#i'm gonna go try not to have a panic attack about posting this

[elsa-fogen]

tumblr reacts to huntix break up on stage

thanks to @caramelmiacchiato for this idea, i love fictional social media stuff

sorry for any mistakes pretend that they were intentional

maybe i'll make something like this about final concert, if i mind the mood

also i have some posts like this for winx club, just in case

0 notes

☕huntrixforever Follow

Our universe may have just cracked in half

[Video description: Unofficial recording from Idol awards, really close to the stage, second half of Huntrix' performance. Stage lit with red light, Huntrix start performing a new song, after suddenly cutting Golden. After few lines first Zoey, then Mira start pushing Rumi around, keep singing, while Rumi is trying to keep on with the dance. But ater another push they stop even trying to perform, Mira and Zoey just straight up attacking Rumi with lyrics, then taking off her jacket. They crowding her. Mira: "We know who you are" Zoey: "A demon", then they step back, Mira and Zoey: "A mistake. You have been. Since the day you were born". They step back enough and disappear from the screen. Rumi breaths heavily, clearly having a panic attack, she screams and all the lights go off, the spotlight sparkles, then she runs away from the stage. End of the description]

(sorry for the lousy video description, i'm rewatching the video while writing and feel all sorts of things that i cannot express. writing the ending literally BROKE MY HEART. i just still have a feeling that i accidentally wandered into some broken timeline and now can't escape it)

#idol awards #huntrix #k-pop #there's NO way this happened for real

1 785 738 notes

🏴iminyourwalls2000 Follow

i'm feeling so hollow right now. I don't even know WHAT to feel

#huntrix #at first i was like #holy shit new song? #SO HYPE LET'S GO #SLAY QUEENS #but then... i- what? what are you doing?? WAIT WHAT IS HAPPE #NING STOP IT STOP STOP #TF YOU MEAN "A MISTAKE SINCE YOU WERE BORN" #THERE ARE NO WORDS STRONG ENOUGH SO I'LL JUST SCREAM AAAAAAAAA

65 notes

🥞live-laugh-ahhh Follow

Holy fuck. I went to sleep for an hour, and coming back and it's like i missed the end of the fucking world. THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN HUNTRIX BROKE UP??????

ON STAGE?????

#huntrix #k-pop #idol awards #this is what sleeping during the day does to a man

197 notes

🍣rujinubeliever Follow

LOOK AT POOR RUMI, MY GIRL IS SO CONFUSED AND SCARED!!! WHATEVER HAPPENED BETWEEN THEM, SHE DIDN'T DESERVE THIS!!! 😭😭😭

#i know it's not the right moment... #but the little shipper in me imagines #rumi running straight to jinu for comfort #LET ME COPE OKAY??? THIS IS THE ONLY THING LEFT FOR ME

2 035 notes

🎪come-at-me Follow

I'm gonna cry, RUMI, IF YOU'RE READING THIS, I'M SENDING YOU MILLION HUGS, JUST KNOW, WE ARE WITH YOU!!!

🥓cheese-n00b Follow

ME TOO!!!

#support rumi #hugs for rumi #huntrix no more #k-pop #didn't know mira and zoey were such assholes???? #don't let me at them or you'll have to deal with some murder #if any of them would show up in front of me #i'd beat the shit out of them for this #if you think that they did the right thing unfollow me right fucking now #<- prev tags #agreed #can i join pls #i'm so angry i'm about to bite walls #reblog #huntrix

838 notes

🍜dressed-and-stressed Follow

Welp, there goes my reason to live, bye guys

#k-pop #tw suicide joke #huntrix

15 notes

🚅jinus-underwear Follow

I must consume every frame of this. I have to find more recordings. I have to know WHY!!! I'm gonna study every fucking pixel of the screen under a microscope untill i find the truth. I just need to buy a microscope.

#too bad i'm too poor #huntrix #idol awards

5 notes

💠huntrix-love Follow

i hate to say this, but the new song was a banger tho😭

🏴iminyourwalls2000 Follow

tryue

#why they had to make it such a bop #i want to listen at it on repeat #but the moment i hear it #i start thinking about the bloody video #and poor Rumi #and i'm in tears again #reblog #hugs for rumi

65 973 notes

🥖liveforhuntrix Follow

This is important

Okay, it's all really sad and stuff, but we HAVE to talk about this. No smoke without a fire, what we saw is just tip of the iceberg. Yall hating on Mira and Zoey for this, but don't you think that there was a reason behind this? I mean, there's no way that they were like "hmm lets make a diss song about Rumi just for funzies". We don't actually know much about their true relationships. We know only what they let us see. And there's a chance that the friendship we saw was just part of the brand. I'm not saying this for a fact, it's just a theory. A huntrix theory. So, i'd suggest to think before lashing out on Mira and Zoey, and protect Rumi like she's a saint.

Who knows, maybe Rumi was abusing the hell out of them? Hear me out. She pushed the release of Golden, when they were about to take hiatus. Don't know about you, but i'd be pissed if my well deserved rest was cancelled. If i dig into it, i'm sure i'll find more moments like this. So, for us it may look like it came out of nowhere, but there may be deeper reasons for this. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

🍊rumizo-hntrx Follow

"a mistake since the moment you were born" yep, uhuh, cool, totally would say this to someone for just being too much into their work

🥖liveforhuntrix Follow

Well, yeah, maybe lyrics WERE too much, but still. It can't be without a reason. There are no saints in our world, and if someone appears to be one, it means that you simply don't know them enough

🎪come-at-me Follow

🤡🤡🤡

💠huntrix-love Follow

Booo, booo on this guy, point and boo the hell out of him

🥖liveforhuntrix Follow

I'm the only sane person on this side of tumblr it seems...

#reblog #self reblog #stop mira and zoey hate #mira support #zoey support

100 636 notes

🎨iwanttobelieve Follow

screw this guy @.liveforhuntrix, let's talk about something REALLY IMPORTANT

DID YOU SEE RUMI'S TATTOOS?? DIDN'T KNOW SHE HAD THEM, LOOKS COOL AS FUCK I WANT SOMETHING LIKE THIS NOW

Also were they like GLOWING A LITTLE BIT AT THE END THERE?? I'm pretty sure it was something to do with ultraviolet, but DAYMN. So otherworld-y looking... And she was hiding it from us THIS WHOLE TIME? CRIME, REAL DAMN CRIME

I have to draw this... not now, the wound is still too fresh... but maybe one day...

#girl is SLAYING #too bad the only time we see em is when she's about to crash out #i fucking can't i wanna hug her so bad #huntrix #huntrix no more #support rumi #hugs for rumi #k-pop

788 notes

🖼rumixjinuforev Follow

Okay but nobody's talking about lights breaking with Rumi's scream!!???? that shit was like straight from some amime!!!!!

Now thinking about it... like... don't get me wrong but... what if it all was planned? For hype? I MEAN!!!!! This still can be coincidence, BUT!!! NUUYEPEGHHDASH???

💠huntrix-love Follow

MY GOD i wish it was staged. I'd be angry of course for playing with my feelings like that, but I'd forgive them.

Also if this is staged, Rumi's got not only majestic voice, but she's also such a great actor, like, that panic attack looked so damn real... I HOPE IT WAS STAGED PLEASE!!!!!!!

#I'm going to sleep but i'd give so much to wake up and see #someone's post with screams of how huntrix dare to play with our feelings like that #i'd forgive them #our queens are allowed to fake some drama for hype #still better than if it was for real-real

10 987 notes

🏐normalzoeyfan Follow

Guys... i don't think... im Zoey fan anymore...

#i refuse to believe that it wasn't her evil twin there untill proven othervise #huntrix #huntrix no more #hugs for rumi

1 009 notes

🎲dnd-and-kpop Follow

I mean we may as well have the end of the world now. Drop the asteroid, this planet is beyond saving

🎩gravity0fallsbill Follow

speak for yourself, world doesn't end on your k-pop idols, i still wanna live

#such statements fucking pissing me off #ik it's nothing and it's not like it gonna come true #just because some angsty teenagers in the internet are being overly dramatic about somthing stupid #but still DAMN #if you wanna die i can't stop you (i mean don't do it) #just don't involve others in it #even as a joke #shitpost

987 notes

🎆blender-explode Follow

Can you imagine that there are people who protecting Mira and Zoey? Like, are you out of you MIND?

🏐normalzoeyfan Follow

with a heavy heart... but they deserve to be cancelled for this shit. With Zoey and Mira lol

#cancel Zoey #cancel Mira #support rumi #hugs for rumi #reblog

1 539 notes

🎭happy-thoughts Follow

someone thinks it was staged. guys i've been there. i don't think it was. like... you can't get it through the video. and i can't express it through words. but something in the air changed, when they cut golden and started this new song. Like, it was hype, but also with this yucky gut feeling of "something wrong. something ugly is about to happen" And when they started pushing, i almost wasn't surprised, like, i felt it coming.

👗rumis-shoe Follow

YEAH, same!!! Like, when they were singing Golden, it was,,, i don't know, i felt such happines that i never felt before, like i was about to start flying!!! And with the start of the new song, it's like i was SMASHED into the ground from the sky, and someone kindly threw a couple of train carts on me. This kind of feeling, yk

#never experienced such polar switch of the mood in my life but here it is #insane feeling #and the fact that it was my first live concert?? #i'm either the luckiest or unluckiest person in the world #i mean how many bands are breaking up on stage #and do it by singing a honestly banger song? #i wish we got this in less dramatic circumstances but oh well #it is what it is #btw i heard saja boys were also fighting that day??

76 893 notes

👛jinus-wife-fr Follow

Still in shock,,, but at least i can form some thoughts now.

Ok, so, Mira had always had the vibe of "that bitch" to me, and i never trusted her. Like, always expected some kind of shit from her. But Zoey? 😭😭 My theory is: Mira forced Zoey to join her against Rumi... idk how and why honestly... LET ME COPE OK???

#cope #huntrix #text post #huntrix no more

10 notes

🚁real-jinus-wife Follow

Okay... but imagine Rumi joins saja boys instead?? Imagine.... just imagine how Jinu and her would sound together....

#i mean they'll have to change the group name #but anyway #copium #coping real hard rn #huntrix #saja boys #if i don't cope i'll just collapse

87 notes

💔poorlittlemeow Follow

Well,,, at least "support Rumi" and "hugs for Rumi" is trending rn... wanted to say "happy to see this" but i can't feel happiness anymore,,, i hope Rumi knows that we still love her,,,,

#support rumi #huntrix no more #hugs for rumi

162 notes

💫abbyxmystery Follow

TF DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO CHOOSE SIDE???

WHAT IF I LOVE THEM ALL????

THIS IS WHAT BEING A DIVORCE CHILD FEELS LIKE???

WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO MEEEEEEE

MIRA, ZOEY, I WISH YOU EXPLAINED YOURSELF, EVERYTHING WAS JUST FINE?????!!! JUST FEW DAYS AGO??????

ALL THE FRIENDSHIP... ALL THEIR PARTNERSHIP... IT CAN'T BE JUST A FRONT, JUST "PART OF THE BRAND", I KNOW THEIR FRIENDSHIP WAS REAL!!!!

#yeah this blog is about saja boys #but i still love huntrix #like they introduced me to k-pop #they will always hold a special place in my heart #without them i wouldn't learn about saja boys #and other cool bands #and seeing them break up LIKE THAT #it's like the end of the era #the world won't be the same anymore #sorry for offtop #i'm having a breakdown #delete later #hugs for rumi

516 notes

😎im-real-jinu Follow

TF MY GIRL RUMI'S FAULT? WHAT DID SHE DO TO YA???

Does it have to do something with that cancelled concert? Like, i heard it was something to do with Rumi... But no details.

BUT WHATEVER THAT WAS IT WASN'T THAT DEEP?? CHILL????

#support rumi #hugs for rumi #my girl didn't deserve diss like that #my poor little mow meow #i wish i could hug her #i bet she needs it rn

938 notes

🌐huntrix-my-life111 Follow

okay, does anyone know a demon to sell a soul to for huntrix being back together? asking for a friend.

#anyone? please #ok google how to summon bill cipher

618 notes

[cq-studios]

Wake up. Missing Link was never cancelled. This last month was all just a bad dream.

It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't-

[theogonize]

so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*

a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!

nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.

nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.

nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.

nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?

nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.

nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (

nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.

choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.

nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?

nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.

nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.

"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."

uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.

"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.

nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.

nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.

nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.

nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.

nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)

nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.

"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."

oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.

you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.

"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.

fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.

he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.

nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)

[verekatt]

Inspired by @greenglowinspooks post

I love the Danny Phantom fandom's medical gore, but why not torture our DC blorbos too?

Lots of fics make Jason an underdeveloped halfa. Lots of fics make Danny basically unkillable because he's a halfa.

I'm going Maximum Angst Route on this one.

The Justice League buys the GIW's rhetoric. They hear about these dangerous energy imprints, these volatile mimicries of life that are hurting people. The GIW claim they've controlled it in the rest of America, but this one small town has a strong one that protects the rest and helps them attack. They ask for help stopping this one, assure them that once Phantom is neutralised, it'll be easy to deal with the rest. The JL agrees. The JL captures Phantom and hands him over to the GIW.

It takes months to capture most of the other ghosts, as they slowly trickle through the portal to find each other. The JL gains an appreciation for the GIW, having previously fought off entities like Skulker and Plasmius without hero help. They trust the GIW, and so when they ask to scan the heroes for any lingering radiation, they agree.

They're alarmed to find many heroes are mildly irradiated. The GIW removes the lingering ectoplasm from most of them, and they're drained afterwards, but they recover. Damian, who had much higher levels than most, seems almost sedated from his usual fury and violence. Cass privately notes that she can't read people as well anymore, and Damian's lethargy looks uncomfortable for him. She gets suspicious, but when no one listens to her concerns, she leaves for Hong Kong again. She's scared that if her levels get higher and they drain her again, she'll lose the ability to read people entirely. She doesn't want to lose such a fundamental part of how she interacts with the world.

When scanning, however, Batman gets pulled aside. They explain they've found a parasitic ghost in Red Hood, and removing it will be a much longer process. They show the ectoplasm levels, the scans with a visible core. Bruce connects this to the Pit Rage, and agrees to let them take Hood, hoping he will finally get his son back. Jason is cautious, but eventually agrees. This could be the cure he never thought he'd get.

The GIW is estatic. They've discovered a new halfa, and if they do this right, they'll be able to study halfa development. They have Phantom to tear apart to see what an actualised halfa looks like, but watching Hood grow and form? Trying to influence his development, maybe even weaponise him? This is an opportunity they have to make the most of. All they have to do is claim the parasite killed Hood before they could remove it, and they can keep him forever.

The second Jason is alone with the GIW, they sedate him. He wakes up in a cage too small to stand in, right next to the very Phantom he helped capture. The kid is asleep, curled on the floor, bleeding through loose stitches on an autopsy wound. He immediately realises they fucked up, and his rage/guilt/panic attack wakes Phantom up. He expected the kid to be angry, upset, even gleeful that Jason was caught too. He didn't expect the kid to look at him with sad pity, to calm him down and say he's sorry that Jason was mislead and betrayed like this. That yeah, shit's gonna suck now, but Danny (as he insisted) would be there for him for as long as their cages were kept together. That unlike Danny these past few months, Jason wouldn't be dealing with it alone.

The scientists slowly feed Jason ectoplasm, and cut him open daily to monitor how it affects him. Ironically, his Pit Rage is cured, but that doesn't make it any better. If anything, it's worse, because now he's fully cognizant and has no extra energy to fight with. He still does fight at first, even without the Pit, but he knows no one's coming to his rescue. Eventually, he joins Danny in his nihilistic snark and dead-eyed stare. And yeah, they joked about that pun.

Time becomes meaningless. They do whatever they can to escape the hopelessness. Horrifyingly morbid jokes, empty bets on what form of torture they'll endure next, whispered stories about the people they miss. They reach through electrified bars just to feel a hand that doesn't mean harm. They spill their guts, metaphorically and literally, exchanging their deepest fears and secrets until they know each other entirely. Their necessary codependency becomes actual love, because how can you go through this together and know each other so deeply and not love each other? Platonically or romantically or the secret third option that's just insanely codependent affection.

Not sure who ends up rescuing them, but I'm thinking either a) Tim gets suspicious, b) the Outlaws go hunting, or c) Cass realises they have Jason and immediately freaks out. Whoever, they meet up with Team Phantom. Tucker and Sam been on the run since Danny was caught, and Jazz could be in Arkham? Or dead, or on the run too. Team Phantom was only held back by their lack of muscle (that's usually Danny), and now that they have trained fighters on their side, they're able to break in and get their boys. Cue long healing journey and revenge time.

[gigiwritess]

BACK TO EARTH

dr. jack abbott x f!resident!reader!vega aka "wildcard"

wc: 2,100 synopsis: the weeks go by—until the pittfest happens. jack wasn't even supposed to be working, but there he was. he didn't expect to have to save vega from herself, too, as her personal dark spiraled out of her control.

contents: 20-year age gap (vega is 26, jack is 46). vega's worsening mental health issues; she's having an anxiety attack, but it's not heavily described. usual pitt dynamics. probably lots of medical inaccuracies that i'm not gonna apologize for. this is totally self-inserted and vega is totally based in lots of aspects of myself. this list is concerns general warnings and specific chapter warnings—i'm gonna keep updating it as i go

gigi's notes: hi people!!!! i'm sorry for not posting the 3rd piece sooner. besides work, classes, organizing and academic conference, my depression keeps getting the best of me and i dissociate and don't do all the shit i need to do and it's an endless cycle. so it took me a bit longer to be able to flesh it out exactly how i wanted this to go and to find the right voice for the things i wanted to write. i really loved this piece and i hope you like it to. i'll try my best to write the next one sooner <3 about the 'jack abbot x reader x frank langdon love triangle', i can tell she's here and she's called TRAITOR (based on the song TRAITOR by elley duhé). i'm nowhere near finished but i'm already at 3k soooo it might take a bit longer to finish cooking it. i should probably make a list of jack abbot's works in progress because i have many lol i'm also gonna write jack abbot x firefighter!reader bc it's my alter-ego, probably a mini-series shorter than BRIGHTER, and i'm also thinking of somethinng like jack abbot x brat!reader in nessa barrett's vibes. as you can tell, jack abbot is rotting my brain :()

PLAYLIST | NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST

PREV | NEXT

There was something wrong.

The worst of the Pittfest chaos had passed. The ER wasn’t quiet—it never was—, but now the screaming had dulled down to murmurs, the steady beep of machines, the last critical cases being dealt with. Even though it wasn’t over, there was finally a small semblance of quiet starting to spread.

Jack was hands-deep in a tracheotomy when it happened—a kid. Couldn’t have been older than ten. Vega had been working on him since he arrived; Jack caught a glimpse of her across the room as she stopped her compressions and called time of death. He saw the way she stilled for a second, the way something in her eyes cracked. She didn’t lose it, didn’t panic, didn’t break protocol. Just took a deep breath and moved on. But he saw the look in her eyes. He knew that look.

He knew, the moment she stepped out of Trauma Two, her shoulders sagging, her hands shaking as she pulled the latex gloves off with far more force than necessary, there was something wrong.

The beeping from the monitor finally went back to a steady rhythm; his patient was stable. Jack could finally breathe normally again; no one else was calling out his name to go help another patient. He ripped off his gloves, shoved a blood-soaked gown into a bin, and wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. By the time his patient was finally handed off, Vega was gone.

He probably shouldn’t have been paying that much attention to her all this time working together, but he couldn’t help it—he was, by nature, an observant person; he had thrived in workplaces exactly because of that. But Vega was the biggest mystery Jack had ever faced—the most fascinating one.

Every time they worked together or were near each other—which happened way more frequently than it should’ve, considering they worked opposing shifts—, he noticed something about her, sometimes without even meaning to.

It was almost as if she were a giant magnet and he was made of iron (part of him was, at least). He noticed the way her forehead would furrow whenever she was in deep thinking; he noticed the way she would let a quiet groan escape when stretching her back, always a grimace of pain she was quick to disguise when there were people around. He noticed how picky she was with her fingers, always scratching something, filing her nails, finding something to fix in her cuticles. He noticed how expressive she was; how her face always showed what she was feeling, even when she was trying to pretend otherwise.

He noticed a lot of things about her. Especially how well she held herself together, but her eyes gave her away—he always saw right through them.

It took him longer than it should’ve to find her. She wasn’t in the break room, wasn’t in the stairwell. Not in the far supply closet that staff usually went to scream into empty shelves, not in the ambulance bay.

It was one of the old, near-empty trauma bays, half-lit, curtain drawn. Vega sat on the edge of a gurney, knees close to her chest, elbows on her knees. Her hands were covering her face, her palms pressed against her eyes as if she could absorb back her own tears.

Jack didn’t announce himself. He just stepped inside, quietly closed the door behind him, pulling the curtain shut. For a moment, he just stood there. The room felt too small, the air too heavy.

“Vega?” He called out in a low voice, rough from a long, chaotic day.

No response—she didn’t move. He could hear her small, soft sobs.

He crossed the room in two strides, invading her space, her knees touching his chest. Carefully, gently, Jack took her hands in his and slowly pulled them away from her face, her eyes, wet with tears, sealed shut as he lowered her hands to her sides.

“Look at me,” Jack said, both his hands coming to cup her face, firm and steady, warm palms against the sides of her neck.

She did. Her eyes, usually so full of fire and life, were dark, red-rimmed, almost vacant as they met his. It was as if an angry, destructive storm had passed through them, taking everything in its wake, taking a piece of her with it. A storm that had been hidden deep, brewing for some time—not just the Pittfest.

“Breathe.” Quietly, she did. “In and out.”

Her breathing hitched, the tears subsiding, the tremor in her chest slowly fading away. His thumbs brushed the sharp line of her cheekbones—not soft, not tender. Grounding. Just enough to tether her back to Earth, back to the present, away from her spiraling thoughts, back to him.

“Good girl,” he muttered as her breath came in shaky but obedient, almost even now.

It was meant to come out as a tease, something for her to laugh, to bring her back to reality. But it didn’t sound that way, not as she shivered, not as his thumb grazed the corner of her mouth. Not as her gaze fell to his lips once, twice before flicking back to his eyes. It shouldn’t have made his stomach twist—but it did. They stayed that way for a moment, just breathing, just looking at each other, existing in each other’s space. Simply being with each other, her pulse a steady rhythm against his fingers.

But his eyes betrayed him—his gaze dropped to her lips before he could stop himself. Maybe it was the tiredness. Maybe it was the blood stuck under his nails, or the way his chest still ached from all the patients he’d lost. Or maybe it was the way that here, in this room, right now, with her, none of it mattered.

Jack leaned in—Vega met him halfway. It wasn’t a careful kiss, not sweet. It was like a collision of exhaustion and adrenaline, and months of looking at each other as if they were two souls who knew something about each other, who recognized something in each other. Her hands gripped the collar of his scrubs, his palms sliding to the back of her neck—it was a kiss meant to ground them both. Hard and a little desperate, meant to translate everything that couldn’t be said yet. No promises, no words, no soft confessions. Just here, right now.

When they pulled apart, their foreheads stood almost touching for a moment. Jack’s breath was ragged; his hands still cupped her face.

“Keep looking at me like that, old man,” she said, voice hoarse, “and I might start thinking you like having me around.”

The wicked smirk on her lips, swollen from his kiss, was the first real thing he’d seen on her face all night.

It took a moment for her teasing to hit its mark, for him to realize she was back. “Yeah, yeah,” he laughed. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Jack was the first to pull back, hands falling away slowly, reluctantly. The air between them still crackled, was still charged as they stared at each other for a moment longer, the memory and the weight of the kiss too fresh, too sharp. For a second, neither of them spoke.

Outside, someone faintly asked about more negative O units—the world hadn’t stopped.

He jerked his chin toward the toward.

“Come on, Wildcard,” he said, the usual sharp-edged version of him settling back into place, “you’ve got a shift to finish.”

There was something about the way he uttered ‘Wildcard’. It was not in the usual teasing, mocking way people did. It felt personal—he spoke it like a secret kept between just the two of them.

She slid off the gurney, her hand brushing his as she walked, her pinkie tangling with his for a single moment before she put distance between them. Her expression was the same as it always was—cool, a little cocky, composed. But her pulse was still visible at her throat.

Jack noticed. Of course he did.

The world was calmer now as they sat down on the park benches, Matteo happily handing beers to whomever would accept. Life still went on around them—music thudding faintly against the night air, sirens going off in the distance—but here it felt quieter. Slower.

Vega looked up; the night sky was clear and bright, stars twinkling faintly. Jack sat beside her on the same worn-out bench. He was sitting close, almost too close. His thigh brushed hers, solid and warm; his arm bumped hers when he shifted slightly to accommodate his prosthetic leg, but he didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned closer, the barest tilt of his body, casual enough that no one would notice.

She noticed—every single second. She could’ve inched away, could’ve created a little space. She didn’t.

They hadn’t spoken since leaving that trauma bay, hadn’t worked together—only traded stolen glances throughout the ER, glances full of everything they didn’t recognize yet.

“You held up good today,” Jack said, nudging her leg with his left knee, beer in hand, “better than most.” He angled his body towards her, looking at her profile.

She nudged his leg back, turning her head to look at him, finding his eyes. “Even with a breakdown?”

“Even then,” he said, sipping his beer and staring intently into her.

Vega tried to play it off, act cool—but her throat still tightened all the same as she held his gaze, as she tried not to think about the anxiety black hole she’d just barely clawed her way out of. She tried not to think about how everything had been spiraling each time worse than the previous, each time getting far out of her control, until his warm, steady hands pulled her out. She didn’t want to think about how grounding his touch felt—or how his kiss felt like a lifeline she didn’t know she needed, how his kiss felt like being above the surface after being underwater for so long, how his kiss felt like feeling a spark of something after being numb for so long.

But that was all she could think about as she looked into his eyes, as the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them under the amber streetlights.

She looked away; her heart sounded stupidly loud in her ears, overwhelming. She took a breath, trying to quiet it down.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” she said, breaking the moment, pretending like it didn’t weigh heavily on her chest. “But thank you.”

“I know,” Jack said after a beat, a half-smirk ghosting across his mouth. “Guess I just have a thing for trouble.”

Vega let out a breath of a laugh, genuine, small, and surprised, meant just for him. Something warm started to spread over her chest, something good. When she turned to him again, her eyes were brighter, crinkling just a little at the corners. She shouldn’t say anything—or at least say something else. But she couldn’t help it when his eyes had a spark of something daring, of something dangerous, something familiar.

“Yeah? That why you keep hanging around?”

The air between them went still. Heavy, charged. Like something coiled and tense, just waiting for someone to make a move—any move.

Feeling just a bit emboldened by the spark in his eyes, she reached out and snagged the beer right out of his hand. Jack’s eyebrows shot up, surprised, but he let her do it, watching as she lifted it to her lips and took a long sip. Brave. Almost defiant.

Vega handed the beer back. Eyes still locked on Jack’s hazel ones, his fingers closed around hers, slow, deliberate, and his head tipped toward her, just a bit, like he was going to say something to Robby instead—he didn’t.

Jack’s mouth brushed near her ear, low enough that only she caught it, meant just for her.

“Careful, kid. Keep that up and I’ll think you’re flirting.”

It was her turn to stay silent, her breath caught like a deer caught in a trap, just for a split second before she masked it into a tiny, sly smile. Her cheeks, her whole face, felt like it was on fire. She didn’t need to look at him to feel the wicked grin tugging at his mouth.

Vega leaned back against the bench, purposefully pressing her shoulder against his. She said nothing as she stole his beer again, brushing his fingers—and he let her—, acting as if her heart was beating normally. It wasn’t. Not since his kiss brought her back to earth.

@cosmoscoffeee @mackycat11 @sunfairyy @starkgaryan @amandarobertsboyce @starlight-starbright-8080 @patatesliomlet @saynotononsense @sweetestcowboy @diaryofafeelsaddict 

[fireinmoonshot]

safety first | boone x fem!reader

Pairing: Boone x Fem!Reader Summary: After a close call during a chase, you have a panic attack and Boone helps you through it and keeps you company afterwards. Warnings: Reader has a panic attack, slight PTSD/trauma references Word Count: 1.6k A/N: I've been wanting to write for Boone forever and finally I am here posting something for him. I love his character so much and this was fun to write. I'm definitely gonna be writing more for him in the future so please send in any requests for him (as well as other Twisters characters, of course)! I should be asleep right now cause I have work early in the morning but here I am, yet again being head over heels for the Twisters characters... anyway, enjoy! 💗

Six months ago, you had walked up to Boone and Tyler, standing around the truck waiting to head out on a chase, and told them that you were riding with them today.

Unsurprisingly, that hadn’t gone very well.

Ever since you’d joined the Wranglers, your job had been simple – stay with Dexter and Dani at a safe distance away from the tornadoes and edit the videos for YouTube. But you always felt like something was missing. That you couldn’t properly edit the videos to capture the true chaos of storm chasing if you weren’t experiencing it too.

Boone and Tyler had been incredibly against the idea, trying to convince you to stay with Dexter and Dani or even just ride with Lily if you wanted more of a thrill, but you hadn’t budged and eventually, they’d come around. 

They had only one condition: whenever you rode with them, there would be absolutely no driving into tornadoes. They’d get closer than Dexter and Dani, but not close enough that you could be seriously injured if something went wrong.

Technically it had been a condition of Boone’s but Tyler had agreed with it and you had too, realising that accepting it was your only chance at getting closer to the storms.

Today, however, things had gotten a little too close for comfort. Everything had been going to plan at first. The storm was a good one and when the tornado touched down, you were close enough to get a great view of it without being in the path. 

But then the conditions changed and with them, the direction of the tornado changed as well. 

You tried your best not to think about it as you washed your hair in the motel, enjoying the feeling of the hot water on your aching body. It had shaken you up enough when it had happened, you didn’t need to dwell on it any longer.

Just as you turn the taps off you hear a knock on the bathroom door. 

“No rush, but you nearly done in there?” 

Boone’s voice. The two of you were sharing a room at the motel. Everyone had paired off when you’d arrived and since you’d been the last one to grab your stuff, you also got the last room, which ended up being with Boone.

Not that you minded. Boone was a good roommate.

“Just about!” You call back, hurrying to dry off and get dressed so you can get out of the bathroom and let Boone have it. 

When you come out of the bathroom, towel drying your hair, Boone is sat on one of the two beds, feet kicked up comfortably. Your laptop is on his lap and by the sounds coming from it, he’s going over footage.

“You stealin’ my job, Boone?” 

He flashes you a grin. “Oh, I’d never. Gotta keep my girl around.” 

You ignore the butterflies that erupt in your stomach and cross the room towards him, perching on the bed beside him and  taking a glance at the screen. He hands you the laptop as he pushes himself up and off the bed. 

“Thought we could go over it together since we’re roomies for tonight,” Boone suggests. “I’ll shower and then we can try and get a start on the edit if ya don’t fall asleep on me first.”

You nod, happy about the idea of having someone else there to go over the footage with because of the stress of the day, and try your best to get comfy on the bed while he heads into the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for curiosity to get the better of you, though, and you tap the space bar, making the video continue playing where Boone had stopped it. 

It’s honestly a little strange, watching the footage from a different angle of what you’d experienced from the back seat. It’s easy to admit that the chase today was the first time you were actually, genuinely afraid while chasing.

You watch the way the windscreen wipers catch on the windscreen, the debris and branches hitting it as Tyler tries to get you out of the path as quickly as possible. You can hear the sound of the wind rushing against the truck in the video, the rain pelting against the side of it and the feeling of the truck moving with the wind while Tyler desperately tries to keep control of it. 

It’s not until your breathe catches in your throat that you realise your heart is beating way too fast and your breaths are coming too quickly, too heavily. All of a sudden it feels like you can’t breathe anymore. Like there’s no more air to breathe at all.

You have no idea how long you’re sitting there, struggling to breathe, until you feel the bed dipping underneath you with the weight of someone sitting on it – Boone.

“Hey, baby you gotta breathe, c’mon,” Boone gently rests a hand on one of your knees in an attempt to help ground you again, thumb stroking it softly. “Can you look at me, baby?”

It takes all your strength to move your eyes from the now paused video on the laptop screen and up to Boone’s eyes. You have no memory of pausing it and realise that it must’ve been Boone who did it for you. 

Boone looks relieved when you meet his eyes.

“That’s it,” he nods. “Can you breathe with me? In and out, slowly. I’ll count with you, okay? One, two, three…” He breathes with you, taking long, deep breaths until you start to follow him.

You finally start to feel your heat beat start to steady and your breathing slowing down. But with it, you feel a little light-headed thanks to the hyperventilation. 

Boone continues counting with you until your breathing is back to normal. You squeeze your eyes shut and take another long, deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” Your voice sounds weak, even to your own ears, so you can’t imagine how it sounds to him – or how your lie sounds. You know exactly what happened and you know Boone does too.

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologise, ‘kay? You’re all right, you’re safe. Nothin’s gonna happen to you, I promise.”

You’re a little afraid to open your eyes again, not wanting to see the image still paused on the screen of the laptop, worried that it might bring back the panic you’d just fought so hard to get rid of, but it’s almost like Boone can read your mind.

“I closed the laptop, baby. You can open your eyes.”

Carefully, you blink them open and see the closed laptop sitting on the bed beside you. “Thank you,” you mutter. “But… wait, no, Boone, I need to start editing.”

Boone strokes a thumb over your knee. “Dex and Dani can do it. You’re not doin’ this one, ‘kay?” He pauses. “You wanna talk about it?”

You look at him for a moment before shaking your head. If you even try to talk about it, you’re not sure that you’ll be able to keep calm and the last thing you want is to have another panic attack in front of Boone, even though you know he wouldn’t judge you for it.

“It’s all right,” he assures you. “Honestly, kinda scared the shit outta me today too but probably for a different reason than yours.” He laughs a little, more at himself than at anything else.

“You don’t get scared by tornadoes,” you say.

Boone flashes you a smile. “No, but I do get worried about you, baby.” 

Your eyebrows knit together and you’re just about to ask Boone to elaborate on why he gets so worried about you when he cuts you off, once again almost like he’s reading your mind. 

“Not today,” he says. “Some other time when you’re not shakin’ like a leaf.” Boone shuffles to sit up beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and tugging you into his side. He kicks the laptop out of the way towards the end of the bed. “C’mon, try and get some rest.”

“I’m not going to sleep on you,” you shake your head. “This bed is tiny.”

“Don’t care,” Boone says, resting his head against the back of the headboard. “I’m not movin’ till you’re fast asleep and gettin’ some well needed rest.”

You stare up at him. “Boone, you’ve had a big day, too.”

“Baby,” Boone looks down at you, his eyes serious. “Will you stop arguing with me and just try and get some sleep? Today was just a normal Tuesday for me, but it wasn’t for you.”

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, letting silence fall over you for a few moments. “I actually can’t sleep while my hair is still wet or I’ll feel gross in the morning.” Your words are quick, not wanting to irritate Boone any more.

Boone, however, hears every single one of them. He lets out an annoyed huff – even though he’s not annoyed at you in the slightest – and moves to slide off of the bed.

“Where are you going?” You sit up, slightly alarmed and already missing the warmth of his body beside yours.

“Don’t think I’m lettin’ you ride in the truck with us next time, baby,” he starts, changing the topic as he walks into the bathroom. “I know you wanna be up in the action more often to help with the videos, but you being safe is more important than getting views on Youtube.” 

“Boone–”

He emerges from the bathroom holding the motel hairdryer. “Is there a plug beside the bed?” He asks, wandering back over to you. “I’m gonna dry your hair for you. No arguing.”

[whumpgifathon]

Hello! And welcome to the whump gifmaking challenge! I'm your host @aceofwhump and I'm excited to bring another year of a whump challenge specifically created with gifmakers and visual artists in mind.

The challenge begins in August!

Rules:

All gifs posted must be made by you. Do not just post gifs using the gif keyboard and claim them as yours and do not repost other people’s gifs. No AI-generated content please.

Various mediums are welcome! So long as the visual art aspect is the focus you can make whatever you want. Yes this is primarily a gifmaking challenge so everything is geared towards that but any visual art is welcome. If you draw, make moodboards, edits, videos, etc you’re welcome to participate!

You can use the prompts however you like. There is no wrong way to use a prompt. Feel free to interpret them however you wish. If you think it counts as whump? It's whump! Make it! Angst, comfort, emotional whump, small things, big things, it all counts so no need to over think it.

Tag all potential triggers (things like emeto, gore, nsfw, blood, eye whump, rape/noncon, etc.) When in doubt, tag it.

Tags to use when posting so I can find your ppst: #whumpedit, #whumpgifathon, #whump gifs

Please try to include the show/movie title, character names, and episode number (if applicable) somewhere either in your tags or in the post caption. This way anyone interested in watching it can find it easily.

An example of a way you can caption your gifsets:

@whumpgifathon | Day #: "prompt description"Show/Movie title, episode number, character name

2025 Prompt List

(edited to include day 24 which I somehow left out the first time)

A text version of the prompt list can be found below the read more:

Whump Gifathon - August 2025 Prompt List

Day 1: A Whumper’s Toolbox

Needles  |  Crow Bar  |    Baseball Bat

Day 2: Accidental Whumping

Falling   |  A Hard Whack  |   Broken Glass

Day 3: Space: The Final Frontier

Spacesuit   |   Isolation  |   Hull Breach

Day 4: Emotions Are Overwhelming

Fetal Position  |   Grief   |   Panic Attack

Day 5: How Did We Get Ourselves Into This Situation?

Sports Injury   |   Captivity   |   Bullying

Day 6: Skills/Theme - Tiny Details

Zoom in, show us those tiny whump things that give you whumperflies. Eye fluttering closed? Bruising? A bandage peeking out? Shaking hands? Tear tracks? What's your favorite? Show us!

Day 7: Say What Now?

“Are you okay?”   |   “I don’t feel good.”   |   “I got you”

Day 8: We Didn’t Start the Fire

Burns   |   High Fever   |   Smoke Inhalation

Day 9: You Should Probably Get That Looked At

Self Care   |   Broken Bones   |   Bleeding

Day 10 : All Tied Up With Nowhere to Go

Ropes   |   Shackled   |   Pinned Down

Day 11: The Tortured Whumpees Department

Waterboarding   |   Whipped   |    Drugged

Day 12: Vulnerability

Scar Reveal   |   Hidden Injury   |   Laid Bare

Day 13: Skills/Theme - Hold Your Positions!

Today is all about stress positions! Every whumper loves a good stress position but I’m sure we all have our favorites. Is it being hung from the ceiling by their wrists? Or maybe having them kneel down with a rope around their neck to hold them up? Or having their arms tied to a pole so they’re stretched to the sides? Show us your favorite one!

Day 14: Try a Little Tenderness

Comfort   |     Help to Walk   |    Blankets

Day 15: “You’re Safe Now.”

Rescue     |  Dragged to Safety    |     Protective

Day 16: I Don’t Feel So Good

Passing Out    |     Throwing Up      |      Dizziness 

Day 17: Aesthetic 

Covered in blood   |   Bruises    |    Tear Stained

Day 18: Hospital

Needing Oxygen   |  Coma  |  Bedside Vigil  

Day 19: Skills/Theme - Gif making!

Today we’re gonna showcase our gifmaking skills. Whether you’re a beginner or long time gifmaker this is the day to learn something new or to practice something you think you can improve on. Coloring? Subtitles? Blending? Text animation? Overlays? Background coloring? What do you want to show? What do you want to learn? What do you want to try?

Day 20: Language Barrier

Harsh Words   |  Different Languages   |   Alone

Day 21: Rumors of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated.

Resurrection     |     Presumed Dead     |       On The Run

Day 22: There is No “I” in Team

Team Member Whump     |     Forced to Watch       |       Search and Rescue

Day 23: I Put a Spell On You

Magical Healing    |   Cursed     |    Witch Burning

Day 24: Get Me Out Of Here

Buried Alive   |  Trunk of a Car   |   Collapsed Building

Day 25: Skills/Theme - Underappreciated Tropes

We all have our favorite tropes that don’t get enough attention right? Here’s your chance! Give them all the attention and love!   

Day 26: Environmental Disasters

Earthquake  |  Hurricane  |  Wildfire

Day 27: It’s Just Temporary (Maybe)

Amnesia    |   Blinded  |    Hearing Loss  

Day 28: A Whumper’s Delight

Caged     |    Stabbed    |    Manhandled/Grabbed

Day 29: The Past Comes Back To Haunt You

PTSD     |   Terrible Childhood     |      Flashbacks

Day 30: Skills/Theme -  Location, Location, Location

The place of the whumping is just as important as the whump itself. What’s your favorite? A forest? Hospital? Abandonded buidling? The ocean?

Day 31: 

Beaten     |   Gunshot     |      Collapsing

Alternate Prompts:

Caught in an Explosion

Animal Trap

Coughing

Handcuffed

CPR

Knife to the Throat

Flinching

Withdrawal

Ice Pack

Hanging off a Ledge

[littlerequiem]

we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 2

> Crossposted on AO3

Levi hasn't seen you in a year, and he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely. Or: After the war, you and Levi learn to live in this new world.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Levi Ackerman / Female Reader (Attack on Titan)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 - Rated Explicit (18+). Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Grumpy/Sunshine, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Chronic Pain, Panic Attack, Depression, Ambulatory Wheelchair Use, Descriptions of the Rumbling (WC: 6.4k).

( Previous chapter / Next chapter / WMTS' Masterlist )

It’s past curfew when you catch a glimpse of Levi on the rooftop of the infirmary. He's been coming up here this past week, though this is the first time you approach him.

“You gonna tell anyone?” Levi asks. He’s playing with a small pocket knife, twirling it in his hand.

You consider his question. No doubt Erwin would want to know about his new gamble sneaking away from the barracks every evening. Then again, knowing Erwin, he might already know and chooses to just let it slide anyway.

You lean your weight over the edge of the window sill, gazing at the way moonlight crowns Levi's hair. “Are you going to hurt anyone with that knife?”

Levi's eyes twinkle in the night. “What, just because I’m from the Underground means I’m gonna stab someone?”

“Actually,” you say carefully, “I was more worried about you hurting yourself.”

His eyes lose their fire; he focuses back on his knife. “I won’t.”

.

.

.

Freedom—it is the ability to stare at endless blue skies; it is horse riding until dusk; it is choices and opinions and being able to voice them.

These days, Levi takes it for granted, his freedom. He’s an ungrateful asshole like that.

If the people from his childhood were here, they'd surely spit in his face. Try to beat him to a pulp. Here he is, lacking gratitude, when some poor lowlife was born and died in that shit hole that was the Underground.

Levi hears that the Underground doesn’t exist anymore. You’ve told him that the Rumbling caused earthquakes to fracture the ground, that much of the subterranean city has been buried under. There were some casualties, of course, but the worst could be avoided since Historia ordered to evacuate years prior.

Levi wonders if the people now discovering life above ground still have violence in their blood the way he once did when he first saw the sun.

“Levi, where is your secret tea stash?”

Your question muffles over the sound of the kettle groaning awake. It tears him right out of his thoughts and away from the headline he'd been reading: More than 75% of refugees in Marley now rehoused, much work still remains in the mental aftermath of the war.

“Why would I have a secret tea stash?” he asks. 

A hand covers your yawn. “Well... you always had a secret tea stash, didn't you?”

“To hide from cadets and their grubby fingers. I’m all alone here.”

“Mm... you could still want to hide a thing or two from me.”

“Then I wouldn’t tell ya where it was, would I?” Levi leans one elbow over the kitchen table, chin lazily resting on the center of his palm. His index finally pokes out to give directions. “S’on the left side, second cupboard.”

Your gaze follows his directive, only to look at him with a slightly more straight posture. “See, that wasn’t so hard.” You stick your tongue out, like a damn child. “Words. They help.”

Levi refrains from rolling his eyes. He watches you reach for the tea. 

Levi has been up for several hours now, breakfast long since consumed. You, on the other hand, just got up, the whisks of sleep still present in your cadence, in the corners of your eyes. An anomaly to be sure—Levi remembers you being an early riser, but he supposes that habits, just like people, change.

You turn to face him, looking uncertainly at the tin in your hand. “Are you sure I'm allowed to drink this?” 

“Yeah." 

"But isn't this special? Isn't this tea from Paradis?"

It is tea from Paradis, courtesy of Armin. It's one of Levi's last boxes, in fact. He knows he'll eventually run out of it, and while he supposes he could ask for more of it, he thinks his taste buds will just need to adapt to something else. That's just the way life goes.

"You know," he mutters, "if you’re gonna be like this about every little thing around the house, it's gonna get tiring real fast.”

You turn away from you, focusing on the tea preparations. “I’m just being polite."

“Why? You never bothered before."

"Ouch. Harsh, much?”

"S'not," Levi mumbles, running a hand through his hair. It’s freshly washed, still a bit damp. "I mean, no need to act all fake and shit."

"Okay... but this isn't like life in the Survey Corps. This is your house."

His house. Levi doesn't know if he should be more possessive about these things, the way he's seen some townspeople be with their possessions, but Levi's just never been one to care about these things. He never has.

Levi flips his newspaper to the next page. "So long as you keep the place clean, I don’t care about the rest."

“You don’t care?”

You've turned back in his direction, and his eyes meet yours. There's a spark in your gaze.

Oh you’re taunting him.

Levi crosses his arms over his chest. "Drill this into your head, Adler: anything that’s mine is yours, so just treat this place as such.”

That seems to shut you right up. You blink with a dumbfounded expression, apparently startled by his (accidental) turn of phrasing. It’s soon replaced by words uttered beneath your breath, words Levi doesn’t quite grasp because his own ears are whistling. He returns his attention back to the newspaper, attempting to shrug off the weight of the innuendo.

Anything that’s mine is yours. What a stupid thing to say. That almost sounded like a confession or some shit. One day in, and Levi's already screwing up with his words.

For the next minute, Levi tries his damn best to focus on his newspaper.

“Getting her beauty rest, huh?” You place cups of tea on the table, one pushed towards him, along with a plate for the infusers. You're eying Scout, who's sound asleep on the chair next to him. “She seems glued to your side.” 

“Kittens sleep a lot,” Levi supplies lamely.

“In any case, it’s cute to see the two of you together.”

Levi turns the handle of his cup to his left side. “Please.”

“Can you imagine what everyone would say? The fearless Captain Levi, succumbing to a cat—”

"Quit talking and just drink your tea, would you?”

You smirk. “Aye, aye, captain."

For the next minutes, silence does fall, and his peripheral catches your chest rising and falling peacefully. You take to staring outside the window, looking at the view of the sea glimmering in the distance. He follows your line of sight, noting that there’s a buildup of crusted salt around the windows. Levi should clean that before summer ends.

“Hey, so,” you interrupt after a while, “I was thinking of going to the market today. Get a few things... Maybe find a job.”

Levi gazes at you. “A job?” 

“Mm, yeah. Something that makes sense for me...”

You want to get back to the medical field, already? You just got here.

“Why the hurry?"

“Well…" you say, "I don’t want to leech off you forever—”

“You're not.”

“Still, it'd be good for me, right?” You shoot a bright smile—something too bright about it. Levi's eyes narrow. “Anyway, you wanna join? You know... I’d love to meet all the nosy people you’ve told me about.”

Levi purses his lips, feeling as though you glossed over that subject much too quickly. A part of him wants to nudge you a bit, though his usual habit to just let you be kicks in. Whatever you're hiding, you have your reasons.

Levi considers your proposal. He knows it'd be better if he didn’t join, seeing how damn foolish he’s already acting. He should try to set clear boundaries with you.

And yet—

“Sure,” comes out of him all the same.

Well, so much for that, anyway.

.

.

.

“You flew.”

You stand there, staring at the sight of the man as he finishes his round of training.

Levi shoots you a look, grappling with the hand grips. “I’m just using the gear correctly.”

You take a step towards him. “No, but you’re amazing. You must know that, right? I’m not a soldier, but… I know talent when I see it.”

He gives you an odd look then, and before you have a chance to say anything else, propels himself in the air and disappears into the shadows of the forest.

.

.

.

At the market, Levi is like your brooding shadow. He’s in his wheelchair today, and you’re pushing him as you ask questions about various topics. 

(“Look, Levi—all these teas! Have you tried any of them?”

“A few.”)

(“I'm gonna buy some flowers to plant in the gardens. Is that alright?”

“Do what you want.”) 

(“Is the sea always so pretty?”

“Sometimes, there's shit that gets carried in.”

"Fish feces you mean?"

"And other crap." 

"You know, your potty mouth hasn't changed one bit."

"Why the hell would it have changed?")

(“'Vi, look! A car."

"Hm.

"I think I’d like to try learning to drive. Get over my fear, you know?”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Hey, give me some credit! S’not so different from riding a horse, right?”

“You’ve got a few screws loose up there, you know that?”)

Well, Levi was never great at talking. Not that you seem to mind; you’ve always liked to ask him questions and fill in the blanks when needed. Most of the time, it’s the silence that sits comfortably between the two of you that Levi appreciates so much anyway. It just is, like a soft cloud fills the sky with shapes.

You're now moving next to him, calmly taking in the sight of the buzzing market. It's a little too busy for Levi's liking, but the sight of you distracts him: you’re wearing a sunhat with ribbons, coupled with your cotton overalls. Levi’s never seen you wear a hat like this one before, but he thinks it suits you.

“You should protect your skin from the sun,” you said earlier. “That’s why I wear a hat.”

“I didn’t come to the surface to run away from the sun,” he grumbled back, even if he did notice how warm summers in Marley truly are (and yes, he’d gotten sunburned on several occasions, and also yes, his injured eye stings every time the sun shines too brightly... but, still, Levi wouldn’t budge).

“Good morning, dear boy! What a surprise to see ya here!” someone says, tearing Levi out of the thoughts.

Attached to that booming voice is none other than Levi's boss, Adam Jakowski, a carpenter with a heart of gold. Originally an Eldian from Marley, Mr Jakowski was one of the first residents that settled in Mare. 

Today, however, Mr Jakowski isn't here for any carpentry-related trades. Every week-end, the man likes to come here and share the goods his wife makes.

"What brings ya here?" Mr Jakowski asks.

“I was dragged out, believe it or not,” Levi answers, head bobbing towards you.

Next to him, he hears you snort.

“And who might this pretty young lady be? Are you the missus Ackerman, perchance?” Mr Jakowski asks, his tone carrying a curiosity only people genuinely interested in others are capable of mustering.

Levi feels his cheeks burn at the idea, but you just chuckle, swatting a hand in the air to dispel the notion. “No such thing, sir. But I am new to town and it pleases me all the same to make your acquaintance. Miss Adler, charmed to meet you.”

Levi’s brows knit together. It’s the first time he hears you introduce yourself without your profession tied in.

Miss Adler. Not Dr Adler.

Strange.

“Well met, Miss Adler… Well met, indeed! Ah, it is a pleasure to see new faces in Mare, especially a lovely one such as yours. Will ya be staying here for a while?”

“Mm. Who knows?” You smile. “I can’t quite say yet, to tell the truth.”

Levi’s throat suddenly feels a little thick.

“Anyway, what are you selling here, sir?” you ask, peering over the stall of the merchant, gazing at all the products and zeroing on a particular one: a red paste.

“The one you're eying is a paste from the eastern part of Marley, miss. It’s made with paprika, bell-peppers and some chilis, you see. Great for inflammations and stomach issues,” the old man explains. He makes you smell it, then turns around to sprinkle it onto something. “You can coat it like so,” he raises a piece of bread that he smears with the red paste, “or add it to your cooking.”

He hands you the toast.

You bite into it, chewing for several moments as you raise a hand over your mouth. “Walls! It does have such a particular taste. It’s the aftertaste, right? Spicy.”

Your eyes wander to meet Levi’s, and you raise the bread slightly in his direction as if to inquire if he wants to taste it as well. Levi shakes his head, and you shoot him a smile, gulping the rest of the food down.

Levi crosses his arms over his chest. Next to him, he hears the way you engage in easy conversation, talking about the weather, how the region has adjusted to the influx of settlers, how you're looking for a job and how, yes, you’d love to meet his wife and daughter!

The rest flies over his head. Instead, Levi looks up at your sunhat again, admiring the way it hugs the shape of your skull, the way the ribbons flow gently with the breeze.

Levi wonders if he could buy you a hat. Or sew you a new ribbon. Would you accept his gifts?

At last, you seem convinced of the product and order three jars. This is the moment when Levi comes back to his senses, seeing you rummage through your pockets to find coins to pay for your purchase.

No such luck.

Levi beats you to it, slinging out the leather pouch his first squad gifted him many years ago, placing the change in Mr Jakowski's hands.

You blink, mouth parted, but Levi just plops the jars he receives into your bag, wheeling himself back.

He hears you fumble your goodbyes, thanking Mr Jakowski for his warm welcome, and at once, your voice is in his ears.

“Levi, why did you just pay?” 

“Don’t make a big deal out of nothing.”

“I’m not." You stop in front of him, all stern-looking, hands on your hips. "You didn’t have to do that.”

Levi raises a defiant brow. “But I did, and it’s done.”

“Don’t make it sound so simple. You’re already letting me stay in your house for free. I intend to pay my dues, you know. I have money.”

“I'm sure you do.”

“You—”

“Complain again and I won’t let you pay for a damn thing.”

You close your mouth, glaring at him.

Levi swears he hears something along the lines of ‘I’ll just sneak it back into your pockets later’ whispered under your breath, but when he narrows his eyes in your direction, you feign a look of innocence.

After purchasing more things—a toy for Scout, flower beds for the garden—you both settle in a café on the town’s square. You order some pastries, while Levi takes his usual tea, the closest thing that resembles the tea from Paradis. You watch people from everywhere bustle by while Levi sips on his drink.

“Hey, look!” you point out suddenly. “I’ve never seen those birds before.”

You've pointed to a flock of birds of all colors, no larger than a fist. They’re hopping on the ground, scavenging for food. You get up, asking for some seeds from a waiter to feed them.

“Why did they migrate to this part of the world?” you wonder as you lay out food for them.

Levi doesn’t know what to say. He stares at the birds, nibbling the seeds, admiring the way their feathers seem foreign in this strange land.

Maybe, Levi thinks to himself, just like all the rest of this town, the birds were looking for a new home.

.

.

.

“You know, you should try to teach them.”

Levi’s bored expression swerves in your direction. You’re back to leaning on the window sill, while he sits on the rooftop. A routine, these last weeks.

“What?” Levi mutters.

“Your combat skills. I saw you at training again. I’ve never seen anything quite like the way you handle yourself. You should teach the other cadets.”

His eyes narrow. “Why would I do that?”

“You’ve been out there, right? Seen what the titans are like? You could save their lives.”

.

.

.

The square of Mare is quiet at this time of the evening. A half-moon hangs lazily over the black sky, casting its silver glow over Mare.

You’ve both been drinking. Cheap, bubbly, acidic. Prosecco, a drink native to Marley. It was given to you by a shopkeeper when you picked up bread earlier—all it took was seeing you by his side and hearing you were new in town. The woman practically threw the bottle at you. You tried to refuse, many times over, but the woman wouldn't take no for an answer.

Now, here you are, finishing the bottle together in a park. Levi has joined you on the bench, his wheelchair tucked behind.

Silence.

Levi thinks there’s something on your mind. You’ve never been easy to read; you’ve got a tendency to hide and scheme, to play it off like it’s no big deal, but it’s always your lips that give you away. You bite them when you’re worried, you pout when you’re deep in thoughts.

“Hey.” Levi raises your attention, only to find gentle eagerness on your face. It makes him frown for some reason. “Say something.”

You seem a little taken aback by his directive. “What... what do you want me to say?” 

Levi shrugs. “Just anything.”

“Like… what?”

Levi mulls it over. If it were him, he’d hate to be put on the spot.

“What was your favorite sight?” he inquires a bit awkwardly. “…on your travels.”

“My favorite… sight?”

Levi gives you a look that makes it clear he’s not gonna repeat himself.

“The sea, of course.” You raise your feet on the bench, hugging your knees as you stare off pensively. “It’s funny. With every nation we visited, we saw mountains, deserts and forests… but I kept coming back to the sea.”

Levi remembers the first time he saw the sea. The water, glimmering like thousands of silver gems. The blue sky, coming to meet its shine. The 104th brats, with awestruck wonder. Hange and their brazen curiosity.

And you, the way you’d looked at him…

“I’m glad you’ve picked a place like this one to settle down,” you say. "It kind of feels like a homecoming, you know?"

"Yeah."

“The stars are so bright out here.”

Levi follows your line of sight.

This past year, Levi has rediscovered an admiration for stars. Back inside the Walls, they reminded him of Isabel and Furlan, of his dreams from another life. This past year, they’ve started making him think of you, too.

All because of one of your letters: 'Levi, do you ever think about the fact that, despite the distance that separates us, every night, when we look at the sky, we see the same stars?'

“What else,” he finds himself asking, “what else do you have to say about your travels?”

“Hmm… what do you want to know exactly? I wrote so much in my letters, I’d have thought you’d be tired of hearing about that topic.”

“Yeah, but you only described random shit. What was it like?”

What was it like without me?

That thought hangs on his tongue, begs for relief, but Levi bites it down. It’s not right for him to ask.

And yet, your answer still takes him by surprise, “It was… hard.”

At that, Levi does raise a brow. He finds your gaze already on him.

“The sights were... nice, of course. I got to witness all manners of landscapes. Those were the photographs I sent you in my letters. But then, well, the rest came.”

You swallow loudly.

“Seeing the aftermath of the Rumbling…” Your lower lip quivers as the volume of your tone decreases. “It was horrifying. The emptiness was the worst. It’s not like murdering someone in cold blood, see. There, you have to deal with bodies. But, what Eren did…”

You shudder. Levi thinks you’re trying to even out your breathing, and a part of him wants to reach out to you and squeeze your hand. And yet, he knows there’s nothing he can do to really alleviate those images flashing in your brain. That nothing he does can make it right again, that the pain you feel is the cost both of you need to bear for the rest of your lives.

“After that, I went with Armin because I knew he would need help, because I always believed in diplomacy… because I still believe in it. Even now," you explain. "But many nations hate the Eldians from Paradis. They hate us and maybe they have every right to hate us.”

You stop talking and close your eyes. For a while, the lull in conversation allows Levi to stare at you unabashedly, to commit your features to memory.

“Why did you never say any of this in your letters?” he asks mid-silence.

“I guess it felt easier not to mention it. I don’t know. I wanted you to hear hopeful things in my letters.”

“I’ve seen how shitty the world can be.”

“I know, but that’s exactly why.” Your eyes are on him again. “That’s why I didn’t want you to know it’s still the same out there.”

It makes Levi’s blood rush, like he was some breakable thing that needed to be protected. “You don’t need to coddle me.”

And yet, you don’t even seem to notice the snap in his tone, your crossed arms tightening around your knees.

“I know, Levi,” you whisper. “But that doesn’t mean that my pain is your burden to bear.”

Seeing your deflated expression, dipped chin resting over your knees as you lose yourself to your thoughts, Levi’s defense mechanism fizzles away.

That’s the thing about you.

No matter how harshly he reacts, you never seem to rise to the same level as him, the way others did in the military, and it might be why Levi always found it easier to stay by your side.

“You dumbass,” he says with a sigh. Despite telling himself to hone it back, Levi can’t help but raise a hand to the back of your skull, ruffling your head gently—the only comfort he knows how to hand out right now. “Of course that’s my burden.”

“Levi, you don’t—”

“Don’t give me that.” He pauses, the words heavy on his tongue. “Even I no longer have the rank to prove it… what does it matter? Nothing’s changed.”

“... Nothing’s changed?”

Levi hesitates. So much hangs on this question. Of course, things have changed.

And yet…

Levi retreats his hand, patting his stiff leg. “Some things did.”

“Oh... does it still hurt a lot?”

“Some days more than others. The doctor has helped.”

“I’m glad. Are you still seeing him every other week?”

He nods.

“That’s good... I’m glad.”

Levi's eyes narrow. “You said that already.” You shoot him a lopsided smile. He sighs, shaking his head. “Anyway, you gonna tell me why you stopped calling yourself a doctor?”

Different degrees of surprise flash across your face. Your eyes are wide as saucers, while your mouth stays slightly open.

Levi waits... and waits.

“Hey, you’re not trying to catch flies, are you?” he says, lifting a finger to poke at your chin.

His physical reminder seems to bring you back to the present.

At once, a pout forms on your lips. “How did you know I no longer want to be a doctor?”

Levi shrugs with one arm, pressing his back against the bench. “I guessed, and you just confirmed it.”

“I didn’t think you’d notice so quickly." You let out a wry snort, shaking your head. "Should have known; you’re always so perceptive.”

“And you’re beating around the bush.”

“Indeed, I am. It’s just… I’m scared of your judgment.”

At that, Levi has to frown. 

“Don’t give me that look, Levi Ackerman. Your judgment, yes. You’re a very scary man, just not for all the reasons people think you are.”

In the distance, the sound of seagulls drifts from the skies. 

“When I asked you if I could come here…” you say after a moment, “I kept on thinking to myself: What will Levi think of me?” You raise one hand to your face, glancing at the scar that runs from your index to the lower part of your palm—a memento left by the Yeagerists. “What will he think of this hand?”

Levi stays silent.

Your smile turns bitter. “You always said my hands were made for healing. But after everything that happened, everything we did, they’re not anymore. They can’t be.”

“Hey—”

“—and the question kept playing in a loop in my head. Will Levi think I’m a coward? Will he think less of me for giving up on this? Is he gonna be done with me?”

Levi ignores all the ways you seem to include him in your insecurities and focuses on one thing only: “You’re a lot of things but a coward isn’t one of them.”

You shake your head. “But I am a coward. I don’t have it in me to heal people, not like that anymore.”

Levi doesn’t know why, but there’s anger fizzling in his veins. “Is that why you’re here?” 

Your eyes fire back on him. “No, I didn’t come here to escape, or as a last resort.” You glance away. “But I do feel… lost.”

That makes Levi backtrack. You? Lost? The doctor who blazed through the Survey Corps’ ranks, making her demands known to the Interior and Erwin like it was no big deal, who pushed for changes to save soldiers' lives?

That doesn’t align with the person he knows.

“I don’t think it’s right anymore, the path I chose.” Your tone is suddenly more frail, more vulnerable. “The first three years after the Rumbling, it felt like the right thing to do, giving my skills in helping others but now… Now I feel like a fraud. To arrive here, I had to end lives.”

“We all did.”

“The attack in Trost, the one in Liberio, and so many others…. I killed people there. I did. And I remember your words, Levi, about it being us or them but I… now, whenever I look at my hands, all I see is the stain of blood. After all of that, I just don’t think I’m fit to call myself a doctor anymore.”

“You shouldn’t regret the past.”

“That's easier said than done.”

“Is that why you’re now calling yourself Miss Adler?”

You nod.

Levi purses his lips. He cannot understand your perspective, not truly. His own moral compass has never been set right. To him, killing was always about survival and there was never good or bad. There simply was the act and the aftermath. There was the fact that he needed to keep on pushing, for humanity.

Despite this, Levi wants to understand. He wants to tell you that your hands did heal, that they continue to heal in invisible ways. He wants to tell you that however you want to become want, it’s all fine to him.

“Then start over,” he declares.

“Right.” You snort, fiddling with a loose strand of fabric. “It’s not that easy, starting over, is it?”

“Never said it was.” Levi would know. It’s not like he’s here to preach the moral high ground. “But if you want that, you’re the only one that can make it happen.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just… hard. You know, when we were fighting titans, then humans, then nations… I just never considered who I would be after all of it. And when I found myself trying, I found I wasn’t the person I once was, that I couldn’t do what I would have done any more. You know?”

“Yeah.”

“Old me would have kept on going. Old me would have continued to heal people and traveled and helped Armin with peace negotiations. And I tried. Walls, I tried, Levi. But at the end of the day, I just find myself… tired. I’m just so tired.”

Something heavy fills Levi’s chest. He understands, to a degree, what you’re going through. He knew his role was over the moment that the fighting stopped, but for you, the war hasn’t stopped raging—conflicted on where your place should be.

“Sorry," you say, "I know I’m wallowing here, that I’m throwing my own pity party. But, shit, it’s hard, you know?”

“Yeah. But it’s fine, to wallow. No one expects you not to have setbacks.”

“You don’t mean that. Weren’t you always telling soldiers not to linger and look back? Besides, I don’t get to say any of this in front of you. Not with everything you went through.”

“Hey." Levi’s jaw clenches. "It’s not a competition.”

This time, he reaches for your hand and unclasps it, noticing you digging your nails into your skin. He forces you to squeeze his hand instead—only, now, you treat him with such care, not even applying pressure.

Levi takes it as his cue to drive his point home, “I only said what I said because a Scout’s life was a battlefield every day. But we’re not soldiers anymore.”

He sucks in a breath at those words; he realizes it’s the first time he acknowledges it out loud: We're not soldiers anymore. Levi's a hypocrite, saying these things, when he himself hasn’t let go completely. And yet, for your sake, he wants to pretend—he wants to pretend that there’s a way out for the both of you.

“So I’ve told you, the offer still stands," he adds. "You can stay here for as long as you want."

“Careful what you promise, Levi. I’m going to be a real burden to you.”

“Only when you don’t clean.”

Your weak snicker turns into laughter. It might be the most enchanting of sounds Levi’s heard in a long while.

Levi lets go of your hand, despite the fact that he wishes he could hold on, but he tells himself that friends don’t hold each other’s hands for prolonged moments. And that's what the two of you are. Friends.

“You know, when it came down to it… after months of introspection,” you say, voice soft, “all I knew is that I wanted to be near you.”

Oh.

“I stayed away for a year, thinking I could prove to myself, to you, that I wasn’t the needy person I once was," you say. "That I could, I don’t know, manage on my own. But all I got was… how much I missed you.”

Levi thinks his breathing might have stopped entirely.

“Levi, you’re… you’re important to me. You know that, right?” Your eyes find his own, glimmering under the moonlight. “I think… I just don’t want to not have you in my life anymore. Is that a strange thing to say?”

Levi is speechless. He stares at your lips, how plump and lovely they seem, glistening with moisture. He feels sweat on his back and he thinks perhaps he should act.

He forces his mouth to open but instead of words—

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

An explosion blasts in his ears.

Levi screws his eyes shut, bracing himself for the impact. There’s screams echoing in the back of his skull, bullets ricocheting against concrete. He smells the charred scent of bodies, sweet and off-putting.

But the fighting never comes. When he evens out his breathing, leaning his weight onto the bench, he notices—

You’re on the floor.

Your hands are covering your ears, your lower lip wobbling. You’re muttering things under your breath, things Levi can’t recognize, but there’s tears brimming the corner of your eyes, and Levi realizes then what happened.

You’re hyperventilating.

At once, Levi is by your side, bending down. The action causes his legs to scream in pain, but he promptly ignores it. He sees you and only you.

You, on the other hand, are unable to look at him, whimpering erratically.

“Hey,” Levi’s voice comes low and clear, trying to muster it all for you, “take a deep breath. It's not... it's not guns. Just fireworks some brats are playing with.”

But you seem unable to follow his advice, shaken as you are. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears clumping, streaming thick down the valleys of your cheeks. He sees your fingers pull at the strands of your hair.

Before he can think about it, his arms reach out of you, looping around the small of your back, where he draws you in. He presses you firmly against him. At first, you attempt to fight him back, muttering “no, no, no,” beneath your breath, but when Levi finally manages to smooth over your words with his own, you stop fighting.

Your head slumps down into the crest of his shoulder, like you were just a ragdoll gone limp. Levi tries to ignore the way his worry doubles down, and he does something he's only seen Hange do: comfort you.

“Adler, listen,” he says. “Your ear’s pressed against my heart right now. Do you hear my heartbeat?”

“Y-yeah,” you answer, voice barely a raw whisper. The sound is enough to shatter something in Levi. It’s so small, so fragile.

“Focus on it. Pretend that it’s the only sound to exist.”

You seem to attempt to laugh, but it comes across as another nervous sob, hiccups strangling your words. “S-someone thinks h-ighly of his v-voice.”

Levi just clicks his tongue, tightening his hold on you.

“I just can’t do it, ‘Vi… I just can’t.” Your warm lips, drenched with tears, move against his neck. “I’m fucking stuck and I feel so guilty there’s always noises in my brain…” A sob cracks out of you. “I’m so fucking lost.”

“But you’re not alone.”

Your breath falters.

“You’re not alone,” Levi repeats. His three-fingered hand weaves through the hair at the back of your skull, mingling between your locks. “Even if you feel lost right now.”

“I just—I don’t want to be a bother. I don't want to overstay my w-welcome.”

“You’re not. You can stay as long as you want.” Until you grow tired of me. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

You’re still hiccupping for air as you draw away from him. Your eyes gleam, staring at him. You seem to be searching for something, dazed and blurry.

“Y-you don’t mind?” you ask.

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

"I... I guess not."

For a while, neither Levi nor you say anything else. He watches as your eyes cast down, eyelashes still full of tears.  Eventually, your digits settle over his forearms, looking back at him with puffy eyes.

He offers you his clean handkerchief from his breast pocket. 

You take it with a crooked smile, staring down at the white cloth. “Thank you, Levi. I mean it.”

Levi looks away; he doesn't think he's done much.

“Walls.” You hiccup, lifting the handkerchief to your eyes. “I’ve made a scene, haven’t I? It’s the alcohol, I s-swear. I barely d-drink these days.”

“You were always a lightweight.”

“Pff, don’t remind me.”

“Well, judging by the brats walking towards us," he looks over your shoulders, "they’ve come to apologize.”

Sure enough, moments later, as you help Levi up and you both sit back down on the bench, three brats approach the scene with a look of apology plastered on their faces.

One of them, a boy with vibrant ginger hair, takes the lead. “Ma’am… are you alright?”

You sniffle, eyes still red. “Fine—”

“She’s not fine, brat,” Levi interjects. “Don’t light this shit up in public.”

The boy grimaces with the kind of juvenile innocence only kids can muster.

“Don’t listen to him,” you say, giving Levi a look. “But hey, do try to be careful, ‘kay? Don’t light up things like this all on your own. Fireworks are dangerous, not to mention they’re scary when they’re up so close.”

“I... I won't do it no more, ma’am…" the boy says. "I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s alright. You couldn’t have known.”

The boy nods before finally fleeting up and meeting Levi's glare. The child instantly cowers back.

“Mistakes happen," Levi grumbles with a softer tone. "Don't do it again.”

“Y-yeah, mister. Won’t happen again.”

"Good."

.

.

.

Erwin finds you in the stables one day. “Levi is integrating with my squad.”

You stop cleaning your horse, raising a brow at the man. “Is he now?”

“Mm." There's wistful amusement on Erwin's face. "He's started giving advice to his comrades.”

"Is that right?"

That night, when you greet Levi on the rooftop of the infirmary, you don't say a thing about this exchange, but you'll smile just a bit brighter at him anyway. 

.

.

.

Levi comes back from his evening shower to find something waiting for him in his bedroom. A piece of paper, carefully folded in three, is placed on his cabinet. Next to it is a medium-sized, black pouch.

He first unfolds the piece of paper, unsurprised to find that it’s a letter and that it’s from you.

Levi,
 You’ll excuse me for coming in without asking, but you insinuated I should make myself comfortable, so… Here I am. You know, if you're going to let me pay for things, then it’s decided: I’m going to bribe you with new tea! No, you can’t fight me on that. As you know, I’m a force of nature—unstoppable. Here’s a new blend for you. I know for certain you haven’t tried this one because it’s straight from my travels. I don’t know why I waited a week to give it to you, but I hope you like it.
 Your amazing new roomie,
 - A.

Levi’s lips twitch. He can picture you scribbling those words in your room, a grin on your face, waiting for him to take a shower just so you can place this handout in secret.

He briefly puts the letter back down, moving to open the gift. The black pouch hides a tea tin of simple design, with an etiquette that’s handwritten. White pu-erh tea. He slowly unscrews the sealed top, bringing it close to his nose to inhale its potent fragrant. Tea aromas, rich in citrus, fill his brain with a lovely buzzing effect. It smells nice, unlike anything he’s encountered before.

His eyes stray back to the letter, picking it back up. He loves the way you write his name, the way you loop the letters together. It's elegant.

With his heart just a bit lighter than usual, Levi adds your letter to the chest under his bed, filled with the rest of your correspondence.

( Next chapter / Join my taglist )

[giveafike]

One where Jude and his girlfriend/wife go for a swim and she‘s scared? Thanks!

TLDR: Wife!reader x JudeBellingham on holidays, but he doesn't know about your fears.

Word count + info: 2.3k! Blurb! Tiny bit of Spanish incorporated, some dialogue too : )

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! Mention of Thalassophobia + a panic attack, if that is a trigger, proceed w caution!! Otherwise, nothing more : ).

Azzie Notes ✚: HI!! First ever Jude ask here! I'm sorry it took me a while to get around to this req, anon! I hope I did it justice for you, I was struggling with writer's block for this prompt for some time, thinking how to flesh it out.

Also, I made a twitter ( @azziegivesafike !!) Feel free to follow and msg me about non requests there, I'll be posting life updates, story + req updates and spoilers/teasers alongside other things, so it'd be nice to have a community over there!

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Waves - J.B.

The sun hung high and lazily over the quiet Mediterranean countryside, casting long shadows on the rolling hills of olive trees and wildflowers. You and Jude had stolen away from the world, far from the roars and pressures, to a little coastal town where time felt like it had slowed down and life felt more gentle. Jude’s off-season was sacred, a time for just the two of you, to reconnect without the distractions of football, press, and the ever-present hum of expectations. No obligations. No noise. Just love.

It wasn’t out of character for Jude to plan some sort of surprise during your time together. Sometimes it was a romantic dinner; other times, it was a helicopter ride over a city. But this time, he had gone a step further, maybe even a step in the wrong direction.

You walked hand in hand down to the dock, the scent of saltwater thick in the air. Jude was rambling on, his voice bright with excitement. He had planned a surprise: a yacht, just for you two, to spend the day on the open sea. His voice lilted with that familiar Birmingham cadence, thick and warm like the breeze that carried your laughter.

“I’m tellin’ ya,” he said, his eyes glimmering as he spoke. “Pre-season training camp’s gonna be intense, but I’m already buzzin’ for it. New lads seem sound, and we’ve got a proper chance at the title this year.” His hand squeezed yours as you neared the marina, the glint of the water stretching endlessly ahead. “But none of that matters now. Today, it’s just you and me.”

You smiled at him weakly, though your heart had already started its familiar, uneasy thud in your chest. The yacht, sleek and pristine, bobbed gently on the water. All you could see was the endless expanse of ocean beyond, that shimmering surface stretching far beyond the horizon.

You had been trying to get better, to be better, to manage your fear. But this was a step far out of your comfort zone. You're not really sure what or when your fear of water had really sunk into you but all you could remember was that prickly, hot, sickly feeling when you stood near a deep pool or saw videos of massive waves engulfing everything around it. The anxiety is all too familiar, the numbness in your body taking over each time.

With Jude, you’d started dipping your feet into pools, sometimes even wading up to your hips, standing at the shallow end of Jude’s villa pool in Spain. But that had taken everything, deep breaths, quiet pep talks, and the promise that you were safe. It made you feel awful seeing Jude splash around, wide-smiled and unafraid, while you sat by, fearing you might accidentally fall into the pool if you dangled too far in. You felt as though you might even hold him back in that sense. You had convinced yourself that in this bubble with Jude and his quiet and still pool, you were secure and okay.

But here, staring at the open sea, none of that safety was present. Still, Jude’s excitement was infectious, his beaming smile too bright to dim with your fears, his big brown eyes shining. You bit your lip, your fingers twitching in his as your pulse began to race.

Jude caught up in his excitement had barely noticed. He was a great husband, always attentive but his excitement overcame was overcoming all his senses and thoughts.

“Just wait ‘til we’re out there,” he said as you boarded the yacht, the sun catching the sea in dazzling shards of light. “You’ll love it. The water’s clear, you can see the coral and fish. It’s so perfect. No one or nothing around, just us.”

You stepped aboard, the fabric of your sundress flowing in the salty breeze, trying to focus on his voice, his plans for the afternoon, his talk of peace and quiet. But as the boat moved further from the dock, the tether to the land slipped further from view, replaced by the endless, glassy water that stretched on all sides. The small town grew minuscule in the distance as if it was swallowed entirely by the rippling waves.

The boat stopped near a small private swimming spot, the crystal-clear water below revealing hints of vibrant coral and fish darting below the surface. You could see Jude’s eyes light up as he gazed down at the water, his joy palpable. He blabbered on about all sorts of fish he could see, how quick they were, how clear the water was; all of it wasted on your deaf ears as you tried to slow your breathing for the umpteenth time. You could barely nod along, but your heart now thundered in your chest, trying desperately to ground yourself in the conversation.

“Uh-huh, and what’s the coral like? Pretty?” you forced out, voice thin and tight.

Jude grinned, already pulling off his shirt, his skin gleaming in the sunlight. “Yeah, proper beautiful down there. You’ve gotta come in with me, babe. You’ll love it.” He gestured to the water as he stood on the edge of the boat, his excitement undiminished. “Look how clear it is!”

You gently rose and glanced down at the water, the clarity revealing the depths below, a whole world of coral, fish, and sand. Your breath caught.

How far down does it go? What’s lurking beyond what you can see?

The distance between you and the ocean floor felt infinite as you stood a few steps from the edge, a chasm of the unknown. You tried to distract yourself, to hold onto the sound of Jude’s voice.

“I think I’ll stay here,” you called back, your voice small, like it might shatter if you pushed too hard. “I’m good on the boat.”

But Jude had already dived in, his sleek form cutting through the water, disappearing for a moment before resurfacing with a joyful whoop. He tread water effortlessly, his laughter echoing across the calm sea. “Babe, you’ve gotta feel this, it’s like bathwater! Perfect day for a swim!”

Your stomach churned as you watched him, so comfortable in a place that made you feel so small. The water cradled him, bright and blue and endless, while you stood on the deck, now tiptoeing towards the edge, gripping the railing like it was your last anchor to safety. Your knuckles were white and your hands clammy as you peered down. The gentle sway of the boat beneath your feet seemed to pull you toward the water, a slow, inevitable tug that made your head spin. It was almost as though it was mocking you, the waves teasing you, the fish swimming in hypnotic patterns to try to pull you to them, the gentle waves hitting the boat as a threat; it was far too much stimulation.

Your thoughts became your enemies. That clear water, once serene, now felt like a mouth, gaping wide, ready to swallow you whole.

It’s so deep. The ground’s gone. You’re so far from land.

You tried to push the thoughts away, focusing on the warmth of the sun, the distant cry of a seagull. But the waves inside your head began to build, crashing over your mind in relentless surges.

Your pulse skyrocketed, your heart pounding like a drum inside your chest, each beat louder, more frantic. Your breath quickened, short, gasping. The air around you thinned, each inhale shallower than the last. You felt that bundle of knots twisting painfully, feeling sickly and disgusting inside, the feeling of sweat prickling against your skin, tears burning your eyes. The sounds around you went mute as your ears rung loud; you knew full well what was coming.

The boat, once a place of peace, now felt like it was moving beneath you, rocking harder, tipping you toward the water. Your grip on the railing tightened, your knuckles bone white, but the world blurred as though the sun itself had turned against you. It was too bright. The horizon was too far. Everything spun as if the boat was dissolving into the sea.

“Jude...” The word barely left your throat, choking on the tightness that had coiled around your chest. When you moved, your legs gave way, useless, wobbling like they no longer belonged to you.

You’re going to fall if you stay standing here. You’re going to drown.

Panic seized you.

It crashed into you like a tidal wave, slamming you against the rail, knocking the breath from your lungs. You staggered, your knees giving out, collapsing onto the deck, falling onto the small step rather than off the boat. Your chest heaved as you gasped for air that wouldn’t come, the world shrinking to nothing but the wild, frantic roar inside your own head. The sensation was like drowning, without ever touching the water. You crawled and wobbled to the sunbed, digging your nails as you landed your hands on it. Your limbs were heavy and useless like they were trapped under an invisible current, the weight of it pulling you under.

Your cries felt muffled, swallowed by the sea of your mind. The world spun violently. Your vision blurred, darkening at the edges as your throat burned, air refusing to fill your lungs. The boat swayed, or maybe it was just you, thrown again and again against an invisible tide, your body curling in on itself. Your hair stuck to your face, tangled, distorting your vision as if the water had already risen up to surround you. You could feel it, cold, wet, suffocating, pressing in from all sides. Your limbs felt like dead weight, too heavy to move, too weak to fight.

You were drowning. Drowning on dry land.

The harder you fought to breathe, the more your chest constricted, the pressure unbearable, your vision narrowing to nothing but the dark tunnel in front of you. You couldn’t see. Couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe. The sound of your own gasps filled your ears, and the world dissolved into nothing but the relentless, terrifying roar of the panic gripping you.

Jude’s laughter stopped, his voice barely piercing through.

“Babe?”

His voice felt so distant, a muffled echo in the chaos of your mind. You barely registered the splash of water as he pulled himself back onto the boat, the pounding of his footsteps as he rushed toward you.

“Hey, hey, love, I’m here. I’m right here.”

His hands found your face, cupping your cheeks with the warmth you desperately needed. His voice, once carefree, was now a steady anchor in the storm thrashing through you. He wiped away the tears you hadn’t even realised were falling, his thumb brushing your skin with gentle strokes.

“Shh, it’s okay, cariño. You’re okay. Breathe with me, yeah? Just breathe.” His forehead pressed gently against yours, grounding you, bringing you back to something real.

Your lungs ached, your chest still tight, but you fought to follow his words.

Breathe. Just breathe.

You struggled to match the slow, steady rhythm of his breath. His chest rose and fell against yours, a steady, calming presence. Slowly, painfully, your breath began to slow, the sobs leaving your mouth, the grip around your lungs loosening little by little.

“Eso es, my love,” he murmured, his lips brushing soft kisses across your forehead, through your hair. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.” His hands stayed steady on your face, never leaving, his voice a constant, unwavering presence, pulling you back from the edge. He swept your hair back, away from your face, rubbing circles on your back.

“I-I didn’t know that you were scared of- well I-,” he whispered, the guilt heavy in his voice. “I wish I had known. I should’ve known. God, I would never put you through something like this,” His voice cracked, and he hugged her tightly, pulling her against him, his arms wrapping around her like a shield. “I didn’t see it. I really didn't know. I’m so sorry, cariño. I should’ve seen it.”

She let out a shaky breath, her body still trembling, but the worst of the panic had ebbed, her head resting against his shoulder, safe in the circle of his arms. She could feel the regret and sadness in every breath he took, his chest rising and falling with the weight of it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I never knew how...” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to ruin it for you, you were so excited, Jude.”

“You could never ruin anything for me,” he said softly, his lips brushing her temple. “Never. If I’d known, I would’ve never brought you out here, love. I’m such an idiot.” He kissed the top of her head, squeezing her tighter. “I should’ve realised. I was too caught up in everything…”

For a long moment, they stayed like that, her breathing finally steady, the calm returning as she clung to him, his solid, comforting presence pulling her back to herself. He kept whispering soft reassurances, holding her close until the panic had all but faded, replaced with the warmth of his embrace.

After a while, Jude pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and spoke softly. “I’m taking us back to land. Somewhere small, quiet, just us. Somewhere with your feet on solid ground, yeah?”

She nodded, breaking a small smile while tears still clung to her lashes, but she felt safe. “Somewhere dry would be nice.”

He smiled, kissing her one last time before getting up. “No more surprises, I promise. There's a little village close by, waiting for just the two of us.”

As the yacht turned back toward land, the pier coming into view in the distance, she knew that with Jude by her side, she could face anything.

[qqueenofhades]

I KNOW he’s gonna find a way to worm his way out of it like the Worlds Biggest Bitch Baby that he is but… the thought of watching our future president absolutely eviscerate that orange sack of pond scum in a debate on national television make me feel indescribable joy. The mere thought of it makes me feel A L I V E.

I hope that if he refuses to debate her, she still stands up there by herself, looks directly into the camera and lists all the ways he’s a Scaredy Little Punk Ass Bitch.

Listen, Democrats might still have some understandable nerves (though listen to me, LISTEN TO ME: this is NOT THE TIME FOR MORE PANIC, THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO TALK ABOUT HOW SCARY THIS IS, WE KNOW! WE KNOW! THIS IS THE TIME TO GET TF IN FORMATION AND DO YOUR GODDAMN JOB!) but let me say this, the Republicans are LOSING it. They put ALL their chips on facing Sleepy Old Joe who don't talk so good anymore, and suddenly they have a 59-year-old lawyer and prosecutor who literally spent her whole elected career going after sex pests, frauds, and felons. (We remember how she made Brett Kavanaugh fucking cry at his confirmation hearing, right?) And suddenly, they have to bring it against Kamala. GODSPEED, DIPSHITS.

So yes, Trump is already whining SO hard about all the money they "wasted" going after Biden, laying the groundwork to escape getting his ass handed to him at the next debate, got stuck with a terriblawful VP pick (even Fucking FOX NEWS cut away from Vance's rally the other day because it was so boring) and suddenly realizing that he spent so much effort to make this election about age and mental competency when... now it's him. WHAT NOW, FUCKFACES. WHAT. NOW.

I'd also like to point out that abortion rights are going to be a HUGE issue, they have won everywhere they have been on the ballot (including in very red states) post-Dobbs, they will be on the ballot in several more important states (including Fucking Florida, not that I actually think we'll win there), and Kamala has a great record as a defender of reproductive freedom. Biden did his best, bless him, but sometimes the Old Catholic Man still leaped out. So the absolute fucking schadenfreude of having a black female president BEAT TRUMP IN A POST-DOBBS ELECTION??? MAGNIFICENT.

(As @silverbirching says: we wonder how many minutes it will take SCOTUS to row back the "president god-king" ruling if Kamala wins. We're guessing 15. That is, if Joe does not finally just embrace the fact that presidents are immune AND he is leaving office, and send Alito, Thomas, and Kav on a "special indefinite vacation" as an inauguration present.)

I am not overconfident. I know this is unprecedented. I know we don't have much time, and how hard this will be. This is not 2016 or 2020, and we all have to do the work and not let up. But if the Handmaid's Tale party is literally now trying to make "Kamala doesn't have children because she's an Evul Feminist" into their main line of attack, all I say is, Please proceed, chucklefucks. I'm sure that will go great.

[naamahdarling]

I am not happy about these waves of panic threatening to flare up.

I am a huge fan of Klonopin/other benzodiazepines as rescue meds. But I CANNOT take them too often because they do seem to cause a specific kind of anxiety, distinct from whatever is up with the panic attacks, as a rebound effect, and since I don't use them often, I can feel a little hung over if I take a strong dose.

That combined with the fact that panic attacks just naturally cluster, with or especially without meds, and I'm having a hard time controlling where I'm at.

It's draining.

I'm staying up for an extra long time to try to work my schedule back around, and it does not feel good, but I'm already not going to feel good, so why not stack the shitty but bearable things and fuck up a couple of days and not the rest of the week?

IDK. I'm...I got really badly triggered a while back and then again Sunday night, and right now I don't see how it ends until things are less terrifying. The way people casually talk doesn't help. It actually is harmful, y'all, the constant "we're doomed", "we're all gonna die." It just makes things worse and I wish people would find other ways to express that.

It just fosters the idea that we might as well give up, and feeds anxiety.

I have had to blacklist a lot, and avoid looking too closely at most sites, but Tumblr doesn't just hide or cover posts with blocked words, it tells you what the words were, in prominent blue text. Like. Maybe they could fix that.

IDK. I wish things were different. I was doing kind of okay until Sunday. Hopefully I'll bounce back.

I'm rambling. I'm going to listen to Murderbot and play stupid phone games and try to nap. Everything is hard. I don't hate it here, but things could be a little easier.

[thatwritterbeach]

One messed up bat pt.1

Dc masterlist all other parts found here

Batfam x femreader Jason x reader eventually

Warnings: angst, self harm, self hate, depression,

Summary:Y/n gets caught self harming by Damian, and Tim calls in some backup

A/N: I do not own dc booohooo ooc Tim, I don't spend much time watching/reading his robin sorry **^ so I can't remember if it's canon or from a fic but at this point who cares the storyline is all fucked so in this story I'm saying that Jason tried to call dick for help with his mom but dick was asleep/didn't pick up so Jay went alone and died, now Dick CAN NOT miss a phone call it sends him into a panic attack, thank you for coming to my trauma talk

ok so we all know the timeline is shit so this is the ages for this story only found it on a reddit post, fight me at dawn if you don't like it

Bruce Wayne (Batman) at 45

Barbara Gordon (Oracle) at 27

Dick Grayson (Nightwing) at 25

Jason Todd (Red Hood) at 22

Tim Drake (Red Robin) at 18

Damian Wayne (Robin) at 11

Y/n 21

not my gif^

(2 weeks ago)

"Y/n, you can't keep acting like a child you're twenty-one," Dick whisper shouted in the corner of the batcave.

"Dick, I'm not going to apologize for helping people-"

"You disobeyed a direct order. You could have been hurt, you can't be that kind of influence to Tim and Damian."

"You don't even live here, Dick, you can't just-"

"You're benched until further notice."

"You can't-"

"Benched," Bruce confirmed stepping over to them.

(1 week ago)

"Hey, Dick, do you have a sec," she asked into the phone then immediately bit firmly into her hand to hold back a sob.

"You're still benched," he said without remorse.

"That's not-you know what never mind." She hung up on him and threw the phone onto her bed heading to her en-suite bathroom to release the itch.

(present)

"Beloved! Beloved, look I-," Damian shouted with glee but cut himself off with a scream when he opened her unlocked bathroom door. He thought she was doing her face masks not...in the bathtub with blood dripping from her arms into pink bubble filled water.

"Damian wait," she called after his retreating form. Shit, shit. She hurried to drain the water and throw on her over sized t-shirt just managing to pull some boxers on when Damian burst back in with Tim, practically dragging him into the space.

"Damian what's the problem-"

"Fix her," he shouted with haste and was about to shove Tim into the room when he noticed y/n standing there looking fine.

"Damian, I'm ok, I promise," she tried to convince him softly. He looked from her to the tub, not even a drop of evidence in sight.

"No, you-I saw the blood. Tim she cut herself I saw it," he told the older boy trying to lunge for her arm but she side stepped him.

"Damian, give us a minute," Tim tried to gently shoo him away. Damian shook his head aggressively and latched himself onto her side, clinging to her like a koala. She combed her fingers through his hair and gently detangled him.

"Dami, Tim and I just need to have a quick chat, he's gonna fix me right up, aren't you, Tim," she asked, sending him a look that clearly gave direction.

"Yeah, kid, I'll take care of her, she'll be right as rain."

"You won't hurt yourself again?" He was giving her puppy eyes, looking his own age for once and it pulled on her heart strings.

"I won't," she agreed patting him on the head and crossing her fingers behind her back with the other hand. Damian gave her one last hug then hurried out of the room. There was an awkward silence as Tim stood blocking the doorway, his jaw ticking and toe nearly tapping.

"You know I have to tell."

"Please don't." She shook her head then grabbed the first aid kit beneath the sink.

"Let me," he said softly, taking it from her and getting out the supplies. When she set her arm on the counter for him to work he sucked in a breath. "Those are deep," he accused.

"I wasn't trying anything. I'm not stupid, just a heavy bleeder." She rolled her eyes where he couldn't see and hissed when he dumped alcohol on her arm.

"They almost need stitches."

"Butterfly stickers are fine," she said digging them out of the kit one handed.

"I at least have to tell Dick-"

"NO," she said so firm he actually stepped back to look at her.

"I have to tell someone, I can't watch you 24/7."

"I don't need babysat," she seethed.

"I can tell Bruce or I can tell Dick first. Either way you aren't doing this alone."

"I cant stop you?"

"Not a chance."

"Dick told me I needed to be a better influence for you. Sorry for fucking that up, but to be fair there's worse things about me. I tried to call him a week ago, I was feeling the um...the 'itch' so to speak but as soon as he picked up he told me I was still benched. I was so pissed that he immediately thought that's what I called for I told him never mind and hung up. You can't tell him that, after Jason you know he-"

"Hates missing phone calls," Tim finished for her. **^

Tim had every intention of telling him, he knew it would hurt but come on, she tried to get help. Of course she didn't ask anyone in the house, but he wasn't about to be offended she didn't ask the child or his newly adult self for help, and he sure as hell got the not wanting to tell Bruce.

"Why not Alfred?"

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you go to Alfred for help."

"He deals with enough shit from the rest of you, coming in half dead each night."

"That doesn't mean you come second, and sure as hell not last, we love you."

"Yeah, well it doesn't feel like it most of the time." He was finished with her arm and she resisted the urge to yank it away from him. One of Jason's flannel was on a towel hook on the wall and she quickly put it on to hide the bandages.

"I'm gonna go make sure Dami's ok," she said gently moving him out of the way. The second she was gone he hurried back to his room for his phone, that he'd left on the charger and yanked the cord out. He hit speed dial 3, Dick's cell, and held the phone to his ear while he headed out on his balcony to totally not scale down the wall instead of taking the stairs. Dick picked up on the 4th ring with a tired sigh and a 'this better be good' Tim told him to wait a sec while he got way out of hearing range.

"Did Y/n call you last week?"

"Uh, yeah, why?"

"Did you jump her case and not give her a second to speak?"

"You sound a bit pissed timbers, cut to it and tell me what I did. I haven't slept in 37 and a half hours."

"And you call me an idiot," he snorted.

"Tick tock bro," Dick mumbled head already sinking into his pillow.

"She'd been cutting herself and she called you to ask for help, well, she didn't say that word, but she was calling to tell you what she'd been doing to herself," Tim stated with little to no remorse for the heart attack he'd just given his brother.

"She what," Dick shouted throwing off the blankets and grabbing his go bag.

"I assume you'll catch the next train?" The sound of Dick falling and cursing while he hopped into pants could be heard and Tim nodded and hung up. Thankfully because the author said so Dick had switched from his police job to a remote roll in Wayne industries he just stayed in Bludhaven to have his independence and not deal with Bruce more than he had to. Alfred insisted he come for monthly dinners and he did.

Tim went back inside to hunt for Y/n and Damian and found them having mugs of hot chocolate together on the kitchen counter.

"So, you're ok," Damian asked in a small voice using a stir stick to hold his marshmallows under the liquid.

"I told you, Tim fixed me, and he probably ran off to call Dick so he could come make double sure I'm ok. You don't need to worry, I promise I'll always be here to have hot cocoa with," she replied, crossing her heart and holding out her pinkie to him. He hooks his with hers and to her surprise continued to hold on, not moving to actually hold her hand but simply letting their hands rest on the counter pinkies linked. Not wanting to interrupt Tim quietly made his way back out, he still had some calls to make.

Jason picked didn't pick up on the first call, or the second but finally on the third he answered out of breath and with gunshots loud in the foreground.

"The hell dya' want," he all but shouted into the line dodging hits and getting in several of his own.

"Sorry, I'll call back later-"

"No, talk now, I got it under *way too loud thud* control."

"Just uh, get here as quick as you can, nobodies dying so-"

"Make it quick but don't freak, got it." And he hung up. Next was Bruce who surprise surprise didn't answer a call or text, so Tim left a message.

"Get off Selena and come help your kid," he said with more aggression than snark. (this doesn't feel at all like something Tim would say but i'm not familiar enough with his character to fix it)

This time when he went to the kitchen it was just Y/n on the counter Damian had gone who knows where.

"So who all did you tell?"

"Just Dick so far, he's on his way. Jason was in the middle of a fight so he's coming later but I didn't tell him and Bruce didn't pick up-"

"Shocker, dude nabs all these kids then can't be bothered to spend time with them outside of a Halloween costume," she scoffed rolling her eyes.

"You're not wrong but-"

"Oh, don't start Stan." She waved him off hopping down to wash the mugs not willing to leave them for Alfred.

9-20-24

[staybabblingbaby]

Fan Experience with SKZ a2d3 (+ 1,652 words Addition)

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: You hadn't expected to win the opportunity to have a dinner with Stray Kids for you and a friend from a gimmicky raffle meant to sell more albums. But you have. And now you have to meet you idols and try not to completely fall apart in the process. (or: I miss those weird old sweepstakes to hang out with random celebrities and go on shopping sprees with someone else's money from early 2000s infomercial television. So I made SKZ do one. kinda.)

Word Count: 3,051

Notes: Listen. I know she's not what everyone was hoping for, but she's what I've got, ok? I read this fic by @staylovesmiley and I got so delulu about it that I started working on this one again. It's literally not my fault. Also, I literally wrote this and posted it with no, like, revisions. Cos it's still a rough draft. Feel free to tell me if you spot mistakes tho.

Warnings: Reader has an anxiety/panic attack (twice, kind of? One is really just being dramatic about nerves the second was a genuine panic)

Masterlist

"I can't do this." you whine pathetically, “I’m literally going to throw up.”

Ha-Yun, your best friend and the sacrifice you'd dragged along to be your emotional support to this fan opportunity, wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder.

"You're doing it." she says firmly, “and you’re not allowed to throw up. These are my nice shoes.”

Maybe the arm wasn't a comfort after all, maybe you were her captive now. Turnabout is fair play, you suppose.

"We're already here, and the guard has already left to get someone. It's too late to back out now." She add, infuriatingly reasonable. She’s made several good points, but the day you admit that is the day you marry her. Unfortunately for lesbians everywhere, Ha-Yun happened to be very straight.

"You don't know that!" You insist, "We could run right back out the doors- just poof! Gone." You speak like some sort of madness had taken over you, waving your hands around to illustrate your (admittedly, a bit insane) point. Quite honestly, it probably had.

Ha-Yun turns to face you properly now. She knows you well enough to know that you were genuinely freaking out, no matter how silly you were about it. She gives you a sympathetic smile, and tugs you closer. Presumably to keep you from running off (and maybe to actually comfort you. Maybe).

"It'll be fine. You adore those boys. Just be chill and respectful and it'll all go well." Once again, Ha-Yun appeals to your greater reason. Too bad you weren't feeling very reasonable at the moment.

You turn yourself to hide your face in her neck and make a sound not dissimilar to a boiling kettle.

"What if they hate me?" You desperately question, "What if they think I'm weird, or ugly, or annoying, or- or- or!" You trail off breathlessly, on the verge of hyperventilating, and feel Ha-Yun gently pat your head.

She makes soft seal noises to mock you and then says, "Well if they do its not like you'll ever know."

Another keening whine leaves you as you slide down to crouch on the floor, arms sliding down with you to wrap around Ha-Yun's knees. She stumbles a bit, but regains her balance by using your head as a cane. She lets you stay there, blessed saint that she is, and continues to speak, wretched devil that she is.

"I mean, really, they're not gonna tell you to your face, and you're not gonna see them again after today." She points out.

You'd like to argue, but it's not like she's wrong.

You'd ended up couched on the floor of the JYPE building, clutching your best friend's pant leg, on a random Tuesday, about to meet Stray Kids AND eat dinner with them, by pure dumb luck. Actual, literal, luck. Like, won-a-raffle sort of luck. You may as well have won the lottery for everything this opportunity means to you.

Once-in-a-lifetime was an understatement.

"Just have fun with it," Ha-Yun finishes her pep-talk, heedless of your internal (and external) freak-out.

"I think I'll die, actually." You mutter petulantly into her thigh.

She snorts at you, ruffling your hair aggressively and disregarding your half-hearted attempts to swipe at her for it.

"C'mon, what happened to the person who was bouncing off the walls excited about this?" She cajoles, shaking you around but not dislodging you.

When she says bouncing off the walls, she means it. When you’d received the email and confirmed your attendance, you’re pretty sure you invented new parkour moves with the case of zoomies you’d gotten in your euphoric excitement. You’d gotten a noise complaint about it.

Still, that joy had abandoned you now.

"They're dead and buried." You deadpan. It wasn’t like you weren't excited, really! You’d been looking forward to this for weeks now. For all your dramatics, Bangchan himself probably couldn’t peel you from this floor and make you leave. You’d become a permanent mark on the lobby floor of JYPE before you missed this.

You were just going to perish from sheer anxiety, that was all. Could anyone really blame you? You were about to meet your idols. It was kind of a big deal!

Ha-Yun does nothing but pat your head twice. "Well unbury them," She commands, "the guard is coming back."

Your head snaps up to see not only the beefy security guard who'd checked both of your I.Ds and passes with great suspicion a few minutes ago, but also the Bang Christopher Chan, come to peel you off the floor.

Your brain stalls for a second, seeing him dressed head-to-toe in casual black, barefaced and smiling beautifully at you. And then you realize the position you're in and scramble to stand properly, far too late for either of them to have missed your bout of insanity.

You attempt to slide yourself behind Ha-Yun in your humiliation, but the cruel woman snags your elbow with one hand, and your opposite shoulder with the other, and holds you in place in front of her.

You take back anything nice you've ever said about Ha-Yun, she's an evil witch and she’s out to get you.

Before you can panic too hard, Bangchan and the security guard come to a stop in front of you.

Though Bangchan is all warm eyes and kind smiles, you can't help but feel small in front of him. You shrink back into Ha-Yun, but she doesn't allow you to retreat. You promise to yourself to only cook foods she doesn't like for a whole month when this is over.

"Hi, it’s so good to meet you!" Bangchan greets cheerfully. You do your best to match his smile despite your fear and return his greeting (only after Ha-Yun subtly elbows you to take the lead, refusing you your right to silence), introducing yourself as the fan who’d won the raffle before motioning to Ha-Yun, who was still holding you hostage.

"And this is Ha-Yun, she's my emotional support human today." You're extremely jealous she's as functional as she is as she both bows respectfully and shakes Bangchan's hand, prompting you to do the same.

This was one of the many reasons you'd chosen to bring her over any of your friends who were actually Stray Kids fans. Functional emotional support summed her up nicely.

As greetings wrap up, Ha-Yun turns to you with mischief in her eyes. You glare right back as she begins to dramatically interrogate you.

"Is emotional support all I am to you?" She demands, "I thought we were more than that! I thought we had something special!" She places a hand over her heart as you'd shot her, dipping back way too far in her dramatics because she knows your hand will catch her whether you want it to or not.

Supporting most of her weight with your fist dug into her upper back, you retort, "You thought wrong."

Bangchan's snicker reminds you of your audience and you tuck your hands behind your back with an embarrassed flush. Ha-Yun stumbles at the sudden lack of support, and is treated to a heated glare when all she does is laugh at you. You may as well have been air for all it affects her.

Two months. No yummy home cooked meals for Ha-Yun. You swore it.

Bangchan begins to speak and your attention is immediately back on him instead of your comedy act of a best friend.

"So, the company actually picked out the place for dinner, so we don't get to choose, sorry." And he really does seem apologetic, despite this seeming like a very reasonable thing to you. "It's this barbecue place down the road, we'll be meeting the others there, if that's alright?"

Again he asks like he genuinely values your opinion in this, and the prospect of being in even one (1) of this man's thoughts as an individual causes you a bit of a crisis.

Luckily, this is exactly what you'd bright Ha-Yun along for, and she easily agrees for the two of you while you malfunction, guiding you along with the experience of having born witness to more than one blue-screen brain moment in your life.

She strikes up an easy conversation with Bangchan as he leads the three of you deeper into the building towards a different door, leaving the security guard behind, the man cheerfully explaining that you’d be making your way to the building’s underground parking garage where a car was already waiting for you.

You're a bit jealous of Ha-Yun’s comfort and ability to talk to strangers. Even famous ones. You sort of feel like you're simultaneously walking on air and suffocating on that same air, but she keeps conversation light and steady, the mood easy and comfortable even as you stew in anxious silence.

Still, she keeps her hand on your back to keep you walking and rubs little comforting circles there. So. She's forgiven. Only a little bit. Back down to one month of no yummies.

The journey is short, and you don’t get to see much of the company, but Bangchan catches you looking around curiously as you walk, and generously explains the types of rooms and offices you walk past like some sort of tour guide. In fact, he apologizes for not being able to give you a more thorough tour and you frantically assure him that this was more than you'd ever expected in the first place.

You don't catch the pleased look he has as you crawl out of your shell a bit to ask him more questions, but Ha‐Yun shoots him a grateful look over your head. You don’t see the tiny nod they share, but the two reach an understanding over your oblivious head.

Cute, precious dongsaengs were to be protected.

Surprisingly, and relievingly to your poor, anxious, mind, there’s not much in the way of staff or cameras during the ride to the restaurant.

It’s actually Bangchan himself who climbs into the driver’s seat, and the only cameras you spot are small unmanned ones strapped to the dash and seats.

In the terms and conditions you’d signed when you’d entered the raffle in the first place you’d agreed to being filmed for content. At the time you hadn’t thought anything of it, thinking you couldn’t possibly win in the first place. After all, you were no GOM or fansite, nor rich enough to buy multiple sets of the album that bought you your chance to win.

And yet, here you were. Your one measly entry and a fuckton of luck later.

So yeah, you hadn’t really thought twice to agreeing to being filmed in the event that you won. You still hadn’t thought much of it until JYPE had sent another, more thorough release form, granting them the right to profit off of the content filmed today. Then it had felt more real.

You make your way over to the car, a subtle thing painted black and with tinted windows, and Ha-Yun practically shoves you into the passenger side door when you instinctively reach for the back. You toss her a wounded pout, but she just rolls her eyes at you and climbs in, settling in the middle of the back seat.

You get the hint and sheepishly slide into the passenger seat, giving Bangchan an awkward half bow when your eyes meet. He just offers you a dimpled grin in return.

He must clock you giving the cameras a weary glance as you buckle in, because he taps the one on the dash before starting to pull out.

“They like these things to be natural,” He begins explaining, voice warm and kind, “So don’t worry too much about the cameras. Try to forget about them, if you can.”

You don’t think you can, especially since there’s a little blinking red light on top indicating that they’re already recording, but you’ll try. For Chan.

“I’ll start making a fool of myself the second I forget.” You joke, letting your tone go whiny with complaint.

Ha-Yun pulls lightly at your hair from the back seat, sniggering as she says, “You’d do that regardless.”

You complain loudly and reach back to slap at her, but Bangchan puts a hand on your shoulder and gently turns you back toward the front before you can turn far enough.

“Don’t turn around wile we’re moving,” he commands softly, “It’s dangerous.”

You just nod dumbly, earning yourself another smile, and make eye contact with Ha-Yun in the rearview mirror. She smirks knowingly at you, but you find yourself too flustered to glare properly. You scrunch up your nose at her instead, thanking every available deity that you weren’t the type to blush very visibly.

Ha-Yun, glorious holy angel that she is, changes the subject.

“I thought they were supposed to get our first reactions to meeting y’all on camera?”

“Ah, yeah,” Chan laughs sheepishly, “It was actually a manager that was supposed to pick you up, but I was running behind at the company anyway, so I asked if I could. They’ll probably grab security cam footage or something for our meeting.” He glances at me from the corner of his eyes, amusement playing on his face.

“Besides, it looked like you guys had a bit of a comedy routine going on, so they’ll definitely want to add that in.”

You groan your anguish aloud to the world, sinking low in your seat and covering your face. Ha-Yun howls like the hyena she truly is in the back seat.

“Kill me now, it’d be kinder.” You lament. Chan pats your thigh consolingly.

“No can do.”

The three of you chat lightly for the rest of the drive, ice absolutely pulverized in the wake of your humiliation. Chan briefly warns you that there will be more cameras and actual staff present at the restaurant, and you get the impression that perhaps this is why he’d chosen to be your chauffer. To warm you up, ease you in before you were blindsided by a professional camera crew.

You don’t say anything, but a shared glance with Ha-Yun in the rearview reveals that she feels the same.

God, kindness is SO unfairly attractive.

The drive really is quite short, the distance a 30 minute walk at most. You still manage to absolutely jam out to a song or two when Chan catches you lightly singing along to the radio under your breath. He just quietly turns up the volume, and soon enough you’re treated to live Bangchan karaoke, and find yourself almost too entranced to remember to sing yourself.

But you pull up to the restaurant all too quickly, parking around the back of a quaint and homely looking barbecue place, and suddenly remember how nervous you are.

You are absolutely going to puke all over Ha-Yun’s nice shoes.

You slowly clamber out of the car, any semblance of grace leaving you as you stare at the door to the restaurant like it’s going to eat you. Ha-Yun sidles up beside you, sliding her hand into yours. She doesn’t flinch when you squeeze her hand, merely squeezing back, even though you know your grip is tight enough to leave nail marks in her skin.

Bangchan is saying something to you as he gets out of the car himself, something about how he promises the food is good and that he and the kids come here fairly often, but you barely hear a word over the blood rushing in your ears.

“I’m gonna be sick.” You murmur to Ha-Yun, much more serious than you were at the company building, what with the nervous battering at your stomach like a siege.

Ha-Yun just gently uncurls your hand from around your stomach, leaving an echo of ache where you hadn’t realized your fingers had been digging into your own flash with a white-knuckled grip. Her hand slides down so she’s holding both of yours, and turns you to face her.

Ha-Yun rests her forehead on yours and takes an exaggerated breath in. You copy her on instinct, the motions familiar, and are gifted with a headrush and a sudden ringing in your ears as you take in air you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.

She guides you through a few more breaths, and you realize Bangchan had gone silent somewhere along the way, if he had even stuck around to bear witness. You can only spare him a half-second of thought though, through the effort of keeping yourself together.

Ha-Yun is very good at holding your pieces in place while you stitch up your seams.

“You’ve got this,” she reassures in a soft voice, only barely heard above the static in your head, “Everything will be fine. It’s just dinner. They’re just guys. I’ll be there the whole time. You’re not alone. I’ve got you. Everything will be fine.”

It’s not the words themselves that calm you, really. It never is. You can barely hear them, anyway, even as your heartrate starts returning to baseline.

Ha-Yun just has this way of sounding so sure. So soft and calm and in control. She could tell you the sky is green right now and you’d just nod along. It’s exactly what you need to trick your nervous system out of fight-or-flight, and you slowly settle back into your skin.

“It’s okay,” you assure, not certain if you’re speaking to her or yourself, “I’m okay. I’ve got this.”

“Yeah you do!” She affirms in a hushed cheer. You squeeze her hands again, mindful of the pressure this time. She squeezes back, and gently bonks her head against yours as she leans away.

Suddenly, the bubble pops, and you can see the world again. Chan is a few meters away, on the other side of the car, very conspicuously not looking in your direction. The restaurant hasn’t moved or changed in any way, but it no longer looks like a creature out to kill you.

You lock eyes with Chan when he finally glances in your direction and offer him a tense smile. He offers an easier one back, and waves you over.

“Ready to go in?” He asks, like nothing at all had happened. Somehow, you find that reassuring.

“Yeah,” you nod, glancing at the restaurant and the, at Ha-Yun, who gives a tiny encouraging nod, “I’m ready.”

The 'Everything Always' Tag List (aka tagging for progress stuff too): @chancloud8 , @sh0dor1 , @thatgirlangelb

AN: I know you begged for a return of this one, Sho, so merry Christmas ig xD

[luvserie]

Hey pookie 😋 I was wondering if you could write SKZ reacting to the reader being indecisive about what to wear to a party? 😝 THANK YOU

hihiii 😁

Ofc lovely 💖 I only did hyung line because I got lazy(EDIT: Y'all I am so sorry I haven't been posting...like at all. I lowkey forgot abt this account but here's a new piece! I tried my best to portray a panic attack in Lee Know's, but I'm always open to feedback and suggestions! 🥰)

WARNINGS: AFAB! Reader, a lil bit of angsty and fluffy content. Swearing too! Also, I made the reader taller than Changbin(by like 2in) cuz...I like tall women 💕☂️🦋 In Hyunjin's y'all have a kid, so...yeah. Reader talks abt pregnancy time.

SKZ Reactions: Reader Doesn’t Know What to Wear

Bang Chan

Chan sighed as you walked out of the closet, looked in the mirror, wrinkled your nose and went back in to find yet another dress. “Angel, you look lovely. And we’re thirty minutes late.” Chan said through the closet door. You came out in another outfit, this one baby blue. Chan was sure he’d know the whole rainbow by the time you guys exited the house. “What do you think?” You asked. “Amazing, now come on.” Chan gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the room, but you pulled back. “You didn’t even look!” You say accusingly. “I’m changing.” Chan grabs your wrist again before you can slither back to the mess he knows you’ve made in your closet. “Angel, Princess, love of my life.” He squishes your face in his hands. “You. Are. Lovely. And you look great in whatever you wear. So why is it so hard for you to choose between the same six options?” You hesitate, but Chan’s tilted head and sugar-sweet voice melt your resolve like butter on a very hot pan. “I don’t know. I think I actually liked the first one I tried on.” “Good. So you’re gonna go in that closet and come out in that gorgeous red dress. I’m gonna tell your friends we aren’t coming and we’re just gonna order takeout.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“That sounds nice.”

Lee Know

Dinner was ready, the candles were lit, the table was set. All that was left was, well, you.

You felt awful. Your boyfriend had planned the sweetest day trip for you two to celebrate your guys’ anniversary followed by a home cooked meal, and your anxiety was fucking with it all. “Jagiya? You okay in there?” Minho’s voice came through the door. “Fuck.” You cursed under your breath before responding to your boyfriend. “Uh, yeah! I’m fine, Min!” You mentally facepalmed. You heard Minho wait a few seconds outside the door, before the shuffle of his feet told you that he’d gone back to the living room area. “Shit shit shit SHIT SHIT!” You dropped to your knees, frantically digging through the piles of clothes you had brought out for something, anything good enough to wear. As the piles in front of you got smaller and the piles of rejected clothes behind you got bigger, tears started to fall down you cheeks, ruining the makeup you had spent an excruciating hour on. You frantically swiped at your face, tear-blurred vision making everything just blobs of color. Your mind was going a mile a minute and you couldn’t keep up, you couldn’t stop, you couldn’t breathe-

“Aaaaaand that’s when we pause what we’re doing.” You hear Minho’s voice somewhere far away. You feel his strong but gentle grip dragging you away from your closet. You feel his presence as he wraps his arms around you. None of it is enough to ground you. “None of it looks pretty on me…I’m not pretty.” You murmur into his chest, trying to hide from the thoughts that were slowly getting louder. “Wha-where did you get that ridiculous idea from?” Minho pulled you in closer, running his fingers through your hair. “You are a fucking wonder to look at.” “You have to say that, you’re my boyfriend.” You shake your head. "Baby, you know as well as I do that if you looked like shit, I'd tell you."

"Not like that's possible, of course."

Changbin

"Baby! We're leaving in two minutes!" Changbin shouted from the door, shoes already half on. "Sweetheart, do you like me in blue or silver?" You came down, wearing an oversized t-shirt that was most likely from your boyfriend's closet. In your hands were two mini-dresses, one silver with ruffles on the bottom and the other royal blue with a halter neck. Both were still on the hangers, perfectly showing off what they each had to offer. "I love you, period." Changbin smiled, finally tugging his shoe on. "But the blue looks absolutely stunning on you." "That's what I thought too, but the ruffles on the silver accentuate my legs." You look down at your bare bottom half. "I love my legs." "I love your legs too, baby." Changbin walked up to you, kissing your cheek. "But. I also love your shoulders, and the blue dress shows them off so well!" You hesitate a moment, looking at your boyfriend, then the dresses. "But what about my ruffles?" You pout. "Okay, here's what I think is happening. You want me to say silver, but I'm not getting the hint." Changbin grabs his phone and keys. "You're also asking for my opinion like you can't decide, but if you're fighting for the silver, I think the choice is obvious." "Silver it is?" You ask.

"Silver it is."

Hyunjin

The closet loomed, filled with piles of clothes. You stared at it, defeated. Little Eunseo, gurgling happily in her bouncer, was oblivious to the chaos wreaking havoc on the room. Today was Eunseo's first official family photoshoot. A memory to be captured, and you were about a millimeter away from throwing on pajamas and calling the whole thing off. "Ugh," you groaned, running a hand through your hair. "Everything feels too frumpy or too… bleh." Hyunjin leaned against the doorway, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Hey, what's wrong? You okay?" "Okay? I'm not okay!" You threw your hands up. "We're going to have these pictures forever! I can't decide what to wear. Do I go with effortless vibes? Or try to look like I haven't been surviving on three hours of sleep for the past year?" You gestured dramatically to the overflowing closet. Hyunjin chuckled, stepping into the room and wrapping his arms around you from behind. "You look beautiful, no matter what you wear. But," he winked, "I might have an idea." You raised an eyebrow. "And what brilliant fashion advice do you have?" Instead of answering, Hyunjin pulled away and started rummaging through the clothes. You watched him, half amused and half frustrated. He pulled out a white, flowy midi dress that you had forgotten you owned. "Remember this?" he asked, holding it up. "You wore it on our anniversary trip to Jeju. It’s beautiful and comfortable." You hesitated, remembering the trip. "But... it's been a while. I don't even know if it will fit." Hyunjin ignored your doubt. He then reached for a gold necklace you often wore, and a pair of simple, comfortable sandals. He laid everything out on the bed, then turned to you, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Trust me. Try it on." Hesitantly, you obliged. You slipped into the dress. It fit perfectly. The soft fabric draped comfortably, and it still fit. You felt…lighter, more relaxed. You added the necklace and the sandals, and looked at yourself in the mirror. You had to admit, Hyunjin had nailed it. It was simple, elegant, and comfortable. It was you. "Wow," you breathed, turning to Hyunjin. "You... you did good." Hyunjin beamed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I know what looks good on you," he said, stepping closer and brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "You're naturally beautiful. You just needed a little reminder." He then scooped Eunseo out of her bouncer, carefully holding him close. "And this little girl thinks you're the most beautiful woman in the world, no matter what you're wearing."

[storywriter007]

Hi!! First off, I love your work. You are amazing. Okay so my request is basically I have two, both being Percy Jackson x reader comfort fics. Feel free to do one or both of neither!

1) Percy Jackson x reader where the reader has a lot of mental health struggles and is feeling very anxious and overwhelmed and overworked and dissociates a lot more than normal, but is bottling it all up from everyone and trying so hard to be okay and fine, even to her boyfriend Percy who can definitely tell something is off but doesn't want to push it. Maybe show some times he tries to get her to open up but she brushes him off. Then, she just breaks and has a panic attack and complete breakdown, and she ends up dropping something glass and cutting herself on it, and Percy finds her in the middle of it and helps her and comforts her and then they talk about it after.

2) This one is Percy Jackson x reader who gets seriously injured on the Argo II and tries to act like it's not that bad but then Percy (her boyfriend) forces her to let him look at it and it is really bad and he takes care of her and comforts her (kinda like the Leo fic where he cleans the wound on her back because I love that one so much), and then helps her fall asleep after.

Again feel free to do neither or both or just one, thank you so much I love your work!!

I've Got You - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

author's note: thank you for the requests! i will answer them in two seperate posts, this one is the first one you asked for!

author's note 2: i'm so glad you enjoy my work like you have no idea how much it means to me

warnings: cursing, self-doubt, reader is struggling mentally, mentions of blood

genre: fluff

word count: 1.2k

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

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send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)

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"are you okay?" a voice called out, replaying itself in the background.

y/n felt someone shake her and she snapped out of her daze.

"y/n." percy said, looking into her eyes. "are you okay? what's going on? you've been staring at the wall for the past ten minutes."

"nothing." she responded, unconvincingly.

percy gave her that look. like the one a mother gives her child when she catches them with their hand down the cookie jar.

"nothing!" she smiled, cheering up. "i'm fine, just a little tired."

"do you want to sleep in my cabin? maybe visit the hypnos cabin?" he proposed.

he was so sweet.

"no, no. i'm fine, just worn out." she lied. "i'm gonna take a nap."

"okay." he said, his voice doubtful.

he kissed the top of her head before leaving her cabin. as soon as she was alone, y/n's head dropped into her hands as she clutched her hair.

what is wrong with me her mind screamed.

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"are you sure you don't want to go to sleep?" percy asked, sitting on y/n's floor.

"for the hundreth time, yes percy, i'm fine." she said, starting to get annoyed.

she knows, he just cares about her, but she just couldn't right now.

"you don't have to do all of this in one day." he reminded. "all of this is due in a week."

a week isn't enough time her mind yelled.

"percy." she said, looking him in the eye. "i'm fine. i swear."

then she shot her that stupid look again.

"i'm fine!" she defended.

"okay, okay." he said. "i'm going to go to bed. stop by my cabin if you need anything."

now she felt bad. he was just looking out for her.

"i'm sorry." she smiled. "and i will. but trust me, i'm fine."

he gave her a smile back. but, it wasn't a good-luck or i-love-you smile. it was a you're-a-fucking-liar-and-i'll-leave-you-alone-but-i-don't-believe-you. percy left and y/n rested her head on her bunk as she looked up at the wood. tears fell from the corners of her eyes.

how was she going to do it? she felt like the world was on her back even more than usual.

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y/n stood in percy's cabin after he insisted that she spend the night with him. she picked up a picture frame that was on his nightstand. it was cute, it was a picture of him and y/n laying down in the new york snow.

she smiled, but a feeling of dread crept up on her as she clutched the glass.

you've got so much to do. you have such little time. i mean, you're a weak excuse of a demi-god. i mean, c'mon, who gets this stressed out? who zones out this much? percy doesn't deserve this. he deserves better. he needs better. he needs someone who isn't a borderline psycho. he's a hero. what are you? a wannabe. a parasite. he's going to leave you sooner or later. it's just a matter of time. oh are you going to cry now? you're such a fucking crybaby.

she dropped the glass. shards hit the floor as tears fell from her eyes. she held her knees to her chest and put her head in her bloody hand as she wept.

"y/n?" percy asked, shutting the door behind him.

"oh-oh my god, percy, i'm so so so sorry." she said, cleaning up the glass that had just shattered everywhere. "i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry."

"hey, it's okay." he smiled, dropping down next to her. "it's just a picture, i have it on my computer."

"no, no, i'm such an idiot. i'm so sorry." she said, hiding her teary eyes from him. "i can't do anything right."

"what? that's not true, don't say that."

"but it is true." she whispered, tears falling from her eyes.

"hey hey hey." he said, turning her face so she was forced to look at his sea green eyes. "i've got you."

she couldn't keep it in anymore. wells of tears fell from her eyes as she violently trembled. percy pulled her into him, placing her head on his chest. she wept into him as the familiar smell of salt-water flooded her nose.

"i've got you, it's alright." he said.

his voice was so soft and calming.

"i'm so so sorry." she breathed out. "i've been so mean to you and i, i broke your picture frame and now i'm bleeding all over you floor, and you probably hate me."

he backed up for a minute and looked down at her hands. they were covered in blood.

"it's okay, it's okay, don't worry about it." he said, kissing her forehead. "i've got you. c'mon, let's wrap this up."

he stood up, and basically picked her up so she would stand too.

"i don't want to go to the infirmary-"

"we don't have to." he assured. "let's wash the blood off, and i have gauze in here."

she felt like a baby as percy rinsed her hands off and wrapped the hurt one in gauze. she sat on his bunk as he carefully cleaned up the glass on the floor. after a few minutes, he sat down next to her. she just couldn't help it, tears started falling from her eyes.

he let her cry into him. he just ran his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head every now and then. he kept telling her that it was "alright" and that she was "okay" and that "he's got her." there was something about percy that made her feel so safe around him. maybe it was his soothing voice, or the way he smelled, or maybe it was his touch. whatever it was, it made hiding things from him draining. after half-an-hour, y/n's tears ran dry. she pulled back from percy's chest and looked up at him with red eyes.

"hey, i'm here, you're okay." he reassured, wiping her tears with his thumbs. "what's going on?"

he grabbed a water bottle and gave it to her. even he knew she was dehydrated after crying.

"i-i don't know." she sputtered. "i don't know. i've been in my own head. and i just keep feeling like i'm nothing but a screw up and a mess, and i'm so nervous for the next big quest. i-i can't. i feel like i'm just gonna lose you and i don't have enough time to figure it out. i just feel useless, like a failure whose just going to seal everyone's terrible fate."

"y/n." he paused. "you are the most capable, amazing, intelligent, kind, funny, beautiful, person i've ever met. you are more than enough. and you have time and if you can't get to things, so what? it's okay. and when the next big things happens, it happens."

she felt his firm hands around her arms, holding her tightly.

"and i'm not going anywhere." he reassured.

hearing him clear up all of the awful things her mind has been cramming into her head was cathartic.

"i'm sorry." she said, looking up at him. "i've been such a bitch to you when you were just trying to help-"

"don't worry about it. i knew you weren't doing well." he smiled. "it's alright now."

he bent down and kissed her. his arms wrapped around her upper-half as her arms wrapped around his neck. the kiss was slow and gentle. when they finally pulled away, y/n rested her head underneath his chin.

"i love you." she whispered.

"i love you more." he whispered back, kissing the top of her head.

[kiyomitakada]

AU where Sayu is there when Light tests the Death Note. She comes into his room and asks what he’s doing and he shows her the notebook like “check out this hilarious prank I found” and they start laughing about it like “omg are you gonna write someone’s name in it” and then of course Light does write a name down and the person dies. And he and Sayu both saw it happen live on TV

oh god. i really like this actually. i feel like light would try to hide it at first because he's embarrassed he even brought it home in the first place but sayu would snatch it away from him and go "lmao i didn't know you were into this kind of thing onii-chan" and light would relax and think why was i so stressed in the first place? it's just sayu. and then they test it, sayu egging light on, and otoharada kuro dies.

i feel like sayu would immediately panic. soichiro says in the hospital that he thinks sayu is the kind of person who would try kira's weapon on someone in school as a joke and have a breakdown upon them actually dying, and while soichiro is literally never home sayu does canonically blame herself for the death note being lost to mello (sayu you were literally kidnapped it's not your fault), so i'm inclined to take him as accurate here (plus he says nothing about what he thinks light would do with kira's weapon… so). light would probably act as the voice of reason just to reassure his sister (and himself) that they haven't just committed a murder. obviously it was a coincidence, sayu! don't be ridiculous, that's impossible, etc. etc. since light is #1 expert at believing his own lies this means he does actually relax a bit more than in canon.

now. do they test the book again? sayu would immediately want to destroy it i feel like. (morally questionable sayu interpretations are my beloved forever but in canon she's just a really sweet if mischievous kid who has a guilt complex the size of the sun, i'm going to go with firmly anti-magic killing weapon sayu for now.) light obviously wants to test it again, and has superficially convinced himself it was probably a coincidence haha sayu's so silly, so he might even go for a riskier target. maybe he tries writing down the next criminal who comes on the news and sayu has to yank the pencil away from him. at this point light realizes sayu is really really upset and apologizes and stows the notebook away, forcing himself not to think about any longer. sayu leaves the room.

this lasts for like maybe 30 minutes before light is like …………okay but what if it did work—

he tries a car accident this time, again with someone on the news. (heart attacks are ruled out because sayu would know.) aaaand yep it does work! congrats light you're a murderer now!

at this point i think the most likely course of action is the one outlined in this post by corviiids (very similar AU: sayu gets the death note first) where light still becomes kira, the yagami siblings both see ryuk, sayu realizes light is a serial killer and has a meltdown, light makes sayu give up her memories (promising falsely that he'll also do it right after) and then keeps the death note for himself, and canon proceeds as usual.

…what if sayu didn't give up her memories though. what if she screamed for her mother instead.