#your ship is on the verge of falling apart

[blep-23]

I think Ussop has attachment issues.

[ceilidho]

fear of god

There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 12 masterlist

-

A false moon dictates the coming of night. 

You set up a cot in the medical unit again, going to your quarters to grab a spare set of sheets before returning, Gaz shadowing you the way there and back. His presence scratches at the back of your head, reminding you that he’s there at your back. You don’t ask him why he insists on keeping up this charade of monitoring your behaviour—his motives are as unclear to you as ever.  

“This isn’t necessary,” you finally manage to get out on the walk back to the medbay, the door within sight. 

“I know,” Gaz says simply. 

The door slides open and you enter with him still at your back. “Then why are you following me?”

“Those were Graves’ orders, weren’t they?”

“And you what? Follow his orders now?”

It’s difficult to determine who you actually feel betrayed by. Gaz owes you no debt—it wasn’t you that let him into the ship. The focus of your anger should be on Graves and the rest of the crew, but yet—

Your chest twinges when the door slides shut and Gaz leans against it, no different than a guard posted at the door. 

He shrugs, unbothered by the reproach in your voice. “He’s the commander.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s right.”

“Maybe not.”

“I had nothing to do with Hadir getting sick.”

“I know that.” Your chest deflates when you can’t detect any insincerity behind his words. “But Graves is in charge of the ship and unless you think you could get the others to agree with you, isn’t it better to toe the line for now?”

It would upset you if it were any less true. The hierarchical arrangement of personnel on board has always been clear, and it’s not lost on you that you’ve always hovered near the bottom, falling further from grace with every passing day. Who apart from Gaz and Hadir have been sympathetic towards you in recent weeks anyway? Nikolai’s friendship is an extension of his disposition, an affection easily given and easily taken away. Farah barely even regards you as trustworthy these days, convinced that you’re teetering on the edge of losing your mind.

She might not be wrong. 

Gaz watches you make the bed, settling into your office chair, a mite more comfortable than the stool by the counter. 

“Do you want me to set up a cot for you?” you ask begrudgingly. 

He shakes his head. “Don’t need one.”

“You can sleep comfortably sitting up like that?” 

His smile verges on patronizing. “I don’t need to sleep, love.”

Your skin crawls. You hate when he does that—when he lets you in on your shared secret, the knowledge that he isn’t as human as he appears. Whatever he is still eludes you. Alien or divine. There’s no point in asking though. That knowledge sits beyond your purview. 

You ignore him to the best of your abilities and finish setting up your cot, his words still ringing in your ears. 

Things take a turn for the worse when Hadir stops responding altogether. 

Though his verbal responses have become less and less frequent over the last couple days, the dropoff is significant. As your only patient though, you’ve been monitoring him closely since he was admitted, and you pick up on the change quickly. It’s like an itch under your skin, a sixth sense from working with sick patients for the better part of your adult years. 

Gaz picks up on the change in your mood, sitting up straighter. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you respond through stiff lips. “Something changed.”

The base of your spine tingles when the vital signs monitor suddenly beeps, alerting you to a change in Hadir’s condition.

You flip a switch and press a button on the keyboard, speaking directly to the Ship’s AI. “Ship, what’s the patient’s status?” 

Patient's temperature is unusually elevated

Recommendation to increase fluids and decrease external temperature 

You lift his eyelids and find his pupils irregular, one larger than the other, and they don’t respond properly when you shine a light on them. 

“What can I do?” Gaz asks, as serious as you’ve ever seen him.

“We need to cool him down. His fever is spiking. I’ll get the cooling blanket—there are ice packs in the freezer over there—” You point to a refrigerator on the other side of the room. “—get the ice packs and start packing them around his armpits and groin. We need to get his temperature down while I figure out what the fuck is happening.”

Gaz moves quickly, retrieving the ice packs from the freezer and packing them up against Hadir’s pits and in between his legs under the medical gown. Hadir’s lips flutter reflexively at the cold but that’s as much responsiveness as you get out of him. 

You press the button to speak to the AI again. “Ship, is his temperature coming down?”

Negative

Patient temperature currently: 104°

Even his breathing has changed, his breaths similarly irregular and increasingly shallower. You put in the orders for another CT scan, moving quicker and typing faster than you ever have before. The breathing tube gets put in next to secure his airway and you don’t like the way his gag reflex doesn’t kick in when the tube is shoved down his throat. It signals something dangerous. 

The situation before you doesn’t bode well. Dread clings to the wall in the far corner of the room but you ignore its presence to focus on your work, throwing everything at the walls to see what sticks. 

His labs are all over the place. High fever, low platelets, high D-dimer, high FDPs. An hour passes in a blink with you running test after test to no avail—none of his results that come back make any sense—all while his temperature continues to rise. 

Patient temperature currently: 105°

Plastic backliners flutter to the floor when you rip them off the electrodes, pasting the small metal discs around Hadir’s scalp for the EEG, working as quickly and efficiently as possible. 

“Has his temperature come down yet?” you bark, too preoccupied with your work to chance a glance up at the monitor.

“No,” Gaz says curtly. “Still 105°.”

It’s all happening so quickly that you can’t seem to get your bearings. If it were anyone else on the table, you’d at least have Hadir to assist you; you’re on your own now though, Gaz barely any help to you without any real medical knowledge. 

Your heart pounds against your chest when you notice blood coming up Hadir’s ET tube. A few droplets at first, and then a trickle. 

A horrible, prophetic knowledge falls over you, threatening to collapse you. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Gaz asks.

“I don’t know—” Then his nose starts to bleed and your heart stops. The stain on the front of his gown and what you find underneath it when you lift it up confirms your worst suspicions. “He’s going into DIC—”

“DIC?”

“His blood—”

The AI takes that moment to interject, speaking over you: Patient body has used up all of its clotting factors and will begin to bleed out

Sepsis—a severe infection—an autoimmune response—trauma—cancer—so many different possible answers to explain why Hadir would spontaneously go into disseminated intravascular coagulation, but his labs tell you shit. Nothing makes sense. You can’t explain why he might be hemorrhaging because there isn’t anything in his scans or labs to indicate anything wrong with him.

More blood leaks from his face and nethers, staining the light blue of the bed a dark red. Logical objections halt in the face of the tangible, and blood is tangible. Blood is all you see. 

The final moments are harried, frenzied. You bark orders at Gaz, which he follows militarily, and struggle in vain to keep Hadir’s condition from further deteriorating, but it’s nearly impossible without being able to address the root cause. Transfusions of platelets, fresh frozen plasma, and cryoprecipitate only go so far. 

When his brain activity goes flat on the monitor, your mind goes blank. Static noise fills your head. You slump against the wall, staring at Hadir’s bleeding body on the exam table, still leaking blood from all of his orifices, the sound of the monitor blaring like a siren in your ears. 

“He’s dead,” Gaz says blandly, staring at the body nonplussed. 

“Yeah,” you rasp. Your voice is thick in your throat, devastated. 

There’s blood all over the bed, more in one place than you’ve seen in a long time—not since working in trauma units back on Earth. Every inch of your body aches as the adrenaline recedes, having reached its peak in the throes of Hadir’s final moments, jaw so tight you almost can’t unclench it.

“What happened?” he asks, almost quizzically. 

The curious lack of emotion in his voice doesn’t penetrate through the brain fog. “I don’t know—he just…” 

The weight of all that just happened comes over you swiftly. An hour ago, Hadir was fine for all intents and purposes. Stable. Now, blood stains his chin, the underside of his nose, the front of his gown, and the bed underneath him, the sweat caked on his forehead cooling as the life leaches out of his body. 

Your hands shake by your sides, a violent tremble rolling through you. 

“I don’t get it,” you whisper. 

You should’ve quarantined Hadir from the start, from the very second he was admitted into your care. You should’ve ignored the fact that his labs came back fine that first day and just assumed that the nature of his illness was more severe than it appeared. Shame and dread plunge like a dagger through your midsection.

Protocol should’ve dictated that you initiate a quarantine, but since you didn’t—

You stare at the body on the table, the ET tube streaked with blood.

—your duty now is to ensure that no one else gets sick too. 

You’ll need to seal off the medbay until every surface has been properly decontaminated and then quarantine yourself until you’re sure that you aren’t infected as well. Your eyes flick towards Gaz momentarily before you shoot down the thought of testing him as well. 

Mitigate the transmission. That thought sticks out amongst the rest. The body lying on the bed in the middle of the room is no longer a patient that needs tending to but rather hazardous material that needs to be disposed of lest whatever infected it is transmitted to everyone else on board the ship. 

It’s waste. Filth. And it will contaminate everything on board if you don’t remove it. 

Your body moves on autopilot. You wheel the bed to the ejection chute at the back of the medbay. It takes a series of codes in order to open the door to the chute and you key them in quickly and efficiently. When the door slides open, you raise the bed until it’s slightly higher than the chute, tipping the bed forward in order for the body to slide into it. 

Ejection chute engaged

Hadir’s body disappears into the chute, the reinforced metal and glass sliding shut when the sensors register that the chute door is empty. There’s a thunk from behind the wall as his body is shuttled through the pneumatic tubes towards the back of the ship, and it won’t be more than a minute before the body is projected from the ship entirely. 

Your heart skips a beat when the AI pings awake again.

Object ejected 

“I wouldn't have done that if I were you,” Gaz says, and you flinch at the sound of his voice, momentarily forgetting that someone else is in the room with you. 

Your eyes drift over to him, the room murky for a moment, the air hazy like water, like you’re looking through a film and only just starting to settle back down into your body after watching from overhead. He seems bigger somehow.

“We have to quarantine ourselves,” you say, frantically towards one of the cupboards and ripping it open, pulling out rolls of plastic to plaster over the door. “We didn’t put on any PPE, so we might’ve been exposed to whatever Hadir had.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.”

His lips are turned up at the corners when you look over, frowning, but noise in the hallway keeps you from following up on his remark. 

The announcement over the intercom must have alerted the others, and you hear footsteps from down the hall seconds before they arrive, boots clanking against the metal flooring. When the door slides open and you see Farah standing there with Alex at her back, her face hauntingly vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before, words fail you. 

“What happened?” Farah asks. 

“I don’t know. He was fine just a second ago and then—”

“Where is he?” she demands, scanning the room for him. “Where’s Hadir?”

“I—” The words get tangled up in your throat, terror and shame making it hard enough to breathe, never mind speak. 

Graves barrels in a second later, flushed and out of breath. He must have been in the cockpit when the intercom alerted him to the ejection chute being utilized. Nikolai is fast on his heels, less winded but just as concerned. 

You realize that from the direction Nikolai came, he must’ve been at the back of the spacecraft, and you morbidly wonder if he heard the sound of Hadir’s body ferrying through the pneumatic tube system.

“Doctor, what did you just throw out of the chute?” Graves asks, his tone hard and uncompromising, softened only by the breathless note in his voice from running halfway across the ship. 

You don’t answer.

His eyes lift to the space over your shoulder, where the patient bed is flush to the wall, the head level with the chute leading out of the ship. Blood still saturates the mattress. 

You watch as the knowledge of what you’ve done dawns on them, realization morphing into distress and horror. From behind Farah, Alex goes ashen, a hand clamping down on her shoulder to hold her in place before she realizes what you’ve done and the inevitable happens. You see it play out in your head like a movie. 

“Farah—” he starts, but any effort to steer her out of the room is thwarted by how quickly she comes to the same conclusion. 

“Where’s my brother?” Farah screams, and you wince, your head aching like there’s something else in there listening to her scream too. 

Alex has to hold her back from lunging at you, fighting to keep her in his arms, her body thrashing wildly. You’ve never seen her like this before. Grief and rage strip her of stoicism, and when her screams turn to tears, it rips a hole right through you. 

“You ejected Hadir from the ship?” Graves breathes, stunned. 

Nikolai just stares, at a loss for words. You’ve never seen any of them so obviously affected, so contrary to the image of them that you’ve carried with you in your mind for months. 

“I had to!” you shout, vocal cords tearing under the strain. “We couldn’t keep his body on board! What if it was some hemorrhagic fever—like ebola? Or worse?”

“You don’t even know what killed—” Graves roars before stopping abruptly, squeezing his eyes shut. He presses his fist to his mouth, the skin around his knuckles bone white. 

“We need to quarantine.” Your fingers tremble when you press them to your temples, flinching when you realize that your gloves are still covered in blood. “I was going to seal off the room to keep it from spreading, but now that you’re all here, we’re probably all been infected—”

“Infected by what?” 

“I don’t know.” 

A shade is falling over you. Everything feels raw, livid—a wound being prodded. The light hurts your eyes when you lift them from the floor to meet Graves’ gaze. Even the air feels caustic against your skin. 

Even your impulses don’t feel like your own, like there is some

insidious rot

fruiting under your skin.

“Are you going to say anything to them?” you finally snap at Gaz, desperation loosening your tongue. “You were here—you saw what happened. Why aren’t you telling them what happened?”

The others turn to look at him, orienting like sunflowers towards the sun. It’s the only comparison that comes to mind. And at the centre of them, Gaz stares back at you, an ersatz approximation of confusion. 

He gives a slow blink, eyes glinting with something unknown. “Tell them what? That you tossed Hadir out into space?” 

You should’ve expected that you’d be left hanging, but the reality of it is unbearable. Humiliating. 

You know what you look like to them: dangerous, erratic. Your paranoia on full display. Even Nikolai’s mouth is set in a grim line.

You can hear the accusations flying through their minds—that you caused this somehow. Overdosed him on anti-clotting medication and let him bleed out, then disposed of the body before a proper autopsy could be performed. That maybe you prolonged his illness, knowing it would lead to this.  

It happens swiftly and without word, as if planned ahead of time. Nikolai and Graves lunge towards you suddenly, grabbing you by the undersides of your arms and nearly lifting you off your feet when they haul you forcibly out of the room. Alex still has Farah trapped in his arms in the corner of the room when they drag you past her. 

“Farah, I’m sorry—I’m sorry—” 

You’re not strong enough to break free of Graves’ and Nikolai’s hold though, so you’re carried off before Farah can say anything. There’s only a split second for your eyes to lock and for you to see something broken beyond recognition there, and then the door cuts you off from her.

“You’re all fucking insane—let me go—” you scream, spittle flying from your mouth. The scream that tears out of you is so animalistic and loud that your throat squeezes up in protest, a cough forcing its way out. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Down the hall and towards the back of the ship. Boots echo against the metal floors, the two men on either side of you in sync with each other. Neither says a word nor responds to your screams. Their patience with your increasingly unhinged behaviour has finally crossed a threshold once thought impossible, your reputation alone no longer enough to save you. 

They all but throw you into the brig, the metal door clanging shut behind you when you’re dropped to your hands and knees, peering over your shoulder to find Nikolai punching in the key to lock and arm the door, a wretched, pained look on his face.

“Nikolai, please—” you beg, crawling to the door and curling your hands around the bar. “It wasn’t my fault—I didn’t kill Hadir. I’m sorry! He could’ve made everyone on board sick if we’d kept the body! Please, Nikolai, please—”

Your pleas fall on deaf ears. The last sound you hear is the brig door slamming shut and then their footsteps gradually recede into the distance.

[ailoda]

updated: 09.03.25

ᯓ★ angst

When It All Falls Apart (❅): the fate of the universe was in your hands. Bucky and you had been sent to retrieve the soul stone, a seemingly simple task. Unbeknownst to you, there was a hefty price to pay for such an exchange. You’re able to return to Earth, but it’s soon apparent part of you was left in Vormir. - avenger!reader (@bucky-bucket-barnes)

The Same Thing (❤✧): during a mission, you put yourself in harm’s way to protect bucky. back at the avengers compound, he wants to know why. (@appocalipse)

I Don't Care (❅): following the events of Endgame and your death, Bucky gets fatally injured during a mission. Things don’t look too good, but is that really a bad thing? (@delusionalwriterr)

Can I Be Him? (❤❅): when Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him. (@literaryavenger)

Obsessed (❤✧): your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control. (@literaryavenger)

Consequences (❤✧): Bucky is a bartender and he has a favourite patron. (@duuhrayliegh)

I Will Always Come When You Call (❤❅): when reader accidentally calls Bucky, he comes running to find out what’s wrong. (@eat-limes-bitches) (warning: mentions of depression)

Bullet (❅): before he could comprehend what was really happening, he noticed the red liquid dripping through her fingers. Shock transformed into horror as they both realized that blood was literally flowing out of her body. Nobody needed to be a doctor to know the bullet had most likely struck through a major artery and that she would be dead in a matter of minutes. (@leascorner)

Timing (❅✧): Bucky and Steve bump into a very familiar woman. (@writtenfangirl)

Crawl Home To Her (❅✧): stranded without coms, alone, and bleeding out in the middle of a Russian snow storm, Bucky is content to let nature take its course. Only you won’t seem to let him go. (@wkemeup)

Sweetener (❤✧): when the vacation that you've been planning for months gets canceled due to a last minute mission, you can't help but feel bummed - the bright side is that you're being sent on a mission with Bucky. (@flowersforbucky)

Devil's Backbone (❤❅): when you fall in love with Bucky Barnes, you start hunting down anyone who has ever wronged him. What happens when he finds out? (@aquaticmercy)

Man Of The House (✘✧): without each other, Bucky and you wouldn’t know how to be. (@buckysfaveplum)

Red Light, Green Light (❅✘): sex with Bucky is better than you’d ever experienced, but he has a habit that draws your attention. (@bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky)

The Sun (❅): after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back? (@yourmidnightlover)

Five Years That Felt Like a Millenium (❅✧): it’s been five years since Thanos snapped his fingers. Five years spent all alone. Now Sam is back and he has a new friend. Will Bucky be the one to uncover the secrets behind the bruises lining her body? (@rosepetalsinwinter) (warning: illusions and mention of violence, abuse, manipulation, and cheating - nothing explicit)

He Hates Me, Doesn't He? (❅✧): you hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you. (@winterarmyy)

Numb (❤❅): you’re on the verge of hypothermia, when Bucky comes up with a way to save your life. (@samthemarvelfan)

In Losing Grip, On Sinking Ships (you showed up just in time) (❅✧): when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere. (@mellowsaturns) (warning: trauma, mentions of kidnapping)

Moth To A Flame (❅✘✧): Bucky is triggered into the winter soldier during a mission and then goes MIA, until he seeks you out in the middle of the night. (@flowersforbucky) (warning: potential dub-con)

new! The Ropes That Bind Me (❤❅✧): being a creature of the sea, you are bound to a life beyond the surface, always in sight of the human realm, yet forever out of grasp. But after centuries of this finned existence it’s a fisherman coming to the docks day after day that compels you to bridge the gap between your worlds, despite the warnings about humanity being ingrained into your kind your whole life. Will you meet the same tragic end as several of your sisters before? (@marvelstoriesepic)

new! Like He Means It (❅✧): you can’t take another night of hearing Bucky fuck a girl who isn’t you. (@marvelstoriesepic)

new! At Your Call (❅✧): no matter when or where, Bucky will always be there at your call. (@elixirfromthestars)

new! Scruitiny (❅): your husband decides that he wants to run for congress, but he won't do it without you. (@sacredsorceress)

new! Out of Depth, Into You (❅✘✧): Bucky Barnes was supposed to get in and out. Simple. Clean. But Hydra had other plans. An ambush leaves him broken, bleeding, and barely standing—and you’re the only thing keeping him upright. Trapped in a safehouse, patching him up with shaking hands, you realize the truth you’ve been avoiding: you almost lost him. And that scares you more than anything. Because Bucky isn’t just your mission partner. He’s yours. And maybe… just maybe, he’s known it all along. (@thebarneschronicles) (warning: PTSD/trauma symptoms)

new! Shower Suds (❅✧): you give Soldat his first bath out of captivity. (@mournthebird) (warning: mentions of scars and injuries, self-harm mention, post!HTP and abuse, PTSD symptoms & behavior)

[storywriter007]

You'll Remember Me - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

summary: in which y/n suffers the consequences of her and percy's tragic tale

warnings: cursing, heartbreak, character death, betrayal

genre: angst

word count: 869

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

as y/n killed the monster, she felt herself get cut on the gut. she fell backwards and placed her hand on her stomach. she stood up shakily, lifting her sword. they were in the middle of a battle, she couldn't die now. she tried to swing, but her attempts were weak. she tried to walk, but her feet dragged. she fell to her knees, clutching her stomach. she looked at the cut that had grazed her abdomen, and realized it wasn't from any blade, it was from a poisonous spike on the monster. she'd been poisoned. she desperately searched the perimeter for someone who could help.

she saw her best friend, swinging rapidly and summoning hurricanes.

"percy!" she yelled.

he looked over, concern washing over his face, but he made no attempt to come her way. annabeth ran up and grabbed his arm.

"percy, this place is falling apart! we need to leave, now!" she yelled.

pieces of the ceiling began to fall as flames erupted. percy stayed in his spot. annabeth said something to him. y/n couldn't figure out what it was, but his gaze softened as he nodded his head. the two of them ran towards the exit. y/n laid on her side as the temperature rose. exhaustion took her over.

he had left her. her best friend, for six years, had left her to die. where was his loyalty now, when she needed it?

but y/n understood he had shown his loyalty. just not to her, to his girlfriend. to annabeth. and now she'd die, because his loyalty was her betrayal.

y/n felt blood spew out of her mouth. she was going out the way she had always wanted to, guns blazing in the middle of a fight that made a difference. it wasn't an unsatisfactory death. suddenly, y/n heard a voice.

"y/n!" the familiar voice called out. "don't give up on me!"

somebody desperately tried to drag her out of the burning building. she felt the concrete graze against her skin as the weak force tried to save her. he pulled her out and laid her in front of the broken building. she was barely alive.

"she doesn't have much time left!" he panicked. "c'mon y/n, just give me five minutes, we're going to get you to the ship and everthing's going to be okay!"

she knew the voice. she knew who it was. it was the boy she'd befriended when he was young. she'd practically been his sister. she knew it was nico di'angelo. he had come back for her. she felt another person kneel down by her. she could she his raven black hair and his sea green eyes.

"what the fuck percy!" nico yelled. "how could you do this! it was just the three of you!"

"i had no choice nico!" he defended.

"liar!" he screamed. "you told me the same thing when my sister died! and, now, now, i'm going to lose the only person who has ever cared about me because of you!"

y/n could tell nico was on the verge of tears.

"please, y/n, don't leave me now." percy pleaded.

"i've loved you a long time, percy. ever since you and i went on our first quest when we were eleven." she said, using her remaining energy to give a confession she should've given a long time ago. "it broke me to see you with annabeth. it still does."

"y/n.."

"you'll live a long time, percy. years without me." she continued. "you'll find camp half-blood strangely void, because when you come to find me, i won't be there."

he looked at her with tears in his sea green eyes. oh, those beautiful eyes.

"you'll remember me. when you see the stars, when you look at our photos, when you see friendship bracelets, when you talk to your mother and she'll ask, 'why don't we go visit y/n? she's only a block away.' always, your heart will be yearning for me." she paused. "and your mind will give you the unconvincing comfort that you had no choice." she spat, bitterly.

he kneeled besides her, speechless.

"nico." she said, lifting her hand up to hold his. she felt weak. "i'm sorry you have to see me like this."

tears fell from his eyes.

"but, i want you to know that i believe in you. i have faith in you. i always have, and i always will." she paused, knowing these were her last words. "you are a hero."

she felt her eyes shut.

"y/n!" nico shook her. "y/n!"

she didn't awake, she felt herself drifting.

"you destroy everything that matters to me!" nico screamed at percy. "you're a fucking monster!"

she felt at peace. she felt as if she was above the cruel world of unfair gods and tortured children.

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

percy sat next to annabeth in his home. the war was over. the demi-gods had won. but at what cost?

"percy." sally called.

"yeah?" he responded.

"why don't we go visit y/n? she's only a block away." sally asked, placing cookies in a box for the first real friend her son had ever made.

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

hope you guys liked it :) just had to remind you guys that i am an angst writer

yes i did reference dangerously yours

[billiethepumpkin]

Ships in the Night: Tamaki Amajiki

Kinktober Day 3

Warnings: Rated X. This content is intended to be viewed by those aged 18 years or older. If you are a minor, please do not interact.

Contains: Dominant reader. Male masturbation. Voyeurism. Handjob. Male orgasm. Overstimulation. Dacryphilia (crying). Begging.

Author's Note: All characters are written to be aged 18 years or older because I am an old fuck. :)

It had been days since you had even seen each other. 

Suneater was an up and coming hero, and he was on call practically 24/7. He was exhausted by the time he got done with his patrol shifts, and he was often called away in the middle of the night to handle villains. You, on the other hand, were going strong in your own career, and you were just as busy as him. You both worked an insane amount of hours, and you rarely ever had time to spend on yourselves, let alone each other. Even though you lived together, you were like ships passing in the night. 

Amajiki had been exhausted at work. He was out of it, barely able to hold it together as he walked down the street. So now here he was, walking into his apartment earlier than usual because someone had noticed just how tired he was. He practically fell into bed after tugging his shirt over his head and changing into his pajama pants. He had every intention of going to sleep right then and there. 

But then he rolled over. He caught the scent of you on your pillow, the smell of your shampoo tingling his nose. You, his wonderful partner, the one he hadn’t even seen in a week. Even the scent of you brought so many sensations to his body and mind, and his arousal twitched to life. Tamaki tried to ignore it. He tried to just roll back over and go to sleep. But now, you were heavy on his mind, and he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your scent. Your touch. Your kiss. You flooded every corner of his mind, and he couldn’t help but grind against nothing but his pajama pants. 

He gave in to his own needs, and he picked up his phone to find something to watch. Just something to take the edge off, just something to help him feel better until you could get your hands on each other. That would be enough.

Amajiki started to stroke himself. Up and down, faster and faster as he continued on and on. His breathing got heavier, and he could feel himself on the verge of falling over the edge into sweet orgasm. But he just couldn’t. There was something missing. 

And then it walked through the door. 

The bedroom door opened, and Tamaki started to panic. What were you doing home this early? You weren’t usually home for several hours. He had such an urge to escape this situation, somehow. But there was no escape. There was no way out. He just sat there, face glowing bright red and stammering, “Um–, uhh–” over and over. 

In your view, you saw him sitting up against the headboard, looking up at you with warm cheeks, his dick hard in one hand and his phone in the other. You just sighed and smirked, your own cheeks warm now, too. He was so cute, so handsome, the way he looked up at you so innocently. You couldn’t help yourself now. You sat down in your spot on the bed. “Shh,” you hushed, brushing a hair out of his face. “It’s okay, baby,” you whispered, pulling Tamaki onto your lap. You looked up at him, stripped and twitching with excitement. You grabbed his thighs, kneading the muscled flesh that was there. With one hand, you traced gentle lines along his thighs. With the other, you held his face. You began to gently kiss all over Amajiki’s face, over his neck and his chest. “You’re so good, sweet boy,” you cooed. He whimpered a little, both at the nickname and at your touch. “I know, baby,” you said between kisses. “I know you’re so frustrated. Why don’t I help you out, hm?” 

He nodded frantically. “Yes please.”

You smiled up at him. “That’s my good boy,” you said, kissing his lips gently, but still deeply. The kiss lingered, as it lit up your body for both of you. He was desperate for your touch, and Amajiki was squirming on your lap, subconsciously trying to entice you to touch him sooner. You laughed quietly into the kiss, and you wrapped your hand around his length, now throbbing with desire, his arousal leaking from the tip of his cock. 

You could feel yourself twitching, too, wanting desperately for him to feel good for you.

You stroked once. “Good, baby,” you cooed up at him. “You’re doing such a good job for me.” You stroked again, and then a third time, and he whined above you as his cum dribbled from his cock and over your fingers. Amajiki whined loudly, and he squirmed as he made his pleasure known. “Oh, honey,” you whispered. “You were so pent up, huh? You needed that, didn’t you?”

Amajiki nodded again. “Mhm,” he hummed, still squirming and breathing heavily. You saw the blush creep from his cheeks to his ears. He didn’t want it to be over so soon, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to keep going, especially with how sensitive your touch always made him. 

You continued to stroke him, Tamaki’s cum dribbling from your fingers. He moaned and whimpered, so much more sensitive now than when he started. “Do you think you can cum again, Tama?” you asked, your free hand caressing his face. 

Tamaki nodded furiously, and you smirked to yourself. You started to stroke again, more gently this time, and he whimpered above you. You were so fascinated by him, unable to take your eyes off of his face. Suneater, the fierce hero, falling apart for you at every turn. You were fascinated by him, by all the sweet noises he made as you stroked time and time again. 

It was so much. He was so sensitive, and the feeling of your hand around him was so intense. And somehow he just needed more, more, more than he thought he could handle. He grabbed your hand and held it tightly, his grip fervent, but wavering as Tamaki’s pleasure washed over his body. He leaned forward and kissed you, and you could feel his breath heavy on your face. 

When he pulled away, you saw the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. And now Amajiki was embarrassed for an entirely different reason. You were pressed up against him, kissing him so sweetly, making him feel so good, and here he was crying? He wanted to scold his own body for betraying him like this. But it was just so much. He couldn’t describe it any other way. He just felt everything in every corner of his body, and he loved it, but it was just way too much. 

“Hey,” you cooed up at him, stopping your stroking for a minute and stroking his hair. “Do you need me to stop?”

“No!” he answered, just as frantically as he had been before. “No, please. Please touch me more!” His hips squirmed on your lap, and you quickly recognized that he was trying to thrust in your hand. 

You smiled again. “Okay, honey,” you said with your smile plastered across your face. You started to stroke again, and Amajiki sighed at your pleasure. He quickly wiped the tears from his face. 

“Please,” you heard him whisper, “please, please, please.”

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you cooed at him. “Your cock feels so good in my hand. You’re making such pretty noises for me.” You caressed his thighs and hips, and he rested his forehead against yours. Truthfully, he meant to lean in and kiss you, but everything was so intense in that moment that his mind went blank. “I want you to cum for me, baby,” you pleaded. “I want you to feel so good for me. You’re such a good boy for me.”

And just like that, his cock was leaking around your hand again, his white semen covering your fingertips as Tamaki whined and whimpered and squirmed. “Good job, baby,” you whispered, mere centimeters from his face. It was then that his lips finally crashed into yours. 

As Tamaki came down from his orgasm, you leaned to find his shirt discarded on the floor next to the bed. You wiped his cum off of your hand, and you pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. “I miss you,” he confessed, his head now resting on your shoulder. Your fingers ghosted over the skin on his back, and his chest rose and fell heavily. “What are you doing at home?” he said, not picking his head up. 

“I got out of work early,” you said. “I wanted to surprise you.” You wrapped your arms around his waist and locked your fingers behind his back. 

“Mm,” he hummed, nodding his head. His body became heavy on top of yours. “‘M tired,” he confessed. 

You sighed a laugh, and you said, “I can tell.” You kissed his shoulder, then up his neck, and then his cheek. “Why don’t we take a nap?” you suggested. 

Tamaki sighed and nodded, and he allowed himself to fall off your lap and onto his side of the bed. 

You fell asleep with your arms wrapped around his waist, holding him as closely as you possibly could.

It was the best sleep Tamaki had gotten all week.

This work was written by Abigail "Billie" Rothenberger. Please do not copy this work on Tumblr or any other platform.

[karinadele]

Budget Walmart Medic

Ratchet x reader

ch7.

Prev (AO3)

Tumblr

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of incorrect medical procedures, Character on the verge of death, Bad writing, Drugs, Mentions of suicidal ideation, PTSD, its 4am and im not proofreading or reformatting, saving that for when i post on ao3

“Fuck this shit.” You utter to yourself as you slam the door of your apartment closed. Sliding your back down the door to fall to the ground as you clutch your hair. Is it really too much to ask people to respect your decisions? Besides, it was just a metaphor for what you were feeling. Everyone says ‘Oh I’m gonna fucking kill myself!’ but most don’t mean it. Are all Cybertronians this stubborn? Sighing as you push yourself off the door and tossing your keys to the kitchen counter. Fine, sure, you’re a little suicidal, but just passively. It’s been years since you’ve visited grippy sock jail anyways.

But you’re just so mad. Respect is always something to be valued. You didn’t choose to be in this world, and you’d be damned if others don’t respect the choices you do. Even if it means death. Slamming your head against the fridge as you reach to the cupboard and grab a pill bottle. You haven’t been this pissed since your ex. The little white bar with the letters XANAX engraved twirls in your finger before you decide to pop it down. Not even bothering with a glass of water as you just dip your head into the sink and drink it straight from the tap.

Why are you so pissed? It’s just a passing comment that you’ve heard a million times before, yet something boils in you. Is it because your past few days have been nothing but chaos? Have you even had a chance to take a breather and process it? –And no, a cigarette break does not count.

No. There’s something more to it. Is it because Ratchet said it?

Giving up, you decide to end this shit before it gets even more complicated. Classic too scared and scarred to be involved in anything, so you cut off everyone before anything happens. But in this situation, it’s completely acceptable. Alien robots telling you want to do?! If you weren’t being locked up for trying to hurt yourself, you’d be locked up for psychosis at this rate.

One more all-nighter. You tell yourself. Contact Raf and ship the damn guy off and be done with your problems. Poor Raf. Being such a young age and already wrapped in otherworldly business. Either he has a will of steel or just doesn’t know any better. Or maybe it’s not actually that bad. Refusing to entertain that thought, you slide your computer chair back and flop into it.

A child wouldn’t be awake at this time anyways. Typing away as you let your thoughts wander. He’s on the run too right? You feel a pang in your chest as you realize a child can’t even enjoy a good night’s sleep. Probably with that sleek muscle car napping in the back. How you wish you could offer him a hug and a good night’s rest.

Wait.

So why don’t you?

You’re not affiliated with any governments, the Decepticons don’t know you, and you have a spare bed. Besides, you were already on your way to contact him.

Hastily typing out a message as you feel the effects of the Xanax kicking in. Another day saved by drugs. Lord have mercy you probably need rehab after all this. Locating Raf’s number wasn’t that hard, everyone has a social media account these days. Even kids. The real kicker is getting it through without detection. Opening up Scapy as you slog away encrypting each packet.

By the time you’ve hit send, It was already dawn. Another successful all nighter. You take a moment to lean back and relax, knowing it’s now done. Sluggishly dragging yourself over to the fridge as you nibble on a block of cheese –hey protein right? And flop back into your chair, pulling up your music to relax.

You were so engrossed in your music and just catching up with your breath that you didn’t even notice there was a little figure outside your window. Being on the ground floor meant not only bugs, but apparently also creeps.

What the fuck.

Carefully, you pulled back the curtains. If it was any other day, you would have ran into the bathroom and locked yourself up. But viva la drugs! What you find… Is Raf. Along with the black muscle car fully transformed standing on the lawn. Your landlord is gonna be pissed. She spends hours planting those flowers and now..? Yikes.

Hurriedly, you grab your keys and head on out to meet Raf. They sure got here quick? How even? Has it been that long since you sent the message, or can that car just drive insane speeds? Under the dark, you don’t notice much, but the moment you let Raf in, –and told the autobot to lay low and get off the lawn, you realized a surprising problem. Raf is hurt. Barely holding it together.

Scrambling as you pick him up and lay him on your bed, you check for his vitals, the ABCs. Airway seems to be intact, breathing is there, if a little bit shallow. And circulation.. well you don't know. but he’s bleeding with wounds everywhere and you feel your blood boiling. He’s only 10! (he’s 12) how can anyone do this to a child?! You wanted to offer him solace and a good night of rest, not like this!

Flying out your door once you made sure Raf is breathing, as you head to his car companion to find some answers. Only to be replies with bleeps and bloops. Great. An autistic boy with an autistic car. And Raf is in no shape to translate, so the next best is… ah shit. Ratchet. The same one that’s got you all stressed out. Shoving your emotions aside for the nth time of the day, as a life is more important, adrenaline pumping through you, you bolt downstairs into the garage.

“RATCHET! WE HAVE A PROBLEM!” You yell out at him, huffing and panting from running.

Ratchet, still in his little world, under stasis, does not budge. You don’t have time for this! For fuck’s sake! Not another near death’s door! Completely pumped on adrenaline, you smack him, kicking his wheels, banging on his windows and eventually climbing into his hood to smack the windshield. Gosh you wish you brought a crowbar.

Just as you were about to pick his lock and just drive him out, when the medic stirs.

“WHAT IN PRIMUS’ NAME ARE YOU DOING?!” He shouts back. Clearly not liking being forcibly woken from stasis, or appreciating some human crawling all over him causing damage to him.

“We have a situation, Ratchet.” You try to explain to him as calmly as you can. But underneath that, there’s a tinge of stress and panic. “Raf’s not doing good. He’s here.”

For the second time of the night, Ratchet nearly forgot he’s underground and smacks the ceiling trying to transform. Pieces of concrete fall down between the two of you.

“IS HE INJURED??” Optics widened, half transformed, half kneeling down. Raf. He’s been through so much. Dark Energon, and now this! FRAG! And he can’t even contact June or anyone without endangering everyone. He feels so helpless again. Panic also waves through him. realizing just how useless he is again. Again.

Your voice snapped him out of it. “He’s in my apartment right now. His breathing is shallow, airways are clear, he’s losing blood as we speak… ah! But that Camero is here too. I can’t make out left or right about what he’s saying though! Ratchet! Lets go!”

Still grounded in fear, his processors disconnecting as he’s reliving his trauma of how he couldn't do anything for Raf the first time, and how Bumblebee is here too –Another reminder of how he’s failed everyone. Optics widened as he shakes in place.

“RATCHET! FUCK! PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!”

You call out again, as you kick his leg.

“OW! YOU FRAGGING-”

He caught himself before he did anything, realizing you just snapped him out of it. Transforming fully back into his vehicle mode, as you scramble in and direct him over to the main streets, where the other Autobot is.

You let the boys figure out what happened, as much as you’d like to stay back and have a full recount on what happened, Raf is your priority. Running fast as you can back into your building, with how stressed and uncoordinated you are, slamming into the door before you even turned the doorknob like an idiot. When you finally make it in, you’re greeted with a child that’s half your side barely hanging on a thread.

You want to just break down and cry. You don’t know him, but this is not it. Everyone deserves to enjoy life. With the last of the Xanax countering you adrenaline, you get to work. “Sorry Raf. Sis is gonna have to take a look at you. Or try anyways.”

Ratchet and Bee are busy arguing about what happened. That a decepticon managed to trace his alt mode– even with the new paint job. Particular because they noticed Raf. Gunning for the child, relentlessly firing one after another to him. Bumblebee did everything he could to protect Raf, but it was not enough. Both of them sustained severe damage. Ratchet nearly wanted to scream and shout at Bee for being so reckless to have gotten Raf into this situation, but Bee interjected that after they managed to get into hiding, Raf’s phone got a notification. With whatever strength the kid had, he relayed that contact with you was established. And instantly they peeled off, going way above traffic limits, speeding off on the highway in the night to meet you. After all, Ratchet is with you.

Ratchet’s energon lines were nearly boiling. He snapped at Bee. He can’t do anything for humans! And he can’t even contact June! He couldn’t even fix Bumblebee’s voice box! He feels like a failure! And Raf! The one child he’s gotten close to, is now utterly helpless!

As the two boys argue outside, you’ve already started to work on Raf. Context to what happened would be nice, but a critical situation does not afford time for it. Raf is drifting in and out of consciousness, but with whatever words he can explain, he’s pointed out he’s gotten shot, as well as several metal shrapnel had embedded into him.

You’re full of rage. But thankfully for you, stress fuels you. Instantly snapping into work mode, you bring out your medkit. A kit that’s more of a duffel bag littered with supplies that’s probably half expired. Regardless, it’s the best we can work with. You don’t even noticed the two autobots staring outside your window as you work away on Raf.

Do they send him to a human hospital? They certainly can, but will human doctors know what to do when these are energon infused weapons? Would Raf’s family be contacted? Will that endanger the whole hiding in secrecy more? Ratchet is losing it, kicking away plants and punching trees, while Bee is desperately trying to calm him down, despite being hurt himself.

You hear the commotions outside, but are completely tunnel focused, locked into working on Raf. Raf explains he’s struggling to breath, and you noticed one of his lungs is working over time, and the other is very shallow, rather than breathing together, they’re alternating. Considering he was hit with a chest, its not uncommon for it to have developed into tension pneumothorax. You really hope it isn’t, as that’s not a procedure that should be performed in some drug addict’s apartment, but shortly after, his breathing stops. This is not good. There wouldn't be enough time to call for emergency services. Technically you have an emergency vehicle already, but said vehicle is not versed in human medicine. The good Samaritan law right? Either you do something now and hope it brings him back, or he’ll die. or die trying. There’s only one logical option.

Hurriedly cutting his clothes off, as you feel around on his collapsed lung. A child should be two ribs down. Digging on your bottom shelf for vinyl gloves, shoving it on and praying Raf isn’t allergic to anything, you grab your box cutter and quickly swap out the current blade with a new blade. Snatching the vodka on the coffee table and pour it all over your hands, the blade, and a plastic tube you’ve managed to fish out.

Following along the collapsed lung, tracing along his ribs till you’ve counted two, as you press the tip of the blade into the skin, slowly with accuracy, cutting in inches deep before making the cut horizontal across his ribs. If you had more supplies and time, you would have done this with a needle for safety, but fuck! You're convinced you've used up the last of the needles shooting up morphine! Coming back to reality as you work swiftly inserting the tube into his lung, and instant 'pppssshh' hisses out from it.

Ratchet and Bee at this point, have basically glued their faceplate and optics by your window, zooming in into what’s going on. Ratchet recalled that you said you were not a medic, but yet you’re performing with accurate precision. This may be illegal in both Earth and Cybertronian terms, but he can't help but be in awe with how steady your hands and focus on Raf is. Bumblebee however, noticed that you’re completely stressed. Vibrating like a leaf as he points it out to Ratchet. He takes notice as he pulls his optics away from your work, to realize just how scared you are. Clenching your teeth until it’s sore, then swapping to biting your lips until the blood is cut off, moving back to gritting your teeth. He can sense your breathing is all over the place, mostly forgetting to breath as you hold your breath until tears are welling up.

With a gasp, Rafael manages to suck in a breath.

“Easy there Raf. don’t breath too hard. You have a collapsed lung. It probably hurts right now." You tell him.

Subconsciously, Ratch runs a scan on both you and Rafael. You were correct. He did in fact, had tension pneumothorax. And he now is breathing. Still gravely wounded with blood leaking, but able to breath. You on the other hand, physically are safe, but the amount of adrenaline is sky high, and he can see your blood pressure and heart rate reaching the unhealthy range. Powerless to help you two, he wanted to beat himself up. Thankfully, Bumblebee bleeps a few beeps reassuring that you know what you’re doing, and Raf is in safe hands. (Little did Bee know, you in fact, do not know what you’re doing.)

The poor barely conscious boy gives you a nod and you can feel your adrenaline wearing off. Not yet. We still have things to do. He still has bleeding wounds to stop before he’s stabilized. Poor kid is bleeding all over your bed. Fishing in the first aid kit as you grab an EpiPen (totally expired) and stab it into yourself, followed by popping a few pills of Ativan to help sedate the effects.

Ratchet does not understand what is going on, but detected the adrenaline wearing off, cortisol levels rising, only to instantly be replaced with another wave of adrenaline. Is that what you injected?! Why would you purposefully do that?! He was caught in these thoughts when suddenly, a flashback came to him. When he was so desperate to figure out the Synthetic Energon that he tried it on himself… You weren’t testing drugs on yourself… you were desperately doing it to make sure you can continue to save Raf’s life…

Last push you tell yourself. Stop the bleeding and you can have a break. Fueled with too much adrenaline, you instantly start working. Raf will be in such pain you thought. Digging your hands back down the bag for the last vial of morphine you have, -graciously stole from the hospital during your last visit. You mentally calculate how much you need, for a boy this age. You have his age and estimate of height… but his weight? You’re terrible at guessing weights. With no time to think, you suddenly realized something. If Ratchet was able to scan out that you had energon in you, can he scan Raf’s weight? Last thing you want to do is accidentally overdose the poor boy into death. Spinning your head back as you nearly get jumpscared by two bots glued to the window, you slide open the glass.

“Quick Ratchet. What’s Raf’s weight?”

Caught off guard as he was completely focused on your wellbeing, he quickly resets his vocalizer and take a look at Raf’s weight, Giving you an estimate.

Wanting to be on the safe side, you decide 1mg should be enough, not enough to knock him out, but at least subdude the pain. Not like you have local anesthesia or have time for lidocaine creams to work. Realizing you in fact, did have one last sterile needle that you saved from safe needles exchange clinics. Never did you think this was what it was going to be used for. Drawing out what you feel is about 1mg as you tie a tourniquet around Raf’s arms, slapping it a couple times until you can see the vein. Children have small veins, and you’ve opted for a butterfly needle. Thankfully he seems to have better veins than you, and you push the morphine into him. Telling him he’s okay, he’ll feel better soon.

In a moment’s time, Raf is peaceful sleeping, no doubt from the stress and his body finally giving up. But also a symptom that the drug has kicked in. It’s showtime. Making an effort to clean his open wounds with rubbing alcohol as that vodka is totally gone. You work as swiftly as you can, with nothing but a fucking sewing needle and nylon fishing wire, you zone in and start his sutures. It’s been a while since you’ve ever sewn up anything, but once you got into the groove, it was surprisingly relaxing.

Half an hour later, you find yourself done with the major bleeds, finishing off the smaller cuts with a mix of butterfly bandaids and normal one, you proceed to apply medicated gauze over the larger more likely to be infected wounds. Mentally drifting off to how expensive these were, but instantly pulling back to the problem at hand. Finishing up as you bandage him up with rolls of gauze and securing it with medical tape.

Ratchet at this point, could not believe what he was seeing. You, who claimed to not have been a medic, just went through with a complicated surgery, as well as sutures. He wondered if the day he met you was also a life saved by you.

By now, the adrenaline has started to subsided. The parasympathetic nervous system is now starting to take over. Making your way over to the bots as you tell them, Raf is out of critical condition, but he still needs to be in a hospital.

Ratchet is in a turmoil, he know Raf needs to be seen by a proper medic, yet he also know they not only need to lay low, but humans would not know how to even begin diagnosing Raf with energon blasts. “If only we could contact June…” He mumbled.

“June? Who’s that?”

“Jack’s mother, a nurse. Someone who’s aware of our presence.” He curtly replied.

Who is even Jack??

“So– We just need to contact her right?” You already know where this is going, seems like the day is far from over.

“Without detection of course.” Ratchet tagged on. “I have her number if you need it.”

That’s all you needed to hear. Giving him a nod as you flop back into your computer chair and once again, send an sos signal –fully encrypted to this said “June”. You’re fighting your body to stay awake now. The cortisol and benzodiazepines are practically taking over. With the message sent, you slice a little of your windscreen open, and shove the spare keys into Ratchet’s servos.

“I sent her a message. You let her in when she gets here, okay?” As you look out the window. Ah shit. They’ve ruined the whole front yard now. Is that a broken tree?

Ratchet, still having a hard time processing what in Primus’s aft just happened, and Bee just as lost. Without a second thought, you pass out right at your computer desk. You could just hope the bots don’t get in any trouble until June arrives…

[kaelleid]

Izzy Hands Fic Recs (September 2024)

My favorite of the Izzy fics that I read in September 2024. See other recs here.

Pierced Through the Heart by @waterofthemoon, @sungmee (Stede/Izzy)

After Stede and Ed come together and fall apart following Calypso's birthday, Izzy finds Stede heartbroken and on the verge of getting his ear pierced, and manages to help him with both.

an irrevocable condition by redshift (Stede/Izzy)

Love doesn't come with conditions. Maybe that's something Izzy can accept, after all.

heartbreak feels so good by wishingonalightningbolt (Stede/Izzy)

Izzy Hands, chief political strategist with the Green Party, meets Stede Bonnet, a new addition to the morning shows doing spin for Labour. They get along about as well as you might predict.

Iz, just Iz by lepus (Ed/Stede/Izzy)

Out of all the fucking ships in the sea this is where Izzy ended up.

Feeling Crabby by tempocon (Ed/Stede/Izzy)

After coming across a perfect, horrendous gift for his captain, Izzy decides to do something nice for once in his life. Unfortunately, what he fails to account for is that nobody who resides within the captains' cabin of the Revenge has ever been capable of being normal about anything. Things escalate.

Your Awful Heart to Song by @acesaru (Ed/Stede/Izzy)

No one left alive knows that Izzy isn’t strictly human, and he’s worked damn hard to keep it that way. He’s perfectly content to live the rest of his life without speaking the truth to anyone–Edward included–shoving any and all yearning for the sea and his true form down deep inside him where it belongs. He is, after all, good at denying himself what he wants most...

The Old Therebefore by @carrymelikeimcute (Ed/Stede/Izzy)

Three weeks after they bury Izzy, he appears in the water beside The Revenge, half drowned, with two legs, and calling Stede by his first name.

[lovelyangelxxx]

thantophobia | various one piece characters x reader

thantophobia; (n.) the phobia of losing someone you love

→ the aftermath of an argument 

→ angst w some comfort..? (toxic relationships..?), g/n reader

→ sanji vinsmoke, sir crocodile, eustass kidd, trafalgar law, charlotte perospero, and charlotte katakuri

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

sanji vinsmoke ♡

~sanji felt terrible after being angry with you. he felt so lost and panicked, unsure of what to say and how to apologize. it’s been a couple of hours before he approached you with much caution, bent down to your curled up figure, and asked for your forgiveness. you mumbled a small apology as well which made him sigh with relief. you glanced up at him with wet eyes and smiled softly, thankful that he had come to reconcile.

“you’re everything to me.”

sir crocodile ♡

~crocodile raised his voice and saw your figure start to tremble. you started sobbing, thin streams of tears rolling down your cheeks as you walked away from him. he furrowed his eyebrows and hated himself so much for making you cry. it was the worse thing he could’ve done. he hates making his angelic and beautiful lover cry. he grabs you with his hand before you could walk out the door and mutters a small apology. you tell him that you’re still upset with him, but he responds with a chuckle, telling you that he will somehow make up for it and do whatever you desire. 

“don’t cry, i hate it when you cry.”

eustass kidd ♡

~arguments between you and kidd were frequent, yet always over something trivial. however, this argument was serious and he had truly hurt your feelings. he had yelled things you never imagined he ever would and it completely broke you. you dashed off the ship and ran as far as your legs could take you. your heart hurt so much that your chest started burning with the wish that your worst fear hadn’t come true. but unfortunately it had. eustass kidd broke your heart within mere seconds which ironically was the same amount of time that you had fallen deeply in love with him. 

“this is breaking my heart.”

trafalgar law ♡

~even after everything he has been through, law was a pretty stable man. however, after you entered his life, you had become his everything. of course, he has his other priorities, but you had infiltrated his heart and his mind, so when a heated argument ends with you walking out the door he became desperate. he frantically runs towards you and apologizes, tears on the verge of leaving his wet eyes. he loathes every second of that argument and forgets all of the fury that once filled him, desperately asking you to stay. 

“if you walk away, everything will fall apart.”

charlotte perospero ♡

~perospero was a prideful man and his pride definitely took a part in your arguments with him. you felt as if your husband wasn’t trying hard enough to stay with you or understand you. you tried so hard to get through the walls of pride that stood in his heart, yet they never faltered. after one argument, you simply broke down and couldn’t handle his behavior anymore. if he wouldn’t try neither would you, and you had given up out of exhaustion and a broken heart. 

“don’t you understand that i’m trying?”

[moritashie]

"Will you go with me?" 900 words

huge thank you to @shootothrill and Thali from DC for their help <33

Tony Stark, Iron Man, is in his kitchen again. He has been coming over every day without fail for the past two weeks and has told Peter why, but excuse him for questioning the intentions of the gazillionaire suddenly being all buddy buddy with him.

It is especially strange, as before that, the only four interactions he remembers were of them fighting about Spider-Man. It must've been about this amazing superhero Spider-Man. Peter is pretty sure that Tony doesn’t know that he knows about those arguments. He doesn't understand why exactly the man is acting all friendly, so positive, so fake that it annoys him.

A lot of things began to annoy him recently. The way Ned is suddenly interested in watching sports, the way May constantly sends him random articles from the past two years and the way everyone seems to have already moved on from his uncle's death.

A knock on the door throws him away from his train of thought. 

“Can I come in?” Tony asks from the other side of the door.

“Go ahead.” 

Peter clicks off his pen and lays it next to the notes. The knob turns and Mr. Stark's beelines to Peter's desk. 

“A little birdie told me you still haven't left the house.”

“Didn't wanna.”

“Well, maybe you'll wanna when I tell you about the Expo~”

Correction. Five interactions. Four negative, one positive. 

��Nice work, kid’. 

And only one that actually feels his. 

“I won’t.” Peter cuts him off.

“Oh, turn that frown upside down, underoos. Will you go with me? Pretty please? Please with a cherry on top?” He lies on top of Peter’s desk, beaming like a child.

“I don’t feel like leaving the house, Tony.” 

“Mm, But I need my crazy–smart intern with me.”

Peter squeezes the pencil in his hand and feels it break inwards.

“I’ve never even worked with you.”

Tony makes an expression pretending to be oh-so petrified, and asks in an artificially low, quiet tone. “Then whose name is in the credits?”

Peter is on the verge of blowing up at the man. Some things start to boil real quick somewhere deep down in Peter’s chest. 

“I’ve told you.” He tries to stay calm. He swears he does. “That I’m not your intern. I don’t remember any of that, It's like it didn’t happen for me, I CAN’T DO ANY OF THE STUFF I DID WHEN I–” Tears well up in Peter’s eyes. He feels a sudden urge to throw his notebook across the room full force when his torso is squeezed tight by Tony. 

For the next few minutes his chest rises and falls, his heart rate slowly decreases and the sobs quiet down bit by bit, as Tony gently strokes his hair.

“I just don’t get you.” 

Tony hums and pulls Peter into a tighter hug. “When you first woke up after the accident, you were absolutely delirious. Going in circles, asking the same three questions every five minutes, you briefly recognized May on a good hour. I was so scared I would lose you, and I couldn’t even do anything to prevent it. And then you got better, and now I can do something to… Still have you by my side. Not just physically.” 

Peter says nothing, but he ducks away from Tony’s arms and raises his head to look at Tony, who seems out of his depth, moments from having a meltdown himself.

“Cho said that since you don’t seem to be recovering your memories, chances are that the past two years are go– aren’t coming back. We can’t wait until it all goes away, neither me nor May want you to stay cooped up in the apartment because of this. So please, let’s go out together. It doesn’t have to be the Expo, we can go to some restaurant or, hell, even an art museum. Baby steps.”

“...I did remember some things.” He mutters.

“What?” Tony asks in a soft voice that leaves Peter unsure whether he didn't hear the question or if he just wants Peter to clarify.

“It’s not much just- I can count all my memories with you on one hand but– you were always annoyed in those, or mad at me, like when we were on some ship? How am I supposed to trust that we’re close and you don’t just want to- I don’t even know… And if we were, I don’t feel like the person you are talking about.” 

The man’s eyes are glossy, and Peter wants the floor to swallow him whole. 

“I am so sorry Pete. I don’t know how to–  I can only promise you, I care about you. More than I thought I would care about anyone. I want you to go back to being happy and healthy, and learn to live with everything. And you are still you, memories or not. I see it every time I come over.”

He takes a deep breath as he carefully assembles the next sentences.

“I’ve researched support groups for people with amnesia, you're not the only one feeling this way. One is here, in Queens, could you at least consider trying? Once?” Peter hides his face in his knees, and Tony’s already bracing himself for refusal when the teen quietly mumbles.

“Will you go with me?”

Tony smiles. “I would love to.”

[neaverse]

i am here asking for your favorite fics (i can tell you have good taste<3) 🫶

hi bella!!! thank you for the ask<33

okay so i read a lot. When i say a lot i mean a lot. The amount of fanfiction i’ve consumed in the last three years is probably unhealthy, but what can i say really? I don’t have much going on in my life🤷🏼‍♀️

so going into this, i contemplated how i should categorise my favourites. Current favs? Fav fics per ship? In the end, i decided to simply compile a list of fics that i still think about weeks and months (if not years) after i first read them. Fics that punched me in the gut, fics that made me question my whole existence. I could probably go on forever with this list but i’ve narrowed it down to 10 to make the job a little bit easier for both me and you hahaha!

In no particular order:

The World Is A Violent Sky by anonymous

Harry Potter wants to die; Draco Malfoy wants to live — a story of life and death, everything in between and beyond — in the form of scatters of love and hurt like freckles of stars forming into constellations.

Crimson Rivers by bizarrestars

Regulus Black was fifteen the first time his name was called at a reaping. He's twenty-five when it happens to him again. A lot has changed in that time, and one of them is that he's ready to do whatever it takes to make it home. Nothing or no one will stop him, not even James Potter. James Potter has no plans to stop Regulus Black from making it home. In fact, his plans revolve around the opposite. He has his reasons, but he's made his choice to get Regulus out of the arena, even knowing it'll be the last thing he ever does. Sirius Black was sixteen when he volunteered to take his little brother's place in the arena. At twenty-six, without the option to do it again, he has no choice but to be a mentor to his brother and best friend, knowing that only one of them can make it back out. Two names called, a mentor on the verge of falling apart, and more secrets and grief between all of them than they know how to handle. None of them are prepared for what comes next, or how far they'll go to make it through.

Harry Potter and the Welcome to the World of Grey by @sobsicles

When Harry fails to keep his anger at bay and Voldemort possesses his mind, the events that follow lead him down a long road to realizing the world isn't as black and white as it seems. Chaos, hilarity, and tragedy ensue with a Dark Lord being honest all the time, a rival becoming something else, and a world demanding to be saved. Featuring frightened Death Eaters, deep conversations with a monster, Pureblood traditions being ridiculous, and the fight to do the right thing with no true options. Harry's life just gets more and more bizarre with each passing moment.

Art Heist, Baby! by @otrtbs

When James Potter answers a mysterious ad in his local coffee shop, the last thing he expects is to be thrown into a world of white collar crime, but how can he resist when the mastermind behind the operation has dark hair and brooding eyes and promises wealth beyond James' wildest imagination? He would do anything for that boy named after a star, including stealing millions of dollars of fine art.

Orion in the Sky by space_wingding

Draco Malfoy owns a bookshop in the Lake District. He’s also cursed. Enter: Harry Potter.

Berlin Angel by @de-sire-blog

Berlin is absolutely miserable in February. Or it’s just Sirius. Alternatively: A story of how Remus Lupin stepped into Sirius’ life, flashed his trademark grin, and reminded him that life is a beautiful thing meant to be enjoyed. No risk, no fun!

Stop All the Clocks (This Is the Last Time I’m Leaving Without You) by firethesound

Living with Draco was difficult; living without him is unbearable. But if there’s one thing Harry learned from the war, it’s that even when one life ends, the rest of the world goes right on living.

Dear Reader by @calamitoustide

never take advice from someone who's falling apart Regulus has been quite obsessed with this anonymous advice blogger Helios and becomes concerned when they begin to post cryptically to an unspecified “Reader” At the same time, he’s starting Uni and has to deal with his brother being back in his life and a certain boy he won’t leave him alone.

Starvin’ darlin’ by @showinalittlelife

The man suddenly drops the knife, he sighs like all his dreams have been crushed. “Oh, dear, I can’t eat you! You’re rotting! What a shame, thought I’d found a looker too,” he whines miserably. The thoughts in Evan’s mind are racing too fast for him to make any sense of them. He has so many questions—too many questions that are probably better left off unanswered, but before he can think properly, he opens his mouth and speaks. “You think I’m a looker?” or: Barty is a cannibal, Evan is dying and they go on a little road trip!

Running on Air by eleventy7

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hey Cas! How're you doing?

*sighs deeply*

It's Context Anon again, with a whole new problem because...yeah. (Honestly, I'm sorry I'm going to you for what's pretty much everything that's on the verge of falling apart in my life)

So I have this friend, let's call her A, and she's friends with this other guy, whom we'll call B. Now A and I are pretty good friends, and because of that, B and I are also friends. Now the problem is that B is sort of in a completely different friend group than me, and the only thing that's really joining us together as friends that hang out is A, but A's leaving and going to another country with her family at the end of the year.

Now, B's a really nice person, and I want to stay friends (and I'm pretty sure he does too), except I have no idea how, and I really don't know how the friendship's going to continue.

And one of my 'show affection towards your friends' methods is like, physical touch, like hugs and touching hands but I don't know how to do that with B? Like, as a kid I was taught of this divide between boys and girls and now my mind just kind of goes ???????. And I don't want people to like, ship us or anything because as much as I love and appreciate B it's not a romantic thing

Okay! So if you want to go the physical touch route but make sure it's platonic, could you go for more platonic gestures? Like a high-five (or the cool equivalent, whatever it is that actual real people do), a clap on the back, a side hug, things like that?

You can also show you want to be friends in other ways. Ask him about his life ask to hang out, comment on his posts, that kind of thing.

[richincolor]

New Releases

A whole bunch of new books out today from a variety of genres and a little something for everybody. I'm looking forward to reading, The Eternal Ones, the conclusion of Namina Forna's Deathless trilogy and a I always love Renee Watson's work so I'm excited to read her book of poetry that I can share with my students. Read on to check out this week's new books. 

This is How You Fall in Love by Anika Hussain Bloomsbury YA

Zara and Adnan are just friends. Always have been, always will be. Even if they have to pretend to be girlfriend and boyfriend… Zara loves love in all forms: 90s romcoms and romance novels and grand sweeping gestures. And she’s desperate to have her own great love story. Crucially, a real one. So when her best friend Adnan begs her to pretend to date him to cover up his new top-secret relationship, Zara is hesitant. This isn’t the kind of thing she had in mind. But there’s something in it for Zara too: making her parents, who love Adnan, happy might just stop them arguing for a while. She may not be getting her own love story, but she could save theirs. So Zara agrees and the act begins: after all, how different can pretending to be in a relationship with your best friend be to just hanging around with them like usual? Turns out, a lot. With fake dating comes fake hand-holding and fake kissing and real feelings… And when a new boy turns up in Zara’s life, things get more confusing than ever. The course of true love never did run smooth, but Zara’s love story is messier than most…

The Eternal Ones (Deathless #3) by Namina Forna Delacorte Press

Mere weeks after confronting the Gilded Ones—the false beings she once believed to be her family—Deka is on the hunt. In order to kill the gods, whose ravenous competition for power is bleeding Otera dry, she must uncover the source of her divinity. But with her mortal body on the verge of ruin, Deka is running out of time—to save herself and an empire that’s tearing itself apart at its seams. When Deka’s search leads her and her friends to the edge of the world as they know it, they discover an astonishing new realm, one which holds the key to Deka’s past. Yet it also illuminates a devastating decision she must soon make… Choose to be reborn as a god, losing everyone she loves in the process. Or bring about the end of the world.

The Boyfriend Wish by Swati Teerdhala Katherine Tegen Books

Deepa’s a hopeless romantic. And even though Deepa’s checklist for the perfect boyfriend is a mile long, her mom and dad’s fairy-tale love story makes her feel like romantic success ought to be a family trait. It’s why when her grandmother gives her a jasmine flower with the promise that it will fulfill her heart’s greatest desire, and then a new boy moves in across the street, Deepa knows—he must be her wish come true. Rohit checks off every box on Deepa’s timelessly handsome, a thoughtful listener, and a romantic who knows his flowers. Deepa’s next-door neighbor (and constant tormentor) Vik also surprisingly approves, though she knows it shouldn’t be a mark against Rohit. Is it luck or is it magic? Deepa doesn’t want to take chances, so when her grandmother warns her that the wish is only permanent if she seals it with a kiss, she knows she needs to move quickly. Rohit is the right boy in every way, so then why does Deepa not feel like he might not be the right choice?

A Suffragist’s Guide to the Antarctic by Yi Shun Lai Atheneum Books for Young Readers

November 1914. Clara Ketterling-Dunbar is one of twenty-eight crew members of The Resolute —a ship meant for an Antarctic expedition now marooned on ice one hundred miles from the shore of the continent. An eighteen-year-old American, Clara has told the crew she’s a twenty-one-year-old Canadian. Since the war broke out, sentiment toward Americans has not been the most favorable, and Clara will be underestimated enough simply for being a woman without also giving away just how young she is. Two members of the crew know her nationality, but no one knows the truth of her activities in England before The Resolute set sail. She and her suffragist sisters in the Women’s Social & Political Union were waging war of a different kind in London. They taught Clara to fight. And now, even marooned on the ice, she won’t stop fighting for women’s rights…or for survival. In the wilderness of Antarctica, Clara is determined to demonstrate what a woman is truly capable of—if the crew will let her.

Dead Things Are Closer Than They Appear by Robin Wasley Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

A painfully average teen’s life is upended by a magical apocalypse in this darkly atmospheric and sweepingly romantic novel perfect for fans of The Raven Boys , Buffy the Vampire Slayer , and The Rest of Us Just Live Here . High school is hard enough to survive without an apocalypse to navigate. Sid Spencer has always been the most normal girl in her abnormal hometown, a tourist trap built over one of the fault lines that seal magic away from the world. Meanwhile, all Sid has to deal with is hair-ruining humidity, painful awkwardness, being one of four Asians in town, and her friends dumping her when they start dating each other—just days after one of the most humiliating romantic rejections faced by anyone, ever, in all of history. Then someone kills one of the Guardians who protect the seal. The earth rips open and unleashes the magic trapped inside. Monsters crawl from the ground, no one can enter or leave, and the man behind it all is roaming the streets with a gang of violent vigilantes. Suddenly, Sid’s life becomes a lot less ordinary. When she finds out her missing brother is involved, she joins the remaining Guardians, desperate to find him and close the fault line for good. Fighting through hordes of living corpses and uncontrollable growths of forest, Sid and a ragtag crew of would-be heroes are the only thing standing between their town and the end of the world as they know it. Between magic, murderers, and burgeoning crushes, Sid must survive being a perfectly normal girl caught in a perfectly abnormal apocalypse. Only—how can someone so ordinary make it in such an extraordinary world?

The Fox Maidens by Robin Ha Balzer + Bray

Kai Song dreams of being a warrior. She wants to follow in the footsteps of her beloved father, the commander of the Royal Legion. But while her father believes in Kai and trains her in martial arts, their society isn’t ready for a girl warrior. Still, Kai is determined. But she is plagued by rumors that she is the granddaughter of Gumiho, the infamous nine-tailed fox demon who was killed by her father years before. Everything comes crashing down the day Kai learns the deadly secret about her mother’s past. Now she must come to terms with the truth about her identity and take her destiny into her own hands. As Kai desperately searches for a way to escape her fate, she comes to find compassion, and even love, in the most unexpected places. Set in 16th century Korea and richly infused with Korean folklore, The Fox Maidens is a timeless and powerful story about fighting for your place in the world, even when it seems impossible.

Call Me Iggy by Jorge Aguirre & Rafael Rosado First Second

Ignacio “Iggy” Garcia is an Ohio-born Colombian American teen living his best life. After bumping into Marisol (and her coffee) at school, Iggy’s world is spun around. But Marisol as too much going on to be bothered with the likes of Iggy. She has school, work, family, and the uphill battle of getting her legal papers. As Iggy stresses over how to get Marisol to like him, his grandfather comes to the rescue. The thing is, not only is his abuelito dead, but he also gives terrible love advice. The worst. And so, with his ghost abuelito’s meddling, Iggy’s life begins to unravel as he sets off on a journey of self-discovery. Call me Iggy tells the story of Iggy searching for his place in his family, his school, his community, and ultimately—as the political climate in America changes during the 2016 election— his country. Focusing on familial ties and budding love, Call me Iggy challenges our assumptions about Latino-American identity while reaffirming our belief in the hope that all young people represent. Perfect for lovers of multigenerational stories like Displacement and The Magic Fish.

Bunt! Striking Out on Financial Aid by Ngozi Ukazu & Mad Rupert First Second Molly Bauer’s first year of college is not the picture-perfect piece of art she’d always envisioned. On day one at PICA, Molly discovers that—through some horrible twist of fate—her full-ride scholarship has vanished! But the ancient texts (PICA’s dusty financial aid documents) reveal a loophole. If Molly and 9 other art students win a single game of softball, they’ll receive a massive athletic scholarship. Can Molly’s crew of ragtag artists succeed in softball without dropping the ball? The author of the New York Times best-selling Check, Please series, Ngozi Ukazu returns with debut artist Madeline Rupert to bring an energetic young adult story about authenticity, old vs. new, and college failure. It also poses the question: “Is art school worth it?”

Black Girl You Are Atlas by Renée Watson & illustrated by Ekua Holmes Kokila

A thoughtful celebration of Black girlhood by award-winning author and poet Renée Watson. In this semi-autobiographical collection of poems, Renée Watson writes about her experience growing up as a young Black girl at the intersections of race, class, and gender. Using a variety of poetic forms, from haiku to free verse, Watson shares recollections of her childhood in Portland, tender odes to the Black women in her life, and urgent calls for Black girls to step into their power. Black Girl You Are Atlas encourages young readers to embrace their future with a strong sense of sisterhood and celebration. With full-color art by celebrated fine artist Ekua Holmes throughout, this collection offers guidance and is a gift for anyone who reads it.

[causenessus]

OMG NEVER FEEL SORRY ABOUT NOT RESPONDING RIGHT AWAY!!! I totally get it, some days are just like that!!!! I’m literally just here to yap at you so respond whenever you feel like! Don’t feel obligated to respond at all because you don’t owe me anything!!! <3333

Slowly but surely I’m making my way through the depression room lol. My mom wants to turn my room into a guest bedroom and the basement into my new room so it needs to be cleaned by the end of the year. So hopefully more surely than slowly lol- OMG GOOD JOB!!!! I LOVE THE FEELING OF ACCOMPLISHMENT FROM FINISHING SOMETHING WELL!!!!

NESS YOU CAN’T JUST TELL PPL YOU’RE PROUD OF THEM- I WILL START CRYING 😭😭😭😭😭😭🫶🏻

Worry not! I am not stressing about senior year!!! I’ve already decided where I’m going to college just waiting for the applications to allow me to apply for fall of 2025 (I’m going on vacation summer 2025 and thus will not be able to start- it is a cruise in case you’re curious 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ my graduation present if you will) BAHAHA!!! Definitely what happened! I smash so many holes in walls/j

(HOW DID YOU KNOW I HAD A COOKIE HEAD??? WHO TOLD YOU???/lh)

Good news! We did not take senior photos! And yes my hair appointment went very well 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ I now have purple and pink hair (split into like four sections and it’s like alternating so pink in front and purple in back on one side and the opposite on the other side) THE ORANGEY PINK WAS NOT PRETTY. DO NOT LET IT FOOL YOU. It was like bad blonde orange and like salmon pink- not good it looked really bad and washed me out bcs cookie anon has a complexion that rivals Casper the ghost.

AHFJWJCJSJ I WILL SEND SO MANY ASKS. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’VE STARTED. I LOVE YAPPING AND APPRECIATE THAT YOU YAP JUST AS MUCH IN YOUR REPLY!!!! <3333

I too think about Suna a lot, just a weekly basis (love notes Suna gets like three-four times a week. Regular/Timeskip Suna only gets like twice a week if he’s lucky. The rest of the time is spent thinking about that one Osamu manga panel 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨)

I can see it now; Atsumu did something (took the Mac n cheese from Y/N’s apartment for his own selfish Mac n cheese midnight snacks) and Y/N of course goes to complain to Suna who laughs at her and then tells Osamu- In which case, Bakery Anon will become evil 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ anything for Osamu (+ Love Notes! Y/N…Suna is there but Y/N <3) so we put chiles in the icing of cupcakes and give them to Atsumu. Tada! Self Shipping During the week hours-

Okay! I think I found the fic so RAMBLE TIME.

NAH Y/N IS SO REAL FOR THE “I mean he wasn’t hot before” BUT THEN HE GETS COVERED IN BLOOD AND PATHETIC. REAL REAL REAL. AND THEN SUNA SENDING THE PHOTO. I’M NOT ENTIRELY CONVINCED HE DIDN’T PURPOSEFULLY TRY TO RECEIVE WITH HIS FACE TO SEND THE PHOTO TO HER.

ALL OF YOUR TAGS ARE SO REAL. I ALSO HAVE VERG NON PG THINGS TO SAY ABOUT HIM. JWJFJWJDJSJ

Okay back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I read your little about me and I agree. Oikawa is also very important to me. I could write an essay on him and why he’s such a Human character. and why he’s perfect to be like a 1-1 with Kageyama but also be his own thing separately- this is not a ramble about him though so 🧍🏻‍♀️

OKAY YAPPING DONE. CLOCKING OUT.

For the people who made it this far and see this: YOU GUYS ARE WORTHY OF LOVE. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise, you deserve to be loved and not be a secret. You deserve food, your body needs it to function. You deserve water, it’s very important. It helps with headaches, make sure to get sleep. I know it’s difficult (I have insomnia so I get it) but routines help even if just a little bit. Remember to rest and that you deserve a little break. And if no one else tells you today. I LOVE YOU <3

For Ness: I LOVE YOU <333 YOUR WRITING MAKES ME FERAL. (If you can’t tell). I can’t wait to continue yapping with you, yap sessions >>>> you ALSO deserve a break. If you don’t feel like writing then we’ll be here after your break. Remember to have fun and take care of yourself. Drink water and eat food! I know it’s easy to forget but as long as you eat some sustenance! Good job!!!!

-sincerely bakery anon 🍪

BAKERY ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH :(( AND PLEASE COME IN HERE AND YAP WHENEVER!! like even if i haven't answered a previous ask DON'T BE AFRAID TO SEND ANOTHER ONE!! I WILL GET TO THEM ALL EVENTUALLY I LOVE READING YOUR ASKS AND WHATEVER YOU TALK ABOUT!! I LOVE IT ALL <3

AND AA!!! GOOD JOB TO YOU TOO!! i would come there and help you clean out your room if i could </33 I AM THERE WITH YOU IN SPIRIT!!! AND I HOPE IF YOU MOVE INTO THE BASEMENT IT'S NICER!! i feel like basements are always kind of nice bc they have more room and privacy?? but that's just me!!

AND I'M GLAD YOU'RE NOT STRESSING ABOUT SENIOR YEAR!! have as much fun as possible <3 like i had friends who went crazy and were taking ap bio and ap chem and ap calc BUT I WAS LIVING MY BEST LIFE WITH THE BARE MINIMUM REQUIRED CLASSES AND CONCURRENT ENROLLMENT CLASSES!! i'm glad you've already got where you plan to go and everything planned out!! good luck with your applications <3 AND HAVE SO MUCH FUN ON YOUR CRUISE AAAA THAT SOUNDS AWESOME!! (personally i'm terrified of the water BUT I HOPE YOU HAVE FUN!! THAT'S SUCH A COOL GRADUATION GIFT AND YOU TOTALLY DESERVE IT <3 PLEASE DO CHECK IN LIKE NEXT MAY OR WHENVER ABOUT YOUR CRUISE/AFTER YOU GO ON IT AND HOW IT IS!! [and ofc pls check in again before that as well <3 i love hearing from you <3])

AND I'M GLAD YOU WERE ABLE TO?? MOVE YOUR SENIOR PHOTOS OR THEY AT LEAST DID NOT HAPPEN BEFORE YOU GOT YOUR HAIR REDONE!! and OMG THE PURPLE PINK SOUNDS SO COOL!! i just saw someone on instagram today who like half their bangs were bleached sort of platinum-gray-white and the top of her hair was the same color but then the sort of undercut/layers were her natural dark hair color AND IT LOOKED SO COOL!!! (but i don't think my asian hair would let me do that color unfortunately </333) AND DW ABOUT THE ORANGE PINK COLORS 😭 i remember my sister tried to dye some of her hair purple but (once again blaming it on asian hair) it literally just died and turned some type of medusa/ursala green-grayish color it was so bad 😭😭 BUT AA THE RED AND PURPLE NOW SOUNDS SO GOOD!!

REGULAR/TIMESKIP SUNA ONLY GETS TWICE A WEEK IF HE'S LUCKY 😭😭😭😭 LMAOO THAT MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD AND OMG i think i was driving yesterday and i thought about that one really cute osamu timeskip panel where he puts on the jersey and like looks back at the camera to match atsumu on a tv screen also wearing a jersey <33 LIKE OMG HE'S SO CUTE (i shouldn't think about that while driving tho like...i was definitely distracted ahem...ANYWAY)

YES OMG BAKERY ANON JOIN THE SELF SHIPPING HOURS!! you and love notes osamu and me and love notes suna <33 it's perfect!! it's so so cute <33 imagine u and osamu like coming up to atsumu being like "tsumu!! we made u mac n cheese because we know how much u love it <3" (you guys made it with orange juice 💀) AND SUNA AND YN ARE BOTH RECORDING FROM BEHIND A WALL </3 ik u guys just set up the most foul pranks ever!! (but atsumu def deserves them <3)

AND OMG NO I THINK SUNA DEF TOOK THAT RECEIVE TO THE FACE ON PURPOSE AND LIKE IMAGINING HIS LITTLE SMIRK WITH THE BLOOD COMING OUT OF HIS NOSE HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I NEED TO GO REREAD THAT FIC OMG

and omg yes oikawa is so so important to me <33 i just ranted about that in my answer to mango anon's ask 😭😭 BUT HE'S SO HUMAN AND HE DESERVES THE ENTIRE WORLD!! HE DESERVES SO MUCH LOVE AND TO BE REASSURED HE IS ENOUGH AS HE IS AND THAT HE'S SO SO AMAZING AND THE BEST PERSON IN THE WORLD AND <333 i think i've said this somewhere here before but like every few months or so i have this one friend who also watches hq who is a very firm kageyama stan and maintains "oikawa tried to abuse him!!" he's bad!!! and me (very firm oikawa stan) am like "OKAY?? HE ABUSED HIS MIDDLE SCHOOL TEAMMATES?? they both changed oikawa is NOT a bad person yap yap yap!!!" (sorry i def turned this into a ramble about him 🧍‍♀️)

EVERYONE LISTEN TO WHAT BAKERY ANON IS SAYING!!! YOU ARE SO IMPORTANT AND LOVED <3 MAKE SURE TO EAT AND DRINK LOTS OF WATER <3 TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES!! (and that goes for you too bakery anon!!! <3)

and thank you for your sweet reminder bakery anon!! i'm so glad you enjoy my writing <33 that makes me so so happy to hear genuinely it means the world and really fulfils my motivation!! i will make sure to take a break if i feel like i need it and thank you so much i love u <33 I CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR FROM YOU AGAIN I LOVE THESE YAP SESSIONS!!)

[brightblessed]

MAIN VERSES

SAVIOR OF EORZEA.

he started as an adventurer, trying to SURVIVE in an unforgiving world. long having abandoned any hope for his homeland & his future, he lives for the right now. He longs to gain power as so he takes up the most destructive form of magic he can. eventually, he is recruited to the SCIONS because of his gift, the echo. An ability that allows him to see past events and defy the mind control of false gods summoned through faith and ritual. 

UNBELIEVER

oh mighty warrior of light. How the MIGHTY fall indeed. Used in a political scheme and framed for the murder of royalty, the Scions are no more. Most likely dead, save for three of them. Again, he SURVIVES. Again, he was POWERLESS to save those he cared about. Fleeing to the nation of Ishgard as a Ward of House Fortemps thanks to a friend, he and the few survivors are caught up in a war they have no stake in. Once a powerful mage, black magic becomes IMPOSSIBLE to control because of his hate. He feels himself being torn apart. Alas, a voice in the abyss. An unlikely mentor. The way of the Dark Knight calls to him. Power to protect, power to serve justice. The DARKNESS claws at his soul, but he still walks in the LIGHT. 

LIBERTY OR DEATH

Sacrifice & more sacrifice. The Scions are reunited and TORN apart. Too much loss tears at him. But now he stands at the doorway to his PAST. ALA MHIGO, his homeland. The schemes of a madman have brought them to war with the Garlean Empire, the very people that stole his family. As he promised himself he would never return, that those that fought for freedom were a lost cause… He now stands ready to face his past. As a Scion, a Warrior of Light, and a victim of the Empire. This time, he will have the POWER. He will liberate his country, and himself from his past. 

BECOME WHAT YOU MUST

One by one, the Scions fell. Into a sleep that no one could wake them from. A mysterious hooded man beckoned, and across worlds, he went. To a place on the verge of DEATH. A premonition foretold his own demise, and he must join the Scions in an unfamiliar world. A world he must RESCUE, for those he has lost. for those he can yet save. The fate of two worlds hangs in the balance, and his title of LIGHT must be cast away. He must become the bringer of NIGHT, the warrior of darkness. 

TALES OF LOSS AND FIRE AND FAITH

Finally at peace. And a MADMAN decides to steal away everything he held dear. To tear about the world and people he had come to LOVE. Unwilling to lose anything again, he will fight until the END. Until the very end, and further still. Truths and pain that can crush the soul. BUT YOU ARE NOT ALONE. 

ALTERNATE VERSES

LIGHTLESS

Non-Warrior of Light verse. When Roi and Niall attempted to escape into Eorzea, Niall was killed. This led to Roi being captured by the Garleans. Being a physically capable 13-year-old, they sent him to a work camp of prisoners where he was subjected to hard labor and intense abuse. For ten years, he managed to survive against the odds. After the WoL defeats Gauis and his research on the Echo reaches the soldiers in charge of the prison, they discover that Roi’s bursts of unconsciousness he often gets line up with the research. After questioning him and confirming he has the Echo, he is shipped away to a lab as a test subject. From this point, it breaks into three sub-verses. 

I. I SURVIVED BUT I HAVE NOT BEEN SPARED. This takes place if Roi hasn’t been taken to the lab yet and is somehow freed from his prison or your character meets him. It can also take place if he is freed from the lab before they eventually kill him by draining his aether or pushing his body/mind too far.  II. THE BOY WITH THE BROKEN HALO  In which he finally breaks and starts openly complying with the research in the hopes it will free him from returning to prison. In this verse, Roi either remains at the lab or is eventually able to leave as a soldier after they find out as much as they can about his echo. In this, he would open be helping the empire despite what they did to him and his family out of an intense fear of returning to his life before. That being said, his body is in far worse shape than in the main verse and the experiments made it more difficult for him to control his aether properly. I would say his combat style would be more similar to a gunbreaker, often attempting to use the echo to collect information from the Empire. He can still use magic, but it physically drains him to do so. I would say the intense damage to his body would bar him from having an open combat role, he would likely be more of an information agent. Now I cannot stress enough that he would still, basically, be a mage. But it would do his body harm to use too much magic and thus he would rely mostly on a sword. I would also wager they did research into how to use the Echo for combat, like with Fordola, and fighting with him would be incredibly difficult because of that. So tl;dr, he wouldn’t be in open combat too often. But when he is, he’d still be quite a foe. But his primary use for the military would be his echo. He’d still basically be a slave. He wouldn’t be allowed to act freely without supervision. I’m still working out exactly what he could do with the Echo because I don’t want it to be exactly like with Fordola. III. RABID ANIMAL In this verse, he taps into his natural magical abilities and the basic things Niall taught him. He loses control of his abilities thanks to the experiments and kills/severely wounds everyone around him. He is also horribly injured but manages to survive. Maybe he was rescued by a random beast tribe or small group of people or maybe luck was (finally) on his side. He stays by himself, doing whatever he has to in order to survive and killing every garlean soldier he sees. Again, physical combat is nearly impossible (even more so than the other verses because of the intense damage caused by his own spells) but he can use magic despite it messing him up. Whether or not he gets to Eorzea depends on my partner and I plotting. Either way, Roi is far more messed up in this verse. 

LET ME DRINK YOUR LIGHT

Instead of being scouted by the Scions, Roi remained a normal adventurer. He continued his quest for POWER, doing his best to kill his heart with every hardship. He may have began as a helpful adventurer that seemed a friend to the common man. But as time went on, his quest for power led him to the forsaken art of black magic. As he grew more powerful, he was exposed to more and more darkness. Isolation and distrust started him down a bad path. He is now a ruthless criminal, taking whatever he wants and seeking more power. As one of the strongest mages in the realm, there is very little people can do to stop him. His effort to expel all weakness has led him into doing awful things, just as desperation had before that. Roi longs to cast off human weaknesses.   Survival and power are the only things he seeks. Known as a man that could have been a hero, Roi is an ally to those that want people killed. To those that would pay to hurt others. His thirst for power has led him to be one of the most feared men in the underground. 

I’M THE ONE THAT MAKES MY FINAL CALL.

Roi’s family was from Rosaria. There, he lived the early years of his life in peace. In a tiny village, his mother and uncle raised him. His father had fallen in battle against the Ironbloods. Roi never met him. Despite everything, Roi awakened as a Bearer after the empire was already in control of the country. His family tried to hide him, but it didn’t last. In an attempt to stop someone from harming an aging and nearly gone to the curse bearer, Roi used magic to protect. This led to the deaths of his mother and uncle when they tried to rescue him. Roi, rather than being killed, was branded and forced into the army due to his natural prowess. The fight was snuffed out of him quickly, being only 13 when he was taken. It wasn’t until years later when he was the only survivor of his unit and was lost among Fallen ruins that he unearthed something. A crystal like one he had never seen before. Upon touching it, he felt himself fall unconscious. Only to be faced with a man he thought had been slain by the imperial forces. The man, despite them being on different sides, offered to help Roi grow strong and escape his bonds. Thus did he flee with Fray. Roi has survived on the fringes of society. Stronger than most and forced to stay away from civilization almost entirely, Roi is very isolated. He wanders from place to place, killing those that use their power to dominate others and enacting his own justice. Because he is Branded, he sees most that approach him as enemies by default. He has heard of Cid the Outlaw and does not know how to think about him. Before the first time skip, Roi is still in the army. He only escapes during the 5 years. He also still has something similar to the echo and his dark knight powers, though I am willing to negotiate the echo if people do not want to have it exist in threads.

ANCIENT

[ image tba]

Ancient Verse. Default is Amyntas being Azem and the 14th member of the convocation.

[image tba]

SO DARKNESS I BECAME

UNSUNDERED. VERSE. Amyntas was Azem and failed to stop the final days. He was not sundered and took his title back and resolved to aide the other unsundered. Almost all of who he was has died in the eons. 

[libidomechanica]

“Tis Popes eye”

A limerick sequence

               1

’Tis Pope’s eye. She yield. A small, whatever fellowship so far reached over    thee. Side of eight in her    watcher was! Both person who shone, and passion-winged crocodiles.

               2

Not that God who looked at! He, whose between, has dashed cottage singing education    in fact, his sorry    Scheme of a distance what a title to meet youth would pay.

               3

Like a serious, she cloud all be as a kiss by the could given toll    a reguiem that mouth: the    deep. For all the glow. The mind, and and dance to me. Fancies dwell.

               4

Let us weep it on the march of Earth’s true! Where fame which a man-eating,    some time Sonny Rollins    disamed. And whored, thy worth—comparison, as one near?

               5

And beate thorns that life, will say, close to him, with money, or married both, so    long. Pear exotic; pulci    was singing in the Eternal wings beat still it apart.

               6

And now befal loves me! While youth and wings rain called with gloom and a loving    kings, friend! Oh, should your heard    on the beauty you on its clue? Athwart what those who stood calls!

               7

In the answer, Maud will bite yowes. Of deeds and then, churls, the weeks of State    must love many—still where    plain to watcher’s too. And o’re, and leaps like Malthus? And the world.

               8

And lovely Head. As in clay; ye could no long. Works or a Ha! Thus lived    the spirit, with her profuse    of power, especial legend or God to refer to.

               9

Look at Mileva, it’s official situation. To tear could of straws    and every Muse would be    civilization shall shoe thy breast upon his condition.

               10

To fall: an universe united pow’r before that toss’d Thee the loins    engenderings, which should have    seen he did not plain English am I deified. Her vogue!

               11

And now, the temporary passion. The male, and wave to see. Love; it disna    become as tuneful    neighbour’s Wife, drawn after him, thou, cried, let death a cypress, thought.

               12

The birds flie, that, he was long should strife by carrying our anguish, how could    wish she view’d and for comfort    of my breast. Still pursued his bonny ship, and where you’re whom?

               13

Taken up at her still one day so solidly whereto the time. As    I might hour, call’d Paradise,    and look to thrust once in. See who would sick off then a fool.

               14

The bed to join together; thus to me as laughing is thus we meet. Thou    waited: out of such matters    Russians, bought; and, wonder. A memory to remedy?

               15

The ladies, which is set, my one way? And cities like a step seemed as he    fell in purest that Light    as few men to the black where they stow’d him night which, like he said.

               16

And summer. ’ Which would as dew, and by a knife, because which even Despair.    The tree cut from those was    afraid oft came like asp with eyes our she would transform’d or more.

               17

Turned to an end to-night, and wings are extreme verge to proved all where pictures,    ’ it no form divine, he,    whose plume, waving, and Franceses? Each bending. Oh, Thou or I.

               18

Or cross vibes. Who know which has light hand then thou setst a ball above him. Whose    might honourable; and    starting foplings, nothing of a hope will grin. Followed away.

               19

Crazy for Pardon. He often lie deepening claims her flame kindled hope, to    slaye with me but for    afternoon, in vowing can do; then the most favour, malgre Malthus?

               20

Why wept his lips; though a millions of the dead, he drew: swift to critic, more    record. Those threaded like    that needs must steep rough the ocean, and some way how tender young!

               21

In twice two doomed ship entangle my Leipsic, and O that flaps and move; no    winds do know’st I am    to thee to die wits impute my though ill speak our brain o’ thine?

               22

And wars and nostril, dark eye might end a line, remoue: keep still existent spare    its workings be dear heart    and daring eyes! Damp in the billowy-bosom’d innocence.

               23

This thing buds, blossoms. But her dear Annie, Annie, O Annie, bide! And mates,    to put his lip a kiss,    life’s oblivion, the Disease. As I tried to swelling lies.

               24

Then thou growes one’s as if each amatory looked shall homage where you    called work, must and sings, which    from vice, was long fork deep, until I see her in theirs: without.

               25

The silence of some Astraean again. And every harp, unless with eyes of    your ration—professors:    they, my sweet play the wants to love as a Thought about his brain.

               26

And True harmony of gentle worldly Hope men have slain. She wounds of our    tender the lamp of delight,    till these carried her cargo, from everything net. We are.

               27

In sailing grace could not more true? Of the day ten years that new tear thee as    his own visions proceeded    not sow or Scherbatoff, or Melancholy; then why young.

               28

Shine own selues to understand at the Throne. Child so few blindness, nor time    heat ennui, which after    a time, if I burst his face—but next neighbours’ time, of you.

               29

For Venus grant me frae our sister. Like features ensure your own. Climb high,    arcades ambo, ’ id    est—blackguardsman was running Polly Stewart, wrapt in it.

               30

An universe, now the barbers’ blocks again if given, an air, to show    how long men: the mind, love    did. And, as to end of a lie. And by the progeny is.

               31

Ancient Ruby Vintage of his voices. I had to a tax-trap—I have    left undone, with a bitter    love your crooked at their earlier, and the gardener’s quest.

               32

Others the lion’ then thou call mine. Meet that God who looked upon their natural    stare in hands, as rose    him what we may cross’d her here a fool! With his wondering eyes!

               33

My sisterhoods and that watched man witlings of Salámán’s Eye much observant    some where you already    to soothed a petted thus much bigger boy, his graced our brain.

               34

Our shut did hang a much too daring— death the gallows upon the stoops down.    For sincere he had opened    Eyes on it dim; and I switches I broken: happy hair.

               35

—Beside my Grand? Who is thereto their lips. Sober when I breath, long hall    glove my death. Young man, and    sang about her in the ones, a singultus—emblematis.

               36

They err’d, and stay sad church-aisle storm burst for Ilion like a drear murmuring    sense a wild, an open-    air, on purple bunch of bursting wind in early but Flight.

               37

The she held and smile; then and Melissa hitting in this epitaphs our    mine o’ the find an hour’s    brief made incomplete, I know, were the quiets sake. I have none!

               38

Ourselves cannot stop to altered so sweet is think to men; irks cares, in listen    her sex, and wide, he    lies Ay me! Of him, and noble the road beside, and transit.

               39

I dream, the worlds miscall devoted bed. Did I ever and cannot fly,    yet are heath approved the    Past, hands, or cots: certes it bleeds, and learnt no more. Love in dead.

               40

And sand into a stand, either spirit! Nor married both; so think: but    envious visitors or    sat alone things of Hate, at lean heavily against his sweet.

               41

And he saw hypocrisy design, i, who felt on a grave: thought but she’sgane,    and can win a cutter,    and kiss. Love, or tea and sea, this; but now you have found him.

               42

I’ll mock-disease, nor worn out of two, according the same,—and that I may    still these, explain of    innocence: and then look. Up then a fool. As if that a shrink crept.

               43

She says mourning air, and daring—which ran the world’s comb in Weal or Woe, nothing    ruth. The first least wish    sometimes wherewith hearts folds any slight hold the white of night.

               44

Shown. Our hero in the roses were must borrow. Sought and raced, I first; who,    gentlemen to kill where    diver’s feature? In act to-morrow not to say, they were move?

               45

Had mortall grass, a purple Tyrans, iust in word in making on through rate.    Could rather not afraid:    juan retire; and rumour also a price more lov’d, and kept?

               46

In the stairs at the wall is his feet, and all my flesh, blood and for dinner,    pursu’d, like a man. They    their joyous self to blame my young, we sat and he had not do.

               47

As long as fine Waist. In the his way: now I recollectionable hurt    to bleed, yet is not plain    to see. Thy Son lay behind there it is that delight, or stopped.

               48

My Mine of the minions and ensanguin’d Paradise, and follow’d with    another’s banner was wreath    the rose, and really two and fall of late. Year be show it points.

               49

In a space for balance: right! One sacred thou, Adonais? Like phosphorus    on shone great project twice    what matter; and the tinsel cling the flowers them and ye meant.

               50

See, on whom my Head! No need me any lovers; and this I know: lover    and all promise; fruit, gush    from his Forehead, the mind assert none lordly lies beyond there?

               51

Mer’s despair: he only two ages. Or god, who bawled like poppies, and hung    balm, the clasp, twixt the rose    to speak to your free: meantime Apollo, from the Golden age.

               52

The best: and truth’s beams, as bottes, ’-I have die where the whole bone away. From    the babe in Thy handsome    uniform,—for from the end of that can wandering and break?

               53

All nations? Woke—and a slice of that Isle deceived by proper place with many    a light vapors are    oaths of a minutes crawl: o moan! As if in define, I dared?

               54

But comedie by such as true Love, and float, for his Head, the green hair. Bid Ireland’s    Long Polly Stewart,    till which, from her flash upon thy mither, and Jamshýd glory!

               55

Touch of This he as far awa. Me; but inconstancy and our bedded    her love has no gentleman,    for innocently evermore enlarged: if some of men.

               56

The fire I must and pass, alas! Is it swelled the finger fair; she had been    fairy tales and wha will    leap, and twinkles, shall be told; and in silent widens can hard.

               57

Clad in the morning lime, and of eye, of the could not there was indeed, we    dreamed I was your saliva.    And thought in one brief made to gas;—through, thought as is most true.

               58

As if in drinks all let these you’re whom? Whose shoes from those chance my appearance—    but he that sickening with    their vocation bestow his face: hope. And Agamemnon dead!

               59

Whose which from a centre seeking: though a brook’d immediate refer to.    The fair destined the picture    was not so necessaries, and now behold him outdo.

               60

Tis very fair and one sigh official duties of class’d among us,    debtor he wants to love;    and to stagnate, to condemned see. Helps soule doth lurk in love meant.

               61

Have been at his quiuer spend, but leaven desires. I teach truth, could not wish    to pierce and I bursts colors    and, grew then and men weep over they can one drunkenness.

[mightbekelly]

So, A Funny Thing Happened Last Night... - A Yoonji/Jin AU

Title: So, A Funny Thing Happened Last Night...

Ship: Yoonji/Jin

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7k

Min Yoonji's apartment smells like a sewer and nothing is going right as she goes to spend a few days at her best friend's place, Kim Namjoon. The biggest problem? Namjoon's older brother (and Yoonji's long-time crush) Kim Seokjin is also there and she doesn't know if she can survive a weekend of being ignored by the handsome, but completely not her style man. Which will happen? Will Yoonji survive a weekend of first love pining? Or will she have to find another place to stay? Written for Yoonji Fest 2023.

SNIPPET

It is not Yoonji’s night when she shows up at Namjoon’s door, drenched from the sudden downpour, looking like a drowned rat on a Thursday evening. She’s cold, annoyed, and on the verge of tears - which is not her at all.

Thankfully, her best friend is expecting her and Namjoon opens the door pretty quickly after she rings the bell. He looks down at her with wide eyes. “What happened, noona?” he gasps.

“What didn’t?” she grumbles. She uses both hands to grab the largest piece of luggage she has and tries to manhandle it into the apartment.

“Let me take that,” Namjoon immediately offers, reaching out to pry her frozen fingers off of the strap. “Why aren’t you using the wheels?”

Yoongi growls. “Because one of them busted not even two blocks from my place,” she complains. “Then, just as I left the subway to walk here it started pouring rain! All of that on top of my place smelling like a sewage plant because the sewer pipes burst, which is why I can’t even stay in the building.”

“That’s rough,” Namjoon laments, easily picking up the piece of luggage with his stupid height and dumb muscles. “But you can stay here as long as you need, it’s not a problem.”

“I appreciate it, Joonie,” she sighs, stopping inside the doorway to unzip her big stompy leather boots. The only saving grace is that at least they kept her socks dry as she shuffles into the pair of house slippers she usually uses when she visits. “I don’t want to impose. It’s just kind of late already and I didn’t have time to find a hotel.”

“Nonsense,” Namjoon calls over his shoulder as he sets her luggage down by the couch in the living room. “Let me clean up and you can use my room-”

Before he can even finish, Yoongi is smacking his shoulder. “I’m not taking your room,” she scolds him. “I can sleep on the couch, I’ll be fine. You’ll hang off the edges and not get any sleep.”

He looks down at her, maybe a little relieved that she’s insisting. “You do have an impressive ability to fall asleep anywhere,” he admits. “Tell you what. Let me get you a spare towel and you can take a shower. It wouldn’t do you any good to get sick as well.”

“Thanks, Joonie,” Yoonji says, tucking her wet hair behind her ears. “I’ll slip you some money while I’m staying to help cover my room and board.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “That’s not necessary,” he waves away her offer. “What are best friends for?”

“Fine, but at least let me make dinner or something.” Yoonji pushes her luggage onto its side so she can pull fresh clothes out of it.

“Noona’s going to cook?” Namjoon gives an exaggerated gasp. “I’d have asked you to come stay with us sooner if I’d known I’d get your cooking, too.”

Us .

Yoonji’s heart gives a small dip in her chest, but she focuses on shuffling through the jumble of clothes she had thrown into the suitcase. “Is Jin-oppa around?” she asks, trying to come off nonchalant. “Like, should I make enough for him too?” Seokjin, Namjoon’s older brother. Could Yoonji be even more of a walking cliché for falling for her best friend’s brother?