#i'll update w my thoughts on that when i get there

[bluem1lls]

hiii!! are u gonna write a part two for that one se mi x guard reader angst? )(⁠ﾉﾟ⁠0ﾟ⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠~(⁠ﾉﾟ⁠0ﾟ⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠~

✧₊⁺ what am i supposed to do without you?

✦ synopsis: you don't leave her mind, not after everything you two went through. so when she finally sees you again in a date with someone else, she knows it's time to talk.

tw: minors dni, jealous se-mi, fluff, smut, fingering/oral (r!receiving), a bit of angst

authors note: hiiii, sooo after the poll, this one won!!! so finally, part 2 of guard!reader x se-mi. also im sorry for the lack of update, im super busy with work and also a bit blocked, but tysm for all the requests! i hope u like it!💓

⋆｡°✩ "fuck" my head hits the wall as he pushes me.

"i did warn you, didn't i?" he said as i nodded weakly. "and what did you do? you helped a player. not only helped her, you saved her."

"it won't" i tried to regain my breathing. "it won't happen again"

"you got attached!"

"i'm sorry." i whisper to my uncle as he turns around. i know he's mad.

"if he finds out he'll kill you."

"he probably saw the cameras already" i say to him as my uncle frozens in place.

"you didn't know? you didn't... see him?" he asks as i stared confused. "he's out there. playing"

my eyebrows raise in surprise. "playing?" a shiver runs through my spine to even imagine what he would do to se-mi to survive his own game.

"listen to me." he speaks to me in a serious manner as i bit my lip. "i'm gonna delete the footage and you're gonna leave this fucking place and you won't look back"

"w-what? but.. mom and.. dad-"

"i don't want you here ever again. they'll understand" he says as he presses the button, erasing the videos as i bit my lip hard enough. i'm probably drawing blood.

"are they.. releasing her?" i ask as he turns around. he stays still, letting out a sharp breath. "tomorrow. they voted and they chose to stop playing"

a sigh of relief leaves my body as i turn around, putting on my mask.

"t-thank you" i whisper as he gives me a head nod. i know damn well how he is. and i also know he's doing this for me, and it's not easy. he places his black mask on, matching with his black suit as he sits down on his couch. staring once more at the cameras.

⋆｡°✩ i sigh as i get home. i softly pet my kitten after picking it up from my mom's.

i sat on the couch, exhausted. my head hurts, i miss se-mi and i feel miserable. i thought i was doing the right thing, but now i lost my job and i lost my.. friend? my girlfriend?

my head on my hands as i try to not cry.

⋆｡°✩ it's been two months.

i know she's okay, i made sure of that. but she hasn't texted, called or even came to see me.

and she seems to be okay without me (yes, i stalk her instagram), but i'm not, and that's exactly why i let this happened.

"sam.. no. i'm not ready.." i stare at her.

"look at her! she's a cutie! it's only one date. i know you two will get along great and if you hate her then i swear i'll leave you alone but please. i'm your best friend and i hate seeing you like this, maybe if you try to move on.. it'd be for the best" she begged me as i sighed.

"just one." i say resigned as she shouts in excitment.

and now i'm regretting that, because sam keeps talking about this girl while all i can think about is her.

⋆｡°✩ "where did you said you worked at?" she says as i sip my gin tonic, almost choking on it.

"uh.. next question" i reply with an awkward smile as she chuckles.

"you're so cute" she gives me a smirk. "sam said you were really pretty and.. she wasn't wrong" she says, softly caressing my face, her gaze roaming all over my features.

i stare at her nervously giving her a soft smile. she pulls away, turning around to order more beer for her as i cross my legs and let my eyes wander around the place to distract myself.

it's a pub, and although it's dark i can see the purple details it has. the bar fully equipped with all the finest alcohol, se-mi sitting on one of the stalls of the bar.

my eyes widen.

what?

my stare focused on her as i feel the air being knocked out of my lungs. she catches me staring, her cold gaze lingers on mine. i can see her surprised expression, quickly turning into a cold one as her eyes go to my date. she takes a sip from her beer, her eyes never leaving mine. i can feel the girl besides me talking but i honestly, i can't even pay attention.

"so was it good?" she asks, snapping me from my thoughts as my gaze leaves se-mi for a second to focus on her.

"huh?"

"the drink.. was it good?" she says as i give her a very forced smile while i nod.

"so good. hey, would you mind bringing my coat from the hanger?" i smile at her as she nods. she quickly gets up to get it as i stare at the ceiling.

what do i do? i leave? do i run to the bathroom to hide? should i talk to her? i keep going like nothing happened?

as i remove my stare from the ceiling, i see her standing up in front of me, making me let out a shaky breath.

guess she decided for me.

she stares at me up and down, her eyes roaming my body. she extends me a drink with her right hand while her left is holding hers.

"gin tonic for you.. like always" se-mi says as i slowly take it. her fingers caressing mine for a second, making me shiver. "you look.. so beautiful"

"don't do this.. please" i beg her in whispers. she drinks her beer while her gaze stares at me intensely.

"i just want to talk to you." her eyes flash with.. guilt? as she speaks.

i stare at her in disbelief with wide eyes. "no? i'm on a date!"

she scoffs. "please, you kicked her out. i know you that much" she says in a low, hard tone. "we really need to talk. please"

my eyes roamed her face, i bit my lip thinking about it for a second as i get up, grabbing my purse as i let her guide me to the way out.

i stop where the hanger is as i see the girl with my stuff turned around. i touch her shoulder as she turns at me with a smile. "hey, i'm so sorry but something came up and i need to leave. you're.. amazing, and incredibly sweet" i speak as her expression falls.

"oh.. do you want me to come-"

"no. b-but thank you" i say to her quickly as i can see her defeated stare. i grab my coat, walking to find se-mi at the door. we get into her car in a weird tense silence until we get to my place.

i leave my stuff on the couch as i turn to stare at her, her hands on her pockets as she bites her lip piercing.

"why.. were you with her?" she breaks the silence as i stare at her in disbelief. is she actually asking me that like a jealous girlfriend?

"why? oh i'm sorry. i didn't realized that after you broke my heart i had to ask for your permission" i dry chuckle as she scoffs, annoyed, but her eyes are filled with guilt and remorse as she stares at me.

"i'm sorry. i.. i know why you did what you did. and maybe i didn't understood at first, and it took me a while.."

"you never called back. you never texted, you never came to see me, you didn't cared to know how i was-"

"i couldn't talk to you! not after... the games. i asked sam about you every single day. i begged her to not tell you anything, but god, there hasn't been a day in where you left my mind" she says, frustrated. her jaw clenches as i stare wide eyed. fucking sam.

i sigh as i lean myself against the wall. my hands cover my face. "what was i supposed to do? i thought you ghosted me. i thought you hated me se-mi. so i tried.. to just.. move on" i say as i bite the inside of my cheek with anxiety. her cold gaze stays on me as she takes a step closer.

her eyes burning with jealousy, darkening as her stare roamed through my body. "did it worked?"

my chest tightens as i slowly shook my head no. she closes the distance betweens us, trapping me against the wall as i let out a small gasp, feeling her hands on my waist. the cold silver rings making me shiver.

she speaks in a low hiss. "it didn't? you know why it didn't worked?" one of her hands leaves my waist, her fingers softly lifting my chin. "because you never stopped being mine" she says as my heart thumps on my chest. our breathings getting a little more ragged.

"why are you doing this? after two months se-mi... it's been two months." my eyes fill with tears as she caress my face with her hand.

her lips twitch a little as she hears my weak reply. "let me make it up to you"

her hands lowers to my neck as she closes the distance between us. our lips smashing together as we both let out a small moan. my hands roamed through her body desesperately until i wrap my arms around her neck as her other hand lowers to grip my hips.

my body melts into her touch, the kiss becoming hard and desesperate, expressing the way we missed eachother. our pent up anger and frustration explodes as our bodies pressed together.

"i love you so much" i whisper in a shaky breath in between kisses, her arms tighten around me as she keeps the kisses going.

"i love you so much too" she replies, her lips never leaving mine as she lifts me up, her hands on my thighs as she carries me to my room. she softly positions me in bed. i lay as she gets on top of me. i kiss her hungrily as she moans. she breaks the kiss to lower herself, her face meeting my center as she lifts my skirt. her tongue licks over my panties, spreading the wet patch as i whimper. my hands grip her hair as she moves them aside, circling my clit with her tongue.

"missed this so much" she says, giving a kiss on my clit as she teases my entrance.

"please" my head falls back as i beg her. i can feel her smirk as she pushes two fingers inside, going back with her tongue, picking up a faster pace as i moan.

she thrusts deeper and faster as my moans get louder. when she feels me clenching around her fingers, her tongue swirls around my clit. she smirks, pleased to have me trembling under her touch.

"gonna cum please, please, please" i cry out as my fingers pull her hair making her hiss. her lips around my clit as she sucks, making me whimper.

i feel the heat on my lower stomach snap, i clench around her fingers once again as my eyes roll back and i finish with a long and loud moan. she licks me clean until i'm whining, overstimulated.

"oh baby, this is just the first round" she cups my face as i stare, half-lidded.

⋆｡°✩ i stopped missing her, because she stays right by my side. after a few months, she finally asks me to be her girlfriend, which the question feels odd giving the fact that we're almost living together at that point, but i say yes nonetheless (of course).

⋆｡°✩ and when we sleep, she has nightmares all the time. i try to wake her up gently, with soft kisses as i hug her. we end up falling asleep together, always cuddling to feel eachother.

and i have mines too.

i can feel her shaking me slowly as i gasp. "it's okay-"

"i thought i lost you" i murmur, still sleepy but teary.

"you didn't. i'm right here" she says in a cooed whisper. she hugs me tightly, pressing me against her body as i grip her shirt, scared that if i let her go, she'll disappear.

⋆｡°✩ and we try to overcome the trauma of the games, the deaths, and it's hard, but somehow with her by my side, it becomes easier.

⋆｡°✩ and as we spend all our weekeds in bed, i can't help but wonder what would've happened if i was honest from the beggining. but right now she's here, laying in my bed, caressing my hair as i close my eyes and my head rests on her chest..

and i wouldn't have it any other way.

even if i'd had to go through it again and again. i'd do it for her.

[frankiebirds]

ohhh boy i forgot about this plot point.

i don't think kevin applying for an overseas job is wrong. i don't even think him suggesting that penelope apply with him is wrong. he's allowed to want to move forward in his career and he's allowed to ask his girlfriend to come with him.

what i do think is wrong is that he doesn't bring it up until right before the final interview. i'm hesitant to suggest this because i know kevin gets a little bit of a ron the death eater* treatment from the fandom, but it feels almost calculated. that's a major life decision you're forcing someone to make very quickly. he says he "didn't want to say anything to [her] until it was real" but even if it's not calculated (which i don't actually interpret it as being, the possibility just crossed my mind) i still think it's a shitty thing to pull on your romantic partner. it's softened a little by the fact that he says he's known for "a few weeks" so it's not like she would have had tons of time to decide in the first place, but like...dude. you don't spring that on your partner while literally dressed for the final interview. are you twelve?

*i believe some, if not all, of the ire kevin lynch gets is because of some stuff that happens later that i'm mostly unfamiliar with, so it's very possible that the vilification i see has more justification. but i do think at least some of it is because he gets in the way of other, more popular garcia ships. (that's not to say i like him or that i like him with garcia. i don't lmao).

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days. 

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days. 

It’s scary. 

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else. 

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space. 

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up. 

But you’re not quite there yet. 

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy. 

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting. 

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice. 

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting. 

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either. 

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause. 

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally. 

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick. 

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach. 

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment. 

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all. 

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat. 

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat. 

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself. 

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position. 

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him. 

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass. 

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that. 

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step. 

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy. 

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you. 

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea. 

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence. 

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes. 

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there. 

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather. 

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do. 

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue. 

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder. 

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out. 

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person. 

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now. 

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort. 

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you. 

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him. 

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle. 

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,” Derek finally speaks up. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer. 

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up. 

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes. 

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.  

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man. 

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that. 

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind. 

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—” 

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again. 

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this. 

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings. 

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you. 

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff. 

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group. 

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice. 

Soon, it’s just the two of you. 

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond. 

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.” 

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high. 

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder. 

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts. 

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence. 

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice. 

“Because! Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud. 

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing. 

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset. 

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running. 

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears. 

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream. 

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care. 

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right. 

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you. 

You feel like you might throw up. 

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away. 

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking. 

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is. 

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying. 

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder. 

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette. 

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you. 

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection. 

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you. 

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them. 

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again. 

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.  

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale. 

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice. 

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive. 

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more. 

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby. 

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again. 

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink. 

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.  

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words. 

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles. 

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk. 

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup. 

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant. 

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit. 

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it. 

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede. 

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done. 

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you. 

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him. 

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom. 

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta. 

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever. 

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side. 

“You in there?” 

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup. 

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing. 

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes. 

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating. 

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him. 

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate. 

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed. 

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive. 

Spencer attempts to speak again. 

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?” 

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face. 

You don’t know where it comes from, either. 

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms. 

Too scared. 

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too. 

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room. 

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final. 

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home. 

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do. 

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing. 

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet. 

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move. 

If only time would freeze before he could walk away. 

But it doesn’t. 

He sucks in a decisive breath. 

“Okay,” he murmurs. 

It’s that fucking phone call all over again. 

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up. 

-

part 5.5

[purinfelix]

you're here, that's the thing ˚⟡˖ ࣪ - franco colapinto

summary: your boyfriend tries his best to make your schedules, as a racer and student, work - even when miles apart w/c: 900

a/n: it's finals season for me and i needed to write something self-indulgent as a break from cramming forgive me 🙏

Being a full-time student was one thing, but being a full-time student in a relationship with an extremely clingy boyfriend, who also happened to be travelling the world to race in Formula One, was a whole other challenge.

You and Franco had had some time to adjust to a long-distance relationship since you started dating, having such different lives, and managed to make it work for the most part. But now, with him having to wholly commit to his racing and finals season rolling around for you, it put a strain on your relationship that neither of you was ready for.

It was a strange paradox - the less free time you had outside of classes and studying, the less you were able to spend talking to him, and the more you wanted just to drop everything and fly to where he was. Your morning texts and voice message updates stopped being enough, and before you knew it you struggled to go longer than an hour studying without sending your boyfriend a message to whine and complain.

You were fully aware of how immature and irresponsible this was, but this awareness did little to stop you. And it didn't exactly help that Franco seemed to share the same sentiment, telling you again and again how hard it was for him as well, how racing seemed almost impossible without you there to cheer him on. It hurt, but the two of you just had to do everything you could to get through it - for you to focus on your studies and for him to try his best at racing.

All this came to a head one Sunday though, the afternoon before one of your final exams and - because of the time difference - the night before Franco's next race. Sitting in your dorm alone, surrounded by piles of textbooks, notes and scattered pens you felt a sudden jolt of vulnerability and before you knew it you were reaching for your phone.

"Can you call?" you typed quickly to your boyfriend, your eyes lighting up upon seeing the three dots begin moving almost instantly.

"My gosh, I was just going to ask you the same thing," he replied, and before you knew it your phone was springing to life with a call from him. Clicking accept, you couldn't help but smile widely at the sight of his face.

"Hi," you say, almost shyly.

"Hi baby, how are you?"

"Good," you pause, "stressed."

He nods understandingly, "You're holding up okay, hm? Taking care of yourself?"

"Of course, Franco," you laugh at his almost motherly concern, "and you?"

"Nervous, of course."

"Well, that makes two of us." You pause after speaking, for some reason this call is turning out less enjoyable and more awkward than you hoped.

"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you hear your boyfriend say and when you look up you can definitely see it, his eyelids half closing over deep, dark circles under them.

"Do you want to sleep? I have to study anyways."

You watch as he chews his bottom lip, thinking of what to say though once he finally talks his voice is small, almost like a confession. "But I wanted to talk to you."

"We are talking Franco, and we can talk tomorrow once you rest."

This doesn't seem to quell his worries though, his brows still knitted in thought. "I just feel so useless knowing that you're struggling and stressed and I can't even keep you company like I normally do."

You nod sympathetically until an idea pops into your head. "We can keep the call on, carry me over to your bed - you'll sleep and I'll study."

Even through the fatigue pulling him down, Franco nods enthusiastically, doing as you say. You watch him sink into the plush white bedsheets of whatever hotel he's in, and whilst you feel a little jealous at his ability to rest right now, you turn back to your desk and start pulling out your notes.

"You'll be okay," you hear him mumble.

"What do you mean?"

"With your exams," he smiles sleepily, eyes flitting as he watches you pick up your highlighters and pens, "you're the smartest person I know."

"I don't know how much that's saying, you didn't even finish high school baby."

"Hey! I was trying to be nice," he says, feigning offence though there's a soft smile across his face.

"You're right, I'm sorry," you laugh, "you'll be okay as well, with your race tomorrow."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

"I wish you were here," he sighs, looking at you earnestly and all you can do is give him a nod in agreement.

"But for now," you wave your pen to hint at the fact that you need to get back to cramming and he seems to get the hint.

"Right, right, you won't even know I'm here," he assures you.

And despite that, the entire night passes without you once forgetting it. Not that he's distracting or anything, in fact he falls asleep mere minutes after telling you that - leaving you to work peacefully for the rest of the night. Instead, his presence, even as he sleeps, even through a screen and halfway across the world, is enough. You find yourself smiling as you study because maybe having a long-distance boyfriend, even one as clingy as Franco, has been a blessing in disguise all this time.

[ultimate-shipper-blog]

I'll Send an SOS to Your Heart

-------

"Ok, I'm imagining things."

Steve is laying on his bed watching his lights flicker.

He plugged in one of those space projectors that's supposed to make your ceiling look like the night sky.

It's not weird that they're flickering, the light was a dollar at Melvads he wasn't expecting it to work long.

The weird part is that the stars keep making a heart shape.

He sees the heart flash a couple of times before he flips over and hides deeper into his pillow.

"No." He groans. "No more upside down shit."

If some upside-down monster was flirting with him he quits.

All the lights in his room surge to maximum brightness.

"Fuck off."

The lights draw a middle finger.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" He jumps out of bed and points at the orbs.

It draws a winky face. (;P)

"Who are you?"

His blood runs cold. An upside down monster can't flirt with him. They don't know English. He has an idea but it can't be true.

They left him there. He's dead.

...isn't he?

'SOS' the lights read.

"Fuck." Tears spring to his eyes. "Eddie?"

'Hiya'

-----

He spends a while talking to Eddie.

It's tough.

It takes a while to write everything out and Steve is still trying not to hyperventilate or cry or pass out so it's taking a lot of energy to keep up the conversation.

'Sleep?'

"No."

'?'

"Nothing I'm just...not tired."

'Liar'

"WHAT! I'm not I just-"

'-_-'

"Fine."

':)'

"I'm scared."

'Me?'

"No, I'm scared this is a dream. That I fell asleep hours ago and I made you out of my guilty conscious. I just don't want to lose you...again."

'Back'

"Back?"

'Bring back'

"Bring...you back?"

'YES'

"You think we can bring you back?"

'Plan'

"Yes! I'll call everyone we can figure it out. Oh! We have El to help us this time! You're gonna love her Eds she's just like the kids you look out for and she's magic! I'll call them right-"

'NO'

"No?"

'tom- sleep now'

"I think this is a little more important than-"

'Sleep <3'

Steve looks over at the clock, 4 am.

Shit.

"Ok. I'm going to sleep. Will you...will you be here in the morning?"

'W STEVIE'

"Ok. Goodnight Eddie."

'GN <3'

----

The plan goes off without a hitch.

It takes them about two weeks to formulate and execute the plan.

Steve spends his days and nights talking to Eddie, keeping him updated. Keeping him in his life.

He speed runs a crisis or two when he realizes he wants to spend the remainder of his days speaking to Eddie.

He can't wait until he's here with him.

Alive.

-----

So it's more complicated than he thought.

Maybe there's a hoard or bats blocking them from Eddie.

Maybe Steve throws himself in front of the kids and fights off the creatures long enough for them to find Eddie and get him back home.

Maybe Steve bleeds a little too much and collapsed as soon as they reach the other side.

----

He wakes in the hospital to nine pairs of eyes staring at him.

They're all arguing with each other. Their voices low as if they're trying not to wake them.

He wants to talk he wants to reach out.

Eddie is standing by the door in a baseball cap and sunglasses as if he was trying to be inconspicuous.

As if Eddie could ever hide from Steve. Steve would find him anywhere he is.

God, he's here! He's in the room! All this time apart and he's so close!

"Mphahhpsh" he can't form words but it doesn't matter.

Everyone stops and Eddie's eyes meet his. His eyes look wet and he looks skinny and exhausted.

He's never looked more beautiful.

Eddie's eyes turn down into a determined glare. He pushes past everyone until he's inches away from Steve.

He takes a deep breath and then leans down and kisses him.

Flat on the mouth. In front of everyone.

The shocked noises are what pulls them apart.

"I'm so happy to see you, I really like you," Steve says.

"That's my line." Eddie smiles and kisses him again.

"Don't ever try to save me again I can't ever see you in a hospital again," Eddie presses their noses together.

"That's my line."

Eddie chuckles and pushes his nose into Steve's cheek. "Dork."

"Yes, yes, you're both terrible. Now what the fuck is happening."

They break apart to see the crews shocked faces. Mike's face is pale and Dustin is an interesting shade of red.

Robin is staring at him a little proud.

He sends a wink her way and pulls Eddie in closer.

They'll figure it all out later. They have time.

----

This started with once sentence in my brain and grew into three different plot points I put together in a rush. :P

Please comment I love to read em!

[valeriele3]

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

𝒮𝑒𝓁𝒻-𝒜𝓌𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝓀𝒶𝒾 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇 𝑅𝒶𝒾𝓁

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

✎ Sorry for the somewhat rushed ending! ^^;

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

Messages.

Idle chats.

You were answering them like normal. Sometimes even giggling on the messages

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

You log in, check your messages, answer them if there's one, do daily tasks, and maybe farm, then log out. That was your daily routine in HSR.

However, you begin to notice how much more frequent the chats are. After assigning an assignment, you get a new message. 'Oh well. Free jades," you thought.

Every time you beat an enemy, boss, or do anything in the game, you will notice a new message.

'Maybe it was an update? Or a bug?' You brushed it all off and thought nothing of it.

You would answer all of them wholeheartedly; after all, you also noticed that if the character liked what you said, you'd receive more Stellar Jades.

You'd talk about it with your friends, but they'd respond with "I wish", "Oh shut up~ Don't make me hope", and "Hm? Is your game bugged?? Or is mine bugged? I don't get any of those benefits..So unfair."

You try to check the dev logs to see if there was an update regarding the messaging feature, but whenever you try to look at them, your computer freezes.

'No matter, I can just check using my phone.' No luck; it also freezes.

'Maybe my tablet?' Still the same.

Frustrated, you ask one of your friends to look into it. "There's no update or any fixes on it, Y/N. Maybe you should report it; your game might really be bugged."

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

Deciding to report it, you open up Bug Report, but then your screen freezes again.

It then opens up the messages, and you read the following words:

| Hey

| Please don't do it.

| It took such a long time to break the code, you know.

| Hey

| Are you still there?

| Oh

| Right

The messaging bubble pops up.

| You can type now.

"W-What.." You stare at your screen dumbfounded.

Reaching out to your keyboard, hoping it won't work and choices will pop up, you press a random key, and it works

Startled, you immediately plugged out the cables on your computer, causing it to shut down.

You grab your phone and start messaging one of your friends. Before you could hit send, the screen blackened, and then in the next second, it lit up with a notification.

"Hey, we were in the middle of a conversation."

"Why did you suddenly leave?"

Your hand trembles. 'Shit, how..How did it get to my phone too..'

"I know I like reading self-aware au's but I didn't want it to actually be true!" You scream, throwing your phone across the room.

You can hear it dinging with new message after new message.

You decide to leave your room for a bit to calm down.

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

"Ok..Be calm..I'm probably dreaming, right?"

"There's no way this kind of thing will actually happen in real life."

"I need to think about this rationally. I could try to get my phone and computer fixed..Maybe I accidentally got a bug."

"Oh, my tablet too..It probably has the same bug.."

"Then, uhm, should I tell them about this? No, maybe..Agh! This is so frustrating..!"

After going back and forth, you decided to sell your gadgets instead of trying to repair them. Buying new ones is much cheaper than trying to get them fixed.

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

The first month was alright. You also stopped playing HSR just in case something of the sort would happen again.

However, everything changed when you awoke to your notifications going off like crazy.

【Luka】

| Hey! Y/N, wanna come watch my tournament this week?

【Qingque】

| Y/N

| This is urgent. Come to Exalting Sanctum

| Watch me go against this pro. I'm sure with your attendance I'll easily win.

【Robin】

| Y/N, would you like to come watch my concert?

| Don't worry! I made sure that you'd get the best seat.

【Sunday】

| Y/N. Do me a favor and attend Robin's concert, will you?

| If you don't..

| Well, it'll certainly make her sad. As for me, it's best you don't know.

【Arlan】

| Hello, Y/N

| Would you like to accompany me with walking Peppy?

【Blade】

| Come.

【Bailu】

| Y/N!

| I have made a huge discovery!

| Meet me at Aurum Alley!

【M̵̛̼̘̭͎͓̘̘̽̎̃̊̄͋̈́̑̇i̵̡̨̡͎̖̮͉̺̣͂ͅs̴̰͂̉́̅͒̆̄́̄̋̚͜͠͠͝ͅȟ̵͉̹̖͍͎̱̭̳̰̘̀a̵̧̨͔̣̘̮̻̐̆̌̀͑̊̄̄͌͗̓̌͘̕̚】

| C̷̛͇̬̥̼̲̙̠͓̭̺̱̻̟͖̜̾͑͋͊́̀̕͝ä̷̡̨̨̨̡̤̫͔̼̗̫̪̟̰́̏́̾̄͘͝ͅn̸̡̪̱̻̜̻̺͊̍͒̂͗̀̍͐̔͆̆̎̚̕̕ ̷̛̻̟̀̇͐͋̋̌̂͒́͑̏͝y̴̮͆͒̈͒͑͋͆̒̂̓̕͘̚͝͝o̸̩̫̰̤͌̈͝ͅu̷̻̗͉̥̺͕͉͔̠̯͇̭̖̐͜ ̵͖̲̼̥͑͝ḣ̵̟͓̆͌̄̑̂̈́̓̚͘̕͝͝e̷͖̥̜̅͛̂̒͒̕͜a̶̧̫̹͉͆͑̊͊̊̐̐̂̈̉̾͜͝r̶͎̫͛̑͊͌͐̎ ̴̢̢̛͓͉̮͇̞̬̪͔͓̦̾̓̈́̀͐̀̂̀͒͝ͅm̴̤̙͎̽͋̽̇͛́͑͌̃͑̊e̷̦͚̔́̔̀̒͊͂̔̕̚͝.̵͎͓̪̥͍̍̓͂̾̌̂̌̚̚ͅ.̵̨̟͉͕͈̜͎̻̗͓̯̜̜̩̓̈́̓͊̆̓̑͐̈̐̄̀̕?̵̙̠͚̆͊͊̇͌

【Aventurine】

| Why're you ignoring my calls and texts?

| Is the money not enough for you?

【Pela】

| The Tale of the Winterlands original artbook sold out in 1 second again

| But

| I was fast enough to get you a copy too

| Don't worry. I'm messaging the right person this time

【Natasha】

| Y/N, did your cold get better?

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

You stare at your phone, frozen. Even as you were sitting there staring at it, the messages continued to flood nonstop.

It

Was

Nonstop

Even if it's on silent mode and DND, you can still hear it dinging.

At one point, the messages started appearing in all the social apps that you use.

Hell, it even started appearing in your smart fridge

You deleted and deactivated everything. Throwing away any and all sorts of electronics that could potentially be used for apps.

But you could still hear it.

Even the sound of the doorbell ringing, the kettle whistling, or your telephone ringing makes you panic. 'What if that's them?' You always think

Every creak, every shuffle, and every little sound makes you paranoid.

What if they cross over to Earth? What will you do? You can't run from them. Even if you do, they'll be able to find you easily.

[phyrestartr]

Icarus, I Am Devoted | Sukuna x M!Reader

Main Fic W/C: 5.9k Bonus Drabbles W/C: 1.6k

[#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, I KINDA EDITED BUT I JUST WANT THIS TO BE YEETED INTO THE OPEN OK BYE SORRY IF PARTS ARE CLUNKY]

@better-imagination-9 I summon thee

--

Sukuna didn't like Yuuji getting caught up in his business. 

He was too brash, thought himself too badass for the world to take down, thought gang life wasn't as bad as it was made out to be, just because his older brother was involved. Sukuna didn't know where the fuck he got that idea–the tattooed menace had killed people, stolen money, sold shit that ruined lives. It was fun for him, sure, but not so much for bystanders. 

“You're an idiot,” Sukuna growled as he dragged his brother into his office and threw him at the chaise lounge while they waited for their doctor on demand. 

“H-hey, come on, man! It's, uh, it's not even that bad–” Yuuji grimaced, though, holding at the wound gushing blood from his arm. “You've had worse!”

Sukuna laughed bitterly as his henchmen flooded the room and made necessary preparations for their aid's arrival. “You and I are fucking built different, Yuuji--you’re too damn soft for–”

“I'm not,” Yuuji snapped, honeyed eyes blazing. “I'm not.” 

Sukuna laughed again, then ripped his plush, leather chair across the room, sending it hurtling into the expensive ebony walls he encased his place of business in. He roared in overwhelming fury as it clattered to the floor. 

“How hard is it for you to listen? How come you can never just fucking–” 

“Yelling won't solve things,” your cool voice interrupted as you hurried into the room, medical bag in hand. “I thought you learned that by now.” 

Sukuna whirled on his heel. His hands were still fisted in his hair and his blood boiled, but now, there existed an explosive tension with you in the room. 

You, his pretty little omega. The one he chased away. The one he still craved. The one that drove him insane. 

“Uraume,” Sukuna growled, crimson eyes locking onto his most devoted. 

“My apologies,” they said with a pensive look and deep bow, “he was the only one willing to come.” 

“So mind your manners, or I'll let your brother bleed out,” you said airily, so haughty and bitchy and annoying. But Sukuna knew you wouldn't let Yuuji die. You wouldn't let him suffer with a wound like that–you were too fond of the little brat. 

Sukuna snarled in frustration and fixed his jacket with sharp tugs. “Just fix him.”

He stalked away, ignoring the way Yuuji yelled at him before preening at you as you tended to him. Sukuna knew his brother had a bit of a thing for you, his bitch, which caused more than a handful of problems with the two arguing and fighting for your affections. Naturally, you chose Sukuna. Of course you would.

The alpha's frustrations boiled, reducing the rage in his gut into simmering desire. He leaned his head back against the elevator mirror with a sigh as it shot up toward the penthouse--the one you, too, used to occupy. The one where you'd spread your legs for him, drowning in expensive, black silk sheets while he bred you like the good little thing you were. The one where you'd cook for him if (when) you woke up before him the morning after. The one where you first whispered I love you against his skin when you thought he was asleep.

The elevator doors dinged open, and he stormed out, eager to rid himself of the tightness pulling at his slacks. A cigar and a drink sounded good, too. 

–

Ding. 

He knew it was you. It had to be you. You were a good person, willing to let Uraume rest while you gave your ex the update he needed about his brother. After all, you didn't fear him, nor did you yearn to please him. You were more than capable of delivering shit news and getting off scotch free. 

“So?” Sukuna took a deep puff from his cigar and leaned further into the balcony railing as you approached. 

You hummed as you sidled up next to him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as the breeze tugged at it. “He'll be fine. Yuuji's tough. He's a bit shaken up now that the adrenaline’s worn off, though.” 

“Maybe that'll teach that idiot not to get shot.” 

“Probably not.” 

“Probably not,” Sukuna sighed, tapping off a dash of ash from the butt of his cigar just before it was plucked from his hands. “Oi.” 

“These things'll kill you,” you scolded airily. “So will that.” You tried reaching for the crystalline glass of amber, too, when Sukuna scoffed and took a sip to spite you. 

“Don't,” he snarled. Any normal omega would have backed away. Any normal omega would have keened. Any normal omega would have tried to please him up with a sweet scent of submission. But you were a different breed entirely. 

“Don't growl at me–” you gaped as Sukuna downed the expensive liquor before whipping the glass at the skyline. “Sukuna.”

He stalked back into his penthouse with heavy steps as he ran his hands through his hair. He had to busy his fingers, his palms, just so he wasn't tempted to touch you, to grab you like he was used to. It'd been years since you were properly together–properly engaged in fact–but he still couldn't shake those infuriating fucking habits. You were a cancer in his mind, plaguing his body and thoughts. 

But he didn't want you to leave. Maybe he liked the chase. Maybe he just liked how his entire, explosive world narrowed down to just one infuriating thing that he wanted so badly. He didn't know. Maybe he didn't need to know. 

Sukuna poured himself another drink and collapsed onto his soft leather couch with a deep sigh. His arms draped along the back, one hand still holding the glass by the rim. He let his head fall back, and stared at the ceiling. 

Thankfully, you wandered in. And you wandered toward him, not to the door like you usually did when his temper flared and he acted out. Something small and pathetic in him uncoiled and settled down, purring in content when you took a seat beside him. 

“What's going on?” you asked quietly. Your fingertips singed sparks of pleasure against his skin where you touched: his cheekbones, his hairline, his furrowed brow.

He lolled his head to the side to look at you, his stupid pretty boy. “Nothing.” Not even Sukuna believed that.

You brushed his hair back, and the stupid alpha in him rose to the surface and moaned. “Yuuji’s not behaving?” Your warm palm cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it. 

“That little shit never behaves,” he mumbled through the vibrato of purrs rumbling from his chest. “Gonna make me die young.” 

“Hm. Is that why you haven't slept?” 

“I'm sleeping.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

“Sukuna.”

“I said–” 

“You and I have different definitions of ‘enough,’” you chided lightly, like you were scolding one of your cats. “You look tired.” 

“Maybe it's because my mate scampered off in the middle of the night.” 

“Don't blame this on me.” 

“Why not?” Wine-red eyes glowered at you, deciding whether he should dominate or decimate you. “It's your fault.” 

You recoiled the slightest bit, your top lip twitching in that oh-so familiar way it did whenever you were close to snarling and snapping at him. You had such a temper for such a calm thing. Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't try to rile you up on purpose. 

“Ho? What,” he started, grinning wickedly when you made a move to get up, but his arms snaked around you and held like wrought iron. “Feelin’ guilty?” 

“No,” you hissed, half-pissed by his drink spilling on you, half-pissed by his accusation. “Let go. I'm leaving.” 

“Leaving?” He crooned. “You always get so pissy when I don't wanna talk, ‘n now that I'm in the mood, you're tryna leave? Come on, sweetheart, that's not fair.” 

“I don't feel like fucking fighting tonight,” you snapped, and Sukuna stayed quiet for a change. “Yuuji got shot. You look like shit. And we--I haven't–” you took a deep breath. “Can't we just be civil for a night? Can't we just talk about–”

“About what?”

“About whatever.” 

“Fine.”

“Alright. Okay.” 

Somewhere behind the haze of alcohol, Sukuna's consciousness celebrated–this could be his shot at starting to fix things. This was his moment to rebuild that lost relationship and maybe clean up a space in his life for you to sit safely in. Your expectant expression agreed with him. You looked quite cute, what with your big eyes and the way you leaned into him. But instead–

“Was it a boy or a girl?” Sukuna asked before taking a sip of whatever remained in his glass. 

You blinked and shook your head, eyes narrowing the slightest as you looked over his face. “What?” You asked. 

Sukuna snorted and turned to face you, one arm gesturing with his scotch glass while the other arm stayed slung across the back of the couch. “I said,” he started, gesturing to your stomach and chuckling through his low, bassy words, “boy or girl? If it was a girl, then maybe the world did you a favour. You know how it is for women in this day and age.” 

You stared blankly like you were shellshocked, and Sukuna bubbled with near-manic, reedy laughter until you got up and walked to the door. 

“Oi, where the hell are you going, huh?” He got up and followed you, hastening his steps when he saw you b-line for the door. “Omega.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, purring into your ear as he pressed his chest to your back. “Come on, we can make another one. You'd like that, huh?” 

“Get off,” you barked, ripping his arms away from you. But he grabbed you again and spun you back to face him. You shoved him back, your mind whirling in a chaotic waltz drenched with grey thoughts and crimson rain that almost drowned out the words he barked at you until–

Whack. 

He hit you. Backhanded, fingers adorned with thick, bulky rings and knuckles that'd seen too many fights. A natural disaster contained in the vessel of a mortal man–sometimes, he didn't know his own capabilities.

“Shit,” Sukuna mumbled, scrambling to set down his glass to, what, tend to you? Rewind time? Sure. “Babe–” 

But you, too, were a natural disaster. The tsunami that came after an earthquake, raising tides high and staring down at split earth with a taunt: you think you're bad? Watch this.

Thwack. 

You snatched up that bottle of fancy scotch and hit a home run, watching Sukuna collapse to the floor.

–

Sukuna woke up with a concussion, his wallet missing, and one of his favourite cars torched. 

It got him riled up. He was too ready to hunt you down and make you rectify your mistakes–that is, until he remembered why you did what you did. 

Boy or girl?

Maybe the world did you a favour.

Fuck. He flew way too close to the sun this time.

He watched you stack up expenses on his card instead of hunting you. Your little rage-filled crime spree was kind of funny anyway, and he couldn’t help but hope it made you feel at least a little better. 

Though he knew it could never. Nothing could make it better. 

–

“You should quit messing around with him,” Ieiri said as she tended to the half-dead gangster laying on her operating table. “He's bad news. A kid like you shouldn’t be getting involved.” 

The one little, wiggly lucid part of Sukuna wanted to strangle Ieiri; you were young, sure, but not stupid. Sukuna wouldn't go so far as to say you were mature for your age, no, but you'd been beaten down by life and forced into the role of an adult for long enough that it'd changed your way of thinking, of perceiving the world. You could make your own choices–just as long as it involved him. 

“You're not the first person to tell me that,” you said softly, words rising with a small, warm chuckle. “Good guys try way too hard to put on a show, to hide how garbage they can be.” You squeezed Sukuna's hand and ran your thumb over his split knuckles. “Guys like him show you who they really are right away. Then, you get to figure out what his good side is like.” 

–

You were there again. In the elevator, looking a little pensive beyond your cool exterior. 

Sukuna took a drag from his cigarette as he stepped in beside you. The button for his penthouse leered at him and whispered, “you have time.” 

All he had to do was think of what to say. The right course of action was obvious, but–well, was it really his fault? He couldn't accept that 100%. You clocked him upside the head with a fucking glass bottle and stole his– 

“Those things'll kill you.” Your fingers snatched the smoke from his lips before he realized it. He caught you butting it out on the fancy gold railings. 

“I like things that can kill me,” he hummed, lighting another cigarette and chuckling when you snatched that one too. “What, scared of a little competition?” 

“Yes.” 

Oh. Sukuna liked that.

“I, uh,” you started, fumbling with your pockets before handing something over. “Found this.” 

Sukuna glanced your way finally. He couldn't help but laugh as he plucked the wallet from your hands. 

“Found it, huh?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Such a benevolent, pious thing. I would've kept it.” 

“Yeah, well. You're a dick. ‘Course you would.” 

“Where'd you find it?” 

“My pocket.” 

“No shit.” 

“Yeah. Weird.” 

The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the empty hall leading to the penthouse. He glanced down at the door before looking back down at you. 

“Have a drink with me.”

Your expression soured. 

Sukuna threw his arm against the doors to keep them open. “Coffee?” 

Your brows lifted, the creases smoothing from your face. “Coffee.” 

Sukuna's alpha bloomed with pleased content. He sidled up next to you and rested his broad hand on the small of your back, leading you down the hall. 

“With a bit of Baileys.”

“No Baileys.”

–

He let you try to sooth his stress while you waited for your favourite, poor-person coffee to brew. 

You straddled his thick thighs as you kissed at his neck. Your hands roamed and threaded through his gelled hair, your blunt nails dragged along his scalp, coaxing rumbling purrs out of your alpha.

“Shit,” he moaned, leaning back into your hands, digging his head into your digits and grumbling like an old dog. You hummed in sympathy, and gave him harsher scritches, making his knee bounce in double time like a dog getting the spot scratched.

You weren’t done, though. You licked at his neck’s scent gland and coaxed more of his natural musk to the surface to mix with yours–a classic way to get one’s partner to calm down. You were methodical as fuck about it, too, knowing how Sukuna’s stress abruptly blocked any good scents in favour of excreting foul, angry odors into the air when he was pissed. Or, sometimes, he’d shut down completely, the only scent coming from what clung to his skin and clothes. 

And so, he needed a little more TLC to get things flowing again, to make his body disarm and let the good vibes flow. 

You nipped the swollen spot lightly, eliciting a strangled growl from the man. “Too rough?” Your tongue pressed at the spot again, and pulled more of that deep purring out of him. “Maybe not.” 

“By all means, rough me up.” That was as close to a warning as you would get from a greedy bastard like Sukuna. He wanted you to bite harder, to break skin and set the wild tornado of a mating rut into motion. You were careful to avoid him when your unholy heats crashed down on you, but being in the presence of your estranged man when he was set off–well, it’d jumpstart your sex-crazed frenzy, too. 

“Raincheck,” you murmured. 

He huffed and rubbed circles in your hips before grabbing your ass and squeezing. “When's the last time–” 

The coffee maker sang a tune and you got off, saved from your warm, fuzzy marking daze. “Does it matter?”

Sukuna got up and stalked after you, rubbing the ache out of his shoulder. “Like it or not, we're stuck with our binding vow.” His chest pressed to your back, his arms slipping around your waist as he leaned down to nuzzle into your skin. “Mated for life.” He couldn't help the smile that branded into your neck. 

You cleared your throat and snatched up two mugs. “There're surgeries–”

“No.” 

“How do you take your coffee again?” Hah. You didn't even try to argue it.

Sukuna's ego boomed. His scent grew more dominating and demanding in tow. “You know how I like it. You know the way I like everything.”

You scoffed and slapped his hand away, the sweet, teasing omega that happily marked him up and scented him to high heaven gone, now replaced with your annoying, bratty self. Ugh. He loved it as much as he hated it.

“You used to be cuter,” Sukuna commented, quiet and breathy, so out of character. His hands retreated back to hold your waist instead of keeping you trapped against him. “What happened to–”

“You know what happened.” You sounded tired, too. Angry. But not at the Sukuna standing with you right then and there. 

Sukuna's old friend, unyielding frustration, bore down on him. He sucked his teeth and beat down the urge to snap, to yell and scream, claim it wasn't his fucking fault and that you never filled him in, so how could–

His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I don't,” he sighed. “I don't fucking know, (Name). We lost our kid, I know that much, so what the fuck else is there?” 

For a moment, he thought he'd lost you again. He expected you to whirl around, throw a cup at his head and curse him to hell to start off another fight; instead, you slipped out of his hands gently, and replaced your warmth with a cup of coffee. 

“Come sit.” 

Sukuna complied. 

You tucked your legs up under you when you sat down. Your own mug was held snugly with both hands, yet your fingers fidgeted, twirling around whatever rings you had on while you thought of what to say. 

“So,” you started. “How much do you know?”

Sukuna leaned back and thought. “Uraume called. Said something was wrong.” He could remember their voice ringing in his ear, that usual, frigid demeanor exploding into something panicked and tortured as they tried to comfort you, order idiots around, and explain the situation. “They didn’t know what, but said you were bein’ taken to Ieiri. I met ‘em there, Gojo wouldn’t let me come in.” He sighed, the memories pricking his nerves. “Told me you miscarried, and–well, that’s more or less it.” 

You nodded a little, digesting the scraps of knowledge that’d been given to Sukuna. “I was alone,” you breathed. “I was–I’d been cramping. A lot. I thought–I didn't know–I just–I thought it was normal.” You cleared your throat, fidgeting more and only stilling when Sukuna's palm rested on your leg. You covered his hand with one of yours. “There was a lot of blood. I thought I was dying. Uraume and Yuuji took me to Ieiri.” 

Sukuna remembered that, too. He remembered catching sight of you just before his brother carried you away from him. It was hard to forget the sound of your wailing amidst all that red–that damned noise came from hell itself, from the burning, fetid pits of agony and despair and up through your beautiful voice. For something so foul to touch you was nothing but blasphemous.

Sukuna tried to follow you in, but that moron Gojo wouldn’t let him in, spouting some bullshit about how he’d make things worse. Needless to say, Sukuna snapped, and Ieiri suddenly had more than a mourning omega to deal with.

“I pinned it on you to cope. I didn’t know what else to do.” You spared a shy glance at him before staring down again. “...Uraume filled me in, though. You were dealing with so much shit. All that crap with the Zenins. And you didn’t even–you didn’t even know I was knocked up until I wasn’t.” You sighed and sipped your drink before setting it aside. “Guess it was easier to blame you for everything than it was to just accept I got unlucky.” 

“‘Unlucky’?” Sukuna repeated lowly, void of mirth for once.

You nodded. “Chromosome bullshit, garbage genetics, a shitty cervix. Coulda been anything.” Sukuna watched your expression shift from desolate to bitter. “And if you fuck up once and lose your pup, odds are it’ll happen again.”

“Says who?”

“Science. Doctors.”

“You really gonna take their word like that?” Your eyes met his, doey and expectant. “I'll gut ‘em myself if they say that shit next time you're knocked up.”

You looked a bit bashful then, looking away from him with pursed lips and glossy eyes. For a second, Sukuna thought you were about to snap and argue with him about how you vowed to never get pregnant again (which he'd indulge in), or maybe even bolt for the door (which he wouldn't allow), but instead, you grabbed the remote. 

“Tch. Don't say such stupid shit. It's annoying.” 

Sukuna could only grin to himself as you settled in beside him, tucking up against his side. Neither of you could swallow your pride enough to properly apologize for anything ever, but that wasn't necessarily needed–understanding was what was needed. Things had just become a little bit clearer. 

–

For once, the alpha found himself at ease. Sure, you had your petty and some less-than-petty spats, but there was a coil of contentment that stayed at the forefront of Sukuna's mind through it all. Now, he no longer fumed nor bristled, no longer wondered if you really belonged to him, no longer thought about how to trap you if he wanted to keep you around. 

Because you made more of an effort to see him, to call when you couldn't, to set his vicious wolf's heart at ease so he could rest soundly. He rested the most when you were so gracious as to curl up in those black, silken sheets with him, too.

Don't get too excited. It's just because we're mated; we'd go insane otherwise, Is how you rationalized it. And, honestly, it was cute to see you act so flippant and uncaring when Sukuna knew you were so the opposite. 

Little liar. Loves playing pretend. He gently tucked stray hairs behind your ear as you snoozed soundly beside him. It was unlike you to sleep in so late (“late” meaning past 6am), and it was unlike Sukuna to wake up before you, so it must have been kismet. 

Because this moment was the first in a long time where he got to touch you. Beyond the playful ass slaps and grabs at your hips, you never really let him feel you. Or did he just never try to touch you like this? Gently, just for the sake of feeling your skin and your warmth? 

Sukuna was a brutal man. He didn't often have a chance to be careful. If he'd had that kid, then he might've learned how; he could've learned not to throw glasses at skylines, not to lash out at his omega, not to expect you to still love you when he broke you. 

He brushed his thumb along your cheek and down to your jaw, admiring the soft skin and strong angle that led him to the curve of your chin, and your perfect lips. God, he wanted to kiss you. It'd been an eternity since he had a taste of you. Maybe if he was gentle–

I can do gentle. Sukuna shifted the slightest bit towards you until his nose lightly brushed against yours, until he felt your light breaths fan against his skin. Ah, why was his heart beating so fast now?

He did his best to ignore the way his pulse thundered in his ears when he brushed his lips against yours once more, before he kissed you softly. Gently. Perfectly. And he took his time parting. He had to savour the taste of your lips against his because who knew when he'd get to kiss you again? 

I love you, he heard echo in his memories when your lips parted. But he never heard himself reply. 

“Love you too, brat,” he murmured. “Don't you dare think otherwise.” 

Your eyes opened a moment later. “You mean that?” came your reply, just as light and whispered. Sukuna felt waves of heat come off your skin–were you blushing?

Crimson eyes flickered from your bashful look to the slight parting of your lips and back again. “Always.” Even though he never said it. But he let you get away with everything to show that love–credit card theft, cracking him upside the head with a bottle, abandoning him for months on end.

A soft ‘hm’ hummed through you. Your sleepy gaze melted from Sukuna’s, and down to his lips, too, while your own pursed, pensive. Thoughtful. Christ, you were really something else–just a single look from you had his mind reeling, his chest easing into a warmth so reminiscent of a campfire, the sort you both used to sit around when you’d bullied Sukuna into buying one for his too-big balcony. 

Back then, you were just “friends,” though the flirting and meaningful touches said otherwise. You were still a street doctor, introduced to him by Yuuji of all people, but you had more pep in your step, especially when you worked to try and swoon the hardened, deranged alpha you’d decided belonged to you. You’re mine, you said simply after shooting whatever whore the big, bad boss had hired for the night. The look in your eyes, cold and determined, got Sukuna achingly hard in an instant. He never wanted you to look at anyone else like that–your rage, your obsession, it could only ever be for him.

“‘M I still yours?” You still want me? You still love me? Am I still just for you?

You looked a little sentimental. A little sad, too, maybe. But maybe it was just the culmination of your fears and worries, your wants and desires finally breaking through your solemn being. 

“I'm a minimalist at heart. I've only got room for so much.”

“Don't tell me you're back on that Kondo Marie kick–” 

“But you're something I can't do without.” Yeah, I love you. I want you. I don't want much, but I want you. You're mine. “You bring me joy, or whatever the saying is. But I wanna beat the shit outta you sometimes for being a dumbass.” 

Sukuna laughed and nudged your nose with his–a small, primal gesture of fondness. “Yeah, yeah, I'm aware. Tch. You're gonna have to be careful--you're gonna send my old ass to an early grave if you keep up with all this fiery youth shit.”

“Then I can inherit your fortune,” you offered airily before kissing him teasingly. Sukuna growled when your small fangs dug into his bottom lip playfully. “That'd be nice.” 

“Hah. Everything's going to family–Yuuji, the old fart.” Sukuna pulled you in closer and purred as you complied. “You'd have to–”

“I'll marry you if that's what it takes,” you cooed, and Sukuna froze. You paused for a moment, too, before lifting yourself up to look down at his dumb face. “Oi.” You pat his cheek lightly but he scowled at you, half-cranky, half-defeated. “Eeeh? You mad?”

“Tch.”

“Awe, big alpha's mad.”

“Don't.” A command. A warning. One that had your subgender reeling and whimpering behind you, but your human side smiling, ready to mock. 

You slid on top of him, straddling his waist and splaying your hands out on his broad, solid chest. Sukuna still kept his gaze elsewhere. Honestly, you couldn't blame him--you were in a mood. 

“Oi,” you prodded, poking at his ridiculous pecs and tracing over the dark lines of his irezumi. “Hey. Don't pout.” But he grabbed your hands when your stupid fingers threatened to assault his nipples, and he continued to pout. “Come on, I said I'd marry you.” 

“Tch.” You've said that before. 

“I mean it.” 

“Tch.” You’ve said that before, too.

You leaned down, and nuzzled the hollow of his cheek while he grumbled and grumped. “You don't like the idea of breeding me anymore? You don't want me to yourself, all caught up in your bedsheets with you between my legs? Hm? You don't wanna fuck me through my heat, knock me up a few more times, make me bare your children for the world to see how I belong to Ryoumen Sukuna? You don't want me to be drenched in your scent–” 

You squeaked when your man flipped you around, pinning you before ripping off the sleep shorts keeping your skin from him. His rough fingers dove deep into your slicked up hole (apparently your long list of hypotheticals had worked you up into a soft, wet, pliant thing) and hurried to stretch you wide. 

“Such an annoying little shit,” Sukuna grumbled. And you laughed, lightly and so achingly genuinely through your fluttery mewls and moans. “If you try ‘n back out this time, I'll break your fucking legs and tie you down to the bed, you got that? I'm not gonna be so fucking nice this time.”

“Eh? You were being nice last–” you whined when his wet fingers jammed into your mouth. But you obediently sucked and bit at them, holding onto his muscled arm for leverage while he kicked off his bottoms and pressed his sweltering tip to your soft entrance. 

“You got no idea, princess.” Sukuna pushed in, groaning with ancient, cursed need as your insides welcomed him and obeyed, letting his uncomfortable size push you open. Seemed your body still remembered him. Wanted him as much as your stupid pretty mouth claimed. 

You were gasping, your molars chewing into his fingers as your missing piece slid back into place, filling you up until it hurt to breathe. Strong thighs clamped down against Sukuna’s sides as he dragged you down, forcing the last bits of his cock into your very depths, squeezing a reedy whine out of you, before he pulled out and slammed right back in again and again and again.

Your cry nearly sent him over the edge. It was a loud, bassy thing, something like a cello toppling or having its string plucked too hard by a callous touch–a sound Sukuna reveled in. You were the only partner he'd had that was like this, so demanding and bitchy, absolutely horrible and as poisonous as alphas were, and he loved it. He lived and died by your gospel, by the very life that thrummed underneath his touch.

And you promised to be all his. Sukuna could have everything, anything and anyone, and that apparently included trapping and claiming a god. One that only he prayed to. One that'd only smile upon him. One that only delivered to him divine blessings. 

What a divine gift.

He folded you in half with ease and blanketed your trembling body with his own. The fingers fucking into your mouth slipped out and down to your throat where they squeezed lightly; then, they traveled to the back of your neck, found your cute little nape, and squeezed. 

Your eyes rolled back as your body arched up into him. Words left you in some ancient tongue neither you nor Sukuna could decipher. But it was a language of love and pleasure, the sort that brought delicious submission coiling through your blood in offering to the lowly creature devouring your holiness. 

“Sukuna,” you choked out. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and fisted in his hair, pulling him closer to the old, scarred mark left there by him a decade ago. “‘Kuna, I need–” 

The boss laughed low, but with fluttery, manic high tones warped throughout. “Need me to bite you? Mark you mine again?” He taunted. His nails dug into your soft side as he fucked into you harder, lifting your waist up to meet his brutal angle as his base started to swell. “I wanna hear you say it–say you need it, you want it. Say you need me to fill your guts every fucking night. Say I'm the only one who can get you there. I'm the only one–” his other hand grabbed your nape harder, forcing your submission further, forcing your neck to the side to present it to him. 

Then, with a snarl, he added, “say ‘I do.’” 

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you murmured those very words into his ear. 

I do. 

Sukuna's heart howled with the beast living inside him. Blood flooded his mouth when he tore into your shoulder, digging deeper than needed to brand you his again just before his pulsing knot squeezed into you and locked into place, stilling his wild rampage and holding you hostage beneath his hulking body. 

You shifted and writhed against him, so obviously overwhelmed by such an archaic, crazed union–your omega must have been going wild, willing you to fight against the monster pouring his seed into you, locking you in place, taking away your autonomy. But a short, rough warning growl settled your inner self the slightest bit and straightened out your thoughts enough for your human pettiness to urge you, too, to sink teeth into flesh and mark up your alpha to complete the re-bonding. 

Good boy. Sukuna's hips rutted against you in light pulses, attempting to jam his knot further into you to ensure you'd take everything he so graciously offered you. But every little move your bodies made together tore more hot strings of cum out of him and into your core. Apparently an eternity of not having you was culminating into this one moment. 

You were the one to let go first. You collapsed onto your back with a loud sigh, and the crushing constriction of your thighs laxed just slightly. 

“Fuck,” you gasped, wholly content and pleased. Your hand wiggled between your bodies and rested on the still-inflating curve that your partner had oh-so loving built out of cum and obsessive dedication. “That's gonna make a mess.” 

Good. Sukuna's chainsaw purr reverberated against your bloodied skin. He chewed into you further and relished in the taste and smell of you, the way it mingled with his own scent of existence and made him feel so irrevocably whole. 

Your fingers laced through his hair as you laughed. “Oi, let go already. Your knot's not gonna go down for like thirty minutes. I'm not going anywhere.” 

Your mate obliged, dislodging his chunky fangs from you and lapping at the wound dutifully until the bleeding staunched. Next, he got to work leaving an array of dark hickies and light bites all over your neck and shoulder, just in case the gnarly bite mark wasn't enough to ward off idiots who thought they had a chance with you. He grumbled at the mere idea of it. 

“So?” You cooed, running your hands up and down his muscled shoulders. “What do we do for half an hour?”

Sukuna scoffed. He tried to pull out just a bit, just to see if he was seriously locked in there, and you spat a vile hiss his way, your nails digging into him at the same time. And, fuck, you were tight–

“Fuck.” He didn't think this through.

-- DRABBLES --

“You're dumb as fuck, you know that?” 

“Ah, such romantic words to hear from my wife.”

“Husband, jackass.” 

Sukuna managed to open his eyes through the pounding of his head. God, he felt like shit. But that probably came with the territory of getting shot point-blank before bailing out of a moving car on the highway. Honestly, he was lucky only one car hit him when he hit the pavement. 

Still, it was bad enough to warrant him a ticket to the hospital. Uraume worked behind the scenes, ensuring their boss got a private room and that the police would stay the fuck away if they knew what was good for them, and it all somehow worked out. Uraume was definitely a sorcerer of sorts.

“Can you save it for home? Fucking hell,” Sukuna groaned, letting his eyes fall shut again. “Too tired to argue.” 

“That's a first,” You huffed, and marched up to his side, sitting down in the cozy seat waiting for you. Your careful touch prodded at his hand gently, as if assessing the damage, guestimating if you could hold his hand without hurting him, but he made the choice for you. He caught your hand weakly, and you held him safe with both of yours. 

“Missed you,” he grumbled, squeezing back lamely. “Have fun on the trip at least?”

“Yeah, until I heard what happened.” You sighed, watery and warbled. “I shouldn't have left. You're too stupid to survive alone.”

Sukuna laughed, then coughed. He felt you tense. “F-Fuck you, little shit. I'm fine.”

“You got shot.”

“Been shot before.”

“Jumped out of a car.”

“I've jumped outta faster.”

“Then got hit by another car.”

“That was a first.”

You sighed to fight back either a sob or ill-placed laughter, or maybe both. “This is so fucking ridiculous. Never make me take a vacation again. I can't be off fucking around in Hawaii when my baby daddy's getting hit like it's GTA.” 

“Christ, I already–” he paused, though, and cracked an eye open to look at you. “What did you…” 

He lost his words when he saw you. Your skin glowed in a way he hadn't had the luxury to see before. Your face looked rounder, too, like you'd put on a little bit of weight since you'd been gone. But your scent–your usual sweet, full-bodied scent of flowery coffee was cranked up to a trillion. If Sukuna's nose wasn't busted, he would've noticed the way it filled up the room, and he might've noticed how his own scent rose to meet it in greeting. Something strange was happening. 

“Oh. Right. Uh…” you cleared your throat and hastily tucked some hair behind your ear. You looked a little bit lost for words too, in all honesty. “I’m pregn–”

Sukuna sat up. You barked at him to lay down, your voice rising a few octaves when something that was probably important dislodged from his wrist as he reached forward when you stood. And you froze when his palm pressed against your stomach–a natural, maternal thing to do. Sukuna remembered when he caught your cat for you when she was trying to dart out the door whilst pregnant, and how she froze dead in her tracks when his hand caught her by her kitten-filled stomach, and let him carry her back inside. 

But this was different. This wasn’t his partner’s cat’s kittens he was feeling, it was yours. His. A shared little nugget doing its best to grow big for its expectant mama–and now expectant papa. 

“How long?” Sukuna rasped. When did his throat get so dry? 

“Two months. Ish.” You rested your hands over his again despite the awkward angle he caught you at. “I didn’t know until last week. I tried to call, but–” You got obliterated and couldn’t answer your phone.

“I get it. Don’t gotta explain.” Sukuna gazed at your stomach a moment longer with droopy, half-lidded eyes before looking up at you as nurses burst into the room. “You’re moving in.”

And for once, you didn’t argue. 

–

“Dude, you guys can't fuck when he's pregnant! You'll crush the baby like a tin can!” 

You snorted and tried to cover your mouth as your tea shot out your nose. You coughed and wheezed, turning away and waving at the brothers in a desperate plea for them to not look and continue their petty argument.

Sukuna, caught between the urge to mock you and kick the shit out of his annoying little fucknut brother, sighed and rubbed his face before handing you his fancy handkerchief he kept tucked in the breast of his jacket for nothing but looks. These days, though, the damn thing had been paying its dues. 

“You think I'm gonna listen to a fuckin’ virgin about this kinda shit?” Sukuna quipped back as he watched you clean up before trying to take a sip of your drink again. 

“Hey, man, I'm just saying. Your dick is like a third leg.” 

You slammed your hand down on the table after spitting a mouthful of tea back into your cup. “Yuuji. Please. Why do you even know that?” 

Yuuji pouted and scooted closer to you under the kotatsu. “Wh--we're brothers! It's not even that weird!” 

“It's weird as shit,” Sukuna offered as he reached out to rub your back. 

“So not weird.” His honeyed eyes locked onto the small affection the older showed you. “Man, so not fair you guys are ganging up on me now that you're, like, a thing,” Yuuji whined and let his arms and chest flop across the table like a petulant child. 

Sukuna smirked. “Jealous?”

You grumbled. “Sukuna. Don't start.”

Yuuji's ears turned bright red. “Jea–what?! No! I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence, not--I don't–”

“N'awe, little pup's tryna cope with losing.” Sukuna grinned wildly when Yuuji's head snapped up, pinning a deadly stare onto the older alpha. “Oh? Finally grow a pair?” 

“Sukuna,” you warned again.

“You better shut it, dude,” Yuuji threatened next, and you knew it was a lost cause; two alpha brothers, both incredibly competitive, both pining for the same omega, spelled disaster. 

Your partner laughed that familiar, ugly laugh–the sort that was too genuine and sounded borderline insane. “Or what? You gonna make me cry–” 

Yuuji launched over the table in an instant, tackling his brother to the ground with a bratty snarl. You watched on, unimpressed, waiting for any signs of their wrestling turning into a serious fight, but it never came. So, you enjoyed it a bit. It wasn't everyday the two idiots played nice. 

You rested your hands on your curved stomach while the two growled and snarled half-heartedly in their dumb attempt to subdue the other. Sukuna could've won in an instant, you both knew that, but he'd let Yuuji think he had a fighting chance for a little bit. It was part of the fun for him, letting his little brother gnaw on him like it'd do anything, letting him try to use his horrible jiu-jitsu skills on his older, bigger brother. It reminded you of–

“Oh,” you peeped when a rowdy kick jostled your hand. It didn't come from the boys, no, it came from the tiny tot inside you. 

The boys froze and stared at you.

“Huh? What's ‘oh'?” Yuuji asked through his panting and straining. Sukuna had him in a headlock, one of his hands giving a brutal noogie to the younger's head. 

“No, just–I think she kicked. Maybe not, I don't–” but your expression brightened with delight when another little throw hit your hand. 

“No shit?” Sukuna grinned, waves of excited alpha scent rolling off of him. He face-shoved Yuuji away before sidling up next to you and pressing his palm against your stomach. You guided his touch to rest over the kicky hotspot, and sure enough–

Thump. Thump.

“Two kicks for your old man, hey?” Sukuna hummed, looking so damn triumphant. 

“Hey, hey, I wanna feel!” Yuuji scrambled over like a nightmare and wiggled up on your other side, pointedly ignoring the snarl Sukuna sent his way. “Come on, it's my niece, chill out.”

Sukuna growled again, but you pulled his hand off to let Yuuji feel the little life making herself known. His eyes, too, lit up when those tiny thwacks battered his palm. 

You looked up at Sukuna dreamily, making the other's ticked expression smooth down into just mildly-annoyed; if your omega wasn't threatened, then he wasn't going to threaten. Sukuna didn't think Yuuji would hurt you, absolutely not, but anyone who came near you, or so much as accidentally bumped into you, pissed Sukuna off, sending his over-protective instincts into overdrive. He always had to rely on you to know when not to react.

“That's so cool!” Yuuji squeaked. “She's seriously in there!” 

“Where the fuck else would she be,” Sukuna grumped.

“Don't ruin his fun, Sukuna.” 

“Yeah, don’t ruin my fun!” 

“Yuuji’s banned from the house.”

“WH–HEY!!”

“Sukuna.”

“Heh.”

“What about gramps, then?” 

Sukuna paused. His heart stopped for a long, long moment. 

“What about him?” He answered, nonchalantly as possible. “Old fuck cut me off years ago.”

“He still cares,” Yuuji offered with a shrug. “And I told him about the pup ‘n everything.”

Sukuna frowned. “Yuuji–”

“You seriously think he doesn't give a shit? Dude, be real, the guy raised us.” 

“That's generous.” 

“Didn't you say you were leaving everything to Yuuji and ‘the old fart’ originally?” You cooed, unhelpful as ever. 

Carmine eyes found yours. “...If he actually wants to meet her–” 

“Awesome, I’ll let him know!” 

“Oi, runt–”

But Yuuji jumped up and pulled his phone out, leaving Sukuna to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into while you laughed at his misery. 

[maxtermind]

SCENE 1 :: YOU TORE ME RIGHT APART ↳ you were never not mine — carlos sainz ༉‧₊˚✧

★ : pairing :: carlos sainz x reader ★ : genre :: angst; fluff separated by a hidden emotional turmoil, carlos and y/n navigate the complexities of co-parenting their twins amidst the high-stakes f1 world. amidst paddock visits and personal healing, will they go further apart or find their way back to each other? ★ : a/n :: oh fuck okay here we go! let me know what you guys think so far <3 what are the theories!! ahhhhhh this is more introductory? but lots of drama nevertheless <3 please don't mention the diff twin pics, i'll start crying!

( series masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request )

yn.user 41 mins ago

yn.user boys are here to support their papa!

username OMG THE IT BABIES ARE BACK ON TRACK charlesleclerc I know they were rooting for me in red🏎 I loved the bracelet btw❤️‍🩹 ⤷ carlossainz dress up leo in red and leave my kids alone username I WOULD KILL TO HAVE Y/N AND CARLOS AS MY PARENTS carlossainz papa won this for his family👍 ⤷ username it's so cute that even though they are separated, carlos never leaves out y/n ⤷ username I think it's his loss, he wants them back so he's playing a persona w words like 'family' lol ⤷ username please get a life, touch some grass🙏 username THE BABIES MADE A BRACELET FOR CARLOS ⤷ landonorris I got one toooooo

carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)

instagram stories

lily is typing... (y/n's pov)

twitter

carlossainz 20 mins ago

carlossainz who said weekends with papa are a bore?

landonorris whoring on main papa sainz? ⤷ carlossainz please unfollow❤️ username DILFFFFF username carlos can I also be your baby mama???? y/n.user MUMMA MISSES HER BABIES ⤷ carlossainz we miss you too ⤷ username pretty sure she was talking about the kids carlos lmao username it's so strange that now we get the updates from separate accounts I miss the og paddock fam ⤷ username well people move on so🤷‍♀️ ⤷ username only the real ones rmb the sainz x y/n post spams lmao

yn.user just now

yn.user stole my tortured heart💫

username who plays cards alone on a beach? 👀 username y/n’s cryptic post has me guessing mhmmm a new love interest maybe?! ⤷ username cards on the beach when alone? definitely not alone. who’s the mystery company hehe carlossainz looks like a peaceful day. glad you're finding time for yourself! ⤷ yn.user hope the boys are still up! returning the call soon🥰 lilymhe finally enjoying some well-deserved relaxation💖 ⤷ yn.user love youuu username i see cards but no players. who's with you y/n username we need more context omg is this a date ⤷ username probably with lily lol username at first i thought you were with carlos but he's in the comments soooo does that mean a new romance

carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)

f1.wags 2 mins ago

f1.wags Our sources have spotted Y/N, ex-partner of F1 driver Carlos Sainz, enjoying a cozy dinner with an unidentified man. The two were seen sharing intimate moments, sparking rumors of a new romance. Could this be the start of a new chapter for Y/N? Stay tuned for more updates as we dig deeper into this developing story.

username wow, moving on already? poor carlos username she couldn't wait a little longer before flaunting her new man username guess she never really loved carlos. just saying ⤷ username carlos deserves better than someone who moves on so fast ⤷ username its been almost half a year? username poor kids. this is why you should never have kids out of wedlock ⤷ username hey good morning, i think you time traveled to 200 years forward. please go back username she’s just trying to make carlos jealous. grow up, y/n username so much for being a loving mother? priorities lol ⤷ username boys were with carlos for one weekend and this is how she spends it ⤷ username from a perfect family to this? disappointing username carlos is better off without her. clearly, she didn’t care about him ⤷ username fr y/n's true colors are showing now. carlos dodged a bullet

carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

OKAY HELLO UH. SAVANACLAW DREAM UPDATE SPOILERS ?!?!!2!!2!2

THE. WAY BOTH JACK AND RUGGIE ADMIRE LEONA SO MYCH AND FEATURE HIM IN THEIR DREAMS 😭😭😭😭 Jack making Leona basically nOT HAVE DEPRESSION QUFBWKANDK 😭😭 and making him a fair player... Jack my boy... your dream is lovely but you made him do stuff hED NEVER DO 😭😭

AND RUGGIE. THE FACT HE AND LEONA NEVER MET IN THIS DREAM *BUT* THE AMAZING DRESM SCHOOL HE ATTENDS WAS SKGNKENAKjfkenalNIfjeksksn MADE/PROPOSED TO BE MADE (?) BY LEONA 😭😭😭 AND HE SAYS THAT PRINCE LEONA IS MORE POPULAR THAN FALENA AMONGST TYE YOUTH AJFNWKNudnekskalakdknsk tHEY WANT ME DEAD. D E A D.

and then ... ruggie says smth about him choosing the king he'll follow and LATER WHEN REFERRING TO LEONA HE SAYS SMTH TO JACK LIKE. "LET'S GO WAKE UP OUR KING" I'm fuckifnwjzbslakznaklNdkdkals akehueuqjakansksk THEY ADORE HIM SO MUCH. I CAN'T DO THIS.

So this means we'll get a full chapter ONLY for Leona's dream... I don't think we'll see him crying like Jack and Ruggie but GOD IF WE DO SEE THAT I'LL BE FOUND DEAD- i just knowwww that whichever way they go w it (the "he already knows it's a dream theory" or SMTH else), there WILL BE drama and I *WILL* die internally... my Leona plushies will pay the price (they will be hugged very tightly)

[Referencing the book 7 part 11 update!]

Me, coping: Oh, the book 7 Savanaclaw update is split into two parts? That means the first part must be dedicated to Jack and Ruggie and the second part must be Leona only. Surely this means I am free from being sniped in the Jack and Ruggie segment. Me, from the future:

. . .

ME EXPERIENCING THE FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF ALL AT ONCE

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT 💀💀💀 I was kind of expecting some element of respecting their dorm leader to come up (definitely for Jack's), BUT NOT THIS EXTENT OTL

Of the two, Jack's dream was the more obvious one to feature Leona in a very positive light. His admiration for the guy was clear ever since book 2, in which Jack--someone who regularly sucks at expressing his feelings--confessed MULTIPLE TIMES that it was Leona's passionate magift play on TV that inspired Jack to follow in his footsteps. And that's why he was so disappointed to learn that the guy he admired all along was a scumbag that would play dirty to get ahead. The Leona in Jack's dream might be that version that Jack had in his head... The Leona he yearns for the attention and praise of, the Leona he thought was a virtuous leader who values hard work and good sportsmanship, the kind of person who gives speeches to inspire his team and helps people up by the hand when they fall. Another reading could be that this is the Leona Jack believes is still possible if he works toward it, because this dream seems to be set a YEAR after their loss to Diasomnia. And this is Leona at his best and most dangerous because he's throwing literally everything he has into this training, so he'll probably do the same in combat; Yuu and co. have to develop a whole strategy in advance to isolate Jack because they KNOW they're going to get blasted by dream!Leona if they give any inkling of trying to wake the dreamer up. JACK LITERALLY DREAMED ABOUT LEONA THRIVING, BEING HIS BEST SELF... Jack, the self-proclaimed LONE WOLF, who claims he doesn't like GROUP ACTIVITIES/SPORTS, longs to be part of the pack that LEONA leads... But he won't follow just anyone, Jack has standards AND LEONA APPARENTLY MEETS ALL OF THEM (or, in Jack's eyes, Leona can meet those standards).

THEN WHEN JACK WAKES UP... Hoo, boy... The way he was smiling but then broke down into shouts and sobs... That's literally got to be my favorite kind of emotional distress (part of why I loved Idia's breakdown when he was introducing his newly built little brother to the Styx researchers). You can hear how betrayed he feels in his voice, all the raw emotion that didn't come through as strongly in book 2. ASKHLBLBIASDIVDAI SORRY TO DUNK ON BOOK 2 AGAIN BUT IT'S TRUE. Jack's feelings of betrayal... They were so blunted there, it felt like he was reacting to a minor setback (he seems to easily shrug off being called a traitor by the guy he supposedly admires) rather than genuinely being hurt. I'm glad that the emotional weight that wasn't addressed then is finally getting the spotlight it deserves now.

Then Ruggie's dream???? 😭 That one caught me SO off-guard. The way it opens with Yuu and co. suspecting it's Leona's dream because they arrived in Sunrise City, one of the few industrialized places in Sunset Savanna... The lore review of how it's difficult to get the people to get behind developing the land due to how it would negatively impact the nature they want to live in harmony with (plus the brand-new reveal that these disagreements can become VIOLENT)... and Idia realizing that this, THIS is why Leona actually decided to take an internship at an energy and mining lab back home--because Leona realized he cannot change the country on his own, no matter how often he butts heads with his brother. He needs even more knowledge and a team to work with him. An NPC donut vendor lady randomly drops it on us that it's thanks the PRINCE LEONA that Ivorycliff Academy was able to be established. Not only that, but turns out Leona has graduated already and has spent his time after NRC building schools and establishing magift teams for Sunset Savanna (the latter being something Leona expressed interest in, as having a national sport and/or famous sporting teams can enhance his country's soft power). AND HE'S MORE POPULAR AMONG THE YOUTH THAN FALENA IS???????? MR. LEONA I-HATE-DEALING-WITH-KIDS KINGSCHOLAR IS POPULAR WITH... THE KIDS????? ? ?? ?? ?? ? ?? ?????? ?? ? 💀 The guy who claims to only help the underclassmen because they'd otherwise be an inconvenience to him... is admired by the same underclassmen... and now that has translated over to Ruggie's dream as the youth of Sunset Savanna loving him... OTL YOU'RE KIDDING ME RIGHT/????? ? ??? ? ??v????? ? ? ????

The most bewildering detail to me about Ruggie's dream is that he and Leona haven't met at all; Ruggie acts pretty clueless when asked about it and Leona graduated from a completely different school than him (NRC). There's no way they could have met, yet the dream still deemed that Leona was an important enough aspect of Ruggie's life that he was incorporated into it... and, unlike in real life, Leona now has the influence to make these systematic changes not just for bettering Ruggie's life, but the lives of everyone in Sunset Savanna...

UUUURURUGUUGHHGHHHHHHHGHGHHHHHHH H H HH H H HHHHHHH H H H HH H H AND THEN WWHEN RUGGIE FINALLY WAKES UP AND AND ANADNANDANDANASHADSNADSNADSNAN NDDDSDD SD SM ADSB,M ADSDBSM DDD HE CALLS HE WON'T FOLLOW A "FAKE KING", HE WANTS TO CHOSOE THE KING HE FOLLOWS 😭😭😭 RUGGIE TELLS JACK THEY SHOULD GO AND WAKE UP "OUR KING"... Ruggie, who constantly complains about how easy rich people have it and how hard Leona makes him work for his coin, is standing right here and HE'S CHOOSING LEONA.

This is all so crazy to think about because back in book 6 (citing the moment that broke me Yet Again, lmao) Leona implied that while he has hope in others (like Jamil), HE DOESN'T HAVE THE SAME HOPE FOR HIMSELF. But there's literally his whole dorm who trust him to lead them and their futures as professional athletes 😭 Jack who believes Leona is capable of being that shining, ideal senpai he dreamed of... Ruggie who believes Leona can and will change not only his life for the better, but also the lives of marginalized beastmen like hyenas, the younger generation, and heck, why not their whole country too... OTL

THIS IS LITERALLY THE WORST POSSIBLE OUTDCOME FOR ME... . . . . ....... . .. . . . .. . / / / / / . . . .. . .. ... . . . ... . . YOU JAVE JACK'S DREAM SUPPLYING THE RELIABLE BIG BRO/ONII-SAN LEONA... THEN RUGIGE'S DREAM SUPPYL inG THE SMAR TDETERMINED PRINCE LEONA ... AND THEN NEXT UPDAT.E.XBBCXL V.CV . . . . . . . . ...... .. .. . . . . OTL ASCTUAL LEOPJNA DFGFAYVAFIVAVIYAIAGIGEIYGEPEIQAGfhgpaebpyrwqeg,hpgqeugqm[gqepg./l.,pjm9hmh4 gephmhurwhbaudavmudfsgnyofegnyoifui

GOD IF EW SEE THAT BITCH CRYi NG gkj eabihlaegbiaegibyegoqetpr13569 87q3tbkhl3o tyb6fOfonfOTFsugfaiugfanyoigFGION qit' S LEOVER FOR MEAMBFFVHAJVFFVEUGFO EOFAENYFEOFHdhmFSLJGADFsmf aLALLL OF HIS PENT IUP FRUSTRATIONS JUST SPILLING OIUT;V .F,DSBFAHLFLFFNODGOVSMHFAV UEGOFEAHMAEGDGSKPFSHIM THE RAGE AT MALLEUS DFN BAFVKJAFYGLAFGIDGIDGIODGSOIDN FOR FOTRICNG THIS LIE UPON HIMFDS NFASVAEFBLADFIOBY AGIOQEGONYFWmpdphGAMGobf IT'D BE SO SEXSYFDH HOT IF HE KNEW IT WAS A DREAM ALL ALONG PELEEEEEASE 🙏 I'M ONT MY HANDS NAD NDD KNEEESLSD DFS,SFHBAFLHAFDLI EO FQEYG VADGNOVSHUPVPUFFmhagyo 4wpeq/pll.,wjph9q80th9umpdbsaihoadnFSuov fsogyFSGUOFSu SNOGYAVUO FSA

.

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. Ah-HEM!! 😇 Sorry, I don't know what overcame me... I just blacked out and when I came to I don't remember what I was doing or saying for the past several minutes 💖 Now if you'll excuse me, I am filled with an intense desire to enact violence on the nearest lion-shaped object I can get my hands on--

[beembeem]

Halloooo, I'd like a platonic Aizawa x reader where the reader is a student of his and tries to do EVERYTHING to not be in the Limelight bc they hate the attention? Also, they're planning on becoming an underground hero :33 Remember to drink water <33

Thank you for the request! I really had a lot of fun writing this, it was nice to write again after my break!

Stay hydrated, everyone!

You had been on aizawas radar from the first day of school. You never joined any clubs and participated in any school events. He's never seen you openly interact with anyone in your class aside from a quiet "yes" or "no." Although you performed well at the festival, you went home the second you had won your fight. Your lunches were spent in an empty classroom, so you'd avoid the groups of your classmates. He's not even sure anyone knows your name. Public speaking and being social is part of the job so when the first month of school ended and he noticed you still werent participating in any clubs or sports teams he took the opportunity to put you in on the PA with mic.

You'd be let out of class five minutes early to make your way down to the PA room and announce school news and maintenance. "Hey listener! Are you ready to get to work?" The blond yelled, and you nodded."Alright! So here's what you need to read. Don't be shy to add your own funky twist!" He handed you a sheet of paper,"just keep it school appropriate. " he laughed, and you glanced over the paper just the usual. Staircase B is out due to quirk mishaps and a new lunch special "so.. do I just read it?" You asked, staring at the PA system. The thought of the whole school hearing your voice made your stomach turn. "Yep! There's nothing else to it! Here." He stood up from his seat and motioned for you to sit."Are you ready?" He asked "uh-"great! " he didn't give you time to finish he pushed down on a bright red button in front of the microphone before saying his opening phrase "hey hey hey listeners! It's your one and only present mic and" he motioned for you to say your name "y-y/n" You stated, your voice breaking a bit " and we have a few updates to share with you guys! So y/n take it away!" He motioned for you to announce "u-uhm for today's announcement, uhm... s-staircase B is out of order, and uh, because of" you tried to be confident, but the words died on your tongue instead tears welled up in your eyes and present mic put a hand on your head before taking over and finishing the announcements. When the announcements were finished and turned to talk to you but your seat was empty, and the door was ajar.

~~~~~~~~~~

Aizawa stared blankly at you. "You want to be... an underground hero?" He repeated your words, and you nodded. "That's a first for 1a," he chuckled quietly to himself. You stared at the classroom floor and waited for him to speak again. " Why?" He asked before picking up a sheet from an earlier test and marking a few questions "w-well I don't think I handle the public as well as everyone else. You probably heard how I was on the PA system. And with the way my quirk works, I think it'd be better to work underground. Plus, I think it'd be a great opportunity for me to keep my identity a secret. " You rambled a bit anxiously, but your teachers focus still remained on the sheet. "Y/n, I get what you're saying. I really do." He started,"but you need to learn how to socialize if you want to be a hero. " he stated,"b-but!" He raised his hand, cutting you off."No buts. What if you need to control a crowd? Or help a lost child? Even if you become an underground hero that won't change what you need to learn, you frowned a little and sighed before turning back to your desk to get your bag and leave. "But." You turned to face him."If you can learn to effectively socialize and stay on the PA system for the rest of the school year, I'll mark you as an underground hero, " he said then turned his attention right back to the sheet of paper. You smiled and thanked him before leaving the classroom and shutting the door behind you.

[reidmoony-toast]

Angel. pt.2 - sr x reader

Reader was shot and Spencer is there when she wakes up

content: fem reader, angst w comfort/ fluff, established relationship, no use of y/n

cw: canon compliant violence, blood, guns, hospitals, talk of death

wc: 2.6k

an: Part 1 is so much better than this but just pretend this doesn't suck! Anyways ily thanks for reading and all the support for pt 2 <33

Part 1

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“Pacing isn't going to help.” JJ reminded Spencer, as he crossed the waiting room in front of her once again. He halted for a moment, shooting her a dirty look.

She held up her hands in surrender, and he shook his head, continuing his relentless pacing. JJ really wasn't to blame for anything, and he would've felt bad if he had even a single neuron that could think about anything other than her.

The artificial lights glared down at him, and the smell of ammonia radiated from every surface, making him dizzy and giving him a painful headache. He hadn't had one this bad since... Since Maeve had helped him.

Bone-chilling dread washed over him. This couldn't end like Maeve. He refused that repeating narrative. He needed this time to be better, he needed her to be okay. The other option—he couldn't accept it. Not again.

A nurse walked in, and Spencer straightened, while JJ shot from her chair. “Is she okay?” JJ blurted.

Spencer said nothing. He hadn't said a word since he held her hand in the ambulance, whispering the words ‘stay with me’ over and over again. He hadn't spoken again since her hand went limp in his own.

“She's still undergoing surgery, so I can't say for sure, but she's a fighter.” The nurse replied politely. Spencer wondered how many times she's had to say a version of those words today. How many of those others didn't pull through.

“I will make sure to update you when I have more information.” She paused, staring straight at Spencer. “I need some paperwork filled out. Are you the husband?”

“Boyfriend.” His voice cracked as he used it for the first time in two hours. “She's, uh– my girlfriend.”

The nurse nodded in understanding. “I'm guessing you're still the next of kin, so I'll get you to fill out this, if that's okay?” The nurse asked softly, holding out a clipboard and pen.

He wanted to answer with ‘no’. That he didn't want to fill out a stupid form while his girlfriend was dying in the next room, but he nodded anyway, taking the clipboard in his tired grasp.

‘Girlfriend’ was never a strong enough word. She was his life force. His everything. The soul perfectly intertwined with his own. There was no word in the English language that could ever properly describe what she was to him.

The velvet box tucked into the back of his sock drawer would have made her Spencer's fiancé—which was by far a better word—but he supposed it was too late for that. The whole future they had planned for themselves was very likely to not come to fruition.

That thought alone made his heart ache, and his lungs feel like they were on fire—an agony like no other he had ever experienced.

He finally sat down, and began the futile attempt to fill out the pages of forms in front of him. It was almost impossible to focus, and he'd only written her first and last name before he laid the pen down, unable to continue.

Spencer's breath was still uneven and rattly, and his hands started to shake.

The past two and a half gruelling hours had been a tailspin into the depths of hell, and he felt as if he couldn't catch his breath, no matter what he did. He wasn't surprised, though.

He felt the breath from his lungs completely leave him when he saw her, lying in that car park, and it never returned again—as if her not being near sucked all the oxygen from the air around him. He was now living on borrowed air, and that air would run out if he never saw her again.

Spencer swore he could already feel his organs beginning to shut down, decaying from the inside out. Like they knew—they knew he would never survive if she didn't make it.

It just wasn't in his nature to live without her.

Spencer glanced up, and came face to face with his own reflection in the glass windows lining the sterile waiting room. A pale, gaunt face stared out at him, a man he could almost not recognise—if not for the fact it resembled his past self. The one on drugs. The one in prison.

A dried and flakey red substance lightly dotted his lower cheek—a bit of her blood he must have missed when he hastily wiped his face with his jacket sleeve.

Spencer looked down at his hands, properly, and saw that they too, still had blood on them—caked around his knuckles, between his fingers, under his fingernails. Places where JJ's gentle cleaning with a hospital rag had not reached.

It was fitting, really. He had blood on his hands. Literally and figuratively. If they had stayed together instead of splitting up to cover more ground, if he had noticed her absence sooner, if he was the one who went into that carpark, she would still be right here. Happy. Healthy. Breathing.

He knew JJ would scold him, say it wasn't his fault, but the guilt consumed him, washing over him in great waves—but, unlike the tide, the feeling didn't recede. Instead, it grew, like toxic mould on a dingy bathroom wall. Festering and rotten.

He couldn't help but feel that he was partly to blame. Everything he touched usually broke, so this didn't feel like an unrelated incident. It was always his fault.

A hand was placed gently on his shoulder, and he glanced up from where his head was hung to see JJ, sympathetic look on face, twisted with grief of her own.

He didn't reject the comfort, instead he brought his own hand to hers, squeezing it where it rested on his shoulder. He might not have shown it, but he was glad she was here. He probably wouldn't have been able to keep it together this well if he was alone.

Her company brought him a sense of comfort—knowing someone else cared for her, and for him, as well, made it substantially more bearable.

After a millennia, footsteps echoed eerily in the empty hall towards the waiting room, and they both snapped their gazes towards the door. The nurse hurried into the room, and they both sat, with bated breath, for the news that would either heal or break their whole world.

At least, Spencer's whole world. JJ had Will, Henry and Michael, and the rest of the team had their own families. They would be upset, but they would have a shoulder to cry on when they ventured home. He wouldn't. If he lost her, he had nothing left. Nowhere to call home—because she was his only home.

“It was touch-and-go for a while there, but she's out of surgery and in recovery. I can take you to see her, if you would like.” The nurse gave them a warm smile.

Spencer's heart felt like it finally started beating again after three hours, eight minutes and forty one seconds, like he wasn't fully alive in that time when her life was on the line. His entire body warmed, from head to toe, with all-encompassing relief. She was okay. She was alive.

It all felt too good to be true, like his brain was wired to always assume the absolute worst outcome possible. He had been living like she was already dead.

A breath escaped him, but his lungs still couldn't take in air properly. They wouldn't, not until he saw her with his own eyes.

“Yes. Please.” Spencer quickly added on the end, finally remembering the meaning of the word ‘manners’. The nurse nodded, turning on her heel to lead them to her.

“She's stable, but she'll be unconscious for at least a few hours.” She informed, stopping in front of a frosted glass sliding door that led to a private room. To her.

“Thank you.” He said quietly, and the nurse nodded in acknowledgement, setting off down the quiet corridor. Spencer’s heart raced, and he carefully peeled open the door, stepping into the room.

It was small, walls painted white, linoleum floor worn from foot traffic. A continuous beeping sounded around the room from the many machines monitoring the motionless figure laying on the hospital bed, covered by paper-thin sheets.

It was her. She was really here. Really alive.

He fell heavily into the rickety chair beside her bed, gaze not leaving her peaceful face. Even on the brink of death, she was the most gorgeous being he’d ever laid his eyes on.

He sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs completely. They were working fine now, because hers were. He could see the slow rising and falling of her chest, and it brought him the most comfort of anything in the entire world.

Spencer reached up, cradling her hand in his own, brushing his thumb over her cold skin. That made him disproportionately heartbroken—her hands were usually like little hot water bottles, and Spencer often remarked about how inhumanly warm they were. Now, his hands warmed hers instead, and it felt wrong.

“I'm going to go and debrief with the rest of the team.” JJ spoke up from her position near the door. He had almost forgotten about her presence, and he nodded in acknowledgement, thankful for her obvious move to give him some time alone.

“Thanks, JJ.” Spencer said simply. She gave him a small smile, and left quickly. He didn't need to explain himself, because she knew what he meant. Thank you for staying with me, thank you for caring, thank you for giving me space, thank you for everything. She understood it all.

The door slid shut, and his attention was back on her. All that was important. His whole life was lying, unconscious, on the bed in front of him. But she was there, and that was more than he could ever ask for.

He brought her limp hand to his lips, kissing the smooth skin softly, eyes closing, as the first lone tear made a path down his cheek—the first of many. He cried for the first time today, silently, her hand still clutched tightly in his own.

~☆~

The first thing I felt when I faded into consciousness was pain. A deep throbbing sounded from my side, albeit less than my last memory.

The approaching sirens, and disjointed flashes from inside the ambulance. And in all of it, there was Spencer. Every moment I could remember, he was there. Always. Never leaving my side.

I cracked my eyes open, taking in the bare walls and bright lights of the hospital room. My vision swam in and out of focus, eyelids heavy.

I felt a weight on my arm, and looked down to see a mop of brown curls splayed over the scratchy linen sheets, head bowed and my hand clasped in both of his. Spencer was here. By my side. Forever and always.

He was bent over awkwardly in the little plastic chair beside my bed, and I couldn't help but think how uncomfortable he must be.

“Spencer.” I rasped out, limbs too heavy to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, like I so desperately wanted to do.

His head shot up quickly, seemingly not as inert as I thought he was. He squeezed my hand gently, lips lifting in a tiny smile of relief, expression unbelievably soft.

“Angel.” He breathed in awe, like he couldn't quite believe his eyes. “You're awake.”

“Hi.” I whisper, gazes never untangling from the snare they both found themselves trapped in.

“Hi.” Spencer echoed, taking one of his hands from mine to reach up and oh so gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. He moved it to carefully cradle my jaw and cheek, breathing my name like it was divine. I melted into his touch.

“My girl.” He murmured with reverence, studying my face intently, like I was something to be treasured. Like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. I could disagree completely—I almost died, so I was most definitely not looking my best. “How do you feel?”

“Like I just got shot.” I said dryly, voice hoarse. “I must look it, too.”

“You look perfect.”

“Liar.” I rasped, snorting. He narrowed his eyes, like he was about to fight me on the issue, but I interrupted.

“How long was I asleep?” I asked quietly, vocal cords upset from disuse. Or from the blood in my throat. I could still feel myself choking, airways blocked with my own blood.

I remembered the light-headedness from losing too much blood from my body. I remembered the warm blood pooling around me, soaking my clothes. I remembered, as clear as day, what dying felt like.

Spencer’s answer snapped me out of my dark thoughts.

“From when you exited the ambulance, it's been five hours and fifty-four minutes.” He recited immediately. I was impressed, but not surprised. It was Spencer, after all.

I hummed in acknowledgement, before silence fell. Spencer's bottom lip quivered slightly, and I wouldn't have noticed, if not for my constant staring. I frowned deeply, chest tightening. Seeing Spencer upset was incredibly hard.

He was a stoic man, rarely showing his sadness. When he did, it was only in the worst of situations. And now, seeing his palpable misery was beyond heartbreaking.

“I thought I'd lost you.” The almost unintelligible confession sounded after a beat. I wouldn't have heard if I hadn't been anticipating his response.

Spencer ducked his head, avoiding eye contact, and no doubt hiding his emotion. His whole body shuddered when I laid my free hand in his hair, smoothing his curls soothingly.

“Spence, hey.” I tried to coax him into looking back up at me, not wanting him to repress his emotions. I knew why. He was most definitely thinking that he was the one supposed to be comforting me, not the other way around. Which, was completely false.

“I'm here. I'm okay.” I reassured. He finally lifted his head again, and a pang was sent straight to my heart when I saw tears pooling in his eyes.

“You don't have to hide, okay?” I brushed away a tear that broke from his lashes and rolled down his cheek. “It's understandable that you're a mess.” He let out a huff, and I gave him a knowing smile.

“I've been asleep the whole time, and you've been here for five hours and fifty-four minutes.” I repeated back his numbers, and it pulled a tiny smile from his lips.

“Don’t downplay it, you were the one dying.” Spencer scolded, but without any heat.

“I would be a puddle on the floor by now, if it had been you.” Instead of giving him comfort, my words made his face fall again.

He screwed his eyes up, like he was in physical pain, hanging his head once again.

“It should have been me.”

“No.” I answered immediately, tone sharp. I grasp his face in both hands, ignoring the burning in my side. “Don’t say that.”

He didn't reply.

“It was not your fault, you hear me?” I voiced firmly, gaze flicking over his face. “Don’t.” A trembling breath followed.

After a long pause, he finally conceded.

“Okay.” He said shakily, eyes not leaving mine. My stare softened, satisfied with his answer.

“Good.” I pushed back the hair that had flopped into his eyes, moving my hands further into his curls. He sighed at the movement, lids fluttering shut as I dragged my fingers across his scalp. I hummed contentedly.

Bringing his face to mine, I kissed him gingerly. He lifted his hands up to cradle my own cheeks, pulling away only to press his lips to my forehead in a prolonged kiss, seeming to just breathe me in.

“I love you.” I whispered into the air between us.

“I love you too, angel girl.”

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated x

Tags: @reidology13 @reidmania @navs-bhat - comment to be added!

Masterlist ౨ৎ

[lavishlyleo]

Astrology Observations 5

One thing I've noticed with Gemini Moons is that while they do love to talk to people and share their thoughts, if they aren't interested in the conversation's topic or if you stay on one topic for too long, they tend to zone out. If they aren't very invested in the convo at hand it will be VERY noticeable (e.g. blank stares, they suddenly go very quiet, dry repetitive responses, checking their phone frequently).

The same can be said for individuals with a lot of Air in their charts in general, especially Gemini and Libra. It can be hard to keep these individuals attention for prolonged periods of time. They like to cut to the interesting part so keep what you have to say very brief and to the point.

Not something Leo Moons are known for, but that I've noticed is that they can be really good at analyzing peoples behavior. Like, they'll see how someone acts and can make connections to their own behavior to understand some elses emotions and feelings. It's how many Leo Moons relate to people, bonus points if their Moon is in a water house!

In your Natal chart, if your ruling planet 's transit is in opposition or square with your natal ruling planet's sign, it can indicate a period of bad luck and hardship. It may feel like the world is against you at the moment, especially if said aspect is in a less than 5° orb. Not a great transit aspect to have.

For example, My ruling planet is Jupiter (Sag Rising) and it's in Scorpio at 9°. IRONICALLY ENOUGH, in my Solar Return chart for this year, Jupiter is in Taurus at 9°. So I'm expecting a lot to happen this year. Later on this year I'll make an update on this aspect.

If you have Scorpio or Pisces in your SR top 3 this year, don't take this lightly!! Like I said in my last post with manifestations, this will be a year that your manifestation power is at an all time high! You may literally speak things into existence, for better or for worse.

On the topic of Scorpio/Pisces SR top three, my advice for this (and I'm speaking from experience) is try to think about things you want to happen, not things you don't want or like. For example, if you think about how much you don't like a certain person, later on down the line you may find yourself suddenly coming back in contact with that person a lot more, when either you wanted to or not.

People with Cancer personal placements, I'd advise you to frequently check the Moon's transit and positions! Whenever it's the full or new moon, keep tabs on what happens those days and how you feel. Let me know in the comments anything interesting that's happened to yall during those times!

I've said this once and I'll say it again, Scorpio Mars are some of the most PERSISTENT people I've ever seen. When it comes to their desires, NOTHING stands in their way. However this can be detrimental if it's bad habits like drinking, smoking, stealing, ect. One way or another they will get what they want, even if it costs them everything. These people can truly be the victim of their own desires. Honorary mention- Taurus Mars.

Listen, if you ever need someone to promote your music, call an Aquarius Venus/Dominant person. I swear to god these people listen to the most obscure, outta pocket things I've ever heard.

Taurus 6th/5th housers tend to be those people at work that live by the slow and steady motto. They don't like to rush and do a sloppy job on whatever their working on.

On the other hand, Aries 6th/5th housers may be very fast workers, and it usually works well for them, works well under pressure. not the most thorough people but for the most part they get the job done.

People with a lot of Gemini and Leo placements in their chart tend to give off Aries energy.

Capricorn and Scorpio relationships are literally ride or die. I know a couple with many of these placements and they are so possessive of each other. Even after heated arguments and many hardships, they always come back together and work out their issues, it's really sweet!

When in an awkward situation, Libra Risings tend to try and break the tension first. Sometimes they can make the situation more awkward doing this but they're always the ones to bring the vibes back to the way they were, so I appreciate it. Gemini Risings may also do this but can be slightly more unhinged in their methods. I love both regardless for it😭💕.

The reason puberty for all of us hits hard is because it's around this time that Saturn is usually in the sign opposite from our Saturn sign. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it, itcchanges a lot of what we focus on and introduces us to new struggles. Although with Saturn retrograde, the age of which these changes can affect us can range from 13 all the way up to 25. Saturn is trying to toughen us up before we become adults.

What your Rising Sign's season is may be the season/months you prefer. For example, I'm a Sagittarius Rising and I tend to like late fall/early winter.

Your Moon sign can show how you process not just your emotions, but how you handle other peoples emotions, and how you relate to them. For example, a Leo Moon may relate to others by thinking of themselves in someone elses shoes, and how they would handle situations. While a Gemini Moon may relate other peoples emotions with stories from others that they've heard, and use what they've observed from other people to help others.

Venus PC Moon can also show this, I'd look at both sign's relationship to see the full picture of how one truly processes theirs and others emotions.

Moon/Pluto Aspects in someone's chart can show a relationship where however the mother treats the native, is how the native will end up treating her as they get older. For example, if the mother was negligent to the native in their younger years, then as they get older they will have a detached and impersonal attitude towards her. Basically the natives mirror how they were nurtured in youth.

"She say do you love me, I tell her only partly. I only love my bed and my mama I'm sorry." -Drake, a Cancer Moon.

People who say Gemini/Libra placements are indecisive have CLEARLY never met someone with many personal fire placements, especially if it's their top 3. Fire sign energy is naturally high and can be all over the place sometimes, this can include their thoughts and decision making as well, mostly concerning the direction of their passions and work. They may have a million ideas of what they're about to do but have trouble slowing down and planning it all out into managable chunks at a time. Will fight for what they want but may have trouble picking their battles wisely.

[wings-of-ink]

Alright, everyone!

HERE ARE THE ASKS YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR

Below the cut are the asks and my answers/responses. I do apologize for not answering these individually, but some of them contain spoilers for chapter 5 content. Given the developments and reveals of the chapter, I want to let things simmer a bit before I pop off responses like normal.

If my Nonies listed below want to pop back into the ask box and let me know they got their answer, I would appreciate that, but you don't have to either (or if you have an additional question or comment, that's fine too!). I will reblog this a few times to make sure you have a higher chance of spotting it.

I numbered the Asks and put my answers in another color so you can tell things apart a bit easier. This is a trial run on answering these this way. I will also tag things for spoilers. ^_^

Anon:  "There's a she-wolf in the closet" made me laugh so hard I cried sdfjglkjl I was not expecting that out of nowhere 🤣😭  the temptation to name the wolf Shakira...............immense.

I'm so glad you got that reference! My husband and I sing that song to each other with the little "awoos" and all, lol. It was too good to pass up. Fun fact, if you name her Shakira, Oswin has a unique response. 

2. Anon:  Hmmm. "I like the name Aster I'll probably use it again" HMMMMM hMMMMM hmmmMMMM Is this new Aster the ??? RO

Remembered that, did ya 😁 (I was quietly cackling when I wrote that for the old ask). You questioning Aster just makes me want to mess with you Nony, you can't tempt me like this! 

3. Anon:  Aster is so hawt, carressing our cheek w his thumb???? "i wont hurr you" pls let him be an ro bc gah damnnnn

Glad that did it for you, Anon, lol. There will be more of that in store. ^_^

4. Ravioli anon here, hope you remember me LOL I just finished reading the new chapter and I HAD A BLAST The whole gang in here now!!!!!! Aster is no longer question marks!!!! (I will admit when they were introcuded I almost, ALMOST expected their name in game to just be ???)

Hello Ravioli! Still chuckling about that I hope you know. The temptation was unreal to leave ??? in there, lol. At this point, even I know him more by that than his name!

Also to keep up with my perfect choice of names, my she-wolf is now named Der, because together we are Ravi and Der Get it, Ravi 'n Der. Consider this as a way to honor our dear grandma we were named after by our loving dads, you'll never be forgotten, you girlboss of a woman 

OMG, you are killing me over here, lol. This makes me want to code something for that, lol. Just your fathers shaking their heads at your MC while still being kinda amused and weirdly proud. Grandmother Ravinder would glare at you, but smile later.

5. @origamihoshi: Screaming about the necklace Oswin gives MC, my headcanon about MC wearing the snail shell as a necklace can now be canon! and I guess more reasons for my MC to be down bad for Oswin oops. I'm loving the update! I'm so happy to finally meet Rune, I love them so much! I wanna befriend them all. and I feel like there's been a good balance to spend time with all the characters so far and that makes me really happy. 😌Also cuddling with Zahn was so sweet oh my god, I love them so much too! I got so many more questions about MC and the curse, and the mark for that matter, looking forward to when we finally get some answers.

I very, very nearly told you that when you posted your MC, I was so ecstatic. I thought if you while coding that section too. I am so glad you enjoyed the new chapter and new goodies. Lots of fun stuff to come! ^_^

6. @mutsuowo:  HELP I NAMED THE SHE-WOLF ASTER BECAUSE I FIRST CALLED THE MULE YARROW AND NOW I HAVE NOT ONE, NOT TWO BUR THREE ASTER* GOING AROUND (I know one changed to Lakota but the joke that count)

Whoops! Lol Sorry my friend! I don't think any more Asters are hiding about at least. Probably….

7. @mutsuowo: I got spoiled of Aster's name by accident and even then I mistook it for being Lakota, so I thought somehow Lakota had a divorce and took the children to be an option romance with the MC. Cue to me acting like a variety game host and going "We have a cult member, a magician, childhood friends and also a wolf...what about you Aster ? What do you bring to make we choose you ?" The answer was being a DILF

Lol! Oh dear, yeah, bestie has a quarter-life crisis and leaves his wife and 4 kids to live that DILF life. Love it, this is some quality daytime TV stuff. 😆 

8. Anon:  Hello there! I am currently in the middle of the newest chapter, very very good work! Spoiler ahead : So MC is absorbing magic? That might actually help the theory that somehow MC is a god, demi-god, or whatever that is: cursed because they are on this plane and needing magic as a very part of their being? I can't imagine that a god wouldn't be starving for magic if deprived of it. Perhaps in GC it's not magic gods handle, but something similar? The fact that we CHOSE the mark truly makes me think that somehow we were choosing an aspect of ourselves for some reason. Not only something physical either. If not our domain, perhaps a tell of why we were cursed in the first place ? I wonder if, before the Curse manifested, MC would have been flagged as a magic being ? I don't think there was anybody that could have sussed them out back then though ? Rune is amazing, btw, big fan. Can't wait for Purple Lad to accompany us and need a bath as badly as Duri did !

Oooh, are you perhaps my Nony who sent some other theories in about this? Very juicy theory as well. Next chapter you'll learn a bit more about Hayat's curse over the gods and see if it lines up or changes your thoughts more. 😁 I'm glad you like Rune too! They are in for a new experience for sure. Even if they aren't as stuffy as other nobles, they definitely appreciate more refined things. The little town MC grew up in might be a bit of a culture shock. 

9. Anon:  Sooooo... I'm thinking we ARE the mad god ! A reincarnation of it at least ! Thinking about how the cult wanted us dead, I am thinking that as long as MC is alive, they can't have another incarnation of them.   But What exactly was it that drove the god mad ?

Oooh! This one is juicy too! These theories are so tasty! Lots of questions with this one. And like the one above, there may be some info in chapter 6 that may just give more evidence one way or another.

10. Anon:  Me on my first playthrough: oh, Oswin's pretty cute! I think I'll try romancing him first Me when I meet Zahn: oh no you can't just make me choose like that how am I supposed to do this Me when I meet Duri: are you kidding me. Ok screw it I'm romancing Duri Me when I meet Rune: FUCKAIJASJDSAAA Me when I meet ???: No reaction because I'm already combusted. I can't even anymore 

Lol! I am glad and maybe just a tiny bit sorry that you're so torn, my dear. Let's find some glue and get you patched up… ^_^

11. Anon:  HAVE THEORIES! NATHAN IS DURI'S UNCLE, AND ASS-TER -HE DESERVES THAT AFTER THE RING BUSINESS >:( - WAS RAISED BY THOSE ASSHOLES WHO ALMOST KIDNAPPED MC! (I am open to Asster endearing himself later, but I'm mad at him rn, how dare he hurt my already hurt, lovely, MC 😡😡😡) Anyway, your writing is impeccable as always, can't wait to (perhaps) bring Asster to his knees (with love or spite, or maybe both?? He seems like someone easy to love-hate, lol). Tysm, for God Cursed, I love it <333

Yaaass, moar theories! That's a good one too! Nathan having some secrets wouldn't be shocking either. They'd get along too… And it is totally fair for MC to be salty! And ASSter is a perfect nickname, lol. It's also fair that in chapter 6 you'll be able to (try to) get after him about it. :3

12. Anon:  TW SPOILERS ''There is nothing I want more than to hear you…hear you say what you- Nothing more… But for your own sake. Y/N, I'm a monster. I have been a monster. Your heart should be free of thoughts of me until you know what haunts my sleep at night. If you can do that for me and your heart does not change, then I will hear those words and I will spend the rest of my days showing you what you mean to me.'' UUUUHHMMMMM, EXCUSE MEE?????? LIKE THIS IS THE MOST-ROMANTIC-NON-LOVE-CONFESSION I HAVE EVER HEARD??? EVEN THOUGH IT BURNS ME TO NOT KNOW WHAT AFFLICTS OSWIN, AFTER HEARING THAT I'M WILLING TO WAIT FOR HIM.

I love that you love this! I might have cried juuuust a little bit when I wrote that scene, lol (shocking, I know).

13. Anon:  replayed the IF from the start for the update and gosh i felt so bad for our dear MC who has gone through SO much in a (relatively) short amount of time. and the way MC just always thinks about their fathers makes me sobbbbbb. one that always gets me is the scene where MC cried out for their fathers when they were in pain (my heart broke when they said they wanted to be held by their papa). another is in the scene with jasper and co. (‘i learned it from my fathers!’, yesss go MC!!!!). but oh, just imagining the absolute heartbreak the fathers would feel if they knew how MC cried out for them and knew about everything that MC went through, makes me tear up! MC is SO loved by their fathers and MC loves them just as much and i love that. i hope we’ll be able to give da and papa the biggest hugs when we see them again 🥹wonderful update, author! i absolutely adore the world you’ve built and the brilliant characters you’ve created (shout out to one my favs.. our new she-wolf friend <3)

I set out on this IF journey intending to be a bit hard on the MC and I think I succeeded, lol. It might be hard to believe but I really do love the MC as a character too and I feel for them. Hopefully not too hard, but they're on a journey of perseverance so I have faith in them. ^_^ That scene really tore me up too, especially thinking about how hard it would hit the dads to know their beloved kid was calling out to them. 😭 I am so glad you enjoyed the update, my dear, there will be great big dad-hugs in the future, I promise (and more than a few tears). ^_^

14. Anon:  idk if it's choice or route-specific but, zahn was NOT looking good at the end of chapter 5 and i'm worried 😟

Not route-specific (unfortunately???)…they're…going through some things. 😬 (sorry in advance)

15. Anon:  Hi, hi!! Dropping by to blabber about the update after i've finally had time to lose myself in it! (Oh no it got long again.) Okay, so, from the very moment i saw your intro post (over half a year ago, methinks) i decided to go for Rune's route first. I have been very patient, very faithful. And now i can finally say it was so, so worth the wait!!! they have me wrapped all around their beautiful noble finger; they're perfect, they are everything (i mean, how many people can say a literal god shows up for their birthday? yeah, thought so). I know they are no exception either and have their own share of issues, but honestly? that's even better. I wish i was kidding about the amount of times i daydream about them. Look at me now how i'm smiling like a stupid idiot. And the fact that i can make my MC an absolute shy mess around them is just so!! *chef's kiss* 

"Oh no it got long again" is like the tagline for my existence, lol. I am so giddy that you adore Rune! I think they've had less traction since they weren't introduced until now, but I also believe they are just the type of person that is better experienced. I enjoy writing all of the ROs, but Rune is such a presence in my heart and I really hope that comes through.

Also, did Duri seriously rat them out like that? Umm, for science, of what nature, exactly, are the books under Runey's bed?

LOL and I'm so glad you caught that bit about their "hidden literature." Rune LOVES romance novels, including the ridiculous smutty ones even if the plot is kinda bad.

Anyway, moving on, because you fed us so well with the story once again!! Can i just say i love your brain? Can i? Is that weird? Apologies. So!

You can totally say that, lol. I appreciate that you think so, my brain frustrates me sometimes, but I like how smooth it is. Very soft.

We learned so much in this update, and yet our answers are still too far to reach--but that's the whole fun about this! I'm thinking things, i'm suspecting, but i'll hold onto my theories for now… It is indeed very fortunate that each of MC's new friends can seemingly contribute a piece to this vexing puzzle; question is, is the picture only missing the very last piece, or are all four needed for it to be complete? I'm folding my hands and patiently waiting to find out in future updates. 

Oooh, you're speaking my language, Nony. There are some theories up above, maybe those will get your mind spinning too. That's a very good question though too. Eveyone seems to have something that might help MC out…so the question could be, do they go full Power Rangers and combine them to solve this problem or is one strong enough on their own? Hmmmmm? Time will tell.

One thing i will say is, more people may know about MC and their whole deal than Oswin may want to even consider. People with not the best intentions, that is.

I'm sure it's fiiiiiine. Probably just a…crazy…crazy fluke. It's fine. 😀

Speaking of, Oswin is so sweet! He cares so much i think it's rending him apart. Perhaps he should partake of Nathan's pipe every now and then. You know, for recreational purposes. Frankly i admit i don't know how mean you still can be to Oswin because every time there's a choice during his scenes i just tunnel-vision to the friendliest one there. It really makes me feel sorry for him if there are MCs out there who are still bitter about their relationship. As he was opening up about what kinds of actual horrors he witnessed and had to deal with in consequence, it really made me think MC's little group should, as a side-quest, go out and find him a therapist, because this guy *slaps him on the back* can fit so much trauma in him!

That's a good way to describe Oswin. He feels very intensely and those emotions are difficult for him to manage. I try not to be too mean to him, but I do want to try and give a decent variety of responses to the past tension for some MCs. Negativity there isn't a huge focus, so I try not to go too far down the rabbit hole with it at least, lol. A therapist is a great idea for him, for real. You cracked me up with that reference, I imagine Lakota trying to sell him to the MC, lol.

 I see Zahn has entered the trenches(TM). Just after i had them repeatedly stabbed in MC's place. And just after they finally got to cuddle with MC. This is fine. Not gonna lie, for a solid second you had me believe we wouldn't see them come back from that totally not evil or at least highly doubtful church of theirs, and that we'd had to leave without them. Haha, no waay. Lunan wouldn't do that to them, right? Right? Oh thank gods. See? I was right. Anyway, it seems like their character development arc is coming up soon, so i'm keeping calm and not cracking my knuckles, not at all.

Oh yes, there will be some development soon here. Tee hee?

Duri is so fun. Their playfulness is so endearing, so much so that i find myself repeatedly swayed in my decision to have them in a (now mostly) platonic relationship with MC. Simmer down, you'll have your turn. It had me rolling how they snapped once the bandits insulted their feet lmao! Also, also, their dynamic with Rune? Mmm, so good. I love the kind of friendship that's like "yeah i picked up this weird wet dog one day and now it won't leave me be and it's annoying, but only i'm allowed to say that. here, have a treat."

I love that you love that. Writing Duri is fun and I get to break some social norms with them so it's a win-win for us all. The relation to Rune is a blast.

Moving on, Duri sniffing MC after they talked with someone they didn't know; Duri immediately leaping at the opportunity to tease a jealous MC; Duri coming to MC's rescue to put a harasser in their place--they can't keep getting away with being so charming! Oh wait, they can. Human laws don't apply to them, after all.

Duri is already so loyal. Like a pup you picked up at the shelter, the connection is pretty quick for them. Also, if you didn't know, you can also get Rune to get defensive of MC being harassed in the tavern. Currently thinking of changing the code of that, but if you choose to stay neutral or a bit distrustful of Duri, Rune will get involved instead. Both have the confidence and the power to back it up though, can't go wrong.

And Aster? Something is up with him. Big time. Bost obviously, his name. I don't know, i don't know, i'm not convinced it's a coincidence or merely "fate." I'm watching you, Aster. Okay, and yes, i see why MC might need his help, but he never once elaborated on that part where he said he needs MC for power. Sooo, naah, i'm not putting my egg in your basket, not yet. Especially!! After he so brutally demonstrated just how much of a bigger hand he has over MC. That was evil. (In a good way.) He's unhinged, and i love that in a character. I would not trust him even with a cheese grater.

That may be wisdom here for sure, lol. Aster is quite the character, as are all of them I suppose. All have secrets he especially has some serious growing to do. He'll be an interesting addition - and a very smug one at that. Maybe juuuust maybe MC can get him to feel a little remorse for being an ASSter, to quote a previous ask, lol.

I almost thought MC's group of friends were going to mistake him for the kidnapper and everyone would want to throw hands, or would at least be very leery of him, so seeing how easily he slotted in had me a little surprised (and i think he was a bit surprised himself).

That very nearly happened actually. I cut it because of chapter length, and I'm thinking I want to polish the ending for that anyway. I feel like I was burnt out while writing that and I pushed it too fast. So, we'll see what happens in future….

I really, really liked the option of having MC be scared of him after he put a cork (dart) in Jasper's mouth (throat). The head tilt afterwards? Wiping away a stray tear? "Now come sit with me on my picnic blanket designer cloak to talk about how everything is drawn to you, including me?" "I'll need to study you?" Yes, i'll take your entire stock.

I'm glad you enjoyed your dessert, Nony. ;) There will be some serious studying in the next chapter.

Oswin being extremely quiet while MC was recounting their failed abduction because he was still recovering from those 6 panic attacks he had since finding MC's room empty and with signs of struggle.

THIS absolutely. MC may get an account of the experience later.

 i can't wait to see what the dads are going to say about each of MC's new friends! I can already imagine who might not entirely vibe with whom, especially if papa and da are going to be in a sour mood after they see my (feral despite being the healer of the party) MC scarred and sore despite their letters containing nothing but rainbows and sunshine (oops). MC's right, though, how are they going to house so many people lol.

This will be so much fun, especially when it comes to sleeping arrangements…A couple ROs will get themselves sorted but there's a couple that we might just get a "one bed" trope with, lol.

And last but not least, MC got the promised puppy!!! (i named her "Ginger" <33) 

Oh that is such a cute name too! She is kinda the color of ginger and she's also very gentle (ginger) AND she can be very spicy if you piss her off. Very gingery.

I have been here before and gushed about your writing on multiple occasions and i don't want to repeat myself over and over, so i'll just reiterate once more that i'm constantly blown away by how real and vivid you make everything feel. You're putting things down and i'm picking them right up, thank you, thank you, yup, i'll have that as well, thank you. You're painting pictures inside my head, and they're gorgeous and vibrant and moving now--hey, how did you even get in here? I'm convinced you're a mage. MC is not the mage here (yet?), but you sure are!! It's okay, you may fess up now. As always, thank you so much for all your hard work! May your holidays be full of joy and rest! Take care <333

I am so thankful that you resonate so much with my writing, my friend. That really truly makes my heart so glad and encourages me to keep at it. I hope each chapter brings you more and more enjoyment and adventure. ^_^

16. @rhiannon02:  IM SCREAMING OVER CH 5 LITERALLY SCREAMING ASTER ??? IM IM LOSING IT

Well, hang on dear, maybe I can help you find it, lol. (I heard that one in my soul) ^_^

That's all for now! ^_^

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

BIG OL HECKIN EDIT:

I am a dum dum who forgot how to spell @sassenach-on-the-rocks amid my existential terror and dread of the deleted-draft incident mentioned below, and then did a Dum Dum no Double-Down by forgetting to update until now. This headcanon is their brainchild and they deserve all the credit for it.

You may now continue with your previously intended brainrot viewing.

I'm VERY INCREDIBLY MIFFED, MY GUYS.

I had this entire post finished and almost completely formatted and saved it as a draft to finish formatting it on my computer

And it DIDN'T SAVE. And I nearly SCREEEEEMED.

It was for an ask request and I also can't seem to tag the person that sent the ask.

I am A N G E R Y

But after several deep breaths and reminding myself that violence is not the answer, here we are.

At any rate. The ask request was for headcanons involving One Piece boyos taking reader to a Masquerade ball.

To the asker, should you still be around to see it, I really really loved this and thank you so, so much for it ❤️❤️ I really enjoyed finding masks to match their aesthetics.

Only deviation I made was Zoro; you meet him there rather than going with him. It just felt right that way for some reason.

And awaaaaaaaay we go~

The Masquerade

Sanji, Zoro, Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy x Reader

SFW Headcanons

This was really so fun and cute and I thank Asker so so much for this.

♫♬Little By Little — The Fratellis♬♫

You wear your mask, I'll wear mine, they don't come cheap but they fit just fine

You can be her and I can be him, and we can both sink while the rest all swim

Sanji

He heard about it when you made port, and there's no way he's not taking you.

He's been looking for an opportunity to take you on the perfect first date, and this is it.

Perfect opportunity for the two of you to get away from the crew for and have a little alone time.

A little dancing, a little wine, a little champagne—it's perfect.

Makes sure not to tell anyone else, if Luffy hears there's free food he'll insist on going and the whole thing will no doubt end in chaos.

He doesn't even tell you—all he tells you, after presenting you with a brand new dress and jewelry (which most likely cost him every last berry in his wallet), is that he would like to take you out for the evening.

And how could you turn him down?

"Come on, love. I promise it will be the best evening you've ever had."

The effort he's already put in, those puppy-dog eyes....

You spend the evening dancing, talking, enjoying the free food, every ounce of his attention on you the entire time as he ensures that you feel like a princess.

Making sure that everyone has their eyes on the pair of you on the dance floor, that they know you're there with him.

Somehow ending up chit-chatting with the catering staff toward the end of the night and being invited to their far less formal after-party.

Stumbling back to the Merry hours later together, half-drunk and giggling and positive that it's the best night you've ever had.

Zoro

"What the hell...?"

He got lost and wandered in.

No idea what's going on, why are all these people wearing masks and dancing?? What exactly is going on this is weird as—

Oh hey there's an open bar, cool.

You recognize him from his bounty poster fairly quickly. There are a lot of marines here, and he really isn’t causing any problems, but he's getting a lot of strange looks...so you decide to do the guy a favor and shove a mask in his hands.

He looks at you like you're speaking another language as you explain where he is and convince him to just put on the damned mask already.

"A ball? I thought this was some kind of weird cult or something."

You just stare at him in disbelief—he thought it was a cult and he's just standing around enjoying the free drinks. 

What.

You brush it off and tell him if he wants to fit in, then dancing is probably a good idea.

He's frowning at you again.

"Yeah, I don't really...do that."

You roll your eyes—there are still people eyeing him suspiciously, you have to do something, so when he finishes his next drink you just grab him by the wrist and drag him out to the dance floor.

Cue impromptu ballroom dancing lessons. He keeps stepping on your feet and mumbling apologies, but it's kind of cute how hard he's trying.

You really can't help but giggle at his explanation that he just got lost and wandered in here.

But you're glad he did—you doubt you would have had nearly as much fun otherwise.

Shanks

Heard about the whole shin-dig while in port.

"Hey that sounds like fun, we should crash it."

You try to be stern, but he pulls out the puppy dog eyes.

"Oh come on please?"

God dammit....

And maybe an hour later you're both making masks.

There's glitter and glue and feathers all over the captain's cabin and you're already dreading cleaning it up.

His has a giant gaudy pirate hat. Because of course it has a giant gaudy pirate hat. He's so proud of it, grinning like a little kid in an arts and crafts class when he holds it up to show you, that you can't even bring yourself to admonish him for it.

And of course the whole thing is invitation-only, and of course he manages to sweet-talk his way in anyway.

Just having such a good time, really doesn't care if anyone recognizes him.

Really doesn't care, just drinking and making small talk and joking with several lower-ranking Marines in attendance who are clearly very nervous.

Within an hour, while you're in the middle of dancing and deciding that maybe this wasn't *such* a bad idea, an announcement is made for everyone to leave immediately.

Judging by the sheer number of Marines outside there's no doubt as to why.

He just gives you a guilty grin before picking you up over his shoulder and bolting back to the ship.

Mihawk

Actually received an invitation, just rolled his eyes and tossed it in the trash.

You dig it out and pout about it until he rolls his eyes and gives in.

"Fine. No more than an hour."

At lease there will be free wine.

Unsurprisingly spends a great deal of time standing in a corner and sipping said wine while staring around haughtily at the other partygoers.

Would much rather be drinking wine back in his secluded castle and not having to deal with other humans.

Spends the vast majority of the evening standing in a corner and nursing a glass of wine while glaring around haughtily at the other guests, daring them to even think of attempting to make small-talk with him.

Doesn't move from his designated corner until he sees other guests daring to flirt with you, at which point he promptly saunters over to pull you to the dance floor and ensure everyone is well aware that you're there with him.

Lightens up a little after that (which may or may not have something to do with the several glasses of wine he's already consumed), but absolutely will not admit that it actually turned out to be a rather nice evening.

He will, however, hold this over your head and remind you that you owe him.

But you know the truth, considering he's a little more willing to attend such events with you after this.

Buggy

Oh what now? An excuse to be absolutely flamboyant and unhinged in public?

You're going. Period. There will no arguments.

He's already got a collection of masks and costumes anyway, this is going to be a blast.

You lose track of him shortly after you get there. You're pretty sure that the explosion that went off toward the back corner of the dance floor had something to do with him.

He finds you while you're sipping a glass of champagne in downright annoyance and proudly informs you that he's made bank going through pockets at the coat check while everyone was distracted by his little diversion.

"Ah, don't worry, babe, they won't notice. They're too busy schmoozing and kissing ass."

Standing around making small-talk with other guests in the most ridiculous put-on aristocratic accent he can possibly muster, introducing you variably as some foreign dignitary or princess from a far off land.

Literally can't take this idiot anywhere.

[exilethegame]

Hihi! This has been one of the BEST ifs I've ever read!!! Although i do have a question can we expect any updates soon? I'm totally fine with waiting this is just one of my absolute favorites! The writing, the RO's the characters everything😭

Hello! Thank you for the kind words :)

As for an update, all I'll say is-- I'm working on it! Re. the rewrite Chapters 1 + 2 are finished and 3 is about halfway done. I don't want to announce an actual "release date" because I haven't been able to work on things consistently w/ school. However, my thoughts are to just release Chapters 1-3 when they're done on the Twine demo for public release, and then update it again when Chapters 4 + 5 are done.

For a little peek of how things have changed, there's the mythosi sub-variants being added for MC, and then some scenes have completely different branches than before. For example, Jaime's encounter in Chapter 1 has 3-4 completely different endings now, which I think is pretty fun! And the Jost/Nikke battle has been completely overhauled to be a lot more dynamic/convoluted... (and of course there are now some Jost flirt options <3)

But I'm glad you enjoy the game so much! I can't overstate how thankful I am for those of you who have been willing to wait for so long. I know things are slow moving but we'll get there! Eventually!

[mim16s]

Survival in game

Hello everyone, sorry for taking so many days to post an update. I was sick and couldn’t write, but I’ll try to be more active from now on. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

A part of this chapter may be a trigger for some people , for there is heavy violence against the reader and bad memories that will be explained in an upcoming chapter.

Materialist

Part 3

The atmosphere still carried a heavy tension, even after the game had ended. The imminent threat of death had lessened, but the feeling of unease lingered. You looked at Hyun-ju, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. Words seemed insufficient to express the gratitude for both of you being alive.

— What are you thinking? — Hyun-ju asked, curious. — You've been looking at me for a while... Something on your mind?

You looked away, trying to organize the whirlwind of thoughts, especially during tense situations.

— I'm just happy you're alive. — Your voice came out calm but carried a sincerity that made Hyun-ju smile. You couldn't help but smile back, an almost automatic reaction. — I can't wait to get out of here. Do you think we'll have enough votes to end it for now? — you asked, and she seemed anxious, remaining silent for a moment.

— Maybe we'll leave today — she said softly.

— When we get out, I want you to meet my mom she will love you. I'll cook something nice for us — your voice was enthusiastic, momentarily forgetting the situation and thinking about meeting Hyun-ju in a different place.

— I'd like that — she smiled. — I didn't know you cooked.

— Well, I'm not a chef or anything, but I can make some tasty food.

— It's a deal, then — Hyun-ju said.The conversation was interrupted by a voice from another bed in the dormitory.

— Can I ask you something? — The older woman, with her son beside her, got your attention.

— Sure. — Hyun-ju responded politely, though you noticed a tension in her posture.— When you were playing jegi, why did you ask us not to look?Hyun-ju looked away, staring at the floor for a few seconds. The discomfort was palpable, and you wanted to offer support but didn't know how. Your mind raced, trying to find the right way to encourage her, but the words seemed stuck as usual.

— It's because I... — Hyun-ju began, but the woman interrupted.

— Shy? — the woman asked innocently. — Is that why?

— No, I'm not shy. It's just... I'm not finished...

— Finished what? — The woman's curiosity seemed insatiable.

— Mom, stop. — Yong-sik intervened, holding his mother's arm with evident desperation. — Stop asking so many questions.

— It's okay. — Hyun-ju tried to calm the situation. — It's just... I have more surgeries to go, and when people stare at me, I...You saw Hyun-ju's insecurity. Slowly, almost hesitantly, you slid your hand near hers, trying to convey comfort. Hyun-ju looked at you, and the small connection seemed to give her a bit more strength.

— Surgeries? Oh, so that's an implant, right? — The older woman said, realizing something but still not noticing Hyun-ju's discomfort. — I thought they were big...

She raised her hands as if to touch Hyun-ju's chest, but before she could continue, Yong-sik interrupted again, visibly embarrassed.

— Stop, mom! Don't touch her!

Relief came as more people entered, interrupting the conversation. You felt a little lighter seeing more people had survived, but not everyone felt the same, as you noticed the purple-haired man's group upset that more people had made it.

The masked soldiers entered. The tension returned as they began announcing the game results. Voices of indignation rose as people demanded a recount of the prize. But for you, the money no longer mattered. All you wanted was to leave that place and return to your mom. You looked at Hyun-ju, wishing to see her far from this hell.

As the voting started, your heart raced. Each vote was a stab of anxiety. You watched Yong-sik switch sides, pressing the "O" to continue. His mother's look of disappointment was hard to ignore. Your eyes met Hyun-ju's. Would she vote to continue too? She voted "O" before... No, she promised this would be the last time.

Your turn came. You walked to the panel, each step felt heavier. Without hesitation, you pressed the red "X," determined not to continue. You returned to the "X" side, your eyes fixed on Hyun-ju, waiting for her decision with your heart in your throat.

When her turn came, Hyun-ju walked to the panel. You watched, your body tense, your mind racing. Doubt was written on her face, but then, she pressed "O." The sound of the button being pressed seemed to echo in your head, drowning out every other noise around you. Your breath caught in your throat, and a wave of betrayal washed over you. You had agreed this would be the last game. Why would she lie? Your eyes filled with tears, the pain becoming almost unbearable.

She turned, and your eyes met. When Hyun-ju saw the pain and betrayal in your gaze, the realization of what she'd done hit her hard. She understood that her decision, based on her own needs and struggles, hadn't considered how deeply it would affect you. She had only thought of her debts, her unfinished transition, but now, seeing the pain in your eyes, the weight of her choice seemed unbearable.The voting continued, but everything around you became a blur. The voices of people debating whether to continue the game or not felt distant, almost unreal. The final result appeared: 23 votes difference. The games would continue. You stood up, walking slowly back to your bed. Each step felt drained of energy, each movement a struggle. You felt the eyes on you but had no strength to lift your head. You knew Hyun-ju was watching you, but the weight of disappointment was too heavy to face.

As meals were distributed, you remained still. The hunger had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming emptiness. Then, a pair of hands appeared before you, one holding a piece of bread, the other a liter of milk. You looked up slowly. It was Hyun-ju. She avoided your eyes, her expression filled with sadness.

— I noticed you didn't get any, so... I brought this for you. — Her voice was low, almost a whisper, filled with hesitation. You remained still, unwilling to take the food. — Please, eat something. You need to keep your strength up for tomorrow.

— I don't want to eat. — You murmured, your voice barely audible, reflecting your inner struggle.Hyun-ju placed the food beside you, letting out a heavy sigh.

— I'll leave it here... in case you change your mind. — She hesitated, her voice trembling with emotion. — I'm sorry for lying to you. I...

Before she could continue, Yong-sik and Geum-ja approached, breaking the tense moment.

— But I wasn't the only one who voted to continue. Look! Someone else voted for the circle, see? Look there — Yong-sik pointed at Hyun-ju as he spoke.

— Why did you do it? — Geum-ja asked, her voice filled with disappointment. — After promising we would eat together, why did you change your mind?—She said, mentioning a conversation you had before, where she had invited you to visit her house.—Is it because of your surgeries? Are they that expensive?

Hyun-ju remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor. The words seemed trapped, but finally, she spoke, her voice breaking under the weight of her memories.

— Everything was... fine until I revealed who I really am. People thought I was strange, but that wasn't a problem. — Her voice trembled, each word a painful effort. — But after I said I wanted to be a woman and went through my transition... everything fell apart. My mom cried, my dad rejected me. I got fired and lost my friends. I need the surgeries, but I have no job, no money. I felt free, but... my life became unbearably hard.

You lifted your face, the initial anger starting to dissipate in light of her raw words. The weight of what she was carrying became clear. Despite the pain you felt, you began to understand. Hyun-ju wasn't just fighting for money, but for her own survival and dignity.

— Oh my... and what did you do for work? — Geum-ja asked, now with a softness in her voice.

— I was a soldier. — Hyun-ju replied, the weight of the revelation making Yong-sik's mouth fall open in surprise. You were a bit surprised, seeing the sweet woman Hyun-ju is, that job hadn't crossed your mind, but remembering how she acted in the game and how she handled the game's environment kind of made sense.

— And what will you do when you get out of here? — Geum-ja asked curiously.

— I'm going to Thailand. — The determination in her voice was clear, conveying hope. — I'll play one more game, have the surgeries there, buy a house... and start a new life.

Your heart ached. Thailand? She would go so far away? Maybe you'd never see her again.

— I've been to Thailand. — Yong-sik said, trying to lighten the mood. — There are many people like Hyun-ju there, you know? Seriously, and many are much slimmer and prettier than a lot of women I've seen. It's amazing.

— They say people there are much prettier. — Hyun-ju said.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to speak. Your voice came out trembling but full of sincerity.

— You're beautiful. It was the first thing I thought when I saw you.

Hyun-ju lifted her gaze, happy that you spoke to her and by your words, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Your words hit her with a force she didn't expect. After everything she'd been through, hearing that from you was like a balm to her soul. She held back her tears, feeling the warmth of your words filling the emptiness in her heart. For the first time in a long time, she felt seen, not as a freak, but as who she truly was.

___

The time for lights out was approaching, and a growing discomfort took hold of you. You felt a penetrating gaze that made your skin prickle, as if something invisible was pressing down on you. Your eyes scanned the room until they found the man with purple hair. He was staring at you with an almost suffocating intensity, his eyes fixed on you in a way that seemed to strip you bare, layer by layer. It was as if he were piercing through all your barriers with a single look.

Your heart raced, and the air seemed heavier. You tried to look away, thinking that maybe if you did, he would stop staring at you that way.

— Can we talk? — Hyun-ju's voice sounded beside you, pulling you back to reality. You turned to her, now alone as the woman and her son had left. You still felt the weight of that gaze on your back. The hairs on your arms stood on end, as if sensing something bad.

— Yes, of course. — Your voice came out more tense than you intended. You tried to focus on Hyun-ju, but the discomfort persisted, like a constant shadow.Hyun-ju took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the floor.

— I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made promises I couldn't keep. I was wrong, and I'm sorry.

You observed her posture, visibly dejected.

— Hyun-ju, I understand that you're seeking your happiness. But I won't lie, your actions hurt me. I don't want to continue in this game, but I also can't force you to leave. I can't completely judge you because I don't face the same challenges you do. But I understand the pain of people distancing themselves.You paused, searching for the right words. — I've never had many friends. In school, the few I managed to make distanced themselves, afraid of also becoming targets of bullying, like I was. I know what it's like to feel empty.Hyun-ju raised her eyes, slightly widened, speechless.

— I voted to stay, but I will protect you. I made a promise to myself and I won't break it. As long as I breathe, I'll be by your side. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you and I promise this will be the last time I vote to continue..

You nodded, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders.

— Alright. Just... please, don't lie again. I don't like lies.

O silêncio que se seguiu foi pesado, mas trouxe uma estranha sensação de alívio, como se ambos estivessem começando a se entender, apesar de tudo. Você examinou a sala com os olhos até encontrar o homem de cabelo roxo. Ele estava observando você com uma intensidade quase esmagadora, perfurando cada camada do seu ser, ele mencionou um homem parado ao lado dele, que olhou para você e então riu junto com ele.

As luzes finalmente se apagaram, e você se virou na cama, tentando em vão encontrar o sono. A escuridão deveria ter trazido alívio, mas o pensamento do jogo mortal esperando por você na manhã seguinte não o deixaria em paz. A ansiedade apertou sua garganta, tornando cada respiração mais difícil. E agora, a pressão em sua bexiga começou a atormentá-lo. Você não conseguiria esperar até o amanhecer. Então, silenciosamente, você se levantou, tentando não acordar ninguém, mas quando estava prestes a sair, sua mão foi agarrada.

— Where are you going? — Hyun-ju asked, still sleepy, blinking slowly. She woke up as soon as your feet hit the floor, as if she were connected to you. She almost laughed, but the weight of the night didn’t allow it.

— I need to go to the bathroom — you whispered, trying not to disturb anyone else.

— I’ll go with you. It could be dangerous — Hyun-ju replied, getting up, but you interrupted her.

— It’s okay, go back to sleep. Nothing will happen. I’ll just go to the bathroom and come back quickly — you tried to reassure her. She hesitated at first but eventually nodded, still reluctant.

Hyun-ju saw you walking toward the bathroom door. She noticed the brief exchange with the guard before you entered, and then, a few minutes later, She saw two more people getting up to go to the bathroom. A bad feeling settled in her stomach, but she tried to ignore it. Maybe it was just her mind exaggerating, she thought.

Inside the bathroom, time seemed to crawl. The sound of water running was a constant in your mind. Then, you felt, cold and relentless, the presence of someone behind you. Your hairs stood up instantly.

— I’ve waited so long to find you alone, but that friend of yours never leaves your side. It was irritating — the man’s voice sounded low and threatening. You turned and saw him, the man who had been watching you earlier. Panic spread quickly through your body, but you tried to remain calm. Something was wrong, and this shouldn’t be happening.

— This is the women’s bathroom. You shouldn’t be here — you said, stepping as far away from him as possible. But he didn’t seem to care.

— Meu amigo e eu queremos mais votos para continuar jogando, então esse "x" ali precisa sair — disse Namgyu, que surgiu por trás do homem de cabelos roxos pressionando o dedo contra o tecido, a força causando uma leve ardência na pele.

— I just want to leave. Accept that — you replied, your tone firm but tense, trying to assert your opinion.— Oh, look at that, seems like we've got a brave one here — Thanos mocked, laughing.

— Do we need to teach this bitch a lesson so she learns some manners, man? — Namgyu asked, and Thanos grinned, stepping closer. His imposing figure became even more intimidating as he shoved you hard. You stumbled, nearly falling, fear growing in your eyes.

— Please, stop this. Just let me go — you pleaded, your voice trembling.

— Are you going to vote to keep playing the next game? — he asked, getting no response. He chuckled, raising his hand and delivering a hard slap. You fell to the ground, your face burning with a red mark as tears streamed down.

— I bet after this lesson, you'll change your mind — Namgyu said, kicking your stomach. The pain made you double over, powerless against their violence. Tears rolled down as you tried to defend yourself, but it was futile. The pain and humiliation brought back memories of your teenage years, of bullying, of cruel laughter.Suddenly, the kicking stopped. When you opened your eyes, you saw Hyun-ju, delivering precise blows. Namgyu and Thanos tried to fight back, but it was useless. She was relentless, only stopping when they were beaten and scared enough not to try anything else. They fled, leaving the bathroom in a panic

Your body was shaking, your head was spinning, and you just wanted to disappear. The sensation was unbearable. The memories of bullying from years ago flooded back, the recollection of being cornered behind the school while your classmates beat you. What Namgyu and Thanos did was the breaking point. You felt utterly out of control.

You hit your head against the wall, trying to turn the psychological pain into physical pain, something more bearable. But soon, you felt something different. A gentle hand held your head, but you still couldn’t stop. Your movements seemed frantic, and she held you with a little more force, interrupting the frantic rhythm of your head against the wall and your hand. When you looked, you saw Hyun-ju in front of you, her eyes worried, but her voice still seemed distant, muffled by the pain.

— It’s okay, not here anymore, it’s me. It’s over, it’s okay — Hyun-ju said, trying to calm you down. Her voice still seemed distant, but her presence was everything you needed at that moment.

She hugged you, holding you tightly, whispering words of comfort as her tears soaked your shoulder. But there was no peace. The weight of it all was still on you, and the feeling of helplessness continued to consume you. Your mind was in a dark place, and every word from Hyun-ju seemed to echo as if it were another reality, one you couldn’t reach. You tried to calm down, but you couldn’t. Your breathing was fast, your mind racing, your body paralyzed by anxiety.You felt your body slowly relaxing, but the feeling of helplessness didn’t go away. Your voice was weak when you spoke.

— I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want to go home... — Your voice came out dragged, weak, as if each word was a monumental effort.Hyun-ju hugged you tighter, as if she could protect you from all of that, from everything that had happened and was still happening. But the pain, the guilt, she couldn’t dissipate the regret stamped on her face.

—I know... I'm sorry...— she said, the weight of guilt heavy in her words. Thoughts swirled in her mind—if only she hadn’t voted in that circle, none of this would have happened. If only she had insisted on going with you to the bathroom, Thanos and Namgyu would never have had the chance to approach you. She blamed herself, but you could no longer think about what could have been; it all felt irrelevant. It didn’t matter what might have been, what could have changed. The pain was here now, and nothing else made sense. You gave in to the pain, crying against her as she wrapped you in her jacket, trying to warm you, shield you, protect you, even if she didn’t know if it was possible.

Hyun-ju tried to stop you from hurting yourself, holding your hands that were scratching, trying to substitute the head hits, but it was as if you were trapped in an endless cycle. She held you tighter, her hands now trying to hold you with all the energy she had, as if she could stop the pain from continuing. Her words of comfort came in a constant flow, but you could hardly hear them. All you could feel was the agony inside you.

— I don’t know what else to do... — Hyun-ju murmured to herself, her voice cracking with frustration, with the despair of not being able to help you.

She felt her own impotence, felt like she was failing you in every possible way. Her face was pale, silent tears falling down her face as well. She didn’t know what else to do, but she kept trying, insisting on holding you as if it were possible to bring you back to your body, she didn’t know what else to do, but she wouldn’t leave you alone. She didn’t want you to go through this without someone by your side. Time seemed to stretch, as if the crisis would never end, and she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to bear seeing you like this.She whispered, repeatedly, almost pleading.

— I’m here... Please, listen to me... You’re not alone... I’m here... I won’t leave you...