#but whenever i get anxious i need to put weight on my chest (idk? it helps ground me i think)

[kuroosdarling]

my new lil plushie has easily become my emotional support plushie and i’m v happy bout it lmao <3

[stylesann]

Rebuilding

Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Summary: Steve decides to go back to the 40’s and you hurt.

Warnings: idk? Angst but happy ending

A/N: I have no idea what this is but aaa I feel like it’s bad lol, I just always get in a very angsty and dramatic mood every time that I read a story about Steve leaving so I wanted to do my own twist? Idk, and it’s been yeaaaars since I don’t write anything and also I’m not a native English speaker so I apologise any mistakes. Comments are always welcome 💕 -> written in around 15/04/2021; ->posted 28/05/2021

Masterlist

You stare at the ocean and release all the air you were holding on your lungs. You still felt your body heavy but at least your tears had stoped. You’re fighting hard to keep your thoughts out of your head, to keep your mind calm like the scenario in front of you, an empty beach with the ocean waves rhythmically hitting the shore. The sky had a lot of clouds and it would probably rain soon, but you didn’t mind, it matched you mood.

You could say you were surprised but all you felt was disappointment, sadness and if you were being honest, you felt anger and jealousy. What Peggy had that you didn’t? I mean, you didn’t know the answer and you were sure if you had asked Steve he wouldn’t be able to give you one cause he had spent such a short amount of time with her that he couldn’t be able to actually know all of her. All her flaws, all the quirks. In the past you had thought he didn’t even loved her anymore and was just in love with an image, an illusion he had from his past. But for him to had left you for her you weren’t even sure of that anymore.

You also felt used, replaceable, like you were just kept there cause he couldn’t do better, cause he couldn’t be with her. And now that he could he just tossed you away. You knew Steve wasn’t that kind of guy, but thats how you felt. And no one could tell you how you should feel or deal with it.

So that’s what lead you here. It had all happened hours ago. You saw his old self in that bench and you just felt numb. Bucky tried to hold you, he said that Steve wanted to talk to you but you just left. You had that right didn’t you? You didn’t care about what he had to say, it was all bullshit. You didn’t care about his guilt, or how sorry he was. You didn’t even care to go back to the apartment you shared with him, because you knew if you had gone there you would be stared by a hundred pictures you had with him.

You just wanted to get away. So here you came. You look down to the wedding band on you finger and the engagement ring. You wore both together but it didn’t make sense to have them anymore. You didn’t want any memories from Steve on you so you take them out and feel their light weight on you palm. You knew this was it, it was your way of closure, of ending that part of you life. You take a deep breath and throw them at the sea. There’s no way of seeing them drown but just the thought that you didn’t have them anymore made you lighter.

You turn around, ready to go back to the car that brought you here but you see a familiar figure blocking the way. Bucky.

“How are you feeling, doll?” he says approaching you. You didn’t know how long he was standing there or what he had seen. You wonder if he could see how empty and drained you really were.

“In the moment I’m not feeling anything. I think I’m still mostly numb. But that’s probably for the best, right?” You try to give him a light answer knowing that he lost his best friend too. How could Steve have left him after fighting so long to have him back was beyond you. “Did you know? Did you know what he was gonna do?”

“I did” that was all it took for the tears to start falling from your eyes. Why had Steve told him and not you? You were his wife for gods sake didn’t you deserve at least this? Bucky reaches for you but you push him away.

“Why didn’t h-he tell me? Why did he d-do this?” you hiccup between the words, the tears falling harder than before.

“I think he just didn’t have the guts to. You know he loves you, Y/N-“

“Screw him! If he did, he wouldn’t have done this!” All the feelings you were trying to push down seem to come to surface and tighten their grip on your chest. “I can’t understand why you aren’t angry? Why aren’t you feeling betrayed?”

“He didn’t leave me alone Y/N, he asked us to take care of each other” he has a pleading look on his face while he says that, and you see that the difference between you and him is that he had some time to come to terms with his friends decision, he’s sad but keeping it to himself. He’s trying to be strong for everyone one else who didn’t know, for you mostly.

“I don’t care about what he asked. I’m not staying and I’m not doing what he would want me too. I’m always gonna be there for you Buck, not because he’s wants that but because I care about you. Whatever you need you can call, even if it’s just for a chat, but I’m not staying, i can’t. I am getting into that car and I’m gonna drive away as much as i can, and I’m only stopping when I feel like I’ve put miles between me and this” you say more calm than you were minutes before. You had a plan, it may not be the best one but that’s what you had for now. You didn’t want to be in the same place you lived with Steve, you didn’t want to see the same scenarios you saw with him, you wanted nothing from him. Maybe it was bitter of you, or maybe you didn’t have the best coping mechanism but you needed the distance.

Bucky’s expression seemed to sadden a bit but he understood, he knew this wasn’t easy for you. “I don’t want to change your mind about leaving, so I say the same, if you need anything you call Y/N, got it?” He says as he hugs you firmly.

“Got it” you say in whisper against his shoulder, his arms still around you delaying the last moments he’s gonna have with another friend. You hate to be doing this, he didn’t deserve it you knew it, but you also knew that he wouldn’t be willing to accompany you on your trip, and it was something that you needed to do alone. You were alone.

“You know he wouldn’t have done this if he didn’t know you you be able to rebuild your life, right? You’re a strong person” He uses the same tone of voice you had, he probably just didn’t want to trigger you into making your feelings rise again.

“Everyone has the ability to rebuild themselves, Buck. The fact that I’m strong shouldn’t make what he did alright. And I don’t feel much strong now... I just feel like I’m a shell. And even if I do find someone else, how am I going to let them in? How am I supposed to trust anyone with my heart, when the guy I gave all my heart before completely destroyed me?” A single tear fall from your eye, but you hold the rest back. “I’m going to be fine but I don’t even know what that mean anymore.” He just nods to this, and I know there’s nothing left to be said so I head to the car and take a deep breath holding the wheel. This is it.

I look at Bucky while I drive away, he’s still standing where I left him and I hope with everything on me that he will be fine too. Whatever that means.

****************************

The sun is harsh on your eyes slipping through the curtains open frames. You turn your head to the other side and you feel a heavy weight on your waist stopping you from moving further than that. You slowly open your eyes to see Franks figure with his arm on you and his head drowned on the pillow.

You turn again to look at the clock to see it marking 8:47 am. Mary would be up soon, so you slip from Frank taking extra care not to wake him up and head to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast.

“Y/N! Y/N! Can we have pancakes today?!” Mary breaks into the small kitchen excitedly jumping around. Today you and Frank would be taking her to her new math club and she couldn’t be more anxious about it.

“What is going on here” Franks rough morning voice appears on the room. He’s rubbing his eyes and seems to be sleeping still.

“We are making Mary her favourite pancakes for breakfast” you answer them as you get the ingredients on the counter. Mary hugs you and sits straight on the table waiting for you to prepare them.

It had been 6 years since the day you left New York and ended up traveling for a long time through the country only to end up here. Florida. It was hot all the time, you always felt warm but it was distant enough from your past and you felt better about it. You decided that you wanted to rent a small place near the beach and so you found a woman named Roberta, that rented a few houses that fulfilled your wish. You didn’t think twice before accepting her deal.

You weren’t carrying anything on you except for the few clothes that you had bought on your journey so the move was quite simple. And you weren’t expecting to fit in so well here but the fact that as soon as you were settled a little girl, who was maybe 7 at the time, had come to you with a lot of questions that honestly you couldn’t answer warmed you up to the place real fast.

The fact that Mary had managed to always meet up with you but you still had to meet Frank was beyond you. She talked a lot about him “Frank did this today”, “oh did you know Frank let me adopt another cat”, “the first cat Frank got us was Fred, he has only one eye”, and so on. You knew more about him that you probably would by talking to him in person, according to Mary herself. She said he was very closed but had a great heart, she even told you the story about him fighting in justice for her guard. It only made you think he was a great guy who would do anything to protect his niece, and you were sincerely excited to meet him, give the person a face.

However, as it appears that his schedule was always all over the place and you always waking around town and spending many hours on the beach didn’t help with your meeting. You didn’t understand at first too how Mary always found you around, but she explained that whenever she wasn’t studying and Frank was going out with his girlfriend Boni, she stayed with her friend Roberta, who quickly became a good acquaintance of yours.

Either way, Mary had been talking to you for weeks when you finally met Frank. You couldn’t believe your eyes and genuinely thought you were delusional. He looked just like Steve, but the moment he started speaking you could see the differences between the two and the helped you find your foot again.

In the beginning you were hesitant about spending time with Mary and Frank, who surprised Mary with the news that he had gotten a more stable job. According to him, he still fixed boats but for a company that payed well. You were happy for him but the memories his face brought still made you want distance.

During the four years you traveled around you had let him go, all of him. You had been trough all the grief stages and learnt how to do well with your own company, you didn’t need anyone else. But looking at his face had the effect of hitting you with a sad resigned feeling and you didn’t like it. But Mary always spoke so highly of her uncle that you knew keeping your distance from both because of memories wasn’t fair.

Frank, of course notice that you never iniciantes any conversation with him and he wondered if Mary had introduced the same woman she said was talkative and affectionated. He asked you about it and it wasn’t until you answered with sincerity that he understood. Since then he was more careful in your presence which you appreciated.

With time though, you warmed up to him, he was a good guy you never doubted that. You became close friends and when him and Boni broke up you helped him. It was a mutual break up but it’s never easy.

You friendship was going great until you notice him treating you differently than he would before and you realised he was slowly catching feelings for you. Obviously being romantically involved with him was the last thing you wanted but you couldn’t bring yourself to change the way things were going between you two and that’s what led you to this moment.

In a car, dropping Mary off to her math club, with Frank by your side and the promise that it would be okay. It had to. You took so long to let him in that now you didn’t want to let go, and you doubt Frank wanted anything but stay. Bucky said the same when he came to visit you and Frank. You look at him and you see him smile at you.

“You think he’s gonna be a mini genius?” He asks looking at the small bump on your belly.

“If he gets MY genes, obviously” I sass laughing.

“Ha, you know the genius genes it’s on my side of the family Mrs. Adler” he chuckles.

“On your dreams” you smile. It you be okay.

[tinyjeanmarco]

Helloooo 🥺🥺 idk if ur into writing hurt+comfort but I’m in such a big fat mood to cry rn and there’s not a lot Porco angst out here... I was thinking along the lines of modern au and ur already in a relationship but ur incredibly insecure about urself and the relationship, but Porco reassures u in the end that he really does love u and goes out of his way to prove it <3

(I realize u likely won’t get this done tonight and I’ll probs be in a better mood tomorrow BUT it’s still true there isn’t a lot of Porco angst out there!!)

Also if u don’t write angst pls ignore this!! Thank you 💖💖

teddy (a hurt/comfort fic)

hello my darling!! i hope that you’re in a better mood now and don’t want to cry anymore! （＞д＜） remember that it’s okay to cry and to take care of yourself. your body loves you and you should show it just as much love. i do really love hurt/comfort fics! they always make me feel so soft in the comfort part. 🥺 i’ll do my best to write this! i think porco can be a real comforting boyfie that just cares so much about you. ♡ also sorry this was so late after your request, love. (｡ ́︿ ̀｡) i listened to idontwannabeyouanymore by billie eilish, and emotional anorexic by svavar knutur while i wrote this so you kinda get the vibe i was feeling while writing!

wc: 1,818

modern!porco x gn!reader

warnings: some angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending, i swear.

he’s just busy, you thought as you exited the coffee shop. you clutched the cup in your hand tighter as you checked your phone for what must have been the twentieth time that hour.

you texted your boyfriend, asking if he wanted to do something that day, but alas, it’s been a few hours and no response. you knew he had classes, but they should be done by now, meaning he was just ignoring you at this point.

no, he’s busy. you reminded yourself. yet, you weren’t sure how much longer you could buy that thought. you couldn’t tell if that was true anymore, or if it was just a way to keep your bad thoughts at bay.

you debated texting him again, but were worried that you would annoy him. maybe that was the issue in the first place; he saw your text and wanted a break from you, thus making him ignore you. it had already been nine months since you started dating, maybe he was annoyed with you.

you picked up your pace as you walked back to your apartment, no longer wanting to be around people, in case you broke down in some way. you knew it wasn’t the best to be alone when you felt like this, your friends telling you that getting out and doing things would take your mind off your anxious thoughts.

you couldn’t seem to text anyone to tell them you felt trapped.

stepping inside your apartment, you locked the door behind you and toed off your shoes before making your way to the bedroom. you tossed your keys on a table as you walked by.

your mind just kept racing faster the more you were alone with the silence that was suffocating you. the best course of action was to take a nap, you decided. so, you changed, and put on one of porco’s hoodies that he gave you.

yet, when you settled under the covers, sleep wouldn’t find you. your insecurities picked you apart down to the bone. at this point, you had felt like you were being drowned. it was so hard to swim in the fog that was your head.

your brain had managed to convince you that porco was tired of you, and it was on its way to make you think he would break up with you. in the back of your head, you knew this was false, yet it kept persisting. it wouldn’t leave you alone.

instead of ruminating about things you didn’t want to, you thought maybe putting on one of your sad music playlists would help quiet the thoughts, which, in hindsight was an okay idea at most. it really only served to upset you even more.

you didn’t even notice tears were leaking from your eyes until you found your nose was beginning to clog. you wiped at your eyes, and just cried harder.

you were trying so hard to be okay, but your insecurities would not leave you alone. you hated it so much. you just wished they would leave you alone. tired,  you were so tired of always feeling like not enough.

normally, you would communicate to porco about how you were feeling because communication and telling the other how you feel in a relationship is rule number one. yet, you were so convinced he didn’t want anything to do with you at the moment, so you refrained.

the only option left was to just keep crying until sleep somehow made its way to you.

a few hours later is when you woke up, thanks to the constant buzzing of your phone. why couldn’t everyone just leave you alone?

sighing, you did your best to wipe the sleep from your eyes before you squinted at your phone screen to see who was calling.

your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. it was porco. what would he want? was he finally going to break it off? would he tell you that your texts got on his nerves so he needed space?

you decided you didn’t feel like answering it, not wanting to deal with whatever it is he had to tell you. you weren’t mad at him, you just didn’t want to be even more hurt than you were already. that means ignoring everything completely.

after the phone finally stopped ringing, you kept getting texts from him but you just put your phone on do not disturb and shut your eyes again.

you had fallen alseep again, but it didn’t last as long as earlier, because you happened to hear a soft knocking on your bedroom door. shooting up into a sitting position, you scanned your room for a nearby weapon. who the fuck was in your apartment?

the answer came when a gentle voice, which you didn’t want to hear, followed the knocks.

“baby? are you in there?” and ever so slowly, the door pushed open. your body felt like it was made of lead as he stepped into the room. you forgot you had given him the spare key.

“oh, were you asleep? i’m sorry if i woke you, sweetheart.” he made his way over to your bed and sat himself on the side of it.

“yeah, i was asleep. it’s fine though, i needed to wake up anyways.” you mumbled out. he nodded before speaking again.

“what’s got you down? and don’t tell me nothing because i know you only take naps when you’re upset or it’s exam week.” he reached a hand out to take yours, gently stroking the top of it with his thumb.

“are you tired of me?” you blurred out, not quite answering his question, but to porco, that was enough of an answer that he got what was going on.

“no, no, no, baby. why do you think that? talk to me, honey.” his other hand that was not in yours, reached up to gently cup your face, encouraging you to speak.

“i dunno, you had to be not answering my texts for a reason.” you sniffled, tears coming to your eyes again today. when would they just stop and let you be happy?

“i’m so sorry, baby. my phone died today after i got called in for an emergency shift at work, and i didn’t have a charger at work. i promise you, i’m not tired of you. i was thinking of you the whole time i was working. i’d rather be with you then at that dump.” he gave a small squeeze to your hand. you squeezed back.

you had felt a little of the weight lift off your heart at his words, but you had spent so long today just overthinking and assuming you were right. the sadness wasn’t going to go away immediately.

“i’m sorry i overthink so much and always make you deal with it.” he just tutted and crawled on the bed to plant himself right beside you, pulling you into his chest.

“don’t you dare apologize. you know i care about you and have no problem making you feel more comfortable.” you felt yourself melt at his words and sink into his embrace. with every word he spoke, the thoughts in your head got quieter and quieter.

you closed your eyes and just listened to his heartbeat for a second before saying anything else. one of his hands reached up to your face and wiped the last of the tears away.

“thank you, porco.” you sighed and snuggled in even closer.

“you don’t need to thank me, this is what i’m here for.” a kiss is pressed to the top of your head, and you feel him shift. “now, how about i run to get stuff to cook for you and we can spend the rest of the night in?”

“you don’t have to, pock. i’m okay with just ordering a pizza or something.” you turned to him and pressed a kiss onto his nose before connecting your lips together.

“but i wanna.” he mumbled into your lips, not wanting to break the kiss.

you eventually reluctantly agreed, and decided to hop in the shower to melt away the rest of the day’s stress as you waited for him to return. he promised it would only be fifteen minutes max that he’d be gone.

the hot water running down your back felt like heaven. you could feel the knots in your neck and shoulders just dissolve under the heat. you were okay, not like earlier when you were wrapped up in despair.

you still felt tired and a little numb from the thoughts that polluted your head that day, but at least you no longer felt the need to cry. now you just craved the touch and comfort of your boyfriend, whenever he returned.

as you were getting dressed after your shower, you heard porco call out that he had returned from his shopping adventure. pulling his hoodie back over your head, you shuffled out to where he was unloading the groceries he had purchased.

when he saw you, he hurried to grab something he set aside and made his way over to you.

he got you a giant, cuddly teddy bear and some of your favorite chocolate bars.

“what’s all this for?” you inquired.

“i got it for you, to help cheer you up and kind of apologize for being irresponsible.” he scratched the back of his neck, a light red dusting his cheeks.

“pock.. i don’t know what to say. you really didn’t have to do this.” you took the bear from his hands and hugged it close to you.

“but i really wanted to, and it’s to make up for you being sad. whenever i’m not around, you can just hug the bear and pretend it’s me.” he set the chocolate aside on the counter and went to pull you into a hug, effectively squishing the stuffed bear between your bodies.

“this bear will never live up to the expectations of cuddling with you, pock.” you let out a small chuckle.

“well, then i guess i’ll just have to be sure to cuddle you as much as i can.” he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“you won’t hear me complaining.” you leaned into him and pressed your lips together, craving his affection. “now, please cook for me, baby. i’m really hungry.”

you tried to give him the best puppy eyes you could muster. he laughed and gave you another quick kiss before pulling away and turning to the rest of the things he bought.

“of course, just make sure you sit there looking pretty and i’ll get right to it.” you finally felt a big grin form on your face, finally relaxed.

you hated that you could get so sad and insecure sometimes, but porco understood you, he didn’t judge you. you could always trust him to pick up the broken pieces when you didn’t feel okay.

[xenteaart]

You’re a Cat, Hargreeves

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Request 1: Hello, so Five has been through a LOT in just two weeks, so can I request something where the reader and him have a bit of intimacy but are not together yet. Then something happens that is just the last drop to him and he shows up to the reader with red and glossy eyes and collapses in her arms? She just holds him (because boy, he needs it) and after a while he manages to talk about things letting his feelings for her slip in the process. Then she can just calm him down and make him feel loved.

Request 2: Could I request a fanfic where Five has a terrible day at the Commission or in the Apocalypse and at bedtime the Reader comforts him, and he suddenly becomes the little spoon for the first time? Idk I think it would be cute to see him shy and secretly liking

!!! Note: Since these two requests have a common theme of Five being stressed as fuck and having a breakdown I’ve decided to combine them. Personally I imagine this scenario in my Commission AU, HOWEVER, I intentionally didn’t make it very specific in terms of the circumstances so you can headcanon whatever u like <3 also sorry its not the exact scenario from your requests but i hope you don’t mind me taking some creative liberty.

also both Five and Reader are in their 20s here coz otherwise i’m very uncomfortable

massive thanks to @wonders-of-the-multiverse​ for helping me out with wording the physicality of certain things <33333

GIF: @maxiemayfield​

You’ve seen Five in many different states.

You’ve seen him anxious and spiraling, you’ve seen him furious and borderline insane; depressed and distant, lost and confused. At this point, you genuinely thought you’d seen it all but, apparently, you were wrong.

“I am just so tired.” Five whispered almost inaudibly with a sigh so desperate that it made your stomach turn.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice small as you weren’t quite sure how to act yet.

He glanced at you, and you couldn’t help but notice his eyes glistening with salty wetness that was about to spill out and smear his frustration all over his cheeks.

You always loved Five’s eyes - his huge, almost puppy dog eyes that made you absolutely lose yourself in their depth. Whenever you looked into them, you saw wisdom, maturity, exhaustion and patience, dedication and passion, all at the same time. There was a whole other universe behind his blue orbs, and you admired it endlessly. Looking into his eyes right now, however, was nowhere near as exciting and pleasant. Instead, it felt like some strange and violent ache was gripping you at the very heart and squeezing it without mercy, and you winced at the sensation as worry and concern were uncontrollably blossoming inside your ribcage.

Five didn’t grant you with an answer, too busy trying to hold back his tears and clenching his teeth proudly as if there was any point at all.

You got up on your feet and approached Five slowly, careful not to freak him out as you were giving him the time to get used to your presence in his personal space. Normally, he wouldn’t mind yet you couldn’t tell if the same rules applied to scenarios like the one taking place.

“I’m here, yeah? It’s okay, you’re okay,” you kept repeating like a mantra as you pulled Five into your embrace.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck and you instantly felt your skin getting damp. In just a few seconds Five’s entire body relaxed into yours and he wrapped his arms around you tightly, finally letting go and allowing himself to have a proper cry. He hadn’t had one in years, and, by all means, he was entitled to this breakdown.

Most of the time, Five was the one protecting you - looking out for you and leading the both of you out of dangerous and potentially lethal situations. Not that it was a completely one-sided dynamic but it was true that you tended to rely on him quite a lot in times of crisis. Five was good in crisis, exceptional actually. He made decisions quickly and didn’t hesitate to do absolutely anything it took to achieve his goals, which, unfortunately, meant that he was often forced to make choices where humanity and ethics were no longer a top priority.

Despite all that, Five always seemed in control, and even when he wasn’t, you knew he’d get it back eventually. You had placed your trust in him at all times, and only now were you starting to realize that it must have felt like a huge weight of responsibility on his shoulders. Granted, he was objectively smarter and more capable due to his superpowers but he was still human.

Hearing Five’s hopeless and feverish sobbing was unnerving, and you could only imagine what was going on in his cluttered and clearly overloaded mind as he was bawling his eyes out with such raw and genuine fury. From the lack of a better idea you simply waited for Five to cry himself out, patiently holding him in your arms and whispering words of reassurance into the air, not so much out of hope he’d hear them and listen but more as a means of letting him feel you were still there.

“I’m so fucking tired,” Five finally uttered but his words rather quickly got drowned in his weeping. You still got the message, though.

“You deserve to rest, Five,” you replied, feeling your legs start to shake from the weight of Five’s entire body leaning on your form. As much as you wanted to stay like this for as long as he needed, you couldn’t exactly go against your evident physical disadvantage. Five was a heavy gentleman, after all.

“Hey, let’s move to the bed, yeah?” it was more of a statement than a question, so you stepped towards the bed suggestively, expecting him to follow you. To your relief, he didn’t resist and followed your lead right away, seemingly too exhausted to even think, let alone disobey.

Five’s body was limp from the absence of energy, all of which had presumably gone into crying, and he could barely manage to walk on his own, so you grabbed at his shoulders to steady him.

It felt like his physical self was now merely a vehicle with no pilot to steer it, and his mind was long lost someplace else.

As you sat Five down, you caressed his cheek with your thumb, wiping away the trails of his tears whilst also trying to gently break him out of the prison of his troubled and restless brain. To your disappointment, it failed to spark any sort of response.

Right in this moment, he looked almost defenseless. Sure, he wasn’t an incapable baby all of a sudden but he was relying on you, reversing your roles and putting all of his worries and pain on your shoulders, basically asking you to carry them for him because he simply couldn’t anymore.

“Fives. Fives? Look at me, please?” you called, trying to shift his attention to something on the outside because you knew it was the looking inside that pushed him to crumble.

“Focus on my voice, alright?” you tried to keep your tone as steady and stern as you possibly could because right now you were his only bridge back to reality.

You pressed your palms against Five’s shoulders and slowly climbed onto his lap, resting your weight atop of him completely and hoping the pressure of it would manage to snap him out of his almost delirious daze.

As your hand reached for Five’s, you placed it on your chest right where your heart was beating and said:

“Can you feel it? It means I’m alive, Fives. I’m a human and a consciousness just like you. And I'm never leaving your side, no matter the circumstances. You’re never going to be alone, I promise you.”

You took Five by his chin with your other hand and softly guided his gaze upwards to meet your own, noticing his red glossy eyes finally regaining some clarity. The very peak of Five’s episode had already passed, and, as he was coming down from it, he encircled your waist with his arm and let his head sink to your shoulder with his eyes closed shut.

Still sitting straddled across his lap, you brushed your fingers through his soft silky hair and began to massage his scalp in a calming manner, trying to release some of the tension and lull him further into peacefulness. As your fingers moved a little lower, you knew you’d hit the sweet spot because Five literally purred into your skin as soon as he felt your nails gently scratch at the nape of his neck.

“How many times did I say you’re a cat, Hargreeves,” you rolled your eyes at his reaction and couldn’t resist a wide smile as you buried your nose in his hair. Five hummed quietly, and it was the only response you were going to get from him, which, to be fair, was already a big improvement so you couldn't really complain.

“How about we get you into some comfier clothes, wash your face and then you can tell me all about what’s been on your mind, hm?” you proposed confidently, still holding Five close and practically enveloping him in your warmth.

Your every movement was saturated with such understanding and care that not for a split second did Five feel like his vulnerability was making him weak or unworthy. It was quite the opposite, and with each passing moment he was beginning to feel like you were only making him stronger.

He nodded at your suggestion approvingly but didn’t move an inch, and you took it as a hint that he needed a few more minutes of sitting in silence; the bridge of his nose pressed to your collarbone as he was still finding his way back into the present.

You didn’t mind at all.

[foxtophat]

another long one, coming in at 9k words because i am goddamn trash

HEY GUYS SORRY ABOUT THAT UGH today just didn’t go the way i wanted it to. you ever feel like that?  well anyway here is the 11th chapter!!! fun fact: hurk and sharky show up! second fun fact: i am 90% sure that it is not moonshine they’re peddling.  3rd fun fact: i don’t know if they know what an apple looks like any more

i don’t have much to say about this chapter, although i will say it involves casual drinking if you’re not into that.  i think i’m gonna go have a newcastle myself once i’m done writing this up... which i guess means now!

as usual my dudes, i want to thank you all for being so tolerant of my bullshit and so open to my dumbassery! it’s so nice to feel MOTIVATED to post for once, which might not come through when i get delayed like i have the last 2 chapters, but it’s true! i have so much trouble working on things without feedback, so you guys really have been awesome.

if you wanna contact me, my askbox is always open! as always, i appreciate any and all comments, kudos, likes, reblogs, casual links, private discord messages, idk whatever i don’t even use discord

below the cut is the full chapter for those of you who don’t wanna go off-site! thank you again for reading guys, and i will talk incessantly about this fic soon!!!

The next three days are marked by a surprising peace. Nick had suspected that once the cat got out about John, they would be fielding a flurry of calls, or maybe even some in-person confrontations, but so far they've been left completely alone. Maybe telling people on their way out of the county has something to do with that. Maybe they'll need to wait for Hurk and Sharky to come back and spread the news if Jerome's decided not to do it himself. Nick's not sure if that's even what he wants , but it feels like the inevitable next step. Eventually, if the community is going to come together, the cat's gonna have to get out of the bag.

John is just as nervous than before, although it only shows whenever they hear distant engines or a far-off gunshot. The night after the caravan, he and Jerome spend a full thirty minutes on the radio, but it only makes him more pensive and reserved. Nick wouldn't mind so much if Carmina weren't also acting bummed out — sure, she's just upset that she lost a friend before she could make one, but it still sucks to see his daughter acting as morose as John.

At least Kim's optimism hasn't been phased. She's been determined to look at the situation from every positive angle available, and none of Nick's uncertainty has put a hamper on it. She rallies them all for a second day-trip down to the river, hell-bent on cheering each and every one of them. It's a day of sunlight and clear water, and the fish are jumping like mad. It must be spawning season, or something, because the suckers are easy pickings.

The nice weather and the easy fishing both do wonders for Carmina's mood, which is becoming more and more fickle every day. Nick dozes in and out with a rod in hand, and although John spends most of the time staring at the water, he touches base with reality once in a while. Mostly just when Kim includes him in conversation, but it's still enough.

It's... nice. Nick doesn't know the last time he felt so relaxed. He doesn't think that memory exists anymore, lost to time like so many other positive thoughts, but he's enjoying the reminder to relax his shoulders and turn off his anxious brain for a few minutes. With the sunshine just as warm as ever and the water a bright, nearly unnatural blue, Nick figures all they need is an umbrella and some beach towels to drive the point home. Hell, at this point, they might as well claim this as their private waterfront.

Grace shows up after breakfast the next day, ready to take Carmina for some target practice at her range. She isn't strictly speaking to Nick yet, but she keeps it cordial, even friendly with Kim. Maybe Jerome talked with her, or maybe she came to accept the situation on her own, who knows. Either way, Grace ignores the sight of John out on the back porch and treats Carmina to a genuine smile when she comes downstairs, rifle in hand. Finally, three-quarters of the year later, the situation with Grace has finally returned to normal, taking one more weight off of Nick's shoulders.

She promises to have Carmina back before sundown. She also promises to leave her radio on, just in case. Nick knows what she means by just in case , but he can't say no to the added security.

Nick retreats out back, letting Kim have some time with Grace without the awkward tension of his presence. John pointedly refuses to look at him, sorting through a box of components as though he hasn't already picked it apart.

It isn't until after Grace and Carmina leave that Nick remembers he has an out — well, now it's just a regular chore. He's got to deal with the so-called freezer in the hangar, which is full of fish and sucking up all the fuel for the generator. Either he has to make it viable to use long term, or they're going to be shit out of luck for food preservation beyond salting and pickling.

From the look on his face, John wishes Nick would ask for his help, but Kim has already called on him to help harvest the last of the spring planter, so he's shit out of luck there. Nick doesn't have any damn sympathy for John — gardening is boring, and Nick will do anything to avoid it, especially something as easy as throwing John under a bus.

So, the good news is that the freezer still turns on. Nick hadn't expected much after finding it under part of the collapsed roof, but it hasn't shorted out once since they hooked it up to the generator about a week ago.

The bad news is that it's not a good use of power at all. The rubber seal is nearly worn off, so it keeps losing coolness, and there's definitely a coil burnt out or something in there because it barely manages to keep its temperature lower than the air around it. Sure, maybe it'll come in handy around winter , but that's not going to help them with summer around the corner.

As it is, Nick's only sure that the fish from yesterday are still good. There's a covered pot of stew underneath that they put in after the caravan left, which is probably fine, too... but Nick wouldn't put money on the rabbit they put in at the start. After all, it hadn't been all that fresh to begin with, and it's been wrapped in cloth for a little too long.

Well, maybe once they get some chickens and find a post-apocalyptic appliance repair center, it'll be worth being the energy sink that it is. For now, Nick has to figure out what to do with these goddamn fish and the leftover stew from the other night. It's their own damn fault, thinking they'd still have company after revealing John, but that doesn't change the amount of food they have on hand.

At least when Grace comes back, they'll have something to repay her with, although Nick isn't sure she's willing to eat any of their food yet. She'd been okay about seeing John in the backyard, relatively speaking, but there's no way she actually believes any of the progress being made. And as much as Nick would like to tell her that her distrust is unwarranted, he can't exactly tell her how to feel. It's just gonna have to take time, and she's going to need a different kind of proof than Nick.

They aren't expecting any visitors, so the sound of engines on approach shakes Nick out of his thoughts and puts him on immediate high alert. He can't make out the number of vehicles, but it sounds like a goddamn posse, which can't be good. When he goes out into the yard to check on Kim, he finds her missing; John is the only one standing there, waiting nervously by the planters and looking for any sign to bolt.

"Stay here," Nick tells him as he approaches, heading straight for the front.

"Yes, I know ," John snaps, but Nick isn't going to stop to argue with him. He slows his anxious jog as he comes around the side of the house, catching sight of Hurk's motorcycle through the trees coming down the drive. Kim is standing in the front yard, arms loosely folded over her chest; she looks cautiously excited for the company, although neither of them are sure if this is strictly a social call. Nick sure hopes it is — he's not sure they could hold their own against a group with an RPG and a whole lot of crazy.

Hurk kills his engine once he sees they've got an audience, leaving his bike with the others in the drive. The big, blissed-out guy and the smaller, wild-card one stay on their bikes, while Sharky talks to somebody sitting on his ATV briefly before following his cousin's tracks.

Kim greets them with a warm smile as they come up. "Hey, you guys. We weren't expecting you to stop by again."

"We radioed ahead," Sharky grouses. "But nobody answered."

"Sorry, I wasn't near the receiver. We've been out back all day."

Hurk pulls off his sunglasses with a dramatic flair. "Yeah, I figured it was something like that," he says, with a tone that implies Sharky had a different theory, one Nick imagines involves John staging some sort of coup. "Well, whatever, we're here now!" Looking around coolly for a second, Hurk realizes he still needs to explain himself and bashfully elaborates, " Somebody oughtta know we got back alright, so we can get hired out again and whatnot..."

"Everything cool?" Sharky asks. He makes no effort to hide how he's looking for a fire that he can blame on John. Well, at least he's trying to find a good reason to beat John up this time.

"I should be asking you that," Kim counters, wearing a smile that's enough to disarm Sharky's gruff posturing. "How far did you get?"

"We hit Great Falls before we figured any further was a one-way trip. They're probably past Missoula if they kept up the clip."

"And how'd everything look?" Nick asks. "I mean, relatively speaking."

Sharky shrugs. "A whole lot of the same," he replies. Hurk rolls his eyes in his cousin's direction, fixing him with an annoyed stare that eventually wears Sharky out. Shoulders slumping in defeat, he opens up semi-reluctantly. "It wasn't the, uh... wild wasteland I was expecting. Lots of empty land and road stops. Some friendly, some... uh, not so much. But that group can handle it."

Nick is happy to agree, and not just to placate Sharky. "Yeah," he says. "Hope County breeds tough people."

"Did you guys pick up somebody along the way?" Kim asks, having just done a headcount of the remaining posse. Nick remembers the two on their bikes; the new guy, he remembers from the third car, quiet and quick to leave but otherwise unmemorable.

"Oh, that's Mud," Sharky says, pointing at the three who probably can't hear much over the rumbling engines. "He was with the caravan, but he changed his mind." Sharky's chest puffs up as he confidently tells them, "He's ridin' with us now."

"That's great!" Kim exclaims. She's genuinely excited by the news and the chance to socialize, and the effect of her positivity is hard to fight. Sharky can't help but smile back, even if he's trying to act tough, rubbing his hands together as he casts another approving glance back at his gang.

"Are you going to do anything to celebrate?" she asks.

"Not much to celebrate, he's kind of a nerd."

"Come on," Kim laughs. "You left home and came back with more people than you started with. I think most people these days would count that as a win." She rubs her hands together, looking briefly at Nick and suggesting, "We could have a fish fry?"

"Hey, that's an idea," Nick replies. "We caught some bass yesterday and they're just gonna get composted if we don't do something with them."

"I dunno about that," Sharky says, cutting off Hurk just before he can excitedly agree.

Kim presses her hands together. "Come on, stay," she pleads with a smile. "At least let us feed you. When's the last time you had something more than jerky and booze?"

"Well..." Sharky trails off uncertainly.

"Kim's right," Nick cajoles. "We got plenty to spare."

"Grace is going to be back with Carmina in a few hours," Kim adds. "I'm sure she'd be glad to see you guys."

Sharky rubs his beard, looking back at their waiting posse. "Grace, huh?" he repeats. He trades a few unsubtle glances with Hurk before finally turning back to Kim and Nick. "Yeah, that should be okay. Except — ah, shit. We promised Wallace and Tiny we'd start doing things democratically now that we won't keep tying over everything. Hold on, gotta go confer with the boys."

They only spend a minute talking it over before the two motorcycles kill their engines, which is all the confirmation Nick needs to know they're hosting company. "I'll go tell John," he tells Kim under his breath. "Somebody should give him a heads up before Sharky punches him again."

Kim sends him off with a pat on his shoulder as he heads for the backyard. John is still waiting by the planters, although he's staring longingly for the safety of the hangar. Nick can't blame him — he's still sporting a dark and noticeable bruise from the last time Sharky socked him. Hopefully, seeing his lingering handiwork will satisfy Sharky, otherwise, John might wind up with a matching set.

"Sharky and Hurk are back," Nick says. John doesn't exactly relax, but knowing he doesn't have to prepare for another ugly reintroduction keeps him from bolting. "They're, uh, gonna stick around until Grace gets back."

"Then I probably shouldn't be around," John replies.

"What, you wanna go hide all night?" Nick rolls his eyes. "No, don't be a baby. Worst that'll happen is you'll get knocked down again." John doesn't look convinced, so Nick tries another route. "Come on, we went through all that just so you wouldn't have to hide out every time we have company. And people are gonna have to get used to you eventually — at least Sharky and Hurk already know you're alive." Finally, when none of that seems to work, he sighs and promises, "I'll make sure nobody decks you for no good reason, c'mon."

John finally relents, sighing and gesturing vaguely. "Fine," he says, "Whatever you say."

And, even though Kim isn't around to force him to it, John sits back down at the planter and resumes pulling carrots. It's probably entirely out of spite, but at least it keeps him busy while the posse of would-be raiders filters into the backyard. Nick stands awkwardly at first as Wallace and Tiny stare aggressively at John's back, but when Kim rounds out the group and nobody takes a shot at either of them, he forces himself to ease up on the suspicion. From here on out, Nick is going to try his damnedest to act like everything is absolutely normal. Well, as normal as it can be.

Kim has Sharky talking from the outset, which makes it easy for him to avoid acknowledging John at all. It helps that she's genuinely interested in what he's been up to since they last saw each other — other than open-channel conversations on the radio, the Ryes haven't seen them since the world ended. With only one car and not a lot of fuel, they haven't had a chance to go exploring the east side of the county since climbing topside.

As it turns out, Sharky and Hurk have shacked right back up at the old trailer park. They'd met up with Wallace and Tiny sometime after coming topside, and right now the four of them are in the middle of making the park more hospitable. Sharky keeps mentioning a reception area, and Hurk says something about expanding the lot, so Nick suspects they're looking to cash in on the heretofore abandoned hospitality industry.

For now, though, it's just home to four wildcards and one multi-use distillery made from old airplane parts. "It's pretty much fucked," Sharky says, although truthfully, Nick thinks it sounds kind of badass. "But with enough elbow grease, we'll probably be able to make it livable." He looks around, craning his neck to eyeball the mostly-intact hangar and their secure house, and offers a genuine compliment. "You guys got lucky. No hate, just glad you had somewhere to hole up in. It would suck to really have to rough it with a kid around."

"Tell me about it," Kim agrees emphatically. "Although, it took a lot of work to make it this nice, and there's still a lot more to do."

Sharky and Hurk settling in around the fire-pit is all the invitation their crew needs to make themselves more at home. It's no surprise that they pretend like John isn't there — nor is it a surprise that John returns the favor. It's a little tense and a lot awkward for Nick, but for now it's at least a peaceful holding pattern.

"It sorta sucked, seeing everything as trashed as it is here," Tiny says somewhat morosely. "I mean, at least we ain't alone, but..."

"Hope Valley got the best of it in general," Wallace says. "Right in the sweet-spot. Ideal Collapse."

"He means most everything else got blasted," Tiny clarifies, a sort of post-Bliss interpreter. "You can tell when you leave the county. Eases up after a couple of miles, but there's, like, a big old ring around us."

"No doubt, no doubt," Wallace agrees. "Protecting the good stuff."

"It's pretty fuckin' weird," Hurk says. "But I don't know nothin' about nu-clear thermodynamics and whatnot. Could be normal as the albino deer and shit."

"Uh, you think that the caravan's gonna be okay out there, if everything's just as wrecked?" Nick asks.

"Oh, sure," Hurk drawls. "There were all sortsa people makin' due out there, one way or another. They'll be fine ."

Sharky sighs, opens his mouth, then thinks better of whatever he was going to say and changes course. "They made it pretty clear they would be happier without help," he says. "Hope that works out for them. Me? I'm ride-or-die Hope County. At least 'til Hurk here goes international again. Then, uh, I guess I'm gonna be ride-or-die Miami."

"Hell yeah!" Hurk shouts. "Gonna get the business back in business, y'know what I mean? First stop: check in on mama and Xander. Second stop: top of the world, baby!"

The posse rallies around Hurk's promise with excited whoops. Nick doesn't know what Hurk's job was before the apocalypse, but considering the contraband he used to get his hands on, it's probably something that will only flourish here in the apocalypse.

"'Course, she's probably dead," Hurk adds somewhat morosely at the end, sort of ruining the whole vibe.

Sharky slaps his shoulder a few times out of sympathy. "Don't know 'til we go lookin'," he says, which manages to prop Hurk's mood back up for the time-being. "Anyway, we got a whole slew of islands and mountains and shit to explore once we get established. Spending the rest of my life riding around Montana sounds like a waste of a good apocalypse, if you ask me."

The new guy, Mud, looks more confused than Nick about these future plans. "So, what'd they offer you for joining up?" Nick asks him. "Ten-percent of Boshaw-Drubman LLC?"

Startled, Mud shakes his head frantically. "No way. Uh-uh." Bashfully, he says, "I just, uh... got cold feet. But I don't got much out here, not since the, uh..." He glances past Nick, definitely eyeballing John, then swallows and edges around the truth. "Well, um, Sharky let me ride back, on account of the — well, uh, I didn't wanna get left behind either direction. And since I don't got anything, I offered to join up." He frowns, "Except I don't have a bike, or gas for a bike, or a gun, or bullets for a gun..."

"I told you," Sharky scolds like a mother hen, "We'll figure that shit out later."

"It's smart to stay together," Kim says when Mud fails to pick back up again. "It's what we should all be doing. Does that mean you're staying with them at the trailer park?"

Mud nods, while Tiny goodnaturedly jokes, "Not that there's much left to stay at..."

Sharky is quick to defend their home, even if he doesn't sound super convinced by his own argument. "Hey, we just haven't had time to, y'know, clean and all! We've been busy, man, you know that! Gathering ammo, building the still, brewing ..."

"Would be nice to have a roof over our heads, that's all," Tiny laughs.

"Where do you want me to go, the roof store ?"

The argument is mostly playful, but Nick knows it's only a matter of time before that playful resentment becomes real. Hurk already looks bored by the ribbing, which tells Nick a lot about how long this joke has been running. Even John is paying attention, although Nick only catches an uncomfortable backward glance.

It's a contentious problem for the gang, for sure. But Nick doesn't have to reach far to come up with an easy solution, one that he figures will benefit everybody involved. After all, even considering their own needs, they've got more than enough spare scrap to spare, and Hurk and Sharky's goodwill comes with guns and alcohol, so...

"You know," he says, "John and I found a lot of scrap cleaning this place up. Maybe you can use what we can't."

Sharky opens his mouth to say something, probably pretty rude, but he catches himself before he gets that far. "Wouldn't want to put you out like that," he mutters.

"Hey, we're all in it together, right?" Gesturing towards John, who looks like he'd rather fade back into the dirt around him, Nick offers a sort-of compromise. "We've been trying to figure out what to do with the surplus. This seems like a better use than anything we came up with."

"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt," Sharky admits reluctantly.

Kim recognizes the need for some decisive action, and so she claps her hands together and takes the reins from her grateful husband. "Nick, you and John should take Hurk to look at what we've got. Then, all three of you can bring some wood back so we can get the fire started."

Sharky opens his mouth to object, but Hurk speaks up before he can. "Sounds good!" he exclaims, throwing himself to his feet with ease. Nick can't help but envy him — the guy's got twenty years on him, but Nick doesn't hear his knees popping randomly when he stands up.

"Y'all don't go startin' trouble," he warns his gang, waving Nick on. "Let's do it!"

John turns and heads immediately for the hangar door, disappearing inside without a backwards glance. Hurk lingers once they reach the door, casting a wide look around the empty wash of dirt leading out to the old landing strip before following John inside. He doesn't seem concerned in the slightest that John might be waiting to ambush him.

"Sorry about Sharky, by the way," Hurk says once the three of them are standing in the shade of the tarp overhead. "He's been real stressed is all, tryin' to act all fuckin' responsible and shit. John here making it after the deputy beefed it just hit hard, I guess."

Well, if that's the way Hurk's been referring to it, then no wonder Sharky's sensitive about it. "It's, uh. It's fine. We figured there'd be some... y'know. Reasonable resentment."

John does that thing where he pretends he can't hear he's being talked about, going straight to the log pile stacked against the back wall. Hurk doesn't seem to notice the silent treatment, turning to the organized junk spread out over the cracked concrete. From broken two-by-fours, bent fence-poles, chainlink scraps, and stacks of not-quite-moldy plywood, there's gotta be something here that can help fix up the trailer park. Nick makes sure to highlight the best scrap for Hurk's consideration, although he avoids mentioning their surplus of nails and stripped screws for now. No use showing his whole hand, right?

"Damn," Hurk says at last, looking around in mild astonishment. "Can we hire y'all to do this to our scrap?"

Nick laughs. "Yeah, like I wanna do all this again ."

"What about you?" Hurk asks John's back, ignoring the way he tenses at being directly addressed. "How do we rent you out?"

"You don't," John says, his tone briefly icing over as he turns, regarding them coolly over his armful of logs. He's more petulant than angry when he explains, "I don't owe you my life, so I don't owe you my labor."

"Fine, I'll just save you from a burning building or some shit," Hurk replies, as if he couldn't care less that it's John Seed he's bantering with. "I guess we gotta talk trading, now," he sighs reluctantly. "Man, I fuckin' hate this barter-system bullshit. You know, actually, I got a box full of bottle caps if you wanna..."

Nick waves away the extremely bad offer to invest in an unbacked currency. "Hey, don't worry about it," he says. Hurk frowns heavily at that, so Nick suggests a compromise. "Look, if you and Sharky wind up with your own microbrew, you owe me a case — and yes, I will take payment in installments. That sound fair?"

"If ?" Hurk replies. He lets out a big laugh. "Buddy, I got news for you."

Hurk, John and Nick each take an armful of wood back to the fire pit, where Kim seems to have everything under control. Sharky is less openly hostile when John reappears, anyway, which is a good sign. Mud and Tiny have apparently been given fire-starting duty, jumping to the task as soon as they drop off the wood. Sharky, a true pyromaniac, manages them from his seat by shouting directions at them as they stack the wood in the pit.

Before they can sit back down, Kim turns Nick and John back around for the fish. It's a one-person job, but John doesn't complain about being sent away.

"You okay?" Nick asks John when they reach the freezer.

"Yes," John replies automatically. Nick stares at him for a solid five seconds before he cracks with a frustrated sigh. "I'm just a little overwhelmed. That's reasonable, isn't it?"

"Sure," Nick agrees. He picks up the old bin they've been using to cart fish back from the river. "You can stick around here for a bit if you want. Take a breather."

John scoffs at the idea of taking a break, as per usual. "I thought the point was not to hide," he replies tersely. He reaches out to yank the cracked plastic container from Nick, a frustrated and instinctive reaction that he curbs at the last moment, fingers curling briefly into a fist as he forces himself not to just take things from Nick.

Taking pity on the dumb bastard, Nick pushes the bin into John's arms, flipping open the freezer door and staring down at the slimy, not-yet-smelly fish. "Well, if you need a break, just say you're gonna get more firewood." Nick shrugs. "Someone's gotta check on you eventually, but Kim knows the drill."

John doesn't respond as Nick loads up the bin, but Nick hopes he takes the out to heart. There's not a social obligation out there that Nick hasn't gotten out of by dedicating himself to some dumbass chore nobody else wants to do.

They return to find a roaring fire that is... hopefully under control. The mismatched seating has been pulled back to accommodate the fire's larger-than-average size, accompanied by a couple of chairs from inside to make up the difference. Sharky and Mud have disappeared, although they return just after Nick, each carrying a variety of bottles and jars of different sizes.

"Shit, I didn't think you brought the entire brewery with you!" Nick exclaims, not in the least bit upset by the development.

"Not until you clean all those up," Kim says before Nick can get ahead of himself. "You don't want to be handling a knife right after a shot of... whatever that is."

Nick groans, but she's right. As much as Nick would like to get drunk off his ass on torpedo juice, he has to get his priorities straight. Still — there's a lot more fish than Nick's willing to handle by himself, so he enlists a willing Wallace and Tiny to help out. He picks them mostly because they're openly carrying hunting knives, and because John is just plain bad at deboning fish. John stares at him resentfully, but since he hates handling food as much as he hates gardening, Nick's sure he'll get over it before dinner.

Nick doesn't have much control over the food once it's been cleaned, as Sharky and Hurk have some kind of bet going about who's the better cook and they don't need anybody else throwing their hat in. As far as Nick's concerned, their cooking tastes delicious but indistinguishable. Of course, Nick's waiting for his own dinner, so other than a few bites to try and judge the difference, he doesn't get to eat much of it.

Tiny and Wallace split and down an entire mason jar of mysterious dark liquor while they wait to eat. Nick wants to join them, but Kim's waiting until Carmina is home to start drinking and really, Nick should be doing the same. From the way John's watching distrustfully from the side, he's not likely to get into any moonshine himself.

Nick manages to hold out until after he's finished eating, but then Hurk offers him some moonshine directly and he can't say no. It would be in bad taste, right?

Oof. Turns out the moonshine is in bad taste, but that's what he should expect from something that's easily 120 proof. Nick takes one swig and immediately regrets it as it turns his chapped lips to fire and carries the heat all the way down the back of his throat. There's no taste or anything, just an intense, full-mouth burn and this lizard-brain instinct that everything is going to go horribly wrong if he drinks more of whatever that is.

"Jesus Christ !" he gasps. It's only Hurk's quick reflexes that keep the jar from crashing to the dirt, but Nick doubles down before Hurk can pry it out of his hands. Even as he struggles to form a sentence more complex than, " Poison ," he's got to go back for a second sip. As if somehow a second one would make things better — but of course it doesn't. At least, not to begin with; first, it's gotta turn his shredded lips inside out and throw his tear-ducts into overdrive better than an overripe onion.

"Well don't drink more of it," Kim huffs, way too late.

"Now be honest," Hurk asks, "Can you taste any apple?"

Nick pushes the jar back into Hurk's attentive hands, choking disbelievingly on the word, "Apple ," although now that he thinks about it... No, nope, no after-taste whatsoever. It does , however, warm him from the inside out, leaving him feeling a decent buzz for two conservative swigs.

"Whatever it is," Nick sighs at last, after a big swig of water, "It's great."

"You know," Kim says, "The sooner we put the stew on the fire, the sooner you can eat. Maybe then you could handle more than a couple of baby sips."

Nick clicks his tongue, taking some childish offense at his wife teasing him about his tolerance. At the same time, she's right — and Nick is getting hungry. There's still enough uncooked fish left for when Grace and Carmina get home, but if he wants them to have as much as everyone else, he'll have to settle for the three-day-old stew. At least Kim and John are stuck in the same boat as him.

Before he can get started on that, though, Grace surprises him by returning early with Carmina. Admittedly, it's still pretty late in the afternoon, but he hadn't expected her back so soon. She isn't surprised to find company, which is also a surprise, although she eyes the whole group somewhat distrustfully as she and Carmina round the side of the house. When she sees Hurk and Sharky drinking from their unsanitized brewing bottles, she finally relaxes, letting go of Carmina's shoulder so that she can join the not-necessarily child-safe group.

"Grace!" Sharky exclaims, leaping from his seat and almost grabbing her for a hug before remembering personal boundaries are a thing. "Holy shit, the world literally ended last I saw you!"

Grace returns Sharky's enthusiasm with her more subdued version of it, smiling fondly and following through the rest of the hug for him, the same way she'd grabbed onto Nick and Kim when they'd first come back topside. "Sharky, it's good to see you," she says, her voice deep with emotion.

"I radioed her while you were getting firewood," Kim mentions to Nick as Hurk takes his chance to get a hug from the usually reclusive sniper. "I thought she would appreciate a head's up. And, you know, it cheered Sharky up."

"Hey, good thinking."

Carmina approaches gleefully, carrying the rifle over her shoulder triumphantly. For a nine-year-old, she's pretty natural with the thing, which is a mixed blessing as far as Nick's concerned.

"Aunt Grace made moving targets!" she exclaims, excitement overriding her confusion momentarily until she looks at the group. "I didn't know we were having people over today..."

"It was a happy surprise," Kim tells her. "These are the guys who were helping that caravan heading west, remember?"

"Yeah," Carmina says. She looks immediately to John, who is way too busy staring tensely at Grace and Sharky's reunion to notice her.

"Don't worry," Nick says. "Everything's fine."

"Uh-huh," Carmina says, unconvinced. Thankfully, she doesn't seem too worried about another fight breaking out. That probably has something to do with her attention being focused in an entirely different direction. "Do we have pulleys? I wanna make a shooting range here! It's really easy!"

Nick's gut reaction is to say no, but Kim interrupts him. "Maybe while your dad is getting the stew, he can check," she offers, looking from Carmina to Nick significantly. "Then we can have some dinner and talk about it."

Although it looked like John hadn't been paying any attention before, he stands as soon as Kim mentions going to the hangar. "I remember seeing one," he says.

"You can help me look, then," Nick offers. "Maybe get some more firewood?"

"Yeah," John says absently. Nick barely steps into his line of sight, but that's all he needs, turning and making his way to the hanger down the same invisible path he was glued to before. Nick sighs, rolls his eyes at Kim entirely for show, and follows. Maybe once they get some food in him, John will stop being such a cagey bastard about the whole thing, and they'll be able to actually put things to rest with Grace and Sharky at last.

When the world ended, Nick had figured that meant the end of life as he knew it. In some ways, he'd been right — things will never be as easy, as safe, as peaceful as they used to be — but when his expectations had been wrong, they'd been completely off-base. He'd expected a nuclear wasteland, only to find a lush and thriving field. He'd expected roving gangs of murderers, and instead, he's only encountered desperate, decent people who would rather not waste the bullets. Hell, he'd expected to spend every day struggling to survive, and here he is, sitting in the backyard with a full belly and a shot of liquor to wind down. Sure, the gathering is a primitive knock-off of a barbeque, but Nick knows now that all they need is time and practice. Maybe someday, they'll even have a grill — burgers, corn on the cob, the whole works.

But hey. That's for the future, and right now, Nick isn't going to complain about some bad liquor, mediocre food and Hurk's stripped-down Slayer's cassette blaring from his beat-up stereo.

Carmina finally gets a chance to show off her skills to people other than her family, and so Hurk's boys take turns calling out targets for her to cap in an attempt to take her down a peg. Nick isn't sober enough to trust his daughter with a gun, but Kim hasn't gone back for another taste of "apple" moonshine yet, and Grace is sober as a rock, so they're more than capable of handling things. Mostly, they nix any particularly dangerous targets, keeping Carmina's shots focused out in the yard. Well, for the most part — neither of them can resist watching Carmina shoot the wind-vane still clinging to the roof, even if it means going right over everyone's heads.

It's all in good fun, of course. And, to their credit, not one of the guys even jokingly suggests taking aim at John as he sits apart from the group. It's a good thing, too — John looks uncomfortable at how good a shot Carmina is. Maybe Nick would be uncomfortable with it too, if he hadn't drunk a bottle-neck's worth of moonshine beforehand.

Nick doesn't have to drink a lot to feel downright tipsy, which is great. Back in the day, he used to like getting buzzed every so often, but he'd given up ever feeling safe enough to get inebriated as another lost memory from yesteryear. This... this is nice. And once the guns get put away, it'll be even nicer.

"I think you might be a better shot than Tipsy over here," Wallace tells Carmina, gesturing towards Tiny, who is indeed too tipsy to be a decent shot at all.

"Only one way to find out!" Tiny shouts, failing to move after his declaration.

"Maybe another time," Kim replies uncertainly. "When alcohol isn't involved?"

"Hey, Carmina," Hurk coos, pulling his battered gun into his lap, "This is a Kalashnikov, you ever shoot off one of these?"

"Ooh, no!"

Grace is much less diplomatic than Kim, cutting him off before he can feed Carmina's excitement any more. "Hurk!"

"What? Oh, uh... she's probably too young for an automatic, huh? What is she, nine? I got a Magnum in my saddlebag..."

It's not long after that they run out of targets, forcing an end to Carmina's demonstration of skill. Kim thankfully takes the gun so that nobody gets hurt, and Carmina spends the next twenty minutes peppering the crew with questions about their guns, their tattoos, their trip out with the caravan, and whether or not they have a moving target range like Grace does. Nick relaxes when he realizes that none of the guys are keen on giving a little girl another weapon, more interested in spinning drunken tall-tales that, truthfully, might be a little too PG for Carmina. At least Grace is listening in to fact-check any of their more problematic bullshit.

John isn't any less tense now that Carmina is disarmed, but Nick's not surprised. Sitting on the opposite side of the fire from everybody else, he might as well be hiding in plain sight. That goes against the entire point, but it's also his modus operandi these days. Normally, Nick would just ignore it, maybe even avoid John on purpose to show him how bad it feels, but tonight calls for a more direct approach.

"Need to get some firewood?" Nick asks him, coming to stand in his line of sight.

John squints up at him around the firelight. "No," he mutters, lying through his teeth before changing the subject. "Carmina has good aim."

"That's all Kim's genes. I'm more of a spray-and-pray kinda guy."

John doesn't quite hide his sarcasm, replying, "You don't say."

Nobody's offered John any liquor yet, he's pretty sure, so Nick holds the bottle out in an easily declined gesture. "Wanna try?" he asks, just in case he's being more subtle than he thinks. "Supposed to take like apples."

John gives the bottle an unimpressed once-over. "I don't think so," he decides, not sounding entirely sure about it. He adds defensively, "My tolerance is shot."

"If you say so," Nick replies, pulling the bottle back. "It's not like I'm gonna peer pressure you. This isn't high school. But, uh, try to relax. If anyone was gonna take a shot at you, they would've done it by now."

"Easy for you to say," John sighs.

It is easy for Nick to say, but he hopes John actually listens to him for once. He's not expecting miracles or anything, but if John's going to stick around, he's going to have to learn how to relax. Well — at least that's one learning curve that everybody is struggling with. Baby steps, right?

Nick leaves John alone for now; maybe he'll warm up into the idea of mending some metaphorical fences before everyone leaves, which would be ideal. For now, Nick goes back to the rest of the group, taking a few more sips as he listens to Carmina start to spin her own tall tales. Now that she's recognized the pattern in all of the stories the adults have been telling — larger-than-life enemies, intimidating names, lots of Foley work — she's attempting to match their vivid stories with a highly interpretive retelling about the turkey she saved her mom from a few months ago. The way she tells it, Nick would've expected the turkey she'd brought back to be at least the size of a car, but if Kim is playing into her part as a damsel in distress, Nick isn't going to ruin things by being the cynic realist.

They trade a few more stories. As they do, Kim takes a few extremely sour drinks of whatever the dark stuff is. She's been on hosting duty all day already, and Nick hasn't done much to help, getting tipsy right away with the rest of the guys like he had. But, with things starting to get late for a family of three, Nick decides it's his time to step up to the task of parenting.

Carmina hasn't had enough life experience to have many stories to share with the encouraging group of drunken manchildren, so once the attention turns to Tiny's story of his first swim after the world ended, Nick uses the out as a chance to usher her away.

"I think we oughta get you ready for bed," he tells Carmina, who boos under her breath but doesn't put up a fight, mostly because the story involves lots of nudity that she isn't at all interested in hearing about. Nick can't blame her — he doesn't wanna hear about Tiny almost getting his nuts bit off by a demon fish, either.

"Okay, but I want a good bed-time story," she demands, reasonably enough. Nick doesn't have anything as funny as Hurk's story, or anything as action-packed as Sharky's retelling of the first roadblock they encountered out on the road, but he has to at least try.

The good thing about Carmina not knowing anything about life before is that Nick can stretch some truths without repercussion. So when he tucks Carmina in, he decides to tell her the story of when she was born — this time, though, he doesn't leave out the roadblocks, or the deputy's shitty driving, or the narrowly-missed explosions. Couched in a long line of tall tales and exaggerated stories, Carmina doesn't believe most of the true stuff and only playfully believes in the bullshit.

Between Nick's bedtime-story voice and him gently stroking her hair, it's a wonder Carmina stays awake for as long as she does. Eventually, though, well before he finishes the story, she closes her eyes and finally stops resisting the chance for a good night's sleep. Nick stays put, lying next to her for a few minutes as he listens to the faint sound of conversation outside. He tries to make out the voices, to decipher who might be talking to who, but he only hears a dull hum.

He'll get up in a few minutes, go down and have a real drink with his wife for the first time in nine years, but the alcohol he's already had entices him to lie still just a little longer.

He doesn't know how long he dozes for, but when Nick is next aware of his surroundings, the light has changed in the room from the rising moon and the conversation outside has shifted in tone and pitch, the way any party might as it enters the late-night phase. Sitting up, Nick immediately knows he needs two things — more water, and one or two more swigs of that awful moonshine, just to keep the hangover from starting before he actually goes to bed.

The back porch is still wide open. The fire has died down, although it's still enough light to see by as Nick reappears. Kim sees him immediately, lifting a half-empty jar of dark liquid in his direction and waving him down with her free hand.

"This one is much better," she tells him as he approaches, holding out the jar. Well, Nick isn't about to reject his wife's kind offer, although he immediately regrets it when he takes a swig.

" Ugh ," he chokes around the harsh burn, feeling it drain all the way back into his throat. "That tastes like paint thinner!"

"Trade secret!" Hurk exclaims, adding immediately after, "Not that there's any paint or thinner in there, or anythin'. Nope. It's 100% organic malt liquor!"

Nick has no idea how Hurk would manage to find barley, but sure, he'll buy it. Another sip doesn't do any better, and to his surprise, he realizes that he actually prefers the moonshine.

As he hands the jar back, Nick does a quick head-count, coming up two short. "Uh, where's John?" he asks.

"Oh," Kim says. She points towards the hangar. "We needed firewood," she says. "Except, eventually, we really needed firewood. I sent Sharky to get some." It seems like only when she says it does she realize what a bad idea it is. "Well, we were in the middle of something, and I was distracted," she explains reluctantly.

"I wasn't," Grace utters next to her.

Kim rolls her eyes. "You should go check on them. I mean, it's fine. But maybe you should, anyway."

Nick looks over at the hangar. There aren't any lights to speak of out here, but Nick can see the glow of the lantern through the open doorway, shadows moving around behind the worn-out wall. "Yeah," he agrees, turning and heading across the wash. He only thinks of grabbing a drink for the journey after he starts walking, but he's already halfway there and he doesn't have time to turn around and come back.

Sharky appears in the doorway, forcing Nick to pull up short to avoid running into him. He looks — fine? There's too much beard and too little light to see his expression clearly, but Sharky doesn't seem phased in the least to find Nick in his way. He passes by Nick with a few logs under one arm, patting Nick heavily on his shoulder with his free hand.

"It's cool, bro," he says, "We're all good."

"Uh... okay," Nick replies, deeply unsure as Sharky casually heads back for the fire. Briefly worrying that he might find John knocked out on the ground, Nick tries not to stress out as he heads inside.

John is sitting on a discarded chopping block by the woodpile, the lantern settled by his feet. Nick doesn't see any blood or a new black eye; just John, rolling a nearly-empty glass bottle between his palms as he drifts in thought.

Nick almost feels bad interrupting, but John catches sight of him before he can retreat undetected. He looks surprised — genuinely, openly surprised to see Nick standing there, sincerely confused when he says, "I thought you went to bed."

"And miss out on all the action?" Nick chuckles. He gestures at the bottle. "So much for your tolerance being shot, huh?" he teases.

"Oh, hmm?" John looks down at the bottle like he'd forgotten about it. "Only enough to get them off my back." He sighs, following it up with a swig that he barely winces through. "After all, saying no ain't my thing ." Nick isn't sure if that drawl is for sarcastic quotation purposes, or if John's had enough moonshine to play at being white trash. "Then again, I only quit drinking because of Joseph. No point resisting now."

"I guess," Nick agrees reluctantly. "Is that, uh, what you and Sharky were talking about?"

John rolls his eyes. "No," he says. He holds out the bottle, waiting until Nick takes it to elaborate. "Kim suggested they sleep out here tonight. He was making sure there's room."

"Oh." Nick takes a drink; maybe it's just the malt liquor talking, but now Nick can sort of taste the apple around the burn. He takes one more swig, just to make sure, then hands the bottle back. "Well, as long as he wasn't hassling you."

"No more than I deserve," John says. Nick must make some kind of face, because he sighs and placating adds, "It's fine, Nick. I'm more than capable of handling a few sarcastic comments from some hillbilly outlaw." He looks down, tipping the bottle a bit to swirl the moonshine inside.

"He... means well," he says eventually. "Everyone means well."

"You don't have to sound so bummed out about it."

John chuckles. It's the first time Nick's heard his laugh and not mistaken it for a cough or wheeze. "I don't mean to be," he says. He takes a drink and looks up at Nick with a... weird look on his face. Open. Genuine? Nick's not sure. But despite the topic, John's expression radiates a deep, contemplative peace. "It's more generosity than I can bear from people I genuinely thought of as the enemy."

He is definitely drunk. "Oh, boy," Nick sighs, reaching out for the bottle before John drops it or finishes it off himself. "To be fair, uh, it's easier to be nice to you since we won, and all."

"Oh, I do not doubt it." John relinquishes the drink, seemingly aware enough to admit, "I've had more than enough."

"I think everybody's had enough," Nick says, proving his own point by immediately regretting his next swig. "God damn . Okay, well — we should probably get some wood. I gotta feeling those guys are gonna be up for a while, and we wanna keep them happy."

John nods, but he doesn't rise from his spot. "Wait," he says when Nick goes to pass him, so Nick obligingly stops, raising an eyebrow at John's half-lifted hand.

"You have to understand," he says. "I'm not — I don't know how I'm supposed to express my gratitude towards you. With Joseph, with — well, everyone , I've always known how to express my loyalty. I knew what they expected from me, what would make them happy, what... wouldn't. But with you, with Kim... I don't know anything. I feel like a child. I don't know how that makes me feel, other than like an idiot."

He heaves a frustrated, heavy sigh, ducking his head towards his nervously entwined hands. "Just — thank you," he finishes miserably.

"Wow," Nick utters in response. He doesn't know what else to say, really, except the obvious, but he genuinely means it when he replies, "Well, you're welcome. Man, and here I always figured you were playing me for a sap."

John laughs, shaking his head. "Manipulation has never been my strong suit," he admits. "I'm too heavy-handed for that crap. Intimidation and brute force, on the other hand..." He lets out a relieved sigh. "Thank God I was too sick to revel in my self-destruction."

"Yeah, I'm glad I didn't have to shoot you," Nick chuckles. "Sorta would've gone against everything I'm trying to build, you know?"

"I do now," John says. "I only wish I'd realized it before the end of the world."

"Hey, the world hasn't really ended," Nick points out. "There's still a whole left to do." He gestures towards the woodpile. "We can start by making sure Kim doesn't leave me for the raiders giving her free alcohol."

John stands, shaking his head as if he could clear the smile from his face. "I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

"Yeah, not until they figure out how to brew a decent beer. Kim was going without for the baby. She probably would've murdered me if it meant she could've had a case of Newcastle in the bunker for a few months there."

Then again, she had also been freaking out about the nuclear apocalypse occurring above-ground, so Nick really should cut her more slack.

"You definitely have nothing to worry about," John reiterates. "But fine. No more back-talk."

"Yeah, fat chance of that. C'mon, give me a hand."

Nick leaves the bottle on the chopping block and utilizes John's uncanny strength, loading him up with an armful of wood before taking a few logs for himself, to give the appearance of helping. John doesn't complain, which isn't unusual by itself, but tonight it feels like genuine complacency, not just something he's doing to survive. And when they return to the fire, dropping off the wood for Mud and Tiny to utilize, John doesn't retreat to the safety of the other side of the fire. He instead lingers by Nick, going so far as to play along whenever Kim asks him questions, just to make him feel included. He, unlike Nick, is smart enough to refuse any more of the malt liquor Kim's taken a liking to, but he holds the jar for show from time to time, just to keep Hurk happy. In a weird way, Nick feels like he can actually see John taking those wobbly steps Kim is always hoping to see, and even weirder than that, the anxiety that maybe he's making a mistake fails to manifest, leaving Nick with a warm, fuzzy feeling that could very well be pride.

[the-fire-breathing-turtle]

Rant time feel free to ignore me~

so basic me info so anyone reading this is on the same page: I have ptsd caused by medical trauma. I have bad insomnia. I’m depressed as fuck (have an appointment tomorrow to discuss med changes again yay 🙃) and anxious as fuck.

Now for the rant. For the last 2 weeks I’ve felt nauseous, dizzy, exhausted, pain in my chest, pressure in my chest, and general shortness of breath. Understandably (as far as I’m concerned) this makes me nervous. My dad is essential so he’s out working (Plus my parents don’t understand the concept of staying home but whatever). I’ve voiced my concern to my mom multiple times and she says it’s cause I’m sleeping to much or I’m hungry. Yeah I sleep like 2-4 hours a night if I’m lucky. I do most of that sleeping from 10 in the morning till 3 in the after noon. She’s seriously making me doubt my own body. I feel like I’m going crazy. Like is this just was breathing normally feels like and I’m just panicking??? Does my chest actually feel fine and I’m just faking it??? It’s fucking with me a lot. On top of that I emailed my doctor about my symptoms as they fit the “your not allowed into the office” policy going on right now. His response was “it’s probably just mental health but I guess we’ll check to be sure”. I swear I need a new doctor. This man is the epitome of “maybe of you lost weight” kinda doctor. Like doesn’t consider anything else. I’m supprised he blaimed mental health and not my weight honestly. Like my last appointment we did a mandatory depression index and I scored really high (no shit) and he was like so shocked. Dude I’ve been telling you this for years. I then mentioned that he hadn’t put me on a new migraine med yet as the last one didn’t work. He shrugged it off and said well deal with that later. I had a feeling he wasn’t listening again so I reminded him that I have multiple “optical migraines” a day. Wanna know what he fucking said??? “Wait what?” FUCKIN REALLY like I’ve mentioned this before. I have had no testing done about this. Something I would really like considering I don’t think it’s normal to see stars are get tunnel vision multiple times a day, frequently when I’m just sitting there. Migraines run in the family so no testing needed. The fact that I’m the only one who has optical migraines isn’t important right? I feel like I literally don’t even know my own body anymore. Do I have a headache right now? Idk I think so but maybe not who knows anymore since I’m apparently wrong a lot. Idk I just hate that no one seems to listen to me. I’m treated like a toddler throwing a fit whenever I say something wrong. I just want to be heard for once in my goddamn life.

[yourfaceislikeabluemoon]

Side by Side

Words: 1602

Warning: Mention of alcohol and anxiety, a few cuss words, I think that’s all

A/N: Is this angst? Can it be considered angst? Is this crappy? It’s probably crappy right? Idk, whatever. This just randomly came to me and I got it all down pretty fast for some reason. I checked it over so there shouldn’t be any mistakes grammar/spelling-wise. But if you find something, please let me know. OK, I hope you like it, bye!

~~~~~

Amber rays peeked in through the sheer curtains draped softly over your bedroom window, a slight morning breeze rustling the thin fabric in waves of material. Cool air was tickling your back and you turned over to find the other side of the bed missing your usual companion. Touching the empty space, you found that it was no longer warm, meaning Yugyeom had woken up long before you.You were surprised that he had left the bed considering how he always stayed until you woke up, no matter how long it took, playing with your hair or stroking your arm or whispering stories to you as the morning sun gradually illuminated your shared bedroom and pulled you out of your dreams.

Humming to yourself, you stretched and got out of bed, heading towards the kitchen in hopes of finding Yugyeom making you a surprise breakfast or something. Or maybe not given his bad reputation for basically setting the kitchen on fire just by searching for a pan. You chuckled to yourself, slightly relieved when you didn’t find him destroying the kitchen. Wandering the house in search of your boyfriend, you were puzzled when you couldn’t find him anywhere. Worried, you grabbed your phone to shoot him a text to make sure everything was alright.

You: Baby, you weren’t in bed when I woke up. That isn’t like you! Is everything OK? Where are you?

Instead of his normal, cute, flirty texting style, you got an abrupt one word answer.

My Heart: Gym.

You frowned at your phone and decided to get dressed and go see what was wrong. Throwing on a hoodie, you shoved your phone in one pocket and your house key in the other and headed to your apartment complex’s gym in search of Yugyeom. You found him lifting weights, a horribly stern look on his face, completely focused on what he was doing, not even glancing up when you walked in. The room was devoid of other tenants so it was ghostly quiet, save Yugyeom’s slightly labored breathing.

“Babe?” you called from a short distance away. No response. Maybe he had his earbuds in? You got closer and called out again. “Yuggy, what’s going on?” You gently placed a hand on his shoulder but he immediately shrugged it off, still not looking at you, still silent. “Hey, did I do something wrong? Why are you acting like this?” you prodded, hurt that he wouldn’t talk to you about whatever was on his mind.

“It’s fine.” His voice sounded cold, bereft of emotion.

“What’s fine? That answer doesn’t even make sense. Seriously, Yugyeom, what’s going on?” You were gradually getting more and more worried the longer the silence between his responses dragged on.

He sighed deeply and put the weight he had been holding back onto the rack, once again refusing to look at you. “I should be asking you that question.”

Knitting your brows together, you tilted your head in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Yugyeom’s hands balled up into fists at his side, his whole body visibly tense, “What’s going on with you? What’s going on with you and Jackson?” He whipped around to face you, indignation and distress written all over his face. You could see angry tears pricking at his eyes. He sensed that you noticed that he was about to cry and quickly turned his head and averted his gaze.

“Me and Jackson? What are you talking about?” You were thoroughly baffled, wondering what could have possibly made him think something was going on between the two of you.

He scoffed, “Don’t act all innocent! You know damn well what I’m talking about!”

You shook your head, “No, baby, I don’t.”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me! When we were out with the guys last night, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him!” The fluorescent light caught on the tracks Yugyeom’s tears left on his face, still desperate to avoid eye contact.

You stayed silent, thinking back to the night before. Everyone had a few drinks, most everyone got at least a little tipsy, Jackson told a lot of funny stories in his alcohol-influenced state, Bambam acted like a complete fool as usual, Jinyoung was trying to keep everyone under control, and poor Jaebeom just wanted to go home. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in your mind. Even Youngjae and Mark acted as normal as they always do when alcohol is involved. You searched your memory for something, anything that would have triggered Yugyeom to think something was going on between you and Jackson, or any of the boys for that matter.

Yugyeom huffed, breaking the silence you had let fall over the room once again, “See, you’re not answering because you know it’s true and you just don’t want to tell me what’s going on between you two.”

Shaking your head again, you stepped a little closer, leaving your hands at your side instead of crossing them in an effort to show your boyfriend you weren’t hiding anything from him. “No, I wasn’t answering because I was remembering last night and trying to figure out whatever it was that made you think there’s something between Jackson and I other than a perfectly normal friendship. And from what I can remember, nothing seemed different from any other night we’ve spent drinking together.”

He let out a shaky breath, resolve starting to crumble, “It’s the way you look at him, the way you talk about him, how much you love him…” he trailed off into a whisper. Yugyeom swallowed thickly before shaking his head, “And don’t try to deny shit. I know you love him.”

You smiled weakly, realizing that it was just Yugyeom’s anxiety and insecurity talking, causing him to see things that weren’t really there. Or at least causing him to take what he saw and twist the situation negatively. “I never said I didn’t love him. We’ve known each other our whole lives, we grew up a few houses apart, he’s always been my best friend. I do love him. Very much. But not in the way that you think.” He looked at you hesitantly as you stepped closer, “I don’t love him like I love you.”

Yugyeom sighed again, seemingly about to back away or run out of the room, “But…”

You closed the distance between the two of you and placed your hand on his arm, squeezing gently, “You know he’s like my brother and I love him in that way. You know that you’re the one I’m in love with and that I love you with everything I have. And I know that this is just your anxiety rearing its head again and there are times when I have to remind you that everything is alright and everything is going to be alright. I’m sorry that I don’t do that enough in day to day life. But I want you to know that I would go to the ends of the earth for you and I’d give anything to live out all my days with you by my side. I’d want Jackson by my side too, but as my friend to laugh with, to complain to, to have fun with, to be just be my friend. But you. I want you by my side when I wake up in the morning and when I fall asleep at night; to dry the dishes while I wash them; to bury my face into your side when we watch scary movies; to hold your hand or kiss you whenever I feel like it; to grow old together, side by side, and everything in between. I want you, Yugyeom. Only you.”

You reached up to wipe away the tears from his eyes as he let out something between a laugh and a sob and smiled softly at you, “Well, how am I supposed to respond to that? I’m sorry that I get so anxious like this. I just love you too much and I always feel like I’m not good enough for you. I don’t deserve you.”

Taking his face in both of your hands, you looked him in the eye pointedly, “Don’t ever apologize for something you can’t help. It’s not your fault so you have no reason to apologize. And I know you love me too much and that’s OK because I love you too much, too. You’re exactly the way you’re supposed to be and I don’t want you any other way than yourself. I love you, you hear me? God, now you got me crying too!”

Yugyeom laughed again and took you into his arms, hugging you tightly and whispering into your hair how much he loved you. You chuckled into his chest when you realized you were, thankfully, still alone. “Good thing no one else besides you decided to work out right now, huh?”

He nodded and smiled widely, “Pretty awkward workout music, me crying and you professing your love and all.”

You shoved his arms off and took his hand in yours, tugging him towards the door, still giggling quietly, “Not really motivational as far as workouts are concerned. C’mon, I’m hungry. Let’s go get breakfast.” Yugyeom started to say something but you cut him off, “And no, you are not cooking breakfast. I really don’t want a burnt kitchen.” He chuckled again and muttered a small apology as you shook your head, “And you and your sweaty ass need a shower before we go out.” He feigned hurt and surprise, shoving you softly before laughing along with you as you both made your way back to your apartment.

[chalantness]

Hi! I’m the anon with the romanogers one night stand au (idk if my message got lost the first time around so sorry if you’ve already gotten this) also sorry for not providing the kinks haha but I think 25, 32, 107 would make for some great drunk sex ;) and I was thinking an au where the avengers doesn’t happen and nat and steve are paired up for a mission it would be super interesting and way awkward. Bonus points for steve giving nat a hickey and that’s how they remember the next day

“hi could you please write 32, 80, 143, 145 + 175 for capwidow? sjsjs I need more capwidow stuff :’) thank youu” requested by another anon

4. Animalistic behaviors and characteristics, dominant + 25. Breath + 31. Clothes fetishization + 80. Hurt/comfort + 107. Noise+ 143. Simultaneous orgasms + 145. Sleep and bedding themes + 175. Worry (kink meme)

also inspired by this gif and this prompt by @xo-stardust720​

He’s shaking.

Even through the alcohol thrumming in her veins, through the haze clouding over her senses, she still catches onto this. She can feel his hand trembling over her hips, against the bared sliver of skin between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her jeans. Because no, she hadn’t bothered to take a jacket when she left; something Clint would have given her crap about if he’d tagged along tonight. Just like he would’ve given her crap about her taking a stranger home.

She’s never taken anyone home.

She lets them take her to their place, or she gets them a room at whatever hotel they happen upon first, but this has never been on the table before. Her apartment is really only a place for her to sleep between missions, somewhere for her to keep her things, but she’s still wary of inviting someone else into her space. It’s a luxury she never had in the Red Room, and maybe it’s a simple thing to find comfort in, but she doesn’t care. She enjoys having this one thing to herself, and frankly, she’d rather not deal with the exasperation that comes with kicking someone out in the morning.

This one is different, though.

This man who spent all night listening to her crack jokes and letting her babble on about nothing at all, rather than give the pretty bartender more than a polite smile and brief reply whenever she flirted with him. That alone had been enough to intrigue Natasha, and so had the fact that she couldn’t quite tell if he was nervous. She’s always been adept at reading people, but this one was being difficult, whether he realized it or not, and she’s itching to figure out why.

She eases her lips off of his, smooths her thumbs over his jaw as he blinks his eyes open to peer up at her. It’s unfair how ridiculous blue they are.

“If I didn’t know any better, stranger, I’d say you were anxious.”

The corners of his lips twitch as he flexes his hands over her hips, and she swallows lightly, trying to ignore the drunk, hazy observance of how his brown leather jacket matches her couch. He’s tall and broad and solid, and yet it had been nothing short of adorable when she shoved him down and straddled his lap and he’d just blinked at her in return. His eyes were glinting in a way that told her that he was intrigued by her, too, but she could also see the hesitance.

She still can, and her heart squeezes just a little.

She parts her lips, starts to say that they can stop, but then he breathes out, “Steve,” as he tightens his grip, pulling her against his chest again.

She feels tingly, and airy, and the way his thumbs are slowly smoothing circles over her skin is kind of her favorite thing right now.

“My name is Steve,” he says as if to clarify, smiling, and she almost laughs.

“That wasn’t an answer I was looking for, Steve.”

He chuckles softly, and, fuck. He has dimples. “I may be a little anxious,” he admits, his voice soft, gravelly, and she only really has a second to feel terrible before he continues with, “It’s not you.” He squeezes her hips again as if to emphasize this, and the tightness in her chest ebbs. He grins. “Though, the fact that you’re beautiful is certainly messing with my game.”

His voice sounds dry, almost sarcastic, as though he’s poking fun at himself.

“I’ve never done this,” he whispers, tipping his head up to kiss her jaw, like he can’t quite help himself. She holds his gaze, trying to tell if he’s being serious. And he must be able to tell this, because he adds, “Not all the way, at least.” He kisses her jaw again, and again, trailing his lips lower. If he’s planning to distract her from how much more weight his words just added to this, to them, it almost works. She leans into the sensation, the soft, feather-light trace of his mouth making her tingle, driving her a little bit crazy. “I’ve had a hard time adjusting,” he murmurs into her skin, and she gasps as he brushes over her pulse. He pauses here, kissing her. “I came close, a few times, but… it never felt right.”

She swallows. It feels as if the room is spinning. “But this does?”

“Yeah.” He pulls back, grasps her chin and tips her head to meet his gaze. If he’s never been with a woman like this before, he’s certainly not acting like it. “Don’t know why, but this feels right.” His eyes are glinting. “You feel right.”

She waits for it. Waits for the cold rush of panic to hit her, for her flight response to kick in. This is something far more intimate than she ever imagined handling tonight, and she waits for her mind to tell her that it shouldn’t be her.

But… she wants it to be.

She’s not quite sure why, but she does.

“Okay,” she breathes, sliding off of his lap and onto her feet, and she takes his hands in his, guiding him off the chair. He’s holding her gaze as she starts to walk backwards, guiding them the few steps over to her room. She can tell that he’s still nervous, but some of it has ebbed, the anxiousness in his eyes quickly dissolving into something heavier, hotter. Her stomach flutters.

Then he’s grasping her face and slanting his lips over hers again, kissing her harder and deeper and with far more certainty, more urgency. A warmth bursts over her, fanning down her skin, and his large hands are on her, toying with the hem of her shirt. She thinks he’s hesitating again at first, and she slides her hands up his arms, squeezing gently, soothing him - until she feels his torso tense, then start to shake softly. She pauses against his lips.

Fuck.

He’s laughing.

She blinks, pulling away to find his eyes alight with amusement. “I said I came close to going all the way,” he points out, and there’s a little bit of a challenge in the way he arches an eyebrow ever so slightly. “I didn’t say I’ve never been with a woman at all.” Then he hooks an arm around her and lifts her with this sort of growl, making her suck in a breath as he gently tips her on top of her unmade bed. She wants to laugh, but she mirrors his smirk instead, grasping at her shirt and camisole and arching her back as she tugs them over her head. His throat flexes as he swallows.

“I’ll be sure to significantly raise my expectations, then,” she teases, and he chuckles as he shrugs out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor, and then he starts to undo the buttons of his shirt. She wonders if he’s taking his time on purpose, or if she’s just imagining this because she’s so damn impatient.

But then he’s shrugging out of his shirt, too, tugging off of his undershirt, and she feels her lips part when she sees the hard dips of his chest. Fuck. Fuck.

“You look a little uncomfortable there,” he tells her, his voice even, almost nonchalant, but she can tell that he’s teasing. He reaches for her hips, gives them another light squeeze, and waits for her little nod of permission before slowly tugging her jeans and her panties down her legs. She knows she’s wet - she has been ever since they left the bar, honestly, but hearing him call her beautiful had made her feel warmer, wetter, and the wisps of pleasure have been rippling over her ever since.

(She can’t remember the last time someone had called her beautiful.)

(She can’t remember if anyone ever had.)

“Have you ever…?” She trails off, letting her legs fall open a little wider, and the way his gaze fixes on her sex for a moment almost makes her squirm.

“Twice.” His answer is simple, honest. “Not sure if I was any good, but…”

He trails off, too, and she wants to laugh about it, except now she’s kind of really damn curious. She spreads her legs a little wider, slides her hand down her stomach to dip into her wetness, and his eyes grow stormier, hazier.

“Everyone needs practice.”

His lips curve at the corners, and for a second, she thinks he’s going to quip in reply. But then he’s kneeling in front of her, hooking her knee over his shoulder and sliding her closer to the edge of the bed, his breath rolling right over her folds, and she makes this little noise from the back of her throat. Then he licks a broad stripe over her center, moaning, and her back arches off of the bed.

Oh.

Oh.

His strokes are a little hesitant, but only at first, until he pulls a soft moan from her lips when he puts the perfect amount of pressure on her clit, and this seems to encourage him. If he hadn’t said the words for himself, she wouldn’t have thought he was nervous at all. His strokes are tentative but firm, growing bolder with every lick, and he’s not hesitant at all about toying with her clit. Part of her thinks that maybe someone taught him this, but also, he just seems like the kind of person that would be a fucking tease.

He reads her easily enough, too. Reads her little shifts and her soft noises and the cant of her hips, sucking harder when her body jolts at a particularly good stroke, easing off when her thigh starts to tense from all of the the sensations.

Her pleasure is climbing higher and higher, her body arching off the mattress as the wisps of her orgasm start to fan out over her skin, and, and -

She reaches down and pushes firmly at his shoulders, all but gasping as she tries to scoot her body away, and she should not find it so adorable yet sexy at the same time when he blinks up at her in confusion, licking her wetness of of his lips. It takes every ounce of control not to drag him back to her sex.

“In me,” she demands, her voice breathy and a little bit raspy as she starts to grasp at his shoulders, trying to tug him up her body. “I want you in me.”

“But you were –”

“I know.” She was close, and she should be embarrassed by how quickly this perfect stranger had almost unraveled her, but she doesn’t care. Not at all. She wants to come with him inside of her, and if this is really his first time being in a woman, she knows he won’t last very long. She wants them to come together. She doesn’t know why, but she does, and she thinks he wants it, too.

He seems to understand what she wants him to do next, because he presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh before pulling away, pushing down his jeans and then his boxers. She swallows, taking in the sight of him, and he straightens his shoulders ever so slightly. If not for the slight flush of color at the edges of his cheeks, she might not be able to tell that he’s a little nervous again under her stare. She licks her lips a little and meets his gaze, nods toward the pillows, and his lips twitch at the corners as he complies and climbs onto the bed, resting back against her headboard. She reaches for her jeans off of the floor, finds the condom tucked into her pocket, and she tears the package as she crawls across the bed to him.

He’s long, and hard, and the noise he makes when she gently grasps his length and rolls her thumb over the wet tip is absolutely delicious.

“Lay back,” she tells him, and he does, sliding further down against the pillows as she climbs under her duvet. She’s not cold - she feels like she’s burning just under her skin, honestly - and based on the flush spreading over his skin, the way his chest is rising and falling with his heavy, uneven breaths, she knows he isn’t all that cold, either. Still. This little thing feels… intimate, somehow, and she kind of wants this for him and little bit for herself, too.

She feels herself smirk, unable to quite help it when she leans down and licks along the underside of his length, and his entire body tenses, his hips nearly rolling off of the mattress as she closes around the tip and gives it a little suck. He hisses out a breath, and she eases off of him, licking her lips again.

“You uncomfortable there?” she asks, and she’s not - teasing, exactly. But even if she is, he seems to be amused, either way. “I’ve barely touched you.”

“No, but…” He swallows lightly, shrugs a shoulder. “You’re beautiful.” Her heart skips. There’s that damn word again. Then his smile softens ever so slightly. “Especially when I’m going down on you. That was more than enough for me.”

She wants to laugh, but her voice catches in her throat because he sounds so genuine and she doesn’t know what to do with that.

“Perhaps I can remedy that.”

His body tenses again as she starts to roll the condom over him, and she gently scratches her nails over his hipbone as she slides it all the way down. Fuck, the way his pleasure tugs over his face is kind of her favorite sight, at least for right now, and she thinks he’s already so close. She may not last very long, either.

She lifts herself over his length, and his hands slight up her thighs to settle over her hips as he blinks slowly up at her, as if half in a daze. She swallows lightly and leans over him, braces her hands against his chest as she kisses him once, twice, three times, licking at the seam of his lips and relishing in his small gasp as she pulls away. He squeezes her hips, wanting to draw her in again, but then she’s sinking over him and he lets out a long, low groan.

Fuck, fuck.

She very nearly whimpers, feeling him stretch her, fill her, and her body is damn near trembling as he bottoms out. His grip on her is even tighter now, almost ridiculously so, but she doesn’t care that there will definitely be bruises there in the morning. She kind of likes the thought that he’ll have left his marks on her.

She keeps the roll of her hips slow at first, letting them both adjust, letting them both relish in how fucking perfect it feels. She hardly ever uses that word, but there’s really nothing else to describe the way her body is tingling, vibrating in pleasure as the sensation ripples over her again and again in an unrelenting wave of sensations. She’s moaning louder now, broken and breathy, and again it seems as if her arousal is making him feel bolder, more sure of himself as he starts to move with her. She knows it’s kind of difficult in this position considering he’s never done this before, but, fuck, it’s more than enough.

He’s deep and thick inside of her, and every little roll of his hips brings him deeper, somehow. He groans and rocks with her, thrusting up into her and brushing against that sweet spot that makes her keen. He tenses at the sound of pure pleasure she lets out, and she falls against his chest, grasping his face and kissing him hot and wet and needy. He won’t last much longer and neither will she, and she grasps one of his hands at her hips and drags it between her legs. He catches on quickly, his thumb finding her clit and rolling gently, and a shudder of pleasure rolls down her spine.

Oh, oh - he’s fumbling, not quite sure what to do, or maybe just too wrapped in sensations like she is to remember. But she doesn’t care. That feels fucking amazing and so does he, and she’s right there, right there - and then he slips his tongue past her lips, making his little noise as he kisses her softly, almost sweetly, and it’s kind of ridiculous that this is what pushes her over that edge.

She cries out against his lips as she unravels at the seams, her orgasm bursting over her, white-hot and consuming. He moans under her, his entire body growing taut, and a few thrusts later he’s following her over that edge.

…

“You look like shit.”

She rolls her eyes, knowing that Clint can see this as he comes from behind her, and he snickers as he quickly catches up to her strides.

She’s sore. Perfectly, delicious sore, and she bites on the inside of her lip to resist the urge to smirk. She’ll tell Clint - probably - but certainly not when they have to meet with Nick in a few minutes regarding a new assignment. She’d rather not have to answer a dozen and one questions regarding her one night stand, or deal with all of the pointed, implicit (albeit rather clever) comments Clint will no doubt work into their work conversations.

She had woken up this morning to find Steve gone, and, as much as she’d wanted to be pissed by this, she simply couldn’t. She may not have been able to get a perfect read on him last night, but she’s absolutely certain she was right when she thought that he was one of the most decent guys she’d ever come across. He wasn’t the type to skip out without a trace, and she couldn’t help the stupid, giddy grin that spread across her lips when she walked into her kitchen to find breakfast waiting for her on the kitchen counter. She rarely kept actual groceries stocked in her kitchen, but he’d went across the street to the 24-hour diner she knows is there and come back with a few donuts, an egg and sausage sandwich, and a to-go cup of coffee and left it for her, along with a note he’d quickly written on the back of his receipt.

He’d apologized - twice - about having to leave, explained that he had an early meeting, and scrawled his phone number under his signature after calling her beautiful again and saying in a few more ridiculously charming words that he’d like to see her. She shouldn’t have found the gesture so fucking cute, but it was, and somehow she knew it was genuine, too. Or maybe she just hoped.

(She doesn’t care. She’d liked it, and maybe that means the difference doesn’t matter.)

Nick’s office door is cracked open in an invite to let themselves in, and Clint holds it open for her as she slides her sunglasses off and tucks them into her jacket pocket. There’s someone standing beside Nick in front of his desk, his back to the door, and she feels herself pause entirely when her gaze falls on the brown leather jacket draped over his broad shoulders. She feels Clint bump into her, saying her name, but she sort of can’t breathe right now.

Nick blinks his gaze over to her, no doubt taking in the slip in her almost nonchalant expression, and he raises his eyebrows, intrigued.

“Captain Rogers, I’d like you to meet two of my best agents,” Nick introduces, and the man turns around and quickly catching sight of her.

He blinks, surprise starting to tug at the small, polite smile that had been on his lips. His bright, ridiculously blue eyes are locked with hers, his lips parting.

Rogers. Steve Rogers.

Captain America.

Somewhere through the thick haze of the alcohol that had been pulsing through her veins last night, she’d known that he looked familiar, yet she’d simply pushed it away. He was handsome - insanely so - yet she’d simply dismissed this as a coincidence. There were hundreds and thousands of people in the world, thousands of blonde-haired, blue-eyed men that could have his build, his gentlemanly smile. She couldn’t have known him already.

She presses her lips together, still not quite drawing her gaze away. She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to feel right now, but she’s fairly certain it shouldn’t be a flutter of warmth, of familiarity. She shouldn’t feel so damn relieved to see him again, especially now, and especially like this.

(But she does. She does.)

“The Captain has agreed to join SHIELD,” Nick continues, and she swears she feels her heart skip when he adds, “and Natasha, you’ll be his partner for now.”

Steve blinks - once, twice, and then his lips twitch at the corners, and she very nearly lets out a laugh.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

[kahayaya]

04/26/2021

It’s night time bout to head to sleep. Just some updates in life.

Booked a flight to fly to SF on May 14th. Im really excited. I wanted to go back so I can see everyone as I graduate and also celebrate my birthday. I plan on piercing my left ear with double helix. That will be exciting and fun. Honestly idk what I wanna do exactly when Im up there. Aside from set plans from Daniel them, I think I wanna roam around SF. Even though its been 5 months since I left, I have a nostalgic feeling to last year. Just the independence and also struggles of CO-VID. Every place will feel sentimental with associations to that timeline. For sure gonna go to Alamo Square, go to Hayes Valley, and go to Ocean Point. I wanna hop around houses with Jim, Daniel, and Darren’s place, I just need to ask them if I can stay there for one night. But Daniel’s place will be the main place I’ll stay at. 

Crazy to look at my calendar and I’ll be graduating very soon. Less than a month and I’ll be done with school. School work has been lax and I don’t have a final. I mostly have projects and they all seem easy to work on. 

Unity Final is a project with things we’ve done.

Deploying Software is taking what we learned from this semester and applying it all together with one project.

Filipino Politics/Justice had been reduced from a 12+ pg paper to a 3-5 page paper. 

Senior Team Project is just a demonstration of our final product for the semester.

All of those finals are relatively easy and not too hard unlike last semester. Thinking about last semester, I really had a tough time. I hard two of the hardest classes for taking CS and I also had to plan and do my move out. It was the most stressful and I felt dreadful during the last month of that semester. I recall a moment where I completed one of my finals and I felt a weight off my chest lift. As I completed more projects and finals, that weighed felt lifted. It was probably one of my most difficult semester here at USF but a worth while semester. Which made this semester I am in very easy and lax.

As for living here in Vegas, its been chill. Everything is settled on my end and my parents are picking up the smaller things they need to do. Like finding health providers here, organizing our stuff in the garage, and getting the cars that are coming from hawaii. Just today, my mom and I got our driver’s license and registered the Honda Civic, which is a relief cuz that was one of the things I needed to do soon. But on a weekly basis, I’ve been doing nothing much new. I either help my parents run errands or I just sit in the house. Occasionally I would go out for food to try out places. Also going to the gym is another thing I do. I’ve been going 3-4 times a week with or without my friend. My body was sore at first but getting back in the groove really started to not be as bad. I also think since I just moved here, I was trying out soo much food places that I gained some weight, honestly back to where I started before my Keto diet last semester. I weigh about 215 ibs rn, but I think some of that has been the muscle gain from gym’ing. I plan on cutting it down on food and pay attention to what I put in my body now. 

Aside from that, I feel excited to what holds in my post-college life. Again like i mentioned before, it will be weird for me because my entire life so far has been centered around schooling and that was my drive in life. Was to go to school and just do well in them. Now with that out of the way, my life will be so open to do whatever I want. Short-term plans I have is getting a part-time job and doing a side-project that will add to my portfolio, while also studying for my interviews. Then when I feel ready, which i plan to be by the Fall of this year, I will start applying around SF as well as job opportunities in Vegas. I think I am looking for Web Based applications or mobile app development jobs, as I enjoyed making them in my senior team project. I defs see the Web Application as a sustainable job market but I will be open to different options that relate to CS.  in the far future however, Im not too sure what exactly I want to do. Thinking about being in a relationship but at the same time I’m not inclined to find someone to date. I feel like my goals are not centered to find someone here and Im focusing on myself to make something financially stable to be on my own. I think my role in relationships as of right now is passive, where I would be open but I won’t actively be on the lookout for one. 

Life right now feels good but weird. Ever since moving to this house, I’m still in awe and the feeling just doesn’t sit right with me. This house feels like it doesn’t belong to me in a sense that it feels like I’m at someone else's house. I think I’m thinking like this because I’ve never been in a house this big and my family never had the thought of buying a bigger house or even moving out of Hawaii. So I’m still trying to work out this feeling of living in this house and actually calling it home. I definitely like living here in this house and the area I’m in but im still adjusting to the new environment I live in. 

As the week slowly approach my graduation I know I will slowly start to feel anxious because that’s how I’ve always operated. I see in to the future of what I think will happen but I will be up at nights when that date comes in closely. It will be a crazy month of May, as so much things are going to happen and I can’t wait any longer to dive into May. Anyways I’ll be updating whenever I am free to write stuff down and if anything significant happens.

Cheers

[decembercamiecherries]

@chillxpillz: (I apologize for my English, I’m French !) Hi ! I really love your stories, seeing that you’ve written some new stuff always make my day better. You’re without a doubt my fav ! I was wondering if you were still taking random suggestions because I have one : Gon introducing Killua as his boyfriend to Ging and it goes all awkward because Ging is very intrusive or something like that idk haha. I’ve never seen something like that before and I think it might be funny ! xx

A week later and I finally got this done for you ^^; I’m so sorry for the wait, when you sent this to me I had like five requests that I had to finish first, but this is finally done! I hope you like this, I’ve never written Ging before but I tried my best with him ^-^

Canon universe for this one, the boys are not boys in this haha- they’re 18 and visiting Aunt Mito but, surprise! Ging’s there whoops

(part two) (part three)

It was a quiet night on Whale Island. Fireflies danced in the humid air outside, a warm breeze drifted into Gon’s room from the open window, and the sound of crickets and waves crashing into far off shore was peaceful. 

Killua could just barely make out the curve of Gon’s uplifted cheek in the dim light. Gon was probably smiling at him with that love-struck look of his and Killua’s face warmed at the thought. 

Ugh. He was so dumb, getting embarrassed over a smile, jeez. 

Ignoring his horrible blush, Killua refocused on drawing shapeless shapes onto the top Gon’s hand where it rested in the tiny space between their bodies. They were laying side-by-side on Gon’s bed, just like they used to when they were younger.

But they weren’t younger anymore. And sharing a bed had taken on a different meaning now after being reunited four years since saying goodbye in front of the World Tree.

“Killua?” Gon’s breath washed over Killua’s face. They really were close; less than inch distance between their elbows and shoulders. But Killua didn’t move away.

“Yeah?” he whispered back.

“Is…is Ging bothering you?”

Killua was so surprised that his fingers froze on Gon’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” Gon said. Killua couldn’t see his wince but he knew Gon enough to guess his expressions without needing his eyes. “I didn’t know he was going to be here.”

“Stupid,” Killua said after recovering from his initial shock. “You don’t have to apologize. He’s your dad, I was going to meet him eventually.”

“Mm, I know. But.”

“But?”

“I don’t know. He’s been kind of, um.”

“Annoying?” Killua finished with a small grin and the bed shook with Gon’s laughter.

“Shhh!” Killua shoved his hand in Gon’s face in a vain attempt to shut him up. “If you make too much noise your aunt will come in!”

“Sorry!” Gon said breathlessly, soft lips moving under the pads of Killua’s fingers. “I couldn’t help it! That was funny.”

“And true.”

“Heh, yeah.”

They were both silent for a minute, recalling the awkward and extremely uncomfortable introduction a few days ago when they had entered the house to find Ging sitting at the kitchen table.

“Oh! Killua, you haven’t met Ging yet, have you?” Aunt Mito had asked.

“…no,” Killua said, stomach tightening in anticipation as Ging’s eyes- dark brown, so similar to Gon’s but not- appraised him. 

Killua shook himself. It was ridiculous to be nervous about meeting Ging. Ging was Gon’s dad, the very person Killua had scrambled around the world to search for with Gon. He was just another person, even if he was a super powerful Hunter, and that shouldn’t make Killua anxious.

But it was because Ging was Gon’s dad that set Killua on edge. Maybe a few years ago it wouldn’t have mattered. But now, it did. Now Killua was Gon’s-

Gon stepped closer to Killua’s side and their arms brushed. The proximity hid the way Gon’s fingers twisted themselves around Killua’s from Aunt Mito and Ging’s gaze.

“Ging,” Gon said and Ging raised a hand in greeting.

“Yo,” he said with a grimace. Killua nearly snorted; it seemed Gon’s dad was as thrilled as they were to run into him here.

Gon said, “We didn’t know you were home.”

Ging shrugged. “I was in the area. I didn’t know you were going to be visiting.”

“We were in the area,” Killua parroted back and Ging’s focus snapped back to him.

“…you’re one of the Zoldyck’s kids, right?” Ging said after a pause and Killua stiffened. What the hell did that mean?!

“You know, I ran into one of your family members a while back,” Ging continued thoughtfully.

Killua waited for him to continue but he didn’t. Finally he gave in and asked through gritted teeth, “What happened?”

Ging smirked. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Ging,” Gon said quickly before Killua had the chance to react. “Ging, this is Killua. He’s been my best friend since we were twelve.”

Silence. Ging’s expression didn’t change- eyebrows raised, lips pulled down into an unimpressed frown…Killua didn’t get it. His own heart was pounding in his chest like it was trying to urge him to throw himself out the nearest window. His hands were sweaty and he squeezed Gon’s fingers to stop them from sliding away accidentally.

What was Ging waiting for?!

“Okay,” Ging said after a pregnant pause. “That’s great. And how long has he been your boyfriend?”

Gon’s mouth fell open and Killua sucked in a sharp breath, blood rushing to his face so fast that his vision swam.

“I-I,” Gon stuttered. “I- um. We-”

Killua wanted to help. Really, he did. But Killua couldn’t even bring himself to look at Gon. In fact, he couldn’t look at anything- too mortified to help the boy he was currently dating, too horrified to look at said date’s father who had just called them out on their relationship when they hadn’t even told Aunt Mito yet-

“WHAT?!” Aunt Mito said shrilly. “When did this happen?!”

What followed had been a very lengthy and extremely painful discussion on the current status of Killua and Gon’s romantic life, including when they had first started being ‘interested’ in one another, the location and time of their first date, how their first kiss had been-

“What about protection?” Ging interrupted.

Killua’s eyes bulged and Gon let out a tiny squeaking sound as Aunt Mito’s head whipped around to stare at her cousin. “Excuse me?!”

Ging gave her a dubious expression. “C’mon, Mito. You don’t think these two are so innocent and pure that they’ll stop at a kiss? They’ve been best friends since they were twelve, after all.”

Gon shrunk in his chair and Killua could never remember wanting to die more than he did in that moment.

Even now, protected by the darkness of the night, Killua could feel his face radiating with heat. That had been so embarrassing.

As if he could hear Killua’s thoughts, Gon whispered. “That was so bad. Aunt Mito wouldn’t leave us alone together for days.”

“How do you think she’d react if she found out we were sleeping in the same bed, instead of me on the floor in the sleeping back?” Killua asked.

“She would probably make me sleep in the guest room,” Gon admitted sheepishly and Killua let out a tiny laugh. “Hey, that’s not funny! I don’t sleep as well without you…”

Killua’s heart skipped a beat. He swallowed thickly. “Me neither.”

Gon’s hand moved slowly from under Killua’s fingers. He flipped it over so his palm was facing up and Killua easily slid his hand into the calloused one offered to him.

“What if your dad found us?” he asked quietly, rubbing his thumb up and down Gon’s warm skin.

“Umm. I’m not sure, actually.”

“He’d probably make a big scene,” Killua said. “Don’t you remember what happened when he caught us holding hands under the table?”

Gon giggled and Killua couldn’t help but smile in response. That had been another disastrous occasion- they had been eating dinner when Ging had suddenly and very loudly asked what their hands were doing under the table. Aunt Mito’s face had turned very red, very quickly and now Gon and Killua were forced to sit on opposite sides of the table whenever they gathered to eat a meal.

Gon’s grandmother, on the other hand, had to leave the room because she was cackling too hard to sit up straight.

“Ging’s done that a lot,” Killua said with a frown. “He keeps catching us at the exact moment we start doing anything couple-ish.”

Gon made a humming sound. “He’s probably just doing it to see how you react.”

“Maybe. Maybe he’s protective of you.”

Gon laughed at that. “I doubt it. He’s never been like that before.”

“Maybe…” Killua’s heart clenched. “Maybe he doesn’t like me.”

“If he does, too bad,” Gon said simply. His grip on Killua’s hand tightened and Killua could feel the heavy weight of Gon’s eyes on his face even though he couldn’t see him. “I like you. So that’s the only thing that matters. Right?”

Something in Killua’s chest lightened at that, and he let out a long breath.

“Right,” he said softly. 

He felt Gon shuffle even closer and Killua’s pulse started to race. He leaned in, knowing that he could find Gon’s face even if he was blind-

BANG!

Gon screamed in Killua’s ear and Killua promptly tumbled out of Gon’s bed and onto the floor. Wincing, he looked up to see a familiar silhouette in the now open doorway to Gon’s bedroom.

Shit.

“Mito, they’re sharing a bed!” Ging’s holler was loud enough to rattle the house.

“What did you do to them?” Ging asked as Mito stomped back into the kitchen.

She huffed. “I put Gon in the guest bedroom. What else?”

Ging grinned at that, gold-brown eyes glimmering in the kitchen light. Mito knew that smile from years of childhood adventures and mischievous plans that only half worked- that smile was a wildcard. And she wasn’t so sure that she was happy to see it now.

With a sigh she sat down across from him at the table. “Why do you keep causing problems for them? I wouldn’t have checked, they could’ve spent the entire night like that if you hadn’t told me.”

Ging shifted his gaze to the window, where the moon glowed orange and full over the horizon. 

“I’m not sure why, exactly.”

Mito scowled. “Don’t give me that. You always have a reason for everything. Do you not like Killua, is that it?”

To her surprise, Ging shook his head immediately. “That kid’s a good person. He’s nothing like the rest of his family. He’s good for Gon, too. I don’t think anyone else could keep up with Gon like that. I definitely know no one could keep up with me when I was his age.”

Mito kept her expression carefully composed at the confession. It was strange to hear Ging talk like this. Was he jealous of their relationship? No, that couldn’t be it. Ging only ever wanted to be off on his own. He didn’t want anyone to hold him back.

“So…” She still didn’t understand his motives. “What is it, then? Do you just like messing with them?”

Ging rolled his head around to smile widely at Mito once more, and she knew she had her answer.

“What’s life without a little challenge?” Ging said. There was a gleam in his eyes again- it was a look she had seen reflected in Gon’s more times then she could count.

Mito just barely held herself back from groaning. These boys would be the death of her one day.

(part two) (part three)