needed

and now that they had finally found a manager, they reverted back to their habitual behavior: ignore and enjoy their dispute, film it or just look for Kita to resolve the issue

you on the other hand took it upon yourself to play the mediator and started by stopping Suna from recording or taking a photo of them

needless to say, he wasn’t very happy when you confiscated his phone, but after you explained to him that you were simply worried that as heated as the siblings were they’d one day drag him into their fight, he proposed you a deal

“Let me take at least five photos and two videos before I help with calming them down.“

your eyes narrowed as you took on a very confident pose which made it pretty obvious that you weren’t going to back down from his attempt to bargain with you

“Two photos and one video.“

“Make it three.”

“Denied. You either settle for two photos and one video or nothing at all...take it or leave it Suna.”

as much as he wanted to protest, your smug grin made him yield in the end

next up were the taller and more intimidating-looking players who’d usually stand by and laugh or sigh

“Are you really ok with the whole school making fun of our club and treating it like some kind of fighting club just because of these two dunces?”

they were quite surprised at your sudden question but weren’t as taken aback as you when they immediately headed for the gym doors to shoo away all onlookers

as for the troublesome siblings you usually stood between them the moment you sensed that they were about to fight

they’d still try to somehow either pinch the other or slap his backside and you at first tolerated it, but after a while, it just got too distracting and annoying so you straight out took hold of each of their hands and wordlessly glared at them

that method started a new trend and now their teammates constantly teased them for being your children and how funny it was to look at their embarrassed faces while you on the other hand showed no reaction whatsoever

you didn’t expect that sort of outcome, but as long as it stopped their fighting it was worth it

as their manager, you were also put in charge of organizing training matches as well as signing them up for tournaments and nationals (with the help of the coaches and captains of course)

your first training match was quite exciting and you were surprised at the number of people that came to see it

the guys were almost always in their top form when they played so you rarely had to worry about their health condition and that took quite the weight from your shoulders

even if someone showed the slightest symptoms of a cold or anything of that sorts, Kita and you would instantly be there and get the player to go home and rest

you knew that some of them hated being sick since it meant that they’d miss out on practice and saw it as some kind of betrayal towards the team

Atsumu was one of these types of people and he was the heaviest case out of all of them

so you made sure to drop by the twins’ house after club activities ended and cheer him up, by changing the cloth on his forehead, cutting some apples for him, or just being there to keep him company

after that Osamu would always insist on bringing you home since the sun had already set

the two of you would always talk about the most random things, but sometimes your conversations got quite serious and personal

in fact, you were the first person he shared his future plans with, saying that he could trust you with keeping it a secret

as for the nationals...

your first one was very overwhelming

the gym was so enormous that it outshined any other gym you had visited with them

it was no secret that the entire ambiance intimidated you and the moment you saw their personal cheering squad you couldn’t help but freeze-up

you had heard that their cheering squad was like no other and that it even rivaled that of many other powerhouse schools, but much like other rumors you had dismissed it

...until now

“Impressive isn’t it?” Ren asked to which you just nodded

but you noticed quickly just how much of an effect their audience had during the match

their steady and powerful rhythms managed to not only motive your team but also discompose your opponents

what surprised you the most was how the older gentlemen in the crowd didn’t hold back on their snide remarks when someone made a mistake or didn’t play seriously

after each match, all of you had come up with small rituals you’d do

depending on the outcome of the game you’d either throw a small party to commemorate their victory or try to cheer them up with a motivational speech followed by a movie night

all in all, you truly came to love volleyball, as well as your team and each of its members, and they did too

they were truly happy to have won such a dependable and caring manager like yourself

the entire team always made sure to celebrate your birthday and go all out on your presents as well as on the party they’d organize for you

all of them always made sure to return your kindness with double the effort and love you had given them

you were sick?

no problem, every day two members would visit you and take turns in taking care of your needs until you were healthy

you were sad?

they’d buy you your favorite snacks, cook you your favorite meal, rent your favorite movie and then knock on your front door, demanding to be let in

...and so on

they had become something like your second family and you didn’t even dare imagine a scenario where you didn’t apply for the position of the manager

the same goes for them, they had given up the hope to find someone who manages their team, but the moment you had entered the gym they almost instantly knew that you’d be the one to take them to victory

and they were right...

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #inarizaki headcanons #haikyuu fluff #━𝙷𝚀 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾

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7wanderingpaws · 3 years

Text

Always, yours (2)

(gif not mine) - THIS Baek tho..... ㅠ

Warnings: none

Word count: 6.5K

Tags: @geniusloey (please let me know if you want to be un/tagged!)

❤ Enjoy! Please let me know your thoughts! ^^ Have a good start of the week!❤

Also, the new apartment!

Masterlist / story masterlist

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Second - My name is Lee Junho and I will be your trainer

You stood at the entrance of the gym, your palms somehow clammy. You didn’t realize putting on leggings would look this bad. Tears welled up in your eyes when Sukyeong took your hand to yank you inside.

“C’mon, don’t be ridiculous,” she whispered to you and when she managed to pull you inside, she pressed her fisted hand against your back, making you walk ahead. “You look great! You don’t even look like you��ve been pregnant,” she hissed in your ear.

Arguable, you thought right away but decided not to be any more negative. The only good point was you were able to leave home without the triplets. Baekhyun, just as promised, was home by six so you didn’t have to worry about leaving them at the baby corner (it was baby safe, you went to check the place out).

Slightly bowing to the other girls as you walked past, most of them your age or older, you decided to be in the back, far away from the teaching lady. You imagined her being young, and very fit. Her black hair would be shiny and she would have make-up to look perfect. A great way to ruin one’s self-esteem such as yours.

However, a single nudge from Sukyeong and your non-existent self-esteem basically vanished into thin air. Instead, anxiety with a sprinkle of bewitchedness, hit you for in walked a handsome male, around Baekhyun's age, with eyes like that of a cat's; narrow and sharp, his features leveled, nose straight with a pair of plump lips. He had longer dark hair that fell over his forehead in fluffy waves.

“Good evening, ladies!” he announced himself, clapping twice to gain everyone's attention. He didn't have to do it though; more than half of the ladies were already salivating over him, including your best friend. When the trainer saw wide eyes on him, he let out a boyish chuckle and this time, you couldn't escape the charm either. He was incredibly handsome. “My name is Lee Junho and I will be your trainer! I have some experience with working out,” he joked and, of course, everyone laughed louder than it was necessary. His toned chest and arms spoke volumes about his experience. “Please, let me know in advance if there are any injuries you have so that I can adjust the exercises to you accordingly. Do you have any questions?” He looked around with interest, his eyes skimming through any possible curious hand.

“Should I tell him that I'm…. you know,” you mumbled to Sukyeong but before you could finish your sentence, you shook your head, stopping yourself. It will be alright, you thought. As always, you made sure to feed the triplets properly and pump your breasts, so you expected no problems with the excessive breast milk leaking over your t-shirt this time.

Just like that, you found yourself jumping up and down as the exercise started. Lee Junho seemed to be a great professional, always adjusting everyone's postures to ensure full effectiveness. With the help of the deafening pop music, everything seemed suddenly possible. Until it came to you and until he lingered more by your side than the rest of the girls.

It was to be expected, but you still felt stupid. You couldn't do the push-ups like all the other girls who already had a great body. Meanwhile, hidden under Baekhyun's huge black shirt that you stole, was your still-fading baby bump. It was difficult to even try to get your shoulders off the mat as you did sit-ups; you were heaving loudly, sweat dripping down your face.

“Push just a little bit more,” murmured Junho with an encouraging smile as he put his hand between your shoulder blades, helping you sit up higher. It was a good support, but your abs were on fire, numbing everything that was made out of your core. “That's right, keep doing it like that.”

You hummed, and tried a few more times before giving up. Sukyeong wasn't that much better than you, but she still could sit up. She flashed you a small smile and mouthed: “Are you okay?”

You nodded, resting your head on the mat, trying to breathe through the workout.

As you moved through various core strengthening exercises, you started to feel it. The hurting in your breasts, the kind of feeling that you tried to prevent from happening at all costs. The closest you could compare it to was rocks.

You felt yourself panicking when you looked at Junho who was paying attention to someone else. If you wouldn't leave now, it would be too late.

“I'll be back in a minute,” you told Sukyeong, scrambling up to shaky legs. Baekhyun's shirt was getting wet now, your sports bra quickly becoming a bucket full of milk. Making few quick steps, you walked over to the door when Junho spoke up:

“Oi, are you okay? Are you sick?” He came running to you by the entrance door.

You shook your head with a polite smile. “I really need to use the bathroom.”

“Oh, we will be finishing up soon,” he said, giving you a look. Right, kids in kindergarten were learning how to hold their pee in, not how to hold back the breast milk.

You were embarrassed, but you still said: “Well, I ate something bad and this won't wait any longer-” you pushed the door open and jogged for the toilets, already pushing up the soaked shirt. Once safely inside, you yanked down the sports bra and let the milk out. You exhaled a loud sigh of relief. You knew this would cause a little mess as it was several streaks that were leaking, the milk staining everything around.

Chewing your lips, you strained your ears when you heard commotion outside, the class most probably finished. You'd been in the toilets for at least ten minutes now, so you expected Sukyeong to come search for you soon.

There was a hasty knock on the door and you were fast to hide your chest back under the shirt. Then you heard your best friend's whisper: “It's just me! Can I come in?”

You were fast to give her the permission. She closed the door behind her and you took out your breasts again, the milk once again spraying everywhere. Sukyeong scratched her head, clueless. “I have a spare shirt. Here,” she handed you the white thermal-shirt.

You shook your head. “No, I cannot wear this. It'll stain and I bet the shirt was expensive,” you bit your lip. Before she could protest with a conflicted gaze, you just waved your hand nonchalantly. “I'll be done soon. It's already much better. Besides, I don't think I could push it over my chest. I'm huge,” you admitted quietly, a little embarrassed. You trusted Sukyeong and she would never joke or judge but it was still an uncomfortable situation only Baekhyun was allowed to witness. When you saw she wasn't convinced, you added with a smile: “Baekhyun gave me a sweater before coming here, so I will wear that. Go and get our stuff? I'll be out in a minute.”

“Will you be fine?” she said, her eyes widening in small fear at the sight of the milk.

“Of course,” you winked. She gave you a look over and when she was convinced, she turned, leaving you in the toilets alone.

Just a few minutes later and the flow finally calmed down. You took some toilet paper, wiping yourself up before cleaning up the surroundings. You were drained and you didn't even finish the workout.

When you were sure everything looked decent, you finally walked back to the gym. It was empty; only some distant sounds of chattering coming your way. Sukyeong was in the corner, entertaining the trainer.

“Are you okay?” he asked you when you walked over to them, taking your bag and your phone along the way. Junho didn't look necessarily worried, but he seemed to care enough about his clients which you found good enough.

“Yes,” you smiled half-heartedly. “Thank you.”

Sukyeong bowed to Junho. “Then we will take our leave!”

“Alright, it was nice meeting you. I will see you on Thursday, ladies,” he pressed a smile, bowing politely. He kept following you with his sharp eyes and, unconsciously, you became shy under his scrutiny. There was something happening whenever your eyes met and you weren't sure what it was. Maybe you were just making it up because he was handsome and you wanted to believe he had an eye for you. It would make you feel like you could have been special.

“Goodness, what a hotshot,” murmured Sukyeong to you as the both of you left the premises of the gym. “He is so smart!”

You sighed, quickly putting on the sweater Baekhyun pushed into your hand before leaving the apartment. You will be sweaty, make sure to wear this once you're done, he would tell you. “You managed to get something out of him?”

“Doesn't seem to be here just to eye the girls,”she informed you proudly as she slugged her bag over her shoulder. “So that is a plus point!”

She led the both of you to the carpark, her shiny small Kia awaiting you near the exit. It was a good idea to park it nearby as you didn't have to walk more on your wobbly legs. Once seated inside, you threw your bag on the backseat and sighed, leaning your head back against the headrest.

“Are you alright?” asked Sukyeong, uncertainty evident in her eyes as she placed her bag behind her seat and turned back front, pressing the button to bring the car to life.

You nodded, though she couldn't see you. “I'm okay, thank you.” You hesitated. “Maybe a little embarrassed,” you finally admitted, staring out of your window to see other women entering their cars. Many of them owned Mercedes' or BMWs and you instantly wondered how they were able to afford such a car at such a young age.

“Oh, dear, no.” Sukyeong was fast to turn to grab your thigh, trying to bring your diverted attention to her. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I literally told him if I don't leave I will poo myself,” you whined and turned to her dramatically.

Sukyeong was about to refute but she stopped, surprised at your words. “Wait, you told him that?”

You nodded, exasperated. “I told the handsome dude I can't keep it in if he won't let me leave. I couldn't possibly tell him: yo, move or else I'll shoot you down with my breastmilk now, could I?”

She burst out into a huge laughter, her nose scrunching up in the process. “Well, if you say it like that!”

Both of you were now laughing, though you were more on the desperate side. You really made an idiot out of yourself while still having the issue of controlling your milk.

“You know, I think it would be good to tease Baekhyun a little bit. I told you that you shouldn’t let him prioritize his job. If he does it you need to show him you aren’t someone he can take for granted.”

Your joyful smile slowly melted into a frown. “Baekhyun never took me for granted and you also know it.”

“Of course I know it! I’d trust Baekhyun with my life,” she insisted quickly and started driving out of the car park and out to the busy Seoul traffic. It was incredible how this city never slept. “I’m just trying to say that a little bit of teasing never hurt anyone. You’re now a mother and you have three kids together.”

Small silence took over the car. You were looking out of the window, enjoying the unusual luxury of being in a car instead of a packed bus while your mind was roaming over what your friend said. “So, you say our relationship can become rusty? He would lose interest after some time now that I’m not so... fresh?”

Sukyeong breathed out a small laugh at the choice of your words. “I doubt Baekhyun would get tired of you. Ever. It is true that men see their women differently after birthing their children.” She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, thinking over what to tell you. “You’re only twenty-three —you’re too young, so make sure to let him know you’re still full of life and can become hard to tie down.”

You let out a doubtful snort but you felt uneasy at the topic. It never occurred to you that one day you and Baekhyun wouldn’t be together. It never occurred to you that you could lose love for each other because both of your interests would change and he would seek consolation from another partner and maybe you would stay alone. This wasn’t a new thought to you; Jiyoung, Baekhyun’s ex colleague, was challenging you more than enough in the past but even then you knew Baekhyun wasn’t interested in her. What if he found someone that actually piqued his interest?

You shook your head quickly, rejecting the ugly idea. “You city girls have a very interesting way of thinking.”

“Just do it.” Sukyeong looked at you with excited eyes when she stopped at another red light. “Mention a hot trainer and see what’ll happen,” she told you wickedly, giggling.

Upon arriving at home, you were met with Baekhyun's high-pitched talk. It calmed you down right away, and you felt like in safe haven after the small fight in the gym.

“I'm home,” you sing-sang, dropping the bag down by the entrance and taking off the sweater.

Baekhyun faked a gasp. “Who is it, Jun? Is it mummy? Let's check it out quickly!” And within a second, he appeared with Jun hanging off his connected arms, pretending he was on an airplane. Even though you trusted Baekhyun with keeping the baby safe in his arms, it gave you a little heart attack. Besides, triplets were still too small for that. “Look, Jun, it's mummy!” he exclaimed while looking over his shoulder, most probably checking Juna and Junhee. “Welcome home, babe,” he told you with a leveled voice, looking at you now. He adjusted Jun in his arms, having his head on his shoulder while you took off your shoes, watching him.

Your husband looked so incredibly soft. His hair was now covering his forehead, somehow making his eyes look much more puppy-eyed, just like the baby he was holding. Despite being so wide and incredibly manly, you had the urge to squeeze his cheeks like you would do to your triplets, because he was so adorable, so loveable. He was wearing his huge white T-shirt and black pants and no socks; the typical look when he was home, but for some reason, after going through challenges in the gym, you felt like he was much more inviting and cuddly, providing you comfort by simply being him, by simply staring at you with those soft eyes. He was so Baekhyun.

“I see you are having a good time,” you noted with a smile and stood on your tiptoes when Baekhyun demanded a kiss with puckered lips like a little duck. You made sure to cradle Jun’s tiny butt, your expert hand immediately knowing he had a change of the nappy recently.

“Now it's much better,” he muttered, kissing you with a loud smooch. “How was the work-out?” he asked when he straightened up, rocking Jun exaggeratedly in his arms. Just then, his eyes dropped to your chest, the white stains very much obvious on the black textile. “Shit, did you leak?”

You shrugged, not wanting to talk about it as you walked past him to greet your daughters that were on the playmat with their little toys. “I should have known better.” Baekhyun followed you, watching as you sat down and kissed the two baby girls. “Time to change the nappies over here, hm?” Your voice was light as you touched the babies’ butts but you were surprised when they were all clean, too. Baekhyun must have worked hard during your absence.

“Sweetheart, we should go to the doctor's,” Baekhyun told you as he sat down on the couch in front of the play mat. Jun squirmed in his arms, whimpering, so he laid him gently on the blanket that was splayed next to him. “I don't like this and they could solve the issue.”

You took Junhee's tiny feet into your hands, massaging them, the skin incredibly smooth under your palm. “I'm scared they will do something that will prevent me from feeding them.”

“You know it doesn't matter whether you feed them breast milk or we give them formula. You breastfed long enough anyway. This is about your well-being, too.”

“I just want them to be close to me as much as possible,” you said, lowering your voice. It made you remember how you didn’t even think much about feeding your kids while being pregnant, and now here you were, reluctant to let go of breastfeeding. Three babies was a lot of hard work, but it was always your dream to be a mother. You wanted to make sure you really didn’t have a choice before you would make a decision. Baekhyun was correct, but you still believed the longer you were with the babies the stronger would be your bond with them. “It's a good way for them to be connected to me.”

Baekhyun observed you for a moment before checking Jun whose feet were up in the air, his tiny hands coming up to pat on them clumsily. He was a little baby ball discovering all the possible movements his body was slowly able to make. “I understand. I just want you to know that it isn't a bad thing if you stop doing it. Some women can't breastfeed at all.”

“Because they are unable to, Baekhyun.” The way your voice had an edge to it made you look up at him to catch a little panic in his eyes. He didn't want to make you upset and you felt guilty right away. “I am perfectly able to provide them with milk, but I overproduce and yes it makes my life a little more difficult but I don’t want to lose this opportunity. I'd rather not go.”

“Okay, as you wish,” he gave up quickly, not wanting to argue. He understood why you would be upset. And usually, he would try to be more persistent since he didn’t want you to suffer but he could sense your damp mood; the workout most probably gave you a harder time, he guessed. And, of course, he, as a man, couldn't comprehend completely what you were going through when your milk was flowing from you like an unstoppable mountain stream.

You hummed and stood up, your ankles sighing at the movement. “I'll go wash up.”

Baekhyun followed you with his gaze until you disappeared in the corridor that led towards your shared bedroom. He looked back down at Jun and then at the girls on the mat. “Well, what shall we do to make mummy feel better?” he pouted at them.

Small baby gurgles came back to him in response. “Right, I agree,” he replied thoughtfully. He was quiet for a moment, only hearing the distant sounds from the TV and your movements in the bedroom. Checking the clock on the opposite wall, he was fast to jump up. “Now, you naughty kids, it’s way past your bedtime and you still don’t sleep! Let’s get you all to the crib before mommy comes back!”

Since the triplets were calm, he knew they would fall asleep soon. He made sure their energy would be somehow drained while you were away although he was sure he used up more energy than they did. It was difficult to work with infants and he didn’t know how you managed it on a daily basis nonstop. Another reason for him to admire and respect you.

“I’ll see you whenever you wake us up,” he told them when he put Jun, the last baby, in the crib. He laughed gently to himself and observed his offsprings with a tender gaze. He had to admit that Jun looked like him when he was a baby. Junhee was definitely your splitting image while Juna seemed to be in the middle, though her eyes were Baekhyun’s, too. She was the perfect mix of you and him.

He wondered which one of them would love hapkido. He wondered which one of them would be smart in mathematics like you were. Which one of them would hate foreign languages and cucumbers? Which one of them would cry the most in the kindergarten and which one of them would always be the quiet one? Baekhyun hoped and wished that the triplets would have a special bond that would always protect them from getting hurt by other people. After all, the world kept getting harsher and harsher day by day.

“I’ll always be there for you,” he whispered just when Junhee’s eyes closed, her small mouth hanging open when she let go of the pacifier. “You’ll always have me and mummy to protect you. Always.”

You took your time in the bathroom. Muscles you didn't know existed were aching, so you took the luxury to let yourself be soaked in warm water a little bit longer. There was a soft knock on the door and you quickly let Baekhyun enter.

He was expressionless but when you locked eyes as he closed the door with his back, he pulled a smile meant only for you. “Do you feel better?” he asked quietly, setting the monitor on the sink before walking up to you. He leaned down, pecking you on the top of your head.

“Much better,” you sighed, closing your eyes when you felt his hand slide down your cheek and to your neck. Since he brought in the monitor with him, you took it he managed to put the babies to sleep. It only made you feel worse that you still could become irritated at such a good husband like Baekhyun. “Sorry I snapped at you.”

“No,” he was fast to mutter against your hair, his thumb grazing the skin on your jaw. “I understand. I am just worried, is all.”

“I know, and I don't appreciate it enough,” you replied and Baekhyun pulled away to look down at you with crinkled eyes.

“You do much more, sweetheart. Don't be so harsh on yourself, hm?” He let go of you and slid down next to the bathtub, his back against it. You had the urge to splash him with water but you decided you would have a water fight another day. “Besides, you went to work out after a full day of mothering. It's only natural you'd be frustrated.”

“If only you couldn't read me so well.”

Baekhyun smiled to himself. “How could I tease you if I wouldn't know my wife so well, hm?”

He heard you let out a small chuckle from behind him. “Life would be so much easier.”

Your husband laughed and turned his head to look at you over his shoulder. Water was just barely covering your chest, your cheeks were rosy from the heat and your baby hair was curled up from the humidity. Goodness, he couldn't stop staring. You looked like an angel.

“What?” you murmured, his intense gaze making you pink even more.

“Nothing,” was his breathy reply. “Just admiring my gorgeous little lady.”

With a shy smile, you sat up, causing small waves in the bathtub, and you pressed your lips to his pouty ones. His eyes widened playfully and when you wanted to pull back, he chased your lips, grounding you. You smiled, bringing your wet hand up to his cheek, but he didn't react to the wetness, simply prolonging the innocent kiss. “You know,” you told him when you separated, your noses still touching. Baekhyun hummed in interest, watching your lips before he flickered his orbs up to yours. “There was a really hot guy in the gym.”

Baekhyun blinked a couple of times, letting your words sink in and he was fast to withdraw from you. “What?”

You giggled, satisfied at his reaction. It wasn't that bad to listen to Sukyeong's offer after all. “Yes, he was the one leading the class today.”

“A hot guy leading a class for women?” he repeated, surprised.

Now then, why did he ever expect you to just not pay attention to other males? You never did, or so he thought, but he was still taken aback. The way your eyes sparkled in mischief was an obvious sign that you were just trying to rile him up for whatever reason, yet he still felt a little protective. Did that man look at you, too?!

“Why, you don't like it?” you quipped, poking your tongue out to him.

He observed you giggling, your eyes crinkled up when you took note of his disapproval. Something moved within him. “You want me to like it?”

You sighed lovingly and booped his nose. “I want you to like me, silly. I’m just playing around.”

Baekhyun huffed, offended, and spoke in a prominent pout: “I don't like it, young lady. You have me. You have triplets with me. I love you. And you love me.”

“That, I do.” Bringing up in the air your left hand, you looked how the band on your fourth finger caught the light in the bathroom. “And here is the proof.”

He was looking up at your hand and he joined it with his, his own ring shining just like yours. He enveloped his fingers around yours gently. “Why would you try to make oppa worried about such things?” murmured Baekhyun in wonder as he stood up and towered over you. He let go of your hand and leaned further down so his face was close to yours, his long neck chain swaying in the air between you. “Oppa doesn't like sharing, but you know that, right?”

You nodded, awaiting his next words. Except, it wasn't words. Baekhyun surprised you by swiftly lowering his hands into the warm water to grab a hold of you under your knees and waist. You squealed, suddenly scared you might slip out of his grip so you quickly circled your arms around his neck, water splashing everywhere. But seeing his biceps flexing you knew he was much better than Lee Junho or any other trainer there was.

“I'm naked and wet, Baekhyun!” you screamed and Baekhyun laughed loudly, enjoying your little panic as he moved you out of the bathtub, bringing you over where the sink was.

“Hmm, exactly,” he hummed in appreciation, his eyes twinkled and you quickly hid your face in his neck, embarrassed. “You don't get to play with oppa's heart like that and not get punished, baby girl.”

Despite the excitement, he put you down, more worried about you catching a cold than teasing the hell out of you. As soon as your legs were on the floor, you slapped his chest, making the male groan. “You silly! You could have dropped me!”

“I would never,” he denied quietly, pecking you sweetly and reaching for the towel that was hanging next to the bathtub. “And don't forget,” he reminded, wrapping the towel around your shoulders, making sure it was catching every drop of water, “that you still have a punishment list from when you were pregnant. Don't think I forgot.”

Your eyes widened in horror and you frowned at him like a little kid though secretly you really thought he had forgotten. “You are being so mean right now!”

Baekhyun only smirked and tapped your naked bum gently as he brought your body closer. “You asked for it. From now on, I won't hold back anymore,” he murmured, brushing your hair behind your ear. It tickled.

There were feelings of excitement, eagerness and curiosity bubbling in your tummy, or maybe those were just the butterflies Baekhyun awakened whenever he did something heart-fluttering and challenging to your relationship. It was a long time since you two had been together, but finding ways to ignite the passion and desire in the both of you was Baekhyun's specialty. And you would try to make it yours, now that you seemed to find a weak spot of his.

“You can start by kissing me as a thank you for bringing you out of the tub,” he said when you didn't reply.

You scoffed and re-adjusted the towel, bringing it around your body. It made you feel conscious that you were completely naked in front of him, although Baekhyun didn't even pay attention. His own clothes were wet since he brought you out of the water. The white tshirt was stuck to his stomach, perfectly outlining his muscles.

Baekhyun pursed his lips when you didn't listen. You turned to walk out of the bathroom but he was fast to grab your wrist, turning you back to him. “I said, give me a kiss.”

“No!” You shook your head resolutely, sticking your lower lip out as you frowned, hoping to make him agitated.

The excitement in you only doubled when Baekhyun quirked an eyebrow, leaning his head closer to yours and turning his smooth cheek towards you as he tapped his long index finger on it. “C’mon, a peck for oppa.”

His other hand sneakily wandered to your side to tickle you and you were fast to giggle crazily, pushing his hand away. “Okay, okay,” you said quickly and pressed your lips to his awaiting cheek. He hummed, feeling your mouth stretched in a smile and he turned his face, his lips colliding with yours.

You squealed, wanting to step back - because he was being unfair - but his hands sneaked around your waist, bringing you to him and therefore successfully caging you in. He urged your mouth open, slowly pushing his tongue into your cavern that became quickly eager to feel him. You sighed and slid your hands up his sturdy chest. You nibbled on his lip though he quickly stopped you when he sucked on your tongue hard, bringing out a small moan out of you. He made out with you sensually and you knew you were becoming giddy because of him.

He let his hands grope your bum, giving a good massage to your aching muscles and you moaned again, satisfied. “I guess I will have to show you a much better workout routine,” Baekhyun whispered when he let go of your lips with a smack.

Your heart skipped a beat when you realized there really wasn’t anything standing in your way. The triplets were asleep and Baekhyun riled you up so much it would be difficult to lie down next to him without touching him. “Then show me, oppa,” you made sure to emphasize the “p” sound, his twinkly eyes on your swollen lips.

He chuckled lovingly and kissed your forehead, his lips leaving a bit of moisture behind. Gently intertwining your hands, he led you out of the bathroom and straight to your bed.

“Lie down for me, sweetheart,” he told you quietly as he went to close the bedroom door. Once you got the needed privacy, he reached behind him, pulling on the shirt that he swiftly took off, your eyes appreciating the way his muscles flexed. He threw it on the floor and walked over to you, already lying on bed as he told you to. “Let me remind you that you’re oppa’s,” he mumbled with passion, already distracted by your body that was still covered with the towel.

His words ignited the desire in you and when he hovered over you with a focused gaze, you knew this would be a long night for the both of you.

On Thursday, you went to the gym with determination. The reason was simple: two babies hanging off you and one hanging off of Sukyeong. Baekhyun was running late from work so you had to bring them with you this time. Despite your huge worries, you had to drop them off at the baby corner. The kind, elderly lady showed you the young babysitter that would be in charge of your triplets (after everyone stopped ogling them and squealing about how cute they were). Her name was Sonhee and her smile was the purest you had ever laid eyes on. Her face was gentle and her eyes seemed to be telling a story of a difficult life. What was a little interesting was that you had a feeling you had seen her somewhere before and it wasn't in this gym.

“Do you have any license to prove that she is capable of taking care of three infants?” barged into the conversation Sukyeong, her eyes suspiciously looking over the girl. Even though you had the same question, you wouldn't have uttered it so bluntly. “She looks too young. Even younger than their mother,” she added with a huff.

The lady in charge, Mrs Lee, didn’t show her shock - that was if there was any. “She is the eldest sibling in her family. At home, she is taking care of five more siblings and she is a kindergarten teacher in practice during the school year.”

Your mouth shaped an “o”, nodding thoughtfully and you quickly nudged Sukyeong, catching her opening her mouth to rebut again. “Thank you. I know Sonhee won't do anything to undermine my trust.”

“I will do my best.” Sonhee bowed the perfect 90 degrees and you quickly lowered your head as well, accepting her respect. “I will make sure nothing bad will happen!”

You smiled and quickly looked over the triplets again. They were three months old and you would already let them be with a stranger. Were you still considered a responsible and good mother?

“All the rich mothers do it and they are considered great for doing it,” answered your question Sukyeong in a monotone as you were walking to the gym. “It is just sixty minutes - what can happen during such a short time?”

You frowned, pouting. “Oh, once you'll have kids, you will know, Sukyeong-ah,” you mumbled under your breath. With babies, things could go wrong within seconds. What made Sukyeong ever believe leaving babies alone for sixty minutes was safe?

“Well, it'll be fine!” she smiled brightly as you entered a still empty gym. You put your bag and phone down, and noticed the last message Baekhyun wrote:

sorry again baby enjoy your workout let me know if the munchkins were okay when you dropped them off love you baby ❤️

Your heart fluttered at the last sentence and you shot him a quick reply with an update when you heard the door of the gym opening, you trainer, Lee Junho, appearing.

He had a sleeveless sports shirt that showed his defined arms and boy, was he chunky in all the right ways. You were the first one his eyes fell on and his straight lips stretched into a delightful smile. To your surprise, he called your name: “Hello! You came already today! Ah, Sukyeong, too!”

You gave him a shy smile and caught him looking quickly over your outfit. The typical. Baekhyun's huge shirt with old pants that your legs could get lost in. You wouldn't be wearing leggins any time soon, you swore. All the ladies wore tight pilates clothing, so you were aware you looked like a trash bag but you never felt more comfortable. Just to see whether Junho let something on in his face, you watched him, but he only diverted his attention to Sukyeong who greeted him with a wide smile.

“Were you alright on Tuesday after the class?” asked Junho as he started to stretch on the floor.

Sukyeong, wanting to be a good student, followed him while you were still standing, the phone in your hands vibrating with most probably incoming messages from your husband. You pinked.

“Ye-yeah, I was … okay,” you mumbled. You already forgot about the stupid lie you made up so he would let you go to the troilets on Tuesday. Baekhyun made sure you forgot about every sane thought that night, so in conclusion, you were more than alright after class on Tuesday.

Junho nodded attentively. “Well, you can try to take it easier today, I won’t mind,” he winked with a grin.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Alright.”

“Is it exam season at uni that has you so stressed?” was his next question when he reached for his stretched out feet.

“Sorry?”

“Ah, right, well she could easily be a uni student,” giggled Sukyeong, looking at you. “My friend is still so young. She shouldn’t be so stressed, right, Junho?”

Junho watched your friend from the corner of his eye with amusement. “It would be great if no one had any stress in their lives.”

Deciding not to answer, you wanted to check your messages but the rest of the class started to arrive, so you joined Sukyeong instead. Stretching was always a good choice and Baekhyun told you about the importance of warming up properly.

“He seems to be interested in you,” whispered Sukyeong eagerly when Junho became busy replying to his fangirl students. “You piqued his curiosity!”

“Shh, stop that!” you winced, pushing her. She was spitting nonsense to tease you but- why was your heart skipping like that?!

After waiting for five more minutes, you started the workout. Even though you were already terrible, you had a weird anxiety from Junho. Maybe it was Sukyeong’s teasing that made you weirdly conscious of his gaze whenever he looked your way or looked directly at you.

You were sweating like a pig, your face shiny from the perspiration but you were determined not to give up. It was for your own benefit, your own health and if you worked on yourself, you could carry the triplets and carry the groceries - you could become a physically acclaimed superwoman!

“Make sure to straighten your back when you do the plank!” shouted Junho over the loud music just when he walked by you. Stopping, he crouched down and placed his hand first between your shoulder blades. “Keep it straight for me,” he told you and then both of his hands landed on your hips, making you go stiff under his touch. “Hips square to the mat. Make sure to squeeze your abs to keep your core strong and balanced,” he was telling in a hushed tone that felt weirdly intimate to you.

“I don’t have abs,” you heaved out, your arms shaking as you tried to keep the plank straight and correct. Junho huffed a laugh, standing up. “Well, you're doing great anyway!”

Feeling the relief when you saw him walk away, you heaved out a heavy sigh, focusing on being in the moment and imagining becoming strong; for yourself. For the babies. For Baekhyun. You could do it-

There was a distant shout calling out for your name. Recognizing the voice of Mrs Lee, you almost fell face-first on the ground from panic when you registered her words.

“Jun wouldn’t stop throwing up!”

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

A/N: Second chapter - done! But Jun :( What do you think about Junho? And Baek was busy, oh well...

Your feedback for the first part was SO NICE! Thank you to everyone who took the time to write me a comment in any form. Its so, so appreciated!

See you soon!

P.S. some people took notice AND pointed it out (which made me feel so happyyy!) that Baekhyun and OC seem to talk a lot in oppa/younger girl reference. That stems deeply from the prequel times when OC referred to him only as oppa (no, referring to Baekhyun - or any older male that is not too old, and the situation allows it - as oppa is not wrong as everyone is portraying it out in the "weirded out" culture. Baekhyun is older than OC and now it became a small game for him; after all, he loves that she is younger and he can take care of her and with the addition of triplets, he wants to embrace this a little more. Also, bear in mind they are both quite young!). So when I get to write the prequel, it will only be their oppa/younger-girl relationship! ^^ (which is why also in Captain Bucheon Lee Nari refers to Baekhyun’s character as oppa - same reason).

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun au #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun #exo fluff #exo angst #exo smut #exo fanfiction #mywritings #AY #pregnancy au #family au

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twstdreams · 4 years

Note

I've loved your non-romantic/platonic content that you've done so far! Adding on to that list, could I please request a short story surrounding MC, Ace, and Deuce? An accident occurs which ends in MC turning into a little kid and now it's up to the two boys to put their differences aside and babysit their friend until she's back to normal. Girl pronouns plz! Lol I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue. If you don't feel comfortable with this ask you can skip it! Thx for reading :)

I am always up for platonic content and shenanigans! Long story, so the rest is under the cut!

Warning: Minor spoilers for side stories (briefly alluded to)

Length: ~2.3K

“It’s this one!” Deuce declares with unfounded confidence.

“No, it’s not!” Ace rebuttals despite not making it past page 10 in his textbook.

“It’s mine!” Grimm shouts even though he most definitely does not understand the experiment at hand.

The magicless student can only sigh. Deuce and Ace suck at potions. So when the two bicker about what to add to their cauldron, the prefect doesn’t even blink an eye. Deuce mispronounces an ingredient, Ace corrects him, but neither are even talking about the right thing. She can practically sense Crewel’s glare despite her eyes remaining on the cauldron, cautiously waiting for bubbles to appear so she could add the indigo milk cap mushroom.

What is added next to her cauldron is not the mushroom in her hand but a random root Grimm throws in. In Deuce’s haste to catch the gremlin, he spills over his own cauldron and some of their potion spills into hers.

“What are you doing?” she asks, but it’s too late. The mixture in her cauldron is boiling profusely and suddenly envelopes her in a cloud of smoke.

“Funya! MC, are you okay?” Grim inquires. Deuce and Ace also call out her name but there is no response. When the smoke clears, everyone in the room is left speechless.

The potential beast tamer hasn’t moved but an inch but she’s at least two feet shorter and with rounder cheeks and wide eyes.

“WHAT?” she screeches in disbelief, suddenly too short to even reach the cauldron, “Fix this!”

And this is how the group’s long catastrophic day begins.

Adventure 1: The beginning

“What?!” Grim shouts. If looks could kill, Crewel’s glare would have toasted the monster.

“Yes, it is hard to predict when MC will return to normal because you carelessly threw together that potion. It should wear off in a day, but there’s no guarantee,” the teacher explains through gritted teeth. The bell rings but the quartet barely registers it.

“Go to the headmaster! It’s not my problem anymore,” Crewel declares.

Unfortunately, as most meetings with the headmaster are, the conversation is fruitless.

“Hah? We’re supposed to babysit her?” Ace asks.

“Yes! It’s your fault, is it not? Take care of her until the spell wears off,” Crowley declares.

“Isn’t there any way to break the spell?” Deuce inquires while nervously glancing towards MC.

“It’s hard to tell because you added in unknown amounts of various ingredients,” Crowley answers before muttering, “It takes too much time! I need to know what happens next in my novel.”

“Tch, what a lazy adult,” MC comments with a bored expression. She figured this would happen. She can’t even recall a moment when the headmaster had actually been helpful.

“What did you say?” Crowley demands. Deuce immediately picks up MC and heads for the door.

“Nothing! We’ll take care of her! See you later headmaster!” Ace explains while the two boys dash out of the office. They book it out of the hallway and then set her down on the ground.

“Hey! What was that about? It’s usually Grim saying stuff that gets us in trouble, not you,” Ace comments.

“Don’t tell me…Now she acts like a little kid too?” Deuce wonders.

Adventure 2: Stranger Danger

“Oh? Ramshackle prefect, you seem to be caught in quite the predicament.” MC glares at the Octavinelle dorm leader in return. Ace and Deuce are in the midst of calling Cater and Trey to ask for advice, giving Azul the perfect opportunity to approach her.

“I have an offer for you,” the second year begins.

“No.” MC is firm in her answer and has no intention of making any deals.

“Are you sure? I treat children well,” Azul adds but it only results in her frowning. There’s suddenly a glimmer in her eyes but before Azul can deduce what it means, MC begins shouting.

“STRANGER DANGER! STRANGER DANGER!”

“Stop that!” Azul insists but his wide eyes give away his flustered state. With a smile that looks a little too much like Chenya’s, MC continues her call for help. Soon enough, Deuce and Ace rush to her side.

“Stranger? That’s Prefect Azul! Have you forgotten him?” Deuce inquires with a look of concern. MC decides this is the perfect time to practice her puppy eyes and simply looks up at Deuce, wide eyes and with a pout.

Azul silently admits defeat as he forms a tight-lipped smile accompanied by some false pleasantries before exiting the area.

“I’m hungry!” she announces before anyone can question her further.

“Yes! Let’s go eat!” Grim agrees.

Adventure 3: Sweet Dreams

Getting lunch is a surprisingly painless affair. Though Night Raven College students could be quite self-centred, even they balked at harming a little girl. MC easily orders her favourites before sitting with her friends, though she has to sit on her knees to be at a comfortable height compared to the table.

“Wow! It’s true!~” Cater chimes while taking a seat at the table.

“How are you feeling?” Trey asks.

“Okay! It’s kinda weird but at least it was easy to get lunch,” she replies while taking a bite of her food.

“Now you really look like my minion!” Grim declares. MC shoots the monster a glare but doesn’t give him a response.

“You’re actually a little kid, huh? So, what do you wanna do when you grow up?” Ace teases.

“I want to control all the ghosts and have an army,” MC answers nonchalantly as if she had been discussing the weather.

“What?” Trey asks, slightly taken aback. Wasn’t this the person who was gullible enough to think that oyster sauce went in tarts?

“A ghost army,” she repeats confidently.

“Anyway! Aren’t you lucky? You get all these handsome guys to help you today!” Cater interjects, not wanting to unpack why the prefect wanted an army of the dead.

Her gaze scans the table before looking up at Cater, eyes wide and expression void of malice, and asks, “Where?”

Grim howls with laughter while the four Heartslabyul students try to recover from the blow to their ego. It’s definitely going to be a long day for them.

Adventure 4: Smiles and stares

“Hey wait!” MC whines. One disadvantage of becoming short is that her stride decreased accordingly, thus her struggles to keep up with her classmate’s pace.

“Just walk faster or we’ll be late for class!” Ace retorts, glancing up ahead to see how far away the next building is.

“AHH!” Ace turns around to see MC a couple of meters behind him face-first in a patch of grass.

“Uwah! Are you okay?” Grim asks while flying above the fallen girl. Ace groans at the predicament. Deuce ran ahead to warn the other teachers of MC’s unfortunate condition so the redhead was the only babysitter at the moment.

The situation only worsens when MC begins to sit up, knees scraped, eyes glistening with tears, brows furrowed, and lips pressed tightly together. Ace’s eyes widen at the sight.

“Please don’t cry,” he mutters under his breath before trying to think about how to soothe kids.

“Oh my, that was quite a fall. You’re okay now though, right?” Jade asks while extending a gloved hand. His face is calm, showing no signs of concerns or worry with only a placid smile to demonstrate any emotion. MC stares at his face, analyzing his expression for a few moments. After finding the answer to her unsaid question, she accepts his hand and quickly sniffles before nodding.

Ace watches in amazement as all signs of pain and panic vanish from her expression. He decides not to question her mood change before ushering the prefect to their next class.

Adventure 5: What came first? The egg or the chicken?

“You have to!” Deuce insists.

“NO!” MC shouts back, sitting firmly on the ground. Deuce is startled by the force of her words but stands his ground.

“It’s for your own good! Kids need exercise!” Or at least that’s what Cater told him before going to light music club.

“You can’t move me an inch!” MC retorts.

“I’m older, you should respect your seniors,” Deuce adds, doing his best to retain some level of patience.

“At least I know where chickens come from!” she rebuttals and Deuce feels at a loss for words. It is certainly not honour student behaviour to yell at a young girl but the first year is at his limits. He came to NRC to learn about magic, not dealing with children!

“Let’s play tag,” Jack suggests. Being the only one with little siblings, he is quickly enlisted to help. While disappointed in Deuce and Ace’s carelessness, he didn’t want to risk MC’s safety by leaving her in their care. Thus making him a reluctant member of the babysitting team.

“Tag?” MC echoes before a bright smile forms on her face. “Can it be teams?”

“Sure,” Jack agrees nonchalantly.

“Jack and I are on the same team! We get to chase Deuce and Ace!” she declares gleefully.

“Huh? I didn’t agree to this,” Ace interjects.

“We need even teams!” MC responds with puffed cheeks.

“Too bad, so sad!” Ace replies without remorse.

“This is our fault Ace. Plus we promised the headmaster to take care of her. As Heartslabyul students and men, we can’t go back on our words!” Deuce declares. Jack’s firm gaze and Deuce’s blazing spirit give little room for negotiation and Ace sighs in defeat. Ace really does hate alchemy class from the bottom of his heart.

Adventure 6: Idiots, all of them

MC closes her eyes and enjoys the breeze while resting. Deuce and Jack had gone to the cafeteria to get drinks for everyone after several rounds of tag while Ace lay on the ground to catch his breath. It was quite entertaining to see the fastest first years engage in a game of tag and even more fun to watch Ace try to avoid his inevitable fate. Agile as he was, Ace couldn’t run fast enough to outdo Jack with his insane stamina and speed. She giggles at the memory.

“Bonjour petite princesse!” Rook looks down at the little girl with a shining smile. Her eyes snap open and follow the source of the cheerful voice.

“Isn’t it delightful to see a new side to your friends? Like escorting someone on their first dance, like watching a lazy lion transform into a beast for the sake of the hunt, like observing night flox bloom under a full moon!” Rook beams but MC merely shrugs in response.

“Yeah but I’ve also seen Ace fall off his broom, Deuce compliment plants, and Jack mistake onions for a chemical leak.”

“Oh? Is it not like having several princes tend to you?” he inquires.

She scrunches her nose in thought before replying, “If my prince got stuck in a tree and I had to go save him.”

“Dear me, and I thought you were une petite princesse mignonne [1]! Perhaps that was a misunderstanding,” Rook remarks though he doesn’t seem displeased with the discovery.

Adventure 7: Mandatory nap

“Let’s go to the infirmary,” Ace suggests, “MC needs a nap and it’s the closest building with beds.”

“I’m the one that needs a nap?” she asks while side-eyeing her tired friend.

“She hasn’t even run for 3 hours,” Jack comments.

“Kids need naps! Plus, who knows what the side-effects of the potion are?” Ace adds, “We shouldn’t take any chances with her health.”

“You do need proper sleep to grow strong!” Deuce concurs.

“Sure, sure,” she concedes. When they arrive at the infirmary, there is no staff in sight. Ace guides her to a bed with an expectant smile.

“Well, go to sleep now!” Ace announces.

“It doesn’t work like that. I’m not sleepy,” she responds.

“Just lie in bed and close your eyes!” Ace insists with a huff.

“Shut up. You’re so noisy,” a voice growls. Leona appears on the other side of a room divider. Jack lets out a sigh, disappointed but not surprised by his dorm leader.

“I was having such a nice nap and now I’m… hah?” His sentence trails off as he eyes the little girl before him.

“Well,” you launch into an explanation of what happened, Leona shooting a judgemental look towards Deuce and Ace midway, before concluding, “It should wear off by the end of the day.”

“Tch, what an annoyance. I’m going back to sleep, don’t be loud,” Leona warns before flopping back onto the bed.

“How do you fall asleep so fast?” MC inquires. Leona glares at her, lips pressed together to form a thin line, but he lets any threats die in his throat.

“It’s nap time. Count sheep like a good herbivore until you fall asleep,” he instructs before turning his back towards the group. More than she’d like to admit, her small body requires rest and what better excuse than this? Besides, it’s not like magical history homework was particularly appealing, so she plops onto the bed to rest.

“I’m exhausted. Taking care of kids is tiring,” Ace says before falling onto another bed.

“It’s been a long day. I’m glad MC is okay, though. Haaah…I’m sleepy,” Deuce murmurs before resting on a different bed. Jack doesn’t comment but quietly begins his homework while keeping watchful eye on the little girl, not that he’d admit it if asked.

Adventure 8: The End. For now, anyway

She stretches after waking up, pleased to find her body back to its normal size. Ace snores lightly, Deuce’s mouth is agape, and Leona is nowhere to be found.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jack asks.

“Yeah, I actually feel pretty good!” Their conversation awakens their friends.

“You’re finally back to normal! I’m relieved,” Deuce interjects.

“You’re a lot of work for a minion, ya know? You’re lucky I’m so great,” Grim comments.

“That was a pain! You owe me big time!” Ace adds. MC shakes her head and wonders if she has the greatest or most chaotic friends.

[1] une petite princesse mignonne = a cute little princess

#writing Rook and Deuce are hard #Rook is so extra #and Deuce's speech pattern is something I'm not used to #hope you enjoy #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #deuce spade #ace trappola #leona kingscholar #jack howl #rook hunt #cater diamond #trey clover #wow I cannot believe this is 2K

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

Text

(Prompts with boxes have been taken, highlighted have been written)

Requests for this card are closed, thank you to anyone who sent in requests! If you don’t want to see these you can block the tag #false bthb. As always shoot me an ask if you wanna be tagged in future stories, whether it be for bad things happen bingo or any of the other series, one shots or in general!

I’ve been picking at this particular request since early December as the person who requested it had a lot of details they wanted put in making the writing process a bit more challenging. As a disclaimer, note that the chapter is split between present time and the past; with Logan recalling things in his past in an attempt to make the details requested for the story flow better. I received this request from AO3.

General taglist: @im-an-anxious-wreck

Experimental Socialization

Summary: Logan was raised by the government to be nothing more than an experiment and a weapon, utilizing his unique abilities as a mutant. When he finally escapes things are much different than he imagined they’d be but thankfully finds others like him willing to help guide him right where he needs to be.(Happy Ending)

Warnings: allusions to abuse, physical punishment and human experimentation, tw for weapons and fire, panic attack. If there are more please let me know

Prompt; Not Used To Freedom (requested by AngstyEmoGal on AO3)

Ships: Intrulogical, Logan x Remus

WC: 3432

“You just gotta breathe, Logan. In four, hold seven, out eight remember? You’re doing great, just keep going.”

Logan felt himself slowly coming back to reality as his breathing evening out, the raw panic that had gripped his chest easing slightly as Virgili continued coaxing him through the exercise. He felt the other slowly rub up and down his arm in a slow, steady beat that helped ground him further in reality and he smiled up at his friend gratefully and nodded to let xem know he was okay. Gripping his knees as Virgil’s voice trailed off he squeezed his eyes shut tightly and let out one last calming breath.

“Thank you, Virgil. I-” He struggled to find words, gesturing flippantly in the air making Virgil grin.

“It’s okay. Take your time, L.”

Logan puffed his cheeks out in frustration, thoughts swirling too quickly for him to comprehend anything but the apprehensive fear he held for the plans Remus had made for them later that evening. “I am- not used to being outside. Given my history and the threat I pose as a potential compromise to our place of hiding I fail to understand Remus’ reasoning for going out when we could just as easily celebrate our relationship here.”

“Hm.” Virgil leaned back on xyr hands and looked up at the low ceiling of their underground paradise. “Can’t really see the stars from here, no matter how many stickers Princey finds and puts up it can't really be compared to the real thing.”

Logan had made the mistake of going on a tirade of space facts a few months into his stay in the hideout, Remus patiently listening to the extensive infodump of constellation facts and space physics and planetary rotation. Having a limited amount of books to entertain oneself with for extended periods of time meant memorizing entire books on one subject, which Logan had used all too happily as a figurative escape from his situation in the past until he had actually managed to escape when he was 16. Hearing Logan speak so passionately about the subject had apparently made his mind up that he was taking Logan outside for their first “official” date to view the stars, which had then landed Logan in his current state of panic as he realized that date was today and he was decidedly not ready for what might lay in store outside of safety of the hideout.

“I can stay close by if you want. I won’t spy or anything and Remus won’t have to know.” Logan looked over as his thoughts were interrupted by the offer, Virgil turning invisible and reappearing a couple seconds later to emphasize xyr point. Smiling Logan shook his head, knowing the other derived as much joy from going outside as Logan felt about going himself.

“Thank you for the offer though, you’re very kind.” Letting his thoughts drift again he idly wondered when Virgil had discovered xe could disappear and reappear at will and if xyr parents had tried to hide it before the government had found out. His own parents-

-----

“Logan?” A very small Logan turned at his mother’s voice, losing his concentration which made the hidden jar of Crofters fall from its suspended place in the air and smash to the floor. His parents hadn’t known he possessed any sort of powers, and even as small as he was he still understood the position he’d put them in if they ever found out. Fearfully his hands dropped to his sides as his mother covered her mouth in shock, tears rolling down her cheeks as she took a step back.

Men in suits and long coats were there just a few hours later, speaking in hushed voices while both of his parents cried and he was ushered out the door and into an unmarked car, quiet as he understood yelling and crying would do him no good now. What’s done was done, all he could do was be compliant and hope to be treated gently.

-----

The room suddenly brightening with a flickering light brought him back out of his thoughts, Roman entering with his signature bright flame held proudly in his hand. The image of him in his rather scrapped together Princely outfit posing subconsciously in the doorway was almost enough to make Logan roll his eyes but he didn’t want Virgil to think it was because of xem so he managed to restrain himself.

“My dearest brother has been pacing in the same spot for two hours now and I haven't been able to calm him down soooo I thought to check on our resident nerd.” Roman declared with his usual flare. Logan actually did roll his eyes this time but Virgil did as well so he figured it was fine.

“The ‘resident nerd’ is doing fine, Roman. Though it's concerning to hear Remus is nervous as well considering he’s the one who suggested the date.”

Roman waved his hand at Logan dismissively. “He’s just a sap- moreso than me surprisingly. He doesn’t want to do anything to put you in danger but he wants to do something nice, so he’s worried that’s all. Remus is an idiot but I trust him with my life; believe me when I say you have nothing to worry about except his terrible sense of humor.”

Logan merely hummed in response, staring at the way the flame moved around as Roman gestured with his words.

-----

He panted as he rolled out of the way of another flamethrower, singeing the tips of his hair in the process but he couldn’t afford to slow down enough to worry about that. Years of training with different fighting styles had earned him incredibly fast reflexes but a good portion of his accuracy in knowing where to step and when was owed to him working even harder to focus his powers. Thoughts from others constantly surrounded him on a regular basis, getting more and more prevalent the older he grew. Learning to block out the constant string of stimuli was a useful skill to keep him sane but learning to hone in on specific thoughts to predict actions was what had kept him alive.

He ducked below another bullet and brought up his leg in the same motion, kicking a throwing knife to the side and sending it to clatter harmlessly between one of his assailants feet. A twirl to the side and a tilt of the head let another bought of flame boil the air beside him while another knife just barely brushed his ear. The constant bang of bullets and roar of flames and whistling of knives was overwhelming and made the air so thick he could barely draw a breath and it was becoming a struggle to concentrate the way he needed to and-

A high pitched alarm sounded one, twice, three times- a blaring flash accompanying it that left him blinking painfully. His shoulders slumped as the barrage finally ended, another successful training day completed. He watched as everyone began putting their weapons away, laughing and congratulating each other, clapping themselves on the back and discussing whatever they had planned after this. No one even spared the thing they had been firing at seconds before a spare glance, save for the director of the branch, who took long steps forward to stand in front of him only to snap his fingers and motion forward no doubt to see him back to his room until dinner. Absorbing the sounds around him he drank in as much praise as he could that wasn’t his and would never be for him; people rarely congratulated weapons after all.

-----

“Is this where we all decided to hide today?” Logan looked up to see Patton sitting cross legged on one one of the beams in the ceiling, grinning happily down at them even as their fluffy ears twitched nervously and even fluffier tail whipped back and forth in agitation. They must have come back from trying to calm Remus as well, Logan mused; Patton had never done well being in the same room as Remus who tended to voice his thoughts abruptly and without much care to how they might sound to others which always managed to set Patton on edge no matter how hard they tried not to show it.

Patton was a rare mutant in that as opposed to being born with abnormal traits or abilities they had been a science experiment from the start- an effort to create super soldiers rather than stealing them away from families and training them. Even rarer was the fact that the DNA splicing had taken extraordinarily well by pure chance as Patton was born with a mutation that left their DNA incredibly malleable- a mutation that never would have been discovered had cellular manipulation not been the reason for them being in the experimental branch that they were. They had tried cloning Patton at first to see if their power could be duplicated but when that failed to work they began trying to combine them with different animals to see if desirable traits would come forward. By manipulating them on a physical and anatomical level they were able to change some parts of them to be more cat like, intending, Patton had guessed, to turn them into a kind of stealth soldier but they got away before they completed it, leaving them with heightened agility and surgically coaxed cat ears and a tail. They were only a child when the lab had done this but somehow they were never bitter, simply preferring to leave their past alone and embrace whatever future they could make- a trait Logan greatly admired them for even if their unending optimism could be somewhat grating at times.

“Did Janus brush your tail out Pat? It looks fluffier today.” Patton preened at Virgil's compliment, their tail beginning to wave in a more relaxed manner as their mind was distracted from whatever it was Remus had been ranting about.

“He did! He found a cat brush and got it for me so I could finally get the undercoat out!” Jumping down and landing lightly on their feet they posed a little and flashed another wide grin.

“Beautiful as always, Patton.” Roman said genuinely as he lowered his hand into a barrel to light up the paper scraps and wood in it for the night, the dim sunlight that had filtered through the grated having long since died. The home was a modified branch of a sewer system, thankfully the part most removed from the city where it flowed without the stench and was sealed off inconspicuously enough that in the ten years Janus and Remus had been using it no worker had ever found it.

-----

It had been Janus and Remus who had found him, beaten and bloody from an escape attempt he had made just days before his real one. He had made a weak attempt to coax the scientists into a false sense of security, holding back the full scoop of his powers during training for a year in anticipation for his final escape. He had punished severely but had simply thrown him in his regular cell, assuming he wasn’t strong enough to do any more damage than they had seen him do already and trusting that they had beaten him down enough that it would be a while before he tried again- if he ever did. Not six days later the mangled metal of the front of his cell was tossed into a group of guards, walls torn apart in a straight line to the exit and the huge buzzing gates leading to the outside world thrown open wide and stuck there with varying amounts of heavy debris.

The outside world, as it turns out, was a lot bigger and louder and downright terrifying when you weren’t being sent out as a personal assassin or field missions or training sessions- all controlled on some level to keep him from being killed and compromised. Without the begrudged protection from the labs and moreover having to hide from said lab was another story entirely. The times they searched for him and how closely they came to his spots were random and made it incredibly hard for him to pick out their thoughts from anyone else’s in the city and figure out how close they were. On more than one occasion they passed right by him crouched under piles of garbage or laying low under a hedge, his breath held as he tried desperately to keep himself as still and quiet as possible, thoughts of what they would to him once they found him pounding against his head and making him squeeze his eyes shut to keep his terrified tears from falling.

That was how Remus had found him. It had been dark and hours had passed since the searchers had left that park he had been hiding in. He had still been hiccuping down his sobs as he rolled out from under the hedge that he hadn’t bothered to scope the area for anyone’s close by thoughts, having shut out as much as he could after they had left to try and block out any other hate fueled thoughts that may send him spiraling again. His heart had leapt in his throat so high his breath caught painfully, immediately shifting to offense as he tensed, ready to fight as long and hard as he could. He couldn’t go back- he wouldn’t. No matter what they did or promised him or punished him with; he’d go down fighting or not at all.

But Remus had only raised his hands in the air in a motion of peace, eyes widening as he locked onto the government issued bracelet that marked him as an experimental mutant. He had grinned impossibly wide then Logan remembered, briefly disappearing from his sight and reappearing a moment later, setting him even more on edge but curious nonetheless.

“I’m like you.” Remus had said quietly. “Basically I run real fast and the government hasn’t figured out how to get me yet.”

Logan had watched as he jiggled his wrists a bit for emphasis, bare save for colored chords that he assumed didn’t associate him with any government branch since they didn’t look official.

“Are you okay?” Remus had asked next and mutely Logan nodded, unsure of how to react to this fellow mutant who had never been caught by any sort of lab, apparently living as free as one could when you were as different as they were. He stepped back as another man appeared behind him, Janus he later learned.

“Liar.” Janus had hissed, making Remus reach around and smack the back of his head.

“It was a polite thing to ask that he tried to dismiss Jan. Let the adults speak for a second.”

Logan had noted the faint pout on Janus’ face though he was still trying very hard to look intimidating. And then all at once his eyes had turned cold as his attention was once again focused on Logan, glaring menacingly from beneath a black bowler hat. “I’m younger than you and yet I’m the one that has to put my foot down. He’s being chased clearly; we are not bringing him back with us.”

Remus has turned, Logan seemingly forgotten for the moment. “That’s not how it works! He needs help and we’re not leaving him to starve or be found in the middle of a park! What would Patton say?”

“Patton is a soft fool who needs to figure out where their morals stand. I myself am choosing not to compromise our place of hiding and three other people that you know those power hungry idiots would love nothing more than to get their hands on!”

Remus rolled his eyes so hard his head had lolled with it, face going pale as he watched something in the sky. It was then that Logan heard the telling sound of a helicopter flying low and getting closer but he had barely tensed before he found himself gripped around the middle and held vertically with the ground flying underneath him. They stopped abruptly and he was set down, blinking in rapid confusion as Remus grinned sheepishly at him.

“Welcome to the hideout?”

Logan’s eyes had widened and his breath had caught yet again, chest tightening as he shook his head vehemently. “You can’t- I need to go back! They’ll do anything to get me back-!”

He was stopped from going forward with a finger to his chest, his blue eyes locking with beautiful brown as Remus held his gaze. “And we will do everything to keep you safe.”

Safe. With that one word Logan was his. He hadn’t known why and he still didn’t quite understand it but he had trusted Remus with everything he had- and he still did. Even as Janus had stalked off grumbling and Virgil and Roman had kept their distance at first Remus had kept him close and showed him how much better his life could be, even if they were living in a modified sewer system.

Back in the present he looked up as a hand was thrust under his chin, smiling softly as he took Remus’ hand and let himself be led away from the others’ idle chatter. He counted himself extremely lucky in the end that Janus had eventually come around to him, seeing how happy he made Remus and how Remus made Logan feel it had been him to finally talk to Logan about it and get the two to officially talk about how they felt, going on about the being “hopeless gay idiots” when they had finally started to date officially. Logan wasn’t sure what he’d do without Remus at this point, just a year later and he was so attached to their small group of hideaways he wouldn’t trade for the world.

They approached the exit to the sewers, Remus swinging their hands between them. Logan held his breath right before they crossed the threshold, closing his eyes and letting it out slowly as his feet met grass and he opened his eyes to the darkened field. There were a few tunnels that lead out to different places depending on where they needed to go and this, Remus had told him, was his favorite because of how empty it was. The city lay far in the distance so there was almost no light pollution to block out the sky. Soft grass and flowers brushed his ankles as he scanned the area carefully, seeing nothing but trees lining the far end of the field with a road so far away he could barely, make it out in the darkness. Remus tugged his hand softly to get his attention, searching his eyes for any hint of discomfort.

“Is this okay?’

Logan took another breath and let it out, the last of his nerves fading away as he took in the quiet. “It’s perfect Remus.”

The other grinned and tugged a little harder this time, walking fast to the middle of the field where he stopped suddenly and raised Logan’s arm up to lead him into an impromptu twirl. Logan laughed quietly and then louder as he was dipped, secure in Remus’ strong hold as he reached up to grip the back of his neck. He was safe. He was free and safe and happy finally with someone who truly loved and cared for him. His breath caught in his throat again but this time in awe, Remus chuckling as he was laid down carefully tucked into his side, till with his arms around his neck.

The stars shone bright and winked lazily while swirls of color dusted faintly behind them. The moon was waning, a barely there light that let the beauty behind it show fully as the wind whisked away any clouds that dared to try and cover it. It was everything Logan had ever hoped it would be and more, excitement thrumming through him as he squeezed Remus tightly in an attempt to convey it. He felt Remus grin against his scalp where his face was buried in his hair.

“It’s beautiful isn't it?”

Logan looked back at him, light from the stars reflected in his eyes and wild brown hair framing his face. He leaned up slightly and kissed him, a faint brush of their lips that left them both grinning like the idiots they were. Placing a hand on Remus’ cheek Logan smiled at him, thumb brushing over his cheek in adoration.

“Absolutely stunning.”

This work and others are also available on AO3!

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yoonjinkooked · 4 years

Text

Kitchen Confidential | Jin (2)

banner: @casuallyimagining

PART 2

PART 1

Pairing: Seokjin / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Enemies to lovers, chef AU

Warnings: slow burn with explicit sex later, cursing

Word Count: 5k+ (Part 1 - 5k+) Summary: After years of annoying the life out of you, your rival, Kim Seokjin, pushes you a step too far and he knows it. As angry and resentful as you are, you don’t realize that something has been brewing under the surface for years. This weekend, that will change.

Last night was not nearly as bad as you had thought it would be. The drive to the lake was long, but you were carpooling with Jungkook, so it wasn’t dull for a single moment. Getting there in the late afternoon, all you’ve had time for was dinner and drinks. A dinner which you did not make, for a change. With every single staff member of both respective restaurants, it was very easy to avoid Seokjin – not like he was looking for you either. Drinking wine and reminiscing your school days with Jungkook, Taehyung and Yoongi took the bigger part of your night and made time fly. For a few hours, you thought this weekend teambuilding getaway might not be so bad after all.

That changed this morning at ass crack of dawn, when Namjoon knocked on your door to wake you up and give you a schedule for today. As you read through all the activities listed, your eyes still sleep crusted, you have realized that today was going to be torturous.

“You have got to be shitting me.”

You have tried, you truly did. Kept an open mind and all of that, ready to put your best foot forward and do what is best for your team. But 10 minutes into the group meditation, you’ve had enough.

“Shush,” Mina hisses at you from your left side, her eyes closed. “You’re making me lose focus.”

“Don’t you think you’re losing focus because there are 15 other people in the room pretending not to hear each other breathe? This is ridiculous,” you sigh, but still keep your voice fairly low when talking because you don’t want to make anyone else lose focus. Meditation requires peace and doing it with a bunch of people kind of kills the point.

“Come on Y/N,” Jimin chuckles from your right. “Don’t you want to become one with your team?”

“You will become one with my fist if you don’t shut it,” you whisper back.

“I will sauté both of your asses if you don’t zip it,” Jeongguk warns from in front of you, obviously annoyed by your bickering. “The sooner you shut up, the sooner this shit will be over and we can go outside and grab a damn beer.”

“Please remain quiet!”

You lower your head in shame – as ridiculous as it is, you did not want to piss of the instructor or whatever the hell she is. Judging by the glare directed towards you, you did just that. So, you close your eyes and shut up and let your mind wander over nothing and everything all at once.

With fall around the corner, you’re going to have to update your menu. Seasonal menus are a joy to work on, giving you an option to rebrand everything every couple of months. With all the fresh fall produce you’re going to have at your disposal, the next few weeks are going to be a lot of fun.

Your tricked worked – you were still on the appetizers by the time meditation was over.

“Remind me to never listen to him again,” Yoongi cracks open a beer as he sits down on the grass between you and Jeongguk, with Jimin and Hoseok following him. He has been complaining about Namjoon ever since you guys left the hall where the group meditation took place. “I’m all for teamwork and shit but how the hell is group meditation going to help with that?”

“You know how these things work,” Hoseok shrugs. “Someone makes a plan, sells it as an experience that will unify your team and most people don’t ask questions. Meditation is good, but it has zero to do with teamwork.”

“Paintball makes more sense,” Yoongi mumbles, pausing to sip his beer. “Sure, it’s an unusual choice but if we work in teams, which we obviously will, at least we get to exercise teamwork.”

“Or violence,” Jeongguk chuckles. “If I were Seokjin, I wouldn’t want to be around Y/N with a gun.”

“Easy there, you moron,” you hit him over the shoulder. “Just because I am angry doesn’t mean I’ll turn to violence.”

“What, you’re going to spare him?” Jimin laughs and your eyes narrow at him, remembering that he is on the opposite team. Sure, you don’t know how you’re going to be divided in the actual game but he is one of Seokjin’s best friends. The same way Jeongguk would come running to you with information, you can imagine Jimin doing the same for Seokjin.

“Oh, if he’s on the opposite team, he’s going down,” you sound sure of yourself, which may or may not be a result of having a best friend who is an adrenaline junkie. Despite it not being your thing as much as it his, you’ve accompanied Jeongguk on many paintball, bungee jumping and zip line adventures.

“Here’s to Seokjin’s balls and whatever will be left of them later,” Yoongi raises his can of beer.

“Here, here!”

It is a disaster, a complete and total disaster and the only reason why it’s like this is because Namjoon refused to listen. Taehyung and Jeongguk, who were chosen as team leaders, both tried to explain to him that it would be best if we go restaurant against restaurant but the man did not listen.

And that ended in pure and utter betrayal left and right.

Hoseok, who was on Taehyung’s team, straight up shot Catnip’s waiter, who was on the same team as he was. Jimin, who was supposedly on your side, ended up chasing you for god knows how long before Jeongguk shot him, sacrificing his own team member for your sake. Poor Mina didn’t even bother trying as she stood behind Namjoon, who was standing in the middle of an empty field and yelling at you all to at least try to be loyal to your temporary teams. Someone shot him in the shoulder, and although you have no proof of this, you have a feeling that it was Yoongi.

And you? You were out for blood, specifically Kim Seokjin’s blood. Once Jeongguk got Jimin of your back and the two of them started yelling at each other, you were free to run and chase after that all, wide-shouldered son of a bitch.

You could see him from a mile away – it was tunnel vision, with you blatantly ignoring both your team members and your opponents as you run through the woods, hoping to catch up with him. None of it made sense anymore anyways, with no one even being sure which team they are actually on, despite the blue and red vests that were supposed to differentiate you.

You were not even close to him when the inevitable happens – with your eyesight solely on him, barely registering your surroundings, you trip and fall into a ditch – an actual ditch, meant to be a hideout. And it was, to one of the commis chefs who was on your team by vest, on Seokjin’s team in reality. You ended up rolling into the ditch and falling on top of the poor guy, hurting your ankle in the process.

It hurt, it really did – the only reason you did not wail is because you didn’t want that bastard to hear you. You found the little dignity you had left and you grab a hold of your injured ankle with all the strength you have.

“Are you okay?” the guy asks you once he finally managed to move around and free himself from the weight of your entire body.

“No,” you shake your head. “Are you?”

“I’ll live,” he sighs. “Let’s get you some help.”

Bless him, he truly is a sweetheart. Even though you obviously didn’t fall on him on purpose, he still could have gotten pissed. He did not hold it against you – in fact, he helped you get up and once he realized your right ankle is the source of your troubles, he let you lean on him as he struggled to get the both of you out of the ditch. One minute that felt like an eternity had passed with the two of you still struggling to get up before someone in a blue vest showed up.

Of course. It just had to be him. Out of all the people around you, it had to be him.

“Are you okay?” he asks and before either one of you could answer, he was diving down, offering you a hand. The last thing you wanted to do was to accept his offer but with the way you and the boy have been struggling for the past few minutes, you knew that you did not have much of an option.

You don’t answer his question but you do take his hand and you let him drag you up from the ditch, with his commis chef pushing you from behind. The moment you stood up, you realize that you can’t do that – your right ankle cannot handle the pressure of your body weight. You flinch and crouch down, with Seokjin trying to keep a hold of you – it doesn’t work but it does annoy you. With how close he is, you can smell the cologne he uses.

It’s ridiculous. How can one smell good after running in protective gear for half an hour? How?!

“What happened here?” he asks you as you give up on everything and simply sit on the ground, bending your leg so that you can try and take your shoe off to see if there is any visible damage.

“What the hell does it look like – I fell!” you snap at him in annoyance, taking a deep breath while you remind yourself that even though he’s an ass, he’s not the one to blame for this. “Thanks for your help, you can leave now.”

“Do you need me to carry you back or-?”

“Go away before I shoot you,” you are tempted to throw your shoe at him but you hold back the urge. “The game is still going on, I have a gun and I’m pretty sure that a paintball shot at close range will hurt like hell. Just leave.”

You can see the annoyance on his face as he gives up on you completely. He walks away, leaving you with a very confused guy who by now must be feeling very uncomfortable. “I’m going to go get some help,” he tells you and you nod – his help you are ready to accept.

“Fucking hell,” you examine your ankle for the hundredth time, shocked by how bloated it has gotten. The hotel doctor has assured you that there is no fracture but he also promised that you will be in pain for the next few days. Being bedridden for the rest of the trip didn’t seem like a bad idea but come Monday, you’ll have to be in the kitchen again and you don’t know if you’ll even be able to stand.

“Does it hurt?” Mina asks, looking slightly appalled at the sight of your swollen leg.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to work next week.”

“I’m going to get you more ice,” Jeongguk sighs, looking at you in worry. “You’re going to rest that leg as much as possible. I’ll keep you company and we can watch a movie or something, but you’re not leaving this room,” he orders. Not that you needed someone to tell you that. It’s a perfect excuse to avoid Namjoon and his hippy movement, as well as Seokjin and his stupid face.

“I’ll be here,” Mina reassures him and with one final look of worry, Jeongguk leaves the room. Two seconds of silence later, Mina snaps back to life and turns to you. “Y/N, I need to ask you something.”

“Huh?”

“I need you to do me a favor,” she tells you, looking back to the door, as if she is expecting someone to burst through it in the middle of her telling you some state secret. “Can you please make Jeongguk join us tonight? Like… tell him to not stay with you? If you’re okay with being alone, of course,” she backtracks almost immediately as she realizes that you might actually need someone to keep you company. “Ugh, just forget I said anything,” she shakes her head.

“Mina, chill,” you chuckle. “I hurt my leg, I’m not dying. I can be alone. But… why?”

You can guess, but you still want to hear it from her. It’s pretty common knowledge that Mina has a crush on Jeongguk, and after all this time, you are pretty sure that Jeongguk has noticed it too. He’s not always the brightest cookie in the box, especially not when it comes to women and their subtle flirtation tricks, but Mina has been getting more and more obvious lately.

“I just want to talk to him one on one,” she sighs, looking at you like a kicked puppy. “He’s not going to figure out anything on his own, he’s dumb. I have to draw it and explain it and if that’s what it takes, that’s what I want to do. I’ll never have a better chance than tonight.”

“Not a problem,” you smile at her, willing to help. “I’ll just tell him to join you guys because I want to get some sleep. He’ll listen to me. But hun, it wouldn’t be fair of me to not warn you. Jeongguk is not a passive guy. He can be dumb but if he’s into someone, he won’t hesitate to make a move. If he hasn’t made a move yet, it’s likely that he doesn’t see you that way.”

You feel horrible, but you have to warn her. Jeongguk is a go getter by nature and you’ve seen him not hesitating with women ever since you could remember. Yeah, he’s dumb but he’s not that dumb. You don’t want to see Mina get her hopes up and then have them crashing down because he’s not into her.

“I know,” she sighs. “I also know he’s still a bit hung up on his ex,” you shiver, annoyed at the very mention of that bitch. Mina would have been a much better choice than any of his exes, if you’re being honest. “But I need it over and done with, one way or another. I will tell him I’m into him and he’ll either reciprocate or he won’t. By the end of the night, I’ll either write a new chapter or close the book.”

“Then go for it,” you encourage her. “Get your closure. I’ll kick him out as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” you let her hug you, even though she leaned on your injured leg a bit too much.

Kicking Jeongguk out was more of a challenge than you had originally expected. Being an amazing friend that he is, he just didn’t want to leave you alone and miserable, not to mention unable to walk. You had to insist multiple times that you want to be alone, that you will not move around unless it was absolutely necessary and that you will call him if you need his help.

Once alone, you were left with a bad selection of movies and thoughts about the telenovela going on downstairs. Mina and Jeongguk would truly make a good couple, you think. But Jeongguk… he is hard to predict. You can only hope that whatever happens, it doesn’t end in tears.

Halfway through a pathetic Lifetime Christmas movie and two steps away from sleep, a knock on your door rouses you from your daze. “Come in,” you call.

You expected Jeongguk, maybe Mina, coming to inform you of what had happened. Maybe Namjoon, who would be worried sick about whether or not you’ll be able to do your job in the days to come. Hoseok even, coming to check on his friend. The last person you had expected to see was Kim Seokjin.

“What are you doing here?” you’re too surprised to sound defensive.

“Hi,” he lifts his hand up in an awkward wave. “I just… I wanted to check and see how you were doing. And bring you some food,” it’s only then that you notice that he does have a plate of food in his hands.

“Is it poisoned?” you ask, and although you were joking, it wouldn’t be the first time that Kim Seokjin added a bit extra into your food. Before, he’d go overboard on spices and serve the food to you with an angelic smile. After the events of the past few days, you wouldn’t be surprised if he raised the stakes.

“I did not poison your food, Y/N,” he tells you and you notice that there is no humor in his words. Normally, when you accuse him of doing something you definitely won’t like, he teases and pretends you’re right, whether or not he actually did it. Now, he is as serious as you are. Another instance of him showing you that he knows he took it too far. “It’s atrocious, though. I hate hotel food.”

“Ugh,” you scrunch your nose in disgust, almost tasting the overcooked scrambled eggs that you’ve had this morning. Last night’s dinner was passable but this is not a fine dining location, that’s for sure. “What did you bring? Does it have any-“

“Peanuts? No, I checked,” he pipes up. You are left dumbfounded for a moment, wondering how his memory is good enough to remember your allergy. “How do you go about being an executive chef if you can’t eat a certain kind of food though?” he asks as he approaches your bed, handing you the plate of food. Steak, asparagus and mashed potatoes. One look at the steak is enough for you to know it’s most certainly going to be too well done. Seokjin moves away from you, choosing to lean on the wall as he waits for your answer. Well, it looks like you’re on talking terms now.

“It’s not that bad,” you tell him as you start cutting the food. “Worst reaction I ever had was a strong rash. I carry an epipen with me at all times and if something that has peanuts in it needs tasting, Jeongguk gets a go at it.”

“You trust him a lot, don’t you?” he asks, making you stop mid-chew.

“Of course I do,” you mumble with your mouth full. “He’s my best friend and my sous chef. He’s been my second in command for years, I’d trust him with my life. Don’t you feel the same about Jimin?” you ask, wondering if the friendship between them doesn’t run as deep as yours with Jeongguk, because you weren’t kidding – the dude has his moments, but you would trust him with your life.

“Of course I do,” he frowns at you. “It’s just that you and Jeongguk look like… two piece of a whole.”

“We are, we’re Dumb and Dumber,” you laugh, turning back to the food – at least the asparagus was grilled nicely.

“Are the two of you like… a thing?”

If your mouth was full, you would have chocked, without a doubt. Looking up at Seokjin, you find him looking away from you, almost bashfully. First he brings you food. Then he starts a civil conversation. And now he’s questioning your relationship with Jeongguk?!

“No, we’re not. Never were. Well, other than two days sophomore year, that is. But we realized quickly one of us would be murdered in cold blood if we upgrade from the friendship level,” you rant, wondering how it’s possible that you’ve actually forgot about having Jeongguk’s dick inside of you, once upon a time. In your mind, it just goes to show how your friendship truly is superior. “Wait, why are you even asking me that?”

“I’m just… trying to be friendly.”

“I’m sorry, but you being talkative and friendly is making me uneasy,” you tell him the truth. The last time the two of you have had a civil conversation… it was so long ago, you don’t even remember it. Was it freshman or sophomore year? And even back then, you never went past casual chit chat. With everything that has been happening recently, Seokjin being friendly is a huge red flag.

Whether it was malicious or not, it has become second nature for you to expect the worst from him. And in a very strange way, that is actually quite sad. A person who could have been a great friend or even just a colleague you enjoy working with, ended up being someone who annoyed you. Yes, at the beginning, it was funny, charming in a weird way too. It didn’t take long for it to turn sour and with the events from last week hanging above you, as much as you want to see the good side of your longtime rival, you just… can’t.

“I understand that you don’t want to be friends or anything like that,” he shakes his head and looks down at the ground, almost as if he’s frustrated with you but is too kind to show it. That has nothing to do with kindness because in your eyes, he’s holding back because he know he has messed up, big time. If you ever did something to him that could be considered mean, which you did not, it simply pales in comparison to him flat out stealing your recipe. “If I apologize as Seokjin to Y/N, you won’t listen,” it feels as if he’s talking to himself as he continues to avoid looking your way. “The only option I have is to apologize as a chef to another chef. You have every right to be angry with me. The recipe was not different enough for it to be considered my own creation. Had I known it would end up in the review, I never would have done it. But even if it did not, I shouldn’t have done it. And whether you can accept it or not, I truly am sorry.”

You don’t know him well enough to be certain whether his words are true or not, but he looks as if he is truly sorry. And while that definitely counts for something, it’s not enough, not really.

“I forgive you,” you sigh, choosing to move one lone asparagus around your plate instead of looking his way. “As long as it never happens again, I am willing to put it behind us. But that doesn’t change the humiliation I felt when I read that review,” finally, you muster the courage to look up at him, just in time to catch him swallowing a lump. “I can accept that you had no ill intent, but I have never felt more humiliated than I did the day that I read about someone else making my dish better than I did. And that’s not your fault. You’re a brilliant chef. That’s entirely on me.”

“Y/N, you know you’re an amazing chef, you know that…”

“I know,” you interrupt him, not exactly wanting to listen to him praising you. “I know I’m good. I don’t need your reassurance to be aware of that, but thank you anyways. I accept your apology and I’m willing to be cordial to you, if you can do the same thing. That being said… we’re not friends, Seokjin. We never were, you’ve made sure of that a long time ago.”

He looks dejected, and for a second, you feel like a bitch. You feel bad for not picking your words carefully, you feel bad that you’re the cause of the sad smile he offers you. The guilt doesn’t stay long, because as soon as you feel it, you remember the way you felt when you read that review. As much as you can forgive, your ego and self-respect will not let you forget.

“That’s okay,” he tells you, despite actually looking sad. It leaves you baffled because you can’t recall, not for the life of you, a time where he ever offered a friendly word or a helping hand. You know there were moments, you’re sure of it, but no matter how hard to try, none of them comes to mind. “I’m fine with it being a truce and not a friendship.”

“Okay,” you nod, wondering if you’ve ever felt this awkward in your entire life. There’s a fine line between being cold and plain rude and you feel as if you’ve walked very close to the wrong side of it. “Thank you for the food, that was very nice of you,” you add, wanting to at least appreciate the gesture.

“Don’t mention it. Have a good night, Y/N,” he says, giving you one final, small smile before turning around and heading towards the door. His hand is already on the doorknob when you speak up.

“Hey, I have a question,” it’s almost as if you had no control over the words that left your mouth. It’s too late to take them back now, because he turned around and is looking at you curiously. “Why?” you ask, feeling a complete idiot with asking him something so damn vague.

“Why did I make that dish?” he asks in confusion.

“No,” you shake your head, making an effort to sit up straighter, knowing you’ll be able to see him better from this angle, seeing as he’s still standing in the hallway. “You made the dish because it’s a damn good dish,” you say through a chuckle, feeling a little bit better about yourself when you see him grin and shake his head at your comment. “I’m just wondering how it got to this level of animosity between us. I can’t pinpoint when it started but at some point you took the regular teasing and jokes and just made it… too much. And I don’t really understand why.”

You normally didn’t think about it. You have a life, a job, a whole load of problems and your friends’ problems to take care of. You don’t spend your days wondering why Kim Seokjin could be such an ass sometimes. Now you are. Now, when you’re stuck here on the bed, unable to move because of your damn leg, you have more than enough time to wonder about his behavior. And with him being in your company, it’s easy to ask.

You’ve never seen Seokjin act this humble, shy even. Never before in your life, not even during the peaceful period between the two of you. You watch in amazement as his ears go red, him looking away from you and acting ashamed about you calling him out like this. You’re honestly baffled.

“I guess I just wanted to make you laugh.”

You’re too surprised to even come up with an adequate response. The middle school level pranks that turned into a full blow rivalry and competitiveness during your final years of school only to fully develop to straight up animosity in recent months? Because he wanted to make you laugh?

“Are you serious?” you ask, unsure if you should be angry or just stay confused. It makes zero sense.

“Sadly, I am,” he lets out a humorless chuckle. “I gotta get going. Enjoy your dinner, Y/N. Hope you recover fast,” he tells you and leaves without giving you a chance to say goodbye, although you’re not sure you’d been able to even say a single word. Staring at the wall in front of you, you are lost in thought when your door snaps open. Startled, you jump up, only to sigh in relief when you see it is Jeongguk.

“Did I hallucinate the whole thing or did Seokjin leave your room like a moment ago?”

“Nah, you didn’t,” you answer, still confused about the whole ordeal. “He brought me dinner.”

“You serious?” Jeongguk laughs as he plops down on the other side of your king size bed. “Your leg good?” he asks and you just nod, focusing back on moving around the sad little asparagus on your plate. “I guess tonight is just full of surprises. First Mina corners me to tell me she likes me, now Seokjin’s being nice… I swear there’s something in the water here.”

“Mina told you she likes you?” you ask, taking an opportunity to change the topic to something that isn’t about you. He nods, moving in to steal a piece of meat you’d cut up earlier. “What’d you say?”

“That I’m flattered but not interested,” he responds. Well, damn it. You can only hope Mina sticks to the mindset she had earlier: it doesn’t matter what the answer is, as long as her dilemma is over. “Don’t worry, I was very kind. She’s a friend for crying out loud, I’d never hurt her,” he adds, noticing the look of worry on your face.

“No, I know that,” you sigh, finally giving up on the food completely and leaning over to place the plate on your bedside table. “Why’d you say no? She’s a great girl. Smart, pretty, nice and hot. Full package.”

“She’s also a coworker,” he raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t shit where you eat. I’ll never have anything with someone I work with, I promise you that. Plus, I don’t feel that way. I adore the girl but not like that.”

“No, I get it,” you nod. “It’s better that you were honest with her. It’ll hurt like a bitch, seeing as she’s been hung up on you for a while. But it’s way better than dragging her along.”

“You knew?” he gasps at you.

“Of course I knew,” you roll your eyes, deciding to kick him in the shin with your healthy leg. He whined, even though you didn’t kick him hard at all. “I think everyone knew except you. She was heart eyes around you, 24/7.”

“Well, damn,” he sighs. “If I had known I would have said something to her, to stop her for wasting time on me… I guess it is what it is… So, what did Seokjin want, other than to feed you?”

“Feed me?” you snort. “At least someone remembered to bring me food, thank you very much”

“I was gonna,” he pouts at you.

“Sure you were,” you ignore his whines. “He wanted to apologize for the recipe theft. And I did forgive him for it. I’m still pissed and I’ll probably be pissed for a long while but it’s not going to change anything, is it? I’ll just drown in negativity and that review will still be there.”

“True. But it’s nice of him to apologize. Maybe even too nice,” he adds, suddenly frowning in suspicion.

“Oh god, you’re not going to believe what he told me,” you laugh, going back to the end of your awkward conversation with Seokjin. “I asked him why he did the things he did over the past years and his response was that he wanted to make me laugh.”

“To make you laugh?” Jeongguk asks with his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. I mean, I did laugh at the beginning, it was funny at first. Then it just… spiraled.”

“He wants to fuck you.”

“No,” you snort out, but the moment you see your best friend with his eyebrows raised, giving you a knowing look, you frown. “You think this was his version of ‘I like you so I’ll pull on your pigtails’?”

“I didn’t before but now I do,” he tells you with a shrug. “Honestly, that explains half the shit he did. If he’s not lying about doing it to make you laugh, he definitely has the hots for you. At least he did, back in school. That would also explain why Jimin teases him about you even when you can hear him.”

“You do have a point,” you mumble, remembering every damn time Jimin suggested that the two of you should fuck to solve your problems. Jimin is one of his closest friends, it’s not a stretch to think he knows something you don’t. “It sounds incredibly immature but also very Seokjin.”

“I know,” Jeongguk laughs. “You could recognize Mina’s behavior, I can recognize his. I’m honestly amazed that I did not figure it out sooner… I knew that it was an option but he never really gave me solid proof that my hunch isn’t wrong.”

“But it’s weird, isn’t it?” you ask, frowning at the thought. “Seokjin liking me? The two of us together?”

“Why would it be weird?” Jeongguk shrugs, as carefree as always. “He’s hot, you’re hot. You got along well before he pulled out his immature flirting tactics. Jimin might be onto something, with the two of you. Maybe you do need to fuck it out of your system,” he repeats the same words Jimin had used only a few days ago. Back then, it pissed you off. Now, they just confuse you.

“The guys hot, but his personality is shit,” you shake your head. “Not to mention that he failed to put two and two together when he did not make me laugh with the shit he pulled. Maybe he wanted something then but it’s too late for entertaining that option now.”

“If you say so,” your best friend laughs. “But if he’s suddenly acting this nice, maybe he wants to show you a side of him you might actually want to see.”

“You watch way too many romcoms.”

“And you don’t watch them enough,” he counters. “As smart as you are for some shit, you sometimes truly don’t see beyond what’s already in front of you. You’ll see it tomorrow. Now that it’s directly in front of you, you’ll start to realize that the dude just didn’t know how to flirt. Anyways, are you gonna eat your dinner or can I dig in?” he asks, looking at the plate of already cold food.

The man is an endless pit. “Knock yourself out,” you mumble, too last in your own thoughts.

Is this all your imagination or did Jeongguk have a point? If all he wanted was to try and flirt with you, Kim Seokjin is… dumb as fuck.

A/N: Hope you like it! Currently writing Part 3! Let me know what you guys think!

#jin smut #bts smut #jin scenario #bts scenario #jin x reader #jin x you #jin x y/n #jin au #bts au #jin fanfic #jin fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jin writing #glitter-kookiedough #glitterkookiedough

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luvdsc · 3 years

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Hey Cat!! I hope you're doing well as always ! 💖 AHHHH huhu I closed the form last Sunday since I've collected enough responses dy! (NOOOOOOOO ToT) I got a total of 221 responses at the end of the week, which is 3x the amount I initially needed! :o I'm beyond grateful and appreciative ToT I've cleaned the data and have proceeded to run some data analysis, but I ran into an issue whereby the scores on the subscales are equal (it has never been reported in past studies! :O) so I'm waiting for my supervisor's feedback on how to proceed. Hopefully it's nothing too serious ToT

Hehe finance is interesting indeed! I just started reading a book on finance for young adults (Rich Dad Poor Dad) and I look forward to learning more from the author's tips! The Coursera introductory course has also made financial terms a lil more familiar, even though it's just the basics and it's really helped w my financial literacy 🥺 I can push myself to study but it's also the numbers and calculations I'm worried of cuz I am rly a nong (idiot) when it comes to numbers * - * it runs in the genes I guess AHAHAHAHA my mom and sister aren't good at numbers either keke

Aww I'm glad yr professor made financial accounting enjoyable and a fruitful experience for you! Some lecturers / professors rly just have that spark in them to inspire ppl and I'm blessed to be surrounded by a bunch of em in the psych department!🥺😭 it truly makes a difference and I'm sure we both are living proofs of that!

After debating for a while, I've decided not to take a minor mainly because I'm so tired HAHAHAHAHAHA and I'll just do my own self-studying and exploration whilst working! Go out and explore the world, live life! Whilst ironically still staying in my room because of the COVID-19 situation in our country (cases are abt 20+k every day :') ) My proposal has been finalized and it's been accepted! It's just that some elements of my proposal is also part of my actual report, so I have some guidance to refer to in terms of structure! :3 and yes don't worry! I got plenty (sometimes a lil too much) rest during the sem break whilst remaining productive! Plus, I got to catch up w some friends and had game nights (maybe too much of game nights hehe) and movie nights w my friends which was truly refreshing! Also cuz I might not see a lot of them again after we graduate so we gotta cherish every moment 🥺😭

I'm a freelance graphic designer for my uni's newsletter! Occasionally, they'd ask us to create both the content and design! I'll place the link to my recent work below if you wanna check it out! UwU I'm trying to incorporate the same practices during sem break in my last sem (current sem) too! cuz yes mental health is so so important and I'm just tired of being academically tired you get me? :(

What makes me most trilled abt learning abt psychology is how to apply it in daily life too! I find it so fascinating and awestruck at how relatable and within reach these things are like wow we can be influenced in such ways?? :o can be both good and bad but imma stick w seeing it as the development and evolution of us humans UwU

Also, the vaccine has fixed my sleep schedule HEHE (another perk of getting vaccination :3) I got some rly good rest and managed to reset my usual sleeping time, thank you science ToT oooo I see I see, we've had cases of nurses injecting empty syringes hence the recording :( but GHIOGHWEOGIOHW I could never do that, I can feel the liquid entering me as it is so that's good enough ToT (* plays Love Talk * I can feel it coming)

OMG YOUR ART PIECES ARE SO BEAUTIFUL, ADORABLE AND ELEGANT! 💖🥺🥰 it must've required a lot of hard-work and effort AHHH thankiew for showing me yr work!! it's truly unique in its own manner despite it's simplicity UwU is there a reason or backstory to yr chosen theme and objects? :3

I just Googled Somi Somi and omg that's such an UwU ice cream AHHHH 💖🥺😭 ice cream is my fav food of all time and it looks like an ice cream haven omg imagine eating it after a loooong hard day's of work ToT and OMG THE SATISFACTION OF EATING THAI MILK TEA ICE CREAM ON A HOT DAY YASSS 😋🤤 hehe if you get the chance to try milk & biscoff, do try it! It's amazing !😍 and ooo i haven't tried alcoholic ice cream before but I will one day!! :3 my alcohol tolerance is rly low though, will I get tipsy over alcoholic ice cream? We shall see UwU (i can only drink half a bottle of apple cider before my face gets red and I start getting a lil tipsy + headache)

and lovie....knowing yr school schedule now...OURS IS DEFINTELY BRUTAL OMG a 3 month long sem break huhu that's only the total amount of sem breaks we get in a year ToT i thought uni was hard but not that hard ToT

Always glad and honored to have you onboard! and AHAHAHAH the contractions about to start soon 👀 I enjoy talking to you huhu you're such a sweet and supportive person 💖🥺🥰😙 huhu for my period cramps, I've been having them since I was 12 ToT my doctor prescribed me some panadols but sometimes I can't even swallow them cuz I'd puke them out ToT I've settled w heatpacks to reduce my reliance on medicine, but I finally got some upgraded and safe to eat medicine from my gynae! She said it's fine to take it every month to keep my womb healthy and apparently my ms. lil uterus is suffering from inflammation, hence the super crazy bedridden cramps :( the upgraded medicine worked for a while, but after time it kinda didn't help either :/ but I realised that exercise rly does wonders to reduce the cramp too (gynae also recommended exercising) so i take walks and do my back stretches more frequently now! my period in the previous months (2 months ago) have been almost painless and bearable, it's so weird not seeing my bedridden ._. when I was in high school, there would always be a day in every month in which I don't attend classes, and that's solely because of my cramps. It just isn't worth suffering in school, plus we don't have a sick room :/ I hope the pain continues to subside! ToT

And ayy internship is also working experience, yr advice would be of great help to me regardless! 🥺 oh yes, I always remind myself that interviews are similar to the speaking test I took for my Cambridge English exams! That kinda help calm my nerves down a lil, but w nerves comes bigger smiles, so I guess it takes on a rather practical form of coping mechanism (sublimation) AHAHAHAHA

WAAAA WHAT A QUEEN you got an offer from every interview?? I aspire to be like you! 💖🥺🥰 huhu skill wise I believe I have lots to prepare esp in terms of case studies, and I perform rly poorly on certain assessments (*ehem * esp those concerning numbers) so I took the chance to study a lil during sem break too ToT but noted on that! I will work on that too and try to maintain that me element in interviews and overall just be myself keke

That's all from me for now! Imma wait for my supervisor's feedback and journey on w my last semester. Bon voyage! Link to my recent work: https://www.instagram.com/p/CTBqGzjr6sN/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link Other works: https://www.instagram.com/p/CPpv-IyM7Gi/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link https://www.instagram.com/p/CL55EG-MbL2/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

hi hello honey bee !!! 💓 omg i'm so sorry for the belated response, i finally got on my laptop 😭 i'm gonna put my response under the cut since it got a little long 🤧

omg 221 responses !!!!! that's so many 🙀 congratulations aaaaa it's amazing that you were able to get 3x the data you needed !!! was it difficult to run data analysis? were you able to solve the issue with the equal scores on the subscales? i hope it didn't create too much additional work for you ):

omg yes finance is really interesting! i enjoyed the classes i took for it :') how is rich dad poor dad? did you learn a lot from it? i know it was a book my prof recommended, but i never got around to reading it 😶 did you learn any helpful tips? and ooo i'll have to look into coursera! yeah, there's quite a lot of terms for finance, and it can be a little intimidating paired with all the math formulas and such, but it's pretty useful imo! how are your financial studies going so far? 💕 omg nong is such a cute word?? i would never think it meant idiot asdkfhlkajsdf omg my whole family is good at numbers and really like math, but i didn't like it 😭 my mom made me study it a lot everyday though rip are the financial calculations getting easier for you as you practice more hopefully?

yessss omg i absolutely agree with this!!!! like you can just feel when a professor loves to teach and is genuinely so excited to talk about their subject, and it just makes the most boring horrible subject into something you learn to enjoy and hate less :') and i'm really happy to hear you have tons of professors like that in the psych department 🥺💗

that's great to hear!!!! 🌷🌷 i'm glad that you're prioritizing yourself and your health, which is so much more important than taking on a minor. what fun subjects have you decided to explore and self study so far? 💞 oh my gosh, the rising cases are so high?? i hope it's gotten better there for you ): are you able to go outside yet?

big congratulations on your proposal being finalized and accepted, lovebug !!!! 🥳🥳 i'm very proud of you and hoping one day i can read your published studies in a scientific journal :') aaaa i'm so glad to hear that you got to rest and enjoy your time with your friends!! i definitely feel that omg i regret all the times i skipped out on movie nights or game nights with my friends because now we're all scattered across the country and the only way we can have them again is over zoom calls 🤧

I SAW YOUR DESIGNS AND THEY'RE GORGEOUS OMG I LOVE THEM SO MUCH !!!! 💖 I'M IN AWE AAAA IF PSYCH DOESN'T WORK OUT, I HOPE YOU BECOME A GRAPHIC DESIGNER 🤩🤩💖 and yes i totally get it ): i really felt the academic burn out when i was in college and it was really difficult at times 🤧 but i hope it's going better for you nowadays, sweetpea 💝💝

omg yeah i absolutely agree !!!! whenever i read about psychology, i keep it in the back of my mind and then when i see something irl that relates to it, i'm like :O amazing. it's so cool to learn about different psych tricks too and see how it works when you test them out yourself and whatnot. and it's really crazy to see how the human brain is so easily influenced at times ??? it truly is an amazing subject !!!

ah what a great side benefit of the vaccine - a better sleep schedule 🤩 i'm happy to hear that your schedule has been fixed 💘 and omg what ??? they're injecting empty syringes wth ????? 😭 that's absolutely horrible, are they getting sued?? lmaooooo that love talk reference askdfhlaksjd

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR KIND COMPLIMENTS 😭😭💗💗 there were many late hours spent in the art studio to finish them, but i'm really happy with the end products :') i thought light bulbs are an interesting subject to do, and my prof said that cutting out circular objects or sculpting them is the most difficult since they're made up curves and not straight lines and i was like ok bet i'm gonna do it aND I'M SO GLAD I DID BECAUSE I REALLY LIKE THEM 🥺 and i love honey bees !!! that's why i decided to paint them and we were supposed to paint them in a combined style of two artists so i tried monet's impressionist style with the short brush strokes and pop art triptych style like marjorie strider 💕

somi somi is sooo good and i just had it again a couple weeks ago :') omg ice cream is your favorite food? :o and YES ice cream is so satisfying after a long day of hard work, like it's such a nice reward to look forward to at the end of day ✨ aaaaa i have to try thai milk tea ice cream one day now !!!!! it sounds amazing 🤩 and YES i must look for places that sell milk & biscoff ice cream !! i have milk ice cream from somi somi, but i need to try to combined flavors 💘 i don't think you'll get tipsy over it !!! it's a really faint taste of alcohol, like i didn't even notice it at first, and i don't think they put very much of it in there! aksljdfhals omg you're a lightweight :o at least that means you save money on alcohol LOL i need like nine shots to get drunk 🤧

your school is too hard 😭 you need more than just 3 months of break !!! 😡 we get a week off for thanksgiving in fall semester and a week off for spring break in spring semester too and then the month long winter break and three month summer break. and we have the one day holidays off too like labor day, memorial day, etc. i can't believe they give you so little time off after working so hard???

asdfhlkajshdlksja loool are the contractions over yet? has it been born? what's the current status, doctor? 👀 i really enjoy talking to you too !!! i'm very sorry for the late responses, work is really taking over all of my time, and i never have enough time to get on my laptop to reply to my asks 😭 and thank you for saying such kind things about me 🥺🥺💝 oh my gosh, i'm so sorry to hear that you have such terrible cramps 😭 i can't even imagine going through that - mine are nowhere near as horrible 😖 do the heatpads help a lot? i'm relieved to hear that you were prescribed better medication though! but yeah, your body does eventually get used to the medication and you have to continue taking stronger meds for it to work, but that's not a very healthy solution /: but i'm really glad to hear that exercise has been helping out a lot!! 💖 hurray for almost painless and bearable periods 🥳 i'm sorry to hear that you had to go through that in high school ): that sounds absolutely horrible 😭 periods are just awful, but it's like i'm grateful that i have my period because that means i'm not pregnant, but also please go away aslkhdfaklsj

omg what was the speaking test for the cambridge english exams like? :o it sounds so formal and a lil intimidating askdjfhalsd do you know of any psych tricks that can possibly help calm your nerves? :')

aaaa yes i did !! i was really surprised that i got an offer from them all because at the time, i was not in the right major and i think i was one of the most underqualified applicants 🤧 one person who interviewed me asked why i withdrew from my engr physics class and i explained it in a kinda funny way but in my head, i was like "oof i'm not gonna get this offer anymore" but then he laughed at my response and told me about how his prof told him he should drop a guitar class he was taking because he was doing very poorly and we bonded over that aklsjdhfkals omg how do interviews for psych jobs go? do you have to discuss a lot of case studies? do they give you a list of possible case studies they'll ask about? :o what sort of assessments do you have to do? good luck on all of your interviews, honey bee 💛 i'm rooting for you, you're gonna do amazing !!!! 💘

omg what did your supervisor say about your case study? and how is your last semester going? are you almost done now? 🌸 (also how have you been? what have you been up to? thank you for taking the time to leave such detailed messages for me, i'm really excited to see all the fun updates in your life, lovebug 🌷🌷)

#asks #jaeismytamtation

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wanderinglotus7 · 3 years

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I’M SICK

On wednesday I discovered it was National Eating Disorders Awareness Month. For someone who struggles with an ED and body image it almost slipped right past me. It doesn’t surprise me because my mind has been in an anxious and hazy fog lately. Other than that I had a breaking realization with the state of my bulimia. I’ve been feeling very disgusted with myself, I found myself immediately purging this week to feel “empty” or maybe the need to purge is more of a distraction from what’s really going on in my life. I know for sure this whole internship process is adding more stress in my life to the stress that is already present. At times I feel like I am losing control over my life. It’s sad that I have to schedule time in my days to do basic stuff like take a shower, nap, do something I love, or even take a moment (5 minutes) to be present (breathe).

What’s really bugging me is the narrative surrounding eating disorders. I’m tired of only seeing and hearing white images and voices. Its like the world is blind to the fact that EDs aren’t just a White female illness. Hello! Males and color folk can suffer from these issues. Granted, I am inspired by Demi Lovato for being so open with her struggles, but where are those individuals who look like me speaking their truth in the public. I rarely hear conversations of Black females being open with their struggles. If I do it’s associated with Body Positivity which isn’t bad. However, for some of us, we cannot reach Body Positivity until we learn to accept of ourselves and our bodies. Sometimes I feel like a fake because I am open with my body image and ED, I don’t really address the hatred and guilt I have towards myself. It’s a constant battle. And when I do express my experiences with bulimia and body image it gets treated like I am frustrated with dieting or making lifestyle changes. This is the type of message I felt like I was receiving when this topic came up in my therapy session. I felt like I was being misunderstood. Granted my therapist is a white woman, so talking about ED, body image, and being sexually objectified as a young Black woman she wont understand. Again...BODY IMAGE AND EATING DISORDERS DON’T ONLY EFFECT WHITE FEMALES! BLACK FEMALES STRUGGLE WITH THESE ISSUES TOO!

One thing I do appreciate when it comes to compliments from my boyfriend is that he doesn’t focus on my body first. The first thing he always states is how much he loves my smile which can really brighten my day especially when I am having a bad body image day. But on some occasions he has made some comments like saying “squishy” and “soft” that have made me feel even worse about myself. I do give him credit for trying to understand my issues. I appreciate his effort. But I do recognize the frustration he experiences sometimes when I begin to bash myself or deny/not accept his compliments. Once the ED voice begins to speak, I shut everyone out including myself. My illness can become crippling. For examples, I missed my sister’s birthday dinner because I didn’t like the idea of having to wear “real” clothes and the idea of eating around people freaked me out, I isolated myself in my room after looking at myself in the mirror for at least five minutes, I’ve cried and wanted to throw a brick at my mirror because I hated the way I looked in a t-shirt and shorts ( I was just going to Wal-Mart) and I deny myself of wearing clothes that I would like to wear because I am afraid of attracting attention to myself ( I don’t want people to notice that I am fat). My problem areas are my stomach and stretch marks. Uggg! How I despise my stomach! I wish it can disappear and never come back. And I wish it can be flatter. I would love to loose between 20 to 40 pounds.

My relationship with food is all fucked up, and I feel like people don’t understand this. Telling me I need to be more committed to exercising or making smarter food choices doesn’t register with my ED brain. To me it sounds like bullshit. Then I become frustrated and that’s when I shutdown all the outside noise and recede from life. Do you know how tiring it is to constantly be fixated on food? IT FREAKING SUCKS! I am soooo concerned about what types of food I’m going to eat, how much I’m going to eat, when I am going to eat, and how I am going to get rid of the food that I did eat for the day. Depending on my state of mind, I’m contemplating on ways to purge or restrict myself for the rest of the day or for the next day. I CAN’T NEVER WIN! And I am trying hard to overcome my poor body image and bulimia. Having a therapist is good, but when it comes to these issues group therapy is a better route for me. I feel less alone if that makes sense. I really hope I don’t pass these issues to any of my future children if I ever have a child or children in the future ( I don’t want them to suffer).

I’m still receiving treatment for my problems. And know this isn’t gonna be resolved within a year or two. It’s going to be a rough and long process. I hope whoever reads this finds some allyship from my story. We are good enough! Above everything else, we are good enough for ourselves, and we are worthy of love, but we have to work on loving ourselves which is easier said than done, but we have time to learn because I am still learning this lesson. It’s 2021 and I began to learn how to accept, respect, and love myself back in 2018. Sad to say, “We live in a world where we value the scale over our souls” (CeCe Olisa).

Here are some things to think about I received from a TEDTalk presented by CeCe Olisa on How to Build Self Confdence: Step 1- Identify your perceived obstacle Step 2- Imagine what your life would look like if your perceived obstacle disappeared Step 3- Address your perceived obstacle Step 4- Choose to live the life you imagined today. From Olisa, “Don’t wait on your weight to live the life you want”! My first step is purchasing a dress that I like and wear it out in public without shame or regret. Seems simple, yet, it will be a major step on my ED journey.

#eating disorder awareness #body image #self-confidence #self love

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mrneighbourlove · 4 years

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Evil’s Bane: Ch 8. Looming Dread

Leere looked a round a massive red ballroom, with a large staircase leading up to more doors. There were chandeliers hanging above, and many routes that they could take. No exits outside of course. Turning to Bonegrinder, she was catching her breath with the other Mortuus. “Bonegrinder. And Hades? I’m surprised you made it here.”

"Bonegrinder?" Black approached the Anagari who was breathing hard. It was evident he was not fully healed. Hades did what he could, but it would take a while for Prama's magic to finish such horrible injuries, most of which could not be seen with the eye. The Wraith frowned, noticing how the Anagari was struggling to even stay upright. "... we need to go back. You're in bad shape."

"He has been in bad shape for a long time, Black." Bonegrinder always had that dry humor availible, despite the situation. "You will have to wait to go back. Summoning a portal is not easy work. He will have to rest some more."

“Can we wait here? What if danger makes itself known?” Bi-Hanzo asked. Grabbing his head, he shook it. Felt hot in the room. And, did he hear something in distance? Sounded like laughter. No. Must have been his imagination.

"Not unless you have readily available portal magic so we can leave." Black then stated. "If you want to go on, then be my guest. My responsibility is the princess. Not you."

"... this snake supposes that he should question where we are. There is a familiar feeling of this place... but worse than last time."

“Last time?” Leere asked.

Hades was pacing around, feeling uncertain about his surroundings. Kenshi wiped the sweat off his head, feeling sick.

"Wait... no... was that this snake or Prama?" Bonegrinder rubbed his forehead. "His memories... Prama's memories... when is where, and where is when..."

"Don't stress over it," Black knew this was not a good sign. Anymore stress, and his master's mind might snap again. Two souls in one body was really taxing and he had seen many of his master's so-called 'episodes'. The last thing the group needed was a huge blast of magic knocking everyone back and drawing the attention of Destroyer... or his minions. "We're here now. Let's focus on the here."

Leere paced, rubbing her head. There was something... bad. Something familiar in the air. And it made her feel anxious.

Kenshi suddenly looked up, feeble shock trembling in his voice. There was sweat gushing down his face now, and his widened eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept for days. “Franeska?”

Leere and the others turned to see Kenshi suddenly running off. Bi-Hanzo was shocked by this. “Kenshi! Where are you going?!” The man chased after his fellow villager. When Kenshi reached the door, he opened it up with a kick. Inside was a small room with no natural light in the room. In that room, a little girl with her back to him facing the direct corner of the room was all that could be seen. Unnaturally she was perfectly illuminated with a bright red coat that covered her face from view. Leere looked to Black, hurrying along. Kenshi kept himself in the frame of the door from letting anyone else in.

"Don't follow after that apparition!" Black told Kenshi, sensing danger when the man ran off, but he did not chase him. He stayed with Leere. "Bonegrinder... something bad is coming, isn't it?"

"Bad doesn't even begin to describe it, Black... it's much worse than you could ever imagine."

Kenshi drew closer, relief on his face. “Franeska? It’s your father. It’s me.”

As Leere got into eyesight, all her instincts kicked in so fast she almost threw up. Memories she buried of being underwater and trapped with nightmares flooded back. She could sense the unique brand of demonic undeath now. It tastes like iron and vomit on her tongue. As her breath grew dry, and she tried to get the words out, Kenshi felt it too. “Wait...”

What turned around was no longer his daughter. A hideous monster with bone claws coming out of its hands and a disturbing contorted face of twisted flesh. With a shake of its head, as if confirming it was no longer his daughter, it stabbed those claws deep into Kenshi’s chest. Over and over it tore him slowly apart. Leere and Bi-Hanzo stepped back. From inside the room, a gargled roar echoed in its chambers. Turns out, in the dark, there was long, long tunnel that stretched far and wide. And it was filled to the brim with monsters. Leere looked to the door up the stair case, adrenaline rushing through her. “RUN!!!”

"Again with the running, why can't humans ever listen?" Black hurried alongside Leere, rushing, but looked over his shoulder to see Bonegrinder and Hades. At least his master could still move, but his speed was greatly reduced. The ghouls snarled, almost trampling over each other to tear the group apart. They had so much energy and hate in their being then any other undead the Wraith had seen. Once the doors at the top of the staircase were open, and everyone was through, Black used a touch of his own magic to seal it for the time being. There were multiple bangs against the door, and he frowned. "We have to find a place where we can rest for a bit. All this running is going to take a toll on all of us."

The bang on the doors grew more intense, and the ghouls crawled over the walls and ran to other doors to find other ways of reaching them. There were hundreds of undead that chased them from that room alone. How many more were there? Leere gripped her shadow medallion, sighing. “Let’s keep walking down this hall for now.” Looking to Bi-Hanzo, she nodded solemnly to him. “I’m so sorry about losing Kenshi.”

“Least I know what’s happened to my missing people...”

"We need to exercise caution. We don't know what to expect from a place like this." Black walked beside of Leere, glancing back every now and then to check on Bonegrinder. The Wraith was concerned about the Anagari. He had not seen him look this bad in a very long while. Black was one of the oldest members of the Hive and he had been through harsh times with Bonegrinder, thick and thin.

Walking down the hallway, it started to curve. On the walls were pipes and lights. Leere heard of this before, and seen it in Danjur. Electricity. Little bulbs of light glowing faintly to light of the room.

There were doors every once in the while on the left side. Staying alert, they saw a Mortuus at one of the doors, fumbling with keys to get in. Leere looked to Black. “Should we risk taking a guide, or move on?”

"Judging from what transpired outside this tower, these people rather shoot off their own foot than help a stranger." Black did not sound too enthused. "Let us try to keep moving until Bonegrinder can summon a portal."

"We cannot trust these Mortuus, Leere." Bonegrinder told the princess in-between slithers. He had to stop to catch his breath every now and then. Seeing he was larger than the humans and Hades, he could slither a little then rest for a moment. "Remember what he said about friend or foe; that does not apply here. They are both."

“Agreed. I don’t want to talk with these cultists of damnation.” It seemed Bi-Hanzo was in a charitable mood towards Bonegrinder. So they waited until the Mortuus was gone before contributing onwards. Walking up a spiraling staircase, they started to gain a view of the outside. The city held the sights of people arguing, children running through the streets, and monsters eating anyone who was foolish enough to have their guard down. High in the sky, a dragon flew by silently. Leere cringed when she saw how little skin it had on its body when it become illuminated by the moon.

Arriving at the top of the staircase, they came across a purple and red door. Creaking it open, Leere peered inside. A giant ballroom filled with cultists were strewn about. They were cutting apart bodies, experimenting with wiring, and praying to statues of various gods and demons. It seemed to be an active hub.

"...!!!" Bonegrinder felt physically sick. His scales flickered, sensing the danger. Carefully, he pulled Leere back with his tail and shut the door, praying none of the cultists noticed. "... he senses foulness there, tiny princess. Let us keep going."

"... they were making more puppets, weren't they?" Black asked his master.

"Yes, among other things. This snake can sense his brother's presence nearby... that or his magic one. Destroyer and Chaos have riddled this place with their disease of seducing black arts."

As Hades was about to turn back down the stairs, he paused. His powerful sense of hearing often lead to dread. “Those undead abominations have found our path. Judging by the smell, they’d be upon us in fifteen minutes.”

"There's no way all of us can take down a horde of those things." Black knew he could simply hide in the shadows and wait it out, but pulling in three other beings with him? That'd drain his magic excessively. There was no way he could pull it off for long and he refused to leave his master's side anyhow. "Do you think we can find a way to the outside? It'd even be safer to hang off a wall at this point."

Hades looked down at the room, scanning its contents. At the far end, he saw a sign of hope. “Very end of the room. There’s an elevator going upwards. Our chances are much stronger if we fight our way through to there then back down. Bonegrinder. Can you manage it?”

"This snake can move, though he is concerned about the elevator." The Anagari told the Lynel. "He is very weighty and so are you, old friend. There is a chance we both might not fit."

“Then we can take turns. Let us depart.”

Down at in the ballroom, one cultist was conducting an experiment. With a rat maze, he had a small worm like parasite travel through a fog identical to the one that the group traveled through the cave. Once it made its way to the other size and in a bigger container, it grew nearly ten times its size to fill the glass container. As he was writing notes, his head suddenly turned into red paste as Hades club utterly destroyed him with one swing. The Lynel short teleported over your cause first blood and sew confusion amongst the cultists.

Leere was running down the steps to the elevator, when she paused in her tracks at a monument she saw. A red obelisk with runes glew a menacing light glow on and off, and a deep anger filled her being. It was a construct just like the Beacon she shut down decades ago. “Sweet mother of god...”

When a cultist tried to hack at her with a sickle, Leere twisted her body around to dance around her attacker. With a graceful movement of her arms, she positioned her scythe at the other Mortuus head. Activating her blade, the blue hum of the energy easily decapitated her target, sending the head rolling in Black’s direction.

Black was managing to keep the cultists away from Bonegrinder with ease. He was using the darkness to his advantage. One by one, he took down anyone foolish enough to try to harm his master. Still, there was no place safe enough to rest and recover. The group would have to keep moving. Though when Hades suggested that all of them take turns on the elevator, Black shook his head furiously. "I will not leave Bonegrinder while he's like this. If he is alone and attacked, and another episode occurs, he could bring down this whole tower and us with it."

“Then you go up with him first!” Hades bucked his feet backwards, kicking another cultist into a statue. Leere watched Bi-Hanzo race for the elevator. When they got closer, he realized how big it was. More so, looking up at the opening, how far it traveled up. “Hurry!”

One Cultist threw a spear and chain at Black, stabbing through his shoulder blade and pulling him closer. His eyes were a mess with bloodlust, and with magic, a ghostly green fire spread up the chain to burn the Wraith. As the cultist was ready to turn up the heat, Leere cut the chain off, following up with chopping Black’s attacker in half. It left a messy pair of legs to stumble around for a moment. “Are you alright?”

Bonegrinder managed to slither into the elevator, fitting his coils inside tightly. There was just enough room for Black when the Wraith was suddenly pulled backwards. As soon as the assassin was out of the elevator, the doors suddenly shut and trapped the Anagari inside. Black, however, released a piercing screech as the blade struck through his body. He did not know what the tool was enchanted with, some kind of dark magic, but it made his limbs feel numb. Almost like the Cultist was trying to force his will. As soon as Leere cut down the cultist, he held his shoulder. Little drops of blood floated around the wound, able to see clearly through the hole. This would take a while to fix. "... that magic was trying to force me to obey." The Wraith then glanced at the elevator. "And we're separated from Bonegrinder. We must find him."

The elevator suddenly shot up, leaving the group the watch Bonegrinder be taken away. “No! No!!!” Leere reached a hand up in vein. She wasn’t fast enough. Looking around, she saw a lever to call it back down. Pulling it, she didn’t know how long they’d have to wait. Although the last of the cultists were dead or scattered, the danger wasn’t over. Back at the door they entered, a cultist was about to flee, when she was suddenly snatched away by the swarm of the undead. The hideous ghouls looked down the stairs, looking at the group. With a war cry of terror, they ran towards the flesh. Leere gripped her scythe, taking a few breaths. “We just have to hold out!”

"Hold out?! There's too many of them." Black was never an optimistic person. "If one of us gets pulled down, we're not getting back up---!!!"

DING!

The Wraith was interrupted by the elevator's appearance... without Bonegrinder inside.

Too late. The monsterous creatures were already on top of them.

Bi-Hanzo magically blasted ice and picked up a sword to hack away at them. When one slashed at his stomach, bleeding him, he retreated back into the elevator after bringing up a wall of ice between him and some of the ghouls.

Black might have been impressed by how quick and furious Leere was if both weren’t concerned with staying alive. The Shadow Sage kept hacking away at the fast undead, limb after limb after limb. But there were just too many. Covered in blood, unsure how much was there and how many cuts they gave here, she didn’t know if they’d make it out alive.

That was when Hades launched a powerful stream of fire to burn away a wave of the undead. “Into the elevator! Flee! Now! You must live!!!”

The ghouls were endless, one after the other, and he was down an arm. The Wraith had to improvise, pulling the undead around with his shadows and using the area to his advantage. Yet, even he was tiring. When Hades bellowed at him to move, the assassin started to protest. Bonegrinder would have his head if he knew he left Hades, but also if he put Leere in unnecessary danger. Damn it, why did this always have to happen to him.? Black had never moved so fast in this second chance of life, if one would call it that, as he chucked Leere over his shoulder so she could still swing her weapon and launched into the elevator.

Leere was ready to save Hades when Black suddenly picked her up. Her concentration disrupted, she could have used the shadows to give him a fighting chance, or give him reinforcements. As she got her footing again, the last glimpse she saw of the Lynel was being swarmed by the ghouls when the elevator doors slammed shut, and they made their way up.

“No!!!” Leere slammed her fists on the door. Still angry, she turned to Black, clocking him in the face with a surprise punch to the nose. “What the hell are you thinking?!?! You disrupted my concentration! Again! I could have helped give Hades a chance had you not suddenly grabbed me from behind! You’re not a knight in shining armour Black!”

Bi-Hanzo was still catching his breath, looking at this blood covered woman screaming at her comrade. Glancing at his own wounds, he winced.

"..." Black barely flinched when Leere punched him. He wiped away the floating blood from his nose and then retorted, "Bonegrinder gave me an order to look after your ungrateful ass. I promised him I would. I'm keeping my promise, no matter how much I think this whole idea of yours was a fool's errand. Now are you going to stop screaming at me like a brat and help me find my master or are you going to continue to berate me for my job?"

“I’m going to berate you for not thinking properly. Yes, I wanted to come here. But I know exactly what I’m getting myself into! I’m a warrior Black! This type of shit is my expertise. And if you keep fucking around and treating me like a Princess, you’re going to get others killed, or me! You want to save your master? Then use your goddamn brain.”

Bi-Hanzo leaned back against the wall, taking deep breaths. “What kind of shit are we in?”

Leere took a moment to use her shadow magic to peel off the blood stains from her clothes and onto the floor. “Nothing good at all. These Mortuus must be magical geniuses or morons. I’m going to say the latter seeing how they found a way to open up a portal to a dimension of madness and the worst undead I’ve encountered in my life. There’s no telling what else we’ll discover here. All I know is I’m not leaving until I shut it down. Again.”

"... fine then. You certainly have the bitchy temper of a princess." Black used the shadows to 'stitch' his shoulder wound closed for the time being. It almost looked like a dark parasite latching onto the Wraith's skin, but it would have to do for now. "I'm going to search for Bonegrinder. You do what you like." Once the elevator stopped, the Wraith took a look at the surroundings before stepping out.

Outside, was a narrow, metal caged hallway. The steel was rusting something fierce, and the darkness was overwhelming from all directions around them.

“What happened to sticking together?” Leere finally took a look at Bi-Hanzo’s wounds, pulling out a sewing kit from one of her pouches to help him out.

"You obviously care more for this Prama-forsaken country than you do for the well being of the one who has tried to protect you from all this darkness for years. I don't understand you. You're not the hero, you're the Shadow Sage. Heroic missions are for that kid swinging around a sword in green." Black stated very bluntly, "Bonegrinder is by no means perfect, but he does care for you for some reason that eludes me. I'm not going to guard someone who doesn't want me to do so and I'm going to go and find him so we can get out of his hell on earth."

“And what are you Black? An undead blade to your master? Klinge minus the smug charm?” She pulled tight on one of Bi-Hanzo’s wounds. “What I do I don’t ever account to my daughter or other children. This isn’t a fairy tale of a hero. But this is good vs. evil. There is a nightmare I need to put an end to here. You go find Bonegrinder. Leave if you want. But you save the good that can be found in this damned corner of earth.” She turned to him, a fierce determination in her eyes. “Because fighting for the good of humanity is always a noble cause.”

"Heh, now Klinge was someone I would admire. He had the lethality of an Echidnan when he was undead but gave it up for that woman and to play house." Black told the princess with no qualms about his statement. "I am an assassin. I was a bringer of death in life and now I am in this state. I killed many arrogant bastards, some who deserved it, some may not have. Either way, what 'good' I have seen in this world is debatable." The Wraith told Leere. "I am not here to protect the 'good' left in this earth. I am here to ensure the safety of Bonegrinder, the one being who tried to help me during the time where I was lost. I am not here to save the many, I am here to save only one." He then said, "Have you even thought about what would happen if Prama was ripped from Bonegrinder too early? No? Of course you haven't. Otherwise, we wouldn't be here, in the last place my master should be, but no. No, he's here because you made a deal with that damn Prama and he feels guilty. You manipulated him." Black barely showed emotion, but this was definitely a button for him. "You're right, Leere. I am no knight in shining armor. Never aimed to be. Yet, I will keep Bonegrinder save with the last of what I am because he helped me when no one else would." He scoffed. "Good of humanity... humans caused all of this. They had a choice. These Mortuus had a choice. And look what they chose. I have very little faith in humanity."

“You’re right. And it’s my choice to save what I can.” Leere stepped off the elevator with Bi-Hanzo. Activating her scythe, she used the blade to light the way forward. With blood long stained on the floor, it didn’t look pleasant. Leading them, she smirked at Black’s thoughts on the o. “Gave up his lethality? I pity you Black. You and the rest of the Hive. And I think I finally get it.”

"You don't need to." Black admitted to Leere almost with a chuckle. "We're all monsters here. The fact is, I've embraced it." He then looked at her. "But you haven't."

“And you think that’s a good thing? You lack humanity. You lack empathy for those outside your immediate bubble. It’s our connections to family, friends, and those we love that makes us strong. Why would you want to be a monster Black? Monsters are what threaten the innocent.”

”You can’t save them”

A tiny whisper ran out in their heads individually. It was like the wind in the air, briefly passing by.

Leere gripped her head, shrugging it off to paranoia that she’d fail. “I can be as vicious, bloodthirsty, and dangerous as I can be. But that doesn’t make me a monster.”

"It is a good thing, because the monsters survive, Leere." Black thought it was rather amusing. She still had no clue of why Bonegrinder wanted her to avoid all of this madness. Yet, perhaps it would eventually be her downfall. If only she had listened, the princess wouldn't be in this place. "And I am not human. Therefore, my lacking of humanity is for naught."

“But you where human once. Surely that means something to you. Tell me. Who do you love the most Black. Who’d you give your all to that wasn’t your job? Who do you miss in your heart?” Leere’s scythe went out, and she never got her answer. “Black? Bi-Hanzo?” Leere searched around in the darkness, and the assassin and the Mortuus warrior were gone.

"I was never fully human, I was am a hy---!!!"

Black was suddenly alone. He pivoted on his heel. Where did the princess go? He looked up and then down. No, he did not fall through a hole. Nor did he activate his shadow magic. What was going on? The Wraith jolted when he saw an outline of his old home. It was faint in his memories, but he knew it was there. He also recalled the pain that was held there. Recollections he'd rather forget. His parents were very much in love, but his birth was a bad omen to them. Yes, his beautiful mother, a human, and his mighty father, a monster from some of Mother's adoptive children, as she called them. A enchanting Nokken, otherwise known as a shapeshifter. Some could reproduce with humans. Others could not.

"Filthy halfling, filthy halfling."

This was an illusion. His parents were long gone. These faces which tormented him were dead. He knew that, he killed them. Perhaps it was now his turn to be haunted. Yet, that would be silly. A Wraith? Being haunted? A ghost haunting a spirit? That was laughable. Yet, the words still stung. The way the other children would chant 'filthy halfling' always irritated him. There was no love for anything remotely human in the world of monsters. It was easier to be a full monster, then anything resembling human. So, Black wanted to make sure that no one would ever mistake him for a pitiful human ever again. He'd change his shape and blend into the shadows.

"Don't you want to be a full monster? What if we could help you?"

"A little too late to play mind games, don't you think?"

"You could be of more assistance to Bonegrinder rather than a weak halfling."

"That's true. I probably would be stronger."

"Then accept our help. Let us help you break free of these human restraints."

"No."

"No? We thought you hated humans."

"I do. They're rotten creatures. But... they're crafty. And I'd like to hold onto that part of me."

“How about a test then?” A voice that didn’t belong called out. A shadow swept through the area, materializing with horns and a smell of brimstone. With flickering red eyes and a body that wasn’t all there, the Shadow Man confronted Black. “A choice then. Human? Or monster kind?”

"... you're the one that Echidnans call Tzitzimime..." The Wraith did not seem afraid or bothered. It was hard to have emotions being in a state of limbo, he supposed. Though, for some odd reason, he could still feel frustration. "The embodiment of Chaos."

“A humble avatar for my master.” The Shadow Man chuckled. With the wave of a hand, two doors appeared. “You have a choice to make Wraith. On the left door you will be led down a path to the fallen Echidnan God. On the right, the Mortuus Sage desperately clinging to hope. Both are about to become in mortal danger. If you hurry, you might be able to save one. Human or Monster? And I’d chose quickly.”

"So I suppose Mother of the Monsters was correct. You are split into pieces." Black simply stood there. "I'm surprised you haven't tried to kill me. Giving me a choice instead?"

“Because it’ll be more fun to see you fail in protecting not just one, but potentially two of your companions.” The insidious malice dripping from his voice was piercing. “Be fun to see your face twist with anguish when you see them dead.”

"You are mistaken if you believe I think of that human girl as a companion." Black was as stoic as ever. "Bonegrinder told me to protect her. She told me not to do so. If she dies, then the world will be rid of another one of your potential hosts you've waited for, obviously for a long while or you'd be here causing your havoc already." The Wraith asked, sounding a touch... pissed. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

“I do. That’s why you aren’t dedicated in a choice regardless by now. Save your master, or go out to kill the girl to stop my first plan of choice.”

"Well, you see, you made a mistake. I care about Bonegrinder. Not that shitty god inside of him. Also, one more thing," Black held out his hand before jerking it back. "You have to pay an assassin to kill someone. I'm not seeing any loot. So goodbye." The Wraith took the door to his master.

The Shadow Man’s eyes flickered with a smile. Closing the door behind Black, he made sure to single Destroyah that now was the time. “All too easy.”

Bonegrinder was in a hell of his own. The Anagari was frozen, unable to move. His limbs would not work and he could not find the strength to slither. He was tormented by visions of his family, lost long ago. The way they spoke was like a drug. He had not heard their voices in years, seen their faces in ages. The snake was content to die here since he saw his family one last time. Yet, Prama was trying to draw the snake back to rational thought, will him to get up and fight, but if he risked using too much magic, it would draw the attention of Dhakk. He could sense his brother nearby. This had to be a ploy.

Luckily, Black knew just the way to gain his master's attention. "Forgive me, Bonegrinder, but I am doing this for your own good." Black had suffered under illusions before and the only way to break free from them was... pain. So he stuck the tip of his blade into Bonegrinder's tail, earning a yowl from the Anagari.

Leere turned to see a white light shine down on a dark silhouette in the distance. It was a woman standing up, yet crooked in her posture. When she spoke Leere froze. ”My sweet little daughter... you shouldn’t have come here. You should have listened to your friends.”

Leere held her ground as a deathly version of Zelda walked toward her like a puppet on strings. Her eyes were gauged out, with bloody trailing down her cheeks like tears. It was sickening to see her mother used against her again. Especially now that Zelda had passed on. “Get out of my head. You aren’t my mother.”

“Why? Afraid you’re going insane? It’s ok. You’ll be dead soon enough you stupid girl.” The puppet suddenly ran at a frightening speed towards Leere. With no hesitation, she swung her blade to cut Zelda in half down the side. With her body splitting apart, the upper half of this sickening doppelganger of her mother leaped towards Leere, pinning her down. Zelda’s hands reached around Leere’s neck, squeezing tightly with rotting fingers. ”You’re a disappointment to the family. And none of them will see your body again. I should never have adopted you from that cage.”

Leere gasped as she was losing breath. Reaching to her side, she grasped at empty air until she found her knife. Turning purple in the face and her eyes growing bloodshot, she thrusted up in Zelda, stabbing the nightmare in the throat. Twisting the blade, she grabbed a lose hand up and snapped her neck. Gasping for breath and tearing up, Leere chocked on air as she kicked frantically to stand up.

However, her torment was far from over. The area exploded into a rush of yellow lighting, and the eerie cackles of children called out. Leere saw a large light in the shape of a door way. All around were tiny zombified children hissing and running at her from the dark. Every last one of them was a freakish version of her daughter Joy. Grabbing her scythe, and relying on instinct, Leere ran to the light. Everytime she was forced to cut down a version of Joy, a piercing taunt ran out in her head.

”Don’t you love me mommy?”

”Why did you never come back?”

”My mother didn’t love me enough to return.”

”You’re hurting me!” ”Die with me mommy!”

”It’s you’re fault we’re dead!”

With a frantic scream, Leere ran through the light. On the other side, she tripped and collapsed onto a clear floor all alone. Shuddering, she bit her lip hard to feel anything else other than fear. Rising up, she let out a roar so angry, so full of wrath, it’d shake the hearts of any who heard it. “I’LL KILL YOU FOR THIS!!!! YOU’LL PAY FOR TAUNTING ME!!!”

Leere wasn’t going to let these fuckers get away with torturing her and her friends anymore.

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/626094887593443328/evils-bane-ch-7-entering-the-tower

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/626630162211028992/evils-bane-ch-9-everyone-has-something-to-lose

#Crossover!#Love comments of your thoughts #ridersoftheapocalypse #Leere #Leere Dragmire #Bonegrinder #Black the Wraith #Ghouls #Horror #Bloodshed

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bodyswapmischief · 5 years

Text

Silver’s Sauna: Nerd to Sliver Fox

Just moments ago, I was a nerdy high school senior. Now, I'm almost an actual senior at 55 years old. Yes, I have one hell of a body, but was it worth 37 years of my life.

I was always made fun of, in school. First I was, too short ... But, once puberty hit, I grew taller. To bad my muscles didn't get the growth memo. I was a tall, pale, nerdy skeleton. And jocks/bullies at my school never let me forget how much of an outcast I was.

With college coming up soon, I saw my chance to start over. I could work on my self now and become the person I wanted to be in college. So, I joined a gym, where I knew my classmates wouldn't bother me. Silver's Gym was mainly advertised to older men. The mascot was a fox. So ... the whole Silver Fox motif wasn't lost on me.

I walked up to the front desk. And, there was Mr. Edward Silver. He was the youngest and fittest man in there, in his early 30's. He was curious why I wanted to be at this gym. So, I told him my story. He understood and even gave me a discount. For the past few months I went, but saw no results. Mr. Silver tried to give me tips, but I just couldn't gain weight to build muscle. Exercising became a form of meditation for me. And working out next to overweight business men was a real confidence booster.

Today, I was working out when I saw a bald and severely obese man walk in. His clothes and the way he carried himself shown that his gluttonous appetite came from his extremely wealthy life style. Mr. Silver came, out of the back office, and greeted him. They started talking and the old man handed Mr. Silver a brief case. Mr. Silver motioned to me and the old man nodded. My gut told me I needed to leave, immediately.

I stopped what I was doing and rushed into to the locker room. My heart was racing and it felt like being back at school, running from my bullies. As I struggled to get the locker open, Mr. Silver walked in. Being bullied at school, I considered him my only friend, based on the interactions we had. But, now standing in front of me, he was different. He stared at me like a predator that had cornered his prey. I didn't know what he was going to do, but I knew he had me trapped. "Aw Eric! Glad I found you." He said in a fake cheerful tone. "I wanted to congratulate you, myself. You won the gyms surprise lottery. You got yourself a free trip to the sauna."

"That's great," I let out, fear shaking my throat. "But, I can't do it now ... Can I comeback..." Mr Silver interrupted me, with his fake cheery tone. "Oh, we both know you're not gonna want to miss this opportunity." He grabbed me and forcibly led me to the spa area. I tried to break free. Even though Mr. Silver was shorter than me, his ripped body easily slammed me into the locker. With his ripped physique pressed against me, he looked at me straight in the eyes, his silent message was clear. I wasn't escaping. I stopped fighting back and let him take me.

He led me into the basement, with two glass chambers. The chambers were set up like saunas, except for the 3 glass walls. In one chamber sat the fat old man, with a towel across his legs. "Strip down and here's a towel." Mr Silver commanded. Understanding that I couldn't do anything to escape, I followed his command. He opened the door to the other chamber and I walked in.

The fat old man looked at me at smile. "Hello, I'm Theodore Hutchinson. And, I appreciate what you are about to do for me." I was confused. "What's going on!'" I order Mr. Silver to explain what was happening. "Years ago, I discovered these particles that I have infused into this mist. When properly charged these particles can overcome the obstacles of time and space. However they need to be balanced, or else ... bad things happen" Mr. Silver began to explain.

As he was talking, I witnessed what was happening to Mr. Hutchinson. Fat was melting of his body. Hair was growing back on his head. His body was becoming less hairy. His skin started to tighten and his body was being pumped with muscle. Once the steam cleared he looked like he was now my age. He looked like the buff jocks that made my life a living hell. His towel dropped to the floor revealing his hard cock. He started laughing in disbelief, while feeling up his body. The laughs turned into moans and he started rubbing his cock. His body pulsing with pleasure as as he felt up his now younger body.

The machine started violently shaking, as Mr. Silver walked back to it. "See. These little guys are fighting to regain balance. They need somewhere to go." He said deviously. Steam started filling up my chamber. I panicked, looking at Mr. Hutchinson younger body. I subconsciously put one hand on my stomach. I brushed the other hand through my hair. Mr. Silver laughed. "It doesn't work like that. It's not a body swap machine. In Mr. Hutchinson’s case it naturally de-aged him to his senior year of high school. When he was a muscled up jock. You on the other hand, It will age you as if you kept living your life naturally. What you will look like ... well who knows. That's the fun part. Maybe you will get fat and bald like he was and maybe you won’t. Only time will tell." Mr. Silver Flipped the switch.

The steam surrounded my body. Although I could still breathe, I felt suffocated. My body was heating up. Suddenly, I felt a pressure on my stomach and saw it start stretching. My chest became flabby and my stomach jutted out. " Looks like some gained the freshman 15," Mr. Silver playfully said.

Part of me was happy that I was no longer a skinny skeleton. But I worried how fat I was going to get, as the weight kept piling on. "Someone discovered beer on their 21st birthday." Mr Silver Chimed in.

Suddenly I feel my arm getting stabbed over and again. A tattoo appeared on my arm. My body was still chubby, but muscle was beginning to developed. My biceps started painfully pulsating, as they increased in size. My chest became more defined. " Look's like 25 was a good year for you." Silver seemed amused.

My body kept increasing in size and my belly became flatter. I begin to feel stabbing in my other arm and neck. More tattoos appeared. "Damn your looking good in your 30's, most guys I’ve seen let themselves go, by now." Silver said, not hiding the fact he was getting turned on.

My skin started to tan and finally an eight pack formed on my stomach. My body looked like what you might imagine an ancient gladiators body would look like. I was in the best shape my life. "So you are one of the it gets better with age guys, huh." Silver said, with a big smile on his face. He was really enjoying this.

The mist kept swirling, but my body only went through minor changes. A little more muscle gain and a pricking sensation as stubble appeared on my face. But, then I started to feel drained. I was more tried. My body felt heavier. It felt like more work to carry all this muscle. The steam cleared. I looked down at my body. I was insanely fit and hot and my body wasn't changing anymore. With a body like this, I had to still be in my late 30's, at the most. Confused, I asked "why am I still in my 30's ..." I stop, shocked by how old I sounded. Silver chimed in, "It would look like that, doesn't it." Silver smiles. "But you are now 55."

My heart beat fast in disbelief. Mr. Silver held up a mirror. Although my body looked strong, I still felt heavy. I slowly got up feeling pain in my lower back and knees. I made my way to the mirror. I looked at my reflection and saw an old face staring back. Wrinkles on my face and grey in my hair and stubble.

"It looks like you are in great shape ... but as an older man you are going have to live differently to keep that body tight. There will have to be diet changes and working out twice has hard and twice as much, compared to a man now half your age." Mr Silver smiled, checking out an analyzing the work he did to my body. I stumbled back to my seat, reality setting in. I'm an old man now. A hot Silver Fox, but still an old man. "What's going to happen. I can't go back home like this." I cried out.

"Your past is taken care of. To everyone you knew ... you are dead. A bus crush that should happen any moment, now. As for the future ... you are now a father. Your son is that young man over there, Ted Hutchinson. As per his contract, he has given you his life and all the wealth that comes along with it. You will continue to work in his company and make money. And, you will have time for fun too, so don't worry about having to work to much. After all, you have 10 more years until retirement is an option. Your new son will get to live like the rich kid he always wanted to be, instead of the self-made billionaire he had to be. And, once you die, you will leave everything to your son. Do we have an agreement?"

With tears in my eyes, I nodded. I didn't have choice. My whole life was gone. If I said no, I'd probably end up on the streets, with my parents not believing I'm really me and a lack of work experience to get a job. Who's going want to hire a 55 year old man with no work experience or proof of being a citizen.

My life was over. Not that it was great, so far. But, it was mine. I missed out on so many experiences. It seemed like my 20's, 30's and 40's were going to be great. But, now I would never know. I mean with how in shape I am in, I'd probably live into my 90's, assuming something else doesn't go wrong in my body, but now that is only 40 years away. Silver comes back and brings me the contract. I sign it.

My new son, Ted, walks in. I feel angry about what he did to me. "I'm lucky my new daddy is so hot" he says as he enters my chamber. He walks closer to me. His body less muscular than mine, but still hot. He starts feeling up my aged body. And, I start feeling his, my anger turning to lust. "Don't worry I'll take care of you dad" Ted said, removing my towel and exposing my old but still impressive cock. He bends down and starts sucking it. I moan in pleasure.

I could get use to this. I mean there's nothing I could do about it now. I might as well enjoy it ... while I'm still alive. Being a Silver Fox can have it’s benefits.

#male #body #swap #mischief #transformation #stories #tf #story #musle #age #theft #transfer #aging #de-aging

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wisteria-lodge · 5 years

Text

Highlighting important Holmes & Watson character beats (1/10)

I got an interesting question the other day, about the moments in the original Sherlock Holmes stories that are more about *character development* and *relationship building* than mystery solving. And honestly, it’s a cool exercise, reading the Conan Doyle stories and watching this one complex little relationship grow.

So here you go. For your reading pleasure: Holmes & Watson, the good stuff

~ A STUDY IN SCARLET ~

[Dr. John Watson is back from the war, his PTSD and $$ situation not looking so good. Watson’s old intern Stamford thinks he’s found him a roommate]

“We came here on business,” said Stamford, sitting down on a high three-legged stool, and pushing another one in my direction with his foot. “My friend here wants to take diggings, and as you were complaining that you could get no one to go halves with you, I thought that I had better bring you together.”

Sherlock Holmes seemed delighted at the idea of sharing his rooms with me. “I have my eye on a suite in Baker Street,” he said, “which would suit us down to the ground. You don’t mind the smell of strong tobacco, I hope?”

“I always smoke ‘ship’s’ myself,” I answered.

“That’s good enough. I generally have chemicals about, and occasionally do experiments. Would that annoy you?”

“By no means.”

“Let me see—what are my other shortcomings. I get in the dumps at times, and don’t open my mouth for days on end. You must not think I am sulky when I do that. Just let me alone, and I’ll soon be right. What have you to confess now? It’s just as well for two fellows to know the worst of one another before they begin to live together.”

I laughed at this cross-examination. “I keep a bull pup,” I said, “and I object to rows because my nerves are shaken, and I get up at all sorts of ungodly hours, and I am extremely lazy. I have another set of vices when I’m well, but those are the principal ones at present.”

“Do you include violin-playing in your category of rows?” he asked, anxiously.

“It depends on the player,” I answered. “A well-played violin is a treat for the gods—a badly-played one—”

“Oh, that’s all right,” he cried, with a merry laugh. “I think we may consider the thing as settled.”

The reader may set me down as a hopeless busybody, when I confess how much this man stimulated my curiosity, and how often I endeavored to break through the reticence which he showed on all that concerned himself. Before pronouncing judgment, however, be it remembered, how objectless was my life, and how little there was to engage my attention. My health forbade me from venturing out unless the weather was exceptionally genial, and I had no friends who would call upon me and break the monotony of my daily existence. Under these circumstances, I eagerly hailed the little mystery which hung around my companion, and spent much of my time in endeavoring to unravel it.

I see that I have alluded above to his powers upon the violin. These were very remarkable, but as eccentric as all his other accomplishments. That he could play pieces, and difficult pieces, I knew well, because at my request he has played me some of Mendelssohn’s Lieder, and other favorites. When left to himself, however, he would seldom produce any music or attempt any recognized air. Leaning back in his arm-chair of an evening, he would close his eyes and scrape carelessly at the fiddle (...) Sometimes the chords were sonorous and melancholy. Occasionally they were fantastic and cheerful. Clearly they reflected the thoughts which possessed him, but whether the music aided those thoughts, or whether the playing was simply the result of a whim or fancy was more than I could determine. I might have rebelled against these exasperating solos had it not been that he usually terminated them by playing in quick succession a whole series of my favorite airs as a slight compensation for the trial upon my patience.

[Holmes is a detective, Holmes shows off]

“[Your deduction] is simple enough as you explain it,” I said, smiling. “You remind me of Edgar Allen Poe’s Dupin. I had no idea that such individuals did exist outside of stories.”

Sherlock Holmes rose and lit his pipe. “No doubt you think that you are complimenting me in comparing me to Dupin,” he observed. “Now, in my opinion, Dupin was an inferior fellow (...) really very showy and superficial. He had some analytical genius, no doubt; but he was by no means such a phenomenon as Poe appeared to imagine.”

“Have you read Gaboriau’s works?” I asked. “Does Lecoq come up to your idea of a detective?”

Sherlock Holmes sniffed sardonically. “Lecoq was a miserable bungler,” he said (...) “he had only one thing to recommend him, and that was his energy. That book made me positively ill. The question was how to identify an unknown prisoner. I could have done it in twenty-four hours. Lecoq took six months or so. It might be made a text-book for detectives to teach them what to avoid.”

I felt rather indignant at having two characters whom I had admired treated in this cavalier style. I walked over to the window, and stood looking out into the busy street. “This fellow may be very clever,” I said to myself, “but he is certainly very conceited.”

[Watson tags along, having “nothing better to do.”]

“You sum up the difficulties of the [case] succinctly and well,” [Holmes] said. “There is much that is still obscure, though I have quite made up my mind on the main facts. (...) I’m not going to tell you much more of the case, Doctor. You know a conjuror gets no credit when once he has explained his trick, and if I show you too much of my method of working, you will come to the conclusion that I am a very ordinary individual after all.”

“I shall never do that,” I answered; “you have brought detection as near an exact science as it ever will be brought in this world.”

My companion flushed up with pleasure at my words, and the earnest way in which I uttered them. I had already observed that he was as sensitive to flattery on the score of his art as any girl could be of her beauty.

[Holmes explains]

“You see the whole thing is a chain of logical sequences without a break or flaw.”

“It is wonderful!” I cried. “Your merits should be publicly recognized. You should publish an account of the case. If you won’t, I will for you.”

“You may do what you like, Doctor,” he answered.

~ THE SPECKLED BAND ~

It was early in April in the year ‘83 that I woke one morning to find Sherlock Holmes standing, fully dressed, by the side of my bed. He was a late riser, as a rule, and as the clock on the mantelpiece showed me that it was only a quarter-past seven, I blinked up at him in some surprise, and perhaps just a little resentment, for I was myself regular in my habits.

“Very sorry to knock you up, Watson,” said he, “but it’s the common lot this morning. Mrs. Hudson has been knocked up, she retorted upon me, and I on you.”

“What is it, then—a fire?”

“No; a client. It seems that a young lady has arrived in a considerable state of excitement, who insists upon seeing me. She is waiting now in the sitting-room. Now, when young ladies wander about the metropolis at this hour of the morning, and knock sleepy people up out of their beds, I presume that it is something very pressing which they have to communicate. Should it prove to be an interesting case, you would, I am sure, wish to follow it from the outset. I thought, at any rate, that I should call you and give you the chance.”

“My dear fellow, I would not miss it for anything.”

[waiting in the dark for the bad guy to enter]

“The least sound would be fatal to our plans.”

I nodded to show that I had heard.

“We must sit without light. He would see it through the ventilator.”

I nodded again. (...)

“Have your pistol ready in case we should need it. I will sit on the side of the bed, and you in that chair.”

I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner of the table.

Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and this he placed upon the bed beside him.

[all is revealed]

The little which I had yet to learn of the case was told me by Sherlock Holmes as we travelled back next day.

“I had,” said he, “come to an entirely erroneous conclusion which shows, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason from insufficient data.”

~ THE RESIDENT PATIENT ~

It had been a close, rainy day in October. “Unhealthy weather, Watson,” said my friend. “But the evening has brought a breeze with it. What do you say to a ramble though London?”

I was weary of our little sitting room and gladly acquiesced. For three hours we strolled about together, watching the ever-changing kaleidoscope of life (...) Holmes’ characteristic talk, with its keen observance of detail and subtle power of inference, held me amused and enthralled.

[this time, their client is a doctor]

“Are you not the author of a monograph upon obscure nervous lesions?” I asked.

[Dr. Trevelyan’s] pale cheeks flushed with pleasure at hearing that his work was known to me.

“I so seldom hear of the work that I thought it was quite dead,” said he. “My publishers gave me a most discouraging account of its sale. You are yourself, I presume, a medical man?”

~ THE NOBLE BACHELOR ~

I had remained indoors all day, for the weather had taken a sudden turn to rain, with high autumnal winds, and the Jezail bullet which I had brought back in one of my limbs as a relic of my Afghan campaign throbbed with dull persistence. With my body in one easy-chair and my legs upon another, I had surrounded myself with a cloud of newspapers until at last, saturated with the news of the day, I tossed them all aside and lay listless, watching the huge crest and monogram upon the envelope upon the table and wondering lazily who my friend’s noble correspondent could be.

“Here is a very fashionable epistle,” I remarked as he entered. “Your morning letters, if I remember right, were from a fish-monger and a tide-waiter.”

“Yes, my correspondence has certainly the charm of variety,” he answered, smiling, “and the humbler are usually the more interesting. This looks like one of those unwelcome social summonses which call upon a man either to be bored or to lie.”

[their new client is extremely posh]

“Good-day, Lord St. Simon,” said Holmes, rising and bowing. “Pray take the basket-chair. This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson. Draw up a little to the fire, and we will talk this matter over.”

“A most painful matter to me, as you can most readily imagine, Mr. Holmes. I have been cut to the quick. I understand that you have already managed several delicate cases of this sort, sir, though I presume that they were hardly from the same class of society.”

“No, I am descending.”

“I beg pardon.”

“My last client of the sort was a king.”

[everything turns out well]

“Draw your chair up and hand me my violin, for the only problem we have still to solve is how to while away these bleak autumnal evenings.”

~ THE REGIATE SQUIRES ~

On referring to my notes, I see that it was upon the 14th of April that I received a telegram from Lyons which informed me that Holmes was lying ill in the Hotel Dulong. Within twenty-four hours I was in his sick-room, and was relieved to find that there was nothing formidable in his symptoms. Even his iron constitution, however, had broken down under the strain of an investigation which had extended over two months, during which period he had never worked less than fifteen hours a day, and had more than once, as he assured me, kept to his task for five days at a stretch.

Even the triumphant issue of his labors could not save him from reaction after so terrible an exertion, and at a time when Europe was ringing with his name and when his room was literally ankle-deep with congratulatory telegrams I found him a prey to the blackest depression. Even the knowledge that he had succeeded where the police of three countries had failed, and that he had outmaneuvered at every point the most accomplished swindler in Europe, was insufficient to rouse him from his nervous prostration.

Three days later we were back in Baker Street together; but it was evident that my friend would be much the better for a change, and the thought of a week of spring time in the country was full of attractions to me also. My old friend, Colonel Hayter, who had come under my professional care in Afghanistan, had now taken a house near Reigate in Surrey, and had frequently asked me to come down to him upon a visit. On the last occasion he had remarked that if my friend would only come with me he would be glad to extend his hospitality to him also. A little diplomacy was needed, but... [Holmes] fell in with my plans (...)

On the evening of our arrival we were sitting in the Colonel’s gun-room after dinner, Holmes stretched upon the sofa, while Hayter and I looked over his little armory of Eastern weapons.

[Colonel Hayter mentions some suspicious local burglaries]

Holmes grunted from the sofa. “The county police ought to make something of that,” said he; “why, it is surely obvious that—”

But I held up a warning finger.

“You are here for a rest, my dear fellow. For Heaven’s sake don’t get started on a new problem when your nerves are all in shreds.”

Holmes shrugged his shoulders with a glance of comic resignation towards the Colonel, and the talk drifted away into less dangerous channels. ~

[and thank you again @niche-pastiche for the excellent idea!]

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beeftony · 4 years

Text

Just saw the most frigid take on Ava from Borderlands 3, and while I’m not going to link to the video, it hits on a lot of common arguments that are, in my opinion, total bullshit. Spoilers for Borderlands 3 after the cut.

Argument One: Ava is “Annoying”

A common thread in the discourse surrounding Ava is that her character plays too hard into the “teenage rebel” archetype, and that this becomes grating because she doesn’t receive any major character development over the course of the main game (the writers have promised an expanded role for her in future DLC). Other people, like myself, found her to be relatable and a good source of humor when it comes to embarrassing stuff that teenagers get up to. Which side of the fence people fall on has a lot to do with how they interpret the sidequest where you have to find her diary. The voice actor said she found that quest to be extremely compelling because that sort of thing literally happened to her, and personally I found Ava’s bluster and unconvincing claims that the traumatic and mortifying experiences detailed in said diary were “metaphors” to be simultaneously funny and, while embarrassing for her, something that brought me closer to the character.

Admittedly, there are a litany of scenes in which Ava acts unreasonable, bratty, and completely immature. My counterargument is this: would you expect a real teenager to act any differently? Teenagers are walking balls of cringe, and you just kinda have to accept that and figure out what they’re really trying to say underneath all that attitude. She’s “annoying” because she’s supposed to be, and because it gives her something to grow beyond later. In an interview on The Borderlands Show, the lead writer compared her to Luke Skywalker at the beginning of Star Wars: A New Hope. Mark Hamill has stated that he intentionally made Luke’s voice and mannerisms more whiny to better showcase how his character matures past that later. The reason people are so hung up on Ava at this point is because we haven’t really gotten there yet.

Argument Two: Maya’s Death Was Ava’s “Fault”

The video that prompted this post made the argument that Ava’s character “doesn’t work” because she spends all her time blaming everyone else for Maya’s death while ignoring her own role, and that she would have been better served by having the other characters call her on it and get her to admit it was her fault.

First off, as Tannis puts it, what happened to Maya was Troy Calypso’s fault, and would likely have happened whether Ava was there or not (a bigger plot hole is why the Vault Hunter doesn’t get to do anything in that scene since you’re literally in the same room, but whatever). The whole purpose of Maya’s death is 1) to establish the Calypso Twins as a legitimate threat, and 2) to introduce the fact that siren powers can be passed on. Honestly, given a lot of the background hints involving Maya dreaming about Nyriad and choosing Ava as her apprentice because she knew that Ava would be a siren someday, it’s almost like she planned for it to happen, even if she didn’t know the exact set of circumstances that would lead to her death.

Secondly, are you seriously telling me it would have been better storytelling if these characters, all of whom are grown adults, looked at this grieving teenage girl who was realistically lashing out in pain after going through an extremely traumatic experience, and told her the whole thing was her fault? What kind of person does that? A lot of them might be assholes, but they’re not that bad.

Argument Three: Ava is a Mary Sue

I’ve seen this in a lot of places, not just the video I watched, but said video literally called Ava a Mary Sue/Self Insert completely unironically just because she was instantly proficient with Maya’s powers and was handed command of Sanctuary by Lilith after supposedly not “earning” it.

First off, let’s acknowledge that the definition of “Mary Sue” has been stretched so far past its original meaning that it’s basically a misogynist dogwhistle at this point. Second, how the fuck is a teenage girl a “Self Insert” for a writing team that consists of four middle-aged men? That’s not what either of those terms mean, and it’s disingenuous to use them in the context of character analysis.

The classic hallmarks of a Mary Sue are not at all present in Ava’s character. She doesn’t represent the author, the story doesn’t warp to focus only on her (as much as she plays an important role, there are in fact other characters who get an equal amount of time to shine in ways that don’t involve her at all), and just because a character is competent or gets handed an important leadership position, that doesn’t mean it’s unearned.

For example, Maya’s powers. It’s very firmly established that Ava has lived with Maya for several years at this point. All those training exercises Maya has her do, like “staring into water for a thousand hours” can be interpreted as Karate-Kid style “wax on, wax-off” training to get her ready to take on these new powers. On top of which, it’s established siren lore that the powers are instinctual, and training only enhances one’s efficacy with them. It’s not that big a stretch to imagine she’d get the hang of them relatively quickly.

As for the Sanctuary thing, going back to that same interview with the lead writer, he stated that Lilith did that out of respect for Maya, because Maya saw something in Ava. It has nothing to do with whether or not Ava “earned” it. And while some might see that as a problem, I’ll remind you that Lilith didn’t do anything to earn it either. The responsibility just fell to her, and she went with it. We’ll see where Ava goes from here.

tl;dr just say you hate teenage girls and shut up.

#borderlands 3 #ava

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light-of-being · 5 years

Text

05.02.19 (treading tentatively forward)

Today was good. Long, exhausting, but good.

Last year was really hard for me and I spent pretty much all of it in survival mode, which is kind of just a sad way to live and was bad for my academics, leadership roles, etc, although I accept that there was no other way at the time. I can confidently say that I’m probably a lot better at coping now than I was before. But I wanted to take a more proactive approach this year -- to live more...intentionally, so to speak. To kinda build a life beyond just survival.

My main concerns were around energy and being able to do this without just collapsing entirely. I find it hard to imagine successfully sustaining studies, health and household tasks simultaneously. But perhaps I’m just being excessively miserly with my energy and I should just allow myself to be tired, to do things beyond the point of exhaustion, and then rest. I’ve been afraid that the rest wouldn’t help, that the exhaustion would become paralysing, as it often has. But the truth is, I haven’t allowed myself to reach that point in a long time because I’ve been afraid, so I don’t actually know whether that still holds at all. I might just be able to be achy and tired, get a really good sleep, and then get up and live another full day. I’m going to experiment with that, let’s see how that goes.

I got books from the library last week, but I didn’t get very far with reading them (probably coz they were slightly dense and not-so-slightly boring and depressing). So I returned those today, and got new ones that I’m actually excited about, intend to, and actually expect to read. I made deliberate efforts to pick out those that are accessible and/or noncommittal, such as a collection of short pieces that I can approach and abandon easily while still having appreciable gains.

I spoke to a therapist while on campus about problems in the general direction of this post. It was actually quite fruitful. I expressed a lot of concern about disintegration/falling apart/losing control that comes with the swamp of uncertainty surrounding my dissociation and my history of experiencing such. The sense of stumbling in the dark. I won’t pretend that I feel any more confident in being able to hold it together, but I do feel more willing to have faith. I’m slowly becoming more comfortable with the idea that I’ve rarely actually put shit behind me, but rather fled from them, that I still carry the corpses of all of myself that I’ve killed. She said we need to explore that and the past more the next time. I agree, I think. I’m still not sure what that’s meant to achieve, but I’m slightly less sure it’d be a waste of time. She says I need to put down the corpses to make space for those I’ll collect in the future, if I think that’s going to happen. Which seems fair, although I’m not certain speaking about them will put them down any better.

I took some time out yesterday to exercise (active) self-compassion. Most of my recollections and thoughts of the past had been so tainted by the visceralness, terror of recurrence and uncanny sense of similar-but-other, that I’d never bothered to look back at those stranger selves as people of their own right. I mean, if they were actually strangers, I would probably have responded to them with empathy and support, but all I was doing to myself was recoiling. So I extended to them an olive branch of sorts. Forgave them for not making it through, appreciated them for doing their best nevertheless. Promised kindness and greater support henceforth. Which was, in turn, inductively comforting to me.

But I was also angry. Very angry. At my parents, my bullies, everything that had put me in these positions. People whom I’d thought I’d long forgiven, although I’d never even properly given myself a chance to be angry at them. I’d jumped to “they did their best and didn’t know any better” type of thinking and knew I couldn’t reeeally blame them for it if I was applying my own approaches consistently. Never mind that I’d only just grokked after yeeears that this hadn’t been my fault, that it wasn’t due to anything being fundamentally wrong and horrible about me, that they were just...fucked up, and were in fact doing this to everyone. That this was wrong.

I felt, last night, the same kind of mental shift I did long ago when I moved from “slavery was 30 years ago we need to move on coz it doesn’t matter anymore” to “wow no this is still affecting every part of people’s lives and will continue to, we can’t just ignore it”. The same kind of bitterness I see when people talk about how a lot of white people in this country never apologised, still look back to apartheid nostalgically, don’t begin to accept any responsibility or even understanding of the harm they caused...and yet we’ve “forgiven” them and “reconciled”.

Idk. I’ma write out a lengthy exposition of exactly what they did and how it affected me at some stage. I wanted to send it to my mother, or even my father, but sensibly, I probably won’t. It won’t have any productive benefit: while I’d really like them to understand and accept responsibility, I’ll almost certainly get only invalidation and hostility. Soo I’ll probably just write it for my own sanity and hopefully at some point (actually) let go.

So yeah. I’m working on things. This morning I also joined tai chi again, conditional upon being able to opt out of physical contact and social chit-chat things. I bought pretty candles that I look forward to using for meditation things and general niceness. I finally got around to buying a lace curtain so I can open the dark ones without rendering my entire room exposed to the fkin street, and I swear, the outside light transforms the ambience. It’s the best thing. I like light, a lot. I’ve set up my journal for this month, and it’s very pretty and welcoming. My bursars emailed today confirming that they’ll fund me again for this year, which although was expected from the T&Cs, brought a huge sense of relief for my financial state.

Classes start on Monday. I’m very slightly anxious about the workload and the fact that it’s final year and everything counts A Great Deal, but the content seems really cool. I dropped my maths course last year because I was overwhelmed by my own head, and I think that contributed to reduced stability and grounding. I’ma be doing it this year, which is nice. Algebra was pretty cool while I was doing it before I dropped, and Discrete Maths has always been exciting.

Applied cognitive psychology seems overall like a very exciting course. It covers stuff including neural networks, decision making, memory in forensics, clinical cognition and evolutionary cognitive psychology. There’s also an Actual Research Project done in groups: complete with research proposal and poster, and the power to grant kids course credits for partaking...which is in equal parts extremely fkin cool and absolutely terrifying.

Computer science has been said to be challenging, which is probably nice (and also, again, slightly scary). We’re doing more in-depth and probably more complex things like networks and operating systems, which is cool and superior to the largely superficial programming stuff we’ve spent so long on. I enjoyed last semester (concurrency, computer architecture, etc -- conceptual things) so this should probably be good as well.

I’m looking forward to the structure of lectures and the purposefulness of having assignments etc to do. I’ve also been reminded (again today) how much I like my (very beautiful) campus and how it brings me a sense of peace and belonging (generally when there’s nobody else there, not when scared new first years are anxiously attending everything...but anyway).

Things are, for now...okay. I’ve always liked beginnings. I’m willing to try. I’m holding out a tentative hope.

#personal #life update #positive #reflections #long post

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apparitionism · 6 years

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Helicobacter 5

I swear up and down, on any and all books, holy or no, that the bulk of this part, and in particular its opening scene, was written well before last weekend. Five people know why I need to offer this disclaimer. Well, six, I guess... anyway, I really think the lesson is that you should always buy the flowers. People like flowers. Then again, they do also like books, so, you know, giver’s choice. In other news, there is a lot of chaff here in this part, but I’m a little tired and haven’t had the time or attentive energy to do the brutal edit I’d prefer. Part 1, part 2, part 3, and part 4 were more svelte.

Helicobacter 5

Given that the point of the exercise was to put on a show for Myka’s mother, Helena thought that she would be well served by performing “fiancée” more competently than she had done in the past. That required a consideration of what the mother of her intended might want to see... a gesture, no doubt, but not just any gesture. Something effortful seemed called for.

In Helena’s experience, mothers liked flowers. Her own mother certainly did. But flowers alone were insufficiently effortful; they could be ordered online, and that would not do. Instead, Helena went to a florist and contributed (mainly nods of assent, but even so) to the assembly of a bouquet. Then, spurred by a desire to outdo—someone, or something, although who or what that might have been, she did not know—she chose the components of a second.

On the appointed day, at the appointed time, her hands overflowing with flowers, she waited at Myka’s door.

Too much. Of course so many flowers were too much, and that fact became ever more clear to her as she waited, and she began to wonder why Myka found it necessary to live in a building featuring a hallway that failed to present any good and hidden space where the overeager faux-affianced might be able to dispose of a spray of peonies, hydrangeas, and daisies—or, on (in) the other hand, a more romantic collection of roses, tulips, and lilies.

But then Myka opened the door, and the sight of her was a pulse-quickening delight, such that Helena forgot about flowers entirely and had to remind herself of her purpose here: not to gaze with appreciation, but rather to deploy some fiction of that gaze... but she did feel that she could take some pleasure in the fact that Myka looked so well. “You look so well,” Helena allowed herself to say.

“I feel well. Your hands are full.”

“They are.”

A throat-clear from behind Myka reminded Helena, and seemed to remind Myka as well, why they were in a circumstance that allowed them to stand and look at each other. “This is my mom, Jeannie Bering,” Myka said as she stepped aside to let Helena in.

“Mrs. Bering. It’s lovely to meet you. I mean, to meet you at last,” Helena said. Myka’s mother looked to be in her early sixties, and she dressed to complement, not fight against, her graying hair. Not too youthful, yet not surrendering... she was by no means nondescript, but neither was she her striking, bone-china-fine daughter. Genes and their actions are mystifying but if this is the result then hallelujah, Helena found herself thinking, and she very nearly said aloud, “Thank you so much for this mystery you produced.” Instead, she unburdened herself of the peony-hydrangea-daisy bouquet and said, “These are for you.” She was pleased to see Myka’s mother smile.

“And these?” Myka asked, with a nod at the second. Did she sound hopeful?

“You can’t possibly need to ask.” Helena leaned over and kissed Myka’s cheek, as she had done before the endoscopy; as Myka had kissed her, after the hospital. So chastely intimate, this kissing they did.

The rose-tulip-lily handoff was slightly awkward: a which-hand-to-which-hand problem. Then the aftermath became slightly awkward: a should-we-be-speaking-to-each-other-instead-of-staring-at-each-other problem.

Myka’s mother saved them. “Thank you, Helena. These are lovely,” she said, and then she gestured with her bouquet at her daughter. “Enjoy this while it lasts, Myka. Your father hasn’t brought me flowers since our first anniversary.”

Helena considered that showing up the father of her fiancée might have constituted a small misstep in her performance.

Myka gestured back at her mother with her own flowers and said, “This is the kind of thing she does.” To Helena, she said, “It’s the kind of thing you do. Isn’t it.”

“With you it is,” Helena said.

“I hope it’s only with me.”

That had to have been for her mother’s benefit, so Helena tried to answer in kind. “As far as I know. As far as I can imagine.” She tried to ignore the fact that what she was saying was true. How most of the words that she said to Myka were true. She went on, “She’s sent me flowers as well, Mrs. Bering. I take my cue from her good example.”

“Call me Jeannie,” said Myka’s mother to Helena, and to Myka, “this one certainly is a sweet talker.” Helena couldn’t determine whether that was meant to be criticism or praise.

“By the way,” Myka said to Helena, “I got you a book.” She handed Helena a paperback. Face-down.

“Myka,” said her mother, and this was unmistakably criticism, “just because you grew up in a bookstore, that’s no reason to fall back on giving a book as a gift. Particularly to someone who brings you flowers.”

Helena turned the book over. Apprehended the title and cover art. Said to Myka a long-suffering “Really?” in an only partly feigned tone of beleaguered affection. Said then, to Jeannie, “She hasn’t given me a book. She’s given me David Foster Wallace’s Consider the Lobster.” She wanted to ask, of Myka, “You grew up in a bookstore?” But a fiancée would have known that already. We should have rehearsed, she thought, and then, given where her thoughts immediately went, Not like that.

Myka, as if reading Helena’s mind, said, “You can put it with The Odyssey on your nightstand,” in a voice so smooth and smoke-low that Helena herself nearly believed they had held exactly that rehearsal after all. Possibly having read passages from The Odyssey to set the mood.

Jeannie told Myka, “You don’t need to speak in code. I think I understand that you’re familiar with Helena’s bedroom.”

“Mom,” said Myka, sounding a note that combined conciliation with teenage mortification.

Helena, thinking both to calm herself and to ease Myka’s discomfiture, held the book’s cover up to show Jeannie what it depicted. “It is indisputable that this creature is large and has claws, is it not?”

Perhaps genes were not so puzzling after all: Jeannie’s poker-faced blink was exactly like her daughter’s.

“Then I assure you,” Helena went on, “if a bedroom is the context, this constitutes an attempt by your daughter to invade my nightmares.”

“Helena,” Myka said.

And just like that, Helena realized that she had never before heard Myka say her name. “Myka,” she said in response, trying it out as a response.

A knock on the door interrupted their renewed should-we-be-speaking-to-each-other-instead-of-staring-at-each-other awkwardness.

Rick, of course. “You lovely boy!” Jeannie exclaimed upon seeing him, and Helena felt that her flowers had been erased. But Jeannie then said, “You’re almost as lovely as these flowers!”

And Helena preened: Rick had not brought anyone flowers. He was, however, able to say, with an easy familiarity, “Hey, Mrs. B. Long time. How’s Mr. B?”, and Helena was acutely aware that she could never have done that. Would never be able to do that.

But she was gratified by the fact that Myka held her place by her side, allowing Rick and Jeannie to renew their acquaintance. She murmured to Myka, “I can now say with certainty that your mother and I have never met before.”

Myka murmured back, “She sighed and said the words about destiny, but that was before I broke the news about you. About us. Then she asked me if you really existed. Then she asked me if I’d told Rick that you existed, and she’s coal-in-her-stocking disappointed about not getting to see any fireworks surrounding that reveal.”

Helena couldn’t contain a bark of laughter. “Isn’t one supposed to dislike one’s in-laws? You’re making it very difficult for me to dislike your mother.”

“You should be thankful that I talked her out of the idea of all of us—her, me, you, and Rick—telling my father about you tonight in some kind of teleconference situation. He’s on a fishing trip, by the way, and I think she was counting on all kinds of bad-connection monkeyshines, plus Dad hates technology anyway, everything that came after movable type. I’m always better off writing him a letter when anything’s going on.”

“Perhaps you could write him a book to sell in the store you grew up in,” Helena said.

“Sorry for not mentioning.”

“We should have run full background checks on each other. Then again, the likelihood of awkward revelations...” That won Helena a smirk. “Even in the absence of the revelations and the awkwardness, I do see, quite clearly, why you needed me to be here.”

“I appreciate it,” Myka told her. “The fact that you see it, and the fact that you’re here. I appreciate it so much, in fact, that I also didn’t cook lobster. Intentionally.”

“Would you have? Otherwise?”

“Probably not.”

“You are solicitous in a way I don’t fully understand.”

An unusual expression, one that Helena could not read other than as “not negative,” visited Myka’s face. “Don’t freak out, but I’m going to hug you now,” she said, and she did just that: hugged Helena.

For all their strange intimacy, they had never been body-to-body before. It was only a quick clasp, and Helena had of course hugged several people in the past, and vice versa, for example most recently when celebrating the awarding of the contract, weeks before. Quick clasps. None of those had set her on fire; ergo, this one was not doing so either.

She heard, from somewhere outside her not-at-all inflamed body, Jeannie announcing to Rick, “You saved Myka’s life!” As if this would be news to him.

To his credit, Rick said, “Not exactly. But I definitely owed her, so I’m glad I could help.”

“It must have been so frightening for everyone. And of course Myka’s father and I would have been concerned as well if we’d been told in a timely fashion.”

Myka said, placating, “I told you I’m sorry, and I’ll keep telling you, but like I also told you, it happened so fast. Helena and Rick can vouch for that. And then it was pretty much over.”

Helena tried to help but managed only, “It was fast.” Then she gritted out, “But Rick knew exactly what he was doing. I can’t imagine she could have had better care.”

“That’s nice of you to say,” Rick said, sounding wary.

“It is nice,” Myka affirmed. She sounded not at all wary. “And it was nice having both of you there. I felt very protected.”

He had indeed taken good care of Myka. And if Myka could be philosophical, here in the present situation, about the past she shared with him, Helena had no reason to take any position at all regarding the present situation. She had no reason to take any position at all, regardless of Myka’s feelings about the past. No reason. No reason.

Myka and her mother repaired to the kitchen, ostensibly to finish preparing the food, but perhaps also so Jeannie could offer an initial comparative verdict regarding Myka’s choices, past and present, of romantic partners. At that point, Rick rounded on Helena. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

“Something that Myka asked me to do. So keep your voice down, please.”

He pressed his lips together, narrowed his eyes. Then he let the tension go. He leaned closer to her and whispered, “Why didn’t you just tell her I know the truth?”

“Thank you,” Helena acknowledged. “Why? For the same reason I said you should not tell it to her: I thought it would hurt her.”

“Are you still trying to lift that Volkswagen? Or are you actually dating now? What’s going on?”

“I don’t believe that’s your business.”

“When it comes to Myka, it is.”

“No... I don’t believe so.” He looked as if he would protest, so Helena said, “What I mean is that despite your history, whatever she is doing now is not your business. And not my business, either. Please, let her make the choices. You shouldn’t, and I shouldn’t. Besides, this has more to do with her mother than with you or with me.”

Rick didn’t answer. Helena couldn’t determine whether his breathing indicated that they had called a truce. Finally, he said, “I don’t get you.” Not dismissive; he said it as a statement of fact.

“Likewise,” Helena told him. “Fortunately, it doesn’t matter. Can we get through this meal, and let that be an end?”

“This meal....” Rick shook his head, then raised his hands in surrender. “Just for Myka, though. Not because you and I are suddenly friends or anything.”

“Agreed: for Myka, and you and I are by no means suddenly friends. Or anything. By the way, do you like lobster?” Helena asked.

“What? Yeah, I like lobster.”

“Well, that won’t help.”

****

While they ate their non-lobster dinner, Helena found herself faced with the history—and physical reality—of Myka and Rick together. He’d kissed her cheek not long after he arrived, stranding Helena in a “how dare you” loop, despite her knowing full well that he had far more right than she herself did. They kept turning into a couple, Myka and Rick did—a club, as they had in those very first hospital moments, their association off-limits to Helena. Just like the hospital, only now, Myka’s mother was part of the club; they all reminisced about Colorado, about people and circumstances and even objects to which Helena had no access: “The ping-pong table!” “Is the comic book store on Monroe still there?” “Can you believe Denny Cloud lives in Argentina now? And has six kids?” All Helena had to reminisce with Myka about was “the time you found out you had cancer.”

But after (Helena had to admit) not too very much of that, Myka reached over and took Helena’s hand. “That’s enough about the past,” she said.

Rick looked at their hands. As he had in those later hospital moments. Then he said, “Am I really supposed to act like I don’t know things I know?” He gazed right at Helena, not quite challenging her, as he spoke.

“I don’t think that’s what I said,” Myka told him.

“That is not what you said,” Helena noted. She gazed at Rick in return. “But occasionally it might be important to act like one does not know the things one knows. To keep the peace?” She moved her eyes meaningfully, but as subtly as she could, in Myka’s direction.

He compressed his lips at her. But: “To keep the peace,” he allowed.

Helena found it rather funhouse-mirror that she was conspiring with two different people this evening, to accomplish two different—even diametrically opposed—aims. Did that make her a double agent? Did it make Rick one as well?

Myka’s mother chose that moment to say, to Helena and to Rick, “You two are so similar.”

“What?” they said, in unison, leaving Helena, and judging by his expression, Rick also, unpleased to have illustrated her point.

Jeannie smiled. “Let’s start with this truce you’ve clearly struck,” she said. “I see that it’s for Myka’s benefit—and for mine—and I see also that you’re doing reasonably well, the both of you. Then again I get a sense you might both prefer the more direct approach of throwing punches, and I just wanted to make sure you know I wouldn’t stop you. Myka might, but she’s always been more sentimental than I am.”

Rick shook his head and touched his fingers to his upper lip, pressing against his hidden teeth. Then he smiled. “You haven’t changed one bit, Mrs. B.”

“Mom,” Myka said. “First, you’re the most sentimental person in this room. And second, if they want to punch each other, they’re adults.” She shot a little glance at Helena and said, “They can make their own ill-considered choices.” With another glance, she added, “Besides, they’re plenty different. One particularly salient way.”

Here it comes, Helena thought. She had tried not to dwell on how, in her initial clumsy haste to claim this relationship with Myka, she had not considered that Myka might not respond well to the idea of being engaged to a woman. And despite Myka’s having found it conceptually acceptable, Helena hadn’t been able to determine where Myka’s orientation did reside. The fact of the matter was that whenever their bodies touched, Helena involuntarily drew a conclusion that seemed, in the moment, to be true. But Helena had mistaken the accidental bodily spark of curiosity for truth before, and mistakes of that sort did not end well.

She could never have asked, not about any of it, because if she had asked, Myka would have been likely to suspect that Helena had some investment in knowing. And since this was all fiction, what could justify such an investment? Nothing, nothing, nothing, and now less than nothing, now that even the fiction was so unwise to maintain. Beyond this evening, certainly, so unwise.

Myka’s one salient difference was, in the end, completely unhelpful in every respect: “Rick doesn’t do urban design; Helena isn’t a doctor,” she said. Helena wanted, unreasonably, to shake her for being unforthcoming, and then again for stating the obvious.

Her mother did not shake Myka, but she did say, in the most dry of tones, “Thank you for stating the obvious. You might as well have gone with ‘he’s a man; she’s a woman.’” Jeannie really was making it quite difficult for Helena to dislike her. She went on, “Besides, young lady, that former difference might not be so salient. Don’t we talk about building bodies? Don’t we say that cities have hearts?”

Helena was the one to blink this time. “That seems rather right. The heart of a city might be neighborhood, a cluster—”

“But hearts have valves,” Rick said. It read a bit self-satisfied, as if he’d caught her out, but also a bit teenage, catching out Jeannie, the adult.

Myka groaned. She dropped Helena’s hand so she could clap her hands over her ears. “Don’t mention valves. So. Many. Valve. Replacements. I might as well be in valve planning. The water system. Sewage. The waste-to-energy plant. HVAC in every building. Strip nozzles on the de-icing trucks. Everywhere. If anything urban goes bust, you can bet there are going to be expensive valves involved. Valves should be a line item in the budget. And no health insurance to defray the cost, either.”

“But isn’t that taxes?” Helena objected.

“Ssh. I’m disputing the metaphor.”

“No, just the source of the monies. You’re saying that everything is valves, which is true, in the sense that it is, of an anatomical heart, but that the monies—”

“Ssh.” And Myka’s finger was suddenly against Helena’s lips, and that was provocation of a very physical sort. Practically body-to-body in its effect.

Helena had never before wanted to be both exactly where she was and somewhere else entirely, with the same person doing the same thing. Disorienting.

“Here are two things I dare you to dispute,” Jeannie said. “First, that we’re relieved the cancer was so easily treatable, and second, we’re almost as relieved that it wasn’t any hereditary kind.”

Rick said, “First one okay. But the second.... I’m not saying I’m disputing it, but I don’t get why the hereditary thing has us relieved.”

Helena caught herself nodding along with him. She stopped nodding immediately.

Jeannie said, “Because then it isn’t my fault that she got it, so she can’t blame me. That’s certainly a relief. Plus, I’m unlikely to get it. Given that I didn’t have it to pass on.”

“You could swallow the same bacteria I did,” Myka told her.

“You don’t have to swallow it,” Rick said. “We’re not entirely sure how the infection—”

“Why won’t anybody let me make a point?” Myka interrupted. Helena noticed that she did not put a finger against Rick’s lips. “Anyway, maybe whatever I did to get it, that’s what’s genetic, the tendency to do that, and it can strike whenever. So you should watch out, Mom.”

“For stray bacteria,” Jeannie said. Very dry, yet again.

Myka said, “You never know what’s going to hit you.”

“I can attest,” Helena said, recalling the ambulance.

“Also a lot of people get infected in childhood,” Rick said. “H. pylori can bide its time for decades.”

“Setting aside the insult to my parenting that I hear hiding somewhere in there, you’re saying Myka was a ticking time bomb? In whatever sense you’d like to take that, by the way.”

Rick tilted his head and said “that seems right” at the same moment Helena raised an eyebrow and offered “I suspect so.” They looked at each other; Rick’s lips thinned, and Helena sat back and crossed her arms with a sigh. Jeannie said nothing, but her smile was easily legible as smug.

“We have very different feelings about lobsters,” Helena informed her.

Jeannie’s smug smile turned sly. “But what about nightstands?”

Myka, who had turned her attention to the contents of her wineglass, began to cough. “Mom, seriously,” she said. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t scare her off.”

“Speaking of scaring her off,” Rick said, “or maybe the opposite, who knows, but you know what I’ve been wondering? How you two decided to make it official. Because it seemed really—I don’t know—sudden. From my perspective. So Helena, why don’t you tell me?”

You are doing this because Myka asked for your help, Helena told herself, thus punching him in the face is not an option. Then again, Jeannie had indicated that she would find exactly that sort of fireworks entertaining... yet he was sticking to the letter of their agreement, such as it was. Further, punching was in a physical family with kneeing, and Helena was trying not to do that anymore. She bared her teeth at him and began, “We met through work. As you know. And something unexpected happened. We became... close. Unexpectedly close. Unexpectedly quickly. And we thought it wise to declare our intentions to each other. Before work exhausted us both to such an extent that we forgot what those intentions were, that is.”

Myka said, “We were so wise. Look at all this wisdom.”

Her gaze at Helena might reasonably have been described as “adoring,” and under that gaze, Helena said, “It happened so quickly that I barely believed it was real.” If only that adoring gaze could have been real... “Even now,” Helena said, with honesty, “I can’t quite believe it.”

Jeannie remarked, “That’s very like what Myka said.”

“Is it?” Helena said. “I suppose we were both surprised. One doesn’t expect, on any given day, to find someone to... talk to. And to look at. With appreciation for both. And to realize you want to—come home to that.” One didn’t expect such things. And one needed to be very careful about imagining that one’s nonexistent expectations had so unexpectedly been met.

“That’s lovely,” Jeannie now said, and her tone was not dry at all.

Myka nodded. “It is,” she said. “And I completely agree with all of it.” The adoration directed Helena’s way had intensified, and if only that could have been something other than an act—or rather, if only they could have had the space to find out whether it could become something other than an act. Rather, whether, other. Nothing was likely to bring about such a not-this state of affairs.

Rick clearly did not share such a wish, for he gave an exaggerated sigh and said, “Please stop.”

“You’re the one who asked how it happened,” Myka said with a shrug. “Don’t blame me if what you get makes you jealous.”

“This is not what you used to be like,” Rick told her. To Helena, he said, “This is not what she used to be like,” and finally, to Jeannie, he directed a plaintive, “Is it?”

“Don’t worry,” Jeannie said. She pat his cheek, and how familiar a motion it was; how accustomed. “You’ll find a young lady of your own. Look at you!”

I would rather not look at him, Helena thought. I would in fact rather look at Myka. For quite some time. And talk to her as well. But that would be a not-this state of affairs, and that cannot happen.

Rick left soon after their non-lobster dinner concluded, and Helena, although tempted to overstay, made to follow him out. But she found herself in unavoidable proximity to Myka in the apartment’s small foyer, and it did seem that, as Myka’s putative romantic partner, she should do something... romantic. Given, in particular, that Myka’s mother was watching. (Discreetly, not staring, and Helena appreciated that.) She thought to fall back on their customary cheek-kiss, but even as she moved close, she saw—felt—that it was insufficient. There would have to be more. “Is this all right?” she exhaled, close to Myka’s ear.

Myka sighed out a breath of yes, and then she turned her head and the kiss was inevitable.

Helena meant it to be quick, light, a performance of “we have kissed before and will kiss again and so this particular kiss is of no great importance.”

But they had not kissed before, and Helena thought, There is a reason I am not an actor, for the quick, light performance of whatever kiss this was supposed to be became instead the kiss it was: first. So long-awaited, so finally, so soft, so warm, so her mouth and my mouth; it could have gone on and on... and on and on... but she was here to help, not to make everything worse. She pulled away. Not far enough, though, for she and Myka were caught, staring, breathing.

Kissing her again would be, Helena saw with great clarity, a bad idea. But such a good bad idea, and what could one more kiss matter when one had already been too much?

What could it matter that when Helena moved forward again, Myka did too? What could it matter that Myka’s hands pushed their way up Helena’s arms, that those hands romanced their way into Helena’s hair? What could it matter than while Helena had thought the first kiss stirring, now each pulse of her blood was warmer than the last, each beat raising the temperature of her heart, her body entire? Something original animated this kiss, something Helena had never experienced before—not the revelatory surprise of a teenage kiss, when intimacy itself could feel new, but instead, a connection offering a far more mature, beckoning sense of deep possibility...

...but then it was not original at all, and certainly not unique to the two of them: expressive of a wish to move in ways familiarly of the body, ways not fit for a well-appointed apartment foyer under bright shine of a tasteful light fixture...

They broke apart.

Helena felt hot lungsful of air enter and leave her body through her mouth. She stared, and Myka stared back.

Mindfulness. Helena closed her mouth and began to breathe through her nose, calming herself, for this had to be the end of it. The strange events had now been brought to their conclusion, logical or otherwise. On this kiss, or on these two kisses, the curtain could fall; their little play had come to its correct end.

“I’ll see you,” Myka said.

“Will you?” Helena asked without thinking. But no matter what Myka said, the real answer would be no.

****

Helena talked herself home, expressing aloud several versions of the reasoned judgment that she was happy—no, relieved—to have got out with only this: this physical knowledge that she and Myka were two wanting bodies that could collide with purpose. That wasn’t too heavy a burden to bear. Rather, it was something to know. People knew all sorts of things, about themselves, about other people, about themselves in relation to other people... about their feelings for other people, about other people’s possible feelings for them, about how those feelings might be expressed in situations involving privacy and...

“Stop,” she admonished herself, still aloud. “You... want her; she has kissed you—once—as if she might.” An inhale, again a ragged lungful. “Want you. That is the situation as it stands tonight, as it will stand tomorrow, and so on until it does not stand that way anymore. No actions will be taken as a result of that situation, because they cannot be taken, so stop.”

She did, at least, stop talking to herself.

At home, Helena did what she always did, whether she needed distraction or not: she worked. Email inbox first, then two employee performance reviews she had been neglecting, then the composition of a rudimentary workflow document for a new office-park project, and then at last the comparative luxury of losing herself, by way of an initial run at that new project, in the soothing complexities of AutoCAD. Constraints and how to work within them... when she had been learning the program as a student, years and years ago, she had spent so much intense time with it that her dreams reflected its black-backgrounded renderings.

Considering dreams made her consider lobsters. But she should not consider lobsters.

Instead, she considered dimensions, materials. Manipulated them. The office park was intended to be small—“but interesting!” the client had insisted—yet all she found herself able to do was build office boxes. She clad the boxes in mirrors, then switched to stone. Ugly boxes, regardless of face. Perfunctory. Nothing interesting... nothing that had come to her quickly. Like hauling a bag of bricks. Heavy dumb bricks. Ones that had been built with over and over, not because they were useful and beautiful, but because no one ever was able to think their way away from them.

Kissing her as if you were drunk in a shadow in a club. Kissing her like that in front of her mother. (Imagining that she kissed you the same way. No one would do that in front of their mother.)

In that state of focused distraction, she heard her doorbell ring. And in that state, she opened her door.

No more distraction: for her focus was now on staring at the person she had so lately kissed (as if drunk in a shadow in a club).

TBC

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #Helicobacter #part 5 #AU week #you know what's funny?#the things we do for love #I bought flowers for my lovely wife today #because you need to show how much you appreciate your nearest and dearest #particularly when they say 'yes go do your ridiculous thing'#and anyway #as I mentioned above #people like flowers

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sonderlivra · 6 years

Note

Are you okay with writing somewhat "edgier" topics like mental illness, etc? Obviously not in a romanticizing or offensive way, but like including themes of it in your works?

Ahhh, this one really made me hesitate. I have dealt with difficult topics like abuse before, but always after some heavy thinking about whether or not I could pull it off in a respectful, educated manner. So I had to do some reading to be able to portray what I ended up writing, hopefully it comes across as believable and not in the slightest romanticized, which is what I always intended.

Thanks for the ask, anon, this was quite a writing exercise! I hope you like it!

Warnings: Depiction of/ discussion about PTSD, one swear word.

Modern AU

———-

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s PTSD?”

Dr. Jaeger put away the medical journal he was reading and looked at his son.

“Where did you hear that, Eren?”

Eren looked away shiftily. “I heard Mum talking to Armin’s Grandpa.’

“I see.”

Taking courage, perhaps, from his calm tone, Eren turned back to his father and continued, “I heard her say Mikasa has it. Is she sick? Is she okay?” He leaned forward and demanded, “Are you giving her medicines for it?”

Dr. Jaeger smiled and lifted Eren up, perching him on the arm of the couch. This was a common occurrence: for years, Eren would come running to his father with some question or the other, and Dr. Jaeger would sit him down and patiently explain what he could to the best of his abilities. Lately that had become more rare, and the man couldn’t help but feel a little sad when he saw that Eren looked like he would soon outgrow the couch arm.

“PTSD is an abbreviation, Eren.”

“Like world wide web?”

“More like Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

Eren’s face brightened. “Oh! What does it stand for?”

“Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

He saw Eren visibly try to grasp the words and latch onto the simplest one. “Stress? She’s stressed?”

Knowing that Eren’s only experience with the word had been related to his mother and an overworked teacher or two, Dr. Jaeger explained gently, “Stress can mean many things, Eren. One of those meanings is the state of having too many emotions to deal with, to the extent that it physically tires or affects you. It can be any emotion -for Mikasa, it’s fear.”

Eren frowned. “She’s scared? But she knows she’s okay now. She knows she has me.”

At that Dr. Jaeger had to smile. “I’m sure she knows, Eren. But you understand how fear works, don’t you? You know how difficult it is to face it and surpass it.” He paused and thought of an example. “Do you remember the crocodile pit at the zoo?”

Eren frowned. “Yes.”

“Do you remember how long it took for you to not be scared of it? Do you remember for how long you had nightmares about it?”

“Yeah.” Another grumble.

“Now, can you imagine the depth of Mikasa’s fear, after what happened to her and to her parents?”

Eren was unnaturally quiet. Dr. Jaeger, if anything, was patient enough, and waited for Eren’s response. Finally, after a long silence, Eren muttered, “I understand.”

“Good.”

Eren flashed a determined gaze at his father. “How can I help?”

Dr. Jaeger thought long and hard before replying. “By reminding her that she is safe, that you are there for her. The fear may make her forget sometimes, but you have to lead her back to you. Gently, you understand. She is already hurting.” Eren nodded vigorously, his eyes shining with solemn intent. “If it gets too bad, come and get me, or your mother, or a responsible adult.”

“So, not Officer Hannes?”

Dr. Jaeger laughed. “Now you’re being cheeky. No, Officer Hannes knows what he’s doing. You can go to him, too.”

“Okay.” A wrinkle of concern still stood between his brows. His father squeezed his shoulder. “I won’t lie to you, Eren. It’ll take time for her to heal, and you have to be patient with her. But eventually… she’ll find her way back.”

“And stay with me forever?”

“For as long as she likes.”

“Forever, then,” Eren nodded.

“Mikasa.” He rapped more urgently on the door. “Mikasa, open the door.”

Silence.

“Miks…” He leaned his forehead on the cold wood. “It’s me. Come on, open the door.” He kept tapping on the door. When he still heard nothing, his voice rose. “Mikasa? Mikasa, open the door.” He began to bang the door with his fist. “Open the damn door, Mikasa. Open the door!”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

And yet, no response.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and stepped back, glancing over his shoulder. None of their friends seemed to have heard him. He turned back to the door and slammed both his hands on it. “Mikasa!”

He thought he heard a low whimper from beyond the door. It could have been his imagination, but he was panicking more with every passing second and he couldn’t take any chances.

“I’m coming in,” he called out loudly. “Stay away from the door, okay?”

If he hoped for a response, he wasn’t satisfied. There was no other sound but for his own heartbeat thundering within him. He took a running start and slammed his side into the door. The flimsy lock gave way immediately and the door swung open with a crash.

And hunched up on the floor, with her chin on her knees and her hands in her hair, was Mikasa.

“Mikasa!” He sank onto his knees right in front of her. Her deep grey eyes were fixed on a single tile of the bathroom floor, and she was rocking back and forth. She seemed lost to her immediate surroundings.

He hadn’t seen her like this in years.

“Hey.” He leaned forward until his face was in her line of sight. “Hey, it’s me,” he said gently.

Her wide, unblinking eyes were still unfocused.

Slowly, carefully, he reached forward and put his hands on her wrists. “Hey, Miks. It’s Eren.”

She finally blinked, and slowly, almost painfully, concentrated her gaze on him. Her jaw trembled and a visible shudder shook her. “E-Eren,” she wheezed. Her face spasmed with agony and shaking words poured out of her mouth. “It’s not safe, they’re here, they’re going to kill us all, it’s not safe, it’s not safe-”

“Hey, hey. They’re gone, remember? You’re fine, now, remember, Mikasa?” He grasped her wrists tighter, steeling himself against the shudders that were rushing through her. “Remember where we are?” He leaned even closer to her and pushed aside a fringe of his messy hair from his forehead, and murmured, “Remember this?”

She was shaking like a leaf now. “N-no, we have to run, we have to hide, it’s not safe-”

“Hey, look.” Slowly, like it was made of glass, he detached one of her hands from her hair and placed it on his forehead instead. “Remember how I got that scar?”

“I -I…”

“I was trying to skateboard, remember? And I hit my head on the pavement? Do you remember how quickly you got me to the hospital? Do you remember how many stitches my dad had to give me?”

Her mouth moved soundlessly.

He shifted his other hand and cupped her face, gently brushing her cheekbone with his thumb. “How many stitches did I have to get, Mikasa?”

A long, tentative moment of silence. Then-

“… Eight.”

Relief surged through his veins and he let out a sigh. “Yes. Eight stitches. Can you count the scars now? Could you do that for me?”

Slowly, still quivering, she nodded. He squeezed her hand warmly. “Let’s count together.”

Softly, as if afraid to touch him, she placed the tip of her finger on the edge of his scar. “One,” they whispered. Her cool fingertip moved. “Two,” he prompted her, and she repeated after him. And slowly, very, very slowly, she counted all eight of the stitches, Eren counting with her all the way.

At the eighth mark, her finger still lingered on his forehead, her jaw was still trembling. He pressed his hand more firmly on her cheek. “Come back to me,” he whispered.

It happened in a moment: she took a deep, shuddering breath, and fell forward into his embrace. She was the strongest person he knew, and yet she seemed extremely delicate as she shook and heaved loud, dry sobs into his chest. He held her close, tight, and rubbed soothing circles on her back. His lips were pressed on her head and his words were muffled, but it was obvious to both of them what he was saying.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s fine, I’m here, I’m here now…”

“Eren,” she wheezed, and the pure agony in her voice seemed to rip through him as well.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he continued, rocking them both together, warming her stone cold limbs. His gaze flitted over the various objects in Mina Carolina’s bathroom, before finally finding what he was looking for.

A pair of sewing scissors glinted from under the bathtub. He had a sudden vision of a bloodstained pair of very similar scissors, lying not far from the outstretched hand of a dead woman. Gritting his teeth, he discreetly kicked the scissors farther into the gap, until it was completely out of sight.

“I’m sorry,” Mikasa whispered.

“It’s okay.” He kissed her on top of her head. “You found your way back.”

“Please stay,” her voice shook.

He kissed her again. “For as long as you need.”

And in the quiet, he heard something that finally made him smile again.

“Forever,” Mikasa said.

A/N: I read up about PTSD as much as I could, but obviously, if you think I’ve made an insensitive/inaccurate mistake, please let me know.

The method Eren uses to get Mikasa out of her episode is a common one used to ground the person and literally lead them back into the present (counting things, etc.) and away from their traumatic past.

Mikasa’s trigger was, as explained, the pair of sewing scissors, in a nod to canon.

Again, her episode is meant to be angst and not romantic at all. Mikasa is suffering and Eren has to help her as well as he can. This is not perfect and far from ideal, but the point is, they are in love, despite her trauma, and not because of it. I hope that’s the sentiment this story leaves you with.

Thanks again for the ask anon, and thanks for reading! :)

#snk #snk fanfiction #eremika #eren x mikasa #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #aot #sorry about the long notes #but i think this one needed it #delivras

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chloegrayportfolio · 3 years

Text

Module One - Creating Meaningful Relationships

Week 3 Peer Interaction Task 1 & 2

Task 1: Turn to the instant inventory on page 67 of the textbook “A Teacher’s Guide to Cognitive Type Theory & Learning Style” and determine your own type preferences.

I thought the Instant Insight Inventory was super fun and interesting to do. I was really looking forward to seeing if I would receive the same personality type I was given when I took the Myers-Briggs 16Personalities test—and I did! I would describe myself as someone who is quiet, sensitive, kind, and prefers to be alone. I focus on and remember lots of detail—even the smallest of things. Another thing I enjoy doing is getting away from reality either by daydreaming in my own head or consuming media (books, music, movies) revolving around lives I wish I could live. The results I received told me that my personality type is INFP—meaning I lean towards introversion, intuition, feeling, and perceiving. The INFP is imaginative, idealistic, reflective, independent, creative, stubborn, and easily hurt. My results did not surprise me at all (as I had predicted them and have received the same results every time I have done a personality test in the past), nor do I have much disagreement with any aspect of my results. The only part of the INFP description I feel as though I really do not fit is creativity. I have never really enjoyed creating art (in any form—stories, poetry, paintings, etc) as much as I enjoy consuming art. I appreciate creativity, I just don’t think of myself as a creator. Other than that, I really related to my results—especially the points about being imaginative as well as easily hurt.

Task 2: First, as a group decide who will be in the introvert group and who will be the extroverts. Then please do the following tasks:

As a teacher, what strategies would work for you to get the best energy you can?

With others of your type in your group, discuss what it feels like to be around a lot of folks who are “opposite” to you. (That is extroverts should say what it feels to like to be around a lot of introverts when you are the only extrovert. Introverts should say what it feels to like to be around a lot of extroverts when you are the only introvert.)

Introverts: make a list of how it feels and post it to the group. “Opposite types” in the group please read the list.

Extroverts: make a list of how it feels and post it to the group. “Opposite types” in the group please read the list.

Refer to your textbook to see how others have done this exercise

Come up with a list of how your type behaves in a classroom. “Opposite types” in the group please read the list.

If you have any questions to ask of your opposite type post them now.

As an introverted teacher, the strategies that would work for me to get the best energy I can would be from within, as introverts have a more internal focus of energy. A strategy I think I would use for this is having allocated in-class silent journaling time, for students to share their reflections of the school-day or school-week with me. Not only would this be a way for the students to internally reflect, benefitting themselves, but it would also help me as an educator to get a deeper understanding of my students’ needs as well as what works for them and what doesn’t. When I’m around a lot of extroverts as the lone introvert, I sometimes feel anxious because I’m worried they will take my silence as me being rude or judgmental—like I don’t want to be there (when that definitely isn’t the case). I can also feel quite awkward and uncomfortable as I usually end up doing things that are out of my comfort zone when I am with extroverts (simply following what they’re doing). I can also feel nervous as extroverts are the type to speak their honest truth rather than tread lightly around the subject, which can be a little stressful for an introvert—especially as an INFP, the personality type prone to sensitivity. However, at the same time I can even feel excited because of the new environments and new experiences I am pushed into.

In a classroom, my type behaves as

Cautious

Considerate

Quiet

Thoughtful

Respectful

Private

My question to any of the extroverts: Do you have any tips you would give to inspire the more introverted, quiet kids to participate openly in classroom discussions?

Week 2 Progress Log:

When do you feel…

Safe:

I feel safe when I can stand up and stretch in the morning without my health issues acting up and feeling pain in my chest or seeing stars in my eyes.

The actions I take to make sure I am feeling safe include keeping a glass of orange juice alongside my bottle of water on my nightstand, making sure I have antacids on me at all times, and keeping in close contact with my family doctor as we sort through the variety of blood-related issues I struggle with.

Some other actions I could take to help me feel safe would include being more consistent with taking my iron supplement pills for my anemia, purchasing a wireless blood pressure monitor, and eating a more nutrient-rich, consistent, filling diet.

Loved:

I feel loved when I can talk to someone about anything, such as my likes and dislikes, fears, and opinions, without worry that they will judge, belittle, or speak over me.

The actions I take to make sure I am feeling loved include talking to those near and dear to me often, even if all we really have is virtual communication at the moment.

A further action I could take, and need to take, is to cut off those who I even worry will judge, belittle, or speak over me. I cannot and will not truly feel loved if I am surrounding myself with people who make me feel bad about myself.

Powerful:

I feel powerful when I have had a good, long sleep and I feel well-rested, energetic, and eager to face the day.

The actions I take to make sure I am feeling powerful include reading before bed, taking melatonin supplements, and using a sleep tracker app.

An action I know I need to take to feel powerful in this sense is avoid all technology before heading to bed. My inconsistency with this makes it hard to become a habit, but

Free:

I feel free when I can take time to myself and temporarily tune out the real world by going on long, fast bike rides alone.

The biggest action I have taken to make sure I am able to feel free is bettering my time-management skills. Now that I spend less time procrastinating the schoolwork I need to get done and instead work on it as soon as it is due, I am able to have more free time to myself to actually do what I want to do, creating a nice school-life balance. Another action I could take in order to feel more free (or least in order to be able to do this more often, as I live in Vancouver) would be to invest in water-proof, weather-proof biking gear that will protect both myself and my bike for my own safety.

Pleasured:

I feel pleasured when I eat a good meal, especially when it is a meal I have cooked myself. The actions I take to make sure I feel pleasured include grocery shopping, looking up fun recipes online, and motivating myself to get in the kitchen by following cooking and food blogs onlines.Some other actions I could take to feel this pleasure would be making cooking a fun hobby to do with others, such my family or boyfriend, as well as meal-planning and deleting food-ordering apps, such as Skip The Dishes or UberEats off my phone.

Summary:

Although my answers themselves felt pretty typical to me and did not provide me with any shock or surprise, thinking about the further actions I could take did. While I definitely make a strong effort to make sure I am able to feel those adjectives mentioned above, I’ve realized that the reason I have yet to take those further actions must be out of self-sabotage. The further actions I mentioned were not hard, tedious tasks. They are simple acts of self-care that must be done. Writing this progress log has led me to realize I have been putting off extremely important things, such as taking important health supplements, cutting off people who make me feel bad about myself, and taking further biking safety precautions, as well as reflect on why I have been putting these things off.

Assignment 1: Students With Special Needs

The needs I have chosen to focus on for this assignment are the special needs of the Gifted students of the classroom. The reason why I chose the needs of Gifted students is because I have seen firsthand the neglect and mistreatment they [can] receive from their teachers and classmates due to their differences, as well as how this neglect and mistreatment affects their academic performance, behaviour, development of social skills, and overall well being. The specific needs I will be looking at are their Emotional needs, with a focus on their Social needs as a Gifted student. In “Knowing Your Students and their Special Needs” by Weinstein & Romano, they discuss struggles Gifted students face in the classroom, such as social alienation from peers and a lack of connection and engagement with material (Weinstein, C.S., & Romano, M., Knowing Your Students and their Special Needs, 2015), as well as how these struggles impact things in these students’ day-to-day lives, such as their ability to socialize, interact, and engage with others, their actions, behaviour, and behavioural development, and their level of success in school.

The first article I have chosen is titled “A Case for Affective Education: Addressing the Social and Emotional Needs of Gifted Students” by Stephanie Ferguson. This article discusses the unique treatment Gifted students receive from their teachers and peers, and how this treatment can lead to things such as social isolation. The main points of this article are:

How being Gifted can lead to exclusion and alienation as well as the effects this exclusion and alienation can have on students.

The importance of developing a flexible, special curriculum and routine, leading to a more balanced school life for each student involved.

The second article I have chosen is titled “Putting the Well-Being of All Students (Including Gifted Students) First” by Tracy L. Cross. This article discusses the crucial role teachers play in the performance of Gifted students as well as examines the toxic side effects incessant praise and expectations from an educator has on a Gifted student. The main points of this article are:

In order to truly improve the schooling experience of students, the school board itself and teachers must have each and every student’s best interests in mind when planning school activities—even Gifted students. How teachers’ perception of Gifted students can lead to frustrating, strained, disconnected teacher-student relationships.

The third article I have chosen is titled “Social Emotional Needs: Social and Emotional Development of Gifted Students: A Psychosocial Bill or Rights for Students (Including Those with Gifts and Talents)” by Tracy L. Cross. This article discusses the importance of treating every student with equal respect as well as the rights each student has—no matter their academic capabilities. The main points of this article are:

Every student has the right to receive praise for their academic abilities without receiving excessive and uncalled for pressure or guilt.

Every student has the right to access to a challenging, rigorous curriculum and well-trained educators who are able to properly teach it.

Every student has the right to attend an institution they feel safe and welcome in—mentally, emotionally, physically, intellectually, and socially.

The main ideas and points in these articles go hand-in-hand with one another as well as with “Knowing your Students and their Special Needs” by Weinstein & Romano. The main ideas these articles have in common with one another are that Gifted students are often left behind by their teachers and their schools (thus being left behind by their peers, as well) and regarded as not needing any extra help or support due to their academic advancement. These factors lead to issues such as behavioural issues (classroom disruptions), social issues (unable to effectively or confidently communicate), and self-esteem issues (perfectionism, placing unhealthy amounts of pressure on self). Teachers need to do better and hold themselves more responsible and accountable regarding the level and quality of education Gifted students are receiving as well as the treatment these students receive from their classmates and staff.

The Letter to my Future Self:

Dear Chloe,

As a teacher, I hope you always remember the importance of getting to know your students and each of their special needs. No two students are the same, and what works for one may not work for another. I know that this career will get stressful, but if you start to follow and always remember to follow these rules from your first day of teaching, it will make your life and job not only much easier, but much more rewarding, as well.

Three things I WILL do regarding the Gifted students with Special Needs in my future classroom:

I will pay close attention to how they interact with the work they are given. I will make sure they remain intellectually stimulated and engaged, even if they are levels above other students in the class. I will achieve this through the creation of professional, open, trusting relationships with my students through personal, miniature check-ins to update me on how the student is doing and feeling both emotionally and academically.

I will create a social, safe class environment with students that are able to interact and work with those who are even most unlike them. I will create a classroom environment where students feel comfortable around each other regardless of their reading, writing, and arithmetic skills. There will be no levels of hierarchy in my classroom in any way, shape, or form. I will achieve this through the teaching of respect, kindness, and openness.

I will always make sure to leave an element of open-endedness in each assignment, project, and/or essay I assign. I will give my students this option of freedom and variety as to give them the opportunity to intellectually stimulate themselves in ways I may not have considered as a way to keep them interested and engaged with the material, especially if it is material they are advanced in comparison to or ahead of.

Three things I WILL NOT do regarding the Gifted students with Special Needs in my future classroom:

I will not single them out to discuss their work in front of the class without permission. I will not use them as an example to hold over their classmates heads.

I will not isolate or alienate Gifted students by giving them completely different work, allowing them to work with only each other, or sending them to another room or area of the classroom to do their work away from peers.

I will not place extra stress and/or work on them. I will not let them know of higher expectations or levels of disappointment unless I feel it is beneficial and crucial to their schoolwork.

Here is what I hope would be a poem from the perspective of a Gifted student with Special Needs in my future classroom:

everyday I walk into class

wanting to joyfully skip by the desks I pass

I wonder to myself, “Today what will we do?”

but who’s to say, with Ms. Gray it’s always something new

I feel excited,cheerful, comfortable, too

as I approach my seat, my friends exclaim “We were all waiting for you!

”the teacher asks a question I immediately knew

she calls on me and I say “The answer is two!”I used to fear raising my hand

now I’m no longer afraid to take that stand

my peers pat me on the back and give me praise

and suddenly I know I have reached better days.

References

"A Case for Affective Education: Addressing the Social and Emotional Needs of Gifted Students in the Classroom « SENG.“ SENG. N.p., n.d. Web. 20 June 2015. Cross, Tracy L. (2015). Social Emotional Needs. Gifted Child Today Magazine, 38(2), 128–129. https://doi.org/10.1177/1076217515569278

Cross, T. L. (2002). Putting the Well-Being of All Students (Including Gifted Students) First. Gifted Child Today, 25(4), 14–17. https://doi.org/10.4219/gct-2002-84

“Knowing your Students and their Special Needs.” Weinstein, C.S., & Romano, M. (2015).

Reflection: I included the Peer Interaction Tasks of Week 3 in this portfolio because they reflect me coming out of my comfort zone. I tend to struggle with forming meaningful relationships and connecting with others on a deeper level, so these Tasks definitely pushed me to be more open. I also included these Tasks in my Portfolio as I believe they have taught me ways to connect with my future students, especially those who may be unable to communicate their needs otherwise. I can definitely see myself using Type indicator quizzes with my future classes in order to get a better understanding of their needs and goals as learners. These tasks also gave me a better understanding of extroverts both as teachers and as students, allowing me to explore a variety of learning and teaching styles I hadn’t considered before due to my introversion. I included the Week 2 Progress Log because it shows a moment of weakness early on in the course—it reflects the struggles I had with deep reflection as well as being able to articulate my needs. I was unable to effectively describe how the feelings and actions discussed were linked to my needs. Though it wasn’t my best piece of work, I believe it is important to include as it was a learning moment for me regarding my understanding of what it means to truly, deeply reflect and connect. I included Assignment 1: Students with Special Needs because it provided me with a deeper understanding of the variety of needs students have in the classroom, especially of those I had not considered prior to doing this assignment. For this assignment, the students with Special Needs I chose were Gifted Students—the reason for this being that prior to this course, I had never even considered Gifted Students as having “special needs” in the classroom. This assignment really opened my eyes on how narrow-minded my idea of Special Needs really was. I thought this assignment was really interesting because it forced us, the prospective teachers, to focus on an aspect of learning and the classroom that for too long the education system has swept under the rug. Overall, I chose the assignments I did for two main reasons. I believe they really helped me overcome the anxieties that originally rendered me unable to open up to others and effectively practice deep self-reflection. These assignments also opened me up to different perspectives I was unable to see otherwise—the perspectives of Extroverts; the perspectives of Special Needs students. As an educator, it will be my job to form meaningful relationships with all students—not solely the students who share learning or type characteristics with myself, and I cannot expect to be able to do so if I have a static idea of what students are like, and what students need. I had big learning moments regarding my understanding of what it means to get to know students as well as the realities of this career. Something that stood out to me is how many different ways there are to get to know and understand your students. One way to get to know your students that has really stuck with me is the use of writing narratives in the classroom, which allows you to get to know your students (and vice-versa), with more depth and understanding. After the completion of this Module, I feel much more informed, but I also know that I have much more to learn. Sometimes, I forget the intricacies of this career and what the job really entails, but this Module has made me excited and eager to learn much more in my coming years. I have also been introduced to the raw, real aspects of teaching, such as the inability to interfere with a students life—there will be students that are going through hardships in their lives that I have no control over, and I must accept I am not a psychologist or a Judge. It is a bit disheartening to think of that somewhat powerless aspect of the career, especially as I am very in tune with feelings and empathy, but I know these feelings will just inspire me to be even better at what I am doing and what I do have control over. Understanding and coming to terms with this was a huge learning moment for me. Though I have experienced some change in this aspect, something I am still in the process of learning and developing is the way I approach work. I tend to rely on my own narratives and ideas because that is what feels most comfortable to me. In fact, I used to feel fear and anxiety when I knew I would be completing an assignment on an experience or topic I was not familiar with. However, my experience completing the Students with Special Needs assignment really helped me understand the significance of doing so. This significance has motivated me to work harder, as I consider doing work like this inspiring, decentering myself and truly thinking about others, which I believe has made me less ignorant and oblivious in my work. The area where I saw the most growth was in stepping out my comfort zones. Throughout my entire academic career, I have really disliked personal writing, as I have always felt uncomfortable and awkward in talking about myself. Prior to this course, I did not notice this, but this disliking for personal writing took a toll on my ability to reflect. My inability to deeply reflect and link my feelings to my needs was evident in my Week 2 Progress Log. I definitely believe I have improved since throughout the course, with evidence being shown in my Progress Logs of Week 9 and 10. To aid with this process, I wrote journal-entries about my feelings and day-to-day life to get more more comfortable with the idea of reflection and sharing. Overall, this Module helped me immensely regarding my ability to reflect, communicate with others, and articulate my feelings and needs. I walk away from this Module reflecting on what I have learned about the power of Narrative, Choice & Type Theory, and what I now know about Introverted/Extroverted students, intuitive/sensing students, and students with Special Needs—as well as how to make the classroom a safe, accepting place of learning that will work for everyone.

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