#heart math stress management
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caffeinetooth · 2 months ago
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Master HeartMath Stress Management Techniques for a Healthier Life
HeartMath stress management is a science-based system that focuses on regulating emotional responses to stress. It emphasizes the connection between the heart and brain, using biofeedback techniques to help individuals achieve emotional coherence. This method offers tools to manage stress effectively by improving heart rate variability (HRV) and creating a state of calm and balance in the body.
How HeartMath Stress Management Works?
HeartMath stress management works by teaching individuals to consciously regulate their emotional reactions. By practicing breathing techniques and using biofeedback devices, people can monitor their HRV in real-time. This enables them to shift from a state of stress to one of coherence, where the heart, brain, and nervous system work in harmony, reducing the physical effects of stress.
The Science Behind HeartMath Stress Management
HeartMath stress management is grounded in the concept of heart-brain coherence, where the heart's rhythm influences emotional and mental states. When stress occurs, the heart’s rhythm becomes erratic, leading to physical and emotional distress. By using HeartMath techniques to regulate this rhythm, individuals can reduce stress and promote overall well-being.
Benefits of Practicing HeartMath Stress Management
Practicing HeartMath stress management offers numerous benefits, including improved emotional resilience, reduced anxiety, and enhanced focus. By regularly practicing these techniques, individuals can achieve a more balanced state of mind and body. Additionally, HeartMath helps reduce the stress-related health issues such as high blood pressure and cardiovascular diseases.
HeartMath Stress Management Tools and Techniques
HeartMath stress management provides a variety of tools, including the Inner Balance app and the emWave device. These tools offer real-time feedback on HRV, helping users manage stress by guiding them toward coherence. Techniques such as the Quick Coherence® method allow individuals to shift their focus from stressful thoughts to positive emotions quickly and effectively.
How HeartMath Stress Management Can Improve Workplace Productivity?
Workplace stress can affect both productivity and mental health. HeartMath stress management can be an effective tool for employees to reduce stress and maintain emotional balance throughout the workday. By incorporating HeartMath techniques, individuals can enhance focus, make clearer decisions, and foster a more positive work environment.
HeartMath Stress Management for Better Sleep
Stress is a major contributor to sleep disorders. HeartMath stress management techniques, particularly those that regulate HRV, can help individuals achieve a more restful sleep. By practicing breathing exercises before bed, HeartMath users can calm their nervous system, making it easier to fall asleep and stay asleep throughout the night.
Emotional Balance Through HeartMath Stress Management
HeartMath stress management promotes emotional balance by helping individuals control how they respond to stressors. By maintaining coherence, they can experience fewer mood swings and emotional reactions. This practice allows for greater emotional control, which is crucial for handling everyday challenges more effectively.
HeartMath Stress Management for Athletes
Athletes can benefit from HeartMath stress management by using the techniques to improve focus, endurance, and recovery. By regulating stress responses, athletes can achieve higher levels of performance and maintain a calmer mindset during competitions. This method helps them stay resilient under pressure and recover faster from physical stress.
Integrating HeartMath Stress Management Into Daily Life
Integrating HeartMath stress management into daily routines is simple. With just a few minutes of focused breathing and biofeedback practice, individuals can quickly shift to a state of coherence. Regular use of HeartMath tools can enhance emotional resilience and ensure that stress doesn't dominate everyday life.
Conclusion
HeartMath stress management provides a practical, science-backed approach to reducing stress and achieving emotional coherence. By incorporating breathing techniques and biofeedback tools, individuals can regulate their stress levels, improve mental clarity, and promote overall health. Whether in the workplace, at home, or in sports, HeartMath stress management is a powerful tool for enhancing well-being.
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cheezeybread · 5 months ago
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GOUDA!
DROP A PART TWO OF YUU OVERBLOTTING AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!
I'm not gonna lie, I was already drafting up a part two just for sillies hehe
I love writing characters to their breaking point, isn't it just the best? <3
As usual, Trigger warnings include crass language, possible violence idk, etc etc!
This ain't proofread lol
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
As the days passed by, the change around campus was...very noticeable. No one could function as well as they should have. Students were making reckless mistakes in class. Not passing tests, not even writing their own names on assignments, forgetting exam dates, putting ingredient A in a potion mixture instead of ingredient B.
The strangest part was the lack of magic in the student body.
For the Housewardens, especially, it was concerning. At first, the other students theorized that they weren't using magic out of some sort of protest for YN's conditions. But then, said students realized that they couldn't use their magic, either.
Professor Trein explained it best at the staff meeting a week after your episode.
"Magic is tied in directly with emotions," he had said, staring down at the table with an unusual air of solemnity "It isn't uncommon to see cases of powerful mages losing control of their magic after their partner passes away, or some other event. It's the main reason why scientists theorize that overblots are caused not only by an overuse of powers, but rather, mainly due to an excess of pent-up pressure inside a mage's heart."
"I don't know if you know this, Professor Trein," said one of the Mathematics teachers with an air of superiority "But this YN is not a mage, nor a magic user, at all!"
"He's not talking about YN in this case, you insolent dog!" Crewel shouted out, banging a fist on the table. Once the math teacher went silent, Professor Crewel cleared his throat and raised a hand to his mouth, attempting to regain his composure. His mood had been rather soured as of late...a result of his stress about the whole situation "I don't know if you know, but this meeting is not only about YN, but about the significant lack of magic in the student body! No one can use it at the moment. I'm not quite sure how you missed that."
"So...the students can't use their magic because of...emotional distress?" Coach Vargas suggested.
"Precisely," Trein nodded "YN has had quite an impact on all of the students at this school, whether we'd like to admit it or not, mainly due to the pressure Crowley put on them to step into other's problems," he cast a scornful look towards the Headmage, who looked suitable flustered "They've made friendships and bonds with the entirety of the student body, and even those who aren't friends with them are friends with those who are, so they're effected, as well."
The students were worried for different reasons.
While the staff was meeting, the Housewardens called their own meeting. Even the elusive Malleus managed to join them, and Idia came in-person, for once. Since the staff was holed up in their regular space, the Housewardens decided to gather in the Mostro Lounge. Surprisingly, Azul offered drinks free of charge, just this once. But no one felt too thirsty.
"I'm worried," Riddle started by saying, tapping his fingers against the side of his water that he hadn't taken a sip of.
"That's quite an understatement," Azul sighed, pushing his glasses up as he leaned back in his chair "No one else has been able to use their magic yet, have they? Not your students or anyone else?"
"No," Leona shook his head, looking greatly annoyed at this whole meeting. Although everyone could tell that there was an underlying emotion of concern on his face.
"Well, has anyone managed to talk to YN?" Kalim looked tired and worn-out, his normally sunny disposition replaced by an anxious look "Me and Vil tried to go to their dorm this morning with some of their favorite foods, but they didn't answer the door..."
"No, only Grim opened the door," Vil drummed his nails on the table, his brows furrowed slightly, unconcerned about the risk of wrinkles on his skin.
"Grim?" Interjected Idia "What did he say?"
"He only said that they weren't hungry..." Kalim shook his head "He- he said that they haven't slept hardly at all since it happened, waking up screaming after a few minutes whenever they have slept."
"And they haven't had anything to eat unless Grim could manage to force it down their throats, practically," Vil cleared his throat "He said that YN isn't talking to him, either, though. They're barely acknowledging his presence."
"But YN loves Grim!" Exclaimed Idia, looking bewildered.
"...Most likely, they merely need some time to themselves," Malleus said softly, speaking for the first time that meeting "They've been through so much, due to our mistakes as well as Crowley's. While we weren't the main cause of their stress, we undoubtedly had a great effect on it."
The Housewardens were silent, all thinking of the stress they piled up on you, all of their overblots, some of which they hurt you during. They had all made their mistakes. They had never once given you a proper apology, had they? Simple sorry's were said, but actions spoke louder than words, and their actions were minimal, at best.
"I say we try our best to apologize," Spoke Leona, as if he could hear all of their thoughts. He had the same one, after all. "And then we'll string up the Headmage by his shitty mask and fingertips and leave him for the ravens to eat."
They all agreed heartily.
════ ⋆★⋆ ════
You were terrible, a Grade-A mess.
Ever since your breakdown, you had been certifiably done with this school. Holing yourself up in yours and Grim's shared room, sitting on the bed staring at the wall.
You couldn't bring yourself to speak to Grim, feeling embarassed for the way you acted, but mostly feeling bitter traces of resentment towards him for his part in this mess. Although you knew the grudge was something you would have to get over sooner or later. Poor Grim had done his best to apologize in the only way he knew how, after all.
Saying "sorry" wasn't his style. The most he could do was not be a total pain. Seeing you not eat anything, he had brought you some of his hidden tuna cans, trying to balance a fork in both of his paws- without opposable thumbs, he made quite a mess after dropping it several times- and feed you. You tried your best to please him (although pleasing people is what got you to this point in the first place), opening your mouth and accepting whatever he could manage to get up to that level without dropping.
After you finished off a can, Grim looked at you with a sad look, and scurried off without a word.
When he saw you not sleeping, he tried to make you comfortable, bringing you whatever blankets and pillows he could find. The ghosts tried to lower their voices when speaking, and didn't try to scare you like they normally did. But you couldn't sleep. When you first fell asleep, you woke up to a sharp pain in your hand, discovering that you had been screaming and smashing your fists into the mirror over the mantle-place, the same mirror that had shown you visions of the Great Seven's tales. Grim had raised the Nurse's office and brought back band aids and disinfectants, while one of the ghosts did his best to patch up your hand.
After that, you tried not to sleep at all.
A week later, you found yourself drifting down the stairs to the lounge area, your head feeling a little lighter than it had before. Were you starting to heal? No, healing would take the effort of you unpacking everything instead of having a breakdown and shutting yourself off to the world. But maybe this was a sign that you could take the first steps to recovery.
Grim was overjoyed by your movement out of the room, taking it as a sign that you would be okay, finally. He tried to feed you one of your favorite foods out of a tupperware container- mentioning that it was brought over by Vil and Kalim- but you took the fork yourself with a smile, and ate a bite before your lack of appetite got the best of you and you had to put the food back up.
The doorbell rang, a deep, long sound. Did you feel like dealing with people? Maybe so. You'd have to start somewhere, somehow.
As Grim eagerly- yet cautiously- followed you to the door, you unlocked it and opened it, peering around the corner.
There stood all seven Housewardens, their eyes collectively wide at seeing a pale, (and frankly) sick-looking YN.
It was Vil who gained his composure first, bowing his head gracefully.
"Dearest YN, we have a letter for you. We thought it best to allow you to read it yourself, so you can have some time to think over it without any etiquette-worrying." The blond held out a folded piece of paper, and you slowly took it from his unsteady hand.
"Thank...you," you spoke quietly, your throat still recovering from all the screaming you did seven days ago.
"We'll take our leave now," Vil cleared his own throat, casting you a small look before he made a sweeping motion with his hands, turned around, and walked off of the property with the other 6 housewardens.
Watching them until they faded out of sight, you leaned up against the doorway, not bothering to close the door as you unfolded the letter and began to read
--
"Dearest YN, this letter is a collection of our thoughts for you. We as housewardens realize the amount of pressure that you have been through, and we regret that we were unable to see the signs sooner.
Throughout this school year, we began as seeing you as something less than. You were merely a magicless human, after all, who wasn't even able to be sorted into a proper dormitory. Instead, you were forced into babysitting a dire beast in an abandoned, trashy excuse for a building (pardon the insults, it really is a lovely dorm thanks to all the hard work you've put into it). Despite having no magic, you were expected to take classes, which added coursework into all you had to worry about. Crowley continued to make you work for him to pay off the imaginary debt he believed you to owe the school for bringing you here against your will. And then we, separately, went through intense overblots, hurting you physically and mentally, as well as forcing you to solve our own problems and unhealed traumas/resentments.
We leaned on you wholly for support. But we never stopped to think of your own wellbeing. A magicless human amongst mages and students, you were obviously in danger at every turn, yet we didn't offer to assist you with learning proper defense techniques. We expected you to solve all of our problems and disputes, because, after all, that was what we believed you to be there for. It was what you were good at, so we allowed ourselves the selfish pleasure of using you for your talents at healing us. You were overworked, everyone dumping their schoolwork on you knowing full and well that you wouldn't say no to someone in need of assistance.
We are all very sorry, and know that our words cannot heal what you've been through. We know that you miss your home, and we haven't been providing you with any comfort in making this place your home-away-from-home in the meantime.
So please accept our offers to help you now, if it's not too late.
Any coursework you have trouble with, I'll help you with. You've helped me to see that I'm only human, and I shouldn't be expected to achieve perfection. The loudest person isn't always the right one, YN, sometimes it's the most quiet one that has the most important opinions. Just like you.
-Riddle
Anybody that gives you any trouble, I'll make sure they're on the menu for our next barbecue at Savanaclaw dorm. Because of you, I can see that despite being a second-born, I can be something great, so long as I don't hold myself back.
-Leona
If you need a suitable job for pocket money, Mostro Lounge always has an available spot open for you. If that's not to your liking, I'd be more than happy to find you a job that's low-stress yet still provides enough of a paycheck for you to be satisfied with. Contract-pending, of course. Due to your interference, I know that I'm good enough, even without stealing powers and such.
-Azul
Anytime you need to destress and relax, give me a call! I'll happily help you anyway that I can, whether it's helping you with your workload or anything! Just name it! I'm at your service- just think of me as your humble servant! :D Thank you so much for your help with Jamil, I'm so sorry he trapped you in Scarabia for most of Winter break! You've given me a chance to really be his friend now, and for that, you deserve anything I can give you!
-Kalim
I can now see that being number one in the world isn't everything...I shouldn't be so stressed over everything that the public thinks in comparison to me alongside LeBlanche. I should simply be myself, as beautiful and perfect as I can be. The same applies to you, YN. You are beautiful and perfect in your own right, and should never look down upon yourself. Anytime you need a spa break or assistance with Alchemy, consider me your go-to.
-Vil
You've helped me be a little bit more social, better in public. You never made me feel like a freak for my interests. I'm sorry I can't say more, I'm totally blanking on the spot right now- but rest assured that I'll totally be making a bunch of technology for you to use, that way you'll be way more powerful than anybody else, even without magic!
-Idia
The Headmage is locked in the basement of Diasomnia
-Malleus Draconia
And as an additional note, we would like to officially claim that we believe Crowley's claim of it being impossible to return you home holds little to no merit...we shall be investigating this matter rigorously on our own time, until we discover a way home for you. If, The Great Seven forbid, we cannot find a solution, each of us are willing to accept you with open arms and make sure your time in this world, even after school ends, will be nothing short of amazing.
With all the love you deserve,
Vil (and co.)"
----
The letter made you smile so wide that your cheeks started to hurt. As you got further down, then began to reread it again, your eyes began to water, tears dripping down and landing on the paper.
Soon enough, you were a sobbing mess on the floor, the letter still gripped in one hand. But you were still smiling, despite the tears.
"YN! YN, Are you okay??" Grim asked worriedly, shaking your arm with a concerned look. He hadn't even called you his hench-human since the incident due to his concern for you.
You opened up your arms and wrapped up the cat-creature in a hug, burying your face into his fuzzy back. He made a small yowl of surprise, but didn't try to pull away.
"Not- not yet, Grim," You choked out, sniffling "But I will be."
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
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chimindity · 2 months ago
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As I struggle to do my homework, I got this amazing idea about brother!rafe helping his little sister with her homework. Warning | reader is a toddler, rafe being a bit of a meanie.. A/N | dividers by @marvelfanfics1 (my sweetie!!)
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You've spent your monday afternoon playing with your toys and still haven't done your homework. It's already 8 pm when Rafe walks into your room to check on you. You startle at his presence, dropping your stuffed bunny on the carpet. -"Shit, you still have homework to do, right?" he asks, leaning against the door. You look up at him, the realization dawning on you.
-"I need help with my math exercise, Rafey," you pout, standing up and leaving all your Calico Critters on the floor as you head to your backpack. Your brother shakes his head, a wave of disappointment and annoyance washing over him. -"Unbelievable. Go sit at the table and show me those exercises," he sighs, waiting for you at the table. You stumble over to him with your arms full of notebooks.
-"Jesus, kid, why haven't you thought about it sooner, huh?" he rolls his eyes, helping you place all your notebooks on the table so you can sit beside him. He coughs as he starts to read the exercise statement. -"Uhm, I was busy playing," you mumble while rummaging through your pencil case looking for your favorite pencil.
Rafe pauses and stares at you as you keep looking for your pencil. -"Hey, can you stop? Just take a goddamn random pencil, I don't have all night," he rolls his eyes once more and yanks the pencil case from your hands to grab a pencil. Your bottom lip quivers as you watch him put your pencil case on the side. -"But Rafey—" you get cut off by Rafe as he puts down your notebook in front of you and hands you the pencil.
-"You got five apples. If I eat three, how many apples do you have left? Come on, it's easy," he sighs, showing you two raised fingers. You pause before exclaiming happily the answer. -"Alright, write it down," he motions for you to write on your notebook while reading the next exercise, which is a bit harder this time.
-"This one's tricky. How much is 7 x 8?" He notices the smile fade from your face as soon as you hear the question, beginning to fidget with your fingers. -"Uh, I don't know, Rafey," you pout, rubbing your sleepy eyes with the back of your hand, causing your brother to sigh and sit up against his chair. -"Hurry up, just use your brain, this is not that hard," he brings his fingers in front of you to tap them on your temple.
You slowly start counting on your fingers while feeling a wave of stress running through your heart as Rafe rushes you. -"Rafey! It's so hard," your eyes start to well up in tears the more you keep saying the wrong answer. -"Are you brainless or what? Come on, 7 x 8?" All of a sudden, there is a loud silence in the room, only your sobs are being heard. Rafe stares at you before rubbing his forehead with his hand.
-"Keep crying and I'll give you a good reason to cry," he purses his lips, placing down your pencil case as he watches you sob even more, tiredly rubbing your eyes while mumbling, -"I don't know!" Rafe waits a few seconds before standing up and lifting you up in his arms by your armpits. -"The answer was 56," he sighs, watching you snuggle in the crook of his neck as you keep sobbing.
-"Let's just blame this on the tiredness, uh?" He chuckles and finally tucks you into bed, noticing you have already fallen half asleep in his arms. He brings you your stuffed bunny from the floor and places it beside you, running his fingers through your hair as he watches you struggling to keep your eyes open. -"All good?" he asks. -"Yes, Rafey," you manage to answer him. He crouches down a little to leave a kiss on your forehead before eventually walking out of your room and switching off the light.
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smallpwbbles · 3 months ago
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She didn’t get that sketch book back
Quick fic for my Biolizard shadow au taking place pre Ark incident, just some nice fluff between Maria and Shadow
Feel free to criticise the fuck outta this, haven’t written a fic since I was like 13, did feel nice to write this though, hopefully I can turn write a longer fic for the au like I said I wanted to do
Maria was beginning to get restless, it had been a long week full of tests, resting, recovering and just a general sense of stagnation. The days were beginning to phase into a repetitive cycle and while she could manage with it, she couldn’t say it wasn’t beginning to get boring.
Her studies were just finishing up, she had once again been bested by her least favourite subject, math. Maria was quite smart for her age, a symptom of being a Robotnik no doubt, however math had such a way with turning her brain to mush. She was sick enough as it was, she didn’t need the subject doing away with her mind too.
Her notebook and sticky notes were packed away in a cute little cubby adorably stuck with a tag with her name on it, next to hers was an empty cubby addressed with the name Shadow, it was unfortunate that with the monstrous hedgehogs seemingly unending growth spurts came the ability to not fit almost anywhere on the Ark, apart for his enclosure of course.
Maria put a hand to the unused cubby, she very much missed studying in the classroom with Shadow, but her grandfather did allow for studies to be taught with Shadow in the enclosure when they were both on best behaviour, the old man may be a stickler but was an absolute softie at heart.
Gerald was erasing the algebra on the blackboard with a content smile, Maria could see he was in quite a good mood today which was especially great as the week of tests wasn’t just unfortunate to her. As Shadow was due for many tests to check on the state of his growth, Gerald and his team spent many weeks trying to get it under control right after Shadow had begun to increase in size rapidly.
The scientists had all done their best but to an ailing Shadow, who had to be okay with needles and diagrams shoved in and around him, he was at best irate and at worst, down right hostile. One of the testing scientists was still recovering in the first aid section of the Ark after a particularly vexed Shadow struck out. He was “grounded” after such an incident, which doesn’t mean much when you’re 35 feet and can kill a person with minimal effort, but it meant Maria couldn’t see him at the moment.
That wasn’t gonna stop her from trying.
“Grandfather! Studies were absolutely wonderful today, I feel maths gets easier and easier each time you teach it to me” Maria lied. Her plan was to butter him up, get him in an even better mood, maybe then he would feel lenient enough to let her stay in the enclosure with Shadow.
“It makes me glad to hear that Maria my dear, maths has always been an essential subject matter in the world of education, why I’ve loved maths ever since I was a young tot, you know I solved my first problem when I was just 3 years old-“ Gerald kept on. Oh no, she got him rambling, maybe she could shoot her shot and just ask outright. The last time he rambled it put her right to sleep on her desk, it hurt his feelings but the second she started hearing percentages her brain shut it down.
“May I see Shadow today!?” She hadn’t meant to blurt it out so outright but she felt the ramble was about to edge towards fractions and decimals and she quite had enough of those today
Gerald’s animated ramblings stopped in an instant and he faced his granddaughter who was doing her best to charm him with her childish adorable appeal
He hummed and hawed for a moment before shaking his head “Now Maria I know you miss Shadow very much but he is in trouble at the moment”
A wave of defensiveness washed over Maria as she recounted Shadow was currently punished due to actions he did in a moment of stress and anger, she felt in the same position she would have struck out or at the very least gave that scientist a good old raspberry, she was still proud she taught Shadow that, Gerald didn’t need to know that though.
“Oh but Grandfather, it’s been more than a week, I’m sure Shadow has learned his lesson” Maria begged.
“He growled at one of our scientists who came for a check up this morning, one he particularly likes mind you” he retorted
“I mean it could be a bit of that teenage rebellion you’re always claiming me to have when I’m not happy to see you in the morning” She countered.
“I-“ Gerald stopped himself and put a finger to his lip, honestly he couldn’t dismiss that. As Shadow continued to grow he picked up more behaviours Gerald could attribute to the traditional development of adolescence. It still had him flabbergasted as he recalled Shadow sticking his tongue right at Gerald one time during studies.
“None the matter, I don’t want you getting hurt in there because of the irritation he’s at right now” Gerald commanded. Maria deflated, this definitely wasn’t going out the way she has planned.
“He would never! Shadow absolutely adores us, he wouldn’t hurt us” Maria argued, she trusted this 100%. Although around most people some could say Shadow could be careless, Maria and Gerald were of a select few that Shadow handled with the upmost care and caution. Maria could just about get away with doing anything around Shadow, if not for her sickness she would most definitely use the gigantic hedgehog as a playground.
At quiet times before lights were out, when allowed she would curl up in Shadows large claws, it amazed her how still and gentle he could be, she felt like a glass doll in his hands as she deducted he was so still in fear of jostling her. It saddened her that Shadow was at such a state he felt even the slightest movements would hurt her.
Gerald put a palm to his head, “I know he wouldn’t hurt you on purpose Maria, but Shadow can forget himself sometimes, need I remind you of Steven, who is in the infirmary because of Shadows actions?” He scolded. Maria didn’t have a retort for that, she could defend shadow as much as she liked but it didn’t change that he had indeed hurt someone.
She looked down to her dress skirt and gripped the fabric of it, she knew better than to act like a brat not getting their way but she was getting irate, one more plea, and if no results she would would back down, lest she get into an argument with her grandfather and end up in trouble herself.
“I’ve just felt absolutely restless. I understand he’s in trouble grandfather but he always behaves around me, I could even go in there and get him to apologise! He’s usually nicer after I give him a good talking to” Maria gripped her skirt harder, she was honest about getting him to apologise, she didn’t want him thinking what he had done to that scientist was okay.
Gerald studied her for a moment before letting out a defeated sign, the softie in him had won, he hated seeing Maria as desperate as she was, and she was not wrong. Maria’s presence seemed to greatly improve Shadows mood the most
“Fine, you can see him” Maria almost jumped up in excitement but steeled herself, it didn’t stop her from looking absolutely giddy “but you are not to rile him up in any way, and if I feel you are in danger you are to come out, understand” Gerald instructed.
Maria gave a silly salute, she couldn’t help it knowing her plan came around “loud and clear!”
——————————————————————
He was clearly pouting when she got to the viewing windows of Shadows enclosure, he was lying on his side and had his back to the large reinforced windows, so nobody could see his face. It was cute to Maria, he always did this getting in trouble.
He was also very still, she actually couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not in that position, a second later when he turned his head slightly to notice her presence confirmed he was indeed awake. Shadow had quite the ability to sense the people around him without anyone else knowing they were there. He glared at her before immediately curling in on himself, she had no idea how someone that big could make themselves look smaller but he was managing quite well.
She put her hands to the window, the glare he just gave her hadn’t put her off, he clearly wasn’t as happy to see her as she thought he would be but that was her gigantic, hedgehog, lizard buddy in need and she hadn’t almost got on her knees and begged to see him for nothing.
3 little taps to the glass, Maria did this just to give him a warning whenever she was coming in, in response Shadow seemed to curl further in on himself, he almost looked like a gigantic spiky ball.
Maria made a small trek down a compact set of Stairs to some steel doors that led into the enclosure, there was a code box right next to the doors that needed an input only Maria, Gerald and some trusted scientists knew. Quickly putting in 4 digits, her birthday as predictably done by her grandfather, Maria bounced in excitement as the doors painstakingly opened.
The chamber was quiet and smelled of lavender, Maria had recommended a calming smell might tide over Shadow to act nicer during testing, while it hadn’t, he still very much enjoyed the smell.
Maria encountered the big ball of black and red quills and scales, he was very much still pouting and didn’t seem to want to acknowledge her. She gave a couple pats to what she could assume was his tail but it was quite hard to tell as curled up as he was.
Shadow gave no response to indicate he felt the pats so she grabbed a few quills and gave a small tug, she didn’t want to tug hard as she’d definitely get cut if he bristled his quills in response, yet he still gave no reaction.
Oh he was really having quite the tantrum today. She put her hands to her hips and gave the giant wall of quills a tired look
“Shadow it’s me! Are you not happy to see me?” Maria yelled up at him.
If he was, he gave no reciprocation. It humbled her quite intensely as it was a first for Shadow to completely ignore her.
She looked down at her shoes and decided if he was gonna be the Debbie of downers she would use other means of entertainment. She pulled out her small sketch pad that conveniently fit in her skirt pockets. It was a great source of distraction when she had nothing to do or nobody to talk to.
She walked over to some worn down chairs that were placed carefully far to one end of the enclosure, they were initially placed there for observation of Shadow but it was an overestimated idea as most scientists didn’t have the nerve to be in the same room as Shadow for more than 5 minutes. Maria abused this section of the enclosure to benefit her creative devices and made Shadow the subject of most of her sketches.
It was about 5 minutes into drawing when she had stopped drawing Shadow as doodling a curled up spiky ball hadn’t been as fun as she thought. She looked up from her sketch pad as Shadow began to unfurl, as he stretched out she heard some of his bones crack back into place, bones cracking was already an unnerving sound to her, hearing it at Shadows size was something entirely else so she couldn’t help the look that came on her face.
Shadow stopped his stretching to study her, he smirked at the unsettled face Maria made as it was quite an amusing expression for her to pull, the smirked made her a little irate considering how rudely he was to ignore her just before.
“I see you got tired of pouting” Maria huffed, Shadow simply stuck her tongue at her, she gasped in shock and stook up immediately, absolutely aghast he would use such a move on her of all people, she kind of wish she hadn’t taught him that now.
“That’s absolutely- why I never- you are such a rude-“ she couldn’t make up her mind what to say in response. Shadow sat on his hind legs and looked at her in amusement, to anyone who could have been outside the enclosure, the sight of a young blond girl yelling and scolding the near 40 foot giant beast was bewildering.
“It’s no wonder grandfather didn’t want me to see you, with you acting like such a brat I have half a mind to walk out of here, are you even sorry for what you did?!” Maria furiously turned her back to him and folded her arms, if she looked back she would have seen Shadow flinch at the question. “The scientists are doing the best to help you and you had someone sent into first aid!” She grumbled.
Maria heard some loud shuffling then the room shook for a moment, she steadied herself and looked back to see Shadow had repositioned himself with his back to her. She didn’t know why the sight infuriated her more but it just seemed like he wanted to be insanely difficult today.
She began to march over to him, about to give him a peace of her mind. However when she traversed enough to get a even look at what she assumed would be a unremorseful smug smirk, she was met with a regretful furrowed brow, his red crimson irises met her blue azure ones and he instantly looked away and brought his arms up to hold himself. He wouldn’t look back at her.
Maria began to calm herself, one look at him told her what she knew, of course he felt bad for what he did. She wanted to give herself a right slap for forgetting herself, he obviously found it hard to talk about what happened, she shouldn’t have expected him to be right and ready to talk as soon as she walked through those doors.
She slowly came closer and put a hand to his ankle, that was as much as she could reach at his current sat up stance. He dared a glance down at her tiny form and again looked away, she could feel the giant begin to tremble, she then heard as an unmistakable voice rasped out “…didn’t mean to”.
His voice rumbled throughout her body as her heart wrenched at that statement. She believed it without question, he was gentle and caring, she was tired after the week long tests. Maria could only imagine what it was like for him after being poked and prodded for hours on end.
“I know” she comforted. She really did wish he was at least a little smaller, it was really hard to comfort someone who has a hand as big as your entire body.
She could attempt to climb up his leg but she really didn’t want to risk getting Gerald upset with her if she was to exacerbate her already strained lungs. She motioned at shadow with her hand and got his attention “Shadow your hand please” she gently commanded
He knew what she was asking and took a hand off his person to reach her, only seeing his claws near her had him stop for a moment which Maria noticed. “You would never hurt me” she assured. He gently scooped her up and cupped his other hand to the one holding her.
Shadow brought up a safely secured Maria up to his face in which she at once assaulted him with a full face hug, it surprised him for a moment but he instantly melted into it. She did this when she knew he was even a bit upset. He did find the gesture embarrassing but appreciated it all the same.
Maria nuzzled into his muzzle harder, she’d be finding fur in her dress for ages but she didn’t mind, the priority was Shadow. She was glad he was remorseful, it would have been alarming if she had to explain why it’s wrong to send someone into the infirmary but Shadow seemed to grasp the consequences of the event that transpired.
“You are going to apologise once Steven is out of the infirmary aren’t you?” She left his muzzle alone finally and looked up at him, he seemed embarrassed at such a request but knew he couldn’t argue with something that was the least he could do. He nodded firmly and hoped it would be enough to satisfy Maria.
It definitely was as she once again came full force with a hug to his muzzle, he did wish he could return such a gesture properly but he’d definitely crush the poor girl with such a return, instead he just leaned his face into her arms, she was such a tiny thing to him but the action warmed his heart so immensely he’d almost forgotten why he was mad in the first place.
Maria plopped back into his palm, content with her job as “the Shadow whisperer”, as she had oddly dubbed herself in her mind. She wished she could converse with him about all the events that transpired while he had been “grounded” but it mostly included tests which was the furthest thing she was sure both of them wanted to talk about. In that moment she remembered the little notepad she was doodling in earlier.
Shadow watched as she fought to relieve her pocket of the sketch pad and as she flicked through a few pages of quite nice and detailed drawings of him and a few familiar faces he’d seen on the Ark, his interested peaked as he watched her turn to her recent pages and she chortled, Maria shakily stood up on Shadows surprisingly soft palm and held the sketch pad to Shadow, who’s interested promptly died when he saw a drawing of a spiky ball which had been nicely detailed with an annotate to tell whoever was reading the ball was a “grumpy pouty shadow”.
Maria watched Shadows face fall flat and couldn’t help that roar of laughter that immediately escaped her, this only continued to irritate the humongous hedgehog. He brought over his other hand that didn’t have a laughing Maria in it and swiftly brought it over his palm, Maria yelled out a panicked “NO WAIT-“ as he did so. He didn’t hurt her, he just gave her a quick squish to shut her up. That seemed to do the job as he opened his palms to a silence Maria who had her hair adorably scruffy from the attack “I hate it when you do that, I totally deserved it though” she concluded
He snickered at that and she gave him a quick punch to his pinkie finger
——————————————————————
Maria had lost track of the time she had been in the enclosure after 2 hours. She wasn’t worried she’d been in too long as her Grandfather had cameras in the chamber and would have called her out if he wanted her out.
She had returned to her drawings while she was cradled in Shadows palms. She was absolutely engrossed in her current drawing and hadn’t noticed Shadow wasn’t giving input or feedback on her drawings anymore.
The palm she was in suddenly jerked and she had to grab one of his fingers to keep from losing balance, her sketch pad had fallen to the ground when the motion happened. She looked up when she was steadied and saw Shadow, he seemed to have not noticed what he had done. Honestly he seemed quite out of it, she quickly realised the poor thing was fighting sleep and must have accidentally jerked back to being half awake.
“Shadow” Maria called, his eyes opened fully to address her but immediately went back to being half lidded. “Are you tired? I can leave so you can get some rest” she offered.
He stubbornly shook his head and cupped his other hand under her, normally he would have let her go off when she wanted and went back to doing as he did alone in the enclosure but she was sure it was his sleepy brain not wanting her to leave and he was acting upon that.
“Alright alright, don’t have a fuss I’m not going anywhere, even if I could” he had brought his hand close enough that she could reach a particular spot under his muzzle, she gave it a few scritches and had to steel herself when he began purring, it was an intense and loud sound that she feel sending waves through her entire body but she bared it.
He leaned into it, and began to literally lean his entire body’s forward when the feeling of the scratches began to calm his already tired mind, Maria had to stop and immediately grabbed onto anything she could, which was his ring finger as Shadow fell forward, the enclosure shook from the weight of him falling and Maria waited for the vibrations to die down, she hoped her grandfather was not watching the cameras at that moment as she could of accidentally been hurt, she could hear and feel the vibrations of Shadows quiet snores as it confirmed he has simply fallen asleep.
She hopped off his palm to trek to his face, give him a quick hug. Her mission was to now find her sketch pad, that last drawing she was engrossed with had come along really well and she wanted to show her grandfather how her art skills were coming out. Her face turned grief stricken when she realised her sketch pad had fallen where Shadow lay asleep right now, if he rolled over which she knew he was guaranteed to do, it was completely over for that drawing as well as her entire sketch pad.
Maria inhaled and then exhaled. The stories of the superheroes her grandfather read to her had to go through sacrifice, and right now as the shadow whisperer, she could definitely say she was going through sacrifice right now.
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kayewrite · 3 months ago
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How to Love?
genre:; fluff, angst (not really). word counting: 1754
Seungmin x reader (ft. mingyu of seventeen). college Seungmin!. Medicine student Seungmin! (will write lots of university fics because im delulu college student *sobs)
wherein:  You are just curious, and you asked for tips from your friend, who willingly helped you.
i reccommend you to listen "how to love" by Day6
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You've never been in a relationship before.
Your focus has always been on studying. Study. And more study.
Aiming for the top has always been your priority, which is why the idea of having a boyfriend (or girlfriend) never even crossed your mind.
Besides, no one’s ever asked you out, so why bother thinking about relationships when the opportunity hasn’t even presented itself? (By the way, you’re not some stereotypical nerd. You love makeup and dressing up for yourself.)
But now that you’re in college, things are different. Your goals are getting harder to achieve. It’s not just that the course is challenging; it’s also because it’s not what you wanted to study in the first place. You’re here because of family pressure, and that’s made it even harder to keep up with your lessons.
In college, you start to realize something important:
Studying too much can really drain you.
As you look around, you notice how others are balancing their lives. Your deskmate parties every weekend, yet somehow she has the same grades as you. The notorious bad boy sitting in front, who’s always playing with girls' hearts and puts his studies at the bottom of his priority list, scored higher than you in Differential Equations.
And then there’s your dorm mate, who blushes while talking to someone on the phone. She has a boyfriend, yet she manages to balance her studies without letting it distract her. (By the way, why is she blushing?)
"I'm tired, physically and mentally," you say, resting your head on the cafeteria table while Seungmin, your friend, munches on his sandwich.
"That's what you get after not sleeping for several days and then pressuring yourself too much," he replies, continuing to eat his sandwich—wait, that’s yours!
You lift your head, tired but still sane.
"Then what should I do? What do college students do? Isn’t it our responsibility to learn?"
Seungmin rolls his eyes at your statement. "What are we, robots?" He puts down your sandwich and wipes his mouth with a napkin, realizing that it’s yours and that he should stop eating. (Only 1/8 of the sandwich is left.)
"Listen, you need to get a life. You’re wasting your college years with your nose buried in books. You should enjoy college because after this, adult life limits your happiness. So, as long as you can, enjoy and live your life."
On a normal day, you’d tease him, calling him dumb and saying he’s talking nonsense, but maybe because you’re so tired, or something else, for the first time what he’s saying makes sense.
"Wow, you’re making sense." Your face lights up, and Seungmin can’t help but laugh. "Is that what studying medicine does to you?"
"I'm always a genius, you dumbass. Eat my medals."
What Seungmin said rings in your brain. For the first time, you don’t stress about the upcoming exam.
"Seungmin," you call out after a long, comfortable silence.
"What?"
"I should date."
"Date what?"
"Date someone."
Suddenly, Seungmin clasps his hands together in an overly dramatic way and closes his eyes.
"Finally, my prayers have been heard."
But how do you start?
You weren’t pressured by your surroundings, right? You just want to experience it.
Experience.
But how?
"How?" you ask Seungmin when you sit under the mango tree, studying (again).
"How what? Don’t ask me math questions."
"I mean… how did you meet Shin?" you ask, closing your book.
Seungmin has a lot of experience in love. He’s had many girlfriends (and why not? He’s handsome). So asking him questions about love is never difficult.
Seungmin looks at you intently, his face showing a hint of curiosity.
"She came to me."
"And then what?" Curiosity is evident on your face. Why haven’t you asked him questions like this before?
"And then we dated."
"That fast?"
"It’s because she loved me too much, and I was just doing her a favor." You slap him hard.
"You’re a playboy."
"I’m not. I’m kind."
"So if anyone likes you, you just date them?"
"Well… no."
"I think I’m an idiot for asking you for advice." You lean back and open your book again.
Seungmin laughs at you. He realizes you must be serious about your decision, so why not help? (As a good friend should.)
"Okay, now listen to me. You won’t regret this decision, right?"
"Why are you getting scary?" you comment as he speaks with an unusually serious face.
"I mean, as your friend—a handsome friend, mind you—I’m going to tell you…" He pauses for dramatic effect. "How to love."
You pause, then hit his arm.
"Why are you making that serious face? You’re so funny." You both laugh, and when you’re tired from laughing, Seungmin continues.
"First, fall in love."
"Well, step one is kinda hard."
"Just use your charm, and then you’ll find love. And never let go of the people who want to take care of you. Have you seen yourself? You’re pushing people away."
"I am?" You think back to times in your life when you’ve pushed people away.
"Yes. So never do that. And if you find love, contact me for step two." He laughs, then stands up and runs off.
"What is this, a YouTube tutorial?" you sigh and open your book again, but your attention isn’t there.
"How can I find it?"
You sat alone at your usual spot in the cafeteria, a tray of untouched food in front of you. The sounds of chatter and laughter surrounded you, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying Seungmin's words about finding love. You let out a small sigh, thinking about how you’d even begin.
As you poked at your sandwich, someone slid into the seat across from you. You looked up, surprised. It was Mingyu, the handsome senior from your department. You’d seen him around before, but never this close. He had a confident, easygoing smile that made your heart skip a beat.
“Hey,” he said casually, setting his coffee down. “Mind if I sit here?”
You blinked, momentarily lost for words, then nodded. “Sure.”
He grinned. “I’ve seen you around. You’re always so focused, it’s impressive.”
You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. “Thanks, I guess. I just… try to stay on top of things.”
“You don’t have to explain,” he chuckled. “I get it. College is a lot. But you know, it’s also important to have fun.”
You looked at him, curiosity piqued. “And what do you do for fun?”
Mingyu leaned back, taking a sip of his coffee before answering. “I hang out with friends, play some basketball, and sometimes… I just like to talk to interesting people.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. The conversation flowed naturally from there—jokes, stories, shared frustrations about classes. Time seemed to fly by, and before you knew it, the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period.
Mingyu stood up, grabbing his things. “Hey, this was fun. Can I get your number? Maybe we can do this again sometime.”
Your heart raced as you fumbled to take out your phone. “Yeah, sure.”
After exchanging numbers, Mingyu flashed you one last smile before heading off to his next class. You sat there for a moment, still processing what had just happened. Then, without thinking, you grabbed your phone and dialed Seungmin.
“I think I found it,” you said as soon as he picked up.
Seungmin's voice on the other end was a mix of surprise and amusement. “Already? Wow, that was fast.”
Later that day, you met Seungmin again, and he couldn’t believe how quickly things had progressed. “So, what’s step two?” you asked, eager to hear more of his so-called wisdom.
Seungmin smirked. “Step two is to develop trust. It’s not easy, especially when you don’t know someone that well, but it’s crucial.”
You nodded, feeling a bit anxious. Trust wasn’t something you gave easily, but you were determined to see this through.
As days turned into weeks, you and Mingyu kept in touch, though not always frequently. He was busy with his senior projects, and you were swamped with your own studies, but whenever you did talk, there was a comfort and ease that made you feel safe. You found yourself trusting him, even when he wasn’t around.
One day, he invited you to a coffee shop off-campus. You said yes without hesitation. The atmosphere was cozy, with soft music playing in the background. As you sat across from Mingyu, sipping your drinks and chatting about anything and everything, you felt a warmth spread through you.
“I really enjoy spending time with you,” Mingyu said, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you. “Will you go out with me?”
You didn’t answer right away, but the smile on your face said it all.
The next time you saw Seungmin, he could tell something had changed. You were happier, lighter, and it was all thanks to Mingyu. “Alright, you’re ready for step three,” Seungmin said with a grin.
“What’s that?” you asked, still smiling from your last date.
“Build commitment. That’s the final step,” he said, though there was a hint of something else in his voice—something you couldn’t quite place. But you were too caught up in your happiness to notice.
As the days passed, you and Mingyu grew closer. You spent more time together, studying, laughing, sharing your dreams and fears. You felt safe with him, and that trust grew into something deeper. But every now and then, when you were with Seungmin, you’d catch him looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.
One afternoon, you were in the library with Mingyu, your heads bent over your books. Seungmin walked by, and you looked up, catching his eye. He smiled, a soft, bittersweet smile that made your heart ache just a little. He was happy for you, that much was clear, but there was something more—something he wasn’t saying.
You watched him walk away, a thought nagging at the back of your mind. But before you could dwell on it, Mingyu nudged you, making you laugh with another one of his jokes. The moment passed, and you pushed the thought aside.
But deep down, you knew. You knew there was more to Seungmin’s advice than just friendly concern. And as you watched him disappear into the stacks of books, you realized that maybe, just maybe, the steps to love he’d shared with you were ones he’d already taken… with you.
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oizysian · 3 months ago
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An Eggcellent Boy | Elizabeth Olsen
Summary: Y/N has a school project that she’s deemed stupid, but her partner might just change her perspective on the whole thing.
Word count: 3k
AN: Happy birthday to my number one fan! Thanks for always supporting me ❤️
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“Now, listen up, students! Today is a very important day! Today we’ll be giving each senior a sophomore to partner up with for a week to take care of your egg babies.”
A collective groan came from the crowd of high schoolers listening to the announcement. Yet another way to torture the students, I thought as I leafed through the little pamphlet they handed out.
“‘Your baby and you.’ This is so dumb.” I mumbled to myself, stuffing the leaflet into my backpack.
“When you meet with your partner, you must take care of your baby, make a plan for your baby’s care, and log it all in your journals.”
I rolled my eyes and continued to doodle in my notebook, not the slightest bit interested in the project. Who even cared about babies?
“You will meet with your partners and get your eggs today …”
As the Health teacher droned on about the specifics of the project, I zoned out. I had too many other things to worry about other than stressing over some egg. I was failing math and all I wanted was for Tom Sullivan to finally ask me out.
The bell rang and I packed up my things and got ready to head to my next class. I threw my bag over my shoulder and trudged out, nearly bumping into a group of girls walking in the other direction.
I growled under my breath and looked back at them, a blonde girl doing the same and looking back at me. I couldn’t deny the fact that she was beautiful, probably one of those preppy cheerleaders, not someone I’d ever be friends with.
I huffed and continued walking, pretending to be unbothered by the group of girls that no doubt thought they were better than me. I opened the door to my next class and took a seat in the back, not really wanting to be bothered with this class either. I just wasn’t in the mood to be in school.
I took out my notebook and started doodling again, thoroughly done with school for the day. While the English teacher spoke about Shakespeare and the complexities of his work, there was a knock at the door. An aide came in, looked down at her notes, and then called out one name.
“Y/N Y/L/N?”
I looked up from my book, hesitating before slipping my notebook into my bag and getting up and following the aide out. She was silent for a moment as we walked before clearing her throat and speaking.
“I’m taking you to meet your project partner and to get your egg.”
It took all my self control to not roll my eyes at her words. This stupid egg thing was getting out of hand.
We walked until we made it to the Health room and she opened the door for me, waiting for me to enter before entering herself. Inside was the girl I saw earlier; the preppy cheerleader. Oh, great, I thought to myself, THIS was going to be my partner?
“Y/N, this is Elizabeth, the senior that’s going to partner up with you for this project.”
“Hi.” I managed to bite out, trying to not sound as disinterested as I actually was.
“Hi!” She greeted me with a bright smile.
Goddamn her, she was beautiful and she was nice.
“Choose your egg, and follow all the guidelines in the pamphlet handed out earlier and you’ll both do fine.”
I looked from Elizabeth to the eggs, which were in cartons on the table. They were literally just … eggs. There was nothing special about them.
“You wanna choose?” I asked her and she nodded, walking over to the table and looking over the eggs before finally picking one from the back.
“What should we name him?”
I blinked at her, my eyes moving from her to the egg in her hands, and shrugged.
“I, uh, I don’t know. Why don’t you choose?”
“We should choose together. ‘Cos it’s our baby.” She said with a smile and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“How about … James?”
“James? I like it. Little James.” She gave the egg a tickle and my heart melted at the sight.
“Okay, girls, you can go now.” The Health teacher said and we walked out together, standing in the hallway awkwardly.
“I already know what we can put our baby in.” She said proudly, looking down at the egg in her hands.
“Oh yeah? What?”
“Let me take him tonight. I’ll bring him in tomorrow and then you can have him, okay?”
I looked at her for a moment before nodding.
“Alright. Do you want my number just in case James has an accident?” I teased and she nodded excitedly.
“Of course! I’ll call you if something happens.”
I sighed, waiting for her to get out a piece of paper and a pen so she could write down my number. I didn’t think she’d actually take me up on my offer.
She handed me one of her notebooks and a pen and I flipped it open to a blank page, jotting down my name and number and then handing it back to her.
“Great.” She said as she looked over the page. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N!”
She smiled at me then turned to walk away before turning back.
“When do you have lunch?”
“Fourth period.”
“Perfect, me too. I’ll see you then.”
She gave me a small wave then walked away with James, leaving me in the hallway, staring at her retreating back. What was I getting into?
The next day at school almost everyone was paired up or carrying around one of those damned eggs. I had pretty much forgotten all about it since Elizabeth had taken James - the egg. It was an egg, not a baby.
When lunch rolled around, I was pretty exhausted by my previous classes and the idea of working on this egg project. I had Health third period and all we talked about was our eggs.
I grabbed my tray of food and sat down at a table far in the back of the room. I just wasn’t in the mood to socialize.
“Hey!” A cheerful voice greeted me and I looked up to see Elizabeth with a lunchbox of sorts.
“Hey.” I greeted back, poking at my food with my plastic fork.
“I brought James.” She placed the lunchbox on the table and sat down. “You can take him tonight. He’ll be okay.”
I looked at her expectantly, blinking wordlessly.
“Where is he?”
She gently tapped the box and slid it over to me.
“You put it in a lunchbox?”
“It’s a mini cooler!”
I pulled the cooler towards myself and opened it. Inside James was nestled in what looked like a nest, surrounded by little handmade decorations. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She had put so much effort into this and I barely wanted to be bothered.
“It looks great.” I complimented it, closing the cooler over so James could keep cool.
“Thanks.” She smiled. “I thought that a cooler would be the best place for him. I’ve already heard some people had their eggs crack because they just put them in a regular old box with no cushions.”
“Guess they already failed the project.”
She nodded, placing her chin in her hand and watched me eat.
“How about we get together after school to work on our paper?”
“We’ve only had him for a day.” I said softly.
“Yeah, but we’re supposed to keep track of him every day for a week.”
“How much can we track? He’s just an egg.”
She giggled and shrugged. She probably thought this project was just as ridiculous as I did. She reached for her bag, unzipping it and pulling out the project pamphlet.
“We still have to give him a face. I figured you could do that tonight. Or we can do it after school together.”
“Together sounds nice.” Why did I say that?
Her cheeks flushed a slight pink hue and she continued to read.
“Then after the week is up, we have to reflect on the project; say if we were good parents or not, and if our feelings about the project changed from beginning to end.”
“This is so dumb.” I let out a chuckle and she nodded.
“I know, but this counts for more than half of our grade.”
I rolled my eyes and put my fork down. At least my partner wasn’t a complete idiot.
“They just want to torture us, forcing us to carry around an egg. An egg.”
“At least he can’t move.”
I nodded in agreement, tapping my fingers on the top of the cooler.
“What else do we have to do?”
“Didn’t you read the pamphlet?” She asked with a smirk and I shook my head.
“I barely even looked at it.”
She smiled and shook her head, looking over the paper in her hand.
“We also need a birth certificate. Do you wanna do that?”
“Sure.” I paused. “In that case, he needs a full name, right? I chose his first name so you can choose the middle.”
She nodded.
“Whose last name should he have? Mine or yours?”
“Why not hyphenate it?”
“That’s a good idea!” She seemed pleased.
The bell rang and she stuffed the paper back into her bag, zipping it up and putting it on her back.
“So, I’ll see you after school? We can meet by the gym.”
“Sure. I’ll see you then.”
She smiled and waved, getting up from the table and leaving. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and looked down at the cooler. Why did she have to be so nice and pretty and smart? Why was this affecting me the way it was? I was straight and she was just my partner for this stupid project.
The rest of the day went by quickly and I couldn’t wait to go home. That was, until I remembered I was going to meet Elizabeth by the gym. Shit.
I trudged over there, James in hand, and waited. It wasn’t long before I realized someone was still inside the gym and I peeked in.
Elizabeth was playing volleyball with another girl. I watched quietly as she confidently struck the ball, making the other girl run and fall trying to hit it back.
She cheered, jumping up and down as the girl got back up.
“You beat me again.” The other girl spoke and Elizabeth nodded happily.
“I have to be competitive. I have three older siblings.”
I smiled, watching her do something she clearly enjoyed and was obviously good at. After she had calmed down, she noticed me, smiling and waving as she made her way over.
“Hey, Y/N. Sorry, I got caught up in the game.”
“It’s fine,” I assured her. “I didn’t know you played.”
“Only for fun.” She looked down at the cooler in my right hand. “How was James today?”
“Good?” I was unsure if she was being serious or not. “He’s an eggcellent little angel.”
She slapped my arm playfully, giggling at my awful attempt at a joke.
“I’m gonna go get changed, I’ll be back in five minutes.”
I watched as she walked back into the gym, heading into the locker rooms. Something about her was captivating and I couldn’t deny it. She was kind, beautiful, athletic …
Wait, I was straight. Why was I getting starry eyed over a girl?
“Hey, you okay?” Elizabeth asked and I shook myself out of my head, nodding at her.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I raised up the cooler. “Wanna get started on the paper?”
“Yeah, sure. Let’s go to the library.”
“Okay,” I gestured for her to walk ahead of me. “Lead the way.”
She walked ahead of me, excitedly making her way down the hall towards the library. I watched as her hips swayed, her backpack hung low on her back, her hair tied in a loose ponytail - just every little detail had me hooked. I did not have a crush. I did not.
She looked back at me and smiled, holding the door open for me to enter first. Admittedly, I had only been in the library once or twice, and never for more than a few minutes. I walked in and waited for her, and she led me towards the back where we sat in a secluded corner.
“Okay. James.” I placed him on the table and she reached over to open his top. “What kind of face should we give you?”
“A happy face. With a blush.”
“That sounds cute.”
She dug around in her bag and pulled out a sharpie.
“Do you wanna do it?” She held out the sharpie to me.
“Sure!”
I took it from her and picked up James carefully, popping off the top, I scribbled on his face, doodling a little happy face with a blush. When I was done, I turned him around so she could see him and she covered her mouth in happiness.
“He’s beautiful!” She carefully took him from my hands and I put the cap back on the sharpie. “Our beautiful son.”
It was my turn to blush. Her words heat up my cheeks, the use of ‘our’ instead of ‘my’ really got to me. I placed the sharpie down and unzipped my backpack, pulling out some paper and a pen.
“Okay, his name. James …”
“Liam.”
“James Liam Y/L/N …” I looked at her expectantly.
“Olsen.
“Olsen. Done. He was born October 26th and his parents are Y/N Y/L/N and Elizabeth Olsen.”
She smiled and nodded excitedly.
“This is perfect. We’ll meet up every day and take notes on James and by the end of the week, we’ll be pro parents.”
We met up every single day at lunchtime and after school, dressing James, taking photos of us and James, and almost acting like a married couple. After a while, we would just talk about ourselves and we got closer and closer as each day went by.
I hated to admit it, but I was definitely developing a crush on Elizabeth. It wasn’t hard. She was perfect. Sometimes I found myself just staring at her as she spoke about her day with James or her family life or the different sporting events she was attending. I knew she couldn’t feel the same way about me, so I just fantasized and kept my feelings to myself. It was just a crush, it would pass.
We were working on our final paper when our hands touched as we both reached for the same pen. We stared at each other for a moment before giggling. I let her take it and dug around in my bag for a spare.
“Y/N?”
“Hm?” I hummed as I looked over my notes, flipping through the various pages of actual notes and just doodles.
“I think you’re really funny and really nice.”
“I think you are too.” My brain decided at that moment to malfunction, leaving that as the only response I could muster up.
She smiled and returned her attention to her paper. Did I just reject her? Was she coming onto me? I bit my lip in thought, staring down at the blank page I had flipped to.
“Must be interesting.” She teased and I snapped out of it, looking up at her confused.
“What?”
“Your paper. You’re staring so intently at it.”
I looked from her to the paper and chuckled nervously.
“Ah, yeah, that. Real riveting stuff.”
She shot me one of her dazzling smiles and I felt myself getting deeper and deeper into trouble with her.
I watched as she wrote in her notebook, her tongue pursed between her lips in concentration, her brow furrowed as she scribbled and jotted down her notes.
“Elizabeth …” I said softly, getting her attention.
She looked up at me expectantly and I froze.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?”
“N-nothing. I was just gonna ask how your paper is going.”
“It’s going okay. I’m up to the part where I have to write what I liked most about the project.”
“What did you like the most?” I was curious.
��Working with you.” She said bashfully.
My eyes shined with hope as she looked across the table at me.
“That was my favorite part too.”
“Yeah?” She asked shyly, smiling brightly.
“Yeah. I really like you, Elizabeth.”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and gnawed at it gently before speaking again.
“Would you … do you wanna get ice cream? After all this?”
Did she just … ask me out? I stared at her for a moment before nodding vigorously.
“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”
She looked at the clock on the wall and sighed.
“I guess it’s time to go.”
“Already?” I whined, looking at the clock myself.
“Yeah, I know how you feel.” She chuckled as she packed her things up and I did the same, but slowly; I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.
“You can take James.” I said softly, putting my bag on my back. “I know you wanna spend time with him before they take him away.”
“I do.” She smiled and approached me.
I looked up at her and licked my lips nervously. Why was I so nervous? She put her hand on the cooler that was sitting on the table in front of me and then bent her head down, pressing her lips to mine ever so slightly.
It was shock that hit me first. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening! Forget about Tom Sullivan - I had Elizabeth Olsen.
I took her face in my hands and kissed her back, smiling when she realized I reciprocated.
We pulled away after a moment and I couldn’t stop the goofy smile that was now plastered on my face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow? After school?”
I nodded, “Definitely. After school.”
She took my hand and James and we walked out of the library. This project was probably the best thing that ever happened to me, despite my distaste for it at first.
We walked to the front of the school, hand in hand, and only parted when we had to go our separate ways.
“Tomorrow?” She asked again, nervously and I nodded.
“Tomorrow.”
I gave her a peck on the lips and she lit up, giving me one back before letting go of my hand and walking off towards where she lived. I watched her retreating back and I smiled to myself.
“All because of an egg.”
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chouxsardine · 11 months ago
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Permission to Fall -- Jake Kiszka x reader
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Summary: "Don't be afraid of falling, because he will catch you everytime" --Where things became too much at your company's Christmas party and Jake comes to the rescue as the most thoughtful boyfriend that he is.
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader
Word Count: 3211
Warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, feet (nothing gross or super detailed), a drop of superstition (let me know if I've missed any)
Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort
Author's note: This is originally an idea inspired by @jakesguitarsolo and written for her. I hope you feel better now, dear. One idea spins into me pulling an all nighter...And here it is. This also goes to whoever feels stressed around this time of the year. Yes, things are tough, but you are stronger. I am so proud of you. If you want to talk, feel free to send me an ask or message. This is my first gvf fic and my first time writing anything for threes years. I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it too.
🎧: I am listening to I Need You Most of All by Stephen Sanchez while writing this (you can tell the title is taken from the lyrics)
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Suddenly everything is too much.
But you know damn well that it doesn’t just happen “suddenly”. In fact, shit has been building up for days, or even weeks. You don’t know if it’s the end-of-year frenzy getting into everyone’s head, Mercury is in retrograde, or the depleted Vitamin D levels due to shortened daylight, you’ve had it particularly rough recently, from small inconveniences like your favourite snack being out of stock at the local grocery store for three consecutive weeks to mishaps like you taking the blame for your impotent coworker. You are exhausted, to say the least; you couldn’t wait for the holidays. Not entirely for its cheer, but for the few precious days off. You just need a break from everything.
Now you are stuck in your company’s holiday party. The annual event that you dreaded the most. It involves too many fake smiles, false-hearted small talk, and tooth-rotting-sweet cupcakes that clearly have too much food colouring. All the mental preparing goes south as you stand in the room, the stabbing pain from your high-heels growing more and more unbearable by the second. Too many people.
“Just another thirty minutes, you can do it. Just another thirty minutes”. You hopelessly glance at the clock on the wall, flashbacking to your childhood self squirming in the seats waiting for math class to end.
But of course, something has to make matters worse. The real straw that breaks the camel’s back is your clumsy coworker accidentally bumping into you and spilling her drink on your shoes.
“Oh my god, I am so so sorry, y/n!” She hastily apologizes in a high-pitched squeal. A few people turn their heads toward your direction.
“No, no, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Embarrassment. Embarrassment. Panic. Trouble. You try to wave her off. The shoes aren’t even your top concerns right now; you just want her to stop talking and stop attracting more unwanted attention.
“Really? Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to! It’s just—”
“Please.” You take the handful of tissues from her, look her in the eyes, almost pleading, “It’s fine. Please excuse me, I’ll just go to the washroom real quick.”
Once the washroom door is closed behind you, you feel like collapsing right there on the floor. You wobble your way to the sink, arms propped up on the cold marble surface. You don’t dare to look at yourself in the mirror. Your ears are buzzing and the twisted feeling in your lungs tightens. As if a cold hand is wringing a wet towel inside your stomach, as if someone is shoving your head into cold water, you can't breath properly. You try to draw a breath, but end up sounding like a stranded whale. Before it develops into a full-blown panic attack that you can’t handle, you managed to muster the last bit of your sanity and dial that number with trembling fingers.
Jake picks up on the second ring.
“Hi, love. What’s up? ”
Upon hearing his voice, your tears break free. You are sobbing so hard that you have to bite down on your knuckles to keep the volume down. God forbid any busybody out there overhearing sobbing coming out of the washroom. “Ja—Jake—-”You struggled to form a coherent syllable.
“What’s wrong, y/n? Are you hurt?” His voice immediately grows sterner, stripped of of the previous languidness.
To talk under this state feels like squeezing words out of your veins. “Ca—can—you..come p—pick me up? Company—p-party.” You stutter through gritted teeth.
There is some shuffled noise over the phone, a loud bang sounding like he had bumped into something, a silent “fuck” under his breath, then his voice reaches your ears again: “Coming right now, baby, take a deep breath for me.”
You hear the faint beeping of car keys. More shuffled noise. More beeping. That means he has started the car, right? That means he will be here soon, right? You mind is racing and spinning and your lungs are still acting up, only allow silvers of oxygen into your body. You feel like you are watching the world through a distorted filter. A scarier thought jumps into your brain: you whiny puny thing, continue crying and your panic will affect Jake. The roads are slippery now, and it will be all your fault if he ends up in a car accident.
As if being slapped in the face, you manage to suck in a deep breath like a scuba diver resurfacing to the water: “Drive safe please, please Jake, please—I will wait for you.”
Jake makes a sound that is somewhat between a relieved laugh and a resigned sigh. He knows instantly what’s going on in your overthinking brain; you are worried about him. The thoughtfulness must be engraved in y/n’s brain, he thought, always, always putting others in front of herself, even when she’s having a panic attack. And Jake knows you are correct. It is only upon hearing your words that he realizes how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. He recomposes himself, relaxing his shoulder, “Don’t you worry about me, love. I will stay on the phone if that makes you feel better, yeah? Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me.”
“Knock on wood!” You hiss between sobbing, frantically searching for any wooden material around you. Damn it, why is everything so shiny and glassy?
Jake is amazed that he even lets out a short laugh under the circumstances. Yes, his heart aches hearing his girl being a mess over the phone, and he wishes he could grow wings and fly to her side. But meanwhile, he can't help but find you cute like this. He knocks three times on the mini wooden tissue box that he keeps in the middle console.
“Yes, knock on wood. You hear that, doll?”
“Hmm.” You would honestly believe anything now. Hearing Jake’s voice and imagining him coming to you is like brown noise for babies. Your lungs finally decide to have mercy on you, and you can now somehow draw in shallow breaths albeit the pain in your chest.
Jake is relieved as he sees the green lights shining at the last intersection before turning left onto the side road where your company is located. “I’m here. Can you come down by yourself, love? Or do you want me to get you?”
“I can come down.” You say. The thought of him finding you in a messy pile on the bathroom floor makes you wince, even though he’d probably seen worse.
“Okay baby, see you in a second.”
You don’t remember how you collected your coat and pushed your way through the crowded room without many people noticing. The next moment, your sensations are restored, and you find yourself already in Jake’s arms. He's waiting for you in the area between the automatic glass door and the revolving door outside, a place that is warm with air conditioning but won’t attract nosy people. He wraps you in a hug with his wool jacket. His comforting scent fills your nostrils, a powerful pacifier for your naughty lungs. For the first time this evening, you can finally breathe properly like a normal human being. The rush of fresh air makes you release a loud sob like a newborn baby. The relief of seeing him safely standing in front of you and the release of finally being free from the stressful and stuffy environment ushers more tears to stream down your face.
“Shhhh…..you’re okay now, y/n, safe now. I’m here.” His hand wraps protectively around the back of your head as he plants kisses into your hair. “Poor girl, let’s get to the car and go home.”
Home. Home sounds heavenly to your right now. You couldn’t think of a better combination of these four letters in the whole of human history.
On the way back, you curl into a ball on the passenger seat like a battered puppy. Jake holds your hand whenever he gets the chance, his strong calloused fingers gently massaging yours, tracing the patterns on your palm, his thumb brushing the back of your hand, providing warmth. No longer crying, your shoulders occasionally shudder with involuntary sobs that escape you. But other than that, you are falling into a trance. Your gaze concentrated on Jake’s perfect side profile through hooded eyes, watching in awe as the passing streetlights formed patterns of shadow on his graceful nose and cheeks; your mind numb without a single thought.
It is only when Jake wakes you up that you realize you have fallen asleep. The car is already parked in the garage, the familiar and comforting damp smell seeping in.
“We are home now, sleepyhead.” Jake smiles at you, tapping on your wrist to signal you to wait as he gets out of the car and opens your side of the door. Just as you were about to step off, Jake reaches to cradle you by the shoulders and knees, carrying you bridle-style into the house. You hide your face shyly in the crook of his neck, secretly grateful because your feet are indeed sore in those heels.
Jake puts you down by the shoe rack, motioning you to put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as he squats down in front you, holding your ankles and taking off your shoes. If he did see the stains, he didn’t ask any questions, only cooed when he saw the blisters on your heels.
“Let’s go upstairs and get your makeup off, then we’ll cuddle and go to bed, yeah?” Jake stands up, hanging up your coat before cupping your cheeks and placing a kiss on your forehead.
You never hated makeup more than now, regretting to put it on in the first place, now that it has become the annoying barrier lying in your way to bedtime. But Jake says “let’s,” that means he’s going to do it together with you, right?
“Jake?” You whine bashfully.
“Yes, love?”
You tilt up your chin and close your eyes, “One more kissy, please?”
Jake swears he feels a part of his heart melt right there. Who is he to deny you?
“Of course, as many as my princess would like.”
Stepping into the bathroom, Jake sits you on the closed toilet seat. He opens the drawer, grabs your makeup remover and some cotton pads. He applies some liquid onto the wipes and lifts up your chin.
“Close your eyes for me, love.” The cool liquid on your eyelids makes your eyebrows twitch, causing Jake to chuckle, “I know, I know. Just a little longer.”
You sit quietly, mesmerized and hypnotized under his touch. His movements are almost rhythmic. Is this how cats feel when their owners scratches behind their ears? You fear that if you make a sound, you will actually let out a purr.
Jake continues until most of your makeup is gone. “Hold out your hands,” you hear him say and complied. Two dollops of foamy liquid landed in the centre of your palm, and you opened your eyes to recognize they are your face wash. Jake tugs on your wrist, leading you to stand in front of the sink.
“Can you wash your pretty face now, darling? Wash up, and I’ll be back in a minute.”
You nodded, feeling lighter and more relaxed now without your makeup and even more content when you turn on the tap and find out that Jake has already tuned it to a lukewarm temperature for you.
When Jake returned, he was calling you from the bedroom. You have already brushed your teeth and let down your hair.
You walked into the bedroom and are welcomed by the scent of bergamot and sandalwood from your favourite candle glowing on the night stand. Jake was pulling an old T-shirt out from the closet. It was the vintage Joan Jett and The Blackhearts shirt, the patterns half faded, and materials worn-out soft. You saw him laying out one of his boxers for you too. He knows you always prefer them to your own underwear as pyjamas.
“Come sit, angel.” He patted the bench at the foot of the bed, him sitting across from it on a small stool.
It is only when you walked close that you saw the wooden foot spa basin, with clouds of steam rising from it. As you sat down, he gently took your ankle and balanced your feet on the edge of the basin, so that the hot water is steaming your sole.
“It’s still a bit hot.” He looks up to you. “I put Epsom salt and eucalyptus oil in it.”
“Where did you get this?” You feel like the heat from the bottom of the feet is slowly being absorbed into your veins and rising up to your cheeks. You wiggle your toes nervously.
Jake lets out a giggle, “Well, mum suggested once to Josh about the foot spa thing, said it helps with stress and tense muscles. You know, with him running barefoot on stage and all.” He reaches down to sprinkle some water onto your feet, letting you adjust to the temperature. “But Josh got the fancy electric ones. I thought this is better. More authentic, don’t you think?”
“Uh-hmm.”
“Your nails are all chipped,” Jake looks down, “maybe tomorrow we can repaint them? I saw you bought a new colour the other day.”
Tender. So tender. From his tone to his caramel brown eyes. The light from the lamp illuminates the left side of his face, giving it a solemn, smooth glow like a wax statue. Your heart swells; love makes it rise like Soufflé in the oven. The soft surface rises up until it touches your ribcage, threatening to spill those tears again.
“Thank you, Jake.” You dare not raise your voice, fearing that it will break, “I just got a bit overwhelmed at the party, is all.”
Jake eases your feet slowly into the water now that it’s the perfect temperature. The slight sling of your blisters is soon overwhelmed by the all-encompassing warmth that rises all the way to your ankle.
After a few heart beats, he speaks again. “You’ll always have me, y/n. You are allowed to fall, to break. I will be here to catch you, to piece you together. Whatever you need.”
Finally you were snuggled together in bed. You, a human koala, cling to Jake with your face pressed against his chest. His arm snakes around your shoulder, fingers mindlessly tracing your collarbone, strumming some unknown patterns. His heartbeat thumping in your ear, the perfect lullaby. The steady rise and fall of his chest is like waves, rocking you into a sweet slumber. Your eyelids feel heavy like velvet drapes. There’s still a stubborn voice in your brain keeping you from falling asleep. There’s still one more thing you need to do, even though you understood each other perfectly.
“Jake?” Your voice low like a murmur. Jake almost didn’t hear you at first.
“What is it, babe?”
“I love you.” Those words come out as a slur, and like a magic spell, you fall into the deep embrace of sleep as soon as the last syllable leaves your lips. Now clear of any stress and worries in the arms of your lover, the strained string in you brain that has been holding on for dear life the whole evening finally snaps. You’re out like a light.
“I love you back, y/n, through and through.” He whispers into your dream.
You woke up to an empty bed, the sheet on his side still has the human-shaped imprint. Jake is a night owl; it is pretty common that he just gets up in the middle of the night and ends up doing some random things around the house. Most often it’s him strumming the guitar and experimenting with his ideas for new tunes in the home studio downstairs. But you have also caught him fixing chipped paint on the walls, repotting the succulents in the garage, and pouring broth into the crockpot with chicken thighs and smoked ham hock (“so we could have warm chicken chili in the morning!”; to be honest, it’s indeed delicious; you had two bowls and had to skip lunch that day). Just to name a few, so the possibilities are endless.
You get out of bed, creep cross the corridor and tiptoe your way down the stairs. The lights at the doorway are on; you thought Jake forgot to turn them off. However, as you approach, you see Jake squatting down next to the shoe rack, his back towards you, and a brush and some spray bottles laying nearby.
You move closer and see him holding the clothes steamer near your wine-stained shoes. The heels you wore have a suede tip in the front, and unfortunately, that’s where the wine was mostly spilt on. After a few moments, Jake uses the wire brush to clean the surface. He stops from time to time, holding it further to inspect the result.
You waited until he stops again to make some sounds, announcing your presence. Jake immediately turns around. His eyes softens upon seeing you.
“What are you doing up?”
You go to squat down next to him, kissing his temple before resting your head on his shoulder.
“You just bought these not so long ago, yeah? It’d be a shame to leave them stained.” Jake lets more steam soak into the fabric before brushing them again. “I’m almost done. I saw this trick online, and it looks pretty legit.” It’s only then that you noticed his phone on the side, the screen showing the replies from some Reddit post.
“Thank you, baby.” You rub your cheeks slightly on his T-shirt; the feeling of warm pastry once again fills your heart.
“No worries, doll. I think it’s good for now. Let’s leave them here and check in the morning.” Jake starts putting away his tools before pulling you up and wrapping his arm around your waist, leading you back upstairs.
On your way, something familiar catches your eye. You must’ve missed it earlier.
“Wait, where did you get that?” You stop, pointing at what happens to be a whole case of your favourite snack lying on the kitchen counter.
“Oh, I saw the stores are out of them, so I ordered them online. They just arrived today.” Jake scratches his head, his tone tainted with slight disappointment.“I thought they’d be a nice surprise as stocking stuffers, but…”
You stopped him mid-sentence with a kiss.
“I love you.” This time you said it clear against his lips.
“Oh doll, I love you back,” he smiles, showing the cutest wrinkle on his nose. His hands brush your shoulder as you resume your steps upstairs. “Let’s get a few more hours of sleep now. And when you wake up, you will wake up to some yummy pancakes and a pair of stain-free shoes, huh? How does that sound?”
Oh Lord, that sounds heavenly. That sounds just like home.
“I’d like that, Jake. I’d like that very, very much.”
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Thank you for reading :) any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated
(The stain-removing tips comes from malccy72 on reddit :D
If you also feel like reading a smutty (but also fluffy?) piece🤭: Mariner's Complex || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones
or some Christmas fluff: Ticked (all my boxes)
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kirarifutari · 2 years ago
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enhypen as fast food workers (enhypen ot7.)
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GENRE .. !? enhypen ot7 headcanons i guess... pureee crack, comedy
WARNINGS .. !? not proof read, swearing, for shits and giggles don't take anything to heart lol
WC ..?! approx 852
NOTES.. ?! okay pls blame @dazed-hee for putting this thought into my head and helping me w this... i cannot believe i sat my ass down and wrote this,, yes i just got off work ... anyway i hope u enjoy this goofy little piece pls like + reblog to support!!
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heeseung
actually does his job properly LOLLL
he's so good at it asw he is never ever stressed 😭😭 he never complains either he just gets shit done ?? like you'll be on shift w him and magically you don't have to do anything ever bc somehow he has it under control…?
all the customers love him asw LMAO he's the type to remember regulars 🙏
god sent everyone needs a heeseung to work with, he's even nice to the rude customers but is not afraid to be a little passive aggressive bitch 🤧
he never talks badly about anyone so no one ever shit talks him?? but if you ask him ab drama he'd be like “not naming any names but…” 😭
jay
he is exactly like heeseung except when is jay ever NOT stressed
he is internally crying every five seconds over something and every time a customer complains about something you can see the light in his eyes die little by little 💀💀
he doesn't even care what anyone else is doing he's just so caught up in doing his job he doesn't realise that he's doing everything himself…  more utc!
if you catch him on a good day tho you can hear him make fun of customer orders 😭 “who the fuck orders 3 hamburgers past the age of three years old…”
let's you do whatever you want bc hes too busy dealing w the emerging grey hairs 🙏
jake
the best person to work your shift w for a good time hands downnn
he's so funny he will make you cackle every five seconds,, you'll be taking a drive thru order and you'd be trying so fucking hard not to laugh into the mic 😭 he will fr start SINGING in ur ear goodbye
super friendly w customers and will literally start a conversation ab the most random things ?? “bro did you just order this family box?? you eating that yourself? that's crazy, mad respect” 💀
dawg does everything all at once, making burgers, taking orders, handing out food, changing the bins ??? yet somehow he's the one goofing off the most ? 
sunghoon
doesn't know how he landed the job tbh… everyone expected him to be unemployed the rest of his life 🔥
HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO COUNT CHANGE W CASH 😭 bro tries his hardest but is always fumbling around fr,, our maths legend
the type to be like “hm? i can't hear you” “what did you say? “yeah just gimme a minute” he is TOO CHILL he's so unserious ab this job he clocks on and does nothing half the time 🙏 he'll say he'll do what you ask him too but... you both know he won't xoxox
somehow he's still one of the managers favourites and gets good shifts every week… 
if a customer yells at him he'd be like “yeah give me a second” and then just gets someone else to deal with it LMFAO 💀
sunoo
THE BIGGEST SHIT TALKER having a shift w him is so good, he somehow knows everything that's going on w everyone ??? fills you in w all the gossip fr.
he's rly bubbly w all the nice customers and is one of the nicer employees to work with but if ur on his bad side … 💀💀💀
like if you annoy him as a customer he will hand you order wordlessly and look you up and down HE DOESNT CAREEE BROOO 😭
if anyone ever blames him for doing something wrong on shift he literally will just be like “that wasn't me tho 😄😄” biggest liar and everyone knows it but no one cares cus we all love him 🫶
sunoo will definitely be the type to buy you food on his break or give you free stuff when you clock off 😭
jungwon
would be the biggest gas lighter LMFAO
“oh you ordered a double big mac and not a regular? yeah on our register it's gone through as regular so i don't know what you want me to do, you can pay for another one tho!” 💀💀💀💀
bro gives so much sass to rude customers he does NOT gaf, he does it all w a smile on his face too like “sorry about that but we can't do anything to fix it 😊” 
he’d be so chill w his co workers asw, he would really care if everyone's messing around but somehow w him on shift everything goes oddly smoothly… 
working w him is so fucking funny cus he will never take no for an answer w a customer he will keep pushing until they LEAVE 😭
niki
LMFAOOO okay this kid fucking hates his job LOL
will spit in a customers drink because he can 🙏 he will not take shit from anyone and he knows no one will fire him bc they're understaffed 😚
plays the best music and always has kitchen speaker aux !!!
if you ask him to remake a burger or help you with something he'll either give you a blank stare or a “no, i won't.” and then do it for you anyway 👊👊 he is such a little menace but he doesn't care 
w annoying ass customers he will literally start arguing w them STOP
would go viral on tiktok cus some customer was filming him being rude but everyone would be siding w him bc niki is always in the right godbless.
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bagopucks · 2 years ago
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J. Hughes - It’s Out There
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✄————————————
Jack Hughes x Reader
Requested✨
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: a bit of ass grabbing💕, talk of ED, general angst (not proofread)
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The horror stories weren’t exactly true, but they also weren’t far off. College is what one makes of it. That I learned early on. I kept up with the work, I built a steady routine, I put forth my best effort. Things so far had been fine. I had enough time for my major and my life.
Taylor on the other hand.. she wanted to party. I loved her. I truly did, but sometimes her complaining stressed me out. We were roommates, and I always offered my best advice and a helping hand when she needed it. But she never put forth her own effort. Jack often heard about her when I needed time to complain.
Today though, I had gotten her to sit down with me and study. I promised breaks here and there, and even a late dinner. We’d both missed out on lunch for finals, neither of us were exactly hungry considering the stress. We were in need of food. But more importantly, we were in need of better help.
I managed well with our other classes we had together. I let her copy my notes and we discussed and reviewed, but when it came to math, we were both scattered.
So we decided to take a brief break.
I leaned back against the wall, sitting on my bed, while Taylor mirrored me from her own bed. I texted Jack, while she no doubt scrolled through social media.
I enjoyed the silence. Not interrupted or broken by anything but the quiet flow of air through the AC in the room. Occasionally Taylor would send me something on Instagram, and our silence shifted into both of us scrolling through our social media apps and sending each other things.
I sent her a video of a French bulldog, I received a post in return that I couldn’t quite make out from the small notification. So I opened it.
“Jack Hughes Finally Off The Market?”
It wasn’t anything more than one of those meme pages, but the photo of Jack and I kissing at his favorite cafe in the city- that was what caught me off guard. I felt my stomach turn, my entire being feeling like it fell through the floor.
It had been pitch black that night. Nobody had even been on that street when we came out. How did somebody get a photo?
“Tay,” I glanced at the likes. There were enough to make me nauseous. I decided to check the comments, hopeful that perhaps somebody would point out how it was a joke. I knew that was unlikely though.
“Where’d you find this?” Fear gripped my heart as I read through comments.
‘Can’t see her face :|’
‘Great content bud’
‘Fuck her’
‘Don’t worry guys, it’s me’
‘Hands couldn’t even fit around that ass’
‘I’ll bet she’s pretty’
A different degree of reactions all around. My gaze remained on some longer than others.
“Just on Instagram. Since you started dating Jack I just.. I don’t know, guess I started keeping up with the hockey stuff.”
Taylor looked up at me, and I looked up at her. I was pale, she looked careless.
“Hun.. I wouldn’t worry. It’s a meme page. Nobody takes their stuff seriously.”
Taylor had a point, but at the end of the day.. that was still a photo of me and Jack. Whether people believed it or not, to me, that was very clearly, me and Jack.
“Why don’t we skip the next break and get back to studying.. okay?”
I was reluctant to agree, but Taylor eventually pried my attention away from my phone. Or at least she thought she did.
The rest of our night was spent studying. We had gone out to grab something to eat from the nearest fast food place, and ate together watching the hockey team of my hometown city play. The Devils didn’t have a game scheduled for a few days, so I took it as an opportunity to check up on my other team of interest.
After the hockey game, we had both called it a night. With the lights out, and the only sound being the occasional thump of footsteps or somebody in a room around us, my mind wandered. It wandered to the point that I had grabbed my phone again to check for any news.
Nothing.
The internet still seemed oblivious.
I went back to the post to look at it. There were more comments and likes, but nobody had considered it a real possibility yet.
I spent hours awake, staring at the screen, turning it off only to give in and turn it back on, waiting for my entire world to crumble around me.
I fell asleep somewhere around four am.
When I woke up, I forced myself away from my phone to focus on my last final. I told Jack that I would visit him after it was completed and I was off for spring break. I had that to look forward to, but every time I thought of Jack, I thought of that post. So I pushed it to the back of my mind as I entered my professor’s classroom and set my phone by others on the front desk.
I’d attest to the fact that my mind wandered a few times, but I would also say I thought the exam went well. Taylor promised to meet me in the mess hall when we were both done.
I stepped out of the classroom and flipped my phone in my hand. With spring break beginning officially for me, I only had one other thing to stress about.
Opening my Instagram was like stepping into a whole new world. I followed the Devils, the NHL page, ESPN, and a few others. Mostly just for news on Jack when it came out. But this time, the news about Jack made me sick.
I slowed to a halt in the hallway, before my body went into autopilot.
The first post in front of me was the New Jersey Devil holding a bottle of champagne in a photo. The caption was a mess of words in my head. A congratulations.. with my account tagged.
I forced myself to lower my phone as I jogged through the halls and out the first exit I found.
When I got outside, my pace slowed, and I lifted my phone again.
I opened the Devils story first. Another congratulations post to Jack.. and me. My name. Next to Jack’s. Something the media team was no doubt doing to try and poke fun at the situation. It was all in good fun for them. I could understand, but at the same time it made me want to throw up. They hadn’t even spoken to Jack or me. They didn’t even ask if we wanted to remain private. Instead they simply confirmed everything. As the story played through, the next one for the NHL opened. It was a repost, with a message that said, ‘welcome to the NHL WAGS FAM.’ With my account tagged.
I could not imagine the page doing it for another player, but this was Jack Hughes. This was one of their most followed guys in the league. They’d cover every moment of his life if it meant more money and a bigger following.
ESPN had a more formal address on the topic, but it was still about Jack and I nonetheless.
I blacked out. I blacked out so hard that I barely even noticed I was in my dorm until I heard the door click shut behind me. Panic was the only thing I had really felt before. Until I looked at the posts. The posts, then the comments.
There were a select few who congratulated, but the majority? The huge crowds? They hated me. It made a sense of dread bubble up in my throat, until a quiet cry escaped. Girls insulted me in every photo posted, guys asked why Jack went after me, some even said I was nothing but a distraction. People made fun of me for being a secret, they tore me down for not setting my life aside to follow him and his hockey dreams.
How did they even know about my life so quickly? How did they know where I went to college?
I made a split second decision. I grabbed a duffel bag from my closet and began to throw clothing inside. I was certain that I had forgotten things along the way, but there was nothing a quick visit to the convenience store couldn’t fix. I put my laptop in the bag, as well as various chargers I hadn’t bothered to ravel up.
I was panicked, and the one person I wanted to see was an hour away. Taylor called me a few times while my phone laid on my bed, but I hadn’t called her back until I was out of my dorm room and headed for the car.
“Hey! We were supposed to meet up.” Taylor’s voice called through the phone. I sniffed quietly. I hadn’t begun crying yet, but my nose was running nonetheless.
“I have to go into New Jersey early.” I spoke through a shaky voice. I tossed my bag into the back seat of my car before climbing into the front. I was quick to turn the vehicle on, and Taylor’s voice cut out as my phone Bluetooth connected to the car.
“Is it bec- of that post?”
“Jack and I are out. All of the sports media has confirmed it. Tay, I don’t know what to do.” I backed out of my spot before I tore out of the parking lot.
“It’s gonna be okay. I’m sure Jack will have it handled.”
“Jack?” I asked. Incredulous. “I love Jack, but I highly doubt he’ll have any of this shit handled.” He’d never been through it before. We were both amateurs at this, and now we were sinking together. I needed him. I assumed he needed me.
“Okay well.. I’m sure everybody’s happy for you guys.. yeah?”
“No! No, they’re not! They keep commenting on how shitty I am! And in that post last night, everybody was all over my ass! My ass!” My loss and hopelessness caused me to get choked up.
I’d always had a rough relationship with food ever since I was a teenager. People told me I was too skinny or too big. People told me that being insecure because I was skinny didn’t count. They invalidated my feelings while at the same time telling me my ass wasn’t big enough, or my cup size was awfully small. Then others would come back and say my ass was too big or my boobs might be distracting.
Depending on the comments, some days I ate, others I did not.
When I met Jack, I was healthier than before, but I still struggled. He always reassured me. Told me I was beautiful. That he loved me, thought I was perfect, and that gaining or losing a couple pounds meant nothing as long as I was healthy.
He made me feel safe eating huge greasy burgers and shoveling cake into my mouth on a Friday movie night. Likewise, he validated my feelings when all I wanted was a chicken salad and maybe a piece of bread or two. He always said, ‘as long as you’re healthy.’ And every once in a while he made sure I wasn’t hungry either. Especially after I ate salads. After he’d seen me put away pretty nice sized meals, he always made sure I had enough to eat. And that I was comfort able enough to eat.
It was amazing how a few social media comments could tear down so many walls I’d built, but it was deeper than that to me. These were Jack’s fans. If they didn’t like me, then why should he? Had he been lying to me all this time?
“Your beautiful ass?” Taylor tried to make a joke. A tear finally fell down my cheek.
“What if Jack hates me?” My bottom lip quivered. “He hasn’t reached out.. what if he’s breaking up with me?” The mere thought made me want to pull over and turn around.
“What is he doing today?” Taylor asked expectantly. I had to think about it.
“Media stuff?” The thought brought a moment of relief to my lungs.
“Exactly. You’ve had days before where he doesn’t text until late in the evening and it’s never bothered you.” Taylor’s voice gave me the encouragement to continue on.
“I know this didn’t happen in time like you guys planned it, but it’s all going to be fine. The crazy fan girls will always be mean, but people are going to get over it.”
“Yeah.. but what if they hate me forever?”
“They might. But oh well, right?”
Taylor was right. But that still didn’t make me feel any better. I gripped the steering wheel tighter.
“When does Jack get home?”
“I think.. I don’t know? Maybe around three?” I breathed out a sigh.
“So you’ll be there before him?”
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t you go see him at the arena?”
“And bother him? After all this?”
“If it’s a media day, you know he won’t be that busy. And it’s better than torturing yourself at his place for hours.”
She was right.
“I’ll have to think about it..”
“Don’t think too much.”
As if I hadn’t been overthinking everything that day already. Our conversation ended with mutual good lucks, and the familiar monotone beep of a dead line. I sighed, wiped the tears from my cheeks, and focused on the road ahead.
My hour in the car was spent flipping through radio stations, trying to find music that was loud enough to distract me or soft enough to calm me. Nothing worked. My jaw was clenched most if not the entire time. My face hurt. My cheeks hurt. My fingers felt stiff every time I pulled a hand from the wheel.
And entering Jersey didn’t help. It felt like a smack upside the head. A loud call back to my horrible reality. I felt like everybody outside the car was staring in. Everybody knew who I was. Everybody hated me. They were all looking at my body.
By the time I had pulled into Jack’s own apartment community, I felt like I was suffocating trying to choke back tears. I parked in the lot outside of his complex. I gave it five minutes. Then another five. Then another five.
I grabbed my phone and opened TikTok this time. I typed Jack’s name into the search and hit enter. The first video eased my mind. Somebody saying how beautiful I was.. how happy they were for Jack.
The next broke my heart. Comparing me to the first girl. To the hot girl. The skinny girl. The perfect girl. I’d seen videos here and there before of people saying how they thought Jack and his ex had been such a beautiful couple. People said they ‘missed’ her. Like they ‘knew’ her. I never let it cut too deep, because they didn’t know I existed.
Now it was blatant. Now they said things like that, because she was better than me.
I put my car in reverse.
Taylor was right. I’d torture myself if I didn’t see Jack.
Closing the distance between myself and the arena was like beating a new nail into my coffin with each mile. It only stressed me out more. But I hoped Jack would take it all off my shoulders. If he had time.
The thought that he’d be too busy also occurred to me, but even being in the same building as him, I decided, would be soothing.
I had pulled into the private parking area before climbing out of my car. My face was red, but I had since stopped the tears. My heart was set on Jack. Nothing else could distract me.
I walked through the double doors at the bottom, stepping right into one of the many entrances. I was quick to find the hall that led to the private facilities. I walked past maintenance closets, and equipment rooms, before my swift pace was brought to an abrupt halt by a body stepping out of the lounge.
I gasped. He grabbed me by the shoulders. When I looked up, my eyes caught Jesper. His gaze softened from surprise to sympathy. We stared at each other, both uncertain of what to say. He spoke first.
“Jack was worried when you didn’t text him that your final was over.” He spoke, as if having an ‘A-ha’ moment. He let me go. I reached to rub my eyes again, fearful that something was still there.
“He didn’t text me all day.” I countered.
“Well.. he didn’t want to distract you. They won’t stop asking him about you.” My brow furrowed in question.
“He’s in with reporters right now.” Jesper gestured down the hall. I assumed he meant Jack was in the locker room. “They won’t let you go.” Tears welled up in my eyes again.
“We can wait for him together?” I nodded.
Jesper walked me into the lounge and grabbed me a bottle of water.
“I was shocked when it came out.. I know you and Jack were trying really hard not to be public.” Jesper sat down on the couch, and patted the empty cushion next to him. I sat beside him as he handed me the bottle of water.
“I shouldn’t have kissed him that night we went out.” I breathed out, shaking my head. I unscrewed the bottle cap and took a sip of the liquid. It helped refresh my dry throat.
“Can’t limit your happiness to closed doors.” Jesper had a point, but if I had limited my happiness to closed doors, I wouldn’t be miserable right now.
“Bratter?” My head shot in the direction of the door at the sound of a Swiss accent. I raised a brow at Nico in the doorway, dressed in a sweater covered in a colorful floral pattern. Nico looked right back at me, staring me down with that, ‘stays between us’ kind of expression.
“What the hell are they making you do in there?” Jesper asked, slinging an arm over the back of the couch.
“Some spring skit.. I don’t know. I acted really bad so they wouldn’t use me for it.” Nico quickly peeled the sweater off. “Your turn.” He stepped into the room and tossed the sweater at Jesper.
The blonde looked rather displeased, but he swiftly grabbed the sweater and stood up.
“You sit with her and wait for Jack then.. okay?” Nico and Jesper exchanged looks before the Swiss man nodded, then the Swede left the room.
“So,” Nico turned back to me. He fixed his hair, pursing his lips. “Jack’s pretty tense.” He plopped down on the couch next to me, my body jolting slightly at the way the sofa bounced. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit, Nico.” I glared at him. He was trying his best.
“Right… everything’ll iron out.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “You wanna play chess while we wait?” I glared at him once again. How could a man so thoughtful like Nico be so… lost when it came to this stuff? Because he’s been single for far too long. Jack always tried setting him up, but Nico was never interested. Said there were too many cultural differences.
“I have air hockey on here too.” He gave me that dumb lopsided smile. That smile that I always rolled my eyes at. Now I just wanted to wipe it off his face and tell him he was no help. But I gave in. I needed a distraction. I pulled my legs up onto the couch and turned my body to face Nico. He opened the game and set his phone down between us.
He started the game. I was better than him at it.
“People being mean to you?”
“You have no idea.”
“I checked some of the comments on the Devils post.” I glanced up at him before looking back down at the phone.
“It’s not good.” I shrugged.
“People make fun of my eyebrows sometimes.” I looked back up at him. Nico looked sincere, yet his eyes were still focused on the phone. I had to look back down. If he scored, it would only interrupt the flow of our conversation.
“Kids used to do it a lot in school. I used to ask my sister to fix them for me.” Somehow, the idea of a tiny Nico asking to have his brows waxed was amusing, but I held in my laughter for the sake of his ego. “Kids called me angry birds. I didn’t know what it meant for the longest time. But I knew I just hated my eyebrows.”
I wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but it felt great to be understood nonetheless.
“Now everybody’s calling you a bunch of things, and I know it’s hard. But I’d suggest listening to what the people who love you say. They know better than anybody else.”
I scored on Nico. We both looked up at each other, and I offered him a sad smile.
“Means the world to hear, Nic. Sorry for calling you the Eagle from the muppets.”
His brows knit together in confusion. But I didn’t have time to explain the subtle joke before we both heard quiet complaining in the hall. Jack’s ever gentle voice laced with tension and stress. Maybe even shaking.
“Where’s Nico?”
“God- I just wanna talk to Nico!”
I quickly stood up and took the bottle of water with me as I stepped out into the hall. Jack was gone. My gaze flickered about until he emerged from a room, he must have been on a pretty aggressive hunt for his captain. Jack stopped though when he spotted me. The emotions returned. He looked as stressed as I’d felt before. Now I only felt overwhelmed and sad.
“Babe?” Jack slowly made his way down the hall to meet me by the lounge door. He was gentle when he pulled me into a hug, dipping his head to rest against my shoulder while I wrapped my arms around his neck, careful not to spill my water.
“It’s all gone to shit.” I whispered.
“I’m so sorry..” Jack mumbled in response. Neither of us could have been prepared for this. And it wasn’t either of our faults.
“Jack don’t apologize.” I pulled back, feeling the familiar sting of tears in my eyes.
“I’m done for the day.. I got done early. Let’s just go home.. please.” He sounded as desperate to get out of there as I was to get to him. I nodded.
——————
Jack drove us back to his apartment. I didn’t care enough about my car to be away from him for too long, but I had grabbed my bag. He let me inside before himself, but we never left each other’s eyesight. The second Jack pushed the door shut, his arms were around me. I reached a hand up to hold the back of his head, my other hand resting overtop of his own that lay on my stomach.
“They asked me so many things about you.” Jack mumbled.
“Jack.. baby.. you don’t think..” was now even the time to bring it up? I sighed. “I’m not too big for you.. am I? Or too small? Or too anything?”
Jack pressed a kiss to my shoulder.
“You’re just right. You always have been. Always will be.” He slowly pulled away to walk around in front of me. “Are they saying stuff about your body?” He looked so disgusted by the fact, but Jack was more worldly innocent than one might assume. He never wanted to expect the worst from others.
“I guess so..” I shrugged, rubbing one of my arms. My body language said enough. He could always tell when I was uncomfortable.
“You shouldn’t look.” Jack reached out to rest his hands on my upper arms.
“I know that, Jack. I just- I guess I just wanted them to like me.” I looked down.
“Hey, hey.” Jack moved one of his hands to rest his fingers beneath my chin, tilting my head up. “They will. They’re gonna love you.” His brow furrowed as his eyes searched for my own. But I still couldn’t be bothered to make eye contact. “Babe.. babe look at me.” He wasn’t demanding. He was gentle. Encouraging. He was always so kind to me. Even his behavior in this moment brought tears to my eyes. I looked at him though, and I watched his heart break in slow motion. I watched his eyes grow solemn.
“It’ll just take time. Just give it time.” Jack pulled me into another hug, his arms wrapped tightly around my body as one hand laid between my shoulder blades and the other pressed into the small of my back. I buried my face in his chest. I wanted nothing more than to go back to the day before, when nobody knew about me. When I was just me.. just a university student.
“Jack,” I whispered into his chest. I slowly lifted my head. He looked down at me. His expression showed nothing but devotion. He was ready to pull the stars from the sky if I said the word. “We’ll be with each other through this.. right?”
“Stay with me through spring break…” the offer was a surprise, but one I wasn’t opposed to. We both needed each other, and time away from my college campus was never a bad thing.
“I think I can do that.” I sniffled as I slipped my hands between our bodies, resting them on his chest. Being in his arms was the most comforting thing in the world. Going through this whole ordeal seemed a lot less stressful when I knew it would be spent with him.
“I love you.” Jack whispered, a grin forming on his lips as his hands wandered to my hips, only to eventually find my backside. I jumped at the feeling. “I want you to love yourself too. Please don’t let people convince you you’re not perfect.” Jack’s words were easier said than done.
“I wish you’d just see yourself the way I saw you.. god you’re such an Angel to me.” He pressed a kiss to my head. My heart fluttered as my temperature rose. “They’ll see you that way one day too.” Those promises were debatable, but believing them made me relax. Maybe if I just lived in Jack’s world for a little while.. his positive reality, it would be better in the long run.
Despite the fact that we still had hours left in the day, neither of us seemed too interested in going anywhere or doing anything. Jack and I ended up in bed together. We both had the bare minimum on.. bodies mark-less but heads full of love. I could still feel Jack’s lips pressed against each of my insecurities, and his hands massaging circles into my muscles. Likewise I swore I could still feel his skin beneath my hands. His silky hair between my fingers. Every dip and curve of his muscles committed to memory.
Jack kept me away from my phone in the most effective way.
Moments ago, lips had trailed my shoulders and my arms, down my chest and around my stomach and sides. He’d put the work in on my thighs too, so gentle and sweet. He never left a mark. It wasn’t that kind of night. His kisses were passionate, but not lustful. He was so full of love.. so heartfelt in each of his movements. Jack was one of a kind.
I laid, curled into his side, my head resting in the space between his arm and his chest, just beneath his shoulder.
“Ya know.. I saw a girl today say she missed your ex.” I spoke quietly, afraid to disturb the peace. But it was on my mind nonetheless.
Jack tensed. He shuffled, then picked his head up to look down at me.
“I don’t.” He scoffed. “She was horrible.”
I turned my head to look at him, but Jack rested his head against the pillow again before I could see his eyes.
“What was she like?”
“Nothing like you. She came around at a busy time.. right after the draft. I was too distracted to really pay attention to all the red flags. She was mean.”
“Does it bother you when people say they miss her?”
“It would if there was something to miss.” Jack moved his shoulders to shrug before halting when he realized my head was there. “It would be a different story If it was you.”
“What?”
“If it was you.. I’d miss you too. I was so worried you’d back out when you saw everything today. I didn’t want to lose you.. but by the time I could speak to anybody, our whole social team just put it out there.” Jack slowly turned onto his side, my head fell to the bed. He wrapped his arm around me and I quickly turned to mirror him.
“I would never leave over something like this. You mean too much to me.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page then.” The sound of my phone ringing from the floor had me slowly turning to get up, but I only got my back turned to Jack before he pulled me against his chest. I yelped out a laugh.
“Jack.” I reached to pry his hand from my stomach.
“No phones.. please?” I sighed. The chances of somebody actually needing me were slim, so I let the call go unanswered.
“Alright. You win baby.” I carefully rolled over, pulling his hand from my body and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Jack smiled. He loved a lot of things, but being pampered was one of his favorites. I pressed another kiss to the back of his hand, then one to his wrist, before playfully biting and kissing all the way up his arm. Kissing him everywhere just like he’d done to me before. Jack broke into a fit of giggles by the time I reached his forearm. After I got to his shoulder, I raised my lips to his own, pressing a much deeper kiss there to silence him.
When I pulled away, Jack’s baby blues eyed me. I kissed his jaw. “God.. they’re gonna love you so much.” He whispered, shaking his head. Astounded.
“They just don’t know you yet.. but they will.”
“As long as they don’t love me more than you do.”
“Nobody can love you more than I do.”
✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾
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smoochkooks · 1 year ago
Text
—chapter nineteen: illicit affairs
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this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.
pairing: jeon jungkook/reader genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, smut word count: 1.6k words summary: it dies a million little times...
previous || next
Five months later
There is a park nearby your apartment, sandwiched between the residential buildings. It has been here way before some chaebol had decided to buy this land and transform it to yet another wealthy neighborhood in downtown Gangnam. It looks almost surreal – tracts of green among concrete. There’s not many people here today. It feels like a scene from a movie: remote, run-down bench by the pond standing directly underneath the only magnolia tree in the park, and the girl sitting on it with an unreadable expression. What's going through her mind? What, or who, is she thinking about? She's clutching the phone in her hand in a death grip – the only sign she's feeling any emotion right now. Nightingale sings somewhere in the far distance, the sound breaking the deafening silence. Then, a phone rings. Once, twice, three times. 
You pick up.  
“I told her.” Jungkook waits a beat and then adds, “She wants to speak with you, in private.” 
You wonder if he can make out your ragged breath through the speaker. It's the only thing you can hear now, as if the whole world has gone quiet just to listen to your conversation.
“I gave her your number. Is that okay?” 
It was all your design to come clean, to free your conscience from the burden that's weighing you both down day by day. You agreed to do this, but he still makes sure if you're ready. A single magnolia petal lands on your thigh. You stare at it, transfixed. He calls your name. So softly, so gently and you break a little. 
“Okay.”
The line cuts off. No one says goodbye. 
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Soojin contacted you soon after that. She sent you a message, asking whether you would have time to meet with her on Friday. She had chosen a coffee shop in SNU’s neighborhood where she had met Jungkook all those years ago. When you googled later the address you found out it's one of those places designed to serve both as a coffee shop and bookshop. How ironic. There's no doubt your book will be sitting on the bestseller shelf, mocking you as your best friend's wife is confronting you. 
You arrive almost fifteen minutes earlier. Your heart is beating so fast it's borderline painful, your entire body trembling from anxiety. You don't know exactly how much did Jungkook tell Soojin, so have no idea what to expect from her, which makes you even more uneasy. She has the upper hand here. You notice a stack of ‘An Ode To A Broken Heart’ copies laying on one of the tables and avert your eyes somewhere else.
You try to pass the time by swiping through social media but it's too hard to focus. You keep re-reading sentences because you can't make out what they mean. You've never been good with handling stressful situations, ever since you were a child. You envied kids who didn't worry about tests and exams. Growing older, you managed to control your nerves a little, once you realized you couldn't possibly continue living like this forever. In high school your parents took you to a therapist and that, along with anxiety medication, helped you survive finals and college. However, today you can't help but feel like the girl who couldn't sleep before a math test all over again.
Soojin enters the coffee shop on time. She looks flawlessly, just like during her wedding day. Her silky, black hair is styled in pretty curls and she's wearing light make-up accentuating her features. She’s dressed in a formal attire, a white button-down blouse and beige pants, so she’s probably here on her lunch break. Not much time for a private conversation it is, then.
She orders her coffee to go and looks around. She smiles when she spots you but you can easily tell it’s not sincere, more of a courteous manner. “Hi,” she says and takes a seat in front of you. “Have you ordered something yet? They have amazing lemon tarts here.”
“I’m fine with just coffee.”
“I’d love to eat something sweet but I’m currently trying to cut down on sugar, so just coffee for me, too.”
You nod, not knowing how to respond to what she said. It has always been hard for you to talk to her, ever since Jungkook had introduced you two together. She doesn’t really speak down to you but she carries herself with such superiority it’s making you feel self-conscious.
Soojin was born into an upper-middle-class family from Seoul. Her father owns a prospering business, so they’ve never really had to worry about money, as far as you recall what Jungkook had once told you. She used to attend ballet classes but dropped out of dancing school before entering university. That’s probably where her poise comes from. Thinking about it makes you straighten your slouching pose.
“Are you working around here?” you ask, trying to ease yourself into the conversation. She hasn’t moved straight to the point yet, so you’re panicking a little.
“Yeah, the company I work for has office nearby.” Soojin answers courtly. She takes a sip of her coffee and in a flash, the polite tilt of her mouth vanishes. “You know I’m not here to chit-chat with you, though.”
There it is.
“I’m aware.”
“What did Jungkook exactly tell you?”
“That you want to talk.”
Soojin raises a brow. “That’s all?”
“I’m assuming he didn’t want to intervene,” you say. “He only told me you know about the book.”
Or was it the only thing he meant? Did he perhaps tell her about the New Year’s Eve kiss as well?
“Weird situation, isn’t it?” she asks. “I just found out that the book I liked so much is actually about my husband and his childhood best friend. I sympathized with someone who’s been in love with him for twenty years. Can you believe it?”
Irritation laces her voice already but you remain calm. “He didn’t know. If he didn’t read the book, he would have never realize it. Don’t blame him.”
“I’m not blaming him. I actually believe he had no idea about the book. Maybe he did suspect something about your feelings but he decided not to do anything about it. He married me after all, right?” Soojin says. “What bothers me though, is you writing a whole goddamn book about your silly crush.”
You frown. Silly crush? You wouldn’t go to such great lengths if this was just a crush. And Soojin knows it too, she read the book after all. But she’s not here as a reader who enjoyed your work. She’s here as a wife whose husband you’re in love with.
“I published it under a pen name,” you counter. You’re hoping your voice doesn’t tremble too much. Soojin would gladly use your weakness to her advantage. “I changed names, locations. No one beside me and Jungkook would have known it’s about us.”
“What gave you an impression that you could just use someone’s life like that?”
“It was my life too,” you respond firmly. Jungkook was mad at you because you didn’t tell him about your feelings and now Soojin is going to be angry in his stead for writing a book about your relationship with him? “I talked to Jungkook about it after he had found out. I already apologized and he said he doesn’t mind that–“
“Of course he won’t hold a grudge against you. You’re his best friend.” Soojin snorts.
You sigh heavily. This is going nowhere. It’s crystal clear why she wanted to talk to you but for some reason, she won’t say it directly. Maybe it’s a matter of pride for her, or she’s afraid to admit it out loud.
“I’d like to apologize to you too. I’m sorry for using your relationship with Jungkook for my book, however I am not going to apologize for the way I described it. I didn’t write anything malicious or improper about you. I put on paper what I had seen as a mere bystander,” you say. “I know you’re probably worried now that since everything is out in the open that I am going to act out on my feelings but I can assure you it’s not going to happen.”
Soojin chuckles. “Oh, I’m not worried about that.”
Maybe she shouldn’t feel so sure of herself, you think. It’s not your place to tell her about the kiss. If Jungkook chose to lie by omission, that’s on him. You can’t carry the guilt on your own.
“Because you will, from now on, refrain from hanging out with him,” she continues. “You won’t meet up as often as before, you won’t text him about your mundane life, you will contact him only if necessary.”
Your heart skips a beat. “What?” you croak.
“I don’t want you near Jungkook anymore, it’s as simple as that. I don’t trust you.”
She has all the rights to feel displeased. You’re in love with her husband, after all but forbidding you from seeing him? She cannot control your lives like that.
“Does Jungkook know?” you ask.
Soojin’s rose-tinted lips stretch in a smile. “No, he doesn’t know yet because you will be the one to tell him so,” she replies. “You will tell him that you don’t want to be as close to him as before, that you need distance. If he asks to meet and talk, you will ignore him. If he asks about our conversation, you will say that you apologized to me and I decided to move on.”
“And if I don’t?”
Soojin’s expression is almost triumphant. She got what she wanted at last: you, finally out of Jungkook’s reach.
“Then the world will find out who Magnolia May really is and how she seduced her best friend and made him abandon his wife.”
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ven10 · 5 months ago
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May I request some Quigley hcs pls....... pls sir can i have some more.............. maybe some post-canon perhaps..............
YES!!!!! Quigley my beloved :D!!!!!!!!
(Btw the 1st 4 hcs are quite sad however after that they’re more lighthearted)
1: During his time alone during canon, Quigley developed a habit of talking to himself pretending as if Isadora or Duncan had spoken. [Mainly doing it when he was stressed+wanted to feel less alone, as if he had someone with him who he could rely on.] However even after he’s reunited with his siblings this habit persists, although he tries not to do it.
The first time Duncan, standing in the doorway behind Quigley (who is bent over a map on the floor;trying desperately to track down the Baudelaires) catches Quigley talking to himself he’s confused so hesitates in the doorway for a few moments, sensing that Quigley hasn’t realised he’s there and wondering why Quigley is addressing him as if he had spoken, muttering something along the lines of “no no Dunc, I don’t think that would work…but if we tried what Isa suggested then maybe-”
Duncan stands still for a moment to process before walking over to Quigley’s hunched form, bending down and just hugging him.
2: When he’s anxious he sleeps with his shoes on, prepared to flee at a moment’s notice. He also always keeps a packed rucksack under his bed for this reason. Before he+his triplets inherit their fortune they have very few belongings so it’s really obvious how Quigley keeps his packed.
3: Also on the topic of shoes, I hc that Quigley wears scuffed boots worn to oblivion, the stitches on the seams begging for release, duct tape wrapped and re-wrapped round the left boot (which got stuck in a jagged rock+ripped out). Also the laces would be triple knotted and mismatched (one is the original purple-Quigley’s favourite colour- the other is black and “borrowed” from Isadora after he somehow managed to loose one of his own laces). 🥾
4: Has inner conflict going on between fearing losing the people he loves if he lets them out of his sight for 0.01 seconds vs being the wildly independent person he became in the absence of others
I imagine Quigley to disregard his own wellbeing in favour of “but this plan will work!” eg, Quigley accidentally kicks a ball onto the roof and without second thought tries to scale the building. Leading to the inevitable breakdown of Isadora+Duncan. ⚽️
Uhhh these were all pretty angsty so here’s some more light-hearted ones~✨✨
5: loves ‘worm on a string’s , they’re so dumb, he can’t get enough of them. Isadora+Duncan will be struggling over homework meanwhile Quigley (who is legally dead and therefore doesn’t have to attend school) will use the invisible string to make the worm slither over their maths equations like the menace he is. 🐛
6: While his triplets prefer English as a subject (from being an aspiring journalist and poet) Quigley is better at maths due to the calculations he does to figure out the right coordinates on maps. If he craves socialisation(/chaos) outside of their usual circle then sometimes Quigley will offer to impersonate Isa or Duncan if they have a maths lesson/test that day. 📚
7: Quigley is an extrovert and befriends people quickly but this by no means means he does so normally. His hyperfixation on cartography extends into an interest in geography+cultural differences between places so whenever he meets a new person+has time for full discussions he interrogates them till he has a full history on them, their extended family+their ancestors regarding the places they have lived in or travelled to. 🗣️ 💬 🌍
8: Post-canon whenever the triplets have reunited and are in search of a competent guardian (deciding to find one themselves bc social services would have them sent to some grim place like Prufrock) Duncan scourges through newspaper archives for information of any relatives they have and puts together a family tree.
As he searches for more articles, Isadora+Quigley take a black sharpie to X off any unsuitable/unavailable/dead guardians. Since they’ve been in the library with the archive for a LONG time, a librarian approaches Isa+Quigley to ask if they need any help before cutting herself off mid sentence and backing away hurriedly with her lips pursed tight. It is only then that Isadora+Quigley look down at their ‘family tree’ and realise it resembles a hit list. 🌳 🖊️
9: Quigley steals other people’s clothes all the time. Usually his triplets’ clothes+some of Violet’s jumpers or jackets but occasionally he’ll borrow some of Klaus’ too. Klaus’s things aren’t really Quigley’s style but he likes watching to see how long it takes Klaus to realise. 🧥👚👕👔👖
10: Quigley+Violet are a lethal combo bc Violet will invent something worthy of a new hazard warning and Quigley will be jumping at the opportunity to test it out. 💡
11: Post-canon Quigley gets a job at a local café to afford rent and does a double take every time someone asks for a sugar bowl. 🥣
12: Quigley is a massive animal lover. Cannot get enough of them. Tries to adopt every stray he sees. Convinced Violet to install a dog flap on their door despite the fact that they technically don’t even have a pet.
13: Quigley is The Best at water fights. Sunny thinks she’s doing great having dumped a bucket of water on top of Klaus, meanwhile Quigley is sneaking up behind her with a power-hose. 💧
Thanks so much for the ask @cygninae !!!!!!!!!!!!!
I LOVE talking about Quigley!!!!!! :))))))
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multiplicity-positivity · 1 year ago
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Time for a Check Up!
Hello! How are you doing today? Have you taken care of yourself/your system lately? We’d like to ask you some questions to help you check in with your body, mind, and headmates! This list of questions is not exhaustive - there may be some things we’re missing that are important when it comes to managing your self care. This is just something to get you started if you’re feeling stressed, overwhelmed, or just Bad and need some direction to figure out what’s been bothering you lately.
Physical Health Check Up!
Nourishment: When did you last eat? What did you have for your most recent meal? Have you eaten any fruits or vegetables lately? How about something substantial, like grains, rice, potatoes, or pasta? Or something with protein, like eggs, meat, or legumes? Do you normally take a multivitamin? If so, have you taken one today?
Hydration: When did you last have something to drink? When did you last drink water? Do you have a water bottle or beverage nearby that you can sip from regularly? If you don’t like water or can’t drink it for any reason, how about some milk, juice, coffee, or tea? Any liquids are better than none at all!
Rest: Have you been getting enough sleep lately? Does your sleeping space have everything you need in order to get proper rest? Do you need: a security blanket/plushie, a night light, an air purifier/humidifier, a white noise maker, an extra pillow, a water bottle nearby, or anything else in order to ensure your sleep is restful at night? Are you tired, groggy, or exhausted right now? Can you take a brief, 15-20 minute nap? Can you lie still and close your eyes for a while?
Physical Exercise: When was the last time you got your heart rate up? Is there an exercise you enjoy that you can do occasionally? When have you last stretched your muscles - your hands and wrists, arms, neck, back, feet, and legs? Every body is different, but almost everyone can benefit from regular exercise, even if it’s light! How about taking a walk, doing some squats or sit-ups, lifting some light weights, playing a game or sport outside, or going for a swim?
Mental Health Check Up!
Medical (this could be physical too): Did you take your meds today? Do you need to refill your pills box/dispenser? Do you need to refill any of your prescriptions? Are you keeping track of any upcoming doctor’s appointments?
Mental Exercise: Have you solved any problems/exercised your brain lately? When was the last time you built a puzzle, solved a math problem, or played a word game, sudoku, spot the difference, or other sort of mind-strengthening game? When was the last time you tried to learn something new? Have you had any meaningful discussions, read any interesting books or articles, or used critical thinking lately?
Leisure: When was the last time you did something you enjoy, just for yourself? Have you checked for tension in your body and relaxed your muscles lately? When was the last time you treated yourself with something tasty? Have you listened to some music you love recently? When was the last time you cuddled a pet or plushie, watched a calming/silly show or movie, played a low-effort video game, or done something to decompress and have fun?
Self-Expression: Have you done anything creative lately? Have you recently tried to express your thoughts, feelings, and ideas somehow? When was the last time you journaled? When was the last time you wrote stories or poetry, drawn, sketched, or painted, worked with modeling clay, made a collage, or experimented with another art form? When was the last time you created art just for you or your system, and not for others?
Cleanliness Check Up!
Mouth Hygiene: Have you brushed your teeth today? When you brush your teeth, are you getting your molars, the backs of your teeth, your gums, and tongue? If your toothpaste/toothbrush causes sensory issues, have you tried children’s toothpaste, fruit-flavored toothpaste, and a soft-bristled toothbrush? Have you flossed today? Do you need to use a WaterPik/water flosser or a plastic floss pick to help you floss? When was the last time you used mouth wash? If your teeth are sensitive, do you need special toothpaste to help rebuild enamel?
Body Hygiene: When was the last time you bathed? Do you need a shower chair, bath floor grips, or another accessibility tool to make bathing easier for you? If bathing is difficult, do you have wet wipes handy to help clean under your arms, your groin, and in between folds of skin? When was the last time you washed your face or brushed your hair? When was the last time you trimmed your fingernails and toenails? When was the last time you cleaned your ears? Do you need to change into some clean clothes? Even just a fresh pair of underwear can help a lot!
Living Space: When was the last time you tidied your bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, or other living spaces? Have you checked your house for stray dirty dishes lately? When was the last time you swept or vacuumed your floors, scrubbed your sinks, dusted, or wiped down your countertops? When was the last time you washed your clothes or bedsheets? Can you think of any accessibility tools that might make maintaining your living space easier? Have you considered making a chore schedule to balance out housework throughout the week? Living in a clean home can help improve your mental health and boost your mood!
Relationship Health Check Up!
Inside: How recently have you checked in with your headmates? Is there a member of your system who is struggling more than the rest who you can try to connect with? What have you done lately to help build your relationships and strengthen your bonds with your system members? Have you done anything nice for your headmates lately without expecting anything in return? Have you had any conversations with your headmates one-on-one lately? When was the last time you tried to get to know the different members of your system? When was the last time you communicated your needs to your headmates, and tried to learn their needs as well?
Outside: When was the last time you spoke to your friends and family? Is there anyone you care about who you don’t live with who could use a text or phone call? Have you recently had a good conversation with someone in your life? Have you shared something with a loved one lately? Have you told someone in your life how you’ve been doing lately, or asked how they’ve been doing as well? Have you been communicating your needs and expressing yourself to your friends, partners, family members, or caregivers? Have you let someone in your life know that you love and appreciate them lately?
Wrapping up!
Remember, when it comes to self-care, every little bit helps! It’s better to do something small and simple to take care of yourself, your body, or your system than nothing at all. We hope this post is useful to some of y’all, especially others like us who might struggle to know how to take proper care of ourselves!
Please try to treat yourself and your headmates with gentle kindness today, and remember that it’s okay to not be okay! It’s okay to struggle, and it’s okay to have difficulties with practicing self-care. We just wanted to check in with some questions you can ask yourself to make sure you’ve been meeting your needs. But even if you can’t meet all your needs, we hope that you can do something small to help yourself feel better!
As always, thanks so much for reading, and take care!
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amiserableseriesofevents · 5 months ago
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Courage, to make's love known
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Read on AO3
Thank you so much @alienoresimagines for your extremely inspiring ask ♥️
“Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them’’
- W. Shakespeare, Twelfth Night
John wakes slowly, rubbing his face on the pillow and blinking a few times, blearily taking in his surroundings before remembering where he is; in the New York apartment where he's going to spend the next six weeks of shows. An apartment paid for him by the company, if he may brag — and oh how much he likes being spoiled for doing exactly what he loves.
A pleasant ache echoes through his body, one of physical exertion in order to perfect his craft, and he stretches, shifting on the mattress until his bones and muscles start singing their soreness. Then he rolls on the side and partakes in his favorite morning activity: staring at his fiancé as he sleeps soundly right beside him.
His movements have not stirred Gale, who's still sleeping with half his face buried in the pillow, blonde hair sticking up in every direction like a messy halo and eyelashes so long and thick they brush against the soft skin of his cheekbones. He has one arm tucked under the pillow and the other one outstretched towards John, fingertips grazing his forearm. John cradles Gale's hand in his and places a soft kiss at the center of its palm, looking at him with a reverence that would surely make him blush if he was awake. He's not, though, and John doesn't find it in his heart to rouse him; they got back pretty late last night after the celebratory Opening Night dinner, and the past few days have been very stressful for both of them, John rehearsing for hours every day and Gale keeping him company in the theatre and going through his lines at the apartment — just like old times.
He's only managed to get a week off from school and today is his fifth day here; two more and he'll have to go back and John will be left alone in the apartment for six more weeks surviving only on video calls and good morning texts — and math puns, obviously.
John's tempted to roll him over in this obnoxiously large bed and wake him up in the best way possible, with hot kisses and a hand between his legs to get to the only thing better than Opening Night celebratory sex — that is The Morning After celebratory sex — but Gale really looks too soft and content to be disturbed. So, John resorts to his second favorite Morning After activity: searching the World Wide Web for opinions and reviews.
He shuffles out of bed, puts on a t-shirt and some pants and walks groggily to the kitchen. Despite living here for a little more than a month he's still not very familiar with the layout and organization of the apartment so it takes him a while to find the coffee maker and to open the right cabinet where Gale put the ground beans when he got there, but then he finally settles on a tall barstool with a steamy cup in hand — with almond milk because Gale got him hooked — and starts browsing.
He finds reviews from some of the major theatre magazines and he's relieved to read that the show was largely appreciated in all his aspects, from the direction to the set design and the costumes. Someone has even pointed out his performance as the highlight of the show, which has him giggle like a serious, professional actor shouldn't do; he can't help it, sometimes when someone tells him that he's good at what he does he still has to pinch himself to be sure that this isn't some years long dream.
When he's satisfied with the professional reviews he moves to the social medias to hear the feedback from the fans; TikToks, tweets, everyone seems to have enjoyed the show. There are even a few pictures he's taken with fans at the stage door, he finds them on Instagram and grins at the captions from his fan pages — he has fan pages, can you believe that?!
It's on Instagram that he finds the most interesting thing, an article that makes him spit out his coffee from its title only.
If you thought John Egan was hot, wait until you see his boyfriend!
Cold sweat gathers at the nape of his neck. The article comes from one of those damned gossip pages filled with paparazzi pics and fake news and that's probably what happened, he thinks trying to reassure himself, they must have taken some pics of him and Curt hugging outside the theatre. It can't be Gale because they're always very careful with their PDA, especially around shows when the paps are more likely out to get him. Yes, that must be it; they're gonna have a laugh about it and all will be fine, he thinks as he opens the link.
He's immediately greeted by a picture of him and Gale kissing outside a restaurant.
Fuck.
They haven't been careful enough, they didn't think the paps would follow them to the small, basically unknown restaurant they'd chosen for the celebration dinner and so they kissed on the sidewalk. Still, the picture is pretty blurry, Gale being barely more than a blond smudge of pixels, he could be anyone.
The relief lasts less than three seconds before he notices that it's the first of a series: there's another blurry kiss, then one or two of himself as he waves to someone inside the restaurant, and finally one of just Gale, clear enough to make out most of his features — his proud smile, the glint in his eyes, the mop of blond hair, the cut of his cheekbones.
Again, fuck.
John belatedly remembers the title of the article, about how hot his boyfriend is. Suddenly, all the worries about the article itself vanish replaced by a simmering anger: how dare people think they can judge Gale? He swears to god, if someone's written on the damn internet that Gale, his Gale, is ugly they're gonna have to deal with John's wrath.
He opens the comments, ready to be properly pissed. What he finds is... surprising.
Who's that??? Where was Egan keeping him???
Despite himself, John snorts. He thinks of Gale teaching algebra to high schoolers while John rehearses on a stage, of him cooking terrible dinners for John to comfort him when he gets home. Home, that's where he's keeping him.
How did Egan manage to bag a guy like that?? 🥵
He laughs less now, frowning, honestly offended by this gratuitous rudeness — Gale would find it amusing though, so he refrains to comment back.
Do they need a third? 😜
John huffs — as if. They've had enough troubles managing a relationship between just the two of them, they're definitely not the sharing type.
Does he like girls too? 🙄
No he definitely doesn't, thank you very much.
OMG HE'S SO HOT
John grins mischievously at this one; yes, his boyfriend is hot, John knows it. He's getting even hotter as he grows older — there's some grey in his blond hair, so pale it's barely noticeable for anyone but John, who doesn't miss a chance to remind him of it bragging about his luscious, still completely brown locks. He's oddly proud that some random Instagram user finds him hot too, he could print out the comment and put it on their fridge for the moments when Gale feels down.
Aw what a nice couple 🥹🥹
Butterflies rouse in John's stomach and he finds himself blushing slightly at this comment, smiling like when someone compliments his acting. They're the two most important things in his life after all, acting and Gale; he's glad someone can see how much in love they are just from some blurry pictures.
Egan needs to have him cast in something!! I need to see that pretty face more often
To this one, John laughs out loud. Yeah, he wants to comment, been there, done that. Unless that guy is interested in minor, local performances, he's not going to see Gale's face on stage any time soon.
He hears a sudden noise from the bedroom, sign that Gale's woken up; the worry comes back, a gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach. He'll have to show Gale the pictures, that's for sure, but how is he going to react? He's probably gonna be pissed, as he should.
John is going to pressure to have the pictures removed if Gale asks, of course, but by now they've already been seen by hundreds if not thousands of people; this is surely going to freak him out, hugely. He's so private, even the news of their engagement has been kept a secret to everyone who's not close family — John still wears the ring every day just not on his finger, but on a chain around his neck. What if this sudden exposure to the public makes him reconsider it? He's always said he's ok with John being a more public figure than him, but maybe...
No, John thinks shaking his head. He won't go there. They're not who they were at the beginning of their relationship anymore, they've grown together past the part where a single doubt could destroy everything. They're going to talk about it, plently, and decide together what to do.
He pours another cup of coffee and waits for Gale to pad barefoot to the kitchen, yawning ans with his hair all askew — he wonders what his fans would think of him now, as natural as he comes. For John, he's still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
"Morning darlin'," Gale drawls. "How are the reviews?"
John smirks, passing him the coffee. "They're good, but the thing that's making the most numbers online this morning is you, love!"
Gale smiles, confused. "Are you practicing your math puns?"
"Come take a look," John simply answers, sliding his phone towards him. Gale picks it up, more confused, and his eyes widen as he takes in the pictures. "Those fuckers!" He says, outraged. "They followed us to the restaurant?"
"Maybe, or maybe one of them was simply passing by and took his chance. Read the comments, come on."
As he reads, Gale blushes in a way John finds utterly adorable. "They think I'm hot?" He asks.
John nods, solemnly. "That you are babe, that you are. Look, I'm gonna cal Lil later, tell her to work her magic to have those removed. She's my agent, that's what I hired her for and I know she's good with this kind of thing."
"Why do you want to remove them?"
It's John's turn to be confused. "Well it's a violation of our privacy, and I though you'd be pretty pissed about them," he says tentatively.
Gale nods, sipping his coffee. "It is a violation and I'm pissed at those paps, they should get a life and not bother ours. But the pictures are out, and by now they must have been seen by anyone. I don't think it would matter to have them removed. Besides, I kinda like the way people talk about us in the comments," he admits, still slightly blushing. "They're not judging, they like us."
"They like you," John points out.
"Yeah, but they also like us as a couple. See? Most comments are about us!"
"And that doesn't bother you?" John asks, perplexed.
"Well, it had to come up sooner or later, didn't it? I would have preferred to have more of a say in how and when, but since it happened..."
"So let me get this straight, you want us to be out in public, on the internet, at the mercy of strangers? Are you sure?"
"Why are you putting it so menacing?"
"Because people will judge — me, you, us. Not everyone will be utterly positive and supportive. I just want you to think carefully about that," John says. He'd have absolutely no problem posting a pic of him and Gale on his official profile right now, but he wants the other man to be sure.
Gale cocks an eyebrow at him. "Not everyone will be utterly positive and supportive, really? Is that not the story of our lives?"
John smirks. "You're right, as usual. So, what do you propose we do? Can I post a picture of us like, right now?"
Gale laughs. "Now, don't rush! Let's talk with Lil first, I'm sure she knows how to deal with a... how are the youngsters calling it nowadays? A hard launch?"
"Hanging out with teenagers is ruining you, Buck! How do you even know such a term?!" John laughs, then pulls Gale closer to hug his waist and nuzzles his face against his fiancé's stomach. "You know, you're incredible: a lifetime together, and you still manage to surprise me," he says, softly.
Gale strokes his hair, humming content. "And I'll keep doing it for the rest of our lives. Now, if you're finished with the reviews and don't have to go out so soon, why don't you come back in our bedroom with me? We haven't celebrated enough this morning, as far as I'm concerned..."
A few days later, a picture is posted on John Egan's official Instagram profile. It's a black and white picture of him and another man, one that the fans recognize as the mysterious boyfriend Egan was kissing outside a restaurant in the paparazzi pics that came out a few days ago. The private profile of the other man, one Gale Cleven from Wyoming, theatre aficionado and apparently math teacher, is clearly tagged in the picture.
But the thing that truly sends the fans rioting is the simple, teasing caption:
If you thought John Egan was hot, you should see his fiancé!
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toydreamer · 6 months ago
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Long postcon gratitude post ✨🎉
Firstly all my gratitude and thanks to my awesomest and most wholesome booth mates for the help with marvellous planning & seamless teamwork with testing setup to hustling sales and doing the math when my brain fried itself. Couldn’t have done this on my own 😭🫶🏻💕✨🎉
Secondly, when I say I am SUPER INSANELY GRATEFUL AND TOUCHED BY THE CRAZY AMOUNT OF LOVE AND SUPPORT YA ALL HAVE SHOWERED ME THIS WEEKEND I SWEAR I-
Like Omggg you gaise bought out all of my prints stocks it’s crazy I just can’t. I’m truly grateful for that BUT the one that rly touched me to the core the most are peeps that had been following me for so long coming down specifically just for me and my prints gods I’m SO SORRY ya all waited years oh lord I didn’t know or rather I was afraid I didn’t think there would be demand for hades stuff in particular and it seemed pretty niche a market. Also it was hella niceeee to finally be able to meet everyone irl like ahhh finally! 😭🥹💕🫶🏻✨
And to the peeps who gifted me freebies of Hermes and the hades cast oh gods take my love pls, will take a proper picture Tmr when I unpack everything but rly thank kew for my baby boi. My crops have been watered by all the adorable works!! 😭🫶🏻✨
It’s the best con to date I nv had so much fun before rly thanks for popping by to chat or say hi! Time flew by too quickly. It was superb catching up with old mates and meeting new peeps! I had a lot of fun, rly enjoyed myself despite the exhaustion (Cus my old bones is ded af)
To the danmei fans I am so so sorry I prolly should have rly brought in more tgcf and mdzs prints but alas my fearful ass wasn’t sure about things tho I did restock tgcf right before the event but the demand shot past my expectations by a whole lot and apologies to many who didn’t manage to get it.
Will try to restock more for my next and last con of the year - AFA CSF
See ya all there!
I’ll be bringing in a new lineup of hades prints and hopefully I’ll have enough time to complete new selection of works /stresses and sweats in a months time 🤣😉✨
Once again from the bottom of my heart and soul Tysm!!!🎉
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thatonebirdwrites · 5 months ago
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Sneak peak from my as yet unreleased fic, Shattered but Whole (this is an excerpt)
EXCERPT (from second part - Unravels. There is also Lena's Tale from The Event and Kara's Tale also in Unravels. A third part Integration is still being written. I'll post full fic at end of month hopefully):
Sam's Tale
Sam places the soup on the coffee table. The lack of sleep burns behind her eyes, partly due to Rory's tendency to wander. She sits down on the sofa and manages a smile for the huddled form under the pile of blankets.
Stubborn and unflinching like steel, Rory has failed to eat more than a few sips of broth for the past day. Frustration boils in Sam, but what can she do? She can't let that emotion show.
So she takes a deep breath to calm herself. Pictures the tidal pools, where her, Ruby, and Lena used to walk on weekends before Lex's escape and carefully crafted lies and manipulations that strangled the leadership of two countries and nearly killed them all.
Sam remembers the fires that raged from the satellite weapon. One blast had incinerated parts of Kansas, burning wheat fields, and destroying the town of Smallville. Then another blast had ripped through downtown Metropolis, obliterating one of the news stations and its neighboring buildings.
At the time, Sam had been making dinner when the flash of red swept across the sky. Next came the booms and the brief quake, then the horrid silence before the sirens started up. Most channels in town had gone off-air, but those from one state over functioned fine. It relayed images of the destruction, and how the Claymore satellite turned toward space again. Sam had started packing immediately, while she did everything she could to keep Ruby distracted.
Then hours later, Lena had called.
Sam won't ever forget how her voice whispered Sam's name over and over in a pained, panicked way, as if Sam was the rope she held tightly to keep from falling. In the background, she had heard booms and white noise. At first, she feared Lena had been near the epicenter, only to learn she was instead on the other side of the country. And the booms were just thunder.
Sam runs a hand through her hair. Stress and anxiety hangs like a shawl, the intense rush to reach National City still sizzling in her limbs. She should have returned sooner, before this tragedy.
“Rory,” Sam says gently. Grief coils in her chest when Lena's face turns to her, only for Rory's wide green-blue eyes to meet hers. As always, the haunted expression breaks Sam’s heart a little more. “It’s okay. I’m not angry. I’m just worried. Eating will help you feel better. So how about a few bites?”
Tentatively, Rory reaches out to prod the spoon in the bowl. It swirls the ingredients in little whirlpools.
For Rory to front this long? Without any sign of Kieran or Lena? Worry joins Sam's grief and exhaustion. It's been two — possibly three if she counts the night of Supergirl’s rescue— days with no sign of the others.
“We had to. We had to end the cycle.” Lena's words said so brokenly.
Sam isn’t a fool. Lena/Kieran killed Lex and burned the evidence. She still doesn't know how this came about or why it transpired in Northern California.
Will burning it all be good enough? Should she devise alibis just in case? This really isn’t her purview — Lena is the strategist or Jack. Sam is more of the ‘wild ideas and toss at wall to see if they stick’ person.
Advice definitely needed, but who to call?
Sam taps her fingers against her knee and teases her mind for solutions. How would Jack or Lena approach this? Systematically. Sam is decent with math, but she's never been able to keep up with those science geniuses.
Systematic she can do. She unlocks her phone to peruse her options.
Alex Danvers, FBI agent, who likely knows what they need for alibis. Can Sam trust Alex not to align with her job and bring in Lena?
The news this morning documented Supergirl's fight with Lex and the liberation of the alien power plant. Catco released the first part of a three-part article that exposes of Lex's megalomania and genocidal plans. Kara really outdid herself with that piece.
The tide favoring Lex shifts slowly. No, she can't trust anyone associated with the government. Not until Sam has definitive evidence they won't turn on Lena or Supergirl still.
Fine, whose next?
Kelly Olsen, Lena's therapist. Or soon to be ex-therapist due to Kelly dating Alex Danvers now. Due to Lex's brief reign of terror, Kelly and Lena — as far as Sam knows — hadn't had time to find a suitable replacement to continue Lena's work on integration.
Kara Danvers then? A rather naive journalist, who apparently is Supergirl's alter ego. Or maybe Supergirl is Kara's alter ego. That stormy night Supergirl rescued Lena confirmed they are one and the same.
Lena adores Kara, but her words that stormy night: “Did you know Kara is an alien?” had held a layer of pain.
Sam sighs and rubs her temple. The only other number she has is for James Olsen, who she doesn't trust farther than she can spit. He may have dated Lena, but he'd never truly let go of Lena's last name. Sam wishes she'd never pushed Lena to try, but that was before she understood the depth of Lena's feelings for Kara.
The clink of a spoon echoes softly in the sterile apartment. Rory still hasn't attempted food. Only swirls and swirls, the whirlpools sink into the depths of the cup and reveal bits and pieces of vegetables.
Sam watches and blinks back tears. Jack would have known what to do. He'd likely be mobilizing alibis and lawyers already, but he lay in a coma, trapped since the nanite catastrophe that destroyed Spheerical Industries. A memory Sam tries to avoid. Kieran and Rory had fronted for weeks after that disaster.
“Lena,” Sam whispers, “I know you're in there.” She reaches out to brush black hair from Rory's face. “How would you or Kieran handle this?”
Rory glances at her, her eyebrows scrunched as if in thought. Her other hand lifts from under the blankets and forms the sign for ‘endure.'
Yes, Sam knows Rory is the one that endures. Helplessness seeps through her limbs. She looks down at her phone and flips through the contacts again with her thumb. One by one names trickle by until she stops at Kara Danver's name.
“I’m going to make a phone call,” she tells Rory. “When I get back, I want at least some of this soup eaten. Then we can watch your favorite show. Or maybe play a game?”
Rory tilts her head, and her face contorts — wrinkles in forehead, scrunched eyebrows, flared nostrils, slight grimace, and sucked in cheeks — a sign of a possible switch.
Sam holds her breath in hope.
The expression fades, and Rory tugs blankets tighter around her body. One hand grips the spoon again and forms the whirlpools once more.
Sam lets out her breath. “Promise me, you'll eat? Otherwise, no games later.”
Rory narrows her eyes but reluctantly nods. Sam will take that as progress.
Standing, she glances at her daughter, who sits curled up in the armchair by the sofa. Her latest book — a science fiction novella about nonbinary monks and robots — lays open in her lap. Ruby's fingers crinkle the page right before she turns it.
Sam marvels for the millionth time how much Ruby looks like her. Only her nose and thicker build gives any hint of the worthless father.
Her baby, the reason for much of what Sam does. Today, Ruby's hair curls down past her shoulders, still damp from a shower, and her brown eyes scan the pages of her book. She looks up at Sam, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.
“Keep an eye on her, Rubes. I’ll be on the balcony.”
Ruby gives her a thumbs-up. She knows the drill. In a way, she and Rory act as sisters, which puts Sam in the weird-ass role of mother figure when Rory fronts.
So very different from the best friend role Sam holds for Lena, and the nebulous more than friend role for Kieran. All aspects that leaves Sam in a strange limbo of not able to ever confess her feelings.
Outside, the wind blows cool, the taste of salt off the ocean. Sam leans against the railing and struggles to hold back her tears. Is this disaster the one that finally breaks her best friend?
Sam had promised herself long ago to make sure Lena was never alone wih Lex, and yet, three days ago that exact scenario played out while Sam was stuck in Metropolis. She'd been there for the past three months fixing a major production and accounting mishap, which meant Ruby temporarily enrolling in the school in the interim.
Convenient that such a mishap happened just when Lex strolls back into Lena's life. Sam rubs her eyes and slumps against the railing. The mishap she repaired had been sabotage, that Sam knows, but she can't scrounge up enough evidence to confirm by whom.
Even though in her heart she's positive it was Lex's way to separate her and Lena.
To isolate Lena slowly. Like he always does.
Sam can't ever forget the moment she learns of his abuse. During the initial merger, years ago, Lena had been sitting in her office after a meeting with Lex. Sam only came by to drop off her report, but what she found alarmed her. Lena's expression had been twisted in what looked like pain. Her red, chafed skin and the red mark on her left cheek ignited a deep need to protect in Sam.
Yet she'd failed. All their work to free Lena from the Luthors shredded by Lex. The urge to scream and rip apart the world seethes in Sam.
At least Lex is dead. The fucking bastard. But it should have been her hands that did it. Not Lena's.
She rubs away her angry tears and pulls out her phone. Thumbs through the unlock and hovers over Kara's name. A number she's had since the worldkiller crisis ten months ago. That time of horror is where Sam finally understood viscerally the amnesiac episodes.
***
Sam stands in an alley. Her boots are muddy, and her head stuffed with cotton. Her breath catches in her throat, her lungs raw. Her body feels not her own, like a puppet on strings. She looks down at her hands, the grime under her nails unfamiliar. Her stomach twists in knots, her head aches, and she wants to curl up and weep.
How did she get here? Where is she?
Fog coils in her mind and sizzles with lightning. The air charged with apprehension despite the cloudless night glaring down at her.
Memories seep through slowly: She was skating on a rink with Ruby, who easily kept pace with her. Sam had turned to skate backward and make faces at her daughter. Typical pre-teen response of rolled eyes, but the hint of a smile gave away Ruby's amusement.
She'd just turned to skate forward again when a ringing started in her ears. Ruby passed her, while Sam's vision fogged over. Whispers crept into her ears: let go, let go.
Dark woods loomed then, while the fog tugs her from the fluorescent lights of the indoor rink. Bare branches curved like hands that reach for her, until darkness coats her mind and body. Freezing cold slithers through her.
Only to wake here, in an alleyway, alone.
Terror ignites.
Ruby.
Where is Ruby? She digs through her pockets but finds nothing. No phone.
Wait, why is she in khakis and navy blue button-down shirt? Where is her jeans and T-shirt she'd been wearing skating?
Why is one of her sleeves caked with blood? But she has no wounds.
Ruby. Her feet jerk into motion, and she sprints from the alley.
Car engines and horns assault her ears. She’s a block from L-corp. Definitely phones there to borrow. She dodges through the slow, meandering traffic, and ignores the driver's curses and car horns.
She bursts through L-corp’s doors. To the left is the security desk, where a lone guard reads a magazine, his only light a small lamp. The rest of the building is dark except for the fluorescent lights near the elevators and stairs. Sounds of traffic fade into a faint roar, only interrupted by the crinkle of pages.
Shadows stalk across the foyer, like the woods of her nightmares. One shadow forms the figure of a woman, red eyes aglow. She takes a step backward, her breath caught in her throat and her stomach bubbling with nausea.
“Ms. Arias?” the voice cuts through her frozen terror. The figure vanishes.
Sam turns to see a plump, older man at the security desk. His hazel eyes look up from his book, his mouth in a confused grimace.
“Are you all right?”
No, she most definitely is not. She can't let it show. Breathe, she tells herself. Four, eight, twelve, sixteen, twenty… she counts until her hands stop shaking. “Bill," she asks, slowly, "can I use your phone?”
“Uh, sure.” He turns his desk phone around to face her.
Sam dials Lena’s number. Her fingers tremble despite her attempts to calm down.
To her relief, Lena picks up after one ring. “This is Ms. Luthor speaking.”
“Lena, oh thank god you answered," she clutches the phone, almost in tears at her familiar voice. "Please, where are you? Where is Ruby?”
“Sam?” Relief floods Lena’s voice. “Sam, I’m at the office. Where are you? I can—”
“I’m coming upstairs.” Sam hangs up and sprints for the elevator. As the elevator ascends, she paces back and forth, terrified and nauseated. Her body aches from head to toe as if she’d been in a fight, but she has no memory of the past few hours — days?
It's been two months of horrific nightmares and amnesiac episodes. One month of trying to hide it all under a veneer of practiced poise.
Shadows play across the elevator walls, and one sneers like a face of a demon. She jerks backward, her back hitting the wall. Whispers in a language she can't quite distinguish sinks into the dark. Strange symbols form on her arms, and she tries to rub them away to no avail.
The metal of the elevator forms a face with red eyes.
No. No, no! She hits the buttons on the elevator desperate to escape. The elevator shivers and clanks. Horror stalks her.
"Four, eight, twelve," she says, out loud, desperate to calm herself. "Sixteen, twenty…"
The elevator doors open to darkness, except for a red light at the end of the hall. No, she can't enter that. The doors shut, and she slumps to the ground, her arms around herself. The doors open three more times, and each time she's met with a gloom so deep, she swears she can hear the creaking of branches.
She’s never been more terrified in her life. For these episodes to increase in severity, for them to now impact her daughter? Sam wants to scream and rip herself to shreds.
The fourth time the doors open, light cascades into the room. She throws herself into the precious light. Scrambling to her feet, her boots pound against the tiles as she sprints down the hallway, past a conference room, past Jess' empty desk, and finally to the door of her office.
She tugs open the door, her breaths sharp and agonized.
A figure sits at the desk, the glow of a tablet across her porcelain features and glossy black hair. A fluffy scarf wraps around the woman's neck, her jacket open to show a shiny red shirt that is far too reminiscent of blood.
Recognition sparks. Lena. It's only Lena. Relief stops her mad dash. “Where’s Ruby?”
“Sam! Thank god you’re okay.” Lena sweeps to her feet, her Irish accent faint, which means it’s Lena fronting. Kieran always has a heavy Irish brogue. She takes a few hesitant steps around the desk, but pauses a few feet away. Her concern etched into her perfect features. “Ruby called me right away. I took her home. I — I thought I’d check the office again in hope you’d return here. Like you had the other times.”
“Oh my god.” Sam turns away and presses her hand to her forehead. “How could I do this to her?” She throws her hand down and starts to pace. “What if I’d been driving at the time?”
Her imagination unhelpfully provides a vivid image of a crash and a bloodied body. Bile rises in Sam's throat.
Lena holds up her hands as if to placate her. “She’s safe, Sam. She did the right thing by calling for help.”
Right, help. Good. Emergency plan enacted. Yet Ruby never should have needed it.
Sam takes a deep breath and turns back to Lena. “Was she scared?”
Lena’s shoulders droop then, but the tension in her body shows in her creased brows “Yes. We all are.” Cautiously, Lena approaches her, one hand still upheld. “Do — do you remember anything?”
Sam shakes her head. Whispers, shadowed woods, and fog provides no clues. “No. No, I don’t. Same as always.”
Lena tugs at her fingers. “Ruby told me about the other times.”
Sam stares at her, unable to fathom at first Lena's meaning. “She doesn’t know,” she says, finally. “I — I haven’t told her yet.”
“She’s a smart kid. Had a time-line of dates, times, and places —”
“You told a twelve year old that her mother is sick with a illness no one can diagnose?” A coiling horror mixed with anger shudders through her body. No, Ruby can't know. “Seriously?”
“Sam, she already knew.” Lena holds up her hands again, as if to ward off Sam’s anger. “I simply reassured her that you didn’t abandon her. That we’re looking into this.”
“Si—”
The world sears in sudden frigid cold. It weaves into her bones, as dark grey fog coils. Let go, a whisper curls into her ears. A face forms in the mists, skull with no eyes, and hands reach up from the ground.
Bare branches leer over her like clawed hands. She staggers backward, only to hit the desk.
She’s back in the office. “What — what…” Bile burns her throat.
Lena stands on the other side of her, her arms around herself, and a haunted look in her eyes. She blinks and drops her hands to her side. “Sam? Are — are you back?”
Sam slowly backs up until her legs hit a chair. She lowers herself, shaken.
“Sam? Did you just have a blackout?”
Terror throttles her breathing, her gasps sharp and pained. Nodding, she shivers and grips the chair.
Lena holds up her hands as if to calm her down. “You don’t remember anything you just said?”
Tears blur her vision. She shakes her head. “I need help,” she whispers. Something more than therapy, more than Alex’s MRI and CT tests. Something that can dig deep into why these episodes happen when it’s never happened prior.
“Sam, do you trust me?” Lena drops to one knee next to Sam’s chair, and gently grasps her hands.
Sam clings to Lena’s warm and grounding touch and nods.
“Let me run some tests. You’ll have to stay in the basement lab for the night.” Lena bites her lip and looks down at their hands. “If I’m right about this, you’re in grave danger.”
Dread weighs heavy on Sam. “Whatever is needed, do it.” If anyone can find what’s wrong, it’d be her best friend. The person who understands amnesiac episodes, the one who is a genius with biology and engineering — the person Sam trusts and loves more than anyone else in the universe. “You’ll watch Ruby?”
“Of course. She’s in a safe place right now, and with someone I trust to keep an eye on her.”
Her words help only marginally; Sam can’t help but worry for her daughter. To not be able to see her? Out of fear of what she might do in an episode? The tears escape despite all her attempts to hold them at bay.
“I promise you I’ll figure this out. We’ll find the cure together.” Lena wraps an arm around her shoulder, while her other hand rubs her thumb over Sam’s knuckles. Exactly the same way Sam does during Lena’s panic attacks or amnesiac episodes. Oh, how the tables have turned.
True to her word, Lena sets her up in a medical bed in the basement lab and runs the battery of tests. Her best friend says very little, her entire focus on her work — like always when she hyperfocuses.
Needles used shimmer with a hint of green and leave a weird ache after. Hum of machines scan her insides, and the tool to scrape a sample from inside her mouth feels cold and unnerving. The only words spoken are gentle but short explanations of each procedure.
She knows Lena does it to try to calm her.
Nothing will calm her. Not until they know the truth.
Sam wonders if feeling shattered or scared is how Lena is all the time. If so, how does she cope? Admiration for Lena’s strength and resiliency floods Sam. Lena’s spent a life like this, while Sam falls apart after only a few months.
“This last test relies on you sleeping.” Lena stands a few feet away, her hands clasped in front of her. Her accent has stayed faint these last few hours, which means Kieran hasn’t fronted once. “Do you think you can sleep?”
Sam rubs her eyes. “Maybe. I’m exhausted enough.”
For a moment, Lena stands silently, her expression contorts almost in pain. She takes in a sharp breath, and her shoulders straighten, her posture rigid. A switch.
“Then rest.” Her best friend steps up to the bed, her accent a thick Irish brogue, where each word is pronounced slowly as if she tastes each one. That signals this is now Kieran. “We will watch over you.” She gently kisses Sam’s forehead and smooths back her hair.
Sam aches to hold her and be held in turn. Instead, she grasps Kieran’s hand. “Can — can you really cure this?”
“Not me, luv,” Kieran says, tenderly. “Lena can. She has a plan. We just need more data.” Her hand continues to stroke Sam’s hair, her other tightly holding Sam’s left. “Close your eyes now, and I shall sing you to sleep.”
Of Lena’s many parts, Kieran is the only one that can hold a tune, and she sings an Irish ballad. It ripples over Sam and encases her in warmth. She finally drifts to a dreamless sleep.
When she wakes, her head aches, her vision blurry, and her shoulder hurts. She reaches up and realizes there’s a device there, but she can’t quite see what it is.
“Lena? Kieran?” She’s not sure who is fronting for her friend.
“It's Lena.” Lena looks up from the desk, where several papers are scattered along with a tablet and a laptop. She gives her a faint smile. Dark circles line her eyes. Likely barely slept. Typical of her. “How do you feel?”
“Achey. What — what is this?” She taps the device.
“Precaution.” Lena stands and walks closer, only to stop a few feet away. “I — I have good and bad news.”
“Surely not as bad as the world ending?” Sam jokes.
Lena doesn’t laugh nor does she smile. Her eyes narrow instead. “I reviewed our data and the timeline of your episodes.”
The seriousness in Lena’s stance, the faint wisp of her accent, and the pain in her tone makes it clear that Sam isn’t going to like her next words. She braces herself.
“Your episodes align with when Reign appears.”
Sam jolts upright in shock. “No. That’s crazy.”
Lena frowns. “The data I’ve taken has provided proof. I suspect when you left on your trip ‘to find your origins,’ you were possessed. The time and date of that correlates to the timing of Reign’s cult leader escaping prison.”
Sam shakes her head. There’s no way.
“Let me show you then.” She picks up a remote and turns on the television. It plays a segment from a news report of a murder. “Two months ago you report a black out. Reign appears and kills three robbers and leaves an odd symbol all over National City. The same symbol the cultist gave Kara during her interview exactly two weeks before your ‘trip’ happened.”
Sam can’t believe her ears. She shakes her head again.
“A week later, you have another black out.” She hits the remote and another news segment appears. “Seven people killed at a warehouse. Their bodies mutilated.”
“Lena, why are you doing this?” Sam stumbles out of the bed. “You — you can’t— I get squeamish whenever Ruby asks me to kill a spider. Why — how — there’s no way I’d ever kill those people!”
Lena sighs. “I don’t think you did.”
“So what, I’m like you? Split personality now?” She snaps as she starts to pace. A weird energy tingles through her, and the area where the device is aches.
Lena takes a shuddering breath. “Sam, that’s —” She turns away and fiddles with her tablet. “Is that really what you think of us?” she asks quietly.
“No!” Sam put her head in her hands. “No, it’s not at all. I — I don’t know why I said that. You’re absolutely lovely. All of you.”
“Sure.” The flat tone to her voice hurts to hear.
“Lena, I mean it!” Sam drops onto the bed. “I’m not thinking straight. My body feels weird, and my head hurts, and — and I’m scared. Do — do you have dreams of dark forests with mists that whisper frightening things when you switch?”
Lena’s head shoots up, and she stares at Sam.”No, I don’t. I thought you said you don’t remember anything.”
“I don’t. But when — when I got angry at you at the office, I — I was briefly there, and, god, it sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”
“No, it doesn’t.” Lena picks up the tablet and types something into it. “That’s valuable information.”
“Do you know what’s wrong then?” Sam needs answers. Some sort of tangible goal, not this nebulous grey.
“I think Reign is possessing you,” Lena says, bluntly. “When she fronts, you lose all awareness. Your DNA essentially rewrites itself. None of my alters rewrite my DNA. Believe me, I tested myself to verify. It’s likely the Reign cultists targeted you, but what they used to cause this, I’m still researching.”
Sam stares at her, shocked.
“Please, Sam, understand, I wouldn’t tell you this if I wasn’t sure.” Lena’s words are sharp, firm, but her hands tremble, her eyes red-lined as if she’s been crying.
“This is ridiculous.” Sam starts to pace. Her body vibrates with energy, and she feels ill. Like her stomach’s acid eats through her intestines. Looking at the TV makes it worse. “I’m going home to Ruby.” She turns and walks straight into a wall. Startled, she stumbles backward. There’s nothing there.
She reaches out, tentatively, and her fingers bounce against an invisible field. “Lena, what the hell? Let me out!”
Lena shakes her head. Tears shine in her eyes. “I — I can’t. You asked me to help you. This is the only safe way.”
“No!” Sam slams her hand against the field. “Let me out, Lena. I want to see my daughter.”
“Until I find a cure, no.” Her voice shakes, but she holds her chin defiantly.
“So this is how it is?” She has the urge to lash out, to draw blood. Energy jolts through her, and her vision blurs further. Whispers of a fog curls around her mind and body. “Lena Luthor holds her best friend hostage —”
Lena breathes in sharply. “Sam, you asked me to help you.”
“I didn’t ask to be held in a cage!” Sam shoots back. “This was supposed to be just tests.”
Lena closes her eyes and turns away. Her shoulders shake, and her expression contorts. A sure sign she’s fighting against a switch. “I need to check on Ruby.” She takes the tablet and leaves.
The door clangs shut behind her. Silence envelops Sam, and with it, shadows plague her periphery. The light flickers. Fear swiftly replaces her frustration.
The TV still plays news segments. A desk with a monitor and keyboard sits under it. Distract. Must distract, otherwise the shadows creep closer, and the eerie sense of being watched looms larger.
She switches off the TV and settles in the chair. Clicking the start menu, she finds only generic games and a word processor. No internet connection and the clock is hidden. Meaning, she has no clue of the date or time.
Turning, she slams her fists against the forcefield, but it doesn’t budge. She grabs her chair and hits it against it again and again, but still nothing. It stays firmly there. Trapped.
A scream erupts from her throat, and she throws her body at the field, only to slide to the ground in a fit of panicked weeping. Claustrophobia claws through her, and she desperately wraps her arms around herself. Taps her shoulders again and again until the soft beat of her hands transforms the panic into a quiet, anxious simmer.
She thinks through all the years she’s known Lena, and nothing implies a trajectory to this situation. Her blackouts is the new data-point, which means, Lena doesn’t trust her as long as she has them.
Sam doesn't trust herself as long as they keep happening.
She rubs away her tears. Decides to focus on Aikido exercises to pass the time. Thinking about her situation only induces more panic, and she needs to try to stay calm for when Lena returns.
Hours pass. Or maybe minutes. Time flows unsteadily, the buzz of monitors her only sound. When her muscles tire, she plays solitaire and later a generic racing game. Finally, sleep slithers up her spine, and she manages a nap.
When she wakes, Lena sits at the desk again. This time a picture frame lays on the desk by her tablet. “Good morning,” she says with her boardroom voice, a carefully modulated and emotionless tone. “Have you thought about what I’ve told you?”
“Lena, please, don’t play games with me,” Sam pleads. Being alone messes with her mind, and she fears the silence. “Let me go home. I told you, if I killed people, I’d remember.”
Her fingers tap against the tablet. “Amnesiac episodes would not allow you to remember such things.”
“Then give me a better explanation than, ‘hey, you’re a supervillain in your spare time,’” Sam snaps. “Aren’t we family, Lena? Locking me up like this isn’t cool.” Frustration tingles through her limbs, and the urge to lash out bubbles through her. “I guess the saying is right,” she says.
“What saying?” Lena frowns.
“Ask an oncologist what's wrong, they'll say cancer. Ask a pulmonologist, they'll say asthma. Ask a Luthor…” The words freeze on her tongue. What is she saying?
No, no, she can't finish that thought.
Fury radiates from Lena’s eyes, her fists clenched, and her accent is nearly nonexistent. “They'll say Supervillain?” she finishes for Sam. “Maybe on some deep level you do know.” Her voice is cold, deadly almost, as the most unnerving alter of all comes to the front.
Sam shakes her head. “No, no, I didn't mean —”
“Let’s take a look, shall we? How about Morgan Edge, the bastard who tried to poison a city for profit.” Angry Lena walks back and forth by the edge of the forcefield, while her thumb punches the remote.
The television turns on behind Sam to a news segment of the attack on Morgan Edge.
“What I wouldn’t give to see how that played out.” The sneer on Lena's face looks foreign.
Sam scrambles to her feet and backs away, only to hit the other side of the forcefield. “What — what — no.”
“Or what about Supergirl? What did it feel like to connect your fist with something that solid? That powerful?” Another news segment appeared on the screen, where Supergirl falls motionless from a great height. “Or those men?” A third one flashes into view that depicts entrails and mangled bodies. “You tore those men apart. Ripped their limbs from their bodies.” The fury in her voice accents each verb with deadly accuracy. “Did you delight in their deaths?” Angry Lena steps closer, her stormy eyes boring into Sam.
“No!” Sam clenches her fists. Her whole body vibrates, and she feels like she’s about to explode. “Stop this! I just want to go home to my daughter!”
“As if I’d let you near Ruby again,” Angry Lena snarls. “How did it feel living in that house with her day in and day out? When you could easily snap her in half with your bare hands?”
“Stop this!” The energy rattles through her bones, rises up toward her head, and she feels frantic. Something terrible looms, and she can’t stop it.
When Angry Lena speaks again, Sam fails to comprehend. Her words trigger a flare of pain that rips through Sam’s body, catapults her mind into a frigid, grey fog.
Her feet slide on rocky soil.
Branches creak but there is no wind.
Shadows coil in her periphery, whispers caress her ears. Let go. Let go.
Misty hands brush against her ankles. She kicks them away and staggers backward, only for her hand to hit something soft and moist. She screams and jolts her hand away. Her feet slip on the gravelly soil, and she tumbles into a ravine. She curls up with her hands above her head and whimpers.
“Four, eight, twelve,” she counts, just like she did many times with Lena, “sixteen, twenty...”
The coldness abates, the fog fades, and light warms her eyelids. Pain burns through her body. She gasps and opens her eyes to find herself flat on her back.
Around her, the bed has been torn in half. The desk shredded. The monitor is ripped apart, and the television swings back and forth on its cords. A video plays. She watches the last bit of Angry Lena's cruel words, then the monstrous change ripples through Sam's body.
Not-Sam unleashes heat vision and tears apart the room with her bare hands.
Terror freezes her, her eyes wide. Metal snaps off the bed and hurls at the force field. It shimmers brightly. Lena ducks behind her desk in the video, and that sours Sam's mouth with bile.
She leaps forward to stab at the TV’s buttons in desperation. “Turn it off, turn it off!”
The television goes silent.
“We — we needed you to see it for yourself.” Lena’s voice whispers, pain in her voice. “And we didn’t know how else to do it. You — you weren’t listening. I’m sorry, Sam.”
“All those people…” Sam crumples and breaks into tears. Her hands are coated in blood. How can she ever face her daughter again?
The forcefield flickers and drops on one side, while Lena springs to her side. “Sam, Sam, it wasn’t your fault.” She wraps her arms tightly around her shoulders and presses her forehead against Sam's. “You weren’t in control. When Reign fronted, I got samples of her DNA, okay? And knowledge is power. We’re going to get you through this, okay?”
Sobs cascade through her body. She doesn’t know for how long she cries, but Lena rocks her gently. Kisses her temple, and strokes her hair.
Her voice changes to the thicker Irish brogue of Kieran. “It’s okay, luv. It’s okay. You’re not alone in this. We understand. We can cure this. Lena has a plan, and I’m sorry we spoke so harshly. It won’t ever happen again.”
Sam clings to such frail hope. Slowly, her sobs slow. She shivers and pulls back. “Kieran, you — you can’t be in here with me then. Not — not if I could turn into Reign.”
Kieran brushes hair from Sam’s face and cups her cheek, her eyes a turquoise color instead of Lena's usual emerald. “We know the risk.” She pulls out a phone and gently places it in Sam’s hands. “Call your daughter. We’ll clean up.” She kisses Sam on the forehead, and stands with a sad smile.
The affection in Kieran's voice takes the breath from Sam. For a moment, she stares up at her best friend, the part that has stayed fiercely loyal to Sam, and always touches her with such reverence.
Kieran doesn’t just love her as a friend, but perhaps more than one.
But Sam can never act on this realization, not with her complex roles in Lena’s life — Lena’s best friend, this nebulous more than friends with Kieran, the almost motherly role for Rory, and the grounding role for Angry Lena.
Her current state mars her roles, darkens her impact, threatens to sever their connection. The hurtful words they hurled at each other fade to a dull ache. Instead, Sam holds back a sob of grief. Her roles in Lena's and Ruby's lives define her.
Without them, who is she? How can she be useful to anyone?
She looks down at the phone and sags against the wall.
Kieran pushes out the shattered bed and desk. Sweeps away the glass and metal. A new bed she rolls into the enclosure.
As she works, Sam unlocks her phone and stares at the number for Ruby’s emergency phone. What does she even say? Grief lances through her, her heart charred by the horrors.
Her best friend finishes and pauses at Sam’s side. “Call,” she says, quietly. “You need to hear her voice as much as she needs yours.” The thicker accent is gone, and Lena’s deep emerald eyes meet Sam’s. She reaches out to gently trail her fingers along Sam’s right temple. “I’ll be just outside the enclosure, okay?”
Sam nods. She waits until the hum of the forcefield activates before she finally speaks. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier.”
“It’s okay, Sam. We’re sorry too.” Lena sits down on the other side, her tablet on the ground next to her. “We understand how scary this is. But a cure is possible. Whatever the cultists did, we can undo, okay?”
Sam shudders and tries to believe Lena, but her hope is fragile. Her mind keeps spinning back to the news segments, to the deaths by her hands — even if she wasn’t the one fronting. Images of entrails clog her thoughts.
No. Think of anything else. She takes a shaky breath and lets it out slowly. Thinks instead of the softness of Lena's hands against her face.
And the smile of her daughter as she eagerly shares a story from school.
Precious grounding moments.
She finally hits the dial button.
“Mom?” Ruby's voice shakes at first but then steadies. “Is it you?”
“Hey Rubes, it’s me. I wanted to check in on you.” She doesn’t dare tell her where she really is. In case it puts her in danger.
“Mom, are you okay? Is Aunt Lena with you?”
“Yes, she is. And the truth is, I am sick, so I have to stay in the hospital for a little while longer. But I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“Can I come see you? I miss you.”
“Oh baby, I miss you too.” The tears flow harder, and she chokes back a sob. “But you can’t. It may be contagious, and I can’t risk you. Aunt Lena will be by to check on you, okay? And I’ll be home as soon as I’m better.”
It feels so futile. So banal of a promise. She can’t bring herself to lie further.
“But Mom, can't I just put on one of Lena's special hazmat suits? I'll be good!” Tears mangle part of her words, but Sam understands.
“No, you need to do what Aunt Lena says is best. She's good at what she does, okay? She's helping me too. I promise you, we'll get through this, okay?”
Ruby's sobs echo in Sam's ears. “Mom… I love you, okay? And maybe we can do a video call instead?”
No. No, she can't let Ruby see her in this state. “We'll see. I love you, Rubes. Love you so much. Be good for your Aunt Lena.” She hangs up before Ruby can say another word.
Lena speaks then. “Don’t worry about Ruby. I’ll take her to —”
“Don’t tell me where she is,” Sam interjects with a strangled sob. She looks up to see Lena fighting tears too. “Not until I’m cured.”
Lena nods as a few tears escape. That Sam can’t bear. To be the cause of it? She hides her face against her knees and curls up against the wall. Sobs broil down her body.
Behind her, Kieran’s Irish brogue sings a haunting tune that wraps around Sam, soothes her pain, until her sobs fade to ragged breathing and counting in multiples of four.
The next few weeks is torturous. Sam's hold on reality untethers as her sense of time and space evaporates into a haze of pain and fear. A war of fluorescent lights versus seething grey fog. They learn that the place Sam's mind goes is an alternate dimension related to the possession.
Waking from that dimension leaves Sam in a cold sweat. She leans against the forcefield with Lena leaning against the otherside. "How do you deal with this daily?" Sam wipes away her tears. "I — I don't know how to move forward. Not with — with that monster inside me."
"Acceptance of the truth is the first step," Lena admits. "I always had Kieran. They wrote in our shared journal and signed the entries. But to learn of new alters? Practice acceptance. You're already good at it."
"How can I accept that a blood-thirsty killer is inside me?" Sam whispers. "I never want to hurt anyone."
"It's not about accepting their actions, Sam. It's about accepting that they exist. You don't have to nor should you accept what they do." Lena shifts to press her hand against the forcefield. "Look at me, hun."
Sam turns and meets Lena's green eyes.
"My alters are me," she says, quietly. "We may have split into separate parts, each of unique in a way, but they are still me. But Reign is not you. Reign was forced on you. Accept she exists, but resist her control. This is your body."
"How do I do that?" Sam presses her hand over Lena's, the forcefield separating them from feeling the other's touch.
"You do it with me often. Ground oneself in the present. For you, ground yourself in your body. In your senses." Lena taps her ears and above her eyes. "It may feel like a fight, but you are strong." She taps her leg and tilts her head, her accent still the light one of Lena. "Since you go to that other dimension, try focusing on your body and how it feels. Imagine each sense, the height and weight, and clothes. Imagination is a powerful tool."
Sam ponders Lena's advice and wonders if she can pull it off while terrified out of her mind. Maybe if she practiced enough? "Can we go through this as an exercise? To practice?"
Lena smiles, faintly. "Sure."
They spend the next two hours practicing, and make it part of their daily activities. Each practice session, Sam feels a little stronger, more like she might actually be able to pull it off if she gets trapped in the other realm.
A week later, Lena attempts to capture data during Sam's times in the alternate dimension. One day she accidentally causes both Sam and Reign to manifest in that terrifying forest.
Branches curl toward her, and whispers coil around her. Shivering, she turns and freezes. An exact copy of herself stands a few feet away, clad in black, except her eyes are red. They shine in the dark fog.
She dives behind a tree.
“Sam, do you truly think you can resist me?” the words slide off the other's tongue like poisoned honey.
One second Reign is several trees away, and the next she's at Sam's side. Her hands reach for Sam's shoulder.
Sam throws herself backward. “Don't touch me.” She strives for bravado. Grabbing a stick, she swings it desperately.
Reign stalks her, moving unnaturally fast. One moment on Sam's left, the next on her right. Fog billows around her like monstrous wings, and the air charged with sparks of black lightning. Trees creak despite no wind. The cold leeches away Sam's energy.
Stay focused. Sam adapts her breathing to her Aikido training, her stance to a loose defensive one. This time her swing hits Reign in the chest.
Reign snaps the branch like a twig, and darts forward to snag Sam's throat. She's slammed against a tree. Red eyes bore into her. Whispers from the broiling fog chant, let go, let go.
No! She can’t leave Ruby. Or Lena.
She knees Reign in the stomach. The grip loosens enough for her to twist and perform a throw. Gasping in air, she stumbles backward. Her body — she needs to imagine what her body feels like. As she runs from Reign, who is staggering to her feet still, she pictures how her legs feel while running in the real world. How her muscles pump, how the fabric of her clothes rub against her skin, the way her hair falls across her neck and back, and the sweat that dampens her hair's roots.
She trips and falls through the ground and into the soft blankets of the medical bed. She's back in the forcefield room, far from Reign. Sam weeps and curls up, the fire in her veins pulses from the device on her shoulder. “No, no, don't do that again, Lena.”
“What happened?” Lena presses her hand against the forcefield, but she doesn't lower it or come closer.
“I was there with Reign.” Sam shudders. “God, that monster. You got to stop her, Lena. Please.”
“Oh crap.” Lena drops her hand to her side. “I — I got a sample of the enzyme causing the change just now. While you were passed out. I think I can synthesize a cure from it.”
Sam clings to the first good news in weeks. But like all good things, the very next day, the world erupts into chaos.
Two aliens rip apart concrete and metal and break into Lena’s lab. Seconds later, Supergirl and three others teleport into the room in a flash of red light. In the ensuing fight, Sam loses control.
She crashes into the nightmare realm. Mists seethe over her, and this time she can’t find her way back to her own body. Claw-like branches leer over her, whispers to let go tug at her ears, and the ground heaves like it breathes.
Desperate, she stumbles to her feet. Faces form in the mists and dive at her. She ducks and runs.
She trips over something soft. Turning, she gasps and jerks her leg off the body. A Korean woman lies there, her face locked in a silent scream.
Sam gasps and scrambles backward. Slipping, she tumbles down a ravine and into a cavern. Flickering blue light shimmers in its depths. One hand against the wall, she stumbles forward.
Turning a corner, she stops in shock. Black woman carves words into the sandstone rock. Names, places, but other words make no sense. Over and over, she carves and mutters incoherently.
"Hello?" Sam tries, but the woman doesn't respond. She only carves and shivers.
That’s when Sam sees firsthand how this realm eats away memories. Tears down the mind, until there is nothing left but to die.
She doesn’t know how long she’s there. But soon the whispers and growing pain starts to eat into her too. Her mind grows foggy, her memories slither away like oil.
She keeps the other woman company but struggles to remember why. Finds her own sharp rock and carves her name, Ruby's, and Lena’s along with anything else she can remember.
Faces form in the mists, and whispers slither like hands across her shoulders. She shivers and carves until her hands and arms ache.
The woman coughs, shakes, and freezes with glassy eyes. Sam watches in horror as the woman ceases to breath and tips over as if frozen solid. Mists coil over the body, faces form in the shadows, and mist hands sweep over the body.
Horror spikes, and Sam scrambles deeper into the cave. Near bubbling pools, one clear and one muddy. The walls of the cave close in on her.
Sobbing, she carves the names over and over. Figures coalesce, familiar until their faces twist into snarls, their eyes empty sockets. She huddles closer to the rock wall, ducks her head, and digs her rock deeper into the sandstone.
Her nails start to bleed, her palm raw. Still she carves.
A voice calls out her name. An almost familiar one. “Sam?”
She keeps carving. It’s another phantom. Another to distract her from her task.
“Sam. Sam, it’s me.” Gentle hands turn her face.
She looks into emerald eyes. “No — not real…” She tries to tug free, but this one is solid unlike the others. Fear curdles through her. She’s too weak too fight. Now they’ll kill her like the others.
“Sam, please, I really am here.” The green-eyed lady strokes her cheek in a familiar, almost calming way. “Count with me, okay? Four, eight, twelve, sixteen…”
“Twenty, twenty-four, twenty-eight…” Sam murmurs. Slowly, a memory surfaces of her doing exactly this with someone she loves. The name peels back. “Lena. You’re Lena.”
“Yes.” Lena embraces her. “Yes, it’s me.”
“But you — you’re not real.” Sam clings to her and a sob clogs her throat.
“I am. I really am.” Lena cards her fingers through Sam’s hair. “Supergirl and her friends helped me reach this place. She’s here with me, see?” She turns to look back, her arm still tight around Sam’s shoulders.
Two people stand behind Lena. One in a red cape with a red and blue suit. The other dressed in black with red hair cut short. Both familiar but the names escape Sam.
“Hey Sam,” the red-head says. “Remember me? We hang out a lot with your daughter. Gone clubbing a few times. You can drink me under the table.”
“Alex.” More names and memories bubble through the fog. “Supergirl?” She looks at the caped hero.
“Yeah, it’s me.” Supergirl smiles sadly. “Lena found a way to help you, but we need to find Reign first. We got to capture her. Go back to your body and signal us.”
“I — I don’t know how.”
“Hun, you do,” Lena says fiercely. “Just like you’ve always done for me when I’m lost in the fog.”
“Fog…” Sam struggles to remember, but the memories dance just out of reach. “What — what did I do for you?”
Lena breathes in sharply. She gently brushes Sam’s hair from her face. “I’ll teach you like you taught me. Count and breathe with me. Feel your body, use all of your senses.” She resumes counting. “Thirty-two, thirty-six, forty…”
Sam closes her eyes and leans her forehead against Lena’s shoulder. “Forty-four, forty-eight, fifty-two…” The multiples of four ground her, centers her breaths, and she feels a faint tug in her mind. She smells the air, feels Lena's touch against her skin, the weight of clothes on her body. As she continues to count with Lena, that tug grows stronger until it broils over.
She breaths in sharply and finds herself in a large cavern. On either side of her, two woman clad in a grey and black suit similar to her own chant in an unfamiliar language. Beyond them stands two people dressed in black robes with hoods, but they stand silent, eyes closed.
Energy seethes from the Reign-like women’s hands and her own. More sparks fly into the well in the center of the room. To her horror, with each pulse, the well burrows deeper, the bottom almost out of sight.
Quakes shimmer outward from the well, but the energy roots them. Meanwhile, the cavern itself shakes at each pulse, and a few stones fall near the hooded figures. Behind her, she sees a control panel with a blue crystal glowing in the center of it.
A memory surges through the simmering fog in her mind. That’s the same crystal she’d found when she went to speak to her adopted mother. It came from a pod in her mother's garage. Attackers had descended on them like rabid coyotes. She'd defended her mother, until a song ensnared her with pain. A dark fog blinded all her senses. She’d been trapped in a shroud of whispers, until she woke the next day in her bed at home.
Fury ignites. Lena is right yet again. Cultists did something, and it relates to that damn crystal.
It takes all of her strength to jerk herself out of the energy circle. Sparks sear across her skin.
She throws herself at the control panel, just as the two hooded figures call out in anger. She tugs it free. The energy currents flicker and go dark. She smashes the crystal against the console.
Howls of fury screech behind her. She’s ripped away from the panel, thrown across the cavern, and slams into stone. She stumbles to her feet, angry and desperate to stay in control.
The other two aliens attack, and she blocks their punches. Falls into her defensive stance. Throws one with a breath throw, and the other she dodges. Beyond them, the hooded figures start to chant, a harsh discordant melody. Black fog rises from the ground.
Sam knows she’s running out of time, but if she’s to get the signal out, she has to take out these assholes first.
She blocks their punches and tosses one of the Reign-like woman into the console. Strength beyond what she's ever felt burns through her, and she rips apart a rock to slam into the first Reign-like woman. She slumps against the broken console.
The second one catches her by surprise and slams a fist into her head. Sam stumbles, only to get another punch in the gut. She gasps and falls to her knees.
Dark fog curls around her legs.
But her body is still in the transformed state. She lets out a roar and ignites the heat vision. It slices through the cavern’s roof, burning through to the sky above.
The other Reign-like being punches her, and she skids across the ground. Her heat vision sputters to a stop. Another kick spends her spinning, and she lands far too close to the hooded figures. The dark fog coils around her, suffocates her breath, but dammit, if she’s going out, then she’s taking them with her.
She hurls herself into the hooded figures. One raises a hand, and she bounces against a shield.
Their feet still connect with the earth though. She digs her fingers deep and tugs upward with all her strength. The ground splits and the hooded figures shout. One tumbles into the pit, and the other snags a rock, holding on for dear life.
A chant sounds behind her. The remaining Reign-like asshole and sings a grating melody that bleeds into Sam's consciousness, like a worms burrowing into her flesh.
She can feel her consciousness start to slip away. She’s running out of time.
Desperate, she gathers the last vestiges of her will and rips up the ground and hurls it into the pit. The remaining figure falls screaming. Energy shoots upward, and the cavern shakes. Rocks slam down atop her. Her vision blackens.
She tumbles through the earth and hits the misty cavern of the nightmare realm. But no one is there. Lena and the others are gone. Shadows leer, lights flicker like sparks, and the pools behind her broil with wisps of light.
Terror threatens, but Sam grabs a rock and slams it against the sandstone. Ruby needs her. Lena needs her. She must hold tight to hope. Let it fuel her and burn away the memory-consuming fog.
She resumes her carving, and hours — days? — later violet energy sears into the ground around her. Pain rockets through her, and she screams in agony. Her cells rip and reform.
She’s thrown backward, through the earth, and slams into cold tile. There she shudders against the ground, spent.
“Sam?” Lena’s sweet voice, the one with the wisp of an accent, breaks through her exhaustion.
A warm blanket falls across her body. Sam blinks upward to see Lena holding a beaker stained with a black liquid. Relief surges at the sight of her beautiful face and emerald eyes.
“Do — do you have some Tylenol?” Sam manages a faint smile.
Lena drops to her side in relief, the beaker falls, and rolls under a half destroyed table. All around her lies the remains of a wrecked laboratory, and there, seated crosslegged near them is a cape-less Supergirl. She sights Alex and two others she doesn’t recognize sorting through the rubble.
“Sam.” Lena wraps her arms around her. Her warmth a balm to the cold that still clings to her from the nightmare realm. “God, I’m so glad you’re back.”
“You did it then?” She feels weak, shaky, but whole. Like a massive weight been lifted from her shoulders. “Destroyed Reign?”
“Obliterated her to dust,” Supergirl says, softly. “All thanks to Lena’s genius and a fancy, magical rock that hurt like hell to touch.”
“We couldn’t have done it without you, Sam,” Lena protests. “That signal you sent worked.”
“You stopped the cultists too,” Supergirl says, proudly. “Found them unconscious in that energy well. And you knocked out Reign. Made capturing her easy.”
“She did get feisty during the administering of the antidote,” Lena adds. She smiles tentatively, but her eyes still shine with a deep worry and sadness. “but we handled it.”
The tears in Lena’s eyes hurt to see. To know that Sam — even if it was some creepy alien possession using her body — caused that hurt? How much did it hurt her daughter too? How will they recover?
She wants to go home and hug Ruby, to reassure her that she’s back for good this time. To return to being just a CFO for Lena’s company. Back to her singleton self — as Lena often calls her.
But first, she wants to wipe away that worry from her best friend’s face.
“What can I say?” Sam jokes. “I just got that killing punch.” Her joke falls flat, and she ends up in tears instead. Who is she kidding? She can’t ever go back to the way things were after this. Her hands are stained now, even if it was another entity that used them for evil.
Lena holds her, gently rocking her. “Let it out, Sam. You’re safe now.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sam whispers. She clings to Lena and huddles under the warmth of the red cape. “All this horror? All those people dead?”
“Hey, that wasn’t you.” Lena strokes her hair. “Don’t take on the crimes of another.”
“She’s right,” Supergirl says, gently. “Reign was forced onto you against your will. You are a victim. A survivor in this. And in time, you will heal. Take it in steps.”
Sam takes a shuddering breath. Those words are ones she’s often said to Lena. What had once been abstract prior, now blossoms into a deep understanding. Lena may not be trapped in a nightmare realm when other alters front, but the pain and fear that amnesiac moments cause? Sam understands now.
And now she can do better. For herself, Lena, and Ruby. To find a new path forward.
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hellfirenacht · 10 months ago
Text
Reader ==> Go Shopping For Appropriate 80's Clothes
lsekai Chronicles Master List
START HERE <<-- FIRST CHAPTER HERE
Recommended Previous Chapter: ==> Meet The Party
Chapter Summary: You go shopping, think about morality, and run into a familiar face.
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Cash is king. That’s how the old saying went, right? You’d heard that since you were a kid and had taken it to heart. Plus if you carried cash, that was money that your bank account didn’t know about so if you bought something it didn’t count. That’s just basic math.
It had been payday the night you had fallen into Hawkins, and you had managed to go to the bank that day, pulling out a couple hundred from your paycheck that you had planned to stick in your piggy bank at home for a rainy day. That handful of 20s was sitting uselessly in your wallet, and you knew that you needed to do something not super legal soon.
You couldn’t keep secretly borrowing clothes from the Wheeler family. It was starting to feel weird and uncomfortable. You needed your own clothing and soon.
It was the middle of the week and Ted was at work, Karen had taken Holly to the pool, and who knows where Mike and Nancy were. That was fine with you, in the five days that you had managed to hide in the home you’d quickly figured out the schedules. You hated it though, and you knew you’d need to find a new place to live soon.
Being out of the house helped. You managed to get a feel for the layout of the neighborhood and now made the long trek to the downtown area where there were shops. Your stomach twisted at what you had to do, as you tried to tell yourself it wasn’t that illegal.
It was still technically US legal tender. Would be. Maybe? You had flipped through the 20s in your wallet and picked out the oldest and most crumpled looking bills you could find to use first for things you needed and had crumpled the rest by hand in an attempt to distract the teller from what you were about to do.
God you wish you had a car. It was hot in August, and you were already sweating through your borrowed shirt, and you desperately needed a toothbrush and some deodorant that didn’t smell like teenage boy.
It was just after noon when you arrived downtown, feeling out of place.
Guess I better get used to it. You thought to yourself.
With the Starcourt Mall burned down, your only choice was a handful of local shops and thrift stores. Thrifting would be the best bet, maybe you could spend one of your twenties on maybe a pair of pants and a new shirt if you were lucky.
Shoulder pads. Shoulderpads and blazers as far as the eye could see.
You flipped through the rack of clothing, the second hand shop you found was filled with clothing that was already dated by 1985 standards, and so with your 2023 style it was pretty far out of your wheelhouse.
You wish you had a friend in this world. Yeah, Dustin and Mike had been nice to you and letting you hide out until you could find a more permanent place to stay but they were kids. You weren’t gonna add any additional stress on them when they were already trying to help you. And there was no way you were gonna ask them for fashion advice.
...Okay you were tempted to ask Dustin where he got his Weird Al shirt that he was wearing that first night. There was a comfort that the singer was a link to all weirdos and nerds in any decade.
It took all afternoon, sorting through the racks for clothes that fit you, felt like your style, and (hopefully) helped you blend into this world. Seeing the prices made you want to cry, realizing that you could afford the few pieces of clothing easily.
Right, things were cheaper in the 80s. You add that to the mental tally of ‘reasons to stay vs reasons to try and go home’ list you were keeping in your mind.
Stay. Go. Could you even go home? Did you want to? There was a way here, so there had to be a way back. If a portal opened up and you were able to jump through it right now and end up home would you take it?
The logical part of you said yes, that would be the smart move. Shit was going to hit the fan in a few months and it would be dangerous for you to be here, you could end up dead or worse. Finding a way home should be your priority, or at least getting out of Hawkins.
But there was another part of you, a part that lived in the back of your mind, that was saying something different. Four people were destined to die, and what if you could change that?
What was your responsibility to this world? To these strangers?
Every time you thought about anything harder than your immediate needs your stomach twisted into a knot. You couldn’t think about that, not yet. There were months before this was supposed to happen, right? And you wouldn’t be of help to anyone as a homeless time traveler with out of place fashion.
But those questions were what you kept coming back to as you made your way to another shop to get yourself some toiletries and underwear. You tried to focus on anything else, the songs on the radio you recognized, the brands in the store you didn’t, the people around you-
Well, that last part didn’t work out for you as you ran smack into someone head on. You dropped the tooth brush, toothpaste, and 8 pack of value underwear that you were holding and scrambled to pick them up.
“Shit, sorry-” you started, grabbing for the toothpaste that was closest to you while the person you ran into grabbed the value pack.
You stood up, and your face paled at the young man you had run into.
“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the aisle like that.” Steve Harrington said, as he handed you your underwear back.
Philosophy aside, you decided that if a portal opened up you’d hop in no matter where it led you.
You grabbed the pack out of his hands, nearly dropping the toothpaste again in the process.
Before you could say anything else, you heard someone call Steve’s name and you booked it the second he turned around, leaving the toothbrush on the ground.
This was stupid, you knew that it was. There was no reason for you to be panicking like this, but when you saw him you didn’t know what else to do. Meeting him again was inevitable, and you knew that. He was friends with Dustin and the rest of the Party. You ducked into the clearance section and tried to calm your breathing.
Jesus Christ, he’d handed you back the underwear that you were about to buy. Had this been any other situation, with any random stranger it wouldn’t have mattered. You would have just gone about the rest of your day and not even thought about it unless the other person made a weird remark.
But this wasn’t just anyone, this was Steve Harrington. You couldn’t afford to fuck up any relationship with any of these people if you were going to help.
You were going to help, right? That’s what a good person would do.
Steve Harrington has a hairy chest. Your brain offered up helpfully, providing an image for you. No brain, that was not helpful, actually. Of all the information you could remember about Steve, it was THAT?
You rubbed your face and decided to check out before anything else happened. You found the aisle with the least interested looking teen and handed over the crumpled bill, holding your breath as they didn’t even look at the bill before ringing you up.
You stood outside the shop with your haul shoved in your backpack. Your D&D books were being borrowed by the boys, and you somehow doubted you’d see them again any time soon.
Now what?
Tumblr User ==> Now what?
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