#there were things i wanted to get done today but instead ive just been sitting in my chair waiting for my brain to allow me to do SOMETHING

[scary-grace]

(secret) santa, baby - part 8 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii part ix

part viii (gift-wrapping)

You don’t know what the last-minute staff meeting is for, but the email looked important, so you show up outside the building’s biggest conference room on the hour, as ordered. As soon as you set foot inside, though, you know this was one you could have skipped. There are piles of gift bags and rolls of wrapping paper on every table, as well as packets of tissue paper and spools of ribbon and actual jars of confetti with scoops in them. On the whiteboard at the front of the room, someone’s written REMEDIAL GIFT-WRAPPING.

You didn’t think your gifts were wrapped that badly. Tomura hasn’t complained. Then again, Tomura doesn’t know you’re the one leaving his gifts, so he wouldn’t know who to complain to if he had a problem. In spite of showing up on time, everybody else somehow got here before you, so you hesitate just inside the doorway, looking for an empty seat. Before you can find one, something moves in your peripheral vision, and you glance over to find Twice beckoning to you. He’s sitting with Spinner, Dabi, and Tomura, and they’ve got an empty seat nearby.

A few weeks ago, you’d have found somewhere else, but you’re much more comfortable with Tomura and his friends than you were before. Seeing them outside of work at Toga’s party probably helped. Seeing them the next morning, waking up with bedhead and low-grade hangovers that could only be cured with diner food, moved them firmly from the category of scary coworkers to people you could call friends. And waking up at one end of Toga’s couch to realize that you’d spent the entire night sharing it and a blanket with Tomura moved him from Secret Santa recipient to something else.

You’re not sure what else, exactly. You’ve been keeping a close eye on him since the Secret Santa thing started, just so you could figure out good times to sneak down to the basement and leave things on his desk, but for the past few days you’ve felt different about seeing him out and about. Instead of being relieved, and using your next free second to race downstairs and plant a gift, you’ve gone to talk to him. Or you’ve stayed put wherever you were and hoped he’d come talk to you. He’s different at work than he is out of it, but now that you’ve seen him the other way, you can’t fail to see that the person who slept on the couch with you is there when he’s here, too.

Work doesn’t bring out the best in him, and work-related holiday festivities are even worse. You can hear him complaining as you make your way over. “I don’t need to learn gift-wrapping. The stuff I leave is fine.”

“No. Spinner’s gifts are fine. Yours look like you’re dropping off a sperm sample,” Dabi says. He’s organizing the pile of gift-wrapping supplies and ignoring the way Tomura swears at him. “It’s not going to kill you.”

“With everybody else here, Toga’s probably not just picking on us,” Spinner says. He spots you coming over and waves. “Hey. You got an invite, too?”

“My gift-wrapping must be worse than I thought,” you say. You drop down into the chair between Twice and Tomura. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Tomura glances quickly at you, then goes back to screwing around with a mostly-empty roll of ribbon. “You have a gift in your mailbox. I saw it when I checked mine.”

You didn’t put a gift in his mailbox today – it’s on his desk again, waiting for him whenever he gets back. You dropped it off after you saw him walk back on the way to the conference room. “I’ll look after we’re done with this. Does this happen every year?”

“No. It’s new.” Tomura scowls. “It sucks.”

“Hi everybody!” Toga’s standing on a chair at the front of the room, waving to catch the room’s attention. “Thanks for stopping by. It’s come to my attention that some of you guys don’t know how to wrap a gift to save your lives, and even though it’s the gift that counts, the way it’s presented matters, too! So for the sake of your Secret Santa recipients, we’re going to go over the basics of gift-wrapping –”

“And we’re going to practice on these,” Midoriya announces, holding up a clear plastic bin that’s full to the brim. “The gifts from the toy drive. Which we need to wrap anyway.”

“I told you we weren’t in trouble,” Spinner says to the group at large.

“No, we’re just free labor.” Tomura’s scowling worse than before. “I can’t wait to count my papercuts afterwards.”

“To help with this,” Toga continues loudly, “every table has at least one person who knows what they’re doing. Compress and Yaoyorozu will go over the basics, and then your group’s expert will help you get going.”

Where’s your table’s expert? You glance around, only to find everyone else looking at you. “We need to work quickly,” Iida announces, even louder than Toga. “It’s imperative that we get these gifts mailed this afternoon. If they’re delayed by the storm, they won’t reach their recipients in time. Do you want to be the reason why needy children go without presents this year?”

“Hey! Iida! That’s kind of harsh,” Midoriya says hastily. Dabi is snickering. “Just do your best, everybody!”

There’s a bin of toys under the table. Compress and Yaoyorozu order everybody to start with something in a box, since they’re easier to work with, but you have a bad feeling you’re the expert, and the things that are weirdly shaped are going to take longer. You take out a plastic dinosaur toy and get to work, listening with half an ear to the instructions. You don’t want to contradict anything they’re saying. It’ll slow things down, and based on the size of the toy bin, you can’t afford that.

You overhear the other supposed experts at the other table, and they seem pretty comfortable giving instructions, but you decide to keep quiet unless somebody asks you something. And somebody does. “Are girls born knowing how to gift-wrap or something?” Spinner asks, staring at the dinosaur toy you’ve successfully mummified in candy-cane wrapping paper. “How did you do that?”

“Practice, I guess?” You don’t really remember somebody teaching you. “It was probably just watching my mom.”

“Maybe you should handle all the weird-shaped shit,” Dabi says. He abandons the box he’s wrapping and starts sorting the toys in the bin. “I want to get out of here sometime this year and that’s not going to happen if you put me in charge of that.”

You nod and pick up the grotesque-looking nutcracker at the top of the pile. To your surprise, everybody else settles down to work quickly – even Tomura, who’s still scowling, and handling the wrapping paper like it might take a bite out of him. The other tables are chattering, but everybody at yours is quiet. Focused. When Midoriya swings by to pick up any wrapped gifts, he has to make two trips to collect all of them from you.

It’s not until you’re starting on the second round of presents that Tomura speaks up. “This isn’t so bad,” he says, and you almost amputate your finger in shock. “I thought it was going to be like that movie.”

“Which –” Dabi interrupts himself, then makes a weird noise. “The one where the guy’s cheating on his wife?”

“And he’s trying to get the clerk to gift-wrap that ugly necklace he bought for his mistress before his wife gets back?” That scene made you cringe. There are lots of scenes in Love Actually that make you cringe, but that one stands out. “Did he actually cheat on his wife or was he just trying to cheat?”

“He’s cheating.” Dabi measures out a huge scoop of glitter and drops it on top of the present he’s wrapping before he tapes the wrapping paper down. “My dad pulls shit exactly like that. Except he was fucking my boyfriend, not his secretary.”

You almost choke on thin air. “He – what?”

“That was ages ago,” Twice says. “They didn’t talk for like – five years. Then Dabi’s sister made them go to family therapy and now Enji makes up for it by giving Dabi money whenever he asks.”

“And when he doesn’t,” Spinner says. Dabi is making a face. “You’re better off, dude.”

“You know how Shigaraki hates Christmas? That’s how Dabi feels about Valentine’s Day,” Twice says. You probably would, too, if your dad had hooked up with your boyfriend. “If you’re still around by then, you can hang out with us. We always celebrate by maxing Enji’s credit card.”

If you’re still around by then. What does that mean? “Sounds fun,” you say, watching as Dabi adds two scoops of glitter to his next present. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“It’s there. We’re supposed to use it,” Dabi says. “The kids will get a kick out of this shit.”

“Yeah, but their parents will hate it.”

Tomura takes a scoop of glitter and pours it in the gift bag he’s been screwing around with. “It’s not about them.”

You remember who the gifts are for all at once. Kids in foster care, whose parents probably suck as a rule. They deserve to have some fun, and you’ve never met a kid who wouldn’t go crazy over a glitter bomb. When you start wrapping your next present, you add some glitter to it, too.

At some point the department heads come looking for all their employees, which is how you find out that Toga didn’t clear the meeting with anybody before she called it. Most of your table takes the opportunity to flee – Dabi first, then Twice, and Spinner after a second’s hesitation. Tomura stops halfway out of his chair when he realizes you’re not getting up. “Aren’t you leaving?”

“My supervisor hasn’t come looking for me yet,” you say. “And there’s still a lot to do.”

You know there’s work waiting for you back at your desk, but it shouldn’t take too long, and Iida’s guilt-trip about the presents definitely got to you. You empty the rest of the toy bin onto the table and grab a box with a model train printed on the front. A chair scrapes next to you as Tomura sits back down, and he lifts the train box out of your hands. “Give me that. I can’t wrap the weird ones.”

You stare at him. You can’t help it. “What are you doing?”

“My supervisor hasn’t come looking for me, either.” Tomura shrugs. “It’ll be faster if I help.”

“You hate this stuff,” you say.

“I’m not going to be the reason needy kids don’t get presents this year.” Tomura’s Iida impersonation is pretty on point, especially when he adds in Iida’s trademark hand gestures. You laugh. “And I haven’t gotten a paper cut yet. Nobody will put up with my bitching next year if I don’t get at least one.”

He says that, and it sounds like him – but somehow you don’t buy it. He’s not making eye contact, and his ears are turning sort of red, and your heart kicks up a weird, fluttery jolt. “If you want to hang out, you can just say that,” you say. “You don’t have to do – I know you hate doing this.”

“This is what you’re doing,” Tomura interrupts you. “That’s the important part.”

That one’s hard for you to parse, so hard that Tomura manages to wrap the train and start on the next gift before you can get even sort of a handle on it. And once you do, you’re not sure you want one. Tomura hates Christmas. Every Christmas thing you’ve seen him do has been done under pressure or threat, and he just got a golden opportunity to escape. Why would he give it up to hang out with you?

There’s one answer. An obvious answer. One you’d believe if it was coming from anybody but him. “I can use the help,” you admit. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Yeah.” Tomura reaches for the wrapping paper at the same time as you do, and your hands collide. You thought he’d flinch. You thought you’d flinch. But your hands stay still, poised against one another, for a long moment before Tomura draws away, his fingertips skimming the back of your hand as he goes. “Any time.”

<- part vii part ix ->

[normalbirb]

Having adhd is like being stuck in rooms with no exits and then told by neurotypicals i should have just done like them and walked through a door

[enwoso]

CHANGED — arsenal wfc x lionesses!reader

now i swear someone requested this but i literally can’t find the request in my inbox at all and i’m actually starting to think ive gone crazy and that i dreamt this request but anyways part two for hyper cause if i dreamt the request or not i loved it for what i can remember of it🙃

read hyper here

masterlist

it had been a few weeks since your chat with leah, and slowly your behaviour had started to change and not for the worse. but for the better!

it took a few more scoldings from leah and kim for doing  silly things like, putting food colouring in pelovas shampoo or folding over all the pages in emily's book she was reading or when kept interrupting steph when she was filming a thirty second clip for the media team it ending up taking the australian thirty minutes to film the video instead of a minute.

but after one to many sit downs with leah and kim something clicked in your head and your mischievous acts slowly stopped.

so much so that in the first few days when you hadn't pulled a joke on anyone, the arsenal girls were wondering if you were sick or if something drastic had happened.

the girls feeling on edge about not having to check over their stuff or checking over door handles incase you had gotten to them before they had.

“y/n are you sure your not sick, there’s no way you’ve just turned down kyra’s attempt to cause havoc again!”

“i’m a changed women stephy! that’s the old me!”

and while you were technically a changed women it was all because of that big goal you had looming over your head. that you wanted to reach.

getting to the euro 2025.

yeah you still pulled a small harmless joke like scaring alessia whenever she came around a corner but that was just banter plus her face every time you did it was priceless.

plus leah said you were allowed to have some fun!

"you've had a good session today y/n" kim complimented you as she sat down next to you in the changing room you busy taking off your boots, kim felt a lot more relaxed the past few weeks not having to look over her shoulder every time she took a step in the training ground.

"thanks kim" you smiled at the captain, "let's hope you have another masterclass this weekend ey?" she nudged you as a small laugh came from you as kim was bringing up your two goals you got last weekend in the league.

"i hope so" you shrugged, your mind wasn't really on the weekend as much as it should you were more concerned about if you were going to get the phone call tomorrow or not, which would determine where your family were having their summer holiday.

"you thinking about the getting the call up?" kim asked quietly knowing your head was clearly somewhere else due to your lack of chattiness, normally your teammates would have a hard time getting you to stop talking.

you hummed as you nodded, kim bumping her shoulder into yours. "you'll get the call up, there's been a massive improvement in you over the last few weeks y/n"

you looked up to kim, seeing a genuine look on her face, "i mean it, and not only on the pitch but off the pitch too!"

"gosh your full of compliments today kimmy! did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed" you joked as you watched kim roll her eyes a small scoff coming from her.

"anddd she back! there's the y/n i know!"

it was the next day and it was safe to say you hardly slept spending too long up thinking about what you would do if you didn't get the call up, all those extra sessions, all those days spent trying to change your behaviour would have been for nothing.

but also thinking about what you would do if you did get the call up, how happy you would be and how proud your family would be of you.

walking into the colony you were tired, you were dragging your feet as your walked. your body feeling tired and you hadn't even done anything today yet.

grabbing your usual breakfast and slouching down on a chair on the closest table. "heard anything yet?" you looked up to see leah raising her eyebrows at you. shaking your head you began to eat praying it would wake you up a little.

"the list doesn't get posted until 12 so—" you hummed along with whatever leah was saying before you along with the other who were sat on your table fell into your usual small talk.

"y/n! your phones ringing!" alessia tapped you on the shoulder, your eyes snapping to the phone screen an unknown number on the screen.

"well answer it then!" leah said quickly as you scrambled to answer. standing up and walking over to the stand in the hallway where you'd be able to hear whoever was calling better.

leah, along with beth, kim, lia and alessia were all looking trying to decipher what you were saying and what the scenario was.

"do you think she's got the call up?" beth whispered as leah was trying so hard to lip read what you were saying but was really having no luck as she hadn't a clue what you were saying.

"surely, she'd be a great addition to the squad for the euros" alessia pointed out as beth hummed, along with lia and kim nodding along.

"oh she'll be gutted if she doesn't get it" lia sighed as kim give a knowing look. while she was silently praying for you hoping that you would as she dread to think about your reaction if you didn't get it.

"will you shut up i'm trying to listen!" leah huffed as she scowl at the group before going back to try her lip reading again it feeling as though you'd been standing in that hallway on the phone for the last hour when in reality it had been probably less than ten minutes.

"how is she able to hear when there's a wall there-" alessia whispered in beth's direction as beth shrugged waving off what leah had just said.

"right act normal she coming back-" leah spoke fast turning her body back around to the position she was sat in when you left trying to make out that she hadn't just been intensely staring at the conversation you were having on the phone.

"oh no she doesn't look very happy-" lia whispered, you walking in a small frown on your face. as your shoulders were hanging low as you sighed sitting down in your original seat.

"oh- y/n i'm so sor—"

"I'M GOING TO THE EUROS BABY!" you cheered, your face changing in a split second from a frown to a big cheesy grin as the canteen when quiet for a minute as they all processed what you'd said.

the girls all jumped up hugging you and congratulating you as they told you how proud they were of you.

“what did sarina say?” beth asked as the celebrations calmed down and everyone had sat back down.

“she just said she’d seen how well i’ve been playing and she thinks i could be good option for a game changer at the euros” you said with the same smile, it not leaving your face and probably wouldn’t be for a long time.

leah sat listening to you as you recalled the phone call over to them, as she sat like a proud mother. "yes kiddo! switzerland won't know what has hit them!"

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 17

part 1, prev part

Wayne’s hands are clenched so hard they’re starting to hurt. Wrapped around the wrist of burning anger. His nephew’s eyes boring into his soul, filled with confusion. Resentment and fear.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Eddie was supposed to wake up slowly. Calmly. Surrounded by people he loved. Bringing him back into a world he was almost lost to. There were going to be questions, there were going to be answers. But, anger, Wayne was refusing to believe it.

“Son, calm down,” he tries to reason with the anger in Eddie’s eyes. “You’re not in danger here.”

Eddie’s eyes blink blankly. As his nostrils flare with struggled breaths. Arm pulling away from Wayne’s, trying to break free.

“Fuck you,” he mutters. With all the energy in his soul. Taking everything to insult instead of praise.

In his heart, Wayne knows that these words aren’t true. That the confusion and pain is lacing Eddie’s speech. Keeping him from seeing things properly. Keeping him from reducing that instinct deep in his mind to run and fight.  

Eddie’s always been a runner, ever since he was a kid. Ran away from home all the time to get away from the world. To the woods, to the quarry. Any place where he could get some peace and quiet from the taunts and threats. Where it was just him and his mind, however restless they were. Where he could forget about it all for a while.

It wasn’t a surprise to Wayne that Eddie ran that night. He would have done the same thing. But part of Wayne wishes that Eddie had come to him. So they could figure it all out together. Make a plan that could have saved him from this tormented state. Kept him alive without this ongoing pain.

He sees it in the way Eddie becomes so exhausted from the fight that he falls asleep. Arm finally laying to rest in Wayne’s grip. Body relaxing and returning to the peace Wayne craves for him. Not knowing how much of it will come in the future.

The nurse reinserts the IV into Eddie’s arm. As he pulled it out shortly after gaining consciousness. Scared by the hospital setting. By Wayne. By everything.

Eddie isn’t awake quite yet, Wayne tells himself. There is no way his boy could be awake and angry at him like this. He doesn’t want to believe it.

“Why don’t we talk outside,” the nurse says to him kindly. Sharing a small piece of sympathy with him.

Wayne stands without wanting to. Part of himself glued to that chair, forever stuck in that moment. Where the kind eyes he’s raised were hidden away.

“I am truly sorry for what you just saw, I’m sure it was jarring.”

All Wayne can do is cross his arms and nod. Listening carefully to the nurse with his eyes fixed on the door’s window.

“This form of anger and confusion is not uncommon for patients waking from a coma. Often times, they experience a form of amnesia that takes away the memories right before they came here. And after the brain loses consciousness for as long as Eddie’s has, it can cause more confusion than answers. He doesn’t mean what he says and does, it’s just his body’s response.”

“This amnesia,” Wayne swallows. “How long will it last?”

The nurse makes a sorry expression. “It varies. For some patients, only a few hours, for others, a few days. But now that Eddie’s awake, he’s been healing much faster than the doctor first anticipated. I have no doubt that it will pass soon.”

Wayne nods, thanking the nurse for her time. She leaves him standing in front of the door. Wagering how much pain his heart can take today, and whether he can stand to sit in that chair any longer.

His feet lead him to the payphone. Pulling out just enough quarters for one call, and a crumbled piece of paper with a number scrawled on it. The ringing in the phone reminding him of the sounds outside his head.

“Yeah.” The voice on the phone greets.

“Is this Jim? It’s Wayne. Munson.”

There’s a slight chuckle across the line. “I know who you are, Wayne. Yeah, it’s me. How can I help you?”

“I’m not quite sure. Don’t quite know what’s goin’ on, or why I called you. Just needed some company, I guess.”

“How about you come over to my place,” Jim says after a pause. “If that’s alright with you. We can have a chat with a change of scenery.”

Wayne lets out a shaky breath. “I think that would be nice.”

Jim relays his address before hanging up the phone. Wayne repeating it under his breath as he drives. Not wanting to forget it. The gas light blinking at him as it crawls towards empty. He can’t think about that now. There are already too many things on his plate.

A woman with a warm, inviting smile answers the door. Invites Wayne into the house with the promise of a cup of coffee, leading him to the back yard. Where Jim sits on a chair mismatched from the others. Staring off into the woods.

“Have a seat,” Jim offers with a cigarette.

Wayne takes it with more indulgence than should be necessary. His empty pack still burning a hole in his pocket.

“The weather’s been really nice these last few days, starting to really warm up.”

Wayne releases a long breath, letting the smoke fill the air in front of him. “I guess so.”

He hasn’t really taken notice.

“You meet Joyce?”

Wayne nods.

“Thing is between the two of us,” Jim motions back to the house. “Is that we both know what it’s like to have a kid go through all this hospital bullshit. We know the kind of pain that it brings, seeing them hurting and being helpless to it. It’s not something you’re alone in.”

That doesn’t stop him from feeling alone. Like he’s walking a path rocky and untamed. Vulnerable in ways he’s not used to and afraid to be. Wanting to be the strong pillar for those around him, but cracking in the foundation.

The grass crushes under footsteps as Joyce approaches. Places the mug on the table with stolen diner sugar packets and creamers.

“I didn’t know how you liked it, so I brought options.” She sits beside Jim, folding her hands in her lap. “I heard about Eddie. I’m so sorry. It’s terrible that he’s going through this.”

Wayne nods, staring at the table. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“When my Will first went missing, it was the worst day of my life,” Joyce continues. Bringing her own experience to the table. “I didn’t know where he was, or if he was hurt. How he was going to be when he got back. It’s something I would wish on no parent. At any age.”

There’s this anger that wants to block out what she’s saying. Scream that she doesn’t know his situation. Doesn’t know the pain he’s in. How could she, his situation was unique to him.

But so is hers. And so is Jim’s. And Wayne’s eyes are fixed on a cup of coffee and a cigarette given in kindness. An offering of help for someone who is too proud to ask for it. To admit that this is breaking him.

“Seeing him so weak in that hospital bed,” Joyce speaks through quiet tears. “It was so hard. Seeing him so changed, fighting to stay the same boy that he was before. Knowing that he saw things that I couldn’t even imagine.”

Maybe it was easier to break with people who bear their cracks so openly. Share vulnerabilities so Wayne can be vulnerable too.

“I know what you mean.” Wayne wants to recoil when he hears the wetness in his voice. But he continues. Wanting the burden to be shared so he can breathe a little easier. “Seein’ him today, so full of confusion and fear, it broke me.

“Is he starting to wake up?” Jim asks, genuinely.

Wayne nods, ripping open the sugar packets with shaky hands. “Slowly. I thought it would make it all easier, but it’s not. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to recover from this.”

“You will,” Jim speaks with hardened certainty. “Over time, you’ll start to heal. Forget the pain of the moment. But the real pain, the memories of their faces through all of this, those never quite leave. You just learn to give them less hold over you.”

Joyce reaches and grabs Jim’s hand, threading their fingers together and comforting him. “What matters is that you don’t have to go through this alone. We’re the only people our age who know what really happened, what these kids had to go through. Some of it we don’t. But we make a point to be there for each other, that includes you. It includes Eddie.”

“I appreciate that.”

Wayne lets the coffee cool in his hands. The conversation resulting in silence. Letting the sounds of the forest overtake them. Letting the fresh air travel through their lungs. Wayne finding peace with the forest in front of him. Watching as the birds circle and chirp as the light starts to dim. Returning to their homes for the night.

He knows it’s time to return to his own. Leave Jim and Joyce to their night and stop being a bother. But his home is still a shitty motel that he’s racking the bill up on. Trying to pay as much off as possible when his checks come in, but it’s slim pickings.

And he’s so tired of the isolation. Relaxing into the comforting feeling of sitting in silent company. Or by sitting next to anyone at all. The kindness of somewhat strangers makes Wayne feel more at home than he has in weeks.

Somehow, he ends up inside with a plate of leftovers in front of him. And then on the pull-out couch for the night. Falling in a deep sleep, where he tries to ignore it all for just a few hours. Let his body rest the way it needs.

next part

Note: I'm back! Thanks for being patient during my little break there, I needed it. But I'm back in action and (for once) a little ahead in my writing. We'll see how long it lasts, but it's good for now. Double note: I think that conversation between Jim, Wayne, and Joyce is one of my favorite ones I've written for this fic.

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[whtepony]

hi!! i love ur work !

so random request but i was wondering if you could write how denki or sero would comfort you if you were clearly going through something, like distancing , sleeping all day, being overly quiet, the whole thing. ive been going through alot lately and it would be greatly appreciated if you could! completely understand if not!!

✮ that funny feeling

ft. denki kaminari x gn reader

warnings: depressive themes

notes: anon i’m so sorry it’s taken me forever to get to this 😭 i hope you’re doing better!!! also yeah bo burnham title bc i cannot EVER title things ugh (divider from @cafekitsune)

denki kaminari is observant when he wants to be, meaning that he notices almost immediately when you start to distance yourself. at first, he kind of assumes he’s done something to hurt your feelings. it starts with cancelling your plans once, then twice - taking hours to respond to his texts, then avoiding them all together. choosing to eat dinner alone in your dorm instead of with him. when you skip class for the third day in a row without so much as a “hey, won’t be there today” text, he thinks he’s really fucked up. how could he possibly fumble you this hard and have no clue how it happened?!

when he realizes no one has heard much of anything from you lately, denki resolves to find out what’s going on asap. he’s knocking on your door before he even considers that you might prefer a check-in over text, but you crack open the door anyway. if he’s shocked at your appearance he doesn’t show it - from the looks of you, that’s probably the last thing you need right now. he smiles big and his shoulders relax a bit seeing that you’re at least alive although in a brief panic, he definitely did worry about that for a second or two. “you mind if i come in?”

you sigh deeply and open the door wider for him, your face flushing in embarrassment as he steps inside and closes the door behind him. there are clothes strewn about the floor, papers and trash littering several surfaces, and probably a dozen empty water bottles on your nightstand. “i uh, just wanted to come check on you - i’ve been worried, y’know?” and you do know, and you feel awful about it, on top of everything else. you fiddle with the hem of your hoodie, sitting on the wrinkled edge of your bed. you nod, clearing your throat a bit before speaking. “i dunno,” you shrug, the bed dipping under his weight next to you, “guess i haven’t felt that good lately.”

denki tilts his head to the side, offering you a small smile. “really? you could’ve fooled me, you look incredible!” his voice is tender and you know there isn’t any underlying insult - he genuinely just wants to make you laugh. you do, although it’s more like a sharp exhale, but his smile grows wider at the small success. he gently pulls you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you securely. you sigh and busy your head into his chest, instantly feeling lighter than you had in weeks. “you want me to order us something to eat while you go have a shower?”

“…yeah, that sounds nice.”

[hearts4werka]

Graduation Surprise

- 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 : 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 -

Summary: Today was the day you’ve been working for very hard, graduation day. You don’t know how but managed to graduate with the highest GPA in your class, if you couldn’t think things could get bad now, they did. After some issues occurring in your family, none of your family members attended your graduation. Thankfully there were your friends who could attend and filled up the spots in the room, cheering me on the whole day as I finally gave the biggest speech of my life. A surprise celebratory graduation dinner is hosted by your friends at a fancy restaurant, but little did you know there was more to come in the surprise…

Warnings: mentions of suicide, grief over the passing of a loved one, family issues, ?mentions of verbal abuse?, swearing and possibly more that may trigger some readers!

- > This was requested by this anon request so big thanks to them for the idea!

Today is the best day of my life, and the worst. Its graduation day. Its not like I havent done good in school, quite the opposite actually, I'm graduating with the title of the top student with the highest GPA in my class. With this big of an achievement, I couldnt be more happy with my life but for as much as I am feeling eternal happiness with myself, theres this small pit inside of me that dreaded this day for as long as my mother was not speaking to me.

After the one unfortunate day I've had enough of her blaming for evey small little misfortune happen in her life, finally standing up for myself and telling her how I feel about her constantly victimizing herself like she isnt the problem, now slightly backfired on me. From how bad the argument ended up to be she refuses to attend the most important day of her own daughters life, graduation day. Even with all of my success achieved at my age she still calls me acomplete dosgrace to this family and a failure, Ive done all in my power to prove her wrong and I did but her opinion seems to remain the same about me.

I've cried and vented about it all to my best friend, Chris who seems to be the only person who has my back and always denies any of my mothers hurtful words, always cuddling me in his arms until my sobs calmed down to a substainal level or until out of exhaustion I fell unconcious, it wasnt our first fight but it never was this bad as it was this time to cut off any speaking words between us. We all used to be the perfect picture family everyone wanted to be like us, looked up to us but ever since my father left us and not awhile after commited suicide it all has flipped my world around, only bad things came my way after that unfortunate event accured and I used to agree with all of my mothers claims that it was all my fault, that I wasnt a good enough daughter to him and that I ddidnt love him enough.

I loved him more than I could love anyone ever, he was the man I looked up to everyday and wanted to be him one day. To make him proud of me, I hope he is looking down at me and smilling at my accomplishments with me. No matter how hard I fight back the pricking tears swelling in my eyes whenever I think of him, I just cant fight them long and would go so far to have a breakdown when I'm hanging around Chris cause I know he;s the one person who wont judge me and instead of asking if im okay, will just scoop the sobbing mess ive made of myself and cradle me until I calmed down.

• 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

As I nervously stand in the line to finally receive my diploma, my fingers fiddling with my gown I glance around the crowded area filled with the rest of the students parents and loved ones I spot Chris, Matt, Nick, Quen, Larray and Madi sitting in black chairs as the amazing people I am glad to call my friends with full proudness spread across all of their faces, cheering me on from the distance and silently reassuring me everything is fine. I chuckle silently as a small smile rises on my face, the nervousness still swirling on my face but now overcomed by the excitement and pure happiness the most important day has finally came.

Next to all of them is a single empty chair left as I imagine my father sitting down on it, or his deceased ghost, smilling and clapping with all of the others. I feel his looming presence in the air which makes it just sweeter and better to breathe into my lungs. As I stepped closer and closer to the final point, I breathed in a sharp breath before steppng onto the stage and being handed the diploma ive wanted to hold in my hands for so long, I am ripped out of my thoughs as I hear very loud cheering and my eyes rip away from the piece of paper in my hand and notice all of my friends standing up, applauding and cheering as loud as they were allowed to.

My face immediately lights up at the sight, giving them a quick wave before proceeding with the remainder of the graduation ahead of me. Shaking the professors hands with silent 'congratulations' and 'thank you's passed by before I take a seat next to the other honoured students next to the stage, getting ready to at the end of the event present a speech. Not all of us are giving one since not everyone wanted or agreed to do one, I keep on thinking of what I could possibly say on the stand, which words to let fall from my lips and whic are inappropriate to speak out loud.

I listen to the other students speeches, most of them thanking their family for all of the support they received during this path in their life up until this moment, how they achieved what they managed to in this journey. Before I know it, its my turn and my name gets called up on the stand for now my speech, with a shaky breath I stand up from my seat and make my way over to the last thing I need to do before finally graduating from college and moving on with my life.

Clearing my throat to seek any hidden motivation and confidence in the dark shadowy corners of my mind to put it towards this speech but the only positive thing thats surrounding the tense air around me is the comforting presence of my father, oh how I would love for him to witness this moment and live in it with me right now. I'm doing it again, I'm thinking about my father too much that I wont be able to speak, I take another deep breath to regain the lost confidence before I finally begin my speech and loose myself in the words which just start to flow past my lips.

"Um Hi everyone, so today is an inportant day for all of us which is graduation day. Thank all of you for coming here and supporting your child, finally receiving that diploma they worked so hard to achieve and hold in their hands. I would really love to thank my amazing friends who came along to give me the support I needed in this day, but there is one more person I would like to thank..." I let out a shaky exhale before I continue on. "I would love to thank my dear father who didnt have the fortune to be here today due to a very sensitive topic for many of us so to not make this too long I wont get into detail."

"He was my hero, the person I looked up to all my life and the best father you could ever ask for. I know he is looking down at all of us and is so proud of evey child inside of this building, even if its not his, he always made sure to include everyone in the smallest little things who to the average person wouldnt matter as much as it did to him. If youre somewhere here with us dad, I just have one last thing to say to you before they kick me off this stage for making this too long. I love you with all of my heart and dedicate this whole journey and diploma to you." raising the diploma in my hand into the air, small tears prick my eyes as the whole room breaks into cheers and everyone applauding me and I havent felt better in my life.

I step off the stage and reunite with my friends, passing through the crowded area before I immediately fall into Chris's open arms. Everyone joining the hug and continuing to praise my beautiful speech with all kinds of kind words that just go straught to my heart as if taking it into warm arms and never pulling away. "That was absolutely amazing, like im shocked by how heart-spoken those words were" I hear Nick state in a proud tone with a slight undertone of joking to lighten up the mood as the rest of the others chime in with their own words as we all pull away from each other. "Girl we are so proud of you." Larray speaks up louder than the others and pulls me into a seperate hug of his own, soon everyone else follows behind now with Chris being left for last.

Without hesitation he grabs ahold of my waist and pulls me into his chest, his face burying into my hair and inhaling the sweet scent left behind from my shampoo i've used this morning. I nuzzle my face into his chest and breathe in the scent of his cologne I always love smelling, its my favorite out of all of the previous ones he had in the past. "I am so proud of you, sweetheart. You totally nailed it at making the whole room cry, including us." He admits while speaking against my hair, a soft chuckle following suite which also makes me chuckle as well as the others around us, we stand in each others arms fir a few more minutes before finally pulling away.

"Now its time for celebratory dinner!" Matt cheers as the group chuckles at his enthusiasm, we wait for the whole ceremony go come to an end and everyone will be allowed to go home before we make our way out of the building alongside all of the others. All of us split and go out separate ways to get ready for the dinner, I don’t know what to expect since they didn’t tell me much besides the fact we’re going to a dinner at some kind of restaurant after my graduation but they informed me before-hand to dress up elegant so my mind started to assume the different places we could go dine at.

! -- boom boom -- !

I relax under the hot water spraying onto my body from the shower head secured to the marble wall, there’s about an hour before they will be knocking at my door to pick me up. Still, I take my sweet time with my shower as it washes all of the stress and nervousness away in the form of hot water droplets dripping from my nude body. Switching off the shower and stepping out of the shower I wrap a fluffy tower around my torso, absorbing the water that was left behind on my skin as I scout around the room, finishing up the business I needed to get done in the bathroom before I leave my towel to dry and walk out of the bathroom.

My eyes land on the black asymmetrical dress lying down on my bed that Chris gifted me not so long ago, now got me guessing if he was planning this before-hand. Alongside with a white pearly necklace with matching earrings that was also a gift but a bit of an old one now coming from my father before he passed away, I still kept the suicide letter he left for me and put them on top of it so I am reminded of how valuable this gift actually is each time I put them on. Now lastly a silver watch with two rings - 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 https://pin.it/2tcBbHAtN

I’ve precisely lied down my outfit to get a visual of it, expecting I would use most of my time in the showerWalking over to imy wardrobe I pick out a fresh parei of underwear with a bra to matcabd a bra, quickly slipping both ite,s onto my body before now moving onto the official outfit. I havent had the dress on yet since I didnt really have a specific reason to put it on but today its a special day and that calls for a special outfit, the dress fits my body like a glove and is tight in all of the right places. walking to stand infront of my full-body mirror I become immediately obsessed with how it looks on me, and quite surprised on how did Chris pick out thus dress possibly all by himself? maybe i underestimaded his knowledge about me all along.

I complete the whole outfit with putting on the rest of the accesories before moving on to my shoes, I've got there old red-bottom heels from my mother which she gave to me for a 'special date with a special someone' but I already know what she was implying and I wasnt so much against it. the idea. I put them on and now go to the next step, makeup. I step back inside my bathroom and start on my makeup, in the same time thinking of what I could possibly do with my hair and in what style I can style it today, especially for my graduation dinner. For some reason I feel like I need to look my best no matter what, so I really take my time whit perfecting my makeup and deciding to do a basic blow-out with my hair once again making sure everything is in place.

Moving onto the final finishing touches, spraying my favorite perfume on my pulse points where it will ill give off the mossmot scent. i check the time on my watch and realize I dont have hvae much time left so I quickly get out of the bathroom, disconnecting my phone from the charger in my bedroom and drop it into my purse which was laying down next to it. With a rush in my move and few minutes to spair before expected knocks on my door, I take some pictures in the the mirror to appreciate how I look tonight. I basically dart to my door as the 'were waiting in the car outside' pop up on my phone screen and revealing the cute wallpaper I have of a photo with Chris, I admire it for a second before moving onto the tast at hand. Exiting the building I see Matt's car waiting outside with everyone inside but with just enough room left for me, they all great me with simple hi’s and hello's but the tone of their voices changing the meaning of them, turning them into more heartfelt greetings. Matt turns the engine back on and we leave from under my apartment complex, chatter and small banters starting to rise in the air of the car.

! -- boom boom -- !

We pull up into a parking lot of a very fancy restaurant and the building from the outside looks already amazing, we all step out of the car. Chris quickly walks up to my side of the car and grabbing my hand, helping me get out of the car. I chuckle with the rest of the group who witnessed it, as all of us are out of the car we make our way up to the front entrance. Nick turns to look at me walking with Chris in the back, "We hope you like it here, it legit took us a month to get a resarvation here." he states with an uplifting tone to his voice, silently appreciating all of the good energy and how they took the time out of their day to scheduel this is so heartwarming to me. "This place looks absolutely amazing, I dont know how you guys did it." I admit, admiring the outside in awe at how it looks in the night with all of the lights turned on, the slight dribble of the waterfountain outside is heard in the background as we finally enter the restaurant.

One of Chris's hands is resting on the small of my back, a warm fuzzy feeling lingering behind it each time he takes it off. I notice for some reason all of the others whenever see our closeness with each other today, it seems like they know something I dont and I'm just itching to ask and admit Ive noticed it but I bite my tongue back and dont say a word about it. Observing the interior design inside, we sign in for our reservation and a polite lady walks us to our table. All of us sit down and have the menu already infront of us, picking it up and flipping through the pages to find something I might enjoy here since I’ve never eaten here before so it will be good for me to try something new from time to time.

I glance around the restaurant, still admiring all of the guests nicely dressed in suits and dressed of all sorts and the interior just screaming luxury and money in general. Ots not my first time seeing luxury in my life but by the looks of the restaurant you cant tell someone has taste in interior design. My eyes go back down onto the menu and come to a desicion on what I should try here, soon the waiter approaches us and takes everyones order before walking away. The table errupts into chatter, some banter and laughter being thrown around evetywhere, positive energy flowing through the air and rising the atmosphere. Everything was perfect so far, amazing even, sjtting at a restaurant with all of my friends I deeply care for while having fun at the same time is such an amazing feeling to have inside of you and hope the others are experiencing it as well.

Before we get the grasp of the time flying by, soon our food arrives and everyone goes in. Tasting the various flavors and textures delivered in the meal, the sounds of satisfaction fill the air as all of us consume our prepared meals while chatting in between. We’ve been in the restaurant for quite awhile now and our stay is soon going to come to an end as we finish our meals then wait for our check to arrive, as we wait I notice the groups eyes shifting from me to Chris and confusion clouds my mind as of what’s to come next and it is nothing I’ve could have ever expected. Chris also places his eyes on me, me now realizing he has something hidden behind his hands and my curiosity rising almost instantly, the others whispering and giggling to each other while I remain oblivious.

Suddenly he stands up from his seat and walks over closer to where I currently reside in my seat, his hand reaches out in a gesture for me to take his hands and i oblige. Softly placing my hand in the palm of his, feeling the warmth of it envelop my own as he makes me also stand up and rise to my feet, his other hand remains hiding the mysterious object behind the enclosure of his fingers trapping it inside. The exact hand comes into view to finally reveal what is the surprise. “You’ve been through so much, yet you’ve managed to pull through it all. Since you graduated with such success, I just had to get you something personally to congratulate my favorite girl finally getting what she worked so hard for.” He confesses before taking his hand away and revealing a small white box, I grab the box and open to find what’s inside. My eyes are met with a stunning diamond ring which shines in the soft glow of the chandelier in the room.

I stare in complete shock and awe, not knowing how to react nor what move I could possibly do to safe the awkward silence. Before I get to wrap my head around any kind of ideas, he lifts my head by grabbing ahold of my chin to look back at him, smiling at my expression. “But there’s one last thing to do…” He speaks again, his eyes darting between looking into my eyes or staring at my lips. “What do you me-“ before I could finish my sentence as well as not getting that much time I needed to think of any possible meanings he meant behind his words, he pulls my face towards his and smashes our lips together in a searing kiss. I could feel the other tables glancing at us but frankly I didn’t care right now, becoming lost in the sensation of his lips on mine.

I melt right into the kiss as my arms fall around his neck, pulling him down closer to me as his arms attach to my waist. Never did I think I would be kissing my best friend in the middle of a restaurant, our friends start to erupt in cheers and the other tables starting to join the moment. After a few minutes passing of the kiss, we pull away from each other and I chuckle at the remains of my lipstick now left on his. “I love you, I really do.” the words leave my lips first as I see the smile widening in both of our faces, our breaths mixing together with each other by the close proximity of our faces in the moment.

“Even if I was a worm?” He jokes, lighting up the tense and intimate mood surrounding us, I giggle at him trying to squeeze in a joke in almost every situation he gets the chance to. “You’re so fucking stupid, it’s starting to get cute” “Yeah maybe, but I’m your stupid, am I?” I roll my eyes playfully, knowing what he’s saying is completely true before pulling him back into another kiss. The others cheers slowly fading into the background and the only thing I could hear was the flowing thoughts and pictures of this moment, everything around us becomes irrelevant as both of our minds get lost in the immaculate chemistry coursing through our bodies.

@hearts4werka

authors note: after working on this for quite some time now, a few crying nights while listening to cas to be exact, I finally finished writing this request that literally was such a good idea. I loved writing the story and it is kinda more story in general in here but overall this was such a fun thing to write. I hope y’all enjoy this kinda change of pace, luv y’all so much

& love and peace, V

Guestlist!

| @sturnioloblues - @sturnsxplr-25 - @deffonotjae - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot |

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[sixflame438]

Makeup Shenanigans

Synopsis - While your makeup artist had left to get a few things, your girlfriend comes to do your makeup instead.

Pairing - Hong Eunchae x 6th lsfm!reader

Tags - Fluff, I know nothing about makeup, possible errors, established relationship, kissing

A/N - [Request] This has a second part but can be read as a standalone fic. Part two is another requested fic which is [here] Pretend that Lsfms first fansign was during antifragile era mk?

Wordcount - 1138

Breathe in. Breathe out. You repeat this mantra in your head as you continue to do breathing exercises trying to calm your nerves. Opening your eyes you stare into your reflection on the table mirror, face half covered as the make up artist had to briefly step out of your dressing room to as she had the wrong shades for you.

Today was the groups first fan signing event and it was normal to be nervous but you were also super excited as well. You would be meeting the people who believed in and helped support Le Sserafims success since the beginning and you couldn’t be more grateful to pay them back. The event was just a simple meet and greet session and then attendees would have a chance to talk to each member for a short while as they signed their albums.

Nothing about it sounded too hard and you had a great feeling that the day would turn out well. Hearing the door click open you assume its your makeup artist coming back with the supplies but to your delight its not.

“Babyyyyyyyy”

“Pumpkin! what are you doing here?”

“Nothing in particular I just missed you” she replies as she nuzzles her face into your neck

“Is your makeup done already?” Questions your girlfriend when she gets into a comfortable position.

“No the person doing it had to leave and get a few things”

“Oh yea i know” Sensing your confusion Eucnchae continues. “I was bored and saw your artist leaving so I came here. Plus i couldnt do this-“ she leaves a kiss on your temple- “if she was here.”

“Ulterior motives i tell you” you say shaking your head in disappointment.

“No no no 100% innocent no ulterior motives i just missed my adorable girlfriend” she defended with a pout and pleading gaze.

Eunchae was a repeat offender and you were her number 1 victim, never being able to resist her large puppy eyes. With an amused roll of your eyes you dismiss the thought as you motion for Eunchae to take the seat next to you.

As the maknae sat down she noticed all the stuff laid out in a mess on the table top. Brushes of different sizes, palettes of varying shades, lipsticks and other beauty products just waiting to be used by someone.

“Baby can i do your makeup?”

For a second you were taken aback but quickly give into the request as you sit back properly into your chair. Eunchae pulls her own closer so that shed have an easier time applying everything.

Browsing the tools at her disposal Eunchae quickly gets to work making your face even more beautiful than it already was.

—————————

It had been about 6 minutes of quiet when Eunchae finally stops working. It wasn’t an entirely horrible attempt but you could easily tell by looking at your reflection that your girlfriend had no idea what she was doing. Some areas had been blended weirdly as you could tell from the incorrect colouring and there was too much blush on one cheek and not enough on the other. These were amongst the many issues you could see but at least you had a fun time.

“Last but not least some lip gloss to finish it off. Hey this looks great on you with that light pink tint i wonder if itll look good on me too” Eunchae stated thinking out loud (eunchae more like ed sheeran)

“You want me to put some on you?”

“Nah ive got a better idea” is all eunchae says before leaning in to press her lips onto yours, transferring the product. As if nothing just happened she turned to the mirror to examine herself. “Awww i dont think it showed much”

“You just need to put more on” you say with a smirk. Eunchae picking up what you were putting down giggled to herself before closing in to connect your lips again.

The kiss was sweet, a combination of your cute partner and the lip gloss you were now sharing. It had a strawberry undertone to it and altogether was a delightful experience.

In a way it felt like the lip gloss was calling you out for being just as fruity as its flavour but you were too in the clouds to care, focusing on Eunchae and only Eunchae.

You pull apart first as you had run out of air but your arms stay linked around her neck as you lean your forehead onto Eunchaes. Together you bask in the closeness and warmth, simply enjoying being together.

Your moment is cut off when you hear the click coming from the door. Cautiously you lift your head up to see the makeup artist walking in mumbling something to herself, eyes focused on the products she had been holding. When she looks up you can see the shock colouring her face with horror.

“Oh my god what happened to your face….”

“We got bored so Eunchae did my makeup” you say embarrassed that you were caught.

“Oh this is…. something….”

The artist says clearly not impressed by Eunchaes attempt. “We cannot have you going out looking like this were going to have to start over. Where are the wipes….”

As the makeup artist starts looking around for things to remove your makeup with Eunchae takes that as her sign to leave. She doesnt make it far out the door though as she turns around to blow you an air kiss, one you giddly accept and reciprocate by sending one back.

“Ill see you later Yn” Eunchae says with a wink before she actually leaves to return to her room.

You turn back around to see they had finally found some wipes and immediately gets to work removing everything. You turn your attention to your phone when you hear a specific ping noise. One you had set specifically for Eunchaes messages.

Hey cutie miss you already 😘

If the stylist saw anything or had any suspicions she didnt voice them, staying professional to the job and skillfully doing your makeup (unlike the previous attempt)

You quickly reply back to her message and swipe out of your chats into one of your miscellaneous games that you could play mindlessly, careful not to move to much so you wouldnt disturb the makeup process.

The earlier interactions with Eunchae left you excited and now with that excess energy you coudlnt help but look forward to the fansigning.

Recording and learning the choreography to antifragile had been a blast and you were thrilled to be getting to meet the fearnots who supported your group since debut.

As the makeup artist did their thing, every tap and brush stroke precise to a tee, you sat as still as you could, beaming with excitement for Le Sserafims first fansign event.

No Celestial best song on album. Fight me.

[katsu28]

hi my lovely kait!

i saw your requests were open and i actually was thinking about if ive ever requested smth from you before (i think maybe once but im not sure)

i was wondering if i could get ‘Kissing away their tears’ with charles but i wouldn’t mind if you wanted to do it with anyone else as well! i’ve been craving some hurt/comfort.

love you and have an amazing day <33

hali!!! love u love u thank u for being so sweet <3 here's some hurt and (hopefully) some comfort for u!

charles leclerc x reader, 1.4k. request something from here!

You can tell that Charles is dejected the moment he climbs out of the car. He doesn’t have that spring in his step he usually gets after an exhilarating race, and his feet drag on the asphalt as he trudges over to the weighing station with the rest of the grid, barring the podium goers. 

Carlos finished high up in the points, which is a win for Ferrari and you know Charles is happy for him, but you can’t imagine what it must feel like to constantly miss out on points and positions while his teammate consistently comes out in the top five every time. 

Formula One is a different breed of competition—your teammate might be your friend, but they’re also one of your biggest rivals. You fight to keep your seat, race after race, season after season, and this downhill spiral Charles has been in ever since his home win has been disheartening to say the least. 

You don’t know much about the strategy of it all, but you know Ferrari’s hasn’t been working out for him. He’s had a rough go of it lately, and your heart hurts for him. 

Charles looks up to where he knows you are, lifting his hand in a haphazard wave at you before being ushered away to the media pen. You’ll wait for him where you always meet him after races.

Somehow, he looks even more defeated than before as he trudges into his driver room after post race interviews conclude. He throws his paddock pass off to the side. You’re sitting up on the countertop, legs swinging mindlessly, only stilling when Charles shuts the door behind him. 

“Hey,” You say softly, gently. 

“Hi. Thank you for coming.” He tries his attempt at a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. You hold out your arms, and immediately, Charles steps forward, folding himself into your embrace. You know Charles well enough to know that he won't believe you if you compliment him right now, so you don’t. You sit with him in the heavy silence instead, waiting for him to make the first move. “I’m sorry I could not do better.” 

“You did the best you could with what you were given, Charles,” You say assuringly, rubbing a hand over his shoulders. He sighs long and hard, like you’re just telling him what he wants to hear. “I’m proud of you.” 

“Can we just go back to the hotel now?” He asks quietly, muffled because of how his face is buried into your neck. “I’m done for today. Anything else can wait until tomorrow.” 

“Of course,” You hum, carding a gentle hand through his hair one more time before releasing him. Before he can get too far, you kiss him, short and sweet. He smiles then too, a little bigger than before, but still quite sad. 

Charles puts on a pleasant facade as you make your way through the paddock back to the car park, taking pictures with waiting fans, signing things for them if he can reach them like most drivers do whilst leaving the track. Most of them are sweet to him. They tell him to keep his head up and believe, that a few bad races don’t discredit how talented of a driver he is. 

There’s a few hecklers as usual, upset fans who’d made bets on Charles’ performance and lost that money, people who say he could be doing so much better—as if them telling him that would magically make everything alright again. You give your own deadpan stare to that lot from where you hover a good distance away from him, not caring that they can definitely see you. 

Charles may be media trained, but you’re not. You have no problems with shutting up a few twats with your expertly crafted death glare. Fred Vasseur might call you in for a meeting with the PR team if he sees the photos on social media, but you don’t care. 

The car ride back to the hotel is understandably silent, but Charles still holds your hand tightly, rubbing absentminded circles along your skin because it soothes him, every so often lifting it to press a kiss to your knuckles. You don’t push him to talk, and you don’t think you need to. You know him well enough to know he’ll let you in when he’s ready. 

Dinner is room service and holds a little more conversation, though you can tell Charles is still off in his own world, thinking about everything that’s gone wrong these past few races, wondering if he could’ve done anything to get a better outcome. 

You come out of the bathroom after brushing your teeth, well and ready to go to sleep and forget this day, but instead you find your boyfriend sitting at the end of the bed, hunched over with his head in his hands. At the sound of the door opening, he looks up, and you can tell he’s been trying hard not to cry. 

Glassy eyes stare back at you, the beautiful green eyes that you adore filled with so much pain and sadness it makes you want to cry too. His teeth dig hard into his bottom lip, but it still wobbles just the slightest. 

It isn’t until you’re across the room, sliding on your knees to hug him against you that the final string holding Charles up snaps, and he leans into you heavily, pressing his face against your shoulder with a shuddering breath. He cries and cries, and you let him, holding him as tight as you can just so he knows you’ve got him. 

You’ve always got him. 

His body shakes with silent sobs, hot tears soaking into your shirt, and all you can do is murmur quiet reassurances into his ear, even if the feeling of wet cotton against your skin makes you want to peel yourself out of it. Charles needs this, needs to let it all out so he can focus on what lies ahead without being dragged down by the past. 

Eventually, his sobs come to a hiccupping stop. He lifts his head, red rimmed eyes meeting your own tearful ones. His nose is even running a little bit, and if it were anyone else you’d push them away, but it’s Charles. “I’m sorry. I don’t—I don’t know why…” He trails off without finishing his sentence, seemingly at a loss for words. 

“Oh, my love,” You sigh, stroking both thumbs over the apples of his cheeks. You press your lips against his, hoping it can convey just how much you love him without you having to even utter the words, wiping away his tears gently before drawing back to look at him. As much as you hate it when Charles cries, he’s pretty like this. Tears cling to long, dark lashes, mussed hair a soft tornado of brown from how your fingers had been running through it. “You have nothing to be sorry for. And you never have to explain anything to me, yes? I’m here for you, always, no matter what.”

“Thank you,” He murmurs, leaning back in with his forehead against yours. “Thank you, mon amour. Your support, your love, it means everything to me. You are why I can keep doing this. ” 

You shake your head. “No I’m not.” Charles cocks his head, and you poke his chest, right over his heart. “That is why you can keep doing this.” 

One more poke, this one softer and on his forehead. “And this. Your mind and your heart, your determination, your strength, that is why you keep going. You are the most hard working, talented, brilliant driver I’ve ever seen. You can bounce back from whatever this is, and you will. But not because of me, because that’s the kind of person you are.” 

Charles pats the spot next to him and you oblige, looping your arm through his once you’re there, leaning against his shoulder now. He lays a lingering kiss to the top of your head, a silent gesture of appreciation towards you. He appreciates you more than he can put into words sometimes, a fact that hasn’t and will never change.  

Even though he’s still frustrated and sad and upset, this silence seems considerably lighter as you sit with him. You hope for brighter days ahead, and you’ll always try your best to be his strongest support system, no matter what the future holds.

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[rinstaro]

attitude

a/n: this is an ask for twilight that i accidentally deleted lol. this one’s gonna be loooooong. i feel really sick today so sorry if it’s really bad 🫠 not proofread because im ashamed of what ive done

cw: overstim <33, clit slapping, twilight being mean cause you pissed him off, you shouldn’t have bitched at him!! he says mean things in the sweetest tone, he still loves you very much, crying, biting, squirting, he cums in you hnnnnn, reader has a vagina and no pronouns

minors do not interact.

twilight was at his wits end. he’d come home to a clean house, a lovely dinner, and yet you were no where to be found. when he ventured into your shared bedroom, you were perched on the bed with your nose in a book. twilight got the feeling you weren’t reading, though.

you glanced at him quickly before letting out a small huff. what was that all about, he wondered. “i’m home, doll,” he smiled, reaching a finger out to push your book down. instead you snatched it away from him, causing him to jump back.

“did you eat?” you asked, still not looking at him. he frowned at your strange behavior. he decided to ignore it, maybe you were just really into that book?

“it was amazing, doll. i cleaned up the dishes for you.”

“hm. thanks,” you mumbled, finally setting your book down. twilight thought you were finally giving him some attention, only to watch you climb off the bed and walk towards the door. “i’m gonna fold the laundry.”

“oh, i did that too.” you grit your teeth. of course he did. he was just doing everything but you, huh?

the reason you were upset at him may have been silly, but you couldn’t help it. when you woke up this morning, there was an ache between your legs. you tried to ignore it, but how could you when your lover was right next to you? it was rare that you woke up before him, so you thought you’d use it to your advantage.

you turned over, wrapping your arms around his waist the same way his were currently wrapped around yours. you leaned up a bit, placing soft kisses on his neck at which he stirred slightly. you pressed your almost naked form closer to him, innocent kisses turning into little love bites. soon enough your lover was awake. “mmm, mornin’.”

“g’morning, baby. sleep well?”

“mhm. always do when you’re next ‘ta me. c’mere,” he mumbled, laying on his back and pulling you into his lap. perfect, you thought.

you ran your hands down his chest, your gaze heated. twilight had closed his eyes again, relishing in the feeling of your body heat. you leaned down, lips hovering over his when—

“are ya comin’ with me today?”

“…huh?”

“you said you wanted to come watch me work, right?” he asked, opening his eyes to look at your confused face. you almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing. here you were in all your glory, horny, barely any clothes on, and he was thinking about work?

you pouted, climbing off of him and laying back down, back towards him. “i’m still sleepy. maybe tomorrow,” you mumbled. twilight thought nothing of it, assuming your attitude was due to you being ‘sleepy’.

“alright, darlin, i’ll see you soon.” without a second thought, twilight rose, planting a kiss on your forehead before going to get ready for the day.

yes, you were pissed off because you didn’t get to fuck your husband in the early morning. damn him for being so hardworking.

now you were standing in the door frame looking silly, still scantily clad with a scowl on your face. “thank you,” you hissed. you had no choice but to walk back to the bed, sitting next to him and picking back up your book. twilight frowned. this was getting frustrating.

“whatsa matter, darlin’? you okay?” he asked directly, prying the book out of your hands. you looked appalled at the fact that he dared take it away from you. “i’m fine—“

“no you’re not. tell me. now.”

“excuse me? why do i have to?” you growled, “whatever. go play with your stupid goats.” with that, you stood once more, marching towards the door. before you could even reach for the handle, your lover’s hand was around your neck, chest pressed to your back.

a growl rumbled in his chest, making you freeze on the spot. you could tell that he was trying to calm his breathing, the grip on your neck pinning you in place. “mind sayin’ that again?”you choked back a whimper, slightly shaking your head no. “i d-didnt mean—“

“you didn’t, huh? so why you been so mean since i got here?” he could feel you swallow. when you didn’t respond, twilight took a moment to sniff the air.

right, just like he thought. surely you wouldn’t talk to him like that for no reason. “how ‘bout you go sit your pretty self back on the bed? i’ll make sure that attitude’s dealt with.”

and that’s how you were tied up by your wrists and stripped bare in the span of 15 minutes.

there were bite marks littering your entire body, coloring your skin in different shades of reds, purples and blues. you trembled, tears decorating your lash line already while your lover sat in front of you and spanked your clit.

“can’t even go one day without me touchin’ this cunt? that’s a lil’ pathetic even for you, doll,” twilight hummed, landing another slap on your clit. you cried out, legs twitching in an effort to close. too bad twilight was absolutely fucking massive. “got me a runner, huh? you know that’s not gonna work, darlin’.”

your pussy was sobbing, a damp spot already formed on the sheets. your clit was so sensitive from his spankings and you didn’t think you could take anymore.

“i-i’m sorry, please let me go! i won’t do it anymore!”

“hm? i’m just givin’ ya what you wanted,” he smirked, thumbing at your over sensitive clit. you gasped, legs trying to close again. he never understood why you kept trying to stop him, you craved his touch. how could he deny you what you had been asking for?

“y’know what? i think you even deserve a reward for waiting for so long,” twilight said while lowering himself and pushing your thighs back, not even giving you a moment to brace yourself as his tongue attacked your swollen bud.

you let out a slutty moan, rolling your hips into his mouth. “ahhn, link!–” finally he was giving you what you wanted and more. you couldn’t help but yell his name, eyes rolling back in pure bliss.

even though he was upset with you, twilight only ever wanted to please you. his dick twitched in his pants at every gasp you let out. more, he needed to hear you more. he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking at your gushing cunt. the tears finally started falling as you came abruptly, overwhelmed by his ministrations and your own sensitivity.

you twisted and turned in your restraints when he didn’t stop, drinking your cum like he hasn’t had water in days. “f-fuuuuck! quit it, let go let go!” you cried. he didn’t listen, not even for a second. instead, he dove his tongue even further into your cunt, viciously tongue fucking you towards your second orgasm. your legs shook in his grasp.

“please please i’m sorry! n-no, no more! too much!” twilight laughed into your cunt at your cries. where’d his tough little darling go? you had only cum once and he was far from done with you.

he kept tongue fucking you until he could feel you cum again, creaming all over his face. he sucked your poor pussy til there was nothing left, pulling away from your clit with a ‘pop’. you continued to shake, eyes squeezed shut. twilight ran his hands up and down your body, massaging the tense muscles. he didn’t need you cramping, he still hadn’t fucked you full of cum.

he gave you a minute before he spoke. “you said you’re sorry?” “mhm,” you whimpered in response. he smiled softly, grabbing your chin and kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his tongue. “how you gonna make it up to me? you thought i’d let ya off that easy, brat?” you flinched at his words. his tone was sinister, holding promises that tonight would not end well for you.

“y’know, i was thinkin’ ‘bout you all day. your pretty face never leaves my mind,” he spoke quietly. “neither does that pretty cunt. thought about how my sweet darling feels so good when i fuck them. after all, don’t i deserve something for dealin’ with that nasty attitude of yours?”

as mean as he sounded, he was testing you. seeing if you wanted to stop. after all of that? fuck no. you needed him to batter your pussy til it was sore. you whimpered once more as you nodded, which made your lover laugh.

“there’s my good doll. just needed me to take care of you, right? then you’ll stop all that bitchin’?”

he finally stripped himself of his clothing, making you drool at the sight of him. you squirmed once more, whining at him. “liiiiiiink!” his dick throbbed painfully at the sound of his name coming from you. “please lemme go, i wanna hold you too.”

you’re so damn cute. how could he say no to such a precious request? he was gonna destroy you.

twilight untied the rope binding your wrists, sighing dreamily when your arms wrapped around his neck. maybe he should let you get this needy more often.

“you ready, darlin’?”

“y-yes, please give it to me,” you whispered, looking him right in the eyes. he could’ve came right then and there.

slowly, he pushed his cock into you, the stretch making you hiss. it felt like he was splitting you open every time and you adored it. a broken moan left your throat, toes curling so hard it hurt. twilight was no better off, shuddering when his hips met yours.

“oh my— fuck, move!” you yelped. he started at an easy pace, letting you get used to his size. your eyes rolled into the back of your head, the pleasure sending you into a frenzy. hell, twilight could even feel you trying to fuck him back, your hips chasing his whenever he pulled back.

“that’s it, fuck, let me feel you,” he growled, gradually increasing his pace. your cunt was so wet, clenching around him so hard, he felt like he was in heaven.

“my p-precious darlin’ was just waitin’ for me, huh? needed me to bury my cock in ya? ‘s that all?”

“yes! yesyesyes, please! i love you so much, please!”

twilights pace stuttered, a choked groan tumbling out of his mouth. “i love you, too. gonna make me cum.” you were about to cum yourself, thighs shaking violently. you pulled him into a searing kiss that sent both of you over the edge. you were cumming so hard you couldn’t breathe, cunt squirting all over your husband and yourself. he moaned loudly, thrusts slowing but never stopping as he fucked his cum into you.

you started growing sensitive once more, begging him to stop, to take a break. but he couldn’t, not when you missed him so much and your pussy fucked him so good. twilight suddenly started fucking you at an animalistic pace, his grip on your hips bruising. you were screaming, certain that the entire village could hear you. your poor neighbors.

“fuckfuck, can’t stop, so fuckin’ good, need more,” he moaned out, throwing your legs over his shoulders. your back arched almost painfully. he was so deep you could only feel him. everything felt so good, too good, and you weren’t sure if you could handle any more.

“link, it’s too good! c-can’t take it! can’t— oh my— hahhhh!” your fucked out babbling was cut short as you came again, squirting all over the two of you once more. you felt so good, you were sobbing. twilight chuckled darkly.

“there ya go, jus’ like that. give me all of it til there’s nothin’ left, you hear me?”

[verybadatwriting]

Blood and Marrow

Summary: Reader is the child of a hard-working single mother and a long-forgotten one night stand. One day the consequences of their father's identity catches up to the Reader

Warnings: Imprisonment, needles, improper conditions for prisoners, bone marrow stealing, surgery without anesthetic, torture essentially, kidnapping, in-world curse word, parental death, iv’s

Notes: It’s a little slow to get started, but whatever.

Gn!reader, Fett!reader

Word count: 4030

The whispering streets sped by as the train picked up speed. Another day was done, you and your mother were finally on your way home. Even though today wasn’t the longest she’d ever had to stay at work, it sure felt like it. All but two cooks and half the servers got food poisoning, so you had to help out. Normally you got to sit in the corner and do your schoolwork, instead you were ferrying meals and dishes back and forth between the kitchen and customers. 

Your mom had been working here since before you were born, so it was like a second home to you. A dirty, noisy home, full of strangers, but a home nonetheless. When you were a baby your mom would park you in a corner with some toys and just keep half an eye on you while she worked. 

That corner became your spot, permanently. Everyone knew not to seat customers there, except on the days you worked. Today it was occupied by an elderly Mon Calamari couple. They ordered crab-stuffed cream puffs, and complained that they had too much crab, and not enough stuffing. You tried explaining that it’s stuffed with crab, so the crab is the stuffing, but they were firm. 

Eventually you just took the puffs back to the kitchen, waited a few minutes, and came back out with the same plate. This time they were “absolutely perfect” and they asked why “You didn’t make them like this the first time?”

Putting on your best customer service face you simply smiled and told them to enjoy their meal. 

“What I really wanted to tell them,” You said to your mom, “Was that they looked like a bunch of shriveled up–”

“Alright!” She interrupted sternly, “That’s quite enough.” She tried giving you her signature ‘mom-glare’ but you could see a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

The train ground to a halt at stop G17, and you disembarked. This was the worst part of the commute; strolling through the slums. Ever since you were little you had hated your neighborhood. The neon lights and bottles strewn about, the clusters of people who never seemed to disperse or do anything other than stand around. 

About two years ago things got really bad after a rough batch of layoffs, and the standing around turned to rioting. Rioting turned to looting, which turned to robberies. You and your mother hid in the bathroom as men ransacked your apartment. Crashes rattled the ground as they tossed through dressers and drawers looking for valuables.

They were about to open the bathroom door when an authoritative voice ordered them to put their hands up. Obviously they didn’t obey, and the sounds of fighting erupted. An electric zapping sound buzzed and the robbers thunked to the ground.

“Apartment building 5C clear.” The man said. 

“Wait– scratch that.” Said another, identical voice. “One room left.” The door slowly opened, and the man pointed a flashlight inside. He didn’t wear the uniform of the Coruscant Underworld Police, instead his armor was mostly white with red accents. He lowered his stun baton when the light passed over the scared forms of you and your mother. 

“Now apartment building 5C is clear.” He said into his com, then to your mother, “Are you hurt?”

“No.” She said, “We’re fine.”

“Thorn,” The other trooper called into the bathroom. “We’ve gotta get moving. Stone needs help with the riots to the west. Latest reports say three dead.”

The troopers arrested the robbers and quickly left, leaving you and your mom alone in your completely trashed apartment. It took hours to clean it all up. Even longer to even start to feel safe again.

Now, as you finally slid off your shoes and settled down on your bed, you felt a little safe. The doors were locked and bolted. In the past two years nobody else broke in, and things were calm enough. 

“Try to catch some sleep, Y/n,” Your mom poked her head into your room. 

“Mhm.” You nodded, “I’ve just gotta finish up some homework. I promise I’ll be in bed by one.”

“That’s my kid.” Your mom went to the joint living/dining room and spread a blanket on the couch. She laid there, and you listened to her breathing slowly steady as she drifted off to sleep. 

Your blinks got longer and longer until you set aside the work and stilus to finally sleep. Just like you promised, it was a few minutes before one. What felt like a moment later, you woke up with a start. 

At first, you couldn’t tell what woke you, but then you heard footsteps clanking in the living room. They stopped again, and you heard a brief, muffled yell from your mother. The clanking started again, and seconds later, a tall metallic figure stood in your doorway. It approached, and pressed a cloth over your mouth and nose. The world went fuzzy and then dark as you clawed at the metal arm.

Some time later, you’re not quite sure how long, you woke up with a splitting headache. You tried to rub your eyes, but found your arms were immobile. The room spun around as you reoriented yourself. At first you thought you were lying on your back, but in reality you were hanging from the ceiling by two shackles on your wrists. Your feet barely brushed the floor, so all your weight was pulling down on your arms.

Your eyes slowly acclimated to the darkness around you. The walls were slick durasteel. The floor was metal as well, but slightly slanted towards a small, round drain in the center. Layers of old, dried crud that no one had bothered to clean up streaked toward it.

As you just hung there, breathing heavily because of a stabbing pain in your sternum. You also had a stabbing, unending pain in your head. Before all of this had time to fully register, the door slid open, a blinding light was turned on, and a Skakoan man entered. His dark blue robes draped loosely from his hissing pressure suit. Tubes reached from his neck plate to the upper chest plate, which featured nozzles and ports. The metal caught the light and glinted.

Closely after him, a 2-1B surgical droid followed. The shiny metal of its body was all straight lines and perfect curves. The ends of its arms were equipped with tools; tools you couldn't even imagine the purpose of. Its lifeless, glowing eyes stared through you. 

“Shall we begin, Emir Tambor?” It asked, holding up a container.

“Of course.” 

Tambor took the box from the droid, opened it, and removed a long, sharp needle. There was a clear collection area at the base. He sterilized the instrument. The droid, meanwhile, was approaching you. It was holding a bottle of disinfectant, which it sprayed onto your right hip after moving aside the clothing that was in the way. Your skin rose with goosebumps at the cold. 

The Skakoan approached, holding a scalpel. Slowly it was pressed into your side, through layers of skin, then muscle. Then it held back the layers of muscle while Tambor raised a drill and pushed it through the exterior of your bone. Your chest tightened in pain. You bit your tongue. You tasted blood in your mouth from biting too hard, while more trickled down your leg.

“Syringe.” Tambor said as he removed the drill and held out his gloved hand to the droid. It glinted against the harsh light as it passed between them. It plunged into the freshly-drilled hole in your bone and into the squishy marrow. The container at the end slowly filled with a dark red liquid. Darker than blood. 

“Suture,” The droid said, holding out a tool to the Skakoan scientist.

“You deal with that. I have what I need; 18.44 precious ounces of bone marrow.” Tambor started towards the door, cradling the container like it was worth more than a hundred kyber crystals. The door slid closed behind him, leaving only you and the dead-eyed droid. 

Finally, you allowed a sob to rip through your chest. Your chest heaved as you drew a shuddering breath, then devolved back into tears. The sound echoed off the shadowy walls. When Tambor left, the overhead lights turned off automatically, plunging the room into near complete darkness. Only the droid’s glowing eyes provided light. Even then, they were fixed at patching up the mess that was your hip.

“It would assist me if you could stay still,” It said.

For the next few minutes you tried to think of anything else than the metal digits nimbly stitching up your flesh. Where were you? Why are they doing this? Who is ‘they’? Did they kidnap your mom, too?

The thought of your mom hanging from her wrists in some dark cell, just as you were, was enough to make you cry again. The droid whirred disapprovingly. You stifled them as best you could. 

It was almost over. The droid just had to finish stitching together the final layer of muscle, and apply a bacta patch. It never got the chance, because the door blew open, and a few clone troopers marched in, guns blazing. They shot down the surgery droid the moment they saw it. Behind them, you saw a half dozen more blue -armored soldiers in the hall.

“This one’s alive,” called out the one nearest to you, “Kix, get over here!”

“Can you hear me?” The medic asked, opening his kit. 

You nodded.

“This is gonna sting a little,” He said, pressing a bacta patch over your still bleeding hip. The sting was the least of your worries. Even that slight amount of pressure was enough to make you gasp in pain.

“You’re okay,” Kix said reassuringly to you, then he barked at his brothers to unfasten the chains holding you up. Almost immediately, they snapped the right chain and all your weight swung onto the other arm. Kix put his arm under your shoulders, and held you up while one of his brothers worked at undoing the second manacle. 

“Can you walk?” Kix asked once his brother had freed you. You tried putting a little weight on your leg, but couldn’t manage it. Your other leg nearly buckled, and only Kix’s arm kept you standing.

“No.” You hissed through clenched teeth. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” He said, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n,” You answered.

“We’re going to take you to our ship, Y/n,” He said, “You’ll be on the first flight out of here.” 

“Mhmm.” You said, the blood loss making you a bit woozy. Your head lolled to the side, and rested against Kix’s shoulder.

“Kix,” one of the soldiers said. His helmet had a blue downwards-pointing arrow, and a smaller red triangle above that. His armor was battered, just like the rest of them. The paint was worn away in places. 

“This area still isn’t secured. They’ll have to wait to be evacuated.”

“They can’t wait,” Kix replied, “Look at that, Dogma” he pointed to a puddle of your blood on the floor, “Look at it. They’ve lost too much blood already. We’re getting them out, now.”

After a moment of thoughtfully looking at the blood he nodded and said, “We’ll cover you.” Then he spoke into his comm, “Civilian evac needed. Be ready to provide cover fire.”

“Hear that?” Kix asked you. “We’ll get you out of here.”

“Hardcase, and Dogma, on my mark,” came a voice over the comms a moment later. “Three… Two… One!”

Dogma leaned out of the door and chucked a grenade up the hallway, and at the same time, another clone did the same thing from a room across the hall. They both ducked back inside, and covered their ears as two small explosions shook the walls. 

One soldier with pale blue stripes on his armor jumped out into the corridor with a 6-Z rotary cannon and started firing massive sprays of blaster bolts towards the droids. At the same time, Kix shifted to carry most of your weight, and started running towards the turbolift at the opposite end of the hall. 

The whole escape was a bit of a blur. The hallway was one long, straight passage from the room you were being held in to the lift. Unfortunately, that meant there was barely any cover. Even with the clones mowing down rows of droids, a few bolts still sailed down the hall towards you. It was so loud.

But the noise stopped suddenly once you saw into one of the other rooms. Everything stopped. The world stopped. Maybe even the whole galaxy. 

In that room, one identical to the one you had been held in, hung a woman. Her wrists were bound in chains, her head hung limply. Her clothes were bloodsoaked. Worst of all, she was absolutely still.

Nothing – not the pain in your leg, not the slicing scalpel tearing flesh, not the needle siphoning marrow – no, nothing could ever come close to the pain of seeing her like that, and knowing she was gone.

You felt Kix tug you forward, ripping you back to reality where everything was moving and there was no time to mourn. Before you knew it, the two of you were in the elevator. The smooth doors slid closed, drowning out the sounds of battle.

Through the curved window, you could see you were on an asteroid. The rocky barren landscape was littered with ships, troops, and the flashes of blaster fire. It looked like the Republic was taking the whole place.

“We’re almost there,” Kix said softly. “In the transport there’s an IM-6 medical droid that will take good care of you. You’re gonna be okay, kid.”

Finally, you reached the roof. Three low-altitude transports awaited you. You rushed to the closest one, Kix pulled down an emergency cot at the back, and set you down. He had to go back to the fight, but he dosed you with something first. It made the world fuzzy. Your pain dulled.

You barely even registered the little floating droid working diligently on your leg and your chest. Kix came back twice, both times half-carrying one of his wounded brothers. He set up the other two cots for them as the droid floated over to assist.

Not too long later, the transport started to fill up with soldiers. They were tired, but not completely exhausted. They quietly cracked jokes to one another, despite injuries.

The doors slid closed, the ship started rumbling, then flying. 

Kix stood in the back, near the cots, to assess his brothers. Once they were situated, he squatted down next to you.

“It’s been a little while,” He said, quietly. “How’re you holding up?”

“It still hurts,” You said, “But the meds help.”

“Good,” He nodded. “Is there someone you want us to contact, tell them you’re alright?”

You gained a faraway stare and paused as your eyes welled up.  

“Were there any other survivors?” You asked, dreading the answer.

“There were not.”

“No, then,” You said, voice perilously close to cracking. “I only ever had my mom, and as of today, she’s dead.” 

You reached up and wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Where do you live?”

“Coruscant,” You said. “But I don't have anywhere to go. I’ll be put in foster care till I age out, then I’ll just be dumped on the street.”

“It’ll be okay,” Kix said. “We don’t have to figure it all out right now.” He looked at the datapad clipped to the side of your cot. His eyebrows wrinkled. 

“Are you having trouble breathing?” He asked.

“A little. Why?” 

“Your respiratory muscles are working harder than expected. I’m going to give you something to help them relax.”

He pushed a small dose of a clear liquid through your IV and almost immediately you felt your muscles relax from head to toe. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” He said. You found you couldn’t keep your eyes open, so you slept.

You awoke when the transport landed in the hangar of a much larger ship. The able-bodied clones hopped out quickly, and were soon absorbed by the throngs of people all fixing, refueling, and disembarking from ships. 

The two injured clones were transferred onto stretchers. As they floated by, you saw one was missing the lower chunk of his leg. The other clone was only half unconscious. His chest plate was battered with blaster burns, and as he drifted past, you smelled the unmistakable scent of burning flesh. 

Kix scooped you up, and set you down on a hoverchair. Almost immediately you felt more awake. On the journey to the medbay, you watched others that followed the same route as you. Most injuries weren’t that bad. The general mood was celebratory, even in the medbay.

“I’m gonna help you into a bed,” Kix said, “But then I have to go help my brothers. I won’t be far.” 

Once more he lifted you gently, making sure not to put pressure on your hip, and laid you down in the bed. You watched as Kix went from bed to bed bandaging and comforting the injured. 

Slowly, everything settled down. One by one the patched up clones were sent on their way, and the medbay was calm. There was still work to do, but the medics were no longer running from one task to the next, instead they took inventories of what materials were needed, and updated medical logs. 

It was then that your trouble breathing got much, much worse. Despite trying your hardest, very little air moved in or out of your lungs. Pain coursed through your chest as your muscles tried to pull in what little breath they could. You coughed, hoping that would help. 

All that did was bring the taste of blood to your tongue. You sat up. A drop fell from your mouth and onto the pristine white sheets. 

Kix turned at the sound of your cough. He set down the data-pad and rushed over when he saw you sit up and spit blood. 

“You’re okay,” He said, placing a stethoscope on your back, “Keep coughing.” He turned to another medic and said, “We’re gonna need a needle, tubing, and a container.” 

He grabbed the bedside table.

“Lean on this,” Kix said, pulling it closer. You turned, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs hanging off, and you braced your forearms on top of it, still coughing and trying to clear your lungs.

The medic returned quickly, all the necessary supplies in his arms.

“You’re gonna feel a sharp prick on your back, just below your ribs,” Kix said, picking up the syringe and securing the tubing on one end. “On three, ready?”

You nodded.

“One, two,” He pushed the needle through skin, muscle, and finally lung. It was uncomfortable and caught you off guard, but immediately the pressure started to decrease. A moment or two later, you could breathe with not too much difficulty.

Kix arranged everything so that you could sit up against the pillows.

“What’s wrong with me?” You asked.

“There is fluid leaking into your lungs,” Kix said, “I’m not exactly sure what it is; there’s at least some blood in it.”

“What caused it?”

“I’m guessing they weren’t too careful when extracting bone marrow from the sternum, and somehow nicked your lung. We can keep draining it, but we’ll have to fix the puncture at some point. We’ll probably use the drainage tube to access it…” 

You kept listening as he worked on possible solutions. The events of the past few hours suddenly washed over you, and your eyes once again drooped closed. 

When you woke up, there was no longer a bag attached to your side. Where the tube had been, there was just a simple bacta patch. 

The medbay staff had changed. They looked less tired. Kix was in the corner, near the door, talking with a blonde trooper. When they noticed you were awake, they came over.

You’d seen the other trooper before. He held his helmet under one arm, the jaig eyes peering out at you. 

“Y/n,” Kix said, pulling up a chair next to your bed, “This is Captain Rex. He leads the 501st.”

“Yeah,” You nodded, “The ones that got me outta there.” 

“Kix was just sharing that you’re healing well,” Rex said.

“I definitely feel way better, now that I’m not coughing up blood and struggling to breathe,” You said.

“I am very thankful we fixed that,” Kix nodded, then another medic called him over.

“Excuse me,” He said, then walked to the other end of the medbay. 

Rex was quiet, as though he didn’t really know what to say.

“Anyway,” he finally said, “I’m here to see if you have any information that might help us.”

“Uh… I don’t really know much.”

“That’s fine, just tell me what happened.”

“Well, they kidnapped us from my mom’s apartment on Coruscant. Some droids drugged us and we must’ve been out for at least a few hours, since when I woke up in that cell, they had already taken bone marrow from my chest. I hung there for a bit, then they took marrow from my hip, and that’s when y’all showed up.” 

“Can you think of any reason that the Separatists would want to target you or your family?”

“Nope. Mom and I aren’t politically active or important. Truth be told, I haven't the foggiest who my father was.”

You talked for a bit longer, and just as Rex was standing up, Kix came back. His eyes were fixed on the datapad held in his hands. His forehead was deeply creased; his expression the epitome of concern.

“Wait one moment, Captain,” He said. “This… this is bad.”

“What is it?” You and Rex both asked.

“The team on the ground just finished uploading their reports on the equipment. It’s for advanced genetic sequencing. They were working to reconstruct Jango Fett’s DNA.”

“What were they even working from?” Rex asked, eyebrows scrunching together.

“They spliced together DNA from one of Fett’s children, their mother, and one of our brothers.” 

“Jango didn’t have any children.” Rex said, then asked, “Right?”

“That’s what I thought, before I found this lab, at least” Kix shook his head, then turned towards you, “Y/n, I ran a paternity test on you. You are Jango Fett’s child.”

“Okay?” You said. “I have, like, zero clue what that means.”

“Have you told the general yet?” Rex asked Kix, completely ignoring your confusion.

“I’m on my way to do just that.” 

With that, Kix left, clutching his datapad. 

A few weeks later, you had fully healed.

Going through your old apartment was difficult. You only found a few things worth keeping. Most held too many painful memories. Nothing of value was left, since after people figured out it was empty, it was seen as an easy target. 

Sifting through the piles of overturned mess was too hard, so you didn’t. Instead, you picked up a few things. A necklace. A hologram of you and your mom, both beaming at whoever took it. 

You snapped it closed, and pushed yourself to your feet. You took in your ransacked apartment one last time. It reminded you of the last time this happened, two years ago. The only difference now, is that you had a place to go. 

“You ready?” Came a voice from the doorway. 

“Yup.” You said, voice wavering, but not breaking. “Let’s go, Kix.”

Word spread fast that you were Jango’s child. The troopers of the 501st took you under their wings. Kix trained you in the medical field, and Rex taught you to shoot.

They set you up with a bunk and a drawer, which was all you needed. Sleeping in the same room as countless clones was calming. Their rhythmic breathing lulled you into a feeling of safety.

Over a late night of swapping stories, you learned that Jango had another child. A boy named Boba. 

You knew you had to find him. All you had to do first was track him down.

[autisticjoshrusso]

really struggling to formulate my thoughts on this episode here. i think a lot was done right and a lot was done kind of poorly.

i think it was a mistake to end tommy's plotline on the show in that same lukewarm place that it had been for the entire time. the narrative was simultaneously too kind and not kind enough to him at the end in a way that didn't match the energy it had been giving. im not normally one to advocate for something to be made more black and white, but i think this is one of those times that the plot would have benefited from it. they needed to lean harder into him being an asshole or being a good guy. if they wanted him to get a redemption arc and the breakup to be very sad etc like they were apparently going for here, they should have made him more likeable this whole time. it felt tonally disconnected to me. like if he's going to be this emotional guy who cares too much about potentially being heartbroken we should have been getting that the whole time and we just objectively weren't.

i'll get into the maddie, josh, and buck scene separately. that's gonna need its own post from me because you know thats my special guy and i gotta really get into it.

i'm definitely glad to see the relationship be over. i've stayed pretty middle ground this whole time because i loved the potential tommy could have had as a character, but that was just never delivered in canon, and ive said from the beginning that even at their respective bests, i don't think buck and tommy are right for each other. they both have very different needs and would both be better served finding different partners. i'll probably return to writing my joshtommy content once the ship war starts to blow over and i can sit in peace with the knowledge that im just having fun and not trying to propose that any of it will ever be canon.

the choice to make abby's ex be the same tommy was a brilliant one, and i feel like they almost... wasted it? when buck decided he should forgive tommy for leaving her the way he did (by which i mean josh convinced him he needed to feel a certain way, more on that later as i said), it was the perfect opportunity to have tommy go, um, actually, im the one who has a problem with it now, bye. that would have really cemented the sort of avoidant behavior and lack of close emotional attachment they'd been characterizing tommy with up until that point. so to have it come back around to the same sort of hang up with buck's inexperience instead was a bit strange.

that said, i DO love their decision to put buck in breakup green and ask tommy to move in. the way my stomach dropped in that moment because i knew it was over, they were breaking up, etc. because he was doing it again. once again he was unsure about the relationship and then immediately overcompensated by proposing a major step forward. i think it was a great choice to showcase this again because realizing he's bisexual didn't change the Behaviors. he's still on the hamster wheel. and of course the final name drop change from evan to buck was just soooo. chef's kiss. no notes.

anyway thats all ive got right this second i'll hit yall with a second post about the josh and buck of it all later on (potentially not even tonight depending on how smoothly writing it goes but hopefully sooner than later.) please try to be normal and not kill each other today folks <3 at the end of the day this is a fictional television procedural about first responders, and the real world has enough problems without inventing more things to be mad at.

[neonsbian]

hi vinnie <3 since you’re like my resident writing oomf i gotta ask: do you have any tips on motivating & inspiring yourself to write and get through a writer’s block? seeing you post about your writing is so inspiring but i’ve been struggling for months now rip </3

hmmm tbh i dont rlly have a good answer for you other than teach yourself self-discipline. ive been writing for almost a decade (crazy to think abt lol) and in that time ive basically had to teach myself to commit to writing.

writing is just like any other artform, it's a skill that you build gradually by practicing consistently. the best way to do this is to come up with a goal in your mind and actually work towards this. i don't mean like, deciding you want to write a novel and just writing right away (though that does work for some people) but building steps to slowly achieve that goal.

let's say you want to write a novel. great! the first thing i would do is find time in my schedule to write. a lot of people assume that means sitting down for hours at a time and just typing away but finding time to do that in todays society isnt easy and personally, it's more effective for me to find gaps and short moments to just write for a bit. for me, the most writing gets done when im constrained for time. and you don't have to do it all at once! you can write a little bit at different points of the day too.

i also plan what im going to write before i write it. this doesn't mean i outline necessarily (i don't do that until the second draft) but before writing a scene, ill have a vague idea of what i want to happen in that scene. sometimes it changes as im writing but i never go into writing without a vague idea of what's going to happen.

i think setting a daily goal for yourself is really important. i know writing everyday seems kinda daunting, especially if you didnt do that before but like i said, writing is a skill you build gradually by practicing consistently and you have to be consistent. your daily goal can be a certain page count, word count, or chapter count. whatever works for you. i personally don't rlly like using quantifiable units as my daily goal bc that makes me like check the word count obsessively and prefer to use story markers as my goal instead. basically, i decide before writing i want to reach a certain point in the story by the end of the day. sometimes im in over my head and have to adjust, but it's more useful to think abt it that way for me.

also, if you're just starting out, i would make my daily goal relatively simple and easy to achieve. if word count is how you're counting it, then i'd set it to like 500 words. you might feel frustrated with how slow your progress is but it's more effective to slowly build a story than to write a huge chunk in a short amount of time and then never touch it again. and even if the progress is slow, at least progress is happening!

i know a lot of people have said this but you're also gonna have to allow yourself to write badly. i feel like this something that's difficult to implement into your mindset but it's essential to teach yourself this or else you'll never get anything done. shitty writing doesn't mean you're a shitty writer, it just means that your writing needs more work and the only way to achieve that is by working on it consistently.

i also personally think it's helpful to read the writing processes of other writers and try doing them yourself. lauren groff, for example, writes her entire second draft from memory which sounded absolutely insane to me but i tried it for one of my short stories. that method didn't really work for me but from her method helped me improve my own system. basically for scenes that were in the first draft but were going to be changed pretty drastically, i don't open my first draft at all and just write the scene. every writer's process is different and what works for one writer isn't always going to work for you, but it's still worth a shot to try it and one way or another, it'll help you understand yourself as a writer better.

to me, writing is self-discipline as much as it's art and building a system that works for you is going to take some time but it's necessary to achieve what you're hoping to achieve.

this ended up being longer than i expected but tldr: set a goal, do it everyday 👍

[night-dark-woods]

hi everyone please wish me luck not slaughtering my egotistical manchild coworkers who have repeatedly lied to my fucking face please. thank you.

events under the cut bc my complaining got so long.

- i am the inventory coordinator. it is my literal formal job title. i count the inventory i shoot the outs i handle item replacements when something is discontinued, price changes, defectives/thefts, and product resets.

- this role does not actually give me the authority to scold people it just makes it my responsibility to fix. i get my job done by doing an elaborate dance of staying on everyone's good side like a spy going through bank vault lasers.

- gay republican dickhead hardware manager (i am one of two people who has an even marginally good working relationship with him. but he will never be fired bc the store owner likes him) has decided that im not doing outs as frequently as he wants (it was holiday season. and i had covid. and also no one recovers their fucking sections so a 7 section aisle takes me an hour bc the old hardware men are too busy talking about how back in their day domestic abuse was fine to front and face).

- he decided a month ago to delegate this to the guy who has literally had his product ordering privileges revoked for ordering five THOUSAND key rings and FIFTEEN HUNDRED YARDSTICKS. because he doesnt understand order multiples.

- we had an argument about it bc i have CHECKED this man's work before and literally half of them were wrong, and i asked him POLITELY not to fucking count. he has tried to zero the same item that people love to take off the hook and leave sitting on the shelf below it. SIX TIMES. in the last few months. SIX. TIMES. it has been SITTING on the SHELF in FULL VIEW. and he has tried to zero it.

- i thought this was settled, because Gay Republican has been checking in with me before counting stuff.

- today i came in and Incompetent Guy had some stuff in the counting program (unfinalized). i was like okay fine whatever. ill check on it before i finalize what i have to do. and then i went to do it and his stuff was gone! and i was like huh. hey Gay Republican did you finalize it? and he was like no. and i was like huh. so i check the record and Incompetent Guy finalized it HIMSELF.

- this retroactively makes sense of all the times he's Skedaddled avoiding eye contact away from the computer when i come over to do smth, like a dog with something in its mouth it knows it shouldnt have.

- i lose my shit in the back to a different coworker and also text the gm about how to pull his permissions, he definitely overhears me. i also complain to store manager.

- i figure out how to pull permissions and do it.

- Incompetent Guy (who has been avoiding me) walks by me an hour later and then makes a joke to Gay Republican about how he's "going to have to start taking notes again."

FUCKING. MAYBE DONT GO BEHIND MY BACK TRYING TO DO MY JOB WHEN YOU CANT DO IT AND IVE EXPLICITLY ASKED YOU NOT TO!!!

if youre WORRIED im not on top of it. or you WANT me to delegate. FUCKING TELL ME LIKE A CIVIL ADULT. dont go behind my FUCKING BACK like a CHILD.

because this ALL ENDS UP MY PROBLEM TO FUCKING FIX IN THE END. and if you just LET ME DO MY LITERAL JOB. AND DO YOUR OWN. it will take me TWENTY MINUTES. but instead we have to be FUCKING children about it and heres the thing i WILL win the fucking blackmail backstab game if you want to play that way!!! because im on fucking everyones good side!!!

[sugaakookiee]

All the Time in the World | JJK |

Title: All the Time in the World

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst

Word count: 5.5K

Posting day: 122723

Summary: You meet a cute boy at the hospital that was in a wheelchair. He brought you more joy than you’ve ever seen since you got admitted. He makes you wish you had all the time in the world.

Warnings: based on JK’s storyline in HYYH, reader has a terminal illness (not specified), death of reader, JK sings to her the night before she dies (if I’m missing a warning, please let me know)

(AN: This is the first thing that I’ve put out that I’ve written out of my BTS fics, so it might not be so great but I’m getting better every day haha)

Today was just another day of you sitting by the window and looking out of your hospital room. Since you got admitted here a month and a half ago, the days never seem to change. You wake up, maybe throw up for five minutes, stare outside your window until breakfast, eat breakfast, then go back to the window until lunch, eat lunch, then go back to the window until dinner, eat dinner, then go back to the window until Lights Out. You couldn't say that you were eating; it was more like taking in whatever you could stomach every meal.

It wasn't like anybody was keeping you in your room. You could leave anytime. Your nurses and parents sometimes plead with you to go outside, that it's not good to be in your room. You know it's not good to be locked in all day, but what's the point of enjoying life if life doesn't want you to enjoy it? For the millionth time since you've been here, you look down at your hands to see the back of your left hand occupied by a needle held down by white tape. Next, you look up next to you to see your IV drip on the pole.

You were dying, and instead of your parents leaving you at home, they put you here. They said it was to make it clear that being here can make you feel better, but you knew, and they knew there was no way out. Whether it was here or at home, you were going to die. While the doctors say it wouldn't be anytime soon, your negative thoughts are already catching up. The only way you can describe yourself when you look in the mirror is Hell; you had prominent eye bags, your hair was thinning out, and you were losing weight from how little you were eating.

Your session of wallowing in your self-pity is interrupted by knocks on the door. You didn't even look at who it could be because only one person comes to your room during early mornings. It was none other than one of your nurses, Nabi.

"Good morning," She says while opening the door, holding a tray. She places it on a table next to your bed. "How are you feeling? Did you throw up today?" She looks at you to see you shake your head. That's another thing that's changed since you've been here; you haven't said a word to anyone.

"That's a relief to hear. There is your breakfast, and your parents called to let me know they're coming today." You weren't sure why Nurse Nabi had to tell you that your parents were coming to see you. She has done that since you have been here, and you were sure visitors could come without calling in. You figured they called in to make sure you were still alive.

You lazily get off the chair you were sitting in, dragging your IV pole with you, and return to bed to eat breakfast. Unfortunately, because of your illness, you had a weak stomach, so soft foods were your best friends.

You stare blankly at your tray for a few moments: a small bowl of oatmeal, banana slices, plain yogurt, and a glass of water. You felt a hand move your hair out of your face. You look up to see Nabi, who is still in your room.

"You know, your birthday is in about six months, and I think it would be great that you make it to 18." She said. While she never heard you talk, you and Nabi enjoyed each other's company. You remember one time she said that you gave her the least hard time compared to everyone else she has to watch, which is something she is not supposed to say, but you won't tell anyone.

When you finally looked at Nabi, she flashed you a quick grin before speaking again, "Anyway, eat what you can. Your parents will be here in a bit." You nod to confirm that you heard her. You only start to eat after Nabi leaves the room, taking in small spoonfuls each time. When Nabi closes the door, she starts taking deep breaths to control her tears, knowing the chances of living to your birthday are slim.

After a visit from your parents and a check to see how much you have eaten, which, luckily, was half of everything, you go back to your window until lunchtime. As you look outside, you hear your father clear his throat to get your attention.

"Well, we'll see you next time. I'll go talk to Nabi, then we can go." He said, directing to your mother. He leaves the room, leaving you with your mother. You could sense her coming up behind you and putting both hands on your shoulders.

"You wanna go outside before we leave, baby?" She asked softly, only for you to shake your head. She sighs at your response, "You can't be in here all day. It's not good for you." You shrug. At this point, you didn't care.

~~~

"Nabi, come on, you have to give us something." Your father says.

"Mr. YLN, I know you and your wife sent her here so she can get better, but this isn't something we can fix. Maybe it's time we send her home-"

"No!" He interrupts Nabi loudly, making her jump in surprise. "No." He says again quietly. "There has to be something you can do. It's like she's already dead, and I can't stand it. Try getting her spirits up. Make her go outside, do something. I mean, there has to be someone here she can be friends with."

"I'll see what I can do."

When they finish their conversation, your father returns to your room to retrieve your mother so they can leave. Once your parents depart from the hospital, Nabi thinks about the short chat with your father, and she knows what she can do for you.

~~~

With your parents gone, you spent the rest of the time at the window. Things were the same most of the time: it was sunny most days, sometimes cloudy, and at times, you saw other patients walking around in the garden to get fresh air. Sometimes, you don't know how long you've been looking out the window as your mind wanders, wishing you were in places that weren't here.

The sounds of knocks echo through your room again. You look up at the clock, only to realize it's lunchtime.

"YN, It's lunchtime," Nabi says as she opens the door, placing the tray on the table she used before. You look back at her, then return your gaze to the window. She lets out a sigh, "Come on, YN. I have something to talk to you about. I think I'll make you happy."

Once you lay back in your bed, you stare blankly at your tray again: a small bowl of chili, sliced strawberries, cubes of gelatin, and a glass of water. You could only wait for Nabi to say whatever she wanted to say. Before she starts, she opens a drawer next to the bed to get a hairbrush from inside. It was yours, but you stopped using it when your hair started thinning.

"You know..." She starts speaking, brushing my hair, "Upstairs, there's a boy around your age. I think he's a bit older than you, a year maybe." Upstairs? You've been here long enough to know that the floor after this one is where they held the patients who had paralysis. "He's been here for a little over three weeks. He's just starting to use his wheelchair. You could, you know, make a friend. Maybe after lunch, I could take you to the floor."

As she finishes talking, she holds onto all your hair and ties it into a loose, low ponytail, "What do you say, hm?" Nabi tries to prompt an answer from you, but you only shrug, "Well, I'm going to be outside if you wanna go." She takes her leave soon after so you can eat lunch or whatever you can eat.

After about an hour, you're finally out of your room, looking for Nabi. You had to blink a few times to get used to the lights in the hallway. It had been a long time since you stepped out of your room. Once your eyes are focused, you see Nabi, who sees you from the corner of her eye while talking to another nurse.

You see her excuse herself from the discussion with the nurse and walk towards you. "You wanna go?" You nod. "Okay, let me take back your tray, and I can take you there." Before she can move, you shake your head. "What? What's wrong?" Nabi asked, and you only pointed at yourself, "You wanna go alone?" You nod once again. "Okay, just remember, you have to talk."

Once on the upper floor, you started looking for a boy around your age in a wheelchair, pushing your pole along with you. Maybe he was still in his room or the garden outside. Nabi never told you what room he was in, so you wanted to call it quits until tomorrow. Well, almost. Right before you turn the corner to the elevators, you hear the sound of squeaking wheels. You turn towards the direction of the noise to see a boy, the boy Nabi was talking about.

You could tell he was still trying to get used to being in the chair by the strength he was putting into pushing himself. Each push made him look at the floor, allowing you to move to get his attention. As he rolls closer, you hold out your right arm, hoping he will notice you and stop. When he's two feet from hitting you, he stops moving the wheelchair.

He lifts his head to look at you, then tilts it in confusion. You stare at him for a few moments before turning your hand to shake his. Once he figures out what you want, he reaches his hand out to shake yours. You both hold on to each other's hand when they make contact.

~~~

"So..." The boy started. You both were in the sitting area, which was vacant, "Why are you here?" You weren't sure how to answer that. How could you say that you were dying and didn't want to be here? "Not much of a talker, I see. I can go first. Believe it or not, I'm a dancer. I was walking home after practice, and it was dark. I was being an idiot, and I didn't look both ways when I crossed the street, and I got hit by a car. When I woke up, they told me I was lucky that I was paralyzed only from the waist down. I was worried I wouldn't be able to walk again, but they said the chances of me walking again were high. Anyway, it's your turn."

You weren't sure how you would sound after not talking for a month and a half. Do you even remember what you sound like? Your mouth seems to work faster than your brain as you start talking without your control, "I'm sick." Those were the first words you've said since being here. "They said that I'm..." How would he react if you told him you didn't know how much time you had? You couldn't. "They told me that sometimes it will feel like I'm dying, but it would get worse before it gets better. It's scary sometimes, to be honest."

"That's good - not the dying part, I mean. At least you know you'll get out of here eventually." He says. Oh, how much you wanted to tell him you'd leave the building, just not from the front door. "Oh, I just realized we never introduced ourselves to each other. I'm Jungkook." He sticks out his hand, presumably to shake yours. You take a hold of his to shake it, "I'm YN."

You wake up feeling all the contents in your stomach coming up your throat. You throw the covers off yourself and rush into the bathroom, fall onto your knees, and throw up last night’s dinner into the toilet bowl. You should be used to this by now, but it never stops feeling like metal spoons are coming down. As it goes on, your eyes fill with tears, and you feel the bile burning your throat.

When you finish, you grab a few sheets of toilet paper and wipe your mouth. You sigh at the paper, becoming drenched in a dark red substance. It’s not been great seeing blood coming out of your mouth for the past few weeks. You throw away the paper in the trash bin, seeing the pile of bloodied paper coming up the brim.

You don’t know how long you can do this for. If it’s going to keep getting insufferable, you don’t want to be here anymore.

You collapse on the floor of the bathroom, feeling your eyes close. You want to fall asleep on the cold floor, not wanting to deal with the day. You open them up when you hear knocks on the door and the noisy hinges when it opens.

“Good morning, YN,” Nabi’s voice echoes through your room. You hear her sigh as she sees your IV pole in the bathroom, the figure of your body on the floor, placing your breakfast tray down, and the sound of her shoes coming closer to you. She stops at the doorway, seeing you lying on the floor, “You okay? Come on, get up.” She grabs you firmly and pulls you up to your feet, “Let’s lay you down in bed.”

You walk weakly back to your bed, feeling the pain in your throat and stomach still prevalent, “You lay down, and I’ll get you something else to eat, then we gotta change your needle.” Nabi continued. You glance down at your left hand, seeing a large purple bruise from all the needles of your IV. You wince as you climb back to bed and lie down. Nabi gently moves your hair out of the way of your eyes, smiling sadly at the discoloration on your face, “I’ll be back.” She says before taking the tray and leaving the room.

You fall asleep for about 10 minutes before being woken by knocks at your door. Nabi came in again, “I got you soup,” she said, placing the tray in front of you and a new needle to switch out the old one that she placed on the drawer next to your bed, “Also, a special someone told me to give this to you.” She reaches into her pockets and pulls out a Binggrae Strawberry banana milk carton with a sticky note pasted on it.

‘Nabi told me you weren’t feeling so good, so I got you this. I’ll meet you outside in the garden after breakfast :) - JK.’

Although you wanted to sleep for the rest of the day because you feel sick, maybe going outside will do you good. You didn’t know why, but ever since you met Jungkook, you’ve been getting up more and going outside, something your parents tried and failed to get you to do. After you manage to eat about half of your soup, drink almost all the milk, and Nabi changes your IV needle, you get out of bed to make your way to the garden outside.

Before you met Jungkook, when you didn’t go outside, the garden always seemed like a small place. It didn’t look that big from your window, but being there was a different experience. The garden had all kinds of flowers, all thanks to the patients on the downstairs floors, which was the mental hospital section, who used gardening as a sort of therapy. Sometimes, you saw kids running around as patients would have kids visiting.

As you approach the garden closer, you see Jungkook sitting on a bench. You shout to get his attention, but you soon realize he has his earphones in, leaving your shouts unheard. Once you get closer to him, you place a hand on his shoulder and pull off one of his earbuds, slightly making him jump.

“Hey.” You said, your voice slightly shaky from your morning sickness. He has a small notebook and a pencil in his hands.

“Hey.” He said back, “How are you feeling? Nabi said you felt sick.” He continued with concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine, Jungkook, don’t worry.” You sit next to him on the bench, making him move one of his walking sticks to the other side next to him.

“I have to worry, we’re friends.” You roll your eyes at his reply. Although you were the one who approached him, you weren’t very used to having friends, especially being here. Before you signed into the hospital, you had a handful of friends who never came to see you, but your parents would say that they asked for you.

“Did you like your present?” Jungkook asked, referencing the banana milk he bought you with a silly smile on his face.

“Yes, I did, and I thought I told you to stop buying them for me. You only get so much money once a week that your parents give you.” You rue the day you told Jungkook you liked Strawberry milk when he offered to buy you one passing by a vending machine. Now, when he finds out you’re sick or feeling down, he drops off a carton to Nabi so she can bring it to you.

“If it makes you feel better, I bought one for myself too.” You playfully slap him on the shoulder at his reply, then just let the peaceful silence of the outside take over the space. You look over to see Jungkook sketching in his notebook. The more you watch him, the more you can see a butterfly. For some reason, you’ve never seen them fly around here. Maybe they don’t vibe with the sick and injured. Well, you have seen only one, which made your day every day.

The more you sit here next to him, the more you replay this morning’s events, and before you know it, you speak. “Hey, Jungkook.” Your voice breaks the comfortable silence, “How come you decided to be my friend?”

Jungkook halts his sketching, hearing your question, then chuckles, “Need I remind you that you approached me first.” He replies to your question and then returns to his sketch.

“I know I did, but usually, when a person doesn’t want to be friends with someone, they don’t buy them things or talk to them much the next day.”

Jungkook puts down his notebook once again, “YN before I met you, I was in a coma for two weeks, and I didn’t know how I was going push myself to walk again. When I woke up, I thought about how I had to give up dancing, and that’s all I had. Maybe I would’ve eventually, but not as fast as I have. I mean, I’ve been here for three months, and I’m already using crutches.”

“What does that have to do with me?” How can a terminally ill girl like you give someone the will to return to who they were before?

“Maybe I just needed someone who knew what I was going through. Maybe we aren’t in the same boat, but we are in the same ocean.”

Maybe we aren’t in the same boat, but we are in the same ocean.

Yeah, except one day, your life is going to end, and Jungkook’s is going to continue. You two have known each other for three months, and yet, he still doesn’t know. He can’t.

“YN!” They both look behind them to see Nabi. She signals her to come inside, “Your parents are here!”

You can barely breathe now, sensing pending doom travels through your body. That’s one of the disadvantages of dying, your body knows. You don’t hurl out your food anymore, but that’s just because you can’t. Your throat burns all the time, and you can't eat or drink. You couldn’t even drink the Strawberry milk Jungkook would buy you, no matter how Nabi or you told him to stop buying them.

You’ve got boxes of tissues nearby, as you’ve been coughing up blood now, instead of it happening when you empty your stomach. You can’t sleep now, not knowing if you’re going to wake up the next morning or not, having to feel the sense of death every day until your body finally gives up.

You check the clock for the millionth time, seeing it read 11:40. If your body decides to shut down after that clock turns 12, that would surely be the worst time to die. You’d be okay with any other day, but not tomorrow. It can be the next day, just not tomorrow. You freeze when you hear soft knocks on the door. You know it’s not Nurse Yomi doing her night checks, so it can only be one person.

The door opens enough for the boy to let himself in, awkwardly trying to fit along with his crutches in the small gap.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper loud enough for only him to hear.

“I’m worried. I haven’t seen you in a week, and Nabi is vague about what’s happening.”

“Well, if you’ve seen me now, you can go, Jungkook.”

“What is that?” You can see he’s gesturing to a trash bin next to your bed filled with bloodied tissues. He wasn’t supposed to see that.

“It’s…it’s nosebleeds. They have me on this new medication, and it makes me have nosebleeds.” If Jungkook knew how you’ve lied to him about your health, he’d never forgive you.

“Is that why you can’t sleep?” You nod slightly at his question. He looks around the room, sees the chair in your room, and pulls it closer to your bed, trying to create as little noise as possible. He sits in the chair, places his crutches in a stable place, and grabs your right hand, being as gently as he can, “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep then.”

“You’ll get in trouble.” You said, trying to convince him to leave.

“It’s whatever. Besides, I know Nabi will have my back.”

As the time goes on, the sense of doom is getting bigger. You know you might not last the night, but it would be better if it happened during sleep.

“Jungkook?” You whisper, thinking that he might be asleep before you are. He quickly proves you wrong.

“Yeah?” He whispers back.

“Can you sing?” Your voice breaks as you ask.

“Sing? I guess. I only sing for myself, honestly. If you want me to.” You nod. “Okay.” He clears his throat before he starts singing as quietly as he can.

No limit in the sky

That I won't fly for you

No amount of tears in my eyes

That I won't cry for you

With every breath that I take

I want you to share that air with me

There's no promise that I won't keep

I'll climb a mountain there's none too steep

When it comes to you

There's no crime

Let's take both of our souls

And intertwine

When it comes to you

Don't be blind

Watch me speak from my heart

When it comes to you

Comes to you

Want you to share that

Cupid ain't a lie

Arrow got your name on it

Don't miss out on a love

And regret yourself on it

Open up your mind, clear your head

Ain't gotta wake up to an empty bed

Share my life, it's yours to keep

Now that I give to you all of me

When it comes to you

There's no crime

Let's take both of our souls

And intertwine

When it comes to you

As you hear Jungkook’s voice, you feel your eyelids getting heavy. The pad of his thumb gently touches your knuckles to soothe you, making you fall asleep faster. He notices that your breathing slows down as he’s ending his song. Your grip on his hand is lost as you drift off to dreamland. He waits in the room for a few moments to confirm that you are sleeping, then takes it as his cue to leave. He wasn’t sure if he could sleep. He was too excited to show you a surprise in the morning.

All this time of you pleading to end your suffering had paid off cause as the clock turned to 12:01, you took your last breath, and your heart stopped.

~~~

After sleeping for a few hours, Jungkook gets up to see you. Although he had been still using his crutches, he’d been able to walk regularly for the last few days, and he wanted to surprise you for your birthday, walking through the halls with his own two legs.

“You ready to go home, Jungkook?” He hears his mother ask, “You know I can’t let you be here too long after you’ve healed.”

“I know, I know, just one more day, just today, then I’ll go home.” He heard her sigh before continuing to talk, “Oh, you did bring the flowers I asked for, right, Mom?”

“Yeah, although I don’t know you wanted these specifically.” She said, referring to the mini bouquet of Baby’s Breath flowers in her hand.

Jungkook shrugs before responding, “I saw somewhere that they mean new beginnings, and since it’s her birthday, maybe things will start turning around, and she’ll get better.”

“Jungkook, seriously, what do you plan on doing when you’re out of the hospital? YN is still here. I know you meant well when you became friends with her, but what are you doing after today?”

Jungkook can only shrug again, “I’ll visit to hang out with her. It won’t be the same, but I hope she’ll be okay with me not being here sometimes.” He gestured to his mother to hand him the mini bouquet, “Anyway, I’ll be back. She should be awake by now.”

As he walked through the halls, Jungkook could only imagine your reaction, seeing him walk after six months of recovery. He quickly intakes the smell of the mini bouquet, imagining all the possible outcomes.

He opens the door to your room but doesn’t see you. He doesn’t see any of your belongings. It’s like as if you were never here. The more he looks around to see the lack of your presence, Jungkook replays last night and all the other conversations he had with you. All the signs were there. He drops his flowers to his side as realization dawns upon him.

He recounts the time he asked you why you were in the hospital. You hesitated to answer him before giving him a response. You didn’t tell him the whole truth.

"They told me that sometimes it will feel like I’m dying, but it would get worse before it gets better. It's scary sometimes, to be honest."

He recounts the trash bin that was almost filled to the brim with bloodied tissues from last night. You lied about that as well.

“It’s…it’s nosebleeds. They have me on this new medication, and it makes me have nosebleeds.”

He recounts how you asked him to sing because you couldn’t sleep. His voice was the last one you wanted to hear before death decided to take you away.

“Can you sing?” Your voice breaks as you ask.

How could he be so stupid? How could he not realize that the whole time you’ve known each other, you’ve been dying? He practically sang you to your death last night. How could he feel about that?

~~~

While Jungkook was having an epiphany in your empty hospital room, Nabi was sitting on the floor of a janitor's closet. She needed as much privacy as she could get, crying her eyes out for the millionth time she was reading a letter you left her when this would happen.

You knew that they’d clear out everything from your room, and no matter the time it would happen, you had to make sure she received it.

Your night shift nurse, Yomi, had been doing her checks and opened your door at around 12:30 and noticed you weren’t breathing. They did whatever they could, but it was clear that you had been dead for some time already.

While clearing your room, staff found a letter in your drawer that only said ‘For Nabi.’ She only found out that you passed away when she came in to do her daytime shift. It hurt more today, as she had a cake prepared for you, proud that you made it your 18th birthday.

Nabi scans her eyes over your writing, her vision blurry from her tears.

‘Nabi, if you’re reading this, my time has run out. I’ve planned to write this up for months, and I’ve written now in case I’m too weak to do so later. I hope that it finds you well. All I wish to say is thank you for being there for me. I know that at the start, I was a headache for you, but I opened up eventually. You never gave up on me when I didn’t want to go outside or talked about the fact that I just wanted to die. Thanks to you, I met Jungkook, and it was the both of you who kept me going for a bit longer while I was in the hospital. I’m not sure when I will pass, but whenever that will be, I hope that I did the most with my time left.

From the seven and a half months we’ve known each other, I can tell you that you made my day every day. While in the hospital, I was heartbroken that I couldn’t see any butterflies. I felt like life was dull without them, not seeing them through my window or in the garden. Thank you for helping me see a butterfly. They’re truly as beautiful as your name, Nabi.’

As she finishes reading over the letter again, her tears uncontrollably stream down her face, hugging the paper close to her chest.

~~~

Jungkook returns to his room, feeling a mixture of rage and sadness. The mini boutique of flowers smashed in his hand, now white from the pressure. He was so enraged at himself that he almost forgot his mother was still there.

“So, how did it go?” She asked, assuming it didn’t go well from the expression on his face and the flowers still in his hands.

“Bad, Mom, very bad.” He pauses for a moment, “She’s dead.” Even when he’s said it, it still doesn’t feel real. His mother covers her mouth with her hands, in shock at the news.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry-“ His mother started, getting closer to him for a hug before Jungkook interrupted her, making her jump.

“She lied, Mom! She lied to me about everything, and I should have known!”

“Sweetheart, nobody would have known-“

“You don’t understand! If I just listened more, I would have known that was happening!” Tears appear in his eyes, recalling everything that happened, “The first day I met YN, she told me that she was dying and I wasn’t listening. I believed her when she said she would get better. She was getting sicker every day, and I didn’t see it. I was her friend! I was supposed to know! And last night! I was an idiot to believe she was getting nosebleeds like she said.”

Before Jungkook knew it, he wrapped his arms around his mother, releasing his tears onto her shoulder.

“She asked me to sing to her, Mom.” He whispered against her shoulder, “Last night, she asked me to sing to her. She said she couldn’t sleep, so I did. She was okay when I left the room.”

His mother hushes him and gently caresses the back of his head, comforting him. “I know, sweetheart, it’s okay. She’s going to be okay now.”

After some time, Jungkook stopped crying and started packing his stuff to go home. There was no reason for him to stay anymore, so there was no choice but to leave, and while clearing his drawer from the various sketches and drawings he had done while in the hospital, a page slipped from the pile and fell on the floor. He looks down to see the sketch of the butterfly he did while waiting for you in the garden. His eyes travel to the bottom right corner of the page, which has an excerpt of a poem he wrote sometime before being admitted to the hospital that he had named after the creature.

곁에 머물러줄래

내게 약속해줄래

손 대면 날아갈까 부서질까

겁나 겁나 겁나

시간을 멈출래

이 순간이 지나면

없었던 일이 될까 널 잃을까

겁나 겁나 겁나

The full poem was about wanting your loved ones to not succumb to their mental illness and having the fear of letting them go or else they’ll fly away like a butterfly. It also speaks about wanting to be able to stop time from passing and to hold on to each other forever. After reading the small part that he had written on the page, he can’t help but blame himself, feeling his eyes fill with tears once again. He shouldn’t have let go of your hand last night. If he hadn’t, maybe you’d have all the time in the world.

[indigo474]

Hi My name is April.. I'm into skipping rocks and making fires. Ha. I went to the woods to run but gathered sticks instead so i can build fires. I'm probably going to need more wood. I had a great day. I lifted heavy- 2 days in a row. I do enjoy lifting heavy things. I can't seem to get past 100 lbs for my upper body. It's a bit frustrating. Lower body- I've never NOT lifted whatever .. 165 dead lift- split squats.. push, pull- we talked about addictions- food addictions. it's such a horrible cycle- i don't believe anyone who is morbidly overweight is actually happy. I know I wasnt - i used food to stuff my emotions for years and years.. even now, if shit goes down between me and Madison i'll find myself in the kitchen looking for something to eat. actually- it was a while ago that happened. In our apartment- i recognized what was happening.. we rarely have any type of binge food the house now. There were a few things i had to tell Madison to not buy anymore.. I actually used running as a way to deal with the stress of buying my home. so, there is hope- but its hard and takes self awareness.. there is the hard of making the right food choice and logging and prepping or there is the hard of self loathing and feeling like crap-both are hard. We got to talking about this because of a guy i work with.. he is so big he has to sit in a special chair and he has a hard time walking to the bathroom.. its scary.

this is the 4th Christmas i wont be seeing my kids. I am debating sending them their Christmas ornaments and stockings and things that belong to them. I'm ready to let the stuff go. I'm just ready to let go. it is what is is and life goes on. Ive cried a million tears. I carry no bitterness or anger in my heart for them.. only love. its their stuff and i want to make room for new things.. things that bring me joy. I'll gather it together and decide what to .

I got a lot done today. I slept in until 8. I would like to run tomorrow. I'm not sure how my legs will feeling the morning. Madison wants to hang out with me before she foes to work. My left knee has been hurting since Thursday. It actually feels ok right now- motrin. Its not swollen.. I swear every time i ask the universe to show me how good my life can be it delivers. I do believe I am the creator of my life- while i am incredibly grateful for the career i have i am open to something new- i don't know the details.. even if i start some sort of side hustle .. so much to do.. but yes, i am pretty much open to anything. I am hoping 2024 is the year i finally meet someone.. i dont know if i should get back on the dating apps .. i am not a fan.. i cant imagine anyone is a fan,.. just awful. I need going out cloths.. I need to .. have sex with someone other than myself.

[nutteu]

a place for us, in the cradle of your lungs [Chapter IV]

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[AO3] [AO3 Chapter II] [AO3 Chapter III] [AO3 Chapter IV] [AO3 Chapter V] [moonsea series]

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“You can’t keep holing up in this sad excuse of a nest,” Khonshu said from the door.

Jake glared at him because that stupid bird really didn’t know how to tone down his voice. He looked at Steven, sighing when the man was still asleep despite the disturbance. “Fuck off,” he grumbled. “I’m not doing anything today.”

“It’s been almost a week,” Khonshu deadpanned. “You’re going to get fired.”

“By whom?” Jake asked back, not caring in the slightest. “By my boss? By you? I don’t mind either way.”

“This is ridiculous!” the old god roared out, yanking Jake out of the bed until he toppled over to the floor. “You have the responsibility as my avatar! Not this! You can play house all you want with this pathetic worm, but you have to remember that you are bound to me by something more than a fractured soul.”

“My god, you’re so cranky in the morning,” Jake said to the ceiling. He glanced over when tufts of curly hair appeared on the edge of the bed, Steven’s sleepy smile soft and gentle as he slid from the mattress to where Jake was, curling around him as if nothing amiss had happened. “I can’t move. I have a barnacle I have to take care of.”

Khonshu let out a plethora of expletives, but Jake didn’t pay him no mind. He’d do what Khonshu wanted at the end of the day. Just—not now. Not when the traces of fear were still very much present on the back of his tongue, when there was a fragile tension between him and Steven, when he couldn’t admit to himself that he held Steven tighter when they slept. Not even Anubis said anything about his sudden overprotectiveness, though Jake suspected that the mongrel knew what this was about.

“I’m going to give you one day. One day,” Khonshu said threateningly, then disappeared in a dramatic flurry of wind and pages of the book ruffled about.

When the god was gone, Steven lifted his head, mischief apparent in the twinkle of his eyes as he said, “Breakfast.” Motherfucker knew and had heard Khonshu, and chose to ignore the god all the same. Cheeky little shit.

Jake smiled back at him. “Yeah, breakfast.”

He pulled through with his promise of not doing anything that day. Just spending his time watching Steven’s movements carefully, as he had done for the past week. Anubis appeared sometimes, but Jake ignored the knowing look in his dark eyes, the air of solemnity around him when he touched Steven. He didn’t know what that was all about, and the possibilities made him sick to the stomach. So, he tried not to think about them.

He didn’t read Steven the many books the man had in the apartment. Instead, he told Steven of fairy tales in a language that he had adopted from the streets of New York. Steven didn’t seem to understand a word that he said, but he listened nonetheless, sitting between Jake’s parted legs on the floor. His eyes never strayed from Jake’s face, fingers fiddling with loose threads on his sweatpants. He looked hung-up, like Jake was the only thing that could ever mean something to him. It was a familiar look, one that Jake had seen aimed at Marc instead.

It felt gratifying still, to be the center of Steven’s attention, the center of his small world as of now. Steven didn’t make him feel like a replacement, a knock-off version of Marc, one that was more violent and harsh than the man that Steven had come to care for. There was nothing but sincerity and affection in his gaze, and at times it was too much for Jake to handle. But he didn’t look away—not anymore, this time.

“I thought you’d love fairytales,” Jake mused out loud, caressing Steven’s jaw. “And in a way, I guess you do. But it turned out that you lean towards fairytales with gritty details and bloody ending. Even you couldn’t escape the violence within our blood, huh, querido.”

The endearment felt weird on his tongue, but Steven, despite the fact that he couldn’t possibly understand what it meant, gave him a sweet smile and a nudge to his palm. He was like a cat, Jake thought, when he was being like this. Though it could be the wrong conclusion, because cats are more likely to be elusive in their affection. A dog, perhaps—so sincere and eager in showing his fondness.

But Jake didn’t like dogs anymore, now. Not when there were still unsaid secrets that Anubis hid about Steven’s agreement with him. Whatever that Steven had asked of the god, Jake would make sure that it wouldn’t amount to anything.

He didn’t want to acknowledge another fear lodging itself between his ribs. The fear that he was mere mortals in the big cogs of engine, that he wouldn’t be able to do anything when the gods had spoken—that, perhaps, whatever it was that Jake was trying to prevent, had already happened.

When he shook off those thoughts and looked down, he found that Steven was already fast asleep, head lying on his thigh. Steven slept a lot these days, and it should worry Jake. But his coordination was improving, and he was even able to put the bread in the toaster, beaming at Jake and waiting for a pat on his head. His words were still jumbled, but Jake thought that he could recognize some of them clearer than before. Perhaps, Steven’s body was conditioning itself in the apparent efforts that the man had made to get better.

He carefully didn’t think about how this renewed tenacity was born after the night they had fought.

He took Steven’s arms in his, slipping his palms underneath each thigh to heave the man up, and carried him to the bed. Steven was used to curling around either Anubis or Jake when he slept, so Jake put a bunch of pillows on the side for the man to snuggle into, pulling up the blanket up to Steven’s chin even if he knew that it would be discarded in fifteen minutes, and he had to fix it again because if he let it be, Steven would whine and snuffle in his sleep.

There were a few messages from Marc that he hadn’t replied to, postcards he hadn’t taken a look at yet. When he first did this, he was hit by a sense of déjà vu, and he didn’t know how Marc had felt, doing all of this before. He knew that Marc was the one who kept sending messages and postcards under his mother’s name for Steven, hiding the fact that the kind, loving mother in Steven’s fabricated memories was no longer there, that she wasn’t alive anymore.

Jake felt like that, now—replying to the messages, playing the voicemails to Steven, who would listen with such gentleness in his smile, showing Steven the postcards and taking pictures of the man with them sometimes to send to Marc, just as another lie that Steven Grant was indeed living his life, that he was doing okay instead of falling apart at the seams.

Steven wasn’t awake to enact silly poses with the postcards and myriad of gifts that Layla had sent along sometimes. But Jake scooted closer to the bed nonetheless, opening the camera and snapping a picture of Steven’s sleeping face, half hidden by the pillows. He looked ridiculous, looked young. Jake swallowed and put the phone on top of the nightstand, fixing the blanket that had tangled itself on Steven’s legs.

“It smells like rotten flesh in here,” Khonshu’s booming voice was suddenly heard in the room, and Jake rolled his eyes.

“That’s you,” he quipped back, then looked at Steven. “He’s getting better. Nothing is rotting in here.”

“All the more reason you should leave him be,” Khonshu said. “Anubis has agreed to take him as his ward, has he not? Then what are you doing here, still, Jake Lockley?”

He stared at a particular curl obscuring Steven’s left eye, brushing it away with careful fingers. He didn’t want to say anything, but the words came unbidden from his mouth. “I don’t know,” he said, surprised by the honesty of it.

Khonshu was silent for a moment. “There is no use in saving the damned,” the old god finally advised, sounding weary and tired for once, instead of the petulance and haughtiness that usually colored his voice.

“You saved Marc,” Jake said.

“And that does not change the fact that Marc Spector, and all of you, has been claimed by the dark.”

“What, not even a chance of redemption after we crossed to the field of reeds?” he tried to joke. It fell flat instead. Jake couldn’t even muster a smirk.

“Perhaps you and Marc Spector still could,” Khonshu then said. “But not him. Anubis saved him from the Duat, and thus the fragment of soul that belonged to him, now resided in the afterlife for eternity.”

“Not if I can help it,” he said, knowing full well that it sounded like a farfetched dream.

“Jake,” Khonshu said, appearing right behind him, a skeletal hand draped over his shoulder. “You can wage wars against the gods, but you cannot meddle with fate.”

Steven snuffled, turning in his sleep and messing up the blanket again. Jake tucked him in regardless, securing the blankets around his legs so he wouldn’t get cold. He had had enough of Steven going cold and lifeless. “You’re wrong,” he said. “Marc’s fate was to die in that tomb. My fate was to continue being a hidden shadow. He changed that.”

“And he must suffer the consequences.”

“He just wanted to save us,” Jake whispered, closing his eyes.

“Jake,” Khonshu called out again, turning him around so they could face each other. The empty sockets where Khonshu’s eyes were supposed to be bore into Jake. He felt naked, fragile. He wanted to slip into the blanket with Steven and pretended that they were alright. Never in his life that Jake Lockley felt this vulnerable, this weak. He had always been a vicious fighter; perhaps not a warrior like Marc, not a knight like Steven. Nothing but a blade wielded by the old god. The very same old god who had taken him under his tutelage, who was regarding him with something akin to respect and the barest hint of care. “Saving will always come with a cost. It is regarded as a selfless act for a reason, for the price of saving will always be heavy, and one must be ready for the retribution. No good deed will come without consequences.”

“Everyone is damned, is that what you’re saying?” he asked, laughing humorlessly. When Khonshu didn’t say anything, he pushed. “What? Even the gods?”

“You need not concern yourself with something bigger than your mortal life, Jake,” Khonshu said instead. “That is why, I ask of you to leave him be. This is something even I cannot control. You are helpless in the face of Steven Grant’s fate.”

He closed his eyes and turned away, grappling for the edge of the blanket in fear of waking Steven up if he were to hold his hand so suddenly. “No,” he said as he opened his eyes, conviction ringing clear in his syllable. “He’s mine to do with. I won’t let something as ridiculous as fate meddle with what is within my right.”

“Then you are a bigger fool than what I have thought,” Khonshu said, and left them alone, gusts of wind in the still apartment room the only sign he was ever there.

Jake lifted the edge of the blanket, then, sliding in and letting out a soft sigh when Steven instinctively turned to nudge his head against Jake’s shoulder. He wrapped an arm around the man, fingers running through the tangle of curls because he forgot to brush them this morning, thinking of the mess he had found himself neck-deep in.

Goddamned Steven Grant with his kind heart. If he just let them be, they wouldn’t be in this predicament. But then, Marc would forever be in Khonshu’s tight grip; they’d spend their shared life with blood on their hands; Jake wouldn’t know how much of a hassle it was to take care of Steven, and he couldn’t have known how it felt to be something more than anger, than being a cold-blooded murderer: to be the Jake whom Steven waited for each night to come home, to be the Jake whom Steven smiled at and held as if he was a stolen heartbeat.

“Jake,” Steven whispered, eyes closed still as he pawed at Jake’s shirt.

He pulled the man closer into his chest, burying his face in the tangled curls. “I’m here,” he said, and felt Steven relax further into him. “I’m gonna save you, little dove. Be damned with fate.”

Perhaps he was painting an even bigger target on his back, swaddling himself in layers and layers of bad omen by taunting the universe. But what was he supposed to do, other than fought, the way he had done all his life? He’d fight for this, too, he decided.

Even if it was hopeless, even if Jake knew that it was futile, even if the price would be more than what he could afford.

(Even if they were damned, and Steven had never asked to be saved.)

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