#but yeah my reading needs to be updated so i might do another one

[willwasnotfound]

Other kind of demon

DAAAAAMN, I just invented this today and it's waaay crazy that it has so many likes :'v (at least for me) Thank you everyone for reading this, I promise I'll do my best to give you all whatever you want, again, sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language! Prologue, Chapter 2

The souls you left behind

Calling Y/N the new member of huntrix was both wrong and correct at the same time, she still sang by herself, but started to release a lot of songs with the girls, and that was enough for the fame of both to increase.

She not only was a great singer, she was great at composing and writing, she made up song for both, Huntrix and her, loving the recognition it got her.

Pop/Stars was just the begining, she wrote more and more, ironically, More was the next song she wrote, inviting a chinese singer that was also rising up on the industry, making it one of the biggest hit on the charts.

Tonight Huntix had an important show, it would be the last before taking an important break that they needed reaaally bad.

“Everyone look alive.” Bobby, the manager of the group, said to the concert staff backstage making sure everything is perfect for the performance of the group. 

“All right. Looking good over there. Okay. Ready? Ready. But where are the girls?” Bobby, double checked everything around the arena and looked on his phone to see any updates from the girls. 

“What? What? Where are they going?” Only to see on his phone that the plane of Huntrix was going out of track on its destination. "Y/N! Did the girls told you something??" Bobby kept freaking out, searching the mentioned girl.

"I think they just might have problems." Y/N called the girls, and they answered quickly.

"Hi Y/N!" The tree girls greeted her with a smile, then Bobby as he appeared on the screen too. "Hi Bobby!"

"Yeah, hi! Uhm, what are you doing?" Y/N passed her phone to Bobby, just leaving to backstage and prepare some stuff, she already knew what might happen. "We're about to eat our preshow ramyeon." Rumi turned the phone to show the food they had on their jet.

"Pre-show? What about the show-show?" Suddenly, the phone was stealed from him from some fans, and he foughted to have it back.

Then Y/N appeared again, helping Bobby to have the phone back and also talking with the girls. "Hey, need some help opening?" She quickly appeared on the screen, to which the girls nodded.

"Yeah, I think we've got a plague." Mira turned to face the flight attendants clearly annoyed.

"We owe you one!" Zoey smiled brightly to then end the call.

"So?" Bobby stood aside from her, trying to calm down, if Y/N was calm it was probably a good thing.

"I'm going to open the show, don't overthink, 'kay Bobby?" Y/N went straight to the stage. "Please, put on the track." She talked to a staff behind Bobby, he only nodded, and encouraged Y/N.

The fans were screaming in excitement, they had expected her to be there, yes, but not that soon, and as the final note rang out she signaled to the sky, noticing the figures of the main evente and calling for the public to also look at them.

"Look up at the sky, I present to you, Huntrix!" With that, a cloud of smoke raised in the area, from which a demon emerged falling between spectators, along with the girls on stage, interpreting "How it's done." Zoey quickly killed the demon, making it go 'puff' and explode into confetti, pleasing the fans.

As Rumi reached the highest note, they could see golden in the Honmoon, smiling excited as their goal seemed so close. The rest of the concert went normally, the first songs were the ones that shared with Y/N, after that, she leaved the stage to take a break.

She was tired, she got rid of Gwi-Ma, yes, but somehow she kept hearing voices, not from her mind, it was like the demons that the Huntrix girls slained runed to her, to find another demon on the realm to rest.

Y/N was not a normal demon, that's for sure. She actually devoured souls, but probably not like Gwi-Ma did, or at least she wasn't really sure about that, perhaps he did hear the agony and enjoyed it.

So yeah, that's exactly what happened to Y/N, somehow she fed herself by demons, unlike whatever she thought and told the hunters- It was like they knew what she was, and didn't wanted to let her go, remembering all she was before even becoming a demon, she didn't want that, she tought she would forget, and yet, the more she leaved all behind, the more it seemed to chase her.

The concert finished, and she reunited with the girls after they left their staff behind.

"Hey Y/N!" Zoey went to hug her tightly, being followed by smiles of the other two.

"Thanks for saving our ass, the concert could go wrong without you." Mira patted his back. "No problem, I'm glad to help you." Y/N pulled apart from the hug, the girls started to walk away to the car that would leave them on their penthouse.

"Do you want to come over with us? We'll be having an important meeting with our couch." Zoey jumped happily next to the girls.

"I wouldn't like to bother you, thanks." Y/N brushed off and keep walking behind them. "Also, I have some stuff to do, I need to write some things and then just sleep."

"But I thought you didn't need to sleep?" Zoey tilted her head slightly, being followed by Mira.

"When I hadn't take a break for days I do need to rest." Y/N sighed and waved at them as she saw how they got into the car. "But have a nice rest on your couch." She chuckled.

"Okayy, be safe!!" Zoey said already on the car, after a bit losing track of their friend.

"I'm a demon, I think I can take care of myself." Y/N turned into a shadow, starting to roam through the city.

She did'nt lie to the girls, she was in fact tired, but everyday she did a patrol just to be sure that demons weren't around.

This world was now hers to protect, and it was just because she accepted to be with the hunters, if not, god knows what would have happened.

And suddenly, she felt a presence. No, not one, five. They were demons for sure, she could sense them, and even as a shadow, she knew they could see her too, they were just like her, humans with deals to seal.

"I know you're watching me." Y/N stopped and showed her human form, her eyes shined with that golden light as she searched for the ones behind that presence. "Show yourself." And as she barely turned around she found them, five male demons standing in there, their patterns shining just like their eyes, she was basically surounded, all because she let her guard down.

Shit.

Ngl, I improv half of this cuz I started to disociate through it, I'm so sorry if there are errors, I really tried my best to make it have sense :'v

Umm, I don't know, let me know if you liked it or not! I''l try to get my writting habilities better, I'm not perfect at english grammar T-T

Taglist: @just-set-things-on-fire, @gremlinartstudio, @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone, @katzline

[ms-demeanor]

Do you have thoughts about the changes to Firefox's Terms of Use and Privacy Notice? A lot of people seem to be freaking out ("This is like when google removed 'Don't be evil!'"), but it seems to me like just another case of people getting confused by legalese.

Yeah you got it in one.

I've been trying not to get too fighty about it so thank you for giving me the excuse to talk about it neutrally and not while arguing with someone.

Firefox sits in such an awful place when it comes to how people who understand technology at varying levels interact with it.

On one very extreme end you've got people who are pissed that Firefox won't let you install known malicious extensions because that's too controlling of the user experience; these are also the people who tend to say that firefox might as well be spyware because they are paid by google to have google as the default search engine for the browser.

In the middle you've got a bunch of people who know a little bit about technology - enough to know that they should be suspicious of it - but who are only passingly familiar with stuff like "internet protocols" and "security certificates" and "legal liability" who see every change that isn't explicitly about data anonymization as a threat that needs to be killed with fire. These are the people who tend not to know that you can change the data collection settings in Firefox.

And on the other extreme you've got people who are pretty sure that firefox is a witch and that you're going to get a virus if you download a browser that isn't chrome so they won't touch Firefox with a ten foot pole.

And it's just kind of exhausting. It reminds me of when you've got people who get more mad at queer creators for inelegantly supporting a cause than they are at blatant homophobes. Like, yeah, you focus on the people whose minds you can change, and Firefox is certainly more responsive to user feedback than Chrome, but also getting you to legally agree that you won't sue Firefox for temporarily storing a photo you're uploading isn't a sign that Firefox sold out and is collecting all your data to feed to whichever LLM is currently supposed to be pouring the most bottles of water into landfills before pissing in the plastic bottle and putting the plastic bottle full of urine in the landfill.

The post I keep seeing (and it's not one post, i've seen this in youtube comment sections and on discord and on tumblr) is:

Well-meaning person who has gotten the wrong end of the stick: This is it, go switch to sanguinetapir now, firefox has gone to the dark side and is selling your data. [Link to *an internet comment section* and/or redditor reactions as evidence of wrongdoing].

Response: I think you may be misreading the statements here, there's been an update about this and everything.

Well-meaning (and deeply annoying) person who has gotten the wrong end of the stick: If you'd read the link you'd see that actually no I didn't misinterpret this, as evidenced by the dozens of commenters on this other site who are misinterpreting the ToU the same way that I am, but more snarkily.

Bud.

Anyway the consensus from the actual security nerds is "jesus fucking christ we carry GPS locators in our pockets all goddamned day and there are cameras everywhere and there is a long-lasting global push to erode the right to encrypt your data and facebook is creating tracking accounts for people who don't even have a facebook and they are giving data about abortion travel to the goddamned police state" and they could not be reached for comment about whether Firefox is bad now, actually, because they collect anonymized data about the people who use pocket.

My response is that there is a simple fix for all of this and it is to walk into the sea.

(I am not worried about the updated firefox ToU, I personally have a fair amount of data collection enabled on my browser because I do actually want crash reports to go to firefox when my browser crashes; however i'm not actually all that worried about firefox collecting, like, ad data on me because I haven't seen an ad in ten years and if one popped up on my browser i'd smash my screen with a stand mixer - I don't care about location data either because turning on location on your devices is for suckers but also *the way the internet works means unless you're using a traffic anonymizer at all times your browser/isp/websites you connect to/vpn/what fucking ever know where you are because of the IP address that they *have* to be able to see to deliver the internet to you and that is, generally speaking, logged as a matter of course by the systems that interact with it*)

Anyway if you're worried about firefox collecting your data you should ABSOLUTELY NOT BE ON DISCORD OR YOUTUBE and if you are on either of those things you should 100% be using them in a browser instead of an app and i don't particularly care if that browser is firefox or tonsilferret but it should be one with an extension that allows you to choose what data gets shared with the sites it interacts with.

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[kisses4themissus]

Little Lady | M.R x Reader

a/n: teehee tell me yall's thoughts on this one!! also mid way through the chapter i was so upset because it dawned on me i unknowingly set the fic in the winter.. pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch X Single Mom! Reader wc: 2.8k Warning; semi-proof read, mention of car crash

Previous | Masterlist | Next

The phone on your desk rang once more, making you groan before picking it up.

“ICU.” You responded monotone. 

“Robby’s asking again if there’s a bed up there, he’s claiming you're hoarding beds up there.” Dana sighed, watching as Robby leaned forward, attempting to hear you.

You groaned, looking around the unit; all of the rooms were full. “Yeah I'm shoving them up my ass, no we don't have any available.” You responded sarcastically; you ignored the flutter in your stomach as you could hear robby’s laughter in the back.

“Knew it, thanks again.” Dana quickly hung up the phone. 

You playfully rolled your eyes before going back to your medical journal. There was now an obvious shift between yourself and robby; no longer was there petty bed hoarding or unstable patients sent up out of spite. It was eerily calm with you both.

 - - - - - - - -

“Dude in 568 is clear for progressive care.” A respiratory nurse told you as she tossed her gloves into the trash outside the door and then went over to the open sink and scrubbed her hands.

You chuckled and nodded before picking up the phone, paging robby.

“Dr. robby.” He greeted, the sounds of the trauma room in the background. 

“Lucky day, we have one available, needs to be cleaned so it’ll be a bit.” You sighed, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you updated patient files.

“I knew it, you were hoarding.” He joked, not noticing the looks of shock on the residents and nurses faces.

“He is on the phone with the ICU right?” Langdon muttered to princess who nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, alright go take care of your trauma paitent.” You hung up.

You sighed as you leaned back into your chair, luckily most of the ICU patients were settled for the time being. 

Thankfully with it being calm you pulled out your phone and smiled at the photos your mom had sent. Lovebug had a wide smile as she had on her ballet tutu, standing outside of an audition room. Then another with your father, standing by his truck both grinning.

You turned off your phone, trying to motivate yourself to not grow bored.

 - - - - - - - -

Robby sighed as he drank out of his thermos, glancing up at the board.

Dana sighed as she had the desk phone tucked between her shoulder and chin. “Two car crash victims incoming.” 

Robby nodded and placed down the cup and turned as the EMTs walked in and explained the driver had gotten a heart attack mid drive.

“Take him to trauma two.” Robby pointed to the room, before turning to the other EMT. “Where’s the other victim?” He asked, only to get his answer very quickly of a little girl on a gurney. 

“Actually, dr. Robby meet the driver’s hero; his granddaughter Lacey, she managed to escape her carseat after the crash and got his phone to call 9-1-1.” The female EMT smiled at the little girl with comfort.

Robby had a quick flash of shock on his face before warmly smiling at the little girl. “Vital’s are normal, so we’re guessing she might have minor whiplash.” The EMT filled Robby in.

“Hi Lacey, I'm dr. Robby, are you hurting anywhere?” Robby asked softly as the five year old nodded and pointed to chest.

“My seatbelt pulled me back, and my head hurts.” She explained, her tiny hands clutching the stuffed rabbit on the bed. “Ok, i’m gonna have one of my best doctors look over you ok, i’m gonna go help your grandpa then i’ll be back.” Lacey nodded at robby and sighed as Dana helped move Lacey to a hospital bed.

“Do you want some water?” Dana asked, Lacey lifted her head and nodded.

“Please, and with ice.” Lacey rubbed the rabbit’s stuffed ear as she asked.

Dana smiled and nodded at her request, feeling her heart melt a bit from the child’s manners. Getting a tiny cup of water and ice chips, she flagged down mohan. “Got a case for you; six year old, she’s with the trauma two patient.” Dana debriefed Mohan who nodded, taking the water and ice.

“Robby said after he helps her grandpa, he’d come back to see her.” 

Samira nodded and walked into the small room with a soft smile as Lacey sat on the bed playing with her rabbit. “Hi there, i’m doctor mohan can you tell me your name?”

The little girl smiled and said her full name. “Very pretty name, i brought you some water and ice chips for now, is it ok if i check to make sure nothing serious happened to you?” Samira asked, setting down the water and ice on the small tray in the room before grabbing a pair of gloves.

Lacey took a sip of water and nodded.

Mohan quickly did her assessment before going to order a CT scan.

Once again entering the room, Mohan sat down beside the little girl and began to keep her company like Dana had hoped.

“So how old are you lacey?” Mohan asked, taking note of the pale pink tutu and tights.

“I just turned five a few months ago.” She smiled before picking up the rabbit and raising it to her ear before giggling and turning to mohan. 

“She likes your hair!” Lacey giggled, making samira’s heart melt.

“Well tell her, I just love her ribbons.” Mohan played along. “What’s your friend’s name here?” She asked, Lacey proudly propped up the rabbit on her lap.

“Her name is June, like my birthday! My pop-pop gave her to me for my first ballet recital.” Lacey explained.

Mohan chuckled, noticing donnie outside with an IV, slightly cringing before standing up to help put it in.

Both donnie and mohan were shocked to see how well lacey has taken the IV, just closing her eyes and turned her head as the needle poked her skin.

“You're so brave!” Mohan encouraged as donnie flushed the IV before stopping for it to be clear for the CT dye.

 - - - - - - - -

Robby sighed as he exited the trauma room, rubbing sanitizer on his hands as he walked towards the room where Lacey was placed. He stopped in the doorway with a smile as he watched mohan had her phone propped up playing some kids show while her and Lacey colored a cartoon bear.

“Dr. Mohan, how is my tiny friend doing?” Robby asked, smiling as Lacey quickly flipped over her coloring page and would contrine to draw something on the blank backing.

“Good, CT came back clear, she had a headache so i gave her some kids tylenol and i’ve been keeping her busy just in case she has a concussion from the carseat.” Mohan quickly debriefed, turning off the cartoons on her phone.

Robby nodded and motioned for the door. 

Samira nodded and got up and walked outside with robby. “She can be discharged, we were able to get a hold of his daughter in-law, said she’d tell his children and pick up lacey.” Robby gave Samira a run down, she nodded and quickly walked to the nearest desk to start the discharge paperwork.

Robby walked back into the room, smiling as Lacey looked up and smiled before going back to coloring.

Lacey quietly placed down her crayon and bit her lip as she looked up at robby. “Is pop-pop gonna be ok?” She asked, clasping her hands together in her lap, robby’s felt tugging at his heart.

With a heavy sigh, Robby sat down beside the bed and looked at Lacey and nodded. “He might just be a bit weak for a bit, but he’ll get stronger, he was proud to hear about how brave you were during the crash.” Robby added, remembering the old man's grin at the news his granddaughter swooped in like a hero.

“Will he be better by christmas?” She asked, making Robby nod.

“Oh good!” She grinned down at her hands. “Your grandpa said you’re a ballerina?” Robby’s question put a spark in that little face.

She perked up and nodded, moving the warm blanket on her lap back, to show her pale pink tights and tutu. “I’m gonna be in the nutcracker!” She told Robby confidently. “Oh yeah, what are you gonna do for the show?” He asked, leaning in, placing his elbows on his knees.

“I’m a rat and a petal!” She said excitedly, making Robby laugh at her first role. 

“A rat?” He asked, a slight teasing tone stuck in the back of his throat.

“Mmhm, and we get to run on stage and play for a bit.” She explained, making Robby chuckle. “Are you excited to perform?”

Lacey shrugged, “I’ve been a rat before, my grammy said that– that she hopes I'll be a good petal.” 

Robby nodded, Lacey tapped her shoes together, “My mommy was Clara when she was little.” Lacey added, making Robby raise a brow. “Who’s clara?” His question made the little girl look at him with wide eyes.

Lacey had explained the nutcracker the best she could as a five year old. Telling Robby how her grandmother owned the ballet studio, and how her grandmother would tell stories to all dancers of her daughter; the prima ballerina.

“I think that when I like ballet.” Lacey concluded.

“Sounds like you’re from a talented family.” Robby complimented, as he went to talk some more a knock on the door made the pair look over to see samira with a middle aged woman beside her.

“Oh buggie, you doing ok?” She rushed over to the five year old who nodded, and smiled. 

Robby took the discharge paperwork from samira and handed it to the woman, noticing the woman’s appearance; a ballet studio jacket wrapped around the lady’s waist.

“Vital’s are holding well, she just had a minor headache from the crash but some kids tylenol should fix it, other than that, miss lacey is here is set to go!” Robby smiled down at the little girl who nodded at his words.

“What do you say honey?” The older woman tilted her head towards both samira and robby’s direction. Lacey smiled. “Thank you for taking care of me.” She bowed her head before reaching for the woman to pick her up.

“Um, i called his kids, they should be down here sometime soon.” The woman informed Robby who nodded and smiled at the news.

Robby nodded at the news before smiling to lacey. “You have a good nutcracker show, and be good for your mom!” Robby pointed at the little girl, not seeing her look of confusion as he pointed to her aunt when talking about her mom.

Exiting the room, robby walked back to the staff room for more coffee.

 - - - - - - - -

Dana’s eyes widened as the staff elevators opened to show an un-ideal pair, the neurological attending and the top cardiology resident.

Both walking up to the central desk, they both sighed at Dana's look. “What a hellish duo, what poor soul needs both of you..?”

The cardiologist laughed; dr. Joseph laughed, “Your car trauma patient is our dad.” 

Dana chuckled before pointing the two in the direction of the room.

“Where’s primadonna?” The neurological attending, dr. Thomas asked. “Running late, like usual..” Both joked before entering the trauma room.

With a heft sigh, robby walked to central and raised an eyebrow as you ran out of the staff elevators, panting as you slid up to central.

“You alright?” Robby asked, noticing the frantic look.

“Yeah, yeah just peachy!” you muttered before making your way to the trauma room, robby following behind you.

As you opened the doors, the two gazes of your brothers landed on you. “There she is..finally.” Thomas playfully scoffed, making you walk over and smack the back of his arm, before smiling down at your father.

"Woah, did they find something I didn’t see?” Robby asked, as he entered the room to see you three surrounding the bed. “Dr. Robby, this is our father.” Joseph smiled at the man’s shocked expression.

“You three?” He motioned for all three of you.

Your father chuckled at robby’s face, “My swimmers make doctors.” He joked, earning groans from all of you three.

“Gross.” Thomas squinted in disgust.

“That’s nasty dad...” You gagged.

“La la la, I don't hear anything!” Joseph covered his ears, shaking his head like a child.

Robby laughed, and patted the older man’s leg. “You make the hospital’s best doctors.” He complimented, you smirked at robby. “Careful robinavitch, sounds like a compliment.” You teased before rubbing your father’s head in comfort. “It might be one..dr. glinda” He teased, neither of you seeing the looks exchanged by your family members

“The question now is, what floor is taking him up?” Robby asked, crossing his arms 

“Neurology can take him.” Thomas sighed, making you laugh. “And say what to Gloria, he’s there cause he has a headache?” Your words make Thomas roll his eyes before pushing you lightly.

“I can check if we have a bed available.” Joseph suggested, already reaching for his pager.

“The ICU has an open bed now.” You raised an eyebrow at Robby who made a face of uncertainty. “I think cardiology might be the safest option at least for now.” Robby nodded, waiting as your brother began talking to a nurse.

As you stood next to the trauma bed you froze, Lacey was in the car with him.

“Where’s the other passenger that was with him?” You asked, your panic rising.

Thomas looked up equally as nervous. “She was just released, no abnormalities.” Robby filled you both in, watching as relief washed over you both.

“Marissa took her to the studio with mom, and we have a fresh clean room with dad’s name on it.” Joseph nodded, you bit your lip at the news.

“She’s a brave girl, EMT’s said she escaped her carseat and managed to find your dad’s phone and called for an ambulance.” Robby’s words make you perk up, a small smile on your face.

“Oh babybug..” You muttered, quickly searching for your phone before leaving the room and towards the ambulance bay.

“Is she alright?” Robby asked, a bit worried, both of your brothers nodded. “Yeah, she just needs a minute, perfect time to switch him to our floor.” Joseph shrugged, making Robby chuckle before nodding.

 - - - - - - - -

As you walked outside of the ambulance bay, you stopped and sat down by the bushes, scrolling through your contact’s till you spotted your sister in law.

As the phone rang your foot began to tap the cement. 

A tiny tap made you glance up and sigh in relief. Lovebug smiled at you, two pieces of paper in her hand, the other had her rabbit.

“Are you ok babybug?” You asked, running your hand over her little head. She nodded, making her tiny pigtails flop. “I wanted to give these to my friends.” she explained, handing you the papers. 

Marissa, your sister in law just chuckled. “She refused to leave the parking lot without giving them to someone to give them out.” She explained, earning a chuckle.

You checked over your daughter once more before letting her go. “How did auditions go?” You asked, making lacey giggle loudly. “I’m gonna be a rat and a petal!” She cheered, making you gasp before hugging her tightly. “Oh my goodness, I'm so happy for you!” You laughed.

You sighed, knowing it’d only be a few hours before you’d see lacey again at home. “Ok, i’ll let you and aunt marissa go back to the studio but i’ll pick you up in..about four more hours ok?” You told the little girl who nodded.

She took the paper and showed you each drawing of their names on the back.

“This is for the dr. mohan and this is for dr. robby!” She told you with a serious expression.

You nodded and giggled before waving them off to the parking lot.

Once you saw them very distant, you turned to the hospital and sighed, walking back in.

Robby stood at central, softly smiling at you. “You doing ok?” he asked, lightly bumping you. With a nod you sighed and leaned on the desk. “This is for you.” You handed him the paper, he looked at you confused. “Now if you excuse me, I'm gonna go find samira.” You smiled at him before walking away.

Both princess and Perlah sat at central, grinning at each other. “Do you think it's a love note?” Perlah asked in Tagalog

“Has to be..” Princess responded, both watching as Robby's face gained a soft smile.

He leaned against central, opening the folded paper, it had been a semi colored page, flipping it around robby grinned at the drawing.

It was a stick figure of Lacey in a bed with a stick figure of Robby beside her. The squiggly words written on top. 

“Thank you dr. robinavitch! - Lacey”

Robby chuckled, the little girl sure knew how to melt hearts, it was easy to tell both you and her were related..even though robby thinks she's your niece…

next pt!!!

robby taglist: @nerdgirljen @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange @snowflames-world @evans-dejong @whimiscalfungiforager @kmc1989 @foolishseven @coffinheartz @itschelseacisneros @rhysology

[hyperfixiation-station]

Behind Enemy Lines Pt.3

CW: swearing, injuries, medical inaccuracies Summary: You were a friendly medic, captured years ago and held prisoner, forced to do do the bidding of your captors. Years later, a man by the name of Ghost is dragged in and changes the trajectory of your life. A/N: I had severe ADHD, and i am unmedicated rn, and it makes it really hard to work on things unless I get the hyperfocused drive for it, so I'm sorry I'm so bad at making the other parts to my fics. Know that I will never abandon them. it just might take me a while. Edit: Fixed Pronoun continuity 1.1k words(I figured out word count on google docs) Idea Playlist Part 1 Part 2

"It's not the simple." The nurse says calmly, "do you see how their skin has grown over the stitching? The thread has fused to their skin. We can't just 'pull it out'."

"Well then what do you have to do?" Price snaps, "We need them to talk."

"They won't be 'talking' for a good long while. Their jaw is dislocated, and shows signs of having been that way for years. No matter what we do it keeps falling back out of place. It will be wired shut for the next few months. Besides," The nurses crosses his arms, " I wouldn't be surprised if they never talk again. The level of trauma they've sustained is..."

"I don't give a fuck about their 'levels of trauma'." Price runs a hand over his face, "They are the only source of information we have on this group. We need answers."

"Yeah well, you released them into my care. And I say they need rest and rehabilitation. You can't talk to them yet. And if you keep arguing with me, I won't let you see Ghost either."

"You can't-"

"Oh I can. You maybe be large and in charge out there, but once you enter these doors? This is my house. And I say you need to leave. So go."

"Go, John." Price whips around as Laswell rounds the corner. She looks haggard, a look in her eyes that tells him there's something more going on.

"Kate-"

"You can't do anything right now. Go. there's a file in my office you need to read." Price huffs, spinning on his heel and stalking out.

" i want update's on their condition." Laswell tells the nurse, "You have my full permission to do whatever is needed to get them healthy again. Treat them as you would a friendly, not an enemy."

"Yes ma'am." Laswell dismisses the nurse, watching as he walks back down the hallway and out of sight. She lets out a long sigh, running a hand through her hair. It was gonna be a looooong week.

~~~~

"You're alright luv, we ain't gonna hurt you." The nurse says, gently pulling your hair out of your face and tying it back, "We're just gonna take a look at your injuries, mkay?"

You nod warily, eyes blown wide. This scene is familiar to you in more ways than one. You know that tone, those words, they are things you said countless times before your capture, your hands smoothing back hair, wiping away tears.

But those memories are tainted with fear. The antiseptic, the white coats, the needles, the tools. All things that got you to your current state. The fact that you are handcuffed to the bed doesn't help.

"We're gonna start with getting an IV set up. mkay luv? it's just gonna be some pian meds and some hydration." The nurse says as she inspects your arms, grimacing at the track marks on them.

You let soft a soft whine, shaking your head as another nurse approaches you with the IV.

"You're extremely dehydrated luv, we need to get some fluids in you. It'll only hurt for a moment." The nurses grabs your arm, tying the tourniquet around your bicep.

You close your eyes, trying to breathe through the panic. In through the nose, out through the mouth. except you can't breathe through your mouth.

"Breathe, luv." The nurse says soothingly, "Slow down." But you can't. you can't you can't you can't you can't you can't. Oh God what if they follow through? They said if you couldn't obey they'd out your tongue out next. You want to protest, but you can't. They took that away from you.

You lets out another distressed whine, tear sliding down your cheeks. You can barely breathe, your nose filling up with snot. You strain against the handcuffs at the feeding tube is yanked out your nose, the burning sensation barely noticeable over your panic. Something new is shoved in, a cannula to force oxygen into your body.

"Lets push some ketamine, we need them complaint for the tests."

"Can someone restrain their legs, they keep kicking!"

"This tube is disgusting, they did not maintain things properly. Lets book 'em for a J-tube."

"Oh God, their mouth."

"It'll be okay luv, we'll have you right as rain soon." The nurse from before smiles kindly at you before everything goes dark.

~~~~~~~

The first thing Ghosts notices is that he's no long restrained. He feigns sleep, straining his ears to listen for the signs of anyone in the room. All he hears is the whir of air conditioning and the beeping of a heart monitor. The air smells of antiseptic. A hospital then.

He opens his, blinking hard to clear his vision. His muscles relax as he realizes he's back on base, safe at last. it's then that his brain registers the pain. It's dull, probably because of the pain meds coursing through his system, but its there.

Everything hurts, a dull ache pulsing through his muscles. His side hurts the worst, and as he looks down at his hospital gown, he remembers.

"Fucking fix him." The medic stumbled into his cell, their eyes wide as they stared at him. he cried out, straining against his bond ss the medic stuck their hands in the gaping wound on his side.

His vision blurred, black dots dancing in front of his eyes. Fuck. he was going die. He didn't want to die. Not now. not when he'd finally found people worth fighting for.

He blinks, and suddenly Soaps face is above his. Oh God, he really was dying, wasn't he.

"-We'll shoot you." Shoot him? Why were they going to shoot him? To put him out of his misery? He moaned as thy started moving, the motion sending burning pain through his body.

And the medic. the medic was still there, their stupid masked face next to Soaps as he was carried away.

Ghost blinks, shaking the memory off. The medic was here. The medic was here. He didn't think to much on it though, as the cocktail of drugs he is on drags him back under.

~~~~~~~

Price stared at the file on Laswell's desk, a sick feeling in his stomach. It contained all the dossiers on a team that had been K.I.A, 4 soldiers...and a medic.

It was you, no doubt a bout it. You had a light in your eyes that was gone now, your hair was short, your skin unblemished. But it was undoubtedly you.

8 years. You had been presumed dead for 8 years. 8 years you had spent in an enemy base, being tortured and broken. It made Price sick.

"Well?" Laswell leans against the door, " You gonna take them?"

"What?" Price spins around, staring hard at her.

"You've got a thing for strays, John. You don't want this one?" Price huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.

"I don't think I'm the only one with a thing for strays, eh Kat?" With that, he dumps the files into a printer and make 3 copies, one for each of his men.

"Ghost is gonna love this."

A/N: yay! Part 3 is here! Hope yall enjoy :) Ghost and the medic will actually get to interact in the next part. Sorry about the medical stuff, I'm not a nurse or anything so the interacions might sound weird. Also sorry, this one is also kind of short lol tags: I definitely didn't get them all, I'm sorry there was just so many of you @smile6890 @cricricorner @unclearblur @redzluvvesage @just-a-harmless-potato-05  @vesna-the-spring @princess312 @norsehorseofcourse-blog @bonniperinktrance @soggywafflezz  @littlebunie @sirbonesly @havoc973 @mommymilkers0526 @thegreyjoyed @pinkiliciousgunp0int @poopoobuttsy @darcellethedreamer @kamote-kuneho @z-wantstowrite @i-ate-ur-fries @fakeguysarehot @shitrandom @yunho-leeknow @idontreallyexistyet @smile6890 @thesehandsarerated-e

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You're struggling through your pregnancy, trying to stay calm as your worries about Bradley grow as quickly as the baby. Bradley wants to put his best foot forward at work, making himself available for office hours, but maybe he's made himself too accessible.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, smut, pregnancy topics, lactation kink, jealous

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley's new office was coming along nicely. Everything was standard issue Navy grade, but he started adding some touches here and there to make it look more personal. The file cabinet was covered in ultrasound photos, one column of Rosie and one of her younger sibling. 

He glanced at the wedding photo on his desk before adjusting it and wincing. You were still mad this morning that he overdid it at the Hard Deck last night, but he wished you would just let it go. It's not like he drove home drunk or anything. Nat and the guys were just excited to learn he was going to have another kid. The drinks just kept coming.

There was a knock on the door, and then Maverick poked his head inside. "You have a minute?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied, waving him inside. "It's not like I can tell you no. You're my commanding officer, Mav."

The older man chuckled, setting some folders on the desk. "I need you to keep all of the forms updated for each of the pilots. It's best if you work on it every day and then update the hard copies. You should have time to do this between visits during your office hours."

Today was the first time Bradley was holding office hours, and honestly he felt a bit like a college professor: the aviators were kind of his students, and he was responsible for making sure they were prepared to fly.

"Not sure how busy my office hours will be," Bradley muttered. He should probably send a text to remind you he'd be home a little later than usual tonight. While he didn't want to make a habit of missing dinner with his girls, this was a far cry better than being deployed. 

"You might be surprised," Maverick replied with a smile as he backed toward the door. "You've got a lot to show the others, Lieutenant Commander."

Then he was gone, and Bradley could feel the warmth rising in his cheeks. He just wanted to prove himself, but the first time someone had him up against the wall, scrambling for an answer, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. He'd only started to advertise his extra hours during today's lecture, so it would probably be another week or so until someone came to him for any sort of guidance on a Monday evening. But he would try to be ready.

He was just opening one of the folders from Maverick when there was another knock on his door. This time when he looked up, he was met with a flight suit complete with a Golden Warriors patch identical to the one he wore. That would have been enough to let him know it was Indigo, but then he met her eyes as he stood up behind his desk.

"Lieutenant Jeffries," he greeted with a smile as she strode inside. "How can I help you?"

She studied his face with a knowing look for a few seconds before breaking out into a smile of her own. "Sir, I can think of so many ways you could help me. It's not even funny."

Bradley blinked, brow furrowed as he examined her. "Well, why don't you start with an easy one? It's been a long day. And something tells me you might be regretting the late start you got at the Hard Deck last night."

Her laughter filled the room. "I could never regret finding the officer hangout before the rest of my peers from Texas. I need to keep the edge I have over Rex and Spice." When she started to close the door, Bradley frowned.

"Keep it open," he said casually, reaching out to catch it before it shut. He didn't want anyone thinking he was playing favorites, and the little pout on Indigo's lips convinced him she wanted to be his favorite aviator. But she didn't argue. She simply sat down on the edge of the couch and looked up at him.

"The easiest way you can help me is by telling me where I can improve," she said, fingers toying with the zipper at her neck. "I want to be the best you've ever seen."

------------------------------

You couldn't tell if Cat was actually annoyed with you or if she was just teasing, but you were too exhausted from a restless night to care.

"I can't believe Bradley told Jake you're pregnant before you told me yourself! I just saw you last night!"

Her gaze dipped down to your belly as you stood before her in the lab. You knew you were showing. There was no denying it now. You had a bunch of appointments coming up with Dr. Morris, and you were just going to keep getting bigger until you had to wear the maternity tent again. You knew you were already huge and that you'd probably never be your normal size ever again. And the last thing you wanted was Cat Coleman of all people scrutinizing your appearance when she always looked pristine.

Everything was made worse by Bradley's interactions with Indigo. She was everywhere on base, but now she had taken over your bar, too. You saw her this morning but managed to duck out of the way before those piercing eyes landed on you. She knew what you looked like now, and Cat's gaze lingering on your belly was doing nothing to give you a boost of confidence.

"Please make sure you're eating and drinking enough," she told you. "We don't want another repeat of Annapolis where you could barely give a presentation. Or a repeat of the day you fell at work."

You gritted your teeth. "This pregnancy doesn't even feel like my last one. Okay? I'm eating just fine. Too well, actually."

You turned on your heel, boot squeaking on the floor and headed out to collect Rose from daycare. Everything was just a reminder of your size right now. Visions of candy bars danced in your head as you told yourself you'd go home and eat a sensible dinner while Bradley held his office hours. But you already knew... you just knew Indigo would squeeze her way in there with her pretty eyes and her perky tits. And your husband seemed to be oblivious to her. At least you'd tried to convince yourself he wasn't actively looking. But you knew she found him attractive. You could smell it on her a mile away.

Tears filled your eyes as you approached the daycare facility. If he was looking at her, you couldn't blame him. Indigo was beautiful, her body stunning even in her flight suit. Meanwhile you looked like an exhausted, lumpy, khaki-covered potato with acne and zero energy.

"Let's go home," you whispered to Rose, trying to smile at the daycare staff as you pushed her out in her stroller.

You were absolutely fine. You were totally fine. Or at least you would be. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

But all week long, you heard the same collection of call signs spilling from Bradley's lips, and Indigo's was always the first one. She was the fastest, most cunning, smartest, most decisive pilot he'd ever flown with. Any time you asked him a question about work, she was the answer. And he was late coming home almost every day.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Sorry, I had to stay in the infirmary with Spice after she strained her shoulder," he said, rushing inside on Friday night as you made dinner. "She couldn't even raise her arm to get her helmet off."

He kissed your cheek, letting his hand rest on your belly for a beat before he ended up on the floor next to Rose's play mat where she was trying her hardest to crawl to Tramp. As soon as Bradley showed up, she changed her mind and tried to get to him instead.

You pressed your lips together as you turned off the stove burner. "Did anyone else stay with you and Spice?"

"Yeah, Indigo hung out," he replied easily, brushing his fingers along Rose's hair with a smile. You swallowed hard, watching him on his hands and knees in his khaki uniform. He looked so good. Like ridiculously good. Broad shoulders and big biceps and a handsome smile.

"Why am I not surprised?" you muttered, turning away from him.

"I think they're friends," he said. "It's kind of amusing getting to experience the love and hate dynamics amongst the group. The women tend to stick together on the ground, but anything goes in the air."

Your stomach ached with hunger pangs, and the only thing you wanted to eat was ice cream. When you realized you'd eaten a frozen burrito barely an hour ago, you desperately wanted to go to bed hungry, but you started to feel guilty about the baby.

"My parents listed their house today," you announced, trying to change the subject before you started to cry.

"Did you hear that, Nugget?" Bradley scooped Rose up in his arms and carried her into the kitchen where you were plating two meals. "Your grandparents are moving here to spend more time with you. And next summer, we'll take you and your little brother or sister back to Virginia to see where ol' Goose and Carole used to live, okay?"

He peppered her face with kisses until she was giggling wildly, and every negative thought started to get fuzzy around the edges. When his brown eyes met yours, you nodded toward the table, and his arm slipped around your waist.

-----------------------------

Bradley came home from his office hours on Monday to find you wearing only his old UVA shirt. The soft cotton was hugging your bump and showing off your legs, and he was ready to get on his knees and beg for you.

After he put Rose in her crib for the night, he met you in bed where you were wearing your glasses, your face freshly scrubbed. He was plainly getting hard in his gym shorts the more he looked at you. It was so obvious. When you stood on your knees and coaxed him closer with your finger, he met you there.

"I hope you know how good you have it, Roo," you whispered against his lips.

He knew. He knew all about it. He let his hand slide down over your belly, keeping you in place when you tried to scoot away. Then his fingers slowly yanked up the hem of his shirt until he was touching your pussy. 

"Of course I know it, Baby Girl." He circled your clit with his middle finger before slipping it inside you. "I've got my Rosie. And my hot, pregnant wife with her perfect pussy." When you whimpered, he kissed your nose. "I've got it all."

You dragged the shirt up over your belly and chest, tossing it aside. For a beat, Bradley went completely dizzy at the sight of your tits. Then you made everything better by placing your hands on your breasts, working them until beads of milk appeared. Your head was tipped back, pussy squeezing his middle finger, and Bradley almost lost his mind.

His kisses were rough. He knew it. But you were whining Roo as he got undressed, and then you were guiding his lips to your tits. He had to have it dirty. His cock was so fucking hard, he needed to make you scream.

"Oh, fuck," he growled as his lips grazed your nipple, lapping up your milk until he thought he was going to pass out. Every inch of your body was so sweet and supple, but he wanted you babbling and begging.

Bradley meticulously cleaned you up until you were clinging onto him, then he pushed you onto your back. Without hesitation, he started fucking you. When you needed a hand over your mouth to keep from waking Rose, he was all too happy to help. When you spread your legs wider, he watched his cock glide inside your welcoming body over and over again until he felt his orgasm in his balls.

"Shit. I'm gonna cum," he groaned, waiting until you nodded against his palm to lose himself. Hips thrusting, filling you with shallow strokes, he fucked you until your pussy was dripping. He watched the mess he made dribble down your ass before catching it with his fingertips. "I swear I don't think I can keep my cock out of you long enough for you to not be pregnant ever again."

You snorted before reaching for his hand and bringing it to your lips. "After this one, I'm going right back on the pill. No more slip ups," you whispered. Bradley watched as your tongue darted out, licking his sticky cum and swallowing every drop.

"No more slip ups," he echoed, smiling at your belly. He'd never consider this a mistake. Not in a million years. A surprise? Absolutely. But not a mistake.

Bradley's phone lit up where it had been discarded on the floor when you slipped into the bathroom. He had a text from an unknown number with a Virginia area code. At first, he thought it might be his cousin Brenda letting him know she had a new phone number, but when he opened the message, his brow creased in confusion at first.

Lieutenant Commander, thanks for spending so much time with me today in your office today.

Only three people had been in his office with him earlier. One was Maverick. One was Forrest who he had to reprimand. The third was Indigo. Bradley hadn't been giving out this number, but it was readily available if anyone wanted to look through the registry in the lobby of the building where his small office was housed.

He scratched the rough stubble along his jaw, contemplating if he should respond after nine in the evening. He saved her number under her call sign and tossed his phone on the bed when you walked back in with a smile on your face. He should wait until the morning to respond if at all.

You yawned when he passed you. "I'm ready for bed, Roo."

"Give me a minute to brush my teeth, and I'm right behind you."

---------------------------

By the end of the week, your parents had two offers on the house where you were raised. They were officially downsizing to a cute bungalow a few streets over in Coronado, and you were excited. Or you wanted to be.

But every time you let your heart fill with happiness over your parents or the baby, you remembered that Indigo was texting your husband. You saw it for yourself. Right after he fucked you so good, you could barely walk, you glanced down at his phone on your bed. He had her number saved in his phone, and you wanted to cry.

You could ask him for permission to look at his phone. You could see what his reaction was. That would give you a good gauge of what exactly was going on between them. But Bradley had never once asked you to hand your phone over to him. He'd ever insinuated that there would be a reason he didn't trust you. 

Unsure what else to do, you sat in your office during your lunch break and cried. The tears were hot and miserable on your cheeks, and a headache instantly started brewing behind your eyes. It took you almost ten minutes to get yourself under control, and by then you didn't even feel like going to the cafeteria for food.

When someone knocked, you looked up at your door. Maybe it was Bradley. Maybe you could get his phone from him somehow and check it yourself. "Come in," you called, voice soft from all the tears you'd shed. Instead of your husband, Jake strolled inside. "Did you get lost? Cat's probably in the lab."

"Aww, come on, Angel," he drawled, dropping down into your extra chair. "I came all the way up here to see you."

"Oh." You were a little surprised. Everyone was so busy as the last quarter of the year was beginning, you felt like you hadn't seen much of him.

"Why do you look so sad?" he asked, already leaning forward to stand again. "Want me to grab you and the baby something to eat and bring it up here?"

"No," you told him quickly. "I'm fine. Just a little stressed." You tried to smile, but you felt like you could cry again. "Are you having a slow day?"

"Nah." He leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. "Just had to get away from your annoying husband and his band of misfits clogging up the comms with their exercises."

"Band of misfits?" you asked with a soft laugh.

"Bunch of children," he replied with an eye roll. "Look like they just graduated from high school." His eyes went wide. "Oh shit, that probably means I look old now."

"You don't look too bad for someone older than me," you promised with a smirk. "Hey, do you know anything about any of those new pilots?"

"I know they like to hog the line in the cafeteria. One of them took the last slice of pizza yesterday, and I had to wait for a new pie to finish baking. Food should be based on seniority. I outrank all of them."

You were laughing at his smile now. "Hey, maybe I should get something to eat. And it might be nice to get out of my office for a few minutes."

"I'll walk you down." Jake stood and helped you to your feet. "Can't hang out too long though. Mav has a fire under his ass about getting Phoenix, Bob and I in the air this afternoon."

You headed to the cafeteria with Jake, getting a chance to hear his side of the wedding plans after listening to Cat for weeks. They wanted something small and simple, but he assured you there would be room for the Bradshaws on the guest list. Once you had a tray piled high with a salad, breadsticks and once slice of pizza, you took a seat while Jake headed back out to the tarmac to get back to work.

Your lunch tasted incredible. The cheese from the pizza was practically melting in your mouth. When the cafeteria started clearing out, there were only a few tables occupied, and you started stacking the plates on your tray. You could have a calm, reasonable conversation with your husband. He'd let you look at his phone, and everything would be fine.

"Okay, but what's up with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?"

Your eyes darted up from your tray to find two officers sitting a short distance away. The one facing you had a patch on her flight suit that said SPICE, and you recognized her call sign from conversations with Bradley.

"He's hot, but he's wearing a wedding band," she added.

You swore your heart stopped at her words. Then you realized that the woman with her back to you was Indigo. Her jet black hair was wound up in a tight bun that accentuated her long neck even from behind, and her laughter set your teeth on edge.

"I already told you," she said, and you had to stop breathing to make sure you heard every word. "His wife is a civvy. I saw her at the bar the only night he showed up. They have one kid, and apparently she's pregnant again. At least that's what I heard Lieutenant Trace saying."

"What does his wife look like?" Spice asked, casually taking a sip of her drink as if your world wasn't crumbling to pieces.

"It was hard to tell in the dark, but her face seemed okay. Nice-ish body, but come on..." Indigo gestured to herself. "The man's only human, and his wife is definitely older than me. That much is easy to tell. And she'll be huge again soon."

You tried to get up from your seat quickly, fighting with yourself to get out of the room, but it was too late. Both of them were standing now, still chatting as Indigo turned your way. As soon as her eyes landed on your face, you saw them widen. That pretty blue color looked terrifying as a smile of recognition spread across her lips.

Indigo absolutely knew who you were now. Her eyes dipped down to the hyphenated name pinned against your chest, and now she knew you weren't a random civilian. She knew you were an officer who worked on North Island. She knew way too much as she took in every inch of your body. And she looked really pleased by what she saw.

-----------------------------

He has his sweet moments, but Roo doesn't see the bigger picture here. Next chapter will reveal if Rose is going to have a brother or a sister. Any guesses? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 33

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[infinityinakiss]

Do you have top 3 pazzi pics?

edit: so i'm blind and can't read apparently. just pretend you asked for fics cause i don't have the heart to delete this and i'll make another post with my pics. this is so embarrassing for me.

it'd be easier to pick a favorite child, man. i'm gonna spotlight a couple (a ton) of authors with my favorite fics by them, but just know i am absolutely in love with anything they write. this post is about to be so long.

@imaginespazzi - anything nivi writes is a godsend. golden hour broke me a thousand different ways, as i'm sure it did many other people, but if you like a fluffy fic, i reread their here's to eternity series whenever i wanna smile at my screen like an idiot.

@luvergirl-535 - actually so good and so funny, her that's so true series is like the perfect mixture of comedy and angst. she's such a wholehearted author, i love her writing so much.

@loeysoi - everything she writes is so beautiful. she says her favorite fic that she's written is thinking of you (while i'm up here), but i've got such a soft spot for weren't we the salt in the sea. lyra, if you see this, your writing is so lovely and if you'd like to update salt in the sea, i wouldn't be opposed.

@azzibuckets - trying to pick one thing that cessa's written is giving me anxiety, so just read all of it. also, follow her and put her notifs on, she's so funny. literally such a beautiful person to follow online.

@bucketgetter535 - wanna feel like you're 15 again and it is all so bright and fireflies aren't going extinct, but also everything is insanely complicated and nobody will tell you anything? read their fic this is not a cry for help (but it might be). i personally love writing that reads like thoughts, that doesn't try to be anything less than it is, and this fic is it. (also there is a little soft spot in my heart for i don't even like her.)

@theseh00perscanh00p - genuinely one of my favorite authors on here, reading their writing is like being given a tight hug (most of the time at least, this new series has been tearing my heart out.) par for the heart is so sweet, not very angsty, and i just love paige and azzi's character voice in it.

@raevpng - rae, i love your writing so fucking much, i basically live in your anons because you're so good and i feel the need to constantly glaze you. i am actually so obsessed with their new series only you, go read it now if you know what's good for you. their one shots are so incredible, bags is a personal favorite of mine.

@azzibueckers5 - their series i wanna know peace again (wanna sing a different song) is one of my top rereads, it's truly so well written and emotional and just everything that i don't think i can fully articulate how much i love it without kissing them on the cheeks like an italian grandma.

@sowerpatch - i've been so hooked on their series terms of play, the tension and the dynamic is so good and so addictive. paige in this fic has balls the size of australia and it always makes my jaw drop.

so yeah. there's my very short and sweet top 3 pazzi fics. totally didn't go overboard.

psa: i love that here it's normal to send an anon so you can really show the authors how much you appreciate em. but it has broken my heart to see people abuse the very thing i love about the fandom to make authors feel unsafe. this is your daily reminder that fic authors are people too and they have their own lives besides writing. try not to hound them too much about when they're gonna update, and always give them grace. they are creating beautiful art for free because they love to. don't ruin that for them.

and if you threaten authors and run them off the internet because they fear for their safety, you are the actual scum of the earth.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

butterflygirl738 (7)

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, sickness, medical bills, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You love butterflies and your mother, but life isn’t that simple. As life gets complicated, and expensive, you find yourself in need and an unexpected miracle presents itself.

Characters: Steve Rogers (CEO/Sugar Daddy)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“You were right about the mac and cheese,” you say as you wipe your mouth with a napkin. 

S glances over with a smile. “You liked it?” 

“Sure do,” you tap the side of the plate. “But it’s too much for me. I could save the rest.” 

“Sure,” he gets up and crosses the room. He moves the cover back over your dish. 

“Oh, thank,” you say as you set the used napkin on the tray. You quickly catch a yawn in your hands. “Oof, I’m sorry. Woke up early for the doctor.” You rub your eyes and blink at him. “I’m not very fun company, am I?” 

“You’re... calming,” he says. “All the people I deal with... they’re always performing.” He tilts his head and gives a sardonic look. “It’s been nice to get away.” 

“Must be. Even to somewhere like here,” you swallow another yawn, blinking big until your eyes water. You flick away the moisture. 

“You made it worth it,” he lingers close. “If you’re tired, lay down. I don’t mind.” 

“That’s not fair,” you try not to show how tempting the offer is. “Coming over just to knock out.” 

“Go ahead. I’ve barely used the bed,” he points to the open French doors that lead to the bedroom. “I tend to sleep in intervals.” He clucks. “Buddy calls it strategic napping.” 

“Can’t be very restful,” you say. 

“Guess not but sometimes I don’t have eight hours to spare,” he taps his toe. “Please, go lay down. You look beat.” 

You give a sheepish smile. Why does he care so much? Another thorn digs in. 

“S?” 

“You been caring for your mom. Let me care for you,” he puts his hand on your shoulder and squeezes. He slowly draws away. 

You look down, “twist my arm.” You stand up slowly. “Don’t let me sleep too long. Just an hour or two.” 

“Alright,” he agrees. “I’ll get some work done.” 

You hesitantly move around him. It’s awkward. It’s just another thing you’re taking from him. His bed, his time... Won’t he get tired of that sooner than later? 

You stop and turn back to him. 

“S?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he glances at his phone, his eyes crinkling at what he reads. 

“Can I... give you a hug?” 

He puts his phone on the table and faces you. “You don’t gotta ask.” 

He opens his arms. You slowly unfold yours and step closer. It felt like a good idea but now it’s a bit... tense. You wrap your arms around him and he closes you in his. You shiver at the warmth seeping from him into you. 

“Thank you,” you press your cheek to his chest. “Really, I can’t say it enough.” 

He keeps one arm firmly hooked around you as his other hand rubs your back. The soothing motion makes your skin prickle. He squeezes. 

“No problem, sweetie.” He rocks you slightly. 

You stay like that, too embarrassed and too afraid to break too soon. 

“Alright, I think... I might fall asleep on my feet,” you ease from his hold and his hands brush along the robe as he pulls back. 

“Yeah, go, sleep,” he pivots away. “I gotta answer this before he sends another damn email.” 

He snatches up his phone and turns away. He mutters under his breath. You back up and watch how his shirt tautens across his shoulders. You spin and tiptoe into the bedroom. 

You can worry when you wake up. Right now, you’re just too tired to keep track of all your doubts. 

🦋

You wake with a start. You’re on your stomach, arm beneath the pillow you have your face buried in. Your head is cloudy as you lift it and your lashes stick together before you can pry them apart. You roll over and the sight of the dark window sends you into a panic. 

You kick away the blankets and scramble out of bed. You hurry to the doors, the left one left open just a crack, and you pull it open. S sits at the table, a pair of glasses on as he has a laptop open. You have no time to process the seen as you scurry out. 

“S, it’s late,” you cheep. “Why did you let me sleep so long?” 

He calmly looks up and smooths the creases from his forehead. He pushes his shoulders wide and takes of his glasses. He puts them beside the keyboard of the table. 

“I tried to wake you up,” he says. “You were so tired. I could get you to do more than roll over...” 

His voice trails off as his eyes fall down. You follow his gaze. Shoot. The robe hangs open, exposing your naked legs. You quickly pull it around you, hot from your accusation and accidental flash. 

“Um, I’m sorry to... I didn’t... I...” You sputter. 

“You slept heavy. Probably a bit disorienting waking up here. You’re not used to it,” he shrugs. “I really did try but... seems like you needed the sleep.” 

“Right, I... it was nice but...” 

“You can call your mom. Let her know maybe you got backed up at your new job?” He suggests coolly. He’s a fast thinker. You’re a terrible liar. The type that adds too much detail when a simple explanation will do. 

“Sure, I can let her know I’m gonna be home soon.” You agree and look around. 

You find your phone on the arm of the sofa. You don’t remember leaving it there but you can’t really remember when you last had it. You take it and head for the bedroom. 

“You can always stay. It’s pretty late.” 

“What would I tell her? I’m working overnight?” 

“You’re an adult, aren’t you?” He challenges. 

You flinch. 

“Sure, but... no, I should go home. She needs me.” 

“Uh huh,” he picks his glasses back up and exhales. “Well, now she’s not the only one that does.” 

You blink as your brow crinkles. You turn away before he can catch you chagrined expression. You go into the bedroom and lean on the bed as you dial out. 

Your mom doesn’t pick up. You sniff as the tone for the voicemail beeps. “Hey mom, sorry I didn’t message sooner. I got tied up. Anyway, I’ll be home soon...love you.” 

You hang up and drop your arm. You stare at the window. You don’t remember anything, not even your dreams. Not even him trying to get you up. You’re embarrassed to hink about that. 

You go back out. 

“Um, I’ll need my pants,” you say sheepishly. 

“Hung them up in the bathroom,” he says without looking away from the computer. His posture is tense. 

“Look, I’m sorry if... i wasn’t meaning to accuse you--” 

“I’ve been really honest with you,” he says. “I’d say extremely. Not a lot of people would be so transparent. You know, a guy like me, he’s supposed to have an easy life. Well, it’s not.” 

“I’m... I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry, I just wish you would trust me.” 

You stand in static silence. The guilt ripples over you. Not only has he been honest, he’s been so generous. You think of today and how he so easily promised all of that money. Even after when you showed him the pamphlet, showed him how tedious it would all be. He said yes. 

“I will. I do,” you say at last. “Um, one sec.” 

You cross the room to the bathroom and dip inside. You open the robe and hang it and pull on your pants. You can still feel the residue of rain in them. Oh well. 

You come back out. “I can call a cab. You seem busy.” 

“I’ll drive,” he assures you as he closes the laptop. “Told you, I’m taking care of you. Of everything.” 

“I know. Thank you so much.” You clasp your hands together. “Really, S, I can’t say it enough.” 

He slides his glasses off again and stands up. He puts them in the case behind the computer and snaps it shut. He stretches his arms over him. 

“Come back tomorrow,” he says. “I made us some reservations.” 

“Reservations?” You repeat. “Well, S, I... I’ve been calling in and... if I keep doing that--” 

“Quit.” He looks agitated. “You don’t need those jobs. That’s the deal. I’m gonna cover everything.” 

You nod as your stomach stirs. “Oh.” 

“Oh?” His mouth slants. “It’s what we’ve been talking about. You working all the time, well, I got a lot going on. We’d never get to see each other and I mean, I’ve already missed a lot too.” 

You chew your lip. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood.” 

“It’s new. For both of us. I get it,” he softens his tone and comes closer. “You’re so used to working and doing everything, it’s hard to let go. I’m the same way.” 

“Yeah...” you murmur. “I’m really sorry if I upset you, S."

“You didn’t,” he assures you as he reaches to caress your arm. “You can’t. I just... I get in work mode and the boss face comes out.” He chuckles and slips his hand across your back and angles you toward the door, “let’s get you home. I promise, I’ll try to get more than just a few hours before tomorrow.” 

🦋

You watch the streetlights pass, the glare tinging your eyes, tweaking the fatigue still nestled behind them. You yawn as the car whirs softly. It’s almost peaceful in the empty streets. 

S drives smoothly through the town. He knows it better now. He keeps to the speed limit, taking his time. Or maybe he’s just tired. 

He rolls up to your building and shifts into park. He sighs. “I’ll miss you.” 

You look at him, “really? I feel like I kind of overstayed my welcome.” 

“Trust me, you can’t,” he puts his hand on the back of your seat as he twists in his. “You not having fun?” 

“No, of course, it’s just new and... I guess I’m not used to it yet. The... trying not to worry part.  My mom is still...” you shake your head. “I’m going to stop that.” You look at him. “S, thank you. Really. I did have a good day even if I slept for most of it.” 

“You needed that,” he says as his hand slips onto your shoulder. “You, more than anyone, has every right to be tired.” His thumb rubs you. “Sweetheart, we’re just adjusting to each other and that’s fine.” 

“Sure,” you flutter your fingers in your lap. “Right, just... gotta be patient.” 

“Yeah, patient,” his hand inches closer to your neck. “Sweetheart... can I ask you something?” 

“Okay,” you try not to focus on his touch but your skin is all speckly from it. 

“Can I have a kiss?” 

Your lips part slightly. You close them quickly. You’re surprised but you shouldn’t be. Deep down, you know it’s inevitable. Despite what he says, you have that gnawing certainty in your head. You can’t just keep taking. And it’s going to be more than just a kiss, isn’t it? 

Right now, you can do a kiss. 

“Um,” your cheeks tauten and burn. “S-sure. I can--” 

“Only if you really want to,” he pets your neck with his knuckles. “But I can tell you I really, really want to.” 

You take a breath and undo your seat belt. You’re slow and deliberate in your movement as you angle around in the chair. His hand opens and cradles your jaw, fingers framing your ear. He leans in and you meet him across the space between your sets. 

Your lips meat and his heat floods into you. His fingers curl against your head and he hums. His tongue pokes out gently and you resist. Your chest is somersaulting. 

You part and sit back in the chair. You put your hand to your chest. “I’m sorry, it’s just—been a while.” You look down and cover your mouth. You drop your hand. “Was that... okay?” 

“It was... great,” he rasps. “And uh, been a while for me too.” 

“Really?” You glance at him, face alight with self-consciousness. 

“Oh, sure. Like I said... haven’t been out on the dating scene much. When I’ve tried, well, It’s just not... genuine, you know?” He clucks and pokes his tongue into his cheek. He smiles and looks you in the eye. “That was perfect. I’ll be thinking about it all night.” 

“You will?” 

“Of course,” he winks. “What about you?” 

Your cheeks pinch and you smile. It’s been a long time since you felt anything but anxiety and doom. That was something else. You can’t quite explain what. It just wasn’t as scary as you thought. You need one thing that isn’t utterly terrifying. 

“Yeah, I think...” you look away. “It’s... it was nice.” 

“Good,” he drags his hand down your arm. “Well, have a good night.” 

“You too,” you grab your purse and pull on the door handle. “Oh, what time tomorrow?” 

“Let me know, sweetie, I don’t need you til noon,” he answers. 

“Cool, um, bye.” 

You get out and walk towards the yellow light above the building entrance. You stop to look back. He’s still there. You’re glad. You hate being out this late. 

You enter the apartment quietly. The front room light is on. You put your stuff down and sanitize your hands. You find your mother on the couch, sleeping as she hugs a pillow. 

You hope she wasn’t waiting up for you. All that fuzziness fades. The dull weight settles back into your chest. 

You tiptoe around, careful not to wake her. You know she doesn’t get as much sleep as she should. You retreat to your room and flick on the light. 

You plug in your phone as the battery flashes. As you pull off your shirt, you hear something. A soft whisper. You go to the hamper and peer through the mesh. The butterflies. Two of them have hatches and they’re happily fluttering around inside. 

You smile. A real smile. They’re so beautiful. Black, red, and white. And they’re alive. It was taking so long, you thought they wouldn’t break free. 

You’ll have to find some fruit in the fridge to leave in there for them until you can release them. First, you’re going to take a photo. Everyone will be so excited to see. 

You get a good shot through the top before they try to escape. You’ll have to go down to the cafe to post in the morning. You really can’t wait to show S. 

You sit on your bed and watch the butterflies. It’s a sign, isn’t it? Not everything is dead. It’s not over. Maybe, things are just beginning. 

[bonus-links]

rereading with the latest update to get caught up, and now I know its an option I am desperate for director's commentary on Ruins pt7, if you're willing, please

(Also I first started reading this before taking sign langauge classes, and while I am learning a different SL to ASL/whatever Slate is using, some things translate well. Which is to say I was very excited seeing Loft use thank you and other small signs, or recognising Slate's signs. Its very cool!)

OH AN OLDIE yeah sure!! i will do my best to remember wtf i was on about lol

first of all. this was posted in 2023. what do u mean it's 2025 and im only on ch2. explodes. ANYWAY.

I'm still proud of myself this this panel thing w the arrow lol where it's both coming towards the octorok and has already gone through it. this is something that didn't rlly end up making it into the final product but I don't think Slate actually makes a habit of just killing monsters willy nilly. I don't see him hunting down every monster in Hyrule after the calamity ends. He kills this octorok bc they antagonize the horses but also because. I needed an excuse for his bow to already be out HAHA

I have complicated feelings about the yiga and what their lore implies lol but for Slate's part, he has personal beef with them on account of how many times they're tried and nearly succeeded in killing him. I like to imagine the Yiga as both deeply goofy and also a serious threat at the same time lol, which i think sums up how Slate feels about them.

I did however want to take this opportunity to show his capacity to be a brutal fighter, the same way Loft is in the opening of ch1. Actually the idea for this scene even came about because in my own late-stage game I kept getting attacked by a blademaster literally every 2 feet in certain regions, and I was getting so frustrated by it I just started obliterating them with ancient arrows 💀 Slate using way more arrows than necessary was a nod to that. idk maybe this guy lived lol

this scene was also to spur comparisons between Slate and Loft's experiences. Loft is brutal with monsters, but he's never killed a human being. Realizing that the Yiga aren't monsters shocks him.

this is a failure of my own paneling bc I didn't have enough room on the page and refused to add another, but Loft is hallucinating this guardian being active. all the guardians are inactive since defeating the calamity. actually what I should have done was add a red targeting line that then disappeared in the next panel. MAN.

alright and probably what you actually wanted commentary on, first Champion sighting! The first time Slate actually sees Champion is at the end of ch1, so if you're wondering if Slate knows he's there in this scene, the answer is no. I think rather than following Slate around all along, Champion has spent most of his time just sort of. barely existing here at Fort Hateno, or sitting with the master sword. He's not exactly like the ghosts of the other champions, or King Rhoam. sorry buddy :-(

i do have a bonus comic the works re: ghost lore that I will hopefully finish. someday so I think that might answer some questions ppl have. and possibly introduce a few more. but on the whole I like to keep whatever's going on here a little ambiguous. like I said in this update's commentary, one part literal and one part metaphorical. maybe two parts metaphorical lol

I think that's all I got for this one!

[maddiesentmehere118]

Between the Sirens

An offshoot of A Stranger's Jacket Series. Can be read as a one shot. Warnings below the cut.

Evan Buck Buckley x Plus Size Reader!

Word Count: 2k

Author's Notes: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 8. Might update this, not sure. With the plot up in the air regarding Bobby, I don't want to jump the gun. But I had to get this out of my head.

Masterlist | Taglist

Warnings: needle, bodily fluids, cursing, talks of death

You had just put your niece Jee and daughter Evelyn down for bed when you got the phone call. The house is quiet, almost too quiet. And you haven’t heard from Buck all day. When your phone rings, you brighten instantly.

“Hi handsome. I was getting worried about you. How’s your shift? I just put the girls down in our bed, since you won’t be home until the morning. But I think I’m going to have to fight our daughter for my body pillow.”

“You haven’t seen the news?”

The world starts to tilt.

“I don’t want you to freak out when I tell you this. Could you uhm, sit down for me?”

Your mind kicks into overdrive. Is he hurt? Is someone on the team hurt? What could have happened that gained news coverage?

“Yeah.” You softly murmur, heading towards the couch to lower yourself down. You keep a hand on your belly, wincing. 

“Are you okay?”

Your back has been in pain all day, starting as a dull ache to a spasming pressure. You didn’t want to add stress to Buck while he was at work. You’ve gone through labor before— this wasn’t it. 

“Yeah, it’s nothing. My back’s just been bothering me all day.”

“No contractions or cramping?”

“No Dr. Buck.” You laugh. When you’re not met with another laugh, you frown. “Buck, what’s wrong?”

“We responded to a biohazard fire in a lab.” His voice catches, breathy. You hear the soft rustle of his uniform as it rubs together. He’s pacing. “I’m okay. But Hen, Chim, and Bobby—” 

It sounds like he’s choking, clearing his throat before he continues. 

“They’re trapped. It’s not good.”

You gasp, bringing a hand up to your mouth. 

“What happened? Why did you guys respond? Shouldn’t it uh— someone more experienced with biohazards have done it?”

“We didn’t know the extent of the danger.”

“I—Buck. Should I come down there? I can—I’ll call May to watch Jee and Evelyn. I need to be with you.”

“As much as I want you here, it’s safer for you at home. I don’t want you on your feet more than you need to be.”

“I can’t just sit here, Buck! That’s my family too!”

You hear chatter in the background. Then you hear that honey -smooth voice- firm, effortless, controlling the room without raising her voice. 

“Give me Athena, now.”

“Babe, they’d want you to stay at home with the girls.”

“Evan, put Athena on the damn phone.” 

You hear some hushed discussion and the sounds of the phone being handed over before her honey like voice pours through the line. 

“Hey. I heard from a little birdie that you wanted to come down here.”

“Yes, tell him it’s okay for me to go down there. I’ll call—”

“Sunshine, you and I both know that he’s right.” She cuts you off. Her voice is soft, much more vulnerable than normal, tone wavering slightly. “You’re pushing nine months pregnant, sister.”

“Athena.”

“This isn’t a negotiation. It’s a command. You understand me, baby?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m going to hand you back to Buck, okay? We will keep you updated, but everything is going to be okay. You rest for your sake and that baby’s, got it?”

“I will.”

You make out a relieved thank you from Buck. You’d been doing so good at holding back your tears. This pregnancy you had been a hormonal mess, and everything made you cry. Hearing the seriousness in Athena’s voice, where she wasn’t trying to protect you from the high stakes of the situation, made it sink in. 

“I know this is scary. But I promise, we’ll get through this. But please, try to get some rest. How are you feeling, Mama?”

Your heart warms at that. You grab the arm of the couch, pushing yourself up. Then you waddle over to the kitchen, each sway of your hips sending pain down your nerve.

“She’s been pretty calm today. As you can guess, she sensed her daddy talking because she’s slowly moving around now.”

“That’s my girl.” He laughs, but you can tell it’s forced. “Make some tea and put that magnesium cream on your back. Hell, if you can’t reach it, wake Evie up. You know she’ll love rubbing it on your skin.”

“Our little helper.” You breathe out, reaching for a mug. You stifle a cry, swallowing down the pain as it shoots down to your pelvis. “I’m going to let you go. I’ll be okay. Making my tea right now.”

“Listen, I love you— and the girls. Give Jee and Evie a kiss for me.”

“We love you too, Buck.” You hold your belly as tears flow freely down your cheeks. If he doesn’t come home, you don’t know how you’ll hold your family together. “Please come home to us.”

“I promise.”

And as you bid your goodbyes, you hold that to him. You don’t think you’d ever forgive the universe if someone, something, took him from you. You still had a lifetime to go— and you needed him for it.

After the call ends, silence crushes you. You somehow manage to get the cream on your lower back and hip before settling into bed, sipping on tea.

Small breaths serve as white noise. You watch the two girls sleeping peacefully, chests rising and falling steadily. You try to relax, not to think about Buck and the 118. But no matter how hard you try to follow their breathing, your heart pounds in your ears, plagued with heartburn and nausea. 

They had a busy day today at the Preschool Easter bash. It was three hours filled with giggles and bunny festivities, carefree and the happy children running around. Now both of the girls sleep peacefully, unaware that their fathers are in danger— and you plan to keep it that way. 

Evie’s curls, which she inherited from her dad, cover her forehead. Jee-Yun is stretched out, her arm splayed across her cousin. 

When you lean over to peck their foreheads, your muscles spasm. A cry ripples through the air as you clutch the nearest pillow, your fingers turning white as they dig in.

“Fuck.” 

“Daddy?” 

You glance down, pushing through the pain to brush your hand over your daughter’s forehead. 

“Not yet. Go back to sleep baby.”

She nuzzles back into the pillow, tugging the blanket up to her chest.

This was the worst possible timing— but the pain wasn’t waiting. You needed to get to the hospital. Now. 

Carefully, you reach for the phone. Your skin feels tight, sweat coating your chest. You’re sobbing as you dial 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I’m thirty-six weeks pregnant, and I’m in a lot of pain— my back, my pelvis—” You cry out, as a contraction squeezes your spine, lightning-like pain shooting to your hips.  “Please, please get me Maddie Buckley-Han. She’s my sister!”

“Can you tell me your address?”

“Ugh” You whimper, closing your eyes. “Get me Maddie, please.“

“She’s currently on the line with the first responders at the lab explosion.”

“Let her know, now!” You grit out. You don’t have time to wait. You’re in too much pain, getting short and irritated. “My husband, Evan Buckley is at the scene, and I swear to god, If you don’t get me my sister in law right now—”

“I’m getting her.”

You groan out a thank you. You feel the bed shifting, one of the girls stirring. You barely register your name being said by Maddie. 

“It hurts Maddie.”

“Okay, tell me what’s wrong.”

“My back’s spasming. It hurts so bad, fuck! My nerve, my pelvis.”

“I’m sending an ambulance to you right now. I’ll call a sitter to pick them up at the hospital. Do you want me to call May?”

“Yes!” You grunt out, throwing your body to the side as another spasm starts. You wrap your body around the pillow in an effort to take pressure off your spine. “Maddie, what if the baby comes? It’s too early.”

“Hey, even if she comes now, she’ll be okay. She’s a fighter, just like her parents. The hospital will do everything they can to take care of you and the baby, okay?”

“Don’t tell him, Maddie. Not yet. He can’t worry about this.”

“Sunshine, he deserves to know.”

“I know, but— fuck!” You groan. This time when your pelvis spasms, you feel a small amount of fluid being released. “Maddie, I— my water just broke.”

A beat of silence, then frantic typing. She’s switched over to dispatch.

“They’re almost there, hang in there for me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

You press your palm to the underside of your belly, trying to settle her. Trying to keep her in. 

You glance at the girls— still asleep, still safe. Still blissfully unaware. Still innocent.

“This is my fault. I know it’s not, but I can’t— I should have listened to my body!”

“Hey, this isn’t your fault. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

You think of everything you have to fight for— Maddie, Buck, Evelyn, the baby. You have to believe it’ll be okay.

“The door’s locked.” You close your eyes, rolling onto your back, desperate to ease the pain ripping through you.

“It’s okay. They’ll get to you.”

“If anything happens to me…” You choke up, slowly coming to terms that something could go wrong. “Her name is Brynlee Madison.” 

“Don’t you dare.” Maddie’s voice breaks, the sound of sirens adding to the panic. “You are going to be fine! No one is dying today, do you hear me? If you give up— I swear, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Maddie—” You scream, your whole body tensing. The pain is excruciating, causing your vision to be clouded with black spots. 

“I said no!” Her voice is harsh, firm in her decision. Then it softens. “Hold on, please.”

The door crashes open before you even hear it.

“LAFD.”

“In here!” You whimper. Lena Bosko rushes in with a stretcher, followed by two men. Relief washes over you. Once Maddie hears help is there, she leaves the line.

“Hey Buckley.” She crouches down beside you. You wrap your fingers around her hand, squeezing tightly. She smiles, showing no signs of discomfort or shying away. You throw your head back, knees shaking as you tense up. “Hang in there, sweetheart.”

One man moves to the other side of the bed to monitor the girls, while the other hovers above Lena, preparing supplies.

“Are you nauseous?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’m going to start a line to stabilize you and ease some of those back spasms with some magnesium and something for that nausea. Okay?”

You give a grunt of approval. Your head lulls to the side, eyes finding Lena’s. 

“Must be the Buckley name. Can’t stay out of trouble.”

For a moment, a quick beat, the pain is forgotten as you laugh along with her. 

“Seriously, what is it with your family and dramatic entrances?”

“Keeps it interesting.”

Then, your arm is straightened out, but her grasp doesn’t waiver. She keeps whispering encouraging praises as the cold alcohol wipe is swiped against your hot skin. When the needle pierces your vein, you whimper.

“I know. You’re doing such a great job, Buckley.” You open your eyes, forcing yourself to not look at your arm. The man tapes the line in place. “There, the hardest part is over.” 

“When it kicks in, you may feel a bout of nausea or a flash of heat, but hopefully that medicine keeps it to a minimum.”

Surprisingly, as the girls wake up, they don't panic. They know that these people, dressed like their dads, are here to help, to be safe. 

The entire way to the hospital, Lena never lets go of your hand, making small talk with you, talking you through each painful contraction. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s my job.” She teases, pushing a stray hair away from your cheek. “Besides, we take care of our brothers and sisters— even their spouses. You’re one of us, too.”

“Can you—” Your body violently jolts, your wail echoing inside the ambulance. The paramedic barks at the driver to push the limit. “Buck, he’s-”

You swallow hard, willing back tears.

“I've got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let me know if there should be a part two!

[5cherryblossom5]

smartass, kyle . b ୨୧ [3]

pairing:: kyle broflovski x fem!reader

synopsis:: kyle broflovski has been a pain in the ass since day 1. you hate him, probably more than he hates you, but you're gonna have to swallow your pride if you want him to tutor you for the worst subject known to man: calculus.

started 8/9/23 ↫

ongoing ↫

warnings:: excessive cussing, death of a parent, underage substance use, [will add tags w/ updates]

part 1 | part 2

"CHEMISTRY, A+ AVERAGE, PHYSICS, A+ Average, English, A+ Average...wow, you're one tough cookie, aren't ya?"

Sitting in Mr. Mackey's office was not how you wanted to start your morning. Honestly, you preferred to never be in his office at all.

The thing that sucks though is he's the school's guidance counselor, meaning he's the one you have to kiss ass to so he tells you how on track you are, grade-wise.

"Haha, yeah!" You manage, awkwardly shifting in your seat. The small office was crammed with random shit, including two small and extremely uncomfortable plastic chairs for students to sit on.

'Jesus, they can't even afford cushioned seats? These feel like they stole em' from the kindergarteners.'

Mr. Mackey continues listing off items from your transcript, each grade read aloud filling you with pride. It's when his eyes drop to the bottom of the page that his tone suddenly changes.

"Ah, here's something." His eyes flicker toward you and you desperately want him to spill out whatever 'something' is.

"Now, no need to panic, mmkay? I know you've got your heart set on this valedictorian thing but, uh.."

"But what?!" Oh god oh god, what did you fuck up now? You'd been working your ass off your entire high school career and senior year was not the time for slip-ups.

"Well, there was a class you took sophomore year, mmkay?" Mr. Mackey spins the paper around, your proof of failure right there for your eyes to see.

"Calculus."

Fuck.

Fuck.

You'd completely forgotten about that.

It was either you took it sophomore year and ace it...or you re-took it in senior year. With everything else that had happened last year, it completely slipped your mind.

That wasn't the only issue though.

"I fucking suck at calculus."

Mr. Mackey frowns, tsk-tsking at your choice of words. "Now now, Y/N, no need to get all riled up, mmkay? You can re-take the class this year and I can even set you up with a good tutor if ya' need it!"

Your guidance counselor looks at you expectantly and while you hate to admit it, a tutor would be pretty helpful. No point in taking the class again if you just ended up getting another F.

And F wasn't an option.

"Alright," you sigh, taking your transcript from his hands. "Who do you got?"

"Well," He starts off, tone suddenly nervous. It made you suspicious as hell.

"You might not agree with my suggestion, but he is the student with the highest calculus grade in the past 4 years." The room seems to fade into obscurity as you hyperfocus on the words coming out of Mr. Mackey's mouth, praying to god himself he wasn't about to say what you think he's gonna say.

'Please.'

'Please let the universe love me for once.'

...

..

.

"Ky-"

"No."

──

"-and then he said BROFLOVSKI would be the perfect choice! The nerve of that ass!"

The cafeteria was probably the perfect place to unload all your woes of the day, the loud and obnoxious laughter and softer buzzing of conversation creating a great cover for gossip. Wendy, on the other hand, didn't seem to agree with that sentiment.

"Call me crazy, but I'm not seeing the problem here."

"The PROBLEM," you cry, angrily shoving your hand into Wendy's bag of cheezy o's, "is that there is NO way in fucking hell I'm asking Kyle to tutor me."

Your best friend simply stares at you, blank-faced as you stuff your face with chips.

"That's suicide for my pride!"

"Ah, your pride." She snatches the chips back from your hands, carefully folding the bag before sliding it into a side pocket of her lunch bag. "How could I possibly forget."

You can't help but feel a little hurt by that, her tone of voice obviously implying something else entirely.

"What are you...what are you talking about?"

"Isn't that always what it's about, Y/N?" She scoffs, suddenly sliding all of her belongings into her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. You look at her with confusion in your eyes.

"H-Huh?"

"You and Kyle. Kyle and you. You guys do nothing but fight and argue, and it's all because you two can't stand the thought of losing to each other."

Her lips turn downwards, eyebrows furrowed in a way you've never really seen from her before.

'Is...is she angry with me?'

"Everyone is always wondering what the hell is up your ass because you seem to not have a life that isn't concerned with academics!"

Your body stiffens, her words striking you at your weak point.

Did people really think that?

It was obvious you didn't have any friends besides Wendy, her being the only person you felt you could really connect with but you tried your best to ignore the stares in the hallways.

The whispers when you walked by.

The dirty looks whenever you scored highest in class.

You'd told yourself everyone was jealous of you, that their "prude" or "smart ass" jabs were coming from a place of envy.

But now...you weren't so sure.

Wendy notices your expression and she must see something in it because her face softens immediately.

"Y/N..." She gently rests an arm on your shoulder. "You know I love you. I only want what's best for you."

"And this?" She motions between you and Kyle, who's currently sitting 2 tables down with his usual friend group.

A friend group Wendy seemed to be a part of, but you did not.

"This isn't healthy. Competition is great and all, but..."

Wendy sighs, opting to adjust her bag in an effort to ease the awkwardness.

"I don't know, sometimes you guys seem like you wanna kill each other. I never understood it. You guys would be great together, I just know it."

"Together!?" You balk, face burning a deep red as you almost hop out of your seat.

Wendy chuckles, dismissing your outburst with a wave of her manicured hand. "You know what I mean."

"But, if this is really something you don't want..." Her gaze falls to somewhere behind you, drawing your attention as well.

The goth kid's table.

"I hear some of them are pretty good with math. Maybe try it out?"

Before you can refute anything, Wendy makes her way over to Stan's table, face lighting up the second her boyfriend and his friends (minus Cartman) greet her with open arms.

You quickly look away before they can notice your staring. You didn't want them to think you were a weirdo or anything. You knew Wendy got shit from the boys already for hanging out with you. 

God, why did everything have to be so frustrating? It was like the universe had a personal vendetta against you. Everything you did was criticized and shit-talked, even when you were just trying to get through high school with the best possible track record a student could have! 

Why couldn't Wendy see that!? Why couldn't anyone see that!?

'Maybe because you know that isn't the reason.'

"Shut up."  You chide, mentally swatting the thought away. Now, in the middle of the damn cafeteria, was not the place for an existential crisis. 

Now you were royally fucked. Did you really want to ruin your reputation more by being seen with the goth kids? Not that you had anything against them yourself, seeing as you actually found them pretty cool...

But your opinion didn't matter. This was high school, where everyone and everything different gets clowned on.

"UGHHH. GOD, KILL ME." You groan out, curling in on yourself and letting your head fall to the cold lunch table, unaware of the odd looks that got you. 

Kyle.

Were you really going to ask Kyle. Kyle. To tutor you?

You could already picture his bitchy grin in your head.

"Y/N. Asking me? To tutor them? The sky must've fuckin fallen. What happened smartass, I thought you were Ms. valedictorian?"

"How pathetic. You think I'd really waste my time on you?"

"Beg for it."

'OHHHKAYYYYY, BRAIN, THAT LAST PART WASN'T NEEDED!!!'

You can feel your face burning from both embarrassment and...whatever that last part was. 

Yeah. There was no way you were asking Kyle anything. Wendy would have to be mad a little while longer. 

୨୧

[kibbles-bits]

any voxval fics you’d recommend?

Ah, yes, voxval fics... The one ship that finally made me cave and read explicit stuff. I am now numb to everything.

Everything.

I'll only be posting completed fics. Warnings, almost all of these are explicit. A couple also have Angel, you know, suffering.

And please mind the tags.

First off is a couple of favs that I always go back for a reread:

Corrupted Love by DoveFactory (Words: 149,495)

In a moment of blind desperation to one-up Alastor, Vox puts himself in a compromising situation that leaves him worse for wear. His state triggers something in Valentino who decides to change the nature of their relationship.

The title and summary of this is so misleading I thought it was going to be a dark fic but nope. The Vees are a bunch of goobers and Valentino always wins. I would scream about this every time it updated. I love the characterizations and their banter it almost made me forget there's sex in like every chapter. Honestly I wish there was more tags referencing the character/story stuff.

Virtual Reality by passthevoxcord (Words: 7,634)

Vox gets tired of his cybernetic biology being a barrier to his sex life, so he starts a new project to fuck Valentino in VR. Val will try anything once, but he has something else in mind.

This one ends up being so sweet I want to die. passthevoxcord's other fic, Only a Shadow, drives me nuts but its a WIP and hasn't actually gotten to the voxval yet.

choke behind a smile by gloriousmonsters (Words: 19,881)

"I'm not scared by extreme, although I doubt I'll find it interesting. What is it?" Valentino's eyes narrow slyly over his smile. "If you aren't scared, why do you need a warning?" Vox has everything under control in his new business partnership with benefits. His emotions, his unfortunate desires, the little mind games they play. Even Valentino himself. When Val offers an invitation to a special show he's performing, Vox knows it's a dare, and knows he has to take it, show Val that he can't be scared or destabilized. He has no idea of how deep under his skin the show will get.

Everyone's so normal. I love this Valentino. There's another Valvel fic that has the same Valentino I also recommend called bad girls go backstage.

Great Expectations by MarenRose (Words: 11,280)

“It’s his goal. Those three simple words. If he could get to hear them once, could let the reality of their meaning and spoken existence occupy his mind for only a few indiscernible moments, then maybe, Vox could learn to see the appeal of this god forsaken holiday. He might even learn to ‘love’ it too.” Or: Vox hates Valentine’s Days. His prick of a ‘wife’ is just too damn hard to please.

This miiiight have been the fic that made me Lock In on voxval? I'm not sure. It's sweet. Alastor is hilarious.

biting keeps your words at bay by Subedarling (Words: 1,511)

“You can’t hit me,” Valentino says. He’s practically vibrating with rage. “You’re not allowed to—you can’t hit me!” Vox sneers, cruel and mocking and hopefully masking the way his heart is breaking apart inside his chest. “Baby, I can do whatever the hell I want.” A decade into their partnership, Vox and Valentino have their first and last physical fight.

This might be the only non-explicit fic in this list. I am all for Val being the worst just because he's Like That. But I will not say no to an implied tragic backstory. I read this one a lot and want to die. Can I draw this. I want to draw this. Oh my god I have free time I can totally draw this...

And my other recs:

Just For The Record by PeppermintWalrus (Words: 13,795)

Vox is thrilled about his new film enterprise with his business partner, ready to build a lucrative empire for the denizens of hell to experience true cinema, in the only genre their depraved minds desire. There’s just one problem that he finds out too late; Valentino has never filmed porn before. Vox decides that some... hands-on teaching, is necessary to save their production.

Yeah you read that right.

a putrid feeling that i've addressed by spoondrifts (Words: 5,162)

They weren’t a couple because Valentino was pathologically noncommittal and Vox simply knew better. He tried the whole romance thing with a certain radio demon a few decades back, and he’d learned his damn lesson. Hell just wasn’t the place for that sort of cutesy bullshit. Also, he was pretty sure that Valentino was straight up incapable of love, which was both par for the course for Vox’s friendships and amazingly convenient—things couldn’t get complicated if there was nothing to complicate in the first place. Or: Full Moon, Vox/Val edition.

Haha I love pain. I lied, this is the second non-explicit fic.

Little Miss Hellion by DoveFactory (Words: 10,657)

Hell’s worst married couple spends a day of family bonding at a beauty pageant doing whatever it takes to make sure their daughter takes home the crown, because failure is never an option for the Vees. Pilot AU where Vox and Valentino are married and Velvette is their adopted daughter.

It's more Vees than voxval but they're married so.

The Art of Pimping by MarenRose (Words: 9,161)

Desperate to close a deal with one of the most lucrative investors in Pride, Vox does the unthinkable and pimps out Valentino for a one-time date. What could go wrong?

Val's attitude in this one is funny and Vox. Yeah. Vox made a mistake.

You Found Me by passthevoxcord (Words: 4,338)

Long before Velvette came along, it was just them. Vox and Valentino. Valentino and Vox.

Sobbing.

Something Less Than Dishonest by daphnerunning, Galiko (Words: 33,931)

He isn’t expecting the way Valentino walks, for some reason. Maybe it’s the extra limbs. Maybe it’s the wings. Maybe it’s the heels. Vox had skipped briefly through a few of the slut’s movies, for research, and isn’t expecting the way Valentino moves in person to feel so… Different. “…You must be my four o’clock,” he says, standing and offering a hand. Oh, shit, he’s huge. Valentino towers over him, easily would without the stripper heels. Vox is not afraid of heights.

Vox is so offensive in this it loops back around to hilarious.

Red Skies and Valentino by alternatedoom (Words: 86,050)

"Vox and I are special friends, doll. Go give him a kiss," Val says to the boy.

Angel does not have a good time. But the Voxval is nice.

before you go by xoTsundoku (Words: 4,426)

Before Alastor came into their lives, Vox and Valentino were happy. Maybe they still can be.

A Farewell to Ghosts by Accidental_Ducky (Words: 37,149)

"What do you think that is," Vox demands, pointing at the new guy. Valentino turns, eyes raking greedily over the man's body. He's gorgeous, skinny in a heroin chic way with big blue eyes and blond hair that falls just so across his eyes. "Hot." "Don't fucking call the ghost hot!"

The only human AU I've liked so far. Love the character interactions. Vox and Val are hilarious.

God I hope I didn't miss any. There's definitely some good WIP ones out there.

[pedgito]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Two: Chivalry, Secrets & Hot Tubs (Week One)

[strangers to friends to lovers, age gap (56/mid 20s), forced proximity, no outbreak]

(Series) Content Warning: a very, very lonely joel miller. copious amounts of lusting, tension, joel is an excellent cook (food, alcohol, ect), hot tubs, impromptu snowball fights, awkward situations, deep talks and tragic backstories (specified within chapter warnings, deeply depraved smut/sexcapades and the inappropriate use of a dining table (also specified within chapter warnings), nicknames of endearment (no use of y/n)

quick note: i love all the reblogs/feedback and that you're all enjoying this as much as i am <3 and a huge thank you to @swiftispunk for being the best and looking over the first chapter for me, i am completely scatter-brained and forgot to mention this when i posted last monday, so tysm han and pls go check her out if you haven't! & follow my fic update blog (@pedgitos) and turn on post notifications so you don't miss any updates/posted fics!

Chapter Summary: Settling in is easier than you expect, but it does come with a fair share of challenges. A week filled with getting to know one another and some moments shared, your week doesn't end on the best note, leaving you with a choice.

Chapter Warnings: (8k) no outbreak, grumpy!Joel, domestic shenanigans, Joel being naturally assertive, cooking dinner together, reading is good at encouraging Joel, one hot tub & two stubborn individuals, also...one bed trope incoming

You wake up refreshed, like you’ve been born with a new reverence for life—alright, it might be a bit of an overstatement but it’s a wonder what a decent night of sleep could do and you’re feeling that this idea, playing house with a stranger—though it wasn’t much like that anymore—wasn’t the worst choice. And it reminds you of Joel, having left him in the chair last night, not wanting to burden him but you can only imagine the ache in his bones, his back, the discomfort of sleeping in a chair all night. 

You lay for a moment, bleary eyes adjusting to the early morning light. The morning sunshine wasn’t strong here, blanketed out by a stark white snow that covered the ground, it muted out most colors and left a cool, but bright blue that shined through the window above your bed. 

It was peaceful. No cars, no buzz of strong electricity outside your window, people and their idle conversation a few floors down from your apartment window. Not even a bird, really. But, there’s a distinct clearing of a throat from the living room that has you stirring in bed, rising lazily as you move with the same enthusiasm. 

It was a fresh week. The first official week of your vacation and you were going to start it off on a good note, clambering out of the bed and slipping on a pair of fluffy slippers to keep your toes from freezing off, not bothering to glance in a mirror on the way out—not that you needed to, it didn’t matter. It was early, you were still trying to shed the sleep from your body and you could care less. Plus, it wasn’t like an old t-shirt and sleep shorts was some foreign concept. 

When you peek around the corner, arms crossed tightly over your chest, you can spot Joel’s head tilting to one side, hand kneading at the taut muscle in the center of his back where his neck starts to begin and then you’re stuck watching as he stretches his arms out wide, working out all of those muscles. Every single one. And you’ve been silent for far too long.

Yeah.

Clearing your throat softly, you approach from behind and keep your distance, announcing your presence like you hadn’t been lingering for a minute or two already. 

“Morning,” You greet politely, resting your weight against the edge of the island, taking in full view of a freshly awoken Joel, eyes still puffy from sleep.

He looks very…gentle. Surprisingly, so. It softens his rigid demeanor significantly and you have to silently talk yourself out of glaring at him for too long, “I didn’t want to wake you—I’m so sorry.”

Jeez—you two are getting good at that. Apologizing, afraid to step on each other’s toes. 

“Not your fault,” Joel massages his bicep with the heavy pressure of his thumb, looking slightly pained as he rolls his shoulders, “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“Yeah, but I forced you to stay up, so—”

“You didn’t,” Joel quickly shuts you down, “I’m a grown man,” there’s a laugh hidden somewhere in there, but Joel continues, “don’t blame yourself for my own irresponsibility.”

It’s too early for this. You force on a fake smile, void of any real emotion at this hour, running on fumes and the smell of coffee. Speaking of—you sniff, eyes searching for the smell like a dog would track a scent, and Joel is already pointing in the direction you should be looking for when your eyes land on him.

“I already finished it off on my own,” Joel admits, pointedly taking another long sip before resting the mug back on the counter, “I can get another pot goin’ if you need it.”

There’s an inclination to let him, seeing him assert himself so easily and offer, but you shake your head, “I think I can handle a coffee maker,” You assure him, meandering around the kitchen in search of the coffee grounds, ignoring Joel’s tracking of your movements, waiting for a moment to interject and point you in the right direction. You spot them a moment before the urge comes with a soft aha!

“I needed to make a drive into town,” Joel tells you after you’ve gone through the steps of starting your own batch of coffee, “pick up some more food, figured you might wanna tag along.”

He’s not asking, only assuming. But to be fair, his assumption is right. 

“Sure,” You reply cooly, pouring yourself a hefty cup of coffee to sip on, letting your body take hold of the caffeine, “...how far away is the closest town?”

“Hour and a half.” Joel answers and you almost have the nerve to go wide-eyed on him, but then you remember just how deep into the woods you both were and that it was necessary.

Truthfully, there was a more concerning matter at hand.

“How’s your music taste?” 

Joel has the gall to look offended by the question.

“I’m leavin’ in thirty,” Joel ignores you, “don’t think I won’t hesitate to leave you here.”

Okay, noted: Joel wasn’t much the morning person you assumed he was.

-

Joel immediately realizes how little disregard you have for touching things that aren’t yours when you reach for the makeshift box of cassettes tapes placed in the backseat of his truck—the thing was old, riding on it’s last leg, but it was something Joel would cherish until it was unsalvageable, torn seats, dents, and all.

“Ain’t gonna find anything you like in there,” Joel assures you, “None of that pop stuff they’re always playin’ on the radio these days.”

The tables turn on him suddenly, seeing your face contort into a similar emotion that he gave you earlier. Bewilderment, shock, annoyance. You scoff at the comment.

“Says you,” You retort back, sifting through the different cassettes until you find Joel trading glances between you and the road in front of him, almost worried you might chuck his collection out of the passenger side window, “Joel, eyes on the road.”

Joel enjoys a lot of country, which isn’t a total disbelief. But, it wasn’t something you shared the sentiment on, flicking away a handful of country artists you’ve never listened to and reaching some of the good stuff—older rock music, some classic 80s, and late 90s.

You pluck one out carefully, prying open the cassette case with gentle hands before sliding the tape in, allowing the low hum of the music to fill the car. There’s a brief moment of respite before Joel smirks to himself, thumb tapping against the steering wheel.

“What were you saying?” You look at him pointedly, shifting slightly in your seat.

Joel looks away briefly, biting back a chuckle, “Fine—I’ll give you some credit. Foo Fighters aren’t terrible, but you skipped right over Bruce Springsteen, so…”

You scoff in disbelief, “You don’t get to criticize me with that atrocious collection of country music,” You stare down at the box in thought, eyes brimming with a mischievous that Joel knows of immediately, he’s seen it before. Not with you, but he knows, “you know, maybe I should just do you a favor and—”

You can barely get a hand on the window roller before Joel’s hand is gripped tight over the box, trapping your other hand in his grip as he warns, “I’m not above leavin’ you stranded in the cold.”

Your grin is nothing but evil and Joel finds that there’s something about you that infuriates him in a way that is hard to describe, not in anger or rage, but a level that he thinks he could match. A game of back and forth that he could play into—but you’re quickly relenting regardless of the threat and placing the box on the floorboard.

“Already tried that,” You retort, “didn’t work too well for you, did it?”

Fair is fair. Joel doesn’t poke the beast.

Instead, he takes the chance to ask a question.

“So, what exactly was your plan?” Joel asks curiously. “You comin’ out here with no car and all?”

You shrug nonchalantly, “Didn’t really have one, but I would have figured it out.”

Joel shakes his head dismissively, subtly resembling a face of disapproval.

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me, okay?” You don’t wait for a response, “You can have whatever assumptions you want about me, but don’t try and act like you know anything about me.”

It was another reminder. Joel didn’t know you, but you didn’t know him either. You reign your frustration in slightly, quick to defend yourself but aware that not everyone handles confrontation in the same way—if Joel was quick to anger, you didn’t want to stoke the fire. 

“I’m not,” Joel argues, his voice calmer than you expect, thinking back to the saddled rage his voice held the night you arrived, the threat that lingered with every word, “I’m not, alright?”

“Then stop that.” You comment, waving your hand in a vague motion toward his face, “Stop looking at me like—”

“Like what?” Joel interjects, eyes more pensive as he looks over at you.

“Like—like I need a fucking lecture on life or my choices,” You tell him, a hint of pleading in your voice, “I’m not some kid who doesn’t understand how life works.”

“You’re not a kid—” 

“Good, great that we established that,” You lean back in the seat more comfortably, arms crossed over your chest as you keep your eyes on the snow covered road, “now shut up so I can enjoy the music.”

Thankfully, Joel does just that.

-

Conversation falls flat until you arrive at the store in town a while later, Joel fetching a cart and pushing it your way before he stops you suddenly, hand over your own again—a touch that normally you would flinch away from, but he’s already done it once before and the thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

“I’ll catch up,” Joel tells you, “I forgot somethin’ in the car.”

You glance back briefly, knowing that the walk isn’t that far. 

“Oh, I can wait. It’s fine.”

Joel doesn’t say so much, but the look in his eyes goes a long way. A silent plea for you to go with it and don’t ask questions—again, you didn’t have any right to. You nod quickly and wander off toward the store as Joel trails away.

It’s then when your phone starts to vibrate away in your pocket, the sudden availability of service sending a barrage of notifications your way—you’re terrified to take a glimpse, but you do anyway. It should be no surprise to bear witness to the many, many texts from your mother wondering where you’d run off to, but there’s a tinge of guilt settling in your stomach.

You send her a quick, dismissive text to explain that you were fine and enjoying your time, but no elaboration on the things she wanted to know, because really, there was nothing to tell. And if you did decide to expel the details of your trip, mentioning that there was no boyfriend and it was just a stranger you met in the middle of the woods, well…that wouldn’t go over smoothly.

You also find a quick, heated moment of frustration to send an unpleasant text to the owners of the cabin, still polite enough that it wouldn’t warrant your ability to work things out—and you decide that calling would reach them faster, that somehow they’d magically find a way to appear and fix things, but there’s no answer. Only a voicemail that gave vague details about being away on their own vacation.

Just your luck.

Great. You sigh deeply, shoving the phone away into your pocket and returning to the land of obliviousness as you step inside the small market.

You fend for yourself for a while, throwing several random necessities in the cart as you go, enough sustenance to spread over four weeks and manage meals the entire trip, also a few more bottles of alcohol don’t hurt, looking for a few hard liquors that catch your eye and adding them to the growing supply of items. 

You’re lost in concentration of the ingredients on the back of a box dinner when Joel’s voice startles you back to the real world, eyes jumping up to look at him and he spots the panic immediately.

He nods slightly when you recognize him, “Sorry, keep forgettin’ how jumpy you are.”

“You’re just ridiculously fucking quiet,” You tell him, breathing out a long sigh as you toss the box into the cart, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Joel assures, doesn’t elaborate. Okay, cool. You weren’t going to pry, no matter how much your instincts told you to. He scans the cart casually, “Mind tradin’ off?”

You lend him the lead and follow, watching as he pointedly finds things, like he’s reading off a list in his head and moves around the store with a purpose. It’s only slightly annoying that you have to keep pace with him, but he’s suddenly speaking out to you as he’s glancing over something on the bottom shelf, “Are you allergic to anything?”

“No,” You responded, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “Why?”

“Grab some of that fresh rosemary,” Joel says, pointing out somewhere behind you and you whip around, eyes searching furiously and coming up empty, “—find it?”

You’re a little dumbfounded as you search the shelf of fresh herbs, Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching behind you as he reaches over your shoulder and plucks the exact thing he’s looking for with ease, “Hey, I had the right idea.” You defend, noticing how amused he looked at your befuddlement, “And you didn’t answer my question, either.”

“Well,” He tosses the small, plastic package in the cart, still tucked up at your side and you can feel his body heat, the solid wall of his chest against your shoulder, “don’t like the idea of accidentally killin’ you if I cook something you’re allergic to.”

“Well, what if I’m lying?” You challenge and Joel shoves you aside gently to grab the cart, hands on your shoulder as he shifts you away—and when had things gotten so…touchy?

Truthfully, Joel finds it easier than telling you, noting how quickly you quiet down when he asserts himself and does rather than asks. He knows if it made you uncomfortable you wouldn’t have had a problem speaking up immediately. 

“Look at me,” And there’s a deep timbre to his voice that has your chest sparking like a fire, eyes connecting with Joel’s for longer than you’ve ever allowed and it’s like he sees right through you, but he’s searching for something, “—you’re not lyin’.”

“But, if I was?”

Joel nearly leaves you in the dust, but turns to look at you with a subtle grin.

“Well, now I know you’re not.”

–

The ride back is easier, much easier—and Joel doesn’t fault you when you fall asleep halfway through, the heat of the car and the low hum of the music like a perfect mix as you curl in on yourself. Joel wakes you with a gentle hand on your shoulder when you finally make it back, allowing you a moment to shake the grogginess away with a word over his shoulder as he opens his door.

“Careful over that patch of ice on your side,” Joel instructs, “gettin’ colder so it’s slicker than it was a couple days ago.”

Careful. You roll your eyes carelessly, nudging the door open with your shoulder and hopping out, boots hitting the hard ground—your first mistake was underestimating the slickness and Joel’s warning, because the moment you take your first step it’s all downhill. Literally.

Luckily though, like a moment of divine faith as you pray that you don’t hit the ground, Joel is right at your back, arms slipping under your own as he plants his feet firmly and catches you. One arm crossing somewhere over your midsection and the other wrapping around your shoulder, a large palm holding you steady as he helps you back to your feet. You can feel him on the brink of making a comment, eyes looking down tenderly into your own—

“Don’t ask.” You warn him bitterly, face scrunched up like a kicked puppy, shrugging him off lazily. Joel doesn’t argue, making sure you’re steady before he allows you himself to fully let go.

Joel shakes his head subtly, a nuisance of his, and rounds the back of the truck to reach for the bagged groceries, “Fine, I’ll just say I told you so then. How’s that?”

Worse. 

-

Joel never asks for help, doesn’t even seem bothered when you stand there aimlessly, watching him stow away the groceries like he already had a game plan and you feel slightly useless, but it does give you a good opportunity to watch without any explicit reason or excuse. 

There’s an obvious purpose to Joel’s movement, clear that he’s used to doing a lot of heavy lifting and keeping up, probably prefers organization over clutter, and has a certain inclination to do things himself, always. And you can’t help the way your gaze clings to his face, noticing something a little off—not good or bad, just slightly different. You hadn’t noticed it this morning, but with the extended amount of time your eyes lingered on him, you realize he’s cleaned up a bit, shaved his beard down to near stubble, a subtle difference…but you notice.

You’re not sure how long you’re stuck in this state, arms resting against the counter as you stood there, practically useless, thinking about what Joel looks like on a regular basis, when he isn’t cooped up in a cabin in the dead of winter. You want to see that side of him, crave it. It’s an insane thought that doesn’t make sense, eyes widening suddenly at the realization of the thought you’re having—

“You still with me?” Joel’s voice calls out in the haze, muffled slightly as you come back into focus, eyes landing on him. “Think I lost you there for a minute.”

“Oh—no. I mean, yeah. I’m still a little tired, I guess.” It’s a bold face lie, but Joel seems to believe you. “Why?”

“I was sayin’ I need to go chop up some wood for the fireplace,” He explains again, “then you went all wide eyed…”

“Oh, okay,” You nod jerkily, “...do you need help?”

Joel immediately declines. No surprise there.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Joel suggests, “I can manage just fine on my own.”

Sleep sounds great, but it doesn’t happen. 

You try—you do, but the splitting of wood, the strong crack of the axe catching the wood outside of your bedroom window, it isn’t exactly soothing to the ears. So, you find yourself wandering into the kitchen, peeking between the curtains with a wild curiosity that reminds you of when you were younger and trying to catch a peek of the cute boy next door, a bashfulness replaced with a deep, insatiable hunger that you didn’t know existed until this moment. 

Joel was attractive, you could easily admit that. But, seeing him now, it’s a done deal. There was a deep pit of despair in your mind and you were stuck at the bottom with no way out.

It’s almost abysmal how easy he makes it look, the axe he’d brandish as his weapon of choice against you swung over his shoulders, the unfortunate lack of skin stretching over taut muscles as he went through the motions, covered up by thick layers. But, you get the idea. 

There’s a slight pout forming on your face before you catch yourself.

He slices full power through the wood like it was eager to give way to him. You also find that his face tugs up in a scowl after every swing of the axe, a soft sigh of exerted energy as he tosses the logs to the side and starts up again. You could watch for hours. But, you settle for the few more minutes he spends collecting the wood before you’re scrambling back into your bedroom like you had been there the entire time.

Unfortunately, Joel isn’t oblivious. Still, he spares you the embarrassment. 

There was no reason for him to entertain whatever he thought might be going on. He couldn’t.

-

The next few days are uneventful, though that was to be expected. It allows you time to really settle in, usually curled up on the couch watching the fire crackle away until you thought your eyes might melt away, or reading a book that Joel always seemed to be trying to catch a peek at. There was an innocent curiosity there that you could appreciate.

You also learned that Joel only took his coffee one way, offering up your services to refill his cup while you refilled your own, sugar lingering over the rim and he’s quickly pushing away the small container of crystalized goodness. 

“Joel, come on–” You grimace but relent, placing the cylinder of sugar on the counter.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” Is all he offers, almost challenging you to take a sip.

You accept, obviously. But, it isn’t without consequence.

The moment the bitterness hits your tongue you’re scrambling away, forcing the mug into Joel’s waiting hands and spitting out whatever putrid liquid remained in your mouth in the sink.

It’s the first time Joel actually laughs, a full on chuckle that isn’t very receptive on your end.

Joel apologizes with dinner that night, a gesture that wasn’t expected or needed, still you’re thankful nonetheless. But, it offers you the realization of just how good a cook Joel can be.

Steaks grilled to a perfection that only came with repetitive practice and learned techniques, vegetables sautéed and seasoned to an enjoyable level, and a side of pasta that if Joel told you he made from scratch, you would’ve believed wholeheartedly if you hadn’t seen him dump the entire box of pre-made pasta into a pot of boiling water.

You’re halfway through dinner, chewing thoughtfully on a bite when you finally break the long, but comfortable silence that had blanketed over you both.

“So, Joel,” There’s a tone to his name that catches his attention, eyes flicking up to meet yours mid-bite, “what do you do for work?”

At this point, your nosey tendencies take hold.

There’s a scrunch to Joel’s nose before he speaks, almost as if he considered feeding you a lie alongside the beautiful meal he’d made. He settles for a simple answer.

“Uh, carpentry.” Joel tells you after a long pause, “I—build stuff for people, businesses sometimes.”

That explains some of his sturdiness, his practiced strength that came from, probably, years of hard constructive work and building. It also explains why he’s also working away at his hands, rubbing out the stiff joints and knuckles.

“I know what carpentry is, Joel.” You deadpan, but there’s a playfulness lingering in your voice. 

You assume he’s used to explaining himself often, which is why he forces it on you so easily.

“And you?” Joel asks suddenly, “College? You’re about that age, right?”

You snort softly at the tone he offers, slightly patronizing, but all in good fun.

“I’m taking a semester off,” You answer indifferently, remembering how disappointed your parents had been about the ordeal, but you were suffocating, “I’m not sure what I want to do anymore.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Joel assures, “can’t fault you either. Never went to college so I don’t have an opinion on it.”

There’s no judgment on your end, but for the sake of conversation, you bite.

“Any reason?” You ask curiously, wondering if you'd receive the similar sentiment that it’s all just bullshit.

“Didn’t have the money,” Joel answers simply, “didn’t have the grades, either. I thought I could start my own business out of carpentry, but…”

But…you lean into the table slightly, hanging on his words.

“You need a lot of money for that,” Joel finishes, “and, I mean, I’m livin’ comfortable now, but that idea took a lot of money that I didn’t and still don’t have.”

“So, you waste it on month long vacations in the middle of the woods,” You surmise humorously, nodding in approval, “can’t say I blame you, either.”

Joel shakes his head in amusement, chewing around a bite as he speaks, “Your turn.”

Right. An eye for eye. A question for a question. He's watching you expectantly, waiting for you to give a response to the same question you asked him. 

“Oh—I work out of this bookstore in downtown Austin.” You admit, finishing up the last few bites of your food, scraping the plate nearly clean. “It pays the bills and then some. I like it.”

There’s no compliment needed for the food, all the evidence of it gone. But, you feel the need to appreciate it anyways.

“Thanks for this, Joel.” You speak again, softer this time. 

“It’s no big deal, darlin’.” Joel assures you, holding up his hands in a feeble defense at the compliment, clearly something he doesn’t welcome easily. “Just food.”

“It’s been...months,” You tell him, “since I’ve had any type of home-cooked meal. Take the damn thank you, Joel.” 

He smirks at that, seeing the threatening fork raise before you utter those final words.

“You’re welcome.”

And he means it.

–

You force Joel to stay seated while you clean, knowing it was the least you could do after he spent so much time preparing and cooking dinner. There’s a solid few minutes of arguing before you have to physically shove Joel back into his chair despite his protests, hands pressed into his shoulders as you threateningly speak down to him.

 “If you move, I’m locking your ass out in the cold.”

Joel wouldn’t mind, but you’re silently hoping that he’ll just listen.

After all is done, tossing the damp washcloth to the side, you sigh with a newfound relaxation.

There’s only one thing that might top off this night, making it almost the first perfect day here.

“That’s it, I’m getting in the hot tub,” You decide, squeezing tenderly at the tense muscles of your neck, thankful that the owners had a small alcove connected to the cabin that allowed for you to enjoy the hot tub from the safety of the cold, “join me?”

You’re not sure what inclines you to ask so openly, but you don’t second guess it.

“While I appreciate the offer,” Joel starts, “I don’t think I brought the proper…attire.”

He’s still seated where you had him planted and it makes you laugh softly at the idea that he was taking it seriously, which—yeah, you did threaten the possibility of hypothermia on him. 

“Fine,” You relent, rounding the corner of the island closest to him as you quickly call out over your shoulder, “but, there’s still a couple of chairs in there if you need the company.”

He didn’t need just anyone’s either and didn’t need, so much as wanted.

He wanted your company.

A while later, you’re already waist deep in the hot tub, figure hugging white bikini tied back securely, arms resting against the side furthest from the door as you press your chin against your forearms and staring out the wall of vast windows that line the room, allowing a view of the snow storm outside, coming down in a flurry that seemed to only be gaining in strength—and Joel, well, he’s still sitting in that stupid chair.

He’s allowed himself too much time in his own head, thinking over the events of the past few days. His call to Sarah was pleasant, a much needed moment of peace when he hears his daughter’s bright, hyper voice on the other end. When he doesn’t have her for the holidays, it’s hard. The calls are sparse, the communication is clipped, and it feels like he’s being forced away from her, knowing that she’s growing older every day. That he is growing older.

He’s allowed a lot of his life to slip away, when he wasn’t working to pay bills and put food on the table he was usually drinking, bar-hopping with Tommy at his old age to hide the pain he felt everyday, mentally and physically. There’s a problem brewing under his skin, using the company of his brother and alcohol to cope with loss he feels so viscerally everyday. The life he could’ve had.

He feels pitiful, miserable—only took this damn trip to get out of town by the suggestion of Tommy, away from all distractions, hoping for a refresh to clear his head. But instead, he met you.

He had no clue what the fuck to do anymore.

Joel’s never processed emotions well, feelings or anything thereof. 

But, here he was, lusting after you. 

He knows it’s the excitement, the taboo idea around sharing something special with a stranger. Someone who knows nothing about you, someone who doesn’t have the leverage to judge. Someone who doesn’t have to know about all the wrongs he’s committed and bad choices he’s made. 

You’re not privy to the fucked up version of Joel that belongs in his hometown, cooped up in his childhood home that he inherited from his parents, filled with too many now painful memories that he’d made with Sarah when she was younger—when he still had her.

He can’t help the way his mind races every single second of the day, constantly worrying, always trying to busy himself with something, anything to keep that lingering cloud of anxiety away. But, when he thinks about you, even something so mundane as the way you squint to get a closer look at a paragraph of the book you’ve probably read a thousand times, his mind goes quiet. 

Because, frankly, he’s fascinated by the idea of you. That maybe, just maybe, you weren’t actually real. He’s halfway leaning toward the idea that he’s had a full mental break and this is all an illusion he’s cooked up in his head, but then he reminds himself that you are just as full a human as himself. There is a reason for this, even if there had to be some other force at play. 

Maybe you needed this as badly as he did.

A fresh start, no judgment.

And that’s why he decides to follow you, the moment he catches a glimpse of you as you turn the corner to take the steps down into the room that connected to the kitchen, a full glimpse of skin and body that he’s tried to keep his mind off of, despite how openly you stare at him.

There has to be something there. He can’t have imagined all of this.

You feel his presence when the creak of wood gives him away, one hand shoved into his front pocket and his other arm helping him stay upright as he leaned against the doorframe. The steam billows and settles like a cloud over the bubbling hot tub but does nothing to hide how see-through your bathing top is and the slick slope of your breasts, his eyes trailing down toward the small bow that was sewn to the midpoint of your top and know he’s staring at your chest, very openly—Joel’s immediately regretting his choice.

Your eyes follow his but you dare not speak, afraid to startle him.

Now who was the jumpy one?

“Change your mind?” You ask curiously, shimming the expanse of the hot tub as you grab onto the opposite ledge, resuming your previous position, closer to Joel now. If you reached out you could touch the edge of his flannel and soak the trim, maybe even pull him closer, but you resist the urge. “It feels amazing. I’m serious.”

It wasn’t a ploy to get him in, but it wouldn’t hurt. He doesn’t respond, eyes staring at the soft wave of the water as it hits your side, his posture rigid. 

Maybe you’d broken him.

“Joel,” You call out with a soft nudge to his thigh, as far as you could reach with your fingertips, cutting into his line of sight, offering a friendly smile, “just strip down to your underwear and get in.”

“I don’t think—”

Oh, for christ sake. 

“You wouldn’t have come over here if you weren’t at least thinking about enjoying the benefits of the hot tub,” You argue, “so stop being grumpy and strip. I won’t even look.”

It shouldn’t sound as gritty as it does, a playful venom in your tone as you sink back slightly.

It makes Joel feel like he’s back in high school, flirting with who would eventually be his ex-wife and mother of his daughter, but there’s an assertiveness that intrigues Joel, your willingness to put yourself out there without fear. Take a leap, a jump, and hope that someone will catch you. 

Joel caught you, he just needed someone to catch him.

You spot his fidgeting, the wheels and cogs in his mind turning and he just needs that shove.

Just enough.

You rise over the edge, palms pressed flat to bear your weight and squeeze your breasts together, belly button nearly level with the water as you’re close enough to see the fine details of his face, giving him a look that Joel couldn’t deny.

“Get. In.” You stress the words, making direct eye contact. “You can thank me later.”

Finally, he moves. 

You sink back slightly into the pool and wade the water until you hit a corner, watching briefly as Joel works away at the buttons on his flannel, quiet air filling with an unspoken tension. You try to busy yourself with the view outside, something that didn’t require you to look in the vicinity of Joel for a second, knowing that the moment felt more intimate than it needed to. But, it doesn’t stop that sparse glances over your shoulder to check on him, now barefoot and pulling his shirt over his shoulders, the fabric pulling and obscuring your view of his face and his view of you, staring so starkly at him in that moment.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. The freckles that speckle his shoulders, nearly invisible from this distance because of his tanned shoulders and the unevenness of the tan as it continues down his arm, varying in shades of intensity, undoubtedly from hours of working in the sun. There’s also a smaller patch of hair on his chest that with his short cropped beard, seems to be trimmed down too. His strong build doesn’t throw you off, though—solid muscle that flexed across his stomach as he yanked his shirt a little harder to get it over his head fully, not built in a way that rippled down his abdomen, but showed a sturdiness to his figure that had your body humming to a tune that reached down to your core, thighs squeezing together under the water. 

Joel passes the shirt off into a waiting arm chair, clothes slowly piling on the cushion alongside your towel and he pops the button on his jeans, still unaware of your…innocent observation. But, the moment the jeans stretch over his thighs you swallow a little too hard and you’re immediately averting your eyes when he looks up briefly. 

Like you’d been caught. 

Joel clears his throat like a warning, as if he hadn’t felt your eyes on him the entire time, and swings a leg over carefully, a view of the black briefs that molded to his skin perfectly and hugged his backside in a way that feels criminally illegal…and you’re staring again.

He hisses at the sudden change in temperate, but inch by inch he lowers and adjusts, eventually huffing out a low groan, eyes closed, when he finally settles on the seat inside of the tub.

Suddenly, this felt like a terrible idea.

“See?” You break the revered silence for him, “Worth it?”

“Almost forgot how you just bullied me in here.” He jokes—full on fuckin’ jokes before cracking an eye open to catch your reaction, a subtle look of disbelief on your face. “I’m kidding, darlin'.”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the seat under the water and you smile, a half-hearted roll of your eyes thrown his way before you relax too, for a moment.

“This is so weird,” You speak softly, after a while, and Joel looks slightly puzzled as he opens his eyes fully now, perking up slightly as he adjusts himself, chest rising over the water slightly, his arms hanging over the ledge with his fingers gripping the ceramic—and you’re gaze is drifting again, mostly to his hands, but you mask it as you look away briefly, down the hall or out the window. Literally anywhere but Joel, “it’s just—not how I expected things to go.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Joel replies with an underlying amusement.

As the quiet settles, slowly drifting closer to one side, where you originally were when Joel came searching for you—voluntarily, he lingered and waited, waited for the push you gave him—Joel joined alongside you, burrowing himself in the closet corner nook and enjoying the view in silence.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Joel comments, “everything alright?”

Everything was fine and you couldn’t make complete sense out of it. The ability to be so inherently comfortable with someone you’ve only known for a little under a week, the attraction you felt despite your own rational thinking telling you otherwise, the urge to connect openly and without fear of judgment. It terrifies you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask quietly, “Like…a real question, not those superficial ones that we’ve thrown at each other.”

Joel doesn’t like the sound of it, but there’s also the inclination that he could feed you a total lie and you wouldn’t have any idea otherwise.

He nods, fist resting against his cheek as he turns to look at you and suddenly the pressure is on, your heart racing in your chest at his sudden, full attention.

“Earlier…you said you forgot somethin’ in the car,” Joel’s fist clenches unknowingly under the water, an instinct to bury his reaction, “I know it isn’t my business, but I was just curious what is was.”

Joel, against every fiber in his being that tells him to deflect, gives you a straight answer. It’s almost startling how easily it comes out, like he’s lifting a weight off his chest that he’s carried for years.

“I had to make a call,” Joel admits, “to uh—my daughter, she’s back home with her mom.”

Your brow pulls together in confusion, “Wait, are you married?”

Joel somehow amidst the heaviness of admitting his truth still laughs, quick to defend himself from your next question.

“Oh, not at all. Never, actually.” Joel responds, “We…I never married her mom, it was obvious pretty quickly we weren’t going to work well together.”

The answer is simpler than you expect, different too. Part of you wondered if he was pleading his own case to the owners and was just as unsuccessful as you, but this is much more vulnerable.

And despite your ability to lie, and his own, neither of you can force it.

You don’t pry further, feeling like it may push things too far. Too personal.

“Okay, your turn.”

“Do I scare you?” Joel asks suddenly, almost like he’s been anticipating the moment too.

You’re almost sure the expression you return makes you look insane, feeling the implication that he might, that he thinks—it’s so far left field that it throws you off.

“No—no,” You quickly reject any lingering doubt he has, “I mean…the first night, maybe. But, now…no.”

“Oh.” It’s all Joel can muster, unsure of why he was expecting a different answer. That you would say yes and whatever shroud of thought he had about this moment you were sharing was only out of fear, that you were just trying to be polite. 

“Look, I get jumpy because you sneak up on me,” You answer, “and you have this…presence about you,” Okay, not the best wording, “not scary or anything, just…strong.” Big, like a wall. Like, if anyone were to ever approach you wrongly, Joel would attack without question. And maybe the fact that he would do that should scare you, but instead, it entices you.

Joel sits with the implication, burdened by his own mind. 

You can see him lost in thought, speaking with a comforting surety, “Thank you…for telling me.”

The truth. Thank you for telling me the truth.

The next stretch of time, what feels like an hour, is spent in a comforting silence. You think Joel is nearly falling asleep but then he moves, make a comment about how the snow won’t let up and eventually you’re forcing yourself out of the hot tub, reaching over the side to snatch your towel and sending all of Joel’s clothes descending to the floor in the process and as if you had a death wish on Joel, your ass pops up at an angle that is physically impossible to look away from.

Joel is a gentleman, he swears. He was raised to respect and care and always put women first, but there’s a split second where he can’t pull his eyes away, feels like he’s just caught a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have, but then you’re turning your head over your shoulder and you definitely catch him—you could ruin the moment and say something or you could ignore it.

Fortunately, you save Joel some embarrassment, covering it with a sly smile as you apologize for dropping his clothes and take the final step out and wrap the towel around your body.

“Shit,” You quickly realize that in the midst of your pushing Joel to join you that he didn’t have a towel, “stay here—I’ll go grab you a towel.”

Joel wasn’t eager to move anyways, admittedly. Sporting half a hard-on under the water, he wouldn’t subject himself to the scrutiny of your gaze or what implications it would make, thinking every horrible possible thought to will it away—luckily your timing is perfect. 

You quickly gather his dropped clothes and pile them in the chair as you toss the towel his way, ignoring any and all chances to glimpse at his wet body, back turned as you quickly excuse yourself away in fear of the idea that you might say something unforgettably stupid.

-

The walk to your separate bedroom is quick, swift, like a desperately needed escape. 

But, as fate would have it, the moment you open the door and wretch the towel away from your body there’s a loud pop! to your left and a spark on the outside that has you halfway on the floor and slamming into the wall out of both shock and an attempt to shield yourself from whatever unseen force was at play, yelping out loud in the process.

From an outside perspective, you can understand why Joel doesn’t hesitate to come running.

He runs straight into your back, bare chest pressed against your know bare shoulders and leaving you half-dressed in front of him, scared out of your wits and willing to grab onto whatever was nearby to keep you upright—fortunately, Joel’s arm is the perfect anchor as your hand wraps around his wrist and squeezes.

“What the hell?” Joel inquires, slightly out of breath as he searches your face for any signs of injury, “What happened?”

You both look at the culprit—the heated window unit that was no longer expelling heat, and while the cabin was still heated, it didn’t reach the bedrooms well enough that you weren’t shivering without some type of additional help. You sigh in frustration, eyes turning up towards the ceiling as you feel no shame, too frustrated to care as you lean into Joel’s chest.

“Shit.” It’s all Joel offers as a solution, not that you were expecting one. But, still, it would be nice.

“Yeah, shit.” You echo, pushing away from him suddenly to gather your damp towel and a change of clothes, padding your bare feet toward the living room, but Joel is grabbing your wrist before you get too far from him.

“Hey, woah,” He starts in a calmer tone, “you can take my room—I’ll drive into town tomorrow and see if I can get ahold of the owners, we’ll figure something out.”

“I already tried calling them,” You admit, “Earlier. Straight to voicemail and something tells me they won’t be answering their phones until after the holidays.”

Pulling away again, you continue your way toward the living room and gather a few pillows and blankets, tossing them on the larger couch beside the fireplace. Joel doesn’t seem to entertain the idea, following on your heels as he gathers each item you throw in that direction and you finally reach a point of full, unrestrained frustration. 

“Joel, cut the shit.”

“Take the room,” He offers as a counter, “I can sleep on the couch.”

With his back? Not a chance. But, he offers anyway.

“Fuck off,” You chuckle bitterly, “I’m not forcing you out of the bedroom.”

“Then it looks like we’re sharin’ the living room.”

You close your eyes, toss the blanket aside and breathe, clenching and unclenching your fists in an effort to not completely lose it on the man standing opposite of you.

Chivalry be damned, Joel wasn’t giving in.

Fine, two could play at that game.

“I’ll take the bed.” You quickly agree, but there’s a lingering ultimatum.

Joel waits, sees the thought brewing behind your pensive eyes.

“But, so will you.”

“Now—”

“No,” You interject, putting your figurative foot down, suddenly vividly reminded of your vulnerability as you stood there, still slightly damp and in a swimsuit that did nothing to cover your body—it was the reason Joel’s eyes were so pointedly stuck on your face, never lingering elsewhere, “either we both sleep in here on the couch or we share the bed.”

Joel’s hands shift to his hips, towel tight around his waist and you’re too annoyed to admire the way his muscles tense and flex with the movement, the underlying thickening desire settling beneath the surface.

You match his stance, daring him to challenge you.

A small part of you wants him too.

—

“Anyone ever told you you’re damn stubborn?” Joel asks, trailing behind you as you enter his bedroom, a clone of your own but with a small bathroom attached.

“All the time.” You answer truthfully. “I’m going to shower and sleep—no funny business.”

Meaning if Joel did sneak away into the living room to offer up the full amenities of his own room, he would feel your wrath tenfold.

Joel resigns to the idea and gathers his own pair of fresh clothes before disappearing into the bathroom down the hall, leaving you both to a moment of levity.

There’s no anticipation to the arrangement—but the idea is there, burrowing into the back of your mind. 

You’re sleeping with a stranger…someone you knew little to nothing about, but it was your choice. And you trusted your gut. 

Joel was safe, he was good. 

You relax under the spray of hot water, a different heat to the one you enjoyed just a while ago, the type that allowed your thoughts to roam, and you laugh softly at the sight of Joel’s shower supplies, knowing he was stuck with whatever you brought—it wasn’t something you thought about in the moment, but there’s a brief realization that he was sharing a moment similar to your own, scowling at the sight of your fruity scented body wash that you left on the shelf there. It wasn’t a huge deal, Joel wouldn’t fuss over it. 

But, it also lends your mind to roam more.

As if his bare chest wasn’t already at the forefront, and his eyes as they had stared at you so unabashed until the moment he was caught, all innocent looks with deeper intentions that invaded your mind like a plague.

You were so fucking frustrated—annoyed with him, the state of your life, this stupid vacation. With the suds gone and the water drowning out the silence you allow yourself one—just one moment of selfishness...

And as if the house was the biggest tattletale of them all, the floor creaks on the other side of the door.

“Joel?” You call out curiously, as if an intruder in the middle of nowhere was even likely.

There’s several seconds of silence before Joel finally answers.

“Yeah?”

“Your body wash sucks.” You goad lightly, hoping to ease the earlier frustration that had grown between you both, and while you can’t see him, you can hear his laughter on the other side of the door.

“Can’t say yours is any better.”

You smile to yourself, the way he responds with fondness that he tries to hide.

When you finish up and dress, peeking your head out before you move to open the door fully, Joel is already on his side, turned away. It was obvious that he didn’t want to be bothered. The small blanket of division rolled and wedged in the center of the bed like a barrier, a warning. 

Keep your distance and you both may manage to survive the rest of this vacation.

Thank you for reading this to the end! If you enjoyed please extend a like or reblog (with a comment if you'd like, i love reading them <3) to support writers, it helps a ton!

[yatsurinamikaze]

Swan and Shadow [Sakusa Kiyoomi x Miya!Reader]

Summary: Where the brooding Sakusa Kiyoomi unknowingly falls in love with the Miya sister. What happens next?

Chapter 6 [Masterlist]

Hours pass, and Sakusa waits in silence. The hospital air is cold, the fluorescent lights annoyingly bright, and the plastic chairs are as uncomfortable as he expected. Yet, he doesn’t move. The only thing breaking the silence is the faint buzz of a phone.

Sakusa’s eyes flicker to the screen just in time to see Bokuto’s message flash across it:

Bokuto: What’s this about you carrying some girl in the hallway?! The whole facility is buzzing with it!!

Then another.

Hinata: Yeah—YOU MISSED HALF OF PRACTICE TOO, SAKUSA-SAN!!!

Sakusa sighs through his nose, unimpressed. He flips the phone over and pockets it, ignoring their nonsense. 

The door creaks open.Sakusa immediately sits up as the doctor gestures for him to come inside. He steps into the room, expecting a quick update, maybe a standard ‘she’s fine, she can go home’ report. Instead—the doctor barely glances at him before speaking.

“Your girlfriend has a serious ankle strain. We call it Achilles tendinitis—it’s very common among ballet dancers.”

Sakusa stares.

“I—uh—she’s not—” he tries, but the doctor doesn’t stop.

“She’s going to need a cast for at least four weeks. After that, we’ll reassess her injuries. Complete rest until then, minimal walking.” Sakusa doesn’t even get a chance to correct him before the doctor nods curtly and walks out. 

There’s silence.

You let out a loud huff, crossing your arms. “Well, what does he know about my body?”

Sakusa turns his head toward you. He blinks. “He’s a doctor.”

“Yeah, and I’m me,” you argue, clearly unimpressed. “Doctors just love telling me what I can’t do.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Like walk?”

You roll your eyes. “Obviously.”

Sakusa just shakes his head and pulls a chair up next to your bed, sitting down with his usual unimpressed expression.

You smirk. “So, boyfriend, you didn’t leave yet?” You wiggle your eyebrows.

Sakusa exhales sharply—probably a sigh. But then his gaze flickers to the red-purple spot on your wrist, and he frowns. He reaches out, carefully taking your hand to inspect it. “Does this hurt?” he asks, pressing his thumb gently over the joint.

Before you can answer—

BAM!

The door slams open.

“OH, HELL NO.” Atsumu Miya’s voice rips through the room like a war cry.

Sakusa barely has time to process before two identical men storm in.

Atsumu, looking like a feral fox ready to brawl. Osamu, calmer but somehow even more terrifying, arms crossed and eyes sharp.

Sakusa? He physically malfunctions.

He lets go of your hand immediately and gets up from his seat, his gaze shifting between you and the two idiots now standing in the doorway.

Cold. Hard. Paralyzing realization hits him.

The beautiful dancer—the angel in white—the girl he just carried through a hallway and sat beside in a hospital room—

Is a Miya.

Atsumu screeches. “THE HELL ARE YA DOIN’ WITH OUR BABY SISTER?!” Osamu, quieter but no less dangerous, tilts his head. “Ya wanna explain why ya were holdin’ her hand?”

Sakusa just stares.His brain refuses to process.

You? A Miya?

How.

How did this happen?

How did he—the man who actively avoids trouble, chaos, and unnecessary emotions—end up in a hospital, taking care of the Miya brothers’ little sister?

How did he end up holding your hand on your bedside? Which, according to Miya Law, might as well be a marriage proposal.

Sakusa takes a slow, deep breath.

Then, looking between you and your overprotective brothers, he comes to one very important conclusion - he is screwed.

I anyone even reading these? Lol. The response has been fairly muted and Im considering putting this on hold. Maybe my writing isn't as good as it is sounding in my head. :(

[Masterlist]

[yueichihara]

Hi, hello. Well... I kind of got inspired when thinking about some stuff so... We read and we don't judge lmao

In which Zayne and MC are definitely dating. She catches a cold and... well... How amazing it is to have a boyfriend who is also a doctor.

I have no idea how to rate stuff on tumblr so bare with me, but feel free to tell me if I missed something or if something is not rated properly.

18+ that's for sure, female MC, oral to MC, ice kink? not sure about this one but that was kind of the idea.

English is not my first language and I didn't edit this, so there might be some repetitions of words, maybe? As I said before, please do contact me if there's something weird with this! Anyways, ENJOY!

His hand slides up my forearm, gently intertwining our hands and pinning my arm to the mattress. His mouth leaves gentle butterfly kisses from my cleavage up to my jawline. He lets out a deep sigh.

‘Are you sure?’

He caresses the side of my face with the back of his hand, his eyes watching me longingly. And I know the same look is reflected on my eyes. 

‘Yes.’ 

I assure him, reaching out to the back of his neck and guiding him down for a kiss.

An hour before

‘No, you really don’t need to worry about me… Yes, I took my meds and also took a shower. I’m a-ok, I’m gonna prepare something to eat and go to sleep.’ 

I had actually almost fainted in the shower and had to crawl out to get some fresh air to stop the dizziness. But Zayne doesn’t need to know that or else he’ll just get anxious. He has an important meeting with the heads at Akso hospital tomorrow, he needs to stay focused. 

‘Did you take your temperature?’

I try again to keep my voice steady and cheerful.

‘Yeah, a while ago but it should have gone down by now so don’t worry. Anyways,’ I fake a yawn into the speaker ��I’m hanging up now. I’ll keep you updated on my recovery. See you soon.’ 

I hang up before he tries to question me. I set my phone on Do Not Disturb and throw it on the couch before slowly getting up to go to the kitchen. I did need to eat something ASAP. I could feel my eyes dry out and my body burning up. I had taken the pills but the fever had gone down just a bit. I’m halfway to the kitchen, leaning on the table for support when the bell rings. I feel my stomach clench. 

‘He wouldn’t…’ I murmur before heading to the entrance. Another wave of dizziness strikes me as I try to get to the door, I sway and feel my legs give out. But before I hit the ground, a soft pair of hands catch me by the waist.

‘I guess it was worth it to get my handprint on your lock’

Zayne’s arms hold me firmly as I lean on him for support. He feels cold from the winds outside and I lean deeper into his embrace as he helps me up. 

‘Why are you here?’ I say as I grab his bicep to steady myself.

‘A simple ‘Thank you’ would be enough.’ He says as he takes me to the couch and eases me down. 

I look at him apologetically. 

‘I didn’t want to distract you, you have enough on your plate as it is these few days with all those wanderer attacks. The hospital has been flooding with patients and you have an important meeting tomorrow.’ I lift my hand to touch my forehead but it only feels hotter. 

Zayne takes it off and replaces it with his own hand, a chilly feeling soothing a building headache. 

‘I patiently waited until my shift was over to come see how you were doing, thinking about how you may be feeling and what you would need to feel better’ He says as he shakes the bags hanging from his arm. ‘Wouldn’t it be better if your primary care physician got to check up on you when you’re feeling like this?’ 

I know I would be blushing if it wasn’t for the fact that I was already burning up. I look down ashamed for lying to him and he moves his hand to my chin and lifts it so I could look him in the eyes.

‘Thank you, for thinking about me. But I’ll be able to focus better knowing you’re fully recovered and being your cheerful self, annoyingly sending me messages to meet at Meow’s Café to check out the new set of badges that came out.’

His thumb gently caresses my chin and I feel tears prickling in my eyes. 

‘Okay. I’m sorry… and thank you for stopping me from face planting on the floor.’

He chuckles and stands before heading to the kitchen. I bring my legs up to my chest and rest my head on my knees. I watch him move swiftly as he prepares dinner, completely at ease in the space. He’s come over so often he doesn’t need me to tell him where everything is. I’m suddenly pleased at myself for deciding to go to the market on my way home before getting down with a cold. I don’t know how I would face him if my fridge was still empty like it was yesterday morning.

I doze off at some point and he wakes me up before setting a bowl of soup in my hands. I eat slowly while I watch him clean up. When it’s obvious I can't find it in me to eat any more than half the bowl, he takes it from me and puts the rest of the soup in the fridge for later.

He then takes my temperature and helps me up from the couch. He holds me firmly as he accompanies me to my bed. He makes sure I’m tucked in before going to get me a bottle of water.

‘Since you took your meds just before I got here, it is best you put an alarm for the next intake.’ 

I stare at him as he  sets a bottle and a cup on my nightstand. 

‘What?’ He reaches out when I don’t answer him and touches my forehead. ‘Your fever has gone down but you’re still burning up.’ He moves his hand to the side of my face and the iciness there makes me snuggle into his palm. I let out a deep sigh and look up at him. His eyes darken and I know I’ll have to push just a little more to get him to stay. 

I’ve been thinking of him the whole day, it is probably the reason why I haven’t gotten better. I had just come back from a business trip a few days ago and I was longing to see him, but Wanderers went amok in a nearby district and our plans to meet up had to be pushed off only for me to get a cold on the day of our awaited date. 

‘I’ve missed you.’ I say to him. His gaze softens and he leans to give me a kiss on the side of my lips. ‘You shouldn’t do that, you’ll get my cold.’ 

‘You’re probably out of the contagious period by now, a kiss should be okay.’ 

‘Who’s lying, now?’ I call him out but he gestures for me to scoot further. He takes off his tie and lies beside me. I immediately snuggle into him. ‘You’re so cold, it feels amazing.’ 

He brushes my hair with his fingers and pulls me closer. The iciness only grows and I suddenly stop and stare up at him in disbelief. ‘Are you using your Evol!?’ 

He looks at me innocently. ‘Zayne!’ I jokingly hit him in the chest. He lets out a small laugh, his voice breathier.

‘One would think you’d have cold patches around for moments like these, but I couldn’t find any while you nod off. So I took matters into my own hands.’ He demonstrates by sneaking his hand on the small of my back. His freezing touch sending shivers up my spine from where it meets my skin. It feels so good that a whimper comes out before I can stop it. He smirks at my reaction and slowly moves his hand up my back, the cooling sensation soothing my fever. My stomach, however, growing hotter at his touch. A darker flame ignites inside me and I find myself on my back, his mouth on mine and his hands making circles at my sides. Everything he does is gentle, careful. It hurts to know how much he cares for me. How this man I’ve known for almost all my life, holds me in such a high position in his heart. Anything I do could hurt him and I want nothing more than to assure him how much I love him. How I want to stay by his side forever, to care for me as much as he cares for me, to grow old and beyond.

I try to convey this in every kiss, with every touch of my hands on his back and the back of his neck. 

He stops and stares at me, his eyes loving and sweet. 

‘Do you want this now?’ 

I cradle his face and caress his cheeks.

’With every hot breath.’ 

He doesn’t get to work immediately. Instead, he sits up and gently helps me out of my pyjama pants. I try to take off my hoodie but he stops me before I do so.

‘It’ll be bad for you if you take everything off’

I comply and watch him as he takes off his bet and unzips his pants. I reach out and start undoing the buttons of his shirt as he leans to take the glass from my nightstand. I hadn’t noticed before, but the glass isn’t empty, it’s halfway filled with ice cubes. He holds onto it as I finish with his shirt and then hands it to me. He moves down and takes off my underwear, his fingertips sliding over my skin with a cold touch. 

He reaches for a pillow and puts it below my back to give him better access. I feel myself clench in anticipation and he notices, too. He takes the glass from me, the heat from my hands already starting to melt the ice inside. I pull my knees up and he goes down.

The first kiss sends a shiver through me and I gasp. I instinctively try to thrust into his face but he holds me down pressing his hand on my belly. 

He kisses me slowly and I whimper with every touch. He slides his tongue through my folds with a gentle stroke before sliding it in me. I’m about to whine when I feel him gone, but I gasp again when something cold slides in. I don’t have time to wonder before he starts eating me up again. 

One of my hands travels below my hoodie to my breast and the other clenches on the sheets beside me. 

He puts another ice cube inside me and this time he pushes it with his tongue. I’m a mess in a matter of seconds. The coldness from the ice cubes keep me on edge and his ministrations bring me over it. I’m climaxing before long, moving against his face, my body twitching.

I struggle to get my breath down, Zayne’s thumb making circles around my clit. He stops when I’ve calmed down and I feel his hand on the back of my thigh, sliding up to the back of my knee as he sits up. He pulls my leg to my chest and I watch as he strokes himself with his other hand. I feel my mouth water and swallow before looking him in the eye. 

‘In the first drawer in my nightstand.’ 

He stops the strokes to reach out and smirks at me when he finds the condom. I would go to the ends of the world for that smile. 

As he slides it on, he positions himself properly over me again. He bends down to give me a sweet kiss, and I feel him poking at my entrance. His voice is even breathier when he says against my lips:

‘Would you like to know where else I can turn ice cold?’

[osxmui]

‘ life can be cruel , if you’re not a dreamer . ’

summary : you start your first day at the cafe, and learn of a certain bandaged barista, unknowingly kidnap his cat, but it was somewhat worth it when he and another barista come over to the cafe the next day searching for his ‘beloved’ cat and thinks that one of your friends stole it as revenge.

AUTHORS NOTE : hai !! first chapter is done, and i had so much fun writing this. unfortunately, i did struggle at some parts, like the rent thing and had no idea what to do for the plot😭 so, let’s all just act like its a good excuse and its just for the plot !! and characters might be ooc, and unfortunately for everyone, i highkey dgaf and this is for fun so if u come in my ask box to say “omg this is so ooc!!” YES I KNOW GET OUT OF MY ASKS I KNOW anyway if u do wanna be tagged in future updates, just lmk i will gladly tag you :3

GENERAL WARNINGS : reader is afab / fem, she/her pronouns will be used when needed. cussing (obviously), sometimes i will specify outfits but you can just imagine your outfit any other time lol , college stuff, substance abuse mention in other chapters, self harm mentions at times (dazai), dazais siblings r elise and yumeno, and oda, mori his dad.. the slowest slow burn of all of the slow burns, rare sex jokes because i can not resist, and just typical dazai behavior .. also, it has been awhile since i have written like this, so i might be bad at first so. um. ignore that.. + some time skips so we can get to the good part :) tried to speed this chapter up so we can get to the better part of the fic ! anyway, have fun reading!

you had set a routine for yourself once you left the comfort of your home for college; sleep, wake up at 5am to get ready, go to class at 6:30am, study after class, go to more classes, go back to your shared apartment around 4:30pm, relax a bit until 10:45, sleep, and repeat. you were not planning on changing that at all, until your landlord decided to up your rent, and you were forced to work with your friend, chuuya, who was working at a local cafe. originally, he had been paying the rent, and you paid the bills with money your parents gave to you as a little startup, and you could not pay rent with the money, and did bills until now.

you had felt bad for him once the rent raised, especially since the rent was now almost 1,950?? you possibly couldn’t let him pay by himself! so, you got a job at the cafe he worked at with your friend group.

and, you seriously regretted that after seeing how chaotic it was..

⌢ time : 4:30 pm . ⌣

you and chuuya were walking to the cafe after class. the heels of both of your shoes clicked against the pavement of the sidewalk, the sound of your voices quietly echoed through the air of the already loudness of the campus, other students chatting away and the sound of the occasional laugh registered in your mind.

“you’ll be fine, the cafe is a really nice place. you’ll do great, i’m sure.” chuuyas voice suddenly came through, breaking the momentarily silence you two shared for a bit.

you never really worked in a cafe. a fast food place? sure. but a cafe was new, but you knew everything since your mother owned a cafe, and you sometimes came over and watched her work. but this was new, you are ACTUALLY working at one, and doing all the things you saw your mother do.

“i know i’ll do fine, it’s just new, y’know?” you reply to him, but you were grateful for his assurances either way. a small hum left him after you spoke, and you could feel him offer you a small look. “just don’t stress about it, yeah? if you need anything, i can help you.”

after alot of talking, you two had started walking out of campus grounds and walked down the sidewalk towards the cafe, and you could see the little building in the distance after a few minutes of walking.

⌢ time : 5:39 pm . ⌣

luckily, there weren’t any customers since apparently, customers rarely came in at this time unless it was game day for the college, and then the cafe was packed since it did have a tv where they could watch the game.

but that wasn’t all that important, you were just glad that you didn’t need to deal with ‘bitchy’ customers. chuuyas words, not yours.

you were in the middle of putting on your apron as your friends spoke, their voices overlapping the faint sound of music playing from the speakers.

“god, i hate those people. they constantly try to one-up us with their deals and purposefully got a bigger tv for game day. you know, one of those days, i’ll break that tv in front of them..” chuuya grumbled, his narrowed eyes focused on the cafe that was actually across the road. if it was not obvious that he hated the cafe across the street, then the look in his eyes was definitely an obvious sign.

“oh, calm down. it’s not like they do it on purpose.” higuchi spoke, rolling her eyes at his complaint while she wrote on some of the paper cups, something their cafe made them do to show that it was a welcoming spot or whatever the manger said. “oh, they definitely do it on purpose. have you seen how smug they looked when they got that tv? what bitches.” tachihara spoke up, standing next to chuuya as they both glared at the cafe across the street.

“aren’t you all being dramatic? it surely can’t be that bad.” you eventually spoke after getting your apron on and went to help higuchi, who gave a grateful look and continued. “she’s right, it’s not that bad, you’re all being dramatic.” higuchi agreed.

chuuya and tachihara glared at you and higuchi in sync, the two boys clearly judging you both. “you two have no idea what those idiots are like. even in class, they’re so bitchy. i am unfortunately cursed and have a class with the freaky bandaged one.” chuuya sighed, looking back at the cafe across the street.

you sighed, shaking your head at your best friends words. “you say that like it’s a bad thing, he might be nicer than you think.” you reply, trying to be optimistic since chuuya did have the habit of being a little dramatic with his opinions of people. “chuuyas right, the bandaged one or whatever his name is, is weird. dude looks like a mummy of sorts.” tachihara had spoken up, also looking back at the cafe.

chuuya immediately scowled once he saw some of the workers from the cafe across the street walking up to their own cafe, a few of them in a group as they started opening up their cafe.

you looked up and watched, examining the small group of people who seemed to go at the same college. there was a blonde man, a woman with dark hair that had her hair in a messy bob of sorts, a younger guy who looked to be a first year with white hair, one with brown hair and glasses, and another guy with brown hair that had bandages around him.

“what are their names?” you whisper to higuchi, not wanting to interrupt chuuya and tachiharas glaring. “hm? oh, the blonde is kunikida, the woman is yosano, the one with white hair is atsushi, the one with brown hair and glasses is ranpo, and the bandaged one that chuuya hates is dazai.” the blonde woman whispered back, to which you nodded in response.

“they seem nice, why is that they’re hated?” you ask again. you were confused, the group seemed genuinely nice, so you had no idea why most of your friends seemed to hate the cafe. “oh, chuuya got into a fight with dazai a few weeks ago and their cafe and ours seemed to have a war of sorts ever since.” she had whispered back, shrugging as she continued to write on cups.

ah, you had heard about that. chuuya had come back in the evening one night, and said he got into a fight with some ‘idiot from class that looks like hes cosplaying a mummy.’ .. you didn’t know why you didn’t realize that until now, but it made sense since chuuya had an obvious grudge.

⌢ time : 8:27 pm . ⌣

you and chuuya were now walking home after work, it had been a nice day, the cafe wasn’t that busy, and it was a good first day. now, you were walking home.

but, you stumbled upon a pretty, somewhat fluffy black cat, who seemed to be freezing in the low temperatures of the night. you were immediately going to help it as chuuya followed.

you looked back at chuuya as you sat on the pavement of the sidewalk, then at the cat and quickly took your jacket off. “what are you doing?” chuuya quickly asked as you slowly approached the cat, smiling at how the cat was snuggling up to your hand. “i’m not letting a cat freeze up in the cold. i would feel horrible if i left this poor thing in the cold.” you reply to him, slowly getting the cat to come closer.

the cat was the sweetest thing ever, you could hear small purrs come from it as you gently pet it, but you quickly wrapped it in your jacket and slowly picked it up, smiling at how it easily allowed it. the cat was obviously accustomed to humans, and trusted them easily, so it was pretty easy to pick it up.

“come on, we’re going to the store first and buying it some food until we figure out what to do with it.” you suddenly announced, already walking in the direction of the local store. chuuya sighed, already knowing he couldn’t stop you when you were determined and simply followed. “you’re insane. what are we going to do with a cat we found on the street? we can’t keep it!” he spoke, crossing his arms as he walked next to you.

“well, we’re not keeping it forever, dumbass! just until we figure out what to do with it or some missing pet poster pops up.” you remark back, a small huffy sigh left you as you continued your walk, and eventually made it to the store.

the two of you walked into the store, both of you offering polite smiles to the workers who greeted you both. you and chuuya walked to the pet aisle, and went to the shelf of cat food as you held the purring cat in your arms.

“do we get it wet food or?” chuuya whispered to you, you shrugged and just decided to go with wet food and dry food. you were sure wet food was the answer, but you wanted to be safe and not buy something the cat wouldn’t eat. “get both, just in case, y’know?”

chuuya hummed in response, grabbing a small can of wet food and a small bag of dry food before you two walked to the shelf checkout area. you watched how he scanned the items and put them into a plastic bag, and then decided to spare him of trying to find his card and offered to pay (more like forced..). “grab my card from my bag, it’s in the second pocket.” you spoke to him, smiling at the sigh he gave and went to your crossbody bag.

he went through the pockets, looking for the card in the pocket you said it would be in, and after a few moments, he eventually found it and grabbed it, and went to pay. and after a few seconds, he returned the card and closed your bag, then went to grab the plastic bag with the cat food.

after a few minutes, you two were now walking home with the cat and the cat food. you ignored the cold air biting at your hands, and you were suddenly grateful that you were wearing a warm, long sleeved shirt since you definitely didn’t want to get sick from this. but the cat definitely seemed warm.. lucky.

“what are we going to do with the cat when we go to work?” you suddenly ask chuuya, remembering that you actually had to work tomorrow and you didn’t necessarily trust a cat you picked up from the street to be alone in your house. “we can give it to koyou? she’s not busy and can watch the cat while we work.” he suggested with a shrug, knowing that his older sister, koyou, could probably help.

you nodded in agreement, knowing koyou could be trusted rather than all of your other friends. “yeah, we can go to koyous house before class, and after work, we can pick up the cat.” you agree.

⌢ time : 6:15 am . ⌣

you and chuuya were currently walking down the hallway of a familiar apartment building, walking to a door that had the number ‘629’ , the same apartment that chuuyas older sister lived in. as you held the cat with one arm, your free hand went to the door, giving a few knocks.

after a few moments, you and chuuya could hear the door lock unlocking, and the door opened to show a woman with redish hair, and was still wearing her home clothes. “oh, hello. did you two need something?” she spoke up softly, giving a polite smile, and a curious look.

you both immediately smiled back at the woman before you. “hey, koyou. we’re wondering if you can watch this cat for the day, and we’ll pick it up after work?” you ask her, seeing how she immediately nodded in agreement and you handed the cat over. “sure, i can watch it for the day. just get to all of your classes, yes?”

you mentally sighed in relief, mostly because you weren’t really expecting her to be that nice, and she seemed to be in a good mood. “thank you, koyou.” chuuya spoke before you, giving his sister a grateful smile before she nodded and closed the door with the cat in her hold.

well, at least you got that out of the way..

⌢ time : 5:08 pm . ⌣

you and all of your friends were at work, you and chuuya had arrived first, then tachihara, then higuchi. all of your other friends were busy with night classes, so they worked the morning shift, while you and the others worked the late afternoon to night shift.

anyways. you and chuuya were in the back, simply talking while chuuya got a smoke break, but then, you two heard yelling from the front. you immediately went inside while chuuya shortly followed after taking a big hit of his cigarette before putting it out, and quickly followed after you.

the moment you walked in, you were witnessing the weirdest scene ever. dazai and yosano were at the counter, talking to tachihara.

“i already told you, i didn’t see your stupid cat nor did i take it!” tachihara yelled back at dazai, who was looking at tachihara as if he killed his whole family. “bullshit, i know one of you took it as revenge!” dazai replied quickly, clearly unhappy and was certain one of you took it.

you and chuuya walked up to the counter, and chuuya crossed his arms as he interrupted. “what’s wrong now, dazai? why the hell are you yelling at my coworkers?” chuuya spoke, glaring at dazai, who focused his attention to you and chuuya as yosano sighed quietly and just watched.

“i know one of you took my cat, there’s nobody else who would steal it but you and your idiotic friends.” he easily replied to chuuya. the brunette took out a paper and waved it in chuuyas face, showing a missing poster of a fluffy, black cat. the same black cat you saved from the cold so it didn’t freeze to death.

well, fuck. you didn’t really mean to steal this guys cat, and the cat didn’t have a collar, so you just sort of assumed it was a stray.

you and chuuya immediately shared a look, before chuuya gave a cocky smile, and before you could speak and admit you had the cat, chuuya cut in and looked back at dazai. “nah, didn’t see your stupid cat anywhere. but i did see another cafe down the road take in a cat that sort of looks like that inside.” chuuya lied through his teeth, shrugging as if it was nothing.

dazai narrowed his eyes, shoving the paper back in his pocket, keeping eye contact the whole time. “osamu, if they said they didn’t take the cat, then they didn’t. no need to be this protective over it.” yosano suddenly spoke, then dazai sighed and softened, realizing he was being dramatic, but he couldn’t help it. the cat was the only thing making him survive the hell that was college.

“fine, if you say that you don’t have it, then you don’t. but if i find out that you or any of your friends stole it and you’re lying to my face, i will—” he spoke, but you quickly cut him off, and decided to just go with chuuyas lie since you two were way too deep into this now. “is it really necessary to threaten? how about this; if we ever see the cat, then we can come find it and give it to you, personally.” you had cut in with a polite smile, noticing how he looked at you, his mood changing immediately as he saw an opportunity to be playful with someone.

dazai smiled, suddenly perking up and becoming all nice. “is that so? personally? how sweet.” he replied with a hint of playfulness. chuuya immediately looked at dazai with a narrowed gaze, wondering how the fuck dazais mood changed.

you, tachihara and chuuya were both confused on how dazais mood quickly changed, how it was like he changed in a blink of an eye. first, he was all stressed and frustrated, then, he was suddenly cheerful and playful? what the fuck?

“yes, personally. now, if you and your friend don’t mind, we actually want to work.” chuuya scoffed, rolling his eyes, and dazai looked back at chuuya, seemingly calmed down and shrugged. “fine, then. enjoy your 4 customers.” he said with a mocking grin, then turned around, grabbed yosano and dragged her out the cafe.

tachihara watched the two leave the cafe in disdain, before the bell atop the door rang, signaling the door being opened and closed. “god, what a fucking mood swing that was.. jesus, that guy needs to get checked out and put on some pills.” tachihara mumbled, before going back to setting the coffee machine up.

chuuya was happily smiling once dazai and yosano left, clearly glad that dazai was finally out the shop. that was something he was grateful for. “we are not giving him back that cat until the end of the month, i must drag out his misery.” chuuya whispered to you with a happy sounding sigh, finally finding something to hold over dazai.

you sighed quietly, realizing that you couldn’t do anything since you just lied to that guys face about his cat, and was now holding the thing hostage. “we are so fucked.” you mumbled quietly under your breath.

you had no idea how you will keep your mouth shut about it, but it was too late now to go back..

small authors note : sneaking in my hc of dazai having very, very sudden mood swings hehe.. Though, i do apologize for how rushed this chapter was! just trying to get to the good part quicker ^_^ + reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated <3