#it hurts my back and my joints and it takes me forever and it's always stupid bright outside and i hate kicking the rakes and it's never

[skrunksthatwunk]

jumpscared by least favorite seasonal chore

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, mentions of court, mentions of shootings

Chris’s POV

It was early Saturday morning when Nate showed up at my place in Somerville, looking like he hadn’t slept a minute. He’d just been let go from the police station after being kept overnight. I could tell from the way his eyes darted around that he was still a little on edge. It wasn’t the first time Nate had found himself in trouble, but this was different. Getting arrested for carrying too much weed while being tied up with our crew was a whole new level of risky.

Nate and I were both part of the Crimson Cartel, a gang deeply embedded in Boston’s streets. His family had been involved for as long as I could remember, and his cousin Danny was one of the big players. I got pulled into it all because of Nate - our friendship was solid, and when he joined, it wasn’t long before I did too. 

“Got a joint, bro?”  Nate asked, his eyes already scanning the kitchen for one.

I laughed. “Seriously? You just got back from being arrested for possession, and you want to smoke up?”

“Hell yeah. What else am I gonna do?” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

I liked the occasional joint. It helped take the edge off, helped me relax when things got too hectic. But that was it - just weed, nothing harder. I knew where to draw the line. Sure, I sold drugs, but I didn’t get involved with any of the other shit. That was strictly for the older guys in the Crimson Cartel. Those were the ones who handled the hits, the intimidation, the gruesome work. They had been in the game for years, hardened by it. Nate and I, we were different.

We were the youngest in the gang - Me being 21, and Nate just 20, everyone else was 30+. We’d been involved since we were 16 & 17. Our job was simple: handle the drug runs, get the product from one place to another. No blood on our hands, no breaking bones or taking lives. It was a clean line, or at least that’s what I told myself. I wasn’t in this for the violence. Hell, I wasn’t even in this by choice, one bad decision snowballed, and now this was my life. My family freaked the fuck out when they found out. Kicked me out, didn’t want anything to do with me. That’s how I ended up living with my uncle Jerry, just trying to get by. I guess it helped having an uncle who liked to smoke too.

Just sell it – that’s what I kept reminding myself. I was good at it. I didn’t have to hurt anyone. I didn’t have to be like the older guys who let the gang swallow them whole. I wasn’t a thug, and I wasn’t going to become one. That’s how I stayed sane in all this.

The older guys in the cartel, though – they didn’t think like that. For them, it wasn’t just about the money. It was about power, about making a name for themselves on the streets of Boston. Nate and I didn’t fit into that. We were runners, sure, but we kept ourselves out of the violent shit. Nate had a reckless streak growing up, especially when he was with his cousin Danny, but even he didn’t want to cross that line.

Still, the older we got, the harder it became to stay in our lane. The more we were around, the more they expected from us. Every time I handed off a package, there was always this nagging feeling that eventually, they’d want more. Nate and I had managed to avoid that side of the cartel for now, but I knew it wouldn’t last forever. There’s only so long you can run drugs before they start pulling you deeper in.

The truth was, this life had a way of blurring those lines. Sure, I wasn’t involved in any hits, but I was part of the same machine that funded them. Every deal I made, every bag I handed off, it all contributed to something bigger, something more dangerous. As much as I tried to keep myself at arm’s length from the bloodshed, I was still part of the problem. And deep down, I knew it. But I had to keep telling myself that it was different. That I was different. As long as I stayed on the edges of it, as long as I kept my head down and just did the runs, I wouldn’t have to cross that line. I wouldn’t have to become like Vince or Danny or any of the others who’d let the cartel define them.

We headed out the side gate of my bungalow and settled into the backyard. It was chilly, but the kind of brisk Boston morning you get used to. I pulled out a joint, lit it up, and handed it over as Nate slouched back into one of the old chairs. As he took a deep drag, I asked, “So, what the hell happened?”

He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling up into the air. “Man, it was a mess. I was out helping Danny and Sully with a run. You know, just moving some weight, nothing crazy. But then Danny got a call, said one of the big guys from H Block was back in town, and he couldn’t let that slide.”

I nodded, knowing all too well how territorial things had gotten lately between us and H Block.

“So, next thing I know, we’re driving down Charles Street, street was silent as fuck not a sinner on the place. I’d just smoked a joint and was high as hell when Danny starts shooting. I panicked when the shots went off and I hopped out the car. The car took off, and I was stuck there like a damn fool.”

I couldn’t help but shake my head. “You didn’t try to get back in?”

“Nah, man. They were gone, and I freaked out. I didn’t want to stick around a crime scene, so I ran. Ended up at the Public Garden trying to blend in, but it’s October so I’m sat there freezing my ass off. Eventually, I had to leave, but cops were swarming everywhere and I’m still high as fuck so of course, I run into them.”

I laughed a little at the irony, but it quickly faded when he said, “They nailed me for carrying more than the legal amount of weed and suspicion of selling. And there’s already whispers about me being involved in the shooting. If that gets out, I’m screwed.”

“Jesus, Nate. So, what happens now?” I asked, taking the joint back from him.

“I’ve got until Monday to figure things out. That’s when my court appearance is.” Nate said, leaning back in his chair as though he wasn’t too worried.

I took a deep breath. “So, less than 48 hours?”

He nodded, eyes half lidded as the weed hit him. “Yeah, but my record’s clean. It’s the first time I’ve ever been caught with anything, so I should get off light. Worst case? A fine and some community service. I doubt they’ll throw me in jail.”

I passed the joint back to him. “And they don’t have anything solid linking you to the hit?”

“Not yet, I mean from what I remember no one else was around.” he said, exhaling smoke. “But you know how it is. If they start digging, anything could come up.”

I sat there, processing everything. Nate was right, he might be fine, but there was always the chance the cops would sniff out something worse. “You want me to do anything?”

“Yeah, actually” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I’m supposed to do a run in Roxbury tomorrow, but with the heat on me, I need to lay low. Can you cover it?”

I thought about it for a second. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do. “Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

Nate nodded, looking relieved. He gave me the address, and I pulled out my phone to type it into my notes app. As I did, I noticed a drop down notification that made me freeze.

“@y/ny/l/n2 liked your photo.”

I blinked, staring at the screen. Y/n Y/l/n? It had been years since I’d heard that name. Curious, I clicked the notification, but by the time the app loaded, it was gone. There was no mention of her like, no new activity on the post. Weird.

Nate noticed I was distracted. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, just.. an old name popped up,” I said, pocketing my phone.

“Old girl?” he teased, a grin forming on his face.

“Something like that” I muttered, still thinking about Y/n. I hadn’t seen or talked to her in years, but I couldn’t deny that her name stirred something in me. We had a brief thing back in 2018, nothing too serious, but I always had a soft spot for her.

Nate eventually decided to head home, needing some rest after his long night in the station. I waved him off, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Y/n. What was she up to these days? Was she still in Boston? Why did she like my post after all this time? What made her look at my Instagram?

That night, I went over everything for the run tomorrow, making sure I had everything in place. But no matter how much I tried to focus, I couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n.

She was one of those girls who left a mark on you, no matter how brief things had been. And even though it had been years, I couldn’t help but wonder what seeing her again might be like.

Monday came faster than I expected, and I found myself standing outside the Boston Municipal Court with Nate. He looked calm, or at least as calm as he could be given the situation. But I knew better. Nate always tried to play it cool, even when he was freaking out on the inside.

We hadn’t talked much since Saturday, and I could tell the nerves were starting to hit him now. His foot tapped restlessly on the courthouse steps as we waited for his case to be called. The morning air was crisp, the fall chill creeping in, and it wasn’t helping either of us settle.

“You’ll be fine” I muttered, trying to reassure him.

He gave me a tight smile. “Yeah, let’s hope so. Just gotta get through this.”

When they finally called Nate’s name, we both stood, making our way inside. The courtroom was filled with the usual mix of people – lawyers, family members, defendants. Everyone there for one reason or another, all waiting for their fate to be decided. As much as Nate tried to shrug it off, this was serious. The rumors about the hit on Charles Street were swirling, and we both knew if they got any real evidence, he was screwed.

Nate’s lawyer made a decent argument – first-time offense, clean record, no solid evidence tying him to anything worse than possession. They dragged it out longer than I thought they would, but in the end, the judge gave his ruling.

“A charitable donation of $2,000 and 50 hours of community service” the judge announced, his voice echoing through the courtroom. “Additionally, Mr. Doe, you are expected to refrain from any drug-related activities for the next 12 months. Any violation of this order will result in harsher consequences.”

The words were like a weight being lifted off Nate’s shoulders. He was let off easy. I knew he’d be able to pay the fine without blinking, and the community service? It was nothing. But the whole “refrain from drug-related activities” part? That was funny. We both knew that wasn’t happening. Nate just had to make sure he didn’t get caught.

As soon as the court was adjourned, I felt the tension drain out of me. Nate’s future was safe, for now. I clapped him on the back as we left the courtroom. “See? Not so bad.”

Nate grinned, shaking his head. “Yeah, man, I guess I got lucky.”

But even though things had turned out okay, I needed to get out of there. The courtroom felt too small, too confined. I needed air, space to think, and to breathe. I left as fast as I could, practically jogging out of the courthouse doors and into the cool October breeze. It hit me like a wave, and I inhaled deeply, trying to clear my head.

That’s when I saw her.

The most strikingly beautiful girl I’d seen in years. A face that was hard to forget. Something in my chest tightened as I watched her walk across the courtyard, almost in slow motion. She was looking down at her phone, completely unaware of my presence.

And then it hit me. I knew that girl.

Wait–Y/n?

The same Y/n I hadn’t seen since 2018. The same Y/n who had been on my mind all weekend after that weird Instagram notification.

My feet were frozen in place, and for a second, I felt like time had stopped. There she was, standing just a few feet away, as if fate had decided to throw us back together after all these years.

Y/n.

What the hell were the odds?

I didn’t know if I should walk up to her or just keep my distance, but before I could make a decision, she looked up from her phone and our eyes locked. My heart skipped a beat.

There was no avoiding it now.

Y/n’s Pov

"Y/n?" His voice was deeper than I remembered, smooth yet surprised.

I blinked, still in awe of how good looking he still was. He had that same disheveled charm, the messy brown hair, sharp jawline, and those piercing eyes that always seemed to see right through me. Only now, he was taller, broader. He had grown into himself, and it was impossible to ignore.

"Chris" I breathed, trying to act casual but failing miserably. "Wow, it’s been a while."

"It really has" he said with that signature smirk of his. "It’s nice to see you. You look great."

I could feel my cheeks heating up. "Thanks. You too."

We stood there for a moment, just taking each other in. It was surreal, seeing him after all these years. I didn’t even know what to say or where to start.

"So.. what are you doing here?" I asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

He chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nate got into a bit of trouble, as you probably saw in there. I’m just here to support him."

"Right" I nodded, still trying to wrap my head around everything. Chris and Nate, in court. A few years ago, I never would’ve pictured it, well maybe Nate but not so much Chris.

"How’s life treating you?" he said, eyes scanning me in that way that made my heart flutter. 

"It’s good, actually. Just finishing up a big project for college. Still getting used to all the work, but I like it."

He nodded, his gaze softening. "I’m glad to hear it. You always had your head on straight."

Before I could respond, Nate appeared, walking up to us with his usual nonchalance. He looked at Chris first, then at me, a flicker of recognition passing across his face.

"I’ll wait for you in the car, man" Nate said, slapping Chris on the back before giving me a nod. "Nice seeing you."

I returned the gesture, watching as Nate sauntered off. It was so strange, seeing both of them like this. Nate barely glanced back, disappearing down the steps toward the parking lot. My eyes flicked back to Chris, who was still watching me with that familiar intensity.

"We should hang out sometime" he said, almost casually, but there was something more to it.

My stomach did a flip. "Yeah, that would be nice."

Chris smiled, a genuine one that sent my pulse racing again. "You’re still living in Beacon Hill, right?"

I shook my head. "No, we moved once I started college. My parents wanted a bigger house in a quieter area, so we’re out in Brookline now."

He nodded, while giving me a soft smirk. "That’s cool. I’ve still got you on Instagram. I’ll shoot you a message, and we can figure something out."

The casual mention of Instagram made my face burn. He definitely saw the notification. I could feel the heat rising up my neck. But if he knew, he didn’t say anything. He just gave me that same charming smile, one that felt all too familiar.

"Yeah, sounds good" I mumbled, trying to keep my cool.

With one last glance, he gave me a quick nod before turning to leave. I watched as he walked away, feeling the blood rush to my face. The way he moved, the effortless confidence — it all hit me at once.

Chris was back in my life, just like that. And somehow, it felt like things were about to get a lot more complicated.

a/n: first chris povvvv

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @slutniolo @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69

[steddieas-shegoes]

CONGRATS ON 3000!!! ❤️ That’s so exciting!

For the ask game, I’d love to see your take on the song Heaven, Iowa by Fall Out Boy! (I vibe with “Scar-crossed lovers forever” as a Steddie-coded lyric but honestly whatever comes to mind for you when you hear the song is great!)

Congrats again!! 💕🎉

Thank you! I got a few different steddie-coded lyrics from this song, but the one you provided is good for something short, so I’m sticking with that! ♥️

〰️➿〰️➿〰️➿〰️➿〰️

He wasn’t even supposed to be here. Wayne specifically asked him to stop coming to the Harrington parties, didn’t want him to risk being caught when they inevitably got shut down.

He knows he’d be in deep shit if a cop managed to catch him and see what he had in his lunchbox.

But one of his best customers insisted he stop by, promising he knew enough people would buy his entire inventory. He wouldn’t have to stay long.

“That’ll be $30 for the bag, or $10 if you just want a joint,” Eddie told one of the girls who always gave him dirty looks in the hall to cover up the hungry look she gave him at parties.

“What about the harder stuff?” She asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Don’t have any on me,” he rolled his eyes. They should know by now he only handles those items when requested.

“Fine. Just a joint then.”

He exchanges his product for her money, another addition to his savings that seemed to constantly dwindle on useless. He never stopped trying though.

She was his last customer in the line that had built up in the kitchen, so he decided to make his way to the backyard to finish up. Not many people usually hung out there when it was this chilly outside, but he had to give it a shot.

The patio surrounding the pool was absent of people, but he decided to take that as a sign that he needed a minute alone.

He heard a sniffle and his head shot over to the table in the corner of the covered area.

“Harrington?”

What the hell was he even doing out here? Was he crying?

“I’ll be in in a minute.”

Jesus. He sounded like someone had tried to strangle him. Was he sick?

“Dude, you okay?” Eddie steps closer, hopes he doesn’t end up regretting choosing kindness. “It’s kinda cold out here.”

Steve was sitting in a chair, knees up to his chest, arms around his legs. His face was half-buried in his knees, but Eddie could still make out the shivering.

“Yeah. Just needed some air.”

“You shouldn’t stay out here long without a jacket, man.”

Steve didn’t respond.

Eddie was actually growing more concerned for him, like maybe he’d been drugged with something and couldn’t move.

“Hey, look at me,” Eddie snaps his fingers in Steve’s face, relaxing slightly when he glares up at him with surprisingly clear, but watery eyes. “You need a jacket.”

“I’m fine. Go back inside.”

“You won’t be if you sit out here much longer. You’ll freeze to death. And then I’ll have to live the rest of my life knowing I could have stopped it by making you go inside and I’ll die feeling guilty.”

Was it dramatic? Yes. Did it make Steve give the tiniest smile and lift his head to look at him completely? Also yes.

“It wouldn’t be your fault.”

There was a cut under Steve’s left eye, and as his eyes adjust to the light coming from the windows, he sees a purple bruise surrounding most of the left side of his face.

“What happened?”

“The crown was pretty heavy when it fell,” Steve laughs without humor.

Eddie feels his stomach sink further.

“Who did this?”

It’s not like Eddie could do much, but maybe he could at least make sure he didn’t sell to the guy.

“Doesn’t matter.” Steve placed his legs down, careful, like he was trying not to hurt himself more. “You got anything left?”

Eddie should say no. He should leave now, head to the comfort and warmth of the trailer, forget about this interaction entirely. Maybe give one awkward head nod to Steve at school on Monday as an acknowledgment he didn’t forget, but won’t say anything to anyone.

“Just the one joint. You want it?” Eddie set his lunchbox on the table across from Steve and sat down.

“How much?” Steve turned to face him, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“Free for the host.”

That’s not something Eddie ever did, but if anyone needed it, it was Steve.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Well, I am. You got a lighter on you?”

Steve shook his head.

“Then I light it and get the first drag. Deal?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie is gonna regret this entire interaction, but of all his regrets, it’s probably pretty low on the list, so he pulls his lighter out and does exactly what he said he would.

Steve is watching him so intensely, it’s almost enough to make him blush. He won’t, he hopes, but it’s a hell of an effort.

“This why you’re sitting out here instead of enjoying your party?” Eddie asked as he hands over the joint.

“Part of it,” Steve takes a long drag. “Just tired of it.”

“Tired of what?”

“All of it.”

An alarm starts going off in Eddie’s head, a reminder that Steve may seem like he’s got the entire world, but those who hold the world tend to lose their grip.

“All of it meaning…”

“All of this. The parties, the people who only like me because I have money and throw parties, the popularity contest I didn’t even ask to participate in, the fucking concussions and nightmares. I’m just-“ Steve takes another drag. “I’m just tired. You should go back inside.”

Eddie watches him lean back in his chair, his shirt riding up and exposing just enough of his stomach to see a scar. The moonlight reflects off the lighter line of skin.

“Nah. Kinda like it out here. It’s quiet. Company ain’t bad either.”

Steve looks back at him with a frown. “Don’t have to pretend to like me, dude. Everyone else already does that enough.”

“Who said I like you? I’m tolerating you.” Eddie smirks, waits for Steve to recognize he’s joking. When Steve relaxes, he nods towards the scar on Steve’s stomach. “Appendix?”

“What?” Steve glances down. “Oh. Yeah. When I was 12.”

“I was 14 when I got mine out,” Eddie lifts his layers to show off his matching scar. “My Uncle Wayne thought I was dying. He didn’t even know what an appendix was, let alone that it can cause all this trouble.”

“Yeah. My parents weren’t home when mine ruptured so I had to call the neighbors.”

Eddie frowns down at the table. “They leave you alone a lot? Even then?”

“Yeah. Not a big deal. I made it through okay.”

Okay isn’t the word Eddie would describe, but Eddie didn’t wanna argue.

“You eat a ridiculous amount of ice cream after?” Eddie’s smile grew when Steve nodded. “I convinced Wayne it was the only thing I could eat for nearly a week after.”

Steve laughed, Eddie smiles.

“You got a nice laugh, Harrington.”

He watches as Steve gets red in the face, a beautiful blush covering his cheeks and spreading down his neck.

“Not sure the last time I really laughed,” Steve admitted.

“Shame.”

Eddie stood up, grabbed his lunchbox, and walked around to stand in front of Steve. Steve looked up at him with glassy eyes, the high already sinking in.

“Want me to clear everyone out?” Eddie shouldn’t offer that, or anything. But Steve looks so lost, so tired.

“Nah. It’s nice just not being alone, even if it’s people I don’t like.”

“That’s fucked, man.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve shrugged. “Thanks for the weed.”

“Anytime.”

Eddie doesn’t know what comes over him. Maybe it’s the one drag of the joint he’d taken, maybe it’s the cold air, or maybe it’s just that annoying crush he’s had on Steve Harrington for years.

He reaches out, cups Steve’s cheek in his hand, and holds him for just a moment.

Neither of them say anything when Steve leans into it.

They don’t say anything when Eddie pulls away with a sad smile.

They won’t talk about it again at school.

But when Steve saves Eddie from the Upside Down a full year later, when he’s sitting at his bedside cupping Eddie’s cheek in his hand, they both seem to remember at the same time.

“We’ve got two matching scars now, Harrington.”

“Don’t think the appendix has anything on demobat scars, Munson.”

“What happened to calling me honey? I liked that.”

“What happened to sweetheart?”

Eddie let out a small laugh. “You’re gonna be trouble, sweetheart.”

“But I’m gonna be your trouble, honey.”

[shy-urban-hobbit]

“I mean, you’ve got to feel a little sorry for them really haven’t you?” Jaskier said from where he was mopping up the last of the evidence of the half dead rat Roach had thoughtfully decided to gift them (the first time it happened he’d shrieked in surprise before Geralt put it out of its misery with a matter of fact “Welcome to country living, city boy”). Geralt gave a non committal hum from where he was warming milk up for Ciri on the stove. The little girl sat colouring at the large kitchen table - too large for two, but that would change when Geralt’s brothers and any guests they decided to bring descended on them.

“I mean they’re just minding their own business like, Oh I’m a hungry rat. Please don’t kill me.” Here Jaskier put on a slightly squeaky voice and held up his hands in imitation of paws, still holding onto the mop, “And then wham one of the last things they see is Roach’s teeth coming towards them. So many teeth.” He gave the resident farm cat a critical stare and received a dismissive tail flick in response.

Ciri giggled at his antics which caused him to grin back at her in return. It always felt like a special sort of personal victory when he managed to coax a laugh out of the little girl.

Despite being together for six months, he was still being introduced to her as her father’s ‘friend’ (which was true enough, they wouldn’t be dating if they didn’t get along) and Jaskier was happy to go along with it. Geralt had explained without revealing too much that the little one had been let down by too many adults in her life already, himself included, and ‘boyfriend’ was maybe just a little too official sounding for the time being (and if he said his heart hadn’t broken a little for the five year old smiling at him from Geralt’s phone, he’d by lying), especially after the shit that had gone down with his ex. Geralt hadn’t gone into detail but from what Jaskier had gathered, the woman had had a hidden agenda in wanting to get back with Geralt and Ciri had almost gotten seriously hurt as a result. Geralt had blamed himself for jumping back into the relationship too quickly and so, any potential partners now had to pass what Jaskier had dubbed ‘The Ciri test’.  

He liked to think he’d passed the first portion with flying colours, the tiny blonde seeming perfectly comfortable with him in public places. Now they were dipping their toes into Jaskier staying in their home for longer periods, with Jaskier having graduated from the guest bedroom to sharing with Geralt the previous visit (the brunette wanting the ground to swallow him up when she happily informed her Uncle Eskel of ‘Daddy’s sleepover’ when the man had dropped by unexpectedly the following morning. Geralt had just shrugged and told him to be thankful it hadn’t been Lambert; who could and would, happily take the piss forever).

“Alright Ciri, put your things away and then go get your bedtime book. I’ll be in in a minute.” Geralt said, pouring the warm milk into a plastic My Little Pony cup.

“I want Jask.” Ciri declared form where she was trying to force the crayons back into their box by the (relatively small) handful, Causing both adults to stop what they’d been doing and stare at one another. This was new.

“You sure you don’t want daddy?” Jaskier asked, looking to Geralt for some sign as to what he should do.

“You do better funny voices. Daddy’s all sound the same.”

It took everything Jaskier had not to burst out laughing at that as he took in the minute eye twitch from the other man at that statement, “Geralt?”

Geralt nodded, “Mind if I stay and listen? You know how much I love The Gruffalo.”

Jaskier snorted and felt a surge of fondness. The lies we tell for our children.

It ended up being a joint effort, with Geralt guest starring as The Gruffalo “On account of you being so, well...gruff.” and admitting to a slightly too smug looking Jaskier and a mostly asleep Ciri that “Yes, Jaskier does better voices for everyone else. Especially Mouse.”

"Everything ok? You’ve gone all quiet on me.” Jaskier said from where he had his head in Geralt’s lap as they watched some mindless Netflix show. “I didn’t overstep did I?” He was suddenly frantic, his anxieties bubbling back up to the surface now that he didn’t have a performance and an audience to focus on, “I know you probably just said yes so things wouldn’t be awkward. I probably should have told her no and come up with an excuse but how can anybody say no to that face-“

“Jaskier. It’s fine, honestly.” Geralt said, rubbing his hands up and down Jaskier’s arm in a way he knew calmed him, “I’ve built up something of an immunity to Ciri’s puppy eyes. I would’ve said no if I had a problem with it. I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“About how I might have a question for Ciri.”

The next morning saw Jaskier seeing both of them off with a hug (also accompanied by fishing a stray cheerio out of Ciri’s hair which he had been too tired to question) before heading back to his city apartment and his job as a music tutor.

“Ciri?” Geralt asked, putting her school backpack by the door as he knelt down to help her button up her coat, “You know how Aiden is Uncle Lambert’s boyfriend?"

It had slowly been killing Jaskier not to check his phone as soon as the text notification came through but he was nothing if not professional and he would not check his phone when he was in the middle of a lesson. Thank the Gods he did wait as he was prettu sure he gave his retreating student a minor heart attack with the squeal he let out at Geralt’s message:

‘Ciri has been proudly announcing to her classmates this morning that Jaskier is her daddy’s boyfriend. Much disappointment from the single mums.’

[neteyamyawne]

Inferno : Ignite ✦

Pairing: twin!neteyam x sister!reader x Sully family

Summary : y/n and neteyam were inseparable twins but as they grew up things got difficult with humans coming back on Pandora, they both got distant and neglected by their own in the process, what would be their next step? (For more info click on the summary link)

Parts : pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5

• Series masterlist

Angst ✦

❈ Warnings : angst, fighting, yelling, cursing, crying, bad parenting, ignorance, brother and sister Bonding, jealous (platonic), favouritism , regret, groveling, sad ending, toxic Jake? , Hurt no comfort, even more crying? Etc. Let me know if more.

❈ Word count : 4.2k , proof read.

❈ Note : I love neteyam and want him to live his best life, so this is my tribute to him 🤧

"word" - dialogue

❈ Glossary : omaticaya - avatar Navi clan, tsahik - spiritual leader of Navi clans, Olo'eyktan - leader of Navi clans, eywa - Navi deity , tsarekam - tsahik in training, ma'sa'nok - my mother, y/i/n - your ikran name, seze - blue flower (neteyam's ikran) , paysyul - water flower, sempul - father , y/n - your name.

The omaticaya clan was bustling with life and joy as their tsahik has given birth to their Olo'eyktan's first offsprings, though it was uncommon for twins to be born and were called sacred and gifts given by eywa herself as twins either kills the mother or one of them dies at the time of birth but this time it was a miracle as neytiri survived that painful period of time and came back alive with two beautiful children in her arms.

Neteyam and y/n were the pride and joy of Jake and neytiri's life, y/n being the absolute daddy's princess and clung to him with every given minute , he took her everywhere he could, strapping her to his chest and taking her to war meetings as the surrounding warriors didn't even dare to think about commenting on the sight in front of them, while y/n was with Jake, neteyam was a mama's boy and neytiri could never let Jake live down to it, always flaunting how her son always wants her and not him and his comeback is always how much y/n wants him but the banter always ends up with the four of them cuddling together in the hammock as they all drift to sleep.

»»————-　⚜ ————-««

Neteyam and y/n were like sun and moon, if one is leading the other follows right after, and that's how it always was, y/n would lead and neteyam would follow her, though they both never disobeyed their father's words, Jake was their role model, both y/n and neteyam followed Jake's orders as if there was no tomorrow but they still had their moments when suddenly neytiri became their favorite because now Jake wanted nothing more but pick them up and tickle them until they were convulsing in fits of laughter.

If y/n was seen somewhere then neteyam was surely around the same ground and vice versa so if any of the kids picked on one of them the other immediately stood up for them, the twins were inseparable, joint to the hips if you must and the village nothing but adored them, they were the future Olo'eyktan and tsahik in making afterall but even before that everyone just loved them for their bubbly and calm nature.

Jake carried y/n on his shoulder while neytiri held neteyam as they both walked towards the lake they all visited every week, but today was different, today they had news which would change the twins life probably forever….

»»————- ⚜ ————-««

Jake and neytiri both sat near the twins as they watched their kids run around chasing each other and splashing water every now and then, meanwhile Jake got distracted and seeing the opportunity the twins splashed water at their old man with all their might drenching Jake from head to toe while all neytiri did was laugh at the sight, huffing Jake got up and stormed towards the kids, picking them up , the squeals and laughter ringing through the forest, he threw both of them in the water gently, all the while laughing at the whole scene, soon it was getting dark as they cuddled together, that's when the parents decided to tell the news, "neteyam, y/n" neytiri started, she looked at Jake once more and he nodded for her to go forward " you know you both are brother and sister right now, hmm?" Both the kids just nodded their head, their little brains confused about why their mother is stating the obvious, "well, now you both will get to be big brother and sister in few months" but their confusion was still there as they looked at their father for clarification, Jake just smiled and said "well what mommy is saying that, there will be another person for you to play with in time, then you'd be big siblings to them" but the only thing the twins focused on was 'they will have another person to play with them!'.

Soon enough Two babies joined the family and the twins couldn't be any more happier, y/n held her baby brother, looking at her twin who held her new baby sister as well, they both smiled, Jake and neytiri were happy they accepted the new ones with so much enthusiasm, both the elder kids adored the babies, always carrying them, feeding then and taking care of them, neytiri and Jake have to plead with them to hold them because they never let the babies out of their sight, their protectiveness doubling over those little ones, and to add to it , tuktirey joined the family in the next two years, happiness was an understatement for the bustling family right now.

Jake and neytiri tried to not keep favorites and divide their attention but having 5 kids to take care of made them take the decisions, even though neteyam and y/n were the dream kids ,that made them have lo'ak in the first place, with little to no crying and obedient as ever, eywa blessed them with lo'ak and kiri that we're complete opposite of their older siblings, lo'ak got into trouble and kiri followed without a doubt, always together and tuk was tuk, in y/n's eyes tuk could do no wrong, she was her little baby sister after all. It had been a few years now, life was simple, everything was perfect…. Until it wasn't.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Humans were back, they destroyed everything, again, took our newly built hometree, destroying it to the ground, and changing our lives forever.

~ y/n pov ~

It has been years now, since our former home was destroyed and those humans claimed our land without our permission, though the humans which lived with us helped us so much but they could only do little, raids became more frequent and dad's behavior changed with it, he insisted on me, neteyam and lo'ak calling him sir, drilling us into work, practices , and chores all throughout the day without a break, training was different other than that, it was like we didn't even have space to breath.

I sigh walking through the tent with 'teyam and lo'ak, tired as hell from today's work, i just wanted to nibble on some food and pass out in the hammock, sitting down near the circle i took ahold of my plate, nete' sat beside me and lo'ak on his left, kiri and dad sat side by side in front of me, mom in between lo'ak and kiri with tuk in her arms. I started eating my portion when my eyes fell on my sister who was talking and smiling with the man beside her, oh how long has it been seeing him smile like that, he never smiled at us anymore except for kiri and tuk or sometimes mom, i forgot about the food in my hand as i only stared at their interaction. I felt jealous, i know that i shouldn't be jealous of my own goddamn sister! But i was and it was gnawing at me, she gets to call him dad, she gets away with anything while i get scolded for hours for the same mistake, he took away my title of tsarekam and gave it to her because "she is more connected to eywa and can feel her more clearly" and i said nothing and happily agreed because c'mon she's my sister and i can see that she could be a better tsahik than me but it still hurts that he was the one initiating it. I was then named and trained to become neteyam's right hand in command after he became the Olo'eyktan.

Even after the other title, i just longed for my old dad, the one who pulled me close and comforted me and not scold the hell of me for it, he says "it's part of the training" or "it's my fault i should own up to it" after a mistake i did, while kiri gets the opposite. My mood just depleted more when i saw him laugh out loud for something she said, i was brought out of my trance when neteyam nudge me with his knee and i looked at him, he tilted his head giving me soft eyes conveying that he sees it too but i just shook my head, too annoyed at them to reply to him. I pushed my plate, losing my appetite all together, I got up thanking ma' sa'nok for the meal and walked out telling them I was going to feed y/i/n. I walked out to feed her/him but I didn't tell them how exactly I was going to do it. I always had my visor with me anyways.

I soared through the mountains, wind blowing through my hair but even this wasn't helping to lighten up my mood. The forest glowed beneath me, the eclipse will happen soon but I wanted to make every minute count before I have to go back. my thoughts were interrupted as a sudden gust of wind blew from my side, i knew who it was before i saw him, i just nudged him back, his laughter rang out. We twisted and twirled around each other, loops and drops forming in the air as we played for a while, afterwards we landed near a tree and let our mounts hunt for their food.

I sat with my knees tucked to my chest and my arms wrapping around them, my cheek pressed into my knee as I looked at neteyam, who was leaning on his hands, legs dangling down the edge of the branch. " You know how emotional kiri is, he just wants the good for us" he started but i just rolled my eyes at him, he's just saying that to make me feel good but even i know he feels the same, i scoffed and said " you really believe that? He has always done this! Sometimes it's like he favors her over us, answer me 'teyam when was the last time we called him 'dad'?" He stayed silent, he knew the answer well, sighing as he put his arm around my shoulder, giving me a squeeze of reassurance. I just leaned onto him, i remembered how many times we have been scolded by now ,We had bets placed sometimes between me, lo'ak and him on who would get scolded the most from dad, but it seems like lo'ak was in winning streak here. Neteyam's attempts at cheering me up were successful when he got up and jumped off directly calling for seze midair, my heart was in my mouth at his stunt, while he laughed at my surprised face,I flipped him off, I too got up determined to get back at him and chased him all the way back home, looping around him and blowing gusts of winds at each other.

I landed near the nest, laughing as i jumped down disconnecting from y/i/n, neteyam landed beside me laughing as well, both our hair were a mess but it was still so much fun we had after a long while, i turned around to walk towards our tent but my smile faded away when i saw our father standing near the tent entrance, neteyam froze in his tracks as well, yeah we were fucked, again, we both treaded our way towards him, keeping our eyes on the ground as we stood in front of him, wincing when he actually started talking " have you two seen what time it is? It's past the eclipse, I thought you were going to feed your ikrans and not fly with them!!" Grimacing at his tone, i said glancing at neteyam one last time "I'm sorry sir, it was a hard time finding the hunt, it won't happen again" he just scoffed "next time just feed what we have available, no need to go outside without my permission", my anger rose with it but i stayed silent not wanting to escalate further but then he spoke again "that's what I want, i expected better from you both, you're the eldest you should know better than this'' with that he walked straight inn, i just looked at neteyam, eyes squinted but he shook his head as in 'let it be'. I sigh defeated, as we both enter the tent, seeing everyone was in Their hammock, kiri fast asleep beside lo'ak who was snoring loudly, i got in beside him and tuk rolled onto me, i hugged her close pulling her inn, neteyam got in from the other side, pulling us all together, but sleep never came to me as i laid awake and my mind running back to the times my father scolded me again and again for nothing, it bothered me but it's not like anyone's gonna help, even mother was putting up a blind eye to it, i closed my eyes begging the great mother to grant me some semblance of sleep and she answered when i was sucked into , not a calm, but restless sleep…

»»————-　⚜　————-««

It's been a few weeks since that encounter but life's been the exact same if not worse, it's always 'y/n you're wrong' , 'y/n don't you understand?' , 'y/n what's wrong with you?' and same towards neteyam, we are both exhausted of this and mom didn't say word against it, i tried talking to her, telling her what's going on with me and my twin but every time she either dismissed it or simply replied with "it's for your own good" and that was that, i was getting frustrated minute by minute , so was neteyam, where i showed my anger a little bit , he completely hid it from everyone else and it was consuming him, i can see it everyday how he works silently, does everything alone and has stopped asking for help even from me. Our father's neglect towards us was making us fall apart.

I tried my best to keep us both sane, well atleast for while as i think we are still sane, our flights together were cut short by our dictator, instead, we were thrown into assembly of the upcoming raid, day and night we worked on strategic management and barely got any sleep while our "sir" was busy with work "we couldn't understand", complete bullshit but staying silent was better than being grounded for asking another question.

Now with new training sets, another batch of practice was dropped on us by our father. He demanded that we practice more because we were getting lousy…..his words not mine, as if we ever got a chance to even act lousy.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

We stood in front of our dad as he scolded us for the upteenth time now, why you ask? Well lo'ak took tuktirey out for adventure and they were attacked by some kind of animal i don't even remember now, why are we being scolded? Because we didn't see our precious little brother take tuk out as we were too busy with our training that he yelled at us to complete beforehand, so it was our responsibility to see each and every step our brother takes even when we were clearly busy with other things, it's our fault of course.

"How many times have I told you both to keep an eye on your brother but you don't understand do you? So until you both get on your senses you are grounded" he spit at us with venom in his voice, i looked at my mom for help but she just shrugged , as if this was alright ,making anger shoot through me, so this time i didn't stop myself, it was already getting dark outside the eclipse was nearing and what i said next made his eyes pop out, " if you're so adamant about us disobeying your orders to keep and eye on lo'ak, then why did you tell us to train for the 6th time today? we were doing what you fucking told us to! I don't have another set of eyes to keep them on lo'ak, he's a person in himself, he can think for himself, it's not our fault he decided to do something like that, we can't look after him eclipse to eclipse without not doing my work, which you demand from us, and if i don't do my work, you come and bite our ears off, yelling on and on how "lazy we are" or how "me and neteyam neglect our work to have fun", we haven't had "fun" in a long long time ,Sir, when was the last fucking time you held us close? Huh? When was the last time we called you 'dad'? …… Right, you don't fucking remember! Because it's been years!! Okay? I never said anything but i can't TAKE it anymore, all we do is follow your stupid orders day and night without a single protest but you think it's not enough and weigh down on us even more, I'm fucking done with this, it's better to die then live this nightmare any longer, we are tired and exhausted, so please just shut up for one moment and let us live!" I was yelling at him at this point, tears were streaming down my face, neteyam held me close, tears of his own running down his cheeks, we haven't slept in days, constantly working and worrying about the upcoming raid that he didn't even grant us permission to sleep, and i meant what i said i would rather die than live this all over again.

He looked at me shocked and surprised, his eyes trailing to neteyam who he stood by my side, backing me up because he had enough himself "she's right, sir, all we've been doing is work for you, we were training on your orders, we did not see lo'ak taking tuk out, but even if we did, she's his sister too, he has the right to have fun with her, so please we are both tired of everything, just let us go, we haven't slept in days because you want us up and running for your raid strategies and didn't even bother to ask if we are okay or not? I agree with y/n, i would too rather meet eywa then go through all this again.. please just let us be"

He just stared back and forth between us, his eyes showed no emotion, he looked cold and unforgiving and what he said next left us speechless "if you want to live under my roof, you will HAVE to follow my rules, and if doing that is gonna make you rebel against me then, be my guest, I'm more than happy if you pack up your bags and get the fuck out of my house!" and believe me when i say i never wanted to punch my father in the face, ever, then i want to right now, i recovered from my shock quickly, my blood boiling at his statement, he would rather have his kids gone then let them live like they have a life of their own? If that's what he wants then he'll get just that.

I straighten my spine and looked at my twin who had the same look as i did and we both knew what we had to do, we stormed inside the tent and started packing the necessary things we needed for at least a week, mom was crying and stopping us both from doing it, getting in between us , yelling at us to stop and listen to her, but we did not stop for one second,she had the chance to be heard and listen but she blew it off, while our father was just staring at us from the entrance with no regret of his words thrown at us, whatsoever, that's fueled my anger even more, picking up the bags we started to walk out but mom dropped down on her knees in front of us as she begged " ma'y/n, ma'neteyam don't so this, it is wrong, your sempul was wrong, I'm sorry i should have stopped this before, please do not leave us like this" she was crying even more than before now, i just rolled my eyes at her and gently removed her hand as did neteyam, we just shook our head, this was it, we had enough of this , we walked out calling for our ikrans when two small arms wrapped around my thigh.

I looked down to see tuk who was crying, her big doe eyes glassed over with tears, with wobbly lips she said "please don't go tsmuke, i love you, please, we can go make flower crowns together if you're sad, you can come with us too tsmukan" i dropped down to her level and kissed her forehead, neteyam following my moves, we pulled her in for a hug as i said " it's okay tuk tuk, but we can't live here now, one day if eywa wants us too, we'll see eachother but before that i will always miss you and keep you close in my memories ma' paysyul" she just nodded even if she didn't understand the depth of my words, she just nodded sniffing, i don't know if the next time i see her, she'll even remember me or not, neteyam said his goodbyes too and we mounted our beasts, we were about to be airborne when a voice called out "you are making a mistake, both of you, we can sort this out, you still have time, you can apologise and it would be all good" and i looked at him shocked, he had the audacity to say that we can sort this out by apologising to him when we didn't even do anything to begin with! In that moment, for the very first time, i hissed at him, baring my fangs on display for him to see, he was taken aback by that and neteyam didn't hold back from hissing either, with that we flew off, in search for a new home for us….

»»————-　⚜　————-««

~ 3rd person pov ~

Kiri and lo'ak were shocked to hear that their siblings have left them for good, they both saw how they were treated but never got in between because they were too scared, but now how they wished they would have so this day would not have existed, neytiri was a complete mess, blaming Jake for driving their kids away from them, she knew she was to blame as much as Jake because y/n had come to her, tried to explain that this was taking a toll on them but she did not hear her, simply trusted Jake on their training and now this was the result. Tuk was crying in her father's arms, not knowing when she'll get to see her tsmuke and tsmukan. Jake was now regretting his actions and words, he shouldn't have been so hard on them, they were his kids! What was he even thinking? But it was too late now, why did he have to say that even when they were departing for good? The weight of the situation weighed down on him when they both hissed at him, for the first time in ever, his kids, his twins, his first born's! How did he fucked up so bad that the only option left for them was to fly away from them….from Him.

That day, all of the omaticayans searched for the beloved twins till the end of the next eclipse but they were nowhere to be found, the whole clan mourned for them for days on end, praying to the great mother for their return but still they never came back, neytiri wept for days for her babies, regretting all her answers towards them, begging eywa to give her children back, yelling at Jake for what he had done but soon accepted her kids were never coming back, they were gone…. forever and she will not get to them grow up any longer.

Jake sat near the tree of souls, memories of his dear twins playing on and on, what has he done? Will he ever get to meet them again? Would they ever forgive him for this? Tears rolled down his eyes, away from everyone he let himself cry, sob for his kids that he so cruelly shoved aside and now he's facing the consequences of his actions, he will never forgive himself for this, never, he just wants his kids back and he's ready to do anything it takes to get them back but it was too late now…..the only thing he can do is wait for them, even if it means forever, he ignited this inferno that he's burning inside of now.

A/n : this took so much time, but i love the way it turned out, I'm brain storming ideas for the next part, so please if anyone has good ideas let me know 🙏🏼💚to be tagged in this series, comment on my posts ✨

Yawne : @fanboyluvr, @callmeoncette, @lu-the-ghost-reader, @brisbriskett, @saltedcoffeescotch, @ducks118, @itscheybaby, @jackiehollanderr, @zoetrope1997, @yeosxxx, @persefolli.

© Neteyamyawne 2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [14]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: self doubt, anxiety over appearance, past medical trauma, sexual tension, like so much sexual tension, some heavy petting, slow burn (i use it as a warning here b/c it’s gonna feel like an attack by time you’re through with this chapter lol)

Word Count: 4,682

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Ch. #14: AM I MAKING YOU QUIVER?

Chapter Summary: Exploration and Anticipation

“i must have loved you in other lives because when i see you it feels like coming home. no one makes me feel more myself than you. when my hand is in yours it’s familiar and safe, like i’ve known your soul since the beginning of time, through all the lives i’ve lived. maybe that’s why my love for you is infinite.” --m.m.

This was the first time you woke up beside Din. Up until now, every moment that involved him taking you to bed or falling asleep on him ended with you waking up alone. Alone or with Grogu. Din always seemed to be up before you. There was absolutely nothing comfortable about the cot you were laying on. At baseline it was hard and covered with crinkling, thin sterile paper. It was also only large enough for one person. Which, granted, with Grogu alone on it the cot had looked massive, but now it held Din, Grogu, and you. You were startled that you hadn’t woken up on the floor.

You had Din to thank for that. He laid on his back, armor and helmet present, with Grogu sleeping soundly on his chest. You laid half on his side, curled around him, but he had one arm under you and resting on your waist clinging to you tightly. Saving you from sleeping on the hard, tile floor wasn’t the only thing you had to thank him for.

Last night had been… difficult. Nothing short of the Maker himself was going to stop you from doing everything in your power to heal Grogu, and even then the Maker might not be able to hold you back, but the cost had been steep. The moment your body registered that Grogu was safe, vitals steady and father in the room, you had crumpled in on yourself like a dying star. Every single demon that called your mind home crawled out of the wood works to plague you.

Surely, you thought, they’d devour you whole and leave you an empty shell. Yet, here you were. Still alive, still functioning, and⏤ dank farrik⏤ you were content. Content, borderline happy. An emotion you thought would be impossible after the events of last night. You felt safe. Lying here, watching Din and Grogu sleep peacefully, Din’s arm clinging to you, you felt like there wasn’t a force in this galaxy that could touch you. Over the last year, a lot of people promised that you’d be protected. Many swore that nothing would hurt you. 

Din was the only one you believed.

Despite wanting to stay in this moment forever, you knew you needed to rise. There were things you needed to collect and, though you had revealed a lot of who you were last night, it’d be nice to not have an audience. Carefully, you untangled yourself from Din’s arm. He stirred for a moment, but you whispered a reassurance. It was a testament to how exhausted the Mandalorian was as he laid his head back and dozed off once more.

As you stood, that’s when the aches began to settle from the night you had. The cot, and technically Din’s armored body, had not been forgiving to your skin, bones, or joints. You stretched as you walked over to the medical shelves. You wanted to make another two doses of the antipyretic, just to have on hand, and an additional dose of antibiotics for Grogu to take. It was overkill, technically, but you didn’t care. It was also mildly illegal for you to take some of these supplies home, but who was going to stop you? Daelar? That coward was off world so he had no say over this clinic, and you had a pretty solid relationship with the Marshal. Enough so that you doubted he’d be arresting you for this.

Quietly, you worked with practiced ease compounding the medications. Without the added stress of a ticking time bomb in feverish child form, you were able to find the action calming. That is until a figure settled next you. Her presence startled you at first, but you recognized the girl you held at gunpoint only hours ago.

“Oh, Aayla, hey.” You greeted in a whisper, to not disturb Din, “I’m sorry about last night. With the blaster and the⏤”

“No, no. Don’t apologize.” Aayla replied. “You were incredible. This is incredible.” She motioned to the medicine you were half done compounding. “I think I’m in love with you.”

“Wait, what?”

“I came here to gain experience before I apply to medical school, and I was so disappointed with what I found.” She said. The girl was practically bouncing in place. “But now I have you! Oh, I am so excited to work with you!”

Your fingers froze and you slowly shook your head. “No. No, no, no, no. I’m not⏤ We’re not⏤”

Aayla tilted her head in confusion. “You’re gonna be the new on site physician, aren't you?”

Maker, in your panic last night had you just told everyone you were a doctor before? You shook your head. You needed to get this done. The sound of Din stirring made you glance over your shoulder toward him. You hummed, “Aayla, can you take out Grogu’s IV? Have you done that before?”

“I have!” She rushed away and you took that as a victory.

Din sat up on the cot at her approach, Grogu still cradled in his arms, and you sighed in relief once more. Grogu still hadn’t woken up, but that didn’t surprise you. You had made both medications last night with a sedative effect. The poor kid needed as much rest as possible. All thoughts were interrupted when Din’s t-shaped visor lifted from Grogu to focus on you. You physically felt his eyes on you and a thrill ran down your spine all the way to your toes. You quickly turned back around and went back to work. You were nearly done with the last one. Would’ve been finished by now if Aayla hadn’t caught you off guard.

As if the universe knew you were trying to stay focused on task and wanted to distract you, an all too familiar form silently approached. Din towered over you, quite the sight in all his beskar, and though his presence hadn’t surprised you the way he curled around you did. Din rested one hand on the counter, his other wrapped around your waist, and he leaned into you so the side of his helmet was pressed against the side of your face. The man might as well have set you on fire with the flamethrower connected to his vambrace. Heat warmed your cheeks and flooded into every nook and cranny of your body.

This was hardly the first time he had broken the barrier to touch you, but this was the first time it wasn’t spurred on by some emotional turmoil. You hadn’t expected him to be so casual. To openly touch you in this way. 

“Hi.” You mumbled, unsure of what else to say.

A low, rumbling chuckle spilled out from the helmet’s modulator and the sound made your breath catch in your throat. Din squeezed your waist. “Hi.” He nodded his head down toward your hands. “What are you doing?”

“I, uh, I’m…” Habit told you to lie. You were supposed to keep this a secret. Nobody was supposed to know about your past. Your logic argued that it was a little late for that and telling Din you were ‘making mixed drinks with the medical supplies’ wasn’t going to convince him of anything. “Medicine.” You blurted. Mentally, you cursed your lack of allure and tact. Maker, why did Din make you babble like an idiot? For once, could you just be cool? Give off an air of mystery and intrigue like he was able to? Kriff. “Uh, medicine for Grogu. Just in case.”

“Good.” He replied. “Smart.”

“What can I say? I have my moments sometimes.”

Din hummed out a sound of amusement, but before you could commend yourself for saying something marginally clever and well thought out, you felt his gloved fingers brush just under the hem of your shirt. The leather warm and firm on the bare skin of your abdomen, and your entire brain short circuited at the motion. 

“You almost ready to go home, ner kar’ta?” He whispered.

Voice broken, you nodded dumbly. Din chuckled once more before pulling back and walking back to the cot. Maker. Oh, Maker. You glanced over your shoulder to watch him saunter away. He didn’t do it on purpose, he didn’t seem to know what his gait did to the people around him, but you could watch Din walk for hours. It was such a casual and strong pace⏤ confidence oozing from every step.

For weeks now, you had been fighting an emotional connection to this man. You were terrified of messing up the good thing you had. It couldn’t be argued that the ship of staying distant had sailed. The wall between the two of you, emotionally speaking, was a pile of dust now. The physical thoughts? Those had always been easy to swat away. You forced yourself to not let your mind wander on his hip to shoulder ratio. To not think about the sliver of flesh you’d see at home between the waistband of his sweatpants and the hem of his shirt. To not think about his strong arms and the way they would feel wrapped around you.

You had been so good about it. Up until now, that is.

Now? Dank farrik, you wanted to jump his bones. 

Maybe it was the excess adrenaline from everything that happened last night, or maybe it was you being too weak to hold back those primal thoughts, but regardless of the reason the desire was there in full force. Your eyes traced him from boots to helmet once more. He was standing by the cot watching Aayla work with his hands on his hips and his head faced down in a studious manner. Oof. A man covered head to toe in metal and the woven material of a flight suit should not look this good. The man didn’t have a single patch of skin showing, yet you were foaming at the mouth feral for him.

As if reading your wanton thoughts, Din’s gaze snapped to you. Your eyes widened. Though you couldn’t see where his eyes were trained, you still flushed as if he were raking over your form, and when his head tilted to the side it felt like your heart seized in your chest. Double oof. You whipped your head back around, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, and tried to get back to the task at hand. Focus, focus, focus.

Medicine for Grogu first, eye fucking his father second.

They had slept in the clinic far longer than Din had thought. The quick trip back home was made in early morning light and the city was beginning to come to life. Normally, this would frustrate him, but Cara had left him a note saying that Karga was excusing them of all duties today⏤ as a thanks. Any issues would run through him. In any other scenario, Din would argue over this plan, but today? No, today he was going to send Karga a damned fruit basket as thanks when he got the chance.

There was a very long list of tasks Din had to accomplish. He needed to hunt down Daelar so he could rip the man’s cowardly spine from his body and beat him to death with it for leaving his son and you without medicine. He needed to repair his vambrace so the communicator would work once more. He needed to ensure Grogu was healing properly⏤ though you were handling that better than he ever could it seemed. And a few other dozen items he always had on his to-do list. One of the more important things on his list of goals for the day? You. 

Din knew he had a bad habit of tunnel vision. He knew because people told him this constantly. He tended to make a goal and then barrel through any obstacle or issue with blinders on until he got what he wanted. It was part of the reason why he was so good at bounty hunting, though it was also the reason why he found himself in so many messes over the years. Today, it would come in handy because you were at the end of this tunnel.

“How much longer will he be asleep?” Din asked. Grogu was bundled up in his arms as the two of you entered into the house. 

You set the bag of supplies you had taken from the clinic onto the kitchen counter then shrugged. “If I had to guess…a couple more hours?”

“Good.” Din replied. Without another word, he began the journey to his room. First things first, he needed to get his son settled. The last time Din had seen Grogu sleep so soundly was when they first met and he saved him from the mudhorn.

Carefully, he tucked the boy into his hammock and shuffled through the toys below to find Grogu’s favorite stuffed frog. Din set it in the hammock as well and took a minute to breath out a sigh of relief. Maker, he was thankful Grogu was safe and healing. He was thankful for you, and he wanted to show that to you in any and every way you’d allow him.

Din stepped back and began to peel off layers of his beskar. The gloves and his gauntlets fell away first followed by his shoulder pieces and his torso. He had even shrugged out of the tight upper half of his flight suit leaving him in the plain t-shirt that sat beneath. His hands drifted to undo his belt, but he heard you pass by his room on the way to the bathroom. Din paused in his process and walked out of his room⏤ almost like a man possessed. As he shut the door behind him quietly, as to not rouse Grogu, he heard the sound of the shower kick on. His body was moving before he fully registered the motion, and his knuckles rapped against the wooden door.

“Yeah?” Your muffled voice called out.

“Can I come in?” It was a weighted question, he knew, and judging on the silence that followed it you were aware of this as well. Your eventual reply was a soft affirmative noise, and Din found himself pushing the door open slowly. He’d keep all his movements slow. Din would give you every opportunity to push him away. The relationship between the two of you was a series of lines drawn in the sand, and Din knew he was blowing past every single one right now.

You stood at the bathroom counter, back to the mirror, and the shower off to the side was already running. His helmet’s sensor told him the water beating down was ice cold. 

“I was thinking a, uh, shower,” You cleared your throat, eyes not leaving him, “might be the best thing for me right now.”

Din gave a small nod. Then took another step in your direction, “I can help with that.” Din said every word slowly, took every step slowly, in order to give you every opportunity to stop him. “If you’d like.”

The corner of your lips twitched up, a sight that made him ache, and you shrugged. “The buttons on this shirt were really tricky.”

It was the only invitation he needed to close the remaining space between the two of you. Din cupped your face with his bare hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks, and he tilted your head up just so he could look at you. Maker, you were gorgeous. The light in your eyes, the way you glowed when you smiled, it put the stars to shame. 

“You’re a work of art, ner kar’ta.” He breathed.

“What does that one mean?” You asked softly. “Ner kar’ta.”

Din tilted his head with a chuckle, “If I told you, I’d have to come up with a new nickname to call you.” 

His fingers trailed down your neck and found the buttons that started at your collar. Din continued to move slowly as he undid each button of your shirt, but this time it was for his own sake rather than yours. He wanted to savor every second of touch he had with you. He soaked in the soft gasps you made every time his cold fingers brushed against your warm torso. 

“I like this look on you, by the way.” You whispered. Din hummed in response⏤ too busy admiring your bare skin to be decent at holding a real conversation. You leaned forward enough that he could pull the shirt down off your body leaving you in only a bra. “The t-shirt. With the beskar plated pants and boots⏤ plus that helmet. You’d have bounties quivering.”

Din ran his hands across your belly, over your sides, then up your back. So close now that his chest was pressed against yours. He kept his voice low and quiet. “Am I making you quiver?” The sharp breath you sucked in was a sound he’d have memorized for the rest of his life. Din let his hands explore your upper body determined to memorize that as well. 

Eventually his hands made it back to your chest and he let his fingers brush against the scar on your collarbone. Briefly he felt you stiffen. “Mesh’la.” Din reassured, then followed it up in a language you’d understand. “Beautiful. You are so kriffing beautiful, ner kar’ta.”

Din traced his hands downward, pausing over your breasts, then continued to drag his palms over your abdomen⏤ his thumb dipped against your navel. When his hands reached the waistband of your pants, he undid the button and zipper then knelt down in front of you. Din helped you step out of the first pants’ leg and he held his hand behind your knee allowing his thumb to tenderly caress circles against your calf. Din stared up at you the entire time. The pupils of your eyes were blown wide with desire and your tempting lips were parted. It was a look that Din wouldn’t mind staring up at forever. He’d spend the rest of his life on his knees for you if it meant you’d continue to look at him in this way.

“Pretty girl.” Din hummed as he worked to get your other leg untangled from the rest of your pants. He focused his gaze back to eye level and took in a shaky breath. Your dark underwear was a shade darker at the center, a damp spot he could just barely see, but it was enough to tell him you were in the same state of being nearly undone by the other. It was a match to the near painful hard on he had pressed against the thickness of his flight suit’s pants. 

It was absolute torture to be so close to what he wanted, but still be separated by so much. Din had never been so tempted to rip the helmet off his head just so he could press open mouthed kisses up your thigh to your damp center. He was an Apostate anyways according to the covert. That title just might be worth it for a taste of you.

“Din.” You breathed his name and he shuddered in response.

Maker, he wanted you to know how much you meant to him. Din wished he could string together paragraph after paragraph about how you made him feel. But, he was bad at talking. Din didn’t have the skills to voice how strong his thoughts were. Action though? Oh, Din was very good at action. And, he planned to reveal how strongly he felt for you with every touch he was allowed. You said Grogu would be asleep for another few hours. Din didn’t think that was near enough time, but it would be a good start to how he planned to worship your body.  

He may not be able to use his mouth, but years of being bound by this barrier made him very, very good with his hands. Din hooked his fingers under the bands of your panties with full intention to rip them off of you, but your hands suddenly landed on his.

Worried, his head snapped up to gauge if you were alright. “Cyar’ika⏤”

“I’m okay. I’m more than okay, I’m⏤” You took a slow, shuddering breath. “But if you get started, I’m going to absolutely fall apart, Din.”

“That’s exactly what I want, pretty girl.” Din chuckled. As the other nickname left his lips, Din wished he knew your real name. Calling you Soran, knowing the little he did, felt wrong. Another chuckle escaped him. It wasn’t often he was on the curious end of this conundrum. 

You ran your hands over his forearms, to his elbows, and you tried to pull him up to stand. Din, reluctantly, stood back up so he was towering over you once more. The bright smile that filled your features was enough to make it worth it. You reached out and set your hands on his shoulders. “It’s my turn to explore.” Din tilted his head, in genuine confusion, and you dragged your hands down to his abdomen. The tips of your fingers brushed against his bare skin and his entire body stiffened in response. “You’re wearing too much clothes.”

Din hesitated, only for a moment, before he reached back to grasp the collar of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. A nervous energy settled in his chest as he let the shirt fall to the bathroom floor. Din watched you as your small fingers ran across his abdomen, chest, and arms. Every scar you came across, you spent the time tracing it softly as he had yours. 

“Mesh’la.” You said though the pronunciation was just slightly off. He chuckled and your smile widened. Your hands trailed to his back and he felt you lightly dragging your nails against his skin. Goosebumps formed on his skin. “I’m serious though, Din. I could spend all day staring at you⏤ touching you.”

Din couldn’t help but shake his head. “You don’t have to lie. I think I have more scars than normal skin, at this point.”

“I’m not lying.” You replied. He didn’t think he could be more surprised by your actions, but you leaned in and pressed your lips against a rather gnarly patch of scarred skin on the left side of his chest where a vibroblade had cut through the armor he had before his beskar. Honest to Maker, an actual whimper slipped from him as his eyes fluttered closed. You continued on. Taking the time to press your lips against every scar you could find while mumbling about how beautiful he was between each one.

Din had never been so intimate with a person before. He was no stranger to sex, to carnal desires, but up until now every encounter had been a means to an end. Quick and to the point. Nearly every time, he’d still have on every piece of his armor. The partners he found would be in various stages of undress, but Din never felt comfortable enough to match them in that state. Everything about this moment was starkly different. He felt safe and he treasured every single tender second that passed. He craved it. Din craved you. Another difference. Before now, his sex life had been a series of hit and runs. Never the same person twice. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious choice, but Din was always traveling and nothing tempted him enough to return and repeat. 

You were not those other partners. Maker, he’d never get enough of you. Din knew that without a doubt and he technically hadn’t even fully touched you yet. That was the stranglehold you had on his mind, body, and soul.

When you pulled back, Din reopened his eyes to stare down at you. He cupped your face once more and for what had to be the thousandth time he wished he didn’t have a wall of beskar separating the two of you. Your hands lifted to hold over his then trailed down to his elbows. Without looking away from him, Din felt your hands on his abdomen. Tracing lower, lower, lower. You undid his belt then buried your hands into his pants to pull them down further. He could feel your hands against his thighs, and it was absolutely pathetic how close he came to falling apart just by having you near his cock.

The sudden loud banging of someone beating their fist against the front door of the house drifted down the hall into the bathroom, and it was just as jarring as if Din had stepped into the cold shower himself. Both of you froze, his hands cupping your face and your hands still buried in his pants. A beat of silence made Din hopeful, but it was followed by a now repeated banging that did not stop.

Din let out a groan and let his head fall forward to lightly rest against your forehead. His frustrated words came out in a near snarl. “I’m going to kill whoever is at the door.”

The sound of your quiet laugh loosened the tension in his shoulders but did nothing to the new level of frustration he had. You pulled your hands out of his pants, a loss that devastated Din, and placed them over his again.

“Well, you know what they say about anticipation.” You said.

“No.” Din shook his head. “I don’t. What do they say?”

Your smile turned sheepish as you shrugged. “I, uh, I don’t actually know.” Din’s lips curled into a smile of his own. “I didn’t think you’d call me on that. To be honest, words just sort of fall out of my mouth when I’m with you.” Din chuckled, and you squeezed his hands. “I don’t think my brain works right when my skin is touching yours.”

Din knew lust. He could recognize the hot, burning solar flare it tended to be. It was blinding. Like, a comet rushing by him leaving him spinning in the heated sparks of its tail end. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel that way with you⏤ Maker, knew that wasn’t the case⏤ but with you there was something else. It came on so slow that he didn’t even realize he felt the comforting warmth until it was nestled deep in his chest. The feeling planted roots in his soul and blossomed into something he couldn't live without. It was invigorating. It was life. It was standing in the sun on a warm day and soaking in every ray of warmth. 

“I need to answer the door.” You mumbled. “Before the knocking wakes up Grogu.”

Din nodded with another sigh. You turned your head, pressing your lips to the palm of his hand, then stepped away from him. You leaned over to turn the shower off⏤ the shower neither of you ever made it to⏤ and he bent over to scoop up his shirt. Din held it out to you. A deliberate decision. You raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t hesitate to pull his too large shirt over your head. Din nodded at the sight of you, appeased at seeing you in his clothes.

“I’ll be right there.” Din said as you hurried away. 

When he knew you were a safe distance away, he pulled his helmet off and rubbed his face with his hands. Anticipation. Din had been on the edge of anticipation for much too long. He was sliding straight into sexually frustrated now. At this rate, when he finally did get a taste of you it might just kill him. 

“Mando!” Your voice called out. He had already gotten used to hearing you use his name after one day. Enough so that the moniker disappointed him. Still, Din felt a flash of pride that his trust had been rewarded. He didn’t even need to tell you not to use his real name in front of others. You just knew. “It’s Karga!”

“I’ll be right there.” He called back and grabbed his helmet. Din would have to step back into his room to dress back into his gear before meeting the High Magistrate. One thing was for certain, he would not be sending Karga a kriffing fruit basket anymore.

mando’a translations

Mesh’la: Beautiful /// Cyar’ika: Sweetheart /// Ner Kar’ta: My Heart

taglist

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy​ @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover​ @teawrites01​ @emily-roberts​ @djarinxore​ @impala1967666​ @shelbyteller @faithrenner​

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for leaving my friend groups Discord server?

💐💐💐 So I can find this later. For context, I was in 2 servers that were friend groups, where my friends would all interact with each other, play & stream games, etc. However, recently we had a situation where someone, let's call her Sasha, would send many vent messages in the general channel, then delete said message before we could respond or even look at the messages, & get mad at us for not responding. She'd also complain about everything that happened in her life, school, in games, & she'd always repeat the same things, over & over again. In the end, we got tired of how she was forcing everyone to stop being as active in the server because of her behavior & actions, so we all made another server, without Sasha, so we could interact with peace without her interrupting conversations. This all happened 3-4 months ago. Then 3 of the people in our new server got a game on Roblox, Deepwoken. Another person, let's call him Kevin, already had the game for a while, so they all got the game & started playing all together. They were incredibly passionate about it, it would be the only thing talked about. One of them got me the currency to get Deepwoken, so I could play with them all. A while later, I got a hang of the game, then when I asked if any of them could play with me, one of them, let's call him Tim, would keep telling me that "Oh, you have to play the game alone to get the real experience, & to learn things better." every time I would ask. Sometimes, rarely, they'd answer some questions I had about the game that I didn't quite grasp yet, & a lot of the time i'd just, not receive any answer. After a while, I got tired of how they didn't respond to me at all, so I just stopped playing. Keep in mind, I don't have any other friends that have the game, so I didn't have anyone else to talk to about it. I love my friends but I felt ignored & was hurt, so I passed ownership to another friend of mine, & left. About a day after leaving, I ended up feeling extremely depressed & overwhelmed with schoolwork, eye appointments, a random limb & joint pain that I had no idea why I was having, & I accidentally unfriended Tim. With my being extremely overwhelmed, thinking it was a good idea at the time, I sent him a message saying "accidentally unfriended u mb. u could also not accep, that works too" Then another message after that one, "okay well um, im gonna assume that you arent going to accept it again so thank you for all youve done for me before you say that im making it sound like i gave up; i have given up i gave up a little while ago" After that, I got a message from him saying that I needed to calm down, that my friend request wasn't the most important thing in his mind right now, & that he's allowed to put it on hold for at least a day before I start telling him some "nvm shit". I sincerely apologized & told him that I needed to take a break, that I hope he's doing okay, & that I hope college goes well for him. I did indeed, take a break, for only 2 weeks because I felt extremely guilty, stupid & reckless. Those weeks felt like forever because that whole thing was on my mind 24/7. It was eating me alive. & No, I am not saying to gain pity. Just trying to explain what I felt. Tim answered, told me that I should grow & change as a person, & that he doesn't mean it in a condescending way, that the server was meant to be a safe space, that in order to make everyone comfortable, there's some things we need to just not say or some things we need to think about a lot before saying them. It's the reason Sasha got booted, & that we give as much as we get. I'm reading back on his messages, & I didn't say anything in the server to make everyone uncomfortable. Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[blaisenova]

what's up gamers, sorry for disappearing for a while there. life's been kicking my ass lately LMAO

to all the people who've sent in requests, i'm working on them!! as for why they're taking so long, see above.

been writing some stuff on and off for a bit, and i'm sure my fellow writers know how it is. when inspiration for something hits, you just kinda shit it out and then move on. i try to put a little more effort into my requests LOL. but i love killer and i also love hurting him, so this is what came out of that. yippee!!

this one goes out to all the people with complicated romantic lives!!!!!!! i see you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

so, take this piece of shit to tide you over. thank you guys for your patience <3

content is below the cut due to length and sensitive subjects. as always, it can be found on ao3 in the reblogs if that's your cup of tea.

cw/tw: major character death (offscreen, but a main point), implied/referenced toxic relationship, implied/referenced suicidal ideation, an all around shitty situationship

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

Grains of dust fell between his fingers and into his joints, making them crackle when he gripped the faded red scarf in his hands. It was so like when his brother had died, and there was something poetic about that thought, and that poetry was the highest insult the multiverse could have asked him to endure. Nevertheless, there was a distinct lack of snow, and, though his surroundings were deeply familiar – the cool toned darkness of the castle’s atmosphere, broken only by the warm, orange glow of the castle’s mounted lanterns – they would never be as familiar as limbo.

Dust piled beneath his knees, scraping against the bone and leaving it raw, but all Killer could do was press his forehead into the pile before him and hold his breath to prevent it from dispelling; to be as close as possible without disturbing the remains.

When a voice rang out from the shadows, he didn’t startle; its presence had been imminent from the start. It held the same chilled, deep tones of the castle, broken only by the warm dredges of poorly concealed laughter behind its words. Despite himself, Killer found that the tension in his bones melted away at the sound.

“So, you finally killed him.”

It wasn’t a question. There was no surprise.

Voice hoarse, Killer laughed, and the dust darted away from his breath and stuck to the liquid determination that marred his cheeks. “He was hurting me.”

Beside him, someone knelt. Fingers, dark with viscous negativity, ran through the particles and pressed it together testingly. The other hummed, then shook the dust from his hands, as if it were something dirty. Killer shouldn’t have felt so offended at the thought.

“Well, obviously,” Nightmare responded, voice flat with disinterest. “It’s about time that you did something about it.”

Clutching the scarf to his chest, Killer’s soul wobbled unsteadily, and he wheezed. “Do you think– Will– He’ll… He’ll be better when he comes back, right?”

At that, came Nightmare’s laughter – warm, comforting, and Killer hated himself at the feeling – and a hand came to rest against his back. Fingers danced what might have been soothing circles over the fabric of his jacket, coaxing out small noises of misery that Killer hadn’t realised he was holding back. “He’s not like you, Killer,” Nightmare hummed. “He won’t come back.”

At that, came Killer’s laughter – warm, comforting, and Killer hated himself at the feeling – and he curled further into the dust as it continued to try and run away. “Oh,” he breathed. Then, again, “oh. That’s– That’s not what I wanted.”

There was a beat of silence, and Killer breathed in the judgement in the lack of words. “Then,” Nightmare finally drawled, steady in a way Killer could not be, “what did you want?”

A sound was pulled from his chest at the question, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “I just wanted it to stop hurting,” he hissed. “I… I didn’t want to lose him forever.”

With another hum, Nightmare’s fingers pressed more firmly into Killer’s back, drawing him out of wheezing breaths he hadn’t realised he’d been taking. “Why not, if he was hurting you?”

“Because I loved him,” Killer spat; immediately; bitterly. Then, through a lump in his throat, “love. Because I love him.”

For a moment, Nightmare’s steady ministrations faltered, as if the admission surprised him, though Killer was certain he must have known; must have felt it even through every other emotion that had led them here. Just as soon as he began to miss the touch, though, they started up again, and, once more, he choked on a sob as his soul spasmed against his chest. Each breath was suffocating and filled with dust, coating his bones from the inside out and sticking to him in a way that made him feel sick.

“I didn’t want this,” Killer repeated, like a plea. “What did I do wrong?”

It ran deeper than a slash across the chest and bones crumbling between his fingers, blood painting his sweater bright red. It must have. It must have been more than the final blow.

“I– I fucked up somehow,” he wheezed. “If I just knew how, I… I could have done better. Should have done better. Then, maybe…”

“There’s no point in trying to fix it now,” Nightmare chided, with a subtle gentleness that Killer might not have recognised if not for the tenderness of the hand that pressed between his shoulder blades reassuringly. “You’re agonising over your relationship with a corpse. It cannot hear your apologies.” A beat. “Although, perhaps, it wouldn’t matter even if it could.”

Sockets squeezing shut, Killer bit back a wail. His knuckles ached from the force with which he clung to the scarf, and the soreness extended to his chest, right where his soul sat. “I hurt him,” he said. “He’s gone.” 

All at once, he sat up, and Nightmare’s hand darted away in surprise, cyan socket wide. Dust speckled the dark streaks across Killer’s cheeks and clung to the bone where he’d feverishly pressed his skull against the pile, as if it might feel his touch and spring back to life. Dull, pale eyelights trembled in his sockets, and the expression of pity before him was blurry and unclear, though, something about that was a mercy. 

At the thought, Killer scrubbed at his sockets furiously, trying to deny himself the grace he didn’t deserve. The moment his vision cleared, however, it was blurred again by tears. Idly, he found himself thankful for the threadbare cloth in his hands, without which his fingers would have found their way to his soul and tried to pry the feelings out themselves; another mercy he refused to indulge.

“He’s gone,” Killer repeated. “I was in love with him. And, now, he’s gone, and it’s my fault. I hurt him.”

Through fuzzy vision, Killer watched Nightmare bare his teeth; it could have been a snarl, or maybe a grimace. “You’ll live.”

“I don’t want to live,” he wailed, unable to stop himself. He blinked, and tar-like tears smeared down his cheeks. They dropped down to his chin, then fell into his lap, and a choked sound of anguish left him as he realised the scarf was stained with them. The damage was done, though, and he sobbed louder as he pressed the cloth to his face. His words were muffled through the barrier, “I loved him. I loved him. Why did I hurt him? Why did he hurt me?”

“The multiverse is cruel,” Nightmare said, “and we are but inhabitants of it, carefully crafted to perpetuate its cruelty. You asked too much when you sought out happiness.”

“Then,” he breathed, pulling himself together long enough to speak, “what was I supposed to do?”

“You shouldn’t have fallen in love,” came the answer, simply. “Certainly, not you. Certainly, not with someone like him.”

His breath faltered once more, and something giddy made his soul tremble. A soft rattling emanated throughout his bones, nausea making some deep, magic based part of him broil and burn. He made a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and held the scarf over his eyes as if going blind to the situation would make it disappear. “Maybe I deserve everything he ever did.”

With a huff that might have been laughter, Nightmare hummed, “Maybe you do.” He gestured to the messy pile of dust – the thin fabric of the scarf easily showing the shifting shadows – and Killer shuddered at the reminder. “And, maybe he did, too.”

At the notion, Killer’s shoulders sagged, and, tiredly, he shook his head. “Not him,” he whispered, reverent. “Never him.”

Again, came that laugh, and there was something frustrated in its bitter tones. “Oh, what a pedestal you’ve placed him on,” he drawled.

“Why don’t you care?” Killer spat, and anger sparked alongside despair like a match to gasoline. All of the exhaustion from before was driven away, and fevered fury took its place. His soul spasmed painfully as he finally yanked the scarf back down to face reality head on, staring Nightmare in the eye with a strange sort of determination to condemn himself. “He was yours, just as I am. Why don’t you care that he’s gone? Why don’t you care what I did to him?”

Refusing the vitriol that he’d been met with, Nightmare’s tone remained carefully even. “And, forget what he did to you?” His head tilted to the side curiously, and he regarded Killer’s crime with indifference. “You’re hardly being fair. It’s not as if you haven’t killed others for much less. It’s not as if he’s not just as replaceable as you.”

Tiredness returned, like a weight in his bones or a fist around his soul, making him wilt. Unconsciously, he leaned towards his king, and Nightmare mercifully closed the distance between them, allowing Killer’s skull to rest against his shoulder. Shame burned alongside misery as he found miniscule comfort in the familiar worthlessness. “No. He was different. He tried,” he mumbled. Then, insistently, “He tried, and he loved me. Who else has ever done that? For me? I don’t deserve it.”

“And, yet, it wasn’t enough,” Nightmare replied, and Killer couldn’t help but cringe at the callousness.

“Well, it should have been,” he persisted. “It should have been enough for me.”

“And, yet,” he repeated, “it wasn’t.”

Scoffing, Killer shifted, pulling his knees up to his chest. He hoped that he looked as small as he felt. “Gee, thanks, Nightmare,” he murmured. “Like I wasn’t already feeling like a piece of shit.” Then, with another scoff and marked bitterness, “I mean– Shit, it’s not even like I was asking for very much, right? Or– Or, I was, I guess, but it shouldn’t be so hard… right? How many people are there in the multiverse that have perfectly healthy relationships? Where they feel like people? Why not me?”

He ran a hand over his skull with an exasperated laugh, pressing his forehead against his knees. “I mean, I know why not. I’m not a person, but is it so much to ask that someone pretends? That… That I don’t fuck everything up without even trying? That I don’t deserve to be hurt?” he hissed, sharply. “That I don’t earn mistreatment simply by being?”

Thick, black rivulets of determination fell from his sockets, and Killer raised his head once more, meeting the chilling cyan of Nightmare’s gaze and feeling an awful lot like he was asking for answers he didn’t really want. “He was trying, Night. I know he was. I saw it,” he insisted, though his words grew soft as his shoulders slumped forward again. “What does it say about me that even when someone is trying not to hurt me, I make them do it anyway? Without even meaning to?” 

He cringed, the tips of his fingers pressing into his bone with a satisfying sting. “And, then, I hurt them back. God, like I don’t deserve it when they do it, right? Like– Like they did?” His gaze went back to the pile of dust. “Like he did? I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t, but I did it anyway, knowing it would hurt, because I’m so selfish that I wanted it to stop hurting me. Like it would ever stop hurting, even if he was gone.”

Finally, Killer fell silent, with a shrug that he could only hope would communicate everything he could no longer force past the lump in his throat and the way his soul wobbled painfully in front of his chest, fighting to make him feel all of the emotions he’d crushed down and bottled up for so long. His sockets burned unpleasantly, but he didn’t dare blink, afraid that the motion would start up a sickening sort of sobbing that he wouldn’t be able to stop until he passed out or died. An unfitting way to go for someone like him; it would hurt, but not enough; never enough, when wallowing in his own self-pity.

When he looked up, he was met with the scrutinising glare of Nightmare’s eyelight, and he felt himself unconsciously straighten, as if that would make him appear any less pathetic.

“Do you know what I think?” Nightmare began, haltingly. “I think… you’re reading too much into the actions of someone who was just as broken as you. Regardless of his intentions, he hurt you, and, now, you’ve hurt him. And, the worst part?” he hummed, almost pleasantly. “It was entirely inevitable. You shouldn’t have fallen in love, Killer.”

Not trusting himself enough to speak, all he could do was nod.

“Pick up the dust of your ruined relationship,” Nightmare continued, and he gently knocked Killer’s skull away from his shoulder as he urged him towards the scattered pile. “Store it away somewhere that you won’t forget; close to your heart, but not in it. Then, move on. There’s nothing more you can do now but that.”

Shaking eyelights, darting from the dust to the tattered scarf gripped between his fingers, stared down at the macabre display of an end that was, in many ways, poetry; poetry of insult. He swallowed his agony. “Will that make it stop hurting?”

Without looking up, Killer could feel the way that Nightmare regarded him, somewhere between disdain and pity. “No,” he said. “But, it’s a start.”

Another dust filled urn on the mantel, each gathering a thin layer of grime that dulls the shine of their golden casket with time. This one would remain golden for a while, like the last, marred by nothing but fingerprints from when he would take it from its place and hold it in his arms. But, eventually, it, too, would lose its beckoning lustre, and its tarnish would mean healing.

Another dust filled urn on the mantel, and here’s to many more.

[j0kers-light]

Hi chaos! I hope you’re having a good day!

I saw your headcanons post for joker x reader who struggles with anemia & loved it so, so much! It’s always lovely when we get to see our favorite characters caring for us in little ways like that, especially when it comes to our daily struggles that often go largely ignored by society. I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a joker x f!reader with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome sometime? And as always, no pressure at all <3

— 🌹

Welcome my sweet 🌹anon!!

You ask, and I deliver! I had to do some extensive research with my mom to make sure I was accurate with this request! I learned so much via articles and short documentaries! Shoutout to my chronic pain sufferers! Chaos acknowledges you and I loves you!!

If anything doesn't sound right let me know 🌹 anon so I can correct it! I hope you enjoy! There are several sub-types of the disease but we'll focus on hEDS for this head canon 🖤✨

Since your disorder is rare and hereditary, there isn't any known treatment or any medical studies/research done to cure the illness. There isn't even a test done to diagnose its so vastly ignored! 😡😡

Society turns a blind eye to _EDS, simply chalking it up to hypermobility and being non-life threatening. WRONG.

hEDS is life threatening and sources fail to address the lifelong chronic pain and other debilitating issues that the rare disease causes. There are 13 sub types with their own crippling ailments.

Joker would hardly notice anything wrong until you go and hurt yourself, which is rather easy due to your fragile skin and joints.

Your body doesn't heal well after injury so bruises linger, scars are permanent, and dislocations are a common occurrence. Yay to pain. 🙃✨

Growing up, it was cool to show off your double joints and overly flexible body but as your age hit the double digits, you noticed the complications of your parlor tricks pretty quickly.

Muscle weakness was the first indicator followed by scarier issues like weak blood vessels and potential organ ruptures. Chronic pain is a reality that you have to endure since your body fails to function properly.

Life grinds to a halt when you have a flare up and Joker arches an eyebrow when you stay in bed for days at a time and work remotely.

Just moving is an impossible feat and your body punishes you for defying its demands for rest. You still have to live your life! Somehow.

Joker tries to crack jokes but you roll your eyes and ignore him. You’re just not in the mood.

He doesn't understand how you can go from practicing yoga in the sunroom to being bedridden in the same hour so he assumes you're faking being sick and that thought makes you cry.

Knowing that your lover believes that you are acting, hurts more than your aching joints and Joker immediately notices when your mental health begins to decline.

Now he's worried. When you can, you do as much as you're able, never knowing when your body will betray you and confine you to bed. Every moment is precious and Joker will never understand that.

Life returns back to "normal" but Joker demands answers. He's still in shock.

Weren't you on death's door just yesterday? Now you're returning to work, laughing and smiling, as if nothing is wrong. He doesn’t know what to think.

So he disappears to search the internet and after hours of clicking away, he's just as confused as when he started. (I feel you J..)

Joker refuses to believe there is nothing he can do to help his Bunny. This hEDS can't keep you down forever. Right? 👀

Why aren't there any studies, or any institutions pledging to find a cure for this?! Does he have to kidnap a doctor or two to get the ball rolling?

Joker remembers he does have a doctor on his payroll. He calls up Sarai and bombards her with the same questions he typed into Google.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY BUNNY?🧑‍💻

Sarai doesn't give him much else to go on except keeping you comfortable, well medicated if you take any, and to continue your physical therapy but not too much exercise as to aggravate your joints.

Great... so he's back to square one!

Joker hears you groan from the next room and goes to check on his poor Bunny. He would find a way to make you feel better himself.

You had dozed off for a long quick nap and woke up to the sound of something falling over in the bathroom.

It still hurt to move but at least it wasn’t agonizing anymore. This current pain level you could tolerate.

You were willing yourself to toss the covers back when Joker appeared in the doorway looking rather sheepish.

“Hey doll. Uhh are ya feeling up to move?” He scanned you over as if he could gauge your pain tolerance by sight. Your small smile gave him some hope.

“Mmm. I gotta get up and fix something to eat.” You were weak and probably dehydrated from lying in bed all day, but that was to be expected.

Joker watched you swing a leg over and rushed to your side. “I uh.. ran a bath. If ya want. A Reddit post mentioned ah.. hoT water being helpful.”

It didn’t dawn on you just what Joker was saying. All you heard was the latter part of his sentence. “You have a Reddit account?”

He smacked his lips while helping you slowly walk towards the en-suite bath. To your surprise, the bath was waiting for you with a rolling cart next to it, hopefully with something to snack on.

You were speechless. “J… you did all this for me?”

He looked away and you got the impression that he was blushing. He still had his clown makeup on so you couldn’t tell for sure.

“Thank you J. I mean it.” He helped you sit on the nearby wooden bench after you kissed his cheek. “Um. I can undress myself.. if you need to—ah! Okay! You’re seriously doing this.”

Joker started with your socks and worked his way up until not a single thread of fabric was left on your body. You felt so exposed sitting there nude while Joker dipped his hand into the bath water.

It was hot enough to be medicinal but not scalding. He snapped his fingers and dashed over to the storage area to grab your bag of epsom salt before dumping a few cups in.

You got to see a rare softer side of Joker hard at work. No one would believe you if you reported this. The Joker, Gotham City’s worst nightmare, was preparing you a bath with the greatest care.

“All-right-yyy ya ready pretty girl?” Joker’s voice snapped you out of your daydream. He playfully flicked some water at you to get your attention.

You couldn’t flinch away and huffed your displeasure.

“I couldn’t resist, Bunny. Now in ya go! Hold onto my shoulders, yeah?” He picked you up as if you were made of glass and gently lowered you into the bath. “Easy doll, I know it’s hot. Just relax.”

Joker shushed any whimpers you made and held you steady underneath the water. For the next few unbearable moments, Joker was right there whispering sweet nothings to calm you down.

Finally you relaxed with a deep sigh, “This is perfect.”

“Good. If ya want, you can rest a bit. I’ll keep you.. well you know.. from drowning. But ya do need to eat something first. Here.” He dried his hand off and fed you a [insert favorite snack].

You felt like royalty and Joker had no issue helping you adjust to the role. He fed you piece by piece, offering you sips of water in between while holding your hand and rubbing soothing circles on your skin with his thumb.

The contact warmed your heart. Joker may not know much about your medical condition, but he would always be there to support you.

You couldn’t ask for a better partner.

[doberbutts]

As Disability Discourse 2.0 crosses my dash yet again I am left sort of wondering where the line is.

I am physically disabled. I am also neurodivergent. I do not consider myself mentally ill but I know that there are people out there with my exact diagnoses that do consider themselves mentally ill.

I have a brain injury. You can point to it on an MRI. I have the images to prove it. I had to re-teach myself how to speak. Those weird typos I have sometimes? Yeah my brain just reads letters wrong and sometimes spits out the wrong word or tense or grammatical structure sorry, that’s what happens when your brain gets shaken around in your head like a maraca following a serious car accident. I have a permanent tremor in my right hand and arm which results in me being incapable of fine motor control when having a flare. I am photosensitive and relatively intolerant of stress. I knocked an eye loose and was thankfully able to keep it but occasionally need to cover it or else it feels like someone is stabbing me directly in the brain when there is literally any light or movement whatsoever.

Did you know that over 30% of people who survive TBIs debate and even attempt to kill themselves within the first year? It’s still a bit unresearched but many neurologists believe it’s because many survivors have a hard time adjusting to their new normal when it feels like they have lost all control over themselves. I did not get that bad but I had many meltdowns where I would sob uncontrollably because it was all just Too Much, and the knowledge that it would be Too Much, Forever was curse over comfort.

Is that a mental or a physical disability? A part of my brain is damaged, like a scar. It is entirely neurological and mental in its symptoms.

I was diagnosed with a different brain condition, one that affects the autonomic nerve within my brain, causing fainting episodes, out-of-control mast cells, horrific digestive problems, and joints that bend a little too much. Average quality of life after diagnosis is roughly equivalent to someone with end stage heart failure.

A part of my brain is faulty and always has been. It is entirely physical in its symptoms. Is this a mental or physical disability?

My knee hurts. I was knocked off my bike one day on my way home from college. It was a hit-and-run driver and I didn’t have the money or the insurance to do more than slap a brace on it and limp around for several weeks while it healed. Less than a decade later it gave out. I was completely unable to walk for months. I lost my job. I ended up switching careers entirely so I could sit. I walk with a cane. I have to physically drag myself up stairs with my arms and my “good” leg. I spend nights grasping at my knee willing it to stop spasming as I try to get some sleep. I’ve had to beg for painkillers. Surgery will not help it. My knee is Completely Fucked, Forever.

This is a clear physical disability, that much is for sure.

I recently went to see Spiderverse. I warned my friend that it was entirely possible I’d need to duck out at some point because the movie would overwhelm me. I also warned her that I would probably need to immediately rest or go home and would not be able to hang out because I was anticipating it to be Sensory Hell. I went in prepared with my own snacks, tinted glasses to take the edge off the flashing, and even looked away during some of the worst of it.

I needed to duck out after an extended chase scene which featured a lot of flashing lights. I was able to come back and finish the movie. I needed nearly an hour of rest to stop shaking and be safe to drive myself home. I immediately went to bed upon getting home at about 4pm and by the time it was night had a pounding headache and shivers. I knew this would probably happen because the first one was very bad for my brain injury and I’d been pre-warned the second one was worse about it- truly I think it is really those movies’ biggest flaws is that they are very not friendly to people with problems with bright flashing lights.

My knee did not prevent me from entering the building. The theater was wheelchair accessible.

But even with sensory provisions, my brain injury and faulty nerve made it a monumental task to just finish a two and a half hour task of literally just sitting there.

I could go in. Staying was the part that was in question.

[accioprocrastination]

Estranged (part 2/?)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

A/n: fluff, angst, grief

Summary: Rooster and his ex best friend go to dinner

The two of you drive in convoy to the small diner that you spent 90% of your childhood in.

Every time you look in your rearview mirror and see is the broncho he's had since you were 18, you feel a mixture of giddiness and fear.

"Why did I fucking agree to this?" You mutter pulling into the parking lot.

Without giving yourself more time to worry about the uncomfortable reality of this reunion, you walk over to his car and wait for him to clamber out.

You follow him as he walks to your booth - the third one in from the back on the right. As a kid you would always insist on sitting in this exact booth because this is the best location to people watch. Scooting in across from him you wonder if he remembered that or if this is a weird coincidence.

"What's that look for?" he asks eyebrows scrunched together.

"Huh?" You respond, trying to ignore him as you pick up the menu from the table.

"Why bother looking?" He asks eyebrows raising, knowing that you both already know what you're ordering.

"What if something else looks better?" you ask.

"Better than the world's best pancakes, what planet are you on over there Kazansky?" He teases.

You roll your eyes as a waitress starts approaching your table.

She takes your orders all the while giving Bradshaw heart eyes. You watch her walk away and glance between the two of you in your peripheral. She's debating whether he's single. Or whether she can take you.

"So?" He asks expectantly.

"So what?" You respond.

"Tell me everything that has happened since we last spoke." He clarifies.

"I drove here and - " You say and he kicks you playfully under the table to stop you talking.

"You know that's not what I meant!" he interrupts.

"Yeah I know..." You respond unsure of what he actually wants you to say. You haven't spoken to Bradley in years it would feel weird to keep things surface level and weird to be as intimate as you used to be.

"Things haven't been great since the last time we spoke." You admit.

"I'm sorry about your dad. I heard through the grapevine that he's sick again." He says reaching for your hand across the table.

You change the conversation topic back to him, asking "What about you, how have you been?"

"A bit all over the place. Work is great now but it's taken forever to get to that stage. I got married since the last time we spoke - " he starts summarising his life over the last few years.

You don't interrupt him but the thoughts in your head come to a grinding halt and then suddenly torrent your mind to the point that whatever he says next is lost on you.

He got married and didn't invite you to his wedding.

Mr Perfect married someone you've never met.

"How did you meet her?" You ask automatically presuming their gender.

"At a joint birthday party of two pilots I was stationed with a few years back." He responds.

"Cool." You say not bothering to sound less disinterested.

You know you fell out of touch but it hurts that he wouldn't invite you to his wedding.

How could he marry someone you don't even know the name of?

"What about you, are you seeing anyone, married, divorced etc?" He asks.

"You know me Brads, my standards are too high to date people." You respond not telling him that your life is in the exact same place it was last time you spoke, except this time your dad is dying.

"Hahahahaha yeah do you remember when Ryder tried to get you to go out with him?" He questions, bringing an uncontrollable smirk out on your face.

"Stop." You say to him with a giggle. "That was the most embarrassing day of my life it genuinely gives me nightmares thinking about that still! We were literally eleven - surely people have enough common sense not to do that at that age?" You ask giving Bradley a dramatic look that makes him start cackling.

You snigger thinking that no one at that age should have a total lack of self awareness to the point that they think asking someone out via a break dance routine is a good idea.

"He broke his fucking leg doing that and you still said no." Bradley is red from laughing at the memory of you trying to shield behind him while being serenaded.

You both stop laughing as the waitress approaches the table and you order your usuals.

"Shocking choice." Bradley murmurs as you went for the same thing you always go for. You roll your eyes at him, annoyed that he would have to comment on that.

Your phone buzzes on the table between the two of you with a text from Coyote, then seconds later it buzzes with a second text "Hangman". Bradshaw mouths from across the table.

You don't have previews on so all you can see is his name on your screen.

It is quickly followed by an onslaught of other texts.

"Do you want to get that?" Bradley asks.

You shake your head not one of those people who will sit glued to their phone when out with someone else.

"You seem close with Hangman." he probes.

"Yeah." You respond seeing the distain on his face as clear as day. "I take it you're not?"

He huffs.

"He's an idiot in the air and on the ground." Bradley shakes his head.

You open your mouth to call him the idiot when the waitress appears.

"Oh you're a pilot?" the waitress asks placing his food in front of him.

He nods totally oblivious to her advances or completely uninterested.

She's literally put lipstick on since she took our orders.

You're annoyed.

This feels awkward and forced and all you really want to do is pick up your phone and read whatever Jake and Javy are saying.

The waitress comes back to ask if everything is okay with the food.

You've gotta be joking, you think when you see that she's taken off layers to show some skin and has undone a few buttons on her shirt.

"Do you think if we stick around long enough she'll get naked?" you remark.

He raises his eyebrows at you looking completely clueless.

"Who?" he says confused.

"The waitress you dipshit." you say without thinking. "She's been flirting with you all night, you cannot be that oblivious." You add shaking your head.

"You jealous?" he teases.

"In your dreams Bradshaw." you roll your eyes, not admitting that there might be some truth behind that.

Part 1 in case you missed it

Masterlist

[dearabby1990]

Chapter 11: You didn’t hear it from me..

Eddie leans forward ready for whatever information Gareth has to offer. “Okay dude I’ll tell you everything I know but you didn’t hear it from me understand?! My mom will kill me if she finds out I’m saying anything her Aunt & my mom have been friends since middle school theyd both have my head on a stick!” Eddie nods in agreement & extends his hand as a solid promise to his friend not to say a word about what he’s about to hear. “I guess I’ll start at the beginning.. her aunt & cousin have been camping with my mom & I for as long as I can remember mostly because of my dad taking off her uncle took me fishing and hunting a lot manly activity is what he’d call it & every once in awhile Jessica would have Jamie with her so I’ve known her for quite some time too it’s why we waive at each other it’s not like that at all trust me we’re not each others type she’s more like a sister if anything. I know some of her but the younger her before everything happened… well her mom ended up getting really sick it was bad Ed in & out of the hospital for what felt like forever just to end up being hooked to a million machines at home for hospice.. during the hospital stays Jamie was passed around a lot staying with random family members her dad always prioritized work before Jamie or her mom but we all knew he was cheating with his secretary I overheard my mom on the phone with her Aunt Betty Jane & after Jamie’s mom passed away her dad took to the bottle & started hurting her when he wasn’t completely ignoring her she took a map out one day & tossed a dart at it in hopes of starting a new life away from all the bullshit & when it landed here she thought it was gods way of saying she needed to be with her aunt… Jamie has been through hell shit even her prom was ruined by some fuckin prick jock I’m still looking for that piece of shit too I’ll kill him I swear it!!” Eddie’s eyes pop out of his head “Gareth what the fuck happened at prom?! What guy did he hurt her?!” Gareth put his hands on his friends shoulders making him sit back down. “Look this dude was a grade a prick him & his jock buddies made a bet that he couldn’t get her to goto prom with him & put out & embarrassed her in front of the whole school they carried her minus the blood he made fun of her & said something along the lines of she looks like a pig or something but I remember Jessica being on the phone at my house & the way Jamie was crying it just made my blood boil it’s why she’s so self conscious about how she looks in her head she thinks shes ugly,fat & undeserving of love because of all she’s been through it’s why she’s not letting you in Eddie I wish you would’ve came to us before the twerps but then again you didn’t know I knew her” Eddie’s heart breaks as he tries to wrap his head around all he’s just been told. How could anyone do such things to you? Eddie thought you’re pure perfection & anyone who’s hurt you he’d surely teach a lesson or two or kick their ass whatever came first. Him & Gareth share a few joints as he fills him in on all he knows of happy Jamie so he can help open her heart to him he’d do anything to make you smile. Learning your favorite colors & songs favorite flowers and animal to see at the zoo of course it’d be a Siberian tiger they’re exotic & beautiful like you. He’d be sure to go get you a stuffed animal & write you a letter to leave on your doorstep he is determined to get you to not only open up to him but fully let him in. You’re all he can think about he’s already written several songs and made several d&d characters that all look oddly like you even Mike & dustin noticing the resemblances of each elf & fairy that’s been presented over the past few weeks. He’s been trying to find the right words to say to you he’s already got a 2 foot stuffed tiger at home for you in his closet & a card all picked out and set on his desk he just doesn’t know what or how to say what he feels. Eddie isn’t used to feeling this way about someone the idea of love itself scared him to death but not when it came to you he was ready.

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 10

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, mentions of selling drugs, angst, cursing, smoking weed, suggestive

Chris's POV

The adrenaline from the fight with Y/n still coursed through my veins as I stumbled into my room, slamming the door behind me. The echo of our argument replayed in my mind like a broken record. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck, every part of me ached, not just from the physical exertion but from the emotional turmoil. How had it escalated so quickly? One minute, we were joking around, and the next, I was standing there, revealing my darkest secrets, while she looked at me like I was a stranger. It crushed me.

Dropping onto my bed, the weight of the world hit me in my chest. I needed to take the edge off, needed something to help me forget the angry words and the hurt in her eyes. I reached for my stash on my bed side table, my hands trembling slightly as I rolled a joint. The familiar motions were supposed to soothe me, but all I could think about was Y/n’s face when I told her the truth about my life. The way she’d looked at me when I mentioned the cartel, like I was some sort of monster.

I walked out to my backyard and took a long drag, inhaling deeply, hoping the smoke would clear the fog of confusion and regret, but it only served to intensify my thoughts. I paced in the grass, the smoke curling around me, and I couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom that settled in my stomach. Y/n was the last person I wanted to hurt, but here I was, tangled up in a life I never wanted her to be a part of. I’d cut her out for her safety, convinced it was the right choice. But now, standing on the line of losing her forever, I wasn’t so sure.

My mind drifted back to the memories we shared, the laughter, the innocent joy of a portion of our teenage years. I remembered the promises we made to always be there for each other, but I’d shattered those promises. It was killing me, and I felt more trapped than ever.

By the time I finally collapsed onto my bed, it was midday. Sleep came slowly, and when it did, it was filled with restless dreams of Y/n, my heart aching with every turn. I woke up to the sun hanging low in the sky, filtering through my curtains, and grabbed my phone, my heart leaping as I saw a message from her that just came in.

"Hey, I’d like to talk. Can we meet up?"

It was like a lifeline thrown into turbulent waters. I jumped out of bed, adrenaline kicking in again, and quickly replied, my fingers flying over the screen.

"Of course. I can come pick you up if you like?”

Y/N's POV

I paced the living room, my mind still swirling with everything that had happened after the party. My parents were back from their weekend away, and I could already feel the questions piling up. I didn’t want to deal with their prying. Not now. Not when I was about to meet Chris, the guy who’d just opened up a whole new level of chaos in my life.

Their laughter filtered in from the kitchen, my dad’s booming voice mingling with my mom’s soft giggles. It was a comforting sound, but it also reminded me of how out of place I felt. They’re a far cry from the situationship I’m placed in right now. How could I tell them I was meeting Chris? The guy I’d just found out was a drug dealer? I shook my head, feeling the anxiety creep up my spine.

I couldn't tell them at all. I walked into the kitchen to greet them, and had a small catch up before they decided to go to bed after being tired from all their travelling. “Good night, I might head out for a walk in a bit..” I called out as I headed towards my room, gunning toward my balcony, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

I climbed over the railing through the tree house window and climbed down onto the grass, making my way around the side of the house. The air was cooler outside, as the sun was fully set and my heart raced with anticipation and uncertainty. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this conversation would change everything.

When Chris arrived, I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he rubbed the back of his neck like he was trying to ease the burden of the world off it. I felt a bit of sympathy for him. He had his demons, and now, he was standing in front of me, ready to confront them.

“Hey” he said softly, his voice hoarse.

“Hey.” I smiled faintly, trying to push aside the heaviness of our last encounter. “Let’s go.”

We climbed into his car, the silence stretching between us as he drove toward an empty parking lot a few blocks away. He parked and I turned to him, feeling the weight of everything hanging in the air.

“Okay, so..” I started searching for the right words. “We need to talk about what happened.. About you.”

Chris took a deep breath, his eyes meeting mine. “I know I should’ve told you sooner. I just.. I didn’t want to drag you into this mess. I thought I was protecting you.”

“By lying to me?” I shot back, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. “You’re involved in something dangerous, Chris. I don’t want you to end up in jail.. or worse.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. I’m trying to figure it out.” he replied, running a hand through his hair. “Nate got pulled into it, and I thought I could stay away, but it wasn’t that easy. Once I was in, it was like a trap. But seeing you again, it felt right. I didn’t want to lose you again.”

My heart softened a little. “So, what are you going to do about it? I can’t just sit back and watch you get deeper into this. If you want this to work, you have to make an effort to get out.”

“I’ll do anything for you, Y/n.” he said, his voice steady and serious. “I promise I’ll try. I want to find a way out of this life.”

I studied his face, searching for any sign of deception, but all I saw was sincerity. “Do you.. do you take drugs yourself?”

He hesitated, looking down for a moment. “I smoke weed. That’s it. I don’t do anything harder, I swear. I just sell it.”

I sighed, the tension in my chest easing slightly. “Okay. I just need to know you’re not in over your head.”

“I’m not. I want to make things right.” he assured me. “Let’s figure this out together.”

“Alright..” I said slowly, feeling a spark of hope. “But this isn’t just a one time thing. You need to be committed to making changes.”

"You might need to give me some time.. You know to figure out how to go about it."

"Well that's a start I guess."

He smiled, and it was like a weight had lifted from my shoulders. We talked and laughed a bit, the earlier heaviness fading away as we settled into an easy rhythm, the way it used to be.

As we drove back toward my place, I glanced at him, a playful idea popping into my mind. “Do you have any weed on you?”

Chris raised an eyebrow, “Uh..yeah I do.. Why?”

I took a breath, choosing my words carefully. “Would you.. let me try some weed? Just once?”

His face shifted immediately from relaxed to slightly shocked, his brows knitting together in concern. “Wait, you want to smoke weed? Now?”

I bit my lip, feeling a bit self conscious. “I mean, yeah. Just once. I’ve never tried it before, and.. well, I want to understand your world a little better.”

He looked at me, searching my face, like he was trying to make sure I was serious. “Y/n.. it’s not really a big deal, you know. I don’t even smoke that often myself.”

“I get that” I replied, leaning a little closer to him, “but I’ve been curious about it for a while. And if I’m going to try it, I’d rather do it with you. Just this once. It’s not like I’m planning to make it a habit.”

Chris sighed, looking away for a moment, clearly torn. “I don’t know. You don’t have to do this to understand me. You don’t have to be a part of everything I do.”

I put a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “I know. But tonight, it feels.. right. It’s just one little thing. Besides, we’ll be safe. We can go up to the treehouse where no one will bother us.”

He let out a soft chuckle, a trace of amusement in his eyes. “You’re really serious about this, huh?”

“Completely” I said with a grin. “So? Are you going to let me in on the secret, or do I have to ask someone else?”

He sighed again, but I could see him slowly relenting, the protective hesitation softening in his gaze. “Fine” he finally said. “But just this once. And only because you’re way too stubborn for your own good.”

I beamed, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “Promise.”

Together, we got out of the car and made our way toward the treehouse tucked away in the backyard, its old wooden steps creaking slightly under our weight. The fairy lights were still hung up from our date a few days ago, so I switched them on to create a bit of atmosphere, before arranging the blanket and pillows.

Once we were settled in the small, cosy space, Chris pulled a small pouch and rolling papers out of his jacket pocket. I watched, fascinated, as he carefully rolled the joint, his hands working with practised ease.

“This feels so..  surreal” I admitted, leaning back against the treehouse wall.

He gave me a teasing look. “You’re not getting scared, are you?”

“Me? No way.” I smirked, hiding the nervous energy bubbling up inside.

Once the joint was ready, he held it between his fingers, lighting it and taking a slow drag before passing it to me.

“Alright, so here’s the deal” he said, his voice low, calm, almost instructional. “Take a small inhale, but don’t try to pull it too deep your first time. Just let the smoke fill your mouth, then breathe it in slowly and exhale. Don’t rush it.”

I nodded, holding the joint carefully, feeling its warmth between my fingers. I took a small breath, the smoke tasting strange, earthy as it hit my throat. Almost immediately, I started coughing, my eyes watering as the harshness of it caught me off guard. Chris chuckled softly, watching me with a mix of amusement and sympathy.

“Yeah, that first hit always catches people by surprise” he said, patting my back gently. “Just take it slow. It’s not a competition.”

I laughed, still coughing a bit but determined. “Okay, okay. I’ll go easy.”

This time, I took a gentler pull, letting the smoke settle in my mouth before breathing it in, feeling a warmth unravel in my chest. I handed it back to him, trying to keep a straight face as I resisted another cough.

“See?” he said, his gaze softer, more relaxed. “Not so bad.”

“Not bad at all” I replied, feeling the first gentle waves of calm starting to spread through me.

We passed it back and forth, the silence between us comfortable, the flicker of his lighter illuminating the space between drags. I watched him, noticing the way his shoulders relaxed, his posture easy, the usual weight he carried seemed a little lighter here, away from the world’s eyes.

As the joint burned down, I couldn’t help but feel a new kind of connection with him, one that was less about the past or the future, and more about this shared, simple moment in the present.

I looked over at him, catching his gaze, and for a moment, everything felt like it was supposed to. Just us, like we used to be, but with a little more understanding, a little more honesty. The night air was still, the stars just beginning to peek through the branches above, and I couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new for us.

The warmth of the weed had settled deep into my skin, making everything feel more alive, more intense. My senses were heightened, every little touch sending a thrill through me. I could feel his warmth, see every detail in his eyes, and I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on his lips.

I shifted a little closer, feeling bolder, more curious. “So, are you going to let me in on more, or are you keeping all the secrets to yourself?” I teased, my voice a low murmur.

Chris’s mouth curved into a smirk as he looked at me, his gaze flicking to my lips before meeting my eyes again. “What else do you want to know?” His tone was smooth, with a hint of mischief that only drew me in more.

“Hmm” I said, leaning in a bit closer, my fingers lightly tracing the edge of his arm. “Maybe everything.”

The intensity in his eyes deepened, and I felt his fingers tighten slightly on my knee, the warmth of his touch spreading through me like a spark catching fire. His other hand reached up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, lingering just a moment too long, his fingers trailing along my cheek. It was such a simple touch, but it felt electrifying, sending a pulse of warmth straight to my core.

“Careful” he murmured, his voice dropping low, almost a whisper, as his thumb brushed over my cheek. “You might get more than you’re bargaining for.”

I held his gaze, feeling the pull between us. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want” I replied softly, my voice steady but filled with a new intensity I hadn’t realised I had. I was aware of every inch of him, every movement, every breath.

He leaned in closer, so close that his breath brushed against my skin, and I felt my heart race, anticipation building between us. His hand moved up, fingers lightly tracing the side of my face, his touch soft but sure. I felt myself instinctively leaning into him, our faces inches apart, his gaze locked on mine with an intensity that made my pulse quicken.

“I don’t think I can hold back much longer if you keep looking at me like that.” he murmured, his voice rough around the edges.

“Maybe I don’t want you to.” I whispered, a smile playing on my lips.

With that, the space between us disappeared, and his lips met mine in a kiss that was slow, warm, and filled with a fire that felt like it had been building for ages. His hands found my waist, pulling me closer as I wrapped my arms around his neck, sinking into the kiss, feeling like I was falling and floating all at once.

The treehouse felt like it was spinning, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was this moment, this connection, as I kissed him back, letting the night and all my worries fade away.

Chris pulled back just slightly, his face close enough that our breaths mingled in the cool night air. His eyes searched mine, serious yet soft, as if he were weighing something deeply important. I could feel his hesitation, the way he was holding back despite everything between us.

He brushed his thumb along my cheek, his hand warm and steady. "Are you sure about this?" he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want you to feel.. pushed or anything."

I looked up at him, my heart racing but my thoughts perfectly clear. He was giving me an out, a chance to step back, and I knew he’d respect it if I did. But there was no doubt in my mind. I wanted to be here, I wanted him. Every inch of him.,

"Chris" I said, my hand gently resting over his. "I’m sure. This is what I want."

He let out a slow breath, relief flickering across his face, and his shoulders relaxed as he held my gaze. The intensity between us deepened, something unspoken passing as he studied me, seeming to memorise every detail. His thumb traced a small circle on my cheek, a gesture that felt both grounding and electrifying.

"Good" he murmured, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Because I don't think I could pull away even if I tried."

I leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his touch, and for the first time, any lingering fear or hesitation melted away completely. I

"Then don't pull away" I whispered, smiling up at him, inviting him closer.

He closed the small distance between us again, his lips finding mine in a kiss that was deep, slow, and filled with everything unspoken between us.

The next thing I knew, I was on top of him.

a/n : everything is just going so well atm!!!

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo

[starksbabie]

You Belong With Me

Eddie’s got what he always dreamed of, he is passing his classes, Hellfire is going great, Corroded Coffin is sounding better than ever, Chrissy Cunningham is his girlfriend, and his best friend Y/N is right by his side.

A/N: A fic inspired by Taylor Swift’s You Belong With Me where Eddie overlooks his best friend who is completely in love with him... or does he? Hurt/Comfort. One of my fics with a happy ending.

Wordcount: 1.4k

Eddie laughs keeping his arms tight around Chrissy’s waist as she groans and stomps her foot in response to a joke he made.

“Aw, come on babe it’s just a joke!” Eddie laughs, pressing a loud wet kiss to Chrissy’s cheek, making the strawberry blonde girl gasp.

“Eddie!” She squeals.

You just roll your eyes at their antics and look back at your lunch, you still can’t really believe that they’re dating. Of course, you had known about Eddie’s crush on Chrissy forever, but never in a million years did you think the head cheerleader, queen of Hawkins High, would return his affections.

You look up when Eddie snaps his fingers in front of your face.

“Hello? You in there?” He asks, giving you an odd, slightly concerned look, you notice the cafeteria is mostly emptied out now.

“Yeah, sorry just thinking about that quiz in Ms. O'Donnell's.” You look at him and smile packing up your stuff.

“…we have a quiz in O’Donnell’s today?”

“Eddie!”

You lay back on your bed listening to your new Van Halen album, when your window slides open and Eddie comes tumbling in.

“You know one of these times you’re going to get caught in here.” You laugh, as he rights himself and settles himself back onto your bed next to you. “Is this your new album?” He smiles, ignoring your statement, putting his hand behind his head as he relaxes next to you, looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to your ceiling.

“Yeah, it’s really good, I think I like Sammy Hagar.” You say, looking at him, taking in his side profile, admiring the slope of his nose and the fizz of his curls as his listens to the music filling your room.

He turns to look at you, and you think you’ve been caught but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice that you were staring.

“Really? Better than David Lee?”

“Yeah. Here, Listen to this.” You get up and put on a song that you had listened to earlier for him, before laying back down. The two of you lay there side-by-side, and finish the entire album before arguing over which lead singer is better.

After a while Eddie puts on another album and breaks out a joint that he brought with him. The two of you lay next to each other smoking, enjoying the music and each other’s company without feeling the need to fill the air between you with endless conversation. Once the joint is reduced to nothing but ash and the album has been flipped to the ‘B’ side Eddie starts telling you his plans for after graduation.

“I’m gonna do it. I swear it, I’m getting out of this town one way or another. I know my uncle wants me to come work at the plant with him, but I just can’t imagine that as my future. I want to play stages. I’m going to get me a warlock and I’m going to LA and I will find someone, anyone who will take me seriously.”

You smile at him as he talks, you know if anyone deserves to get out of this hick town it’s him. His imagination, his dreams, his personality. They’ve always been too big for Hawkins.

“And it doesn’t hurt that Chrissy is going to UCLA next year either.” He adds.

There it is, the one thing that could dampen the amazing evening you’d been having, you’d almost forgotten about her.

“Oh… She is?”

“Yeah, she got the letter this afternoon. I’m going with her. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, Y/N. I’m so lucky.” He smiles and sits up, pulling his shoes back on, “I should get going, but I’ll see you tomorrow for Hellfire.”

You watch as he climbs out the window, before closing it behind him. You sit back on the bed and put your head in your hands and wishing, and hoping and wanting more than anything for Eddie to see you as more than his best friend.

You don’t know why you’re here. You sit next to Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire boys in the bleachers watching Lucas play basketball, at least that’s what you’re telling yourself. You know Eddie is here for one reason, who’s wearing a short skirt and currently standing on the sidelines of the game. You try your best to focus on the game but it’s hard to not notice how Eddie whistles at her after she does a cartwheel, or how he claps loudly each time she does something.

After the game everyone decides to go to Benny’s for milkshakes, but you excuse yourself saying that you have a headache. You walk home and lock yourself in your bedroom laying in your bed feeling so lonely over the fact that the man you are head over heels for, doesn’t see you in the same light at all. You don’t register the tears at first, it’s not until they are dripping down your cheeks that you realize the sound you’re hearing is your own sobs. You lay there and allow the sadness to overwhelm, and envelop you until the peaceful darkness of sleep pulls you in.

You do your best over the next few weeks to avoid Eddie, especially if he’s with Chrissy, which seems to be all the time. The school year is coming to a close and there are more and more parties and celebrations, which makes it harder to avoid him while still enjoying time with your other friends. You decide to skip Jason Carver’s party though because you know Chrissy will absolutely drag Eddie there. Instead, you have a movie night with some of your other friends and find for the first time in a while you don’t feel so lonely.

After everyone goes home, you work on cleaning things up. You know it’s late but you’d rather get it done now than have to do it in the morning, who cares if it’s the middle of the night. You make your way up to your room and get ready for bed, and are startled by the knock on your window, opening it there he is, hair disheveled.

“Hey…” He smiles, “can I come in?”

You nod and step back giving him space to crawl on in, he tumbles through the window with as much as grace as usual and he sprawls on the floor looking up at you.

“What are you doing here, Eddie?”

“Why are you avoiding me, Y/N?” He sits up and leans against the wall under the windowsill.

You pause and look at him, before sitting next to him with your back against the wall too.

“Why aren’t you at Carver’s party with Chrissy?” you answer his question with another, two can play at that game.

He sighs and looks at you.

“Her friends are so fake. There’s not one real, genuine thing about any of them. It’s exhausting to be around them. I’d rather be here. Around you. So… Why are you avoiding me?”

You take a deep breath and look at your hands in your lap, “can’t you see, Eddie. She’s just like them. I’m the one who understands you. I’ve been here all along, so why can’t you see? You don’t belong with her Eddie. You belong with me.”

The room is silent for a long moment after your confession, before Eddie lets out a long breath and hooks his finger under your chin to lift your face so you’re looking at him.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes, I really mean it.”

He leans in and seals his lips over yours in a warm, loving kiss. Nothing is perfect but he knows, no one knows him better than you. You have always fit together like two puzzle pieces and if he’d realized just how much you’d loved him from the start he never would have asked Chrissy out. Together you two can make it through anything, and this, this kiss feels like perfection.

[princematcha]

shouto todoroki x reader || wc: 2k

cw: no pronouns for reader but in a dress, 1 mention of drugs (a joint), alcohol, everyone’s a little tipsy, sfw

pls no minors or ageless blogs

You’ve kissed Shouto, once. 

If anyone asked, you would say no. That they’re wrong, he’s been one of your closest friends for forever. You’ve never thought about him like that when your other friends want to hear something “hot,” oh my god, he’s your friend. 

You’ve never looked a little too long at the skin of his abdomen that peeks out when he takes off a sweater and his shirt rides up. Never woken up before him after falling asleep next to each other, and just admire him.

(You’ve gotten used to not looking at his face too much. He once adjusted his hair over his left eye when you were smoking together and you were staring at him. You asked him what was wrong and he asked if he had anything on his face as he took the joint from your hand. Shouto swallowed hard when you told him he was heartbreakingly pretty, his adam’s apple bobbing as he glanced around your face. 

Sober you apologized. 

Shouto still angles himself in his interviews, right side facing the cameras.)

Never known the feeling of his chest to yours as you breathe heavy breaths into each other’s mouths.

–it was New Year’s Eve.

//cut//

Your head hurt. You couldn’t remember if you hit it, or if it was because you smoked half a cigarette on the balcony with your friends after quitting cold turkey half a year earlier. Standing in your and Shouto’s kitchen in the way too nice apartment, you filled a glass at the sink. There’s a pitcher in the fridge, but you just downed two shots and there was already a glass rim down by the sink.

You turned around as Shouto rounded the corner to see you gulping water.

“Hello.”

You lifted a hand off of the counter to wave to him. He watched in silence as you finished the cup. You teetered back and forth on the heated marble floors, then slouched against the crowded counter.

Shouto was wearing a dark grey suit, blazer thrown over his arm. The off-white button-up underneath was rumpled by the collar and around his waist, partially untucked from his pants. Cufflinks you helped him choose and put on: gone; his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

He shrugged and leaned onto the archway next to the fridge. Messing with a picture of the two from a purikura on a boardwalk, “Why? Need me gone?”

You smiled and shook your head, “No, always want you here.”

He glanced at you.

Sliding your glass across the counter until it hits a cheese platter one of your friends brought, you looked down at his mismatched socks, “I thought you had a hero thing. Fancy party with,” you picked up an empty bottle of overly sweet wine with a celebrity printed across the front, “fancy food.”

Shouto huffed, a small dimple on his left cheek showing itself, “Who needs fancy food when I’ve got this at home.” He ran his eyes back and forth the counter as he stepped closer, getting stuck on you twice. “They didn’t have any konbini mochi there.”

You laughed when he shook the room-temperature sakura mochi at you, Shouto giving a small smile at yours.

“What about your friends? People you actually like?” You joked. When you asked him if you could host a small get-together for New Years and told him who would be coming, his face stayed purposely flat. Your friends were a lot when you were able to wrangle them into one place.

His head tilted, “I like you.”

“I know you do.” His smile dropped a touch, goosebumps rose up your bare legs, a chill suddenly in the air, “It would be weirder if you didn’t.”

Shouto stared into you like the time you came home with tears in your eyes after your partner broke up with you and suddenly you felt as if you said something wrong.

“You know because– we, uh, live together.” Words fell out of your mouth like water between your teeth. “And we’re-”

The glass door to the balcony slid open and one of your friends came ambling through, yelling Shouto’s last name the minute she saw him, inviting him out for a drink.

You smiled up at him, ready to be free from that look.

“You comin'?”

Making Shouto play drinking games was much easier than you anticipated, though no one was prepared for how horribly good he was at every single one of them. 

After the third game of beer pong with the other side of the table left with one solo cup, and your shared side missing just one cup, you hip-bumped him out of the way when it was his turn. 

“This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.”

You saw him look down at you in your peripheral vision as you aimed your throw, the world shifted and wobbled before you. 

“You asked me to come out here,” Shouto says. 

Your friend loosely ushered you back telepathically, her quirk tired and unfocused. “Too close,” she muttered, “Rules.”

“I thought we were going to play a game, not demolish my friends with no mercy.” You threw the ping-pong ball. 

It bounces once on the table and then rolls off to the side. Your friends cheered, hugging each other in great celebration.

“Are you not having fun?” Shouto’s mouth is much closer to your ear than you were prepared for, warm breath running over your ear and neck. You find yourself staring as he stands back up to his full height.

Your eyes dashed between his. “I’m, yeah, of course.”

He nodded and opened his mouth to say more, but a door slammed open, shouts of how the countdown is soon. 

You gazed out over the balcony, Tokyo feeling crackly and alive. People in the streets with their heads pointed up to see the fireworks that would shortly fill the night sky. 

“Do you remember when I spent a few months in the States?” Shouto asks after all of your friends shuffle inside. 

You stared at your hand as your eyes unfocused, half of it disappearing for the glowing building behind it. “I don’t think I could forget Shou, could’ve bought out half of Japan with the international phone bills.” You smiled at him to show you were joking. 

He blinked at you slowly like a sleepy cat. 

“You celebrated with your family that year.” You nodded as he spoke. 

Shouto celebrated in the States; alone. “I meant to call you back the next-”

“You were there when it mattered.”

You turned to him, your back to the city. He was staring at you, but you weren’t sure if he ever really looked away from you. There’s a serene look on his face that makes you want to ask him anything, everything. Questions you’ve already asked, questions that roll into your brain when you’re bored, questions you can only ask in dreams. 

Why he texted you every morning and every night when he was across the world. Why he shares an apartment with you that he could afford a dozen of. Why he was standing right in front of you looking like he could-

“There’s a, ah, tradition they have,” he rubbed his palm on his slacks, “Back there. In the states.”

He stares at the air over your head as you wait for him to continue, you like hearing about his travels, his thoughts. “At the end of the countdown. They kiss someone.”

Your thoughts stalled, “Oh.”

“For good luck.”

“Ah.” Your eyes betrayed you as your focus darted down to his mouth. Lips parted, a small cut running over his bottom lip from a fight he was in the other day. The cold always makes them a tint darker, you suspected he wore lipstick for a bit in high school. “Did you-?”

Shouto watched your gaze bounce down and up. “No.” 

“Cool.” You found yourself interested in a hair that fell on his shoulder. “Sorry.” What? Is going on. 

“Your dress.” He suddenly said, walking towards you with determination in his eye. 

You glanced down and saw a strap was falling, moving to push it up and thank him, but his hand met your shoulder before you could. “I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” You whispered.

Shouto’s palm didn’t leave your shoulder, warm fingers playing with the fabric of the thin strap. Skin soft on yours. 

He smelt like mint. And tea. You accidentally took too deep of a breath, head dizzy with the smell of him; you leaned against his chest. Shouto didn’t say anything, his heartbeat raced against your head, his firm chest stilled. 

“I thought about you every day.”

“Me too,” you spoke into his shirt.

“I, still, think about you every day.”

You looked up at him. “You see me every day?” 

“Not enough.” He gazed directly into your eyes, and the feeling dripped over you like warmed honey. You wrapped a finger around one of his belt loops, readying a question in your mind. 

“Ten!” 

The shout of your friends inside made you jump, Shouto smiled as he slid his hand from your shoulder over your neck and onto your cheek. 

“I’ve thought about this-”

“Nine!”

“About you,”

“Eight!”

“For so long.”

“Seven!”

“About what?” You asked. You knew, you think. You always knew, but you just- you just need to hear it. 

“Six!”

His thumb traced your bottom lip, eyes shamelessly glued to your mouth. 

“Five!”

“This.” He said. And brought his nose to yours, pressing them together. 

“Four!” 

His breath was cold as he breathed into your mouth, the air sticking to your tongue. 

“Three!”

“Can I,” Shouto’s top lip brushed yours as he asked, “kiss you?”

“Two!”

You nodded against his cheek, your hand against the buttons of his shirt, “Yes.”

“One!”

“Please.”

“Happy New Year!”

His mouth melded against yours like that was where he was supposed to be his whole life, so, so softly. Your eyes fluttered close as fireworks littered the sky, the loud popping nowhere to be in your mind. 

Shouto tasted like the strawberry soju you keep in a high cabinet as his tongue ran over yours, one of his hands gripping your waist for life. You met each other at every breath, slow and heated movement. Not wanting to be apart longer than necessary. 

His chest pressed against yours as he walked you back towards the balcony railing, your back pressed against the cold stone. It didn’t matter as Shouto ran a hot hand over your collarbone, a warm feeling sizzling in your gut. 

The sound of glass breaking woke you though. An ice bath for your warm gooey mind. 

You pushed him back suddenly, eyes wild and looking everywhere but him. What were you thinking? He’s drunk. He probably doesn’t know what he’s doing. 

You were drunk too, but why would you think about yourself?

You don’t know what face he was making. You don’t want to know what face Shouto was making. 

“Sorry.” You turned to help your friend with the champagne glass she dropped. 

//cut//

(When you woke up, it was with another brutal headache. Shouto brought you a hot drink in bed and asked if you remembered last night. You said yes. 

For a moment he looked mortified. 

You were embarrassed. 

You told him you remembered that he came back, but not much after that. You’re not sure if he could tell if you were lying. You’re not sure if it matters.)

You glance at your phone for any new messages. 

Just a text from your boss about a deadline on friday. 

“I just can’t believe it.”

“Hmm?” You look up at Ayame sitting across from you. Your friend wanted a recovery brunch from the drinking this weekend. 

“I mean you live with him, you’re telling me you didn’t know?”

You shrug, glancing at the gossip paper sitting on the table next to yours. “I try not to pry.”

“You never saw her come over?”

Reading over the headline, you feel tears building at the back of your eyes but you hold your breath. “I don’t know. Maybe just, like-”

10 January 20XX

       New Beau for Top 30 under 30 Pro-Hero Shouto?

“I don’t know.”

A cover photo of Shouto leaving a restaurant with a woman, smiling down at her; the ink buries itself into your mind. 

Ayame sighs, “Damn, I could’ve sworn I saw something between you at the party. You sure nothing happened?”

You rub your eye and stare at the bubbles fizzing up in your drink, “No. Nothing happened.”

[thewillowoaklady]

They sent my dad home last night. It's a waiting game now. His next appointment is next week, and he'll be in and out of the hospital and doctors offices every week for the rest of his life.

An ambulance had to drop him off. He was on a gurney, but wanted to walk into his own home, so they had to help him to his bed in the living room. He says he feels slightly better than he did. He told us about all the damage this cancer has caused. All the fractured bones and muscle and nerve damage. His bones are like swiss cheese. Every movement has to be so careful. All this time we thought he had diabetes, but it was cancer in his pancreas. Those lumps he'd get under his skin on his knuckles that he thought were bone spurs or arthritis, was cancer in the bones and joints. The rashes we thought were eczema, because he was diagnosed with it as a child, is the cancer weakening his immune system and caucing skin infections. The bruises where he said hurt the worst were caused by fractures in his bones. His bad digestion problems. His cloudy eyesight in one eye. The drastic changes in weight. He's had all these problems forever, since I was a child. They said he could have had cancer for years and it just got to a point that it could take over. In 2007, when he got really sick and lost over 200 pounds in a year, they said that would have been the first indication, the first moment, and he should have gone to a doctor then. But he changed his diet and lost a bunch of weight and he said it was better. It wasn't better.

On my dad's side of the family is all kinds of really bad cancers. Thyroid, cervical, prostate, lung, stomach, Lymphoma, pancreatic, colon, intestinal, breast cancer, leukemia. His sisters, his brother, his mother and father and grandparents and aunts and uncles and so on. Everyone had at least something over their lives. Most of it was really bad. The average life span for people from my dad's side of the family, according to my aunt, is between 60 and 80. He's 57.

If I had known sooner. If someone had told me. Maybe I could have convinced him to screened. Maybe this could have been avoided.

But that's a slippery slope and my aunt says I can't think like that. Even though it's really, really hard.

We had to get my sister's walker out of the attic because he's extremely unsteady and can't stand or sit for more than a minute or two. She was much smaller than him so it's just temporary until his insurance can get him a new one. He says it helps when he needs to get to and from the bathroom.

(Getting that out and watching him use it kept making me think back to my sister, and that was...not fun. The PTSD was really bad last night.)

He's coherent though. He's thinking and talking like dad again. He's terrified and devastated , which is completely expected, but he's acting like himself again.

He was cracking jokes and smart ass comments like always. Even when the comments and jokes get a little rough, it's such a relief. When my mom cut off the hospital band from his wrist he asked if we wanted to keep it, put it in a doom box and burn it. My sister used to say something like that after every hospital stay.

Something about that, how he said it, was just...hard to wrap my brain around. My youngest brother started joking with him about it for distraction while I just froze up and tried not to melt down in front of him. I had to make an excuse to go upstairs to the bathroom and just lost it. We don't want him to worry about us, so we've all agreed to do everything possible to help each other keep it together, especially in front of him. As far as he knows everything and everyone is okay, and we have to keep that up. The more stress he has, the worse his health will become.

Even if it isn't okay and we feel like we're suffocating with fear and anxiety and ptsd. Even if we struggle to pay the bills. Even if our own health is struggling. We have to make the rest of his life as stress free as possible.

I don't know how. But I'll figure it out, somehow.