#like yeah I the medication isn’t going to cure me but what if it doesn’t make me an ‘zombie’ and I start to function correctly?

[carideatheecreative]

Villain Origin Backstory: Having Parents.

[floral-hex]

January 2024: well, I can’t get my antidepressants anymore and this withdrawal makes me want to kill myself. From now on I’ll just raw dog these feelings so I never have to deal with these side effects again.

June 2024: I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. The world is ending. We’re all walking through the end times and whether I die soon or the world collapses in on itself, I can feel the simultaneous emptiness and crushing weight of the end. There is nothing.

[pixiesfz]

could you write about sam being sick and still playing through a game and the reader just takes care of her afterwards etc? i loved your jessie fic so much 😭😭🫶🏼

Stubborn girls s.k x r

plot: After a family night out Sam gets food poisoning, y/n tells her not to play but she doesn’t listen.

warning: reader and Sam have a child, sickness and vomiting , I’m writing this on my phone, I also don’t know how to cure food poisoning so just go with it

“I liked that place” You said as Sam opened the door for you and your sleeping daughter who you know held “I’m not sure my stomach isn’t feeling right”

“Well that is because you got the seafood which I said don’t get because-“

You were cut off as your wife ran to the toilet it wasn’t till later you heard Sam hurling up the last of her dinner.

you walked to the bathroom with your little toddler still in your arms who now stirred awake.

“Sam?” You asked at the door “I’m alright” she said “you sure? The colour in your face says different” you pointed at her face as Sam once again had her face in the toilet.

“Mama sick” your toddler said from your shoulder and you nodded “yeah cause she ate the seafood” you mumbled and your wife groaned.

“Time to go to bed bubba” You told your daughter who merely nodded “Sam are you okay?” You asked her again and she nodded “It’s a one time thing I reckon” her Australian accent shining through, you nodded and walked your daughter to her room.

“Mama got game tomorrow” your daughter said and you nodded “correct but mama is sick and shouldn’t play” you smiled at your daughter even though your words were serious “but mama said she’s fine”

“Mama lies a lot”.

You made sure your daughter was in bed and asleep before you made your way to the kitchen and grabbed medicine and a washcloth which you put u der the cold water from the sink.

“Sammy” you sung out, expecting her to be in the bed but she was still in the bathroom. You sighed as you now knew that she shouldn’t play tomorrow.

Sam seemed to read your mind as she looked up to you “I’m fine I promise” she said but you shook your head “Your skin is pale, you have bags under your eyes and your head has been stuck in the toilet for about” you checked your watch “twenty minutes now”

“Twenty minutes?” Sam asked and you nodded “little darling was a bit woke when she heard you chuck up” you said before you sat down next to Sam and took off your shoes “I’m fine-“ “No you’re not” you cut off Sam.

You rose your brows at her which she looked away from “you have food poisoning” you told her before bringing the medication and the washcloth out.

Sam excepted it as you put it on her forehead “You know you can’t play tomorrow” you told her and she groaned “we are versing Arsenal tomorrow I am playing” she said “what and vomit all over the pitch, no way am I watching that” you said before filling up a glass of water.

“Here take these” you said before pushing the tablets out to her, she did and you stroked her hair “just know that your team would rather you play healthy rather than play sick” you said and she leaned into your touch “I love you” she said with a smile.

“Are you trying to trick me into telling you that you can play”

“No”

You looked at her again.

“Maybe” she admitted and you gave her a sweet kiss on her temple “you missed” she whispered, a joke between the two of you on how you had your first kiss.

“I am not kissing you on the lips until you drink that water and have those tablets” you said before sitting up “I’ll grab you pyjamas and I’ll put a bucket next to our bed, if you need to wake me then do” you told Sam with a stern voice as she usually would try to hide any sickness or injury from you.

You grabbed her a pair of trackie shorts and a used oversized top and a bucket before placing the bucket to Sam’s side of the bed and passing the clothing to her.

“I love you” Sam said “and I truly mean it this time” she smiled “I love you too, in sickness and in health” you joked before giving her a soft kiss on the lips.

You crashed into your bed fairly quickly after and fell asleep, when you woke up you went to cuddle into Sam only to find an empty space.

Opening your eyes, you groaned to see your wife not present in the bed, then you checked the clock to see the time.

10 am.

You shot up, you were supposed to be up at 8, your alarm should’ve woken you up it always does.

Then you saw the paper on top of Sam’s pillow.

‘I feel better now and went to the game, sorry’

“That evil little Australian mother fucker” you swore to yourself before you heard a gasp behind you.

“Mummy swore!” Your daughter said from behind you “no she didn’t” you said very quickly to the giggly girl

“You said fuck!” she yelled before running away.

You sighed to yourself as you ran your fi hers through your hair. Grabbing your phone you saw to see that Sam turned off your alarm.

You then called her in anger which she didn’t pick up. Rolling your eyes you got up and put your jeans and your Chelsea jersey on “Well if she says she’s fine then let’s go watch”.

You got ready quickly and then got your daughter ready who had thankfully have seemed to forget about her new word she had learned.

You out on her Chelsea beanie and top and you both drove to the game. It would be around the second half once you got there.

“Hey y/n where you been, did you sleep in?” One of Your girlfriends team mates sister teased as you sat in the family and friends section. “You can say something like that.

“Mama Sick!” Your daughter smiled to her and she nodded her head “I could tell something was off because right now we’re getting smashed” she said and you furrowed your brows “what?” She pointed at the score.

3-1

You let your daughter look over the gate as you shook your head and looked for Sam “can you see Mama?” You asked your daughter and she laughed “Mama off” she said and you looked to the corner to see Sam subbed off.

You hated to say it because you loved her so much but she looked terrible.

Her tan skinned turned green and her bags under eyes were so dark she must not have slept last night.

When the siren went You saw Millie who went to go to your daughter “get Sam” you told her as she picked your daughter up “Is Mama in trouble?” Millie sang out to your daughter who laughed at the older girl

“how bout, lie to your wife, turn her alarm off so she doesn’t know that your playing sick type of mad?” You said

“Mummy is very mad” your daughter told Millie who opened her eyes wide “I’ll go get her” she said and went off, you didn’t want to get mad at her in public so you shook your head “tell her to meet me at home”

When you next saw Sam she walked into the kitchen where you sat with your daughter, watching her favourite show and she walked up to you with her head down “What you upset that I didn’t wake up later?” You asked and she shook her head.

When she looked up your heart almost broke, her eyes were shiny and her face was red, she had been crying.

“I’m sorry” she said and sniffed and you quickly got yo and held her “it’s okay” you said before you shook your head “actually it’s not okay but we can get to that later” you told her as you rubbed her back up and down.

When she sat down next to you she put her head on your shoulder “I shouldn’t of played, I just put them one man down, I couldn’t do anything special” she said and you grabbed her hand “You don’t need to do something special every time you play Sam”

“I know since the World Cup eyes have been on you but I want you to know that you are allowed to make mistakes and take time for yourself without being a bad player or being selfish”

She looked up to you with glossy eyes “I love you so much, you always know what to say” you smiled “I know and that’s why you married me” you smirked, knowing this time you were right.

“Mummy said fuck!”

Both of your heads whipped to your daughter who was smiling with her doll.

“Mummy said what?” Sam asked your daughter with a smirk.

You were somehow both in the doghouse that night.

[firefirefruit]

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Twenty

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Twenty: Minks and Vivre Cards

A prickle enters into your skin, fine pointed metal paving its way with a certain grace the cut of a sword could never imitate. You look down to your doctor, observing the wide-eyed focus on his face as his hooves graze over your skin.

It’s too early for him to have found any life-saving cures, you’re aware; since the Shaman’s planned attack, it’s only been two days since you set sail from their island - so, as you lay idly in the ship’s medic cabin, your curiosity gives way over to Robin who sits at Chopper’s desk, her spine curling consumingly over the stolen tome.

If the serum isn’t entirely a cure, and Chopper’s confident enough to enter it into your system, then you can deduce that this isn’t just some experiment. You stare at the milky liquid as it slowly spills out from the syringe and into you.

“You’ve found a way to slow it down,” you softly remark, urging Chopper’s eyes to flicker onto yours. With a pursed mouth, he nods in confirmation before starting towards his desk.

“From what Robin’s deciphered so far, you transformation doesn’t seem to be…humane. You’ve heard of Minks before, right?”

You nod. “Sure. We have strong ties to…”

You stop yourself, recognising that, still, no one aboard this ship is aware of you or your Gramps’ real identity. How do you even bring up that line of conversation at this point of the journey? Hey, I’m actually from Wano, and I’m not just anybody from Wano; I’m the granddaughter of the former Shonen! The old man you’ve become pretty close to? Yeah, that’s him! Not only that, but he’s also the father to Oden! But then... there's a chance that, if you were to say those exact words to them, they might just stare back at you blankly. You're not sure whether they even know about a place called Wano, or about Oden – it’s not like they’ve debriefed you on every single journey they’ve been on. Perhaps you should go through Robin’s logbooks which she’s so kindly offered in passing, just to make sure…

You pause, averting your gaze from Chopper’s back, not knowing how to save yourself from your slip up. He turns around, a questioning look settling on his face.

“Sorry, I don’t think I heard that right,” he sheepishly says.

Robin behind him casually flips over to another silver-dusted page, her fingers tracing ever so slightly over the scripture.

“I think she said that Hitetsu-sama has taught her about Minks,” Robin smoothly replies, her eyes glued to the page.

The revelation hits you like a sudden gust of wind, sweeping away any semblance of composure you’d managed to maintain.

Your neck snaps to her direction, eyes widening. She knows.

She knows that’s not what you actually said. Why…why did she just do that? Keep your your identity hidden? How much does she know about you, your history, your lineage? And why hasn’t she mentioned it to anyone before? Panic bubbles up within you, threatening to spill over, but you clamp down on it with all your strength.

If you’re recalling correctly, Robin has always referred to Suki as ‘san.’ This is the first time she’s ever used ‘sama’ when talking about him; surely, that means she knows who he is. Who you are. His importance.

You meet Robin's gaze, searching for any hint of recognition in her steady eyes. But all you find is a calm, composed facade, her expression giving nothing away.

"Yes, that's right," you manage to choke out, your voice betraying none of the shock consuming you. "Hitetsu-sama... has taught me a lot about Minks."

It’s not a lie; not really. The day you both immigrated from Wano in Suki’s exceptionally hand-crafted raft was when you had your first lesson about two very important topics – Minks, and Vivre cards.

“The Minks are our lifelong allies, Raya…but we prefer to call them family. This,” he says, displaying a wriggling piece of paper wedged in between his two fingers, “is how we get to them.”

You remember it so dearly. Climbing up on Zunesha’s offered bowing leg, being welcomed by a bunch of wide furry arms, their devoted insistence on treating you both as royalty although you both had willingly revoked that title in purpose of seeing the rest of the world.

You remember their electric glow when the whole moon bid its hello once a month, soft fur running through your hands as they’d carry an eight-year-old you on their backs, uncontrollably laughing when they’d nuzzle your sensitive neck and lick your face clean.

You remember befriending two brother bears, one the same age as you, the other a little older. Following them around in the jungle as they’d run excitedly to show you their favourite fishing spots. Their personalities - so gentle, so wide-eyed, so warm. You wonder what they’re doing now.

And although your stay on Zunesha was only for a few months – the main reason for being there in the first place was to learn more about the outside world – those very few months were some of the best highlights of your childhood.

You wonder about them, hoping that all is well - not only the Minks but also for Zunesha.

You miss petting his thick skin, where it would lay bare in between places that were unoccupied by Minks. He’d talk to you, ask you about your thoughts, and even mention your relation to Oden.

Normally, you hated being seen as merely a blood relative to the almighty Oden - to be spoken to only because of who he was and not who you are. But with Zunesha, it was different – his question was was so passively said that sometimes you forget that he even asked it.

Only once did the ancient mammal question your bloodline, and when you curtly affirmed his suspicions, he accepted the response and moved on without asking for more.

You snap out of your daze; a faint smile plays on your lips as you look over at Chopper who’s busy sterilizing his equipment.

“Minks...what about them?”

“When Minks transform under the lunar cycle, it's tough for them to go back to normal,” Chopper explains. You nod your head already knowing this, fingers gripping over the medical bed rail. “They lose all sense of control.”

"Yeah," Chopper confirms. "When we first met them, I made a serum to help slow down their transformation. It gave them more time to think straight, and most of them could either stop changing completely or stay in control even while transformed."

“So, if we assume that whatever’s in my blood isn’t humane, it could be…” Your eyes widen, now putting all the pieces together. “Just…just what am I?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Robin murmurs thoughtfully, fingers over her lips.

Chopper nods, a reassuring smile on his face. “If the serum works on you, then what we’re suspecting is correct.”

You swallow. “And if it doesn’t?”

“Entirely harmless to humans. Your cells will attack it pretty quickly without you even realising it happening.”

Suddenly, the ship shudders and rattles under an unexpected disturbance. An earth-quaking groan thrums from beneath your feet, toppling over the chairs and books in the room. Desperately, your sweating fingers grasp onto the metal rail of the medical bed, your heart pounding in your chest; Chopper's scream of confusion echoes in the cramped cabin, mingling with the crash of glass vials and the milky liquid that spills across the floor.

Amidst the chaos, Robin's calm presence offers a semblance of stability, her arm sprouting beside you to steady you against the violent lurch of the ship. But even as you struggle to regain your footing, a wild shout from outside the cabin pierces the air, followed by Luffy's unmistakable voice, filled with uncontainable excitement.

"What's happening?" you breathe, your eyes darting between Chopper, Robin, and the door, where the sounds of commotion spill in from the deck.

Robin's lips curl into a knowing smile as she peers through the small porthole, amusement dancing in her eyes. "It seems we have visitors," she announces, her voice tinged with anticipation.

You hear Luffy wildly cheer again, and then shout out for the rest of you guys to join. Chopper jumps up to Robin, hopping desperately to grab a view of the action.

“What is it, Robin?” Chopper desperately begs. “Let me see!”

With a firm push, she swings open the door, revealing a scene of surprise and chaos unfolding on the deck below. Chopper, his fur standing on end with excitement, darts past you, his eager cries mingling with Usopp's bright grin as they rush to join the fray.

As you step out onto the deck, your gaze falls upon the unexpected visitors, and your breath catches in your throat. There, standing amidst the chaos, is a polar bear clad in an orange jumpsuit

You swear you just felt your heart stop.

A polar bear. White fur, the same fur you’d run your hands through in awe. Flashes of him showing his favourite fishing spots on Zunesha. So gentle, so wide-eyed, so warm. What was his name? What was his brother’s?  

“Bepo!” Chopper screams out, jumping on the massive bear.

Bepo. That was his name. Your mouth is wide open, the blood in your body running cold. And Zepo...That was his brother.

How…

Why… Why is he here? Where…?

But before you start spiralling into panic, your eyes catch onto the other figure that stands alongside dear Bepo, a sleep-deprived looking man who has his lips pursed firmly in irritation. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, his gaze fixed on Luffy with an intensity that sends a chill down your spine.

"Tora-o," Robin greets him over the banister with a raised eyebrow, her tone tinged with amusement. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

The man's gaze turns to Robin, and for a moment, there's a flicker of something in his eyes— a greeting, perhaps, or recognition. But then his expression hardens once more, and he meets her gaze with a steely resolve.

"Your ship broke my submarine," he says, dead-panned, his voice cutting through laughter.

[russett-pots]

Feel the Thrill

Nakamura Kazuha

Tags: F1, Virgin sex, cum on breasts

Words: 4.2k

TW: Smoking

Sorry I was planning to upload this over the weekend but only got to finish this today.

Enjoy!

Formula one cars zoom pass and one of them is yours. You’re in a hard battle with your teammate. Wheels have been barging and banging throughout the race. There are no team orders down in Aston Martin. It may be risky for you to keep fighting, but there is no good reason to stop fighting as you are locked in a tight battle for points.

This season has not been the easiest for you and this race. You have been gunning for that rookie of the year and your teammate isn’t making it easy for you.

“Tell Lance to fucking give me space. I’m faster than him.” You struggle to communicate with your engineer.

“Sorry, Lee Heon. He’s free to race you.”

“At this rate, we are going to crash.”

You continue to struggle your way on the track. Your teammate hasn’t been making things easy. But right before the long straight, you can get behind him within one second so you can activate DRS. Stroll’s lights are flashing, giving you some encouragement.

Oh here we go, he is out of juice.

You got to the late apex. He switches it around and he gets ahead but it doesn’t matter. You compromised his line and now you are in a better position for the long straight ahead. Your foot is flat to the floor, the ers button is set to overtake, then your rear wing gets opened.

Stroll is still ahead but not for long. The final advantage that you set up for yourself is the slipstream. Your boost allows you to push as close as you can. Then you swerve to the left. Stroll is defenseless as you pass by him. You can see him in your mirrors, he tries to tuck on your rear. He doesn’t have the DRS and juice that you had. But you notice he is close too close.

As you hit the breaking point and you slam on the brakes, you feel a large force hitting the rear of your car. Your head moves forward but your HANS device prevents you from getting whiplash. Your car spins around with your tires screeching on the black tarmac. 

You are shocked to see Stroll’s bold move fail and he crashes on you. But his car is okay and just speeds on with his broken wing into the pits.

“Are you okay, Lee Heon? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

You undo your seatbelt, remove the steering wheel from the steering column and place it on your car. A marshal runs to you to assist you. You get out of the car and look at the damage.

You look around. It can’t be seen but you know that there are hundreds of cameras on you. Above you, you can hear the helicopter’s camera pointed at you. You just shake your head in disgust, remove your gloves from your hands, and walk away.

You get to the side of the track and wait for your pick-up.

As you wait there, you get to see the safety car lead the other cars around the track Stroll is still in the top ten.

Finally after what feels like forever. The medical car arrives. You get up as Dr. Ian Roberts rushes to you to take your vitals. It isn’t anything serious so you’re good.

He leads you to the medical car and back to the pit lane. Once you get there, you walk to your garage but try to avoid the media but covering your eyes with your visor and pushing them away from you. When you arrive at the garage, you slam your helmet on the table and angrily remove your racing suit. You attempt to punch the wall, but your trainer stops you from doing it.

“Calm down, bro. It’s just a race.” Your trainer tries to console you.

You look at him and glare. “Just a race?! Scoring points in my home Grand Prix is important to me!”

You put your hand on your head to cure the headache.

“Let me change.” You go to the hospitality suite to change into your team uniform. 

You head back to the garage to see what’s happening to the race. All of the mechanics are seated on the chairs watching the race. You look around but then you see the team principal still on the pit wall. So, you head up to him.

“Ya! What was Lance doing? Is he crazy?!”

He looks at you. “Let’s talk about this at the debrief.”

You scoff at him and walk away. Lance’s father already owns the team. Whatever you say about him isn’t going to affect his seat.

At the end of the race, even with a five-second penalty, Lance was still able to finish p 8. You get furious at him and the result. It should have been you up there and not him. You might have even gotten a higher position.

You enter the conference room. Everyone is already there waiting for you. You get to your usual spot at the de-brief is about to start.

“So, points I guess. Just a few more then we will be challenging Alpine?” The head strategist starts the conversation.

You raise your hand. “Are we going to talk about how Lance rear-ended me? I think we need to talk about that.”

The team principal sighs. “Lance, don’t you have to say something?”

He stands up. “I’m sorry. Lee Heon.”

You reluctantly accept his apology.

Lance still has protection from his father who is very hands-on with his investment for his son. But you are just there to take all of it in. Drive faster than you’ll keep your seat with them.

The de-brief goes on as usual but in the end.

“Okay, everyone. Tonight there is going to be an event happening in Seoul. It’s a sponsored event so I expect everyone to go. Especially you, Lee Heon.”

You roll your eyes. Going to events isn’t something you thought Formula 1 drives will be doing. You signed up to live a dangerous life. The thrill of driving over 300 kph is what was on the job description. Media is something you never liked going but you have to accept the other side of the profession. 

~~

You drive to the hotel where the event is hosted in your large Yamaha Motobike. It zooms in on the valet area. Your arms stretch as you enter the hotel. You turn off the engine and remove your helmet. You quickly toss the keys to the valet personnel and walk into the hotel.

The media quickly notices you and turn their camera pointed at you and your dashing suit. You just smile and wave at them. A small plastic smile that at least will get you thru the night. The security quickly moves in and clears you a path.

Your trainer is already waiting for you at the door.

“Sorry, I���m late.”

“Shut up. Just come with me.”

You give a good chuckle.

“What’s going to be in this event?” You ask him.

“To be honest. I don’t know. All I know is that the Team Principal will give a speech. I know how much you don’t like this. All you have to do is just sit and smile for the camera and the audience. Sign some autographs if necessary.”

He walks you to the table and he said just a couple of speeches happening. But you just smile and clap after each segment.

The host announces. “Good evening finally before we can serve dinner. May we welcome the newest K-pop sensation, Le Sserafim!”

You don’t know much about this K-pop group. As you have been listening to western artists and don’t know much about K-pop in general. So, another smile and clap.

~~

Once dinner ends, you tell your trainer that you need to go out for some air. You head out to the balcony and get out your pack of cigarettes and your lighter. There aren’t a lot of people in the area. So, you just pick one from the pack and put it in your mouth. But before you can light it up. A pair of fingers grabs it and tosses it aside.

“Ya! Do you not know smoking is bad for you?” A lady scold you.

“Mind your own business.” You take another but before you can take one out. She grabs it and tosses it in the trash.

“Ya! Why did you do that?” You run to the trash, but you already see that it is ruined inside the can.

“There is a pregnant woman over there. You cannot smoke here.”

You roll your eyes away from her. “So, who are you?”

“Well if you don’t know I’m Kazuha.”

“Kazuwho?”

“Kazuha! Of Le Sserafim. Didn’t you see us perform?”

“Ah! Le Sserafim. Sure.”

“And you who might be?”

“Me? F1’s newest sensation, Lee Heon. Probably something you should know.”

“Jeeez, self-centered much?”

“Well, it is true, isn’t it? Why else are we hosting this event.”

“Sheesh. You don’t have to think of yourself like that.”

“Why? Can’t I?”

“Well, if the only thing you are thinking is yourself then maybe you shouldn’t be one.”

“What!?”

Kuzaha looks you straight in the eyes. “Well, if you’re going to continue to be like then. You aren’t going to make many friends.”

You throw your arms at her. “Fuck off.” Instead of diving into more of this conversation, you head back into the event before you get can get back.

Kazuha shouts out. “I’m right. Ain’t I?”

You get back to your table and sit beside your trainer again.

“How was your ‘air’?”

“Shut the fuck up. There is the Kazuwho who just threw my cigarettes.”

“Kazuha. You should know them. They’re famous. Maybe more famous than you.”

“Whatever.” You scoff back at your trainer and lean in your chair to just soak in the rest of the event.

Once it ends, you immediately head out of the venue to go back to your hotel room to get away from the media. When you get to the main driveway. You see this girl frantically on her phone.

You get a closer look and it’s Kazuha. First, you call the valet to get your motorbike then turn up on her.

“So, you got left behind?”

“Go away.” She gets on her phone once more. But there is no signal in the area so she cannot call anyone. “Ugh. Pick up!”

“Need a ride?”

“From you? Never!”

“Well good luck to you if you are just going to stay here and get stranded.”

The valet arrives with your bike. You look at Kazuha once more. “Last chance.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Just drop me off in the city where I can call my manager.”

You put on your helmet. “Hold on.” You open the compartment behind you and toss her the spare helmet.

“Tell me if it fits.”

You go to the back compartment and take out the spare helmet that you stored there and toss it to Kazuha. “Try it.”

She puts it on. “Ugh Fine.”

“Then, get on.”

You put on your helmet as Kazuha gets on your bike. Then you speed off into the distance.

Since it is late at night you can go as fast as you can without getting caught. You dive thru traffic, weaving in and out.

Kazuha holds on to your tight. Her arms wrap around your waist. “You idiot slow down!”

You chuckle and pull the throttle to get the bike going even faster.

Kazuha screams. “You’re crazy stop right now!”

You get on the brake and screech the tires on the road to get to a complete stop. You remove your visor to see the lights of downtown.

“Woah. I could never think a city can be this pretty.”

Kazuha gets off the bike and removes the helmet. A fit of fuming anger grows in her then her hand slaps your shoulder. “You shouldn’t be going that fast. The speed limit doesn’t say 100 kph.”

You remove the helmet and then turn to Kazuha. “Don’t you notice the lights?”

She gets a break from hitting you and looks above. The lights are shining in her eyes. “Well, it’s nice but still not as nice as you are breaking the speed limit.” She returns to hitting on you.

“Ow. Ow. Ow. Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You owe me something.”

You turn to the right and notice that there is a McDonald’s beside you. “You want ice cream?”

Kazuha turns her head to see the golden arches and ponders. “You’re paying for me, right?”

You sigh. “Yes…”

Kazuha walks up the steps and you park your bike. One inside, the air-conditioned interior is bright, clean, and plush. Something uncommon in a McDonald's but since it’s late at night maybe that’s why it is so spotless with the diligence of the hardworking staff of the branch.

“Hello, welcome to McDonald’s. What would you like for tonight?”

“Just two hot fudge sundaes. Anything else?”

“Two apple pies.” You carefully order.

“Okay, we’ll call you when it’s ready.” She hands you your number before you and Kazuha find an empty seat in a very empty fast-food restaurant.

“So, tell me how is it being an F1 driver?” Kazuha asks curiously.

“Well, driving is the fun part. Going down circuits like Monaco, Monza, and Spa. All amazing circuits.”

“Really, have you won anything?”

“Hey, it’s my rookie year. It isn’t like I’m in a good car.”

“Maybe you aren’t just fast.” Kazuha chuckles.

“Ya! I’m fast. I just need to prove myself. When I get to a Mercedes or a Ferrari. I’ll show you. I’ll bring you right in the paddock and you’ll see me win.”

“Are you already inviting me to watch?”

“What! Oh…well yeah. I mean why not?”

“You really don’t have any friends to invite, do you?”

“Shut up!”

Suddenly the speakers sound. “Order for Lee Heon.”

You quickly end the conversation and run to the counter.

“Here’s your food.” The lady gives you.

Once you return, you see Kazuha signing an autograph for someone.

You get slightly annoyed as you haven’t really gotten asked to sign something by someone outside events.

“So, you’re really famous?” You slowly lay down the tray.

“I don’t want to toot my horn but yeah.”

“Damn, I was never asked by someone for an autograph like this.”

“Really?”

“I mean yeah sure during Grand Prix or events but when I walk around, I don’t get spotted.”

“It isn’t as nice as you think. Sometimes you cannot go anywhere. But now? Since it’s late no one is around.”

“Hmmm anyway dig in. I got you ice cream and apple pie.”

Like as she knows how, Kazuha places her apple pie on the ice cream and starts indulging in it. You smile as you eat with her. You never expected it to be nice to eat late-night snacks with someone you haven’t met for a while.

Once your desserts are finished, you look at her. “Do you want to call your manager…”

Kazuha raises her eyebrows.

“…. or wanna ride around my bike again?”

“I already asked him. He said he can pick me up in the morning.”

Your eyes light up and drag Kazuha with you. She straps on her helmet and helps you with yours. Now you just casually drive around Seoul, appreciating the different city lights. Occasionally, Kazuha taps on your shoulder to show you some landmarks around the area. The city at night is calming. You never knew how much the night as ever been like this.

You end up at a hill outside the city skirts. There is a skyline in the distance.

“So, Kazuha, is this a date?”

She looks at you with her hair slightly blown in the wind. “I guess. What? Are you my boyfriend now?”

“Depends, do you want to?”

She turns to you, stepping one foot at a time, then once close to you, where she can feel her breath. Her eyes blink and her hand lands on your chest. “Your heart is beating fast. Should I be concerned?”

“No” You use your hand to hold her head still as you kiss her on the lips. 

She doesn’t push you back but hugs you tighter, pulling you even closer.

Once the kiss ends, your foreheads rest on each other.

“I guess we’re dating.” Kazuha asks.

“Now are we going to take this further?”

“Sure.” Kazuha’s eyes light up but get concerned.

“Kazuha, what’s the matter?”

“I want to do it well even with you. But…it’s going to be my first time.”

“Kazuha, I’ll only do it if you want to do it. Tell me do you want to have sex with me?”

“Hmm.” Kazuha nods. “Just tell me what to do.”

You get back to your bike and speed to your hotel. Once more a valet would take your bike while you and Kazuha skip your way to your room. When alone on the elevator ride, you pull Kazuha closer to you and kiss her on the lips again like when you did a while ago.

Kazuha playfully pushes you away. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Well, no girl I was with has ever been this beautiful.”

Kazuha blushes.

“Well, aren’t you excited?”

Once the elevator arrives at your floor, you escort her to your room. Kazuha runs to the windows overlooking the city. You walk slowly removing your coat and your ties.

“Yeah, that’s why I took this room. I like the view. It’s always peaceful to watch the city skyline.”

“So now, Oppa.” Kazuha inches closer and closer to you. “Are we going to do what we wanted to do?” she tries to show off her sexy side.

“You’re so cute. Let me show you how it’s done.”

You kiss and push her onto the bed. Her hands roll up your shirt and her skin is feeling your upper body. Your own hands and undoes the button of your pants. Kazuha starts to remove each button from your shirt, leaving your shirt open for her to enjoy.

Kazuha turns you around as she is on top of you. She sits on you and removes her shirt. There you can see her small petite frame a bra casing her small breast but with a fully developed midriff.

“Sheesh.”

“Only you can see this.”

Kazuha puts her hands on her back and with one swift move, her bra falls off. 

“I thought you are a beginner?”

“I may never have sex but at least I have seen some videos about it. Now, let me?”

Kazuha goes down between your legs and removes the rest of your pants. Now what’s left is your boxer briefs before the prize of what’s underneath. She slowly peels off the barrier and out sticks out is your rock-hard cock, not huge like what porn would show but it is sizeable.

With her hand slowly stroking it, Kazuha is mesmerized. She cannot actually believe she is seeing a cock in real life. Her eyes are wide open and is focusing on it and it only. She gives a quick lick to see what it tastes like.

“Kazuha….”

“Call me Zuha.”

“Zuha… if you want, put it in your mouth.”

She snaps out of the trance and slowly engulfs it with her mouth. Her wet cave welcomes the long cock. Her tongue plays with it. It circles around it. The sensation of her rough taste buds on your cock tickles it.

“Are you sure it’s your first time?”

“Maybe I’m just that talented.”

You lean back your head. Your lower regions are already weakening to the immense pleasure that Kazuha is forcing upon you. “Kazuha….Zuha…..”

Kazuha pops her head off your cock. “Hmm?”

“You’re so good.”

She gets off you and moves closer to your face. “That’s good.”

“It’s like I don’t need to teach you anything. But anyway, let me show you something.”

You get off the bed and pull Kazuha to ward you. “Quick, on the bed.” She gets on the bed on all fours. You remove the button on her pants with her underwear to her ankles. Kazuha kicks away her clothes, leaving her fully naked. 

You touch her wet pussy with your fingers. A gentle rub on her increasingly wetter pussy. You slowly insert your middle finger inside. There inside is the pulsating pink flesh inside Kazuha. You push in and pull out every second, going in and out repeatedly. Then your ring finger joins. Kazuha almost screams but is only stiffed by her mouth. Most intense motions are now inside her. You move faster and harder.

Kazuha bites her lips as she cannot handle the immense pleasure. You pull out of her pussy and out comes your drenched fingers. She looks back at you. To impress her you suck your two fingers, and all the love juice soaked on your fingers.

“Now, Zuha. Let me bring you the main course.”

You give a quick slap on Kazuha’s dripping folds. Then with the tip of your cock, tease her before you fully impale her with your cock. First, you slowly push inside. It goes a quarter way in, then half, and finally goes balls deep. Then you slowly pull out.

While all this Kazuha was anxiously waiting for you to enter her. First, her face shows pain when your first enter but immense satisfaction afterward. Your hands get a gentle grip on Kazuha’s waist. Her soft skin matches her white complexion.

You speed up your thrust. Each push getting harder. Kazuha tries to take it all in. Her hand grabs the sheets, she bites her lips, and her feet curl. Kazuha tries to stifle her moans but, in the end, fails so she lets out a loud scream of pleasure. Never had you thought that you could hear such an innocent-looking girl get so wild.

Your skin slaps on hers. Her waist perfectly fits the shape of your pelvis, a snug fit. You let out gentle moans. You take the innocence out Kazuha. The shyness and the elegance now are gone.

You slow down to a complete stop. Kazuha tries to slow down her heavy breaths. But instead, you toss her around, now you are face to face with Kazuha.

“Zuha, let’s do this slowly. Sorry I was a little rough.”

“Nah it’s okay. Do what you want.”

“I’ll show you more another time. I just want to ask you one question.”

“Hmmm?”

“Where do you want me to cum?”

“Cum? You mean your semen?”

You chuckle for a second. “Yeah, my semen.”

“Ummm. Just don’t make me pregnant.”

You smile at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

Now you go back to your cock. You realign your tip on Kazuha’s entrance. Like before you go in gently, first with the tip, teasing her. You look back at Kazuha’s anticipated expression. She braces for another round of your long shaft. It dives back in and resumes the thrust that was like a while ago.

You go in and out faster and faster. Like before Kazuha’s expression is a mix of pain, pleasure, excitement, and fear. Not knowing what you’ll do next but it is to enjoy every second of it.

Your hands rest on either side of her chest. Her small breast jiggle in the motions. Kazuha yells out. Her screams of joy fill the room. But to silence her, you kiss her on the lips. A passionate kiss with the hard and rough act of taking her whole.

Faster and faster, it goes, you go down from her lips to her neck. You kiss it and suck on it but try your best to not leave a hickey. Your hand gets a handful of her breast. Your finger twirl, pinch and play with her nipple. 

With her mouth free, Kazuha gaps for breaths. Her screams are getting louder from all the pleasure she is feeling. All of these feelings Kazuha is experiencing are encouraging you to do more. The more Kazuha feels good. It feels like it is transferring it to you.

But then you can feel it. Your legs get weak. Your shaft wants to throb. You quickly pull out and point your cock to Kazuha’s breast. All of your sticky, white liquid is all over her breast. Round after round spews out of your cock. 

After running dry you drop to the bed and lay beside her.

“Oh my gosh, that was so good,” Kazuha exclaims. She takes a sample of your cum and sniffs it. “What should I do with this?”

“Just clean yourself. Unless you want to lick it all?”

She glares at you and then smiles. She jumps off the bed and walks to the bathroom to clean herself. You scoot over to your phone and check the time.

“Zuha, right you said your manager is going to fetch you in the morning?”

“Hmm.”

“Wanna spend the night?”

She comes out of the bed, still naked, and runs to lay beside you.”

“Sure.” She kisses you on the lips. “Just on one condition.”

“What?”

“As much as I like you, you know I’m an idol.”

“Yeah?”

“We have to keep this a secret.”

“Okay, Zuha. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

[cocogrrrl]

daisies

you find yourself growing close and eventually developing feelings for kenny—a guy you met at a party. you develop hanahaki because of it as well. now, what are you gonna do?

kenny x implied fem!reader but with they/them pronouns (hanahaki au) cw: n/a, just angsty wc: 5064

an: this is part of an sp au where different versions of the reader has hanahaki and is in love with the main three! read the other two parts here!

Hanahaki is a disease something that affects many daily. From a small seed in your lungs, you’ll experience petals and flowers coming out from your mouth. It could take days, weeks, months, or even years to develop. Many hypothesize that it happens because of a love not returned, a love waiting on a bench.

Fortunately, it isn’t something that everyone will experience in their lifetime, although it is common. For those who catch the illness, you only have a few choices to pick from.

First, the sickness doesn’t last because the affection is returned. Many of those who survive this still need to receive medical attention for the healing process, depending on how severe the sickness had become. Many of these people who experience this are bound to live a happy life, though.

Second, you undergo a safe medical procedure that, while cures you, makes you devoid of any sense of love anymore. These operations usually do not pose many health risks, and the survival rate is high.

Lastly, you could just bear the pain, although you will suffocate to death.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You’re in your junior year right now. It’s been a few months since you moved to South Park. You moved over the summer, and now you were a month or two into classes.

The people here were often hit or miss. Rarely some of them hit, like your close friend Wendy, but there were a lot of other people that missed, like a decent population of the town.

You would say that you were adjusting to the place just fine. It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t perfect as well. You could handle this place. It felt new and exciting, frankly.

Now, you were preparing for a house party at Tolkien’s. You didn’t know him that well, but you shared some classes with him, and he seemed like a pretty normal guy. Funnily enough, he might be the most normal guy here, even if he was better off financially than most people here.

Wendy was going to pick you up anytime right now, so you sat nearby your door waiting for her. Honestly, you thought she was going to be picked up by her girlfriend, Bebe, but she told you that Bebe had to pick up her friends Red, Lola, and Jenny.

You heard your phone ring as your doorbell did too. It must be Wendy. You opened the door and were greeted by a big hug.

“Hey, YN!” She beamed as she eyed your outfit up and down. “You look amazing! Where’d you get the shoes?”

“Oh, I thrifted it, actually.” 

“Woah, we should go do that some time! I’d love to thrift with you.” She said as you walked out the door, double-checking your keys and locking the knob. “It’s great for the environment, plus you might already know some great thrift areas here.” 

As you two got in the car, you continued chatting. Be it about music, art, poetry, and of the like, the ride was never quiet. Although you were a relatively approachable person, you didn’t talk a lot. With Wendy, it was the opposite. You found yourself going on long tangents and ranting as she listened happily.

“Really? Edgar Allan Poe?” Wendy mused. She was intrigued by your fascination with the writer during your middle school years. According to her, you didn’t seem like the type of person to enjoy his work.

“Yeah,” you sighed, chuckling at her bewilderment. “I mean, you don’t strike me as an Oscar Wilde enjoyer either.”

“What can I say? I like the simplicity and beauty of his writing.”

“Well, I like Poe’s use of imagery and dark themes.” Like dark and light were you two sometimes. Two sides of the same coin, yet somehow complete opposites.

“We’re here, by the way,” she said as she pulled up by the sidewalk of Tolkien’s house.

“Alright,” you replied, unbuckling your seatbelt as you exited the car.

Though it was just 9 PM, the place was already packed. The place somewhat reeked the smell of weed and alcohol already, and bright, colorful lights swayed and flashed nearly everywhere. Music was blaring, and peoples’ chatters filled the room and blasted your ears. It was an overwhelming atmosphere. You had been there for just 10 minutes, and you already felt like you were about to pass out. 

“Hey, Bebe’s already here, so I’m just gonna say hi to then I’ll show you around.” She smiled at you. You answered with a nod, and she headed away in a dash. To keep your head above water, you decided to stand in the middle of a hallway, where it was a lot more quiet—just to ground yourself.

You were leaning back against the wall, minding your own business and calming down from the mess that was earlier. Needless to say, you were overwhelmed.

“Well, I haven’t seen you here,” A voice spoke in front of you. Immediately, you snapped your head up to see who it was. You were confronted with a taller guy sporting a dirty blonde mullet. He didn’t look shabby. No, not at all.

“Are you new here?” He smiled, casually bringing out his hand out for a handshake.

“Well, I’ve been here for a few months already.” You hesitantly shook his hand.

“Then why haven’t I seen a pretty face like yours around here?” You wanted to cringe, but you also wanted to be polite. You were intrigued as well, though. You’ve never been approached like this.

“I, unfortunately, do not go out a lot.” You sighed.

“Hmm… But you seem really familiar.” He paused, deep in thought. “Oh! You’re YN from English class, yeah?”

“You just noticed right now?” You raised a brow, giggling at his slowness.

“Well, sorry, we’ve only had school for a month, and I skip most of my classes. Forgive me if I’m a little slow.” He lightheartedly joked. “Do you know who I am, though?”

“Some guy from my English class, I’d assume.”

“Ouch. A cute person doesn’t know I exist. Ahhh, it hurts.” He placed his hands over his chest, acting as if he was having a heart attack. “The only cure is a kiss on the lips.” He said, fluttering his eyelashes.

“You’re desperate.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m not saving you.”

“On the cheeks?”

“Still no.”

“On the hand?”

“Nope.”

“Anything!” He placed the back of his hand on his forehead. “Woe is me, dearest YN!”

“Do you want my number?” You chuckled, pitying him a little bit. While he does seem a little weird, he was definitely an interesting and fun person to be around. You just have to keep your distance, you figured.

“Why thank you, great YN!” He said, handing you his phone. You chuckled, feeling a little bit embarrassed for him. You put in his number and handed it back to him. He sent a ‘hi’ on his phone, and you heard your phone ring with his number on it. “I’m Kenny if you don’t already know.”

“Huh, nice to meet you then.” You smiled at him—just to be polite, though. “I’m guessing you’ve already had a lot to drink.” You said, smelling the booze and weed off of him. His scent was the entire party.

“You know it, baby.” He winked at you before turning on his heel to head back to the main area of the place. “I’ll see you in English, YN. Byeeeee!” He waved.

You waved back, knowing he wouldn’t turn back to look at you anyways. You didn’t know why, but you seemed to like the guy’s presence. It felt inviting, unlike a lot of the people you’ve met here so far.

“YN!” You hear a voice call you out from the end of the hallway. It was Wendy with Bebe trailing right behind her. “There you are! I’ve been looking around the whole place for you.” She said, grabbing your shoulder.

“Ahh, sorry, Wends.” You apologized, feeling a little guilty for not telling Wendy where you were. “I was overwhelmed by the place, so I needed to find some place a little quieter…”

“That’s alright! You shouldn’t apologize for making yourself comfortable.” She patted your back. “Now let me show you around,” she said, whisking you away from one of the only quiet areas in the mansion.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

That night was a blast. You didn’t drink too much, but you had enough to get you a lot more chattier than usual. Besides Kenny, whom you did not tell Wendy about yet, you met three new people! They were of the names Tweek, Craig, and Jimmy. Tolkien was a part of their friend group, but you couldn’t say hi to him since he was plenty busy getting more ice for everyone.

You also remembered meeting Kenny’s friends last night. Stan, Kyle, and Cartman. You were only really well acquainted with Kyle. You’ve talked to him a few times outside academic matters, so you’ve come to learn that he had a boyfriend, which was the other guy mentioned earlier—Stan, who also happened to be Wendy’s boyfriend for a while.

All this history between a few people interested you, but it also kind of hit you like a truck. This town was built on years of people with deep connections. You had just moved in, and many of these people probably didn’t want you in your group, seeing how they’re comfortable and happy in their cliques. This made you upset at first, but then you realized you were happy to know that there were people who accepted you into their lives wholeheartedly.

You were recalling the events of last night, remembering that Kenny had approached you once more that night.

“So, how are you liking South Park, pretty?” He slid beside you on the couch. Wendy was currently getting drinks for the two of you, so she was currently occupied in the kitchen right now. “Is it good? Bad? I know it's sometimes pretty batshit weird here, but you just gotta trust me when I say-”

“I think I need more time to fully grapple with a single opinion on this place,” you answered, feeling a little dizzy from the alcohol. You didn’t realize it, but you laid your head on his shoulder as you spoke. “There’s a whole lot of niche people in this town. At least that means I can explore it from different angles.”

“Huh…” Kenny didn’t seem to be at all fazed by your touch. In fact, he indulged in it, even going so far as to pat your head. “That’s a very positive outlook—compared to all the other ones I’ve heard from here. I like that.” Really, yours was probably one of the most cheerful views among the town full of negative minds.

“Haha, thanks. You were kinda weird at first, I’ll be honest. Like, earlier in the hallway.” Your bluntness from being tipsy served you an appreciative comment from Kenny, but maybe not anymore. “I think I like you, though, Kenny, or at least I think I will.” You said mindlessly.

“Oh, really? What’ll make you really like me then?” He asked lightheartedly, expecting a dry reply from you.

You leaned back on the couch, removing yourself from the comfort of Kenny’s shoulder, as you looked at Tolkien’s ceiling to think. “Go to class more. If you do, maybe I can get to know you better.”

There was a quiet between you. All Kenny did was nod. While the party was booming and more live than ever, you were up in your little world enjoying the feeling of the alcohol pumping through your body.

That silence was disturbed when Wendy came back and handed your drinks. “Kenny? What are you doing here?” She asked. For a moment, you could tell she seemed slightly annoyed by his presence, but you didn’t ask her about it—not wanting to press on any possible wounds.

“I was just giving them some company.” He said, getting up from the couch. You felt the couch gently rise back to, what you could assume, was its normal state. “I’ll get out of your hair now. See you, YN.” He winked at you as he walked off.

How did you feel about the whole thing? A little weary because of how agitated Wendy seemed when she saw you two beside each other. Of course, it was more logical to trust your close friend over someone you just met. You just wondered why she didn’t like him.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

It was the day after the party. You were in your first subject—English class—and most of the students were absolutely hammered—including you. That didn’t matter, though. You had a blast that night, and you were sure that all the fun you had was worth it.

While waiting for your teacher to come, heard a crash by the front of the classroom. Curious, you looked up, and, to everyone’s surprise, it was Kenny. He scanned the classroom for empty seats and took the one next to you.

“Hey, angel face.” He winked at you. You rolled your eyes and quietly waved at him. Maybe the party brought some bad things as well. It’s not that you hated Kenny, but it’s just that you didn’t want to be flirted with nonstop.

You were currently just doodling in your notebook whatever you thought. Some scribbled-out lyrics and quotes here, some drawings there. “I thought you skipped school often. What happened?”

“I wanted to see you,” he answered, leaning his head on his palm as he watched you write away. He took a glance and saw your notebook. “Hey, is that Bocchi?” He said, pointing to a little sketch you indeed made of the character earlier.

“Yeah,” you said, surprised he knew who it was. Although, you were a little weary of the type of fan he was. “You’ve seen Bocchi the Rock?” You turned your head to him as you dropped your pen, your interest in him being piqued.

Now you’ve certainly got him excited. He lifted his head from his palm and leaned in closer to you. “I recently binged the show with Stan.”

Maybe this was a chance for you to know him outside of the flirty names. You decided to start somewhere simple. “Who’s your favorite character?”

“Hmm…” He sat there, thinking for a split second. “If we’re talking about the people in the band, Ryo, I think. If we’re talking about all of the characters, definitely the drunk bassist girl. She’s cool.”

“Kikuri?” He nodded. “Well, I can’t say I’m too surprised to know that she’s your favorite.” You chuckled.

“Huh? What does that mean?”

You hummed teasingly, continuing to draw in your sketchbook. He kept asking, but you kept prancing over the answer lightheartedly. This wouldn’t go on for long, though, since the class was about to start.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The whole week was honestly a blast. You and Kenny bonded over your love for animation. You spent time at his place, he spent time at yours, and you two endlessly watched and rewatched a bunch of movies and shows.

He wasn’t much of an artist, but he did have a huge appreciation for animation and art in general. He told you once that it was his little sister who actually sparked his interest in the medium. You found it endearing.

Asides from that, you realized you two were becoming closer. He wasn’t as cheesy as you initially thought, but it was still definitely there nonetheless. Under the surface of pet names and bad pick-up lines was a genuinely positive and charismatic guy underneath all that.

I don’t know, you found him fun to be with, and you were looking to be friends with more people here. Kenny seemed to fill in that role. He seemed like someone you trusted, seeing how you’d already been to each others’ houses. You two grew close, needless to say.

“YN, can I tell you something?” Wendy’s voice snapped you out of thought. You were currently in her room with her and Bebe. She invited you first, and you said no because you thought you’d be intruding on the couples’ time alone, but she insisted for some reason.

“What is it, Wends?”

“Well,” she nervously trailed off. “I’ve noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with Kenny, and while that’s great and all, I need you to know the person he actually is…”

“What do you mean by that?” You replied, a little confused.

“He’s,” she paused, seemingly hesitant to continue. “He’s kinda known to go around flirting with other people.”

“Alright, and?” Now you were confused. Sure, you enjoyed Kenny’s company, but you weren’t entitled to it. “I don’t like like him, Wendy.”

“That may be true, but I’m just looking out for you, okay? Whether you like him or not, I want you to know the type of person he is so you’re aware of the type of people you surround yourself around.”

Wendy made sense, though. Maybe he was a bad person, maybe he wasn’t. Should you start distancing yourself from him? You didn’t want to, definitely, but should you? Could you? You didn’t quite know what to do. You really enjoyed his presence. It felt easy being around him. You felt like you could be yourself around him. Wendy too—no questions asked—but you couldn’t just also rely on her forever. You had to grow at some point.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

That night, you were deep in thought about what Wendy said. Was it even important anyways? Or did you just have nothing to think about? You weren’t sure. You were slumped against the bed, thinking about your choices.

Something caught you off guard, though. You felt something stuck in your throat. You gagged on it, scared of the feeling. Once you got it out, you looked at what it was—a daisy? Why, when, and how on Earth would you have swallowed an entire flower whole?

The next few minutes were wash, rinse, and repeat as more flowers bubbled up your throat and out your mouth. You were terrified, to say the least. Did you eat a daisy seed, and it grew in your stomach? Were you about to turn into one big flower?

There was no way you were telling this to anyone, though, not until you find out what it is. You looked up your symptoms and saw the diagnosis exactly aligned with what was happening to you right now—Hanahaki Disease.

Before you got in bed, though, you continued to look into it a bit more. So, your choices were either to confess, to get surgery, or to let it consume you. Yeah, you wanted to avoid the first two as much as possible.

That all lead up to the question of who was it you had a crush on? You sat there, a little confused. You skimmed through your options until it hit you—it was probably Kenny. Was this what Wendy was warning you about? Chancefully and quite likely as well.

You would just have to wait for tomorrow and see.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Your first subject was English once more. You were currently wearing a mask, just in case you coughed and didn’t catch a petal or flower. You sat in your usual seat, scribbling away in your notebook.

“What’s with the mask, YN? Trying to be edgy or something?” Kenny said from behind you. After that, he took his place beside you.

“I’m actually sick, thank you very much.”

“Oh, well, get soon then.” He casually said, patting your head. “There’s an outdoor cinema showing tonight. I think they’re showing Fantastic Mr. Fox. You wanna go?”

“We just watched that a few days ago.”

“Who says we can’t watch it again?”

You hummed, finding yourself agreeing with him.

You were interrupted by a string of coughs, feeling the many flowers rise. Last night and earlier this morning, they weren’t too bad, yet why now did it seemingly amplify? You excused yourself to the bathroom just to get rid of the flowers, still trying to process the pattern of your flowers’ frequency.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

A little later, it was now lunch. Your mom had packed you some food, so you were by the bleachers of the field watching Wendy and Bebe practice for their upcoming cheer competition. 

In your peripherals, you saw Kenny hanging out with a girl. You didn’t pay too much mind to it. I mean, who are you to judge him for having friends? Yet Wendy’s comment from last night seemed to have popped into your head. Should you really be wary of him?

Well, you did have another clue as to what to do as you saw Kenny get closer to the girl. Probably a bit too close for it to be considered friendly. You were confused, though—he never told you about him having a girlfriend. Perhaps Wendy was right.

You felt your throat closing on you again as you started to cough violently. This was the second time today you had flowers sprouting more violently than usual. You sighed, already exhausted from this disease, as you leaned back on the seat behind you.

Seeing how Kenny may or may not have a girlfriend, you began to rethink your choices. You most probably did start to like him, but what are you gonna do about it? Would it be best to confess, or is surgery—and even death—the answer?

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Are you ready for our date?” Kenny winked, pulling you out of the door by the arm. You found yourself blushing at his statement.

“Not really, but that is a very bold question to greet me with. I’ll give you that.” You hummed, letting go of his hand that was attached to your arm.

Your night with Kenny was fun. It wasn’t fancy or anything, but it was a very cozy night. You remember it in flashes. From takeout in 7/11 to the actual movie itself, it felt like there was a blurred line between romance and platonic. For you, at least.

You could recall many moments that night where you stared off at Kenny instead, telling yourself ‘You know, I think I’m okay with liking this guy.’ You fully accepted that you liked him.

You remember that, at one point, you were lost in his eyes. Your jaw was slightly agape, your eyes were off in the distance, and you were just focused on him. You hated how smitten he got you in a week or less, yet you also really liked spending time with him. The blame is probably on you.

You could just sit there and stare at him, though. You lost his appearance. The way his hair was always unkempt, the way he was so careless in his outfits yet so stylish, the way freckles littered all over his body, the way you noted the small gap in his front teeth whenever he smiled at you, the way his fingers seem so calloused. You were lost in it all.

“YN?” He called. “YN!” He shooked your body, not with too much force—just enough to snap you back into reality.

“Ah, sorry,” you apologized, shaking your head. “What were you saying?”

“The movie was fun, right?” For a moment, you could’ve sworn that there was a glint of worry in his eyes. Like your opinion actually mattered. You were probably just making things up, though.

“Of course. I mean, it’s not called Fantastic Mr. Fox for nothing, right?” You gave a comforting smile at him, in case by the off-chance what your eyes saw in his was right.

Maybe you were right cause you saw him beam after that. “You’re right. That final fight sequence where there are explosions and stuff will always get me.” He happily taped on the steering wheel of his extremely worn-out car. “You wanna go somewhere else right now, princess?”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Eventually, you knew you had to tell Wendy all about this, though.

“Wendy, I have Hanahaki, and I think it’s because I like—”

“Kenny?” You nodded. “What did I tell you?”

You sighed. It was a few days after your little outing with Kenny. You felt guilty. You should’ve listened to Wendy and gotten away before you had the chance. “Yeah, I’m sorry. You can’t fully blame me, though. I never thought I would like Kenny.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry for being harsh about him.” She pouted, rubbing your back as you buried your face in your hands. “What are you gonna do about it anyway?”

“I wanna try confessing, but I have my doubts. I mean, you’ve seen him with other girls, right?” She nodded. “If ever it doesn’t work, I’m not quite sure what to do…”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure things’ll work out for you.” She smiled hopefully at you. These were not the type of situations it’s easy to maintain hope, but definitely, you knew you could be alright for now as long as you keep your head above water.

“Thanks, Wends.”

“Of course, YN.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

A week went by. You were trying to build up the courage to tell him, but every time you did you were often greeted by someone talking to him first. It was either that or you were too ashamed to show your face to him anymore. You began to keep to yourself instead.

It couldn’t last like this forever, though, at some point, you did have to see some results appear. Kenny was starting to message you more often, and you could feel the worry from his messages. All this for someone you’ve only known for like two weeks?

It was either go all in or go with nothing. Seeing how your life was on the line, you decided it was probably best to confront him. You even asked Wendy about it, to which she was kinda annoyed with how you had even spaced yourself away from him. Thinking about it now, it was kinda stupid.

You called him up on the phone reluctantly. Luckily for you, he answered.

“Hey, Kenny?” You said, your voice much raspier over the week.

“What’s up, YN?” There was a hint of concern in his voice. You had been dodging him a lot recently—it was only right of him to worry.

“Are you busy right now?”

“No, not really. How come?”

“I can’t explain right now.” Your hands were shaking over the phone. Your chest was filling up with nervousness. “Can you meet me behind the school? Like, right now?”

“Alright.”

Minutes later, you found yourself playing with your hands on your lap. With every passing minute, flowers bloomed more and more out of your chest. Before Kenny could arrive, you tried to pull them all out of your mouth.

“What’s the problem, YN?” Kenny suddenly appeared by your side as he slid on the bench you sat on. The distress on his face was greater than you could possibly imagine. To be honest, you felt really guilty for making him feel this way.

“I like you, Kenny.” You said. Straight to the point, easy, quick. Painless, like ripping a bandaid off a wound. The question is if it’ll sting right after.

“I know,” was all he said. 

“Huh?” You were confused. How could he possibly have known? Were you just that obvious? “Kenny, I like you a lot. Like, romantically.” You sighed, shaking your head.

Quiet was all you heard. This was new, at least for you. It would always be a little noisy whenever you were with him.

When you looked up at him, you could only see him staring at you, mouth agape like you on that one night. Not in a way that he was astonished by you, no, in a way where he was shocked.

You might as well explain everything while you’re at it. “I developed Hanahaki because of it, and I saw how close you were with others a lot.” You left out the part Wendy told you to stray away intentionally, not wanting him to be offended or anything. “I figured why even try to confess if it seemed like you were going to reject me anyway?”

“What made you confess, then?”

“I knew had to stay alive, and I had to face the fact that you were my only hope.”

He wrapped your arms around you in a comforting hug. You assumed the worst with his silence. You assumed that he didn’t like you. You felt the flowers in your chest push themselves out of you. You hunched over, detaching yourself from his embrace, coughing violently as flowers slipped out of your mouth.

He patted your back, and, before you could realize it, you started to cry. Was this it for you? Your life is at its end because a guy flirted with you at a party? That’s so stupid.

He noticed your tears, though, and he pulled your hair behind your ear. “Why are you crying, princess?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You don’t like me, and now I have to decide what horrible fate I have to put myself through!” You felt guilty for putting the blame on him, but you were scared. What the fuck were you going to do now?

“Woah, there.” He suddenly stopped you, pulling you up from your slumped position. “Who said I didn’t like you?”

You paused right then and there. For that very moment, all flowers growing in your chest and all tears threatening to pour had stopped. “Huh?”

“I like you too, YN. Ever since.” He chuckled at your dumbfoundedness, pulling you into another hug.

“You didn’t say it, though!”

“Were all the pet names and, quote-unquote, ‘dates’ I took you to not obvious enough?”

“I thought you were like that to everyone else…”

“Sure, but that was before.” He sighed, shaking his head as he laughed. “I thought you were a really pretty thing at first when I met you at that party, YN. It was shallow, I know, but our conversation later that night really sparked my interest in you. I’ve liked you ever since.”

“But the girls…”

“I was asking them for advice.” He smacked his lips. “I just never went through with them because I noticed you were distancing yourself away from me. I thought you were, like, trying to subtly say you didn’t like me anymore—or even at all.” 

“Kenny,” you hummed against his chest.

“Yeah?”

“I’m so sorry. Thank you very much.” You whispered against his chest.

“Always and forever, pretty.”

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hiiiii i hope it’s okay that I’m submitting this not on a weekend but as always I’m haunted by your fics and want as much as you’re willing to give!

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸(ik this is a lot of emojis but i mean can you blame me i think this story has forever changed me - and I’m especially loving all the reunions!)

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊(buck please learn that you’re lovable and that eddie loves you for you!)

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨(established relationship! Don’t mind if i do! And i love how in any universe eddie can’t not keep the will a secret for a while)

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮(CRANBERRY MY BABY COME BACK TO ME)

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️(PROPOSAL!!!! CAL YOU’RE TOO GOOD TO ME!!!)

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮(this visiting each others childhoods thing is so intriguing! Can’t wait to see what scenes you’ve thought up!)

You’re my favoritest person and i already love everything you write in response to this! Thanks for sharing!!

TOTALLY OKAY THANK YOU!!!

81 for 🩸(AHH THANK YO!!!!):

---

Eddie is quiet when they leave May’s apartment. Buck understands why. It’s a lot to process. The knowledge, fresh from the CDC, that he might just collapse at any moment and wake up healed. How there is a path forward to getting his life back, but not one he can choose to take or even line himself up for. It’s cruel, really. Buck feels the cruelty of it, so he can’t imagine how much worse that is for Eddie.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Buck asks during the drive. 

“Honestly? Not really.” Eddie sighs. “Like Athena said, until there are legal protections put in place, nothing changes.”

Buck nods. “Sorry.”

I’m sorry, but I will keep you safe. I will protect you. Keep letting me. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Buck asks. “I know today has been heavy.”

Eddie thinks on it for a second.

“Can we not go home yet?”

“S-sure,” Buck says, surprised. “Is there something you want to do?”

Eddie shrugs. “Not really. I just… I just don’t want to go back to the house just yet. I want to… Can you and I just stay out longer?”

“Of course,” Buck says. “Yeah, let’s… Let’s just drive.”

“Thank you,” Eddie mutters. 

Buck takes an exit that sends them southwest. In the opposite direction of home. Towards the water. Eddie starts fiddling with Buck’s CarPlay, finding a playlist of Buck’s that they used to listen to on drives. He’s the only person in the world, besides Chris, who he lets touch his music settings when driving. He keeps the volume low, then slumps back in the passenger seat, eyes drifting shut. 

An entire Fleetwood Mac song plays. Buck struggles to focus on the road, eyes keep flicking to Eddie’s still voice, ears filled music. 

So I close my eyes softly, till I become that part of the wind…

Buck can’t help the shaky exhale that escapes his lungs. It’s easy to forget that this is real. Really Eddie, in front of him. That he’s not going to disappear into mist. Buck has to keep himself from tracing the lines of Eddie’s profile with his eyes, so they don’t accidentally swerve into oncoming traffic.

Eddie doesn’t say anything again until Stevie Nicks is done signing about tracking ghosts through the fog. 

“I can’t bank on this Spontaneous Elimination shit,” is what he says as the playlist switches to something a bit more modern. 

“No.” Buck answers, because it’s the truth. He shouldn’t sugar coat it. 

But…

“But they’re looking for other cures,” he reminds Eddie. 

Eddie nods, still not opening his eyes. 

“Accessing that would probably mean coming forward about my, uh, condition. Medical records. Paper trails.”

“There is that,” Buck agrees. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says. “For all of it, Buck.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Eddie.” Buck shakes his head. He feels frustrated. This isn’t Eddie’s fault. “I told you already I know what happened wasn’t your-”

“Not for that,” Eddie interrupts. He pauses, finally opening his eyes. “Well, yeah. Okay, that’s part of it. But more for what’s still left.”

“What do you mean?” Buck asks. 

“This whole mess. It just keeps going. I can never get my life back, I don’t think.” He explains. “And so I need you, I’m dependent on you, and I’m sorry that that means your life is… Less, I guess, than it might have been.”

Buck sighs. Fuck.

---

30 for 🌊 (ALMOST DONE THIS ONE! And he is learning it!):

---

“That makes sense,” Buck says“How can we make it quieter?” Buck asks, the thrum of his voice tickling the back of Eddie’s neck. 

“I don’t know,” Eddie admits. “I think now that things are calm, I’m mentally catching up.”

. “It’s been a crazy few days.”

“Sure has,” Eddie agrees. “And I guess… Okay, don’t take this the wrong way.”

He really doesn’t need any more misinterpretations coming out of this bed. 

“O-okay,” Buck answers nervously. 

“I think it’s actually sinking in that you’re here and I didn’t mess things up irreparably.” Eddie admits. 

“Oh,” Buck whispers. He squeezes Eddie a little tighter. “Well very few things can’t be fixed, right?”

“I don’t know.” Eddie replies. “That’s not always been my experience.”

“Mine either, but…” Buck trails off, thinking. He presses a kiss to the back of Eddie’s neck. “Maybe it’s different for us.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie asks. “Why is that?”

“I’m not saying we don’t have to work on stuff, or whatever. Our own crap.” Buck clarifies.

---

42 for 🚨 (yesss Eddie's gonna sit on it for a minute):

---

Eddie holds his breath. 

“Okay,” Chris says after a moment. “That’s good.”

Eddie hears Buck exhale.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. 

“So you just decided?” Chris asks, brows furrowed. “Like you decided Buck is your boyfriend now?”

Eddie isn’t sure what’s confusing him.

“Uh, yes,” he answers. What’s he gonna say? He almost died and then they had sex? Definitely not.

Christopher’s eyes widen in alarm. “Can that happen? Somebody just says you are their boyfriend now?”

“Oh, buddy. No,” Buck jumps to assuage these fears. “We talked about it. It’s what we both want.”

“Oh,” Chris says. “Phew. Because Linnea Templeton keeps following me around at recess and I don’t want her to decide I’m her boyfriend.”

Eddie tries not to laugh. “Okay, well she can’t do that, Chris. If she’s bugging you, let’s talk to your teacher, alright?”

“Alright,” Chris agrees. 

“Do you have any questions for Buck and I?” Eddie asks. 

Christopher considers. 

“I don’t know,” he asks. “Are you going to get married?”

Buck coughs a little. 

“Oh, well…” Eddie looks at Buck, cheeks heated. “I think it’s too soon to know.”

“Why?” Chris asks. 

“Those things usually take some time,” Buck replies. 

“Like how much?” Chris presses. 

What the fuck, kid?

---

21 for 🦮 (she's almost ready!):

---

Maybe there’s a difference between mourning what he lost and denying himself a future he likes. He’s not sure he trusts it. But maybe. 

“Thanks for hanging out with me today, Chris,” Buck says. “Cranberry and I are pretty lucky to have you as a friend.”

Chris grins. “You’re welcome!” 

“Your dad is going to be jealous that he had to spend all day getting soaked out there helping people while we had fun,” Buck says. 

Chris laughs. “He should play hooky from work sometimes.”

“Pfft, yeah. Who wants to go to work?” 

🦮🦮🦮

It’s close to midnight by the time Eddie gets home. Chris is sleeping in bed with the door propped open. Cranberry is curled up at the foot of his bed. Buck had meant to keep her out with him so she doesn’t wake him if she is alerted by Eddie walking through the door. But Chris had weaponized some pretty intense begging eyes when he asked to sleep with her. What was Buck supposed to do?

Eddie looks exhausted and smells like sea water and sweat.  “Thank you so much,” he says to Buck. “I seriously owe you.”

---

63 for ⚡️ (HELL YEAH A PROPOSAL):

SPOILERS AHEAD

---

“He will say yes,” Maddie replies easily. “Which I think you must already know. Otherwise the tone of this conversation would be very different.”

Buck smirks. “I think he’ll say yes.”

“Do you have a ring yet?” Maddie asks. “Are you doing a ring?” 

“No,” Buck says. “I mean, yes, I want to do a ring. No, I don’t have one.”

“Do you want help shopping?” Maddie offers. 

“Yeah, I would. I’d love that, actually.” Buck grins. “But there’s someone else I think I need to bring, too. Just gotta tell him first.”

☆☆☆

Eddie goes to the person he always goes to when he’s not sure what’s in his head, after Buck. Because he can’t exactly take this to Buck. He goes to Bobby. 

He won’t lie. He does have some reservations about bringing this to Bobby. Not that he thinks Bobby would steer him wrong. More like, it feels a bit less like going to a confidant for advice, and something closer to asking a father for blessing to marry his child. And, honestly? Maybe there is some of that here. But mostly, Eddie sincerely wants Bobby’s take. 

It is surprisingly easy for Eddie to go to Bobby without arousing curiosity in Buck. Like, Buck is almost eager for him to be out of the house?

“I need to help Pepa with some yard work,” Eddie announces, like a liar, the night before a day off. “I was thinking of going tomorrow afternoon. Are you good with Chris for the day?”

He is ready to have to say, no, Buck, I don’t need your help. I can go alone. Because it is so very like Buck to offer to help. 

Except, this time, he does no such thing.

“Sure! Have fun,” Buck grins. “Say hi to Pepa for me. Chris and I will probably go out for dinner, so stay as long as you need.”

Well, okay. 

So Eddie leaves the next day to Buck thrusting an extra-large reusable water bottle in his hand and practically ushering him out the door. He knows Chris and Buck have fun one-on-one without him, but damn. Trying not to feel at all sore about it, he drives to Bobby’s. 

Eddie did not ask Bobby if he could drop in on him and trouble him with his nuptial questions. Bobby mentioned he had no plans for their four-off, and Eddie just kind of takes advantage of that intel. 

“Eddie,” Bobby greets him with a smile. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“I was kind of hoping to talk about something sort of serious,” Eddie says. “If now is an okay time?”

“Sure,” Bobby frowns. “No transfer papers I hope?”

That fun old inside joke. Jesus. Though does he have to transfer if they get married? Is it, like, an extra conflict of interest?

“Ha, no.” Eddie chuckles awkwardly. “Definitely not.”

“Good. Then come on in,” Bobby lets him through the door. “What’s going on?”

---

27 for 🔮 (thank you so much!):

---

Has Bobby been sent here to change Maddie’s future? That seems insane and random, but who is he to say? Who is he to question it? He has to, at the very least, try. 

So Bobby walks up to the edge of the driveway, in plain view of the van, and calls out to her. 

“Excuse me!” He tries. “Maddie Buckley?”

Nothing. Maddie doesn’t turn. Buck doesn’t turn. In the van, Doug doesn’t turn. 

Interesting. 

“Maddie!” He shouts, a little louder. 

Nada. 

Bobby walks over and knocks on the side of the van. He can feel and hear it, but no one seems to notice. He picks up a stone on the ground and tosses it up the driveway, landing a foot away from the porch. No one sees. 

Okay. Okay, so Bobby is just a passenger here. He’s just meant to watch. 

In the van, Doug rolls his eyes and gives a little honk. The absolute ass. Maddie tenses on the porch.

“I have to go, Evan,” she says.

[strapskinkstories]

Looks gross don’t it? Sorry. But it is what it is. This is medical update May 25 2023

You were probably hoping to see me hop in the vacbag and have fun. I was too. But instead someone on Tuesday at the library, the Mariano’s, or another grocery store we frequent called Eurofresh was carrying some very dangerous cooties on them. Luckily it isn’t Covid. The bad news though, it’s a really nasty sinus infection that has managed to in a matter of two days wreck up my entire upper airway and start threatening my lungs.

Enter the advocate clinic. This place is my armory against all illnesses. These people have been there and ready to serve me at a moments notice with NUKEULAR grade antibiotics. And so I’ve got some NUKEULAR weapons against bacteria in my medicine cabinet and the war has begun. They might have thought they’d have an easy win but not with me and my arsenal of antibiotics.

I get these weird sinus infections in spring and winter. About twice a year. The jarring transition between seasons, the dry air, the high allergen counts. My immune system gets too busy fighting off allergens and is already hampered by the COVID vaccine. Toying around with the “COVID Simulation” molecules that it produces. This is good. This means I’m protected against Covid. But it also can sometimes backfire because if I within a month of the vaccine become exposed to a bacteria that my system can’t handle. The shit hits the fan like this.

So here we are. I’ve been knocked out of play for the last week because of my pelvis, and now I’m out for another week because of this infection.

Let’s hope this is a uncomplicated infection and it doesn’t go like last years prevotella nightmare.

My mental health can’t deal with that shit. I can’t deal with a month and a half of going back and fort with doctors. So if this antibiotic doesn’t cure everything I’ll be forcing the hospital to admit me to infectious diseases unit and go ultra NUKEULAR with IV antibiotics. Here’s to hoping that doesn’t happen because that would suck royally.

So yeah. Not exactly the update y’all wanted to be reading. I’m sure you’d rather this be an erotic story but unfortunately. This is what it is. Welcome to life living with disabilities and special medical needs.

[brooklynislandgirl]

{Legitimately a crime to cut This, and it hurts my soul to do it} @kylo-wrecked

Knit two, purl two. An ever cascading rib stitch while she balances her phone between her ear and her jaw. Elizabeth Riley is no stranger to the small hours that permeate the human experience and people it with dread. With fears that were born with the earth or perhaps even long before it. It’s almost a shame that he can’t see the soft smile that blooms like certain varietals of pikake. A shame he isn’t laying across her couch with his head in her lap while she strokes his hair and occasionally forces small sips of herbal tea on him, promising to add a touch more honey next time.

“Hi,” she murmurs in his pause. “You up to somet’ing exciting?”

A fire-hazard of candles and dim lamp light bath her in flickering amber light. The colour reminds her of those moments sunlight shine directly into his eyes before he blinks himself and everything else away.

He isn’t really calling her so late because he wants to debate the sweeping expanse of ideals and realism. “It’s late,” she says. “And aren’t you small kine past cramming?” She hears movement, imagines the restless sprawl of uncoordinated limbs.

And maybe relief courses through her when he changes tack but doesn’t wholly furl his verbal sails. Good. She doesn’t think he wants to really know that medical humanities were more focused, or when she was in her approaching her residency she actively cared for a child with congenital heart disease as he died of multi-system organ failure and no poetry or philosophical argument could tell her how to let go, or help her soothe him. It was no mystery why she withdrew from the field much to her mentor’s disappointment and understanding entwined, though it isn’t something she’s talked to Ben about. He’d see her as weak. His anxiety shapes his words though and all of her rises up to try and comfort him despite being only a voice carried on the waves between cell towers. He makes her ache with that innocent honesty. And his voice, when it swells, swallows her wince. “Yeah, I s’pose so, but I like Brooklyn. Less scary t’ me dan da city, ya know? Buildings like mountains, blottin’ out da sky. Light pollution. But time..no cure for dat, I don’ t’ink.” It becomes her turn to falter before a little breath somewhere between sigh and gasp telegraphs that she’s stumbled something.

“So wha’ I wan ya do f’ me, okay? Unclench yaself, an’ cuddle up in wha’evah way make you mos’ comfortable, okay?”

Even when she commands, she makes it sound like a request.

“Now, want ya close ya eyes, an’ take deep brea’d in, deep brea’d out.” She imagines him on his side, arms and legs wrapped around a body pillow, the way he would sleep if he ever stayed a full night with her. She closes her eyes in solidarity. Breathes as she instructed. Then, very quietly at first, she reaches back to her childhood, her infancy. She reaches to the piece of herself she’s kept so far out of Ben’s reach, he likely doesn’t know it exists. At first he might hear the hesitation in her tone, she hasn’t chanted properly in what feels like aeons, nor is she a Mea oli, but while she never quite gains volume or speed, it would be almost impossible not to hear her bloom in her soft utterances. “...O ke au i kahuli wela ka honua “O ke au i kahuli lolo ka lani “O ke au i kuka’aika ka la “E ho’omalamalama i ka malama “O ke au o Makali’i ka po “O ka walewale ho’okumu honua ia “O ke kumu o ka lipo, i lipo ai “O ke kumu o ka Po, i po ai “O ka lipolipo, o ka lipolipo “O ka lipo o ka la, o ka lipo o ka po “Po wale ho--’i “Hanau ka po “Hanau Kumulipo i ka po, he kane “Hanau Po’ele i ka po, he wahine...”

[coreyww]

For people who have ADHD specifically:

You know, for a while, I kinda thought medication would solve most or all of my problems. And I’ve kinda realized that’s a bad way to look at it. Don’t get me wrong, it helps (at least, having the RIGHT medication helps, don’t get discouraged if you try one and it ends up working a little then showing side effects that make life more difficult and you gotta try again; happened to me, it’s like throwing darts to find the right med and dosage sometimes). But it doesn’t AUTOMATICALLY make you feel neurotypical. It takes a lot of like…being aware of the things you do that make other people feel bad or that are unhealthy behaviors you may not notice and making the effort to consciously change it.

In all honesty the best most proactive thing that has helped me get myself together was when I let people I was around a lot and trusted to tell me the truth what was going on with me. I went “hey I switched meds recently, if you notice anything change that’s bad let me know” or “hey I’ve felt kind of off recently have you noticed anything weird that I’ve done”. And people started telling me the truth when I was acting off or doing things that made them feel bad (for example, interrupting people or what have you) and took the feedback and consciously worked on it.

And if that sounds terrifying to you, it did me too, I almost always have to fight the urge to get defensive when it comes up. But since it’s coming from people I trusted who weren’t being dicks, I actually listened and examined what I’ve done and almost always go “oh yeah they’re right, I didn’t notice but I have been doing that”. And THEN I can usually start to figure out how to handle it better, or at least try to. It at least gives me a way to try to work on the root cause.

So yeah. If you haven’t tried meds, definitely try them but don’t get discouraged if it isn’t a cure all. If you’re on meds and you still have issues, don’t get discouraged. Let people who you really, really trust and are around you a lot know what’s going on and ask if they can point out if they notice something and genuinely take the feedback and do the best you can with it.

It doesn’t always just take medication, it takes personally effort to take feedback and change sometimes too. (Ain’t that a pisser lol)

[elenarodriiguez]

"you're all i have" | d.j.

summary: reassuring your girlfriend is all you want to do when you wake up in the medbay.

pairing: daisy johnson x reader

cw: implied injury

word count: 568

prompt: "you're all i have", “i need you" & "your voice is putting me to sleep" by anon

The feeling of the unrelenting medical bay bed is an unwelcome but not unusual wake up call. Your eyes flutter open to find your girlfriend sitting vigil at your bedside, the blonde hair looking in dire need for a good wash and a brush being run through it. Coughing to try and get rid of the dry taste lingering in your mouth, you wake her up, her eyes darting over to you and immediately fobbing a glass of water onto you. Swallowing the drink all in one go, you dare to push yourself up on the bed, despite her anxious grimace as you move.

“What happened?” You ask, your voice notably hoarse.

“You took one of those inhuman toxin bullets for me. Apparently it is also very toxic for regular humans who are so brave and yet so freaking dumb.”

“Rather me getting put out of action for a few weeks than you being in the ground permanently. Fitzsimmons still haven’t got a cure yet.”

She lets out a quiet huff, taking the glass from you and placing it on your bedside table, her eyes not once raising any higher than your neck. Daisy plays with your fingertips, pressing kisses to each one of them over and over even when she can’t control her sniffles. You don’t say anything, knowing it’s better to let her come to you when she’s like this, but anyone on the team, especially you, getting injured is always a sore subject for her. 

“You’re all I have.” She says once you’re sitting upright, so quietly you almost miss it entirely with all the blood rushing in your ears. “I need you, I can’t lose you, I just can’t.”

“And you’re not going to.” You say softly, using your joined hands to tilt her head up so she can get a good look at your face now that you’re awake. “I’m here and I’m not leaving you, not now, not ever.”

Daisy doesn’t respond verbally, instead she gets out of the hard plastic chair you’re usually the resident of, and leans over the side of the bed, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead before peppering your entire face with kisses, the odd tear falling down her cheeks and landing on your face. When she pulls away, you smile at her, the smile weak but genuine, and she returns a watery grimace that has the makings of a smile.

“Come on, we won’t have long before Simmons is prodding and poking me, you know what she’s like. Tell me a story so I can go back to sleep, plausible deniability and all that jazz.”

Snorting at the sarcastic comment, she nods, ignoring your offer for her to join you on the bed but not letting go of your hands as she settles back down in her seat. Her story starts the same way most of hers do, with a once upon a time, and even as you drift off to sleep you can make the connections between the characters she introduces and the people you’ve come to think of as family. And just before you fall asleep, your eyes struggling to stay open, you decide to let her know the power of her soothing storytelling voice.

"Your voice is putting me to sleep."

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah.” You sigh. “Yeah it is. Love you Daise.”

“I love you too baby. Sweet dreams.”

[firefirefruit]

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Thirty-Two

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Thorned

Metal. Hatching out from soft, fragile skin, splintering out like daggers from a suit of armour.

Raya breathes loudly, silently staring at her own hands. Watching it metamorphosise. In real time.

Blood trickles across her skin from each birthing of steel, pain consuming her body in constant throbs of torture. She says nothing, does nothing, but stare at it happening in paralysed fear.

“Go get my kit, Bepo,” Law bites out, his knees messily grounding into the sand. He darkly takes in Raya’s condition, eyes flickering across her skin in thought, his head subtly tilting towards the other doctor. “Chopper, your drug – what does it consist of?”

Luffy, drawn to the commotion, widens his eyes in admiration as he stares at the silver peeking through skin. “Woah, what are those on your hands, Swords? Is that a new weapon?”

“No, it’s not,” Law spits out, shooting Luffy daggers with his eyes. He immediately looks down to the reindeer. “What did you use?”

“Atropine and Mink salve,” Chopper alertly responds to Law, as he, too, sits before Raya. His hoofs gently take in Raya’s palms, frowning intensely. “Did you take your dose today, Raya?”

Luffy frowns at his response, realisation slowly dawning in on him of the severity of the scene before him.

“Raya… are you okay?” Luffy asks – in a much quieter voice this time – as he stumbles his way towards her.

“Um,” Raya swallows, her voice trembling. Her eyes flicker to Zoro, who doesn’t even spare a glance in her direction. She notices his arms folding even tighter against his chest as he stands amidst the lapping waves. “Yeah, about half an hour ago.”

“Her tolerance,” Law mutters, making Chopper nod his head in agreement. A panicked Bepo comes running from a distance, Law’s medical tools clasped in his big paws as his eyes tear up in fear for his long lost friend’s sake.

The doctor breathes out a sigh of relief as he accepts the pack from his second mate, and with quick fingers, he begins to unfold his flap of tools. “We need to determine the condition as fast as we can. No known cause, no known cure – I’ll be honest, this isn’t good.”

“Fuck,” Raya grits her teeth, her hands slightly trembling in the fluff of Choppers soft hooves. Another metallic spike lodges its way out of her skin, almost as if reacting to her sudden anxiety. “Why don’t you keep on scaring your patient, Law? It’s doing wonders for her.”

What am I going to do? Raya thinks, watching the blood trickle heavily against her skin. Chopper presses firmly on the edge of the metallic wound, making sure to not lodge the shrapnel further into her skin. This isn’t fair. I didn’t ask for any of this.

Suddenly, a warm hand rests on Raya’s shoulder.

She looks up, surprised, only to meet Luffy’s eyes.

Almost as if he’s read her mind, a soft, comforting smile sets on his lips, a bright look that promises her safety.

“You’re okay, Swords.” He smiles. “You’ll be the silver hedgehog of our crew, if they keep on growing outta you.”

And out of the blue, a flying hand comes into contact with Luffy’s head, smacking him so hard his head dislodges from his neck.

“Shut up, Luffy!” Nami yells.

“And here we were, thinking you were gonna be supportive for once,” Usopp sullenly mumbles, unimpressed.

As Law continues his examination, Zoro finally decides to walk towards the commotion, his arms so tensely folded together, the contours of his muscles bulge out in restrained fear.

"How did this happen?" he snaps, his gaze piercing as he directs his question at Raya.

Raya bristles at his accusatory tone, her jaw tightening as she meets his gaze head-on.

"What, you think I did this to myself?"

"I didn't say that," he replies. “But you sure as hell weren’t taking care of your hands when you were sharpening that sword before.”

“I’ve been sharpening swords my entire life, Roronoa. Spare me the lecture.”

“These conditions aren’t supposed to be triggered from physical wounds, either,” Robin gently intervenes, offering a comforting smile to both Zoro and Raya. She lifts the glittering tome in front of them – the one that they stole from the Shaman Island – and flips through the pages with delicate fingers. “According to the tome.”

Nami looks up at her, hope desperately grasping at her eyes. “Did you learn anything else? Does it talk about Raya’s condition at all?”

Robin shakes her head; worry takes over in the crease of her brows. “It only addresses basic mythic changes like metamorphosis.”

“Right, yeah, because that’s totally basic knowledge. You know, metamorphosis, something everyone knows about,” Usopp mumbles, gaping at Robin.

Raya's hands tremble slightly as she watches Law and Chopper work, holding in a painful breath, while Luffy silently rests his chin on her shoulder for moral support.

Zoro's gaze remains fixed on Raya, his earlier irritation tempered by a growing sense of concern.

"So, what are we supposed to do now?"

Law sighs heavily, his expression grave as he finishes his assessment.

"We need more information," he declares, his tone clipped and business-like. "Without knowing the cause, I can't offer any definitive treatment."

Raya's heart sinks at his words, the weight of her situation pressing down on her shoulders like a leaden blanket.

"But where do we even start?" she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nami's eyes flash with realisation as she begins to mumble in a trance. "The guy I spoke to before," she softly mumbles. “The one who knows where Suki is. He knows something.”

Suki?

Raya’s heart stops, her whole body turning cold from hearing those words, before a whole flurry of metal shards pierce through her skin synchronously, making her scream out in bone-chilling pain.

“Raya!” Sanji shouts. He stares at the metal that now spreads to her arms like an uncontainable plague. He then glares at the Surgeon of Death, before furiously barking out, “Law, do something, for fuck’s sake!”

“Why don’t you stop yapping like a dog and let me do my job?” Law barks back, his narrowed in menacing slits.

But Raya doesn’t seem to be listening to them – instead, she continues to stare at Nami, her face growing paler by the moment. Blood drips onto her clothes like a monotonous metronome, her heart faintly beating in her chest, before she opens her mouth to speak.

“You know where Suki is?”

Nami looks at her worriedly, nodding softly. “Very vaguely — I mean, a potential spot on the map. I was going to tell you before, but then… I saw your hands…” her voice breaks, complete devastation taking over her composure. “We need to take you to that man, Raya. Gods save me, I’m going to find you a cure. And he might be the one who has it.”

Raya's breaths come in short, ragged gasps as she struggles to contain the agony coursing through her body. Each movement feels like a fresh onslaught of pain, the metallic protrusions from her skin digging deeper with every passing second.

No! Fuck the treatment! Fuck the concern over me! It’s Suki we need to save! She screams in her head. I’d rather die than prolong his torture further.

“No, Swords.” Luffy stares hard-eyed at Raya, almost terrifying in his assertive gaze. He moves his chin from her shoulder, looking at her face-to-face. “I’m not letting that happen.”

Raya gapes at him whilst still gasping from her pain. “I-I didn’t say anything, Luffy.”

He cocks his head at her. “But I heard your voice?”

Gods, he needs treatment more than I do.

His eyes flash up and grins in response. “See? That’s definitely you!”

“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” Zoro mutters, glaring between the swordsmith and his captain.

“You didn’t hear her?” Luffy frowns at him.

“Never mind that,” Raya forces out through clenched teeth, the pain hitting the very marrow of her bones. Another set of metallic teeth jut out from her arms, growing out like ruthless talons. “My old man is my top priority. Not my fucking arms. I swear to you, I’ll refuse any sort of medical treatment if I have to prove my point.”

Zoro scoffs out loud, almost letting his fury show through his calm composure.

“Yeah, no. That’s not happening,” he spits out, his jaw grinding together so hard Chopper begins to worry for his teeth.

Raya glares up at him, betrayal consuming her whole. If he’s so haunted by his own actions, then why’s he butting in?

“I thought we had an understanding, Roronoa,” she gasps out.

“No.” His nostrils flare, his face almost seeming drunk with anger. “Not at your expense, Tenguyama.”

Raya's breath hitches in her throat, a mix of pain and frustration swirling within her as she locks eyes with Zoro.

Zoro's expression hardens; he squares his shoulders, refusing to back down.

“Is this really what you think Suki wants? You, to needlessly die, for his sake?" he growls. “You wouldn’t be saving his life, no. You’d doom him to live a life as a broken man.”

Beat.

And Raya screams out in pure, uncontrolled fury, swiping her palms away from both doctors. She screams out so furiously, the tears that spill from her eyes are thick with fire.

She bellows into the air, so fiercely, so wildly, that the winds around her grow in such tumultuous speeds, swirling out so heavily around everyone, that Luffy’s hat almost disappears into its swallowing mouth.

“Who are you, to tell me that?” she yells out loud. And almost majestically, her feet raise from the sand.

Her eyes glow with whites and oranges as she floats within her own tempest. “You are insufferable.”

“Get down! Right now!” Law bellows at everyone, pulling himself and Bepo down to the sand. “She’s possessed!”

“Raya!” Nami screams as she scrambles for her hovering body, but before she gets anywhere near Raya, Luffy roughly tugs at her away in his arms.

“What the fuck?” Usopp screams, slamming his body to the ground with Chopper underneath his harm.

Raya does not know where she or who she is. She is simply elemental. She is both human and non-human.

And, as she rises higher and higher into the sky, her eyes blazing in a distant trance, the blood in drains from her faster and faster. She howls like the winds amongst her, cries like the way her own metal stabs at her, and all the same, she is confined to a frail human body that offers many limitations and very little freedom.

One of the limitations being blood.

Raya then collapses to the floor, no pupils found in the midst of the whiteness of her eyes.

Beat.

Zoro gathers her up in his arms, the metal from her body burrowing deeply into his own skin. He freezes in his spot for a second, allowing the metal to sink its teeth all the way into his body, allowing Raya’s complete pain to transfer into him.

And with no reaction – with no expression on his stern face, and no sound made from his clamped down mouth, he slowly moves, the shrapnels of her steel now lodged deeply in his own bloodstream.

And without even a look to the others, he walks back to the ship, with the thorned girl laying stricken in his bleeding arms.

[frecklesandfanfics]

One thing that really pisses me off, as a mentally ill person, is the toxic positivity movement. No, God, prayer, nature, exercise, drinking water, and most certainly not “just deciding to be happy” are not going to cure my bipolar disorder. Touching grass, going for a walk, or carrying a bottled water around are not going to make my manic or depressive episodes end. Listening to cheerful music or going to Bible studies will not combat my severe mood swings and anxiety. Those things might each do their own part, but they are not the answer, they are not enough.

You know what does help my bipolar disorder? Seeing a psychiatrist and therapist regularly and taking my damn medication. Period. It doesn’t matter if I do all of those other things or seventy thousand other suggestions I’ve received over the years since my diagnosis. The only thing that consistently works is treatment and medication. That’s it. 

I resent the idea that mentally ill people are just so weak that they cannot make themselves happy. I resent, “you’d feel so much better if you drank water/exercised every day/joined a church community.” I resent hearing songs about how you only need to make the decision to be happy or seeing tv shows where people have “a breakthrough” and there’s a happy little montage of them cleaning their house and going to bed early and going for jogs and putting on their makeup and brushing their hair or whatever and then everything’s perfect forever. It doesn’t represent reality at all and what’s worse is that it makes me despondent to not have enough self control to force myself to be happy, or to feel like I’m not normal or alone in my experience.

I want to say to anyone reading that you’re not alone. You’re not weird. What really works for long-term mental health care is treatment. Period. And then,  yeah, you’ll finally feel good enough to push yourself a little, to make yourself go for a walk, have the energy to make new friends and pursue new interests. Life can hold so much more interest, all around, when you are caring for yourself and have a treatment team, and that doesn’t make you weak or strange. 

So, in short, shut the fuck up, media and interfering grandmothers and well-meaning mothers. It isn’t as easy as “deciding” when you’re mentally ill. 

[tomurasprincess]

(Sorry if this is too far or too gross) i can’t get the thought of Doctor!Hawks out of my head. Like just imagine him slipping you some fucked up “meds” that are just making you sick so you keep coming back to him and in your sickly state he decides to take advantage of you hehe

☆彡 Warnings: Dubcon, abuse of power, medical malpractice, drugging, light aphrodisiacs, fingering, squirting, yandere

☆彡 Note: Doctor Hawks is in the house and he has the perfect cure for you 😂

“I’ve been doing everything you said, taking all the medicine. But I haven’t been feeling any better,” you tell the doctor as you sit on the exam table. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” You’re shivering almost uncontrollably, sweat dripping down your face from a fever. Your whole body is sore and tender, and despite everything, there’s an insistent throb between your legs that you’re trying to ignore.

“Hmm, let me just take a look then.” Dr. Takami says as he pushes you down onto the table, lifting your legs gently into stirrups as he spreads them. You’re expecting him to take your temperature or maybe use the stethoscope to listen to your heart.

Anything but him reaching under your gown and cupping you intimately between your legs. Your hips buck involuntarily as a small gasp leaves your throat.

“Just a bet sensitive, are we?” His voice is professional, but his actions are anything but. 

“What - what are you doing?” 

“I’m examining you, of course. I have to make sure you’re healthy.” He slips two fingers inside of you as he finishes his sentence, and you whine at the stretch.

“I - but I’m not -”

“Not what? You’re so warm down here, so wet - I think there must be something wrong. You shouldn’t be getting wet from being sick, now should you?”

His logic is wrong, all wrong, but the fever raging through your system doesn’t let you reason it out. He’s the doctor, isn’t he? Surely he wouldn’t take advantage of you like this.

He curls his fingers up, grazing a spot inside of you that has your hips bucking and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Shit, that - please stop that.”

“Well your reactions seem normal,” he muses as he grinds against that same spot. “Does it feel good?”

“Y-y-yeah, but - “

“Then I’ll continue.”

He works his fingers in and out of you, reaching up with his other hand to press down against your lower stomach as he curls his fingers up. The feeling has you tightening around his fingers as you feel hot liquid gush out of you, whines and whimpers leaving your throat as you cum hard. He finger fucks you through it, overstimulating you and forcing you through another orgasm before you’ve even come down from the first one.

“Fuck, too sensitive, too - please stop, it’s too much - “ you babble mindlessly as you’re pushed over your peak again, more liquid squirting out of you and soaking the exam table underneath you.

He withdraws his fingers making a humming noise as he examines them. He leans down to watch your pussy clenching around nothing, letting out a soft groan at the sight.

“I think you need more medicine,” he tells you, and you nod automatically. He reaches over into his desk drawer, pulling out a pill bottle and handing it to you. “Here. Take this three times a day for a week.”

“But - “

“You’re not going to be a difficult patient, are you? Only children complain about taking their medicine” he says sternly, and you glance to the side in embarrassment. 

“Alright,” you say quietly, not able to look him in the eyes.

“Good girl,” he says as he pats your head like a dog. “I’ll see you in a week.”

[tu-sugar-mami]

It has always been you #2

You can read the first part here

Your wake up with a gasp, and with a lot of effort try to prop up on your elbow only to fall back on your side, grunting. Trying to stir your memories you clench your eyes shut.

The blood, the petals and tears. The feeling of being burned from the inside and the pain you felt in your throat as the thorns made their way out. All of it comes crashing to you in a second, making you dizzy.

A familiar voice catches your attention.

“You’re awake. Good. How are you feeling?” You look up to find your friend leaning on the doorframe holding a glass of water with a soft smile.

Your friend’s tranquil expression doesn’t show it, but they’re relieved. They hadn’t expected you to slump out of a portal. It's not that you appeared out of nowhere, since you made a habit of doing it every once in a while, but the fact that you opened a breach instead of snapping into existence that concerned them. As soon as your unconscious body fell on the floor with a hard thud your friend (whose name you don't know despite knowing each other from years but call Chips in honor of their love for said snack) was by your side checking on you.

Chips was worried sick, but didn't hesitate as they took you to the lab. As if luck would have it, your friend is a very talented healer and after many tortuous hours of medical practice (and a little bit of their own powers) they managed to stabilize you.

“I feel awful…” You tug the blanket up to your neck. Chips giggles.

“Well yeah, you had it bad, man. You’ve been out cold for three days.” Chips looks at you for a second longer before offering you the glass of water while helping you sit up before sitting themselves beside you on the bed. Their expression changes to a serious one while deciding if it’d be prudent ask. “What happened…?”

Your gaze is locked on the glass of water in your hands. You think back to the events and come to one conclusion. With a defeated sigh you respond. “I don’t know. One second i was on my way to Lady Beneviento’s workshop to deliver her afternoon tea and the next one i was on the floor coughing—” you sigh and rub the bridge of your nose with your fingers. “Coughing blood…”

“And flowers.” Chips added.

“And flowers…” You confirmed. “How do you know? I arrived here unconscious.”

“I did my homework, gremlin.” Chips couldn’t hold your gaze and they looked away. “Your lungs are filled with those.”

“My lungs?! How is that even possible?”

Chips stands and retrieves a book from the drawer on the bedside table. “I did some research as to what could possibly be the cause for such, uh… unique… condition. I found something in one of the books at the old library but i think you might want to read this for yourself…”

You’ve had a lot of questions, but nothing could have prepared you for the answers.

You can’t sleep, not even when night arises again. The contents of the book swirling in your mind like a cruel reminder.

‘Hanahaki Disease’ it read, ‘the victim of this infection is known to have flowers growing in their lungs leading to them coughing up flower petals when they suffer from strong one-sided love. There isn’t a cure to this disease other than to have their love reciprocated or by having surgical intervention, though this last option will cause the victim to lose all capacity to love again. If not treated, this disease will end up with the life of the victim.’

Chips makes a point of telling you that your state is grave and you need to make a decision before it’s too late. You don’t have much time, after all.

‘Coughing flowers means that my love is not requited’ is the thought that loops in your mind over and over again while you lie restlessly on the bed. Donna doesn't love you but you can't stop yourself from loving her.

You remember Donna’s shy smile. You remember her sweet voice. You remember her hesitant but lingering touch whenever your hands bumped, by accident of course.

Angie's words hurt you, because you learned she's connected with the Lady's thoughts, she's a part of her. It hurt you because your love was clearly, shatteringly not reciprocated. It stung because you fell for someone with absolutely no interest in you, much less the same way you were interested in her.

You had tried to push Lady Beneviento away in hopes that you could forget about those strong feelings, and it didn’t matter how much it pained you, you kept going. You convinced yourself that it was for the better, as Donna wouldn’t feel uncomfortable with your affections and you wouldn’t find yourself imagining impossible things. You made sure to avoid her at all cost and only address her if absolutely necessary. Keeping your mind distracted was an everyday thing, but you failed to realize just how much your behavior affected the Lady.

It was a few days before ‘the flower incident’ that you had decided it was time for your vacations to be over, but alas, things never go according to plan and now you’re laying on your friend’s bed while recovering from your poor decisions.

It’s Friday when you finally call Chips and discuss the next step in your progressive disease.

Meanwhile, back at the Beneviento Estate the Lady of the house is having her own turmoil of emotions. After the events where you made a full display of your particular ability, she doesn’t know what to think. First of all, you had supernatural powers? And not only that, but to open time-space breaches! That meant you could have left at any time you pleased without her being able to prevent it and yet you decided to stay with her all that time. Her heart aches, she feels relieved that you thought she was worth staying,  but on the other hand she is hurt that you hadn’t trust her enough to reveal your secret… but then again,  she didn’t tell you hers until fairly recently. And then you left her behind without any explanation! Not that she needed one but it would have been nice to get a chance to properly talk with you like she intended.

Still, Donna is worried about you. She’s waited for a long time now and still no sign of your presence. She waited for hours after you disappeared but you didn’t return that day. Or the next. You didn’t show up even after a month and a half had already passed by and Donna begun to think that you would never return and that your time together was finally over.

Until one day where the Lady is reading your favorite book (or more like the highlights you marked on the paper, remembering the eagerness in your voice whenever you read out loud to her a new line that you liked) when the sound of someone knocking on the door pulls her out of her pensive state.

As the door opens she finds, with disbelief in her eyes, that you stand on the other side, unable to meet her gaze.

Donna’s sight becomes blurry with tears and she can’t help but to tackle you in a tight embrace, holding you impossibly close while burying her face in the crook of your neck and inhaling your familiar scent after it being denied to her for so long.

“You’re back…”She says breathlessly and you can feel her hot tears wetting your shirt, her hands clutching the fabric of your clothes for dear life. A lot of questions run through her mind but right now she just wants to savor the feeling of your body in her arms again. There will be time for answers later.

“Lady Beneviento, please forgive me for leaving like that…” You don’t hug the Lady back but do let her hang off you until she’s sure you won’t suddenly disappear again.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Donna says. “You don’t know how much i’ve missed you.”

“I’m back and ready to continue with my duties. If you’ll excuse me…” You step back from her hug before making a beeline for the kitchen without looking back, leaving a very confused Lady behind to look at your retreating back.

Donna’s eyes widen as she notices the almost imperceptible specks of blood marring the back of your shirt and she swears that under that oversized shirt you’re wearing are bandages covering you…

[ibis-gt]

ok ok i got the writing bug again. cam drives luther to the hospital to figure out why he's got Shrinks When Gay Disorder. 2k words.

~~~

“Well, Mr. Algers, from what I can tell you’ve got a very rare, very difficult autoimmune disease. We call it Gulliver’s Hanahaki.”

Luther sits glumly on the examining table, clad in a paper gown. He resists the urge to pick at the edges of it, instead keeping a tight grip on the table. Doctor’s offices always make him fidgety.

“Basically,” Dr. Townsend continues, “when your body encounters a specific form of stress, it will react in an attempt to defend itself, resulting in the reduction of size you’ve been experiencing.”

“So is there… any kind of cure?” Luther asks.

“Well, no. It’s not the kind of disease you cure.”

“Treatment of any kind? Pills I can take, shots, anything to stop it?” An edge of desperation creeps into his voice, the paper covering the table crinkling as his fingers dug into it.

“Nothing I can give you, I’m sorry to say,” Dr. Townsend sighs. “Unfortunately, its rarity means that it’s difficult to study. Any medication is still in the early trial stages and it wouldn’t be ethical for me to prescribe. There are two forms of preventative measures you can take to avoid further episodes, however.”

Luther straightens up from his slump. Thank god, something to get this nightmare to finally end!

“The first is very effective. Since the episodes are triggered by attraction to another individual and the anxiety resulting from that attraction, if you are able to avoid interactions with that individual altogether, no further anxiety will be triggered.”

Luther deflates, shoulders sagging. “That won’t work,” he mumbles. “We live in the same building.”

Dr. Townsend nods sympathetically. “I thought it might be something like that,” he sighs. “Your other option is to confess.”

Luther reels back like he’s been slapped. “Confess?”

“Yes. These episodes are made worse by bottling up your attraction or attempting to deny it. This causes the stress to compound and become more intense. If you admit your feelings to the individual you’re attracted to, then you will remove some of that stress and your episodes will be less frequent and less severe.”

“But- but that would only stress me out more!” Luther says, throwing his arms out to the sides. “I mean, I mean what if he says no? What if he says yes? What if he -”

Dr. Townsend puts a hand on Luther’s shoulder, cutting him off. His hand is… very large. Too large. Dr. Townsend and Luther are about the same height, after all, but his hand barely fits on Luther’s shoulder. Luther realizes suddenly that he’d been shrinking, and takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I see your point. I just gotta tell him how I feel. Easy peasy.”

“Hm.” the doctor says. He lets his hand drop and a tinge of sympathy colors his serious expression. “Good luck, Luther. This is a very difficult disease to live with, even once you’ve mitigated your stress as much as possible. If there’s anything else I can do to support you, please let me know. Otherwise, our consultation is at an end for today. I’ll start reaching out and seeing what options there are for you - maybe a support group would help?”

“Thank you, doctor. That would be nice, actually. Um. Quick question - how… small can I get? Could I just… entirely disappear?”

Dr. Townsend lets out a huge sigh. “Well… on record, the smallest a person with Gulliver’s Hanahaki has been reliably measured at is about one and a quarter inch. There are rumors of people getting down to five centimeters, but frankly, that’s just ridiculous.”

Luther stares at the doctor for a long moment. “Right. Ridiculous.”

~~~

When he gets out to the waiting room, Luther is surprised to see Cam sitting there.

“I thought you left? You didn’t have to stick around.”

“Figured you might need a ride back. Wouldn’t want you shrinking on the way over.” Cam stands and stretches, rolling his neck. “Ugh. Little stiff,” he mutters.

Luther tries to get his racing heart back under control. He’s a little shorter than usual, and having Cam loom over him like this… it’s not doing him any favors in the height department. But he manages to keep a handle on himself as they walk out to the parking lot. Cam’s quiet for a bit, but once the car starts up, the questions begin.

“So, what’d the doctor say?” Cam asks, glancing over his shoulder as he backs out of the parking spot. A little ball of panic starts to form in Luther’s gut. Oh, nothing much, just that I’m going to shrink every time I’m awkward around my crush. Which is you, by the way.

“Uh, it’s… an autoimmune disorder,” Luther mumbles. “Rare one. They don’t know a lot about it yet.”

“Okay, makes sense,” Cam says. Luckily his eyes are on the road, so he doesn’t notice Luther losing an inch. “What’s it called?”

“G - “ Luther starts, then catches himself. What if Cam looks it up later and figures it out? He shrinks a little bit more and swallows, trying to clear his throat. “I… the name was… it was very long and I didn’t really, uh, catch it.”

Cam chuckles quietly. The sound reverberates around the inside of Luther’s skull. It’s so musical and sweet. He clutches the seatbelt and shrinks some more.

“Yeah, some of them have weird names. What kinda treatment are you lookin’ at?”

“Uh… this was just like, a consultation, to identify it? So we’re gonna do treatment next time.” Luther doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears. Cam glances sideways at him and his heart skips a beat.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Cam says, looking the other way as he makes a turn. “It’s medical stuff, it’s personal. I’m sorry for prying.”

“No, no, it’s not that! It’s… just a lot to take in, and I’m still - there’s a couple things it could be actually and they don’t know for sure so they took blood samples, and there’s tests that are gonna come back later, and um, uh…” Luther trails off. He’s shrunk so much now that the seat belt presses uncomfortably across his chest and neck, and the tension on it makes it difficult to adjust. He’d been staring out the windshield as he rambled, but now he’s too short to see much more than the sky. He feels Cam pull the car over and turn off the engine. Luther slowly turns to his left and looks up at Cam, who stares down at him in turn. Luther, maybe two feet high now, offers a shaky smile.

“There’s, um. No cure. Or treatment,” he says in a soft, wavering voice. “I just… live like this now.”

Cam tilts his head to one side like he’s trying to decide on something. He shifts in his seat, turns his body a little to face Luther, and props up one arm on the headrest. Then he sighs.

“You’re too short to sit in the front now,” he says. He glances to the backseat. Luther follows his gaze and stares in horror at the car seat sitting neatly behind the driver’s side.

“Oh, no,” Luther whispers. He raises his voice as Cam shifts again and undoes his seat belt. “No, no, no, no, I am not going in that! Cam!” But it’s too late. Cam opens the car door and gets out, then shuts it behind him. Luther slams down on the release button for his own seat belt with both hands, keeping his eyes on Cam through the windshield as he walks around the front of the car. The belt retracts with such force that it knocks him sideways, and it takes him a moment to right himself and get his bearings again. Before he can try to run or hide, the door opens, and Cam reaches in for him.

“No, please, come on,” Luther pleads. He backs up as far as he can, but Cam easily gets his hand around Luther’s middle and lifts him up. “I’m an adult, a full grown man, I can’t go in a baby seat! Please, Cam, don’t put me in that thing, why do you even have it? It’s so humiliating, you can’t do this!”

“Number one,” Cam says, opening the back door. “I can put you in it, I have plenty of practice wrangling my niece in there.” He sets Luther down and gets to work on the straps, easily subduing Luther’s halfhearted attempts to squirm free. “Number two, this is about traffic laws. If I’m driving around with someone under four feet in my front seat, I’m gonna get pulled over, and if you wanna explain to the officer that you’re a full grown adult and pay the ticket, be my guest. And number three,” he says, clicking the last buckle into place, “this is about your safety. We get in an accident, that seat belt up front is gonna do you more harm than good.” He straightens up again and shuts the door. Luther puts his head in his hands, trying not to break down in tears. That would only make it worse. The words ‘this is about your safety’ echo around his head in his father’s voice. He hears the driver’s side door open and close, hears Cam settle himself in, and manages to speak up.

“Just… please don’t laugh. Or take pictures, or anything.” He risks a glance between his fingers. Cam is looking at him in the rearview mirror, no amusement or pity visible in his eyes.

“I won’t.” The sincerity in his voice takes Luther by surprise. “This isn’t funny. This is really serious, and I’m sorry I had to do that.” He turns the key in the ignition and pulls the car back onto the road. “We’re nearly home. You won’t have to be there for long.”

Luther stares miserably out the window at the sky above. True to Cam’s word, it’s only another ten minutes before they’re pulling into the apartment complex’s lot. As soon as the car’s turned off, Luther starts pulling at the straps, trying to figure out how to get himself free. Cam comes around to his side again and opens the door.

“I got it, I got it,” Luther assures him. “It’s just this one, right? No… wait, this one? Or is it… um…”

“Let me,” Cam says softly. He reaches in and has the whole contraption undone in an instant. Then, to Luther’s surprise, Cam scoops him up and holds him against his chest like he’s a toddler. Luther’s arms hang over Cam’s shoulder as he blinks in shock. Cam whistles as he approaches the door to their building, fishing his keys out of his pocket. He opens the door one-handed and starts the climb up the stairs to their floor. Luther should say something, this is horribly demeaning, but… it’s also undeniably very nice. He feels supported and safe, and he’s so close to Cam but the usual stab of anxiety is totally absent. He could almost drift off like this.

Cam reaches his door and unlocks it, then stops suddenly and looks at Luther.

“Oh! Shit! I’m so sorry, it was kind of like muscle memory, I guess? God, I’m sorry.” He lowers Luther to the floor and looks away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s… that’s okay. The stairs would’ve sucked to climb right now anyway.” Luther should leave, Cam’s still got the door open for him, but… “Do you mind if I stay for a bit? Just until I get a little bigger? Um, I can’t really reach my door handle right now, so…”

Cam smiles, and that familiar pang of anxiety flutters up inside Luther again. “Yeah, you can hang out here. You’re always welcome.” He turns and trudges towards the kitchen, his footsteps shaking the floor as he passes Luther. “It’s pot roast tonight, anyway. Even if you get your height back in the next five minutes, I’d insist you stay for dinner.”

Luther thinks about the doctor’s advice. Confess your feelings, and all of this gets easier. But when he goes to open his mouth, he loses another three inches all in one go. Luther digs his nails into his palms and sets his jaw. Not just yet, then. But soon. Eventually.

One of these days.