#but yeah everything is all good now and i felt like the fic fits today's prompt

[maevebabyy]

TRANCE

daniela avanzini x fem reader

summary - daniela thinks you’re staring for the wrong reasons, only to figure out that isn’t the case at all.

a/n - short fic! might post a part 2 to this just cuz of how short it is LOL

wc - 1.8k

the hallways buzzed with the familiar sounds of laughter and chatter, but today felt different. you leaned against your locker listening to your friends, sophia and yoonchae talk about some one-off situation. they were mid conversation, but your attention drifted, scanning the sea of students.

that’s when you spotted daniela, and everything else faded into the background.

today, her natural thick, curly hair cascaded around her shoulders, a riot of wild waves that bounced with each step. man, you were a sucker for curls. it was a thought that flitted through your mind, making your heart race. 

you had always thought she was beautiful, but this? this was something else entirely. her natural hair seemed to reflect a newfound confidence that made her look even more captivating.

what prompted this change? you had seen her straightening her hair for so long, trying to fit into a mold that didn’t seem to capture all of her beauty. but now? now she radiated a kind of raw beauty that left you in awe. you couldn’t help but think that the curls she wore today suited her. really suited her. it put you in a trance, simply put.

“hey, you good?” sophia nudged you playfully, breaking your trance.

you blinked, trying to refocus on the two girls beside you. “yeah, just got distracted for a sec,” you said, glancing again at daniela.

yoonchae smirked, a teasing glint in the young girl’s eyes, not even needing to follow your gaze to know what has you distracted. “staring at daniela again?”

“shut up,” you replied, your cheeks warming. “have you even seen her yet? her hair looks amazing today.”

sophia raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile spreading across the older girl’s face. “you’ve been crushing on her since your freshman year. just go talk to her!”

“i can’t just walk up to her,” you said, slightly frustrated. “what would i even say? ‘hey, i’ve been watching you for years, and i think your hair is really pretty today.’”

“well, definitely not that. you sound like a creepy stalker.” yoonchae deadpanned, her lips twitching in a suppressed smile.

“exactly! i don’t want to give her that impression,” you groaned, rubbing the back of your neck. “what if she just thinks i’m weird?”

sophia laughed, shaking her head. “well, you’ll never know if you don’t try. you could just compliment her like a normal person.”

yoonchae giggles softly, “yeah, that’s the problem, y/n’s not normal. watch, she’s gonna start writing her love letters from a ‘secret admirer’”

you rolled your eyes, half laughing, half exasperated. “secret admirer? really? i’m not in a rom-com, yoonie.”

“maybe not, but you’re definitely acting like you’re in one,” sophia teased. “look, just say something simple. it’s really not as big of a deal as you make it seem, y/n.”

sophia’s words struck a chord with you. ’ just say something simple. it’s really not as big of a deal as you make it seem, y/n.’ but how could it not feel like a big deal? this was daniela, the girl who had captured your attention since freshman year, now junior. every glance, every laugh had built up in your mind, creating a tapestry of admiration that felt almost insurmountable.

but truthfully, you were tired of waiting. tired of waiting for the right time to go up and just talk to the said girl who successfully lived in your head rent free. each day felt like another wasted opportunity when you couldn’t gather your courage and talk to daniela after 2, nearly 3 years of pining after the cuban girl. 

you glanced towards daniela, who was leaning against a locker with her group of friends, laughter spilling from their circle like sunlight through clouds. and for a split second, your eyes met.

-

“is she still staring?” daniela asked her friend, lara.

“yeah, she is,” lara replied, glancing over. “what do you think she wants?”

daniela shrugged, twisting a curl between her fingers. “i don’t know. i thought maybe she was judging me or something. i mean, i changed my hair, and now i probably look stupid.”

“stupid? girl, you’ve gotta be joking” manon, another friend, laughed while shaking her head. “you look hot! but if she’s always staring and never says anything, maybe she just doesn’t like you”

that thought pricked at daniela’s heart. you’ve always been there, lurking at the edges of her social circle, watching but never approaching. she had noticed you during classes, catching your gaze from the corner of her eye, but you always looked away as soon as she turned. it felt like you were analyzing her, critiquing every little detail of who she was. 

“that’s even worse,” daniela huffed. “if she’s staring and judging, she’s definitely got something negative to say.”

megan– who had previously been quiet during the conversation, leaned in, her voice low. “or she’s just intrigued. but honestly, if she keeps staring and runs away every time you catch her gaze, that’s just rude.”

“right? like, if you’re gonna look, at least have the guts to talk,” daniela said, frustration creeping into her tone. “i don’t need some girl sizing me up from across the hall like i’m some kind of science project.”

“seriously,” lara chimed in, rolling her eyes. “It’s like she’s got some weird obsession or something.”

“obsessed? she doesn’t even talk to me!” daniela shot back, crossing her arms. “it’s just… annoying. if she thinks i look dumb with these curls, she could at least say it to my face.”

megan shrugged, her expression thoughtful. “maybe she’s just shy. you know how people can be when they first see us.”

“shy?’ daniela scoffed, her irritation flaring. “she’s been staring at me since freshman year! if she’s so shy, why not just avoid looking at me?”

manon grinned softly, trying to temper her friend’s anger. “what if she’s too intimidated by you? you sorta do have this whole vibe going on. you’re like, unapproachable pretty dani.”

“unapproachable pretty?” daniela echoed, raising an eyebrow. “i’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, manon.”

“hey, it’s not a bad thing!” manon insisted, waving her hands. “you’ve got this confidence, and maybe she’s just not sure how to approach someone like you.”

“confidence, huh?” daniela said, her tone skeptical. “because i feel anything but that right now.”

“look,” lara interjected, leaning in with a smirk. “why don’t you just go over there and ask her? clear the air y’know? It’s better than standing here stressing about it.”

“are you kidding?” daniela rolled her eyes. “what if she really does think i look stupid? i don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me.”

“or,” megan offered, “what if she has a friend crush? maybe she’s been too scared to say anything or approach you since you’re always with us.”

daniela considered this, biting her lip. “so what? i walk over and say, ‘hey, i noticed you’ve been staring at me for three years– what’s up with that?’ sounds real great.”

“why not?” lara grinned. “besides you’ve got nothing to lose. if she really is judging you, you can tell her she’s the one who looks ridiculous for not saying anything to your face.”

“right, because that’s how you make friends,” daniela scoffed, her irritation bubbling. “you know what? maybe i will front her.”

-

the next day, daniela stood in front of her mirror, running a flat iron through her hair. she usually wore it straight anyway, but after yesterday’s encounter, she didn’t wanna attract people’s stares again. although the curls felt freeing, so… her, she decided to revert back to the familiar sleekness.

as she walked into school, she felt the usual stares, but not as intense as yesterday when she wore her curls. of course, she felt your gaze on her too. it was a familiar scene, you leaning against your locker –which just so happened to be across from hers– surrounded by your friends. 

taking a deep breath, she mentally prepared herself for what she hoped would be a simple conversation. as she approached, she caught your eye. you looked surprised, almost startled, as you straightened up.

“hey,” she spoke, “do you have a minute to talk?”

“uh, yeah! sure, totally!” you replied, your weird enthusiasm almost stumbling over itself. yeah? sure? totally? good going, you sounded like a total idiot in front of daniela, who looked at you curiously.

you glanced towards sophia and yoonchae, who looked at you teasingly. “uhm, let’s go over there,” you suggested, motioning toward a quiet corner of the hallway, your gestures a bit awkward.

once you reached a more secluded spot, an awkward silence stretched between you. without hesitation, daniela jumped straight to the topic, “why do you keep staring?”

you blinked, surprise flashing across your face. not expecting the cuban girl to be so blunt. “uh, what? i don’t stare.” you felt the heat rush to your cheeks, instantly regretting your defensive tone. 

“really?” daniela deadpans, crossing her arms, “don’t think i haven’t noticed your glances for the past three years.”

“okay, maybe i noticed you,” you admitted, feeling the embarrassment deepen. “but it’s not like that, i mean, it’s just–”

“just what?” the cuban girl deadpans, raising an eyebrow. “especially yesterday, you were staring so hard. you know, if you’ve got a problem with me, say it to me directly.”

a problem? did daniela think you were judging her? 

you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. “no, i uhm, i don’t have a problem with you, i’m sorry if i made you feel that way.” you waved your hands around, unable to make direct eye contact with the girl in front of you. 

“you changed your hair! it looked amazing. i just— i thought it was cool.” you winced at how lame you sounded, “i mean, i thought you looked really confident with the curls.”

daniela softened her expression now, amused. “really?”

“yeah, really,” you replied, surprising yourself with your boldness. “y-you should wear your curls more often. i mean– i thought it was a huge upgrade from the usual.”

“upgrade, huh?” she said, tilting her head; a suppressed smile on her face. she had you figured out now. “that’s an interesting way to put it.”

“yeah, like, you seemed more… you?” you fumbled, hoping your words made sense. “y-yeah, like, you always look amazing, but yesterday felt like a more real you.”

yeah, daniela definitely had you figured out now. she grinned, her dimples now showing. this girl’s sorta cute, she thought. “okay then. just… don’t keep staring at me, talk to me,” she said, half-teasing and half serious. “or i might think you’re a total weirdo.”

you chuckled nervously, “...okay?” 

“by the way, i never caught your name.”

“huh?” you mentally facepalmed at your immediate response, “sorry, it’s uh, y/n.”

daniela smiled again, “well… i’ll see you around then, y/n.”

just like that, the cuban girl turned on her heel, leaving you behind freaking out internally in that secluded corner. 

maybe she’d start wearing her curls more often.

a/n - i'm gonan off myself why has it been midterm szn everyday for the PAST WEEK anyway here r rhe 2 songs that i’ve had on repeat

[20doozers]

★Sickly sweet★

TW: fluff, 2006-2007 Tom, sick Tom, caretaker m!reader, cutesy shit, etc

A/N: IM SORRY THE FIC IS A FEW HOURS LATE

Tom grunted as his alarm went off again, rolling over and falling right back to sleep. Well he was almost asleep before he felt a gentle hand on his back and a dip in the edge of the bed with the weight of someone sitting down.

“Tom.. c’mon we have an event today, David wants us at the venue by 2.” The gentle voice of m/n hit Tom’s ears, only making him groan as he curled further into the pillow he’d been cuddling. He knew they had an event today, there’d be lots of press and for a newly famed band they were supposed to have good press. But here he was, feeling like shit with a runny nose and sweaty forehead, signs of a cold on an important event day.

“Tom..?” M/n slowly rubbed Tom’s back, sighing when he heard a little sniffle come from Tom’s face burrowed in his pillow.

“Tom c’mon, what’s wrong?” He said softly, frowning when Tom lifted his flushed face to reveal his runny nose and tired looking eyes.

“Oh maus… poor you..” m/n cooed, reaching out to cradle Tom’s sweet face in his hands. He leaned down to kiss the boy’s head, the soft kiss lingering on the slightly younger boy’s dreads.

“…m-m/n..” Tom whimpered, only to be shushed by a gentle hand combing through his dreads.

“Shh.. just sleep, I’ll tell the guys that you’re sick.”

“B-but what about the interviews..?”

“We’ll figure it out. I’ll bring you some soup and tea in a bit, okay?” M/n ended with no discussion, kissing Tom’s head one last time before letting the sickly boy go back to sleep as he left to go tell the others that Tom was sick.

“What?! He’s sick? Seriously?” Bill huffed, crossing his arms in a dramatic pout. Gustav slipped an arm around his waist, earning strange glances from both m/n and Georg but both ignored it as the two had been getting awfully cozy around the house these past few weeks.

“Yep. He’s sick, has a fever and everything, poor guy was exhausted when I went to go get him.”

“Then what about the interviews and carpet?” Georg questioned, looking up from where he sat at the table eating cereal.

“I don’t know, I guess we’ll just tell them he’s sick? We can’t let Tom go out there while miserable.” The room was silent for a moment before everyone realized they needed to get ready to actually go to the event.

“I’m staying here with Tom, there’s no way I’m leaving him alone while sick.” M/n shrugged as he grabbed a mug, beginning to make some tea for Tom as the other boys got ready and left for the event.

M/n sighed as he walked through the empty house, carrying a bowl of soup and a mug of tea on a little tray to save him a trip downstairs. Nudging Tom’s door open with his foot and gazing down at the sleeping boy as he sat the soup and tea on his bedside table.

“Tom sweetheart.. I brought you some soup.. and some tea as well..” m/n whispered, gently rubbing Tom’s back as he sat down on the edge of the bed, slowly coaxing the boy out of his fitful sleep. Tom’s stomach growled at the smell of soup, chicken noodle soup to be exact. The scent just barely getting through his stuffy nose but enough to make him hungry for it.

“…Suppe..?”

“Yeah.. that’s right.. soup..” m/n encouraged gently, leaning down to kiss Tom’s head as he helped the boy sit up against the headboard of the bed. Tom sat up, yawning sleepily and rubbing his eyes as he sniffled. M/n gently rubbed Tom’s back as he handed him the soup, watching the boy stare at it while his brain slowly processed the fact that there was now a bowl of soup infront of him.

“Just don’t spill it, alright? I mean, it’s not like I’d be upset if you did, I just don’t wanna have to change the sheets.” M/n said with a small chuckle, gently kissing Tom’s head once more as he slowly began feeding Tom soup.

The rest of the day was slow, the other boys eventually came back home and all went to bed since it had been a long day. M/n checked on Tom every one in a while, usually met with a sleeping Tom or occasionally waking him up to bring his medication for his stuffy nose and sore throat.

M/n hummed as he carried the small bag of medication and such he’d gotten at the store, some coughdrops, medicine, overall things for Tom’s comfort. He pushed the door open, seeing a groggy looking Tom sat in bed rubbing his eyes.

“Good morning Prinzessin.” M/n teased, knowing full well it was the afternoon as he approached Tom’s bed and sat on the edge, setting the bag of items on the bedside table.

“I got you some stuff Tom. Coughdrops, medicine, just some stuff you might need.”

“…was..?” Tom asked in a raspy tone, looking at m/n with exhaustion clouded eyes.

“Nothing, just take it easy maus..” m/n gently kissed Tom’s head, the younger boy groggily whining and wrapping his arms around m/n in a weak plead for him to stay.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stay sweetheart.” M/n slid under the blankets with Tom, propped up on the pillows before patting his chest for Tom to lay down and cuddle with him.

“Nap time, hm?” M/n chuckled as Tom laid on him, tucking his head beneath m/n’s chin and yawning, his arms snaking around m/n’s waist to make sure he didn’t leave. M/n wrapped his arms around Tom, gently combing his fingers through Tom’s dreads. His poor baby, all sick and tired; poor Tom just needed some cuddles, kisses, and soup.. and medicine of course.

“Zeit für ein Nickerchen… schlaf gut mein Schatz..” M/n whispered, kissing Tom’s head one last time before closing his eyes and drifting to sleep with Tom. He didn’t care if he got sick, he got to take care of Tom and that’s what mattered.

YIPPEEE! Another Tom fic to add to my masterlist! Also happy fall! Halloween season is upon us and in October you guys might get a special Halloween fic! Love you guys!!!

Tags: @itsmealaiahh @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @billskeis @divinelolita @d0wn-in-the-morgue

[coca-lastic]

Here For You | F. Odair

Summary: Finnick takes care of you when you're on your period

Tw: Menstruation, insecurities, boyfriend!Finnick, stress

A/N: I'm sorry if the representation of menstruation in this story doesn't match your personal experience, normally my fics are created from thoughts I have myself. My first language is not English, so if there is an error I would appreciate it if you could tell me <3

Second day waking up in sheets completely stained with blood. Cursing yourself for not having put darker colored sheets, gray wasn't enough, it seemed.

Normally when you're on your period all you want to do is literally do nothing. You just get up, eat whatever you have in the refrigerator for breakfast, sleep or watch a movie until lunchtime arrives, order something to eat and continue watching series and movies while eating chocolate.

Definitely everything you wanted. But not today. Finnick had invited you for a morning walk for over a week. Apparently he bought you some gifts.

Finnick is too sweet to cancel his plans. So you started to get ready, starting with a hot shower to dull the pain, or at least that's what you wanted because it turned out to be completely useless.

Getting out of the shower you start dressing with the first thing you packed. Of course, you didn't expect to finish dressing, look in the mirror and completely beg for your reflection.

What was the point of showering and getting ready if the result would still be negative?

You hated thinking like that, inside you knew that it was part of the symptoms of menstruation but...what if it wasn't?

Maybe if you looked bad, maybe those clothes didn't flatter you, or maybe the makeup was too little and didn't cover all your imperfections.

How the fuck could you see your boyfriend looking so bad?

First of all, how the fuck would he want to see you looking like that?

Normally you would keep thinking about it, over and over again until you destroy yourself. But not today. It was probably already late, there was no time to overthink. So you decided to look for other clothes.

But there wasn't. There were no clothes that fit you well, there were no clothes that could make your body look like the body you want to have, there are no clothes that can cover those details that you hate so much.

Some tears began to leak from your eyes, you tried to hold them back. It wasn't time to cry. Not today.

But it was difficult, it was difficult to try to contain your thoughts when you always felt that even the smallest thing was against you.

When you finally found some pants that might fit you and tried to put them on, you realized that they were too big for you.

"I should eat more..."

"It should look better..."

No, not now, not today.

When you resumed your search for clothes you heard the doorbell ring in your house and all you wished was that it was a girl wearing something and not your boyfriend.

But no, because today everything was against you.

You walked towards the living room, wearing pants that were too big for you and the shirt from the first outfit, looking terrible.

You opened the door a crack, allowing only your face to be seen. And there he was. How did he manage to look so good at all times? He didn't have to wear many things to look perfect, he didn't have to cover up imperfections to be satisfied, he didn't have to search for almost half an hour until he could make him look handsome.

"Hi hon- hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?" His face changed in a single second, it went from one of his perfect, bright smiles to a worried face. Great, you couldn't even keep his happiness intact from him.

"Yeah...I'm fine" you said with your voice a little raspy and broken by the tears you had shed recently. "You're early, what a miracle"

"Honey, I'm 20 minutes late," Finnick commented, his worried face analyzing how little of your body was visible.

"Oh really?" When had time passed so quickly? Maybe when you were in the middle of your emotional crisis, but you didn't remember crying for so long... or maybe you did but you didn't want to admit it. "I'm sorry Finn, I'm not ready yet. Wait for me in the living room, I'll be ready in about 10 minutes" You opened the door a little more to allow him to enter. You were quite ashamed of how you currently looked so as soon as he entered your house you wanted to run to your room to continue with the shit you were doing.

But he grabbed your hand and made you turn to him "Hey love, what's wrong?" “He said in the most caring and loving voice possible, making you feel guilty.

"It's nothing Finnick, I was just a little stressed..."

"Love, if you want to stay home that's fine, and you don't have to keep the stress to yourself. You know I'm here for you when you need a shoulder to cry on." Stay at home? After Finnick has been planning this damn ride for like 2 weeks? Of course not.

"Finnick, I'm fine, and I don't need to cry, it's not that serious, let me go get dressed..."

"Love, your eyes are red and your makeup is a little smudged, don't lie to me. You know that I care about you and if you cry it's okay, it's normal, but don't hold back, talk to me"

"Finnick, I'm fine. I- I was just a little stressed, the walk is going to help me." Of course not, the walk has only caused more stress than menstruation normally brings.

"Honey...I won't bother if you want us to stay."

"Why the hell do you keep insisting so much on staying?! Let's go on the damn ride you've been wanting so much and that's it!" You said desperately, releasing yourself from his grip and walking quickly towards your room.

The tears returned to your eyes. You sat on the floor to continue looking for the right clothes in the mountain of things you had made on the floor. Now not only were you a mess, but your room too.

You rummaged through the clothes but there was nothing. Why the fuck wasn't there anything that made you look pretty?

The pain in your belly began to get stronger when you began to cry. You knew that stress would only make the pain worse, but it wasn't easy to stop it when you knew you had to do something quickly.

You brought your two hands to your belly when you had a very strong pain and simply let the few tears you had managed to contain come out. Tears were streaming down your face, you felt your makeup ruining more than it already was. Everything around you felt like a complete disaster, a cold, stressful mess.

"Love..." Finnick knelt next to you, since when had he been here?

In the middle of the cold environment around you, his arms surrounded you, giving you a comforting warmth, a warmth so beautiful and special. He rubbed the top of your back, giving you silent support. But that didn't stop the pain in your belly.

"Finn... It hurts so much" You whimpered as you put your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"What? What hurts you love?" He separated from you a little to examine your body in search of any bruises or cuts. His worried eyes analyzed you.

You didn't let him finish examining you perfectly, you didn't like him getting away, in fact he didn't even stop hugging you, but he walked away. So you pressed him against you again. "My belly...damn, I hate seeing a woman"

“Oh honey…” he continued rubbing his hands on your back. Your statement explained a lot of things and also gave him a clue as to what he could do to calm you down.

Finnick stood up while still hugging you. At the sudden movement you wrapped your legs around his torso. You looked like a koala, hugging him so tightly.

"Hold on tight, pretty girl." He started walking, so you braced your legs a little more around him. You couldn't see where he was going, but when you heard drops of water falling on the floor, you realized he brought you to the bathroom.

But he didn't bring you to take a shower. He grabbed the towel you normally use to dry your hands and dipped it in the hot water from the shower. Then he took you to bed and tried to lay you down, but you didn't want to let go, you were comfortable and after a morning full of stress and pain you didn't want to let go of the comfort.

"Come on love, the towel will help you"

You ignored him, you didn't really want to argue. He put you in a comfortable position and he put the hot towel on your stomach, helping to soothe the pain in a very satisfying way.

"Fucking god..." You sighed with a smile at the satisfaction of the pain subsiding.

"I'll make you some tea and bring you some pills, okay?"

"Finn...no, it's not necessary. Seriously, you wanted to go for a walk with me for days"

"Love, forget that stupid walk. I wanted to spend time with you, not time with the walk" He gave your nose a brief kiss and stood up "The walk was just an extra to the main goal" You followed his steps and tried to get up, but his hand on your arms didn't let you. "Hey, hey, what do you think you're doing?

"Finnick, the room and I are a mess, look at that mountain of clothes, I need to pick them up" He opened his mouth to protest but you interrupted him. "And look at my makeup, it will cause irritation if I don't take it off right now."

"You stay in bed, I'll do it. I can take off your makeup and, if you promise me you'll take off your makeup and stop thinking about the stupid walk, then I'll clean your room." He raised his pinky finger like a little child, hoping you would reciprocate his treatment.

He watched for a few seconds, considering how lucky he had been to find him. And the bad luck he had had in finding you.

"Ok... But I owe you something" you raised your pinky and wrapped it around his, causing him to laugh happily.

"Perfect. I'll bring the makeup remover, then I'll make the tea and bring the pill, ok?"

"Perfect"

He ran away like a child who wants to pour a glass of water from his mother in less than a minute. A few seconds later he came with everything he needed to remove the mess on my face. He did it gently, with a delicacy that I don't even use when removing my makeup.

"Ready, first task finished" And as a sign that he finished it, he gave you a brief weight on your lips before running away again, this time next to the towel that was on your belly previously, it was already cold so he decided to return. to warm it up.

On his next arrival he brought you the towel, the pill, a glass of water and another kiss to mark the completion of the task.

And for the last time he left, leaving you quite relaxed, but there were still traces of stress. The room was a mess and being alone in your room the thoughts didn't stop.

Until he arrives again, he is there with a cup of tea and some gift boxes.

"For my beautiful girl, he is the owner of my heart and the only person I clean the room for," he said, handing me the boxes and placing the cup on the table next to the bed. "These are the gifts I wanted to give you, but open them when I'm done cleaning, I want to see your reaction" and there it was, the kiss that declared the gift-giving completed. The kiss was a soft, loving, warm kiss. It made you feel complete, forget about those insecurities that wouldn't let you in peace and from the stress that was kept in your head.

After the kiss Finnick started to pick up the clothes. It took about half an hour to clean up your mess, but he did it. Meanwhile you only see it while you drink your tea. He knew how to make your tea, he knew how to make you happy, how to comfort you, how to cheer you up, he was so perfect.

And you just wish you were as perfect for him as he is for you.

"What's wrong love?"

"Oh, are you done cleaning?"

"Yes, my lady, is there anything else I can please you with?" He gave an acted bow, causing you to giggle lightly.

"No Finn, thank you, you've done enough" You said kissing him, to mark the last task completed.

"I guess now I can fulfill my goal of being with you" he lay down next to you, looking directly into your eyes, seeing you with love, with admiration, with affection. "You are so Beautiful".

And those words hit right in the center of your heart. They were such easy words to say, words that he said to you often, but now they have a different impact because after long hours of thinking of yourself as a total disaster, those words were simply gold to you.

"Are you sure about that? I...Finnick, I don't have a beautiful body. Today I tried to wear these damn pants and they are too big on me and this- this shirt makes me look bad, and- and I've cried like a little girl since that you arrived" Your tears accumulated in your eyes again and you just wanted to repress them there, so that they wouldn't come out.

"My love, don't be mad at me but that's one of the dumbest things I've heard this year. You- Honey I don't even know how to explain how beautiful you are. You don't even have to follow a beauty standard, you are the standard. Even crying you look like the most beautiful person on the entire fucking planet. And probably if I could read my thoughts every time I see you, you would never say things like that."

"But Finn I-"

"No buts, you're beautiful," He began to kiss every part of you, starting with your hands, then he got on top of you without crushing you, he moved the hot towel a little and kissed your belly, then he went up a little higher and kissed near your navel, then he went up to your breasts and, although he did not kiss them so as not to change the warm atmosphere, he passed his lips over the area, creating a ghost effect, he kissed your collarbone, he kissed your neck until he left a mark, he kissed your jaw, he kissed your nose, your ears, your eyes, your forehead, your head, and finally, your lips, he kissed them delicately, and with love. "Fuck, you saying you're not beautiful and me thinking how someone can just exploit the word beauty and be more than that."

"I love you so much Finnick" You said with cries of happiness, love and warmth escaping your eyes "I love you so much"

"I love you too, my love, more than I ever thought I could love." And with that he gave you a kiss on your lips, marking the end of the real task, making you happy. "The gifts, open them."

You got up a little to sit down and grabbed the 3 boxes, one of them was quite large, the other was a medium-sized box, maybe the size of a shoe wedge, and the third was quite small.

You started with the big one, seeing a lot of goodies inside. Chocolates, gummies, cookies. Everything he knew you liked

"Oh Finn, thank you very much. I'll probably eat all the chocolates today" you said looking at him mischievously like a little girl. He just imitated your position and he smiled at you.

You opened the second box, they were books. Your complete favorite damn saga, including the ones you haven't read. You looked at him surprised, your look said more than any thank you you could say. "Finnick, I love you, you're incredible" you said with impressive seriousness, making him laugh.

"Open the third one, it's the best"

You opened the third box, the smallest. And for a few seconds you were just left processing the information, with tears threatening to come out. With happiness overflowing from your heart. And for a moment you thought it was a dream, so you turned to Finnick, waiting for him to confirm or deny your suspicions.

"Will you marry me?"

And at that very moment you realized that nothing would make you happier than marrying him.

"Yes, oh my god, of course!" and you jumped into his arms crying and thinking that you were acting like a girl again.

Until you moved away so you could kiss him and you realized that he was just as happy as you, with teary eyes and a smile so beautiful that you kept it forever in your memory.

"Fuck, I was extremely nervous, I think my heart stopped for a moment" he said laughing more, staring into your eyes, eyes as teary as his own.

And you stuck your lips to his, swearing that you were going to be as perfect for him as he is for you and you were going to do everything he had done for you.

I literally improvised the marriage proposal so I don't know if it's shit or it turned out well, but I hope you enjoyed it <3

Finnick Odair watching Snow's death be like:

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Outbreak Pt 3 (LU in Healthcare)

(Content warning, this is a plague fic, it will likely hit close to home, and there’s dark humor and character death in this part)

It started off as a whisper, but the whisper became a chatter, a groan, constant and disturbing and growing ever closer.

Cases were on the rise in the city, though the surrounding area seemed unaffected still, for now. City officials were growing concerned, and restrictions were starting to be enacted. People were asked to stay home, if possible. As for the hospital and squads…

Hyrule squinted at his email. "Wait. Didn't... didn't they say we could use alcohol wipes to clean the equipment?"

"Yeah," Mo called from the kitchenette in the station.

"Now it says we can only use bleach wipes."

Mo groaned. "Isn't that like the third policy change this week?"

"I'm still trying to figure out if we're doing a specific isolation truck or not anymore," Aurora mumbled. "Like we just had one truck dedicated to the high risk iso cases, and now we're getting so many calls for it that it's a moot point anyway."

"I think the last email said put plastic over everything for Arfy patients and then wipe everything down that you use," Mo replied.

"Wait, which email?"

Hyrule sighed. This was getting ridiculous. And he was getting just a little nervous. “When in doubt, just bleach everything, I guess.”

Aurora huffed. “Did you see the email about the respirators?”

“Which email?” Mo threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “I’ve got twenty new emails!”

“I suppose that means you’ll actually have to read them now,” Aurora noted with a snort.

“Do you all think it’ll get worse before it gets better?” Dawn asked, wringing her hands worriedly. “The OMD made it sound like that would be the case.”

“Our medical director knows more than I do,” Hyrule shrugged. “If he says it’s going to get worse—”

“No, he didn’t just say that, he said ‘it’s not a matter of if the wave hits us, but when,’” Aurora quoted, standing. “He scared the hell out of Dawn.”

“They’re pretty foreboding words,” Hyrule commented darkly, looking away. It was the main reason he was getting nervous. But he was also steeling himself. If they were in for a fight, he would face it head on.

“Okay, but what does any of this have to do with the email about the respirators?” Mo asked as he scrolled frantically through his email.

“Oh, we’re supposed to wear N95s now,” Aurora answered with a wave of her hand.

Hyrule blinked. “Wait. Aren’t—aren’t we supposed to get fit tested for those?”

“Oh, yeah,” Aurora nodded, rolling her eyes. “Here’s your official fit test: pick a mask that fits.”

“We’re all going to die, aren’t we?” Dawn questioned worriedly, hugging herself.

“Nobody’s died from Arfy yet, I don’t think,” Mo noted. “At least not here.”

“People have died,” Aurora corrected.

“Well, maybe we’ll die, then,” Mo amended.

Hyrule laughed while Aurora swatted his partner. Well… at least they’d die fighting. But he really hoped it wouldn’t get to that point.

While the rescue squads struggled to keep up with policies and slapped shoddy safety regulations into place, the hospital clamped down even further. Visitor policies had officially been revoked as of today, and it made all the providers somewhat uneasy.

In some aspects, it was helpful. In others, it made things that much harder.

Arfy patients were medical patients. Which meant the medical floor and ICU was quickly filling up while other parts of the hospital either maintained their quota or decreased as people stayed home. More and more, Four found himself floating to his friend’s ICU, and he felt fairly out of his depths about it. The one good thing was that he got to spend time with Dot. But as cases rose, so did the stress, the worry, and the heartache.

The ICU felt less like a unit where critically ill people got better and more like a place to go to die.

Four and Dot had the same patient assignment for four days in a row. It was the same assignment because nothing had changed with the patients. Intubated, sedated, paralyzed, some proned. The amount of sedation required to keep their patients under was far more than Four was used to, and it was insane how little it would take for their oxygen saturation to drop. Any semblance of activity in the body increased oxygen demand, and the instant oxygen demand increased, no amount of intervention from the ventilator seemed to help. ECMO was a word Four had hardly heard in his trauma ICU, but he heard it on a near daily basis now, being considered at rounds, being initiated with someone else’s patient.

Four was exhausted. His face was breaking out from wearing a respirator for twelve hours at a time. His feet and knees and hips hurt from standing in isolation rooms for three to four hours at a time trying to cluster all his care. And now, with the visitor restriction enacted…

Visitors were hit or miss, particularly in Four’s world. Trauma precipitated drama, and while family could be infinitely helpful and supportive, he’d also seen things go awry, had to deescalate fights or call security. In some aspects, he was thankful there were no visitors while all of this was happening; he was tired of having to explain that yes, you have to wear this gown and gloves and mask, no you can’t kiss your loved one while they’re intubated and sedated with a contagious disease… but still. He couldn’t imagine how hard it was on the family - the patients were sedated to the point that they shouldn’t be aware of anything, but the family had to agonize over the matter at home.

He didn’t like it. He understand the logic. But he didn’t like it.

And so here he sat, holding a patient’s hand while they withdrew care. Here he sat, being the only witness to someone’s last breaths while their family mourned from afar.

Four watched the heart rate steadily drop. He watched the oxygen saturation plummet. He muted the red alarms as the monitor screamed that his patient was dying, that something should be done, like an accusation and call to arms when Four knew this particular fight was over.

He wasn’t a particularly religious person, but he said a prayer for the patient and the family either way. He found himself praying a lot these days, honestly.

While the visitor policy took its toll inside the frame of work, the restrictions both inside and outside the hospital were causing further stress on everyone. Warriors had basically banned Wind from seeing him, opting to stay with Time and Malon instead, leaving the kid in the apartment. He brought food deliveries to the door, asked if Wind needed anything, but he always did so when Wind wasn’t awake - the teenager had swore up and down that if anybody got Arfy he’d take care of them, and Warriors was terrified of that promise as it was basically a threat. Time agreed that Wind didn’t need to get involved, much to the teenager’s chagrin, and Wind found himself already struggling from the loneliness and the frustration of trying to study for classes online when nobody knew what they were doing or how long this would last.

Meanwhile, Wild sat in his room, fingers aimlessly tracing over each other, the smell of bleach so fresh in his nose from scrubbing everything relentlessly for hours on end that he might as well have inhaled a bottle of it. His chest hurt. Not to mention that new disinfectant they were told to use made him cough a lot.

And he worried. Because… it had been a few days since he’d seen his father. Legend had given him updates through his sister (and made Wild swear not to tell anyone about her), and it had sounded like he was improving as expected. But now, he… the rest of the family…

It felt like a blessing and a curse. It was a guarantee that Wild couldn’t run into his mother or sister by accident, but it was also a situation that his mind screamed that he address.

He couldn’t just… he couldn’t just leave his father isolated and alone recovering in the hospital in the midst of an outbreak. He couldn’t.

But what if visiting him made things so much worse? What if it stressed his father’s recovering heart? What if it triggered more traumatic memories for Wild? He was terrified of getting anywhere near the man while he was awake, but his heart screamed that he go to him.

Wild refused to be a coward. And he refused to be heartless, despite how anxious this entire situation made him, despite how his mind screamed he keep away. So that night, when he got on to work, he took a delivery to the cardiovascular ICU and paused in front of a doorway, looking hopefully for a familiar nurse.

“Link? Wild?”

Jumping, Wild turned around to see the nurse in question, watching him scrutinously. She smiled (or at least, he assumed she did, based on how her eye crinkled above her mask) in recognition. “I thought it was you. You here to see your dad?”

Wild swallowed and nodded.

“Good, because the drama I’ve been trying to avoid has been driving me insane,” Legend’s sister said lightheartedly, but despite the casualness of her tone, the words sank into Wild’s stomach like a stone.

“Drama?” He questioned quietly.

“Nothing like… bad, I suppose, but still,” the nurse explained. “I’d be in there taking care of him and overhear him talking to his wife and he’d mention that he swore he saw you. I’m not entirely sure she’s convinced. She seems hopeful, though. But I figured it was best not to bring it up myself since I, ah, don’t know what’s going on.”

Wild felt his blood freeze. His father remembered? And he’d told his mother?

Great. This was… this was just great.

“Go see him,” Legend’s sister prompted gently. “I can tell he loves you very much and just wants to know you’re ok.”

Wild’s eyes unexpectedly burned with tears in an instant, and he was grateful he was wearing a mask to hide his expression. He nodded, hesitantly making his way towards the room.

It all seemed so normal, seeing his father sitting in a recliner looking at his phone. Wild wasn’t even entirely sure he’d recovered memories of his father like that, but somehow it seemed familiar. Abel hadn’t noticed him yet, engrossed in whatever he was looking at, brow slightly furrowed. That expression drew memories, a familiar scrutiny that he would often give Wild himself or his sister, a quiet concern and sternness that made Wild want to stiffen up and simultaneously run to him.

Damn it all, he’d missed him.

Wild swallowed his fears and stepped forward, hoping that this wouldn’t be a disaster. He knocked on the door, initially so quietly that his father didn’t hear him over the chatter of the news on the television. He knocked again.

His father looked up. Stared a moment. Went a shade paler.

Wild hastily stepped forward. “W-wait, don’t get worked up—”

His father stood, seeming mostly steady on his feet, and tried to walk to him, heedless of the cords and oxygen tubing attached, and Wild hastily met him part of the way before he ripped everything out of the wall. Abel immediately pulled him to his chest in the tightest hug Wild had ever felt, and…

And Link sank into the embrace, crying.

[qtubpol]

i wonder if theres a word limit for this thing. cuz i wrote a poly morning crew fic of them all kissing and i wish to offer it to you to read like a little orphan child on the street offering up a penny to a rich man

Tubbo sank down as far as he could into the seat he was currently sitting in. In front of him were both Pac and Fit, staring at him with different expressions but equally piercing gazes. Distantly he could hear Bagi laughing as she watched the kids while the three of them talked. 

“Tubbo,” Fit said gently in that low rough voice of his. God it was irritating. Tubbo smacked both of his hands over his face and dragged them down unceremoniously. “We want to talk about what happened today.” 

“No idea what you’re talking about!” Tubbo said in the most fake sounding voice he had ever heard, even to his own ears. He cringed, dropping his hands back into his lap to fiddle with his toolbelt. 

“You teleported me out while we were on our date,” Pac said simply. Not angrily. Not upset. Just stating a fact. Tubbo hated how he was acting like he wasn’t upset. Because obviously he was. Right? 

“That was Bagi!” Tubbo defended. “I didn’t do anything! I wanted you guys to have your lovely date undisturbed!” 

“And we did,” Fit affirmed. “But now we are back and we want to talk to you.” 

Tubbo squirmed in his seat. “About what? Nothing to talk about.” 

Pac laughed a little at that and Tubbo sent him a withering glare. “Tubbooo. No. Don’t be mad at me.” He stood up taking a few steps to close the distance and fling himself over Tubbo, head atop his and arms crossed over Tubbo’s chest. It felt warm and safe and to be quite frank it scared the everloving shit out of him. Through the embrace he hesitantly watched Fit, expecting at any moment a cloud of jealousy to fall over his features. They were something else now. Something that didn’t involve Tubbo. But that didn’t happen. Instead, to his utter surprise, Fit smiled at him. 

“Tubbo. We see right through you, you know that right? But the thing is,” he continued. “You don’t have to worry. Our dynamic here-” he gestured between the three of them as Tubbo felt Pac hum against his skull, “-isn’t going to change. Tubbo, you matter to us.” 

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and he quickly tried to reach up to brush them away but somehow Fit was up out of his seat and beating him to it. His warm non-metal hand now lay flat against Tubbo’s cheek looking deep into his eyes. Tubbo resisted the urge to squirm under the intensity of the gaze. 

“Me and Pac are always gonna be here for you and Sunny okay? Always. We're family.” After a moment's hesitation he leaned in to press a kiss between Tubbo's furrowed eyebrows. 

Tubbo braced himself for Pac to get angry. To shove him away and start screaming at Fit. Once again this did not happen. Fit just smiled at him then up at Pac who squeezed Tubbo tighter and pressed a matching kiss to the top of his head. “You don't have to pretend with us,” Pac said, finally releasing his grip to walk around him and stand next to Fit in front of him. “You were welcome at our date. Always are, right Fitch?” 

Fit nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes exactly Pac.” 

Pac directed a smug smile at Tubbo. “See? You worry for no reason. Everything is good.” 

A stone of guilt and worry still lay heavy in Tubbo's chest but he tried to ignore it and give them a hesitant smile. “Yeah everything's good.” He wasn't sure if he was annoyed or relieved that they both saw through him immediately. 

Fit sighed. “What can we do to prove it to you?” 

Tubbo squirmed, trying to avoid eye contact. “Nothing, it's all fine. You guys you know go on dates and kiss and be gay and I'll stay here and it'll be fine.” 

Fit let out a deep sigh and oh there it was. Tubbo knew he was a burden he fucking knew it. His train of thought was thrown off as Pac laughed. “Oh so you wanna kiss and be gay with us hm?” 

Tubbo glanced up in surprise to suddenly see Pac right up in his face, deep big brown eyes staring into him. Full of so much joy. Happiness directed at him? Tubbo could hardly believe it but before he could even open his mouth to say anything along the lines of no, Pac grabbed his face gently and kissed him. It was soft and warm and surprising. And very much wanted. 

Without thinking Tubbo let himself reach up to cup Pac's cheek as they kissed, Pac giggling all the while against his lips. Their mouths moved together in a way that felt incredibly natural and normal. Fit laughed at their earnestness and a jolt of fear struck like lightning through Tubbo's body as he pulled back frantically. 

“Fit. I-” Aren't trying to make a move on your man? Am just as confused as you? He wasn't quite sure what he was going to say. 

“It's okay,” Fit soothed. “It's okay. Tubbo, I'm not mad at you right now.” He laughed again. “If anything I should be upset at Pac. He was the one who kissed you after all.” 

“You'd never be mad at me,” Pac teased with an easy grin, rocking back on his heels. 

Fit rolled his eyes fondly at him. “Sure Pac, sure.” 

Tubbo had absolutely no idea what to say so he defaulted to his usual humor. “So you aren't gonna kiss me, Fit? I see how it is. Is it because I'm blonde I bet it's-” he was cut off abruptly by different hands on his face. Rougher ones. A warrior's hands. His lips were surprisingly soft in comparison. Fit was so much more hesitant then Pac, so so gentle. Reaching for his shirt collar, Tubbo dragged him in closer, enjoying the noise of pleasant surprise that Fit made against his lips. Distantly he could hear Pac giggling. 

Eventually they pulled apart, Fit panting slightly and Tubbo became incredibly aware of the dumbass grin gracing his face. The worries and fears were still there, a few kisses weren't going to fix years of trauma but this was nice. “You guys are stupid,” he said instead but he could tell they knew what he meant. 

“You want us to kiss you more often?” Pac teased. “Give kisses to our boy before we go on our dates.” 

Tubbo shouldn't admit it. “Yes,” he said nearly against his will but he was glad he said it. 

“Okay then,” Fit said as if it solved everything. It didn't. But it helped. “You're our guy. Always have been, always will be.” 

Tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes again but he refused to let them fall. He sniffed. “Cool okay um can we get back to the kids now?” 

Fit and Pac both laughed before agreeing with him simultaneously. 

“Yes, of course.” 

“Sim, yes.” 

So that was it. Not a solution to the anguish in his stomach that threatened to eat him alive but some reassurance. He just had to accept it. 

oh fantastic. here you go op. also in my defense... its not that good cuz i havent slept. i in fact pulled an all nighter while writing this so yeah its the best i can do on absolutely no sleep

i would die for you.

[uhohbestie]

TAMN Outline

Since we're so close to the end of TAMN, I just wanted to share what Lock and my outline looks like, especially because neither of us ever used outlines for writing fic before this LOL

The only reason we have one for TAMN is because we were determined to finish this thing within a year of starting it and really wanted to post a chapter a week. Realistically, between work and irl and different timezones, there was no WAY we'd be able to keep up with a weekly posting schedule OR our self-imposed deadline if we were writing on the fly, so an outline was a good way to keep us on track.

(Details under the cut 'cause this got long af lmao)

SO FIRST OF ALL. We have quick chapter markers to refer to just to keep track of where we're at. The obvious ones are as follows:

🐈 Scar POV Chapters 🦜 Grian POV Chapters 🧟‍♂️ Some sort of significant zombie encounter that chapter 💦 Smut

I took this screenshot a WHILE back so Chapter 12 was actually split into 2 chapters, as was Chapter 14. So while the two emojis in Chapter 14 were meant to signify both Scar and Grian's POVs in that chapter, we ultimately just split it into a separate Scar chapter and a separate Grian chapter.

As for the other markers, this is what they mean at a glance:

✔️ Chapter is written ✔️✔️ Chapter has been edited by one person ✅ Chapter edited by both of us; Ready to Post 💯 Chapter has been posted to AO3

The last one isn't in the screenshot above, but is another one we use. And, ofc, if it doesn't have any of those markers beside it, it means the chapter hasn't been written yet.

Other than that, every chapter heading has not only the chapter number, but a reminder of where Scarian are, the time of day that chapter starts at, and how long of a walk/drive to their next destination remains. Plus, the very first point is always the current date and the weather (in Celsius 🍁) for the day. It looks something like this:

For a short chapter like Ch. 6 where not too much happens, the outline is just a handful of points. Also, we put a strike through things we skipped as we wrote when we felt they no longer fit the mood we were going for. (Basically, the outline is here as a guide and we adjust as needed for full creative freedom.)

Now the LINKS at the bottom lead to ANOTHER document where Lock and I's original conversations are sorted, in case we need to reference back to something we don't remember. That looks like something like this:

So when you click the link, there's a pop up that will take you directly to the original conversation about it located in another doc.

Basically, Lock and I had talked about TAMN for months before every writing it, so when I suggested making an outline, Lock was like "yeah, we basically have a skeleton already with how much we've talked about it". So what we did was, I copy-pasted EVERY conversation we had about TAMN into a Google Doc, and then Lock went through and SUMMARISED EVERYTHING in each conversation into The Main Points. After that, I went and put them into chronological order in a new doc which then became the outline we use today! 💫

Thus, when you click on a link from the outline, you get taken to the conversation summary, and if you scroll down past the summary you get to the actual conversation itself, minus our usernames/formatting/timestamps to make it easier to read at a glance:

And then, ofc, the further along we got in the fic, the more complicated the plot and the chapters got. So instead of short and sweet outlines with a link or two to old conversations, we had to come up with a lot of in between events that still somehow added to the plot and moved the story along to the main points we wanted to hit.

This was actually what took me the longest during outlining, and poor Lock kept going "JUST LEAVE IT BLANK, WE'LL FIGURE IT OUT AS WE GO" but I really wanted to have SOMETHING down just to give us a springboard to launch off of, because we had no idea if we'd have time WHILE writing to come up with anything.

(This continues on for more pages since we combined two chapters into one here, but this is the gist of what the outlines turned into per chapter as we got later and later in the fic LOL)

Turned out to be the right call, because it's saved our asses more than once when on a time-crunch! That said, there were a couple chapters where we DID in fact go "idk about what's in the outline, what if we do this instead?" and then do that because it Felt Right. So again, the outline was super helpful but not a hard and fast rule. (Though Lock and I had our fair share of "WHY DIDN'T YOU WRITE WHAT WAS IN THE OUTLINE"/"I FORGOR" moments that have been fun every step of the way 😂)

AAAND, I THINK THAT'S IT! THAT'S OUR OUTLINE! 🎉

Just wanted to make a post for it to document because it was such a novel experience, hahaha! Like I said earlier, neither Lock nor I ever used outlines before, even when writing fics together for other fandoms :')

I've got two completed longfics under my belt from before TAMN in my last fandom and I wrote those completely on the fly as well. Worked out just fine, but like. It took me 2-4 YEARS to finish the fics, and they were both MUCH shorter than TAMN is. 😅 Nothing wrong with that obviously, but it was a lot of fun to try something new and it felt incredible to be able to have a new chapter ready to go each week! ;w; 💜

We're almost done writing the fic and honestly idk what we're gonna do with all this free time once we've wrapped it up... time to come up with a new longfic ig LMAO

IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR, HOORAY! 🎊

Here's a little bonus for you--

From the time I went to a gun range and shot both a rifle (near the head) and a shotgun (the spray by the stomach) and took notes so that we could use it in our fic JHGFDSKJHDF THE CRAZY RESEARCH WE'VE BOTH DONE FOR TAMN I STG 😂😂😂😂😂

[i-am-too-sick]

Feeling Not So Jolly St. Nick

Did I start another new fic without finishing the last two I mentioned? You bet I did! But I actually finished this one, so here ya go!

Warning: implied food poisoning

This was the last time Toby didn't anything out of the goodness of his heart.

Sure, he got paid for it, and the second income was nice for the holidays, but there had to be other ways than volunteering to be a mall Santa.

He loved kids, or at least he thought he did, but he learned quickly that maybe that love extended only towards his little sister.

These kids—these kids were like wild animal at the zoo or literal hellions from the underworld. The crying and screaming and questioning and demanding things of him soon became more cumbersome than it was worth.

Today was exceptionally bad, because on top of everything else, Toby felt like absolute shit.

The mall was crowded with everyone trying to fit in their last minute shopping, and of course, have their kids take a picture with Santa.

Toby felt like he was suffocating. His suit was much too hot, and the fake beard prickled his skin uncomfortably. Having a kid sit on his lap only reaffirmed how sensitive his skin was and sent chills down his spine.

His food court lunch sat heavy in his gut and every hug from an innocent tyke threatened to send his orange chicken and rice pouring into his lap. He knew it had tasted funny, but the idea of finishing his shift without a meal seemed far worse at the time than the possible consequences of soiled food. Of course, he sorely regretted that decision now:

One little girl, very attuned to Santa's predicament, actually asked him if he was okay. Toby, in an attempt at a hearty chuckle, quickly brought a fist to his lips and stifled a nauseated burp.

That was the turning point.

Right after the little girl hopped off his lap, he wished her a rather lame Merry Christmas, and signaled that he needed a break.

The photographer did not show their frustration well—after all, they'd just breaked for lunch not long ago—but Toby figured they'd be even more upset if he ruined the magic of Christmas by vomiting all over himself in front of the entire mall. Now wouldn't that be the perfect Christmas picture?

He slipped into the nearest employee bathroom, ripped the fake beard from his face, and immediately started gagging. However, other than some acidic saliva and burps that tasted vaguely of Mountain Dew, Toby wasn't able to bring anything up. It seemed that whatever was curdling the inside of his stomach was content to stay there and make him miserable.

Groaning, he splashed some cold water on his face, donned his disguise, and headed back into the mall. One of the photographers helpers, dressed like an elf, manhandled his askew beard back into its proper place, while Toby readied himself to fake some over the top holiday cheer.

An hour passed, or maybe more. Time was a construct Toby couldn't even begin to comprehend, especially not with the feeling of his stomach contents slowly trying to worm their way up his esophagus. Several times the photographer reminded him to sit up straight and to stop hunching forward. Toby was sure several families would look back on their Christmas photos and wonder why Santa had an arm wrapped protectively around his belly.

He'd stopped actually listening to the kids as they read from their Christmas lists, replying instead with a few well-placed "uh huhs" and "yeahs," though a couples times all that came out were sick groans.

He could not ever remember being this nauseous. He felt lightheaded from trying to keep himself together, and he was so unbearably warm. He wore his own clothes beneath the Santa suit, and his T-shirt was sticky with sweat, unpleasantly clinging against his skin.

How long was this shift again? He could hardly think, let alone try to pretend that he gave a damn about Timmy wanting a puppy or Susie requesting a baby doll that made noises when you cared for it.

"And I want a pony, and a..."

Toby's mouth started to water. Shit.

"I also want a..."

"Okay, very good," he replied, swallowing, trying to lift the kid from his lap. "Next!"

"But I'm not done," the kid pouted.

"But I am," Toby said. In hindsight, being a jerk while dressed as Santa was probably not doing this kid any favors, but he didn't have a choice. His breath hitched. He was about to barf. "Next!"

The surprised mom came to collect her kid, and Toby signaled the photographer by making a T with his hands.

"Again?" The photographer rolled their eyes, miffed.

Toby responded with a wet belch, loud enough that the nearest helper elf squeaked and jumped back in surprise.

He sprang up from his seat, his hand clamped over his mouth. In his haste to escape Winter Wonderland, he nearly tripped on a string of Christmas lights, nearly impaling himself on the antler of a plastic reindeer.

He tore through the mall, finding the closest bathroom, for employees or not. He stumbled upon one of the family ones, and as he slammed the door shut and fumbled with the lock, he was grateful for the small bit of privacy he'd have.

Even as he felt his stomach begin to lurch, he started ripping off his costume, desperate to feel less strangled. The hat went first, then the beard, the sash around his waist. He just managed to pull his second arm out of the jacket sleeve when his cheeks puffed with an impending retch, and he angled himself over the toilet as a rush of vomit cascaded from his mouth.

The force of his heave was so great, that his vomit splattered all around the rim of the toilet. He barely had time to wonder if any landed on his shoes before another geyser shot from him, splashing loudly into the water.

He tasted soda and egg roll, fried rice and broccoli. His mouth was sticky with the sauce from his orange chicken.

He burped, chunks from his undigested lunch joining the thick slurry in the bowl. Every heave brought up a mouthful of sick, and he was dizzy from the effort of trying to catch his breath.

His stomach was making all kinds of noises, piercing his ears and echoing off the tiled bathroom walls. A sick, guttural belch erupted from him, followed by another torrent of vomit.

Even as the heaves began to space out enough for him to catch his breath, and the amount of sick he brought up became less and less, Toby still didn't feel any better.

He was shaky and warm all over, tears running down his face from exertion. He was almost certain he had a fever, and there was still a mess churning in his stomach.

He burped into the bowl, spitting the tendrils of saliva dangling from his lips.

He needed to go home. He needed Quinn.

He knew his boyfriend had gone home for the holidays—Toby had planned to return to his family as well after his Santa gig—but the thought of waiting in the cold, getting on a bus overcrowded with holiday shoppers, and then trying to make it home alone in this condition was far more than he could bear.

Not caring the least about germs in that moment, Toby set his phone on speaker and laid it down on the floor. He felt like he was going to be sick again and he didn't want to risk dropping his phone and then having to fish it out of the toilet. That thought alone made him gag again.

"Quinn..." he whimpered when his boyfriend picked up on the third ring. He hated how teary and nauseous his voice sounded. "Can you come pick me up?"

[not-alien-girl-v]

more frat kyle or frankenkyle idec i love both maybe just some fluff or whatever u feel like !!! i love ur fics 😫😫💞

warning: reader is drunk like really drunk, nausea but no throwing up, general party stuff yeah

note: writing this while watching asylum for the first time i’m gonna be real i haven’t seen it before. YES i know i changed tenses halfway through this but it’s 2am i’m not changing it

it had been hours since she first put on that skimpy black party dress, applied shades of pressed powder onto her clean skin, curled her lashes, tied her hair, did a coquettish twirl before her mirror for one last final look, then walked to the party a few blocks from her home.

the air was swirling in a most intoxicating fashion, music so loud she swore she saw the sound waves rippling down the packed halls and she felt at home, surrounded by drunk college kids, she fit right in, seeing as she was getting an undergraduate degree in some random major she had no idea how she was going to make a career out of, and the fact that she, too, had intentions to become drunk as fuck.

she doesn’t get drunk often, that’s one thing for sure. when kyle invites her to these types of parties, he goes all boyfriend mode and insists she stay sober so she can keep herself safe and he won’t have to spend all night looking after her while he has a whole frat house of men he has to do so with already.

but tonight, kyle had a pounding headache, likely due from the hours upon hours on top of hours with a side of hours à la mode he spent studying for his final exams of the semester, along with the actual stress of taking said exams. it was all over as of today, and some are choosing to celebrate via a party, but kyle would much rather get a solid nights rest.

he makes it maybe 3 hours into a good nap before awaking for no reason whatsoever, headache dissolved, but mouth dryer than the sahara desert itself, so he leaves the comfort of his warm bed to fetch himself a glass of water.

one careful sip, feeling the water soothe his dry throat, and his phone begins to ring. with every bone, every fiber in his body, he doesn’t want to answer it, but something inside him tells him he better, and to his surprise, it’s her.

he’d be lying if he said a lovely feeling didn’t sprout in his stomach when he saw her name lighting up her phone, and he almost lets it ring too long, dumb smile staring at her name, but he does pick up in the end.

“hey baby you alright?” he always starts their phone calls off the same way, even if he’s the one who calls first. there’s something so sacred to him about enduring her safety before anything else in conversation with her. he tries to do everything in his power to show how much he cares.

“kyle?” one word from you is all it takes for him to be grabbing his keys and jacket off the dining room table. something about the slur in the word she spoke, the way it came across as a question, kyle figured she needed him right now. sometimes he wonders if he just really likes being needed.

“where are you right now, sweetheart?” the pet name and the familiar drawl informed her that her suspicions were correct, she was, in fact, speaking with the boy she loved, the boy who didn’t come to this party.

“at a party,” she hiccuped and stretched her arms out wide, hearing her joints crack and pop.

“awesome. can you tell me where?”

“maybe…” she laughed too hard at her own joke and his deafening silence made her uncomfortable so she gave in, mumbling something about a blue house and austin and will, two guys kyle knew who lived in a fraternity with blue painted walls.

when kyle arrived at the house, the party was mostly over, a few stragglers straggling about on the front yard straggedly, and the house wasn’t packed wall to wall like he assumed it once had been that same night.

it wasn’t hard finding her, she was lightly singing to herself while she kicked her legs back and forth childishly, sat atop the kitchen counter. her attention was diverted to the tired boy once he came in to her line of sight, however.

“hey handsome. can i buy you a drink?” he’s worried for a second she truly doesn’t recognize him, but when her arms open sluggishly to engage him in a drunken embrace, he pushed the thoughts aside.

“cute. come on, let’s get home, sweetie.” he takes advantage of her already open arms, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her, feeling her slump over the curve of his shoulder and her chin resting on his back slightly.

she’s yapping amongst herself the whole walk to the car, her small happy voice muffled by the cloth of his t-shirt. he approaches his car, setting her down on the ground to fumble around in his pockets for his car keys. meanwhile, she walks her body straight into his, crashing her face into his chest in a sloppy manner, not even bothering to hug him or anything, just pressing herself into him.

“did you know that i love you?” the inky black sky is lit up by only a few stars, a sign that the two were surrounded by city, and with it, dense light pollution that prevented them from ever seeing more than a few twinkling spots here and there once the sun sets.

the keys aren’t in his pants pockets, and frustrated, he tries his jacket pockets now. “yeah, i knew.” finally, feeling cold metal touch his searching fingers, he whips the keys out of the inner pocket of his coat, inserting it into the car door to unlock it and escape the cold night that was upon them tonight.

he opens the door for her, but when he turns to her to coax her into getting in, he is met with a teary eyed look on her intoxicated face.

“hey, what’s with the tears, huh?” he finds a gentle pace rubbing up and down her arms, half to comfort, half to warm up the goosebumps forming from the frosty air nipping at her more and more with every coming second.

“you didn’t say you love me back,” she uses the back of her hand to smudge away the hot, salty tears rolling down her cheeks.

from keeping her at arms length, he closes in the distance and pulls her into his chest, one hand on the back of her head to rub gently with his thumb. “i thought it was implied, my darling.”

his touch feels like a fuzzy blanket on a cold winter night, like petals of a flower blooming and blossoming to her hearts content in her mind, she leans into it to show her appreciation for his presence and ability to care about such trivial matters.

wordlessly, she breaks from him, letting herself into the car and managing to strap herself in successfully, and kyle almost feels proud, as if she normally doesn’t possess this ability.

she waits until kyle has started the car from his seat next to her to speak up again. “can you hold my hand?” she looks at him with tired eyes and he’s fairly certain he’d chop off his entire hand and eat it for dinner if she deemed it necessary.

he inwardly melts, nodding and grabbing her hand from the top of her thigh, giving three gentle squeezes in hopes to make up for his previous wrong.

“alright baby, let’s get you in bed now.” he’s suddenly appeared right next to her, outside the car with the door opened next to her, she must have fallen asleep; because if she remembers correctly, he had just started the car up, now he’s out, and they’ve reached a destination. she squints at the building before her through the window.

“this isn’t my house,” she states plainly as if perhaps he wasn’t aware of this and had made some fatal error.

“yeah, it’s my house. well, not just my house but i do live here.”

“why not my house?” he tosses her arms around his neck before lifting her into his firm hold. he wouldn’t dream of dropping her.

“i figured,” the front door is already unlocked, likely the doing of a forgetful roommate of kyle’s, but it saves him some trouble as he continues down to his bedroom, “since you know, you’re in love with me and stuff,” he kicks his bedroom door open, “that you’d be okay with having a sleepover.”

“i love sleepovers! can i paint your nails?” gently, she’s set down on his bed with care and he’s quick to potter about in his drawers with a chuckle.

“if you really want to, in the morning, sure.” he chucks a clean t shirt and some shorts she left in his room last night she was over at her figure on the bed. “put these on,” he doesn’t mean to sound so demanding, but he figures she doesn’t notice/care.

“can we call cute boys? oh em gee, we can ask them to rate us! how fun would that be?” she’s getting herself all riled up and giddy as he walks back to the bed, shooting her a conflicted look.

he imagines them huddled up around a telephone with a phone book in hand, giggling and dialing the numbers of boys from other frats. a humorous sight to fathom, but not a likely one. “maybe another day, baby?”

“whatever,” she puts on a faux valley girl accent once she finishes in putting on the clothes and now she’s laying down under the green blanket, onto the black sheets next to the boy. once she’s done a comical amount of tossing, turning, adjusting of her clothes, brushing hair out of her face, cracking her back and knuckles, she needily cuddles into her boyfriend, hugging his head into her chest like he usually does to her and holding him there firmly.

he’s pressed up against her boobs, so he’s not complaining, but he does have to turn his head to the side so he isn’t being suffocated by her love.

“you’re pretty cute. you’re a cute boy. give me a rating, cute boy,” she commands and misses the aggressive rolling of eyes he presents as she can’t look at his face.

“rating women is bad for their self esteem. as a young man, i should know better than to reduce a girl to cheap modern beauty standards. you said that, you know?” he tells her with admiration dripping from his words, each consonant soaked in love and happiness.

she laughs too loud for two people huddled up in a room alone. “ok, sure, you big ol’ feminist. you are cute though. you’re so cute. like really, really cute. why did they make you so cute?”

he sighs, not wanting to engage in her antics and hoping if he calms her words, she’ll be closer to falling asleep. his arms circle around to her back, “dunno, sweetie.”

she hums happily. “you called me sweetie.”

“mhm.”

“i like when you do that. hey, never stop doing that, okay? even when i’m old and ugly and crabby and not sweet anymore. please?” her drunken words hold much more weight to them than she imagines, and a pretty feeling sprouts in kyle’s stomach. just the thought alone that even drunk, she sees kyle and her together so far into the future is enough to stir up his insides with a metal whisk.

“promise, sweetie.”

she’s quiet for a good long while, and he cuddles into her more, enjoying the attention and intimacy of behind held like this. he loves her more than she’ll ever understand.

“which boob is your favorite, left or right?” she speaks her mind and it takes every mature bone in his body not to burst out laughing.

“i can’t choose, i love them both equally as much as i love you.”

“ok but if you had to choose just one?”

“i’d have to say probably left.”

“of course you would, you pig man. the left one is bigger. you’re gross.” he can’t help but giggle at her, he wonders if she knows how funny she can be sometimes.

“if i’m so gross, then why are we cuddling in my bedroom, huh?”

“beats me. i didn’t even get a say about coming here. in some books, this counts as a kidnapping.”

“are you gonna call the cops on me, baby?”

“nope. i have stock hole syndrome or something. i’m totally obsessed with you now.”

“good. i like how obsessed you are with me. makes me feel like less of a creep for being so obsessed with you,” he speaks more truth that she seems equipped to handle right now, but she takes it well.

“i bet i’m more obsessed. sometimes when you’re in class and i miss you, i put your hoodie on a pillow and cuddle it n stuff and i pretend it’s you.”

“wow, what a freak you are.”

“hey! at least pillow kyle is nice to me! he can’t even talk. i think i like that better. you should shut your big fat mouth once in a while.”

“if i couldn’t talk, how could i call you sweetie? does pillow kyle call you sweetie like i do?”

she sighs. “you got me there…”

“i have a folder in my phone full of pictures i took of you when you didn’t know i was. i look at them all the time just cuz you look so pretty in them.”

“aww, you think i’m pretty when i’m not looking?”

“i think you’re pretty all of the time.”

“you’re such a sap. you’re pretty too though, don’t worry.”

“i wasn’t worried. i already knew, all the boys round these parts tell me all the time,” he jokes.

“oh yeah? you’ve been getting busy in this house?” she sounds much more sober than she first was when she called him, not completely, however.

“you know it. i’m the hottest piece of ass in this house. just cuz we’re all into chicks doesn’t mean we don’t take advantage of that every now and then.”

“really?” she sounds too close to convinced, so he tears away from her cradle and gives her a silly look.

“no.”

she reaches up to brush some blond hair from his dark eyes and lets her hand linger while she traces absentmindedly across his facial features.

“you haven’t kissed me all night.”

“didn’t know if you wanted to be kissed, sweetie. i wait until you’re sober for consent, i’m cool like that.”

“kiss me.” she was the one who instructed him to do so, yet she’s the one who pulls his face into hers, pausing a moment before making contact, letting their lips just gently brush, then pressing them together sweetly.

[asimpforthe80s]

I Love You So Much, My Precious Boy

Starring: Supportive!Eddie x Transmasc!Reader

Warnings: fluff, phalloplasty, mastectomy, transgender reader getting a phalloplasty.

A/N: I'm genderfluid and today I've felt a lot like a boy, so I decided to write a transgender reader fic. It's a little short, but I'll probably make some more in June.

You had gotten a mastectomy a few months ago, and today was your phalloplasty. Eddie said he was gonna drive you there a little later, so now you were on your way to his trailer once again.

He had supported you through all of this, helped you get money, fixed your hair and everything in between. You were so happy he was your boyfriend and looked forward to later today.

When you arrived, you quickly went inside and hugged him. "Hey, baby."

"Hey, beautiful," Eddie said, smiling. "Ready to become the boy you want to be and take the next step?"

You nodded. "Definitely..!"

"Alright! So, I know it's a big day and we have to leave soon, but would you wanna like go shopping or do other fun stuff while we wait?"

"We can go clothing shopping?"

"Of course we can, and maybe later get some food. Just so it's not too dull." You nodded. "Sure."

"Cool, let's go get you some new clothes," Eddie said, offering to take your hand like a true gentleman. You chuckled and took his hand, walking out to his van.

Eddie led you into town. After a bit of a drive, he pulled into the parking lot at the mall, opening the door for you once you were there. "Such a gentleman." You joked, getting out of the passenger seat. "Oh, you know it," Eddie said, winking. "Now let's find you a nice outfit and some other fun things!" Eddie said, his excitement infectious. "Yeah!"

Eddie and you walked inside, going to the men's section first. Eddie handed you a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, saying "Here, try these on and see how you like them." You went into the changing rooms, soon coming out in the outfit. Eddie smiled, looking the outfit up and down and nodding in approval. "Nice! They fit you well. You like them?"

You were overly happy, feeling like this was so very right. "Yeah.. what aesthetic are these?"

Eddie looked at you, then at the clothes. "Well, the jeans are just regular old jeans, but I'd say... hm, maybe skater boy?" You looked at yourself in the mirror. "It feels.. feels like me.."

Eddie stepped over behind you. "I'm glad," he said, putting one arm around your waist. He leaned in and kissed you on the cheek. "I love you so much, you know that?"

"I love you more, baby," Eddie said, smiling at you as he looked at you in your new outfit.

"You think I can get it?" Looking down at the clothes, posing a little. "Hell yeah you can get it," Eddie said, looking you up and down. "Damn, you look good." A soft chuckle left your lips. "You think so?"

"Oh, I know so," Eddie said, laughing. "But hey, let's get you some more clothes, and we could get some matching stuff if you want." He kissed your cheek. "Yes! Like, some band things like you?" You asked, turning to him with that adorable smile you both knew Eddie loved. Eddie chuckled, smiling back. He took your hand again and started leading you back to the shelves. "Yeah, we can definitely get some merch from some bands we like and we could also get some matching hoodies or jackets, you know, that couple's look." You were so happy. "Yeah, definitely!"

"What bands are you in the mood for right now?" Eddie asked. "We could get some Slipknot, Metallica, you name it."

"Anything, really. Just something to match your punky metalhead style." Eddie smiled. "Sure, we can do that. Let's get some metal shirts and maybe some cool jackets." Eddie led you over to the displays and started looking through them. "Let me know if there are any you want!" The two of you looked around and found a few outfits. You couldn't be happier today.

After you paid, you went to the hospital to get your phalloplasty. Eddie was right by your side for the whole trip. He held your hand and comforted you as you waited for when you'd be called to have your surgery. The whole time he looked over at you and smiled at you excitedly. He was so happy you were finally getting what you've always wanted. "I can't believe that our relationship led to this.. I love you.. so very fucking much.."

Eddie smiled. "I love you so much, I'll be your rock through all this and every step of the way."

Soon, you heard your name called, and Eddie squeezed your hand and smiled. "You're ready, baby? You're gonna do great."

Nodding, you stood up. "Let's do this..!" you said, taking a deep breath as you walked towards the nurse who led you to the surgery room. Eddie walked with you. As the nurse lead you away to do all the pre-op stuff like check your vital signs, Eddie kissed you on the cheek. "I love you, and I'll see you once you're done, baby. It's gonna go smooth!"

"Yeah!" You followed the nurse as Eddie got told to wait in the waiting room. Eddie watched as you walked off, and then sat down in the waiting room. He had his phone out and was playing games to pass the time. Soon, he heard a ding and saw he got a text. He opened it and saw you sent him a picture of you in a hospital bed, grinning happily and a thumbs up. "It started," Eddie mumbled to himself, smiling.

Under the whole procedure, you sent weird pictures and texts to pass the time. And to lighten your anxiety, of course.

Eddie smiled at the pictures, sending you love messages to calm you. He also sent you some funny memes.

After a few hours, you sent a text reading, "I'm out, babe." Eddie texted back quickly, "Can i see you?!" He said, adding a bunch of hearts. "Come on." You texted him with a smiley and a heart. Eddie texted back "I'll be right there."

He quickly got up and walked into the hall, looking for the room you were in. When he got to it, he opened the door and walked in and, seeing you, his heart melted. The boy of his dreams was sitting there, his hand bandaged, grinning at him. He smiled and walked over and kissed your forehead. "Hey, baby, how are you feeling?"

You were smiling as hell. Never been happier in your life. Tears slowly formed in your eyes. "Feel amazin' babe.." Eddie hugged you tightly. "I'm so proud of you. Are you in any pain?" Eddie asked, holding your bandaged hand. "Do you need anything?" He asked, smiling at you, tears in his own eyes.

"Just cuddles, please." You tried drying your tears, but they didn't stop. You couldn't feel happier in your body than now.

Eddie smiled and brought you in for a tight hug, rubbing your back softly. He kissed you on the head, smiling at you. "You're such an amazing boy, love you," Eddie whispered in your ear, hugging you tightly. You couldn't help but cry more as he called you a boy.

He held you tighter, whispering "I love you so much, my precious boy. I'm excited for everyone to recognize that and see you as the man you are."

Thanks for reading!

Tag list: @reidsbtch

[skellymom]

hello, i noticed you have "elder goth" written in your bio and im like. an infant bat. do you have any tips on anything (music, makeup, clothing, ect?

(srry if this sounds awkward, im just a very nervous person)

Whew! I DIDN'T FORGET YOU!!! It was an INSANE weekend at work...and I'm burnt. Plus, I like to write my fics and answer asks at my desktop computer and not my phone (fat fingers are clumsy).

Ahem...ok for the Goth Thing:

It's really just about the music. That's it. I mean SO MUCH has evolved and developed since the first wave of that "genre" music appeared on the scene back in the 1970's (Post Punk) underground. Even some bands labeled as Goth now didn't see themselves as such back in the day.

This next list has a lot of good Goth music, with some songs not necessarily in that genre, but close enough that MANY in the community love them. And, some of them showed up before the movement even started (a few after to help with it's evolution), but definitely helped to establish the genre later on (ahem...David Bowie). Btw Marilyn Manson is NOT Goth. However, a LOT of us still love his music as it fits with our dark aesthetic...and remember when I mentioned David Bowie? Well, I am quite sure he helped inspired Marilyn Manson. His Mechanical Animals album certainly looks as it was influenced by Bowie. But, I digress, again... This is just a start on your musical journey...a stepping stone.

People will tell you that if you don't dress or present physically a certain way that you aren't Goth. NOPE. You can dress dark and spooky and edgy but not be Goth. You can dress like a pink princess or "normie" and be Goth at heart. When us older Children of the Night were coming up we did a LOT of DIY (do it yourself) and wore a lot of things you might not consider even Goth. There wasn't the depth, breadth, and easy access of things available on the market like today. We were poor, felt different, non conformist, and just looking for community. That's another hallmark of being a Goth: community. Because back in the day someone might do a violence on you for looking weird (Wearing all black back in the day was seen as extremely socially deviant. ESPECIALLY in small town US or conservative UK/England. People literally were afraid of or hated us. Our brethren: The Punks, Rastafarians, Metal Heads, Rappers, New Wavers (prejudice was doubled if you were a person of color, a different sexuality/gender, poor, etc.) experienced the same thing in society. Then came along The Satanic Panic and OH SHIT what a pain in the ass that was! And The "Moral" Majority crap...) I digress: we were looking for people like us, BUT THEY DIDN'T HAVE TO LOOK EXACTLY LIKE US. Just a bunch of nice, supportive people who got together to listen to music, dance, support the local bands/talent, and try to make it another day. You will find this in the FANDOM, LGBTQ+, and Communities of Color as well...and they overlap.

The presentation is secondary and up to you on how you want to look. You can do it up the max or just be simple in black. My favorite person from back in the day, who really doesn't specifically identify as Goth, but hung heavily in the scene back in the day: Neil Gaiman. The guy who gave us the character of Death from The Sandman Series, published as I was coming into my own Baby Bat phase (based on a real person named "Cinnamon"). Yeah...the character everyone aspires to look like (next to Siouxsie Sioux). He wears just plain black clothes and a long black coat. (Pic of him as a youngin')

Me, I go for "Lazy Goth". Everything black (even at work-black scrubs) with occasionally printed tee or a dark jewel toned piece of clothing. Usually I also mix in the Punk aesthetic too (I love the music and put patches on every damned thing). Punk is scruffy and imperfect, not fussy. I like comfort and ease of dressing. Especially in hot weather. And, I don't do a lot of face makeup, especially being older. Plus, I rather like my olive toned skin. Not every Goth needs to be pale. Google Goth People of Color. Beautiful and amazing looks.

Beware of Gatekeepers. Gothier Than Thou's. Don't let them crush your spirit. There is room in this subculture for everyone. If a particular club, group, or individual sets that tone, just move on. That shit ain't worth it.

Dropping a quote from my (sort of) GothFather creative Neil Gaiman:

"Go and make interesting mistakes, make amazing mistakes, make glorious and fantastic mistakes. Break rules. Leave the world more interesting for your being here. Make. Good. Art."

This can also be read as the journey to "create" yourself. You are on a journey, my sweet Child of the Night. It will take a while to find your stride, whatever that is, and that's totally ok. Spread your bat wings and FLY!

Leaving you with one of my favorite songs:

[beautifulhigh]

Tenderness and rot share a border (AO3 link) -- Chapter 3/5 -- 5k -- rated M

When Carlos was a rookie cop he played a part in bringing down a major crime syndicate. Attention to detail, finding the connections others miss? He helped make the case which had roots all the way through the system.

Newlyweds Carlos and TK are returning  from their honeymoon, looking forward to starting their married lives together. Any ideas they had for what that would look like disappear when they are met at airport arrivals by their fathers, APD, and Texas Rangers.

Carlos' past is crashing into his present and now the whole future they had planned is under threat.

Anyway, when I was developing this fic idea the first scene of this part was one I had so clearly in my head, and it amused me so much that I had to write it. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

--

"Now I'm gonna say this one time and one time only," Judd announced clearly as the lights in the bunk room were being dimmed or turned off. "This ain't no college dorm situation, and there's not even a door for a sock to be hung on. I don't wanna hear anything because I won't think twice about pulling your asses into the shower and coolin' you off."

Nancy barked a laugh which she then tried to stifle.

"You have nothing to worry about, Judd," TK huffed, pulling himself in close to Carlos' body. The bunk wasn't designed for two people but it wasn't impossible to fit them both in there either. "Family friendly, we promise."

"I don't mind sleeping—" Carlos whispered but TK clamped his hand down over his mouth to stop him from continuing that thought.

"So you all object to me and Nance bunking up, but we're cool with them?" Mateo asked. "How's that fair."

"Tell you what, you get a literal hitman taking shots at you and then you can share a bed with your girlfriend in a room with five other people," TK said.

"I'm just saying."

"We talked about this, we all agreed," Paul's voice of reason came through. "Whole point of this is to make sure there are as many people as possible between Chris and Carlos. Only moral this guy seems to have is that he doesn't want to hurt anyone else, so we make sure it's impossible for him to get Carlos alone."

"I get that," Mateo protested, "but if something happens I'll want to protect my girl too."

"Your girl?" Marjan repeated as she walked into the room, fixing her hijab into place. "Not your team, your family?"

"You saying I can't take care of myself?" Nancy asked, sitting up in the soft darkness to stare across at him.

"Of course you can," Mateo said, "but it's my job to try. Help me out, TK, you get it. You protect the people you love."

"Which is why we're all doing this," Paul said. "Got nothing to do with who you bunk up with."

"Trust me, this is not the sexy sleepover you think it is," TK said as a few more lights went out.

"Yeah, because we should be gettin' some actual sleep," Judd said.

After that the conversation was firmly over, and the bunk room settled into the usual sounds TK knew and often found reassuring. Paul's occasional turn of a page in his book, the occasional note or beat escaping from Mateo's single earbud (he'd pretty much conditioned himself to only be able to sleep with music playing, that's how bad Owen's "One Night Strand" phase had been).

"Hey," TK whispered softly.

"Hey," Carlos replied.

"I know this is weirder than being at Dad's—"

"It's fine," Carlos said. "Really. I… actually enjoyed today. There were times, hanging out with everyone, that I felt like I didn't need to be watching over my shoulder. Like I didn't have to constantly be on guard."

"I'm glad."

"I'm glad you got to go back to work too," he continued. "TK, you need to be out there. I'll be fine here, there's plenty of people around. Being at work, we both know it'll be good for you."

"I know, and I know that everything is in place here, it's just… I still worry."

"I'm not saying you need to stop worrying, I know better than to ask that. I'm just saying that you being out there, doing your job, having some normality going on that isn't this? It's what you need."

"I need you to be OK," TK said.

"And I need you both to shut up," Judd complained.

Keep reading

[numinousmysteries]

Vanquish by Wisdom Hellish Wiles (6/9)

On AO3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

@today-in-fic

As they drove, Scully shut her eyes and tried to return to the liminal state where she could feel her son’s presence. Instead of the visions she’d been experiencing all day, though, she was flooded with memories—the same memories that had been haunting her for fifteen years. 

The first time she held William after giving birth. Monica Reyes had handed him to her wrapped in a towel and she reached out to stroke his impossibly soft cheek. She knew she must’ve been losing blood at a rapid rate since her field of vision was narrowing and her head felt light and fuzzy, but the high-pitched wail of her newborn son tethered her in place and kept her from slipping out of consciousness. He’s here, he’s alive, he’s okay, she repeated to herself.

Mulder told her she was awake when he found them and carried them both onto the helicopter he’d arrived in, but the next thing she remembered was waking up in a hospital bed with Mulder sitting beside her holding their baby in his arms.

“What happened?” she asked him, trying to get a grip on her surroundings.

“Hey,” Mulder said, smiling at her. “You’re both okay. You lost a lot of blood but you’re going to be okay.”

Scully reached for the baby and Mulder gently passed the sleeping bundle over to her, helping her sit up so she could support him. 

“Is he alright?” she asked. 

“He’s perfect. Ten out of ten Apgar score, nearly nine pounds. Had a lot to say when we first got here but he’s calmed down now.” 

She felt sore everywhere and exhausted but she also couldn’t remember the last time she was this happy. The thrill of finding out she was pregnant was tempered by Mulder’s disappearance. His eventual return was strained by anxiety over her baby’s health and Mulder’s feelings of not fitting into her life. 

But now she felt relief for the first time in months. All three of them were healthy, safe, and together at last. In that moment, she couldn’t have known how short-lived their reprieve from the darkness would be. 

“You good, Scully?” She heard Mulder ask from the driver’s seat of the car, bringing her back to the present. 

"Yeah,” she said, opening her eyes and turning to him. “I’m fine.”

He grinned at her but raised his eyebrows in doubt. 

“Sorry,” she said. “Force of habit. 

“Just don’t conk out on me again. I’m not ready to check you out of a hospital against medical advice for a third time in one day.” 

“I’m just trying to think where he could be.”

  “Any luck?” Mulder asked. 

Scully shook her head. “Mulder, I want to find him so badly. I know we need to find him, but at the same time I’m afraid. He won’t even know who we are. And how could he not hate me for giving him away?”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,” Mulder said.

He reached over and squeezed her hand but she didn’t feel reassured. For fifteen years her decision to put their son up for adoption had hovered over the two of them like a dark cloud, heavy with rain that had yet to fall. 

She blamed herself for sending Mulder away shortly after William’s birth and she knew Mulder blamed himself for listening to her and leaving. He never told her she made the wrong choice by giving William up, but she knew he had to resent her. It was a conversation they danced around for over a decade but refused to actually engage in. 

“You never would have let me do it if you had stayed,” she said.

A moment passed. His hand tightened on the steering wheel.

“You can’t say that, Scully. I wasn’t there. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you.”

“But I know you,” she said, feeling conviction swelling within her. “You never compromise when it comes to the people you love. You never take half-measures or seek the easy way out. When I was dying from cancer, you risked everything to find a cure you had no evidence would actually work. The smoking man offered you everything you could have wanted—my health, your sister—and you still never sacrificed your convictions.” 

“Scully–” 

“No, Mulder, let me finish. If you were there, you would have found a way for us to keep him safe. I know you would have. I just wasn’t strong enough.” Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes welled up with tears.

This is the point in the conversation where one of them would evade or run away—he’d turn to his work or she’d retreat back to her cold new apartment intentionally free of any personal memories. But they were stuck together now in this car, stuck in motion hurtling inevitably toward the absent center of their lives.

Mulder’s silence told her everything she needed to know. He resented her. 

“Please, say something,” she begged. 

“If our intel from the Gunmen is accurate and these visions you’re having are truly coming from William, which I’m inclined to believe they are, then we know he’s alive,” Mulder said, finally, keeping his eyes on the road straight ahead. “That fact alone proves you didn’t make the wrong choice. We can’t change what happened, but we can do everything we can to save him now.” 

Scully nodded. It was comforting to know that her son was alive but she once again felt the heavy burden of protecting him. She’s failed before and she couldn’t afford to fail again. This time, the fate of the planet hung in the balance as well. 

“What if I can’t see him again?” she asked.

“You will,” Mulder said. “I know you will.” 

Miles passed by without any visions. They crossed state lines into Georgia and she realized it was the first time she’s been in the state since William’s birth. In all the criss-crossing of the country they did during their years on the run they never returned here. It wasn't a decision they discussed but rather an unspoken agreement to avoid treading on uncomfortable topics.

She remembered driving down here from DC with Monica and how uncomfortable she felt the entire way. Not only was she heavily pregnant, her back aching and both her legs falling asleep under her weight from hours on the road, but she was terrified of what would happen once she arrived. Would Billy Miles find her and steal her baby away? And how could she know Mulder was safe? 

It was only the kicks and rhythmic motion of her unborn child that gave her the strength to keep going. She had to stay strong for both of them. 

On the road with Mulder now, her hand absentmindedly traveled to her flat stomach. No matter how many years had gone by, she could still vividly remember the feeling of fluttering beneath her skin. 

A sudden bright flash of light interrupted her thoughts. The image of the road in front of her was replaced with a vision of a tarmac full of small planes. A semi-truck pulled up nearly right next to a small jet and was met by a black sedan. Two suited men exited the sedan and walked around to the passenger side of the truck’s cab. There’s a teenage boy inside with his wrists and ankles bound. Scully could the rough plastic ties as if they were on her own body. The boy screamed and she felt goosebumps erupt on her skin. 

"We said don’t do anything stupid,” the shorter suited man said. “This is what you get for not listening.”

The two men were now on either side of the boy dragging him out of the truck and up a small flight of stairs onto the jet. 

“Stop!” The boy screamed and Scully heard the word coming from her own throat. She gasped, opening her eyes and once again finding herself in the car alongside Mulder.

“Scully!” He shouted, abruptly pulling over to the side of the road. “What the fuck was that?” 

  She panted for air and her heart rattled in her chest. “Mulder, turn around.”

"Why? What did you see?”

“They’re putting him on a plane. They’re taking him to Spartanburg. We have to go back to that house.” 

“Shit,” he said. “Are you sure?”

She’s still shaken up and can only nod. 

Mulder grabbed her wrist with one hand and used the other to steer them back onto the road. They were on the highway with no exit in sight, so Mulder drove across the grassy median to the shocked honking of the other vehicles on the road.

“Good to have a badge again, huh, Scully?” He looked over at her with a smile that failed to hide his fear. 

“Just drive,” she said.

[platonicxreader]

could mod galileo do a request where you are luke skywalker's padewan?

yeah sure thing!!! welcome you are the first request sdkjfhsd (also sorry this took forever i've been dealing with a lot of irl stuff sjdfhkj but i promise i didn't forget about this)

[platonic/familial] Luke Skywalker & Padawan!Reader

By Mod Galileo 🪐

The reader is one of Luke's first students at the Jedi Academy he recently opened. In particular, he found himself attached to this particular student and took them under his wing as a padawan. This is a tale about them bonding during one of the padawan's personal lessons with Luke. (Interpretation can be familial or platonic! The jedi/padawan relationship to me can fit into either.) Story will mainly be in second person with some omniscient third-person about Luke. Reader will be gender-neutral, and I will not be using any y/n or physical descriptors that might exclude a good amount of people (and if I do accidentally slip up, please don’t hesiatte to comment about it! I want these fics to apply to as many people as I can).

❌ PROSHIPPERS: Please don’t interact! Thank you ❌

The Force is a mysterious thing. You had first heard of it when your family would tell you tales at your bedside of the Force; you always assumed they were just tales and no more.

What made you first think the Force could have been more than that was when a mysterious man had appeared at your home one afternoon. He had explained to you and your family that he was a Jedi --- just like from the tales --- and was searching for those sensitive to the Force. Your family initially seemed skeptical of the man's claims, but then you witnessed him prove his ability. That's when you knew the tales could have some basing in reality.

So, you now were a part of his brand new academy. There were a handful of other people like you; there were mainly kids and teens, but a handful of adults as well. The man --- Luke Skywalker, as you would find out --- seemed to be the sole leader of the program, although sometimes other figures would be seen discussing stuff with Luke from time to time, and sometimes they would supervise the students when Luke was occupied elsewhere.

While Luke cared about all of his students equally, he seemed to take an interest particularly in you. One day, he had pulled you aside, explaining that your potential in the force felt great; because of this, he wanted to take you personally under his wing for extra training as his official padawan. You excitedly agreed, and thus began your personal training under Luke.

One of the skills you received extra training on was lightsaber combat. You had a basic idea of the seven forms, but while you had assumed everyone used just one, Luke seemed to alternate between a handful of the styles. It was hard to keep track, but Luke told you that in order for you to learn, you had to be prepared for anything.

In today's particular fight, you could barely keep up with Luke, even if he claimed he was "going easy" with you. Just when you thought you got the hang of one thing he was throwing at you, he'd add in something else and you'd be back to square one.

After a few moments, he was able to knock your saber clean out of your hands. Frustrated, you fell to the ground with a loud groan. "I can't do this!" you cried out.

Luke turned off his saber, approaching you and squatting down to your level. "What's clouding your mind?"

"I'm just not learning fast enough. I feel like I'm failing you as a padawan, Master Skywalker." You could feel your eyes water as your face heated up.

Luke placed a hand on your shoulder. "You aren't failing me," he assured you. "Becoming a Jedi Master takes time and, more importantly, patience. The Force is bigger than any of us know. I still have a lot to learn myself."

"That's not true," you grumbled. "You're a Jedi Master. Don't you know everything?"

Luke let out a soft chuckle. "I sure wish I did, but I still have a long way to go even with everything I know now." He let out a soft exhale. "There will always be more to learn. Even when you feel as if you've learned it all, there will always be something else."

You wanted to feel reassured, but you still felt as if he was just saying this; or worse, you were worried he'd give up on you as a padawan.

Luke took very easy notice to your persistent bad mood. "What else is on your mind?"

You looked away from Luke. "Am I even good enough to be your padawan?" you mumbled.

Luke took a second to respond, which only made you more anxious, but then he let out a deep breath. "Your skill isn't what makes you worthy of being a padawan. What makes you worthy is your potential and your strive to get better."

He paused, so you turned to face him curiously.

Now with your direct focus, he continued on. "You have potential, and I know there is a passion within you. With determination, I know you can achieve great things. You just have to do them."

"I know, and I'm trying," you sigh.

"A wise old Jedi once told me: do or do not, there is no try."

You squinted at him, tilting your head in confusion.

Luke gave you a small grin. "What I mean is, you need to believe in yourself. If you tell yourself you can do it, you'd be surprised at just how much you're capable of."

You nodded. "Thank you, Master Skywalker."

Luke stood up, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed a hold of it, and he pulled you up. "One more time, just for practice?" he asked, pulling out his lightsaber.

You looked down at the ground, pulling your own saber back into your grasp. While you still had some doubts, you could at least sense that Luke cared about you. "Alright, sure."

...

That night, Luke was meditating in his room. He thought about how he felt back as a padawan, and then thought of you. The Jedi were not historically allowed attachments, but Luke could feel a sense of kinship between the two of you; he saw a lot of himself in you, which is part of why you interested him. He knew the Force brought you to him for a reason. Maybe you needed a leader to guide you, or maybe you in a way could guide him as well, as bizarre as that sounded.

He smiled. The Force sure worked in mysterious ways.

[ynparker]

Good day! Can I request a fic where reader thinks she's an afterthought to Peter because she always get stood up by him and the one time she needed him the most he's late or didn't show up.It can end however you see fits, thank you!

A/N: I love the idea! There will definitely be a part 2 to this...

The One Time - Peter Parker x (Y/N) - Part 1

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Summary: (Y/N) put her heart and soul into her college application. She had done everything she could to get into her dream school, and the week had finally come when she would get her results. She was the most excited out of everyone in her school to get her letter. If only a certain someone shared her excitement...

Warnings: Peter being kinda neglecting

Hey, are you free?

Read

Can I call you?

Read

Peteer?

Read

Honestly, she had sent so many texts that it was almost too embarrassing to send another one. But she did. It's not like she had another choice. Peter had to think it was important if she texted him again.

College results come in today...

Delivered

Read

Read 1 minute ago

She was almost bored as she saw it. It had become a ritual tual at that point. Peter saw her messages, never replied to them, and pretended he had been too busy and that everything was ok.

But it never was. Peter wold always ignore her, she was always his second priority. Maybe even his third or fourth one.

Her phone suddenly began buzzing. She almost cursed herself at the sudden jolt of excitement that coursed through her. But her heart rate immediately slowed when she saw who it was.

"Hey, MJ," (Y/N) said, trying not to show the disappointment in her voice and probably failing.

"Hey, (Y/N)!" her friend replied, sounding much happier than she herself felt.

"Where are you?" (Y/N) asked, frowning at the pink coverlet sitting next to her on the bed as her ears picked up on loud music coming from MJ's end.

"Liz convinced me to go clubbing."

"Clubbing?" (Y/N) choked. "Dude, you hate clubbing."

"I hated clubbing, past tense," MJ laughed. "It is the funniest thing, and plus, I don't have to think about college results. Or my future."

"Which is why I stay away from them, and why I thought you did too!" (Y/N) replied, clicking her phone to speaker and tossing it next to her on the bed as she lay down. Worry was gathering in her chest, and she took deep breaths as she tried to take her mind off her troubles.

Peter was out there, somewhere. He had seen her messages. What was he doing that he had to ignore them? It was probably something important, but was it really that important...?

"Hey, (Y/N)! You still with me?" MJ's voice carried out of the phone speaker and into her friend's unwilling ears. All (Y/N) wanted to do was curl up and watch videos until she fell asleep, pretending it would take her mind off of problems when she knew full well it would do nothing.

"Yes..."

"Alright, that's enough, I'm coming over."

"What?"

(Y/N) sat up immediately, her frown overtaking her face. What on earth did MJ have planned now...

"You're coming with me. You're going to get up and take off your little MIT hoodie and come to the club."

"You don't know what I'm wearing," (Y/N) said, injured, as she looked down at her MIT hoodie.

"I know what you're going to be wearing!" MJ called. "Now get ready. I'm pulling up in fifteen minutes."

"You don't have a car," (Y/N) reminded her, still hoping she could get out of this.

"Oh, this girl I met here is giving me a ride. If you're not ready, I'll tell Peter you sleep with his shirt under your pillow."

With that, MJ hung up.

"Yeah, you can try," (Y/N) said to the dark screen. "Maybe you'll have better luck."

All of a sudden, the screen lit up again. (Y/N) squealed and jumped out of bed as she recognized the name. It was from Peter.

Her fingers hurried to tap the notification and push in her passcode. Her heart fell a little as she read the text.

Kinda busy tonight, helping May.

Her smile brightened again as another text popped up.

Yeah, I know, it's pretty exciting.

Of course, Peter would never forget her. She pushed all the 'what ifs' to the back of her mind. This was a time to get ready.

She'd never had the opportunity to wear the dress she knew would be the most appropriate. A friend had gotten it for her months ago, and it was so short she had pushed it to the back of her closet, definite it belonged in the 't-shirt' category rather than a dress.

But now, as she held it out in front of her, the silver material and the tight bodice didn't seem so bad. After all, it was one night, and Peter's text had considerably lightened her mod. Maybe one or two drinks would make her feel better.

A honk sounded from outside, and (Y/N) smiled as she heard MJ's voice calling her.

She hurried to grab her clutch and her phone. This was her first time going out since she could remember. She was determined to make the most of it.

"You look hot," MJ commented as her friend slipped into the car and shyly said hello to the girl driving the car.

"Since when did you become that friend who drags all her friends to random clubs at all hours of the day?" (Y/N) asked.

"You... need to get out more," MJ slurred, twirling a red plastic cup in her fingers.

"And you... are drunk," (Y/N) mocked, though she didn't really mean it. She intended to follow in her friend's footsteps that night. She could use some forgetting.

The data was off on her phone. She couldn't get any notifications. But if she did, she would have seen that her MIT application status had been updated.

She would also have torn up all her pictures of MIT that she had made when she was younger, or the promise letter she had written in freshman year, promising herself she would get in.

|||

Meanwhile, Peter Parker was having the time of his life. Obviously, Aunt May didn't need his help that night, he had just said that to get rid of (Y/N). He loved her, he really did, but she needed too much from him. She needed a version of him that he couldn't be.

When MJ had texted him by accident, he had found out that she would be at a club, he had decided to join her but ended up with a gaggle of swooning girls at a bar.

Now, he just wanted to forget about everything. (Y/N), in particular, He had gotten into MIT when he applied for Early Action, so he didn't have the same stress as his classmates.

So clubbing on a Friday night seemed like a perfect excuse to forget about his weirdly clingy girlfriend.

Suddenly, someone beside him squealed. He looked up suddenly and saw a girl who had sat with him jumping up and down, looking at her phone, a widely excited look on her face.

"They're here! MIT is sending out acceptances!" she squealed.

"Oh, boy," Peter sighed. He knew he was being a complete jerk, but didn't he deserve some privacy? Didn't he deserve some peace and quiet? All he was hoping for in that moment was that (Y/N) wouldn't text him.

But, sure enough, five minutes later, his phone started buzzing.

A hand on his chest soon stopped the hand going to his pocket.

"Who is that from?" a girl's voice whispered in his ear. Peter turned around and smiled when he recognized her. She had bought him a drink earlier, and she seemed to really like him. Not that Peter was complaining, she looked really good.

"Just a girl," whispered Peter, feeling his throat tighten.

"Well, ditch her," the girl said. "Wanna get out of here?"

|||

(Y/N) could feel the sobs slipping to her throat. She had convinced MJ that she was ok, she could get herself home. But right now, she was outside the club, holding her phone, looking left and right in horror.

Acceptance status: denied.

Denied.

Not even deferred. Denied.

This was the end of everything. She had texted her mom, her dad, Peter. Finally, she had managed to get an Uber, which should have been here three minutes ago, and Peter had sent her another cryptic text about helping his Aunt May.

"Oh, screw it," (Y/N) whispered into the night air, and pressed the call button next to her boyfriend's name.

There was a pause. She frowned. Peter's ringtone was the Ghostbusters theme song. She could literally hear the song playing in her ears. It sounded too real to be something she was making up in her head.

She frowned again and looked around, trying to follow the source of the noise.

(Read Part 2 here!)

[sungbeam]

alright- because this is way awake me- I didn't read back my tags until today- i wasn't speaking properly in those tags (i said sleeping instead of reading... and other messy tags)- I def didn't convey half of what I wished to- (esp because we're limited to thirty tags...) anyways! scooby doo brains unite hehe~ it was an absolute fever dream to read this at 3-4am- (esp when I knew I was gonna help a friend move but once I start sth *esp a fic this good* I must finish it-) It was worth every second of missed sleep- The emotions were so powerful 😭💖 and I felt them to the nth degree- Omg?!? You wrote it without knowing the ending!? I love that sm- because that ending!? Was beyond what words can express- You tied up every end- And omg!? I was looking for the word foil- and god- I loved the use of it- You're so right the slow burn was def burning that midnight oil at midnight creek!!! 😭😭 Omg?!?! You imagine fics as movies too omg!? Heck yeah 😭 The parallel between the sisters!!! Omg it was one of my favorite little bits- You may have not realized it- but it was just so goooodddd- I was hoping for a brutal fight sequence with Bonnie- and you provided all that and more! I was sincerely left with my jaw dropped it was so good- (what I was trying to express was how it felt fated that after yn named it clyde- he jokingly named his bonnie and once he saved yn from mika- he called it bonnie again. It was as if their relationship was fated for it to happen the moment after the reader named clyde- because bonnie and clyde were together til the end/no matter what- if that makes more sense?) No it's not strange that you liked writing it- it was beyond amazing- i'm so glad you enjoyed writing it 😭💖 because for me as a reader it was clear how much love and thought was put into this fic- I lllloooovveeed that scene- (I def couldn't express it that night and meant to fix my tags but my sleepy brain said *post*)- I loved the other two fics in this series- and I just- even thinking back into the story I'm just so content- it was my everything- (ngl this makes me want to read it all over again). (I wish for you to know that I keep thinking about that little ring and it means sm- I wish I had gotten to talk about the disgrace bit because it was brutal yet a deeper dive into his backstory and I loved it- there's just sm to say about this brilliant fic but I'll stop here). anyways thank you again for writing that lovely "movie" 🥺💖

omg no cuz why do we always stay up when we know we have to get up to do something the next day 😭😭 scooby doo brain fever or sumn @@ PLS honestly if u read half of what i spout out after reading long fics, u wouldn't even understand what im trying to convey 😭

RAAAH I APPRECIATE THAT 😭😭 no cuz i kinda wrote the confession part separately but it was supposed to be closer to the middle?? BUT that was when i planned for the fic to be waaay longer 🤧 the end really was made up on the fly skfbeknfnf so im glad it all wrapped up nicely for u, that puts my mind at ease 😅 i figured there'd be some questions lol

omg i just realized i put midnight creek instead of moonstone creek 😭😭😭 my own fic and i can't even remember akfndknfkd BUT YES I IMAGINE LIKE EVERY FIC AS A MOVIE :'))) it's just so much fun to see how it progresses and to imagine like music and camera angles lol and when the fic is written well, the scenes just flow sooo nicely together yk?

no omg the bonnie and clyde thing def makes sense !!! i didn't know if doing that pairing would be cheesy or not but i think it fits w them well, and im glad u agree :'))) AHHH YEAH im so glad u thought so, this was my passion project, like truly. idt i'll ever be able to write sumn like this ever again and that low-key makes me sad TT

the disgrace part has so much behind it, like i put it into the beginning without quite knowing where it would lead, but now i have a better idea of his back story that i hope to write out some time !! im so glad the little ring part is sticking with u; it makes me so emo thinking abt it 😭

THANK U AGAIN SM FOR READING AND FOR UR THOUGHTS !!! 💖💖 much, MUCH love <3

[lliinnkk]

This is a fic I've written from a scene out of my daydreams but this scene itself doesn't fit enough into a fandom to put it on AO3, plus if it did, it'd be multiple at once in a rly strange AU buuuuut I'm rly proud of it and I think it's rly cute so I wanna post it here :) I started writing it in February but I'm gonna post it here instead of writing anything new heh 😂

Word Count: 1.75k

Content: self-sacrificial whumpee; hospital whump; non sexual nudity; stubborn whumpee; comfort

(^Never written up smth for whump tag before so I hope this format is good? Hope I didn't miss anything important)

White light. That hospital stench. Kahston?? What the hell's he doing here??

"Oh shit, she's awake!"

Stop screeching this early in the morning, Faith thought, wincing back at the sound. Was there a needle in her arm?

"Didn't expect you to wake up so soon. Glad you're back! We were just finishing up here." Brandy's familiar face caught Faith's blurred vision, creating a sense of sanity in all the confusion.

"Am I..." her voice fell hoarse and dry and she swallowed harshly before speaking again. "Am I in the med centre? When did I get here?" She tried to sit up but Brandy hurriedly yet gently ushered her back down.

"You shouldn't strain yourself right now, just lie down! You've been in a coma for a long time. Just rest for now." Brandy looked strange, acting so serious, but put on a stupid smile like her usual self with an exasperated sigh.

The memories resurfaced slowly as Faith groggily rubbed her eyes. The last thing she could remember was shouting at Julius, and then...here... Oh.

"Where...the hell is everyone? Are they all okay? How long have I been gone for? Kashton??" So many questions, so little time. "I want answers!" Faith demanded.

"Okay, slow down! I told you not to strain yourself alright??" Brandy fussed, looking like she was about to restrain Faith by force. "Kash, why don't you go spread the good word that she's awake? I'll just handle it myself from here. Let's not allow visitors just yet since she's only just woken up."

"Yeah sure, I'll leave you to it then. I guess that's it for training today?" Kash asked, removing his hospital scrubs. Had he been treating Faith as a patient before she woke?

"Yeah go on, take the day off actually, we'll probably all be celebrating with a drink tonight," Brandy winked as she waved Kash out the door.

Faith took this time to take the rest of the room in. The room was full of hospital beds with equipment filled bedside tables but her bed was the only one being used. On her own bedside table she noted the cluttered amount of flowers and get-well-soon cards piled in with all the syringes and drugs of which the sight sent chills down her spine. She felt again the itch to get up.

"So, to explain the situation for you... Hm, this isn't going to be any easy news to break to you." Brandy let out a breath as though the emotional toll of the topic had physically knocked the wind out of her lungs itself as she took a seat on Faith's left. "Since donating seventy years of your lifespan, you've been stuck in a coma for the past week. I'm so sorry."

Faith's eyes widened. "I've been in a coma for a whole week? Seriously? How could I have lost so much time?" Panicked now, Faith made her third attempt at sitting up, this time unchallenged. The world spun around her and her head swam in a thick void of sickeningly painful dizziness.

"Hey, but don't worry! All our plans went ahead smoothly and everyone's actually settled in really well now. And everyone in hospital is healing super quick too, you don't have to worry." Brandy laid a gentle hand on Faith's shoulder to steady her and they made eye contact, though somehow still they couldn't see eye to eye. "You're fine, we're fine. Everything is going absolutely fine. Trust me. All we need you to do for us now is rest."

Faith's brows still furrowed, an expression of devastating betrayal etched across her face. "but... But what's he doing here?? Why's he here, why's Kash here??"

"Julius and I went to rescue him a couple days ago. No, I think it would be five days ago now actually. Yeah, why?" Brandy didn't understand.

"No... No, no, there's no way, why?? Why is he here? What, are you just saying you don't need me or something? Is that what you're saying? I was supposed to go, not Julius, if I was asleep you should've just woken me up, I'd have been fine, it'd have been easy, so easy!"

"What?? Faith, what the hell are you talking about? Did you not hear me or something? I said you were in a coma for a whole week! We weren't even sure if you were gonna survive, there was no way we were gonna make you do anything short of getting out of bed!"

"Just go and rub it in why don't you? I was just sitting here for a whole week and life kept on moving without me as if I'm not here." Blinking back tears, Faith breathed, balling her fists into her hair in an attempt to pull apart the pounding pain by force. Brandy could all but stare, just trying to put together how to react. "I've lost so much time. I... I've got to make up for this somehow. What the hell can I do to make up for this??"

"What the hell did you expect us to do while you were gone though, nothing?"

"No, I expected me not to have been in a god damn coma! I've lost so fucking much now! Why the hell did I have to pass out like that? I should've been stronger!"

"Faith, what the fuck?? You lost seventy years of your life! You'll never get those back!"

"I... Ugh!" Faith didn't know what else to say so she turned over in her bed and pulled the covers over herself but became tangled in wires and needles. "Ugh, I hate this, I hate being here, I feel like I'm being chained down! Get me out of here!"

"Oh alright, just calm down first, I'm only trying to help you," Brandy sighed, gently removing all the strings and wires attached to Faith's body.

Briefly, Brandy left the room only to fetch a spare wheelchair, then returned to the sight of stupid Faith on the stupid floor, groaning with the nauseating pain of jumping out of bed on unsure footing.

"Oh my god. I'm not even surprised you fucking dumbass."

"Help."

"Just get in the god damn chair."

After clambering into her chair she sanitised her hands before wheeling herself with practised precision out into the woods just outside. She shivered in just a hospital gown, cursing the early January air. This decision looked to worsen the state of her already stupid body but she just needed to get out of that damn hospital. Most importantly she needed to be on her own, possibly the most useless and ashamed Faith had ever felt.

"Thought you'd be here." Brandy's voice startled Faith and she quickly wiped her tears on her arm.

"Go away," Faith said, voice wobbling.

"Yeah yeah, I know. I got you a blanket and a bowl of soup. I don't know what the hell you think you're doing in the freezing cold like this," said Brandy, putting the tray of soup and water on the ground to throw a thick blanket over Faith's stunned face.

"Uh...thanks," Faith hummed, reluctantly taking the tray. She found a neat pair of gloves on it and slowly put them on then spooned the broth into her dry mouth. The steaming warmth spread down her throat and into the rest of her body and she felt as though she hadn't tasted something so good in years.

"it's okay you know?" asked Brandy, watching the wind blow brutally through Faith's hair as she continued to eat. "It's okay that you're not okay."

"I'm fine," Faith said, avoiding eye contact.

"Alright then," she took a seat on a nearby stump and hugged herself, thankfully smart enough to have put a coat on before she left. "But I'm not gonna let you just start walking around like you're perfectly healthy."

"I've never been perfectly healthy," Faith scoffed as she rolled her eyes.

"You act like you are."

"I have to."

"Not now you don't."

"Yes I do. What are people gonna think when they see me like this?"

"Not a single one of us hasn't seen you like this."

"Oh so they just don't care?"

"That's not it. Everyone cares, even Julius, that's why he went for you."

"But everyone's just moving on without me now. No one even needs me anymore."

"Faith, that's not true. You're worth more than just a sacrifice."

Faith just sighed and kept eating, eyes fixed on some stray leaf rolling around on the ground.

"You'd never say that about us so why would you say that about yourself?" Brandy stood up and towered over Faith. No response. This was clearly the end of the conversation.

"I'm done," Faith said, putting her spoon down after some time passed.

"Great, let's go back then."

"No, I'm staying here."

"Oh no you're not, you're coming with me," Brandy grinned maliciously, turning the wheelchair around despite Faith's protests. "You're having a shower!"

Faith nagged and shouted but had no strength to fight Brandy when she carried her bridal style into the shower room and gently set her down on a stool, undoing her hospital gown. It probably would've been easier to bathe than shower since she found it so difficult to walk or move but a fear of the ocean came with consequences.

She sat on the plastic stool under the shower head, completely naked and in need of a shave but probably not today. The water was cold, then hot, then just right, and she soon welcomed the warmth embracing her. All protest melted away at the feel of loving fingers in her hair massaging her scalp. The soft wash cloth saw no complaint as it gently washed down every surface of her body.

Afterwards, she was dried off in the bathroom, wrapped in white robes as Brandy brushed through and blow dried her hair with great care. She was brought to the sink where she could brush her teeth before changing into a clean hospital gown and being carried back to her hospital bed.

"There you go - warm, clean and full on tasty food now," Brandy sang, pecking Faith's forehead.

"Thanks Brandy. And sorry about earlier, I promise I'm really okay now," Faith said, cheeks still pink from the warmth of the shower. Brandy knew she still wasn't really okay but knew better than to kick up a fuss about it. Faith stretched, head no longer pounding. "Alright, I think I'm ready for visitors now. Let everyone in!"

Thank you for reading, I am very proud of this!! ^^