#but then I also did wake up with a headache and a lot of pain in the rest of my body

[silens-oro]

Well Enough Alone: Part IX

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Andrew "Pope" Cody x f!Reader (nicknamed Hawk) Prologue Cut the Loss (companion piece) Part I Part II Chicken Hawk (companion piece) Part III Part IV Trespassing (companion piece) Part V Part VI Slowly We Unfurl (companion piece) Hold on to the Thread (companion piece) But I'll Always Remember (pre-WEA companion piece)

Masterlist Pope Cody Playlist GirlDad!Pope Baby AU Masterlist

General Synopsis: Everything comes to a head. Word Count: 5.9k Content Warning: typical animal kingdom warnings, heavy angst, mention of miscarriage, murder, Baz & Hawk straight up beefin'. AN: Don't ask me how I wrote this entire thing today because I do not have an answer for you. Here's a lil Friday treat since you all have been so kind. Also, "treat" is used very loosely here because this one is going to hurt 🤭 please comment & reblog :)

Pope didn’t come home at all that night and Hawk didn’t wait up for him. She set an alarm before falling asleep in the vast emptiness of her bed so she could wake up with enough time to make Lena some breakfast before school, and then promptly passed out at 4:30 that morning. Pope usually handled anything early in the morning since he was up anyway, but in his on and off absence the last couple of weeks, Hawk took the reins just like she did this morning. She fell back into the routine she had with J when he was Lena’s age, and she came to the realization that she truly missed those years.

Nicky helped carry Lena out to the car for Hawk since her ribs were still giving her trouble, and Lena only cracked her eyes open for a moment when Hawk was buckling her into the backseat. 

“I get to go with you and Uncle Pope tonight?” Her tiny voice mumbled out. 

“Of course you do, sweetpea.” Hawk replied sweetly. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this tonight. To make up for it, how about some pancakes in the morning before school? I’ll even do some with chocolate chips. Sound good?” 

“With the smiley faces?”

“Absolutely. Can’t have chocolate chip pancakes without smiley faces. That’s just not right.” Hawk joked with a grin. Lena sleepily smiled back and nodded, her eyes fluttering closed as she lost the uphill battle with the sandman. Hawk gently closed the door before meeting Pope at the driver's side with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Thank you for coming to get her.” 

“You know me –someone calls my phone and I answer.” 

“Hawk-”

“-It’s just weird how you answered J’s call, but I haven’t been able to get a hold of you all day, Pope.” Hawk was exhausted, mentally and physically and he could see it. Hawk’s eyes burned and her body ached, and that headache she tried to hold off was barreling its way forward behind her eyes every time she blinked. “Apparently you didn’t learn the last time -I’m not doing this again, Andy. I’m tired. I’m exhausted. I’m in pain. This family is driving me up the fucking wall and I can’t worry about when you’ll turn up again when you decide to fall off the face of the fucking Earth while also worrying about Lena.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need an apology, Pope. I just need you to be present. I have no idea what the hell Baz is doing, but Lena could’ve been killed tonight for his negligence –do you understand that? And he’s bringing Lucy here after Smurf is suddenly arrested?” Hawk shook her head, looking around the trashed driveway. “Something isn’t adding up with any of this, Pope. I don’t know what Baz did to get her locked up, but you, Deran, and Craig need to be careful. He’s never been trustworthy. I know you love him like a brother, but my gut has never been wrong. I may not always listen to it, but it is never wrong. I need you to trust me on that.” He nodded, looking past her through the windshield to Lena’s sleeping figure that was slumped over in the backseat. “Smurf is a lot of things, but she isn’t stupid. We both know that. She does stupid things, but she’s calculated. She didn’t want Lucy in this family’s business for a reason.” Pope stepped forward, hesitating before pulling Hawk to him in a hug. He kissed the crown of her head and her arms draped themselves loosely around his waist. God, he needed her. Her touch, her warmth, her love. Everything about her, he would take and take and take until she refused to give. 

Selfish

Selfish

Selfish, his brain chanted. 

“I’ll be home later, after I’m done dealing with this.” He spoke softly into her ear as he let his head fall into the crook of her neck. His lips found their home just behind her ear and he felt her breathe against him. 

“Yeah.” Hawk sighed with a subtle shake of her head as she pulled away from Pope before turning to get in the driver’s seat. Pope thought back to the gun he held in his hands right before J called him, and how ready he was to end everything at that lifeguard stand on the beach. All he could think about was Cath, about the conversation he had with that detective, about the fact that she didn’t flip on them. He thought about how he was the source of Hawk’s problems as of late, whether she knew they stemmed from him or not. He ended one woman’s life that he cared about, and was actively ruining another’s that he loved. 

And Lena…all of her problems, present and future, were because of a choice he made. 

“Hawk,” Pope called out to her, his voice cracking as he looked at her with an infinite sadness that penetrated her heart. He cleared his throat when she held the door open, waiting for him to continue. “I love you. Both of you. Let me know when you get home, alright? So I know you’re safe.” Hawk nodded, albeit reluctantly.

Pope's behavior was off, way more off than his usual scale of what he dealt with -what she was used to. This Pope…this Pope was desolate, starved, trapped. He was drowning in a way she couldn’t recognize nor comprehend, but he refused to let her in for any kind of solace. She knew he needed it, but how can you save someone who didn’t think they deserved to breathe in the first place?  

“I love you, too, Andy.” Hawk whispered. “Don’t stay out too late.”

Hawk recalled a conversation she had with Pope about kids of their own, and her chest tightened as she thought about doing all of this while pregnant. The stress alone would probably make her miscarry, and she had to bite her lip to stop from outwardly crying as she mixed the batter for the pancakes she promised Lena. The idea of bringing an infant into this dynamic -a dynamic that was only eroding by the day, made a deep rooted dread pool in the pit of her stomach because while she didn’t deserve to deal with the mess that was happening, and a baby sure as hell didn’t either. 

The sound of the front door opening and closing with a click broke Hawk out of her thoughts. She took a deep, shuddering breath as she puttered around the kitchen to keep herself busy. Pope didn’t know what to say to Hawk as he approached the noise coming from the kitchen. He didn’t know what there was to say. 

“Can you wake Lena up? I’m about to start some pancakes.” Hawk didn’t look at him as she turned the stove on, grabbing a pan from the drawer underneath the stove.  

“J has power of attorney over Smurf’s assets.” Pope muttered as he stood out of Hawk’s way. He saw her brows scrunch together as she ladled small dollops of batter onto the griddle pan. She let them cook for a few moments, letting them start to bubble on top before she added chocolate chips in a smiley face design. “Do you know anything about that?” Pope’s tone wasn’t accusatory. He didn’t think she’d keep something like that from him, but he still had to ask.

And it still irked Hawk that he did. 

“Why would I know anything about that? Why would I know anything about Smurf’s business?” She snapped at him, spatula in hand as she turned to face him. 

“Baz framed her for killing Javi.” Hawk scoffed, flipping the pancakes over.

“Didn’t she?” Hawk asked sarcastically as she put the pancakes on a plate before adding more batter to the griddle. That whole situation was another mess. Hawk told Pope to let her know when it was done, and she let it rest after that. No questions, no explanations. Done was done.

“Smurf paid Javi’s own guy to do it so she wouldn’t be tied to it. Baz knew where the body was, and tied her to the scene by planting all the evidence and called it in.” 

“What did I tell you? What did I tell you.” Hawk said with a shake of her head. “Were any of your brothers in on it?”

“No,” Pope sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "And neither was J."

“Can’t say I’m surprised he finally bit Smurf in the ass. The whole ‘snake eating itself’ thing -can't say it isn't jingling my jimmies. She was smart to move things over to J before Baz knew what was coming. I’m guessing it happened when you guys pulled your little coup against her because God forbid her darling boys not follow her word as scripture. I’m more surprised that Baz didn’t think he’d be punished for it. Lord knows she’s done worse to you guys for less. I’m sure Baz had a very stable reaction to that news when he found out.” 

“He’s pissed, and it put a target on J’s back.” Hawk hummed in response.

“How do you feel about it?”

“I think she was right to take Baz off of the accounts. She’s not just punishing Baz -she’s punishing all of us. She knows J isn’t going to let go of anything without her saying so while she’s locked up. He wanted to sell everything and split it.”

"And you don't?"

"No. If he's lucky, she stays in there until she's dead. But Baz isn't lucky."

"No he is not." Hawk added her two cents. “Baz shouldn’t have crossed mommy dearest.” She said with a shrug. “If J signed those papers, then he’s well aware of the consequences that may pop up -and I’m sure Smurf told him as much. If he thinks he can handle doing the shit you guys do, then I can’t stop him.” Hawk plated the first set of little pancakes along with some cut strawberries for Lena. “Now can you please wake Lena up before her food gets cold?” Pope was thrown by her nonchalance, especially towards J. He watched her move around the kitchen for a moment, but did as she asked, trying to not rock the boat that was slowly taking on water once again. 

A couple days had passed and Pope was still tiptoeing around Hawk. She wasn’t unwelcoming or rude, but she let him know loud and clear that she was frustrated with him. She didn’t let it show while Lena was in the room with them, but when it was just the two of them, it was abundantly clear. 

Pope wanted to touch her, to hold her, to be held by her. He knew she was still having nightmares, that she wasn’t sleeping at night like she used to. He saw it on her face day in and day out that she was struggling, but she wouldn’t talk to him about it because she felt like she couldn’t talk to him about it. He was emotionally unavailable as of recent and she felt like she was adrift out at sea without so much as a goddamn paddle. 

Hawk would busy herself at the shop when she wasn’t with Lena. That was the place she haunted when she would have normally been home because there was nothing there for her while Pope was MIA and Lena was with Baz or at school. Making arrangements and bouquets, re-potting houseplants and getting plants ready in the greenhouse to move up front to the storefront kept her mind and hands busy in a way she desperately craved as an escape from reality.

She’d have to catch herself on days she leaned a little too hard into being mean -not just to Pope either. This funk Hawk had been in was pushing her into a decline she was starting to see for herself and she didn’t like it for a single second, but there was only so much a person could bend before they broke. She gave, and gave, and gave, and gave, but sometimes it felt good to not give -not because she couldn’t, but because she didn’t want to.

Hawk knew she needed to speak with someone about all of this -a therapist preferably, but how could she frame the mess that was her life without giving the real context of what it was?   

Pope and Hawk dropped off Lena that morning at school, then headed to Smurf’s. Hawk didn’t have a good feeling about whatever they were going to walk into with this family meeting, but Pope asked her to be there. He knew she didn’t want any involvement in the politics of the family, and she hadn’t been part of a family meeting since Pope got arrested, but he had seen first hand what was going on with Baz -that he was up to something- and he needed her there with him. 

Now as she sat on the red sofa in the den next to Pope (purposefully not thinking about what she had seen happen on the cushion she occupied during that house party), his hand rested on her thigh, she would’ve rather not been involved at all. Her eyes caught J’s and she nodded to let him know that she knew. He gave a nod back, his eyes meeting Baz’s when he stepped between them.

“What’s she doing here?” Baz motioned to Nicky. 

“Weird question." Hawk spoke up before J could answer. "What’s she doing here?” Hawk gestured to Lucy with an incredulous laugh, who only looked at Hawk with a smug tilt to her lips. Hawk only grew more irritable as the days passed and she had no tolerance for whatever Baz was about to pull. 

“I asked her to be here.” Baz replied simply. 

“Interesting.” Hawk said, keeping her eyes on Lucy. 

“I invited Hawk. I’m sure J invited Nicky.” Pope shrugged as he spoke. 

“I did.” J confirmed, silently thanking Pope for speaking up.

“Fine.” Baz paced the den between Hawk and J. “Smurf gave J her power of attorney, so now J controls all the properties, the investments, the bank accounts, this house, the titles to our cars, everything. Everything that we earned that she stole from us.” Hawk’s eyes glanced at Pope, but he was watching J. “She gave it to J because she doesn’t trust us-”

“-She doesn’t trust you.” J spoke up, his words clear. Hawk felt pride when he looked Baz directly in the eye as he spoke without a single stutter. Hawk didn’t miss the look Baz shot at him as he tried to continue to manipulate the situation back in his favor. He was trying to turn the brothers against J, Hawk realized. 

“Didn’t trust us to keep it safe for her. She thinks it’s all hers, not ours. What do you plan on doing with it, J? Hm? Everything that we earned —sweated over, bled for— hmm? Planning on selling it, like we all wanna do?”

“Like you want to do.” J corrected Baz. Hawk could see the veins in Baz’s neck starting to bulge with every push back that J gave him, and that his brothers weren’t stepping in didn't help either. Everyone was curious to see how this was going to play out. For all of Deran and Craig's flaws, they weren’t completely stupid -Deran least of all. He could see the forest through the trees, and Hawk could see that he was miffed that Baz didn’t include any of them on this. And if Deran wasn’t on board, then neither was Craig because where one went, the other inevitably followed.

“Oh, is it just me? Am I the only one who wants to sell it?” Baz circled the room. “Pope? Deran? Craig?” Hawk couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her, as hard as she tried. Pope’s hand squeezed her thigh in warning, but the second Baz spun to confront Hawk, she placed a hand on Pope’s flexing forearm. 

“Something funny?” Baz directed his irritation to Hawk.

“I mean, yeah.” Hawk outwardly chuckled this time, not holding it in. “I’m laughing because you really thought you out-manipulated the master of manipulation, Baz.” Hawk crossed her arms over her chest as she sat back, her grin never faltering because she knew it would make him unravel. “Smurf will always be five steps ahead of you because she knows you think you’re smarter than you actually are. This dog and pony show-” She motioned with her hand, “-will only get you so far when you’re not looking at the whole picture. Even I know that.” Baz’s eyes turned into slits as he glared at Hawk.

“Were you in on this with them?” Hawk shook her head, her grin fracturing the facade he put up because she knew exactly what to do to get a rise out of him and it seemed that J had picked up on it too in her absence. 

“I didn’t need to be. And I also don’t need to be a goddamn genius to know that Smurf is like a roach. Unless you take her out for good, you’ll never ever get a leg up on her." She held her hands up, "But what do I know?” 

“You think you’re so goddamn smart, huh?” She shrugged, leaning into Pope’s side as she crossed her legs.  

“I’d say I’m smart enough to not put my bloody feet in a piranha tank, yeah, but some people just don’t learn their lesson when it comes to getting bit, do they Baz?” Pope squeezed her leg again, but he still didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to speak for her or defend her honor, they all knew that. She always held her own when she needed to when it came to the boys of this family -it was Smurf who made her shrink back down to size.

“Well you keep finding yourself back in this fucking house, Hawk, so I’d have to agree with you.” Baz spat. He was fuming and everyone in the room could see it. Hawk leaned forward, still smiling at him knowingly. 

“Whether I’m inside of this house or not, my life doesn't start or end because of Smurf, Baz. You, as you've just learned, can’t say the same.” Hawk felt Pope pull her back into his side and she let him.

“Why didn’t you tell us about what you were planning to do with Smurf?” Craig broke through their bickering. Hawk was right -they were upset he didn’t include them, but it went deeper than that. If Baz was holding out on something as important as this, then he’d hold out on other things too -that's what it all came down to with them. 

“I didn’t think you were strong enough to go through with it.” Baz tried to sound like he cared, that he did it for their own good, but that bit had been thrown out the window. Deran scoffed.

“Strong enough? Screw you, Baz.” He spoke up, picking at the label of the beer bottle he was holding. Hawk could see Baz’s hackles rise as he continued to get pushback from around the room when he was expecting everyone to fall in line. 

“Yeah, strong enough.” Hawk couldn’t help but feel vindicated as Baz started to bicker with Deran and Craig. Her knowing look when she caught J’s eyes gave him a boost of confidence that he’d hold onto. “Little Deran running away every time mommy hurts his feelings.” Baz taunted.

“Careful, Baz. Pissing off the only people who were in your corner might not be the way out of this.” Hawk teased, enjoying the show. Lucy watched her with understanding in her eyes as she realized that Hawk had more power with this family than she initially realized. Especially if she had Pope in her corner. 

“Enough.” Pope muttered into Hawk’s ear. Her hand met his and she gave the top of it a squeeze. 

“And you,” Baz motioned to Craig, still going on his tirade. “Smurf looks at you sideways and you snort ten grand up your nose.” 

“Where’s the rest of what I helped you steal from that storage unit?” J spoke up again, pushing Baz further into the proverbial corner. Bingo, Hawk thought with a brow raised. Her eyes darted from J to Baz, with her interest piqued.

This also got the attention of Pope, Deran, and Craig. 

Baz you stupid, stupid bastard, she thought.

“It’s safe, don’t worry about it.” Baz tried to play it off, but J wasn't going to let him get away with what he was trying to do.

“But what was in those safes, huh? There were five of them.” Pope, Craig, and Deran were not aware of the other safes and that was very clear on their faces. Oh, J was good, Hawk thought. 

“What, you think I’m holding out on you?” Baz scoffed, challenging J to continue. J could feel Hawk’s eyes on him, egging him to keep pushing. J was smart, Hawk already knew this, but he seemed to have picked up the manipulation tactics that Baz thought he had.  

“Yeah, I do.” That accusation, especially because it was said in front of everyone, was enough to push Baz over the edge. Baz knew he had lost what little support he had in the room, and if there was one thing he wouldn’t tolerate, it was being outsmarted by a kid.

“Who the hell do you think you are, you little shit,” Baz pushed J and J stood up to confront Baz face to face. 

“She didn’t trust you, but she trusted me. And was she wrong? She’s in prison because of you, Baz!” Baz scoffed, then immediately went to hit J. Hawk flew off the sofa, but was quickly wrangled by Pope wrapping his arm around her waist. Her legs were fully off the ground, kicking as he pulled her down onto his lap with a grunt, his other arm caged around hers to keep them down at her sides so she didn’t start swinging. 

If Pope let Hawk loose, he knew she’d kill Baz with her bare hands.

“Keep your hands off of him!” Hawk spat at Baz while Deran and Craig got in the middle of J and Baz. “Let go of me!” She shouted back at Pope, but his muscular arms didn’t sway from their purpose. 

“Calm down. Now.” He growled in Hawk’s ear. Once Baz was pulled away from J, she settled down in his hold. “Enough!” His voice broke the fight up as everyone caught their breaths. Hawk pushed her way off of Pope and went to check on J as he sat back where he was originally, shouldering Baz on her way over. 

“Enough!” Pope repeated as he stood up, eyeing Baz, then landing on Hawk. He walked straight past her and out of the den shaking his head. Hawk touched the top of J’s head before following after Pope. 

He stalked through the house and out the front door with Hawk trailing behind him. 

“I didn’t ask you to come so you could stir the pot.” Pope fished the keys to his truck out of his pocket, pressing the unlock button as he turned to face Hawk.

“Then why did you ask me to come?” She asked, arms wide.

“Because I knew she’d be here.” Pope’s face held frustration, redness creeping up his neck and over the points of his ears. “Whatever he’s doing, she’s behind it.” 

“Well yeah, anyone with two functioning eyeballs can see that much.” Pope just stared at Hawk, his jaw clenching in irritation before he just shook his head and climbed into the truck. Hawk took a deep breath before walking to the passenger side and hoisting herself up.

Hawk awoke the next morning to Pope standing in front of the bedroom slider, naked as the day he was born as he watched the ocean in the early morning hours. He turned to glance over his shoulder when he heard the rustling of the comforter, but turned back when he saw Hawk had no intention of getting out of bed just yet. 

“Come back to bed,” She beckoned him, scooting over and lifting the covers so he could slide in front of her. It was an invitation he didn’t think he’d get from her, not after the way he’d acted recently. Still, she was trying. Pope sighed, and his feet were moving before he realized it. He climbed into the bed, rolling over so his back was to Hawk. She wrapped her arm over his torso and his hand grabbed hers. He loved to be held, and she loved to hold him. This was comfort. Their legs tangled together and Hawk laid tender kisses on his neck and shoulder, connecting each freckle together as she went. 

“We’re both struggling right now, but we’ll work through it. We always do.” Poe’s eyes clenched shut as Hawk spoke. He bit his lip to stop any sound from coming out as she continued to kiss his bare skin. God, Hawk didn’t know how wrong she was. 

The buzzing of Pope’s phone from his bedside table woke the couple up later that morning. They had rotators over to Pope’s side at some point in the morning and Pope was now spooning Hawk. She groaned as he reached over her to pick up the phone, pushing her face into his pillow so she could get a few more minutes of sleep. She could hear the automated call of an inmate that she was all too familiar with and assumed it was Smurf calling. 

Hawk felt Pope tense behind her, his words mumbled as he spoke. He ended the call without a goodbye and got out of bed in a hurry. 

“What happened?” He went into the closet and threw clothes on. Hawk hopped out of bed, throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of discarded shorts -forgoing a bra or underwear so she didn’t lose track of him as he moved from room to room. “Andy!” All Pope could do was try to get himself out of this house and away from Hawk. 

Baz knows, Pope. His entire world was about to crash around him after he heard those three words from Smurf, and he wanted to be as far away from Hawk and this house as he could be so he didn’t leave the mental scars behind that he knew would result in what was about to happen.

“What the hell is going on with you lately?” Pope ignored Hawk’s question, sidestepping her to go back into their bedroom. She followed closely behind him as he went into the closet again, rifling through a duffle bag that he kept on the top shelf in the back of the closet, before he pulled out a pistol. “What the fuck is that and why is it in my house, Andrew?!” Hawk pulled Pope’s shoulder, twisting him around to look at her. His eyes were freaked out, scared, but he kept his mouth clamped shut.  

“Don’t do that.” Hawk shook her head. “You promised me you’d talk to me when something happened! What did Smurf say to you?” Pope swallowed, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he got any words out.

“This isn’t something I can talk to you about.” Pope ground out, pushing past Hawk to exit the bedroom. “I need you to trust me on this.”

“All I do is trust you, Andy!” She followed once more, jogging to catch up with him. “If something’s wrong, I need to know!” 

“You don’t get it! You will never speak to me again, Hawk. You’ll never look at me again. You’ll never touch me again.” He pushed his feet into his boots, tying the laces quickly, before he grabbed the keys to his truck. He tried to shut the front door between them, but Hawk’s reach was quicker. She ran out of the house barefoot to stop him from leaving. 

“Andrew!” He shook his head when Hawk threw herself between him and the door to the truck. “Stop!” She screamed as she put her hands up to his chest, pushing him away from the pickup. His sunglasses were forgotten inside and Hawk saw the absolute anguish and agony that stormed within his eyes as he looked down at her, mouth trembling as he barely held himself together. Her hands cupped his face sternly, not letting him escape without having to physically pry her off. 

“I’ve done something.” His chest was heaving and Hawk could see his foundation crumbling before her. “I’ve done something so unforgivable that I don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you. And now I’m facing the consequences of it -as I should.”

“You’re scaring me.”   

“You were always better off without me. Always. I wanted you so bad, Hawk, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, but I didn’t want to ruin you. You have to understand that.” His voice was thick with unshed tears and raw emotion that he had been holding back for god knows how long. 

“That’s not true. You’re not ruining me-” Hawk reassured him, her voice shaking as she pulled his forehead down to hers. She felt him tremble, losing control of himself in her grasp. 

“It is true!” He shouted through clenched teeth. Hawk flinched, but didn’t retreat from him. “Everything I touch turns to poison, Hawk. Everything. You’re not an exception because I was born bad and will always be bad.” 

“Stop!” Her eyes looked into his as he tried to pull himself away, but her grasp on him was unrelenting. Her nails left little crescent shapes in his cheek and he only pushed himself further into them because he needed the physical pain to keep him present. “Look at me! You need to tell me what the fuck is happening, Andy. What did you do?” He shook his head, eyes clenched shut. 

“I have no right to ask you for anything, Hawk, but if something happens to me-”

“-Andy-”

“-if something happens to me,” He spoke louder, “-will you look after Lena?” His breathing was labored and Hawk feared he was going to pass out if he kept this up.

“Pope-”

“Please!” He shouted again, eyes shifting manically. “Please, I need to hear you say it, Hawk. Will you look after her if something happens to me? We’re all she has…” 

“Of-of course I will. You know I will. What is going to happen to you?!” The sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway broke Pope and Hawk apart. Pope physically shoved her towards the front door, her feet stumbling over each other from the force of it. Hawk looked at Pope like he struck her. Pope never put his hands on her like that and Hawk was almost about to fight back when he turned to her. 

“Go inside now!” Pope demanded. “No matter what you hear out here, you don’t open the door, do you understand me?” He was scared, for her or himself she couldn’t tell, but his eyes begged her to not argue and to just listen. “I love you.” His voice cracked. “I’ve always loved you, Hawk. Always.”

“Andy-”

“Get inside. Now.” His voice boomed just as Baz hastily parked his Jeep and jumped out, leaving the door wide open with his sights on Pope, gun pulled out and pointed at him. “Now, Hawk!” Hawk felt like she was going to throw up. Her fight or flight instincts kicked in, but she didn’t know what they were telling her to do. Pope turned his back to Hawk, facing Baz head on. 

“Go inside, Hawk!” Baz yelled at her, his dark eyes were clouded with anger and destruction. His gun was at the ready with the intent to kill and Hawk stupidly took slow steps back down the walkway towards Baz and Pope. 

“Baz, put it down.” Her voice shook as she held a hand out. 

“Did you know?” Baz yelled at her, his eyes narrowed, but never taken off of Pope. 

“She doesn’t know.” Pope whispered, shaking his head. “Go inside, Hawk, please.” He begged, looking over his shoulder desperately. Hawk saw the shine of tears that lined his cheek, the red of his bloodshot eye that was visible to her, the way his jaw trembled. “We’ll do this, but not in front of her, Baz. Please.”

“Put the gun down, Baz!” Hawk begged, trying to diffuse the situation. 

“He killed Cathy, Hawk.” It felt like the air was knocked out of Hawk. Her jaw fell as she looked between Baz and Pope. Her brain and her heart denied what Baz was saying, but with every second that passed that Pope didn’t deny the accusation, her eyes settled on Pope’s back in horror. 

“She didn’t suffer.” Hawk collapsed onto the raised stone barrier that lined her walkway when Pope spoke. She knew Cath was dead, in her heart of hearts she knew she was, but Hawk didn’t think it was because of Pope. She wouldn’t put it past Smurf, but Pope? Her Pope? “We thought she was…talking to the cops.” He explained weakly.

No, no, no, no, Hawk’s ears rang. No, no, no, no-

This man who she knew her whole life, who she let into her home, into her heart and her life -who she would’ve defended to the death in a heartbeat- had betrayed her. 

He betrayed Catherine. 

He betrayed Baz. 

He betrayed Lena. 

The pieces of this fucked up puzzle were starting to fall into place as memory after memory punched its way to the forefront of Hawk’s mind. From Pope’s disappearances early on, to pushing her away, to his sudden attachment to Lena. His detachment the last couple of weeks came to mind, and Hawk’s heart shattered as she put the timeline together. 

“Pope-” A devastating sound broke free from Hawk, her brain shorting out as it tried to process what was happening. Pope’s chin was tucked into his chest, his eyes clenched shut. 

“Cathy didn’t deserve any of this. I cared about her. You knew that and you still took her from me.” Hawk’s heart clenched as she listened even though her mind was telling her, screaming at her to go inside. She had no idea that Pope and Cath were involved in any capacity, but there were long spans of time where she wasn’t present in any of their lives. This happened to be one of them. “You took Cath to punish Smurf because Smurf didn’t want you to have Lucy, but you punished me too! You would’ve taken Hawk if she gave you the time of day because that’s what you do. You never thought about me!” Pope shouted, voice raw. “Not one of you ever thought about me!” Pope turned, pointing to Hawk, “Except for her.” Hawk’s head shook in disbelief, tears cascading down her cheeks. 

“Smurf said she was talking to the cops,” Pope sobbed, turning back to Baz. Any fight he had left in him vacated his body in that moment. His confession had taken the weight of the universe off of his shoulders and for the first time in a very long time, he was ready to pay for what he did. “-but she wasn’t. Smurf said she was, but Cath didn’t say anything to them!” 

Hawk’s encounter with the cops who came by her shop rammed into the front of her mind like a head on collision. Had Smurf caught wind of that, would she be in the same boat as Cath? Hawk brought a trembling hand over her mouth.

For the first time since Hawk met Pope, she felt fear when she looked at him -at what he was capable of. If Smurf told him back then to get rid of her because she was a danger to them, would he? Hawk didn’t think he’d do it now  -not after everything they’ve been through, but back then…her stomach clenched and bile climbed up her throat. 

“So do it.” Pope begged Baz. “I want you to do it. Please.” He had given up entirely, the immense amount of guilt he harbored had eaten away at the structure that held him together as a person and he was just done. “Please. I’ve lost everything already.” He whispered.  Hawk couldn’t take it anymore. She lifted herself up and stumbled her way to the front door in a daze, chest heaving as she tried to breathe through the agony that wrenched itself around her chest and squeezed. She didn’t make a sound as she shut the door behind her, twisting the deadbolt behind her and sliding down the door on the inside, sobbing for Cath with everything she had.

I'm starting a Baz is a Bastard club if anyone wants to join.

[yurunivo]

Hello! I'm not sure if i'm the one but can we get some more Mavuika x Creator! Reader (gender neutral) in which the creator is falling deeply in love with Mavuika and the creator is slowly getting his/hers/their memories back and awakening a little bit of power (like maybe aweking some unique element or getting better healing abilities) ?

I'm pretty sure you were the one yea. Sorry for not answering sooner I just had no motivation to write 😭

Synopsis: your time with Mavuika! (And "your" past) part 1 part 2 part 4

TW: slight angst, fluff, OOC, arguements, reader is referred to as they/them for easier use but gender is up to what you interpret as, bad writing, bad grammar, english is not my first language, slightly rushed at the end, not proofread

Characters: Mavuika x gn!creator!reader

"Please don't walk through the halls, our Archon is busy-"

"I just have a word with her, that's all."

The receptionist sighed as you glared at her and walked off. You've had a bad week, constantly getting excruciatingly painful headaches and nightmares which make you wake up in a cold sweat. What made it worse that you couldn't really remember them when you woke up, which made it all the more frustrating. That, along with the fact that your boss was giving you more work than usual was making you snappy and irritated all the time. The even more strange thing was the fact that you were seeking out Mavuika, almost as if she was a pinicle of warmth in a snowy wasteland, so you did eventually visit her.

As you reached her office door, gloved hands gently pushed it open to see her inside. Your eyes softened, and you could feel your stress slipping away. She was sleeping though, her head on a pile of documents.

"That's.. Strange. Normally she would spend a lot of time with me, did she ignore all this work just for me?" You thought to yourself. However, instead of peaking over, you decided to sit in a sofa next to her table.

Curiosity did get the better of you though.

You skipped over to her desk and found loads of papers from different nations, which was really strange considering Mavuika was more busy dealing with Natlan's problems. You picked up a few documents and read them, cringing at the insignia of the other nations.

As you kept reading, you got more confused, and certainly more angry.

"Death threats, intimidation and war threats to Natlan, and Sumeru is asking for an alliance? What the hell is going on?!" You exclaimed, not noticing how Mavuika woke up. As you were about to read more, she snatched the papers from you, and looked at you with an expression you couldn't read.

"You weren't supposed to see that."

"Well I did, too bad. Now mind explaining what the hell is this?"

She didn't answer, and you felt your patience running thin. You didn't want to raise your voice at her, but the frustration of her not telling you was too much to handle. Still, you managed to control yourself, taking deep breaths.

"I'm not going to repeat myself, what is this?"

She paused, and for a moment, she contemplated whether she would tell you or not. Guilt was on her face, yet she finally told you.

"The other nations want you back for whatever reason, and they are threatening to add more to Natlan's plate by instituting a war. Sumeru is offering to help, but that's the only consolation I have," she breathed out. Your eyes softened, and your lips trembled. Seeing Mavuika like this was making you feel negative, especially since it was about you.

You picked up her hand and held it gently, but it was also firm. You didn't know what you could really do to help, considering that you were the one that they were after.

"Listen Mavuika, I am your creator, so I should have the right to know about all this, no? I may not be strong, but it's not like I'm completely useless," you held her hand against your forehead, both of you looking away from each other.

Feeling the need to lighten her pile of work, you let her go for a moment, going up to her desk and setting up the documents. You didn't look at her, nor did she look at you.

"I'll help," you spoke up.

"You don't need to."

"I insist."

She sighed, yet reluctantly went up to you to do the same. She knew that you wouldn't really change your mind, so there was really no point in arguing any further.

For the past couple of weeks, you were there to help Mavuika. You were always at her beck and call, skipping your work to help with hers. The only thing you did however was confiscate useless documents, sign the ones that she couldn't, and carry piles of work to warehouses.

As you were walking through the place, whistling to yourself, you realized that you had just passed the place that you were supposed to be in. Noticing your mistake, you ran to that place in exasperation, not noticing how a gust of wind helped you to run faster..

"Why do I keep forgetting this shit?.." You rubbed your temples, setting the box down. Looking at all the shelves, you deadpanned at the realization that the shelves were much higher than you anticipated.

"I should've brought a ladder.." You mumbled.

Then suddenly, without any explanation, a pillar of Geo helped you up, slowly rising to the shelves. The revelation almost made you scream, but you kept it in. You were really high up, and the fact that you didn't know what was happening made it even more terrifying. Was this Zhongli's doing? To taunt you before he came to hunt you again? You couldn't really tell, the only thought running in your head was how the hell would you get down.

The even stranger thing that happened was that a gust of wind separated the boxes and placed the one that you brought without you needing to use your hands. It might've been the Anemo Archon, but the fact that if it was, he would probably not help you with anything. He would most likely make you fall instead, taunting you like Zhongli. But it didn't really make any sense. How the hell would they even reach you all the way from Natlan?

As the pillar mounted you down, you were about to run to reach Mavuika, but your temperature rose uncomfortably high, which was very unusual. The sudden change made you collapse onto the ground, golden blood seeping out of your nose. You felt yourself getting light headed as you struggled to keep yourself awake.

"Not now god dammit!" You exclaimed in your head as your vision turned blank, losing your consciousness.

....

Where were you?

You held your head, groaning at the painful sensation. You got a clearer look at your surroundings, notifying you that you weren't in Natlan. No, this place was nothing like Natlan. It was more regal, the entire place being covered by intricate gold designs. You explored the place for a bit, still trying to figure out what happened.

You walked around, then suddenly, you saw a projection in front of you. Okay, it at least confirmed that you were in a dream. But when the projection finished appearing, you saw someone whom you didn't expect to see.

It was... Nahida?

"Greetings your grace," she bowed, and you just told her to stand back up.

"Kusanali? What are you doing here?" You raised an eyebrow. Seriously today was one of the most craziest days of your life, more than when you realized that you were in the Genshin world.

"I have been trying to speak with you, your grace. It was very hard, I admit, and I may or may not have caused those nightmares, I am really sorry about that." Oh, so that's why these horrible dreams happened, and why you couldn't remember them. You smiled awkwardly, knowing that you would forgive her anyway. After all, she was the first to actually help you in this world.

"What did you need to speak with me for?" You asked.

"It's about the other nations, I want to inform you that they are currently on the hunt for you, and want you back into the position of creator," she answered, and now there were even more questions in your head. What was the strange switch up for?

"But I must ask your grace, is this what you really dream of, your throne room?" She pointed at the giant throne at the back, and you quickly went to answer.

"No, I don't dream about anything like this," you replied back in confusion. Right, was this supposed to be normal?

When you turned around to ask Nahida a question again, she was gone. Was she hiding? No, she was completely gone, you couldn't feel her presence any where, almost as if she was forced out of your dream.

You looked around more and more, only to realize that there was a carbon copy of you on the throne.

They looked exactly like you, except more regal, and more intimidating than what you could ever be. However, you did notice that they were... Crying? Tears were definitely spilling out of her eyes, yet their expression stayed the same.

Yea this was weird.

You looked around again to see the Archons behind you. You flinched at the sight, however, they weren't looking at you, rather they were looking at what you could assume to be the previous creator. Their expression was one of pity, and in almost half a second, they attacked the creator. Yet that "you" didn't move a muscle, allowing them to get a hit. As you stared at the throne, there was golden blood seeping out, yet the creator was as hard as stone.

They had sealed the creator.

....

You woke up with a gasp, feeling sweaty and uncomfortable. Looking at your hands, you saw they were trembling. Your throat felt dry, way too dry for your liking. As you reached out for the nearest liquid next to you, your hands landed on a cup of tea, which you picked up and drank immediately. You calmed down a bit, reminiscing on what you just experienced.

"So that's what happened, I wonder why.." You mumbled. You finally payed attention to where you were, and saw that you were back in Mavuika's office. Huh, you didn't remember being here last.

Finally paying attention to what was next to you, you saw a tray on a stool, and some food on it. The tea you drank just now was probably from that tray.

Your eyes wandered, and it stumbled upon Mavuika. She was on a chair too, yet she was sleeping, her arms crossed. As multiple ideas went through your head, it finally clicked.

"Was she taking care of me?" You thought, yet you were too much in a trance to wake her up and ask her. Your cheeks were flushed, and you felt them getting warmer.

You wondered what this feeling was, the way your heart started beating faster and how you felt all giddy inside.

"Ah whatever, I'll figure it out soon," you muttered, oblivious to your own feelings.

Sorry I didn't include the abilities part too much, I was more focused on the creator and Mavuika's relationship 😓

[stevieschrodinger]

I do not have time to write this, but I really need to write it down.

All the events of Stranger things happen as normal - one crucial difference, Eddie gets involved, but not in the same way. He's an innocent by stander who never made friends with the kids. He's a vague background character to the action. He's an extra on set, effectively, and when he drops out of school and leaves town abruptly, someone might notice, but no one really questions it.

Years later, the only thing that feels real about the whole thing are the scars Steve still carries on his body. Sometimes, sometimes, he has to call Robin, just to check it was all real. That he hasn't lost his mind. He still flinches when a light flickers, to this day his ears ring for hours after a loud noise. He has headaches.

The only people he can talk to about it are Robin and the kids; but he feels bad. The kids aren't kids anymore, and they all seem to have just...gotten on with their lives. Seemed to have grown and evolved past it all, even though Steve regularly still wakes in the night, sweating and fighting with his bed covers. He doesn't put that on them, he sounds happy on the phone, and he is, loves hearing about their lives, their relationships, their plans and their own kids.

Robin has a girlfriend, she's happy and settled. Steve's the only one who seems...stuck. Like he cant move past it. He bums around. Stays with Nancy for a while, then Robin. Visits Argyle, makes loose acquaintances and sofa surfs. Drifts, aimlessly, through life.

It's about time in his cycle to visit Robin, but the relationship is serious this time and she nags him to find his own place to stay near by - loosing patience with him when he fails to be motivated and finding it for him herself. It's tiny, the kind of place where the bed is also the couch and the TV rests on a short run of kitchen counter because there's no where else. Feels okay though.

Steve gets a job. Spends a day on foot, door to door, walking through town; lands in a record shop of all places, even though CD's have now well and truly taken hold and vinyl isn't much of a thing. It's dark inside, the walls painted black, the bare brick red. A couple of people browse through, but Steve heads right for the counter.

There's some screamo rock stuff playing that Steve doesn't recognize, but it's quiet, so it's okay.

Behind the counter, someone Steve half recognizes from another life. Eddie Munson, Freak of Hawkins High. What are the odds.

Eddie isn't who Steve remembers. He's angry now. Bitter. Has a horrible scar that creeps up his neck and onto his face, pulling the corner of his lip down. Steve does his best to ignore it. Begs for work.

Eddie employs him, but only because he thinks it's fucking funny how far the king has fallen. Now the king works for the jester.

Steve does his best at the shop. Cleans a lot. Gets on well with the customers, charms plenty of sales.

Eddie walks with a cane and seems to hate everyone and everything; but nothing so much as a cold morning. Seems to be in more pain than usual.

Steve wants to ask, Eddie tells him it was an animal attack. In 86.

Steve's seen some of the scars by now, caught glimpses of how bad Eddie was hurt; helped Eddie even when Eddie was spitting angry about accepting any help.

What the fuck kind of animal could do that much damage in Hawkins?

You wouldn't believe me if I told you.

And Steve puts it together then, instantly and viscerally realizes in his bones what must have happened. No one ever believed Eddie. Why would they? How could anyone think that monsters coming out of the walls, out of the floors, out of glowing red portals could be the truth?

And Steve says, did it's face peel apart like a flower?

And then he tells Eddie. He tells Eddie everything. He shows Eddie his own scars. Tells him about every monster they ever come across. It was one of the demo dogs. Like Dart. Steve knew it must have been, but Eddie confirms with a description.

And then Eddie cries, because he finally has a explanation. He's not crazy. For the first time in his life, someone believes him.

[artsyebonyrose]

constantly having headaches, call me hajime hinata

lil vent! bc sometimes when i take meds for my frequent headaches i'm like "wow so hajime coded of me"

below this are alternate versions and an infodump about some of my post-game hajime headcanons (that i copy and pasted from my instagram post lol)

Anyway I hc hajime with a lot of pain post-game (and the rest of 77-b, but especially hajime). Despite being stronger than he was before the experiment, the after effects of the kamukura project take a great toll on him physically after he wakes up from the nwp. Pain where his surgeries were, deep down to his bones, heavy body and heavy head that gets frequent migraines. You wanted to be ultimate everything? There's a price to pay for all those talents boy ! (aka I don't like op unstoppable post-game hajime so I nerf him and make him more realistic, not superhuman)

Oh and the stress of their situation, the weight and heaviness of everything they did in the past and the state of the world presently, along with trying to rehabilitate his struggling ex-terrorist friends and support them through their healing journeys, trying to be a good selfless leader and help out around the island, trying to be useful to future foundation and to his friends, while also trying to cope (most likely alone because he doesn't want to burden the others when he's meant to have it all together and they're struggling with their own plights) with his newfound body and mind and the overflowing memories that plague him at all hours of the day, but ESPECIALLY at night when he stays awake unable to shut his mind up or drown out the memories of everything he's seen and done, or spectres of junko that haunt him and the others, refusing to let go, a reminder of who they were, what they did, how they can never escape that, and how if they could do it before then they could fall back into despair and do it again,,,,, yeah all that will definitely contribute to the frequent headaches and migraines too methinks 😁

[svetamillss]

You came home drunk🥂

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f)

Summary: You had a fun celebration of your friend's birthday.

A/N: The stories with my beloved girlfriend are back!

🩵🩵🩵

It was your best friend's birthday, of course you were going to go to it, but the truth is that your girlfriend was at work that day and couldn't join, so you went alone.

You had rules. First of all: to be always in touch. Secondly: don't drink a lot of alcohol, because it be a bad effect on you. Thirdly: be at home at eleven o'clock in the evening at most.

But you safely forgot all these three points...

No, no, you were in touch with Hyun Ju at first, but then the fun stunned your head.

And it's two o'clock in the morning. You were able to get home thanks to the taxi. True, not in a normal form. You could barely stand on your feet.

You quietly entered the house so that your beloved girl wouldn't wake up, you did everything very diligently, despite the darkness in the room and the headache. But then the light suddenly turns on and your eyes almost burst with pain, when you focused your eyesight, you were able to see your girlfriend in cute pajamas (which you gave her for her birthday), but with a very strict face. You got scared.

- Hyunnie! - you shout at the whole room, holding on to the ottoman near the door so as not to fall, but your girlfriend didn't even smile at you.

- So where were we?

- At a friend's birthday.. you know.. - you said stuttering, big thoughts and suggestions were given with difficulty, you wanted to lie down now and fall asleep in the arms of Hyun Ju, and not listen to lessons of behavior.

- I'm in the know. But it's two o'clock in the morning.

- Two o'clock in the morning? And you're awake?? You're tired at work..you need to get enough sleep..- even changing the subject didn't help you in any way, the severity of your girlfriend trampled everything.

- Don't interrupt me. We agreed that you would come back no later than eleven o'clock! We also agreed that you would always be in touch, but I've already lost you for four hours. - you looked back in a hurry, took out your phone to check and realized that it was turned off.

- Oh..he discharged..- a heavy sigh was heard from your girlfriend.

- I could have picked you up, but I thought that if you wanted to write to me, you would find an opportunity, but you had too much fun there. And the last one. You promised not to drink much, but you didn't do it either, you can barely stand on your feet, thank God you don't vomit yet. - Hyun Ju went to bedroom with disappointment, leaving you alone.

You immediately realized how many mistakes you had made and decided to act quickly before it was too late. Taking off your shoes, you crawled to the bedroom, where a girl was sitting on the edge of the bed, silently looking at the floor. You immediately crawled closer to her (it's just very hard for you to walk).

- Hyunnie... - you almost started crying, taking her hands in yours. - I'm sorry... I'm very guilty. It's just..just..we went for a walk so much that I'm completely lost..you know that I'm becoming so irresponsible without you. I really didn't want to..I'm sorry please..I love you very much..- after you looked into her eyes and noticed that her resentment was gradually disappearing, the girl touched her forehead with yours.

- I'm not mad at you. I'm very worried about you, you know. Don't worry, everything is fine. Just more, so that it doesn't happen, okay?

- Yes! Good! - in joy you want to kiss her, but she gently pushed you away, you looked at her with incomprehension.

- This is a small punishment for you. You'll be a little bit without kisses. Besides, you carry a lot of alcohol, and I can't stand it. So, let me help you undress, we'll go to bed, and tomorrow you'll rest after all this, okay? - you nodded understandingly, the girl said the truthful things.

Hyun Ju helped you change into your pajamas, she also brought you a headache pill and put you to bed. Like a real loving girl, she still kissed you, but on the forehead. After that, you fell asleep peacefully.

After all, living with a very disciplined person is still a task, but nothing prevents you. But you won't go to parties without her anymore, and it's not only because she won't let you go.

🩵🩵🩵

[fourstarsoutofnine]

Cottontails

Part 2.

Legend x reader

Sorry of the ending seems rushed, I have a headache but I really wanted to get this out, I was excited.

Also something to note: rabbits show dominance by being groomed, so by licking the top of your head he was basically crowning you royalty/leader. If that info is incorrect, blame a tiktok comment I read today while watching a rabbit throw a tantrum bc he hated a cat’s tail

You were running for your life. You didn’t know where you were going, and you didn’t particularly know why, but you were terrified. You looked around for anywhere to hide.

Why did you run? You knew the vet. You loved the vet. He was your best friend—even with every jab. You knew he was never serious when he teased you. But here you were: small, grey as storm clouds, darting every which way after falling into some of his items. You felt like he’d kill you after finding out. Again, you didn’t know why. You’ve never felt like this before, you always trusted him…

“Y/n!” You heard a voice behind you. That was him. The vet. He didn’t sound angry but you couldn’t suppress the need to hide. You dove into a hole in the ground, little tiny claws digging to make it deeper.

｡･:*˚. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧˖*°࿐ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚➶

The veteran looked around, finding a hole. He hopped over and looked into it, tiny nose wiggling as he sniffed around for that familiar scent of you. He caught it his eyes softened. He shuffled down into the hole to find you at the very end of the small tunnel, pressing your body against the dirt.

“Hey, hey it’s me. It’s just me… you’re alright.” He sat with some distance between the two of you, giving you space.

Your eyes raked over him, taking in this form. You’d never seen him like this… then again, it sort of made sense. The two of you have had long, late night conversations about your inabilities to commit. To love, after experiences you’d had. You were both bolters. The both of you being rabbits made perfect sense.

“…you’re a rabbit…” you muttered. He huffed a laugh.

“So are you.”

“You’re pink…”

“You’re grey. You look like a storm cloud.” He hopped over.

“…you’re not mad about me knocking your stuff over? And about getting all into your magic powder..?”

“Why would I be, cottontail? It’s not your fault.” He brushed his head under yours, ears flattened down. Your heart sped up.

“You had me really worried…” he said. “I didn’t know if something was gonna get you, or I just wouldn’t find you again…”

“You were really that worried about me?”

“Of course…”

You two heard voices outside the tunnel. The rancher and sky were looking for you.

“We should go. You need to get back to normal and so do I.”

“…we can’t stay like this a little longer..? I kind of like it.” You laughed. As did he. He licked the top of your head.

“It’s best if we don’t. I don’t know what effect it would have on you. Follow me.” He led you out of the tunnel and the two of you found sky and the rancher. Sky placed the master sword on the ground. “There you go..”

“I’ll go first… I need to wake you though, cottontail. It’s not gonna be fun. It’ll hurt, a lot… but you’ll make it through.” He nestled his face under your chin. “You’ll be okay. I’ll help you get through it…”

“…vet I’m scared…”

“I know. But it’ll be okay… I promise…” he left your side and hopped over to the sword. He put his little paws on it and transformed back into himself. He looked over to you with a sympathetic expression.

“It’s okay..” he held the sword out to you. “I’ll be right here…”

You stepped up cautiously and held your paw out, placing it on the sword. Your body contorted, doubling over in pain as your bones shifted and you returned to your original form. Your rabbity squeaks turned into humanly groans and whimpers as you changed back, pain nearly unbearable. The vet picked you up gently once you were back. “It’s okay, cottontail. I know it hurts… we’ll get you a red potion once we’re back to camp…”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, and entire body aching like you had the flu, but the pain was tenfold. You’d prefer the flu at this point. He took you back to camp and held you as you recovered, ignoring the glances and grins from the rest of the chain.

You and the vet shared something special now. You had before—a kindred spirit, even if your personalities differed a bit. Even if you were sunshine, and he was midnight rain. And now he knew why you always felt connected to each other. You were made for each other, it seemed. Behind that hard, tough, spiked and guarded exterior, the veteran had the soul of a rabbit. A bolter. Cowardly by no means, but it did mean he was soft. Kind, gentle(for the most part), and stubborn as ever, just like a rabbit—and he knew it. Just like his hair, now a vibrant pink again, there were some parts of that he couldn’t hide. The moment he saw you, he knew this had to be a bond for life.

When you finally came back around and were no longer in immense pain, you stuck close to him. It seemed some of those instincts had yet to leave your body. The idea of being separated from the vet made your heart spike—and he noticed, so he stuck close to you as well. Again, a bonded pair. The events of the night had been going through both of your minds since getting back to camp. There were some moments the vet would rather not discuss, certainly not now. His feelings could be a conversation for another time.

But, you had other plans.

“Vet..” you whispered. Everyone besides the two of you and the old man were asleep, and he was over on the other side of your camp, patrolling. You and the vet lay side by side in your bedrolls, legs touching.

“Hm?”

“Earlier tonight, when we were bunnies… you like.. licked the top of my head, and kind of like… nestled under me. Was that like a kiss?”

Theeere it is… he was thankful for the dim lighting, otherwise you’d be able to see his face was the same color as his hair. “I uh-…don’t know how to answer that.” He huffed a nervous laugh. “I’ll cut to the chase… I really like you, if that’s what you wanna know… a lot…. I don’t know how any of this works, i haven’t trusted anyone like this in so long…” he sighed heavily. “But I know you’re here, and you’re real…. And I’m okay with trusting you. You trusted me with your life back there. So I’m trusting you….. please don’t make me regret it.. please…”

You just smiled softly, very dimly lit by the fire, but just bright enough for him to see you. You leaned in and placed a kiss to his cheek. “You won’t regret it. I like you too.”

Relief washed over his features and he pulled you further in and kissed your forehead. He was glad his feelings hadn’t led him astray. You two were a bonded pair.

A pair of cottontails.

[reiding-writing]

Hi i am absolutely in love with your writing. If you want to, could you write Reid having one of his migraines and reader just comforts him, yk massaging his scalp and forehead and whatnot while he lay in her lap. Idk man i just wanna see my boy get some relief from his headaches because in the show he just suffers through them ☹️

migraine massages [ s.r ]

Summary:

Migraines are the worst. They hurt and they stop you from doing absolutely everything. Spencer was silently pleading for relief from his own body, and you plan to fulfil those needs.

WARNINGS: details of migraines, vomit mentions, mentions of spencer’s addiction, mentions of relapse

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort

wc: 2.7k

masterlist!!

a/n: can’t have hurt/comfort without the hurt. from a personal perspective, migraines suck bro. they suck so bad.

i’m also mildly disappointed that they didn’t expand the migraine thing after they dropped the original tumour reason, like they could’ve done so much with it-

thanks for the request! <33

Spencer felt like his skull was being hammered from the inside out. Like his brain was silently vying to escape it’s confines and break out of the bone. He felt like every nerve of his body was working against him to make sure he had the most miserable day humanly possible.

He felt like if he moved an inch from his position that the coffee and croissant that he had for breakfast this morning in an attempt to make himself feel better was going to force it’s way up out of his stomach and paint his desk in a sea of vomit.

The tinnitus ringing in his ears didn’t help, nor did the agitatingly bright while florescent lights of the office that he’d never seemed to take much notice of before.

His shoulders ached as he rested his head in his hands, his thumbs negligibly working against his temples to attempt to relieve some of the aching pressure that sent waves through his head and made him want to curl up into ball under his bed covers and never wake up.

“Spence? Are you okay?” Your voice is deliberately quiet as you approach his desk on your return from the kitchenette, steaming mug of coffee cupped in your hands and concern written all over your face.

You can almost hear the sigh of relief as he realises it’s just you and not Hotch asking him for the fourth time today for the file he’d been trying to finish for the last almost three hours.

He doesn’t look up at you yet, merely replying a weak “hi…yeah…just a headache”

You can see him try to suppress a grimace as his own voice overloads his eardrums and sends another wave of pain through his head.

You knew what a headache looked like. And what he was experiencing looked nothing like ‘just a headache’.

“A headache? You look like you’re in a lot of pain, have you-” You begin to question his pain relief, but catch yourself before asking about painkillers. As much as they definitely shouldn’t be, opioids are the most common form of pain relief prescribed for migranes, and you knew that if he had gone to the doctors for the pain, he would’ve turned them down.

At least you hope so anyway.

“Have you… had it for long?”

There’s a pause, before an almost imperceptible nod comes from him. “Three hours… three hours and eighteen minutes…. I thought it was gonna pass but… it’s getting worse….” he swallows before forcing out the next part “…I feel sick….”

You give him a small nod and a pursed expression, becoming increasingly concerned as he continues his explanation, and you can just barely catch how pale his face has gone underneath his hands.

“You should go home Spence…”

He looks up from his desk at that suggestion. As he’s trying to answer he gets cut off by a blinding pain that explodes behind his eyes. He gasps and clutches his head, dropping back into his chair before closing his eyes. “Agh….”

“Spencer…” You can’t help but wince slightly at Spencer’s clear display of pain. “Let me drive you home, you’re not fit to work right now,”

He wants to argue but his mouth is dry. The pain is just too much for him to focus on anything else, including having an opinion, so instead he simply nods.

“Give me two seconds okay? I’m going to go and tell Hotch and then we can go,”

That seems to be a satisfactory answer for now, because he just nods again. He’s not quite ready for the onslaught of light and sounds that will be the outside world just yet. He simply leans his head back and closes his eyes, trying to relax and focus on his breathing.

It takes you a little under two minutes to return, and the first thing you do is take both of your messenger bags onto your shoulder and dispose of your coffee mug on your desk.

You hold out a hand tentatively to him to help him up from his chair. “Here, let’s get you home,”

He takes your hand, slowly getting on his feet as his change in positioning sends another wave of pain shooting through the front of his head. He’s leaning on you for balance as you lead him out of the BAU office. His vision is still blurry, but at least having someone to lean on stops him from having to risk tripping over.

You have to help him into your car once your reach the parking lot, reclining the passenger’s seat as far back as it’ll go so that he’s not forced to sit upright for the whole ten minute drive.

You make an effort to keep the vehicle smooth as you pull out of the office, checking periodically over at your side to make sure that Spencer is alright. Or as alright as he can be anyway.

Once you reach Spencer’s apartment complex, you shut off the car and collect both of your belongings, getting out yourself and then walking around to assist Spencer in getting up.

It’s clear from his expression that he wouldn’t’ve managed the task on his own. He leans on you in a combination of gratitude, comfort and convenience, and he continues to use you as a crutch through the front entrance to the elevator and all the way up to his apartment door, where he struggles to insert his key in the lock through his shaking hands.

“You got it?”

He gives a weak “mhm” as he fumbles with the keys in the lock for a few seconds more, but eventually manages to unlock the door and step inside with you.

“Take a seat Spence,” You lead him carefully over to his couch and sit him down before walking across the room to pull his curtains shut and dump your bags on his reading chair.

As you pull the curtains shut and turn around again, you notice the room being a little messier than usual. Books and papers have been scattered over the room, and there were several mugs and glasses dotted around.

Clearly this wasn’t his first migrane.

Spencer is increasingly grateful the room isn’t too bright as the shade covers the room, allowing him to relax into the cushions of the sofa as you kneel to help him remove his shoes before removing your own.

He doesn’t resist your assistance. The pain still hasn’t subsided enough for him to be in the mood to resist anything. He keeps his eyes closed the whole time you unlace his shoes, just grateful for any relief he can get.

“l’m going to get you some water okay?” Spencer nods at this suggestion. At this point he’s too tired and nauseous to try and fight you, so as you leave the room, he lays his head over the back of the couch and just waits for you to come back with the water.

You return with both a glass of water and a small holding a few ice cubes, handing Spencer the glass and leaving the towel on the coffee table to chill under the presence of the ice. “Drink,”

He takes the glass from you, before slowly leaning forward and sipping the water. Your presence seems to bring him a lot of comfort, much more than he probably realises.

He continues drinking until the glass is empty, seemingly more dehydrated than he realised.

You take a seat next to Spencer has he finishes the glass, and you take it from him gently and place it down on his coffee table.

He takes a deep breath in, and out, leaning back into the couch once more.

He’s trying so hard to focus on something other than his pain, but it’s difficult. So instead he focuses on one of the only other things he can feel, which is the warmth you radiate as you sit next to him. “Here, lie down Spence,”

You put a hand on his shoulder to help try and ease him down slowly so he doesn’t put himself in any more pain. “But there’s no space..”

“You can put your head in my lap it’s okay,” You lean over to grab the now cold towel, leaving the ice in the empty glass before patting your thighs as an indication for him to lie down. “Let me see if I can relive some of that lingering tension,”

If he were of his right mind right now he would’ve been somewhat embarrassed in such a scenario, but right now he’s just too tired and in pain to do anything else but submit to the situation.

He lays his head into your lap slowly, his face relaxing as he looks up at you with grateful eyes.

You chuckle softly as he blinks up at you, leaning down over him slightly to brush some hair off of his forehead. “Close your eyes Spence,”

You can see a slight pinkness in his cheeks as he closes his eyes. His expression is the perfect combination of relaxed and sleepy, although you can still see the traces of the pain he’s feeling through the knit in his eyebrows and the tension in his shoulders.

Just hearing the sound of your voice fills his head with warmth and relaxation; Even if his head is still pounding he feels a lot better just being able to listen to you.

As his eyelids flutter closed, you place the damp cold towel over them, raking your fingers gently through his hair to ensure that nothing gets caught underneath the fabric ans slowly detangling it in the process.

For a moment your touch sends him into heaven, and he can actually feel the tension and pain receding from his body.

As he relaxes, his body slowly begins to respond to the touch with warm and fuzzy feelings. He wants to savour every second of this, to commit the sensation to memory, to never forget the feeling of your warm and gentle touch.

“How long have you been having migraines for Spencer?” You make an effort to keep your tone as soft as possible, moving your attention from running your hands through his hair to kneading your fingers against his temples.

“they’re a fairly recent thing… been having them on and off for a few weeks now….” As your hands work on his temples the pain once again starts to recede significantly. It’s still there, it probably will be for a long time, but it’s no longer all pervading. “…they can be a little debilitating some days….”

“Have you…” you trail off your question, unsure if your right to ask him it. “Never mind-“

He pulls the fabric of the towel from his eyes and blinks them up at you. The dark circles under his eyes are still clearly evident, but it’s not really surprising considering all that’s been happening to him. “…you were gonna ask if i’ve been using again weren’t you?”

“…i’m just worried about you…”

You continue to gently massage at his temples as he sees right through your apprehension.

He can’t help but sigh softly as you indirectly admit to him being right in his assumption of your question. Your concern is appreciated, albeit unnecessary. “…I’m not using anymore… I quit… I’m serious…”

He plasters a small smile on his face as a form of reassurance, though it’s pretty weak considering the fatigue his headache was providing him. “Just having a bad bout of migraines this week… that’s all….”

“Can I just- see your arms? Please?” Your fingers halt their movements as you ask the question, fully focused on receiving an answer. “I just want to make sure…”

His body tenses up a little bit as the request is made, but he complies nonetheless. He slowly raises his arms and hikes up his shirt sleeves, exposing the flesh of his forearms to your view.

There’s no marks on them, no dark scars and no signs of track marks.

He’s clean, and you can tell from his body language alone that he’s telling the truth.

You can feel your shoulders physically relax as your eyes examine his skin, and your expression softens as you look down at him. “thank you…”

“I told you, I’m serious about staying clean….” He lowers his arms, closing his eyes again. He’s back where he was a few minutes ago, a man almost fully at peace despite the fact that he’s still in pain.

“I know Spence..” You scratch gently at his scalp, feeling a little guilty about unofficially accusing him of a potential relapse. But you had to know. You had to know that he was alright.

“I just care about you… I want you to be okay..”

As your fingers brush the base of his scalp he shivers slightly. The feeling is incredibly relaxing, more so than even the previous massage. He smiles softly at the fact that the pain has at least become bearable for now. “Thanks for looking after me…”

“Always,” The pad of your thumb brushes lightly against his cheekbone as you move to tuck a stand of hair behind his ear, knocked loose by him pulling on the hand towel that now laid crumpled on the floor.

Spencer’s eyes flicker slightly. The movement of your fingers across his cheeks is soothing, but also makes him feel something else entirely. It’s hard to describe.

He can’t deny the sensation that rises up from his stomach at these small gestures of affection. A part of him is enjoying it more than is probably okay, given the situation and how tired he is. All it amounts to are butterflies, but that’s enough to make his cheeks flush slightly. “you should take a nap Spencer,”

“mhm…” He nods in agreement. “but can I ask you a small favour first…?”

You mirror his nod with one of your own, your fingers returning to scratching gentle lines against his scalp. “Of course you can,”

There’s a small moment of silence before he speaks again, his eyes flickering between you and the ceiling.

“can you stay with me?”

His question is more of a request, and you swear that you melt from the innocent pleading in his tone.

With you around it’s almost like he doesn’t notice the pain at all. When he closes his eyes it feels like the world is completely at peace, like there’s no need to worry about anything else at this moment in time.

“…please…?” the last word is almost a whisper.

You don’t hesitate in your answer, giving him a soft smile. “of course i will..”

You let out a small breath of air alongside your words, your eyes entranced with the relaxed expression on Spencer’s face, mixed with relief at your willingness to spend a few more hours with him.

Spencer feels a small smile form on his lips as you respond. His hands raise slightly and clutch at your thighs, gently gripping at them almost compulsively.

Now that he knows you’ll be sticking around for a while, all he wants to do is fall asleep in your company.

[alisblackgf]

hello lovely, hope all's good! May I request Hobie period comfort? Reader's started their period and is NOT felling good at all. They're just nauseous, have a horrible headache, back pain, boob pain, cramps, a slight fever (I get period fevers), and the list goes on. And he's feeling real bad for lovely? He comforts her, makes her favorite snacks, reads aloud to her so that she can nap.

If you get to this, thanks a bunch!!

(honey anon)

YES YES SURE OF COUrse! (thanks for requesting honey anon i hope to see you more in the future!!)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hobie brown x afab!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff :)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: hobie takes care of reader during their period!

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: writing about this man isn’t enough i need to inhale him (i didn’t know if you wanted headcanons or a fic so i did a little bit of both!) also i tried to write him in his accent but it is so HARD and it looks kinda dumb so excuse that

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: the sickness section may trigger emetophobia (fear of vomit), viewer discretion is advised!

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

if you two just started dating, he’d ask you the basic questions.

such as: what size pads, favorite candies, what you want him to do, etc.

but as time goes on, he’s on top of everything.

he remembers all of your preferences and favorites.

he’s fine with you being grumpy, he has a lot of patience for you and will do whatever you need him to.

“go away, hobie,” you groan.

“sorry, love, ‘m not goin’ anywhere.”

“my insides feel like they’re collapsing,” you complain, hugging your stomach and curling into fetal position.

“i know, doll. li’l ol’ hobie’s here to fetch whatever your heart desires.”

“li’l ol’ hobie?” you laugh, forgetting your grumpiness for a second, which makes him smile.

he did mean what he said, though. he will get you anything.

if you like being read to sleep, he’ll get an assortment of books that you like.

he’ll read them to you at your very request! just say the words.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧

if you’re experiencing pain, just tell him where and he’ll massage the area for you.

if your chest is too tender to massage, he’ll just cuddle you and rub circles into your back.

however, if your pain is intense, he’ll go out and grab you some pain killers.

he’ll even buy you a heating pad should you need it (you probably do).

“(y/n), ‘m back. got you some stuff, too.”

“really?”

“yeah, got you some ibuprofen and a heatin’ pad.”

he loves taking care of you and he loves that you let him.

he’ll probably even say some stupid jokes to make you laugh (and they’re probably not funny).

his reasoning is “laughter is the best medicine”.

if you don’t laugh, though, he’ll tickle you.

so laugh.

𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

if you get fevers, he’ll wet a rag with cold water, fold it, and put it on your forehead.

he gets you fever medication, mainly tylenol because he assumes you wouldn’t like the taste of the liquid medicine.

if you feel nauseous, he’s there rubbing your back and comforting you.

he tells you to let him know if you’re going to vomit so he can accompany you.

if you do end up vomiting, though, he’s right there with you.

if you have long/medium-length hair, he holds your hair back as you do your business into the toilet.

if you have short hair, he rubs your back.

whatever length hair you may have, he praises you.

“there you go, dove, let it all out,” he coos.

when you’re done, he gives you a cup of water.

𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬!

it’s nighttime, and hobie was urging you to sleep. even though your body was practically wrapped around him (which was usually all you needed to fall asleep), the pain kept you awake. you were already facing him, looking over the features you adored so much. he was resting peacefully, you really didn’t want to wake him up, but you really couldn’t sleep.

“hobie?” you asked, attempting to wake him up.

“mm, yeah, love?” he mumbled, half-awake. he was so cute you could almost laugh.

“sorry to wake you, but could you read me to sleep?”

“mhm,” he responds. “gimme a sec.”

his willingness to do what you asked without questioning it made butterflies swarm in your stomach. he groggily got up to go retrieve a book.

“want anythin’ in particular?” he asks you.

“no, surprise me.”

he nods and picks one out.

he sits down on the edge of the bed as you get snuggled back under the covers. as he begins to read, you find yourself more relaxed than ever. hobie must’ve loved you to death with the way he was caring for you, so you made sure to let him know you felt the same.

“i love you, hobie.”

he stopped reading and looked at you. your eyes were already closed and your breathing steady. he smiled at your resting figure.

“i love you too.”

UGH i love him

tags: @pr0wlerpunk

[raeofsunrise]

hiii !! if it's not too much to ask could we get a peeta x reader (m or gn) and reader gets sick so peeta takes it upon himself to take care of them?? really fluffy with reassurance that reader's not a bother, cooking, baking bread, bathing reader etc. I LUVV UR WORK !

the doctor is in

pairing: peeta mellark x gn!reader

summary: after you get sick, peeta takes it upon himself to be the person taking care of you. this can technically take place after mockingjay, but there’s no real mention of any of that so…read it however you would like

warnings: mentions of throwing up, slight bit of angst because reader feels a bit emotional

word count: 953

author’s note: neww format!! and thank you!! there is NOT enough peeta content in this world. also, it’s never too much to ask! hope you like this, i made it with lots of love ☆

waking up should be nice. comforting. especially in peeta’s arms. but that was not the case for today. why? because you woke up with a searing headache, a sore throat, and an awfully runny nose. the morning sun, which you would usually love, was doing the absolute worst for your condition.

and as much as you loved the boy with his arm around your waist, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer in this position, so you proceeded to remove his arm from your waist, and sit up.

big mistake.

because unbeknownst to you until now, this mystery illness had another symptom, which you just found out was nausea. yayyy.

you used whatever remaining strength you had left to make it to the bathroom to throw up. if the world wanted a way to make you feel worse than you already did, this was the way.

you had been doing that for what felt like hours, and then you felt your hair being pulled from your face, and an arm rubbing your back softly.

your body finally decided to give you a break from the torment, and you looked up to find none other than your beautiful, tired boyfriend; peeta.

“well, you’re up early.” he says.

you turn around to face him and give him a small, exhausted smile in response. but that was all he needed.

“you feeling okay?”

you shake your head.

“well, let’s get you cleaned up, then you can head back to the bed, alright?” he says, rubbing your arms up and down.

nodding in response, he helps you stand up and gets your toothbrush for you.

you brush your teeth as he exits the room to get something. who cares if brushing your teeth immediately after vomiting is bad for your teeth? it’s not like you were gonna stand around with the taste of your own vomit in your mouth.

you finish brushing and feel some sense of normalcy return to the morning. as you put away your toothbrush and toothpaste, peeta enters the room and ushers you to the bed. there’s an array of items on it: blankets, medicine, extra pillows, and much more.

as he gently sits you down and the bed, you try to protest and say that you can’t be sick today, that you have things to do. but before you can he cuts you off.

“shh, let me take care of you, for once. please?”

he puts a hand on your cheek, and you just can’t resist his request when you look into those precious, soft eyes of his.

“okay.” you say in a very hoarse voice. that word will probably the first and last word uttered today, since even saying it sent intense pain throughout your throat.

“oh look, they speak.” he jokingly says.

you roll your eyes before he gives you a kiss on the forehead before tucking you into the bed, and asking you how many blankets you would like and if you wanted the windows open.

the whole day was filled with forehead kisses, sweet nothings, and a lot of tissues.

and you weren’t gonna lie, the multiplied affection peeta gave you continuously throughout the day made you feel a lot better. but it also made you worried. were you burdening peeta with all your wants and needs? the idea made you feel a little more nauseous than you already were, so you decided to toss it to the side.

you thought the affection would at least dwindle down as it was nearing evening, but you were quickly corrected as you smelt the mouth-watering aroma of fresh bread waft throughout the house.

as the day went on, your voice became easier to use, so when peeta walked through the door with a delicious looking meal and a slice of fresh bread, you could finally ask him something you’d been wondering the whole day.

“are you sure i’m not a burden to you?”

he looks a bit taken aback, like the idea that you just told him was something he had never heard or thought of in his life.

he puts the tray of food down before he goes to sit on the side of the bed. he puts a hand on your cheek for the fiftieth time before speaking.

“now i know you’re really sick.”

you laugh, confusedly.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, leaning into his hand.

“it means that you’re not thinking right, because what you’re thinking is quite the opposite.” he says, with a small smile.

“are you sure? i mean, because i—“

but he puts two fingers to your mouth.

“will you let me speak?” he asks with a sweet tone that makes you melt.

“you’re important to me, and you’re obviously not feeling well. i just want to make you feel good, because that’s what you deserve. you’re always talking care of me, but sometimes i just wanna take care of you. because i love you.”

this wasn’t the first time you heard him say i love you, but all the feelings you felt when he first said it are certainly there.

he removes his fingers from your lips, and you give him a smirk that gradually turns into a big, toothy grin.

“i love you too.” you say.

he smiles before giving you an actual kiss, on the lips.

when he pulls back, you give him a soft hit on the shoulder.

“peeta! you’re gonna get sick, too!”

“then i can lay with you all day.” he says, while getting in bed and wrapping an arm around you.

“oh yeah? then who’s gonna take care of us?” you ask.

“both of us.” he replies.

“i don’t think that’s how it works, honey.”

—————

please give feedback! it’s very appreciated ☆

[theharrowing]

White Lies 3: There you are

Yoongi is everything you could ask for. He is attractive, confident, and smart. And his partner Taehyung is as possessive as he is beautiful. Too bad a relationship would be a major conflict of interest.

You need to have them, at all costs.

🤍 Yoongi x Female Reader x Taehyung

🤍 word count: 9k + screencaps of conversations

🤍 college au, cop au, partial social media au with a lot of written story, strangers to lovers & established relationship, yandere, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, angst, slash, poly, minor character injury & death, graphic violence, nsfw, 21+.

🤍 warnings: the morning after being drugged (forensics test is done, see more info in note below). kissing, phone sex (sort of), masturbation (sort of), semi-explicit thoughts. mc is a bit of a mess but she's our mess. 😤

🤍 note: wow hi sorry for the 16 months in between updates 😅 to say life has been hectic is an understatement. reminder: mc's fake name is Sandra. she won't be called this throughout the entire fic but we are still establishing relationships. also Taehyung & Yoongi have all kinds of aliases for now - that will also change soon. hang in there!!! i had to redo all the screencaps for the earlier chapters and while doing so i reworded some messages & provided a little more context, so if you feel like you want a refresher, go check those chapters out! Josie's character calls mc "bella" which is pronounced like "beya".

🤍 also note: mc has a forensics examination done to test for sexual assault. in the biz/true crime media it's called a rape kit. this is done off screen and there are not a lot of details provided but if you still feel the need to skip those bits, please do so. 💜 your safety comes first. i can happily tell you any details you might miss in those bits if you want, you can even dm me on anon and ask. this goes for any possible triggers in anything i write.

🤍 this is a sequel to Boy Blue! i highly recommend that you start at the beginning!!!

🤍 beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🤍 posted april 2025 | read on ao3

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

*

Waking up with a splitting headache is cause enough for concern, but sitting up in your bed and realizing you have no idea how you got here or what time it is, is worse. Instantly, your body goes into panic mode, tensing up and taking inventory of any aches and pains, trying to determine what it went through. 

As you sit up some pretty stark hints begin to reveal themselves. For one, you are fully clothed. Both of your phones are with you – one on your pillow and the other in your pocket – and your purse is on your bedside table along with a full glass of water. 

You remember sharing a drink with Cody and then the details become fuzzy. There is a split moment in your memory where you think you can picture yourself standing in front of a soda dispenser holding onto tiny paper cups filled with ketchup, but when did you go to a place with ketchup? And were you alone?

You reach for the phone that is on your pillow to see what it can offer in terms of hints. Two calls were received from an unknown number at 10:49 and at 11:24. The first of the two calls was not answered but the other one was, and you were on the call for just under three minutes. 

Could that have been Cody? But why was he calling you?

You sit up and fish your actual phone from your pocket. Seokjin has already sent a text this morning and you bypass it for now; it is still early enough that you can feign being asleep while you continue to sort this mess out. In fact, your 8:00 alarm still has ten minutes before it goes off, giving you plenty of time to go into detective mode before your 10:20 class this morning.

You open up the app that monitors both your doorbell camera and the camera that is tucked away in your living room bookshelf, and you select the last capture that was made from your hallway at 11:25. The video that pops up makes your heart sink. 

Closing your apartment door, with his head down enough that his black baseball hat obstructs his face, is Cody. The camera captures him saying, "I have left your humble abode," before he turns and walks to the stairs. 

What was Cody doing at your apartment? You only had two drinks and a shot; how could you have gotten so drunk that you forgot about this?

You select the second to last clip and sure enough, there you are stepping up to the door with your head tipped forward, muttering, "Thank you. Small gold key." Cody unlocks your apartment door and then you both enter. 

This feels wrong. Your hands tremble as you back out of this camera and select the one in the living room. It is a little more sensitive to motion and sound, and you are unsurprised when you click on the last video and it is eight minutes long. 

In the footage the two of you enter the apartment – you stumbling over your steps and him as calm and collected as can be. You kick out of your boots, flinging them to the side while propping yourself against the wall, and he has a hand on your arm to keep you steady, then he toes from his sneakers, saying, “Just want to get you a glass of water, okay?”

You are the first to hobble away, in the direction of your bedroom. Cody pulls his phone from his pocket, thumbs around like he is sending a message, and then his phone's flashlight comes on, shining directly into the camera but not bright enough to obstruct the image of him. He looks up as if surprised by the mistake, muttering, "Shit," as he pans his phone left to right rather quickly, and then he shuts it off and walks deeper into the apartment. Your heart pounds as he disappears from the frame and you listen intently for whatever comes next.

It is a relief when you hear the kitchen sink running, then you hear the sound of a cabinet door closing. The water shuts off and you hear the faint sounds of footsteps, followed by seconds of silence and then distant voices. Although you are unable to make out what the two of you say from the end of the hallway – presumably from your bedroom – you are able to pick up on the tone of your voice, which is even and calm. His voice is too soft and deep to hear clearly.

Minutes pass and then footsteps can be heard coming back down the hallway. You think that you can hear him say, "It was nice meeting you, Sandra," and then he comes into frame speaking into his phone. This must be the second phone call. 

"Sorry the night ended this way," he says as he continues to the front door. “If you ever want drinks and a burger again let me know. I’m just a short cab ride away.” 

He steps into his shoes as he speaks, wiggling his heel into place. Then he reaches for the front door, opens it, and hovers. You watch as he stands perfectly still for a couple of seconds and then turn back around. His gaze appears to be scanning the room, but for what, you are unable to say. And although you know that the camera is hidden well within your bookshelf, you could swear he looks into it and stares for just another second. Then he turns back around, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out your keys. He hangs them onto a hook and then walks out, quietly shutting the door behind him. 

"What the fuck?" you mutter under your breath. 

Something about this night is not right and you immediately thumb through your phone and dial Josie. She should be on her way to the lab right now and you hope that she is alone. 

Josie picks up on the third ring. "Good morning, sunshine!"

"Josie," you mutter, squeezing your eyes closed. "Can you…fuck. Do you think you can do a blood test for me?"

Through a chuckle, Josie asks, "A blood test?"

"And maybe a urine test? I think I was drugged last night."

"Whoa whoa, slow down," Josie says, voice laced with concern. "What happened? Did you meet what's-his-face on a date?"

"Vante, no. I didn't meet him. I mean, I went to meet him but I think he stood me up." You sound frantic, and as you speak, sweat pools on your forehead and palms. "I ended up chatting with some other guy instead and we shared a drink and a shot, but I blacked out."

"I mean, you are a lightweight," she chides, making you chuckle nervously. This is Josie's way: to tease you until you feel less frantic. And it works. Your shoulders drop and you shake your head, letting out a deep breath. 

"I know,” you laugh somewhat forcefully, allowing the faintest of smiles. "But this is different. I swear I didn't drink very much. I wasn't out for more than a few hours but I know I nursed my drinks. And we only had one shot."

"Have you told Seokjin?" 

You grimace, feeling awkward as you admit, "No."

Josie hums, then says, "I'm actually not at the lab right now. Special Victims needed me to process something for one of their cases, but they have me over in Queens for the day."

"Shit," you mutter, feeling hopeless.

"Oh, I know! I'll call the nurse at your school and speak with them. I'll tell them that you have already met with a case worker about getting a forensics kit done and let them know that you will be coming in. They should be able to get you situated. I will swing by on my way back to the office in a few hours and take care of it for you."

Although you are certain you were not assaulted, you agree with Josie's offer to have a full forensics kit done, which includes a rather thorough examination. You just hope that you will be able to keep it all under wraps and that nothing will be reported to any of the higher-ups. You are not one hundred percent clear about who on campus knows that you are an agent and who thinks you are a student. As far as you have been able to glean, only the dean has spoken in a way that suggests he is in on it. But part of keeping your persona in check is not actively seeking confirmation that someone is unaware; you operate as if everyone is.

Still, it is too good of an offer to pass up. "Thanks, lovely," you say with a smile. 

"Anything for you, bella," Josie sing-songs, making you smile even harder. 

You say your goodbyes and get ready for the day. In case something happened last night, you keep the same clothing and underwear on but swap your flannel for a warm oversized blue sweater. You also pack a pair of underwear to change into once the examination is complete. 

Then you think of something to tell your boss.

For a Wednesday morning campus is packed. There is some sort of event in the quad with live music and various tables that appear covered in informative brochures and colorful freebies, but you are disinterested in what is happening. Likely, it is something to get students excited for exams, with snacks and plastic trinkets to brighten their moods. You swerve through groups of students and head straight toward the nurse's office in the centermost building on campus. In the somewhat horseshoe-shaped area, it is the building that all paths lead to. Anxiety simmers as your heavy footfalls carry you up a short incline and through automatic sliding doors. 

Ahead and to the left is a lady sitting at a computer and you slow your steps as you make your way toward her, eyes adjusting to the dimmer indoor lights. The woman is older with curly greyish-blonde hair and she types for a while before lifting her gaze to notice you. 

"I should have an appointment with the nurse," you say, sliding your backpack from your shoulders with the intent to pull your student ID card from the smallest front pocket. 

The woman nods her head to the door behind you and says, "You can go on in."

Nervously, you nod, mutter a thanks under your breath, and bounce the fairly heavy backpack to adjust it in place on your back. As you turn to make your way into the nurse's office the edges of your vision blur and you feel your head get foggy. Now is certainly not the time for a panic attack but it is hard not to fear for the worst as you reach for a metal handle and turn, then pull the heavy wooden door open. There is a small waiting room with some black leather chairs and you glance around, wondering if you should have a seat. You are relieved to find nobody else is waiting. 

With a deep, fortifying breath, you shuffle over to a stiff armchair by a window and wait. You decide that if the tests come back with a positive result you will spill the beans to your boss and get the police involved. Either way, you are back at square one.

* * *

You were a wreck during your first two classes, barely able to focus during set design and missing so many keys in piano that you begin to worry that maybe you are not cut out for this whole undercover college student thing. And now that Josie has your samples in hand, you feel nauseated and lament going to your next class. Sure, you have experienced the stress of college before but you have never done all of this with test results looming over you. Not this kind of test, anyway.

The moment piano class is over you check your email, wondering whether Min's pupil has gotten back to you. At this point, you are less worried about the undercover job than you are about acing your piano exam. You may not actually be gunning for a degree but that does not mean you want a poor grade for all your efforts. 

There is a part of you that finds your anxiety funny. Why you are worried about grades for a fake degree is beyond you, and you chalk it up to needing something to keep your mind busy. 

Deciding you have no stomach for costume design, you shoot your professor a message letting her know that you are feeling under the weather and then quickly make your way through campus, shivering as a gust of afternoon breeze hits you. You keep your eyes on the sidewalk, clenching your phone in one hand and your black backpack strap in the other, just beside your armpit, as you walk quickly toward the bus stop. 

A short bus ride to the train station, and you pop underground for three stops before surfacing a block and a half from your apartment. Your phone buzzes to life once you come about halfway up the steps from the underground station and you check to find Josie has sent you a text. 

Josie's news has assuaged most of your concerns but you still cannot shake the fact that you blacked out, lost time, and allowed a strange man into your home. You are thankful that nothing went wrong but the fact that so many things could have gone terribly wrong weighs on you. One thing is for certain, you are not going to leave a drink unattended with a stranger ever again. And no more accepting drinks that you do not watch the bartender make and hand over, preferably directly into your own hands. These are survival tips you have always been aware of, especially in your line of work, but never have you considered that you could fall victim. 

As you dangle gold earrings in front of your pierced lobes your phone vibrates. Ordinarily, you do not hear from Josie until she is on her way to the club and you are confused by who could be contacting you this early. 

You hope beyond hope that it is not Cody. The possibility even causes your hand to stall beside your hip before you finally reach into the pocket of your tight blue jeans and pull the device out. 

The text is not from Cody, but you are just as surprised by what you find. Steeling yourself, you take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Although you know that accepting any invitation from Vante is best for the sake of your mission, you are not eager to bend to his will whenever he commands you to.

From the way he texts, it seems clear that this man is definitely Vante. Or, at least, the man with whom you were texting when the two of you first matched on tinder. It does not assuage your indignance, but it does make you wonder whether there could be something here for you to work with. 

You think it over, weighing whether a night with this man would be worth missing a ladies night with Josie. He is your target, after all. If he is who he says he is...

You should go for it.

Your heart is a caged animal behind your ribs and you almost feel ridiculous for allowing a man to get to you the way he seems to have a knack for doing. You almost lament the thought that the deep, rough voice who spoke to you on the phone two nights ago might not be attached to this eager texter. But if it is both Vante and Min who you are communicating with then your chances of being in the company of both men seems high. You cannot even begin to wrap your head around the thought that you get butterflies like this from two separate men.

With a deep exhale you fan yourself with your hands and continue to get ready. Feeling flustered over a man who you have been instructed not to become attached to is not going to get you anywhere. 

Your phone buzzes as you apply lip gloss, this time with a text from Josie to say that she is on her way. You take in your simple outfit of a tight black tank top tucked into a white high-waisted tennis skirt, and do a little twirl, admiring the flash of thighs and the way your curves are highlighted. You grab a black silk bomber jacket with floral watercolor print and slide your feet into some loosely laced black boots, then you tuck your lipgloss, phone, and wallet into the pockets of the jacket and slide your hands inside. The walk through your building, down the steps, and out the lobby is short, and you quickly make your way to the curb with your hand out, delighted when it only takes a moment for a cab to pull over. 

The ride to the club is quick and you stare out the window, watching brick and cement buildings pass by. The streets are still busy for a Tuesday but scarce compared to the weekends, with far fewer food stalls and people milling about. Even the club is much slower and as the cab pulls to the curb you do not see anyone, including Josie, waiting outside. You suppose she has probably gone inside, so you pay for the ride with your phone, thank the driver, and get out into the cool night air. 

The music coming from the club is much tamer than it is on the weekend and you wish you had dressed a little more casually. But, of course, Josie put thoughts of Daniel in your head, and if you are being honest, it really has been far too long since you have let loose and had a little fun. 

A security guard sits on a stool just inside the door, and you pull out the ID with your fake identity to show him. Once inside, you glance around the space and find Josie leaning against the bar, holding a tall mixed drink while an identical one sits waiting for you. Although you wave to Josie, your eyes scan the bartenders. There are two women on staff and you are instantly disappointed to see that Daniel is not working. You do your best not to show your disappointment, however, approaching Josie with a pep in your step and a wide smile.

Josie holds her arms out and wiggles into a hug, swaying in a way that matches the tempo of the music playing – some indie pop song with delicate female vocals that feels out of place in a nightclub, but that fits the more relaxed vibe. 

"Damn, bella, you look cute tonight!" Josie says as she lets you go and takes a step back, eyeing your outfit. 

You roll your eyes and shake your head, attempting to be modest, while taking in her gorgeous low-cut black velvet dress with long sleeves and a short a-line skirt. The dress has shimmery stars covering its surface and you rub your hands over the shoulders, feeling as the velvet goes soft and rough beneath your palms.

"You look cute tonight," you say, squeezing Josie's shoulders before leaning against the bar and reaching for your drink. "I love this dress."

"It low-key gives Miss Frizzle," Josie says as she grabs her drink and pulls the straw to her lips. 

You laugh, nodding in appreciation of such a timeless reference. "Fitting, since you are our little science wiz."

Why Josie finds it wise to drink Long Island iced tea on Tuesday night is beyond you, and you pick up the tall thin glass and take a sip through the straw, instantly recoiling from the strength and sweetness. 

"These girls don't fuck around!" Josie says, clearly laughing at your reaction. "They don't make it as strong as Daniel but they make it sweeter."

At the mention of Daniel you must pull a minuscule enough expression for Josie to notice because she mock-pouts and says, "Aweee, are you sad the hot bartender isn't here to flirt with you and give us free drinks?"

Affronted, you scoff, hold your hand to your heart, and ask, "Excuse me?"

Josie laughs. She says, "Don't worry, I saw him around here somewhere," and you instantly look over your shoulder and begin to scan the place, trying your hardest to get a peek. 

When Josie bursts out laughing even more you sigh and realize she is just picking on you. Although you have the urge to smack your lovely friend, you pout instead and say, "Not funny."

Josie's entire face is scrunched up in delight, but she widens her eyes as if pleading with you to say, "I'm serious, though." Nodding her chin, she says, "He's right there."

At this point you are unwilling to turn and look. You are determined that Josie is making fun of you some more, and you have already worn your eagerness on your sleeve. 

So when a deep voice says, "Well, hello, there," in your ear, you gasp and flinch, causing Josie to laugh even harder. 

Daniel walks around until he is standing beside the gap between you and Josie, and you catch his gaze dropping down to your boots before he blinks and looks you in the eye. 

"Ladies," he says, smiling wide at Josie and back at you. "What brings the two of you here on a Tuesday night?"

"Great question," you mutter as you lift your strong mixed drink and take a hearty sip from the straw, filling your mouth with sugar and booze, and feeling the cold of the drink all the way down your throat. 

"I had a breakthrough at work and decided to have a drink to celebrate," Josie supplies, nice and vague. "But we probably won't be out long. I, for one, am exhausted."

This part is news to you and you widen your eyes as if to ask Josie what she is talking about. She simply ignores you, flashing her winning smile at Daniel. 

"Well I have some things to finish up here," Daniel says, cocking his head to the side, to where you assume he was before this moment. "But if you're still here in, say, twenty minutes, I would love to share a drink with you two."

You open your mouth to say that you may still be here, but Josie is louder, saying, "She will definitely be here."

"Sounds good," Daniel says through a chuckle. He turns to walk away, then twists back and mutters, "See you soon," with a wink, causing your entire face to burn bright hot.

The moment he is out of earshot you give your friend a light smack on the arm, whisper-yelling, "What are you doing?" 

Josie is a giddy, giggly mess, and she drinks back the remainder of her Long Island in one sip then sets the empty glass on the bar. "I'm giving you space to have a little fun," she says, causing you to feel a range of emotions all at once. 

All of this has been her idea – from coming out to the club to abandoning you so you can have a drink with a handsome man who you hardly know – so you do not feel guilty about her choices. But you do feel a tinge of something akin to regret at the thought of her choosing to leave so soon. 

"I'll have another drink and we can dance while you wait for him," she insists, turning to the bar to flag down one of the tenders. You accept this proposal but choose to nurse your drink for the time being. After all, you need to attempt to be more present in class tomorrow. 

With the dancefloor less crowded and the DJ playing hits from the 90s and 00s the two of you spread out and goof around, pulling out all the stops with dance moves from your yesteryears, taking turns fishing for one another and rolling your legs in tootsie rolls. Winded from a very eager attempt at the running man, you bend with your hands on your knees and laugh, catching your breath. Josie is all but collapsed into a tall table laughing and wiping tears from her eyes. 

This is nice, being out with a friend and letting go of your inhibitions the way you used to. Typically the club is so crowded that all you can manage is a wiggle here and there on the dancefloor. Time has flown and you are surprised to glance toward the bar and find Daniel standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his attention on you.

"I think we have an audience," you say, too happy to feel embarrassed.

Josie pulls out her phone and checks the time, then yawns dramatically and says, "Damn, I sure am tired!"

With a roll of your eyes, you shake your head. Once Josie gets something in her mind there is no going back, so rather than try to convince her that you would like to spend more time together, you follow her off the dancefloor and prepare to say your goodbyes. Josie wraps you in a nice tight hug as Daniel kicks off the bar and approaches.

"Take good care of this one," she says to him, making you roll your eyes again.

Daniel says, "Of course," in Korean, then he clears his throat and says, "You have my word," in English while slightly bowing his head. 

As Josie walks away you approach the bar eager for water, watching from the corner of your eye as Daniel follows.

"Josie doesn't speak Korean," you tease, half turning your attention to him while waiting for one of the bartenders. 

"I wouldn't think so," he says with a chuckle. "After a long day it sometimes feels a little muddy on the tongue to be bilingual."

You hum and nod. "I know what you mean."

"I spent the evening meeting with a couple who are scouting the club for an event and they switched a lot between both, so now my wires are all crossed."

"Tongue twisted," you say with a smile, catching a glint in Daniel's eye before one of the bartenders approaches. You turn to her and say, "Just water for me," while Daniel holds up a pint of golden beer to silently let her know that he is already taken care of.

Suddenly the noise of the club feels overwhelming rather than welcoming. Perhaps it is the shift from dancing like a fool with Josie to standing still and struggling with what to say to this man who has only ever served you drinks. Yes, he is beautiful and he smells like a masculine athletic body spray, but his presence isn't quite as titillating as you always imagined it might be.

A glass of cold water is set before you and you mouth, thank you, as you take it and drink back half of its contents. The chill works a shiver up your spine and you close your eyes for a beat and take a deep breath. As you open your eyes and turn to Daniel his gaze is fixed on you and smoldering hot.

"Wanna go someplace a little more quiet?" he asks.

You nod, unsure where this someplace could possibly be, and he turns away from the bar and leads you to a door along the nearby wall marked Employees Only. Although it is a reprieve from the club as the door is shut and all the noise is drowned out, you feel extra awkward standing in this much smaller space. 

There is a desk, a leather chair, and several grey metal filing cabinets. Strewn about are stacks of paperwork and other stationery, and along the walls are cardboard boxes spilling over with branded shirts, cardboard coasters, and other bar paraphernalia. Daniel walks over to the desk and lean-sits with his legs outstretched. Rather than take the chair, you step close to him and lean against the wall.

"Tell me about yourself," Daniel says as he lifts his beer to his lips and has a sip, never taking his eyes off you. 

His attentive stare makes you squirm and you rack your brain for information. "Currently I am studying theater arts and music."

Daniel's eyes widen and he cracks a smile. "That's…interesting."

You roll your eyes and mutter, "Shut up," feeling an odd sense of defensiveness despite smiling. 

"I thought you were older," he says, straightening up. 

You hum and nod. "I am. Took some time off to help with my father's veterinarian office and did a little traveling before finally settling on a major. So, compared to my classmates I am definitely several years older."

"Man, everyone's talking about traveling today, it's giving me the itch," Daniel says as he lifts his beer to his lips. He takes a drink and says, "That couple I was telling you about were talking about living in Japan. One of them is a model and just spent time in Italy."

You straighten up, feeling your blood go cold. What are the odds? "This couple…did you say they were Korean?"

"Yeah!" Daniel beams. "They were very eccentric but clearly have a knack for throwing parties. It should be fun."

Daniel gulps back the rest of his beer, slowly draining the glass of its golden contents. Your mind races with questions to ask about this pair but they all seem too strange to ask unprompted and you cannot imagine Daniel would give their names or physical descriptions outright. 

Think, you berate yourself. Put your detective skills to the test and think. You suppose it is not outside the realm of possibility for you to pretend to know an eccentric globetrotting Korean pair. After all, if these are your targets then one of them works at the same university that you attend, giving you reason to be acquainted with him. 

You lick your lips, steady your breathing, and decide that the best course of action is to pretend to recognize the pair based on his description. But you are surprised when Daniel stands up straight and delicately takes the glass of water from your fingers, setting it on the desk and interrupting your plan.

"Enough of this talk," he says, stepping so close the heat radiates from his body. "I didn't bring you in here to chat about clients."

Fingertips graze over your chin and you instinctively tilt your head toward him, letting out a shaky breath as you ask, "Oh?"

"I see the way you look at me," Daniel utters softly, lips mere inches from yours. All thought screeches to a halt and you stare at his lips in shock. Is he really about to do this? "I like you, Sandra. From the moment you first sauntered up to my bar I have fantasized about bringing you back here and pressing you against this wall."

You say nothing, merely lick your lips once more. You have thought of it too – of course you have. Daniel touching you just as he is now. Daniel slotting his lips to yours and stealing away your breath. But now it feels so abrupt and strange. And honestly, you hate the thought of being romanced by someone who doesn’t know your name. 

"May I?" he asks, leaning closer and gently wafting warm breath over your mouth. 

Like a fool, you nod, eager for his touch despite not feeling wholly present and receptive. After the last few days your life has been a whirlwind and rather than feeling like an exciting reprieve, Daniel's presence only seems to add to your anxiety. Still, you close your eyes and tilt your chin forward. When Daniel's lips meet yours, you suck in a gasp and allow him to press and lick and tease. 

It feels good the way he very delicately urges your mouth to move for him. Tiny sparks ignite causing you to tense and then relax into the touch. But it is not Daniel's sharp features and deep voice you picture as his tongue dances over the length of yours and sends a shiver through you. It is Vante's sultry photos and alluring flirtation that cause your body to react. As Daniel's fingertips graze down the lengths of your arms you imagine Min's skilled musician hands playing you like one of his well-loved instruments. Daniel groans and deepens the kiss and you remember the way the mysterious deep voice on the phone hummed and chuckled in your ear before asking what you were wearing.

Your hands lift as Daniel's fingers dance from your fingertips to your waist. As you bring your arms up to drape over his shoulders Daniel's palms press into your hips, thumbs digging in circles over your hips and catching on the fabric of your skirt. You struggle to hold your balance, gasping and whimpering as Daniel's kiss becomes sloppy and somewhat frantic. You know he is picturing you bent over this desk or sitting at the edge with your skirt hiked up and inviting him to have a taste. The thought is enticing but it also feels wrong. All of this feels wrong. 

With a gasp, you tilt your head back and turn it to the side just enough to evade another eager press of lips against your mouth. Daniel's nose grazes over your jaw and his lips mark your throat and neck with spit, causing you to shiver and smile. You are at war with your senses and you wish that you could easily let go and allow him to have you any way he pleases. But you cannot, for the life of you, stop thinking about them.

"Sorry," you all but whisper, sliding your arms from Daniel's shoulders and attempting to gain your composure. "This feels great, really," his fingers graze over your hips and move closer to your heat, "but it's moving a little too fast."

This slows Daniel's movements to a stop but he remains pressed against you. He nods as his lips trail slow warm kisses just below your ear. You wish you could fully lose yourself to the feeling. 

"Alright," he mutters, finally standing up tall and giving you a measly amount of space. "I get it."

Daniel looks positively wrecked and you question your decision, absolutely swooning over how his lips are pinkened from use and his hair is slightly disheveled. There is a light sheen of sweat over his neck and you imagine marking the skin and tasting its salty tang. But alas, he is not the one you imagine with your eyes closed and if you are going to remain professional and not get attached to those phantoms who linger in the depths of your innermost desires, then allowing another man to distract you and fill you with wild fantasies is probably not the best course of action. 

"Thank you," he says, leaning forward to press one last kiss against your forehead. The move feels a bit odd and somewhat patronizing, and you smile, fighting back the urge to chuckle. 

"Thank you," you say, doing your best to sound sweet. 

You are sweaty and aroused and confused and you need to remove yourself from this situation and go home. When Daniel finally takes a step back and gives you space, you reach for the water and drink half of its remaining contents then pull your phone from your jacket pocket and begin to order a cab. 

"I can give you a ride," Daniel offers, and you consider it for a moment before deciding that you would like to keep the number of men who know where you live to a minimum for the time being. 

"It's alright," you insist, confirming your address and watching as a car icon appears on a map and begins making its way toward your location marker. "I have an early morning so I should run. Lost track of time. But this was really fun and I hope to see you soon."

Daniel seems taken slightly aback by how quickly your mood has shifted and he watches as you shove your phone into your pocket and rub your hands down your front to straighten yourself out. Feeling a bit guilty for how eager you are to jet, you stand on your toes and press a kiss against Daniel's jaw, then quickly turn for the door. 

In a rush, you are out into the loud club, and your heart riots in your chest. Everything feels off balance and you make your way quickly past the bar to the open door, sparing a glance at nothing and nobody as you keep your head down and speed toward the exit. 

As you step outside your phone buzzes and you are delighted to see that your cab is close. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and weigh the idea of making a really, really bad choice. What if you did reach out to Vante and tell him all about how pent-up you feel? What if you allowed the deep, rough voice you heard the night before to lull you into pleasure as your hands pinch and squeeze and caress your body.

The car pulls to the curb and you hop in quickly, wasting no time to strap into the seatbelt and rest your head back. You absolutely should not reach out to Vante. But god, you want to. As the city lights pass and you quickly arrive to your apartment, you weigh the pros and cons. Realistically you could be forward on the phone and more reserved in person. Is it really a big deal allowing a disembodied voice to get you off, even if that voice belongs to a target with whom you should absolutely not form any sort of relationship?

You pay for the cab ride on your phone as it pulls in front of your brownstone, thanking the driver as you hurriedly and haphazardly slide out onto the sidewalk and scurry to the front door. Your fingers fumble with your keys as one hand grips tightly to your phone. An evil little voice in your head echos text him, text him, text him, taunting you with a world of possibility.

What could one innocent message hurt?

As you make your way to the second story and ready your key, you make your decision. You are full of frenetic energy that just your hands and toys alone will not satiate. You need to hear that voice again, regardless of which of those men it may belong to. In a rush of fabric you drop your jacket in the middle of the living room, kicking your boots off in different directions as you shuffle to your bedroom. You must be a sight to behold and you laugh softly at the thought of replaying the footage of this entrance on the camera app.

In your room, you climb onto your bed, sitting against the wall with a pillow wedged behind your back. There is a tremble in your hands as you lift your phone and type and delete multiple messages before settling on a simple emoji. It takes your breath away to see how fast Vante responds and you close your eyes to take a deep breath before reading his reply.

It takes under a minute for your phone to ring and you take in a fortifying breath. You still have time to back out. You can decline or ignore this call and continue not crossing this threshold. He may understand if you are shy and apologize…but you do not want to back out.

You accept the call and slowly lift the phone to your ear, eager to hear the man on the other side. Silence hangs briefly and you will yourself to lick your lips and softly say, "Hello, V."

The deep, rough voice you remember says, "There you are," and your arms instantly break out in goosebumps.

"Sorry," you utter, squeezing your eyes closed, "I feel shy."

"So you said," he responds with a soft chuckle. "But you have me now, and you are hearing my voice. Are you satisfied?"

What a loaded question. You grin and bite down on your lip, doing your best not to loudly swoon as reality settles over you and you formulate just how far you can safely take this interaction without losing your wits entirely.

"I suppose…" you tease. Perhaps he will eagerly play along and supply you with what you need without you having to ask for it. You absentmindedly dance the fingertips of your free hand up your thigh, teasing just below the hem of your skirt. You feel electric but far from satisfied and you add, "It's a start, anyway."

The man hums, filling you with warmth. It is dangerous the way he sounds in your ear and your lips fall open on the sound. "A start? So, tell me, what can I do to fully satisfy you, pretty?"

Why must he force you to ask for it? You take another deep breath and feel the way it fills you. Your head absolutely spins as you formulate your request.

"I need…" You lick your lips.

"You need…" he taunts back, drawing out the words.

"I feel pent-up, V…" you admit, eyes still squeezed shut.

A pleased hum fills your ear and works a shiver along your spine. Is this how he sounds when he moans? Or is it even more pretty? "And my voice excites you?"

Your lips flounder slightly before you swallow your pride and whisper, "Yes."

His voice sharpens ever so slightly as he says, "Ask nicely for me."

Your eyes flutter open and you take in the dark room, grounding yourself in your familiar surroundings. You can still back out. You can change your mind. But you won't. Not now that you have already come so far.

"Please," you ask sweetly, a bit desperately.

"Are you home?"

Your voice is barely above a whisper. "Yes."

"So early."

You feel inexplicably sheepish. "Yeah...wasn't feeling it tonight."

"Fair enough. Are you alone?"

"Yes."

A brief pause, then, "Are you touching yourself?"

You shake your head and say, "No," as your eyelids flutter closed and you continue to dance your fingers over your thigh. 

"Do you want to be touching yourself?"

Your breath hitches. He is so forward and yet it is precisely what you need. "Yes."

"What are you wearing for me, baby?"

Baby. That's new. You like the way it sounds on his tongue. 

"A tank top and skirt," you say, dragging your fingertips higher up your thigh. 

"Bra and panties?"

"Yes. Thin. Cotton. Matching set." Suddenly you are incapable of stringing a full sentence together and you are relieved that he does not seem to mind.

"Color?"

You smile to yourself. "White."

"White," he says in a gruff voice, as if the image affects him the way his voice affects you. You hum in agreement and he says, "So if you happened to be wet for me I would be able to see it through the thin fabric."

"Yes," you say on reflex because you imagine that what he says is likely true.

"Are you?" he asks, and you hesitate, unsure precisely what he is asking before he clarifies and adds, "Wet for me."

"I am," you admit as warmth floods your neck and cheeks.

"Touch your panties," he softly commands, "for me."

You drag your fingers higher over the crest of your thighs until finally, they graze over your slit, causing you to sigh happily to the touch. 

"Such a good girl," he praises and you swell with pride, touching yourself more firmly. "I can hear the way you breathe with pleasure. Don't hold back, baby. Tell me how it feels to touch yourself to my voice."

"Feels good," you groan, swirling your fingers over your clothed clit. 

"Do you enjoy being told what to do?" he asks, taking you by surprise. 

Your fingers hesitate then continue as you mull over how risky of a question this could be. "Yes," you finally admit.

"There is nothing that turns me on more than a beautiful, eager, submissive toy in my bed. Is that what you desire, baby? To be praised and used like a fuck doll?"

You should not give this information to a man who is potentially dangerous. You should absolutely not admit to the way this question fills you with a hot, deep arousal that courses through you like lava. 

As you open your mouth but fumble around syllables, unsure whether to confess to just how much his words affect you, there is a sound from the other end of the line like a door closing and a voice calling out.

"Shit," the man says, ripping you from your thoughts. "My roommate is home already." 

"Oh," you say, trying not to sound too disappointed. This so-called roommate must be his husband.

"I, uh…I gotta go, baby. So sorry."

"No worries," you say, swallowing thickly and taking a deep breath. It is probably for the best that this conversation was interrupted where it was.

"Finish what you started and tell me all about it on our date?" he asks teasingly.

"Oh my god," you say, embarrassed. There is no way you would be able to talk about this to his face. Not on a first date, anyway.

"Sleep sweet, pretty," he says, giving you goosebumps. This phrase sounds familiar, but from where? "We'll chat soon. Text me if you're feeling lonely."

"Alright," you say and you hang up before any more words can be exchanged. Everything about this interaction – about this entire night – feels fucking weird. You have the distinct feeling that there is something you are forgetting but nothing comes to mind and it fills you with anxiety.

You opt to shower off this day and climb into bed with your favorite bullet vibrator. You remember only the intriguing things the deep voice belonging to Vante or Min has said to you and selectively forget everything else. There is plenty of time to unpack this mess tomorrow. For now, you must sleep.

* * *

Your classes are a blur. All you can focus on is getting through the day and arriving to the practice rooms at 5 p.m. The events of last night replay in your mind and you do your best to shut them out but it is hard not to think about Daniel's lips and V's (Min's?) voice and your fingers… You fidget with the hem of your sweater sleeves and dig your fingernails into your palms in an attempt to stay present. For the most part your efforts fail. 

By the time you make it to the practice rooms your nerves are so alite that you have to shake out your hands and silently pep talk yourself. You're okay, you're okay, you are going to be okay. It is not as if you are going to see Min today. Relax.

A tall man with dark skin and a wide, welcoming smile greets you. "You must be Sandra," he says while lifting a hand for you to shake.

"Yes," you say, taking his hand. His shake is firm and brief.

"Mateo. Follow me."

Mateo wears a mustard yellow beanie, a blue sweater, and blue jeans. He leads you into a wide-open practice space that contains a brown upright piano on one side of the room and a desk on the other. You approach the piano instinctively and sit on the bench while Mateo grabs a wooden chair and pulls it close. 

"Tell me what you want to focus on and then we will assess where you're at," he prompts, and you take a deep breath.

"Speed, mostly," you say, imagining what might be easy to fake being bad at. "And fluidity. I am getting the notes but it still feels clunky."

"Common issues," Mateo assures with a smile, making you smile in return. "Can you play the song that I have provided?"

You turn to the piano and observe the book sitting open on the rack, finding Mozart's Turkish March. You smile, holding back a grin because yes, you absolutely can play this song. 

Feigning sheepishness, you nod once and settle on the piano bench facing the keys. You start slow at first, taking care to make mistakes with your thumbs and middle fingers. Although your attempt sounds better than you would like considering you are in a tutoring session, you are proud of your performance as you huff out sigh after sigh of frustration. At the end of the second page, you squeeze your eyes shut, shake out your hands and take a deep breath.

"Sorry," you mutter. "Nervous."

"No sweat at all," Mateo says kindly. "You're not as bad as you might think you are."

Great, you think, perhaps I should be worse.

You open your eyes and begin again from the top. This time you allow yourself to be a little better, taking it slower and hitting more correct notes. 

Mateo says, "Very good," filling you with confidence as you continue on to the second page. 

You get close to the bottom of the page when you notice a figure entering the room, and when you lift your eyes for a brief moment the world screeches to a halt and your hands clumsily strike discordant keys before stopping entirely. Silence hangs as a familiar man gives a wry smile and nods his head to Mateo, muttering something you are unable to hear.

"Mister Theodore," Mateo says as he stands and approaches Min, who walks over to the desk on the far side of the room. Is that…his desk?

The two of them quietly exchange words before Min takes his leave, holding onto a folder and quickly exiting the room. You feel warm all over, hands prickling with sweat as you watch his retreating form and recall everything you know about this man from his file. 

He is beautiful and slender in a dark button-up shirt and slacks, commanding the room without having to audibly speak a word. You hold your breath in anticipation to hear his voice but he is in and out with hardly a sound, gone just as fast as he arrived. 

“Apologies,” Mateo says as he takes his seat, pointing with an open palm toward the piano. “Please continue.”

On the plus side, Min’s sudden appearance has caused a tremble in your hands that is strong enough that you genuinely make mistakes while playing. At least your need for a tutor sounds believable. What are the odds that his desk is right there?

*

lie down in the fire with me i burn everything frequently if it don't feel good when you first get in wait 'til it gets under your skin

🎵 visit the playlist

hello, hello!!! how are we feeling???

some housekeeping: you may notice that the mc had a realization at the end of the last chapter that she forgot about in this chapter. that was the drugs. you also have notice that the blood test came back negative. that was not an error on my part. more will be explained in the future.

i might do a short TaeGi POV chapter to show where their heads are at and why the call was cut short at the end of the chapter 😈😈😈

QUESTIONS??? CONCERNS??? REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE THE LIFEBLOOD OF THIS SITE, BUT LIKES ARE ALSO SUPER APPRECIATED!!! 🤍🤍🤍 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! I LOVE YOU! DRINK SOME WATER AND STRETCH YOUR NECK!!!

tags will be on a separate reblog! 🤍 visit the master post to read the warnings & request to be tagged!

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White Lies is copyright 2023-2025 theharrowing, all rights reserved. No translations or reposts allowed!

[redsrooftopprincess]

Soldier (Part 1)

Part 2

Fem Reader x Raphael

Warnings: Violence, Kidnapping, Suggested Assault

He's been fighting this fight since he was a kid, watching from the shadows, keeping the people of his city safe. Ensuring they can go about their nights unmolested, living boring middle-class civilian lives he could only dream of.

For a long time the bitterness of it consumed him. His teenage years were spent learning to navigate his rage. By his early twenties he'd reached a sort of acceptance. He wasn't happy, or even content, really, but he'd fallen into a comfortable routine and he wasn't quite ready to check out early just yet.

Wake up, check news, coffee w/ dad, check police reports, work out, team meeting, gear up, head out.

The city was his mission, his purpose.

Then he met you, and his mission changed.

Instead of checking the news before rolling out of bed, he started checking for texts from you. Instead of using his lifting time to work through problems and strategies, he uses it to think up excuses to visit. Instead of grabbing a quick cup of coffee at Casey and April's halfway through the night and getting back out on patrol, he sticks around, sometimes for hours, just to talk to you.

And he's grown used to it. To you. To the softness. And while he still goes out on patrol every night, he's started feeling less and less like his only purpose in life is protecting the city.

For the first time in his life, he feels like a person. A real person. And he loves it.

.

Two quick raps againt the metal door as Raphael strides casually into the lab, "Hey, you heard from (Y/N)?"

Donatello doesn't look up from the very tiny reclaimed motherboard he's working on. "Nope. Shit." He jerks his hand back as he singes himself on the soldering iron, cursing his oversized fingers. "Truth be told, I could use her help, too." He looks up at him, "Why?"

"I don't know. Just a feeling."

.

The first thing you notice is the fuzzy feeling in the back of your throat. Then the headache hits full force. Drugged. Your eyes blink open and you squint though the pain into a dimly lit warehouse. As you look around you, you're alone.

The boys have been trying to find the central location of a weapons trafficking ring, and while out today, you'd stumbled upon a lead. Was it really stupid of you to follow it with no communication and no back up? Yes. Are you are preemptively annoyed at Leo for the lecture you are rightfully going to receive later? Also, yes.

Ahead of you is a concrete wall about ten feet wide in blooming shades of sweat-stain yellow, the back of some kind of office, you imagine. Around it and you is an open warehouse filled with crates and equipment, and as the ringing in your ears subsides, you hear some kind of operation buzzing around on the other side of the wall.

You close your eyes as the world spins, and reach for your head with your hand. All you're offered in return is a sharp pain in your wrists. Zip ties. Okay, this is getting worse.

You know this. They coached you on this. It was one of the first things they did. Basic kidnapping protocol. They had a lot of enemies, and the second you laid eyes on them, you became a target.

"Assess the situation."

Once the dizziness passes, you open your eyes and try your legs. Ziptied to the chair legs. Your hands are tied to each other behind your back. Your bag is on the desk ten feet away with your phone peeking out of it. You can hear talking not too far away, but whoever they are is out of sight. In front of you is the wall, behind you is a large roll-up bay door.

"Find where they fucked up."

The chair legs are straight, and no one is watching. You tip the chair back, sliding the zip ties off the ends and looking around before standing as silently as you can. You step through the loop of your arms bringing them in front of you, breaking the hardware store brand zip ties the way they taught you.

"Stay low. Get creative."

You make it to the desk. A middle-aged white male with a patchy goatee stands on the other side of some crates. You manage to grab the strap of your bag and wait until he turns away to pull it toward you. You're careful not to change the location of the bag on the table, just turn it enough to knock your phone off the desk into your hand.

"Find a way to get to us. Even if it's just a phone call."

.

Raph's phone rings in his hand. He holds up and points to it before answering.

"Hey."

"Help me," you whisper into the phone as quietly as you can.

Your whisper is a siren, pulling all focus to the phone in his hand. He makes eye contact with Donatello, who stands as his brother tenses.

"Where are you?" He puts the phone on speaker and sets on the table in front of him. He leans in, straining to hear you.

"I don't know.... I'm in a warehouse, but that could be literally anywhere."

"Describe it." Donnie interjects, striding over to the table, you hesitate. "The smallest detail will help. Don't just use your eyes."

You take one last glance around and close your eyes. You breathe deep. Salt. Iron. The silence of a wide open outside, not the cramped streets of the city.

"The Yard. I'm in a warehouse at the Navy Yard." You look around, the new information providing context, "It looks old. Rusted through in some places. I'm-"

You scream as your violently pulled out from under the desk by your upper arm.

"(Y/N)!!!" Raphael roars, bracing against the table.

As you're being dragged to your feet, you kick your phone under one of the taller stacks of crates. The boys listen as you're tossed, unceremoniously, back into the metal discount party supply chair, and backhanded across the face for emphasis.

The force of the blow nearly knocks you out of the chair, but as you right yourself, you're laughing.

"What the fuck is so funny?" Shitty goatee demands, his fetid breath washing over you. Why can't bad guys brush their teeth? It's basic hygiene.

You grin up at him through bloody teeth, that even now are probably cleaner than his, "There's been a trace running on that call from the moment they picked up."

"Shit." He says, annoyed. He sends a couple lackeys over to move the crates.

"Won't do any good," you call over, "they probably already have your location by now."

"Why? Who did you call?" The man demands.

You blink up at him. He doesn't know? So you were kidnapped by just a normal... everyday asshole...?

Oh, this poor, dumb bastard.

"Just a couple friends of mine," you say casually as your grin widens, "They're gonna tear you apart."

The man straightens and looks down at you with a disgusting smile. "Listen, bitch. With the amount of firepower in this building, I can't wait to see 'em try."

You look over at the guys trying to move the crates and get to the phone. The man takes that opportunity to grab you roughly by the hair and throw you down against the concrete.

"In the meantime..."

Seventeen seconds. That's how long it takes to find a location. That's how long he listens them hurt you.

.

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Head down 'til the work is done

Waiting on that morning sun

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Head in the dust, feet in the fire

Labour on that midnight wire

Listening for that angel choir

You got nowhere to run

You wanna take a drink of that promise land

You gotta wipe the dirt off of your hands

Careful son, you got dreamer's plans

But it gets hard to stand

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Head down 'til the work is done

Waiting on that morning sun

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Quiet now, you're gonna wake the beast

Hide your soul out of his reach

Shiver to that broken beat

Dark into the heat

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Head down 'til the work is done

Waiting on that morning sun

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Soldier keep on marchin' on

Soldier, Fleurie and Tommee Profitt

.

Tag List:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @footninja

[barcarsenal12]

Sickday (Ingrid x Mapi)

Mapi wakes up feeling sick and Ingrid is there to help her (with support from Alexia ofc) angst, but also lots of fluff hurt/comfort!!

TW: Classic sick fic situation, throwing up, passing out, headache.

Mapi woke to darkness. She was a good sleeper-- she rarely woke up before her alarm, much less in the middle of the night, so she was surprised to see that the clock read 2:32 am. She sat up slowly, so as not to disturb her girlfriend sleeping beside her, and moved to flip her pillow to the cold side. The movement was enough, though, to tell her why her body had woken her. She felt a subtle throbbing in her head and brought her hand up to rub at her temple when it moved from the nape of her neck to behind her eyes. 

She lay herself carefully back on her pillow and covered her eyes with the base of her palms. 

----

The next morning, the ache behind her eyes had turned into a pounding. Although Mapi woke when Ingrid started to get up, she stayed motionless, willing the headache to ease away and leave her in peace. It did help to lay still, she thought, but she couldn’t for long. 

As if on que, she heard footsteps walking back through the bedroom door. “Maria? I let you sleep in a little, but we need to get going.” Ingrid called as she moved into the bathroom. 

“Mmm” Mapi replied. It was a pathetic response, she realized, but she couldn’t manage much more with a headache and before breakfast. 

“Come on. There’s coffee in the kitchen.” Ingrid was finished in the bathroom, apparently, because she had moved to Mapi’s side and was brushing the hair away from her forehead to leave a kiss on her hairline. “Time to get up, kjære” 

“Ok.” Mapi breathed out, cracking her eyes open and immediately bringing her hands up to her face, resting them on her cheeks and blocking the light out with her fingers. Ingrid’s eyebrows furrowed, and she traced a finger along Mapi’s face, as if to coax her out of her shell.

“Did you not sleep well?” She frowned picking up that something was off with her girlfriend. 

“Just a headache.” Mapi smiled at her, and pushed herself into a sitting position to prove that Ingrid didn’t have to worry. It did not last long, though, because she brought an arm up to cover her face. “Ay, dios mio”. She groaned

While Mapi liked to complain, she was stoic to a fault when it came to real pain, so Ingrid knew that she must really be hurting. She climbed into bed beside her girlfriend and pulled her against her body, raking her fingers through Mapi’s hair. Mapi sunk into her, eyes closed. Ingrid continued to scratch at her scalp, but kept an eye on the clock. “Stay home today, amor,” She whispered as she pressed a kiss to her neck. “It is just recovery, no one will care.” 

“I can’t.” Mapi sighed, “I care.”

Ingrid hummed. “I wish you would give yourself a break.” 

“Not today.” She whispered. 

Ingrid sighed, then pushed herself up onto her knees and took Mapi’s face in her hands. She pulled her in to place a kiss on her forehead and another soft kiss on her lips.

“Mmm” Mapi hummed softly, smiling at her. 

 “I’ll get you an aspirin, and you will take it,” She pointed an accusing finger at her girlfriends face. 

“And I will take it.” Mapi laughed. 

---

As Ingrid drove them to the training grounds, she was careful to drive smoothly, but she did not miss the way that Mapi’s face tightened when she took a turn too fast. She pulled into the parking lot and parked the car by the door. Ingrid took the key out of the ignition and turned to look at her girlfriend, lips pursed. She took in how tired Mapi looked. How pale. She hadn’t noticed that earlier. 

She reached into her bag in the backseat and handed Mapi a waterbottle. “Drink.” Mapi looked at her with a frown in her eyes. “Please.” As Mapi drank, Ingrid took her face in her hands again and rubbed her thumbs over Mapi’s cheekbones.

“I’m ok, Ing, it’s just a headache” Mapi smiled at her and pretended to be annoyed, but the frustration did not reach her eyes. 

“I know.” Ingrid bit the inside of her cheek. “But tell me if you want to go home.” 

“Te amo.” Mapi whispered, leaning into Ingrid’s grip. 

“Jeg elsker deg” Ingrid whispered back, as if it were a secret. She kissed Mapi’s cheek, frowning at the warmth there, before turning around to open her door. “Time to go, before Alexia sees and calls you soft.” 

“I am not soft.” Mapi grumbled as they got out of the car and took their bags out of the backseat.  

Ingrid laughed, and they started towards the main building. They walked towards the locker room, greeting staff members as they passed. Just before they went inside, Mapi stopped. Ingrid turned, and watched as Mapi rolled her shoulders back. She took a deep breath and forced her face into a cheeky grin. Ingrid frowned as Mapi pushed the doors open and greeted the team with a chearful smile, the pain from the morning hidden behind the positivity Mapi knew she was supposed to bring. 

They each moved to their lockers, which sat at very different ends of the room. Ingrid chatted to Ona and Frido but kept one eye locked on her girlfriend, who seemed to be avoiding her gaze, as if looking at Ingrid would cause her mask to break. 

Very quickly, Lucy launched into an in-depth, enthusiastic explanation of love island UK, trying desperately to get Mapi and Alexia to understand what set it apart from other reality show. 

“So, the men just pick the prettiest girls? That’s gross.” Alexia scoffed. 

“No, no! Sometimes the girls pick the guys first.” Lucy explained. 

“How does someone even get on the show?” Mapi asked. 

“Why? Looking for an upgrade?” Patri poked Mapi in the cheek as she walked by, and Mapi swatted her away. Ingrid, who had clearly been eavesdropping, scoffed from across the room. 

“Looking for an upgrade?” Mapi mocked back at her. “Of course not. I was asking for Alexia.” 

Alexia let out a high pitched huff. “No way. She’s way too whipped for Olga.” Lucy said. They all laughed when Alexia blushed scarlett, and only Ingrid noticed how Mapi took that moment to lean her head back against her cubby and take a deep breath. 

--- 

Mapi was going to make it through the day. She was so close, really. Yes, her headache had been getting increasingly worse, and yes, she was starting to feel nauseous, and yes, she couldn’t stand up too quickly without seeing spots, but she had made it through 3 out of the 4 hours of the session. She couldn’t give up-- not when there was only yoga left. She could feel Ingrid’s eyes on her, and she could picture the exact way her eyebrows were wrinkling in concern. 

Suddenly, she didn’t care, though, because she felt her stomach drop. 

Ingrid watched as Mapi’s face lost all of it’s color. She watched as she sat with a thump back on her yoga mat and closed her eyes. She watched with her lip between her teeth as Mapi shakily steadied herself, before she calmly pushed her body to her feet and, without saying anything to anyone, slowly made her way out of the room. Ingrid was immediately after her (much less calmly) and pushed her way out of the gym’s double doors in time to see the bathroom door down the hall swing closed. 

Ingrid picked up her speed, and shoved her way into the bathroom. “Amor.” she sighed. Mapi was crumpled in front of the toilet, heaving over the bowl. Her legs were folded beneath her and her whole body was slumped in a way that looked terribly uncomfortable, and Ingrid’s heart hurt. It physically hurt for her girl. Mapi leaned her forehead against the side of the toilet bowl and took a shuttering breath, feeling the cool porcelain against her skin. She didn’t notice when Ingrid had come into the bathroom, but she heard footsteps approaching as she tried to pull herself together. Another wave of nausea overcame her, and she waved her hand behind her to signal to the person approaching to please, please leave her alone as she leaned back over the toilet. Ingrid promptly ignored her, and pushed herself in behind Mapi, rubbing her back with one hand and stroking her forehead with the other as she coughed over the bowl. Noting the hair falling out of it’s low bun, Ingrid pulled her hair loose and tied her waves back into a neat ponytail. 

“Kjære,” she whispered against Mapi’s sweaty neck, “Just try to take deep breaths. I’m here.” 

Mapi let her body go limp and slumped back against Ingrid’s chest. “I’m ok.” She said. 

Ingrid huffed out a laugh. “Sure you are, amor.”

“I’m ok.” Mapi repeated, as she sunk further into Ingrid’s embrace. 

Behind them, the door swung open. Their absence had, of course, been notice, and Aitana had clearly been elected to check that no one had died. “Is she ok?” Aitana asked, tentitavly, taking in the scene infront of her. 

“Fine.” Mapi reached a hand up to wave her off from her position, practically catatonic against Ingrid’s body. 

Ingrid scoffed. “Would you bring me a water bottle, Aita?” She asked. Aitana nodded and left the room, the door swinging closed behind her. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.” She whispered into Mapi’s ear. 

“I’m ok. I just need a moment.”  

---

With the charade of hiding illness from teamates clearly over, Mapi allowed Ingrid to take her home and put her to bed. After getting Mapi settled, Ingrid put their training clothes in the laundry and gave the kitchen a once-over with a sponge before deciding that she might as well have an early night, too. It was only 8:30, but she would rather be awake with her sleeping girlfriend than awake on the couch by herself. She picked up Bagheera, turned off the lights in the living room, and made her way to the bedroom. She set Bagheera down on Mapi’s side of the bed, quietly instructing her to be gentle with her Mami, before carefully crawling under the covers beside her girlfriend. Mapi was clearly still awake enough to notice Ingrid’s presence (or maybe she still gravitated towards her in her sleep) because she was soon tucked snugly into Ingrid’s side. Ingrid’s hand found it’s way against Mapi’s scalp, scratching and running her fingers through her hair, and Mapi let out a soft purr of pleasure. Ingrid smiled at the sound and kissed the skin behind Mapi’s ear lightly. She settled herself practically beneath Mapi and Bagheera layed his head on Mapi’s foot and Ingrid’s heart felt so full of love for her little family that she wished she could pull them even closer to her, into an impossibly tight hug. She didn’t dare move, though, and she drifted off soon after. 

--- 

The next day was an off day, thank god. Mapi and Ingrid stayed in bed long after it was socially acceptable before moving to the couch in early afternoon. Mapi was pointlessly pretending to be healthy but didn’t bother trying very hard, because Ingrid would not let her out of her sight either way. Mapi was stuck on the coach eating buttered noodles and drinking tea, watching old football games until the commentary was ringing in her ears. Ingrid could tell that she was getting restless, and joined her on the couch, pulling Mapi to lean against her and scratching her her back until she fell into a restless sleep. Mapi tried to fight the nap, but swore that Ingrid was magical because she could not keep her muscles from relaxing when Ingrid started tracing shapes on her arm. 

Around dinner time, Alexia stopped by to bring Mapi soup and offer her company. Mapi gratefully accepted, and they played nintendo switch while Ingrid online shopped in the kitchen. After a little while, she joined them on the couch to watch their game. 

“I’m going to run to the bathroom.” Mapi mumbled, standing up slowly. 

“Ok, love.” Ingrid smiled. Mapi smiled bag, and leaned over to kiss Ingrid over the arm of the couch before leaving the room. Alexia quickly moved to shut off the TV. 

“How is she doing?” Alexia asked. 

“I don’t know. Just not feeling well, I think. I just…” Ingrid ran a hand through her hair. 

“You’re a worrier.” Alexia chuckled. Ingrid nodded and bit her lip. 

“I just hate to see her hurting.” Alexia nodded sympathetically. They both turned when they heard a voice from the other room. 

“Ingrid? Can you come here please?” Mapi called from the bathroom. Alexia’s eyes widened, suprised at how reserved her best friend sounded, but Ingrid was on her feet in an instant, rushing to Mapi’s side. 

She hurried into the bathroom, and found Mapi leaning against the bathroom sink, fingers gripping the countertop. 

“Ing, I don’t feel well.” Mapi whispered, looking at Ingrid.

Ingrid took in Mapi’s hands on the counter, fingers turning white from the strength with which she gripped the marble. She took in Mapi’s face, paler then she had ever seen it. She took a step forward. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she was sure that she was tearing a hole in her cheek when her teeth found it again “What doesn’t feel good, kjære?”

Mapi swallowed, and Ingrid thought that she could see her whole body slump forward an inch. She had never seen Mapi look so weak. “I feel like I’m going to pass out.” Mapi breathed. 

Ingrid’s eyes went wide. “Amor?” She swallowed, moving closer to Mapi. For the first, time, she noticed that Mapi was trembling. In the same moment, Mapi’s eyes rolled back in her head and her knees were crumpling, and Ingrid was lunging forward to catch her girlfriend’s unconscious body before she hit the tile floor. “Maria!” She cried, lowering Mapi’s limp form to the floor. She put her hands on each of Mapi’s cheeks and lightly tapped, trying desperately to wake her girlfriend up. She told herself, rationally, that Mapi was sick and this was a symptom. Still, she could feel panic gripping her heart-- she was holding her love’s body in her arms and she could feel her breathing speeding up. She couldn’t help but check Mapi’s pulse, which, or course, was strong. “Ale! Help me!” Ingrid called, and she instantly heard rapid footsteps from the next room. The footsteps stopped suddenly when they reached the doorway. 

Alexia sucked in a breath as she took in the sight in front of her. “What happened?” She asked, weakly.

Ingrid looked up at her with tear stained cheeks. “She- she said she wasn’t feeling well, and then she just fainted. She folded right in front of me.” 

This was not a huge deal, Alexia knew, it happened when you were sick. Still, it was scary. Especially for Ingrid. She shifted into captain mode, and put a hand on Ingrid’s back. “It’s ok. She’s fine. Did she hit anything when she collapsed?” 

“No.” Ingrid sniffed, speaking over a sob. “I caught her.” 

“Good, Ingrid. That’s good. You kept her safe. Let me take her to the couch. She’ll wake up in a minute.” 

Ingrid nodded frantically, and let Alexia scoop Mapi’s body into her arms. Even as she tried to be strong, Alexia needed to take a breath as she held her limp best friend to her chest. This was scary-- she had never seen Mapi cry, never seen her seriously ask for help. It was strange. So strange that Alexia suddenly felt a lump in her throat. She swallowed it, and carried Mapi through the house, gently laying her on the couch. Ingrid was kneeling by her in a second, taking her face in her hands again. She pressed a kiss to her forehead, and one to her cheek, and another to her chin. She raked her hands through her hair, but Mapi still did not wake. 

“Kjære, please wake up.” She whispered against Mapi’s kneck. “My love, realmente me estas asustando.” Alexia left the room, but was back a minute later with an armful of wet towels. She placed one on Mapi’s kneck and another on her forehead. 

A minute later, Mapi cracked her eyes open and looked at the faces above her. Ingrid let out a quiet sob, and cupped her face in her palms, peppering it with kisses. Alexia tilted her head back to look at the sky, and let out a sigh of relief. Mapi was still dazed, and it took her a moment to realize where she was. “What happened?” She croaked. 

“You fainted, amor.” Ingrid told her, trying to keep her voice steady. 

“Oh.” Mapi breathed, looking around her. She was overwhelmed and confused, and her gaze flickered from Ingrid’s tear streaked face to Alexia’s concerned eyes. She looked back at Ingrid, and reached a hand up to cup Ingrid’s cheek. “I’m sorry I scared you, Ing.” 

“It’s ok, love.” Ingrid told her shakily, taking her hand and kissing it. 

Mapi moved to sit up, but two hands instantly pushed her back down. “No way.” Alexia said sternly. “You’re staying right there.” 

“Ale-” Mapi started, but was cut off by the look Alexia gave her, which was pure captain. “You faint one time.” Mapi grumbled, and Alexia cracked a smile at the glimpse of her best friend’s personality returning. 

Their heads both turned, though as they heard Ingrid let out another small sob, tears once again streaming down her face. “I don’t think she’s ready to joke about it yet.” Alexia whispered, and Mapi nodded seriously back as Ingrid waved a hand infront of her face to try and stop the crying. “Oh, Kjære, come here.” Mapi said, opening her arms for Ingrid, who sank into the embrace. “I’m so sorry.” Ingrid let out a noise of protest. “I know that was scary, amor, but I’m ok. I’m alright now. Thank you for taking such good care of me.” Mapi whispered into Ingrid’s hair, stroking the back of her head. 

Alexia smiled at her best friend and her girlfriend. She knew she was in good hands. 

--- 

After Alexia had decided that Mapi had recovered enough to be upright, her and Ingrid began to move her to the dining room table. Once Mapi was on her feet, though, she saw spots and promptly sat back down. After that, she was banned from leaving the couch and force fed soup and fluids. 

After the sun set, Alexia bid them both goodbye. She pulled Ingrid into a tight, comforting hug that made Mapi feel more than a little guilty, before moving over to the couch. She gave Mapi an affectionate kiss on the forehead, and mumbled, “I’m glad you’re ok, my girl,” into her hair. 

--- 

That night, Mapi held Ingrid close to her chest, and Ingrid positioned herself so that she could hear Mapi’s heart beating.

 “Jeg elsker deg” Mapi mumbled, reaching down to poke Ingrid in the cheek. Ingrid chuckled at Mapi’s Norwegian awkwardly twisted with a thick Spanish accent. 

“Te amo,” She whispered back. “I hope you feel better tomorrow.” Ingrid dug her head further against Mapi’s chest, and let herself drift off in her girlfriend’s arms. 

A/N:

First fic!! please lmk what you like/ don't like. I'd be open to a part 2!

[luimagines]

You Give Him a Massage Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Part three will include Hyrule, Legend and Sky

Content under the cut!

Hyrule

It was a long day. One that everyone nearly collapsing over themselves at the end of it. You were thankful that there wasn’t a lot battle that you had to do but that didn’t make it any harder to keep awake at the end of the day.

The group finally settled down to break camp but you couldn’t muster up the energy to help them sat anything up.

Looking around, it looked to be the general consensus of the rest of the group. No was willing to do anything. Wild takes out a flaming sword and makes the camp fire by striking a bunch of wood and calls it good.

He makes kabobs and that your meal for the night. 

You’re tired enough to find that you don’t really care for the lack of everything.

You sit by a tree, watching everyone half hazzardly throw round their bed rolls and flop into them for the night. You plan on staying up a little bit longer. At least until it finally becomes the hour your normally sleep at. You don’t plan on tossing away your sleep schedule that way. It would take weeks to get it back on track if you did. 

Wild goes to bed. Wind was the first to fall asleep. Sky follows his example within minutes. Warrior and Time struggle to decide which one of them goes to bed first since someone still has to take the first watch. Legend offers to do it just so they both shut up but he’s ignored.

Hyrule throws his bed roll close to you and flops down just like the others. It’s a little funny how similar they all are even if they don’t to do it. It makes you giggle

Hyrule looks up at the sound with a cross face. “What?”

“Nothing. Good night, Link.”

His face softens and he scoots closer to you. He places his head on your lap, making himself comfortable. You snort. “Better?”

“Yes.” He grins.

With an affectionate roll of your eyes, you put your hand sin his hair, carding through his locks gently before you start massing his scalp. You can see the way the stress of the day melts off of his with every pass of your hand. “...That’s nice...”

“Good night, Link.” You repeat yourself. Distantly, you think that you’re also going to have to sleep soon and you’re going to have to figure out how to get the boy off of you without waking him up- but that’s a problem for future you.

You keep massaging his scalp, taking quiet wonder at how soft his hair is despite the lack of up keep.

Your subtle, minute motions lulls you into a deep calm as well. You think you see Four awake still, even though he’s lying down. Twilight is also up against a tree on the other side of the camp but he’s huddled into himself. That’s going to be a horrible position to wake up if he stays asleep like that. You don’t want the same thing to happen to you.

You can feel yourself nodding off despite yourself.

You have to move Hyrule. You have to lay down before you also fall asleep against the tree. How do you move Hyrule without waking him up in the process?

You fall asleep with Hyrule still in your lap.

Legend

Legend growls somewhere off to your right.

You look over to him curiously.

Legend’s been rubbing the side of his head for a while now. His face is twisted in pain and his hair has been mused up in the process. His cheeks are pink and his hat is about to half off of his head from everything he’s doing.

You frown. “Legend, are you ok?”

He hisses but looks to you. In an instant his gaze softens when his eyes land on you. He had looked borderline angry before, but you’re thankful to know that it has nothing to do with you. “...I have a headache... hurts...”

You’re heart hurts for him. “How bad it is?”

“Bad.” He says. “I feel like someone is trying to cave in my skull with a hammer.”

You open your mouth.

“Not that anyone’s tried to do that before.” Legend eyes you tiredly before you can speak.

You press your lips into a thin line. Now’s not the time for poorly judged jokes. “I can help.”

Legend gets almost a pleading look on his face. “Really?”

“I can try.” You amend. Walking towards him, you take off his hat and urge him to sit down nearby. “Just let me know if you want me to stop, ok?”

“...ok..” He says, clearly willing to do anything if it means relief from his headache.

You start by gently running your hands through his hair. It takes a minute or two but Legend’s shoulder eventually fall from their hunched position. From there you start to rub small circles into his scalp, now that you’ve cleared away more of the tangles from his hair.

You start small, a little worried about the pressure you’d put on his already sore head but with time you gradually get firmer. You try to keep the pressure slow and steady, going in circles around his head.

It doesn’t take too long before you seem to find the area that’s been bugging him the most and focus in on it.

A small sound leaves Legend and you pause. “All good?”

“Mm-hm.” He hums and slowly moves his head this way and that. A beat passes and you see his face contort again.

You take that as your queue to start up again since the pain had returned. “Have you had any water today, Vet?”

You didn’t think he heard you until he finally makes a noise of acknowledgment. “...I think...”

“Hm.” You’re not impressed. “I’m going to go get you something to drink and if this happened because you were dehydrated then I’m going to yell at you.”

“Please don’t.”

“I make no promises.”

Sky

“Ow.”

You ignored it the first time.

“Ow.”

You ignored it the second time.

“Ow.” He hissed for the third time.

You sighed and looked over. “Sky? What on earth are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” He bit his lip, trying to whittle a piece a wood into submission. You’re not entirely sure what it is he’s trying to make but he looks like he’s struggling with it. His hand makes a move and he hisses again. “Ow- by the three-!”

He drops the knife to his lap and cradles his hand. He seems to be pressing his thumb into the palm of his hand.

You move over to his side and take his hand. “You’re learning their figures of speech.”

“Completely on accident on assure you.” He growls, pouting as he watches your movements.

You bring his hand closer to you, tucking it close and slowly kneading into the palm of his hand. You can already see the problem. There’s a muscle out of place. Whether it’s twisted or stretched, you’re not sure. But it looks painful.

“How did you manage to do this?” You whisper to yourself, bordering on horrified.

Sky hears you anyway. “I’m not entirely sure. I just woke up this morning and it was like that. It doesn’t bother me too much, only when I move it a certain way.”

You grunt and keep up with kneading into his hand. Sky bites on his lip when you go particularly deep and squirms in his seat. You look up and tilt you head. “Hurt?”

“That time. Yes.” He keeps his hand limp in your hand at least, trying to not make it harder for you. “You don’t have to do this.”

“If someone doesn’t help you fix it, you’re going to make it worse.” You don’t leave room for argument. “What on earth are you thinking? Why would you be whittling? Clearly your hand needs to rest instead so that it can get better from whatever the hack happened to it.”

Sky at least has the decency to appear a little sheepish. “...I’m bored.”

“And dumb.” You flick his forehead.

“Hey now...”

“Hush.” You grin, not letting him defend himself. “It’s out of love and you know it.”

“Yes, I feel very loved right now.” Sky rolls his eyes, relaxing a little more as time goes by. Little by little, you’re moving the muscle in his hand back into place and it’s hurting him less and less. “...Thank you...”

You snort. “You’re very welcome.”

[nyxtickled]

sleep diary #1

you can absolutely ignore this series but i’ve decided to combine business and pleasure since i have no problem remembering to be horny on main but i have every problem remembering to record my flare ups and sleep problems so i can actually have an accurate measurement of my symptoms once i finally see a rheumatologist

ok so! i’m just going to see if i can remember to do my sleep diaries if i incorporate them into my kink blog lmfao. if you wanna filter them out just block my #nyx.sleep tag, OR if you’re chronically ill and you feel seen or curious about the shit i write, feel free to jump into the replies and scream with me!

sunday night - fell asleep around 3am? woke up around 11am. covered in sweat from head to toe. body pillow was soaked through and cold from sweat. tank top was cold and wet, sticking to me. waking up like this is not uncommon, probably 2-3x a week on average, so it’s probably not related to having a virus. the most notable thing from today was that the tip of my middle finger was completely numb. this is the same finger that has had a weird knuckle for a while now, looks like the tendon is slipping off the side- but the fingertip has never been numb before. took about 10 mins to get feeling back into it. also had excruciating neck pain on the same side (right), from neck to shoulder and back, strangely no pain really in my forearm or bicep but then pain again in my hand and knuckle.

pics of weird knuckle tendon thing, super swollen, no idea why. def wanna show the rheumatologist, doesn’t always look like this but looks like this a lot.

gf threw me into a hot shower because i woke up shivering and freezing, body temp highly dysregulated, just had to sit in the shower chair and literally melt in a sauna for like 20 minutes. immediately had to take tylenol after waking up as well for the neck and hand pain. also 20 mins post-shower, i still have a headache that feels stabby every time i cough, but that could just be related to the cold/flu thing i have. currently i’m just feeling very out of it, dizzy/lightheaded, exhausted, definitely feel more tired than i did before i slept for 8 hours. it is a defeating sensation but very common for me. probably contributes to depression.

[sickuma]

TULIPS (2) — a König fic.

❱ this 'might' be the last part but we'll see. Since I am working on a König fic on Wattpad :D also I cannot create c.ai bots at the moment since I have like, 4 hours of waiting time smh. this is unedited! errors might be seen please bear with me ! ➴ SYNOPSIS — After taking the hit for him, you wake up without memories of him, nor the incident. He tries desperately to retrieve your memories.

LATIBULE — (n.) a hiding place; a place of safety and comfort.

How did this happen,

How did our memories vanish before your very eyes?

Have I lost them forever?

Have I lost them with you?

Will you find it in you to fall in love with me the second time around?

“Do you remember these, hm? [name]?” He shows you the pictures, holding them out one by one. Each and every photograph you took together, he remembered dreading those but he would always be happy to see your smile each time he agreed,

“You would force me to take one specific picture, to show our future family! We have a lot by now we—we…” he paused, staring at you.

“We had a lot of memories.”

You looked back at him, feeling your headache ever so slightly crack you head while you looked and observed the pictures. Closely looking, trying to find a speck of remembrance, a sign that you remember. Instead you got nothing but the skull crushing headache.

The doctor had released you for a week now, after the dischargement you both had gone back to the base. You took time to get used to everything, since you have your complete memories except for when you’ve joined the KorTac factions,

In your mind, you still think you’re a trainee who volunteered for the military.

Memories after that are as visible as a blur. Not even a blur, they were just gone. It was a trauma response, the doctor says. You could still remember the look on König’s face as the doctor explains. He looked defeated, almost lost.

But ever since then, he hasn't given up.

He would visit your quarters, picking you up for meals at the mess hall, wishing you goodnight for whenever you’d sleep. He didn't miss a single night,

The soldiers had asked him why you were not sleeping in one room, they claimed you both fought really hard to be permitted to do that. König simply responded that you needed space as you are still trying to retrieve the memories he spoke of, you were grateful for that, he’s willing to distance himself,

Of course it pained him, without you beside him he cannot sleep properly.

But for your sake he pulled through, hugging the shirt you left in his quarters. Holding it close to his face every night, taking in your scent, missing the times when you’d be beside him at night, running your hand through his hair as he dozed off.

Right now you’re with him, outside of the base, away from the guns and military equipment. The captain had convinced you to try, to try to remember him. The captain made sure to let you know just how agonizing this is for König, telling you how much he cried and telling you that he’d never seen König act as such.

You felt terrible,

Because of your incapability to remember, he suffered. Yet when he faces you, he's always got this slight smile, always has a glint of adoration in those pretty green eyes of his.

You found yourself fond of it once again,

Again?

“This… I always force you to take these?”

He grinned, nodding eagerly. “Mhm, every month, without fail.” he spoke so proudly of it, you almost felt a sense of pride spring upon your forgetful heart. You nod in response, looking at the pictures once again,

“König?”

He looked back up at you, “hm?”

“I’m sorry.”

His smile fell and he dropped the pictures carefully on the table, sitting closer to you but far enough to not cause any discomfort. “For what, liebling?”

“For this,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. “For forgetting.”

“Dont—dont ever feel sorry alright?” he spoke, not being able to control the urge to hold your hands. And so he did, placing his hand on yours soothingly. “It's not your fault, never has and never will. You did that for me, and I’m just—just so happy you're here, and proud of you. So so proud, schatz, that you managed to survive that. You did so well,  my love.” he rubbed the back of your hand using his thumb, looking up at you with nothing but genuine eyes. “I love those memories,” he paused, “but not as much as I love you.”

“So there is no need for sorrys, liebling, we can retrieve your memories but if I lost you that day, there would be any possible way to get you back.” He spoke quietly yet you could hear him very clearly, it is then you realise just how much he loves you. This man is willing to set aside the way you've just forgotten every memory with him, and is glad to still have you here. His only fear was losing you,

Suddenly the headache is gone, replaced by the dawning realisation. “We’ll make new ones okay? New memories, just as we did before.”

Just how could you forget his eyes?

“If you’ll just let me, I know I'm not more than a stranger to you right now but if you'd just let me in your heart again, I'll surely—”

Just how could you ever forget the blossoming emotion of being in his arms?

How could you ever forget that voice of his which lovingly calls for you,

How could you have forgotten the plans to grow— 

“Tulips.” He looked at you with wide eyes. “What did you just—”

“The tulips, König.”

Tears stained his eyes as he sat unable to form a word. He looked at you and only you, letting the emotion surge through his body, letting himself cry for you once again. “We promised to plant the tulips.” Together,

Right König? Our tulips, Just like we promised. In our small house with leaf,

Of course I’ll remember.

[zelle-png]

wtf... persona 3 marching band AU???

Context under the cut because there's a LOT behind this...

Okay. Background.

Last month I had to fly across the country for marching band. We had a two day trip where we flew to the opposite side of the country on a 5 hour flight and then immediately had to perform and play for a football game. The very next morning we had to fly back home on another 5 hour flight. All in all. It was 46 hours. Call time was 3:30 am so I had to wake up at 2 am the day of. I could not sleep on the plane and due to Issues with the rooming situation, I elected to sleep curled up in a wooden chair. I did not sleep for more than 15 minutes at a time that night. I also could not sleep on the plane ride back. On the way back, I was so exhausted and sleep deprived, I was insanely nauseous and so, so dehydrated. I had a pounding headache that wouldn't go away and I kind of hated literally everything.

Do you guys know that specific genre of fanart where people draw their favorite characters working like shitty minimum wage jobs as a way of coping with their own shitty minimum wage jobs? Yeah. Same idea here. I came up with marching band headcanons for p3-5 characters and it was comforting to be quite honest. It also filled up the time on that flight. Now that the season is over, I'm getting like marching band withdrawal so I wanted to draw out some of these headcanons. I put way too much thought into these, but here are the headcanons for the p3 crew lmao:

Minato - Pit, Bass Guitar: I figured he wouldn't really be a big fan of marching but would still want to play music so pit seemed like a good fit. Bass guitar specifically was just based off of Vibes.

Kotone - Trumpet Section Leader: Maybe it's because she's the MC but idk, trumpet just seemed to fit and I felt like she'd be section leader on top of that.

Yukari - Piccolo: Okay. This one PAINED me because irl I hate the piccolo section at my school. They're so annoying and so impressively united in being consistently and confidently WRONG. But I have to admit, Yukari unfortunately has piccolo energy. She's still my fave idc.

Junpei - Trombone: He just had to be low brass, c'mon. He's definitely also the kind of guy to call himself a "boner."

Akihiko - Color Guard Section Leader: My first inclination was trumpet. However, I remembered a guy in color guard at my school who's very much a gym bro and takes guard WAY too seriously. Yeah. That made me assign Akihiko to color guard. Probably played trumpet in middle school though.

Mitsuru - Drum Major, formerly Alto Saxophone: She obviously had to be drum major, no question about it. Idk why really I decided on alto saxophone though, I just felt that she wouldn't be a brass player and sax fit the best outside of that.

Fuuka - Pit, Vibraphone: Same reasoning as Minato but I feel like she'd fw vibraphone specifically idk why. Lowkey this one is also vaguely based off the personality of someone in my school's marching band.

Aigis - Mellophone: I feel like she'd be a brass player but definitely not low brass and also not trumpet. Hence, the mellophone. It also did occur to me that maybe playing a reed instrument as a robot that like probably doesn't have salivary glands would be ummm, difficult to say the least.

Ken - Percussion: Okay so, he's not in high school so he would be in like concert band for middle school instead. He seems like he'd gravitate towards percussion but like he would actually take it seriously as opposed to the average middle school percussionist who just screws around in the back of the band room while the director talks to the wind section. If he were in high school, center snare.

Shinjiro - Baritone: Had to be low brass. I also considered sousaphone, but baritone I felt was a better choice. I feel like he probably only did band in middle school because Akihiko decided to do it and then Akihiko switched to guard in high school but Shinjiro just figured "I already play this fuckass euphonium, might as well march with the baritone."

Ryoji - Trumpet or Pit, Drum Set: I figured he would join whatever section the MC was in, hence the two different choices here.

Chidori - Clarinet: Just pretend she's also in high school. Umm anyways, definitely a woodwind player but piccolo/flute and sax just didn't fit. As someone who plays the clarinet, just trust me on this one.

Umm anyways, I might draw more of these for p4 and p5, but we'll see. I'm cringe, but I'm free <3