#[ and angst... needed bc last time i wrote them they were happy and ]

[v-hope]

glad you’re missing TF bc me too, i wanna see them finally settling and knowing they’re ready for the next big step in their lives or even just discussing building a family after grad or when they’re at a good stage in their careers🥺🤧

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

genre: slight angst, flufffff, established relationship, non-idol au

warnings: pregnancy scare, mentions of condoms, mentions of unprotected sex

word count: 2.3k

a/n: um. hello after years lolll. i started going through very old requests in my ask box yesterday in case i found anything that’d bring some inspiration to my very uninspired self, and i found manyyyy tiger flower ones and this one in particular reminded me of a headcanon of mine that i never wrote nor mentioned (i think) but for some reason it was??? an actual Thing???? in my mind????? so yeah lol here i am. i don’t think anyone even cares about tiger flower (minus one person. u know who u are<3) anymore, BUT fuck it, i missed them and enjoyed writing this. i hope whoever reads it enjoys it too, bye<333

A pregnancy scare wasn’t something you were expecting only two months into moving in together after your graduation. It wasn’t something you were expecting at all.

At most, you and Jeongguk had agreed on getting a puppy as a new addition to your family of two. Said discussion happened when the two of you had only been together for a few months, a little over a year ago, where you both agreed on moving in together after you graduated college and then get a puppy right away.

Moving in together was not up for debate — you knew so the moment Jeongguk got a job in the last year of college and so did you, saving enough money to get a decent place and looking for apartments throughout the entire year, so you could secure a lease as soon as your previous ones ended. On the other hand, although you were still excited as hell to get a dog, once you were settled in your shared place, you were both too busy and overwhelmed trying to keep up with your new jobs and all the new changes in your lives to even think of adding another responsibility on top of them all, let alone one that had to do with a living creature.

If neither of you felt ready to get a puppy yet, how the hell were you supposed to raise a child?

Your heart beat so fast against your chest, you felt like you would pass out any moment, as you paced around the bathroom while you waited for the pregnancy test to tell you whether you’d bring another human being to the world in nine more months or not. Endless thoughts running through your mind as you did so, and you internally cursed at yourself for not having waited outside with Jeongguk instead — God knows you needed his arms around you to bring you comfort.

You definitely needed Jeongguk to hold you, you realised the second the alarm you set as soon as you took the test finally went off, managing to somehow turn it off with your shaky hands, and fighting not to drop your phone as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment before taking a look to the test on the sink.

Once you earned enough courage to finally open your eyes and focus them on it, you exhaled all the air you didn’t know you were holding up until then — instant relief washing through your body.

Negative.

You were given another chance not to raise a child when neither of you were ready.

And yet, a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed, empty even, now that said possibility was out of the way.

Although it was not the right time, a family with Jeongguk was something you’d always be happy about — and something you were only now realising you longed for way more than you thought you did.

Coming out of the bathroom and meeting a very distressed Jeongguk waiting right outside the door, you shook your head no right away, just like that letting him know you were on the clear this time around.

He let out a heavy, shaky sigh, rubbing his eyes with his palms as he processed the news, before he pulled you into his arms like you so badly needed him to — melting into his familiar touch and inhaling his scent as you felt yourself begin to calm down.

He said nothing, you said nothing. Your arms around one another and feeling each other’s comfort were all you needed right then.

Jeongguk didn’t let go until he felt your body stop trembling, only pulling away enough to rest his forehead on yours and cup your face in his warm hands.

“You okay?” He wondered; for a change, not being able to tell what the expression on your face meant right then.

He genuinely didn’t know whether you were relieved or not. And, therefore, he didn’t know how to react to the news. Yes, he had sighed in relief a minute ago, but that was as much as he’d let himself express until he knew how you felt about the whole situation.

You nodded, still a little bit stunned — not knowing whether you should say what was on your mind. Then again, it was Jeongguk the one in front of you, holding you. You knew you could tell him anything and he would understand, or at least try his best to do so.

“Is it wrong that I feel a little bit disappointed?” You finally mumbled, catching his attention. “I mean, I know we’re not ready, and we haven’t planned it at all and I would be so fucking terrified had it turned out positive, but, I just…”

“I get it,” he stepped up when he realised you wouldn’t talk anymore, gently reaching for your hands and holding them in his. “Of course I’m relieved we’re not having a baby right now, but… a part of me really wants to start a family with you now”.

“Now?” You playfully raised an eyebrow.

“Not now,” he panicked. “But, I mean, in the near future, but not that nea—ugh, you get it”.

You couldn’t hold back a giggle, biting your lip when he rested his head on your shoulder, embarrassedly hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“I know,” you reassured him, running your thumb on the back of his hand. “I can’t wait to start a family with you either. It’d be cute, wouldn’t it?”

He nodded — one hundred percent on board with it, yet pensively.

Up until that day, you hadn’t really discussed your future together. It was more of a given. Unspoken, but you both knew you wanted everything with each other. From moving in together, to getting married, to having kids, to growing old together.

Maybe it was finally time for you to actually bring those thoughts up.

“What do you think is a good age for us to start trying?” Jeongguk wondered, his voice gentle as ever.

You puckered your lips as you pondered your options. “I mean, we’re only twenty three this year… Maybe in another two or three more?”

“Yeah…” he quietly agreed. “We still need to get the hang of living together on our own…”

“Getting a puppy…” you added.

“Save some money” Jeongguk considered.

“Get a bigger place”.

“Get married”.

You smiled at his addition, feeling the by now very familiar butterflies fill your stomach. Reaching your hand up to cup his cheek, you sweetly ran your thumb over the corner of his mouth.

“You wanna marry me?”

“I am marrying you, Y/N” he confidently stated, only to feel his cheeks burn the next second when he caught the way your eyes lit up. “I mean, if you’ll take me, of course…”

You giggled once again, this time throwing your head slightly back as you rejoiced at the new bit of information your boyfriend had just provided you with. “I am marrying you so hard one day, Jeon Jeongguk”.

He beamed, giggling against your mouth as he searched for it and trapped your bottom lip in between his smiling ones.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh of your own, wrapping your arms around his neck when he held you up by your thighs and took you to the sofa only a few steps away in your living room — not letting go of you for a second as he carefully lied on his back with you on top of him.

Lying your face comfortably on his chest, and running your fingertips up and down on it, you let out a contented sigh.

“So, kids sometime after we’re twenty six?” You returned to your previous conversation, before you got carried away by your desire to spend the rest of your lives together.

He hummed in response. “We should already have achieved all our previous goals by then, so I think it’s the most reasonable”.

“After twenty six it is then” you settled, smiling brightly when he reached for your hand and interlaced your fingers. “How many would you like?”

“Two or three would be nice,” Jeongguk confessed. “I’m okay with as many as you’re willing to have, though”.

“I always thought two… a girl and a boy” you admitted, feeling him smile against your head. “But I wouldn’t mind having three of them with you” a smile curved up your lips at the simple thought.

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “Two girls and a boy, or two boys and a girl…”

“What if it’s three girls?” You looked up at him.

“That’d be nice” he smiled.

“And if it’s three boys?”

“That’d be nice, too”.

“Mhm…” you squinted your eyes, suspiciously staring into his. “You want at least one girl so bad, Jeon Jeongguk”.

“I didn’t say that?” He defended himself.

“I can see it in your eyes” you playfully poked his forehead.

He rolled his eyes in amusement, tightening his hold on your hand to stop you from poking him again. “Well, sue me for wanting a mini version of you”.

Your heart melted, and you were pouting before you knew it. “I want a mini bun, too”.

“Too bad, we’re only having three girls now” he teased.

“Shut up,” you whined, slumping your face back down on his chest. “You just created a new need for me”.

Jeongguk’s chest trembled as a blissful laugh escaped his lips, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you so close to him you almost found it hard to breathe. You would never complain about it, though, let alone when his lips began to pepper kiss after kiss on the crown of your head.

“I love you,” he said. “And honestly I’ll be happy with whatever sex they are as long as they’re ours and we raise them together”.

His words brought tears to your eyes and a lump in your throat, being apparently still too sensitive over the whole situation not to feel like crying when he said the most reassuring words you needed to hear.

“You’re gonna make me cry” you let him know, looking up to meet his doe eyes once more. “But I’ll be the happiest as long as that’s the case, too”.

Jeongguk smiled timidly, gently pushing your chin slightly up for your lips to come in contact with his; pressing a soft kiss on them before his arms were once again tightening their hold around your waist.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled, nuzzling your hair.

“What for?” You questioned.

Jeongguk shrugged, fingers drawing small circles on your back. “For putting you through this…”

You chuckled, burying your face in his neck. “It takes two to make a child, bunny. Which we didn’t get to make, by the way”.

“I know,” he pouted, holding you somehow tighter against his body. “But last time I was too horny to go get a condom”.

You snorted. “Nothing we haven’t done before. We just tested our luck for the hundredth time and it backfired on us for once”.

Although you weren’t looking at him right then, you knew a pout had just formed on his bottom lip. You tenderly kissed his chest, in hopes of making the sad look on his pretty face go away.

When you felt him be distraught still, you decided to switch the mood a little bit.

“Still, I did have the scare of my life, so we’re going on a sex strike for a bit”.

His mouth fell open in disbelief, pulling you up by your shoulders so he could look you in the eye. “You’re not serious”.

“I am” you stated, trying your best not to allow your lips to break into a smile. “One month at least”.

“At least?!”

“Aren’t you the one who went twenty one whole years without having sex?” You raised a teasing eyebrow. “This should be nothing to you”.

“Petal…” he whined, hiding his face in your neck. “It’s not the same now”.

“Why not?”

“Because I got a taste of it with you two years ago and I can’t control myself around you now, you know it”.

“Sucks to be you” you shrugged. “One month starting today”.

Letting out a defeated cry that could only have you finally releasing the laugh you managed to hold for so long, he rested his head back against the couch.

“Can this month end already”.

“So you’re just accepting your fate?” You were the one in disbelief now. “You won’t even try to convince me otherwise?”

“No, it’s up to you” he said, closing his eyes as he threw an arm over them. “If you don’t want me to touch you then I’ll just keep my hands to myself and suffer in silence”.

You half cooed, half laughed, not having expected such a touching answer to your playful question. Then again, it was Jeongguk the one you were dating; you should know better by now.

Removing his arm from his face, you pressed a brief kiss on his nose. “I love you, bun” you ran your fingers through his hair. “As if I’d be able to go a whole month without jumping your bones”.

“Now don’t say it like that” he laughed, throwing one of his legs over your body and making you lie on your sides now.

Properly face to face now, you cupped his cheek and gently caressed it as you rested your forehead on his. “Give me two weeks tops to shake the fear off my body?”

He nodded, lovingly bumping his nose on yours. “As long as you need me to”.

[lovexdeepspace]

Hi ! Can you make a story where reader is not the mc and is in relationship with the boys who starts to act cold and indifferent bc of mc ? (i cant choose one i love all of them 😭)

summary; what happens when the l&ds boys have a run-in with the MC that changes everything.

warnings; angst, hurt, strained relations

note; my first request!! thank you so much for the love on my works, i’m so happy i can entertain with my writings!!

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

༊*·˚ xavier

you were curled up on xavier’s couch, engrossed in some cable drama that you had originally put on for background noise while you tidied. you didn’t even blink when the front door open and shut, signaling xavier’s arrival.

"how was work, xav?" you called, glancing over at him as he tossed his jacket onto the loveseat. you subconsciously leaned over as he approached the couch, your lips pursed as you awaited the usual ‘i missed you’ kiss that became a routine thing. however, he walked right by you and headed to the kitchen, eyes on his phone.

"it was fine," he responded absentmindedly, pocketing his phone and rummaging through the fridge. "i’m real tired, though. think i’m gonna head to bed early tonight."

you turned off the tv and stood, coming up behind him. your arms wrapped around his waist and you pressed your cheek to his back, sliding your hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

"are you okay?" you murmured, giving him a comforting squeeze. "did something happen at work today?"

xavier shut the fridge and put his hands inside the pocket as well, over yours. "i’m okay. just tired is all."

he pulled your hands out of his pocket and turned to face you, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before shuffling off to the bedroom. you frowned and wrote it off as a tough day, thinking it was just a once in a while thing.

until it became an every day sort of thing.

over time it grew more and more obvious that there was something else going on with xavier outside of work — he would come home later, his already kind of spotty communication became worse, and then the affectionate gestures became a chore to him.

you would try to hold his hand? oh, he needs to hold his phone or it's in his pocket suddenly. want a hug? expect one of those brief side-hugs. expecting a kiss? quick peck on the cheek at most.

it was heart-wrenching, watching the man who had loved you like you had hung the moon in the sky for years suddenly stop. the thoughts of where things had gone sour commanded your mind day and night, searching for the answer tirelessly. then, one day, the answer presented itself to you out of the blue.

or, rather, she presented herself to you.

you and xavier were spending a quiet (not by choice) morning in the cafe when a woman approached, calling xavier's name. you noticed the way he straightened and the way his eyes lit up before he quickly covered it up. your heart shattered but you swallowed the hurt, smiling at the woman as she looked between the two of you and introduced herself to you. xavier invited her to sit with you two and she accepted, allowing you front row seats to watch the man who was supposed to love you fall in love with someone else.

༊*·˚ rafayel

work had finished early today, leaving you the afternoon to do as you pleased. seeing as your last mission was located just a couple blocks from rafayel’s studio, you took it upon yourself to pick up some snacks from the cafè to surprise him since he had been working hard for days on end now.

with pastries in hand you walked up the pathway to the mo art studio, a skip in your step as your excitement became palpable. as you go to open the door it swings open for you, revealing not rafayel but a woman you’d never seen before. you faltered for a second as she brushed by you with a muttered apology, heading the way you came.

probably just some fan of his work, you thought to yourself as you headed inside. kicking off your shoes at the entryway, you head for the main room and find rafayel lounging on his couch. he sat upright once he noticed you, squaring his shoulders and forcing a grin.

“you’re here,” is all he said to you, a stark contrast to his usual witty comments on how you just couldn’t seem to stay away for long.

“work ended early, so i thought i’d bring you some snacks,” you replied, placing the paper bag on the coffee table as you took a seat next to him. “how’s the painting coming out?”

“fine,” he replied, digging into the bag and pulling out a tart. you waited for him to continue, to whine and complain about thomas or some media outlet being on his ass about something but nothing followed his curt response.

“so,” you drawled, filling the silence, “another fan found your address?”

rafayel’s brow furrowed and he swallowed before asking, “what do you mean?”

“the woman who left when i came,” you pointed out, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. “a fan of your art?”

rafayel shook his head, leaning back against his couch with a wistful smile. “oh, her? don’t worry about it, just a deepspace hunter looking into some things about my paintings.”

you wanted to not worry — truly you did — but something about the whole thing just didn’t sit right with you. despite the nagging feeling in your mind, you went to place your hand over rafayel’s so you could focus on something else. just as your pinky finger was about to interlock with his, he quickly pulled his hand onto his lap.

with a small nod, you stood and mumbled, “i’m gonna head home.”

you hoped that rafayel would say something — better yet do something — to get you to stay but no, he was off in his own little world, staring out the window at the sea. fighting back tears, you take your leave, slipping on your shoes and heading back towards the streets.

the sunny day was no longer warm and welcoming but hot and suffocating with your heart drowning in pain at the idea of the man you loved with all your being and more having someone else.

༊*·˚ zayne

things between you and zayne had always been kind of like a scale — some days it would lean to one side, some days the other.

he was stoic yet sweet, soft and caring in just the right moments. the times you were together were some of the most blissful times you could ever have imagined. just the right amount of intimacy, domesticity, and partnership that a relationship needed to blossom.

this would be outweighed, however, by the days straight without communication but you always chalked it up to his profession and never really had too much of an issue with how things went. you couldn’t begin to imagine the amount of stress that a doctor took on, especially in the day and age of wanderers. so, like a good partner would, you did all you could to be as supportive as possible in every way he needed.

from homemade lunches to silently holding him in your arms after a rough day, there was nobody better for him than you.

one morning after you had stayed the night, you woke up to a text from him asking if you could deliver his lunch that he’d left on the table. after sending a quick reply to assure him you’d swing by in a bit, you got out of bed and found some clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser for you.

soon after getting yourself together, you grabbed zayne’s lunch and packed one for yourself, deciding that it’d be nice to have a meal together in his office again since it had been some time since the last one. you enjoyed the brisk walk to the hospital, soaking up the early spring sun.

yvonne gave you a polite wave as you walked past the receptionist’s desk and down the hall towards zayne’s office. you knocked once before opening the door, stopping short as you noticed a woman sitting on the couch beside him.

“my bad, i didn’t know you had a patient,” you said with an awkward chuckle before holding up his lunch bag. “brought your —”

“just leave it on the desk,” zayne interrupted, nodding toward the desk in the corner. “thank you.”

“yeah, no problem,” you replied, doing as asked. you stand there for a second longer and zayne cleared his throat, gesturing towards the door. “oh, sorry. i’ll, uh, see you later then?”

your statement switched to a question when zayne raised an eyebrow at you, quickly shutting down any confidence you had. with a curt nod you exited his office and left the hospital, mind clouded as you aimlessly wandered until you found yourself at the park. sitting on a bench you took out your lunch and began to eat until you couldn’t stomach anything anymore with the image of zayne and the woman on the couch burned into your mind.

the way they were shoulder to shoulder; her hand centimeters from his knee; his eyes, usually icy and reserved, looking at her with a sickening fondness that you only saw from time to time; the way he addressed you not as a partner, but as someone who had intruded on something so important to him.

the way he was smitten, fallen in a way you had never seen in the year and some change you’d been together.

[rosenclaws]

Restless night | Variant!Logan x reader

summary: Logan has nightmares about his world and you want to help.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of bodies (not graphic), sad logan, possibly ooc bc ive never written for him im sorry dfslj. Reader has like, memory manipulation powers? Ig that's how you'd explain them??

a/n: Hello! This is my first Logan fic ever and I am very nervous but after watching Deadpool I have fallen in love with wolverine, particularly this wolverine. I don't know if I'll ever write again for him but I wrote this and felt like sharing so I hope you like it too <3

wc: 1.7k

"Logan!" You yell angrily. He grits his teeth as you slam the door wide open. Curious heads turn towards the two of you as you storm after him. 

"What." He bites back as he continues to walk. 

"Can you just stop for one fucking second!" Your fists clench at your sides as you stop right in front of the front doors. "You are a real asshole, you know that? You're a mutant whether you like it or not. So how about doing something good and helping us." He pulls out a cigar and lights it, blowing the smoke directly into your face. 

"For the last fucking time, I don't want any part of your X-Men bullshit." You sigh and shake your head. So fucking stubborn. 

"We need you Logan, please. I need you please." You place your hand on his arm, rubbing your thumb over his leather jacket. For a moment you think he might stay. Maybe he'll admit for once in his life that he wants the family that waits for him here. Instead he pushes your hand off. Rolls his eyes and walks straight past you. 

"Fuck off." He walks out the doors, letting them slam loudly.

Those were the last words he ever spoke to you. Well, the you that he knew.

"Logan?" He flinches hard as your voice snaps him from his spiral. 

It makes his stomach turn to see you. You look exactly how he remembers. Except you have a scar on your forehead. His eyes focus on that, a reminder that you're not the you he knew. No, in this universe you're Wade's next door neighbor. A mutant who retired from teaching at the mansion and lives a quiet, happy life. At least you're happy in this world. 

"M'fine." He mumbles as he stands up from the table. No one was really paying attention to the two of you as dinner was dying down. You want to say more but he leaves before you can. Sighing, you watch him retreat into his room. He's barely said two words at a time to you. No matter how hard you try he refuses to speak to you. At first you thought you had done something but the few times you've caught him staring you see a terrible sadness in his eyes. You know he's from another timeline and that something went terribly wrong. Your room shares a wall with his and as hard as he tries he can't hide his nightmares.

"Don't worry about him, he's got that tragic backstory kind of character development going." Wade comments. "God knows he could use some therapy but I doubt Marvel would ever green light that movie." You nod absentmindedly, not really listening to Wade's rambling. 

You float around for a little longer until you can silently excuse yourself and go back to your own apartment. Logan stays on your mind the whole time. You wonder if he knew you in his world. If something had happened that made him like this. As you lay in bed you close your eyes and listen, you can hear him tossing and turning. He settles and you silently hope that for once he can sleep through the night. 

It's eerily silent as he stumbles back to the mansion. He stops right outside of the door. His ears alert for the sound of you to see if you were awake yet. Except no matter how hard he listens he can't hear anything. A horrible scent fills his nose and it makes him sick. The smell of blood. Barging through the door's he's met with destruction and bodies.

This is a nightmare, it has to be. He calls your name frantically. Racing through the mansion, begging for anyone to be alive. Instead he finds body after body. Until he stumbles upon yours. He falls to his knees, his hands ghosting over your face. You look so peaceful but you're cold to the touch. Maybe if he had been there, he could have saved you.

His claws unsheathe themselves as white hot rage bubbles to the surface. Without another word he walks out of the mansion with only the thought of killing on his mind. Blood for blood.

Logan's voice is what wakes you up. Even through the walls you can hear him. You can't quite make out what he's saying but it's clearly a nightmare. He's turning wildly. You knock on the wall, hoping maybe it would wake him somehow. Worry builds as he gets louder. 

Suddenly through the walls you hear a resounding shout before metal claws burst through your wall. You can't help but scream as they miss you by only a few inches. Breathing heavily you slowly reach out to touch them but they retract before you can.

"Fuck!" You hear him shout. The sound of scrambling and frantic footsteps following his outburst. A loud knocking fills your apartment as you shake off the shock. Quickly you rush to the door and open it, finding a shirtless Logan standing before you. His eyes scan you for injuries, injuries that he would have caused. He grabs your arms firmly and pushes you inside, closing the door behind him with his foot. 

"Logan I'm okay, just a little startled." You try to reassure him but he doesn't hear you. His mind is snowballing out of control. 

"Logan!" You say louder and he finally looks at you. 

"I'm okay." You say softly. Slowly he loosens his grip as he lets his body relax, but only a little. 

"Another nightmare?" You ask and he nods. His eyes drift to your open bedroom door. He can see the holes left by his claws. Just how close they sit next to your pillow. Guilt floods him as he deflates.

"I..." He doesn't really know what to say. This would be your first real conversation since he came to this world. For years he's thought about what he'd say to you if he was ever gifted the chance. Yet, he stands here completely silent. 

"They're getting worse." You say, breaking the silence. 

Cautiously you reach to take his hand. He closes his eyes as he feels your thumb rub along the top of his hand. He lets you guide him to your bedroom. When you let go he almost reaches out to take it back, but he doesn’t. Instead he turns his attention towards your wall. He’s ruined a fair amount of bed sheets before but this was new. He traces the holes with his hand. Wincing as he notices just how close he was to cutting you open. 

"Sit." You gesture to the empty side of your bed. He hesitates and you huff. 

"Humor me." You plead and he can't find it in himself to say no. 

It's almost too much as he sits down, everything smells like you. Your hands move towards his temples but he grabs your wrists before you can go any further.

"Logan, let me help." He half smiles at that. 

"You were always so persistent about that." Your eyes widen as you realize he's talking about his universe’s you. 

"I told you I didn't want you poking around in my head but you just wanted to help the nightmares. I never let you though" He admits. 

"I should've. I should've stopped being a stubborn ass and just listen to you." His voice wavers and you have a feeling he's not talking about dreams anymore. 

"Then listen to me and let me help you." He lets go of your wrists and looks up at your face. Savoring the look of kindness in your eyes. 

"You don't want to go in here, once you do..." Wordlessly you place your fingers on the side of his head. Suddenly you're overcome with visions of bloodshed and anger. A tear slips down your face as you see flashes of Logan's memories. 

The rage, the hopelessness, the darkness that plagues his mind. Through all of that there was a lurking feeling of indescribable guilt. So much pain, so much sorrow. Logan knocks your hands away as he watches more tears pour down your face. You open your eyes and wipe the tears away. 

"I told you baby," He waits for you to move away from him. To call him a monster. It's what he deserves. To his surprise you wrap your arms around him instead. He buries his face in your shoulder and hugs you tight. 

"I'm so sorry." It’s the last thing he expects to hear and it nearly breaks him.

"What I did.." 

"You were in pain, so much pain." You know it's not easy for him to see but all of this pain led to him becoming the hero he never thought he could be. 

"You saved the world Logan. You're a hero whether you like it or not." He winces as he remembers you say something similar to him before. "And a hero deserves to sleep peacefully, for one night at least."

"You won't stop will you?" You shake your head and he finally relents.

He sinks down into your bed, resting his head on your lap. You bring your fingers back to the side of his head and use your powers to calm his mind. Searching for happy memories and temporarily suppressing the bad ones. Calmness washes over him, a feeling he hasn't felt in years. He's already drifting in and out of sleep but something nags at him from the back of his mind. 

"I loved you. My universe's you." He admits in a whisper. The words he never got to say. It's been eating him alive for decades. He never got to say them to you, he was too much of a coward. 

Your heart skips a beat at his confession and he can hear it. You don't respond, instead offering a comforting hum. He doesn't know you. The similarities are there but he knows you're two different people. But he wants to know you and he hopes you feel the same way. For a moment he thinks that maybe the universe is finally giving him what he's always wanted, a second chance.  

"Sleep well Logan." You watch his breathing slow and his mind settle. Though you could stop using your powers now, you hold on for a while longer.

And for the first time in a long time, Logan sleeps.

[luizd3ad]

Amnesia | Regulus Black x Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

WC: 666

CW: Angst, talks of break up, not being able to move on, all through Regulus POV, no use of Y/N

Author's Note: honestly I only wrote this bc I wanted to wright something inspired by 5SOS 😭

Summary: Regulus is still dealing with the effects of your break up over a year later.

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“It's over, Regulus. I can't do this anymore. You don't talk to me anymore, I'm done.”

Your words play over and over in his head, on a constant loop. 

He remembers the day you left, the tears streaming down your face. The look of pure defeat. He felt as if he had broken a part of you and it killed him.

He doesn't know why he did it still, why he started to shut down with you. He just felt like if he told you his thoughts that you'd eventually leave him. 

That you'd get tired of him and his anxieties, that maybe he would start to bore you.

He still doesn't understand why he thought that especially when you never said or did anything to make him think those things.

Even when you sat there cried and begged him for months to let you in, Regulus just couldn't. He didn't know why he was scared, you had been together for years. He didn't understand why all of the sudden he couldn't talk to you.

He looked around the flat that you had shared. He hasn't changed anything since you left. 

It had been over a year but he couldn't bring himself to move to a new flat or change anything about the space you both had occupied. 

Regulus liked having reminders that you were once there. The pictures of the two of you that still remain on the walls, along with some of the decor that you two had picked out. 

He likes looking at them, he likes feeling the loneliness that they brought him, it reminded him that you're real. 

Sirius would come over often trying to get him to go out to the pubs to ‘get out there’ and try and ‘move on’ but Regulus doesn't want to move on. 

He wants this last year to be a dream.

He wants to wake up and feel you in his arms, so he could just hold you and never let you go.

Regulus had asked Barty and Evan frequently how you are, if there's anything new in your life. 

But he stopped asking three months ago, after they told him you had moved on. That you had been on a few dates with someone and you had made it official. 

You were doing fine. 

How could you be fine? How could you be okay? You had loved him, right? If all the dreams and promises that you left behind were real then how could you be fine?

Especially when he felt like he couldn't breathe anymore without you.

He'd catch himself thinking about you and your new partner. 

He wondered if you were happy. If you ever felt lonely like him. If whenever you and your new partner got into fights would you read the poems and letters he had written for you over the years. 

Do you even have them still? Or are they like your relationship with him? Gone.

Regulus liked thinking about the last kiss you had shared. How soft and beautiful it was.

He missed the way that it felt like you consumed him when you kissed. How he could only smell, taste and feel you. 

When you would kiss, nothing else mattered. There was nothing else, nobody else on this plant, in this universe, time would stop when you were together.

Regulus was pulled out of his thoughts when there was a knock on the door. 

He sighed and stood up figuring it was either Sirius or Barty coming to check on him so he didn't care how he looked. 

He probably needed to shave and get a haircut. He was still in his pajamas even though it was the middle of the day but he just could bring himself to really care.

Regulus opened the door and when he saw who it was he felt like all the air had left his lungs and he wished he had cared what he looked like a second ago.

“Hi, Reg.”

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Lie to me (alt sad ending)

Lover of mine (alt happy ending)

[somewhereincairparavel]

could u do something about thalia never showing up for jason? in the end of tlh he was hoping she’d show up for the counselors meeting and she didn’t so maybe a series of him making plans with her/trying to get in touch with her and just being disappointed every time… not thalia hate i love u thalia she just is too busy for him (while doing it during the months between tlh and son could be cool i think in between boo and toa would be more angsty bc u know he’s going through a breakup!!! he’s all alone in this random private school he isn’t familiar with the mortal world and he just wants his sister but she isn’t there!!!)

Two times Jason Grace wrote Thalia a letter, and the one time he didn't send it.

author's note: Ah this is so angsty and perfecttt :( The Grace siblings deserved more…they're my faves fr.. anyway, I hope I did justice to your request anon! Thank you for requesting, it made my day! I thoroughly enjoyed writing this. I just finished my exams and I'm back to having more time for writing :) you guys can send me more angsty jason prompts like this one if you want to, I'll write them with the best of my capabilities, I'm quite new to heavy angst like this so I was surprised when I was able to finish this within an hour. Jason Grace does this to me.

TW: severe angst. I mean it, very severe, character death, mentions of sacrifice, no happy ending. I went all out, I'm sorry. I was just way too into this.

Jason traced his finger over the glossy photo frame in his hands, which encrusted a picture of his older sister, Thalia. He had requested Leo to help him with the framing, the edges were made with a mahogany coating. He smiled at the lovely picture of his sister, her hair being held together by her silver huntress circlet, wearing her punk rock clothes. 

Over the course of the summer, He had finally gotten the chance to take a good picture of Thalia for a family keepsake, he had held on to the tattered, torn picture of Thalia that annabeth had given to him before his first quest, and he still treasured it greatly. But he insisted that Thalia and him take at least one good picture before she disappeared with her maidens into the world, for months. 

“And then Leo said-” Jason was cut off by thalia’s fellow maiden Phoebe, rushing towards them, yelling for thalia. 

“Lady Thalia, lady Artemis is heavily in need of your assistance immediately!” Phoebe said panting. Thalia frowned and her eyes apologetically turned back to Jason. “I'll be there” she told her fellow huntress, before giving Jason a strangling hug. “I'm so sorry Jason, we'll talk later yeah?” Jason swallowed his disappointment after he saw how truly apologetic Thalia looked. “Of course, stay safe for me?” Thalia smiled sweetly and nodded at that before trudging up the path.

That was the last time he had seen of Thalia in months, and there was only one way to settle this. Jason decided to send in letters to his sister, that way, she could read it and keep them with her, and he could tell her everything without getting interrupted by anyone. He soon learnt to cherish this hobby alot. He loved his sister, and writing to her gave him a warm sense of comfort. He needed that, especially after Leo's death.

“Dear Thalia,

How have you been sis? I hope your mission with Phoebe to help Artemis went well! It's been pretty tough lately. My nightmares are plagued with pictures of mom. I know you of all people would understand how horrific that feels. I miss Leo, and piper's been acting a little strange around me lately.. but Leo's disappearance is taking a toll on her. So I get it. Nico is finally staying in camp half blood, isn't that great?? That boy deserved a break for once. Anyways, write back if you can, but if you can't, that's fine, I know you're busy.

–love, your annoying little brother.

Weeks, and months flew by, but still no response from Thalia. But he knew better than to take it seriously. Jason knew that she had gotten the letter, and that was enough for him. Well, that was enough, until things went downhill for him very quickly. Piper had approached him in the school corridor and thought it was a great day to end their year long relationship, shattering Jason's soul to pieces, this, coupled with the immense amount of pressure he had to build the minor god shrines, Jason felt numb, and he did what he usually did. He poured his heart out to Thalia in another letter, seeking comfort in his ink and paper. Longing for thalia’s presence once more.

“Dear Thalia,

it's me again, I hope you're doing good, atleast better than I am. I've been feeling terrible lately, Piper ended things with me, i guess we finally know why she was acting the way she did around me, huh? She said our relationship was only hera’s illusion and didn't feel that way about me anymore, which sucks, since I'm still very much in love with her. The pressure has increased tenfolds on me these days, the minor gods are heavily anticipating the promise I told them I'd keep. I'm planning on moving schools so i don't have to deal with the heartbreak of seeing Piper in school anymore. Anyways, I just wanted to write to you since it makes me feel better. Sending you lots of love from California.

— love, Your annoying little brother 

Minutes. Hours. Days. Weeks. Months. 

Jason knew. The moment the sibyl told him about looking for the third emperor. Jason knew, that his doomsday was going to knock on his doorstep very soon. He was going to sacrifice himself for Piper. And nobody was changing his mind. Jason stared out his dormitory window, the outside mortal world looked a little too cheery for the melancholic thoughts that were chasing his mind. He averted his gaze to the person in the picture frame hanging at his wall. Thalia had always been too busy for him. They had never had a proper full conversation together, one on one conversations getting disrupted, iris messages wearing out within a few minutes, even his letters never got a reply, or even a single acknowledgement. 

Yet jason knew, that Thalia Grace was the only one who loved him more than anything in the world. She didn't have to spend time with him for him to know that. He knew by the way she had only left their childhood home after Jason was deemed “dead”, he knew by the way she had picked a two year old jason up  after he injured his mouth with that stapler,he knew by the way she played hide and seek when they were little, he knew by the way she had told no one about him, not even annabeth, since he was a memory that she held close to her heart. So subconsciously, his hands wrapped around the pen he always used to write with. With shaky hands, and teary eyes slowly dripping in the paper, he began to write.

Thalia was resting on the rocks, thinking of how Jason was doing, she had recieved all his letters and read them through atleast 2 times. She wanted to respond, but it kept slipping her mind. Something had always come up, but now, she was finally free. Just as she was about to pick up her pen, she heard her name being called.

“Thalia!”

It was Reyna. She was holding an envelope, Thalia’s spirits skyrocketed at the thought of her brother sending her another letter. But.. why was it being sent through Reyna..? It was usually always sent by Jason's wind manipulation. Those letters would float towards her. That's how she always knew it was from her brother.

She was expecting Reyna to tease about Jason's cheesy letters to his sister, but what she wasn't expecting, was for Reyna to start sobbing on the spot, breaking out the news that her younger brother was dead. 

Jason. Her little stapler eating brother. Was dead.

“This was found by Meg in Jason's desk.” Reyna shakily handed Thalia the envelope. It was a blue envelope, the usual colour that Jason always sent to her. And on top of it, was his smudy handwriting that Thalia could recognise from a mile away. The letter was signed “To Thalia Grace”.

Thalia opened it carefully but tears were leaking out of her eyes.

“Dear Thalia,

there's something that I've been keeping for a while now, but I know it's finally the time to tell you this. I met the sibyl in the labryinth who had told me that my life would be cut short. if went looking for the third emperor, Caligula, either me or Piper would be killed. There's no point denying the inevitable is going to happen. Prophecy's can never be thwarted, after all. I've made my choice, I'm not letting Piper die. I've decided that I am going to use myself as a sacrifice. I'm writing you this, to let you know, that, I love you. I love you so much sis, I hope you know that. I know we've never got to see eachother much, but I don't want you blaming yourself in any way for this. I hope you know that, writing to you, even without a response from your side all these months, has helped my life feel a lot more meaningful. the mere thought of you taking the time to read my letters makes me feel so loved. So happy. Now that I know that I might be meeting my end, I'm letting you know, that I've cherished every single thing you've ever said to me. Including the fact that you hate tomatoes on your sandwiches. Take care of yourself, sis, I'm always with you.

  — love, for the last time, your annoying little brother :)

Thalia clutched the letter with her heart, screaming in agony. Thunder boomed angrily overhead, almost as if her father could feel her rage. Her heart strings were tearing apart. She sobbed, as she looked up at the blue sky, the same blue as Jason's darling eyes.

“I love you too. My annoying little brother, always”

[babiebom]

Heyy it's me again, lol. Ur criminal minds hcs for Reid were so good!! Thank u for blessing me. 🙌🏻 I was wondering if ud be down to write maybe a one-shot or a drabble of Reid comforting a reader (I almost wrote reider bc I spaced out and like akjsldj) who just had friends leave them when they thought they were really close? I hope that's not too specific!! Thank you sm for blessing the world with ur writing. It literally makes my day so much brighter whenever you post. 🥰

A/N: CUTE!! Reider would be a really cute fandom name for him ngl. Also I’ve fallen out of contact with friends that I thought were gonna be in it for the long run with me but unfortunately it just didn’t work out that way even if we didn’t fall out. ALSO specifics are great with me because then it’s clear what I need to write and what you want me to write so don’t apologize!! Can you tell I don’t know how to comfort anyone?

Tw: some cursing, some abandonment issues, mentions of bullying within the friend group. Isolation, ghosting. Lmk if there’s something I should tag!

Genre: angst, one shot, some fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (can be read platonically or romantically in think. Also can be read as gender neutral maybe?) if I added pronouns or descriptors let me know!!

Wc:1.3k

Criminal Minds Masterlist

It’s strange when you break up with a friend, even more so when the reason that you breakup is something stupid, something avoidable. It hurts even more when you get abandoned, ghosted by someone you thought would be in your life for the rest of it. No one ever prepares you for friendships ending. You get prepared for romantic relationships, death, and maybe sometimes you drift apart from friends but even then you’re prepared.

You stare at the group chat that had defined your childhood and teenage years. Stare at the names followed by “has left the chat” with a feeling in your heart that is only rivaled by death of a loved one if you remembered correctly. It had been a while.

It was a petty argument that only lasted a day, something about how everyone treated you. You regretted bringing it up on the first day that you had been ignored after sending a message. That day turned into a week which turned into them all leaving the group chat without telling you which hurt more than being kicked out of it. Did you really mean that little that they would ghost you that easily?

You never started arguments usually. You never even participated in them, trying to stay neutral in order to keep everyone happy. Always passive and agreeable and everyone liked you that way. The one time you have something to get off your chest…maybe you shouldn’t have said anything.

You tried to message one of your friends first, you hadn’t known her as long as some of the others in the group, but she was always sweet and didn’t seem like the type to ghost.

You 5:43 pm: Irene what happened? I saw you all left the group chat. Is something wrong?

You don’t get an answer back for an hour. And it makes your heart squeeze in your chest. It isn’t really an answer, but at the same time it answered both of your questions. To her you didn’t really matter all that much and something was really wrong.

Irene 7:01 pm: just leave me alone. You said what you needed to say, if you message me again I’ll block you.

You try again with a different friend. One you have known a little longer. One who had complained to you and confided in you and one that you thought you were close to than this.

He doesn’t answer at all, and neither do the other two that you message. Eventually you figure out that your messages never sent because you had been blocked. Going to their instagrams and twitters, everything is gone as soon as you click on them. Even their TikTok’s have nothing for you to look at.

Soon enough you’re fighting off tears, your chest tight and your stomach swirling. Was speaking up for yourself really worth this? Your head spins and your vision becomes blurry as you click on the last contact that’s available to you.

Your best friend. Having known her for the longest time out of all of them, you’d think she’d say something before doing something like this. You two met in elementary school, and were friends before the group got together. If you think about it more your friendship reminded you of the one in Jennifer’s Body. Except instead of saving everyone, you were being ignored and abandoned by the person you thought was going to be there even if everyone else wouldn’t. The person that you thought you could rely on.

But before you could message her, one came straight to you. The bubbles popping up as she’s typing something else. You can’t really understand the first paragraph, your mind to overwhelmed by the weeks events to be able to read.

Emilie 7:42 pm: I just wanted to message you before you tried anything with me. I’m honestly not interested in talking to you anymore after how you talked to me and my friends. None of us want you in the group anymore, and honestly it’s fucking pathetic that you’re reaching out and asking if anything is wrong when you’re the reason everyone was upset in the first place. Like you said we were shit friends, and now you wanna act like everything confuses you? If we were so shitty to you, why do you want us to still talk to you? I told Jacob, Josh, Irene, and Paisley to block you if you message them because honestly they don’t need you to try to beg and plead with them. You’re toxic and we’re done with you. Honestly, you look pathetic and desperate for attention messaging all of us like this. I’m not even gonna bother blocking you because it doesn’t really matter that much to me and maybe in the future I could be open to being friends again but for right now, I’m over it. Bye. You should do better.

Now the tears fall down your face, hot and burning as they trail down your cheeks and onto the screen of your phone. Going onto instagram to doom scroll your feelings away, you are immediately met with a photo of your friend group hanging out without you. Taken aback, you try to bring yourself to unfollow Emilie, to block her and effectively cut her out of your life while your wounds are fresh and your friendship is newly ended so you don’t have to torture yourself. But that’s exactly what you do, torture yourself. Instead of unfollowing her, deleting all of the pictures of her and your friend group from your feed, you scroll through them, the tears falling faster the longer you sit there and reminisce. You don’t even hear the front door open and close, and the only reason you know it did is because of the weight that causes you to lean towards the new person in the bed. Warmth blankets around you, the feeling of arms wrapped around your body brings you out of your mind.

Turning to look at the man next to you, you see that Spencer is looking at you as if you’re a wounded animal and it makes you burst out into tears. Maybe you really did look pathetic. “Oh no…what happened?”

You tried to explain, but couldn’t properly while you were blubbering. Instead you just throw your phone to him and let your head fall into your hands. He takes a literal second to read, then lets out a gust of air that usually meant he was surprised and didn’t know what to say.

He moves to hug you again, resting his head on top of yours. “You know…they say that it takes 200 hours to form a close friendship with someone. And when that friendship ends unexpectedly, it can cause a multitude of issues in the future with how you trust and open up to people…”

His ramblings weren’t all that comforting, but just hearing him speak made you start to feel better. Of course he would attempt to make things better by spouting facts that one hundred percent would make anyone else annoyed at him. You snuggle into his arms, nodding your head to show that you’re listening in between sobs. “S-so how long until I s-stop feeling like my h-heart is broken?” You ask. It did somehow feel like being broken up with, or having someone die.

“Well, most grief experts think that a year is a good estimate on how long it takes to get used to the loss of someone major in your life…”

“A year?” You whine, letting your head tilt backwards dramatically. “That’s too long!” It’s kind of a joke, the way you say it. But the way he looks at you lets you know that he knows you’re being somewhat serious.

“She was your best friend…of course it’s going to take some time to get used to not talking to her…however long you take to grieve is how long it’s going to take. It’s not a complete science.”

You nod, and hide your face in his chest. While you still felt like the Earth was ending, maybe it’s not ending right this second anymore.

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Five

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: The past seems to repeat itself and this awful memory seems to provide some much needed context to your actions.

Warnings:  All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, funerals, toxic relationships, grief, angst, strained relationships, minor injuries, arguments/yelling matches, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues, running away, addiction, interventions. This is literally just pure angst again im so sorry (not really (: ).

Word Count: 5k (sorry, she is a long one!)

A/N: I wrote this while procrastinating packing to move into my dorm LOLLL i move in a few days but im too anxious to even start packing <3 anyways this one is another heavy one and a long one too, so fun ! I hope you all enjoy because she was surprisngly difficult to write and edit bc my imposter syndrome and chronic perfectionism is out to get me ! ! Have a slay n gay day ily all ! 

Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 @jadeittic

MASTERLIST

It was a cold and cloudy day in March, fitting for a funeral. There was snow on each corner of the sidewalk, partially melted, but the cold air that made your lips burn when you stepped outside threatened more snowfall to come.

Today marked two weeks since you got the phone call that changed your entire life.

It was only two weeks after Mikey was found dead on the State Street Bridge and they already got him ready to be put into the ground. 

You stared out the window, silent, and watched the life that occurred outside. A man helped his son get out of their car, both in matching hats and scarves, a teen with a backpack passed by with their friends, laughing and jumping, a tree swayed, leaves still gone. 

“Hey, sweetheart, are you ready?”

You didn’t respond.

Your father placed his hand onto your shoulder, “Are you ready?”  

You sighed, letting your breath fog up the cold window pane in front of you. 

Most days, you sat on the only wooden dining chair that was saved from your and Mikey's apartment and looked outside the window. You noticed things you normally took for granted, like the view of snowfall during sunset and the way the trees swayed when a gust of wind blew. 

Finally, you stood up, feeling your dad's hand slip off your shoulder. You didn't bother to smooth out your black dress, letting the wrinkles set in the fabric. Meanwhile, the stockings you wore under pinched you as you moved, but you didn’t care enough to adjust them either. 

"Yea…” you responded at last, voice thick and scratchy.

Your parents mumbled quietly to each other as they locked the door, stealing not so subtle glances over to you as you stood in the middle of the path down the front door, looking at the now empty street. 

Everyone around you just seemed to keep on asking you the same question: "Are you ready to…" but you didn't know. You didn't know if you were ready to face death. But you did know that you felt no panic, sadness, guilt, fear, anger, happiness, or… anything really. 

‘I guess it’s better to feel nothing than something,’ you thought to yourself.

“Let’s get in the car now, okay?” 

You looked over to your mom, who approached you and gently grabbed your forearm, starting to lead you to your parents’ car. But you dug your heels into the ground making your mom jump as she suddenly jerked back. 

“I want… I want to drive myself.”

Your mother looked at you, eyes pleading. She then glanced at your dad, who softened and sighed. 

“Sweetie, i don’t think that is a good idea-”

“Please… i just… I need some time alone before I go in…”

Your parents shared a glance before your mom slowly loosened her grip on your arm. You slowly began to walk away from her, pulling your arm out of her grip. 

“We’ll follow you,” your dad said, voice steady but still anxious. 

You nodded and headed towards your car. The thought of being alone terrified you in general since the news of Mikey broke, but having a small moment alone in the car sounded heavenly after not being left physically alone, at all, for the past two weeks. You didn’t sleep alone, eat alone, or even shower alone; someone was always there either right next to you or right outside the door. While it was nice to have people around you during this time, you started feeling suffocated and pitied rather than supported. 

The drive was silent. You didn’t bother to turn on the radio or take off your thick coat or even play any of the cds Mikey had burned for you as teenagers like you normally did. Nothing was normal anymore anyways, so why bother?

But regardless, the silence was, in some way, comforting. It granted you the smallest bit of breathing space you knew you needed before you would face death itself.

After parking outside the funeral home, you sat in your seat. The car was off and it was silent as you sat there, not feeling particularly anything, just sort of numb. And for the first time in a while, you felt like you would be okay. It didn’t hurt anymore, just felt numb, and that seemed like progress to you. 

A knock outside your window made you jump and turn around. You expected to see your mom or your dad waiting for you, but was surprised to see Richie instead.

You cleared your throat and rolled your shoulder back, holding your head up high like you normally did, before you got out.

As you started to step out, you smiled at him, “Well don’t you look fine as a peach.”

Richie smiled softly for a brief second before it fell back down into a frown that made the wrinkles around his mouth deepen. He looked unwell, with heavy bags and a gaunt face, making him appear sick. 

While you analyzed him, he did the same for you. He scanned your face and body, seeing the way you continued to be the person he knew you as, even during a time in which nothing made sense anymore for anyone. Your shoulders were square and your head was high, making you look less like a grieving girlfriend and more like a CEO. This made him shiver. 

But regardless, he held his hand out for you to take, helping you up and out of your car. As you locked your car, he began to talk.

“Drove here alone?” he said, voice gravelly. 

“Yea… I needed to be alone.”

He nodded silently. He then took your hand, still in his own, and wrapped it around his arm. He led you to the sidewalk, toward the funeral home, steps slow and purposeful. 

“Everyone is here but you… you don’t have to talk to anyone, okay? If anyone bothers you, come to me.”

You chuckled dryly, “Thanks, but don't worry about me. I know this is hard for you too.”

Before he could retaliate to your words, you cleared your throat and walked a little faster. 

You watched as your parents, who were up ahead of you, greeted Natalie and Pete. You saw the way they moved inside after speaking to her, as if stuck in mud, around the sister of the man you loved. 

They both briefly turned back to look at you, eyes watering and drooping, before anxiously disappearing into the awaiting crowd of family members.

You paused, making Richie also pause beside you, turning to look at you. He saw the way your eyes scanned up the bricks of the building and then back down to the wilted ferns in pots next to the front doors. Your eyes, for a brief second, filled with tears, making him open his mouth before shutting it upon seeing you blink them away. 

You cleared your throat and began to move again, seemingly fine, until your heels began dragging on the pavement. So Richie silently moved his arm up to support you and looked away, staring off to the side. He didn't want you to see the way his eyes had started to tear up as he saw through your facade.

Natalie had focused her gaze on you just after your parents left, face in a permanent concerned frown that made her look more like a mother than anything else, before nodding softly to you, “Hi sweetie… are you ready?”

Were you ready?

“I just…” you began, mouth drying up the second you began to talk.

Natalie nodded at you anxiously, reaching over to take your hand in her own. The calluses she had from years of cleaning up after everyone rubbed soothingly into your own hand.

You shrugged, “...I just feel numb.”

Beside her, Pete winced. Natalie shot him a small glare before softening up as she turned back to you, “It’s okay, you're free to stay out here if you need some space, okay? Whatever it is that you need, let us know and we can help…”

Wordlessly, you rubbed your thumb into her hand and turned to look inside the hallway. A couple family members had already spotted you, their once staring gazes averting themselves from your frame as they noticed you caught them watching. Hushed voices that whispered to one another died down to either silence or near silent whispers as they stole glances at you and Richie walking inside.

You turned and gave Natalie a small smile, "Don't worry about me, are you doing ok-"

"Oh, there you are!!!!" A voice interrupted you, exclaiming loudly. 

You reeled around to the noise and made eye contact with Donna, who was pushing through the crowd and rushing forward to you. Fast.

Your eyes widened. 

Too fast. 

Her body was a blur as she approached you. 

Like a bullet.

In an instant, that moment of breathing space you had in the car disappeared and all that numbness flew out the window, being replaced by intense panic. 

The room started to spin, making your eyes widen as she stood in front of you, speaking what seemed to be gibberish. 

"Shit," Richie mumbled, but his voice was invisible to you. 

All you saw was Donna, hair wild and clothes wrinkled. Her hands moved wildly as she talked, voice so loud in your ears that it felt like your eardrums would pop.

"Mom!" Natalie yelped beside you, finally taking you out of the trance you were in by pushing her body in between you and Donna. 

Donna gasped, speaking hushed but angrily at Natalie, "Natalie, what are you doing? Don't you see I'm trying to talk to her- What do you mean I'm overwhelming her?! She's fine, if she had a problem, she would tell me, isn't that right?"

You saw her peek over Natalie's shoulder, eyes searing a hole into your face, "Right?" 

Your throat tightened. 

"Donna, how about we go ahead and sit so the services can start, okay?" Your mother had rushed over and behind Donna, putting her hands on the erratic woman’s shoulders before steering her away from you. 

Your mom cast you a concerned glance as she redirected Donna away from you, letting her blabber on and on to her about the decor being different and the beautiful flowers they got set up for the service. 

But all you did was stare back, breaths staggered and eyes focusing back only to see all eyes on you. 

Natalie let out a shuddered wheeze, taking the initiative to redirect everyone watching into the room where the services would be taking place. Slowly, their eyes turned away. 

"You ok?" Richie's voice seemed to finally register in your brain. 

You whipped your head to him, "Uhm yea… are you?"

In front of him, he saw the way you rearranged your body language back to its "normal state". Your shoulders rolled back again and your head was held high. But this time, your face was blank and did nothing to show emotion. 

Richie nods, "Let’s just, uh, wait until everyone goes in, ok?"  

You took a shallow breath and blinked your eyes, adjusting to the dim, warm lighting of the building. The entire place felt warm from the artificial fireplace on the left wall, facade made of rich brown oak. The furniture matched in wood, feeling dated but comforting, like a grandmother's house. It made the panic in your body slowly melt away, being replaced by the numb feeling again.

You looked at the yellowish-orange patterned wallpaper and brown wood trimming on the walls and snickered to yourself, catching Richie's attention.

"This place looks like a small, hole in the wall restaurant that's maintained by a family. Mikey loves this kind of family style decor…" 

Richie squeezed his eyes shut, "Yea… he does." 

You watched as everyone filed into the next room, recognizing familiar faces like Fak, cousin Michelle, and Uncle Jimmy. You continued to scan the crowd, not seeing the way Natalie nodded towards Richie, signaling him to take you inside with everyone. 

You let yourself be guided behind the crowd, watching everyone who knew Mikey sit down in the chairs that were set up. Donna was sitting in the front next to your parents, still talking. Beside her were empty seats. There was one, two, three, four, and five; one for you, Richie, Natalie, Pete, and Carmy.

Carmy.

You paused.

"Where's Carmy?" 

Richie stopped moving and grimaced. 

Next to you, Natalie linked your free arm into her own, "He uh… he might come by later." 

"Did he ever respond to any of you? I sent him a photo of the service paper but he never responded to me." 

"Uh…" Richie was seemingly at a loss for words. 

Natalie sighed and looked at Richie before responding, "He didn't to me either. Didn't pick up any of my calls."

The panic started up again, slowly swirling deep in your belly, making you suddenly start to speak at the speed of light, "What? Why? Who wouldn't come to their brother's funeral?"

Natalie gulped, voice shaking as she tried redirecting you, "Hey sweetie, how about we go inside and then wait and see if he comes-" 

"I mean, everyone tried to get in contact with him so it's not like none of us didn't try." 

"Yea, your right, but maybe he is running late and was busy-" 

"If he was running late he would've let us know, i know he would." 

The panic made your breathing pick up, making you lightheaded as you took in gulps of stuffy, warm air. It was perfumed like flowers and mothballs, making you cough lightly. 

Michelle, who was seated towards the entrance of the room, turned to you, as did a couple others, as your voice started to increase in volume. It was unbeknownst to you that you began to speak louder and louder, loud enough that people around you could overhear. 

Richie said your name, stern but still worried, "Hey, take a breath and lower your volume."

"What do you mean? I'm fine?" 

Natalie just shook her head, "This was a mistake, we shouldn't have forced her to come."

You jerked your head to her, "Natalie, it’s fine. Besides, I wanted to come." 

Her shoulders sagged, "If this is too much for you, you are free to go-" 

"Please, I'm fine!" You responded, speech getting faster and faster, "You don't have to worry about me like you're my mom." 

"I know I know, but I worry about you regardless, you're my best friend!" 

"Natalie, I'm okay I swear-" 

Richie whisper-yelled at you two, "Let's take this back out, neither of you are okay right now."

"Richie I swear I'm fine, I just want to see my dead boyfriend in his casket!" You whisper-yelled back as you stomped a foot down.

At this point, others had begun turning to look at you. Natalie flushed, noticing the stares while Richie groaned softly, taking your arm and dragging you away from the entrance and to the front door. 

"Your obviously not okay, just stand here and take some fucking breaths." Richie whispered, voice stern. 

You blinked, letting yourself get pulled like a ragdoll. You stumbled as you leaned into the doorway, feeling shame set in your body. 

That was a new feeling. 

"I'm… i'm…" you began, blinking wildly as your face flushed and your chest tightened. 

"Listen, I know this is hard but don't force yourself to do this for any one of us, okay? You can sit out here and none of us will blame you or be upset. We all have our own ways of grieving and if staying away is yours, then do it. You don't need our acceptance in order to grieve in your own way." 

The tangent Richie went on felt so out of character for him that it made you go silent as you watched him enunciate every word. Natalie trailed behind him, holding onto her body with wide eyes as she too listened to his speech, both moved and confused.

With a choked breath, you responded, "Okay, I'm sorry."

Richie's tensed shoulders and furrowed brows softened. He saw the way you looked down and away from him, body drooping. For a split second, he saw through the demeanor you had been putting on since you got out of the car and saw who you really were: the grieving love of Mikey's life, terrified of what life was going to be like moving forward without him. 

Natalie reached over and rubbed your arm, before turning to Richie, "It's starting, you can go in if you would like…" 

Richie nodded grimly, looking at the floor for a brief second before reaching forward, taking your cheeks into his hand and giving your hairline a small peck. 

"You're not alone with this… we are here." 

You looked at him, a cross of confusion and relief written all over your face, making him hold back a laugh when he noticed it. Upon hearing his laugh mixed with a cough, you chuckled softly to yourself. Natalie was the only one not laughing, but still had a small smile on her face as she watched you two. 

“God this is so weird, are you a wise old man now or something?” You joked, gently pushing Richie’s shoulder.

Richie snorted and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, “Ah it’s nothing, just something i learned… don’t think it’s gonna be this way all the time!”

The three of you smiled at one another, right up until Fak interrupted the sweet moment. 

“Hey guys… uh, the service is starting…”

Richie rocked his jaw, the smile he had disappearing from his face. He turned to Fak, annoyed already by him interrupting, “Listen man-”

Natalie loudly cleared her throat, narrowing her eyes at Richie for a second as a warning, making him trip up on his words. 

Richie coughed again and looked away, mumbling to himself about how annoying Fak was. Natalie just rolled her eyes and turned to Fak, smiling sweetly at him.

“Thank you, we’ll join you in a sec.” 

You watched them all interact with one another, some of the closest people in Mikey’s life that ended up becoming some of the closest people in your own life, but in this moment they felt so far away, emotionally and physically. The random moment of peace between you, Natalie, and Richie was fleeting and reality brought you back down to the present moment, reminding you where you were and why you were here. 

Just seconds ago it felt like a regular everyday moment where the three of you talked, waiting for Mikey to turn around the corner or come in from another room and join you, smirking like he always did. He would wrap his muscular arm around you, pulling you into his side and start to joke around with Richie. He would tap Natalie on her shoulder, acknowledging her, and bring Fak over with a laugh, joining all of you together with ease. Any annoyance and discomfort would just disappear around Mikey; he just knew what to say and what to do to bring everyone, even those with differences, together. 

But that would never happen again. 

Mikey was dead and that would never happen again. 

He would never hold you, pressing his body warmth against you, he would never kiss you, gently guiding your face with his large hand, and he would never love you, ever again. 

Your body seemed to finally catch up with the cocktail of emotions you have been feeling for the past weeks and settled on one to focus on: panic. 

It crawled up your throat, squeezing it in a way that made you feel as if any second now, you would be on the floor, clawing at the rug as you struggled to breathe. But you knew that as long as you didn’t let it overwhelm you, convince it that everything was ok, you would be fine. 

So you were going to do anything you needed to do to not let it overwhelm you again.

“Uh, you two head in, okay? I need a second alone.” you said, making them turn to you. 

With a clearing of your throat, you perked up, smiling, as if nothing that had just occurred even happened. Natalie looked at you, taken somewhat aback and concerned, but didn’t push further. Richie was the same, confused but didn’t want to say or do anything that would make you break down. 

“You sure you don’t want any of us here, we are more than happy to-” Natalie began, but you interrupted her by gently moving a strand of hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear.

“I’m okay, I'll join you in a second. Thank you both for being here with me.” you then brought them both into a gentle embrace, speaking clearly. 

Natalie and Richie exchanged a worried glance behind your back, both struggling to put on a smile to face you when they pulled back. 

Richie began to move to the room where the service had started, “Let us know if you need anything. Text us or call us or just say our name and we will be there.” 

You nodded and shooed them playfully off, leaving yourself standing against the doorway. The doors of the room where service had started closed behind them with a dull thud, leaving you truly alone in the entryway of the funeral home.

Your shoulders and smile dropped, eyes glazing over as you did so. With your heart continuing to race in your chest, you had no choice but to start pacing back and forth. The panic was starting to become too much to control so you tried your hardest to count your breathing, desperate to get it back into control. 

“Fuck…” you whimpered to yourself, feeling tears start to well in your eyes. 

You furrowed your brows and bit your lip, hard. You didn’t want anyone to see you cry, you didn’t want to be pitied. 

Suddenly, the doors opened wide, making you gasp and jump back, cold hands reaching to wipe any tears before you turned to see who was exiting. 

Donna came stumbling out, shushing someone inside, before closing the doors behind her. She sniffed loudly, pushing away her hair from her face right as she locked eyes with you. 

She frowned, continuing to stare at you as she walked forward to where you stood with red rimmed eyes and untouched makeup. She then moved to rifle through her purse, digging for something. 

You watched her silently, feeling your bottom lip quiver as she swayed back and forth.

You continued to watch as she pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, placing the cigarette between her red painted lips and lighting it aflame. With a deep drag and smoke sigh, she finally turned away from you.

She looked outside, staring at the gray clouds and half melted snow. It was getting colder and colder as the evening progressed, making her breaths of smoke even smokier as she breathed out. 

You turned, deciding that it was better to go inside than stand awkwardly around the mother of your boyfriend, whom you didn’t have the greatest relationship with. But right as you took a step, Donna called your name.

You glanced back at her, seeing her stumbling away from you but holding an unlit cigarette out. You were frozen to the spot, unsure whether or not to grab it and join her or go inside. But she seemed to answer that for you when she spoke up.

“Come on, I know you smoke. I’ve seen you and Carmy sneak out to smoke together sometimes during family dinners.”

You winced, feeling your cheeks heat up at having your behavior noticed by the one person you didn’t want to know, but moved forward to accept it regardless. 

As you placed the cigarette on your lips, she reached forward and lit it for you. The deep drag you took filled your lungs, making the chilly air from outside feel much more bearable. 

The two of you just stood there, side by side and silent, together, smoking. 

You burned about halfway through your cigarette before Donna spoke up, making your heart stop at her words. 

“You know… my son died, so I don't know why you are acting like you're the only one who is hurting.”

She threw the stub of her cigarette on the ground and stomped it with her shiny patent leather heel. With arms crossed, she looked at you and, with a low voice, she continued, “Everyone is just flocking to you and when no one gives you attention, you just make a scene and get them all back to you.”

Your entire body went cold.

“My poor Natalie is dealing with the death of her brother and all you do is make her wait hand and foot for you.”

Upon hearing this, all the fear in your body melted away and was replaced with burning hot anger. You knew her words were bullshit, but hearing her talk about Natalie like that, knowing how she treats her, made you clench your jaw.

In a surge of bravery, you retaliated, “Donna, how can you say that?”

She scoffed, “Please, stop acting like you are an angel who has done nothing wrong. You don’t have Mikey or anyone else here to protect you.”

Your mouth drops silently open letting the cig fall from your lips and to the ground, snuffing itself. You scanned her face with your fists balling against your side, seeing nothing but a smug look on her face as she ridiculed you.

With a sharp breath, you began, “You have never treated Natalie like a daughter. You're the one who made her the maid of your family. She practically raised Carmy and does everything for everyone. You made her act like an adult ever since she was a kid and, like everyone else, I had kept quiet about it for so many years just so we wouldn’t upset you. But I'm tired of it, this is the last straw.”

Donna rolled her eyes, “Oh puh-lease-”

But you interrupted her and continued, “So don’t act like you are suddenly concerned with how she is being treated, you never cared when you yelled at her over every little thing, so don’t start now.”

Donna looked at you, dropping her arms and glaring, “I bust my ass constantly for my children, I don't need someone like YOU pretending like you know everything-.”

“Donna, I've been around you since I was in elementary school. I grew up with your kids and around you. I know EXACTLY how you are.”

She clenched her jaw, eyes narrowing. 

But you didn’t stand down, not anymore, “None of your children are saints, but they try so fucking hard to be the best they can be given they had you as a mother. But it’s not like you would ever see that, huh?”

“All Mikey ever did was stress out, because of you! He tried to self medicate with pills and drugs and got addicted, because of you!” Donna suddenly screeched, quickly trying to divert the blame onto you.

You laughed out loud, “I’ve seen him do a couple things once or twice but Mikey was not an addict!”

Donna cackled, shaking her head furiously, “He was!! Ask Richie! Ask anyone! He was an addict, all because of you!!!”

You stepped back, eyebrows furrowing, taken aback at her words. Sure, Mikey was a bit erratic and loud, but that was his personality. He was just that type of person. And yes, he had tried a couple things before and even told you about his experience with them, but he never once did them around you or even mentioned doing them multiple times. He had vices, like smoking and having some drinks, but he wasn’t an addict.

Before you can further question, the doors were pushed open and Richie came rushing out, “What is going on?!”

You opened your mouth to respond but stopped when you heard Donna sob.

You flipped your head around to look at her but were greeted by a sight that made all that panic come barreling toward you again, replacing the anger. Donna was curled into herself, clutching onto her arms, with fat tears rolling down her face. Her sobs shook her body so violently that Richie rushed over and wrapped his arms around her to steady her. 

"What happened!?" Richie repeated, voice softer this time but just as worried as before. 

He looked at you with wide eyes as Donna sobbed, barely speaking through her gasps, "I tried to be the best mother for my children. I don't need you blaming me for my mistakes on the day of my son's funeral." 

As you watched her speak, your veins filled with ice. Only one phrase repeated in your head over and over as Richie looked between the two of you with wide eyes, ‘You fucked up, you need to leave. You fucked up, you need to leave. You fucked up, you need to leave. You fucked up, you need to leave.You fucked up, you need to leave…’

Richie called your name, making you look at him, "What happened?" 

Nothing came from your mouth but a strangled wheeze. You were frozen to the spot, pinned there by Donna's crying and Richie's stare. 

You fucked up, you needed to leave. 

Behind you, the door swung open again and your parents came rushing out with Natalie in tow. A couple peering eyes tried to look out from their seats inside, but the door closed on them before they could put together what was happening. 

"Mom!?" Natalie gasped out, rushing forward to Donna. 

Richie repeated what he said before, but you didn't hear his words. The only thing you could focus on was the way his eyes looked while staring at you, like you were a stranger. 

Donna continued to speak, saying something that was drowned out from your ears, replaced by silence and the deep throb of your heart beat. 

Right before your Mom could reach out to grab your arm, you spoke, "I need to leave, I need some time." 

You pulled the car keys from your jacket pocket and ran. 

[mairitess]

ebbs and flows pt. 2 // jaya

a/n: i wrote this bc i got back into ninjago and i needed to write something for them bc i'm not caught up enough to be able to read the current fics + also on ao3 in caps

words: 1.5k, part one here

tags: angst, fluff, post-skybound, post s10 ninjago: masters of spinjitzu, jaya, no beta we die like kings, they r so traumatized after nadakhan, minor violence mentions from skybound, kiss kiss rated t just in case

preview:

she might’ve missed it, if she weren’t so keyed up already. “you’re my yang, nya.”

the ninjas returned to the temple absolutely beaten. they’d defeated the latest ninjago city menace, but it took more effort than usual. their entire way home, jay was tapping his foot incessantly.

“can you stop that?” cole said, irritated. “you sound like a walking time bomb.”

jay started to apologize. “i’m sorry! i can’t help it. i’m…”

“nervous? anxious? stressed?” the suggestions came in a popcorn chorus from zane, pixal, and kai.

jay put his head in his hands. “yes,” he sighed, defeated.

cole put his hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “what happened…?” to you and nya?

“i have no idea.”

everyone was quiet until they got to the temple. they knew jay was doing his best, and they knew how stubborn and guarded nya could be, too — much like her brother. when they landed, jay filed out last, worry troubling his stomach.

“you got it, jay,” lloyd said, clapping jay on the shoulder. “it’ll be okay.” he turned from jay to look at cole, also unsure. they’d known nya had been different recently, as much as she tried to hide it. but they didn’t know what they could do, especially if jay wasn’t able to fix it.

with heavy heart and steps, jay made his way to nya’s room in the early morning hours. misako and wu were standing just outside her door, making jay even more nervous. he rushed over.

“what happened? is she okay? where is she?” he couldn’t keep his voice down, his lightning energy rushing into his veins again.

“she’s fine,” misako said, placing her hands on his shoulders. “she’s okay. but…” she trailed off, as nya’s door started to open.

it was the first time she’d really looked at him in weeks, and jay’s heart dropped as he saw her bloodshot eyes and dark circles. as much as he was exhausted from their fight in the city, she had been draining for far longer.

“hi, jay.”

—

he followed her into her room, gently closing the door behind them. when she sat on the edge of her bed, he sat a foot away, careful to keep some distance. he didn’t want to make things worse.

“i missed you,” he said, unable to keep it in. “i miss you. i love you. i…” jay suddenly felt too loud, too brash, and worried he’d scare her away again.

“i love you too,” nya replied, tears brimming again. “and i think i’m ready to tell you what happened — or, what’s been happening, and i’ve been so worried to tell you before because i’m scared you’ll hate me and want to leave me but i love you and if that’s how i make you feel then i just want you to be happy and safe and secure and i’m scared when i tell you this you’ll —“ nya cut herself off, too scared to speak into reality one of her biggest fears. “you make me feel more special and confident and myself than anyone i’ve ever known,” she whispered. “and i’m scared you’ll throw me away when i tell you.”

sometimes, even when jay wasn’t talking, nya could still hear the lightning coursing through him. this time, she couldn’t. she was scared to break the silence. she needed to know if he even wanted to hear what she had to say.

and she might’ve missed it, if she weren’t so keyed up already. the quietest he’s ever been, the most hesitant yet gentle and kind.

“you’re my yang, nya. nothing you could say could ever change that.”

jay knew nya well enough to know she was struggling with not feeling like she was doing their relationship “right”. a perfectionist through and through, as soon as things started to dissolve, so did she. but jay needed her the way the moon needs the tides, the skies reaching for the waters beneath. she knew ebbs and flows, but so did he, because he yearned for her throughout.

nya told him of her nightmares, and how she thought she was dying that day. she drew in a deep breath, before she told him that his hold felt the same way. she thought she was angry he wasn’t upset like she was. she wasn’t angry anymore.

he was quiet, processing, until he asked, “do you really think i’m not upset like you?” nya stilled.

“all our friends died. i had just seen you in a wedding dress, and you were about to marry someone else, even if not by choice. and then you started to die in my arms, by a tactical choice i made. it would’ve been all my fault, if you…” he paused. “you’re the love of my life, nya. and i held you as i cried because i don’t know what life there is without you.

“i made my last wish holding you. and everything was good again when we went back and you took my hand. i know that right now my touch feels like… death, but i need you to know that to me, touching you gave us a new chance at life.”

nya was stunned; all she could do was sit there, his words ringing over and over again in her head.

“i love you, nya. i just… need some time to think about it, too. okay?” jay said, standing up. he smiled, but it was small and somber. nya couldn’t help feeling like she’d hurt him, that she’d thought so little of his actions. she nodded, and it wasn’t until her door closed again that she was able to mumble, “i love you.”

—

nya didn’t leave her room all day. she was feeling better, but she didn’t want to step out. kai brought her dinner and they sat side by side as she ate.

“how’s jay?” she asked, and kai shrugged. “he’s been in his room ever since we got back. so i don’t know. but it was a pretty bad fight, so maybe he’s just resting. though normally he’d rest by playing some video games,” kai joked, nudging nya lightly with his shoulder. she quieted again, looking down at her food.

“i think i messed up,” nya said, swirling her spoon in her congee.

“i don’t think you could with jay, sis. he loves you.”

“i know. but that doesn’t mean… that doesn’t mean things will always be okay.”

“sure. but it also doesn’t mean you two can’t be okay, either.” kai paused. “uh, let me say that again. you guys will get through it. that’s what love is. love is about getting through things together, not keeping things perfect all the time.”

nya smiled, genuinely, for the first time in awhile. “when did you get to be wu number two?”

kai laughed. “probably when i realized how much you and jay love each other.”

nya understood it was time to stop fighting the flow. it took the master of water long enough.

—

it was just after 10, and nya needed to see jay. but as soon as she opened her door, there he was, hand poised to knock. he jumped back. “gosh, nya! you’re quiet.”

they stood in her doorway, just looking at each other, not quite sure what to do next. they started speaking over each other in a flurry.

“nya—“

“jay, i—“

nya laughed, and jay could feel everything start to lighten. “come in.”

they lay down on nya’s bed next to each other, closer than they’d been in weeks past.

“i’m sorry, jay,” nya mumbled, drawing circles with her finger into her pillowcase.

“no, i’m sorry, nya. i shouldn’t have left the way i did earlier.”

“it’s okay.” jay raised an eyebrow and nya nodded. “i promise. i’ve… been thinking about it longer than you have. it’s only fair.”

he smiled, and nya kept looking between the freckles across his face and his brilliant blue eyes. how could she have ever been so afraid of what he would say?

“so…” she started. “what now?”

“i don’t want to rush you into anything,” jay said. “i love holding you, and you know how much that means to me, but we don’t have to touch or anything until you’re ready. but i do think it could help,” he offered.

nya shook her head as he talked. “you could never rush me. and i want to fix things. so maybe… we start here?”

she gently grabbed his hand, and placed it on the side of her face, holding him there. nya nudged closer to jay until they were a breath apart. she tilted her head up and gazed at him, waiting.

“i missed you,” nya said, and jay met her halfway, their lips melding into each other where they belonged. softly, first, then as nya grew more incessant, jay matched her, and it was like breathing and drowning in confessions of love all at once.

jay was careful not to move his hand from her cheek, but as they kissed, she moved his hand down to her back, and he pulled her ever closer. nya broke their kiss first to breathe.

“i missed you too,” jay said, one arm behind her back, the other under her neck, cradling the back of her head. they laid there for hours, and just as nya was starting to doze off, jay asked, “nya… what do want me to do if you have another nightmare again?”

she thought about it before, but wasn’t sure what would work until they tried. “just don’t let go,” she mumbled into his chest, and he held her tighter.

[kyojurismo]

★ — disposable .

character : sanemi shinazugawa

summary : accepting to sleep with a rich and spoiled college student, what could possibly go wrong?

tags : modern au, fem!reader, 1.8k words, slight smut, no happy ending, i made sanemi suffer *evil laugh*, reader is a rich spoiled college student btw ( for context ), sanemi is a couple of years older but no age specified so you’re free to choose, does it count as angst? there’s a part where some guy is trying to touch r w/o consent but nothing too bad, alright it doesn’t make much sense so don’t look at it too closely okay, barely proofread of course.

notes : first, i don’t know what this is. second, i wrote this bc i liked the idea of r being the one holding the knife y’know… the initial concept was amazing in my head, but when i finished writing it turned out differently lol. so as i said, do not look too closely and just enjoy reading about sanemi finding himself in such a situation. ALSO, i’m genuinely bad at summarising my works so ignore them bc most of the time they don’t make any sense lmao.

“she’s clearly using you,” tengen raised the cigarette to his lips, after some seconds he blew out the smoke through his nose. “yeah? i don’t really care though.”

sanemi stared down at his drink before gulping it down in one go. he grimaced at the burning in his throat before glancing at his friend. “jeez, have some self-respect, man!” obanai couldn’t believe his childhood friend was alright with that situation. not at all.

“the sex is fine, you know i don’t care about finding a long lasting relationship. so if she just wants to fuck, that’s fine with me.”

was it really fine though?

sanemi stared at your figure, as you grabbed your clothes from the floor and fixed your hair. “hey,” he called for you, making you sigh and turn to look at him. “hm?” you didn’t exactly looked annoyed but he could sense it. “wanna go out for, i don’t know… a date or some shit?” he asked, trying to sound casual about it. you raised your brows, surprised by the sudden desire to see you for something like that.

“oh um. nope?” you chuckled before biting your lips. “plus, i’m busy,” you added and grabbed your phone and keys from the nightstand. “i didn’t say tomorrow or anything. i meant in the future, like some day… i don’t know,” he shrugged and scratched his cheek slowly.

“listen ‘nemi. you have a very nice cock, and your voice is sexy and all… but that’s it, okay? i’m fine with what we do now, and i don’t want anything more,” you explained plain and simple, smiling at the end. “if you can’t keep up with that, we can stop. no grudges,” you added.

“no no, i was just looking for some company to drink because my friends are out of town. i’m fine with just sex,” he was quick to reassure you, offering a smirk.

he didn’t realised his heart skipped a beat when you said you could stop meeting.

─────────────────────

“god…” you sighed deeply and smiled, satisfied. sanemi pulled out and then collapsed beside you, taking a moment to come back to his senses. “you left a hand print,” you complained then, noticing it on your hips.

“not my fault you can’t handle me,” he spat, looking at the ceiling. you were surprised, since he never acted like that. he would always apologise and promise to be more gentle. “okay… i thought you came too, dickhead,” you said in return, offended by his behaviour.

“the fuck– you sure are a spoiled brat,” he glanced at you, noticing your annoyed expression. “yeah, i am. what about it? i thought you were fine with fucking someone like me,” you retorted before trying to sit up. “ha! not yet, darling. i still need to fully empty my balls,” he pulled you back down into the mattress and was on you again now.

you looked at him in surprise before moaning as his fingers moved to your center and started playing with your puffy clit, sanemi watched closely as you twitched under his muscular body. you weren’t really ready to leave.

─────────────────────

as time passed, sanemi grew frustrated with you. he knew you were spoiled and too self-centered, you only cared about yourself and did something only it said something could be beneficial for yourself. but he promised himself it would be fine, he would get the possibility to fuck you whenever he desired and watch your face go stupid while riding his cock.

what he didn’t planned was to somehow fall for you. you knew how to behave like a decent human being, you just preferred to keep going on your path. he thought he could change it, maybe you would fall for him too.

but the more it went on, the more he realised that things never go like we desire.

he sat quietly, sipping his drink, while looking at you dancing and have fun with some random guy. tengen rolled his eyes when he noticed you. “give me one valid reason for her to be here too,” he turned his head to sanemi. “i want to fuck later, it’s easier if we’re already together,” he muttered, making eye contact with you before you purposely leaned over to the guy next to you and started making out with him.

“there are plenty of spoiled brats, but you fell for the worst ever. i swear to god…” tengen’s words became unclear at some point, sanemi’s purple eyes watched how that guy started touching your back and hips, before going to squeeze your butt. you pulled away, trying to stop him.

sanemi was already walking towards you, taking a deep breath. you pushed the guy, yelling at him to leave, but of course he didn’t listen.

“go to hell,” sanemi spat with enough venom to make the guy freeze in place and grabbed your wrist, pulling you away with him. “my saviour!” you hugged his arm happily, giggling softly.

of course you were drunk.

“hi tennie!” you waved energetically at sanemi’s tall friend and he simply glanced at you, not really happy to see you. “my ‘nemi saved me!” you explained, hugging him tighter. “stop,” he tried to make you sit down in front of him, rolling his eyes. “lemme guess… now you’re on babysitting duty?” sanemi glared at tengen, making him understand he had to leave him alone.

“my ‘nemi, what a bullshit,” he repeated under his breath before asking for another drink. you moved your head to the rhythm of the music, laughing a bit too loud to his liking. “stop, you’ll get a headache,” he warned you, feeling like he was talking with a child.

“you’re angry? why?!” you leaned closer to his face, making him flinch away. you changed completely after too many drinks, he hated it. he hated that a part of him found you adorable and wanted to protect you.

“i’m not, now sit down properly,” he sighed, before gulping down the third glass of the night.

“i wanna leave, can we leave please? the room is spinning,” you pleaded, grabbing his hand. “hm, alright,” he helped you down the stool and grabbed your hand. sanemi walked towards the table where his friends were sitting to say goodbye.

“drive safely!” mitsuri smiled at the two of you, always kind. “bye bye,” tengen waved his hand distractedly, focused on listening to something his girlfriend was saying. obanai nodded at him and then you two walked away, towards the exit of the club.

you were singing a bunch of different songs during the whole ride home, chuckling and trying to convince sanemi to do the same, without any results.

once sanemi reached your apartment, he accompanied you and helped you getting ready for bed. he took care of you. once again.

you sank into the bed and giggled, rambling about something. sanemi made sure to leave a glass of water on your nightstand, with some painkillers for tomorrow morning.

he stared at you for a couple of moments, deep in thought.

“i can’t keep up with all this,” he said then, even though he knew you couldn’t hear now, you just fell asleep after all. “somehow… for some reason, i love you. i’m fucked up in the head, i guess. but you’re not the right one for me, so i have to let you go,” he caressed your warm cheek gently, looking down at your peaceful expression. “even though i don’t want to… that’s what i have to do.”

tears formed into his eyes quickly as he leaned over and kissed your forehead, caressing your face one last time. he pulled back and glanced at you before finally turning around to exit your bedroom and your apartment. he wiped away the tears before entering his car and start the engine.

sanemi was ready to disappear from your life, and what hurt the most was that you seemed to be completely fine with that. after all, sanemi was the one always calling you and messaging you in the past year, so why would it change?

[radishhqueen]

ao3 questions!

thanks @plothooksinc for the tag 🥺💕 i am always psyched to talk about writing.

1. How many works do you have on AO3? Somehow I've reached 10 whole works... 9 of which are completed.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 193,772. Shit I gotta write something to break 200k.

3. What fandoms do you write for? rottmnt pretty exclusively. I never have been so plagued by a media that I felt the need to write it down before. Insane that the ninja turtles got me.

4. Top five fics by kudos?

how to get very good at juggling - 1,079

vigilantism for fun and profit - 410

it's too early for this - 322

the ol switcheroo - 321

stuck between a rock and a hard place - 207

5. Do you respond to comments? Yeah!! At least if there's something to like, reply to. I get very giddy about doing it, so if you've ever received a rambling five paragraph essay from me uhhh enjoy my stream of consciousness.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't think any of them have angsty endings? Mostly bc i need all my little guys to be happy. the ol switcheroo is the fic that I cried the most writing though, hands down.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Again, all happy endings, but HMMMM how to get very good at juggling may be the happiest. It's a hard pick tho.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Nah.

9. Do you write smut? Not that anyone gets to see.

10. Craziest crossover? I've never written one! I tend not to seek them out, though there are definitely a handful I'm very fond of.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I'm aware of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yeah! My friend and I have been co-writing a fic on and off since about 2018. It's just for us, really, since it's basically a post-canon fic of an RP that we were in from like 2009-2013ish? Anyway the lore doesn't make sense but the character dynamics compel me so here we are. I've got some snippets and some drawings for it in #rs tag.

14. All time favourite ship? Not a big shipping person!

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I intended on writing more for hot girl summer, but considering I haven't updated it in about a year, and I never really had a plan in the first place, and I feel like the last posted chapter ended in a very conclusive place, that ship has probably sailed.

16. What are your writing strengths? The Bit. She's my #1, I never forget. My favorite comments are along the lines of "please stop making me laugh during this very sad section". People have different tastes of course, but I find that consistent, oppressive angst is just not...appealing to me, and if the angst goes on for too long, I'll just drop the fic. I like to add a little levity to the mood, or at least some dark humor.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Ough. Planning is a bad one for me. I didn't have an outline for any of my fics, besides some rough mental plans. for the ol switcheroo, I didn't even have an ending figured out when I started writing it. Actually coming up with ideas can be difficult, and I usually need to have something actively eating away at my brain in order for it to make it onto paper.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? Depends on if the POV character understands it or not. If they don't, I'll usually just write like "Character B said something in Spanish." If they do understand it, I'd write, "Character B started speaking in Spanish. "Do you drink milk?"" Maybe put it in italics if it doesn't seem super clear? The exception would be like, if a character is peppering words from another language, a bit like Leo and Spanish in rottmnt.

19. First fandom you wrote in? Technically I wrote some Pokemon fic back in like 2008. It was OC fic and I could not tell you for the life of me what it was about though.

20. Favourite fic you've written? vigilantism for fun and profit may be the one that I reread the most, though I do reread all the fics in the mean teen fighting machines series. The fic that single-handedly gave me Foot Clan brainrot. Casey Jones isn't even my favorite character in the show as written.

tagging @witchofthemoss @sroloc--elbisivni @crows-murder o/ i would love to see your words

[heatherthetiredwriter]

20 Questions for Writers

Thanks for the tag @autumnwoodsdreamer <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently just one! I've got two others sitting around in drafts but I've not published them

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

8,742

3. What fandoms do you write for?

My one fic I've published is a crossover for three fandoms, Big Hero 6, Tangled: the Series, and Tales of Arcadia: 3 Below. So I guess I write for those three. And my other two unpublished fics are for Frozen and How to Train Your Dragon. DC as well kinda.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Well I've only got one so the list is just

A Game of Keep Away

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I love comments and try to respond to them as soon as I get them! They make me so happy! Though... I do have a problem with... comments.... that I know come from a specific person being on multiple accounts that I try not to engage with too much.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

So A Game of Keep Away is again the only one I've published and its got a LOT of angst and much more to come-- but my unpublished Frozen fanfic probably has the angstiest ending of them all

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

It's not really spoilers, especially since I haven't written it all yet, but A Game of Keep Away will have a happy ending! My unpublished, unfinished httyd fic probably has the happiest ending, but that fic is like never ending I swear---

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Never hate, which I'm glad for. I've had grammar police. But I don't mind them cos "dang it, how didn't I catch that?" My problem, again is mostly with the one specific person who comes and finds my fic no matter where I post it and comes at it with this energy that I do not enjoy. I am glad this person likes my fic but my goodness I don't need that energy in my space when I'm trying to write 😭

9. Do you write smut?

Nope.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes! I already mentioned my only published fic right now is a crossover! I love writing crossovers!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I've had so many things stolen off of Wattpad. So. Many. Stories. Oh my goodness.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I am currently co-writing a fic with my boyfriend and our other friend, its called The Last Bat and I am just remembering its also on AO3 I think and that means some of my answers might be incorrect bc I didn't take into account that fic but I don't care cos its not on my account its on his

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

How could you ask me to choose between my favorites like that??? But it might have to be one from How to Train Your Dragon? It was the first thing I really got into. I remember shipping Hiccup and Astrid so hard. And Heather and Fishlegs as well. So maybe one of those two.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My httyd fic... It's too big of a fic to actually write I'm pretty sure. I might could make it smaller, but I'm certain it would take years to actually write out. I think currently it sits at seventy-five chapters? or something like that? But those were twelve year old me chapters and so I would want to re-write them and make them better.... and then I'd have to continue the story.... Like in my head, I'm fond of the story because it was my first ever fic, and because it was a way I connected with my now dead great-grandmother when she lived so far away from me (yes, I did get my great-grandma to sign up for a wattpad account when I was 12), but I don't know if I have the stamina to keep that up again. Plus this was the fic that kept getting stolen. I'm sure its floating around the internet somewhere, despite the fact that I took it down from all my platforms.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've been told I'm really good at getting into a characters head. And I'd like to agree. Once I'm in, I know their everything. What they eat for breakfast. What color their socks are. How they'd react to the stupid trolley problem. So I never have any problems showing how a character reacts to something. How it makes them feel.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I definitely could be more descriptive. I've noticed I've only ever been descriptive with a character once and that was just because I was so into her head and I knew that instead of focusing on the dangerous missions she was on, realistically she'd be like "Oh I wonder what kind of fertilizer they are using for their poppies? They are beautiful!" So since then I've been trying to paint a visual picture better. Something that I am finding to help is figuring out my setting beforehand and like mixing ambiance players to give the right vibes. Then it tends to come easier. But its something I need to work on for sure.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

In the wise words of @autumnwoodsdreamer "One word: italicise." But also yeah I'll mix in other words. I've done a lot of dragonese for different httyd things. Elvish too.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

How to Train Your Dragon

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Its not published anymore, it didn't survive my personal purge, but it was a crossover between httyd and the hobbit movies. One of my ocs antagonists from my httyd fic got teleported into the hobbit movies and fell in love with Kili. Who then of course dies at the end of the movie and she steals his body and does the whole viking burning boat funeral to try and send him to Valhalla. And then she comes back to her world and the main fic and is like "Imma be a better person so I can be with Kili in the afterlife :)" It was so cringe, but I was free and innocent and thought it was the coolest thing ever and I wrote like I was the most talented person in the world and honestly 12 year old Heather was onto something bc I'd like half of her confidence

No pressure tagging: @susanshinning @rachelbethhines shooot im trying to think of people I know that post on ao3........ if you post on ao3 then please feel free to join!!!!!

[run2seob]

5 things you like about 5 of your moots?

turned from subtly fangirling to "i'm (not)subtly in love with u and your blog" but thank u for the ask bcs i have an excuse to >:)

@gyuletters

her ability to write a variety of genres without using cliches

her kindness ^^ she's always complimenting accounts and writng the best reblogs

her theme (it's soo pretty) and how well it represents her. star's personality is so sweet and i feel like her theme reflects that

she comes up with the best prompts too! like i'm envious of her brain

how comforting her fics are (and binge worthy~)

@junoswrlld

even before me and juno became close, they were so so kind to me T0T

her ability to pace herself and balance her fics and personal life (i genuinely could not do this like.. admirable, seriously)

her crack ficshehsh they're so good >< she makes chapters leave you with suspense every time

how many memes she finds. it's one of my fav things because how do i wake up to 40 cat and scrimbo memes 😭

how reliable she is!! i can trust her with my fics and spoilers and it's so nice :> she gives motivation and gained my trust so easily :')

@mazeinthemoon

i can't believe i only have to do five?? i need more space to write about how moon writes. the way emotion is captured into her writing is filled with suspense but also comfort? like, in between dialogue, there's those quotes that you replay in your mind over and over again because how could someone think of that?

^^ adding onto this, the way she incorporates figurative language into her text perfectly captures the moment. it's not blatant and keeps the sentence flow which is impressive. as a writer i respect moon even more because even i struggle with that T0T

i've said this for everyone but can you blame me? they're all kind, moon included! she's always answering asks in the kindest way

^^ additionally, the way she types is so cute. and by this i mean kaomojis and emoticons. i love emoji faces so much hehe

best for last ofc~ her fics in general! glitter and the goalie both had me hooked. like essay long notes and annotations. i might reread glitter because of how on the edge it had me and bcs of her recent post.. detective reader activated >:)

@hueningsloverr

RHIA'S ANGST. that's shakespeare's child now, seriously. the way she writes angst is beautiful.. but like beautiful in a way where it feels like a pretty statue of a little girl crying but it's beautiful. beautiful in the way where it hurts but is pretty... makes you cry tears bcs of how well it was written yk?

the way she views things is soo beautiful. like in her reblogs and how she views songs. (could write an essay) when she wrote txt x time in a bottle it fit with the boys perfect and was just so pretty. there's so many quotes i remmeber and trust i'm not forgetting

i'm gonna make these shorter but how many ideas she comes up with. i could never T0T

her themeee

i wished i talk to her more!! i'm always scared to talk to my moots but i love her pseonality i would be so happy to talk to her more but i'm too scared

@huenation

themethemetheme it's so cute

idk if this counts but i was reading their bf beomgyu texts and was listening to hea and read the "oh my god" as the same time as the song said it and can't forget about that 😭

ugh my top 5 comfort fic being soobin meeting yns parents like.. i love this fic so much and ik this isn't recs but they write so well 😭 the moment is always described in the best ways and i can visualize them so well

i don't talk to amor much but i love their posts/txt reblogs ><

and that i wish them happiness. i know a lot of people's posts and writings reflect their emotions, and i just hope they're doing well. everyone has bad times, but it really depends what mindset you approach them with, you know? i just hope they get to smile :)

[lostmykeysie]

I have a super long comment for you about the Horcrux Hunt bcs I want to comment every chapter I read but I forget bcs I download the ao3 doc to my books app okay here we go!!!!

Agahdgdjd I just finished reading it and I loved it soooo much. Remus and regulus friendship is EVERYTHING to me. The platonic kissing!!???? As an Aspec gal this means so much to me bcs ahhhdghdhd and let’s be real those two deserved a little song after all that tension and then just cute little kisses bcs they both need a good loving friendly kiss aww. And I loved the flirtiness bcs I just know those two would constantly have such good banter and get along and I SOBBED when reg became a part of the lupin family. Also. HOPE LUPIN.!?!??? The best Hope I ever did read about. She is amazing and now the only version of Hope I accept ty very much.

ALSO also I love regulus so much and love your characterization of him and seeing his growth. Also I am autistic and I headcanon reg as autistic and there were so many moments in the way you wrote him that fit in with that that made my heart so happy UGH and some moments where I felt like he’s aspec of some sort like aro specially and wow reg my boy <3

And ugh Remus and his feels over being accused as the traitor??? Rough but also I love the angst. His complicated feelings about himself and others and I can’t wait to see him sort shit out and start healing bcs he deserves to heal and be ANGRY and sad and everything. Remus my best boy <3

Also I’m just getting into jegulus so I’m super excited to start reading the missing link!!! The way james is already slowly creeping on him agshdjd I can’t wait to see it all happen.

OKAY THATS ALL I LOVE U AND UR WORK AND U ARE AMAZONG OKAY BYE GONNA GO READ THE MISSING LINK NOW HEHEHEH :))))

Oh PS I loved Remus getting to scream and go off on dumbledore that was amazing and more people should get to scream at him.

i always download long fics to my kindle so i feel you baby!!!!!

putting my boring reply below the cut xxxxx

aspec babes deserve all the platonic kisses they want and deserve and they deserve them all xxxxx this includes me so WHY is no one kissing me platonic smooch smooch xxxxx i have said this before and i know i haven’t written it but reggie is definitely aspec xxxx

regus friendship means soooo much to me i have also said this before and i will absolutely say it again but like. i am obsessed with them. they are BEST friends. forever. they are something special that’s friends and family and more and i love them forever and they will always be besties in every single fic i write for the rest of my LIFE. and they FLIRT and i LOVE IT and hope is such a queen i feel like she deserves her own fic i also want to hug her i bet she would give the best hugs ever i bet she’s the only person regulus is 100% comfortable having those long hugs with that last arguably too long and it gets weird (this is how i feel about most hugs)

omg so i’m answering as i read so YES i AGREE i think there’s a tiny bit of me that is accidentally being a bit self insert with reg LOL ANYWAY i think we see reg very similarly xxxx

on the traitor point… a few people have said ‘how did he even forgive them in the end’ and i think that is so valid like to get over a betrayal like that from your closest friends would be so so so hard and i tried to reflect that and not just make it an easy fix because oh my god how is that not in the back of your mind always just whispering all the time??? like getting over that would be a JOURNEY so yeah it got a bit angsty haha but i feel like if anything it could have been worse it could have been unresolveable !!!! but it will never be because i am a happily ever after boy ONLY

i am a bajillion years late to this i’m really sorry i’m a pants person who is 99% offline BUT thank you so much for your consolidated comment it’s so sweet and has made me smile all lame and gross xxxx i hope you enjoy / enjoyed TML too i hope that it gave you the healed remus and the jegulus you deserve and maybe some giggles hopefully xxxxxxx thanks for being nice to me lol i honestly am so weird and lame and awkward but kiss kiss i am blushing like a loser xxxxxxxxx

[wikiangela]

20 Questions for fic Writers!

tagged by @spotsandsocks @jesuisici33 thank you 💖💖

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

81 so far, and always working on more haha

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

481,097

3. What fandoms do you write for?

currently only 911, but I did write mcu and spn and if inspiration strikes might go back (kinda missing sambucky tbh, might need to write something for them soon haha)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

(four out of these are buddie, last one is my first ever sambucky fic that's still somehow up there lol) 1. For a holiday (and forevermore) 2. I can't love you any more (than I do now) 3. There’s no way that it’s not going there (with the way that we’re looking at each other) 4. I'd marry you with paper rings 5. "You should smile more"

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! always love to thank everyone for reading, and appreciate that they took the time to comment <3

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

generally angst is not particularly my thing, and there are always happy endings in mine lol - but around the lightning arc I wrote a few angsty-ish fics, and I guess these two might count? Fine and don't know what I'd do if your tomorrow never came

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

like all of them have happy endings haha - but i'd say the holiday fic -For a holiday (and forevermore) - might be the happiest?? (or just satisfying after the slow burn and them being fake dating oblivious idiots haha)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not really, I did get like two not so nice comments ever (one even very recently, and I'm in a place where it hit harder than the previous one lol but it's fine) but generally I don't, my comments are filled with love and I appreciate that so much <3

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do now lmao - it's the very sappy kind with lots of feelings - other than that, I'm still trying out new stuff haha

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't - there's one that I'm not sure if it counts but I did write a mcu with netflix marvel shows crossover bc I'm dying to see Jessica Jones interact with Bucky lol - nothing crazy tho, just them lowkey trauma bonding - but other than that, no, not really writing crossovers, idk, haven't tried any yet haha

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

don't think so

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

got two requests but their ideas were so not my thing, so no, I haven't idk if i'd be good at co-writing but if we vibe and the idea is good I won't say no to trying haha

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

gotta say buddie, they took over my brain like no ship ever before

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

the 5+1 nicknames fic - something there is just not working and I want to rewrite the whole thing but can't get around to it - this and one other fic have been postponed since like january, don't know if I'll get back to them tho i want to :(

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm pretty good with dialogue and feelings and in smut I'm good at making it soft and sweet but also hot and horny at the same time haha and usually can write characters so that they don't feel too ooc (I think? that's the feedback i often get, idk lol)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

overusing the same words over and over again (but like, synonyms don't hit the same lol), probably way too many adverbs, and I'm not great with descriptions of characters or places etc and trying to work on that haha

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

feels awkward - a word here and there is fine, but whole conversations both in reading and writing feels awkward and out of place idk (I think I wrote a whole line in one fic and it's so bad haha)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

when it comes to shows, spn - destiel before that, unfortunately, was rpf and 1d but we don't talk about that

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

it's between the possessive smut and the car smut tbh lol I love both so much (possessive maybe a bit more tho? just a tiny bit haha - but gonna link both here lol)

I could get lost in the feelings (just say that you belong to me)

baby, you drive me wild

___

no pressure tagging: @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @giddyupbuck @callaplums @forthewolves @eddiediaztho @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @loserdiaz @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @watchyourbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @hippolotamus and whoever else wants to do it <3

[aspiring-artist-em]

get to know better tag

thank you @achilleslikespeas!! you're so so amazing omg- anyhoo

three ships: wolfstar, ineffable husbands (someone pls talk to me about good omens I literally can NOT rn), drarry

first ship: drarry, it’s a tried and true ship for me, ive been shipping it since I was like, a child  (literally flashback to me at like, 7 years old telling my mom that harry and Draco should get over each other and buy a castle and live together forever as a happy couple (parents were not happy that their daughter was saying this (they were homophobic( (im now gay and still shipping it so suck it, ig)))

last song: I would love to lie and say its something cool like “killer queen” or “lady stardust” bc I listen to those a lot, but once again, I would be lying and my actual last song that I listened to was “no hands (ft. Roscoe dash and wale)”, yk, the frat party song, I like to play it while writing angst

last movie: Harry Potter? idk what one, I like to put the tv on while I do stuff like budget money and write fanfic and draw, so honestly idk, it was probably the chamber of secrets, that and poa are my all time favs 

currently reading: ur mom LMAO (im so sorry) no, what im reading is smut, and also like, a good omens fic about Crowley’s fall (witness the fall) bc im trying to forget about season 2′s ending. im also reading away childish things (again) bc like, that's one of my fav drarry fics of all time. if we’re talking about marauders fics, it was probably her body is a temple down in the frozen food aisle  by achilleslikespeas, both for my emotional masochistic enjoyment and bc I wanted to draw a scene in the story (go read it now pls, its really good, Claude is really good a writing and im freaking out bc I wanna draw a scene from every single one of their fics I- like go-to horror dead dove fics for me I reccomend Claude and for smut I go to moonie), if we’re talking books books, Ive been reading yellowface and I am a cat which so far, are really really good, but also like, im really bad at reading so like, I haven't actually touched them in a week LMAO

currently watching: good omens, its playing on my tv in the background both because I love it and also because Neil said if u stream it enough amazon will see how valuable it is (with the strike and everything) and like, actually be willing to negotiate, essentially, help out the strike, go watch gay celestial beings 

last thing i wrote: 'Til Death Do Us Part, and Even Then, I'll Do My Best to Stay With You, its a dead dove fic centering around grief and denial, uh, 2 chapters in lol

currently writing: I have like, a million wips and no motivation to write rn so lets dive into them lol

1) chapter 3 of do death do us part, very sad, like, maybe 3 sentences in?

2) the next part of my lesbian wolf star series, its the one right before the trail one, so like, part 10 is gonna be another chapter centering more around Sirius’s memories and part 11 is gonna be the trial, I have like, 2 separate things ive written for it and I need to decide where I want it to go tbh

3) smut, gay wolf star, frat hazing blow or blow smut. sirius is on his knees and almost throws up but he doesn't and its lowkey like actually non con but its also frat hazing, like, idk how to explain the vibes but sirius is referred to as a dog and a filthy animal and degraded and he's sucking remus’s dick on coke and im like 2k words in and like, running out of ways to describe a cock lol (its also hard to bc like, I don't have a dick and my textbooks are no help sometimes) but he is also called the “pike puppy” and like, I think im smart for that and also its really filthy ngl, not a happy ending?

4) a short fluff fic to make up for the angst I put my readers through, im like 200 words in

5) au kinda thing, inspired by don't worry darling and like a TikTok that I saw (and now people are commenting on me commenting if I can write the idea and asking for the fic name and like, Im 500 words in? pls I need time), the idea is that Dumbledore has everyone under imperio or a potion to get them on his side to fight for him, lily’s pov, I really like it so far, uhh im like 500 words in I think?

so yeah, when I get inspiration im gonna write everything all at once lol, probably when my body isn't trying to kill me lmao or im at work

tagging: @spookymoonie @pinklume @wxlfstxrisbest @spindrifters @siriuslystargazing @siriusly-sapphic @green-lights-33

[vaultscavver]

wasteland, baby!

falloutober2023 day six: MONUMENT (5.2k // eventual nora x hancock x maccready)

a/n: so october is over :( happy november!! i'll still write all the amazing @falloutober prompts just for funsies bc i like the prompts and also im really sad that i didn't get the time to write last month. also i wrote this in the middle of the night on my phone after i woke up weirdly inspired for a kind of gory, creepy chapter with hella angst so tw for mentions of blood, panic attacks, puking, drug usage, feral chomp chomps, nora's sad memories overlapping her horniness for hancock, and uhhh rlly long paragraphs sorry

synopsis — med-tek research is a maze of ferals and dead-ends, but this crew of stubborn miscreants are determined to find the cure maccready needs. days go by in those hallowed walls; what’s the price for saving a life?

─ ─── ──── ─── ♠ ─── ──── ─── ─

Nora clawed at her gasmask, choking on her own sobs as she suffocated. The ventilation system was clogged, preventing her from getting any air in. Her hood was already torn off, thrown to the ground with her jacket – funny, she had tightened the straps of her mask as much as possible, thinking it would save her life, not kill her quicker.

Bodies laid sprawled around her, the blood and goo of half-decayed ferals clinging to every inch of her body, her gloves slick with it and her boots sliding in it. Her mask stuffed with feral guts. Every inhale was rotten, every gasp putrid.

Her knees hit the floor with a crack. Unable to get the mask off, Nora began to hyperventilate, tugging uselessly at the straps, her own modulated gasps filling the air, the sounds of machinery overlapping her cries.

Distantly, she heard the uneven footsteps of more ferals running along the aluminum floors and wondered if they were coming to finish her off. Gunshots rang through the air, far from her – too far.

Nora had fallen; she didn’t know how far, but she had fallen through broken floorboards and had landed right on top of a glowing feral and its friends. They had attacked instinctively. She had barely survived the fight.

“Nora?!” Someone shouted, too far away.

She struggled to respond, barely managing to whimper as she tugged on her mask, tugging, tugging, tugging – she couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, the damn mask wouldn’t come off –

In an instant, it was like the world was clear again.

Heaving, Nora fell to her hands and knees, inhaling her first breath of unfiltered air in weeks.

Then, she promptly turned and vomited.

Hands were on her back, her neck, scooping her short hair out of the way and rubbing her shoulders in soothing circles as she gagged and coughed, blinking hot tears out of her eyes. Breathing raggedly, Nora only managed to keep upright thanks to those hands, which held her gently as she trembled, jitters taking over as she panted, gasping for air.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Nora breathed in square rotations, trying to come to her senses. Those gentle hands moved her to sit on the ground, away from the ferals and puke, propping her up against the metal walls and peeling her gloves off, dropping them on the floor with her coat.

“Nora?” A deep, guttural voice asked so tentatively, so carefully.

In front of her, looking worried and a little lost, Hancock knelt, his red frock coat splattered with blood and feral gore.

Her mask dangled from his fingertips. The straps were frayed like they’d been sawed off. In his other hand was a switchblade.

Oh.

“Thanks.” She managed to grind the word out, her voice thick and uneven, sounding strange to her own ears without the modulator making her sound like a robot.

Hancock didn’t respond. He was so uncharacteristically quiet, not even sparing her one of his trademark smiles as he dropped the mask and stowed his knife, digging through the endless pockets of his coat.

An inhaler appeared in his hand, extended towards her.

Nora just stared at it, feeling a million miles away. She’d seen him use it before — what had he called it? Jet?

She’d never used an inhaler before, though she knew the mechanics of it. There were a lot of so-called chems to be found in post-apocalyptic Boston, but she hadn’t touched any of them (except when MacCready stabbed her with what he called a stimpack, but that hardly counted) and she certainly wasn’t brave enough to try Jet on her own when she didn’t know what it was supposed to do.

But… she was desperate. And she certainly wasn’t alone now.

Her stomach roiled as she reached for the inhaler with shaking hands, feeling like the entire world was twisting and she didn’t get the memo.

Trembling, Nora almost dropped the plastic. Hancock carefully put a hand around hers and brought the inhaler to her lips, his other hand cupping the back of her head to hold her in place as he slowly pushed the canister for her. The metering valve was sent into the actuator with a click, followed by the hiss of aerosol.

“Breathe in and hold,” Hancock instructed in that growl of a voice.

It tasted like shit. Literally, the aerosol tasted like actual shit. Still, Nora did as she was told, holding her breath until he gestured for her to exhale, lowering the inhaler.

And then she felt very, very cold.

The Jet worked almost immediately — the world moved in slow motion as a billow of white smoke swirled from Nora’s lips. Light filtered through the particles of dust hanging in the air, the room bathed in a green glow thanks to the radioactive ferals accompanied by Nora’s Pip-Boy screen, the brightness turned all the way up to work like a flashlight, so she could actually see the zombie-like feral ghouls she had nearly been killed by.

MacCready had been very stern that they were not zombies, they were ferals; ghouls that had gone feral with irradiation, madness taking over what was left of their mushy brains. They didn’t attack because they were violent creatures or because they wanted to eat people. They attacked because it was all that was left of their survival instinct. They were human, once, then ghoul, and had simply gone feral. Sometimes, people went from human to feral in a matter of minutes, if the radiation was potent enough. Sometimes they stayed ghoulified for hundreds of years – MacCready had told her that there were still ghouls from before the bombs; people that had never gone feral, who had survived for two centuries in the wastes. Nora didn’t know which fate was worse.

Wondering how long it would take herself, a pre-war vault dweller with minimal exposure to radioactivity, to go feral, Nora felt the Jet start to ease off as quickly as it came on, and her mind flooded with everything she’d been trying not to over think about.

They were in some lower level of Med-Tek. MacCready wasn’t kidding about the ferals being no easy task, but he hadn’t known just how large the building was. His old buddy had barely breached the entrance. The cure, the medicine Duncan needed, could’ve been anywhere — even with the help of their comrades, it had taken more than a day to get through the patient quarters and into the basement, where Nora hoped all the still-processing medications would be stored.

If her worst fears came true, both Nora and MacCready could end up childless. She doubted she’d ever see her son again, with how many times she’d utterly failed in hunting down his kidnapper. Seeing her closest friend go through that as well… They had to find this cure. They had to save Duncan, no matter the cost, no matter how long it took.

“You still with us?” Hancock asked, and as Nora’s focus returned to him, she realized that he was holding her jaw, his rough fingertips pressed firmly against her pulse point, feeling her heart race.

“Whatever that was,” Nora answered, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth, “I want seven.”

Cracking a grin, the ghoulish mayor slid his hand down her cheek until he held her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Good news, I have more. Bad news, I’ve seen your face and I’m a changed man. Nothin’ is gonna be the same for me here on out. Shame on you.”

She rolled her eyes with a scoff. “You also saw me puke my guts out, so take your pickin’ of shame.”

Giving a short laugh, Hancock dug around in his red coat again, depositing his Jet and procuring a silvery flask, which he uncorked and held out for her. “And here I thought you were hiding some kind of wicked scar. Lemme guess, you didn’t want your pretty face getting mucked up?”

“Something like that.” The whiskey burned its way down her throat until the flask was empty and Nora finally felt warm again. She hadn’t liked whiskey in her old life.

Handing the flask back to the ghoul, she tried to stand, stumbling twice. Hancock helped her up and kept a grasp on her shoulders as she swayed, feeling dizzy and too loose, too relaxed.

“Give it a few minutes.” He muttered, gently rubbing a hand up and down her shoulder as he led her away from the glowing feral corpses. “Jet’s not always my ride of choice, I’m more of a Mentats ghoul myself. Makes me feel intellectual and shit.”

“Hm. Can I try that one?”

“Only if you promise to take it easy,” He said, already taking the tin out of his coat, popping the lid and taking one for himself before extending it to her.

Nora took one of the small mints with a careful hand, still feeling sluggish. It was grape flavored, the sweet and fruity mint spreading in her mouth with a cold, sharp feeling. And, like a light switch, Nora felt herself become more alert, more aware of their surroundings. The sluggish feeling melted away and she was left jittering, blinking quickly as she took in their room with a new fervor.

“How many floors did I fall?” She asked Hancock in a single quick breath, turning to look at the damaged floor above them.

He gave a hapless shrug and picked up his shotgun. “Around two? This shithole goes on forever. I followed you down, but there’s no telling where the others got to.”

Nora checked and double-checked her pistol, furrowing her brows. He had followed her? Jumped down two stories of broken flooring? She turned to look at the corpses of the glowing ferals, her Pip-Boy’s internal Geiger Counter giving a few warning clicks.

Without the lenses of her mask, the world seemed… bigger, clearer. Every detail of the ferals was like a pinprick on Nora’s heart, stabbing deeper and deeper; they wore lab coats and scrubs, torn apart and stained and ruined. They were human, once. They were alive, once. And all that life had been taken from them and they had spent two centuries trapped in a metal building, going insane with radiation until they were glowing with it.

She tore her gaze from them and side-stepped, circling the room and taking in the crumbling walls and ceilings, the broken lights and the machines that were beyond repair. Med-Tek was a medical research facility, and a lot of useful med gear had been left behind – Nora was quick to pocket any spare gauze, a first-aid kit, and the few sanitary products she trusted enough to shove into her bag – into MacCready’s army green duffle bag, slung over her shoulder.

Nora anxiously raked her short hair out of her face. Mac was somewhere above them, in some upper level of this shithole, hunting for the cure to save his son. He was with Nick Valentine, who was a detective, and MacCready had scoped out Med-Tek before – they had more luck finding the cure than Nora and Hancock did.

Spinning on her heel, Nora met Hancock’s attentive gaze. He had been watching her investigate every drawer and table in the room, and looked amused at her sudden attention.

With her mind still going a mile a minute, Nora found her curiosity piqued by the ghoul mayor, especially considering the fact that he was a ghoul in the first place – the first one she’d met and the only one she’d consider herself to be friends with.

“What’s your story, Hancock?” She asked, turning to shuffle through more drawers, unable to keep still.

His crooked smile widened. “My favorite subject! Let’s see... I wound up in Goodneighbor about a, uh, a decade ago? Had smooth skin back then. While I was busy making myself a pillar of the community, I would go on these, like, wild tears… I was young, takin’ any chems I could find, the more exotic the better. Finally found this experimental radiation drug. Only one of its kind, and only one hit. Oh man, the high was so worth it… I’m livin’ with the side effects now, but hey, what’s not to love about immortality?”

Thinking over his words, Nora slowly shut the file drawer and raked her hair from her eyes again. Her hair, a deep brown and cropped just under her ears, was greasy and tangled with neglect, knotted where her gas mask had rested on it for too long. She wondered what she would have to do to get her hands on some real soap, maybe a comb.

How much radiation would it take for Hancock to go feral? Was that even a possibility, if he was the only ghoul of his kind? His last word clicked, then, and she was repeating it as a question before she could over think his meaning. “Immortality?”

Leaning his shoulders back against the wall just as comfortably as he could’ve done in a fancy bar, Hancock gave a half-hearted shrug. “Not exactly. Ghouls just age really, really slow. Something about the rads, maybe? Who knows.”

“Hm.” Nora did one more turn around the room, making sure she didn’t miss any supplies. “All those drugs certainly prepared you for a career in politics.”

“Don’t go bringin’ me down, Sunshine,” He gruffed out, metal tin rattling as he plucked out another grape-flavored Mentat for himself. “People respect me ‘cause I don’t put myself above them, alright? I sling and shoot just like the next guy.”

Backtracking quickly, Nora turned back to Hancock, raising her hands palms-forward as a gesture of peace. “I just meant you could’ve gotten yourself killed. Experimental radiation drugs don’t sound exactly… safe.”

It sounded lame to say it out loud, and felt lamer when Hancock’s smirk grew into a teasing grin. “I like to think of death as the ultimate drug trip. When it happens, I’ll be too busy enjoying it to have any regrets.”

This was a different world, Nora reminded herself. Drugs – or chems – weren’t too dangerous in comparison to the lives of survivors out in the Commonwealth. Still, she just shook her head, checking her ammo for the third time. “You’re a hell of a risk-taker, Hancock.”

“You only got one life. Why not try it all?”

Before the war, all Nora had wanted was a quiet, gentle life. She had tried her best to stay within the lines, not to branch out too far or reach into dangerous waters. She had done a good job for the most part, working as a barista in the morning and a librarian in the evening, dabbling with old cars in her spare time like her grandfather had done her entire childhood. It was nice and sweet, until she’d married a soldier who was more of a stranger than a friend, was widowed at twenty-three years old, and willingly got locked up in a freezer with her infant son for two centuries.

The rest just felt like bad dream after bad dream, save the few good people she’d met and the friends she’d made in the likes of MacCready, Preston Garvey, and the new residents of her old neighborhood, Sanctuary – where the self-proclaimed Minutemen had taken root, building the old buildings back up and making a decently safe place for drifters and farmers alike.

She had to go back, eventually. Even if it hurt to look at the two-bedroom suburban dream with a blue front door, her late husband’s name on the lease and her son’s bedroom still decorated with constellations and rocket ships.

Those memories hurt, like a knife to the gut that she only felt if she twisted back to look at all she lost. So, instead of dwelling on her grief, Nora turned towards the feral-infested hallway and decided to just keep moving forward. MacCready still needed that cure, no matter the cost.

“Let’s keep moving.” She said aloud, popping her knuckles on the grip of her pistol.

“Right behind ya.” Hancock replied, readying his own weapon.

They walked silently through the dark halls of the research facility, wary of the ferals lurking around every corner.

Machines that hadn’t been touched in decades made the air brassy and metallic, the thick scent of blood and decay mingling with a dusty oldness that made Nora want her mask back – but with the straps broken, and feral guts in the vents, it wouldn’t have helped much.

Stomach churning, Nora just grit her teeth and continued onwards. Endlessly onwards.

Where had her family been when the bombs fell? Her grandparents and their old farm; were Ma’s dainty pink lace curtains still hanging at the window above the kitchen sink? Had the tea she brewed daily just been sitting on the counter for two hundred years? Was Pa in his shed when the world blew up? Did they die together, or were they yards apart?

She imagined them hearing the news and running to find each other as quickly as their old knees would allow, falling to their knees together in the wildflower grass. Future archeologists would find their remains held so tightly together that they wouldn’t know whose bones were whose.

Except Nora was in the future – it could be Nora that found the remains of her mother’s parents, of the old-fashioned couple who had raised her.

She felt sicker with every thought, but she couldn’t stop the barrage of memories and worries that surged through her. Maybe the Jet and Mentats were a bad idea after all.  

Maybe old Ma and Pa had turned the radio on and heard the news with enough time to get dressed in their finest church clothes and shiniest shoes. Ma would’ve painted her nails and worn her lace gloves. Pa would’ve needed help with his tie, and he would’ve combed his white hair back carefully, the way he’d done for forty years. Maybe Pa had sat at the piano and played his wife one last love song. Maybe they’d held hands and sat on the back porch, sipping tea in their last moments together.

That was a better thought. No hassle, no running or screaming, no pain or worries. They had never been the kind of people to run about.

“Ferals up ahead.” Hancock’s gruff mumble pulled Nora from her thoughts. He took hold of her waistline with one hand, tugging her into a doorway in one of the medical hallways.

Nora blinked herself into focus, glad for the ghoul – if he hadn’t been there, she would’ve walked right into danger, still thinking of her long-dead grandparents.

Ahead of them was a machine room, where over a dozen ferals were shuffling around, some on the ground, as still as corpses. They looked anguished and half-rotted in their scrubs and lab coats. There was no way Nora and Hancock could get through the room unscathed, no way they could sneak around a hoard this size.

“We should go back, loop around.” Nora muttered under her breath, half-turning towards Hancock, who stood behind her, her nose brushing his cheek. They were nearly the same height, though Hancock’s dramatic hat and long coat gave the illusion that he was the taller of the two.

His foggy grey eyes flickered to hers, “Loop around where? There’s gonna be ferals in every nook ‘n corner of this place.”

The lights flickered and clicked above them, where the fluorescents were dangling on thin wires from the ceiling, powered by fusion energy, like most of the wasteland. Power seemed to be thriving in the Commonwealth, even if everything else was dying.

Nora had never seen Hancock this close; the grey tint to his skin seemed purplish in the darkness, his eyes voids of grey and black, like some distant galaxy. It was hard to read his face; typical signs of micro-expressions were gone from the ghoul, who had no nose or eyebrows, whose lips matched the rest of his flesh. He wasn’t half as scary as he seemed to be the first time they’d met. In fact, he seemed kind of… attractive, in a way Nora hadn’t considered before. The cut of his jaw, the sharp curve of his mouth, the softness around his eyes.

The hand at Nora’s waistline tightened, reminding her of his proficiency with a pocketknife, of his inhuman ghoul strength and sight, of his reputation as the fearless, rebellious ghoul mayor. She wondered what was beneath all of the talk, beneath the colonial costume, the killer outline—

A distant scream echoed through Med-Tek. MacCready.

They both flinched, whirling back to the ferals, who became agitated at the sound. A few of them broke from the group and ran down a nearby hallway, into the darkness.

Nora locked eyes with Hancock — their wide, panicked stares having a silent mutual agreement in an instant. No questions needed to be asked. Nothing needed to be said.

Together, they raised their firearms.

The hoard of ferals were cut through like the red sea. Blood splattered and corpses fell. A particularly fast feral caught Hancock’s sleeve — Nora shot it down, only to be bombarded with more.

The world spun. Her vision went red. Adrenaline and fear coursed through her alongside the chems, and Nora was moving without thought, firing without flinching. She felt detached from her body, in a way. Dissociative and panicked, she just fired, again and again, feeling nothing at all.

And then they were running, guns blazing, down the metal hallways, a hoard chasing them.

“Heads up!” Hancock yelled, tossing a lit bottle over his shoulder.

The Molotov Cocktail shattered, an explosive wave of heat rolling through the hallway as the ferals screamed — Nora didn't dare look back.

Skidding to a stop in what looked like some kind of office, Hancock whirled around to slam the door shut, dragging a metal filing cabinet in front of it for extra security.

The room was occupied by two ferals, who shrieked as Nora took them down.

Propping her hands on her knees, feeling icy, her lungs burning, Nora heaved, struggling to catch her breath, her heart racing.

"This place is trashed." MacCready's voice was distant but clear, with a tremor that told Nora he was in a lot of pain but trying to brave about it.

"You expected something fancy?" Piper Wright, the over-observant writer who ran the most popular (and only) newspaper press in the Commonwealth, sounded closer than MacCready, her voice echoing through the nearest stairway.

Nora immediately started towards the stairs, not bothering to be quiet. As she turned the corner at the base of the metal staircase, she was met with the barrels of three guns.

"Don't shoot," Hancock advised from behind her, "I'm the nice kinda ghoul, I swear."

Nick, his beige coat splattered with blood, gave a heavy sigh, lowering his shotgun. "Can't deny how relieved I am to see you two alive. This place is crawling with ferals."

The other two guns lowered. Nora was at MacCready’s side in an instant, her hands grasping his arms as she checked for wounds. It was dark in the lower levels of MedTek, but she could clearly see that the green fabric he wore was drenched in blood – it was so much that it was impossible to tell where it was coming from or even if it was his own.

"Where'd you get hit?"

"I, uh..." He stammered a little before shutting his mouth.

Nora looked up at her closest friend, eyebrows raised.

While Hancock was around her height, MacCready was nearly a head taller, and she could see him much more clearly without the foggy lenses of her gasmask. She had never noticed his freckles before, or how the grown-out stubble along his jaw had an auburn tinge, different from his ashy brown hair that he kept hidden under that green cap.

But, the blood – he was covered in it, the side of his head slick with an inky redness that was half-dry and thick, dripping down the side of his face and neck, coating his left shoulder and arm, blood running down his back and staining his beige-green duster.

"Mac," She spoke again, more clearly this time, meeting his eyes. "Where did you get hit?"

He just stared at her, wearing a vaguely panicked expression, his crystalline blue eyes wide and bordered with crow's feet wrinkles from years of squinting through sniper scopes.

"Might wanna cut down on the intensity, Sunshine." Hancock drawled with a chuckle. He was leaning against the wall by the stairway, packing a carton of cigarettes.

Nora gripped MacCready’s non-bloodied arm tighter, her other hand reaching for his cheek so she could turn his head and check for a scalp wound. She shot Hancock an annoyed look over her shoulder, “Intensity? The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, lighting a cigarette. His silver-plated lighter cast a fiery glow over his pocked face, highlighting his sharp grin. “They haven’t seen ya without the mask, sweetness. You’ve got one of those hundred-yard stares that can bring a man to his knees. Probably will, if you’re not careful.”

Scoffing, Nora turned back to MacCready. “You’re drowning in his blood, ‘Cread. Tell me it’s not yours.”

“It’s… not mine. Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Got nicked. I’ll be fine.”

“Liar.” Piper spoke up, and they turned to her as she plucked the cigarette from Hancock and brought it to her own lips, her expression gaunt like Nora had never seen her. “He got bit by a feral. The thing took out a who chunk of shoulder. Most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.”

Nora’s heart stuttered.

“Excuse you, I could’ve died.” MacCready half-shouted, as easily irritable as ever.

“Good thing you got it off, then.” Piper rolled her eyes, handing the cigarette back to Hancock, smoke curling from her lips. “We gonna keep going or not?”

The four of them trudged onwards, with Nora and MacCready leading them, staying as close together as possible.

“You’re sure you’ll be fine?” She asked quietly, giving him a worried glance.

“Yeah.” He didn’t look at her, his hawklike eyes intent on their surroundings. “Nick wrapped it up. Stimpack and clean gauze and everything.”

From what Nora had seen on television as a kid, and from what she’d gathered from her time in the Commonwealth, you don’t want to get bit by a zombie – even if they’re called ferals instead. The virus might not be the same as it is in Hollywood, but the rot was bad for sure, and the radiation was no joke. A stimpack could only go so far – MacCready needed sanitation, Rad-X, and probably medical care beyond what the detective could do. A whole chunk off his shoulder… he likely needed stitches, too.

They came into what looked like a patient holding area, with rows of beds in their own chambers sealed behind locked doors, a feral in every one. Beyond them was another locked room, with a terminal and pin-pad key – medical testing, if Nora had to guess. They were close.

“Nora. Stop worrying.”

She turned back to MacCready as he raised his sniper to his good shoulder, casting a glance her way before scowling down the scope. Crossing her arms, Nora watched as he took out three ferals in a matter of seconds. “You’ve got the worst luck I’ve ever seen.”

“Tell me about it,” He huffed a short laugh, standing again. “But I’ve got a feeling it’s about to get a lot better.”

Nick broke through the terminal, his hacking skills on par with MacCready’s sniping skills.

As the door slid open, a green glow washed over them all – and a bloated ghoul prowled out, glowing so brightly and hotly that Nora’s entire body reacted to the radiation, rolling with nausea and heat.

MacCready raised his rifle, Nick raised his shotgun. Three more ghouls darted from the once-locked room and lunged at them, tackling the two men to the ground. Hancock and Piper raced forward to help.

The glowing one went for Nora, who had hesitated, terrified.

Bullets poured into the feral, but it was unperturbed, scrambling towards her with a gurgling scream. She dodged its first lunge and readied her gun again, firing .99s into its skull – to no avail.

The second lunge caught her leg and Nora went down with a yell, kicking it with her other foot, twisting her gun in her hand and bringing it down hard against the thing’s wrist.

Its hand broke off on the third hit and it screamed again. Nora’s boot met its face and it reeled back, groaning, its handless wrist coming up to its face.

Holy shit, could they feel pain?

Scrambling backwards, Nora snatched up her second pistol and fired again, unloading her entire stock into the glowing feral, backing herself against a wall as she put as much distance as she could between herself and the radioactive fucker.

A shot to the eye had the thing’s head exploding, green goo splattering as the body fell back with a wet thump on the linoleum floor.

Nora gagged, her Pip-Boy clicking irritably at her. Luckily, she was mostly out of the splash zone, but her leg burned and she was nearly completely out of ammo.

The other three had just finished off their hoard of ferals when Nora edged her way into the square room.

“You okay?” MacCready breathed out, clutching his shoulder. Hancock had an arm around him, holding him upright – the sheen of sweat on MacCready’s placid face glinted green thanks to the glowing feral’s corpse.

Nora barely nodded, worry clutching at her chest. She looked around the room, which seemed like a surgery center or some kind of testing lab.

“Have fun with this junk,” MacCready grunted, taking a rest atop one of the three gurneys in the room, lying back with his good arm flung over his face. “I have no idea what any of it does.”

He almost sounded uninterested – like he’d rather not help search for his son’s cure, in case it wasn’t here at all, like he couldn’t stand the thought of having come all this way just to find nothing.

Nora was determined not to leave empty-handed.

The room was decently sized and absolutely packed with all kinds of medical gear, with a long table covered in tools of all kinds, including scalpels, glass vials, bottles of pills, and flasks of mystery liquids. There were three empty gurneys, a broken cooler, piles and piles of scattered papers and files – and, finally, on a tray next to a surgical table where a skeleton had been strapped down, a little foam-lined red box labeled PREVENT.

Duncan’s cure. It had to be the cure. Nora was never given a name – she wasn’t sure of MacCready himself even knew the name of the medicine, but this had to be it. It had to be. And if it wasn’t… well, there was a plenty of Med-X on the long table. Maybe that kind of power could substitute the mystery cure that Duncan needed.

Nora clicked the box open to examine the syringe within, grinning at the sight of it. Her internal compass told her she’d found exactly what she was looking for her. This was the first thing she’d done right since setting foot in the Commonwealth. She clicked it shut again and turned to her best friend, holding the red box up. “Look alive, MacCready.”

The other three went very still as MacCready carefully sat up, each looking ready to run out of the room if the syringe ended up being the wrong thing.

But, as MacCready took the box into his shaking, bloodied hands, tears shone in his icy eyes. “We did it... Holy crap, we did it!”

He swept Nora into a tight hug, her feet coming off the ground, a broken laugh escaping him. She held him just as tightly, heart aching for him and his son. Into his shoulder, Nora murmured, “Duncan has a fighting chance.”

“Yeah,” MacCready wept, trying and failing to hide his tears. “I-I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you for this… I owe you big time.”

Pulling back, Nora thumbed tears off of his face. “All I care about is curing your son.”

“I know you do.” He met her gaze – actually seeing her, without the mask, without looking away. “I’m… I’m just tired of taking instead of giving. Maybe one day I’ll get my priorities straight.”

Nora shook her head, pressing the red box more firmly into his palm. “Don’t worry about it, ‘Cread. Where to next?”

“Daisy, in Goodneighbor. With her caravan contacts, she’s the only one I trust to get me to Duncan on time. This is the last favor I’m going to ask, I promise.”

She really, really hoped it wasn’t. But… Mac was going back to his son, in the Capital Wasteland. Would he even come back, now that he had the cure? The last favor. Something in Nora trembled at the thought of it. Still, she smiled, taking a step back and putting space between them. “Let’s go.”