#I’ve always had back pain but not normally this strong

[asexualjedi]

My back hurts so badly I want to lay down but I can’t bc I have gerd so I need to wait hours after eating to not be sitting up perfectly straight or I’ll suffer terribly. BUT. The way I’m sitting I’m having to hold my phone up real high so my head won’t be titled down bc I’m also having bad neck pain that started later today. And like haha that’s messing up my chronic hand issues. It’s. Truly. Today kinda sucks lol. I just wanted to get my training done for my journal done today. So I could sew some tomorrow but I couldn’t bc I was in so much pain I was making a lot of simple mistakes and couldn’t focus. Hopefully the back pain will not get worse like it has been the past day or two. And I I’ll be able to finish it before it’s due lol haha.

[xazse]

okay hear me out…. reverse hybrid au… with tigerhybrid!sukuna bc nobody else can handle him because he’s so aggressive and overbearing .. so reader is their last resort zoo caretaker and they’re is shocked at how it’s like reader has a leash on tigerhybrid!sukuna 😚

I’VE GOT IT?

Synopsis: You’re head of a completely different department so why are you being asked to help with an odd situation?

Warnings: Female!reader + Mean!Sukuna + cringe tropes (sorry) + Hybrid!Sukuna: ears and a tail + heat + cumming inside + doggy + NOTPROOFREAD!!! + obsessed!Sukuna

Pairings: Tigerhybrid!Sukuna x female!Reader

Notes: I’m really working to improve my writing for you guys!! Esp my non-English speakers

“Miss please you know we would never beg like this if it wasn’t urgent.”

“I don’t specialize in that field, how many times must I tell you?”

You were getting sick of these scientists coming to you more often than normal, there’s three right now begging for you to take on a case that you didn’t want to do.

“Sukuna is out of control, he’s already injured five of our best, now they refuse to work with him”

“And I should be the sixth?” You say with a quirk of your brow.

They all stop and stare at one another, you have a good ass point what makes them think that you’ll be the antidote for their beast they decided to keep.

“Like I said, my stance on this won’t change.”

Another voice in the doorway of your office speaks up: “I’ll upgrade your pay and have you transferred up.”

Your ears perk up at this offer, to go even further where you are right now means business and a fuck ton of money. On the flip side it means facing whatever they’re against but you’ve always been a little greedy for money so you oblige.

The scientists made sure to throw you in the thinnest garments: “to let him know you don’t have anything on you.” As they put it.

They also had told you no sudden movements and to talk with him in a calm manner, show him you aren’t afraid and find out what’s been making him so angry lately. Easy peasy except your life is on the line!

You disregard any negative thoughts of death and make your way into the place where they keep their hybrids, it’s like little apartments where they can do as they please in return for information on their biology, as far as you know they love it here. You’ve once met puppy!hybrids Satoru and Suguru they were very sweet men, needy but sweet.

Your first step into the apartment is met with a strong smell, a smell of something primal if that even has a smell. It’s warm.

You start poking around his place, checking his fridge and looking for anything out of the ordinary, nothing seems amiss though. It’s not until you come up to one of the doors and hear slight noises. You press your ear up closer making the noise more clearer: whining it sounds like whining.

Could he perhaps be In pain? You knock three times and announce you’re coming in. The door clicks and you start slowly pulling it open. You see the man in all his glory resting upon his bed, arms wrapped around his pillow and an unreadable expression.

Sukuna is big, he’s a big man compared to all the other hybrids, he’s brimming with pure muscle. Does he workout in here? Your thoughts are interrupted by slight growling: he’s warning you. Step any close r and he will have no choice but to harm you.

You pay him no mind, instead you step fully in and start looking around without a care in the world.

“You’re making trouble- why is that?” You say while looking through his dresser.

“You’re being extremely nosy, leave before I kill you.” He threatens harshly.

“If you harm me I’ll have you sent somewhere else, I know where you come from and I’m assuming you don’t want to go back.”

The room goes eerily silent like he’s making a choice, he opens his mouth to speak but a groan accidentally slips past his lips.

Oh… the big oaf is in heat, and top scientists couldn’t tell or try to track his cycle?

“You in heat big guy?”

“No-“

“Such a liar, I’m not here to make fun of you, I’m here to make sure you get proper help.”

“The only way I’ll get proper help is if I fuck someone.” So damn blunt you think to yourself.

He continues speaking: “I think you know they won’t allow that though.”

“Would you like some toys? I can request that for you.”

“Useless.”

You let out the loudest sigh and plop down on his fluffy bed. Bending your head in his direction you see he’s not looking at your face but your body, eyes fully trained on your pert nipples because of the cold.

You allow the poor suffering hybrid to mount you, putting a good bit of his weight on your back you can feel the outline of his thick meaty cock resting near your cunt and ass.

He’s hard, fully hard and probably has been for a while: you feel almost a little bad.

Sukuna doesn’t waste anytime grinding down against you, it feels so fucking good, his cock is accepting anything even if it’s the bare minimum. Everytime he meets your ass he whines, such a needy tiger you coo.

He’s ignoring all the dirty little comments you send his way too focused on the only good sensation he’s felt for a while, his hand doesn’t compare to your rounded ass. You reach between your legs and pull his shorts down, letting his cock bob free for a minute before he’s pushing up against you again.

He’s producing so much precum that youCan feel it through your silky garments.

“Smells so good… really good.” “Mhhhphmmm-“ he’s now being open with his groans too focused on the feeling of his tip prodding your clothed pussy. His swishing tail is within your eyesight, you grab it and rub it for extra stimulation.

You help him a little bit by bouncing your ass against him. He places his head in the crook of your neck and starts nibbling on your neck, you can feel how sharp his damn teeth are and pray to yourself he isn’t going to bite you: killing you in the process.

He doesn’t do any of that instead he just lightly bites, using no strength at all. While he’s busying tearing up your neck you slip your panties off, grabbing his fat length and teasing your wet hole. Just feeling it in your hand has your body burning up in arousal it’s been a while since you’ve had a cock, especially a cock his size.

You slowly start inching it in, the stretch is so damn unbearable and uncomfortable. When he feels what you’re doing he starts moving his hips already. An impatient thing such as him isn’t gonna wait. He gets about halfway in and you feel a thick liquid fill you, did this beast just cum? Already?

“Nhhhnn.. fuck-..” this doesn’t deter him because he’s sitting fully on his knees and pulling you flush against him, his entire length snuggly inside your pussy. He doesn’t wait to bounce you back on him, you can’t comprehend anything properly so shocked by how he just made you take every inch of him.

Your lashes flutter closed as he ruts into you like you’re the damn sex tox he’s been given, one he wasn’t gonna take care of properly. His hold on you is extremely tight so you can do nothing but take him fully, even when your walls threaten to constrict around him he pushes through it and keeps fucking Into you.

You allow him, allow him to thrust like a wild animal, mercilessly pulling all the way out of you just to slam back in. Drool is seeping down your neck where he’s latched on in droves. He’s far too gone, pussy has never felt this good.

By the end Sukuna is still rutting uselessly, he’s not even hard anymore he just can’t stop leaking cum nor has that good euphoric feeling stopped. He’s made a mess of your pussy, his cum and yours seeping down your thighs and onto his ruined sheets.

Hes licking at your face and you can hear a deep rumbling in his chest, this big hybrid is purring in content. Any attempt to move from under him is completely halted, he won’t let you move even an inch.

He begins sucking on your nipples, they’re definitely gonna be sore later but now it seems he just wants comfort and you fully give that to him. Rubbing his ears and whispering sweet nothings to him.

After that incident Sukuna is completely attached, he constantly whines for you to come see him including the scientists also calling for you to calm him down. He won’t let you have a moments peace.

Even when you tell him you’re extremely busy he’s having none of it, if he wants you to laze around and do nothing but rub him or praise/coddle him he completely expects it!

As his mate you’re meant to be with him all the time you should be grateful he’s even letting you leave the nest.

You were left fully shocked when he first called you his mate but the scientists explained that you were his first and now you are his last, they had all praised you because testing was made easier if you were there.

They’re all surprised to see him completely like mush under you, like one time when it was time for his blood to be drawn he made you come and sit in his lap while he had it taken. The doctors said he seemed to be completely smitten with you, in love and so possessive.

[azrielsrealmate]

alcohol and pancakes

azriel x reader

summary: azriel was always devoted to you, but when drunk? He was clingy, touchy and devoted. And he wanted to take care of you even if his mind was spinning.

warnings: mentions of alcohol?

word count: 1.3k

this is a silly little thing because I’ve just read somewhere that Azriel gets clingy when drunk and oh my god that’s sooo cute 😭

Your touch on his cheek was like a soothing balm for a wound that throbbed and stung, with each languid and incredibly soft stroke easing the pain more and more. He let go, leaning into your touch.

Why did he always have to be the tough and unbreakable guy? He wasn’t that tough, nor unbreakable, he was just... himself. And your gentle caresses made him want to whimper. His honeyed eyes closed with a hum of satisfaction, and you laughed softly. Why was even your laugh soft? Azriel didn’t understand. Azriel didn’t want to understand.

“How much have you had to drink?” you asked, arching both eyebrows in pure tenderness.

It took Azriel several seconds to process the question, in reality, he had drunk quite a bit. But that didn’t diminish any of the things he wanted to do with you, which at the moment was nothing more than resting his face between your generous breasts. He nuzzled your palm, breathing in and pressing a soft kiss.

“Not too much.”

Liar. Lies. A shadow whispered in his ear, and Azriel nearly growled, brushing it aside and nuzzling your hand further.

“Ah, I see,” you murmured, entertained by the sight—a warrior nearly two meters tall, and a spy no less, clinging to you like a needy child craving affection. Your voice was drenched in amusement, dripping over him just enough to make him open his eyes slightly.

“I’m not that drunk.” He almost whined, his eyebrows furrowing, and you had to stifle another giggle. Not wanting to offend the oh-so-scary shadowsinger that was hovering over your body, laid across your marriage bed.

“I’m not that drunk,” Azriel repeated, this time with a firmer, almost defiant tone, though it wasn’t as firm or defiant as he intended, because you could see the tremor at the corner of his lip, trying not to smile like a fool upon seeing your own smile. He reminded you more of Nyx trying to convince you that he wasn’t sleepy at bedtime just to spend more time with you, than of the five-hundred-year-old spy that he was.

His eyes, usually as inscrutable as the night sky, were now clouded by a mixture of alcohol and a tenderness he rarely allowed himself to show—a vulnerability that made you stroke his cheek once more.

“Azriel…” you whispered with a gentleness that only softened the normally sharp edges of his face further. You could see the freckles scattered across his nose, small and nearly invisible, like tiny constellations marking his skin. And the slight green ring in the center of his eyes, and a few strands of hair longer than the others.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of you,” he said, burying his face in the crook of your neck, this time sounding more resolute, acceptably more resolute, as he breathed in your scent like it was a balm he desperately needed. The way his body, so big and strong, curled up against yours was a delightful paradox you couldn’t help but enjoy. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to pull him closer. You felt the weight of his head on your shoulder, the brush of his dark hair against your cheek. “I can take care of you... always.”

A soft laugh, impossible to contain, escaped your lips. The irony of his words filled your chest with a playful warmth. “Really?” you teased, your hands caressing his back with the same slow indulgence of someone petting a spoiled kitten. Carefully avoiding his wings, so as not to turn clingy-drunk Azriel into horny-clingy-drunk Azriel. “Then, if you’re so capable, why don’t you go down to the kitchen and make me some dinner?” You were pretty sure he would wobble if he got up.

Azriel lifted his head, his eyes gleaming with a determined light that almost made you regret your words. He could make you dinner—no, he should make it for you. You were his mate, and he had lost count of how many nights he had come home dazed with exhaustion only to find a warm dinner and loving arms.

Before you could react, he got up from the bed with the agility of a feline, the weight of his determination palpable in the air, your thoughts incredibly wrong; he didn’t wobble even once.

“Azriel, no—” you began, reaching for his arm as he headed toward the door. “It was a joke, I’ve already eaten, please don’t try to make me dinner when you’re in this state…”

He didn’t listen, or decided not to, moving through the room with that lethal grace so natural to him. You were forced to follow him as he made his way down the hallway and then down the stairs to the kitchen.

When you reached the kitchen, you made sure to turn on the lights because Azriel hadn’t bothered, given that he was already opening the cabinets, inspecting their contents with an intensity that almost made you worry.

“I’ll make you pancakes,” he announced, and you laughed, so much that your cheeks turned red.

“Pancakes?” you approached him, placing a hand on his arm in an attempt to stop him. “Az, that’s not dinner.”

“It will be,” he said, determined, and his stubbornness brought another smile to your face. There was no stopping him now, so you resigned yourself to helping him.

He continued to inspect the cabinet contents, searching for something that he didn’t even have in mind. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle—he was so determined that he didn’t even seem lost.

“How about you start by getting the flour?” Azriel’s eyes lit up as if he finally remembered something. He grabbed the bag of flour. Then he looked back at the other contents in the cabinet, and you wanted to laugh again.

“The eggs and then the milk.” As he pulled out the ingredients with hands that were skilled but slightly shaky, you stayed close. He observed everything he had taken out, all placed on the counter, and then directed those hazel, clouded eyes at you, tentatively, in a silent question.

“That’s all we need.”

“Ah… I knew that.” He said as if trying to convince you of something.

“Of course you did, I wouldn’t doubt that my clever shadowsinger knew.” You were teasing him, but he didn’t even notice. Though you did notice the red that brushed his cheeks.

You handed him the bowl and the ingredients, watching with amusement as he measured and poured, his brow furrowed in concentration. His hands, which usually wielded weapons with deadly skill, now worked with adorable clumsiness to mix the ingredients. As he stirred, fearing that Azriel might spill too much of the mixture out of the bowl, you moved closer to help him, your hands gently falling over his, trying to guide him. Azriel froze for a second, and you knew almost instinctively that he was looking at the scars covering his hands, so different from the softness of yours. You offered him a warm smile, quickly making him forget about it.

The warmth of the kitchen was comforting, but not as much as the warmth radiating from his body next to yours. That warrior who could bring down armies was now focused on making pancake batter with the same seriousness he would approach any crucial task. And though pancakes weren’t a conventional dinner, you knew that the dedication he was putting into them made them more special than any banquet.

“Is this good?” he murmured, turning his face toward you, and for a moment, his honeyed eyes met yours.

“Perfect,” you replied softly, allowing yourself a small moment of respite in his closeness, enjoying the tenderness hidden behind that façade of hardness.

Azriel nodded, satisfied, before turning toward the pan that was already starting to heat. And as he poured the mixture, you couldn’t help but admire him, so determined and so devoted. All for you. All yours.

[aquaticmercy]

Love in Full Bloom

Summary : Bucky thinks everything he touches dies, but the plants in your apartment prove otherwise.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : PTSD, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff!!

Requested by : myself 

Word count : 1.5k

Note : This was another idea I had to turn into a fic, inspired by all the houseplants I’ve accidentally killed rip. Enjoy!

Requests are open!

It wasn’t unusual for Bucky to lose himself in his thoughts. From time to time, you would find him sitting on the corner of the bed in the middle of the night. The memories from his past grew like weeds in his mind. He could barely distinguish them from nightmares. 

Even when he was with you, safe and in the comfort of your shared apartment, he still carried those ghosts on his shoulders. Still thought himself as a soul occupying the vessel of a weapon, like a rose with the sharpest thorns.

But to you, Bucky Barnes was far from just a weapon. He was not a monster. He was gentle, thoughtful, and kind. It hurt that he couldn’t see it for himself.

That’s why, when he agreed to move in with you, you saw it as a step in the right direction.

Your apartment has always been a safe haven for the both of you. It felt warm and cosy, the shelves full of books and plants. At least, the plants you tried to keep alive. They were struggling under your care—yellowing leaves, wilted stems, dying flowers. You were throwing root-rotted plants away monthly. Still, you bought more, hoping you’d have better luck this time.

Then Bucky moved in.

As the days passed, the plants stopped dying. Slowly, they began to thrive. The wilting leaves came to life, the stems grew strong. To you, it didn’t make sense. You hadn’t done anything differently but the plants seemed to respond to something.

Or rather, someone.

—

Today, Bucky had barely said a word, save for the quiet I love yous here and there. 

You had learned, over time, how to read his silences. But this was different—he was slipping farther than usual.

You had convinced Bucky to spar with you today, trying to keep his mind busy, preventing it from spiralling any further.

You weren’t a super-soldier by any means, but you liked the idea of keeping up with your self-defence training. 

He had always been cautious, holding back. He pulled his punches, making sure you were safe, no matter how intense the session became. 

Bucky shifted his stance as you circled him, your eyes focused, searching for an opening. His metal arm hung stiffly by his side, as if there were vines holding it down towards the ground.

He glanced down at his metal arm.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice strained.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine, Buck.”

He didn’t answer, but his eyes flickered with doubt as he stepped forward. You could feel the hesitation in every move he made, the way his punches lacked the usual fluidity you’ve seen him have in the battlefield. 

“Bucky, come on,” you teased lightly, though you could sense his unease. “I can’t learn if you pull back.”

His jaw tightened. 

Bucky’s strength, normally so controlled, felt heavy, like a twisted root of the past curling around him. Every step he took felt like treading on fragile soil, where one wrong move could uproot everything he had built with you.

You made another attempt, stepping in closer, and for a split second, you saw fear flash in his gaze.

You miscalculated a move, your foot slipping as Bucky’s metal arm swung out in a reflex. His fist connected with your side, harder than either of you intended. The force knocked the breath from your lungs as you hit the mat, pain shooting through your ribs. You gasped, instinctively clutching your side.

Bucky froze, his eyes widening like lily pads. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak.

“I’m okay,” you wheezed as you struggled to sit up.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. His gaze started darting from your face to his left hand.

“I... I didn’t mean to,” he whispered with a voice so soft you could barely hear it.

In that moment, his mind went through the faces of those he’d harmed and those he couldn’t save. He could not pull away from the horror that had been growing rapidly in his bones.

“It was an accident,” you said gently, “I’m fine.”

But he didn’t seem to hear you. He took a step back. Then another.

“No… no… I can’t…” His voice wilted. 

“Bucky,” you pleaded, standing up slowly, but he took another step back, his eyes wide with panic. 

“I—everything I touch…” His words trailed off into a broken whisper, “...dies.”

—

That night, Bucky didn’t sleep in the bed. He wouldn’t even come near it. 

No matter how much you reassured him, no matter how many times you told him it was just an accident, Bucky just would not forgive himself.

You woke up early the next morning, the sunlight streaming in as you stepped into the living room. You found Bucky still asleep on the couch. 

You sighed softly. You didn't want to wake him— not just yet.

You knew he didn’t mean it, but the now dull ache in your side reminded you of the man he was forced to be. While you trusted him more than anyone, there was a flicker of fear, not of him, but for him—of how deep underground his self-hatred could reach, like a root searching for water to feed on.

You moved to the windowsill, where your plants stood in their usual spot. Your eyes studied the vibrant green. That’s when it clicked.

You scanned your memories, then realized the simple things he had been doing purely out of instinct: pushing a plant toward the light when he noticed it looked too far from the window, adding water when he saw the soil was too dry. When he’d notice the leaves drooping, he’d check them, mimicking what he’d seen other people do without thinking twice about it.

Bucky had said everything he touches dies, but what if he had been wrong?

—

When Bucky stirred awake, you were sitting cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, watching him closely. He blinked groggily, and the moment he saw you, he rubbed a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry,” he started, his voice low and cracked. It was the first thing he said, and it broke your heart.

“I know,” you said softly, kneeling in front of the couch. You reached for his hand, but he flinched away. You sighed.

“But baby, look,” you whispered, pointing to the windowsill where your plants thrived, their leaves stretching toward the sunlight. “Not everything you touch dies.”

He glanced at them, confused, “What?”

“You’ve been taking care of them.”

He stared at you, trying to figure out what you meant. You gestured toward the plants again.

“Ever since you moved in, you’ve been watering them, moving them into the sunlight, making sure they’re healthy.” You pointed to the vibrant leaves. “I don’t think you realise it.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in disbelief, his gaze drifting between you and the plants. 

He slowly stood up, walking over to the windowsill. His hand hovered over the leaves as if he was afraid to touch them, afraid they might wilt under his fingers. But they didn’t. 

He stared at the plants. “This can’t...' His voice was soft. “I hurt people, I ruin things, I don’t—”

You stood up and walked to him. You touched his cheek, guiding his eyes back to the strong, healthy plants. “They’re alive because of you.”

He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the leaves, ready to pull away. With the smallest gesture, his hand settled on the flower of a blooming peace lily. And nothing broke. Nothing wilted.

You watched him, a warm smile on your face, seeing the realisation dawn on him.

He shook his head, “I didn’t know.”

You shrugged. “You’re good at taking care of things…of people. Of me.” Of course, you were telling him what you already knew.

He turned to you, his blue eyes swimming with guilt, his brows knitting together in that familiar way when he was struggling to believe the good in himself. “But I—”

Before he could finish, you silenced him with a soft kiss. His breath caught in his throat, surprised, but he kissed you back, tentative at first. Then his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, as if he needed the warmth of your touch to chase away the nightmares.

His kiss deepened, slow and lingering, like he was savouring every second of it, trying to believe that you were real and that he didn’t break you. 

When you finally pulled away, you cupped his face with both hands. “James,” you pressed your forehead against his, “you didn’t hurt me on purpose. You never have, and you never will.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, and you felt him relax just a little. “I’m still sorry,” he murmured.

“I know,” you whispered. 

His eyes opened, and he looked at you like you were the only thing grounding him to the world. “I love you,” 

“I love you too,” you whispered back, before pressing another kiss to his lips, and this time it was softer. His metal arm curled around your waist again, while his flesh hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin like he couldn’t get enough of the feeling— the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he could finally outgrow his past.

-end

[fhrlclln]

I’ve been living for the Qimir fanfics. Can you write one where reader and him were lovers in the Jedi together, he thought she died, but actually the Jedi wiped her memory. When he bumps into her again he’s FURIOUS but also just happy that she’s alive and tries to get her memory back. Lots of angst but with a happy ending?👀

and here you stand | qimir

SUMMARY -> a man in your dreams feels like a distant memory you cannot seem to touch upon but when a particular meeting with a man in the streets of olega might be the answer to everything.

qimir x fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> angst & fluff

WC -> 2.85k

a/n: aNONz i hope this fic is what you requested for!!! i tried my best with the angst 😩🤌

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

the dream always started out softly...

a glimpse of a man with short black hair, dawning a padawan braid, smiling and laughing with you in the gardens of the jedi temple in coruscant. he’d always kissed you and for a moment in the dream, you could feel his hands gently caress your cheek and see the loving gaze of his eyes on you. but the dream was always somewhat blurry... you can't remember the young man's face but his laughter, his love you feel is everything to you. it was comforting, it felt like home but the moment his laughter ends, the dream did as well.

and you wake up with a longing feeling stuck in your chest.

you'd try to remember your times as a former jedi, a former padawan in your time in coruscant. hoping you could somehow remember the man in your dreams, for it felt it was a distant memory than a dream but it always ended up with no avail. it was painful enough that you missed being back in coruscant and to reoccur those memories again in hopes of remembering who the man in your dreams makes it even more painful.

that's until you had just given up at some point on remembering him.

you now reside in a humble planet called olega. the city was large enough for you to explore it in your first days of living there. you opened up a merchant stall, selling the local fruits and vegetables for consumption. leaving the order was a tough decision the council had made upon you, you were a gifted student, gifted with the force. it was strong within you but alas, you failed, you could not somehow learn to control your own self- your own emotions. you can't remember why back then and it haunts you to this day of your failure as a jedi.

but that didn't matter now.

your quiet life of being a merchant had its perks. you were not bound by an order anymore. there were no more responsibilities and expectations placed upon you. you didn't need to train every single day- but sometimes you missed your training lessons. you did miss your former master and padawans, for they were the second family to you. even if it was told that at that time, familial or romantic feelings were forbidden, you still saw them like that.

granted, it was hard to fall back into the normal routine of an everyday civilian. you had been with the order since you were a child. you still would close off your emotions from time to time with the people you grew to know with in olega, but you got the hang of it eventually in the years of living here. but sometimes you wished to go back to coruscant, hoping if you'd visit the gardens and the great tree, you might remember the man in your dreams.

but here you are, standing behind your stall as you packaged the fresh fruits for a customer. you handed to them with a smile on your face and humbly accepted their credits. you sigh, sitting on your stool as you counted your savings to see if it would cover the rent you have to pay for this month. it was enough, your stall was popular in demand because of how fresh your picks was and you were grateful for that. you stand up again, noticing that you had to close now, seeing that almost all your merchandise was sold.

"closing off early again?" the cheery voice of your fellow merchant quips. you laugh, shrugging as you started packing away.

"i am!" you chuckled, checking if everything is in place before you could leave. you adjusted your satchel as you put on your hood, bidding your fellow merchants a kind goodbye as you went off.

a hot meal would be nice, you think to yourself, before you'd head home. walking through a crowd, you squeeze yourself in as you excused yourself to get by. the heart of the plaza certainly was always full of people at this time. for a moment, a watchful feeling washed over your senses as you look up ahead.

your eyes meet with a man’s. his black hair is slightly disheveled and greasy and the way his eyes were set upon you made you confused for a moment how hard his stare was. you look away, getting out of the crowd, an uneasy feeling settling in your chest as you walk away quickly.

qimir stands still in the middle of the plaza, his heart is thumping loudly against his ribcage. it couldn't be you. he doesn't know if the glimpse of you in the crowd was a mere apparition of the force but the way you looked at him had him thinking otherwise. you disappear from the crowd and he is hot on his feet to catch up to you.

he watches you go into an alley way, he follows in-suit, thinking that you’re trying to escape him. his nostrils flare, his agenda for today to go to the local apothecary is out of his plans as he follows you.

he watched you die.

he was sure of it, that memory of you of pushing him into his own ship whilst you stand guard to help him buy him some time to get out of coruscant never left his mind. it haunted him until he lives and breaths and it enraged him that you foolishly given your life for him to flee before his own former master would have killed him.

you were supposed to be together, right?

he thinks bitterly as he squeezes in the alley way. a lot of questions pop in his mind, were you still with the jedi after all you and him have suffered through because of them? that you willingly stayed? that you faked your own death just to leave him? those thoughts made him feel betrayed. you were his light when he was in the darkness. you were the one that understood him despite your refusal to let yourself be seduced by the dark path. he understood you as well yet he hoped that you would see truth that what the jedi do is all a lie.

he quickens his steps and your figure is starting to inch closer to him. he immediately reaches out to grab your arm and push you towards the wall making you gasp as you struggled in his tight death grip as he cages you with his whole body before you could defend yourself.

“let go!” you yelled at him as he ignored your angry yelps as you tried to get out of his grip. he merely stares down at you as you looked up at him. he observes, waiting if an emotion of guilt would cross your face… but there was none? only confusion and annoyance were plastered across your face. and he somehow indulges in your close distance, the feeling of you in front him again has him weak. here you are, warm and smelling the same after years since he had fallen into a rabbit hole of revenge and hatred for the jedi that he thought they killed you.

“i said-“ you weakly tried to pry him off you. your heart was beating so loudly, fearing what this unknown man would do to you. you wished for a moment that the force could help you. he was much stronger, you could tell, even if he looked like a twig underneath his robes. “-let go!”

“you… you’re supposed to be dead.” he breaks his silence. your brows raised with confusion. dead? you wonder if this man was crazy for thinking of you like that. not once did you remember angering any person here for this kind of response.

“i’m standing right here, buddy.” you roll your eyes as he lessens his grip on your arm. and here you do stand, qimir thinks. you relax for a bit as the hard stare he gives you softens slightly. something in him tells him that you don’t even recognize him. and that makes him worried.

“do you know me?” he tests his theory, hoping it was not true. you know him, you would never forget about him.

you two were your other halves of each other’s body, soul and mind, never to be separated even if the cosmos were in between you two. you would always find each other in the end. even in death, you were his other soul, the half of his battered and broken heart. he knows you vow the same as he heard those vows underneath the great tree in the gardens of the jedi temple in coruscant.

i will never forget you. as you had said to him when his lips last touch yours before you threw him into his ship, leaving him in agony seeing you turn on your saber before his master slashes you with her saber.

i love you, qimir.

he blinks wetly. there’s a hollow feeling inside his chest when he sees that you don’t genuinely recognize him the slightest bit.

“…no? no, i don’t know you. look, sir, if you have any problem with me or you want money, i have some credits-“

“what i want is for you to tell me the truth.” he cuts you off, wondering if you were lying as he tries to peer into your mind. he feels furious, furious that you are acting like this but the desperation… the desperation of trying to see you at least recognize him is taking over. you feel the hum of the force, so familiar even if it had been years since you trained. but it wasn’t just that, his force felt familiar.

“…you wield the force.” you say as your eyes widened when you feel him try to pry in your mind. an instinct in you erupts as you somehow managed to surprise him by grabbing him by his arm and the collar of his robe then pushed him into the wall that you were pressed against, making the roles reverse. qimir lets you do that as he looks down at you, a sadness in his eyes as he realizes that you don’t remember him.

what happened to you?

“you don’t remember me…” he whispers, defeated. he grips your wrist gently as a congested look of hurt is across his face.

“and you know me?” you ask, somehow feeling like he knows you more intimately than you had expected. confusion is breaking your calm mind, it frightens you that somehow you feel like what he’s saying is so close to the truth but you can’t discern it clearly. you know nothing of him. you let him go and qimir almost wobbled in his knees when your touch is gone.

he nods and your chest suddenly hurts. you back away, frightened and confused, it was overwhelming that you feel for him but don’t remember him. before qimir could utter anything else, you walk away. he watches you go, sensing that something was wrong. something had been wiped away in your mind with the memories of him and he feels lost. the one person that had stayed with him throughout his grievances and frustrations, the one good person he thought dead and the one woman he loved doesn’t remember him.

he’ll have to talk to you again when he wills himself.

・゜゜・．

it had been days since you last saw that strange man and your dreams have been getting even more vivid.

it was scaring you.

remembering the look in his eyes, you saw that he did in fact know you. but you don’t know him. sometimes when you wake up now after dreaming of that young man in your dreams, it felt like something in you was lost. and that your mind was actively trying to remember, trying to hold on what was missing but it always fails. and it leaves you feeling so lost and confused.

you sit by your bed now. you haven’t started your day like the usual. you felt sick, nauseous and incredibly exhausted of trying to will yourself to remember that strange man. his touch felt familiar when you remember it, his voice was somehow a comfort and his gaze… you know you would be in trance with those dark eyes of his that spoke of tenderness.

your eyes felt heavy as the sun peaks through the blinds of your windows. you sigh, weakly trying to get up. you felt you were about to fall back onto your bed again until a knock on your door surprises you. you freeze, the knocks then grew more louder and you sighed, thinking it was your landlord as you get up, wrapping your cloak around you.

you push the red button on the control panel as the sound of your door swiftly opening doesn’t ready you for him to be standing by your doorstep. you freeze, seeing that he’s dressed in another way-too-huge robes on him. he looks at you for a moment, taking in your face of confusion.

“i just want to talk.” he pleads and you stay frozen in your spot for a moment, wondering if you want to talk with him. but deep inside, your heart is telling you yes as it beats loudly.

“okay.” you say quietly as you let him in. qimir relaxes as you close the door once he crosses the threshold and he stands inside your small apartment.

“how long have you been living here?” he asks, looking around the place. “in olega… i mean.”

“seven… eight years, i think?” you answer as best as you can. “i stayed in coruscant for a couple of months before moving here.”

“why?” he asks further, confused.

“i left the jedi… i used to be a jedi.” you shrug. “it was the council’s decision why i couldn’t continue my training.”

“because?”

“…i- because they said i didn’t control my self, my emotions.” you sighed, not liking that you were telling this stranger of your failure. a stranger that you somehow know. you remind yourself.

“and you’re sure the council had told you that was their true reasons for letting you go?” he faces you, understanding bit by bit what happened to you. "they lied."

“why do you ask me? are you a jedi or was- as well?” you ask him now.

“i was.” he nods bitterly.

you blink. “then how do you know me?”

“we were…” he starts, finding his words to try and let this information on you easily. your memories were wiped as far as he could tell. he thinks that vernestra orchestrated to do this to you when they had disarmed you at some point after he had escaped. for it was to conceal those outside the jedi order of his existence and that it may put them in a political disaster. he scoffs at that in his mind. he wills himself not to go to the local jedi temple and slaughter master torbin himself for this, out of spite he’ll kill them all in there.

“you and i, we shared a bond.” he softly says as he nears you and you let him. “a bond that the order told us that it was forbidden.”

you blink, understanding what he meant. did the jedi lied to you? you think, feeling betrayed by the order that you had respected could do this to you. his soft gaze felt familiar and you reel in to his gentle voice. qimir’s chest filled with hope seeing you slowly start to understand him even though you still don’t know him.

“i am yours.” he takes your hand to his, placing it above his chest. “and you are mine.”

“and together…” those words leave your lips without even you registering it for a moment as he presses his forehead against yours. you shudder, your eyes welling up with tears, feeling overwhelmed as this felt like the scene in your dreams. this man was the young man in your dreams. you realized, why you somehow feel like you know him.

vows in the gardens, whispering it underneath the great tree. two padawans’ hearts beating with one another and the sweet song of love fills their chests as they become one. bound to eternity forever.

“we are bound to each other forever.” he finishes as he wipes the tears streaming down your face.

“i want to remember you…” you sobbed, your own chest hurting for not remembering him. this man that you had just met days ago but felt like you’ve known him forever. qimir smiles sadly as he pulls you into his arms. you cried on his shoulder, loving the way his arms felt around you.

you don’t even know his name and it breaks your heart again.

“i’ll help you remember. we found each other again.” he vows and promises he’ll make you remember. his own eyes wetting with his tears as he nuzzles his face on your soft hair and he whispers. “i promise.”

but all that matters now is that you are with him at last.

[justauthoring]

Just to be Enough [1]

a series of snapshots of your life with geto and gojo -> this part: what if geto had called you that night?

a/n: this will more or less just be a collection of different one shots of potential moments of a relationship with geto and gojo. sometimes the plotline might change :)

pairing: satosugu x f!reader, shoko x f!reader

read the other parts here: one - two - three - four

-

His hands were shaking.

Part of you thought yours were as well.

You weren’t sure what to say – what was there to say? Being awoken by a call from Geto at three in the morning certainly wasn’t how you’d expected your day off to start; nor was the shakiness of Geto’s voice something you’d ever expected to hear. He was always confident, in your many years of knowing him that was something you’d come to expect – the unwavering confidence that both him and Gojo displayed no matter where they were, what they were talking about or what was happening.

He’d sounded afraid and distressed and on the brink of… you weren’t even sure what. Your heart pounded with fear of just exactly what.

Two girls. That’s all he’d manage to utter. Something about two little girls, locked and beaten and… his voice was twisted with something terribly painful and he was breathing heavily, words mixing together with his panic. You swear you’ve never called for Ijichi so quickly, now in a state yourself; enough that you hadn’t even had the politeness to feel sorry for waking the poor man up so early and abruptly.

It was when you were in the back seat of the car that you called Gojo.

“Something’s wrong with Suguru.”

“...what’s wrong?”

He’s away on a mission of his own. Just like he always was nowadays. It had been hard on your relationship, always missing one piece to make you all whole; but you understood, just like you understood that Geto was called on just as many missions. It was something you’d long ago come to terms with if you were going to be with the two strongest sorcerers, and you had no doubt about what that meant in terms of being physically with them.

Perhaps he’d answered, despite being on a mission, so quickly because, like you, he’d noticed the steady decline of Geto over the past few months like you had. Noticed but deflected every time you’d tried to ask. You’re a sorcerer yourself, and while you might not be as strong as them or sent on as many missions, you know the strain it puts on one's well being. You see it in yourself, in them, in your friends. 

It seems Gojo did as well.

And, if truth be told, not a single one of you had made it out of that mission last year the same.

It had taken you a second to reply, mainly because you weren’t sure how to. “I don’t know,” you confessed with a choked breath, “he just called me, said he found two girls. Satoru, they’d been locked in a cage, starving and with bruises all over them. I tried to get him to calm down enough to tell me where he was. But he sounded…. wrong.”

There’s an echoing pause, then; “you’re on your way now?”

You nod, even though he can’t see. “Yeah.”

“Okay, I'll be there.”

You hear the sound of him pulling away, as if to hang up; you can’t stop yourself from crying; “Toru!”

There’s a moment of silence before you hear him respond, rather softly; “yeah?”

“I’ve never heard him sound like that, Toru. I’m scared about what I’ll find when I get there.”

It feels wrong to admit – why would you be scared to see Geto? A boy you’ve loved since you’d first walked into class on your first day at Jujutsu Tech and laid eyes on him? But you are, terribly so; your hearts racing and it feels like you can’t breathe the closer and closer you get. You don’t know how to help – that was the whole issue of it all; how? How can you help him? How can you make it better?

What if you didn’t?

“I’m gonna be home soon, okay, Y/N/N?” Gojo whispers, gently; so opposite of how he normally sounds. “We’ll figure it out together, yeah? Just get him home.”

You nod, once again, “okay,” you whisper.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Toru.”

You’re pulled up next to Geto ten minutes after that.

He’s standing there, the jacket of his uniform taken off, left bare in his white button up and slacks. When your eyes flicker lower, to the two little girls standing beside him, you find his jacket wrapped around the two of them; big enough to envelop them fully, huddled together. As you pull up beside him, stopping just in front, you first notice the girls; bruises and scuffs marked all over their skin, what little clothing they have on them ripped, dirty and clearly old, and then you see their big, wide, afraid eyes staring back at your own and your heart breaks.

When you raise your gaze, you meet Geto’s. He’s already staring at you, but his expression is blank; like he’s staring right through you.

You send a nod Ijichi’s way before opening the door, slipping out into the cool night air.

The girls are watching you carefully, shuffling closer to Geto, clearly scared of you, and as you stand fully, letting the door shut gently behind you not to scare them, you glance at Geto just briefly before crouching, so you’re at eye-level with the girls.

“My name’s Y/N,” you introduce softly, voice extra quiet so as not to spook them. “I’m Suguru’s friend. What are your names?”

They glance at each other, slowly, unsure, before looking up at Geto. He nods, a simple, silent gesture and then, as if relaxing, their tensed bodies ease and the lighter haired one speaks up first; “i’m Nanako and this is Mimiko,” she introduces her sister for her, and when you glance at the twins, it’s clear who protects who. The thought brings a smile to your lips, thinking back fondly to memories of your past, and nod.

“Those are such pretty names,” you smile, eyes crinkling with warmth. “Are you both cold?”

Nanako nods slowly, and you watch as Mimiko’s lips tremble.

“It’s nice and warm in the car, and there’s a nice man named Ijichi who’ll give you some snacks, okay?”

They look to Geto for guidance once more, and all it takes is one more simple nod before Nanako is eagerly grabbing Mimiko’s hand, pulling her sister forward just as you open the car door. They clamber in, and you adjust Geto’s jacket around them better as they huddle to the middle of the back seat, still holding tightly onto one another, before you let the door shut gently.

Left with Geto, silence echoes as you slowly push yourself up.

Then, with a shaky breath, Geto whispers; “I wanted to slaughter them all.”

His words scare you, but you force yourself to swallow down the fear, reminding yourself who this is and where you are. So, with a small step forward, you close the gap that had existed between both you and Geto, licking your lips. “The village?”

He nods.

“They did that to them?”

Once again, a nod.

“They would’ve deserved it.”

Geto blinks at that, shocked you’d agree with him. “...what?”

“I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong, because… you’re not,” you confess with a shuddering breath. The worlds feel wrong even if you believe them. There was a time that the simple thought of death upon anyone, even the worst of scum, would’ve made you feel ill. But now, it didn’t always feel so wrong — at least not in thought. Not in the deepest, darkest parts of your mind.

“But you didn’t,” you add, closing the gap completely between the both of you. You take a leap, ignoring your uncertainty and fear and everything in between and take his hand in your own, squeezing. “That’s what’s important.”

“But I wanted to.”

You meet his eyes and finally see something in it — a glimpse of hope, maybe. There’s something other then empty in those eyes, even for just a second, and you grab onto it, tightly, knuckles white as hope floods you because that was all you needed. 

Geto wasn’t gone.

“I’ve wanted to,” you confess, and it isn’t hard to know who and what you mean. “But I didn’t either. Do you think I’m a bad person?”

And his answer is instant; “no.”

“You aren’t either.”

His gaze lowers, and you think that’s all that can be said. At least now. Right now, those two little girls are important. Shoko’ll need to see them and when you get back to the school, Gojo will be there and he’ll help. You’re sure of it.

“Let’s go home,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his own. “Okay, Suguru?”

-

Gojo almost looks mad.

But one look at you, and his features soften, tense shoulders fading and he’s forced to remind himself of something maybe he just doesn’t quite understand. 

He’s never been good with words, at least not when it came to comforting. Not when it came to things like this.

So he doesn’t say anything.

After Shoko had checked the girls, and assured bith you and Geto that despite bruising, they were okay. They’d need water and food, but most importantly, sleep. 

You tuck them into your bed.

Geto is silent the entire time. He doesn’t say anything, just stands behind you, his presence is always there. There’s moments you catch, just faintly, where one of the girls will look at him and he’ll smile with a softness you’ve only ever seen directed at you or Gojo.

It fills you with a warmth, and that glimmer of hope you don’t want to lose.

The second he’s sure they’re okay and fast asleep, he slips out of your dorm and heads straight to his. A moment passes before you follow him, and when you finally reach him, he’s in his bed, back turned with the covers pulled up, as if hiding himself from everyone.

You stand there, watching, for ten minutes before Gojo arrives.

It takes him only one minute, after your look and after his acceptance to step forward, slipping into Getos much too small bed to carry two six feet tall men. But it doesn’t stop Gojo. He pulls the covers, slips underneath and presses his face into Getos back. It’s oddly soft for Gojo, caring in a way that words aren’t needed and comforting in a way only possible for him.

You feel distant from them in that moment.

You didn’t know how to help. What to say, what to do. You did what you thought was right, but it still hadn’t felt enough. Sure, you’d gotten Geto home, but he’d still been distant, cold and that look in his eyes still remained strikingly blank and gone.

Yet, you watch as the simple touch of Gojo relaxes Geto’s shoulders and he seems to ease, as if some, if not all, of the anxiety just washes away.

It hurts while comforts you.

You turn to leave, even if it’s your bed; maybe Shokos still up and—

“Y/N.”

Your body freezes, head slowly turning at the sound of Geto’s voice. He’s not spoken one word to you since you’d found him. 

He’s looking at you, meeting your eyes directly and one of his arms is stretched out towards you, as if inviting you.

Lips parting, you hesitate.

“Please.”

That’s all it takes. Your feet are moving before your mind can process, rushing towards the bed with an unfamiliar urgency. You’re desperate for acceptance. Desperate to help and comfort and be there for Geto — because that’s all you want. All you ask for. You just want to help.

He’s grabbing onto your arm the second he can, tugging you to the other side of him, back pressing against the wall your bed is pushed up against and your chest pressed against Geto’s own as he wraps his arms around your waist. You lay there for a moment, before Geto’s pulling you closer, a hand pressing to the back of your head so you’re leaning into the crook of his neck.

Everything washes away then, the warmth of Geto soothing you.

And the words he utters next could make you cry;

“Thank you.”

His words echo in the silence, and then, your eyes flicker upwards, meeting Gojo’s. His gaze is already on your own, soft, warm and there’s a smile on his face.

Everything’s okay then, you realize.

Geto’s home and so is Gojo, and you did help.

You did.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Broken Weddings (Dean Winchester)

Summary: Dean misses your wedding to go on a hunt with Sam.

Warnings: angst

WC: 768

Read on Ao3!

The storm outside rattled the windows of the small motel room, but inside, the quiet was deafening. The only light came from the bedside lamp, casting long shadows across the room. You sat on the edge of the bed, the fabric of your white dress bunching awkwardly in your hands as you stared at the door.

It had been hours. Hours since you stood alone in that church, in front of the altar, waiting for Dean. Hours since the officiant awkwardly shifted on his feet, waiting, as you tried to convince yourself that any moment he would burst through the doors, breathless, apologetic, with that trademark Winchester smirk.

But he didn’t come.

Now, the weight of it all was suffocating. The love, the promises, the belief that this time—this time—things would be different. You wanted to believe that Dean could have something normal, that the two of you could carve out a small slice of happiness in a world that had tried so many times to take it away.

But you had been wrong.

The door creaked open, and Dean stepped inside. His jacket was soaked from the rain, hair disheveled, and those green eyes you knew so well were filled with something that tore at your heart: regret.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice low and rough, like gravel beneath tires. He closed the door softly behind him, taking a hesitant step forward, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“You missed our own wedding,” you whispered, your voice breaking in a way you hadn’t expected it to. You had been strong all day, fighting the tears, fighting the heartbreak, but now that he was standing there, all of it came crashing down.

Dean froze, his breath catching in his throat. You knew he didn’t have an excuse—there wasn’t one good enough for this. Not for breaking this promise, not for leaving you standing there like you meant nothing.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I wanted to be there, I swear. I—” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt written all over his face. “I got caught up in a case. Sam needed me, and things went sideways—”

You shot to your feet, the tears burning at the back of your eyes finally spilling over. “A case? Dean, it’s always a case!” Your voice cracked, and you hated the way it trembled, but you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’ve stood by your side for everything. Every hunt, every loss, every damn apocalypse. But this…this was supposed to be ours. Just one day. One moment for us. And you couldn’t even give me that.”

Dean flinched as though your words physically hit him. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. His eyes were filled with pain, but you had seen that look before—too many times to count. This time, it wasn’t enough.

“I didn’t want to let you down,” he said finally, his voice quiet, like he was admitting something to himself as much as to you. “I thought… I thought if I could just save one more person, if I could just fix one more thing, maybe I’d deserve this. Deserve you.”

Your heart clenched painfully at his words. Dean had never been good at opening up, but you knew how deep his self-loathing ran, how much guilt he carried every single day. And while part of you wanted to take his face in your hands and tell him that he was enough—that he always had been—you couldn’t.

Not tonight.

“Dean,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I didn’t want you to save anyone. I just wanted you to show up. For me. For us.”

He stood there, drenched and defeated, his eyes pleading for forgiveness that you weren’t sure you could give. The silence stretched between you, filled with all the things left unsaid, all the hopes and dreams that had crumbled with the sound of that empty church.

“I love you,” Dean said, his voice barely above a whisper, like the words were a prayer he wasn’t sure would be answered.

You closed your eyes, the ache in your chest unbearable. “I know,” you whispered back. “But sometimes, love isn’t enough.”

The room felt colder as you stepped past him, the door shutting behind you with a finality that echoed through the silence. Dean didn’t move, didn’t say anything to stop you, because deep down, he knew—he had always known—that he could never outrun the life he had chosen. And tonight, he had lost the one thing he had never meant to lose.

--

if you'd like to be tagged in any future fics, I post!

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER ONE: WE'RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ A large machine stationed on both sides of the room, pointed ends meeting each other. A particle accelerator. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne wc: 2.1k

In every universe the Spider is a hero. Some go by different names, some can create their own organic webs, and some have their own cat burglar to wrestle with. One constant, for sure, is that they all are bitten by a spider. You are not the exception.

You were bit when you were 13, and for the last 5 years, you have been the “one and only” Spinnerette! It had been a rocky start, but things are looking okay now. You’ve got a family, a real, strong and fun family.

“You’ve been officially added to my hitlist, Tony, watch you’re motherfucking back.”

“Oh, goody. You might be the only person who hasn’t hired a sniper on me before.”

Loving family, of course.

There was an idea to put together a group of remarkable people to see if they could fight the battles humanity could not. It was called the “Avenger Initiative.” A billionaire, super soldier, scientist, Russian spy, master archer and a God walk into a Shawarma restaurant, wonder what it leads to. The Avengers currently all (mostly) live in the former Stark Tower.

You also currently live in the former Stark Tower. It’s a dream come true. Everyone is happy, everyone is healthy, and your relationships with each Avenger is thriving.

“When’s the last time you ate, kiddo?” asks Tony, stepping inside your personal lab he had gifted you for your 15th birthday. Your hands move deftly, fluid and familiar in fixing your web-shooters.

“A definitely normal time,” is your reply. “Hey, what did you do with the Iron Spider suit? I’ve been looking for it everywhere. I’m thinking about tweaking some of the web combinations.”

“It’s charging, where else would it be? Also, here.” He puts a bag of sandwiches from Delmar’s. You grin and reach out for it. “You know me so well.”

“I know you best,” he clicks, and reaches out to ruffle your hair, only because you let him. “Can you tell Nat I fixed her widow bites? And tell Sam I fixed that dent in his wings, too.” You take a bite of a sandwich. “I’m unna pakrol inna vit.”

He pinches your cheek. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgraceful.” Stay safe.

“[Name], it may be more efficient to patrol without music blasting in your ears,” says your ever so faithful AI, Karen.

You huff goodnaturedly. “ Ear , Karen. Singular. It’s never screwed me over before, I promise I am a responsible music listener.” The thwip of your webs shooting out has always been a comforting sound. It’s a reminder, of who you are, of what you stand for. All your accomplishments (failures too, but the pain is grounding.) “Also, please place an order for the new Batman comic, I forgot to do it earlier.”

“I find it contradicting how you say you are a casual enjoyer, yet own nearly every issue of any and all related Batman comics.”

“I don’t believe in consistency… or whatever Hobie would say.”

The discovery and confirmation of the multiverse was not as surprising as it should’ve been, but it was daunting all the same. You’ve never really been alone since your life at the Tower, but it was a whole new type of connection, finding out there were other Spiders, other you’s . Then, of course, there was that whole “Miles, you’re the original anomaly!” fiasco. Luckily, the situation ended up resolved, and there are (mostly) no hard feelings. You haven’t met another [Name] [L.Name] yet, but there are plenty of other Spider’s to learn from.

“Numerous suspicious activity reports have taken place downtown. I suggest checking it out.”

“You’re the boss, Karen.” You twist your body, changing your momentum and direction, heading downtown. You do flips and tricks, with all the grace of a ballerina. The nanotech is perfectly flexible enough for your dramatics. Tony had spontaneously made the suit for you, as the fabric of your old one didn’t provide as much armor as he needed for peace of mind.

“I am detecting a multiversal instability. Tread carefully.”

The eyes of your suit squint. “Get Miguel on this.”

It isn’t often a multiversal problem pops up in your universe. With people like Stephen Strange and Wanda Maximoff holding cosmic power in relation to interdimensional activity, and the Space Stone itself, your universe holds up well in defense to multiverse activity. But even so, space is unpredictable.

Miguel, despite all his grievances with you and the Peter Parker of Earth-199999, equipped you both with a Web-Watch (you and the other Spiderlings agreed Gizmo was lame). You don’t use it much unless it’s to go chill at the Spider HQ or visit the other ‘Lings in their universes. Whatever iota of guilt he felt after the whole Miles thing manifested itself as overprotectiveness, and he insists on dealing with all spatial related problems himself. You’ll indulge him, if only to bother him about the tech in his universe.

You’re met with a warehouse, abandoned, because of course it is. “No heat signature’s,” you mumble, the suit scanning for signs of life. You hop down through a hole in the roof silently, looking around. There’s random tech and machine parts scattered around, which is never a good sign. It’s easy to miss for the untrained eye, but you spot a hidden elevator mechanism and step inside it. If anything goes wrong, you trust your spider-sense to get you the hell out of dodge.

The way down is ominous, if not for the almost complete darkness, then for the red blinking lights. Your sense tingles, not sensing any immediate danger, but very uncomfortable down here.

d on’t feel good not safe for long leave quickly

Going en pointe (because going on your actual tippy toes to increase stealth is just way too good), you sneak carefully. Just because there are no living dangers doesn’t mean there are none at all. The room is as dark as the rest of the place, and while you can turn on night vision, it’s not as efficient in understanding what the hell you might be looking at.

“Karen, is there a light switch in here?” Your voice echoes in the large room.

“To your left, [Name].” Sure enough, there actually is a light switch that you find after groping the wall. “Huh,” you hum, pleasantly surprised. A flick of the switch activates the many overhead lights and reveals a daunting sight.

A large machine stationed on both sides of the room, pointed ends meeting each other.

A particle accelerator.

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Ok- uh. Karen, contact Tony, and Bruce. Can you tell if it’s been active recently?”

“I am picking up a recent signal, yes. I theorize the recent earthquakes are because of test runs.”

Miles once told you his story. Finding the particle accelerator, his Spider-Man’s death. You remember placing a hand on his shoulder, and you remember him grasping it tightly. It was a complicated time in his life.

“How did he destroy it again…?” you murmur, looking around the machine. “A goober.. right. How did Peni make it, though?” Pulling up your wrist, you scan the machine. “Please contact Peni as well, K.”

Stilling your posture, you look up at the accelerator. You have no doubt nothing good will come from whoever is behind this. Those who try to manipulate powers greater than them always receive a rude awakening. Maybe, by the grace of some higher power, you can somehow rope the Space Stone into this. You know better than to think they don’t have some kind of sentience. Maybe you’re just getting ahead of yourself–

watch out! behind you!

When you turn around, there’s nothing behind you. You’re on high alert now. Your sense doesn’t make mistakes, so either a sniper is pointing his gun at you, or someone who can cloak themselves in around you, and neither of those are good. You breathe in, honing your senses, the situation is far too delicate for you to stumble.

“Show yourself,” you demand. “If you’re smart enough to build this then understand when I say I will find you.”

there! right there!

You turn and send a web to where your senses pointed. The person grunts, trapped in your solution. You pull them toward you. “Show yourself,” you repeat.

A sigh leaves the person's mouth. Then, slowly, their form reveals itself. It’s like Miles' ability to go invisible. Before you is someone your age, must be. And yet the way they carry themselves is reminiscent of somebody who has been through far too much for someone their age. So, basically every Spider you know.

Which is on brand apparently, because this person must be like you. There is no other possibility. The web patterns on their suit, the bug eyes of their mask, the invisibility thing.

“You’re…” you mutter.

“Like you,” they finish.

Your eyes narrow. “The hell are you doing, man? Surely a Spider knows this if some fuckshit,” you gesture to the massive machine. “What are you even doing here?”

Their suits eyes squint. “It’s a delicate matter.”

“Yeah. Obviously,” you roll your eyes. “Not like a bridge to different dimensions is any walk in the park.”

“It’s none of your business,” they huff.

“Hell yeah, it is. You’re me, basically. You’re building a particle accelerator in my universe. By the way, let’s talk about that. Why not just carry out your evil plans in your own home? Did Venom get you or something? We can like, do something about that. Probably–”

“Enough nonsense,” they spit.

“Oh, okay.”

The room lights up, and the particle accelerator whirls to life. The room shakes, no doubt another earthquake beginning to affect the city. A whirlwind of colors fill your vision. Your hand curls the cuff of their suit into your fist.

“What did you do.”

“I’m doing what I have to.”

It happens fast, far faster than your senses could have warned you. Your web restricting them snaps and their hands grab you.

“You’ll survive.” Their hands destroy your watch. “I’m not so cruel.”

And you’re thrown into the web of the universe.

Waking up in an unfamiliar environment has happened far more times than it should have. It’s instinct that pulls you up from the ground. Your body is sore, your head hurts, and the eyes of your suit are genuinely tweaking.

“Karen…” you groan.

“I am unable to connect to any Mr. Stark’s satellites. I detect multiple bruises all over your body, no broken bones. The suit is in functioning condition, 92% charge left.”

“Yeah, we are definitely not in New York anymore. My New York, anyway.” You look up. Your environment is gloomy, the skies are gray, and the buildings have seen better days.

“I’ve connected to the satellites I can detect that are currently in orbit.”

“I need out of this suit, K.” The nanites retract into your web-shooters, now disguised as regular bracelets. You pause and think. “Gimme some glasses, actually. I still need you.” A couple of nanites crawl up your body and form frames on your face. “I can always count on you, K.”

“I’ve created a route to a public library with computers for you.”

The walk to the library has you on edge. Your sense isn’t exactly reacting like it would when you’re in immediate danger, but it’s buzzing constantly. You sigh to yourself. There should’ve been a protocol made for this as soon as you found out about the multiverse. It would’ve definitely been called the “We’re Not In Kansas Anymore Protocol.”

“I’ll start making that protocol for you,” Karen says. You hadn’t realized you’d been talking outloud, sighing. “Thanks, K.”

People keep glancing at you when you walk by before ultimately minding their own business. You’re sure that you give them that uncanny valley feeling, even if you look like a regular human. Effects of being from another universe, you guess. 

Walking up the steps to the library, you think about your next move. You should worry about living your situation. You have no clue how long you’ll be here before someone finds you (or, god forbid, you build your own way back home). You know how to be sneaky and steal, hopefully it doesn’t have to come to that though. You look up, thinking, and pause when your eyes spot something.

Gotham City Public Library.

What. The. Fuck.

In hindsight, it shouldn’t be so surprising. Infinite universes, infinite possibilities, so on and so forth. It had never crossed your thoughts that the silly stories you like (read: obsess over) could be a real universe out there. You don’t like to think about it too hard.

“Karen. Where are we.”

“My map tells me we are currently located in Gotham City, New Jersey.” Big yikes.

“Okay. Change of plans. We are going anywhere but here. Let’s just make up a fake identity, first. And get a job. I deserve a couple of days to think.” No way in hell are you going anywhere near that library where goddamn Oracle works.

It’ll be best to avoid everyone all together.

notes: title is a lyric from "Saturn" by SZA.

[idontego]

KAJI X READER- I Got Your Back

Summary: Kaji and you have had an unspoken title on your relationship, but what you do know, is that he always sticks up for you and doesn’t let things slide so easily. Especially when it comes to you.

—————————————

It was a bright Saturday afternoon and normally that meant the city would be pretty busy. Kaji was patrolling today and when you got the chance you would always meet up with him while he was doing so. you were walking alone planning to meet him, but he insisted it wasn’t safe for you to go to him so you waited patiently at a local cafe where he would meet you. You looked down into your coffee cup anticipating his arrival. You heard bells chime and look behind you to see him walking through the door.

“Kaji! it’s so good to see you! what are we gonna get into today?” you exclaimed, tugging on his hoodie. “I’ll escort you wherever you want to go.” He said with a straight face. This was usual for him. you normally had more energy and he was the anchor in the friendship. “It’s Saturday, Kaji. Don’t be so up tight!” you said rolling your eyes.

“yeah, well i chose to watch your ass when i’m supposed to be patrolling, so you should be grateful.” the sound of his lollipop clacking against his teeth made your ears burn.

“ugh, come on then. we don’t have all day.” you spat out and pulled his arm out the door. “let’s go to the open market down the street! i heard they have some cool things this year!” you proceeded.

The two of you walked on the side walk, him walking on the side that’s closest to the road and you walking on the inside.

“what are you listening to, Kaji?” you asked.

“umm why should i tell you?” he blushed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

you knew that grabbing his headphones would trigger him so you decided not to pry, but you stuck your ear closer to eat and he gave you the side eye.

“just tell me!” you said throwing your arms down.

“The Neighborhood.” he said, looking away from you. “I-i don’t normally listen to this kind of music, but when i’m around you it helps me focu- HEY WHY DO YOU CARE ANYWAYS! we’re almost there.” he exclaimed.

you giggled and proceeded walking. When you got there you were distracted by this one booth that got your attention and you immediately ran over to it, discarding Kaji. You were looking at these pottery jewelry dishes that were hand crafted. You felt a tall, masculine form against your back.

“Kaji look at thi-“ you paused realizing it was indeed a random stranger that also did not apologize for being so close to you.

“i saw you from over there and figured i’d come introduce myself.” the guy said pointing to the direction he was referring to.

you followed his hand with your eyes to see where he was pointing only to realize it was a distraction after you felt a hand grab your wrist causing you to drop what you had been looking at. ‘This is not good.’ you thought to yourself.

the pottery shattering made an alarming noise and you look over the man’s shoulder to see Kaji sprinting towards you.

“let me show you around follow me. what’s your name? i’ve never seen you here before.” the guy said with a strong grip still on your wrist.

“Shut the hell up and let me go, weirdo!!” you said tugging, trying to get him to release his grasp on you.

“Of course some dumb ass had to ruin my afternoon.” Kaji said, spitting out his sucker on the ground. He immediately placed a firm hand on the man’s shoulder pushing him to the ground with one hand, which released his hold on your wrist.

“Who are you?!” the man said wincing in pain.

“Doesn’t matter, if you want to find someone to take advantage of or try to scare, YOU COME TO ME! GOT THAT?!” Kaji said with gritted teeth, gripping the front neck line of the man’s shirt only inches away from his face.

the man was persistent and attempted a right hook on Kaji which didn’t land. “Tch. Nice try, moron.” Kaji said.

“you interrupted my conversation with this beautiful girl and now you’re trying to show me up in-front of her?” the guy said going for a kick.

“by the way how are you doin’?” the man said looking at you mid fight,

“She’s fine.” Kaji answered for you landing a punch to the man’s nose. “keep this up and i’ll knock you out to hell and back, loser.” Kaji continued.

the spar was short lived and resulted in the guy crawling away. Kaji still had his headphones around his neck.

“Kaji… thank you so much-for looking after me.” you said with remorse.

“it’s nothin’. now, what did you want to show me?” he said, tugging on a lollipop wraper and popping another in his mouth.

——————————————————-

A/n: i hope you enjoyed my first writing, lmk if you liked it! Also, REQUESTS ARE OPEN🩶

[perfectsunlight]

[09] TEDDY

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, anxiety

2013

jennie kim hated being sick. everything about it was a reminder of her vulnerability, something she wasn't accustomed to feeling. as a trainee, she was used to maintaining a strong front, always pushing through the pain and fatigue. she was used to it but this time, it was different. 

something didn’t feel right. this was a different kind of sickness.

the hours dragged on, and jennie found herself unable to sleep. the nausea was relentless, waves of it rolling over her, making it impossible to get comfortable. she tossed and turned, her mind racing with worry and uncertainty.

when the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, jennie felt a surge of desperation. she needed to know what was wrong with her. gathering all the strength she could muster, she got up and made her way to the bathroom, hoping to splash some cold water on her face and feel a little better. but as she stood in front of the mirror, another wave of nausea hit her hard. she barely made it to the toilet before she started vomiting, her body heaving violently.

after what felt like an eternity, jennie slumped against the bathroom wall, her forehead slick with sweat. she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her body trembling from the effort. this wasn’t normal. something was seriously wrong.

despite her exhaustion, she forced herself to get ready for the day. she had a recording session with teddy, and she couldn’t afford to miss it. monthly evaluations were coming up, and jennie knew how crucial it was to stay on top of her game.

she dressed quickly and made her way to the studio, each step feeling like a monumental effort. when she arrived, teddy immediately noticed something was off. “jennie, you look really pale,” he said, concern etched in his voice.

the young woman managed a weak smile. “i’m fine. just a bit under the weather.” truth be told, she felt worse than she had the entire week, but she knew that she couldn’t jeopardize everything she had worked so hard for.

as they started recording, jennie found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. her head throbbed, and she felt dizzy. after a few takes, she had to stop. the room seemed to sway around her, and she clutched onto the music stand while riding out the wave of nausea.

“teddy, can we take a break?” she asked, her voice strained. the mentioned man looked up from his screen to see jennie rubbing her head, her face pale as ivory and looking a bit withdrawn. he stood from his seat and motioned for her to step out of the booth.

 “of course. come sit down,” he said, his voice filled with concern. jennie followed him out of the recording studio, her steps slow and unsteady. she took a seat on the nearby sofa, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. the producer handed her a bottle of water, which she took gratefully, though her hands trembled slightly.

“you don’t look too good,” teddy remarked, worry etched across his face. “what’s going on?”

she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “i’ve just been feeling so off. i’m tired all the time, my head keeps throbbing, and i can’t seem to keep anything down. i thought it was just stress, but it’s not getting any better.”

his brow furrowed. he had seen his fair share of sick trainees, but even he knew this was nothing like he had ever seen before. “have you seen a doctor?” he asked while kneeling down in front of her.

jennie shook her head. “no, i haven’t had the time. but it’s getting to the point where i can’t ignore it anymore.”

silence filled the empty space between the two before park teddy spoke again. “do you need me to get you anything?” he asked while glancing at the time on his watch. the young woman shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “no, i think i just need to rest for a bit,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

as the young woman sat there, the room felt really hot. jennie wiped the sweat from her forehead, her body feeling like it was on fire. she took deep breaths, trying to calm herself, but the heat only seemed to intensify. teddy noticed her discomfort and continued to frown with concern.

“hey, you don't look well at all. are you sure there's nothing else going on?” he asked gently, his eyes scanning her ivory face. he was growing more concerned with the way she was acting.

the young woamn hesitated, the words stuck in her throat. she felt another wave of dizziness and leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes to steady herself. teddy's worried expression deepened, and he finally spoke the question that had been on his mind. 

“jennie, do you think you might be pregnant?”

her eyes snapped open, and she stared at him in fear. the possibility had crossed her mind in fleeting moments, but she had been too afraid to confront it. now, with the question being spoken out loud, she felt a rush of emotions she couldn't ignore.

“i don't know. i haven't even thought about it seriously,” she admitted, her voice trembling. she knew it was a possibility, but she didn’t think it was something that could happen to her. she was careful, she was always careful. 

he stood up, his expression serious. “do you want to find out. there's a pharmacy nearby. i can get a test and you can take it here.” 

jennie swallowed hard, her mind racing. she felt a knot of anxiety tightening in her chest but knew she needed to know. teddy could tell the young woman was anxious, but he knew that he’d never do anything to betray her trust. he saw her as a younger sister, almost a daughter figure. 

he just wanted jennie to be okay, no matter what happened.

“don’t worry, i won’t tell anyone.” he whispered, as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, trying to convey his support without words. 

the brunette nodded, cat-like eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and fear. “thank you, teddy,” she managed to say, her voice quivering slightly. she felt a wave of relief knowing she had a trusted ally in this moment of vulnerability.

teddy gave her a reassuring nod. “i’ll run to the pharmacy and get a test for you. wait here.”

the trainee tried to calm her breathing, feeling the weight of the moment becoming heavier. the studio was silent except for the faint hum of equipment, and her mind was filled with swirling thoughts. she clutched the armrest, trying to steady her breathing.

she coudln’t be pregnant. she was careful, she was always careful.

he was careful.

teddy returned shortly with a small bag, pulling her from her thoughts. “here it is,” he said gently, handing her the pregnancy test. “there’s a bathroom just behind that door. you can use it there.”

jennie took the test from him, her hands shaking slightly. “thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. she made her way to the bathroom, her heart pounding with every step.

inside the small, dimly lit bathroom, jennie closed the door behind her and took a deep breath. she looked at the test in her hands, her mind racing. she had never felt so conflicted and uncertain in her life.

she followed the instructions carefully, her movements precise despite the turmoil she felt inside. as she waited for the results, she sat on the edge of the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. her face looked pale, her eyes tired.

the minutes felt like hours. jennie’s anxiety was palpable as she glanced at the test, then at the clock, then back at the test. every second seemed to stretch on forever.

she wasn’t pregnant. she couldn’t be pregnant. her mind raced through the possibilities, each one more overwhelming than the last. the thought of being pregnant felt like a cruel twist of fate, something that couldn't possibly be true.

her breath came in short, uneven gasps as she tried to grasp the enormity of the situation. the room seemed to spin, and she struggled to keep her thoughts from spiraling out of control. the idea of becoming a mother, of carrying a child, was something she had never truly considered. 

especially not now, not while she was still fighting for her place in the industry.

when the time was up, she shut her eyes tightly and grasped the edges of the test, her knuckles turning white. the seconds ticked by with an excruciating slowness. she could almost hear the rhythmic pulse of her own heartbeat, pounding in her ears. the test felt heavier than it should, a small but potent symbol of her uncertainty and fear.

finally, she took a deep breath and forced herself to look down. the result was clear and undeniable.

positive.

jennie’s heart sank as she saw the result. she sat there for a moment, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions—fear, confusion, and a strange sense of disbelief.

her hands trembled as she clutched the test, her eyes fixated on the two distinct lines that seemed to mock her. the reality of the situation was hitting her hard, and the weight of it all felt unbearable.

the small bathroom, with its sterile white tiles and bright overhead lights, suddenly felt suffocating. jennie’s breath came in shallow gasps, and the room seemed to spin around her. her carefully constructed facade of strength and composure shattered as the enormity of her predicament settled in.

unable to hold back the surge of emotions any longer, jennie’s tears began to fall. she buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly at first, then with increasing desperation. each sob felt like it was pulled from the depths of her soul, shaking her entire body as she tried to make sense of the overwhelming situation.

teddy, waiting just outside the bathroom door, heard the muffled sounds of her distress and grew more concerned by the second. he knocked softly before entering, his face filled with worry as he saw the young woman sitting on the edge of the sink, tears streaming down her cheeks.

without a word, he approached her and gently wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace. naturally, jennie clung to him, his presence offering a small measure of solace amid her turmoil. her sobs grew quieter as she buried her face in his shoulder, feeling a mix of panic and vulnerability.

“i won’t tell anyone.” teddy whispered, reaffirming the fact that he wasn’t going to betray her trust. he rubbed her back gently, letting her cry it out. his eyes briefly glanced at the test before speaking again. 

“does he know?” 

jennie shook her head rapidly, her face buried in her hands. it was all too much to take in, and nothing felt normal anymore. 

“no. i can’t tell him.”

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OPEN! COMMENT BELOW THE MASTERLIST TO BE ADDED

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

I'm really sick and Satan's sacrificial waterfall is here AT THE SAME TIME!

I don't know if you do blurbs or headcannons, but if so, would you be willing to write for the boys (either taskforce 141, or singular characters,) taking care of an afab reader who has never had anyone wanting to take care of them?

If not, sorry to bother!

I don't typically take requests but... since I'm in the same boat (sacrificial waterfall is probably going to come over the weekend for me), I'll 100% do it.

A while back I also posted this: "You're feeling ill" and it's also along the same vein, if you'd like an extra little pick me up.

Period woes.

Rating: G Words: 1K~ tags: afab!reader but you/your pronouns, SFW!, fluff, comfort, periods and associated symptoms.

A person’s period might be the most hypocritical moment of their routine. They’re expected to continue moving, working and living their live as normal, all with a smile on their face, while their uterus actively attempts to cut off its own circulation… as if for any other injury or sickness you wouldn’t be expected to lay down and STOP for a moment and allow yourself to heal up, or at least improve enough to not be miserable.

But no. You’re expected to deal with it alone, to not show a reaction, to not be irritable, or groaning and writhing in pain. Take a shower, stock up on painkillers and slap a smile on your face, you’ve gotta go out in the world and act as if you’re not actively dreading every waking moment you spend on your feet.

That’s why you’ve learned to hide it when you’re going through your monthly. Your family, partners… not even your girlfriends know when you’re having it. Ever since you were a young teen, just starting out, it was very much a conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know, sort of moment.

But it’s miserable. You’re always miserable. Everything hurts, the cramps, the headaches, the back pain, hip pain, your sore chest… Plus the blood, the lack of appetite (or increase in appetite), the nausea, the fact you want to cry one moment, or break dishes and scream the next, the way your colleagues annoy you beyond compare, how certain sounds grit your nerves just. enough. to make you feel like you’re losing it… And then you can’t sleep.

And of course… he notices it. How could he not?

Ghost is discreet about it. He doesn’t mention it, doesn’t make a big deal about it… But he’s VERY good at taking care of you without you noticing he’s doing it. His love language is acts of service… So he simply goes around giving you a hand on whatever you might need. Food? Made. Dishes? Done. Laundry? Washed, Dried, Folded and Put Away. He finds you trying to do something? No. Give it here, he’ll do it.

The inevitable day that a leak happens and you find yourself angry at yourself as you strip the bedsheets off the bed, trying to be discreet about it so he doesn’t see it, he silently grabs the sheets off your hands and murmurs a “Go take a shower and change. I’ve got this.” before turning to put the sheets in the washer, clean the mattress and remake the bed so you can lay down again by the time your shower is over. It makes you emotional, sometimes, that such a stoic man will gladly take on every other responsibility to allow you to heal.

Gaz, blessed be him, is an absolute sweetheart… But he’s also a silly boy. He notices and although he’s not going to make a big deal about it, he’s still very… Boyish about it. Uses all the silly names for your period (“The Communists are coming”, “Shark week”,  “Satan’s waterfall”, “Carrie”) and affectionately calls you “My little ketchup packet”. 

He’s all for ordering takeout and getting you whatever you want when and how you want it. He’ll rub your back and be very careful about where and how he touches you. He’s ginger with touches around your waist and lower stomach, looks at you with those big brown eyes of his, as if checking that he’s not hurting you or crossing a boundary. You find yourself getting emotional when he whispers about how strong you are to deal with this every month… Keeps asking gently if you need anything… It makes you feel so safe.

Price’s older. He’s been in many relationships before. He notices your period is coming before it even does… Notices how you’re acting. Jumpier, grumpier, sadder… Notices how you toss and turn the couple of nights leading up to it. And he’s silently prepared. He’s made a supply run to the grocery store to get what brand of period products you use and some painkillers and puts them where you can see them in the bathroom. 

Fills you up with warm herbal tea and food that he knows are easy to digest and help with your state. No fucking chocolate and sugar or potato chips, you’re being pumped full of soups and stews and veggies and cut up fruit. He’ll sit by your side with a paring knife and an apple and slowly peel, core and cut it, before slowly feeding you (and himself) the slices. When you try to resist it, at first, too used to doing things alone, he’ll grab your face with both hands, look into your eyes and tell you. “And why exactly would I let you do that, when you’ve got me here to help you? How does that make sense?”

Soap’s… Well… Soap’s got a bunch of sisters… Each of them dealing with their periods in wildly different ways... So one thing he knows for sure: He’s not about to assume anything. You do what you’ve got to, he’ll adjust to you. He needs to go to the bathroom but you’re in there? Copy that, he’ll go piss in the yard. You’re having a cry in the kitchen because nothing looks good but you’re hungry? Talk it out with him, what do you want to eat? Let’s figure it out together, bonnie. You need to lie down in a dark room because of a migraine or headache or just to catch on sleep you’ve missed? Johnny’s blacked out every window, gathered every stray pillow and blanket in the house and will make you a nest if he’s got to.

And when you wake up in the middle of the night with a whine and a stretch because your back hurts and you’ve got cramps and cannot for the life of you get comfortable, Johnny’s hands are rubbing over you, pressing kisses to your temple and murmuring little “I ken, love… It’ll be over soon… I’m sorry you’re going through this…”

[annoyinglandmagazine]

I’ve been thinking about Miriel and her impact on the House of Feanor on the whole, as you do, and I was thinking what if she haunted the narrative even more? I think it’s pretty well established that she was depressed in some shape or form, that there were mental health problems contributing heavily but there were definitely physical aspects as well, ‘But in the bearing of her son Miriel was consumed in spirit and body; and after his birth she yearned for release from the labour of living.’ And I know that Feanor being Feanor was ascribed as a huge cause of this, that he was just so much stronger than the average elf that his birth was particularly taxing but I’m going to go ahead and assume that even if Feanor had been a perfectly normal baby Miriel would have been impacted. It just feels almost like this infant is being blamed for his mother’s death which, while definitely plausible as something that happened in universe, doesn’t really feel fair to him.

I’m theorising Miriel had underlying conditions from long before she became pregnant that made her prone to things like fainting, exhaustion, chronic pain and that in all honesty her having a child was never going to be a good idea. But they wanted a family together and where could be a safer place to raise one? Everything was perfect and safe, why shouldn’t they be able to overcome this little obstacle to doing what everyone else seemed to be doing without issue? Towards the end she was entirely bedridden, not even strong enough to sit at her loom.

Finwë was relieved beyond measure when Feanor seemed to grow almost exceedingly strong and healthy, as if he’d gotten all the strength Miriel had been missing, and he thought that was the matter laid to rest, Feanor was fine and any children of his would be as well. Except they weren’t. Nerdanel’s pregnancies were always a time of great panic, not for her health really because it wasn’t Feanor’s genes they were worried about it was Miriel’s. And Nerdanel was nothing like Miriel but her children…..

Ñolofinwe watches Feanor pacing the palace in a frenzy while a crowd of healers stream in and out of a room down the hall, some five times the standard amount, and he wants to try and reassure him but knows he, with his perfectly healthy baby boy, delivered with no fuss by one midwife just like his two perfectly healthy sons beforehand, to go home to, is the last person in Arda his brother could stand to converse with right now.

The sons and daughters of Fingolfin and Finarfin grew swiftly, strong and athletic with hearty appetites and bright dispositions. Feanor could not bring himself to hate children so he settled for hating his brothers instead. He does not envy them their children, he loves his more than he could ever have loved anything and that’s the problem right there, he loves his sons and he’s absolutely terrified that he’s going to lose them if he lays them down too long. They’re so small and as soon as they leave his or Nerdanel’s arms they seem to tremble with cold so he sleeps with them against his chest for more of the first years of their lives than was usual. After those many sleepless nights he always finds it hard to sleep without being able to feel the rise and fall of their breathing.

Their cousins often do not understand what the difference between them and the Feanorians is, most of them have vague memories of getting scolded within an inch of their lives for fighting one back when they got into childish arguments. Mostly they just resented it or assumed it was favouritism if it were by Finwe or fear of Feanor’s wrath if by their own parents. Angrod did not think too long on how easily Caranthir crumpled to the ground at an unexpected shove, after all he was the older wasn’t he? Surely the rules about being gentle shouldn’t apply? He was equally puzzled when Fingolfin came running and scooped Caranthir into his arms, pale and panicked as Maedhros assured him he’d make certain Feanor wouldn’t hear about the matter if he was alright.

They train and become agile and skilled with blades and bows if not physically broad and strong in the way of their cousins but no matter how their health improves there are always concerns and during their approaching adulthood it becomes clear their worries are not only in body. There are migraines that leave them in dark rooms unable to bear even the sound of footsteps outside, days where Curufin and Maedhros struggle to allow any food past there lips, days where Caranthir sobs for hours with some inexplicable ache, weeks where Maglor cannot find rest no matter how much exhaustion he feels, little cuts and gashes on Celegorm’s arms that seem too frequent to be fully accidental.

If you were to look at this from a modern perspective it would probably be some genetic tendency to bipolar disorder and major depression but they wouldn’t have that kind of language because in my headcanons about Valinor they have very little experience with mental illness and no idea how to respond to it. I’m citing the whole Miriel incident to back me up there.

And just to make this even more angsty have a Tyelko quote from the fic of this I may or may not write ‘Amme always said we were her miracles, that our survival and strength was a blessing from the Valar. I was lucky to make it to my first winter. I wonder now if things wouldn’t have been better for everyone else if I hadn’t.’

[purrplegyuu]

That do you think are the top 3 kink's of treasure??😶‍🌫️

Aye! Sorry for taking this long😭, i’ve been a little busy but here i am. Also, i think i should warn you guys ‘cause i’m not actually very informed about kinks and kinks’ names, so you’ll find some made up ones, sorry.

Hyunsuk’s might be praising kink as number one. This little man would love to listen to you tell him how much you like the way he touches you, the way he looks, how talented he is with his fingers. I think it’s kind of over-used for the producer and leader of every single kpop group but cock warming while he’s working. And finally, love kink (i dont think thats a real kink but idc), my man is just too sweet and too in love, so he would be down for everything if it’s with his loved one. (Such a softie, ik)

Jihoon is a lot into pain kink, like he would go crazy either slapping your pussy or your ass or biting your neck. Strength kink because he is strong—man he is totally the type to manhandle you in thousands of ways just to show you just how stronger he is and just how helpless you are. And finally, size kink. The fact that he’s able to cover your body completely under his… man i’m done🫠. Plus, he would go rock hard the next day after having sex when he sees you struggling to getting up because your legs are weak and your womb hurts, because, again, pain kink. (Yeah yeah, i already said that in the last one post, sorry!)

Junkyu is pretty weird because while some people see him as a sweet cutie pookie little angel, this man is a freak. To begin with, he would be A LOT into bdsm (specially bondage), so there will always be a rope or a pair of handcuffs hanging on the nightstand for him to keepyour hands still (and whenever it’s not, don’t worry, he’ll just use his tie). And never ask him not to cum inside of you because this will only lead on him cumming at least three times more in your womb because here comes his second kink: Junkyu’s breeding kink is crazy. And whenever he cums inside of you, he will hold your neck strongly and choke you just a little— he likes to see the way your body spasms under his, and then goes weak slowly. But hey, you started this! He always tell you not to retain your breath whenever you come.

Yoshi is a little bit weird to me because I sometimes can totally see him as a dom, but then i just feel he’s just a soft subbie, so let me figure it out… degrading AND praising. Likes to listen to you saying you love him, and the way he looks right after licking you whole, and the way he makes you feel, but will also go crazy when you tell him he can’t satisfy you enough and that you might need to look for another pretty boy to fuck instead. And the switch dynamic come back when we talk about his breeding kink—his soft subbie self (the normal one actually) would just love the idea of you carrying his children in between you arms, while his other side would just love the way you look all pregnant, the way your boobs would grow up and the way you ask him to fuck you because you’re feeling needy after two months without sex. (Oh no, i might have gone a little too far with that one🌚)

Jaehyuk is another one i think everyone is getting confused with since shining solo because he looked so submissive, but hear me out. We have another freak. He is also very into bdsm, and sometimes he might have gone a little too far before, so you had to decide a safe word because you never mean it when you ask him to stop. He just overwhelms you too much by edging you with you ping vibrator (‘cause edging is his second kink) and makes you loose yourself with every slap he gives to your pussy. And I shouldn’t say this, but I saw recently an animated porn video (im so much of a loser, sorry) in which a girl is trapped on the hole of a wall and a guy (who ends up being her boyfriend) fucks her for hours, until he cums inside of her and then… he pees… inside of her. Idk, it just screamed Jaehyuk to me so pissing kink. We’ll never mention that again, ok? Hehe

Asahi is the unkinkiest member among all treasure members imo. Sex with him is very vainilla, so I can’t actually come up with anything hot, sorry.

Doyoung is that kind of gentleman who would never admit any of his perversions, but once he actually trusts you, man, it’s gonna be a long night. Would go down on you, taking one of you legs and putting in your shoulder while your other try to hold your whole body up, and would lick you pussy for hours, even after you came twice and ask him endlessly to stop because you’re already too overstimulated. This is his first kink, and asking you to pee in his mouth when you tell him you really need to go to the bathroom is his second kink. And making you squirt would be his third (again, is that a kink?).

Haruto kinda gives me the vibes of a slightly perv guy who feels guilty over his “forbidden desires” so just hides them since he thinks he’s too dirty. However, they are not that dark—not only sexually, but in all the ways, he likes physically smaller girls, so size kink, and that would also lead to the second kink: bulge kink. And keeping your hands still by tying them with his tie is the third.

Jeongwoo is a little darker than everyone else. He’s the kind of guy who watches and repeats on his dreams. The first would be overstimulation (guess y’all already know what it is), the second would be hate kink (don’t know if it exists either but like having sex with someone he genuinely hates) and cervix penetration (which is not penetration actually, but like being so far deep inside your pussy, that he can hit your cervix over and over again).

Junghwan is also strong, so even if i know it is a little obvious and basic to day so, strength kink. Same with his size kink. And this one might take some by surprise but… praising kink. He’s just so cute and little and cute and lovely. Would become from the hardest dom to the sweetest subbie whenever he hears some barely sweet words coming out of your pretty mouth.

[shiftingparadise]

Hi! Love your work. I was wondering if you could write a gojoxreader fanfic where it starts off with angst and ends with fluff. Reader and gojo get in a big fight and reader storms out of their shared house late at night. Gojo was still angry so he let her be until some time had passed and reader still didnt return. He tries calling reader but finds she left her keys, wallet and phone at home so he gets really worried and tries looking all over for her. In his search, he thinks of all the places where she could be and eventually finds reader at the spot where they first kissed or where they first said their “i love yous”

Thanks for your request. I loved, loved, loved writing this. I hope you like it 🥰. If you have any other ideas, feel free to ask. My creativity is at an all-time low 😭🤍

Word count: 1485

Warnings: none

“You can’t keep on doing this”, your eyes glossy, “You can’t keep hurting me like this”. “Are we seriously going to do this again?”, he raised his hands in frustration. “What? Am I not allowed to say something about it?”, your eyes widened in disbelief. “She’s just a colleague. How many times do I have to tell you?”.

Satoru normally never raised his voice at you, he’d never look this upset, but somehow the name ‘Utahime’ always set him off.

“I’ve known her since I was just a kid. What do you expect me to do? Ignore her? Stop doing my job every time we need to work together because you’re insecure?!”. “Insecure?”, you chuckle, “That’s not what this is about”. “Oh, it is”, he raised his voice even more, “It’s fucking pathetic how insecure you are, you know that? If I had known you’d be such a pain-“. “Really?”, a tear now streaming down your cheek, “What? You’d what?”.

A glimpse of compassion could be seen in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to stop this argument. Since he got sent on a mission with Utahime a couple of days ago, the tension between the two of you was unbearable. And why shouldn’t it? He always had to work together with Utahime, even though there were plenty of other options. What about Nanami? Or Atsuya? Even Shoko would be fine, but why her? Always her.

“Fuck Y/N”, Satoru sighed before sitting down on the couch, “It’s 1AM, I’ve just got home… I’m tired too, you know?”. “Tired?”, you chuckled, “From what? Hanging out with Utahime? Having dinner together? Wow, must be tiring”. “Yeah, that’s all I do”, he angrily stood up again, “It’s not like I put my life on the line or anything just to save others”.

He was now standing in front of you, towering over you like a hawk. A sharp pain of guilt shot through your chest. You knew he had a dangerous job, and even though he was strong, there was never any guarantee that he’d return home.

“You know what? At least Utahime understands me”, his tone harsh as he turned back around.

Fire. That’s all you could feel in your chest. Whatever guilt you felt was completely gone now.

“Fine!”, you angrily grabbed your coat, “You should ask her to live with you because I’m leaving. You’re such an arrogant asshole!”.

You didn’t care about your voice cracking, or about not knowing where to go. You were done with him.

“Where the hell are you going?!”, his head darted over his shoulder, “Wait a minute!-“, he made his way to the door. “Don’t you dare touch me! Go talk to your precious Utahime”, you slammed the door shut behind you.

You often found yourself wishing he’d stop you from leaving during an argument, but not this time. The words that he had spat out like venom were too much for your heart to take.

“Fuck!”, Satoru let out a frustrated curse before he headed to the bathroom. He didn’t know what to do or how to feel. “She’ll be back soon”, he muttered the words to himself.

But you weren’t back soon. After an hour or so, he decided to call you.

“Huh?”, his plump lips parted as he heard the familiar ringtone. “She’s got to be kidding me”, he walked to the kitchen where your phone, your keys and your wallet seemed to be. “Great, she’s out at 2 AM without her phone or her wallet”, his voice mixed with concern and agitation. “And then she gets angry when I tell her she’s a pain in the ass”, he angrily grabbed his keys before heading toward his car.

Satoru searched for over an hour. He called every hotel, went to every gas station, every spot where you could be right now. He even called your parents to see if you were there.

“Fuck fuck fuck”, his hands tightened around his steering wheel, “Where the hell is she?”.

He didn’t care about the fight anymore. He just wanted to see you, to hold you and make sure you never leave him like that again.

“Maybe…”, he looked out the window, “I don’t think she’ll be there though”.

He was talking to himself like a madman, but he had to do so to keep his mind from spinning off to the worst-case scenarios.

“It’s worth a try”, he softly spoke before turning his car around.

It was a 10-minute drive, but his heart felt so tired. He’d been killing curses for the last couple of nights, and he desperately could use some sleep. Not to mention how much stress he was under right now. What if a man had gotten to you? That would be far worse than any curse out there. How could you be so foolish? How could you do this to him? Did you really not know how much he loved you?

“Thank God”, he let out a sigh of relief as he saw your silhouette sitting on the grass, “I’m going to put a chip in her. This is the first and last time she’s doing this to me”.

He wasn’t angry, but a hint of disappointment could be heard in his footsteps. He was worried sick, and you were sitting in a park in the middle of the night. Did he seriously have to tell you how dangerous that was? Especially without a phone or anything else.

“You idiot”, he spoke loud enough for you to hear.

“H-huh?”, his voice startled you as you looked behind you. You could see him standing a couple of feet away from you.

“What if a guy saw you like this? What if he took you? What if he-“, Satoru clenched his jaw at the thought. “I’d never forgive myself”. “Thought you only worried about Utahime. Since she understands you-“. “Are you seriously still worried about that?”, he sat down beside you.

Yes. And no. You knew Satoru loved you, more than anyone or anything, but he barely gave you confirmation. Sure, he was kind, and he did everything in his power to give you a comfortable life, but it’d be nice to hear him say he loved you more often.

“How’d you know I’d be here?”, you tucked your knees to your chest. “You don’t think I know my girl?”, he chuckled as he leaned back, his eyes studying the sky.

You couldn’t help but blush at his words, a small smile on your face. And it didn’t go unnoticed.

 “Aw, is my girl blushing already?”, he playfully pulled you closer. “Satoru-“, you let out a sigh. “I know, I know”, he loosened his grip, “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll speak to those old bastards, tell them that I don’t want to be paired up with her again”. “A-are you serious?”, your eyes widened as you now looked up at him. “Sure”, he gently placed his thumb under your chin, “Anything for my girl”.

You practically jumped on him after he spoke those words.

“I love you”, you were sitting on his lap, eyes locked on his. “I -I love you too”, the words came out a bit awkward and not as fluent as you’d like.

Satoru noticed the disappointment in your eyes.

“H-hey, it’s still as awkward for me as the first time”, he gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, “You remember that, don’t you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come here”.

His smile always seemed to lighten your mood.

“I do”, you chuckled. “Was it here? Underneath this tree?”, Satoru pretended not to know. “You know it was!”, you playfully smacked his shoulder. “We argued, just like this”, a sudden harshness in his voice, “I thought you were done with me-“. “I was”, you pouted. “I know”, a low chuckle before he pulled you closer on his lap, “I promised you’d be the only girl in my life, didn’t I?”. “I-I guess”, you looked to the side, only for Satoru to turn your gaze back to him. “I told you I loved you, despite my fear of getting close to someone. Why’d you think I’d throw this, us, away for a girl like Utahime?”. “She’s not just a girl”, your brows pulled together. “She’s a friend, nothing more. You can’t expect me to ignore her when I’ve known her since I was 17… But”, he continued after he saw your disapproving glance, “I’ll promise to try and join others on missions. I guess those old folks have been putting us two together quite often”. You nodded as your hands gently stroked the back of his neck. “Only if you promise not to pull something like this again”, he gently pushed you off him before standing up, “, I was worried sick”. “I-I promise”, you grabbed the hand that was reaching for you. “Come here, crazy”, Gojo easily picked you up, “We’re going home”.

[certifiedsexed]

hi there! this isn’t about sex itself, but since periods are usually a part of sex ed and i’ve literally just been woken up because the cramps were bad enough, i thought i would ask — is it normal to be in a lot of pain when you’re on your period?

context: i still live with my abusive parents, who don’t let me take any kind of pain medication after a suicide attempt at thirteen, so i know that this problem might just be that i need to take a strong painkiller. also the pain doesn’t ever last more than three days? like the first three days (and sometimes the days leading up to it) of my period are always hell but then it’s fine, i have no pain afterwards.

but the problem is that the pain is… bad. like being woken up in the middle of the night because my sides hurt and my legs hurt isn’t uncommon, and there’s this weird thing where i’m scared to use the toilet during these first three days because it makes my butt and my sides hurt so much that i genuinely can’t move and have to bite myself to stop myself from screaming. sometimes i’ll be in so much pain, usually in my sides but also sometimes in my stomach or legs or my butt, that i can’t even move, so i just kind of… have to lie pressed into my bed and hold my breath.

my mother has always just told me that she had worse pain when she still used to get her period, and that i’d be completely fine if i just listened to her and used a hot water bottle (i have poor circulation, so hot/cold stuff just doesn’t really feel great for me usually), and i’ve always just kind of accepted that. i know it’s common for people who get periods to talk about how painful things like cramps are, but i genuinely usually feel so miserable for the first couple days of my period that if i don’t need to get out my bed, i literally won’t at all.

i’m just wondering… is everyone who gets periods in as much pain as i usually am, at least for the first couple days? or, since i know that people experience periods differently, are people in more/less pain than i am but it’s fine since this isn’t that bad and i should just take medication each month for it? idk, but ever since i started to get periods they’ve genuinely always made me feel so so bleak and in agony, and i’m someone i’d consider who has a maybe above ‘average’ pain tolerance (i have chronic back pain, migraines, and health issues that make it easy for me to sprain/fracture my ankles which i’ve unironically managed to do about eight times in the past two years — again, unfortunately all of this with mostly no painkillers unless i can get them from the school first aid box), so i just… don’t know anymore, but i thought it couldn’t hurt to ask.

anyways, unrelated but i really do love this blog — the reblogs are always good things to read as someone who’s still unpacking being raised by very puritanical parents, and the asks always offer good advice too, very empathetically in a way that sometimes catches me off guard (there was one post on here that was something about how the asker’s father would belittle them and i think your reply said something like ‘it’s not your fault and nothing’s wrong with that aspect of you’… which i know sounds obvious but that was something that i don’t think had ever been obvious to me ever since my father started doing the same when i was younger. it was really comforting to hear, is what i mean, and your replies often are. so thank you for that! and for the time + energy i can imagine it takes to run this, you post/rb so often!)

Hi! This is absolutely a sex ed question, you're right!

So, first, let me make one thing clear: no! You are not supposed to be in this level of pain on your period. Some pain is understandable but once it gets to the point it's bad/debilitating in Any fashion, something is going wrong.

But I also want to say, being in an abusive living situation can fuck up your periods. And so can being restricted from pain relief, which-just in case you're not aware-is another type of abuse.

But what you're talking about sounds like more than just a lack of basic pain relief. That's very disabling, even if it doesn't last long. It may be that intense reactions to periods run in your family [especially since your mother mentioned experiencing something similar] but that's still something you should be getting something like specialized pain meds for or even stopping your periods altogether.

What you're talking about, especially on top of an abusive living situation, is very unhealthy for you to have to deal with.

Not everyone is in that much pain. Some people are but that's a medical condition. It's a disability! What you're talking about is a disability. It can be caused by PMS or endometriosis or PMDD or it could even be connected to whatever causes your other chronic pain but it's still very much something your parents should be getting you checked out for.

Even if your mother had the exact same pain on her period, that doesn't mean you should have to suffer through it, especially not with her revoking your access to basic pain relief. That's all completely unacceptable and I'm sorry you're having to deal with this.

I'm not sure how helpful this is but I hope it's at least good to know the pain levels you're dealing with are unacceptable and Not "normal" period pain.

Also I'm so glad you're learning and enjoying the blog, especially the advice. I also grew up in an abusive household so to hear it's helping someone else in a similar situation means the world to me, fr. 💕 Sending love, Anon. <3

[diejager]

OKOK so if you don’t wanna do this it’s totally FINE!

I grew up without a father, so I always felt like I had to be the protector (I’m not gonna get into full detail,) and it gave me BAD trauma. (I’m a female) How would 141 react to this? Like basically them telling me I don’t have to be tough anymore, I don’t have to hide my emotions from people, I don’t have to be the strong one. Again if you don’t want to do this it’s okay! I’ve just been feeling really down with myself, I’ve been breaking into random crying episodes.

𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶♥︎♥︎

Ah, I see, your father really missed out on something good. I just want to apologise in advance if I got some things terribly wrong. If you need someone to talk to my DMs are open. Love you too🥰

Rest Cw: absent father, trauma, breaking down, tell me if I missed any.

They watched you stumble, stutter around them and grow awkward and self-conscious when they became protective of you, more so than a normal colleague relationship implied. It made your shoulders tense, smile looking more like a wince than the ones they were used to and your mind block out anything that would incur a resurgent memory. It pained to see you so uneasy towards their affection, the love and softness they easily gave you once you pushed through their hardened hearts and shatter the walls they built around themselves.

You were always so strong, going forth without hesitation to do what you had to, the strong-headed operator in their Task Force that always stepped ahead to protect them and yourself. Despite your freely-given affection, you were absent emotionally, dancing on the line of emptiness and loneliness, a lasting impact of an absent parent. You were sometimes odd, mind wandering to different places and coming up with what-ifs situations, blocking ou the world around you - them and the bustling crowd in the Mess hall - or at times, closing your door in their faces, turning your back to them when you seemed to need them the most, never letting them help you quell that heartache and pain.

“Lass,” it was Johnny’s voice, the jovial one of your quirky group, his saddened voice muffled by your closed door, a physical barrier between them and your broken world, “Let us in, would ya?”

If you ignored them long enough, they’d eventually leave you. Most did that, never bothering to put more effort into interacting with you when you tried to ignore them, they wouldn’t bother you much more later.

“Let us help you, ” Kyle, it was him that spoke up after Johnny, a soft thrum in his voice, gentle and reassuring as he gave a small knock on your door. He called out your name - you government one - through it, a little hum following it.

It pained you to shut them out, the cord connecting you to them pulled tightly, ready to snap if you did anything mad. Your face burned, blinking away the tears that clung to your lashes and shuddering, laboured gasps through your mouth. You couldn’t let them see you like this, it would shatter the image you tried so hard to create through blood, sweat and tears, all your hard work would go to waste if you opened the door.

“Please.”

You choked a breath, eyes widening as your mind spun. No one else had the deep and low tone, a rumble-like growl softened to seem harmless, almost vulnerable in sound. You’d never heard Ghost speak so gently —so weak and soft. How could you say no when Ghost had asked so nicely, his pretty please echoing in your mind like a song on repeat.

“You don’t have to let everyone in, sweetheart,” Price had always been a good bargainer, his words throwing the truth into people’s face despite their reluctance to listen. “Just one of us, yeah?”

You guessed having all of them in wouldn’t be too bad, knowing how much of a part you played in their little group of misfits and chaotic bunch. They’ve showed how much they cared for you prior to this, many times in and out of deployment, the drunken moments in a pub or in the solace of the Task Force’s own rec room. Despite your paranoid and fearful mind conjuring up many images and situations, you fond yourself unconsciously moving towards the door, your silent steps growing loud the closer you got to the metal knob. You flicked the lock off, letting it crack open. Light from the hall flooded in, peaking through your opened door, encompassing the towering figure of your Lieutenant, a sentry to your self-proclaimed cell, the protector of your broken mind.

“There you are, luv,” you could see the smile through his eyes, his warm browns showering you in silent affection, “Let me in?”

Letting him in was the hardest, yet easiest thing you’d ever done, welcoming him - another man’s fractured min - into your darkest moments, cheeks wet and lips bitten bloody, choking down your sobs. It couldn’t hurt to let them help, to let Price, Ghost, Kyle and Johnny in.

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