#i wanna be able to do things without being bedridden for the rest of the day 😭😭😭😭 please 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[orcelito]

Omfg I never actually posted about this but just like 2 days ago I realized that no it is Not normal to experience lightheadedness near daily when I've gone just a little too long without eating

I looked it up and apparently lightheadedness/dizziness CAN be a part of fibromyalgia (which I think I have for a number of different reasons), so like. It all makes sense.

Fuckin fibromyalgia. It's the source of like 95% of my physical problems, I swear. Every Damn Thing can be traced back to it. What a pain.

[therealvinelle]

I know this is like taking a bat to the beehive but... I really wanna hear your opinions on the whole... Imprinting thing

(Note before we go any further: this meta is written purely about the shapeshifting aspect of the Quileute characters, I don’t at all get into the racism in Twilight or any kind of social commentary. This is a purely watsonian meta. Others in this fandom have already addressed the racial dynamics at play, far more eloquently and knowledgeably than me. If I say something in here that’s in any way offensive, that’s not my intention and I’m open to criticism.)

Ooh imprinting.

I touch upon it here, basically I hate it.

The imprinting is part of this theme where the shapeshifters lose their free will and autonomy, and I find it tragic, cruel, and unnecessary.

First of, the fact that they have to phase at all.

They’re made warriors to protect their tribe. There’s no choice involved, only genetics and magic irrevocably changing their lives, and at a ridiculously young age, too. Sam is the oldest of them, and he is 19.

Violence is an inherent part of what they become. Their purpose is to protect the tribe, by fighting vampires. Not only is this insanely dangerous (we see Jake get so injured by a single vampire that he’s bedridden for weeks), but if they succeed, they will have killed. In the singularly brutal manner of tearing apart and burning someone who looks a lot like a human, who talks and might beg for their life, at that. And I remind you, most of these shapeshifters are literal children. They might not see vampires as people, but all the same, killing one can’t be good for their mental wellbeing. (Thought: Perhaps an argument can be made for Laurent’s death having a part in the turn Jake’s personality took? Some, though not many, of the symptoms for PTSD do fit. I don’t know enough about PTSD to pursue this train of thought, but it occurred to me just now, in particular he becomes quite aggressive and prone to outbursts after that incident, so into a parenthesis it goes)

Not to mention how inhumane that responsibility is. Vampires in the Twilight-verse are terrifying, and the shapeshifters might have the power to fight them. But (and this is where I plug one of my all-time favorite animes, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, as it asks the question “Is it okay to sacrifice yourself for others?” because that’s... well there’s a parallel to be made to the shapeshifters. It’s on Netflix!) does that mean they should? Is it really their responsibility? Again- they’re kids!

Then there’s the time Sam lost control, and accidentally mauled the girl he loved. And it’s so cruel to both him and Emily. Sam never chose to have to control himself in the first place, he never chose shapeshifting. He didn’t choose to imprint on Emily either, and he didn’t choose to lose control that day. At no point in the series of events that led to Emily being mauled did Sam have any real choice, and yet he will shoulder the guilt for what happened for the rest of his life.

These kids get superpowers, and several of them seem to enjoy being shapeshifters, but the fact remains that they now carry this huge responsibility to protect their families and homes, doing so is incredibly dangerous, they lose out on their regular lives, and they can’t opt out of it.

This all sucks, but then we get to the fact that they are deprived of their free will, as their alpha can issue an order they physically can’t break. The alpha becomes alpha because of bloodlines, not because of a democratic election. Jake got a mockery of a choice in that he could choose to become alpha himself, or let Sam continue, which was really just choosing between a rock and a hard place. There is no limitation to what this order can be, from “don’t say X to person Y” to “let’s kill someone you love”. Jake has to struggle to break that last one, and he’s only successful because of the bloodline thing letting him become his own alpha.

Oh, and there’s the massive invasion of privacy when they have a hive mind. Cool concept, less cool to have it be reality. Leah is the poster child for how a hive mind can backfire, and they can’t opt out of this.

I’m not good at gifs, but the shapeshifters just make me think of that gif of someone flicking a lightswitch on and off, “WELCOME TO HELL!”. Of course, Twilight in general is a pit of despair for everybody, so I suppose that gif really is... well it sums up all of canon.

So, we have these kids aged 19 or younger, as of Breaking Dawn they skew as young as thirteen, their lives are turned upside down by something they can’t opt out of, they must shoulder this huge responsibility to protect their homes and families from the terrifying threat of vampires, and on top of all of that, they must obey orders that are so irresistible, they can compel them to harm someone they care for.

With all of that in mind, you’d think that the shapeshifters had enough on their plate. That through all of this they would at least retain their selves, and be able to look forward to a future where they could stop phasing, and go on to live normal, human, lives.

Yeah, NOT IF THEY IMPRINT.

I’ll just quote Jake’s description:

Everything inside me came undone as I stared at the tiny porcelain face of the halfvampire, half-human baby. All the lines that held me to my life were sliced apart in swift cuts, like clipping the strings to a bunch of balloons. Everything that made me who I was—my love for the dead girl upstairs, my love for my father, my loyalty to my new pack, the love for my other brothers, my hatred for my enemies, my home, my name, my self—disconnected from me in that second—snip, snip, snip—and floated up into space. 

I was not left drifting. A new string held me where I was. 

Not one string, but a million. Not strings, but steel cables. A million steel cables all tying me to one thing—to the very center of the universe. 

I could see that now—how the universe swirled around this one point. I’d never seen the symmetry of the universe before, but now it was plain. 

The gravity of the earth no longer tied me to the place where I stood. (Breaking Dawn, page 237)

Everything that made me who I was disconnected from me.

Jake’s love for his father, his home, his very own self, it’s all gone now. And while I have thoughts on the authenticity of this imprint, whether it was organic, the description above is apparently how imprinting feels. It’s along the lines of what Sam, Jared, and Paul all describe.

I don’t think I can put into words just how devastating I find imprinting, I think the above quotation speaks for itself. And as with all other shapeshifter things, there is no choice involved.

We see its devastating effects in the Emily, Sam, and Leah debacle. Sam and Leah were serious together, so much so that they were engaged. Sam had fallen for and chosen to be with Leah. Perhaps they would have broken up eventually, but Leah was still the choice he made. Then he imprints on Emily, and all that is for naught. He had to break up with Leah, who if she hadn’t phased never would have learned why, Emily and Leah’s relationship is ruined, and Emily must forever live with the knowledge that if Sam had his free will intact he would be with another woman.

Then there’s Jared and Kim. Kim crushed on Jared, but Jared never noticed her. The fact that they were in the same class is damning: if a boy is attracted to a girl, he's gonna notice her. Jared never did.

Quil imprints on Claire, who is a toddler. That’s just a recipe for misery and disaster all around.

And I’ve only touched the shapeshifter side of things. They lose their autonomy and freedom, but the imprintées draw the short straw too. They’re now responsible for this other person’s happiness. Sure, having someone who’ll be whatever you need them to be sounds nice (well, it sounds horrifying, but I’m playing ball) on paper, but you can’t opt out of them being like that. The imprintée can’t say “Sorry, not interested,” and she certainly can’t shut the imprinter out of her life, not without irrevocably ruining the imprinter’s life. The imprinter needs her. She’s the center of his earth now, but she didn’t choose to be.

Imprinting is a liferuiner for everyone involved.

Then we have the question of what imprinting is even for. I’m afraid I agree with Billy, that it’s for procreation. We see Sam, who was dating a woman about to phase (even if Leah isn’t infertile, she’s a warrior now. She can’t run in the woods and fight vampires, and gestate and nurse a child at the same time) conveniently imprint on her cousin, who as cousin to Leah is from a shifter bloodline. Claire, as Emily’s cousin, has those same genetics. Paul imprints on a woman from the Black family line. Jake is the outlier, but either Renesmée’s gift helped that imprinting along, or he imprinted because of the offspring they could potentially have (I firmly believe it’s the former because the latter... NOPE. Also, I can’t imagine whatever magic drives imprinting would want vampiric progeny for the future generations. Regardless of Renesmée’s person, her biology is wired to desire human blood. That’s exactly what Jake is supposed to protect people from. Bad match.).

I just.... ughhh. God, I hate imprinting so much, and on every level.

To me, everything about the shapeshifters is about free will, autonomy, and the loss thereof. And it would have been beautiful if their story was about reclaiming that, but it isn’t. None of this, with the exception of the alpha orders, is even acknowledged.

So, in summation, yes I hate imprinting, but it’s only the horror cherry on top of a very sad and problematic cake.

[tender-rosiey]

ooooh! requests are open, yay!

could i request headcanons of dazai taking care of you when you're sick? i have a fever right now and i feel like this would be the best request for me to submit, bahahaha

❥ Dazai taking care of sick s/o

ᴀ/ɴ: *cracks knuckles* well isn’t this convenient, I was sick just last week so now I shall indulge myself in this piece; hope you like it 💘

Life sucked

Sole proof of that is your bedridden self surrounded by tissues and trash cans as well as empty medicine bottles

You weakly sat up, hand reaching out for the packet beside you only to find out that it was empty

You collapsed back into the bed thinking about how much life hated you right now instantly regretting it by the following headache that came because of said action

But then another headache followed it and it was quite the big one

“Belladonna~!”

It was named Dazai

The very man that let you play like an idiot in the rain and just danced with you outside without the slightest warning that you might be sick the past night

Okay that might be a lie he did warn you once

“Y/N, my love, if you go out right now you will get sick so how about— okay nevermind I can’t say no to you; LETS GO!”

But his resolve might have been a little too weak

You are still wondering how he didn’t get sick as well, guess life has favorites

Perhaps he didn’t hold you back on purpose so he can take care of you (or because he has a weak will when it comes to you), but you were just a little worried since he would be the one responsible for cooking and you really didn’t have a death wish today

“My my, you look miserable but still good enough for me.”

“Wow thanks, babe.”

“Anyways, I got the medicine so you can feel better as well as free cuddles from me, your one and only!”

And just like he said, when he went out it was for the medicine and for some reason he got every medicine for a fever he could find and the excuse was “you never know what might be lying deep inside a simple fever”

And he is not wrong so we will give him that

Now, he made you some chicken soup and for once followed the damn recipe so you were able to avoid being poisoned today horray ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

He insisted on feeding you too

“Belladonna say ahh~”

If the fever is making you lose your appetite then he will gently try to convince you to eat even the slightest bit so you can take your medicine

“Osamu, I can’t; I don’t wanna eat~”

“I know, love; just please this one spoon, you need to eat proper food so your body can gain nutrients.”

He gently held you close to his side after making you sit up slowly again, comfortingly rubbing your arm as he gave you the medicine

After every dose he would give you a soft kiss on the forehead or shoulder, that’s a m u s t; he is proud of you for being able to endure this so naturally you need a reward

And in the time you were sleeping to rest your body in order to achieve your full recovery, he took the liberty upon himself and cleaned the tissue filled room so the bacteria doesn’t spread furthermore

“When they said life would gift you, I did not expect snot to be one of those gifts. The things I do for my belladonna *insert a very very dramatic sigh*”

Now dazai isn’t dumb, he just acts like it

But I mentioned that cause that idiot (affectionate) will keep smothering you in cuddles and kisses so it can ‘help’ you get better quicker

Despite knowing full well his dumbass (derogatory) might get sick instead and you guys will miss yet another day of work and kunikida will scold you both for your childish antics and not being able to take of yourselves for the single moment he is away

He is probably intentionally trying to get sick at this point

“It quite saddens me seeing you sick like this, my love; so, please take care of yourself more in the future and I will be here to watch over you.”

“Osamu, you allowed me to go in the rain at 2am.”

“We do not speak of that.”

He will stay by your side all day and won’t leave you even if you need to go to the toilet, who knows what might happen in that one second he isn’t there

Hell you could just pass out when you are in there

And he won’t sleep until you are alright and in full health

Like while you are resting he will check every 2 hours if your temperature has decreased and his heart will ache whenever he hears whimpers of pain from you and your heavy breathing as you try to soothe the pain you are feeling

As I said earlier, your cute self isn’t leaving his embrace and shall be cuddled until you are all well and healthy

But your healthy self then will have to take care of the all mighty dazai osamu who is now sick in bed

“Sorry, belladonna; I just can’t help but show you how much I love you even when you are sick ;p”

copyright © 2020 tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[one-boring-person]

Requested by: @80s4life

I hope you like this!😊💛

What I Did To You.

Snake Plissken (Escape From New York/LA) x reader

Warnings: violence, injury, swearing, gun use

Masterlist

I have my gun levelled at his head before I've even closed the door properly, my face drawn into a fierce scowl, eyes blazing with anger. Every muscle in my body goes tense, my hand unwavering as I hold the weapon up, my leg throbbing in memory pain. Across from me, the intruder remains stood silently, his eye fixed on mine, his own hand still resting at his hip, ready to draw his pistol at any point.

"Hello to you, too." He greets me in the quiet way he always used to, his lips barely moving.

Frown deepening, I push the door behind me closed without looking at it, keeping my gun aimed at his head as I look him over. Not for the first time, he's covered in a light layer of grime, his brown leather jacket darkened in places by the dirt and lightened in others by the fraying, his boots caked in dust from the wasteland outside. His golden mane of hair is slightly dulled from exposure to the unforgiving sun outside and falls into his eyepatch, flicked out of the way every so often by a jerk of the head. A shadow of a stubble covers his chin, as it always has, disguising a few new scars I've not seen before...as well as one I know very well. Other than that, Snake Plissken has not changed at all.

My eyes narrow, grip on the gun tightening.

"Leave." Is all I say, shifting my weight onto my other foot.

"You used to have such nice manners." Snake's lip curls, the soldier taking a step towards me.

Instantly, I flick my thumb over the flintlock.

"Leave." I repeat, pulling the hammer down as the gun makes a dull clicking sound.

"No." He moves closer, standing so the gun is inches from his chest.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here." I growl, oh so tempted to pull the trigger, "I don't know why you don't keep your distance."

A cruel smirk creeps onto his lips, eye narrowing as his head tilts to the side.

"Trust me, I didn't want to come here, either." He reassures me, "But I have no choice."

"I'm giving you a choice. Leave, or I'll introduce some lead into your diet." I retort, ignoring the burn in my arm from holding it outstretched. At this point, it's the only thing keeping us separated.

"I'll pass on both." Snake snorts, shooting a dismissive glance at the handgun pointed at his throat - now that he's standing closer, my aim only really comes up to his chest and neck, "Put the gun away."

I nearly laugh at him then, another surge of anger going through me.

"You're in no position to order me around. Not anymore." I practically snarl at him, keeping the gun where it is.

"Suit yourself. I came to ask for your help, the least you could do is be civil." He replies coldly, glaring at me now.

Again, the urge to laugh in his face goes through me.

"You came here to ask for my help?" I repeat, cocking my head in disbelief at the sheer balls of the man, "You really need to leave before I pull this trigger."

"(Y/n), we both know if you wanted me dead, I'd be bleeding out on the floor already." He points out, unimpressed.

"Maybe I'm waiting for an apology first."

This seems to catch him off guard.

"An apology?" He repeats, frowning in confusion, "For what?"

It takes all I have not to lunge at him and throttle the handsome bastard's neck in my hands, my leg flaring up in pain at the reminder.

"You know damn well what for." I growl at him, shifting off of my leg again, rubbing at it unconsciously.

Snake's eyes follow my movement, realisation dawning on him.

"I already apologised for that." He says quietly, clearly remembering back to the time I'm referring to.

It still plagues me, that one last operation we'd had to do together. Three years ago, back when we were still working together on jobs, good at what we did, the perfect partnership...except for Snake's tendency to protect his ego. It had been horrible that night, rain pelting the ground as we moved on the abandoned construction site, mud slicking our boots and trousers, foggy air making it impossible to see anywhere. I had told Snake we shouldn't go that day,  that it would be better to wait until another, clearer night, but he insisted on the raid. He'd told me that he'd "been in worse" and that this was nothing, so we took our guns, knives and other equipment, and headed out into the wastelands to deal with the threat.

At first, everything had been fine: we'd managed to get in with no problem, creeping around the perimeter, taking out guards as we went, bodies sodden and filthy now, freezing under our light jackets. It was only as we moved to go further into the site that disaster had struck. Suddenly, gunfire was tearing into the ground inches away from us, driving us back behind an old container box, flashes of light appearing in the milky fog around us, our vision obscured by the sheeting rain, the mud making it hard to retreat. We later found out we'd been ratted out to the terrorists occupying the site, and they'd set up a trap for us, hounding us from the place with rifles spewing bullets at us the entire way. We had been close to escaping.

Then I slipped on a landmine.

All of a sudden, I was flying forwards through the air, agony erupting in my left leg as the flash of light and flames exploded behind me, my body crashing to the floor seconds later. Winded and incapable of moving thanks to the pain lancing through me from my leg, I had screamed out to Snake, hoping for him to return to me, the smell of burning flesh soon flooding my nostrils as my foot caught in the blaze. Howling in agony, I had tried to pull myself out, my fingers scrabbling at the slick mud in desperation, only for the pain to become too overbearing. I had looked for Snake, only to see the back of his head disappearing towards our getaway vehicle, paying no mind to me. It was then that I blacked out, my heart drowning in betrayal and hurt.

For a week or so, I'd been held captive by the terrorists, tortured sometimes, my wounds left to fester, bones shattered and out of place, burns turning ugly over the time. Eventually, another team had been sent in to rescue me, the group getting me out before it got too far. Taken to a hospital, it took me weeks to recover, every muscle and bone in my left leg needing to be reformed almost completely, surgeries being done near-daily to realign them all, the skin basically unsalvageable. I'd had four different skin grafts from various parts of my body, only to leave the limb looking twisted and mangled, basically useless to me until I was encouraged to learn how to use it again. That entailed another half a year of time spent working on getting it to full use again, and even now I can't go nearly as far as I used to. Every so often, the leg throbs, memory pain still hounding me since the day I got the wounds themselves, but I suppose I got off lucky: the surgeons hadn't expected me to make it through.

All of that because of Snake's ego.

His apology? A note sent to me whilst I was unconscious in the hospital.

"You and I have a very idea of what an apology is. Especially for something that kept me bedridden for months." I bite out, heart aching now at the memory, "Especially for someone who left me to die."

Snake purses his lips, swallowing tightly.

"I thought you did die." He says, much quieter now, eye roaming my body guiltily.

"You heard my screams. There's no way you didn't." I reply harshly, reminded again of the raw-throated shrieks for help.

He winces, looking down at his feet now, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I didn't think you'd make it. If I went back, I wouldn't have gotten out." He murmurs, sounding somewhat saddened by what he's saying.

"You wanna know how long it took those fuckers to get to me? Fifteen minutes. Fifteen! There was more than enough time!" I spit at him, face twisted in anger.

Once again, he winces at my words, only now realising the extent of what he did.

"And even when you knew I was alive, when I was in hospital, you couldn't even be asked to come and apologise in person. You sent a damn note." I shake my head, looking at him in disgust, "You're a coward. A spineless coward. Why didn't you at least show your face? Why? Why did you leave me to face the pain on my own?"

"Because I couldn't face it! I couldn't face seeing you there, lying in a hospital bed, all doped up, cut-up and bruised because of me! I couldn't face seeing you nearly crippled because of my stupid fucking pride!" Snake finally snaps, voice strained as his eye returns to my face, pain clouding the blue depth, "I thought I got you killed, (Y/n)! I could barely live with myself because of it!"

"Then why wait until now to find me? Why not come sooner?" I question, voice tense.

"I didn't think I'd be able to face you so angry and upset. I cared - care - so much about you, (Y/n), you have no idea how hard this is for me. I've lived with this guilt for so long." He fumbles for words, unable to voice his feelings as he always has been.

"How hard this is for you? Do you have any- argh!" I cut off in pain. As I was speaking, I'd stepped forwards, my leg sending a shock of agony through me as I'd done so, making me stumble forwards.

Snake moves closer, catching me before I can connect with the floor, his arms secure around me as my hands come to rest on his muscular chest. Blushing at the proximity, I try to ignore the butterflies in my stomach, pushing off of him to sit on a nearby chair, dropping the gun to the floor. Stretching out the affected leg, I sigh in frustration, the anger residing into the same loneliness I've always felt since I got the wounds that have left me like this.

Snake watches me silently, expression pained as he finally speaks.

"Can I...can I see? Please, I want to know what I did to you."

Surprised, I give him a sceptical look, before I hesitantly start to pull my trousers down over my legs. His eye widens at the sight of the limb, lips parting slightly.

Gnarled scar tissue crawls up my leg, discoloured and tight, appearing somewhat ghostly in the light of the room. Snake stares at it in horror, grief swiftly clouding his eye now as he falls to his knees in front of me, hands lifting to hover over it. He flicks his eye up to me, asking for permission, to which I nod, gasping as he removes his gloves and gently places his hands on the sensitive skin, a shiver going up my spine. Ever so carefully, Snake runs his palms over the scars, feeling them over with hesitant fingers, his expression becoming more and more open.

After a while, he looks up, pained eye meeting mine.

"God, (Y/n), I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry..." He grasps my hips, pushing his head into my abdomen as he wraps me into an awkward embrace, murmuring apologies over and over. Shocked, I hesitantly place my hands on his head, threading my fingers through his soft hair. An old tenderness springs into life within me, reminding me of why I used to stay with him, and what his riendship used to mean to me. Over the years, I had tried to forget it, but it's impossible - as he holds me close now, I realise I've missed him more than I'd ever let myself admit.

Snake pulls away after a few more minutes, caressing my hip as he looks up at me, thoughtful now.

"What job was it you needed help with?" I ask him quietly, twisting a strand of his hair between my fingers, "I'll work with you, if you drop the ego act."

He looks surprised and glad, a smallsile pulling at his lips.

"Of course." He promises, looking away again bashfully, "I only kept it up to impress you."

I blink in surprise.

"To impress me?" I repeat dumbly.

"Yeah, I, err, I've always felt the need to. Wanted to impress you so you'd consider going out with me." He admits, blushing furiously.

I blink again, head tilting in curiosity.

"Wait, what?"

"I always wanted to go out with you. Always." He chuckles, swallowing, "I've always loved you."

"You...you love me?!"

"Yeah, I do." Snake nods, biting his lip.

"Wow..." My voice trails off in surprise, unable to compute what he's saying, "I wish you'd told me sooner."

He frowns.

"What do you mean?"

I smile sheepishly at him.

"I've always had a thing for you, too. I just never thought you even liked me full stop."

"Really?!" He looks astonished.

"Yeah, really."

He's quiet for a moment, until a cunning smirk crosses his lips.

"In that case..." Snake leans up and connects our lips, kissing me softly but passionately.

A quiet moan escapes me, my lips moving instinctively against his, kissing him back in relief. His lips are chapped, but I can't find it in me to care as I pull his head closer to me, smiling as he pulls my body into him, his chest pressed firmly against my abdomen. In his arms, I can feel the pain of the last few years starting to slip away, still hooked deeply into me but starting to lessen, my eyes falling closed with the movement of his lips.

He finally pulls away, a content smile on his face, eye taking my expression in.

"So what's this job?" I breathe out, stroking his hair.

He grins lazily.

"Ever thought about going to LA?"

[alitaimagines]

“hey I heard you were a wild one. if I took you home it’d be a home run. show me how you do. I wanna shut the club with you, hey I heard you like the wild ones. ” 

INOSUKE HASIBIRA - DEMON SLAYER

note: so I’m halfway through the season but I’m like dying to write KnY fanfic. in order to get myself through this dilemma, I’ve turned it into an AU. I’m barely dipping my toes into this fandom so don’t slaughter me for my writing.

you had gotten out of the gym with sweat running down your face and your heart beating at what felt like the speed of sound. Nezuko had offered to come along with you for moral support. 

“hey, did Zenitsu call you at all?” you asked Nezuko looking down at your phone. Nezuko shook her head no, “he called me like ten times and that’s unusual, even for him.” 

you quickly called him back before hearing screams on the other end. you gave Nezuko a look before trying to get the blonds attention, “ZENITSU, WHAT IS GOING ON?” you yelled. 

it took a few more minutes before you heard shuffling, “hey, can you come to our place as soon as possible,” you sighed hearing Tanjirou’s voice, “is everything alright? why do I hear things shattering?” you asked now a bit more nervously, “just get here and prepare yourself.” 

Nezuko remained silent as she scanned the plethora of messages from her brother. your hands gripped the steering wheel wondering what it was that triggered your best friend to go feral. 

Inosuke had been seeing a girl for a few months now and you knew it was such a big step for the emotionally stunted boy. Zenitso and admittedly Tanjirou had been very hesitant on accepting her. 

it wasn’t news. Inosuke underneath his boar mask was very attractive and although he wore it anywhere he went, he was starting to wear it less in public which caused for girls who regularly ignored him to start paying a little more attention to him. 

the few of them noticed that his current girlfriend might’ve gotten with the blue haired boy for that reason. although you hadn’t seen it for yourself, you knew that Zenitsu and especially Tanjirou wouldn’t try to sabotage their best friends relationship just for the hell of it. 

you and Nezuko arrived to their shared apartment to hear Inosuke’s growls from inside. Nezuko had known of the issue so she saved herself the time and waited a bit longer in the car. 

“hey, it’s me,” you whispered as Zenitsu cried of relief, “what is going on?” you asked him as Tanjirou ran into the kitchen, “so, you know of Inosuke’s girlfriend, right?” you nodded, “well, they broke up. she wanted him to stop wearing his mask and he didn’t want too so she broke up with him.”

you sighed knowing this moment was inevitable. you told the two of them to give you a few minutes with him. 

the boys plus Nezuko had hundred percent preferred you with Inosuke instead of some random girl. you were one of the few selective people who knew how to calm the feral boy. you had met him when he wore his boar mask 25/8 and didn’t actually judge him for it. 

“Ino?” you asked as you tiptoed into the now destroyed living room, “Hashibira, are you calm yet?” you asked again as he grabbed a pillow ready to rip it. 

he immediately turned to you as you put your arms out for him. you knew Inosuke wasn’t a man of many words and preferred actions over speaking when it came to his emotions. 

“it’s okay Ino, it’s okay to cry,” you whispered as he shook his head no, “if you don’t feel like crying, you can always talk about it,” you offered as Inosuke shook his head again and stayed silent. 

you moved him to the couch and grabbed his hand softly, “listen, like I said, you don’t have to talk about it but anger is not the best outlet to let your steam blow off,” his boar head mask was covering his face as you slowly took it off, “one day, you’ll find someone who will like you, boar face and all,” you joked as you managed to actually make him laugh. 

feeling your phone go off in your pocket, you read that it was Tanjirou asking if it was safe to come in. you texted him a quick yes as heard the three of them walk in as slow as possible. 

“do you want to go and work out for a while? letting out steam by working out is actually a very healthy thing to do,” you asked Inosuke as he nodded yes, “do any of you want to come?” Tanjirou and Zenitsu let out a flat no as Nezuko reminded you that you had just came from the gym for yourself.

you ignored her comment and waited for Inosuke to come down the stairs to head out. Zenitsu couldn’t help but pout. you were a cute girl. a very cute girl and he hated that you were off limits according to Tanjirou.

Tanjirou was adamant on the fact that you were going to end up with Inosuke once he realized his feelings for you and until then, you were off limits to Zenitsu. 

“be careful!” Tanjirou yelled as you laugh, “I will, I’ll text you and let you know once he’s actually back to being the regular Inosuke,” you joked before shutting their door. 

the two of you drove back to the gym and got greeted excitedly by the receptionist. he knew Inosuke personally and even got a few training tips from him. 

“Inosuke, if I’m working out with you, please be easy, you know I can’t work out as hard as you can,” you begged making him laugh now, “no!” he exclaimed.

there was only a few who could actually work out and keep up with Inosuke. Tanjirou was one of them. the few times you actually tried to work out with him left you sore and bedridden for days on end. 

the two of you started out at the weight stations and slowly progressed to different stations before making your way to the punching bags. you had sweat running down your face and felt like your arms were ready to give out from lack of rest. 

“how much of this do we have to do? I’m going to pass out,” you groaned as Inosuke shook his head, “just enough,” he murmured before hearing you groan again. 

he propped up your arms to give you the right pose to start punching. although you loved to complain about Inosuke’s rigorous workouts, they did actually work and gave you a bit of muscles on your arms. it was nothing compared to Inosuke himself or even Tanjirou or Zenitsu but you took pride in the bit you had. 

once Inosuke realized that you were on the verge of actually passing out, he stopped and told you to chug down the water you brought. you instantly gulped down the two bottles of water and sat on the ground trying to catch your breath. 

“remind me to never ask you to workout again,” you groaned as you felt your body fall limp before feeling Inosuke pick you up with ease and throw you over his shoulder, “hey!” you yelled, “put me down!”

Inosuke shook his head no and continued to carry you out until you got back into your car. he slammed you down into the drivers seat before making his way to the passenger side. 

“eat,” he yelled as he gave you a handful of protein bars, “aw, you do care about me!” you laughed before ripping open a bar and scarfing it down. the two of you remained in the car eating them and listening to music before you received a message from both Tanjirou and Nezuko asking where the two of you were. 

-

a few months had passed since Inosuke’s ‘break up’. you remained working out together and tried your hardest to get his mind off the girl who broke his poor emotional heart. 

you were over at their apartment trying to help Zenitsu with assembling something he got in the mail. Tanjirou nor Inosuke were home but you knew it was a matter of time before they got here. 

“god Zenitsu, you put the wrong nails in the hole!” you exclaimed as you unscrewed the tiny nails, “hand me the instructions? I don’t want to sit here and build this wrong and have to do it all over again!” you said snatching the instructions from his hand. 

as you read over the instructions, you hadn’t heard Tanjirou or Inosuke come in. they both had quietly walked into the living room to see you and Zenitsu in deep though. 

“hey guys!” Tanjirou said excitedly. you gave him and Inosuke a small wave without giving them a look. 

Tanjirou had dismissed your attitude completely but Inosuke on the other hand didn’t actually like that you were alone with the blond idiot. seeing you alone with him triggered the anger he hadn’t felt since his previous relationship. 

Inosuke sat down to watch the two of you to see if his feelings remained the same and they did. you would laugh at whatever dumbass comment Zenitsu would say and each time, Inosuke would feel his hand clench. 

it was until you and Zenitsu finally finished what the two of you were doing when Inosuke dragged you to the kitchen to eat whatever Tanjirou made. you were caught a bit off guard but didn’t question him. 

“the food is really good,” you told Tanjirou as he gave you a thank you, “would either you or Zenitsu be able to drive me back home? I let Nezuko drive my car today since her car is in the shop and she isn’t out of work yet.” 

before their boys could respond, Inosuke immediately grabbed the keys from the kitchen counter, “I’ll take you,” he told the two boys as they backed off from the offer. 

the rest of dinner remained relatively silent until you told Inosuke you had to head home. he nodded and grabbed the keys once again as he opened the door for you. 

you hopped into the passenger seat and waited for Inosuke get himself situated. you could tell that he was a bit upset about something but you learned that unless something was really bothering him, he wouldn’t tell you. 

once he pulled up into your drive way, you were about to leave when he grabbed your wrist. you were a bit taken back by the action but let him do what he wanted. 

he slowly brought you in for a kiss on the cheek which made your face go warm immediately. you stared at him with in surprise before he muttered a single word into your ear. 

“mine.” 

ALITA

[mandadoration]

raise the stakes

summary: The Mandalorian and Carasynthia Dune have you, their sweet little mechanic, to themselves, ambushing you under the guise of leaving to get a bounty. Thank the Maker you’ve dropped the Child off because it gets a little hot and heavy in the Razor Crest. 

word count: 4, 299

Pairing: (sorta established) mandalorian x reader x carasynthia dune

warnings: smut, threesome (MFF), oral sex (male and female receiving), face sitting, face fucking, multiple orgasms, dom/sub undertones, praise kink, pain kink, creampie, unprotected sex, overstimulation

a/n: Same universe as settle the debt, but can be read as a standalone. Filthiest smut I’ve probably written thus far. 

Read this on AO3

---

Something… is definitely up when you walk back onto the Razor Crest. Cara is looking at you with a wicked smile on her face, and Mando… well you can’t exactly tell what he’s thinking, but it can’t be good when he gives Cara a curt nod. At some point they’ve gotten really good at communicating wordlessly, but something tells you that this was something discussed while you were busy actually doing your job instead of scheming. You drop your bag of tools by the hatch that is closing up behind you as you look between them with narrowed eyes. There’s some kind of tension rising in the air, and it makes you uncomfortable and shift where you stand. Not because there’s animosity, but rather it’s the lack of. You’re used to the playful competitiveness between the two, or even the worry that can stuff up the air after a dodgy mission, but this is some sort of inside joke that you are an outsider to. But whatever is lingering in the air is palpable. 

“The ship is in working order,” you announce, voice ringing clear in the quiet hull in an effort to try and clear up the tension, but the suspicion in your tone is too clear to really assuage anything or convince the two to let you in their shared secret. “Cleared up some gunk that was causing the weird sound. And I dropped the kid off with Greef Karga with some choice words. We should be good to go, but I recommend refueling before a second jump to hyperspace.” You receive no answer, but Cara does settle in her seat as Mando gets up and stalks towards you, for lack of a better word. You always seem to forget how formidable he seems. Probably because you’ve seen him fall asleep with the kid in his arms once or twice. After that, the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy tends to stop being so scary. You cross your arms as he walks right up to you and stand your ground. “Would anyone care to tell me exactly what’s going on?” you ask bluntly. 

“What do you mean?” Mando rumbles, and you have to look up at him with how close he is. He’s close enough that you can smell the lingering scent of blaster fire and whatever he polishes his gleaming beskar armor with. He completely engulfs your view, and when you crane your head around to try and look at Cara, he follows to stand in your way. You huff in annoyance. 

“You know what I mean,” you say. A step to the left, and Mando follows with barely any lag. A step to the right, and the same thing happens. The only thing Mando really moves for is when you take a step forward because he takes one back. Other than that, it seems like he insists on being nearly chest-to-chest with you. How childish. “Mando,” you sigh, “didn’t you say that we had some kind of bounty to go after?” The helmet tilts. 

“I did, didn’t I?” he says. You raise an eyebrow. He sounds like he’s entertaining you, as if you were some child. 

“Yes, you did,” you say slowly. “Which is why I did a checkup on the Crest and dropped off the kid with Karga. You know, like you pay me to do?” Although you suppose that the payment is less that and more like he gives you an allowance to spend when occasion allows since so much of your funds are essentially shared. Mando remains as impassive as ever. 

“And?”

“And,” you continue, frustration bleeding into your tone, “that means we should get going. Karga isn’t going to look after the child forev-- oh my goodness--” Your sentence dissolves into nothing as warm, calloused hands run over your shoulders and down your back, eventually settling on your hips as searing kisses are pressed to your throat. Mando takes this as his cue to swoop in, slotting his leg between yours as you’re effectively sandwiched between two bodies before you can think twice. Now you can see that Cara is no longer lounging in her chair. Mando runs a gloved finger down your face and over your lips before dropping it down to start working on the buttons of your mechanic’s jumpsuit. The other comes up to cup your face, nestling your jaw in his large hand. You blink. 

“What were you going to say?” Cara muses, voice muffled but all the same teasing as she sucks what’s sure to be a dark mark at the junction of your shoulder. She moves to the other side, nipping at your sensitive skin high above the collar to make sure you wouldn’t be able to hide it easily. You faintly register how Mando has managed to pop enough buttons open to slide his hand in to fondle your breasts over your undershirt. “Sounds like you lost your train of thought.” And it’s true because you don’t even have an inkling of what you were talking about before, the heat quickly building up in the pit of your stomach as you grasp at Mando’s arms in an effort to ground yourself to something. Mando grinds the cold cuisse of his beskar against your heat and your eyes flutter shut. You still try to save face. 

“Well I was- I was interrupted,” you gasp out. Mando unbuttons the rest of your jumpsuit all the way down to your navel and starts sliding it off of you, humming in appreciation when you slides your arms out to help him. 

“Here’s your chance to finish your train of thought, then,” he says. Cara’s hands leave your hips for a split second to let Mando pull your jumpsuit all the way off until it pools around your feet before her hands are right back on you with a bruising grip. You fumble around for the last thing you remember. 

“We have to-- We have a bounty?” you say, but it’s really more of a question as Mando slides his hands around to continue to strip you bare. Your shirt proves more of an issue, however, but Mando just simply grabs the collar of your shirt with his hands and rips in clean in half. “Hey--!” Your complaint is smothered by Cara sticking her fingers in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue as she shushes you and then praising when you instinctively curl your tongue around the digits. He leaves your panties on, much to your annoyance, now damp with your slick and leaving marks on the cuisse that you’re grinding against. Mando flicks a nipple, and you jolt. 

“Do we?” he asks in that stupid teasing voice he’s been using this entire time. “What do you think, Cara?” 

Cara merely presses her body flush against yours as her fingers leave your mouth to dip into your panties to play with your clit, dipping down further to collect some of your slick before going back up to start rubbing in slow circles. “I say,” she mutters, “that we have some time before we have to go.” You try and fail to swallow a moan at the husky tone of her voice. Mando gives a noise of agreement, and he takes off his gloves before he joins Cara’s hand at the apex of your thighs, moving aside your panties to run a finger over your entrance. You’re certain at this point the only thing holding you up is the fact you can barely move between the muscled bodies of Cara and Mando. 

“How much you-- ah, wanna bet that Karga will ask for mo-more payment for having to-- Maker, watch the kid for longer?” you stammer out. Cara and Mando loved to take their time with you, and you had only told Karga it would take less than a week at most. You were going to be wonderfully sore by the time they were through with you, which would certainly put a damper on your plans to follow the two out to get the bounty. The last time you were left alone you had to kill another damn bounty hunter that was looking for the kid, but not without being bedridden for an entire week and a half when a blaster shot clean through your thigh. Honestly, you thought they would be done by now, but still they came to collect the evasive little womp rat. Thank the Maker for bacta, and bless the Maker for the attention Cara and Mando had showered upon you including basically waiting hand and foot for you, but you were not going to let more hunters catch you slipping. “Yo-you know he does grow tired of playing- playing babysitter.”

“Well, Mando, what do you wager?” Cara asks. She presses a little harder against your clit. 

“I’m not betting when I already know Karga won’t say a word,” Mando responds. “He likes spending time with the kid.” You can feel Cara frown from where her mouth is pressed against your hair. “How about this?” he says slowly, and slips a finger into you. You cant your hips up. “How many times do you think we can make her cum?” Mando offers, and in no time he’s stuffing another finger into you. Cara’s frown turns into a pleased smile. 

“30 credits to say we can make her cum at least 3 times,” she says. 

“That’s it?” Mando says critically. 

“The amount of credits or the number of times?”

“Both.” You can feel Cara shrug. 

“Then feel free to raise the stakes, Mando.” Mando curls his fingers in you, and you cry out, legs nearly buckling under you as you reach behind you to tangle your hands in Cara’s hair. She grunts, and starts circling your clit faster. 

“50 credits,” Mando says, voice dropping lower than before, “for at least 5.” You can feel a rush of wetness gush out of you as Mando slips in a third finger with ease, and for a second you think they’ve sort of forgotten you can hear them. 

“M-Mando,” you moan. Certainly at this point you were being entirely held up by the two. At the call of his name, the Mandalorian starts pumping his fingers in and out of you, obscene squelching filling the air over your pathetic moans. Cara pretends to think about it. 

“75 credits for 6.”

“Deal.” 

And then Cara speeds up substantially and Mando is fucking you on his fingers and suddenly you’re cumming so much that your vision goes white for a split second. You faintly register how wantonly you’re moaning, but you’re too concerned with clenching around Mando’s thick fingers and scrabbling for purchase in Cara’s hair to care. It’s utterly indecent and you’re so glad the child isn’t here because the guilt would weigh too heavy in your heart to know they would’ve been an unwilling listener to whatever was happening right now. You rest assured in knowing he’s being spoiled silly by Karga, and curl your toes in your boots. Mando maybe says something about this being ‘one out of six’, but you can’t be too sure. You were concerned with making you didn’t pass out with how hard your orgasm had slammed into you.

As you come down, you realize at some point that they’ve lowered you onto a small makeshift nest of blankets and pillows that you really don’t know how you didn’t notice before. Mando’s pulling off your boots and tossing aside your jumpsuit as Cara arranges you on the floor, and you can practically feel how they’ve got their eyes glued on your heaving breasts as you drag in deep breaths to try and calm your racing heart. 

“You planned this all along,” you accuse, breathless but still chock full of false venom, pointing a finger between Mando and Cara. “You-- mmph-!” Cara interrupts you again by capturing your mouth with hers, immediately slipping a tongue when you open yours in surprise. She pulls back much too soon, and she pushes you back down with ease when you try to follow her up, wanting more. 

“You talk too much,” she says, stroking your cheek and softening the scowl you have on your face. Mando pulls your panties off all the way and stares at your blushed hole, glistening in the low light of the Razor Crest. “We should fix that.” You huff and try your best not to feel too self-conscious with how Mando keeps looking at your pussy. The temptation to try and kick him from your position on the floor is overwhelming.

“Well if you stopped interrupting me I could--” And Cara ducks her head to kiss you again and cut you off, but you can’t really complain because her mouth is warm and inviting. You close your eyes in pleasure, focusing the feeling of her lips moving against yours, but you can feel the air shift around you as Mando and Cara move around. It’s weird to feel Cara’s mouth move as you stay stagnant, and when you open your eyes again, you find that they’ve switched places. Cara kneels between your legs as Mando is unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants, palming at his hard cock over his underclothes. 

“Maybe you just need something to occupy your mouth,” Cara teases. She gives your thigh a sharp slap. “Flip over.” You scowl at her, but do as she asks, turning around to lay on your belly. You expect her to hunch over to give attentive kisses down your back as you know she loves to do, but to your surprise, Cara hooks her strong arms under your hips until your face is squished against the layers of blankets, and your hips are swaying in her face. You shiver when your pussy is exposed to the cooler air of the ship, and even more when Cara’s hot breath fans over it. You prop yourself up on your elbows, looking up at Mando through your lashes when he pulls out his cock and strokes himself slowly, smearing his precum around the head, but uses whatever wetness is left on his fingers from your cum. He scoots forward, and you obediently open your mouth to take him, moaning in tandem with Mando when Cara’s tongue licks a broad stripe up your cunt. 

“Fuck,” Mando groans. His cock rests hot and heavy in your mouth as you try to calm your spinning head and focus on him. That proves a challenge when Cara is quickly bringing you up to that crest again, licking into your pussy and spreading your cheeks by digging her fingers into the flesh of your ass. If it weren’t for the fact your head was spinning with lust, you would’ve probably felt extremely embarrassed with how receptive you are, swaying your hips and pushing back to chase after that mind-numbing pleasure again. Mando takes pity on you and slowly starts thrusting into your warm mouth, a tender hand brushing your hair out of your face as tears start gathering at the corner of your eyes whenever he hits the back of your throat. Everytime you gag, his cock jumps a little. But thank the Maker that Mando is doing most of the work because it’s hard to really focus on anything other than Cara’s mouth on you and oh-- now she’s pushing in a finger and you’re arching your back as you let out a muffled moan. Mando hisses at the vibration and twitches his hips forward. You bunch up the blankets under you in your fist as you fight the urge to gag again. 

“You’re missing out on this sweet cunt, Mando,” Cara says, pulling back to give you a mere second of reprieve before she dives right back in. 

“So you are you,” he rasps. He grabs your hair, pulling until you whine at the sharp pain, and then starts fucking into your mouth in earnest. “Her mouth, fuck, is so warm.” Cara slips in two more fingers next to the first, scissoring you open, and you really think you can’t feel anymore full than you already are. “So eager.” Her tongue is wicked on your clit, and you start to clench around her fingers. 

“You close?” Cara mutters, her voice thick with lust. You garble something unintelligible in response. 

“Her mouth is a little, hah, preoccupied at the moment,” Mando says. 

“I wonder why.” And Cara gives a particularly hard suckle on your clit and this time your orgasm washes over you in a hot tide instead of slamming into you. Mando pushes in a little deeper, wiping away the tears that fall from your eyes as your throat constricts around him, cooing praises at you through the crackling of the voice modulator. Cara slows her ministrations, but keeps her fingers in your pussy as she lets your ride out the aftershocks. You think you’ve finally calmed down lazily bobbing your head as you try to catch moments of air between it, but Cara drags her fingers out of you and gives you a few short slaps to your pulsing cunt. These two were going to be the death of you. 

“That’s two,” Mando notes, his tone too casual compared to how ruined you already felt. Could you really handle four more? Cara hums and continues to smear more of your wetness around your already sopping wet core. She breaks her gaze from your center, to your flushed face, and to Mando. 

“Wanna--”

“Yes.” 

Mando slides out of your mouth with a pop, a thread of saliva connected you two, and you keen high in your throat when their combined body warmth fades, looking up pleadingly up at Mando with glazed eyes. They both laugh, low and deep in their chests, and Mando strokes your cheek affectionately. “Calm down,” he soothes. Instead of moving around like you expected them to do, Cara pulls you off of your hands and knees and up against her back, sliding you down until you’re comfortably on your back. Mando rubs his cock between your lips, gathering the slick there as Cara pulls her pants down and kicks them off to join your own discarded clothes. “Shit, you’re wet,” Mando hisses. Cara swings her leg over your face, swaying her hips over your face and laughing when you try and crane your head up to meet her. 

“Told you so,” she says to Mando over her shoulder, and then she’s lowering her hot cunt onto your waiting mouth. You give a moan of appreciation that turns into a moan of need as Mando pushes the blunt head of his cock into your entrance. He doesn’t push in all the way, just teasingly back and forth until you whimper and wiggle your hips at him. You lick into Cara, circling her clit with your tongue, diving down to her entrance to lap at her wetness before going back. She sighs happily. 

“And I told you,” Mando responds. “Sounds like we’re even.”

“For now,” Cara breathes. Mando finally pushes fully into you, his thick cock seemingly splitting you as he presses those inches into you. It’s dizzying, and far better than the fingers either of them had given you. Now you can’t even complain that you’ve cum twice before this. You’re not quite sure how Mando could’ve fit if it weren’t for the fact you’ve already been worked open and slick with want. Still, Mando hisses and has to move slowly as your pussy stretches around him. When he fully bottoms out, you scrabble at Cara’s thighs, leaving red marks in the wake of your nails. She lets out a flitting laugh at the yelp you give as she pulls your hair. “Don’t wear her out too fast, Mando,” she says. The entire exchange sounds a little muffled, Cara’s strong thighs covering your ears as the strong, corded muscles flex with every little kitten lick you give. It’s a different kind of suffocation compared to sucking Mando’s dick. You are entirely engulfed with Cara’s presence, and you could die happy from where you are. 

If only the two devils would leave you alone to bask in your satiation instead trying to wring your very soul from your cunt. 

“Bold of you to assume she’s anywhere near tapping out,” Mando replies dryly, and drags his cock out before working on pushing back in again. You whine again when he does, and Cara yanks on your hair to bring your attention back. Then, low in your ear, “You’re not done until I say you’re done. And that’s not gonna be until I’m satisfied.” This is when you start to wonder how much of this is them betting over you, and how much is them trying to prove something. Both of them have incredible stamina, and you’re already worn out. 

“Don’t forget about me,” she teases, mock threatening with the strong hold she has on you. At this rate you were going to go bald with how they seem to be enamored with pulling your hair. But honestly her words don’t hold any promise because she grinds down into your face and there’s no way you can ignore her unless you passed out from the lack of air. 

Actually you may not be too far off. 

Between you trying to drag in breaths whenever Cara takes pity and lifts up now and then, and Mando punching the breath right back out of you, it’s hard to breathe properly. Especially as he thumbs short, quick strokes on your clit, timing it with every sharp thrust in. “C’mon, sweet girl,” Mando murmurs. “I know you’ve got another one in you.” The coil in your stomach is winding tighter and tighter as he adjusts his grip and swings one of your legs over his shoulder, driving in harder, and suddenly Cara’s grip in your hair is grounding more than anything. At the new angle, he’s hitting that sweet spot that makes you wail under Cara. “C’mon,” he urges. “Cum for me.” 

You mumble something, and Cara lifts just enough to let you speak. “I don’t- I don’t know if I can,” you stammer, squeaking when Mando gives you a sharp slap to your thigh, and Cara lowers herself back down. 

“Yes, you can,” Mando and Cara say simultaneously. Mando cranks up his thrusts until you can feel yourself shifting upwards with each motion, inch by inch, and if it weren’t for the blankets under you, you would’ve expected some nasty marks. 

Somehow Mando draws another orgasm out of you that leaves your legs shaking and toes curling as your run red marks down Cara’s thighs in an effort to express the waves of pleasure washing over you. At the same time, Cara nearly properly sits on your face, moaning as she cums, gushing wetness all over your lower face, chasing after her own orgasm. 

Mando hunches over at the vice grip your pussy has on his cock, and his hips stutter in their motions as he buries himself as deep as he can, and another feeling in you bottoms out when the hot spurts of cum coat your insides. His moaning sounds broken through the vocoder, so much so you nearly mistake for a guttural growl. You barely register the how your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you think you’ve definitely blacked out at some point because when you come to you’re sandwiched between the two on the floor, Cara pressing more kisses to your collarbone and chest and Mando stroking your hair. 

“You good?” Cara asks softly. You blink, staring up at the ceiling of the Crest before you realize you were supposed to answer. 

“I think I pulled a muscle,” you say weakly, and your voice is a little hoarse. The two huff a laugh, and you settle deeper into the blankets and pillows, sighing contently. You don’t even mind that you feel gross and cum is dribbling out of your pussy and cooling on your thighs. 

Well, actually you’d rather not think about it. It’s pretty gross. 

Cara runs a thumb over the skin on your ribs, right under your breast, tenderly. Your entire body is thrumming with aches and wonderfully sore, and you really don’t know how you were supposed to help Cara and Mando with the bounty. 

“The bounty!” you gasp, startling the two around around as you try to get up. Cara puts a firm hand on your chest and pushes you back down. 

“What are you talking about?” she asks.

“The bounty we were supposed to get!” you elaborate, trying to shove her hand off of you as you try to locate your clothes. “I told Karga it wouldn’t take too long and--” Mando and Cara laugh. Although it’s in good humor, they may as well have laughed in your face. 

“There is no bounty,” Mando says, humor lacing his tone. “We just told you that so that we can have you to ourselves.” He brings you back down and tucks your head into the crook of his arm. 

“You work yourself too much,” Cara adds. 

“Oh,” you say. Your voice sounds small. “Wait, does that mean I did pre-flight checks for nothing?” The memory of being elbow deep in black sludge surfaces. 

“Yeah.” You frown, but resign yourself to snuggling closer to Mando and slinging your leg over Cara’s hips, closing your eyes as a wave of exhaustion washes you. 

“Ah, what do you think you’re doing?” Mando asks. He pats your face a couple of times to rouse you, and Cara reaches down to cup your heat. Cara grins, and you would bet the rest of your rations that Mando was too. 

“We still have a bet to settle,” he says. “And I’m thinking about raising the stakes.”

---

Forever Tag: @mabelleen​ @mando-vibes​ @isaissafail @adikaofmandalore 

[caterinawriting]

The Cost of a Legacy (4)

Summary : He sees her and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, everything perfect. Well except the fact that they’re growing up during the revolutionary war. Their love will hit many hurdles and what the future has in store may not be what they planned. 

Pairing : John Laurens x Reader

Words : 4,851

1771 October

My Dearest (Y/n),

I know by the time you receive this letter you will hopefully be in Switzerland, it's come to my realization that our declarations of love will be few and far. My letters, no matter how many I write won’t arrive in your sweet hands till weeks after it’s written. It was silly of me to hope that the distance between us wouldn’t affect our dynamic.

Don’t misinterpret me my love, this does not change anything between us. This just makes my anticipation for your letters even greater.

Anyway, I’ve returned to my usual routine and to my parents demands, I have begun to take my studies seriously, which I know will ease your mind. It feels odd to have no reason to travel to New York though, maybe I’ll visit your old man after he comes back from seeing you. Henry Jr. has been kinder, he never liked my frequent trips to see you, as you know. I think he’s jealous of how much time I spent with you over him, but I don’t regret it.

I miss our adventures through Manhattan, I wish I had taken you out more. Not that I didn’t love our time spent on the outskirts of the busy town. But I wish I could have taken you to Charleston, to meet my mother or siblings. Aw, little James would have loved you, well he’s not so little anymore but he loves meeting new people. My sisters would have loved to listen to your romance stories, and your life in the biggest city in the colonies.

Well, my love, I wait for your response. I pray you’ve arrived safely in your new home and that you meet new FEMALE friends. I can not stress this enough love, FEMALE friends would be ideal. Though I trust you, I don’t trust the Swedish BOYS, they will try, mark my words. Your beauty charms everyone. But while those Boys wil try to gain your affection but remember you have a MAN across the sea still dedicated to courting you.

With Love

John Laurens

1771 November

To my darling John,

Oh, John, your right, your letter took so long to arrive, I almost had myself convinced you didn’t want to write to me. I guess we both didn’t factor in the whole ocean and thousands of miles of land we'd be apart, seems obvious now.

I want to wish you a happy birthday darling. I wish I was able to stay to celebrate your 17th with you, but it seems like my father wanted me gone quickly. I know it’s not much but I’m sending my favorite hair ribbon with this letter, a small token to remind you of me. I wish I could send you an actual gift but the sisters here are very strict and were only allowed to exit the grounds with a male companion. And as your letter states, I will attempt to stay far away from any gentleman callers.

John, I miss you so much. I long to be in your arms again, who knows when that will next be. Do you have to live an ocean away? What an unfair God we serve, he put this distance between us.

Thoughts of you never leave my mind, I wake and wonder if you’ve gone off to class, after I leave class I wonder how you fared at your job for that day. And at night when I rest on my bed I stare at the stars we used to gaze together I wonder if you're also missing my company. I miss you, John. There’s so much more I want to say to you, but I’ll save that for when I see you again, I pray it is soon.

With Love,

(Y/n) Fiore Gavalanch

1771 December

“Johnny, your old man said you were up he-oh a letter from Miss Gavalanch I assume?” Dave entered the room seeing his friend at his desk reading a letter. “Yea, why are you here?” John answered still focused on his letter.

“Mate, I’m here to save you from your self. Come on John lets go out for  a walk or we could stand in the middle of town and wait for some crazy loon to start cursing about the king?” John shook his head, “No I’ve got to write back (Y/n) back. The faster I write it and send it out the faster it can get to her.” Dave sighed, “John, mate you can’t just live for these letters, you’ve done nothing but study, work and wait for her response for the past 3 months. I’m sure (Y/n) wants you to have a life too.”

John sighed, of course Dave was right, John just didn’t want to accept it. His life these past few months has been terrible, of course reading and responding to (Y/n)’s letters were the highlight but besides that, he felt like a big part of his soul was missing. He knew he felt like this because she was gone. “Your right Davey, let go to town and watch the protesters make speeches about how terrible our leader is... Which he is.” He corrected his friend and he put his coat on. “You have your opinion, I have mine. Call them protesters I call them fools, they deserve to be beheaded.” John rolled his eyes, “Come on let’s go.” They turned to exit, John, paused to grab the ribbon on his desk and staching it in his pocket.

1772 January

“Miss Gavalanch! You’ve got a letter from New York, and Charleston.” (Y/n) ran down from her room to the entrance of the home, one had to be from her father the other John. “Thank you Anna!” She kissed the woman’s cheek before skipping back the room happily, Anna had been hired by her father to keep watch of her here in Switzerland. Not like (y/n) got to do much anyway since she was preoccupied with her studies.

Her first few months in Geneva were to state simply, sad. After her father’s visit she knew her stay would be longer than she expected, she begged for him to take her back and her father a man who has never said no to her refused. After his short visit he left as if there was no issue, which upset her. If he really planned to keep her here for who knows how long she could go years without seeing John.

She sat on her bed and placed her father’s letter to the side, probably just sending her money as he had done so far. She held John’s letter tracing over how he wrote her name on the envelope, she adored his writing. She opened his letter, oh how she longed to hear his voice instead of imagining it.

To my love,

First, let me wish you a Merry Christmas! I know you’re not used to be alone during this time, but I hope your new friends made you feel welcomed. Now let me say Happy New Year, when I’m writing this it’s not yet 1772 but I assume by the time you get this it will be.

I wanna thank you for the ribbon you sent me, I like looking it and remembering that you’re out there waiting for me. No gift from you is too small, I just hope you’re still wearing the necklace I gifted you. I have a surprise for you, during the summer I may have enough saved to come to see you, maybe just for a week but its better than nothing. I know the summer is far from now but think about it love, we could be in each other’s arms again.

Things in the colonies don’t seem to be going well, just the other day I went downtown to see many folks protesting, Dave my friend who I used to mention from school, isn’t very fond of the riots. I don’t understand how he still supports stupid King George, I think if there was a war tomorrow I’d volunteer. I don’t think the people here really want to fight though, so maybe we can come to a compromise that will benefit us all. God knows that if we don’t things could get ugly fast.

Besides how terrible things are going for us over here please write to me on how you are. I worry about you constantly (Y/n). Maybe soon I’ll go visit your old man soon. Take care of yourself love, hopefully, I’ll hear from you soon.

Sincerely Yours,

John Laurens

“What are you all smiley for?” Anna asked standing in front of (Y/n) door entrance. (Y/n) startled dropped the letter and grabbed her father’s. “Nothing just reading what my father wrote to me.”

“And the letter from Charleston, whos that one from?” She smiled looking away from Anna, holding her necklace “Just a friend.” Anna hummed shutting the door leaving (Y/n) to herself. Oh John, how I long for you, she thought.

1772 February

“JOHN!”

“Coming mother” He ran up to his parent’s room striding over to his mother. “Yea Ma? You need me to get you more water or get a meal started?” She shook her head and motioned him to sit. “I’m fine son, I just wanted to talk, see how you’re doing in school.” She turned her head to cough.

“I’m good ma, focusing on my studies as you wanted.” He took her hand and tried to warm it with his, she was getting worse. His mother had entertained 5 pregnancies, so when she announced her sixth pregnancy everyone was elated, another Laurens child. But this one was different from the start, his mother was put on strict bed rest from the doctor, he said that since she was older she wasn’t able to handle being pregnant like younger women could. So here she was bedridden for 3 months so far and she’d stay her for another 6, the doctor blamed her pregnancy on her other symptoms too. Lack of appetite, weight loss, and constant fever.

“How’s that girl, what’s her name again?” He smiled, the mention of (Y/n) always brightened the day. “Ahh, Martha! Hows she son?” He frowned, Martha. Martha who was his father’s business partner’s daughter. Martha who stayed with his family over the holidays, something he didn’t want to include in his letters to (Y/n). Martha who had apparently grown fond of John because she sent him a letter every two weeks. She was from London where his father’s new business took place, where letters got here faster than from Switzerland. “Shes good I think.”

“She’s such a sweet girl John, only two years younger than you. And she seems to like you very much, I see she send you letters more frequently than Gavalanch’s girl.” Ever since his mom met Martha she was obsessed with her, always bringing her up during dinner and how elegant of women she was. It wasn’t that he hated Martha she was just too bland, shes like every girl in Charleston, except she has a British accent, which didn’t help her here in the colonies anyway. She had no opinions, agreed with all his statements, and laughed at everything he said, even when it wasn’t funny. He understood why she was like that but he wasn’t interested.

“(Y/n) cant write to me as often because she’s in Switzerland, which is so much farther than Britain. You know that mother, and you know I’m not interested in Martha so please stop writing her.” She huffed, John understood she knew nothing about (Y/n) except that her father was a cruel man who constantly put down his father, which didn’t make (Y/n) seem like the best person. “John, sweetheart I just wanna see you marry soon, before I go, to great women like Martha.” He sighed trying not to be angry with his mother, not wanting to start an argument with his ill mother.

He stood up leaning down to kiss her head “Maybe I will.” A white lie, something to calm his mother’s nerves for a bit. She smiled pulling him close “John, Marthas a good girl who likes you and her father could provide you with a good career. Think about it, you could be happy.” He pulled away with a small nod making his way to his room. He sat at his desk and began composing another letter, why could you be here?

1772 March

“Is that John Laurens? John, John!” He turned startled to see no one other than Angelica Schuyler and her two younger sisters trailing after her. “Angelica! Long time no see, how are you? Elizabeth, Margarita.” He greeted the younger girls. “I’m as good as I can be when my best friend is a world away, but I guess you can relate. I knew her father was mean but to send his only daughter away for no valid reason, that man upsets me.” She frowned at him, her sisters nodding in agreement, at least their father wanted them around. “What are you doing in Manhattan John?” Eliza asked.

“Well truly I just wanted to get away from the noise in my home, so I wanted to go where I feel most at peace, and well I got in a carriage to New York.” New York always calmed him, or he supposed (Y/n) calmed him. He hoped he could relax even with her not being here. “I was actually on my way to see (Y/n)’s father, it been a minute since I’ve pestered him with my existence. In all seriousness though, (Y/n) wanted me to see how her father was doing, she says her father’s letters are becoming sporadic and shes worried. So here I am”

“Well John maybe you should fix your coat first, you’ve got a huge hole on the arm, I’m sure Mr. Gavalanch won’t think highly on you if you show up like that. Good luck but me and the girls have to go home before father starts looking for us. Don’t be a stranger!” He waved goodbye watching his old friend leave, maybe he should visit Manhattan more often. Just because (Y/n) was gone doesn’t mean he should avoid the city entirely. He looked at his coat seeing the whole Angelica was talking about, dammit shes right Gavalanch would use any imperfection against him. He made his way downtown, he’s pretty sure he saw a tailor on his way up.

He arrived at “Mulligans Tailor” he walked in happy to see it wasn’t busy. “Sir how can I help you?” The young man behind the register asked him to which he pointed at his jacket “I’m on my way to see my- my father in law and I noticed a hole in my jacket. Is there any way you could fix it now?” He took off his coat and handed it to the tailor “Yes I could fix it, it’ll be 12 pence”

“12 pence to fix a small hole? That’s insane sir.” The man smirked “Sir we provide luxury tailoring here, most of our business comes from British soldiers, so our prices are high for a reason.” “Fine here.” He took out his wallet and gave the young man money. “It’ll be ready in 10 minutes, so you can take a seat.” He gestured to the stool and began working on the coat. “So whos your father in law must be an important man to fix a coat for 12 pence.”

“Well he’s not my father in law yet, I’m courting his daughter. Um, Mr. Gavalanch up on Williams Street.” The boy gasped “Your courting (Y/n) Gavalanch? Well, I thought her father wasn’t giving permission to start courting her. So many of my pals from school have asked him and he’s said no every time.” John shrugged “I didn’t exactly ask for permission.” The tailor laughed, “that makes sense Mr. Gavalanch even said no to Thomas Detuch, his father is rich. With their combined fortune, they could own all of New York.”

“Gosh your a lucky man what I would do if I could get my hands on her-”

“Watch it.” He glared at the boy, no one was going to talk about his girl like that. “Woah man just congratulating you, I don’t have anything to offer a girl like that anyway.” He nodded in reply, he didn’t have enough to provide for a girl like (Y/n) either. The thought saddened him sure his father was respected in Charleston but here in Manhattan, they were no ones. “All done man.” He stood up and approached the tailor “Thanks-”

“Hercules, Hercules Mulligan.” He shook Hercules’s hand “John Laurens, thanks, Hercules. See ya around.” He put his coat on and exited the shop making his way back uptown.

Looking at (Y/n)’s home you’d think it was abandoned, the grass dead, stairs dirty, and (Y/n)’s beloved flowers shriveled. He knocked on the door, looking around the porch, mail on the ground. He picked them up to see 2 from (Y/n) and 5 others from some men, he assumed business partners of Gavalanch.  He knocked again, wondering why the help hadn’t come to open yet, he waited until the door was opened. There stood a disheveled Gavalanch, it looked as if he hadnt shaved in 2 months, his clothes wrinkly. He looked like a bum in comparison to Johns’s neat look. “Laurens? What are you doing here? (Y/n)’s gone.” He stepped out closing the door behind him, not wanting John to see the state of the inside of the house.

“I know Sir, um your daughter wrote me. She asked me to come up and check on you, she states you’ve seen distant in her letters and don’t tell  her anything about how you are doing.” Gavalanch smiled “My girl, always worrying about me. Boy, write to her and tell her I’ll write to her as soon as I get the chance, I’ve just been busy with business, that’s all.” He nodded but something was off, a man John knew his whole life to be a neat, sophisticated looking man now looked like he lived outside for the last 5 months. He started to retreat, “John, does my daughter write you frequently?”

“No sir, she was worried and knew that her friends here wouldn’t want to approach you, so she asked me.” He lied trying to read Gavalanches face, did he buy it? “Okay, after this letter please don’t write her again she needs to focus on her studies.” He nodded making his way out of the yard, “Yes sir, see you around.”

1772 April

My dear (Y/n),

I spoke to your father on my trip to New York, he looked tired to say the least. He assured me he was just overworked, yet if that were the case Id think your father needs to retire. He said he’d write to you as soon as his work allowed it. Don’t fret my love your father will write to you soon, he’s a hard worker and sometimes works can consume men. But they do it to provide for those they love, as I will with you when you return back from the Switz.

On my trip, I saw your dear friend Angelica, and her darling sisters. They grow ten times faster than normal children I swear. Angelica expressed to me how much she missed your company, Elizabeth probably still too young to understand her. I bet you miss her, I remember when she joined us on our adventures, or should I say when I joined you two. I admire your friendship so much.

While in Manhattan I met a friend of my own, a tailor named Hercules Mulligan, he patched my coat and after I spoke to your father we chatted a bit, I told him how I used to visit the city every weekend to be with you, and how now I long to be in the city again. The pace in New York is just so much more exciting than Charleston. I think when you come back I’ll stay for good, to be with you and the city. Any way Hercules offered to let me stay with his family when I want to come visit the city.  

As you might recall I told you my parents were attempting to have one more child, well mother is now pregnant. Shes become ill through her pregnancy, the doctor says after the baby is delivered she will be healthier. I hope that is the case. Well, love I hope you write me back as soon as possible. Remember I hope to see you this summer.

Yours always,

John Laurens

1772 May

“Henry go get your brother” Mrs. Laurens laid on her bed sweaty, weak, and fragile. Her skin sunken, only her bump sticking out. He nodded leaving his mothers beside to find his brother, he looked in Johns’s room seeing no sight of him, he headed out to the garden in their backyard. As his senses told him there was John with a letter in his hand laying on the grass without a care in the world. Everyone but John had pretty much known that their mother was close to death, she woke up every day in pain and rambled nonsense, they assumed only holding on to deliver her last baby. John chooses to ignore the obvious.

His actions the past few months angered Henry. He had been so focused on (Y/n) and her family and his new friends in New York that it seemed like John wasn’t even there. He approached John snatching the letter from his hand “Mom wants to see you.” John stood up snatching the letter back and tucking it in his pocket. “Just say so, no need to get nasty.” He pushed past his younger brother and made his way to his parents room.

“Mother, Henry said you wanted to see me.” He sat down beside his mother, a position that he grew to hate. “Yes Johnny, I have something to give you.” She reached over and handed him a letter “It’s from Martha, your brother gave it to me while you were out and I read it. I know that’s your mail but son from what I read this girl really loves you.” She smiled, she looked down at her left hand and began pulling off her wedding ring. He gasped as she took his hand and placed the ring in his hands. “Mom what-”

“Shh Johnny, my first baby. I love you and I wanna see you happy. And I think we all know after I have my last angel, I won’t recover. I want you to take this and give it to your bride.” She gestured to the letter in his other hand. “Mom don’t say that you’re going to have this baby and raise it. God wouldn’t let you die.” She chuckled wiping the tears that spilled from his eyes. “Sweetie I think God is calling me, it’ll be my time soon. So I want you to stay here and help your father with your siblings, your father could move his business to Charleston and you could work for him here. And Martha and her father could come here and it would bring you closer-”

“Mom no, I don’t want Martha, you know that.” She shook her head “I know, you don’t want her right now. But you could learn to love her John, she’s a great girl.” He stood up wiping his tears on his own, he smiled tucking in his mother, knowing he couldn’t change her mind. “Rest mom, I’ll come to see you after your nap.” She nodded falling asleep quickly. He turned to leave stopping when he saw Henry waiting for him the hallway.  “What?”

“Read Marthas letter, Mother read it to me and well, I know you love (Y/n). But you need to set things straight with Martha, shes… I would call her delusional.” And with that Henry left to his room, John made his way to his, and opened her letter.

Dearest John Laurens,

I found it odd that you haven’t written me back since my visit to your family in December. As you know your mother and I have become close friends, shes assured me you’re very busy with work and your studies. Which I completely understand, I’d expect nothing less of a great man like yourself.

Your mothers told me you’re very shy with your feelings too, so here I am being rather bold to say  I Adore You, John. I know its not very characteristic of me, but your mother says you enjoy that. If you don’t please let me know, I want to be the perfect match for you.

My mother raised me to be a perfect bride for whatever groom would have me. I also wanted to let you know my father one hundred percent approves of you, so it is whenever your ready we can begin courting. Im patient John.

Say hello to your mother for me, and let her know I’ll be around by the end of June. See you soon.

Yours Truly

Martha Mannings

Oh god, what is happening to his life.

1772 June

“JOHN, HENRY! Hurry” John heard his younger sister yell, he sighed as he out his half-written letter to (Y/n) away. He stood up making his way to where he heard her yell. “Mary I was writi-”

“John! We need to go, get to the horses!” His younger brother yelled running past him to their stables. He quickly followed his brother mounting his horse, “Henry what happened?”

“Mother went into labor” He gasped, his mother wasnt due for another month. “I’ll get the doctor, you go find father.” Henry nodded riding away, to find their father while John went the other way to the doctors home.

---

“How’s  your mother?” Their father who was out of breath, arriving with Henry. “The doctors been with her for a couple of hours and the midwife arrived half an hour ago. They said when you arrive to go in.” His father nodded running up the stairs to his wife. For the past hours, all the Laurens kids were hearing were screams and cries from their sweet mother.  “John is mommy going to be okay?” Mary the youngest asked, in tears hugging her brother’s side. “I don’t know Mary.”

“John! Mary of course Mothers going to be okay.” Henry responded trying to calm their siblings. He sat down next to John and took his hand and Mary’s. “We’re going to pray for Mother, Mary do you wanna start?” The little girl nodded, shutting her eyes and began her prayer. John sat there holding hands with his four siblings watching them pray, pray to a God who put their mother in this situation. He sat in silence.

---

“John, John.” He awoke to see his father red-eyed in front of him, he stood up without waking his siblings since they had fallen asleep waiting to see what happened. His father gestured that they leave the room, John followed. “How’s Mother? And the baby?” His father held his oldest son’s shoulder, “The baby, was a boy. He didnt make it, he was gone when he came out.” His father cried hugging his oldest, “And mother how she take it?” He father cried harder, “Father”

“Your mother had to go with your brother.” He stiffened “What?” His father pulled away, “The pain was too much for her, son.” He felt like he couldn’t breathe, just like that. Their savior not only took his brother but his mother. “I need to go, I need air.” He walked out not saying another word to his crying father.

---

Her ceremony was beautiful. He sat by her freshly covered grave, hours after the burial happened. His father and siblings gone, crying inside. He had yet to shed a tear, anger consumed him, why kind of god would kill his mother and baby brother. He stood when he heard footsteps behind him.

“I came as soon as I heard what happened. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, I wish I could have gotten here earlier but I’m here for you now John.” He ran to her and hugged her. “Thank you for coming Martha.” He whispered, “Its no trouble John.”

1772 July

John, John, John. He was all that was on her mind, why hadn’t he written her? Was he still coming to see her? Did he still want this, her? She paced around her room waiting to see if Anna had any mail for her. It wasnt like John to leave her feeling so helpless.

“(Y/n), I’ve got something from Charleston!” Anna yelled as she made her way up, ‘Oh thank you Anna, thank you!” She smiled kissing both her cheeks grabbing the letter. “After you read your letter please come down to eat (Y/n) you need to eat tonight.” She nodded.

“Of course Anna Ill be down soon.” Anna nodded leaving (Y/n)’s room. She sat on her bed and took a deep breath, this would answer all her questions. To why her love hadnt written her if he was going to travel the sea to see her.

Dear (Y/N)

I won’t be coming to Switzerland, I’m sorry. I’ll write to you soon.

Sincerely

John Laurens

---

I finally edited this! I don’t know how Britains currency worked/use to work so sorry if thats wrong. 

New chapter soon!

[nejisrightkneecap]

KRBK FIC REC MASTERLIST

I have compiled a massive Kiribaku fic list, please indulge. - the laundry room ; dellsey

It’s a really cute quick fic about special moments Kirishima and Bakugou are able to share while they wait for their laundry to finishes :) - The Beauty of a Beast ; starofjems

A Beauty and the Beast AU!!! It’s a longer fic, but 100% worth the read. The author is SO good at portraying the characters personalities.

- Heart Strings ; starofjems

This one is also by starofjems!! Although it is a lot shorter, it is still AMAZING. Bakugou is able to see a red string that connects soul mates together and eventually Kirishima stumbles by. - Spooky times & cuddles ; Jartz

A VERY cute short fic about Kirishima going over to Bakugou’s house for halloween! It’s good to read any season though. - Who’s Next? ; MyBlackCrimsonRose

Bakugou gets hella hurt during a fight and Kirishima is a BADASS in getting revenge. This one is also a quick read and I highly suggest it!! - the easy parts ; chonideno 

Kirishima gets hurt and is informed that there will be a lot of scarring. It’s follows him through his struggle of insecurity regarding the scars and his acceptance. - it’s pouring out here ; shizuumi151

Kirishima is on a basketball team with Bakugou and he is the team captain. Kirishima has a crush on him and they have a little run in after getting caught in the rain. - 2am Knows All Secrets ; Unbreakable_red_riot

OH MY GOSH THIS FIC!! I really love the concept of Bakugou having nightmares about Kamino and the author does an amazing job at showing his difficulties with them. Kirishima keeps waking up to loud noises from Bakugou’s room and goes to scope it out; resulting in a few sleepovers... -  Shitty Hair and Shitty Nightmares; honest_pebble

(I have so many nightmare fics oops!) Bakugou is struggling with nightmares and Kirishima is a good friend and helps while Bakugou figures himself and his feelings out.

- a heart swelled to bursting ; eggstasy

This fic literally stole my heart and has to be one of my favorites. It’s the next summer and they are back at the training camps, but Bakugou has been repressing some worries. It’s a very Bakugou centric story, following him dealing with PTSD with help from other characters. - Let Me Save You ; lovelylittlefruit

A short story showing the after effects of a battle where Kirishima saved Bakugou. This is more angst/conflict than fluff but I do still recommend it!! - safe & sound ; Authoress 

This one made my heart SO happy and soft jeez ahaha. Bakugou has to be kept in a safe house after Kamino because of more threats and Kirishima is his comfort buddy. - not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all ; theroyalsavage 

AAAA!!! It’s a “10 Things I Hate About You” AU and its REALLY good even if you haven’t seen the movie. Very sweet and the character personalities are done really well. - heart stains on the carpet ; cityboys 

THIS STOLE ALL MY UWU’S AND MORE! Kirishima is Bakugou’s live in body guard who got a little closer to him than he had planned. Very cute and has some of the best dialogue I’ve read in a fic. Definitely goes with my favorites. - how they got detention for a week ; eggstasy

Kirishima is determined to go out with Bakugou no matter how intimidating that may seem. Kaminari tries to stop him but it’s no use. I really enjoyed reading this and I loved how the authors incorporated the Bakuquad!! - How To Make Bakugou Katsuki a Decent Human Being ; keptein 

Kirishima is set on making Bakugou a nicer guy no matter what it takes. (Even if that means pulling a Pavlov on him) but along the way he catches feelings. - ten things i learnt about you ; tamacchannn 

A very soft fic about Bakugou realizing things that he likes about Kirishima. Made me gush quite a few times. - don’t count on me to tell you when ; newamsterdam // 

GOD I LOVE THIS ONE TOO. It’s set in the future when they are pro-heros. Kirishima come back to see Bakugou and confess his feelings, but they end up just being friends with benefits for awhile. Very well written - do right by you ; kyoutimes

Kirishima and Bakugou are working together and Kirishima has a crisis about his sexuality. (There’s more to it than that but I don’t wanna spoil it :P) I loved the emotion in this AAAA - yes, you say you’d like to ; Authoress 

Kirishima invites a few friends to the beach, which eventually lead to THE WHOLE CLASS joining. He didn’t want to invite Bakugou, strictly because he didn’t want to get turned on at at the beach. - Kiss your knuckles before you punch me ; Claus_Lucas 

Bakugou saves Kirishima who is a boxer by lighting some of his own fireworks. I don’t know how much I can give away without spoiling it, but this is on my top three. While proud of Kirishima, Bakugou needs to remind him of his limits regarding his boxing career. - what he thinks he knows ; lovelylittlefruit 

Mainly Bakugou sided? It follows Bakugou as he realizes that there more to the assumptions he makes about his crush, Kirishima. It’s unfinished but I’m excited to see the rest soon!! - good to you ; Authoress

Takes place directly after Kamino. The two boys refuse to stop holding hands which leads to other conclusions. I love this sm, I had very soft moments and there’s a cute little twist that I LOVED at the end. - An obvious patch ; SweetScentences

Shinsou steals Bakugou’s eggs and Kirishima gets stabbed all the while. JK, there’s more to it than that,,, this is one of those fics I feel like it’s best enjoyed if you go in blind. I enjoyed every minute of this fic, laughed and teared up. - But for now, I’m with you; eikoexe 

A really goofy and cute texting fic!! Kirishima accidentally texts Bakugou thinking it’s Kaminari demanding a Dorito stealing confession. It’s still being written but I do love it very much so far. Read if you need a laugh!! (Sadly, it’s been over a year since the last update so I’m not expecting it to continue soon :()

-neon season; chonideno 

I really love this author jeez. It’s a road trip fic and these boys are very frustrated with their feelings toward each other (Mainly Bakugou lolololol) The way emotions are written is amazing and I fell in love with how they portrayed Kirishima and Bakugou. 

-the color red; ayadormouse 

G o d . . . This is like a coffee shop/college AU and it holds a lot of family angst for Bakugou. Bakugou is an artist and Kirishima is persistent in getting know the angry guy that doesn’t know how to order coffee. Heroes and quirks are more of an old myth/history type thing, but there still are mentions of it. 

-downhill; eggstasy 

Kirishima is a mom friend and loves learning small facts about his friends while in the dorms. This has almost every class 1-A character in it which I love because not a lot of authors write about some of the mpre minor roles. They play truth or dare and it gets out of hand.

-Of course I was worried; Ellieb3an

Kirishima gets hurt after his big fight in the manga (so there are spoilers) but he gets confused when Bakugou doesn’t visit him in the hospital and avoids him when he returns to the dorms. Bakugou is just a secret softy who was worried about his mans. I love seeing the softish side of Bakugou aaaa. 

-The Wild Side; Mishelledor23 

Kirishima and Bakugou are married and in Kirishima’s mind, everything is going great. Until, he wakes up one morning to see a letter and Bakugou’s wedding ring. My heart breaks for Kirishima in this one, and I’m so curious as to why Bakugou left. (It’s on going!) Kaminari and Mina are also present and go help Kiri with a mission. 

-Roses are red and they taste like shit; Unbreakable_Red_Riot 

A Bakugou hanahaki disease fic, this is also high on my favorites list. I couldn’t put it down for the life of me. Mutual pining eventually, but it focuses in mainly on Bakugou and his families way of dealing with the disease. 

-little are the things we learn; newamsterdam  

 The two boys never outright tell their class they are dating, but 5 of them figure it out and each one of them is stunned by their relationship. Perfect mix of angst and fluff, told from different characters perspectives as they see and analyze the two. 

- Detonate; theroyalsvage 

Bakugou is acting weird and a little insecure almost at a party he was invited to. Kirishima finds him on the roof and tries to figure the explosive boy out. 

-Trash Goblin Finds Love; wrunic 

Another coffee shop AU with a scientist Bakugou. This one made me giggle and the writing is so in character. I love how it ends and Kirishima is a big cutie in this one. 

-Radio Silence; doop_doop 

After getting hit with a coma quirk, Kirishima is bedridden and can’t move. Although his body is asleep, he can hear everything that is going on. So naturally, his friends visit him as much as possible to keep the guy entertained. But Bakugou realizes there’s something more to his feelings for Kirishima. (this shit is so cute, Bakugou reads to him)

-one to ten; crunchrapsupreme 

Kirishima wants to ask Bakugou out, but Kaminari demands that he becomes friends with him first. So Kirishima sets out to become a ‘Level 10’ friend to Bakugou. (This one is also very cute, Bakugou is a cat lover and it makes me melt.)

-out of sight, within reach; Poteto 

Gahhhh oblivious mutual pining makes me w e a k… Bakugou realizes he loves Kirishima while dragging his drunk body back to his house. Jealousy and miscommunication from both sides until there is an emergency and Bakugou drops his grudge.

-i’m a mess but you’re still here; Dreaming_of_Fairys

Kirishima notices that Bakugou is struggling after failing the licensing exam. And while he wants to be there for his friend, he realizes he has deeper than platonic feelings. Bakugou isn’t very open to receiving help from Kirishima regardless. I like the authors take on how Bakugou’s outlashes are described. This one is unfinished but I’m excited for more!

-It’s Not Living (If It’s Not With You); writingboom

This is one of my favorite 3 fics at the moment. It’s a band AU where Bakugou is captivated by the red-head on stage. His attraction doesn’t stop when he meets him backstage either. There is SO MUCH FLUFF OMG. But also a good amount of angst and tension. All the good stuff. I highly recommend. 

-Undoable Devotion; Haarhus and Honey227

This is a fic that two of my friends are working on! Bakugou lives alone as a hunter but begins to worry when the forrest seems to be lacking resources. Having to venture far out to get food, he stumbles upon the most enhancing red stag he’s ever seen. Even though I’m slightly biased because I know the creators, I absolutely l o v e the plot and writing style. It’s under 20,000 words right now so it’s a good time to start it.

-things soft and precious; gloop

ADORABLE MY GOD. It’s Kirishima and Bakugou falling in love through Mitsuki’s perspective and it fills my heart with so much love AH. Kirishima is a big ol’ dork and Bakugou is still as emotionally stuck as ever. I love the pacing and the different take on perspective. Would read again. 

-quote love unquote; newamsterdam

I’m pretty sure most people have heard of this one if not read it. It’s more or less THE Kiribaku fanfiction right now. I love this author and a few of their works are already in this list but I seriously can’t get enough. Another band AU, but this time with Bakugou as a very famous actor. In meeting at a party, the two boys are getting closer and Bakugou’s sexuality is exposed publicly. Which of course, the only solution entails Kirishima as his new fake boyfriend. This story was always good, but then there were so many extra details and plot twists AH. It’s lengthy, but I was so into it I finished it very fast. 

-Sun Sets Red; Shippeh

OK another one of my top 3 at the moment. Words cannot express my love for this fic lmao, it deserves all the praise it’s been getting. Kirishima winds up being a roommate to Midoriya and that includes Bakugou stopping in. There’s a lot more than what meets the eye regarding Bakugou and Kirishima figures that out very quickly. The bakusquad is strong in this one and there’s lots of angst but plenty of love. I don’t know what it is, but the emotion in the writing is phenomenal and this will be a forever favorite. 

-Infamous; AnotherWordForWeird// 

Bakugou is a hated singer. His brash attitude wasn’t the problem. It was the fact that he had attacked a lady and since then been nothing but a nuisance to the public. He considers taking his life, but hangs on when a certain redhead seems to not be aware of his fame. So, when interacting with Kirishima, he tries to lie and keep his identity of being the infamous “Ground Zero” a secret. But, Kirishima has a secret of his own. He’s internet sensation “Red Riot”, the mysterious new singer without a face to his name. This one is not finished, I am looking forward to see what direction the author takes the story!!

 -Crocs, Fate and REO Speedwagon; Hope_Neufield// 

O H MY GOD. This is the final of my three ATM favorites. This fic in its entirety blew me the fuck away. It trips me out how incredibly smart the author’s writing and planning is. Bakugou is in his twenties and he’s lost every ounce of hope he had in himself. He’s stuck at a job he hates and he lives in solitude with nothing but whiskey for comfort. So, one night, he tries to take his life. The angel Kirishima saves his life and promises him a second chance. TONS of angst LOADS of it. This one is nearly completed and I don’t know if I’m ready to let it go LMAO. I think this is the first fic I’ve re-read because I truly feel like I didn’t appreciate it enough the first time. PLEASE read this one. 

 -The Magic Song; Zacksy

A loose Cinderella AU that follows servant Kirishima. He finds a small pot of some sort of goopey substance. He is the only one able to open the jar, and before he knows, his hair is now red. His friends urge him to visit the banquet as his hair was more at a royal status and he bumps into Prince Katsuki. I read this one super fast because I enjoyed it so much the time just flew by. It’s a good fic for a bad day. 

-avian; chonideno

Bakugou didn’t want to spend his night in a crowded airport with tons of other people. He also didn’t want to spend it snuggled up to some obnoxious clingy stranger. I love chonideno’s writing so much, it’s so lovely and the style literally blossoms my heart. This one is on the shorter side, but I enjoyed every bit of it. 

-blisters; eggstasy

Bakugou has a way of building up his palm endurance. It was introduced by his father and it never faded. This fic is almost a character study in some elements, it puts Bakugou in a way I haven’t really seen. The couple-ly moments are adorable and OMG there’s some lines that just get to me. 

-Three Taps; Mintyboy

There’s something Kirishima can’t understand about a certain affection Bakugou gives. It’s just three small taps. This fic is short but it owns my whole heard GAHHH!!! I have found myself thinking about this piece of writing every so often, it sticks with you. 

-13 Things Best Bros Do Together (+1 Thing They Don’t); WhenJoshIsJoesph

This is “I love you no homo bro; The Fic”. Kirishima and Bakugou are very affectionate towards each other in a way that only happens in a romantic relationship. They seem to be the only ones aware of how strange they are acting, but sooner than later, they do something they know isn’t normal for friends and are forced to admit their true feelings. A cute fic that made me laugh and root for both of the boys. 

-Cause of Death; blueslove

Kirishima and Bakugou have been dating for a bit but they have yet to kiss. This is a short fic about warming up to a new relationship. Adorable, pretty much all fluff. I love it.

-2 A.M; cityboys 

Katsuki goes to work with his mother in rebranding a family restaurant. It’s his first long visit since his big move to Tokyo and he gets picked up from the station by a redhead he has never seen. Through the fic, Bakugou is challenged by his own feelings and overall loneliness. A question he’s asked by Kirishima is, “Do you have a 2 a.m?” GOD THIS FIC MADE ME EMOTIONAL PLEASE READ IT. There’s a really neat plot twist and a good mix of angst and fluff. I fully recommend. 

-Ransom in Red; Shippeh

Another semi-cinderella AU!!! This time, Kirishima sneaks into a party while Bakugou is trying to sneak out. They meet up, and eventually team up to get out of the place after Bakugou figures out Kirishima’s facade. When they do, Bakugou takes Kirishima to one of his favorite parts about being the prince. Their happy moment is soon interrupted and trouble follows them. I ALREADY LOVE THIS AUTHOR AND THE WAY THEY WRITE MY BOYS, But this fic is hella underrated it makes me s a d. Go read!!! 

Ok ngl I got real lazy and for now, I WILL JUST BE LISTING THE FICS WITH NO DESRIPTION LMAO WILL EDIT LATER. 

-Paper Machismo; Legendaerie

-things you said to me when you were scared; dearwormwood

-Fight Me; mr_todoroki

-done with having dreams (the thing that i believe) futurehearts

-Kids; degradedpsychotic

-Doubt; PurplePersnickety

-Soft Touches, Quiet Voices; beebuzz

-help me get out of my head; popcap

-a tenderness you can’t let go; punchmunk

-the world you keep erasing; Slumber

-Crow’s Feet; PotatoJesus

-My Ears Can’t Hear But My Heart Can; puraiuddo

-Take the world back from a heart attack; Claus_Lucas 

-this is getting kinda out of hands (this is getting kinda out of my head); multiclassmaps

-Letting You Lead Me Towards The Deep End; Uglysweater

-by that tree on the peak; shizummi151

-Rosy; mr_todoroki

-Crossfated; rashiisa

-you’ll have to take me down; pickledbrows

-Intertwined; DemiDivinedHero

-Red; mr_todoroki

-the fool’s rush; chonideno

-four feet, two hands; eggstasy

-I’m Curious (what happens when your lips meet mine?); Lulatic

-The Lessons of Flirting; CatoftheShadows

-just want your head on my shoulder; littlelionvanz

-Red Neon; Shippeh

-In the Age of the Social; singingdevil

-but i’ve got an angry heart; newamsterdam 

-Under The Same Stars; Unbreakable_Red_Riot

-Quietly; chezka

-like you’re running out of time, like you need it to survive; Slumber

-towards the light; noahczerns

-like stars burning holes right through the dark; multiclassmaps

-One Available Copy; EverythingandAnything

-Like Knives; All_My_Characters_Are_Dead

-Who do you love?; Canadiantardis

-Interpolation; deplore

-Sweet sixteen; Delitan 

-houdini; chonideno 

-It Will Find You Here; arxaris

-sunchaser; chonideno

-Wandering in the Shade; MomotoneScreaming

[broadwayandnetflix]

Just Hold Me - Richie Tozier x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Language (it’s IT)

Theme: Angst with increasing fluff towards the end.

Summary: After a distressing nightmare you keep thinking about one person in particular, Richie Tozier. What you don’t know yet is that he has been thinking about you as well.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: just a little note if you ever want to know something about me, inspiration for stories almost seem to come to me at the weirdest times. this one for example came at 2am and I poured this draft out into my phone hunched over a bowl of cereal. It had many grammatical errors, but nonetheless it was something. so there you have it, I saw IT 2 and thus came this.

You jolted awake with a gasp, panting heavily while you sat upright on your mattress. Quickly adjusting to the now pitch-black room, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed.

Eyes darting wildly about, thoughts racing, and palms sweaty. IT still haunted your dreams; there was no question about it. Usually, you could shut bad dreams out, as a justified figment of your imagination.

Except, when you see the potential love of your life, dead, and gutted out in front of you. What are you supposed to do? You know it’s just a dream, a silly dream, but no, it’s traumatic, even if he’s just down the hall.

You didn’t plan to come back to Derry; in fact, after twenty-seven years, you had come to forget the place. Forgetting its people, it’s buildings, aesthetics, and nooks and crannies that only you could pinpoint.

You knew you shouldn’t, but you felt in a strange sense, guilty. Mike poured everything into digging the lot of you out of a massive haystack, into fighting back something that was equally as big, and terrifying.

So even though the mere thought of catching up with old friends made you giddy, the harsh, crushing reality was that all of you were here for one reason, and one reason only.

To kill a demonic, possessed, and fucked up clown.

One in particular that craved for your fear, salivated about it even. So when it manifested into your dreams, you weren’t surprised, even if you were scared shitless.

It only just made you fret about the day ahead of you, knowing that there was work to do and that this was just the beginning.

Especially after last night’s scare in the restaurant, the lot of you dined at. It freaked you out even to consider remembering it, but one thing stuck out to you in particular.

Richie.

Something about seeing him again after all these years, just set you off, straight off. You almost didn’t even notice the fluttered increase within your heart or the way that you couldn’t seem to keep still when he made eye contact with you.

It brought back the waterfall of emotions that you had buried in grade school. The harbored crush that you kept for the trash mouth of a dork that he was. Despite Beverly’s attempts to assure you that he so desperately felt the same back then, you could never believe it. Not even now.

Except at this current moment, all you wanted was him, which was oh so pathetic. Just like the way you laughed like a literal hyena at his offhand quips and comments. Yes, while everyone rolled their eyes in annoyance, you giggled like a goddamn fool.

He made you feel dizzy like you had just finished a roller coaster only for it to jerk forward again.

If only you could just reassure yourself that he was alive, and well. It would help you sleep at night because these recurring nightmares of him dying weren’t helping.

You were so far down deep into your thoughts and criticism that you almost didn’t hear the slight knock at your door. The rustling of your sheets as you peered at your clock brushing you back into reality.

Who was knocking on your door at 3:45am?

Pushing yourself up, you trudge your way over, opening the door with a sour expression.

“How can I-“ you murmured only to stop once you were face to face with Richie himself.

Your jaw-dropping slightly, eyes wide, and now increasingly more alert than before, you swallowed.

He looked exhausted, his hair messy and bedridden, and his eyes focused on anything else but you.

“I, um,” he stammered, “I had an um, why is this so hard?” he whispered to himself. You looked back him blinking slowly wondering if you were still dreaming.

One pinch later, you weren’t.

“Listen, I had a bad dream about you, and I just really needed to check in on you,” he suddenly rushed out, his speech groggy, and jumbled.

Gaping, you stared back at him in surprise, definitely not expecting this outcome. Even more so, he was going through the same exact situation as you.

Well, not entirely, you presumed.

“Come on,” you gestured towards your bed while he trailed behind you.

Plopping yourself down onto it, you stared up at the ceiling, heaving a big sigh. Smiling shyly as Richie did the same, laying next to you.

“Me too,” you admitted after what felt like ages of silence, with only the slight hum of the ceiling fan to fill it.

“I’m sorry what?” he asked.

“I had a bad dream about you too,” you felt his gaze projected onto you now. The room now becoming too warm to your liking with the nerves that now tickled your skin.

“It’s weird, thirteen years old me would be having a stroke right now. You know, being on the same bed as Y/N Y/L/N,” he admitted randomly, causing you to turn over to face him.

He paused before continuing after a slight nudge of acknowledgment came from you.

“You wanna know something Y/N?” you nodded, “I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids. Isn’t that crazy?” he admitted softly.

You were at a profound loss for words like the air had been physically sucked out of you. This had to be some sort of joke, how could Richie like you. Not only that, you probably looked like an idiot, just laying there and not replying to him because you were so caught off-guard.

“God, I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry, I-“ he cringed, rubbing his hands over his face.

“No!” you yelped.

“No?”

“I just need a second,” you cried, he blinked sitting upright to face you. “I know it’s been a second, but I need more.” The smirk now resting upon his lips was not helping you as he watched you process it.

“I really like you, Richie, and I think I always have.” you breathed out. “I can’t believe I forgot you, I can’t believe I forgot this.” you fretted looking into his eyes, feeling more jittery than anything.

“Oh, thank god,” he huffed before flipping onto his stomach to face you more appropriately.

He paused as if something else had caught his attention, leaving him deep in thought. You couldn’t help but study the man in front of you, seeing the shell of his younger self still resting within him.

Of course, you had a chance to the night before and during the day, but it didn’t quite do him justice. He still had his fluffy mop of hair, his piercing blue eyes, and those awful, yet awkwardly cute glasses. Even in the dark, you still could see him, all of him.

He looked tired, but the way his eyes crinkled, or how his smile grew whenever he looked at you made you practically float.

And then you remembered why he was here, and your little cheeky grin disappeared instantly.

“What?” he wondered aloud.

“I just don’t want to do this, I don’t want to do tomorrow, I just want to close my eyes and sleep for however long this will take,” He looked at you ever so sympathetically, your vision now seeming to grow hazier by the minute.

“I don’t want IT to control my dreams, I don’t want to see you die, Richie. I just want to be able to sleep and not wake up in a cold sweat every night. I just wa-,” you were interrupted by his hands now intertwining with yours.

You exhaled shakingly, daring to meet his warming gaze, trying to distract yourself from the fact that your sweaty ass palms were encased in his.

“I wish I could say that things are going to be better. I mean, hopefully, they are, because if not, we’re fucked,” Richie began only to stop by the large snicker that erupted from you.

“What? I’m trying to be reassuring?” he smirked as he noted the little grin upon your expression.

“You don’t think a killer clown doesn’t constitute this situation as fucked up, to begin with?” you giggled.

“That’s beside the point Y/N, okay before I was rudely interrupted by you,” he squeezed your hands with more reassurance, “I was going to say you are one of the bravest and smartest people that I know. I mean even back then you were such a little shit, we, I loved you for it. If anyone can put Pennywise into his place, it’s you, we all know it.” he spoke his speech quick and jumbled, but it worked.

You practically melted under his gaze, fighting the urge to cower and make some lame counter-argument.

You just wanted to savor this moment, this exact moment where the only issue at hand is just a few bad nightmares.

Sighing, you reach out to reach his glasses, his breath going still while he watched. Peeling them off, you rolled over to put them onto your bedside table. Looking back at him, you gesture towards the side opposite of you on the bed.

“You wanna stay?” you whispered hesitantly.

Nodding, he makes his way over to the side opposite of you as you slide into the covers. His eyes never leaving yours while he mirrors your actions.

“Good because I don’t know if I would’ve been able to sleep peacefully without you here,” you admitted softly.

“Oh come here,” he soothes while pulling you closer to him, now enveloping you with him. “I’ll protect you, honey.” his words full of promise and safety.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For just being you.” you murmur already feeling sleep beginning to overtake you.

Just like that, for the first time in months, you didn’t have any IT controlled nightmares.

[the-family-fortune]

So last night I asked my server for suggestions on the Galochio fic I’m working on. They were very helpful.

DaisyYesterday at 11:38 PM

how do u get rid of the main villain of a story............ without actually getting rid of them in any effective way?? like i dont want to be "and then he walked away and was never a problem again" because. thats dumb. but i need something to that effect.

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:38 PM

u could kill him off

Sabrina || chasergirlYesterday at 11:40 PM

I need a little bit more information regarding plot before I can be of any help I think

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:42 PM

distract him with something else entirely?

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:42 PM

family emergency

turtleYesterday at 11:42 PM

Had a doctor’s appointment

SJ || gay theatre kidYesterday at 11:42 PM

eat him

sorry

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:42 PM

he gets sick and has to take a break

turtleYesterday at 11:42 PM

His magic fucked up and went to another dimension

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:43 PM

job pulls him to the complete opposite side of the world

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:43 PM

he took a cruise

turtleYesterday at 11:43 PM

He wanted a vacation

SJ || gay theatre kidYesterday at 11:43 PM

send him to brazil

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:43 PM

got a new phone and lost the protag's cell number

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:43 PM

he broke his teeth and needs to get that shit fixed cuz goddamn

DaisyYesterday at 11:44 PM

im SO glad i didnt give enough context in the first one these are all SUPERB. i did think abt killing him off in the final confrontation but i really dont want this 9 year old murdering her grandpa gjkfds. it COULD be an accident because his powers are big and unstable. 

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:44 PM

mild heart attack puts him out of commission for a while

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:44 PM

goes to antarctica

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:44 PM

coma

DaisyYesterday at 11:44 PM

FUCK

GOES TO ANTARCTICA WINS. I HATE THAT, THANK YOU.

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:45 PM

electrocution fucks up

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:45 PM

fjsjfjjs

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:45 PM

he gets killed

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:45 PM

but he gets better

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:45 PM

no?

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:45 PM

maybe the electrocution backfires and makes him bedridden for the rest of his life

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:45 PM

yeah

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:45 PM

if he wants

DaisyYesterday at 11:45 PM

he gets killed, but he gets better.........

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:45 PM

it happens

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:45 PM

"better" means "more haunted"

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:46 PM

thank you

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:46 PM

ye I gotchu

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:46 PM

grandpa piss ghost

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:46 PM

send him to the moon

DaisyYesterday at 11:46 PM

he IS Like. ancient. he's ALREADY missing one leg. it would not take much to put him out of commission, but also he's a cockroach.

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:47 PM

dont send him to the moon....

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:47 PM

honestly the first thing that came to mind was despicable me

when they sent fucking vector to the moon

DaisyYesterday at 11:47 PM

portal 2 for me

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:47 PM

moons getting crowded

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:47 PM

how many antagonists have gotten stuck on the moon? holy shit?

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:48 PM

Usagi the moon bunny has a prison for antagonists

SmolMuffinYesterday at 11:48 PM

Alright gonna write a massive crossover of villains on the moon/j

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:48 PM

maybe just... make him cry and have a breakdown or something idk

he cant do shit if he's in bed all day like me

SmolMuffinYesterday at 11:49 PM

Also for a idea im not too sure

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:49 PM

he can cry on moontarctica

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:49 PM

Daisy if this is your psy oc I think you can get pretty absurd with it

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:49 PM

the moon: now with snow

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:49 PM

cold moon.....

that's how they keep the cheese fresh

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:50 PM

maybe just smack him with a newspaper

or pour concrete on him just leave his head above the surface or smth

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:50 PM

y'all are on the moon, meanwhile I've got him forever bedridden like Charlie Bucket's grandparents

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:50 PM

mood

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:51 PM

except grandpa Joe I mean

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:51 PM

dude what if like some sort of freak accident happens that just fucking snipes him and makes him useless

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:51 PM

that bed? It's on the moon now

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:51 PM

oh to be an old lady and sleep on the moon...

DaisyYesterday at 11:51 PM

it is the psy OC!!! her grandpa SUCKS and he's genuinely the worst person ive ever written and he wont!! DIE!!!

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:52 PM

oh.... oh my god..... to be Wallace from the Wallace and gromit go to the moon and have cheese and crackers.

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:52 PM

ghagfdka;gh

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:53 PM

maybe you can send him on a wild goose chase

for forever

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:53 PM

daisy heres what you do ok. you uhhhhh wait for him to die of old age naturally and see what his will says in an exciting will-reading scene

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:53 PM

just continuously give him red herrings

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:53 PM

imagine I put quotes around exciting

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:53 PM

give this man a macguffin, slap him on the back and say "go get em"

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:53 PM

red herrings? Why not a very fun destination???

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:54 PM

dude sell his soul to whatever sort of dark power there is for a single corn chip

bonk him on the head so hard he becomes a toddler again

uhhh

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:54 PM

what's that app that sends you on adventures based on what you wanna find?

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:54 PM

geocache?

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:54 PM

bonk him on the head in general

aye i've done those before those are fun

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:55 PM

Pokemon go??

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:55 PM

not geocache but close

hang on I saw a vid of it recently

Randonautica

Sabrina || chasergirlYesterday at 11:55 PM

I mean... if you just have them be fidgety about it for a while... there doesn’t necessarily need to be an explanation now that I think about it

A lot of things could happen to him once he’s out of their sight that they might not end up hearing about

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:56 PM

send him to the mariana trench

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:56 PM

he steps away and gets hit by a bus a la Mean Girls

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:56 PM

all of the above

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:57 PM

theres a bus in  the mariana trench?

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:57 PM

theres about to be

Sabrina || chasergirlYesterday at 11:57 PM

Pfft... he starts to walk away and quartermaster shows up, hitting him with the bus, and just turns to the kids and goes “bus is here”

DaisyYesterday at 11:57 PM

the most ambitious crossover of all time....

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:57 PM

snipe him so fucking hard that theres a crossover

dude just take his knees

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:57 PM

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:57 PM

like just take them off

un-velcro his knees

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:58 PM

FUCK

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:58 PM

GOD

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:58 PM

bus in the trench

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:58 PM

THERES THE FUCKING BUS

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:58 PM

DAMMIT

BUS IN THE TRENCH

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:58 PM

TRENCHBUS GOTTEM

DaisyYesterday at 11:58 PM

well "bus in the mariana trench'' has clearly already been done >:T

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:58 PM

damn yeah

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:58 PM

make it a mack truck

DaisyYesterday at 11:58 PM

nothings original these days

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:59 PM

original trench vehicle do not steal

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:59 PM

give him a "mid-life" crisis and make him go soul searching or something

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:59 PM

exactly! you can use mariana trench bus

Sabrina || chasergirlYesterday at 11:59 PM

Ok, but back to serious answers: they could possibly read in the newspaper about him being arrested for something seemingly unrelated but that they and the readers may be able to connect the dots to some sinister thing he was attempting to do to them somehow?

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:59 PM

he gets sniped byh miss frizzle eastAugust 17, 2020

DaisyToday at 12:00 AM

OH WAIT FUCK UR RIGHT

THE WHOLE 

yall.

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:00 AM

let him realize that the most important lesson here is friendship

DaisyToday at 12:00 AM

im so fucking stupid

the WHOLE STORY. IS ABOUT HOW HES BEING INVESTIGATED BY THE PSYCHIC FBI

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:00 AM

friendship saves the day....

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaToday at 12:00 AM

theres only one braincell in this server its okay we're all just taking turns with it

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:00 AM

GHHGHAHG;GHRR

Sabrina || chasergirlToday at 12:00 AM

LMFAO

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:00 AM

THEY GOTTEM

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:01 AM

FBI stands for Friendship Bureau of Investigation

DaisyToday at 12:01 AM

i was SO FOCUSED ON THE END SCENE I FORGOT IT WAS CONNECTED TO A STORY........

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:01 AM

LAYS IS THE TRENCHBUS DRIVER

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:01 AM

uwu

Sabrina || chasergirlToday at 12:01 AM

“How do I eliminate this character being pursued by the fbi?” “My first option is to have him be murdered by children but I’d prefer not to have to resort to that”

I love it

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:01 AM

ngfdk;sgkfag;f

we all out here trying to play cabin in the woods with this old man

DaisyToday at 12:02 AM

never once did i claim to be clever

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:02 AM

and he would've gotten away with it too if it wasnt for this meddling government agency

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:03 AM

thus ends the saga of grandpa piss

DaisyToday at 12:03 AM

i am going to CRY this has been an adventure holy SHIT

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:04 AM

he sure did go a lot of places

spry old fucker

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:04 AM

I wonder how many trench buses he had to wait for

DaisyToday at 12:04 AM

you'd think at like 89 with one good leg he wouldn't get around as much but here we are

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:05 AM

he was probably rolling around in that bed 8T

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:05 AM

you can go anywhere with a bus pass and a sense of adventure

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaToday at 12:05 AM

can we make that zero good legs? i have a nice crowbar right here i can use

DaisyToday at 12:05 AM

BE MY GUEST

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaToday at 12:05 AM

im gonna put this man in a walmart scooter

kiss your knees goodbye

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:06 AM

(dont stop tho he has more trenchbuses to get hit by)

Theo || teddy assigned mormonToday at 12:08 AM

[artificialqueens]

colour me blue, chapter two (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | word count: 7947

AN: Thank you so much for the wonderful feedback on the first chapter! This one’s going to be a short story, only one more chapter after this. Hope you enjoy. Writ remains the best ever for betaing and encouraging me throughout writing this, and this story would absolutely not exist without them <3

“-She’d taken off her nasal prongs, the reduction in oxygen saturation could have been fatal-”

“-transferring without a two person assist, especially as a falls risk is extremely dangerous, not to mention that she’d refused any orientation or training with the wheelchair beforehand-”

“-honestly Vanessa, you put not only your life on the line, but you scared the entire team, we were this close to calling a code yellow and starting a manhunt across the entire hospital-”

“-Mija, your father didn’t leave us just so you could act so irresponsible-”

Vanessa wants to scream, drown out all the voices that are threatening to overtake her brain and never let her think straight again.

“Fuck.”

She lets it drop under her breath, barely hearing the words being said around her that are blurring into a grey cloud above her head.  The ones from her healthcare team and her mom as they try to lecture her about things that they just don’t fucking get.

They don’t know what it’s like to be trapped in a bed, too weak to move and be a part of things and actually live for once. They’re all able to leave the hospital behind, head home once they’re done their shifts or visits and compartmentalize, because they’re not tied to the building. They don’t understand the feeling of being so dependent on others, so out of control about their own lives.

They don’t get it.

Vanessa her hands into fists as Nina starts fretting about ‘potential complications with the medications because of the lack of oxygen support’ and the pain radiating in her palms from her nails digging into her skin is grounding, somehow. Reminding her that she’s still here, she’s alive. Even though she’s stuck in an ‘emergency family meeting’ that’s been called for her, as if she’s a criminal or something.

As if not complying to hospital recommendations exactly how they want her to makes her deviant.

She doesn’t want to be here anymore. What’s the point, if she’s not going to be here much longer, if she’s not going to move up the waitlist for a new heart, if she’s going to keel over like her dad before she ever gets one? If she has to spend the entirety of her existence following the directions of others who’ll never understand what everything is like?

“I’m leaving. I’m out.”

The table goes comically silent once the words leave her lips, as everyone turns towards her with wide eyes.

Nina speaks first. “Vanessa, what do you-”

“I’m going. I don’t wanna be in the hospital anymore, I don’t care.” She doesn’t need to stay here to stay alive. She can do it on her own, she can leave.

“Don’t be stupid.” Her mom snaps in her direction, and it makes Vanessa bristle, because she’s not being stupid, she’s not. She’s just fucking tired.

“Why can’t y’all see it? There’s no point, I ain’t getting better anytime soon.” The words make her swallow hard because of their finality, the weight of their meaning and how true they feel.

Vanessa’s not getting better.

Her mom’s looking at her like she wants to argue and Nina’s eyes are full of sympathy and Vanessa’s never hated it more.

Vanessa continues because no one at the table says anything, none of the nurses or doctors because really, what are they going to tell her? That she’s getting better?

Even Vanessa’s more realistic than that.

“I’m stuck here and can’t leave my bed and can’t even do anything I wanna, while everyone else is getting better and leaving all around me. Why do I gotta spend my end in a hospital bed?” Vanessa can’t stop her voice from breaking at the end and it makes her mad, the way she has to wipe tears that are beginning to form.

“You’re not at your end, Vanessa. I understand how it can feel like that, how things haven’t been improving. But that doesn’t mean that they won’t in the future. We still have more things we can try-”

“They ain’t going to work. We know that. Nothing does. Unless y’all got a spare heart to give me but we know that ain’t possible.” She lets out a bitter laugh.

There’s a finality of sorts, when one accepts their own mortality. Realizing that they’re not going to be around forever, that their time is limited.

Vanessa’s heart already feels like it’s taking some of its last beats.

She’s not sure how she can tell. Maybe it’s the way that it lays so heavy in her chest, a sign that it was never, ever meant to work. A sign that she was never meant to be here for a long time in the first place.

Vanessa’s calm. It doesn’t make her want to cry, or scream about how unfair it is. It’s a bittersweet acceptance that lets her relax, stop fighting for once in her life.

Though Nina doesn’t let her have it for long.

“Maybe we should hold off a couple more days, see what else we can do. Then we can have another meeting, talk through some other options if you don’t want to stay here.” Nina reaches out, grabbing her hand, and Vanessa can feel her resolve crumbling because the woman is too convincing for her own good. “Is a few days okay, Vanessa? Just a few.”

Nina’s looking at her with big googly eyes and her mother’s looking at her with a death glare, and the rest of the healthcare team looks like they really want to have their lunch. But it’s nice to be in control of the cards for once, be the one who gets to make a decision rather than having one made for her.

A sense of control that she never gets.

“Fine. A couple of days, but that’s it.”

She doesn’t want to give more of herself to the hospital if she doesn’t have to.

Brooke is biting at her lip when Vanessa is finally, finally wheeled back into her room. Vanessa tries not to look at Brooke as the nurses help her back into her bed, tries to ignore the burning that she feels from her worried gaze.

Brooke, for her part, waits until the nurses have shut the door behind them, shifting in her bed to face her properly. Vanessa wants to close her eyes, brace herself against the questions that she knows are coming.

“You’re really sick.”

“And?” Vanessa runs a hand through her hair, trying to ignore the way her fingers catch on her nasal prongs.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It’s not accusatory, per se, but Vanessa can hear the desperation, the hurt in Brooke’s voice, over the fact that she didn’t know.

“Does it matter?”

Vanessa so, so badly, wants it not to matter. Wants it all to go away, wants to be someone who heals. Who isn’t bound to the hospital with an iron chain around her ankle.

But she’s going to be orbiting it for the rest of her damn life.

Vanessa feels helpless, stuck. Physically, she is. She can’t leave for anywhere on her own, doesn’t have the strength to. So, what does it matter? What does it matter that she didn’t tell Brooke?

Just because she has to be resigned to her life doesn’t mean that others have to, as well.

“Yes, it does!” Brooke’s voice breaks and Vanessa finally looks over, stops fiddling with the thin sheets that drape over her form, and Brooke’s expression is a mixture of anger and pain both. “You’re doing things that are risky and could hurt you and-”

“Didn’t see you complaining when we went down to the cafeteria.” Vanessa crosses her arms, grumbles because it isn’t fair, Brooke isn’t being fair, not when she’s the one person who’s supposed to be on her side.

“Because I didn’t know that you were so sick that you practically need a new heart. That’s not a normal level of heart problems, that’s being-at-death’s-doorstep level of heart problems and you don’t even seem to care.” Brooke’s looking at her with that face that she gets from most people in her life, one full of sadness and anger and pity and Vanessa hates it.

“What clued you in? The extra oxygen? Me not being able to use a walker anymore?” Vanessa lets out a bitter laugh as she says it, shaking her head. “Being basically bedridden?”

“You could have told me.” The words are quiet, from Brooke’s lips. Vanessa looks over and she’s looking down at her own sheets and she sounds so defeated and the twisting in Vanessa’s chest is not entirely coincidental.

“And have you look at me with that same face you’re making right now? I see the pity there. I see it from everyone.” Vanessa crosses her arms. “I hate it. I don’t need your pity.”

She really doesn’t. Others giving her sympathetic looks that amount to ‘sorry that you’re dying’ feel pathetic. Useless.

“I’m not-” Brooke lets out a frustrated sigh and Vanessa can see the way her brow furrows before she continues. “I’m not pitying you, don’t you get it? I’ve been on this side, I get what it’s like to be almost at death’s door.”

“You don’t. You don’t get it.” Vanessa wipes at the stray tear along her lashes with more force than she needs to. “It’s not the same.”

“Like hell it isn’t.” Brooke’s mad, and Vanessa can’t help the way her own voice rises in response, ready to argue.

“You ain’t been stuck with that shitty appendix your whole life, worrying about it all crashing down eventually. This was just a freak thing that happened to you. And look at you.” Vanessa gestures to Brooke, at the way she’s able to sit up without any help. “You’re getting stronger, you’re gonna leave soon. So no, it’s not the same.”

“So then why shoulder that burden by yourself? Why pretend like not much is wrong when it clearly is?” Brooke’s pleading, her eyes wide and no matter how much Vanessa doesn’t want it, she can already feel the way her resolve is beginning to crumble, the way it seems to do with Brooke.

“Because everyone leaves!” The words are out before Vanessa can stop them and no, no, no, she wasn’t supposed to say them but now she can’t take them back, no matter how quickly she claps a hand over her mouth.

But it’s true. Everyone leaves for good at some point, never to come back. Her mom and the rest of her family. Her friends. Her coworkers. Leaving Vanessa alone with the four blank walls and endless beeping machines for company.

Because everyone else is busy living their own lives, right?

Vanessa shouldn’t be the one to keep them from doing so.

Brooke’s going to leave. Vanessa knows that now, knew it a couple days back, too. They’d been discussing a discharge date for Brooke during morning rounds since her surgery had been successful, and she’s on the path towards healing. She’ll be just fine real soon.

And it’s fine, it really is. Brooke is going to leave, go back to her shitty apartment in the city and her two cats that are also her phone background. She’s going to go back to her position in the corps and back to ballet, back to pushing her heart harder and harder as she dances, in a way that Vanessa will never be able to do with hers.

There’s no reason for Brooke to stay, no matter how desperately Vanessa wants there to be.

Vanessa’s not selfish. She’s not an anchor that’s going to pull Brooke down with her, keeping her from going after her dreams and living her own life. Because Brooke deserves better than that.

Despite the fact that Brooke seems to disagree, by the disbelief lining her furrowed brow and parted lips.

“I’m not.”

“You shouldn’t feel obligated-”

“How can you say that?” Brooke’s looking at her with wide eyes as she fists her hands in her sheets, and Vanessa can feel every beat of her own heart, every gasp from her lungs. “After all of this?”

“After what?” Vanessa can feel a lump in her throat and she’s not going to cry, she’s not, she doesn’t need it right now, not in front of Brooke. “Being stuck with me ‘cause we’re hospital roommates? You telling me that nothing’s gonna change after you’re discharged? When you can go back to your life and I’m still here, the way I’m always gonna be here? You telling me that?”

Brooke’s going to go back to her life. Vanessa’s going to be left behind. It’s not Brooke’s fault, not Vanessa’s either.

But it’s happened with everyone. It’ll happen with Brooke, too.

“I-”

“You’re gonna get to go back, Brooke. I won’t.” The finality of the words don’t make Vanessa wince, don’t make her upset. Because the words are simply the truth.

“But I’m not.” Brooke’s jaw is set, even though her hands are shaking and Vanessa wants to reach out and grab them, hold her steady, despite the fact that she’s being stupid.

“What do you mean, you’re not?”

“Ness, you’re-” Brooke’s jerky, halting, not looking as her as she pauses, not as if she’s trying to figure out what to say, but rather as if she’s trying to get the words to leave her mouth. “It doesn’t matter if I’m getting discharged. I’m not-”

Brooke cuts herself off, drawing in a breath and Vanessa can see the pleading behind her eyes, but it doesn’t make sense. So she pushes her more.

“You’re not what?”

“I’m not leaving you, okay? Even once I’m discharged I’m gonna be in that chair beside your bed, I’m gonna be here on evenings and weekends ‘cause I’m not leaving you.” Brooke’s so convinced of what she’s saying that she’s leaning over in her bed, scooting closer towards Vanessa, an earnest expression on her face.

Except that the words aren’t placating; instead, they make Vanessa want to shut her eyes tight, real tight. There’s a part in her heart that so very desperately wants them to be real. For what Brooke is saying to actually happen.

Except Vanessa knows that it won’t. They’re empty words now, words that Brooke will forget once she’s back at home and is dancing again and not even thinking twice about her hospital stay after she’s all healed. When Vanessa will only be a blink in her memory of the entire ordeal.

So the words instead feel like thorns, sharp and stinging along Vanessa’s chest and prickling without drawing blood, ones that taunt and tease her. She wants to pull them out, throw them far  away from her where they can’t hurt her heart more than they already have.

Vanessa, until recently, has kept her heart safe. She’s been okay with people leaving, expects it. But now? Brooke dangling a promise of her not leaving, one which she won’t want to even keep later?

It makes Vanessa mad.

“Don’t promise shit you can’t keep.” The words drop from Vanessa’s lips like poison, letting her keep Brooke at arms length, like she should be.

Brooke narrows her eyes. “You think I won’t?”

“I know you won’t.”

It’s a lie, because she doesn’t, because what if Brooke stays, what if she comes back to visit?

But Vanessa isn’t willing to take the risk of hoping and hoping and wishing and then being disappointed. Her heart is faulty enough.

“You don’t know shit.” Brooke crosses her arms and it isn’t fair, the way she looks hurt, it’s not. Because what does Brooke have to be hurt over?

“What don’t I know?” Vanessa knows plenty. She knows that nothing is forever, not even roommates that make her forget, sometimes, how much her chest feels like it’s caving in on itself, how much her body feels like it’s on its last legs. She knows that everyone has more important things to do than sit at a sick girl’s bedside, including Brooke.

“That I actually care about you, despite the fact that you seem to think I don’t.”

“I never said that-”

“You really think I’m gonna just leave?” Brooke’s voice is small, and Vanessa hates how much it’s affecting her. How much she doesn’t want Brooke to leave and never come back, either. But she knows what’s going to happen in the end.

“Everyone does.”

It’s true. And there’s nothing Vanessa can do about it.

“I’m not everyone.” Brooke’s looking at her with such an intensity that Vanessa wants to believe the words. Have them be true, have a chance where Brooke and her get to stay this close.

She wants it so bad.

But Brooke’s right. Brooke isn’t everyone. Brooke is…sunlight in their dreary hospital room, her smile enough to pull Vanessa out of her thoughts every time. Brooke is the way she gasps during their Great British Bake Off marathons, so caught up in the competition that she lets out little cheers every time her favourite contestant does well. Brooke is the content expression on her face whenever she shows Vanessa pictures of her cats, tells her stories about the funny things they love to do.

Brooke’s different from any other roommate she’s had, and Vanessa’s scared of how much she’s begun to matter to her. She’s taken more of Vanessa’s heart, her stupid malfunctioning heart, more than she wants to admit.

“You’re right. You ain’t everyone.” The admission is freeing, in a way. Brooke’s light and drive and the way she melts over certain things make her so special, so quintessentially Brooke. Someone who doesn’t deserve to be hung up over a person like Vanessa, someone who’s expiry date is a lot earlier than everyone else her age.

Brooke deserves better.

“And you aren’t, either, Ness.” Vanessa can see the affection in Brooke’s eyes, and half of her loves it, craves it. Wants Brooke to snuggle in closer to her, bridge that gap between them. But the other half of Vanessa knows how dangerous it can be to care for someone whose very existence isn’t guaranteed.

Vanessa remembers the way her mother became a shell of a person after her father’s death. The way she’d kept his favourite flannel around her shoulders, kept the photo album from happier years in her lap and held onto it like it was a lifeline. Like it would bring him back, while letting everything else around her fall to pieces, into dust.

Maybe it’s better if she and Brooke don’t become closer. In case, just in case things go south, and she leaves Brooke by herself to deal with the aftermath.

Vanessa doesn’t want Brooke to suffer too.

“B, I’m-” Part of Vanessa is trying to hold her back, stop from continuing, because she likes Brooke, dang it, and has someone in her life that thinks that she matters, and why is she going to try and ruin it?

But the other half of her knows it’ll be better for Brooke, in the long run.

“I’m really sick.”

Brooke doesn’t even flinch. “No shit. Pretty sure the entire ward heard the yelling in your emergency family meeting.”

Vanessa lets out a huff, because Brooke’s not actually getting it. “No, like really sick. Waiting for my own damn mortality to punch me in the face-type sick.”

“So?” Brooke raises an eyebrow, as if it’s a challenge.

“You don’t - you don’t wanna see that. Trust me. It’s downhill from here, it ain’t gonna be pretty. It’s gonna be me and a bunch of tubes against the world. It’s gonna be shitty.”

The reality of it is starting to set in more and more for Vanessa with each laboured breath she takes, every phantom pain that tugs along her body. She really is shutting down.

Brooke shoots her a look. “If this is some half assed attempt to push me away, it’s not working.”

Vanessa huffs, ignoring the way she’s beginning to feel a little lightheaded, a little tired from so much talking. “I ain’t joking. I ain’t gonna be like this all the time. It’s gonna keep getting worse and you shouldn’t have to watch-”

“You think me magically leaving you right now is somehow going to make that easier? For me or you?” Brooke sits up in her bed, her voice raising a little along with the disbelief written along her face, the furrow of her brow. “You think trying to cut me out is going to solve anything?”

Vanessa scowls. “It’s not like that.” It’s not. Brooke’s missing the point, that if they stay close she’s going to suffer, that she’s just going to make it worse for herself in the long run.

“Like hell it isn’t. You’re trying to protect me from something that may not even happen. And even if it does, you think I’d even want to stay away in the first place? That I wouldn’t want to be beside you the entire time?” Brooke says the words like they’re obvious, as if there isn’t anything she’d rather do. Which makes it just a little bit harder for Vanessa to try and drive her point home.

“You have your own life, B. A normal life. It ain’t this.” Vanessa points to the monitors behind her, wincing as she does because when did lifting her arm up slightly cause so much pain?

“My life is dancing for most of the day and stumbling home to a wet basement apartment with only my cats for company. It’s always just been pushing myself in ballet at the expense of everything else, letting it all go because ballet is supposedly worth it.” Brooke looks at Vanessa with those eyes that she can never tell if they’re grey or blue and Vanessa sees a mountain of unspoken words behind them. “But then I met you, and the appendix issues and near-sepsis and other infections my body was going through stopped mattering, none of the pain or extra surgeries mattered anymore.”

Brooke takes a deep breath before continuing, fiddling with her hands. “Because I’ve never laughed as much as when we’re joking around, never had as much fun as when we watch things together. Never told anyone as much about myself, let anyone else in like I’ve let you.”

Vanessa remembers back to one night a few weeks ago, when the two of them had stayed up until the early hours of the morning, whispering to each other so as not to disturb the nurses. Talking about their pasts, their futures. Where they wanted to go, what they wanted to do if they ever had the chance. Brooke had listened to Vanessa attentively when she brought up the idea of connecting with her dad’s side of the family again. Convinced her that it wasn’t a stupid idea, that she should do it.

Brooke’s already entrenched herself in Vanessa’s life through the way their memories and thoughts have become ensnared like vines, making it impossible for them to let go of each other.

But the longer Brooke spends close to Vanessa, the more it’s going to hurt her.

“I’m not here forever, B. The laughing and jokes and TV shows and late night talks are gonna be temporary. One day it’s all gonna end, and you’re gonna be left with nothing. I don’t want you to get blindsided by it.” Vanessa rubs at her temples, tries to will away the headache blooming behind her skull that’s making her feel a little dizzier than usual.

“I want the good days, sure. But the bad days, too. Someone to be there - don’t tell me you don’t need it, ‘cause I don’t care - when things feel low. When the rounds don’t sound promising. When a certain medication isn’t working anymore. For all of it.” Brooke reaches out a hand across the bed, close enough for Vanessa to reach. Vanessa has to grab the bed railing with her other hand to keep herself steady as she reaches for Brooke’s, tries not to give into the spots darkening on the sides of her vision.

Brooke squeezes her fingers and the pressure pulls her back down, keeps her head from exploding just yet. Vanessa takes a deep breath, in through her nose, out of her mouth. She’s not sure why it’s worse all of a sudden, why Brooke’s voice sounds a little warped. But she keeps listening.

Even though something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

“You don’t have to protect me from you. That’s not your job-”

“Brooke.” Vanessa pulls a gasp in, tries to fill up her lungs because they feel empty, too empty, like she has no oxygen left in her body.

The monitors above her are speeding up but the beeping is far away, like it’s in a different room, and so is Brooke’s voice (‘Ness? Ness!’), especially when she yells out for a nurse with a voice so hysterical that Vanessa wants to reach out and comfort her. Not that she can, by the way her lungs are clawing for air, the way her chest is burning up from her shoulder to her heart, the way her arms are tingling like they’re on fire. She’s warm, too warm, her forehead becoming damp with sweat because she can feel her heart pushing itself, on its last legs, trying to keep her going, but-

Oh, god.

Vanessa’s staved it off for thirteen years, kept her shitty heart pumping for thirteen whole years, but it hasn’t been enough, not nearly enough. Because she’s twenty-six in a hospital bed and so close, so close to a new heart that she won’t have the chance to receive, not anymore.

She’d been so close. Fuck.

Staying awake and hanging on is too hard, too much of a task to try and push her body to do, even with doctors and nurses pressing down with hard compressions on her chest while yelling about calling a code blue. And so Vanessa lets thoughts of Brooke’s hair and the way she so desperately wants to run her hands through it take her over until there’s-

Nothing at all.

The first time Vanessa had been put under was when she was six and had her tonsils taken out. She’d forgotten most of it aside from the aftermath of ice cream and endless reruns of The Magic School Bus, the show just a little much for her addled brain to follow. She’d gone back to school a few days later with no problems at all, the haze of anaesthesia from the surgery remembered the same way as her nightly dreams - just a little bit out there, a little bit nonsensical. Nothing that had stuck in her brain for too long.

As she got older, anaesthesia simply became a part of her life. Necessary for the surgeries as doctor after doctor tried to find solutions to keep her alive, none of which lasted, her heart falling back into disarray each time. She’d gotten used to it - being in and out of it after a procedure, waiting for her brain to become less and less foggy with time until everything went back to normal.

Back then, it was never unending.

Vanessa sees Brooke’s face a lot. Brooke dancing, despite the fact that she’s never seen it in person, only on Brooke’s phone screen. Brooke as a dancer in the corps, Brooke performing as a prima ballerina and spinning round and round and round, dancing in a way Vanessa can only dream of. Her final bow is graceful, a demure smile on her face as she waves to the crowd.

Vanessa wonders what it would be like, being the one to bring Brooke a bouquet of flowers at the end of a show.

She sees her dad, too, but the memories are fleeting, blurry. Little snapshots, like the time they went to the carnival along with her mom and he rode all of the rickety rides with her. The way her dad would take her to get ice cream after church on Sundays, and they’d sit outside the shop and eat on the bench while people watching. How her dad would always lift her up, sit her on his shoulders whenever she was a little too sleepy, a little too tired to walk anymore.

She sees glimpses of his funeral too, the way the priest had pronounced his last name (their last name) wrong.

Though the pictures fade as quickly as they come, the pain not sticking around long enough to have a chance to burn her soul.

Vanessa sees images from now, too. Or at least, what could be now. Beeping noises that never quite fade, ones boring into her skull that she wishes she could turn off. Hushed conversations, doctors and nurses talking about LVADs and the transplant list, but she can’t get her brain to focus, to tune in for long enough to know if it’s even real, or just another dream.  

She hears Brooke’s soft voice whispering to her (which surely, surely must be a dream), a light squeeze on her hand as Brooke tells her about the woman in the room across from them, about how her nurse is going on a date tonight, about how the neuro resident has a crush on the unit clerk. About how much Vanessa needs to be okay, needs to get better, because Brooke-

Vanessa never hears the end of her sentence, because Brooke always cuts herself off when she gets to that part.

There are times when Vanessa starts feeling every little pain in her body, when everything becomes real and tangible and she’s suddenly aware of the wires along her arms, the tube down her throat that’s taken over her breathing, and it’s too much, too much to handle when she tries to move and nurses begin to yell about pain meds and-

It never lasts for long, though, her mind wiping itself clean of the here and now and going back to broadcasting pictures of Brooke and the way she smiles.

Vanessa’s too small right now, in Brooke’s eyes.

The tube down her airway that’s keeping her alive looks like it’s taking up her entire face, while the IV lines in her arms are too big, too invasive. Like all the wires around her are going to drown her, kill her instead.

Brooke would be convinced that they are, were it not for the monitors behind Vanessa’s bed, the ones displaying her vital signs and signalling that she’s still very much alive.

Somehow.

Brooke wants to close her eyes, forget that all of this is happening and somehow just go back to their shared hospital room, before she’d been discharged and before Vanessa had collapsed with wide eyes and gasping breaths. When everything had been a little bit more normal.

Normal for them, at least.

But when Brooke closes her eyes now, all she can see is the way that the nurse had been pushing down hard on Vanessa’s chest, doing compressions that looked like they were crushing rather than reviving her. All she can hear is the flatline of the monitors, the rush of footsteps of the code blue team to their room. The way they’d intubated Vanessa right then and there. The way Brooke had been frozen in place, gripping her sheets so tightly that she’d nearly ripped them.

The way the bed beside her had been so empty without Vanessa after she’d been whisked away, the room a little bit too quiet.

The way Brooke hadn’t even known if Vanessa would still be alive.

The limbo was the worst. Vanessa had been in surgery, after the team had intubated and stabilized her and Brooke had been left in their room all alone, signs of Vanessa still lingering everywhere. The stack of romance novels on Vanessa’s bedside table, the ones Brooke had teased her for. The makeup beside them, all MAC because ‘imma take that employee discount, thank you very much’.

Being discharged had almost felt like a sense of relief, for Brooke. Being able to leave their room behind, one filled with laughter and affection for the girl who shared it with her, but also filled with fear. With the look on Vanessa’s face before she’d collapsed, the wide eyes and slightly parted lips that showed that she’d known what had happened.

The inevitable had finally arrived.

But it’s been three days, and she’s still here, Vanessa’s still here. Vanessa’s still alive. The hospital bracelet around Brooke’s wrist is gone, denoting that she’s healthy enough to survive on her own after the warpath her appendix had carved, but she’s still here. She’s not going to leave, not now.

She’d heard Dr. West talking about the transplant list, about how Vanessa’s urgent status has moved her up. How there’s a chance she can get a heart, how she won’t have to rely on an LVAD like she is right now.

Brooke so desperately wants it to be true.

“I miss you.” Brooke’s not sure where the words come from, why she whispers them as if Vanessa can hear them. Maybe she can, Brooke doesn’t know. But all Brooke knows is that she needs Vanessa back, because her own heart feels like it’s collapsing in on itself.

Part of her hates Vanessa. For keeping just how bad things are from her. For pretending that everything is fine and dandy while inching closer and closer to death’s door.

Vanessa had said that Brooke would leave, that she didn’t care enough. That Brooke should leave because she deserved better than seeing Vanessa deteriorate and it still makes her so mad, that Vanessa had thought that it would be the better option. That Vanessa had wanted to do it alone.

That Vanessa had thought Brooke would be able to leave her behind.

But Brooke can’t. She fucking can’t. She’s only known Vanessa for a couple of months, but it feels like it’s been so much longer, when she looks back at it. All the days and nights they’d spent together talking about everything and nothing had made Brooke fall hard, as much as she doesn’t want to admit it now.  

A couple months that had felt like a lifetime in their hospital beds.

She imagines what it would be like if they’d met somewhere outside, maybe at MAC. Brooke goes in there often to buy her favourite brow pencil and transition eyeshadow that she uses on stage, because the drugstore brands simply don’t cut it for those two items. She pictures going in, seeing Vanessa and her smile that never fails to light up a room.

God, she’d probably be head over heels for her right then and there.

Brooke pictures flirting with Vanessa over the makeup counter, asking her opinion on which shades look best on her. She can almost see how animated Vanessa’s face would be, talking about her favourite products in the store the way her face always had been when they’d had these conversations in their hospital beds.

Getting to know Vanessa outside of the hospital, away from the tubes and wires that reflected the breakdown of her heart. A scenario where they’d have endless time to get closer and closer because there wouldn’t be any time limits, not really. None holding them back.

To be fair, Brooke hadn’t known that their time right now would be so limited, either. That Vanessa would be intubated, on life support, with everyone else hoping and praying that the wires keeping her alive are working.

Brooke needs Vanessa back. She hasn’t even told Vanessa how much she cares about her, how important she’s become to her life and how is she going to keep going if Vanessa doesn’t pull through?

Brooke stares down at Vanessa’s sleeping form, her chest rising and falling methodically to the rhythm of the machine that’s filling up her lungs with oxygen. Vanessa’s closed eyes make Brooke realize that there’s a chance she may never see her eye roll again, or the way she sticks up one finger when she wants to interrupt her. Or that she may have to watch TV shows without Vanessa’s insane commentary.

Brooke buries the thoughts as far down as possible, because there can’t be a reality where she loses Vanessa. It can’t happen.

Somehow, Brooke’s heart has completely fallen for another person. One whose own heart could be the cause of her end at the ripe old age of twenty-six.

The way that life plays out its cards can be cruel. Leaving people like Vanessa with a short stick, a life too short that’s marred with uncertainty and a fight to stay alive.

The calmness in Vanessa’s face right now, as she’s out and sedated, makes Brooke realize just how weary Vanessa had become the last couple weeks. The way that the lines in her face had become more pronounced, the circles darker under her eyes, the undertones sallower in her skin.

Vanessa had done such a good job of keeping it inside, of pretending everything was okay. Of playing things up with Brooke, acting like everything was fine and that she was fine despite the shortness of her breath and the way her hands would shake as she’d try to sit herself up.

Vanessa had been fighting so, so hard. Brooke feels a pang in her chest, a guilt, that she hadn’t realized the extent of it herself.

Sure, there’s not much Brooke would have been able to do, having no medical knowledge. But she could have listened to her vent. Held her hand. Distracted her.

It’s eating at her, now. Should she have done more? Known that she should have done more?

She hopes Vanessa will understand when she wakes up.

If she wakes up.

There’s times when the pictures that float by in Vanessa’s mind become clearer than others. More realistic, almost tangible. Like when Vanessa sees Brooke sitting beside her, and can almost feel the way Brooke’s running her fingers through her hair. She wants to lean into the imagined touch, but doesn’t want it to disappear back into her subconscious.

Brooke’s whispering to her to wake up, baby and telling her about how she hasn’t been intubated for days, how she doesn’t even need extra oxygen anymore, because her new heart’s working and it’s working well. How Vanessa’s finally, finally, healing.

It’s a nice dream. Vanessa can see the way Brooke’s worry lines are beginning to relax, her shoulders a little less tense. The way her eyes are full of happiness - weariness still, yes, and a little bit of trepidation - but also full of relief.

She’s glad this dream Brooke is happy, the way Brooke should always be.

Dream Brooke lets out a little sniffle and it makes Vanessa want to frown, because she doesn’t want her to be upset, but then Brooke is pressing a kiss to her forehead before calling out for her nurse. A nurse who shines a light into her eyes, asks her questions like what day it is and where she is and Vanessa wants to answer, she does, but she’s never had such realistic dreams before.

“Thank god, thank god, thank god.” Brooke is squeezing her hand and Vanessa can nearly feel it, while hearing the shakiness in her voice. “Fuck.”

Vanessa opens her mouth and her voice is all but gone, barely above a whisper, but she needs to know for sure. “Dream?”

Brooke lets out a little noise in between a laugh and sob, squeezes her hand tighter, tight enough that it’s tangible, something Vanessa can feel. “Not a dream.”

Huh.

There’s a prick on Vanessa’s arm, making her wince as her nurse takes her blood. The ever present beep of the monitors is still there behind her, the bustle in the hallway outside too, but things are different.

Vanessa looks at Brooke, really looks. She’s tired and worn, in a sweater and jeans and it’s the first time Vanessa’s seen her in something other than the ever present hospital gowns. She’s folded in on herself on top of her chair, legs crossed as she leans forward and she lets out a little laugh when Vanessa flips over her wrist, looks for the telltale hospital bracelet.

“They let me out a week and a half ago. I’m not leaving, though.” Brooke lifts an eyebrow, almost as a challenge, and the words sink on top of Vanessa’s heart and warm it from the inside out, making it glow.

Brooke’s still here.

“A week and a half? How long have I been-”

Vanessa pauses, because she’s not sure if she wants to know just yet. But it’s long enough for her voice to be gone, long enough for Brooke to have been discharged.

Yet still be here.

So Vanessa changes directions, saves the tougher questions for later. “Your ass ain’t sore from that chair yet?”

Brooke snorts. “It is, but not as much as your mom’s. She’s been complaining about how uncomfortable the chairs are for days.”

Vanessa’s breath hitches in her throat, because Brooke’s just said-

“My mom?”

Her mom’s here? But-

Brooke points at a sleeping figure in the corner of the room, one whom Vanessa had completely missed earlier because Brooke is in front of her but her eyes aren’t lying to her, because it’s her mom.

“She’s been here since before your surgery. Surgeries. Signed the consent forms as the substitute decision maker and all that. She hasn’t left, either.” Brooke’s voice is soft.

Vanessa can feel a lump building in her throat, a mixture of relief and questions (Why now? Why not before? Will you go again?) that she’s not sure her mom will even answer.

Questions that Vanessa’s not even sure she wants the answer to, just yet.

“Consent forms for what?” Vanessa has to hold back a laugh at Brooke’s incredulous expression. “Bitch, I’ve been outta commission, how am I supposed to know?”

“You got a heart.”

The words hit Vanessa’s chest one after the other, nearly knocking her down four times over because it’s hard to distinguish between dreams and reality anymore, but Brooke’s squeezing her hand and pressing a kiss to her forehead and she so, so badly wants it to be real.

“You better not be playing.” Brooke better not be, because if Vanessa’s gotten a new heart that means she’s somehow gotten off the waiting list and she’s gone and survived and she’s going to have another chance at everything.

“What, did you think those sutures along your sternum are just for fun?” Brooke’s tone is light, teasing, but Vanessa can see the way her eyes shine, the way they’re holding back a flood of emotions. “You really did.”

“But-how?” It makes no sense, because Vanessa wasn’t very high up, she’s supposed to still have to wait months to years for a heart-

“Turns out going into heart failure and having an LVAD wire rockets you up the list.” The laugh Brooke lets out is one of disbelief. “They kept you alive in the ICU until they got you one.”

“Jesus.” Vanessa’s brain isn’t wrapping itself around the concept just yet, despite the dressings on her chest and the IVs in her arms, because after waiting so long, it doesn’t feel like it’s real. Vanessa had previously thought she’d be more alert for the process, at least. “If I knew before that having a code blue was all it took to get a brand spanking new heart-”

“Don’t you even joke about that.” Brooke swats at her arm. “I never want to think about that code again.”

Brooke’s voice is light but Vanessa can see the way her eyes cast downwards, how her hands shake slightly. The little breath she lets out.

Shit, Vanessa knows that going through it on her end was terrible, but watching someone else? It’s almost worse, seeing the way Brooke’s trying to hard to keep it together, to keep her from noticing.

“God, I thought I’d really lost you.” Brooke sniffles and Vanessa wants to reach out, wipe the stray tear on her cheek but Brooke’s too damn tall even when she’s sitting.

“I’m still here. Ain’t going anywhere just yet.” Vanessa doesn’t know if the words are true, or how much to believe them. But she wants them to be true. “Still got episodes of 90 Day Fiance to catch up on with you.”

“The most important reason, huh?” Brooke lets out a giggle as she brings a hand up to brush her cheek, and even her crying face is still damn adorable. Vanessa’s impressed.

“Nah, the most important reason is you.”

Vanessa’s always been one of those people who falls too hard, too fast. Falling for a girl on the same subway car or for a cashier at the grocery store. Falling for the occasional pretty nurse that smiles at her more than the rest of them do.

But Brooke’s different. Vanessa’s not even sure if she’d call it love, not really. Not yet. But Brooke had given her a reason to hold on, push on the last few weeks, then had taken over her subconscious while she’d been out. Brooke’s full of possibilities and a beacon of hope for a future, one that Vanessa hopes they can at least partly experience together.

Brooke’s seen her at her worst. She’s seen what Vanessa’s been through and stuck around despite it. Vanessa herself isn’t an expert on women (she’d leave that title to her MAC coworker, A’keria), but she can tell when she’s found someone special.

And Brooke, sweet perfect Brooke, who hides so much softness in her heart that only comes out when she trusts someone enough, is exactly that.

And Brooke’s still here. Which means she hadn’t listened to Vanessa when Vanessa had told her to leave, to save herself from pain that she didn’t need. But she’s stayed. She’s been here at Vanessa’s bedside for the entire time, it seems, from the way she’s folded up in the chair like she knows it so well, the way her jacket is in a corner of the room, a pile of her books on Vanessa’s bedside table.

Brooke hasn’t had to, but she’s stayed. And Vanessa’s beginning to realize that maybe, there’s no way that Brooke could have brought herself to leave.

Vanessa traces her thumb in circles in Brooke’s palm, looks down at the patterns she’s drawing. “I dreamt about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Vanessa thinks back to the Brooke in her subconscious, dancing around and still sitting at her bedside and whispering soft things while being the most beautiful sight Vanessa’s ever seen. And remaining so now, too. “Dancing around like the Sugar Plum Fairy you are.”

Brooke snorts, but the adoration in her eyes shines through, makes Vanessa feel like she’s floating, like maybe, maybe, there’s more for them. A future. “There’s so much I gotta teach you about ballet.”

“I ain’t going on my tippy toes, though. That’s your job.”

“Noted.” Brooke’s smile is soft, but Vanessa’s ready to let it power her for days. “Though you’d be a good dancer.”

“You say that as if I can keep my ass sitting up for more than half an hour at a time.” Vanessa tries to picture herself back on her feet, dancing and running around, and the thought feels far away, from a distant life.

“Soon, you’ll be able to.” Brooke’s smile is soft and Vanessa can’t help but grin back, because all the hope and the possibilities that are laid out in front of her, in front of them, are right within her grasp.

“Yeah. Soon.”

[lomlwintersoldier]

You Know Me {Part 5: Sleepwalking}

Previous parts:  | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Word Count: 3556

Warnings: just some fluffy bucky! mentions of death

Your eyes open to an unfamiliar, sterile, white room. You glance around in confusion; all you remembered was the apartment and...nothing else. You sift through the haze in your mind trying to remember what happened and you glance at your arm. An IV, no doubt pumping morphine or some other painkiller through your veins and you sigh in frustration as you rip it from under your skin, hating the way it makes you feel. You relied on your sharpness, your mind, and with the drug dulling your thoughts, you couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t. 

The apartment….the explosion...it all starts to come back to you as your mind becomes more and more alert with each passing second and you vaguely remember Bucky returning to the apartment after his pursuit of the masked attacker, yelling your name and scooping you up in his arms. That was the last thing you remembered, although even that was hazy. 

You figure you’re back at the Avengers compound judging on the futuristic, minimalist decor of the hospital room. Glancing around you, you see doctors, nurses, and agents milling around the hallways, and you press the button in your hand. A few moments later, a nurse comes into the room, a young man. “Oh good, you’re finally awake,” he breathes a sigh of relief and starts checking your vitals. He takes note of your removed IV and gives you a pointed look. “I’m gonna put this back now.” You sigh and nod, extending your arm. Your mind had returned to its sharpness but so had the pain and you could see your heart beating erratically on the monitor. 

“What happened?” Your voice is hoarse and barely louder than a whisper but you don’t feel as bad as you must look. He opens up the tablet in his hands, recording your vitals before replying. 

“The debris that fell on you essentially crushed your torso. You have a collapsed lung, multiple broken ribs and a fractured pelvis, not to mention that you had heavy internal bleeding. We had to put you in a medically induced coma to help you recover.” 

“How long have I been out?” You ask, sitting up slightly.

“Twelve days. Mr. Barnes and Mr. Wilson brought you back after the attack in Barcelona. I’ll notify them that you’re awake.”

You nod and lean back into the pillows, wincing. He starts out the door before looking back at you, staring curiously...suspiciously.

“Most people wouldn’t survive something like that,” he states simply before leaving the room. 

You lean back against your pillows, taken aback by his words, but your mind begins to race a mile a minute. He was right; you should have died so why weren’t you? What made you special for you to survive injuries like that? 

You reach back into your memories trying to find some rhyme or reason, but your mind begins to delve into dangerous territory. You always tried to avoid thinking about your parents but suddenly you wondered if you didn’t know the full story, if they had allowed H.Y.D.R.A. to experiment on you and your sisters. What would that mean?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock and you glance up just as Sam pops his head into your room.

“Hey, Dom.” He gives you a pained smile as he takes a seat on the chair beside you. “How’re you feeling?”

“Been better.” You chuckle. He’s quiet for a moment, looking at your battered body. You must’ve looked like hell, based on the bruises you could see. You didn’t want to wonder what your face looked like. 

“You wanna tell me what happened out there?” Sams expression is neutral, calculating as he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he waits for your response.

“Didn’t Bucky tell you?” 

“I want to hear it from you.” You pause for a moment, recollecting your thoughts but you find there’s not much for you to report. You were clueless about who had attacked and how they’d known where you and Bucky were.

“I don’t know. I remember Bucky offering to take first watch and the next thing I know I’m under a shit ton of rubble. The bomb took us out easy.”

“It wasn’t a bomb.”

“What?” You ask quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“We checked the scene once Bucky transported you to safety. There was no evidence of scorch marks, trace residue, shrapnel. There wasn’t even a casing.”

You lean forward, eyes narrowing. “Then what was it?” What could possibly cause that kind of damage without fire?

“That blast didn’t come from a machine.” 

“So where did it come from?” Your eyes narrow as your mind begins to dance around the idea of another superhuman coming for the Avengers. No doubt they’d already thought of that possibility.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Sam sighs.

“What does Bucky think?” You ask, knowing that Bucky surely had his own theories, being a soldier and all; he was smart and surely knew that something else was going on.

“We’re worried they’ve found a way to recreate Tony’s repulsion ray. The effects from the blast was very similar to the kind of damage he could do and Bucky left a few days after we got back to investigate it.”

“He’s gone?” You try not to keep your expression neutral but Sam gives you a strange look before replying.

“Yeah, he is. He’ll be back in a few weeks.”

It’s quiet for a moment as neither of you knows what to say next, but Sam looks at you carefully. 

“I was worried about you, Dom. We all were.” 

You smile. “Thank you, that’s...that’s good to hear.” 

“Get better. We all want you safe; you’re one of us now.” Sam reaches for your arm, squeezing it as he stands. 

You nod, and he heads out the door, leaving you alone again.

You spend two more weeks bedridden in the med bay, and various members of the Avengers had come to visit and check up on you, except for one. Bucky. You didn’t ask anyone about him, but you still swallowed back a lump in your throat every time there was a knock on your door that turned out not to be him. You were worried about him. The Winter Soldier, the enhanced super soldier that could absolutely take care of himself and didn’t need anyone worrying about him, yet still, the longer he stayed away, the more you agonized over his safety. You’re out of the hospital before he comes back but you remain quiet about your concerns to the rest of the team, not letting on that you even cared.

“We advise against you leaving so soon, but you are allowed to remain in the compound. Strictly on rest.” The doctor says as she clicks the rail from your gurney down. “You can’t be doing any sort of dangerous activity for the next four weeks. You had very traumatic injuries, Dominique. Let your body rest.”

“Alright, doc.” You reply, pursing your lips and looking down at your hands. “Let yourself heal.” She emphasizes. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, okay.” You grudgingly agree. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.” 

She gives you a comforting smile before squeezing your shoulder, allowing you to be taken out in a wheelchair by a nurse. He takes you back to your room and although you’d only slept in it for a few nights at most before your mission, you still feel a comforting rush of familiarity when you find yourself among what little you possess and the only comfortable bed you’ve slept in in years. 

You crawl into bed, curling up in the soft sheets before letting sleep overtake you, falling into what you hoped would be a gentle, dreamless sleep. But of course, that’s not what your subconscious intended for you.

“Focus, Dom.” Natasha chastises as her right foot connects with your side, knocking the wind from your chest. You groan and collapse to one knee, right hand clutching at your ribs as you suck in a harsh breath. Natasha circles around you like a vulture waiting to land on its prey, poised to attack with teeth bared.

A growl rips through your lips as you roll to your left, narrowly avoiding Natasha’s fist aimed directly at your face.

“Good!” She compliments you as you hop back on your feet, kicking her twice in the side, but your strikes aren’t nearly as effective. You were holding back.

“Don’t hold back,” Natasha orders through gritted teeth as if she’d read your mind as she parry’s another one of your hits.

You twist and slam your elbow into her side, grabbing her ankle and flipping her onto her back but she catches herself before she hits the ground, using her momentum to jump onto her feet at an inhuman speed. Catching you off guard, Natasha easily grabs you by the throat and slams you backwards to the ground, knocking the breath from your lungs and slamming your head against the mat. You groan as Natasha holds you there, forcing you down longer until finally, she releases your throat, standing up and brushing herself off.

“Get up.” She holds out her hand. Giving her a look, you grudgingly take it.

“You could’ve gone easier,” you mutter as you wipe blood from your mouth.

“You really think H.Y.D.R.A.’s gonna take it easy on you if they ever find you and Amara?” Natasha replies; her tone has taken a dangerous lilt, the one she used when her orders were disobeyed, and you lower your head slightly.

“I’m just saying--”

“They won’t.” Natasha cuts you off. “They will kill her and you, just like they did Nia. You need to be ready for whatever they throw at you, Dom, because you fight like you just did and both of you will be dead faster than you can snap.”

“I’m TRYING, Natasha.” You shoot back exasperatedly as you wipe your face with a towel, the ache in your cheek no doubt a sign of a nasty bruise. “In case you haven’t noticed, you haven’t been around much and we’re still not dead, so give me a little credit.”

Natasha glares at you but the expression dissipates as the words leave your mouth; you were right and she knew it.

“I just want you to be ready,” she mutters contritely. “It’s getting more and more dangerous out there. H.Y.D.R.A. isn’t the biggest baddest monster anymore and I’m worried that now that Fury’s assembling a group of superhumans I won’t be able to protect you anymore.”

“I know,” you sigh, wiping blood from your nose. “But I can do it.”

Natasha sighs and uncharacteristically pulls you into a hug; shocked, it takes you a moment before your arms come around her too and you hold her tightly.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen now that I’m gonna be a part of this thing but it’s up to you now to be in charge, call the shots.”

“Don’t worry, Nat.” You pull back, flashing her an arrogant smile. “We’ll be okay. You go be a hero.”

Startling awake, you sit up in your bed, surrounded by darkness. Panting, you glance at the clock on your side table, realizing it’s only been a few hours since you fell asleep. Falling back on your pillows, you try to catch your breath as you stare up at your ceiling. You hated dreams. Hated how they popped up at the most inconvenient of times, hated how they dug up old wounds. You’d learned to live with the ache of loss in your chest but sometimes, sometimes your subconscious just wanted to screw you over.  You swallow back the lump in your throat and force yourself to think of anything except for Natasha and your sisters. It still hurt too much to even open that box. As if knowing you need a distraction, your stomach gives a loud growl. 

Sighing, you climb out of bed and tug on some leggings and a tank top, knowing that mostly everyone was either away on missions or asleep, and you carefully grip the specially designed crutches Bruce had made for you. They created a suspended force field around your legs that took your body weight off your injured pelvis so you could walk easily. It didn’t take away the pain of your broken ribs but you were learning to deal with that too.

You make your way down the hall in complete darkness, walking into the empty kitchen and grabbing some ingredients for pasta since you were so hungry. Surviving on hospital food had not done you well. 

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts as you gather your food that you don’t even hear someone come up behind you, but your neck prickles and you whirl around. Well, as quickly as you can ‘whirl around’ considering your lack of grace due to your crutches. But your gaze fixes on the figure at the door, the tall, muscular outline of a man emerging from the shadows.

“Bucky,” you exclaim, surprised. “When did you get back?”

You try not to look too enthusiastic that he’s back, but the worry that you’d felt for weeks is instantly replaced by relief and contentment as you look at his face, although there’s a deep cut on his cheek that makes your heart twinge. You resist the urge to go up to him and stroke his stubbled skin.

“A couple days ago,” he replies hoarsely. “I can come back later if you....”

“No! No, it’s fine. I’m just making some pasta if you want some?” You say it like a question and you hate how your words turn upwards with uncertainty but to your gratefulness, Bucky smiles as if he wasn’t expecting you to invite him to stay.

“Alright. How can I help?” He says, striding across the room to your side, looking down at the ingredients you’d laid out on the counter. Your lips part slightly in surprise but you quickly recover and clear your throat. 

“Okay, tomatoes and onions need to get chopped. Oh and the zucchini.” You tack on.

Bucky chuckles at your orders but grabs a knife and cutting board, starting on the tomatoes carefully and diligently. It’s almost funny watching him chop vegetables because his fluid motions remind you that he has expert knife handling skills; it was entertaining to see it used in an action as domestic as cutting vegetables. 

You also see his hands, both of them, and for the first time, you get a good look at his metal arm. He normally wore long sleeves and gloves but tonight he’s just in sweatpants and a short sleeve shirt, revealing the black and gold appendage the Wakandans had made for him. The plates shift with his movements and you realize that no matter how small his motions are, the plates move constantly to keep up with his actions; he holds the tomato delicately between his vibranium fingers working quickly and carefully as you fill the pot with water, setting it down on the stove. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he looks up at you earnestly. He puts the chopped tomatoes in a bowl before starting on the onions.

“I’m okay. Just can’t wait to get back out there.” You chuckle bitterly at your predicament. His eyes flick painfully at your battered body and even though you looked a thousand times better than you did two weeks ago, you still moved like every shift hurt you.

“How long until you’re all good again?” His hands continue working but his eyes don’t leave yours and you’re suddenly very aware of how close the two of you are standing to each other, side by side chopping vegetables. 

“They said four weeks.” You mutter, tearing your gaze away from him and grabbing the uncooked pasta box. “I’m technically not even allowed to be out of bed yet but I’m healing fast and Bruce made me these handy things....” You gesture down at the crutches.

He’s quiet for a moment, looking down at the tomatoes as he slowly scoops them into a bowl.

“You know, when it happened, I...I was scared. For you.” His voice is rough, dark, and you hear him trying to contain the emotion in his words.

“Why?” Your reply is small, barely a whisper as your eyes meet his, and the silence holds him there for a moment, waiting for him to say what he wants to.

“You were under a huge pile of debris, Dom. I thought you were dead.”

You resist the urge to ask him why he would care if you died and instead stay quiet, looking down at your own hands as you chop the zucchini into little pieces. 

“Well, thankfully, I’m not.” You reply simply, flashing him a quick smile as you break the moment, trying to keep the conversation light hearted.

The two of you continue to work in silence but it’s not uncomfortable like the other periods of silence you endured with him, you realize. It feels comfortable, like the two of you were okay with just being in each other’s presence, not feeling drawn to talk and when you finish cooking, Bucky makes you sit down while he grabs the bowls. 

“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own food.” You protest lightly as he pushes you forward gently by your shoulders, forcing you into a chair.

“Don’t worry, I’m aware. Just let me do it this once.” He placates you as he places the bowl of food in front of you and grabs some utensils before taking the seat beside yours. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, the angle hurting your back and spreading pain through your legs as you try to eat. 

“Why don’t we go sit on the couches?” He suggests, standing and swiftly picking up both your bowls. He must’ve been watching you struggle to get comfortable. 

You follow him out to the dark living room, taking a seat on the soft, much more comfortable sofa, watching as he flicks on a light in the corner. He sits down beside you, handing you your food as he reaches for the remote.

“Wanna watch something with me?” 

The two of you settle on a horror movie, an old flick about a haunting in an old church in Romania, and a few minutes in, he grabs one of the blankets hanging over the sofa and spreads it over your legs wordlessly, no doubt feeling the chill in the air himself. You thank him and smile, surprised by how tender and thoughtful he’s been with you tonight. 

It’s not long until the upright position starts to hurt and you kick your feet up on the ottoman, getting more comfortable but as you lay down more, you realize you’re closer to Bucky than you thought you were. His arm skims yours with every breath he takes and you’re becoming more distracted by him than by the movie. But you settle into the couch, watching as the demon dressed like a nun attacks the protagonists, the small lamp in the corner, the only source of light in the room, casts a dim glow over you and Bucky. As time passes, your eyes feel heavier and heavier and every few moments you have to force them open again, but eventually, you give in to sleep, letting yourself slip into the comfortable darkness.

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Bucky watches her as she falls asleep, her head lolling a few times as a result of her forcing herself to stay awake before she finally gives in, her head coming to rest against his shoulder. 

His heart skips a beat as the contact surprises him but not unpleasantly so; he actually welcomes it. Her body is warm, and against his better judgement, he drapes his flesh arm over her so she’s tucked into his side, and his hand comes to rest on her waist, fingers spreading over her skin. He shifts her so she’s laying down but that makes it so he has to lay down too and now he’s full on cuddling with her, cradling her small frame against his chest. Her arms are draped across his torso, dangling off the edge of the couch as her soft breaths spread across his shirt.

Abandoning the movie, he stares at her sleeping face, the way her hair falls across her cheeks, and he brushes the strands away from her skin, letting his touch linger for a moment as he cradles her to his chest.

What the hell are you doing, Buck? He thinks to himself, unable to tear his eyes away from her face.

Without waking her, he switches the TV off and carefully scoops her up, doing his best not to wake her, and starts down the hall, turning the light switch off on the way out with his elbow. Her head rests against his chest as he brings her to her room, pushing the door open with his shoulder. He lays her on the bed, pulling the blankets up to her shoulder as she rolls on her side, wrapping her arms and legs around a pillow. 

“Goodnight, Dom.” He whispers as he closes the door with a soft snick. 

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Next Part: Coming Soon!

Masterlist

Tags: @xxchexchickxx @killpop-writes @melconnor2007@psychicwitchphilosopher @frolicsomefawkes @the-witching-hours12-3 @bubblegumuntsr @badassbaker @trashsnitches@barnes-toddpartnersinheartbreak @thickthighedqueen@megandrawsspace @rda1989 @ailynalonso15 @cupcaitlyn96@take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @thefridgeismybestie @elleatrixlestrange@browncoatforever @elitafuckingone @siobhanrebecca @ my-girl-is-the-best @dugan365

[buckys-old-habits]

Thinking Out Loud

Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader

Inspiration: “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran

Warning: Angst, Character Death

Word Count: 2.2 k

When your legs don't work like they used to before And I can't sweep you off of your feet Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks

He didn't know about anything that happened after he fell and got caught by HYDRA. How could he? He was just a machine, used and broken for their purposes.

So when he finally came back and started to be himself again he learned what he missed, what he lost when he didn't even know what he had before.

His best friend lost the love of his life, was there when she left this place behind. And Bucky couldn't be there for him, couldn't say goodbye to his amazing female friend.

He lost his comrades from the war, they all survived and he is glad about that, but they died without knowing that he was still somehow alive.

He surpassed them even if he doesn't deserve it in his opinion but he did and he tries to do his best to make them proud.

Memories came back and one night there was a picture in his mind that he couldn't believe was true.

He confronted Steve about it and what he heard left him numb and somewhat guilty. But the hardest thing was that he forgot about this amazing person.

“She is still alive”, Steve said to him and Bucky wanted to know where.

“Will she remember me?”, Bucky asked his friend, afraid and with a heavy heart. “Because I couldn't and know I suddenly see her smile in front of me.”

Steve just smiled sadly and told him to see for himself.

And darling I will be loving you 'til we're 70 And baby my heart could still fall as hard at 23 And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways Maybe just the touch of a hand Oh me I fall in love with you every single day And I just wanna tell you I am

And that's what he did.

The next day he stands in front of the building where his fiancée lived. Anxiety grips on his heart when he takes the piece of paper from his pocket and compares the number of the door with Steve's handwriting.

It's the right one.

But is he ready to step in and face his lost love that he forgot? That he has last seen when he was 24 and now he is over 90 years old and still alive and agile.

Taking a deep breath he slowly pushed the door open and the smell of lavender greets him.

A new memory flashes in front of his eyes, a date with his beautiful dame when she nearly fell into the lake by the lavender garden. He saved her and they laughed like the carefree young adults they were back then.

Carefully he steps into the room and his eyes fall onto the old, fragile looking woman in the big bed.

She meets his gaze and suddenly Bucky feels his heart thumping in his chest. Warmth floods him and a smile tugs on his lips.

Even after so long he still feels love for the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen.

So honey now Take me into your loving arms Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars Place your head on my beating heart I'm thinking out loud Maybe we found love right where we are

When my hair's all but gone and my memory fades And the crowds don't remember my name When my hands don't play the strings the same way, mm I know you will still love me the same

Her eyes focus on him and Bucky shallows hard before closing the door behind him and walking towards the bed.

Silence settles between the two, low music in the background from the old radio on the table. Bucky studies the aged features of the woman, his girl. She does the same with him and slowly her eyes light up, a youthful glimmer that makes her seem younger than a few moments ago.

“What took you so long?”, she asks him, a low, raspy tone and Bucky can't help but smile softly.

He brings a chair to the bedside and sits down, unsure if he can touch her or if he lost this right.

She takes the decision from him and lifts her hand to lay it on his cheek, thumbing away the tears that fall without Bucky's knowing.

“So handsome...”, she murmurs and he laughs softly, pressing a kiss to her palm before taking it in his own hand.

“You look gorgeous, doll”, he whispers and she shakes her head.

“I'm old, Buck. I'm bedridden and...”, she trails off and just looks at him, takes him in, her lost lover.

“I missed you.”

Bucky lays his forehead on her hand when he hears this words leave her mouth and sniffs, tears spilling from his eyes.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry...”, he mumbles, not able to stay strong anymore.

She soothes him and slowly pulls him towards her, letting his head rest on her chest. Her hands stroke his long brown tresses and he shakes in her embrace.

“It's fine, James. It's fine...”

'Cause honey your soul can never grow old, it's evergreen Baby your smile's forever in my mind and memory

I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways Maybe it's all part of a plan I'll just keep on making the same mistakes Hoping that you'll understand

He came back every day after this.

Talking to his love, catching up with her life and slowly falling deeper and deeper in love with her again.

He learned that she couldn't bring herself to fall for another man after he was deemed dead. She wore the ring he gave her before he left for war ever day and waited for a miracle that he would come back.

He felt guilty that she lived in grief over him when he was still alive but she chided him for that and told him that she decided that for herself. And that he is here again, never left actually.

“You're not old”, he tells her after she rambled about her aching bones again.

She giggles lowly and shakes her head. “I am, Buck.”

“No”, he protests and takes her hand in his. “You're still as snarky as you were before, still as funny and definitely still as beautiful.” He kisses her forehead and she smiles at him, small tears in her eyes.

“You are a charmer, James Buchanan Barnes. That's how you got the ladies back then.” “That's how I got you, Doll.”

“No, you tripped over a bump in the road and fell flat on your face. Your nose was bleeding”, she reminisced and he cringes at this, the memory flashing in front of his eyes.

“What can I say, Doll? I feel for you from the first moment”, he tries to hide embarrassment but she just raises her eyebrow at him and laughs.

“You said that back then too. Before you clawed onto Steve's jacket from the pain in your nose.” Bucky groans but a smile tugs on his lips. “It hurt.”

“Big baby”, she teases and he kisses her, partly to shut her up but mostly because he fell deeper in love with her.

But baby now Take me into your loving arms Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars Place your head on my beating heart I'm thinking out loud That maybe we found love right where we are, oh

“Bucky?”, Steve knocks on the door to his friend's room but doesn't get an answer.

The brunet came back from his visit to his fiancée and just stomped into his room, ignoring the greetings from his comrades.

Shortly after Steve got a text from said woman which just read “Tell him I'm sorry...”.

Needless to say that he was concerned about you both.

That's why he stands in front of Bucky's room and tries to coax him into talking to him.

“Buck, please talk to me”, faintly he can hear sniffling from inside and then suddenly a loud crash.

Taking desperate measures Steve kicked the door in and saw the utter chaos in the room. Holes in the walls, the furniture tipped over or partly destroyed, the bed a mess of feathers and fabric and in the middle of this a crying, broken Bucky.

His hair is a mess, his eyes red and puffy from crying and his right hand bloody from punching things.

“Buck?”, Steve slowly walks towards his friend, afraid of scaring him away or Bucky lashing out at him. He would take it, but he knows that it would hurt Bucky more.

“What happened?”, the blonde asks carefully and Bucky finally looks at him. His blue eyes tinted with hurt and anger.

“She's dying...”, Bucky whispers, his voice hoarse and broken.

Steve takes a deep breath, already expecting something like that. Flashbacks to Peggy's death flooding his mind but he shakes them off for the sake of being there for his best friend.

“She is old, Buck...”, Steve says and Bucky scoffs dryly. “I know that I'm not stupid”, he snarls back and walks towards the bed, sitting on the destroyed sheets and pillow.

“I know that.”

Steve stays silent, not sure what he should do or say. Nothing will ease the pain in Bucky's heart, nothing will take away the fear of losing his love for good this time.

“She's sick... Was a long time, even before I meet her again”, Bucky whispers and Steve nods slowly.

“She kept it from me... She lied that she was okay, but today she told me... Her doctor said that she would maybe live for another few weeks, not more.”

Bucky's shoulders shake again and he can feel the tears burning in his eyes. He buries his face in his hands, gasping for air, gasping for the happiness he thought he had.

He knew that this day will come, the day she will take her last breath, but he pushed it away. Stupidly thought that finally, he can be happy.

“I will lose her, Steve. And this time she won't come back like a damn miracle.”

So baby now Take me into your loving arms Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars Oh darling, place your head on my beating heart I'm thinking out loud That maybe we found love right where we are

The room is silent, except for the breathing from the two people in it. One is steady and strong, the other raspy and choppy.

He holds her hand, the skin soft but wrinkly. He watches her, studies her face. Her eyes, her lips, her wrinkles all over her skin, her gray hair, everything.

“James?”, her voice is hoarse but still melodic in his ears.

“I'm here, Doll. I'm here”, he assures her and she smiles lightly before her grip tightens on his right hand. “Lay down with me, please.” Slowly he obeys her wish and cradles her fragile frame into his bulky and warm one. A satisfied hum leaves her lips and he presses a kiss against her hair.

“Thank you”, she whispers and he stares up at the ceiling.

“For what?”, he asks just as silent and carefully tugs her closer to his body, warming her cold skin.

“For everything until now. Loving me, proposing to me, coming back here, staying now...”, she trails off and he can feel the sting in his eyes.

“Nothing to thank for, Doll. I should thank you for accepting and loving me.”

After that, the couple stays silent. Bucky staring at the ceiling, fighting against his tears and the oncoming heartbreak.

His love nestles into his chest, feeling the warmth emitting from him and hears his steady and strong heartbeat. It soothes her, makes her feel like she is a young adult again, falling in love with this amazing man beside her. She doesn't feel remorse, she doesn't feel sad, she just feels happy. Happy to be here, to see that her lover is still alive and with her in this moment.

She knows that it will break his heart, she knows. But nonetheless, she is calm about the next minute, feeling already what will happen.

Looking up at him she smiles softly, feeling her heart thumping loudly for a short moment at the sight of this handsome soldier. “James?”

Slowly he looks at her and she studies his features, burning them into her mind so that she will dream of him later.

“I love you.”

He chokes back the sob and tightens his hold on her, not wanting her to go. But he can't hold her back like that, he knows that.

“I love you too, Doll. Always have, always will”, he whispers back and presses a tender kiss on her forehead.

His tears slip down his cheeks when he hears the ongoing beep of the machine beside him. Her heart stopped, her last breath left her body, the last glimmer vanished from her eyes.

His sobbing is painful in his chest and he cradles his lover to his body, rocking her back and forth. But he knows...

He knows she's gone without any chance of coming back. He lost her again and this time for good.

Oh maybe we found love right where we are And we found love right where we are

[soundofseventeen]

Anywhere But Here (Boo Seungkwan)

I hope the Joshua one wasn’t too terrible! Unto Seungkwan! (I own nothing except the words.) -Bee

Masterlist

Seungkwan remembered when he was a teenager, he read a book by some American author about a guy who was looking for a girl, but he didn’t actually know who she was or where she lived, but he found her by chance and he remembered thinking how that was the stupidest thing a person could ever do. But it wasn’t how it conveniently played out that made him think that. It was the fact that the guy walked the whole way to her. Granted, if his curiosity wasn’t as great as it was, he’d be on his couch back in Jeju and not walking in the forest in the middle of the night following the red string that was visible only to him. (He did however, vow not to critique any other fictional character since he now knew their struggles.)

This endeavor might have been his most challenging feat by far. He could recall being younger and following the string coming out of his pinkie to see where it’d lead him but he would make it to the end of the block before one of his family members would come out and take him back inside. Of course as he grew up, he ventured a little more just to see where it ended, often growing frustrated because the end never arrived. (On one occasion he ended up somewhere in Taiwan, and another between the North and South Korean border when he was supposed to be on vacation.) 

Many times he found himself holding a pair of scissors ready to cut the accursed thing, only to be scolded by his mom not to be doing that because it was dangerous. However, the one time he did manage to do it, he ended up breaking the scissors and he didn’t even know why that happened. His dreams plagued him on what was on the other end from finding the lost city of Atlantis to picking up the lottery ticket off the floor that could earn him millions and once he even found the famous Michelle Obama at a comic convention. The final straw for him was when the end led him to a spaceship that took him to a different planet and the people there made him their king. He tried to ignore it, but when that left him restless, he sold his safe house (probably not his best idea if he was being honest) and with that money, hit the road with nothing but his backpack with necessities and the skin on his back. He supposed he could’ve used that money to drive to the destination, but he figured that would’ve been anticlimactic and what could he say to friends back home if he didn’t go above and beyond? Well, if he had friends that’s what he’d tell him, at least.

By day, he roamed where the red string led him, sometimes through the woods, other times through a suburban neighborhood, and by night, found a hotel that would meet his standards so he could shower and wash his clothes. In one instance, he rented his own boat to cross the water that led him to a dock that led to nowhere where he walked and walked until he ended up in Busan. Sometimes he felt like giving up and when he wanted to turn around, he’d feel a light tug as if pulling him closer to where he needed to be. He backtracked maybe once or twice but pursued nonetheless. He ran out of cash a lot sooner than he expected and instead of withdrawing from his bank account, he resorted to busking in the streets and relying on his voice to keep him going. Nature was his constant companion and he didn’t know how he ended up enjoying the quiet, but he realized that once he did, he couldn’t get enough of it. He eventually bought a blanket to carry around with him when the days were cooler but even then he came down with a cold, which made him stay indoors a lot longer than he liked, like now. At one point, it got so bad, he was bedridden for a couple days, and right before his fever broke, he felt like something was pulling towards him, but because of his lack of strength, he couldn’t do anything except moan and groan that he couldn’t. He could feel the physical force of the something pulling at the thread and if he wasn’t so weak, he would’ve gone up and searched for the culprit. By the time he recovered a bit, all he could see was the string he was supposed to follow.

*

“Thanks for the help DK!” You exclaimed, stepping back to admire your newest painting that had been delivered. You might’ve been fond of art, but when it came down to the flowers and trees and everything that Mother Nature created, there was only one person who could capture its beauty and that was Chinese painter The8. You’d had your eye on one of his works that would continuously sell out but had finally been able to snag it albeit you had to go through different cities all over South Korea (and sometimes leaving it!) to find it. You handed him his paycheck once you were back at one of the counters before he clocked out for the evening and he gave you the day’s sales from his deliveries plus loose change and tips despite the fact that he was alone for a few days. He chatted away of the day’s events, filling you in on the events from how one of the people at the retirement homes was looking more and more like the undead and how one of his friends at the thrift shop was consuming an unhealthy amount of coffee and the neighbor’s dog Aji chewed on his welcome mat while he was on lunch break.

“Aren’t you pissed about that?” You asked him. “If that was me, I would’ve...never mind, I wouldn’t.”

“Nah, she was just hungry. Usually I leave her snacks since Mingyu is okay with it, but how you left early and I had to open, I didn’t have time, so I guess there’s that.” He glanced up at your painting. “I still can’t believe you went all the way to Jeju for that. Where’d you sleep anyways?”

“At a hotel somewhere in Busan…”

“That’s...quite a tourist move.”

You didn’t tell Seokmin about your time in Busan. It’s not like he wouldn’t have understood, but there was something there that kept you from leaving. Your curiosity had gotten the best of you and used part of your free time to see how you far you could get following the string around your finger. It led you to a hotel on the other side of town and that’s where the fear set in, mentally using the excuse of being needed for orders at Smile Flower and keeping things in order even if you were short handed. (You hated to admit that you went up to the door and deliberated whether or not to knock, and opting to pull the string.) You scratched your pinkie finger, digging your thumb nail into the soft material of the red thread that wouldn’t be seen by the boy you were conversing with and opted for a shrug. “A change is good sometimes.” A fake yawn. “Well, I think we should we head out now. I have a long list of orders for this weekend and please remind me to put up a help wanted sign in case we stop being able to handle it. Good night.”

*

At precisely 4:47 the next afternoon, you delivered the bundles of flowers to Adequate Eternity, the coffee place next door with the help of Dino, one of their workers. He was a colorblind boy who often asked you about the colors you picked and you were always happy to answer. The reason was because of the eccentric old lady who owned the place. You figured Yoon Jihye must’ve been alive during the Great Depression (maybe longer!) but she had the youth of a child. She liked telling tall tales of soulmates and how some people were born with one (like you, she once said but you’d laughed nervously at that.) She was also one of the few people who could see your red string even without the help of the full moon so you trusted her judgment, even if she sounded a bit far fetched at times. She claimed she had a gift and that wasn’t a doubt you had for a second.

Auntie Jihye usually had Jeonghan, her great (you weren’t sure how many greats he was if you were being honest) grandson and caretaker call in an order weekly to place on the tables so the guests could have something good to smell and different types to see. You bid a good day to Wonwoo who was sans Jihoon (probably in class or something. Wonwoo himself didn’t go to university until dark from what he’s told you when you bumped into him out in the streets) but working quietly on an assignment. Seungcheol had your check ready along with the small order Seokmin had placed beforehand.

“Lovely day isn’t it?” Seungcheol commented, using his permanent marker to draw a happy face on your coworker's cup of chocolate milk. “It feels like Christmas is upon us.” He stopped long enough to assess your reaction, knowing that you had no rest.

You plucked a chrysanthemum from the bouquet and handed it to him. “I love it but not that I’m not ready for overtime.”

“Ahh my young soul. Your impatience is that of a toddler. Yah, Chan! I told you to open it now!”

“Oh, I’m impatient?” You had to snicker. “I just don’t wanna feel like I’m wasting my life away to make sure everyone’s arrangements are perfect.”

“Why not make a post on FaceTwit or however you youngsters get your news out nowadays?” He looked out the window a little too dramatically. “In my days, why, I think we had only a newspaper.”

“Seungcheol? I’m pretty sure we’re about the same age.”

“Don’t mind him; full moons make him nervous,” Jihye interrupted the conversation. She had a bright smile on her face, arms wide open, expecting you to give her a hug, which you did because who wouldn’t wanna hug an elderly woman that loves you to bits? “Look at you, looking prettier everyday.”

“Good day Auntie. Where are you headed at this hour?” You waved at Jeonghan who had just appeared behind her. He smiled at you politely, busy chewing on his granola bar to answer. Your eyes widened. “Oh! Is it Saturday already?”

“Just some errands; we’re all in for an exciting remainder of the day...things to do and people to meet, words to explain. Not me, of course, but rather to guide them. Full moons mean I have a lot to do,” she mumbled more to herself. “Let’s see candles, wax figures, oh and can you get some roses ready for me too? Any color will do.” She grabbed your hand without warning. “My, my. Is it me or is your string looking...better? Ah yes, you’re in for some changes. I can tell by the look in your eyes.”

“Come on Grandma...let’s leave Y/N alone, shall we? We have a full day ahead of us. Ow!”

“You rapscallion. I wasn’t talking to you, or are you in a hurry to get somewhere?” She waggled her finger at him. “We’ll get there when we get there. But you’re right. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back. It’d be rude to keep my guests waiting. And you have plans with the dream boy. What was his name? Joshua. ” She turned her attention back to you. “Now, if you don’t want an angry customer, I’ll expect my roses tonight.”

“Yes Auntie!” You saluted her. You picked up your drinks, bid them a good rest of the day and went straight back to Smile Flower, sighing when you realized the rest of the work ahead of you and then the phone rang an hour or so later. When Seokmin came in a few minutes later, you were rushing out the door, with only a vague explanation of you leaving for an auction in China and finding help for the time being. You heard him laugh at your enthusiasm but promised to keep to the place standing. By the time you turned and waved at him, a handmade help wanted sign already on the front window for passerby to see and you waved to Jeonghan who was coming back from the presumable dinner with his friend. In an instant, there was chaos but you were already running late to see for yourself. You cursed The8 for being an artist with too much talent. The only thing you had caught was Jeonghan kneeling on the floor and struggling to pick something up.

*

It was a little after dusk when Seungkwan finally set foot in Seoul and he cursed under his breath when he saw that his string was leading him the same way he showed up. He put his foot down though and decided to settle in Seoul for a time because he didn’t leave Jeju just to probably go back. He walked around aimlessly, looking at the department stores, thrift shops, a few malls, a couple of chains that sold international products, recording studios, too many coffee shops to keep track of and even a flower shop sporting a help wanted sign. The door opened not much later and out came a boy carrying a rather large bouquet of flowers in a vase. He set them on the floor and locked up when he noticed Seungkwan. “I’m sorry, did you need something? I’ll be back in like five minutes.” He picked them up. “I just need to take these next door.”

“I uh, couldn’t help but notice you were hiring.” He decided to walk with the boy. There wasn’t harm in asking a few questions.

“Yeah my manager is currently on the way to China and I need someone to deliver while I stay there….HI EVERYONE!” Not being used to having eyes on him (it has been awhile since he had attention) he picked nervously at his string. The barista at the register acknowledged him with a greeting and he deemed it rude to not respond, so he ordered a hot tea and a cake pop, waiting for the boy he was walking with to finish his run so he could discuss the possibility of a job. He sat at a table where no one would question being alone, feeling at home despite the fact that he was an outcast. There was people despite the hour, two boys chatting amongst themselves at their own table near the door, a couple of actors with killer makeup skills that gave them an undead look, and a guy with his grandma, looking expectantly around them. She would say something to him and he’d nod in response. The only other worker was asking about the colors of the flowers and Seungkwan almost snorted at him for not being able to differentiate the red from the purple.

“I was starting to think I wasn’t going to meet you.” The old lady startled his people watching and he stared at her confused. “The red string,” she elaborated. The boy escorting her pulled a seat out for her and she sat across from him while his just jaw dropped. The boy then called for a Hansol who had emerged from another door, while they bugged the zombie looking actors. He only caught the name Joshua, but the other slipped his mind, remembering someone claimed his attention.

“I don’t-” She sighed, took his pinkie and yanked at the thread and his hand involuntarily shot forward. “How’d you know about that?”

“I don’t need a full moon to see it,” she laughed fondly. “And I can tell you we’ve been waiting for sometime to meet you. How rude of me! What’s your name young man?”

“S-Seungkwan.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean we, Auntie?”

“Goodness, look at the time! Everyone out. I must get this done by midnight.” She looked at the analog clock on top of the entrance doors. “Anyone who dares contradict me is more than welcome to help me get this ready. I am old and frail after all. Seokmin! Get this boy a job with you! Lord knows you and Y/N need the help. He will be a very good asset to the business.”

“Uhh, yes Auntie!” The boy named Seokmin pulled on Seungkwan’s arm. “Come on, I guess you’re hired. Let’s go get you a form filled out and you can get started tomorrow!”

*

Seungkwan surprised himself by staying a lot longer than intended in Seoul. He got the hang of making his deliveries in maybe one week. Granted, he had to learn the lay of the land first, but once he did, he realized how different life was here and he wasn’t complaining. He liked the rush of feeling like he was living in the fast lane. Seokmin turned out to be a really great coworker as well as friend. (He hated to admit he was slightly afraid of him though because of the “ghost girl” as he called her that followed him everywhere. DK swore though that she never tried to harm him, but he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t see what he looked like.) They went to a lot of places together, from the thrift store they regularly delivered to an aquarium on the coast near the outskirts of Seoul. He had a friend who worked there regularly and despite the minor clashes, Seungkwan liked him right away. He also befriended the boy named Hansol, a boy who was literally cold to the touch, only because his roommate started spending more time with a boy she’d met, as he had learned his friends weren’t actors, just heavily sleep deprived. 

He became an everyday customer at the Adequate Eternity, learning the names of Wonwoo and Jihoon who both seemed rough on the edges but melted that exterior rather quickly as well as Seungcheol who had a funny way of talking and Chan who he learned couldn’t see colors (and that made him bad for judging the boy when he first saw him. He made it up to him by trying to explain what they looked like though.) 

He learned to confide in Jeonghan about his doubts and any worries. Seungkwan knew that he knew about the string (he figured it was Auntie Jihye who told him since they spent so much time together. Jeonghan simply adored her even though she was very sarcastic and tended to hit him playfully. He also learned it was part of the relationship) but he never brought it up in conversation or even hinted if the string even had an endpoint. 

He spent many years accepting the fact that it was the mathematical vocabulary word ray; it had a starting point but the string could go on forever. Jeonghan would simply shrug and pull out the pendant he wore around his neck. “It’s like this,” he explained one day when it changed color. “My grandma said it changes according to moods, but it’s not my mood, but rather someone else’s. Some things just don’t have an explanation, and sometimes it’s up to us to find them. That’s why you’re here, right? You didn’t come all this way to get away from home. You want to see where it leads you. I don’t blame you though. I’d be curious too. But regardless, I’m glad it led you here.”

“Hey hyung, what do you think it could be? Why is it us?”

He paused, toying with the object. “Soulmates,” he finally admitted. Some things are much too powerful to be anything else.”

Seungkwan nodded, feeling oddly satisfied with the answer. It was the first time he thought a person could be on the other end and it seemed more probable. He didn’t grow up scorning the idea that someone was out there just for him and he thanked his family for being as open minded as they were about it.

However, he supposed a lot of his nervousness came from the fact that he didn’t know who his manager was, despite the fact said manager phoned in a few times a day. Seokmin often filled her in on the day’s events and assuring her that Seungkwan was being a lot more helpful than he thought, spoiling the fact that he was hired on Auntie’s recommendations. He did speak to Y/N once though and he floored by knowing how friendly she seemed. She shortly explained that she left often because she was a fan of The8’s works and his art popped up all over Asia but she was thankful for him helping out. She was due at the end of the month though and he was excited for that notion.

*

You were gone a lot longer than you thought and you felt guilty that you hadn’t paid either of your employees but were grateful that they were understanding. You were bummed that you couldn’t get The8′s newest work but it wasn’t a complete loss since you managed to buy one of his books, so it was a small victory. The growling of your stomach made you stop with Yoon Jihye, despite the fact that that it was a little passed closing. Okay it was almost midnight but still. You knocked on the door, and Jeonghan opened the door, giving you your welcome back hug. “Here I was thinking you skipped town and moved to America,” he joked. His pendant was clear that night, but still illuminating the dark place. “Shouldn’t you be home, or on your way there?”

“I was hungry and I needed to check next door first. My priority is to pay whatever damage DK and his friend caused and them too for being good sports. Hi Auntie.”

“Welcome back dearie. We missed you. How was your trip? Unfortunately Seungcheol burned our last batch of zucchini bread so I can’t offer you anything. Poor boy must’ve had a bad day.”

“That’s okay. I guess I can just stop by one of the stores still open. But I guess I’ll see how my business is. Good night.” Luckily for you, Seokmin had started the filing the receipts that needed to be sent out as well as stamping the checks that could be sent out for depositing and you saw several orders with upcoming deadlines as well as rough outlines of how to bunch them together. The place was spic and span, albeit a few stems strewn about. You texted him and told him you’d be closed tomorrow so he could have a couple of days off (which were gonna be paid as a thank you for taking over with no complaints) but you told him to let the new coworker meet you at the coffee place so you could decide if you really wanted him or not. Based on your conversations with Seokmin, he was new to the area but was rather efficient so keeping him definitely seemed likely.

Your growling stomach didn’t let you do much else so before heading home, you did a quick shopping trip just so you could have something in your system because ordering out took too long and it was too late to get pizza delivered. You deliberated with yourself the whole way there. Instant noodles seemed like a really tempting option but you really didn’t want to be hungry again after an hour but a home cooked meal would take too long to prepare and you were sure you’d fall asleep before it finished. You weren’t really a fan of microwaveable food either, so frozen was definitely out of the question as well. So your best option was to have what teenagers ate for lunch: chips and an energy drink. It’d keep you full until morning but you’d switch that for water for the simple reason that you wanted sleep. 

You waved to a few of the workers, chatting idly before getting back the mission at hand. You finally found the aisle you were looking for, craving salty and going to the other end of the aisle until you can across the specific brand you were looking for and it seemed like your luck ended there because there wasn’t anymore, or so you thought. You crouched to the bottom row and there was one more left. You didn’t even have to stretch far to get it but you didn’t notice that someone else had their eye on it because they grasped it at the same time you did. “Hey, that’s mine,” you grumbled, ready to fight. You looked at the chips in your hand, and almost dropped them in surprise. The red string on your finger was tied to the other person who was looking just as dumbfounded as you. You stared open mouthed at each other for sometime, the food in question already on the floor. Slowly, painstakingly slowly, extended his hand out in a greeting, which scared you a little but otherwise shook it, disregarding the fact that the custom in South Korea was to bow.

Behind you, a trio of old ladies giggled at the sight which made both of you whip your attention towards them. They said nothing but looking satisfied at how the situation turned out. “Congratulations,” you heard one of them whisper and they disappeared almost as quickly as you noticed them. “Two down.”

“It was you I’ve been looking for,” he murmured in awe. Tentatively, he reached for your hand again, both of you watching the string grow in length when he pulled away and shrinking when he came close.

You broke out into a smile and you were sure you could’ve cried if you weren’t in public. You weren’t weird after all. And then it hit you. Against your better judgment, because hello you just met him, you asked him a single question. “Can you come with me?”

*

As it turned out, Jeonghan and the old lady were long gone by the time you reached them. Not that it mattered because you had gone back alone because he declined saying he to get ready for work the next day and you respected and admired him for that. He left you his phone number in case he finished early and he suggested Adequate Eternity which was more than convenient for you. You had more than enough time to spare to get to know Seungkwan so you decided to grab him a cup of hot cocoa before you finally met him. Saturday mornings for some reason were busier but that was beyond your control, not that you were in a rush or anything. You took your time starting an order for a grand reopening of an art museum you were so fond of and and giving the place an overall cleaning Since you had finished earlier than planned, you decided to go for the coffee run, locking up just as slowly, well once you were sure someone had your small order ready. The only thing out of the ordinary was quite literally bumping into a girl who seemed more focused on her watch, and before you could open the door for her, she gasped. “My card!” She exclaimed and turned around just as quickly. “I’m sorry!”

Inside, you heard a cry of frustration, followed by the sight of an annoyed Jihoon running out of the bathroom, a bit of toilet paper stuck on his shoe. “Damn it, not again,” he groaned. He resumed his spot next to Wonwoo, and they continued writing down some notes. (At least that’s what it looked like to you.) They argued quietly and it never ceased to make you think they’d end up being those friends who grew old together but instead of spending their days in the park, it’d be here.

Chan waved at you and continued his window cleaning with a newspaper and some kinda drinking alcohol while Seungcheol read his copy out loud. And the people you were looking for were were looking for some keys. “Grandma, where did you leave them?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t ask you to look for them, right?”

“Good morning Auntie. Hey Jeonghan. Auntie, guess what happened last night?”

“From the light in your eyes, I can assume something good.” She pushed Jeonghan slightly. “Isn’t Y/N glowing?”

“Radiant Grandma. Ow! Hey, that wasn’t sarcasm! I meant that.”

“Oh hush, it’s rude to interrupt when someone is talking. Find the keys. Joshua said Babylon’s shipment is a can’t miss! You were saying, my dear?”

“I think-” you snickered at Jeonghan’s face and composed yourself, “I saw someone on the other end of the strand. What does that mean?”

“That I will explain when Jeonghan and I come back. Poor soul didn’t know where he left my keys. I think he’s the one with bad memory.” She winked at you. “Have you met the young man that’s been helping around?”

“Not yet. I told him to meet me here at noon. Um, this is kinda embarrassing, but do you know what he looks like?”

“He’s already waiting for you.” She pointed in the direction of where Seungkwan was sitting, eyeing the red string connecting you both and smiling smugly to herself when she saw the look of surprise on your face. “By the way, you’re soulmates. Jeonghan, let’s move! I have them right here!”

To say the least, you were nervous as you walked up to him. But then again, actually no, there was no then again. How the hell did something like that happen. Soulmates were extinct, weren’t they? There hasn’t been any evidence of them in years, so why now?

“Some things don’t require explanations though, right?”

“Holy shit, can you read my mind too?”

He smiled at you. “No. I was really surprised too but it makes sense. Hannie hyung helped me to understand that.” He pulled at the string and it brought your hand to his. “I guess what we decide to do with the knowledge is up to us. I know I came a long way to find you so I know I’m staying here for the time being. If you’ll have me as an employee and friend, that is.”

“Seungkwan, it would be a privilege to have you here as long as you’d like.” You returned his smile. “It’s officially nice to finally meet you by the way.”

“The honor is mine Y/N.”

*

A few days later, he took you out to the aquarium his friend worked, casually linking pinkies as you walked along, seeing the marine life, watching them swim in circles and come up for air. “Hey Hansol-ah!” He waved at someone you recognized, but he looked like he was on a date with a girl you noticed as someone from the museum you frequently visited and you smiled shyly at her. “What brings you here?”

“Enjoying the beach vibes my friend.” He waved excitedly at you like you were good friends and you returned the gesture. Anyone Seungkwan was fond of, you adored, especially him because of how well they got along and how there was no secrets between them. “Are you on a date too?”

“Yeah, this is my soulmate Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you. Well, we better get going but it was great to see you Kwannie.”

“You know, I hope he’s as lucky as I am and has a soulmate too. Do you think it could be her?”

You shrugged. You’d found out from Jeonghan that they came back in this century but only a rather near nonexistent percentage. “I’m not sure. It’d be nice if he did too, but if he doesn’t, well, I hope he ends up with someone that could be like one.” You agreed that not everyone was lucky enough to have an other half though. He threw his arm around you as the wind blew and he kissed your hair, messing it up that much more.

[prettyboiiharringrove]

Your alpha Stave and Omega Billy works are awesome. Totally living for it, reread everything more times than I will say but I wondering if your could go into the crime boss Steve with the dirty cop omega Billy or anything else?

( dsoh masterlist )

( alpha/beta/omega masterlist )

you are honestly so sweet i’m just delighted that you guys keep asking for more because i’m like i love this but it’s also garbage ?? but then people ask for more and i’m like i must give it to them !! serve up my subpar content lolol

okay so yes. now in that au it’s not abo as we know but i was ranting to my lady love @sightetsound the other day (as i do constantly) about all the what ifs with devious omega billy and his murderous alpha steve and let me tell you, it’s fucking beautiful (some of these were even her ideas, she’s an amazing genius). 

but like this is my time to shiiinnneee

( i think some headcanons mentioned in this could apply to just normal omega billy, especially the pregnant ones, and may even have been mentioned already but i tried ya’ll, i tried )

so let’s get this started

warnings: alpha/beta/omega dynamics, threats, assault, mentions of blood, mpreg, fear of miscarriage, heat cycles, some sexy shit my dudes, omega billy, alpha steve

People underestimate Billy his entire life. It’s fuckingsexist bullshit and he never accepts or gets over it. People constantly doubthim, talk over him, or patronize him whether it be in the town he grew up in,the police academy, at work, or just casually in public. He hates it, but thenhe meets Steve and Steve is different. Even when they were on opposing sides,Steve respected him, and now? Now Billy is mated to him, carries Steve’s markwith pride because his alpha loves him, sees Billy as his equal and not somewhore to be bred.

Ooh let’s talk about the first time they got together. Seebecause in my original dsoh storyline there’s always this sexual tension andcompetition with each other that fuels their rivalry, and then they end uphooking up because Billy’s pent up and Steve is always happy to help. He’dknown from the start that Billy was meant to be his.

What if the story is similar but instead of them randomlyfucking in a bar Billy goes into an unexpected heat. He just started a newbirth control and his doctor says it could mess with his hormone levels andapparently the combination of that and the stress from the trial, the one Stevejust walked away free from actually, triggers his heat early. So they see eachother at that bar but Billy starts to get hot and dizzy and nauseous and heknows he’s not that drunk, butthere’s not a chance in hell he can make it home on his own, it’s come on toofast.

Steve had walked in twenty minutes ago and he’d been allsensual touches and flirty smiles because he knew it both annoyed and thrilled Billy,but then he sees what’s happening, can smell the slick that must be soaking Billy’spants, gasps when Billy leans forward to rest his head on his shoulder becauseit’s not like Hargrove to just give in

Billy knows that the whole omegas losing their minds duringheat is bullshit, I mean he’d been going through them for fucking years and hehad never hopped in bed with the first alpha that offered themselves up, but hedoesn’t think he could deny Steve if he offered.

Weird thing tho, Steve helps Billy up and takes him out tohis car. He helps him walk out, carries most of his weight as Billy leans intohim, but he doesn’t actually try anything. Billy thinks Steve will finally takethe opportunity to get Billy out of the way, kill him and be done with it.

What he doesn’t expect is for Steve to give him a comfy bed,surround him with blankets and pillows to form a makeshift nest since Billydidn’t have time to do it himself and say “you don’t owe me anything for this,just stay as long as you like. I’m not going to force you to do anything, butI’ll tell you this much Hargrove, if you want my help, all you have to do isask.”

Billy doesn’t even have it in him to feel ashamed when amoan escapes him at the offer.

He doesn’t take Steve up on his offer until the next daywhen he brings him breakfast. He had thought about fucking Steve a lot, hadthought about calling him in for help, even if it was only for the sake ofalleviating those goddamn cramps, but he decided against it. He can’t rememberthe last time he spent his heat with an alpha.

Thing about the next morning though is Steve looks so damnbeautiful in the morning light, and as Steve brushes hair off of Billy’sforehead and he looks up at him with sleepy eyes, something in him clicks. Itfeels like an odd sense of worship, but it also feels so goddamn right. Billypulls Steve down onto the bed and Steve says “hey, none of that now. I told youI’d help, but you need to eat first sweetheart” and he doesn’t know why but itsomehow makes Steve even more desirable. It makes his inner omega purr withdelight.

After that first heat together, they have a sort ofarrangement, because no matter what Billy tells himself, his omega has decidedSteve is his alpha, and Steve has always known Billy was his in return. Billystarts to feel safe with Steve, likes that Steve holds him, takes care of him,kisses him, worships him.

Somehow they start having sex outside of his heats, andBilly starts staying over just to visit as opposed to just coming to ride outhis heat. Their relationship stops being an arrangement and becomes more of afriendship, and then Billy realizes he’s started protecting Steve instead oftrying to arrest him, he realizes that Steve has let him into a part of hislife a cop has no business knowing.

He realizes that Steve has just as much to lose as he does,because Steve has let himself trust. Worst of all, Billy realizes that he lovesSteve. That’s when things take a turn for the insane. Billy may not be mated,but he is Steve’s omega and there’s no denying that. Steve is his true love andhe will give himself without a second thought. They’re bonded, it’s just amatter of time before he has his bite.

The one thing that bothered Billy though is how fucking longhe waited to be Steve’s mate. Billy had to scrub off Steve’s scent everymorning and he hated it, but now Steve is his alpha and no one can take thataway from him.

Steve faking his death really fucks with their mating bond,hurts Billy so goddamn much he’s bedridden for at least three weeks, Tommy hasto come take care of him, because Billy can’t face any of Steve’s employeeswithout screaming or hyperventilating. So, that’s a whole thing to explore.

Y’all wanna talk some nsfw headcanons ?? I do !!

So to start this off if you haven’t heard already, we shouldjust get this out of the way, I picture male omegas having both a dick andvagina (click here to read about that)

All I’m saying is picture Steve fingering Billy so good hesquirts and Billy didn’t even know he could do that and he says as much like…noone’s ever been able to do that before and Steve’s just like “because nobodycan make you feel the way I do sweetheart” but it’s the PROUDEST MOMENT OFSTEVE’S LIFE

Billy being in Steve’s lap, legs wide open as Steve playswith his pussy, his cock twitching every time Steve teases his clit. He’s puton display but only Steve can touch. Everyone else can just admire the view anddesperately wish they had an omega that loving and eager.

“Damn boss, I’ve never seen anyone that wet outside of heat”“you hear that baby ?? you’re special. Tell him baby, what’s got you so wet ??”and billy whines and moans, but when he doesn’t answer Steve stops his playing.Billy’s hip stutter, an unconscious attempt to chase Steve’s fingers. “Come onbaby, tell him or you don’t get to play. Only good boys get to play.” “Alpha, my alpha makes me wet.” “That’s rightbaby, you’re just dripping, making a mess. So eager, just waiting for daddy’scock, aren’t you??” “Please !! Please daddy,I’m a good boy !!” “What do you think, he been good ??”

All the employees know that the only correct answer to thatquestion is yes, unless you intend to sign your own death warrant.

Billy sucking his slick off of Steve’s fingers as he fucksup into him and strokes Billy’s dick.  

Okay moving on.

Pregnant omega Billy and his murderous alpha that ispractically daring someone to look at Billy the wrong way. Pregnant Billy restingone hand protectively over his stomach and holding a gun in the other, coveredin blood and Steve finding him, terrified until he realizes it’s not Billy’sblood.

There was not a chance in hell Billy was letting anyone hurthis baby.

He’s calm, shut off, animalistic, that is until he’s inSteve’s arms, trembling as the adrenaline high starts to ware off and Billy canonly think about losing the baby, someone taking that little life away fromhim, of cradling his bloody stomach and praying that he fucking died so that hedidn’t have to live in a world without his baby, so that he didn’t have to faceSteve and tell him that he couldn’t keep their child safe.

He remembers the blade tracing his stomach, the slight cutto his flesh, a small message of what was going to happen; Billy couldn’t letthat happen but now, as he shivers in Steve’s hold, has a vice grip on hislover, and sobs into his shoulder, all he can think about is how close he wasto losing everything.

Billy finally stops trembling, he’s not sobbing anymore buta few stray tears fall as he finally looks up at Steve with a glazed over lookin his eyes. Steve grabs him by the face and kisses him gently before moving tokiss lightly at Billy’s neck and the nuzzle against his warm skin, inhaling thesweet scent and telling Billy that he did such a good job, that he’s such a goodboy, such a good dad.

Also straying away from the angsty stuff and dipping our toeback into nsfw for the pregnant edition, Steve may not look at Billy as abroodmare but he 1000% has a breeding kink. You know he does.

And Billy, Billy is such a submissive boii when it comes toSteve but it’s probably really prevalent when he’s pregnant because Billy’severy instinct screams ‘I’m tired and vulnerable please protect me. Protectus’. He knows he can take care of himself, has proven it time and time again,but he just needs Steve to coddle him and take care of him, to hold him closeand boss him around, to let his mind rest. Some days he simply needs to belongto Steve. He needs Steve to praise him, to tell him he’s doing a good job, thathe’s such a good boy. He needs it.

Here’s something else I think. We’ve already established Stevehas always loved people walking in on him and Billy, loves while Billy rideshis dick while he’s in the middle of a meeting, or gets down on his knees whilethe door is wide open. He loves putting on a show, that is until Billy getspregnant. The second Steve finds out Billy gets pregnant, every alpha instinctin him screams to hide Billy, to keep his omega and pup as far away from thesepeople as possible and he even starts backing off a bit, being less forward anddominant. It kills Billy, especially the submissive side of him that needs toplease and listen and be a good boy, because Steve won’t let him. They talkabout it (because the fuckers realize they have a communication problem) andthings fall back into place.

I’m actually working on a drabble about it to better explain how they get past the struggle of not wanting to touch or bother each other to being the typical clingy loving mess they are. I should have that out soon please be patient with me. 

Steve is so extremely in love with Billy, and daddy Steve isall about his pregnant omega, beams with pride every time he so much as thinksabout him.

Billy is a good boy, the best boy, and Steve is obsessedwith him.

No, I’m serious like he can’t fucking get enough of him. IfBilly is in the same room as him, Steve has to be touching him. It’s a fact.His hands are on Billy’s tummy all the goddamn time because he’s in love withthe bump, and Billy is curled up in his lap whenever possible.

Billy is always falling asleep in Steve’s lap and I promiseyou if someone woke him up there would be hell to pay. But picture Steve gentlystroking his stomach so the baby keeps calm and Billy waking up and whining ifhe stops, just a sleepy and breathless “daddy” and he’s burying his face inSteve’s neck like Steve can legitimately feel him pouting against his skin.

Another fun thing to picture is Steve coming home to Billyroaming around the house in his underwear, one of Steve’s suit jackets, andnothing else. The jacket is too long, it reaches his thighs and covers hishands and his belly is sticking out. Steve is in awe but all Billy notices isSteve staring and he’s like “Stop looking at me like that. Goddamn maid did allthe laundry and this is the only thing that still smelt like you. I’ll gochange but stop, Jesus.” Poor baby needed his alpha’s scent but all the sheetsand clothes, even the fucking pillow cases and Billy’s goddamn stuffed animalsgot washed and Billy was stressed. Steve obviously pulls him into bed andcuddles up to him before Billy has a chance to take the jacket off.

Billy probably feels tremendously guilty for gettingpregnant so soon after transferring to work with Hopper. He constantly fallsasleep at his desk because paperwork is the only thing he can do so he does alot of it. Hopper is calling Steve to come pick up his stubborn husband.

I imagine Hopper has to call Steve to come get Billy a lot.

Billy has been puking all goddamn morning but herefuses to go home because he’s not technically sick so he can still work.

Billy almost gets in a fist fight and it’s likeBITCH YOU’RE PREGNANT

Billy the baby is due in three weeks you saidyou were gonna go on leave two fucking months ago, stop coming to work

I think Kayla sums it up the best she literally just said“Hopper’s burden is profound.”

Hop is just like “Steve. Come get your husband I’ve neverbeen so annoyed for someone to actually do their job.” He feels like any secondhe’s about to step on a landmine because if he upsets Billy he feels like a jerk(don’t upset the poor bby) and all of his alpha and dad instincts are likedon’t upset him but also this boy is miserable why is he still here ?? Hop isliterally like if Steve can’t come get him I’m scooping him up and taking himhome.

Like Billy. Honey. It is not a crime to get some goddamnrest.

( Another great quote from my love “Apparently it is,according to Billiam.” )

Steve at one point lays down the law to protect Billy andthe baby because sure a lot of people work up until their due date but Billyhas been overworking, not getting any rest, he’s stressed which we know is notfucking good, and you can just look at him and know he feels miserable andtired.

Sadly, despite Billy’s need to be a good boy, he also feelsan obligation to help Hopper. Hopper gave him a job when no one else would justbecause he was Steve’s mate which meant he was family, and then he got pregnantso fucking fast that he’s like this is all I can do so I have to help, I haveto do everything I fucking can here.

And it’s like no honey, it’s okay, you need to take care ofyourself, please take care of yourself.

Steve would be so genuinely upset, you know he would, whenhe gets a call from Hopper saying “I thought the kid was finally taking hisleave ??” Steve is so confused, just like “…He is??” and Hopper just answersback with “Then why is he drooling on my paperwork instead of in a bed ??” AndSteve is not a happy boy like at all.

At this point it’s like troubling like do we have to stagean intervention ?? “I’m fine okay ?? I just like to help.” “You’re sleepingmore at the station than at home.”

Sleepy Billy when Steve comes to pick him up after that callfrom Hopper. “Hey don’t be mad.” “I’m pissed off Billy, you’re going to have toaccept that.” “Stevie, don’t be maaaddd.” “Stop it, you’re being a brat.”

Honestly though, Billy just wants to be helpful but this isnot the way honey.

Sleepy Billy is my favorite Billy, he’s such a bratty lilboy, especially that night.

“Steve, gimme your jacket.” “You have your ownjacket.” “Yeah, but I want yourjacket.” “Seriously?” “It’s softer, mine is all itchy.” “Then why did you wearit?” “Steve, the baby wants yourjacket.” Steve gives him the jacket.

“Cuddle me.” “I’m driving.” “Cuddle me plleeaaassee.” “I. Am. Driving.”

“Are you still mad??” “Yes.” “…What about now??”“Yeah Billy, I’m still mad.” “Okay.” “Okay…” “And now??” “Especially now!!”

“You know, I was fine, you didn’t have to comeget me.” “You know, I might believe that if I didn’t just watch youaccidentally staple your own hand.” “I was fiiinnnee.”

“Baby, you promised you were done.” “…okay Steve,not for nothing but I had my fingers crossed behind my back so it doesn’tcount.”

Billy he loves you but you’re driving him insane. Stevewants to scold him, tell him how ridiculous he’s being. Why’s he have to be sogoddamn stubborn ?? He needs to fucking rest Jesus fucking Christ. What thefuck is he going to do with this little brat ??

Steve stays home as much as possible and makes Billy come towork with him when he can’t so that he can keep an eye on him. Billy doesn’tknow if he should be pissed or delighted because on the one hand Steve isgiving him all of the attention but on the other hand he knows he’s in troubleand he’s pissed off about it.

Billy is such a handful, big time, and he goes betweenpouting and coming up with every way to get Steve to not be mad at him. He’llgrab Steve’s hand and make him feel the baby kicking because Steve can’t staymad when that happens. He’ll crawl in Steve’s lap and refuse to move. You knowdamn well he calls him ‘daddy’ to get his way. He borrows all of Steve’s comfyclothes and parades around in them because Steve absolutely loves when Billy iscovered in his scent.

The problem is that other times he’s a brat about it. He’lljust ignore Steve. He’ll refuse to sit with him. He’ll talk to anyone exceptSteve, even people he can’t stand. He’ll whine about every fucking thing. Itdoesn’t help that he’ll sit right in front of Steve and call Hopper to see howthings are going at the station.

I also picture Billy having to say “I’m pregnant you fuckingmoron” a lot. (this was mentioned in the other set of headcanons but I justlove it, it’s my favorite fucking headcanon)

Billy and Tommy don’t see each other as muchsince his transfer, so Billy calls him to tell him the good news. Tommysuggests going out for drinks to celebrate.

Some dumbass that does odd jobs for Steve everyonce and awhile sees Billy and comments “Damn Steve, your bitch really lethimself go”. Billy barely get’s the words out before Steve is grabbing the guy by hisneck.

There’s some serious shit going down and someonementions that Billy would be really good backup for when they go try to ambushone of Steve’s rivals.

It’s at this point Kayla and I started discussing how Billyfound out and what him and Steve’s reaction was. It’d be the same as in themain headcanons, except Billy is at work when he hears Flo and Hopper talkingand just drops his crappy breakroom coffee and hides in the bathroom. Oh andSteve freaks the fuck out when he realizes how involved Billy’s been in themore violent side of his work and how much he’s been hit and kicked and thrownaround that at his first doctor’s appointment he keeps asking “so you’re sureeverything’s okay ??” until the doctor has to take a few deep breaths so thatshe doesn’t snap at him and Billy orders him to sit down and shut his mouth orhe’s gonna kick him out.

[trcthfvl-a]

Bonds Reforged

@oumasaiweek

Day 2 of 7. Love/Hate.

     He had once told Kokichi that he would always be alone. Those words resounded in his head, along with why he ever said them; Kokichi looked at them all like he hated them, despised them so deeply that it seethed around his lies. The vehemence he saw, at the time, he believed to be inappropriate--if he had wanted their help, he should have tried to garner it. This, and the sight of Kaito injured made his blood rush hot and his muscles tense, ready to fight for someone he absolutely believed in.

     The detective knew now that the truth was that both boys had their convictions, and in this game, it had truly placed them on opposite sides. One of them was the mastermind and Kokichi trusted nobody--whereas the detective only knew to work as a group. This fundamental difference... was it really that profound? It would seem so.

     As days passed in the hospital, recovering from exiting Tsumugi’s VR, he had a lot of time to consider, and a lot of time to write. It was promoted anyway; the doctors seemed to agree that organizing his thoughts while readjusting to daily tasks was important, and hopefully, it may even jog is memory. The memory of the true past, the one Tsumugi hadn’t contorted...

     ...And as ever, it laid beyond his grasp. Who he had been, why he had been. All his friendships lain like a blank canvas, students appearing and checking up on him and him not recognizing their face, though the names were something he recalled from the books inside the VR.

     To say the least, it was easier to work on what he did know.

     Putting away his notebook after tearing a page out, he swung his legs over the side of the sterile bed, testing his footing. His legs were weak, but not unable to support his weight, at least. Good progress... though they were sore. Frequent walks to the others could do that. Whatever the case, he wrote down where he was heading and set the note on the nightstand.

     He hadn’t been to this room yet. According to the others, only Miu and Gonta had. Kaito actually had caught a case of pneumonia, so he was bedridden still. It... it was time to break the ice.

     As he came close, he could see the hulking form of Gonta leaving and heading down the other way--he looked upset, but it wasn’t surprising. He’d admitted that Kokichi didn’t talk to him very much and when he did, ‘he is very mean to himself’, as he put it. Today must not have been very different.

     Glad to not be seen, he slipped toward the door and knocked lightly. There was no response, so he called out. “Kokichi?”

     “Go away, Saihara.” The reply was curt and low.

     He considered it. It’d be polite to, but as he pulled his hat down a little, he resolved himself... No, he had to do this, he had to clear things up.

     And so he entered. And was greeted by an empty bottle of water flying at his face. It almost tipped his hat right off, but he staggered and caught himself. “Wh-”

     “I said go away!” He’d never heard him yell like this, so it shocked him quite thoroughly--and it almost seemed to shock the other boy, too. He didn’t look like he understood what he was doing until he’d already done it. “Alright, fine. Whatever. Stay.”

     Dismissive. Hands clutched the blanket on the bed like he could strangle it, and nurses passing by gave them looks, so Shuichi took the hint and closed the door to sit in the afforded chair. It was still warm--Gonta must have been here a while. “S-sorry. I don’t mean to upset you.”

     “It’s a little late for that.” Kokichi indignantly snorted.

     ...That hurt. But he had a purpose for being here.

     “I had a a-ah, question, if that’s alright.”

     The smaller boy looked up at him levelly, like he actually took notice of him for the first time. “You’re wearing your hat again.”

     “Well, y-yeah.” He didn’t give an excuse. It was obvious why, wasn’t it?

     “Why ask me a question at all then? You can’t really expect me to take down my armor if you don’t take down your’s.”

     Armor? Why did that sound... familiar? “Is this... a conversation we’ve had before?”

     Genuine confusion crossed into Kokichi’s expression. “Whaaat, you don’t remember? I know it was a year ago, but geez, that’s not that long ago.”

     A year... So it was.

     “...I don’t remember anything before the game, Kokichi.” His voice was small, smaller than he meant it to be.

     Something flickered in the other’s face, but he couldn’t catch what it was. “So you only remember that.”

     “...Yes.”

     “Why are you here, then? Here to gloat over how you took apart mine and Kaito’s plan?” Sneering, though lacking the proper weight of venom.

     “I wanted to thank you.”

     Kokichi looked like someone killed a small animal in front of him.

     “D-does that sound odd? I suppose it is, b-but... I thought about what I told you after Gonta’s trial... And I realized what I said wasn’t fair.” The other boy was waiting for him to finish, so he forged his way forward. “You knew one of us was the mastermind, but it should have been obvious that you were close to Miu and Gonta... Without them, you didn’t have anyone. You tried many times to talk to me. At the time, I thought that was suspicious, but... you knew what Miu was planning.” He looked up, eyes meeting the purple irises of the other. “If you could’ve gotten my attention, things might have gone differently.”

     Silence. And then a slow nod, uncannily voiceless.

     “You took Kaito to keep him safe.”

     Another nod, this time more willing.

    “...I’m sorry. This ‘talent’ of mine really is a curse.”

     All it had ever done was bring ruin, to expose truths better left alone. He hated it, he hated it so much--he kept the game going for so long that it was insane. Why hadn’t he been killed before then? It would’ve been better-

     “Shuichi-”

     The voice didn’t reach him. His face had fallen, tears welling up in gold-grey eyes as shoulders trembled. He’d killed them-

     A hand lifted his hat off of him, making him reflexively reach for it, but Kokichi--now sitting on the side of his bed--flung it to a far corner of the room. “Nope! Now you’re gonna listen to me.”

     “H-huh?”

     “You were mostly right. I did try to catch your attention, buuut that didn’t happen. Gonta’s execution was my mistake! My bad!” His smile didn’t meet his eyes. “I admire it, you know. Your ability to find the truth, no matter how bad it is. Some of us don’t exactly like that, so we make our own ‘truth’. It’s that simple!”

     Was it really? Kokichi looked so exhausted.

     “Yeah, that’s a lie. It’s actually way difficult. Sometimes a lie is kinder, y’know? But everyone wants the truth instead. Some of us are just able to take it.”

     The ‘truth of the outside world’...

     “...I misunderstood you a lot, Kokichi.”

     “Nope! You saw what I wanted you to see. I can’t show all my tricks, now can I? Not when a game is going!” His expression, though slightly forced, seemed more relaxed now. “You were always really bad at reading me. I think that dumb hat muffles your ears, makes you all dumb.”

     “But I didn’t have it on for most of the-”

     “Nee-hee! True. It was a lie. But I think I know what you wanna hear. ‘No, I don’t hate you’.” If it weren’t for the cunning look on his face, Shuichi might’ve immediately accepted it, but the scrutiny must’ve been apparent. “What? You ended the game. I might not have won, but you proved Tsumugi killed Rantaro! I heard all about it when we woke up.”

     He had?

     “You found out the right truth, Shuichi.”

     The right truth...

     He didn’t understand what compelled him to do it, but he reached for the smaller boy’s hand, holding it in both. It was warm, and it wasn’t pulled away--simply resting there.

     I think I understand us both a little better, now.

     I understand now what power we have. We’re opposite sides of the same coin, choosing right from wrong, truth from lie. I never lost my integrity, but he abandoned it somewhere along the lines.

     ...No. I can feel it in him, even now. He’s scared too. His hand is shaking a little, but he isn’t recoiling. I think... he wants to move forward, too.

     Maybe we can become something even better than our talents.

     Something dripped from in front of him, catching his gaze and making him look up to see large globs of tears forming and running in Kokichi’s gaze. Whoever coined the term ‘ugly crying’ might as well put him as the textbook example, because even snot was running.

     Shuichi didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, not when he could lean forward to wrap his thin arms around the other boy, accepting him into a strong hug.

     For once, since the end of the killing game, they let go of their self-hatred and let the pain free. It would never truly be over; they would have these scars for the rest of their lives, but they didn’t have to face it alone.

     It’s all either could ask for.