#but it's not like i can convince anyone to switch to a slower and more text/reflection-based platform either now can i

[sisterdivinium]

It's interesting to stroll around Fanlore reading discussions that took place in 2007 talking about the fractured nature of fandom on LJ and people interacting without having enough context (as in commenting on a post they did not read by a user they do not know) when you're living in 2023 and people distribute likes without reading anything or commenting; when there's supposedly "drama" of unknown origins happening in more than one website at the same time because there's no real "home base" for fandom activity anymore; and we're all carrying on with our lives reblogging things without even looking at previous notes and reactions to that same post even if out of simple curiosity...

[requiemforthepoets]

this time, i’ll love you much better

PAIRINGS: fernando alonso x ex-wife!reader

SUMMARY: your daughter had been insistent on you letting her attend a summer camp miles away from home, she was relentless, until you had gave up and let her go.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect to the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, divorce, singe dad nando (for the meantime), piercing of ears, cutting hair, typos, not proofread, switching places, named characters (except yours), camp pranks, twin civil war, and cursing.

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi! i had already posted this fic before, but i decided to rewrite it bc i didn’t like how i wrote it before😅 it will be turned to series (again), and indecided to chop off other stuff and expound the story more. this was inspired by the movie ‘parent trap’ (1998), which is a favorite and comfort movie of mine. also, pls don’t pierce your own ear, this was just for the sake of the story, pls have your ears pierced by a professional!

to those who had read this fic before, i hope thay you’ll like this new version. comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. enjoy reading!

ONE - CAMP WALDEN

𖤓 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒑��𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒐 ☽

The warm evening breeze filtered through the lush gardens, the soft, ambience music mingling with the chatter of guests dressed in gowns and suits as elegant as the event itself. You moved gracefully, a familiar figure gliding through the crowd, your hand wrapped loosely around the delicate crystal glass filled with champagne.

Tonight was no different than most—a charity gala held in one of the grand halls that you frequented as often as you flew to Paris for fashion week. Your gown, a soft blush with intricate beading that glimmered under the lights, seemed to cast a spell on those around you, but you barely even noticed. Your mind drifted as you nodded politely at the familiar faces, murmuring polite greetings. Even here, surrounded by prestige and opulence, your thoughts inevitably lingered somewhere else, somewhere that was far away from this world.

There was a gentle tug on the fabric of your dress, and you looked down to see Jullianna standing there, her eyes bright as she held a small, sleepy smile.

“Mama,” she whispered, reaching her arms up. She was the spitting image of you in those early years, with her curious eyes and calm demeanor that could enchant anyone.

“Are you tired, my love?” You knelt down, gently pulling her into your arms, and brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

She nodded, her small hands curling into the fabric at your shoulder. “Can we go home soon?”

“Just a little longer, darling.” You whispered, smiling as you kissed the top of her head as you stood, now hold her close.

You felt a wave of guilt at keeping her here so late, but knowing these kinds of events, it is a part of your life, it is a life you led—a life you had built carefully, elegantly, for her.

The evening passed in a blur, and as you settled into the back of the car with Jullianna asleep in your arms, your mind wandered, as if often did, to Fernando. Your divorce had been for the best, you had convinced yourself of that a long time ago. His world had always been one of constant movement—racing, travel, and late nights. For you, a life of slower elegance, deeply rooted in tradition and legacy, had never meshed well with the constant, fast-paced nature of his life. It had always been difficult to explain to friends or even to yourself in those early years, but you knew it was true, that there were some things that are simply not meant to be.

Twelve years had passed since the day you made the decision, standing in that quiet empty house, feeling like half of you had walked out the door with him and Sofia. You had returned to France almost immediately, not even wanting to stay in the place you once called home with him, and eventually, your heart led you further east—to Singapore, where you thought the new environment might help you leave behind the memories that clung to you like shadows.

That night, as you tucked Jullianna into bed, you sat by her side, brushing a gentle hand through her hair, and whispering the same words you did every night in her sleep, her lips curved into a faint smile, and left you feeling a bittersweet pang.

“Je t’aime, ma belle.” You kissed her forehead softly.

As you left her room, the silence of the night settled around you. Sitting alone in your home office, your gaze fell on a photograph tucked into the corner of your shelf—a rare family picture that was taken on the twins’ first birthday. Fernando was holding Jullianna, while you held Sofia. It was before the late-night arguments that began over small things and grew louder, sharper, until one day they no longer seemed fixable.

A knock on your door had pulled you from your thoughts. It was your housekeeper, Madeline, carrying your tea in your hand.

“Madame, here’s the nightly tea that you had requested earlier.” She said, her voice soft as she set the tea down.

“Thank you so much, Madeline.” You replied and smiled warmly at her.

The moment Madeline had left your office, closing your door softly, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. A thousand unsaid words had echoed in your head and missed memories washed over you like a tidal wave. Despite everything, there was still that part of you that would always wonder about the family you had left behind, that would forever miss the sound of Fernando’s laugh, how Sofia had wrapped her little arms around your neck as a baby, and the way you once felt—whole.

“Oh, Fernando…if only things had been different.” A single tear streaming down your face as you whispered into the night, as if speaking to the wind itself.

The words hung in the air, unanswered, as the ache in your heart settled back like a familiar companion, and as the city lights glimmered through your window, you realized that maybe, sometimes memories were meant to be kept as they were—frozen in time, a bittersweet reminder of a love that once was.

It was a warm summer afternoon, the sun streamed gently through the windows of your home office, casting a soft, golden glow over the polished mahogany furniture. Outside, the manicured gardens were in full bloom, but your focus was entirely on Jullianna, who was seated on the white velvet couch, her face alight with excitement. She had been pleading her case for the better part of an hour, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling.

“Please, Mama,” she said, voice laced with hope as she clasped her hands. “It’s just for the summer! Camp Walden is supposed to be amazing! They have horseback riding, fencing, tennis, archery, and all kinds of activities.”

You tilted your head, smiling slightly as you watched her. Jullianna’s enthusiasm was really contagious, yet the thought of sending her somewhere far away, even for just a few weeks, filled you with a strange kind of emptiness. Jullianna was your heart, your world, the one who grounded you in all these years since the divorce. Letting her go, even briefly, felt like tearing away a part of yourself.

“I don’t know, darling,” you murmured, brushing a hand over the silk of your blouse as you gathered your thoughts. “You’ve never been away from home before, and this camp is so far away. What if you need something? What if…” your voice trailed off, concern evident in every word.

“Mama, I’ll be fine, I swear!” Jullianna leaned forward, her small hands resting gently on yours as she assured you, voice steady and wise beyond her years. “You’ve always said that being independent is important, and I think I’m ready. Besides, it’ll also be a great opportunity for me to learn new things and make new friends. I promise I’ll write to you everyday!”

“You know, my love,” you said softly, “it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that it is hard for me to imagine you being so far away, without me there to make sure you’re safe.”

“That’s why Tante said she’d check in on me. She lives so close—just an hour away! She said she’d visit every week to make sure I’m doing okay.” She said as she squeezed your hands.

That part did soothe you, if only a little. Your sister, always the adventurous one, had been quick to support the idea, insisting that it would be good for Jullianna to experience a little bit of independence. But still, the decision weighed heavily. You had spent every moment of Jullianna’s life by her side, and you had always been protective, especially after all the things that had happened with Fernando. The mere thought of her being away from you, even in a structured, prestigious environment, felt like an unfamiliar stretch.

“Alright. Just promise me one thing, Jullianna,” you finally said, soothing her hair back from her face as you looked at her with tender seriousness. “Promise me that if anything feels wrong or if you ever feel scared, you’ll tell someone right away. You’ll let Tante know, or write to me, and we’ll bring you back home.”

“I promised, Mama. I’ll tell you everything, and I’ll call Tante if I need anything.” A small smile spread across her face, and then she added softly, “thank you for letting me go.”

“Always remember, my darling,” you said, leaning down to kiss her forehead, “that there is no place I wouldn’t go to bring you back if you needed me.”

You sighed, and you pulled her for an embrace. The weight of your decision finally settling over you. As you pulled back, her eyes glistened with a mixture of excitement and understanding.

“I know, Mama. I’ll miss you so much, too.” She smiled.

You began gathering the essentials for her time at Camp Walden, and there were moments you found yourself staring at her empty bed or the corner where her favorite books were stacked, a sense of bittersweet filling up your heart. The house already felt quieter, emptier in a way you had not expected, and she hadn’t even left yet. But, you knew that letting her go, allowing her to experience this bit of independence, was necessary, even if it made your heart ache.

A few weeks later, the day arrived. You watched as the car pulled up in front of the sprawling, tree-lined grounds of Camp Walden. Other girls were already waving and chattering with excitement, and you felt a pang of wistfulness as you saw them heading off to the cabins. You stood with Jullianna, adjusting her hat, dusting off an imaginary dirt on her clothes, and brushing stray hair from her face.

“Be good, be safe, and remember everything we talked about.” You said, voice a little unsteady.

Jullianna wrapped her arms around you, her embrace warm and firm. “I’ll see you soon, Mama. Thank you for letting me come.”

You nodded, holding her tightly for a moment before letting her go. As she joined the other campers, you stayed rooted to the spot, watching her until she disappeared into the crowd. There was a strange sense of emptiness as you climbed back into the car, already missing the sound of her laughter beside you.

For now, you leaned back and sighed as you closed your eyes. The image of Jullianna’s smiling face etched into your heart, as the car began its journey back to the airport where your private jet was waiting for you to fly you back to Singapore.

It all started with a tennis match on a warm afternoon, the kind of day where the sun blazed high and relentless, and the sounds of campers filled the air around the sprawling grounds. Jullianna had signed up for the camp’s tennis tournament on a whim, hoping to try her hand at something new and shake off the lingering homesickness that came in waves when she least expected it. Her new found friends had cheered Jullianna on as she walked onto the court, her ponytail swinging and her competitive spirit freshly ignited.

Across the net, Sofia stood waiting, expression cool and confident. She had her own group of friends watching from the sidelines, whispering excitedly and glancing between the two girls with eager anticipation. From the moment the match began, it was clear as daylight that it wasn’t going to be an ordinary game. Every swing, rally, sharp glance, and return was met with a fierce determination, each of them fighting to outdo the other, and neither of them are willing to back down.

The twins’ heated match had caught other campers' attention from their respective activities and gathered around the court, sensing the tension in the air, and whispering amongst themselves. It wasn’t everyday that they witnessed a match this heated, not even during the annual camp tournaments.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Sofia taunted as she shot Jullianna a glance from across the net, smirking. It was enough of a challenge to spark something in Jullianna.

Jullianna’s eyes narrowed, gripping her tennis racket tighter as she retorted. “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

She fired a powerful serve that sent the ball rocketing across the net, forcing Sofia to scramble. But Sofia, with her practiced ease, returned it with just as much force, refusing to let Jullianna gain the upper hand.

The game went on like this, each point hard-fought and full of grit, until finally, with a final stroke, Sofia won the match. She tossed her racket aside, beaming at her friends, who cheered wildly from the sidelines. Meanwhile, Jullianna, panting and flushed with exertion, felt the bitter sting of defeat, and glared at Sofia, unable to believe that she had lost, but her pride would not let her stay silent.

“You got lucky.” Jullianna muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh please!” Sofia said smoothly, her tone dripping with sarcasm as her smirk widened. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”

Before Jullianna could fire back, her stance ready to pounce on Sofia if needed just to wipe off that annoying smirk of her, Stella, the camp assistant, with wide eyes and a gentle disposition, stepped forward, looking flustered. Stella glanced back and forth between the two girls, a confused expression evident on her face.

“Uh…Jullianna…Sofia…” she stammered, clearly unnerved by how alike they looked. “Girls, let’s calm down. It was just a match, let’s shake hands and put this friendly rivalry to rest, okay?”

Neither Jullianna nor Sofia seemed to hear Stella. Each of them was far too wrapped up in her annoyance and indignation, unwilling to back down. It was really uncanny—looking at a pair of mirrors that refused to acknowledge their reflection. But when Stella opened her mouth again to address it, both girls had already disappeared, leaving the camp assistant standing alone, bewildered.

What followed over the next few days was nothing short of a civil war. Each girl, armed with a fierce competitive spirit, began to pull pranks on each other, each more elaborate than the last, and Sofia, being a seasoned camper, had the advantage of knowing the camp’s hidden corners and tricks, but Jullianna proved to be a quick learner, catching up faster than anyone had anticipated.

One morning, Jullianna woke to find her cabin floor littered with marble and lego pieces, strategically placed so she’d slip the moment her feet touched the ground. She had managed to avoid the worst of it, but not without a near-fall that sent her stumbling and feet aching over the lego pieces. When she arrived at breakfast, she spotted Sofia across the mess hall, smirking and laughing with her friends, Jullianna narrowed her eyes, a silent vow forming in her head.

Oh it’s on, Sofia Alonso.

The next day, it was Jullianna’s turn to get back at Sofia. She placed a bucket of water, that was mixed with two big boxes of sugar that she and her friends were able to snatch from the camp’s kitchen, balanced precariously on the ledge. As soon as Sofia opened her cabin door and stepped through, it tipped, dousing her from head to toe, smelling and sticky because of the sugar that was mixed with the water. The sound of Jullianna and her friends’ laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, and she greeted her teeth.

The pranks continued to escalate further—each one more creative and outrageous than the last. Sofia had retaliated by sneaking a couple of live frogs into Jullianna’s cabin, knowing how she hated frogs to the core, and hiding them in her bed just before lights out. The next morning, Jullianna’s scream echoed across the campgrounds, sending other campers into fits of laughter.

This caused the other campers to watch the spectacle unfold, some even placing bets on who would win their latest round of pranks. It became the talk of the camp, and soon, even the counselors started to take notice of it, their amusement gradually giving way to concern.

However, the tipping point came on a humid afternoon when Sofia’s latest prank went awry. She had meticulously planned to replace Jullianna’s shampoo with a mixture of sticky maple syrup and glue, convinced it would finally give her the upper hand once again. But, in a twist of fate, the camp director herself, Marva, just happened to use Jullianna’s shower stall that day. The furious yelp that echoed through the cabin when the sticky concoction met her hair was one no one would forget anytime soon.

Marva stormed into the mess hall that evening, her hair ruined and still a very sticky mess despite doing her best effort to wash it out thoroughly, but the stickiness was making it impossible.

“Jullianna Young! Sofia Alonso!” She barked, voice cutting through the chatter of the other campers like a whip.

Jullianna and Sofia, who had been sitting at opposite ends of the hall, both stiffened, exchanging a glance across the room. They knew very well that they were in big trouble, but neither was prepared for the scolding that followed.

“I have had enough of this nonsense!” Marva snapped, glaring at them both. “You two have disrupted this camp long enough with your childish rivalry. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but whatever it is, it stops now.” Both girls just remained silent, each of them secretly fuming at the other.

Marva took a deep breath, clearly struggling to keep her composure. “Since neither of you seem capable of behaving properly, you’ll be spending the rest of your time here together in the isolation cabin. No pranks, no game, and no tennis matches. Just the two of you, side by side.”

A collective gasp rippled through the mess hall as the campers exchanged shocked glances. The isolation cabin was notorious—it is a small, rustic cabin far from the main grounds, used for serious disciplinary issues. Jullianna opened her mouth to plead her case, but Marva held up a hand, silencing her immediately.

“Not another word.” Marva sent Jullianna a pointed look. “Gather all of your things, both of you. You’ll be escorted there tonight.”

As the mess hall fell silent, the girls shot one last, seething glance at each other before trudging out of the mess hall, each silently blaming the other. Neither of them had any idea what awaited them in that cabin, but they were both determined to make sure the other regretted every prank, every stolen moment of peace.

The isolation cabin loomed under the silver light of the moon, its walls pressing down with a silence that seemed heavier than the woods surrounding it, and the faint smell of old pine mingling with the summer air drifted through the cracked window. Jullianna stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the modest setup—- single room with two narrow beds on opposite walls, a small wooden table on each side, and the dim bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting faint shadows that only added to the sense of confinement. It is not really the kind of space where two strong-willed girls could coexist peacefully for the entire summer.

Sofia brushed past her with a sigh, already so over with what had happened during the day, and just ready to get some sleep. She set her bag on the bed near the door, her expression tense and unreadable.

“Guess you’re taking that side then.” Jullianna muttered, sliding her own bag onto the bed nearest the window, needing the slight reprieve the view might offer.

Sofia merely shrugged, glancing around the cabin before sinking down onto her bed. She did not respond, but the look she shot Jullianna spoke volumes, one of those silent, frustrated exchanges that siblings seem to master effortlessly.

The silence between them stretched, thick and awkward, broken only by the distant sounds of the camp settling in for the night. Jullianna retrieved her pen and paper, intending to start the letter she had been meaning to send to you. She hoped it would soothe the relentlessness that gnawed at her, the unsettling feeling that maybe, she had made a big mistake of coming to Camp Walden.

Jullianna began writing in a neat hand, taking care to choose her words carefully. She even hesitated, chewing on the pen cap as she considered what else she could say to you.

Dear Mama,

I’m doing well at camp, and I’m learning a lot. The counselors are nice, the activities are…fun. I had met a really terrible girl, and she’s very very rude, and got us into big trouble, and maybe you were right after all, maybe I shouldn’t have come to Camp Walden, maybe I’m not ready yet to be on my own…

The moment Jullianna saw what she had ended up writing, had been crossed out, and just sighed. Then, without any warning, the lights flicked off, plunging the cabin into darkness. Jullianna blinked, her eyes adjusting to the faint glow filtering through the windows, and realized that Sofia had casually flipped the switch from her side of the room, clearly telling her intent to sleep.

“Hey! What the hell?” Jullianna snapped, narrowing her eyes in the darkness. “I wasn’t finished.”

“It’s late,” Sofia replied evenly, her voice carrying a hint of smugness. “Some of us actually want to sleep, you pompous ass.”

“Well, I want to finish my letter.” Jullianna replied, ignoring the name calling that had been done by Sofia. “It’s not like I’m even bothering you.” She huffed, reaching for the switch by her bed and flicking it back on.

The light filled the room one more, and she caught a glimpse of Sofia’s exasperated expression before Sofia silently turned it off again. Jullianna gritted her teeth, annoyance already bubbling up as she stretched over to turn it back on, refusing to back down. Suddenly, the twins had fallen into a wordless rhythm—Sofia switching the light off, Jullianna switching it back on, they were going at it back and forth, in an escalating battle of wills. With each flip of the light switch, their resolve only seemed to deepen, neither of them are willing to be the one to concede. It was like the tennis match all over again.

“You know what? Fine!” Sofia muttered, letting out an exasperated sigh, and rolling her eyes as she settled back on her pillow, turning away from Jullianna. “Have your freaking light. Clearly, writing a letter is more important than getting any sleep.”

Jullianna’s jaw tightened, resisting the urge to retort. She knew that Sofia was only trying to get under her skin, but still, she could not ignore the sting of frustration. This was supposed to be her space, her chance to find some peace, and here was Sofia, already encroaching on it. After a pause, Jullianna went back to her letter, scribbling with more intensity than before, as if each stroke of the pen could somehow vent her irritation.

The camp is fine, though I do wish there were a little more…personal space, and that Sofia Alonso was the biggest and awful creature that had ever walked this planet!

She glanced pointedly at Sofia’s turned back. But as the silence settled back over them, Jullianna felt the weight of their situation press down, a heavy reminder of the consequences they now had to endure. She thought back to the pranks, tennis match, and the bubbling resentment she had not quite been able to shake. Now, all of it had come back to haunt her, and there was nothing either of them could do to change any of it. Marva’s words echoed in her mind—you’ll be spending the rest of your time here together in the isolation cabin.

Looking over at Sofia, wondering if she was feeling the same sting of regret. It was one thing to engage in their rivalry out on the campgrounds, where they had their own space, but here, the walls closed in, and the tension between them felt inescapable.

“You know, if this keeps up, they’ll end up calling our parents.” Sofia murmured, her voice laced with a hint of worry.

Jullianna paused, her pen hovering over the paper as he stomach somersaulted at the thought. The last thing she wanted was for you to receive a call from Marva, detailing how your daughter had been banished to the isolation cabin, as Marva listed the things she had done like it was war crimes. She couldn’t bear at the thought of you regretting the decision to let her come home, disappointing the only person she looked up to more than anyone else in the world. To more than anyone else in the world.

“Yeah, well,” Jullianna replied, her bravado faltering, “I don’t think either of us wants that.”

Sofia glanced over her shoulder, gaze softer, almost resigned. “So maybe we should just…stay out of each other’s way.”

Jullianna nodded in agreement, feeling a reluctant agreement settled between them, though the air was still thick with tension. They did not say another that night. She decided to write a new letter and had finished it in silence, leaving out the parts about the pranks and rivalry, keeping the tone cheerful and optimistic for your sake.

When Jullianna finally set the letter aside and turned off her bedside light, she could feel Sofia’s presence only a few feet away, a constant reminder of the thin line they both now walked. They had no choice but to endure this together, their own choice binding them to this small cabin in the middle of the woods.

As Jullianna lay awake, staring at the ceiling, Jullianna realized just how long the summer ahead truly felt.

The late afternoon sun spilled through the cabin window, casting a soft golden glow that painted the room in a warm light. Jullianna sat cross-legged on her bed, journal opened in her lap as she carefully sorted through the small collection of photos she had brought with her from home. The journal was more than just a pastime, it was her link to everything familiar, a little piece of home could flip through whenever she missed you or the world that was beyond camp.

One by one, she arranged the photos—old photos of you and her, her friends from school, and places she loved most. There was one photograph, however, that she always kept tucked at the back, out of sight but never truly out of mind. It was an old photo of her father, Fernando, one taken long before things had changed so drastically for the worst. The picture had been ripped down in the middle, jagged separating him from the rest of the family photo, leaving only his half behind.

Jullianna stared at it for a moment, her fingertips tracing the worn edges, a strange mixture of warmth and sadness filling her chest. She missed him, even if she could hardly remember him. She missed what might have been. As she was placing the photograph ik the journal, she felt a presence near her, and she glanced up to find Sofia watching her curiously. Sofia’s expression was unreadable, but her gaze was sharp, focused on the photo in Jullianna’s hand.

“What’s that?” Sofia asked, a hint of something suspicious in her voice.

“Just…” Jullianna hesitated, holding the journal protectively against her chest. “Some photos from home.” She replied, hoping that her reply would appease Sofia’s curiosity.

“Let me see.” Sofia insisted, taking a step closer.

Before Jullianna could even form a response, Sofia had already leaned over and snatched the photo from her hands, holding it up to the light. Her eyes scanned the picture, and Jullianna could see the flicker of confusion cross her face, followed by something deeper—something darker.

“Why the hell do you have a picture of my father?” Sofia’s voice was low, tense, laced with a disbelief that quickly turned into anger.

Her hands clenched around the edges of the photo as if holding onto it hurt, but she could not let go. Jullianna’s mouth fell open, her mind reeling.

“Your father?” She repeated, feeling a sudden wave of confusion crash over her. “That’s my father.”

“No, this is my dad! Why the hell do you have this picture?” Her tone grew louder, angrier, each word brimming with accusation, as if Jullianna had stolen something from her. “You had no right to—”

“Sofia,” Jullianna’s voice cut through, steady yet trembling, she’s not really used to confrontations like this. “I’m telling you the truth, he’s my father too.” Her words hung heavy in the air, and she could see the rage in Sofia’s face waver, replaced by a flash of doubt.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, both twins were processing the words that had just been exchanged. Then, as if some unspoken understanding passed between them, Sofia reached into her own things, rifling through until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out a photograph of her own, one that looked hauntingly familiar. It was an image of you, torn the same way in the middle, only this time, the tear separated you from the man beside.

“This…this is my other picture.” She whispered as she held up the photo, hand shaking and voice barely above breath.

Jullianna took in the image, her heart pounding as she realized what it meant. The jagged tear in each of their photos matched perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to be joined. The world seemed to tilt around her, air getting heavy with the enormity of the truth sinking in.

All those years, all the questions she had never had any answers to—they were standing right in front of her, and her mirror image was the one holding them.

“You’re…” Jullianna’s voice broke, her throat tight as the words struggled to find their way out. “We’re…twins.”

Sofia’s face was a mixture of shock and disbelief. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came. They both stood there, frozen, each searching for the other’s face for answers, for some kind of proof that this was not just a strange dream.

Jullianna sank down on the edge of her bed, staring at the two photographs, Fernando in one, and you in the other, torn apart but now brought together by the both of them. The silence between the twins was thick, heavy with the weight of everything they had missed, everything they hadn’t known until now.

“I don’t understand,” Sofia finally said, voice softer, almost vulnerable. “Why didn’t they tell us anything? Why were we…separated?”

“I don’t know. I never even knew you existed, it was just always me and Mama…” she trailed off, voice trembling, the realization settling painfully in her heart.

Sofia sat down across from her, a flicker of hurt crossing her face. “For me, it’s always been just me and Papa. I thought that was it.”

Both fell silent again, each lost in their own thoughts, the reality of their shared past unraveling slowly before them. Jullianna could see the same ache reflected in Sofia’s eyes, a sense of loss neither of them had expected to find. They had grown up worlds apart, yet they had been carrying the same missing piece all along, unaware that it belonged to each other.

Sofia reached out hesitantly, her hand hovering over the two torn photos, as if by placing them together, she could somehow bridge the gap between their two lives.

“Maybe,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion, “maybe it’s not too late for us, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, voice steady and certain. “Maybe it isn’t.”

Later that evening, when the cabin was already dark and quiet, with only the sounds of occasional rustle of leaves outside and soft breaths of the twins can be heard as they lay in their separate beds, each lost in their own thoughts. Jullianna had just started drifting off to sleep when she heard a small whisper.

Hey, psst!” Sofia called, her voice low, but insistent.

Jullianna rolled over, groaning softly. “What do you want, Sofia? I’m trying to sleep.”

“I have an idea, a very brilliant one.” She leaned up on her elbow, a spark of excitement lighting up her face, even in the dim light.

She opened one eye, squinting at her sister. “Can this please wait until the morning? When I’m fully rested and can absorb information properly?”

“No! Come on, it’ll just take a second.” Sofia pleaded.

“Fine!” Jullianna finally gave in. “If this brilliant idea of yours is anything like your last brilliant idea that landed us in this cabin, consider me not interested.” She added, voice laced with a hint of sarcasm.

“Damn, now we know which twin has a stick up in their ass all the time.” Sofia snickered.

Jullianna gasped, looking really appalled. “I do not have a stick up in my ass, thank you very much!”

“Whatever,” Sofia rolled her eyes, “but come on! I swear this one’s different. Just hear me out.”

Jullianna sighed, sitting up as well, rubbing her eyes and reluctantly giving her attention to her sister. “Alright, I’m listening. What’s this brilliant idea of yours?”

Sofia leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “We should switch places.”

“Switch places?” Jullianna blinked, staring at her sister like she had suddenly grown two heads. “You mean you want me to go live with Papa, and you’ll go live with Mama?”

She nodded eagerly, her eyes gleaming with excitement at the idea. “Exactly! Think about it, Jullianna! I’ve been dying to meet her my whole life, and don’t you want to know what it’s like to live with Papa? Even just for a little while?”

“Are you insane in the head?” Jullianna looked at Sofia as if she were out of her mind. “How on earth would we pull something off like that? The second I step off the plane, Mama will know I’m not me. We may look alike, but there are a thousand little things she’d notice right away.”

But Sofia was not ready to give up that easily. She shifted closer, her face determined. “Not if I practice. I can learn your habits, your mannerisms, everything. I’ve watched you all summer, and I already know how you talk and walk. I can definitely pull this off, I know I can.”

“And what about me?” Jullianna let out a huff of disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest. “How am I supposed to fool Papa? What if he asks me about something I don’t know or realizes I’m not you?”

Sofia’s face softened, and for a moment, she looked almost vulnerable. “Well, I don’t think he would. He’s always away and busy. He wouldn’t even notice.”

“You really think you can fool Mama? You think you know her that well?” Jullianna’s expression shifted, a hint of curiosity into her voice.

“I know her well enough to know that she loves you so much. I’ve heard stories from Papa about how she’s so elegant, so graceful, and I’ve imagined what it would be like to meet her a million times.” Sofia said earnestly. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to make it work.”

Jullianna felt a pang in her chest at the thought of Sofia’s longing, the years they had missed out on with each other, and with their parents. She tried to shake off the bittersweet feeling, but it lingered, tugging at her heart.

“Sofia…” she started, her voice soft. “This is really crazy, and dangerous. A little bit ridiculous as well if I'm being honest.”

Sofia gave her a small, hopeful smile. “So, you up for it?”

Jullianna bit her lip, torn between Sofia’s skepticism and the growing sense of curiosity. She had always wondered about Fernando, about what kind of person he was, what it would be like to spend time with their father—and as much as she hated to admit it, there was a part of her that wanted to see it for herself.

Finally, she let out a sigh, throwing her hands up in resignation. “Fine. Fine, I’ll do it. But if this all backfires, I’m fully blaming you.”

Sofia’s face lit up, and without any warning, she launched herself across the small space, wrapping her arms around Jullianna in a tight hug.

“Thank you, thank you!” She squealed. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Jullianna, unaccustomed to the sudden skinship, hugged her back, though she couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she whispered, “you better not mess this up.”

“Oh, don’t worry your pompous ass about it.” Sofia pulled back, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Will you stop calling me that?” Jullianna glared at her.

“Naur.” Sofia teased. “But, it was nice doing business with you, partner!”

“I should’ve drafted an agreement before I had agreed to this plan.” Jullianna murmured.

“Too late, no backsies!” Sofia stuck her tongue out at Jullianna.

She just shook her head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Let’s just hope this brilliant idea of yours doesn’t end in total disaster.”

The isolation cabin was not exactly the punishment that Marva, the camp director, had intended for it to be, at least not to the twins. Sure, they were banned from most camp activities and had been relegated to kitchen duties—a consequence they were constantly reminded of as they scrubbed pots and peeled endless potatoes, but it was during these hours of exile that they found an unexpected advantage. They basically had the entire summer to prepare for their switch, and with no one or any camp activities to interrupt, they were free to study each other’s lives without interference.

Every morning, after finishing up in the kitchen, they would take their usual spot at the “isolation cabin table,” a small stable in the farthest corner of the mess hall. The staff had set it aside specifically for them, as if to let everyone know that they were troublemakers. But to the twins, it felt like it was their own private headquarters, a place where they could whisper and plan without anyone overhearing.

One afternoon, with the other campers busy with archery and canoeing, Sofia and Julianna were seated at their table, surrounded by a scattered pile of photographs, notepaper, and a few hastily drawn diagrams.

“Alright,” Sofia said, leaning over one of the photos, her eyes focused. “This is Papa’s sister. Tía Lorena, and she’s a doctor. She really loves giving expensive gifts, so she pretty much spoils us rotten.” She pointed to a woman in the photograph, a glamorous brunette with a gorgeous smile.

Jullianna raised an eyebrow. “How expensive?”

“Well, considering she’s very successful, gifts like Chanel, Bvlgari, Dior, and YSL to name a few.” Sofia explained. “Though I’m thankful for the gifts, I'm never really the type of girl to bask myself in luxury items, though I know very well that once she meets you as Jullianna, you’ll really get along well. Since you’re so…posh.”

She looked at Sofia, sending her a playful offended look. “I’m not posh. But got it, an expensive aunt who gives posh gifts. Noted.”

They exchanged stories, going back and forth, each trying to explain the intricacies of their own families. Sofia’s face softened as she looked over at Jullianna, sensing the curiosity in her eyes every time she spoke of their father.

“Look,” Sofia said, reaching over and handing her a photo of Fernando, smiling and holding up a trophy on the podium. “This is Papa at his happiest, when he’s racing. That’s what he lives for, and I think he’d rather be on the track than anywhere else.”

Jullianna gently took the photo from Sofia, studying it closely. She noticed the proud look in Fernando’s eyes, the way he seemed to radiate energy and excitement.

“He looks…different than I expected. He looks…younger.” Jullianna said, looking at the photo with a longing smile.

“Yeah,” Sofia replied softly, her gaze turning a bit wistful. “That’s the side of him I wish you could have seen sooner. I think you’d like him very much, and he’s also very funny. Cracking a bunch of dad jokes.”

Jullianna gave her a small nod, tucking the photo away carefully in her notebook. It was her turn, and she held up a photo of you, looking radiant at a charity gala, draped in a timeless gown, surrounded by a sea of admiring eyes.

“This is Mama at one of her events. She’s, well, she’s always the center of attention, but not in a loud way. She doesn’t have to try, people just…gravitate to her.” Jullianna explained, and pulled out a photo again. It was one of your poster ads for Dior, where you had been asked to be their brand ambassador.

Sofia stared at the photo, her face filled with wonder, and whispered. “She looks like a queen.”

“She kind of is,” Jullianna replied with a laugh. “She can be strict, though. Like, if my room isn’t perfect, I always hear about it.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Papa’s the opposite. He barely notices if there’s a mess, as long as it’s not his stuff.”

“Also, before I forget,” Jullianna pulled out a photo of your sister. “This is Tante Clarisse, older sister. She’s a really cool aunt, very adventurous, and I know that when she meets you as you, you’ll get along really well.”

“Would you look at that, our parents have the exact opposite of their siblings.” Both of the twins laughed at Sofia’s remarks. “But tell me more about Mama, what is the first thing she does every morning?”

“Hmm, the first thing Mama does every morning is make tea. Always black tea, no milk, just a bit of honey. She stands by the window, looking out at the garden while she drinks it.” Jullianna smiled.

“Got it,” Sofia nodded, mentally filing each detail away. “What is she like? I mean, what’s she like when it’s just you two?”

“Well, she’s calm. Gentle, but not in a weak way. She’s strong, you’d see it in the way she handles everything, like she’s always a step ahead of everyone else.” Jullianna’s face softened, voice becoming wistful. “It’s like everything is just…right. She’s amazing, really.”

“She sounds wonderful.” Sofia murmured, almost to herself.

“But anyway, your turn!” Jullianna quickly cleared her throat, wanting to break the quiet weight between them. “What’s Papa like? I mean, really like, not just what you tell people.”

“Oh, Papa…he’s complicated.” Sofia leaned back in her chair, a smile tugging at her lips. “Always has a million things going on in his head, but he’s also weirdly sentimental. Like, he keeps these little trinkets, souvenirs from places he’s raced.”

“He doesn’t say much, but he’s always present. When he’s around, you know he’s paying attention, like you’re the only person in the world.” She added.

Jullianna tilted her head, trying to picture the man she had only known in glimpses, piecing together this new layer of Sofia was giving her. You never really liked to talk about Fernando, and Jullianna just gave up on asking you about him, the picture was already enough for her to know that she has a father.

“That sounds…really nice.” She said softly, almost as if she were testing the words.

Sofia grinned, a little twinkle of pride in her eyes. “Yeah, he’s…he’s special. But don’t tell him I said that, or he’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

The two of them shared a quiet laugh, finding comfort in the strange, shared bond they were piecing together over their parents.

As they continued trading details, Sofia would occasionally quiz Jullianna. “So, what does Papa do on Sunday mornings when it’s his off-season?”

“You both spend time at Abuelo and Abuela’s home, and go to his private race track for a few sessions.” Jullianna replied confidently.

“Close enough,” Sofia said, satisfied.

“Alright, your turn. What’s Mama’s favorite flower?” Jullianna asked.

Sofia paused, trying to recall the details they had gone over. “Orchids. White ones.”

Jullianna nodded, impressed. “Perfect. She always loved white orchids, didn’t she? She even has one in her home office and bedroom.”

It was strange, Jullianna thought, to feel this kind of connection to someone she had never known, to see these glimpses of her family through Sofia’s stories. She could see Sofia had felt the same, a mix of wonder and longing that neither of them could fully explain.

Sofia suddenly leaned over the table, meeting Jullianna’s eyes. “You know, if this works, if we really pull this off, we’re going to know more about each other’s families than they know about us.”

“Good. That means we’re doing it right.” Jullianna smiled, her eyes glinting with the spark of shared adventure.

During a late evening, as the moon illuminated inside of the isolation cabin’s window, Sofia glanced over at Jullianna with a look of steely determination.

“You know, if we’re going to pull this off, we have to go all in.” She said, her gaze flickering to Jullianna’s long, wavy hair.

“No way! You want me to cut it?” Jullianna reached up, fingers grazing her dark, carefully maintained locks. “I don’t think I can do that. Mama…she loves my hair.”

“I get it, but my hair’s short,” Sofia sighed, her face softening for a moment. “And you can’t exactly show up with long hair when it’s supposed to be, well, me. You’re the one who said she’s notice things, right? The tiniest details?”

Sofia pointed to her own short-cropped style, which was edgy and practical, shaped by years of living with Fernando’s ‘come as you are’ approach. Jullianna bit her lip, staring at herself in the mirror—it was true, you would instantly pick up on something as obvious as a haircut. But the thought of losing her hair, her one piece of comfort in an otherwise chaotic world, made her heart twist.

Sofia saw the hesitation softened her voice, trying to convince her. “Look, I know it’s hard. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was necessary. Besides, hair grows back, just think of it as…as a part of the adventure.”

“Easy for you to say! You’re used to it.” Jullianna sighed, crossing her arms defensively.

“True. But that’s why I’m asking. If we’re really going to do this, it has to be perfect. Foolproof.” She paused, then added, “and…you’re going to have to get your ears pierced too.”

Jullianna’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. “Wait, what?! Pierced ears?! No. Absolutely not! There is a reason why I never had my ears pierced, despite how Mama told me that I should.”

“Well, Papa definitely won’t let me go back without my ear pierced.” Sofia chuckled, shaking her head. “If you show up with unpierced ears, he’ll notice immediately that it is not his daughter.”

Jullianna groaned, staring back at the mirror. It was more than a little daunting, the idea of changing herself so much for a plan that she was not even sure would work. She had always hated needles so much, that is why despite how much you convince her to have her ears pierced so that she can no longer use magnetic earrings, a simple no would always be her answer. Until you had just stopped convincing him.

But as she glanced over at Sofia, who wore an expression of quiet, almost desperate determination, something softened within her. They were already at 85% of their plan, it’s too late to back out now. This was not just an adventure for Sofia, it was her once in a lifetime chance to meet you—the mother she had never really known.

“Fine, okay.” Jullianna finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s do it.”

Sofia’s face lit up with relief and excitement. She jumped up, giving Jullianna an impulsive hug. “Thank you! This is going to be amazing, I promise!”

Jullianna couldn’t help but smile. The feeling of Sofia’s arms around her, the warmth of this new sisterly bond, somehow made the whole ordeal seem worth it. Worth conquering over her fear of needles.

A few hours later, Julluanna sat stiffly on a wooden chair, with Sofia standing beside her with a pair of scissors that he had managed to borrow from the camp’s art shed. Jullianna closed her eyes, as strands of her long hair tumbled down on the cabin floor.

As the pile of hair grew, Jullianna tried to focus on the bigger picture, on why she was doing this. She kept imagining your reaction when you see her, or rather, when you see Sofia, standing in her place, with every detail exactly right. She imagined what it would be like to stand in her father’s world, if only for a little while.

“Alright,” she said, after what felt like an eternity, Sofia finally stepped back, setting the scissors aside. “Look!”

Jullianna opened her eyes slowly, gazing at her reflection in the cabin mirror. With the shorter, choppy hairstyle, she barely recognized herself, and standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Sofia, she saw it—the uncanny, almost eerie resemblance between them.

“We look…we look so much alike, oh my god.” Jullianna murmured, reaching up to touch her newly short hair.

Sofia grinned, a look of triumph spreading across her face. “Told you, we could pull this off.”

“Alright, you win. I’m all in.” Jullianna couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head.

“Now, for the earrings,” Sofia said, holding up the studs with a small, apologetic smile. “You’re doing great, I promise. This is the last and final step.”

Jullianna clenched her jaw but nodded. “Just make it quick, okay?”

Sofia gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, then carefully pierced her ears with a sharp needle, one at a time. It was quick, a short sting, that felt like a bite of an ant, and then it was over. Jullianna touches her new earrings, feeling their cool surface against her skin.

“There. Now we’re ready!” Sofia grinned, stepping back and looking over.

They both stood together in front of the mirror, side by side, transformed into mirror images of each other, the plan they had once imagined as impossible now felt inevitable.

It was already the last day of camp. The final morning was thick with an anxious energy, as if the summer had conspired with the twins’ hearts to make this moment feel both thrilling and terrifying. They had come a long way from that heated tennis match, and now, every glance, every movement was carefully practiced to be someone else. It was very strange and surreal, to think that they were about to walk into the lives they had only ever imagined, guided only by each other’s stories, photos, and memories.

Sofia glanced at the small suitcase she had packed with Jullianna’s things. Her fingers trembled slightly as she zipped it up, feeling the weight of what they were about to do settle heavily in her stomach. She had dreamt about meeting you so many times, but now that the moment was within reach, the reality was daunting. She was about to step into a world so different from her own. What if I slipped up? What if you noticed right away?

“Hey, you’re going to do great. Just remember what we practiced. You’ve got this.” Jullianna said softly, offering a reassuring smile.

Sofia looked at her, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. “What if she realized it’s not you the second I walk through the door? You told me that she notices everything.”

“You’ll be okay,” Jullianna replied, trying to project confidence. “And if anything feels off, just call me, okay? I’ll be there. It’s just a summer, long enough to get some answers, but not so long that anyone gets hurt.”

At that moment, Stella’s voice called out through the megaphone, her tone brisk, business-like. “Jullianna Young! Your car’s here, we’re ready when you are!”

“That’s you!” Jullianna said as they shared a quick, almost panicked look. Her voice became urgent as she pressed her passport and plane ticket into Sofia’s hands, along with her small backpack. “Here. You’re going to need these. Remember, look through all the photos in my journal, it’s where I keep everything, all my photos of who’s who, little habits, and notes. It should be able to help you.”

Sofia nodded as she took a deep breath. “Don’t forget to find out why they split up. I don’t remember much, but I think…I think it’s important.”

“I’ll do my best.” Jullianna’s expression softened. “And Sofia, make sure you keep up with my French homework, alright? Mama won’t let you hear the end of it if you slip, and give her a big hug for me.” She forced a small laugh, trying to mask her own nerves.

“Ms. Young! The car is waiting, come on.” Stella’s voice interrupted again, a touch more insistent this time.”

“Good luck, Jullianna,” she whispered as she hugged Jullianna tightly, one last time. “Thank you for giving me this chance. Please hug Papa for me, as well.”

“Good luck to you too,” Jullianna hugged her back with the same intensity, feeling a surge of emotions she hadn’t expected. “And I will. Remember, it’s just summer. But make the most of it, okay?”

Sofia nodded, blinking back the sudden sting of tears, and with one last look at Jullianna, she walked towards the car and went inside. Jullianna stood there, left with a mixture of excitement, fear, and a strange sense of loss as the car drove away.

Jullianna was about to meet her father in a couple of hours, for the first time as herself but not quite herself, to step into a world she knew through faded photos and stories whispered late at night.

[roseghoul26]

Hello! I would like to request Cooper Howard x gn!reader (post war, because...murderous cowboy...hnnngh), where they struggle with mental health issues like depression? I've been in a really tough spot, having no energy or motivation to do anything or really any desire to take care of myself. So I was thinking, maybe the reader's mental health is declining, they're slower and sloppier when it comes to keeping up with Cooper and he's more and more frustrated. Then one day he has enough (maybe the reader is taking too long packing up) and threatens to leave them and they're just...passive, because they really don't care anymore about what happens to them. So he realises they haven't been taking care of themselves properly for a while now and then some soft moments with him? I know this is pretty dark and you can change this however you'd like, but I'm dying for some hurt/comfort with this man 🥺 It's totally cool if it's too much for you, if you decide to not write this, please just let me know, so I don't wait for it. Thank you so much, I love your Cooper fics <3

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x gn!Reader

Synopsis: You’ve been struggling lately, putting both you and your traveling companion in danger. He was bound to confront you about it eventually. Tags: Prompt Request, Not Beta Read, Gender Neutral Reader, Depression, Mental Health, Mentions of Suicide, Disagreements, Comfort, Lazy Day, Cuddling, Beginning Relationships Author's Note: Trigger warning for topics relating to mental health, such as depression and suicide. Please do not read if you’re not in a good mental space. Take care of yourselves. Also, everyone’s experience with depression and mental health issues differs, so I am writing this story the way I experience it. Also, this was a fun challenge to write. Like how the hell would he approach a topic like this? It’s been fun to explore his character like that, and I hope I did it justice. Thank you so much for the request! <333

You used to be able to keep up with the Ghoul. 

Wherever he went, you followed, tearing through the Wastleland without hindrance. You watched his back, and he yours, a security that was unheard of in this world. It was a trusting friendship, bordering on something else, something that neither of you had crossed yet. You couldn't compete with over a hundred years of experience with a gun, but you were able to hold your own quite well. You were a decent shot and someone who never let anyone get the drop on you, senses always sharp. 

So when you started missing easy targets and found yourself surprised by opponents one too many times, you knew it was a matter of time before the Ghoul started asking questions and not believing the first lie that you said. The first time it had happened, you blamed it on your lack of sleep, and he seemed to buy it. And maybe you convinced yourself it was just a lack of sleep, ignoring the darkness that had begun to emerge in your mind. You just needed to rest, was what you told yourself. 

It happened again a few days later, completely missing a target in front of you. Your reactions had begun to slow down, too, unable to avoid the swing of a blade, cutting across your cheek. It was like your body gave up on wanting to move, an unbearable weariness to your muscles that you were unable to shake. Later, as you bandaged the wound on your cheek, the Ghoul confronted you, demanding to know why you were acting so sloppy. You’d merely shrugged, offering up the idea that you were sick. This time he seemed less convinced, yet he had let the matter go. 

You knew why you were acting the way you were. You weren’t unfamiliar with depression, far from it. It was something you’d dealt with your entire life, coming and going like waves. You’d go days, weeks, months and you’d be fine, but then a flip would switch. You’d lose your energy, your motivation, wanting nothing more than to just lay on the ground and never get back up. You’d stop taking care of your body. You’d lose your appetite. Your thoughts would turn dark, ideations and ideas flashing in your mind, things that you’d never tell another soul. 

For the months you’d been traveling with the Ghoul, you’d been able to keep a reign on your depression. Sure, you had your off days, but nothing like this. It was like the universe was punishing you for having such an excellent past months. 

But how could you explain this to your traveling partner? How could you explain that you didn’t have the energy to continue existing, to continue fighting? He needed you to be alert, to not have your thoughts occupied with something, that in perspective to the Wasteland around you, was trivial. 

So you kept your mouth shut, forcing yourself to appear alert and unaffected. You forced those thoughts to the back of your mind. You forced your body to move, no matter how much it screamed at you to just be still.

But it seemed that all that bottling your thoughts up did was make it worse. As the days dragged on, you stopped talking, only muttering small words whenever the Ghoul asked you a question. You’d normally spend the time traveling conversing, and the Ghoul did try to initiate a conversation with you, but no amount of questions and joking and jabs could get you to break. Eventually, he fell quiet too.

Sleeping became a challenge. You’d think with how exhausted your body felt, you’d be able to sleep easily, but the opposite was true. Hours would tick by, and you’d lie awake, getting up the next morning more exhausted than before you went to bed. Your face, already a bit gaunt from living such a difficult life, had grown even more so, the circles around your eyes darkening and your lips growing more chapped. 

You stopped eating, turning away the food he offered you. After you went a few days without eating more than a bite, he practically forced spoonfuls of food into your mouth, snapping at you the entire time. It was humiliating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to change. You just wanted to be done. 

You could tell that your demeanor was starting to annoy the hell out of the Ghoul, whose words had turned shorter and snappier. If you took too long, he’d grab you by the shoulder and drag you along, like an upset parent with their child. Your cheeks would burn every time, tears pickling your eyes, and you’d hang your head. 

There was a tension growing between you and the Ghoul, your friendship growing thin. His guard was up constantly, unable to trust you any longer to watch his back, which hurt you more than any knife or gun. Soft glances disappeared, his gaze scrutinizing when he looked at you. Light touches from him reserved for when you were at rest were no more, as you chose to keep to yourself every night. Instead of walking side-by-side, you’d linger a few feet behind him. You pretended like it was easier this way, to make him push you away, but it was tearing you apart. 

But eventually, that tension snapped. Too many close calls, too many sluggish movements, too many half-hearted excuses finally made him break. You’d just gotten up for the day, another sleepless night behind you, and you were packing up your few belongings. You must’ve been taking too long, because you heard him sigh audibly, standing in the open doorway of the room you’d sheltered in for the night. “What’s your fuckin’ issue?” He growled, arms crossed tight over his chest.

You looked up, feigning confusion. “I dunno what-”

“Bullshit,” he cut you off. He began to walk towards you, his steps methodical, threatening. “You’ve been actin’ like this for weeks, and you’ve only offered me half-assed excuses.” He was seething, and understandably so. He crouched down in front of you, rendering you unable to escape. “So, you,” he stuck a finger in your chest, barely avoiding hitting you, “are gonna tell me why. And don’t even think ‘bout lyin’, sweetheart.”

You swallowed, heart hammering in your chest at the confrontation. Words flooded your mind, a full explanation on the tip of your tongue, yet you just couldn’t bring yourself to utter it. Your mouth opened and closed, struggling, until you eventually just gave up. Sighing, you just shook your head, which pissed him off even more. 

A disbelieving laugh left him, and he ran a gloved hand over his face. “No? You’re kiddin’ me, right?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Ya know, I’ve tried to be lenient. I bought into your fuckin’ lies that you were ‘just tired’, ‘just sick’. I tried to give ya space, to give ya time to get out of this. But you’re gonna get us both killed if ya don’t fix yourself. I can’t be distracted out there, constantly worried ‘bout you and keepin’ you alive, ‘cause it seems like that’s the last thing on your mind.”

He took a breath, steadying his rising voice. “So I’m gonna give ya one more chance to explain yourself, or else I’m leavin’ without ya.”

“Then leave.” Your response came almost immediately, your voice lacking any inflection. Even though in the back of your mind you were screaming at him not to leave, you kept an air of indifference about you, unable to make yourself care. It would be easier if he just left, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t be putting anyone else in danger, and you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt you felt of him worrying about you so much. And it would be so much easier to just disappear if there was no one looking for you.

He wasn’t expecting that as a response if the look on his face told you anything. His brow muscles were raised, leaning back from you in shock. But the way he was watching you, it was like he was observing you in a different light, dots beginning to connect in his mind. “You’ll die out there without me.” 

You merely shrugged your shoulders, glancing down to continue packing your belongings, no longer able to look him in the eye. He didn’t respond, simply standing up with a sigh. You didn’t look up, not even as you heard him walk away, backing towards the entrance of the room. You didn’t look up, even as you heard the surprisingly gentle click of the door as it shut. You didn’t look up, even as the tears that you’d been holding for the past weeks finally fell.

You were alone.

You thought it would make you feel better like there would be a weight lifted off your shoulders. But everything just felt heavier, the thoughts in your mind becoming a tempest, making you physically weak. Expletives tumbled from your lips as you sagged down onto your arms, head hung. Of course, he’d fucking leave, you idiot. No one wants to deal with your moping.

A part of you wanted to chase after him, to beg him to stay, but you already felt pathetic enough. You couldn’t blame him for leaving, not at all. You were weighing him down, putting his life in danger; he said so himself. He could only deal with you for so long. You should be grateful that he didn’t leave sooner.

The sound of rustling fabric made you jump, finally looking up. The Ghoul had taken off his jacket, laying it across the back of the couch he had slept on, never having left the room at all. Stunned, you watched him sit, taking his hat off in the process and setting it on the floor. He finally caught your eye then, a soft look on his face, a look you hadn’t seen in a long while. 

“I thought you left,” you whispered, sitting back upright. Embarrassment warmed your cheeks, and you tried to wipe the tears that had fallen on them. 

“I ain’t leavin’ ya, sweetheart.”

“Why not?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you want me to go?” You’d never shaken your head faster in your life. “Then I’m stayin’.”

“But why?”

He sighed. “‘Cause I care ‘bout you. I… Is that too hard to believe?”

It is. Unable to find words, you just shrugged again. 

Something akin to regret or remorse flashed across his face, and muttering something under his breath he reclined against the couch. He was upset, but even now you could tell it was not because of you, at least not fully. “C’mere,” he murmured, patting the couch beside him. “You look like you’re gonna fuckin’ bolt at any second.”

Taking a steadying breath, you complied, albeit with some difficulty, your legs barely wanting to function. His gaze didn’t leave you once, as much as you wished it would, making you want to collapse in on yourself. The walk to the couch felt like it was miles long, but you eventually made your way over to it and him. 

He rolled his eyes when you just stood there in front of him, unsure of what to do with yourself. “Sit down, I ain’t gonna fuckin’ bite.” In another situation, you knew he’d add some comment like unless ya want me to, but he bit his tongue. The couch groaned as you sat next to the Ghoul, keeping a foot between your bodies. “Talk to me,” he commanded, yet his voice was gentle. “What the hell’s goin’ on?”

You picked at the skin around your nails, no doubt drawing blood. “I’m… I’m not quite sure how to explain it,” you responded, and you expected your words to upset the man even more. But he nodded his head slowly, an almost understanding look on his face. “I’m just… done."

“Done with… what? Bein’ out on the road?” You shook your head. “Travellin’ with me?” You shook your head again, this time more vehemently. “Done with what?” You knew that he knew the answer to his question, but he wanted you to say it.

“I’m done with… with existing. I just can’t bring myself to care anymore. I’m just so tired of it all.” You sagged back against the couch like speaking took a toll on your body. “I’m so tired.”

He didn’t respond for a while, mulling over your words. “That… that explains a lot,” he chuckled humourlessly. “Your mind won’t just leave ya the hell alone, will it? It's like all your mind can focus on are these terrible fuckin’ things, no matter what ya do. And it just weighs on ya, like a million pounds, getting worse with every passin’ day until you just wanna… give up.”

He explained it perfectly, and you cocked your head to the side, a bit confused about how he was able to do so. “I ain’t a stranger to what you’re goin’ through. We’re well fuckin’ acquainted, to say the least. So I shoulda recognized it sooner with ya.” 

He paused, sighing. “Wanna know somethin’?” You nodded. “I was too busy thinkin’ ‘bout what I did to upset ya that I didn’t bother to think of any other possible reason as to why you’re actin’ the way you are. But once I realized it wasn’t my fault, not entirely, instead of bein’ there for ya, I was an ass. I thought, because I’m a damn idiot, that you were just mopin’ around for the hell of it, putting us both in danger simply ‘cause you were tired or some shit. Not once did I stop to think why. And I apologize.”

“You don’t gotta-” He cut you off with a pointed look. “I… I accept your apology, then.”

He nodded slowly, content. “I’d like to help ya, sweetheart. I know nothin’ I say or do is gonna make it go away like that… but I’d like to try. Whatever ya need from me, and you’ve got it.”

“I’m not sure what I need exactly,” you admitted quietly.

“When ya figure it out, will ya let me know?” You nodded.

“Just… be patient. As difficult as that is for you.” You hadn’t meant for the jab to come out, but you weren’t taking it back. Especially when a loud laugh left the Ghoul, making a smile of your own appear on your face. It was faint, yet it was there.

An almost starstruck expression appeared on his face, his laughter dying out. “I missed seein’ ya smile,” he murmured as if it was a subconscious thought.

You ducked your head, making him laugh again. “As for bein’ patient, well, I can be that, if that’s what ya need.”

“It’ll take some time,” you cautioned again, indirectly giving him a chance to back out of this. 

“Time ain’t an issue. I’ll wait as long as it fuckin’ takes.”

“You mean it?” Your voice was so soft, barely audible to either of you. 

You watched as one of his gloved hands inched towards you, palm upturned. Tentatively, you placed your in his, eyes growing wide when he brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. “I swear,” he uttered, sealing the promise with another press of his lips.

As you returned your tingling hand to your lap, his eyes scanned over your face, a furrow appearing between his brow. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten somethin’? Somethin’ that I didn’t force ya to eat,” he added when you opened your mouth to respond. 

Your silence said enough, and he leaned down to his bag, which he had placed beside the couch when he sat. After a few moments of rustling through, he handed you a small bag of what appeared to be jerky, as well as a small canteen of water. “It ain’ human,” he added when you eyed the bag suspiciously before taking it.

The jerky was salty and tough when you took a bite, not quite wanting to, but unable to not eat under his gaze. You ate in silence until your stomach was full and your teeth hurt from the tough material. Taking a swig of water, you could feel your eyes growing heavy, eating seemingly draining your energy more than replenishing it. Stifling a yawn, you shoved the canteen back into his hand, and you noticed he had an almost pleased look on his face. 

You were confused, though, when he stood, making his way to the entrance of the room. For a moment, those thoughts flashed in your mind that told you that he was finally leaving, that he realized how pathetic you were. But instead of doing any of those things, you watched as he simply wedged a chair under the handle of the door, like he had done before you went to bed for the night. 

“What’re you doing?”

“We takin’ the day off. Doctor’s orders.”

“But aren’t we supposed to be in Filly in a few days?”

“We’ll be fine. You are gonna spend today catchin’ up on some much-needed rest.” He stood in front of you now, a moth-eaten blanket in his hands. 

“And what are you gonna do?” You asked, and he shrugged. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. Go ‘head, lie down.”

Your eyes quickly scanned the couch, and you took a deep breath before speaking again. “The couch is big enough for us both, no?”

For the second time that day, you’d stunned him with your responses. “Is… is that what ya want?”

Encouraged that he hadn’t just outrightly said no, you nodded your head, and a fond look crossed his features. He handed you the blanket before sitting once more, but instead of his back being against the cushions, he rested it against one of the armrests, not before tucking a pillow in front of it. 

Once he was situated, he opened up his arms to you, and you could’ve laughed at how uncertain he looked. Hands rested on your body when you laid down, head on his chest, laying on your stomach, and you made sure the blanket covered both your bodies as best you could. You weren’t too worried about covering all of you, though, with the sheer amount of warmth he was radiating. 

His eyes were already on you when you glanced up, a smile pulling at his lips. “Comfy?”

“Yes.” Your voice was barely audible, but he heard it. 

You felt his fidget with something in his hand behind your back, but you didn’t have to wait long to find out what he was doing. You felt fingers run along your scalp, making you shudder, before combing through any hair there. “Alright?”

You sighed contently, nodding your head before letting it fall back onto his chest. He continued to run his fingers there, his other hand tracing patterns across your shoulders. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until now, finding it hard to keep your eyes open. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. Safe from the world outside this room. Safe from the thoughts that plagued your mind. Safe from everything. 

He didn’t have to see your face to know that you were struggling to stay awake. “Go to bed. I’ll be here when you wake.”

“Promise?”

“Ain’t fuckin’ like I’m gonna be able to get up,” he chuckled, before taking a more serious tone. “I promise.”

That was all you needed to hear before you finally let the final strings of consciousness leave your grasp. Before you lost control of all your senses, though, you felt him lean down, pressing a barely-there kiss to the top of your head. “You’ll get through this, sweetheart.”

You believed him.

[medicdoodles]

DRAtchet week 2022 Day 6: Indiscreet Photo.

(First Day)||(Day 5)||(Day 7)||(Last Day)

In which Deadlock's and Ratchet's relationship is told in snapshots but maybe they should see who behind the camera.

After all of that fighting done that night, Deadlock managed to keep Ratchet. More than that he finally, finally has Ratchet's permission to enter his home. They actually started to move in together. Even though Ratchet's house has no furnishings or even a bed, this is pure bliss.

So the first thing he moves over to the house is the bed. Not because Deadlock can't handle the floor but because Ratchet is going to have recover for the next few weeks. They found a chop shop that could fix up almost all of the damage from the muggings. Everything except his hands.

All of the technical aspects go over his head, but the jest of it is that the wiring will mimic the exoskeleton. However it will always be five nanoseconds delayed. It wasn't much and to a normal mech the difference wasn't even noticeable, but Ratchet. Ratchet notices instantly, he ran five simple tests and picked up on how much slower his new hand is.

He's grateful, none of the mechanics think he isn't. However, Ratchet asks if they could just allow him to repair his shattered hands. So coming home every night he sees Ratchet sitting down on the bed, trying to navigate fixing it.

Deadlock can really see how much those five nanoseconds matters. How much slower and sloppy his work is. Before he used to be as gentle as snow, but now he can barely hold his hand in the air.

He is proud of Ratchet, the mech might have been ready to give up on them, but he was always determined to healing. It will take a lot of work and practice to get him back in tip top shape, but Deadlock knows that if anyone could rebound it's him.

Last night Ratchet made a big break through. He got two of the fingers to work, they're still unreliable, certainly not ready for any kind of work. However, Deadlock believes this is a good enough reason to celebrate. "Trust me. This place has really good Electric Indium Rocks."

"But what if I don't like Electric treats." Ratchet hooks his new working arm his and rest his head against his chest as they walk down the street. A date, a real and honest date. While the first time at the club was nice, this one is honest.

"You can order something else. I'll just eat what you don't want." Deadlock opens the door to the and leads Ratchet to sit at the table on the back wall. Walking away to set their order was harder than he expected it to be. The Ratchet shaped cold spot makes the distance worse but it isn't long before he goes back.

Sitting to make sure that any bad actors would have to get through him before they could touch Ratchet. "There's an open seat over right there." Ratchet makes a pointed look at the sad looking barstool across from them.

"Yeah?" He laughs it off. No point in letting Ratchet convince him to switch seats. "Well since you said that you don't like Electric so I got some Lithium Ion and Battery Ooze." Placing the bag that the assistant gave him all of the treats scatter on the table.

"That looks like more than those two." Ratchet picks up the round one that is rolling towards the edge of the table. Eating the whole thing in one go, shaking his head from the strong sour taste.

"Maybe you should let me pick them." He shouldn't be laughing, it's not very romantic, but-

"I think you've done enough choosing." Ratchet moves to take the one Deadlock was starting at. Holding it up to his lips, shaking it back and forth, but his hand freezes up, dropping it. He stays still, not one word. Keeping his hand in the same position, shame seeping out of his field.

"Here." Deadlock picks up one of the cooper nuggets and feeds it to him. He can feel his chapped lips, his warmth breath, and soft gaze. "I think you'll like this one better."

That's how they spent the night. Deadlock picking up whatever snack he deemed tasty and feeding it to him. Watching the flickering of emotion as different flavors cross his tongue. The way his thoat works and the ever growing fuel filling him up. It states a more primal instinct and knowing that it was he who fills his lover. Well it's a good thing that he moded his panels to stay lockdown until he turns the code off.

"I shouldn't have eaten so much." Ratchet puts his fist in front of his mouth to keep to fuel in. "I don't think I can drive let alone walk back." Primus he is cute enough to eat.

"I don't know..." Deadlock let's his engine purr. "You can afford to eat more." He rubs Ratchet's plating. "I don't mind carrying you home."

Ratchet gives him that cute little pout. "With your weak ankles, ya right."

"The two of you were very cute. Right Deadlock?" Was the caption on the photo.

---

More time passes and Ratchet has fixed enough of his hand that all fingers are moving. He still has trouble holding things and they start to shake if they stay up for to long. It was a huge improvement, but more than that it gave Ratchet back his confidence. He even had gain that sassy sawy when he walks. The air of authority comes back to full force as he goes back to repairing mechs off the streets.

Tonight, the two of them are heading back to the shop. As Ratchet's has to go through one more exam before they clear him for duty. Bracing himself as the enter the shop, the deep smell of blood never truly goes away. "Well wer here." He bangs on the chains hanging on the wall.

"Cool your thrusters." A saw blades starts spinning, "We'll be ready in a bit." Another spark lights the corner of the room and he swears he can hear someone screaming in pain.

"Have a seat." Ratchet took his hands and drags Deadlock to the seat next to him. "We can make out while we wait."

"Huh?" He turns to face him only to get a sight full of Ratchet's smile, was he teasing him.

"Oh no you don't." The red sports car comes from the other side of the room. His paint is always emasculate, and at first Deadlock didn't trust him to be an actual doctor. "If Breakdown and I can't make out at work than neither can you." He makes his way towards Ratchet, bending down to hold up his hand and running scans. If Deadlock is jealous only Ratchet notices as he just sends him a smug look.

"What's the diagnosis, Knockout?"

"Good." He flips the hand over and starts testing his sensitivity. "In fact you fixed this to almost match the original specs. Practically made a miracle." Deadlock puts his hand on his thighs to express his pride. "Impressive."

"Let me see." Breakdown comes from upstairs and joins the three of them. "Yeah." He takes the hand from Knockout and gives it a stress test. "You may need a bit more time for all of the sensors to work but yeah great work."

"Choppshop." Knockout whistles for the owner to come over. A big mech or rather a group of mini insecticons that form the hulking mech. His two sets of eyes stare deeply into Ratchet's hand as the silicone hairs press against it. "So?"

"He'd save us a lot on supplies, and I ain't got time to reformat alloy."

"What's going on?" Deadlock takes a look at Ratchet. The exchange between him and the rest of the crew is suspicious.

"I ment to tell you." Ratchet moves to run his fingers down his thighs, comforting him. "I was thinking about joining the shop." He looks down keeping gaze away from his. "You know- to help others." It wasn't him asking permission, at least not yo Deadlock. More like he was asking Choppshop to join and is telling him as a formality.

"I get it Ratch." He links their hands together.

"Then let's update the staff picture." Breakdown pulls out a camera hands it over to Deadlock and pushes him out. The rest of the mechs pose themselves around Ratchet. Look at him with a knowing smile as they wait for him to take the photo.

"Say Gasoline."

"This is the place your Ratchet works, correct?" The caption of this group photo reads.

----

Another long, painful shift, Deadlock and the rest of the stunt crew get a half jorn break to refuel and stretch out their legs. Today has been especially tough since two of the main actors switched acts and now they have to start training all over again.

Another dent fender and a twist bumper. He is one of the lucky ones as the guy next to him as a burnt interior filters, with his tire sticking out of his chassis. The other bot in front of him has it worst as he caught the preform in root mode. His axel is twisted and his hip dislocation, he won't be able to transform until that gets fixed.

There's suddenly the crowd starts to whisper, commenting on a new vehicle that is headed this way. In fact it looks a lot like-

"Hey Drift." The mech behind him shoves his shoulder to grab his attention. "You see that bot? The alt mode looks kinda cute no?"

He doesn't get a chance to reply as said vehicle transforms in front of them. To his surprise Ratchet is here and Deadlock realizes that this is the first time he's ever seen his alt mode. It was another shock that he really was not an ambulance. "What are you doin here?"

"I had some extra time." Ratchet then pulls out a crate wrapped up in organic fabric. It was red, with gold hearts, clearly Knockout's but cute. "I figured we could have lunch together." He turns his face away from him, and Primus is he blushing. "To be honest," Ratchet keeps his head away but his eyes come back to look at him. "Breakdown suggested this, and I didn't have anything better."

Maybe it was the heat of the day, or the bruise of his battle scar, but Deadlock can feel his vents kick into high gear. "Yeah." Oh that was the wrong thing as the bot he was talking to face palms. "Here." He takes Ratchet's hands and tries to guide him to sit down on the floor next to him. That was until his bumper starts acting up and tumbles onto the ground hard.

"What happened?" Ratchet drops down to examine the situation. Putting both hands on eithet side of his shoulder to turn him over. The light of the sun makes a ring around his head, like straight out of a dream. That is palling in comparison to the genuine concern in his eyes as he waits for a response.

"Just my fender acting up." He manages to sit normally. Ratchet rushes to his side, he wraps himself around him. Deadlock closes his eyes and waits for the gentle touch. So it's a hard wake up when Ratchet digs into where his vehicle front is stored. He yanks out his fender and with his two hands untwists it. "Ouch." He tries to hold back a yell.

"Sorry." Ratchet gives him a hug, rubbing his face on his chest and planting a kiss.

A whistle brakes the moment. "What's a mech got to do to earn something like that?" Deadlock's coworker says as he continues to watch the two of them. When he coughs and the smoke from the wreckage comes out of his mouth, Ratchet is pulling away.

"What's wrong with you?"

"You tell me." The bot stands up and the rubber from the tire sticks out. No other words is said as Ratchet makes his way to the mech and starts to get to work. Unfortunately, more of the crew came to get repairs. It ate into their lunch, and by the time Ratchet was finished the sun went down and most of the circus left.

"I'm sorry Deadlock." Ratchet gives him another hug.

"It's alright. I got a nice view of you at work." A blush creep up on his face and Primus he was so cute. Cute enough to eat, and he would have if he doesn't have work tomorrow.

"Hey you two." The both of them both follow the voice that calls for them. When they both tracked it the a mech with a camera took their picture. "Here." He sent the image forward. "I figured that I should give you something as thanks." He raised his arm and bent it to show it was fixed now.

"Hmph." Ratchet steps away from him. "Just don't do anything reckless. I don't want to come back to fix it."

We wouldn't want the Ring Leader to know that his new medic is swapping paint with the Decepticon's most prominent weapon. Right?

-----

"So... Deadlock." Ratchet stands at the front of the door, ready to head out for work. They haven't had much time together, this had been the only day in the last few months. "I've been giving it a lot of thought." He lifts his head to look at him but his eyes shift elsewhere. "And maybe it's too early for you but. We should move in together."

Those words ring loudly in his head. It shouldn't matter much, the two of them sleep together here on their off days. While yeah, it wasn't often, it was just enough that Ratchet trust him to rest next to him. The idea to have him everyday, to hold him, to be able to watch him fall asleep and wake up to him. "Uhh yeah." He answers so eloquently. "I'll get all my stuff ready to your place by next week."

Ratchet gives him the most beautiful, genuine smile ever. The world turns perfectly and the sun shines ever brighter. "Okay. I'll get the house ready for you. Tomorrow I'll give you the passcode and a key."

The times the photo has no caption. It's just a grainy picture of Ratchet opening the door to their appartment. A letter behind it has today's date, a list of mechs and the bounty amount. It has no signature, no contact information. The photos were a clear sign that they have ways of tracking him down. More important, they were threatening Ratchet and once he gets out of this mess he will deal with them.

"I'll do it." Deadlock looks at the two goons in front of him. He left his blasters at home and they don't hand theirs over. "But then you already knew that." If he wasn't tied up in the chair he was sitting in he would have attacked them.

It was the first sign that his weakness would put Ratchet in danger. The beginning of the end.

[thecolorfulloko]

its modelo time she said

the following takes place close enough to hear the waves break natural oils salt washed and golden skin sun baked our dirty heads soaking up the minerals together sinking into the water and drying out on the sand where the living breathing ocean spares us from going any further beached as it made for the shore stacks of buildings strand along the coast in one of many communities that carve into the edge of her country here ive headed for the summer already mistaken for a native she let me crash in her hammock introduced me to her circle i dont know why i fool myself everyone is only out to see her shes got connections all around the square social currency to get us into the best parties well spent on the most potent i can experience we’re polishing our third eyes picking up higher vibrations wiping away the clouds my mind has a clear view im looking down at the deep like a wellness retreat i found it making sense the rush in my heart when i hear the soul in her records beats to fall in love to what she produces is plentiful a shine she carries bright a glow to her face that reflects shes got the right idea and she really means it and im convinced of the magic she possesses its a potion given in small doses shes sweet as sapote now sometimes its her that i crave we sat on the curb in the plaza she promises she can heal me with herbs the right frequencies and meditation ritualistic methods of relaxation consuming ceremoniously proper respect for the dead before we kiss the especial we can reach the gods and make an offering our devotion through these spiritual interfaces reading from her book of hymns the goal is for the sermons to travel all throughout collective consciousness music is the best way to spread the word i asked for some recommendations she made me a sample worthy mixtape i saved it in my song machine a composer and singer, yours truly and i havent died yet just let me come up a little watch me turn the switch insert the tape set the levels on the EQ now we're talking we style like dub all-stars we've got creative control as long as we hold those crystals we can sustain and we can endure turning up the volume a little ghetto blasting the streets like this swimming through this heat even when the lights turn on up until then we were casual my gold under an open collar the short skirt for Milena my comments were at least respectful and we got down drunker than ever staying out late as we wanted restless legs in the night clubs frame by frame   flashes of her dancing closer to me then it got darker i was close to blacking out but from what i can remember the pitch was lower the tempo was slower i made the move she held on like i was saying goodbye her tears pressed against my cheek thats when she let go of my hand knowing we were more than friends i guess shes better off with her backup plan but her gentleman still bites his tongue and that girl looks cute with anyone even as her relationship began to stagnate a harsh contrast to the honeymoon phase it can be such an ugly feeling to betray Milena says she will love the best she can so this is how it ends and this is how i romanticize everything was perfect for a while everything was right when we were alone i returned still tripping on my feelings drifting in and out of regret staying awake to all of the noise in my head losing touch and recovering from the withdrawals a ways away and im near sighted shes out of focus a million miles from her and i was tempted to send my love but like all my former sidekicks the years passed and corrected dressing us definitely theres no going back and no more rewinding our soundtrack i stopped the tape and put in another   proud of myself for going this far being like i want everyday without a fantasy reality is a fruit ripe to eat oxygen is delicious repeating my affirmations until i fall sleep sometimes dreaming of Milena im swinging in that hammock carried away by the stars underneath my eyelids and i can still taste the sea on my lips

[zaidshair]

The awkward silence and unresponsiveness from Lokni signified one thing: that Lokni did indeed know Tej. If Lokni hadn't, Zaid imagined Lokni would be responding with casual promises at most, or politely offhand hums at least. In the silence, Zaid had a petty, peevish moment: good. Lokni was a decent human being, it seemed. Good guy, good worker, good spirit. Let Lokni wrestle with this dilemma if he wanted. Make Lokni choose a side.

Was Zaid really that confident that he'd win Lokni over, versus Tej? Tej had recently lost his charm on others, Zaid was convinced. Now Tej had grown dulled, unfriendly, deadened. Whereas Zaid believed he could still muster up some charm and vivacity, enough to sway a sweet bloke like Lokni, anyway.

He hummed gently, as Lokni did fess up about his own love life, or lack thereof. Talking about his work colleagues of course, because he knew nothing beyond that. Zaid couldn't fault him that; the restaurant world was Zaid's life. Encountering Tej outside of that world, had been so unique, so electrifying. So un-replicated, with anyone else. Then Lokni pitched a googly, about a bloke on the island!

For a brief, insane second, Zaid thought: Tej didn't hit on Lokni, did he!?

But frivolous chat about love lives were short-lived when they had more pressing emergencies to deal with. (Yet Zaid had made a mental note of it: to be continued. Deffo continued.) and now the fire was licking its way up trees, which definitely seemed alarming. Where was that stupid weirdo bloke, or the bucket line? Nothing was coming to help them. It was just him and Lokni.

"Me do something with what? My stupid heat-blasts? Are you fucking daft? I create heat, I'll make things worse. Should I say it slower for you to understand?" he yelled, a chastise so similar to his explosion at poor Selin, Zaid almost felt bad (almost. Lokni was asking for it!). Zaid also wasn't well-versed in either farming or forestry, and didn't know about the process of controlled fires often used in fields and forests to prevent forest fires.

And somehow, in some wild way, Zaid's lambasting of Lokni seemed to work. It was a miracle in motion, for Zaid to witness Lokni's ability. The way clouds seemed to coalesce above him, not like a cartoon but not like a direct conduit to the entire sky above. Just a sort of...thick viscous fog that, as Lokni started to walk, he carried along with him like a begrudging pet. Rain - beautiful pelting of warmish rain fell n fat soft drops, like tears. The hairs on Zaid's arms raised and he almost laughed at how good it felt. The rain spatter, the hiss and crunch of doused wood, the foggy dreamlike state. The tiny deer bolted away...

...and Lokni was pleading for help.

Hm. Maybe it was time to switch strategy.

So Zaid stepped closer ( carefully around the smoking, damply charred areas) to call out to Lokni. "You know I can't, darling. I'll only make it worse, I'm sorry. I'm useless here. But you - you're - you're doing brilliant, yeah. You can't even see what you've done, can you! The deer's gone! Pissed off safely, just us now, mate. You can do this, yeah? You fucking got this, I'm literally watching you getting this. Just keep walking the circle, that's right. Keep going. Don't stop yet, I'll tell you when to stop, yeah? This rain's unbelievable! It's actually real, it's bloody wild, man!"

Tej and Zaid had been together? Blinking stupidly, Lokni tried to wrap his head around this new revelation. When it sunk in, his ears went hot as blood rushed to his face. Oh Creator, Zaid and Tej had fucked- Suddenly Lokni's phone felt heavier in his pocket, as if Tej would suddenly give him a call, informing the world that Lokni knew exactly who Zaid's ex was. Suddenly Lokni felt stiff with guilt. He thought Tej was a great guy, a little prickly, but every cactus had its own vibrant flowers. At the same time, Zaid hadn't done any harm to Lokni, quite the opposite in fact. Maybe Lokni would keep his connection to both of them as his dirty little secret. They were both decent people from what Lokni gathered, and he didn't want to cut ties unnecessarily. Then again, why had they broken up in the first place? But that was none of Lokni's business.

When Zaid analyzed Lokni's lack of love-life, he felt put on the spot in a way. Unable to meet Zaid's intense eyes, Lokni toed the ground with his boot, as if maybe if he did it enough, eventually he'd make a hole deep enough to disappear into. "Maybe it was- a bit of two of those things. I've been a bit shy- and I'm not quick to notice things like that. I couldn't even tell you what my coworkers thought of me if I tried, and I've been working with those same knuckle-heads for more than a decade now." As he was admitting all of this, his face began to grow almost painfully hot as he remembered a certain person who had expressed interest in him- quite recently in fact. "The only person that I know has been interested me was a man-" he mumbled out, suddenly feeling too vulnerable for his liking. Alex was a looker,' that was undeniable, like most folks on the island. Despite Lokni's own lack of self-confidence and experience, his body had responded. What did that mean? Any extra thoughts that Lokni had were shattered as the columns of flame began to lick up the trees after the deafening crash. With the sudden eruption of chaos, Lokni needed Zaid now more than ever to help quell this wildfire. Visions of the burning plains flared within Lokni's mind, that same sense of panic threatening to bubble over. "What about you- your plasma- Can it put out fire?" Lokni shouted over the roar of the flames. It hadn't seemed flammable when he had witnessed it before, and at this point, he needed all the help he could get. There was no way in hell that he could extinguish this all on his own. Lokni had to hand it to Zaid, the delivery was great. Maybe all that time as a chef calling the big shots had helped him embrace his inner Gordon Ramsey. But now was not the time to thinkin' about that.

Zaid's words stung, echoing throughout his mind. It was true, Lokni led an existence of a whole lot of self-pitying and at the same time accomplishing nothing. Always too preoccupied with staying on neutral ground. Even now, Lokni was keeping secrets, trying to stay on good terms with Tej and Zaid. Pathetic. Damn right, this wasn't high school anymore, and yet there Lokni was, sitting on the bleachers letting life pass by listlessly. Would he ever wake up? The emotion welled within him, his chest felt constricted, as if his bones were made of glass so that if he inhaled too deeply they would shatter and pierce him internally. The baleful bleating of the deer echoed in his ears, reminding him that there wasn't much time. He had to grow the fuck up. Zaid's fingertip against his arm was the only thing he felt for a brief moment, and then it began. An intense stinging rain began to fall with indiscriminate vengeance. He focused on the sensation, letting the pain wash over him. Taking slow steps to not interrupt his concentration. As he walked, the rain followed as if connected by an invisible tether. Carefully, Lokni led the rain over to where the pitiful deer was attempting to escape. The rain began to pelt at the flame-enveloped trees, eliciting little hisses as the rain fought to extinguish the columns of flame. It was beginning to quell the inferno, but it wasn't enough. "Zaid- I could really use some help if you got any fuel in you!" Lokni called out, trying to focus on the rain, but feeling it waver even as he spoke to Zaid.

[timelesslords]

it’s just around the corner darling (‘cause it lives in me)

8-year-old Annabeth is supposed to be sleeping. Instead, she overhears a few things she probably shouldn't.

***

Aka I get very in my feels about pre-TLT found family and baby Annabeth

“She’s a little kid, of course she’s fuckin’ slow.”

Thalia’s words seemed to turn Annabeth’s blood to ice.

She was supposed to be sleeping, and she almost had been before Grover and Thalia had started yelling at each other outside the door of the safe house they’d just barely made it too.

Well, until Thalia had started yelling at Grover, because Grover didn’t really yell, and he definitely didn’t yell at Thalia, who he always seemed particularly nervous and twitchy around.

All thoughts of sleeping were immediately banished as panic seized Annabeth instead.

Read on AO3

She kept herself as still as possible, eyes shut like she was sleeping. She heard Luke shift, maybe looking over his shoulder.

Annabeth wished she could see his face. Did he think she was slow too? Did Grover want to leave her behind? Luke would never let that happen, Annabeth knew that much, but she couldn’t help the guilt from washing over her anyway. Luke had had to carry her the last few miles tonight because her legs just wouldn’t work anymore, not matter how hard she tried to push them. That had only happened a few times ever, Annabeth made sure of it, but she knew they were trying to go fast now, and they were walking and running more than they ever had before. Luke hadn’t been mad, just scooped her up when he saw her stumbling. But they had gone slower after that, and it was her fault.

Annabeth felt her eyes prickle with tears, and she blinked them into her makeshift pillow. Crying was stupid, and it wasnt going to make her faster. She willed herself to stop before anyone could hear— Luke thought she was asleep, and she didn’t want to admit that she wasn’t.

Thalia and Grover were talking again, but their voices were just barely too quiet for her to make out the words. Thalia sounded mad, and Grover was talking fast, like he was trying to get the words out before Thalia yelled at him again. Annabeth picked up Grover saying “please” a few times, and then Thalia saying “no” very forcefully. They argued for another minute, Annabeth’s heart beating in nervous anticipation for each word.

“Don’t bring it up again,” Thalia snapped, loud enough for Annabeth to hear, and then she heard the door of the safe house being pulled back, and soft footsteps walking inside.

“Is she asleep?” Thalia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. It was a sharp contrast from the tone she’d been using outside with Grover. Luke must have nodded, because Thalia sighed, and Annabeth heard her sitting down.

“What was that all about?” Luke asked. Annabeth could hear the forced casual tone he was putting on. If Annabeth had heard part of the conversation then Luke must have too, but he seemed like he wanted Thalia herself to tell him. Thalia made a displeased noise.

“Grover wants me and him to go ahead. Without you two,” she said, lowering her voice even more than she had when she first entered the safe house. Despite how quiet they were, Annabeth could still practically feel the distaste in her words. Annabeth could feel her heart speeding up uncomfortably. Was Thalia going to leave them behind? But she didn’t sound happy about it at all, and that calmed Annabeth’s nerves a little.

“What did you say?” Luke asked. The forced tone was gone, replaced by irritation, Annabeth thought. It was harder to tell without being able to see his expression, but Annabeth could imagine the frown on his face pretty well.

“I told him where he could stick his furry little hooves,” Thalia muttered bitterly. Annabeth didn’t quite understand what that meant, but judging from the way Luke snorted it was probably kind of rude.

“Bet he liked that,” Luke said, sarcastically.

“Whatever. He’s the reason we’re behind anyway,” Thalia said.

She sounded angry. Annabeth knew that shouldn’t make her feel good. Thalia being mad never tended to end well, regardless of where her anger was directed. But Annabeth couldn’t help but feel a rush of relief anyway. If Thalia was angry at Grover’s suggestion then that meant wasn’t leaving.

At the same time, her words filled Annabeth with dread. They were behind, and that was bad, and Annabeth was slowing them down. Even Thalia had said so.

“Why did he want to split up at all? Isn’t three fighters better than one?” Luke asked. The forced casualness was back, and Annabeth didn’t like it, but she couldn’t help but feel a little burst of pride that he’d counted her as one of the fighters in the group.

Thalia sighed again, and Annabeth heard a scraping noise. A second later the heat from the campfire flared.

“He said it would be faster,” Thalia said finally, reluctantly, “And that it might be safer for you two to not have me around.”

“That’s bullshit,” Luke said, angrily.

“I… I don’t know. Maybe.”

“What, you think you’re special?” Luke said, though now his tone was laced with amusement.

“Well apparently I smell extra tasty,” Thalia replied, only a hint sarcastic. Luke laughed, low and quiet.

“I don’t think it matters,” he said, “Annie had monsters crawling all over her all by herself.”

Annabeth had to actively repress a shudder at the thought. She couldn’t move, couldn’t let them figure out she was awake— they would stop talking about adult things and she would miss it.

“That’s true,” Thalia said, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“You’re not thinking about it, are you?”

“Of course I’m not,” Thalia said, sounding offended that Luke had even asked, “I’m pissed he even brought it up, especially after Annabeth was the one to save all our asses from that cyclops. He kept saying she’s slowing us down but we’d all be dead without her.”

Annabeth felt the same mixture of dread and pride as before. She was useful enough to not leave behind. Even if she was slow, and thinking of the cyclops cave made her want to cry.

“Asshole. He’s the one slowing us down, not knowing where the fuck he’s going,” Luke muttered darkly.

“I almost feel bad for the guy,” Thalia sighed. Annabeth heard more scraping and felt the fire flare again. “I mean he’s a kid just like us.”

“A kid who’s going to get us all killed if we’re not careful.”

Thalia hummed in agreement, and they were quiet for a minute. Annabeth didn’t really know what to think. She liked Grover— he was funny and he let her touch his hooves and he taught her how to play hacky sack— but she could tell that Luke didn’t and Thalia was starting not to. And Grover apparently didn’t like her. Or he thought she was slow, at least— but that made Thalia and Luke mad, even if they thought it was true. It was all very confusing, but she thought Luke and Thalia were on her side, at least.

“Is it weird I like watching her sleep?” Thalia asked, finally. With a start Annabeth realized they were talking about her. She tried extra hard to keep her breathing even.

“Why, ‘cause she’s not chattering your ear off?” Luke teased. Annabeth heard a soft thump and Luke’s laughter, and knew Thalia had probably punched him in the arm.

“I’d have her chat my ear off any day than have her be quiet like she’s been,” Thalia said. Luke didn’t reply. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the campfire. Annabeth could feel both their eyes on her, and she forced herself to keep looking asleep.

“I think the whole cyclops thing really freaked her out,” Thalia sighed, when Luke hadn’t spoken for a minute.

“Of course it freaked her out, she watched us all almost get eaten,” he snapped, his voice angry. Annabeth’s stomach turned. She tried to keep her expression smooth, even though she could practically smell the cyclops’ lair again. She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose, or better yet, open her eyes and confirm that she wasn’t back there again. Their voices weren’t good enough to do that anymore, not after the monster had stolen them. She repressed another shudder.

“Well that’s why we have to get to this camp thing, right? So she doesn’t have to see shit like that anymore.”

Thalia sounded calm, not mad, but when Luke spoke again he still sounded angry.

“Bit late for that,” he said, voice quiet and bitter, and Thalia sighed again.

“Better late than never.”

Luke didn’t say anything.

Annabeth felt nerves swoop through her stomach. Did Luke not want to go to camp? He’d made it sound nice when he’d told her about it, but now he just sounded mad. Thalia wanted to, and that was a comforting thought for a minute until Annabeth remembered that Grover had wanted to split them up. But Thalia had also said she wasn’t leaving, and she’d sounded sure about that. Everything was so confusing, and Annabeth didn’t know how to figure it out. It didn’t help that her brain felt dizzy from being tired.

It took a while for either of them to talk again, to the point where Annabeth had almost drifted off to sleep for real. When Thalia spoke again her voice was quiet, so much so that Annabeth almost thought she dreamed it.

“She looks relaxed. Like a normal kid on a camping trip or something. That’s why I like watching her sleep.”

Luke sighed, heavy and deep.

“You should get some too,” he said, not really acknowledging Thalia’s words.

“You need to rest too,” Thalia said, lightly, “Grover’s keeping watch.”

Luke snorted again at that, but it was much less humorous this time. Thalia didn’t seem amused, anyway.

“Come on. You’re exhausted.”

“I’ll wake you up in a few hours and we can switch,” Luke said. Thalia made an annoyed noise, but didn’t say anything else. Annabeth felt someone lie down next to her, felt light fingers adjust the jacket she was using as a blanket so it covered her arms more fully.

Annabeth didn’t want to sleep. She knew there would be nightmares waiting for her the second she slipped out of consciousness, and she didn’t want to see them again.

But they would be walking a lot tomorrow, and she couldn’t walk if she was tired. And if she couldn’t walk then she would slow them down even more than she already was.

So instead of resisting it anymore, she let the exhaustion wash over her, pulling her into bad dreams. It would be okay in the morning. Her family would be there when she woke up, and she wasn’t going to let them down.

[spencers-renaissance]

I turn and reach for you

Summary: Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

Tags: nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations TW: past non-con drug use mentioned once in passing

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

This feels the "Nightmares" square on my Bad Things Happen bingo card, and was written for this prompt by @i-write-whump. Title from a poem by Devon Strang.

After Spencer is kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, he stays with Derek. Nobody on the team wants him to be alone, and he’s always felt the most comfortable with him, so it makes sense. Besides, he’s got the space.

Spencer sometimes wonders whether the team pushed so hard for it because they genuinely believed that, logistically, Derek was the best option, or because they could also see the slow-burning romance simmering under the surface of their relationship. They’ve always had a special friendship, but Spencer can feel the growing tension: the deep and intense looks they share mid-case, the lingering touches on backs and arms, the affection leaking into each ‘pretty boy’ and every ‘Der’.

Perhaps if Hankel never came into the picture they’d already be together — it really had felt like they were on the precipice of something special — but it’s three months later and Spencer’s still sleeping in the spare room; there’s still just as much will they, won’t they lingering in the air between them.

He tries not to mind too much. After all, he’s never had so much free access to the man he’s pined after for years now, and they’re living in each other’s pockets. Almost every waking hour is spent in one another’s company: they cook together, eat together, watch films together, and neither of them are showing any sign of getting sick of it. But every time they’re cooking pasta and Derek says something ridiculous, Spencer wishes he was allowed to lean in and kiss the tip of his nose; every time they sit down to watch something together, he wishes he could burrow into his side and rest his head in the crook of his neck.

(Sometimes, Spencer wishes he could rewind to the weeks immediately after the Hankel incident when Derek would carry him around the flat to keep him off his broken feet; when he could press his face into his shoulder and inhale the scent of complete and utter safety.)

It’s almost torturous, being so close yet so far.

He isn’t quite sure why the nightmares start so late. The nights during the first couple of months are blissfully dreamless, so exhausted from the physical and emotional trauma that sleep was a tantalising escape, but once he’s back in the field, once normal life resumes, everything changes.

The first time he wakes up sweating and panting, heart pounding as he tries to convince himself that he’s no longer in Hankel’s clutches but is safe and sound in Derek’s apartment, he dismisses it as a one-off. He hasn’t had nightmares yet, so why should they start now? He doesn’t go back to sleep that night, too shaken to relax back into the comforting embrace of sleep, too afraid of deception: that he wouldn’t sleep dreamlessly but that the nightmare would be waiting for him once again.

The second time worries him. He gets up this time and gets a glass of water as quietly as possible, leaning with his back against the kitchen counter as he ponders what this could mean for him. The thing is, they’re so incredibly vivid. It really feels like he’s back at the mercy of a three-in-one torturer armed with drugs and belts and guns, genuinely unsure of whether he’ll ever see his family again. He doesn’t go back to sleep this time, either, instead pacing around the living room until Derek wakes up. He lies that he’s only been up for half an hour, and Derek believes him.

The third time solidifies for Spencer the fact that this is a problem. Three is a pattern, everybody knows that, and Spencer spends the rest of the night scouring the internet for studies conducted around delayed trauma responses and discovers the prevalence of delayed-onset PTSD. He’s tempted to contact a professor he met during his third PhD who specialised in the psychology of trauma, but he thinks better of it. Admitting these nightmares would be admitting defeat.

This is something he has to deal with alone.

(He ignores the truth that it’s more fear than anything else that keeps him from telling anyone: fear of being seen as weak, fear of nothing changing, fear of voicing his trauma out loud. It’s easier to pretend it’s about independent agency.)

It doesn’t affect him too much at first. Sure, he’s scared to go to sleep and he sweats so profusely that it soaks through his bedsheets almost every night, but he’s managing. He’s okay. He contributes just as much to their profiles and takes down unsubs without flinching. He dances around Derek like they have done for over a year, and he sits through Dr Who marathons with Penelope just fine. So what if he’s a bit tired? He’s stared down some of America’s Most Wanted and interviewed famous serial killers, he can cope with a little fatigue.

It doesn’t stay that easy for long.

Soon everybody’s asking about the bags under his eyes, his slower reaction times when they visit the gun range, his twitchiness around the team.

“Are you sleeping okay, Spencer?” Penelope asks him one day, brushing a curly lock of hair behind his ears as they sit side by side on the sofa next to a conked out Derek.

He can’t nod his head quick enough. “Yeah! Yes, uh. Yes, Penelope, I’m sleeping fine, I promise,” he says as convincingly as he can, flashing her a smile. He hates lying to her, but he can’t let anyone find out, he just can’t.

Slowly, he begins losing his grip on reality. He’s almost delusional from the sleep deprivation, and he starts seeing Hankel everywhere he goes. He’s stood behind the fridge door, in the foyer of the FBI Headquarters, in the toilets of a local police station, stood right behind the unsub they’re currently trying to talk down, goddamnit.

He’s beyond exhausted, but some nights he still refuses to sleep, too afraid of what awaits him in his dreams, too afraid of the fear he knows he’ll carry into the next day, too afraid of feeling weak again. Helpless. Completely and utterly without agency.

He sits up with his back against the headboard, the main light off but the lamp switched on, scrolling through as many scholarly articles as he can read in a night, drinking cup after cup of steaming black coffee. Most nights he makes it through till morning without sleeping a wink, but sometimes he can’t stop himself from drifting off The nightmares on those nights are the worst.

He isn’t okay and people are starting to notice. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him right now, but he knows it won’t be long before Penelope organises an intervention that Hotch hosts and Derek directs. The worst part about it is that he feels like a trainwreck waiting to happen. He’s headed straight for complete and utter collapse, and the only possible way to stop the train in its tracks is to reach out and get help, the one thing he can’t get himself to do.

And he isn’t even really sure why.

It all comes to a head on a warm night in July. He’d fallen into bed that night deliberately, actually intending to sleep for once. The bone-deep tiredness had finally caught up to him and he didn’t even care that he was walking straight into the arms of Tobias Hankel, if it meant he got even an iota of refreshing sleep, then it would be worth it.

But he isn’t quite of the same mind when he wakes up at two in the morning like he does almost every night: soaked in sweat with his heart going a million beats per minute, with only one difference. Tonight, he’s crying.

Maybe it’s the emotional turmoil of the last few months catching up to him, or maybe it’s just the severity of this particular dream, but whatever it is, he can’t seem to stop even once he’s awake. Sobs wrack his shoulders as he cries miserably into the pillow, finally letting out the emotions he’s kept bottled up so tightly, and he’s almost wailing after a couple of minutes of anguish.

All he can think as he cries helplessly is how badly he wants Derek. He wants to be wrapped up in his strong and safe embrace, he wants to feel the movement of his soft goatee against his cheek, he wants to inhale the comforting scent of his sleep t-shirts, he wants the warmth and solace that only Derek Morgan can give him, and in that moment, emotionally distraught and so incredibly sleep-deprived, he decides to get it.

He stumbles out of his bedroom and down the hall, stopping once he reaches Derek’s door. He hesitates for only a second before he pushes it open slowly, allowing the light from the lamp they keep switched on in the hallway to gently illuminate the shadows of his bedroom.

“Spencer?” Derek asks groggily, immediately sitting up and wiping his eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

At the acknowledgement of his tears, Spencer starts to cry harder, and as embarrassed as he feels, he can’t slow the steady stream of tears rolling down his face as he stands in the doorway like a child in their parents’ room.

“Spence,” Derek says again, gentle and sympathetic, “come here.” He lifts the duvet up and scooches over slightly as if to make room for him in his already spacious king-size bed.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, though, and he stumbles forward, collapsing into bed and wrapping himself around Derek instantly. His arms come up to circle Spencer’s waist, caressing him gently as he holds him close to his body, shushing him quietly.

“It’s okay, Spence,” he murmurs. “I’m here now, alright? We’re gonna fix whatever it is, I promise you. We’ll get through this. You’ll get through this.”

He lets himself cry and cry and cry until his tears are dried up and he’s hiccupping from the force of his sobs. He would feel terrible about the damp spot left on Derek’s t-shirt, but he simply doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he continues to lie there on Derek’s chest, listening to his softly spoken assurances and losing himself in the sensation of Derek’s fingertips caressing the skin of his waist.

After a couple of minutes of silence, interrupted only by the odd hiccup from Spencer’s tired lungs, Derek finally asks the question. “What was that all about, pretty boy?” he asks with a tenderness Spencer isn’t sure he’s ever heard before. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Been having nightmares,” Spencer whispers, keeping his eyes closed against Derek’s imploring gaze.

He feels Derek tense beneath him, his fingers briefly pausing before resuming their comforting patterns on his waist, and a heavy breath escapes his lips. “For how long?”

“Last couple of months,” he mumbles, and somehow another tear manages to escape Spencer’s screwed up eyes.

“Well,” Derek sighs, “I suppose that explains a lot. We’ve been so worried about you, Spencer. We had no idea what was going on but we could all see you withdrawing, and it wasn’t exactly a secret how exhausted you were.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Derek says sadly. “I should’ve pushed harder to figure out what was going on with you. I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this all alone.”

“I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” Spencer says, suddenly desperate to explain as he shifts slightly to look Derek in the eye. “I was so scared and I didn’t want anyone to think that I was weak or I couldn’t do my job anymore, and I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I know, Spence,” Derek says soothingly, “but you’ve told me now, haven’t you? And I’m going to do everything I can to get you some help. We’ll fix this, baby. I promise you, I’m going to make sure you’re happy and healthy again if it’s the last thing I do, okay?”

Spencer sniffs a little, wiping tiredly at his eyes as he blinks up at the sincerity on Derek’s face. For the first time in far too long he manages a smile. “Okay.”

Derek runs a hand through his hair before dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Spencer’s smile widens and he buries his face in Derek’s chest again as his cheeks flush red. “Please.”

Months later, they’ll realise they never officially asked one another to be in an actual, exclusive relationship. Months later, they’ll know instinctively and with absolute certainty that this night was the night that changed everything for them, and exactly one year later, they’ll celebrate their first anniversary on that date.

Tonight, though, they sleep curled up next to one another in Derek’s bed, and although Spencer doesn’t fall into the same dreamless sleep he grew used to immediately after Hankel, for once he isn’t haunted by nightmares, but dreams inflected with hope for what the future holds for them, and he’ll take that over dreamlessness any day.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @ @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds (add yourself to my taglist)

[arvandus]

So hopefully I got in on time! Btw, I’ve been absolutely loving your HC’s, the stutter one was friggin adorable! I love soft Dabi, there’s not much of him out there in stories 😢

Anyway! I was wondering if you could do HC’s with Dabi for someone who may be deaf or just hard of hearing? Ifff your comfortable, I would love to see what he would do for a male s/o (or platonic friend/league member, etc, whichever you choose!) If you don’t want to do this it’s completely fine and you can switch it to ambiguous/female (I don’t know if you have ever done men before haha!)

Hello! I’m so flattered for this ask because you’re trusting me to portray something that’s personal to you and outside of my own experience. I can absolutely do this with a Male Reader (my first one!).

I’m not sure what type or level of hearing loss you had in mind, so I did my best with this and went with an acquired hearing loss that’s moderate-to-severe. Also, I wrote Reader as someone who wears hearing aids. I hope that’s all right, since that’s typically the case for those with more severe hearing loss (otherwise communication is really difficult to do, since I don’t suspect Dabi would know sign language). Also, I got a couple of cute ideas that I really wanted to fit into this that follow more of a friends-to-lovers sort of vibe rather than established relationship. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!


Headcanons for Dabi x M!Reader who’s Deaf/Hard of Hearing (HOH)

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1240

💙 When you first join the LOV, Dabi will be skeptical at first, as he is with all things. How could someone with a hearing loss really be of any value to the league? He can’t help but wonder what skills you’re bringing to the table to that convinced Shigaraki to allow you to join.

💙 Dabi doesn’t interact with you right away... he prefers to observe. Part of it is that he doesn’t care for attachments, even amongst his comrades. Another is that he doesn’t expect you to last very long in the League. If he does interact, it’ll be through snarky quips and insults. After all, he loves getting under other people’s skin... it makes him feel like has an advantage.

💙 So, it goes without saying that Dabi will be a hard nut to crack at first. He’ll definitely have some crappy preconceived notions about people with hearing loss that he’ll get to face as he’s forced to get to know you.

💙 For example, he learns super fast that your hearing has little to do with your intelligence. You’re fucking smart and more than capable of handling yourself, much to his surprise. You quickly become an important member of the team, and even Dabi can’t really argue your value. It only makes his interest in you grow, his skepticism giving way to curiosity.

💙 Another thing he learns about you... you value your independence and hate when others coddle or dote on you due to your hearing loss. The first time Toga had tried to treat you as something fragile (granted she was trying to be nice), you’d quickly put her in her place. Dabi couldn’t help but grin at that exchange...

💙 The great thing about Dabi sitting back and observing everyone else most of the time is that he gets to learn by proxy how to interact with you.

💙 Don’t mumble or talk too fast. Don’t look away when talking to you. Talk more clearly, and slower, but for God’s sake, don’t treat you like you’re dumb. You’re hard of hearing, not stupid.

💙 Even with all of that taken into consideration though, he’ll notice that while you seem to do fine in one-on-one exchanges in quiet environment, you’ll withdraw more in group gatherings. Is the chattering of multiple voices too much? Is the noise overwhelming? Even he can’t always tolerate the prattling of the social butterflies of the group, so he wouldn’t blame you if it got under your skin too.

💙 His interest will finally be piqued when he watches you retreat during a rather boisterously loud game night amongst the League. He’ll follow quietly behind you, watching as you pass your own room in favor of the stairwell leading up to the rooftop.

💙 You don’t notice he’s followed you until he sits next to you. Your eyes betray your surprised at his presence.

💙 “What are you doing here?” you demand.

💙 He’ll give you a grin and a cock of his head. “You didn’t seem like you were havin’ much fun back there. Got anything to do with these?” he’ll tap your hearing aid playfully.

💙 You huff at him. “If you want me to hear you better, you’ll need to sit on my other side. My hearing aid battery died.”

💙 “You don’t have a backup?” he asks as he adjusts his position.

💙 You shake your head.

💙 “Doesn’t sound too bad.” He’ll tease. “I wish I could turn off my ears, especially when Toga laughs.”

💙 You give him a glare at his insensitive comment. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

💙 He raises an eyebrow at you and think for a moment, before looking back out over the cityscape. “Why don’tcha tell me about it then.”

💙 You give him a skeptical look but he waits silently for you to continue. His smirk is gone as his sharp eyes glance back at you. He's serious.

💙 You’ll finally open up to him, explaining how hard it can be sometimes. How noisy environments can make your hearing aids nearly useless when the noise is too much, when everyone is talking at once. How frustrating it is to not be able to follow a conversation let alone participate, and how it can sometimes make people assume things about you. At best, they’ll assume you can hear fine with your hearing aids and therefore assume you’re being aloof or don’t want to interact. At worst, they’ll think your slow or stupid, and look at you with pity.

💙 Dabi will listen, but he won’t offer much up except sarcastic remarks about the others in an attempt to make you feel better. After all, sympathy isn’t his strong suit. But you’ll find yourself feeling better by the end, just grateful to be able to vent to someone.

💙 When you smile at him and tell him thanks for listening, it’ll take him by surprise. Not because of your reaction – he expected that, at least. What’ll surprise him is his reaction to it – a strange sense of satisfaction will wash over him, filling him with an unfamiliar warmth. He realizes - a moment too late, before he can bring down his barriers - that he likes seeing you smile, especially when it’s at him.

💙 You’ll feel slightly closer after that, finding more opportunities to hang out on the quiet rooftop and chat.

💙 He’ll surprise you on your next visit with a brand-new pack of hearing aid batteries. You’ll give him a suspicious look, asking where he got them and how he knew what kind to get you, but he’ll give you a wicked grin and brush off your question with an evasive comment.

💙 It won’t take long for you to start developing a crush on him, and against your better judgment, you find yourself staring at him a lot more and finding ways to be around him more. Hanging out at the bar, going on missions together, sitting next to him during the LOV discussions… you try to brush it off as ‘becoming friends,’ but deep down you know better.

💙 It doesn’t take long for Dabi to take notice and begin to suspect that maybe… just maybe… all of your secret glances and increased attention aren’t strictly platonic.

💙 What a wonderful turn of events. He wasn’t sure if you were interested in men, but now he’s 99% sure you are... or at the very least, interested in him.

💙 It leaves his skin feeling hotter than usual, his heart pounding in his chest with excitement. He wonders if you know... or even suspect... that he watches you too in mutual attraction.

💙 He’ll start testing the waters, just to make sure, of course. Hit you with a few flirty nicknames to see how you react. As soon as he sees you fluster and flounder in obvious embarrassment, he’ll know he’s got you, and it makes your exchanges only that much more entertaining.

💙 The more he learns about you, the more interested he becomes. He’ll start to do research on ways to support you with your hearing loss. It’ll be purely out of curiosity, of course... it’s not like he’s gonna go out of his way or anything. But he ends up finding himself down the rabbit hole of hearing aid supports, and learns about Bluetooth capabilities, FM systems, infrared systems... ways to send targeted noise – like speech for instance – straight to your hearing aids, bypassing any pesky background noise.

💙 It won’t take long for him to get an idea – two birds with one stone, so to speak...

💙 You’ll be on the rooftop together, when he says, “I gotta surprise for ya.”

💙 He pulls out a box that’s labelled ‘Dynamic FM System.’

💙 If you try to reach for it though, he’ll hold it out of your reach. “ah ah ah... we gotta find the right place to try it out.”

💙 He’ll lead you downstairs and you’ll think he’s heading to the common space where the others are, but instead he takes you outside of the hideout, leading you down the street.

💙 “Where are we going?”

💙 “You’ll see.”

💙 The two of you will end up outside of a bar. Not just any bar, though… the line of patrons is already a huge hint of what you’ll find inside.

💙 “Wait isn’t this….?” You’ll start.

💙 Dabi will only smirk at you though, before he grabs your hand and leads you in.

💙 Inside will be loud. So loud you have to turn down the volume on your hearing aids, and too loud for you to hear anything of value. But as you look around, your suspicions are confirmed - instead of the usual opposite sexes pairing up like you find at most bars, this one is different. Men are pairing up with men, women are pairing up with women. Your heart is beating like a drum in your chest, your pulse racing with excitement. Of all the places for Dabi to bring you…

💙 You keep close to Dabi, holding onto his arm. He loves that, loves that you’re looking to him for protection. And protect you he does, his eyes threatening violence to anyone who stares too long at you.

💙 He’ll sit you down at the bar with him in the center of the noise while drunken gay couples flirt over their drinks and a group of girls laugh in the corner. He’ll say something to the bartender, and a minute later, two fresh drinks are place before the two of you.

💙 He won’t try to talk to you yet as he opens the box and begins taking out all of the pieces. He’ll plug in the small, cylinder-like component into your hearing aid - the receiver. He’ll be completely up in your space when he does it too, grinning at you with his ocean blue eyes. In his hand he holds the transmitter that contains a button with a microphone on it.

💙 Once everything is hooked up properly, he’ll speak into the mic, his finger on the button.

💙 “Hey there.” He says. His voice comes through crystal clear.

💙 “Hey.” You smile.

💙 Once Dabi knows you can hear him, his devilish grin will widen and he’ll lean casually against the bar counter as he stares at you, his eyes drinking you in. “Have I ever told you how hot you are?”

💙 That’s when it finally clicks… Dabi is actually interested in you. And he’s taken you out on a date.

💙 BONUS: If the bar scene ends up being too much for you, he’ll be more than happy to spend the rest of your date on your favorite rooftop spot with some take-out. 10/10 will kiss you by the end of the date.

[gohyuck]

my someone

pairing: jeong yunho x reader

genre: angst to fluff, f2l

warnings: n/a

word count: 1.5k

“you’ve been out here all night.”

you startle, not expecting yunho to come up beside you. he’s smiling at you when you turn to the side, one of his hands wrapped around the balcony railing in front of him. the fairy lights strung up overhead bathe him in light, reflecting off of his all-white suit. your best friend looks almost angelic, and the soft, inquiring gaze he has completes the picture.

“for someone so big, you have, like, crazy light footsteps,” you respond, a corner of your lips pulling up as you turn to face him. “didn’t hear you at all.”

“you’re dodging the question.” yunho slides the hand on the railing towards you slightly, and you can’t help but let your breath hitch once you feel the knuckle of his thumb against the thin cloth of your formalwear. you know he’s just being kind, being genuine as he gets closer to you. perhaps he thinks it’s his duty as your date. maybe he counts it as his duty as your best friend.

“you haven’t even asked a question.” you’re still grinning as you meet his eyes, though you’re sure the ache in your chest is easily seen in your expression, no matter how hard you try to hide it. you don’t even know why you’re indulging yunho right now: he’s always read you so easily. it’s doubly bad now, considering that he’s the reason you’ve spent half your prom night out at the balcony of the hotel floor the school had rented.

he’d seemed so happy, so content talking and laughing with the rest of your friends. yunho’d helped one girl with her hair, pulled another guy closer by the waist as they’d both lost it over a joke mingi’d made about jongho and beating the ever-loving shit out of a watermelon in the name of sport. sure, he’d asked you to be his date (“best friend privileges, am i right?” “whatever. you’re buying me a corsage.”), but he could’ve asked anyone and they would’ve said yes in a heartbeat.

you aren’t special.

“figured the question was implied,” he’s smirking now, though his eyes remain ever-so-slightly concerned. once you don’t respond, only continue to smile detachedly at him, he sighs before wrapping his arms around you entirely and pulling your body into his.

“what’s wrong, moonshine?” yunho murmurs his nickname into your hair, and you can’t help but let a quiet, airy laugh out at it. he’d taken to calling you ‘sunshine’ back in sixth grade until you’d had your emo/alt not-a-phase phase in seventh and told him the name made you feel too nice, and that you weren’t nice, you were edgy, among other things. he’d laughed directly in your face before switching to ‘moonshine’, asking you if that was an edgy enough name.

it’d stuck ever since. he’s stuck ever since. his hand rubs up and down your back now as if to soothe you, and you know he’s aware of how tight your muscles are pulled.

your heart aches. you can’t do this anymore: it’s been years upon years of having yunho as your best friend and nothing more, and you think it’s finally, finally taken a toll on you. the ache is intensified by how sure you are of the fact that he doesn’t love you back: you’ve never had another person to call your own, and yunho’s had plenty. He’s cycled through boyfriend, girlfriend, partner after partner since high school had started, never keeping someone for more than a few months. you’d always watched his relationships fall apart like movie scenes you couldn’t tear your eyes away from. you’d always held him in the aftermath, ever the epitome of a good friend.

“i’ll never find love, will i?” you voice the thought aloud, meeting yunho’s gaze with a strength you’d previously been unaware of. it’s as if your question is a challenge, one he can either meet or deny. maybe you still have a bit of hope left in you.

yunho stares back, albeit more confused - and a little saddened - than he had been seconds prior. he says nothing, and the ray of hope piercing your heart breaks in half, like an arrow being pulled unceremoniously out of a dead warrior.

you’ve had enough. you look away. your head hangs.

it’s only when you can’t see him, can only see the white of his suit that you let all of your thoughts fall out, finally convinced that it - whatever it is - is done.

“i just - i… i’ve never had someone of my own. i mean i know that it’s only senior year, and that i have my life ahead of me, but sometimes it feels like i - it feels like the one person i’ve always loved will never love me back.” you pause in your rambling to take a breath, and yunho mistakes you for finished. he opens his mouth to speak, but you raise a hand to silence him, narrowly missing hitting his nose. you don’t care. you forge on. “he’s always with someone or the other - i mean i guess he isn’t with someone now, or whatever, but - god you won’t get it, because you’re like that, you always have someone. he’s always with everyone but me and it sucks because i love you so fucking much that it physically hurts.”

there’s silence, only your muted breathing, and then, as you register what you’ve said - i love you, instead of i love him - there are tears. he knows. all these years, and now he knows.

you turn away to look over the balcony, suddenly having to work hard to keep yourself from gasping for breath. the ache has not dulled, not in the slightest, but at least the pressure is off your chest. at least its made way for a new kind of weight.

before you can mull over - re: cry over - what’s just happened, a warm hand comes up to cup the side of your face closest to it, a thumb swipes one of your tears away. you can’t help but glance at yunho, expecting to see him crestfallen at the ruination of your friendship.

he’s smiling the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

“i’ve always had someone, yeah, but that someone’s always been you,” he says, words rushed because he doesn’t want you to cry any harder. “it’s always been you. nobody else has ever stayed because none of them have ever compared to you. i thought - i thought you didn’t want me, so i never even tried.”

his other hand rests gingerly against your waist for a moment before he deems it too awkward, instead sliding his arm around your middle fully before pulling you into him again. yunho’s words are still taking root in your heart, still being processed in your mind, and it’s a moment before you’re crying twice as hard in realization. it’s you for him just as it’s him for you?

“i love you, moonshine, always have.” he cements it before you can ask him too many questions, the words mumbled against your hair as he holds you close. yunho is all around you, enveloping you, and your whirlwind of emotions ends in you feeling very, very safe.

you pull away to take a good look at his smiling face, and he brushes all of your tears away before they can stain your face. his mouth is quirked into a smirk, though it’s softened by how kind his eyes and actions are. you can’t help but give him a watery smile of your own, though you can hardly believe what’s happening.

“i think,” you say, words wavering. his gaze is soft, encouraging, and he waits for you to continue. “i think we should talk it over properly in the car.”

“sure,” your best friend (soon to be boyfriend) replies, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. it feels right. “we can talk all night long. hell, we might have to talk all night long. for now, though, you owe me a dance, yeah?”

as if the universe is listening, the dance pop song in the background fades out just as yunho finishes his question, transitioning to a slower r&b song. you watch as people filter off the dance floor, only a number of couples remaining as they start slow dancing. yunho steps away from you and holds a hand out, and you don’t hesitate in taking it, eyes dried and smile big as your love pulls you from the balcony and leads you to the dance floor.

you have your first kiss with yunho at prom, colored lights illuminating your faces and smooth rhythms backing crooning vocals as a soundtrack, his arms looped around your waist and your own thrown over his shoulders, his mouths slotting perfectly against yours, and it’s magical. it’s as if everything you’ve never said is behind that kiss, every moment the two of you’ve missed before. it’s beautiful, and wonderful, and, more than anything, it’s truly, truly magical.

it’s magical enough for him to mention it in his wedding vows to you, years upon years later.

[imagineurfavs]

Nu’est - Baekho A-Z

“I knowww you’re in hiatus but would you consider a Baekho A-Z ??? Your last couple asks have me thinking fr”

----------

A - Aftercare

Boy gets so cuddly afterwards, he just wants to lay together until the end of time lmao, so it’ll probably take him a minute to even think about aftercare. But he’ll probably run a bath or shower for you

B - Body Part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner)

on himself he likes his arms, they’re big and strong, he loves that he can hold you close to him no matter what position yall are in. On his partner he likes their legs, esp when you wrap them around his waist when he’s on top of you...oof...nice.

C - Cum

Likes the intimacy of cumming inside you, but if that’s not an option, he likes to cum on either your stomach or your chest. He’ll glance at it for a second, looking super proud, then rush off all bashful and shy to go get a towel lmao

D - Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

Sometimes he cries when he cums lol. Not bc he's like overly in his feelings or anything like that, like it's just a reflex that happens sometimes and he has no idea why. He won't be like full on bawling either but like you'll look over at him and just see his eyes all glossy with like a single tear drop on his cheek djdjd

E - Experience

It’s a tricky one lmao. I feel like he’s just got a natural way with people lol, he’s a pro at wooing anyone. However, he doesn’t strike me as much of a one night stand kinda guy. Idk, I’d say he’s got a fair amount of experience, but from relationships, so like...its moreso, he’s done it a lot, rather than he’s done a lot of different stuff...yknow??

F - Favourite Position

Anything where he can keep your face close to his and maintain close eye contact. He likes being able to whisper sweet nothing's in your ear and kiss you freely whenever he wants

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous etc)

I wouldn't say he's humorous per se, but he's just smiley and sweet lol. He likes to keep the atmosphere warm and loving, the last thing he wants is for you to feel uncomfortable in his company

H - Hair (how well groomed are they)

He’s not like, immaculately clean shaven, but he���s not super wild either lol, he keeps it at a middle ground.

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Mans a total romantic, even in times when yall are in a rush and it's just a question of chasing that climax, even then he's just got words of love flowing non stop out of his mouth

J - Jack Off (Masturbation)

Almost every day, if not every day lol. It’s something he just kinda does without thinking. Like, he’ll be in bed, winding down, relaxing...then without knowing it his hand is in his pants lmao

K - Kinks (one of more of their kinks)

Now, this is where it gets a lil controversial lmao. I dont think Baekho is a dom. Not at all. Just bc he’s a big guy doesn’t mean he’s dominant lol; Baekho is the truest of switches you could ever see. 100% switch lol. He literally just wants to please, he just wants to make you feel good. As for actual kinks, I dont think he has that many that are that out there. He likes some light marking (giving & receiving), edging (receiving), and maybe a tiny hint of a femdom kink.

L - Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere where y’all can move about freely, that's literally his only requirement lol. He doesn’t wanna be cramped up in a tiny spice, which also means no car sex lol sorry lads 

M - Motivation (What turns them on)

One of the easiest men to rile up on the planet lol. Three things that get Dongho all hot and flustered lol:

1. tell him how much you love his body. (bonus points if you tell him how hot he looks working out and that you appreciate how hard he works for his body lol)

2. Show the tiniest bit of skin, he loves it when you wear a shirt that sits a tiny bit higher than usual and he can see your lower stomach when you move.

3. Literally just hold his gaze for 0.5 seconds longer than usual lol

N - NO (something they won't do, turn offs)

I feel like literally the only thing he’s unwavering on is his stance on three(or more)somes. He’s really not a sharing kinda guy. He doesn't wanna bring someone else in and potentially mess up y’alls dynamic. It’s something he cant even bear thinking about.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He can be a bit relentless when it come to giving lol, he'll hold your hips down with all his strength as he just totally feasts on your core. Deliberately makes the most lewd noises tryna get you to blush.

When receiving, boy he is LOUD, he'll be talking you through it like "fuuuuuuck yes baby, I know your throat can take all of me" "your pretty lips take me so well" he'll grab your hair and hold your head still as he cums, gets the fattest smirk on his face is he sees his load dripping out the sides of your mouth too,,,,,ooof. But then once again, he'll get all shy and bashful afterwards lol like he can't believe what he just said to you didjdjd

P - Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc)

I don't really think he has any set pace lol it can vary every time. I feel like it'd depend on the vibe of the day, like, if it's been a while and he's missed you beyond belief then it'd be much more slower and sensual. But if it's like,,,gotta chase that nut, then he can get pretty fast. I don't think he'd ever cross over into being rough, but his thrusts can get like, firm and...sharp lmao

Q - Quickies (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

Yes yes yes. Loves them. They usually tend to be a lot more giggly and fun than regular full sessions too lol

R - Risk (are they down to experiment, do they take risks?)

Eeeeeeh, a little bit. He's a bit of a baby in terms of pain so I feel like anything that could maybe hurt, even if it's something as simple as spanking or light restraints, could take a little convincing lol. He is definitely down...mans just needs reassuring he won't like die lol

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go, how long do they last? etc)

I mean, he’s a healthy guy lol, he’s gonna have super good stamina. I feel like there’d be literally no stopping him, he can go for however long you need him too. You might wanna get as much as you can out of him though bc once he's done, he's done for the night lmao

T - Toy (do they own toys do they use them on a partner or on themselves?)

He doesn’t own any himself, but that’s not to say he’s not open to experimenting with any. He just wont do it of his own volition lol. Hes thought about getting some numerous times though but he just doesn't wanna be the one to bring it up

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not really a fan, he just doesn’t understand it lol. He’s not big on teasing or being teased; he's not good at holding back when he's the one *trying* to tease you, and he gets so so fidgety and antsy when being teased lol. He’d much rather just get to the main event lmao

V - Volume (how loud are they, what type of sounds they make)

Lots of loud sighs and choked out groans. He can get quite high pitched, which he’s honestly a little embarrassed of lol. He gets louder slowly the closer he gets to climax, he’ll attach his mouth to your neck as he starts to get louder; tryna muffle any sounds bc he doesn't wanna hear himself like that lmao

W - Wild Card (a random headcannon)

Okay. This is where this whole thing started lol. Baekho is not a dom, he’s also not a sub either. BUT, he get’s so unbelievably turned on by watching you take control. Like he just thinks you have this aura to you when you’re the one pinning him down and getting what you want from him. It’s literally the only time he ever enjoys edging too; he'd never do it to himself, nor does he do it to you, but for some reason having you edge him, having himself be totally at your mercy is just...omg

X - X-ray (what's going on inside those pants)

Average/maybe a tiiiny bit below average in terms of length, but pretty veiny and he’s got some nice girth lol

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive)

I feel like it’s either one extreme or the other lol. It’s either he can’t keep his hands off you at all for days on end, or he’s just busy occupied with other stuff and his mind doesnt even go in that direction...there’s no way of knowing sksks

Z - Zzz... (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As long as he's happy that you're both fully satisfied, he'll be out like a light almost instantly lmao

♡♡♡♡♡

[ladykissingfish]

Driving with the Akatsuki

Itachi

Driving with this guy is ... nerve-wracking, to say the very least. It’s not as though he’s a reckless automobile operator; he observes all the laws of traffic, the radio is at a reasonable volume ((he’s the type to listen to podcasts rather than music)), he follows the speed limits, he actually slows down at a yellow light — but it’s the near-misses that are daunting. The just barely stopping in time before hitting the old lady crossing the street. The running up on the curb while parking. And then there was that incident with the tree — Itachi legally has to wear glasses when driving, but his passengers often wonder whether the glasses actually HELP him. Even with them on, he squints A LOT. And only someone with nerves of absolute steel, like Kisame or Kakuzu, will be in a car with him at night. However he is with driving, one thing he’s not blind in, is his car’s cleanliness. Will make passengers wipe feet before getting in, and after everyone is gone he’ll carefully scour the seats to remove even the faintest trace of lint or gum wrappers or any disturbance at all. Can be a bit of a “mom” driver; a holdover from his teenage years of constantly having to chauffeur around his younger brother and his brother’s rambunctious friends.

Kakuzu

Anyone getting into a vehicle with Kakuzu is in for a surprise. 91 years old? Surely he drives slow and steady, like a typical little old man, right? WRONG. Kakuzu is a goddamn speed-demon. He barrels down streets, he flies through intersections. Not many know this about him, but he was very much into drag-racing as a (much) young(er) man, and his current proclivity for quickness is a holdover from those days. Luck always seems to be on his side, as he’s gotten caught/received speeding tickets far less than he deserves. To make matters scarier, Kakuzu’s radio system has been broken for two years (and of course he’s too cheap to get it fixed), and the back left window doesn’t roll up to the top; so the only sound his passengers will hear is the wind rushing past the glass and Kakuzu’s deep, sinister chuckles as he sees other drivers (and pedestrians) scramble to get out of his way. Also, unless you’re a CLOSE-close friend, don’t expect a ride from him unless you have gas money.

Deidara

In all honesty, the blonde prefers to be the passenger rather than the driver, even in his own car. He gets his best inspirations for future art pieces when he’s traveling around, and it’s hard to pick up a sketch book when you need to be paying attention to the road. When he does have to be behind the wheel himself, he’s a fairly average driver. His passengers are always at risk of a case of auditory whiplash, as Deidara’s (loudly played) music tastes switch from one extreme to the other; and the guy isn’t exactly shy about singing along to his favorites. He’s also one of those eat-on-the-go guys, and his backseat will almost always be buried under a myriad of candy wrappers, empty plastic soda bottles and discarded burger wrappers. In the summer he prefers the wild and free feeling of having all the windows down, rather than turning the AC on, and he’ll have to remember to firmly tie up his long hair and keep it from blowing in his eyes or else everyone in the car will be taking an unscheduled trip into the nearest tree.

Zetsu

His car always has that calm, natural, “special plant” scent to it. The kind of smell that causes a panic when Zetsu sees a police officer anywhere in the area. A very relaxed driver; seat almost all the way back, one hand barely on the steering wheel. Obeys the speed limit but can put the pedal to the metal when in a hurry. Likes to listen to mostly reggae or jazz, and taps his fingers on he dashboard along to the beat. Water-bottle hoarder; has at least 1000 plastic water bottles, in varying staging of fullness, all over the front and back seats. The type to keep driving around the block until the song ends. Also the type to have really deep conversations with his passengers, and drive them out to really far away and scenic locations.

Hidan

If you have somewhere important to go, and need a ride, it’s best not to ask Hidan. He is the sort who always insists he knows a shortcut or a quicker route to every destination ... and ends up hopelessly lost. Can’t read a map to save his life and for some reason won’t trust a car’s gps system to guide him ((has some pretty crazy conspiracy theories about the voice behind the system)). Easily distracted by any and everything (both inside and outside of car), which makes being his passenger a bit daunting. Like Kakuzu, is a very fast driver, but infinitely more cautious as he has a LOT of tickets wracked up and isn’t looking to add more.

Really loves Led Zeppelin and Johnny Cash; has a visor full of those CD’s and will play those rather than listen to the radio. Also has a butt-load of swear word laden and inappropriate humor bumper stickers.

Pein

Who needs a car when motorcycles exist? This guy has a classic hog that he keeps in mint condition, that he rides around wherever he goes. Every year he’ll try and convince his close friends to ditch their boring cars for something more sublime, only to be met sure emphatic No’s each time. Is very protective over his baby and will go ballistic over even the tiniest nick or scrape. Drives at a normal speed when by himself, but will drive just a bit faster when carting around a friend (especially if it’s a female friend). Doesn’t really like to wear a helmet himself but will insist on any passengers putting one on. Prefers the quiet of the open road but if in a musical mood it’s always 80’s hair bands; a lot of Def Leppard, Quiet Riot, Van Halen. Can do a variety of tricks on his bike but doesn’t do them often as he doesn’t like to “mess up” his baby any more than necessary.

Sasori

Absolutely 100% HATES driving. Has massive anxiety anytime he has to get behind the wheel, almost to the point where he’d need to take a sedative just to relax. Drives slower than the slowest driver you can think of. Yellow light? Slow down. Green light? Still slow down. Will drive himself to and from work, but any other time would prefer being a passenger in someone else’s car ((in which case he becomes the worst backseat driver in history)), or simply taking the bus. Doesn’t like giving rides to others but if he must, it’ll be a very tense, silent drive (forget about him turning on the radio and ‘breaking his concentration’), and he’ll freak out if a passenger takes their seatbelt off before the car comes to a complete stop. Also has a hyper-awareness to anything that might possibly be wrong with his car; if that check engine light comes on you can bet he’ll be at the mechanic in a heartbeat. Also the type who feels “uncomfortable” if gas tank is below 3/4 full.

Konan

The type who’s always heading somewhere/running errands, and will ask if you need a ride. Very neat and organized car, and always suspiciously shiny (as if she visits the carwash every other day). Seems to know absolutely everybody; is always waving at or honking to people in other cars. Keeps the radio volume down when she has passengers, but when alone she loves to sing at the top of her lungs to 90’s boy bands (her rendition of I Want It That Way by The Backstreet Boys is American-Idol worthy). Is always prepared for anything, especially in the winter; in her trunk is a shovel, an extra blanket, water bottles and protein bars, even emergency flares. May be pretty and delicate but definitely knows her way around a car; can change a tire or check the oil with the best of them.

Kisame

Has very long legs, so needs a car or truck that provides him ample room to stretch. A very relaxed and mellow driver, always puts whoever’s with him immediately at ease. Doesn’t use air fresheners in his car but inside always smells like whatever his cologne is, which is always yummy. Gets a lot of fast-food but always keeps the bags and wrappers stored neatly in a little garbage bag that he empties out daily. Will let his passengers do pretty much anything in his car EXCEPT smoke; he can’t stand the smell of tobacco. Isn’t really a Point A to Point B driver; will always think of other places to stop or visit en-route to his destination. Big fan of Musical music; his all-time favorite cd is the soundtrack to Grease. Also (when by himself) is a car-emoter; Kisame doesn’t let most people see anything but his cheerful side. Bring alone in his car is the only time he’ll cry, or scream, or express anger regarding events or people.

Obito

The type of driver who very often spaces out and “forgets” that he’s driving. Prefers traveling more with animals than with people; most likely to take his dog on a weeklong broad trip. Has been a smoker since his teenage years but is trying to quit, so in his car is the only place he “allows” himself a cigarette (but only when he’s completely alone). Almost started a fire once when he threw a still-lit cigarette out the window, but it flew into the backseat instead. Drives fairly slow unless he’s in a hurry for something (but even then his foot doesn’t press the gas pedal THAT much harder). His musical tastes depend on his mood but whatever he ends up listening to is always car-shakingly loud. Seems to have a new (and interesting) trinket hanging from his rear-view mirror every week. The kind who drives around for several days with his gas tank close to/touching on E because ”he knows his car, it’s fine”.

[barbecuebabybackribs]

Jasper Hale having a male mate would include:

Alice saw you coming but she didn’t see who was coming

He was resistant at first, partially because you were very human and he was afraid of hurting you, also because he had never courted a man

Not that it would stop him

After getting over the initial shock he would be a proper gentleman

He’d walk you to class, sit with you at lunch, offer to drive you home

He even switched his schedule around so he could sit with you at English- although if you asked it was pure coincidence

Constantly asks you questions about yourself, and answers your questions as honestly as he can without exposing the big secret

He takes things much slower then Edward did with Bella

It was months until he confessed his feelings for you and asked you out

Speaking of which the first time he felt your emotions and felt you crushing on him- took everything in him not to confess right there in class

Your first date he took you to a movie- due to Edward tipping him off there was a new horror movie you’d been really wanting to see

During the movie there was one jump scare that made you flinch and grab his arm- that along with the slight increase in your heart beat, he was fighting off a laugh for the rest of the night

Get’s extremely nervous at the thought of telling you he’s a vampire

Actually starts avoiding you when his family starts to pressure him into telling you

Ends up telling you during one of your very common late night phone calls

You think he’s joking at first but he proves it by running sonic speed at you

You scream

He gets very insecure for a few minutes before you assure him you only screamed because the sight of someone running at you as fast as a bullet was terrifying- not because you were scared of him

You bombard him with a million questions after that- he answers each and every one

You bring up the bite marks on his arms and he explains how he fought in the southern vampire turf wars with maria

“Oh, I just thought you were kinky”

“Y/N!”

Take’s you out the next sunny day to show you what he looks like in the sun

Can’t help but smile when he feels a sudden surge of excitement when he steps in the sun

“You’re so Handsome!”

“You’re not to bad yourself”

You spend a few hours just talking and walking around- he shows you some of his favorite parts the forest that you had never known existed

Introduces you to his family later that day, they all love you- except for Rosalie

But she warms up to you eventually

You go awhile without having your first kiss, both to nervous to scare the other one off

Jasper gets enough confidence to go for it when you press a soft kiss to his cheek, he grabs your waist before you can pull away and pulls you into a quick kiss

He lets you pull away, thinking he might have taken it to far for a moment

He’s delightfully surprised when you go in back in for another kiss- relishing in the mix of excitement and love radiating off of you

Goes home with a bit more pep in his step- which does not go unnoticed by Edward and Alice

Subtle PDA all the time, hands on your thigh, a hand on the small of your back, interlocked hands, an occasional peck on the cheek.

Never initiates a kiss in public but is more then willing to kiss you back if you make the first move\

Way to nervous to have sex with you while you’re still human

Once Jessica Stanley made a homophobic comment about you and him, he never admitted it but she may have been hit with a sudden wave of negative emotion causing her to run out of the room- tail in between her legs

Some one is hitting on you and making you uncomfortable? You feel two strong arm wrap around you and pull you close, not needing to turn around to know it’s Jasper.

“Hello Darling, Is everything alright?” He’d say in a sweet time but his eyes were staring daggers into whoever was flirting with you

“It is now that you’re here, Jazz.”

Calls you Darling, Hun, Sweetheart, ect. Basically anything but your name

If your parents are homophobic he makes sure to wait until your ready to tell them- if they handle it badly he uses his power as some extra convincing

Jasper is a bit of overprotective bit tries to respect your decisions

Jasper always tries to reassure you when you’re insecure about your relationship without using his powers on you once you express your dislike to it

The only reason he turns you is because the Volturi says if he doesn’t they’ll kill you

Although Jasper make’s sense your 100% alright with it

Makes Carlisle turn you in fear he won’t be able to stop

If he could cry he would have when he heard your cries of pain as  the venom courses threw your veins

The whole house goes still when your hearts finally stops beating and you fall silent

On the third day Jasper is anxious that you won’t wake up, the only sound in the room is his foot nervously tapping the ground

“Jas... Jasper?”

His golden eyes shoot up to your now crimson ones

“Hello Sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“...Weird.”

He helps you up and for a moment he only holds you in his arms, finally not needing to hold back his strength

Lets out a laugh when you hug him back a little to roughly

“Careful Darling, your not the weak one anymore.”

“Bitch please, I was never weak.”

That earned another laugh

He helped you adjust  to your new life as a vampire

and helped your mourn your old life

Although you struggle he is impressed by your self control

And is slightly envious

Everyone thinks you have no power

Until you touch Jasper on the shoulder and he jumps- surprised by the random image of the first time you had kissed vividly plays in his mind

Turns out you have the power Visual Projection like Zafrina from the Amazon coven

They actually enlist Zafrina’s help to train you

Jasper is more then thrilled at your talent, loving the fact that you can not only project your memories but others if they grant you access

After a month of you being a newborn Jasper physically can not hold back anymore

He whisks you away to a small cabin in Canada- under the guise of a reward for doing so well as a newborn

But when you get  there you pick up on why you’re truly there

Soft Kisses turn into hungry kisses, soft touches to the back of your neck turn into hands exploring every part of you

Let’s just say it’s a good thing your away from the rest of the family- and anyone else for the matter

You rest your head on his chest afterward, Jasper has a smug grin on his face just by feeling the emotions washing over you

You too spend an eternity together, protecting each other no matter what and savoring every last moment with each other

And for the first time in a long time, Jasper is truly happy

Uhm so this may have gotten away from me a bit.... but I’m trying to get back into writing so I decided why not write some of the ideas in my head? I hope at least some of you enjoyed :) Stay Safe everyone

[lizbotw]

Karasuno popsicle eating competition? 👀👀👀 (i saw you were bored so-)

Karasuno Popsicle Eating Competition

choco omg i loved this concept even though i was definitely not expecting it in the middle of fall, but also, i absolutely get. i spent all night thinking about this so thank you, you successfully cured my boredom, and now here it is, i finally wrote out all of my ideas. please enjoy because i had way too many thoughts about this ♡

Karasuno

100% Nishinoya’s idea.

What? He literally adores Garigari-kun popsicles. A proper popsicle enthusiast and therefore of course it would be none other than him that would come up with such a plan.

You would probably be walking home with the second-years after practice after a quick stop into Coach Ukai’s store to pick up snacks on the way.

Classic meat buns and crinkly packs of chips that always felt like they contained more air than well... chips—that’s what most of you had gotten. But Nishinoya? It was him and his trusty popsicle (soda flavored of course).

You had to stop too many times to keep track of because he kept devouring them before you could even blink and somehow the lucky bastard kept getting the ones with the sticks that qualify you to get another popsicle for free. You best believe he was cashing those in instantly.

You bumped Tanaka with your shoulder to get his attention, not taking your eyes off of the back of Noya as he disappeared up the hill and back to the store. “Why doesn’t he just buy a whole box of them at this point?”

“Mmm,” Tanaka hummed in agreement, hand deep in his bag of potato chips. He stuffed a few more in his mouth, crunching in thought. “Good point.”

Noya was never gone more than a few seconds and you didn’t even get the chance to reply before he came barreling down the hill, blue wrapper in his hand—prize secured it seemed.

The group didn’t resume walking just yet, waiting to see if finally Noya’s reign of exploiting Ukai’s store for free frozen treats would come to an end. (You were hoping the stick at the center of the popsicle would turn out to be blank, not have another cheesy message about how “You won an extra popsicle! Take this stick to any participating retailer to cash it in.”)

“Aren’t you tired of running back and forth?” That was Ennoshita, chewing on his meat bun and looking like he very much wanted to go home.

Noya pulled the popsicle out of his mouth to reply, tongue already stained blue. “Nope! It’s good cardio, plus I get a reward at the end!” As if to prove his point, Noya punctuated the end of his sentence by shoving the popsicle back into his mouth. It wouldn’t be long until he reached the stick and you guys would (potentially) have to wait another five minutes for him to repeat the process all over again.

“It makes sense to buy more than one though. We’re never going to get home at this rate,” Ennoshita grumbled. He was clearly too tired to be dealing with this or he would have dragged Noya away from the store by his ear a long time ago.

Before Noya could bring up the benefits of running up and down a hill in the middle of the night (on a school night nonetheless) again, Tanaka cut in. “Yeah, why don’t you buy an extra one for me, dude. Then we’ll match!”

It was like a switch was flipped and Noya’s eyes lit up, widening. “Dude, great idea!”

“Right? It was (Y/N)’s idea actually.”

“Tanaka, that was not what I said.” You were quick to defend yourself, casting a nervous side glance at Ennoshita who was already glaring daggers at you.

“Either way, I still think it’s a good idea. I’ll be right back-”

“Oh no you don’t.” Ennoshita grabbed a hold of the back of Noya’s shirt to prevent him from running off (he’d already gotten in position to run up the hill—getting two steps in before he’d been stopped—and if Ennoshita had been a second slower Noya would have gotten away completely).

“Even if you did get one for Ryuu, I don’t know if it’d be very fair,” Narita cut in. Clearly he was just being nice and thinking about everyone, but words had a tendency to get twisted when it came to matters like this, especially when the other second-years were involved.

“Yeah, what are the rest of us, Yuu? Chopped liver?” Kinnoshita finished off his meat bun and crumpled the empty napkin he’d been holding it with into a small ball in his hand to throw away later. He was smirking mischievously and you could tell he wasn’t exactly opposed to the idea of free popsicles.

“True. You really should be offering to get all of us one.” Of course Ennoshita was the one to deliver the final blow. The trio could be real menances when they wanted to be and judging by the look they all shared, they were clearly enjoying poking fun at Noya.

And of course Nishonya took their words seriously, a thoughtful expression taking over his features. Sarcasm? Not detachable when it came to popsicles. “You’re right.” Uh oh… Nishinoya having that faraway look in his eyes was never a good sign. “And if I get it for all of you then… I should just get for the entire team!” His voice increased in volume as he spoke until he had the sudden epiphany at the end that he shouted. Energized by the thought, he made to go run towards the store again but seemed to forget the vice grip Ennoshita still had on him.

Nishinoya struggling against the hold and Ennoshita trying to pull him back so you guys could finally go home and work on your excessive amount of homework quickly turned into a yelling match. You should have known it would turn out this way...

It looked like things were about to get messy, so you decided to intervene, speaking hurriedly before someone lost a limb in the scuffle. “I think it’s a good idea. Let’s just all go ask Ukai now if we can have popsicles tomorrow for practice and then we can go home.” You said the last part looking pointedly at Ennoshita—listen, you were also tired so you knew exactly how to get through to him. How Noya could keep going like this after a full day was beyond you.

There were a few more moments of grumbling and arguing but eventually everyone caved and agreed. And thus you six made the trek back up the small incline to the store perched off to the side. (“No, Nishinoya, we can’t ask him to bring only soda flavored ones. Where is the variety?”)

The jingle of the bell had Ukai looking up from the magazine he was reading and he fixed all of you with an exasperated stare. “You six again? Don’t you have homework or something?”

It didn’t take much convincing to get him on board and he waved a dismissive hand, leaning back in his chair, cigarette between his lips, and opening back up his magazine. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just get home already. I don’t want to be responsible for you getting back so late.”

He for sure delivered on his promise because the next day at practice you found a cooler hidden away in the storage closet in the gym. About an hour into a grueling practice session, he called for a break and revealed the surprise (thank god because Nishinoya had been buzzing with anticipation all day, almost spilling the secret several times, and you were sick and tired of it, please send help).

To say the team was excited was an understatement. The sweltering heat of the gym wasn’t exactly ideal and everyone was dying to go out into the summer sun—at least in the outdoors you had the chance of a light breeze whispering across your neck and relieving some of the suffocating tension of the weather.

Moving everything outside, you helped set up the cooler in the nearby school field.

Takeda was surprised that Ukai even considered doing something like this out of the blue and you overheard Ukai admit that he had been working the team pretty hard for the past few days and that they deserved a break.

The atmosphere was relaxed as some of the team members took up residence on the grassy field, sitting among the bright green and running their hands over the cushiony ground as they got situated.

Leave up to Nishoinya to completely ruin that.

Parking himself right in front of the cooler near the top of the hill and thus preventing anyone from gaining access to the mouthwatering treats inside, he declared, hands on his hips for emphasis, “We should make this a competition!”

Daichi was not having it. “Nishinoya, get down from there, we are not-”

“Challenge accepted!” Hinata and Kageyama were already glaring at each other, determination written all over their faces. (You’re pretty sure either Tanaka or Nishinoya told him some lie before about how eating an ungodly amount of popsicles would make him better at volleyball.) At this point, they were simply waiting for Nishinoya’s signal to begin.

“Now that’s the spirit! Let’s start!” And with that Noya stepped away from the cooler with a dramatic sweep of his arm, bowing low. That’s all the confirmation Hinata and Kageyama needed before they made a beeline for the cooler—you should make sure not to get in their way during this part because they are taking this very seriously.

Tsukishima would just scoff at their childishness, telling them to hurry up and move because they’re hogging all the space.

Tsukishima would not participate in “stupid competitions” of any kind, although he would take a popsicle (begruidngly so after Yamaguchi kept pestering him to do so; secretly he really wanted one though).

You could probably find Tsukishima sitting on the gym steps, rolling his eyes at Hinata and Kageyama. He was also the perfect distance away to throw snide comments at them without risking his safety. Just adding fuel to the flames from the sidelines—that was his role.

Yamaguchi would be perched faithfully next to him eating his own popsicle and Yachi would be leaning up against the side of the gym building since there was no more space left on the steps, talking with him. She kept getting over excited or focusing too much on the conversation though, so the sticky juice of her melting popsicle would be trickling down her arm before you could warn her.

She gets very embarrassed over the whole thing once you point it out and then when she’s busy flailing her arms in apology, that just gets the juice everywhere and then she feels even worse about it, and it’s a whole cycle from there.

If you wanted to join the trio, Tsukishima would not be willing to give up his spot on the steps, but if you kept bothering him about it, he’ll probably give in eventually to get you to shut up or you could take your chances trying to shove him over.

Yamaguchi would take pity on you and squeeze over a bit so you would have room, even though he barely had any space for himself.

Or honestly just go stand next to Yachi, she would be more than happy to have someone else to talk to. The only thing is you have to keep an eye on her melting popsicle or else the above scenario will probably happen except you’ll be right next to her when it does. I sure hope you didn’t wear your favorite shirt today.

Kiyoko is the unofficial referee for the competition.

She was appointed after a unanimous vote was taken between Tanaka and Nishinoya—yes, only those two got a say in it—and technically she would be the official referee if not for the fact that the official default for Karasuno is always pure chaos. Rules? There were no rules. Was this even a competition anymore? Why is everyone taking this so seriously? Does no one have any ideas for a prize for the winner? Why is Asahi on the floor?

Speaking of Asahi, he’s in charge of giving out the popsicles and supervising them in the cooler.

Noya tried to get him to join in on the real action of competing, but Suga and Daichi were absolutely against it because Asahi just looks like he would win. To them, that was automatically cheating (poor Ashai).

Kiyoko helps him out because she doesn’t have much of a job if the boys are doing whatever the hell they want anyway.

Please go hang out with those two at the cooler. You’ll have direct access to all of the popsicles (you now hold all the power) and you can actually relax and have a calm conversation—perfect for some lounging around in the sun. And if you did want to witness the chaos of the competition? Well you also have a front row seat to that. It’s a win-win situation honestly.

Nishinoya and Tanaka were, of course, a part of the competition with Hinata and Kagayama. Now the debate of whether the challenge was to eat as many popsicles as possible or to just eat a certain amount as fast as possible was up in the air because by God, they were doing both. That couldn’t be healthy.

Daichi originally started off just watching from the sides, shaking his head in disapproval and barking reminders at them to slow down lest they choke while on his watch.

Suga was next to him of course, eating his own popsicle and telling him not to be such a stick in the mud. He was enjoying this a little too much and honestly was already hatching a mischievous plan to join in on the chaos himself. Definitely cheers for everyone in order to rile up the situation further and then elbows Daichi in the gut when he tells him to stop encouraging them.

On one such occasion, as he rubbed at the sore spot on his side that Suga kept hitting, Daichi narrowed his eyes at the popsicle in his friend’s hand, taking special notice of it now. “Suga… what flavor is that?”

“Cherry. Why?” He continued eating innocently, although he had an inkling of where this was going to go.

“Didn’t you have two cherry ones already?”

“...maybe.”

There was a gasp of betrayal. “You know those are my favorite! You’re trying to eat all of them before me aren’t you!”

The bold accusation leads to them sharing a look and a tense beat of silence passing before they both sprint to the cooler, digging among the other flavors for the highly coveted cherry.

“It’s mine!”

“No, you have to learn to share!”

They inadvertently end up in the competition through this alone, grabbing as many cherry popsicles as they can and piling their arms high.

You have to remind them that the popsicles are going to melt if they keep that up and then there will really be none left, which then sends them into a new flurry of ripping open the packages and chomping down on the glistening red treat inside.

If you join in on the competition, I hope you have a big appetite because everyone involved is not slowing down anytime soon. They’ve doubled over due to brain freeze a few times already but that doesn’t seem to be stopping any of them. If you chicken out at some point, you will be socially outcasted. You have been warned.

Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita are actually being normal and sitting a bit away on the grass, eating their popsicles at a normal rate (not scarfing them down like some people) and actually enjoying themselves.

Ideal group to join—lots of space to sit near them and stretch out on the field, good view of the uh… “competition” (can it really even be still considered that? what do you call the absolute chaos that’s going on there? honestly, why is no one stopping them? where are you, coach? isn’t this your job?) but still a safe distance away from the chaos, and lots of things to discuss. That’s right, these three know all the drama going on in school so sit back, eavesdrop on the gossip, and enjoy. You may or may not choke on your popsicles a few times because how do they even know these things.

Lean back on the grass and bask in the sunlight with these three—the good vibes are there. You’ll probably all end up laying down in the grass after you finish eating and just talking, poking fun at each other and rolling around in the grass in laughter at the latest antic or joke you’ve come up with.

Coach Ukai probably should have thought this over a bit more because it’s hard to get anyone back to practice after having this small taste of freedom (also tensions are still high after the competition so no one wants to work with each other anyway—let’s hope the grudges don’t last long), so he basically gives up for the day and dismisses “practice” early (it had already spiraled way past that at this point so the term was used loosely).

Everyone who was involved in the competition either never wants to hear the word popsicle ever again or they’re feral for more once the cooler is empty (Nishinoya).

Who would’ve thought a normal walk home would turn out like this?

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Rabbit

Chapter Two. Pt One

After two years in Azkaban for how he treated you he was finally free. The only thing keeping him going was you. Now finally reunited with his Rabbit he thinks things will go easier for him. But Draco is struggling mentally and refusing to ask for help.

W! Heavy Ptsd, mental freak outs. Hearing voices, blood, bruises, cuts. Draco trying to convince himself he’s fine. Refusing to ask for help. Mental instability. The voices are the Dementors

Tags. @khemz1312 @squeaky-ducky @goofygobber @dracoslittlesunflower @trashyvicks @rosiehufflepuff @dracmalf0y-dm

It was him.. He found your shop , hes out .. hes.. He looks so broken, hurt, tired.

“Draco!” you ran over wrapping your arms around him crying hard into his chest trying to talk but nothing was making any sense. He was really here, after so long you could finally feel him against you , hear his heartbeat and feel his breathing on your head… but.. His heartbeat was slower than it should be and his breathing seemed to be staggered, was he trying to hide it ? Draco pulled you in closing his eyes just taking it in. He made it, alive.

She doesn't love you

We love you Draco

Come baaack...

“Draco?”

His breathing started to hitch.

Shes second guessing this whole thing.

“Draco?” you rubbed his chest so he would look at you. “You okay?”

The man shook his head getting rid of the voices and cupped your cheeks in his palms. “Is it really you, Rabbit?”

You giggled leaning into him. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Can we sit down?” he asked you looking around the shop not seeing anyone.

“Yes, wait here just gotta close up” gently you let go of him to go flip the OPEN sign over.

She hates this

Draco leaned on the counter holding his head. “Sshhut up….” he whispered.

You are not welcome here…

“Yes i am….”

Biscuit hopped over to the mans shaking hand to lay its head on it and the voices started to fade away. The man looked down to see the brown rabbit staring at him wiggling its nose. “I..” he flipped his hand over to scratch at the rabbits chin. “I cant tell her...this happens.”

You returned with a big smile on your face. “Aw he likes you already ! “ you picked up the rabbit holding him with one hand.

“Where did .. you get him..” Draco took your other hand following you up the stairs of your shop.

“The twins, graduation gift.cheeky bastards” you giggled nuzzling your cheek on the rabbit. “I love him though, hes helped a lot.”

“Rabbit..”

“Huh? Yes?” you sat Draco down in the living room and put Biscuit on his pillow.

Are you going to show her?

It might scare her.

He shook his head and started to unbutton his dress jacket. “I need to .. show you something.”

“Okay, whats wrong?” you joined Draco on the couch watching him pull his dress jacket off with shaky hands. “ Draco..?”

“Yes..?” his undershirt was pulled over his head .

“Your really shaky -..”

The bruises were a deep purple; they were all over his chest as if someone had been kicking him repeatedly in all the same spots. The middle of his chest, the lower half by his stomach and his arms around his shoulders.. All purple. Around his elbows had scratches from elbows to wrists that did not look good at all; they were sporadic red lines in all directions. His nails were short with red under them that seemed to not go away. His neck was full of cuts and his hands had cuts on them as well. You picked up one of Dracos hands to see his knuckles. Deep purple with fresh blood.

Told you the cuts would open…

Shes scared….

“Draco?”

He wasn't looking at you, just breathing hard and whimpering. “M’fine..”

“Stay right here okay?” you got up hurrying off into your restroom.

See?

She ran away from you

Your not the same person you once were

You cant fit in

Come back….

He shook his head but they just got louder.

Come back…

Come back…

Come back…

“Shut up…” Draco leaned on his knee holding his head up with his hand staring at the sleeping rabbit. “..b-b--biscuit…”

The rabbit opened an eye to see Draco on the verge of a breakdown. He got up hopping over cautiously so Draco could pick him up and set him on his lap.

Come…...ba.aa..ck..

He exhaled heavily once the voices left…

You had returned as well with some medicine and health potions. “Here, these will help, i made them” you held up the purple potion to him . “just drink this..”

Draco took the flask in a shaky hand drinking the sweet tasting liquid, he felt his body aches fade away and saw you wrapping up his knuckles. “I cant heal the bruises but.. “

“Do you still want me……”

“Huh?”

His hand cupped your cheek after putting the flask down. “Even if i look like this..”

“Draco id want you no matter what.” you kissed him. “Promise.”

He leaned into you heaving heavily. “Of course you would rabbit.”

Your arms wrapped around him to rub his back, his breathing was still off to you.. “Draco..what happened in..”

“I dont want to talk about it… not yet.” he cut you off fast. Dropping the conversation.

“Alright alright.. Lets go to bed instead.” you got up taking hsi wrapped hands in yours leading him up to the bed, Biscuit had hopped off Dracos lap to go back to his pillow to sleep.

It was a small room but you liked it, Draco ditched his pants, socks realizing he would need clothes . He looked at the bed staring at it for a long time. This would be the first night not in a cell…. In two years..

Its not the same

Don't you miss the cell?

Draco dug his hands in his hair, closing his eyes. “Shut up.. Leave me alone.”

We are a part of you now Draco.

We will never leave..

You came over moving the blanket down for him and pulling him over , your eyes down.

“Rabbit? Whats wrong?” he tipped your chin up seeing your sad face staring at him.

“The-the last time we … shared.”

He pressed you to him squeezing very tight. That night, that awful night , he was his worst.

Even she remembers that….

Awful…

Draco shook his head and leaned down to press his forehead to yours looking in your eyes. “Rabbit, I promise. I will never do that again.”

You waved your hand around ”i know.. Im just.. I want to “ you could not help but laugh. “ i want to snuggle.”

Draco hitched out a chuckle and kissed your forehead. “Oh Rabbit, of course.” you followed Draco into the bed and he pulled the covers up and laid your head on his chest. Soft.. comfortable.. Warm. it had been so long for him.

“Draco.. The light”

“Oh.” reaching out he grabbed the long string , his arm around you squeezed your shoulder as he pulled it making the room very dark. You snuggled into Draco and he did the same, running his fingers up and down your shoulder staring into the pitch black ceiling. This was not like the first night.. You were so scared of him.. Would not even face him in bed or look at him. Hes still amazed you stayed all night.

..

…

….

.

…..

A couple hours later. Draco was still awake holding your sleeping body.

Its dark isn't it ?

Draco shut his eyes, breathing slightly hard.

Remindssss us of the cell

Do you miss the dark..?

We miss the dark

“Leave me alone…”

But why? Dont you want to see us?

“ i want you to get out of my head..” his hands found his hair.

Do you think you can get rid of us on your own…?

His breathing was picking up, when he opened his eyes all he saw was darkness staring back at him, the room was starting to spin.

At least in the cell you had the moon…

The one light …

“Go … aa a- away…”

He got up in bed carefully laying you back down on his pillow.

She does not love you.

“Yes she does..” he got out of bed stumbling in the dark hitting the wall. “She does.. She loves me” he stammered out to the hallway feeling around for the light switch flipping it on. “Dammit Draco.. Your fine.. Pull it together…”

Are you sure…?

You can hardly walk..

“I just need some water… ignore them..” he shook his head, getting a small moment's peace. Draco found the kitchen slamming a cabinet open grabbing a glass. His wrist hit the sink turning on the water, he held the glass under getting the water more on his wrist then the cup.

You cant do things on your own anymore

The water was turned off and draco lifted the very shaky glass up to his lips while drinking .

Shes going to tell you to leave………

The glass shattered in Draco's hand waking you up to see the bed empty and the light on. “Draco?” quickly you got out of bed getting to the hallway just to stop when you heard him.

“I'm fine! Just needed some water…” his hands were bleeding . “go back to sleep Rabbit..”

“But.. I heard something.. Are you sure?” he heard your footsteps .

“Yes, Rabbit. Go to bed.” he tried to sound like he used to , when he had you under his finger in school. It must have worked because he heard you turn around and go back to bed. Draco leaned over the sink watching his tears hit the broken glass . “i … i cant tell her….”

[cuddlepilefics]

The lights went out

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Felix

Caregiver: mostly 3racha

 request by @kilixsstuff

Noone’s POV.:

It was late at night, when Felix startled from his sleep. He was drenched in sweat and disoriented. It was still dark outside, so the young Aussie had no idea what had woken him up. Seeing he still had three hours left till they needed to get up, Felix tried to go back to sleep but sleep wouldn’t come. Instead he became more aware of his sweat-soaked shirt and decided to change it quickly. The moment he got off the bed however, the room spun and his stomach turned along with the shift of his vision. Once he became of the nausea licking at the back of his throat, it was impossible to ignore it. Figuring it was better to move to the bathroom, just in case, the boy supported himself against the wall and snuck off as quiet as possible to not wake his roommates. On shaky legs he stumbled to the bathroom, flinching when the light stabbed his eyes. Only now did Felix become aware of the headache pounding mercilessly behind his brow. Switching off the light again, the dancer sat in the dark room, leaning against the bathtub close to the toilet. His mouth was watering and getting too tired and nauseous to swallow it all back, he hung his head over the bowl and just let it drip. True, he felt absolutely disgusting doing it but the boy was still sleepy. His eyelids kept closing and he was slowly drifting off again, when suddenly his body convulsed, sending a stream of last night’s dinner past his lips with barely any warning. Being startled awake again, the Aussie tried to suppress the next gag that pulled at his throat. He soon lost the fight, retching up more. Felix desperately tried to stay quiet, despite always craving comfort when he wasn’t feeling well, he didn’t want to wake any of his members. They were all exhausted and needed their sleep. His plan to let them sleep started to waver when a forceful heave scraped his throat and brought tears to his eyes. The soft sniffles turned into weak sobs, which turned into stronger hiccups that shook his frame and upset his stomach more, causing him to choke up small waves every now and then. By now his throat was on fire and his head thumped more than ever. Felix wouldn’t have found the strength to get up again, if it wasn’t for the chills, convincing him he wanted a warm shower and one of Chan’s sweaters over anything else, even if that meant he had to move.  

Getting his shirt of was a struggle. The damp fabric clung to the dancer’s back and his arms were felt weak and heavy. When the shirt finally came off, his arms shook from the effort. Felix sat in the shower and let the water run down his head and back, making his hair stick to his forehead. The hot water soothed the both, the chills and his aching muscles, when did they even get so sore anyways? The dancer completely lost track of time, not getting around to washing his hair because lifting his arms sounded way too exhausting to him. Instead, he stared into the drain for what felt like forever, dozing off, only to be brought back to his senses by the clenching of his stomach. Barely even trying, a weak gag brought up some bile. Dazed, Felix watched the small yellow trickle make its way to the drain. With a sigh, he turned off the water and forced himself up on shaky legs.

Wrapped in his towel, the young Aussie snuck back to his room, putting on loose sweatpants and stealing one of Chan’s hoodies from the leader’s closet, before curling up on his bed. They’d have to get up in thirty minutes anyways, so going back to sleep was not an option. Today their schedule consisted mostly of recording, so he was glad about not having to move too much. What he dreaded though, was the concert they’d have that night, which was also the reason he couldn’t tell his members about not feeling well. If he did, they’d probably nap while waiting for his turn to record but they’d also make him sit out during their concert and that was not an option. Felix loved Stay and would feel guilty if he didn’t give them his best, so he had to hide his struggle from his friends. He was mostly worried about Chan finding out, because the leader was so attentive and would always notice such things. The younger of the two Aussies usually hated when the other was stressed but today it was exactly what he hoped for, so the older wouldn’t pay as close attention to him.

When their alarm rang, Felix was immediately got up and got ready to ensure nobody would get the feeling he was lagging behind. “Hey Lix, are you not going to have breakfast with us?”, Changbin questioned, making Chan frown at the younger Aussie. The dancer paled at the thought of food but quickly managed to come up with an excuse: “I woke up really early today, hyung. Sorry, I already got hungry and didn’t wait for you.” The rapper accepted this with a nod, knowing the younger hated to resist his hunger and would usually eat right after getting up. To Felix this was the perfect strategy because he couldn’t possibly throw up again, if there was nothing inside him. Not being able to be around food, the boy went back to his room to wait for the others to get ready to head out. Being alone in his room also allowed him to let his guard down for only a bit, so he curled in on himself hugging one of his plushies and closing his eyes. “Hey, are you sure, you’re ok, Lixxie?”, Chan asked when he walked into their room to change. Startling, the younger sat up and forced a small and tired smile onto his face: “Don’t worry, hyung. I couldn’t sleep properly and was awake really early, so I’m kinda tired.” – “Ah, it’s ok. Maybe you could nap for a bit when it’s not your turn to record”, Chan offered, lifting a huge weight off the younger’s chest. Felix would get the chance to sleep at least a bit of his illness away without anyone noticing because they knew he was tired. “Thanks Channie”, he nodded and they both headed out.

The car ride to the studio was hell for Felix, the movement of the vehicle made his stomach churn and he could feel the small amount of liquid he drank slosh painfully with each turn of the road. Quietly, he rested his head on Jeongin’s shoulder and closed his eyes. The maknae giggled cutely and pet his hyung’s hair, whispering: “You really didn’t sleep much, hyungie?” The dancer shook his head, keeping his eyes shut. His members frowned in sympathy. They barely got enough sleep with the tight schedule they usually had, so not being able to sleep during a more relaxed night really sucked. Especially when there was a concert the next day. “If you want to, you can sleep on me when we’re at the studio, so you’ll be well rested for the concert later”, Changbin chuckled, smiling at the small “please”. They were all fine with Felix taking it a bit slower than usual and not being as energetic as usual. The dancer was glad about the affection he got from his friends without them even knowing how miserable he really felt.

Felix took Changbin up on his offer of becoming the Aussie’s human pillow as soon as they arrived at the studio. He was scheduled rather late anyways, so might as well get some sleep now. Only waking up again, when Changbin had to get up to record, Felix was hit with a wave of intense nausea and quickly got up. He tried to walk at a natural pace till he exited the room, then he darted down the hallway and bursting into the restroom. The dancer barely made it in time to retch up some watery bile. He was stunned that he even had anything in him to bring up but didn’t have much time to ponder on it before hunching over again. The strain made his already achy head pound harder and his throat burn. The dancer fought to settle his rebelling stomach, which was still trying to bring something up when there was nothing inside. When he was finally able to stop gagging, Felix tried to get up to rinse his mouth and wash his face but the combination of fever and skipping breakfast, not to mention the amount of sleep he lost, he was too weak and just fell back down. The Aussie was ready to break into tears right then and there but held it together. Trying again, Felix used the wall to pull himself up and took a second to get used to being upright. When the ground stopped moving under his feet, he quickly cleaned himself up and hurried to get back to his group, planning to find some gum to rid his mouth of the rancid taste.

“Hey, just in time. It’s your turn”, Seungmin announced when Felix walked in, “Whoa are you ok? You look shitty.” The young Aussie nodded and walked past his dongsaeng, ignoring a giggling Hyunjin: “And that, Felix, is exactly why it is called beauty-sleep.” – “Hey! I tried”, he whined, his voice even lower than usual. The poor boy was too out of it to notice the concerned frowns from his hyungs, while he was ushered into the recording booth. With his abused throat still on fire, the dancer did not have a good time recording. The notes wouldn’t come out clearly and his voice just sounded weak and flat. Of course, the producer was not amused, urging Felix to try harder and of course the Aussie did. Despite the dark spots dancing in his vision, he stayed upright, going over the same line again and again and again. Being a rapper, he had to pronounce words in a language that wasn’t his native fast and clearly. “Felix-si, you’re slurring your words. Once more and try to put some more power behind it. Your voice sounds flat”, the producer instructed, annoyance showing through.

Not really knowing what was happening, Felix was pulled from the recording booth before even getting to try again. Jisung had their arms linked and gently guided his twin back to the couch, while Chan spoke to the producer. The leader’s face was serious and his voice stern before he nodded and thanked the producer. “Hey mate, you don’t have to finish today. The producer agreed to let you do it tomorrow when you caught up on some sleep”, the oldest smiled comfortingly. He was taken aback when a small tear spilled from his dongsaeng’s eye and quickly wrapped the younger in a hug. Felix returned the hug, although he wasn’t strong enough to hold on as tightly as usual. Chan got closer to his ear, whispering quiet enough for only the dancer to hear: “You feel pretty warm to me, are you sure you’re alright?” Nodding against the older’s chest, Felix straightened up and dried his eyes, only to be met with the worried ones of his friends’. “It’s just the lack of sleep making him emotional and more sensitive”, the leader answered the unspoken question and Felix breathed in relief that his cover was still intact. Jisung came over, a small frown still present on his face when he announced: “Yah! Squirrel wants cuddles. Innie still needs to record anyways, so it’s your obligation to cuddle me.” Felix gave a small smile and gladly curled up in the shorter boy’s arms. It didn’t even take him a full minute to nod off, while his friend stroked his slightly sweat-dampened hair. Jisung came to the same conclusion as Chan when his hand lingered around the younger’s forehead for a moment. He made eye-contact with the leader and they agreed without words to keep a close eye on their dongsaeng. While cuddling Felix’ stomach growled loud enough for Jisung to hear, so the rapper gently rested his palm on the younger’s middle and felt it rumble uncomfortably beneath his fingers. It might just be hunger but with the unnatural heat the boy was radiating, he was almost sure his friend was sick. Now that he thought about it, Felix had also spent a pretty long time in the bathroom earlier.

Felix stayed asleep, even when Chan carried him to the car that would take them to the venue they’d perform at. He had apparently slept through lunch, which worried Chan because his alleged breakfast had been a long time ago and Felix was already weak from the lack off sleep and possible illness, so going on stage without a proper meal was probably not the best idea. The dancer still didn’t wake up when Jisung got him situated in the car and buckled his seatbelt. Despite most of the members chuckling at how wiped their friend was, they agreed to let him get as much sleep as possible before the show. When they arrived at the venue, everybody entered, except for Changbin, who was tasked with waking Felix up. The younger didn’t seem very pleased at being pulled from his rest but let the rapper pull him along anyways. “Are you sure you can do this, Lix? If you’re not up for the show, I’m sure we can have you sit out somehow”, the older worried. He knew something had to be up because he had seen Felix sleep-deprived before and it wasn’t the same. “Of course! Binnie-hyung, we’ve all performed with even less sleep before. I’ll be fine, just….”, Felix hesitated, “can I have cuddles tonight? I just.. I always…. You know, it helps me sleep…” – “Sure thing, just don’t hurt yourself during the show”, Changbin smiled, giving the younger a quick side-hug before walking into their dressing room.

The time passed without Felix even noticing. He barely payed any attention to his surroundings because his nausea had reached another peak and he was debating whether to go and get rid of some stomach acid before going on stage. The decision was made for him, when he was pushed and suddenly found himself on stage, stage lights burning down on him mercilessly. He felt bile rising in his throat, the sensations of a screaming crowd and blinding lights too much for his fever frazzled brain. Felix took deep breaths through his nose, willing the nausea away, while Chan greeted the crowd. Soon the first song started to play and they got onto their starting positions. The dancer was terrified, remembering all the spins and turns he’d be doing in the next two hours. The first song went unexpectedly well and the young Aussie’s nerves eased a bit. His movements were a bit less sharp than usual but the only people who could tell were his members. Felix head swam, he felt way too hot for comfort and no matter how much he breathed, it didn’t feel like there was enough air. He knew he was probably dehydrated but he didn’t dare to even touch his water bottle. The dancer was proved right when after a jump, his stomach lurched into his throat, filling his mouth with pure stomach acid. He quickly swallowed it back down, which only burned his throat once more, without missing a single beat with his steps. Dancing was truly his element but right now it was one of the last things he wanted to do. With each grueling choreo, the dancer kept bringing up small amounts of bile, always facing them back down. He didn’t think anyone really noticed but it certainly showed in his voice. His voice got weaker and hoarser, despite him straining to make it sound powerful. They hadn’t even reached the half when his members had to start giving him background vocals. Mostly it were Changbin and Jisung, sometimes Chan.

Felix impressed himself when he walked off the stage after the last stage, without passing out somewhere in between or covering the stage in puke. Having sweat a lot from all the dancing, the boy finally allowed himself a drink. The cool water felt soothing on his throat and it washed away the bitter taste that he hadn’t been able to get rid of. Before he knew it, Felix had chugged the entire bottle, already gulping down the second when he was stopped by Chan’s hand on his wrist: “Hey, slow down mate! You’ll make yourself sick.” The dancer suddenly paled, noticing how bad of a mistake he had made because his hyung was certainly right about worry. “You ok?”, the leader frowned as he noticed his dongsaeng standing completely frozen. The younger replied with an urgent shake of the head before giving a wet burp. Chan silently cursed, dragging Felix towards the closest restroom. The younger knew, he wouldn’t be able to make it in time but he still made an effort to quickly follow his hyung, not wanting to make a mess. They almost made it, when the dancer suddenly stumbled, catching himself with an arm against the wall. A gush of water shot past his lips, splashing onto the ground, only to be joined by another, bigger wave. The sick boy, coughed, choking as he tried to get a breath in before bending over with his hands on his knees and throwing up again. Chan had an arm looped around the younger’s waist to steady him, while his other hand delivered firm pats between the younger’s shoulder blades to clear his airways again. Having caught his breath, Felix straightened back up, gripping onto Chan’s arm as his world was sent spinning. The leader switched from patting his back to rubbing it comfortingly as he took in the younger’s appearance. The dancer was even more drenched in sweat than any of them, his eyes were glazed over with circles so dark that not even his concealer could hide them. Felix swallowed thickly, chapped lips forming a small pout when the tears finally came.  Heart clenching in sympathy, the older pulled him close to both comfort and steady him because the dancer looked like he’d topple over at any second. The moment only lasted a split second though, because Felix was quick to push Chan away, heaving violently. Despite the obvious effort, only a small stream of water came up. He spat, trying to get rid of the stubborn string of saliva that dangled from his lips, when suddenly the lights went out and his knees buckled.

The only thing that kept Felix from falling into the puddle by his feet were Chan’s strong arms around his small waist. Although he was incredibly worried, it wasn’t like the leader hadn’t expected him to faint at some point, so it didn’t come as too much of a shock. Carefully, he pulled the younger a few steps away and sat down on the ground with an unconscious Felix in his lap. The older used this opportunity to feel for a fever before lightly patting his dongsaeng’s pale cheeks. With the scalding temperature of his forehead, one would expect Felix to be sporting a noticeable blush but he was just so pale that the makeup looked wrong on him. His breathing was still quickened and shallow when his eyebrows twitched, wrinkling his forehead. “Lix, hey you with me?”, Chan asked gently, glad that they were in an empty hallway away from the chaos of their dressing room. The younger just groaned before blinking his eyes only to squeeze them shut again. Felix took his time to fully wake up, while Chan glanced at the puddle of sick a few feet away. It was plainly clear water, not even a hint of undigested food residues. That’s when he remembered the younger sleeping through lunch. Now that he thought of it, he also hadn’t seen Felix have dinner and with how hard the dancer was trying to cover up him being sick, that could likely have been a lie. The dancer tried to sit up, falling right back into the older’s lap before rasping a confused: “Hyung?” – “It’s ok, Lixxie. You just blacked out for a second”, Chan soothed, trying to sound as calm as possible, “you’re also sporting quite a fever. You were aware you were sick?” Defeated and ashamed for lying, Felix gave a small nod before covering his face. The leader ran a hand through his dongsaeng’s sweaty bangs to let him know it was ok before speaking up again: “Do you think we should go to the hospital? You passed out and you still don’t look to great.” The younger shook his head, this time succeeding to sit up. “Can we go home? I wanna sleep and Binnie promised me cuddles”, the dancer mumbled.

Chan agreed and ended up carrying Felix back to their dressing room. The younger had used up more energy during the show than he had to begin with. Changing and getting his makeup removed happened in a blur for Felix but he recognized Chan’s hoodie, when he was carried to the car. He was sitting between Changbin and Jisung, the younger stuffing a few plastic shopping bags into the slit between the seats for quick and easy access, should Felix need to be sick again. Chan had told the members about what happened and why they had been gone for so long. The group had quickly come down from their post-performance hype and discussed whether taking the young Aussie home was really that great of an idea. The leader had shushed them stating, they could still take him to a hospital later, should he get any worse. The oldest knew about Felix hatred for hospitals and wanted to give him the chance of recovering in a surrounding he was comfortable with.

Felix slept through the entire car ride, staying asleep when Changbin carried him into the building and up to their dorm. They had been debated on whether the dancer should still take a shower before bed, because he had sweat the most out of all of them and would definitely not be able to rest comfortably like that. Reminding them Felix wasn’t able to stand by himself, Chan proposed letting the other have a short cool bath, that way they might as well lower his fever. It would make all of them wait for their shower longer but nobody minded, pitying their sunshine after learning why he had been so drained today. Jisung ran the bath, using only lukewarm water and a soap with a very discreet scent, not wanting to overwhelm his twin. Changbin helped a drowsy Felix out of his clothes and supported his weight when the dancer struggled to climb into the tub. Chan soon returned with a fresh set of clothes, consisting of a set of his sweatpants and a large sweater from Changbin. The younger Aussie was already starting to drift to sleep in the water, so the leader gently helped him sit up and washed his hair, as he both tried to make it feel nice but also finish quickly, so the dancer could get his much-needed sleep. As soon as they had Felix in his fresh clothes, the oldest carried him to the room they shared with Changbin and tucked the younger in. Changbin was the first of them to be granted with a shower, so he could make up on the promise he had given to Felix. Finishing up as quickly as he could, the rapper snuck into his room, quiet so he wouldn’t wake Felix, who was most likely already asleep. Chan had already placed a bucket next to the dancer’s bed and there were an electrolyte drink and a bottle of plain water on the nightstand. Changbin carefully slipped into bed next to Felix and held him close after a quick kiss on his feverish forehead.