#i have been in so much pain since yesterday morning and it’s only getting worse

[rainswept]

those praying on my downfall you’re winning 😞🙏

[yamujiburo]

Here's an arc I thought about doing but won't do because, it'd be a bit too sad and also it's too similar to the Turing Point Arc I already did and also it would be long. But I'll write it here for you angst enjoyers. This ended up being longer than I thought.

Despite getting the "okay" from Ash to date Jessie, Delia still worries that she's not doing the right thing or being a bad mom. Up until now she'd convinced herself that she had the right to be selfish for once after knowing only sacrifice and putting herself last.

Jessie and Ash, while not as antagonistic towards each other, still go at it. A Pikachu zap here, an angry "twerp" being uttered there. The guilt settles in for Delia and figures that it's best to just cut things off before things potentially get worse or before she gets too attached to Jessie. Her son comes first after all. That's what she signed up for when becoming a parent.

She sits Jessie down, eyes watery (it's the first time Jessie's ever seen Delia come close to crying). Delia says she thinks they should end things. Jessie is stunned but accepts it quickly. She sucks it up in the moment, puts a resigned smile on her face and tells Delia she'll leave immediately and not to worry about her. Delia's also broken up about it but promised herself she'd never cry over a goodbye and she wasn't gonna start now.

Jessie goes to James and Meowth's place greeted similarly to this, lightly teasing her about blowing it with Delia, and she breaks down sobbing. Oops it's real this time. James and Meowth do everything in their power to make her feel better. They let her know that things like this happen and they're ready to go wherever she wants to go (knowing that it'd likely be to painful for her to stay in Pallet). As much as she wants to leave, she doesn't want James and Meowth to lose the good thing they have going. She's not in the right headspace to make any decisions so she'll get to it later.

Ash returns home after doing a little training at Oak's lab. He notices Jessie's not around and asks his mom where she is. Delia is about to tell him but can't quite bring herself to say the truth out loud yet. She simply says "I don't know". Ash looks disappointed. "Aw man, I wanted to see if she wanted to battle. She makes a good battle buddy for all of my newer, baby Pokémon." Delia perks up that this. As quickly as he came, he leaves again to go train his Pokémon.

Later, Delia approaches Ash, asking him if he really meant that what he said about Jessie being a good battle partner. He gives her an enthusiastic "yeah!" and tells her that it's been nice having another battle ready trainer around since there's not many in Pallet. Delia starts to pry a little more. "I thought you and Jessie didn't get along?" Ash is confused, and tells Delia they get along great! "Jessie doesn't steal anymore! And she's getting better at battling which is cool." Delia brings up that she's head them argue before. "Oh... well I guess that's just how we are. I'd be weirded out if she was suddenly too nice to me all the time. Jessie's actually a lot like Misty. But taller!" This gives Delia a lot to think about but what's done is done and it's no use pressing on. It's easier this way.

The next morning Delia's getting ready for work. She must not have noticed that she was acting weird but Ash picks up on it. "What's wrong mom?" Delia's shocked he noticed (he's not usually this perceptive). She tells him it's nothing and that she just slept bad. "Hm. But Jessie says that when you're upset you get really quiet and intense." Delia notices that she was pretty intensely mixing the pancake batter. "Jessie told you that?" Ash nods. "Hey speaking of, where is Jessie? Haven't seen her since yesterday." Delia stops mixing and tells Ash that she and Jessie aren't together anymore. Ash is confused and upset at the idea of Jessie doing something that would hurt his mom enough for them to break up. Delia lets him know that Jessie didn't do anything like that and that them breaking up was just for the best. But Ash questions this, pointing out that he's never seen Delia as happy as she was when Jessie was there and also how Delia looks really sad now. Delia can't argue with that but then tells him that it's complicated. Ash, to Delia's surprise, looks a bit disappointed. He's bummed he wasn't able to say goodbye first and asks if she thinks Jessie would still be willing to come by and train with him sometimes. Delia asks him once more if he was really okay with her and Jessie dating. "Yeah I thought I said that already? Jessie's pretty cool when she's not being evil. And she really likes Pokémon which is a plus!" Such simple criteria. Delia's now worried that she might've made a mistake. She finishes making breakfast and heads to work.

At the restaurant she's met by James. She can feel an awkwardness hanging in the air. She knows that James knows. Before she can say anything James tells Delia thank you for employing him and helping him, Meowth and Jessie get back on their feet but that he's going to quit working at the restaurant and that they'll likely be leaving Pallet soon. Delia's heart sinks. There's now a ticking clock and she has to decide what she wants to do SOON. She asks James where Jessie is. James hesitantly tells her that she's at his and Meowth's place. Delia pleads with James to work the restaurant for one more day at least and to cover this shift. She has to go talk to Jessie. He agrees, hoping that this is a good thing.

Delia runs to James and Meowth's place. She knocks on the door upon arrival and waits. It takes a moment but she hears the door unlock. Jessie opens the door, disheveled, tears and snot all over her face, draped in a blanket. Jessie notices it's Delia and, frightened, slams the door. Delia's stunned for a moment and goes to knock on the door again but before she can the door opens. This time Jessie's tears are gone, her hair's fixed and she ditched the blanket. "Oh hey, Delia! What brings you here?" Delia can't help but be charmed. But this is serious. She shakes it off and asks if they could talk. Jessie invites her in. They get to the couch and Jessie starts frantically cleaning up all the crumpled tissues and dirty dishes off the ground. "Heh I caught a cold yesterday. A one day cold. I'm fine now." Delia doesn't call out the obvious lie and gets straight to the point.

She tells Jessie that she's worried she made a mistake. She made a panicked decision that she was hoping would protect Ash and her future self. But now realizes that she was afraid of the idea that she'd made a selfish decision by dating her. It was a selfish decision but that didn't mean it was a bad one. She was the happiest she'd been, Jessie and Ash were learning to get along and were getting along much better than she'd though. She acknowledges that Jessie has been there for Ash in a way that she can't quite be and is also grateful to her for managing to keep Ash home a little longer. She asks if Jessie would be willing to take her back (despite the distress she caused). Jessie starts sobbing with happy tears. She tearfully says she'll try even harder to get along with Ash and be a better person. Delia reassures her that she's doing just fine.

They kiss passionately but then realize it's weird that they're making out in James in Meowth's place and say they'll continue later. Delia tells Jessie to head back home and that Ash is looking forward to battling with her (and she also needs to let James and Meowth not to quit their jobs).

The end~

[novemberheart]

{overview} You get a promising call from Simon. You get offered a job.

{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, innuendoes, soapgaz

Chapter 29 <- Chapter 30 -> Chapter 31

“I have a hand that works, you know?” He half-teased. The said hand was resting against your hip, making no move to leave.

“I like doing this for you,” you replied, holding another bite of mashed potatoes in front of his face. Kyle made a face- not at you but at all the carbs that have been shoved in his face the last few days. He was able to leave the hospital yesterday, all the traveling nearly undoing all the progress he had made. He adjusted himself on the couch, a pained groan escaping him.

“Would help if you didn’t have to move all the time,” you whined, his groan making you wince.

There had been quite a few differences from when Simon was hurt. With Simon you were unattached, with Kyle you felt everything. Not physically, all the pain you felt had been self imposed from feeling bad for him. That only made you feel worse when Kyle pushed down his pain to comfort you.

“Do you want to sit out on the patio tomorrow? It’ll be sunny.” You hummed, walking back over to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

“Didn’t you just get onto me for moving?” He chuckled, trying to slyly get comfortable on the couch again.

“Yeah, but this will improve your mood,” you shot back.

“I’m alright,” he yawned, running a hand over his face. “Just need my girl,” it was so quiet you almost didn’t catch it. You smiled, bounding back over to him. You just got comfortable when your phone went off.

“Simon?” You questioned. There was a sigh on the other line. They had all only gotten a few days off at the hospital, Simon and John being shipped back out to where they were, Johnny filling in for Kyle after he helped transport him back to base.

“Pup,” he mumbled. “You being good?” He hummed.

“About as good as you,” you snickered back.

“Not what I like to hear,” he tsked back. “Your fever go away?”

“It broke this morning. Hasn’t been back since,” you explained, curling up against Kyle’s good side. The pressure and exertion of trying to heal Kyle had caused you to have a near constant fever. “I went out with Anais and Jane yesterday,” you continued.

“Talk to me,” he grumbled. You heard some adjusting on the other line. You wondered where he was. What it looked like. If it was cold or hot. You weren’t even sure if it was day or night.

“We just walked around in the rain yesterday. Vernie likes that rain. She got all wet and muddy,” you yawned. Even just knowing Simon was there made you relaxed. “Simon?”

“Yes, pup?”

“What does it look like where you are?” You questioned quietly. You expected him to shut you down, especially after his sigh.

“You wouldn’t like it, pretty girl,” he replied. “Bare and hot.”

“Is it nighttime?”

“Early morning,” he murmured. You could hear him yawn. You seemed to be relaxing him too.

“I miss you,” you mumbled.

“You’re a tough girl,” he assured. You whined against Kyle, his good hand resting on the back of your head. Why couldn’t he say he missed you? Maybe he didn’t. Yet why would he call you?

“Bye, Simon. Get some sleep,” you mumbled, hanging up.

“Don’t take it personal,” Kyle spoke. He had fallen asleep during the interaction, still filled up with pain medication. Your whine had woken him up.

“Sorry for waking you,” you soothed, cuddling under his chin. Your phone started ringing again.

“What’d I say about hanging up on your alphas?” His voice was rumbly and went straight through you. “Hmmm?” He pressed.

“Not to do it,” you mumbled back.

“I’ll be home in a week,” he told. “I’ll show you how much I miss you then.”

He hung up. Giving you no opportunity to respond. Your mouth fell open, a warm storm beginning in your lower stomach.

“Thanks Simon,” Kyle grumbled, your melted scent making the hairs on his arm stand up.

There was a soft knock at your door, making Kyle’s eyes flash open. He’s been skittish since he’s been back. You weren’t sure if it had to do with the accident, or the fact he was your only line of protection should something happen while the others were away.

“Just Anais,” you soothed, pressing a kiss against his heated forehead. You pulled yourself out of his arms, his grip on you unrelenting. Vernie followed you to the door. “We’re going to go for a walk!” You shouted, grabbing Vernie’s leash.

“I’ll be watching you!” He shouted back, making you roll your eyes. So bloody protective.

“Hey, beautiful,” you smiled opening the door.

“Hello my beautiful girls,” she cheered, a wide smile lighting up her face. She eyed both you and Vernie, the puppies teeth already digging into the toe of her shoe.

“Vernie,” you whined, pulling her away. Anais just giggled.

“Hi Kyle!” She shouted. You turned, seeing Kyle’s arm waving as far as he could reach.

“Hey, Anais,” he greeted. “You girls be safe!” He pressed.

“Dammit, no talking to strangers,” you cursed, closing the door behind you. Anais giggled, interlocking her arm with yours. Jane was waiting by the elevator. You wondered when she would stop being so shy with you. You supposed she has come a long way since you first met. You should just be satisfied that she looks happy to see you.

“We have exciting news!” Anais practically shrieked.

“Oh really?” you hummed, pressing the close elevator button.

“Remember when we entered that baking contest and won?” She questioned.

“We got third place,” Jane corrected a furrow in her thick brows.

“That’s a win to me,” Anais shot back. “Anyways the person who ran the contest, he was also one of the judges- the one with the spikey hair- anyway he's opening a small bakery just outside of base and he asked if we wanted to work there. It would only be open on the weekend, but we'd have to come in on Fridays and get some baking done,” Anais explained. Something in your stomach didn't feel right. Your cupcakes had been so good that someone wanted to hire you? You barely even placed. Maybe the two other teams rejected his offer.

“I don't know if my alphas will let me have a job,” you replied honestly. Omegas working were uncommon. You had to have an alpha sign-off on it. Omegas weren't allowed to have bank accounts either- well without alpha approval. That doesn't even include the act of convincing your alphas to let you go off base, by yourself, working for a man they've never met. It didn't seem feasible.

“Well, can you at least try?” Anais pleaded.

You suppose you could.

“It's really not even working. Just five hours for three days. Fifteen bucks an hour,” Jane added.

“Sounds like he just wants cheap labor,” you sighed. You felt bad once you saw Anais' face turn. “Sorry,” you apologized. “I’ll talk to them, okay? I promise,” you swore. The happy smile returned to her face.

It might be a good thing. Getting out of the house a bit. It would provide you with some sense of routine. You would also be able to make a bit of cash and you would be with Anais and Jane.

It might be a good thing.

“Do you think John and Simon would let me get a job?” you asked. Kyle choked on his tea.

“Why do you need that?” he questioned, wiping his mouth.

“Spending money?” you teased.

“That's what mine and Johnny’s paycheck is for,” he huffed back. He leaned down, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. “I can say without a doubt they would not let you have a job, sweetheart,” he sighed.

“You don't even know what the job is,” you whined.

“Lovie, it could be popping bubble wrap and they wouldn't let you,” he reminded. “What is it though?”

“At a bakery. It's with Anais and Jane too. Just for five hours, Friday and the weekends,” you explained.

“Fridays are Johnny's “day off” you know he’ll pitch a fit,” Kyle reminded. It wasn’t really his day off, just the days he worked the night shift so he got to spend the day with you- instead of sleeping like he should. “What would you be doing? Baking or selling?” Kyle continued.

“We’d all be doing a bit of everything,” you explained.

“So it’s a new business?”

“Yeah.”

“Off-base?” he questioned, making you chuckle nervously. This would be the final nail in the coffin.

“Yes,” you sighed.

“Might be better actually,” he sighed. Your eyes widened.

“Really?!” you gasped.

“Yeah. The clientele will be way different. Won’t be a bunch of worked-up alphas going just to please their omegas. Instead, it’ll be families with kids and people with boring office jobs.”

Why didn't you think of that?

“You think I have a shot?” you pressed, your hands resting on his good knee.

“Not saying that,” he mumbled. He winced when you saw your face scrunch. His hand rested on the back of your head. “You might though, lovie,” he soothed.

You gasped when the front lock clicked. You could hear Kyle shuffling in the living area, like he was trying to sit up. Johnny poked his head in, a happy smile on his face when he caught sight of you.

“Macky!” you shrieked, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chuckled, his hands grabbing the back of your thighs hoisting you up.

“Missed you,” he growled, his teeth playfully nipping at your jaw. He walked you both over to the couch, flopping down with you pinned under him. He purred low in his chest, your scent mixing perfectly with Kyles. The two of you must've been inseparable. Speaking of Kyle, his hand rested on the back of the Scot’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine. “How’s the patient doin’?” he smirked, pressing a kiss against the frown adoring Kyle’s face.

“Was peaceful,” he sighed, going wide-eyed as his lips got caught with Johnny’s. He quickly relaxed, his hand gripping the back of Johnny’s mohawk. They both groaned, sending a shiver down to your toes. You were broken from your trance by the sound of a quiet thud. You looked over the back of the couch, watching as John kicked off his boots. You quickly slunk down not wanting to be seen. Guilt ate away at you as soon as you did it.

You two had made up- kind of. Yet, you wondered if it was just because you were feeling so weak at the time. You dabbed at your eyes, hearing the sound of his bedroom door closing. He had made no effort to greet you. Maybe because he was so hurt you didn't even notice he was there.

Or maybe he was having second thoughts too. Maybe he was caught in a moment of weakness when he apologized to you. What if he lied to you? What if he just said all those things in the hospital to keep you from spiraling so you could focus on healing Kyle? What if he was still just using you to heal his pack?

You couldn't live like this. You pulled yourself off the couch, the heated betas finally pulling away from each other, watching with careful eyes as you approached their alphas- your alpha's door.

His heart was like stone in his chest. If it wasn't for the teeth-gritting pain in his chest he would be completely numb. You didn't even look at him and you went out of your way to hide when you saw him coming. He felt sick. That sickness grew when he opened his bedroom door his eyes immediately falling on the one thing he hoped he wouldn't see.

Your nest was gone.

There was no trace of you in his room. In the whole time he's been away you hadn't stepped foot in it. He bit back a whine, his thumbs clawed at his sore eyes.

There was a soft knock on his door. He sighed, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. He assumed it would be Johnny, checking up on him or asking if they could order a pizza.

You stared at him, a little nervous. His breath hitched, his first reaction to grip you as tight as he could and apologize profusely until you loved him again.

Did you still love him?

Could you?

Your eyes welled up at the sight of him. He was exhausted, beaten down by the world and you. You didn't want to prolong this anymore. The hurt and sadness. He had been punished enough. You forced yourself forward, your arms reaching up towards his neck.

“Alpha,” you whined. His knees felt like giving out and your mind instantly shut off when he tucked you into the safety of his arms. He shut his bedroom door with his foot, his large hands gripping onto any part of you he could reach. He pressed you against the mattress, his body covering every inch of you. He murmured against you, soft apologies, honest compliments, and assurances. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. He shook his head against your neck.

“I need my omega back, pretty girl,” He sighed. His teeth scraped against the spot he envisioned his mark going. Your heart twisted. Your hand gripped the hair at the base of his neck, pulling his face up to yours. Your placed an experimental kiss against his lips, which he deepened.

You felt complete again.

Hi friends!!!! Hope you liked this next chapter! 🧡See you in three days for Chapter 31! And let me know…….how long would it have taken you to get over the situation with John? Lots of love!

[goosita]

trying to work when you're sick as young!politician!snow's secretary would be hard, but not for the reason you might think

you've been sniffling since yesterday afternoon, but this morning when you woke up, you felt like you'd been hit by a train. every muscle in your body was sore, your throat hurt, your nose was running and you could tell you had at least a lowgrade fever. you glanced at your alarm clock next to your bed and groaned, seeing that you'd woken up just a little while before it was set to go off anyway.

you thought about calling in sick, but you've never done it before. were you supposed to call....coriolanus? directly? he was your only boss, you worked solely for him. but that thought made you feel even worse than your illness did. you knew that he had a busy day today full of meetings and work calls, and that you needed to be there to help organize his schedule. you couldn't stand the thought of disappointing him.

you sucked it up and took the hottest shower you could stand in efforts to clear your sinuses and stop the fever-induced chills wracking your body every few minutes. you knew coriolanus liked for you to look put-together in pretty dresses and heels, but today you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. you dressed in a loose blouse and pair of wide-leg trousers that felt comfortable enough, shoving your feet into flat shoes. good enough.

so now here you are, bundled in your sweater you keep at the office and trying hard to manifest that nobody will notice your red and raw nose or your watery eyes, least of all coriolanus. the wish goes ungranted, prayer unanswered as he strolls in and immediately stops and stares at you.

"what's wrong?" he asks.

"oh, um. just a little cold," you answer, voice nasally and much lower in pitch than normal. coriolanus frowns at you and shrugs his coat off, hanging it up and walking straight over to you to press the back of his hand to your forehead.

"you're burning up."

his lips turn down even further, not noticing the way you freeze at his sudden touch. coriolanus has been a lot more...touchy with you lately, but even still, this amount of concern is unexpected. his brows furrow at you, looking at you for a long moment. he carefully brushes your hair out of your face, looking over you and taking note of your outfit and general state. you can tell he notices that you've dressed much more comfortably than you usually would, and that your face is makeup-free and hair left at simply brushed through to undo any tangles.

"up," he tells you, gently lifting you out of your chair by your elbow.

"what?"

"let's get you home," he says gently, rubbing a warm and heavy hand up and down your back. "you're in no shape to be here today. i'll have my driver take you back to your apartment."

you look at him confused, unsure what to say. you're not sure if he's upset that you're sick or if he's more worried for your wellbeing, but it makes you anxious that he's acting so abrupt and unceremonious, almost as if you being sick is putting him on edge.

"coryo...?" you ask quietly. he freezes where he stands, having gone to grab your jacket off the coatrack. you watch as his entire demeanor softens.

"yes, miss y/n?"

you swallow hard, wincing at the pain it causes in your throat. "are...are you upset with me?"

coriolanus' eyebrows draw inward and upward at your question, quickly shaking his head.

"oh, no. no, of course not," he breathes, rushing over to help you slide into your coat. "i'm worried about you is all. i don't want you making yourself sicker by being here today, you're clearly very unwell. it's not your fault you're ill."

he carefully zips up your coat, grabbing his red scarf from the rack as well. before you can protest, he's draping it around your neck and tying it.

"for extra warmth," he explains. "it's freezing out there today."

the scarf is so soft where it's tucked beneath your chin, instantly adding more warmth where you need it. coriolanus gives you a tiny smile, lips closed but small dimple appearing at the corner of his mouth.

you're led to the car by him, his hand resting between your shoulder blades the entire time. coriolanus opens the car door for you to slide into the back seat, instructing his driver to take you home and make sure you get into your apartment safe and sound. his voice holds so much authority when he speaks to the driver, a deepness and sternness that's never present when he's addressing you.

by the time you reach your apartment and climb the steps up, there are several beautifully packaged boxes waiting for you at your door, as well as a single red, long-stemmed rose. you tilt your head and bring them inside, opening them one by one to find that coriolanus has had soup, bread, and medicine delivered to you. attached to the rose by a red satin ribbon is a note that simply reads:

"get well soon, darling"

[kikyo-writes]

"I like you, okay?!"

summary: katsuki struggles to confess to his crush.

tags: fluff, fem!reader

Katsuki is good at a lot of things, but when it comes to romance, he is a hopeless fool.  

In his defense, it’s not his fault. He’s spent the vast majority of his life focusing on one goal and one goal only—honing his Quirk so that he can become the Number One Hero. And he always thought that his attention would never sway, free of any unnecessary distractions.  

Until he met you.  

At the start of the first year at U.A, Katsuki didn’t think much of you. Well, he didn’t think much of any of his classmates, for that matter, but slowly but surely, the days passed, and he found his gaze lingering on you for a lot longer than he would’ve liked to admit.  

Katsuki tries to deny it at first. Something about you makes him feel... off. He's not sure why his chest gets uncomfortably tight when you speak to him, and it also doesn’t make any sense why his face heats up like never before. Maybe he’s sick, but if that were really the case, then he’s somehow been sick for the past few months.  

It takes someone else’s meddling for Katsuki to finally put the pieces together.  

“So, Bakugou, what’s up with you and [Name]?” Kaminari asks. “It feels like you treat her a bit differently than everyone else. Do you have a crush on her or something?”  

Kaminari was half-joking, but when Katsuki’s cheeks flush a deep shade of crimson—enough to rival his piercing eyes—everyone around him gasps.  

“Dude,” Kirishima chuckles. “No way. You actually like her, huh?”  

“The hell I do!” Katsuki immediately snaps back, but his voice cracks, and based on the way everyone smirks at him, he can tell he must not be very convincing.  

Kaminari grins. “Wow, I hit the nail right on the head! You’ve gotta confess, man! [Name]’s really popular, so if you wait around too long, someone else might beat you to it!”  

“You idiots are out of your damn minds,” Katsuki grits out, and without wasting a beat, he shoves his hands in his pockets and stomps off.  

They’re just being stupid like always. Seriously, him, having a crush on someone? The Bakugou Katsuki? As if he has the time or energy to waste on mushy shit like that. It’s so ridiculous he’s almost tempted to laugh.  

But then he takes a moment to consider Kaminari’s words.  

“If you wait around too long, someone else might beat you to it.”  

Katsuki isn’t sure why, but he briefly imagines you being asked out by another person, someone who isn’t him. He imagines you laughing with them, hooking your arm around theirs, and last but certainly not least, leaning forward to meet them in a kiss.  

The image evokes a visceral reaction from him, and in that moment, he swears his heart nearly stops beating. 

And then comes the realization.  

Oh, fuck.  

He’s in deep shit.  

As much as Katsuki would like to say that he’s made progress since realizing that he likes you, that unfortunately isn’t the case.  

If anything, the self-awareness has just made things worse. Before, he could at least talk to you like a semi-normal person, but now, your interactions usually go something like this:  

“Good morning, Katsuki,” you greet. “How’d you do on yesterday’s assignment? To be honest, I was kind of rushing to finish it on time. It felt like it was harder than usual.”  

Katsuki parts his lips to respond, but the longer he stares at you, the faster his heart races.  

He ends up walking away out of sheer embarrassment.  

“Man,” Kirishima sighs. “That was painful to watch.”

“Shut up!” Katsuki hisses. “What the fuck do you want me to do?!”  

“Just be normal. Be yourself.” Kirishima pauses for a few moments. “Actually... maybe that’s not the best advice.”  

“Oh, piss off!"  

It goes on like this for a while. Every time you engage him in casual, friendly conversation, Katsuki finds himself freezing up completely. It’s ironic, because he has the confidence to take on fearsome villains with ease, and yet this is what has him scared shitless.  

Goddammit. Katsuki never realized that liking someone would be such a test of his strength.  

Unfortunately, he’s too caught up in his own feelings that he doesn’t stop to consider how all of this looks from your perspective.  

“Katsuki,” you approach him one day, and for some reason, you’re frowning. “Hey. Can you please be honest with me? Did I do something to upset you, or what? Because it feels like you’ve been ignoring me lately.”  

He blinks. “What? No. If I had a problem with you, I’d tell you.”  

“Well, that’s what I thought too. So then... why do you keep avoiding me? Does it just bore you having to listen to me talk?”  

Hardly. Katsuki could probably listen to you talk for hours upon hours without getting bored. You have a pretty face, a pretty voice, and whenever you smile or laugh, it makes him want to do the same.  

It suddenly dawns on him that this is probably the best chance he’ll get. It’ll be bad news if he lets this misunderstanding drag out any further. He doesn’t want you to think that you don’t like him, because that’s the furthest thing from the truth.  

Come on. He can do this. He’s Bakugou Katsuki, for fuck’s sake. It’s time to stop acting like a coward and own up to how he feels.  

“I,” Katsuki starts shakily, “I...”  

You raise a brow. “You...?”  

“I...”  

“...?”  

Holy shit, this is so much harder than he anticipated. He’ll take a punch to the face over a confession any day of the week.  

But no, he can’t give up, goddammit! Again, he’s Bakugou Katsuki! Resident badass! The (self-proclaimed) future Number One Hero! 

The words feel like bile rushing up his esophagus, and even though they burn like hell, he finally, finally manages to spit them out.  

“I like you, okay?!”  

He did it. He’s violently flushed in the face and keeps having to gasp to reclaim his breath, but at long last, the truth is out in the open.  

And now for the part that he didn’t even stop to consider. Seeing how you'll react.  

“Oh,” you blink in response. You’re visibly taken aback, and you clear your throat, stopping to ponder your next words. “Well, that’s—”  

“Shut up, shut up, shut up! I don’t want to hear it!”  

Katsuki books it the hell out of there before he can hear what you have to say. He supposes he’s unlocked a new fear: rejection. The way he handled this whole situation is lame, it’s childish as hell, and he knows it, but when it comes to this stuff, it looks like he’s much more of a coward than he first thought.  

Meanwhile, you giggle softly as you watch him run off.  

“What a dork. He didn’t even wait for me to say I like him back.”  

[bellaxgiornata]

Cabbage & Tears

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Mom!Reader Word Count: 2.3k [Collection Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: breastfeeding, postpartum hormones, emotional hurt/comfort, and a little sweet Matty fluff

Summary: For the past week since Matt and you had both been home with your newborn, you've been struggling with the initial drop in your hormones post-birth and breastfeeding. But tonight you finally hit a new low while Matt is out.

a/n: I'm attempting to keep these "blurbs" (I know, this one is more of the length of a one shot) as realistic to postpartum and pregnancy experiences as possible. Also, Matt was too perfect for this idea with his senses. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Collection Tag List: @danzer8705 @glowstick-lesbian @flowher @geminadeckerwritesstuff @shiorimakibawrites @beezusvreeland @ebathory997 @maryyymothhh @4happilyeverafter @sleepysleepymom @kezibear @charmedkim @midnightramble @carolinaxvz @1988-fiend @marcysbear

Sliding the bedroom door shut carefully after yourself, you held your breath in anticipation of the oncoming high-pitched wails from behind the solid wood door. It had become quite the familiar sound in the apartment over the past week now ever since you and Matt had brought your baby boy home from the hospital.

Standing entirely still at the door for a good few seconds, you continued to hold your breath, your hands still grasping the door handle in case you needed to head back into the bedroom to comfort your week old newborn. It was a long moment before you dared to finally take a breath in, the tension leaving your muscles when the apartment wasn't suddenly filled with the sound of a newborn crying again. Releasing a sigh of relief, you were satisfied that you'd finally managed to get the baby down to sleep for a bit tonight. 

Hands falling away from the door, you glanced down at your chest. Your breasts were sore and engorged, pain radiating through them as they sat confined in your nursing bra. For the past two days you had been struggling with the increased milk production that your son's recent cluster feeding had brought on. Now the next chore you needed to tackle on your list since you finally had a free moment was to unclog the milk ducts that you swore were leading you straight towards mastitis. From what you'd read about the infection online, and from how you'd been feeling further run down since you'd woken this morning, you figured you were already teetering dangerously on the cusp of it.

Slowly shuffling your way towards the kitchen on bare feet in the silent apartment, the light from the billboard across the street illuminating the space in tones of purple, you felt a wave of unprompted sadness wash over you. Truthfully you'd had these random moments of feeling absolutely miserable ever since giving birth, even if you were still overwhelmingly happy and in love with Matt and your new little addition. But now you weren't sleeping well through the night with the baby here, even if Matt was awake helping you as much as he could. And the over-the-counter medication that you were able to take only mildly helped to relieve the pain you were still experiencing in the aftermath of childbirth. Not to mention, having to wear the equivalent of a diaper afterwards in front of Matt had only made you feel worse about yourself and your changed body.

You knew all the crying you'd been doing lately was due to the significant drop in your hormones that you'd been warned about. The ones that made you an emotional mess far more than you'd ever been on just your period alone. You'd spent most of yesterday at home with the baby just periodically sobbing while Matt was at the office, and more than half the time you were aware the tears were unnecessary. You hadn't wanted Matt to know that you'd been crying at home though, so you'd done your best to fight the melancholic feelings back once it neared time for him to return from work that evening. If he somehow had picked up on the fact that you'd been crying with his heightened senses, he hadn't said anything. 

You had been determined not to bother him with your problems–something you'd been doing ever since you'd first found out that you were pregnant. Your problems just seemed trivial in comparison to what he was dealing with at the law firm and as Daredevil. So you kept pretending like you were fine, pulling out your usual tricks to keep Matt's senses from detecting any lies. Which was why you'd practically urged him to go out again tonight. You knew there was something big going on in the city and he was clearly itching to deal with it, and you had wanted some time alone to stop pretending that you were fine–and so you could deal with your clogged milk ducts while crying in peace. So you’d promised him that you had no issue watching the baby for a few hours more by yourself while he went out. 

And now that you were really alone, you felt the tears coming again as you stopped in the kitchen. Opening the fridge door, you carefully bent down towards the vegetable drawer and tried to ignore the pain shooting through your body at the movement. Reaching your hand into the drawer, you pulled out the produce bag which contained a fresh head of cabbage. 

Gently closing the fridge door with the produce bag in hand, a few tears slipping out of your eyes and trailing warm tracks down your cheeks, you brought the cabbage over to the counter by the sink. Feeling pathetic with what you were about to do as the tears began to pick up their pace, you began to tear a few leaves from off the head of cabbage. Switching on the nearby faucet, you rinsed them briefly under cold water as a choked sob fell out of you. 

You'd already tried many things for the clogged ducts by now, most of which seemed to prove fruitless. Warm compresses, hand expression, steamy showers, bags of ice on your chest throughout the day. You'd even desperately grabbed your vibrator and used it to massage your breasts in the hopes of breaking the clog and finding relief after some tips you'd read online, but nothing had really worked. Now you were so desperate that you'd had a head of cabbage delivered to the apartment this evening–which had woken the baby as he'd just been about to fall asleep on you an hour ago–to try what amounted to an old wives tale. But you were desperate for relief, so here you were willing to stuff leaves of cold, damp cabbage into your nursing bra.

As you stood by the sink adjusting the leaves in your bra, you felt like you'd hit a new low. The tears continued to fall despite the comforting chill of the cabbage that was reducing the burning ache of your breasts. With a sigh you readjusted your shirt before putting the rest of the head of cabbage back into the produce bag. 

Turning and heading back over to the fridge, you placed the bag back into the vegetable drawer just as the sound of the roof access door opened in the other room. The unmistakable heavy footfalls of Matt's boots had your eyelids slowly lowering, a soft sigh escaping you. You'd hoped he would be out for a bit longer still, not wanting him to witness you like this right now. 

“Sweetheart?” Matt called out, his booted feet making their way down the stairs to the living room. “Is something wrong?”

Inhaling a deep breath in, you willed the tears to stop as you closed the fridge door. Wiping the back of your hand across your damp cheeks, you shook your head and tried your best to smile.

“Just tired, Matty,” you answered him. “And I've got a bad headache. You know, from the lack of sleep.”

As you made your way out of the kitchen and over towards the living room, you saw the way Matt’s head curiously canted to the side at your response. The billboard across the street was casting a yellow glow over him as he removed the horned cowl from his head, his sweat-dampened hair clinging to his forehead. 

“So was your night successful?” you asked him, hoping to change the subject.

“Yeah, it was,” he answered off-handedly. “Why have you been crying, sweetheart?”

“Oh, I–I wasn't. Not really,” you said before you could stop yourself. Catching the way the corners of his lips curved downwards, you realized he'd probably caught the lie in your words. “I mean, it was just rough getting him to sleep again tonight,” you backtracked quickly. “And you know–crazy hormones and all.”

Matt tossed his cowl onto the coffee table, his eyes narrowing curiously as they studied you. It didn't escape your notice how he was focused on your chest, clearly listening to your heartbeat and your body. Crossing your arms over yourself, you mentally prepared for the expected onslaught of questions as he made his way towards you. 

You expected him to probe further about the scent of your fresh tears in the apartment, or the skip in your heartbeat when you'd answered him. Maybe even the waver in your voice that you weren't convinced you'd successfully hidden this time. But what you hadn't expected was the way he'd stopped a foot away from you, his nose twitching as he visibly sniffed the air before pulling a face.

“Sweetheart,” he began slowly, his face twisted in distaste, “why do I smell…cabbage?”

It was impossible for you to control your reaction to his question. Your face immediately scrunched up, tears once more filling your eyes and spilling hot and warm down your cheeks. You felt a surge of sadness hit you hard as you abruptly crumpled in half, a sob flying out of you that you tried to muffle behind your hands.

Matt darted forward instinctively the moment you'd moved. His hands grasped tight onto your shoulders, keeping you upright as a look of concern drew itself across his face. His eyes were frantically scanning around you, darting over your face and then jumping down towards your body. 

“Hey, what's wrong? What's going on?” he asked. 

You could hear the strain in his tone as he clearly struggled to remain calm. Eyes snapping shut as the tears continued to race down your cheeks, you shook your head as Matt pulled you tight into his chest. Turning your face, you buried it against the strange material of his red suit, your arms wrapping back around yourself in a tight hug.

“It's me,” you croaked out. “I smell like cabbage.”

Matt's hands, which had soothingly been running up and down your back, briefly paused at what you'd said. You didn't dare move your face from where it was pressed against his chest, too embarrassed to see the expression on his face.

“I…don't understand,” he replied carefully.

Trying to fight back a sob, you answered him, your voice muffled by his suit. “I have some clogged ducts,” you began. “From the cluster feeding. Nothing is–is clearing them. Pretty sure there's an infection starting now.” You paused, exhaling a shaky breath. “I've tried everything. Everything recommended online except–except stuffing stupid cabbage in my bra.”

Your voice broke on the last few words, cracking as more tears spilled faster from your eyes. Unwrapping your arms from your chest, your hands clutched pathetically at Matt’s suit, your body aching from the flu-like symptoms you'd already begun experiencing.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Matt murmured tenderly, his arms wrapping tighter around you. “No wonder it feels like your body is warmer tonight. You've got the beginning of a fever, don't you?”

You nodded wordlessly, your eyes still closed as you clung to him for comfort. Though even you could smell the scent of cabbage filling your nose as you did, the scent of it making you feel even more pathetic.

“Why didn't you say anything?” Matt asked gently “I could have stayed home. Tried to help you or even just watched the little nugget so you could take care of yourself.”

Face still hidden against Matt, you shrugged. “Because it's stupid in comparison to what you're dealing with,” you muttered. “And I thought I could handle it.”

“You have the beginning of an infection,” he countered softly, his hands still making soothing patterns on your back. “That's not stupid, sweetheart.”

“I feel awful,” you whispered into his chest. “Feels like I'm sick.”

Matt sighed, his arms still firmly holding you to himself. Lowering his head, you felt him press his nose into your hair before affectionately placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I can tell,” he told you. “Your body is definitely fighting off an infection. Why don't you get into bed and I'll find a way to help you once I get out of the suit?” 

Reluctantly releasing your arms from around Matt, you leaned back and examined the serious expression on his face. His arms were still loosely holding your waist, his eyes focused around your heart as he waited for an answer. 

“Are you sure you want me to get in the bed? I'll most likely make it smell like cabbage,” you pointed out, half-joking but half-serious. “Knowing you, you'd probably smell it for weeks.”

Matt chuckled before gesturing his head over his shoulder towards the bedroom. “Yes, go on, sweetheart, I'm sure. You could make the bed smell like rotten eggs for all I care if it would help you. Now go,” he pressed, lightly pushing you towards the bedroom. “Go get in bed and let me take care of you for once. And if our little nugget wakes up, I'll take care of him, too. You need some rest.”

A small smile slipped onto your face as you nodded. “Thanks, Matty,” you murmured. 

“Don't thank me, angel,” he replied. “We're in this together, right? You, me, and the little nugget you’ve got sleeping soundly in there.”

“Right,” you agreed softly.

Matt released his hold on you slowly before you began making your way around him and towards the bedroom. As you neared the door, you heard the familiar sounds of Matt beginning to slip out of his suit and you found yourself grateful that he'd come home when he had to help you. Even if you felt absolutely foolish with cabbage currently stuffed in your bra, because you had a feeling this would be a moment you both looked back on and laughed about in the future. 

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Drunken Mistakes Part 2

NSFW

Part 1

Trafalgar Law X Fem Reader

You groan, pulling the covers above your head as Ikkaku tries to wake you up, “Come on Y/N it’s already noon. You should at least go visit the infirmary to get some fluids if your hangovers that bad.” You shift a bit not saying anything and Ikkaku seems to pick up on what type of silence you’re having, “You weren’t alone last night at all, you did nothing embarrassing. I promise.” She sits on the edge of your bed pulling the blanket off your head just enough to revel your eyes.

        “When I went to the bathroom” You murmur, the noise muffled a little bit. Your roommates laughs a bit, beckoning you to go on with your explanation, “I bumped into Law…”

        “So what? The captain scolded you for coming back late. It’s not like you puked on him or anything right?” You shake your head before remembering what happened, your face turning a deep shade of red before you tuck your head under the covers again.

        “It was so much worse Ikkaku” You groan out.

~~~

        Law walked into the dining room, appearing for the first time all day for lunch. As he expected most of his crew had chosen to take this day off and either go out or relax somewhere without worry of manning the submarine.

He hadn’t gotten much sleep after what had happened last night. After you had realized what you did to your captain you had hopped off of him and squeaked a bit before running off, slurring an apology.

“Hey Captain, You finally came out of your room,” Shachi grinned giving him a plate full of food. He stopped a bit before getting a devious smirk and walking over to penguin muttering something. Penguin was still nursing his hangover but shot his head towards their captain before laughing a bit.

Laws eye twitched a bit at the twos antics, “Don’t think I don’t know you came back late last night.” Shachi straightened his back a bit.

“Awww don’t be like that Captain,” Shachi sang, “After all you seemed to have a good night too~” He snickered a bit while pointing towards his own neck to show Law the area he was talking about.

“Toilet Duty. One Month.” Law said while continuing to eat his meal, Penguin laugh at Shachi’s pain, “You too.”

“But I didn’t say anything!” Law shot Penguin a glare. Shutting both of his crew members up. Law already knew that you had left a rather large hickey on his neck in the short amount of time you had latched yourself to him. And he lost most of his sleep due to it.

~~~

        It had been a couple days since the incident and you were in the watch room looking through the monitors. You had done everything in your power to avoid your captain, even going as far as peaking around corners when you suspect he’s there. Needless to say, you didn’t want to see him and explain yourself.

What’s worse is you knew a punishment was coming. Not only had you not listened to the curfew, you went into the wrong bathroom, and touched your captain right after he had gotten out of the shower. There’s no way you’d make it through this unscathed. Penguin and Shachi already got toilet duty, and you heard Ikkaku bumped into Law yesterday who had given her Inventory Check and you feared what you’d be getting as soon as you see your captain. Your three friends seemed to also be snickering and whispering around you and you’re sure they’re planning something.

You sigh looking over the monitors. It seemed as most of your crewmates had decided they’d rather be off the ship for the night, save for the few that had jobs in the morning. You look over at the clock on the wall, half past two, and lean back grabbing a book, hoping to get your mind off the situation at hand.

You glance at the screens noticing your captain talking to Bepo in the brig and then without warning you feel the unmistakable feeling of your captains ‘room’ enveloping the ship. He often used it whenever he was too lazy to walk but it made you tense hoping he wouldn’t appear in this room.

“You’ve been pretty elusive Y/N-ya” Your shoulders stiffen.

“C-Captain! I don’t know what you mean,” You stand turning around to face him, but glancing at the floor, “Nothing of note has happened tonight.” Adding the report in.

Silence befell the two of you as you refused to look up at him. “Y/N-ya…” Law said in a low tone. He took a step towards you and you subconsciously took a step back, only for him to take another step, gently but firmly grabbing your shoulders. You turn your head to stair at the corner of the room, nervousness setting in easily. “You know it’s rude to not look at your captain when you’re speaking to him,” he leans in a bit closer.

You straighten out making eye contact with your captain, letting your eyes glance down before making contact with the still evident mark you had undoubtably made. Your face heats up and you look away quickly, “Because of someone’s… Fun, night-“

“Look Captain I’m sorry!” You yell not wanting to hear more, “I was drunk and it was a mistake and I didn’t mean to-“ You stop yourself, your face heating up more as you remember groping your captains chest.

“Didn’t mean to what? Y/N-ya?” Law whispers in a taunting matter, “Why don’t you tell me exactly what you did so I can think of an appropriate punishment?” One of his hands ventured to your cheek, caressing it slightly before going to take a seat glancing at you. “Well Y/N-ya?”

You stand there for a second before turning to face your captain, “Well I stayed past curfew…” You drawled out, one hand rubbing up and down your other arm to try and distract yourself.

“And then?” You glanced at your captain and could see a smirk play on his lips.

“…I walked into the men’s restroom…” You start shaking slightly from embarrassment. This had to have been apart of your punishment.

“What else Y/N-ya? What else did you do?” He urged you further, having fun with your torment.

“Captain I’m sorry” You whimper out.

“Y/N-ya. If you just tell me what you did I’ll reward you~” A drip of amusement on your captains voice made your eyes snap to him where he had one leg crosses over the other, his head leading against of his hand as he watched you tremble. It sparked a feeling within you.

“Well… I thought I was dreaming…” You start, “So I started to touch you,” You let a sigh out, feeling a little relieved to finally say that you started but not wanting to admit anymore.

“And why, if you were dreaming, would you want to touch me?” Law mused and you couldn’t help but feel your face get even darker.

“I -uh… Captain Please, it’s too much,” You plead with him not wanting to admit anything but he just smiles, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward.

“Why don’t you come here Y/N-ya?” He gestures to the spot in front of him and you slowly stand in front of him. He points down and you take the hint to kneel. Gently grabbing your chin, he pulls your face closer, “If you don’t want to tell me what happened, I guess you could always continue what you started back that.” Your eyes widen at his suggestion.

“C-captain what do you-“ And before you could finish your sentence his lips met yours in dire desire. You’re shocked for a second but quickly lean into the kiss.

“Well Y/N-ya? What do you say?” Law says pulling back a bit from the kiss. You slightly nod your head, “I need to hear the answer~” He goes to nip at your bottom lip as you groan.

“Y-yes,” You sputter out and you can feel him smirk before feeling your captains’ powers activate again, and with a ‘shambles’ you’re in his room. He’s sitting on his bed looking down at you as your kneeling right in front of him.

        Law looks down at you smirking as he slowly removes his shirt, you feel a lump in your throat form, eyes wandering down his chest before glancing further down. This didn’t feel real, your captain, you’re hot, shirtless captain, slowly undressing himself while you kneel in front of him? Maybe this was a dream, you had been feeling tired while watching the monitors.

        “Y/N-ya,” You snap your eyes back up towards Law, “Do you want to touch?” The words from his mouth sounded so demanding, as though not asking but rather urging you to do what he wants. You gulp before reaching your hand out, one hand on the floor stabilizing you while the other gently touched Law’s abs, ghosting over his skin to his tattoos.

        You bit your lip as your hand reached his collarbone, your other hand on his knee now to help push you further up. You trace up memorized by the faded scars and inked skin. Soon enough you your fingers are brushing against his neck and you feel his neck tighten as he sharply inhales, gripping your wrist with his hand.

        “As much as I love watching you enjoy me…” Law pulls you up towards him so he can whisper in your ear, “Isn’t there anything else you’d like to do?” Your face heats up and you lean back to look at your captain.

        You gulp a bit before glancing down, he huffs before pulling you even further on the bed, flipping the both of you over so you are now trapped underneath him. Faces inches from each other, eyes flicker up meeting his. You feel one of Law’s legs rub up against you and it makes you aware of just how wet you’ve become.

        You let out a small moan, “Y/N-ya… You need to answer your captain,” He brushes his own hand over your body before slowly taking the zipper from your jumpsuit, inching it down.

        You’re mind wanders further, looking down at his hand before looking back up to you, “Law please…” You can see a smirk appear on his lips before he pulls the zipper further down, still tantilzingly slow.

        “What’s wrong Y/N-ya?” He mumbles into your neck, leaving a light dusting of kisses down to your chest. He stops to look up at you, where your flushed face is looking down at him. “Do you want to stop here?” He slowly starts to sit up, your body feeling cold from the loss of weight.

        “W-wait!” You sit up with him, leaning on your hands and pressing your body ever so slightly against his, “I. I uh…” You trail off, not wanting to say anything from the embarrassment. You meet his eyes again where he looks amused, “God, Law please? You’re being mean…” You pout out the last portion while looking away.

        “Please, what?” He brings the knee between your leg up, putting more pressure against you and you groan a small bit, “I won’t know unless you tell me Y/N-ya” He’s enjoying watching you squirm underneath him.

        “I want more…” You mutter slightly, not wanting to say it too loudly, hearing yourself out loud sounded even more embarrassing. Law lets out a chuckle before turning your head toward him, bringing you in close before gently kissing you.

        You take this invitation to wrap your arms around him and slowly deepen the kiss. Law seems to have enjoyed your whine as he fully unzipped your uniform, brushing it off your shoulder before putting a hand under your tank top. You gasp as he pinches your nipple, and he takes your surprise to slip his tongue in.

        You moan at the sudden intrusion and push against him for more contact. Law grips at your tank top, breaking your kiss to rip it off you before connecting his mouth to your neglected nipple and moving one hand further down. He palms you through your panties and you can feel him groan when he realizes how soaked you are.

        “What a good girl you are for me,” He pushes your panties to the side before teasing your entrance, smirking as you arch into him for any more contact. Thumbing your clit before slipping a finger in, somehow knowing exactly where to hit. Soon you’re a moaning mess, tears pricking your eyes, and you cry out as he removes his hand entirely.

        “Law, Please-“ You beg, holding onto his shoulders, failing as you arch to try and get any more contact back.

        “Please. What? Y/N-ya?” He teases as he sits up, still brushing over sensitive areas before leaning back to look at you, happy with the mess he’s made you. You blush harder, throwing an arm over your eyes as you turn your face away muttering under your breath. “What was that? I could quite hear you~” He teases you and you groan slightly, not wanting to say it out loud. “Of course we could just stop here-“

        “I said I want you in me!” You burst out before realizing what you just said. Law smirks, happy with you defeated admission while you refuse to make eye contact with him.

        “That’s all you had to say” He whispered before he pulled the rest of your clothes off in one fell sweep, before you could even think he was positioned in front of you. You glance down at the new feeling of his dick resting at your entrance, slowly rubbing his tip before looking up at you, “Are you ready Y/N-ya?” he leans down waiting for a response.

You nod your head, biting your hand slightly to not let any noise out but you let out a disappointed cry when Law slowly backs away, “God, Law Yes. Please Just give it to me,” You beg him and as soon as the words reach his ears you feel the pressure of him slowly pushing into you.

You gasp a bit and Law goes to his elbows, hooking his arms under yours, “What a good girl~” You whimper at the praise. As soon as he thought you had adjusted he grips you hard, pulling you up and you moan out as he sinks deeper into you, starting a brutal pace. Wrapping your arms around him, sinking your nails into his back as the pressure builds.

You moan and scream his name as he spins to sit down on the bed, you now fully straddling him, “You feel so good Y/N-ya” He grunts out as he caresses and grips at you body. You bounce on him, every movement causing you to moan.

Law grabs your hips and holds you up, not letting you sink down on his throbbing cock, whimpering at the loss of contact you try to grind your hips down, “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep this pace~” He breathes out, his eyes holding desire behind them.

“Please Law, I want you to cum~” Your mind sex crazed and filled with pleasure enough for you to forget your previous embarrassment for admitting such wants. The sharp inhale you hear before feeling Laws cock slam into you causes you to scream in pleasure. You moan of how good he feels and you can feel yourself get light headed from the pleasure.

“Are you ready?” He groans into your ear, one hand gripping your hip as the other supports your back as he leans you back onto the bed. You can barely breathe but moan out an answer as his lips meet yours.

Soon he pulls backs, ripping out of you just as he cums. Shots of white painting your stomach and tits and he pumps his member in his hand panting, you on the other hand can still feel the reverberations of cumming and can still feel your legs shaking. Law smirks, looking at the masterpiece below him as you try to catch your breath.

You’re so caught up in your own pleasure you barely had time to realize that Law had left the bed, only coming to the realization when he returns with a damp towel, wiping you down. “You were such a good girl Y/N-ya~” he praises as you whimper when he swipes at the slick between your legs.

Before soon Law is laying next to you, still just as naked as you are. He pulls you closer as he brings a blanket above both of you, “That was amazing,” You clammer out getting comfortable before falling asleep.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

It’s me again, something similar happened to me yesterday when I was moving to school, and could really use the girls for comfort rn

R is stressed trying to quickly move things, perhaps moving into wandanat room? When she falls, to her it’s blank one minute she was standing the next she’s in pain on the floor? Obviously r is stubborn and tries to carry on not wanting to be seen as weak or lazy. But the girls notice and immediately go into caring mode where the see r is actually bleeding and hurt her ankle.

“Oh my sweet girl you could’ve come to us. We aren’t mad. Let’s clean you up”

“You can’t walk darling, you’ll make it worse”

“Lots of love for our love bug”

“Shhh no saying sorry. They are not necessary sweet girl, you can’t help it”

Any fluffy comfort dialogue 🥹

~ 🕯️ I would like this emoji like you suggested so you can see I’m the writer you’ve been on my page recently lmao

Moving in but with crutches

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.5K

Summary: Reader is super excited to move in with her girls but she’s a little clumsy and ends up needing some tlc

TW: light mentions of blood, sprain (implied), injury

A/n sorry this took so long to get done but I hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing it. Also I’m happy for you to be 🕯 anon :)

It was finally time. Ever since moving to the compound your gaze had trailed after them like a lost puppy. Them, being the power couple of the compound. Them, being Wanda and Natasha.

You were sure the mind reader and spy couldn’t have missed the light shades of pink that dusted your cheeks every time they spoke to you. Or maybe they just thought you weren’t very sun safe, either way it didn’t matter now because the three of you had been dating for four months now and despite all the milestones that are in a relationship this one was the one you were most excited for. Moving in with them.

Sure, you had been sleeping in their bed for like two weeks now, but it was never really officially your room. You still had all your stuff in the other smaller room tony had built for you when you joined the team. Wanda and Nat party because they were sharing a room and party because they had been on the team for far longer, had a much larger and your opinion much nicer room. Furnished with Wanda’s touches and Natasha’s tastes. There were enough plants, courtesy of Wanda, to compete with a forrest and it was just beautiful.

You had spent the morning packing your stuff into box’s, sure it was just across the hall, but your stuff was important to you, and you wanted the full experience.

You came to the tower with nothing but your name and the clothes on your back, so you wanted the full nine yards. Wanda and Nat were supportive and had been helping you pack. But as lunch neared all of you were getting hungry so nat and Wanda had gone out to pick up some takeaway. Claiming that the living alone lifestyle was about to change, and you should make the most of it. Of course, that statement led to an argument over who was more of a blanket hog which you did your best not to be roped into.

Once the two had secured their keys and left, still bickering however, you turned up your music and moved over to some of the heavier items.

Pulling the books off the bookshelf and placing them neatly in boxes you moved over to the lamp. But in your haste accidentally pulled on the chord.

One second you were upright and the next thing you knew you were on the floor. As your senses came back to you and you shifted into a sitting position, the pain flooded in. Your ankle was bleeding, the bulb must have smashed, and on top of that the joint hurt like all hades.

Despite the calming breathes you took your ankle was starting to look worse. A light blue bruise that you were sure was only going to darken began to form around the joint and you closed your eyes.

Thank God you had turned up the music or someone would have surely come in to see if you were ok. How embarrassing, being an avenger only to be taken down by a lamp. No. You were not lazy. You were not weak.

Sucking in a breath you carefully got to your feet trying to avoid the glass. Putting any pressure on the ankle made it feel like you were stepping on a thousand suns, but you simply pushed through. You were not weak. You were an avenger. You moved as fast as possible to clean up the mess, which let's be honest wasn’t very fast.

You swept the glass up and placed the seemingly undamaged corpse of a lamp into a box for later. However, it was now no longer welcome in your new room. No. You made a small pledge to hide that box for when your ankle was better and seek some revenge on the stupid piece of furniture.

You had just finished sealing off the box of nightmares with the packing tape when two short raps came from the open doorway. You turned around as smoothly as you could with the pain in your foot and smiled at Natasha.

“Hey baby, Wanda’s gone to start getting the food ready in the kitchen are you gonna join us?” She asked.

“Yeah sure. Like I’d ever say no to that.” You said trying your best to hide a wince as you took a step towards Nat. Her brow furrowed and eyebrows pinched together as she didn’t miss the action at all.

“Baby? are you ok?” She asked. You wavered but plastered on the fake smile you used for Tony’s galas.

“One hundred percent. Did you get pad Thai?” You asked and tried to change the subject. Nat knew something was wrong and looked you up and down doing a mental scan to find the problem. You knew you were screwed when her eyes zeroed in on your sock. You had slipped it on last minute to hide the cut on your foot and in your haste had managed to miss the fact it had bled through the pale fabric.

Nat was over by your side in an instant, she guided you by your shoulders to the bed and pressed down to make you sit.

“Sit” she said leaving zero room for questions. You simply nodded as she crouched down and placed your foot on her knee. Gently she peeled back the sock and sighed at the semi-deep cut that ran down your heel. Your ankle was swollen and looked angry, and Nat was surprised you were able to walk at all but suspected that the fading adrenaline may have something to do with it.

“Wanda!” She yelled and the two of you heard hurried footsteps and Wanda appeared in the doorway.

“Yes?! Whats the matter?” She asked looking panicked. When she saw the two of you were still alive and breathing, she sighed and placed a hand over her heart.

“Jesus don’t do that nat.” She said. Nat shrugged.

“Sorry baby. Can you grab the first aid kit in the bathroom Y/n/n here felt she could hide something from us.” She said gesturing to the ensuite and then your foot which was propped up in her lap. She was holding the destroyed sock to the cut to stop the bleeding which made you wince. Wanda nodded and disappeared before coming back with the kit and placing it down beside Nat.

Wanda gave the injury a proper look now and softened her gaze and took your hand, rubbing circles on your knuckles with her thumb.

"Oh, my sweet girl you could've come to us. We aren't mad. Let's clean you up" she said.

“I-its fine. Im fine. No problem.” You said and went to move your foot from Nat’s lap who had just finished bandaging the cut. She grabbed your calf gently but tightly and glared at you before softening at the sight of tears in your eyes.

"You can't walk darling; you'll make it worse" she said gently and you huffed.

Wanda stood and sat next to you on the bed and began pressing kisses to your cheek and arms.

“It just means lots of love for our love bug" she said and pulled you in for a hug. Nat nodded and joined the hug.

“Sorry.” You said in a small voice. But Nat hushed you with a kiss to the lips it was soft and tender. When she pulled away, she looked into your eyes.

"Shhh no saying sorry. That’s not necessary sweet girl, you can't help it" she said and rubbed her nose against yours in a gentle moment of pure love.

“Do you want me to bring the food here or Natty can carry you into the lounge so we can prop your foot up to eat? Either way you're getting ice and rest on the ankle.” Wanda said and you let a single tear fall at the tenderness of it all. Wanda was quick to wipe it away and press a kiss to the tear track.

“Baby don’t cry love. We’ve got you honey.” She said and you sniffled.

“The lounge maybe?” You said and Wanda chuckled.

“Of course, sweetheart. Nat?” She said and gestured to you who grinned like a feral animal and scooped you up with little to no warning. You squealed and clutched your arms around her. She laughed deeply and you swatted her chest. The three of you went to the lounge and Nat called Bruce to bring you some crutches for later and Wanda finished prepping the food.

After the three of you were cuddled up under a blanket with ice on your ankle and old movie reruns playing in the background. Soon you drifted to sleep as Wanda ran her hands through your hair and nat traced patterns on your exposed thigh. After all you were only in a large t-shirt and boxers. The rest of the team was away apart from Bruce, but he never left the lab anyway. You we’re content. Happy. Safe. And loved. Life couldn’t get any better.

MASTERLIST

[gretavanmoon]

an omnipresent force• ch 2

Chapter 2- DARK ENIGMA

Jake x reader (we'll get there... I promise)

Words: 12.4k

A/N: Semi-AU// Set six years in the future, the world has decided to cast humankind aside, starting with the poisonous entities that are destroying her the most.

Warnings: Dystopian Horror Cursing, Smoking, Mention of Drugs, Feelings of Fear and Uncertainty, An Apocalyptic World, Hunting, Violence (mention of firearms), Kidnapping, Wounds and Pain, Blood, Death & Dying, Burials, Lying, Deceit, Sadness, Panic Attacks, Use of Restraints, Mentions of Sex

Cheatham County, Tennessee

Five days later

Y/N

The old wood of the rocking chair squeaks beneath me as I gently move my body back and forth, snuggling into my thick afghan wrapped around my body. There is a light dusting of snow on the ground, and I’d spent the majority of the evening out here on the porch, taking in the scene of my grandparents’ farmland before me. The lead in the pencil I’ve been writing with all evening is starting to dull, but I press a little harder to get the last few sentences written down into my journal. 

December 29, 2030

Day five back at Pap and Gran’s farm. We didn’t do much today except peel some potatoes and boil chicken for broth. Gran’s state has deteriorated since we made it back here. Paps and I truly thought that maybe bringing her back to her home would make her feel better, but she’s only gotten worse. Part of me thinks that she might have just wanted to find her peace here, in her own home, in her own surroundings before she decides it’s okay to let go. Awful of me to think that, isn’t it?

I miss my Mom. And I miss my dad, and I really, really miss my brother. Having nearly no time to mourn them has truly put me in a weird headspace, I don’t know how I’m making it day to day. Sometimes I think back to that fear I felt when I first realized I had to get the hell out of my house when I found the faultline in my foundation, that feeling that it could all come crashing down on me at any second, burying me in walls and furniture and drywall to the point I can’t breathe… That’s what this feels like. Like I’m standing in my basement again, just waiting for the whole thing to crush me. 

The only thing that is keeping me going is Paps and Gran. And the fact that if I stop, then they stop. And Gran is already slowing to a crawl. 

I pull out my pocket knife from my pants, opening the blade and sharpening the graphite in my pencil a bit before licking the tip, and getting back to work. 

I’ve lost nearly 16 pounds, and my hair feels so thin. I can feel my muscles starting to wear out, and the joints of my bones are beginning to ache. Lack of nourishment, I guess. But I don’t let it stop me, and neither does Paps. We are still getting up at the crack of dawn every single morning to look for roaming wildlife to catch. Thankfully we were able to get our hands on six chickens, a rooster, a goat, and the neighbor’s old Blue Heeler, Hank. Hank sits by my Gran’s side day in and day out… I think he remembers that she used to throw him scraps out into the front yard.

The strangest thing happened to me yesterday, and I feel embarrassed to even admit it in this stupid journal. 

For the first time in months, I got the overwhelming urge to want to fuck. 

I wish I could write that in invisible ink like we used to do in text messages, yikes. But, I guess I have to realize that I am still a living, breathing woman who still goes through her monthly cycles, and still possesses the urges associated with it all. God, I  fucking laughed out loud at myself. I haven’t seen another man close to my own age since we left Nashville and I saw a group of young people throwing a cinder block through the front glass of a coffee shop. For fucks sake I’m so embarrassed. 

But I actually even dreamed about it last night. Real, true, romping sex in some strange place… it was so real that I woke up in a cold sweat with my heartbeat between my legs. Shit. I don’t even know who it was with, but that part didn’t matter. I used to love those pointless, carnal dreams that made you blush in your sleep. But damn, now? That’s as close as I’m probably ever gonna get. 

I had to spend the rest of the day fighting the flashbacks while spending time with my literal grandparents. Ignoring the fact that I used to daydream about it, then make a phone call to whoever, and make it happen. It used to be so easy. Shit, I miss random hookups. Fucking hell. 

Now I’m spending my days collecting freshly laid eggs before a pack of wild dogs come and kill my chickens. Goddamnit.

ANYWAYS. 

Tomorrow is my 33rd birthday. And I don’t even care. It feels silly to even think that even though the world is pushing me off the literal land I stand on, I still have to age. I still have to deal with being a human. And mourn the loss of my family. What the fuck. Just lost the last of my immediate kin, I’m digging up last season’s potatoes from the ground and nursing my sweet Gran as she lies in her bed in pain, and I’m having sex dreams. Really, really fucking good sex dreams. If I could roll my eyes with paper and pencil, I’d be doing it right now. The human experience is so fuc

My thought process is stopped when I hear the sound of something I haven’t heard in literal days. Weeks? I don’t know… But I hear it, the faint sound of a tune and a melody coming through an old, staticy speaker. I close my pencil into my journal and stand, realizing I’d been sitting outside for a while now as the stars had become bright and the moon sat high in the sky. 

My brow furrows as I listen harder. It’s Billie Holiday. I push the front door open and enter the warm house, firstly noticing the crackling fire that Paps had kept burning all day. I then saw him standing in the dimly lit corner, fiddling around with his old vinyl records and adjusting the volume of the music. The wall behind him is stuffed full of records, floor to ceiling and two shelves wide… all full of the music he filled mine and James’ lives with since the time we could walk. He’d been collecting his entire life.  Truly, I owe my love of music to him. 

“Paps…” I say softly as I enter the living room. 

“Hey youngin’, sorry if I disturbed ya…” he said, puffing some pipe tobacco smoke up into the air. I used to tell him he needed to quit, but now… what’s the use?

“You didn’t, Paps.”

“I sorta… forgot that music exists,” he chuckled, opening the cover of a Bill Monroe album and inspecting the inside.

I place my hand on his back, giving him a few pats as I lay my head against his shoulder, watching the record spin on his antique hand-crank phonograph. “I kinda did too, actually,” I reply, admitting it to myself. “What made you pick Lady Day?”

He shrugs. “Not sure. Always loved her voice, hated it when she passed. She left one hell of a legacy, though, huh? Your Gran sure loved her, that’s for sure,” he mumbles on, looking back to the daybed we had set up for Gran in the living room so she could be closer to the heat of the fireplace. 

“Love her, Don. Not loved. I ain’t dead yet,” we both hear Gran stir from under her blankets. The both of us erupted in a fit of laughter at her unbridled and filterless sense of humor. 

“Hell’s fire, Jane. Didn’t think you’d be able to hear us,” my Paps laughs as he places the cover back down on the table and goes to join her at her side. I follow behind. “Did we wake you?”

“You did, but that’s okay. No better way to be woken up from a dreamless sleep than by some pretty music,” she says, propping herself up on her pillows. She still has so much strength, and though she’s weakening by the day, I’m still astounded by her ability to get up and even walk herself to the restroom. “And!” she boasts with her crooked finger in the air. “No way I wanted to miss my favorite granddaughter’s birthday when the clock strikes twelve,” she adds with a reassuring nod. 

“Gran, you don’t need to stay up this late! It’s almost midnight now, go back to sleep,” I push her, not wanting to miss one second of any rest she can get, while also wishing that she and Paps could sit up and reminisce with me until the sun comes up. I’d give anything to have just one more hour with my parents and James.

“Oh, child, I’m fine!” she pushes my hands away, pulling herself back up. “You’ve gained another year. This day and age, that means something, you know?” Her voice is weak, but she still sounds like herself, her southern drawl coming out to play as she tries to fluff the pillows behind her. 

I nod in understanding. “If you say you want to stay up, we’ll stay up!” 

There really isn’t such a thing as a true bedtime, anymore. I’m up at strange hours of the night, take many naps throughout the day… time doesn’t matter, aside from the rooster reminding us of when the sun is about to come up every morning. 

But we still set the clock, and we’ll change the batteries. The Grandfather clock against the back wall reminds us of each hour, every day. And how lucky we still are to have each and every one, no matter how long they drag us on. 

Gran taps her fingers along to ‘Love Me or Leave Me�� as Paps sings quietly along, and I place a few new logs onto the fire to keep it burning. The smell of this house has always stuck out to me– matured wood, the scent of the barn wafting through the cracked windows, the Murphy’s Oil Soap that Paps was always obsessed with cleaning the floors with… it’s all still stuck here, unmoving in time. Just like the photos on the walls, the dinnerware filling the shelves, and the wall that’s covered in pencil markings and dates, marking mine, James’, and my father’s height growth over the years. 

It’s all still here, exactly where they left it. Exactly where they carved things into the load-bearing beam that runs the span of the house. The wearing in the wood of the floor where Gran stood for fifty some odd years in front of the stove cooking meals. The screen door that hangs haphazardly on the front door, the screen ripped and aging as it served its purpose keeping the flies out of the house for however many summers.

A time capsule. And by god, were the three of us overjoyed when we pulled up and found it not sitting at the bottom of a sinkhole.

“Have you got any Sinatra?” my Gran asks, pulling me from my deep-thought trance as the Billie record spins now, without any sound. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Paps agrees as he stands to replace the record, knowing that he’d give my Gran anything she could ever ask for, just like he always had. 

He makes his way back over to his setup and finds exactly what he’s looking for, switching the vinyl out and putting the needle back down. Gran tilts her head back onto her pillows as she hears Frank’s voice come over the crackly violin sounds. 

“Ol’ Blue Eyes,” she mutters before sitting back up and grabbing at my hands. “You know, Y/N, I didn’t always love music, it was your grandfather’s doin’ that got me to fall in love with it.” Much like he did for me, actually. “Of course I’d go to the dances at the school and I knew a few songs here and there, but it was when I met him that I truly found my love and appreciation for it.”

“He’s had that effect on us both, then, hasn’t he!” I jest, smiling and squeezing at her frail hands. We both glance at him still standing by his collection, eyeing the spines of the covers and pulling them out to look over. I truly did owe a lot to him, he taught me more about artists than I could have ever taught myself. Older ones, especially. He knew the stories that were never recorded in interviews and tabloids. He knew, because he kept them all in the back of his mind as if they were his own family stories.

“That man got me to follow the Dead around for nearly six months before I told him he’d better get me back to Tennessee so I could have me a garden,” she went on, making my face warm with a grin. I’d heard the story a hundred times before, but I’d sit and listen to it a hundred times more, if time would let me.

“Oh, shoot, Jane. We had a good time,” Paps interrupted, scowling at her as he puffed his pipe. 

“Didn’t say we didn’t, Don!” she pokes back, and I can tell they’re about to get into one of their little playful spats. “Your grandfather and I tried LSD for the very first time while we sat in a drum circle after a Dead show in Kansas City,” she said, her eyes wide as she still held my hands. 

Now that, they’ve never shared before. 

“Gran!” I exclaim, truly surprised.

“Now Jane!” Paps barks from his place.

“What?!” she replies, shrugging her bony shoulders. “It was a damned good time and I can honestly say I came back a changed woman. Nothing wrong with that, now is there? I’ve lived one hell of a life…” she trails off, earning a scoff from Paps as he waves her off. “There should be nothing stopping you from still living your life, Y/N. Do you hear me? The Earth might swallow us up, but that doesn’t mean you can’t keep running, keep on living, you understand, child?” she asks, moving her cold hands to cup my cheeks.

“‘Course I do, Gran. I promise,” I relent, and I envy her ability to speak to me with this regard, knowing that the end of her life is near.

“Good,” she pats the side of my face. “Don, how about a little acoustic for a dying old woman?”

Paps drops his shoulders. “Now Jane, do ya have to keep talkin’ that mess, or am I gonna have to make you?” he teases.

I laugh and stand to go into the kitchen as Paps makes his way over to the corner, plucking his old acoustic from its place. I re-wet Gran’s cloth in the icy water, wringing out the dripping water and returning to place it back over her chest. 

Paps sits beside us on the daybed, the smoke rising from his pipe as he plucks at his strings, his feeble but strong hands re-tuning them to where it sounds best. My grandfather is, and was, a very handsome man. Strong and built like an ox. I can see why Gran followed him around chasing after the Dead for six months.

Finally he strums a perfect chord, raising his eyebrows at Gran as she smiles back at him. “Guess it’s a good thing I never got my hands on an electric, hm?” he says as he bites the end of his pipe. 

Neither Paps or I have shown any signs of the rash, at all. No where. And neither of us could fathom why.

The two of us sit and listen to Paps play a plethora of familiar tunes, his fingers still agile enough to float over the strings and play little snippets of all of Gran’s favorites. I can feel Gran’s body relax as she listens to him, her mind probably floating through a million memories of watching him play over the years. He hums along a little as his eyes close on their own, listening to himself play. I swear I could sit here for days. 

After a few minutes, his fingers contort and play a little more harshly, strumming out a tune that hits a nerve buried so deep within me, I almost cry right there on the spot. His very own rendition of one of my favorite songs in the world, You’re the One. 

“Paps…” I murmur, almost whining.

“Hush, child, let me see if I can still pull through these chords,” he shushes me. And he does. I want to scorn him for bringing up the music that was made by my favorite band in the entire world. But then again, in later months, Greta had become one of his favorite bands, too. 

“Babe, ain’t no denyin’, that I got you in my head…” he sings to Gran, making her cover her face with her hands. He plays through about half of the song before he stumbles over a note or two, and decides his hands have gotten too tired. 

“How dare you, Paps. You know that struck a nerve…” I say, scowling at him. 

“Oh, quiet, now. You used to walk around the house singing their songs for days on end. Watch those silly videos of them, hell. How many shows did you go to?” he asks, truly schooling me on my own obsession with that band.

“Twenty-three,” I mutter under my breath. 

“How many?”

“Twenty-three! Okay?” I play along with him, the both of us knowing that he attended the last five of them with me. 

We’d traveled over to Kentucky for his first time seeing them live after I’d shown him a few of their songs. He was hooked after his first play of From the Fires, ripping the album cover from my hands to read along with the lyrics. After that we moved on to Anthem of the Peaceful Army, Garden’s Gate and so on, each play enrapturing my grandfather even more than the last. 

“These kids have some damned promise, that’s for sure. This is a sound I haven’t heard in ages… and their talent? Boy…” he’d said. I still remember the day I surprised him with tickets to his first show, watching him fall in just as much love with them as I was. Swaying along to their classics, singing along with the lyrics he’d learned to love. He learned their names, he learned their personalities a little. He even met a few of the friends I’d made along the way, flirting with them as we’d all stand in line before a show. 

It was Paps and Gran’s travels with the Grateful Dead that inspired me to follow Greta Van Fleet around on their tours. Not for six months straight, as I had to hold down my job, but nonetheless. Twenty-three shows I went to over the course of nine years. Strange Horizons all the way up to their last tour before the world shut down. I had tickets and plans to meet up with my group of friends for a show after Greta had gotten back from Greece, but, of course that never happened. 

Paps grew to love them just as much as I loved them. Love them. For so many years, they were my escape. My solid rock to land on as the headaches of daily life surrounded me. I made lifelong friends through them. Traveled to other countries to see them, with my friends by my side. I watched them grow into men, as I had grown into a woman right alongside them. Watched them evolve, grow, and retreat into silence before exploding back onto the scene with something brand new and fresh, roping me right back into their world. Obsessing over every little detail they fed us. Digging deeply into the meanings of songs, and discussing all the lore with my cohorts on social media. I can account many of my life’s milestones to at least one song of theirs. 

Now, when I find the world more quiet than it ever has been in my lifetime, I find myself reminiscing on those times, some of the best times of my life with that band, and my friends that felt more like family. I catch myself humming their songs, just trying to keep myself centered and rooted to the earth as it literally is falling apart beneath my feet. Greta was always my solid foundation, and even during the End of Days, they hold true to that assignment.

The grandfather clock finally decides to strike midnight, signaling my 33rd birthday.

“I’m sorry we can’t celebrate like we normally would, sweetheart,” Paps says as he continues lightly strumming.

“It’s okay, Paps. Just having the two of you still here with me is celebration, enough.” And I truly mean that. I watch as Gran’s sullen eyes fill with tears as she watches the two of us, and I know I’d give anything to keep the two of them alive as long as I possibly could. But her rash is worsening by the day, and Paps and I can tell that though she puts on a tough exterior, she’s suffering inside.

Gran had fallen back asleep peacefully to the sound of Paps’ acoustic, and we covered her up and threw another few logs onto the fire to last us a few more hours, at least. Paps kisses my forehead after he places his guitar back on its stand in the corner, wishing me a happy birthday as we both retreat to our beds.

+++

The next morning, I wake to myself shivering; Paps and I both must have slept through the night without waking up to tend to the fire. I stretch my muscles and rub my eyes, but I’m instantly startled  by the sound of someone coughing. I throw on my robe and slippers and rush to the living room, finding Gran sitting up in her bed, coughing terribly. Paps and I are by her side in seconds, asking her what she might need to get through the fit, but she just shakes her head. 

Her skin is cold and gray, and it looks as though her muscles are shaking uncontrollably. She’s almost completely covered in the rash, now.

“Do you want to get in the tub, Jane? Do you need to get in the water?” Paps begs of her, kneeling by the bedside. 

She shakes her head more. “No,” she chokes out. Her throat sounds scratchy and dry and we offer her water, but that, too, she rejects. Finally her coughing subsides and she relaxes back, and Paps and I share a knowing look. A look that we’ve both shared three times, when everyone else finally succumbed to the rash. 

This is so fucking unfair. Why don’t I have the rash?! Why can’t I take this pain away from her? Why am I not suffering, too?!

“I’m ok Don. I’m ok,” she mutters, her voice barely her own. 

We both sit there with her for hours, until the sun is noting midday. We hold her hands, caress her face, talk to her, tell her stories… anything to get her to pass with as much comfort as we can. She coughs, still, but each time she begs us to carry on with talking to her. I watch as my grandfather finally sheds a tear, wiping it free from his face as he sniffles through it. 

“Don’t you dare cry for me, Don,” Gran says. “We’ve had a beautiful life together. Beautiful… family,” she struggles to breathe. My chest feels heavy, too, with the overwhelming amount of sorrow it’s holding. I want to throw my fist into the wall, curse everything that has ever lived. I feel a rage building up in my stomach, one that is beginning to burn with so much fury that when it finally awakens, I’m not sure I’ll be able to contain it.

“I love you, I love you both…”

And with one small exhale, she ceases to breathe any more. 

We both allow ourselves time to weep at her bedside for a minute or two before I finally stand and open the windows, uncaring of how it will chill the house. I wanted to let her soul be free. 

+++

It took me about three hours to dig my grandmother’s grave, as the ground was hard from the cold and one shovel can only dig so fast. Hank the heeler was by my side the whole time, sitting and watching guard as I threw the shovels of dirt into a neat pile. I insisted Paps let me do it alone, and he spend a little bit of time with her to say his goodbyes.

 It was cathartic, really, putting my body through physical grunt work as I let the tears fall freely. I wept for her, for the rest of my family, for the heartbreak of my grandfather. But mostly, I cried for myself. I shouldn’t have, it felt selfish to, but I had hardly allowed myself any time to feel sorry for me. Fuck, a person can only take so much. My heart was already broken into a thousand pieces, but the numbness of the past few months had shielded my ability to listen to myself. My body somehow must have felt the need to get it out, so that I could put a brave face on for Paps. He’d need me to. So, as a rare bit of bright sunlight came down and scorched my arms, breaking through the freezing cold wind, I allowed myself to cry again.

It’s almost sunset, now, and Paps had wrapped Gran up in a few white sheets, topped with a pretty lace tablecloth that she had woven many years ago. It used to cover the dining room table, but it did seem fitting for it to be with her, now. 

I give Paps a sweet smile as I make my way into their bedroom, sitting on her old chest as I open the top drawer of her armoire. There, arranged still so neatly, was all of her expensive jewelry that she hardly ever wore. Gold bracelets, diamond rings, emerald-encrusted pieces… all if it is so precious, so valuable, and so completely worthless. 

I take a second to collect it all up and slip it into a canvas drawstring bag, making sure first to keep just one piece out for myself. She’d have wanted me to, I’m positive of it. 

A sterling silver ring topped with the prettiest piece of deep blue turquoise. Her grandmother had given it to her many years ago, and she only ever wore it to special occasions, but it fits perfectly on my middle finger. And if I wanted something to remember my grandmother by, it would most definitely be this. 

I go back into the living room and gently grab my grandmother’s cold, bruised hands, replacing each piece of precious jewelry onto her fingers and wrists wherever I can fit them, stacking them one on top of the other. 

“Should we add her books, Paps?” I manage to ask. 

He shakes his head solemnly. “No, might be best to keep things like that above ground…” 

Paps and I make our way out to the barn as dusk falls, and I light the few candles he has placed around on the shelves and tables. It’s dilapidated but in a good way; the walls and ceiling showing wear of many, many years of hard work. I watch as Paps grabs up one of the candles and walks to a swing door I’d never really noticed before, using some force to pull it open and propping it with a cut of a two-by-four. My eyes take a second to adjust to the darkness as he walks further inside the room, illuminating the space. There in the center of the small room is a pine box casket.

“Paps, what in the world? When did you…?” I breathe, walking closer to it. I notice that it has my grandmother’s name carved right in the top, the letters painted in black.

“About fifteen years ago, I’d say. Jane and I always said we wanted to be buried right here on the farm, when our times came. Guess we never told you kids about that. Your parents knew, a’course, but we never dreamed they’d go before us…” 

Paps pulls his blue handkerchief from his back pocket and wipes his nose, his eyes still dripping with remnant tears. 

“It looks really good, Paps. You did a great job,” I commend him, but he pays no mind. Instead he blows across it, relieving some of the old sawdust from its home on the lid. He pulls the top open and inspects it again, pulling a few pieces of straw from the inside. 

“Help me get it over to the site?” he asks, and I realize I’d never even asked him where he wanted me to dig the grave. I just picked the prettiest place that I could. Something tells me he would have picked the same place, too. “Under the willow?” he asks. 

Great minds.

“Under the willow.”

We lower the casket onto the wheelbarrow and roll it across the back yard and along the fenceline, right beside the weeping willow tree. It was Gran’s favorite place to come and lie in the grass with a book. Hank walks alongside us, his snout on guard for any wild packs that may be a threat to us. 

Together, we lower the pine box into the hole I’d dug, making sure it was level at the bottom. “Want me to go get her?” I ask. 

“I’ll get her,” he responds as he takes off back toward the house. The wind is whipping my hair across my face, now, as the stars are beginning to show themselves, and I can’t stop myself from crying again. This shouldn’t be happening. I shouldn’t be standing beside a grave I just dug, with a casket my grandfather built, watching his back walk across the tall grass to retrieve the body of the love of his life. This shouldn’t. Fucking. Be. Happening. 

In the moonlight, I finally see the figure of him coming back through the shadows with her in his arms. I silently thank the heavens above that he is a strong man, still yet, with more brute strength than any man his age should have. Just like James.

I help him lower her inside, but not before the both of us place kisses on either of her cheeks. I work to cover her back up with dirt as he stands behind, Hank begging his hand for a pet.

“You wanna say a few words?” I ask him as I throw the last shovelful of dirt on top, wiping a hand across my cold-sweat forehead. 

He takes a quick, chopped breath. “Sixty-two years wasn’t nearly enough with you, sweetheart. Won’t ever be enough. Thank you for every single laugh, every single tear, every single argument and happy moment. Thank you for our beautiful children, and grandchildren, and thank you for filling my heart with more joy than any man should have the privilege of havin’. You sure made my life worth livin’. Give ‘em hell up there in heaven, Janie. I know ya will. I love ya to the moon.” He sniffles again as he gives in to Hank’s requests, finally leaning down and wrapping a strong arm around the dog. I sidestep and wrap my arm around him, too, and we stand there in the wind until we can’t stand any more.

JAKE

“RRRUHHHHH!” I growl loudly as I wake up from unconsciousness in a full-on panic. My eyes are shifty and dry as I work to sit myself up quickly, my hands still bound at my back. The tape is gone from my mouth now, though. 

It’s dark, and it's cold, but I’m indoors. I just can’t fucking see a god damned thing. 

“Hey! Help!! Can anyone hear me?!” I yell, my voice echoing hard off the walls that surround me. My voice feels dry and knotted in my throat as I try to swallow what little moisture I have in my mouth. When I get no response, I crack my neck sideways as pain sets in over my body, and not just from my arms being bound. I feel as though my legs have been hit with something hard, and my back feels like it’s bruised and sore. What the fuck? What the fuck!

“Heyyyyy! Somebody come and fucking talk to me! What do you want?!” I yell again, my heart rate flying as reality sets in that I’ve been kidnapped from the cabin. Alone. 

The last thing I remember is being alone in the back of that truck, rolling around as whoever was driving had little care for it’s cargo in the back. Maybe that’s why I feel bruised and beaten. Or maybe it’s not. 

Yes, alone. In the truck… six intruders… weapons… it’s all coming back now, in little spurts of memory. Where is everyone else? Where is my family? When was I brought in here? I feel bile rising in my throat as I feel a panic attack setting in, and I grind my hands against one another so as to try and free them from their ties. But it’s no use, of course. It only digs them into my skin more. 

I sit in silence listening to only the sounds of my uneven breathing, trying to calm myself and make a plan of action. No time to fall into fear, Jake. 

I maneuver my body around to get to the walls, standing on my sore legs to turn and let my hands run along them. There’s nothing there– no windows, no chairs or furniture. Just a box. I diligently run my hands along every one. Four walls. With nothing. Nothing but– 

A door. 

I turn my body to try and find a doorknob or whatever to open it, and when my hand finally grasps the spherical knob, I realize that the mother fucker is locked. Of course. I turn and slam my shoulder into it a few times to see if I can pry it, but it’s no use. “Hey! You son of a bitch! Let me out of here!” I yell again, getting mad, now. 

“Quiet, Jacob,” a voice I do not recognize suddenly fills the room. My stomach drops. 

I open my mouth to reply, but nothing really comes to mind. The voice is male, but distorted. Quiet? QUIET? 

“Who the fuck are you? Open this door and come and talk to me!” I yell again, my body suddenly feeling like my blood is going to pulse from every orifice of my body. 

There is a long pause. 

“I said quiet, Jacob,” it repeats. 

I grit my teeth. This voice is really pissing me off. 

“I’ll be quiet when you come in here and fucking show your face!” I yell even louder this time.

There is another long pause, and finally, I hear the metallic screeching of the heavy door opening. I waste no time in trying to push through it, relying on only my hearing to know what is going on, just as I had back at the cabin. Everything is so fucking dark.

But I get nowhere. I’m stopped by my body running into two stern and sturdy men again, pushing back further into the echoey room. I nearly lose my footing, but I press forward again, determined to get through that fucking door. But they stop me again, thrashing my body back so hard I hit one of the walls. It nearly knocks the breath from me, but I catch it. “Who are you? What do you want? I want to see my fam–”

“It’d really do you good to stay fucking quiet, like we told you to.” Suddenly I feel a gloved hand cupping across my mouth, stopping me from speaking. The man’s face is close to mine, whispering in my ear as he pins me back against the wall with his other arm. “Do you understand? Can you keep your voice down?” It asks, a little more lax. 

After a few seconds, I nod, but my mind doesn’t have the time to process another plan. Maybe if I cooperate, they’ll let me the fuck go. His hand slowly falls from my mouth, and I stay quiet, nothing filling the room now but my haggard and nervous breathing, again. “Who are you,” I whisper, my tone demanding. 

I notice that the second man must be standing behind the one still holding me to the wall, hearing him huff a laugh under his breath. How can they fucking see me? 

“Let’s just say that if you play your cards right, we’ll be your new best friends,” the man says as he releases my chest, allowing me to breathe. I hear the tear of velcro twice, realizing he must be taking his gloves off. 

“I don’t need any more fucking friends. I have plenty back at home,” I bark, still gritting my teeth as I stay at a quieter level. 

They laugh again. “Home? You mean the cabin you were holed up in? Barely surviving?” the man behind the first asks sarcastically. 

“Home is where my family is, actually,” I bite.

“Aww, isn’t that cute,” they laugh at me again as I hear that they’re both standing, now. I should try and run again, right? But it might get me knocked unconscious again. Maybe not. Not yet. 

“Little Jake Kiszka, maybe you really do have the heart of gold everyone says you have,” the first one says. “Maybe being rich and famous didn’t get to you, after all.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about? Who are you? How do you know my name?” I ask. 

They both scoff again. “You’re fairly fucking famous, my guy. Lots of people know your name,” the second one blurts. My guy? Who–

“Well it’s pretty convenient that I don’t know yours, seeing as how you have me fucking tied up in a pitch black room. Can we cut the shit? Or am I gonna have to try and run again?” I ask, completely over this game. Suddenly, I don’t feel very threatened. 

“You won’t get very far if you do, Jake,” the first one whispers, and I hear his boots step closer to me again, and his breath hot on my face. “Listen to me, and listen closely, okay? Are you listening?”

“Yeah, fuck, I’m listening,” I say.

“We told you to stay quiet for a reason. You’ve been captured by an outfit that’s been around for a long, long time. But you weren’t caught for just any reason,” he goes on, barely audible. 

“What does that mean? What reason?” I ask. 

“They’ve got reason to believe that you know.”

“Know what?” I ask, confused. 

“Why the fucking world ended. Or actually, how. Your brothers, you all wrote about this, didn’t you? In your music?” he goes on, and if I wasn’t confused before, I sure as shit am now. 

“What?!” I squeal, almost laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“Hmm-mm. They aren’t kidding. Does it feel like they’re kidding right now? No.”

“Why do you keep saying they? You are the one that’s got me locked up, right now,” I retort. 

“Because we’re pretending,” suddenly the other one is in my ear. “They think we work for them. The brunt work. The dirty jobs…. Like kidnapping you,” he says. 

“Listen Jake,” the other interrupts. “We know you, we know who you are. We were… we were fans of your band, back then. But these people, the ones who hired us, they trust us. And they have worse plans for you than holding you in a dark metal box with your hands tied…”

“Why me? Why did they take me?” I ask. 

“Your music, your songs… you fucking predicted more about all this than you think you did,” the other explains. 

Josh’s dreams. 

“We didn’t predict shit, we were just writing fucking songs, we didn’t–”

“All of it is real, Jake,” the first whispers, his lips brushing my hair. “The stories you told, the worlds you built… all of it exists, and has existed for a long time.”

“I don’t get it,” I say, blinking my eyes in the darkness. 

“The lyrics you wrote about, the Garden you all dreamt up… It exists. In a complete other realm.”

I damn near laugh in their faces. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? This is a joke?”

They stay quiet for a beat. “No jokes here, Jake. Just know that more is happening than you could ever even fathom. It’s not just the end of the world here. It’s the end of the world there, too. Well, it’s about to be, if the battle is lost,” the second says. 

“You’re both insane, and I’m in on some kind of prank. This is all a joke!” I argue. “We didn’t create that world...”

“No, you didn’t. But you knew about it. You wrote songs about it, didn’t you? You told tales of a Battle, wrote songs about war and peace, lyrics about the water rising, and the air so thin…”

My head is spinning. I’m getting a headache. And I could really use a fucking cigarette.

“Yeah, global fucking warming, who didn’t know about that?” I defend. 

They both laugh under their breath. “Let’s just say you guys literally wrote the time and space of another world as if you’d read their history books. And, lived there alongside them.” 

There’s no fucking way. This is absolutely ridiculous. 

“What do you mean if the battle is lost?” I ask, the question coming from my mere curiosity. 

The second crouches down in front of me again, from what I can tell. “Our world here has already begun to end, right? Technology itself is murdering us by the boatloads. The thing we created. It’s omnipresence became too much for earth to handle, started to suck away at her resources and poison her. Poison her natural way of ebb and flow. So she said fuck you humans, I don’t need you. You shall all suffer my wrath, and I’ll use the poison that you created to kill you,” his voice had gotten a little dramatic, as if he was reading a romantic tragedy. 

“Okay Shakespeare, we get it,” the first says, and I can’t help but laugh a little. “Here’s the thing… the other realm is suffering, too. What happens on earth is mirrored in that realm, but the mirror isn’t a clear reflection. It’s more of a…”

“Cloudy and messy shadow of what happens in our realm,” the other says. 

“Yeah, actually,” the first agrees. “It happens here, it happens there, just not the exact same way. So their world is suffering, too. But they’re going to try and stop it.”

“How are they going to do that?” I ask.

“...Have you not figured that out yet, man? Don’t you think that uh— capturing a few guys who have predicted it all to a tee so far and using them for information on what’s to come next wouldn’t be a nice and easy route for them?”

“You’re shitting me, right?” I say blankly. “You kidnapped me because they think I know what’s going to happen next after the world ends?”

“Mm, kind of. You’ve gotten it all right, so far.”

No, Josh has. Apparently.

“That and… a pretty good other reason,” the first mumbles. 

“What other reason?”

“You don’t have any signs of the rash yet, do you?” the second inquires, throwing me off. How would he know that?

“No… but what’s that have to do with all of this?” I say, my mind spinning. 

“You’re an immune. Just like us,” the second says with a bit of pride in his voice. 

“An immune? How the fuck do we know that we just haven’t gotten it yet?” I press. 

“You’ve seen how fast that shit kills people,” the first scoffs. “Don’t you think you would have at least shown a little bit of a sign of it, by now?” 

He’s right. It’s been months since the first sign of the rash, killed more people than I’d like to discuss. And quickly, too. But my whole family… none of us have shown signs…how are we all so lucky?

“Maybe the earth decided that she’d keep a few of us, the ones who aren’t fucking assholes,” the second barks, earning what sounds like a slap to the chest from the first. 

“I don’t think that’s how it worked, idiot,” he says. “Anyways, we’ve already spent too much time in here with you, Jake. But listen. Remember we’re all pretending. They’re going to push you, they’re going to make us push you. But we want you to know we’re on your team, even if we act like we’re not. They’re out collecting immunes as we speak, trying to put everyone into some type of commune to protect the longevity of mankind. But you’re special, because they think you know. They’re special because they’re immune. You following me?”

“When they kidnap more immunes they’ll group me with them, but treat me differently because they think I can help them, got it,” I say, catching on fairly easily, for some reason. 

“Bingo,” the second clicks his tongue. 

“Do the people who hired you live in the other realm, too? Like, why do they care?” I ask, feeling like I just read the plot of a fantasy novel.

“Think of it like a family intertwined between both worlds. They’re able to bounce back and forth, but they all take up space in both places. One realm can’t live without the other. That’s why they’re trying to stop the end of their world there, so they have somewhere to be if our’s ceases to exist,” the first explains. 

“That’s fucking confusing,” I whisper. “If ours ceases to exist, one can’t exist without the other. Isn’t Earth already too far gone?” 

“Maybe her inhabitants are almost wiped, but as a planet, she’s still got a long way to go before rejoining the cosmos. If the other realm is saved, it could power Earth enough to stop her eradication. Plus we have immunes. Earth won’t completely die, she’s just trying to do a hard restart, if that makes sense,” the second one adds. “She’s sick, and she’s trying to make herself healthy again.”

I let out a huff as I try and wrap my head around the dystopian film I’m apparently a part of now. Half of me thinks these guys are lying to me. Playing games to distract me. But then again, why would they be wasting their time?

“Play dumb, Jake. Pretend you don’t know a goddamn thing. Especially when they start to question you about what you guys wrote in this last album,” the first says, standing to his feet and putting his gloves back on, from what I can tell. “This isn’t gonna last forever, we’re going to put a stop to this.”

“You are? How?” I ask, pulling hard on the ties around my wrists. 

“We are. With your help,” the second whispers. “There’s a whole group of us who plan on breaking free of this shit, we’ve just got to trust each other that we can run. Gather up the other immunes once they’re captured and create our own destinies.”

“But, if we don’t go along with them, won’t Earth completely shit out on us? If their realm dies too?” I ask. 

“Catching on quickly, Jake. I’m impressed,” the first whispers. “If we recreate our own line of mankind from the immunes, everything will be okay. We just want to do it out from underneath the thumb of these selfish motherfuckers. We can do it on our own.”

The two of them turn on their heels and start to walk toward the door again, leaving me sitting in the floor. “Hey, where is my family?” I ask. 

“They were assigned elsewhere. Separated all of you, we don’t know where they ended up. Sorry, man,” the second says. And within seconds they’re both gone, and I’m alone, yet again.

Y/N

I trudge back inside the house now under the cover of darkness, after having spent a few minutes outside trying to breathe and calm myself. Paps has lit a few candles inside, and I can see the warm glow of them through the windows making the house look like a jack-o-lantern. I smile a little at the thought. As I push the door open and lock it behind me, I turn and notice he’s stood by the kitchen table, a few more candles lit across it. There in front of him are two bowls of potato soup. 

“Paps, this is so nice of you,” I mumble as I hang my afghan on the back of a chair. “I thought you said you weren’t up for eating tonight?” 

“Your Gran would have been ticked if she knew we were too upset to feed ourselves, you know that’s a fact,” he says, pulling my chair out for me. I take a seat and I can smell the herbs he’s put into the soup.

“You’re right…” I agree. “She wouldn’t have been happy with us at all.”

“Plus, figure you could pretend one of these candles is on a birthday cake, and blow it out. Since we didn’t get to celebrate you the right way,” he adds as he takes his own seat. 

“I think I could do that,” I say, picking up my spoon to dig in. “Thank you Paps, you’re really too good to me.”

“We’re all we’ve got, sweetheart.”

As we eat, I watch as Paps’ hands seem weaker now, and how they shake a little as he brings his spoon to his mouth. He’s done an excellent job on the soup, but we both know we’re choking it down, both of our stomachs too wrought with nerves and heartbreak to enjoy it like we should. 

As we clean our bowls, he pushes one of the candles toward me, holding his hand out to motion for me to blow. The candle is old and burned through almost all the wax, but it still smells of pumpkin and apple pie. “Don’t forget to make a wish, sweetheart. And make it a good one,” he says, giving me a sweet wink from behind his glasses. 

I take a deep breath and wrack my brain, feeling like making a wish right now is selfish. Normally, I’d wish for a happy next year, health and fortune for my family, or even for the next man that walks into my life to be the right one. 

But all of that feels stupid now, pointless to request of the universe. 

Next year isn’t even promised. 

Over half of my family is gone. 

And no man is destined to walk into my life to better it in the least, let alone offer me kinship of any kind. 

So instead I wish for Paps to stay as healthy as possible for as long as possible, and that the universe bestows good things upon us both. Because like he said, we’re all we’ve got. 

+++

After I’ve cleaned the dishes and tidied the kitchen, I’m stopped in my tracks from the same sound I heard coming through the walls last night– the sound of quiet, staticy music. 

I find Paps with his record player again, cranking the handle on the side as the sound begins to spill from the horn. For a second, I’m happy that he’d kept this old thing, knowing that without it, we wouldn’t be able to hear music at all, probably ever again. 

I step up beside him and watch it spin, listening to “Lovin’ You More Every Day” by Etta James drift into the air. I know that Gran loved this one, too. It was one of the songs they danced to at their wedding. 

So I take his hand in mine, pulling him to stand with me on the old oriental rug in the middle of the room. I begin to sway around as he gently places his hand on my back, swaying right along with me. We’re dancing a little too slowly for the speed of the song, but neither of us care. We’re just enjoying our time, wishing that Gran was here to clap for us after the song ends. But as it comes to a close, we’re met again with static, waiting silently for the first note of the next song. 

“You’re a bit too big now to stand on my feet,” he says through a stiff smile. 

“Maybe so,” I giggle. “But it was your training that got rid of my two left feet…gave me a sense of some rhythm…” I grin. 

He smiles again as he sniffles through some more tears. “I’m sorry I won’t be there to dance with you at your own wedding, sweetheart,” he mumbles as he pulls me close, and my heart shatters into a million pieces. 

“Now Paps, don’t talk like that…” I argue. “Lord knows I’m not gonna find a man who can dance better than you, anyway.”

I hear a chuckle run through his chest. “May be, sweetheart. May be.”

We sway along to a few more songs before we’re both yawning. “Believe I’m gonna hit the hay,” he says solemnly, patting me on the head a few times before making his way to throw a few more logs onto the fire. 

“Me too, I’ll see you in the morning?” I ask, realizing that this will be the first night in over sixty years that he is going to sleep knowing he won’t wake up to the love of his life. 

“When the rooster crows, my sweet. Love you.”

“I love you, Paps,” I say as we part ways, drifting off to our respective rooms. 

I’m thankful the weather isn’t too horrendous tonight as I snuggle into my bed, pulling the covers onto my chest. I relax, but leave my candle lit, staring up at the ceiling and recounting the day. The look on Gran’s face as she finally met peace, no longer feeling the wrenching burn of the rash that had enveloped her body. Poor Paps. I can’t even imagine what he’s feeling, right now. 

I grab my journal back up and flip to the page I’d left off on, realizing I’d stopped in the middle of a thought. Instead of finishing it, I start a new one. 

I write about Gran’s passing, how and where we buried her, how I adorned her hands and wrists with all her old jewelry, and how Paps had made me a special birthday supper. I try to be as detailed as possible, leaving nothing out as I let my hand flow from print to cursive. My eyes begin to get heavy as the candle light flickers, and I realize just how exhausted I am. How mentally and physically drained I’ve become, simply from trying my best to stay alive. 

My eyes close a little, drifting down onto my forearm that’s covered in tattoos. My dad hated them, but Paps and Gran always told me they were an expression of my life at the time, like a roadmap of all of the things I loved, when I loved them. Keepsakes I’ll never part with. I always thought it strange, that coming from grandparents from an era of humans who normally found tattoos distasteful, but. 

But they were right. I have over twenty tattoos, but my forearm is dedicated to the band that I knew and loved so much, and who brought me some of the happiest times of my life.

The first one sits right in the crook of my elbow, a simple sun and crescent moon that I got right after I fell in love with From the Fires. Then words, right below that, reading ‘In an age of darkness, light appears’ in small font, wrapping all the way around my arm. Under that, a swirling symbol that resembles a radar, 13 lines that make an almost complete circle to commemorate the song that reminds me to step back into the natural world. Beneath that, a sword and an arrow, parallel with one another. And lastly, a symbol that truly represented their fifth album, lines shaped into what looks like a bird in flight. 

I never got to get a tattoo from this last album. And honestly, the darkness of the theme of it made choosing what I would have gotten a little difficult, anyway. 

I run my hand over the dark black ink and my mind begins to sleepily drift. I wonder what my friends are doing right now…are they alive? Are they sad, too? Are they still clinging to the good times we shared to keep their minds from falling into the deep depths of solitude?

My fingers stop over the Age of Machine tattoo, the little ridges of the skinny lines still rigid on my skin. I think about how much this tattoo reminded me to unplug and drown myself in nature every chance I got. How that song truly motivated me to do the exact opposite of letting myself be pulled into the false world of social media, and spend my time in my garden, or swept up in a book. Strange, now… thinking about how it made me feel when I listened. Haunted, dizzy, and uneasy. Scared, almost, but cautious. Ominous and anxious, but in the most peaceful way. Now I’m glad of the inspiration it gave me. Maybe that’s why I haven’t gotten the rash. It’s almost like that song was warning us of what was to come…

What are the men who wrote this music doing right now? Are they okay, too? My heart wrenches in a different way than it has, yet. Yearning to know of the state of people I had never met, yet worried about the wellbeing of for so many years of my life. “Silly,” I whisper to myself. But, it’s not silly. It’s just the heart they helped me find within myself to care about other people so deeply.

I close my pencil into my book again as I blow out my candle, thinking of all the nights I went to sleep excited to wake up before the sun and double check the luggage I’d packed, grabbing a quick coffee before I hit the road to travel to god knows where to see my friends and my favorite band again. Carefree, and careless. Living my life the way I wanted to, choosing the road ahead to achieve that happiness I’d always chased when it came to hearing their music live. Life unchained, the way Gran lived hers. 

+++

Just as my body is relaxing into a well-deserved sleep, I’m awoken by a loud rumble, a deafening sound so deep that I feel it in my bones. I shoot up in bed, realizing that the bed below me is shaking, vibrating. I pull the covers back quickly, rushing down the hall to find Paps already coming toward me with his candle in hand. 

“What’s going on?!” I yell above the loud rumbles. 

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” he yells back, and we both make our way to the large picture window in the living room. The moonlight illuminates the hillside of the farm, revealing a giant faultline that reaches from one side of the field all the way to the next. 

“Shit,” Paps mutters as I feel panic setting into my gut. “Faultline.”

“What’s that mean?! Paps, what is it?” I ask in succession, watching as the crack as wide as a river is eating up the ground.

“Probably another sink hole. Or one is going to happen nearby, I’d say,” he barks as he turns and rushes back to his room. “We’ve got to go. We’ve got to run,” he hollers. 

What?! Run?? We can’t run! 

“Paps, but the house! We’re alread–”

“Get your backpack. Get dressed, hurry! We’ve got to get away from it!” he commands, his voice booming. The house begins shaking again as I run to my room, throwing on my pants, jacket, and boots, and tossing my heavy emergency backpack over my shoulders. I make sure to secure my toboggan onto my head before stuffing my journal into the free pocket of my backpack, rushing back out into the living room to find Paps ready and waiting. 

I hear plates and dishes falling from the shelves of the kitchen, and books falling off the shelves of the living room. It’s just like an earthquake, except I had watched a crevice form in the ground, right before my eyes. My hands are shaking, and I am already broken out in a cold, panicked sweat.  We rush to the truck, throwing our things into the bed as we climb inside. 

“Hank! Where’s Hank?!” I yell, looking around for him. 

“Leave him, we’ve got to go,” Paps says as he turns the key in the ignition, hearing the engine purr to life for just a second, before shutting right back off. He tries again, pumping the fuel pedal to get the block to heat and the glow plugs to light. “Fuck, fuck!! Come on, baby! Don’t do this!” he yells, trying to coax the machine. But it’s to no avail. The battery has died.

We open the doors and clamber to grab our bags again, realizing that on foot is our only means of escaping the growing faultline. We take off rushing down the dirt road, still hearing the deep rumble of the ground separating behind us. I wish I could describe the sound, a noise unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. The cracking and snapping of deep roots, the crashing of trees, a low bellowing sound so deep that it sounds like it came from hell, itself. Unreal. And utterly fucking terrifying. 

My legs carry me, and luckily so do Paps’, straight down the long driveway and back onto the main road. I hear the wood of the house start to creak, and more wooden-sounding bangs. Fuck. Please, not the house… 

“Should we go to the woods?” I pant, knowing that Paps is just as out of breath as I am. 

“No, to the knoll,” he points, panting too as he motions toward the top of a high hill. When we finally make it there, we stop, taking a breather as now it feels as though we’re far enough from the field to get a better view of everything that lies beneath. And there, right in the center of the field is another sinkhole, giant and deep and dark with half the farm swallowed up in it. 

Luckily, the house is untouched.

“How on God’s green Earth…” Paps breathes as he lets his hands fall to his knees, trying to catch his breath as the two of us look down on the scene in front of us. Like it was straight from a horror film. 

“Had to of been Gran. She wouldn’t let the devil himself take her home, if it was the last thing she did,” I say, earning a breathy laugh from Paps. 

“You’re goddamn right, sweetheart. You’re goddamn right,” he says, finally catching his breath. “We need to run, we’re pretty close to this thing, still.” We take off again, rushing back down the road as we still hear the ground shaking below us. We hear trees falling in the distance, and we begin running again. I’m truly thankful for Paps’ stamina and heart right now, his legs getting him to safety even at his age. 

“Keep going, Paps, not much further,” I encourage him, just in case he needs it. “We’re okay, we’re okay…”

Suddenly, I see a set of headlights in the distance, barreling down the road towards us in a cloud of dust. When it finally approaches, I flag it down until it stops beside us. An old man is sitting in the driver’s seat, his face just as panicked as ours. “Hop in! Hop in!” he says, and we listen. Paps and I rush to the passenger side and slide into the cab, the man already hitting the gas before Paps can even shut the door all the way. 

“You’ve got to turn around!” I say, “There are sinkholes this way!”

He turns the wheel harshly, and I’m glad he listens to me. We rush back the opposite way, zooming down the road so fast I can hardly fathom what’s happening. Pure panic. 

“We’re alright, Paps, we made it out,” I try and calm him, reaching for my canteen of fresh water and offering it to him as he catches his breath. 

Suddenly we’re being thrust forward as the man steps on the brake, and I’m close to cursing him before I notice he’s stopped before another faultline in the road. “My god…” the man says, opening his truck door and climbing out. 

“No, no… what are you doing?!” I yell, wondering why in the hell this man is getting out of our escape vehicle and walking towards the crack in the ground. I watch as he steps closer to it, inching his steps as he peers down over the edge. “Is he insane?! Are you insane? Please, come back!!” I scream, but he doesn’t listen. The ground shakes again, throwing the man off balance as it makes him stumble, swallowing him right up into it. 

“Oh my god!!” I yell as Paps lets out a guttural scream. My hand covers my mouth as I yell in disbelief, watching as the man is there one second, and gone the next. 

“Drive, Y/N, drive!” Paps urges me, pushing my arms to scoot to the driver’s seat. I throw the truck in reverse, pulling the door closed as I rush to get us away from it all, pushing the pedal to the floor as my eyes scan for more faultlines. It feels as though we’re surrounded by them. My heart is pounding, now, as my body does the necessary work on auto pilot. 

“Keep going! Keep going!” Paps says as we get closer to town, and away from the vibrating ground. After a few minutes of shaking panic, it feels like the buzzing of the ground has subsided, and I can finally take a deep breath. A shaky one, but a breath nonetheless. 

As I finally allow my eyes to adjust and my hands to stretch, I’m finally feeling in control of my body again. Okay, okay, I’ve got this. Just keep driving. “Paps, you okay?”

“I’m okay sweetheart, you okay?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” I breathe, taking another deep breath in to calm my shaking body. “God, why the fuck did he do that?”

“Couldn’t tell ya, dumb and curious, I guess,” he says, taking another drink from the canteen before offering it to me. “Head toward the city, we’ll need to find a place to hunker down, tonight.”

And though my heart is still pounding as his words hit me, I take the right turn off the state route to head to the interstate, both of us in high hopes that the city will offer us more than it did when we left it. But honestly, I’m losing faith. 

I’d been driving for nearly twenty minutes on the empty road before I take a cutoff exit, determined to cut our drive time down and conserve fuel. The exit leads to a sideroad that is heavily wooded, but I know it will get us to the city more quickly. As the headlights shine down the two-lane road, I notice some kind of dark, shadowed figures standing down in the distance. I blink a few times, trying to see what is there. 

“Is that deer?” I ask Paps. 

“Can’t tell, it’s too dark,” he says, so I slow my pace. My headlights do little to light them up, but the closer we get, the more human they look. Tall, dark… just standing there?

And they aren’t moving. I bring the truck to a stop, my headlights almost no help at all as the figures begin to close in on us, instead of moving out of the road. 

“The hell is this, what’s happening?” Paps yells as the figures have us completely blocked from continuing down the road, now. My panic returns. I hear Paps cock his shotgun. “Drive, drive!!!”

My foot smashes the pedal to the floor, but the truck doesn’t move. The tires screech as I continue pushing it, willing the truck to keep going. But it won’t. It’s like I’m running it into a brick wall. “What’s happening!! Why won’t it go?!” I scream, my hands gripping the wheel as the truck begins to fishtail from the force of the tires on the ground. The lights from the truck are completely gone, now. We’re in total darkness. “Paps!”

“I’m here, I’m here, honey!” and I feel him grab my hand. Suddenly the truck doors slam open, and my body is being grabbed and pulled from the seat. I thrash and kick at whatever has grabbed me, but nothing works. It’s too strong. I feel a painful hit to my head, and my ears scream as I start to lose consciousness. I feel a dark cover be put over my head and secured, completely blocking my vision altogether. “Paps!!!!” I try and yell, but I’m slipping quickly into unconsciousness as my voice is barely a squeal. My hands are being tied in front of me, and all I feel is cold. 

+++

I wake up in a cold sweat, my hands still bound as I sit with my back against a metal wall. My breathing is ragged as I try and take in my surroundings, and I realize I still have the covering over my head. I wince in pain from the impact of whatever hit my head earlier. I hear others beside me, many crying, panicked voices whimpering in the same room. I try and make a sound, but my voice is hoarse from screaming. I try and speak, but there is tape over my mouth. What is happening, where is Paps?!

My heart is pounding in my chest as I try to raise my bound hands and remove the covering, but it’s secured tightly. I’m in pitch black darkness, and I can’t see a fucking thing. I try to stand, but my muscles are weak and sore, and I can hardly will them to move, let alone stand. It’s unclear how long I was knocked out, and how long I have been sitting in this cold, metal room, but it feels like only a few minutes have passed. I feel tears begin running down my face, I feel so helpless, so exhausted. So blind.  

Suddenly I hear a loud noise, like a heavy metal door being thrust open. I see a light through the covering over my face, and I try and yell again. But nothing comes out. Just like in those nightmares where you are unable to make a sound. I hear footsteps come into the room, heavy boots pounding against the concrete floor. My covering is forcefully removed, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the bright light. 

Finally, I’m able to see eight or ten others with me, all of us sitting with our hands bound, lined up against the walls of this room. Some beside me, some directly across from me. I watch as two tall, masked men work their way around the room, removing each and every face covering. A woman, a man, a teenaged boy, an elderly lady… and then, Paps. I make excited eye contact with him as I feel a squeal leave my taped lips. He’s safe. He’s here. 

I watch as the rest of the covers are removed one by one, the person seated directly across from me being saved for last. They leave him sitting for a few seconds as they exchange what looks to be laughs with one another before one of them gently kicks his legs a little before undoing his head covering. 

The man’s face is beaten and bruised, his brown hair tangled and long and falling in front of his face as he winces in pain. They throw his face covering back down to the floor beside him, laughing again as they turn and leave the room without a word, locking the door behind them. 

I peer to the hair-covered face again to get a better look, and I swear if my mouth wasn’t taped shut, I would have screamed out in disbelief. 

That’s Jake fucking Kiszka.

He feels my eyes on him as he finally looks up to me, noticing my awkward stare. Neither of us can speak. I feel myself smiling under the tape, what are the fucking odds? What is happening?! Where the fuck are we?

His eyes grow wide as he realizes I know him, and he stares back at me in utter confusion. Do I tell him I recognize him? Shit, he can probably tell I do, by now. For some odd reason unbeknownst to me, I maneuver my tied hands to slowly pull up the sleeve of my shirt, showing him the splattering of tattoos that line my forearm. I know you. I watch his eyes see them as I straighten my arm out, willing him to see them, recognize them.

I watch his chest rise and fall as he begins shaking his head slowly side to side, his breathing picking up significantly as he looks at me with red, swollen eyes. 

No? Is he telling me no?

Just as I hear the sound of the heavy footsteps coming back down the hall, I watch as Jake slowly lifts his bound hands to his face, his pointer finger sticking up in front of his taped mouth. 

My stomach falls as I realize he’s serious. Not only is he telling me no, he’s telling me to stay quiet.

Tags: @gretavangroupie @britney-gvf @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick@kiszka-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @jenniferkiszka @jjwasneverhere @gvfmarge @pineapple-photographer @vanfleeter

[sadstrever]

i’m still 114lbs. i feel sick. yesterday was an awful day, i came home and had an out of body chew and spit session. i wish there was more research on this part of ed’s, or just more people who talked about it because i can’t be alone in this. i refuse to believe i’m the only sick person who does disgusting shit like this. anyways the reason why i call it an out of body experience is because it’s almost like binging-just without all the swallowing of food. i came home and immediately started doing it and filled up 1 and 1/2 2 liter bottles with food. i spent 5 hours doing this without even realizing and pretty much emptied out my whole families fridge. the guilt i felt afterwards was worse than a binge in my opinion. not only did i totally waste SO MUCH food, make a huge mess, ended up with disgusting bottles of mush in my room, i also have to face the consequences of my family coming home to an empty fridge. but when they got home they were happy that i “ate.” god i’m such a fucking piece of shit.

anyways after all that i took 4 laxatives to try and get the guilt of wasting the food out of me. i woke up in the morning today in terrible pain but still had to go to class, cuz what am i supposed to tell my parents? “yeah i haven’t eaten in almost a month and basically just threw all the food we have out in the trash and i also took 4 laxatives, can i please stay home tehe?” so i went to 1 class and ended up leaving because the pain was so excruciating. straight from class i went to the gym and somehow burnt 900 calories because i guess that’s what guilt does to me. i had to take the bus 2 hours home afterwards(bus delays and i went to a new further gym location this time), high out of my mind. i’m home now and my stomach hurts but the laxatives finally did their job. i don’t want to keep doing this. 4 years ago i said i’d recover and then i didn’t. since then i’ve forgotten about recovery (with the exception of a few random moments here and there that i block out immediately), i am so used to living in this fucking misery that i didn’t realize how abnormal my reality is. i don’t want to be a bad person anymore. but i can’t stop lol.

this is what bothers me about the girls who romanticize this disorder SO MUCH, when much of the time they haven’t realized how difficult it can become. i know i’ve done this, even now sometimes as a coping mechanism. but man, i’m sick of it.

i have a friend who writes poetry and she wrote a poem about eating disorders that make me so fucking angry. the thing is, i’ve known her for years and she’s always had the best relationship with food out of most of the people i know. she’s naturally pretty thin(not too thin but normal) and she’s very open about her struggles. i know every single one of her stories, i know she’s diagnosed with adhd. that’s HER disorder, that i don’t understand so i DONT write fucking POETRY about it. a few months ago she kind of forced me into opening up about my eating disorder. after i did, suddenly she started writing these stories about her eating disorder-very very very suspiciously similar to mine. i obviously didn’t tell her everything but i told her about how long this has been going on and just my emotions about it. seeing her start to adapt my fucking disorder into her poetry disgusted me. she glamorized the fuck out of it and made me feel so stupid for ever opening up about it. she’s naturally skinny so she got a bunch of support from our friend group from it and i’m just upset man. i’m sick of living in misery while other people can use the idea of living in pain for attention.

i promised my best friend that in 3 weeks i’ll go back to therapy and try my best to recover. it’s not true. man it’s never fucking true. it’s never fucking over. unlike ms.deep-poetry-girl i can’t just fucking write this and log off and then eat a good warm meal and talk to my parents without them mentioning my body. i can’t wake up tomorrow morning and hug them without worrying that they’re gonna feel my bones. i can’t wear shorts anymore without people noticing the bruises. i can’t go to school and keep my focus because i have nothing to feed my brain. i can’t let anyone get close because soon enough they’ll be just like YOU. OR they’ll hate me for not wanting to get better. i can’t love myself like you do because of the disgusting things i do each day. i can’t wake up thinner and suddenly stop hating myself. FUCK YOUUUUUUUU GOD IM SO SICK OF IT GOD. whatever im done. just sick and tired.

[selfpositiveundertale]

Long post.

TW: car accident

Hey everyone. I'm not doing great.

I've already been having a hard time with migraines getting absolutely out of hand and interfering with literally everything in my life, but yesterday I had my first car accident. The meme I just posted is relevant. It was my fault but thankfully only me in the vehicle. Other than bruised knees(I'm short so I had the seat pulled up close so I could reach the pedals) and some mild rug burns where the air bag got me on my left hand and my neck (I had instinctively raised my arms to protect my face), I don't think I was injured in any way my chiropractor couldn't fix. Definitely jarred my entire skeleton and dislocated some ribs and messed up my neck but what else is new. I didn't hit my head and nothing hurts in any way I'm not already deeply familiar with. Surprisingly I haven't gotten a migraine yet but I'm fully expecting one soon.

Really good thing I wasn't wearing my sunglasses. I lost the pendent off my necklace though. It must have broken off when the air bag blew and then fallen into the road when I got out of the vehicle.

My vehicle is totaled. Not a great loss since the thing was on its last legs anyway but it sucks not having my own transportation now, even if I could only drive in town and couldn't leave town because it wouldn't make it far on the interstate. It would start shaking like a leaf any time I went over 50 mph and I didn't like that. I'm really sore and tired and shaken up but I'm getting through it.

My husband came immediately when I called him and he talked to the car insurance company and called his boss to take the rest of the day off work so he could be with me.

The people in the other car were mostly okay other than the man having a cut on his forehead and his wife having a scraped knee but both of their babies were completely unharmed, thank goodness. Nobody was mad at me, possibly because I was hysterical panicking inconsolable and kept apologizing and asking if they were okay. They were also on their way to the car dealership to see about getting a new vehicle anyway, so I think they'll be fine.

I made an appointment with my chiropractor this morning and he checked everything and basically said I was in pretty bad shape but not really any worse than usual, which was a great relief but not surprising. He fixed the ribs, my shoulder blades, neck, and hands and gave me some samples of a supplement he said might help the soreness. I'm also taking my painkillers, OTC pain medicine, and applying arnica cream to the bruises.

I've been so tired and sore and haven't been up to doing much of anything except eating my feelings but I'm making sure my pets get fed and helping my husband get ready for work in the morning. I don't think I'll be able to meal prep anything for him like I normally do and he says it's okay, he's not expecting anything of me if I don't feel up to it and he doesn't mind buying his breakfast and lunch.

I fear the financial repercussions of this, especially since things have already been very tight due to several sudden veterinary expenses. The cat gods looked at us and went "kittens upon you and your household" so in the last 4 weeks there have been 2 vet visits for a tiny baby runt of a kitten my husband found alone and abandoned at his workplace, one for a very pregnant stray kitty that followed a family member home and popped out 7 babies, and one for my dog when she caught a UTI. We think she's over it by now but I'm taking her back to the vet Friday for a recheck. It's been hard with her because she's been refusing to eat her dry food and we've been having to buy wet food as well as chicken breast and white rice and alternating between the wet food and a bland diet when the antibiotics made her tummy upset. I'm really hoping that by Friday I'll be brave enough to drive. The vet isn't far and my mom is going to let me take her old car for whatever I need until we manage to get me another used vehicle.

I know the car insurance is going to go up because of the crash even though now there's one less vehicle on it, and I'm praying to the heavens that I don't have to actually go to a doctor and get checked out because of the crash.

I need to see a doctor anyway about the migraines that are now coming several times a week and affecting me in unsettling ways like impairing my speech, making me nauseous when I use my eyeballs for their intended purpose, and even made me collapse once. But the clinic I usually go to because the price is income based is in the next town and I'd definitely have to have my husband take time off work to take me. I also fear they'll refer me to a neurologist. I'm certain I need to see one but since I don't have health insurance and the process for getting financial assistance at any given specialist office is (probably deliberately) incredibly difficult and tedious and almost not even worth the effort, it just doesn't seem feasible at this time.

I am trying to make things to stock my Etsy shop so I can make some money but at the moment I just don't have the energy for it. But maybe I should try anyway. The simple repetitive action of crocheting while listening to a book or Old Gods Of Appalachia might help me settle down and feel more normal. My hands ache but my compression gloves might help.

Things are just extremely scary and very painful right now. Staying determined is hard but I'm trying. I'm trying so hard.

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

[crystalsnow95z]

Yoongi throwing up when he's working with Jimin on a song together because of a 24 hour bug, having to give him a shower because he got barf in his hair and Jimin having to put him to bed because he was too weak to walk

This is a prompt my roommate gave me when I first started writing because I lacked confidence to use Yoongi as more than a background character and her bias Jimin. I was going through old drafts and found this. I wanted a story with Yoongi for his birthday and this is the best out of my 4 options.

"We did it! We got through the new choreography without any mistakes!" Jungkook cheers, hugging onto the closest member in excitement, Yoongi pushing him away.

"Jungkook, please don't hug me.. It's too hot for that..." Yoongi complains, relaxing when Jungkook moves to hug j-hope instead.

"Let's take a five minute... break to cool off. Great work, everyone." J-hope praises his members, hugging Jungkook briefly before also sending him away, still trying to catch his own breath.

Yoongi goes to the mirror where he left his water, taking a drink before passing it to Hobi.

"Thanks hyung.." j-hope takes a drink, eyes widening when he realized he finished it. "Sorry, I didn't realize how thirsty I was."

"I'll get us some more water." Jungkook offers when he finishes his own bottle. "It looks like everyone's empty.." he notes watching Jimin share his water with Jin and Taehyung with Namjoon.

"That'd be great." Yoongi says with gratitude. This new choreography has me feeling woozy.. i didn't think I drank that much last night..my tolerance must've went down from when I wasn't drinking. .

"You okay hyung?" Jimin asks, offering Yoongi the last bit of his water,but Yoongi pushes it back towards him.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just tired..i think i drank too much with Dong-hyuk.." Yoongi didn't want to worry Jimin over a little stomach ache. I'll just take something for it if it gets worse.

"Too tired to work on music with me after practice today?" Jimin's asks, wanting to give him the option to back out. He's been working on his own music on top of the team, I shouldn't have asked him yesterday..

"I can still work on music with you Jimin-ah. If you wanted to practice the choreography with me, that's where I'd tell you no." Yoongi tells him, smiling despite the small ripples of pain that moved throughout his lower abdomen.

"Are you sure? It's okay if you're too tired, though. I could ask someone else."Jimin asks again, trying to get a good look at Yoongi, but the ballcap he was wearing cast shadows over his face, making it unreadable.

Jungkook goes over by them, giving both of them a water bottle. "Here hyung. Try to stay hydrated.. you look a little pale Jiminie hyung."

"Thanks Jaykay, I gave all my water to Namjoonie-hyung." Jimin takes a drink. "I'm fine though. I'm more worried about Yoongi hyung."

Yoongi takes small sips, not wanting to risk worsening the ache in his abdomen. "I'm fine. You guys worry too much. I should be worrying about you two with all your extra lessons."

"It's only English, singing and boxing." Jungkook says as if that wasn't a lot on top of their practices, interviews and meetings.

"Let's work on your album at your place Jimin-ah. My studio is a mess right now." Yoongi blushes lightly, recalling his moment of frustration causing a mess of papers he'll have to go through later.

"Tired of looking at your studio?" Jimin muses, smiling when he sees color returning to Yoongi's cheeks after drinking water."I'll make us dinner when we get to my place. I went shopping yesterday."

"Sounds good. It's been quite a while since I had a homemade meal." Yoongi couldn't bring himself to say he wasn't feeling all that hungry when Jimin was so excited about it.

"Alright break time is over. We have one more song I want to get all the way through then we can go home. We have an early morning tommorrow so I don't want us staying too late."

"Hyung dinner is ready. Do you want a bottle of soju with me?" Jimin asks while setting the table. "I made a little bit of everything.."

"No, I'd rather have some tea. We have to get up early and I struggled getting up this morning. You can drink if you want to though." Yoongi waves away the bottle, his medicine he took while Jimin was showering after practice only just now kicking in.

"I'll make us both tea. I didn't think ahead about getting up in the morning.. hobi-hyung will scold me for sure if I'm late a third time this week." Jimin fills a tea kettle with water then takes a seat at the table, taking a bit of rice and stir fry for himself. "Did you really like the third song? I think the lyrics need some work.."

"The lyrics aren't the problem, it's the chorus..it's too rushed.." Yoongi picks up where they left off, getting himself some rice to start with.

"The chorus did feel fast.. should I add a line or..maybe just slow down the music..?" Jimin takes a bite of steak, pulling his notebook closer.

"What if you try this.." Yoongi sings the chorus, changing the notes.

"Oh that sounds good.." Jimin mimicks Yoongi, rushing to get a keyboard.

"Jimin-ah, Jimin-ah take a break to eat.." Yoongi sighs with a smile when he realizes Jimin doesn't hear him, trying to mimic the notes on the keys."The first note is D not C."

"Aish I need to practice more.. could you play it for me?" Jimin asks, Yoongi happy to oblige. The bowl of kimchi fried rice was already sitting uncomfortably in his stomach.

Yoongi hits the notes for Jimin, writing them down."You should ask Supreme Boi to help you, this song is right up his alley."

"Do you think hyung has time to work with me?" Jimin asks. "I'm not as good at writing as you or Hobi hyung or-"

"Don't compare yourself, you're good at writing songs too, you just lack confidence. All of you kids do." Yoongi scolds Jimin, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll ask him then.." jimin blushes at Yoongi's praise, jumping up when he hears the kettle screaming."Ah, the tea is ready."

"Ahhh...mm...hmm.." Jimin sings, trying to match his voice to the notes on the page. "Why can't i get this right?" Jimin asks Yoongi, biting his lip. I sounded so bad..

"You're singing two octaves too high. Are you still nervous? You don't have to be. I've heard you sing a milion times of times." Yoongi tries to calm Jimin's shaken nerves.

"Do you think we should touch up the first verse? Is it too immature? Maybe we should-" Jimin stops when he feels Yoongi's finger touch his lips.

"Jimin-ah, shh. The lyrics are fine. Stop it. Your song is good.. you're just stressing yourself out."Yoongi places his hand on Jimin's shoulder. "I know you're nervous about asking someone to do a collaboration with you, but just because they say no, it doesn't mean your song isn't good. They could just be too busy or don't...mm.." Yoongi moans softly as a ripple of pain bubbles up in his stomach, making him dizzy with nausea.

"Hyung what's wrong? Are you okay?" Jimin wraps his arm around Yoongi's shoulder to keep him from double over.

"My stomach..it..just..don't feel well all of the sudden.." Yoongi speaks softly, lying to the younger member. Why did the medicine wear off already, it's only been two hours..

"Do you feel like you're going to be sick?" Jimin asks, trying to gently lead Yoongi to his feet when he sees the color drain from his lips. "Aiigo Yoongi.."

Yoongi let out a wet burp, his body trembling with cold sweat as he tried to hold down his dinner that was quickly rising up his throat, clinging to Jimins arm for balance. "Jimin-ah.." He whines with urgency when his vision faded, another burp pushing up the meal Jimin made, the sick spraying across the floor halfway to the bathroom. "I'm..I'm sorry..I...I can't.."

"Don't be sorry.. it's okay.. I have a little bin in my room. Just wait here it's closer.." Jimin runs into his room, grabbing the small bin, eyes widening when he hears Yoongi retching again, heart tightening. I should've noticed something was wrong sooner. He's been silently suffering while I feel sorry for myself..

"Here hyung, I'm back.. just move back just a little bit okay?" Jimin pulls him back a bit to be able to place the bin without having Yoongi kneeling in his own sick.

Yoongi takes Jimin's hand, squeezing it when another waterfall of sick pushes up, hitting the plastic liner. "F*ck..." he whimpers wrapping his other hand around his cramping muscles as another mouthful comes.

"I know, I know it hurts.. but you'll feel better once you let it all out.." Jimin tries to sound reassuring, but his voice trembled. I've never seen him so sick.. I can see the sweat rolling off his chin.. is he running a fever?

Jimin reaches to touch the back of Yoongi's neck, shocked at the amount of heat coming off of it. "You're burning up.."

"Hyung..." Yoongi calls weakly before another wave of nausea hits him, thick bile rising up his throat, gagging up more sick.

"Hyung is at home, but I'm here.. it's okay.. I got you.." Jimin gently scratches Yoongi's back, giving his hand a squeeze. I need to calm him down, he's hardly getting a breath in..

Yoongi continued to heave despite having nothing left in his stomach. Make it stop..it hurts so much..I wish I never ate anything today..

"Yoongi, Yoongi-yah you have to take deep breaths..i know its not easy..but you have to try for me..please?' Jimin felt his eyes misting with tears, his heart breaking to hear Yoongi's sharp gasps of pain between the dry heaves.

Yoongi closes his eyes, trying to take deep breaths, moaning softly when a sharp pain spikes up his side, pressing his palm into it. "Aish..i..i..it hurts.. Jimin-ah.."

"You probably got a stich from your muscles overworking..are you finished now? Do you want to move to lay in bed?"

"I..I just.." Yoongi backs into Jimin, leaning against him. "I just need to..rest..i don't want to move..I'm so dizzy.."

"We can stay here as long as you need. I just want you to be comfortable.." Jimin kisses the top of Yoongi's head, gently running his hand up and down Yoongi's side. "You should've told me you weren't feeling well sooner Hyung.."

Yoongi tries to focus on slowing his breathing, wincing with every inhale. "I know..I'm stupid..but..please.." I don't need a scolding from you..I'm aware I fu*ked up..

"I'm sorry..I know.. I'm just.. I don't want you to feel like you have to be strong for us..you like to handle things on your own and you don't have to.."

Yoongi turns to his side,focusing on matching his breathing with Jimin's listening to his racing heart. I must've really scared him..

"Are you okay yoongi-yah?" Jimin asks, brushing Yoongis hair from his face.

"I..I don't know.. I don't think I have anything left..but I still feel dizzy.." Yoongi speaks in a raspy whisper.

"You should stay the night with me.. you shouldn't drive if you feel this poorly.. do you want me to carry you?"

"If you can.. I think I can stand with your help though.." Yoongi gasps in surprise when he feels Jimin start picking him up lifting him off the floor. "Jimin slow, slowly.." he wraps his arms around Jimin's neck, feeling his stomach churn. "Mm..."

"Sorry, sorry..I'll move slow. It's okay.. I got you.." Jimin moves slowly, tensing when he realized he didn't have the arm strength he thought he had, feeling Yoongi slipping. "Almost there..just..hold on tightly okay..?"

"Okay.." Yoongi's voice comes out small, tightening his grip around Jimins neck, heart skipping a beat when he feels himself dangle while Jimin adjusts him. "Jimin-ah.."

"Almost there.. we're in the room, we just need to get to the bed.. I'm sorry.. here we go.. safe on the bed..I'll get you a pair of my pajamas. You're covered in sweat." Jimin slowly places yoongi on the bed. "Do you think you can drink a bit?"

"I think I'll throw up again..i still feel bad.." Yoongi curls up, pulling his knees to his chest. "I want heat.."

"Oh right, I'm sorry hyung.." Jimin gets a heating pad, putting it aside trying to gently uncurl Yoongi. I have to cool him down, but if hes in too much pain he won't be cooperative.. "Let's get you changed first.. at least your shirt okay?"

Yoongi doesn't fight against Jimin, but he doesn't help either, not making any movement. Jimin just barely gets him to sit up long enough to get his shirt off, getting the top on him, helping him back down to button the top two before Yoongi curls up again. "Cold.."

"Alright hyung.. here you are.." jimin gently places the heating pad against Yoongis side, cuddling up to his ailing hyung. "Is that any better?"

Yoongi nods, pressing against Jimin. "You're warm.." He murmurs.

"If you say so hyungie..rest well.. I'll be right here if you need anything.." jimin gently kisses Yoongi's temple, hearing his breathing slow as he starts to fall asleep.

Jimin waits until Yoongi grows heavy against him before removing the heat from Yoongi's side. "Now to take care of your fever.." he whispers, yawning. "Then I'll sleep too.."

[iamthecomet]

I woke up with a lot of pain this morning, so I was wondering if I could get some comfort fluff with Zephyr? He's having a bad day for the pain, and a ghoul of your choosing just helps him get more comfortable and does what they can to make him feel better?

I hope that you're having less pain today <3.

1k of soft ZephDew because I love them.

Zephyr wakes in pain. It's not abnormal. He wakes most days in pain. An ache in his lower back that forces him to walk hunched forward. Pain stabbing through his knee when he shifts to move. Something in this Lucifer-forsaken vessel always hurts. He's gotten used to it in some ways. Used to the dull ache in his joints that starts low and manageable and grows to a roar by the end of the day. It's been like this since he was summoned. Since Terzo fumbled one word during his summoning and it led to this--a vessel that doesn't want to support him. Most days it's manageable. Something he can tolerate as long as he doesn't push himself too far. Today? Today it's agony. He isn't sure what he did wrong. Maybe too much time spent in the greenhouse with Mountain yesterday--though he hadn't done much but sit on a hard wooden stool and smoke. Or maybe he slept wrong. Or maybe it's the humidity sinking into his joints and making them scream. It doesn't really matter why. All that matters is that it's bad. Worse than it's been in a long time. He feels the way he does in the depths of winter, bones frozen, fused together. He rolls onto his side with difficulty, and curls in on himself. It doesn't particularly help the ache, but it makes his mind feel better. Curled up like this he feels like maybe he can squeeze the pain out of his body. Like if he lays here long enough, forehead pressed to his knees, he will feel better. That's how Dew finds him an hour later. Zephyr'd missed breakfast and then hadn't shown up for his usual short walk through the gardens with Dew. Dew doesn't knock--never does. Zephyr doesn't lock his door and Dew has full privileges, and besides, he knows that if Zephyr didn't meet him, it's a bad day. They've only missed their morning walk a handful of times before. Most of them when Dew was in the middle of his transition from water and fire and couldn't leave his bed. Zephyr usually pushs through, says the walk helps wake up his stiff joints, gets them moving. Zephyr hasn't moved. Head tipped down against his knees, arms curled over his head, tail wrapped around his own body like he's trying to hold himself together. If he doesn't move, the pain levels out. But if he shifts, even breathes too deeply, his body screams. Dew closes the door behind him softly, he pads over to Zephyrs side, reaching out to brush some snow white hair off of his cheek and behind his feathered ear. Zephyr raises his silvery gaze to Dew. Eyes dull, lidded with exhaustion. "Hey Zeph," Dew's voice is soft, barely above a whisper. He drags his warm fingers over the sharp line of Zephyr's cheek bone, tracing over golden freckles. Calloused skin rough, but Zephyr leans into it anyway. It had taken longer than Zephyr will admit to get used to Dew being warm. To the way Dew's heat sinks into his body even at the barest touch. "What can I do?" Zephyr winces, shifting to uncurl a little. Dew isn't going to just leave him here in misery and it's better to let Dew in than tell him he's fine. If he shoos Dew away he'll just come back with Aether and Mountain. And Mountain will try to feed him that tea that tastes like wet grass, and Aether will pump him full of so much quintessence to numb the pain that he'll wake up with a hangover. Dew waits patiently for an answer, lips pressed into a thin line as he traces his fingers over Zephyr's jaw, touch still soft, like he's fragile, made of already cracked glass. "Wanna play heating pad?" Zephyr asks, trying to lift his voice toward teasing, toward levity, but it cracks as he does. Strained as talking puts pressure on something inside of him that feels like a knife in spine. Dew's smile is as weak as Zephyr's voice, but he nods sharply. Zephyr mourns the loss of Dew's fingers on his face when he shifts. pulling away to walk around the bed. Zephyr feels it dip, and then he feels Dew's warmth. It radiates, stroking along his body before Dew even fits himself against Zephyr's back.

Dew curls up against him, locks his knees behind Zephyrs, forcing his body to follow the lines of Zephyrs. He presses his face into the back of Zephyr's neck and kisses him there, soft, sweet, dry. Zephyr hums in relief as heat washes through him, digs through his muscles and into his bones where he needs it most. Dew presses his palm flat against Zephyr's sternum, holds him close. It takes a long time for the pain to dull, but Dew doesn't move. Breath even, huffing through the small curls at the base of Zephyr's skull. Pressing soft kisses along the knobs of his spine that Dew can reach. Zephyr sighs into it, lets Dew hold him. He closes his eyes, and drifts on Dew's warmth. Eventually, he uncurls a little at a time. Dew's body follows the movement, stays pressed tight to his, formed to him. "Thanks, Droplet." Zephyr mumbles, exhaustion catching up with him. He hasn't gotten out of bed all day but now he desperately needs a nap. "Just glad the fire's good for something." Dew mumbles. And there's something to unpack there. A thread Zephyr will pull on when he isn't so run down. But for now, he just reaches up and laces his fingers with Dew over his chest. He squeezes, Dew returns it. "Stay?" Zephyr asks. Dew nuzzles his head against him. His tail comes up to curl around Zephyr's thigh, more warmth. The spade of it pets softly over his knee. Dew nods, "As long as you need."

[andydrysdalerogers]

Cross-Checked ~ Chapter 1

Andy Barber x OFC Leighton "Leia" Andrews

Summary:

Andy Barber is having the best year of his life. His game is on point. It’s gets to play with his best friend and his fiancé just... dumped him?!. 

Reeling from a sudden change in status, Andy decides it’s time to just focus on hockey. Until his best friend's sister comes out with news that rock the entire organizations world., 

Andy has always carried a torch for the untouchable Leighton but in her hour of need, is now the time to shoot and score or risk getting cross - checked again? 

Warnings: Cheating (but not by the MCs); slow burn; friends to lovers eventually; SMUT!; pregnancy; jealousy; evil exes...

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 1: it's supposed to be my year - Andy 

Third Person POV 

The Red line is a good place to hide from the world. 

A dive bar that's only really known by locals and a perfect hideout for the local team, The Boston Bruins. This is where we can find the hero of our story. Or a broken heart reeling from the shock of a lifetime. The bartender puts the third glass of Glenlevet 12 in front of the broken man at the corner of his bar.  

Andy 

“You want something to eat Barber?” 

I shook my head. The idea of food just made me want to throw up. This must be the worst day of my life. Sitting at our local dive, all I wanted to do was to drink myself to sleep. Maybe then I'll wake up from this nightmare. Have you ever been stood up at the alter?  No? Lucky you. 

“Knew I’d find you here.” I looked over to my best friend and alternate captain Lukas Andrews. He signaled to Mike, the bartender, and pointed to my glass. “You ok?” 

“I'm great. Just perfect.” I pulled at the tie on the collar of my tux. “I mean I paid for an entire wedding and the down payment on a house, but my bride decided to fuck my team mate the night before our wedding and lucky me I overheard them arguing about it right before she was going walk down the aisle.” I slammed back my drink. “Oh, and she runs away with said teammate.” 

I signal for another. And dropped my head to the bar. “Andy maybe you should slow down?” Luke said. 

“Why? I don't want to feel Luke. I just want to numb the pain.” Can’t he see that I just want me heart to stop hurting.  I was betrayed by two people that I trusted tremendously and now have to deal with not just one heartbreak but two.  

“I know buddy but maybe you should sleep?”  

Luke’s a great best friend to have.  He always tries to take care of me and I’d do the same for him.  But right now, I don’t want to take care of myself. “No, we drink.” 

That's the last thing I remember. 

Please let me be dead.  

That could be the only explanation as to why I was in so much pain. The alternative is that its a massive hangover and that would suck worse. I cracked an eye and sunlight hit me like fucking a truck. Fuck, I’m alive and it was going to be a hell of a day. It took everything to get to the bathroom and throw up like I’m a goddamm teenager.  

I’m a 31-year-old professional hockey player. I don't get drunk anymore. 

At least I didn't before yesterday. And it hit me that the love of my life screwed one of my best friends and teammates the night before our wedding and I got listen to him beg her not to marry me. 

Fuck Fiona and fuck Craig Bailey. 

I wandered downstairs, the aroma of fresh coffee hitting me like water in the Sahara. This is why Luke is my best friend. Fully expecting to see him sitting at the island, I'm stunned when I see my other best friend and Luke's sister making breakfast. “Morning?” 

Leighton Andrews.  

If there was one girl I wish I could marry it would been her. I’ve known the Andrews siblings since Luke and I were in kindergarten. Hell, I've been around since Leia was just a sweet little baby. She was an annoying brat for most of my childhood. But then when we came home for Christmas our freshman year of college and every change. Leia was only 14 at the time but she grew up way more than that. She had always been short, taking after their mother but everything else had grown up. She had tits that were perfect, a banging ass that I wanted to feel in my hands. 

There was just one small problem. 

She's my best friend's sister. 

To call Luke overprotective would be the biggest understatement in the world. After their dad died in a freak accident, Luke took his job as “man of the house” very seriously. He made sure that his mom didn't feel lonely, and he made it his mission to protect his sister by any means necessary. 

As the dutiful best friend, I, of course, helped him in his mission to protect her. 

Did I have selfish reasons? 

Yes.  

Did I tell him that? 

I'm alive so what does that tell you. 

“Hey Andy, good morning!” Leia chirped.  She had always been a ball of sunshine and it was something that I loved about her. Except, wait, how did she get into my townhome? 

“I say this with love, Leia, but what are you doing here? And how did you get into my house?” 

She flashed me that goddam smile that makes me give her whatever hell she wants. “Mike called.” 

Sadly, that's enough of an explanation. 

“Where's lover boy? I thought you guys were attached at the hip?” I poured myself a cup of water, drained it with two ibuprofen and then moved on to coffee. 

“Bret is on a business trip right now. He'll be back on Friday.”   

Bret.  Blah, the man was a waste of space in mine and Luke’s opinion.  He’s a stockbroker for some Fortune 500 company. When Leia started dating him, he was the epitome of douche bag. For the last year, Leia had subtly changed.  She used to be a free spirit, dressed however she wanted.  But Bret wanted a sophisticated partner that was like the other wives of brokers in his company.  He would spend money to upgrade her wardrobe and then they bought a house together six months ago.  I hated that. Even when I was with Fiona, I knew Leia deserved better. But she’s happy, and that’s all I can ask for.  

“Was he even at my wedding? Or as I call it the implosion of my life?” 

Leia came over and wrapped her arm around me and put her head on my shoulder. “He was there. He told me to tell you how was and sorry that Fiona was a complete bitch.” 

“He did not say that.” 

“Ok, fine, it was me but that's because it’s the truth.” Leia smiled at me sadly. “I’m so sorry, Andy.” 

“Thanks, Leia.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I guess I'm just glad I found out before I married her.” 

“She's an idiot Andy. I mean who in their right mind ditch a man like you?” 

This really wasn't the time to get a semi. Her compliment is doing things to me.

“Please don't tell me she did it because I neglected her or drove her into another man's arms? I mean I know I’ve been busy but I was trying to secure our future, you know?” Fuck, did I screw this up? I was working to be named captain this upcoming season.  The Bruins made that announcement a couple of weeks ago.  It had been awesome at the time but was it tainted now? 

“I don’t know. She’s been with you for like three years. She knows what it's like to be a WAG. She’s a fucking idiot Andy.” She moved to rub my back. 

I looked around my townhouse. “I have to move out of this place because I have a new home. That she wanted. Fuck,” I dropped my head onto the kitchen counter with a thud. “Ow.”  

Leia chose at that moment to let out a series of adorable giggles, her second-choice weapon in her arsenal. “Feel better?” 

“No,” I mumble. 

She came over and kissed my forehead. “Everything is going to be ok. You are the captain this year. Your best friends are right beside you. And we'll always be by your side.” 

I looked up at her. “Promise?” I held out my pinkie, something the three of us have done since we were kids. She took it with her own. 

“Promise.” 

“Fuck, who turned on the brightness?” Luke wandered into the kitchen. He took a seat next to me and lowered his head into his arms. “I’m never drinking with you again Barber.” 

“I didn’t say you had to match me drink for drink Andrews.” I looked around, searching for his girlfriend. I vaguely remember her coming with him to the bar. “Where is Miranda?” 

“She’s sleeping.  I tried to wake her, but she said she’s not getting up unless I can promise pancakes and bacon in bed.”  Luke looked at his sister.  “I love you.”  

Leia rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, yeah.  I’m doing this because I need to make sure you guys were ok. I gotta get back home for a meeting.” 

I smiled at her. “You’re the best Leia.” 

“And don’t you forget it.” 

After the banging in my head subsided, I went to the new house. I needed to make this place my own. Fuck whatever Fiona wanted. I would make this the home of my dreams, not hers. As I walked up to the front, I saw someone sitting on the stoop. “The fuck are you doing here?” The nerve of this guy showing up to my house. 

Craig stood up. “I just want a minute to explain.” 

“Explain what? How you "accidentally" slept with my fiancé or how you were trying to convince her to leave me?” I raged. This fucker has balls, I'll give him that. 

“Andy, it’s not like that. I'm in love with her. I have been for a long time.”  

“You slept with her once and all of a sudden, you've been in love with her for forever? Bull shit man.” 

“It wasn't just once,” he said quietly.  

I stopped. “Wanna run that by me again?” I must have not heard him clearly 

“It wasn't just the once. We've been seeing each other for the last year.” 

We all heard that right? 

“You've got to be kidding me! You've been fucking my fiancé for the last year?” I don't even let him respond. I deck him across the chin and drop him to the floor. Lucky for him, Luke shows up just when I go to hit him again. 

“Andy! Stop! He's not worth it.” Luke grabs my arm and pulls me back. Another set of hands takes mine. I look back and see Leia and I calm a little under her touch. 

“I fucking hate you! You were one of my best friends and you did this to me. Fuck you! You're dead to me!” 

“We are on the same team Andy!” Craig argues. “I’m sorry but I love her, and we didn’t mean for this to happen.” 

“I don't give a shit. She was mine and you fucked me over. I'll work with you on the ice, but I never want to speak to you or look at you outside of the arena ever again! Go back to your bitch and tell her I'll send her shit to her mother's.” Luke pushes Craig away from me and down the drive. I turned away and Leigh wrapped her arms around me, and I buried my head in her neck, sobbing into her. “Why?” I asked her. 

“I don't know Andy but I'm right here.” She rubbed my back as Luke dealt with Craig. “Let it out, I've got you.” 

This was supposed to be my year. I had the captaincy, I had a championship caliber team and a fiancé that I thought loved me.  

This was supposed to be my year.  

Now I know what it's like to get screwed over with my pants on. 

Life is funny like that. 

NEXT

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[girlsgoneplague]

Cramps

Spock x reader

Warnings: period talk (not graphic) cursing, depression

Promt: pain/comfort, you have the day off however your period has kept you in bed all day so your boyfriend Spock comes to check on you

Part 1 of 2 or 3, I plan on in the second part it gets worse

Waking up that morning you knew something was wrong whenever you rolled over, the cool wetness of your ass made it obvious your pad just couldn't take it last night. After groaning into your pillow for a solid minute you decide to get up and get cleaned up. When you get in the bathroom its obvious the pad never stood a chance, so you take off all your clothes and put them in the laundry hamper

So much for having a relaxing off day...

Before taking a shower you also removed all of your bedding, as well the pillow case since it won't match your other bedsheets. The pale blue of your former bedsheets start to irritate you and instead of putting them in the hamper you decide to throw the fitted sheet away. A ringing on your PADD goes off so you make your way to your bedside table and pick it up to see Spock is calling.

"Hey babe, I was just about to hop into the shower" you keep the screen aimed at your face in case he's with someone else.

"Hello, I trust you slept well?"

You sigh, "not really, I ruined my light blue bedsheets and I didn't even fall asleep until pretty late last night"

He tilts his head slightly, "I see, well the duration of my shift will end in a few hours, I will come to check on you."

You smile as you nod, "I'd love that, bring me something to eat too will you?"

"I shall, please continue your morning, I will see you soon"

"See you soon Spock" you end the call and make your way to the shower. Your cramps are starting to act up and a nice hot shower will ~hopefully~ help it.

After 30 minutes you've given up on the prospect of easing your pain. They haven't gotten worse but since its been so long its started to irritate you.

I swear they've just been getting worse these past few months....maybe I need to see McCoy.

After thinking it over you decide its not serious enough for that, if it gets worse then you'll have a good enough excuse to waste an entire day in sick bay. The worst part about it so far was the damper it put on your mood. Its only been about an hour since you've woken up but crawling back into bed is the only appealing thing to you right now. You look at the clock and see it's only 11:03.

You haven't changed your bedsheets yet but decide to lay on it bare anyway, the only thing touching your skin is the robe you were gifted last Christmas. It's dark blue and goes all the way down to your shins so it acts like your blanket for now.

After a few minutes you decide to try and watch something before you get too caught up in your own head. After picking an old cartoon movie you've never seen called Treasure Planet, you decide during the opening scenes you'll actually eat something.

I'm sure spock won't be back for another couple hours I think he mentioned around 4pm the last time we talked-

Suddenly your PADD starts to light up again, wondering if it was the man himself you leaned over to find it was actually Uhura.

"Hey whats up?" You ask somewhat confused

"You forgot about lunch didnt you?" She said with a small smirk

"Ohhhhhh shit im so sorry! I forgot this was the only day this week we both had free, my period came yesterday and its been kicking my ass"

She raises her eyebrows, "Oh my, that sounds like you've been busy dealing with the worst time of the month I understand. Its kind of weird that you're having issues though, you don't usually have cramps that bad right?"

"Right!! I have no idea why they're so bad this time around, I haven't even gotten around to changing my bedsheets-of which I RUINED last night" you shake your head and move the screen to show you laying down on your bare bed

"Yikes, well to be honest I actually called because I'm already in the mess hall but Sulu wants to join me for lunch, would you be offended if I visited you tomorrow after my shift?"

"Not at all, im not really in the mood to socialize....or get dressed haha. I only really want to see Spock so we can cuddle"

She rolls her eyes, "yeah yeah I'm sure your hot boyfriend will help melt the pain away. But if you need anything at all before he shows up then call me"

"Sure thing, you have fun with Sulu and tell him I said hi" I waved bye as she said she would and then hung up.

I put the device back down and roll over on my back, the cramps are getting bad enough I decide to take some Tylenol and grab my medicine bag to fill up with hot water.

I'm so glad I bought this damn thing, take that you stupid uterus

After gettin settled on the bed you realize you didnt actually grab something to eat, but maybe that's a good thing because your stomach also starts to act up.

It be your own body, your own treacherous body

At least the movie still has an hour left before you paused it, so you hit resume and make a wall of pillows on your bed to protect your back from the hard headboard.

After about 30 minutes you decide to send Spock a message asking how long he will be on duty. After a few minutes he responds

Unfortunately I have to stay slightly longer than planned, so far we belive the problem will be taken care of by 5 at the latest. My apologies

You frown but don't want to make a big deal about it, especially since its not his fault so you respond quickly

Thats fine! Just don't forget to bring me some dinner, I want pizza, you know how I like it. I hope the ship isn't giving you too many issues i know we had a rough day yesterday

Rough is an understatement, however it comes with the job and you both understand most things are out of your control when it comes to repairs and maintenance.

Indeed. I shall update you at 4 about my arrival.

You smile at the screen and think about how happy you'll be when he gets here

In the meantime I can ask Uhura for some chicken noodle soup. Thank you:)

You look up and realize you didn't pause the movie but luckily there's not been anything super crazy that happened. Its actually grabbed your attention quite well. However you do pause it to message Uhura because you're not sure if you can call her.

You free? I've got a craving for some chicken noodles or maybe even some chicken and dumplings, either way something warm with chicken

As you wait for a reply you get up to change the water in your medicine bag again, after you get up however you realize you have to use the bathroom.....immediately.

When you get in there you cuss loudly

How the fuck did my pad manage to slip off, I swear today is not my day

After you finish up, you change your underwear again and rub your sore breasts.

This is possibly the worst off day I've ever had, including when we were all turned into those rocks or cubes or whatever they were*

Looking at the clock you quickly realize its only a little after 12. And since Uhura hasn't responded its starting to look a lot like you'll be alone for quite some time.

The movie ended after some time, it was really good but you frequently clenched your whole body due to the waves of cramps. And thankfully Uhura had let you know she would bring you food around 1. So you searched around for another movie to keep your mind off of things and settled on Asteroid City. After a few minutes you hear a knock so you get pause it to open the door.

After it slides open you smile at the sight of your friend with some much needed soup, "so whatd you bring me?"

She hands you the tray and follows you into the room, "just some chicken and dumplings, I remember last time you had noodles so I thought I'd take the liberty of switching things up for you"

"I love it when you make our relationship spicy" you chuckle and sit down on your bed gesturing her to join you.

She looks at your screen, "oh you'll like this one, but after this you should watch that horror movie that came out in the same year"

In between spoonfuls you ask her to send you the title in case you forget.

You and her chat for some time until she gets up to stretch, "well I think I'll leave you to it, I have the holo deck reserved for 3 and I'd hate to be late. See you later"

"Sure thing, see you!" You wave to her as she leaves and start your movie again.

2 hours later you decided this Wes Anderson was definitely worth checking out. Then you look at your PADD to see the title Uhura sent you and also notice Spock has sent you a message as well

Excellent news, I shall be done in less than an hour. Is there anything else you need me to bring?

Yes please! I need new bedsheets I can't find any clean ones. I like yours so maybe you could bring those?

Clicking on Talk To Me, you lean back again and wait for him to respond.

Roughly 20 minutes later you hear a knock on your door, so you pause the movie and practically run to see if its Spock

Once the door slides open you grin at the sight of him with a pair of sheets underneath a tray with an entire pizza.

"I missed you so much, here let me take the tray"

He lets you grab the tray while he starts to unfold the sheets, "I have missed you as well T'hy'la, I trust you were not disappointed with my tardiness"

You set the food down at the small table you usually eat dinner at, that is when you're not suffering, and turn to face him. "Its not your fault T'hy'la, besides im sure you can make it up to me"

The ghost of a smile is on his face as he walks over to you to hold your hand and lean his forhead against yours, "I will try"

You give him a kiss and tell him to start eating so you can finish your movie.

As you eat your pizza, and he eats his soup you discuss his day as well as how awful you've been feeling, "I mean I seriously have no idea why its been so bad this time around" you notice a frown on his face and raise an eyebrow

"If you are truly having issues why did you not see McCoy?" Concern all over his face makes you feel like you've said the wrong thing.

"Its just that I didn't think it mattered that much" you look away from him and at the floor, "I just didn't want to spend the day in sick bay or worse taking some disgusting medicine that makes me lose my appetite"

He considers this for a moment and reaches across the table to hold his two fingers out to you for a Vulcan kiss. "While I do not understand the human response of hating the doctors i understand you would have gone if you felt that the pain was too much, but please mention it the next time you have a check up"

You smile softly and nod your head, "deal, so long as you spend the night with me?"

His eyes light up and the corners of his mouth slightly turn upwards, "I believe those terms are acceptable"

You both finish up your meal and he excuses himself to grab a change of clothes while you head to the bathroom to change your pad yet again.

One of these days maybe he'll just keep a change of clothes here

You ponder to yourself about the future for a moment until you start to have an awful pain shoot through your abdomen.

You leave the bathroom and immediately lay down to curl yourself into a ball, its not clear how long you stay in that position but when Spock returns he knocks and let's himself in after you tell him its fine. He immediately walks over to your bed at the sight of you, "is the pain becoming too much?"

You nod slightly and roll over to face him, "is it alright if we just lay here together for awhile"

"Of course, just allow me to change into my robes"

You feebly nod and go to turn the movie back on, you might as well finish it before bed considering its not even 6 yet. After he gets changed he looks at the screen, then at you, and raises an eyebrow.

"A recommendation from Uhura" you respond to his wordless question

"I see, well you'll forgive me if I do not watch it with you"

"All I need is you, I know you don't like this sort of thing but I'm glad you indulge my human tendancies"

"There are many qualities of yours i admire, and as you are well aware I do not require silence in order to think about how to improve my work efficiency"

You shake your head slightly as he climbs into bed, "well as long as you're holding me i couldn't care less what you're thinking about i just enjoy your company"

A light green blush comes across his features, "I too enjoy being with you" he grabs your face and kisses you for a few moments until you break the kiss to groan about your lower abdomen. He places his hand on your forehead and looks in your eyes to silently ask permission to ease your pain. You nod and his presence fills your brain, the pain starts to leave your mind as you finally relax for the first time that day.

"I don't know what I would do without you" you tell him as he lowers his hand and once again wraps his arms around you.

"I am sure you would-"

"That was rhetorical, and I don't think I could love anyone like how I love you" the light green blush returns to his face and he puts his forehead to yours again.

"I love you as well" he tells the computer to turn the lights off and you fall asleep despite the horror movie still on in the background. He watches you for a few moments to be sure you've fallen asleep and then turns off the movie and allows himself to drift off alongside you.

End of part one

Authors Notes, in the original series theres an episode where only 5 of the essential crew weren't turned into these blocks so if you're curious this is what I was referencing in the paragraph that talks about being turned into rocks lol

[bughideout]

Academic weapon day 2 ꩜⋆.°⭑

Didn't get to do much today because my joints absolutely hated me today and decided to make my life a living hell, but oh well

sleep:

I slept a good 9 hours! This time as I am writing it is not midnight, it is 21:40. So I am going to try to read to get to bed earlier. not much else to say, I woke up a couple of times during the night but fell asleep very quickly.

routine:

I did my morning stretches when I woke up and had coffee, caffe au laut i think its called its this nescafe coffee pod that I like. it's not bitter but still has a lot of caffiene which I need in the morning. I ate bread with butter, cheese and ham again.

body:

Taken my medication, wore my joint supports through the majority of the day to relieve some pain and to keep the pain from getting worse. Though what sucks about that is that its summer, its warm, wearing my joint supports makes me warmer which makes me sweat. And im unfortunate enough to have a water allergy so ive been itchy all day. Did my stretches, havent gotten to move as much as i would like.

reading:

I started a new book today since i finished the plague yesterday. I started on "the unbearable lightness of being" and so far I think it's okay, im only 15 pages in so no strong feelings. I haven't gotten to read as much as I would like today but I am going to read after ive finished writing this thing.

reflection:

Not many reflections today, i spent two whole journal pages writing about the brothers karamazov, but thats as far as that went.