#i know there are more urgent things to donate to but it would be nice to at least spread the word to those who have more to spare

[st5lker]

hi everyone. a dear friend of mine lost their nephew recently and the family has been going through a lot and has been really devastated by the loss. it would mean a lot to me if yall could share this link around and donate if youre able to help cover their funeral expense. 💗

[scarletwinterxx]

bigger than the whole sky - haechan imagine

helloooo, i think a few months ago i wrote a haechan dad scenario. but after watching The Lost Boys, it made more emotional🥺 our hyuck would surely be the best dad in the future💛

here's a sequel to that scenario😊

pt. 1 - Lee and Lily

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

There are many things you admire about your husband, from his cheekiness to his voice to his assuring words. But one thing you love the most about him now, something you only found out after your daughter was born, is how great of a father he is.

Haechan is very busy with work but he is a family man above all. You and Nari comes first. Which is why he decided to take the duty of driving and picking Nari up from school.

"You sure you want to do it?" you ask him the first day he did it

"Yea, gives us more daddy-daughter time. Take the morning for yourself" he tells you, kissing you on the forehead

"You know she loves you right? I know you, the wheel are turning in there" you tell him, weaving your fingers around his neck and playing with the ends of his hair

The moment Haechan found out you were pregnant, he vowed to always be there for your child. He always dreamt of being a father, a father who will always be there for their kid. And he has, but there are still times he feels like he missed too much because he's too busy with his career.

"Times flies by so fast, she used to fit right in my arm. Now she's running around, and she talks more than me. Would you believe that"

You chuckle at his words. She does have the talent to talk your ear off, she's now at that age where everything ends with a "why?" question.

"Daddy, why is the sky blue?" "Mommy, why do the fishy float?" "Daddy, why is this sweet and that one yucky?" referring to salt and sugar

Just some of the daily questions of Lee Nari.

But really that girl can ask you why water is wet every breakfast and you still wouldn't have it any other way.

And so the tradition started. Haechan is now on school duty while you stay at home.

"She does this cute thing when I drop her off, she goes bye bye daddy I love you" he tells you one day.

"How many times have you cried in the car after she said that?" you tease him

"Like 2 maybe 3, the first time was the worst. After she said it, she just walked away and left me"

"Stop being dramatic, she was just going to pre-school" you laugh

"The other day she asked me why was the sun chasing us when we were driving to school"

"What did you say?"

"Can't remember, something along the lines of 'the sun likes nice people'. I'm running out of answers" he tells you dramatically, making you chuckle once again.

It's been months since that routine started. the two Lee's enjoying the quick drive from and to school. Haechan would play his favorite songs while Nari sings along, his heart swelling with pride as he listens to his daughters singing.

One particular morning, it unexpectedly got hectic. You left earlier than the two due to do some errand and get a quick checkup. While on their way to school, Haechan got an urgent call from work.

"I just got here at Nari's school, why?" he waited until he was infront of the school and the car on stop before answering the call. He spots the teacher who welcomes the student every morning and fetch them outside, waving over to them and opening the backseat door.

Haechan was still busy on the phone while Nari waits, her teacher ushers her inside as Haechan smiles and wave as his daughter walks away.

Just as he was about to pull up on the driveway to get his stuff ready for work, he received another call this time from you.

"Yes?" he answered

"Did you drive Nari today?"

Confused, he answered your question "Yes, I just dropped her off. Why did something happen at school?". He didn't even wait for your answer, already starting the engine once again to drive back to her school

"Her teacher just called me, she was bawling her eyes out apparently. Had a mini melt down when you didn't say goodbye to her"

Just then Haechan remembered their little tradition. Feeling his blood run cold, he didn't say i love you to Nari and now she's sad.

"Oh my Nari, I'm driving back there"

"No need, I'm like 5 minutes away from the school. I'll handle it. You have a meeting today too" you tell him

"But-" he tries to protest

"It'll be fine, we'll see you later okay"

How can he focus on work when all he can think about is how he made his little girl upset. When you got home from Nari's school, it wasn't a surprise to see your husband sitting on the living room couch. Nothing but silence inside the house.

"Hey, she's fine now" you say, catching his attention

"I really didn't mean to forget, I was on the phone. I waved goodbye to her, I guess it flew my mind" he tells you, you can tell he's just as upset as Nari was.

You shot him a small smile before walking towards him. Immediately he opens his arms, hugging you around the waist while you pat his head lovingly.

"If it makes you feel any better, I forgot her favorite blanket the other day and she said she felt upset with me" you hear him chuckle from below you

"But then she hugged me and said it was okay. Our little girl doesn't have a single bone of hate in her body so don't worry too much okay? You're her favorite person ever" you added

"What if all she'll ever remember is me forgetting to say I love you to her?" he asks, looking up at you.

Sighing, you pull away to sit beside him but Haechan pulls you over to make you sit on his lap. Like he just needed your comfort right now.

"What she'll remember is how good of a father you are, how you practically hung the stars in the sky. You've always been the best dad, don't go doubting it now" you tell him, cradling his face in your hands.

Your words are always enough to wash away any doubt he has. It's a magic you posses. With that, he feels a lot better.

"She'll be home in a few hours, why don't we go and pick her up? Meanwhile, go do some work" you tell him, giving him a quick kiss before standing up.

A few hours later, the two of you drove to pick up Nari. You go to the front office to get her while Haechan waits outside, holding a bouquet of flowers for his little girl.

You and Nari walk outside hand in hand. Haechan thought she was going to be mad at him but the moment Nari sees her dad, she made a dash towards him. Immediately Haechan kneels down to catch her in a tight hug. Picking her up and hugging her close to him.

"Hi baby, dad's so so so sorry about this morning. Sorry I forgot to say I love you" he mumbles, the little Lee just hugs him for a while. You got to where the two were standing, taking the flowers from Haechan so he could carry Nari more comfortably.

Nari pulls back to look at her dad, the two of you waiting for what she has to say

"I got sad because I didn't get to say I love you to dad" she pouts

"You got sad because you didn't say I love you to me?" Haechan asks back, Nari nodding at her father's question

"Oh lovebug, you don't have to be sad about dad. I know you love me very very much" he tells her

"But I always say it to you"

You smile at your husband and your little girl. Loving hearing their argument of who loves more.

"Even when you don't tell daddy, I already know. But okay, I promise to not leave you until you say it to me. How does that sound?"

"Okay, I love you daddy" she says then hugs Haechan again.

"I love you, more than anything in this world, my Nari" he looks over at you, mouthing the same words to you.

You sent him a smile. Guiding the two over to the car,

"Okay now that's done, what do you want for dinner?" you ask the two

"Kimchi fried rice!" you hear the tiny voice say from the backseat.

"You heard the girl" you chuckle

"I'll cook you the best kimchi fried rice, it will be the best ever" Haechan says, starting the car and driving away. The conversation continues, with Nari's endless stories and wonders while the two of you answer.

He looks over at you, taking your hand and giving it a quick kiss. Just then you hear Nari's voice again,

"Mom, is the moon sleeping during the day?"

[paperweight91]

Ok, Chelsea, what about this?

You just got back from staying with family over the holidays. When you go to make yourself some dinner you realize your cupboards are bare. So you rush out for an emergency grocery run. But oh no! When you get to the register, you realize you forgot your wallet. Luckily, there's a good samaritan in line behind you who offers to pay for your food.

Who is it?

Are they feeling generous or do they make you pay them back somehow??

Breakdown, Aisle 3

W/C:1012

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

A/N: Okay so I had two immediate thoughts pop into my head for this, and in an amazing show of restraint I only did one of them. (Yes I’m patting myself on the back) but I have to say this is such a fun prompt that I feel like it could have gone soooo many different ways. I hope you like it lovely ☺️ comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Your chest heaved on an exhale as you finally got on the highway. Christmas was always your favourite time of year, but your family was stressful to put it nicely. Knowing that you were just an hour away from home was enough to have you feeling so, so relaxed. You cranked up the radio to keep you awake on the drive and coasted home.

You came into your apartment feeling lighter, but also starving. That ravenous hunger that would only ever hit when you had pushed yourself for far too long without eating. Throwing your purse on the island, where it skidded across and fell off the other side making you huff. That was a later you problem, food first. You turned on a house flipping show for some background noise and started to look through your cabinets. Nothing. You checked your fridge. Not even milk.

Smacking your forehead you remembered why, donating a bunch of non-perishables for the holidays and throwing out your entire fridge before going to your parents maybe wasn’t the best idea you had. You groaned and stomped your foot, why you?

Collecting your purse off the floor you raced back down to the parking garage. You would pick up enough for dinner and something for breakfast before doing full groceries tomorrow. You went to the closest supermarket, a little on the higher end, but it would be fine for one night.

You made a beeline for the frozen food section, letting out a sad noise when nothing appealed to you. Maybe it was a snacks for dinner kind of night. A new plan in mind you grabbed all of your favourite snacks, and a few treats. You also grabbed a nice fresh loaf of French bread something you would rarely get just for yourself. Happy with your haul, you made your way to the barren checkout line.

Unloading your cart, you heard a huff behind you. Glancing up to see a striking man, with only one item. He was clean shaven with bright blue eyes, his hair swept back just so. He was glaring at the conveyer belt, a hand on his hip. You sighed, your hunger could wait for this impatient man, “do you want to go first?” As the question left your lips you heard the beep of your first item being scanned.

He rolled his eyes, and waved his hand dismissively. “Seems like it’s not an option now.”

Feeling heat in your face, you turned back to unloading as quickly as you could. Of course you would piss off the only stranger you run into in the supermarket. You rushed to bag your items, thankful you at least remembered your bags.

“That’ll be $85.50” the cashier looked so bored, you almost forgot they were there.

You pulled your purse up, rummaging through. Your movements got more urgent as your fingers kept missing the familiar square of your wallet. “No. No, no, no!”

The man behind you huffed again. “Really?”

You turned to him, panic written clearly across your face, causing his expression to morph from irritation to concern. Tears beaded in your eyes as you continued what you knew now was a wasteful search. “My, my wallet. It’s not…” you covered your face with your hands. You were so hungry. The stupid thing must be laying on your floor somewhere.

The stranger sighed this time, passing his lone box of cookies to the cashier, “Add this to the bill.” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and quickly paid for the entire haul.

“Put the cart away.” His tone was soft, but it was clearly an order as he picked up all of your bags, tossing his cookies on top of on haphazardly. You stood in shock for a moment before he rolled his eyes at you and pointed at the cart. You jumped and quickly grabbed the cart, wheeling it back to the front of the store and putting it back in neatly. You heard a snort behind you.

Turning to glare at the haughty stranger, you found yourself softening as he gripped your grocery bags. You nodded and lead him out of the store towards your car. You popped the trunk, and he placed your bags carefully in the back. “Thank you,” you murmured. “I’m sorry about all that, I can’t believe I left my wallet at home.”

He closed your trunk, and leaned with one hand on the vehicle. He took in your full appearance. Starting from the old running shoes you had thrown on before leaving the house, coming all the way up to your hair, which you had thrown into a quick bun. “It’s nothing.” He said quietly. His petulant attitude seemed to have been left in the store.

“It’s not!” You’re quick to reply, “I just got back from spending the most exhausting visit with my family. And realized I was the idiot who decided to clean out my fridge before leaving. And then you swoop in to save me!”

The man still leaning against your, now has a road grin spreading across his face. “Ransom.” He says only that one word and you realize it’s his name. You give him yours and hold out your hand.

He takes your hand in a firm grasp. Not shaking, just holding. Your lashes flutter as you look up at him. “Would you maybe want to join me for a late night snack?” You’ve never done this before, what were you doing?

Ransom smirks and chortles slightly at your horror at your own words. “Well it’s the least you could do, since I did in fact buy it all.” He winked at you and you felt butterflies take off in your stomach. “Besides, I now need to know why your family is so exhausting. Because mine will make your head spin.” You laughed and reached back into your purse taking out your phone. The two of you exchanged numbers, and you texted him your address.

Maybe forgetting your wallet at home wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[theskeletonprior]

Emergency Commissions!

Greetings and salutations! I'm opening up some emergency commissions because times are hard and money is tight. I'm sorry to do it, when I'm not the only one in need, but I've lately been subject to some intense Paypal-related fuckery, which here means I need to work, and urgently. If you'd just like to help, my ko-fi is right here, but if you'd like some reciprocation, well... Enter Tav Tales.

Do you have Baldur's Gate 3 brainrot? Do you love your OC so much and wonder why the fanfic isn't writing itself? Do you like to support queer writers trying to make ends meet (that's me!)? I got you, buddy.

My commissions are open, so come tell me about me your Tav! (And their love-interest/favored companion, et cetera. Bring me your unromanceables!) I especially like to write rare pairs, hurt/comfort, and polyamory. If you'd rather the tale be companions only, I'm also happy to do that. While I don't mind writing intimate scenes, I don't accept graphic NSFW requests, non-con, or underage. When in doubt, just check in with me before you donate! Pricing starts at $15 CAD for a tale of 1k words.

Price List (CAD)

1000 words for $15 1500 words for $25 2000 words for $35

If you’re looking for a longer work, feel free shoot me an email at theskeletonprior@gmail.com and we’ll chat. Words are what I do.

Work Samples

You can read all my Tav Tales to date here on AO3, but here are some of the highlights.

Pheasant Raid (1.5k Tav/Karlach)

“Hey, soldier, got a letter.” Karlach tosses it on the bed, reaching out to grab a hold of Niri’s toes, give ‘em a good wiggle. “Look alive, we’re a going concern!” Niri sits up sleepily; and no surprises there, they’ve been running like it’s the Hells for weeks with no sign of slowing down. “What’s the concern?” She rubs at her eyes, pretty as emeralds, and stifles a yawn. She’s the sweetest thing that Karlach has ever seen. “No, no, we’re a going concern. Means people want to talk to us now. Check it out. We’ve got ourselves a formal invitation.” Karlach pulls off her boots, clambering up into bed beside Niri and hoping to fuck that Niri’s not about to tell her that it’s a follow-up letter from Gortash. She can’t help the sigh of relief that leaves her when it turns out to be some noblewoman in the know who just wants them to come by to a little get-together because she’s heard all about the raid on Moonrise Towers. She looks at Niri sidelong, and as she so often is, finds herself surprised that her partner can get any sweeter than she already is. Gods, she’s pretty. Prettier when she looks so excited.

To Live in Infamy (2k Durgetash)

The morning, Enver is lucky enough to have pants on. The Slayer snaps his chains as it comes screaming into the daylight, barrelling out of the bed. The force of Infamy’s awakening sends Enver rolling onto the floor, narrowly missing being crushed by the bedframe. He’s tangled in their sheets, and already lamenting that they’ll need to be replaced. This silk had come all the way from Waterdeep. That’s his first thought, even with his heart pounding in his ears. He struggles to free himself, but the Slayer isn’t coming for him. There’s the acrid smell of half-cast sorcery, and then the screaming starts. When something warm and wet splashes onto him, soaking through the sheets, Enver hopes it’s blood. The crunching of bones and the smell of bright copper gives him a little hope that it’s not something worse. It wouldn’t be the first time a would be assassin emptied their stomach or their bowels in terror before the Slayer. Enver unrolls himself at last, leaning back on his elbows to enjoy the show, even as the blood—and thank goodness it is blood—soaks through his nice sheets. The mess quite nearly defies description.

In the Spider's Parlor (3.5k Tav/Kar'niss)

She peers over her shoulder at him and then rolls her head, exposing more of her neck. Suddenly his need, that wretched appetite, is not as hideous as it has been, he feels no disgust for what he wants, for the curse that makes him want it. There’s only this moment. He nips lightly, slipping his arms around her, embracing the warmth. He reaches out with his forelegs, feeling her, holding her securely as he had done that first time. He’s heard the sound she makes when letting blood, and now he knows it for what it is. Pleasure. His purr rumbles low in his chest, but he never bites, lapping softly at the thin rivulet of blood that wells from where he’s nipped her, one delectable drop at a time. Solinore reaches up, one hand tangling in his hair, relaxing in his grip. “What you ask of me, is yours,” Kar’niss says, applying pressure to the nick he’d made to stop what little bleeding he’d caused. “You sure?” she asks, playfully. “I could ask for another ride on your back. Or...” He knows what that smirk implies. “What you ask of me,” he says again, “is yours.”

No Matter What (5k Tav/Karlach)

“I just... I wanted to make sure you’re feeling right about all this,” Karlach says. “About going back. It’s easy for me to be excited, but the way I move through the world’s same as ever, you know? Sometimes someone’s gonna be a prick about the ol’ horns.” She knocks on her good one. Depending on where you go, even that’s an understatement. “But it’ll be hard for us to travel in the open. The world won’t be so accepting, even if we don’t have to kill a dozen orthons every other tenday.” We cannot stay here, Sil says. I am not afraid of the world. We will be together. But... I am changed. I cannot be who I was before we fought the Netherbrain. I wonder if it is possible to grieve for such a thing . If you feel such grief, or our friends. Sil’s posture curls somewhat inward, and she lowers her head. Karlach takes her by both hands. “I miss that pretty face, sometimes,” she admits. “But you know what I think, soldier? I think the soul’s not the only place where all your feelings live. I believe it when you say you love me, and not just ‘cause that’s what I want. I think our friends will see what I see. And I’m not above fisticuffs in your honor.” Karlach watches for that telltale curl of the tentacles, and smiles when she sees it. “If you feel like you need a soul to run a little hotter for you, you can hold onto mine. Don’t you ever worry. C’mere.” Karlach gathers Sil up into her arms and holds her tight. “You ‘n’ me, no matter what, okay?”

[herwrittenuniverse]

Happy 1 Year AO3 Anniversary to me!

Yes, I'm that weirdo that remembers the one year anniversary of joining AO3. 23, however, is my favorite number, and it was also the beginning of the school year - I think that's why it's so distinct!

Last year, I was looking to do more things that I love, so I said "fuck it" and decided to post a chapter to a fic I hadn't updated in years and years on a different fanfiction website. A longtime reader/ fanfic author @butterflydreaming-writes-fic contacted me and basically said, "Girl, you gotta get on AO3. It's where it's at!" And one year later, here we are!

Here are some totals for you...

Of course, I know some other authors have higher stats then me, and that's okay. I'm proud that in just a year, I've accumulated over 1000 kudos, over 200 bookmarks, and over 21,000 hits. It's very gratifying.

I have 23 stories in total, but not all of them of new. Some are old ones that I reposted from a different website. Out of those 23, 9 are Cardcaptor Sakura, 2 are Final Fantasy VII, and a whopping 12 are of The Dragon Prince (with more to come on the way! I'm in the groove now.)

My most popular story based on hits is Lunation, my interpretation of the reconciliation between Rayla and Callum. I worked the hardest on this fic and am happy to see it still remains at my most popular piece. (Although, some of the shorter, sillier ones from S5 are quickly approaching its numbers, and I admit I will be kind of sad if it's no longer at the top! 😂) On the other end, my least popular is Red Lite, Green Lite, which is a silly little fic about Vincent Valentine going about Midgar trying to get a cigarette. It's quite funny.

The first not-reposted original story was Promises, Promises - a take on Callum's fatal promise to Rayla. ("You have to kill me.") I've never written such an action-packed piece and I am pretty proud of it. Even when rereading it, I still feel the urgent tone that carries itself throughout the story.

My most underrated fic is definitely To Those Who Crossed Over, a weirdly experimental story about how Touya from CCS - a naturally gifted clairvoyant - comes face-to-face with another medium, causing some interesting in-depth insight about Yue. While it's not the norm, it definitely is an interesting read.

In the next year, I would love to post some other fandoms (like RWBY, for example) and perhaps continue/expand on the CCS fic To Love Another. It's a story about Touya coming to terms with who Yukito/Yue are as a person. It is definitely the most quietly popular fic, with no comments but 96 kudos and 18 bookmarks.

Also, I want to simply continue to write. I put a lot of pressure on myself when it comes to fanfiction. Character and canon accuracy are important to me, but I am slowly realizing that fanfiction can be whatever you want it to be. And that's the beauty of it.

Remember, fanfiction writers do it for nothing except the love of our fandom. We take time out of our days to pour our hearts into stories for you to read. I'm so grateful to AO3, as the website allows us a safe space to do that. (I always donate when the time comes, and if you read or write on AO3, you should too!)

In the past year, I rebranded and created my online personal as HerWrittenUniverse because I felt like I was entering another era of fandom. In addition, fanfiction has personally opened up so many door for me. It's giving me a healthy way to express my love for a fandom, challenged me to increase my writing skills, and opened up doors to friendships that I never though possible. So thank you to Cris for kicking my butt and getting me on AO3, thank you to my fellow fandom friends for supporting me (and everyone else!), and thank you to the readers. Fanfiction writers create for themselves - but the support is always nice, too!

Cheers to another year on AO3!

[no-passaran]

you know i remember how annoyed i would feel seeing posts like 'help a non-binary trans* bean afford a nintendoDS!' or something, like you're not really asking for money to help with groceries or rent. but now i just think, at least those people were honest; unlike people who have the nerve to exploit an on-going genocide

I don't really mind those posts because sometimes people would really like to have some nice thing and that's okay. I completely understand your point of view and I wouldn't donate to a random person on the internet asking for money for a Nintendo DS either when there are organizations and people who need more urgent things, but I would do it for an IRL friend, so I think that those fundraisers for entertainment things can be more aimed at people they've maybe met through Tumblr or if they're artists or make GIFs or something maybe the people who appreciate their posts would like to contribute as a gift. I don't think there's anything wrong with that, as long as the post is honest on what the money will be for and the people donating are aware of it.

[mariluvvs]

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅── my introduction page :

★ my name is mari ★ i'm a minor, i use she/her ★ i post bout jshk most of the time but i do like the heathers (prefer the movie but the musical slaps too), the hunger games universe and the folk of the air series, stranger things (fuck noah schnapp), and atla (maiko shipper alert) ★ i usually listen to anything that i think sounds nice but i mainly listen to rihanna, taylor swift, britney spears, beabadoobe, laufey ★ i stan twice & ive (bias momo and rei) ★ i love winona ryder mention her name in a sentence and u have caught my attention ★ my ao3 ! ★ my byler fic recommendations ★ i love to talk to ppl and make friends so feel free if u wanna use my ask box or message me bc i do not mind <;3 ★ ps. if we r mutuals i might randomly leave in the middle of a convo bc somebody might be calling me or my device might die

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──

why am i doing all this?

well because, it's my passion. there's just something so special about posting about things i love and what i'm currently obsessed with, no matter how many likes i get. i also love eating churros, hanging out with my friends, listening to music, all that kind of stuff !! and sometimes while i'm in the midst of doing what i love, i get hurt sometimes. so i go to the doctor or if it's serious, i go to the hospital.

people in gaza who are my age, however, cannot do the same. they cannot follow their passions as they please. they cannot go to a hospital. since israeli forces have bombed their last hospital.

and not even just civilians who are my age. babies who are literally below 1 years old have been killed and are still getting killed, along with their mothers, fathers, siblings, entire bloodlines and loved ones. just sit there and imagine how losing one person you love would be. people in palestine lose people they love on a daily basis.

it's not antisemitic if you support gaza. many jews around the world support palestine. you don't have to be muslim, you don't have to be arab, hell you don't even need to be asian, you just need to be human and have some empathy.

please help support gaza by donating:

doing daily clicks for free:

and knowing what to boycott:

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──

tagging system :

★ #mari tries to stfu : personal/other posts

★ #maris byler : byler posts

★ #maris st : stranger things posts

★ #maris jshk: jshk posts

★ #maris thg : the hunger games posts

★ #maris danganronpa: dr posts

p.s. i’m still updating these and it’ll only be for more recent posts

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──

[bitchy-peachy]

Reason why I don't answer money asks:

I learned over time that a lot of these are bots and not verified

Not saying all asks are scams though but there's messed up people out there riding on the backs of real people to get easy money of a real tragedy. At this point I think there's more active scammers than people asking for help.

An acquaintance of mine told me of the internet connection issues over there so she was confused at the perpetual online spam like this. She's lucky to even get a text msg where she is so she voiced surprise at all this activity.

Okay I'm rambling, but what I'm saying is that when her and her family do have connectivity and are safe they do everything they can during that time frame rather than being active all the time. Don't know if it's like that for everyone over there but that's what she says about communications in her area. It can be even dangerous to look for a good signal.

I stick to certain blogs and speak to certain people personally about vetted fundraisers (and dont answer money asks) for very good reasons.

Yes, I might come off as twatty as hell but I want the help to get to those who need it. I don't like pressure, pushiness etc cos it just looks rude and selfish as hell.

I've talked and helped people with genuine need and I can feel it. The ones trying to cut in line, ignoring my boundaries don't give me the same vibe as the suffering people I've come to associate with in these past months.

The spamming and hounding people online in large groups via asks is counterproductive and it actually angers me because I know of the very urgent need of funds for real people. I've been getting around 9 asks per day. Some repetitive, at all hours of day and night. I estimate that the grand ask total I've gotten is 53 asks in a period of 4 to 5 days.

I'm so sorry for snapping at anyone innocent but just let me do things my way since it gets overwhelming. I figured out the best way was only openly supporting thoroughly vetted fundraisers verified by blogs that my acquaintance told me helped her. So far those accounts seem legit and show the whole vetting process and also exposes the real scammers.

Both my husband and I donate and spread news. (He's on Insta while I'm here)

Unfortunately we had to get refunds from gfm due to finding out 3 people that were donated to were actual scammers (my husband was devastated because he's always been into charity for his church. He was raised Episcopelian so giving to others is like breathing to him. He's too good for this mean world so yeah, I was understandably pissed when I found out about the scamming and his feelings getting hurt and decided to just not answer such asks and stick to how I do things now.

Just to make sure that people that actually need to get the money get it as they should and so I won't see my husband that upset again.

Hopefully someday these unscrupulous greedy people won't be hurting a process meant to help people.

Trying to avoid using too much profanity in this post, lol. But my blood still boils at the fact that there's such evil people out there that would lie to take money from those who desperate need it.

I ain't a nice person. Like at all. But when I want to help someone I'll feel their pain as my very own and I help them.

I don't want to lose the last bit of goodness in me due to greedy scammers. I've had too many disappointments.

[worldwright]

Good evening ! I went to the doctor's office to ask for painkillers and maybe crutches, and left with prescriptions for a scan of both of my knees, an appointment to see a podiatrist, and a brain MRI

wtf

ive never done one of those things in my life before

Also, my doctor basically said "fuck off the notice of your antidepressants, just take ibuprofen when it's the only thing that works for you", so that was nice

I love her, she never says stuff related to my weight, because she knows, she also knows that I can't take more than a meal a day, and was fucking delighted when we saw I gained weight after my trip from the unit after my attempt.

So, yeah, apparently your knees shouldn't make the sounds of bubblewrap and your shoes shouldn't look like that after 2 years of use

Also, I always thought that it was just headaches because "they're not that bad" and she went "lol nope, sounds awfully like migraines" and oh that makes sense why my go-to to make them go away is sleeping because even if i wake up still in pain, at least i didn't feel the pain for hours

I knew my body wasn't the best, but, man, what the fuck

Now my knees hurt, because of course just making them do their job is hard for them, and I'm thinking about stealing my mom's crutches (she doesn't need them anymore) if it's worse tomorrow :')

Also. I'm always looking to be sure the scenes in my fics are around the same size, but, well, the third one's about 1k words and that's half the fic's words for now. it's going out of control, and that's a good news, because if a fic goes out of control it means that im gonna finish it :)

Have a wonderful morning my friend !

hey that's a solid amount of GOOD medical news for once!! or at least, measurable progress towards good news lol

it's awesome that your doc is actually understanding and helpful, and like. is actually doing stuff to try and help you

also FUCK yeah gaining weight!! congrats!!

yeahhhhh uh those shoes may be. indicative of an Issue... ehehe rip

I Also have medical news today lmao, though not for me -- my friend is FINALLY going to urgent care for her incredibly fucked-up back. like it took her being unable to WALK for several HOURS for her to go get some help... not that I blame her, cuz of a) depression and b) the dogshit medical system in this shithole country

anyway, hoping for her to get some corrective care, pain meds, and hopefully a back brace 👍👍 at LEAST

i saw a really promising apartment listing last night, but it turned out to be fake :'))))))))) I was like 75% prepared to push up the move to like next month if the listing worked out. but no that would be too convenient

I'm watching dunmesh with my dad lol, he seems to like it :3 not that he's super into anime in general, but I can usually convince him to watch stuff with me

I gotta start getting rid of stuff I don't need, to prep for the move... I can probably donate like 30% of my craft supplies lol. maybe I'll borrow the car for a day and make some runs to thrift shops

hope you have a lovely evening, friend!!

[ofstormsandfire]

Greetings! Hi! Im just trying to reach out for help if it’s okay! My cat is in need of urgent help so I’m trying to raise some funds for his care, I made a post about it and I pinned it on my blog, hoping that you’d be so kind to help me spread the word, please as every bit of help can get him one step closer to relief. I would truly appreciate it and i pray that all goes well on your end, too! stay safe! By the way, if its possible, try to answer this ask in private so people won’t think I "pressured" you to do so, some people can be weird about these things. Sorry again for being direct. 🥹

Oh, yay, I've hit the "popular enough to get targeted with this scam" milestone. Not sure how to feel about that.

So, I'm... basically 99% sure that this is a scam, because

You have literally no posts on your blog older than 9 hours ago. You reblogged exactly 10 things and then made your donation post.

I've seen something similar to this before on another person's blog.

The fact that you want me to answer this ask in private is sus as all hell. Wouldn't answering it publicly mean that more people see your donation post? Unless, of course, you don't want specific people to see it...

On the off chance that this is real—which I strongly, strongly doubt—Tumblr is not the place to go for donations. I boost good-faith posts when I see them anyway, but this... I don't think it is.

I'd delete this and move on, but hey, if I'm important enough to try and scam like this, maybe I'm important enough that I can keep other people from being scammed by you too.

So I'm answering this ask first. Publicly. Because I might have believed you if I didn't already know what to look out for. (Thank you, Diane Duane, for your very informative post on the matter.)

Then I'm blocking you and moving on.

Have a nice day :)

[shera-dnd]

Good news, my dad just came back from surgery and he's doing fine. Recovery is gonna be a slow process, but the surgery seems to have gone pretty well for him and things are healing fine.

Bad news, that means that for the next 60 days it's all on me to keep this family afloat, so please I am asking for all the help I can get for what is gonna be this family's roughest couple of months.

I'd usually use my cute fursona and make a big deal about all the cool shit I can write for you guys, but right now I wanna have a more straightforward conversation.

I'll get back to making this a fun little fundraiser later, because I really don't like making things too bleak.

This blog has been my job for the past 3 years. It has paid the bills, paid for my meds, paid for my therapy, and for the past 3 years I've been a net 0 for my family. Sure I didn't bring much money to the table, but I wasn't costing them anything either.

And that was fine. My family was more than happy with that arrangement and so was I. I cannot express how grateful I am for all of you who have helped this be possible. I'm literally making my country's minimum wage by writing fanfiction on the internet, and that's a real blessing.

The thing is. My dad will spend the next 60 days recovering. He is self employed and he and my mom work together making furniture. Which means that if he can't work, she can't work, and if neither of them can work, then I am the only source of income for this household

For the next 2 months I'm gonna have to sustain four people all on my own. That means rent, bills, meds, therapy, all that stuff. We do have some money saved up, but I'm hoping we get to keep that and only use it for groceries or some emergency at the worst.

I did some math and that should add up to around a thousand dollars total (god bless dollar to reais conversion rates). But making a thousand dollars right at the end of those 2 months isn't gonna help anyone. Bills need to be paid and those have due times, and it would be very difficult for me to even access that money if my internet got cancelled by the end of those months.

So we're doing 250 dollars every two weeks. Seems pretty doable, right? Well today is the final day for the first 250 dollar goal, which will be used to pay for power, water, and internet bills this week, as well as the pain meds my dad has to take now that he's recovering.

We got 156 dollars down, which is pretty good actually, but it's not enough quite yet. I know it's a lot to ask for, but I really could use as much help as I can get right now.

I'm not expecting someone to swoop in heroically and drop 100 dollars on me right now. Honestly I don't want anyone to invest so much money on me on their own.

What I need is for a handful of people to throw some spare change my way. There are nearly three thousand people following this blog, so even if less than 1% of you guys see this message and toss me like 3 dollars at the most, it's still gonna add up FAST.

And if you can't do that then reblog this, boost it, send it to friends, give this enough reach that eventually someone will see it and will choose to help my family, even if it's with little more than pocket change.

Because when I say "any donation can make a world of difference" I MEAN IT WITH FULL HONESTY

The Emergency in the title of the "Weasel Den Emergency Fund" is not a joke, even if the cute little weasel makes it seem less urgent.

Her name is Snori btw. Blame @midnightechoes for that name.

Anyways. I think that's all I have to say in this little honest heart to heart.

I think tomorrow I'll get back to hyping up all the fics I can write and share the cute pics of Snori being adorable

Thank you all for your attention, as well as any reblogs and donations.

Hope y'all have a nice weekend

[thera-daydreams]

INDAY

± A Trese Fic ±

[Crispin/Basilio/Maliksi/Dominic x Skymaiden!Reader]

01: Noon at Ngayon (✓)

02: Ang Kambal na Anak ni Datu Talagbusao, Diyos ng Digmaan (Link)

03: Ang Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang (Link)

04: Ang Pinuno ng Mga Aswang (Link)

05: (Link) 06: (Link) 07: (Link)

01: Noon at Ngayon

Back then, long before you were born, your mother used to work as a katulong of the Trese Family and was very close to its matriarch, Miranda Trese. Coming from the province, she was no stranger to superstitions—even more so after knowing the work of Miranda's husband Anton Trese, who was actually the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila.

Years later, after giving birth to you around the same time Miranda gave birth to her twins (one a stillborn, unfortunately), it was you and Alexandra who became best buddies instead, as different your personalities were. You two had practically grown up together and you yourself heard countless stories of the supernatural from your Tito Anton. It wasn't that hard to believe when he and his sigbin companions would sometimes come home tracking blood prints on the floors (which you'd helped your mother clean up). Heck, you'd even met Señor Armanaz, the Great Stallion himself and the ruling tikbalang of the Armanaz herd. That pretty, white-haired diwata seemed extremely fond of you, too, which was evident when you'd sneak in with Alexandra to Tito Anton's meetings and she would smile (even wave) at you happily.

You had absolutely no idea why the fae-like lady was so nice to you, but you weren't complaining at all!

However, in spite of your experiences with the supernatural, you and your mother always believed that you were normal humans. In actuality, that was who you were for the majority of your childhood. It was only until Miranda herself saw a vision of you—a much older you—fighting the monsters of the Underworld alongside her own daughter. During dinnertime, Miranda told your mother that she saw you blessed by the heavens with powers that would aid in the battle against evil.

It sounded absolutely ridiculous, right? Yeah, your mom thought so, too.

Your mother only laughed it off as she placed a steaming bowl of tinola in front of Alexandra's brothers, who instantly dug in like they haven't been fed in years.

"Boys! Dahan-dahan lang," Anton reprimanded his sons. "Or else you'll choke and the soup will come out of your noses!"

"Okay, Papa."

"Grabe ka naman, Miranda. I doubt that anything like that's going to happen to my daughter," your mom chuckled, watching your little hands try to feed Alexandra with a piece of chicken. "Unlike you guys, our lineage isn't anything special. Ordinaryo lang ang lahi namin."

Miranda sighed, looking at you and her only living daughter enjoying your time being kids, "I guess you're right. Baka panaginip lang talaga 'yun."

Anton glanced at her knowingly. Although he was aware that you and your mom didn't dabble in magic or anything like they did, he knew that whenever Miranda—one of the Seven Seers—had such vivid dreams, it was something of great importance. But he decided to say nothing, understanding how much your mother wanted to let you live as normal of a life possible in this household.

That was when you were seven years old. One year later, Miranda died fighting against a group of aswang who decided to betray Anton. Said man found the eight-year-old Alexandra hiding in a corner behind the waterfalls, scared and holding Sinag close to her heaving chest as she tried to hold her tearful sobs in.

Of course, a few days later, you and your mother attended the funeral with the mourning Trese family. All the brothers had done their best to stay strong, especially for their little sister who didn't fully understand yet what just happened. Little you ran towards Alexandra, holding her hand tightly as her mother's casket was lowered. Around you were various comrades, both human and non-human, paying their respects to their bereaved allies.

That day, as you turned your back to return to your mother's arms, you knew you would never forget the feeling of numerous unearthly eyes following your every movement.

Even they could sense that there was something about you, a so-called regular human child. You smelled human and had the aura of one, but there was something they couldn't place. It was like a tiny rock getting into your shoe, not coming out at all.

Much changed after that, but you and Alexandra remained close together. To your dismay, just after you graduated elementary, you and your mother had to move back to the province to stay with your sick grandparents. The last thing you could remember was kneeling in the back of the car, looking sadly through the rear windscreen as Alexandra and her brothers waved goodbye to you.

More than a decade had passed since then. You used to write letters to Alexandra, but after Hank told you she had to undergo the trials of the Puno ng Balete, you haven't heard from her (although Hank did disclose that she'd managed to come home safely, which was a great relief to you). You didn't blame her; you knew Tito Anton had passed away in the five years she was gone and that she had to take over the title of Lakan, as well as the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila. It was a demanding job! You remembered Tito Anton sometimes staying up all night—breakfast would be served and he would still be in his study, going over paperwork. On other days, he would be gone for consecutive nights handling cases all around Manila. You could only pray Alexandra was fine.

Your life had continued on, as well—you took care of your ill grandparents until they died, helped your mother in the province, went to a good highschool, then earned your degree in another prominent city that wasn't Manila.

Your mom actually recommended that you go to school somewhere else, given the constantly rising number of attacks in the capital of the country. And so you did. Life was hard, but normal until then.

The funny thing was that, when you reached the age of twenty-one, you finally understood why those supernatural creatures kept looking at you weirdly as a kid (and why Lady Diwata liked you so much).

What was even funnier was that the dramatic revelation came to you when you weren't in the Philippines. It was after you freshly graduated college, when you were traveling all over Asia to volunteer in charity projects. It was always your dream to one day expand your horizons not only beyond your province, but the Philippines itself, while also doing good in the world.

And here you were, walking that path you dreamt of.

The organization you luckily managed to become a member of provided everything you needed, and every few months, you would move from country to country. Because of that, you'd already been able to travel to so many places. First it was Thailand, then Indonesia, China, South Korea, India, Japan, Sri Lanka, Singapore, Malaysia, and currently, you were in Vietnam. Visiting those places was fun and gave you a whole new perspective of the world you lived in; it was a... learning experience, too.

Still, that incident happened when you were in Thailand, when you were the last one in the rented apartment balcony taping up the boxes for the donation drive tomorrow. Yawning, you cut more duct tape and stuck them to the open boxes tightly.

"Inday," someone said from behind you. You didn't bother turning around, thinking it was one of your fellow volunteers looking for you this late at night. Probably your roommate. She was the only one who usually called you by your nickname instead of your real name.

"Hmm?" you hummed, taping up more boxes. "Papasok na ako sa kwarto, Lyn. I just have a few more boxes to close. Alam mong mapapagalitan ako kung may hindi madidistribute bukas."

"Hindi ako si Lyn."

You paused, then slowly turned around, flinching at the sudden bright light that shone right against your eyes. For a moment, akala mo namatay ka na at hinaharap mo si San Pedro.

It was a glowing figure in white whose face you couldn't clearly see, which frightened you even more.

"Ay, mama!" you exclaimed, shielding your eyes and falling to your knees. Then, you gasped loudly, patting your body and panicking with closed lids. "Oh my God, am I dead? Nasa heaven na po ba ako?" Your lips wobbled. "Ngayon pa nga lang ako nakaalis ng Pilipinas... I haven't even done all the things I've wanted to do! Hindi pa ako nakapagpaalam sa nanay ko—aray!"

You'd felt something hit the back of your head. Hard. It was the glowing figure in white, but now you could see their unimpressed face scowling at you.

"Kalma lang, Inday. Hindi ka pa patay, pero makinig ka nang mabuti," they shushed you urgently (you weren't sure if they were male or female). "Do not be afraid. I am a messenger from the heavens, and I bear great news!"

"Great news...?" you trailed off, then your eyes widened excitedly. "Like, nanalo ba ako ng lotto? Isang milyon? Bilyon? Hala! Wait, is this a Mama Mary moment? I'm not ready to be the next immaculate conception!"

They glared at you, making you shut up instantly. "Sorry, I'll shut up now," you apologized with a mumble. This person (thing?) was kind of... strict. Whatever did you do wrong? You were just sleep-deprived and running on energy drinks (as well as kape).

"I have come to tell you that you are the vessel of the last skymaiden," they revealed, arms wide open. The light around them seemed to grow even brighter, making you squint. You felt like you were about the go blind! "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N L/N."

At ayun, zero brain cells remaining. Tunay na nagloading screen ang brain mo. Nag-error at nagcrash pa nga siguro, eh.

"... Ha? Ano?"

You blinked, completely speechless—as seen by how wide your jaw had dropped open. It wasn't that you were unfamiliar with the biraddali, it was just that you'd only heard of them once when you were just a young child. Your Tita Miranda had mentioned they were long gone from the world of the supernatural.

"Oh no, me? A biraddali? You're joking," you stuttered out, pointing at yourself. "Aren't they extinct or something? And, uh... not human?"

They nodded, "Yes. It is correct that everyone in the mystical world thought that the biraddali were long gone, even before the colonizers came to conquer the native lands. However, before the skymaidens all disappeared, the youngest and most powerful one among the seven sisters sealed her soul away to the rivers of time until the strength of a heavenly being was needed to help purify the evils of the world." The figure floated closer to you. "That last biraddali's soul, along with its corresponding power, traits, and knowledge, had chosen to reside deep within you the moment you were conceived."

Honestly, how were you even supposed to react? Your life was nowhere near ready for something like this. Was this a prank by your friends? Your colleagues? The light around this person seemed too authentic to be fake, though.

You stayed in shock for an entire minute, silent. The being in front of you only waited for a response.

"Ano 'to, Sailor Moon? Winx Club?" you whispered to yourself, before slapping your own cheek and scolding yourself. A stinging red mark was left on your face. "Inday, kakamanhwa mo 'yan! Nasosobraan ka na ata, matulog ka na!"

Sighing heavily, you rubbed your face tiredly, still in disbelief that you—according to this stranger—were apparently some old soul from a species of ethereal beings that were long gone. It sounded like something out of those reincarnation webnovels you got addicted to. What now, you were the MC? Wattpad ka, girl?

"Look, this is a mistake. I still have to wake up early tomorrow to give out the donations," you spoke to the glowing being (or whatever it was), laughing nervously. "I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong person. Either that or I must be hallucinating from sleep deprivation, because I'm definitely not a divine creature. You're probably just a product of my imagination. Sorry, I'm going to bed."

Bang!

At that moment, the power in the building went out. The only thing you could see was the thing who assumed you were a biraddali (they were so bright they were like a flashlight in the dark for you).

"Brownout?" you blinked. It felt wrong, though. It was eerily silent. "Did a fuse blow up?"

"Nagsimula na ang iyong unang pagsubok, Y/N," they announced seriously. "Creatures of the dark have already begun to take over this building. You may not have noticed, but all throughout your life, you have always been helping and giving. It is your nature as a being descended from the heavens themselves, and now, it is time for you to accept your destiny."

"Hoy, sandali lang! Sandali, sandali!" You were absolutely wide awake now as you heard the sounds of strange whispers around you. It was terrifyingly creepy, much creepier than whatever you'd seen back in the Trese Residence (and you'd seen a lot in that house). You did not want to be a part of a horror movie-like lifestyle. "Don't I have a choice in this?! I—I don't have any training or fighting skills! Hindi ako Alexandra Trese o Babaylan-Mandirigma! I'm not ready for this, holy sh—"

The candescent creature raised a brow at you, "Inday, I just told you that you have the power of a lost mystical being. And tell me, if you had the power to save your companions in this building from the forces of evil, would you save them?"

You were silent, knowing the answer.

"Well?" they prodded.

You bit your lip, "Oo naman. I'm not heartless!" But you were a little impulsive. And apparently, insane.

"That's what I thought. I just need you to believe in yourself," the being encouraged, gentler this time. It transformed into something smaller and rounder—like a ball of light. "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N, at marami kang kapangyarihan. Isa dito ay ang pagtulong sa mga nangangailangan, lalo na laban sa masasamang nilalang."

Bestie, what had you just gotten into?

You swallowed apprehensively, then nodded in determination, "Sige. So, how do I save the people in the building? Biraddali were said to be able to shapeshift, right? If I remember the tale correctly. Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening to me right now."

"That's just one of your abilities, but I'll teach you. I'm actually your guide," they replied confidently. "With me, you'll be able to master your powers and exceed your capabilities in no time!"

"Wait! Anong pangalan mo?" you asked breathlessly, following them as they speedily flew out of the room. "Grabe, slow down! I'm not athletic! I haven't even exercised this week, goodness."

"... Gabay. Ako si Gabay."

Despite the adrenaline and fear running in your veins, you still grinned up at the ball of light, "Okay. Nice to meet you, Gabay."

This was just the beginning of your supernatural combat training abroad. When you returned to the Philippines three years later, you were stronger, faster, and more powerful than you'd ever felt before. It was crazy.

Oh, that guy who tried to rob you when you came back to Manila was crazy, too. The two identical-looking men in dark suits and white ties—you wondered how they were surviving the heat in that attire—could only watch in awe as you chased down that man who stole your bag while doing acrobatics and parkour.

"Uy, Kuya Crispin, sino kaya 'yun?"

"Ewan ko, Basilio."

"... She's kind of pretty. Type ko. Type mo rin ata."

"The more important question is, paano niya na nahuli ang magnanakaw?"

"Oo nga, no? One in a million chance 'yan dito sa Maynila, haha! Ang astig ni ate!"

(Next Chapter.)

± Author's Notes ±

Ayieee, type daw tayo ng kambal! 😌

How the hell did I write this entirely random thing in one day? 2k+ words? Ano daw? 😃⁉️

You know, this was supposed to just be a Trese one-shot or a bunch of drabbles for the characters I'm currently simping for... but it turned into a full-blown, shameless self-insert slash crackfic. Kakacellphone ko 'yan. 🤦‍♀️

Nagresearch pa ako ng articles about Filipino skymaidens because I wanted something similiar to the Japanese celestial maidens (tennyo). Very random idea but why not? Gusto ko ng badass Y/N na hindi takot lumaban sa mga mumu! 👻

Also, pagbigyan niyo nalang ang matandang 'to kasi ilang taon na akong hindi nagpopost ng mga writings ko. May track record pa naman ako bilang author na hindi nagtatapos ng mga fanfic, hehe. I also haven't read the comics so please forgive me for any inaccuracies and of course, misspellings/errors. Gusto ko lang matapos 'to para makakabalik na ako sa Jujutsu Kaisen. 🥲😗

Anyways, comments and constructive criticism are welcome! Hit those heart, reblog, and follow buttons for updates! Just comment if you want to be tagged in the next chapters. ❤

[kyle-valenti]

burnout only feels like burning

2.7k / Summary: kyle valenti doesn't have the same quarantine as his friends; an exploration of kyle's trauma during covid as a doctor. (tw depression & other triggers you’d imagine with this subject)

read & comment/ ao3

A little like the virus itself, Kyle’s relationship with his mask begins with worry, annoyance, and then pain. He’s more than happy to have the proper N-95 mask as they begin to get their first case at Roswell General but then a couple more patients trickle in and within a few days his skin is irritated and itching. Maybe it’s the news, maybe it’s the texts from his friends that he’s increasingly missing, but when the Regiment starts spouting off about how COVID is a joke he thinks it might be affecting his nerves too. By week three his former red mark left by the mask has become a permanent feature to his face and by week five it’s not a mark but a bruise instead. Blisters and cracks in his skin litter his hands from over-washing. His feet become so overused the pads of his feet feel numb and bruised and he wears through an entire pair of shoes.

Positivity has fled from his life by week seven and now he’s inside of a survival mode he’s never experienced. He thought after last year he’d be used to anything the world (or universe, rather, given all these aliens) could throw at him. Now what feels foolish, he had believed that there was nothing that could be worse than the previous pain of losing a patient or finding out his father had experimented on people’s lives. 

When he’s out of ventilators and CPAP machines because Albuquerque needs them more and he has to choose whether or not to save the life of an eighty five year old or a thirty two year old he remembers from high school, he breaks.

 Guilt is one thing, grief is another, but the pure rage he feels knowing that Max Evans is out on the town patrolling as some fucking cop and not someone who could heal most of this hospital makes him want to commit actual murder. Maybe trading the blood of an alien on his hands would feel less heart-wrenching. But no. Max had brought back Rosa and had paid the price. Quelling his anger, he went back to work.

 He slept at the hospital most nights in the height of it. Sure the couch was rough, but it was better than the other on-call doctor beds down the hall. Three twelve hour ER shifts of a usual work week doubled to five days of thirteen hour shifts. Soon there’s a week where he pulls double shifts for an entire week when one of his nurses is urgently hospitalized herself. Hospital directors had left them with no PPE except contaminated masks to reuse. Maria, Isobel, and Rosa are in the forefront of a drive to make and donate masks to his hospital after some social media posts that he doesn’t even see until the cloth masks arrive and his medical assistants give him their handwritten note. It makes him smile, but smiling feels so foreign that he almost wants to break from that.

 Visitors are no longer allowed which means Kyle isn’t allowed to use his bedside manner to comfort the family of patients. He has to facetime mothers, spouses, and children and hold the phone over a patient who can’t breathe without machine assistance and pretend that everything is fine and that there’s still hope despite the hypoxia and lack of rising vitals. Ignore that if the patient goes into cardiac arrest more than once, the kindest thing to do given prognosis is to let the patient pass. Resuscitation and DNR (a patient’s begging request to not be resuscitated) becomes a word he uses in his daily work and not simply for intense surgeries.

 Exhaustion isn’t a deep enough adjective to describe the fugue state he goes into. File to file, room to room, ventilator to next… he isn’t surprised when his body starts to wear down. When he no longer feels hunger and instead feels all too hot and dizzy. Telling himself it’s just because of how much he’s exerting his body while covered in layers and layers of protective clothing doesn’t help the fact that he’s starting to have more trouble breathing as he walks the hallways at a fast pace. When he begins to cough, he does what he promised himself he wouldn’t do and drives out post-shift to the desert cabin of Max Evans.

 Part of him is too desperately tired to knock, but when he arrives on the property with the cop car idle and the house dark and at peace for the night, his fury greets him with the embrace of a long-lost friend. Knuckles pound at the wood and Max answers the door with surprise and a general look of defense, and Kyle tries not to immediately punch him in the face at the fact he looks like he had woken up from a comfortable sleep.

 “Heal me.” Kyle manages to spit out.

 “I—what’s wrong?”

 “Beginning stages of respiratory distress, fever, nausea—what do you fucking think?”

 “Kyle—,” Max starts to say, the hesitation deepening, and that does it.

 “No. I have not asked you for anything in all of this, Evans. Anything!” He shouts, voice hoarse. “Not when people got sick, not when they started dying, not even when we started having to let people die on purpose. And you know what? I wasn’t going to even come and ask you now, but I can’t get sick when I’m the one here fucking saving lives out of the two of us and you’re just cruising the streets handing out goddamn traffic tickets.”

 Max’s face isn’t stony like it usually is when Kyle’s yelling at him; this time it’s crushed and guilty but not nearly enough. “What kind of hours you work this week, Evans? A nice 8 to 4? Did you get facetime with Isobel or your mom, maybe binge through a few books and movies after you’re home? Did you sit down and eat a nice dinner and or go over to drink a few beers with Guerin since you can’t get sick? Even get a nice eight hours of sleep in your own bed in your nice quiet home?”

 No response.

 “I am not asking to sequence your DNA like Liz. All I am asking is for you to let me heal people since you don’t want to.”

 A night breeze is all that makes noise for a moment as Kyle catches his breath and glares at Max, who stands quietly but is staring down at his boots before he finally looks up and nods. Max steps forward then, and Kyle sees that his eyes are actually filled with tears. Temper deflating, but still not subsiding entirely, given that not much else is able to be done; Kyle lets Max place a hand on his shoulder and feels the extremely weird feeling spread throughout his body. Something more electric than anything else, which God knew made a lot more sense concerning his powers and how the body operated with electrical nerve impulses, but that is a train of thought better left for another day. He wants to just walk away, and he almost does, but he still mutters a “thank you” before he does so.

When his nurse dies a few days later and he watches as the staff double bag her body to take to the morgue, he escapes to his office and crashes on his couch with sobs. There’s no one here to support him. He can’t go to his mother’s home and collapse into one of her comforting embraces without risking infecting her. He can’t get wasted at the Wild Pony with Maria when it’s closed. He can’t visit Rosa or Arturo at the Crashdown. Keeping his friends and family safe meant keeping them away from him. Keeping them safe meant he needed to stop pushing his head into his hands to try and control the sound of his crying and get back to work at saving the lives around them.

He gets put on leave by the hospital administrator when he’s almost arrested for decking Wyatt Long in the hospital parking lot as the idiot stood outside with a sign rallying Regiment members to make sure the hospital was told it was killing people on purpose for the election. If Jenna hadn’t been the officer on duty he would have been cuffed and put on record, jeopardizing his license, but there was some self-preserving part of him that desperately wished for his practice to be over anyway. He’s not even sure how Jenna handles it, honestly, all he remembers is her dropping him off at his house from her patrol car like she had been nothing but an uber. No matter how angry and adamant he gets, his boss refuses to bend, saying it’s for his own good given the connections the Long’s have in the town and how Kyle has worked almost 74 of the past 76 days.

Alex is the first to visit him, unannounced. When the doorbell rings Kyle is mindlessly pretending to watch some tv show in his living room that’ll distract him from his consuming thoughts about patients, so he doesn’t get up to answer. He checks his silent phone to see if he was forewarned of a visitor but sees nothing. Unsure if it’s his boss or a patient’s family, he forces himself up onto his sore feet and opens the door after grabbing a regular mask off the coffee table. Black face mask on and standing further out from the door on the porch is Alex, the usual gruff hello turned into something soft. “Hey.”

Kyle heaves a sigh. He had wondered when the pity visits would begin. “Hey. You really shouldn’t be around me, you know.”

“I’m clearly a minimum of eight feet away in an open space while masked.” Alex smarts back. “Either way, I’m worried about you.”

Scoffing, he shakes his head. “Don’t fucking worry about me. Worry about getting sick, because if I have to see another person I care about die, I--,”

“Kyle.” the other says too kindly, the sort of pacifying voice Alex reserved for only the most dire situations. “I have no idea what you’re dealing with in specifics, but my experiences do overlap with yours in some places.”

“And?”

Maybe it came out a little too rude, because Alex raises a brow, but then sighs instead. “And I’m just checking in to make sure you know people care about you.”

“Thanks, Manes.” Kyle huffs in return, managing not to roll his eyes because focusing on being blunt and abrasive was so much easier.

“Just be careful.” Alex interjects before Kyle could close the door and turn back to his show. “Dealing with the trauma of what you’re dealing with gets dark very quickly.”

“Because I punched Wyatt Long?” he spits back sarcastically.

“No, because the suicide rates for healthcare professionals are drastically increasing along with the rates of PTSD diagnoses.” Alex says flatly, ever one to be unfazed by sarcasm. “And I’ve lost more active duty members to suicide than I have combat.”

Kyle pauses, caught. Maybe Alex had known he would be, because there isn’t some way he can give a smile and reassuring wave with him like he could his mother or Liz. While Kyle hadn’t actively thought of a plan, he couldn’t pretend he had noticed signs of depression the second he was alone in his house. 

“The quiet is the worst part, right?” Alex says, all but reading his mind. “Not always because of the flashbacks, although those are horrible, but because if things are quiet then--,”

“--people are dying.” Kyle finishes, his voice raspier by the end of the three words. “Yeah, well, mine still are.”

“They’re going to.” Is what felt like a cold response, but somehow gave Kyle the understanding he’s been craving. “They’re going to die and because of your profession you’re going to be able to save some of them. Which will make you think you’re responsible to save all of them and because you’re a good person you’re going to feel guilty in ways that no one will understand for being human and failing to.”

“Failing is all I do lately.” Kyle replies. “Usually the wins feel higher than the losses as a doctor, but with this-- and no one outside of it cares. They go outside and yell about how this is about a fucking election and when it’s not the patients, it’s the hospital pretending they don’t have enough money to buy us proper protection. Or the government saying this will all go away and that it’s just a light cold.”

Alex gives a small nod. “I know. I also know telling you the same advice that you’d give another doctor of trying not to burn out and instead taking a small rest is useless. So I’m just going to drop off these dvd’s and make you report back to me the difference when you’re done.”

Star Trek and Star Wars. Kyle finds a smile tug on his lips. Alex leaves with one on his as well.

When he gives a response to Alex a few days later on how Star Wars is better not more than a few minutes later Deluca is texting him with recommendations on joining her Buffy the Vampire Slayer rewatch. There’s something sweet about the fact that people have been clearly talking about him, even if definitely borderline creepy with how nosy his circle of friends can be, but he sighs and lets Maria add him to the group chat she has with Rosa and Liz where they review each episode after the fact and even chimes in every now and then. Isobel gets added not long after due to an Instagram story Maria shares and then the group has moved onto Friends after everyone shoots down Liz for suggesting Grey’s Anatomy on behalf of Kyle. Alex is also in there, even if it’s rare he chimes in with an opinion, but once they start Friends his commentary about how much he hates Ross that gets the entire group riled up does tend to make him laugh. Even Kyle agrees with Forest-- whose opinion had been shared by Alex-- that Chandler had all too many queer-coded scenes with Joey.

His mother facetimes him daily, which given how they both don’t exactly go out much starts to become monotonous, until she begins to give in and talk about memories she has of their father. Tidbits she never would have shared with him about their adult life when he was a child or teenager. He in turn facetimes Rosa and shares some of the memories of their father as well, which as much as she tries to pretend she doesn’t want for Arturo’s sake she clearly does with the million questions she asks every single time and the small smile she gives him at the end of their calls.

Liz updates him on her work which is a nice reprieve from everyone’s normalcy and lack of medical jargon sometimes, especially when she gives him inside info on covid vaccine studies not yet published to the general public yet. Everything in him wants this more than anything else in the world right now and he texts her almost every day asking if she’s heard more news even when he knows things take time. She’s a good sport about everything, even when he shares in a very angry rant about Max Evans and how they could have helped so many more people so much more quickly with his DNA-- however selfish that might have been.

When he goes back to work, he feels refreshed, even when it makes things hit like a freight train once more. Lost in a sea of inadequacy, his feelings extend past the pandemic. Even when things return to a level of normalcy and the cases subside he gets alien medical drama thrown in his face once more, and he starts to wonder if he’ll ever recover. If he was wrong to choose this calling. If the fact he can’t help Max or Maria is a sign from above or his father that it’s time to make some career move or change location like his mother and Liz. But, like he tells Michael Guerin. He can’t think he can face his future children and say he walked away from this. Or let people die by quitting, just like Rosa warns. And so he stays and tries to heal both other people and himself.

[hisunshiine]

Escape ✈︎ Chapter 1

✈︎ chapter 1: dear lucky ARMY...   | ✈︎ Escape Series — 18+, Mature

   ✈︎ genre: none this chapter future smut, fluff, angst

    ✈︎ word count: 1,143 words

    ✈︎ pairing: none this chapter

    ✈︎ warnings: none this chapter

 ✈︎ summary: It was a running joke within the fandom that you all should just buy an island, move there, and have Namjoon be the president. That is, it 𝘸𝘢𝘴 a running joke, until one day on Twitter, it all came to a head. When the GoFundMe receives enough money and instructions to purchase said island, what choice is there to make but to do it?

✈︎ a/n: hi! this story is near and dear to me and @mrsparkjimin18​′s heart! we started this story last year to help cope with covid-19 for both us and our friends who are readers! we hope that we can do the same for you and provide an escape. the first 2 chapters are short and start off slow, but i promise it picks up chapter 3 with our first pairing and some smut and then it doesn’t stop. lol

   | series masterlist | next chapter | hisunshiine | mrsparkjimin18 |

It has been a few weeks since you and the girls came up with the idea to start a GoFundMe, and donations have been flowing in. You receive a message from Vanessa, saying it’s urgent and to call her immediately.

“Nessa, what’s going on? What is so urgent?” You ask. You can hear her rapidly clicking the keys on her keyboard.

“Have you checked our GoFundMe today?” she asks. You wonder why she is asking, feeling nervous at the tone in her voice.

“No, have we reached our goal of twenty thousand dollars?! That would be amazing and it has only been--”

She cuts you off.

“Girl… no… w-we, I mean somebody, an anonymous donor donated an extremely generous amount, just check the account. I have to make sure I am not losing my mind.”

You open your laptop and pull up the account, when you see the donation you drop your phone and scream.

“Is this real?!?! I-I….WE ARE GOING TO BUY AN ISLAND!!!!!!” You remember that Vanessa is still on the phone.

“Hello?! Y/N!!!! What the hell? So I’m not crazy?!” She is just as excited as you are.

“No, you’re not...the donor also put a note of a few islands we could purchase. Well, what do you want to do?”

Vanessa answers quickly.

“We need to start looking into this donor's suggestions, like now.” You both agree to let the other admins of the page look into the islands and you will have to decide by tomorrow.

After researching all night, everybody has agreed to purchase a Caribbean Island: Long Caye, Belize. The island already has standing properties, enough for a decent amount of people to live in for starters, so there wasn’t any work that needed to be done right away. 

Since everyone had come to an agreement on which island to choose, Vanessa  reached out to the donor, notifying them that you all were thankful to them for not only their donation, but also their list of islands, as it made it easier for you all to make a choice. After a few days, of which you were growing more and more nervous, the donor finally messaged back and disclosed that they were willing to pay for a charter plane to transport 14 lucky people to the island. 

Of course the seven of you will all be going, since you were the ones who came up with the idea. Vanessa suggested a Twitter Giveaway, with 7 lucky winners to come live on Bangtania Island. The giveaway contest will run for two weeks, and then upon it’s closing, the 7 winners will be chosen and then announced two weeks after. This would give you all enough time to go through the entries and select the 7 lucky people who would join your group of seven and fly to your newly acquired island, Bangtania.

The amount of people who entered the giveaway was insane. Of course there were those who didn’t believe that such a thing was real, but Vanessa posted the proof of the purchase on the giveaway account page, along with a video made with you and the 6 other girls, and now it was almost draining watching the notifications rack up. Daily you each took turns monitoring entries and adding the names to the raffle, cross checking entries with the word document to make sure there weren’t double entries from the same page. 

You couldn’t wait till it was over, having already packed up your stuff as soon as you had seen the donations on GoFundMe had exceeded the amount needed; you just wanted to be done with all the bullshit and go live on your own island with other ARMY that you had made friends with on Twitter.

Sitting on the plane, 13 girls surrounding you laughing and drinking the complimentary champagne on board, you read over the email that everyone had received a few days before departure.

Hey guys, the donor sent this email to me and asked me to forward it to you all!

Dear lucky ARMY,

Congratulations on being one of the 14 to kick off this new venture. I ran across your GoFundMe while looking for worthwhile groups to donate to, and I saw what you had written about everything your fandom has gone through, and how you needed an escape. In these trying times, I can understand that need, and I hope that my donation was able to help you with your goal so that you will enjoy living on the island. We may not know each other, but I was so moved by your passion for your favorite group, that I have decided to continue to help you all out. The charity I have extended doesn’t just end at the plane, as I have decided to continue to donate to help your small island nation thrive, as it is a very good tax write off for me. Since you have no source of income from the island just yet, I will be helping send shipments to the island of what you need. It would be best to appoint someone to be in charge of things, like keeping track of food, water, toiletries, etc. so that you can stay stocked up for everyone. I will be sending a delivery to arrive before you get there of some basics that will help with getting started. You will find it in the main house. I trust Miss Vanessa has received the key to get everyone situated upon your arrival. I have already sent someone to set up the water and electricity, as well as internet access. Once there it will be prudent that you set up some type of form of government, unfortunately a country cannot function without one, but with so few people, this should not be difficult. Trust one another, and as your favorite boys say, love yourself, and love each other, and enjoy.

The rest of the email provided the addresses of the different buildings on the island, like the main house, the empty building that could be seen as a sort of town hall, and the convenient little storefronts off the very small port area for docking boats. 

The storefronts were not actively in use, and one shop was an open room that was full of mailboxes for deliveries, and each of you was given your own for post, which was nice. You were all able to share your address with friends and family before leaving, instructing them with how to send you care packages and letters.  

You looked up from your phone as you could hear a rather loud chorus of laughter; Talia had said something funny and Vanessa was hunched over wiping away tears from laughing so hard. Everyone on board was in good spirits, you couldn’t imagine it getting any better than this.

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine & mrsparkjimin18 2020-2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[aleator]

day 18 - bodyguard au (thor/tony)

Tony’s not used to people trying to kill him. Yeah, he’s a celebrity, but he’s a movie star. He doesn’t do the kinds of things that normally get people killed, even when he ends up starring in a fantastically bad film. But this is different. He’s due to testify in court for a trial that could put several important, big-name industry folks behind bars, and apparently that’s enough to get people trying to kill him.

He’d always thought having a bodyguard in his line of work was kind of cheesy, but there’s a first time for everything, apparently.

The guy he hires looks a little like a hippie but he comes with great recommendations, so Tony hopes those reviews are legit. It’s his life in this guy’s hands, after all. This guy’s very lovely, probably lethal hands. Tony shouldn’t be thinking about those hands as anything other than killing machines. But it’s hard. They’re nice hands.

At first it feels like he’s being followed around everywhere, which he is, so that makes sense. But it’s also really annoying. It’s like he’s hired someone to be his friend but neither of them actually want to be friends. His bodyguard, Thor, is a nice enough guy, but he’s painfully professional. He doesn’t even laugh at Tony’s hilarious jokes.

“Maybe your jokes just aren’t funny,” his agent, Pepper, says after he’s complained to her over the phone for fifteen minutes.

“Not true. They’re hilarious,” Tony reminds her. Even Pepper laughs at some of his jokes sometimes.

“If you hate having a bodyguard so much, why don’t you just go into witness protection or something?” Pepper suggests.

“I can’t do that, I’m in the middle of shooting a movie!” Tony protests. “You’re my agent, you know that.”

“I do know that,” she replies patiently. “But I’d rather you stop shooting a movie than someone shoot you. It’ll be hard to be your agent if you’re dead.”

“Probably wouldn’t stop you.”

“Nobody would blame you if you didn’t turn up to the charity dinner,” she says, which is probably the first time she’s ever told him not to go to an event. “You already donated the money, so we can still publicize that.”

“I’m not going to skip the charity dinner. That’s my first public appearance in weeks.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to have fun bringing your new bodyguard as your plus one.”

Tony sighs and realizes that yes, he’ll probably be stuck with just Thor as his dinner date. But at least he’ll get to be out and about having fun instead of hiding in his home.

At the dinner, people only want to ask him about the attempt on his life. Which sounds exciting, but most of what Tony remembers is the soft sound of a bullet whizzing by and then someone throwing him down onto the ground. It’s not very interesting to talk about. But society types can gossip about anything indefinitely, so he mostly just sits there and lets them prattle on while he nods occasionally.

Eventually he manages to escape and sneaks over to the bar to get himself something stronger than the champagne that came with dinner. As he’s nursing a whiskey a voice behind him says,

“If you want to leave, you can pretend I made you go.”

He startles, embarrassingly so, nearly spilling his drink. “Jeez, you can’t scare a guy who’s got professional killers after him like that!”

Thor steps out from behind him so Tony can see him, looking faintly amused. “My apologies. I thought you knew I was there.”

“Well I did not. Because you are strangely light on your feet for someone so…”

Thor smiles politely at him while he tries to think of a way to finish that sentence, and when he doesn’t come up with anything Thor just carries on with the conversation.

“I mean it, if you’d like to go. I can declare something a security risk,” Thor offers. “So you can save face or whatever you’re worried about.”

It’s a strangely observant and sweet offer, and Tony stares at him. Long enough that Thor shrugs and adds,

“Or not.”

“No! No, actually, that’d be great,” Tony finally says, knocking back the rest of his whiskey in one go and setting aside the glass on the bar so he can stand up. “Uh, oh no, I feel unsafe here in this public location. Bodyguard, help.”

And finally, for the first time, Thor laughs. Actually laughs at some dumb joke that Tony made. Thor’s smile widens as he laughs and Tony just about melts at the sight of it.

After that, Thor starts to soften. He smiles more, laughs at a few more of Tony’s jokes, and Tony feels less weird about having him around. He takes Thor with him whenever he goes out, but nothing perilous ever happens, so he starts to wonder if hiring a bodyguard was just going overboard. Maybe everything will be totally fine…

...were always famous last words.

The bastards try to get him one night as he’s coming out of a crowded nightclub. Nothing looks out of the ordinary to him, but as he’s waiting for someone to pull his car around he’s suddenly being pushed down to the ground. He yelps in alarm until he realizes it’s just Thor, then he shouts again more urgently as he sees blood on him.

The crowd is running and yelling, panicked, and people are trying to dive for cover or call emergency services. Thor is still draped over him, shielding him with his body, but Tony thinks that might be because he’s incapable of moving.

“Thor? Holy shit, Thor,” Tony says with increasing intensity as he shakes Thor’s shoulder. “Hey, buddy! Don’t do this to me.”

At some point in all the commotion the EMTs and cops appear on the scene, sirens blaring, and Tony and Thor are carted away in an ambulance. Tony keeps insisting that he’s fine, they need to worry about Thor, forget about him. Nobody listened, of course, and they ended up taking him to his own hospital room no matter how many times he insisted the blood on his suit wasn’t from him.

They check him over thoroughly, even though Tony’s antsy and restless. He keeps asking about Thor, but they only give him vague answers no matter how many demands he makes. What’s the point of being a famous movie star if nobody’s so awestruck at your presence they listen to everything you say?

Eventually they declare him fit to be released, which he could have told them from the start, and he immediately demands to see Thor. He apparently can’t even do that so he’s stuck waiting even more, feeling sick to his stomach.

He falls asleep in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs at some point. Pepper had arrived at the hospital sometime earlier, panicking even more than Tony had, insisting he should have gone into witness protection for real and that she’s canceling every plan of his until this trial is over, but she must have taken a Valium or something because she dozes off in the chair next to him eventually too.

Finally a doctor approaches them to let Tony know that Thor is stable and has requested to see him, which they’ll allow as long as he doesn’t excite Thor too much. Tony is up on his feet in a flash, following the doctor to Thor’s hospital room.

Thor is awake and sitting up in bed, which is a good sign. Tony awkwardly enters the room, hands clasped behind his back.

“The bullet didn’t hit any major organs,” Thor offers when Tony doesn’t say anything right away.

“What about minor organs?” Tony asks.

Thor laughs, but he immediately winces and clutches at his side as the action pulls on his stitches. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“Sorry,” Tony says, finally taking a seat in the chair beside Thor’s bed. He debates what to say for a few moments longer, then blurts out,

“I never would’ve hired a bodyguard if I’d thought they would actually die.”

Thor gives him an amused look. “Unfortunately for you, it turns out I happen to like you.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony points out, “You had to do that, I’m paying you.”

“To take a bullet for you? You’re not paying me that much.”

“Oh. Should I be?”

Thor laughs weakly again, settling back against his pillows with a weary sigh. “I did not take the bullet for the money, Stark.”

Finally it starts to click in Tony’s head, and he scoots his chair a little closer, cautiously reaching for Thor’s hand. Thor lets him take it, and they hold hands on the hospital bed.

“You’re okay?” Thor asks, trying to look Tony over without either of them moving.

“Yeah,” Tony says with a warm smile. “Thanks to you.”

[thelastpilot]

Tell Me So I Understand- Adrino Fic Request

This is one of my finished commissions for the amazing charity even @mlbforblm with a 4k fic commissioned under the request for ‘Adrien/Nino hurt comfort’. If you would like to comission something from me as well before this event concludes please go here to check out my slots! Please donate to this great cause and get a fic from yours truly.~~

----

The cool metal of the railing grounded him to the space, reminding him of where he was as he struggled to remain present. Nino took a deep breath, the frigid air making him shiver slightly. The balcony on which he hid was abandoned for the most part, one couple huddled together many yards away as they finished discussing something private. Neither of these people took any notice of him, the woman’s presumably lovely but insufficient dress for the cold forcing the pair to hurry back inside. They had likely been hoping for privacy, but it seemed only Nino’s turmoil was sufficient enough cause to stay in the bitter cold, ruminating.

He attempted to straighten his spine, standing tall as his hands pulled weakly at his tie, trying to let him breathe. He shuddered again as a cold breeze bit through his suit jacket, reminding him of its expensive weight paired with expensive shoes paired with expensive bullshit on this lifeless marble balcony-

He closed his eyes, forcing that spiraling thought down and trying to relax, but he couldn’t stop himself from pulling at the tie.

It had been unbalanced for almost the entire event, Nino noticing too late that it was askew and silently panicking over how long it had been that way. It was a small infraction but… depending on who you asked,

So was he.

His urgent hands stilled as they gave up on the mess they had made, falling forward to grip the ice cold railing again.

 This was his first big event.

He had expected it to be taxing, he’d been bracing himself for it all month but he knew how much it meant to Adrien to do this together. Adrien himself had sworn off big galas and publicity junkets like this almost entirely after he turned 18, but every once in a while he’d put in an appearance at some big soiree and do his thing, if only for Gabriel.

This was the first event Adrien had planned to attend since the two of them had made their relationship public to the press. He had been so excited to attend it as a couple.

Now Nino had essentially abandoned him to the wave of rich folks with their petty shallow conversations and was on the verge of some kind of panic alone behind the first unlocked door he had found.

It had hit him out of nowhere… he hadn’t expected to be comfortable, fancy events were never really his thing and he had always felt out of place in formal spaces. However the more nervous he became the more he felt he was messing up every interaction he had. Despite Adrien’s best efforts they were routinely separated, and every time they were apart Nino would flounder along the edges of the party, hoping no one would talk to him. He was a pretty sociable guy but there were just so many people he didn’t know how to talk to. And in the end he had nothing to say.

When someone who probably had a mutli-million dollar net worth pointed out his tie was messed up it had really seemed like she was just being nice, wanting to let him know to save him the embarrassment, but it had just been the final straw. Now he was totally unpresentable, having made the problem worse as he routinely did.

 Nino slumped against the railing, letting his face fall in his hands as he tried his best to get a grip… the cold, emotionless marble all around him left him in peace, even if the sudden swell of party noise did not.

The glass door clicking shut sent a spike of nerves up his back and he quickly reached for his tie, resolved to just rip if off when he heard a chilling, familiar voice.

“I hope you realize that’s one of kind. If you just throw it over the edge, I won’t be replacing it.”

 Nino paused, taking a long, calculated breath. He couldn’t help the wash of anger that crept up on him in this vulnerable moment, but he used the freezing air around him to push it down, turning to regard the man who had found him.

 Gabriel Agreste did not seem to notice the cold, standing as firmly and distantly as Nino had always known him to be. He was wearing unusually dark colors, his tux looking more appropriate for mourning then it did for a large charity event, but perhaps that was just apart of his newest theme. The suits he had tailored made for himself and Adrien were similar, though thankfully not identical. He approached slowly, drinking methodically from a tall glass.

Nino took a moment to decide how he wanted to handle this, before deciding after a time to just slouch against the railing, allowing his irritation to show on his face.

“What do you need,” Nino muttered, unwilling to engage in the careful politeness they usually maintained. He couldn’t honestly say he had had a deliberately unpleasant experience with Gabriel in some time now, but at this moment… he just didn’t have the energy.

Gabriel didn’t answer, his professional eye glancing over him and sending another wash of anger through him, analyzing him like every other fucking person he had met tonight. It was a shock however when Gabriel stepped forward, coming towards him without another comment just yet, like he didn’t feel the need for one.

Nino tensed in confusion and discomfort as Gabriel set his glass down and abruptly reached for the mess he had made of his tie, ignoring the way Nino backed up against the railing to make as much distance as he could. All Nino managed at first was an uncomfortable huff, but Gabriel hadn’t asked permission and he didn’t ask for any to continue. The cold, emotionless man just started fixing it, ignoring Nino’s rampant confusion.

They were dead silent as Gabriel fixed his tie, the older man just resolving the issue without comment or explanation. By the time he was done the tie was affixed perfectly in its place, but it was clear the young man wearing it was extremely uncomfortable still.

They waited, Gabriel taking a step away and looking out over the railing, the distant view of Paris at night their only commentary for a while.

It was still. And it was cold.

And it was quiet.

 Nino didn’t move for a while, eventually shifting uncomfortably until he was looking out over the vista as well, a good five or six feet between them now.

Nino’s mind was racing over what to do, before a subtle shift interrupted his panicked thinking. He looked over just as Gabriel turned slightly to regard him.

“My son is looking for you.”

“Hm,” Nino replied, looking away. He fidgeted slightly, and said nothing else.

“He’s making a bit of a scene, people are starting to notice.”

Nino couldn’t contain his irritation at that, shooting Gabriel a dark look as he said, “Am I expected to apologize for that?”

“I would have thought you might,” Gabriel said coldly, looking away from him and out over the city. He paused for a beat before his tone shifted. “You accuse me of managing his image,” his voice fell into a near accusation, “You seem far more concerned with it than I am.”

“What does that mean,” Nino hissed at him, finally straightening and facing him fully, but Gabriel seemed unperturbed. He just continued to admire the view.

“It means if you weren’t so obsessed with how your presence affected his reputation you wouldn’t have ran away.” Gabriel turned slowly, fixing him in place with one cold, ice blue eye. “Hypocritical of you, seeing as my son largely holds it against me for asserting that same thing once.”

Nino didn’t manage to retort right away, a hot, angry feeling restricting his chest as he stared him down. He knew his hands were shaking, but as he grappled with the pit of anxiety that clawed through years’ worth of protective anger, he couldn’t know for sure why.

“Don’t act like you know me, you don’t know shit about me.”

“I know about people. It’s my business,” Gabriel stated firmly, looking off into the distance again as if Nino was barely there. “I’ve built a lot around understanding fundamental weaknesses in character. And if you think a man whose built his company around insecurities can’t identify one at a glance then you’re a fool.”

“So you’re a cold blooded monster. I get the picture.”

Nino half expected an evil chuckle or something else cliché from him at this point, but he was surprised to see the man pause and reach for his glass. When he finally spoke… his tone was cold, and bitter.

“I would have thought my son had already told you as much.”

Silence lapsed suddenly, Gabriel’s passive sentiment hanging between them as Nino tried to unpack what that meant. However, there was too much there, the older man continuing to drink silently.

Nino didn’t have anything to say, unsure of what to make of the cards Gabriel was playing. Was he aiming for pity? Like Nino should somehow feel bad about the relationship he had with his son? That didn’t seem right…

One hand drifted to his fixed tie, wondering what any of this was for.

“Do you have a point here Gabe? Or are you just adding vague upsetting dialogue to my breakdown tonight?” Nino pushed the words out firmly, knowing he had to stand his ground with this guy. His casual nickname annoyed him about as much as he had hoped, Gabriel suddenly looking stiff, but not addressing it.

“My point,” he finally spoke, “is that you’re as transparent as you can be. You’re insecure, you’re out of place. You don’t belong here and it makes you seem weak, anyone in that room can tell that much just from looking at you.” Gabriel turned, his expression completely unreadable. “You don’t think you deserve to be here with him.”

Nino didn’t flinch, clenching his fists tighter as he swallowed down all the dark, twisted crap he was feeling. He refused to waver, even if he was sinking he wasn’t going to let that show.

“Well isn’t that just everything you ever wanted,” Nino spat at him harshly, “isn’t it nice to know you were right.”

To his surprise, Gabriel was quiet.

Nino stood there, steadfast. Even if he didn’t know what to do with all the shit in his head, this was a threat he knew how to handle. But despite what he expected, Gabriel didn’t fire back. He waited, and finished his drink, setting it down with a quiet clink of glass against marble.

Gabriel straightened, standing as tall and as unbeatable as he always had. And yet he didn’t look him in the eye.

“I realized too late that what I think doesn’t matter.”

When he finally met Nino’s gaze, what he saw was a young man who was completely unprepared for what he was hearing. He still saw all those insecurities, woven into him and impacting every single thing he said and did. He had spotted them the first time they had met, seen them below the surface every day since. Nino didn’t even attempt to deny it, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that Gabriel understood what he thought didn’t matter anymore.

“You’re a hypocrite, and a fool,” Gabriel finally surmised plainly, “You openly accept the same things my son held against me.  What I think of you doesn’t matter, what my son thinks of you does. Is that not what he always insisted?”

Nino waited… his steadfast posture loosening in his uncertainty, because- this wasn’t going… how he thought it would.

“… I didn’t think you really understood that.”

“It appears I wasn’t the only one.”

 Nino was dumbstruck, completely disarmed in less than a sentence. The frigid air between them kept them separated, like winter in Paris somehow understood there would always be this immeasurable gap between these two people. Somehow though they occupied the same space, revealing them both for a moment. And he didn’t understand what he saw.

A man who had lost a lot because of his own actions. Naively, perhaps, he had always assumed Gabriel was oblivious to that.

Gabriel Agreste began to step away, pacing around him and abandoning his glass to chill out on the marble railing alone. He was shoulder to shoulder with him when Nino finally spoke, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to stop.

“Wait- wait. Gabriel wh-,” he hesitated, conflicted about this but knowing he was exposed no matter what he did. He saw right through him.

Nino looked away from him and said, “What if you were right? What if… what if I’m not good enough?”

Gabriel paused, turning his face slightly to regard something, before looking back towards Nino. “I believe my son would have a lot to say on the subject.”

Nino frowned, confused for only a moment before Gabriel excused himself without ceremony or further comment. He stepped away and left him there, and it was only when Nino turned to follow his movement that he saw the illuminated doorway occupied by a still, silent silhouette.

Nino felt his heart falter before it sank deep into the pit of his stomach, the freezing cold of the night occurring to him for the first time in a while. It was inescapable now, chilling him to the bone as he watched Gabriel cross the space, passing by his son without feeling the need to address him. He just left them to survive one another, vanishing into the light and the sounds of the long-neglected venue.

It was quiet, the thrum of the party the only commentary. It faded and dulled as Adrien slowly closed the door, letting it shut without a sound and sealing them away in the private space.

Nino’s hands were shaking, and he knew perfectly why now; there was no anger left to compete for his confusion. He breath became uneven as Adrien stepped forward, coming towards him slowly but falling short with a sizable distance left between them.

The expression on his face was completely unreadable, set firmly in place as he stood there and said nothing. All Nino could hear now was his heart, and his breathing, the tempos erratic and out of sync.

“A-Adrien,” he finally managed, his hands anxiously fumbling with his cuffs. He let out a nervous laugh, unable to look away from his face. “L-look I don’t really know how much of that you heard, but I-,”

“I’ve been looking for you for half an hour,” Adrien spoke flatly, something just below the surface of his tone. “I called you a million times.”

Nino’s hand twitched towards his pocket, another uneasy laugh slipping out. “It must have died…,” he lied.

There was silence, for a while.

“I- I was-… Nino,” Adrien let his name out in a rush, like a gasp almost, and his unreadable expression cracked just a bit into endless guilt, “I came out here so ready to apologize and take you out of here, I was ready to say sorry for dragging you here and making such a big deal out of this even though I knew it made you uncomfortable. I knew you were having a horrible time I knew you hated it but I didn’t- I-,” he stopped again. Adrien looked away, staring down at the cold marble like he needed the distance, and to Nino’s horror he saw his shoulders shake as his hands balled into fists. “I thought you hated fancy parties, I thought you hated formal events. I thought you hated the people and the posturing and everything else I didn’t think-,” he stilled, and looked up. And the look on his face broke his heart.

“Nino is any of what you just said true? Please…,” and his voice cracked, “Please tell me you don’t really believe anything you just said…”

 The space between them felt like miles to him, Nino pouring over the details of Adrien’s face before he couldn’t stand it and he just looked away. His hands curled together without his permission and he didn’t know what to say… he didn’t even know if it was true.

Gabriel had put it in his head but they both knew he was right, everything Nino thought throughout the whole wretched night came back to this one idea. That everyone in the room knew who Adrien was, everyone wanted the gossip on his newest announcement. Everyone wanted to see who was so important that Adrien Agreste had stepped away from the spotlight.

Everyone wanted to see if he was worth it.

And he didn’t know the answer…

 His hands shook only once more, the cold only touching him for another, long, weighted moment. When suddenly he felt something warm and urgent and nearly angry push against his chest, forcing him three steps back.

He was backed up against the railing in a second as Adrien reached for his face, tilting his face and kissing him suddenly, so urgent and quick that it was only Adrien’s strength that kept them both from slipping. Nino let out a gasp of surprise but Adrien took it from him, him mind going blank as he kissed him again, only some corner of his mind registering the distant smash of glass as Gabriel’s abandoned drink tumbled away from them both a long ways down. He fell with it, in a way, only Adrien enough to keep him from breaking into pieces.

He fumbled for something to hold, loosely gripping at Adrien’s jacket as the contact went on, his fingers limp after a while, his thoughts unfocused.

He had no idea how long it went on for, but by the time they were done they were both panting unevenly. Adrien did not leave his space, planting his hands on either side of him on the railing to steady himself. Nino held on to him for much the same reason, his chin tucked into Adrien’s shoulder as they caught their breath.

“I-,” Adrien spoke unevenly, his voice heavy, “I have something… to say.”

“Are you going to say it like that? You can, if you want to,” Nino answered, his chuckle breathy as he struggled to ground himself.

“This is important,” was his only response to his joke, the man moving so that he could force him to look up, the two of them standing face to face.

Nino looked at him again, so close up now that he could see so much behind what he had interpreted as unreadable. It was angry, and guilty, and heartbroken; it was loving, and soft, and urgent, and desperate.

“I have something to say, and I want you to understand it. I- I need you to get this. And if you don’t, I’ll say it again.” His eyes drifted all over his face, holding himself in that intimate space.

“You’re the most important thing that has ever happened to me. The most… critical, and precious thing I have ever had. What you say, and what you think means everything to me, and that’s all. That’s it, I can survive everything else, I can put everything else aside Nino.” He looked him in the eyes, searching his face like he was desperate to be clear. “You are the only unquestionable thing to me, having you with me and knowing that I can be apart of your life is all that counts. I don’t care what they think!” he nearly shouted it, gesturing behind them to things Nino couldn’t even see anymore, only focused on his face. “I don’t care what he thinks, I care what you think, and what you believe. And if you can honestly try and tell me that you- you shouldn’t… that you can’t be- be seen with me I-…” he faltered, his head tilting down and shaking slightly like he didn’t understand. Nino tried to speak but Adrien continued, taking a deep breath and trying to steel himself. “I don’t get it, I don’t understand it. I can’t see it at all and that makes it so hard to come at because I just don’t see where you’re coming from. Please Nino,” he straightened up, looking at him again, “please explain it to me so I can understand. Tell me how it makes sense because I don’t understand. What did you mean when you said ‘What if I’m not good enough,’ what did that mean? Was that him? Was that him trying to get in your head?”

“No, no no no, I-,” Nino faltered, looking down so he could breath. Adrien’s hands were cold from the marble when he reached up to cup his face. When he tried to tilt his face up Nino resisted, moving a hand to hold on to his and leaning into it. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry-,”

“Don’t apologize. Just tell me so I can understand.”

“I don’t know!” Nino finally forced out, shutting his eyes and gripping his hand tighter. For a moment Adrien thought he was going to tear it away, but he just clung to him. “I don’t know, I’m just being stupid, I don’t know how I meant it. But every headlines saying it, every fucking tabloid post all the gossip Adrien its not like you couldn’t hear it,” he moved his other hand to pull a wad of Adrien’s jacket into a fist, hanging on. “I kept pretending like it wasn’t getting to me what was I supposed to say?” he continued wretchedly, finally looking up at his boyfriend and aware of the pain on his face. “How was I supposed to tell you that I didn’t get it either. That every crapshoot paparazzi asking who was so important and I just- I didn’t know. I just felt lucky that you loved me but I didn’t know the answer to all that shit, whose so important, I don’t know either. I don’t get it, I don’t get any of this! I don’t know where to stand or who to talk to or how to look,” he whispered, gesturing to his tie again though it hardly mattered anymore. As the words fell out of him he lost steam and urgency, leaning down until his forehead was against Adrien’s shoulder. His boyfriend responded immediately, holding him tightly.

“I’m sorry…,” Nino finally apologized anyways, keeping his eyes shut and trying to focus on only them. “I should have just told you I was way too far out of my comfort zone… I knew how much this meant to you and I blew it… I wanted people to see us together. But then everyone did and they were asking who I was, and I’m not any-,”

“Don’t,” Adrien cut him off, saying it so suddenly and firmly that Nino immediately fell quiet, pulling back to look up at him. “Don’t say that.”

When he pulled back to stand face to face with him again he saw all of the same things he had seen in him before, but among those feelings now he saw disbelief.

“Don’t talk to me like you’re no one, I can’t stand it Nino… I can’t. You just have no idea…,”

Nino hesitated, wanting to look away again, but not resisting when Adrien reached up to stop him. “No idea about what…,”

“No idea about you,” he answered, and the way he said it, the way he looked at him…

 It was like he was everything.

 When Adrien kissed him again Nino was instantly breathless, clinging to him as Adrien pushed him back. It was like he was trying to speak, taking Nino’s advice and trying to tell him everything he needed to say in a kiss.

His thumb slid over his cheek and Adrien kissed him again, and again, trying as many times as he could to get it all across. How do you tell someone that they’re everything to you? How do you tell someone who doubts and wavers that there are some things that are just fact… indisputable, undeniable facts?

I love you.

I know.

I love you.

I know…

  I love you… I love you.

I know... I know... I love you too.