#she is in DANGER and i'm UNWELL

[chipthekeeper]

it's good that i pretty much have a fully realized alternate story ready to go in case tony gilroy decides to kill my gals off because folks, i'm getting increasingly worried that tony gilroy is going to decide to kill my gals off

[umbracirrus]

Without even realising it until now, I seem to have adapted a headcanon that on top of Proventus being overly cautious/worrying, it intensifies greatly when it comes to matters such as sickness and disease. To the 'I will be at the other side of the room/elsewhere/not near you until I am certain that I am not at risk' level.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x slytherin!fem!reader

Summary: When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you.

Genre: Fluff, hurt and comfort <3

Warning: swearing, mentions of being drugged/drunk, violence, mentions of blood, protective!James

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

When James sees you walk into the classroom with an unusually cheery smile, he can't look away.

"Sirius," he pauses and leans in closer to his friend, "does she look unwell to you?" James whispers, clearly concerned for you. Sirius lets his chin rest on his palms as he looks over at you nonchalantly.

You almost trip on your shoe-laces as you make your way to your desk and you laugh a little too loudly, but only James seems to notice that particular detail.

"Y/l/n? She seems quite happy to me," Sirius's smirk is heard in his voice but James doesn't look amused. 

"No, something's wrong. She's usually quiet and she," he doesn't finish his sentence when he sees your friends in the corner of the classroom.

Some of them look as concerned as he is while most hide smiles and snickers behind their hands as they look at you. James's eyes bounce back to you and his frown deepens. Something is wrong. Instantly, he's on his feet.

"Prongs!?" Sirius sounds surprised but it's no use trying to stop him because James is already on his way to you.

Just as you raise your arm to run a hand in your – already annoyed – desk partner's hair, James quickly swoops in and catches your wrist. You pause and when you turn your head to look at him, your smile widens. 

"Potter!" you slur.

James can be an idiot sometimes, but he does know you're not drunk. He's never seen you drink. You look dizzy and he comes to the conclusion you must be under the influence of some kind of spell. He looks you over and sees the nasty cut on your knee. Anger bubbles in his stomach as he remembers how your friends somehow found this all incredibly funny. 

You tilt your head at him slightly and say, "You have pretty eyes, did you know that?" you smile a smile James usually loves and was never directed at him before, but by now the entire classroom has their eyes on you and, because he knows you would hate all this unnecessary attention, James helps you stand.

You let out a breathy giggle when his hands find your waist and hold you steady.  

"What are you doing?" a shrill voice asks from behind him and James clenches his jaw. He turns around. It's one of your friends. She's also in Slytherin and as hard as he tries, James can't remember her name.

"Helping your friend," he says blankly, "She seems a little out of it, doesn't she?"

"She's fine," your friend rolls her and tucks her dark hair behind her ear. "Aren't you, Y/n?" she asks you with a faint smirk.

Your body sways and James's arms move from your waist and swoops around you to hold under your armpits. "I'm okay — y-yeah, I'm okay. I feel better than fine," You mutter, eyelids fluttering slightly as you giggle at his touch.

James isn't at all convinced you're okay. 

Your friend's cruel smirk and the mystery of how you've bruised your knee leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"She's bleeding," he states as calmly as he can. 

"She's just clumsy." 

"She's obviously been hexed or something," James narrows his eyes.

Your friend laughs at his accusatory tone. "What? And you think I did it?"

"Yeah, actually, I do."

At this point, it's obvious you aren't paying attention to their argument as you start to play with James's collar. His cheeks flush pink as your hair skims his chin and the smell of your shampoo fills the air.

"Well if you won't tell me what happened to her, then I'll find out myself," he says and his hand moves to hold yours. "Come on," he whispers sweetly and you let him lead you out of the classroom.

James is extremely careful with you. He makes sure you don't trip in the hallway, or run into any doors and walls, and more importantly he stays with you when the nurse comes to make sure you're okay.

He leans over the hospital bed as his hand hover over your knee as he asks, "What's happened to her?" 

"Veritaserum," the nurse says as she presses her palm on your forehead. 

"The truth serum?" James is confused. "Doesn't that make someone tell the truth? Why would it make her act so," he turns his head to look at you and conflicting emotions creates what feels like an empty pit in his stomach. You look so beautiful with your eyes blown wide as you glance around the room. "So ditzy?" he finishes in an endeared whisper.

"It isn't uncommon as everyone can have different reactions," The nurse explains as she gently inspects your knee, "I think whoever made this potion must not be particularly skilled."

James clenches his fist around his cloak and tries to remind himself that you probably wouldn't want him to beat up your so-called-friends.

"What's happening to me?" your voice comes out strained as you try and focus on their conversation as you catch on to their confused faces. 

"Nothing, honey, you're fine. Your friend was worried and he," 

You interrupt her, "James Potter? Oh, he isn't my friend." You look up at James and his smile disappears. He's embarrassed as he searches your face for any indication that you're joking but clearly you aren't because you ask him. "Potter, do you even know my name?" You sound serious.

James hesitates to answer, "Of course I know your name, Y/n," he finally admits.

He doesn't expect your eyes to light up but they do and you turn to the nurse, "He does know my name," you whisper with a smile.

James's heart swells at how happy you seem and he smirks a little. Amused, the nurse lets you continue, "You'know," you lean in closer and mutter just loud enough for James to hear without you knowing, "I really like him."

Surprised, his heart jumps and the nurse panics as he quickly shuts you up. "Alright honey, let's clean up this nasty little wound and then wait for the potion to pass, ok?" you nod and focus on her as she waves her wand across your knee and the cut disappears. 

Once she's done, the nurse turns to James and says, "I know you must be curious, Potter, but I think Y/l/n should be alone while she recovers," the nurse turns to you again and looks at you sympathetically.

"He can stay!" you insist, "I want him to stay."

James looks into your eyes and he wonders how he can even think of disappointing you.

But, when he looks at the nurse again his heart sinks. He can't stay, he knows he can't. It would be unfair. You deserve to keep your secrets — all those feelings you wouldn't share with him normally — hidden away in your pretty little head. 

James knows he can't take those away from you so he nods, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and sends you a lopsided smile. "I'll see you around, mmh?" 

He leaves before he can focus on the way you called his name because if he does, he knows he'd feel compelled to rush back in and stay by your side. On his way back to the classroom, he can't help but smile as he remembers your words. Only, his smile disappears the moment he hears your friends in the hallway. 

James stops in front of them and they do the same. The girl from earlier crosses her arms. "What's your issue, Potter?" she snarls, "Where's Y/n?"

James refuses to answer her question. "You gave her the Veritaserum, didn't you?" he accuses and some of your friend's squirm guiltily. The dark-haired girl just smirks.

"So what if we did? She isn't dying, is she? It was funny," she turns to your other friends with a grin and they nod meekly. "You should have seen her stumbling around, she wasn't even fazed when she fell and scraped her knee on the cobblestones. It was hilarious," she continues.

James's face burns from the points of his ears to his cheeks. "Hilarious?!" he repeats, his voice stern, "What kind of friends find it funny when their friend hurts themselves? She didn't know about the Veritaserum, did she?" 

The girl shakes her head but one of your other friends interrupts. He's a tall, lanky Slytherin with icy blue eyes and vibrant auburn hair.

"Of course she didn't know, Potter. It wouldn't be as fun if she did. I would think you would understand," he admits with a grin.

James's hands shake as he stares at your friend rambling. The boy only chuckles and turns to his friends, amused, as he taunts, "Slipped the potion in her drink myself this morning."

He doesn't finish his sentence as James punches him. He stumbles back into the girls, cupping his hands around his nose, as they shriek in surprise. James shakes his hand out a little and narrows his eyes. "You don't spike someone's drink, asshole. And don't fucking insinuate I would ever do something like that to anyone!"

"What the fuck? Why do you even care?" The boy hisses as one girl holds his shoulder and tends to him. "You're crazy." 

And sure, maybe James was crazy but he won't tolerate someone hurting you. 

Ever. 

* * *

"James, just give the poor girl some space," Remus sighs as he tries to concentrate on his essay. "She's gone through enough these last few days. Haven't you heard the rumors going around? They're brutal."

James resists the scream that bubbles in his throat. "I know. I know. I just want to be there for her," he whines and Sirius wraps his arm around his shoulder.

"You'll just make things worse," Sirius says, "Last rumor I heard is that she faked it all for your attention." 

James clenches his jaw. "How would I make this worse? It's all so fucking cruel, Pads. She's all alone," his heart has been slowly breaking whenever he thinks of you sobbing in your dorm or sitting alone during your classes and meals. 

He shuts his eyes a moment and then sits up abruptly and says, "I know what to do."

Remus looks up and with a worried expression, his eyes widen. "Prongs," he starts but James is already standing. "Sirius! Don't let him leave!" Remus insists but it's too late because their friend is already out the Common Room door. 

When James enters the Great Hall, he pauses and searches for you. He sees you sitting alone and he becomes so angry he can't think normally.

He storms up to the Slytherin table and jumps on top of it. Some cutlery and food falls to the floor and students turn their heads. James just clears his throat, making a show as he stumbles on his feet. 

If everyone wants to gossip about something, they can gossip about this. 

With a grin, he spreads his arms and shouts, "Can I have everyone's attention?" The Great Hall turns silent and James struts down the table until he's much closer to you. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hold your breath.

Remus and Sirius run into the Great Hall, calling James's name but it's too late because James is now standing in front of you as he holds out his hand. "Y/n, will you go out with me?" He asks, his voice loud and calm.

Whispers break out as your heart thumps in your chest. You look into James's eyes, searching them and when you reluctantly take his hand he nods a little and pulls you up onto the table with him. 

Quickly, he pulls you closer and then whispers in your ear, "Say no. Trust me." 

Your frown deepens but the words leave you without thinking, "No?" 

James smirks and just subtle enough for no one to see, he kisses your cheek and pulls you away from him. Dramatically, he stumbles backwards and covers his heart. "Ow, you're killing me here, love. What will I do without you?"

If you didn't know he had just asked you to reject him, you would think he sounds genuinely hurt. As he stumbles, he trips on someone's glass and with a loud crash, he falls to the ground.

Students gasp loudly and so do you as you cover your mouth with your hands and rush to the edge of the table and peer down at him. When you see him sitting on the ground he suddenly blows a kiss up to you, a small paper bird flutters up to you and then turns into rose petals.

Your eyes widen and you can't help but laugh when James continues to make a scene and the petals fall in your hair. "You're breaking my heart, darling. Criminal," James whispers and winks dramatically. 

"James Potter, detention. Now," McGonagall's voice booms and when James sees you hide a smile behind your hand, he smiles too.

A while later, as James sweeps up McGonagall's classroom floor, all he can think of is your happy smile.

"James?" Your voice interrupts his memory and he jumps a little, turning towards the door. You stand in the doorway, a flustered look on your face as you hesitate to come inside. James drops the broom and rushes over to you. 

His knuckles hover over your cheek as he says, "Y/n, are you okay?"

Your eyes widen and you touch his hand. Gently, you pull it down to his side again as you whisper and ask, "What was that all about?"

James searches your face for anger. "I wanted to take the embarrassment off of you. You don't deserve anything that's been happening to you, love. None of it is your fault."

You look at him more seriously. "Yeah, it's been a little hard but I can handle the teasing. You shouldn't have done that," you say and James's heart clenches in his chest. 

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Y/n. I just wanted,"

You interrupt him, "No. I mean you shouldn't have asked me to say no," you pause and look up at him, "unless, you don't actually want to go out with me. But, I know you know how I feel about you and I,"

Your sentence dies and you don't know what else to say. 

James's expression softens. You look up at him, almost pleading with him, "Please don't make me repeat what I said in the Hospital Wing. It's so embarrassing, and I know you heard me. I wasn't exactly quiet."

James smirks. "When you said you like me?" he holds up his finger and pretends to ponder, "No I'm sorry, you really like me," his smile widens as he looks at you. You feel warmth in your cheeks and look away.

"Yeah, that."

"Well, I really like you too."

Your eyes widen and you look up at him. James uses his thumb to lift your chin. You realize how close your body is to his and your breath hitches in your throat. James's hand moves to your cheek, caressing it softly as you whisper, "You do?"

James lets out a breathy chuckle. "Of course I do. You're beautiful, kind, incredibly smart it's annoying," his eyes are full of admiration, "What's there not to like, darlin'?"

You frown, glancing quickly at the emblem stitched onto my robes and then you look at him again. "But, I'm a Slytherin. I didn't even think you ever knew who I was until last week. We've never really talked."

James's smile falters and his thumb moves behind your ear as he holds your cheek. "That's my fault. I should have said something sooner but with my reputation and all," he looks away, his face twisted in shame, "I didn't want to scare you away."

You see the sincerity in his eyes but ask wearily, "So it doesn't bother you?" 

"That you're in Slytherin?" James smiles a little. "No, it doesn't, love. I don't care. I've seen how you are and I think you're absolutely lovely," he catches himself, "I mean, I'm not saying Slytherin's aren't lovely,"

You shut him up with a kiss. It's confident and startling but James doesn't complain. He simply pulls you in closer and lets his mouth explore yours with a passion he didn't know he had. He didn't know how starved he was of your taste until now.

Fuck, he's fucked. 

You pull away, lips wet and stare at him. "Sorry," you mutter.

"Sorry?" James frowns and leans in to kiss you again, "Don't you dare be sorry. Just kiss me," his words leave you a mush in his arms and you're happy for his hand around your back because otherwise you would fall over. 

When he finally disconnects your lips, he leans his forehead on yours and whispers what he'd been thinking, "You'll kill me, love."

You smile and hold his arm. "Thanks for saving me by the way, when I was under the potion," you say. 

James leans away and studies your soft expression with a small smile. "I'd be an asshole not to help you. I didn't want to see you get hurt." 

"Still, if you hadn't seen that something was wrong I don't know what would have happened."

"Nothing would have happened because I was there," James insists and kisses your forehead, "I'll always be there." He adds in a whisper into your hair.

It's only for him to hear. He doesn't want to just tell you he's there for you, instead he wants to show you. Everyday.

[ssahotchnerr]

So the mom friend!reader fic?? What if she’s sick and trying to hide it from the others, especially Aaron, while at work and also still trying being the mom friend 😭🖤

hidden efforts

AWW cw; fem!reader, being sick descriptions, established relationship (aaron and reader are married), fluff <333 continued from simultaneously

despite hand sanitizer and vitamin c, whatever cold spencer had managed to overtake your immune system next. brutally.

you woke up feeling unwell, but it was just a distant pang. nothing major, nothing worth staying home over. but as the day moved forward you began to regret your decision; you barely had the strength to lift a pen. and through the course of the morning, the trash bin hidden underneath your desk had grown dangerously full of tissues.

while you loved taking care of others, you didn't favor being the one being coddled. unless it was by someone with the first name aaron, last name hotchner. but even then, would you be reluctant to admit it.

"hey, do you know what-"

"2:30." you foolishly pushed your voice, attempting to hide the hoarseness within it - to sound as normal as you possibly could.

derek crossed his arms, amused sass in his voice, "i didn't even finish my question."

"but i answered it, didn't i?" you tried your hardest to return a teasing smile, but it was half your best. instead, you fought back a sneeze, prompting your eyes to water and nose to burn.

he nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly in suspicion. but he dropped it quickly, moving on.

and for the meantime, you turned back to the waiting work in front of you, forcing yourself to get something done.

"hey."

aaron's voice and sudden hands on the back of your chair caused you to jump in your seat. he quickly squeezed your shoulders, silently apologizing for startling you.

"you ready...?" his voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the contents of your desk, littered with cough drop wrappers and a few scrunched up tissues.

you did your best to block the scraps from his view - leaning forward, discreetly swiping them off side towards the container holding your pens - almost letting a cough escape as you opened your mouth. "y-yeah-"

"what are those?"

"the action reports for-"

"no, not that." aaron reached forward and plucked a wrapper off your desk, holding it up between his finger pads. his lips formed into a pout, "sweetheart, are you not feeling well?"

"i'm feeling perfectly fine."

due to the wheels on your chair, aaron was easily able to maneuver you back, exposing your tissue-filled bin. "then what's this?"

"allergies?" you offered, in a hopeful tone - maybe he'd buy that?

but naturally, your husband knew better, "why didn't you tell me you felt sick?"

"i'm not sick, jus' a cold." you swiveled your chair around, peering up at him.

the back of aaron's hand found your forehead, the scowl on his face deepening at his findings. "i don't think so. you're running a temperature, and now that i have a better look at you, you're rather flushed as well."

"flushed or not, we have a meeting-"

"no, we have a meeting." aaron responded, referring to himself and the others, "you're going right up to my office and laying down."

you gazed at him exasperatedly, playing up that look in your eyes, the one that was nearly impossible for him to say no to. "aaron-"

"nope, i’m not falling for it this time," he helped you to your feet, his hand supporting the far side of your hip as you wobbled vaguely. his eyes darted to the right, taking quick notice of someone walking by, "anderson, would you mind grabbing a water bottle and bringing it to my office?"

"so much for vitamin c, huh?" derek chimed in from his desk, his playful smile also on the sympathetic side.

you rolled your eyes, but allowed aaron to guide you up the few stairs into his office, gratefully.

he insisted you lay down on the couch (and not get up for the life of you), he insisted you keep the lights off, he insisted you use his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket.

"we'll head home once this concludes. if you need anything, give me a call, or send a text. i'll be here." aaron brushed your hair away from your forehead, placing a gentle kiss on it afterwards. "and, choice of soup is yours tonight."

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 7

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1])

THIS IS THE LAST EPISODE 4 ENTRY I SWEAR

agatha: why yes I'm listening politely because I'm being sociable, not because this story concerns me in any way shape or form

she did NOT want TO DO IT AGATHA. HE WAS HER SON TOO AGATHA. did you ever give her a chance to SAY any of THAT. damn rio is (metaphorically) fighting for her life here. waiting centuries to catch her wife with her guard down next to a random fire, and then reworking her LONG PLANNED SPEECH into bite sized easily digestible bits so that her emotionally stunted soulmate doesn't run away screaming

I was doing MY DAMN FUCKING JOB agatha

agatha looks away like whooops! wasn't listening! wasn't looking at you! no sir, not me!

that's right. acknowledge her feelings. show her that you understand but that you're hurting too. be mature. you're doing great. god the way she swallows and stares right ahead, so determined. this is such a crucial moment for her.

agatha: i'm stone cold. I'm a wall. this is not affecting me in the slightest. I'm bored, really.

lilia not missing a word of what rio's saying

lmao the neutral pronoun lasted two seconds. she's not even trying to pretend like she isn't talking about agatha. and the way she nods to herself like yes, I did the best I could with this. so, there.

"she is my scar" is going to the sapphic annals, isn't it?

LMAOOOO the unblinking cat stare. rio is like I WAS TALKING TO YOU DUM-DUM. I KNOW IT, YOU KNOW IT, EVERYONE AROUND THIS GODDAMN FIRE KNOWS IT. CAN YOU PLEASE PLEASE FUCKING TALK TO ME PLEASE DEAR GOD

and agatha doing a teeny tiny side glance and going whoooooooops not looking! I'm NOT looking! I'm not even here! and scrunching her face more and more trying to keep it blank

AND she's gone. she's so predictable lmaooo. every dang time.

awkwaaaaaard

rio with her soft smile again! with the little amused eye roll! never getting mad at agatha's antics. she's like FINE I'll come after you, you BIG BABY. the patience this woman has

lilia is so scared of rio because somehow, through her exceptional Seer abilities, she knew instinctively that this is her mortal foe. but something funny has just happened: here in front of her there's just a regular little guy, a bit odd maybe, doing her little thing, trying to talk to her ex. might it be... might it be that death isn't a monster, that it's just a thing, a strange but natural thing that happens to everybody? lilia cannot accept that quite yet. so she grabs rio and says no, no. I've seen what you are. you're scary, you're evil, you're dangerous. this is lilia's survival instincts kicking in. we are simply wired to fear death, that's just how humans are. it takes an exceptional mind and soul to see past that.

oh god, here we go, here we go. deep breaths (I'm telling this to myself tbh. i need the pep talk)

stroking her hair so gently. soft, tentative.

hey, subtitle people??? what the fuck??

rio just stands and stares. lets agatha decide what comes next, goes at her pace always

the haiR CARESSING

the HUG. the BIG SIGH. this bitch was running away screaming from rio just yesterday. and here she is. her love. her partner. she finally acknowledges rio's pain and all that they lost and all that they were (and still are tbh) to each other. THIS is what rio was looking for. she's not flirting to manipulate and deflect now, she's not being somebody else. this is agatha cracked open and bleeding love and sorrow

and they melt into each other, and they're rocking each other back and forth, with all their pain and tenderness and longing

agatha with her face buried in rio's shoulder. I'm unwell

and then agatha gently pushes rio back and strokes her hair and cradles her face like she did so many times before and leans in and here I am giving you a play-by-play and running a commentary like a totally normal and sane person would

you know what makes for a perfect onscreen kiss imo? no it's not tongue, although these two will give us plenty of that too. it's the TREMBLING. THE HESITATION. THE YEARNING.

rio and her superhuman willpower. couldn't be me.

and and and and and agatha looks at her puzzled for a second and doesn't register what's happening and dives for a kiss again she's so far gone. the feral animal noises I'm making you have no idea

THE ICY SHOWER

THE STEP BACK. THE MOST PAINED SMILE

THE REGRET

I think one big reason why agatha is always so calculated is because she's afraid her instincts will take over. she does something big and spectacular and stupid and then calls it a 'calculated risk' when it was actually a rush of fear, desire, sorrow, anger that she couldn't control. tonight rio has managed to poke a little hole into a carefully constructed dam, and now all the water is rushing out and tearing down the walls. agatha has rio in her arms and her shape, her scent, her skin are so nostalgic and familiar. her brain goes on autopilot, she's been lonely for so long, she is FAMISHED for love and connection and sex and acceptance. rio wanted her to open up, but agatha doesn't do half-measures. rio wanted her to give for a change, but agatha can only ever take.

rio HAS to put a stop to it. she puts logic before heart, one of them has to and you know agatha isn't gonna. more than anything rio wants to take this one perfect moment and run away with it, but instead she tears herself away and asks, what happens next? what happens if I have to take billy away from you? that reanimated corpse, that freak of nature who walked into your life only yesterday and took over?

billy is now part of the equation and rio cannot ignore it. she has been so gentle and careful with agatha, easing her into a reconciliation that is now in jeopardy because here comes billy maximoff like a sword of damocles! what happens if agatha takes her back only for rio to break her heart all over again? there would be no coming back from that. rio cannot help being the grim reaper just as much as agatha cannot help being a succubus, and she is almost at her breaking point here. because she is hurting too! she is sick of having to be the mature one! she's sick of always coming in second after all of agatha's issues! turns out there's a limit even to the heartbreak an impossibly old and wise being can take.

(and now I need a smoke and a future episode that is just 30 minutes of hot but soft cuddles and kisses and sweet nothings. please.)

once again a big shoutout and thank you to all the people reaching out and leaving comments, it's incredible to hear from you all @crybabyheathen @onceuponalegendbg @idkbroletssee @psychicsolanum @73chn1c0l0rr3v3l @a-tad-bit-obsessed @a-rusty-bucket-of-woes @miacheezytoon @isagrimorie @april-december @aquaaquila and I'm probably forgetting someone but I see you all and I appreciate you so much!

and now for something extra

[blusocket]

I've seen some people express some confusion about what Fortnight is about, why it opens the album, what's happening in the video, etc, so here's my attempt at an analysis. For the most part I'll be referring to the characters in the video with the names of the people playing them (Taylor and Post) but at times I'm going to be making direct reference to the events of Taylor's personal life and referring to the muses by their names (Joe and Matty) for the sake of clarity and simplicity.

The song itself uses the suburbia conceit as an extended metaphor for the beginning of her relationship with Matty (he's the neighbor she runs away to Florida with, Joe is the cheating husband.) For more eloquent and detailed thoughts on the narrative of the song you can check out Jaime @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes's post here.

The video is really dense, and I'm not 100% confident in every aspect of my interpretation, but I feel pretty sure that it's making extensive use of visual metaphor in order to tell roughly the same story as the song, just in a different setting. To start, Taylor wakes up chained to a bed in a white dress.

To me this suggests that she's been driven mad by being left at the altar, and is now trapped, surveilled and controlled, in a type of asylum. This represents the end of her relationship with Joe--waiting for a marriage that never came, feeling trapped, mentally unwell etc.

She then takes 'forget him' pills which reveal Post's tattoos on her face when she looks in the mirror.

This represents Matty (the "miracle move-on drug") and shows that he made a mark on her while she was still in the asylum--that is, still in her relationship with Joe. Additionally, in the wide shot where we see the mirror, its size and shape are very reminiscent of a one-way mirror, often seen in interrogation rooms and psychological experiments, further reinforcing the idea that Taylor is imprisoned here.

She then is able to go to the typewriter room and do her work, creating art about how she's feeling, shown by her repeatedly typing "I love you, it's ruining my life" on the typewriter. She's still in pain and feeling trapped. While there, she encounters Post and they create art together, which creates beauty and color in her life. The blue and gold obviously reference her writing about Joe, but the fact that her work is gold and Post's is blue may be a deliberate choice to draw parallels between Matty and Joe, as she does on numerous songs throughout TTPD.

The next scene, where Taylor's hair is down and she and Post are wearing the same black coat and pants, takes place inside her head (symbolized by the shape of the papers they're laying on.) She is dreaming about them being free and creating art together, represented by the papers surrounding them and book she's holding, which has the word "us" written on the cover. She's writing their story before it's begun.

She then reaches for his hand in her fantasy, accepting and asking for this relationship

Then we see that she's being studied and experimented on--the results of the lie detector test read "I love you, it's ruining my life." Her pain is an object of fascination.

Interestingly, Post is part of the group experimenting on her, but when the experiments begin to cause her pain, he liberates her.

This inspires Taylor to destroy the place where she's been trapped, which we see through her opening the filing cabinets that cover the walls and destroying the mirror. I also find the shot of her standing still while papers burn around her interesting and significant; I interpret this as Taylor destroying her own work about Joe. By choosing to leave, she is metaphorically burning--rejecting--the story she wrote about them.

Finally, Taylor and Post enter the dangerous outside world together; the rain echoes the lyric "I chose this cyclone with you" on the album's title track. While I do feel the meaning of Post being in the phone booth is somewhat ambiguous, the framing and the accompanying lyric--"I've been calling ya but you won't pick up" suggest that he's attempting to communicate with her but can't reach her. They are free of her prison, but still separated.

Then, he hangs up the phone and reaches for her hand, and she takes it. The final shot of the video is a close up on their linked hands, presenting us with a cautiously optimistic ending--they are lost and vulnerable in the middle of a storm, but they have each other.

I feel this is a somewhat less sinister, for lack of a better word, portrayal of the start of Matty and Taylor's relationship than is suggested elsewhere on the record, though I believe Post's character being part of the group experimenting on her is significant and the editing creates some ambiguity about exactly when and why she decides to break free. But I hope this clarifies how the video sets up the beginning of this story, the fallout of which is then chronicled over the course of the rest of TTPD.

[suguwu]

naoya and gojo’s sister makes me mentally unwell in a dangerously good way, if you have any more thoughts on the topic i am waiting patiently 👀👀👀👀👂👂👂👂

negl i have been thinking about Them. so i am happy to oblige with a few more thoughts about them!

—

satoru, you think, is annoying.

he stabs one of your hairpins into place, the metal chiming, a sweet summer sound. sunlight catches in the ornate petals of it. you reach up and adjust it; it's cool against your fingertips.

"satoru."

he doesn't look at you, picking up another hairpin, this one burnished with age, its pearls gleaming, moon-touched. you wonder when he stole it from his grandmother.

he's more careful with this one, tucking it into your hair with long pianist's fingers. you tilt your head to help him, but he nudges you back into place.

you glance at him in the mirror. he's wearing sunglasses today; you can just make out a sliver of blue, the sky come down to earth. heaven devoured.

he reaches out for another pin.

you grab his wrist. infinity is slick against your skin, a glass wall, but then you feel the warmth of him. the quiet rhythm of his pulse.

"i don't like you this quiet," you say.

"i don't like you getting married," he returns.

you hum. "is that what you're sulking about?"

he makes an outraged noise. "i'm not sulking."

"you are."

"am not!"

you eye him in the mirror, raising a brow.

he huffs. slips another hairpin into place. he runs a gentle finger over it; it clinks quietly. you think of the windchimes that hung in the plum tree, the way your mother closed her eyes to listen to their song.

she was not invited today.

you take the final hairpin before satoru can. it slides into place perfectly. your brother's hands slips to your shoulders; he squeezes, one long, hard pulse.

"he won't treat you right," he says.

you tilt your head, considering. naoya is oddly careful with you, despite his sharp pride and even sharper tongue. you think of the way he looks at satoru and sigh.

"i think he will," you say.

"because?"

"because he thinks of me as something of yours."

satoru's grip tightens.

"he—"

"—is a zen'in," you say. "really, it's to be expected."

satoru pauses. then, slowly, he reaches up and takes off his sunglasses. you meet his eyes, the burning comet-tail of them.

"i'll kill him if he hurts you."

you smile.

"not if i kill him first."

[yup-thats-me]

all for you • Gabimaru.

pairing: Gabimaru x wife!reader

synopsis: his wife has given him the best gift of all. a baby ; the reader is pregnant.

warning: pregnancy.

"y/n, let's take you to the village doctor, yeah?" Gabimaru said, stroking the back of his wife lovingly as she threw up.

this was the fourth time this week and it was making Gabi worry about his wife. obviously she's his the only reason to stay alive. it was for her that he made it out alive from Shinsenkyo alive, no matter the dangerous situations he faced. it was all for her. now that she's unwell made his insides churn in fear. if anything happens to her, maybe he'll burn down the entire country.

however, y/n partially knew what the problem was, just a little uncertain.

"Okay...", she spoke slowly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. she slowly drank the water Gabi gave her. by the help of her husband, she stood up slowly, walking back inside the house to get dressed to visit the doctor.

"do you want me to help you change, y/n?" Gabimaru offered.

it won't be the first time that he'd help his wife get dressed. he had done it a number of times, but this time, y/n turned down his offer.

she smiled at him softly, "I'm quite alright. just be outside ill come in a bit, okay?" She kissed him on the cheek.

Gabi nodded, waiting outside the room, pacing I'm anticipation.

inside the room on the other hand, y/n was already dressed. she stood in front of the mirror, caressing her stomach deliberately. "can it really be true?" She wishpered.

when she came out, Gabi put his hand around her waist, walking slowly. y/n felt weak. every now and then, she held Gabi more tighter as the two walked. finally, the two reached the doctor's place.

"how many days has it been?" the doctor, an elderly woman asked the couple.

the two looked at each other for a second. "this has been going on for more than a week," Gabi replied for y/n.

the woman nodded. "can I talk to y/n alone for a moment?"

Gabimaru shot the woman a suspicious look but nevertheless agreed when y/n squeezed his hand, silently telling him that its alright. again, Gabi stepped out from the room and sat outside.

so many thoughts ran amok his head. what if y/n is terminally ill? or some incurable disease that will take her from him? no. he won't let that happen. even if it was an incurable disease, he'll die with her. no questions asked. and if the disease was curable, he'll do everything in his power to cure back his y/n. he made so many assumptions about y/n's hypothetical diseases, never for once did he think she might be pregnant. he's that thick skinned when it comes to y/n. he forgets to think anything logical when it comes to her.

few minutes later, the two women stepped out the house. Gabi ran to y/n. seeing her smiling made him relax just a bit.

"well? what is it?"

the woman giggled. "I'll leave you two to it. Best of luck", she said going back inside the room leaving the couple alone.

y/n seemed to be avoiding any eye contact with Gabi. "y/n you're making me nervous again. tell me what the problem is!"

"Gabi...you're going to be a father", Y/n replied slowly. she laughed internally as the look on Gabi's face changed from anxious to a confused one. "...huh?"

y/n blushed. "Gabimaru, I am pregnant, woth your child." She spoke nervously. she knew Gabi won't be angry at the news but still she was hesitant.

Gabi stood in his spot not miving even an inch. "Oh my god," He said sitting on the ground. He was too happy to speak. Y/n smiled, kneeling down beside him. "shh...its okay." She hugged her husband as her husband broke down in her hold.

she made Gabi face her, wiping his tears away. "are you okay?"

Gabi smiled at her, hugging her close. "Okay? I'm far more than okay! you've made me the happiest man alive, Y/n!" He laughed, kissing her shortly.

the two also went to the market on their way back,buying sweets and Y/n watched with a smile as her husband gave the sweets tk everyone for the good news. he even fed the stray dogs. he was happy, he wanted the world to celebrate too!

when the two reached home, Y/n was about to enter the kitchen to prepare the dinner, when Gabi stopped her. "And what do you think you're doing?"

Y/n looked at him confused. "We have to have dinner too. you know," She giggled, making Gabi's face tinted with bright red. "Of course I know. but I won't allow you to cook. I'll do it." He said.

"Why, darling? you want to eat something different? tell me and I'll make it. why should you make dinner?"

"No. from now onwards, you can't cook, clean, or do any work. I'll do it all. You and our baby need rest," He said, scratching the back of his head. his statement made y/n giggle. "But anat, I'm just two weeks in. I can still work."

Gabimaru shook his head. "No. I said I'll do all the work. all you have to do is rest. I can't have you working in this condition. I want both my baby and my wife to be healthy," He said caressing your belly. You smiled at him, knowing there's no way of changing his mind now. so you gave up.

as Gabimaru prepared the dinner, so many thoughts came to his mind. family. a family. it was always had been just a word for Gabimaru. he believed he'd never be able to have a family, not a person like him. he was a monster. how can a monster have a family? but then you came along. you healed his scars, made him look at the world differently. it was yiu who taught him that this world is a beautiful place if one knew how to look at it. he is forever greatful to you. he always will be. he prays now, something he'd never ever done. he prays to the Almighty that you'll always stay with him. he promises to love you endlessly, and now that he's soon going to have a baby, he wishes to become the best father that there ever is. he wants to become perfect for you. all for you.

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!!

[rayclubs]

Thoughts on the Zoldyck family dynamics because I'm normal and fine and normal.

Their grandfather is law. He seems to handle the most dangerous contracts, he oversees the kids' training, but he doesn't seem very personally involved - as in, he doesn't interact with them directly and doesn't appear to be interested in what they do at all, unless it's work-related. I think he's one of those set-in-their-ways old people who's had a long streak of valuable achievements throughout their life so they think themselves infallible. I think Kuroro would have obliterated his ass but he would die before he admitted it.

Now, Silva, being the father figure of the family, is compensating like all hell. Literally no other reason for a man to be this tits-out gigantic, but Zeno is still the head of the family, and that deals major damage to Silva's ego. In way of self-validation, he arranges this distant yet carefully controlled relationship with his kids, and he likes being seen as the Cool Dad, but only very rarely, so that every crumb of his attention is sought after with utmost devotion. I don't actually think he hates Zeno or anything though, I think he kind of secretly also wants to be validated by him but it's just not happening because Zeno doesn't give enough of a fuck.

Kikyo is not a presence in the Zoldyck family business. She's also supremely mentally unwell. She's generally well-treated but often neglected by her husband, she's not as successful at her job as the men of the family due to having to split her time between assassinations and child care, she feels unfulfilled as a result and does it have any functional coping mechanisms for it. Like Silva, she seeks validation from her kids. Unlike Silva, she cannot build herself a Cool Mom profile that the older kids would respect, so she dotes on the younger children instead.

Illumi is the oldest child, so he was trained by either Zeno, Silva, or both, personally. He's diligent but untalented. He has a lot of discipline but very little main character juice in his veins. Due to his father's policy of keeping his kids at a distance, as well as his mother's overbearing control, most of the actual parental responsibilities regarding all the younger kids were pushed onto Illumi. He was a bit too young to get overly attached to Milluki in this manner, but he feels very protective of Killua both because they're fairly close as brothers, and because Illumi views his younger siblings as his responsibility. If anything were to happen to one of his brothers, it would be seen by the rest of the family as a failure on Illumi's part. However, due to being the oldest child, he actually spent the most time with Silva, so he lacks the puppydog instinct the man so fervently instills in all the other kids. Illumi is not looking for validation. He's terrified of his parents and grandpa.

Milluki is the failure of the family. He's desperate to please but neither talented nor diligent. His grandpa views him as moderately worthless, his father is too emotionally constipated after involving himself with the parenting of Illumi to even notice Milluki, and Illumi was too young when Milluki was born to become a substitute mentor figure for him. Milluki thinks Killua is stealing the attention he so desperately wants. How, you'd think that since Illumi is papa's boy, then, logically, Milluki would be mama's, and fucking hell he wishes he was, but his anime figurine collection is too cringe, and remember - he's desperate but not diligent. He's obedient but not clever. He can't pick up on social cues and emotional signals. He wants to do what his mom wants from him but can't meet her unpredictable tastes and unstable moods. She mildly dislikes him.

Killua is the prodigy. Illumi loves him, Silva can't wait to emotionally manipulate him to make himself look good, and Zeno pays attention to him but doesn't bother all that much with parenting him - all for previously established reasons. Kikyo tries to dot on him but he's only talented, not diligent - like Milluki, he can't give her what she wants. Unlike Milluki, Killua has a spine. He already has Silva's and Illumi's approval and validation, so he's not running after his mother looking for affections. He kind of starts doing his own thing after he meets some folks outside the family and they introduce him to the concept of free will.

Alluka is transfem and her father hates that whole ordeal viscerally. Like Milluki, she's neither talented nor diligent. Unlike Milluki, she has evil autism ontop of it all. Zeno and Kikyo wish she didn't exist. Milluki senses the similarity between them and doesn't actively dislike her but he's too busy chasing after everyone's approval to actually be a good brother to her. Illumi was so beyond traumatized by the time she was born, I'm actually fully convinced he removed her from his memory entirely or he would go insane. Killua likes her because she's weird and epic, she likes Killua because he's exactly the same.

Kalluto is finally a mama's boy, and holy shit does he play into it. She dresses him up and does his hair and kisses his forehead and calls him a sweetie, and he just wants to go outside for one (1) day. Silva likes him fine but he's still riding the high from Killua looking at him with admiration in his eyes once so he leaves the matter to Kikyo and Illumi, as per usual. Illumi loves Kalluto in a similar way to how he loves Killua, but Kalluto is more protected and far, far more obedient, so Illumi isn't scared for him nearly as much. Milluki thinks Kalluto is annoying, but Kalluto is emotionally intelligent enough to avoid conflict and not provoke any hatred. Killua thinks Kalluto is a stupid little baby and Kalluto honest to god does not care. Kalluto likes Illumi, is indifferent towards Silva and Zeno, tolerates and at times even loves Kikyo, and is too young to properly remember Alluka. Thank god the spider adopted him.

Thanks for reading, 'ight cheers.

[pinkanonwrites]

I’ll Take Care Of You

“It’s rotten work.”

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

My Vash/Reader sickfic that I’ve been promising! I’ve been dinking around trying to get it to a place I like and I like it now, so time to post! Read on AO3 here!

Vash/Reader, 3,700+ words, GN!Reader, sickfic, sick reader, comfort, worried vash, non-sexual nudity, cuddling, sharing warmth, emeto/vomit warning

It's strange, when you're feeling unwell, how easy it is for the tiniest things to set you off.

There are plenty of day to day irritants in life, especially living on a desolate sand ball like No Man's Land. For the most part you'd learned to take many of them in stride, laughing when you could, letting the emotions roll over you like a wave when you couldn't until they receded softly back into the recesses of your mind and you could once again roll over and face the day ahead. It helped to have good company, and despite the crowded dune-crawler and the constant driving it entailed, you usually found somewhere amidst the chaos to enjoy yourself.

Not today.

You already hadn't felt well leaving the previous town, head and stomach swimming too much to risk eating more than some dry crackers and lukewarm canteen water, and even that made your innards pitch and roil dangerously. The car was constantly shifting, massive tires ping-ponging the entire chassis back and forth whenever you climbed over a particularly rocky bit of terrain and doing absolutely nothing to soothe the vertigo pooling in the bottom of your brain. It was too hot, too cramped, and worst of all?

Too. Damn. Loud.

Wedged between Wolfwood and Vash in the backseat, you had no escape from the blond's excessive snoring on your left and Nicholas leaning up over the center console to pester Meryl about her driving. Of course she was snapping back with equal levels of vitriol, voices rising slowly with each back and forth. In the passenger seat Milly was giggling along to their vicious banter, occasionally peppering in comments or fiddling with the radio dial, weather reports and religious sermons screeching through the fuzz.

The static of the radio crackled, Meryl's window-mounted fan clicked sharply with each rotation, Vash's head made a soft thunk as it connected with the glass of his window and Wolfwood kept hitting you with his elbow as he reached over the console and Milly was laughing and Meryl was yelling and Wolfwood was yelling back and-

"Hic…"

Your wet, little gasp silenced the car's occupants like a gunshot, your own hands too slow to stifle it from coming out. You could feel everyone's attention turn to you, even Vash beginning to stir to your left, and you couldn't tell if the heat flushing to your head was humiliation, sickness, heatstroke, or some miserable combination of the three. But you do know that said heat and said gazes made you curl up in the middle seat, covering your face with your long sleeves as you let out another miserable little sob.

"Are you alright back there?"

"Oh no, please don't cry! Do you feel carsick?"

"H-Hey, it's gonna be alright. Is this cause I kept hittin' ya with my elbow? Cause I said I was sorry."

You sobbed again, tears and snot and sweat running down your face and wetting your shirt sleeves as you pulled your knees up, curling as small as you could get. "'M sorry, 'm sorry, I'm fine."

"You're not fine! Did something happen?" Meryl couldn't look away from the road, but Milly had all but fully turned around in her seat to check on you.

"Do you need some water? I still have some if you're all out."

"C'mon, birdie, don't go all silent on us."

You wanted to shrivel up and dissolve into sand in the middle seat, curling in upon your own body as if it may actually make you disappear. This didn't help, it wasn't helping, it was just more noise and more worry and more hot tears running down your cheeks and you just wanted it all to stop.

"Hey, what's going on?"

Pulling your head up from your knees, you were met by Vash's hand gently brushing your forehead. His palm rested there, warm and steady, as he looked you over with a soft concern.

"You feel pretty warm. Is everything alright?" As he pulled away he brought his thumb down to swipe a stray tear from your cheek. You wanted to bawl, to clamber into his arms and let him cover you with his coat, shielding you from the heat and the noise and the (brightbrightwaytoobright) sun. But when you opened your mouth to speak, tongue dry and unsteady, you instead croaked out four, painfully small words.

"I'm gonna throw up."

"...Eh? EH?!? H-HANG ON!" You were jostled back by the force of Vash diving forward, clapping both hands over your mouth with a low groan. Your stomach pitched wildly, thick saliva pooling in the back of your throat as Vash jammed himself over the center console. "PULL OVER!"

"Wh-What? Why?" Meryl yelped when Vash exploded into her line of sight.

"JUST DO IT! PLEASE?!?"

She hardly needed to 'pull over' in the stretches of open desert, but the dune-crawler rumbled and bumped to a jerky halt that only served to make your stomach sickness worse. Not even waiting for Vash to unbuckle his seatbelt, you clambered over his lap and opened the door, collapsing to the ground just in time to empty the meager contents of your stomach into the hot sand. There was hardly anything to hack up, everything you'd eaten over the course of the day splattering out with a few shivering gags. But your body continued to retch out of your control, fresh tears dripping off your cheeks and into the puddle as you helplessly dry heaved on your hands and knees.

"Hey, hey, you're alright. Deep breaths, okay? I've got you." There was a cool hand brushing your hair back from your sticky forehead, and another rubbing the small space between your shoulder blades.

Finally, when your stomach had finished cramping and the last thick glob of saliva had drooled from your open mouth onto the sand, your body pitched forward dangerously, elbows collapsing from exhaustion. You would have face-planted straight into your own mess if Vash wasn't there to catch you, hauling you backwards so you could slump weakly against his chest as he sat with you in the sand. You could hear shuffling around you, footsteps, but your eyes were still blurry with moisture as you squinted weakly in the afternoon sun.

"Thanks, Milly. Here, drink this." You felt the rim of a canteen press to your lips, and let Vash tip your head back to take a swig of water.

"Don't drink too fast now, or you might get sick again!" One of Milly's large hands gently caressed the top of your head. "We've got plenty of time to get to the next town, so take as long as you need!"

"I'm sorry." You whimpered again, feeling twice as pathetic in the face of everyone's kindness. You could hear Meryl click her tongue somewhere off to your right.

"You don't have to apologize! Everybody gets sick sometimes, it's just a thing that happens."

"Yer lucky we're planning on a hotel tonight, way better than sleeping in the sand-OW! HEY!"

"Dingy!?"

"Quit being a jerk! They already don't feel good and you're not helping!"

"How am I not helping?" Wolfwood hissed. "I'm reminding them they don't have to sleep in the back of a dingy car all night!"

"Ooh, boy. There they go again." Vash sighed out a chuckle, hand never pausing as he carefully rubbed your upper arm. "Whenever you feel up for it, we can get going. Okay?"

As Meryl and Wolfwood continued to bicker quietly in the background, you let yourself melt fully into Vash's chest. His prosthetic arm came around your waist to keep you from slipping too far down, and you lolled your head back against his collarbone as your eyelids fluttered. "I'm sorry…" You slurred again, even though by this point you knew the apology was not necessary. "Jus' don't feel good…"

"You get a little silly when you're sick, don't you?" There was a teasing tone to Vash's voice, one that made you feel all warm and cozy in your chest. "You're being very polite right now."

"'M tired, Vash." You whined, rolling to your side a bit to nuzzle your cheek against his chest.

"I know." He said, so soft and so fond. "When we get back in the car, you can lay on me, alright? Then you can sleep the whole ride there. I promise."

"Mmh, yes please…"

You couldn't remember exactly how long you spent on the ground, just the vague feelings of Vash helping you to your feet, buckling your seatbelt for you after you clambered weakly back to your spot. As soon as he was seated he twisted his body towards you, leaning back against the car door so you could sprawl yourself out across his chest. And sprawl you did, fingers clutching absently at his coat as you tucked your face into the crook of his neck with a content little sigh. The dune-crawler rocked slightly as your other friends climbed into their respective seats, but with your cheek pressed to Vash's chest it didn't make you feel so dangerously nauseous anymore.

"Try getting some rest. We'll wake you up in the next town." His metal hand found the small of your hip and rested there, keeping you curled safely against his chest as the engine rumbled back to life. Eyelids dipping heavily, you mumbled out a few clumsy words of appreciation before blackness overtook your vision.

"Thank you… Vash…"

You didn't jostle blearily awake again until Meryl had already paid for your respective hotel rooms, letting you rest slumped against Vash in the backseat while she chatted with the man at the desk. Given the size of the town itself, it made sense that there would only be a few rooms available. Fortunately Meryl was able to book two doubles and a single, leaving you with your own space to recuperate while the rest of the group split the two double rooms between themselves.

"We'll be right across the street, okay?" Vash gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder as he pointed out the window of your hotel room to the nearby diner. "Try and get a little more rest, and I'll bring you back something for dinner!"

“Mhm… I will.” You mumbled. You'd let your travel bag thunk loudly to the floor next to your bed as you collapsed into the mattress. Some of the vertigo had subsided after your extended nap, but you hardly wanted to push your luck by trying to go out to dinner with everyone else.

"There's even a bath if you want to take one, might help you feel better." Vash gave a final, soothing rub to the space between your shoulder blades before you could hear him stepping away, boots thudding softly on the wood floor. "I'll be back before you know it. Sleep well."

"Have fuuuun." You sighed out, door clicking shut behind him and leaving you in silence. As tired as you were, there was a tacky sweatiness to your skin, sickness and desert heat making you feel distinctly gross to the touch. Maybe a bath would be a good idea after all…

Reluctantly, you slumped into a seated position before getting back to your feet. The bathroom was larger than you'd expected for the size of the inn, and your vision swam slightly as you reached over to fiddle with the knobs and start the sudden rush of water. It was even warm; how much did this place cost? Distantly you felt a little prickle of guilt, Meryl was probably spending extra just to make sure you could rest in a vague semblance of comfort. You'd have to be sure to thank her profusely, when you could actually think straight. You clumsily shed your clothes, letting them fall to the tiled floor as you slipped into the warm water and toed the knob back off again with your foot.

It felt good at first, dunking your head under the water and coming up again with a soft huff as rivulets ran from your hair. But you were far too tired to even wash yourself properly, and though the water barely bordered on warm, something about the heat made your dizziness spike all over again. You couldn't even bring yourself to stand back up to get out, slumping against the side of the tub and resting your cheek on the cool ceramic edge. All you needed was to close your eyes for a moment, and once the spiraling in your head stopped you'd be fine to climb back out again. You'd just get a little more rest in the meantime…

"Heyyy, are you feeling any better? I brought you some soup! We just need to bring the bowl back tomorrow morning."

Vash knocked twice on your door, but received no response. Man, you must be really exhausted. Your bedroom light was visible from the street, so when he saw it on he'd assumed you were still awake. He tried the handle, finding your door to still be unlocked.

"I'm coming in, okay?" He twisted the handle, hesitating just a moment before adding. "...Don't be naked!"

He shouldered the door open, one hand holding your lidded bowl of soup and the other covering his eyes. Kicking the door shut behind him, Vash hesitated a moment before peeking through his spread fingers. Your room was empty, bed still made, bag exactly where you'd dropped it just before he left. Vash's stomach sank, quickly setting the bowl on the table as he called out your name. You wouldn't have gone somewhere, would you? Did someone see him bringing you into the hotel, maybe peg you as a sidekick of The Humanoid Typhoon? There weren't any signs of a struggle, though. Maybe you were sicker than he thought, and he'd left you all alone when you were at your most vulnerable. His gaze flickered around the room, grasping for any sign of where you may have gone or what might have happened.

Finally, it landed on the bathroom door. It wasn't open when he left, and a slim trail of light was glinting from the gap between it and the doorframe. There was silence beyond it, a blistering, agonizing silence. He took two hesitant steps forwards, knocking shakily on the doorframe, before finally nudging it open and letting himself inside.

His heart twisted and stammered in his chest when his gaze finally landed on you, rabbiting up into a thundering panic when you didn't even acknowledge his entrance. You were slumped in the bathtub, one arm hanging over the edge and your cheek lolled against the rim of the basin, eyelids shut but fluttering weakly. There was a sickly pallor to your skin, and even from a distance Vash could see the goosebumps that had broken out across every stretch of it currently visible to him. You were even shivering, hard.

"H-Hey!" He didn't have time to be flustered at your state of complete undress, too busy stumbling forward to lift your limp and unmoving body from the bath. The water was cool, almost cold as he dunked his arms in, soaking the sleeves of his shirt and jacket as he hooked you under the armpits and pulled you into his arms. Letting himself sink to his knees so you could rest in his lap, he let go of you with one arm for just a moment, just long enough to grasp blindly at a towel on the counter to bundle you in. Your head thunked limply against his chest as soon as he had you wrapped in the towel and back in his arms. "Hey, can you hear me? I've got you now, it's gonna be okay."

It didn't feel like it was going to be okay, not to Vash at least. His stomach was swimming with guilt as he carried you back out to your bed, bundling you in the sheets and using the towel to dry the tips of your hair that were still damp. You were still shaking, thin blankets doing far too little to bring the warmth back to your body. Of course there wouldn't be any more stored in the hotel room either; it wasn't like anyone needed them most of the time anyway. He could dip back down the hallway and grab the blankets from his own bed, but that meant leaving you alone again, even for just another few moments. The thought made Vash feel vaguely sick himself.

Only one thing he could do then.

Vash shucked off his coat and tossed it over the back of a chair, hesitating for a moment before doing the same with his turtleneck. Waterlogged sleeves clung to his arms as he wrestled the damp thing off, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor before moving back to your bedside. He tugged back the top blanket, leaving you swaddled in the sheet as he clambered in next to you and pulled the blanket back up to his chin. You let out a soft sigh through your nose as you curled instinctively into his warmth, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. Oh so hesitantly, like you were made of fine china, Vash draped an arm around your bundled form and splayed his hand out wide along the small of your back.

"I'm sorry…" He murmured, clutching your shuddering body like you would dissolve away between his fingertips if he relaxed, even for a moment. "I'm so sorry. I should have stayed. I won't leave again. I'm sorry."

"Mmmrh… Vash?"

He jolted, cupping your face with a hesitant call of your name as you blinked miserably awake. Head thumping and body aching, you squinted until Vash's face phased into clarity, all quivering lip and furrowed brow and stinging, glassy eyes. Weakly, you wrestled a hand free from the sheet, wiping at the corner of his eye with your thumb. He choked on a sob, melting into your palm with a relieved gasp.

"You're okay."

"Mmh… Head hurts a lot. What time is it?" You grumbled. The last thing you remembered was stooping down to run yourself a bath, then the rest of it faded into a hazy blur. Vash sniffled, pressing a kiss to your palm.

"Evening. Probably around 8? You passed out in the bath… It was really cold."

Fragmented memories began to click back into place, and you gripped the sheets close to your body with your free hand as you suddenly processed your own nudity. A spike of humiliation shot through you, as dulled as it was by your swimming senses.

"God, I'm sorry. I didn't scare you too bad, did I?"

Vash didn't respond, but the look on his face gave you all the answer you needed.

"Oh, honey." The sheets were tucked close up enough to your chest that you didn't hesitate to free your other hand to cup his face as well. His gaze trailed off to the corner of his eye, unable to keep contact with yours. "I'm so sorry, you must have been so worried."

"I-It's alright! It's not a big deal, really. I'm just glad you're okay."

You didn't relent, not yet, instead leaning in and pressing a kiss to the center of his forehead. "It is a big deal. I scared you, didn't I?"

"Not on purpose or anything."

"That doesn't mean it didn't feel real. Oh, Vash." His breath hitched when you murmured his name, another fresh tear or two slipping down his cheeks. "I'm okay. You found me and I'm gonna be alright, alright? I'm right here."

A tiny, pained whimper escaped him as he bundled you into his arms, hiding his teary face in the crook of your neck. Both flesh and metal hands fisted the fabric draped across your back as he pressed a kiss to the soft space in between your neck and your shoulder. "I shouldn't have left. I should have made sure you were okay. I shouldn't have told you to take a bath."

"Hey, hey, hold on. You didn't make me do anything, I chose to take a bath. None of this is your fault, Vash. Things happen sometimes." Your cradled the back of his head in one hand, and rubbed soothing circles across his broad back with the other. "You came to check on me, and you found me, and you got me warm. You're so good, Vash. My wonderful boy."

He sniffled against your neck again, but you could feel the faintest hint of a smile pressed against your skin. "...I brought you some soup. Are you hungry?"

You hummed, trailing your fingertips up and down the jut of his shoulder blade. "In a little bit. Can you warm me up a bit more first? You're like a living space heater."

Finally, you could feel some of the nervous tension begin to eke out of Vash's muscles as he began to melt into your arms. He tugged you forward, just enough that your fronts were pressed together from the chest all the way down to where your legs intertwined, thin fabric sheet separating your bare chests.

"Good? Not too warm?" His heartbeat was thundering loud enough for you to feel, his hands so gentle where they rested upon your exhausted body. "Let me know if you get too warm, okay?"

"I will. But this is perfect." You nuzzled your forehead against his shoulder, making him stifle a soft chuckle. "I could fall asleep again."

"Not yet! You've got to at least eat something first, okay? After you eat, then you can sleep."

"Always looking after me.~" You cooed. "I will, okay? In just a few minutes."

Your answer seemed to placate him for now as he pressed another kiss to your neck, light and chaste. He nosed along your jawbone, breath light and ticklish as he murmured. "Can I stay here tonight? I know I have my own room, and you need to rest, and I don't want to be a bother, but-"

"Yes." You replied, before he could talk himself out of it. "Yes, please stay with me. I want you to."

There was a palpable relief in the sigh he let out at your response. "Good. Cause I probably just would have camped out in the hallway if you said no. Might get in trouble with the owners for that."

"Well we can't have that happen, now can we?"

"No we cannot.~"

You chuckled, body feeling light for the first time that day as you let Vash cradle you in his steady arms.

[bellezaycafe]

Get Your Shit Together - Chapter 6

genre: 2024 Season AU

pairing: Romantic! oc x two people because y'all voted on a triangle ;). platonic! oc x literally the whole grid.

warnings: lots swearing, mentions of the accident and crimes, discussions about gangs, mentions of bars and alcohol. Paranoia and an argument. love triangle crumbs

context: Part 1 and Masterlist…

Comments: massive lore drop but I've tried to keep the story moving and interesting. I'm a sucker for small details so I hope y'all have good memories ;)

"I'm in a witness protection program."

Sadie clenched her jaw, unsure what else to say. Lando and Max were silent.

"What did you see?" Lando's voice was so soft Sadie barely heard him over the road noise.

Her right hand flexed on the steering wheel. "I can't tell you that."

"Why did you volunteer?"

"Because I love F1."

Max chimed in. "You said it's too public, too many cameras."

"What I reported happened after Melbourne and just before SIlverstone. I- I think it would be better if I just told you, wouldn't it."

"Yes," Lando muttered, not meeting her glance.

"Okay, well. I was working a bar in Sydney and witnessed a crime. I was seen calling the cops and..." She took a deep breath. "And let's just say that I had dobbed on someone dangerous. Someone influential and known to police."

"You snitched on a gangster?" Lando's wide eyes would have made Sadie laugh in any other situation. "A real life gangster?"

"I didn't know who they were! I was cornered in an alley the next day and after that I spent all of my money on a two week stay in England. From there, I reported the attempted assault and was told to stay in England for the two weeks. The police said they could use that time to get me into witness protection and set up the right safeguards, if I anonymously testify in court. It happened to be the Grand Prix weekend, so I volunteered instead of sitting around."

"Attempted assault?" Max stressed.

Sadie glanced at him in the rear view and her silence was answer enough. You don't need to know.

"Let me get this right. You snitched on a gang, were threaten and then ran to England?!"

"Yeah, pretty much." Her tone didn't match her racing heart.

"What happened to 'too many cameras'?" Lando toyed with his silver necklace.

"Obviously I didn't consider how dramatically you were going to break your ankle in turn, whatever it was. I figured, as a medic, I’d spend a lot of time in areas with very few to no cameras.”

Sadie glanced at the phone Lando showed her and, with one hand on the wheel, swung them left and down a small side street.

“You are right, though,” Max observed. “The reporters aren’t allowed in the medical tents unless they’re unwell themselves.”

“Is that why you’re in Melbourne? Are you from Sydney?” She could hear curiosity in Lando’s voice.

“It’s complicated.” Sadie grimaced.

“It’s seems like everything is,” Max muttered.

“Oh, shush,” she joked. She knew it had landed when both boys smiled slightly. “I grew up just outside of Melbourne. I’ve been working back at that bar since I was 18. I took some unofficial leave in June to experience working in another city while we had extra staff. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have chosen Sydney.”

The boys were quiet as Sadie explained her time working at bars in Sydney and enjoying the nightlife of another city. She talked about the move up there and the sudden disappearance to England. Some of her stuff was still in Sydney, including some personal keepsakes like a bracelet from her mother. Sadie explained that Lewis and Max knew about the witness protection, but nothing further. She’d only told them when they visited her in hospital the day after the accident and after some significant convincing. She answered questions about her leg and how it had healed, which had turned out to be quite well.

“How much physio did you have to do?” There was guilt in Lando’s question.

“Just some at home things, it was quite easy,” Sadie admitted. She didn’t want to elaborate on the facts she hadn’t done any official physio because she couldn’t afford it. Australian public health care was good, but not that good. “How well has the ankle healed?”

“It was slower than I wanted but I’m cleared for next season which is good.”

Max grumbled, “but he didn’t stop complaining about it for months.”

“I was in pain, mate!”

“I know! You told me every chance you got!”

Sadie smiled at their banter, glad they weren’t holding up walls of suspicion anymore.

As she pulled up to the Piastri Family home, she cleared her throat. “I- ummm… It was good to see you again Lando, and good to meet you Max.”

“Oh no,” Lando chided. “We’re not done, I am not letting you just drive into the sunset again.”

“It’s already dark,” Sadie pointed out. “And that’s not what happened the first time.”

“And on that note, I’m out,” Max exclaimed. “It was lovely to meet you, Sadie. Thank you for what you did at Silverstone.”

He jumped out of the car before she could say anything and practically ran to the red front door of a small, low set home.

Lando undid his seatbelt and turned to face her, pulling a leg onto the seat.

“Sadie, you vanished.”

Straight into then.

“I feel better seeing that you’re in one piece, and not hearing it from news,” she murmured.

“That’s what you have to say?” he scoffed.

Sadie pushed down irritation. She might struggle to stay in one place for very long, but she was a patient person who had drawers of calm, collected masks to choose from.

When she didn’t answer, Lando shook his head and closed his eyes.

“How do you think I felt?” he snapped. “Lewis told me you had stitches. How many? I know you can walk, but how long did it take for the limp to go away? Did you need crutches? Because you know that I did, and you know how long I needed them for.”

“How much did Lewis tell you?”

“You’re focusing on the wrong thi-“

“How much, Lando?”

The panicked edge to her voice had Lando pausing, looking closer at her face through whatever haze was over his mind.

“Just that,” he breathed. “He told me you’d needed stitches but were okay. He wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

The fist around Sadie’s heart relaxed slightly as she sighed with relief. “Okay, as long as it was just that.”

“You’re scared,” he stated like he’d only just noticed. His watercolour eyes were lit slightly by a nearby street lamp. They appeared hazel in that light and it was a detail Sadie wished she hadn’t noted.

“I’m paranoid,” she replied just as curtly.

“I was scared,” he admitted, breaking the eye contact.

“That’s fair. If your ankle didn’t heal properly, your career might’ve been over.”

“No, that’s not- Well I was scared about that but I meant that I was scared for you.”

Sadie frowned. “What? Why?”

“I didn’t know if you were okay! You put yourself on the line for me, you saved my life and I didn’t know if you were okay!”

“I didn’t save your life,” she scoffed. “It wasn’t headed for your heart.”

“I rewatched the footage,” Lando confessed with a sheepish smile. “If you hadn’t put yourself between me and the track? The debris would have hit me and my career could have been over.”

“Your career, Lando. Not your life.” Her voice was the softest it had been all night. It even surprised her.

“My racing is my life, Sadie.”

“I-“ but he cut her off.

“I never got to thank you in person.”

“You can do it now.”

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?” Her patience was slipping. She pulled another mask from the drawer.

“I think you’d take it as closure, or something. Then you’d leave and I would never see you again.”

He wasn’t wrong. She’d began to form a plan on how to give him the answers he needed, and then vanish again. He was a liability to her safety.

“Would that be so bad?”

“Yes.” No hesitation.

She didn’t know what to say to that. Sadie couldn’t bring herself and meet the gaze she could feel on her.

“Max almost punched a reporter,” Lando said.

That had her looking up at him, a confused smile on her lips.

“What?”

“In the media pen, Max almost punched a reporter that wouldn’t stop asking about you.”

A laugh bubbled out of Sadie. Max Verstappen? Protecting the young woman who had ego-checked him at Albert Park?

“I’m serious!” Lando insisted, but his smile was widening. “The guy asked every driver, but Lewis and Max had already told everyone to say nothing. The reporter was so frustrated at getting ‘no comment’ from every driver. Max’s interview was second or third last and the reporter asked something so out of pocket. If you find the interview you can see Max trying not to hit the guy.”

Sadie laughed again, and she caught Lando grinning in her peripheral vision.

“I did make him swear on his championship,” she commented it.

“What?” It was obvious that detail was also new to Lando.

“After the incident, while we were still at the track, I made Lewis promise to hide me from the media. Max visited my hotel room a few days later, and I made him swear the same thing.”

“On his championship?” Lando was trying to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah.” Sadie couldn’t hold back her own.

They laughed for a few minutes at the absurd notion of Max swearing anything on his championship.

“Jesus,” Lando sighed. “That makes so much more sense now.”

“What does?”

“I tried to find you, after a month. Fuck, I even tried to rope half the grid into helping me find you, but Lewis and Max always shut it down. They never told my why, but I guess that’s it.”

“I’m not going to apologise for trying to protect myself.”

“You’re good at protecting,” he said.

It wasn’t the most random comment he’d made that night but it was the one that stuck out the most.

Sadie didn’t know how to reply.

She didn’t have a chance to think about it when she saw a shadowy figure moving toward the car.

“Lando, get out of sight,” she warned.

He was too shocked by the immediate change in demeanour and topic.

“What?”

“Just- oh. Nevermind.”

As the figure came closer, they stepped into the lamplight and Sadie recognised Oscar Piastri.

“It’s Piastri,” she breathed.

Lando wound down his window and waved.

Oscar leant down, rested both arms across the opened window and glanced between them.

“Hey, how are you?” He began.

“Could be better,” Sadie quipped with a joking smile.

“I’m trying to convince her to stay,” Lando explained.

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Stay the night or-“

“No, Oscar!” Lando laughed and Sadie couldn’t help but like sound.

“He means in your lives. But I can’t.”

Oscar tilted his head sideways quizzically and some of his hair fell into his eyes. “Can’t or won’t.”

“Both.”

“You make it sound like you don’t have a choice,” he observed.

“She does,” Lando said at the same time as Sadie’s “I don’t.”

“Lando, I-“

“No, Sadie you do have a choice. Not every part of our lives is public.”

“I’m still very confused,” Oscar added.

Sadie’s patience slipped again. “Piastri, I fucked with some dangerous people, and I can’t let them find me. Lando, you don’t have a private life. If you’re not doing Formula One, you’re doing Quadrant; if you’re not doing Quadrant, you’re partying with Martin Garrix; and if you’re not partying, you’re posting something on Instagram. You live an incredibly public life, and that’s okay, but I can’t join that in any regard.”

Lando looked at her with stunned silence. Oscar was watching her with a very concerned expression. She pointed at him with an intense stare.

"You might think your life is fairly private, but when you post on social media everyone nit-pics at it because of how rare your posts are. And every sighting of you is scrutinised.”

A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth but he didn’t say anything.

Sadie pulled in a deep breath and pulled on another mask from the drawer.

“I’m sorry, to both of you, but I’m going to vanish again. I have to.”

“Are you in witness protection?” Oscar asked.

Sadie nodded with a frown. He’d put it together fast.

“When’s the court date?” Oscar’s deep brown were intensely focused on her.

“Wednesday, next week. I will be testifying anonymously.”

“So even if they have gang members who aren’t convicted, they won’t know it was you.” Lando pressed, catching onto Oscar’s train.

“Gang members?” Oscar’s went up an octave.

Sadie waved off the question and focused on Lando. “I see where this is going.”

“Then you can see why I’m right.” His eyes were set on hers, a hand set on the handbrake between them.

Sadie sighed and closed her eyes.

“All of the members who saw my face will be going on trial. A few of them have been convicted already.”

“So after next week, you won’t be in witness protection anymore.” Lando pressed.

“That will depend on whether they’re all convicted and how long their jail time is.”

As Sadie spoke, Oscar pulled out his wallet and an old receipt. He pulled a random marker from another pocket and wrote something on the back before handing them both to Lando. He took this hint and wrote something as well.

When he handed it to her, Sadie noted both their phone numbers and tiny signatures at the end of them.

“Text when the trial is over. Just a yes or no. A yes doesn’t mean that you’re going to to be thrust into the spot light. It’s a maybe.” Oscar said, running a hand through his brown hair.

“It’s a maybe I could thank you properly." Lando added. "A random dinner or a paddock pass to which ever race you want.”

That brought a small smile to Sadie’s face.

“Everyone at McLaren would want to thank you,” Oscar added, but there was a tightness to his jaw Sadie hadn’t noticed until then.

She caved.

“Alright maybe,” she said. “I’ll keep this but I'm not promising you anything.”

Oscar's soft smile said that's enough, but Lando's slight frown meant he wasn't ready to give up. Oscar noted it.

"Lando," he interrupted whatever the older driver was thinking. "Mum made chocolate cake while you were out and wants you to try it."

"She knows about our diets right?"

"She'll insist until you fly out."

Lando sighed with an amused smile and opened his door.

"I'm not going to say thank you, not yet. I'm not even going to say goodbye."

"It might be your only chance," Sadie reminded him.

Lando shook his head as he stood, brown curls waving in the small breeze. Oscar pushed his door shut gently and ducked his head back through the window.

They watched Lando walk away, oblivious to the fact Oscar wasn't on his heals.

"I saw it happen, at Silverstone," Oscar murmured. "I saw you make the choice."

"I didn't choose. I reacted. There was no choice, or thought process, or thoughts at all, actually. It was just an action."

"An action we're all grateful for, but-" His voice dropped, as if Lando would hear him if he was any louder. "- I want to thank you for making that choice, or doing that action, whatever."

"Stop," Sadie demanded. "Stop, Piastri."

He did. The first one to stop the first time she asked.

She pulled in a deep breathe and calmly explained, "I did what I did. It happened. I know you're all grateful, but it has to stay at that. This is not a movie, where a chance meeting leads to years of friendship."

"I wouldn't call being hospitalised for being a human shield, a chance encounter," Oscar noted dryly.

"You get my point," she replied.

"I do, and I think I understand." He stepped away from the car. "You have our numbers. Call us and we will be there."

Sadie smiled slightly but didn't give him any hope.

"Go, before Lando comes back out."

"It was good to meet you, Piastri."

"Good luck, Sadie."

With that, the handbrake was off, car in gear and she was gone.

----$----

I know y'all loved the Max/Sadie dynamic in chapters 1 and 2 so how about some more Max content next chapter? ;)

Masterlist…

Taglist; @snubug

[ryuki-draws]

How does having only half a brain left affect your survival odds in a Gundam? Time to find out!

N°3 was not meant to ever set foot in Asticassia but I decided she needed to join Geroge and Erik's emo band. I'm sure nothing bad will ever happen to her. (And I just wanted to draw her in a dress. As a treat.)

Rambling under the cut!

Marleen (name assigned by the researchers) has suffered severe epilepsy her whole life and anatomical hemispherectomy - surgery which removes parts of the brain that cause the seizures - was the last resort in effort to make the constant attacks stop. Unfortunately, the surgery was done at Claire's Peil under their enhanced person research program. So the now vacant space in her cranium was fitted with GUND implants and she was basically rolled off the operating table directly into a pilot seat of the company's prototype GUND format MS.

Luckily for her, having half a brain already running on the same format, the implants were able to process the information influx faster to a certain degree, thus making it possible to reach higher permet scores without getting what's left of her organic brain fried immediately. It is, however, not a solution to the overall problem - while the extra implants provide some added resistance, the data storm would still eventually kill her, even though it may take longer than previous subjects were able to withstand (RIP N°1 and 2). Plus, with her condition, permet score 3 and higher come with a risk of seizures unexpectedly returning while piloting, which opens a whole new can of problems.

When the duelling game started, she wasn't deemed suitable for a body double candidate and this ordeal was assigned to N°4 instead. She was, however, dispatched to school alongside him as a second year piloting student with a cover story of being a "test pilot" for Peil Technologies with clearance to participate in duels in non-GUND MS, unless instructed otherwise.

Additional assorted stuff (mostly EPs lore because I'm Unwell™)

the whole AU shenanigans primarly take place one year prior to the events of WfM, hence students with "K" designation in their ID number being second year, as opposed to third in the series

the duelling game started with the year of Miorine's admission to Asticassia, and with it the need for an EP body double to participate in the duels instead of Elan (who's a terrible pilot and would not be caught dead in a Gundam himself). There were three prior EPs at the research facility but N°4 was the first one who on top of everything has become a body double

when EPs outlive their usefulness to the company, they're sent back to the research facility, where they're further used as test subjects, as they may "still have research data worth obtaining in them." Deemed as truly expendable, they're first in line for anything too dangerous or unethical, but are not outright executed (no, I'm not over ep. 6, thanks for asking)

as mentioned in my previous posts, inspiration for Marleen's creation was Siri Keeton from the novel Blindsight by Peter Watts - who also had half of his brain removed due to seizures and replaced with implants - thus, the shared last name (the book is great, go read it. it's a sci-fi thriller and it has vampires in space! there's also a fan-made short film (4 minutes) based on the book worth giving a watch. this post is now Blindsight propaganda)

[shima-draws]

Now that I've had time to Absorb mentally. Several things.

-Luffy going from overeating to swearing off eating entirely. Homie that CANNOT be good for you. And the fact that he's willing to not eat unless it's Sanji's food...that's so. INCREDIBLY significant. Bc it's been very clearly established how much Luffy LOVES food. His stomach is literally a black hole. Eating gives him strength and makes him happy. He enjoys food so much he steals it off other people's plates. He's so impatient when it comes to meals that he'll sneak into the kitchen to try and mooch before it's ready. And now he's refusing all that...for Sanji. He's going to sit there and starve himself, even though he doesn't like being hungry, even though food is one of the most important things to him, even though he has a CHOICE to eat and he CAN eat but he's not going to because it's not food Sanji made for him. The fact that food is such a central part of Luffy's character and who he is, and that we know he never does anything he doesn't want to do, it just makes me. GODDD. Why is he like this why are they like this I'm insane

-THE FACT THAT THEY LITERALLY DID THE MONTAGE OF ALL THEIR MEMORIES TOGETHER. JESUS CHRIST. That was a low blow. And also the gayest shit I've ever seen. Yeah let's just drive it in even further how important these two are to each other and how much it's tearing them both apart that Sanji's leaving by showing all their wonderful moments together. I was literally full on SOBBING at this point. Fucking RUDE smh

-Sanji being SO self sacrificial makes me want to cry I CANNOT with him rn,, It's to the point where he feels like he can't even rely on his nakama because he just wants to protect them. Like he could have easily told them what was going on. But he decided he'd chase them away, for their own safety, because Zeff's already in danger and Sanji can't risk losing his crew too. He couldn't bear to see any of them get hurt by the family that's been tormenting him for years. So he hurts HIMSELF by pushing them away. He loves them so so much that he's willing to cut ties with them completely and make them hate him so that they'll stay SAFE. GOD. Except Luffy sees right through that act bc he knows Sanji too well 😭 The fact that even Nami didn't realize that Sanji was just trying to protect them makes me so emo she really did think he'd been lying to them all along...GIRL have more faith in your nakama!!

-Luffy refusing to give up on Sanji, not ever, I'm going to explode, that is HIS nakama HIS cook and he won't stop until he can bring him home. BASHING my head against the wall

-Also I already talked about The Line in my last post but here I'll share my tags

I need to be put down I think I am so unwell rn

[lovemyromance]

Azriel's Therapy Sessions (According to anti-Elriels)

Azriel: So my shadows informed me you are the one therapist in Prythian and I figured I'd make an appointment before the word gets out and I'm stuck at the end of the queue

Therapist: ok. What brings you here?

Azriel: I can't sleep

Therapist: why is that?

Azriel: i find myself constantly thinking of a beautiful female

Therapist: ah, but true love can never be a bad thing...

Azriel: it's not an ideal situation. She is mated to another

Therapist: ...except for this time. This time true love is bad. How dare you pursue someone else's mate? Have you no shame?

Azriel: ...but she doesn't even want him?!

Therapist: how dare you question the authority of the cauldron!

Azriel: the cauldron is wrong, actually

Therapist: who is this wretched female that has made you sin??

Azriel: Elain Archeron.

Therapist: jail. Immediate jail. Where is your high lord? We must cast you into the Prison island at once, lest you spread your... disease... to others

Azriel: my ... disease?

Therapist: yes. You are clearly unwell. You are off your rocker for having feelings for Elain Archeron.

Azriel: no she's amazing and lovely and kind

Therapist: this is a form of self punishment. You are tricking yourself into liking this woman because you aim for unattainbale women like The Morrigan.

Azriel: ... but Mor rejected ME. Elain hasn't rejected me.

Therapist: she returned your knife-

Azriel: but it was MY knife

Therapist: AND your necklace

Azriel: how did you know that-

Therapist: she hates you, clearly. Move on.

Azriel: but she-

Therapist: we need to admit you to a psych ward. You are confusing your lust for love. You are a danger to yourself and others. You must go train and heal before you ever get a book

Azriel: I literally have trained every day for the past 500 years... it's not fixing anything

Therapist: then try music ... go listen to that friend of yours, the preistess Gwyneth.

Azriel: I wouldn't go as far as to call her friend

Therapist: right because she's your mate

Azriel: WHAT?

Therapist: yes oops cats out of the bag! Now go get her

Azriel: I ... don't want Gwyneth. I don't think she's my mate either. I am literally the Spyamster of the Night Court - you think I wouldn't recognize my own mate??

Therapist: um but your shadows clearly love Gwyn and hiss and snarl and drop kick Elain!

Azriel: ... my shadows disappear around I feel comfortable with. Why would I be concerned they vanish around Elain, I love her

Therapist, pressing the big red button on her desk: yeah, I'm going to need to call security. This man is unhinged and needs psychological help.

Azriel: I hate therapy.

[somber-sapphic]

hey lovey! could you possibly do 3 and 11A from the prompts for wandanat or marina? you choose!

I was thinking they work themselves too hard until they can’t deny they are unwell. Then they collapse and terrify their girlfriends, and fluffy sick comfort after ❤️

Perfect Partners

〖Notes: Hi sweet anon! I'm so sorry, this one slipped through the cracks I just found it in my drafts and finished it up. Please forgive my medical words, I am very much not a medical professional, my knowledge all comes from Grey's Anatomy and Google. I hope you enjoy! (for some reason my Station 19 fics always get long)〗

〖Summary: What you thought was a cold lands you in the hospital.〗

〖Word Count: 1.9k〗

〖Pairing: Marina x Sick Reader〗

〖Warnings: IV, hospital setting -not sure if this is a real warning but hospitals terrify me so I figured I'd add it in-〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You slammed your fists against the punching bag, breathing heavily through your mouth as cold rivulets of sweat rolled down your back. Every few breaths were punctuated by a cough, but there wasn’t much you could do about that.

Maya had invited you to the gym, and while you both normally preferred to work out separately, it was her way of mending the argument you’d had the night before.

It was one you’d had frequently, where you would yell about her dangerous career while she bit back about your boring one. Carina hadn’t been home to mediate, leaving the two of you to fight it out on your own.

The blonde asked you to come to the gym as her way of extending the olive branch, apologizing for the way she had spoken to you. Your acceptance was your way of doing the same. You loved her so much, even with the fights. She understood that they came from a place of fear, and both of you felt guilty every time.

The firefighter had been glancing over at you for about twenty minutes now as you moved from machine to machine, listening to your wheezy breaths and heavy coughs. Of course, she knew that it was time to go home, but she was worried about how to bring it up.

Maya knew that you had a habit of getting defensive when it came to your health—probably a side effect of living with a doctor and a paramedic—and didn’t want a repeat of last night. However, as the morning went on, the woman was beginning to realize that it was time to get you home and into bed.

You threw another punch and gasped, a sudden sharp pain in your chest. You doubled over a bit and started to cough, unable to contain it. Luckily, the two of you were early enough that the gym was mostly empty, but the two or three other patrons cast you a disgusted look; one even stepped off his machine to move to the other side of the room. You couldn’t blame him.

“Woah, okay, your complexion is scaring me. Please sit down.” Maya’s hand fell on your back, and she eased you onto the floor, not shying away from your very sweaty self. Nevertheless, she rubbed between your shoulder blades until you were able to regain your breath.

“Okay, come on. Let’s go shower, then I’ll take you home,” the blonde said, her voice soft but firm. You groaned softly and shook your head, moving to check the tape across your knuckles. It had slipped a bit, but there wasn’t any damage to your hands. You hadn’t done a great job of wrapping them; you had been too shaky.

“No, you’re not done with your workout. I’ll just maybe sit, do one of the leg machines so that you can finish,” you replied, your lips fumbling over the words. You were still struggling to catch your breath, the combination of the workout and the chest cold not working in your favor.

“We’re done. Shower at home or here?” She decided, bracing your elbows to hold you up. The medic knew that she wouldn’t be able to discern your temperature until you cooled down from the workout, but based on how you had looked this morning, she was guessing that you at least had a little fever.

Maya was wracking her brain, coming up with every instance over the last few days that you had seemed even the least bit off. During your argument the night before, you had started to cry, but it was a hard topic she didn’t think too much of. Now that she was looking back, though, she was able to name probably ten instances where you had acted out of the ordinary.

She should have noticed it earlier and was already beating herself up over it.

You shrugged, not really wanting to shower anywhere. You were tired and felt gross, and now that it was all up in the air, you kind of wanted just to go home.

The blonde caressed your cheek and kissed your sweaty forehead, grimacing at the sweat covering your skin. It wasn’t the grossest thing she’d seen that week; her job generally consisted of dirt, smoke, blood, sweat, and other fluids, but it wasn’t lovely either.

“Okay, let's get you rinsed off really quick, and then we can go home.” You didn't have the strength to argue, so you just let her lead you into the showers, grateful that she was willing to help you undress and get under the cool stream. You weren’t thrilled by the temperature, but she had set it that way for a reason.

The shower was quick, just a short rinse before you were out again and wrapped in a towel. Thankfully, the clothes you’d shoved into the bag for the post-workout were much more comfortable. They consisted of Carina’s oversized Grey + Sloan Memorial Hospital sweatshirt and your favorite pair of sweatpants.

The shower had made you cold, so you were doubly grateful for the warm clothes, which you snuggled into without any hesitation.

Maya smiled fondly and kissed the tip of your nose, making you sneeze. You pouted a bit and lifted your head from your sleeves, mildly annoyed by the damp spot left from where you’d wiped your nose.

“Ew,” The blonde chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist. You leaned against her, not caring about the looks you got from a few store employees. It didn’t really matter anymore; you were going home.

When you arrived at the house that the three of you shared, you found it empty, a note left by Carina sitting on your counter. Maya deposited you on the couch before grabbing the note, sighing at the words scrawled in the brunette’s typically perfect handwriting. She didn't fit the stereotype of doctors' poor handwriting.

“Car was called in for some emergency surgery; looks like it’s just the two of us,” she said softly, walking around the counter to sit beside you. You scooted over to her and put your head on her chest, nuzzling into her sweater. It probably smelled like her, but your nose was too stuffy to smell anything.

You were only able to sit like that for a few minutes before you started to cough again, your breaths coming in harsh wheezes. Your chest was tight, and your lungs full of mucus.

Now that you were closer, Maya was getting even more concerned. Not only had your fever developed far too quickly for her liking, but she was also worried about your shallow, squeaky breaths.

“I’m going to get my bag. Stay put,” she ordered, not realizing that you wouldn’t be moving even if she asked, not without assistance at least.

The blonde raced through the house to find her medical bag, snagging it from the bedroom where she and Carina always kept them. When she returned, you were half asleep, drooling onto a pillow. Even with your pale gaunt face and red nose, she thought you were adorable.

Maya sat down beside you and pulled out her thermometer, which was quickly dragged across your forehead to reveal a temperature of 102.5. It wasn't drastically alarming, but it wasn't something that stemmed from a simple cold.

“Okay babe, sit up for me.” She coaxed, pulling you into a sitting position. You whined your displeasure, worrying the young woman. An hour ago, you had been working out, albeit not with any particular rigor or accuracy, and now you could barely hold your head up. This was an unexpectedly rapid decline, which was beginning to make her wonder if a hospital visit was in order.

The paramedic rested the stethoscope on your chest, listening to your crackling breaths with intense focus. She repeated the process on your back, shaking her head in mild frustration. When she leaned back, she hung the stethoscope around her neck, leaning forward to look into your eyes.

“I…I really don’t feel well.” You admitted, your voice barely audible.

“Looks like we’re going to visit Carina.” She said gently, earning a whimper from you. You had absolutely no interest in moving from your spot on the couch, but Maya had made it clear that you didn’t get a say in the matter.

“I know, but we don’t really have another option right now.”

It didn’t take long for you to find yourself lying on a cot in a hospital room, a bracelet around your wrist, an oxygen mask covering your face, and an IV in your arm. Most of it was a blur, but you certainly remembered a concerned Dr. April Kepner who had decided to take your case even after you were transferred to the hospital proper.

Now, you were curled up in a bed beside Maya, listening to whatever music she had decided to play on her phone. Carina had been updated on your condition and was supposed to be getting out of surgery in about an hour, but for now, you and Maya were making it work.

・.・✭・.・✭・.・✭・.・✭・.・

Carina rushed into your hospital room, devoid of her white coat. Her eyes were full of panic, which only diminished when she saw you smile.

“Cara mia.” She breathed, walking to sit beside you on the bed. There wasn't a whole lot of room with Maya lying beside you, but she managed. She carded her fingers through your hair and glanced at your monitor, watching the steady beep of your heartbeat.

“How bad are they?” the pediatric surgeon asked, keeping her voice quiet so as not to disturb you. You were sort of asleep, only slightly aware of what was going on around you. All you really knew was that the people you loved were beside you, bringing you immense comfort.

“When we got here, their O2 stats were in the 80s, temp 102.9. Kepner was in the pit; she did a chest x-ray. Looks like pneumonia. She has them on antibiotics and saline for hydration. The plan is to keep them overnight just to be safe and reevaluate in the morning,” Maya replied, mixing medical jargon with comforting her concerned girlfriend.

Carina let out a relieved sigh and smiled, leaning down to kiss your feverish forehead. You grabbed a fistful of her baby pink scrubs, not fully noticing what she was wearing. Even if you had, you didn’t care.

“Someone pushed themselves too hard, huh?” She murmured, settling down into the bed with you squished between herself and Maya. She didn’t even consider changing into real clothes; being with you mattered more.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to come to the gym with me.” The blonde said into your hair, laying her head on Carina’s fingers. The surgeon continued to drag her nails against your scalp, and Maya wrapped your fingers in hers.

“S’okay.” You whispered, settling further into the bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but it was much better with your girlfriends there. You didn’t even care about the argument between you and Maya the night before; it was one you’d had before, and you’d probably have it again.

Regardless, you loved the woman, and you always would. Every so often, you were reminded of just how lucky you were to be with the two of them. A doctor and a firefighter, the perfect partners.

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[one-strugling-bean]

So.

I finished the 4th season (MAG #160)

......I'm unwell

(part 3 of my Magnus Archives experience)

Ahhhhh where do i even start???? Ok, ok I think I'll start with the lesser things

First off, right off the bat, RIP Tim. More than ever, now I know he didn't have to die and I am so so sad he did..... Flirty boi deserved so much better u^u

Martin collected many moments of badassery throughout the 3rd and 4th seasons. Im so proud of his growth. Not him burning statements and snipping back at Elias - ahhhhhh he was so coooool, I wish someone else was there so that they could tell him! And when he made Fairchild sit back down to finish answering Martin's questions, I swear I got chills!!

Anyway. I continue being a fierce Martin fan, nothing new there

What is new is my newfound adoration for Daisy. Seriously. She's my baby now. Idc what happens or who dies, she needs to end this story okay :'))))

No, im 200% serious, if Daisy doesn't survive to the end, im def going to cry. Because i can totally see her being the "sacrifice herself so that everyone else will have a chance" type.

I swear she was the only one holding the brain cell power this season –  and FINALLY, someone who's not Martin is not being a bitch to Jon!!!

I wasn’t even expecting Jon to be able to bring her back. Much less for them to become supportive avatar besties! I’m so glad the writer decided to take that turn with her. It’s really satisfying from a narrative standpoint to have Daisy of all people do a whole 180 on her standpoint with Jon.

Idk, i just really liked her this season. She deserves all the hugs. So she gets a meme :)

Basira, on the other hand, fell a bit for me, but i think that was kind of the point. She was fierce and stony and nearly zero compassionate, – very Gertrude-ish of her –  but after everything that’s happened, i can't really blame her :/

Im just here praying to everything that the cop ladies can get a modicum of a happy ending

And just so I round up the gang, im scared for Melanie... She is now blind and also has (had?) a monster as a therapist. And Georgie doesn't feel fear which makes them even less likely to sense danger if it comes for them. I hope they're able to push through whatever season 5 throws at them

Okay. So only Jon is lef now. What can i say about him tho?? I mean, i can say he's been going through it.

Like, I spent my whole time hearing this podcast lowkey making fun of him for collecting beatdowns from pretty much every character - AND IT TURNS OUT IT WASN’T EXACTLY JOKING MATTER AND WAS ACTUALLY PLOT RELEVANT??

WHAT IS THIS SORCERY AND WHY IS IT MAKING ME FEEL BAD FOR VOICES ON MY PHONE??

I just feel so bad for Jon. The guy did not deserve all of this. He really was a lamb to the slaughter—a poor wet cat, an eternal damsel in distress, the Antichrist…?

That last statement from Elias/Jonah is so good tho. Like, objectively. I love it. Not only does it take the listener in a nice little trip down memory lane - nostalgia is always fun - but its also just. So evil.

They really gave us such a sweet start – Martin and Jon bunking together in a cabin in Scotland(?) seemingly happy and it's all "uwu, they sho cute, yada yada- and then BAM!! APOCALYPSE HAS BEGUN!"

(i could literally be here for hours coming up with titles for Jon. he makes it too easy.)

Elias though...... I was spoiled that he was Jonah Magnus halfway through season 2 or so, so the reveal wasn't a big deal for me. I wonder how shattering it was for listeners when it first dropped though... At least he upped his villainy cred this season. Suits him better than the "unbothered neutral/evil stand-by" vibe he gave before.

And one last character thing, I fell in love with Peter so quickly. His lines were all gold and his delivery even more so. He just had that unflappable vibe to him. Like he didnt have a care in the world.

Oh, and him and Elias totally had ex-wives who spent the last 10 years fighting about who gets what in the divorce energy.

No, i will not elaborate.

Uhhhhh yeah. I grew to appreciate Helen more and more every time they showed up. Simon Fairchild was surprisingly fun for an old man, Gerry deserved the freaking world (thank you so much Jon for burning that page) and i think that’s kinda it on my favorite “creatures and associates”

Im super excited for this last stretch. i wonder if TMA will stick the landing. I sure hope it does, and honestly trust it will.

Anywayyyyyy, off i go for those last 40 episodes. Wish me luck!

Finish testimony, or whatever