#I almost ticked off 'if anything happens to them i will cry' but lets be honest

[churipu]

I love you so so much omg ur posts, ur content, un vibe everything. you’re so so nice and yet you have me crying over every single post because of how good this is. Like yesterday i had a whole debate talking to myself abt how good of a person you were and how the likes were not doing you justice.. usually I never send requests mostly because i’m scared they take a look at it and be like “you cannot be srs”. Idk if it makes sense but oh well😭😭

can i request u make a scenario where the reader is insecure and worried their partner is going to leave them for someone prettier but they dont say anything and just start to distance themselves from them from how big of a toll it was taking on the reader? thank you sm😭🫶🏽

YOU BEING INSECURE + JJK MEN

featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, sukuna ryomen x reader

warning. cursing

note. ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET OMG BRB SOBBING HAVE ABIG FAT KISS, and i love this request so much, you don't have to worry <33 thank you for requesting my love, sorry it took so long :')

GOJO SATORU. even if gojo didn't seem like the type to be aware of his surroundings — he is very much aware. behind those blindfolds and dark glasses, his eyes darts everywhere, making sure everything is fine. even if one small thing is different to his eyes, he'll notice.

so when you began distancing yourself from him, he notices off the bat. but decided to say nothing just to make sure of it, gojo did not want to jump into conclusions. it started off as you telling him that you're busy to go on dates, or even declining his offers when he wanted to come over to your place.

he didn't think much of it until it visibly worsened, you looked miserable. when he sees you, it was like the shine in your eyes have gone away — gojo didn't know what happened, but he automatically assumed that he was behind the disappearance of it. when he asks you if you were okay, you brushed him off with a forced out smile, and he was dying to push you to just tell him everything.

but he didn't. he was afraid that if he'd push you, it would spiral an argument. for a while, he was walking on eggshells around you, you were like a ticking time bomb ready to blow up at any minute.

it was gnawing internally in gojo's mind, what did he do? what happened to you? what happened to y/n?

his y/n.

so when shoko drops the bomb on him, asking if he had broken up with you. gojo was mortified, is that what it looks like to other people? him and you calling it off? he was terrified, scared, nervous. the strongest sorcerer. yeah — he was scared.

and so he felt like it was a now or never situation.

"y/n, can we talk?"

you grimaced at his soft voice, wondering if this is the part where he's had enough and decided he'd leave you. but you nodded your head, your mind was ready, you were ready to hear it, those words: "i want to break up with you."

"please talk to me. i can't do this whole...you avoiding me, tell me what's bothering you...please." the desperation in his voice was visible, almost as if he was in the verge of tears.

his cerulean eyes were filled with such hopelessness, one you've never seen even when he was fighting a curse. you widened your eyes and inhaled sharply, "i...i'm sorry, satoru."

that was all you managed to muster up and gojo was clueless, he needed more answers, he needed answers to why you were like this, "baby, i don't... is it me? did i do anything wrong to you? please tell me, don't run away.. let me make it up to you."

it pained you to see that he thinks it was him, when it was you behind this. you shook your head, "'s not you 'ts me."

and that made gojo even more terrified than he already is, a lot of questions spiraling in his mind, did you find someone else? did you get bored of him? were you finally breaking up with him because of his constant bothering? so many questions.

"i just...there're so many more people prettier than i am. i just can't stop thinking about it. you leaving and all. 'm sorry i distanced myself from you." when you said that, gojo felt like half of his questions were all useless and he felt a bit relieved to finally get an answer to his speculations.

gojo wasted no time pulling you into his embrace, he needed it, you needed it. both of you needed it just as much, you felt so small in his embrace, head buried into his chest. gojo didn't move a bit, fearing if he moved at all — you'd break, you looked so fragile and so dainty, it scares him.

"i..love you so much." was all he could say,

"'ts you, 'ts you that i love. it hurts me to hear you talk like that." you felt like shit, you really do — so you said nothing back, you kept your face hidden in his chest.

and gojo didn't pry you away, he just needed to be close to you, "sorry."

that was when he pulled away, "you don't have to be sorry, but please talk to me, 'ts not fair if we're happy together and you have to be sad alone.." you hated crying in front of people, especially gojo, and he knew that about you.

so when you cried in that moment, gojo knew this wasn't something light — he didn't need any more explaining from you, he was just there by your side the whole night. and the next day. the next week. month. year. both of you never spoke of it again.

he's in love with you and nobody could change that, he thinks you're the prettiest anyways.

NANAMI KENTO. nanami's eyes are always on you. nobody else. and everyone knows that.

everyone except for you, unfortunately.

usually he comes home and you were always there to greet him, with a hug and kiss. it was an inseparable combo he made a routine, but for the past couple of days — he hasn't been getting that.

instead, he was greeted with silence. and just from the second time, he knew that something was definitely wrong with you. he'll find you curled up in bed, under the covers like it was the only thing that mattered in the world; but he tries to see it as a sign of exhaustion.

nanami watches your every move, for the past couple of days. you have been out of it. to the point where it was plain obvious and nanami tries asking about it, but you tell him it was just because of the stress. a sweetheart he is, he tries telling you to get some rest from work — he'd even excuse you if it's needed, but you tell him that wasn't needed and that you were fine.

obviously lying. he could see it, smell it, hear it.

it was suffocating. everything was suffocating to you, it's like everything was slowly masticating on every fiber in your body. you wanted to just, drop down and cry but whenever you try to, you just end up sitting on the floor blankly staring at nothing.

it scares yourself sometimes how empty your eyes look.

you wouldn't be surprised if nanami didn't come back home one day because he's so fed up — that's what you've been planting in you. that nanami would leave you for prettier people, for people who don't overthink, people who are generally better than you.

"y/n?"

oh. you didn't even hear him come home, you sat on the bedroom floor trying to push yourself up. and you couldn't even do that, so when nanami opens the bedroom door, seeing you on the floor — he said nothing, not even a hello.

nanami just scoops you into his arms and lays you down on the bed mutely, his slender fingers brushing your hair, "i love you," he murmurs quietly.

that was enough to make tears dwell up at the corner of your eyes, and he said nothing, grazing your tears away, "'m sorry. 'm so sorry, kento."

nanami didn't understand why you were apologizing, he hushed you, cradling you in his embrace as you let your tears free fall, "why are you sorry?"

that's when it struck you, why were you apologizing?

nanami didn't question you any further but he held you close, pressing chaste kisses onto your forehead, "is something in your mind?" you nodded slowly, "do you want to tell me about it?"

you nodded, inhaling sharply, "i just don't feel pretty enough...i feel like you deserve better than me, ken."

nanami laced your fingers with his, kissing your knuckles, "why do you say such things?" you didn't answer him, and it just breaks his heart even more, "you're perfect for me."

his words fall into deaf ears, but you didn't continue saying your worries, you just feel like nanami gets a gist of it. nanami didn't leave your side, cradling you in his arms like you're the most fragile being, "i love you," he kissed your forehead, "so much," and he kisses your lips.

nanami makes sure to spend every second telling you how much he loves you, telling you how beautiful you are, and how you're the most perfect for him.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. he hates it when you ignore him without any explanations, he's told you before, "if you have anything to say, say it to my face, don't ignore me."

but this feels like something you couldn't tell him, how you feel. it's obvious that you were distancing yourself from him, when he calls you, you sometimes pretend like you didn't hear him — and when he confronts you later, you tell him that you just didn't hear his calls.

"you're ignoring me, hm?"

"what? no— i just didn't hear you calling out to me."

don't even try to lie to him because he will always confront you about it, he sees right through you and your lies. the second time you try to run away from him when he calls out to you, he wastes no time holding you in place; confronting you right at that moment.

"why're you running away, brat?"

"i...oh, i didn't realize you were here, ryo." sukuna clicks his tongue in mere annoyance — what a bad actor you are, it's so ridiculous sukuna wanted to just burst out into laughter.

"bullshit. why're you avoiding me?"

that was it. you were cornered just like that. sighing, there isn't any way out unless you tell him — sukuna just won't let you go unless you tell him everything behind your recent behaviors.

"just don't feel pretty enough for you," you mutter out, avoiding his sharp gaze, "i feel like you can do much better than me. you deserve better than me."

sukuna gave you nothing but a mere smirk, pushing his lips onto yours. god, he didn't want to admit it — but he hates the way you talk shit about yourself, if he could tell you everything that he loves about you, he would. but he didn't because he's a jackass (and he's too shy to tell you that).

"that's it?" that's it? that's it?

you were about to push him away when he gives you that glare of his, "which person has been making you think like that?"

"no one. me."

he flicks your forehead, "then stop."

if only it was that easy, you grumbled at his response, and said nothing else so you could just leave. but sukuna, despite his ignorant answers always makes sure that you never run away from him anymore, he's a lot more touchy than usual — and he (tries) to compliment you and your appearance.

keyword: tries

he fails at it though. but you gave him kudos for trying, that's all that matters, really. that he makes you feel loved.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[11rosebunny]

Hello! I absolutely love your bofurin posts so much they give me so much joy!! I was wondering if you could write bofurin boys reacting to their partners getting hurt (either by accident ir gettign caught up in a fight) tyyy!!

When you get hurt (BOFURIN + JO TOGAME)

I’m so sorry if you wanted either Mitsuki or Taiga in this, I didn’t add them to this but if you want me to include them please lmk in the requests!

-Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Toma Hiragi, Hayato Suo, Jo Togame

Haruka Sakura

When you come to him all scratched up when he's simply relaxing, it was the least thing he expected from you.

He notices right away based on the scrapes all over your body. Not deep enough to leave a scar but prominent enough for anyone to notice the significant bruises. He almost just stares at you in disbelief for a few seconds with wide eyes before raising his voice a little louder than he meant to.

"What the hell happened to you?!"

He's panicked when dragging you towards him and tries to interview you on what happened. He's a bit confused on what to do next, he's only ever been used to him getting hurt and not anyone around him. After asking you what happened he sort of shims away to get some bandages and a wet cloth to wipe your wounds.

He's calmed down by then when he returns back to you and continues on to help clean your wounds. He did that out of habit due to the fact he's grown up healing his own wounds when you questioned what he was doing.

"Why're you holding, bandages...?"

"...Because I'm gonna clean your wounds, dumbass."

"So rude..."

Hajime Umemiya

He is set off. If it was just an accident, then he doesn't make it a big deal. However, if it was intentional, he's beyond annoyed.

In the past, he's learned how to keep his cool whenever he was disrespected. Even during that instance when Tomiyama had beaten down students from Bofurin, he still managed to stay calm. However, only then things will change when he learns that someone close to him was inflicted with pain such as; Kotoha and you.

It's one of the few times where he lets his morals go. He's aware he's capable of beating the person that hurt you into a bloody pulp but even so, he knows how to restrict himself. It ticks him off to see you hurt so once the conflict is done, he's quiet.

He's still fairly pissed and drags you to come with him back to his house or somewhere secluded where he could heal your wounds himself. He doesn't care if he is also hurt or even a much more worse condition than you are.

Fight him all you want, argue even. The whole entire time, he'll stay silent in an angry mood, mad at himself that he let you get hurt. Once he's done healing you, he won't even allow you to heal him back, he cares more about your well being than his in those moments.

Toma Hiragi

Seeing you beat down and crying, this is one of the very few times he lets himself go vulnerable.

He hates it whenever he sees you depressed. So if he witnesses you getting hurt, it feels like a whole chunk of his body is cut off. Immediately, he tries to quicken up the conflict so it would be over and then check up on you right away. In the moment, he's pissed at you—telling you to back off and rest somewhere for the time being. He'll yell out to you louder than ever before with pure anger in his eyes that could make your blood run cold in just a single second.

Once the conflict is done, he goes back to you as if he's angry at you for getting hurt. He refrains himself from speaking, otherwise if he did he knows he would snap at anything you said—so instead, he quietly patches you up and practically ignores you at whatever you're saying.

He's worried and never wants to see that happen to you again.

Hayato Suo

It's shocking, the moment he sees anyone lay his hands on you, that's when his usual atmosphere changes into something very few people witness from him.

Generally, he comes as a sympathetic, chaotic person. It's something he's built in his charisma for years and enjoys it even (the small teasing and outrageous opinions). So he's kept that level of himself to be the same in almost every single scenario, but once he sees the state you're in, it's different.

He has a hard time taking in what happened, not that he can't process it, but as to why it happened. Once you explain everything to him, he won't say anything to trigger you anymore before gentle healing your wounds. He doesn't want to stress you out and have to make you recall of the horrid situation you got into earlier. 

Afterwards, he'll disappear for a day, no calls, texts, or any sights of where he was.

The next day he comes back you as if nothing happened but once you question about is whereabouts, he tells you,

"Sorry [Name], I was busy having a conference with those people from yesterday." He says smiling warmly before changing the bandage on your face. You had a feeling he did not in fact have a conference with those people.

Jo Togame

He's usually outside a lot, shockingly it's very rare for him to even respond to any of your texts so no he doesn't see your message when you're pleading out to him that you got hurt by someone else.

It takes him a while to even know of your circumstances until he comes pick you up from school and realizes you're taking a bit long while he waits outside for you near the gate. He grows impatient and for the first time and finally checks his phone to see if you said anything. From there, his eyes widen. 

In a flash, he asks around if anyone has seen you and a person finally answers him after asking nearly 10 people.

"Ah, [Last Name]? I saw her walk to the water fountains behind the school." 

In a quicker pace than he usually sets himself in, he walks to where the person told him your last whereabouts, and then, he sees you. 

Using the water to clean up the bloodied stains on your shirt. 

You don't hear his hurried footsteps that come towards you, in your head you honestly thought it was a friend or a teacher that saw the state you were in. You didn't turn around and continued your cleaning, too angry and full of resent. 

What you weren't expecting was the person to place both hands on your shoulders and turn you to face forward.

"Why the hell are you all beaten up?" He says staring deep into your eyes. It's the first time you've ever seen him this jolted rather than his laidback behaviour. He's frantic, worried, and more importantly, angry. 

It takes you a while to get used to his outward personality, you even stutter when telling him what happened as you both settled down in front of a connivence store while you held a cold drink of Ramune on your cheek. He doesn't say much or react but there is a slightest hint of wrath in the way he licks his canine tooth. 

He then gets up without saying a word before placing his hand on the top of your head and ruffling it up with a remorseful smile. 

"You stay here, I'm gonna go get Chouji, alright?"

You nod already knowing what the duo is going to do.

[invisible-lint]

Before and After: Nightmares

Lucien x Archeron!Reader

Summary: the first in a series of drabbles before and after you went into the cauldron

Warnings: angst. angstier than I intended oops

Word Count: 1.2K

You grab a knife off a fae distracted by what Amarantha is doing to your twin. You are not one of them. She can't stop you. You may not be able to kill her, but you will not let Feyre go down alone. You stalk forward, ready to try, prepared to die with her, when warm arms circle around your body. "Don't," Lucien whispers. Your gasp of indignation shifts to a scream of rage and horror when Feyre's neck snaps, the cruel fae queen finally done torturing her. You scream, not noticing as the masks fall off the faces of the spring court fae. You scream and scream, thrashing against him, trying to get loose, the knife still gripped in your hand as Lucien holds you. You scream until your throat is raw and you can't scream anymore. And then suddenly through some miracle performed by the high lords, she's alive again. Changed. Fae. But alive. And you sob, your body going limp, the knife clattering to the stone floor. You sob and Lucien continues to hold you.

You’re not sure what it was that woke you, the air, suddenly cold from the blankets being thrown back, or Lucien calling your name. You swing at him wildly, perceiving him as a threat in your sleep-addled terror. He grabs your hand, holding it until you’re awake enough for clarity to come across your features. He crawls into bed with you, pulling you into his arms as you start crying. He presses soft kisses to the top of your head, whispering reassurances into your hair, his hand against the small of your back. He holds you like this, waiting for you to be ready to tell him what this nightmare had been about. You had them more often than not. Sometimes, about your own experiences Under the Mountain, but more often, you relived Feyre’s death. Terrified by how powerless you were to stop it, how utterly powerless you would be to prevent anything else from happening to her.  Lucien just holds you, knowing that you’ll tell him what it was about when you’re ready. 

“I was back Under the Mountain. Watching Feyre die.” He looks at you, brushing hair back from your face. “I’ll never be able to save her, will I? I couldn’t then and now… Now the thing that is hurting her is not something I can take a knife and try to kill. The aftermath…. It is suffocating her. She is drowning and there is nothing that I can do. What are you supposed to do when you so desperately want to save someone you love and can’t?”

He looks at you momentarily, trying to find the words that will comfort you. How can he, when he feels the same way about you and your mortality? Every day is like a ticking clock drawing closer to the moment when he will lose you, and no matter how much he may know it’s coming, he knows he will never be prepared.  

“I don’t know… I wish I did…” His voice is so soft, that with your human ears, you almost don’t hear him. You nod, making a sound that’s half sniffle, half sigh. 

“Will you stay with me?” You ask, voice soft as tiredness begins to creep back over you.

“Of course. Always.”

"You'd truly neutralize the cauldron? Aren't you at all curious about what it can do? How it can help you? Save your human twin, doomed to die before you?" You hear the king speak as his guards drag you in, fear bright in your eyes. You look to Feyre, to the family you've found in the night court and you could weep at the state of them. You hold your chin high, hoping to radiate bravery you don't feel as Feyre begs. You don't fight, you don't make a scene as the guards drag you to the large cauldron in the center of the room. You bite back your scream as they lower you in, the inky water so cold it's painful. And you don't fight as you're submerged, floating, suspended in a space much larger than what the cauldron should hold. The icy hot liquid burns your body as you change until finally, you're being dumped out onto the stone floor, shivering, sputtering, and coughing. Your new fae senses are immediately overwhelming. It's all too much. The sobbing, the begging. Nesta’s cries of fury. Elain’s sobbing. The sickening scent of blood. Even the stone floor, is far too cold and rough against your skin. You wish you could just close your eyes and fall asleep, fade into blissful unconsciousness where nothing is too much. You flinch, looking up as Lucian drapes his coat over you, no longer sure what he is to you. You try to tell yourself that you don’t care about the sadness in his eyes at your fear and uncertainty towards him. You just want it to all be over. You just want-

You awaken suddenly, shoving the male away from you. You move across the bed, putting as much space between your bodies as you can, grabbing a hairbrush from the vanity to arm yourself, before realizing it was Lucien. He watches you, hands raised in front of him, as if to calm you like you were a frightened animal. You throw the brush at the wall a foot or so away from him, hoping to drive him away. But he stays, watching you. You grab something else and throw it, this item shattering against the wall, but still he doesn’t leave. You hate the way he looks at you, hate the regret that fills his eyes. The pity. You throw something else towards the bathing room.

“Get out!” You scream, not caring how loud you’re being, not caring if you wake the whole of Spring. But he doesn’t, he just stands there, watching, waiting. After a few minutes, the sobs come and you sink to the ground. He crosses the room, sinking down next to you, pulling you into his arms. Tonight, you let him, some part of you tired of shoving him away, when you so desperately want him there. You cling to him, sobbing into his chest and he holds you tight. He brushes your hair out of your face, keeping it from clumping in your tears. He’s glad that you can’t see his face, seeing the tears that are threatening to spill. He knows that this is his fault. He couldn’t stop you from going into the cauldron and now you hate him. His mate hates him, and most of the time, he believes he deserves it. He flinches, startled out of his thoughts by your hand on his face. He leans into the tender touch, savoring it, despite his surprise.

“Why do you keep coming back when I treat you this way?” you ask.

“Because I deserve it. You should hate me.” I hate me is left unsaid.

“No, you don’t. I don’t.” You shouldn’t.

“Why not? I should have stopped it. Stopped them.”

“Perhaps. But what could you have done? Against Tamlin? Against… It wouldn’t have made a difference.” He says nothing, knowing that you’re right, but not wanting to agree.

“You couldn’t have done anything more than I could have with that knife Under the Mountain. I used to wonder why you didn’t try harder to stop Tamlin from suffocating her.”

“And now?”

You look him in the eyes. “Now I know you’re just as powerless as I am.”

A/N: And there's fic 2 on the blog! I have a few ideas for the next chapter of both this one and Everything Could Be Okay. Hopefully, the next one for Lucien will be fluffier, he certainly deserves it!

divider once again by @tsunami-of-tears

[wayrad]

hiii number 15 on that prompt list would be delicious if u fancy it

omgosh yes anything for you legend <3

for prompt 15: “this is going to hurt, okay?”

Usually John’s the rash one, the on who jumps in over his head, doesn’t think things through. Prefers it that way, too; if he’s going off the deep end at least he knows Gale will be there to reign him back in. Get a hand on his nape and tell him knock it off, Bucky, always in that tone of voice that John needs.

That’s not how it happened today. Today, just another tick on the wall, and Gale woke up on the edge. He goes non-verbal, somedays, has got a storm brewing in him, and no seems to notice it but John. He knew today was a bad one, and not just for Gale; the Luftwaffe officers feel it too. The edge, like a knife licking up the spine. They hold their rifles a little higher, the chains on their dogs a little looser.

Gale had been so quiet. He’d never been the one they watch, especially not on days like these, but. But.

And John should’ve known. Should’ve.

Now, perspiration gathers on Gale’s severe brow bone. He looks pasty as a ghost, sounds like one too; the air in his lungs is rattling about like it’s slipping through the cracks of him. He looks drunk- but that’d be a mercy in here.

“Gale,” John says, tries, for what seems like the hundredth time in the last thirty minutes. “Gale, baby. Baby can you hear me?”

The pain’s making him delirious. He’s in shock, too, up to his head in it, shivering, muttering all incoherent. And John hasn’t been able to look at it, not for long- Gale's sleeve, pulled up, what’s waiting there for them. It’s still in the shape of a mouth, like the mutt was still hanging onto Gale’s tattered flesh, yanking, pulling as the German officer just watched and let it all happen.

John had ordered every man to stay out. He’d— handle it. He’d take care of Gale.

“I’m going to get your shirt open, okay?” he says slowly, taking the ruddied fabric between his fingers. When he shifts it experimentally Gale’s chest heaves, a wet sob breaking apart from his lips. It’s the loudest he’s been all day, loudest he's been since the bite took him.

John takes Gale's shoulders, hopes it's soothing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he lulls. "Ain't no doctors around, not yet. Just me. I'm doing the best I can, huh?"

To that, Gale says nothing. Just clutches at his shoulder like he's trying to keep his arm attached to his body. John gives up on getting Gale's shirt off the right way; he finds little dull scissors the guys use to cut out pinups and takes the sleeve right from the seam. Warm clothes are hard to come by, and Gale would say as much, if he could.

Without the fabric to cover the gash, John's faced with the gravity of their situation. Puncture wounds litter the purpling skin of Gale's forearm, blood tacked and dripping across his wrist. There are chunks of skin missing. Around it, a mottled bruise blooms purple and green over the entire thing, makes John think it really could fall off.

"Jesus," he mutters. They've got nothing to clean it with, nothing proper, but- and that's an idea. John cups Gale's jaw. "Hey. I'm not leaving, okay?" he says. Gale shivers against him. His skin is clammy and too-hot, but he nods, and that's something.

John makes across the room, below his bunk, to where a jar of contraband liquor is stashed next to the notebook he was able to scrounge up a couple weeks ago.

This isn't exactly the special occasion he'd been saving it for.

Rounding up on Gale again, John smooths his sweat-stringy hair from his forehead. "Gale," he says. "This is going to hurt, okay?"

Gale flashes John his eyes- blue and full of pain- and John almost can't do it. Almost.

He unscrews the cap and tips, takes Gale's wrist when he jerks, crying out in pain. Forces it down. He holds Gale's arm and doesn't stop pouring until he runs through the entire jar. "Shh," he says, and it isn't enough, nothing could be enough. "Shh, Buck, it's okay."

Gale's body kicks against his chair. Slumps, eyes shutting. He's hasn't got enough fight left in him to break John's grip: he isn't eating, isn't sleeping, and now this. John's never seen him like this before. Not once in his life.

"Did good, Gale, huh?" John says. Presses his lips to the fire-hot skin of his forehead, slumping too. "Did good."

[takotakigum]

our time — itoshi rin.

characters: itoshi rin x gn!reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationships, implied hurt/comfort, and parent!reader&rin.

word count: 900

synopsis: one of the struggles rin first faced in parenthood is not being able to understand the main reason why his little one is crying.

aged up characters | please read at your own risk!

your baby has one of the worst meltdowns the world has ever seen—at least, the worst rin has ever thought of.

the first time it happens, rin doesn’t know what to do.

“why’re you still crying?” rin looks at your kid, whose hands are roughly rubbing at their eyelids. as careful as he can, he tries to pry it away from their face, scared it might irritate and wound the skin. “come on.” rin tries to carry your kid from the living room floor, although they stubbornly stay seated on the ground. naturally, with rin’s strength, he could easily lift them up with ease; however, you suddenly go off the couch, sitting down on the floor with your little one.

immediately, your baby rushes to you. their eyes seeking comfort in your shoulder while their hands squeeze at the fabric of your clothing. rin sees the little one’s body crumble on your lap, crying hurtfully louder, even though their mouth is muffled by your chest.

“what’s wrong?” rin asks in a rather stern voice, still unsure of what to do. his body is stiff, knuckles almost turning white as he grips at the edge of the leather seating. “…..” even you don’t answer, your shushed hums to your baby still gets overlapped with their crying.

as time ticks slower than possible, rin’s leg bounces anxiously. and soon enough, he’s unable to hear the prominent sobbing from your kid, just the lightest hiccups from a sore throat.

your hand retracts from your baby’s back and onto rin’s knee, gesturing your husband to sit down on the floor with you. and he does, he immediately sits down beside you; wanting to hold the little one yet his hands stops midway when he sees you shake your head.

worriedly, rin tilts his head, but nonetheless moves a few inches away. you almost frown, letting out a short sigh before rin takes it as a sign to get closer once more.

“what happened?” when rin is sure your baby finally calmed down and has droopy eyes, he asks. “got overwhelmed, i think.” you play with the loose threads of your baby’s clothes, twirling it around your hand as you try and lean your body closer to them for comfort. “huh? about what exactly?” rin recalls how the living room was quiet, not overbearing at all—just like the way it always was. however, the second rin averted his eyes from his kid playing and rolling around on the floor, he heard loud wails from them. “who knows. no one really understands what’s happening in their heads, right?” the anxious knot plastered on rin’s eyebrow worsens, but one glance at your now smiling face eases it up a bit.

“then how can we help? how are we meant to know?” his voice is soft, too quiet for your baby to even hear. “we don’t know, nor can we help the way they want us to. but it’s alright. it’s all over now.” you look at the previously fisted hand crumpling your shirt start to loosen, your little one’s fingers relaxing. carefully, you hope it’s only right to fix your baby’s messy, dark green hair.

“what? that’s it?” rin continues, he’d rather do something—anything, really—than merely sit down and watch his little one cry helplessly. “yes, that’s it. it’s normal, don’t worry about it much; just experiencing heightened emotions…err i think?” rin could only nod, watching you attentively, yet still bothered.

although rin would prefer not to worry you even more with his overthinking and lack of parental knowledge. in hindsight, you really don’t mind.

your baby suddenly blabbers, mumbling something beyond the understanding of any humane language. “hm?” you rub your knuckles on your baby’s swollen cheek softly. they pout, arms hitting your chest for attention. “yes?” then, the baby looks at your husband with grabby hands, and rin’s eyes widen.

“wanna go there, baby?” suddenly, your baby makes a sound of agreement. however, it seems that if you didn’t give them to rin at this very moment they’ll start crying again. rin opens his arms stiffly, and despite it, your little one practically jumps off your arms and into his.

within seconds, the anxious air of the room eases little by little. and soon enough, your baby’s cheek is snugly fit on the juncture of rin’s neck and shoulders. “tired baby.” rin mumbles, and you poke at his cheek for it. as rin embraces your baby, you stand up from the floor, grabbing one of rin’s hands steadily to bring him up on his feet too.

“i still don’t get why you cried so suddenly.” rin directs at the little one as the sways of his body lull your baby into a deeper slumber is beyond careful. “don’t act like you never cried when you were that young!” you whisper back, giggling. “but i never did- i know it.” the tips of rin’s ears are heating up, you both know it.

dare you say it’s because of the way you wrap your arms around rin’s abdomen from the back and not because of his embarrassment. “whatever you say.” you sigh with a faint smile on your face.

with one last glance at your sleeping baby, you kiss their forehead, light enough to not awaken them. from the corner of your eye, you see the same pout your baby once made in front of you—however this time, it’s on rin’s face.

and so, the moment your gentle, loving lips flutters against rin’s nose, cheeks, forehead, and mouth—what’s ever left of the tense air dissipates and gets replaced with something rin loves more than anything in the world:

the feeling of never ending warmth given to him by none other than himself, his own little one, and of course, lover.

© takotakigum | do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

I have been crying on and off about that Tommy MCD fic idea since you posted about it. The way you write emotional devastation is soooo good. It always punches me in the gut.

Thank you thank you here’s some more of it… using this as my fuck it Friday post, thanks for the tag @eddiebabygirldiaz, tagging @colonoscopys @homerforsure @chronicowboy @shitouttabuck @bigfootsmom @daffi-990 @butchdiaz @ anyone else who has stuff they want to share!

Going to put a lot of this under a cut because one its long two it’s a major character death au and there’s a bit about past contemplation of suicide. But it’s kind of happy generally I swear! This is Buck and Eddie getting together sort of!

For more of this au I’ve been tagging it ‘the seconds ticking killed us all a million years before the fall’ (lyrics from standing outside a broken phone booth with money in my hand)

I’ve hated and thought this scene was pretty good in turns over the last few hours so whatever here you go!

Eddie thinks the creaking on the front porch might be a raccoon, at first. It’s light, comes and goes for several minutes. He should probably go shoo it away, but it’s two am and he’s sore all over and can’t be damned. He’s settling further into the couch and his various ice packs when the raccoon knocks. Hesitant, hesitant, loud, loud, louder. Eddie stands up with only a slight groan, ice packs flopping all over the place, and goes to the door.

Buck stands on the other side of it.

If Eddie hadn’t been so exhausted yet in too much pain to fall asleep, he thinks he might have expected this. If he was a little more exhausted, a little more hurt, he might have admitted to hoping for it. As it is, all he can do for a moment is blink at the apparition before him. Buck is pale, wild eyed, looking somehow thinner than when they’d last seen each other not that many hours ago. His hands come up to hover near Eddie’s shoulders as Eddie is also reaching out, so he ends up with his fingers colliding into an awkward fist against Buck’s elbow.

“Eddie.” He sounds wrecked. “I’m- I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s alright,” Eddie says, soft, shaking his head. “I’m okay, Buck. I’m still okay. Like I promised.”

Buck makes a terrible little noise and steps backward, and again, off the porch. Eddie follows, hands out, trying to make sure he won’t trip. “Eddie,” he says again, “Eddie.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, keeping his voice low, calming, less likely to wake any neighbors. “Buck, it’s okay. Do you want to come inside?”

Buck looks up behind Eddie, where the door is wide open. Light spills through, shining in his eyes, in the unshed tears there. “I don’t want to… waste… any time I have.”

“What-”

Buck kisses him. The sound Eddie makes is more frightened than anything, even as his arms come up around Buck, to hold him close, to hold him up. It’s not- it’s wet, and Buck’s fingers almost hurt where they’re dug into the sides of Eddie’s head. Their faces are pressed too hard together, noses crushed into cheeks. Their lips are barely even aligned. Buck gasps a hitching breath into his mouth and Eddie pulls back. Not away, just enough to speak.

“Come inside,” he pleads. “Buck, come inside, just- please, come inside.”

Buck doesn’t let go of him, doesn’t give him an inch, but lets Eddie pull him into the house. Eddie’s not sure how he manages not to trip going blind and backwards, but they make it through the door, down the hall, to the living room. Eddie’s not even sure if he’d count what’s happening as kissing, but Buck’s mouth presses into his over and over as they go.

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, between the moments of contact. “It’s okay,” he says as he kicks a shoe or something out of their path, “It’s okay,” as sits back down on the couch. Buck climbs on top of him immediately, and Eddie hopes the combined weight of them doesn’t pop the ice pack that ended up crushed under his thigh. It is kissing, now, the desperate kind of making out Eddie remembers with Shannon in the day or two on either side of his deployments. Eddie slides his hands to rest firm against Buck’s lower back to anchor him — or maybe both of them — and follows Buck’s lead as their lips slide together, as Buck gets his mouth open and chases his tongue, as they gasp raggedly for air without ever breaking apart. He’s not sure, but he thinks Buck is crying. Eddie isn’t, barely. Buck needs someone solid right now, someone who will let him take what he needs and be okay if this is it, if this is the only time they have this. Because Eddie’s not fooling himself. He laid there at the bottom of that pit under all that rubble and heard Buck’s scream, first wordless, and then Tommy, and then Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He knows that this might all be too much, too soon, too mixed up, and if Buck pulls away from this kiss and never comes in for another one that’s okay. He wishes, maybe, that it could have happened different. He wishes Buck had been smiling, and it had been gentler, on a bright afternoon, on a good day. But it’s okay.

It goes until Buck’s elbow catches a bruise and Eddie can’t stop a small, pained sound from getting out. Buck jerks back like he touched a hot stove, eyes open to near circles as he looks Eddie all over. Eddie knows it's sort of a rough picture, all purple and blue and a fresh line of stitches cutting a half moon around his temple from forehead to just under his mole. Buck’s fingers come up to trace it, not quite touching the skin. Just the shape, in the air.

“S-sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so- I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says again. He wipes a thumb under Buck’s eye, though it doesn’t do much to clear away the still falling tears. Buck leans into the touch, though, and then in further, head cradling against Eddie��s shoulder as he slides half off him onto the couch. Eddie slides his fingers into Buck’s hair, wraps his other arm around him as Buck coughs muffled little sobs into his t-shirt.

“S-sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Buck.” His hair feels a little limp, greasy. Eddie wonders if he went home at all, took a shower, ate. His own fridge is kind of dire — he was planning on going to the grocery store after work until a building collapsed on him — but he could probably scrounge up something. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I scared you.”

Buck scoffs a single, wet laugh. “No,” he says, voice thin, scrubbing at his face as he sits more upright. “It’s not- you didn’t do it on purpose. That’s the job, right?”

The job that killed your husband. Why would you want to do this a second time? I care for you so much and I’m so sorry you reciprocate. “Yeah. Still.”

Buck inhales and exhales, shaky, and nods in thanks. He makes a face and pulls another ice pack out from under him. It’s all floppy now, probably too warm to be effective. “God. Let me…” He stands, gathering up all the ice packs he can see and heading towards the kitchen.

“You don’t have to-”

“I’ll be just a minute.”

Eddie sighs, leaning back into the couch and listening to the freezer door open and its contents get shuffled around. The soft hiss of it shutting, Buck’s footsteps, Buck in the doorway sheepishly holding an armful of frozen vegetables. Eddie arranges peas and carrots over the worst sore spots as Buck sits back down beside him.

“Did you take anything?”

“Yeah, just before you got here.” Extra strength ibuprofen, so he won’t be good to take anything else until morning. Wasn’t going to be a problem when he thought he was just going to sleep, though he wishes he’d taken a smaller dose now so he could spread them out, time it better to however long they’ll be talking here.

“Good.” Buck sighs, looking at him with furrowed brows. “Sorry I… I didn’t mean to be so dramatic, coming here.”

Eddie laughs, startled and genuine. “It’s, uh, been a dramatic day.”

Buck hums agreement, a tired and beautiful smile pulling at his lips. He flops his head sideways onto the couch. “I kind of had a… an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Of what I was going to say. Because…” he searches Eddie's face. “I'm not- I'm not making it up, right? There's something here? You feel it too?”

Eddie can barely breathe. “Yeah, I- it's not just you. But- Buck, I understand why you wouldn't want to do this, why you wouldn't want to take the risk. I- I have feelings for you,” it feels like a childish way to say it even as the words leave his mouth, “But I… you're my friend. I think you're my best friend. And I am truly fine with that. You don’t have to… it’s okay.”

That smile. “That’s the thing. That’s what I’ve been thinking about. N-not just today. Though, I guess- you scaring the shit out of me made it more- more real.” He chews at his lip for a moment. “I… spend a lot of time wishing… that I had more of it, with Tommy. That we had longer together. Or at least that I- that I’d made sure every minute counted, you know? B-but I think maybe I did? I loved him so much and we- it was good, what we had. Just because it ended, that doesn’t mean the rest wasn’t worth it. I’d love him again, knowing what was coming. And, so…” he takes a deep breath. “So I’ve been thinking that… even if I… even if something bad could happen- I don’t want that to stop me from having something good, now.”

“Buck-”

“Hold on,” Buck says, a hand up, a wry smile. “I have a part two.”

“Okay.” Eddie’s turned towards him without really noticing, both of them sitting one leg folded up on the couch so their knees touch.

“I’m not… going to stop loving Tommy. And I’m, uh- kind of a fucking mess, as I just demonstrated. I don’t- know that I’m- going to be any less messy any time soon.” There’s a furrow in his brows that Eddie wants to smooth out. “I don’t know that starting something would be fair to you.”

“I-”

“You’re a very kind man, Eddie.” Buck says it very softly, and one of his hands comes to rest so gently on Eddie’s leg. “I think you’d let me fall apart here forever, but I want- I want you to really think if it’s worth it-”

“Buck.” Eddie’s voice is sharp enough that Buck blinks several times, quick. “Don’t- you’re worth it. Your pain isn’t- it’s not some kind of chore to me. I haven’t been just- hanging around, waiting until you’re a fun guy. I like you, Buck, right now, not- not some other perfectly okay version of you.”

Buck’s fingers twitch against Eddie’s thigh. “You’re a very kind man,” he repeats.

“I don’t even know if that’s true,” Eddie sighs, the material of the couch soft where he rests his cheek against it. “I just…” He thinks back to that first day Buck showed up at the station, and then to every day after that. “I think I always just wanted… to make your life easier.”

“Oh.” Buck shuts his eyes, whistles a breath through his nose. “You- you do. You do, Eddie.”

They’re quiet, at an impasse. The whole world is quiet, here at nearing 3 am with all the colors purple dark outside of this lamp lit room. Eddie can hear crickets and frogs if he listens hard enough. “Tommy was my friend. I’ve felt… guilty.”

Buck opens his eyes again. “For liking me?”

Eddie smiles a little at the phrasing — Sophia’s 8th grade voice saying like-like in his head — and nods. “It feels… disrespectful. He loved you so much, I don’t- I don’t know how he’d feel about it.”

Buck scratches a nail absently against the fabric of Eddie’s sweatpants. “We talked about it, a little.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The jobs we have, you know? It’s not like- it’s not like we never got hurt, never thought about what would happen if one of us…” Buck shrugs, and his smile aches this time. “I told him if I died he had to be sad forever, only love me the rest of his life.”

Eddie laughs. “Mm. Reasonable ask.”

Buck nods, smile getting bigger, almost a grin. “I didn’t mean it, but… You know, I think he would have. He was teasing when he promised, but… he was serious, too, I think.” He sighs. “He told me he was scared I wouldn’t let anyone love me. He said I-” Buck’s voice cracks badly enough he has to wait a few moments to continue. “I’m too easy to love. I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t go without it.”

Eddie feels a little wide eyed. “That’s…”

“Isn’t that just annoyingly romantic?” Buck laughs, wiping his eyes. “Reasonable ask. Jesus.” He scrubs harder. “I think he… he wanted to make my life easier, too. You’re… you’re so alike, sometimes.” He winces. “No, that’s- I don’t mean- that’s not why I-”

“No, it’s… I know you’re not trying to replace him.” It’s not like he hasn’t had the thought, himself. He and Tommy got on so well in part because they were alike. Shared hobbies, both army, both carrying around a complicated relationship with their families and their sexuality. But they’re their own people. And- “I wouldn’t want to… try to be that, for you.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.”

There’s another quiet minute. Hesitantly, Eddie rests his hand palm up next to Buck’s. Buck slides their fingers together, and they fit as well as any hands do. “So… what do you want to do? What do you want to happen?”

Buck squeezes. “I… I’m not sure.”

Eddie nods. “Has there… am I the first person? After?”

Buck’s eyes get a little calculating, like he’s not sure he should say whatever comes next. “I hooked up with a girl, a few months in, uh, a little before I came to the 118. In a bar somewhere, I don’t even remember… And then I went home and, uh-” he winces, glances to the side. “I almost killed myself.”

“Buck-” Jesus, jesus-

“No, no-” Buck squeezes tighter, sits up a little straighter. “I didn’t. I didn’t and I wouldn’t. I- I’m safe, I promise, Eddie. It wasn’t- it wasn’t even actually an attempt, I just… thought about it.” He swallows. “It was close, I guess.”

Eddie’s clinging more than holding his hand. “Buck- if- I don’t want to-”

“No,” Buck shakes his head, firm. “I didn’t tell you because I- I thought if we-” his other hand wraps around the two of theirs. “I don’t want you to think if we move forward you’re putting me in danger. You’re not. I- I wasn’t doing well back then, it was hardly even about- it was a lot of things. I’m going to be okay, I swear.”

“If- If you’re ever not-” words feel like physical objects in Eddie’s throat, choking and uncomfortable. “Promise me you’ll tell someone, Buck. It- it doesn’t have to be me, just- promise me.”

“I promise,” Buck says, solemn, serious. His thumb rubs gently at the back of Eddie’s hand. “I’m sorry, I- I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“No,” Eddie disagrees immediately. “It’s… I asked. I want to know. I-” they complete another loop on this circle of a conversation. “I told you, your pain isn’t a chore. You don’t need to hide anything from me.”

“Right,” Buck sighs.

“Buck.”

“No, I-” Buck laughs a little at Eddie’s admonishing tone. “That was a right, I understand, not a yeah, right. I just-” he takes a hand away from the tangle they’ve got going and runs it through his hair. “God, I’m tired.”

Eddie nods. He’s exhausted, down in his bones. “Okay. I’ve got two things to say that don’t really go together, this time.”

“Okay,” Buck smiles at him, eyes crunched up and fond. “Hit me.”

“First, I think…” Eddie sits up straighter, too, takes a deep breath. “I like you, Buck. I- care for you. I- I-” Truth has to go both ways. Fuck it. “I’m in love with you. You should probably know that.”

Buck nods, eyes wet again. “Okay.”

“But I think if we… If you want to try being together, we should take it slow, and if you need to back out, that's okay. You’re my friend, and I swear to you that’s more important to me than anything else. So… So we have to just keep being honest with each other, even if it might hurt.”

“Alright,” Buck nods again, wiping his eyes. He manages a smile. “Was that the second thing, or…”

Eddie shakes his head, lips quirking up. “No. The second thing is, you wanna come sleep with me?”

Buck throws his head back laughing, almost losing balance where he sits. Eddie grabs his elbow to make sure he won’t fall over. “Eddie-”

“It’s late,” Eddie explains, not bothering to keep the adoration out of his voice now that he doesn’t really have to. “You shouldn’t drive home, my bed’s more comfortable than the couch.”

Buck laughs again, resting his elbow on the couch and his chin on his hand. He looks at Eddie, and Eddie thinks there’s plenty of adoration in that gaze, too. He shakes his head, though. “I think I’ll still take the couch tonight, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is.”

Buck raises their still clasped hands and kisses Eddie’s knuckles, holding his smile pressed into the skin there for a few moments. “And in the morning we can start to… figure out the rest of it?”

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers. Smiles once, twice. “See you then. Looking forward to it.”

Buck ducks his head, though his smile is still visible. “Yeah. Me too. Go- get some sleep, Eddie. I’ll-” he laughs, looking around them. “I’ll put away your peas.”

“Oh,” Eddie lifts up a bag of mushy vegetables. “No, I can do it, don’t worry about it.”

“Eddie.” Buck stands, gently taking the bag, and hesitating only a moment before he bends down and carefully kisses his cheek. From only a few inches away, eyes soft and close and blue, he says “I want to make your life easier, too.”

Eddie swallows hard, rests his hand against Buck’s cheek for just a second, and nods, momentarily incapable of words. Buck is halfway to the kitchen when he manages to say “Goodnight, Buck.”

Buck turns in the doorway. Smiles. “Goodnight, Eddie. See you in the morning.”

[bangchansgirlsblog]

OH. MY. GOD.

Need a part 2 of the Hyunjin introducing his gf fic !!!

And for requests maybe skz chan and reader get into an argument and the other members side with him too cause of a misunderstanding and u feel wronged so u go off the grid like Mia without your phone and when they realise that it was just a misconception they call u but you're obvi not picking up ...and they show up to your apartment or sum but you ignore them?

I love your writing so much ASJSJFJDJSJA

“The fight”

-Chan

Warning: Angst

Pairing: Chan x reader

Summary: the fight over who sings what and why you can’t sing a specific part

HELP- DHURHEHS to whoever requested this I’m so sorry 😭I’m gonna make an actual better one yeah? Just bear with me on this one. 🩷

I had such bad writers block and I couldn’t think of anything 😔

**

Being in a relationship with one of your band mates is hard. It's the hardest thing you'll do and you'll probably end up broken up and out the band.

That didn't happened to me (thank God) but the day they told us that we had a comeback soon and we also had tour coming soon we all knew this was fighting season.

The season where we all fought each-other and couldn't stand each-other because of all the hours in the studio rooms together.

The season we all stepped on each-other's toes or bumped into one another learning new choreography.

The season where we had to learn 10+ dances with 15+ different concepts. Makeup 24/7 to hide our eye bags and avoid fans with the same questions. "What's the new album about?" Or "do we have a Y/n and Chan collaboration??"

Comeback season was the season where anxiety was high and our coffeee intake was higher and I was slowly losing my patience.

I was a ticking time bomb.

"Chan I think that I.N's verse should go here," I tell my boyfriend who was sat on his rolling chair. We were all sitting in the studio and throwing ideas back and forth the whole straykids song. "See if I.N sings this part then I'll sing this part cause I can't sing that high note Chan. I really can't."

"Changing that will have to make us change everything again babe because I.N's voice can't go right after Seungmin's voice then back to your voice," He sighs while rubbing his tired eyes and yanking at his hair.

This song was getting to all of us. It was the last one after all so it had to be the best song in the album. The best one so stays could sing along.

"Chan's right because then me and Han will have to change verses again, which will mess up the whole song." Changbin adds on. He was laying on Hyunjin's lap while Hyunjin slowly scrolled through whatever it was he was on.

"I know but you guys gave me the hardest part and you know I'm singing all the high notes in almost all songs!" I exclaim and roll my eyes.

This wasn't our first argument today. It was obvious but we had to get everything done. Even if this was our 20th argument we had to get everything done. That's all that mattered.

"Y/n. You don't have to be so difficult. Just do it," Chan says while putting down his book and pen and letting out another frustrated sigh.

I frown at the fact that they refused to listen to me. Nothing would have to be difficult if they just listened.

"I'm not being difficult I'm just telling you guys my voice won't be able to handle-"

"Y/n you've complain this whole day, can you just please stop. My head is banging," Leeknow cuts me out. He was laying in the corner on the couch. Head down with a hat on. "Look I love you but just do it. It can't be that hard," He grumbles and closes his eyes.

The boys were all silent clearly not going to back me up and it hurt. I wasn't being annoying. I know I wasn't because my voice ached. My voice was strained and they didn't even care.

My vision goes blurry as I just sit back and keep quiet, not daring to speak because of the fear of my voice failing.

"Can you not cry right now please? You've cried the whole day too and I'm tired of it. You can't cry out of every situation," Chan, my boyfriend, MY boyfriend says y heart breaks into millions of pieces.

His eyes go wide as he realizes the damage his caused. His body quickly turning to my direction as he reaches out for my hand.

"Really Chan? Are you being Foreal right now?" I get up from the chair I was in. The hot tears starting to slowly fall down my cheek.

"No wait babe I didn't mean that-"

"Maybe if I'm such a cry baby I shouldn’t be in the fucking group." I spit at him with so my venom in my tone.

"No babe I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, okay? Let's just chill out right now."

If they thought I was this horrible they should just kick me out of the team. They clearly won't listen to me. Why would Chan treat me like this?

"Why do you guys never listen to what I have to say about anything? Y'all always just do what you want!" I exclaim and get up from my chair causing Chan to stand up and the boys to pay attention.

"We do listen to you baby, sometimes is just that your ideas aren't the best and affect all of us."

"I'm trying to tell you that I can't hit that note and Seungmin can, why do you have to be so difficult about it?"

"I'm the difficult one? I'm the difficult one?" He exclaims and throws his hands up in the air.

"Y/n maybe let's not start an argument right now," Felix interrupts our conversation making me glare at him.

I glare at Felix as more anger fills me.

"Felix are you really taking his side right now?"

"I'm not in just saying we shouldn't be arguing like this, it's getting too much!"

"Okay then I'll leave-"

"Are you serious right now bro? We have things to do," Han says jumping into the argument.

"Then do them without me! I'm done with this." I start grabbing my stuff and furiously wiping my now flowing tears.

"Ugh!" Chan growls and throws something at the wall causing my to jump. I look up at him and watch him rubbing his temples and mumbling words.

I was clearly not going to be listen to and I was clearly being "difficult". I refuse to be around any of them. Atleast not right now.

Without hesitating I grab my stuff and walk out the door hearing a "No wait don't go!" Before I slam it.

But then the door automatically opens right after and I hear my name being called.

"Babe stop, come back. I'm sorry okay?" I hear Chan's footsteps getting closer to me. I don't even bother to look his way but his hand had already wrapped around mine and he turned me around.

"Leave me alone Chan. I'm tired of fighting you."

"I'm not fighting you baby, let's talk please? Let's figure it out." His hand quickly wraps around my waist as he pulls me to somewhere quiet.

I look at him eager for him to start the conversation and he can sense it.

"Tell me why you don't want to sing that part of the song when we both know you can,"

He softly says as his hands rub mine.

"Chan it's nothing.."

"It's something because something's wrong and you're not telling me."

"My voice.." I start before clearing my throat and looking into his eyes that we're searching for mine "My throat hurts everytime I sing now and I'm slowly losing it Chan,"

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to worry you-"

"Baby I am supposed to worry about you, I'm still your group leader and anything that happens to you will be braught back to me. Have you checked with the medical stuff?"

"Yeah I did, they said I should be put on vocal rest."

"That's really bad baby, you should have just told us and we could have figured out stuff, I'm sorry I tried to push you,"

"It's okay, I know I can be a handful sometimes,"

"No don't say that, your not a handful. We just have to listen to you and stop being jerks."

"Yeah I can agree with that." I let out a chuckle and he smiles.

"I love you," his hands wipe my tears and he kisses my forehead.

"I love you too baby."

"Let's go back in the studio and I'll explain everything to the boys yeah? I'm sure they'll be more lenient now." He softly says and intertwines our fingers.

**

Thank you for the request baby🩷

[aechii]

₍₍ GiVE AND YOU SHALL RECEiVE ₎⁠₎

PAiRiNG ?! toxic!jude x toxic!blackfemreader

GENRE ?! angst

SYNOPSiS ?! jude thinks his nonchalance is acceptable, and finds no fault in it. but two can play at that game...

C/W ?! she/her pronouns used, unhealthy relationship, i made jude an asshole in this sorry not sorry, but he has regrets?, reader is just petty, break up *sobs*, reader deserves better

A/N ?! was gifted a prompt by @loadivine and it was love at first sight. i knew i had to write this fic immediately so all credit goes to them, thanks babeee ❤️ anyways, sit back and enjoy the hellish doings within a toxic relationship. hope i did it justice 🤗

~°~

[y/n] took pride, and found contentment in, the fact that jude didn't reside within the stigma of footballer, swearing by the truth and only the truth, finding no shame in being vulnerable and open with her as couples do.

so jude wasn't always like this. there was a time where the relationship was 100/100, both received and both gave love, found it much more beneficial to dissolve an argument as quick as it came into fruition. communication is key, and it was a virtue they both stood by, because at the end of the day, they lived together, and would have to conclude to a resolution anyways.

but now, [y/n] couldn't even consider jude as her boyfriend. couldn't look at the man that held a countenance so foreign and distant and proclaim that he was her's and vice versa. because frankly speaking, she felt vastly the opposite.

it was like jude was a dead weight, and she was forced to drag him along with all the other burdens that she had. the relationship now distributed at 0/200, [y/n] could slowly sense the demise of her patience, a ticking time bomb, but she knew she loved jude more than life itself, and letting him go- breaking up with him was heinous. unfathomable.

she was told, urged, to end things things with him. remembers crying to her sister the hour she came home from a night out with jude. they had both left the house with hands linked and returned without the other.

jude had found no wrong in the girl that had seemingly bonded her body to his all night, and when [y/n] had noticed, confronting him about it in the car, he turned a blind eye. offered no reassurance that whatever happened at the party was on the woman's own accord and that he wasn't to blame.

it was almost as if he enjoyed it.

"so how would you like it if a random dude followed me around the whole night, hm?"

looked at her as if he was listening, feigned attentiveness as he nodded calmly and said, "i dunno."

shrugged and began to recline his seat backward, sensing the crawling ache of sleep in his muscles. would rather doze off here than listen to his girlfriend rant about something he had no fleeting thought for.

he didn't have the intention to even talk to the girl outside the four walls of the grandeur hall. couldn't find it in himself to care about anything, really.

jude could hear the nipping anger as his girlfriend's eyebrows scrunch and she became more rigid.

"you dunno?"

"exactly what i said."

felt dumbfounded at his blunt response, as if he had physically forced tape upon her lips to keep her silent.

"you keep pestering me about shit that i couldn't give a flying fuck about, [y/n]. we are together, not me and her." voice had raised in attitude just an inch. riddled [y/n] in a horrid way and immediately snapped at him back.

"check your tone with me, jude."

"haven't done shit." his retort was quick and mortifyingly calm. remained with loosened flesh as he retreated into the cushioned car seat, closing his eyes.

"you're not going to sleep until we sort this out," [y/n] chastised. jude could honestly are less, though.

"watch me."

and she had indeed. looked on in disbelief as the man in front of her shut his eyes, arms enveloping his chest. whether to actual sleep, or to pull her leg, she didn't care. was completely done with everything to do with jude.

she hurriedly gathered her things in the car, muttering, "i'm so fucking done with your shit," before exiting the car with a vexed slam of the door. made the inconvenient but rather preferred idea to call an uber to her sister's house, which wasn't that much further from her and jude's. she would undoubtedly stay over for a night or two than look at the stranger she had called her boyfriend.

didn't have an ounce of care on whether jude got home safely or not. put her phone on silent as she sat at the back of the taxi, tears already permeating down her face. [y/n] could feel the stare of the driver from his mirror, but was too exhausted to reprimand him for his blatancy.

she didn't know what else she was expecting when she sought comfort from her sister. had heard all those words before, many a time, and although she knew her sibling was right, [y/n] couldn't muster up the courage to actually go through with it.

"it's either you settle all of this once and for all, or you break up with him."

she had wanted to laugh right there and then, remembering what had occurred when she had attempted to talk things out, a few nights before.

had asked jude to chat, to which he replied with a low, dismissive hum, it hurt more than she showed.

"jude."

his eyes didn't leave his phone, leaving his girlfriend frustrated. took matters into her own hands and snatched it from him, but received a minutely dazed jude, staring at his empty palm, sighing.

"what do you want, babe?"

the endearment sounded wrong, in all directions and in every twisted way. it made the girl scoff.

"babe? so now i'm your babe?" tone incredulous, [y/n]'s glare remained stitched to the side of jude's head.

he turned to her, face relaxed and composed, without a silver of care. found it within himself to feign the affection, however.

"what do you mean? of course you are! we haven't broken up, have we?"

it was not a question but rather a statement. urged to end the conversation right there and retreat to their room upstairs but [y/n] emanated persistence.

"well you're fucking acting like it," [y/n] retorted, "do you even care about me anymore?"

jude didn't think about his response, it was all habitual, second nature, " 'course i do."

his words triggered a disbelieving scoff from the girl beside him, "really?"

jude nodded and left it at that. picked at a curl in his fingers and started rolling it between his thumb and index.

his lack of reply irritated [y/n], face scrunched into an almost permanent scowl, "you're not even trying, jude! you barely acknowledge my presence or even talk to me. what the hell is wrong?"

shook his head and mumbled, "nothing."

"i'm not stupid, ju-"

interrupted by a man who, despite his laid back attitude, held so much vindiction. head slumped against the back of the sofa, eyes finding solitude in staring ahead rather than at the woman before him.

"maybe see that the glass is half full, and not half empty, [y/n]."

there's an inkling of dread, masked with confusion however, that stabbed the girl's heart at his insinuation. silently begged the heavens that what she thought is a product of stupid overthinking.

"what are you talking about?" wished it came out stronger and harsher, as intended, but only released as soft questioning.

"be happy that i'm still here- still with you. you're lucky."

if she had relayed his words to her sister, she knew she would've received a slap to the head. they were a flashing persistent warning sign that it was time to leave. that it was the beginning of the end. jude saw the relationship as [y/n]'s honour, something that would benefit her as long as she remained with him.

but this time around, [y/n]'s sister concluded her lecture with a sentence that had her younger sibling's mind scream fucking eureka!

"or you could do neither, and make him feel what you feel. return that energy, [y/n]."

+_-

jude couldn't conjure a reason as to why he had counted just how long [y/n] had been like... that.

he knew that something was off the second she had walked back in the house 2 days after their fight in the car. had not felt the rippling force of a slamming door, or the frustrated collision of keys upon wood.

everything was sedated. the vibe, especially, had plummeted down to a neutral level, and as much as it should've put jude at ease, he would've rather she had burst in, angered, than strolled in with not a vehement thought in mind.

but at that point in time, it wasn't anything he was deeply concerned about. pushed it in the back of his mind, just in case he had to retrieve it later, but everything came rushing back at an unforeseeable velocity that it gave jude whiplash.

on the scale of their relationship, [y/n]'s side seemed to have abandon more than half of its weight. as jude could slowly envision their sides levelling out as he began to plunge from his high, and she commenced her rise.

and then it became 0/0.

+_-

shamed him to say that it had been weeks since he has received any form of affection from his partner. it was baffling the first day he left the house the ritual kiss from his girlfriend. he may have not returned the sentiment, or said anything toward appreciating it, but he internally found it grounding. and without it, he feared a curse would come.

he was just about to leave for training, yet halted as he realised that he hadn't felt the remnants of his girlfriend's lips on his. turned around with a confused face and said, "no kiss?"

[y/n] had not lifted her attention from the phone in front of her, attentively watching a new episode of her current fave, "you'll be fine, jude."

"uh, no?"

she sighed, cocking her head as her face screamed apathy, "jude, you'll be late. just go."

still confused, jude left the house with the inkling feeling that things were to go downwards. yet kept the façade that he was unaffected, though he was palpably the opposite, and proceeded with the day. had thought that maybe she in a temporary sour mood, and things would turn around soon enough.

it never did.

+_-

"you're not listening to me, [y/n]."

the girl rolled her eyes lazily, "i hear you, jude. i'm just not in the mood right now."

the tv blared with another saturday night show, left jude severely disinterested, but [y/n] appeared invested.

"so when will you be all ears to listen to what i have to say?"

the girl shrugged and left his words unresponded to. annoyed, jude grabbed the remote from the sofa, shutting the tv off. heard [y/n] exhale exasperatedly, then felt his side of the couch dip as she arose from her seat.

"i'm going to bed then."

jude didn't give her time to step an inch away from her place, gripping her arm firmly as he spoke, "you're not going anywhere until we speak."

[y/n] began to maniacally chortle, and it slightly frightened the man behind her.

"oh, haven't i heard those words before."

realisation hit jude like a punch to the gut, and anger is the first instinct that overtook his thinking, "so you know what you're doing?"

"i'm not doing shit jude." yanked her arm out of the man's hold as she turned around to face him, "and leave me alone, for God's sake."

jude looked at his girlfriend incredulously, finding it hard to believe that the girl in front of him was acting unlike herself.

"speak to me, [y/n]," could hear the urgency in his tone but knew that there were more serious matters at hand, "we're a couple, we communicate."

"oh fuck off with that, jude," her words were visceral, eyes hardened into a seething stare.

"you didn't care when you were doing it to me, but now you know how it feels, all of a sudden, 'we communicate'."

the truth in her words left the boy dumb, looking at her helplessly as he tried to rummage his mind for words to say.

to tell her that he was sorry. that, although he never said it, he needed her as he needed air to breathe.

but pride, the downfall of men, was the manacle that chained him away from resolution. was well aware that he was in the wrong, but had too much dignity than necessary, and saying 'sorry' was almost bitter in his throat.

"you're being petty, [y/n]."

"and you're not seeing the real problem, jude!" stopped herself before her mouth lead her mind.

"you know what- i'm leaving."

mind sped to a screeching pause, and [y/n] almost laughed at the shock that painted jude's face.

"l-leaving? to where?"

hadn't planned for this to happen. it was all too ill-fitting in this timeline, everything was against them, yet he had no one but himself to blame.

"baby, look- i'm sorry, so sorry. we can fix this, just... don't leave, okay?" jude cupped his girlfriend's face in his hands, placing his forehead on her's, "i've been stupid, i know. i've been an idiot."

waited for the girl to reply, but could physically feel his heart compress into itself as her touch came upon his wrists, gently peeling his palms from her cheeks.

"let me go, jude."

"go where, [y/n]?! home is here... with me," jude insisted, feeling his voice crack. knew that where they stood were at different frequencies, and now he fought for something that was dwindling with no point of return. he had a chance in the past, but was foolish to not take advantage of it.

[y/n] didn't find it within herself to reply, walking away as she picked up her keys from the kitchen counter. jude was hot on her trail, locking her in a backward embrace.

"don't go, please."

she squeezed her eyes shut, sensing his authenticity as his despair siphoned into her skin. but she was so over it, over how he cared so late into decline of their relationship, over how selfish jude was every moment up until now.

his shit didn't faze him, until it came back to strike him tenfold.

"it's not worth fighting over anymore. you know this jude."

his arms loosened around her waist, resting dead by his sides. felt sickeningly weak at the inevitable, looming demise.

"so we're done?"

never would've [y/n] thought she would be hearing those words,.pertaining to her own relationship. but here she was, losing the man that had once had been knitted to her soul.

"yeah. we are."

[oneshotnewbie]

Can I request Spencer Hastings x Reader where A actually made Spencer hurt someone while being at the dollhouse where she is covered in blood and it's Reader? At the hospital Aria sees that Reader gets stitched up because she is having a deep cut from a knife and tells the other when she goes to Spencer's room? Spencer is all worried because you changed since then and are all quite and not that bubbly she used to know you and she also knows that A took all the anger out of Reader and she had to take the most shit because A thinks that Reader is the weakest member of the girls squad? At home Reader doesn't want to talk to Spencer or the girls at all until Spencer is all messed up on her door and crying her eyes out because she remembers what happens? Angst and fluff please???!

⚠️Trigger warning! ⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of kidnapping, blood, stabbing/cutting wounds. These plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

---

Two months. Your friends and you had struggled to survive for two whole months.

A had played games with you, tortured, despised and treated you as puppets. Asking so much mentally that you all didn't even know what you should feel after your, almost failed, escape. At least not you.

You didn't know how you could ever be around your best friends again after A urged you to shock them, choose who was next to play his sick game and who wasn't allowed to get water for the next few days. But apparently they had taken out their desperation on you too; you didn't get anything to drink or eat for days. A even managed to bring Spencer to hurt you.

And now you were out of the underground hell and had no idea what to do next and how you should behave towards Spencer. She apparently had no idea about the night when you woke up on her bedroom floor, your best friend attacking you like a fury and hurting you; A had probably put her on some kind of drug.

But you escaped the chaos thanks to Alison and were now in the hospital for observation according to the circumstances and the lack of nutrients. Mentally you had suffered a lot and it was not easy for all of you to return to a regular life but you knew that somehow, the girls would get through it.

While the others had probably gathered to talk about what had happened, you were bound to your bed and frankly you were glad for it. Standing across from Spencer would be too uncomfortable for you at the moment.

You looked at the ceiling with your lackluster eyes while you gave the doctor the time to sew up the last few inches of your abdominal wound, not really listening to him or the words that came out of his mouth- Your thoughts completely wandering off.

They were repeatedly disturbed by a gentle drop of the liquid flowing to your vein and it was unbearable for you to hear this noise, it brought you back to the place where you didn't hear anything else except the ticking clock in your supposedly own room.

With a violent pull, the door to your room opened with a loud squeak and you jumped up before you let yourself fall back onto the couch with a wrinkled nose, a pained face and tightly closed eyes.

"I´m sorry. I did not know-eh." the short brunette stuttered as she stood in the doorway and looked at you in shock. Staring eyes and an open mouth embraced the long cut on your stomach, which stretched sideways to your navel.

A little embarrassed, you pulled the piece of cloth you were wearing over the doctor´s hands to uselessly hide the cut - she´d already seen it anyway. The old man in front of you stopped in his movements and put the instruments he had a hold of in his hands aside before turning to Aria. "I am asking you to leave. We´re in the middle of a treatment."

She nodded quickly apologized before she took a few steps back, still confused without further speaking, and the door clicked shut with a soft click.

You actually intended to keep it a secret from your friends, but you knew that as soon as Aria entered the other girls room, she would tell them what she had seen and you had no chance to talk your way out of it.

And then the whole truth would come out.

---

Confused by the imagine she had of her best friend and the huge gap on her abdomen a few seconds ago, the little brunette walked quickly down the hospital corridor to get to Spencer´s room where they all wanted to meet up.

She had not learned anything from just now and threw herself against the heavy door to open it, also without knocking first, and now stood in the entrance of the bare room. Three tired and lost pairs of eyes settled on her and surveyed the enraged statue, which stood in front of them with a wide open mouth.

Completely isolated in her thoughts, Aria sat down on one of the chairs that Emily had already placed in front of Spencer´s bed and fumbled around with her fingers. She bit her lip bloody from sheer worry and not knowing when the deep and long cut on your stomach was made and who was responsible for it, but one thing was clear; if she found out who A was, she would kill him for the pain that person had caused you and the others.

"Earth to Aria.. are you okay?" Hanna tore her out of her thoughts and gently nudged the smallest of the pack. Now Spencer and Emily, who were talking wildly earlier, had stopped and looked eagerly at the brunette. "Yes.. no. I´m okay but Y/n is not."

"What about her? Have you seen her?" Spencer abruptly intervened in the conversation, sitting up from her laying position. Her voice had lost it´s tone, was hoarse and low, even though she had just sounded perfectly normal not too long ago. "What happened?"

"I went to check on her because I was worried and then I saw how she was being treated." Aria quietly informed her friends as she cleared her throat and started playing with her fingernails. "She has a huge cut on her stomach. Something happened to her down there and she has not told us anything."

Shocked looks turned to the youngest of the group and she pushed back in the chair. Crossing her legs and arms, Aria looked back and forth between the girls and caught on to Spencer. She could clearly see the brunettes pulse in the main artery of her neck, the trembling of her dilated pupils surrounded by nervousness.

---

The situation between Spencer and you lay like a stone on the brunettes heart. Through therapy sessions with Sullivan, she had managed to partially bring her memories back to the fore.

The person she did this to was still fuzzy but it must have been you; the wound Aria had told her about matching where the blade in her hand pierced through the body beneath her. She had felt it was you. Of that she was sure.

But you remained silent about this situation as if this event had not happened in your reality. A week had passed in which you were discharged from the hospital with a whole medicine cabinet. Since then, you had been holed up in your room at your family home with no communication to Spencer.

Calls and messages flooded your phone, even literally exploding it with requests about getting in touch with her; at least let her know how you are doing. But she never got a single answer and your chat remained empty from your side.

The paths to your front door were softly lit as she walked through them. Flares were placed to the right and left of the pacing stone and illuminated the entire flower-planet front yard. The sprinkler system whirred next to her as she took one step after the other.

On the way here, she had given herself a motivational speech, but it disappeared with ever step she took.

Reaching the mahogany-like doors, she stood motionless and still on the patio. Her heart raced as she exhaled shakily and began pounding on them. It was a cooler evening, one of the firsts when she thought about it, and it had been too cold to wear a loose shirt. Spencer would have preferred a sweater, but that was of secondary importance.

As she waited, her mind filled with a bitter emptiness. She was terrified of a confrontation with you, but it would help her understand how you were feeling and how she could make amends. If anything. The brunette wanted to be pragmatic- the most efficient way to get a satisfactory answer.

Slow footsteps sounded on the other side of the door and she thumped heavily when she heard your faint voice in the distance. She huffed and ran a hand over her long brown hair before the door opened abruptly, revealing your pale and tired features under the hood of your white hoodie.

"Y/n.." she spoke cautiously and did not dare to look at you any further. She could see the pain you were in and Spencer felt even more guilty than before. She cleared her throat, nervously pulling her hands to strap of her bag that slung over her shoulder. "Before you slam the door in my face, listen to me. Please,"

You remained silent, disbelieving who you had in front of you.

Spencer could judge by your body language that you were more than just uncomfortable. All muscles tensed in your thighs through the dark blue ripped jeans you were wearing, your hands were tucked deep in the kangaroo pocket of your hoodie and yet she could tell you were fiddling with your fingernails nervously.

Without saying a word, you moved to the side and let her into the house. As she passed thankfully with pleading eyes, she breathed in deeply the floral perfume you were wearing. Spencer missed your closeness and your warmth towards her so much that she clung to every breadcrumb that was given to her in that moment.

"Are you home alone?" she asked in irritation as she was enveloped in the silence of the walls and saw only the flickering TV in the living room. You nodded firmly, your hands mostly tucked into your sleeves and positioned in front of your body. "My parents flew to Paris"

"And left you alone after you went through hell?!"

"What do you want, Spencer?" you shouted angrily and turned your head to her with a rigid expression. Your sudden explosion let her loosen from her rigidity before she stared at you with wide eyes and you thought you saw fear flicker in her eyes for a brief moment. "I do not think you came here to judge my parents."

The mood was strange. Cold, distant and restless. The unspoken swelled between the two of you. Sadness and fear burned in your chest while your best friend had a tiny spark of hope that she was trying to weave into normal conversation.

Motionless, the addressed person sat in front of you, looked deep into your pain-piercing eyes while tears stung hers. Spencer's heart was pounding deep in her chest and it had probably reached it´s highest point now. It pounded in her head, throat, abdomen and paralyzed her. It was indescribable.

The brunette swallowed hard and took a deep breath. She rested her elbows on the marble area and buried her head in her hands before rubbing across her nose. Very sheepishly with a shaky voice, she continued. "I know what I did. I remember."

Beside her you gasped and bit your lip, she could not quite identify the emotion she saw in your eyes. Where before there had been a coldness and severity, she now found something else. "W-what?" you said cautiously in a cracked voice.

Spencer kept shifting nervously on the bar stool, her hands alternately clawing at her pants, the counter in front of her or the disappeared back to the shoulder bag. "Just go now, Spencer. Please-I," you spoke suddenly, breaking her train of thought.

You ran a hand through your tousled hair nervously. "Y/n," she cut you off sharpy and your chest tightened. You found it difficult to breathe.

Spencer took another breath, ready to either explain or,what you thought was, more likely an apology. But she did not get around to it; you continued in a loud raging voice. "Do you actually know what I had to go through when you fucking came at me like a madman?"

You practically yelled at her, your voice already hoarse. You saw in your veil of tears how the older one flinched and her shoulders wandered to her ears. Nevertheless, she did not break her deep gaze, but got caught in your teary eyes. They had darkened. "Or how it felt to look into my best friend´s eyes, begging her not to do it while the knife was already penetrating my skin?"

The brunette felt like she was a little kid again. When she smashed the window with the hockey ball and was getting the lecture of the century from her parents. However, she would not end up in your comforting arms after she shed the first tears. You would not reassuringly run your fingers through her hair or insist that it was just glass and could easily be replaced.

No, this situation went much deeper.

Spencer opened her mouth that suddenly dried out. Tears streamed down her face in unison with yours and she let her eyes roam over you again. "I am so sorry.." she could not pronounce it, her throat tightening with every word. "I could never hurt you. A did something to me and that monster was not me. It is not me. I love you."

The leadership she took at the moment, trying to explain her actions, distracted from your troubled insides. You could not completely turn off your heart and the thoughts of the past hours and days.

Still, you knew her words were serious and she was genuinely sorry. It broke your heart to see her so upset. She too was under the influence of drugs that A had given her to commit the crime. You exhaled loudly and just looked at her, could not keep your mind from racing.

Slowly, you circled the counter and stepped carefully to her side. Your fingertips gently touched her cold, trembling and bare forearm. Spencer reacted to the touch she thought was impossible immediately and looked at you. A positive feeling flowed through her and she laid her head at the level of your belly button. You flinched at the pain, but swallowed it to keep her close.

You cupped her sticky, sweaty fingers and intertwined them with yours. Indescribable affection went through the brunette and she drew herself closer to the person who understood her so well. Who went through this hard time with her and who would master recovery together.

Relief flowed through the eldest, you could see it in her face which showed the corners of her mouth far raised. She knew that she still had a rough road with you ahead and that she had to help you to trust her completely again. Above all, you needed someone to overcome the nightmare and the anxiety.

But most of the ballast had fallen off her. A decisive step in the right direction.

[sophrosynesworld]

And for now, that was enough.

*Warning: this is takes place inside of the waiting room of Central Hospital after a deadly villain attack. This small story isn't necessarily graphic, but may be triggering to those who don't like the mention of blood, violence, or gore.*

“Have you heard anything?” Mina rushed across the hospital floor, her eyes swollen and red from hours of crying. Her movements were frantic, almost desperate. Kirishima was right behind her, his face covered with worry while gently resting his hand on her shoulder. As soon as Mina reached me, she threw herself into my arms and buried her face into the crook of my neck, her sobs loud and heart-wrenching.

“They took him into surgery.” My voice was barely a whisper, trembling as I spoke. I made eye contact with Kirishima, pleading with him to help me. He softly reached for Mina’s forearm and pulled her into his chest.

I sank into my chair, my hands trembling too much to push my hair away. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving me with uncontrollable tremors.

Blood—his blood—stained my arms, a horrific reminder of the bloodbath we had just left. The metallic scent clung to my skin, making my stomach churn. Memories of the attack flooded my mind: the deafening explosions, the villain’s malicious grin, and then... him, throwing himself in front of me, taking the hit.

I could still hear my own screams, raw and desperate, as I watched him fall. He had exposed himself to the enemy, using his body as a shield to protect me. Even now, the thought sent a shiver down my spine. He couldn’t die. Not after everything. Not after he had saved me.

Kirishima tightened his grip on Mina, his eyes meeting mine over her shaking shoulders. “He’s strong,” Kirishima said, his voice firm but gentle, trying to reassure both Mina and himself. “He’s going to make it.”

And so, we waited. The three of us sat in the sterile, fluorescent-lit waiting room, the silence punctuated by the steady ring of the hospitals phone and the occasional murmur of distant conversations. We tried our best to keep our minds occupied, focusing on the task of locating the rest of our classmates and then informing them about Kaminari’s condition. The minutes stretched into hours, each second ticking by with excruciating slowness.

Gradually, our classmates arrived, their faces pale and strained. Each one rushed in with frantic, repeated questions, their voices tinged with panic. “Is he okay?” “What happened?” “Have they said anything?” Each wave was a reminder of our helplessness.

The lack of news brought a strange sort of comfort. Every moment without an update meant he was still alive, still fighting. If the doctors weren’t standing in front of us with grim faces and solemn words, it meant he wasn’t dead. It meant he was battling for his life back there on that operating table, surrounded by the best medical professionals we could hope for.

I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white, trying to hold back the flood of emotions. The waiting room’s plastic chairs felt cold and unforgiving, the fluorescent lights too harsh. The smell of antiseptic overwhelming.

My mind wandered, replaying every agonizing moment in vivid detail. His blood had stained the ground, pooling beneath him. How much blood could someone lose? I had never realized that a human body could contain so much blood. But it does, and I had witnessed it firsthand.

Jiro sat next to me, her pain evident and more profound than my own. I reach for her thin, trembling hand and place it in mine, offering a reassuring squeeze before letting go. Her eyes met mine briefly before trailing down to my blood-soaked costume. A mixture of fear and worry spread across her face.

"It's not his blood," I lied, my voice steady despite the growing nausea inside me. The guilt remained with me, but at least a relieved breath escaped her lips. I don't have any reason to worry her more with the truth.

The hours dragged on, each one stretching into an eternity as exhaustion weighed heavily on us. Mina had eventually cried herself to sleep, her head resting on Kirishima's lap. Eijiro absently stroked her hair, his eyes never leaving the door to the operating room. Bakugo, Midoriya, and Todoroki sat near the doorway, a low but passionate conversation brewing between the three of them.

Finally, the door swung open, and a doctor in scrubs stepped into the waiting room. His face was calm but serious, with deep lines of fatigue etched around his eyes. He paused, his eyes scanning the room with a measured gaze before settling on us. We immediately stood up, our hearts pounding in unison, the air thick with anticipation and dread. The soft hum of the hospital machinery seemed to fade into the background as we focused entirely on the doctor, waiting for the words that could change everything.

"How is he?" Jiro asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The doctor took a deep breath, glancing over his paperwork one more time.

“He’s is stable for now. The surgery was complicated, but he pulled through. He’s a fighter.” He paused, letting the relief wash over us. “He’s not out of the woods yet, but he’s got a good chance. We’ll be monitoring him closely over the next 24 hours.”

A collective sigh of relief filled the room. Tears of gratitude sprang to my eyes as I felt the weight of the world lift slightly off my shoulders. He was alive. He was fighting. And for now, that was enough.

[sequinsmile-x]

You're Gonna Go Far

It wasn't any easier even though they'd been through this once before with Jack.

AKA - the one where Aaron and Emily's eldest daughter goes to college.

-x-

Hi friends

Given the time of year, and the amount of TikTok videos I've seen of people decorating their dorm rooms (I can tell you...mine did NOT look like that haha) this idea wouldn't leave me alone.

So here it is, close to 5k words of domestic, soft Hotchniss and their family going through something most families do.

And if you've just moved away to college you're going to be great!!

I hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: None!

Words: 4.8k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Everyone had always told her that it went quickly. 

It was something she’d been told more times than she could count during her pregnancies, both by people she knew and strangers alike. Kind-looking older ladies in the grocery store who’d touch her belly without asking and tell her to enjoy it, that before she knew it her babies would be growing up, moving away and taking everything she taught them with them. 

She’d seen it with Jack. Watched as the boy who was once her best friend's son became her son. Turning from the sweet little boy who couldn’t pronounce her name properly, to the kid that started to call her Mom just before he became a teenager, to the young man he was now. Forever making his parents proud, and the best big brother Emily’s other children could have hoped for. 

There was part of her that had still struggled to believe it. Lost in the long nights with no sleep. Parenthood slowly, but also too fast now she looked back on it, moving from sleep deprivation and sore boobs, to pretending not to cry on their first days at school so she didn’t scare them, all the way to now. Nights spent patiently watching the clock as it ticked closer to her eldest daughter’s curfew, anxious until she heard the familiar scrape of her key in the lock. Hazel had never once been late, her diligence and sensibility that came from the half of her that was Aaron always taking precedence, but Emily always worried that one day the half of her that was her would win out. Memories of what she’d been like when she was Hazel’s age haunting her as the seconds ticked by, almost making her wish she could apologise to her own mother. 

Standing on the football field of her kid's high school, the one Jack had gone to, the one Hazel was about to leave, the one where the twins still went, Emily couldn’t believe it had been 18 years. 18, long but all too short, years since she’d held her first daughter for the first time. Since Hazel was a tiny dot of a thing who had almost fit into one of Aaron’s hands. The girl who was now a young woman, taller than her mother and, as Aaron would always say, every bit as beautiful. 

It had all happened so quickly, and whilst Emily was so proud of her family, of the people her children were and would no doubt be, she yearned for the days when they were small. And she knew she’d give just about anything to have one more interrupted night of sleep where one of them crawled into her bed.

“I found our seats.”

She looks up at Aaron and smiles, nodding as he leads them into the area that had been reserved for them. She guides the twins, in first, grateful when they sit next to each other without argument, a smile flitting across her face as she watches Violet brush something off of Lucas’s shoulder. They were each other's fiercest protector, but also their harshest critic. Arguments that would sometimes feel like they would shake the whole house reminding her of when she was pregnant with them, and how Aaron would place his hand on her belly and joke it seemed like they were fighting in there, elbows and tiny feet always shifting around inside of her. 

“Are you ok, sweetheart?” Aaron asks, his hand reaching out for hers as she pauses, she turns to him and nods, unsurprised to see the same fix of emotions she was feeling in his eyes shining right back at her. 

“Yeah,” she replies, squeezing his hand in reassurance, “I’m fine, I promise.” 

Emily smiles as she sits down, blowing out a steady breath as her eyes meet Hazel’s from her place on the stage, her daughter looking every part the 18-year-old she was. Grown up in a way that made Emily’s heart clench in her chest. Hazel smiles at her, and lifts her hand to wave ever so slightly, something anyone else who was looking at her would miss, the movement making her graduation gown shift, the dark green material complimenting her dark hair.

“$10 Mom cries first,” Violet says, drawing Emily’s attention away from the stage and back to the rest of her family sitting around her. 

Emily turns to look at her youngest daughter and raises her eyebrow, “Vi, what have I said about gambling at school events?” 

“That would be a terrible bet for me to take,” Lucas says, ignoring that his mother had spoken at all as he looks at his twin sister with the scowl all of the kids had inherited from Aaron, “Mom will obviously cry first. Then Dad will cry because he always does when he sees Mom crying.”

“Kids,” Aaron says, leaning in past Emily from her other side so he can talk to them without drawing too much attention, his arm around the back of his wife’s chair, “Give your mom a break.” 

Violet shrugs and leans back in her chair, “I’m just saying, we all know Mom is tougher than you, but anything to do with us makes her cry.” 

Aaron’s eyes flick to his wife’s, not missing how her eyes briefly sparkle with amusement. It makes relief crackle in his chest. She was just as excited for Hazel as he was, and just as sad too. The prospect of their daughter now only being a couple of months away from moving away for college hung over this event just like it did with everything these days. 

He makes a show of looking annoyed, something he knows his whole family can see right through, and he furrows his brow, “You think Mom is tougher than me?” 

“Definitely,” the twins reply in unison, their voices joined by a familiar third one that makes him turn around. He smiles and stands as soon as he sees Jack, pulling his eldest into a tight hug. 

“Jack, she’ll be so pleased you made it,” he says, squeezing his son even tighter, the strength in the hug he gets back matching it. 

Jack smiles as she pulls back, “I wouldn’t miss Hazelnut graduating for the world,” he says, smiling as uses the nickname they all know Hazel hates. He smiles at Emily, who also stands up to hug her son, “Hi, Mom.” 

“Hi sweetie,” she says, kissing the side of his head as she pulls back, tilting her head towards the twins, “Your brother and sister were just placing bets on who will cry first.” 

He smiles and squeezes past her, sitting on the end seat they’d saved for him, ruffling both of the twin's dark hair as he goes, “I’ll take that bet,” he says, making Emily groan as she sits back down, “But, I’m going to say Hazel will cry first, and that will make the rest of us break.” 

Emily leans in towards her husband and speaks quietly so only he can hear her, “I’m seriously starting to regret all those times we left our precious children in the care of Dave.” 

Aaron chuckles and stamps a kiss against her lips, ignoring that Violet and Lucas catch it, both of them grimacing in the background, “Is this better or worse than when he taught Violet to curse in Italian before she even started pre-school?” 

She smiles, but any response is cut off as the commencement begins, everyone’s attention drawn to the stage in front of them. They all listen intently as the principal talks about the graduating class, making jokes and comments that draw out laughter from the sea of students wearing the dark green gowns, his smile wide as he talks about how proud the school is of them. How they’ll take everything they learnt from there wherever they go next. 

Emily feels her heart stop in her chest as he moves on, declaring the next stage of the event.

“Before we move on, it’s time for our Valedictorian, Hazel Hotchner, to make her commencement speech.” 

Aaron grabs her hand, linking their fingers together as Hazel walks up to the podium. She looks over at her family and smiles, a bit of tension in her shoulders easing as she makes eye contact with her father. His reassurance a balm to all of their kids, much like it always had been for Emily. 

“Thank you, Principal Shepard,” she says, her voice shaking slightly from the nerves. She looks down at her notes, the ones she’d banned her parents and siblings from looking at for weeks, claiming she wanted her speech to be a surprise. She blows out a steady breath and looks back up, “Fellow students, faculty and friends and family, it’s hard to believe this day has come.” 

Emily pays close attention as Hazel talks about her time at the school, about how she’d got lost on the first day, despite her older brother drawing her a map of the layout, only to find when she got home that she’d held it upside down all day. How she’d fallen in love with computer science there, the subject she planned to major in at college, and how she’d met friends she hopes she’ll know her whole life. Emily feels pride bubbling in her chest, threatening to completely overwhelm her. She blows out a shaky breath and feels Violet’s hand wrap around the one not being held by Aaron. She looks at her daughter and smiles, squeezing her hand when she sees the tears shining in her eyes, all of her previous bravado long gone as she watches the sister she’ll know she miss when she moves to college take this major step. 

“Lastly, I’d like to take a moment to thank my family,” Hazel says, and Emily stops breathing for a second, well aware that this would be her undoing. Aaron tenses next to her, his shoulders tight from how he was holding himself together. 

“Oh boy,” Lucas whispers, just loud enough for Emily to hear him, “Here we go.” 

“I want to thank my brothers and my sister for teaching me how to share,” Hazel says, once again letting her gaze drift towards her family, “And for also teaching me that you can love someone and still be incredibly annoyed at them,” she smiles when the crowd laughs, and Emily notices some people, parents she knows from other events, looking back and smiling at them, “I’d like to thank my dad for always being there. Not just for looking scary enough, as well as having an actually having scary job before he retired, so no one dared bully me in case I called him, but for being the dad everyone wishes they could have. There was never any nail polish too bright when I asked to paint your nails, or tiny teacup too small when we’d all gang up on you and beg you to play with us.”

He feels his throat threaten to close up, a familiar burning in the back of it as he tries to push the feeling away. Not wanting tears to blur his vision so he missed a single second of this. Emily squeezes his hand and he looks at her and sees that she’s fighting the same battle, her eyes starting to shine. 

“And lastly, I want to thank my mom,” Hazel says, clearing her throat when her voice cracks a little, “Not only is she the best mom anyone could ever ask for, she is, by far, the smartest person I know. I’m not sure many people know this, but my mom is a polyglot. She speaks so many languages she taught each of us a different one. She taught me French,” she looks at Emily in the crowd, and their dark eyes meet, and for a moment, Emily feels like she’s the only person Hazel is speaking to, “It was always one of my favourite things, it was as if we had a secret code between us. Stolen moments in the chaos of the home I feel lucky to have grown up in. So,” she says, clearing her throat again, a tear dropping onto her cheek, something she quickly wipes away as if it hadn’t happened, “Mom - Je vous aime. Tu es ma personne préférée. Quand je serai grand, je veux être comme toi,” Hazel looks back at the crowd as a whole and smiles, “Thank you.” 

Emily is grateful for the applause that follows because it gives her a moment to recover. She doesn’t bother covering the fact that she’s crying, because she knows it’s pointless. Tears burning down her cheeks as she stands and joins in on the applause. She looks at Aaron and sees he’s crying too, his pride evident. Shining out of his face like the sun, bright and warm as he carries on clapping a few beats longer than everyone else. Something that, she knows in any other circumstances, would make their children claim they are embarrassing. 

She hears a sniff from next to her and turns to look at her children, smiling softly when she sees they are all crying. Violet rests her head on Emily’s shoulder when they all sit back down and she wraps her arms both of her arms around Emily’s, her hands grasping at her tricep. 

“Voglio bene alla tua mamma,” she says quietly, just loud enough for Emily to hear over the murmuring crowd whilst the next speaker gets their speech ready. 

Emily smiles and rests her head on top of her daughters, “Ti amo anche io dolcezza.”

Jack leans in, making sure only his family can hear him, “I told you Hazel would cry first.” 

Lucas frowns, turning to look at his brother, “Wait, Haze never cries. How did you know?”

Jack smirks, looking very proud of himself, “She emailed me her speech weeks ago.” 

___

The summer goes by faster than it ever had before. 

Days and weeks melting away, slipping through Emily’s fingers until it's the night before they drive Hazel to college. Their car was packed full of her things ready for them to leave in the morning, the teenager determined to get to New York as soon as possible. 

She was only going to be a few hours away.

It was a mantra Emily had been telling herself, and one her daughter had said to her multiple times, ever since Hazel had been accepted into Columbia. It was closer than Jack had been during college, and she can’t help but hope that when it’s time the twins decide to stay nearby. 

She shakes the thought off, sure it would tip her over the edge if she thinks about that too much, and she blows out a steady breath. She stares at the bedroom door and twists her wedding rings around her finger as she goes over the list of things they bought for Hazel’s dorm room, mentally checking off if they were already in the car or in the pile of things her daughter had asked to have overnight. 

Aaron walks out of the ensuite and looks at his wife, stopping just short of the bed when he sees the faraway look in her eyes, how she’s twisting her rings around her finger, a habit he’s grateful replaced biting her cuticles long ago because he knows they’d be shredded by now if it hadn’t. 

They were all struggling with the thought of Hazel leaving, even the twins, although they were trying to act unaffected. It wasn’t any easier just because it was the second time they were doing this, and he was sure it wouldn’t get any easier the next time they did. He smiles as he watches her, the look in her eyes the same as it had been the first night they’d moved Hazel from a bassinet next to Emily’s side of the bed to her nursery. Her gaze sparkling with love and concern, the same concoction that had got them both through being a parent all these years. 

“Are you okay sweetheart?” 

Emily looks up at him and smiles absentmindedly, nodding as he climbs into bed next to her, her eyes drifting back to the door, “Do you think she's okay?” 

He sighs as he loops his arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his side. He kisses the side of her head, his soft smile pressed into her grey hair, “You asked the same thing the first night she slept in the nursery.” 

She chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her throat, “That doesn’t even feel that long ago,” she says, wiping her cheek with the heel of her hand as she leans into his side, more tears falling past her lash line, “How is she going to college tomorrow?” She asks rhetorically, shaking her head slightly before she sits up, her smile quivering as he wipes some tears away for her, “What if she needs me?” 

He leans in to stamp a kiss against her lips before he pulls back, his hand on her cheek, “She’s only going to be a few hours away,” he says, stroking her skin with his thumb, “And she can call whenever she needs to.” 

She nods, leaning into the warmth of his palm, “I know,” she says, blowing out a shaky breath, “I know,” she repeats as she clears her throat and laughs humourlessly, “I guess I’d better get used to them not needing us anymore.” 

He opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by a gentle knock on the door. He turns to look at it and calls out, “Come in.” 

The door opens slightly, just enough for Hazel to lean in a little, “You guys aren’t making out are you?”

Emily laughs as she shakes her head, wiping her cheeks, determined that Hazel wouldn’t see her upset, “No,” she says, furrowing her brow at her daughter as she opens the door the entire way and steps into the bedroom, “Why do you always ask that?”

Hazel hums and smiles, a half-hearted thing that makes concern spark in Emily’s chest, “I’ve been burned before.” 

She stands near the doorway, her usual confidence, that she’d been exuding during this whole process, nowhere to be found. Her shoulders were a little slumped, her eyes fixed on the floor, and her teeth sinking into her lower teeth. Emily looks down and her heart catches in her chest when she spots what Hazel is holding. Her favourite childhood toy, a stuffed cat she’d inexplicably called Biscuits when she was three, hanging from her hand. Biscuits had seen better days. His once plush grey fur patchy, and his whiskers long gone. When Hazel turned 14 she’d declared she was too old for stuffed animals, asking that they be put in the attic, but Biscuits had survived the cut. His place on her bed never at risk. She liked to pretend it wasn’t because she needed him to sleep even now, as if her parents hadn’t recently caught her fast asleep with him in her arms when they checked in on her when she had the flu. 

For a moment, an all too fleeting one, Hazel is five again. Standing in the doorway with her hair a mess and her pyjamas askew, tears on her cheeks as she cried about a nightmare. It makes Emily ache, her gut twisting with emotions she can’t name, and she sits up, removing herself from Aaron’s embrace.

“Are you okay, Haze?” Emily asks, “Do you need anything?” 

The teenager shakes her head, shifting from foot to foot as she tries to figure out what to say, “No I…I don’t know,” she says, blowing out a breath as she shrugs, “I can’t sleep.” 

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Aaron says, “It’s probably the excitement.” 

Hazel nods, holding Biscuits to her chest as she hugs him so tightly, Emily is sure if his eyes were real, not sewn on, they’d be bulging out of his head, “Yeah…excitement,” she says, swallowing thickly. She sighs and walks over to sit on the edge of her parent's bed, “What if I’m not good enough?” 

Emily reaches out and places her hand on her daughter’s leg, squeezing tightly, “Honey, you were top of your high school class, you got accepted to all of the colleges you applied to,” She smiles when she sees a flicker of a smile on Hazel’s face, “You’re more than good enough. You’re excellent.” 

She nods again and clears her throat, “What if I don’t make any friends?” 

Aaron exchanges a quick glance with his wife before smiling encouragingly at his daughter, “You make friends everywhere you go, Princess,” he says, using the nickname he hadn’t used since she was small, “Just like your mom.”

Hazel shrugs noncommittally, “But what if-”

“Baby,” Emily says, cutting her off, reaching out and tucking some of Hazel’s dark hair behind her ear, “Is it possible you’re just coming up with these things because you’re nervous and you don’t want to admit it?” 

She chuckles and shakes her head, “Profilers,” she smiles at them, biting the inside of her cheek to try and stop it from growing, “You know, my friend's parents had normal jobs.” 

Aaron chuckles, “So you’ve said before,” he says, watching as she holds the stuffed cat in her arms a little tighter, “Everything will be okay you know,” he adds, “It’s perfectly normal to be nervous.”

Hazel huffs out a breath and shifts closer to them, sitting between them on the bed, her back against the headboard as she looks back and forth between them. 

“But what if I hate it,” she asks, her voice starting to sound thick, her lower lip shaking slightly as she starts to get overwhelmed, “It’s so far away and you guys won’t be there and-”

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” Emily says, wrapping her arm around her. Hazel leans into her, resting her head on her shoulder and sighing. Emily looks at Aaron and they exchange a sad smile, “It’s not that far away,” she says, her fingers running through Hazel’s hair as she repeats what she’d been saying to them for weeks, “And if you ever need anything at all, you know we’ll drop everything.”

Hazel nods, sniffing as she shifts to look at her mother, tears spilling past her lashline, “Can I…can I sleep in here?” She asks, almost sounding embarrassed.

Emily looks over her head to Aaron and she sees the same joy in his eyes that she feels. The same small sense of wonder at a question they hadn’t heard in years.

“Of course you can,” Emily replies, kissing Hazel’s forehead and pulling her in for a hug, “You never have to ask.” Hazel turns to look at Aaron, as if looking for confirmation and he nods, making her smile widely at him, a brief memory of her doing the same when she was little, gaps in her teeth and braids in her hair, and it makes him breathless. 

“Thanks,” Hazel says quietly, her cheeks flushing slightly as they all lay down and Aaron turns out the light. Hazel rests her head on Emily’s shoulder, tucking herself against her like she’d done when she was young. “I love you guys.” 

Emily feels her breath catch in her chest, and she feels Aaron reach out for her hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing tightly. She looks at him in the dark of the room and smiles, clearing her throat before she replies.

“We love you too, sweetie.” 

Dropping her off the next day is every part as difficult as they expect it to be. Their hearts in their throats as they help her set up her dorm room and inevitably say goodbye, their hugs lingering a little longer than usual, her grip on their shirts a little tighter. 

Emily is proud of herself for holding it together until they get into their car, a sob escaping her the moment the door is closed. Aaron immediately wraps his arms around her, the embrace awkward over the centre console, and when they pull back, there are tears on his cheeks too. She wipes them away for him and tries to swallow down her sadness, desperately trying to feel the pride that was lingering underneath, aware that if she couldn’t find it soon she’d go back into the dorms and get her little girl. 

“She’ll be okay,” Emily says, wiping another tear that escapes away for him.

“I know,” he replies, leaning in to kiss her, the taste of salt on both of their lips, “She’s half you, of course she’ll be okay.” 

She smiles and stamps a kiss against his lips before pulling back, and putting on her seatbelt, “She’s half you too,” she replies, sinking into her seat as he turns on the engine, “She’ll be fine.” 

She hears her phone chirp from her pocket and she pulls it out, smiling when she sees Hazel has sent her a text. She chuckles as she opens it, her vision going blurry as she turns the phone to show it to Aaron. He smiles too and reaches out, squeezing her hand before he takes the car out of park.

“Let’s go home. I’m sure we can convince Luke and Vi to hang out with us tonight if we bribe them with pizza,” he says, and she nods, looking back at the screen of her phone as the car moves away, her eyes lingering on a picture of Buscuits on Hazel’s dorm room bed and the accompanying message. 

Miss you already <3 

___

13 Years Previously 

Emily wakes up with a groan, the relative darkness of the bedroom letting her know it was still the middle of the night. She’s just about to roll over, to snuggle into her husband’s embrace, his arm lying over her waist, when she hears a small, quiet voice. 

“Mommy?” 

She opens her eyes again and sees Hazel standing at the end of her bed, Biscuits cuddled up in her arms, and tears on her cheeks shining in the low light of the room. 

“Hi sweet girl,” Emily says, sitting up just enough to see her a little better, “Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?” 

Hazel sniffs and nods, “I had a bad dream.” 

“Oh, baby, come here,” Emily says, throwing back the covers and smiling softly as Hazel immediately climbs under them, snuggling into Emily’s embrace, her face pressed against her chest, “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

“I tried to be brave,” Hazel says, “I’m not a baby anymore, but I was scared.” 

Emily hides her smile into the top of Hazel’s hair, the little girl's insistence that she wasn’t a baby anymore something that had taken hold as soon as the twins had been born almost a year ago. She briefly looks at the baby monitor on her nightstand, reaching out to activate the screen for a moment so she can see the video feeds, smiling at the sight of Violet and Lucas fast asleep in their cribs. 

“Well that’s what I’m here for,” she says, adjusting them so they were laying on their sides, Hazel safely cocooned between her and Aaron, “Anytime you don’t feel brave, I’m here.” 

Hazel frowns, looking so much like Aaron that it makes Emily smile, “But I’m a big girl.” 

“I know you are,” Emily replies, still running her fingers through Hazel’s hair, “But, I’m a big girl too right?” She asks, pausing to feel her daughter nod against her, “Well, I’m not brave all the time.”

“Really?” Hazel asks, tilting her head to look up at Emily, their eyes meeting in the low light. 

“Really,” she confirms, “And then Daddy looks after me, and I do the same for him when he’s not feeling brave.”

Hazel looks curious for a moment, but nods, accepting Emily’s explanation, resting her head back against her chest, “Can I sleep here?” 

Emily holds her closer, smiling as Hazel settles in, clearly already halfway to being asleep, and runs her hand up and down her back, “Of course, baby,” she says, kissing the top of her head, “Always.” 

“Je t'aime maman,” Hazel mutters, her words slurring together, and Emily closes her eyes, pushing back tears only her children managed to bring out of her so easily.

“Je t'aime aussi mon coeur,” she whispers, aware that the little girl was likely already sleeping. 

“Is she okay?” 

Emily smiles at the sound of her husband's voice, thick with sleep and misuse, “Yeah, she’s okay,” she replies, yawning as Aaron wraps his arm around them both, “She’s fine now.” 

“Of course, she is sweetheart,” Aaron says, his words slurring together in a way that makes her question if he would even remember having been awake in the morning, “She has you as a mom.” 

The praise makes her beam, her heart as warm and full as their bed currently was, and she lets herself naively hope that everything stays like this forever. 

-x-

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[why-do-we-do-this]

On day eight, Cellbit wakes up with one thought in mind:

I’m not going to let my husband die.

He turns on his team earpiece and pulls his communicator out, instantly beginning to send messages and trying to organize the chaos. It’s what he does best.

By the time the responses come, mixtures of “We’re trying but we just aren’t strong enough”, “Everyone has given up already”, “we don’t have the materials”, “I think it’s already over”, Cellbit much too soon feels the telltale thickening of the archipelago’s air that will soon suffocate them all into unconsciousness once again. They are running out of time, but too much is at stake to lose. He doesn’t want to think about what happens if they lose. They can’t lose-

Movement in the distance.

Cellbit whips around to focus in on it, trying to spot the enemy before it spots him. He zeroes in on a figure on the horizon and strains to identity them against the setting sun, familiar stripes on an unfamiliar jacket, unfamiliar frown on a familiar face.

Roier.

Cellbit sprints towards his husband, shouting well before the other can even hear him. Begging him to tell him what green team needs to survive, ignoring the way his always beautiful features dip heavily into exhaustion, pretending his own aren’t just as heavy and leaden. If he gets this right they can talk later. If he gets this right, he can pull his husband close and try his best to kiss away all of the bad things.

If he gets this wrong-

He takes off running into the night’s cold desert sands again as soon as Roier gives him the word, yelling into his earpiece, no time for mincing words or pleasantries. There is roughly five minutes left. They can do it if they all just try. There’s no time to waste.

Cellbit doesn’t even check to see where the rabbit leather has settled in his inventory, there’s no time to. He can’t think of anything else as he beelines back to global with the ticking of the clock pressing into his senses and stabbing at his brain. There’s no time.

It’s not enough. Of course it’s not enough. Nothing is simple or slow or easy in this damned island. It’s horrifying to Cellbit that he almost misses Isla Quesadilla, but he supposes the bar is low.

At least on Isla Quesadilla he didn’t have to feel the last grains of his husband’s life sliding through his fingers like sand. He didn’t have to watch him tumble down the bottleneck of an hourglass and into the nothingness awaiting just below.

Cellbit rips his earpiece out, uncaring and desperate as he draws his sword and blurts in a hasty mash of languages, “Let’s kill one of them, fuck it! Come on, let’s go- out in front!” And he doesn’t check to see if Roier is behind him, there’s no time. Cellbit gets his sword through Pierre and is locking blades with Bad when he sees his husband collapse into the sand. There’s no time.

“No fucking way!” He feels the air pulling away from his brain as he desperately runs to his husband’s side. And he only just makes it, Bad’s blade at his heels, before his vision fades away. He barely feels the material of Roier’s hoodie against his scarred and bloodied arms and fingers when he reaches out blindly, and the only thought tearing through his mind as he weakly pulls the other man closer is that he’d failed him. There was no time.

His husband is dead- or whatever twisted approximation of death this place brings- and Cellbit could not save him.

His mind begins to drift, losing the rest of his senses to the void in the emptiness of unconsciousness and the ravenous hollows of newly forming grief and despair. He thinks that maybe he’s crying, but he can’t know now, as the feeling fades from his skin, and he honestly doesn’t fucking care. His husband has been ripped from his arms like everything else good in his life ever has been, and the realization that Cellbit has not only lost his husband, but his sister and two co-parents as well, twists his grief into a blistering, raging inferno of anger.

Roier is dead, and he could not save him. He couldn’t save anyone.

Cellbit has nothing left.

[dapperbasil]

OC Kiss Week: Day 3

Portland, Oregon. August 17, 2003.

At the end of an exhausting weekend tending to visiting elders, Sigrun offers a place to rest to Tammy for the day.

Filling in the blanks for an actual event that happened in game, Sigrun belongs to @prettycatgirlwinter.

The weekend of work was coming to a close and everyone was exhausted as the plane lifted into the sky and the scramble began to get home before the sun came up. As expected of the meticulous ghoul, Sigrun drove carefully but with purpose. In her passenger seat sat the red haired woman she’d been working with all weekend, the Ventrue fledgling Tammy King. Tammy was silent, clearly drained from the nights of being the personal assistant and unwilling babysitter to an elder. Though they had been working together on the same assignment, there hadn’t been much time to talk with the girl, and Sigrun had a feeling there wouldn’t be much more after this. Still, she had offered her home to Tammy, a place to sleep during the day much closer than her own.

Sigrun wasn’t sure what to make of the new Ventrue in town, she was far different from the others of her clan that stayed in Portland or that Mr. Roche worked with. She couldn’t be sure if it was due to her being that much younger than them, or something else about Tammy that drew Sigrun to her. Maybe it was that she was something new and exciting, a change to the same old same old of the last few years. Perhaps it was that unlike relationships with kine it was something that could possibly last, with someone who understood what it was like to potentially live forever. Or maybe it was just that she was a cute redhead that was utterly incompetent in the most adorable way, a far cry from what she had been taught Ventrue were supposed to be.

As the drive neared its end, Sigrun stole a glance over at Tammy. She had done considerably well with the assignment given to them this weekend, even earning Barbarossa’s approval over time. She had come a long way from the girl fumbling to put together her gun when they first met, despite kindred being in a state of eternal stagnation she was making strides towards bettering herself. So different from Sigrun, having stayed mostly the same the past thirty odd years. Putting the car into park, she wondered for a split second how long that would last. She had been content before now, but working on more important assignments like this one made her wonder if Roche had something in mind.

“We're here, Tammy.” The Ventrue snapped to attention almost immediately as if she hadn't been staring aimlessly out the window like a puppy tired out from playing at the park. Grabbing her bag as the two stepped out of the car, Sigrun let herself and Tammy inside as the precious minutes before the night ended ticked away. Sigrun led Tammy into the haven, to which she noticed a smile on her face as she took in the sight of the humble home. “I am afraid I don't have a guest room…” Sigrun began, before being cut off by the first time she had heard Tammy speak since she extended the offer of shelter.

“I am more than comfortable on a couch, Sigrun. You're already so kind, I couldn't ask for anything more.” She noticed Tammy glance around, before sheepishly scratching her head. “Except maybe a way to block out those windows.” Ah. Yes, of course. Tammy was a Kindred, Sigrun had almost forgotten that would be an issue. Well, much less of one if Tammy was amenable to the solution that came to the ghoul’s mind.

Sigrun shook her head, a determined pout on her face. “I can't have a guest sleeping on the couch, that would be rude of me. My bed can hold two, you can sleep with me.” Grasping Tammy by the hand before she could argue, Sigrun led her towards her bedroom as Tammy followed obediently with a shocked expression on her face. “Though I don't know much about how you sleep, if you wish to change out of your suit there's a bathroom on the left.”

“Okay. Thank you, Sigrun. I’ll do that then, if that's alright.” The platinum blonde ghoul gave a nod, watching Tammy take her bag with her into the bathroom before going and putting away her weapons and supplies she had brought on security detail. She could have managed it within moments, given her expertise, but she wanted to give Tammy time to settle in for the day. Sigrun wasn't sure how long it would take, but after checking and double-checking her weapons were stored properly she returned to the room to find Tammy already curled up on the edge of the bed under the blankets.

She looked to Sigrun as if she were asleep, though of course there were no signs of breathing and she was motionless. Having missed her chance, Sigrun watched Tammy for a few moments before getting ready to sleep herself. A last moment thought to check her phone showed a message for a meeting at seven the next night. “Suppose I won't be here when she wakes up then.” The words are whispered as she silences the device and slides into bed beside the Ventrue. 

Despite her body being cold and the bed having gone untouched for days, it felt warm laying next to Tammy. Her long red hair lay in curls around her face, and looked so peaceful to Sigrun. Did kindred dream? She couldn't tell as she took in the sight of the young Ventrue next to her. Leaning in and leaving a soft kiss on Tammy's cheek, Sigrun pulled her closer to her on the bed, Tammy not stirring in the slightest. As the blackout curtains kept the rising sun at bay, Sigrun wondered just how much longer she would have with Tammy as she fell into a deep, restful sleep.

[psychologeek]

Prompt 04.01.24 - Friendship (isn't magic, it's hard bitter work)

You know what I want to see?

I want to see Ra's Al-Ghul and Magneto friendship.

I want to see those men who saw too much and lived through the the losses of everyone (over and over again) interact.

I want to see Ra's who's tired of humankind and just all of this (*point out at the world*) that he's also stopped trying to change anything. Sort of "let them burn the world. I've seen it happen and I'll see it again" kind of tired. Ra's who's not an "evil for evil single minded terrorist" but a person who got tired of the world and humans and his main goal is to either keep all the knowledge (my hc) or try to prevent humans from destroying everything on this globe (he unfortunately has to share with them) and has a secret place for animals considered extinct.

Give me a Magneto who's lost and tired and abandoned hopes from humanity. Give me a Magneto who's rightfully disgusted from everything humans did and do and continue to come up with. Give me a Magneto that's only going through bc of spite and the desperate need to create a safer place for the next generation.

Give me a Magneto that every once in a while will go to visit the strange old man he met when he was younger, and spend days just. Finally screaming and being able to get some empathy from someone that also look at the world and goes "yup. It's crap."

Give me Ras that hoards knowledge like a dragon letting Magneto read one of the original writings of the Rambam (Maimonides). Or Ra's keeping some of the missing pieces of Keter Aram Tzova (the oldest Torah) And Magneto crying, because

(It's old, and part of his culture, and it survived. Through the fire and being burned down and half lost, it made it through.)

Give me a Magneto showing up at Nanda Parvat at 3am in the pouring rain and 3 kids with him, just like "hi, I thought you might have a place for them? It's not safe."

(one of them is visibly different. Very different. Like, Kurt or Hunk or Angel different. One is a baby, just gives the worst vibe, feels OFF (Eldritch way). The third is fully covered, and as Ra's give her his hand, she flinches.

"it's not safe," she cries with eyes wide with horror. "Don't touch me! I make people die!"

Ra's just shrugs.

"Good thing our pool can fix it."

She just blinks, and he turns around, telling them to enter and close the god damn door behind, "there's a drift!"

And he tell one of the servents to get dry clothes and make hot Sachlav for his guests.

Just... give a Ra's and Magneto friendship. Not romantic. Just two frustrated men, tired of this world, that keep an unlikely friendship despite all of their differences.

(Give me Ra's, still sitting by the chessboard they played, offering Erik to stay.

"You know why I can't," the younger smiles sadly.

"I'll keep asking," the old man warns. "It would be such a waste to lose you."

And the young man's eyes narrows, funding and sad. "I won't tell you to stop."

Give me a Ra's, seeing the young turn into old. Slowly watches as hair turns grey and face slightly change and trying not to think of the ticking clock.

"I could make you young again," he suggests, almost begging. "I could make live forever!"

The younger man put his Tea down.

"why the HELL would I want that!?"

Ra's freeze.

"The child I was died there, with my parents. The man I was died with Magda and our child. I watched my world burn, over and over again, leaving me in the ashes."

"I lived with the death for as long as I can remember," there's a distance look in his eyes. "Why would I see it as anything but an old friend?"

Just

Give me Ra's and Magneto friendship, with many arguments and countless disagreements and completely opposite opinions on many things, but they are still friends.

(+Bonus points if there's no white washing or Christening

++ If they have terrible arguments BUT THEY TALK ABOUT IT and still stay friends (/at least communicating)

+++ if they can live with "our opinions our differents"

++++ if they can put disagreements aside to co-op for important things.)

Just

Give me friendship and communication. Despite and through it all.

Thank you

[quil12]

Souyo+ getting engaged ? :)

!!!

I've had an idea for this exact thing for a while now, so thank you for giving me an excuse to write it!

Yu stared intently at the laptop sitting on the coffee table in front of him, watching as the numbers ticked up. Yosuke was sitting beside him, also watching the laptop, his arms wrapped tightly around him. 

They were currently counting ballots. Ballots containing a bill to legalize same-sex marriage in Japan. With the way that it was looking, it seemed like there was a good chance that it might actually happen. It was currently sitting at 64% yes with about two thirds of all of the votes counted. 

They had been sitting like that for a while, neither of them really moving or talking, just watching as the numbers changed. 

This was something that had the possibility to change their whole future. They had been dating for so long, but it had gotten to the point where Yu had accepted that they were never going to get married. 

They already lived together. They shared all their living expenses. They spent every day with each other. They loved one another.

The only things that would really change would be how they presented themselves on official documents or how they could have the same last name or how there might be more of a public acceptance for them to go on dates or talk about each other.

As it stood now, none of their friends or family even knew that they were a couple. They might have suspected it to some degree with how long they had been living together, but no one had ever confronted them on it.

He wanted this so bad.

They kept watching the results. Yu only got more and more optimistic as time went on. The numbers only kept rising.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the numbers switched to ‘99% reporting’ with a 68% approval. 

It was legal.

They could get married.

Tears started to drip down his cheeks as Yosuke let out an excited cheer, pulling him into a tight hug. 

He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t even know what to do with himself. 

“Hold on, I have to go get something,” Yosuke said, moving to stand.

Yu watched him as he walked down the hallway to their bedroom. He couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips as he watched him. They could get married. 

A few seconds later, Yosuke walked back out into the living room, holding something in his hand.

“Come here,” Yosuke said.

Yu stood up, walking over to where he was standing.

“I know this isn’t the most picturesque place to do this or anything, but I want to ask you as soon as possible.”

He brought up what he was holding - it was a ring box. His breath caught in his throat as he knelt down in front of him, opening the box, revealing a silver ring inside.

“Yu Narukami, will you marry me?”

He only started crying harder at those words, but he nodded profusely, managing to get out a shaky, “Yes.”

Yosuke smiled widely at him as he stood up, taking the ring out of the box, and grabbing his hand, sliding it onto his left ring finger. 

“I wasn’t sure whether to go with silver or gold, but I thought that silver would look bet-”

Yu cut him off by pulling him into a tight hug, basically slamming into him with how much force he put into it. 

Yosuke immediately started hugging him back, beginning to gently run his fingers through his hair. They stayed like that for a while until Yu pulled away, still keeping a grip on him.

“I love you,” Yosuke said.

“I love you too.”

Yosuke leaned forward, pressing a series of soft kisses against his lips. Yu closed his eyes, just enjoying the feeling. 

Yosuke pulled away, “Oh, and look at the inside of the ring.”

Yu furrowed his brow, but slid the ring off his finger - it fit surprisingly well. He held it up, immediately finding an engraving on the inside. Just the word ‘Partner’. 

He almost started crying again, but kept the tears down. 

“This isn’t a dream, right?”

“Nope. It’s totally real. You’re about to be stuck with me forever.”

“Good.”

At that, Yosuke pulled out his phone, wrapping his arm around Yu’s shoulder, “I want to get a picture.”

Yu nodded, sliding the ring back onto his finger. Yosuke grabbed his hand, holding onto it as he presented it to the camera. He took several pictures before deciding that one of them was okay. 

He led him over to the couch, sitting down. Yu leaned heavily against his side as he did something on his phone.

“Is it all right if I post that?”

“That’s fine.”

Yosuke smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

After another minute, he was done, posting the picture for everyone to see. He had captioned it with the phrase “We’re getting married”. In the picture, there were still tears running down his face as Yosuke beamed at the camera beside him.

He wasn’t sure how everyone was going to react to the news, but he hoped that it would be well.

“So,” Yosuke said, “We have something really important to discuss now.”

“What’s that?”

“Who’s changing their last name?”

Yu smiled. He liked the idea of that discussion. 

[consoledacup]

604 Jordayla thoughts? Together and individually

Didn't like that Jordan was a belligerent drunk. He was funny, but he was also pretty cutting and rude and confrontational. Glad he tried to get Spencer home safe and promised Layla. But dude was kind of a jerk and probably shouldn't get drunk if he's gonna act like that.

But man did I love all of his scenes with Spencer, jerk or not. It's a conversation they had to have, and they held nothing back. Do you see Jordan almost feeling guilty for being in talks for the Heisman? Thank goodness for Olivia cheering him on. Because he was borderline apologetic with Spencer, and really, he doesn't need to be. I also liked that he immediately removed himself from any sort of approval of Wade signing with Coastal.

Thought his scenes with Olivia were really sweet, and I loved that reminiscing about his dad spurred him on to make things right with Layla. It's kind of weird that Jordan felt like his dad was proud of him for clotheslining a kid, but that's not surprising to me. It's not surprising that Billy would've chastised him and yet still been secretly proud. And that Jordan maybe would've held onto that. Interesting that that memory was in an episode where he found himself in another fight. Although luckily Jordan was kept out of a physical altercation.

Ok check out the previous ask where Anon brought up some fantastic points and observations about Layla. Cosign on all of it.

Layla is not okay. She cried after seeing a dog wagging its tail??? Look, I can, and do, cry at anything. I cry all the time. But for someone who has tampered down her emotions for years, there's a hell of a lot feelings for her to sift through. Even her back and forth with Patience about Jordan and how she feels... All of what she's experiencing is manageable. But what happens when it's not a dog wagging its tail?? What happens when it's not just tension with Jordan?

She's a ticking time bomb. She still hasn't mentioned talking with her doctor about it, so I can't assume one way or the other. But my guess is she's weaning off the medication on her own. And she still hasn't told Jordan. And if all of that isn't enough, she flat out told him she'll never let anything come between them again. Clear foreshadow with crimson underline.

I loved all their scenes together. They're so funny, and the fights were entertaining. Were they fruitful? No. But I'm really glad they made up and those scenes were super hot. It's interesting that Jordan quoted his dad with, "Be at where your feet at." Because that's essentially what he tells Layla about his obsession with wedding planning.

All of that is great. They love each other. They both took accountability for their tension. However, Layla has got to let him in about her depression and recent decisions, or things are going to come crumbling down. I think she thinks she's protecting him by keeping in the dark and doing it out of love. But that's really going to come back and bite them both.