#I swear it’s blurrier than usual

[bellarkeandclintashaandsuch]

Does Hidden Agenda look fuzzy to anyone else? Are they doing this blurry thing on purpose? Because some things are clear and some things seem fuzzy. Have people already talked about this? Do I just need to see an eye doctor? Or is it just YouTube’s quality? Is it my computer? I feel like it’s mostly when Joke and Zo are together and mainly in wide shots and shots of Zo. Is it just me? But it keeps happening, so I’m over here like, maybe it’s when Joke is pretending to help Zo but is really flirting, so it’s duplicitous and it’s like he’s hiding behind a smoke screen? Or maybe things will get clearer when there’s no more hidden agenda and they’re actually dating on purpose? Or maybe Zo is in a daze around Joke and can’t think straight. Or maybe my eyes aren’t working?

[applesaucesims]

After work, Niall took his car a bit further than usual, following Franklin to his home that he shared with Laura. He needed somebody to talk to about his doubts, and Franklin was the one who understood the topic the most of all.

Once inside, Franklin led his friend to a sitting room and lit the fireplace. Niall's eyes immediately jumped to a bottle of whisky that had been placed on a small table in just the right position to have a relaxing night of drinking on the couch. Although he had been trying to stay away from alcohol, Franklin seemed to be making a good point that he could just have a sip or two. Surely that could not cause any issues.

After a number of whisky glasses that Niall had lost count of quite early on, he slowly opened up to Franklin about the worries he had about Louis. He told him about the dream that his son had told him about, and how that had released feelings of doubt he had been pushing away rather than working on them.

As he listened to Franklin's words of encouragement, Niall felt his head getting heavier and the world around him seemed to be getting blurrier by the minute. Suddenly, his body seemed to act on autopilot, and he pulled his friend in for a kiss, just as he was about to turn away from him.

Thankfully, though, Franklin pushed him away immediately. They might have been together like that in the past, but that was all it was - the past. Neither of them actually still had any feelings for the other, and they had moved on a long time ago.

Bringing some distance between them, Niall scooted away in embarrassment. In doing so, his eyes fell to the photograph of Franklin's partner, Maxim, whom he had actually introduced him to, and then, just above, another photograph of himself with Emma, his wife. What was he even doing here? Was it really that easy for him to slip into old habits and make it worse at that? What would she say if she saw him like this now?

[TRANSCRIPT]

Franklin: "So, may I offer you a drink? Let me just light the fireplace."

Niall: "Erm... what sort of drink?"

Franklin: "You still like whisky?"

Niall: "Uhm... technically... but I haven't had one in ages."

Franklin: "Really? I can't imagine."

Niall: "I swear! I haven't had alcohol since... some time after Louis was born?"

Franklin: "Maybe that's why you're so stressed out."

Niall: "I mean... I can't say it isn't."

Franklin: "Right, surely one glass won't kill you. To take the edge off, you know?"

Niall: "Right."

...

Franklin: "So, you're worried because of a dream?"

Niall: "You're gonna tell me it doesn't mean anything, aren't you?"

Franklin: "Maybe not, but either way... That's got nothin' to do with you in the end, does it?"

Niall: *sighs* "I don't know. I guess I just hate to face that part of myself."

Franklin: "You're never gonna find peace that way, Niall."

Niall: "I know. And I love Emma so much, but thinking about this makes me feel like a fraud." *hic*

Franklin: "That's ridiculous. You just like both, and most of all you like her. It's that simple."

Niall: "Easy *hic* for you to say."

Franklin: *laughs* "How are you this drunk already? I need to catch up! Let me just top up my glass and- Mh!"

Franklin: "Niall, stop! What the fuck are you doing!?"

Niall: "I- I don't know."

Franklin: "That's enough drinking for you then."

Niall: "I'm so sorry! I don't know what's come over me!"

Franklin: "You really need to start properly working through this shit. I'll help you if you need me to, but I'm not here for you to fool around with for some distraction."

Niall: "I know, I don't even want that from you. You know this."

Niall: "I'm so stupid! I never should have come here. I tell you, this thing is causing nothing but trouble in my life."

Franklin: "Look, it's fine. Just figure yourself out. Your damned sexual preferences are not the issue here."

Niall: "Right. I'll- I'll try my best. Thanks for the talk."

[duskrosecreatesstuff]

What if ...

... your Tav was blind. At least, partially. This came from an idea on Twitter some time ago, and it's taken me long enough to polish up because I've fallen heavily into this idea. To the point of having come up with a whole backstory, including assistive magics that help them navigate the world, and ultimately having rolled them up as a character in BG3. I've got notes on how certain other scenes would play out, so there may be more to this in the future. For now, have their take on how to read Astarion's scars. (Dialogue is lifted directly from the game.)

You stood from your seat on the log by the fire, linking your fingers together and stretching your arms out in front of you.  With a roll of your shoulders you peered carefully around.  The night seemed dull, the shadows were blurrier, so you decided to err on the side of caution, and waved your hand in the motion to cast your Weave mapping.  You waited a moment or two for the faint purple matrix to settle over the contours of the campsite, before moving to take your usual evening walk.

As you neared Astarion’s tent, you noticed him fidgeting, and could hear him muttering to himself, something about some letters.  As you got closer, you could make out his arm twisted behind his back.

“What damned language is this?” he muttered, his fingers splayed out over his scars.

You paused, knowing he probably wasn’t expecting an answer, but you gave one anyway.  “I thought you didn’t care what Cazador wrote on your back.”

He flinched, spinning around to face you.  “Ah! There you are.  I admit, I got curious.”  

“Ah.  Well, sorry to bother you.  I’ll leave you alone.” you apologised and turned to go.

“Wait - I’m sorry.  You caught me by surprise, that’s all. I’ve been tracing the scars on my back with my fingers, trying to read them by touch, but I can’t.  They may as well be written in Rashemi.”

He was trying to read by touch?  This gave you an idea.  “Would you mind if I tried something?”

“I - this isn’t your problem, you know.”

“I know.  But, I may be able to help read it, if you turn around”

He slowly turned away from you, displaying his back with the raised scars.  You stepped closer to him, raising your hand to reach for his back, but paused, and nervously pulled your hand back.  It hadn’t escaped your notice that when you’d spent the night with him, he had gently redirected your hands away from his back.  You hadn’t known why at the time, but once you learned about his scars, it became clear.  He’d wanted to avoid you touching them.

“And? What does it say?” he asked impatiently.

“I’m not sure yet.”

“But you can read it?”

“I can.  But …”

“But? But what?” His voice was getting whiny in frustration.

“I need your consent for what I’m about to do.”

“What? Why?” He twisted to look over his shoulder at you, and you could make out a frown creasing his face.

“I’m mostly blind, remember.  I have some sight, a little more than I used to, thanks to the parasite, but I can’t read normal books anymore.  So I learned to read special books with raised letters.  I learned to read by touch.  Which is why I need your consent.  I’d need to touch you.  To touch your scars.”

“You read … by touch …” he whispered, turning away from you again, and you wished you could make out the look on his face.  A heartbeat passed as he considered your offer.  Two.  Three.

“I - I suppose it couldn’t hurt.” You heard him sigh.  “Go ahead.  Please.”

You lifted your hands to his shoulders and cautiously placed your palms against his skin.  He shivered a little, the warmth of your hands in stark contrast to his coolness.  You ran your hands down to the first marks, and then around, using your palms to trace the outline of the design, to learn the placement of the marks.  You felt him tense beneath your touch, fighting with himself not to pull away from you.  You would swear he almost lost that battle as your fingers trailed down a line that led almost to his hips.  As you began to trace the runes with your fingertips, you recognised the language.

“It’s Infernal” you gasped softly, pulling your hands back reflexively, your claws catching on the raised marks, and scratching lightly against his skin.

“Ah! What the hells are you - wait, did you say Infernal?”

“What language were you expecting?”

“I don’t know.  Not that.”

You dropped your hands to your sides, and frowned.  “Well, now you know.  You will probably want to have Karlach read it for you.“

“But you can read it? You can tell me what it says?”

“I can.  But I felt the tension in your back.  I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are with how I read.” 

His voice was soft when he next spoke.  “It’s … unusual, I’ll admit.  But I trust you.  I want you to read it for me.” He snorted.  “Besides, Karlach would most likely tell me it’s a filthy limerick or some such.”

You smiled, a small huff of laughter escaping you.  “Alright then.  Just … bear with me a moment.”

You carefully traced each rune, your fingertips gliding from one to the next, following the circular patterns.  Your lips moved soundlessly, as your mind translated the shapes into words.  You frowned, running your fingers over it again, to be sure you had it right.  You signed in annoyance.

“Well? Have you puzzled it out?”  he asked softly.  Despite that, you could hear the touch of impatience in his tone.

You sighed. “It’s not a poem, that’s for sure. A pact, maybe?  It talks about ‘the fires below’, there’s mention of some kind of oath, and beyond that, it’s just fragments.  Whatever this is, this is only a part of it.”

You let your hands fall away from his back, and you twined your fingers together as he turned back towards you.

“An infernal pact?” he pondered, his tone thoughtful.  “But not even the whole text?  What was that bastard up to?”

“You really have no idea what this is?”

“None at all … But if this is part of a contract, it must be powerful.  Or valuable.  Or both.  No wonder he wants me back.  What have I run off with …”

“If this is part of a contract, where’s the rest?”

“I wasn’t his only spawn.  And he tortured us all - I imagine each of us are carrying a piece of this infernal contract.  But what could a devil have offered Cazador?  He had wealth, power, control - what more could you want?”

You didn’t miss the way he spat the words out - wealth, power, control.  His desire, his jealousy was clear. 

“Disappointed?”

Astarion shook his head.  “Perplexed.  This was a surprise, and Cazador’s surprises are never good.  Then again, even he couldn’t know I’d be kidnapped.  Whatever he planned, it’s gone wrong.  Which gives us an advantage.”

Us. You winced at his use of the word, certain he didn’t mean to include you in whatever scheme he was planning.  You knew full well that you were no one’s first choice for help.  Not anymore

“We should tell the others, They might be able to help”

“No! No, let’s keep this between ourselves.  At least until we know what it means.”

“Alright.” you agreed.  Keeping his secrets was something you could certainly do.  After all, it felt like you were doing that for almost everyone in camp.  You turned to leave, but paused as he spoke up once more.

“Thank you, by the way.  This is … well, it’s something.”

You turned your head to throw a smile back over your shoulder at him. “Don’t mention it.” 

“Given the subject matter, I probably won’t.”

[musingsbydeepo]

The Trojan War from Above

genre: i have no idea LMAO, oneshot ig?

description: Percy, Thalia and Nico ascend to Olympus to seek help from the gods for Percy's Trojan War project.

notes: hera reconciled with the demigods after TOA so they're cool now, most of the gods are pretty much casual with the saviors of olympus, post-TOA

warnings: none i can see, but lmk if you catch something via asks or dms!

word count: 1,157

"Professor Paulin assigned us a project, and we need your help."

Percy's voice boomed all across the throne room, while the Olympians -- except for Zeus, which was momentarily replaced by the Zeus Rock™ that was sitting on the King of Heaven's throne in the center of the room.

"Um, ok?"

"Son, what kind of help do you mean-"

"Anything to help Sally Jackson the Great's son!"

"It feels rather gratifying that you approach us - and I mean me, of course - rather than my daughter-"

"Well, unless you've come to do a project on agriculture, I'm afraid I can't-"

"Hard pass, Peter Johnson."

"Ugh, is it that puny punk who saved us from being dethroned again? I swear he's here every week for dinner-"

"Oh my, it's the male lead of the most romantic story of all time!"

"You're exaggerating again, Ditey."

"Am not!"

"Well, this should be interesting."

"Oh, it's that kid who set off my alarms in that god-awful amusement park - get it, god-awful? 'Cause we're gods?"

"Hello, hero."

"Hi, Aunt Hera." Percy glanced back at his friends for support. Thalia gave him a thumbs up while Nico simply shrugged. Somehow that simple movement expressed sorry man you're on your own. "Um, so we -- I mean I -- have to retell the Trojan War in my words. Except I don't really have enough concrete evidence to completely retell the story, so I was hoping you could...um...supply the missing and perhaps the blurrier parts?"

"You'd think I blessed Homer enough to accurately narrate that war, but noooo he just had to skip the start. Ugh." Apollo complained, holding the back of his hand to his forehead, then sat up abruptly. "Actually, you'd think the Greeks were living in peace, but noooo you vain goddesses just had to fight over your looks. Double ugh."

"As if you're not vain, Apollo!" Aphrodite protested, her fist clenched on the armrest of her throne.

"Yeah, but that was before I became Lester. And please, if we're not in a formal situation do call me Lester. Now can we make this quick, I have to visit Aeithales later."

"Can we please return to the situation at hand? My son is in dire need of our help!" Poseidon redirected the counsel's attention to Percy, who felt increasingly small as 11 pairs of eyes turned to him once more, 12 if you include the sunglasses his dad had put on the Zeus Rock™.

"Okay, so, uh I've got notebooks here and stuff, if you could just write down what you know-"

"Um, Percy? One teensy little problem?" Thalia tapped her friend and cousin's shoulder lightly. When Percy turned to her, she said, "New Rome U needs you to cite a source. I know NRU is pretty lax about the gods and whatever, but Prof Paul is mortal. He's not just sweep this under the carpet if your paper says 'source: Olympian Gods'."

Everyone's shoulders slumped as they took this in consideration. Even the Zeus Rock™ seemed to slip slightly lower on its throne.

"I have a solution to that." Athena announced, and everyone let out a sigh of relief. From thin air, she summoned a leather-bound book. The cover was branded and gold-leafed with The Trojan War from Above by Athena Chase, PhD, EdD, EngD, DProf, DArch, ThD, DDiv, ScD, LitD. "If everyone here could just lend me their memories about that war -- and no, Apollo, I'm not asking you to give up your memories, I'm asking you to share, which you should be familiar with now." She shot down her brother, who was starting to raise his hand.

For a few beats the entire throne room was silent, which was probably the quietest it had been since the completion of the dodecatheon. Even Bessie the Ophiotaurus kept to himself, though he usually mooed, hence the very rare silence of the Olympian throne room.

"Alright, here it is. Godly knowledge about the Trojan War condensed in a portable book. Pretty hefty, huh?"

"Um, Theney, wouldn't it be...unwise to share such knowledge with mortals? We're revealing secrets here. Doesn't that go against everything you stand for?" Ares huffed. "Besides, I should be the one offering this to you, punk. I'm the god of war, after all."

"I'm a god of war too! And besides, as long as none of you included your personal comments, it should be fine. You didn't include any right? Right?"

Silence. Again.

The three demigod were having a silent conversation using sign language -- a habit they picked up from Hearthstone, one of Annabeth's cousin Magnus's friends. The were huddled closely to each other, so that the gods couldn't see their hands.

Am I seeing right? Is that Chase on the cover? Nico signed, his eyes bewildered.

I think so. I see it too. Thalia replied.

Should we let Annabeth know? Percy asked, his teeth clenched. I mean, she's always wanted this. A complete family. She... Percy faltered. I saw it when we passed by the sirens, years ago. This could either make or break her day, maybe even her life.

Annabeth's not that dumb, Percy. Thalia scoffed as she signed.

Yeah but- Percy's sign was cut short by Athena's voice.

"Normally I would request to redo this, but it's getting late and we all have plans. Here you go, Perseus. I ask you to be careful, this book can very well start another war if it's in the wrong hands." The book flew towards the demigods' general direction, and Percy leaped to catch it.

"Uh, thank you, my lady. I'll uh, make you guys proud and get a good score on this project! Please send my regards to Grammy." Percy bowed along with Thalia and Nico. They were about to leave when Apollo shrank down to human size, simultaneously transforming his toga to jeans and a t-shirt, and patted Percy on the back.

"I'll go with you guys, I'm going to Meg's." He pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket and handed them to Percy. The frames were gold and engraved with literary and solar symbols. "This should help with reading your book. If you're ever in need of help to express yourself in this project, hit me up. God of literature at your service! Just don't call when I'm with Meg, alright?"

Percy hadn't even considered his dyslexia. He accepted the glasses with a thankful smile and said, "Uh, thanks LA." I probably won't need -- or want -- your help anyway, he added inwardly.

"No prob."

"Oh, what's this?" Annabeth picked up a book from Percy's shelf. She had never seen this book before, and it seemed expensive, what with the leather cover and gold embossing.

The Trojan War from Above by Athena Chase, PhD, EdD, EngD, DProf, DArch, ThD, DDiv, ScD, LitD

Annabeth only knew one person -- well, not exactly a person -- with those doctorates.

"Mom," she whispered.

sources: Zeus Rock™ HC, Percy calling Rhea Grammy HC and Trojan War project HC from @caffeinatedflumadiddlebutpjo; i saw an HC where Percy asks how to cite The Olympians as a veritable source but i'm not sure if it's from caffeinatedflumadiddlebutpjo as well but if you know where it's from please let me know i beg you; pretty yellow dividers from @skylightlantern

[monsterfuneral]

the vampiric pros and cons | the lost boys

Relationship: Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader

Summary: One year anniversaries were always important, it was a mark of a year long commitment to one someone or something but what happens when your four someone’s seem to forget?

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, the reader has a breakdown, the boys being dumb, fluff, swearing.

Words: 3.3k

Author’s Note: I hope you like this as much as I liked writing it, thank you very much anon for the request  <3 

Idk what is giving me this 3k word juice but I really enjoy it

REQUESTS OPEN 

(please read my “I do NOT write” section before sending in anything <3)

---

There were pros and cons of being a human. One very important con being time perception, whether it be what time you had to be at work, what year it was, or even what special occasion fell on what day. Time was something your very undead boyfriends hadn’t had to deal with in decades, while they attempted to adjust to your much more human life it did come with difficulty, which today just proves how much. With your eyes flitting from the mirror to the clock on your nightstand and back to your reflection, you couldn’t help but let out a slow sigh. They were an hour late. 

While at first you assumed at least one of them- Dwayne- would be able to keep track, that thought now seemed futile. You knew that as a vampire you didn’t have to stress over something as trivial as time management, especially since they quite literally had forever to do something. But you couldn’t deny it hurt every time you watched the clock tick by without any signs of revving engines outside your apartment complex. You couldn’t deny that it stung when they seemed to have forgotten your one year anniversary. 

Your eyes locked back onto your reflection’s, looking over your outfit for probably the thirtieth time. While you weren’t wearing some fancy ball gown and your hair wasn’t perfectly styled, it was a lot more effort you put in your everyday appearance. You had switched out your worn leather jacket for a fancier, seemingly spotless one. You even put on your best pants, not a rip in sight, along with a pair of black combat boots that looked brand new. The effort probably wasn’t worth it knowing the boys would probably be dressed in their regular clothes, which you didn’t mind, but thinking about that now it made you feel slightly ridiculous for even caring so much.

With another glance at the clock on your nightstand you felt a harsh pang in your chest, 1:21am it read in big red blocky numbers, they were supposed to pick you up at twelve. You tried to keep the tears at bay but the more you stared at the clock the blurrier the numbers got. Was it stupid to have put hope in them in the first place? Could you really blame them? You knew what you were signing up for, so why were you getting so upset?

You brought your hands up to your face and sniffled, wiping the tears away rather harshly. 

“Fuck.” More tears slipped from your eyes in retaliation and you let out a groan, realizing just what you had to do. You walked over to the chair in the corner of your room, one that served more as a laundry hamper rather than something to sit on, and plucked your bag from top of the pile searching for your keys. 

If they weren’t going to come here then you were going to come to them, and you were not happy. 

---

You white-knuckled your steering wheel the whole drive to the bluff, music playing low on your radio yet still feeling all too loud. Even though they had forgotten you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault. But that was ridiculous right? You had reminded them almost every night and they had seemed to be listening, did you just not try hard enough or did they really just not care?

The tears were pooling again, blurring the lines on the road before they morphed into dirt and you were finally parked at the rickety wooden stairs leading down to the cave. You shut the car off and just sat for a few seconds trying to level your breathing. You glanced at your wristwatch and it read 1:53am, you couldn’t suppress the growl that crawled up your throat. After everything you did for them, after all the times you reminded them, they fucking forgot. 

With that in mind you threw the rusty car door open and slammed it shut, your fists clenching beside your thighs before you drew your jacket closer to shield yourself from the ocean breeze. You stomp down the creaky stairs, angrily muttering to yourself before coming up to the gate entrance and slipping inside, careful not to snag your jacket like you’ve done many times before. 

You walked through the tunnel leading towards the flickering light coming from the candles and metal barrels. It usually warms you from the inside out but in this moment all you felt was cold. There was no smile growing on your face, no hands guiding you carefully so you didn't bust your ass on the way down, no whooping vampires flying overhead. It was silent inside the cave. Nobody was here. They must have been out feeding. That thought only served to enrage you even more.

Of course they had time to remember their own needs but not yours when it was your anniversary? You hadn’t even asked for much either, all you wanted was to go down to the beach and have a cute little night-time picnic with them, a bonfire lit off to the side and all of you having a great time, that’s all you wanted. 

You couldn’t help but once again feel like you were overreacting, was it really their fault for forgetting? While they certainly weren’t perfect when it came to remembering everything, at least they tried. But what stopped them from trying this time? Stop over thinking so much. Did they still care for you or did they lose interest? You’re being ridiculous. You felt tears begin to streak down your cheeks once again, the frustration building more and more. 

When you plopped down onto the couch a small puff of dust followed, clouding around your hips as you cradled your head pathetically and cried into the palms of your hands, very certain the makeup you had put on earlier in the night had been fully cried off. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been sitting on the couch after your last tear dropped, but it felt like hours. Your body felt vacant of all emotion, your eyes locking onto the flickering candle sat atop the fountain, it held all of your focus as it danced and swayed with the occasional breeze that would push itself inside the cave. The fluttering of wings sounded so much louder now too with it being so quiet, Marko’s pigeons flying back and forth every now and then. Your head didn’t even lift up when you heard the distant whoops of your vampiric partners. The anger was now completely washed away and was replaced with a cold nothingness, all emotions having been exhausted from your body when it had been racking with sobs. 

The fluttering of clothes sounded overhead when they finally flew inside, circling the top of the cave before finally realizing there was an unmoving figure sat upon their couch. David was the first to touch down, cold blue eyes staring at you with concern as you just continued to stare ahead at the flickering candle. His heavy steps echoed off the cave walls as he drew closer saying your name gently as if it would break you to say it louder. If you were being completely honest with yourself, it probably would have. 

David kneeled down in front of you and carefully placed a hand on your knee which you moved slowly away from. He raised a brow and looked back at the other three, Marko was chewing on his thumb nail, closely watching the scene in front of him unfold. 

“Kitten?” David’s voice was probably the softest you ever heard, his eyes locking with yours once you were finally jolted from your daze “Hey are you okay?” You almost felt guilty, he looked so worried even with how little he showed it on his face, it was in his eyes. 

“Babe what’s wrong? Did someone do somethin’ to you?” Paul chimed, stepping closer to the couch cautiously. You still didn’t speak, mind still in a thick fog. “Babe?” Paul sounded worried too and you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head up to look at him.

“I think something’s wrong guys.” Marko said from where he stood behind David. 

Paul let out a scoff “Yeah no shit, man.” You could practically hear him roll his eyes. 

Finally your mouth opened, prying your chapped lips apart and muttered a raspy “You forgot.” It felt like the littlest bits of energy were finally sinking back into your skin, allowing you to lift your head and look at your four worried boyfriends. “You forgot about our anniversary.” 

Their eyes widened almost comically after hearing you say that. A groan coming from Marko as he threw his head back, fingers knitting through his perfect curls “I told you guys there was something wrong tonight! I knew we forgot something!” Paul let out a long sigh and leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Dwayne finally got closer and kneeled himself down next to David. 

“Hey sweetheart…” He whispered, reaching out to gently take your hand in his colder one “We are so sorry. You gotta understand that we wouldn’t do this to you on purpose.” He squeezed your hand gently, looking back at the others. You knew that if you had any more tears left you would have probably started crying again. “We’re so sorry that we hurt you like this…” He brought his hand up to your chin and lifted your head up so he could look you in the eye standing up and bending over to bring his face closer to yours “Please let us make it up to you.” His hair was veiling over your face as he leaned in, almost shielding you from the outside world, his chilled lips met your cheek softly delivering the gentlest kiss you’ve probably ever received. 

“Yeah babe please let us make it up to you.” Paul practically begged. You turned your head stiffly to look at him, seeing how frantic he almost looked. 

“Would you like that?” Dwayne asked, voice soft as if he was telling you a secret. You couldn’t deny the tug on your heart when looking into his dazzling brown eyes, the desperation to earn your forgiveness all too evident. 

“Okay…” You whispered back, afraid to speak any louder.

---

The bonfire in front of you danced with the ocean breeze, a breeze that softly weaved through your hair and would have made you shiver if it wasn’t for the blanket David wordlessly wrapped around your shoulders. He sat next to you staring into the amber flames too, the yellows and oranges lighting his face up beautifully. The hollowness from your breakdown was finally beginning to melt away, a small smile creasing your lips before bitterly falling again.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered quietly, but not quietly enough as the rest of the group raised their heads and voiced their curiosity of what the hell you were apologizing for. “I was being a drama queen.” You chuckled humorlessly “You guys have told me so many times how hard it is to manage time as a vampire and I still got so worked up over something so stupid.” 

Marko was the first to shake his head and voice his opinion “Hell no, you’re not going to feel sorry for something that isn’t even your fault!” You looked at him from over the fire, his expression hardened “It’s us who should be sorry- who are sorry- not you. I’m not letting you blame yourself because you’re dating a set of dumbasses.” Paul nodded in agreement, not even trying to start some childish argument for being called a dumbass. 

“And it’s not stupid either. We’ve been together for a whole year, which is a long time to commit yourself to one person, let alone four vampires.” Dwayne chimed, soothing your remaining guilt. You gave him a grateful smile while David pulled you closer to him, arm slung around your shoulder and letting you lean against him.  

Silence had settled over the five of you again for a good ten seconds before you heard Paul yelp, making you jump. Marko had him pinned to the sand, their bodies both flailing as they wrestled. “Oh your ass is grass pipsqueak!” Paul threatened when Marko flew up into the air, Paul following closely, some sand falling back onto the ground below. David shook his head and chuckled as he watched the two rambunctious blondes play fight, growling and hissing at each other. 

“Children...” He muttered playfully smirking at you when you giggled. 

“Come on up guys!” Marko called a few feet above the fire, Paul pulling harshly on his hair making the shorter blonde let out a yelp of his own. 

“Yeah, how does it feel asshole!?” They pushed each other, flying in opposite directions before colliding again.

“Paul I will fucking dunk you in the ocean!” Marko threatened. 

David squeezed your side a little tighter “You wanna go for a ride princess?” He asked, eyes still locked on Paul and Marko. 

You felt yourself start to smile “Yeah I want some front row seats to this.” You shrugged the blanket from your shoulders and handed it to Dwayne who took it without a word. 

David gave you an encouraging squeeze before helping you stand up and kneeling down a little so you can jump onto his back. He tightened his grip on the backs of your thighs and told you to hold on tight, which you did. He slowly rose from the ground and you let out an excited giggle next to his ear, having gotten used to the heights of flying a long time ago. Marko and Paul’s petty argument got louder as you both got closer, they were punching and kicking and even clawing at each other like feral alley cats. 

“I’ll tie you to a tree and leave you there, fucking test me.” Paul seethed, you would have thought he was serious if you hadn’t known them, plus the wide smile on his face was an immediate giveaway. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah!” 

You squeezed your arms tighter around David’s neck and muttered next to his ear “I bet you ten vinyls Marko completely wastes Paul.” 

David let out a quiet snort and turned his eyes over to you “You’re on. If you lose you have to sleep over at the cave for a whole week.” You rolled your eyes at the counter before he continued “Let’s just say you won’t be getting much sleep if I win a kitten.” He winked at you and turned his head back just in time for Marko to grab a hold of Paul’s jacket harshly and began flying towards the ocean so fast you could barely see them. 

Paul screamed before hitting the water, not being able to catch himself as he was catapulted into the waves. He came to the surface with a string of colorful curses being thrown at Marko who was cackling loudly just above him, curling in on himself as he shook, looking as if he was laying down in midair. When Paul rose from the water you could practically see the steam rolling off of him as he grabbed Marko and brought him underwater. You were glad they were dead because Paul was literally forcing Marko to stay underwater while he laughed, traunting the curly haired blonde, watching as he thrashed the water around frantically. 

When Marko surfaced he let out a growl and was about to give Paul the same treatment but David calling out to them drew his attack short. “Come on boys! We don’t have time for your little drowning session, the sun’s gonna be up soon!” 

“You owe me ten records.” You pat David’s chest triumphantly and he hummed in response. 

“I guess I do.” He turned his head to the side and gave you a slow kiss, one that made your heart flutter in your chest and your cheeks heat up. 

Paul and Marko flew up slowly, Dwayne joining the four of you as well with your blanket still in his arms. The two blondes looked like wet dogs as they tried to shake the water from their hair, effectively spraying all of you with water. 

“Hey watch the jacket!” You half teased, wiping the droplets off onto David’s jacket which made him shake his head in slight annoyance. “You’ve had this jacket for years calm down.” 

---

The fly back to the cave wasn’t a long one, five minutes or less, but David knew you didn’t feel like walking all the way back and honestly neither did he. So the wind blew your hair from your face as he and the boys weaved playfully past each other, laughing and calling out into the night sky. You finally felt like yourself again, all the previous emotional exhaustion now replaced with a simmering happiness in your chest. You were still harboring a little anger at being so easily forgotten but that was a conversation for another night, right now you just wanted to enjoy yourself, flying through the sky without a care in the world before finally touching down on the cave floor next to the fountain. Most of the candles that were still lit before you all left had been blown out while you were gone. You looked around and watched as the boys all settled down, Marko lighting the barrels again and setting the torch inside to burn too. 

You settled yourself back down on the couch between Dwayne’s legs, his back against the arm of the sofa. He threw an arm over your chest and held you against him, settling a few soft kisses on your cheek. “You feeling like sleeping here tonight sweetheart?” noticing as you attempted to stifle a yawn. 

“Oh are we having a sleepover.” Paul teased with a wiggle of his brows. He leaned over the back of the sofa and tried to kiss you but a strand of his still wet hair smacked you in the face making you groan. 

“How are you still wet.” You chuckled, peeling the wet strand from your right cheek moving it behind his ear. 

“Blame it on that douchebag chihuahua.” He sent a playful glare in Marko’s direction who yelled out a defensive “Hey!” in response. 

You looked down at your watch and muttered a quiet ‘jesus christ’ at the time, 4:39am. You hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten, the night seemingly passing by in a haze while they were gone. 

Dwayne moved your hair over to your right shoulder “You can go ahead and sleep sweetheart.” His voice was soft in your ear, lips brushing against your neck as he kissed your neck softly. “I can take you to your nest, tuck you in and shit.” He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your back. You turned over on your side and snuggled closer to the tall vampire, your face buried in his neck.

The night may have had a much more than rocky start but in the end you were happy. You couldn’t stay mad at them, especially when they didn’t truly mean to hurt you. It was a mistake and they made up for it and will probably continue to do so for weeks. You knew what you were getting yourself into when they told you what they were, and you loved them even when the cons sometimes outweigh the pros, you were willing to go to the ends of the world for them and they were more than willing to do the same.  

---

Paul getting absolutely fucking dunked was inspired by the amazing @tweedracer​

Links to their stories here, please read them they’re amazing: 

POLY! LOST BOYS x HIPPIE VIBES READER by Tweetracer

[speechlessxx]

extremely wicked.

[dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Summary: After abandoning your ex-fiancé during his murder trial, he seeks you out for revenge. 

Warnings: drug use (prescribed tho), language, i could’ve made ransom a little darker but i chicked out, shitty writing, mild violence, mistakes probably 

Word Count: ~1.6k, a bit on the shorter side. 

i originally planned for smut but i pussied out (as usual)

Buy me a Ko-Fi - donations are unnecessary but GREATLY appreciated. 

You were fear stricken as the harsh winds blew against the tree, causing the branches to scrape against your front window. The screeching of wood against glass accompanied by the shadows left you paralyzed with wide eyes.

The advice the FBI agent told you still hung in the air – advice you should’ve heeded to, but you were always stubborn. “It’s unsafe for you, miss,” he told you and now you cursed yourself for being so dismissive of his concern.

You pried your eyes away from the window after a few long moments, staring at the brightly lit television screen that burned your tired eyes. The mindless sitcom proved to be a short-lived distraction as the show abrupted ended to deliver news. The broadcast did nothing to ease your anxiety, but every time you’d change the channel, you were met with the same story:

Breaking News: Serial Killer, Hugh Ransom Drysdale, at Large.

His mugshot was front and center as the anchorman warned the public to not approach him. “It’s unknown if Drysdale is armed, but he’s most certainly dangerous”.

You felt the color drain from your face as you continued to stare at the photograph.

The same pair of blue eyes stared tauntingly back at you. They were colder than you remembered. The smirk on his face was as charming as the day you met. Charming yet cynical.

A loud snap! pulled you from your thoughts, causing you to let out a small yelp. Your eyes immediately searched your surroundings as your breathing picked up slightly. The branch that hung over your window had fallen. The shadow and its silhouette were gone, leaving you a clear view of the full moon in the grey night sky.

You pressed your hand against your chest as you tried to steady your breath. Inhale, exhale… you thought to yourself. Inhale… exhale. You felt your heartbeat against your sternum, thumping against the bone as if it wanted to escape like the man who once stole your heart.

Your fear wasn’t misplaced. You had every right to be afraid.

It was your fault he was imprisoned after all.

The images of the women’s bodies flashed through your mind ever so often. During the trial, photographs of the cadavers were shown to the jury and audience. The audible gasps that were heard throughout the entire courtroom was almost as haunting as the very images that burned through your skull. You dabbed away at the tears as Ransom and his team of lawyers – the “most elite” group that Linda could buy just before disowning her son – congregated in the small office, coming up with a strategy. Ransom looked over at you before dismissing his team to “comfort” you.

It was then you gave back the engagement ring, telling him you couldn’t do this anymore. Despite Ransom’s insistence on his innocence, the evidence was stacking up against him. He looked guiltier and guiltier each day – even you doubted him. No matter how much you loved him, you wanted no part of this trial.

It was then he grabbed you. With a hand to your throat, squeezing the life out of you, he shoved you against the wall.

It was then he seethed his threat that haunted your dreams a year later.  

“If you leave me now, I swear to you… I will fucking kill you.”

He screamed it. Your ears were ringing as you begged him to let you go. When you managed to open the door and free yourself, you fell to the ground, coughing and wheezing. You were too caught up in your fear that you hadn’t realized Ransom’s outburst attracted a crowd.

It was that threat that put the final nail to his coffin.

You shook the memories out of your head. “It’s done, (Y/N).” You reminded yourself. “It happened. It’s over.” You took a deep breath as you turned off the television – it was doing you more harm than good anyway.

You walked over to your kitchen and frowned when the light refused to turn on. The wind whirled outside as you furiously flipped the switch but to no avail. The bulb was dead.

You groaned to yourself, thinking that this night could not go any worse. You poured yourself a glass of water before deciding to call it a night, reasoning you had an early shift.

The stairs creaked beneath your feet as you ascended the flight. As you prepared for bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The entire atmosphere of your house had shifted, placing you into an undesired horror film and leaving a strange feeling in your bones. You shuffled through your bedside drawer, in search for the orange Rx bottle containing the Ambien you were prescribed to help you sleep.

You flushed the pill down with big gulps of water, hoping that the sleeping aid would kick in faster. You snuggled into your comforter as a shiver ran down your spine. Your head whirled around the dark room and letting out a shrill shriek.

You swore a figure walked past your bedroom door and disappear down the hall. You blinked several times as if to adjust your eyes to the darkness – although with the power outage, they were already well adjusted.

“Nothing’s there.” You told yourself as you shoved the covers off. You poked your head out the door, examining the hallway. “You’re just paranoid… and tired.”  

Goosebumps rose on your skin as a familiar chuckle rang throughout the empty house. Menacing and wicked like a predator laughing at its prey.

“Oh, (Y/N)…” his voice echoed. Your breath hitched in your throat as you backed into your bedroom and locked the door; though, you knew it wouldn’t keep him out for long.

You fumbled with your cellphone, dialing 9-1-1. Within seconds the operator answered but you didn’t give him the chance to complete his script.

“I’m in trouble.” You whimpered. Your voice quivered and your hands – your entire body – was shaking. “Hugh Ransom Drysdale… he’s in my house. Please…”

“Ma’am,” the operator let out a long sigh. “Did you see him?”

“No, you don’t understand.” You rubbed at your eyes with frustration. “I’m his ex-fiancé. It was my testimony that put him in jail. I’m (Y/N) (Y/L).”

“Miss (Y/L), what’s your address?” He asked. The faint sound of typing could be heard on the other line. You recited it only for him to say, “you’re breaking up… Can you – “his voice began to break, muffled and robotic.

“No, no,” you begged as the line suddenly cut. Your mind slowly became fuzzier and fuzzier as the drug slowly began to take effect. You tried to redial, but the error message rang out throughout the phone’s speakers.

“(Y/N)…” he knocked three times.

“Ransom, please,” you cried. “Please, just go.” Tears rushed down your face as you tried to fight the drowsiness. “I won’t tell anyone you were here – “

The doorknob jiggled. “I just want to talk, my little dove.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Like you didn’t believe me when I said I was innocent?” He tutted at you. “Open the door, little dove. Let’s talk.”

“No.” You shook your head although he couldn’t see you.

Ransom let out a sigh before a thud slammed against the wooden door. You whimpered before scampering beneath your bed. The slamming continued until you heard the door break. Your eyelids became heavier as heavy footsteps stomped around your room. You pressed your hand against to your mouth, muffling your breath, praying to whatever god or deity that was listening that he’d leave.

The footsteps suddenly stopped as Ransom exhaled. “My dumb, dumb little baby,” he tutted. Two large hands grabbed your ankles and you screamed as you clawed the floor in an attempt to anchor yourself.

Ransom straddled your waist, holding your thrashing legs in place as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them at the side of your head. He leaned over you – faces centimeters apart.

“Do you remember the last thing I told you?” Ransom asked you, ocean blue eyes bearing into yours. You shook your head at him, crying as meaningless strings of pleads escaped your lips. Ransom cooed, nudging your nose with his. “My dumb baby…”

“Ransom, please,” you cried. “Just go.”

“No, little dove,” he smirked. “I’m not letting you go.” He watched as your eyes slowly became a bit glazed over. “What did you take?” Ransom’s tone suddenly became concerned as he pulled away from you. His voice became distanced as Ransom’s face became blurrier and blurrier until you succumbed to the peaceful darkness – hoping that this was only a nightmare and that when you’d wake, this cold blooded murderer wouldn’t be looming over you.

Ransom slapped your cheek lightly at first, hoping that you’d regain consciousness. He called your name again before slapping you harder. He shook your shoulders but was met with no response.

“Well,” he huffed as he pulled your limp body from the floor, throwing you over his shoulder like a ragdoll. “Makes it easier for me, then.”

The stairs creaked louder beneath your combined weights. He hummed to himself as he opened the found your keys sitting at the dining table and waltzing over to the garage. He placed you at the passenger seat, wincing slightly when he accidentally knocked your head against the roof of the car.

Ransom made his way to the driver’s seat as the garage door slid open. He smirked to himself as he drove. He glanced over you, fast asleep with your head pressed against the window, jolting when the roads became uneven.

“Oh, what wicked things I have planned for you, my little dove.”

[garnetmantle]

Title: After Omega, Star Trek TOS

by: green rose

@sicktember

Prompt #4 Headache

Notes: The TOS episode "Omega Glory" is literally one long recipe for a headache for Kirk. Spock was caught in the nimbus of a phaser set to kill in this episode.

>

Numbly, Jim tried to orient himself among the crush and chaos that was the excited Yangs. Spock. He was trying to keep an eye on Spock, who had admitted to being weak, which probably meant he was barely keeping his feet under him through some feat of Vulcan endurance. Jim’s vision was swimming a bit in the torch-flashing darkness, and he was so damn tired, but he eventually homed in on the red-shirted security guards, and found McCoy, very unhappy, at Spock’s side.

The doctor was not supporting Spock, but he clearly wanted to be. Spock stood at-ease, clearly rebuffing any such attempt. So McCoy was scanning the crowd, and when his eyes hit Jim he lunged forward and grabbed his arm, dragging him forward to stand the appropriate distance from Spock for a beam up. The sudden jerk brought the taste of bile up behind Jim’s teeth. Bones was glaring hard enough that it made Jim a little more dizzy to try to meet his eyes, so he stopped trying to and looked at Spock. Whose at-ease was wavering in its own wind.

“I suppose we can beam up now?” McCoy demanded.

Unperturbed, Spock spoke into his communicator in a steady but very quiet voice, “Three to beam up, Mr. Scott.”

Jim was moving the second the transporter let go, and caught Spock, who went at the knees the moment the transporter beam released him. Kirk had him before his body could hit the ground -- he’d known the usually-inconsequential disorientation of the transporter was going to get Spock, he’d just been able to tell. McCoy was swearing, and his scanner was humming.

So Jim had him under the elbows, crushed against his side, and he only had a moment to dislike how limp Spock had gone before the awful realization hit him that his own balance and coordination was not sufficient to maintain the two of them until the waiting medical team swimming into focus in the too-bright lights of the room could climb on the platform.

Kirk clenched his teeth and swallowed. He had been up for two straight days and nights, but he was not going to drop Spock, and he was not going to throw up in the middle of the transporter room. He was trying to get the nausea forced back enough to tell the corpsmen to hurry up and get Spock when McCoy took Spock’s other side and more than half his weight, and gestured his subordinates forward.

They relieved Jim of the Vulcan’s weight, which he needed, and of the contact, which left a gnawing worry behind it, and put Spock on the anti-grav stretcher they had waiting. One of them handed McCoy a small med-kit which he instantly opened. He read off the hypos, and administered them directly to his patient.

Clearly McCoy had called ahead. Why had Spock waited that long for him to beam up?

It was a little worrying that Spock had let himself be handled by strange corpsmen -- these were new crew, on board less than a month -- and put on the stretcher without complaint, silent and pale and submitting to McCoy’s attentions with none of their usual argument. Jim blew out a slow breath and closed his eyes, then breathed in a deep one as he raised his head and eventually reopened them. Reset. He trusted Bones, and Bones had said authoritatively that Spock would live. There was a lot left to do with—

“Doctor,” Spock had rallied enough to come up on his elbows and look at Kirk, his gaze assessing. He interrupted the doctor in a quiet but very firm voice. Definitely coherent. “You are aware that the Captain has had several trauma-induced periods of unconsciousness during this mission, but you are unaware of the most severe. To my certain knowledge, he has been unconscious due to two severe traumatic blows for a cumulative nine hours and eighteen minutes since our beam down.”

Spock wasn’t announcing it to the room, just to McCoy, but it was bad enough because Bones stopped dead and raised his head. “Captain, you are required in Sickbay in twenty minutes.”

A biting reply wanted to come out – he was too tired to be bossed about by his CMO exercising his prerogatives – but Jim made himself stop. The truth was, his head was a pulsing raw pain he’d been able to manage only by lifting above it – literally dissociating from his own body a bit to cope. He had blood coming out of one ear, his vision was getting worse, and as his adrenaline dropped he was starting to get his own crosswind himself. He was stubborn, and he had a thousand things to do, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Yes, Doctor.”

McCoy, following the stretcher out, stopped to double-blink at him, then looked him over again. “Do you need transport?”

“No, Doctor.” The guards and Scotty and the transporter chief were all listening to them, now, so Jim walked to the door. Oh, yeah. He was getting his own wind and McCoy noticed, of course, caught Jim’s arm to balance the wavering, and started to demand Kirk come with him right then.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, on one condition,” Jim said quietly as he followed McCoy out into the hall. “I know you have some kind of anti-emetic in there, you always do when you’re treating Spock for anything serious. Give me.”

“Yeah?” McCoy asked, trying to catch his eyes, no doubt to evaluate his pupils, but Kirk wasn’t having it. Not quite yet. The doctor's voice was on the gentle side, though, which was immediately soothing, and he opened his med-kit. ”Migraine?”

Jim wished he could say yes, but it wasn’t a good day for blatant lies. “No. Spock’s right. I got my bell rung twice, hard-“

“As opposed to the half-dozen times it was lightly rung?” the doctor asked sharply. “I’m not blind, you know-“

Speaking slowly, Jim continued, “But I’ll be all right for a few more minutes, and then you can do whatever you want.”

“You’re just afraid you’ll get sick all over the Bridge? I’d bet on the turbolift, that upward and lateral motion at once—“

Kirk felt sweat on his upper lip, and he swallowed, hard. McCoy looked a bit abashed and gave him the shot in the arm, and within a few seconds Jim’s stomach had returned to the normal position. He coughed a little and swallowed, then tried out a smile. “You’d be amazed how much that helps. I –“

“Will be in Sickbay in twenty minutes, Captain,” McCoy growled, snapped his med-kit closed and took off after his patient. Instinct urged Kirk to go after them, but duty sent him in the other direction.

>

It was like water dripping away. Onto him. Away from him. A little more impairment. A little less adrenaline. Jim Kirk put one foot in front of the other, and he smiled when he needed to, and he was able to think well enough to handle what had to be handled and know when something had to be put off for a more coherent day. The lights got brighter, though. Drip. And blurrier. Drip. And god it hurt to focus his eyes. Drip. He prepared a bare bones report for the Admiralty, because that couldn’t wait, and every sound got louder. Drip, drip. The world got foggier, and his energy to navigate through it was lessened.

He finally turned, then waited as the Bridge kept turning for a moment before settling down before his eyes. “Mr. Sulu. You have the conn,” he said, and headed for the turbolift. His crosswind was getting more stormfront than gentle breeze – he knew he was swaying on his feet, didn’t that count for something? “If I’m needed you can reach me in Sickbay. Mr. Spock is also in Sickbay. Unless he is needed to keep the galaxy or the ship from blowing up, please forget you can reach him there.”

“Aye, Captain,” came from several people, but then quietly, from Uhura alone, “Could one of us escort you to Sickbay, sir?”

Kirk forced himself to stop swaying, forced a smile to his lips. “No, but thank you, Lieutenant.”

The drop of the turbolift had him laying back against the wall, and his hands over his eyes were trying to push the pain back away. Water dripping everywhere, he was in a rainstorm and it was washing away the world and his energy and his ability to control himself. His head had reached the white-out level, the pain hitting places his consciousness wasn't willing to go with it. One last thing, though.

He walked into Sickbay to see Dr. M’Benga arguing with Dr. McCoy, gentle to his irritation. “You’ve been up for two days, Leonard. Either go to your quarters or go sleep in your office, but you are not fit for regular duty right now.” They’d both worked under worse conditions for crisis duty.

“Just give me a few more minutes, Geoff. I’m not being stubborn. I want a shower and my bed, but—there he is!” He turned from his fellow doctor to glare at Kirk.

“Twenty minutes does not mean forty-five, Captain, sir.”

Kirk made one of his ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’ dismissive gestures and closed his eyes in a brief headshake. “How is Spock?”

McCoy frowned at him as he moved toward him with a scanner in one hand and a tricorder in the other. “In a healing trance. He’ll be fine in a few days, Jim. We were able to treat the radiation poisoning and the rest he can handle himself.”

Jim’s head went down with a huff of a sigh, but he batted at McCoy’s arm when the doctor raised it with the scanner, and McCoy started to growl at him, but Jim made his little dismissive-gesture-closed-eyes-headshake thing he did again. He spoke very evenly. “No. Bones. I think I... could use that… transport now.”

He didn’t go at the knees, he just dropped, and it was all McCoy and a lunging M’Benga could do to keep his limp body from bouncing off the floor.

He got a bed beside Spock's for three days. McCoy's blood pressure was not very appreciative of their stay.

End

[fantastic-bby]

Lia

Pairing: (F)Reader x Felix

Word count: 2.6k

Genre: Guardian Angel!Felix | Fluff | Romance 

Summary: When Felix accidentally reveals himself to you, he has no other choice but to explain what he was planning. You think through the many years spent together, reliving those moments that he’s been by your side when he suggests taking you up to Heaven to turn you into an angel. 

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident | Mentions of alcohol 

Masterlist || Chan - Maive || Minho - Kira || Changbin - Skye || Hyunjin - Nova || Jisung - Blair || Seungmin - Raisha || Jeongin - Avia

“F-Felix?” 

“I-I can explain,” he stutters. You stare at his wings in complete disbelief. You watch the way they fold behind him ever so shyly when he realises he’s too far deep in to make any excuses. “I’m your guardian angel.” You can feel your heart racing in your chest and before you know it, you’ve collapsed. Felix lets out a panicked squeak before running to catch you. “(Y/n)?” He tries shaking you to wake you up, but when it’s obvious that you’re unconscious, he’s even more panicked. “Oh god, o-okay.” 

Without any other options left, Felix resorts to carrying you to his bedroom and tucking you in before he moves to his living room. He tells himself he’ll just tell you it’s a dream when you wake up.

Oh how Felix manages to mess that up. 

“It was not a dream.” You almost choke when you see your boyfriend standing in the kitchen with a pair of wings extending from his bare back. Felix whips around and almost spits out the orange juice he was drinking when he sees you. 

“Oh my god,” he winces as he realises he was being careless around you again. Felix moves to you slowly. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.” He realises how tense you are. He can sense how scared you are. “I know how weird and freaky this seems, but I would never hurt you.” 

“T-Then, why d-d-do you have w-wings?” Your eyes are still fixated on his wings. 

“I am your guardian angel. The simplest way I can put it is that I was assigned to protect you when you turned 16,” Felix explains, “I’m basically supposed to watch over you until your time comes. I keep you safe from demon stuff and spirits and all the jazz.” 

“You say ‘all that jazz’ like it’s so normal,” you huff. He gives you a sheepish smile. 

“I wasn’t supposed to show you I was a guardian angel—damn it,” he groans. “I’m not usually this careless around my humans.” You watch the way Felix runs a frustrated hand through his hair. He’s fucked up. He’s already getting shit for dating you, now the deities are going to pound on him for revealing himself. 

“So…” you trail off as you let the new information process in your mind, “you’re my guardian angel.” Felix nods.

“Whenever a human turns 16, a guardian angel gets assigned to them. It’s up to the angel how they’d go about the protection,” he explains slowly, worried that you might get confused, “they could stay hidden or show themselves and be a close friend to watch over you. Some angels just float around secretly and others will just add themselves into your lives; like I did.” You stare at him blankly. “(Y/n)? You in there?” He waves a hand in front of your face. 

“Y-Yeah,” you quickly nod. “It’s just a bit much. I didn’t think angels existed.” You continue to just stare at him, taking in the sight of his new form. A few moments pass before you step closer, your hand reaching out towards his wings. “May I?” 

“O-Oh,” he nods. “Go ahead.” Your fingers come into contact with his feathers and you’re surprised at just how soft they are. Felix subconsciously retracts them shyly, a blush coming on his cheeks when he hears your thoughts. He relaxes a tad, letting you admire his wings.

“Your wings are so pretty,” you breathe out softly as you bring your other hand up to brush through his feathers. He turns away from you, hiding his blush the more your fingers gently graze his wings. “Wait.” The realisation strikes you and you pull away to look at Felix. “If you’re my guardian angel, then is this…” you gesture to the both of you, “okay? Shouldn’t there be rules on these kinds of things?” 

“Ahah,” Felix lets out an awkward laugh. “Yeah, they’re not that happy with me on that. They’re giving me a pass because they said you’re good.” You give him a questioning look. “Well, say you’re good enough to be an angel, they’ll make you one. That way, we’ll be angels together.” He has a shy smile on his freckled face. “That is if—you know—you would like to join me in becoming an angel.” Your heart softens. 

You’ve never loved anyone more than you’ve loved Felix; that much you’re sure of. He had been by your side throughout high school and college; even staying with you after you had both graduated and moved to working your own separate jobs. Staying by your side may have been his job, but he made you happy. 

The many times he had run over to your apartment whenever you felt unsafe finally made sense. Felix always came quick. Even when you were both in high school, Felix somehow managed to sneak his way into your family’s hearts as well. Your parents barely bat an eye whenever he slept over for weekly movie nights and they never really questioned it whenever he would show up unannounced on days you were feeling your worst. 

“Are you okay?” he questioned softly when he found you crying in the corner of your bedroom. You shook your head. Felix sat beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to bring your head to his chest. “I’m here for you. I’ll always be here.” His words stuck to you. Ever since then, the first person you’d reach out to was always Felix. 

Even when you were in that car accident, all you could think about was him. 

The damage was so much that you knew you were slowly starting to lose consciousness. Everything was becoming blurrier and the dark spots in your vision were getting bigger. The moment Felix came to your mind, you swear you heard him calling out to you right before you lost consciousness. When you came to, you were in a hospital with Felix sleeping in the sofa chair beside your bed. You felt terrible. The first thing you heard other than the beeping from the machines that you were attached to was snoring from your friend. You turned and your chapped lips parted when you saw him sleeping, soft snores leaving past his own parted lips. 

You turned to look around the room, wondering just how you ended up in the hospital; the memory of Felix running up to you completely hidden in your mind. “You’re finally awake.” His voice makes you turn to see him looking at you with lazy eyes. 

“What happened?” Your voice came out raspy, causing you to cough. 

“You got into an accident,” he muttered as he sat upright, stretching his arms out above his head. “The doctor told me to get him when you wake up.” Felix stood up, scooching over to your bed. His hand brushed your matted hair gently. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Your hand quickly moved to wrap around his wrist, stopping him from moving away. 

“Don’t leave,” you said softly. Felix’s eyes immediately softened. 

“Just for a moment, (Y/n). I need to get the doctor,” he told you, his hand adjusting to hold yours; thumb gently running over your knuckles. “I promise I’ll be back.” Your grip around his hand loosened as he left your hospital room. You sat in your bed, waiting a few minutes before he returned with a nurse. Felix called your family before moving to stay by your side while the nurse called your doctor. 

Felix was there even when you were coming home drunk from a college party. 

“(Y/n), be careful!” he squeaked when you trip over your heels. “Take those off. You can wear my sneakers.” Felix slips his shoes off and slides them over to you.

“Thaaaaank you, Lixieeeee,” you giggled, slipping your feet into his shoes. “What about you?” You looked down at his socked feet. 

“Don’t worry about me. Let’s just get you home.” He continued to carefully guide you home, holding your hand gently until you reached your dorm. “Drink this,” Felix handed you a glass of water. You take it, gulping down the entire glass. “Careful! You’ll choke,” he scolded. You gave him a look before placing the glass on the counter. 

“I’m fineeeee,” you slurred. Felix shook his head before guiding you to your bedroom. “Just get some sleep, okay?” He handed you a random t-shirt, turning around to let you change before helping you into bed. 

“Don’t leave me,” you whined when he started to leave. Felix let out a soft sigh. 

“Do you want me to stay in your living room?” he questioned. You shook your head, grabbing his wrist and tugging him into bed with you. 

“Stay with me, Lixie,” you muttered against his shoulder. Felix blushed at the close contact, unsure of what he should do with his arms. “You know Lixie,” you started softly, “we’ve been friends for so long, but I think I like you more than that.” He froze at your words. “You’re so cute and you’re so nice to me.” You looked up at him, your hands moving to cup his face. “Your freckles are so pretty. They’re like stars,” your thumb ran over his freckled cheeks. Felix stared at you, unsure of what he should say. He had feelings for you. He just didn’t want to say anything because he was your guardian. 

“Get some sleep, (Y/n),” he finally said. 

“Thank you, Lixie,” you hum as you snuggle into his chest. Felix barely missed the soft ‘I love you’ that slips past your lips. He dismissed it as your drunken haze, not wanting to dwell on anything that would only make his feelings for you grow. Felix closed his eyes, making a mental note to grab some ibuprofen for you when the morning comes. 

He was even there the time you got into a fight with a classmate, resulting in many bruises to your face. 

“(Y/n), (Y/n), calm down,” Felix frantically tried to calm you down. 

“No! This bitch deserves it!” you stubbornly yap as you still tried to reach out to her. 

“She’s not worth it, (Y/n),” he grabbed onto your waist and pulled you away. 

“Pussy!” your classmate spat at you. 

“Come on, (Y/n). Let’s just head home,” he muttered as he started to drag you away from her. You only managed to calm down when Felix dragged you back to his place where he cleaned up the busted lip your classmate gave you. 

“And then she said you were not even that great of a dancer! Do you know how much of an asshole she is?!” you rambled. Felix only nodded, humming every once in a while to let you know he was listening. “She called my dog ugly! My dog! That tiny ball of fluff that’s the same exact breed as hers! She’s pretty much calling her own dog ugly.” 

“Don’t worry about it, (Y/n). She’s not worth your energy,” he hummed when he deemed your face cleaned up. “Now, how about I heat up some leftover pizza and we can watch a movie together? How does that sound?” Felix’s suggestion did little to bring your mood up, but you agree nonetheless. You watched as he moved around the kitchen, putting pizza into the microwave and grabbing a few bottles of soju from the fridge. The years you’ve spent together slowly settle in your mind and you realised just how much time he had spent with you. 

You thought through the years and you realise:

You love him. 

“(Y/n)?” Felix waved his hand in front of your face. “You in there?” You nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” 

Felix only realised he was falling in love with you when you got accepted into the dean’s list together. He thought the smile on your face was the most beautiful he had ever seen. Felix liked seeing you happy. He realised that when you ran up to him with open arms. 

“Felix! We’re in the dean’s list!” you excitedly giggled as you hold up your phone to show him the email.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “we are.” Felix couldn’t hold back his smile at how happy you looked. He thought you were radiating—glowing—and he realised how much shit he was in just by falling in love with you. He tried so hard to keep his feelings at bay, but when he realised he couldn’t anymore, he started thinking of a plan. 

The thought of turning you into an angel only came to Felix’s mind when he found a fallen angel lurking around your apartment. If you joined the angels, you would be safe from their influence. Not only that, Felix would be with you forever. He kept the plan in his mind, only opting to bring it up to his deities when they finally figured out what he was doing. 

It was a normal movie night for the both of you. You had just gotten home from your part time job  and Felix was lurking around your kitchen to see what kind of snacks you had hidden from him. When he heard your door open, he peeked over your fridge door to see him dragging yourself into your home tiredly. 

“How was work?” he questioned as he finally pulled out two bottles of beer from your fridge. 

“Terrible,” you sighed. “I’m just glad I can finally relax and just watch movies with you.” Felix could feel himself lightening up when he hears just how relieved you are to be home. 

“I picked out something fun.” 

“Horror fun or funny fun?” You gave him a weird look. 

“Funny fun.” His clarification makes you feel more relieved. 

“There’s popcorn in the cupboard next to the fridge. I’m gonna go get cleaned up first.” You disappeared into your bedroom, leaving Felix to prepare the living room. When you come out, you’re pleasantly surprised when you see him surrounded by a makeshift pillow fort. “How’d you get this up so quickly?” you asked with a small smile. 

“Speed, and also,” Felix turned around to grab a cushion, “you have a lot of cushions for one person.” The smile on your face didn’t disappear even when you carefully crawled into the fort where he had set up your laptop. “It's a perfect space for cuddles.” He outstretched his arms, making grabby hands to silently ask you to crawl into his embrace. You climbed into his arms, letting Felix hold you tightly against him. 

“Let’s start.” You hit play, letting the movie start while resting your head on your best friend’s chest. Felix didn’t plan it, but when you realised he wasn’t watching the movie, you looked up at him. “You in there?” Your voice was soft, sounding genuinely concerned. He stared at you—blinking a few times—and leaned down to kiss you. You didn’t move; shocked by the sudden gesture, but you kissed him back nonetheless. When he pulled away, your face was completely red. “Felix-”

“I’m in love with you,” he confessed. Felix awaited your response, feeling his confidence slowly fading away the longer you just stared at him. Instead of rejecting him, your hand came up to cup his cheek. 

“I love you, too.” Your thumb brushed over his cheekbone gently. “I’ve been in love with you since we started college.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “you told me that time you were drunk. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to embarrass you.” 

“What?!” you squeak. Your face became even more red if it was possible. 

“What? I saved you the embarrassment,” he cheekily teased. 

“(Y/n)? You in there?” Felix’s voice pulls you out of the memories you were replaying in your mind. You nod, smiling at the phrase he’s used so many times whenever you’d zone out. 

“I’m here.” You take a step closer to him and take his hands in yours. “I’ll be an angel with you.” A smile breaks onto his face. “I want to be with you forever.”

[greenroseunderglass]

After Omega : Fanfic - Star Trek TOS (Gen)

@sicktember

Prompt #4 Headache

by: greenroseunderglass (1st post to tumblr, I know I'm messing up every way possible.)

Notes: The TOS episode "Omega Glory" is literally one long recipe for a headache for Kirk. Spock was caught in the nimbus of a phaser set to kill in this episode.

Numbly, Jim tried to orient himself among the crush and chaos that was the excited Yangs. Spock. He was trying to keep an eye on Spock, who had admitted to being weak, which probably meant he was barely keeping his feet under him through some feat of Vulcan endurance. Jim’s vision was swimming a bit in the torch-flashing darkness, and he was so damn tired, but he eventually homed in on the red-shirted security guards, and found McCoy, very unhappy, at Spock’s side.

The doctor was not supporting Spock, but he clearly wanted to be. Spock stood at-ease, clearly rebuffing any such attempt. So McCoy was scanning the crowd, and when his eyes hit Jim he lunged forward and grabbed his arm, dragging him forward to stand the appropriate distance from Spock for a beam up. The sudden jerk brought the taste of bile up behind Jim’s teeth. Bones was glaring hard enough that it made Jim a little more dizzy to try to meet his eyes, so he stopped trying to and looked at Spock. Whose at-ease was wavering in its own wind.

“I suppose we can beam up now?” McCoy demanded.

Unperturbed, Spock spoke into his communicator in a steady but very quiet voice, “Three to beam up, Mr. Scott.”

Jim was moving the second the transporter let go, and caught Spock, who went at the knees the moment the transporter beam released him. Kirk had him before his body could hit the ground -- he’d known the usually-inconsequential disorientation of the transporter was going to get Spock, he’d just been able to tell. McCoy was swearing, and his scanner was humming.

So Jim had him under the elbows, crushed against his side, and he only had a moment to dislike how limp Spock had gone before the awful realization hit him that his own balance and coordination was not sufficient to maintain the two of them until the waiting medical team swimming into focus in the too-bright lights of the room could climb on the platform.

Kirk clenched his teeth and swallowed. He had been up for two straight days and nights, but he was not going to drop Spock, and he was not going to throw up in the middle of the transporter room. He was trying to get the nausea forced back enough to tell the corpsmen to hurry up and get Spock when McCoy took Spock’s other side and more than half his weight, and gestured his subordinates forward.

They relieved Jim of the Vulcan’s weight, which he needed, and of the contact, which left a gnawing worry behind it, and put Spock on the anti-grav stretcher they had waiting. One of them handed McCoy a small med-kit which he instantly opened. He read off the hypos, and administered them directly to his patient.

Clearly McCoy had called ahead. Why had Spock waited that long for him to beam up?

It was a little worrying that Spock had let himself be handled by strange corpsmen -- these were new crew, on board less than a month -- and put on the stretcher without complaint, silent and pale and submitting to McCoy’s attentions with none of their usual argument. Jim blew out a slow breath and closed his eyes, then breathed in a deep one as he raised his head and eventually reopened them. Reset. He trusted Bones, and Bones had said authoritatively that Spock would live. There was a lot left to do with—

“Doctor,” Spock had rallied enough to come up on his elbows and look at Kirk, his gaze assessing. He interrupted the doctor in a quiet but very firm voice. Definitely coherent. “You are aware that the Captain has had several trauma-induced periods of unconsciousness during this mission, but you are unaware of the most severe. To my certain knowledge, he has been unconscious due to two severe traumatic blows for a cumulative nine hours and eighteen minutes since our beam down.”

Spock wasn’t announcing it to the room, just to McCoy, but it was bad enough because Bones stopped dead and raised his head. “Captain, you are required in Sickbay in twenty minutes.”

A biting reply wanted to come out – he was too tired to be bossed about by his CMO exercising his prerogatives – but Jim made himself stop. The truth was, his head was a pulsing raw pain he’d been able to manage only by lifting above it – literally dissociating from his own body a bit to cope. He had blood coming out of one ear, his vision was getting worse, and as his adrenaline dropped he was starting to get his own crosswind himself. He was stubborn, and he had a thousand things to do, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Yes, Doctor.”

McCoy, following the stretcher out, stopped to double-blink at him, then looked him over again. “Do you need transport?”

“No, Doctor.” The guards and Scotty and the transporter chief were all listening to them, now, so Jim walked to the door. Oh, yeah. He was getting his own wind and McCoy noticed, of course, caught Jim’s arm to balance the wavering, and started to demand Kirk come with him right then.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, on one condition,” Jim said quietly as he followed McCoy out into the hall. “I know you have some kind of anti-emetic in there, you always do when you’re treating Spock for anything serious. Give me.”

“Yeah?” McCoy asked, trying to catch his eyes, no doubt to evaluate his pupils, but Kirk wasn’t having it. Not quite yet. The doctor's voice was on the gentle side, though, which was immediately soothing, and he opened his med-kit. ”Migraine?”

Jim wished he could say yes, but it wasn’t a good day for blatant lies. “No. Spock’s right. I got my bell rung twice, hard-“

“As opposed to the half-dozen times it was lightly rung?” the doctor asked sharply. “I’m not blind, you know-“

Speaking slowly, Jim continued, “But I’ll be all right for a few more minutes, and then you can do whatever you want.”

“You’re just afraid you’ll get sick all over the Bridge? I’d bet on the turbolift, that upward and lateral motion at once—“

Kirk felt sweat on his upper lip, and he swallowed, hard. McCoy looked a bit abashed and gave him the shot in the arm, and within a few seconds Jim’s stomach had returned to the normal position. He coughed a little and swallowed, then tried out a smile. “You’d be amazed how much that helps. I –“

“Will be in Sickbay in twenty minutes, Captain,” McCoy growled, snapped his med-kit closed and took off after his patient. Instinct urged Kirk to go after them, but duty sent him in the other direction.

>

It was like water dripping away. Onto him. Away from him. A little more impairment. A little less adrenaline. Jim Kirk put one foot in front of the other, and he smiled when he needed to, and he was able to think well enough to handle what had to be handled and know when something had to be put off for a more coherent day. The lights got brighter, though. Drip. And blurrier. Drip. And god it hurt to focus his eyes. Drip. He prepared a bare bones report for the Admiralty, because that couldn’t wait, and every sound got louder. Drip, drip. The world got foggier, and his energy to navigate through it was lessened.

He finally turned, then waited as the Bridge kept turning for a moment before settling down before his eyes. “Mr. Sulu. You have the conn,” he said, and headed for the turbolift. His crosswind was getting more stormfront than gentle breeze – he knew he was swaying on his feet, didn’t that count for something? “If I’m needed you can reach me in Sickbay. Mr. Spock is also in Sickbay. Unless he is needed to keep the galaxy or the ship from blowing up, please forget you can reach him there.”

“Aye, Captain,” came from several people, but then quietly, from Uhura alone, “Could one of us escort you to Sickbay, sir?”

Kirk forced himself to stop swaying, forced a smile to his lips. “No, but thank you, Lieutenant.”

The drop of the turbolift had him laying back against the wall, and his hands over his eyes were trying to push the pain back away. Water dripping everywhere, he was in a rainstorm and it was washing away the world and his energy and his ability to control himself. His head had reached the white-out level, the pain hitting places his consciousness wasn't willing to go with it. One last thing, though.

He walked into Sickbay to see Dr. M’Benga arguing with Dr. McCoy, gentle to his irritation. “You’ve been up for two days, Leonard. Either go to your quarters or go sleep in your office, but you are not fit for regular duty right now.” They’d both worked under worse conditions for crisis duty.

“Just give me a few more minutes, Geoff. I’m not being stubborn. I want a shower and my bed, but—there he is!” He turned from his fellow doctor to glare at Kirk.

“Twenty minutes does not mean forty-five, Captain, sir.”

Kirk made one of his ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’ dismissive gestures and closed his eyes in a brief headshake. “How is Spock?”

McCoy frowned at him as he moved toward him with a scanner in one hand and a tricorder in the other. “In a healing trance. He’ll be fine in a few days, Jim. We were able to treat the radiation poisoning and the rest he can handle himself.”

Jim’s head went down with a huff of a sigh, but he batted at McCoy’s arm when the doctor raised it with the scanner, and McCoy started to growl at him, but Jim made his little dismissive-gesture-closed-eyes-headshake thing he did again. He spoke very evenly. “No. Bones. I think I could use that… transport now.”

He didn’t go at the knees, he just dropped, and it was all McCoy and a lunging M’Benga could do to keep his limp body from bouncing off the floor.

He got a bed beside Spock's for three days. McCoy's blood pressure was not very appreciative of their stay.

End

[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Becoming A Stark (5)- Peter Parker X Stark! FemReader

Word Count: 2717

Author’s Note: Last Chapter before Peter is introduced to the story! Let me know what you think or if you want to be tagged.

Warnings: Mention of injuries and hospitalizations, swearing

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Masterlist

It took a few weeks to get used to living in the tower and you wouldn’t say you and Tony were close, but the other Avengers were helping make things normal for you. The one thing you weren’t getting used to was having FRIDAY now yelling out your blood sugars instead of JARVIS due to the whole Ultron thing. Pepper threatened to take you from Tony for that one, but that fight is a story for another time. It was the angriest you’ve seen Pepper ever get and hopefully, you don’t have to see that again any time soon.

“Y/N is 63 and dropping. Predicted urgent low in 20 minutes.” FRIDAY’s voice comes over the speaker as Natasha, Steve, Clint, and you are watching Once Upon A Time In Hollywood.

“FRIDAY, I got it.” You push up from the couch to walk to the kitchen, but watch the walls shift ever so slightly as you try to walk. 

“You stay, I’ll get you something. What do you want? Juice? Cookies? Soda?” Steve stands from his seat at the end of the sofa.

“Juice.” You say. If you didn’t have hypo-unawareness, you would have felt this before you got so low, but you had bolused for all that good pasta Steve had made and must have made an opps when bolusing for it. Steve returns after a few moments with an apple juice box as well as a packet of graham crackers. You look at them puzzled, but take them with shaking hands.

“FRIDAY said urgent low in 20 minutes. That sounds like it needs more than just a juice box.” You don’t say anything but shrug your shoulders as you try to get the stupid straw into the juice box as your hands continue to shake. 

“I got it.” Clint says as he pulls the juice box out of your hands. With a quick stab, the straw is in the box and he hands it back to you. “Perfect aim over here.”

“Whatever you say.” You mumble before sipping on your juice. To be honest, apple juice just hits differently when you’re low. You turn your attention back to the movie as you sip on the juice, but you don’t want to eat. You’re full from the pasta you ate not even an hour ago. So as the movie keeps playing, your eyes stop focusing on it, everything gets a bit blurrier. You rest your head on Natasha’s shoulder, hoping everything will clear up as you drink your juice. 

“Y/N? I think you should eat these,” Steve’s voice sounds so far away.

“I don’t want to.” You mumble, turning more into Natasha’s shoulder, feeling sleep pull you in.

“Y/N?” Natasha, Steve, and Clint have stopped watching the movie at this point since you stopped responding. “FRIDAY what’s her sugars?”

“LOW Captain.”

“Call Tony.” Tony is at an SI meeting, but if he doesn’t hear about this, he will call any and all Iron Man Marks he has to fight them all. Reaching into the drawer in the table, Steve pulls out a blood sugar testing kit. Tony has stocked the house with them so that you are never more than a few feet away from them. Once you moved in, Tony also made sure that all the Avengers knew how to test your blood sugar manually. “Y/N I’m going to test you ok?” Steve asks, betting he won’t get a reply. Before he can, you start shaking and pulling away from Natasha. 

“Steve, I think she’s having a seizure.” Clint says as Natasha and him roll you to your side, laying you flat on the couch. Steve helps to steady you, before testing your sugars. 

“What is going on?” Tony’s voice comes over the speakers, knowing for any of them to interrupt him, it has to be important- meaning Avengers related or you related. 

“Y/N is low. Very low.”

“How low?” The meter in Steve’s hand beeps.

“16.”

“16?”

“She’s having another seizure.” Clint says.

“Are we sure it’s another? It might be the same one?” Natasha asks and regrets it.

“Another?” In the background they can hear thrusters and they know that Iron Man/ your dad will be here soon. “You need her glucagon. There should be one in the living room, her bedroom, her backpack, and the med bay. It’s a red square, or well rectangle.” Out of the corner of her eye Natasha sees Tony land on the balcony and walk towards the living room. “Do you have it?”

“This?” Steve holds up the box. Tony takes it from his hand.

“Turn her to her side.” Tony says as he pulls the needle and pushes all the liquid into the vial. He stirs it together before drawing all of the liquid back into the syringe. “I got you bambina.” He whispers as he plunges the needle into your thigh.

Time passes slowly. Tony keeps checking and the number goes up slowly. 25. 40. 55. They had moved you to the med bay and Dr. Cho had checked over you, gave you some IV fluids and oxygen, but said that apart from rest and monitoring your blood sugar, there’s not much she can do. She did administer a bit more glucose through your IV since you haven’t come above 70 yet. You’ve been in and out of consciousness so Tony doesn’t expect you to remember anything of what you’ve said previously, especially since most of it made little sense.

“Where ‘m I?” you mumble as Tony does another blood sugar check.

“Med bay.” 92. Finally a good number.

“What happened?”

“You scared the shit out of me. I get what’s a good number now.” You look at him with confused eyes.

“What happened?” you repeat.

“You dropped to 16. Had a seizure or two. Passed out. Been here for a few hours. You’re finally in range again kiddo.”

“16? New record low.” you say.

Tony ignores that comment. “Might have taken a few years off my heart.” Tony admits.

“Thought you were supposed to be gone all weekend,” you say, not commenting on what he said. You mess with the knitted blanket that is covering your legs, not looking at Tony as the words sit in the air.

“My kid was in danger, SI can handle themselves. Promised you I’d be here from now on remember?” Tony says with a shrug. You look up at him, hearing the words he said. You were starting to think of him as more than just Tony over the past weeks when he had to go deal with Iron Man stuff. But tonight he left stuff for you. Because your blood sugar tanked. That’s like something Nana and Pops used to do for you. It’s something family does for each other. 

“Is Pepper mad that you left?” You fidget with the IV in your arm. It’s not the first time you’ve had one and it probably won’t be the last time.

“How can I be mad at him when I left moments after him?” Pepper peeks into the room.

“But you’re the CEO?” Pepper walks from the door towards your bed.

“You’re more important. My assistant is taking care of everything that he can and everything he can’t will get postponed until later. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to focus until I saw you were ok.”

“Is it just because I’m the heir to SI?” You can’t help but voice the dark thought in your mind.

“Of course not.” Pepper says as she sits on the edge of your bed, taking your IV-less hand in hers. “I happen to care about you an awful lot. It doesn’t matter to me one bit that you’re supposed to take SI or not. I would be here.” Tony moves to sit on the opposite side from where Pepper sits.

“I know the circumstances of how everything happened wasn’t the best Y/N, but I love you a lot. And I would drop anything and everything for you.”

“Really?”

“I’m your dad. A dad does anything for his kid.” Tony wants to reach out and take your hand like Pepper did, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to, he doesn’t want to push too far too fast. But you reach for him instead.

“I’m not good at having a dad. At having parents.” You say honestly looking at both Tony and Pepper as you say this, hoping she doesn’t mind that you’re including her in this statement. “I had Nana and Pops sure. But that’s different.”

“I’m not the best at having a kid either, but I’m going to try my very best at it.” Tony admits. “How about we try this thing together?” He asks. “As a family?” He tacks on looking towards Pepper too.

“I’d like that.” You admit. “But only if Pepper stays to keep you reigned in. Because I can’t handle you on your own.” Tony laughs at that.

“Pepper’s here to stay if I have my way.” He says. “You and Pep. You're my family. Well and Platypus. And the Avengers. Only because they wrestled their way in.”

“I think I can settle for that right now.” You admit. “At least the you and Pepper part.”

“Still figuring out the lay of the land with the Avengers?” Tony asks.

“You jump from having almost no family to being told that you can have all of the superheroes in the world as your family and see how you do.” You roll your eyes.

Pepper squeezes your hand. “Take whatever family you feel is right. We’ll all be by your side when you need it the most.” All three of you sit there quietly for a few minutes before you realize something.

“No!” 

“What?” Tony’s eyes are searching the room for a threat he can’t find.

“I missed the end of the movie!” Your voice comes out closer to a whine then you mean for it to. Tony’s hand rises to his heart trying to calm it back down.

“You were all watching a DVD. You can rewatch it later. Please give me 24 hours before you scare me again please. My heart can only take so many scares in one day.”

“You’ve got some visitors if you’re feeling up to it?” A voice comes from the doorway. You look up and see Steve, Clint, and Natasha looking in towards you.

“Sorry I ruined movie night.”

“If you think we’re here to make you apologize, you’re dead wrong.” Clint says.

“I think Clint is here to see your eyes do work without rolling into the back of your head.” Natasha throws out as she sits in the chair across from your bed.

“I thought you would think that was cool?” You ask, seeing as Clint is usually the one looking for things that are creepy but over the top.

“Not when it comes to someone’s kid. I got kids of my own. I never want to see that from you again kid. You got it?” Clint crosses his arms as he stands behind Natasha. “That was the scariest moment of babysitting I’ve ever had, and I’ve lived through two kids going through their toddler phases.”

“As long as I get the award…” 

“Don’t even try.” Tony cuts you off. “I second Clint’s statement. Seeing your eyes go into the back of your head was not something I ever want to see again either so lets make that a thing on the ground rules of not allowed.”

“To be fair, I’m the one who’s food she gave insulin for-” Steve starts and you stop him before the words are even out.

“Don’t try to blame yourself. It’s very Captain America and all. But I can literally give the same bolus for the same food two days in a row and get two very different results. Diabetes just doesn’t give a shit. It does what it wants. So if you want to blame someone, blame my pancreas for being a shit team player and quitting back twelve years ago. The whole point of having Wallace is to try and catch this before it happens, but sometimes it still happens. It’s shit but that’s life.” You explain, and everyone’s eyes fall on you. 

“How are you so calm about all of this?” Clint asks.

“Because it’s not the first time I’ve ended up in a hospital bed due to diabetes. And it’s not the first time it’s tried to kill me. Being diabetic, you come to terms that you’re playing with fire and you’re going to get burned. But as long as you don’t die, then the day is a success. Sometimes there may be more losses than wins, but you keep going. It’s something you come to terms with when you have a disease that isn’t going away because there’s no cure. You’re forced to come to terms with it.”

“Can I ask how many times you’ve been hospitalized because of it?” Natasha asks, looking up at you with a deep expression.

“Counting this? Uh….” You count in your head. “Let’s see. There was my diagnosis. I was this close,” You hold your fingers inches apart, “from falling into a coma from my sugars being too high. Then I got the stomach flu when I was six. Nothing would stay down, but my ketones went sky high. Next I got an infected pump site. Normally I would just take some Advil and hope it goes away but this one got bad. Was in the hospital for three days, on antibiotic drips. Then I spent my seventh birthday in the ICU with the flu. That was a blast. Ketones out the wazzoo. I just had no immune system. Then I got strep five times and had to get my tonsils out, but they were worried about infections and ketones and such, so they kept me in the hospital for a week. Eight and nine I lucked out and was only in the hospital once, for a really wonky pump site that shot me into the 900s. Luckily I was only in the ER for that one. Ten through thirteen, I was in the hospital every like six months it felt like with bad blood sugars. Fell into a coma twice. And it took like three weeks to come out of it. So that was a total blast. Missed a lot of school. And this year I have lucked out and only been in the hospital once besides this. Stomach flu, tried to get me again. On day two of nothing staying down, Nana took me to the ER. So… Thirteen? Oh wait, fourteen counting today. Wait does today count? I guess it does since I got an IV.”

“The medbay is like Tony’s private hospital so it’s essentially a hospital so it counts.” Natasha says with a nod.

“Ok, so fourteen times because of diabetes related stuff. But I also had three other non-diabetes times too.” All eyes are on you. You should have just skipped it, because now you’ll just have to explain it. “I broke my arm in first grade because a kid bet me I couldn’t walk across the top of the monkey bars. I made it all the way across but then slipped and fell at the end. Still he had to give me his GI Joe, so who’s the real winner? The incident in fifth grade. And then took a bet that I wouldn’t walk across the Brooklyn Bridge barefoot. Stepped on a nail. Had to get stitches.” You shrug.

“Hmmm, funny she sounds just like someone else who is stupid enough to take dares or I don’t know invite war criminals to their front door.” Pepper says looking at Tony.

“To be fair, you can’t blame that on me, because I was never there to tell her that taking bets is never the right way to go unless you know you’re going to win them.” Tony says with a smile. 

“Technically, I won both bets. I got injured after both were over.” You brag.

“That’s my girl.” Pepper rolls her eyes.

“Why do I feel like I’m going to be chasing more trouble now?”

“I’ll keep an eye on her.” Natasha says from across the room with a smile.

Becoming A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway  @iamaunicorn4704  @furiouspockettoad  @daughter-of-stark  @eternalharry  @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

[inactiveaccount73]

I Need My Girl

Jason Todd x fem!reader/ (Slight) Garfield Logan x reader

Inspiration: Song: I Need My Girl by The National

Summary: The reader (Jason’s crush) pushes him out of the way to save him. The reader goes to hospital and while Jason’s and the rest of the Titans are waiting for any news Jason’s guilt eats him alive.

Warnings: One swear word, angst, fluff, first kiss as a couple, reader almost dies, Jason crying cause he’s my baby and I don’t want him to cry but I make him cry anyway and I should really make a happy thing with Jason but I just don’t ???

“Jason look out!” She shouted pushing him away mere seconds before she took the blast. Everything froze and Jason couldn’t hear himself scream but he felt it. The burning of his throat like he’d swallowed a wildfire slowly turned to coal that weighed in his stomach as he made his way to her. He fell to his knees and pulled her softly so that her head rested on his thighs. He just stared at her with blurry eyes that seemed to her blurrier. That’s the last thing he remembered before he was waiting in the hospital.

Dick, Rachel and Kori sat on the scratchy and uncomfortable hospital chairs. While Jason and Garfield paced around the waiting room.

"Guys could you please sit down you're making me more nervous." Rachel said as her head was in her hands.

"No we can't. Look I'm sorry Rach but I'm not going to sit down. I can't. I can't-" Garfield put a shaky hand through his green hair as he let out an even shakier breath. Kori stood up and made him sit down.

"Why is no one saying anything?! Jesus Y/n could be dying or dead because of me and no one-" Jason shouted

"Jason don't talk like that." Rachel muttered, eyes brimming with fresh tears.

"But it's the truth." Jason countered

"Would you two shut it." Dick said. Everyone jumped that was the first thing that Dick said since they'd been in the waiting room.

“No Dick I’m not shutting up. Y/n is one of us. If she wasn’t so fucking selfless then I would be in the hospital bed that she’s in and to be honest I’d trade places with her in a heartbeat. I’m not bothered about people dying. People die everyday but I don’t want her to die today." Jason got up and walked off. The cold air bit him but he couldn’t care less. His mind was whirling. Why him? Why did you save him? Out of all the team why would you save him? He didn’t have powers like Kori or Raven or Gar. He was a shadow to Dick. He knew he’d never be what Bruce wanted him to be. Bruce wanted him to be like Dick but he wasn’t.

I can't get my head around it

I keep feeling smaller and smaller

I need my girl

After what felt like eternity one of the nurses came.

"Excuse me are you all here for Y/n Y/l/n?" A nurse said everyone looked at her.

"Yes we are. Is anything wrong?" Kori asked. The nurse smiled warmly

"No nothing's wrong, your friend is lucky to have survived that." Garfield nervously chuckled putting his hands behind his head and resting on the back of the seat

"Yeah she is a lucky charm."

"You're free to see her now." The nurse informed them, everyone got up quickly.

"I'll go get Jason." Kori said everyone nodded as she went out the door to find him.

***********

Beep. Beep. Beep. The sound of a heart monitor was the sound that filled her ears as she woke up slowly. Y/n slowly blinked and groaned at the light. As her eyes adjusted she could make out three figures; Garfield, Dick and Rachel. Her voice was hoarse.

“Where’s Kori and Jason?”

"Kori went to find Jason. He couldn't handle it." Rachel said her chin length bon was slightly messy. Guilt filled Y/n. Y/n and Jason has always been close since she’d first joined the Titans. She’s seen sides of Jason none of them ever would. She didn't even want to think about what could've happened if she hadn't of made it. She shook her head.

“You have no idea how happy I am that you survived.” Dick spoke she chuckled slightly.

“You and I both Dicky.” They smiled at each other.

“Y/n/n." She heard a voice say barely above a whisper, the team made way for Jason as he hugged her.

"C'mon guys lets leave Jason and Y/n for awhile. Glad to see you’re better Y/n." Kori said. Everyone left but Garfield cast one last look at Y/n before Kori gave him a quick, swift kick in the shin. He let out a soft groan before leaving. Jason and Y/n laughed. They both nodded in thanks. She returned the gesture before walking out.

"I'm guessing the team have already said how glad they are to have you back." Jason said

"Yeah." There was a silence. "Rachel told me how you couldn't handle it." Her voice was sympathetic. Jason chuckled as a few tears streamed down his face. Y/n laid a hand on his cheek and he nuzzled into it.

"I am sorry you know. I thought I'd be stronger but when the doctors weren't telling us anything it hit me like a truck that I might be losing my best friend and when I thought I'd lost you. You have no idea how scared I was when I thought I would never be able to tell you how much I-" Jason cut himself off before he went any further. He stuffed his hands in his jean pockets and broke eye contact. Y/n raised a questionable eyebrow but said nothing.

“Now you know how I feel when you get hurt.” Jason chuckled “besides it’s gonna have to take a lot more than that to finish me off. I am a Titan after all.”

"To right you are. No wonder your nickname’s lucky, you've always been lucky you know ever since you came into my life I feel like it’s become a better place.”

“I know Jay.” The air was filled with a comfortable silence except for the beeping.

“Jason.” He hummed “what were you going to say before you cut yourself off?” Jason looked like he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t of been doing.

“You know the usual sappy stuff when you nearly lose someone.” He said taking his hands out of his pockets and using one to rub the back of his neck.

“So say it.”

“Huh?”

“Say the sappy stuff that people say when they nearly lose someone.” There was a mischievous glint in her eye and Jason chuckled.

“Fine. Y/n Y/l/n I couldn’t imagine my life without you. Everyday you make my life a better place and I feel so much happier with you by my side.”

“No offence Jay but that sounded more like a marriage proposal and you can’t propose without dating a girl gees Jason.” She said laughing. He grabbed her face and pushed his lips to hers. They moved in sync as she grabbed his wrist. They broke apart and Jason opened his mouth "I feel the same bozo don't worry." He smiled.

"Which is why I've decided on something that will keep you out of harms way. You're never going on a mission again unless you're with me," Jason told Y/n in a half joking, half serious tone.

"Well you are the reason I’m in here anyway. But if I don't go how am I supposed to help you out. The whole team knows you never think of a plan." Jason laughed.

"So you never look behind you. Is there a reason for that or did you just do it?" Y/n shrugged.

"I guess if I look back then I'm scared I'm gonna get lost in the past and I won't be able to do anything 'cause I'll be stuck there. I’ve been stuck in the past for to long and I need to change it but no matter how much you want to change something in the past it's stuck there now forever and there's nothing you can do about it. " Jason was left speechless he never though there would be an actual reason as to why she never looked back. It scared Jason how she never had any emotion in her when she said that or in her face. "Besides I didn't want to see how far you were behind me." She added with a light laugh.

“More like how close I was.”

"Yeah right. I was faster than you and you knew it." They both laughedz

"Sir I'm sorry but visiting hours are almost over and Miss Y/l/n will need to get some rest." Jason nodded and pressed a long chaste kiss to the crown of Y/n’s head.

“Soon as your out of here I’m taking you on a date.” He whispered

“Can’t wait.” She whispered back and Jason broke out into a boyish grin. She chuckled. “Right go come on Jay I need my beauty sleep.”

“Trust me baby you really don’t.” She blushes and Jason chuckled. "See you tomorrow.”

“Bye handsome.” He excused himself past the nurse and towards the team.

"Do you know how long she's gonna be in here for?" Garfield asked Jason shook his head. Garfield’s demeanour slumped.

“I hope it’s not long though I’ve got to take her on a date.” Jason said everyone stared at him wide eyed. Garfield lightly punched his shoulder and Dick ruffled his hair.

"We'll visit her everyday though." Rachel said

"For sure." Jason said

"Let's get going." Kori suggested the team hummed in agreement before walking out of the hospital where Y/n wouldn’t be in for much longer.

[falling-pages]

I’m just protective: Hikaru x reader (and a little bit of Kaoru) 1/2

Welcome to some Hikaru angst! This is part 1 of 2, part 2 posted right here! It’s a bit messy and jumbled, but still angsty all the same. Little warning: there is a slight mention of date rape-type drugs whenever they talk about Kaoru. Nothing explicit or too mature, but there is definitely context about it if you read in between the lines. I got the idea for what happened to Kaoru from @startingtodayyouareahost from this story they posted. Go give them a read and be sure to see that post for context! *Send me a prompt or idea! My ask box is open!*

Dating Hikaru Hitachiin was a constant journey of surprises, good and bad. When you first met, you fell in love with his playful demeanor. The glint in his eyes that some people called evil you thought was charming. The daring smile when he had a trick up his sleeve still sends butterflies to your stomach. And whenever he touches you, giving you little shoves or digging his hands into your waist, it still feels like the first time you ever brushed fingers. 

Though mischievous, he had his mature moments. You loved it when you two sat outside on a sunny day, your head in his lap while he sketched the gardens on campus. The way he furrowed his brow when he concentrated showed his dedication to his work. He even knew when to give you your personal space, doing little chores around the house until you were ready to be social again.

It was nice to be in love with such a versatile person.

Sometimes, though, it felt like you were dating a two-year-old rather than a 21-year-old.

Like right now, when you walk into the bathroom to see his whole left foot stuck in the toilet. All thoughts of your exam the next day fled your mind as you stood there for a moment, frozen in awe, watching the boy you love shake his whole body in an escape attempt.

“What the heck, Hikaru?”

He turns at your voice, a grin splitting his face. “(Y/N)!” he said, waving you over. “You’re home! I’m so glad! I missed you!”

He opens his arms, but you spurn them, more interested in whatever situation he has caused. “What’s going on here?”

“Oh, this.” Something’s off about his phrasing. He held the “s” much longer than normal. “I, uh...I dropped something, and I needed to get it back.”

“What did you drop?” you ask, taking a closer look. His left foot is completely wedged in the hole the water gets suctioned out of, the (thankfully) clean water staining the hem of his pants. 

“I don’t remember,” he mumbles. 

You frown. That’s suspicious. He sloshes the bowl as he struggles. His sneaker remains on his right foot. Does that mean his shoe is clogging the toilet?

“Oh, Hikaru...” You reach up and steady your boyfriend as he loses his balance. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Ideally, help me get unstuck,” he replies, “and then we can go to bed. I’ll help you relax if you wash off my foot...”

He tips up your chin, but you dodge him, your fingers digging into his side. Your shoulders burn from the added weight. You couldn’t believe that after the day you’ve had, thirteen hours locked up in the library, you had to come home and take care of a child.

“You couldn’t have been here for very long,” you say as he shifts his weight. “How could you forget what you dropped?”

Hikaru laughs. He sounds different. That laugh was sloppy and breathy, not precise and clean like normal. And getting his foot stuck in a toilet? He had always been a clumsy prankster, but they were always situations where he had complete control over, times he could provide the only outcome. How could he be so careless?

“My prince, are you sure this wasn’t just an accident?” you ask suddenly.

This time, Hikaru succeeds in grabbing your chin. Lowering his eyes to rest on yours, he drops his tone. For a moment, as unromantic as being stuck in a toilet is, it’s nice to be alone with him.

“Our time together is never an accident,” he replies.

As he brings your mouth to his, you close your eyes, only to be startled by the smell of tequila on his breath. You jump back out of his grasp and grab his face. His eyes are red, and you suddenly understand how his foot got stuck.

“You’re drunk!” you yell, pushing him away from you. You cross your arms, feeling the betrayal settle in your stomach like molten lead. “You went out to a party,” you say, swallowing thickly, “when I had specifically asked you not to, and got drunk.” You throw your hands up. “You know I can’t handle taking care of your drunk ass and my exam tomorrow!”

You turn on your heel to leave the bathroom, sick from the smell of his drinks. It was everywhere now, infusing the air and crawling up your nose, down your throat. It suffocated you, blinded you.

Hikaru’s fingers grabbed the back of your blouse, pulling you back in. Maybe it was your imagination or your anger, but the stench was stronger and your vision blurrier. Usually his touch calmed you down or excited you, depending on the situation. But now the very thought of his drunken hand caressing your spine nauseated you.

“(Y/N),” he whines, tugging on your shirt, “please. I’m sorry.”

That damn whining voice. Whenever he wanted something, he always raised his voice an octave and folds his tongue in a way to make the tone smoother. You don’t know how he does it or why it works so well, but it’s the voice that instantly makes you want to take off your pants.

Except for tonight. You turn to your boyfriend, shaking off his clinging hand. Leaning against the wall across from him, you smile smugly at his vain attempts to free himself. This could be good blackmail.

“I should just leave you here,” you say, heading back to the doorway.

“(Y/N)! Baby! Please, you gotta help me out!”

The moment of endearment evaporates, the frustration and anger rushing back in. The tips of your ears burn, and you face him. He’s looking at you pleadingly, but your heart has hardened against it.

Hikaru loses the look the moment you meet his eyes. For a moment, he plays with his long, slender fingers and bows his head. The bright fluorescent lights make his skin paler than normal and accent the faint veins in his face. He is...drooping, like a wildflower in a hurricane. Usually he only pulled that look with Kaoru when they were feigning innocence after pulling a prank. But right now it’s just you two. He’s not innocent.

“Hikaru, look at me.” You force your voice to be harsh to cover the strain of tears in the back of your throat. 

He looks up immediately, locking eyes. You allow yourself to get lost in them for one second, feeling yourself fall into his gaze, all while holding on to your anger like an anchor.

“Tell me what happened.”

He hears the strain in your voice and starts to reach for you. “Baby--”

“Tell me what happened.”

He combs his fingers through his ginger hair. It looked so soft, and you knew it smelled good. You wanted to bury your face into it, but you were too angry.

“You’ve been so busy for so long, studying for medical school,” he starts. You frown as he pins the blame on you, but let him continue. “And I know you need to study for that exam. It’s the most important exam of your life. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“So you broke your promise?”

“I--” he hangs his head. “An old friend from first year invited me to a party. he always throws keggers and I didn’t have plans, and I knew you would be at the library all day and I was bored.” He drags out the word, fiddling with his fingers again. “Everything got out of control. I didn’t plan on getting drunk, but I’m sober now, I swear!”

He continues pleading, and you take a step closer. His eyes aren’t bloodshot anymore, and his speech is less slurred. Even his escape attempts are less jagged than before.

“How did you get home?” You ask solemnly. “You didn’t drive, did you? If you did, I swear to God--”

“NO! I took an Uber,” he says, spreading his hands in alarm. “You know I’d never put you through that again.”

You let out a breath. “That’s why I say never go to a party without me, the thing with my dad and what happened to Kaoru that one time--”

“I know.”

“And you went without me anyways!” you yell.

Hikaru jerks back. He’s used to you yelling--you’re both pretty loud people--but this is a hot topic with you, something he should have expected.

“We made a promise,” you start, your voice shaking, “that neither of us would go to a party without the other.” You shove your finger in his face, watching his shoulders start to twitch. “And just because I was busy, and you were bored, you broke that promise! You’re such an asshole!”

You step back, your whole body shaking with rage, as you felt your fingertips go numb. The study stress and exhaustion and hunger formed one hell of a cocktail of emotions.

Hikaru reaches for your shoulder, but you angle yourself away. You can’t look at him, not after the danger he put himself in tonight.

“(Y/N),” he says gently, “I’m okay. My driver was sober, and I watched my drinks the entire time. No one messed with me, I promise. I’m sorry.”

In his eyes you see a deep reflection of sadness. Of course he’s sorry. You don’t doubt that. He hates seeing you angry, hates it even more when you cry. Though you haven’t shed a single tear yet, you feel them burning in your eye sockets, choking down your throat.

“Get yourself out of this mess,” you spit out, wiping your nose clean from the smell. “And don’t come to bed. I don’t want to see you for the rest of the night.”

You walk out of the bathroom and straight into your bedroom, needing to shower the day off but unwilling to be around Hikaru. As you laid down in bed, unconsciously stroking the seam of the sheet, you let your mind wander. A single tear escapes your eye.

Maybe you overreacted. Then again, he broke a promise very near to your heart. He knew that meant a lot to you, knew that you had nightmares about what happened to Kaoru happening to one of you. He knew you still hated your dad for driving drunk and killing your mom. He knew all of this and did it anyways.

You turn over to the spot where your boyfriend usually sleeps. Although you miss him beside you, the extra space is nice. You just need time for your anger to burn away. And a good night’s sleep. The last thing you need is a distraction for your exam.

[darawonplease]

✵ ch.3 – blackout.

「 ☽ Ian's POV」

.

「 Ian, you’ve hid in your apartment for a week now, are  you alright?」

「 Dude, we need you at the studio」

「 I’ll get your lazy ass myself, I fucking swear」

.

I scrolled through the DPR group chat out of pure boredom, nothing more.

.

“450 missed messages, huh?”.

Quite a rare scenario, I was the person who usually spammed nonstop in our group chat, bothering the others.

I threw the phone over the coffee table in front of the leather couch where my body was laying, restless, completely drained. Like a stalled car I was stuck there, my limbs dangling down, almost touching the ground.

.

The sun splashing into a bundle of warm colors was a view I enjoyed quite a lot from my living room’s large windows. I almost refused to acknowledge how stunning that was just to keep lurking in the darkness, tucked away from any worry.

Defeat left such a bitter taste in my mouth. Our label was going through some rough times and I had abandoned the ship and retired in the comfort of my home for the time being.

I had felt strange ever since Chaerin left for LA. An eerie feeling stalked me each and every step I took, not allowing me any peace.

.

I looked over my shoulder, my home was completely trashed. Plastic bottles and takeaway boxes were scattered on the floor, my bed undone, all of the surfaces covered in dirty clothes, used glasses. A crack house would’ve been 10 times more hospitable than my apartment.

Maybe it was Chae’s sudden departure or maybe I was just exhausted by the useless amount of editing I did for some - now cancelled - DPR projects. A lethal mix of both certainly put me at my knees when it came to my psychological and physical health.

Overworking was my way to keep my mind busy and forcefully kick out any thought regarding her absence. It worked for a while until that day. The blackout.

I could sense a growing tension that took over me the moment I got into a fight with Dabin.

.

I couldn’t believe I had let myself get into those conditions. I was forced to contain my rage and melancholy inside the walls of my house; it was the only way to protect the people around me from my mood swings and irritability and, ultimately rest for a bit. I felt like shit.

With the last ounce of strength in me, I dragged my body over to the bathroom.

.

The mirror’s image told me that wasn’t me. That wasn’t Ian. Ian wouldn’t go into hiding in times of need. Ian wouldn’t get into violent fights. He wouldn’t disrespect his friends. That was the worst version of Ian. The scruffy looking hair, the unshaven face, the deep dark under eyes sitting under those dim eyes, the healing bruises on the cheek. I despised what I saw.

weak.

A deep voice started echoing in my head suddenly.

you’re pathetic.

fucking look at yourself.

you look like shit.

I firmly held my head between my hands, my brain felt like imploding in that instant. My hands started trembling out of control. I watched them twitch like crazy, completely powerless over them.

The more I tried to make up the details of my face in the reflection, the blurrier the vision in front of me became.

“Fuck… not again”.

✵

I woke up, strangled by the warmth of my dirty sheets. The stank of cigarettes and whisky choke me, almost making me gag.

“I need to change these”. I immediately thought to myself as I shoved them away from my body.

That persistent headache finally ceased to bother me; its intensity was nothing compared to the one I had the night before.

I slowly turned my head to the right, the blinds cut through the sunlight, just letting a couple of rays penetrate in the dark room as the day was breaking in.

I followed one of the gleams until it hit on tan bare skin.  Someone was lying on the other side of my bed.

.

“Wh-“.

.

A woman with platinum hair cascading on her pale face was still fast asleep beside me.  

I flinched at the sight of her unfamiliar features and covered my mouth to prevent myself from waking her up.

“Who is this person?” - I thought to myself, as I panicked to get out of bed. I needed to wrap my head around what was happening.

I desperately tried to cling onto the blurry, fleeting memories that vanished in the distance the more I tried to recall them. That now familiar feeling of loss slowly ate away every bit of my sanity.

how did this person end up in my house?

and in my bedroom?

did we…?

I wasn’t one who would hook up with random people. I just wasn’t that type of person.

I was definitely too old for that stuff and yet- a naked woman I didn’t recognize was in my bed.

I just couldn’t resolve the mystery as to where I had possibly met her, I could swear I didn’t step out of my house all week for the fear of hurting someone else. No matter how hard I tried to put together the clues around me, the puzzle was missing too many pieces.

.

maybe she just walked to my place.

what if I downloaded a dating app?

.

I frantically looked for my phone under the pillows, the bedsheets, in the drawers of the nightstand. With my face squished against the cold floor I scanned under the bed only to find a pile of random clothes that I then started to go through.

bingo.

There it was, buried under the mountain of dirty garments. I immediately searched for any dating app or messages on my phone to confirm my theory and prove myself I wasn’t actually crazy but to no avail. Of that sort of thing, not a trace.

.

“Good morning”.

.

The woman wrapped her arms around me and whispered in my ear with her raspy morning voice.

I froze in place, my mind going completely blank. Having that huge blackout of events didn’t give me any peace but It wasn’t the time to play detective. I had a complete stranger in my bedroom.

.

“G-good morning”. I forced myself to greet her with a confused smile.

.

She kneeled to get her stuff from the pile of clothes that stood up at my feet and started dressing up. I immediately turned around in shame at the sight of her naked body, my ears were burning red.

“Why are you so shy all of a sudden, oppa?”.

✵

“Come on, don’t be shy oppa!”.

Chae gently pushed a bowl of rice towards the other side of the table, where I was sitting.

“Just eat to your heart’s content”. She flashed her usual bright smile.

“If I'll find myself at the hospital for food intoxication, I will make your name Chae”.

I pointed at the chef with the spoon in my hand and chuckled, I just loved teasing her.

“Don’t be ungrateful and just eat, will ya?”. She pretended to be offended, crossing her arms and such. It was so obvious that she was anxiously waiting for my critique.

Without further ado I picked a spoonful of fried rice and started munching with no particular expectations. Not because I expected her to be a bad cook, I just didn’t want to put my expectations too high only to be left disappointed.

An explosion of flavors mixed and popped in my mouth. The aroma brought me back to when I was a child and my mom used to cook me a simple fried rice dish before leaving to work. Chae’s cooking felt like home.

I slowly nodded my head in satisfaction and licked my lips.

“It’s… meh-…alright”. I teased her again.

“Alright?! Spit what you ate, this instant!”. Chae threatened me with the wooden spoon she just picked up from the table to hit me on the arm.

“CHAE, OUCH, IT HURTS” - I hurriedly took another spoonful and immediately stood up from my seat, fleeing toward the hallway of her apartment.

“COME BACK YOU IDIOT!”. She chuckled.

✵

The annoyingly loud sound of the intercom made me snap back to reality.

.

“Hello? You okay? Someone is outside the door”.

The platinum-haired girl waved her hand in front of me to make sure I was listening to her, which I wasn’t until that moment.

I shook my head and sprinted towards the door.

.

“Come on man, don’t make me buzz for other 5 minutes”. I heard Scott’s stern, yet familiar voice.

I opened the door to find him and Cream on my doorstep, a dead-serious expression plastered on both of their faces. They made their way into my apartment before I could say anything.

“Wait guys I-“.

“Dude, you look like shit”, Cream exhorted, putting his hands at his sides.

Scott looked around my living room, his expression was distorted by a mix of disgust and disappointment as if he walked into a true crime scene.

“What’s up with this Ian? When did you start to smoke legit cigarettes?”.

“Me? You know I don’t smo-“.

He picked an ashtray stacked with cigarette butts from the coffee table and looked back at me with frustration.

“Where does that come from…?”, I muttered under my breath, surprised by the presence of that object in my home.

Cream carefully walked towards the kitchen, almost stumbling in some empty beer cans, “This is so depressing man”, He inspected the empty bottle of what looked like Jack Daniel’s on the messy kitchen counter.

“When did I drink that? Wait guys- “.

“Whoa Ian, are you not going to introduce us to your girl?”.

I widened my eyes at the sight of her; I had forgotten about the stranger in my bedroom for a hot minute.

.

“She’s…”.

.

 A drip of cold sweat dribbled down my forehead as I panicked to recall that person’s name; my mind could only crash into a blank wall.

I paused for an awful lot of time until she interrupted me.

.

“The nerve! How come you can’t even remember my name? After last night…You know what Mito? You’re a jerk”.

.

“W-what?...”.

.

An explosion of pain spread in my left cheek as she slapped me. She then marched directly out of the door, showing me her middle finger as I held my face in agony.

“Man…”, Scott sighed, “I see you’ve been keeping yourself busy lately…”. He pushed aside the stuff occupying the seating surface of the couch and made space for himself.

“Did she just call you? Mito? Ian? Are you into role-playing?”, Cream asked letting out a small laugh.

“Into what?...”.

 “Nevermind”. He heaved a deep sigh and slowly walked towards me, avoiding the trash on the floor like an obstacle course.

I just kept silent. I couldn’t throw a fit again just because I was so burned that I had a complete blackout. I just couldn’t.

“We left you alone for just a week and you managed to turn your pretty apartment into a dumpster”.

“y-yeah…”.

“And the girl? You never told me about that pretty blonde girl, did you? Ian you rascal”. Cream grinned, with a proud smile.

“I- I met her recently I guess…”. I lied, not knowing how to justify myself.

.

Pushing onto his thighs for support, Scott stood up from his seat, “Ian… I know It’s not the best of times for us right now… but hang in there, okay? We’ll get on our feet soon, we do need you though”, He shook my shoulders to make sure I listened to him.

“Yeah sure…”. I just kept nodding.

“You still haven’t talked with Dabin, did you?”.

“I haven’t”. I looked down at the mess in the living room, attempting to avoid his inquisitorial gaze.

.

A raw and unfamiliar beat started playing out of the blue, interrupting Scott’s soon to be scolding.

“Look Scott, Ian actually worked on something”. He redirected his attention towards me with a satisfied smile on his lips.

Scott raised his eyebrow and looked over the laptop, “Have you?”, his eyes went back to me.

“This? No-”

The strained vocals on the track suddenly became an unsettling background to the messed-up scenario.

.

again?

.

 Scott’s scrutinizing gaze felt like a heavy blanket over my body. I could sense the abrupt change of atmosphere, the growing distance between the two of us, the distrust.

“Well, that’s your voice Ian. If not you, who did?”, he smacked his lips.

Cream kept looking around my laptop, “This demo is very aggressive, it’s quite unlike you”, he exhorted.

“I-”.

“I like it, It has character, It’s something different from what you usually write”.

I dashed towards the computer to verify myself.

.

 「 maybeittookover.m4a」 

.

“It happened again huh…”. I murmured under my breath. That was the second time an unknown track appeared on my desktop out of the blue.

“Ian? Are you ok? You’re spacing out- like a lot”, Cream tilted his head at me, “Wait, are you high?”.

“N-no, I’m just really really really tired, that’s all…”.

Scott took a short trip to the bathroom only to throw a towel on my head.

“Wash up, we’re taking you to get a breath of fresh air”.

-

previous chapter. ✵  next chapter. ✵ masterlist

[trashballerina]

Hetalia Fics I Really Like

this  ⭐ will be for fics I really like. I’ll try not to star everything.

I’m starting with my favorite of all time and tbh I think the fandom should see this fic as a OG, like Auf Weiderstein Sweetheart or Gutters, I really do.

Are We Even Humans  ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ (Literally all the stars)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103344

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5660761/chapters/25048773 (prequel)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7036330/chapters/16007758 (sequel)

The war is over, but putting together everything that fell apart will be a greater challenge than anyone is prepared to handle. Alliances dissolve, and the lines between friends and enemies are blurrier than ever before.

Opinion: Please read it. It is a series with a sequel and a prequel that can be read on its own but it’s so good. Imma go on a quick rant here. This fic is great from the writing, plot, characters, and the nuances of nationhood abilities. I literally rioted during the first chapter because it was so good. One of my absolutely favorite things in the fic and the series as a whole is Prussia. Kingdom of Prussia, German Democratic Republic, Gilbert Beilschmidt. His character progression and seeing him through the series as a whole is astounding. I was literally left shaken at the end of this series and I’ve read it twice. The OC’s are usually the antagonists, but hot damn, they are memorable OC’s who are great (terrible?) villains. And the family dynamics! The family dynamics are enough of a reason to read it by itself and the romances. Omg I love this fic so much. Main takeaways: astounding characterization, amazing plot, will cry, long read, and a reality check on what it means to be a nation.

Would it be too much if I did a separate post on how much I love this series and an in depth analysis? (I feel like such a nerd omg)

Hard Times Passing 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23516458/chapters/56397817

Alfred is homeless during the Great Depression and in his wanderings he's charged with the task of caring for a small orphaned Taiwan. AU-Human names used, Taiwan is a child.

Opinion: So incredibly heart warming. It’s well written and I love the dialogue so much. Also, the little cameos from other characters are an absolute delight. It’s a it short, but so wholesome.

Flowers Don’t Grow on Battlefields  ⭐

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14153106/chapters/32619954

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16898919/chapters/39697068 (sequel)

As war tightens its hold on the nations of the world, new alliances are formed. Nobody will escape the war unscathed. Italy only hopes that this time, he will find a way to save those he holds dearest.

Opinion: I realllly like this fic. Maybe I’m a bit bias because I remember reading it from like to third chapter and watching it get updated till the end, but this is really good. Cute gerita, great characterization, good plot, and some lines just really make me melt. And the fluff omg. There’s a sequel that’s linked under too that I may like more than the first. 

Who Knew (One Shot)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23516695#main

“The last time the two of them had any sort of contact was when Gilbert sent the letter to Matthew before the first war started.

That was twenty-six years ago. Twenty-six years Matthew had not seen Gilbert. Twenty-six years of Matthew worrying about if his fiancé was alive or not. Twenty-six years of Matthew thinking about all the horrible things that could be happening to Gilbert. Twenty-six years of Matthew wishing he could just see Gilbert, even if it were just for a second. Twenty-six years of pure hell for Matthew. Twenty-six years of being all alone.”

Matthew Williams, the personification of Canada, never thought that he would fall in love, but he did. He fell in love with Gilbert Beilschmidt, the personification of Prussia, but their romance would have to be cut short with the up coming war that was soon approaching them.

Opinion: My god my heart. Matthew had great characterization. Like amazingly so. 10/10 somber and melodic tones throughout the story. Good tension. And again, my heart. 

TELL ME A PIECE OF YOUR HISTORY  ⭐

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3741175/chapters/8294941#workskin

An account of the media reactions to the reveal of Nations (anthropomorphic national embodiments) with scholarly commentary.

Heavily inspired by: United States v. Barnes, 617 F. Supp. 2d 143 (D.D.C. 2015) [fallingvoices, radialarch] with mixed genres.

Opinion: It’s really cool. It’s told through media, like email, twitter, texts, online magazines, subtitles of videos (not actual videos tho). I love the outside view point of the world on nations and how some people really like them and how others absolutely despise their very existence. One of the main things that sticks out the me is the in depth analysis other humans or posters do on the nations and people even interview the nations, chapter eight is like my favorite for that reason, or how some humans just gush about the nations on so media like how half the fandom does lol. It’s really good. Super creative, great insight on how to world sees the nations, and honestly a great read.

Red Winter (One shot and crossover!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/909492

The Winter Soldier's new target: a Russian politician named Ivan Braginsky.

Things don't go as planned.

Opinion: Literally so cool. Like nations are total BS to outsiders, especially assassins. I was loosing it during this fic because from Bucky’s POV nations are something else. The writing is really solid and the author uses italics to highlight an action sound or word and even single-word thoughts. The fight scene is really entertaining but also it flows fantastically. 

In Costa Rica (Oneshot)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18614041

“You have this backwards,” McLaughlin said. “Everything. You have it all backwards.” He was a lithe man, looked to be in his mid-thirties. Schnabel leaned back in his chair. Outside, the afternoon rain started, and the frogs momentarily fell silent. “They are dangerous, aren’t they?” Two men discuss the nations and history.

Opinion: No actual nations appear in this fic. It’s just two men talking about the nations and it’s really interesting to see them humor and take seriously the idea of nations. They both discuss what they already know about the nations and theorize. Also hearing an outside perspective and how the nations effect the word around them is golden. I give this fic a big ol’ chef’s kiss. 

Finally, I’ll Just Miss You! (Oneshot)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15553608

Countries will be abolished tomorrow. For the first time, they breathe and realize this might be their last breath and they’ll never wake up again. They want to wake up, they want to go to sleep, the land will still be there when they’re gone. But they breathe, it won’t be the same- for once, they feel human.

Opinion: Bro, I swear I’m not crying. This one is short but really bittersweet and my heart really hurts. I like the snippets of insight on the characters. 

Diamond in the Rough  ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12872642/1/

The year is 1952, the last full year of Joseph Stalin's rule over the Soviet Union. After an incident with Latvia, Estonia is determined to find out what Russia did to him. And so unfolds a chain of events that would lead the Baltic States to tears, to forgiveness, to unexpected courage and horrifying discoveries about the mysterious past of Gilbert Beilschmidt. See AN for rating.

Opinion: This just be a legitimate book. I have honestly read this one like three time and every time I read it I am absolutely elated to discover another detail or action I missed. It is a longer read but I think it is absolutely worth it. For one, the characterization is beautiful. Maybe I might be bias because I stan and love the Baltics, but how they are written compared to the many other fics I’ve read on them is phenomenal. While the author does take some creative liberties and deviates from canon a little, like the Baltics actually considering themselves to be brothers, I really enjoy the changes. ALSO, the history and research and on this fic is genuinely impressive. To think fic authors do this shit for fun and pour so much of their passion into a piece of writing. Secondly, while Russia may be an antagonist in this story, I honestly think it is just. His mentality, backstory, and current predicament explain his behavior and make him a justifiable antagonist. I highly recommend this one. 

Adieux (Oneshot)

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6700886/1/

What happens to nations after they cease to exist? Do they simply disappear or do they get a second chance? It wasn't a subject Francis was particularly keen on finding out about...but at the same time, it wasn't something he could just ignore. One-shot

Opinion: I hate this fic because I love it way too much. I might of cried a little bit and I instantly melt of Francis and Matthew. 

In Our Solemn Hour (incomplete) ⭐

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8975529/30/In-Our-Solemn-Hour

The time was World War II, at the dawn of a global conflict like nothing any of the Nations had ever seen before. Nothing could've prepared them for what lay ahead: a war more total and radical than anything they could ever have imagined. This wasn't just business as usual; it was centuries' worth of pent-up emotions all coming into play at once. This was indeed their darkest hour.

Opinion: Characterization is on point. One part of this fic I remember very well during a fight to the death, Finland mutters a little “Oh dear”. The characters retain some of the qualities that make them silly in Hetalia but because this is another take on it it does get darker. I think Germany’s portrayal is my favorite because he does cruel and unnesscary things and questions it because its not his usal nature. The author notes are super insightful and sometimes funny; it really adds to the rest of the story. I might revisit this post to make a more in depth opinion on it because I don’t remember it all to well when I know I really like this one.

So that was my post lol. I’ll probably make more on other fandoms later tbh or I’ll just make a part two. If you end up reading about any of these posts, please feel free to tell me about them! I love talking about fics and reading in general. Thanks for reading!

[loveisblindfanfictionbka]

Love Is Blind: Chapter Four

Leandra and Melissa sat at the cafe table with Robyn and she told them about her conversation with Chris. 

“So he’s got you thinking exactly what we’ve been telling you all these years,” Melissa mused.

“No, he just has me questioning if there was something in my marriage that I missed,” Robyn replied.

“I think you should meet him, Robs,” Leandra interjected, “you two seem to have a really good understanding.”

“No, we have a good thing going. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“I don’t think you want to be happy.”

“I do want to be happy but on my own terms. And I’m not ready. Talking to him made me think about my ex and just reminded me that I really still love him. And I don’t want to. I swear I don’t want to but something has this hold on me and-”

“We get it. Y’all were together for a long time.”

“It’s not just that. It’s- you ever meet someone and you just know that they’re it? Well he was it for me.”

“So what do you call this thing with Christian?”

“A friendship. I have no interest in making it more than that.”

“You ever been to therapy?”

“I tried it for a few weeks but I didn’t get anywhere.”

“Maybe you should try it again.”

“I don’t know.”

“Robyn, do you like being miserable or something? Is that the only thing still connecting you to Chris? Because if not, I don’t understand your apprehension to getting better.”

“I want to get better, I’m just scared of what that means.”

“Well Sis, you’ll never find out until you try.”

Robyn sat back in her office after returning from lunch with Leandra and Melissa. She didn’t have any appointments until 3 unless any emergencies came in so she had time to just think. She grabbed her phone and went to her dating app

A: Are you available to talk?

A few minutes went by before she got an answer

C: Sure, I just finished my last class. What’s up?

A: My friends think I should go to therapy

C: Ok. What do you think?

A: I’m not ready.

C: Why do you think that?

A: I don’t want to spill my guts to a stranger. Not when there’s someone who deserves it more

C: Deserves what? Your anger or your feelings?

A: My anger

C: So tell that person

A: I don't know where he is

C: So find him. I doubt your ex-husband was like some CIA type

A: Lol, no but I don’t think I’m ready to talk to him either

C: Do you ever think you’ll be ready?

A: I’m not sure

C: I think you’re thinking about it too much. Honestly, therapy should be for you and no one else. If you aren’t ready you won’t do anything but waste your money because you’ll fight everything at every turn. Nothing penetrates if you aren’t ready to hear it. And even if the therapist does happen to get through to you, it will not give you the closure that you’re seeking. The questions you want answers to, only your ex-husband can answer

A: I hate that you’re right.

C: Lol, there’s a lot of trauma that influences this rightness

A: Unfortunately. How are you? Was rude of me not to ask that first

C: You had something important to say, no worries. I’m fine. I was talking to my daughter and she wants a puppy

A: What kind?

C: Not sure yet. We’re gonna do some research before we make a decision

A: That’s good. I’ve had a lot of puppies be sent to my shelter because people didn’t pick the right dog for their lifestyle

C: That must suck. Do you have any pets?

A: No, I’m not home enough

C: Ah, understandable

A: would the puppy be your first pet?

C: No, I had a dog when I was a child but in my old profession, me and my ex were never home enough, it was always something with either my job or hers

A: That’s understandable. 

C: You ready for your gala?

A: Physically? Yes. Emotionally? No. I’m working on convincing myself not to cancel

C: Is it really that hard?

A: Yes but I made a promise to my employees and stuff so I really do want to honor that

C: Do you need another incentive?

A: Depends on what you’re suggesting

C: How about a gift? Just for your effort of going to this event

A: And how am I supposed to get said gift?

C: I can mail it. Do you have a secure mailing address you would like me to send it to?

Robyn thought about her random PO Box that she uses when she doesn’t want to give out her work or home address.

A: PO Box 124, New York, NY 10003. Do I get to know what the gift is beforehand?

C: Nope. I’ll send it and make sure it arrives the morning of your gala. Think that’ll work?

A: I guess but I’m nervous about what it could be

C: You’ll see

A: And do you have a secure mailing address?

C: PO Box 762, Middletown, NY 10940

A: Upstate. Do you travel to the city every day or?

C: No, I have a condo near Columbia. I stay during the week then go home on the weekends. 

A: How many hours of a drive?

C: Actually like 2 hours. It gives me some peace from the loud city life and gives my daughter some balance.

A: What’s it like up there?

C: Very spacious. I live in a somewhat rural part of Middletown. I have a couple acres of land surrounding my house.

A: I can’t even imagine what that would look like. Even when I lived in California, I was in the busiest part.

C: I think I appreciate it because I’m older now. I definitely enjoyed living in the city when I was in Cali

A: It holds a beautiful sense of excitement

C: Do you live near your business or far away?

A: I have an apartment nearby but I might start looking for a house soon. Maybe renovate a brownstone

C: That’s always a good deal. Would you rent out?

A: Nah. I don’t have the energy to keep up with being a landlord. It’s a job within itself

C: Very true.

A: I’m guessing you should be going, is your daughter school age?

C: She goes to a headstart program at a private school since she’s only 3 but they keep her until around 5 in aftercare. I usually have a late class today but I canceled it

A: Oh. Is something wrong?

C: No, I’d just rather not be out and about this evening.

A: Ah. Well thanks for talking with me. I got an appointment coming in soon

C: Anything major?

A: Nope. Just a check up

C: Well if you have time, I’d love to talk to you again

A: Talk or chat?

C: Talk

A: My clinic closes at 7 so I should be home by 8

C; And dinner?

A: I’ll probably grab something on the way home

C: So how about a dinner date then? We’ll eat and keep each other company

A: I’d like that

C: Great. See you at 8

A: See you at 8

Robyn closed her app then rested her head on her desk. She was drained.

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

“So what color is her dress? Jessica asked as she and Chris stood in the florist shop. 

“It’s navy blue.”

“I think this corsage would be perfect. It’s simple, elegant and can be pinned to the dress instead of being situated on her wrist.”

Chris walked over the piece his sister was referring to. It contained a navy blue rose, a white rose and some baby breaths, “I like that one.”

“Do they deliver to PO Boxes?”

“Yea, that’s why I picked this shop and it’s fairly close to the Post Office where her PO Box is.”

“Why didn’t you just get her work address?”

“The whole point is to be strangers. Giving me her work address would defeat that purpose. She’s an established vet, I could probably look up her work address and find her, which, again, defeats the point.”

“Do you know what she looks like?”

“Not really. Her photo was a full body shot so the closer you zoom in the blurrier it gets. Same as mine.”

“And that doesn’t worry you? What if she’s ugly?”

Chris laughed, “what does that matter? We don’t ever plan on meeting each other. 

Besides I’m not allowed to be nice to a possibly physically unattractive woman?

“You know that’s not what I’m saying. It’s just- I don’t understand this whole online dating thing”

“There’s nothing to understand because we’re not dating.”

“Yea. Right.”

“We are both in rebuilding stages of our lives and we like talking to each other. That’s all. If I was interested in more, I’d definitely would’ve insisted on meeting her or just moved on by now.”

“You told her about your nervous breakdown and suicide attempt. You haven’t even told your ex-wife that and you want me to believe you’re not dating.”

“Yes because we aren’t.”

“You’re buying her gifts?”

“I buy my friends gifts all the time.”

“You told her about Anesa.”

“And?”

“You talk almost everyday.”

“I’m not seeing your point.”

“My point is you’re dating this woman.”

“Jessica, big sister, I am not dating anyone. I like her, yes but that’s as far as it goes. I need a friend and she’s one for me. That’s it. That’s all.”

“You are so in denial, Chris.”

“I’ve accepted my situation, you’re the one with the conspiracy theories.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t want an ugly sister in law especially not after my last one. She was gorgeous and the point is to upgrade not backslide.”

“You get on my nerves, Jess.”

Jessica laughed, “is this all you’re getting for your friend?”

“Just because you said it like that, I am returning you home and finishing this adventure by myself.”

“Come on, don’t be like that Little Brother.”

“Then stop making this a bigger deal than what it is.”

   This was definitely a big deal. Robyn stared at the box of things Chris had delivered to her PO Box and her heart melted a bit. The flower corsage with navy and white roses was beautiful. She loved the card that came attached but what shook her was the books he had gifted. One night they had stayed up talking about literature and she mentioned that she loved poetry but never had the time to really build up a collection. Wrapped with a red bow were two compilations of black poets. The note under the bow stated, “I’d like to contribute the first books to your poetry collection. It’s always good to start with the essentials (smile).”

Robyn grabbed one of the books and sat down in a chair just as Leandra walked in with her hairstylist beside her.

“What’s all this?” Leandra asked.

“My friend sent me a gift.”

“Your online friend?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, he must really like you.”

“I like him too.”

“Did you send something back?”

“I just got this, this morning so I’m still thinking.”

“How’d he get your address?”

“He doesn't have it. I gave him my PO Box.”

“Oh your stalker box.”

“Don’t start, Lele.”

“So how you feel?”

“I’m ok. I still don’t wanna go.”

“Girl, I ain’t talking about this stupid ass gala. How do you feel about Chris?”

“What am I supposed to feel? I really love the gifts but that’s it”

“I’m looking at your face and it’s more than that.”

“He got me poetry books.”

“What? You found someone to indulge your weird ass literature taste.”

“Look, just because you only like sex books doesn’t make my taste weird. I am cultured.”

“I have a master’s degree too so save it. How’d he know to get that?”

“We had a conversation about books and I told him I always wanted to start a collection of poetry but never had the time nor knew where to start and I guess he remembered.”

“What made him send you a gift?”

“It was a little joke about how he could get me to not back out of the gala. I honestly wasn’t expecting him to go through with it but he did.”

“A man who keeps his word. He really likes you.”

“I know.”

“So...still never gonna meet him in person?”

“That was never part of the deal.”

Leandra groaned as she flopped down on the couch, “are you at least gonna get some from somebody at this gala?”

“Ewww….no. I’m staying at most an hour then coming back home.”

“Have you talked to Chris?”

“Not today.”

“Do you only chat on the app?”

“Yea.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“I thought you would’ve gotten his phone number by now.”

“Nah, that’s too personal. I wouldn’t give my number to someone I haven’t met yet.”

“So meet him.”

“No.”

“Ugh….you get on my nerves, Robyn.”

Robyn laughed, “what’s your plans for tonight?”

“Getting the baby from his father and going home.”

“How is my nephew?”

“He’s good.”

“And his father?”

“Still alive, unfortunately.”

“Don’t do Max like that.”

“He gets on my nerves.”

“How?”

“He keeps asking me if we’re getting back together.”

“Aww...Lele, he still loves you.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“And you still love him too. You always playing hard to get.”

“Ch….I am hard to get. Thank you very much.”

“Is that why y’all keep going on vacations together?”

“If a man wants to take me to Puerto Rico or Costa Rica free of charge, who am I to say no?”

Robyn laughed, “Lord, what are we gonna do with you?”

“Love me, duh.”

Leandra stayed until Robyn was ready to leave for the gala. As she climbed into the back of car, she grabbed her phone

A: Hey stranger

A few minutes passed before she received an answer.

C: Hey. How are you?

A: I’m great. On my way to the gala

C: Still decided against an escort?

A: Yea. Besides, I don’t plan on staying there long.

C: Ah ok

A: So….thank you for the gifts. The corsage is perfect for my dress

C: You’re very welcome. My sister helped me pick that out.

A: Tell her I said thank you

C: I will

A: So what are you up to?

C; Laundry and grading work

A: What’s the task this week?

C: Students had to craft an original piece of music modeled after a piece they enjoy so I’ve been listening to music tracks all day

A: How’s it sounding?

C: I’ve gotten a few good ones but what passes for music and what these students are modeling their pieces after is awful. 

A: That bad?

C: Some of these songs just can’t find a key and then when I listen to their reference tracks, I understand why. Music production has gotten so lazy over the years

A: You think so?

C: I’m gonna send you the best one I’ve heard and the worst one and tell me what you think

A: I’m getting homework now too, Professor

C: Lol. I just want you to hear what I’m dealing with

A: Send it. I’ll get back to you when I can

C: No rush. I’ll be home all weekend with this.

A: Cool. How’s the puppy search going?’

C: Good. We’ve narrowed it down to three puppies. I told her she has one week to pick one and then we’ll find a place to buy it.

A: As a shelter owner, please try and get a shelter dog. So many of them are good dogs that were in bad situations.

C: I will keep that in mind.

A: That’s all I ask

C: So what’s your plans after the gala?

A: Home.

C: Up for a video chat?’

A: Absolutely. I kinda miss your automated voice

C: Lol Same here

A: Anything else going on

C: Nope. I live a rather simple life.

A: Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

C: To be honest, I’m not quite sure

A: Something giving you doubts

C: My daughter told me she feels sad for me

A: Aww...why?

C: Because I’m alone. It’s kinda hard to explain to a three year old the difference between alone and lonely

A: Lol true but then don’t explain with words, show her with actions. She probably thinks you don’t have a life and for children, they haven’t commanded the power and beauty of peace and stillness. They still have so much they haven’t explored

C: You have a point

A: Honestly, if you find things to do when she’s not around, she’ll probably feel a bit better about you

C: I’ll have to find me a new hobby then

A: What’s your current hobby?

C: I don’t really have one to be honest. My job involves music now so it’s not really a hobby anymore

A: It could be, it’s not like you make music for your class, do you?

C: Not recently

A; Do you sing, play instruments? What?

C: I have a decent voice but I play the piano, the guitar, and can do alright by the saxophone

A: What type of music do you prefer to play?

C: Nothing like an old school soul song. I love playing Sade records on the sax

A: I might have to compel you to play for me one day

C: I would offer to play tonight but my instruments are in storage

A: No rush. It’s just a thought

C: I’d love to play for you though

A: You making me feel inadequate

C: In what way?

A: The gifts. The music offers. Doesn’t feel like we’re on even footing

C: Well only you know what you have to offer. Find what works. I’m always open for gifts or moments

A: I’m gonna have to think of something. Thank you for the poetry books by the way. It’s a good start of a collection

C: The classics are always your best bet

A: I’m a little surprised you remembered

C: Why? 

A: It was such an odd conversation and it was late when we had it, surely you wouldn’t have remembered it

C: That’s a weird assumption. If there is one thing I’ve learned from being married, it’s learning to listen just as much as you like to talk. Reciprocity is the key.

A: Very true.

C: Are you at the gala yet?

A: Just pulled up

C: Well I hope you have a good night for however long you are there

A: I hope they do the award ceremony first so I can get my award and leave

C: If I gotta try and find a life, you need to live yours. You never know you may enjoy the time

A: We’ll see. Talk to you later

C: Later 

[yvixtrae]

Youngmin x Gender Neutral!! Reader

A/N: So... Just a little warning of sorts...?? It involves quite of bit of mentioning of depression, so... Yeah... Just a heads up, it's an entire mess.

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[To: Min-Min]

Hey, um... Sorry to bother, but... If by any chance that you're still up, do you have a minute to talk...??

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You give a shaky breath as you stare down at your message, tears silently trailing down your cheeks, the time in the top right corner of your phone reading 4:10 in the morning and making you all the more anxious and scared about bothering Youngmin.

It hurts, all of the feelings swirling around in you. Intense mavericks of sadness, loneliness, stress, fear, and so much more crash down upon you, making you sink even further into the sense of being abandoned and lost, of being absolutely shattered with no hope of being fixed.

Not even a minute after your thoughts begin racing, a ding from your phone catches your attention, signalling his reply.

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[To: Y/N]

What're you saying sorry for? It's not a bother, Y/N.

Besides, I told you that if you ever needed me, I'd be here to talk.

So, I'll be over in 5, and then you can tell me what's on your mind. Alright?

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A fresh wave of tears bursts forth from you as you type up your reply, hands trembling from the effort of suppressing the sobs threatening to rip themselves from your throat.

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[To: Min-Min]

Alright.

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You stare down at your phone as guilt rises in you, unable to feel anything other than that you're nothing but a bother to him.

A sudden tapping at your window makes you tear your teary gaze away from your messages and look up to see that Youngmin's right outside.

After letting him in, it's not a moment later that he's dragging you back to your bed and sitting down, leaning back against the headboard as you rest between his legs with your head against his chest.

He looks down at you with an expectant expression, and you know he's waiting for you to talk.

"The usual," You mumble, avoiding his eyes by burying your face into his chest, "Things just feel painful and heavy."

"Y/N..." He sighs, "You can't just bottle things up, give a half-assed answer, and expect things to get better."

"Mm-hmm." You respond, your tears dripping onto his shirt to create small wet spots.

"So what's been bothering you??" His tone is softer now, and he moves his hand to rub your back gently, "And before you say it, I'm not going to think that it's stupid or anything. Not when it seems to be upsetting you this much."

You take a moment to look up at him, and upon seeing the warmth in his chocolate orbs, you cave and begin to speak.

"I don't exactly know where to start, but... To sum it up, I've been feeling a lot of things. I've been feeling a lot of stress and anxiety over classes and even fear over thoughts of the future and what could happen. I've been feeling really sad and guilty and regretful of the mistakes I'd made and that so much of what I considered to be good is gone. I still feel like I'm lost somehow. I've been feeling ridiculously lonely recently. I've been feeling worthless, because I don't know what my purpose is."

You pause as a sob escapes you, and you look away to place your head back down as you can't help but hate how more tears make an appearance.

"It all feels like it's too much, like it's too heavy." He begins, still rubbing your back.

"Like I'm far out at sea and deep underneath the surface, drowning as the infinite weight shackled to me pulls me even further under." You hiccup as you continue to quietly sob, your voice muffled by the wet material of his shirt.

As your breathing picks up rapidly, your vision goes a even blurrier aside from your crying and your head feels foggy. Feeling your lungs sting from how your shallow and uneven breaths can't provide enough air, you begin to feel the start of panic and fear rising in you.

Youngmin begins to worry, but then remembers reading up on mindfulness and grounding techniques and things of the like for the sake of time like this.

He sits up a little bit more, adjusting you so you're sitting comfortably in his lap and facing him.

"Shh... Breathe. Just breathe." He murmurs, grabbing his phone to turn on the song he remembered you saying was your current favorite and offering up his free hand, "It's okay... I'm here. I've got you. Just breathe and focus on the lyrics. Focus on the beat. Focus on the way their voices sound. If you'd like, hold my hand and focus on the warmth from it, focus on me if it comes to it."

You give a small nod, immediately placing your hand in his and paying attention to each bit of the music, though you continue to struggle with your breathing.

"Deep breaths, Y/N. Inhale 4 seconds, hold 4 seconds, exhale 4 seconds. You can do it. In and out, slowly."

Another nod, and you pay attention to him, his voice and how it's almost always able to soothe you. Taking a shaky breath in, you try to count out along the beats of the music that's only background noise now as your eyes are trained on his. It takes a few tries, but you manage to follow the pattern he mentioned, making it all the way to the end of the song.

Reaching up to his face, you ghost your fingertips lightly over his features, remembering how he'd shared a few thing about grounding and how contact with something or someone comforting is a very common but effective way. You pay attention to the way his hand warms your other one. You pay attention to all of the little details and keep breathing as you move your hand down, tracing from his forehead to under his eyes, from his cheekbone to the bridge of his nose, and down to his lips.

"You're doing good." He whispers, his free hand gently moving your hand from his lips to rest over his chest, "Focus on my warmth, my voice, my heartbeat."

You feel how his pulse, though it seems to be almost fluttery, it still feels strong and steady. It still feels nice and calming.

"Now, Y/N... Listen, you're doing great with your classes. There's no need to worry too much with that. No need to stress. With the future, what will be will be. We can only do our best now to try and have the best future possible. As for the past, you may remember things, but don't dwell on them. The past can't be changed, but it's alright." He takes a moment before continuing, "And Y/N... You're worth so much... Never think otherwise, because it's simply not true. You're worth so much. You're enough. You're valid. Your best is more than enough. Most of all, even if today isn't the day thay you know your purpose, someday you'll know. Because I believe you'll make your own purpose. Alright??"

One beat, two, three. You focus on the rhythm of his pulse and count, listening and nodding.

"I know that things seem bleak now, almost like... You're seeing black and white. But if you need me to, I'll paint you a clear blue sky." He murmurs, a slight rosy tint adorning his cheeks "So there's no need for it to rain every time you open your eyes..."

Scarlet flares up on your own face as you smile, "I thought referencing songs was my thing..."

"Yeah, but I figured it was a nice thing to say nonetheless." He returns the smile, and you feel your heart melt a little at the sight.

Leaning forwards a bit, you let your head rest on his shoulder and go back to counting his heart beats.

"Youngmin..." You take another deep breath as you consider all of the years you'd kept your feelings silent for the sake of the 15 year friendship you have.

"Hmm??" He hums in response.

"Nevermind." You try to back out, thinking that maybe confessing wasn't a good idea.

"No, what is it??" He raises an eyebrow while going back to rubbing your back, knowing that it'll help with any nerves.

"It's stupi-- Well..." You try to keep your voice steady as you already feel like it's useless to say anything, "Pick me??"

His eyes widen at that, and a few moments pass by in silence. You begin to panic again at his lack of response, and try to leave his lap as you open your mouth to start apologizing, but his arms snake around your waist and he gives you a warm grin and his chuckles lightly.

You feel as if you want to shrink from his gaze, but there's curiosity for what he'll say.

"Y/N," He continues with his grin, "Did you really just reference a song to express your feelings??"

With a sheepish nod, you look away as you wait for his response.

"Of course I pick you. I'll pick you over and over, day after day, until my heart flatlines and my lungs give out." You raise your head at that, and he leans in slightly.

"Thank god, I don't think that I could've handled you sticking me in the friend zone."

"Y/N..." He groans, though the grin only grows, "If you just referenced another song, my own group's song... I swear--"

"What're you gonna do about it??"

He raises and eyebrow at this, leaning back in, lips close enough to almost brush yours. As a blush crosses your face at the closeness, he stays still, eyes seeming to question if he can kiss you.

With a tentative nod, he then closes the distance, the kiss sweet and gentle, lasting only a few seconds before he pulls away. You find yourself almost disappointed when he does, but he comes back with another kiss before you can protest somehow. It lasts a little bit longer, with his lips moving languidly against yours. When he pulls away again, you feel satiated, and smile.

"Well, since it's..." He checks the time on his phone, "quarter to 5 now, I'm crashing here."

"That's fine." Your laugh turns into a faint yelp as he drags you down with him.

As you land on top of him, he rolls onto his side, you doing the same due to his arms remaining around you, and you find yourself tucking your head under his chin.

"Min-Min??" You start, settling into his warmth.

"Hmm??" He hums.

"Thank you. For coming over tonight. For sticking around for so many years. For everything."

"No problem. Like I said then, and it still stands now, I'll always be there when you need me."

Silence ensues as you both lay there comfortably and drift off.