#I know it's been hard for me to manage migraines and such (though it's getting easier or I'm just in a good proud period)

[stardustedknuckles]

It's been so long since I've had to exist within a group of people consistently over many days and damn, I nearly forgot I was autistic. I found out yesterday that though I get along with almost everyone at work, most of my coworkers thought I was a huge bitch who hated everyone for a little bit (and one still does, which is how this whole thing came up at all). I was bewildered like. No I'm very often dizzy or in a bit of pain and I'm very focused on taking care of the dogs but I'm not - I don't dislike any of you? I've never been mad at you, you guys thought I was mad?? Just an alarming disconnect between the way I see myself and the way I come off to others. I have never once gotten the hang of behaving like a regular person, but it appears that time has taken me from "generally silly person with an offbeat sense of humor who doesn't take things seriously" to "stoic hardass who doesn't like you and thinks you're stupid also." I did not authorize this change. It's throwing me for a loop. I feel like I'm 6 again being told to stop talking over people's heads because I just learned a new big word and I wanted to use and share it. I like assholes with a heart of gold in media. I don't want to be one??

[kaleidoscopecth]

Something for the Pain

MDNI

pairing: luke hemmings x reader

summary: a splitting headache has you looking for something, anything, to stop the pain. luckily for you, luke is always willing to help.

warnings: oral (f receiving), dirty talk, subby luke, mommy kink, desperate and needy luke, happy ending massage (?)

word count: 5.4k

title: starting line by luke hemmings

a/n: happy new year pookies! i honestly can’t begin to describe how thankful i am for all of the support my writing has received since i started posting on here. hopefully i can get more blurbs out— and soon, that calum fic. anyway, this was a request, but i took some liberties since i wasn’t super excited to write period sex (don’t think i ever will ngl) but i still hope u enjoy!!

as always, thank u for reading and to my two friends who helped me come up w the plot for this. you know who you are ;)

Copyright © 2025 kaleidoscopecth. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Every breath you took, every blink, sent a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through your skull. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it started. Maybe it was during the final descent, the plane’s cabin pressure clawing at your temples. Or maybe it was the hours leading up to it—the sleepless night, the lack of water, or the mounting exhaustion of the journey.

By the time you stepped off the plane with your friends, the faint pulse of a headache had already begun to bloom behind your eyes. But what started as a dull ache soon unraveled into an all-encompassing, throbbing migraine.

Now, you sat slumped in the bed of your hotel room, blinds drawn tight against the snowy glare outside. Your eyes remained shut as you wrestled with the unrelenting pain, trying to block out the world beyond the pounding in your head.

It was Calum’s birthday trip. This whole escapade had been meticulously planned by an overly eager Ashton and Luke, who’d insisted on the novelty of a winter getaway. You and Michael had been swept along in their enthusiasm, though neither of you had much interest in winter sports.

“Ashton thinks Calum needs a change,” Luke had reasoned during the endless group chat debates. “He’s always had summer birthdays. Let’s give him a proper winter wonderland for once.���

It wasn’t exactly a bad idea—on paper, at least. But the journey to the hotel had been its own kind of trial. Fans swarmed the boys at the terminal, their excitement only amplified by the festive mood. Luke and Ashton handled the crowd with ease, chatting and signing autographs, while Michael managed a few tired smiles. You, however, could barely keep your grimace at bay as each flash of a camera sent fresh jolts of pain behind your eyes.

You worried that your mood might be misinterpreted. The last thing you needed was people twisting your obvious discomfort into something malicious, another rumor or misstep in the public eye. But for now, none of that mattered. All you wanted was a moment of quiet to try and claw your way back to some ounce of normalcy.

You fell back on your bed, forcing your mind to think of ways to ease the pain. You had already tried some ibuprofen, but your mind failed to come up with more alternatives.

Luke had noticed something was wrong, he always noticed when something was wrong. His eyes would get all worried, glazed over with anxiety as he tried to figure out why you were in such a foul mood. He was always so attentive when it came to you, so sweet.

You met the band when they signed your shoegaze group to their record label. Although the deal didn’t last, the friendship that came out of it certainly did. You played bass—a fact that, for some reason, seemed to strike a chord with Luke from the start.

What followed was an unusual friendship. Luke gravitated toward you in a way that was hard to ignore, and you were more than sure he had a crush on you. Subtlety was never his strong suit, after all.

It started small—just little frowns tugging at his pink lips whenever someone mentioned another guy’s name or the lingering glances he’d send your way. But slowly, it escalated. The frowns turned into sharp quips about their character, jokes veiled as casual observations about how no one seemed good enough for you.

Then came the parade of girls—each one with the same eye color, the same hair, the same biting wit. They never stayed long, thankfully. Still, it felt ridiculous to think Luke Hemmings, of all people, might actually want you—a shy bassist in a band still struggling to take off. And yet, the thought burrowed into your mind like an itch you couldn’t scratch, always there, always nagging.

When it was just the two of you, it was different. Luke seemed mesmerized by you, his eyes tracing the movements of your fingers over your bass strings, hanging onto your words like they were rare treasures. It was flattering. It was terrifying.

He’d tried to follow you to your room earlier offering to keep you company. But the thought of him seeing you so raw, so vulnerable, was unbearable. You forced a fake smile, brushed aside the dull ache in your chest, and politely declined.

It wasn’t ideal, not by any stretch. You craved company—craved him—but the weight of your misery felt too heavy to share.

So, you decided to lie down, all the blinds drawn shut, and hope���pray—for the ibuprofen to finally kick in. Sooner or later, you were certain, the pain would ease. In the meantime, you busied yourself by mentally planning your outfit for the birthday dinner you still hoped to attend.

You weren’t exactly sure how much time had passed since you first collapsed onto the hotel bed, but the knock at the door shattered the fragile quiet. Squeezing your eyes shut, you willed yourself to ignore it, hoping whoever it was would go away.

But the knock came again, louder this time, insistent.

Your eyes snapped open, staring at the darkened ceiling as another knock echoed through the room. “Y/N?” Luke’s voice cut through the quiet, sharp and clear, sending a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through your skull. Wincing, you pushed yourself upright in bed.

“What do you want?” you called out, not bothering to mask the irritation in your tone. Luke was a puppy—probably the kindest, most caring person you’d ever met. Even if your annoyance slipped through now, he’d likely shrug it off, understanding the circumstances later.

But instead of his usual easy response, silence followed. A beat passed, long enough for a twinge of guilt to creep in. Regret began clouding your thoughts as you replayed what you’d said, wondering if you’d gone too far.

“Are you okay?” Luke’s voice finally broke the stillness, softer now, almost cautious. You could picture him perfectly: standing just outside the door, biting the corner of his lip where a lip ring once sat, waiting in tentative silence.

With a defeated sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and padded softly to the door. Cracking it open with caution, you winced as the bright hallway light pierced through the darkness of the room, intensifying the ache in your head.

Luke’s eyebrows shot up the moment he saw your expression, concern etched into his features. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes darting across your face, searching for any clues that might explain your obvious discomfort.

You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the doorframe. “I have a headache from hell,” you muttered, rubbing at one eye with your knuckle.

“Damn,” Luke murmured, his voice low with sympathy. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

Pushing off the doorframe, you shuffled back to the bed and collapsed face-first onto the mattress. The sudden movement made the throbbing in your skull even worse. You heard Luke’s footsteps draw closer, then felt the bed dip as he laid down beside you.

Slowly, you turned your head to look at him. His wide blue eyes were full of concern, his blonde curls falling messily against the bedspread. Up close, you could see the faint stubble dusting his jaw and cheeks, and your fingers itched with the impulse to reach out feel it beneath your fingertips.

“Since we got to the airport,” you admitted. “It’s been getting worse all day. By the time we got here, I was barely able to stand.”

Luke let out a quiet huff through his nose, his fingers tapping absentmindedly on the mattress. “What about tonight?” he asked gently. “Do you think you’ll be able to make it?”

You let out a bitter laugh, immediately regretting it as another sharp ripple of pain shot through your skull. “Thank God Calum’s birthday isn’t today, because at this point, I don’t even know if I’d make it.”

Luke’s lips twisted into a concerned frown. “Have you tried anything to make it go away?”

“Luke, do you really think I’m choosing to suffer like this?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “I took some ibuprofen earlier, but it didn’t help much. I’ve been wracking my brain for home remedies, but nothing’s working.”

Luke hummed thoughtfully. “I heard drinking water can help,” he suggested, a hint of optimism in his tone. “Or maybe a massage? I think I even read somewhere that eating almonds helps.”

You let out an irritated breath and shifted onto your side, pillowing your head on your arm. For a brief moment, you thought you caught Luke’s eyes flick down to your chest, slightly more on display from your position, but the glance was so quick you couldn’t be certain.

“I’ve been drinking water,” you mumbled dejectedly. “Hate almonds. But a massage sounds… nice. Don’t really feel like hunting down spa services, though.”

Luke was quiet for a moment, staring down at the mattress. He shifted slightly before mumbling something, his voice too low for you to catch.

You raised an eyebrow. “Lu, I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”

He let out a loud huff and repeated himself, this time louder but still hesitant. “I said… I could give you the massage.” His voice wavered slightly, and he avoided meeting your gaze.

His offer caught you off guard. For a few beats, you just stared at him, unsure if he was serious. But with your head pounding relentlessly, you couldn’t see any reason to refuse. “Alright,” you finally said, clearing your throat. “There’s lotion in my carry-on bag. Go grab it.”

Luke’s eyes widened a fraction, but he nodded quickly and scrambled off the bed in a flurry of gangly limbs. He switched on the lamp by the bedside table—thankfully not too bright—and rummaged through your bag with fumbling hands. After a few failed attempts, he finally pulled out the bottle of lotion. “Got it!” he announced, a triumphant grin tugging at his lips.

“Good.” You sat up in the bed and shot him a pointed look. “Now turn around.”

Luke blinked, his grin faltering. “Why?”

You motioned toward the lotion in his hand. “Because I’m taking my shirt off?”

His cheeks flushed a vivid pink, and his mouth fell open slightly in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me,” you said, raising an eyebrow as you caught the sudden flustered state Luke had taken on. “Did you really think a massage would work if I kept my shirt on?”

Luke swallowed hard, shaking his head. “N-no,” he stammered. “I guess not.” His hand shot up to scratch the back of his neck, the flush spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

“Good,” you replied with a small, teasing smile, rolling your eyes. “Unless that’s an issue for you?”

His eyes widened as if you’d accused him of something. “No!” he blurted, then winced at how loud he sounded. “I mean… no, it’s not a problem.”

You bit back a laugh, too entertained by how flustered he was, and motioned for him to turn around. With a sheepish nod, Luke spun on his heel, facing the wall. Once he was out of sight, you pulled the hem of your shirt up and over your head before lying back down on your stomach.

“Alright,” you called softly, glancing over your shoulder. “Come on.”

Luke turned back around hesitantly, his gaze flickering between your face and the bed as he stepped closer. His cheeks were still rosy, but he managed to set the lotion bottle down on the nightstand without fumbling.

“Where should I start?” he asked, his voice quieter now. His eyes lingered for a moment on the strap of your bra before darting away, and you appreciated the fact that he seemed to be making an effort to remain respectful.

You shrugged slightly, resting your head on your arms. “You’re the one who suggested this, remember? Maybe my shoulders? Anywhere that might distract me from the headache.”

Luke nodded, though you could see the tension in his jaw as he picked up the lotion and squirted some into his hands. You closed your eyes, feeling the shift of the bed as he knelt beside you.

When his fingers finally touched your skin, they were tentative, almost featherlight. You suppressed a shiver at the warmth of his hands but couldn’t help the small hum of appreciation that escaped your lips.

“You can press harder,” you murmured, opening one eye to glance back at him.

Luke met your gaze, and the sight of him made your breath hitch. His cheeks were still flushed, his mouth slightly parted, and his baby-blue eyes had taken on a darker, more intense hue. “Okay,” he said softly, his voice nearly a whisper, as his fingers pressed more firmly into the muscles of your back.

You sighed blissfully, letting your eyes drift closed. He worked with surprising skill, easing the tension in your shoulders with slow, deliberate movements. But then his fingers brushed against the strap of your bra, and you heard him suck in a sharp breath.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice shaky. “I— I’m sorry, but—”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his uncertain gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Luke bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes flickering between your back and the mattress. “Your bra,” he mumbled, barely audible. “It’s kinda… in the way.”

You raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smirk at his hesitation. “So take it off,” you said simply, your voice soft yet firm.

Luke let out a small, choked sound, his ears turning crimson. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Luke,” you assured him, turning your head away again to give him permission.

You felt his hands tremble slightly as he reached for the clasp, carefully undoing it with a soft click. There was a strange, charged silence as he worked, as if both of you were hyperaware of the situation.

Awkwardly, you shimmied the straps off and tugged the bra free without exposing yourself, tossing it aside. The cool air against your skin made you shiver slightly, but Luke’s hands returned quickly, steady and warm.

“Better?” you asked quietly, your voice softer than before.

“Yea—yeah,” Luke murmured, pressing harder on your back.

The ache in your head was still there, but it had faded enough to be manageable. Luke's breathing had grown heavier, and his hands lingered a little longer as they moved over your skin. You could feel the press of his knee against your hip, and though you couldn't see him, you could picture the concentrated look on his face—the flush still painting his cheeks, the way his lips parted as he breathed.

A warmth began to build inside you, unexpected and entirely uninvited. It was startling to feel this way with a headache still dulling your senses, but given the circumstances—being half-naked with Luke's hands roaming your back—it wasn't entirely shocking.

That's when you remembered a little fun fact about orgasms relieving pain. A ridiculous idea briefly bloomed in your mind before you immediately shot it down. You focused instead on clinging to your composure, determined to let Luke finish the massage without letting your thoughts spiral any further.

But then he pressed on a particularly tense spot near your shoulder blade, and a soft moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

Luke's hands stilled on your back instantly, his breathing audibly heavier. The air in the room seemed to shift, tension crackling in the silence.

Neither of you spoke, and just as you started to second-guess your reaction, Luke's hands began to move again. His touch was slower now, more deliberate, and the curiosity bubbling inside you became harder to ignore.

Deciding to test the waters, “Luke,” you let out a soft sigh with his name. “That feels good.”

His hands froze again, and you heard him exhale shakily. “Yeah?” he asked, his tone raw and breathless.

His fingers resumed their movements, but this time they dipped lower, brushing just above the waistband of your sweatpants.

“Mhm,” you hummed, letting your eyes flutter shut, fully aware of the effect you were having on him.

His hands hovered over the small of your back, and his touch grew more needy by the second. He seemed almost desperate, pressing down on the spots that had made you let out soft contented sighs as if he were searching for more.

Every time you gave in, let out little moans accompanied by his name, you could feel him begin to work harder— desperately doing anything to hear you sigh his name. It was undeniable now, the heat that pooled in your lower stomach as he continued.

“Lu,” you said softly. “I was thinking.”

Luke’s hands didn’t falter, nimble fingers working out the knots in your muscles. “About what?” his voice was strained with what you hoped was desire, tinged by the heavy breathing.

“Orgasms are known to be a pain reliever,” you turned back to face him, not missing the way his eyes widened. He was still blushing, and when your eyes took in the rest of him, you didn’t fail to notice the way he strained against his pants.

He didn’t reply, but you didn’t need him to. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” You asked breathlessly, biting your lip as you let your eyes linger on the tent in his own sweatpants.

Luke’s eyes followed your gaze, and he yanked his hands back to cover himself. “Y/N, oh my God, I am so sorry—“

Your throat went dry, watching as Luke scrambled to get away from you. You slid up from your position on your stomach, sitting on your knees as you reached for Luke’s hand. His eyes immediately flickered down to your exposed chest, and you gripped his wrist.

“Were you thinking about it, Luke?” You asked softly, looking up at him through half lidded eyes. “Were you thinking about touching me… making me come? Did all my little noises help your fantasies baby?”

Luke swallowed thickly, his gaze darting away before meeting yours again. “Fuck.”

You scooted closer to the edge of the bed, taking his hand. “When I took off my bra, I knew you got worked up. You wanted to see me, hmm?”

The way Luke’s eyes had glazed over was intoxicating, his eyebrows furrowing into an almost pained look as he nodded slowly. You took this as a sign to continue. “You wanted to touch me?”

Luke nodded.

“Say it baby,” you whispered.

Swallowing thickly, he nodded rapidly. “Fuck— yeah,” his breath hitched as you slowly moved his hand closer to your chest. Your heart beat rapidly as you met Luke’s gaze.

“Show me how you wanted to touch me,” you instructed, letting go of his wrist. His hand hovered over your breast, and Luke licked his lips before tentatively touching your skin. The second his fingers brushed against your soft flesh, he let out a strained moan, squeezing slightly, his fingers grazing over your nipple.

Your head fell back, a soft moan slipping from your lips as you guided Luke's other hand to your chest. His wide, blue eyes were heavy with desire as he gasped, “Fuck, Y/N, you're so hot.” His voice was laced with need. “Can I-?”

You nodded, and he didn't hesitate. Leaning down, he wrapped his lips around your hardened nipple, his groan muffled against your skin. The sensation sent a shiver through you, and you moaned his name as his tongue swirled expertly, teasing and soft.

Slowly, he lowered you onto the bed, his mouth switching to your other nipple while his fingers pinched and rolled the one he'd just left, making your back arch.

“You wanna help with my headache?” you teased, your voice breaking into soft moans.

Luke let out another muffled groan, his mouth never leaving your chest. “Make me come,” you added with a smirk, tugging gently at his curls.

That was all it took. A low, desperate sound left him as he pushed you back down onto the mattress, his large hands trembling as they roamed over your body with unrestrained hunger. “Please let me taste you,” he whimpered, his voice breaking into your collarbone as he kissed and sucked at the delicate skin, leaving marks with each pass of his mouth.

You gazed down at him, tugging harder on his curls and making him whimper against you. “Make this headache go away, baby boy,” you whispered, your words electrifying him. His reaction was instant—he slid your sweatpants down your legs with feverish urgency.

“I'm gonna make you feel so good,” he murmured, almost incoherently, his breath hot against your skin. “Fuck, I'll make that headache go away, I swear.”

You watched, breathless, as he tugged your underwear down, leaving you completely exposed beneath him. His gaze was heavy with devotion and lust, and you let your head fall back against the pillow, commanding softly, “tease me a little.”

Luke whimpered at your words, his desperation palpable as he leaned down, dragging his tongue in a long, deliberate stripe along the inside of your thigh. The warmth of his mouth left goosebumps in its wake, your body trembling under his touch. When you looked down, his eyes were nearly black, pupils blown wide, glazed with arousal.

“Now kiss your way there,” you said, your voice a sultry encouragement that had him obeying immediately. His lips trailed reverent kisses across your folds and inner thighs, his breath fanning hotly against your skin. You could feel his restraint faltering, his need undeniable.

“Please,” he begged, looking up at you, his features twisted in desperation. “Please let me taste you. I-I need to.”

Your breath caught when you noticed one of his hands had drifted between his legs, palming himself through his sweats as he begged for permission. The sight made your stomach tighten with want. Without a word, you grabbed a fistful of his hair and guided his mouth to the aching heat between your legs.

Luke's lips wrapped around your clit, and the sensation was immediate and overwhelming. You let out a sharp moan, your back arching off the bed as his tongue worked against you with fervor. His muffled groans vibrated against your sensitive skin, and his eyes fluttered shut, as though he was savoring every second of having you like this.

You could hear Luke groaning against you, low and desperate as you writhed beneath him. His sounds were mainly muffled by your body, his tongue working on you eagerly and leaving you breathless. He gripped your tights, keeping them open for him as he worked.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” youcooed, your voice trembling as a moan escaped your lips. The praise spurred him on, his licks growing faster and more desperate. His shoulders shook with effort, and you could tell his hands weren't just idle —he was touching himself, his movements frantic, his muffled moans vibrating against you.

Luke's eyes fluttered open, locking with yours. His pupils were blown wide with lust, and the sight of his flushed face, lips slick and busy against you, made your breath hitch. He never broke contact, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking gently, the sensation so intense it sent tremors through your legs. His blush deepened, his hand moving even faster, completely lost in his desire to please you.

The sight of him like this—Luke, who always carried himself like he was larger than life, now utterly undone before you—sent a jolt of power and pleasure through you. His need, his complete surrender, was intoxicating. He whimpered against you, his hand wrapped around his cock as he devoured you, and it was a vision you never dared to let yourself dream of before.

Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging just enough to guide his movements. He let out a needy whine at the pull, his eyes fluttering closed as if your touch alone was enough to send him over the edge. His name fell from your lips in a breathless gasp as your back arched. ”That's it, baby,” you encouraged, your voice heavy with pleasure. “You're making me feel so good.”

Luke whimpered again, the sound shaky and desperate, his hips rocking against the bed as though he couldn't help himself. “You taste so good,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible, muffled against you. “I can't—I need—“ His words dissolved into a whine as his tongue moved faster, his hand gripping your thighs as though he were afraid you might pull away.

You watched as Luke's other hand-—the one wrapped around himself-began moving faster, the desperation evident in every stroke. Your grip on his hair tightened, and you bit your lip as a low whine escaped your throat. Leaning back on one elbow, you adjusted to get a better view of him falling apart beneath you.

His free hand slid up to your chest, kneading the sensitive flesh feverishly as if he couldn't get enough of you. “Oh, fuck,” Luke moaned against you, his voice trembling with need.

“Y/N, fuck, l'm gonna—” His movements faltered momentarily, and then his entire body tensed. A long, muffled whine spilled from his lips as he buried his face between your legs, taking your clit into his mouth as though it were the only thing grounding him. You moaned, the sound mixing with his as you watched his eyes flutter shut, his body shivering under the intensity of his release.

Heat coiled deep in your belly at the sight of him—at the realization that he had been so consumed by pleasuring you that he couldn't even hold back. He had touched himself to the sheer thought of making you feel good, and that fact alone sent a thrill through you.

“Look at you,” you purred, your tone drenched in satisfaction. “Such a good boy for me, making a mess for mommy.”

The word hung in the air, heavy and electrifying. For a moment, Luke froze, his breath catching audibly in his throat. Then, with a deep, shuddering exhale, a broken whimper escaped his lips, his cheeks burning crimson as the flush spread down his neck. His body trembled, every muscle taut, as though the word had unraveled him entirely.

“Gonna make a mess out of you, mommy,” he whined, his lips latching on to your clit again. He worked tirelessly, licking and sucking at your skin. Your body vibrated with pleasure as you arched your back, letting out a crescendo of whimpers.

“You're doing so good, Lu,” you moaned, grinding your hips up against his mouth, desperate for more friction. Luke, catching on to your need, slid his hands up your thighs, steadying you before he slowly slipped a finger inside.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. The stretch sent a shiver through your body, your legs trembling as your eyes fluttered shut. He curled his finger just right, hitting that perfect spot, the motion perfectly timed with the flicks of his tongue against your clit. The combination made your head spin, stars dancing behind your eyelids.

Luke seemed completely lost in you, his own eyes shut tight, savoring every sound and movement you made. His tongue worked you with precision, his devotion clear in every flick and stroke.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, and he let out a muffled groan against you. The vibration sent a new wave of pleasure through your body, making your back arch. “Just like that, baby,” you whispered, voice shaking. “Don't stop.”

“Never,” he groaned. “I wanna make you come, mommy.” His pace quickened, his finger curling in deeper as he added another one, making your entire body tense.

“Fuck, Luke,” you whimpered, tightening your grip in his hair as your hips continued to buck against him. Each time they did, he let out a small whimper. His tongue never faltered, though, swirling and flicking over your clit in ways that made your eyes shut tightly.

His free hand roamed your body, kneading at your hips and ass, exploring the length of your stomach and reaching up to your chest. When his fingers closed around your nipple, you couldn’t help but cry out.

Luke’s movements were desperate and needy, as if he were worshipping every inch of you. God— the sound she made. Each of his whimpers, the broken moans, the soft sound of his lips as they sucked at your clit or the flicks of his tongue, all drive you closer to the edge.

“Look at you,” you managed to get out, forcing your eyes open to meet Luke’s. “You’re such a good boy for me, such a good little toy for mommy.”

Luke’s eyelashes fluttered as he looked up at you, the look of his blissed out face almost sending you over the edge completely. He had beautiful lips, that was just a fact, but you didn’t know how much you’d enjoy the sight of them working on you— glistening with both you and his spit.

“You’re so good at this,” you praised, the tremor in your voice only proving your point. “Such a good boy, always making me feel so fucking good.”

His moan vibrated through you, and you felt him press harder against your core. His fingers picked up speed, creating a delicious friction that made the coil in your belly tighten, your breathing growing erratic.

“Oh baby, I’m so close,” you gasped, your own hand coming to play with your chest in an effort to facilitate your release. Your tights were trembling against his head, and he groaned in response. His tongue worked tirelessly, his fingers curling in just the right way. “Please don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.”

You watched as Luke shook his head slightly, a muffled, “I won’t,” escaping his lips as he latched on to your clit yet again. This time, he sent you over the edge.

Your back arched with the force of your release, your legs shaking violently as a loud moan ripped from your throat. Your thighs clamped around Luke’s head, keeping him in place as you rode out your high. His hands held you firmly, savoring every bit of your release on his tongue.

As your breathing steadied and your body relaxed, Luke pressed a tender kiss to the inside of your thigh, his gaze shy as he looked up at you. “Did I do okay?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “Is your headache gone?”

“Fuck,” you said, letting out a breathless laugh, tugging him up by his curls until his lips met yours. The kiss was messy and heated, and you could taste yourself on him as your fingers tightened in his hair. Luke let out a quiet groan, kissing you back feverishly, his hands sliding to your waist to pull you closer.

“Headache's gone,” you murmured against his lips, brushing a stray curl from his face. His cheeks were flushed, his gaze wide and filled with awe as he looked at you. “You did so well for me, baby. I'm proud of you.”

His lips curled into a bashful smile, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses along your skin. “I've had a crush on you for the longest time,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

A soft hum escaped you as your hands ran soothingly over his back. “I know,” you said simply, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his brows lifting in surprise. “You knew?”

You nodded, letting your palm rest against his cheek. “Of course, I did,” you replied gently. “How could I not? I can’t say I don’t feel the same way, especially when you're so eager to please and look the way you do. But it's more than that, Luke. It's you—just you.”

The blush that spread across his face was endearing, painting his cheeks and the tips of his ears a deep pink. He bit his lip and let out a soft, nervous giggle, his eyes briefly darting away before coming back to yours.

Your gaze shifted downward, and the sight of him still painfully hard stirred a pang of sympathy-and desire-in you. Leaning closer, you brushed your lips against his ear, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Tell you what,” you murmured, trailing your fingers lightly down his chest. “You were such a good boy for me, Luke. When we come back later, how about we take care of that little problem you've got between your legs? What do you say, baby?”

His breath hitched, and he let out a small, needy whimper, nodding eagerly. “Y—Yes, please,” he stammered, his voice trembling with anticipation.

You smiled, kissing him again. “Good.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

hope u enjoyed 😁🫶 might make a pt 2 to this using another request but idk

[etherealily]

​🇱​​🇮​​🇹​​🇹​​🇱​​🇪​ ​🇸​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​, ​🇩​​🇴​​🇳​❜​🇹​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇩​​🇴​ ​🇼​​🇭​​🇦​​🇹​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​​🇷​ ​🇧​​🇮​​🇬​ ​🇸​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​ ​🇩​​🇴​​🇪​​🇸​

Based on this request <3

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW but discretion advised. Drugs.

My other Nate fics. If you have the time.

A.N: No way I managed to write something with a happy, non-cliffhanger ending. Are you guys proud of me?

P.S : My love for Elvis makes a cameo AGAIN.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc.: "Hello, You."

════════════════════ 🔭 ═════════════════════

Joe Goldberg had it all wrong.

Sure, stalking people when you know nothing about them is rewarding, yes, but hard, and time-consuming. Good on you, Joe.

But Nate didn't have time. He wanted quick and easy.

And let me tell you something, nothing is easier than stalking a house you already know inside and out.

Nothing is easier than stalking an Instagram profile that you already follow.

Nothing is easier than stalking a girl you already know.

He hadn't exactly prayed for this, okay? But when it did happen, it hit him all at once, like a freight train. Obsession - love - is tricky like that.

What started as a way to check on Maddy after being blocked ended up with scrolling past pictures of her on others' profiles and zooming into yours. Hands in his pants.

It's not even like you reminded him of her, so it was genuinely starting to disgust him, as well, to give him the creeps. You were a junior, it was weird, but it's not like love cares. Heart wants what it wants and all that.

The last name you shared with his ex was the only thing that haunted him. Like actually, haunted him. Like, he'd have dreams about trying to erase your last name and put his instead but it stayed on, like a stain, like a reminder.

Not to mention, he was exactly the opposite of your type.

He'd liked to have tried to say he didn't fit that bill, that he was quote-unquote, not like the other guys, but he genuinely couldn't say that. He was a dick. And he knew it. Badge of honour, baby.

Fucking yay.

The badge didn't really do that great in landing him a date, though.

Yeah, a date, not even a hookup. That's what he'd been reduced to. A simp.

You weren't even all that great, either, and he was genuinely wondering if he was secretly being roofied, the way all great Kings are before attempted regicide. Sure you were hot and not a cunt, but like, that was it. Was Nate attracted to the bare fucking minimum? Is that what your sister had done to him?

No, but then you weren't just not-a-cunt. You were also genuinely kind. Charitable. Genuine.

Fuck. Fucking Perezes giving him migraines and whiplash.

════════════════════ 🔭 ═════════════════════

He was about ninety percent sure you'd be there. You were always there, he'd noticed, at about four thirty sharp, at the bus stop. Your stupid fucking wired earphones on.

Get airpods, you fucking nerd.

Knowing you, you probably didn't want to, lest someone think you were ignoring them when they were talking to you, but you actually had earphones on. Ugh.

The sheets of rain barely let him see you, let alone allow you to hear him, as he leaned with an umbrella on the side of the bus stand, his elbow almost recoiling thanks to the sharp cold. "Yo, Little Perez!"

What the fuck did he just call you? Okay, whatever. He slipped up. Happens to the best of us. Luckily, you didn't hear.

"HEY!"

You frowned, taking out one earbud and trying to look around for the source of the sound. The source waved at you with just his fingers. 'Cause he was cool like that.

"Hey!" Jesus, even with the thunder and the incessant shattering rain, he could swear your voice just changed his brain chemistry.

"You're wet as fuck!"

"That's not how you catcall someone! You fucked up the line!" Ha. Fucking amazing. THIS kinda humour, he could get by.

"Are you womansplaining how to catcall to a guy?!"

You rolled your eyes, chuckling. "What do you want, Jacobs?!"

"Having a little moment?!", he asked, nodding at your phone. "Or do you need a ride?!"

"Bus!", you called back.

"Which one?", he asked, before looking at the sign on the side of the bus stand. "Wait, 4A through Kemper?! It's cancelled 'cause of the rain!"

"What?!"

"Yeah, check it out!", he said, whipping out his phone as you moved closer, tilting it so you could see the bus schedule update. That he totally did not find from months ago and edit to pass off as today's.

Your eyes widened and your fists clenched. "Motherf--!", you cut yourself off, kicking the bench slightly. "Still offering that ride?"

"Sure, I'm going through Kemper, anyway."

"Why are you going through Kemper?"

"My Dad owns the apartment complexes past there, so I'm just doing the routine drop-ins and shit. Keep 'em scared of the boss or whatever."

You were being uncommonly attentive to his reasoning. He had not expected that. Good thing he didn't slack off on alibi prep.

"So. Whaddaya say? Need a ride?"

You nodded. "Of course I need a ride. This fuckin' town, man. Stupid bus schedules.", you muttered, following him - and his umbrella - to his car.

════════════════════ 🔭 ═════════════════════

"You sure it's okay?", you asked for the second time since you entered his car and graced it with your scent. "Like, it's all muddy."

He sighed, looking down under your feet. No, it irked him and if it were anyone else, he'd have tweaked out. Not you, though.

'And besides', he realised, grumbling as he looked down at his own feet, "I'm makin' it muddy, too.", he assured, completing his thought by saying it.

"Just this right.", you instructed, and he turned right. Where the fuck were you going?

"Where are you takin' me? Got a ransom or something?"

You smiled, rolling your eyes. "Left, then second right."

Okay, you wouldn't answer that, apparently. Fine. Elephant needs to be addressed, then.

"Aren't you supposed to hate me?"

You frowned, scoffing softly as you turned to him. "What?"

"I dated your big sister. All the shit that happened with us. No way she didn't tell you."

"Yeah, she did."

He waited for elaboration, but found none.

"So? You don't care?"

"Look, Nate, I think you're an asshole for what you did to my sister."

Yeah, you'd be weird as fuck to think otherwise.

"But I know my sister. She's not... she's not a complete saint, either."

Obviously, you're referring to the multiple times she's cheated on him. You're being deliberately vague because you think he doesn't know and it's that kind of concern for others' wellbeing that makes him want to tell you to do whatever the hell you want to him right now.

"So I'm just not getting into it, okay?"

Okay. "Okay."

"Yeah, right here. Right here's good.", you said, and he came to a stop, watching you gather your stuff and practically fly out.

"Rue Bennett?", you asked the - could he say receptionist? Or was this guy just out there with a ledger? - receptionist, breathlessly.

"She just signed in. Sponsor?'

"Escort."

Huh. Huh. WOW. You were charitable enough to fuck around with RUE BENNETT? Jesus, who were you, Mother Teresa?

"Hey, is this an NA meeting or something?", he called, elbow leaning out the window.

"Yeah, my friend doesn't have a good track record of attending, I gotta make sure she's there! But thanks, Nate, I owe you one big time, man!", you called back, scrawling your name onto the ledger before running into the building.

He watched you disappear until the ledger guy cleared his throat. "You an addict, too?"

Nate snorted softly, scoffing and shaking his head as ledger-dude started laughing. "Fuck off, man.", he replied, key in the ignition again.

"Don't blame you, kid!", he called, and Nate wanted to punch him. No way was he watching you go in, too. That shit was creepier than Nate wanting you. "Have a good one!"

Oh, he would.

════════════════════ 🔭 ═════════════════════

"Yo, hey. Little Perez." Fuck, why did he keep calling you that? It was fucking retarded.

"Hey, Nate."

"I think you owe me something."

"You know that's just a thing people say?"

"Mm, yeah, but...", he muttered, shrugging. "I'm a man of my word, so I think everyone else should be too. Unless you think not keeping up your promises is good?"

You rolled your eyes. "You don't need to guilt me into it. Just ask."

"There's a party. You're coming to it."

"Nah, no parties."

"What are you, gonna give me some bullshit 'I-don't do-parties-I'm-not-like-other-girls' excuse? Or the 'they're-so-overwhelming' excuse?"

"Next week's finals week."

Oh. Okay, well, now he just feels like a dick.

"Oh, shit, my bad. Forgot you little juniors have it a month earlier than we do.", he muttered, watching you for a moment before he decided enough was enough. He'd just ask.

"What are you even doing?", he asked, watching you take the last sealed box from your friend and place it in front of the notice board at the school entrance.

You looked back up at him, before unrolling the chart you'd been working on during study hall yesterday. "Hm? Oh, fundraiser."

"For this hellhole of a school?"

"Uh, no.", you replied, shaking your head. "For the soup kitchen, through the school."

He snorted. "Right. Who's even gonna sign up?"

"Hey, they signed up for the ASPCA thing last fall. Must be the community waking up.'

Or guys wanting to dick you down.

"Yeah, but that's 'cause it's you who asked them to."

"Hey, you wanna sign up?"

He scoff-laughed, raising a brow. "Me? For the soup kitchen?"

You knelt down, ironing out the poster with your palms, looking up at him expectantly.

No way you weren't doing that shit on purpose. No way. Wait... you- you weren't. That was a genuine fucking question and you didn't understand that there's no way he could say no to you when you look at him like that? Jesus.

He sighed, magnanimously. "What do you need me to do?"

"Well, you're tall. So just help us hang this thing up. Ladder's not tall enough."

Humming, he took the poster from you, giving it a once over. Jesus. "You made this?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah.", you nodded, hands on your hips. "Cool?"

"Couldn't make this shit if I tried."

"That a compliment?"

"Supposed to be. But you're right, it's a toss-up. I'd never try in the first place.", he mumbled, nodding subtly at you before he climbed up a couple rungs. "Here?"

"Mhm. Maybe like a tiny bit higher?"

He'd climb Everest for you. He just wished you'd know that.

"Here?"

"Yeah, perfect. You need tape, or do you think you can hold it up long enough to use a couple push pins on each corner?"

"I think I can handle it.", he replied, unamused, but he hid a grin at your laughter. Not to call the Lord's name in vain, but Jesus, were you fucking with him.

He leaned down to get the clear plastic box of colourful pins from you, placing it on the top rung of the ladder for a moment and taking a couple out. "So like, two on each corner?"

No response.

"Yo, Little Perez?"

"Uh... maybe three?"

That wasn't you. Who the fuck was this dweeb?

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Cole.", the kid said, still holding the ladder down securely, as if that was his life duty.

"Did I ask your fucking name?"

He's a dick, but this was too much, even for him. But you'd just gone AWOL, so yeah, he was kinda pissed.

"No, I...", the kid muttered, kinda pathetically.

He huffed. "Where is Y/N?"

"She's over there.", he mumbled, and Nate's gaze followed his scrawny little hand to see you talking to Maddy. Huh.

Yeah, Nate was the problem. Maybe he always was.

Why, in his stupid little mind, you guys were totally different universes, he didn't know.

Why his stupid little mind didn't expect for those universes to clash, he had no clue.

You were sisters! Stayed in the same fucking house, maybe even sometimes the same fucking room! What sort of idiot would hope for the opposite? Him, apparently. He needed you as far away from her as possible.

Hard task, but if Joe Goldberg could do that to a girl and her best friend, he could do it to a girl and her sister.

════════════════════ 🔭 ═════════════════════

"You're tweaking out, man, what is up with you recently?"

He rubbed his hands across his face. "The little sister asked me, okay, I didn't want beef with both Perezes, yeah? So just shut the fuck up and come."

"At least can we bring booze?"

"No, they're including East Highland Middle School, too."

Yeah, convincing an entire football team (plus Chris McKay, in hopes that he'd bring his college football gang) to take part in some soup kitchen fundraiser wasn't exactly simple.

Definitely not as simple as, say, mapping out your room in his head so that when the time came to inevitably kiss you against the door, he wasn't losing face looking for the bed or bumping into your snazzy little swivel chair.

Which he, of course, did a shitty job of. He refused, for his pride, to become one of those binoculars-using creeps. He considered himself more subtle than that. And sophisticated.

But anything was better than the mess he was making of this.

"What is this, like, a bowling thing? A raffle?"

"Car wash."

"With the cheerleaders in it?"

Maybe he should've led with that.

"I mean, maybe? I'm sure Y/N could convince them..."

"Shit, I'm down. It's one of those wet, soapy ass ones you gotta get into bathing suits for, right?"

Yeah, definitely should've led with that. He nodded.

He fist-bumped, dapped-up, and took as many shoulder pats as were thrown at him, before he raised a brow. McKay was still in there, his arms crossed.

"Was this what your whole question was about?"

"Huh?"

"You texted me last night."

Oh, yeah. Drunk.

"Shit, yeah. Just ignore that."

"Yo, McKay. Ever fallen for an ex's sister? How 2 deal with it? Lmk.", he read out, sarcastically trying to imitate Nate's voice.

"I was shitfaced, man."

"Right."

Nodding, Nate shoved his hands into his pocket. "You'll show up? To the fundraiser thing. I really am tryna be a good person, 'kay? Don't want to disappoint Perez Number Two."

"See, Nate, what's throwin' me off is that you're not saying you wanna fuck this sister, you're saying you're falling in love with her."

"Uh-uh, no, no, I said falling for her."

"Same thing, man."

"No, it's not."

McKay chuckled, and Nate couldn't help but reciprocate. "Seriously, Nate, I don't know if it's a good idea."

"She's completely fucking different, man, I'm telling you, she and her sister are, like... fucking worlds apart." Who the fuck was he trying to convince?

"That's dangerous, Nate, there's so much could go wrong--"

"Man, I just need some advice. I don't know how to do the boyfriend thing, clearly. I actually like this girl." Ew, what the fuck had you done to him?

"What are you, sweet on Lexi Howard, now?", he scoffed, clenching his jaw. "As if you haven't fucked up the Howards' life enough."

It's good that McKay thinks the ex he's talking about is Cassie. Actually kind of dumb.

He'd just tried to convince footballers to join a fundraiser for you, and he thinks it's Lexi Howard he wants.

Maybe this dumbassery is why he lost Cassie.

"Hey, Lexi did that on her own with that stupid fucking play of hers."

"Yeah? And it was the play that fucked Cassie for months?"

He fell silent. Yeah, McKay and him had never actually spoken about the whole fucking-his-ex-girlfriend thing, but he figured they weren't technically still together.

"Man, look, I'm not with her anymore. I- we're done. Yeah?"

"Yeah, I know.", he spat.

"She's all yours, man.", he muttered, before McKay scoffed.

"Like I want your sloppy seconds. And who the fuck are you, giving me permission?"

"If you think I still want Cassie, you're a fucking retard, McKay."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Chill, man, okay, I'm not gonna--", he cut himself off, rubbing his hands over his face. "We're cool, I just wish you'd have told me, and I didn't have to find out about it fucking... months later."

Huh. Wow. McKay was a better man than Nate was, for sure. If McKay had been fucking Maddy, he'd have committed double homicide.

"Alright, look, my advice is just don't put up a front. If you're a dick- which you fucking are - just own it, and make it cute."

"Cute?"

"Self-awareness. Girls love it. Pearl of wisdom, brother, you owe me with your life."

"Wait, so I'm just gonna have to continue being a dick?", he called, as McKay shouldered past him.

"Yeah, but consciously make an effort not to be. It's a delicate balance. But you'll find it!"

Either McKay had just ruined his life or given him the best advice in the world.

════════════════════ 🔭 ═════════════════════

"Jesus Fucking Christ."

Yeah, he was going to hell.

But what the fuck else could he say?

Who the hell would have thought the turnout for a fucking soup kitchen car wash would be this huge? Who even were half these kids?

Of course, nothing would beat the ASPCA thingie you'd organised in the fall, even Nate came to that. But that was just 'cause Maddy liked cats. Or whatever.

The fucking vibe of the place - you wouldn't think this was a school, no, it was some sort of car-washing-frat-party-cult. And you, absolutely fucking oblivious to this miracle you somehow conjured up, stood in the middle, with a clipboard and a very stressed out look on your face.

"Yo, Little Perez, you seeing this shit?", he mumbled, unable to force the awe out of his tone as he nudged you.

"Yeah, your little football friends are literally supposed to be vollunteers. Instead, they're paying more than actual customers."

"Money's money, hon."

"I suppose that's true. Horny teenagers are the best market."

There we go, you were a quick study, he'd give you that.

"Why do you look like you got a stick up your ass? Relax, maybe bring your car to be washed? It's a success!"

Normally, he'd have asked you to go topless and get to work. But something told him that kind of joke wouldn't fly with you. And besides, why the fuck would he wanna see middle aged men in cars grinning at you cleaning?

"People leave without paying sometimes."

"It's for charity, no one's gonna cheap out."

You snorted, loudly at that. "You'd be fucking surprised, man."

"Still, no need to be this stressed. You're fine. See? All that? You made it happen. Little Orphan Annies throughout the state owe their lives to you, or whatever.'

"It's not just for orphans, for like, anyone who's hungry and needs some food, so, like the--"

"Okay, so homeless people. The less fortunate. My bad." Dick, but consciously trying not to be.

You smiled softly, nodding. "Yeah. Precisely. And I just hope this is enough, y'know?"

He rolled his eyes, watching the footballers wolf whistle at the cheerleaders turning on the hose. "Money-making-machine right there."

"You know what would get more female customers?"

"I don't know, Brad Pitt? Penn Badgley?"

"The 6'5 star QB giving 'em a show."

He chuckled incredulously, raising a brow at you, arms folded. "Nope. No fucking way. You want me to strip? I already brought in so many people!"

"You're right, you're right. You've done enough. I was just kidding."

He grunted softly, though it was more out of amusement than frustration. "I do this, you'll come to the party?"

"Finals week. And I was kidding, man."

"If I host a party after finals week. Will. You. Come." , he asked, battling a grin. Yeah, he sounded annoyed but that's the last thing he could be when you stood there in flip flops with a pen tapping anxiously on a clipboard you've scribbled on.

"Sure."

"No bullshit?"

"No bullshit."

"And you'll drink and actually fucking participate? You won't try to turn the whole thing into an AA meeting?"

"Jesus, no!"

His hands moved to opposite ends of the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his body. "You are a fucking genius. Getting me to do all this.", he whispered, shaking his head before flipping you off as he jogged over to the next car in the lineup.

"You volunteered!", you called back, and he could hear the laughter in your voice. Fuck, RIP his brain chemistry.

════════════════════ 🔭 ═════════════════════

"What? No! You don't get it. None of my guy friends get it."

He's gonna pretend that didn't sting. 'Guy friends'. May very well be 'gay best friend'. Being reduced to a non-dateable-option wasn't the best feeling, but part of you was better than none of you.

And he couldn't blame you, even if it was you putting your guard up.

Everyone who asks you out is turned the fuck down. And they are all a very specific genre of human - sorry, subhuman. Jocks. No, sorry, that would make him fall into that bracket.

Idiot jocks. Who couldn't think about anything but fucking and fighting.

But luckily for you, he had the looks, the physique, and the smarts and sophistication that came with being a Jacobs.

Whole package.

However, the way this shit was going, he'd have to watch as some hippie tweaker who 'believes that animals are people, too, dude, go vegan or go home!' got to date you.

It's weird, right? How someone can change you so quick.

He just wanted you. Like, he wanted you.

He wanted to know your darkest secrets and never use them.

He wanted to know how tall your walls were and break through them.

He wanted to know why you were so fucking nice to people like Rue motherfucking Bennett, and he wanted to exploit it.

But most of all, he wanted to know what made you tick. What turned you off a dude. What could possibly make you blow a gasket.

What made you... You.

"I just think that you guys don't get how much like, potential Loki has. As a boyfriend."

"Yeah, but Thor's jacked, he's not fucking evil, and he's, like, a superhero!"

"Loki isn't evil, he's just--"

"If you say misunderstood, I'm going to crash out.", he muttered, pushing some hair behind your ear. With his luck, you'd ignore it, because of course friends help you when hair's getting into your eyes!

"But he is misunderstood, okay? Like, he was constantly made to feel inferior in every way!" See? Ignored.

He watched you take a bite of your pasta before taking a bite of his burger. "I swear, girls always do this, they go for the worst possible option and then justify it instead of going to the best option and enjoying it."

Shut up. Yeah, the irony wasn't lost on him. Hardy har har.

"Loki changed at the end. Okay? He'd just assumed that Odin's mistreatment was something Thor believed in himself, even though Thor thought of him as a brother!"

He groaned, a slightly pained laugh escaping him. "Next you're gonna say you're Team Cap."

"What? No! No, Tony was right."

He tilted his head. Huh. Brains. "Yeah. Good. 'Least you got something right, but now you got me thinking you have an aversion to blondes."

You chuckled and he swears he's going to lose it from your smile alone.

"How's finals going?"

"Good. Kinda scared for results, though.", you mumbled, shaking your head. "I'm so scared that every second I don't spend studying is another mark lost, and I'm losing it."

"Jesus, there's the fucking stick again. I swear, you should just--"

But it's like the universe was not okay with him winning, because in came your gang of nerds - sorry, your fellow student council members - to whisk you away.

"I'll see you later, Jacobs, okay?"

"Nate!", he called back, almost warning, before he was affronted with the sight of Maddy rolling her eyes at him. "Did you just call out your own name?"

"Shut up, Maddy. I was talking to someone."

"That's literally fucking pathetic."

Look who's talking.

════════════════════ 🔭 ═════════════════════

You didn't seem to actually do much to give him enough insight into your life, seriously.

You came to school, talking with your sister on the way.

You spent your school day doing nothing but going to classes and occassionally talking with Nate (fucking yay), and then you spent an extra hour and a half at school for some after school bullshit you did, he didn't care enough. And then you came home and studied.

Like, what a fucking nerd. What a sexy fucking nerd.

But finals week was over, and he'd even given you another week to wait for results, and now he was hosting a party.

Well, McKay was.

And you weren't coming.

One thing he couldn't stand for was you lying to him. Which was exactly what you did.

You had a date, you said, and that would have resulted in him getting into a car accident - that wasn't really an accident - on the highway if he believed you.

But he knew you weren't going on a date. You were going back to the fucking NA meeting for fucking Rue Bennett. There should be some limit to your charity.

But like the calm, level-headed individual he was, he didn't crash out, he simply schooled his face, took deep breaths - and maybe a can of beer - and parked his car gracefully.

His hand stilled on his seatbelt, and he looked down at the buckle for a moment, lost in thought.

No, no, fuck it. No second thoughts. He undid the buckle, getting out before locking the car with a beep.

The trees shrouding his sight slowly gave way as he walked, and right there, to his left, on the stairs, was you.

Ledger-guy wasn't there, and so you were aimlessly playing with the pen that hung from the spring tether attached to his table.

You watched it bobble around each time you pushed it away and then watched it swing right back to you, regardless of how hard you'd pushed it, albeit unknowingly.

There was a metaphor there. He was sure of it.

"Hey.", he said softly, carefully. "Thought I'd find you here."

You looked up at him, but didn't even seem to have the energy to act guilty. "Hey."

He sat down with a low exhale, his knees bending uncomfortably as he nudged your shoulder with his own. "Yo."

You turned to him, nodding.

"What's going on? How come you're out here? She could've snuck out by now."

"She won't. She's doing really well. She's been sober for almost two months now."

He let out a soft whistle, nodding, before looking back at you, frowning slightly. "So why do you look depressed?"

"Her withdrawals, y'know, um. They're gone, but like... this two month mark is usually where it goes downhill, so I'm, like... worried, or whatever."

"It's gonna stick this time."

"Told myself that last year."

"Look, we've all grown up together. Small town. I- I'm not, like, fucking 'BFFs'... ", he muttered, using air quotes, "...with Rue, but she's strong.", he continued.

You shrugged lightly. "I guess."

"Hey, look. She's been through a lot. Her Dad kicked the bucket a while ago, her little sister found her ODd, rehab, lack thereof, relapse, all that shit. She'll get through it. And she's doing well enough right now. I saw her at school yesterday, she looks good. Like, healthy."

He was seriously wondering if he'd been hexed, because here he was, admitting he'd noticed Rue Bennett's sobriety, and spoken in favour of her, all for you. To alleviate your worries. To get that sadness off your face.

You nodded. "But I'm just... I hate that I can't be there with her through every bad moment."

Like he wanted to be with you.

"Hey.", he sighed, shuffling closer, brushing hair from your eyes and moving your head to his shoulder both in one swift motion. "She's here, isn't she? In there? Talking about her sobriety? She's going to school, too. You got her there."

Scoffing, you shook your head. Your humility would be the death of you, he's sure of it. "No, her family did. Mr. Ali did."

"You escorted her to every single meeting, without fail. You don't miss a single week."

Please don't ask how he knows, please don't ask how he knows-

"I guess."

Phew.

"Right. Trust me, one step at a time. Okay? She'll be fine."

You hummed and he looked at his reflection in his phone screen so he could analyze what a fucking simp he'd become.

"Thanks."

"Oh, shut up.", he scoffed. "'Thanks' like hundreds of people - and animals - don't owe you one already."

"Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Put me up on a pedestal?"

"You'd rather I treat you like everyone else?"

"How do you treat everyone else?"

"How you'd expect me to."

You bit the inside of your cheek. "Why did you strangle my sister?"

If he had a beer in his mouth, he'd spit it out. "Anger issues."

"Did you get help for them?"

Who the fuck were you? He tells you he strangled your sister 'cause he was pissed, you want to know if he went to a shrink to get that shit out of him. He shook his head.

"Why not?"

"It's just about the only defence mechanism I have."

He didn't like how your stupid questioning made him feel as if he really was talking to a fucking shrink. He'd never admitted that before.

"Oh."

He took a long, deep breath, before patting on the tops of his thighs, standing. "C'mon."

"What? Where? Rue's still in there.", you asked, looking up at him as he stood over you.

"We'll be back before it's over."

════════════════════ 🔭 ═════════════════════

The waves threatened to devour your feet, but didn't seem to have the power to actually make good on their threats.

"I'm driving Rue back."

"It's PBR. It's impossible to get drunk off it, trust."

You shrugged, taking the can and popping it open.

He watched your lips wrap around the edge of the can, and your throat as it cascaded down it. Holy. Shit.

Taking a sip himself, he shifted so that his elbow was resting loosely on his knee. "Never have I ever...", he mused, grinning as he watched your eyes roll.

"Oh, sweet Jesus.", you scoffed.

"You skipped out on the party. I refuse to let you spend tonight without a little bit of fun."

"And 'never have I ever' is the way to do that?"

He shrugged. "Never have I ever.... kissed a girl.", he finished, taking a sip.

He was pleasantly surprised to see you take one, too.

"Oh, this I gotta hear."

"Keep your panties on, it was my best friend, and we just wanted to practice kissing, get my first kiss over with."

What a liar.

"Your best friend?", he scoffed, raising a brow.

"...'s sister.", you admitted, biting your lip.

"There we go. Cassie Howard isn't a bad choice for a first kiss."

You shook your head. "Yeah, I know. Just felt weird. Like I was betraying Lexi or something. You never go for the sisters, y'know?"

Oof. Right in the heart. It was like it was directed at him.

"Yeah, but you weren't dating her."

"Well, yeah, but it's the principle."

He exhaled, before taking another sip. "Tell ya what. I'll drive Rue and you home. Get the stick outta your ass.", he muttered, pulling out a packet of pre-rolleds.

"Wh- no, what? You want me stoned in a car with a recovering addict?"

Okay. Fine. Fair.

"Fine, then here.", he replied, handing you his pocket flask. "It's whiskey, not poison."

You looked at it, contemplating for a while before sighing. "You know where she lives, right?"

"Uh huh."

"And where I- well, yeah, 'course you know where I live.", you mumbled, still gazing at the bottle.

"Don't you trust me?", he asked, softly, tilting his head.

════════════════════ 🔭 ═════════════════════

The door swung open and he stood face-to-face with Maddy, the ex he hadn't seen for almost the entire school year. Well, that she knew of.

"Hey."

"Jesus.", she muttered, gently grabbing you from his arms. You were - surprisingly- still coherent, but you couldn't really be trusted to stand on your own. "The fuck did you drink?"

"Whiskey.", he piped up, handing you over carefully.

"And you just happened to be walking by?"

"No, we were waiting for Rue's drug meeting thing to get over, and we just went a couple blocks away to the beach."

Maddy scoffed, still stroking your hair as she glared at him. "Where you gave her whiskey."

"Well, yeah, she's been stressed the whole week, which you'd know if you cared."

"Oh, please, like you care more about my sister than I do." she spat.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'll see you around, Maddy. Bye, Y/N.", he mumbled, turning around.

See, this was why he had to get you the fuck away from your sister. She'd never trusted anybody in her life, but you were different, you had a heart.

"What did you say to her?", she called as his key turned in his car lock.

To Rue? He'd said that you'd told him to tell you that you had an urgent emergency at the soup kitchen, and to walk herself the fuck home.

"What?"

"She'd never drink while waiting on Rue."

Huh. Okay, fine, so she knew some things about you. But she was your sister, so it was less impressive than how much he knew. So there.

Not that it was a competition.

"I didn't say anything. Told her to get the stick outta her ass."

"Did you like... how did you convince her?"

I asked whether she trusted me and gave her the most solemn look ever.

He shrugged. "Dunno. Guess she needed a break that bad and I'm the only one willing to give her one.", he responded, getting into his car.

That was so badass. Write that down.

════════════════════ 🔭 ═════════════════════

"What now? Does UNICEF need your help?", he groaned, barely holding himself back from yelling.

"I got grounded for being drunk. Maddy tried to sneak me up, but my mom caught me."

He doubted that. Maddy probably took you upstairs slowly on purpose so that you wouldn't be able to come to this party, either.

"Just sneak out. Come on. You've already skipped out on, like, two parties."

"Hey! The first one doesn't count, I wasn't coming to that, anyway, it was finals week!"

Rolling his eyes, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. "If you come I'll donate to charity.", he whispered in your ear, breathing in the smell of your hair.

You laughed at that, exactly like he wanted. "Is that all you think my life is?"

"Come on. Do it for the kids."

"I've never snuck out before."

"Maddy'll teach you, I'm sure.", he scoffed, shooing you off to your next class. "She's coming anyway."

"You're an ass."

"Badge of honour, baby!", he called, waving. Okay. This was good. Finally.

---

Watching McKay do a keg stand wasn't exactly on his bucket list for the night, but hey, he had to do something until you arrived.

He looked down at his watch. When he'd passed by your house, he'd watched you getting dressed through your window. Maddy was doing her makeup in the room next to yours.

That was a half hour ago. The drive from your place to McKay's wasn't even fifteen minutes. So where the hell were you? He was looking around - had been since he'd arrived - for your blue dr-- oh.

What an idiot. It's possible you'd changed after he had left. Right. So blue dress not counted. Now he was left just looking for you.

Logical deduction suggested you'd already showed up, but then again, you could be in a bathroom, seeing as you seemed so nervous about sneaking out perfectly that you hadn't really had the time to put on makeup yet.

Not that you needed it. But still. Would look nice.

And he was right.

You were right there, cutting uncomfortably through the crowds, beelining to the bathroom. He called your name, but the music drowned him out. Fine. Whatever.

He stopped the bathroom door from closing behind you. "There you are."

You watched him through the mirror, before turning around. "Have you seen Rue?!", you called, your phone to your ear.

Unacceptable. Un-fucking-acceptable. You cannot be this selfless. It's actually unhealthy.

"No, why?" He fought a frustrated eye roll. Let her OD, at least the rest of the town could have some semblance of peace once she's dead!

"She's here, that I know, but she isn't responding to any of my texts! Or calls.", you added, gesturing at the phone by your ear. "Straight to voicemail."

"She's probably just having fun, like you should probably be doing.", he reasoned, gently taking the phone from you and ending the call, shoving the thing into his back pocket.

"I told her not to come."

"Then she should have fucking listened. Hey- hey, it's not your fault that she doesn't take care of herself.", he whispered, his thumbs rubbing arcs on your cheeks. "Why are you so... just relax.", he murmured, kissing your forehead.

"No, Nate, you don't get it, she came because she thinks she's ready, and that she knows if anything goes wrong, I'm right here."

"Look, you can't let people depend on you so much, you're going to lose your shit. Trust me, I know. My mother doesn't have anything but me and my brother, and it's hell. She doesn't take care of herself, she lets our Dad walk all over her-", he muttered, still wondering how you're, yet again, effortlessly making him say shit he's never told another soul.

"But what if something goes wrong?"

"Nothing's going to go wrong."

"Hey, last time she was at a party, she met this weird kid Elliot, who got her hooked again."

"She won't relapse. It won't happen. You're right here."

"I'm not with her, though."

"You don't need to be. She's a big girl, she'll take care of herself. And besides, you won't be there with her her whole life, will you? Making sure she's sober. She'll graduate this year and go to college. She isn't going to depend on a high schooler to keep her safe all the way in college, is she?"

He can tell that you fully understand what he's saying, and that you even agreed, to an extent, but he certainly didn't blame you for not accepting it. You were just unnecessarily caring, almost to a fault.

This was all you knew.

"You need someone to take care of you, too, sometimes.", he said, bending his head so he was now looking up at you, from where he had you perched on the countertop. "Yeah?"

"What? What are you even- look, you're wasting time, Nate, I don't want her relapsing, I cant- I know it's selfish, but I can't go through all that with her again, Nate--"

Selfish? You were the antonym of that word, and it was disgusting that you couldn't even see it.

"I get it. Sometimes you need a break, too. Need someone to love on you. Need to know that what you're doing isn't thankless."

You looked down at him, a soft frown on your face that he wanted to hug off you.

"I can see it. You're not denying it.", he teased sing-songily, tapping your nose.

You grinned softly, trying your damndest to hide it. "Shut up."

"You're a good person, whether you're on Rue-watch 24/7, or looking out for your sister so that she doesn't get abducted by the guys she fucks, or being the most charitable bitch this side of... well... Earth.", he chuckled.

"Do you have a point? Or are you just doing the pedestal thing again?"

"My point is this."

Kissing you was exactly how he'd imagined it would be. Smooth, slow and correct. Not correct as in he was doing it correctly - god, he fucking hoped he was - no, correct as in this was probably the only purpose he'd had for his life.

He could feel you shifting away, and he shook his head. "No. No, no, no. Don't. The sister card's not gonna work."

"But it's valid.", you murmured, trying to pull away as he pulled you closer.

"No, the fuck it isn't.", he replied against your lips, pulling you toward the edge of the counter. "Shut up."

"That's mean."

"Yeah? Well, so are you. How's that for a pedestal?", he asked, his lips on your shoulder. "Look.", he sighed, finally, finally able to bring himself to look at your face. "Just say yes."

"To what?"

He scoffed. "World peace. What do you think? Me."

"You?"

He nodded, attempting to fix your hair as best he could. "I care, see?"

"Oh, sorry, yes, messing up my hair is, like, peak boyfriend."

"Fixing it is. I don't do that for anyone.", he retorted, kissing your forehead again. "One date."

"'One date' is wild. Because that'll totally convince me.", you laughed, and he tsked, shaking his head.

"You're not funny. Seriously. Like, one date. And it's gonna be completely secret. No Maddy messing with us. No Rue messing with us. No Cassie. No... no one else."

It had just occurred to him how many people really had messed with his life so far. No longer.

"One date?"

Huh, wow. You were considering it. That's more than he'd expected from you.

"One.", he assured.

"One."

════════════════════ 🔭 ═════════════════════

"I am?"

"Yeah, like, way different than what I thought you'd be like. Your whole thing was like, asshole."

One date had turned to a second, a third, and now, here he was, on the same beach with you again, watching you smoke the pre-rolled cig you'd declined a couple months ago.

"Can't say you're that different than I thought, though. You're exactly who you seem to be."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I don't know, you tell me.", he grinned, taking the blunt back from you.

"Aren't you the expert on all this personality stuff?"

He chuckled. "There's only one thing I am - and want to be - the expert on."

"What's that?"

"You."

He was, and, if his plans went well, he would continue to be. He could one-up your sister, he could one-up Rue Bennett, he could one-up every single loser in town.

Because he'd know everything about you.

He'd know you.

[voxslays]

Under the Weather…

Featuring >>> Vox x Reader; In which, you are having trouble at work, trying to manage your massive migraine and a report, until Vox notices.

You were Vox’s head assistant. Your job was managing his schedule, watching his other assistants, writing weekly reports, and monitoring his social media accounts. It doesn’t sound that hard. Lately, you had been feeling a little under the weather though, and had been finding it harder and harder to focus on scheduling and Voxtok feeds as you felt the sharp stabbing pains of a migraine. You had tried to be discreet for the past two weeks, but something in your boss's gaze tells you your plan has failed. 

​​Vox walks towards you, a smug look on his face as he notices your pale complexion and the way you're rubbing your temples. “Ah, ah, ah, look at you, my dear. You don't look so well. Maybe you should sit down before you pass out.” Vox says, his signature smile prominent on his flatscreen face. “I’m alright sir, truly. I just need to finish this report-” Vox interrupts you, shaking his head slowly. “Let’s get to the point, shall we? Why did you come into work today?” He asks, his smile fading a little as he walks closer to you “And please, don’t call me sir, you know better than that.”

​​“Sorry, Vox.” You correct yourself. “I came here because I need to work? I need to do my job.” You say, as a half-question, half-statement. Vox chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, you need to work? Well, well, well. It seems my darling is getting a bit forgetful.” He leans in close, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. His smile returns, but it doesn't reach his eyes as he looks at you intensely. "You know, I've been watching you.” He says your name softly, his entire demeanor becoming gentler. “Noticing how distracted you've been lately with those migraines." He reaches out and gently caresses your cheek with the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry.” Vox's hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “You're always apologizing, aren't you? Always putting others before yourself.” He sighs, his expression softening further. “It’s going to get you killed down here.” Vox's other hand reaches out and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "I know you're not well, and I know you've been neglecting yourself because you think you need to keep up this facade." He leans in closer, you can feel the warmth of his fans as he breathes a mellowness against your face. He pauses, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for an answer. When none comes, he continues. "So, I'm giving you the rest of the week off. No arguments." Vox releases your chin and steps back, his expression unreadable.

“What!? But sir-” Vox cuts you off, his voice firm. "Not a word. You're going home, and you're going to rest. That's an order." He turns and walks back to the door, opening it and gesturing for you to leave. "Now." You lower your head, looking at the ground. “Yes Vox.” You quietly mutter. You begrudgingly exit his office and walk into the main lobby of the floor, pressing the elevator’s button. As you wait for the elevator, Vox calls out to you. "If I find out you came back to work early, I swear..." He trails off, leaving the threat hanging in the air. "Just rest, okay?" He says gently. 

“I will.” You say as you step into the elevator with a group of other employees and disappear from sight. As the elevator doors close, Vox lets out a sigh of relief, the facade of the cold, unfeeling overlord Vox dropping away. "Please be alright.” He says, as he watches you slowly walk to your car in the parking lot. His breath deepens as he watches you get in and drive away, hoping you’ll be better soon.

[pomefioredove]

Hi, there ! :D

I saw the new Christmas event and it got me intrigued so I want to try my shot

If it is not too much trouble, I would like to request:

Can I have a sugar cookie, #4, with marshmallows, whipped cream and powdered sugar ?

Take your time and without pressure. I wish you a happy December and a merry Christmas. Thank you. ཐི✧ཋྀ

tfw azul

order #4, sugar with marshmallows, whipped cream, powdered sugar

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a reason to quit

summary: azul works in customer service to get closer to his crush. pining ensues tropes: royalty au, coffee shop au, roommates au characters: azul additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is not yuu, reader is prince rielle's sibling

It was quite simple, actually.

If Azul could not impress you, he would die.

Okay. Maybe that's somewhat of an overexaggeration. But that's what it felt like.

If he had known that higher education would be so distracting, perhaps he would have gone right into the private sector!

Of course, his university roommate just had to be the kindest, smartest, most beautiful person he'd ever met. Of course they had to be the elder sibling of the detestable Prince Rielle.

And of course they were entirely uninterested in him.

Oh, how he loathed feeling this way...

At least he could still depend on the tweels, wherever in the world they were, to lend him their eyes and ears and stalking skills, and to find the exact coffee shop you perused every morning.

Someday, Azul thinks, He'll own a whole franchise of these. Then you can have as much overpriced coffee as you want.

Today, though, he's desperate.

"That'll be fifteen thaumarks. Yes, you heard me correctly- that was six pumps of caramel, ma'am- the price accounts for the product, it's quite simple! Wha- a secret menu? I assure you, if there was such a thing, I would have been the first to hear of it!"

Azul steps away from the counter, massaging his temples. It's only six thirty in the morning, and he already has a migraine...

It will be worth it. There's no reward without risk!

The shrill, unpleasant sound of the bells by the door becomes an angelic choir as you pass them. Azul hurries back to the counter. This is the only tolerable part of his shift, after all.

"Pleasant morning," he says to you, smiling as if his manager had just given him the rest of the day off.

You smile back. Good. Very good. You are so very pretty, do you know that? Surely, you do, you must have a line of suitors waiting for your hand. All the more reason for Azul to work hard.

"Ah... up bright and early again, Azul? You must really like this job,"

He grinds his teeth, putting more pressure into his smile. "Just love it. Your usual?"

"I think I'll try something new. Whatever you would recommend,"

"Very well," he beams. You trust his judgment that much? Azul pushes his glasses up his nose and gets to work, not-so-subtly checking you out every few seconds. Why is it so hard to speak to you????

Thank the Sevens for customer service small-talk, he thinks for the first and only time ever.

"How has your morning been?" he asks, again, trying not to seem too eager. "You had an exam quite early, if I remember correctly."

Which he does, of course. He has your schedule memorized down to the minute. As one does.

You look up from your phone. "Ah, you remember that...? It went... well, I think,"

Azul takes off his glasses to wipe the steam from them. He wants to savor being able see you, after all. "You don't sound too confident,"

"I'm sure I passed..." you sigh. "It's just that... well, our father is strict. If he found out I was barely passing-"

"I'll tutor you!" Azul blurts out, the paper cup of coffee nearly slipping from his hands. You blink.

"Ahem- I apologize. I only meant that it would be no trouble for me. And I would do so at a discount, of course."

He puts a lid over the warm confection and stumbles to the other side of the counter, as if this was his first day on land.

"You'd do that for me?" you follow him, eyes wide. Pretty...

Azul almost blushes at that cute look, and lowers his gaze to his trembling fingers, attempting to write your name on the cup, his normally perfect cursive reduced to scribbles.

"...Of course. It would be more convenient than hiring a stranger,"

"Oh..." you say, looking down at his hand as you take the cup from him, your fingers brushing over his. And you smile. "Thank you!"

Azul's heart misses a beat (several, really) and he blushes again (detestable human form!)

You don't seem to notice, but everyone else in line is staring. One older man taps his watch. How he loathes this job.

"It's no trouble at all," Azul says, glancing your way. "I was looking for a reason to quit, anyway."

[karasuno-planet]

Taking care of you

Kageyama x manager!reader who gets migraines !

warnings: migraine pain, vision loss

wc: 0.8k

summary: self-assured reader gets a horrible migraine and needs help, despite never asking for it. (pre-established relationship w/ kageyama) (fem!reader)

a/n: I LOVE THE HAIKYUU FANDOM SMMMM <333 you guys are my favs. requests open !! and the tsukki academic rivals fic is in the works for anyone wondering...

(gif not mine !)

One thing you had quickly learned while dating Kageyama is that he's not one for public displays of affection. You certainly weren't secret, hell pretty much everyone knew and was talking about you two, but you kept it private. Especially in front of his opponents. That's why it came as such a shock when you felt his arms aroudn you suddenly in the middle of a practice match.

To say you had a migraine that day was an understatement. Three days into the trining camp, in excruciating heat working late to help the team reform their entire strategies form the bottom up— you were exhausted.

But you were used to the migraines. It was something you could handle. The team is already under so much stress, especially Tobio. His sets hadn't been satisfactory, and he was re-learning everything he already knew from scratch. You couldn't imagine the pressure you knew he already felt, so keeping the pressure of your aching head a secret was nothing in comparison.

That doesn't mean nobody noticed, though. Walking into the first practice set of the day, Coach Ukai made a comment.

"Y/n, are you feeling okay?"

"Yes! Feeling good..."

"Okay, just let me know if you need to take a breather or something."

Had you already been exposed? The last thing you wanted was to be a burden on the team, but the floaters in your vision were a bit hard to ignore. And when the ringing in your ears set in, it got worse. Much worse.

By the third set of the day, you weren't faring well. You stood on the sidelines, taking notes on gameplay, when your vision started to black out completely. You widened your eyes to realize you couldn't see a thing. Your head pounding, you focused all your energy on just staying on your feet.

A deep voice yelled out, "Y/n? Are you okay?"

You recognized it as Daichi's voice, "Don't worry Daichi, I'm just fine..."

You heard Asahi chime in, "uh.. That was Kuroo talking...on the other side of the court..."

Before you knew it, Kageyama rushed off the court, running towards you and supporting you with his hand on your back, "Damn y/n, you can't see a thing, can you?" You recognized his touch and sent in front of you immediately.

"I'm okay, really."

"Sure.." he dismissed you. "I've got you okay? Must be scary, not being able to see..." he mumbled. "Can you walk if I support you? Here.." He started slowly helping you walk towards the exit of the gym.

"KAGEYAMA!" Hinata shouted, "What's going on??"

He sighed, looking back at the court, "She gets bad migraines, but she'll be okay, don't worry."

There was a collective sigh and chatter resumed across the volleyball court now that everyone understood the issue. Some players were wishing you well, but you could hear next to nothing with the ringing in your ears.

"I'm walking her to her room," Kageyama declared to Coach Ukai before continuing to support you to walk.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. SUGAWARA, get in there."

Suga jolted into action, stepping onto the court to fill Kageyama's place.

And that's the last moment you could clearly make out before you woke up.

You were laying on your back, a cold towel draped across your forehead and a blanket over your body. Tobio sat on the floor next to your bed, and turned around to face you quickly when you heard you moving.

"Y/n," he whispered. "Here, have some water." He handed you a bottle of ice water and you took a couple sips.

"Thank you..."

"No problem, but, why didn't you tell me something was wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to distract you."

"That's ridiculous, your migraines are serious and I deserve to know."

"You're right, I'm sorry."

You felt his hand slowly wrap around yours, "No, I...I've been so stressed out and mad at myself I didn't even realize what that might do to you. So absorbed in my own world..."

"My migraine is not your fault Tobio."

"Drink some more," he pushed the water towards you, noticeably keepin ghis voice low and soft to not irritate your head.

You took another sip and sighed, "I'm serious. You have nothing to do with it."

"Regardless, I have everything to do with it now. I'm not leaving your side until you're back to one hundred percent, okay?"

"You don't need to do that."

"But I'm going to," he assured you, squeezing your hand tightly in his, "besides, I'm lucky to be your nurse when you've got quite a few people eager to see you..."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I don't think those guys have ever whispered in their lives," he chuckled softly, "I told them to piss off until I say you're ready."

"You're the best, Tobio."

"I know."

Before you could even open your mouth to thank him, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek and set you back in your thoughts.

"I don't mind taking care of you, you know."

[masterlist]

[stemcellee]

november 25 2024

i haven't really put a lot of words out there recently but i think i finally have something to get off my chest after thinking about it for a while...and to avoid spam it's under the cut D:

happy holidays to everyone though can't believe the season is already here!!!

med school is so hard!! i admit when i first got in, i was like "im not gonna let it get to me. i have amazing stress management skills and i'll handle everything so well!!" and then i fought a lot with dissapointment in myself when i was struggling with things i never imagined.

stuff i feel like i wasn't prepared for:

the constant worry about not doing enough. you see snippets of other people's lives when they are productive and it makes you feel like everyone is so much more productive than you

how hard it can be to compartmentalized. both ways!! when i'm relaxing ("relaxing") i'm planning how to somehow be productive while relaxing. when i'm working, im wishing so bad i had spent my relaxing time ACtually relaxing

attachment. this feels like such a personal problem but when i'm doing practice questions the clinical vignette is consistently similar to people in my life who have been affected by the pathologies i'm about to be tested on. a 70 year old woman with hypertension and diabetes...succumbs to decompensated heart failure. a 50 year old woman has bouts of angina...and suffers a massive MI. a 60 year old male is rushed to the hospital for chest pain...and dies of ventricular arrythmia an hour later. it's so scary thinking about how your parents and loved ones could be those patients!! it motivates me to make sure i learn these things for my future patients but it's sad carrying this around. i guess this is part of why i went to med school anyways...

how easy it is to forget about yourself. i will have days of highly productive focused studying/work but suddenly will get slapped with an unexpected migraine. i am getting a lot better about this but i have to remember that working out, eating well, etc are not wastes of time. i need to preserve myself most importantly becasue without me, i can't even do any of this!!

last thing. projection. i find myself making up problems sometimes that i think is a coping mechanism for projecting my own frustrations into something to blame. like studying is tough and i get frustrated that it doesn't come as easily to me sometimes, so i feel upset that things aren't how i expected them to be, like if i had more support id be happier/better at studying etc. while that's true, i recognize it's also a coping mechanism to place the blame externally...

anyways yeah there are a lot of things i've been thinking about in the thick of it all. med school is not what i expected it to be, and i really cannot blame others for not knowing what to expect either because truly you cannot anticipate how you will feel. thanks for reading it's been a min

[crayonboxcolors607]

in honor of Part 1 getting 100 likes and like 15 reblogs! (a lot for tiny stupid me lol) i decided to suck it up and write another part bc ppl have asked for it

IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PART ONE, PLEASE DO SO!

After Robin found out, things were a bit better for Steve. The two of them practiced their signs during slow shifts at the Family Video. Robin showed him a new sign every day and helped him improve his lip reading. It benefited his daily life too. Gone were the days when he had to walk all the way across the store to talk to Robin, now the two of them could have conversations from opposite sides of the store, their hands flying fast as they spoke.

Robin was a fucking godsend, bullying Keith into giving Steve more time off in case of migraines and providing excuses when he couldn't drive the kids around. She begged Steve to wear his hearing aids, eventually telling him that if he played his cards right he could cover them up with his hair, which ultimately convinced him. She'd helped him find a new hairstyle that almost eliminated them completely, clapping her hands excitedly as the shock on his face was evident when he turned them on and could differentiate sounds again.

Of course, there were still things that were hard, even with the hearing aids. Steve needed to be directly facing someone in order to have a basic understanding of what they were saying, and there couldn't be anything obstructing their mouth. This proved especially difficult when Steve interacted with the younger Party members, although they continued to chalk it up to Steve's usual airheadedness. For once, he was grateful to be stereotyped as a dumb jock.

One random day in October, however, things began to change.

Dustin had somehow roped Steve into driving him, Mike, and Lucas to some fancy-ass comic store in Indianapolis, claiming that "the one in Hawkins is not nearly comprehensive enough, Steve". He'd rolled his eyes and responded with what they referred to as his "Mom Pose", his hands on his hips and his eyebrow cocked as he stared at them judgementally. Eventually, though, he'd relented, letting them fight over who got shotgun and who had to sit in the back.

Somehow, although he himself didn't quite seem to know how, Lucas managed to snag the front seat. He'd slid in quietly as Dustin and Mike threw themselves into the backseat, yelling obnoxiously about unfairness and favoritism. Steve refrained from pointing out that he'd had no part in the tussle for shotgun, instead allowing it to play out.

He and Lucas had been engaging in conversation about sports when Lucas had quietly mentioned that he was thinking of trying out for the school's basketball team, tentatively asking Steve if they could meet up the next weekend so he could give him some pointers. Steve had agreed without even thinking, but he began to panic once he got home later that afternoon. How was he supposed to go over skills in basketball when he couldn't even hear out of his left ear?

But in typical Steve fashion, he procrastinated until the last minute, eventually deciding that he simply wouldn't wear the hearing aids. He'd be fine for one basketball practice, right?

And so, Steve drove to the basketball courts that Saturday, removing his hearing aids as he arrived, and thus reintroducing a fuzzy ringing in his ears that he hadn't experienced in a long time. It felt alien, but he shook his head around a bit and started to shoot baskets. He'd forgotten how good sports made him feel, and was pleasantly surprised at the adrenaline that began pumping through his veins. In fact, his new lack of hearing made it easier for him to practice, as it allowed him to tune out the rest of the world and focus solely on himself and his own fluid motions.

This did prove to be a slight problem, however, as he didn't hear Lucas dropping his stuff on the bench, nor did he notice him walking up to Steve. So the tapping on his shoulder startled him far more than it should have.

"Jesus Sinclair!" Steve exclaimed. "You scared the shit outta me, man!" Lucas seemed confused at Steve's reaction, and he silently reminded himself that none of the kids knew about his hearing.

"Uhh, sorry Steve," Lucas said slowly. "Are um, are you okay?" The concern on his face melted Steve's heart just a little bit.

"I'm fine buddy," he reassured the young teen. "Was just in my own world a bit, you know, focusing and stuff." His explanation seemed to comfort Lucas enough, and he grinned.

"You ready to get started?" he asked, tossing the younger boy the ball. Lucas caught it with a practiced ease and began dribbling, feinting left and right. Steve dropped down into his defensive position, mirroring Lucas's every movement, tracking his feet to predict which direction he would go next.

He felt himself slipping back into that headspace that he loved so much, the one that drew him into sports in the first place. Because he didn’t need to think about it, the strategies were always in his brain. He just needed to rely on muscle memory, all his former skills coming back to him as he and Lucas scrimmaged.

They played for about thirty minutes before taking a quick break to grab water and snacks, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Lucas opened his Gatorade™ and said something Steve, causing him to look over in surprise as he struggled to figure out what the younger boy was saying.

"Pardon?" he said, pretending he just hadn't been paying attention. Lucas repeated himself, or at least Steve had to assume that he did, because again, he couldn't understand a single word that left the younger boy's mouth.

There was a heavy feeling in his stomach as he debated asking Lucas to repeat himself a third time.

Someone tapped his leg, pulling him out of his own spiraling headspace. Steve looked up, feeling even worse as he registered the fear on Lucas' face.

"Steve," Lucas began slowly, seeming struggling with what to say next. "Can you, uh, can you not hear me?"

Of course, that sentence Steve was able to comprehend.

With a heavy sigh, he shook his head.

"Not really," he replied, looking anywhere but at Lucas. "My hearing started to go after Billy smashed my head with a plate. And it got worse after Starcourt." He looked up then, a grim smile on his face. "Turns out multiple concussions aren't exactly good for a person."

Lucas' eyes widened at the confession. "So, are you deaf?" he asked. Or at least, Steve assumed that's what he said.

"Partially," Steve replied. "I can't hear at all out of my left ear, that's where I got the most damage. My right ear can function, but not normally. I mostly rely on reading lips and context clues."

"Oh my god," Lucas said slowly, the gears visibly turning in his head. "Oh my god! W-we kept teasing you! We kept calling you stupid a-and laughing at you! You couldn't even hear us! And you-" The boy suddenly slumped over and placed his head in his hands. He said something, Steve was sure of it, but it was additionally muffled by him covering his face.

"Uh, Lucas, buddy," Steve said hesitantly. "I can't understand you if I can't see your face." Lucas looked up at him then, tears pooling in his eyes.

"It's my fault," he said. Steve felt his mouth drop open in shock, and began to protest, but Lucas stopped him.

"Billy was coming after me," he insisted, talking clearer so Steve could understand. "He was attacking me! You stepped in and tried to defend me -- now you're deaf and it's all my fault!"

Steve felt his heart drop.

He'd been so scared to tell anyone because he was worried they wouldn't view him the same way as before, that he hadn't even considered how the kids might feel if they knew he was like this because of his attempts to protect them.

"Oh Lucas," Steve said softly, gathering the crying teen into his arms. "It's not your fault. There isn't a world where I wouldn't have done the same. You're my kid. I'm always gonna protect you. That's just how it works." He felt Lucas try to push away, to protest, but he just held him tighter. "You and your little gaggle of idiots are worth everything. I'd go deaf a thousand times if it meant keeping you all safe."

With a sniffle, Lucas detached himself from the older boy.

"Really?" he said, eyes shiny with tears.

"Of course," Steve responded, without missing a beat. He gave the younger boy a final squeeze, before wiping away the few tears that had escaped while he and Lucas were talking. "I'd better get you home anyway. Your mom will have my head on a stick if you miss dinner." He kept his hand on Lucas' back as he wiped his tears and sniffed a final time.

"Okay," he said. "But you're staying for dinner."

HOLY SHIT I FINALLY FINISHED! ONLY TOOK ME 9 MONTHS LOL

okay okay so i did talk about the older members of the party finding out next as well as dustin but i just had to make a liar out of myself bc when i started writing this my brain was just like "but what if we did a wholesome reveal with Lucas instead??" and now here we are and i regret nothing

except the lack of sleep. i regret that a lot.

also, i am not an athlete. i am a depressed and introverted high school theater kid who has never played basketball in my entire life bc i am a measly 5ft 1in (roughly 155cm). so dont come at me if the sportsball lingo is incorrect bc i have no fucking clue what im doing.

also THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND ALL THE LIKES AND REBLOGS ON MY LAST POST!!

[costracan]

do you have any tiergan hcs? apologies if you’ve already answered

dw, i haven't answered before! (and sorry for the late response, i've been having a problem with asks randomly disappearing from my inbox)

i honestly don't have That many headcanons for tiergan, but i do have a few! i would definitely be interested in hearing yours or anyone else's hcs though... :-)

• along with being fairly touch-averse (canon), he has some sensory issues.

• mild generalized anxiety + social anxiety. it used to be way worse when he was young, but he’s old enough to know how to manage it, more or less.

• he's 100% queer to me... i personally think he's gay, but i like other interpretations too.

• very short. like, the shortest adult elf in the series besides bronte, who i also hc as super short, LOL. many of the teens are taller than him.

• i was gonna say that he has small braids in his hair, but then i looked up his official appearance and saw that he actually does have small braids in his hair 😭 i don't picture them like That, though....

• started getting chronic stress migraines after prentice got exiled. he has a custom elixir from kesler that he buys and uses regularly. unfortunately, the migraines didn't go away even after prentice was brought back and healed, although they do happen less frequently.

• finds it hard to connect to other people or show affection until they're very very close (like wylie and prentice, and weirdly enough, forkle?), and is awkward about it when he tries. (this one is also kinda canon, but it's important to me...)

• he and one (or both??) of the forkles lowkey had a Thing going on at some point........…..

• partakes in fizzleberry wine from time to time, even though it can trigger his migraines.

• tiertice ofc

[sevasey51]

Connors wife was able to pace herself during a long shift knowing a POTS episode and migraine was around the corner. It was fatigue induced. She goes to find Connor up in cardio. When she finds him she’s ok for a few minutes. They chat at the desk and it hits her. She passes out and Connor is able to catch her. Ava was walking out of a room and sees him catch her.

Right on the Edge

Summary: After a long shift on maternity, Y/N knows her body is headed toward trouble. She feels the creeping signs: dizziness, fatigue, that lingering pressure in her skull that always comes before a migraine. But she paces herself carefully—water, food, steady breathing—and manages to make it to the end of her shift. Knowing she’s not quite in the clear, she goes to find Connor up in cardio. She thinks she’s okay. Until she’s not. And the moment her body gives out, Connor is right there to catch her. Ava too—because the people who love her never let her fall far.

The shift had been long—but not chaotic.

Just enough back-to-back sections and on-your-feet-too-long moments to leave her teetering. She’d kept ahead of it though—snacked when she could, kept up with her hydration, logged her vitals mid-day when her heart rate jumped to the high 110s. She even stepped off the unit for a ten-minute reset in the supply closet when the lights got too bright and her head started to ache.

Pace yourself, she kept thinking.

You know where this is going.

She’d done well. Better than usual. And now it was the last half hour of her shift. Everything on maternity was calm.

Still, she didn’t trust her body enough to go home solo. Not today.

So she took the elevator to the cardio floor. She knew exactly where Connor would be this time of day—reviewing echo results at the desk near the glass-walled conference room. And, like clockwork, she spotted him there, dark scrubs, sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed in focus.

The moment he saw her, he smiled. Soft. Familiar. A little concerned, always.

“Hey,” she said, keeping her voice light.

“You pacing okay?” he asked, already standing and crossing to her.

“Barely,” she admitted with a small laugh. “I didn’t crash, though. Win, right?”

He reached out to squeeze her hand. “That’s a big win.”

They chatted quietly for a few minutes. He asked about her fluids. She teased him about not eating lunch again. He started saying something about getting her set up with a bag before they left for home.

And then—

It hit.

Her vision tunneled. Her knees buckled. A wave of heat flashed across her body, followed by an icy chill. She blinked hard, trying to clear it—

And her body gave out.

“Hey—hey,” Connor caught her instantly, one arm behind her back, the other supporting her knees as they folded. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Her head lolled briefly. Eyes barely open. Heart pounding so fast it vibrated under his fingertips.

“Damn it—Y/N, come on, stay with me—”

That’s when Ava stepped out of the nearby room, chart in hand.

She froze the second she saw Connor lowering to the floor, his wife limp in his arms.

“Connor?” Her voice snapped sharp.

“POTS. She paced all day but it still hit. Pressure and heart rate are way off.”

Ava was by their side in seconds. “Get her flat. Legs up. Do you have the emergency bag?”

“Always,” Connor said, already reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling the port access kit and emergency meds.

A nurse appeared in the hallway. “Do we need a chair?”

“Prep one and call down to the ED,” Ava said calmly. “I want a monitor and fluids down there.”

Connor got the port in while Ava ran a rapid neuro check. “Pulse is thready. She’s conscious but foggy.”

“She was fine two minutes ago,” Connor muttered, anger at the situation—not her—tight in his voice.

“That’s how fatigue crashes work. You know that.”

“I still hate it.”

They got her down to the ED quietly. She was already more alert, heart rate tapering off, but her blood pressure was still low enough to make Ava frown. A liter of fluids was hooked up in triage. Connor stayed by her side the entire time.

By the time they dimmed the lights in the quiet treatment room and wrapped a warm blanket around her, she finally whispered, “Sorry.”

Connor leaned in and kissed her temple.

“Don’t ever apologize for a body that’s doing its best. You paced all day, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”

She blinked slowly. “Did I drop hard?”

“You did,” he said honestly. “But I caught you.”

Ava, from the foot of the bed, added dryly, “And I called it in before you could be the overachiever who tries to walk back to cardio.”

Connor chuckled.

Y/N cracked a tired smile. “Thanks, Ava.”

Ava grinned. “Anytime, Nurse Rhodes. Next time, come find me five minutes sooner.”

[selfpositiveundertale]

Long post.

TW: car accident

Hey everyone. I'm not doing great.

I've already been having a hard time with migraines getting absolutely out of hand and interfering with literally everything in my life, but yesterday I had my first car accident. The meme I just posted is relevant. It was my fault but thankfully only me in the vehicle. Other than bruised knees(I'm short so I had the seat pulled up close so I could reach the pedals) and some mild rug burns where the air bag got me on my left hand and my neck (I had instinctively raised my arms to protect my face), I don't think I was injured in any way my chiropractor couldn't fix. Definitely jarred my entire skeleton and dislocated some ribs and messed up my neck but what else is new. I didn't hit my head and nothing hurts in any way I'm not already deeply familiar with. Surprisingly I haven't gotten a migraine yet but I'm fully expecting one soon.

Really good thing I wasn't wearing my sunglasses. I lost the pendent off my necklace though. It must have broken off when the air bag blew and then fallen into the road when I got out of the vehicle.

My vehicle is totaled. Not a great loss since the thing was on its last legs anyway but it sucks not having my own transportation now, even if I could only drive in town and couldn't leave town because it wouldn't make it far on the interstate. It would start shaking like a leaf any time I went over 50 mph and I didn't like that. I'm really sore and tired and shaken up but I'm getting through it.

My husband came immediately when I called him and he talked to the car insurance company and called his boss to take the rest of the day off work so he could be with me.

The people in the other car were mostly okay other than the man having a cut on his forehead and his wife having a scraped knee but both of their babies were completely unharmed, thank goodness. Nobody was mad at me, possibly because I was hysterical panicking inconsolable and kept apologizing and asking if they were okay. They were also on their way to the car dealership to see about getting a new vehicle anyway, so I think they'll be fine.

I made an appointment with my chiropractor this morning and he checked everything and basically said I was in pretty bad shape but not really any worse than usual, which was a great relief but not surprising. He fixed the ribs, my shoulder blades, neck, and hands and gave me some samples of a supplement he said might help the soreness. I'm also taking my painkillers, OTC pain medicine, and applying arnica cream to the bruises.

I've been so tired and sore and haven't been up to doing much of anything except eating my feelings but I'm making sure my pets get fed and helping my husband get ready for work in the morning. I don't think I'll be able to meal prep anything for him like I normally do and he says it's okay, he's not expecting anything of me if I don't feel up to it and he doesn't mind buying his breakfast and lunch.

I fear the financial repercussions of this, especially since things have already been very tight due to several sudden veterinary expenses. The cat gods looked at us and went "kittens upon you and your household" so in the last 4 weeks there have been 2 vet visits for a tiny baby runt of a kitten my husband found alone and abandoned at his workplace, one for a very pregnant stray kitty that followed a family member home and popped out 7 babies, and one for my dog when she caught a UTI. We think she's over it by now but I'm taking her back to the vet Friday for a recheck. It's been hard with her because she's been refusing to eat her dry food and we've been having to buy wet food as well as chicken breast and white rice and alternating between the wet food and a bland diet when the antibiotics made her tummy upset. I'm really hoping that by Friday I'll be brave enough to drive. The vet isn't far and my mom is going to let me take her old car for whatever I need until we manage to get me another used vehicle.

I know the car insurance is going to go up because of the crash even though now there's one less vehicle on it, and I'm praying to the heavens that I don't have to actually go to a doctor and get checked out because of the crash.

I need to see a doctor anyway about the migraines that are now coming several times a week and affecting me in unsettling ways like impairing my speech, making me nauseous when I use my eyeballs for their intended purpose, and even made me collapse once. But the clinic I usually go to because the price is income based is in the next town and I'd definitely have to have my husband take time off work to take me. I also fear they'll refer me to a neurologist. I'm certain I need to see one but since I don't have health insurance and the process for getting financial assistance at any given specialist office is (probably deliberately) incredibly difficult and tedious and almost not even worth the effort, it just doesn't seem feasible at this time.

I am trying to make things to stock my Etsy shop so I can make some money but at the moment I just don't have the energy for it. But maybe I should try anyway. The simple repetitive action of crocheting while listening to a book or Old Gods Of Appalachia might help me settle down and feel more normal. My hands ache but my compression gloves might help.

Things are just extremely scary and very painful right now. Staying determined is hard but I'm trying. I'm trying so hard.

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

[dennydraws]

What do you mean it's mid February!?

Anyone else feel like time is kinda speed racing? :D;; only me?? Work has been a landslide, holiday event after holiday event which made me overdo my regular coffee intake and now I suffer the consequences of wrecked sleep, migraines and back pain and my friends will probably put me in time out box after reading this... u_u;; I always stress eat/drink during work's more intense periods... and by drink I mean coffee - alcohol is not something I'm fond of anymore.

It feels like a pattern of, work gets busy, I stress, I can't manage with my own personal project, I try to unwind with shows/games then feel guilty stressed I didn't work on said projects and aaaa...

Now that work is calming down, I'm trying to get back into healthier habits and reducing the coffees to 1-2 during the day instead of having the coffee machine injected into my veins through the weekdays lol;;;

I feel iffy I've fallen off with my OCKiss Week challenge, I was excited to do it and my eyes are always super tired once I'm home after work. I hope to get at least 1 drawing done ;u; I was thinking of sketches but maybe just 1 finished piece will be okay. Kisses are still actually kinda hard for me! I end up locked in a loop of adjusting the sketch forever xD;; but that's also fun part of the challenge!

I'm iffy I'm still not done with Sneric Comic chapter 15... I do good progress then something else pops up and I have to do that in the weekend instead. It doesn't help that it's like 9-10 pages and procreate suddenly reminded me I have way too many layers :D;;;; It is a bit too much for a chapter, I admit. My chapters are like 5 pages top and this one is twice the size. I did recently do an overlook of what's left to illustrate, there is still some big story points to hit... so much about "short comic" ...u_u;;;

Admittedly when I started this, supposedly short story, I didn't think it will go for over a year. I did learn some things though! Like, I miss when I draw pages traditionally and I should never underestimate the importance of pre-planning and thumbnailing xD;; I should've learned by now but nope... I thought I could yolo it cause I wasn't super serious with this comic and went off with purely vibes.

Other than that... I'm at the final post end game content in Rune Factory 4! It was a ton of fun :D I loved the characters so much! I am floored at the amount of dialogue and attention to detail. This game spoiled me greatly... u_u;; I don't know if I can finish the Rune Prana dungeon by the end of the month but I will try (Suikoden Remaster is coming in March aaa)!! My Frey got to marry Arthur and I was not prepared for the amount of feels his events brought me. This poor, poor man needs to be pampered and loved. I hope I can squeeze some fan art sometime soon... T^T;;;

Other than that, I'm eating well with Severance season 2!! Oh gosh, this show is an absolute delight to watch... visually and mentally. I'm kinda glad there is one episode every friday otherwise I'd have binged everything and this show feels like it needs a slower consumption. xD It's nice to see a show where the little "whatfuckary" is actually well thought out and intentional.... unlike this other show -side glance at From- .... at least this is the impression I'm getting so far! :D Anyhowsies! This was my quick life update... and I need to scoot back to work now! I hope everyone is doing well and enjoy the chocolates for St Valentine, spend some time with loved ones or give yourself some much deserved quality time! :>

Thank you for stopping by, dear reader!

[jenroses]

I am in so much pain.

It's probably temporary but by which I mean "I should have an hour or so of complete relief Tuesday when they do a medial branch block" and if that works for an hour, they will follow it up in an unspecified amount of time with a nerve ablation.

You see, my spine is falling apart. On approximately six levels I have foraminal stenosis, disks bulging or slipped, and substantial spinal arthritis. Also bone spurs. None of those locations include the place where my spine takes a random hitch in what my doctor calls "mild scoliosis" and which I call "what the hell it's not supposed to bend like that and also I'm 52 and no one ever told me shit about scoliosis and I know they looked."

Anyway the cervical segments manifest in migraines sometimes and if I don't use a travel pillow to keep my shoulders off my ears when I side sleep my arms start to have Issues. But those are okay right now.

The problem now is in my lumbar and sacrum, where Something Has Gone Wrong and there are multiple nerves getting pinched and thus I have shooting pains, pins and needles and electric shock sensations down my left leg most of the time and my right leg occasionally.

My baseline chronic pain used to be a 3-4.

It's now 7 on a good day.

I also have me/cfs, and i cannot adequately express to you how fundamentally draining it is to hurt all the time.

Because I'm having a procedure tomorrow, I'm off my supplements. No turmeric extract, which is a startlingly heavy lifter in the inflammation department.

No fish oil, which seems to increase my coping ability.

And I haven't been able to take naproxen, which is a rare breakthrough med for me, since Thursday.

Which leaves oxycodone. I hate oxycodone, because it constipates me and isn't very effective at the levels which don't give me a headache.

I've been sleeping in 3-4 hour medicated chunks. The lidocaine patches which usually help are not really doing it.

Sitting up HURTS like a mofo. Standing up sends shooting pains down my leg and lights up buzzing up and down my thigh.

Nevertheless I've spent the last three weeks in Christmas/birthday prep mode, mostly directing other people's cleaning efforts but building a 3d printer and computer for my kid, and having to micromanage party prep because no one else seems to actually see the messes.

The party is over. I am lying in bed on oxycodone that has brought my pain level down to about a 5. 10 is kidney stones and childbirth. Standing up a few hours ago put me at a 9.

I managed to cobble together 6 or 7 hours of net sleep last night in 3 chunks.

In a bit I will apply a massage lotion and use gua sha stones to work on my hip and thigh. It is a very temporary relief but I need all the relief I can find. If the massage did not fatigue me, I'd do it every damn day. But overstressing my hands makes them hurt.

It's hard to remember that I have not always been in pain and that I will not always be in pain.

Fuck insurance companies and their requirements for me to go though so much to get the actual issues addressed.

Fuck Medicaid for not covering any of this shit when I had it.

Fuck fatphobic doctors who just shrugged and said "you're too fat to operate on" when I asked for help 2 years ago. The doctors I'm working with now are the second opinion but if I'd gotten real help 2 years ago I'd be better off already.

Anyway fuck everything. I'm getting 100% of my dopamine from the lovely comments people are leaving on my fanfics. So I've been posting rapidly. There's a good chance this is my last fanfic.

We're supposed to go to Costa Rica in February. I hope I can.

[more-better-words]

Karveth learns a lesson about human reproduction (not like that).

Monica felt the first twinges while she was still at work. It was a naggingly familiar sensation, but she was moving and busy and didn’t pay it much mind. But by the time her shift was over and she was on the tram home, she was sweating, a hard, gripping, nauseating pain radiating from below her navel. Every so often, it would morph into a sharp prodding stab centered above her hip bones, first the left and then the right. Oh no, she thought as she entered the lift, heading up to their apartment. Oh crap.

She grimaced as she fumbled with the apartment door, feeling a suspicious wetness between her legs, and not the fun kind. How could this have happened? She hadn’t had a period in over…

Five years.

“Crap,” she said aloud. Did she even have any supplies anymore? She leaned against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, another cramp gut-punching her as she tried to think.

A memory stirred: Packing up her old apartment, discovering a disused cup in the back of the bathroom cabinet. Had she kept it?

She couldn’t move fast – she felt like she was walking through quicksand – but she made it to the bathroom. And there, haphazardly tossed behind some rarely used hair products, she found it. She let out a sigh of relief and, with out-of-practice fingers, got it placed.

“Okay, crisis averted,” she said. But that didn’t do much for the fact she felt like she'd been run down by a cargo loader. She took a couple of pain pills (which felt woefully inadequate) and sat on the edge of the bed, breathing very deliberately through her nose. Eventually, she eased herself onto her side, rolling into the center of the bed. She grabbed Karveth’s pillow and hugged it hard, breathing in his scent. That helped a little.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there before she heard the door open, and Karveth’s voice. “Monica?”

“I'm in here,” she called, and she must have sounded truly awful, because he appeared in the doorway, eyes wide and antennae alarmed.

“Are you alright?” he asked worriedly. “Is it a migraine? Did you have a breakthrough?”

He was so sweet, she thought, looking up at his handsome face and smiling wanly. “No, it's not a migraine.”

That did nothing to ease him. “Then what’s wrong?”

“Um… how much do you know about human reproduction?”

He tilted his head, his worry overwritten by blank confusion. Finally he said, “Obviously not enough.”

She managed a dry little chuckle, and gave him what she felt was a pretty decent middle school health class rundown of ovulation and the menstrual cycle. He listened intently, and didn’t interrupt, though he did blink very hard a few times, especially at the part about shed uterine lining.

“Let me guess,” she said when she was done, “that's not how it works for Andorians?”

“No,” he said firmly. He gave her a curious look. “And this happens to every human capable of conception?” he asked. She nodded. “Then why has it not happened to you until now?”

“I had a birth control implant,” she said, trying to sit up. Karveth put a hand on her shoulder to nudge her gently back down. “The hormones paused ovulation, so I didn’t have periods. They don't last forever – only about five years – and I guess I forgot about mine because, well… I can't get pregnant with you.”

“It was obviously serving a useful purpose to prevent this sort of discomfort every month. And this will last for days?”

“Nearly a week,” she confirmed. He looked horrified, and she said, “I won't be in this much pain the whole time. For me at least, the cramps are really just a first day thing. Some people aren’t so lucky.”

He looked at her, pale and grimacing and clutching his pillow. “This is good luck?” He stroked her hair. “What can I do, sh'tal? What do you need?”

“I've already taken some pain meds, but heat helps with the cramps. I've got a heating pad somewhere… maybe in the other bedroom? And I’m, uh… I’m kind of craving something sweet.”

He nodded. “Give me a moment.”

He stood and left; she heard rummaging from the other room, and a few moments later, he returned with the heating pad and the heavy quilt she usually kept on the couch. He lay the heating pad over her belly, turned it on, and covered her with the blanket. “Now,” he said. “About your craving?”

She let her tastebuds do the talking. “Honestly, hot chocolate sounds amazing.”

“I doubt you are desiring what our beverage synthesizer can provide. I will be back.”

Before she could protest, he was gone, the apartment door closing behind him. Ten minutes later, he reappeared, carrying a takeaway cup from the coffee shop down the street. The scent of hot chocolate filled the bedroom. “Oh, sweetie…” She sat up, accepting the drink from him. He resumed his seat beside her as she sipped.

“Does that help?” he asked.

“It does,” she told him, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “You're so good to me.”

“You deserve all I can do and more.”

When she had finished her hot chocolate, she said, “If I can make another request…”

“Of course.”

“Can I have some cuddles?”

He smiled slightly. “As many as you require.” He slipped under the blanket with her, sliding his arms around her and holding her close to his chest. Snuggling his pillow had served in a pinch, but this was far better. Between the warm cocoa, the heating pad, and her Karveth, she was beginning to feel less dreadful.

“All this pampering is nice,” she said, “but I still think I’m going to be getting my implant renewed. Even if I don’t need it for birth control.” She shot him an uneasy sidelong look. “Does it, um… does it bother you that you can’t get me pregnant?”

“That has never been the purpose of our mating,” he pointed out.

“What if we wanted it to be, some day?”

He met her gaze. “Then it still would not bother me, because if that was what we wanted, I think we would find a way to achieve that desire, one way or another.” He kissed her temple. “But this seems like a topic better discussed when you are not in pain and ill at ease.” She smiled ruefully.

“That's fair.” She closed her eyes. “Thank you, thay'va.”

“Whatever is within my power to ease your pain and give you comfort, I will do. Always.”

She burrowed deeper into his arms. “Mmmmm, so good to me.” The cramps were finally beginning to back off; she could feel herself relaxing, sleep starting to tug at her. She wouldn’t mind resuming her period-free life in the least, but it was nice to have this reminder that whenever she needed him, her r'eysleten would be there for her.

A girl could really get used to this.

[justmeandmysickies]

You're a coward! Pt. 1

The front door opened and Joe threw his Ipad to the side - it toppled to the floor but he didn't care. He sprinted to the living room and as expected, his boyfriend was standing in the hall. All the joy of seeing Nick was immediately put on the back burner as anger, frustration and worry took the wheel.

"Where the fuck have you been?! We are in a relationship, Nick! You can't just disappear off the face of the earth for two weeks!"

Silence.

"Do you even realize how fucking worried I've been? You didn't answer my calls or my texts, your location turned off and Frank said you haven't been at work in days! What the actual fuck were you thinking?!"

More silence. A deafening silence that made Joe's stomach drop.

"God damnit, say something!"

For the first time since Nick had stepped into the apartment he looked directly at Joe.

"Joe, we need to talk."

"You're damn right we do!" Joe yelled. He was furious. Who did Nick think he was? He'd been worried sick for two weeks. Migraines and Nausea had been plaguing him and he had not been able to form a singular coherent thought. Nick could have been dead in a ditch somewhere for all he knew.

Nick stepped further into the room but made a point out of not sitting down so Joe kept standing as well, even though the migraine he was currently dealing with was making it hard to stand. And still there was silence.

"Okay, so talk." Joe said, arms folded in front of his chest as he was looking at Nick expectantly.

"I'm leaving for Australia tomorrow." Nick mentioned that as if he was talking about the weather while Joe felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Joe, I'm leaving. I needed some time to make up my mind, and my decision is final." Once again stated so matter of factly Joe wondered if he had started hallucinating.

"For how long?" He really tried to sound just as nonchalant as Nick but his voice trembled ever so slightly as he spoke and Joe cursed himself for it.

Nick sighed heavily. "Indefinitely, Joe. I'm going back to Australia. I'm going back home and I'll stay there for as long as it feels right. Maybe forever."

Joe had to swallow a retch. There was so much he wanted to say. So many questions, so many things he didn't understand but his body was choosing this moment to revolt and it took him every ounce of strength he had to keep himself in check. So the only thing he did manage to say was a simple "Why?".

Nick sighed again as if Joe was some annoying child asking too many questions. "Listen, I understand this is sudden for you, but as I said, my decision is final. I will be leaving tomorrow. And don't think I haven't been thinking about this, I promise you I have. But I will not be explaining my reasons to you. I need you to just understand."

Joe was a mess. His eyes were stinging with unshed tears, his stomach was trying to turn itself inside out and his head felt like it might explode any second. He was fighting so hard for his composure but this was just getting too much.

"Understand? What exactly do you need me to understand? The fact that you're throwing our relationship away, just like that? I have a right to know why you're willing to give up on us so easily and so fucking suddenly! We were happy! Everything was going great! And all of a sudden you just leave? Actually, you know what? I do understand. You're a coward, Nicholas. A fucking coward! The moment you're happy, the moment our relationship actually gets serious, you make a run for it. And why? Because you're so fucking scared of losing what makes you happy that you just do it yourself. You just throw it away yourself so that you can at least feel like you had some resemblance of control over it. Fuck that, Nick! Do whatever the fuck you want but don't forget: you're not only leaving me, you're leaving all of your friends behind as well. Don't think for one fucking second that any of them are ever going to forgive you if you actually leave just like that."

"Fuck you, Joe! You have no idea what you're talking about! Get off your fucking high horse every once in a fucking while! You think you're so great and have your life under control but the truth is, you're just as miserable as the fucking rest of us. At least I'm doing something about it!" Nick yelled as his hands clenched into fists. His breathing was erratic Joe could see and he felt himself actually take a step back. He'd never seen Nick like this before. Nick had never yelled at him like that. The look in his eyes was nothing short of feral.

Joe wanted to answer, he really did. He wanted to ask Nick if he was serious, if this was really it. He wanted to talk this out. Maybe talk Nick into staying. He wanted to say something, anything. But his body chose this moment to decide that it had had enough. When he opened his mouth to answer, he retched hard and had to slap a hand over his mouth. He turned on his heels and made a beeline for the bathroom, fully aware that the next retch was going to be productive. He dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, just as a torrent of vomit shot out of his mouth. He was panting and gasping for air with each heave as the vomit just kept coming and coming. And even amongst all this he still had the clarity of mind to wonder if Nick was going to come after him. He hoped, he really did.

And then he heard the front door shut.

He wanted to scream and run after Nick. But all he could do right now was puke, while silent tears ran down his cheeks. They might have been tears of exertion or maybe, just maybe, they were tears of pure despair.

[mckiwi]

Oblivescence

Chapter One: It Sounded Like Bone

Read on AO3

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Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Doctor Strange (Movies)

Relationships: Stephen Strange & Wong, Stephen Strange & Original Female Characters, Stephen Strange & The Cloak of Levitation

Characters: Stephen Strange, Wong, Original Female Character(s), The Cloak of Levitation

Words: 2,506

Oblivescence: noun [ob-luh-ves-uh ns] the process of forgetting. 

The human brain has a limit, Stephen of all people should know that. To view those fourteen million futures, he had to sacrifice something. His memories. It started with the first few hundred timelines, a few deaths from Dormammu, neurology facts he'll never need again... but the spell became greedy. Now, he can't remember why his hands hurt.

The words on the page blurred into indistinguishable blobs. Stephen rubbed at his temples as the relentless migraine kept stabbing the back of his eyes with hot ice picks. No matter how much medicine he took or tea he drank, the headache managed to persistently get worse. "Here, drink this," Wong said and placed a cup of tea at his elbow. He squinted blearily at the cup and took it in a shaky grip. 

His face scrunched in disgust, "Are you trying to put me out of my misery permanently?" 

"Complaining doesn't solve anything, you know,” Wong leveled the man with a stern, but fond glare. "You asked for my help in getting rid of your headache. I'm helping you the best I know how."

"And I appreciate it, really, I do." Stephen muttered under his breath, "It does taste horrible though."

"It's not meant to taste good, it's meant to stop the pain." Wong sat down at the table, opposite Stephen, and sipped his tea. He sipped his rather bitter tea absentmindedly, just letting the waves of pain crash over him as they came. So caught up in his own mind, he completely missed Wong’s scrutinizing gaze. "We caught a Kappa yesterday. True or false?" 

He remembered laughing at Wong when the Kappa used its tail to swipe his feet out from under him, causing the man to fall to the ground with a startled 'oof.' But some details were out of place, like a dream. “True,” Stephen answered warily. 

This was a game he and the librarian had made. Stephen had slipped up once, only once, but it was enough for Wong to notice. He'd asked how Master Hayes was doing as the new Master of the London Sanctum, to which Wong informed him Hayes had never even been a candidate for the position. There had once been a time Stephen thought himself to be the most ambitious and stubborn man alive... until he met Wong. Stephen never even stood a chance. He questioned and questioned Stephen until eventually he was forced to confide in the other sorcerer about what happened on Titan. Eventually, Wong was able to work out the problem. 

"On a scale of one to ten, how sure are you?" Wong asked, not letting any clues slip into his expression. 

"Maybe a seven?"

Stephen watched with bated breath as Wong raised a brow at him. 

"Correct,” Wong revealed. Stephen sighed with relief, but he wasn't finished. "What have you had to eat today?" 

Stephen could only answer with a bashful smile. 

Wong's eyes narrowed. 

Stephen started to fiddle with the string of the teabag, his silence all the answer Wong needed. "You didn’t eat yesterday either!” he admonished. 

“I’ve had no appetite for the past three days, Wong! Even the thought of eating makes me nauseous, and this migraine isn’t exactly helping!”

"Well, we know what the cause of your migraine is.”

"Hyperextension of my magic and all those lifetimes’ worth of memories now crammed inside my head, I know. I'm living with it, remember?" Stephen spat, to which Wong cleared his throat in a 'watch your tone’ manner. He took a breath and relented, “Sorry, ‘s just hard.” 

The glare only softened slightly with sympathy, "I hate that you have to go through this, but we both still unfortunately have duties to attend to. I'll have one of the other masters watch over the Sanctum for tonight, but only if you promise to eat, get yourself cleaned up, and sleep at least nine hours."

"Nine?" Stephen exclaimed, gladly taking the distraction by the reigns. "I'm used to going off five, and that's on a good day!"

"You need nine."

"My MD and I beg to differ." 

"Nine."

"Okay, okay. What about seven?"

"Nine!"

"Eight?"

"Nine, quit trying to bargain with me." Wong stood from the table. 

Stephen also stood after a brief dizzy spell, following after Wong. "I'll have you know I've mastered the art of bargaining. But fine, nine hours it is. Having someone watch the sanctum would be appreciated. Thank you." 

"Eat, take a shower, then go to bed,” Wong demanded. 

"Or what?" Stephen protested. 

"Ten."

"Ten?"

"Nine... eight... seven..."

Stephen darted out of the library, absolutely refusing to let Wong finish that countdown. He had only been living at Kamar-Taj for about four months when he'd let Wong reach zero. He woke the next morning and coughed up a frog.

—————

The familiar cashier smiled at him as Stephen walked into the deli, "Hello, Dr. Strange. You want the usual?"

"Hello to you too, Lauren, and yes, I would. How're exams going?" Stephen asked and walked up to the counter. 

The first time he came to this deli, a few weeks after he was promoted to New York Sanctum Master, he was served by a cashier wearing a Columbia University shirt under her uniform's vest. Having graduated from that school himself, Stephen asked what she studied there. Lauren revealed she was still a senior in high school, but would be studying psychology. From there, their friendship blossomed. She knew about his former profession as well as the wreck from the news, but as far as she was concerned, he retired to be an antique collector. He would come at least twice a week and stay after hours to help her with assignments. He even wrote a letter of recommendation for her. Then the blip happened, but she wasn't one of the ones taken. She would be graduating this year, and he couldn't be prouder. 

"They are a pain, I'll be glad when they're over,” Lauren explained as she constructed the pastrami sandwich. 

"That's one thing I definitely don't miss," he chuckled, watching her work. "So when's graduation?"

She smiled proudly, "in two weeks. I've got something for you. Hang on a sec." She walked into the back with a spring in her step. She returned a moment later with an envelope in hand. His eyes widened slightly as he recognized the blue lion mascot printed on the envelope. He opened it, and was met with a card that read:

GARRET AND SONYA ROBINSON

ARE PROUD TO ANNOUNCE THE

GRADUATION OF THEIR DAUGHTER

LAUREN CLAIRE ROBINSON

FROM 

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY

PLEASE SHARE IN THEIR HAPPINESS

ON SATURDAY, JUNE 17, 2023

AT 8 IN THE MORNING

A smile plastered across Stephen's face, "I would be delighted to attend your graduation."

She beamed up at him, "I was hoping you would." 

Another customer came in, and she started to take their order while his sandwich was being toasted. He spaced out between that moment and the next, but heard the crisp snap of carrots being broken. 

It sounded like bone. 

"Where is the Time stone?" Thanos hissed in his ear for the fifth time. Stephen stared up defiantly at him. He heard rather than felt the hammer slam onto his finger. 

He was too tired to scream. 

The hammer moved to his other hand. "Where's the Time stone, Strange? Just tell me, and I'll show you mercy." Stephen shook his head. Thanos narrowed his eyes and barked an order. The hammer was replaced by a cleaver–

This isn't real. None of this actually happened. 

Lauren sliced a tomato, and its juice spilled on the counter. 

Tony, Peter, and Stephen ran away with the Guardians, but far away wasn't far enough for Mind. Blue-eyed Peter stepped over Quill's body and sauntered over to Tony. Mantis was trying desperately to wake up Drax. 

"Kid," a broken and bloodied Tony rasped. 

Thanos nodded, "Do it, my child." Peter smiled and ran the knife across Tony's neck. His mentor fell limply to the ground, clutching at his throat desperately, but inevitably went still. 

Stephen was next. Up close, Stephen could see tears running down Peter's face. He reached up and dried them with a swipe of his thumb, "It'll be okay." The knife was raised to his throat–

The blender made quick work of the fruits inside. 

Vormir had never worked for him. Someone had to love you in order for it to work. Stephen's sacrifice was nothing more than a casualty. He only realized that the second before his skull cracked at the bottom of the cliff.  

"Dr. Strange, are you okay? You've gone kinda pale."

"Yea, I'm good," Stephen deflected expertly, "just got a headache, is all."

"Aww. Well, here's your order." Lauren offered him the bag, and he all but snatched it from her. Her eyes furrowed in concern, having noticed the eagerness. "You're sure you're okay?"

"Yep, thanks.” He laid the money on the counter and exited the deli, portaling straight to the bathroom as soon as he was out of view to vomit.  

—————

The pounding in his head was growing stronger, now seemingly in time with his heartbeat. It was all he could do to focus on breathing and try not to squirm from where he lay in bed.  The Cloak, wanting to help its master in any way it could, adjusted the blankets around him and draped a cold cloth across his forehead. 

"Cloak, can you get the Excedrin? It's in a red and white box." 

The Cloak ruffled his hair in confirmation and flew into the bathroom. It came back a moment later with a small box. 

"That's Levocetirizine. It's for allergies, good try though." 

The Cloak did its best impression of a huff then fluttered back into the bathroom. When it returned, it brought the Excedrin as well as a glass of water. 

"Thanks.” 

He swallowed the pill and laid back down, waiting for the pain to subside, even if it was only slightly. The Cloak returned to his side, its collar rubbing his head while the rest of it spread over his body like a blanket. 

He could've been lying there for hours. It could've been minutes. Maybe he was asleep, maybe he was awake. Was he dead, or was he alive? None of that mattered.

"Hey, you said one out of fourteen million, we win, yeah? Tell me this is it," Tony asked, removing his faceplate. 

Stephen shouldn't tell him, but the man expected to save the universe deserved to know. "It is. I'm sorry Tony, truly, I am, but you have to snap before Thanos." 

Tony stared at him, but he couldn't quite tell if it was from horror or disbelief. 

The battle raged on, and Thanos got the stones. Tony saw Pepper and hesitated. Thanos snapped. Dust filled the air–

The Time stone activated. 

"Hey, you said one out of fourteen million, we win, yeah? Tell me this is it," Tony asked, removing his faceplate. 

Stephen couldn't tell him. “If I tell you what happens, it won't happen." 

Tony stared at him out of disbelief and quite possibly irritation. "You better be right."

An explosion of purple and pink. The sky was torn apart like cheap wrapping paper, revealing a giant purple eye that still haunted Stephen's every waking hour. The troops, both Thanos' and their own, were mere toy soldiers compared to the powerhouse that was Dormammu. Death was imminent.

Stephen woke up shivering. 

The Cloak's offered glass of water was an oasis to his dry mouth. The sheets were soaked with sweat. He couldn't tell the difference between daydreams and nightmares anymore, they had become one and the same. Still clothed in a worn t-shirt and joggers, he stood in the cold shower with his head against the chilling tile. The Cloak stood guard right outside the door with a towel and a change of clothes waiting for him. "Thanks," Stephen mumbled and got dressed. 

Before the thought had even fully formed, he was portaling to the closest liquor store. Whatever logical part of his mind still existed scolded him for this terrible idea. Then again, it wasn't the logical part of his mind that dreamt of curses and terrors to plague him. 

Or maybe it was. 

The wind tasseled his damp hair as he walked along the street to the store. The Cloak had demanded to come with him, so he let it act as a scarf. It was midnight in New York, he wasn't stupid enough to have late-night adventures without it. (He'd been mugged once, he wasn't going through that experience ever again if he could help it.) 

The store was, to his surprise, still open. He scavenged the aisles until he found what he was after... whisky. He wanted– no, needed– to get drunk as quickly as possible. He made his purchase with no difficulty, thank the Vishanti, and returned home promptly. 

He forgot the way alcohol burned. He sipped at the drink in small increments at first, letting himself get used to the sensation again. It wasn't long before he was taking entire mouthfuls of the poison and downing it. 

He set the bottle on the table with a thud. His vision was swimming at this point, no doubt the alcohol was kicking in. He laid his head down on the table. The wood felt frigid to his flushed face as he waited for darkness to take him. He vaguely realized it was already ten in the morning at Kamar-Taj, so an unexpected visit from Wong was entirely possible. He drank until only half of the bottle remained. 

Sluggishly, he started to clean up any traces of his escapade. The Cloak helped guide him back to his room, where he unceremoniously flopped down on the bed, happily letting the darkness take him under. 

The Metro-General Hospital smelt of metallic and chemicals. Every television was showing the news. Aliens were real, apparently, and they were currently blowing up New York. Stephen was performing surgery when the attacks started. He finished about two hours into the attack, but the ER was being overrun. His twelve-hour shift had at some point turned into eighteen and counting. 

An ambulance pulled up with a young couple. The woman was crying out for her husband, and Stephen took her away before she could notice the man’s still chest. He tried to reassure her, but empathy had never been his strong suit. 

She had several cuts and burns littered over her body, like she climbed out of a crumbled building. He took her into a room and got to work on removing the glass shards embedded in her skin, all the while she fought him. There were no anesthesiologists around from what he could tell, so putting her to sleep was out of the question. He somewhat hoped she would simply pass out from the pain. The hustle and bustle, screams and cries, blood and gore only added to the already tense atmosphere. 

"Why won't you let me see him?" the woman pleaded. Stephen was about to explain with the usual 'we're trying our best to handle the situation' before she practically screamed in his ear, "Why won't you let me die? Why won't you just let me forget it all?”

Instead of a scream, Stephen woke up with a smile slowly spreading on his lips. A smile, and the beginnings of a plan.