#i'm working at least i hours every day despite a sick note saying i should be doing 16 hrs a week

[dnovep]

oooh 2025 the 'pushing a boulder uphill' u are so far

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Eating the Spring Shoots of Dog-Strangling Vine--An Experiment

**WARNING** Every member of the milkweed family is poisonous. Some members, including all milkweeds (Asclepias) are edible after cooking, though some need more thorough cooking than others. Beginning foragers should absolutely not try this. More experienced foragers do so at their own risk.

Invasive species are everywhere. They differ from naturalized non-native plants in that they negatively impact the environment outside their native range. Dandelions, for example are not invasive in many places despite their numbers. But dog-strangling vine (Vincetoxicum) most certainly is. Its roots release a chemical in the ground that is poisonous to other plants and it's just close enough to the milkweeds to fool the monarch butterflies into laying their eggs on them, but the hatchlings then starve because they can't eat them. Garlic mustard is another invasive plant in North America and it also releases chemicals in the soil, but it's a perfectly edible plant and could in theory be eaten out of existence. Pity the same isn't true of dog-strangling vine--or is it?

The dogbanes (Apocynum) are another genus in the milkweed family and are known to be much more poisonous than milkweeds typically are (again, some are more poisonous than others). Yet there are edible uses for hemp dogbane (Apocynum cannabinum). It just happens to involve more preparation than, say, common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca).

I'm unaware of anyone dying from consuming dog-strangling vine, unlike lily-of-the-valley, yet another invasive species, which has killed people. In fact I couldn't find evidence of anyone eating it at all. I'm sure I can't have been the first to try, but if it's ever been recorded that information is not easily accessible.

I've read a lot about preparation of poisonous plants into edible vegetables and what I found in common is that young shoots seem to be the safest and generally you boil them (some in several changes of water). Pokeweed, for example, is deadly poisonous but for the young shoots in spring before the stems turn red. In that stage you can cook and eat them, and they used to be harvested fairly regularly and canned and sold in grocery stores.

So my plan was that I would try just a little to start and see if I got sick or had any worrying symptoms and work my way up. This is what I started with:

Just three little shoots from the garden. I fried them up until tender and crispy, at which point they also smelled quite nice, kind of a mix of asparagus and spinach, where before they had an unpleasant chemical smell. The taste was quite nice too. A sweet asparagus flavour. No symptoms after waiting a week.

That gave me some confidence because frying is considerably less thorough than boiling is and yet no adverse reaction. So the next step was to try a handful:

Since these were somewhat older I had to cut the ends off some of them, as you would asparagus. Cooked them longer and on higher heat, just in case. Also threw in some daisy buds. Same asparagus spinach smell, same sweet asparagus flavour. And again, no symptoms.

I waited a little over a week and then it was time for the final stage:

This time I did boil them, since I didn't want to play fuck around and find out *that* much. I then fried them up with some mushrooms I'd collected that day and then I mixed it all into some Annie's pasta, along with fresh invasive onions from the ravine. The final result was enough for three meals' worth, so I had a third for dinner, more for lunch the next day, and the rest for lunch the following day. It's now over 24 hours since yesterday's lunch. No symptoms.

This doesn't make it generally edible. I am a data point of one. What I can say is that, at least for some people this plant can be consumed young if cooked thoroughly with no short-term ill effects. Note that some people are able to eat the poisonous mushroom species of the Agaricus genus with no symptoms. They're still poisonous mushrooms.

The point is it's promising! I have shown it is *possible*. If other brave people who exercise appropriate caution eventually have similar results then, well, anecdata becomes data. :)

For my part I will definitely be adding this plant to my mental list of spring vegetables that require thorough cooking.

[mossy-thing]

In Vain

I have reached a point in the Hunger Games Lay of Leithian Abomination at which I know the oneshot that started it all won't make it into it as a chapter, so here you go!

Characters: Finrod, Lúthien, Beren

Warnings: Hunger Games AU, non graphic violence, sickness, manipulation and abuse of scared children, referenced offscreen suicide general despair.

Ao3

The howl that echoed from outside the cave they had found, and Finrod could not tell whether it was a few paces from the entrance or halfway across the arena, was enough to jerk Beren from his sleep, and the only thing that worried Finrod more than the boy tearing open the haphazard stitches on his hip was that the howls seemed neither human nor beastlike.

"It's alright," he mumbled as Beren grasped for him, fevered and half stuck in a nightmare he could escape by awakening, half in one both of them would never leave. Finrod was sure, at least, that he would not. Beren, he tried to hope for.

It proved more and more difficult.

"It's alright," he repeated, and Beren blinked at him through clouded eyes. "Fin…?"

"Yes, it's me," Finrod breathed, relieved that the salve seemed to do something at least, taking away a little of the fever. Perhaps Beren would make it, without him having to take the actions that note had suggested so slyly. "It's me. You're going to be alright, I promise."

"Is he awake?"

He started so bad that this time he was the one nearly tearing stitches, and Beren gave a horrible sound, stuck half between a sob and a whimper. "I'm sorry," the girl whispered, as he begged Beren to be quiet, and she slowly entered the cave. Her black hair fell over half her face like a curtain, despite him continually telling her to bind it away from her face, and she was, infuriatingly, still barefoot.

"I brought berries," she said, and passed a handful to Finrod. He tried not to swallow down every single one at once.

"What about Gorthaur?", he asked, brushing away a curl from Beren's hot, but no longer scalding brow. He hoped, prayed, nearly, that Lúthien would say the district one tribute was dead, long gone, just as Tevildo and Thu were, but her brow furrowed in a way that made him think it was in vain.

"I don't know," she said, pushing berries into the mouth of an only half lucid Beren. Any other child her age he would not have trusted with gathering food and knowing whether it was poisonous or not, but Lúthien knew what she was doing. It was like the woods were a part of her.

(He hadn't really asked her how old she was. There had been little time for that, between running from fireballs and rabid wolves, but he assumed about four years younger than him. Ten, maybe. Eleven, at most.)

"They have not announced him," she said, which he could confirm (he had been keeping a close eye on that after Edrahil's death), "but he is being quiet. I have not seen him."

Finrod bit back a sharp remark that she should not have been in a position in which she might have seen him in the first place. He knew she would ignore it regardless.

"The wolves are coming closer, though," she said. That, he had noticed too. "I know," he murmured, looking down at Beren.

The boy had been injured while Finrod had been out drawing away Thu into the vague direction of an undoubtedly furious Celegorm. Based on the twin drums that night, their plan had been successful. It barely managed to weigh up what he had found upon his return to the place they had agreed on, though.

Finrod sighed. They had gotten a salve from the capitol, but it did not work as quickly as he felt it should. It had only been applied a few hours ago, but what he had seen of these kinds of things in previous games had made him hope… treacherously hope…

In vain again, it seemed. They would have to move, soon, or else either one of the remaining tributes, a beast, or a machine of the capitol would force them out of their cave.

Neither of them would survive to see the day after tomorrow, if Finrod didn't do what he had dreaded since the salve had arrived.

Lúthien was still feeding Beren dutifully, petting his hair as she did so, and he leaned into her touch. The sweet sight made Finrod sick to his stomach.

After the capitol had lost their 'epic romance' in Fingon and Maedhros when the two had decided to jump off a cliff, locked together in a final embrace, they had seemed to catch onto these two, children, Finrod thought bitterly, little children, who should have never been thrust into this sick game as it was, as their new, juicy romantic subplot.

The implications on the note delivered with the salve were quite clear.

Finrod took a trembling breath. This was for Beren, he reminded himself. "Maybe," he started, hating himself for every syllable forced past his chapped lips, "he will wake up properly, if you kiss him."

Lúthien looked at him, confusion in her deep black eyes. And, more dangerously, hope. "Really? Like in a fairy tale?"

"Yes," Finrod lied, "Yes, Lú, just like in a fairy tale."

She looked at Beren with a considering frown on her face. She bit her lip. "I don't think I should without asking first," she said, and he hid his hands so she wouldn't notice the tremors.

"I'm sure he won't mind," he said, sure Beren would mind, no matter what kind of shy glances he had thrown at the little girl from day one, and he tried not to think what his sister thought of him now, sitting in their little house back in district eight, her hands pressed to her mouth. Had they shown the note on television? How was he being portrayed? It had seemed like the people from the capitol had liked him, in that horrible first week. They had laughed at his jokes, had whispered behind their hands with glittering eyes, had stared at him – he tried not to think of the staring too often – but had they liked him? Had he gotten that right?

He did not know.

"And if you do it now, and then take a well deserved rest from that trip outside, then I am sure he will be nearly ready to go when you wake up."

Lúthien kept staring at him, seemingly unsure what to think. He could not blame her. But finally, after an impossibly long time, she nodded, leaned forward slowly, and pressed soft lips to Beren's brow. Finrod looked away. He hoped with all his heart that he would not have to ask more of her, hoped that the capitol would be so delighted by this portrayal of innocence that they would not force more onto these two children, and this time when he spoke, the tremble was not something he could suppress.

"That was great," he whispered, and opened his free arm as an invitation to rest. Lúthien looked sorrowful, confused, and scared. And still, full of hope. He hoped it would not betray her.

He hoped he would not betray her.

He hoped that this time, it would not be in vain.

Lúthien curled into his side, a hand still caressing Berens black locks, and listened to Finrod's reassurances until she fell asleep, as she had done every night since they had teamed up.

Finrod didn't know anymore who exactly he was whispering them to. They felt automatic, now, like a mantra that had lost its meaning but still clung on tight to his tongue.

With the hand not soothing the children, he held his sword.

Outside, the wolves drew nearer.

[strawberry-nugget]

𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙄 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪 | E. Kirishima/ Reader/ K. Bakugo

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 1

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: after weeks of Bakugo distancing himself from you and Kirishima you finally get the chance to talk out what happened the other day, one thing leads to another and...

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, thr*esome, oral (f! and m! receiving), double penetration, fingering, p*ssy slapping, dacryphilia, all characters portrayed are over the age of 20

𝘼/𝙉: I'm so sorry this took me so long. I know this is 6.5k with little to no plot but I hope you enjoy this, hehe, thanks for all of the notes and amazing comments on the last one. I'll be reblogging in a few minutes with the tags in those who asked. Also. This is top Kirishima. Top top top top Kirishima.

It's been two weeks now that you and Bakugo exist in different timelines.

He's never home, lost in patrol after patrol, leaving a hot mess behind him in his room, belts, gear, his back up costume messily sprawled across his room -you guess he doesn't have enough time to clean everything up. Still, the rest of the apartment always looks inhabitable, save for the little mess you make in the kitchen when you cook; he never cleans what's supposed to be your task.

You feel yourself growing sadder every day. It's something Kirishima notices and informs you he feels as well, rooted deep in how Bakugo is treating the two of you ever since that night. And the worst part is you can't do anything about it. He doesn't return his phone calls nor does he ever pick up, and by now you've accepted that he purposely avoids being in the house with you. It hurts even more knowing that he and Kirishima see each other at work every day; at least he knows Katsuki is doing okay, though as he reports, he rarely ever talks more than patrol and business.

You only wonder why he acts the way he does, thinking you don't deserve to get ghosted over for what happened. He's your roommate and one of your best friends, whatever made him feel like he has the right to ghost you with such each is not going to go by so easily and you're not willing to wait it out anymore either.

Thus, this Thursday night you call in sick for work and emerge yourself in the bathtub after checking the clock. 7.25pm. It's still an hour until Katsuki is off his shift, which means you have plenty of time to do some self care. Shave your legs, scrub your whole body with your coconut scrub- anything to calm down that put of anxiety that's starting to boil in the pit of your stomach.

You fear for the worst. That Katsuki doesn't want to be your friend anymore, and losing him doesn't sit right with you. Not over just catching him masturbating once.

There's a ton of things you want to say, or ask him. The lingering thought of him liking Kirishima or you digs deep enough into your brain and plants itself there, getting comfortable right next to the thought of him being jealous of your relationship. Could this be it? Could he just be lonely? He never talks about meeting anyone or having sex -that must be it, he's lonely, that's all.

Your bath doesn't last for long because you're nervous and the water runs cold before you have the chance to enjoy yourself. Maybe it's time to start turning the heating on in the apartment and you curse yourself because you have to talk this out with Bakugo as well -fuck its hard to not live on your own when you have to make shared decisions with someone. To your stomach's turbulence dismay you can't get out of talking to Katsuki.

"No, I literally won't tell you where she is Bakugo"

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of the door unlocking and closing again, followed by your boyfriend's familiar voice. You don't make a single movement to exit the bathroom yet- you're frozen, opting to rest on top of the toilet cap until you hear Bakugo's reply, your gut falling into a muddy pit of panic.

"I swear to fucking god if you two are trapping me to talk about it"

Typically of him, he shouts, barking and chewing a few sounds of what he's saying. Kirishima knows he's all bark and no bite though, you're eager to figure out how he'll oppose him.

"She wants to talk to you, you can't just ghost her like that when you live with her" There's a long pause next "and you should have told me that you're in fucking love with her"

"What?" Katsuki exclaims

What?

"You think I'm an idiot? Or that I can't comprehend basic human behavior? I know how people who feel the way you do act"

"What are you even saying Kirishima? That I'm jealous?"

You blink feverously, trying to take in what you're listening to unfold in the other room. You know a part of you has been wishing that this scenario wasn't true.

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying. You should have told me you liked her in the beginning. I would have never made a move"

They bicker back and forth for a few minutes; Katsuki accusing and Eijiro defending, then switching back and forth before going silent. It's then that you think you should emerge from the bathroom. It feels wrong to not be part of this conversation when you're the reason for their bickering, but at this point the guilt in your stomach is rotting and polluting your insides.

With a sigh, you turn the doorknob and inhale deeply. You tell yourself you can do this. You have to do this, yet your eyes are filled with hot and salty tears as you approach the living room.

Both of them eye you simultaneously, pursed lips and hands crossed over their chests; the only relieving thing about this is that they're sitting next to each other on the couch, their calves slightly touching. You know they'll make up again, they always will, but you're scared you won't be able to be part of that make up. Not with the information that's been poured onto you.

"Hi" You whisper and despite being sure both of them heard you, they make no effort to open their mouths and talk back "I uhm" You clear your throat "I heard what you were ah saying"

"Course ya did" Katsuki growls "course ya fucking did"

"Baku- I-"

"Save it! I'm gonna-" He snaps and makes a move to get off the couch, though Eijiro has other plans; he slams him back down with just a push of his hand

The same hand that's extended to you, overlapping Katsuki's chest, wordlessly asking you to join them on the couch. Your heart warms up slightly. Kirishima always does his best to make you feel included, it's no surprise he's smiling at you when you take a seat next to the blond.

"You're not going anywhere Bakugo. And babe, you can speak now"

Though you smile nervously with your lips, your first word falls silent, in awe of a lung filling sigh. Then by the time you gather some thoughts together your chest is shivering and the tears that you managed to drown before are now threatening to spill from your eyes again.

Kirishima is watching you religiously, pouting as you throw your head to the opposite direction of his to let out a small sob. He tightens the grip of his hand around yours and barely notices Bakugo batting his eyes to that direction.

"Hey, no, don't cry"

"I just don't want to lose Bakugo because of this" you sob and Kirishima shoots a killer gaze at the blond, biting the inside of his lip.

"You're not losing anyone idiot" Bakugo says, clearing his throat, giving Kirishima a strained look as well

"Babe, don't worry, Bakugo and I will be fine, you and Bakugo will be fine"

You sob again, wiping a stream of tears that's falling from your eyes and Kirishima wastes no time on cupping your cheek after bullying Bakugo to do the same. A nice change, you think, two hands reaching out for your face, you could almost get used to this.

"Yeah, you're not losing me" Bakugo tries to soothe, though by Kirishima's demand he adds to his words "I- uhh, I might want you but this has nothing to do with us not being friends"

"Yeah?" You sniffle, looking up

"Yeah"

It's too soft how you're cuddled into their arms instantly, pulled on top of them to sit on both of their laps, held tightly in both of their embraces. You coo into their arms for a while, content when Kirishima kisses your cheek and sobbing faintly when Bakugo rubs your back in circles.

"Do you want a beer baby?" Kirishima asks, softly patting your back and kissing your nape as he leaves you clinging onto Bakugo. You nod into the crook of Bakugo's neck in reply and Kirishima smiles from the other side of the couch.

The sound of the fridge opening is timelines away from what's entering your mind. Is it wrong that you like that cuddle too much? And is it even more wrong that you want more? Bakugo feels nice when you're curling up onto his lap and Kirishima adds warmth and love into everything he's touching, you almost feel your thighs clench at the idea of where your mind's traveling to.

"What if we had a threesome?"

It's so faint when it comes out of your mouth that you're convinced there shouldn't be any loud reaction to it, though you hear the can of beer that's presumably in Kirishima's hand hit the floor, you feel Katsuki's hand freeze on your back. Both of them wonder if they've heard correctly, but never asking you to repeat it.

"A uhm.. Threesome?" Kirishima asks "you'd like that?"

"Yes"

You try to hide your face deeper into Bakugo's neck, but he doesn't seem to approve of it- he pushes you back softly, with a thick hand on your stomach and another still on your back. You feel your face burning as you're forced to face him

"You'd really want a threesome?" You nod and Bakugo gulps "Right now?"

"Mhm" You gulp too, your nose almost nuzzling against his "if- if you want to"

The way you're swamped with attention is overwhelming. From the way Kirishima jumps to the edge of the couch towards you, to the way Bakugo lifts you up and stands on his feet, urging you to do the same as your feet land one by one on the carpet underneath you.

"Fuck okay uh, are you fine with it Bakugo?" The redhead asks, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I am."

Kirishima gulps when he sees Bakugo latch onto you, placing his hand on your shoulder and coughing up slightly "Should we set some rules?"

"Yes" Bakugo coughs as well, though you can feel him getting hard to where your thoughts are meeting his "wanna suggest anything?"

"Great uh, maybe no kissing between the two of you, since she's my girlfriend? And Katsuki you're wearing a condom too. Are these fine?"

Both of you gulp and nod. It's natural for Kirishima to ask this. Sharing you out of the blue can't completely sit right with him; it almost flicks a switch on inside your gut, making you gulp again when you feel him hugging you from behind.

"Safeword?" Bakugo asks

"Red" You reply cooing when your back finally hits your boyfriend's chest.

You don't even have enough time to count down seconds before you're pounded and squished between the two of them. It's a miracle that you somehow manage to convince them to move it to the bedroom.

Even if making a small stop at the hall wasn't in your original plan

Kirishima's hands are everlastingly on your waist pulling your back into his chest. He's nibbling on the nape of your neck, his fingers light as feathers as they're peeling your T-shirt off of you. He almost grunts at your exposed back, leaning down just to place a kiss on each of your shoulders before latching onto your ear

"It's fine baby, it's fine if you're embarrassed okay?" He blows into you then takes a bite of your ear lobe to which you shiver as you snap your head to his face. “what? Are you that excited?"

You gulp, nodding with your eyes shutting, an expression on your face that looks almost painful -Bakugo can't help but palm himself, searching Kirishima's carmine eyes with his, waiting for a sign that he should make a move or retreat. Anything that doesn't involve him getting a front row seat to how your chest bounces as Kirishima runs his hands on your torso from behind.

"Fuck, I-" He says, swallowijg his tongue in the process, just when Kirishima's hands change paths, now wiggling underneath your sweatpants.

"Enjoying the show Bakugo?" Kirishima's smiles and fuck- when did he adopt such an attitude? "Come 'ere"

Bakugo does as he's commanded, guided by Kirishima, as he trails your torso with his hands intertwined with his, squeezing your upper hips, trailing your belly button, eyeing you with doe eyes before launching a kiss to your navel. You writhe and wiggle in Kirishima's embrace- the feeling of another man too new, too strange to take in in less than a few moments, but Eijiro's got you, kissing your nape, your cheek, softly playing with your breasts above your bralette. Whispering his praises with his hands across your body.

"Good girl" You're sure he whispers in your ear "I got you" But all you can feel is Katsuki's breath as he's placing open mouthed kisses across your tummy, over the valley of your chest, your cheek.

Kirishima is overly alert by this, jumping in between the little scene, capturing your lips with his, using a hand to push Bakugo into the kiss as well, pulling him in as lips as smeared against lips, your saliva trailing out of your mouth. You instinctively rub your thighs together to relieve some of the burning sensation between your legs

Soon enough, Bakugo is taking off your pants, rhen his shirt, Kirishima's taking his off too, managing not to let you go all while pushing the three of you into the bedroom. There's nothing but a trail of clothing in the hallway that could suggest what's happening inside the room once the door closes shut; three pairs of sweats, three different t-shirts and maybe the white ghost of hot and heavy breathing.

On the bed, it's way more comfortable. Your arching back is finally resting against the pillowy mattress, Kirishima's smile from upside down soothing and forgiving, you almost melt away while he cups your face and bumps his nose to yours, giggling slightly, before glaring at Bakugo. He guides your head into his lap, still holding your cheeks, still rubbing circles onto your soft face, pouting hard before facing your friend.

"You good babe?" He asks you and you nod again, humming a small reply to him "you too Katsuki?"

"Yeah, fuck yeah, I am" He gulps, pumping himself twice.

"You're not getting in without prep by the way"

You writhe in Kirishima's lap, gooey eyes and mouth open wide as he leans to pry your legs open, trailing his middle finger across your clothes slit. Your chest jumps when you hear him chuckle. You know he's struck the gold vein he's searching for, your panties swimming in a puddle, completely damp from getting your neck attacked only a few minutes ago.

Katsuki marvels a finger across your slit as well, avoiding your clit purposely or flicking it occasionally, moaning every time his finger touches the chilly dampness of your underwear.

Kirishima pries your legs open wider, hooking his middle finger under your panties and pulling them over and slightly to the side, flashing the blond with a glimpse of you -you swear you see him gulp. Hard.

"Want a taste?" Kirishima asks, chuckling, as if Bakugo isn't frothing at the mouth at the mention of the action, as if he isn't diving in between your thighs like a starved man.

He almost rips your panties by pulling them to the side. Your hands link through his platinum hair and you almost whine at how soft it feels, or, about the moaning sounds he makes as he's digging his fingers in the plush skin of your thigh, swinging your leg wider. You slide a little further along, laid completely flat on the bed -head still on Kirishima's lap.

Sweetly, Kirishima captures your inner lips with his fingers and circles them around before making you hump on him, his knuckles bumping with Bakugo's nose when he chuckles again. You almost tear up by the over stimulating pressure Kirishima's fingers provide for you, but you decide to hold it in; not sure hitched breath leaves your mouth until Bakugo takes an experimental lick across your slit.

With a thumb presses to your clit he retreats for a second, just to watch as he sinks his middle finger inside of you and -"oh my fucking god Katsuki"- he's back at it again, licking at you religiously. Softly, like Kirishima always does, patiently. Just like you love it.

It has your back arching, chest bouncing for Kirishima's eyes to enjoy. He decides he won't have you hanging, bouncing and thrashing. With two huge palms he cups your breasts, flicking your nipples, massaging you for just enough time to make your heart burn, then he wiggles a finger to the hood of your clit, applying throbbing pressure.

The knot in your stomach is tight, your vision blurry, you're sure what you think is silent moaning is probably full-on screaming, mewling or pleas of pleasure that you can't comprehend.

Kirishima is smiling at you from above, still wiggling his finger on you left and right in Bakugo's business and you can't help it- you yelp, pushing Bakugo's face deeper into you. It feels good- too good, like your legs are nothing but jello, your stomach and thighs feeling like they've transformed into liquid smooth. You mewl in Kirishima's arms, coiling, desperately eyeing him in hopes that he and Katsuki won't stop what they're doing.

"M so close" You slur when Kirishima takes a hand of yours away from Bakugo's hair, softly turning it upside down, until your palm is met with the wetness of his foreskin, the pulsing slit of his that leaks precum into your hand.

He whines -"ohh"- when you wrap your fingers around him, instantly pumping your hand up and down, your grip firm and steady as you twist your wrist with every bob of your hand.

"Suck me off baby" Kirishima softly commands, rubbing an experimental circle with his tip on your lips, smearing some of his precum around your mouth. You gulp at how carelessly he pumps his base, until he pries your lips open.

You take him eagerly into your mouth, feeling your stomach churn and your thighs freezing in place by Bakugos movements; so long as you're steadily sucking Kirishima's cock into your mouth, he scissors his fingers inside of you.

"You like that?" He moans into you, eyeing Kirishima "you twitched- fuck you're twitching"

"Show me how wet she is"

Kirishima commands and Bakugo complies by taking his fingers away from your heat and shining them into Kirishima's face. You whimper but how good it feels when he moans against you, blinking as you watch your boyfriend take your friend's fingers in his mouth, sucking in eagerly, before popping the digits out of his mouth, leaving a trail of saliva fall faintly onto the valley of your breasts

"Your pussy's s'wet baby, you're dripping all over over Katsuki's hands" Kirishima thrusts in your mouth "you taste so good" then turns his attention to Bakugo "tell 'er, how fucking good she tastes"

Bulky fingers rub on your clit once more and Bakugos hand secures your tummy in place while pinning you down; you feel it then, the inevitable end of what has been building up in your stomach for such a long while and you can't help but scream at the feeling of coming undone. Shaking, struggling to take a breath without popping Kirishima out of your mouth.

"Fucking perfect"

Your vision is white, your head is buzzing and your legs are frozen. You can feel Kirishima fucking into your mouth once, twice and ever so slightly, depending in how relaxed your jaw is as he's moaning. You don't choke when he hits your throat, you simply moan onto him, too blinded by the afterglow of your orgasm to even react to what's about to unfold.

"Fuck- take 'em off- Fuuck" Kirishima says, you notice. Bakugo probably does as he's told; you hear shuffling and grunting, the soft pop of his dick to his stomach. You want to see-

Bakugo, hazed and drenched in you, cups your womanhood with his hand, landing his thumb on your clit and you yelp again, thrassing onto the bed, finally popping Kirishima out of your mouth. He tugs and drags his fingers away- he's opening you up, of course, that's it- and you can't help but roam your eyes all over him. Searching for his cock, wanting to see it dive inevitably into you.

It's unfair that Kirishima has a better view than you do, but at least, you hope he enjoys the view. You buck your hips forward when you feel Katsukis thighs grace against your own. His skin is unbelievably cold, making the hair on your legs and tummy raise; a tear rolls down your cheek then the moment the tip of his cock touches your clit.

"We've got- ah- condoms in the first drawer. On your left" Kirishima says cheerfully, bucking his hips away from your face, kneeling just to place a kiss on your forehead- your nose- your lips, finally bumping the tip of his nose to yours when he sucks your inner lip into his mouth

"You liked that baby?" Kirishima breathes "You liked Bakugo eating you out?"

"Mhm" You nod, not wanting to break away from the kiss, unlike Kirishima

You can hear Katsuki cursing, slamming the drawer shut as he fidgets with the condom. Everything seems slow, from the way his thick fingers can't grasp the tiny edges of the wrapper, to him finding out what's the right side to put it on -he grunts, inevitably- stealing giggles from both you and Kirishima

"Ah man, you're struggling, come 'ere let me help"

Bakugo grunts once again, although this time it's not out of frustration. Kirishima playfully pulls him close, places a kiss on his navel and extends his hand underneath Bakugo's, politely asking for the condom -you know his lips are pressed into a goofy smiley line right now just by the way his body moves.

Kirishima lets your cheek rest on his thigh when he moves to grab Katsuki's cock, to roll the condom on him while twisting his fist on him no more than twice -unfair- before playfully slapping the blond's ass, urging him to climb onto the bed again.

It's then that your hips are jerked and raised towards the blond, huge palms on your hips, pulling you towards him. Nervous touches, unspoken apologies for potentially harsh movements, his eyes are flickering into yours and his lips are all pouty, scrunched, his cheeks plump with embarrassment. He doesn't know if you notice, nor does he think he ever will, but it's killing him -that he's only allowed to line himself up with you under this circumstance.

Whether you notice the hurt in his eyes or not, you don't comment on it, nor do you spare him any worried look. He doesn't even know if he wants you to take pity on this state of his.

No.

No, he doesn't.

He only hopes Kirishima won't get mad when he cups your face tenderly, nor when he traps your face with his other hand caging you away from the redhead thigh -it's for better leverage he'll say if he's asked to- but you melt into his touch.

And his chest burns.

It's worse when he finally pushes into you. His heart won't stop beating hard and fast and he's scared he's going to have a fall. No-no- he shouldn't think about it, if he does think about it, he'll definitely have a fall.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh," You murmur, feeling the voice come from the depths of your chest.

That's the only confirmation he needs to ignite his ego and light it on fire. You feel good, you're sucking him in deeper and your cheek is still melting into his palm. It's more than enough; he ignores Kirishima's gaze and whatever it may carry behind it. It's for his own sanity he reminds himself.

"You're doing so good babe,'' Kirishima asks you, cupping your other cheek. He's smiling- no need to worry about him not having a positive reaction to Bakugo caressing you

(The rules that had been presented to him were simple- wear a condom and no kissing)

"You're taking it so well, isn't she Katsuki?"

"Fuck yeah" He grunts, thrusting harder

"So, so well baby, we'll make sure you get to come first okay?" You ogle your eyes at Kirishima, teary and soft by his words, clapping your lips together and pouting, begging him silently for a kiss. Only to feel the void when his soft lips don't come in contact with yours

"Oh no, no kiss for baby. You're so naughty, wanting me to kiss you when you're getting fucked by our friend"

"What?" You whine, popping on to your left elbow "Eiji- i want my kiss"

"None can do" He smiles and Bakugo snaps his hips into you "unless you earn it"

Your stomach is tied in a knot again, gummy walls tightening around Bakugo, back arching. It's almost painful to watch you sprawled like this underneath him, reacting in peak with the rhythm of his hips, begging him to go faster, harder. At one point, he's losing himself in the speed he's fucking you with, feeling like he's about to combust from inside out is not helping either

-He thinks, he'll be spent for days after this-

It's guttural, the way you feel as Bakugo thrusts inside of you, the way you mewl and twitch and feel your eyes roll to the back of your head. You feel full, so much that you mutter it, slurred and incomprehensibly at Kirishima. It's more than enough for him to rub your chin with his thumb and buck his hips on your face again. You take him eagerly, smiling with your lips when he lands on your tongue. You swirl it around, pump him deeper into your mouth, suck on his tip until he moans in sync with you.

"Bakugoo" He hisses, biting his lip as he's eyeing you "don't chase your own satisfaction! Go slower and rub her clit too" He takes Bakugos hand away from your face, tracing it down your body before landing on your heat, pinching your clit softly making you moan "ah so responsive"

For a while he doesn't move his hand away, focused on guiding Bakugo's fingers on you, teaching him how to make you feel good while he's fucking and you're on fire, gut churning and chest tight, ovestimulated by how good it all feels. You can't even take a proper breath as Kirishima humps deeper into your mouth. He groans too loud when his tip hits your cheek.

You know this is too much for him, you know he can't hold back any longer, but you grab onto his shaft and twirl your grin on his base, bobbing it into your cheek and popping it out before swallowing it again.

And while Bakugo's thrusts are becoming desperate, Kirishima bursts into your mouth, holding your hair softly, pulling you closer to you- closer, closer, until your nose hits his navel, biting on his cheeks and squinting his eyes so he won't shut them, drunk on the view of you overflowing with his come. He only grubs your chin, swiping his thumb on the white trail that's spilling from the corner of your lips, trying his best to smirk at you without taking a breath.

"Swallow it sweetheart -ah- that's right, you're so -fuck- perfect for me"

Your lower stomach is protesting, bursting slowly as Bakugo is thrusting faster into you. His speed, him hitting that spot in your gut repeatedly, creating the perfect feeling of numbness, it's all too much and not enough all at once, you want to cry out- you gush and you writhe as your legs hook around Bakugo's waist.

Your boyfriend retreats from his previous position, smiling as ever, petting Bakugo's blonde hair, massaging your breast, kissing your nipple, then attacking your upper chest, trapping supple skin in between his tongue and teeth, dragging Bakugo along with him. It's what ultimately leads Bakugo over the edge, his tip feeling numb, blood rushing all over his body, he thrusts a few more times before he pulls out, spilling his own satisfaction into the condom, feeling his heart race faster than ever before.

"Your doing sooo good" Kirishima says once more, pecking your lips repeatedly. "Wanna ride me? Or are you tired? "

"Fuck no, lay down"

"That's my girl" He smiles "Katsuki, come here"

Kirishima rubs your wetness up and down, grunting when he finds your clit, grazing it with the back of his hand, whispering about how wet you are, to which you respond by hugging your arms around his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. You only pull back when he lets you coo into him by petting your hair softly.

You're instantly met with Bakugo's eyes blazing into yours from above- it's not intimidating, rather, it's lustful, but you still need some time to pull yourself back, despite the eagerness in his eyes. You must have missed the point where he discarded his condom, or just how thick he actually is, because he's standing hard and proud before you, nervously searching for Kirishima's approval.

Your boyfriend's approval comes with gripping on him and easing him close to you. You take him in both of your hands, relying on Kirishima to keep your torso lifted, focusing on twisting your hand around him in the same way you did for Eijiro. Too bad you almost lose grip when He snaps his hips into you.

You can feel Katsuki's dick twitch into your hands as you pull him down lower, getting your tongue out of your mouth to place kitten lips all over his length. Eijiro mimics you, licking the tip when you're not licking the base, letting you take control when he ceases his movements for a bit, to lift both of you a little higher, so you don't have to bend your neck as much. He strokes some sweaty strands of hair away from your face, he kisses your cheek and Bakugo is already thrusting into your mouth feverously.

"Fuck"

"You're so wet baby, you feel like you could take us both" You yelp, wide eyes as you freeze on the spot "want to take us both?"

"I do" You yelp with tears in your eyes "I do I do, I do I do"

"Oh, look at you being so desperate, want to get -ah- wrecked, don't you?"

"I do Eiji- you cry out

"Then ask Katsuki to take you too, ask him to shove his cock into you while I'm fucking you too, like the greedy little thing you are"

At this point, you think poor Bakugo isn't going to make it to the end of this.

"Katsu" You plead, watery eyes staring into desperate carmine ones "Katsu fuck me while Eiji fucking me too-"

"Say please" Kirishima interrupts, pinching your nipple "or I'm not going to let him"

"Please, pleaseplease, please"

"Fuck yeah" Katsuki replies "ill fucking wreck you" The sounds he's making are supposed to be words, though they're far from being clear and understandable, his veins are pulsing into your mouth. He's too excited for this, so excited that you know he'll never make it to the drawer to reach for a new condom. So Kirishima is doing it for him, hooking the little rubber between his fingers as he's opening the drawer.

"Come on baby, pull back" He taps on your shoulder and places a kiss on your collar bone, thrusting deeper into you this time. The reaction is immediate, you're throwing your head back in seconds and Bakugo whines at the sudden departure of your warm mouth.

Kirishima allows you to kiss his thighs, his tip, his navel, to squeeze the small of his back and his ass before letting you wear the condom onto him.

You lose track of Bakugo until you feel wet kisses being planted on your thighs and ass, the back of your knees. You feel his hand being placed on your thigh, the warmth of his palm as he's soothingly rubbing it up and down your skin, to prepare you, raising his thumb to graze at your crotch occasionally. You whine every time he thumbs your clit, or flicks it when it meets with Kirishima's navel.

"You good? I'll start with my fingers" You choke on the sound of his words and nod frantically. If only you could actually watch him when he delves his middle finger in you along with Eijiro's cock. Still you whine loudly, when another finger joins the first one, slowly scissoring inside of you "fuck you're gonna take it so well aren't you? Kirishima's right. You love this"

"Answer him," Kirishima whispers, teeth biting down in your lobe. He grabs your face, trapping your cheeks between his fingers, turning you in Katsuki's direction, pushing your cheeks together. You swallow when you see the blind focused on watching you stretch.

"I love it

But Eijiro isn't satisfied with how you're trying to make your words get past from your lips

"Say it like you mean it doll, or I won't let your friend put it in"

You eye him dangerously, putting your lips even further before muttering a soft 'fine' -your redhead doesn't make a comment on your little attitude, probably because he's gotten what he's wanted from you- and Katsuki hisses, fisting his cock faster.

"I love it so much Katsuh"

"And Eiji- you mean. It's not only him that's here" Kirishima smirks and this time he pulls out of you, flipping your body so that your back is facing him. One hand comes to your wetness, spreading your lips apart, stretching you wide open "Try again" He lets go just for a moment, to slap your clit loosely. Once. Twice. Never ceasing when you whine. Your hips buck up towards Katsuki.

"Look at how nice I am, I even gave you a full view. Am I not?"

"You are Eiji. You're the best, the best. And I love this so much, I'm going to combust"

"Oh you will?" Katsuki interrupts, grunting when Kirishima pulls his dick closer to you, rubbing the head on your clit until Katsuki gets the hint. You let out a guttural groan at the feeling, tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes from being too overstimulated for so long

"Yes baby, I will, just please"

"M going in-" Katsuki announces, earning a nod from Kirishima "If he won't let you come, then we don't listen to him 'kay?"

Kirishima chuckles at the one and bites the top of your ears dragging his tongue to the base of it- a warning- to not try and agree with what Katsuki's offering. And being obedient definitely pays off when you feel your boyfriend's head poke against your entrance.

It feels splitting and painful all at once; the tears in your eyes are pouring, and none of the caresses you're receiving is helping. You need time to adjust and both men provide that for you. Minutes pass spent with soft kisses. Kirishima sucking your neck and Bakugo kissing your breasts, the three of you making out- anything until you feel like you can get used to them.

And when you do, they go slow, each at their own pace, simultaneously hitting spots that you don't know could or should ever be hit at the same time.

"You good?" Both men ask and you have to gulp that frog that sits at the top of your mouth if you want to talk, but you can't. Your throat is too tight, your eyes are too watery

"Babe"

"Better than I thought I'd be actually"

You get lost in the haze of their hips, their thrusts and you can already feel Katsuki collapsing onto you, chasing his own pit of pleasure when it hits you. Your gut coming undone for the last time has your heart leaping and skipping beats; you hook your arm around Katsuki's neck, jumping up and down from how fast both men are thrusting into you and you bring your face to his, cooling your mouths together.

When he feels you clamp down on him -and Kirishima- he pulls out, rolls the condom off and strokes himself slightly. You whine at the sudden departure of him inside of you but you quickly clamp down on just your boyfriend, before feeling him shifting from underneath you, finally pushing down the small of your back. You take Katsuki into your mouth while Kirishima slaps your ass, thrusting fast and hard into you.

There's no sweet talk right now, authority and intimidation hiding away as satisfaction is being chased. Sloppily and not carefully at all. It's evident in how you're sucking Katsuki off. There's no consistency in your rhythm, you're squirming as Kirishima is slowing down before picking up his pace again, running his hands through your hair affectionately. When he comes, he coats your insides in white ropes of pleasure, riding off his orgasm softly, until he feels himself stop twitching.

By the time he pulls out you've made Katsuki come as well, hearing his high pitched grunts as he lets it all out in your mouth. Although this time you're not overwhelmed with the amount; it's his second round nonetheless.

Katsuki's hands don't cease to take this chance, even if they're awkward and shaking he's grabbing your cheeks squishing them just like Kirishima did a while ago and kisses you, poking his tongue in your mouth, moaning at his own taste, pulling your lips under his teeth.

You know your lips will be bruised by this. And you don't care. Because when he pulls back, Kirishima is kissing you as well, pulling you into his arms, caging you into his chest.

You even smile as tiny, peppery kisses are pressed onto your skin.

"You did so well" Kirishima smiles "you too Katsu, you both were amazing"

Katsuki smiles, popping onto the bed as well, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling himself onto you and Kirishima. He nuzzles his nose at the crook of your neck and for the first time in a while he feels warm, content, calm and collected. Or so you think by the kiss that's planted onto your back by him.

It's tender and soft, mimicking Kirishima's but feeling nothing like your boyfriend's kisses at the same time. You collapse further into Kirishima's chest and he kisses the top of your hair and your cheek, mellowy.

"Wanna take a bath?" He suggests under his breath and both you and Katsuki nod, sinking further in the sheets with heavy eyes. Maybe when your feet won't feel like they'll betray you, you'll get up and have a warm bath, sandwiched between Katsuki and Eijiro, smothered in kisses, lathered in lavender soap, maybe you'll make a cup of chamomile for the three of of you and cuddle between them before you go to sleep.

Until then…

[crinkled-emotions]

35, 63 and 72 for my poor boy Roo please. Love the Daderick vibes you write

Poor Rooster... this is definitely not my doing 👀😂

Also! I'm considering posting these on my ao3- CallMeG . It'll be titled something basic bitch like "tumblr requests" etc etc... then I'll update it every time we do something like this! Is anyone down for next weekend? If you find a prompt list that looks good please send it through!

I nearly introduced an oc I’ve been working on for the last three months, but I got the idea you wanted Daderick Vibes (tm 😂

35. "Why have you been hiding this from me?", 63. "I don't have time to sleep off a cold." and 72. "Person A hasn't been sleeping due to work, and they of course get sick. Despite Person B's wishes, Person A continues to sneak out of bed and stay up late to get more work done, and Person B is not happy."

Notes: went cold... flu... stomach flu... appendicitis? Even though there’s no correlation between stress and appendicitis? No, stomach flu.

Maverick stirred when he heard the front door open and was immediately on high alert, reaching for the baseball bat resting beside his bed. Then he heard coughing, followed by gasping for air. Sighing, he put the bat back.

He knew exactly who had just come home. Hauling himself out of bed, Maverick found his shirt on the dresser and poked his head out the door.

“Bradley? That you?”

“Hey, Mav. Sorry I woke you.”

Bradley looked... wrecked, to say the least. His shoulders were slumped and he was pale except for the feverish flush on his cheeks. Maverick knew he was coming down with something, but he wasn’t at the point where he was ready to ask for help. He was, however, probably going to work himself to the brink of collapse.

“Have you had dinner, kid? You left here at the ass crack of dawn.”

“Nah, Hangman did a Hangman so I got hauled in front of Cyclone.”

“How does that work?” Maverick frowned, a hint of amusement tugging at his smile. Bradley ran his hand through his hair, sniffing.

“I dunno.”

“B,” Maverick said softly, “maybe you should take tomorrow off. I think you’re getting sick. You’ve got the pale hot flush going.”

“I don’t have time to sleep off a cold.”

“Bradley.”

“No, Mav, it’s just not an option right now.”

Bradley yawned, wincing at his sore throat.

“I’m going to bed. It’s late.”

Maverick watched his son step into the bathroom and close the door, that parental instinct in his gut telling him to listen for him overnight. Just in case.

Sure enough, two hours later Maverick was rudely awoken by a door slamming against a wall. He grimaced, scrubbing at his eyes as he sat up. He thought they were past these days about twenty years ago. Apparently getting sick in the night is something you don’t age out of. Hauling himself out of bed, Maverick made his way back down the hallway and knocked on the door.

“Roo?”

“Go away, Mav.”

“It’s okay, kid. Let me in.”

The toilet flushed and the bathroom door opened after a moment. Maverick frowned.

“How long have you been throwing up?”

“I dunno, yesterday?”

He winced, holding a hand out to stop Maverick getting any closer.

“Hold that thought.”

He shut the bathroom door in Maverick’s face. Maverick grimaced, reaching for the doorknob.

“Roo, I’m coming in. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Mav.”

Maverick stepped into the bathroom and grabbed a cloth, getting it wet under the tap then wringing it out to place on the back of Rooster’s neck.

“Is that better, Roo?”

“Hmm...”

He pitched forward and tried to empty his stomach again. Maverick winced, rubbing a hand between his shoulders.

“Breathe, kiddo, it’s okay. Shhh...”

Maverick managed to get Rooster tucked into bed a little while later, teeth brushed, fever meds and water in his system and a bucket by his bed. He’d passed out the second his head hit his pillow, snoring as loud as he usually did. Maverick sighed, cupping his forehead with his palm.

“Okay Roo, I’m gonna go make some phone calls,” he whispered more to himself than to Bradley.

When his alarm went off the next morning Rooster groaned, smacking his phone twice with his hand and missing both times. The third time he attempted it the phone fell off his nightstand and clattered to the floor. He was kind of glad he’d put the hard shell case on it last week because he usually didn’t bother. Wincing at the alarm still going off, he carefully reached his arm down. He found the bucket first, unused luckily, before following the charging cord to his device and switching off the blaring alarm. He was surprised Maverick hadn’t come to check on him. He hesitantly swung his legs around, feet finding the cool hardwood floors. He winced, cupping his sensitive stomach.

That was a negative on breakfast, then. Hopefully he’d be able to keep a cup of coffee down. Despite brushing his teeth after the last bout, his mouth still tasted disgusting and he reached for his water bottle to take a sip and wake up. The water sank like lead in his stomach and he reached for the bucket when it threatened to make a reappearance. When it didn’t after a moment, he got up from his bed and searched for a clean uniform. Once he was dressed, he quietly made his way down the stairs. Maverick was still asleep, didn’t start for another two hours, which made it easy for Bradley to sneak out the front door with a travel mug of coffee in hand. If he knew Maverick, he would insist that Bradley stay home but he didn’t have time for that. They were on a deadline to refine these pilots, he and Jake, and he wasn’t going to let Jake make complete mince meat of them without him.

By the time Maverick was awake, the Bronco was pulling out of the drive and Maverick swore under his breath, scrambling for his phone. The display glaring back at him told him it was 5:28am. Way earlier than Bradley’s usual 8am start. Sighing he got out of bed, scrolling through his contacts before he found who he was looking for.

“Seresin.”

“Jake, if Bradley shows up you gotta get him to sickbay, capiche?”

“Sir, it’s... not even 6am.”

“Jake, you’re staying in base housing. It’s a two minute walk to the car park. You can send him to sickbay or you can hold him until I get there.”

There was groaning on the other end, and Maverick suddenly got the idea Jake may have been... previously occupied.

“Jake, your wingman needs you. Don’t leave him hanging.”

Silence.

“That was straight up cold, pops. Okay, I’m going. Should I wake up Cyclone too?”

“No, I’m on my way. I already texted him last night when Rooster got home.”

There was rustling on the other end, hushed whispers.

“Wait, sir, what’s wrong with Roos?”

“He’s overworked, exhausted and sick, Jake. He could probably do with a day in bed, but no, his mother’s stubbornness stops him from that.”

“Damn, I knew something was off yesterday. Okay, I’m heading out now.”

Jake hung up and Maverick scrambled into his uniform, getting the idea he was going to have to wrangle Bradley or wait until he was too sick to get into his jet. Whichever was easier, honestly.

Jake caught Bradley in the car park, trying to breathe through a bout of nausea in the driver’s seat. He tentatively opened the door, putting his hand on his shoulder.

“Just me, chill. Mav called, he’s worried ‘bout you. What’s going on?”

“I think I’m sick.”

“I gathered from the panicked phone call I just got. What hurts?”

“My stomach... and my head... fuck.”

Rooster turned, throwing up on the pavement by Jake’s boots. Jake winced, holding the back of his neck.

“Yeah, okay, Maverick didn’t give me much to work with but I got it now. Why have you been hiding this from me?”

“Because you would make those aviators quit, the way you’re going,” Rooster hissed, overtaken by the need to gag. Jake frowned.

“What?”

“Those aviators are assholes, okay, I- I- I get it. But they’re also just kids, and you’re scaring them. They need to learn but not in the way we’re teaching now.”

“And what, you couldn’t have called Tash, or Bob, or even Javy to take over for a day? They wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m gonna puke again.”

Sure enough Rooster doubled over and Jake narrowly missed getting his boots covered in barf.

“Okay Roo, I hear you. I’ll go easier. God, why didn’t you say something sooner? I had no idea you were this worked up about it.”

Maverick’s Jeep wheeled into the lot and Rooster winced, scrubbing at his eyes where tears were threatening to leak from the gagging, but also the humiliation of being caught by Hangman, of all people. Jake didn’t move, rubbing his hand over Bradley’s back as Maverick jogged over.

“Thanks, Hangman. You can go back to whoever was in your bed now.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s real sexy to return smelling like barf.”

Maverick put his hand to Bradley’s forehead, frowning.

“Okay, you need sleep and fluids. Maybe Tylenol too, if I can find some.”

“Mav...”

“I know kid, I know you’re stressed, but that’s how you got here in the first place. Deep breaths, shhhh...”

[kinglazrus]

In Case of Emergency

Chapter 8: Familiar Yet Not the Same

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Chapter Summary: Lancer worries about a different Danny while the boy in question endears himself to yet another medical professional, even if he isn't aware of it.

Chapter word count: 2805

—

How does one go about finding a ghost? William doesn't have an answer to that question, but he needs one. He can't forget Phantom's face right before he disappeared. So much panic in his eyes. If William's assumption is right, he can't blame the boy. How must a secret like that weigh on someone so young? He has other concerns, too. What happened to Phantom to make him like this? Does he have a family that thinks he's dead? As an avid reader, a hundred explanations pass through his mind: experiment gone wrong, accident, someone who died but didn't stay gone. Experiment gone right. That last one makes him shudder.

The questions keep William awake all night. By the time his morning alarm goes off, his eyes burn from the lack of sleep. He is tempted to call out of work, so emotionally drained from yesterday's events, but he can't do that to his students. Plus, if he goes in, there's a chance he could see Phantom. It's slim, especially after last night, but not impossible. At the very least, he would like to catch a glimpse of Phantom, just enough to know if he's okay.

William hopes he is taking his meds and resting as Dr. Alejo instructed. He should speak to her some time today. Phantom being alive changes a lot when it comes to his treatment, or so William assumes. The dead can't die again, but Phantom can.

"Please be okay," William whispers to himself on his drive to work.

—

The school day begins normally. William doesn't have a class during the first period, so he decides to spend the hour in the office, taking care of some administrative matters. He has some messages from fussy parents, book orders to go over for next semester, and the librarian wants to start an afterschool program. Principal Ishiyama has the final say on every task, but William likes to go through everything himself before passing it along to her.

He sits with the secretary rather than in his private office. She is good company, even if they spend most of the time working in silence. Halfway through the period, the silence breaks.

"Note?" Ella says.

William doesn't look up from his work until he hears a ragged voice reply.

"Hi, Mrs. Carrol. I don't have one."

Danny Fenton stands in front of the administrative desk, head bowed. If William thought he sounded bad, he looks even worse. Bags under his eyes, a pallor to his skin. It's a humid day, thanks to the rain yesterday and the storm they are expecting again tonight. Too hot for anything other than t-shirts and shorts, but Danny wears a dark hoodie and baggy sweatpants. Despite how much Danny has grown over the years, he has yet to reach his father's great height. The hoodie—Fenton brand—looks several sizes too large for him. It makes William think of a child playing dress-up with his father's clothes.

"Are you sick, Mr. Fenton?" William asks.

Danny's head whips toward him, eyes blown wide. He takes a step back toward the door, a reaction that shocks William. He likes to think that he and Danny get along fairly well for a teacher and student, even if he does have to reprimand the boy from time to time. He wasn't lying yesterday when he said Danny is his favourite student. Only last week Danny had come to William during his spare for help on his poli sci essay.

Danny drops his stare after a moment, lowering his gaze to the floor. "I'm fine. Didn't sleep well."

"I see. Is that why you're"—William checks the clock—"twenty minutes late to school?"

Danny nods.

"With no note." Ella's voice is stern. "I told you to make sure you have a note next time."

"I remember," Danny mumbles.

William rises from his seat. "It's alright, Mrs. Carrol. He clearly isn't feeling well. I'm sure we can give him a pass this once."

Ella scowls. "Pardon me, Mr. Lancer, but Danny Fenton has the most tardies out of any student in Casper High, probably since the school first opened. He has gotten enough passes."

William reaches out to set a hand on Danny's shoulder, but the boy flinches away. William's hand hangs in the air a moment before he lowers it back to his side and tucks it in his pocket as if that's what he meant to do all along.

"It's fine. Mrs. Carrol," William insists.

She drops the subject, although the scowl doesn't leave her face. As William ushers Danny out of the office, he hears the secretary mutter, "That boy isn't worth the trouble." The door falls shut behind them.

"You didn't have to do that," Danny says.

"And yet, I did."

"That's the problem, isn't it?" Danny mutters.

William raises an eyebrow at that remark but holds his tongue. Danny had spoken under his breath and didn't mean for William to overhear. The comment stings, but Danny is going through something right now. William can let it slide.

"What class do you have right now?" he asks instead.

"Health, I think. Or gym. I don't know if it's a gym day."

"It is."

Danny groans.

"Mr. Fenton, if you're not feeling well, you should go to the nurse. Or I could call your parents for you."

"No!" Danny finally meets William's eyes. "You can't tell them!"

"Inside voice," William reprimands out of habit. He stops in his tracks when he finally registers Danny's words. "Is something wrong at home?"

"No. Yes. Sort of." Danny scuffs his shoe on the floor. It looks like he has gone back to avoiding eye contact. "I just don't want to disappoint them."

It's a common feeling among many of William's students. He checks the time on his phone. "There's fifteen minutes before next period. Why don't you go sit in the nurse's office until the bell? Gym class is all about physical health, after all. It wouldn't do to have you straining yourself, especially when you've already missed this most of the period."

"Are you sure?"

"It's enough time for a half-decent nap."

"I don't need that," Danny insists. He grimaces and presses a hand against his chest. "Maybe I do. Thanks, Mr. L." He heads off toward the nurse's office, leaving a stunned William behind him. Something about the way Danny said that just now... he shakes his head. Leaps of thought, while helpful at times, can also be a scholar's worst enemy. Nothing can set you up for failure more than making assumptions without concrete evidence. Still, he can't help but watch Danny limp out of sight.

—

William returns to the office.

"Ella, can you call Sam Manson and Tucker Foley down?" he asks the secretary. "And have Mr. Falluca cover the start of my next period. There are some workbooks in my desk drawer that he can hand out to the students."

"Yes, sir," Ella says. Her voice rings out over the intercom. "Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley are to report to the front office immediately. Manson and Foley to the office."

Two minutes pass before the first of them arrives. Looking through the window in his door, William watches Tucker trudge into the office, backpack over his shoulder. Ella points him towards William's office and Tucker's face falls. By the time Tucker slips through the door, William is seated at his desk.

"Mr. Foley," William greets him.

"Hey, Mr. Lancer. Uh, if this is about that virus in the computer lab, I swear it wasn't on purpose. And I fixed it right away!" Tucker says.

"I wasn't aware of any virus on the computer lab."

"Oh. Don’t worry about it, then." Tucker slinks toward one of the two available seats in front of William's desk. He shoves his backpack under the chair and gets comfortable, crossing his legs on the seat. "Am I in trouble or something?"

"Let's wait until Ms. Manson gets here before we begin."

A few minutes pass before William's door opens again and Sam ducks her way inside.

"Sorry. Gym was outside today; someone had to come and get me," Sam says.

"Was he..." Tucker asks.

Sam shakes her head.

"Mr. Fenton is in the nurse's office," William says, hazarding a guess at who they are talking about.

Sam jumps to William's desk, slamming her hands down. "He's here? Is he hurt?"

"He insisted that he's fine, just tired. I sent him to the nurse's office to wait out the rest of the period."

Sam glances and Tucker and the two of them exchange nods. William suspects Danny will be in for an earful the next time he sees his friends.

"So, why are we here?" Sam takes the seat beside Tucker.

William carefully considers how to say what he wants to say. Technically speaking, what he wants to ask them isn't appropriate. Danny said his piece and, as a teacher and authority figure, there are steps for William to take if he has concerns about Danny's home life. But there's something about the situation that bothers him. He has to be sure before he does anything drastic.

"I'm aware that Daniel is..." He searches for the right word but can't find it. "There are things going on in his life that most people are not privy to, but they see the results of those things and make assumptions. I would like to avoid that."

He watches their reactions carefully. Tucker's hand slips into his pocket, where he likely has some kind of electronic device. He doesn't pull it out, just grabs it in his hand and squeezes it tightly. Knowing Tucker's affinity for technology, it's not a reach for William to assume this is some kind of comforting action. Sam, meanwhile, straightens in her seat and lifts her chin. She looks very much like her mother at that moment, nose turned up, eyes criticizing. Unfortunately for Sam, William has had plenty of experience dealing with her mother and that stare is not as effective as she thinks.

"I know what kind of person Daniel's sister was. She would not, under any circumstances, put up with him being injured in their home. But he is injured. You three think you hide it well, but you don't. All I ask is that you watch out for him. And remember that there are adults you can trust, myself being one of them. I would like to help if I can, but I need you to meet me halfway."

Having said his piece, William leans back in his chair and folds his hands over his lap.

"Take a moment and think it over."

They take several, waiting out the last few minutes of the period. Neither Sam nor Tucker say anything, but they exchange loaded looks, speaking without words the way only the closest friends can. Even if nothing comes of this meeting, William is glad he can at least see that Danny has some kind of support system. The boy needs one. Not unlike another Danny that he knows.

"We don't know what you're talking about," Tucker says after a long silence.

William expected this, but he still feels disappointed. He makes sure the two students before him know as much, giving them his best disapproving frown. Sam remains unmoved. Tucker squirms.

"But... if we did—"

"Tucker!" Sam hisses.

"—if we did know what you're talking about, which we absolutely don't because Danny has never even gotten a paper cut—"

Sam slaps her hand against her face.

"—we would tell you that Danny is okay. Things can be rough sometimes, but he's always okay in the end." Tucker bites his lip and looks away.

"I see." William mulls over Tucker's words. Considering the circumstances—William could face serious repercussions for calling students down to ask about another's home life—he appreciates that Tucker gave him anything at all. "Thank you for speaking with me. I won't hold you back from class any longer. Mrs. Carrol can write you both notes to explain why you're late. Just don't forget what I said."

"Don't worry, Mr. Lancer. We won't." Sam's tone is not a polite one, yet it comforts William. Danny has good friends by his side.

"That's all I ask."

They enter the main office just in time to see Ella hanging up the phone. She eyes Sam and Tucker for a moment before focusing on William, wearing a look that screams I told you so. "That was Mr. Falluca. He said Danny Fenton hasn't arrived at his second-period class, your class, even though I said he would be there."

She looks upon them with triumph in her eyes.

"I bet he never even went to the nurse's office. Want me to call?"

"I'll go down there myself," William says. It seems he has to amend his earlier statement. Ella Carrol is good company only some of the time. Right now, he's a little sick of her voice, and her face. And pretty much everything about her. "Please write up notes for Mr. Foley and Ms. Manson here to excuse them for being late."

"We want to check on Danny with you!" Sam says.

"I'm sure he just fell asleep. Everything is fine. You can see him at lunch, or whenever your next shared period is."

Neither one looks happy about it, but they don't protest further. William nods to Ella before he leaves—he doesn't want to be rude—and heads for the nurse. He knocks on the door and enters. The school nurse, Anthony Wyatt, sits at his desk going through some papers. He looks up when William clears his throat and sits straighter.

"Mr. Lancer, can I do something for you?" he asks.

"Just here checking on a student."

Anthony points over his shoulder with his thumb. "Danny said you sent him down. I told him to take a bed until his next class. The kid must be pretty tired. He hasn't made a peep since."

"He didn't leave when the bell went?"

"The bell went?" Anthony tilts back in his chair and checks the clock above the door. "Oh, geez. I didn't even notice. I probably didn't even hear him go."

"Mr. Falluca said he never made it to class."

Anthony kicks off the floor, rolling his chair to the doorway that separates his office from the patient room. William follows him, peeking through the arch to look inside. A privacy curtain is pulled around the furthest bed, but it doesn't cover the whole thing, leaving Danny's red sneakers exposed.

"Must have fallen asleep," Anthony says. "Poor kid. Looks like he has it rough, you know? I kind of want to leave him to it."

As an adult in Danny's life, William agrees. As an educator... he still agrees. It's hard to do well in school when you have poor mental health. But, as the vice-principal, he should check and see if Danny is up for going to class at all that day. Just to say he tried if Ishiyama feels the need to ask why he let Danny skip all day.

"Mr. Fenton?" William asks, keeping his voice low just in case. "Are you asleep?"

Danny doesn't stir. Even when William reaches the bed and draws back the curtain, he remains oblivious. William sighs. There's no harm in letting Danny sleep one day away. He needs it. He will have to call the Fentons about this, though. If Danny is so exhausted that he needs to sleep at school then something has to change at home. They can't let this become a regular thing.

Now he has an insurmountable task ahead of him: figure out how to tell the Fentons that they need to pay more attention to their son without sounding rude. He doesn't know if he can manage it. First, however, he has a class to take over. Falluca must have things he needs to get done during his free period and William doesn't want to keep him away from that any longer.

He should go.

But he doesn't.

His feet stay grounded despite knowing he should move. Something about this situation is familiar. A sense of déjà vu washes over him. It takes him far too long to figure out what's wrong. When he does, everything seems to slow down while his mind works in overdrive. William feels like he's moving through molasses as he throws himself forward. He notices everything. The harshness of the lights above him. The squeak of his shoes on the tile. The panicked breaths leaving his body quicker and quicker. The still, so still, too still form of Danny Fenton.

William presses two fingers to the side of Danny's neck and feels nothing.

"Call an ambulance!" he cries to the nurse. His body moves on instinct, pushing Danny onto his back and starting chest compressions. "He has no pulse!"

—

Next

[mimisempai]

In wine, there is truth

Summary:

Loki challenges Thor that Mobius is worthy of holding Mjolnir... Result of the challenge: A drunk Mobius and a shovel talk from Thor... Don’t you say, in wine there is truth...?

Notes:

Someone asked me on Tumblr how I thought Mobius could be if he was drunk + me messing with photoshop to put Mjolnir in Mobius' hands = this crazy little story :p

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33165526

1575 words - Rating G

"Mobius! Mobius! Mobius!"

What am I doing here? Damn Loki!

Thor's friends chanted his name, Loki looked at him with a malicious smile and Thor with a worried look.

And he, Mobius, had his hand on the handle of Mjolnir just because Loki could not help challenging his brother.

"Whoever is worthy of the hammer shall have the power!"

Thor said this in the grandiloquent tone that was his at times, twirling his hammer at the end of his hand as if it were a simple carpentry tool.

Loki stepped forward and said to him with a defiant smile, "I know someone who is worthy." He pulled Mobius in front of him.

Mobius immediately replied, "No, no, not at all."

Loki had taken on a serious look and said softly, "But I'm sure you do."

Under the cheers, Mobius inwardly pestering, closed his eyes, grabbed the handle and pulled, about to put all his strength into it, knowing that he would never be able to lift it.

Suddenly the cheering had died down and instead he heard only gasps.

He opened an eye to see that he had lifted Mjolnir four inches above the ground.

He lifted his arm again, and soon he had the hammer in the air and the gasps turned into shouts of joy and laughter.

He saw Thor smile, but saw his smile widen when he put the hammer down.

Loki simply said as he clenched his fist, "I knew it, I knew it."

Thor stood up and walked towards him. Mobius could not help but gulp as his presence was so imposing. Loki sensed his distress and moved closer to him with a protective attitude.

But Thor's face widened with a big smile, "Mobius! My friend! My brother! Let's celebrate with some good wine! Let's all celebrate! My future brother-in-law is worthy of the hammer!"

He put one arm around Mobius and the other around Loki and led them to the banquet hall.

**********

Much later Loki supported a very drunk Mobius to enter their suite in Asgard. It was the first time he had seen his lover drunk and the experience was entertaining to say the least.

Mobius was trying to lift Loki's tunic, his movements unsteady due to the alcohol.

"Why are you wearing so much clothing?" Mobius whined.

Loki had to restrain himself from laughing, "You want to take them off me?"

Mobius slowly nodded, "But I can't do it then, I'll just lift them up and take you there."

"You're barely able to stand, love," Loki replied, trying to drag a staggering Mobius toward the living room, " First of all I'm going to give you something to keep you from feeling sick after all the mead you've ingested."

"I don't feel sick," Mobius complained, letting Loki push him back to the couch.

"Right now, you're not. But wait, in a few hours you're going to hate everything."

"Not you," said Mobius, pouting, "I could never hate you.  I love you."

Loki smiled fondly as he gently ran his fingers through Mobius' hair, "So do I, but I'm still going to get you some water."

Loki went to get a glass of water, returned quickly, and got Mobius to drink, who was sitting on the couch, or rather slumped over.

He sat down next to him and asked, "Did you at least have fun?"

"Yeah, Thor's great, and so are his friends Sif, Fandral, Hogun, and Vals- uh V-Volstagg." said Mobius, stuttering from the alcohol "They're all really really really cooool."

"I wonder if I should be mad at my brother for getting you drunk like that or be jealous of the fact that you love Thor and his friends."

Mobius put his arms around his neck and sat astride Loki and began to kiss him all over, "Noooo, don't be jealous sweetheart, you know I only love you, only you."

"Okay, okay," Loki chuckled. He definitely loved Mobius under the influence of alcohol.

Mobius continued, and while nibbling on Loki's ear, he whispered to him, "They are cool, but you are super cool, you are my super cool boyfriend.

"Really?" replied Loki, amused.

"Mmhmm. But Thor is cool too, and do you know why?"

"Clearly not. Enlighten me love?" Loki couldn't help the little twinge of jealousy. They had reconciled and Loki, thanks to Mobius and his constant support had managed to get past the old grudges, but every now and then it came back to bite him.

Mobius, who seemed to have perceived his change in mood despite his inebriation, kissed him on the forehead and whispered, "Don't sulk... he's cool because he said I was his brother-in-law."

"Oh... Oh." realized Loki, who then gulped as he wondered what Mobius would remember the next day.

"So I was wondering..." continued Mobius, "...when my future husband was going to take me to bed."

Loki choked, and as he lifted Mobius up and took him to their room, he wondered if he would like Mobius to remember or forget.

Then he whispered into Mobius' ear, "I'm taking you to bed to sleep, like I told you, you're too drunk to do anything, and I'd rather you remember that tomorrow if we do anything."

They arrived in the room and Loki put Mobius gently on the bed.

Once on the bed, Mobius immediately began to undress, throwing his clothes everywhere and Loki watched him with amusement.

Once almost naked, wearing only his briefs, Mobius held out his hands to Loki with an adorable pout, "Come join me sweetheart."

"Yeah I'm coming but we're not going to do anything.", Loki said, stripping off his clothes as Mobius did before, sliding in next to him and covering them up.

"Don't you want me?" Mobius whimpered with puppy dog eyes that Loki had never seen before and that made him want to send his virtue flying, but he held his ground and reassured his lover anyway.

"Of course I want it. I still want you love, but not while you're drunk. Tomorrow, when you're sober, I promise I'll show you how much I want you."

Mobius pouted and then smiled, snuggling up to Loki, his head resting on Loki's chest, "I still want you too..." then after a time of silence he whispered, clearly falling asleep, "my future husband."

Loki whose heart leapt in his chest, placed a kiss on Mobius hair, an loving smile on his face and said with a tight throat, "If you ask me, I will say yes."

**********

Bam! Bam! Bam!

The loud knocks on the door echoed throughout their apartment, even rattling the glass on the nightstand.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Loki growled, pulling away from Mobius.

Mobius whimpered, clinging to him. Loki kissed him on the forehead and whispered, "Go back to sleep. I'll see what it is and be right back."

Loki just pulled on a shirt over his boxers, not bothering to button it, he suspected who the person knocking on the door was and had no desire to make any effort.

He opened the door and as his doubt was confirmed, he sighed, "Thor.

Thor opened his mouth but Loki stopped him with one hand, "Mobius is still sleeping. So you're going to calm down and speak softly, okay?"

Thor nodded and said, "Little brother, we need to have a serious talk.

"Oh?"

Loki beckoned him in and they sat down face to face in the living room.

Loki waited for Thor to start talking.

He cleared his throat, "Loki. Mobius is a good person. Even Mjolnir has acknowledged him. So I'm here to tell you that if you ever hurt him in any way, physically or emotionally, so help me gods, I will bring down lightning on you. And before you get offended, I gave him the same speech about you last night. I told him that if he ever hurt my little brother, there was no timeline where he could hide, I would find him. Don't ruin what's between you. It's precious, even me, your idiot big brother can see how much you adore each other."

Loki, embarrassed, asked him a little abruptly, "Are you finished?" then, softening, he added, "Thank you. You may not believe it, but I really have changed, or rather, thanks to Mobius, I am finally who I want to be. So I promise you that I will do anything to preserve that."

"I'm sure you will." said Thor as he stood up and pulled Loki into one of his skeleton-crushing, breath-stopping brotherly embraces.

Then Thor whispered to him in a tone that was meant to be threatening, "Lightning...my lightning...on you" before turning away and leaving, closing the door behind him.

Loki walked back into the room, grinning.

"Who was that?" asked Mobius, sitting against the headboard and watching Loki join him.

"Thor. He came to give me a, what would you call, a shovel talk?"

"Huh?...I remember him giving me one last night, but is it an Asgardian tradition to give one to your brother?"

Loki chuckled and put his arm around Mobius' chest, "No, but my brother knows my propensity for messing up my relationships so..."

Mobius reached over and took his chin, "Not anymore sweetheart, not anymore." then pressed a tender kiss to Loki's mouth.

He then followed the line of Loki's jaw, then his cheek, to his ear where he whispered, "I remember everything I said last night... my future husband."

________

Series of Oneshot : Together, for all time, always

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

[ithebookhoarder]

Your sleepy head canons for the SW trio were adorable! Can I pretty please ask what the original star wars babies would be like with a sick reader? I just need some cuteness in my life right now and I'm rewatching the movies so yeah...

A/N: Um, yes you can! One fluffy dose of OG star wars coming up. 

Star Wars (Head-canons): Dealing with a sick reader

Masterlist:

Han:

This man is a marshmallow on the inside, even if years alone in the smuggling game has ensured that it’s deeply hidden away beneath that stoicism and devil-may-care attitude. 

You are one of the only people in the entire galaxy he lets see his softer side, whether it’s his casual affection during the day on the Falcon, or his little thoughtful gestures like fetching you caff when you’re flying or working your ass off on repairs. 

It’s why he’s actually rather sweet to you when you’re sick, ordering Chewie to take over whatever you were meant to be doing so you can get some rest.

“Han. I’m fine. It’s just a sniffle. I’ll live.”

“I know that, princess, but I don’t need you breaking my ship because you’re too busy coughing and sneezing to see what wires you’re tinkering with.”

You laugh, knowing his sass is his way of hiding the worry that’s brewing inside of him at the sight of you coughing and spluttering around the place. So, you surrender your tools to him and allow him to help you back to your quarters. It’s that or letting him drag you there over his shoulder, like some kind of deranged caveman. 

Once you get to your room, you half expect him to leave you there to fend for yourself, but you’re surprised to see him hovering around you, already working out a list of supplies. 

“You should lie down. I’ll grab ya some of that fancy tea you like so damn much.”

“Thanks, hon.”

“Do you need anything else? What about some more blankets? Some pillows? I can grab Chewie’s. He doesn’t need it-“

Who knew Han Solo could be such a secret mother hen?

Turns out, with all his travels, he knows a thing or two about fending off a cold. It’s actually rather cute. 

You’re too busy trying not to laugh to say no as he hurries about the place and effectively builds you a nest in your shared quarters. He’s also glued to your side, leaving his Wookie first mate in charge while he sees to your every need, even if it’s just holding you while you sleep off whatever it is that’s taken you down.  

“I told you you needed a better coat on that planet but nooo your stubborn ass said you didn’t need one.”

“Han. Stop. I didn’t catch this cold there.”

“Where else would you have caught it?”

“Things just happen. It’s ok.”

Han definitely doesn’t think it’s ok, but he doesn’t want to tire you out for arguing over something dumb. You’re just as stubborn as he is and arguments between you two have been known to go on for days sometimes. 

Instead, he agrees to disagree for now. As long as you rest and get better then everything else doesn’t matter. 

However, the next time you plan to leave the ship he just so happens to be waiting by the ramp, a thick, chunky coat in his hand. And a hat. And gloves. 

He grins and presses a kiss to your frowning face as you waddle out, almost suffocating but willing to endure for his sake and as a thank you for all his care the past week.

You also make a mental note to repay the favour next time he gets a little under the weather. You’re sure Chewie would enjoy the sight of his captain haggling with clients, while swaddled in knitwear. 

Luke:

Coming from a desert planet, Luke doesn’t know too much about handling things like colds. He’s more used to handling dehydration, sunburn, malnutrition or even the odd blaster wound or two from Jawas.

However, once joining the Rebellion, he learns pretty quickly after being struck down with surprising regularity. He’s an old friend to  colds and other conditions common on other planets and in space. 

That’s actually how he meets you, always being ordered to stop by the Med Bay by Leia the minute he starts sneezing. 

“I don’t need you spreading the plague, Luke,” she sighs, ushering him over to you and ordering him to let you take care of him. “You may be some mighty Jedi but even Jedis get sick.” 

You actually enjoy getting to spend time with Luke when he’s sick, and sharing your knowledge about cures and ways to avoid catching diseases in the first place. Luke also enjoys listening to you, admiring how clever you are and how kind, and careful, you are when handling patients. 

Thus, when you eventually get sick, he’s only too eager to return the favour. It’s time for him to take care of you, even if he knows you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself. 

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should, Y/N. Let me help you. Please?”

You smile, agreeing as he takes up residence at your bedside for the next few days. Turns out, he actually has a tender bedside manner, and is incredibly good at keeping you distracted when you get fed up of being on bedrest. 

He’s also incredibly aware of changes in mood or your condition, sensing them through the force before you even do. Hence why he’s by your side the moment you take a bad turn, despite him being half way across the base for training.

If he’s out of breath then that’s just a coincidence cause nooooo, he didn’t run here. No. He was right outside and just so happened to be coming in when you needed him most. 

“Luke? What the-?”

“Here. I brought soup and some more pain killers from the med bay.” 

You take his offerings, grinning in delight as the smell of food hits your nose. “Hmm, my saviour.”

His smile is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen as is his blushing cheeks. “I’m just taking care of you. Who else is going to nurse me back to health next time I’m the one who’s sick?”

“Anything for my favourite farm-boy.” 

“Your farm-boy.”

His kiss as he settles in bed beside you is almost enough to make you feel better all on its own. 

Leia:

Like mother, like daughter, this woman is a public servant. She may also be a workaholic, but she has her priorities in order and you come before whatever meetings or plans she has for the day.

In fact, the first time you got sick and didn’t tell her, she was hurt. It was C3-PO that had outed you, saying something about you being in your rooms and unable to join in the meeting scheduled that morning when asked where you were. (You knew you shouldn’t have trusted that golden tin can) 

Leia had been on you in seconds, bursting in your room and yelling at you for a whole hour about how stupid it was to suffer in silence. 

“We have medical staff, Y/N, for this exact reason! You’d rather lie here in pain, suffering, when you could have called someone? Or even me? Don’t tell me you’ve been around Han too much, Maker knows I don’t need two stubborn idiots on this base.”

“I love you too, Your Majesty.”

“Shut up or I’ll tell threepio to come and watch you.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” 

She would dare, but you were more than happy to put up with the lecture, however, given that she was busy wiping at your brow and tucking you in whilst yelling. That, and you had enough of a headache without threepio making worse. 

It felt rather surreal to think you had royalty waiting on you hand and foot - even if Leia would have yelled again if you said that to her face. She loved you more than anything and made sure to tell you at least once a day. She wasn’t just a princess, she was your partner and that was all that mattered. 

Needless to say, you’d learnt your lesson; whenever you got sick again, you made sure to let Leia know you weren’t feeling great. 

That way she could make sure to keep an eye on you, or assign someone to do so when she was dragged from your side for some super urgent meeting she couldn’t avoid any longer. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Leia. Go. You’re needed. I can survive an hour or so without you, but we all know this base won’t if you don’t get your ass over to mission control.” 

“You have a good point.” 

You chuckle as she steals a kiss before hurrying off to her duties. By the time you wake up from your nap, she’s back again and curled up next to you, watching you out of the corner of her eye whilst she works on the pad in her lap. 

She also sings you little lullabies when you’re sick and can’t sleep. They’re all songs her parents sang to her whenever she got sick as a kid. That alone makes you feel better, sharing something so private with her. 

Long story short, you may hate being sick, but you don’t hate being sick with Leia around to love and care for you. 

[inkedstarlight]

Bittersweet: Chapter Nine

Summary: Cassian and Nesta finally meet. Officially, this time. Let the romance commence. Notes: Read it here on AO3! Warnings: very brief/non-explicit mention of sexual assault Bittersweet Masterlist

“Earth to Nesta?”

Nesta snapped from her trance to see Emerie waving a hand in front of her face.

“You’ve been cleaning the same spot for a good ten minutes,” Emerie gestured to where Nesta was scrubbing the counter with a towel. It was squeaky clean.

Nesta let go of the towel and cleared her throat. “My bad.”

Emerie pulled out the chair on the other side of the counter and sat down. It was eleven in the evening on a Monday, and they had just closed. The only other person in Rita’s was Lucien, and he was doing dishes in the back.

“You’ve been acting weird for the past two weeks,” Emerie stated blatantly. Her stare was unwavering. “And you’ve lost at least ten pounds.”

The incidence with Tomas happened two weeks ago. Nesta was doing a pretty good job of moving on with her life all things considered. She felt like shit, but she hadn’t missed a single shift at work. That had to count for something.

But she should’ve known Emerie would notice. She was like a fucking hawk, that girl. She saw everything.

When Nesta didn’t say anything, Emerie shrugged and got up from the stool. “At least try a little harder,” she said, referring to the coworkers’ challenge to get the most tips. She shot Nesta a sad look. “Thesan is beating you. Thesan.”

Nesta mustered a laugh. Thesan wasn’t great with customers, that was common knowledge. Neither Emerie nor Nesta were people persons, but they knew how to turn it on for customers. Thesan, on the other hand, didn’t make much of an effort. It wasn’t that he was intentionally rude, the guy was just quiet in nature. In fact, he was quite a sweetheart.

Which was why it was quite entertaining to watch Thesan and Helion interact. Where Thesan was an introvert, Helion was loud as hell. Not to mention it was clear that Thesan was crushing on him. But unfortunately, Helion flirted with every living, breathing thing and was thus completely oblivious. During Nesta’s first week at Rita’s, Emerie had spilled all the tea about their coworkers. Thesan was head over heels in love with Helion, Helion had never been in a monogamous relationship, and Viviane… well, Viviane had her own little love story. A complicated one at that.

His name was Kallias. They grew up together, from scheming little kids to rebellious teenagers to young adults. Best friends since they could remember.

Because Emerie grew up in the same small town as them, she knew everything. They all went to school together. She knew that Kallias had been in love with Viviane since freshman year of high school. She knew that Viviane felt the same way, but she would never admit it thanks to the hell she was put through during her childhood. Nesta didn’t know the specifics, and she never asked.

It also didn’t help that Viviane was in a relationship with someone else. They’d been together for almost two years. Emerie thought Viviane deserved better, that he wasn’t a very good person.

Anyway, Kallias visited Rita’s nearly every weekend after his shift at the fire station to grab a drink and more importantly, see Viviane.

Nesta thought it was ridiculous. She’d told Emerie as much when she’d brought Nesta up to date on their coworkers’ lives. Why wouldn’t they just admit they loved each other and get on with it already? It was pretty fucking simple; they were just making it complicated for themselves. Emerie wholeheartedly agreed and the pair then went on an hour long rant on the idiocy of romantic relationships.

And if she was being honest, Nesta didn’t care much about these people. Sure, they were respectable but they were a temporary fixture in her life. Once she secured a job in her career field, she was going to leave them all behind.

“We should get a drink sometime. Outside of work,” Emerie clarified with a look of disgust. “I’m sick of it here.”

Nesta knew that was a lie based on the relationship Emerie had with Rita and her wife. But she didn’t say that.

“Maybe,” Nesta responded distractedly, desperate to think of an excuse. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Emerie; no, Nesta liked her coworker. She just couldn’t muster the energy to go out with friends or socialize like that. “I’m pretty busy right now though.”

Emerie narrowed her eyes and scrutinized her.

“Stop analyzing me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Emerie sighed and receded. She hesitated before saying quietly, “Is… is this the part when I ask if you’re okay and we get all deep and explore a new level of our friendship?”

Nesta slowly met her friend’s gaze. They stared at one another for several moments.

Then, they burst out laughing.

-------------------------

The next morning, Nesta was brewing her third cup of coffee when Elain padded into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Elain yawned as a greeting. She wore bunny slippers and an oversized hoodie. Elain only had one evening class on Tuesdays, so today was her only day - save for the weekend - to sleep in.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“How long have you been up?”

Nesta glanced at the clock. It was nine-thirty. She’d woken up at six after a sleepless night of tossing and turning.

But she simply shrugged instead. “Not long.”

Nesta poured the coffee into her mug, sitting back down at the counter. She watched as Elain bustled around the kitchen, scrambling eggs and slicing fruit. The morning light spilled through the dusty kitchen sink window, bars of sunshine reflecting off the tiled floors. Iroh basked in the sunspots, his black fur glistening as his chartreuse eyes blinked closed.

Elain and Nesta hadn’t spent much time together in the past couple weeks. It was Nesta’s doing, of course. She was actively avoiding her sister and everyone else. After Elain had tried to talk to Nesta after the whole thing with Tomas, she stopped asking Nesta if she was okay. Nesta assumed that Elain realized she wasn’t going to get an answer, that there wasn't really a point in trying.

But Gods, Nesta fucking missed her. And even though she wanted nothing more than to retreat to her bedroom as she sat there in the kitchen, she didn’t move from the chair.

You need them as much as they need you, her father’s voice echoed in her head.

Guilt stabbed at her chest.

“How’re classes going?” Nesta asked quietly. Elain looked at her over her shoulder with a surprised yet pleasant smile.

“Great! I’m so grateful to be at such a great college, but…” Elain bit her lip, hesitating. “My bio lab is going to be the death of me."

“You know you’re allowed to complain, right?”

Elain just gave her a smile. “Yeah, I know. It's just, considering where I was a year ago, I couldn't be happier to finally be enrolled in such a prestigious program. Even if that means the classes are brutal."

I wish I was like you. I take everything for granted.

“And have you made any friends?”

Elain had started school at Pryth U months ago and yet Nesta had no idea if she even had friends yet.

Selfish bitch.

A fond smile broke out on Elain’s face. “Yes, I have this really great group of friends: Lucien, Ressina, and Varian. It's just the four of us, but we've gotten really close.”

Nesta asked Elain more questions before excusing herself back to her room, claiming she was going to try to write today, to which Elain squealed and wished her luck.

Nesta hadn't written since their dad died. Prior to his death, she would write nearly every day. She'd been working on a novel for years. The plot had came to her in middle school, and it just grew from there. She'd never told anyone about it. Everyone knows how fucking hard it is to get your writing published, much less get high ratings. Nesta wasn't even sure if she was going to finish it. This was the longest she'd gone without writing or editing it. And she had a feeling that she wouldn't ever go back to it.

Dread filled her stomach as she thought of that prospect. What the fuck was she doing with her life?

Nesta’s phone buzzed, and she fished it out of her back pocket.

 Incoming call from Feyre Archeron.

It kept buzzing, Nesta merely stared at her sister's name on her screen. She couldn't think of a single reason why Feyre would be calling. But she pressed "Accept" before it could go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

Silence.

“Uh, what’s up?” Nesta asked. She collapsed onto her unmade bed. Iroh scampered past the door and jumped on the bed with her. He didn't waste a minute curling himself around her head.

"I was calling to see… maybe, I don’t know… uh, would you want to come to dinner tonight?”

I was not expecting that. And Nesta was about 95% sure this was Elain’s doing.

“Why?”

“I want you there," Feyre told her as if it were obvious.

“Why?” Nesta asked again. She hadn't seen Feyre since Thanksgiving despite her sister living just on the outskirts of the city.

That had been weeks ago.

“It's complicated," Feyre responded quietly. She seemed to pause before finding the words. "I've been so worried about Cassian, we all have. He'd never been deployed for that long - five months. It was scary. I guess I took that out on you. I don't know why..."

She drifted off. Nesta held her breath.

"I'm sure Elain told you, but he's home now. I've been more myself since he returned, and I want you to come to dinner. I… miss you.”

She rubbed her temple. “I don’t know, Feyre.”

I don't know if I can pretend to be okay for an entire night. I don't know if you even fucking want me there or if you just feel obligated. I don't know if I can be in the same room as your douchebag boyfriend. I don't know if I can be surrounded by your friends, most of whom seem to dislike me. I don't know if I can behave like a normal fucking person.

I don't know.

“Please?” The plea was soft, quiet. It was like she was almost desperate. But for what?

Nesta looked out the window where a blue jay - their dad's favorite bird - was perched on a bare tree branch. The leaves had long ago fallen, leaving the world naked and vulnerable. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

-------------------------

Feyre embraced her with an awkward hug when Nesta and Elain walked into the house. Nesta patted her on the back lightly, uncomfortable with the physical touch. Luckily, no one else seemed incline to embrace her. Rhys actually seemed to make sure he was as far away as possible.

Elain, on the other hand, gave everyone a hug. Mor gave a laugh as she squeezed Elain back, Aurra watching them with a smile. Interestingly enough, when Elain greeted Azriel with a hug, his tanned cheeks glowed red. It was almost imperceptible, but Nesta noticed.

Feyre took a step back to assess her. Nesta could see the judgement in her sister's eyes as she took in Nesta's noticeably thinner body. Luckily, however, she wasn't given the chance to comment on it when Elain piped up, "Where's Cassian? Nesta still hasn't met him yet."

"He's running a bit late," Rhys answered, glancing down at his phone. "Should be here in about ten minutes."

Everyone began to make their way into the dining room and Nesta followed. However, she was quickly tugged to the side when Amren swooped in out of nowhere and basically dragged Nesta into the privacy of the hallway. She stopped, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at Nesta.

“Where have you been?” Amren demanded.

"What do you mean?" Nesta asked, playing dumb.

She hadn't spoken to Amren in a long time, even though they had each others' numbers. Even though Amren had repeatedly texted her, asking to get coffee or go for a walk or something else of the sorts. All of which went unanswered.

Amren rolled her eyes, and Nesta was convinced they went to the back of her head for a good minute. "Don't play dumb with me, Nesta."

“I don’t know, working?"

"Is that a question?" Amren rose a deadly brow.

Nesta huffed and mirrored Amren's angry stance. "Why are you interrogating me?"

“Because you've been radio silent for weeks. I had to ask Elain if you were still fucking alive," Amren explained. Then, she leaned in close like she didn't want anyone to hear. "I was worried about you, you bitch."

Nesta let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, okay? I've been busy. I do want to hang out, it's just that..." she trailed off.

"What? It's just that what?"

Nesta stared at the floor, unable to form words.

"Nesta, are you okay?" Amren asked, her voice softer.

Just tell her. Fucking tell her.

I was almost raped.

Just the thought was enough to make Nesta want to puke. She couldn't, it was too much and she wouldn't even be able to fucking say it and it's her fault, all her fault.

She breathed in through her nose and looked back up at Amren. She shot her the most fake smile she'd ever given. "I'm good. Seriously, I just got busy. It won't happen again."

Nesta saw the skepticism in Amren's eyes. But she conceded with a small sigh. "Well, don't do it again, okay? I seriously thought you were fucking murdered or some shit."

Nesta just nodded. Amren looked at her once more before gesturing with her chin back to the dining room. Nesta followed her.

When they rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Because sitting next to Feyre was the man who had tried to break into her apartment.

“Nesta!" Feyre exclaimed, calling her over from where she sat. "This is Cassian. Cassian, this is my sister, Nesta.”

Nesta simply stared at him like a deer in headlights and he stared at her, his lips parted in surprise. He was wearing a grey sweater, his long hair hanging down, no longer in a bun like it was the last time. He tucked it behind one ear.

"Are you stalking me or something?" Nesta said incredulously.

"I could ask you the same," Cassian retorted cheekily.

Feyre looked between them, a confused expression written on her face. "Do you guys know each other or something?"

"Something like that," Nesta mumbled.

Everyone's eyes were on them as they waited for an answer.

"Well as everyone knows, I live in the same building as Nesta and Elain," Cassian explained, waving a hand to the two sisters. "The other night, I got stupid drunk with a friend. He drove me back to my place and me, drunk off my fucking ass, tried to get into their apartment thinking it was mine."

The entire room erupted into laughter, Rhys choking on his food and Azriel looking up as if reasoning with the Gods.

"So when Nesta opened the door," Cassian continued, "she nearly beat me to death with a baseball bat."

Another round of laughter.

"Overreact much?"

Everyone's eyes flew to where Nesta sat. They seemed shocked. Nesta was too.

She didn't know why she said it, why she let it bother her. He was just so fucking frustrating, even his mere presence.

Cassian stuck his tongue out at her.

Feyre interrupted, her jaw agape. "You guys are acting like children."

Nesta got quiet after that. The conversation continued, thankfully taking the attention off her. As everyone laughed and conversed, Cassian looked over at her. His smile disappeared when he met Nesta's gaze. She just stared back at him, lips in a thin line. He seemed to try to gauge her reaction carefully, but her face was blank.

And so the night went on. Nesta didn't say another word after what happened. She avoided eye contact with Cassian. Avoided conversation with everyone.

It was half past eight when they all began clearing their dishes. Mor, Aurra, Azriel, and Cassian were all gathered in the kitchen cleaning up. Feyre and Rhys had excused themselves. It was just Nesta and Elain who remained in the dining room.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Nesta leaned over to whisper to Elain.

Elain nodded. "We'll head out right after, yeah?" She must've noticed the exhaustion in Nesta's face.

Nesta agreed, excusing herself from the table.

She walked down the hallway, peeking through every door to find the bathroom. She was about to push through a door on the left that was slightly cracked open when she heard voices coming from within.

“I’m worried about him. He’s not the same.” It was Feyre.

“He never is when he comes home, Feyre," Rhys said dejectedly. "It’s happened before. Cass just needs time.”

Cass.

Nesta tiptoed closer to the door, just enough for her to listen.

“No, what he needs is to see someone!”

“I’ve tried. He doesn’t want to go.”

“Try harder, Rhys!” Feyre cried, her tone frustrated.

“We can’t just force him to go, okay?”

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing? Do you even notice how lost your own fucking brother is? Do you even care?!”

Silence.

“Rhysand, I’m sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry. I know you care. More than anyone. I just… I don’t want to lose him.”

She heard them both breathing deeply.

“C’mere,” Rhys murmured. Nesta heard Feyre's footsteps as she presumably walked toward him.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Together.”

“Always, Feyre darling.”

They got quiet, probably embracing each other. Nesta crept away from their bedroom door and into the bathroom before they could find her.

------------------------------------

Elain and Nesta had just unlocked their apartment door when Nesta groaned. “Oh, shit, I forgot my wallet in the car." She fished around in her bag to make sure it wasn't in there. "I’ll be right back.”

"I'll leave the door unlocked," Elain called behind her as Nesta made her way to the elevator.

She stepped between the doors, hitting the button for the parking garage. Gods, she just wanted to go to sleep. The night had been exhausting.

After a minute or so, she was approaching her car. She unlocked her door and grabbed her wallet that was in the middle console when a pair of headlights flashed past her, a car pulling into the spot next to her.

Before panic could set in, Nesta recognized who was driver the car through the window.

Cassian.

His car turned off and he emerged from the driver's door just a moment later. He looked over where Nesta was clutching her wallet to her chest staring at him. He gave her a tight-lipped smile before turning away and walking towards the elevator. Nesta had no choice to follow.

She walked just a few feet behind him as they made their way to the elevator.

"I'm sorry," Cassian told her, his voice sincere. He cast a concerned glance her way. "For embarrassing you at dinner. And if I scared you that night."

"You didn't embarrass me," Nesta snapped at him. "You were just being annoying as hell."

His entire body seemed to relax at her insult. Cassian tried to hide his smirk but failed. "I'm glad to see you're still your normal, hotheaded self. You got me worried at dinner with your stoic behavior."

Now she really glared at him. "Don't talk like you know me. You don't."

"Oh, sweetheart," he teased. "I think we're more similar than you think."

She scoffed. "I think that hubris of yours will be your downfall."

"You know, it's quite sexy when you use literary devices to insult me," he joked.

Nesta froze.

Was he coming onto her? Chills ran down her spine when she thought of the last time a man expressed interest in her.

It's not the same, she tried to convince yourself. He's not Tomas.

Cassian must've expected a heated response to his comment because he looked surprised when Nesta simply stared straight ahead. She seemed to be in a world of her own, oblivious to everything around her. Any trace of anger was gone, replaced by a cool indifference.

Cassian's face fell. "Nesta, I didn't mean to - "

He was cut off as the elevator door dinged opened and Nesta swiftly walked out.

-------------------------------

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[vanillaflavour81]

I'm not sure if you're taking prompts other than the numbered quotes from the list, but could you please consider writing a prompt where Joaquin has to meet up with Kevin because FP's putting more pressure on Joaquin to get details on the case, but Joaquin's got a cold that day so Kevin ends up taking him somewhere to take care of him?

Joaquin was leaning against the wall next to the trash cans behind Pop’s, smoking a cigarette and waiting for Kevin Keller. He coughed and grimaced, throwing his almost unsmoked cigarette to the ground and stubbing it out. He had a cold. This morning he woke up coughing and shaking from cold. But he had work to do of course…and work meant in this case that he had to meet the sheriff’s son and try to get some information out of him concerning his dad’s work. FP had told him yesterday to text Kevin and ask him on a date so Joaquin could learn more details about the Blossom case.Joaquin sighed, he hated this so much and cursed himself every day for not being able to just shut up. FP would have never found out if Joaquin had only been a bit more careful! Joaquin had met this cute guy at the drive-in, had made out with him and really wanted to see him again. And even finding out that this boy was probably the last person Joaquin should date, namely the sheriff’s son, hadn’t been able to stop Joaquin from wanting him. He had gone home, smiling like an idiot and had texted Kevin the same night, telling him how much he had enjoyed their little make-out session and that he wanted to see him again. And Joaquin hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut. He had talked about Kevin all the time, probably getting on Fangs’ nerves. And that was how FP had found out. He had been furious at first about finding out that Joaquin dated sheriff Kellers son. Joaquin had freaked out and in his shock told FP that there was nothing serious between Kevin and him, that Joaquin had only decided to agree to the dates because he thought they could use that inside line…FP had bought it and decided that it was actually something that could play in their favor and had told Joaquin to keep on meeting Kevin. The only problem was, that what Kevin and Joaquin had, was (despite what Joaquin had told FP) real. And now Joaquin felt terrible about having to do this, spying on Kevin’s dad and on his friends.

He sighed and looked down at his phone, where a text from Kevin appeared. “I’ll be there in 5 minutes, baby!” And a heart emoji…Joaquin smiled and typed a reply, “Can’t wait!” And of course, he added a heart too. He knew that he got it bad…

Joaquin pulled his leather jacket tighter around himself, shivering in the cold wind and sneezed. Great, this damn cold seemed to get worse. He looked up and saw Kevin almost running towards him, obviously very eager to meet Joaquin. Kevin’s gaze met his, and a sweet smile spread across his face. He seemed to be so happy to see Joaquin. Joaquin looked at Kevin: this tall, handsome boy, with his preppy hair and clothes, wearing one of his usual sweaters and expensive jeans and sneakers. He didn’t fit into Joaquin’s world, but somehow Kevin hadn’t gotten the memo and had decided to like Joaquin anyways and call him baby and kiss him all the time.

Joaquin’s heart was beating crazily in his chest, and there was a strange fluttering in his stomach as he looked at Kevin, and he suddenly realized what those symptoms meant..he was in love. He was in love with this cute, preppy boy in front of him, and it shouldn’t have happened, but it had, and now there was no way to undo it.Kevin reached him and pulled Joaquin into his arms, and Joaquin cuddled against him, grateful for the warmth Kevin’s embrace offered. “I missed you,” Kevin whispered into his ear, and Joaquin smiled a bit stupidly. It had been only two days since they had last met, but Kevin had already missed him! “I missed you too, Preppy. I am so glad you are here now.” Kevin smiled at him, this open, heartfelt smile combined with a slightly unbelievable look in his eyes as if he still couldn’t believe that he and Joaquin were boyfriends. And who could blame him? Joaquin also couldn’t believe it, but he knew that it was everything he wanted. He lifted his head a bit to kiss Kevin, but had to pull away again after only a short moment, because he had to sneeze once again. “Sorry.”Kevin chuckled and pulled Joaquin back into his arms. “Do you have a cold?”“Yeah.”“Then you shouldn’t be out here in the cold! Come on, we will go somewhere warm. My dad is at work. If you want you can come to my house. I will make you tea. You look like you are freezing!”Joaquin could only nod weakly. Kevin smiled and took Joaquin’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together and pulled Joaquin along. Joaquin looked down at their entwined hands. He had never held hands before, but it was something Kevin liked to do, and Joaquin liked it too now. It was such a simple gesture, but somehow it meant so much. It was so affectionate, so loving and sweet and it was kind of everything Kevin stood for. And so Joaquin happily held hands with Kevin, whenever he got the chance to.They arrived at the Keller’s house, and Kevin quickly led Joaquin to the couch in the living room and told him to lie down, piling up several fluffy pillows for Joaquin to lean against and collected a warm blanket from his room so Joaquin wouldn’t be cold. “I will make you tea and look if we have some medicine here.”Joaquin smiled at Kevin thankfully and lay down on the couch and sighed. His head was buzzing, and he suspected that he probably had a fever. But at least he was warm now, snuggled comfortably under the soft blanket Kevin had brought him. The blanket smelled faintly of Kevin’s cologne, and Joaquin felt even more comfortable because of that. Kevin returned after a short while, a cup of tea and a little flask with cough syrup in his hands. He set both down on the table and kneeled on the floor next to the couch, to kiss Joaquin’s cheek and place a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. “Hmm, you feel a bit hot. I think you really have a fever. Poor baby.”He gently stroked Joaquin’s hair and looked at him with such affection in his eyes, that it almost made Joaquin cry. Suddenly he was hit by a memory from his childhood: His mom looking after him when he was still a little child and was sick. She had always made a small pillow fort for him on the couch and brought him tea and cookies and read his favorite stories to him. It had been the last time he had felt truly loved and safe. Until now…and suddenly he really had to blink tears away.He looked at Kevin and couldn’t stop himself from saying: “Thank you so much, Preppy. You are so cute. I.. I..” he suddenly realized what he was about to say and panicked, and finished lamely, “…like you so much…”But Kevin smiled at him and leaned forward to kiss him quickly. “You’re welcome, I like taking care of you. Why don’t you rest a bit and I will go to the pharmacy quickly to get some aspirin for you.”Joaquin nodded. “Ok thank you.”Kevin grabbed his jacket and left the house, leaving Joaquin alone. It was the perfect opportunity. He was alone in the sheriff’s house. The door to sheriff Keller’s office was just a few feet away. And Kevin would be away at least twenty minutes. It was everything FP would want. Joaquin could easily go over to the office and look at all the notes…but he didn’t want to do it.He couldn’t bring himself to betray this sweet boy, who apparently liked him so much. He couldn’t rummage around in this house, into which Kevin had invited him so lovingly. He couldn’t do it, and he wouldn’t do it. And so Joaquin just stayed on the couch, under the blanket which smelled like his boyfriend and thought about Kevin’s cute smile and his green eyes and how his hand felt in Joaquin’s. And he hoped that they would somehow get through this and have a chance to stay together and that Joaquin could one day become something other than a small town criminal and give Kevin the life he deserved.He fell asleep before Kevin returned and when he woke up hours later, it was already dark outside, and Kevin had made pasta for them and more tea. He brought everything over to the couch so they could eat there. Later on, they cuddled on the couch, watching tv and when Joaquin had to leave because Kevin’s dad would soon come home, Kevin accompanied him to the door and kissed him and promised that he would check on Joaquin tomorrow.Joaquin walked home with a smile on his face, and when FP asked him if he had made any progress, he didn’t even get what his boss was talking about at first. Until he realized that his mission of the day had been to gain some more information from Kevin. He shook his head and told FP that Kevin knew nothing. And went back to his trailer to get ready for bed, but before he did so, he sent a text to Kevin: “Good night, Preppy. Thank you for taking care of me.” And of course, he added a heart emoji.

Thank you so much for this prompt! Of course you can send me prompts which aren’t on the list. This is great! I had so much fun writing this. I hope you like my little story! ❤

You can find my current Joavin prompt list here. Just send an ask with any combination of numbers. Or send other prompts :) 

tag-list: @inspiredbynewt  @love-joaquin-and-kevin @rik-raq-jo-gonzo1186 @mebeingateenager

I am really sorry, but I can’t put this under a cut, because Tumblr once again doesn’t work properly. Sorry for the huge post!

[keelywolfe]

FIC: While I'm Far Away From You

Summary: Stretch is Home Alone while all the other skellies are out diplomating. It's super. 

A prequel to the other stories in the series, by any other name You probably don't have to read the other stories to understand this, but why wouldn't you?  AO3 Link

Notes:

Each night before you go to bed my baby Whisper a little prayer for me my baby And tell all the stars above This is dedicated to the one I love

The house was too quiet.

It was also a chaotic mess, with plates and glasses, bowls with spoons poking out of them littering every flat surface in the area, papers on every other in cluttered stacks, schematics and notes, and a screwdriver or two lying exactly where they could be painfully stepped on in the night.

Not that Stretch knew from experience or anything.

Stretch took a moment to kick halfheartedly at the pile of books that was rising around the sofa like turrets in a paper castle. It was enough for him to gain access and he squeezed through to settle onto the cushions. He gave the television a considering look but he'd just sat down and since the remote was currently lost somewhere in the bowels of Castle Sofa Cushions, he decided to give it up as a loss. Spending an hour not finding anything to watch on Netflix was a decent time waster but he'd gotten sick of it two days ago.

He was trying to decide between the choice of going to the kitchen for the seventh time to find nothing he wanted to eat in the refrigerator or poking through the books surrounding him and not finding anything he wanted to read when his phone rang. That, at least, was in his pocket and it only required him finding which one it was in rather than braving the medieval furniture chaos.

On the third ring, he managed to press answer, "thank you for calling the skellie whore zone, you phone 'em, we bone 'em, how may I pleasure you?"

"You aren't funny." Despite his words, Stretch was pretty sure he could hear a smile in Edge's voice. Pretty sure. Either that or it was the weird underlying buzz that Stretch could always hear when he took a call from overseas. Sans said he was imagining it and Stretch had told him that it was size of his dick that required imagination. The conversation had gone somewhat downhill after that but at least Stretch had gotten half a dozen new insults out of it.

"my thousand twitter followers beg to disagree."

"They don't live with you," Edge pointed out and yeah, that was definitely a smile.

Stretch closed his eye sockets, listening to the buzz and the very faint sound of Edge breathing. "you know, you don't have to call me every night. i know it's three o'clock in the morning there."

"It is and if I believed for a minute you'd allow it, we'd be Skyping," Edge said. "But since I know you the way I do, I am fully aware that you've been working on whatever blasted project you've got going on right now the entire time I've been gone. I can also guess that you don't want to give me a chance to see the dark circles under your sockets, that you've been wearing the same clothes for three days, and that you'd need at least a couple of minutes to push all the dirty dishes and clutter out of camera range."

"you know me so well," Stretch murmured. He lounged back on the sofa, ignoring the lumps of unwashed laundry and the occasional shoe beneath him. "how are things going?"

"The negotiations are going fine, probably because I have nothing to do with it," there was a creak of springs and Stretch imagined he was settling back on the bed. "They can list me as a diplomat if they like, but as far as trade agreements go, I'd rather keep to the security detail with Red."

"yeah? how's that going, taking orders from your bro?" Stretch teased. With a grimace, he reached under his back for whatever was poking him. A hardback copy of 'How to Talk to Dogs in Spanish’. When had he gotten that?

"On the first day he told me that since I went by 'Boss' in Underfell, he'd made a list of more appropriate titles for me to call him," Edge said dryly. "Amongst them were, 'His Honorable Grand Poobah, Holder of the Fires of Tintantabar' and 'Kevin'."

"i hope you went with kevin."

"I went with ignoring him and calling him Red, exactly as I always have."

"uh huh," Stretch shifted, trying without success to find a more comfortable position. No wonder no one used laundry as furniture, it was terrible for lumbar support. "so, is this where we have phone sex? i'm asking for a friend."

"I would normally be agreeable to that, but I am actually tired," Edge said softly and Stretch couldn't even pretend that his own exhaustion wasn't relieved to hear it. "I only wanted to hear your voice before I went to bed."

There should be something smart and clever he could say to that. Something teasing and distracting, a quip or a pun, something that would make Edge sigh in exasperation, and he'd make that expression. The one that looked like he was annoyed but that Stretch knew meant he thought Stretch was hilarious, that inside he was laughing and he loved it. Stretch could see it in his eye lights, Edge let him see it, always, he never hid it, he always let Stretch see it. Always.

Except right now.

Instead, Stretch said, his voice rough and small and probably not at all what Edge was hoping to hear, "yeah."

Another rustle, Edge shifting on the bed and Stretch knew for a fact that Edge had stripped the bed when he'd gotten to the hotel and put on his own sheets. He'd make do with borrowed blankets but never sheets. One of his quirks and Sans had speculated on it once, how odd it was that a Fell monster would be so fussy and Stretch wished he could explain better that it was because he was from Underfell that Edge was so picky, control issues all the way around.

Sans hadn't been mocking him for it, though, had even offered to pack an extra set into his own meagre luggage, and if they weren't already friends, Stretch would have kissed him for it. With tongue, if necessary.

"It's only for three more days, snowflake," Edge said softly.

"i can count, asshole."

"I know. Do me a favor? Try to get some sleep tonight?"

"you don't need to worry about me so much," Stretch said and it was a challenge to keep his irritation from his voice. Edge had called to hear him, not his issues.

"I know I don't. I do it anyway because I love you, brat." And Stretch had to close his eyes against that warm affection, the love in that voice that ran so much deeper than the simple words. He wasn't…he…it was too much for him and Stretch figured they probably both knew it. He didn't deserve all that, he really didn't.

But he took it as greedily as a wilting flower in a rainstorm.

"i love you, too," Stretch managed, forcing it past his tight throat; not because it wasn't true but because it was. It sounded raw and wrong, and yet he could almost feel Edge relaxing from a thousand miles away.

"And make sure whatever cleaning service you're secretly planning on bringing in comes the day before we come home, to give the house time to air," Edge said dryly.

"no idea what you're talking about, lover," Stretch breezed out. "get some sleep yourself, okay?"

"I will. Goodnight."

"'night." Stretch touched the end button and let his hand drop to his chest, eye sockets closed as he lounged in his own chaos. He startled when his phone vibrated, looking at the screen to see he had a text alert. Curiosity was rough on cats and skeletons, and he opened it immediately to find a picture of all the others, Sans, Blue, and Red with their arms slung around each other and Papyrus and Edge standing but not touching. Behind them was a view of London with that huge fucking wheel Stretch recognized from the intro to Sherlock.

The text said, 'Next time, you'll be in the picture, too.'

He sent back, 'only if i get to be in the middle.'

There was no reply and Stretch tossed his phone a little too roughly onto the coffee table. Briefly, he considered going to bed and dismissed it as pointless. He'd never admit it, not for torture or money, but he couldn't sleep there right now. It didn't smell like Edge anymore.

Instead, he tugged a blanket out of the mess of twisted fabrics on the sofa and curled up amidst his own dirty socks, books, and maybe the television remote. May as well try to get a nap in, he had to be up early tomorrow anyway.

That was when the cleaners were supposed to get here.

-finis-

Read the Next One

[the-cemetery-researcher]

Progress update 26/01/2022

10am This morning I woke up to emails saying that the meeting today I was going to attend has been postponed. So I suddenly have my day back and I feel overwhelmed by all the options of really important things I could be doing...

I could finally check through all the receipts and file my expenses (I mean my contract only ended 5 weeks ago) or write some of the overdue things or send meeting minutes or contact the council or chat to EE about reducing my phone bill or go visit my nana...

I can decide. Paralysed by indecision. I'll just make grave plans instead I think, but despite having eaten breakfast, my hands are shaking as if my blood sugar is low. I feel a bit faint too. I think it might be anxiety. I hope it clms down. I keep fighting it to keep going even though now I'm yawning every few minutes as my brain fails to get enough oxygen. I feel sick too.

11.15am So I perserved, and even with still feeling really rough - really really rough - it took me an hour to draw the plan for HGE 13 so that was less time than I estimated yesterday, even with my hands fighting me all the way - getting the graves the right size (to the nearest pixel) with shaky hands sucks. I think it was quicker than usua because there are lots of paths and a big tree, so fewer grave markers. I really want to take a nap now, but maybe I should carry on with the inscriptions and other data. I'll try anyway - I'll try and keep going til 12.45 when my meeting should have ended - that's about another hour and a half.

11.45am Good thing I don't need to go anywhere til this evening now. With how I'm feeling so muddled I haven't had a shower yet and the washing machine has just kicked in so now I'm stuck in my dressing gown for at least another 2 hours. I've got one grave form done in the last 30 minutes. It was like fighting through treacle though.

2.45pm I didn't keep going solely on uni work, got distracted by a few emails and calls, but mostly I have carried on. Got HGE13 done now. So only 1 grave plan and 2 graves left to do!! If only it wasn't the most complaced plan.

Going to finally have a shower, hang the washing and eat something now. My back hurts and I'm really shaky.

5.40pm I finished the plan for HGE14 and it only took an hour, despite being really confusing and complicated. I've also cooked and eaten dinner. I'd really like to do the last 2 grave forms today, but my back is absolutely killing me from being hunched over the computer and I'm supposed to go to a Holocaust Memorial Day event in less than an hour, so I'd better go take a lateral flow test and get ready.

9pm It was really weird to be out of the house at all after being such a hermit this week. This was also the 1st time I'm seen being inside an actual building to watch live music, theatre or dance since before the pandemic - that made me cry nearly as much as the Holocaust survivor testimonies and the moving performances by the kids. I felt pretty safe as most people were wearing masks and the seating was spaced out. There was a bit of a row at the door when I arrived because you needed a COVID pass to get in. I don't remember seeing that on the event info the school sent, but I have the app on my phone and had just done a test (and remembered to upload it!) so I was able to get in quickly. If you didn't have the pass, they were doing testing on the door, so I'm not really sure what the fuss was about, but some people seem to get pretty angry about any restrictions now.

I don't want to carry on working now but being so close to the end of this task makes it tempting. I've moved the laptop to the sofa and brought my notes over with me but my back is still a mess so my arm twinges every few minutes while I try to type.

I'll see how far I get.

12.15pm I got them all done! I'm so relieved! Tomorrow I'm going to take some time back and do some of the other things on my to do list, and then re-read and make to do lists for my other thesis chapters. I want to make a trello board (or something, I'm not sure if Trello can do what I need) for all the tasks with time frames and mini deadlines. I need to try and overcome my disorganised brain somehow. Friday I start in ernest with the remote retreat!

[baronessblixen]

28. MSR. I'm feeling fluff but not opposed to smut. Maybe a birthday/Christmas/one of them is sick?

This prompt is really, really old. The prompt was

“You did this for me?”. I picked birthday and one of them is sick. 

Tagging @fictober and @today-in-fic

It’s 9.16 am and Mulder is not yet at the office. Despite the fact that Mulder has a habit of ditching her, or following any lead right away without another though, he tends to be at work on time. If not early. How often has she strolled in and Mulder was already in the midst of something important? 

Today, Scully made sure she’d be there before him. To prepare her surprise for his birthday. She examines her work now from all angles. Small, colorful candles flicker their light at her and in between them sits a slice of carrot cake. With extra frosting and, instead of a candy carrot on top, a small alien head. In gray, of course. 

A few weeks ago on a stakeout, Mulder told her that he didn’t like celebrating his birthday. Too much fuss, he explained spewing out sunflower seeds like an alien-hunting James Dean character. The only thing he liked, still indulged in even now, he admitted to her, was a slice of carrot cake. That’s when Scully knew what she’d do for his birthday. 

And now he’s late. She picks up the phone and dials his cell phone number. Three dial tones later and Mulder himself steps into the office.

“Scully?“ 

"There you are.” She hangs up the phone and gets up to greet him; he stands there like a question mark, his eyes searching hers in the dim, intimate light, 

“Happy birthday!” Scully exclaims and engulfs him in her arms. If she didn’t know better she’d think he’d forgotten his own birthday. He groans into her hair when she squeezes his sides but hugs her back.

“You did this for me?" His voice tangles in her hair and Scully smiles against his chest. 

"I did. I know you said you don’t like your birthday, but everyone deserves to feel a little special every once in a while.”

“Thank you, Scully. Thank you.” His arms tighten around her and Scully wishes they could stay like this for the rest of the day. She gently pushes at him. There are tears swimming in his eyes but he smiles at her. 

“Come on, blow out your candles.” He makes his way over to his desk, his steps deliberate and slow. Something is wrong, Scully thinks, but is distracted when Mulder stares at the plate in front of him. He chuckles, shakes his head in disbelief. Her Mulder, for once unable to belief in something. His head comes up so he can look at her. He doesn’t say a word, purses his lips and starts blowing out the candles. Scully only got him a dozen; who wants to be reminded of their age anyway? Mulder is halfway through when he sits down in his chair. 

“Mulder, are you all right?" Scully turns on the desk lamp, the bright light breaking the atmosphere. 

"I’m just old,” Mulder jokes. Now in the light, Scully sees Mulder’s pale complexion. Strands of hair are plastered to his forehead.

“Mulder, look at me,” Scully orders and he does. Dilated pupils, she notes. She leans over and touches his cheek. They feel warm, feverish. 

“I haven’t been feeling well. My stomach feels funny.” He touches his side and Scully swallows hard. She puts two and two together, takes his hand and helps him up.

“We’re going to the hospital right now. I think you have appendicitis." 

"Happy birthday to me,” he mumbles as he lets himself be led away.

They confirm Scully’s diagnosis in the ER. Mulder is admitted and prepped for surgery right away, the inflammation too far gone to wait any longer. The fact that he doesn’t complain once tells Scully that he’s in more pain than he’s letting on.

“Are you going to operate?” He asks her, his voice slightly slurred. 

“No, I’m not. These people here know what they’re doing.” That’s her hope anyway. Scully knows this is a routine operation. Mulder will be fine. They’ll release him in a few days, he’ll take it easy - she’ll make sure of that - and soon, he’ll have forgotten it ever happened.

“Then why are you crushing my hand?” As if it were on fire, Scully lets go of his hand. It falls away him like a wet rag.

“I’m sorry, Mulder. I’m just… you scared me, you know? You should have told me you weren’t feeling well.”

“I forgot when I saw you.” Her eyebrows shoot up. “And what you did for my birthday. I only wish I could have tried the carrot cake. See what that alien tastes like.” They both chuckle. 

“I promise I’ll get you a new one once they’ll let you eat solid food again.” Mulder groans just as three nurses walk in. Time to go.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Mulder.” Scully squeezes his hand and finds herself unwilling to let go. Mulder’s panic face makes an appearance and she puts her other hand on his cheek. “It’ll be fine. It’s a routine operation. And you know you have something to look forward to: your carrot cake.” He squeezes her hand as his eyelids droop. Another moment and he’ll be gone. Scully listens to the familiar click and clack of the hospital bed as they start wheeling Mulder out.

She’s still holding his hand knowing she’ll have to let go any second now.

“Scully… I… love you.” Her hand lets go, they take him away, and she stands there. Did he just say what she thinks he just said?

Two hours later, Scully is informed that there were no complications. Mulder is in his room, still out of it, and she is allowed to be with him. A nurse brings her a blanket, apologizes that the plastic chairs are so uncomfortable. Scully keeps drifting off, her hand holding Mulder’s like a lifeline. When it twitches, finally, she sits up straight, waits for his eyes to open.

“Hey, Mulder." 

"Hi. Am I dead?”

“No, you’re not. How are you feeling?”

“Hmmm, tired.”

“It’s the anaesthetic. It’ll take a while before it wears off. Any pain?”

“No. Feel… pretty good. Best birthday ever.” His eyes are closed, he’ll be asleep again in no time, but at least he’s smiling. As she stares at his peaceful face, she wants to ask him. Ask him if he really said I love you earlier. Scully knows it’s no use and yet she leans forward to whisper to him. 

“Do you remember anything from before, Mulder? Before the operation?" 

"Hmm.

You… carrot cake… I love… love… love carrot cake.” Scully, amused, shakes her head. Of course. Carrot cake. He loves carrot cake. That’s all. Scully takes his hand back in hers and leans back in her chair. Maybe she’ll ask him again later. 

Maybe.

[mem-en-to]

I just have to post this somewhere. If you do read it please don't reply or anything to alert me that you do. I just have to assure myself of my existence. If you do I might just can't stand it.

It's getting worse

I don't know if this will be a one time thing or what

It might be the stress of starting the second week of university

or that I fucked up the dorm's microwave 3 days ago and still feel guilty and stress (since then I've been making so many mistake I drop the alcohol bottle(broke it), drop a glass of water(luckily it's a plastic glass), spilled the milk on the desk, spilled the smoothie next to the fridge, dropped the clean towel on the balcony(result in having to wash it), tripped and drop some clean cottonbuds(such a waste!), tripped on the way to the bathroom at 2 am and woke the neighbors up on a schoolday)

or even home sick from being away for a week now

or because I was staying inside after graduated and then the covid situation that make me(I chose)stay inside the house for more than 3 months straight(well, I did go outside like once every other week or sth, but I would always go with someone, mom or dad)

I've been dreading going outside since yesterday

I estimated how many food I have left and feel bad(no not bad as in guilty) about having to go out and buy more

I even considered skip some meals and ration what I have left so I could put away going out for even just 1 more day

And I did, I skip breakfast and ration the food

I ate a bit less so I could scrap all the left over for just one more meal

The thought of going outside turned my stomach and I feel tight in my chest

it made me feel.. disgust and a bit of fear? มวนท้อง แหยงๆ อึดอัดตรงหน้าอก

I'm not sure how to describe it how or why

I don't think its talking to people that make me feel this way

I think its just go outside in general? being seen maybe?

I normally would dread going outside for a bit but have no problem in doing it

I would just need some times to come to realisation that I have to(or about to)go outside

Like, if mom just ask me inthe morning if I want to go out this afternoon. My answer is NO. There's no bargaining, except if it is ABSOLUTELY IMPORTANT.

But If she asked me, do you want to come with me tmr? That'll be fine, I might say yes(but I say no more often)

I would have a kind of panic-y thougt and feeling a bit scared before actually going out, like while I was preparing(dress, grab things stuff like that) that is normal

Today it took me almost half an hour after I'm ready to gather courage and actually step out of my room

In that 30 minutes I kept checking again and again of what I have to buy and did I have my all things?(phone checked. wallet checked. mask checked. etc) What about my clothes?(check the mirror) Did I brushed my hair?(proceed to brush it the 4th time)

All the while I also pacing and kept on checking the window for the restaurant near mydorm

It's to see if there're many customers, if there are I would wait a bit more because I don't want to stand around waiting and making awkward glance, an awkward conversation would be better come to think of it.

There. It's not the talking that I'm scared of.

After I got outside I would feel.. tense? anxious? or maybe paranoid or something of that nature I'm not sure

But the feeling would go away soon, often around the time I reach my destination or when I'm doing my task(like choosing btw different brand of groceries or the like)

It's still good, this time

The feeling went away as I was walking around the shop but come back as soon as I got in line, paid and walking out of the shop, which is fine that's also normal

I also have to stop at the restaurant on the next block, I decided to eat there and have a take away for dinner

I chose to eat there because that would mean less plastic you know? doing what I can to help with global warming

Even though the thought of sitting there was a bit.. sick It was fine while I was eating

Because I was doing my task(things)?

But the moment I turned away with a bag of food and my groceries in hand the feeling started to crawl up my spine and tried to curl up in my stomach again

But It's okay I didn't let it

My dorm was right there I could see it

Only a bit further and I'll be safe inside my dorm

But Nooooo

The feeling cling to me

I push it down and didn't let it settle in

My heart was still thudding in my chest even after I got inside my room

I put my things away. stored the food. changed clothes while checking if I breathed normally or not(I did, breated normally I mean or at least I think I did, despite what most people think some of us do research about thingss like this even if or when we haven't been diagnosed as having something plus I did hyperventilated/had panic attacked before or, I think it was)

But after that my heart still wouldn't return to normal and my head is a bit light and spinny still(At first I thought it was the 3 flight of stairs I have to climb but it should have gone by now, I know, not an athletic person)

That was when I realise that there something different, something wrong this time

The nagging feeling I have had since I walked outside is this

I'm more worried and scared this time

There is something wrong

I don't know what to do so I typed this down

Normally It would help make me feel better

And It did, my heart stop beating fast and weird halfway through this

Like my other notes I didn't care much about the grammar or whatever, after all the purpose is to make myself feel better

All right a bit more on this notes

After I finished this I wnt and google 'scared of going outside'

I don't think it agoraphobia or sad that I have although I do have some of the symptomps. I mean I might have one of it but from what I read I don't exactly match with some of both, I'm not scared of crowd(sad) in fact being in crowds make me feel better, the more people the better cuz that mean the less would be looking at me

And I'm not scared of open space(agora) I'm okay with parking lots and I'm not scared of being left alone(agora)

Being with some one I trust would definitely help(contradict with sad but agree with agora)

I'm not scared of public place(sad), Library is one of my sanctuary once I settled in on the new one that's it, Everyone is minding their own business, I could tuck myself btw some old textbook shelves no one would come search and read in silent, peace. Or I could go to the working space, sit on the sofa or choose one of the table and no one would care even if I have 3 thick books with me and sit there for 3 hours straight. I could even strike up some friendly and relatively non-awkward conversation with the librarian on the counter when I checked out some books, there, social requirement of the day complete. Those days that I could do this is so peaceful, I was happy.

Sadly, I had gone to Uni library only once and checked out a book, I still feel a bit uncomfortable to go there, but the feeling of contenment when I get inside would be worth it. Just. Not today. Or tmr, we got a day off for mother day and I might go home with my siblings and come back to next week on Monday or sth. (We have classes online bc of covid)

And after the mini research I feel a dizzy spell hit me

It left me reeling for a few mins before I returned normal

It could be because i stand up too fast or it could be the information in my head that's there something wrong

I don't want to have it, sad, agora or whatever

My self confident/self esttem is shit enough

I can't satnd it if i know there sth more wrong with me

I can't be more of a burden to my parents

I want to make them proud I have to

I choose this path and I know they don't hate it, they even support me on choosing to study art instead of the cliche doctor or engineer(which I hate but is my dad's life I feel so fucking bad I should have like it, I should be better at it and follow his footsteps, but I already made my choice, sometimes I regret it but even if I could go back I wouldn't change it, I can't At least I probably could be a teacher like him, teach younger people, support them I love him, and I hate him I love that he isn't just a good father, he's a good person, a good friend, a good teacher, a good brother, a good son, he's so great I don't deserved him, not me, not my mom, not my brother, not his parents, not his siblings, not that univerity And I hate him, he's always at work when I was younger, came home at 8or9 almost everyday but I also love him because despite that he still tried to make some time for us I hate him because when he started to have less works and came home earlier it's when me and my brother are growing up wanting to stay out and spend time with our friends(I hate myself) I hate him because he's so great, has been since he's young, he's so intelligent and diligent he studied hard and he got scholarship in uni to US And that was 40 years ago how impressive is that? And after he came back with straight A every uni want him but he choose that Uni because they supported him when he needed it and he chose to stay instead of go to better uni purely bacause he's a good person he feels grateful and want to repay the uni, which has shit government I hate it I hate them, there's a few years he's so stress because he has to go to the court several times on several cases and could go to jail because of those peice of shits I fucking hate them If he choose to change uni our lifes would be different I wouldn't grow up there, I wouldn't have friends that I have, I wouldn't be the person I am today and I can't blame him for choosing this. I hate him because no matter what or how much I tried I couldn't achieve half of what he has done and still doing(I hate myself I'm a disappointment) I could have gotten A or at least B+ if I studied more on math, science and sociology, but I didn't. I could have beautiful skin and thin figure if I take care of myself more, exercise more, but I didn't. I could have spend less money on books and those trinkets and save a lot of money, but I didn't, I could have make more friends and get in with the better connection and reputation clique if I conceal some part of myself and pretend a bit more, but I didn't. I could have better resume if I'm brave enough to participate in those tournament and those candidates for manythings, but I didn't. I could have been a better person, a better friend, a better student, a better daughter, but I wasn't[I couldn't be] I hate myself I don't matter I'm a disappointment)

I fucking hate crying, It never help with anything except wasting evenmore time and make my head hurt make my throat hurt of how I hold my noise in and make my eyes hurt and everything's blurry and wet.

I just broke down and typed those long ass paragraph with tears for an hour straigh. such a waste of time I should have done some exercise instead. And now I feel like shit. I know I could still do it but I also know that I won't. I would save this note, re-read it again and again maybe add sth along the way and when it's getting late I would jusst take a shower and goto bed.

At least I've lost my appetite, no dinner mean less calories I take today, skipped breakfast AND dinner? At least that compensate for today exercise(maybe) But I also know that garigarikun in the freeze will disappear into my stomach before bed. I'm such a little shit. I'm ashame of myself.

you know what I could waste a bit more time. Typing this some how remind me of the time I have an argument with my parents in highschool(or was it middle school? the memory's fuzzy)and I had panic attack or at least hyperveintilated afterward. I can't remember exactly what started the argument but I remembered that that day I was having a bad day(worse than normal) the bullying that day was worse I don't know how I acted I just remembered yelling at my father who's stress from long day at work and the court problem, we were yelling(or at least I am) and I did what I usually do. I ran, to the bedroom. I don't(never)want to have a fight with my family. He didn't follow me this time. My mom did. She came talk to me, half soothing half scolding. Saying I shouldn't have yell, I was hurting him by behave like this and after he's tired from work too. She's basically tried to make amend. But in my head at the time she was calling out on my bullshit. Saying I'm being unreasonable. I know that some of what she said is true and I don't want to fight so I tried talking, I said something like you don't understand me, And I tried using some difficult words and lines that could be seen in dramas and such to make her understand. I poured my heart out I even consider revealing the real extent of the bullying. But you know what she said? She said I read too many fictions and watch too many movies and I'm being too emotional I should stop this nonsense right now. I still could recall the feeling when she finished and it get in my head. It's not the ice bucket being pour over me. It's not the fire of rage running through my viens. It's not an arrow straight through my heart, a stab at the chest, or a feeling crawl up myspine. It's blank. blank. blank. blank, blank,blank,blank,blank,blakn,blank,blank, I feel so, so empty. It's just how I used my words, how I tried to make her understand. And this is what I got? I remembered stop talking and stuffed my face on a pillow. She's speaking a few more things but I didn't listen. I couldn't. I was breathing so hard but I think she think i was crying so she patted my back and left. I was old enough to know that's something's wrong I wasn't breating normally even for someone who's crying but at the time I still didn't know what panic attack/hyperveintilated is. I just know there's sth wrong, but I ignore it, I was hurt. I was in pain my chest is so tight(at the time I thought it's because of the pain I was feeling later I learned that it's the combination of that and the pa/h I was having) My thought kept circling around the words she said, I'm being dramatic and such. At least after that I don't want to argue anymore. I came back to myself and got out of the room, more than half an hour later. (Times didn't only flies when you're having a good time huh?, I remembered thinking that)

I think the being emotional/dramatic bit really got me. I can't help it. it's how I'm expressing myself. So what if it looking I was writing some fiction/ fake the words to make it mmore dramatic? That's how I feel.

A breakdown and an empty moment recalling in a day? that's a new record. Normally It would be one at a time and not this soon after one another. Guess I'm really stressed out. I even consider calling some emergencies depression lines but after reading some review saying it's shit I decided not to. I would be in the way of those who really do need it(I'm such a failure) and I'm not good at talking anyways, just look at how tragic it turned out to be each time I do.