#and when your bad coping stretches to taking it out on others you actually Do have an obligation to fix it and she went there but

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO x FEM READER

Gojo realizes that adopting Megumi doesn’t just entail calling himself a DILF as a joke. It has responsibility. He doesn’t know how to live with that.

wc — 1k

tags — hurt/comfort, coping with recent chapters/leaks, spoilers for anime onlys, title from Runaway by Aurora, somewhere in the timeline of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together  

Gojo doesn’t see the point of road trips. He can get there and back in an instant, so there’s no point. 

But you like commutes, and Megumi likes what you like, so it’s two to one. Gojo tries to angle for his vote counting as three, being the savior of the Jujutsu world and all, but Megumi is already climbing in the car without him. If there’s anything Gojo hates more in the world than being ignored, it’s being left out, so he’s climbing in too, acting as if it was his plan all along. 

Halfway in, Gojo cracks like you knew he would. Somehow, road trips are just the perfect vehicle for heart-to-heart conversations. The monotony of the highways create an itch for vulnerable conversations. That, and Gojo has a bad habit of blurting out whatever’s on his mind anyway. He’s never learned the meaning of the word filter. 

“I don’t know how to be a dad,” Gojo admits. “I don’t even know if I want to be one.”

You turn to double check that Megumi’s actually asleep before you give him an admonishing look. He should’ve checked first. 

“See,” he says. “This is what I mean.” 

“It’s okay, Satoru,” you say. “We’re still learning. This is new.”

“I’m not ready. I don’t think I’ll ever be.” 

“Me neither,” you admit. “I’m so scared I’m going to mess this up.” 

Gojo laughs. “And here I thought you knew everything.” 

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you. It stretches for a few miles as you turn the conversation over in your head, trying to think through the answer. 

“How do we do this?” Gojo whispers. “This is a kid. I can’t- what I usually do isn’t going to work. If we fuck up, we fuck him up.”

You know what he means. Every mistake feels irreversible. Some days, you want nothing more than to take Megumi back to campus and demand Yaga do something about it, even though you feel guilty immediately afterwards. This responsibility weighs heavy on your shoulders. 

“I don’t know, Satoru. We just have to try. The other option-“ 

“There’s no other option,” he says, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m not giving him to the Zenins. He deserves to be a kid.” 

“I agree with you.” 

“Sorry. I know you wouldn’t. I just- Sorry.” 

Without looking, you reach over and pat his knee lightly, accepting his apology. It’s alright. You understand. 

He’s silent for a while. Then he says, “You missed the exit.” 

It throws off your calculations for estimated arrival by nearly thirty whole minutes, but somehow Gojo finds that he doesn’t mind, even though this is the perfect opportunity for him to say I told you so. 

Megumi is still sleeping in the back when you stop. Gojo opens the passenger door just in time to catch him as he slumps forward, having been leaning against it. He stirs a little, but goes right back to sleep after twitching like a puppy. 

“Come on,” he coaxes, “time to get up. We’re here.��� 

Megumi snuffles a little. He must still be half asleep, because he raises his head just enough to place himself over Gojo’s shoulder and wrap his arms around his neck. Megumi’s still young. He still remembers what it’s like to be carried by his father, especially when he’s dreaming. 

Gojo freezes, caught in this awkward hug that Megumi would never willingly be giving while awake. You laugh at the face he’s making. Carefully, gently, one hand goes to Megumi’s back. He scoops him up to carry him out of his seat, holding him as you lock the car. 

Somewhere in the future, Gojo Satoru steps onto the battlefield and knows he’s going to have to kill his boy. He only hopes to bring his body home for Yuuji, for the woman he loves, and for himself. Megumi deserves at least that much from him. 

Here, in the present, Gojo cradles this little body in his arms, more fragile than anything he’s ever been allowed to hold before, and feels his heart swell with an emotion he can’t quite name. All he can do is hold on, gripping your hand as he gives himself over to a force greater than himself for the first time. 

There’s a rising sense of panic in his throat. He’s never been in charge of something so small. It feels as if he’s holding the world in the palm of his hands and it terrifies him. He looks at you, pleading. Asking you to take it from him. It’s too much. 

He’s the strongest, but his heart feels stretched to its limits. It’s hard to breathe with how much he feels in this moment, overwhelming love and a desire to protect. He wants to keep this thing safe from everything in the world that could hurt it. He doesn’t understand what he’s feeling - it hurts. 

It hurts so good. 

This pain is the most beautiful thing he’s ever felt in his whole life. It’s a holy kind of hurt. It feels like Toji sticking the knife through his throat if he had willingly lowered his head and let it happen. He’s so scared of it, drowning in a riptide he can’t control. He wants you to save him from himself. 

He needs you to take this away from him. 

This is something he would ruin himself for. He can’t bear it. 

You press closer, laying your head on his other shoulder as you wrap your arms around them both. He’s breathing shallowly, trying not to disturb the quiet dreamer in his arms. The burden is enormous, but you don’t take it from him. You shoulder it with him, letting yourself fall into the current too. 

It’s humbling to be trapped by a force that Gojo had always thought he would be free from. The first time was bad enough. He had never wanted to experience it again, especially not like this. He made himself strong so he wouldn’t have to feel that vulnerability ever again. 

Even the strongest makes mistakes. This feeling is inescapable.

[hunterscabin]

That’s What I’m Here For

Request: Can you please write an asthmatic reader and Sam and Dean help calm her during an attack because they know what to do - helping her count and breathe and use the inhaler because it’s a really bad attack (I live for whump!) - Anonymous

Pairings: Sam x Asthmatic!Reader; Dean x Asthmatic!Reader

Warnings: Asthma attack; panicked reader; whump; worried Sam & Dean; fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

Author’s Note: Thank you for the prompt, Nonnie! I actually have asthma, so this was somewhat cathartic to write. I hope you enjoy!

Morning had always been your favorite time to run. There was something so calming about watching nature wake up: the sun rising over the treetops, birds greeting the day with their happy chirps. Living the stressful life of a hunter made you truly appreciative of these peaceful moments, and you did your best to incorporate them into your daily routine. 

You were on a small trail that looped around the woods near the bunker. It stretched roughly two miles, the perfect length for a morning jog. Although you maintained a steady pace, you noticed your breathing rate increase around the one and a half mile mark. Wanting to enjoy the tranquility of the outdoors a little longer, you shrugged off the warning sign. Now, on the last leg of your run, a familiar sensation tugged at your chest. 

Slowing your pace, you reached into your running belt and felt for your inhaler. When you found nothing, you tried the other pocket. It wasn’t there. 

“How could I be so stupid,” you wondered. Asthma had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember, and you always had an inhaler with you in case of emergencies. 

Panicking would surely make things worse, so you ran through your usual mantra of reassuring phrases:

“You can still talk, which means you’re getting enough air.”

“Your inhaler is close.”

“Sam and Dean will be able to help." 

While your personal pep talk kept your mental game in check, the tightness in your chest continued to twist, and you were beginning to feel your throat constrict. By the time the bunker came into view, you were in the throes of a full-blown asthma attack. 

The bunker door was twice as heavy in your current condition, but with a weak heave, you managed to nudge it open just enough to slink through. The door closed behind you with a thud, and you braced yourself against the loft railing. 

"Y/N,” Sam called when he heard the bunker door close, “Dean found a hunt while you were on your run.” When you didn’t reply, Sam shouted after you again. “We’re in the library!”

No longer able to support yourself, you fell to your hands and knees gasping for air. 

“Y/N?” Dean yelled a little louder, thinking you may not have heard Sam. When you still didn’t respond, the brothers exchanged a worried look. 

You needed help, but you could no longer speak; there was no way you had enough breath to call downstairs. Trying to conserve what little energy you had left, you kicked over a small bucket of bullet casings sitting next to the door. At the sound of shells loudly scattering across the floor, Sam and Dean darted toward the stairs.

“Y/N!” Sam and Dean’s speed increased when they saw you on all fours. They quickly scaled the staircase and were next to you within seconds. Dean landed at your side and placed a hand on your back. Sam knelt in front of you, taking your face in his hands. 

“Y/N/N, what’s wrong?” Sam’s hands moved from your cheeks to your shoulders and down your arms as he felt for injuries. 

You responded by placing a hand on your chest.  

“Y/N/N, are you having an asthma attack?" 

Your eyes widened in confirmation and both brothers began to move on autopilot. 

"Where is your inhaler?” Sam couldn’t hide the concern in his voice. He and Dean had been helping you cope with asthma ever since you joined them, but it never got any easier seeing you struggle for air, especially when an attack was this bad. 

You tried to respond, but all that came out was a stifled wheeze. Sam knew they were running out of time. 

“I think she keeps one on her nightstand?” Dean offered. Again, words failed you, but found the strength to nod “yes.” As soon as he had confirmation, Sam shot up and ran to your bedroom. Without Sam to lean on, you began to sway, and Dean slid behind you for support. 

“Lean against me, Y/N/N.” Dean eased you into a seated position between his legs. Your fists gripped the rough material of his jeans as you fought for air. 

“I know it’s hard, sweetheart, but try to relax.” Dean’s big hands enveloped your upper arms. He massaged them as he ran his thumbs across your shoulders. Your head lolled back in the crook of his neck. 

“That’s my girl,” he soothed, “Try to match my breathing.” You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, but no matter how hard you focused, you could not calm the urgency coursing through your body. You were fighting a losing battle against the panic churning inside you when you heard the comforting sound of Sam’s boots growing louder as he bound up the stairs. 

Sam crouched down, and you reached out a shaking hand to take your inhaler from him. “I’ve got it, baby girl.” Sam flashed you a sympathetic smile, “You just relax against Dean.”

Sam wrapped one hand behind your neck and eased the pump between your lips with the other. 

“Ready?” You nodded weakly and Sam released a puff into your mouth. Sam’s heart dropped as he watched most of the medicine billow past your lips. 

“I know it hurts, Y/N, but you have to do your best to take a deep breath.” Sam’s hand left your neck. “When you feel ready, squeeze my hand, and I’ll give you another puff, okay?”

You closed your eyes, mustering all of the strength you could and squeezed Sam’s hand. He discharged the medicine, and you took a shaky but complete breath. 

“That’s it, Y/N/N,” Sam encouraged, “Let’s do a couple more.” After two more puffs, the tension in your throat eased. Sam set down the inhaler and grabbed your other hand.

“Slow breaths, Y/N/N,” Sam lowered his head to yours, “Look at me, baby.” Sam took a deep breath in through his nose and exhaled slowly through his mouth. You followed his example and took a shaky breath of your own. 

“In: one, two three,” Sam coached, “Out: one, two, three, four, five.” He could see your face begin to relax as the medicine took its full effect. 

“Good job, Y/N/N. In: one, two, three. Out: one, two, three, four, five.” 

Sam guided you through counting your breaths until your breathing evened and returned to a normal rate.  

“How you feelin’, honey?” Dean questioned behind you, his hands still rubbing your arms. 

“Better,” you replied in a raspy voice. “My chest is still tight.”

“We’ll get you downstairs to your room and set up a breathing treatment.” Sam assured. Both brothers were surprised when you shook your head “no.”

“Sweetheart,” Dean’s voice was gentle but firm, “you need a breathing treatment.”  

“I know,” you wheezed, “Sammy’s room." 

"You want to go to my room?” Sam asked, a hint of confusion in his voice. You usually wanted Dean after a particularly bad attack. When you nodded “yes,” his heart swelled. “Of course we can go to my room, Y/N/N. C’mere.”

Sam got on one knee and scooped you up in his arms. He carried you down to his room and laid you on the bed. He turned to go prepare your breathing treatment, but you grabbed his hand. Dean saw and smiled at his younger brother. “I’ve got it,” he mouthed across the room.

Sam walked around to the other side of the bed and propped up several pillows. He took off his boots and crawled in, leaning against the headboard. He reached over and pulled you to him, lifting you onto his chest. He used a pillow to support your back, knowing that being elevated would help your breathing. 

Dean came back with your nebulizer and set it on the bed next to Sam. He filled the cartridge with medicine and attached the tubing to the mask. Dean gently lifted your head and placed the mask over your nose and mouth. He turned on the machine, and you began breathing in the mist, feeling relief almost immediately. Dean leaned in, placed a kiss on your forehead, and then looked down to his brother. 

“I’m gonna get her some water, you need anything?" 

Sam shook his head. All he needed was to know that you were okay. Dean left for the kitchen and Sam tightened his grip around you.

"Thank you, Sammy,” you muttered through the mask. Sam exhaled in amusement at your gratitude. As if there was anything he and Dean wouldn’t do to keep you safe. 

“Anytime, Y/N/N,” he placed a kiss on top of your head, “That’s what I’m here for."

Tags: @senjoritanana​

Masterlist

[omensblogspost]

-Bleeding Out-

Just Noah. - SHORT STORY -

“My anxiety is stressing me out. Do you think we’ll actually make the album succeed??” Noah asked Matt.

Matt looked at Noah, his hair was ruffled, underneath his hat as his ponytail hung loose. “Noah you just have to relax. You wanted to sell out, didn’t you? Just take things one step at a time.” Matt replied as vague as possible. Noah moaned. “Ugghhh. I guess.” He replied. Scratching at the back of his neck the room grew quiet. Hearing the clicking and typing Matt was making, Noah kept looking at his phone.

Scrolling through every Instagram, X, Tik Tok, and Facebook post their fans have commented on. “They seem pretty quiet lately.” Noah mentioned. “Who?” Matt asked curiously. Raising his eyebrow. “The fans…Ever since I posted that I had a huge burn out they’ve been really supportive. Well- technically not everyone some people just bombed us with hate comments.”

Sitting in his chair inclined and slouched, Noah sighed once more. “We just need to take it slow. We’ve just gone through inkcarceration. It seemed you were pretty tired still. Nick, Ruffilo, and Jolly were mentioning it to me, but I didn’t want to say anything.” Matt said as he turned his attention to Noah.

“I guess so. But you’ve been with us the longest. So I guess I owe it to them telling you.” Noah said. “Noah Sebastian Davis, I see you as a son haha. It’s my duty to be concerned for you. Your burn out was pretty bad, and still is.” Matt said as he crossed his arms across his chest. Noah smirked slightly trying not to let out a laugh. “Yes sir.” He replied as he sarcastically saluted Matt.

Matt scuffed. “I’m deadass here dude. We’re all very protective of you.” He replied, gazing instinctively at him. Noah casually smiled. “Yeah, yeah.” He said softly.

“Well what are you going to do for the rest of the day?” Matt asked. Noah was silent, as he questioned the situation deep in thought. Everything seemed fuzzy and clouded, but he made an effort to think. “I could sleep more. Maybe find my catatonic peace.” Noah suggested.

“Sleeping is always nice, but what about working out? Or playing pool? You like that.” Matt said casually as he smiled at Noah. “True. I do like pool…” he mentioned. “I mean there’s also therapy. That’s been helping a lot lately.” He continued on.

Matt smiled. “Good.” But there’s also you know other ways to cope with stress. Like seeing pretty women once in awhile.” Matt winked. Noah put his hand to his face. “Haha. Very funny.” He said melancholy.

“Suit yourself.” Matt said as he got out of the chair and stood up. “Is it done?” Noah asked, looking at Matt with his brown eyes. Matt yawned. “Close..I’m just tired, I’m gonna go to bed soon.” He replied as he stretched his aching body into the air, hollering a huge groan.

“I think you’re going to like it. The next phase of the concrete jungle series. Except this is a new album. Which means people may or may not like it.” Matt said, now taking his hand under his chin and putting it there. Rubbing at his thoughts.

Noah stood up, and stretched. “Good, I was getting quite bored over here just staring at you.”

Matt narrowed his expression. Bringing out a smirk. “Alright man.” He said as he patted Noah on the back. “I feel like music is your therapy. You seem quite happy when you’re here in the studio.” Matt said as he smiled.

“Yeah. I really like it. It’s comforting.” Noah replied smiling back. “Well I gotta get going then. I need to see what’s going on with this person who seems too concerned.” Matt said as he started to walk off. “What person?” Noah asked raising his eyebrow. “Nah. Just a concerned fan. I guess. I’m not sure. But I’m keeping tabs if she does something funny.” Matt said.

“Is she hot?” Noah asked curiously. “Oh fuck yeah man. Definitely. She’s a fucking babe.” Matt laughed under his breath, trying not to blush. Noah laughed. “Ooohkay.” “If only you can see what she looks like you’d be hella staring all day.” Matt hollered. “Maybe I will.” Noah yelled back.

“Hmm. I wonder who she is…” Noah said to himself as he walked back to the chair and into the lighting screen. He grabbed his monitor phones and put them on, casually sitting as comfortable as his big stature can possibly make.

Tuning in the sound of the static noise, everything else around the room was growing softer. It felt very calming. He began clicking and editing where Matt left off. Adding notes to the sound. His stress was calming down.

Matt was right. Maybe I just need time to relax.

Noah thought to himself. Being off of social media was helping. He needed a time off of this two year tour. It was good being back home after two years. He had his own bed, shower, bathroom, kitchen area all to himself. Well-clearly not everything.

“He needs to go back on twitch.”

A fan commented as he scrolled through his phone. Still sitting in the arm chair at his computer desk. Noah was reading the comments. “Twitch huh?” He mumbled. “I had some good times on there.” He remembered as he smiled.

Another user wrote.

“Do you think they’ll find the time to make more merch? They posted the loading screen. Maybe it’ll be something huge?”

“That would be amazing if they did!! I just hope they get the ideal rest. You know how burn outs are.”

Another user replied.

“They just have to wait and see.” Noah said out loud. Hiding his smile over his hand, as it rested beside his chin. “God. If it weren’t for this burnout I wouldn’t let the fans worry this much. I hate it. It makes me even more scared if fans are going to unfollow.” Noah muttered.

“I really need to get back on my feet. But at the same time Matt said to take it slow. I just hope I’m doing the right thing-“ he said worrisome.

Just then a knock on the door was heard. “Yes?” Noah yelled. “Yo dude, you good? You’ve been cooped up there for three hours.” It was Jolly. Noah picked on his eyebrow.

“Yeah I’m good. Sorry I’ve been finishing up some stuff here. I guess I got carried away by scrolling through my phone.” Noah mentioned.

“Mind if I come in?” Jolly asked. “Sure.” Noah replied. Jolly turned the knob door open as the actual door creaked open. “I brought your BLT.” He smiled as he walked in.

“My BLT? You know how picky I am I hope you didn’t mess it up.” Noah teased. “HAHAAHA. How would I mess it up?” Jolly hollered with laughter. “Because i invented it you ass.” Noah replied as he giggled. “You love me.” Jolly mentioned as he sat down on the couch, beside Noah. “You know, you don’t have to let yourself bleed out.” Jolly suggested as he began stuffing his face with food.

“What do you mean by that?” Noah asked as he walked over to Jolly, sitting down next to him. Munching on his food he swallowed half. “I mean you don’t have to keep yourself occupied 24/7. You need to take time and relax. We have two months for the Mayhem to happen. Just mellow out in the meantime.”

“Yeah. I know. I just- I don’t want to let the fans down.” Noah reasoned. Taking a small bite of the BLT. “This is a really good sandwich.” He said with his mouth full.

“Thankyou. I’m glad you like it.” Jolly smiled. “Also you’re not letting the fans down. They seem very supportive in this burn out situation you have. Don’t overthink it.” He added.

Noah smiled once more. “Thankyou for the food. I really appreciate it.” Noah commented.

Jolly smiled and patted Noah on the shoulder. “You’re welcome my friend. My brother. Haha.” He said as he munched on his sandwich now half way gone. “We’re doing a good job here. Nick and Folio are proud of you. Of us. Look how far we’ve gone as a band. And 2 years of sold out tickets are you kidding!!? That’s the dream life. My wife is proud.”

“I bet she is. Haha. I’ll try to not overthink it. Thanks for the advice Jolly.” Noah replied gleefully.

As time flew by, Jolly and Noah kept having a heart to heart conversation. As it was getting late, both Noah and Jolly seemed to get tired.

“Alright Noah, good night. I better head off to bed.” Jolly said as he stood up, grabbing both plates and heading out the door. “Good night Jolly. You are disconnected for today.” Noah replied sarcastically.

Jolly laughed as he opened up the door and headed out. “Disconnect until further notice.” Jolly joked.

Noah seemed a bit more confident than before. His worries went away as he described his feelings about everything.

Putting on his sweatpants and laid back t-shirt, he swaddled into bed and made himself comfortable. The darkened room was all he could see. A finally well rested sleep. Feeling from the jet lag he was experiencing.

Snuggled up and wrapped like a burrito, he slowly closed his eyes and drifted off into a restful nights sleep.

[royalvelvette]

bad dreams make me get up and walk

(Day 4: First Tears)

Read on Ao3

Rating: T

Characters: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie Minor Appearance: Lute

Warnings: Nightmares, Broken Bones Word Count: 1452

Lute stood above her, tall and powerful and cold.

Vaggie would have thought her beautiful, if not for the fact Lute had just gouged out one of her eyes.

Lute planted her foot between Vaggie’s wings, shoving her into the dirt. “Sinful filth like you has no place in Heaven,” she spat.

“He was a child,” Vaggie gasped, or tried to. The pain makes it hard to know if she actually said anything at all.

Lute said nothing. One of her hands holds one of Vaggie’s wings aloft, the other petting the feathers gently, almost as if she was preening.

“There is no justifying your sin,” Lute said finally, in a voice that wasn’t wholly her own. “You will not feel Heaven’s light again.”

So saying, the hand in Vaggie’s feathers moved to join its twin on her wing. Vaggie didn’t even have a second to brace herself before Lute twisted her hands in opposite directions, breaking Vaggie’s wing with a near-deafening snap.

Vaggie shot upright, gasping and choking on her own breath. It wasn’t the first time she had been forced to relive that night in her dreams, but it was the first time it had been quite so... personal. Lute had barely touched her when cutting off her wings. She definitely didn’t break one of them before doing so.

Doing so would have required touching sinful filth for something other than killing, after all.

But even still... Vaggie lifted her hand to her cheek, unsurprised to find it damp. The nightmare had felt so real. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, reaching out to grab her spear from where it leaned against the nightstand. It wasn’t the first time bad dreams had woken her up – she knew the evening dose of medication had probably worn off, or was about to.

As embarrassing as it was to use her weapon as a makeshift cane, Vaggie would take that over Charlie finding her crawling around on the floor like some sort of animal. Once was more than enough, thank you.

Vaggie opened the door cautiously. Charlie had been doing a lot recently, to make her feel more welcome, but... she didn’t know this place. She didn’t trust this place the same way she had the shitty apartment she shared with Lute, or even the same way she trusted the gated city. Hell was dangerous, even in nominally ‘safe’ territories.

Vaggie took special care to tread quietly as she left her the room.

Charlie shifted on the couch. The downside of inviting a sinner into her home (pretty sinner or not) meant that Charlie had been crashing on the parlour couch while waiting for a second bed to arrive. It made it even harder than usual to fall asleep, because even after Charlie managed to calm her racing thoughts, she had a hard time getting comfortable enough to actually fall asleep.

It didn’t matter, though! Vaggie needed her bed more than she did, right now. She had to be as comfortable as possible while she recovered from her extermination day injuries. Even though Charlie’s legs consistently hung over the arm of the couch at an uncomfortable angle and it was getting harder and harder to keep smiling. It didn’t matter. Vaggie needed the bed, so Vaggie would have the bed. Charlie could cope.

...

Nope! No, she couldn’t. Charlie sat up, stretching her legs out far enough that they shook from the strain. She’d just... go for a little walk, maybe? Get a drink, or something. Anything to make her tired enough to not think about how much she missed her bed when she once again laid down on the couch.

(She wasn’t going to put Vaggie out. Not when Vaggie needed the comfort of a bed more than her, and almost definitely wouldn’t be down for sharing.)

The walk to the kitchen was, unfortunately, quite short. Charlie got turned the tap on before getting herself a glass out of the cupboard. She would drink her water, maybe do a quick walk around the hotel to make sure everyone (Vaggie) was okay and accounted for.

Anything to stall lying back down on that stupid couch.

Vaggie blinked as she came down the stairs.

The light. In the kitchen. Was on.

Her grip on her spear tightened. She tread quieter than ever as she approached the room in question. Her hand was starting to hurt, along with the near-constant burn of her back, from how tightly she was gripping her spear.

(She wouldn’t let anything hurt Charlie, not after everything the she was doing for Vaggie, not after Vaggie owed her her very life.)

She was bracing herself to lunge around the corner when soft humming reached her ears. Familiar humming.

Charlie.

Vaggie relaxed, letting her spear return to her side. She hobbled into the kitchen – unblinded by her panic, she was now aware of the sound of the tap running. She tapped her spear on the next step a little louder than strictly necessary to let Charlie know she was there.

Charlie jumped like she had been electrocuted, kicking out behind her with enough force to dent the cabinet door. “Shit- Vaggie??”

Vaggie coughed. “Uh, yeah. Didn’t mean to scare you, sorry,” she said, making a mental note to never be in range of those – were those hooves? - of that kick.

Charlie turned around, the cup of water in her hand nearly sloshing over the top. “Oh, no, it’s okay! You just startled me.”

Vaggie raised her eyebrow, glancing at the dented cabinet.

Charlie offered her a sheepish smile. “Okay, maybe you did scare me a little. But only a little!”

“What’re you doing up, anyway?” Vaggie asked.

Charlie held up her water. “You want some?”

“...sure.”

Vaggie seemed... off, to Charlie. Like, aside from the fact she was awake in the middle of the night. Charlie passed her a cup full of water – less so than Charlie’s, no need to tempt fate when Vaggie was still recovering – and really... looked at her.

Vaggie’s lips quirked up into a confused sort of half-smile. “Do I have something on my face?”

Charlie squinted, trying to figure out what was different. “... have you been crying?” she asked.

Vaggie jerked back. Despite the fact her cup wasn’t as full as Charlie’s, some of the water spilt onto the floor with the abrupt movement. Charlie winced.

“Sorry, that – you don’t have to tell me,” she rushed to say. “I just – you look a little different and I couldn’t figure out why but you look like you’ve been crying and- oh, you’re probably in pain- hang on, I can get-”

Charlie snapped her mouth shut with a click when Vaggie held up her hand. What the fuck was wrong with her, who just asks something like that?! She really was clueless.

Vaggie sighed. “It’s... okay,” she said finally. “I’m not in enough pain to take something for it.”

“But...?” Charlie asked.

“I just had... a bad dream,” Vaggie said. “Waking up alone after, in a place I don’t know, didn’t... help. I figured I’d get a drink or something and go back to bed.”

Charlie sipped at her water. The idea of Vaggie having nightmares... hadn’t occurred to her, honestly. It should have, in hindsight, but, well. Too little, too late.

“Can I hug you,” she blurted, before slamming her hand over her mouth.

Vaggie jerked back again, though less abruptly this time. “...I guess?”

Charlie crossed the distance between them in two long strides, wrapping her arms around Vaggie and pulling her close. She didn’t even care when Vaggie’s water spilled down the front of her nightgown. She just needed to hold her. She pressed her face to Vaggie’s hair.

“I’m sorry you had a nightmare,” she said, muffled. “I’m sorry you were alone.”

“It’s... okay?” Vaggie said, patting her on the back awkwardly. “It’s not like it’s your fault. I think.”

Charlie finally let go a moment later, swiping at her own eyes before Vaggie could realize she had been crying into her hair. Vaggie was looking up at her with wide eyes, like she was seeing Charlie for the very first time. Now it was Charlie’s turn to smile self-consciously.

“What?” she asked, aiming for teasing and missing by a mile. “Do I have something on my face?”

Vaggie stared. She... hadn’t known that demons could cry. Not really.

Before she could think better of it, Vaggie stepped into Charlie’s space and wrapped her arms around the taller woman’s waist. “Thank you,” she said, pressing her face against Charlie’s stomach to hide her own renewed tears.

She pretended not to notice the choked sound Charlie made as she pulled Vaggie even closer.

[zukkaoru]

ummmmm how about 3, 8, & 10 for fyonikonathan, montcott, and/or kunichuuzai (however you want to split the numbers and ships up lol)

also ily <333

fyonikonathan

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope

well. on one hand. fyodor. because [redacted]. you know how it is (<- said to everyone except corey). and they react by ignoring all of their feelings of course. on the other hand. nikolai. and he reacts like this and this

8. What they argue about

religion. nikolai being against it entirely ofc but i also just know fyodor and nathaniel are fighting about the nitpicky things like whether you should be dunked under the water forwards or backwards when you're baptized

10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other

nikolai doesn't hide anything he watches. he's out here handcuffing both fyodor and nathaniel to the couch so they can watch all of riverdale and he is having a GREAT time. fyodor says he doesn't watch tv but does in fact rather enjoy soap operas. he and nathaniel watched the bible miniseries together to see if it was accurate or not and they took a great many precautions to make sure nikolai wouldn't interrupt. nathaniel actually doesn't watch much tv unless nikolai is forcing him to watch something. the three of them watch a lot of trashy reality tv together bc nikolai loves the drama and the other two are handcuffed to the couch again

montcott

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope

i think. probably louisa outlives lucy. and she doesn't handle it well. she wants to lock herself in a room and use her ability because that's always what she's done to avoid facing her problems, except that will only make her life stretch on longer, so she stops using her ability at all. louisa's religious beliefs are very,, she doesn't exactly know what she believes but if she does believe in anything, it tells her she isn't going to see lucy again because lucy definitely didn't believe in the same things as louisa so she can live for another million years or she could die right now and it wouldn't make any difference. she hopes there's no afterlife so she doesn't have to deal with missing lucy anymore. she hates what she believes in, but that doesn't make her stop believing it. she's having a very bad time.

8. What they argue about

their big argument before they sort things out is about lucy betraying the guild + louisa just standing by and doing nothing while everyone treated lucy like crap after the ada figured out her ability. once they get past that and rekindle their friendship/relationship, smaller things they argue about are whether or not reading is fun (louisa thinks yes; lucy thinks no) whether sticking pins/needles through the top layer of your skin is a fine thing to do (lucy thinks yes; louisa thinks no), how many stuffed animals is too many (lucy thinks there is no such thing; louisa would like some room on the bed for herself please), and also their differing opinions on fashion (lucy likes fun flashy things and louisa prefers simple outfits)

10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other

lucy makes louisa watch reality shows that center around fashion/clothes with her (say yes to the dress, america's next top model). lucy also probably has watched keeping up with the kardashians but refuses to admit it. louisa prefers fictional tv shows, usually ones that take place in the real world but have magical elements (the librarians, witches of east end) but she's watched. a lot of different shows. bc growing up, she would use her ability to just read books/watch tv shows and movies to escape reality. she hides the fact that she's seen every episode of shows like riverdale and supernatural and sherlock bc they weren't that good but she enjoyed watching them anyway

kunichuuzai

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope

kunikida . i think. dazai and chuuya are going to go together and they're going to leave kunikida behind and he's going to be angry at first because it's easier than being sad. he doesn't cope well. he keeps forgetting they're not coming back this time.

8. What they argue about

whether a diet consisting entirely of canned crab is sustainable (dazai says yes, kuni and chuuya say no), whether or not wine is good (dazai says no, kuni and chuuya say yes), whether or not chuuya's hat ugly (dazai says yes, chuuya says no, kuni refuses to get involved in that one), whether they should get a dog (chuuya says yes just a small one, dazai says no because he doesn't like dogs and they're too much work, kunikida says no because chuuya you are ALLERGIC TO THEM), and also there has to be one big argument about kunikida's ideal partner and is he actually going to stay with chuuya and dazai or is he just wasting time while he waits for the Right Person to come along and he can leave them behind

10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other

dazai makes the other two watch trashy reality tv and poorly-written dramas. chuuya pretends to hate it but ends up getting the most invested out of all of them. kunikida puts up with it because his partners enjoy it, and he likes seeing their reactions. dazai doesn't hide anything he watches. chuuya probably has one comfort cartoon they watch when they're having a bad day but will absolutely die before admitting as much. kunikida doesn't watch much tv in general, but he does sort of hide that he enjoys watching nature documentaries with kenji. it's not an on-purpose secret; he just never mentions it to dazai and chuuya

[luinhealthcare]

Hello lovely Lofty❤️

What would you say is the pros and cons of EMS work?? Or like, things you would say to someone looking to be an EMT?

I have a full time job I don't plan on leaving, but tbh learning about what you do and reading your stories has kind of put it on my heart and I was curious if volunteer EMT jobs are a thing. Like, getting all the training done and then volunteering when I can?

Idk, I was just curious if you had anything to say regarding this😅

I could probably google some of this info but if if you feel like answering it would be appreciated! I value your opinion❤️

Ok, give me just a sec—*SQUEALS excitedly into pillow*

Hello Anon! :D That’s so exciting to hear!! I’m glad you’d rather just do it volunteer, as career EMS pays very little (my nursing job is what keeps a roof over my head, not my EMS one lol), but nearly every agency in my area has volunteers so I imagine it’s the same for your area!

So general pros and cons for EMS:

Pros

Tight knit work crew - These people see some bad things together, and trauma bonding is a thing, so they tend to be pretty close and have a lot of fun together. A note of care, we all have dark senses of humor. It’s a natural coping mechanism for people, and it can make life really funny too. But generally, working with EMS providers is quite fun! There will probably also be things like banquets, cookouts, and other fun bonding activities!

Boo boo bus - Driving is one of my least favorite parts of the job, but it is very fun to drive the truck around with lights and sirens and have the power to stop traffic and go through a red light lol. Super dangerous, but very fun

Knowledge - You learn so much in EMS! Medicine and our understanding of diseases and injuries is constantly changing, so you’ll always learn something new if you keep up with your training. Speaking of which, your agency will provide training opportunities to help you grow!

Patient care - You’ll find that the majority of your calls aren’t actually emergencies, but when you can actually take care of someone who needs you, you’re gonna ride that adrenaline high for ages. I still remember calls from years ago where I actually made a difference in someone’s life, and it’s a thrilling feeling.

Shift style - We work in 12-24 hour blocks, which means you knock out your work week in 2-3 days. As a volunteer your hour requirement would be much less than 36, but you could knock out a 24 hour monthly requirement in a single day if you wanted. Also, depending on a few factors (day vs night shift, busyness of your run area), you could literally just be spending your time chilling between calls. Sometimes I bring video games to work and play the switch because we have so much downtime. At night we get paid to just sleep if nobody’s calling 911.

Cons

Management/staffing - Like most jobs, somehow we’re all cursed with idiots in charge. Obviously this is variable, but a general trend in EMS is to overwork its people and toss them out to sea before they sometimes feel ready. And also like most jobs, we’re perpetually short staffed and everyone gets stretched thin to make up for it. Luckily for you, this shouldn’t be as big a problem because volunteers are usually treated very well!

Patient care - It’s a pro but it’s a con too. 85% of your calls are going to be for things that people should have never called 911 for. Your big pretty Boo Boo Bus is mostly going to be an Uber. And it will get frustrating, and you will have frequent flyers, and some people are not kind at all. They’ll call for your help and then get pissed off at you for trying to help. Anyone who’s worked customer service can relate, I’m sure. You get trained to handle life and death emergencies and then instead you’re picking someone up for a cough they’ve had for three days and you’re wondering when you became their mother/father and have to take the baby to the doctor when they haven’t tried anything to take care of themselves at home or see a less urgent health facility. It will burn you out if you’re not careful.

TMI - Speaking of patient care, get ready to see people at their absolute lowest. Hoarder houses, maggots, abusive households, all that jazz. Another reason for trauma bonding with your coworkers! 👍🏻 (This won’t be the majority of your calls, but you’ll see them)

Physical strain - If you don’t take care of your body, this job will hurt you. I’ve thrown my back three times working EMS; there were times where I was hobbling around like an 83-year-old and I was 22. You’ll be lifting patients of every weight, you’re gonna be contorted in weird positions trying to splint someone, CPR is a cardio exercise in itself (lol), you will probably be sore after some calls like you just went to the gym. Also, we don’t take meal breaks - you eat when you can, and you will become a speed eater very quickly in this line of work.

Mental strain - You’re gonna learn a lot about yourself and others in this work. How do you cope with stress? You will watch people die, you will see suicides and shootings and stabbings, you will watch family hurt each other and grieve over lost loved ones. You will be on edge for the majority of your shift as you wait for the tones to drop, you will be stressed trying to find an address or navigate the road and make sure nobody gets into a wreck with you. Military and first responders are so alike because the stress level and distribution is quite similar - downtime with boredom gets interspersed with spikes of huge adrenaline rushes. Have good coping skills, have a strong support system, take care of yourself. 95% of the people I know on duty are in therapy to stay sane.

Overall, I adore EMS. If I could survive off EMS pay I’d work it full time and do nursing as a side gig for funsies lol. The majority of the work is fairly mundane, but when you get to make a difference boy do you get to make a difference. And you’ll have so many funny stories to share. And the people are awesome.

Hope this helps! :D

[arrow-guy]

Within the Ashes (1/??)

Summary: You’ve spent your life working for someone else. You watch their back, you protect them, but you’re left feeling empty and unfulfilled at the end of the day. What happens when a freak accident transports you to a different dimension, very nearly identical to your own?

A/N: Please understand this has been in my head for almost a year at this point and started out with the reader being an LMD without knowing it. That’s definitely not the situation with the story now, but please know it’s been through a lot of Idea Workshopping lmao. Also, the version of the FF that’s in this story is definitely a very Fanfiction-ified version, but it’s my coping mechanism, so I decide who’s good and who’s gay. Thank u for coming to my preface, please enjoy the first chapter.

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong​​

Pairing: StevexReader, background Spideytorch

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Fire, explosions, extreme injury (burns, cuts, contusions), gross descriptions of burns, rapid healing, canon typical violence

“Reed, I honestly don’t think we should test it today.”

“And why’s that?”

“Promise you’ll take my concerns seriously? Because you’ve been a dick about it every other time.”

Without looking away from his screens, Reed suggests, “How about you tell me, and I’ll do my level best to keep an open mind.”

“Fine.” It’s not much, but she knows it’s the best she’ll get. “I just have a bad feeling about it.”

“Another gut feeling?” He finally turns his head to look at her, eyebrows raised dramatically. “Is that really enough to put off this test?”

“We live in a world where magic is real and you’re questioning a gut feeling?” She folds her arms. “There’s evidence that proves the existence of a nervous system in the stomach, Reed. You know this. Gut feelings are a thing, and very seldom are mine wrong. And you’d know this if you ever cared to actually listen to me.”

Reed stretches his neck so that his face is just slightly too close to (Y/N)’s. “Name one instance.”

“Two weeks ago when you were tinkering with that vacuum chamber. I told you something was wrong with it, you brushed it off because it was a gut feeling. Then it blew up.”

“Oh please-”

“I had a six inch shard of glass stuck in my shoulder!”

He rolls eyes and his head snaps back to his shoulders. Reed waves her off. “You healed.”

“I wouldn’t have had to heal in the first place if you’d listened to me.”

“We’re still testing the transport today.”

“Seriously?”

“I… respect your gut feelings, but we can’t allow that to get in the way of the progression of science.”

(Y/N) scowls. “This is exactly why no one wants to work with you.”

“You want to work with me.”

“I took the job as a favor to Johnny.”

“And yet it’s been eight years.”

“Yeah,” she mutters. “Eight years of me getting blown up and lugging shit all across the countryside.”

“I heard that.”

“Good.”

(Y/N) grabs her empty mug from her work table and stalks down to the kitchen. Sue is sitting at the bar when she walks in. She waves in lieu of a greeting and keeps her eyes trained on the tablet in her hand.

(Y/N) pours herself a cup of coffee and stares down at the full mug. The realization of what the rest of the day might hold hits her and she’s just about ready to give up. She tips her head back, covers her face, and groans.

“I think your husband’s trying to kill me.”

“Well that’s nothing new,” Sue says. “What’d he do this time?”

“He wants to test that interdimensional transport he’s been working on. I have a bad feeling about it, but I don’t have the knowledge to back it up, so he’s just brushing my concerns to the side.”

“Well that doesn’t sound good.”

“He always ignores me. And every single time, I’m the one caught in the blast. Literally.”

“I know, (Y/N), I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) dumps sugar and cream into her coffee and sighs. “If I don’t come back from the lab today, Reed did it.”

“Duck and cover if something starts sparking.”

“We’ll see if I even get the chance.”

(Y/N) takes her coffee, drains half the mug in one go, and goes back to the lab.

Reed doesn’t seem to have noticed her absence, so she simply takes herself and her coffee to her table and waits for instructions.

“It’s not supposed to make that noise, right?”

“It is not,” Reed confirms.

The thunking noise coming from the transport grows louder and (Y/N) resists the urge to rub her temples. Reed doesn’t appear to be particularly concerned as he stretches across the length of the lab, searching for the source of the sound.

“Something must be loose,” (Y/N) says. “Is it on the body?”

“Not that I can see.” A sheet of metal shears off of one of the machine’s rotating arms and (Y/N) yanks him back just far enough that it misses slicing off his nose. “Thank you.”

“So something’s wrong with the arms,” (Y/N) posits. “The most dangerous part of the machine.”

“It would seem so.”

“I vote we turn it off and try again next week.”

“We don’t know if that’s enough to hinder its performance.”

“It’s enough to hinder our performance as living, breathing people.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Reed creeps closer to his machine and (Y/N) cringes at the way she immediately follows behind.

“It’s securely locked away with the part of me that wanted to be a superhero.” She pulls him out of the way of another flying scrap of machine. “Because, contrary to popular opinion, just because I heal quickly doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt when I’m injured.”

“Hm, maybe we should look at that when we’re finished here.”

“Maybe you should find a new assistant when we’re finished here.”

Reed says something about her not being any fun, but she doesn’t register any of it. Her eyes are drawn to sparking near the base of the machine. Another chunk goes flying at them just as some of the sparks are sucked into the vent below the arms. (Y/N) is struck by the flying machine chunk as she shields Reed from it. She winces and hears an unidentifiable function of the transport stutter as another plume of sparks is sucked into the vent. She grabs as much of Reed’s body as she can and throws him towards the door, limbs flapping behind him, right as the entire machine explodes.

The force of the explosion propels Reed out into the hallway, but (Y/N) is caught in the blast. There’s a bright white flash and a blood-curdling scream and then all that’s left is the fire.

Sue is sprinting up the hallway with Ben and Johnny on her heels just as Reed manages to get his feet under himself again. All he can do is stare.

“What happened?” Sue demands. “Where is (Y/N)?”

“She saw what was happening before I did. She threw me out of the lab, but…”

“Reed,” Sue’s voice is deadly low. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t listen,” he says. “The transport malfunctioned and (Y/N) was caught in the blast.”

“Johnny,” Sue is very careful to keep her voice steady. “Put out the fire.”

Johnny simply does as he’s told. He disappears into the fire to absorb what he can and stomp out the rest. Ben surveys the progress from just outside the doorway. He says something about calling Peter and Johnny agrees from somewhere deeper in the lab.

“I screwed up, Sue.”

“No, Reed, you killed our friend. Your employee, might I add. And not even two hours ago she said you were trying to kill her.”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything of the sort.”

“I know that, but you get so blinded by your work that you can’t see when you’re putting people in danger.”

Johnny appears in the darkened doorway of the lab, tears rising in steam from his cheeks. “She was my friend, Reed.”

“I know-”

“She took this job because I begged her to!” Johnny shoves Reed, hard, into the wall. Flames lick at his fingers and Ben gently separates him from Reed. “But now she’s gone and I can’t even find her body in that warzone you call a lab.”

Reed frowns. "You didn't find her body?"

"Wh-that’s what you’re focusing on?

“Answer the question, Johnny.”

He scowls. “No, I didn’t find her. She was probably incinerated."

"Are you sure you didn't overlook anything?"

Johnny's shoulders shake with his anger. "I know what charred human remains look like, Reed. She's. Not. There."

Reed raises one shaking hand to his forehead and turns to Sue. “It might’ve worked.”

“What?”

“The transport. If there’s no body-” he rushes past Johnny and Ben without another word. Sue follows silently after him.

“That’s it, I think he finally lost his marbles,” Ben mutters.

“It doesn’t change the fact that he killed (Y/N).” Johnny wipes his eyes and turns to follow Reed to the lap. “God, Peter’s gonna flip when he finds out.”

“Don’t think about that right now,” Ben says.

“Hard not to,” he mumbles.

“I know but, if Reed’s machine did work, she could still be out there.”

“What if this is the time she doesn’t heal? You see how burnt it is in there. How could anyone survive that?”

“Dunno, but (Y/N)’s strong. If anyone could do it, it’d be her.”

Sue reappears in the doorway. Her hands and feet are covered in ash.

“There’s no sign of her,” she says. “We sifted through everything we could. There’s only a spot with slightly less ash than the rest of the room.”

“So you think Reed’s transport worked?” Johnny asks.

“I don’t know what to think. For everyone’s peace of mind, I hope it did. Then we might have a chance to track her down and bring her home.”

Johnny nods and drags his hands through his hair. “I have to make a call.”

Sue rubs his arm and nods. Johnny stalks off down the hall.

“Boss, there’s a disturbance in the electrical field in your lab.”

“Any extra information on that?”

“Based on the readings, it seems that someone may be teleporting directly into the tower.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s the best word I could find.”

Tony frowns. “I’m headed up now. Find Steve and have him meet me there.”

“Of course, boss.”

Steve is already in the lab when Tony arrives, pacing along the far side of the room. There’s a bright ball of light forming in the middle of the lab and Steve’s eyes don’t stray from that spot as he moves, even when Tony strides through the door. Tony just stops and stares at the light.

“How long has that been here?” Tony asks.

“It was here when I walked in.” Steve squints at the light. “What is it?”

“Not sure. F.R.I.D.A.Y.  says someone’s trying to teleport into the tower.”

“Teleport?” Tony nods. “Does that kind of tech actually exist?”

“Not that I know of, but we’ve seen some pretty weird shit in the last ten years. It’d be stupid to just write it off.”

Steve stops pacing and jerks his chin towards the light. “Looks like it’s getting bigger.”

The ball of light slowly, steadily expands. When it’s about as wide as Steve is tall the lab fills with a terrible, painful scream and the light grows too bright for either man to keep their eyes open. The scream grows louder and Steve tries to shield his eyes in an attempt to find where the noise is coming from, but to no avail. Then, suddenly, the screaming stops and the light disappears followed by a distinctly sticky thud.

Tony rubs his eyes and Steve blinks light spots from his vision, willing his eyes to adjust to the room again. When they do, he visibly recoils from the vaguely human shaped mass of burned flesh on the tile in front of him.

"Oh God," he says. "Is that a person?"

----------

Part 2

How’s that for a first chapter? I’ll be very honest, I’m excited to finally be posting this one. It’s been a bit of a brainchild of mine for the better part of a year and a half at this point, maybe more. Pandemic time doesn’t work right.

As always, I’d love to know what you thought of this chapter! What do you think of the reader? Her relationship with Reed and the rest of the FF? What do you think will happen in the next chapter? Be sure to reblog, comment, and/or shoot me an ask and tell me all about it!

Tag List:

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[mlmxreader]

Hurt | Detective Loki x m!reader

areyouwaiting asked: another one because why not

Det. Loki x male reader

"For fuck’s sake, I love you!" as a friends to lovers type of thing?

Danke mein Freund 😌

summary: Loki doesn't take very kindly to it when you meet up with an ex who didn't exactly treat you right.

tws: swearing, horror films

It was like a scorpion had found its way into his chest and had struck him right in the heart. The bite of a venomous snake that would strike every time he thought about it. You, hanging out with an ex who had caused you so much damage and who had hurt you so badly, all because they had told you that they still cared, that they wanted to be friends again. Loki couldn't fucking cope, when he saw that picture on his phone, plastered on social media, he was fucking pissed; as soon as his shift was over, he had marched over to your place, and had found you on the sofa, watching a horror film that had been banned in several countries due to the graphic nature of its content, a horror film so grotesque and so vile that the director had been pulled into court on allegations that he had actually killed members of his cast, he knew it was a good sign, and a little relief flooded through his veins.

He knew that if you were in a particularly bad mood, you would have been in bed watching it and snuggled into the duvet. He knew that if you were in a particularly good mood, you liked to sit on the sofa as you watched it. At least you weren't in a bad mood, he thought. At least there was that, and as he sat down beside you, he was pleasantly surprised that you leaned into him so keenly, grumbling softly as you pressed the side of your face against his arm and shifted around so that you weren't awkwardly bent over.

Loki found himself relaxing a little, his eyes slowly shutting as he let out a little yawn and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankle as he let you hold his hand tightly; he wanted to ask, he wanted to ask what had happened, what they had said and what you had said. He wanted to interrogate you, but when he realised that that's what he wanted, he shook his head, and cleared his throat. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you nodded, smiling. "I don't know why I bothered, but hey, at least I got a free meal of it so it's not all that bad, really."

That wasn't what Loki was expecting in the slightest, his jaw clenching as he got a little more tense, brows furrowed as he frowned and uncrossed his ankles, shifting a little so that he was sat upright. "What do you mean you don't know why you bothered?"

"It's just..." you shrugged. "I mean, yeah, I wasn't a perfect boyfriend - but they kept saying the same fucking accusations."

"Which are?"

"That me and you are somehow a thing," you scoffed, but something in your voice told him that you weren't joking. "I mean, yeah, alright... you're hot, and you mean a lot to me, and sometimes I do wish I was your boyfriend... but we're not a thing, are we?"

He fell silent. Sure, he had wished time and time again that you were his, his boyfriend, his partner, he wished it would happen more times than he could or wanted to count, but he knew that it wouldn't work; Loki had hardly enough time to spend with you as it was, thanks to work constantly on his back about everything and anything, and he didn't want you to feel as if you were being neglected because of him. He didn't want to make you feel that way. Never. Not you. Loki could fucking abandon and neglect everyone else in his life, but not you. Not the best friend who he had come to realise that he had other feelings for.

He swallowed thickly. You called him hot. You found him attractive. He scratched the side of his nose. You said he meant a lot to you. You wished you were his boyfriend. You wanted to be his as much as he wanted to be yours. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe he wouldn't neglect and abandon you as much as he feared he would, maybe he wasn't going to hurt you and maybe he wasn't going to make you upset. Maybe things would be okay in the end after all. Maybe.

"Do you mean that?"

"Yeah," you breathed out. "Loki, for fuck's sake, I love you! You're my best friend, and I... I love you as my best friend, and always will, but I also love you... the other way. And I'd wanna give it a go."

"What if I hurt you?" He asked. "You know I don't have a lot of time to spare as it is."

"Then hurt me," you told him. "Hurt me as badly as you can. I'm a big boy, I can take it."

"It could ruin our friendship."

You moved to sit upright, glaring at him as you huffed and shook your head, daring to laugh softly. "Loki... nothing could ruin that - unless you tell me you suddenly hate Train to Busan, in which case, I'm not only disowning and abandoning you, I'm also gonna bully you."

Loki couldn't stop the laugh that escaped him at that, shaking his head fondly. "I love that film."

"So..." you cleared your throat. "Your day off is tomorrow - wanna go to the café for a date?"

"I'd rather stay here," Loki explained, "and I'd rather watch Train to Busan with you."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

[drifloonz]

hmm.. do you have any favourite Pokémon/Poképasta characters? If so, what do you like about them? Or.. if you could make your own Poképasta character, what would their concept or design be? Or name in general, you don’t have to do a fully fleshed out backstory for them. Orrr, what’s your favourite thing about being on the internet or being in a fandom?

i... to no ones surprise, reaaally like steven. glitchys up there, but i think his og pokepasta sort of sucks ( which is not an unpopular opinion ), but strangled red ( specifically strangled red, strangled and doors open are... neat, but sort of badly written and way more stereotypical ) is just... mwah. chefs kiss. stories about grief and abt a depressive spiral that gets worse and worse AND you get to see how he was like before it? soo good. you can argue the missingno plotline in it was unnecessary which i could agree but i think its just cool more than anything else, esp since most pokepastas based on gen 1 use it or other glitches in the 1st gens for horror a lot, which i think is interesting. missingno can be many things!

i like to think logically that glitches and stuff in game prob exist in the pokemon universe as well, since... well.. pokemon can be turned into data. you put them into the pc. missingno likely just exists and is a heavily corrupted pokemon that is not supposed to be there, or a glitch that the pc or something made real.

therefore, miki probably was "healed" because missingno "filled" her "missing data" or something like that, but i like to keep it more vague and ambiguous too. you can do a lot with strangled red and steven, miki, and mike too which just intrigues me. once again read lessons in guilt and grief and faulty on ao3. they explore this and steven, mike, ( and daisy who doesnt get enough attention ) in a way i 100% agree with and enjoy .

as for other characters i obviously enjoy glitchy but i much more enjoy the like... post-fnflull version of him cuz' in his original popularity he was just sort of prettyboy red who was also a creepypasta but ppl barely drew him like he was one ( i like fnf lulls interp bc of how his body constantly stutters and how when hes irate his mouth just stretches and shit like that. gmod ragdoll with broken physics ass mf ). also as said before his pokepastas sort of forgettable but i do like the concept of a red stuck in a game self aware bc im allll for that shit. i am an IHNMBIMS fan, i love AM, i love self aware AIs that feel trapped and take it out on every1 else or cope with it in Some Way... very interesting concept, idk.

honorable mentions for pokepastas that ppl prob know that i do not talk abt a lot that i like the writing or concepts for are DISABLED and Hell Bell.

hell bell you could argue has a stereotypical 'pasta ending of "ooooh you die in the game you die for real" but idk i eat up the way they did it in hell bell bc the person doesnt die but they sort of do since nobody can see em anymore ( iirc, i hvent read it in a bit ). also uses gen 4 which as someone who started mainline games with diamond and pearl respectively, i enjoy that a lot.

for DISABLED, its not super deep or scary or anything ( ok well its scary for the narrator obviously ) but its another one that just sorta makes me feel bad in all the right ways.

i have concepts for pokepasta aus of my ocs and some side characters but they arent pokepastas theyre just like... ppl who live in the world ( of fnf lull usually since i like to think everything there is connected and coexists somehow ), but i am not original to save my life so i dont think id make an actual pokepasta anytime soon, lol. the closest i got was making a super horrible choose your own adventure where you played as a cubone on deviantart when i was like idk 9

as for internet and fandom stuff, i dont associate myself w fandoms or fandom terminology and unironically i just start to call myself an "enjoyer" of things, bc i dont like being associated w anything... fandom oriented a lot of the time anymore. a lot of fanonization of characters also sucks. i do think the pokepasta fandom has some funny fanonizations though. like yes dilfify that man ( @ steven )

also esp for pokepastas bc i have Hyperfixation Shame. its why i have a sideblog for it, both so it has a concentrated place to go and so no one knows i like it enough to write abt it lol

thank u 4 asking :]!

[but-the-library-of-alexandria]

related to a post I can't currently reblog bc moots are listening to tma for the first time and it has major spoilers lol, but on the subject of the misconception of jon being the pragmatist and martin being the romantic when it's actually pretty explicitly the other way around

I think for the most part this stems from a combination of a) associating optimism with romanticism and pessimism with pragmatism when in reality positivity is way more pragmatic than wallowing in despair, b) falling into the trap of believing the outer personas they both portray in earlier seasons, and possibly c) simply believing that a poet and an academic must be that way around lol

But also (and this is kind of silly and a stretch lol) I wonder if it's a slight cultural difference in what Tea represents in American vs British culture

If you're a brit and you've ever been in a rough situation with a group of people, you will discover who the pragmatist of the group is, and that's the person making the tea. any time there's bad news, the most down to earth person in the room is making tea while everyone grieves

and I'm not saying Americans don't consider tea to be a good thing to give to upset people, but I do think there's a certain association with tea (as opposed to coffee) as a bit more of a... hippy drink? a kind of herbal concoction given to you by a woman in a boho kimono who believes in manifestation, or your grandma who doesn't like technology - its kind of a romantic drink in a way, made of petals and leaves and supposed to have a calming effect

whereas in the UK it's not an exaggeration to say it's a staple - it's ubiquitous and kind of considered a necessity rather than a treat. it's a part of the usual daily routine. the person making the tea is the person keeping everyone fed and keeping up the normal flow of daily tasks. the fact that people will need tea, and that that's a need you can take care of, is sort of similar to being the friend who always has water and painkillers in your bag for when other people need it. it's a way of being there for people and coping in a crisis that's deeply practical and (in some people's cases, myself included lol) kind of a way of coping that deliberately AVOIDS the drama and philosophy of it all. despite being the guy who always wants everyone to talk about their feelings, it is also pointed out several times that one of martin's flaws in the early seasons is that he just tries to get on with things and hopes everything will get back to normal again, instead of rightfully raging against the institute machine (and how is that expressed? by people - and himself - complaining that all he does is make tea!)

honestly there's parallels to be drawn between him and basira, who we all accept is knuckling down and leaning into pragmatism while the others (including jon) are wallowing in the whys and what-ifs of it all. in fact the relationship between daisy and basira is a good comparison - daisy is often arguing that she's the pragmatist and basira is the bleeding heart bc she's more willing to kill, but daisy's killing is more and more clearly a matter of philosophy and beliefs while basira's gentler approach makes more practical sense

This turned into a way longer ramble than I thought it would lol but anyway something something orestes and pylades rotten work

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Little Town, It's a Shifter Village

I'm not sure what it is about old New England towns that literally predate the US, but they're often where tbe weird stuff happens. In the case of Virtue--a little town in upstate New York--the weird stuff is that it's a shifter sanctuary, which makes the town even more insular and uncommunicative with the rest if the world than even somewhere like Stars Hollow. Most people stay in Virtue their whole lives...but Zane Bellamy didn't. He had to come back to Virtue to meet his fated mate. Let's talk Wear Wolf.

This is your SPOILER WARNING, people. There are SPOILERS below the break.

The circumstances of a meet cute can range wildly, from a random happenstance coffee shop meet to something absolutely improbable like getting kidnapped by pirates. Somehow, Zane and Victoria manage to meet under just the wildest circumstances. Victoria is a long-term substitute teacher who has a year-long contract in Virtue. Her students talk her into entering a contest for a custom coture dress, and her win brings Zane back to his hometown. But that's just the SETUP for the meet cute. The actual meet cute is Victoria goig headfirst out a bathroom window to avoid the press (literally cannot blame her for that one) and Zane diving underneath her so she doesn't break her neck on the concrete. It's actually super cute and awkward.

And of course thats where the fated mate bond clicks in for Zane. The interesting twist, however, is that Zane has face blindness-- or prosopagnosia, for those of you wanting the SAT word. Zane doesn't see and click.with faces, so it more or less doesn't matter what Victoria looks like. What he does see though, is fashion. Partly because Zane is a world-famous designer, and partly because it's how he copes with and manages the ace blindness. So it takes him less than a second to clock Victoria's "everyday cosplay," which was honestly delightful in the context of their first spicy scene and jut a lovely little marriage of character quirks. It's not a secret that shifter romances--and particularly those shifter romances written under the Zoe Chant name--are meant to be sweet, fluffy, cozy, and spicy, without too terribly much in the way of depth. But even with those genre expectations, Murphy Lawless manages to do small, clever character things like this that give me just a little bit more to hold onto.

Like, yes of COURSE the fashion designer is going to clock the first grade teacher's subtle-enough-to-pass-muster-at-an-elementary-school sexy secretary and sexy librarian cosplays. And yes of course nobody else in said first-grade teacher's life is going to notice because humanity at large is bad at nuance (and also, let's be real: the US in particular would absolutely crucify [loaded word choice is intentional] any teacher for something like that if it wasn't kept 100000000% private). So to have these two beautifully complimentary character traits mesh just reinforces the fated mates thing and goes a long way towards feeling like yes, actually, even if there wasn't a shifter and a fated mate involved, these two characters have a reason they would work well together.

The other really lovely thing that this book does that I don't think I've seen in shifter romances before is that it codifies LGBTQIA fated mates. Dion and Aaron aren't a main couple by any stretch of the imagination, but they're there, they're gay, and they are absolutely adorable fated mates. Now we just need a book where the LGBTQIA couple is the main couple. I'm...fairly sure these exist and I just haven't found them yet? I hope these exist?

Overall, this was a delightful read, and I was over here kicking my feet and screeching "WHAT" at the book when the paparazzi pictures of Zane and a younger woman popped up. I think I literally yelled "THERE IS NOT ENOUGH BOOK LEFT FOR THIS" but it turned out there was, and it was adorable. I highly recommend Murphy Lawless (both as Lawless and as Zoe Chant) if you need a cozy shifter romance read.

[thiscouldbesomethingreal]

A rush of many lingering thoughts tonight.

What do you do - how do you cope when you don’t identify with the current state of your body.

I’m still a 20 something who loves to swim and run. Could swim a 7 thousand yard practice and then run a 5k back to back. I don’t know who this old person is. Doesn’t really fit in the swim suit even though it’s all stretched out. Her legs are soft from losing muscle tone, her stomach sticks out. She swims so slow. Her body hurts. She barely makes 3k before her body tells her “we’re done now”. I don’t know who this girl is. Why is she sore after not even doing anything that hard.

Why is it so hard to even get to the pool in the first place? Work around the depression to even make the decision to swim, arrange for childcare, drive to the pool, swim for 70 minutes. Definitely shower there because God knows she won’t shower once she’s back on mom duty. Also, don’t forget to feel bad about being out for so long if childcare that day is your husband.

Whoever came up with the idea of work/life balance never considered that work continues when you get home. There is such an incredibly little amount of time you actually get to taking care of yourself.

Whoever said “sleep when the baby sleeps” must not have had a house to manage. Or literally pulled over on the highway when noticing their child is asleep in the car seat.

And I could really do without the snarky “well this is what you wanted” when I dare to talk about how damn hard motherhood is. While it is the greatest thing I’ll ever have in my life, it comes with so many other issues I was ill prepared for. Yes I love it. Yes I love her. But yes this is so damn hard and sometimes I need that validation too. That you also feel it’s hard. That I’m not the only mom who feels like a failure, or doesn’t love her kid the right way, or is a bad mom for needing space and walking away when she’s overwhelmed and overstimulated.

All of this is to say - I miss the old me. I know she’s never coming back. I’d never trade away being a mom. But I’d love to spend some time with myself when it isn’t the middle of the night. I’d love for it to feel like I’m not asking too much to get out of the house to do things for me. Or even to spend time within the house, on my own, and not feeling like I should be with my child.

[theghostus]

Hey, you...

It's been 6 months since my last update. Fuck.

Since then, I've had 2 jobs. Both are full-time, yet something in them didn't click for me.

My first job was at a physio clinic. I thought, well, during the interview, the Head of Operations summarised the job involved simple 4 things. I was like, cool, it was something I could do. Just do the damn job and go home. Turns out, it needs a lot of my peopling skills. Juggling to do the daily job (talking and scheduling appt based on the treatment plan given), the needing to follow up with clients (and no-show ones) to the daily closing. Not including the therapists' different personalities. The daily meetings (omg). At the end of the day, I was emotionally exhausted. I was stretching myself thin. When I was hired, there were 3 of us. One by one, quit due to reasons, including yours truly. The management assured me they would be hiring more, but I couldn't see myself doing the same thing repeatedly without completing the tasks set out the day before. I don't know what this is. I supposed it's the perfectionist in me, or I'm just nuts.

For the next job, I succumbed to desperation. I agreed blindly, which I came to regret tremendously. The first day was suspiciously relaxed. After all, it's the first day. Lots of writing in my notebook (god damn, y'all don't know how many notebooks I've gone through) and taking the lead from my senior. The second day was a little more hectic but still able to cope with my senior help. Third to the Fourth day, she was on MC. That's when things took a dive. The other admin (seniors) started to push coz they saw me doing nothing. Like, duh, my senior taught me for 2 days; how would I know what I was supposed to do. Oh oh...I forget to tell you. They actually keep track of what tasks admins do. I mean for every 15 min interval. Made me key in all the tasks I had done for the day. Honestly, on the first day, I realised this job was not for me, but I still gave the job a chance. Maybe just maybe, this is just a fluke, you know. Like the day I came in happened to be a busy day. Nope, I was wrong. I was hired as a receptionist with a 45min lunch. Wow. I had to take the mail daily during my lunch. You know why, so the person covering me can update me if anything comes (courier, incoming docs) during lunchtime. Cool. I thought Chinatown was bad...fucking hell, the area was worse. Only 1 Malay food (okay, okay, I'm not exactly practising Muslim, but still, if I'm going eat the Indian food there, it's going dig into my savings) and 7-11 for lunch. Plus, I need my daily cig input. Already I was sucking 4 sticks a day. Sigh. Still, I preserved, hoping I could get through the week. On the fourth day, the senior admin lead gave me a 2hr one to one tutor. So I'm expected to understand and master MYOB in 3-4 days. Well, she didn't need to. She said since she was free, she could. Her time, her call. Each day, I found it hard to complete the timesheet as I didn't meet the 8.75 hrs.

So the Fifth day came, and my senior was still on leave. The lead senior (asst to manager *eye roll*) had expectations that I to be an outgoing person, which I never was when we first met. I know I'm supposed to fake until I make it, but I can no longer do that. Maybe because I have nothing that drives me like before (the evil house). Yes, I'm an anxious empath. I guess that's the problem. I have always found it hard to approach people. I always try to read their body language and expressions. Well, back to the bitch. She got frustrated because I didn't ask the accounts for their dustbins. After all, they always do their housekeeping (vacuuming, throwing the rubbish in the baskets) on Fridays. I mean, 1 team were out for a meeting, so I was supposed to tell them about the throwing the rubbish thing. However, when I thought my other colleague (let's call her Shorty) had informed them, I mean, let's divide and conquer for the 1st week, right? Nope. Strike 1. That's not what the bitch wants me to do. "When I told you to tell/ask/check them for their waste basket, I don't need to tell you how to do right?" So I went to tell/ask/check the rest of the office and collect the rest of them. By then, I had already gone down with Shorty to the bin and returned. "You have to tell/ask/check coz they're busy with work. Now you have to go down again!" Strike 2. After everything has settled, my manager asks to see her. She discussed with me how my week was going. Obviously, I got complained, yet she said I 'observed'. She said all the BS that I knew was coming. I lied again about the difficulties I had. Then she mentioned I opened the wrong client mail and 'explained' the importance of checking and making sure. I truly believed that I was right. Till I check again, to my horror. I opened the wrong mail. Strike 3. I had to cover my tracks. I notice one of the mail is missing. I assumed that's how she knew. I told myself to fuck it. I don't care about the job anymore. I was so mad at myself and everyone I left without switching off the lights and the mail on the table. When I reached the train station, my conscience didn't allow me to board. Thankfully I had not tapped in. I turned around and walked back 10mins. Grabbed the mail, walked 10 mins to the mailbox, and boarded the train. It was the only right thing I had to do when I served my notice on Monday.

Both jobs, of course, the hirer was shocked. I didn't give a damn about what they thought. As usual, I lied; otherwise, they would want to rectify what went wrong. At least at the clinic, I had a few folks chat with me, not about the job. I was super miserable at the accounting firm. I know I said I don't need anyone. Besides but no one went to lunch at the same time as me except the bitch and shorty. The first day, the bitch offered to have lunch together my brain wanted to say yes, but my mouth said no. Good thing I didn't.

So now I'm still unemployed.

It's 3 days till Xmas. One week till 2023.

3 months till my 40th.

Sigh.

I still have this MOE interview pending next year. That's my last full-time interview. After this, I'm done.

I'm just looking for temp jobs...I can't handle the pressure of expectations and being around people. Gonna look for WFH job if I can find one. At least it saves me the transport and lunch money.

Sigh.

2023. Please be kind.

21/12/22

[ssaalexblake]

the reactions to 13′s Terrible mental health are kind of. Wild. In some places. She is in the middle of a breakdown in s12, she is refusing to talk, which is her right, but it’s also not good for her either at all and is actively contributing to her still deteriorating mental situation, simply because the isolation she’s Actively angry at the whole season is something she has enforced and caused by her own bad coping mechanisms. 

Her in general anger at her own isolation and being misunderstood by the fam is actively used by her at times to be angry at the fam when She’s the one enforcing it, which is Definitely a line crossed.  It is okay to not be okay, but even when you’re not okay you don’t get to do stuff like that (lbr, they’ll never get an apology for baring any of the storm of her moods in s12). 

She’s also not got the spoons to really deal with anybody else’s problems (she can do Epic Hero Saves, but that’s her form of escape, that’s not mentally taxing to her, but she doesn’t have it in her to offer much in any way of mental support),  she’s too wrapped up in her own problems that she lacks constructive ways to process and deal with, let alone anybody else’s. Again, fair, not to be condemned. 

She just. Doesn’t Know how to deal with her problems. And not all of her reactions and actions in s12 were okay, at all. Most of it was unhealthy, which is one thing and a lot of what she gets condemned for is Not fair or okay, but on the flip side, her behavior was, actually, sometimes unacceptable and to say she’s completely innocent and some weird uwu thing is just as poor of a take as the complete condemnation. 

I’m just in general frustrated, she needed help dealing with her trauma, saying that is not bad? She was clearly making her own situation even Worse by her own actions, simply because she lacked the skills to process it. That’s not a thing to condemn her for, but also, ‘she should just work it out herself’ as a take imo has an edge of genuine cruelty to it because like... She’s not going to because as established, she lacked the tools to do so. It is basically the ‘sit and watch somebody suffer’ route. She deserves support. Wanting somebody to give her tools to heal or just in general survive is not controlling or out of line, it’s compassion. 

She is traumatized, unable to heal herself, unwilling to let the fam in but Also taking it out on people around her. Trauma and mental illness is not a free pass to treat people as poorly as you wish. Ever. She may have a good reason for acting as she does, and i could write out a long essay on her reactions and how they make sense for the character, but that’s not an excuse, merely a reason, she should not have treated people around her badly, full stop (like, even the lousy people. She tore Strips out of Kane even Before she knew exactly what she’d done, it was not a logical condemnation of character, she wanted somebody to treat that way and she found one, it was just coincidence she’d zeroed in on a Genuinely shitty person). 

tldr? totally condemning her for her behaviour in s12 is unfair, but not holding her accountable for her own poor behaviour due to trauma is also not right, she Did behave poorly. Wanting her to have help healing is not shitty, it’s basically what the fam were trying to do and i’m very tired of them being condemned for how Well they handled all of this despite their enforced ignorance. Nobody could have Forced her to get help, but the sentiment that people would wish she’d have some is compassionate, not cruel or an attempt at controlling her against her wishes. She was suffering and a big part of that was through her own poor coping mechanisms, wanting that fixed so she’d Not suffer or make the people around her suffer either is merely a compassionate wish, not an effort to Force her be a better person or something?????

Sometimes it just sucks to watch people suffer, and you watch, even when it’s on a tv show, and wish they’d get help so they wouldn’t continue to. See; ‘Can You Hear Me?’. 

[dawnagustd]

unconditionally || kth

➼ title: unconditionally ➼ pairing: ex-husband!taehyung x female reader ➼ genre: angst | fluff | hurt/comfort | smut | divorce au | exes to lovers au | parents au ➼ summary: A mother’s love is unconditional, and they deserves just as much. They aren’t always perfect in the other’s eyes, but to some people—mom is as close to perfect as you can get. Everyone makes mistakes, we’re human. ➼ word count: 10k ➼ warnings: mentions divorce & failed marriage | mentions accidents and DUIs vaguely | mentions battles with alcohol abuse & addiction | depression and sadness | mentions custody arrangements and losing custody of children | mentions pregnancy | mentions mild panic attack | mentions toxic relationships | unhealthy coping mechanisms | mentions relapsing | some arguing | mentions reckless driving | insecurities | mentions cheating/infidelity but none of this actually happens | reader is self-conscious about her stretch marks | explicit sexual content | unprotected sex | soft dom!taehyung | sub!reader | light erotic humiliation | squirting | spanking | restraints/wrist pinning | oral (female receiving) | body worshiping | orgasm denial/control | slight mutual & guided masturbation | light pussy slapping | biting & marking | fingering | make-up sex | dirty talk | passionate sex | crying | nipple/breast play | multiple orgasms | choking/breath play | cum shots | apology sex | aftercare & pillow talk | crying (the good, the bad, and the ugly kind) | hopeful ending ➼ rating: 18+

➼ a/n: Hi loves! So I wanted to drop off this piece before I left. it’s not the usual stuff I post but it’s something I’ve had on my chest for a while. I’ve been a bit down because of mom guilt and other things—having to work, go to school, and now leave the kiddo for 2 weeks. I just feel really horrible for always being so busy but it’s all for our future and it’s finally about to pay off. Her dad told me I shouldn’t be so hard on myself and to try to get it off my shoulder so that’s how I started writing this. No planning, no outline, just me typing and trying to get myself in a better place mentally. It worked…I cried but I feel so much better. I want to give a special thanks to Isi @raplinesmoon​ for not only beta reading this story for me but for being so supportive and leaving such kind notes. I really appreciate you and thank you so much. 

Playlist: Human by Christina Perri | When We Were Young by Adele | Leave the Door Open by Silk Sonic | Mockingbird by Eminem | Stay In Love by Mariah Carey | Hello by Adele | Don’t Forget About Us by Mariah Carey

Read on AO3

“Congratulations, babe. You’ve done it, and I am so so proud of you!”

Your older sister Kaylin showers you with ropes of streamers, not caring if any gets in your hair. She tosses the empty contents behind her and immediately pulls you in for an embrace. What usually is an annoying feeling becomes a joyous one because she’s absolutely right. You did it.

After all those classes and court appearances, two years of sobriety, you’ve finally crawled out of the hole of self destruction you managed to dig yourself. And it’s been a long time coming. 

You remember the day everything went downhill. You and your ex were fighting, like you had always done. Both of you were young when you married, but you thought you had it all figured out. No one told you how rough marriage can be, and neither of you were prepared for the stress of raising two children within a home that already had enough problems.

You had an addiction and Taehyung was a workaholic. Fighting and arguing was a norm during your ten years of marriage, and no matter what you did to fix it—therapy, vacations, babies. Nothing could mend the damage that had already been done. Your biggest regret was bringing your children right into the eye of the storm. They were really young at the time, but they saw and heard it all.

None of this is fair to them, and you’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. Things may be over between you and their father, but you still want to somehow remain a family. You were never ready to be a mother, however you love your children more than anything, and you miss them so much.

Losing custody was the hardest blow you ever took, and in the beginning, you almost gave up. If Kaylin wasn’t there to help you through it, you’d still be sleeping on a blowup mattress in her one bedroom apartment. She pushed you to get up, pull yourself together and handle your legal business, find a job, and ultimately move on with the divorce from Taehyung so you both could move forward.

That was two years ago, and the court had ordered that your visitation with the children be supervised by their grandparents due to the nature of your car accident. No other person was injured or involved, but a criminal record isn’t a good look for a mother of two. The judge ruled, and he ruled hard. However, you didn’t argue or complain. You knew it was your fault entirely, and you deserve the punishment you received and some. But you’ve paid your debts to society and now it’s time to get back on track. Though, that is easier said than done.

“I owe it all to you, big sis. I owe you everything,” you admit with the utmost gratitude. In a way, Kaylin saved your life, and if the opportunity to repay her ever presented itself, you’d jump on it immediately.

Your sister withdraws and looks at you with her hands still resting on your shoulders.

“You owe me absolutely nothing, but a glimpse of that beautiful smile of yours. This is a huge day for you; I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. It’s just—”

“You’re nervous?” she intervenes.

You nod and she gives you a sympathetic look. “Aww, sweetie. Everything’s going to be okay. Trust me, once they get to your place, they’ll be so thrilled. They’ll finally have some alone time with mommy and it’ll be one big girls’ night. You just watch and see.”

She’s always been the cheerful one, and you are so fond of that trait. Your mom was like that and you always thought deep down, she was supposed to be the one who got married and had kids. She’d be a perfect mom and wife, unlike you—a screw up in its truest form.

“I sure hope you’re right, Kay,” you sigh. 

Your sister’s eyes soften and she gives your arm a gentle squeeze. “Aren’t I always?”

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes when she touches your nose, still treating you like she did when you were kids. “We should probably sit over there so he can see us when they–ooph!”

As you’re walking down the park’s trail to the main entrance, someone accidentally bumps into you and makes you drop your phone. The man quickly bends down to pick it up and place it in your hand, apologizing repeatedly for not paying attention. When your eyes reach his face, you’re blown away by how handsome he is, and how his smile and skin seems to radiate a certain glow.

“Hey,” he breathes, staring back at you with the same awestruck gaze.

“H…Hi.”

Seconds pass before he clears his throat and straightens his posture. 

“Sorry, where are my manners? I’m Scott,” the stranger holds out his hand and you look at it hesitantly for a moment, “...or not.”

You blink a few times, realizing you’re being rude. You take his hand before he retracts then you introduce yourself while fighting through a bit of embarrassment.

“I’m, _____. So nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he states, focus drifting towards the left. You realize your sister’s still standing there and you quickly involve her in the conversation.

“Oh, this is my sister, Kaylin. Kaylin, Scott.”

“What a pleasure,” she winks. You slap her arm, and the man tries his best to stifle a laugh.

“Anyway, I have to get going to meet some friends. It was nice meeting you both, and I’m so sorry about bumping into you.”

You wave it off. “It’s fine. I wasn’t paying attention either, and my phone is scratch-free.”

“Well, that’s awesome. I’ll see you around then?”

“Oh, I’m just here to meet—”

“She will, Scott. I’ll make sure of it,” your sister interrupts yet again.

You look at her with your mouth open. Scott leaves you with an optimistic grin, and as soon as he’s out of sight you turn to your sister. “I cannot believe you sometimes.”

She huffs. “Girl, it will not kill you to have some fun. You’re still young, beautiful…sexy.”

“Shut up, will you?”

“I’m serious. Listen, at some point you’re going to have to get back out there. Today could have been a start. Even if it was just a little one-nighter, if you know what I mean.” 

Your sister’s eyebrows wiggle, and she does that little annoying thing she does with her shoulders every time she’s trying to make her point seem plausible. However, dating is the last thing on your mind right now.

“Yeah, I’m just not sure all of that is for me anymore,” you reply, lowering your head, and trying to erase the negative thoughts from your mind.

“Hey,” she touches your arm, prompting you to look her way, “You move at your own pace, okay? But don’t count yourself out just because you have some battle scars. There are people out there who will accept you for who you are, and love you regardless of such.”

You nod in agreement with her and continue your journey to the main entrance, looking at your phone to check the time.

“Heard from him yet?”

“Yeah, he should be pulling up any minute now,” you answer, still looking at your screen.

“Well, I think he’s here.”

“How do you know–ohh.” A large black SUV drives into the parking lot and finds a space towards the rear. Your breath gets caught in your throat when your ex climbs out of the driver seat, taking off his suit jacket and tossing inside before he shuts the door. He opens the back side door, and helps your two children out.

They jump around wanting to go to the playground but Taehyung just looks around while rolling up his sleeves. There’s not a brown hair out of place, and his designer clothing makes him look like he just stepped out of a magazine. His dark shades shield his vision from the sun, but you can still feel his piercing stare when his focus finally zooms in on you. Your knees buckle and you become lightheaded within seconds.

“Or maybe you should call your ex for a booty call every once in a while,” your sister comments, making you snap out of it.

“Kaylin.”

“Hey, I’m just saying, you two are on good terms and you’re single…you could just—”

“No! Absolutely not. Kay, please don’t make this awkward. I’m already shaking,” you plead.

“Alright. I was just kidding.” You sigh in relief and your sister smirks before she turns to watch Taehyung and the kids make their way towards you. “Mostly.”

“You bitc…Hi kiddos!!”

Just seeing your babies after a week apart has you dropping to your knees to hold them close. They wrap their little arms around you and you spend the moment taking in everything about them—their voices, their smells, how much they’ve changed since the last time you saw them. It’s almost an overwhelming feeling knowing that this visitation isn’t going to end with them leaving so soon. You’ll have them for the whole weekend, and it’s the best Mother’s Day gift you can ask for.

“Where’s grandma and grandpa?” Khloe asks straight away.

“Well, they’re at home. We’re going to go see them on Sunday,” you answer, smoothing some of her hair back into its ponytail.

“So we’re gonna see you twice this weekend?” Jade quips with excitement. However, her features fall slightly when you shake your head.

“Actually…you’re going to be spending the weekend with me.”

The girls look at each other, confusion etched over their faces. The youngest, Jade, is the first to speak. “Is daddy coming too?”

You look up at Taehyung who’s pushed his glasses up on his head, combing some of his bangs away from his face in the process. Thankfully, he helps you out and explains your new arrangements to the girls.

“Your mom wants to have a girls’ night,” he leans in and pretends to deliver top secret information, “No boys allowed so, I gotta bounce.”

“But dad…”

“Khloe, remember if you wanna start having sleepovers with friends, you’re going to have to show me how responsible you are. Your mom throws the best sleepovers so she can teach you a ton of cool stuff,” he reminds her, giving you a wink when she isn’t looking.

You silently thank him then turn your attention back to the girls.

“So, y’all ready to have some fun?” 

You try to sound cheerful and excited, but your fear and nervousness seeps right through and tears down your façade. Both Taehyung and Kaylin look at you with pity, but stay silent and allow you to reclaim your role in their lives. You have to start somewhere is what you keep telling yourself.

“Okay, mommy,” they both reply in unison and you release a much needed breath.

You rise to your feet and nod at your sister, signaling her to get the car ready while you go over last minute details with Taehyung. “Alright, let’s go get your things, shall we?”

“Okay, who wants pizza?!”

With a lineup of movies ready to go and two boxes of pepperoni pizza ordered, your mommy-daughter sleepover has officially begun. It started off rocky with a few moments of awkwardness and a forgetting that Jade likes her bath filled with her favorite toys, you finally manage to get your kids settled on the couch without any complaints from them. You just hope you can keep it that way.

“Ew, pizza is gross. Dad makes us lasagna on Fridays,” Khloe whines.

“Yeah, we want lasagna, mommy,” says Jade as she rubs her tummy.

You look between the two girls back and forth with your mouth slightly ajar. “We just had pizza two weeks ago from this place, and you said it was your fav.”

Your brain replays the day you met them at the pizzeria downtown vividly. They were begging their grandparents to bring them back. You thought for sure this would bring smiles on their faces.

“I mean don’t you wanna try a piece? It’s your fav—”

“Can’t you make us lasagna  like daddy? Khloe whines with Jade being her echo.

You look towards your next to empty kitchen and lower your head in shame. Even if you had all the ingredients, you still couldn’t cook something like that. You don’t have the skill.

“No, sweetheart. Mommy, can’t make that.”

They both let out defeated sighs and sink into the couch. “Well, how about I order you something else, or maybe I can make something else?”

They both look at each other and then back to you. Khloe is the only one to speak.

“It’s okay, mom—”

“Can we go home?” Jade blurts out, putting a sinking feeling into your stomach.

It’s no secret that the girls live with Taehyung and that he has full custody despite the new schedule, but hearing your child refer to somewhere other than with you home, hurts you so deeply you have to take a step back.

Her older sister slaps her arm and she winces. “Shut up, Jade.”

You tell her not to hit her sister and turn to set the pizza boxes on the coffee table so you can secretly push back your tears. You return with a brave face, and a smile even you find believable. You’ve been waiting for this moment for two long years, but you will not force it. Even if you have to wait two more, you will if that makes them comfortable.

“Do you want me to take you back to your dad’s?”

They both hesitate, but nod timidly. 

“No worries, let me grab your things and then we’ll hit the road, okay?”

They cheer and dance around, finally being happy for the first time since they left the park. You leave them to do their victory dance and make your way down the hall to get their bags. Slowly, your hands begin to shake because there’s just one little issue about taking them home. You haven’t driven at night since the accident, and it’s always been because you’ve had a fear of doing so. However, calling Taehyung would probably make him a little upset since Khloe broke her promise and you know how it affects her when she disappoints him. You’ll just toughen up and come up with something to let them off the hook while you’re on the way across town. And hopefully, you’ll make it back here without breaking down. You just hope that one day you can become the mother they deserve.

With the girls secured in the backseat, you start your car and take a deep breath. It hasn’t rained in about a week, but tonight it’s storming. It’s pouring down so hard the droplets rock your tiny sedan. Your mind can only replay the screeching sounds of your tires as you tried to slow down that night two years ago. The flash you saw right before slamming into the tree is still a vivid memory you hold onto. It haunts you, terrifies you so much that you want nothing more than to run inside rather than reenact the tale. However, one look at your daughters’ optimistic gazes into the stormy night with the excitement of seeing their father dancing in their smiles, you know that they’re just as thrilled as you were upon their arrival at the park—and you’d never rob them of that.

“Are we ready to go?” you turn and ask the girls. They both cheer and nod their heads, leading you to respond with a nervous smile. Your shake hand puts the car in drive but forget to put on the wipers so you make a haste to reach for the lever.

The blades startle you immediately, causing you to shriek and cover your ears before you realize it’s just the wipers. The girls giggle, thinking it’s a joke or that their mom is just afraid of window wipers, but they have no idea of the level of fear coursing through your body.

You tremble as you get yourself together, and eventually after several deep breaths, you’re able to pull out of your driveway into the slippery streets, praying you get your babies across town safely. Taehyung’s place is about a 20 minute drive, and you’ll spend every minute of it trying to ignore the terror that’s trying to take control of your mind.

“Hey, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time. We’re outside, and I know I have key, but I didn’t want to barge in—”

“I’m on my way down,” Taehyung responds quickly, not hanging up until he swings open his front door. Concern is etched over his features, but Jade and Khloe swarm him before he can say anything.

“Daddy, we missed you!” Jade exclaims, squeezing him tightly with her little arms. Khloe is attached to his hip and he smooths her hair before turning back to you.

“Wha—”

“I’m sorry. I have really bad cramps and I just couldn’t keep up with them like this,” you quickly lie.

Taehyung’s lips hold so many questions and he’s prepared to ask them but Khloe interrupts him.

“Can you make lasagna, dad? I’m so hungry.” 

Her doe eyes look up at him innocently and he instantly melts, unable to say no to his oldest little girl. “Alright, but after dinner you both are going straight to bed.”

You smile. “I’ll go get their bags and then I’ll steal some kisses before I leave.”

“Wait, did you drive here yourself?” Taehyung questions before you can step out into the rain. You’re already drenched so it won’t really matter if you got rained on at this point. You just wished your shoes didn’t make these awful sounds when you walk.

“Yeah.” You turn around and find him shaking his head.

“We’ll get them in the morning. You have something in your purse right?” He points to your handbag that’s still clinging on your shoulder due to you forgetting to remove it in the car. 

“Huh?”

“You said you were…so I figured you had some emergency stuff in your bag.”

“Oh yeah,” you slap your forehead, scolding yourself for forgetting about your little lie that quickly, “I do, but—”

“Well, come inside and eat with us. You still have clothes here and you can take one of the spare rooms. You don’t need to be driving in that storm; it’s getting worse, and,” he steps a bit closer so he can whisper, “Kaylin told me how difficult it is for you to drive in these conditions, just consider staying for a moment at least. Please? For the girls?”

For the girls. That’s all it really took for you. Though you dread stepping through that door, the same one you walked out of right before you ruined everything, you’re filled with warmth knowing you’ll be having dinner with your daughters tonight after all. You’ll take what you can get, even if it pulls you back to the place you swore you’d never return to.

“Oh, alright. I guess I am a little hungry too,” you jest and Taehyung gives you a smirk.

“Well, right this way my ladies. The three of you may go and throw on your finest evening gowns and meet me in the dining area shortly.”

You and your daughters all giggle as you enter the dimly lit foyer, and he taps your shoulder before you can ascend the stairs.

“If you need me, I’m here. I know it’s not easy,” he speaks softly.

You nod. “Thanks, Taehyung. I know.”

It took a while to get to this point in your relationship, but you know even after years of turmoil and a divorce, you’re in a better place. You respect each other and you communicate exceptionally. If only you’d done this in the beginning, your marriage probably would have been a lot stronger and would have been able to withstand the rough patches you had. If only.

“Khloe, when you were a baby, you had these things called blow outs. Every time you did that, your dad would come to me screaming and saying he couldn’t do it. It was hilarious,” you say to the oldest of your pair. 

She buries her face in her arm and giggles at her father’s flushed face. Just recalling the memory of dirty diapers has the man shivering. But of course, he’s quick to counter.

Taehyung scoffs with a slight jerk of his head. “Touché. I remember the first time Jade puked in your face, you cried in the shower for almost an hour.”

“Did you really have to go there?” you whine playfully, looking at your daughters with a little pout. Jade gives you a hug and Khloe walks around to do the same and you poke your tongue out at Taehyung to claim your little victory. 

“Nope, I didn’t have to go there. But I know two little princesses that need to go get their rest, yeah?”

They both begin to move, but still complain.

“Okay, daddy,” they sigh in sync. The girls make their way to the stairs and Taehyung starts to clean up the dining table. You quickly get up from your seat to help him.

“I’ll tuck you in and stuff once I’m done in the kitchen,” he calls and you respectfully interject. 

“Taehyung, I can clean this up. I don’t mind.”

He declines. “No, no. I got it. Just sit and I’ll—”

“I insist, Taehyung…meaning let me do it or I’ll do it anyway.”

His shoulders drop and he shakes his head, a small smile rising to his cheeks.

“Why did I even try?”

“You should ask yourself that,” you reply.

Taehyung’s grin widens. “Maybe I just wanted you to get a little sassy.”

“Hey!” You throw an uneaten roll at him but he dodges it before it makes contact.

“You’re funny. I’m gonna shower and take off to bed after I get them settled. You need anything else?”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks, Taehyung,” you assure and continue with your task.

He nods. “Well…I guess I’ll see you in the morning then?”

“Yup.”

Out of your peripheral, you notice Taehyung’s mouth opens to say something, but he goes against it and walks away. “Night, ______.”

“You too, Taehyung.”

When everyone disappears and the room is filled with silence, you wonder how you’re going to sleep in this house that holds so much misery and heart ache. You’ll try to focus on the positives like being here with your daughters and maybe, just maybe—the demons of the past won’t bother you too much tonight.

You tried to sleep, you really did. But the longer you lay there tossing and turning, the more horrible memories of this home flood your mind. It all started after Taehyung’s promotion. He worked more and came home less. The man would rather spend the night at a hotel than come home to his wife. You didn’t mean to bicker or complain about never seeing him, but the change affected you more than he ever understood.

He thought you were just bored and wanted company, so he got you pregnant—twice. However, the girls only caused a bigger rift in your marriage, no matter how much you deny it. You were raising two children on your own with little help from Taehyung. Each time your six weeks were up, he’d be right back at work, leaving you alone to take care of the home.

You struggled to say the least. Something simple as making dinner brought you great difficulty. You could barely boil water, let alone make a meal for four. You felt like the world’s worst mother and wife. Nothing you did was right, and Taehyung made sure you knew that. He’d come home pissed and upset. The kids would be crying, the house would be a mess, and dinner would be late or unavailable. He always lost his shit when you said you’d get something delivered.

And you weren’t innocent either. You were sure to remind him of his long work hours and even accused him of seeing someone when you knew he’d never go there, but you were bitter and spiteful. You couldn’t help yourself. You had to fight fire with fire. Until the day Taehyung ceased your flame and hit below the belt.

Not only did he tell you were a horrible wife, but also a piss-poor mother. That’s when it all started. The stress, the striving for perfection, the drinking. It started off with a few glasses of wine at night and quickly progressed to something much stronger. You never did it when you were alone with the girls, only when Taehyung was home. That was the only way you could face him, stand toe to toe in your heated arguments without falling apart. It made you numb, it made you invincible. But even vodka couldn’t shield you from Taehyung’s rage. 

“You’re pathetic, and that bottle has dragged your sorry ass right out of our lives because I can’t do this shit anymore.”

You remember the way you nearly collapsed when he said those words. The only response you could give was to tell him to burn in hell to which he replied, “not before you,” and he almost got his wish. You left at that very moment, in the middle of a severe thunderstorm with nothing but your car keys and a bottle of vodka in tow. That was the night of the accident, the night you nearly lost your life.

After that day, everything changed. It was like the universe was telling you and Taehyung, life was too short, fix it or it’ll get fixed for you. Something clicked in you that never had before. You knew your marriage was over but you still had two beautiful children to raise. Taehyung wanted to pay for everything—your legal fees, your living expenses. He even wanted to pull some strings to make your punishment less severe. However, you declined. Whatever you got, you deserved and instead of feeling sorry for yourself, you got up and did your part in making it right. 

But being here again, for the first time in two years, brings back so much pain and hurt that getting any sleep seems impossible. You wonder how he does it. How he sleeps in this house every night after everything that’s happened. Taehyung’s always been the stronger one so you imagine it doesn’t phase him much. You do know he blames himself, however. He puts all the burden on his shoulders, and you wish he wouldn’t. You’re the fuck up, not him. In the end, you chose to pick up a bottle, and it ruined everything. You should have tried harder to be a better wife, a better mom, and a better person. Now you’re afraid it may be too late.

“Can’t sleep?”

You tear your gaze away from the moonlit sky, and turn to the familiar voice around you.

“Oh, I was uhh…grabbing a glass of water,” you avoid the question.

Taehyung nods as he slips his hands inside of his shorts, leaning against the kitchen counter. His hair is now in its natural wavy state, falling over his eyes and giving him that boyish look you fell in love with. He clears his throat and moves forward with small talk.

“Is there…something on your mind? You’ve been down here for a while.”

You shake your head. 

“No, I was just,” you turn towards the window and fix your eyes on the calm and gentle night sky, “...enjoying the view.”

You return your attention back to him and find him partly smiling with his eyes fixated on his fuzzy slippers. “Same here,” he whispers, barely audible.

“Oh, how long have you been standing here?”

You didn’t even notice his presence until he spoke to you.

“Not very long. Looks like the rain finally stopped, huh?” he comments. 

“Yeah, finally. I thought it never would.”

Taehyung looks up and stills, whatever he was planning on saying is forgotten in the moment. “You’ve been crying.”

Your fingertips touch your cheeks and feel the dried tear stains from earlier, but yet you still deny the accusation. 

You laugh. “I’m fine, just watery eyes.”

“Hm, okay.”

You quickly down the rest of your water and turn away from him, pretending to wash your hands in hopes that he’ll grow tired and return to bed, but Taehyung is always persistent. 

“I always forget how short you are.” He makes his way toward you and takes his place behind you with only a few inches to spare. He looks out of the window over your head and doesn’t move, making your hair raise due to his close proximity.

“Taehyung.”

“Hm?”

You face him and you have to take a deep breath before you speak. His eyes are barely visible underneath his bangs and thick lashes, but they still hold you captive with their fierceness. 

“I’ve already told you before. I’m not short, you’re just—”

“I’m not tall,” he interrupts.

“Tall-ish.”

Taehyung’s soft laughter fills the kitchen and brings a smile to your face as well. You both giggle and try not to wake the girls, but are almost failing miserably, especially when you try to put the glass on the top shelf without a stool. He takes it away from you and puts it there himself, earning a playful eye roll from you.

“I could have done that,” you tell him once you turn around. He folds his arms and scoffs.

“You’re fucking hilarious.”

As the laughter slowly calms, his eyes drift to the garbage disposal and lingers there for a few seconds. You cannot help but follow his gaze out of curiosity and notice the empty wine bottle lying among the other discarded items.

“Taehyung, I didn’t-That’s not mine. I promise,” you attest truthfully.

He closes the drawer quickly. “I know. That’s mine from earlier. I’m so sorry. I should have done a better job at getting rid of that. I just didn’t know you were—”

“No, it’s fine. I can see it. Smell it…I still don’t want any.”

Taehyung nods before his features raise in a flash of sudden thought. 

“But even if it was yours, I wouldn’t judge you for that, you know?...Whether it was just to help you relax or you were slipping, I’d never make you feel like you aren’t safe here. Not anymore.”

“You don’t have to do that. If I ever slip, you should—”

“Be the man I should have been and helped the mother of my children through what she was going through.”

You shake your head. 

“You promised me you wouldn’t think like that.”

Taehyung grits his teeth, fighting back emotions he’s probably been holding in for years. “I’ve tried, but I can’t let myself off the hook like that, not when you’re the only one who had to suffer for the shit I put you through.”

“You are not responsible for me giving up, I am. So stop it. Please.”

He shifts his focus elsewhere, attempting to hide his glossy eyes from you, but it’s impossible to not hear the shakiness in his voice.

“But I’m responsible for helping you back on your feet, and that’s in our vows. That is what I promised you, remember?”

“We have no vows, Taehyung! Not anymore. You divorced me, remember?” you argue and the feeling that follows is not one you favor. Regret, sorrow, pain…the list goes on. Bottom line, you should have never said it. 

Taehyung nods, running his hand over his face. “Yeah,” he clears his throat, “you’re absolutely right about that.”

“No, I didn’t…I should–Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

In a flash, you find yourself wrapped in his embrace stiffened with shock and unsureness. Comfort surrounds you but you’re too afraid to fall into it. It’s foreign in these arms.

“I just wanna be there for you. Just once,” he murmurs while his face is buried in your hair.

“But you have been…more than you’ll ever know.”

Taehyung sighs. “I could do so much more, but you’d never let me.”

“Taehyung, I owe you everything for allowing me to still be in the girls’ lives. So if there’s anything I can do for you, please—let me know.”

“I wouldn’t keep them away from you. I’d never do that,” he assures. As seconds go by, you become more relaxed and accustomed to your current position. Taehyung seems to be in some sort of daydream, a place that brings him comfort. You wonder where that is. “You know…sometimes I wonder what would happen if I just said fuck it and kissed you.”

You pull away and look at him. “You’ll only know if you find out.”

He scoffs.

“Like you’d let me do something like that.”

“I’m still in your arms, aren’t I?” you point out.

“Yeah. You are, huh?” he whispers while staring at your lips. Your body seems to gravitate towards him even though there’s literally no space between you. 

“Mmhm.”

His fingertip comes up to gently trace your bottom lip and your lashes flutter. “I’d give a million.”

“Just do it, Taehyung. Kiss me.”

And so he does. He leans in and softly cups your face in his hand, bringing his lips within a hair’s distance before he finally gives in. Initially, there’s hesitance on both parts, but after time passes and you become more familiar with each other’s touch again, the more right it feels. You would describe as two pieces that are finally joined and connected to one another. A magnetic pull between you that doesn’t want to tear you apart. And you wouldn’t want to if you could because for once in a very long time, you aren’t afraid of allowing someone to see you when you’re so vulnerable. 

Your hands explore and touch places you haven’t felt in years so when a small moan travels into Taehyung’s mouth in response to him squeezing your ass, he freezes.

“I should stop,” he suggests, preparing to withdraw.

“You don’t have to.”

Taehyung pulls away slightly, creases across his features. “But you aren’t feeling well.”

“Huh?” 

Taehyung seems amused by your confusion.

“Earlier, you were in pain, no?”

Oh.

“Sorry, I kind of lied about that,” you shrug, giving an awkward smile. Taehyung’s response isn’t one you’re expecting; his hands grab your waist and spin you around. “Um, Tae—”

“You’ve been doing that a lot, haven’t you?” 

His right hand ventures lower and you grip the counter to steady your wobbly legs. 

“Doing what?” you ask him.

He breathes a small chuckle in your ear and his deep voice makes you shiver. “Lying. To me of all people.”

Taehyung slaps your ass and you bite back the mewl that tries to escape your mouth. You whimper into his other hand when it moves to your face. The sting leaves you trembling, but arouses you nevertheless. Your pussy clenches around nothing, letting you know how desperate it is to be filled.

“That shit’s so unnecessary.” He scolds you while tenderly caressing the area of contact. You don’t know how long you can hold yourself together like this because it’s been forever since you’ve been touched. You want to let it out, but you know he can drag this out if he wants to. Patience is going to be the key. “You know you’re still my girl.”

“Fuck, Taehyung,” you cry into his palm when another slap is delivered to your rear.

The sound resonates through the kitchen, ricocheting through the silence. You both stay still for a moment, not moving or making a sound until you’re sure it didn’t wake the girls. You feel him smiling against your skin when he knows the coast is clear. 

“Fuck, Taehyung…you sound fucking sexy when you say that. Come here,” he mocks and spins you around.

His piercing gaze softens when he sees the fresh droplets rolling down your cheeks, but only for a second because he knows the real reason behind them is driven by nothing but want and pure lust. Taehyung pulls you close and wipes them away with his thumb. “I wanna take you upstairs…have a little fun with you.”

“Okay,” you answer. Your hands move from his face to his chest then eventually to his toned biceps, “Let’s go.”

“Yeah?...You sure?”

You nod. “Mmhm.”

“Come on,” Taehyung says as he grabs your hand and leads towards the stairs.

Your back falls onto the bed with a tiny thud. The softness envelops you almost immediately and your eyes naturally shut as you bask in the smell of home for the first time in two years. He still uses the same detergent, and it almost feels like you never left, but then reality hits you.

“You’ve changed your mind,” Taehyung mentions climbing on the bed and hovering over your body. He observes your features, trying to piece together what could be wrong on his own.

“That’s not it.” You sigh and he tilts his head with curiosity.

“Then what is?”

Your hand feels the fabric beneath you and you watch as the small wrinkles smooth out. A million thoughts running through your mind but only one actually makes itself known. 

“Women.” Taehyung’s frown displays his confusion so you elaborate. “How many have you had since we…How many have been in here?”

“There was one, but she’s never been here. No one else ever has, and no one ever will. This is my marital bed, the one I shared with you. I may have not respected it when you were here, but I do now, baby. You mean too much to me; I could never do that.”

His orbs hold sincerity and you believe the words he says to you. It’s not like you’d say anything if he did, but knowing he hasn’t makes you more comfortable with lying here.

“Do I know her?” you can’t help but ask.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t even know her.” He laughs briefly but then his expression turns serious and he gives you a small smile. “Now can we focus on you?...That’s all I wanna do tonight.”

“Okay, Taehyung.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Giving him the greenlight reignites the fire in his dark brown orbs. He lowers himself and kisses your lips, then your chin; he gets lower and lower until he can’t access any more of your exposed skin. Taehyung’s solution is to move lower, and find home between your thighs. 

He spreads them apart and begins to leave wet kisses up to the hem of your shorts. You feel a slight tug followed by a growl that ripples straight to your center. “Off.”

Your bottoms are pulled down quickly, and the action lets you know just how impatient Taehyung is right now. A lopsided grin adorns his handsome face when he takes in the sight of you lying beneath him in no panties, captivated by the slickness coating your folds. They glisten under the moonlight, exposing how deeply you desire him. You squeeze your thighs together when he tries to open you up for his greedy eyes.

“I already know how wet you are, just let me see,” he encourages and you slowly relax your muscles. You turn your head when he spreads you and the sound of your stickiness makes it to your ears. You can feel the smirk growing on Taehyung’s face when his fingers scissor your lips apart. “Look at that,” he whispers.

His digits move up and down your center, making your chest heave with exhilaration. He brings them together again and dips them into your opening, just enough to make your back arch. However, when he notices your closed eyes he’s quick to regather your attention.

“Hey,” he taps your clit with the pads of his fingers and your body twitches because of how sensitive you are, “I said watch.”

“Taehyung, I can’t.”

“Wanna come on my fingers?” he quips.

You nod feverishly, propping yourself on your elbows so your foreheads can touch. “Yeah. Yes, please.”

“Then watch, and tell me how deep you shove your fingers in your pussy when you think about me.”

Taehyung pushes two of his slender digits inside of your heat, causing your mouth to fall open. He pauses and gives you a moment to adjust to the sudden intrusion, however his gaze is anything but patient and gentle. “Please move,” you plead.

“How?”

“Fuck. Slow, and deep.” He adopts the pace you’ve given and finally begins to feed your needs. Your eyes stare at the amount of wetness that covers his fingers whenever he pulls out and you can hear him licking his lips as he imagines how you would taste on his tongue. Soon, you also become needier. “More,” you murmur while your lips are pressed on his.

“More?...Faster?” Taehyung’s movements quicken and a disgusting squelching sound fills the room, making your cheeks burn. Your hand grips his shirt for support and to keep yourself from floating away because he’s already taking you to your peak. “Of deeper?...How does my baby like her cunt fucked?”

You whimper when he buries his digits inside of you, keeping his same pace and curling them to make you come undone. A silent cry is the only response you can muster, and your eyes beg him not to stop until you’ve reached your release. But Taehyung has a few other plans.

He pushes you backwards, making you fall flat on the bed and dives into your wetness. His tongue attacks your throbbing clit, licking it in swift motions to add to your sensitivity. Your thighs threaten to close again, but his forearms and body weight keeps them apart. You squirm beneath him when his lips envelope the bundle of nerves, and your hands instinctively find his hair. Even though you grip onto his dark strands to keep your sanity, you still become overwhelmed with pleasure. Within seconds, you’re begging him to let you chase your high while grinding against his face.

Taehyung’s only response is to hook his arm around your thigh and lock you in place, forcing you to endure his merciless wet muscle until you’re contorting in his arms and softly punching the bed to cope with your intense orgasm.

“You taste so fucking good, you know that?” When his fingers abandon your leaking hole, it quivers from the loss, and Taehyung kisses the area to soothe you. Your body twitches and he releases a breathy laugh. His hands reach up to gently caress your nipples through your shirt while his lips and teeth work their way up your body. “I really can’t get enough of you.”

“Taehyung,” you whine when he uses his teeth to lift your shirt, exposing the faint stretch marks that crawl up your stomach.

“Don’t be like that, baby. You know how much I love this part.” Your body gives in once he starts tracing each stripe with the tip of his tongue, leaving a chill across your skin once the air hits the moisture. “I miss hearing your little moans. I miss you, _______.”

“I miss you too,” you gasp when his kisses reach the center of your stomach and his soft lips touch your navel. He smiles and gifts you with another, making you call out his name.

“I can tell. You’d probably come again if I kissed the right spot, huh?” He works his way up your body until he’s blocked by your shirt, and he quickly lifts it above your breasts. His mouth hovers over them, debating which one he wants to give attention to first. You try to guide him towards your lips but he grabs your wrists and pins your hands above your head. “Which one?”

“Tae—”

“Answer me, darling,” he warns, giving your wrists a squeeze. 

You sigh in defeat. “The left one.”

Shock comes over you when he ventures to the right instead, and you immediately begin to make noises of pleasure. Taehyung has no choice but to pull your shirt up further and use it to muffle your moans. You’re so sensitive and driven by lust, you forgot the girls were sleeping down the hall. 

Taehyung alternates between the two, nibbling and sucking each nipple with a precise amount of pressure to have you trembling underneath him. Your body arches into him, giving him the encouragement he needs to continue his torture with no mercy. Only when your body shakes with another pending orgasm does he release your nipple with an audible smack that causes you to mewl.

“You’re lucky,” he growls, pulling away to remove his shirt, “I need you to listen to me, okay?”

Your tongue pushes out your shirt so you can answer him.

“Yeah, okay.” Your eyes try to focus on his face, but when his dick springs out of his shorts, you have to hold yourself back from lunging forward and wrapping your lips around the reddened leaking tip.

“I’m going to give you a good fuck, but I need you to keep it down, alright?” Taehyung slaps your pussy with his thick shaft a few times to gather your arousal, and you have to bite your bottom lip to suppress a moan. He moves his hand up and down its length and coats it well before he brings the tip between your folds. The hard bluntness already has you whining. “Easy,” he reminds, running it along your slit.

You nod as tears gather in your eyes from the sensitivity and Taehyung’s finger touches your lips. “Shh,” he shushes as he slides in slowly.

He opts for covering your mouth with his palm to be safe then uses his other hand to tease your clit while you adjust to his size once again. “You’re still tight as fuck…still take me so well.”

“You feel so good,” you say after moving his hand.

“Yeah?...Can I go a little deeper? That’ll feel even better.”

You beckon for him to come closer and he does then you steal a kiss from his lips. He smiles as you wrap your limbs around him. “Fuck me.”

That’s all he needed to pull out of you and slam right back in. His self control finally falters and he fucks you with every ounce of pent up emotions he’s been burying all these years. The pace he sets is unforgiving, and your eyes roll back as pleasure builds within you once again. Your nails claw at anything they can reach—the pillows, the sheets, Taehyung. Anything to distract yourself from crying out as he pounds into you with everything he has.

“Taehyung,” you try to warn, but all it earns you is a bite on your right nipple. He rolls the bud between his teeth before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently to soothe it.

“Not now, rub your clit and I’ll tell you when to let go.” Taehyung grunts as he approaches his own release due to your walls clenching around him.

He rests on his forearms, allowing you to reach between you and stimulate your own bundle of nerves. Your thick salty tears roll down your cheeks from the overwhelming sensitivity. 

Taehyung places a firm grip around your throat  as his high approaches, and your eyes squeeze shut to focus on anything but coming. It feels so good, and all you want to do is surrender to your own pleasure.

When his thrusts begin to falter, he quickly requests your attention. “Keep those pretty eyes on me, okay? I want you to remember who makes you come on command.”

Your fingers continue to draw circles on your swollen clit, and when Taehyung angles his thrusts to target your g-spot, the coil in your stomach threatens to snap. 

“Come,” he growls in your ear.

Your vision whitens and another intense orgasm ripples through your body. A gush of your arousal forces Taehyung’s cock out of you, but he doesn’t mind finishing himself off while he enjoys the show.

The light pressure on your throat while he searches for his release, only granting you the tiniest bit of air he can offer. Your fingers continue to work in and out of your heat, making a larger mess beneath as another wave of juices leak onto the bed. You cry Taehyung’s name as quietly as you can and he comforts you in response.

“I know, just let it out, sweetheart. You deserve it,” he moans softly as ropes of cum paint your thighs and stomach. His hand loosen its grip and slides down your body once you’ve both calmed down. You lie on the bed in silence as he uses his shirt to wipe away the seed on your skin, thinking about all the horrible things they may come next. However, none of those things ever leave your mind.

He lies down beside you and envelopes you in his arms. “You alright?”

You nod.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Stop lying to me,” he chides, but you can hear the silent plea for honesty in his tone.

“I haven’t been okay in a long time, Taehyung. But right now, I feel better.”

Your back is turned but you can sense the approval in his aura. “Good.”

A beat of silence passes, and the soft strokes of his thumb makes your eyelids low and heavy. However, you still hear his deep voice speaking in your ear.

“I’m so sorry, for everything.”

You sigh. “I know, and I forgive you. Now please forgive yourself,” you insist.

“I will try, as long as you keep trying.” Taehyung stifles a laugh when you yawn, and you playfully nudge him with your elbow. “Get some sleep, you have a big day tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?”

He snuggles closer and buries his face in the crook of your neck. “You’ll see. Goodnight, love.”

However, sleep is no longer present in your tired eyes. Curiosity takes over your mind and you’ll spend the next two hours lying awake and wondering what tomorrow holds. 

You wake up to the smell of food for the first time since you moved out of Kaylin's apartment. It smells divine and your nose and stomach beg you to get up and follow it. However, before you leave Taehyung’s bedroom, you grab a pair of his sweats to cover your lower portion. You do your best at fixing yourself in the mirror, but eventually give up because no matter what you do, you still look like shit.

As you descend the stairs, you hear the girls talking to Taehyung in the kitchen and you pause before you enter to eavesdrop.

“Dad, why does mommy get scared so much?” you hear Khloe’s voice ask.

“Well,” the sound of him cracking eggs makes him pause so that the girl can hear when he speaks, “Mommy’s been through a lot and sometimes when something reminds her of all the bad stuff, it scares her a little bit.”

“But aren’t grown ups supposed to be brave?”

“Your mom is brave, sweetheart. She’s the strongest person I know,” he answers, and his words cause a warm feeling to grow inside you. 

“Really? But she’s afraid of the window wipers.”

You hear Taehyung’s deep chuckle fill the kitchen, and your heart flutters. Hearing your ex-husband say these things about you means more than he could ever know. You don’t realize you have tears until they reach your chin.

“Hey, I’m afraid of window wipers too, those things are wild!”

The girls start laughing and you hear Jade’s voice next. “But daddy, you aren’t afraid of anything.”

“That’s not true, Jade. I’m afraid of a lot of things.”

“Really? Like what?”

You lean in a little bit closer so you don’t have to strain your ears and your breath gets taken away by the way Taehyung answers her question.

“Mmhm. I’m afraid of a lot of things, but do you know who I always call when I’m upset or afraid?”

Both girls begin to bubble with curiosity. “Who? Who, daddy?”

“Your mommy.” The room gets quiet as your daughters process the response he gives and wonder why you were his answer in the first place. You hang on with the same interest. “She’s my best friend.”

Your hand covers your mouth to keep your soft sobs trapped within your throat.

“How?...Mommies and daddies can be friends?” Jade questions him.

“Of course they can. Your mom and I were close for a really long time before we fell in love. We did everything together, and she’d always stick up for me when someone was giving me a hard time.”

Khloe is the next to ask her question. “But how are you best friends when you don’t talk to each other that much? Did you make mom sad? Is that why she cries?”

You step forward, preparing to enter the kitchen and change the subject since the topic has gotten heavy, but Taehyung puts on a brave face and gives her nothing but his honesty.

“I did. I made her sad. But we both ruined our friendship before that. We lost each other somehow, and now we’re trying to get back to where we started.”

“Does that mean mommy can come back home?” Khloe inquires with a hopeful tone in her voice. 

“Well,” Taehyung sighs and turns around to check the food. You enter the kitchen unbeknownst to any of them and stand near the door frame to observe and wipe away your tears. “That’s entirely up to her. She’s always welcomed here, and I’d love for her to live with us again.”

“Me too,” Jade cheers.

Taehyung hums. “Have you told her that?”

“Have you?” Khloe counters, making you giggle.

Everyone turns towards the sound and finds you standing there awkwardly. The girls rush towards you screaming as loud as their little lungs allow them to. “Happy Mother’s Day, mommy!”

You wrap your arms around them.

“Thanks, my babies. I love you so much. How did you sleep?” 

“Good!” Jade exclaims, grabbing your finger and bringing you further into the kitchen. “Did you sleep okay, mom?”

Taehyung snickers to himself and you roll your eyes.

“I slept okay, but I think a bear was snoring outside of my window,” you reply, smirking at Taehyung when he turns and narrows his eyes.

“Must be a jungle out there, I could have sworn I heard some sort of wild animal squealing all night,” he adds.

The girls bounce up and down with excitement, obviously to the middle finger you’ve presented to their dad while they share their hopes of exploring later. He motions for you to come over and he makes room for you to squeeze in front of him.

“How long were you standing there?” Taehyung asks you, grabbing your hand and putting the spatula in it. He guides it to the skillet that the eggs are frying on and silently teaches you how to make them perfectly while he speaks.

“Long enough,” you answer.

Taehyung hums and continues to move your hand in the correct motions so the eggs won’t burn. “Jade likes her eggs fluffy, and Khloe likes hers cheesy. If you keep them separate like this, you can save a lot of time.”

He allows you to do it on your own, but you aren’t sure if you’re doing what you’re supposed to.

“Am I doing it right?” 

“Yup. Now you want to flip your bacon. They like it really crispy so it’s okay if it overcooks a little bit,” he informs, watching you turn the strip over. “Good job. They look almost ready. You can fix their eggs and I’ll take over this part, okay.”

You follow his instructions and place the fluffy eggs on Jade’s Minnie Mouse plate and the cheesy eggs on Khloe’s Scooby Doo themed plate, earning a small praise from Taehyung. You smile because you feel like you accomplished so much in the past few minutes. Yesterday you thought you’d missed your chance in being involved in the girls’ life.

“The plan was to bring you breakfast in bed, but I thought you’d enjoy this more.”

You turn to him after giving Khloe her meal. “Thank you. This means a lot. I should already know how to cook for them so I really appreciate you teaching me.”

“You don’t have to know how to cook or do any of the things everyone says you’re supposed to know how to do. But if you want to learn, I’m here to help you. We all are…the girls too.”

“That’s more than I deserve,” you whisper and he shakes his head.

“Last night you told me to forgive myself, I need you to do the same…because we were never upset with you. We love you, _______.” Taehyung suddenly snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a hug. “I think it’s time for us to forget about fixing our marriage; it was over before we started. But our friendship…I think that is what’s going to get us through this.”

You agree. Whenever the subject of your marriage is brought up, you’re both reminded of all the horrible memories that come with it. However, you still remember how close you were before, and how close you are now that you’re treating each other kindly out of love instead of obligation. It’s healthier, a safer environment for not only the girls, but for two people who have both been battling with demons of the past.

Last night was fun, but it wasn’t enough to consider falling back into the cycle. You’re glad you and Taehyung are on the same page because you need to be in order to raise your daughters.

“Yeah, I’d like that actually. We’re happier like this, and I don’t want to lose it all trying to rebuild a toxic situation. This is perfect…our perfect.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he sighs.

Jade and Khloe continue to eat their food while you and Taehyung chat. However, Khloe’s voice draws you both away from the conversation.

“Mom and dad are so cool,” she comments before taking a bite of her eggs.

Jade chimes in and makes you smile from ear to ear. “Mommy’s the coolest, though. Daddy says she’s a superhero.”

“Yeah, and her eggs taste better than daddy’s,” Khloe declares and your eyes grow wider.

You look at Taehyung and he dramatically rips off his Doc McStuffins apron before waltzing towards the stairs. 

“Well, since my services are no longer needed, I’ll be off to take a shower. You ladies better be ready by ten; we need to drop your mom off at her spa appointment and then plan more secret stuff that she doesn’t know about yet.”

You all giggle as his heavy footsteps ascend the stairs, complaining about being replaced by someone who can’t even boil water without supervision. You give your girls a fist bump and get them to help you with the dishes.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, Khloe.”

“Dad told me to give you this because he said he was too nervous to give it to you himself.” She holds out your wedding rings in her little palm and your hand clutches your chest. “He says you don’t have to wear it, but he feels better knowing they’re with you.”

You take them from her with a smile, fighting back the urge to shed a tear. For now, you place them on your finger because nowhere else seems right. You’re also aware of how Taehyung still wears his. Maybe it brings him as much comfort as it brings you. Your marriage was the worst, but two beautiful children were created during that time. Because of them, you were able to see your true place in each other’s life.

It doesn’t really have a title, but you know wherever you are now feels great. You’re family, and you’ll always be. Doesn’t matter if it isn’t what the world deems as “right.” What matters is that everyone is happy and the love is strong.

“What are you going to wear for your date tonight, mom—”

“Jade, that’s a secret!” Khloe shouts at her little sister. You can only laugh because you already heard him asking Kaylin to babysit when you were at the park yesterday. You knew he was up to something.

“Sorry. Please don’t tell him I told you,” she pleads.

You tap your chin in pretend thought. “Hmm, I guess I could keep a secret for one small fee.”

“What is it? I’ll do it!”

You squat in front of her and gently tap her nose with your finger.

“Gimme some kisses,” you request and they both tackle you and shower you with affection. You lie on your back, not even thinking about moving or getting them off of you. These moments heal everything that’s ever hurt and you’d never take them for granted again.

As the three of you wallow and play, the figure standing at the top of the stairs goes unnoticed by you. Taehyung watches his family with a proud and grateful smile. The same walls that used to witness so much fighting and torment can now be cleansed by the sounds of laughter and unconditional love.

This is how it should have always been, and he’s thankfully you both were able to save it in time. He looks at the diamond ring adorning your hand and a bigger smile forms on his face.

You two will be fine, no matter the purpose for wearing them. Your bond is unbreakable, and whatever the universe has in store, you’ll both be ready to take it on.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of those who celebrate and sending love to those who have lost their mom or to those who have lost a child whether they were in the womb or in this world. I personally have experienced both and I know how tough today is from some of us. 

With much love, Dee. I hope this brings some comfort to those who may need it.

[seita]

— reacting to your death.

includes: oikawa, iwaizumi, matsukawa, hanamaki, + kyoutani.

+ this is childhood friend!reader.

tw: major character death, grieving, blood and violence mention.

p a r t o n e ;;

⤿ part two: next (coming soon!)

-ˋˏ seijoh ˎˊ-

— tooru oikawa.

to tooru, the best course of action is to ignore it.

ignore the hurt, ignore the pain.

ignore the news completely.

in his mind, you’re just on vacation. or maybe you’re mad at him and ignoring him. you’ll come back.

he makes up scenarios and reasons in his head for why you’re not around. iwaizumi is angry, always yelling at him for being an idiot when he brings you up. but he doesn’t understand why.

he won’t talk about it. he doesn’t even acknowledge you’re gone until the funeral.

+

his hands are clasped in front of himself. the suit is uncomfortable and he doesn’t want to approach the casket. iwaizumi stands beside him, a sharp scowl plastered on his face.

“are you finally ready to face it?” he asks, keeping his voice quiet so the grieving people around them aren’t disturbed.

oikawa huffs out a laugh but it’s shaky -- watery. he’s trying so hard not to cry that it’s making his throat close up painfully. iwaizumi relaxes beside him with a sigh, his shoulders sagging before placing his hand on the taller’s shoulder.

“she wouldn’t want you to ignore it, shittykawa,” oikawa wants to laugh at his friend using that name even in the current situation.

typical iwaizumi.

always a pillar. always trying to be the strong one.

suddenly, oikawa finds himself wondering what your place in their little dynamic was. it feels like he can’t even remember you properly. it’d only been a few days since they lost you and it already feels like he’s...

“i don’t want to forget her,” oikawa suddenly chokes out, unable to stop his tears from falling finally.

“well then don’t dumbass,” iwaizumi’s voice was breaking, choked as he cried but oikawa didn’t want to look because he didn’t want to see his other friend falling apart as well.

— hajime iwaizumi.

he does not have good coping methods. his first and most immediately reaction is denial. he doesn’t want to believe what he’s hearing, so he just...doesn’t.

he assumes everyone is lying to him. there’s no way he could lose you. you’d been his friend since you were children; it’d always been you, iwa, and oikawa. so how could you possibly just be...gone?

the answer? you couldn’t.

that’s what he chose to believe, anyway.

+

“what are you talking about, shittykawa?” he snaps, refusing to pull his nose from his notes, “i think this has to be your worst joke yet.”

“it’s not a joke,” oikawa sighs, shuffling on his feet as he sniffles. if iwa chanced a look up at him, he’d see his friend had been crying for hours. but he wouldn’t look. because he didn’t want to see it, “her mom tried calling you...couldn’t get a hold of you. so i thought i’d...”

iwa slammed his notebook down, glaring straight ahead, “i told you to stop playing these stupid fucking jokes on me. it’s not funny.”

“iwa-”

“get the fuck out,” iwa jumped to his feet, grabbing the other brunette by the shirt.

the fabric creaked as it stretched. but oikawa didn’t put up a fight, letting iwaizumi toss him out of his bedroom door. he hit the floor with a thud before wincing at the deafening slam of the bedroom door.

iwaizumi sit back down, pulling up your text message. he had never answered your text asking if he would be alright studying on his own today. he had meant to answer but just forgot. his thumbs moved across the keyboard, eyes blurring with tears as he typed.

“come over. we can hang out together, okay?”

— issei matsukawa.

he was the first to admit that he wasn’t the best friend to have. he was sort of ghosty and a bit unreliable. he doesn’t mean to be. you knew that. he knew you did.

so there’s no way you would be upset with him, right? not for what he did.

he lets his own guilt eat him alive. even if everyone on earth told him it wasn’t hit fault -- he still puts every ounce of blame upon himself.

he lets it eat him alive. he thinks he deserves it.

because he let you down.

+

he stared at his phone. sometimes he could clearly see what he was looking at and other times it felt like he blacked out.

it was your text thread.

it wasn’t unusual for him to ghost you. he was never very talkative. you liked to tease him about it from time to time.

still, looking back, he could have at least responded this one time.

he doesn’t even remember what he was doing. probably nothing as important as it felt at the time.

“can you come pick me up?” it was a simple question. he hadn’t even bothered to ask where you were. if he had, he would have known you were only 10 minutes by car. it would have taken no time at all to stop what he was doing and go get you.

he wonders how long you had stared at his read receipt, wondering if he was going to come. he’ll never know.

he’ll never know the answer to why you were out so late. why you needed him to pick you up. how you felt in your last moments. he wondered if you thought of him then. if you blamed him. if you were sad or hurt by his ignoring you.

why didn’t he just go get you? why didn’t he answer you?

if he had, you would still be safe.

he wishes he could talk to you again. tell you that he was sorry. he didn’t know how important it was. he didn’t know you were scared -- that you weren’t safe.

he wanted to apologize, tell you that whatever stupid shit he was doing was nowhere near as important as you were.

he wanted to know if you had thought about him in your last moments -- the one person you had reached out to for help.

only for him to fail you.

he just wishes you knew that he didn’t mean to let you die.

— takahiro hanamaki.

it’s gotta be a joke, right?

ha-ha really funny. come out now.

when you don’t he’s confused. this really isn’t funny.

you can’t be gone. you can’t. because he needs you.

who else is going to help him during exams. or laugh at his terrible jokes. or make him feel better when he has his heart broken. what about when he’s sick? who will make him that amazing soup that always has him better in a day?

he refuses to let you go. he can’t be without you. it’s just not realistic.

so just...come out of wherever you’re hiding now, okay?

+

he tries to force the smile to remain in place as he stares at the unfamiliar faces in front of him.

“what um...what do you mean?” he laughs nervously, placing his hand to rub nervously on the back of his neck.

they repeat the news. it goes in one ear and out the other. he laughs, ignoring the confused look on their faces.

he takes a few steps back, shaking his head.

“that’s a...real funny joke. i’m just gonna...” he feels tears stinging at his eyes but he doesn’t know why. it’s obviously just a joke. he doesn’t want to be that dork who cries over a practical joke, “go call her now.”

they don’t try to call him back, pity on their faces as he slumps away, phone in hand as he dials your number. he’s pretty sure he’s far enough away when he starts crying at the sound of your voicemail.

— kentarou kyotani.

kyoutani copes violently. if there is one thing he doesn’t like, it’s change. and there’s no bigger change than losing someone you’ve known your entire life.

he didn’t have many friends -- really you were the only one he was comfortable actually giving that title. so without you, he had no one. he refused to let you go.

anger builds and builds.

and without you there to mellow him out like you usually do...it explodes.

+

there’s a fist sized dent in the wall. or maybe 4.  his knuckles are busted open and bleeding but he doesn’t feel the pain. his shoulders are heaving but even after lashing out he doesn’t feel better.

what is he supposed to do?

usually he calls you.

usually you come waltzing into his bedroom with a frown, ‘kenta, you can’t do that!’ you’d scold him. but you wouldn’t.

he knew you wouldn’t.

but that didn’t stop him from hoping.

god, he wanted you to walk in so bad. even if you didn’t knock. sometimes he would get so mad at you for that. but right now, he would give anything to hear his bedroom door fly open.

he held his fist close to his chest, squeezing his eyes closed to keep himself from crying. he never cried. he didn’t want to start now. he clenched his jaw together aimed his fist at the wall again, a large cracking noise coming from the plaster as if caved under the pressure.

then, almost as if it were out of his best dreams, the door clicked open. he whirled around with wide eyes, hope sparkling within them.

only to find the troubled face of tsukishima there instead of you.

kyoutani finally allowed himself to cry.

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.