#truly............'go to michaels' broke me

[justicecaballer]

finding a "things to do in florida" tiktok account and all the suggestions are either "go to the city" or "go to the store". what if i exploded instead

[silversurfersx]

Films of Anger

Sebastian Vettel x Schumacher!Reader

-- Brocedes 2.0 basically. Childhood best friend's fight on track turns into a fight in real life

Light Angst with a bit of fluff sprinkled in xD

"Papa, let me go!" Michael Schumacher's arms around you were the only thing that stopped you from attacking Sebastian right now. You fought against the stone grip around your body, trying to reach for Sebastian, who was held back by Kimi, though he wasn't exactly fighting much against the Fin's grip.

Michael moved his head down so it was leveled with your own. "You have to calm down." His usually soft voice when he spoke to you, was stoic. You were scared to look at him after hearing it so close to you.

"He almost killed me!" You insisted, voice firey as you stared Sebastian down. Your statement was followed by aggressive shouting from both you and Sebastian, catching the attention from all around. Although most of the people couldn't understand the angry german words leaving either of your lips, the tone spoke more than words could.

"If you drove properly, neither of us would have DNF'd." Sebastian shouted. Once again you started to fight your fathers iron grip, trying to fight Sebastian. You heard your father huff, and felt your feet leave the ground as the man behind you lifted you up in the air, to carry you off.

"Papa!" You shouted, wiggling your body. "Let me down!"

"I let you down if you promise not to try and beat up Sebastian and come and talk to me."  He announced carrying you around the paddock. The more distance he brought between you and Sebastain, the more embarrassment started to fill you after noticing the many judging looks people threw at you. Cameras were locked onto the two of you, filming the whole ordeal.

"I promise. I swear, we can talk, just please let me down." You said quickly. Michael nodded and let you down, his hands though stayed put on your shoulders to make sure that you won't run off.

"Do you want me to grap your mother?" Michael asked, looking down at you, but you just shook your head. You didn't want to see the disappointing look in her eyes, knowing that she probably saw the whole scene live on TV in the garage. "No." "

Alright." Michael nodded, one arm thrown around your shoulders, the other gripping the other. Silently he led you through the paddock. You kept your head down, still feeling eyes and cameras set on you, trying to get a look at your face. Your father threw each and everyone a look that silenced them without doubt.

He was well aware of the stupidity of the situation you and Sebastian acted upon, but he didn't think that it was anybody's business to know what truly went on.

When you passed the garages you frowned, thinking that Michael was gonna drag you into a silent corner of the Ferrari or Mercedes garage, but your journey went on towards the motor homes. Pushing into the Ferrari Motor home, you went through the halls up to your drivers room.

When the door closed your shoulders dropped, sluggish you moved to the couch, throwing yourself onto the cushions. You felt your father's presence standing by the door and without a look, you knew what he looked like. Like waves, the questions rolled off of him.

Trying to waste time before you had to speak, you opened your driving suit to let your body cool down from the heated situation.

"What happend?" His voice broke the tension. You thought you were prepared for anger in his voice, but all you heard was sympathy, and that broke you. Tears filled your eyes, while you tries to keep it together you looked up through swimming sight. Your voice was on the verge of breaking as you spoke.

"I messed up, Papa." Michael sighed at the sight of you. He wanted to be angry, but how could he when you looked so broken. He shook his head, moving to sit next to you and pull you in his arms.

"What happened?" He asked again head on top of your own. You had your head pressed against his chest, breathing heavily.

"I think I broke our friendship off." You muttered thinking about what happened just after the race.

__

1996

The first time you met Sebastian was when your were seven years old. He was nine and just won a race. Your father was the one handing out the trophies.

You weren't old enough to drive in the same league as Sebastian yet, but you were always tagging alongside your father when it came to anything racing related. It was your thing. Papa and Y/N's thing.

Racing was what connected you. The hours you spent in your garage building on your kart alongside your father. Nothing brought you more contentment than that.

It was lunch time when you were standing by a concession stand waiting for your food, when little Sebastian approached to order his own.

"What did you get?" He asked noticing your wide eyes looking up at the counter, waiting impatiently on your food. When the little blonde boy spoke, you looked over. An adorable smile graced his face when he noticed your wide eyes.

"Currywurst. For me and my Papa." You had announced to him, giving a toothy grin. Sebastian nodded excitedly.

"It's his favourite." You added whispering as if it was the most important secret. Sebastian laughed leaning over to you to answer in the same hushed voice. "It's my favourite as well."

Giggling filled the air around the two of you.

"I just saw you race." You told him after the giggles stopped. "I think you were really good, and so did my Papa."

The blonde boy blushed lightly looking down at his shoes.

"Thank you."

"Did you race as well, or a sibling?" He asked but you shook your head. "I do race, but I'm not old enough to race with you. I'm here because my Papa was giving out the trophies."

Sebastian halted, his eyes were wide as he stared at you. You titled your head at him, although you were used to these types of reactions from people, it never seized to amaze you what kind of presence your fathers name had on people.

"Your father is Michael Schumacher?" Sebastian stuttered, making you nod. Humming you agreed with a bright smile. Pride swelling in your chest at the thought of your dad and his impression on the young boy in front of you.

"That is so cool." Sebastian exclaimed, jumping on the spot. You giggled at his excitement, listening on to Sebastian's words. "He's my hero. And one day, I'll be just like him."

That was your first of many meetings with the blonde haired boy you would call your best friend for many years. At one point you started karting together, slowly moving up the leagues until you both landed in formula one.

Sebastian had already been in formula one. Having moved from Toro Rosso to RedBull, when you finally joined formula one as well, signing your contract with Ferrari. The announcement didn't just make you beyond happy, but Sebastian and Michael as well. It was what you all had dreamed about, the three of you driving together in formula one. Sebastian and you driving alongside your childhood hero. Driving alongside your best friend and your father.

It was like a fairytale come to life. And even the hate and doubts from the outside world couldn't kill the joy you felt. It was all magical, until the inevitable had to happen.

It was always a fight on track. Even if you were friends beside it, on track everyone was your enemy. And especially when you were young and wanted to prove something, that could mean nothing less of reckless behaviour. Sebastian was a model example of exactly that. It was an one on one between the two of you.

You were leading, Sebastian wanted through. Obviously you didn't want that so you defended. And that was the moment when it all went down. You were coming out of a curve. Sebastain was on your right, overstearing, you still weren't sure if that was on purpose, but almost knocking you off the track.

Trying to keep your car steady, your front wing interlinked with his car. You both noticed too late what was happening, simultaneously trying to pull away from the others, and knocking you both out, while trying to get away from the other.

In your mind it was clearly Sebastian's fault for overstearing. In Sebastian's it was you for hitting his car trying to get back in track.

Michael sighed. He hadn't had time to watch the footage of what exactly happened, yet. All he knew was that the two of them had an accident and DNF'd no one told him what exactly happened. He was just on his way to rewatch the accident and to look for his kid to make sure she was alright when he came across the screaming match.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad." He told you.

You shook your head against him, tightening your arms around the man. "That wasn't the bad part. I tried to talk to him after, but he was mad, Papa. Like proper mad."

__

When you were wheeled back into the garage, you couldn't stop tapping the wheel out of impatience. You were itching to give Sebastian a piece of your mind.

What in the world was he thinking, trying to push you off the track. Was he crazy?

When everything was good you stepped out of your car, took off your helmet and the HANS, before storming off. A few of the Ferrari mechanics tried to stop you, but you moved out of their way, before running off towards the RedBull garage.

It was the last lap, how could Sebastian be so stupid to risk it all at the last lap.

From afar you could see the grimace your friend had on his face as he spoke to his engineer. When he saw you, his brows furrowed and his face formed into a grimace, similar to the one you had.

"Sebastian, are you fucking crazy or what?!" You shouted in german fron afar as you approached the boy. The blonde looked at you angrily. 

"Me? What were you thinking crashing right into me? This isn'tfucking bumper cars."

"Yes, exactly, it isn't." You agreed, stopping beside him right in front of the RedBull garage. "So why in the world did you think knocking me off track was a good idea?"

"Knocking you off track. Fucking hell, there was enough space a fucking hippo could have walked past." He hissed back, eyes filled with an angry fire. "It's your fault, you can't fucking drive. The only reason your even in formula one is because your father is fucking Michael Schumacher."

"Oh, let's be fucking real, Sebastian." You shouted. "You know that that is not the reason, I fought for my place, just like you did. And if you look at the listing you would see that I've got the numbers to prove it, because I am in front of you."

"Oh, piss of will you." He shouted back.

Neither of you noticed it, but your voices hot louder and angrier the more you spoke catching the attention of many bystanders and drivers getting back to the pits after finishing the race.

"If you think you're so much better then get on with it, will you. But I will prove to you that I am much better than you are, little rich kid"

You saw red at his indication. Of course you had the money, you knew your family was rich, but you told the boy often enough that you hated being reduced to simply that. That the thought of being reduced to only being a spoiled little kid was something you despised.

That was the moment you tried to leap at him, though Kimi Räikkönen pulled him back before you could get to him, while you felt your fathers arms around you.

As you told him exactly what happened you felt his arms tighten around you. You knew he was angry with Sebastian about talking to you like that, but he tried to hide it.

"Oh, Schatz." He mused strocking a hand over your hair. "I'm sure it is only half as bad. You both probably just need some time to cool off and the you speak again."

Michael was trying to be reassuring. Always the positive thinker, the joy bringer. He was always trying to see the best in people and he knew that Sebastian wasn't a bad person. He's known him since he was a little boy. Michael hoped that it really was all just because of the heat of the moment. Even if the words spoken were cruel in nature, he hoped that they had not broken your friendship, which had gone through so much already.

"It's gonna be alright, Maus." He muttered into your hair.

[kaleldobrev]

Without Hesitation, Yes.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: After all these years, Dean finally asks you to marry him.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Cursing (3x)

Authors Note: Flashbacks in italics | I love me a good childhood friends to lovers story | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Dean had known you for as long as he could remember; first meeting you through Bobby. He had met you in the late eighties, when he couldn’t be more then 9 or 10 years old. Bobby introduced you as his daughter – not biological, adopted; but he still considered you his blood nonetheless. From the moment he laid his eyes on you, he felt an instant connection to you; the two of you becoming partners in crime very soon after your first meeting. Even when him, Sammy, and his dad were on the road, he still made sure to keep in contact with you, telling you everything and anything. He would tell you how gross the motel room was that they were staying at, the diners that they would stop at on the way to their next case, and even about their current case – sometimes asking you for your input.

Although Bobby was your adoptive father and you would help him do research for cases every now and then, he had never actually wanted the hunting life for you. But not being in the life was never an option for you; it was something that you had always wanted to do. So, when Dean Winchester showed up on your doorstep in October 2005 saying that his dad was missing and needed your help, you dropped everything, packed a bag and left; even though your father didn’t want you to go. He was mad at you for leaving, but understood that it was something that you needed to do; not only because the Winchester’s were like family, but because he could see the way you and Dean looked at each other – something that he tried so hard to prevent.

For as long as Dean could remember, he always felt something for you; but he never fully knew what that feeling was. He was between three different options for a while: he actually had a crush on you, he only had a crush on you because Bobby told him “Don’t even think about it boy” or he only had a crush on you because you were the most consistent woman in his life. One of the first moments he began to try and pinpoint which of the three it was, took place when the two of you were teenagers. Everyone was sleeping and it was just the two of you up. You had somehow convinced him to watch one of your favorite movies Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Even though it wasn’t his thing, he didn’t mind watching it with you because he had thought that Kristy Swanson was hot – but he didn’t dare tell you that. He had remembered how the two of you snuck downstairs to watch it, the two of you making popcorn and grabbing two sodas from the fridge. Dean remembered how engrossed you were when watching it, sometimes quoting from it or even acting out some of the scenes. He could still remember something that you said to him, even though it had been more than 20 years. “When I grow up, I wanna be just like Buffy.” For some reason, you saying that had brought a smile to his face.

There were a few instances in his life when he had planned on telling you how he truly felt about you before the two of you had started dating. But each and every time he had thought about telling you, he would back out, because he didn’t want to ruin one of his longest friendships. Before he went to Hell, he almost broke and told you, but he told himself that there was no way he could do that do you despite the fact that he knew that he was never going to see you again. The last thing he wanted was to tell you that he loved you and then die, and now you had to spend the rest of your life wondering, “What if?” A few years later right before he was going to say yes to Michael, that is when he decided he was going to do it. He had no idea why he had thought that was the moment, but his feelings for you just poured out of him like a dam that had burst. “I’ve loved you for a long time Sweetheart. Ever since we were kids. There are so many times when I’ve wanted to tell you how I felt but…I didn’t want to ruin the friendship that we had. I…I didn’t want to lose you.” For a moment he had thought that you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings but to his surprise you did. “Took you long enough you idjit.” You told him, kissing him soon after that. “After I go into the pit, I want the two of you to have a normal apple pie, white picket fence life together. Do the whole nine. Marriage, kids, PTA meetings. All of it.” Sam had made the both of you promise. The two of you did have some sense of normalcy for the year – the best you could anyway, but kids, marriage, and definitely PTA meetings weren’t on the table at that moment. Someday though maybe.

Dean loved you more than anything or anyone. You were his best friend, his favorite person, the one that he could always count on; and most importantly: the love of his life. He never thought he would ever get the chance to ever call someone that: the love of his life. He had only heard the term once or twice during his life, mainly hearing it from Bobby and his father. Over the years, Dean had thought that he was in love before, but it wasn’t until he had a relationship with you that he truly would know what being in love actually felt like. The other times he had thought he was, he was in love with the idea of the person, in love with the idea of being in their world – a world that he knew he didn’t belong in. With you, it was different; effortless. He didn’t have to hide any aspect of himself in order to please you. You weren’t afraid of him, even when he was afraid of himself at times.

There was a part of him that knew that he didn’t deserve you – you weren’t as broken as he was. Yes, you had lost just as much as he had, but you were somehow stronger than he could ever be; which is one of the things that he admired most about you. When things got tough, he would hid behind a bottle of Jack and a mountain of self-loathing and sarcasm. Meanwhile, you continued to carry your head high and carry on like it was just another Tuesday with the boys or just another case. The only time he had ever seen you completely break is when Bobby died.

A few weeks before his insanely close near-death experience where he almost lost to a rusty rebar fighting vampires, he had went into town with Sam to go and get you an engagement ring. Even though he knew the type of jewelry that you liked, getting you an engagement ring was a completely different story. He went back and forth for hours trying to find you the perfect ring. “Dude, just pick something. She’ll love whatever you get her.” Sam had told him. It was in that moment that Dean’s eyes landed on one that he knew that you would absolutely love. “I’ll take that one.” Dean said, pointing at the ring in the case.

A month has gone by after his close near-death experience, and proposing to you is something that he no longer wanted to put off. He didn’t want to spend another day, another hour, another minute without seeing this ring on your finger. You had told him once a while ago that you didn’t need an engagement ring; that all he had to do was ask you to marry him and then the two of you could go to the nearest courthouse that same day. He truly loved the thought; but he had wanted to do something more for you than that.

Dean held the ring in his hands and couldn’t wait to give it to you. The only problem that he was currently having though, was trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say to you. “Still trying to come up with a speech there Romeo?” Sam said, his voice sounding a bit amused.

Dean eyed him, placing the ring down on the kitchen table. “I have no freaking clue what I’m going to say to her.” He admitted. “I don’t want it to be a chick flick moment, but I don’t want it to sound too generic either.” For the past several days, Dean has been trying to come up with a good proposal speech for you, but each and every time he thought that he had something, it simply just left him. Yesterday, he had even started writing the speech down, but kept crossing out everything that he wrote because he hated the way it looked and sounded.

“Word of advice? As someone who was going to propose…” Sam sighed a little at the memory; still briefly remembering exactly what he was planning on saying to Jessica. “Just be honest. Tell her…tell her all the things you love about her. Why you fell for her in the first place. You know things like that.”

“I said no chick flick moments Sam.” Dean picked up the ring again and started spinning it around on the table, momentarily forgetting that the ring before him was a couple grand and not something he just picked up at the Gas n’ Sip down the road.

“Then don’t make it one.” Sam walked over to Dean and placed his hand on his shoulder. “She’ll love whatever you say to her. I mean, she’s stuck with your dumbass this far. Nothing you can say now will make her run.” Sam gave him a smirk, and Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Bitch.” Dean said.

“Jerk.” Sam replied.

You were doing what you normally did on a Sunday morning – doing some yoga in the Bunker gym. Ever since you and the boys had made the Bunker your home, you had found yourself attracted to yoga; something that you initially didn’t like until recently. Bobby had tried to get you into it – weirdly enough; saying that it would be good for you. You had told him that you would only do it if he did it with you. “I already get pedicures with you, I ain’t doing yoga too.” He said.

As your eyes were closed and you were currently in Lotus position you heard a small knock on the door frame of the gym. You opened your eyes and a huge smile sprawled across your lips. “Hey you.” You said, your voice calm.

“Hey beautiful.” Dean replied, walking into the gym with you. He pointed to the spot in front of you. “Can I join you?” You were slightly surprised. You had tried to get Dean to do yoga for a while, but he always said that it wasn’t really his thing – he left the yoga portion of the workouts to you and Sam.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You scooted back a bit, giving him just a little bit of room so he wasn’t so close to the door.

Dean sat down in front of you, trying his best to get in the same position as you were currently in. Fuck I’m old. He thought to himself as he crossed his legs, feeling just a little bit of pressure in his knees. “You don’t have to sit like that if you don’t want to my love.” You told him. “I’m happy to just have you sitting here with me.” Your comment sincere.

“I uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Dean’s sentence made your heart jump. Not only because of the abruptness of it, but because it sounded like a ‘We need to talk’ conversation. Conversations like these were never your favorite – Hell, you didn’t know anyone who had liked these types of conversations.

“What’s up?” You asked, trying your best not to sound nervous while replying.

“Don’t worry. It’s…it’s nothing bad.” Dean reassured you. “Um…Well, it could be. But…I personally don’t think it is. So, I’m hoping you won’t think it’s bad either.” He sounded like a school boy trying to talk to his crush for the first time; you found it adorable. “Do you, do you remember when we were kids and Bobby would always buy you these ring pops from the store?”

“Yeah…Why?” Of course you had remembered. “One day I want a ring this big!” You told Bobby. “Not if you marry a hunter you won’t.” Bobby laughed.

“I remember, I don’t know if you do but, I remember when we were like…I don’t know, ten? The two of us were playing upstairs in your room and I took the ring pop and put it on your finger and I asked you to marry me. And without any kind of hesitation you said yes.” Dean started smiling from the memory. “Oh Dean! Of course I will! Why wouldn’t I want to marry my best friend?” You said. “You then ran out of your room, leaving my ass behind and ran all the way downstairs where you told Bobby and my dad that I had asked you to marry me. “Look daddy! Uncle John! Dean asked me to marry him! We’re gonna get married!” Bobby had told you years later, “I knew you and that idjit were gonna fall in love. I saw it when you were youngins.”

“Dean –” You began.

“Y/N.” Dean positioned himself so he was now sitting on both of his knees, holding both of your hands in his. “I honestly don’t know what I would ever do without you. Out of everyone that I’ve known in my life, you have been the one consistent thing in it. You have always been by my side even when I know for a fact that I didn’t deserve it. A lot of days, especially in the beginning when we first got together, I didn’t think I deserved you. I thought that you deserved much more than someone like me. Someone that could provide you with the life that you deserve; a safe and quiet one, not one where you’re constantly running toward the things that want to kill you.” He let out a small chuckle. “But, I’ve realized over the years that…Sweetheart, we may not have the most conventional life but, we have each other, and that’s really all that matters.” He released one of your hands for a moment as he reached for something in his pocket. “Close your eyes for me.” Without hesitation you closed them. The second you did, you felt something being placed in your hands. “Okay. Open.” When you opened your eyes there was a red and black ring lying in your hand.

“Dean…” You looked down at the ring and then looked up at Dean, unsure of what to say. For the first time in your life you were utterly speechless. You got up, getting in the same position as Dean, holding the ring in your fingers. Placing your hands on Dean’s shoulder’s, you leaned in and kissed him. You felt his hands and arms pull you in close to him as he deepened the kiss between the two of you.

“Will you marry me Sweetheart?” He asked, once the kiss was broken.

Without hesitation, like you had done all those years ago you said, “Yes.”

[jungkookstatts]

When She Loved Me

[Summary]: How does one live when life is bound to end? 

[Theme]: Terminally Ill Reader, Non Idol AU, CEO Jungkook AU, Engaged AU, Married AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes and innuendoes, a truly heart wrenching piece. Please read with caution and with full intent to break your own heart. 

[Word Count]: 11,265

[A/N]: I truly broke my soul with this one. If you really want to cry, listen to my muse for this piece: “When She Loved Me” by Sarah McClain (yes, the one from Toy Story) or "Stuff We Did" by Michael Gaicchino (from UP)

[Materialist]

It’s spring — your favorite time of year. The air is brisk, but the sun warms his skin despite the chill in the air.

He watches the cherry blossoms fall dramatically as the wind pushes through the branches of the trees. They flow through his hair, catching on his clothes and his skin. 

He thinks about you as they whirl around the city, wondering if you’re able to see the blossoms through your window.

Jungkook doesn’t have to check into the hospital anymore. He’s become a regular there. In fact, he’s come so often, he knows the names of all the nurses on your floor. Jungkook is a friendly guy, and he’s come to know each nurse quite well.

Your personal nurse, Nurse Sandy, greets him as he makes an appearance on the 4th floor. Jungkook gently wraps his hand around the knob to your room, just about to push it open until she speaks.

“You won’t find her in there, love,” she smiles. She finishes cleaning up an area on a movable cart before she officially turns his way. “She’s up on the roof,” she points to the door at the end of the hallway.

“Ah,” Jungkook shyly bows in thanks. His hand comes up to rub the hairs at the back of his neck. There’s a sense of slight slight awkwardness in the air from his mistake. 

“She’s been up there for a while,” she explains.

Jungkook simply nods before telling her that he’s going to join you. She lets him go, watching the grown man make his way towards you.

He catches you leaning against the metal bars encasing the rooftop. Your arms are folded against the railing, and your leg is crossed over the other as you stare out into the openness of the city. He can imagine your face — eyes closed and a content smile on your lips — as the breeze takes over your body.

You’re beautiful, even standing with your back faced to him; even with a cart of fluids attached to one side of your body, and an oxygen tank placed on the other. Nothing can take away from you.

“You can say something, you know,” you break the silence.

Jungkook feels his heart nearly leap out of his body. He didn’t know how long he had been standing there. Or how long you knew he was standing there. Embarrassment floods his cheeks as he clears his throat.

“S-Sorry,” he laughs. Jungkook makes his way over to you, leaning his arms against the metal just as you are.

“The weather is perfect, Kook,” you sigh in content. When he looks to you, his imagination is confirmed reality: your eyes are closed and your lips are lips pulled up in the most delicate way. A clear tube stretches across your cheeks, but it doesn’t take away from your beauty. You’re you, and he finds himself staring in admiration as the cherry blossoms flow around your delicate frame. It’s like they’re pulling you into the spring.

“Your cheeks are cold,” he observes. The redness of your nose and the red skin at the corners of your eye do little to hide from how the weather effects you body.

“Are they?” He watches you open your eyes, gently touching your cheeks with your fingertips. “Oh—I guess they are. I hadn’t noticed,” you smile. “Winter is still in the air, but I couldn’t just sit in that room and watch the blossoms fall from the window.”

“I got a scarf if you want,” he suggests.

You attempt to refuse, but he’s already pulling it out of his bag and gently wrapping it around your neck and shoulders. He’s careful with the cords, not wanting to damage or ruin anything as he wraps you in his clothes.

Once he has situated the scarf a few more times, he’s looking at you, a content smile on his face. He loves moments when you let him do this—when you let him engulf you with his warmth. It makes him feel special.

You’re leaning against his chest in the next few moments, wrapping your arms around his waist and sighing against his chest. You missed him. Even though you he visits you everyday, you miss him in every moment he is gone.

Jungkook rubs your back, one of his hands pressing your head into his chest as he places a kiss on top of your scalp.

“How long have you been out here?” He asks you.

“Since this morning.” His chest rises from your words. You stop him with your own, knowing what he was about to reprimand you for. Don’t worry, I ate,” you chuckle, poking his chest. You knew that was going to be his next question. “Nurse Sandy has been out here with me for most of the day, waiting for you to come and give her a break.”

Jungkook chuckles, holding you closer against him when a strong breeze blows against the two of you. He protects you from it, turning you gently so his back shields your body from the wind.

“I hate being in there,” you mumble. He almost doesn’t here it, but if it wasn’t for the small break in the wind he probably wouldn’t have. “I wish I could sleep next to you again.”

“I know,” he kisses your head again. “You’ll get out of here soon. I know it.”

You don’t say anything. Instead, you rest your chin on his chest, staring up at him with curious eyes.

“What?” He laughs, tucking your hair behind your ear. It’s become thin, the nutrients it had just a couple years ago has been completely sucked out. But Jungkook doesn’t mind. As long as you don’t mind, he’s alright. Everything about you is beautiful. You could be bald or patching or have the worst allergic reaction on your skin from some of the medications you take, but he wouldn’t care. Behind all that is you, and he loves your soul with all of his.

“Nothing,” you give a small smile. It seems forced, but Jungkook pays no mind. He knows not to expect too much—your mind has been haywire lately, thinking and thinking and thinking. He knows you’re stressed and exhausted.

It’s been two years since you got sick. He’s been there the entire way, watching you change and get angry at the world and try your best to just suck it up and wait to get better. But he knows how hard you’re trying to be positive. He knows it’s the hardest thing to harbor when you’ve been waiting so long for just some good news.

But he also knows you need a rock to lean on; hell, he’d turn into one physically if that’s really what you needed. He’s been there for you as a shoulder, as a weight to keep you grounded. Though you might have a hard time seeing any positive in the world, he would always see something positive in you.

“You wanna watch that new anime?” Jungkook breaks the silence. “The one on Netflix you saw the last time we were browsing through shows?”

“Yes!” You exclaim. “I’m so glad you brought that up because it’s taco night in the cafeteria and I was so excited to bring back an old tradition.”

You’re referring to your taco and Netflix nights a while back before all this happened. It used to be your thing to do with him. Your “date night”, one could say. It’s been hard to get permission to bring in outside food from the hospital, though. So you were nearly jumping out of your bones, your heart monitor going crazy, when Nurse Sandy told you about taco night.

“They’re probably not going to be ‘Maria’s Flaming Taco’s’ good, because it’s crappy hospital food, but I don’t even care,” you explain. “I just want to be with you.”

Jungkook smiles at your reaction, the butterflies in his tummy doing nothing to hide the way your happiness fuels his affection for you. 

“It’s a date, then,”  he nudges his nose against yours. He plants a small kiss on your lips afterwards, allowing himself to feel you on his skin.

A part of his head tells him to savor it, because he never knows when the last time might be that he gets to kiss you so. But the largest part of him, the part that’s been keeping him together during all of this, tells him that moments like this will come again. That hope is in the air as spring brings about new life.

You’re going to be alright. Everything is going to be alright.

__________________

“How’s about this one?” Jungkook points to the shiny diamond below the clear casing. There’s a a collection of earrings, necklaces, and bracelets surrounding the specific jewel he points out.

“Hmm,” you hum, tucking your hair behind your ear as you stare down at the diamond. It’s huge — extremely dramatic in size and way too detailed. “I don’t think it represents us that well,” you candor.

“You’re right,” Jungkook sighs. He runs his hands though his hair in slight frustration.“I feel like we’ve been looking at these for forever.”

“I told you: I’m fine without an engagement ring, baby,” you coo. Your arms come to wrap around his own, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I know,” he groans. “But I wanted to do it properly. With a ring. On one knee. All that traditional sappy stuff.”

“Hey, I liked how you proposed,” you pout. “It was romantic.”

“We were in the shower, babe. I was like…2 seconds away from shoving my dick in you,” you fiancé mumbles the last part.

You laugh at that, softly clutching his arm before a certain ring catches your eye.

“Kook,” you gasp, pointing your finger at the gem. “Look at that one.”

Before he has time to respond, you’re already pulling him toward the ring. You point at it through the glass, gasping in awe at its beauty.

The ring represents your relationship with Jungkook perfectly. A small, plain band with a giant emerald-cut diamond paced at the center. It doesn’t have any of that extra stuff to it. Just a classic diamond on a classic band: a timeless ring that incorporates a little bit of you and a little bit of him.

“Are you looking to buy?” The clerk on the other side of the case asks.

Jungkook looks down to you, asking you with his eyes if you’re sure this is the one. You simply nod your head, a smile forming on your lips.

“Can we try it on?” He asks the clerk.

“Of course!”

The man unlocks the case, gently pulling the ring out onto the table.

“It’s a 4.20 carat,” he starts, pulling the diamond from the velvet floor it was ground to. “It comes in a range of 2 carat to 5 carat in case this one is a little high, or a little low for your intentions. Feel free to try it on and see what you think.”

Jungkook gently handles the diamond, putting his other hand out asking for your own. You place your fingertips on his, and your fiancé slides the diamond on your ring finger slowly.

He observes the ring on your hand. It’s a perfect look. Everything he was looking for and everything you wanted — a perfect mixture of the two of you in one object.

Jungkook nods, a small chuckle falling out of his lips when you shimmy the diamond around, catching the light as the diamond reflects it.

“Do I look like your fiancé?” You ask, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Fuck, yeah you do,” he laughs. “It’s perfect, Y/n.” Jungkook let’s go of your hand, instead choosing to hold your ring finger, examining it before he turns to the clerk. “We’ll take it.”

“Congratulations!” He exclaims. “Would you like this size? We can talk prices over here. Are you paying, sir?”

“We both—” you start. But Jungkook is quick to interrupt.

“I am, yes,” he says.

“Kook,” you scold him in a whisper. This ring is set at 65,000 dollars. There’s no way you’re letting him take care of this on his own.

“It’s alright,” he smiles down at you. “This was how it was supposed to go anyways. I buy the ring, you have no idea, then I propose, then you’re like: ‘Omg Kook! I can’t believe you chose such a beautiful amazing ring! You’re my hero!’,” he changes his voice to what you’d guess is a mocking of yours.

“Shut up,” you laugh at his interpretation.

“Seriously babe, I got it,” he kisses your forehead. “You’re marrying the CEO of the biggest software company in Korea. I got the extra cash.”

“Prick,” you pinch him. “Go talk sales. I’m gonna look around.”

Jungkook nods, letting you detach yourself from him as he follows the clerk behind the counter and into one of the rooms.

A very long a boring conversation goes on with the clerk for a while. Pamphlets and ordering arrangements, ring cases and polishes are given to Jungkook to choose from. He’s confident enough to make final decisions on it all. You already said yes, so he’s content in knowing that you’d definitely say yes when he does it all over again.

He’s inserted his blackcard into the machine when he hears sudden gasps and a yell for help from one of the employees outside of the room. 

“Oh no. A robbery?” The clerk looks out the door. He shakes his head in disappointment until someone shouts ‘call an ambulance’. 

Both the men are out of their seats and making their way to the main room in haste, eager to see what could be going wrong.

Jungkook looks for your face, and a panic settles in his stomach when he can’t find you. Quickly, he paces to the crowd, pushing through the people until he’s met face to face with yours on the ground, unconscious.

There’s blood leaking from your nostrils and one of your ears, the liquid dashing across your face as it continues to leak out of your body.

This can’t be happening. No way. Nooo way. You were just here, clutching onto his arm and laughing with him. What wen’t wrong?

“Get out!” He nearly screams at the people to move. The crowd moves, recognizing him as the man that was just with you a few minutes ago. Jungkook crouches next to you, placing a hand under your neck and another on your pulse.

“Y-Y/n, baby, can you hear me?” He asks.

Luckily, your heartbeat is there, but it’s very weak. Confusion and fearful adrenaline pumps through his veins when you don’t answer, just the dead weight of your head lulling while he gently holds it in his hand.

Before he can do anything else, there’s a paramedic crouching on the other side of you.

“Don’t worry,” she assures him. “We got her.”

There’s little time for him to respond, because two other paramedics push him out of the way, lifting your body as if it had no weight onto a movable bed. He follows after you and panics by your side until you’ve finally awoken in room 456 of the nearest hospital.

__________________

“Jungkook,” you whisper to him. It’s dark in your room. The sun has set and the lights were turned off long ago when Nurse Sandy brought in the projector for you two to use. You want to say your tacos were finished nearly two hours ago.

Now, your boyfriend rests, cuddled to your side on your small hospital bed, arms wrapped around you and head placed on your chest.

You two have been at it, watching “Way of the House Husband” since this afternoon. You’re almost certain he’s fallen asleep a few times, this being one of them.

“Love,” you gently shake him.

Jungkook stirs, his eyebrows crinkling and his hand clutching yours a little tighter.

“You have to wake up, Kook,” you kiss his head. “You’re not supposed to be here past 12.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbles against your skin. “I want to sleep next to you.”

“I want that, too,” you sigh. “But you know we can’t. I have treatment at 5am.”

At that, Jungkook sits up sleepily, crossing his legs on the spot he was laying. “They’re too harsh on you,” he says.

“What would you know, Dr. Jeon?” you laugh, poking his chest.

“5am is too early for chemicals and medicine and radiation and—”

“It’s okay,” you stop him. “I asked for that time slot, anyways. Get’s it done and over with so I can leave the rest of the day to spend with you.”

Jungkook smiles at that, but there’s a certain pang in his heart he doesn’t understand why he feels. His eye catches sight of your engagement ring on your finger, gulping at the memory as he holds it in his hand.

“Y/n,” he whispers your name, moving his thumb over your ring finger.

“Hm,” you hum.

“Do you think,” he starts. But the words are hard to get out. He doesn’t like flaunting his insecurities like this to you, especially about this matter. He should be strong, should be unwavering. But he can’t help it. “Do you think we’ll be able to live together again? To go back to it all. Like how it was before.”

You gulp at his words. You were worried about this question. Mainly because you don’t know the answer yourself. It’s something that pushes you forward everyday, something that gets you though the pain. Going back to your old life, marrying your best friend, starting a family and living life together. It’s everything you need to imagine to push yourself harder. To get better.

But recently, you haven’t been showing any progress. Your sickness is getting worse, and it’s something you refuse to tell Jungkook. Something that you’re hiding from him in hopes that if you keep it low, it will eventually smoothen out on its own. You’re just impatiently waiting for the day it does.

“I don’t know,” you candor. “But it’s all I think about. Memories of us before all this play in my mind constantly. I imagine our future all the time,” you squeeze his hand. “The both of us healthy and back to life.”

“I imagine it, too,” he sends a soft laugh. “I miss you, Y/n.”

There’s a lump in your throat at his confession.

It’s hard to live like this. So unbelievably hard.

Yes, you’re sick. And yes, it’s painful to go through the treatment process. But all of that is second to the pain your feel when you realize what you’ve done to him and all you s put him through.

You’re thankful your fiancé has made it nearly everyday to come to you while you stay cooped up in here. But you can’t help but feel selfish about it all. There have been times when you almost called off your relationship, the pain too much to imagine if he were to watch you pass or to watch you deteriorate until you do. How you know it would destroy him, how you know it already is.

It’s painful to see him clutch onto hope, to look at you as if it’s the last time he ever will. Though he thinks you cannot see it, you can. That look he gives you every once in a while, taking in your face, memorizing it when he thinks you’re not looking. It’s so hard to watch him go through all of this. He shouldn’t have to.

But Jungkook is relentless. He’s scared out of his wits about the possibilities of the future. But he knows you are, too. And he can’t leave you alone in your fear. He can’t abandon his love just because some pesky illness decided to create a little bump in the road.

“We should get married,” you confess.

“We are getting married,” Jungkook says.

“No, now. We should get married now, Jungkook,” you squeeze his hand again. This time, Jungkook looks at you differently. The soft glow of the moonlight shows your features to him, caressing your face with the light.

“I thought you wanted to wait until you got better,” he recalls.

“I don’t want to wait anymore, Kook. It’s been two years,” you gulp. “I want you as my husband.”

There’s a quiver in your lip when you utter the last sentence. The tears flood your eyes, and Jungkook is quick to pull you into his embrace.

“I want to be your wife, Jungkook,” you cry into his chest. “Before it’s too late.”

“No,” he sternly holds your shoulder. “Don’t say that, Y/n.”

“I’m scared,” you confess in a mutter.

Jungkook feels a soft drop from his own eye fall down his cheek. Fuck, if he wasn’t just as scared as you are. He’s terrified. But to hear you say it, he wants to protect you. He’d gladly take more fear, more terror and fright, if it meant you felt safe. If it meant you felt like everything was going to be okay.

“I know, baby,” he kisses your scalp. “But I’ve got you.”

__________________

“Ms. Y/l/n,” the doctor walks in.

Your mother is by your side, sitting on the chair. Jungkook is on the other, clutching your hand in his own at the sound of the doctor’s voice.

The doctor looks over at your mom, and then to Jungkook.

“Excuse me,” he starts, gently smiling at your fiancé. “This conversation has to be confined to family members. Please understand. It’s just conduct of the hospital.”

You gulp, looking up at Jungkook with a fear in your eyes. He gently smiles at you, though. Telling you it’s going to be okay, even without him there.

“I’ll be right out side,” he kisses your head. “Not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” you let out a shaky breath. Jungkook lets go of your hand, making his way out of the room. Your hand feels cold now that he’s gone, and you find yourself staring at the way he anxiously runs his hands through his hair when he exists the room.

He stands awkwardly as he waits for the conversation to be over. It’s been almost an hour of him pacing and sitting, and looking on his phone as thoughts consume his mind.

Everything happened so fast and so unexpectedly. What was just a happy day, the day you choose what form his promise would represent in a ring, turned unto a night full of fear. Not in a million years did he think the next few hours would be spent pacing, just as he is now, outside of a hospital room.

The door to your room opens, and the doctor steps out. The man gives Jungkook a tense smile before motioning his hand toward the room, telling him it’s okay to enter. Jungkook takes a deep breath, sitting up from his spot and appearing in the doorway.

He watches you from the door. Your mother has you in her embrace, her eyes closed as she holds you tight. He’s unable to make out her expression.

You’re muttering something to her, and she opens her eyes to meet with his. Your mom send a small smile his way until she’s back on you, telling you that he’s waiting for you.

You clear your throat, wiping at your face before you take a deep breath. You tell your mom it’s okay to let him in, and your mother nods at Jungkook, telling him he’s welcome.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you, gently sitting at the end of the bed.

Your eyes are red at the corners, and you lips are puffy in the way they always are when you cry. He feels a pang in his heart at your face. He’s never seen you in a state like this. It tempts him to let his own emotions flow, but this is not his time. You’re hurt, and he needs to be there for you.

“Yeah,” you nod, a small chuckle escaping your lips. “I’m just gonna have to stay here for a bit.”

Jungkook gulps at your words, trying to shoot the fear down.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“I’m just a little sick, is all,” you grab his hand, playing with his fingers. “I’ll be alright.”

“H-how sick?” he dares to ask. It’s a small question, but one that felt so heavy to say aloud.

“Sick enough to say that this room might be my home for a little while.”

__________________

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Nurse Sandy shakes her head. “But you have been cleared.”

“Really?!” you exclaim, nearly hopping out of your hospital bed. The IV in your arm prevents you from leaping into the woman’s arms, and you’re stuck to squealing on your mattress.

“Just for two months,” she says. “And you still have to carry your oxygen tank and do your treatments in the morning and make sure that you’re coming in for check-ups.”

“I will! I promise I will—oh my god,” you gasp. Your hands come to cover your mouth as you think about what these next two months hold for you. “How am I going to tell Jungkook?”

“Maybe you can start by meeting him at home?” Nurse Sandy suggests. “Make it a little surprise.”

“That’s perfect!” you say, taking the IV out of your arm and tearing the sheets off your body. “Oh god, I’m so excited. Do you have a change of clothes?”

“Of course,” she laughs.

Nurse Sandy turns away, probably going to where the spare clothes are. Meanwhile, you’re left alone in your room, a racing heart and a mind imagining just how you’re going to surprise your fiancé. You know you’re still not doing well, but you’ve asked the doctor, surgeons, and nurses if you could just have a month or two to get married. Just a month or two to be outside of here while you tie the knot with your best friend. Honestly, you didn’t think you’d get any approval at all. You’ve already started planning a hospital wedding. But today’s news shocked you. You’re beyond ecstatic. You don’t even know where to begin.

“Put these on and meet me downstairs. We’ve got a schedule for you and an entire two months of supplies for you to take home. Plus an on-call personal nurse you can call at any time you need one at home,” Nurse Sandy says. She hands you a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that feel way too thin and large to keep any warmth in. But you’re happy to take them and get out of this stupid hospital gown for once.

“Okay,” you beam.

Nurse Sandy makes her way out, but you stop her before she has the chance to close the door.

“Nurse Sandy?” you call.

“Yes?” she stops, looking back at you from the doorway.

“Thank you,”

She gives you a smile, happy to see you cheer up.

“Of course,” she nods. “Next time I’ll see you, you’ll be Mrs. Jeon.”

You blush at the title.

“Hell yeah, I will.”

__________________

You feel the nerves shoot through your system when the hospital’s driver arrives at your apartment complex. It’s been two years since you’ve ventured in here. You wonder how much your home has changed. You wonder how Jungkook has been living in it all by himself.

It’s during the daytime, so Jungkook has probably left for work already. You feel excitement thinking about him again. You can’t wait to see his reaction.

The driver stops in front of the entrance, telling you that you’ve reached your destination. He comes around, pulling the door open for you and helping you pull out your oxygen tank.

“I’ll get the stuff in the back,” he says. You nod to him, your thumb harshly smoothing over the key fob Jungkook gave you about five years ago to his apartment.

With shaky hands, you press it to the inner door to the complex, and you sigh in relief when a positive beeping noise and the sound of doors unlocking rings in your ears. You press the handicapped button to the door for the driver, who carries a few extra oxygen tanks and bags of prescription medicines and other things you may need during your much needed time with your fiancé.

The driver thanks you, and you reply back to him before showing him the way to the elevator.

It’s a long ride up. 38 floors of apartments make the wait in the elevator all the more anticipating. You can’t wait to smell home again.

“It’s this one,” you say, nodding to room 3860 at the end of the hallway. Jungkook has a corner apartment, which mean’s it’s the biggest on the floor. You press the key fob to the lock, and it flashes a green light at you, telling you it’s been accepted.

The smell of home engulfs you. It’s just as you left it — everything organized and clean, the furniture and floors clear of clutter. There’s personal items on a few of the standing drawers, the ones you and Jungkook picked out together on vacations. You almost cry at the nostalgia. It’s hard to come here when it used to be so second nature to you.

You place your keys on your designated spot on the key holder on the wall. It’s right next to your fiancé’s name, and you smile thinking about him seeing your keys on your holder once again.

“You can just set them in this closet,” you point to the one near the door. It’s your’s and Jungkook’s coat closet. But given it’s late spring, you guess it hasn’t been put to much use lately.

The man leaves and makes his way out, telling you to be careful. You nod and tell him to thank Nurse Sandy one more time, to which he laughs and agrees.

The rest of the evening is spent exploring your home. It’s like you’re walking into one of your friend’s parents bedrooms when you were young. It feels like it’s wrong, feels weird because you’ve never explored that part of your friend’s home before. But there’s a familiarity to it anyways.

You sit on his side of the bed in your shared bedroom. You laugh because it appears as if he hasn’t touched your side at all. It’s made and the pillows are organized perfectly. The sheets are tucked in and the bedding is smoothed out as he’s been keeping it neat since the day you last ventured in here.

His side of the bed is unmade. The sheets are pulled from when he got up this morning, and the decorative pillows for his side are scattered on the floor.  

You take it all in, breathing in the smell of him that overpowers your bedroom. You miss this—waking up to hold him and going to sleep cuddled together. You wonder how he’s been going to sleep these days.

Your body starts to feel tired when you close your eyes, and Jungkook’s scent does nothing to help your weak body from falling into the depths of sleep. The bed has always been so comfortable, especially Jungkook’s side. It’s warm and curves into your body as you lay against the sheets. The smell of him wafting into your nostrils as you lay your head on his pillow.

It wasn’t you intention to fall asleep. No, you wanted to bake something sweet for him, put up some decorations or do something to make it special. But Nurse Sandy warned you about the effects of not being on IV constantly. Your body isn’t getting everything it needs to stay awake for long periods of time. But you were given a long list of to-do’s in order to keep your energy up. For right now, though, you forgo the list until you’re able to look it over and figure it all out with your fiancé.

__________________

Jungkook’s exhausted. He’s beat and he totally would have gone straight to you after work had he not been feeling completely gross. The plan is still to see you. But right now, he needs a shower.

His body is aching when he walks down the hallway to the 38th floor. All day he spent sitting in his desk, listening to sales pitches and hiring a few more people who he honestly could care less about. Needless to say, he needs a hot shower, a cup of coffee, and a dose of you in order to make his day feel right.

He takes a deep breath when he presses the key fob against the door. The briefcase in his hand swings when he pushes it open, immediately setting it down in the dip in the doorway. He almost closes his eyes when he enters his apartment, the darkness of the home from the set sun doing nothing to hide his need for sleep. But his heart leaps out of his chest when he sees a pair of familiar grey sneakers tucked in the corner of the entryway. His eyebrows knot together at the sight, his heart beating rapidly in his chest when he looks up to the key holder on the wall. There they are — your keys, placed simply on the hook with your name on it.

“Y/n?” he whispers. There’s a panic in his heart when he turns on the light. Why were you here? Is everything okay?

“Y/n?” he shouts. But there’s no answer.

Jungkook quickly rips off his jacket, his shoes messily thrown in the entry way as he runs into the kitchen. He shouts your name again, but there’s no answer.

Jungkook’s chest heaves, the silence and the lack of you anywhere makes his brain think of the worst possible outcome. Did you come here against the will of the doctor? Did you give up? Did you come here to greet him and it all go wrong? Did you collapse? Are you okay?

Jungkook pants heavily as he rips open the door to his bedroom. The lights are off and the lack of sunlight coming through his window makes things hard to make out. However, he quickly turns on the light, his lungs relaxing immediately when he sees your body softly tucked into his sheets.

“Y/n, baby,” he calls out your name softly. Jungkook kneels by his side of the bed, gently moving your tank in the process. He shakes you gently, and you stir at the feeling of his touch.

“Kook?” you groggily moan. Your eyes open in sight of him, a wave of disappointment flooding through you. “Fuck—I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep.”

“Are you okay? What’s going on? Why are you here?” he helps you sit up, his own body sitting next to your legs on the mattress.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you groan, your head falling into your palms.

“What surprise?” he tucks a chunk of your hair behind your ear. Your skin is hot, and he wonders if he should get the thermometer or take you right back to the hospital.

“Nurse Sandy let me go,” you explain.

“What?!” he gasps. “Why would she do that?”

“No,” you chuckle at his misunderstanding. “She let me go for two months. To be with you. To get married.”

“O-Oh,” he gulps. He can’t help the pulse in his heart that leaps at your words.

Fuck, is this a dream? Never in a million years did he think he’d get the chance to have you during your treatment. Hell, they’ve kept you under extremely strict rules for the past two years.

“I wanted to make it a surprise,” you whine. “But I came home and I smelled you and I just—I passed out. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook shakes his head, smiling at you while you groan in your mistake. He honestly is still processing it all. He wants to ask you to pinch him, to make sure this is actually happening before he wakes up from his dream and becomes upset.

“It’s okay, my love,” he kisses your forehead. “I’m honestly a little struck right now. Is this really happening?”

You nod your head, a content smile showing on your face as you speak. “I was just as shocked as you are. I mean, I’ve been asking for just a week or two to be out of there so that we can get married. But they’ve just given me the same answer every time, telling me that they’ll ‘see’ or that they’re not sure that it’s gonna be a possibility,” you hold his hand. “But when Nurse Sandy told me two whole months was approved…I knew I had to make it a surprise. It kinda backfired on me, though. Nurse Sandy told me I was going to be much more fatigued off IV, but I kinda took her words for granted. I was just so excited.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles, adjusting the clear tube across your cheeks. “We’ll take it slow.”

Jungkook holds your cheek, and you lean against at the feeling of his touch on your skin. 

You feel a little emotional. None of this was supposed to happen. Your sickness, the wait to get married, the pause in life. Everything was supposed to be normal, but now you find it all to be complicated and oh-so painful. You shouldn’t have to live like this. He shouldn’t have to live like this.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he whispers. Jungkook’s thumb wipes at the tear that dares to fall from your eye. You hold his hand to your cheek, keeping his touch against you.

“We were so regular,” you laugh. “Just two normal people,” a few more tears stream from your eyes, and Jungkook pulls you into his chest, shielding you from the pain. “But now this happened. And you have to go to bed alone every night. You have to come home to emptiness. Have to make trips just to see me. To deal with all my bad days; days when I can barely talk to you because it hurts.”

“Stop it, Y/n,” he whispers into your hair. “I’d do it for the rest of my life if it means I still get to have you.”

“It shouldn’t have to be this way,” you sob. Jungkook rocks you in his hold, his arms tightening around your gentle body as you cry.

“But it is,” he says. “This is life. It’s just a bump in the road. A big bump, but thank god I’ve got a bunch of different cars to test out which one makes it over first.”

You laugh at his comment. You want to stab his ego a little, but his comment warms you to the extent to where you don’t think you have it in you to do so. 

“I’m gonna take care of you, Y/n,” he simmers. “In sickness and in health, no?”

“Till death do us part.”

__________________

“It’s terminal,” the doctor says.

He watches your mom shake her head, her pearl earrings whipping against her cheeks at his words.

“It can’t be,” she says. “She’s never had something like this in her life! We don’t even have a genetic history—”

“It happens to the best of us, unfortunately,” he interrupts her. You’re sure he hears things like this from mother’s all the time. But you don’t care. It’s true. You’ve been living your life healthy for as long as you remembered. You exercise, eat healthy foods, train your brain…you even have an air purifier in every room of your home. How can this happen?

“Your sickness is in it’s second stage. It’s a 50/50 chance it will get worse or better within the next few months. But regardless, I will just lay the facts out to you. The illness will more than likely be the cause of your death. However, given that it is in its second stage, we are able to slow it down and give you a few extra years,” the doctor explains. “We can put you on the transplant list, but unfortunately, since you are in the second stage, it puts you down as less of a priority compared to those who have a worse illness or who need it immediately.”

Your mother scoffs, her eyes wallowing with tears at the doctors information.

Meanwhile, all you can think about is Jungkook. How the hell are you going to tell him? Would it even be fair to tell him? You don’t want him to be any more worried than he already is. Not to mention how it would absolutely kill you if he were to look at you everyday not knowing if it would be the last.

The doctor’s words are drowned out as you think of how you want to go about this. There’s scenarios playing out in your head. The thought of dying does not even matter to you. All you can think about is how you’re going to protect your love from reality.

“Can we not tell anyone?” you ask your mother quietly.

“What?!” she exclaims. “Y/n, we need to raise awareness or something,” she holds your hand. “Don’t you want to at least tell Jungkook?”

“No,” you say sternly. “I can’t do that to him. I love him too much to destroy him like that.”

“Well,” your mom lets out a shaky breath. A part of you feels bad that you couldn’t shield her from it, either. But someone has to know. And you’re strict on only allowing her to. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll play along.”

A small tear falls from your eye, and your mother wipes them off your cheeks. She coos you, telling you that it’s okay. But her words mean nothing. How is this okay when you will be gone quicker than you thought you would be? When your time with Jungkook has been given a limit?

“Just don’t tell him, alright?” you cry. “Don’t destroy him like this.”

The doctor clears his throat, telling him he is going to leave the room. He asks you if it’s okay to let your fiancé in, and you nod, quickly wiping your tears.

Jungkook makes his way in the door way, his chest tightening at the sight of your mom holding you tight.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you, gently sitting at the end of the bed.

Your eyes are red at the corners, and you lips are puffy in the way they always are when you cry. He feels a pang in his heart at your face. He’s never seen you in a state like this. It tempts him to let his own emotions flow, but this is not his time. You’re hurt, and he needs to be there for you.

“Yeah,” you nod, a small chuckle escaping your lips.

__________________

Your wedding was beautiful.

It was everything you could want and more. Family and friends, the venue you wanted, the color scheme perfect for the summertime. It wasn’t too hot, either. Perfect weather for early August.

Originally, neither of you wanted a summer wedding. But you had to make do with the time you had, and it turned out to be everything you weren’t expecting, in all the right ways.

You even got to walk down the aisle without your tank. Just your face and you in your dress, walking to your man with the biggest smile. Yes, it was a tough walk. But the minute Jungkook took your hand, you felt strength.

You married Jungkook. It was the most rewarding feeling to have him as yours. To slip on his ring and him slip on yours. It felt right. You felt at peace. For the first time in two years, you didn’t think about your diagnosis. Your mind and heart was full of you and him, and that is all.

Your first dance with him as his wife was filled with emotion. Yes, you had to take it slow—the effects of your sickness made it hard to do anything exuberant. But Jungkook let you rest your head on his shoulder. He held your hand and your waist, guiding you through it all as your husband. He held you as the song played in your ears, memories of graduating college, your first date, the first word you spoke to him, the day he asked you to move in with him, the day he proposed. Everything came to you, and you held him tightly as he danced with you in the memories.

The ride home was filled with tiredness. Truthfully, all you had planned was to eat tacos and watch Netflix. But as you sat next to your husband on the ride home, you realized you wanted to do more. Memories of when you two used to be spicy, when you used to have sex nearly everyday, come back to you. How much that has changed. The two of you have become nearly entirely different people. But you want to try tonight. You want to feel him again, no matter the strain. No matter what might happen. You want to hold your husband.

“I feel wrong doing this,” Jungkook rambles below you. You’re sitting on his lap, both of you in pajamas as some anime show plays in the background. “You sure you can breathe okay? Is this too much?”

“Jungkook,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “We’ve only been kissing for two minutes.”

“I know, but I—”

“If you don’t feel right, then we don’t have to,” you cut him off.

“No—I. That’s not what I meant,” he re-quips. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not, Kook,” you stop. A big part of you feels embarrassed. Has this really become an entirely new experience? You’re frustrated and you feel a blush on your cheeks for even trying. Maybe he doesn’t want this. “Look, if you don’t want to have sex with me, that’s fine. But tell me now, because I’m not about to put my all into it if you’re just going to be worried the whole time.”

“Y/n,” he groans. Your husband runs his hand through his hair. Fuck, if he didn’t want to have sex with you. It’s be two years since he felt you like that. He misses holding you, feeling you around him as he makes love to you. But hell, he’s worried out of his wits. You can’t breathe like you used to. Not to mention the fragility of your body. What if he hurts you? He can’t imagine how bad he’d feel.

You let out a disappointed sigh. His expression telling you that he’s still considering it.

You begin to hop off his lap when his hands grip your hips, forcing you to stay.

“Y-You,” he starts, his thumbs rubbing circles on the skin of your hips. “You have to tell me if it’s too much. I’m being serious, Y/n. I’m worried and nothing is going to change that. But I want you...I miss you so much.”

You nod your head, a breath of relief flooding your lungs when he comes to kiss you again.

He’s gentle with his kisses, although much more sure than what it was just a few minutes ago. He holds your waist while his body gently falls forward. Your back hits the softness of the mattress, Jungkook’s body falling between your legs. You open them, inviting him in. 

He presses soft kisses on your cheek, trailing them down to your neck where he buries his head in the crevice of your skin. Hot hands push up your body. They take your shirt with it, his fingertips gently cascading over the swell of your breasts. You lift your chest up, allowing him to toss the fabric up over your head and onto the floor.

Jungkook’s breath stops in his chest. It’s been a long while since he’s seen you naked like this in front of him. Yes, he’s seen you naked countless times before, but he’s never seen you this thin. He’s never seen your skin so rough and patchy before. Thinking of all your hard times in the hospital, all the pain you went through, he kisses your skin with love as he admires you. 

Nothing could take away from how you make him feel. Not the redness of your irritated skin, not your ribs that poke out a little from the lack of nutrients, not the clear tubs that ties just below your chin and falls on your clavicle. No, you’re still you, and he holds you with care remembering just how much you’ve suffered. He wants to make you forget all of it.

Your cold hands startle him when they begin to push his own shirt up. Jungkook smiles down at you, giving you a kiss before he takes it off. Your eyes memorize his body, feeling his skin just as it was the last time you touched him like this. You sigh at the memories, how every one of them failed to recall just how it felt to touch him in real life. Nothing can compare to actually feeling him. Nothing can do justice to the velvet of his skin on your fingertips.

Jungkook gently leans himself back on his calves, sitting more upright as his fingers hook around the band of your pajama pants. He looks at you with permission, and you nod, giving it to him. 

The man slowly allows them to fall off your body, his eyes eating you up as you shiver from the cold.

He’s quick to warm you, though. After sliding off his own pants, he’s on top of you again, his arms holding you to his chest as he kisses the sweet spot on your neck.

“J-Jungkook,” you moan. Your husband simply hums at your arousal, his hips softly grinding onto yours when you wrap your legs around his hips. He still has his boxers on, the length of his cock straining against the fabric. It’s been too long since he’s felt you. Been too long since he’s made love to you. His dick is begging him to feel you again. 

“I need you,” you cry beneath him. 

Jungkook lifts his head from your neck, his forehead gently falling on yours while his lips cascade over your own. Your hands come to his jaw, holding him to your face as he closes his eyes. 

He’s memorizing your touch, memorizing how you feel and how you hold him. He’s memorizing the sound of your breath, low long you take between each one to inhale and exhale. The sound of your heartbeat and the sound of your fingers sliding over his skin. He takes you in as his heart wrenches in his chest.

Jungkook opens his eyes to be met with yours. They’re red around the edges and water begs to fall from your eyelids, but he kisses your cheek in attempt to tell you that he needs you, too.

He shimmy’s off his boxers, his cock springing free against his lower abdomen as he does so. It’s quick, and he’s back to your side the minute the fabric falls on the ground.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips. “So much.”

You bite your lip, struggling to keep the tears in. He looks at you with so much love, so much adoration. You remind yourself that he is your husband, and a tear falls from your eye.

“Don’t cry,” he gulps. “I’ve got you.”

You nod against the palm that holds your jaw. He kisses your tear before he lines himself up with your entrance. You lock your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you as he slides himself in.

A gasp leaves your lips as he enters you. Although he’s slow, it’s been a long while since you felt the length of him. Your muscles aren’t like how they used to be, and you find it somewhat painful, even though he’s being gentle.

“Are you okay? I’m not hurting you, am I?” he pants in worry. You feel so good, so fucking tight, but that gasp you let out washed away any feeling he had down there for a second.

“Hurts a little, but I’ll be okay,” you smile. “J-Just—slow.”

Jungkook nods, the knob in this throat bobbing when he takes the base of his cock and guides it into you. He’s slow, just like you asked, and the slick of your arousal does a lot to make the second pump go much smoother.

“I-Is this a good pace?” he asks you once he delivers the fourth pump into you.

You sigh, your eyes closing as your head falls back. “Yes,” you pant. This is what you missed. You forgot how good it felt to have him inside you like this.

Jungkook nods before towering back over you. His forearms rest near your head as your legs wrap around his waist. He’s not harsh with you, just a medium pace and gentle thrusts in and out. The old him would have complained, would have needed something faster and more intense in order to get off. But the times have changed. It’s been so long, he honestly feels he could cum right now despite the low intensity. 

Jungkook rests his cheek against yours, his head leaning against your skin as he makes love to you. He feels overwhelmed, and his heart races at the thought of you. 

A tear falls from his eye when you run your hands through his hair, the hope in his heart nowhere to be seen when he feels the gentleness of your touch rake through his body. He sobs above you, that wall broken when you kiss his shoulder.

“Jungkook, baby,” you coo. “What’s wrong?”

Jungkook shakes his head, his arms closing in on your figure while his head buries itself in your neck. He thinks about you, about the first time he felt your touch, wondering if this is the last time he ever will. He lets the tears drop as his hand comes to hold the back of your head, the other sliding underneath your neck. He holds you close against his body, squeezing you tight in case you might escape if he didn’t hold you like this. 

The feeling of his dick in you does little as his heart breaks little by little at the thought of the worst. At the thought of this being the last time.

“I can’t lose you,” he croaks, his voice muffled between your skin and the sheets. “I love you too much to let you go.”

Your lips press together, that lump in your throat begging to rise.

“Come here,” you ask him softly. Jungkook slowly raises his head, his nose pressing against yours per your request.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you press a hand to his heart. “I’m gonna be here.”

Jungkook’s tears flow onto your face, and he can’t help but let out another whimper at the message you tell him. He wants to pretend you didn’t just say that. He wants to pretend you told him that you’re all better, that you’re not sick anymore. But he can’t help but clutch the hand that touches the skin over his heart.

“Y/n,” he breathes, his lips red and wet from all the emotion. “Let me see you, just for a little while.”

He refers to your tube, asking if he can take it off.

You nod to him, and Jungkook gently takes it off your face. The choked sob he lets loose at the sight of you breaks your heart. His lip quivers and his nose starts to run as he looks at you with pain in his eyes. He looks at you, memorizing you again and again. He looks at you as his wife, who has been there for him through everything, who has loved him through every stage of his life. He holds your cheeks, his head resting against your forehead as he rocks into you.

“I’ve got you,” you hold him.

Jungkook exhales, his nose rubbing against yours when you tell him so.

“I love you, Jungkook,” you promise. “You’re going to be okay.”

__________________

You passed in the spring.

The season took you in all its blossoms, engulfing your death with new life.

There were cherry blossoms at your funeral.

Nothing but trees and flowers engulfing the outdoors as he stood at the back of the ceremony. Nurse Sandy was there. He hated the way she looked at him as if she knew he would never be the same. 

He couldn’t bring himself to look at you. Not when you couldn’t flash him a smile. Not when you wouldn’t wrap him in your warmth and tell him you love him. He couldn’t look at you with the hope he harbored throughout the entirety of your sickness. It was no longer here. You were no longer here. 

He took a trip not too long after. The new life of spring was too much for him to handle.

You were no longer there with him. That house he spent two years building in hope that you would one day move into it with him as his wife was too silent for him to stay in.

Every inch of him yearned for you. He went through every grieving stage with the roughest of emotions. Clutching the necklace that held a small amount of your ashes around his neck, his heart suffering in agony, his mind playing memories of you over and over and over again.

His pain went over what his body could handle, causing him to turn into someone he didn’t know.

He stayed in upper Russia for a while, embracing the cold. Then moved to Aruba in search for the summer.

Only on your birthday three years later did he return home.

He could almost smell you off the plane, the familiarity of home raking through his lungs violently.

The place he once had made for you has now been occupied by a family in their mid 40s — a couple with two children and a grandmother living together. He smiles, glad that the house has been to some use.

He’s been paying rent on his apartment since he left. You’re still in there, all your belongings and all of your scent still lives within the comfort of his old home. Everything you organized — from the way you folded the laundry to the way you placed the trinkets on your desk — was all still there.

Your smell is gone when he enters his home. It’s dusty and dark. All but welcoming when he enters. There’s a spot with your name on the key holder plastered against the wall, and he tries his best to ignore the way your keys hang there when he places his keys in his own slot.

He’s made plans to sell the apartment by the time of his next trip. You’re not here anymore, and he’s starting to find it difficult to pay rent when he’s spending so much on living as a non-citizen in another country.

He unfolds the cardboard moving boxes in his kitchen, using the masking tape to seal the ends before he starts going through it all.

He starts with the kitchen first.

He sifts through all the shelves and cabinets, placing spices and expired noodles and sugar and flour in the trash. He cleans the sink and counters before he moves onto the dinnerware. The box beside him labeled “Jungkook and Y/n” stares at him with grief when his hands touch the delicate wood of your shared cabinet.

The fine china dinnerware you got as a wedding gift, the “Spider-Man” “Spider-Woman” mugs, the shot glasses with “bride” and “groom”,  your favorite spoon he never understood why it was your favorite when it looked only slightly different than the rest, all go into the box.

The living room is next.

Blankets and cup holders and remotes all go into a different box. He’s got movers taking the couches and coffee table tomorrow, so he tries to clean them off the best he can before he sells them in an auction. Pictures of you and him scatter the walls, small trinkets and souvenirs he got with you or gave you as a gift all go into the box.

His fingers tremble when he realizes what is next: the bedroom. You two shared it, but from what he remembers, you completely took it over. Finishing touches and decorations and picture frames. All of it you insisted would add “hominess” to his rather plain apartment. And he finds that you’re correct when he enters it and turns on the lights.

It’s dusty, and the lights flicker a little when he turns them on. But there it is. Your side of the bed hitting him right in the face.

He gently walks over to it, his fingers brushing over the duvet where you used to lay. He imagines you’re still here with him, ready to burst through those doors and tell him that you’re here with tacos and a new Netflix series to watch. He imagines what you’d say, where you’d touch him, how gentle your embrace would be.

When it comes to be too much, he turns away, focusing his attention on your bedside table.

A picture of you and him flashes back at him, and he feels a pulse in his throat when his finger slowly brushes the dust off the glass surrounding your face. You’re in your graduation gown, hair falling over your shoulders as you’re jumping onto his back. Nothing but smiles and happiness on your face. He remembers this day like the back of his hand. University graduation — one of the happiest days of yours and his life’s—before everything happened.

This is how he remembers you. Sweet and healthy. Nothing but confidence and laughs as you slowly took his heart into your hands.

He places it in his own box, choosing to keep it close to him as he travels around the world. There’s a few digital things and a lamp he stores away before he’s opening your drawer.

He expects to find nothing, but instead sees a stack of cards, all a little dusty, wrapped in a blue ribbon.

When he pulls it out, he turns the stack around and sees that they’re all addressed to him.

Jungkook stops his rummaging, a heart beat in his his chest as he sits down on the bed, examining the large stack of envelopes in his hand.

He reads his name in your handwriting, a thumb gently tracing over the ink before it softly unties the blue ribbon holding them together. He stares at the first one labled: “The first: to Jungkook”. He tears the seal. The envelope reveals a small page filled with your writing. He takes a deep breath.

My husband,

Jungkook pauses, the back of his hand coming to his mouth as the heaviness in his heart sinks all the way down to his feet. 

I wondered when a day would come where I could give this to you. But the more life goes on, I’ve realized these words would be of most meaning when I am gone.

I’ve known for a while I would not continue living life with you. My sickness gets worse with every passing minute, and I’ve since found myself on borrowed time. However, I am so beyond thankful.

All I wanted out of life was spend it with you. Being with you has been the best blessing I’ve received since the day I was born. Marrying you was more than I asked for, and I can go on with no regrets knowing that I get to die with your promise to me.

To say I have no sadness is a hard lie to tell. The thing that consumes my mind the most these days is how you will be when I am gone. How you will come home and how you will continue to live.

You have always loved with everything you had. I felt it with every word you spoke, every breath you took, and every touch you gave. I can only hope you will continue to do so as you did for me since the day we met. That you will find it within you to return.

I don’t know how long it’s been since I have passed when you’ve decided to read this. But for all the things I will not have the chance to say during every hard time in your life, during every morning and every evening, during every achievement and every failure, I want to say them to you now. I want you to come back and read this when you need me. When you need what you know I’d say. What you know is true:

I love you.

I love you and will always continue to do so. My body may be gone, but my soul still holds yours. It holds yours with every stage of my life, with every stage we went through. It holds you knowing that you were there holding mine. I’ve come to return your favor. 

Your hope you gave to me I now give to you. 

I know you will strengthen. I know you will live and you will live with everything you have, just like you always did. You’re my Jungkook. My husband. And I can only hope you feel me walking next to you as you continue to live.

I lived loving you, and i died loving you.

I will always love you. No matter what form my soul takes, it will be there to walk next to yours, to hold it and love it until we meet again.

The paper is crumpled in his hand, clutched against his heart and necklace as he screams into the air. The tears follow in transit, curling his body as he holds your words to his heart. He’s hysterical, the dustiness in the room filling his lungs as he sobs on your side of the bed.

Three years of holding it in, three years of pretending you were still here with him, pretending that it was all just a dream, release out of him in a painful wail. He’s remembering you, your voice playing in his head as he reads your letter. He can hear you telling him.

He remembers that morning. The last one before it happened. How you clutched onto his arm, smiling at him as you picked out a ring. He remembers holding you on the rooftop of the hospital, going through every season with you as he protected you from the wind. He remembers how you held him when he made love to you on your wedding night, how you said “I do” at your wedding. He can see your smile, the sound of your laugh. All of it he can feel.

The stack of envelopes nearly falls out of his lap, but in his fit of sobs, he is able to hold them close. He sifts through them, trying to wipe his tears in order to read them. But his heart only shatters to dust when he reads that they’re all addressed to him, one for each year, for each anniversary, until the 70th one. A part of him laughs, unsure if he will even make it another 70 years as a 34 year old.

Regardless, he runs his finger over the one that stares up at him, and he feels himself begin to heal when he reads:

“Our first Anniversary: to my Jungkook.”

__________________

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser — Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.3k TYPE: Angst, Post-break up WARNING(S): Don't read if you're sensitive to medical stuff, also tw for KAISER-TYPICAL MELODRAMA

“Are you fucking kidding me? That just sounds made up.”

“Sir,” the doctor, who’s been having to deal with Kaiser acting like the hospital is a debate club for the past fifteen minutes, says. Then he lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. In all honesty, he does not want to deal with this. “While there’s an existing argument about the classification of broken heart syndrome, it is a real thing that happens. And you have it as we’ve deduced.”

“I don’t have health problems,” Kaiser says. Of course, those words fly out of his mouth without trouble even when Ness had to call an ambulance on him and everything, since he looked like he was on the brink of death today at practice. “Much less from bullshit reasons like a broken heart.”

“You don’t need to take it literally. That’s just the name. The trigger for the stress varies from case to case.”

Kaiser hopes his defensive statement didn’t reveal anything too personal, and decides to throw off any suspicion by staring down at his lap while frowning like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. At least the doctor doesn’t seem to care because he’s not prying for unnecessary details. Not yet, anyway.

“For how long have you been ignoring the symptoms?”

“I haven’t been ignoring anything,” Kaiser says.

Sure, he was dizzy a few (many) times and short of breath, and disregarded it. And while he can sense the tightness and pain in his chest each time, a recurring physical and tangible ache, Kaiser interprets the experience as some kind of metaphor for the figurative stabbing he was a victim of. The arrhythmia is a natural indignant response to whenever your irritating face pops up in his imagination, since you’re the perpetrator.

All this over some shitty break up. While it’s stupid for someone whose career is in sports to shrug off such obvious signs, until today Kaiser never truly thought it was serious enough to warrant such an overreaction from his body. You shouldn’t have this much power over him. He’s going to kill you next time he sees you for doing this to him.

He’s deep in denial and the grave he’s been digging with his stupid lies is shallow in contrast, inefficient. Can’t even deceive himself.

“It’s most common in people over fifty.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”

“What I’m saying is, I assume you’ve been ignoring this for some time and it escalated to a bad attack. So, do you recall if you’ve gone through severe stress recently? Anything traumatizing even, either physically or mentally? When was it? If you could be exact, that’d be helpful.”

Traumatizing? Traumatizing? Is this man fucking kidding him right now?

Kaiser stares at the doctor as if he’s the stupidest person alive. Forget a person, he is a bug for such a suggestion. Through grit teeth, he relents, “There was something two weeks ago. By the way, it wasn’t traumatizing! That’s ridiculous.”

What’s even more absurd is the notion Kaiser wouldn’t know how much time has passed with perfect accuracy. Fourteen days he hasn’t been sleeping well, hugging his pillow and crying like a loser, cursing you, wanting you back, both a worshipper and a heretic.

What was he feeling at that moment, when you broke things off? Was it overwhelming anger which got him to this point? Though he’s been reliving the moment over and over, Kaiser still can’t identify it. Just something intense zapping him through his veins, a devastating shock, a surge of adrenaline. But surely it was resentment at your audacity to throw him away like disposable trash? He doesn’t like the thought that he’s been so pathetically sad, he got sick because of it, so this is what he’ll go with.

Thinking about it is enough to make him start picking at the skin on his neck like he’s trying to peel the ink off. It’s almost vile. At least he retains the common sense not to squeeze it in front of a medical professional who can send him away to a psych ward with ease.

The doctor, too, looks at Kaiser like he is an insane person. Good thing they pay him enough for this — otherwise, he doesn’t know how he’d deal with having a strange man with a bizarre haircut give him attitude over his diagnosis when it should be reserved for his barber or whoever is responsible.

“Two weeks ago, okay,” he says, writing it down. “Lucky for you, this is temporary and reversible unlike most other things we checked you for. You’ll be fine in about two months with the treatment.”

“So, like I thought, it’s not a big deal. I can still play football, right? Don’t need to lay off or anything?” Kaiser asks.

The doctor sighs. Again. He wants to measure the circumference, thickness and density of Kaiser’s skull. “You’re not listening,” he says, clearly exasperated, but still trying to exert patience. “Your heart is weak and not functioning properly at the moment. You can’t immediately jump back into living the way you usually do. It’s still serious no matter what you say and it can cause complications.”

Kaiser makes an annoyed expression like this is all one big inconvenience rather than a threat to his quality of life. “Are you serious? You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I’m honored you seem to think I’m a hilarious comedian, sir, since this is your nth time asking, but it’s not the case,” he says levelly.

“Don’t get clever with me.”

A sharp inhale through the nose and the doctor’s back on track, maintaining a feeble grasp on his inner peace, at least enough not to snap. Then, after this brief recollection, he reaches out to grab something, then holds it up. It’s a picture that looks either like an abortion-to-be or a black and white photo of lasagna… maybe. “This is your heart.”

Kaiser almost forgot about the ultrasound or whatever since he was strung out and sedated- relaxed throughout that whole ordeal. At the sight of it now, always theatrical, he decides the best course of action is to wrinkle his nose and say ‘eww,’ even though he’s not squeamish. But treating the matter seriously means admitting he has a problem, and he can’t have that.

The doctor pretends he can’t hear anything and points at the relevant area with his finger to illustrate the crux of the matter better. “You have apical ballooning. Do you get it? Even if it’s temporary, you can’t treat it lightly. So-”

Kaiser tunes out the rest of the explanation. Blah, blah, he could harm himself, very original. His gaze is stuck on the echocardiogram, though, and this time he’s nauseous for real, the tiniest bit. It strikes him as particularly ugly and deformed. Organs are repulsive to begin with, anyway, but this… thing is his, and he’s seeing it now. In any case, nothing so disgusting is worth loving or treating with care.

Is this how you’ve come to see him? What does Kaiser look like in your eyes? Ugly and maladjusted on the inside? Someone who likes laughing at other people’s misery, but can’t take even the slightest puncture? So out of touch with his emotions — and of his own volition —, he’s started experiencing them in the most visceral way possible. His desire for you: torment, a disease.

Would you find him dramatic? Maybe, but at least you’d make him laugh and smile and anything else his troubled mind has decided he needs at the moment, from you alone. Doesn’t matter, though. He’s not privy to that kind of thing, not anymore.

There’s a sting in his eyes and Kaiser wipes away his tears with a hasty swipe, though a few more stream down his cheeks. He doesn’t even know what he’s crying about again.

The doctor observes the display with the distanced apathy of someone who’s watched people die and shit themselves.

He gets discharged with a prescription and elaborate instructions on how to go about his physical activities until it’s deemed he’s fully healed at the later check-ups.

Great. Pitiful.

___

What's funny is that Y/n's probably having a good day while all this is going on

[solisaureus]

gets on my knees please could we have any will solace angst hcs 🙏

cracks knuckles

it’s wild to me that will calls himself a killer, supposedly over losing patients. i’m sure that when he first started out as a field medic, it was plenty traumatic when patients died in his care, but calling himself a killer seems extreme. for this reason i think that this line refers to the trauma of emergency triage, which i had him address in my fic guilt

In general, i can think of few things more horrifying than a child surgeon. the kinds of injuries will tends to are nightmare fuel and he’s so young. i’m always thinking about how upset he is in this scene from tho:

in tsats will seemed to have a bit of an inferiority complex, like he always had to be proving himself to nico as useful. he had that nightmare where nico accused him of holding him back, and another where his father told him the only thing he was good for was being a “spare battery.” will’s self worth seems to be tied to his usefulness to other people, which is depressing as fuck.

not only does will have anxiety and fear about not measuring up, he tends to catastrophize when he perceives that he’s failed. after the scene with amphithemis when nico yells at him, he automatically jumps to the worst case scenario, which is nico not only breaking up with him but leaving him to die in the wretched wasteland of tartarus. my boy needs therapy bad

the amount of responsibility on his shoulders is immense, between leading the second largest cabin at camp half blood and running the infirmary, where he’s charged with saving lives. that’s too much for any one person, let alone a teenager, to handle

he was lonely growing up and had pretty much no friends his age. and he doesn’t really appear to have friends at camp either — i know fan works have cecil and lou ellen has his besties, but they were only in one scene together and will doesn’t talk about them at all in tsats. he doesn’t talk or even think about any friends at all, except kayla and austin, who are his siblings. i wonder if he’s just too busy to make friends or if he still feels alone.

his cabin lost two head counselors in as many years and when will had to take on the role, i wonder if he feared that he would be next, like a curse had been passed to him. because lee and michael died in such quick succession, i doubt they had time to teach will anything about how to run the cabin and he had to figure it out himself

i think will was probably fairly close to michael, considering it’s now canon that michael taught him field medicine. michael probably truly felt like a big brother to him, and will had to watch him die

will reacted so strongly to nico saying that nobody at camp half blood wanted him, it makes me think that that genuinely hurt his feelings. since it’s now canon that will and nico met during the events of titans curse, i wonder if will considered nico to be his friend and was worried about him when he disappeared. i wonder if he developed feelings and pined for nico before that point, and hearing nico say that he was going to leave because no one wanted him broke will’s heart

[leclerc-s]

the blue - part six

masterlist previous next

amelia holland WHY IS SINGAPORE SO FUCKING HUMID???

sam holland YOU'RE IN FUCKING SINGAPORE?? YOU WERE ONLY HOME FOR A WEEK BEFORE FLYING OFF TO ANOTHER FUCKING COUNTRY!! THE WHOLE POINT OF YOU NOT TOURING WAS FOR YOU TO BE HOME??

amelia holland BUT MY MAN IS IN SINGAPORE??

sam holland YOUR MAN?? WHO THE FUCK IS YOUR MAN??

amelia holland lewis hamilton duh

harry holland she's so real for that tuwaine barrett that's a mood

harrison osterfield are you officially dating oscar yet?

tom holland why do you want to know? you have a girlfriend.

harrison osterfield not anymore. we broke up.

zendaya oh for fucks sake.

amelia holland i am. i have been since monza.

harrison osterfield oh. never thought he was your type.

amelia holland and what did you think my type was? you?

sam holland WOAH WHAT? AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO DOESN'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING BETWEEN THOSE TWO? tuwaine barrett god sam, get with the program. harrison played with your sister's heart. cheated on his girlfriend with her, emotionally, for months. listen to the love is embarrassing ep to get it. sam holland HE'S THE WEIRD SECOND STRING LOSER? HARRISON WHEN I FUCKING CATCH YOU IT ON SIGHT BITCH!

tom holland YOU'RE OFFICIALLY DATING OSCAR?? OH MY GOD FUCKING FINALLY!

harry holland SHE'LL FINALLY STOP TELLING US ABOUT HER STUPID CRUSH!

amelia holland DON’T TELL MUM! I WANT TO TELL HER MYSELF!

tuwaine barrett BABY HOLLAND FINALLY GOT A BOYFRIEND!! THIS IS CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION!

sam holland DO NOT ENCOURAGE THIS TUWAINE!

tom holland STOP ACTING LIKE YOU DON'T LIKE THE GUY!

SINGAPORE 2023

ameliaholland posted new stories

singapore, you're great but why are you humid?? i'm dying over here.

spotted at a restaurant in singapore. will this be the week red bull loses? god i hope so. sorry max, i still love you, please don't hate me.

singapore, you're beautiful.

oscaroo! have some decency man!

ameliaholland posted new stories

if anyone spots this loser please tell him we got lost. we need help getting back to the hotel and we don't fucking know the name of the hotel!!

BESTIE GOT P2!! LANDO'S ON THE PODIUM! (not congratulating carlos because he thinks he's lando's bestie, clearly it's me)

WOAH! THAT'S MY BESTIE!!! LET'S FUCKING GO!!!

JAPAN 2023

amelia holland HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! GUESS WHO'S IN FUCKING JAPAN??

tom holland daniel?

amelia holland SEBASTIAN VETTEL! I GET TO MEET SEBASTIAN FUCKING VETTEL!!! OH MY GOD! SOMEBODY SEDATE ME!!

sam holland WHAT THE FUCK!! SOMEONE GET ME FUCKING TICKETS TO SUZUKA! I HAVE TO BE THERE!

tom holland LIFE ISN'T FAIR!!

zendaya you three truly are children.

amelia holland IT'S SEBASTIAN FUCKING VETTEL Z!! HE'S A LEGEND! THE ONLY THING THAT WOULD TOP THIS WOULD BE MEETING MICHAEL SCHUMACHER!!

harry holland you can meet his son? mick? he's mercedes reserve driver

amelia holland OH MY GOD YOU'RE RIGHT!!

harrison osterfield are you going to end up dating mick too?

tom holland dude, what the fuck?

amelia holland no because i'm not you. i don't cheat on my significant others asshole.

tuwaine barrett YOU'RE MEETING SEBASTIAN VETTEL??

tuwaine barrett also, what the fuck harrison?? stop being a fucking dick??

tuwaine barrett you weird second string loser

harry holland FOUL!!! get you're fucking shit together osterfield. hop off my sister's dick.

zendaya anyways, tell the boys i say good luck this week!

amelia holland lando just let out the most unholy screech i've ever heard because and i quote "zendaya fucking coleman just wished us good luck."

amelia holland charlie is being salty because he wasn't wished good luck by zendaya.

harrison osterfield charlie?

tom holland i wish him luck!

amelia holland he says he'll blame you if he ends up lower than 5th.

tom holland WHAT THE FUCK? I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS??

amelia holland GET YOUR OWN FRIENDS TOM!

tuwaine barrett GOOD LUCK TO MCLAREN THIS WEEK!

ameliaholland whoever said i would cry when oscaroo got his first podium, you were fucking right. enjoy the close up of me crying after i saw it happen.

view all comments

username girl we all knew this was going to happen. you cried in japan when lando got p2

↳ username not to mention she cried when she met seb

↳ ameliaholland okay no need to call me out guys i get it.

tomholland2013 YEAH! GO OSCAR!

↳ username we love a supportive brother-in-law!

landonorris you straight up bawled your fucking eyes out. charles was concerned you were going to be dehydrated.

charles_leclerc i expect this sort of enthusiasm when i get a win or podium

↳ ameliaholland honestly just get a p3 with that fucking tractor and i'll cry tears of happiness for you.

zendaya i believe i am the reason for this

↳ oscarpiastri i think you are, please keep sending good vibes our way

↳ landonorris we couldn't let you down

↳ username WE ARE THRIVING HERE AT MCLAREN BECAUSE THE ZENDAYA SENT GOOD VIBES OUR WAY

mclaren admin is worried, are you okay ms.holland?

↳ ameliaholland i'm fine, oscar gave me a bunch of water

samholland1999 ROOKIE OF THE YEAR! (sorry logan)

↳ logansargeant no i get it, i have him saved as rookie of the year on my phone (i lost a dare)

↳ ameliaholland i told you not to bet against me and here you are looking like an idiot on my instagram comments

↳ username i want to know what this bet was

tuwaine YEAH! WHO KNEW SENDING GOOD VIBES MCLAREN'S WAY WOULD LEAD TO THIS?

ameliaholland posted a new story

seen by hazosterfield, landonorris, logansargeant and others

uber driver 10/10

¡leclerc-s speaks! VEGAS QUALI HERE WE GO! (i am not excited for this)

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[koji-haru]

Time Travel Au Part: 3

Michael did find Lucifer and Lilith. He also reminded them of their assigned roles in Eden. Unfortunately, he didn't catch them do anything that would warrant their banishment from Eden.

Maybe next time.

Adam laid on his stomach on the grass, hands folded under his chin, feet swinging in the air as he watched Lilith and Lucifer getting a lecture from Michael. Both their gazes were turned down, a sullen look painted on both of their faces. It was obvious they didn't care for Michael's sermon, and were only sorry for being noticed. Adam hoped that Michael does more than notice one day. The sooner they were gone, the sooner he can truly enjoy the paradise God had made for him.

“Lucifer, the reason you're allowed in Eden is to watch over the humans. BOTH humans.”

“Lilith, although you're the newest here, you should already know better than to stall the plan God has made for you.”

And so and so…

After a few more minutes, Michael ended his lecture, turning towards Adam. Noticing that Michael was heading his direction, Adam quickly wiped the smug grin off his face, and replaced it with a concerned look.

Michael crouched in front of Adam. “I've talked to them. You wouldn't be left alone again.”

Adam beamed at Michael. “Really? Thank you so much Michael!”

Too bad I'd actually prefer if they left me alone. Permanently.

Michael gave a final stern look at both Lucifer and Lilith, and once satisfied, took off to the skies.

Left on his own, Adam turned his attention back to both victims of Michael's scolding. He stood up, dusting himself a bit.

“Well, it's getting dark. Want to get dinner together?”

He gave a slight smile, head tilted to the side. The last rays of the day dipped lower and lower behind him, his golden eyes seemingly glowed under the shadow he casted.

—

A few days have passed since then. Michael's scolding had only taught both Lilith and Lucifer to be sneakier, Lilith and Adam’s relationship only broke further apart, and while Lucifer tried to be more present for Adam, Adam always seemed to be preoccupied with others things to pay any attention to him. Lucifer would ask questions about what his new inventions, and Adam would always answer politely but brief, often leaving no space for further conversation until Lucifer decided to fly away.

Today Adam was going to finish making his acoustic guitar. One of the few times he actually sought out Lucifer was to ask about instruments, hoping to get a guitar. To his disappointment, the guitar wasn't something the angels made, and they only knew of (for now) of fiddles, lutes and harps. While Adam knew how to play every instrument to have existed, the guitar was always his favourite. And so, he painstakingly carved himself a guitar, making progress day by day.

He gave the strings a test strum before deciding to play a tune. It was a song he made for Eve to comfort her after they got casted out of Eden.

He closed his eyes playing the song, trying to feel tune as it came back to him. It had been a very long time since he played the song. Sure, he played songs for other people, he had his concerts, requests from both winners and heavenborn, and of course he always played for his girls. But this song, he only played it for Eve and his children.

Memories came flooding back to him, both bitter and sweet. Tender moments with Eve under the moon, a campfire birthday celebration, Cain's banishment… He missed them all dearly, but was he willing to leave paradise just to have them again? What if history repeats itself once he leaves Eden? Cain killing Abel and his banishment, his children getting sick and dying before him, struggling everyday just to get by. No. He refused to relive that. Despite the good that came with Eve and their children, he refuses to suffer in life again. This time he will be himself first. This time he will be selfish. Even if Eve bites the forbidden fruit again. He will remain in the paradise made for him. After a lifetime of hardship he deserved it. Those moments with Eve will just have to remain as memories.

Lost in his song, Adam didn't notice the approaching presence behind him until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Adam.”

Adam jolted awake from his reverie, turning to see who disturbed him.

“Oh. Hi Michael. What brings you here?”

“I came to inspect the garden,” he paused, before making his way in front of Adam.

“I called out to you a few times.”

Michael scanned over Adam, checking for anything wrong. Sure, he still believed that God can not make mistakes, but he noticed that Adam sometimes didn't respond to calls of attention. In fact, that was the first thing he did since he was made. And from what he heard from Lucifer, the first man always seemed to be preoccupied, at least mentally, and muttering incomprehensible things. Then there was Lilith. So perhaps while perfect, the first humans had some ‘quirks’ he couldn't yet fully understand.

“Oh, I guess didn't hear you.”

Michael remained in front of Adam, still scrutinising him. He was sure he called out loud enough to be heard.

Fuck. Have I been too reckless?

Lucifer and Lilith, he knew how to get around them, to do as he pleased without being too suspicious. But Michael, well, he was never that close with the angel, and so he didn't know how he worked.

“I was trying out this new instrument I made. I call it the guitar,” Adam presented his newly crafted guitar to Michael, a proud look on his face.

Michael took a glance at the guitar, and then around Adam. “Lilith is not with you?”

Adam shook his head.

“And Lucifer..?

“Both of them said they had other things to do…” Adam looked down, one hand on the back of his neck, trying to look sheepish.

Michael shook his head and released a disappointed sigh, and as he was about to leave, Adam stopped him.

“Do you want to listen to me play a song?”

Adam looked up from his spot on the ground, a small, shy smile across his face. He couldn't let Michael leave just like that, now that he was here. This was his opportunity to observe the angel, to understand how his cogwheels turn, and hopefully get him on his side when the time comes.

Michael seemed to hesitate for a moment, before tucking away his six wings and taking a spot beside Adam. He turned to Adam, crystal blue eyes offering him his full sincere attention.

“I did say you wouldn't be left alone again.”

[Guitarhero is a go!!!]

Part 2

Part 4

[fanofstuff01]

Okay so my toxic trait is that I have to take any AU featuring Adam and Lucifer and make it into Adamsapple.

I took that popular swap AU of Adam as Charlie and Lute as Vaggie buut I made Lucifer Vaggie.

Let me tell you.

So Lilith and Adam were created as equals, two toddlers. They grew together, and with the guidance of Sera, one of the High Seraphims of Heaven. She was basically their mother, preparing them to be adults to “fulfill their purpose”.She grew attached to them a lot, as if they were her real children.

When the two reached the age 28, they were expected to lie together and make love to each other by the angels. But they couldn’t, they grew together and could never view each other that way.

Also as they grew up, the differences between the two also resurfaced. Lilith asked for more than the garden could offer while Adam was happy with his life in the garden, even though he’d prefer to have it a little different and not be always expected to make love to Lilith and protect her while she could to herself.

Sera obviously was the only one to truly see Lilith’s dreams of getting out of the garden and Adam’s never voiced want for his own life with his own choices.

So she offered the other angels the idea of letting them have free will, but it was rejec instantly. She also lost the privilege of going to the garden for other thousand years, just so she wouldn’t mess with “the God’s plan”.

Also, when the angels heard from Sera that the two were not happy together, they took Adam’s rib and created Eve, a new wife for him. She was created as an adult instead, with only her purpose. Adam and Eve actually fell in love.

Sera, still wanting to get to her children and save them, broke her punishment and got Eve to eat the apple.

No forcing, no tricks, she just told her that she’d be able to choose her path if she did and she ate it.

That let the sin to enter Earth, caused the humans to be banished from the garden and Sera to be cast to Hell.

Adam, Eve and Lilith all lived tough lives, but only Eve made it to Heaven. She was the last one to die and the first human soul to enter Heaven.

Because before that, winner and sinner system didn’t exist. So both Lilith and Adam’s souls just…. Vanished. Like they were never created.

Sera always hoped that they’d end up in Hell and she’d be able to get them back, so the news of their death death devastated her too much.

But then, she decided that maybe she could try and bring at least their start back.

With an ancient spell, she took her memory of their creation, and kind of repeated it, just with Hell’s dirt instead of Earth and them as actual children. It took her too much, but when she saw the two babies looking at her, she knew it was worth it.

Once again, she raised them herself, making them the official Prince and Princess of Hell and her kids. ((She also created Emily as their younger sister))

Then, around when the exterminations started and Adam was about 22 by human age, he came up with the idea of redemption.

-

Okay now to Lucifer. It’s not as long I swear.

So Lucifer and Michael twin Seraphims were created to protect Heaven and its citizens when winners and sinners begin to enter the realms. They were the twin, supposed members of the army of Heaven if there were anything threatening Heaven. ((They’d be at high position but not the leaders until they got old enough to be so))

Michael took his position very seriously and tried to appear as serious, while Lucifer was kind of in his own world and was way relaxed than Michael, while still a soldier.

Then they threw the idea of exterminations and chose Eve as the head, and Micahel, Lucifer and Charlie, a heaven born girl with a lot of “passion” for it as her second in commands.

Buut Lucifer couldn’t kill a demon Charlie stabbed him in the back and teared his wings and Adam found him blah blah blah.

—

Does this make sense??? Please tell me your thoughts, I wanna improve.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 @decentsoupperson

@adambrainrot I changed it a bit but I still like the version I told you too lmao.

[imtryingbuck]

Birthday Bash

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theo

Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.

Word count: 2,513

Warnings: angst. swearing. fluff. don’t hate me!

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

It’s been three months since Theo and Bucky got married and in those three months despite the rocky start, they had become closer than Bucky had ever been with a woman.

He’s had girlfriends, friends with benefits and one night stands and though they hadn’t made that step in their relationship yet Bucky’s never felt a connection like the one he had with Theo before. And truthfully it scared him a little.

The difference between the Theo they met three months prior to the Theo they knew now was huge. Don’t get it wrong she was still timid, sometimes finding herself going in to corners of a room or sitting on the floors or keeping her head down. And then there were times where she felt comfortable around everyone, she laughed along with everyone, and like right now she’s sat with Sam on the counter eating Oreo’s.

She had truly found herself being there.

Bucky stood by the archway watching the scene of Sam and Theo sitting there giggling like schoolgirls, he watches as Theo’s legs swing back and forth lightly listening to what Sam was telling her. The smile on his lips grew the longer he stared at her.

Bucky shared his thoughts, fears, secrets with Theo as they laid in bed at night when the rest of the world had gone to sleep. She opened up more about the suffering she went through, she told him about her dreams and hopes that she use to have when she was a child - it honestly broke his heart when she confessed that she didn’t have those same dreams and hopes now.

And with the help from Wanda her reading had improved massively, now at night when Bucky struggled to find sleep he would ask her to read to him - mainly just to hear her voice more and to see the look of pure excitement that lit up her face.

“You’ve got an admirer over there” Bucky heard Sam quietly say to Theo whose attention turned from the Oreo that she had been struggling to get ahold of to Bucky still standing there.

“Hi” she whispered.

“Hi pretty girl” god he loved calling her that just so he could see her blush. Though he wasn’t lying, to him she was hands down the prettiest woman he had ever laid eyes on.

“Hi Bucky, I know I’m so pretty aren’t I?” Theo couldn’t help but laugh at Sam’s response, she laughs even more when Bucky replies with his middle finger in Sam’s direction.

“Anyway, Theo something got dropped off for you” Bucky handed over the white envelope, shrugging when both Theo and Sam give him a look of confusion.

Opening it she pulled out a card that read Happy Birthday. Bucky frowned as seeing the words upset that she knew his birthday and everyone else’s but he didn’t know hers. His and Sam’s frown deepen when they see Theo frown as well. Inside it read.

***

Theodora,

Happy birthday.

From Michael & Eliza.

***

The reason for why she was frowning was because this was the first birthday card that she had ever received.

“Baby?”

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay”

“What does it say?” Theo hands him the card for him to read, it makes him angry with how plain and simple it is. “I didn’t know it’s your birthday”

“I erm, I was never allowed to celebrate it s-so it’s just another day” she shrugs it off as if it was nothing truthfully that’s how it was, it wasn’t anything special to her father so it wasn’t to her. Though she hated to admit that this simple card with hardly anything written inside meant a great deal to her. She was always jealous of watching from the corner of the living room as her fathers children would open their cards and presents on birthdays and at Christmas whilst she was the one that had to clear the destroyed wrapping paper.

Every year she was sure that there was more for her to clean than the year before.

“Theo-“

“It’s okay. I’m going to go and find Wanda and Nat” Before Bucky could say anything Theo had jumped down off the counter and already out of the kitchen.

The two men share a look that says the same thing. It’s time to celebrate her birthday.

Wanda receives a text from Bucky asking her and Nat to take Theo out for a few hours so he could get things ready. Wanda gasped when she found out it was Theo’s birthday. Knowing what Bucky was planning the two women who had grown extremely close to their friend’s wife decided to take her to dress shopping.

Whilst they were away Bucky already left to find the perfect gift for her. The other guys following so they could also get her something.

Store after store Bucky dragged his friends into trying to find the perfect gift for Theo, it was starting to stress him out until he came across the store that held something that he knew she would love and want.

“Buck?”

“Grab a trolley and get everything you can grab, all of you” Bucky said already pushing his trolley down the isle.

The moment ‘All Crafts’ came into view he knew he found the perfect gifts for her. Ever since Theo and Wanda went shopping for paints and were each learning how to draw Theo had became obsessed with painting. And she was amazing at it. Her paintings had now been hung up not only in their bedroom but in the living room and even his office.

He texted Wanda to ask to delay their trip and when she texted back saying that they were going to take Theo to the cinema to watch a comedy that they had wanted to see, Bucky smiled knowing that he had plenty of time to do what he wanted to do.

Six trollies full later Bucky left the guys apart from Steve to head into the Thrift store so he could see if the rug that had caught Theo’s eye when they went shopping was still there, and thankfully it was so Bucky brought that too. Soon enough him and the guys were heading home to get the plan in motion. On the second floor at the left end of the house sat an empty room, like Wandas library the room had large windows that not only let in natural light but also had the perfect view of the trees and the flower gardens.

It was the only room of the house she hadn’t gone in since she had arrived at his their home.

Bucky, Steve, Sam, Thor, Clint and Vis worked tirelessly to make sure the shelves that had been stacked on the floor since he moved into the house up on the walls. Laying down the rug and placing two of the canvases on the two easels he got, they placed the remaining canvases against the walls whilst Sam and Thor built the storage unit that Bucky had laying around for all the paints and brushes to call home.

Steve looked around the room proud of what they had managed to do in the little time they had, though something was off. There was something missing. “Buck, Theo loves the plants that Wandas got in her library don’t she?”

“Yeah why?”

“How about me and you head to where Wanda got hers from and get some?”

“Yes! Shit, shit where did Wanda get them from?”

“I don’t know, I’ll text her” Steve does as he says and once he finds out he and Bucky leave the rest to finish off, not like they minded and headed to get the plants that Wanda suggested in her text.

“Shit Steve their on their way back”

“Buck… we’re literally pulling up now”

“I know, I know but-oh fuck what if she doesn’t like it?”

“Bucky she’ll love it I’m sure of it, now help me get these plants out”

Bucky replaces the large plant for the fifth time only finding himself putting it in the original place when the front door shut. Rushing out of the room he shuts the door ducking under the red ribboned bow that Clint had done.

All the guys lean against the railing looking down at the three women with a sneaky smile on their lips, which had the two red heads looking up squinting at them and Theo giving them a questioning glance. Bucky made his way down the stairs going straight to Theo, placing a kiss to her lips before telling her that he needed to give her birthday present to her, shushing her attempts at telling him that he didn’t need to get anything for her, he took her hand in his and led her upstairs.

Turning the corner his heart thumping loudly against his rib cage terrified of her reaction to his gift to her. She frowned seeing the ribbon on the door, the expression deepening when he hands her over the scissors that Steve passes to him. “Here, I-I really hope that you like this”.

All the men wait with bated breath and the red heads wait in anticipation as Theo cut the red ribbon carefully hating that she was destroying something so pretty. Taking a glance back at Bucky who nods encouragingly, she wraps her hand around the brass swirl ball door handle turning it and pushing the white wooden door open.

The light gasp falling from her mouth had Bucky shifting from foot to foot, his heart aching as she turns to face him with tears glistening her eyes. “T-this-is this for me?”

“Yes, do-do you like it?”

“Just for me?” All of them hating the way her voice sounded so small and unsure of if this was really just for her or not.

“Yes baby it’s just for you” moving closer to her he takes her hands in his, squeezing lightly. “Do you not like it?”

“I love it. Thank you Bucky”

“You’re welcome my love, I will admit though that the guys did help too”

“T-thank you guys” they all smile at her and wave off her thanks as it honestly wasn’t needed. “Ca-can I go in?”

“Of course you can”

Taking timid steps, keeping her hand wrapped around Bucky’s - tugging him behind her as she explored the room that was just for her, just like how Wanda had her own safe space she now had her own.

Bucky’s stomach began fluttering as her bright blue eyes continued to shine and grow with each item she looked at. “We can get you a couch and a little table? And whatever else you want”

“Really? Thank you Bucky! T-this… you didn’t have to do this but I love it”

“Yes I did! I’m just sorry I didn’t get you more”

“This is the most I’ve ever received” she smiled and squeezed his hand.

Wanda notices the way Bucky’s body tensed so decided to pull their attention from one another to her, all of them feeling bad that none of them had the chance to wrap their presents for her, she shook her head telling them that they didn’t need to get her something which they tried to argue that they did.

Bucky and the guys stood in the foyer all dressed in suits waiting for the girls to retreat from getting dressed in Wanda’s bedroom. The guys couldn’t help but chuckle at hearing the girls singing… very poorly. When the door finally opened Bucky thought his heart was going to stop beating when his eyes met Theo’s.

Dressed in dark green cinched waist flared dress with butterfly sleeves - she learned that they were called that by Wanda. The white chunky short heels detailed with pearl strap, though the heels weren’t that big Wanda and Nat had to help her walk around the room trying to get use to them as she wasn’t use to wearing heels.

Wanda had loosely curled Theo’s hair whilst Nat was trying to decide which clutch would fit her friend’s outfit.

Standing at the top of the stairs taking in a deep breath, giving Bucky a tight lipped smile before linking arms with both red heads flanking either side of her, they descended the stairs.

“You… you’re so beautiful” Bucky spoke softly reaching out to take Theo’s hand in his, placing his lips to the back of her hand. 

“Thank you” she blushed at the attention of not only Bucky but from everyone there.

Arriving to the restaurant Bucky got out of the car first, opening the door for Theo he takes her hand in his. Being led to a private section by the hostess who had greeted them as soon as they got through the door, Theo sat next to Bucky with Wanda on her other side.

As they waited for their meal the conversation never died down, due to Theo shutting down when ever the conversation turned to her and her life the group began telling her stories of their lives and shared embarrassing stories about Bucky, much to his chagrin.

“Theo you should have seen his-“ Sam’s voice came to a halt when a shrill voice interrupted him.

“Bucky? Oh my goodness, I haven’t seen you since the wedding!” Bucky tensed the second he felt Theo stiffen next to him. “I-it’s me Lucy” she reintroduces herself, heat raising in her cheeks out of embarrassment at having to do that.

“Right”

“What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying a nice night out with my wife and family, so… go away”

Theo’s eyes widen at hearing the way Bucky spoke to Lucy, she just knew that she was going to be in trouble with her father when he heard about the way the man to her left spoke to Michael’s favourite daughter. Her eyes moved cautiously back and forth between Bucky and Lucy as they stared each other down, the former looking unfazed and quite bored really.

Finally, with a huff and a stomp of her foot Lucy spins around and scurries out of the restaurant bumping into staff and customers on her way out.

“Are you okay?” Bucky turned his attention to Theo, watching as she nods with a smile he leaned in to kiss her.

As they left the restaurant after having such a wonderful night, full of laughter and conversations that flowed easily, the plan was to go to the ice cream shop just down the road that Wanda had suggested.

Bucky watched as Theo and Wanda walked slightly ahead arm in arm, smiling at how much different his wife had become from the woman they had all met months before.

It all happened in slow motion.

A sleek black car that none of them paid any attention to, began to slow down and before any of them had any chance to react they all heard five loud bangs one after the other.

As the car sped off with an ear painful screech Bucky’s heart stopped beating at hearing a scream.

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Tags: @sapphirebarnes @bellabarnes1378 @unaxv @skulliecadaver-blog @mrsnikstan @sebastians-love @pattiemac1 @julvrs @undf-stuff @violetwinterwidow01 @cjand10

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(Hades and Persephone AU)

⚠️warning this story will have incest in it because it is based on Greek mythology since all the gods married each other⚠️

*the world was ruled by powerful gods, the three most important ones were the three brothers, Michael who ruled over the skies and was King of the Gods, Gabriel who ruled over the oceans, and finally there was Lucifer who ruled over the underground kingdom of the dead, today the gods were called to celebrate the ascension of yet another one of Michael’s bastard children, this time the mother was Sera the Goddess of the Crops and Fertility, unlike Michael’s other bastard children, this one couldn’t be tormented by his wife because Sera was a very important goddess*

Michael: I guess it is a good thing my wife decided to not be hear today for I have heard this son of mine is the most beautiful and she would be driven mad with envy.

Gabriel: They say that each time you have a child.

Michael: I heard this time it is true.

*Lucifer rolled his eyes as they laughed, he watched as Sera walked into the room with a young man who wore a veil over his face as if he was a maiden*

Michael: Greetings Sera.

Sera: I would like to present our son Adam.

*Sera pulled the veil off of Adam’s face and Lucifer saw that the rumors didn’t lie, Adam was indeed Michael’s most beautiful child, he had eyes of molten gold, soft brown hair, and lightly tanned skin, this young man represented life in the way that Lucifer represented death*

Michael: You are indeed very pretty, you shall be the God of Spring.

*a look of anger and disappointment briefly crossed Adam’s face, but only Lucifer saw it, this young man deserved to be more than just some god of spring*

Adam: Thank you father.

*Adam hid in the corner feeling anger towards both Michael and Sera even though he loved both, angry tears filled his eyes, he had never been so embarrassed in his life to just be the God of Spring, but he was surprised when he felt a hand hold his hand, he looked and saw it was Lucifer, Adam was amazed by how handsome the ruler of the Underworld was dressed in black and silver*

Lucifer: You deserved better than what they gave you.

Adam: Mother pressured father into giving me a lesser title even though I am strong, stronger than most of his children. She even pressuring me to take a vow of eternal chastity. I don’t want to be a virgin forever.

*Lucifer gently guided Adam to another room in Mount Olympus so they could be alone, it wasn’t surprising that Adam broke down crying, but you to Lucifer’s shock, Adam kissed him on the lips*

Adam: Please Lucifer, take my virginity. My mother can’t force me to take a vow of eternal chastity if I am no longer a virgin.

Lucifer: Is that what you truly wish?

Adam: It is.

Lucifer kissed him again and guided him down onto the bed. He pushed up Adams robes and pulled down the silken underwear he wore and saw that Adam had both reproductive parts.

Lucifer: I know this is sudden, but if you bare at least one of my children you can stay in the Underworld with me. Sera can never make you anything you don't want to ever.

Adam spread his legs wide: Please.

Luicfer removed his own robes and sunk his dick into Adams inviting wet heat.

Adam moaned with pleasure, to think that he would have been forced to never experience pleasure like this ever.

Adam: Oh yes!~

Lucifer: You are absolutely perfect, my darling.~

Lucifer was going to make Adam his Queen of the Underworld, he decided that in that moment. They would have many babies and rule together.

No one, not even Sera would be able to take Adam away for he would be bound to Lucifer forever.

They kissed each other as they finished, Lucifer came inside of Adam with the highest of hopes that he was now pregnant with their first child.

Adam: I.... I think I love you.

Lucifer smiled: Good, because I know I love you. Join me in the Underworld?

Adam: I would love to Luci.

With Adams virginity gone and him possibly pregnant, Adam didn't want to leave Lucifer. They got dressed and Lucifer opened a portal.

They walked hand in hand into the Underworld.

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

COOKIE JAR!

when a new bakery opens up in your small town, both its indescribable pastries and michael kaiser, the ridiculously attractive patissier, become the talk of the town. you love chowing down on a little treat yourself, worn out from your responsibilities, although that comes at the cost of bravely fending off a certain lovestruck pastry chef...

gender neutral reader

content warning(s): patissier au

Life was all about balance. This was a lesson you learned very quickly once you entered the working world, the world of functional adults, the world of corporatism and responsibilities. You never had any real qualms with your job: it paid well, your work was never too much, and your coworkers were all pleasant.

But even then, it still meant that every night you clocked out of your office to go home, fatigue clung to your body in the same incessant way the bitter aftertaste of coffee clung to your mouth in the morning.

Life was truly about the silver lining. The details. The finer things in life. It was the reason why you focused so much on treating yourself for even the smallest things. In the great scheme of the universe and the inevitable march of time, the only thing that truly ever mattered was the joy you could wring out from your drab life.

And that was where Patisserie Munchen stepped into your life.

The newly built bakery had become the talk of the town overnight. You avoided the opening days for a while, knowing that the curious customers would overrun the bakery. You settled for your usual coffeeshop and treats, letting the initial huzzah of the shiny new patisserie wear off before you even stepped foot into it. 

But you still heard a lot about it. Your coworker gushed about how utterly delicious the pastries were, made with a skillfully trained hand that the knock offs at Starbucks simply couldn’t compare to! Even on your lunch breaks, you couldn’t help but peep the flyers boasting the pretty German bakery: a foreign delicacy that was unlike anything in your quaint middle-of-nowhere neighborhood.

What you overheard the most was not about the patisserie’s baked goods nor even the exoticness of it (or at the very least, the most exotic a goddamn German bakery could get), but it was about the owner and the man behind it all. 

The patissier himself. 

“Oh, he’s such a beaut!” Your coworker’s mother had bashfully admitted when you dropped by for dinner one day. “All the women in town are gushing about him! He’s so tall and handsome, with the most gorgeous German accent you’ve ever heard. He’s from Germany, you know. It wouldn’t hurt if a young thing like you were to catch his eye. I don’t think he’s that far off in age from you.”

Geh. You bit back a wave of disgust at the memory. That had been months ago, and your feet now instinctually led you in the direction of Patisserie Munchen the very instant you were done with your work for the day. The night sky hung heavy above you, and when you approached the small building, it was empty and illuminated like a lonely lighthouse in the distance.

And like you did every night, you braced yourself as you opened the door.

“Daaaaaaaaaarling!” A familiar voice broke your peace the moment you stepped into the patisserie. Red hot annoyance shot through your body. If only you weren’t so hooked on the delicious bread here, you would have abandoned this patisserie a long time ago.

“Don’t call me that,” you brusquely grunted. “People are going to think we’re dating.”

“Well, if that’s an issue, we can always start dating. That way it won’t bother you anymore, ja?”

You picked up a tray and a pair of tongs, deadpanning at the beautiful man. The only thing on your mind right now was stuffing some pastries in your face and filling up your very empty stomach before going home to unwind after a long work day. “Maybe in another life, Kaiser.”

Most of the bread boxes were empty at this point, which was customary practice. For a patisserie this high in demand, it was only natural that everything were to sell out before the end of the day. The only things that were left behind were some few straggling pieces of bread and the example cakes stacked high in the display shelves.

Which, also notably, besides a handful of birthday cakes and whatnot, were all stuffed to the brim with exquisitely decorated wedding cakes.

(You asked Ness, Kaiser’s assistant, about the cakes once. 

“You guys sure make a lot of wedding cakes,” you laughed weakly, eyeing the three-tiered cake in the display window. As much as you hated to admit it, it was beautiful. Captivating to the eye and alluring to the imagination, it was evident that a skilled hand had poured a lot of time and love into hand-frosting every laborious detail on the cake. “Is there a lot of weddings happening or something?”

Ness paused, and he thought for a second. “Not particularly. This place is a small town, so if there was a wedding taking place, I’m sure you would know.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Huh. Then is this just for show?”

“In a way.” Ness boasted endlessly about the rigorous schooling Kaiser had gone through. He had graduated as a prodigy from one of the most prestigious baking schools in Germany, and finessed work like this was his specialty. Ness droned on and on about how Kaiser was nothing like those amateur pastry chefs who could only churn out average cakes and that his boss was truly like an emperor in the kitchen, commanding ingredients to become his subjects and crafting them into the stronghold that he envisioned.

You stood there listening to him go on and on, not necessarily having the heart to cut him off. “T-That’s fantastic, Ness!”

“As for the wedding cakes…,” the young man had hummed. He grinned at you sweetly. “Consider it a kind of subliminal messaging of sorts?”

And that was when you knew you needed Kaiser dead expeditiously.)

“Here, darling.” Kaiser gestured for you to come closer to the counter. You eyed him suspiciously until he reached down and brought forth an already prepared tray, stuffed to the heavens with all sorts of different breads and pastries. 

Some were filled with jam and cream, others decorated with generous helpings of cheese and veggies… Just looking at them made your mouth water. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, and Kaiser grinned proudly when he noticed you making a beeline for them.

“I set some aside just for my favorite patron,” he sang, watching you pick out the ones you wanted. “I wasn’t sure which ones you’d want, so I saved a little bit of everything for you. Aren’t I so sweet and kind and perfect husband material?”

You stopped for a moment to glare at him. 

You hated how right the gossip was. You couldn’t deny the fact that Kaiser had a horrible personality: conceited, arrogant, downright rude at times. But he was gorgeous, breathtaking just like his handmade cakes. With hair the same color as silken-spun gold and eyes as blue and refreshing as a sunny day sky, Kaiser was truly like a breath of fresh air in the drab monotone of the corporate life that had a chokehold on you. Even the way he was dressed, with a small apron tied around his waist and a white shirt slightly unbuttoned at the top of his chest, was nothing like the colorless business casual that dragged on your eyes daily.

You refused to give into his antics. “How much do I owe you for the bread?”

He winked seductively. “I could give it to you for free in exchange for a kiss.”

This bastard…! You gritted your teeth as heat unconsciously flooded your face, and you pouted as you did your best to keep your cool. You dug around in your pocket to bring out your wallet, and you wiggled in exaggeratedly in his face.

“I’m paying with this. With money,” you stressed. Kaiser shrugged, refusing to let go of the playfulness in his expression. He rang you up, lovingly placing all the bread inside a pretty little bag, complete with a blue ribbon and a small blue rose sticker that complemented the tattoo tracing up his arm and neck.

“For someone who claims to hate me so much, you still visit me everyday,” he added on, handing the bag to you. Your stomach turned at the sickly sweet tinge in his voice, and he leaned over the counter again, posing himself perfectly so that you could catch a generous glimpse of his toned chest and muscled arms. He had bragged to you once about how it was all natural muscle made from years and years of kneading dough. “It almost makes you look like you’re in love with me.”

You almost dropped the bag.

What audacity! What depravity! What indolence!

“Of all the things, you could accuse me for,” you took a deep breath and shook your head, “Falling in love with you is definitely not one of them. As if anyone could fall for someone as annoying as you!”

He shrugged cheekily, his golden hair tumbling over his shoulders. “I don’t know. I’d say I’m pretty popular around these bits. You’ve seen my admirers. I’d say you’re a pretty lucky one, to have a man as in-demand as me chasing after you. C’mon, darling…”

He batted his eyes up at you. Again, your body crawled with a sick mixture of both disgust and desire at the sight. You hated him, and you hated how attractive he was. You hated his stupidly lowered sexy eyes, and you hated the apple-like flush of his milky skin. You hated the cherry-pink color of his lips, and you hated the way his body made your heart jump up to your throat whenever he moved the slightest bit.

No. No—you had to keep your calm! You couldn’t give in, couldn’t let him win so easily. You were a rational person, and it was this level-headedness of yours that had gotten you this far in your adult life. 

“If your bread wasn’t so goddamn delicious,” you muttered, swallowing thickly, “I would have found another bakery to go to. I’ll admit that you’re this skilled. More than anywhere else by a long shot. But don’t delude yourself! If it weren’t for your bread, I would never come here!”

Kaiser hummed at your declaration, and he pinched a lock of his hair in between his fingers, absentmindedly twirling it around his knuckles. You watched with your heart bundling up into a quivering stack of nerves as a coy smile bloomed across his lips, and he laughed at you with a voice so sweet that you could only describe it as angelic.

“Well, darling, if it’s my bread you like so much…,” he chuckled, shaking his head at you as if he was chastising a young child rather than making coherent conversation with a fully grown adult customer. “We really should get married!”

“HUH????????”

“It’s not that difficult to follow, don’t you think?” He gleefully explained. “If we get married, I’ll bake bread for you every day! I’ll feed you a delicious breakfast and package up a pretty lunch for you to take to your cute day job, and when you come home, I’ll welcome you in my arms with a feast fit for a beautiful monarch! That way you get to eat my bread to your heart’s content, and I can quit coveting you and take you up as my beloved darling that I’ll dote over for the rest of my life!”

You gawked at him. “You’re- You’re insane…!”

“All great things come from a bout of madness, sweet love,” he giggled. “Mull it over while you go home, okay? You’re going to come back to buy more bread tomorrow, aren’t you? Oh, don’t make that face—I know you will. I’ll ask you every day until you say yes! And then we can be the happiest couple ever!”

You turned on your heel, unable to stop your heart from pounding wildly against your chest or your face from flushing and heating up uncontrollably at Kaiser’s shameless courtship. “G-Goodnight, Kaiser…! I’m going home!”

He wiggled his fingers at you in a mocking goodbye, smiling all-too-knowingly to himself. “Goodnight, my future love! I’ll bake lots more delicious bread for you tomorrow as well~”

x

[michaelmilligan]

Do y'all even know how much I rotate post-canon Midam in my mind? Like, every day my brain is speed-running a fix-it where Michael is brought back.

And it can go so many ways.

Michael getting brought back, immediately rushing to Adam, and Adam accepting him back with only love and relief in his heart? Absolutely believable.

Michael being brought back, dragging his feet about going to Adam even though he desperately wants to see him, but also he pretty much betrayed his brothers and sided with God, and when he does finally go see him, Adam hits him with the whole 'How could you, I thought we were friends!' and takes a really long time to be convinced that Michael still likes him and wants to be with him? ALSO absolutely believable.

There's so much in between that, and there are of course several factors influencing which would be more likely - like how much time passes until Michael is brought back, whether Adam has been spending time Sam and Dean or not, and how much they told him, if anything. But at the end of the day, there is I think one big question that decides where it comes out to. And we simply don't see enough of those two on screen to be able to answer that question with any clarity.

The question is, how much of their feelings have these two shared?

And I don't necessarily mean this in a romantic way. I'm all for big dramatic 'I love you's and all that, but this would work just as well with a queer-platonic, or purely platonic, relationship between the two. In fact, I think even if they had exchanged 'I love you's before rapture, that still wouldn't answer this question.

The thing is, how much do they know about the depth of each other's feelings? Do they both know just how much the other wants to be with them? Does Adam know that Michael would burn the world if he asked? Does Michael know that Adam doesn't need him to kill for him, he needs him to LIVE for him? Does Adam know that the reason Michael didn't go back to Heaven is at least 90% him? Does Michael know that Adam isn't just keeping him around because it's convenient, but because he genuinely enjoys hanging out with him?

There is a lot of interpretation here on my part, but yeah, I think whatever configuration you put these two in (romantic/queer-platonic/whatever else), these two are just absolutely unhinged about each other. As in they cannot imagine a life without each other anymore. Adam just spent at least a thousand years with Michael alone. That's the equivalent of several human lifetimes! And for Michael, it's of course considerably less, but do you really think he has been this close with, this focused on anyone since Lucifer fell? Since his family broke apart, and he became a general above anything else? Do you think he isn't absolutely thrilled to have Adam, a guy who doesn't always agree with him but likes him anyway, a guy he is literally chilling in the same body with, as close as two people can conceivably be? You think he's not insane about that guy?

Anyway, this got off track, but I truly do believe that how the fix-it goes depends on whether they know this about each other. How secure they are about each other's feelings. Because I think if Adam knows how Michael feels about him, he's more likely to think along the lines of 'Michael was manipulated by his abusive dad and went back to him, man I wish I could have been there and helped him untangle his emotions, he must have been at rock bottom :(' and less likely something like 'Michael went back to his dad as soon as I was gone, guess he never cared about me at all'.

And I guess in the end it does come down to Adam, because while I can see Michael being insecure and not knowing if Adam will take him back, he would also jump immediately if Adam called for him in a prayer or anything like that. Meanwhile, if Adam is angry, I think Michael would withdraw pretty quickly, which Adam would take as confirmation that Michael never really cared much...

So, yeah. I guess what I'm trying to say is that it can go many ways, and to me it depends heavily on whether they (especially Adam, but also Michael) know how much the other cares for them.

[nanomooselet]

My Brother's Keeper (VII)

Knives, despite it all, I do indeed pity you. You horrible creature. More than you might imagine anyone would dare.

I said some time ago that Knives has agency and Vash doesn't, and that the Eye of Michael's dogma demands sacrifice.

One lives. One dies.

When Knives tells Vash to leave humanity, it's at that very instant Vash realises the truth: that this isn't about the Plants versus humans. It was never about that, ever, and trying to dissuade Knives from continuing his descent by arguing from that premise isn't ever actually going to work.

It's about how discovering Tesla broke them in two. It broke reality, cracked the singular unit they once believed themselves to be in half, and sent each half down forever-separate paths in both space and time.

Vash, through Rem, decided he could face the future. Even despite this discovery, how apathetically cruel the world is to the innocent, the future is always ours to shape as long as we live to choose. Rem showed him that through acknowledging and accepting responsibility for the pain of the past, even if once ignorant or complicit, one could learn and heal, and therefore work to be free of it. Not perfect. Never perfect. But still better.

Nai only saw potential pain. The fear of facing the world where it could be inflicted, and of those who'd done so, consumed him. He would erase both by returning to the past, the innocence and ignorance of having never learned the frightening truth. He'd thus build a paradise, an Eden, where no sin was committed and no sinner would set foot. He alone, in his own singular perfection, was fit both to assume this task and the power - and thus the right - to fulfil it.

Since when have we been so different?/Who are you? We've become so different I don't think I even know you anymore.

Vash begins to cry because he sees now that Nai… Nai is gone. Maybe he ran for too long, or maybe the Nai he thought he knew never existed. It doesn't matter anymore. There's nothing of his brother left to love in this monster before him, who's done everything that he's done and isn't sorry and wants to keep doing it by seizing control over Vash's own body. (Even though they look more like each other now than they have since they were kids, which still absolutely ruins me.) Vash grieves his brother, his brother's love and their togetherness in the past, but he finally knows for sure that they're gone, and he must define his own identity, and move beyond them.

His declaration that he'll always run isn't about running from humanity, anymore than Knives is truly fighting for the freedom of the Plants.

Seriously, Knives isn't fighting for the freedom of the Plants. He thinks he is, because he thinks that justifies controlling their bodies and consuming their power and benefiting from their suffering, but he's reversed cause and effect. He acts and so they suffer, but he believes their suffering is what motivates his actions and not his fear and his greed for the power to destroy whatever he fears. It's circular, and it's entirely self-centred.

It's the logic not of a liberator but of the entire system of oppression.

Knives's paradise, the home to which he's so desperate to return, no longer exists. It never will again. Not for him or for Vash or for the Plants. Knives himself broke it. Knives himself ripped it out of the heavens and plunged it into the earth, shattering it, so he could reshape the pieces into something that he alone controlled. Knives will always assume control, and he won't stop if you give what he says he wants, because he won't admit or even try to understand that it's not the truth.

He wants to stop being scared and alone. He wants his brother to need him and never leave him. He wants his mother, but she's gone. (He killed her. Over and over and over again he kills her and she's still always gone and he hates her for always being gone. Why is she gone? Why didn't she stay? He asked. He gave her a choice.)

(Yet in Vash's memories and in the people he loves, Rem's spirit lives on, and always will. She still loves him, her perfect boy, even still protects him, just as she promised she would. Did you guys know Vash's coat is bulletproof? Did you guys realise Vash literally still walks around kicking ass in the protective embrace of his mother? I actually had to take a minute, when I figured it out. It made me tear up.)

I was rejected?

Let me back in! Take me back.

Knives wants to go home. To be a child again with Vash by his side. Innocent, together, in paradise. But once you've grown up, you can never really go home again. It's a fundamentally selfish desire to want everything to go back to being the same forever - what it means is that because it was good or kind for you specifically, everyone else has to conform whether it was good and kind to them or not. There's always danger in nostalgia even when it's not misplaced. It encourages destructive nihilism, malicious and ignorant apathy. If the best can only ever be behind us, there is no reason to try to go on.

Vash is not nostalgic. Vash will run, and run, and keep running. For a lifetime if he has to - and a Plant's lifetime is a long one. It's not that he hasn't made a choice, but that he'd already made it long ago: to be free of Knives, to live and to fight for independence from his brother's abusive care, and to find a way to unite humans and Plants, the purpose he's been eager and happy to serve since the day he found it. Rem's dream is one he longs to fulfil, and he finally knows he has the power, intelligence, resilience, strength and above all, the right to take up that task.

He's just acknowledged and accepted that it's not also his purpose to help his stupid brother, not if this is all he gets in response. Dismissed, ignored, insulted, his grief and compassion mocked; abused, put down, smothered, injured, rendered permanently disabled, scarred, violated, traumatised. Forced into the shape that Knives imagines he should be in, pieces cut away until he fits the image in his brother's head.

It's very sad that after all that Knives has done to him, Vash doesn't value his own life and wellbeing enough to care for himself as much as he cares for everyone else in the world. But it still beats Knives trying to do it for him. He's so bad at it.

In the past, on occasions such as this, when Vash demonstrated like... the capacity to sort of almost disagree, Knives would yell at him suddenly and loudly enough that Vash would freeze up in terror, and then Knives would do whatever he wanted regardless. My man isn't good at hearing the word "no". If yelling or insults failed, he'd do something physically violent. I've seen a lot of takes on how funny and/or gay it is that Vash's reaction to Wolfwood grabbing his lapels and threatening to torture him to death is... this.

But understand that when Vash suggests an alternative that doesn't involve mass murder, his brother tends not to agree to it. Or stop at threats. Vash's arguments with Knives always make Vash sound a bit pathetic and dumb because Knives doesn't actually engage Vash - he shuts him down or insults him, telling him he's too weak and stupid to even speak. He has no respect at all for Vash's opinions, abilities, or as a person - honestly, I wouldn't treat an animal this way.

When someone finally respects your beliefs and abilities after they've been coldly or violently dismissed so many times, that's… how it feels.

Knives assumed that Vash had no powers so he was weak, and then when Vash did demonstrate powers, that Vash was weak because he was frightened of them. As usual, the trauma he's inflicted maybe being the problem never entered his mind; it's always Vash's fault. When Vash finally has both power and the will to assert control of it, he finally has the capacity and strength to enforce his refusal. And that leaves Knives finally exhausted of any means to break his will.

Except one. One final choice.

Vash is right: the plan has failed and this is over. Knives can never again have the power he desires, and what's more, Vash would rather be shot at for another hundred years than be together with his brother in paradise.

In spite of everything Knives has done to destroy it, the independent identity of Vash the Stampede yet survives. And so.

One lives.

One dies.

Nai is dead.

There's no turning back.

(The stars are falling down.)

And no one ever really goes home.

If you want to tell me Stampede is a poor quality adaptation, it's not funny and it's shallow and Vash is a loser now and there's no Milly and they're just exploiting the property and if it just hadn't been called Trigun maybe... maybe...

Maybe! You're entitled to an opinion. I'm open to the discussion. I do always try to assume good faith.

However, I'm still probably not going to agree.

And I'm done. Now I need to lie down on the floor and cry over my beautiful disaster twins. Thank you very much for reading! I encourage you to be as insane in the tags as you feel moved to be, because I crave validation.

(Extreme Lesbianism for Meryl Stryfe: Coming Soon.)

(Part I)

(Part II)

(Part III)

(Part IV)

(Part V)

(Part VI)

[incurablesimp]

It still kinda baffles me when I see people talking about how evil Aziraphale was for abandoning Crowley and leaving him all alone on Earth. Because did we watch the same show?

Aziraphale loves Crowley, it was not his wish for things to turn out this way. But Aziraphale also has always believed in good and has tried to do as much good as he could. That angel has always put others over his own happiness. If that wasn't the case he would've run to Alpha Centauri with Crowley in the 1st season right as Crowley mentioned it under that bandstand. But he didn't. Crowley was the one to suggest the idea of postponing the Armageddon, Aziraphale was the one who never gave up on that idea. He wasn't ready to just give up on trying to save people. He was also the one who tried to shoot Adam and the one who forced Crowley to do something even though Satan was on his way. Where Crowley felt like nothing could be done, Aziraphale knew there were options left.

So of course he decided to go and try to fix heaven. Aziraphale never gives up, he tries and tries to find solutions. He's going to try to make heaven truly good too, because that's what he does. He never gives up. He wanted Crowley to come with him as it would erase the conflict between them, the good old "you're a demon, I'm an angel". Because he saw it as an easy way to be together. And because he needs him. Crowley had every right to refuse and I still think he was in the right for refusing, absolutely. Which doesn't change the fact that Aziraphale was really excited for that idea and it broke his heart when Crowley said no.

Other thing is, Crowley was left alone on Earth being just as lonely as he used to be and actually even more because this time Aziraphale is not around. Not even to stop him from killing Job's children, not even to shield him from rain. But it's not like Aziraphale went to heaven to have a party with his good old friends.

Aziraphale was exactly as lonely as Crowley was. He avoided talking to Gabriel, Uriel, Michael and others. He wanted nothing else than to stay on Earth and talk to them as little as he could because he was afraid of them and he didn't think of them as of good angels. He's always preferred Crowley's presence over theirs. Which means he's preferred a literal demon over his fellow angels.

Which leaves him exactly as lonely as Crowley now that they're separated. They both have no one to turn to, no one to seek help from. Aziraphale can't just take his phone and call Crowley and vice versa. They both lost something precious to them. They lost each other. Aziraphale is exactly as abandoned as Crowley is. He did not just do it for fun, he sacrificed his and Crowley's happiness.

[blamemma]

miss blamemma, please could you detail what you think happened between michael and daniel for the rest of us that are obsessed with the drama?!

i truly wish i could just upload the voicenotes i've sent to the besties today about this because that would be SO much easier but ok here we go....

i don't think there is one cataclysmic event that led them to fall out, i think it's an amalgamation of a couple of things.

privacy and money; michael loves popularity, loves money, loves business, loves social media, montesises his drivers (he's doing that now with his reels of yuki as well). there has to come a point, for me, where that crosses the boundaries of your role as a trainer. as a trainer, you have to be there for your driver, your driver is your number one priority. if that driver no longer feels they can trust you, then you are not doing your job. michael going on multiple podcasts and dropping tidbits about daniel's life and training and difficulties here and there is not a good look, and i think of the most telling is that testosterone article. michael worked with daniel for the last 5 years so people are going to presume that it is about daniel and on the back of that i saw multiple articles that were headlined something along the fucked up lines of "daniel ricciardo's trainer reveals he broke sex ban with hot young girlfriend heidi berger" (here & here and there are definitely more examples!) and daniel is a relatively private guy about his relationship so having that blasted everywhere cause ur ex-trainer talked about male hormones?? and then yeah u have that podcast thing today....

i have no proof, but i truly believe that michael wanted daniel to take the haas or williams seat so that he (michael) could stay in f1 because again, being in this prestigious sports gets him followers and engagement = money. therefore, when daniel went to him for advice michael may not have been open and willing to daniel's idea of a sabbatical, because it didn't really mean employment for michael (to caveat here, not having job security is a very daunting thing, and i am not saying michael is wrong for worrying about this, however, michael is paid and contracted by daniel and i dont think daniel would have been paying him a cheap wage these past 5 years)

i think daniel has had the time to step away from mclaren, process what happened there, enter red bull again and see how they manage their drivers, move to alpha tauri and see how they manage and speak about their drivers and then truly assess and process the year that last year was. whether you believe michael was foundational in daniel's issues last year or not, he was in control of his diet and exercise regime and his general health and we can all clearly see that deteriorated over the mclaren period and it may be daniel has now stepped away, assessed, talked to some fellow drivers like max (who then stuck up for him in that press conference when michael was brought up, hence why i think he spoke to max about) and how they get on with their trainers and thought hmmmm michael wasn't like that

other factors include michael being very close and friendly with mclaren engineers and social media people (again, valid, you want to get on with the people you work with, but again, your priority should be daniel especially in a tumultuous team like that!) & michael constantly saying he wanted to bigger than daniel, even to the point he started training his neck so that he could say he had a bigger neck than daniel....weird behaviour when you're meant to be motivating ur driver, not ultimately trying to beat them when they're already down in the dumps???

this is genuinely all conjecture and theories and i have no evidence for any of the shit i am spouting here but i am just going on the info we have and the things we have seen and trying to connect dots....