#a piece about how grateful I am to recover

[littlestpersimmon]

This Too Shall Pass

[corpseontheloose]

Reflections ── .✦

Pairing: Nam-gyu x f!reader

Summary: Nam-gyu meets a person who reminds him of what he was like before he got better.

Warnings: drug addiction (the reader), minor death situation, post!squid games.

A/N: I'm so tired of stoner Nam-gyuuuu, let's change the plot for a bit ;] also this is inspired by Reflections by The Neighborhood. Also C/A means cat's name!! <3

Nam-gyu had survived the games. How? It's unknown, really. Even he was amazed by how he escaped the hell and returned home with billions in his bank account.

He didn't want to admit, not even to himself, but he was grateful for still being alive after all of that. Maybe it was the drugs that ruled his veins and kicked his survival instincts in order to get out in one piece, but it worked in his favor!!

He did quit his job spontaneously.

But did he stop his addiction after? Hardly.

He was a billionaire, for God's sake; of course he wouldn't stay to the side when alcohol and drugs were involved.

He felt like the drugs were a way to grieve and honor Thanos. A lame excuse to cover the fact that he was an addicted junkie.

Until it almost killed him. Twice, on the same night.

He didn't have any motivation to get better. Parents disowned him, friends are just people he knows from the club mostly (and can't even be named friends), he didn't have a lover, and he didn't even care about himself at this point.

Although... it was a shame to see all the funds go into disposable syringes and colored pills when he could've bought a new house. A huge one. And live the best life without fucking himself up.

It was hard to end an addiction, especially because, even after he quit his club job, he would still spend his nights there as a customer. So he was surrounded with everything that fed into his dependencies and made him break his clean streak he was keeping in his 'I Am Sober' app.

A new week, a new 'restart countdown' button was pressed.

He couldn't put the blame on himself though.. It was the withdrawal that was pushing him from behind.

He genuinely wanted to get better.

So, naturally, after beating himself up over the embarrassment and the self-image of a wimp, he sought professional help.

So he looked for the best rehab. The most expensive. Just because he REALLY wanted to get better. And he didn't want to spend the usual time of 3-6 weeks in there; he wanted to stay as much as it took until he became disgusted at the sight of substances.

And he did.

He stayed there for 6-7 month-is? Just because the withdrawals were bad. Extremely bad. And the urge was huge.

Although he didn't think he was recovered completely, he felt confident enough to step foot outside and promised himself he'd never have to come back between those walls ever again.

One year later, Nam-gyu was a changed man. He lived in a humble apartment with not-cheap-but-not-expensive-furniture and a small hamster.

He was better. A lot better.

So one day, when he was taking his weekly trip to the grocery store to fill up his fridge, he spotted you in the bus station.

You were picking at your hoodie's sleeves, agitated as you waited for the same bus as Nam-gyu.

He didn't know you, but he could recognize the face of an addict whenever he saw one.

The worst part is that you weren't even dirty or didn't even look homeless to put a label on you and a reason for your addiction. You were just lost.

You looked like you just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

And also a bit injured, like you fought someone and they fought back.

The bus stopped in the station, and you sat up quickly, passing Nam-gyu in a rush to find a seat and sink into it.

Your perfume lingered in his nostrils for a second. It was the sweetest perfume he ever smelled.

He never saw you again ever since.

Until one week later, you were practically crouching in the bushes as you waited for the bus again.

Ironically, Nam-gyu was there as well, waiting for the same car.

You didn't recognize him—you were too busy feeding a small kitten that hid in there—However, he recognized you.

You looked high. But you also looked like you've been crying for the past few minutes, too.

He couldn't understand what your deal was and why you turned to the drugs. A beautiful face like yours could easily break from the substances. But his heart stirred in his chest when he saw the kindness you were offering to a small being and even missing the bus because of it, because now Nam-gyu was watching you through the window of the car as thoughts weighed against his mind.

He hasn't seen you again ever since. But there was always cat food between the bushes of the bus station.

And he knew you were the reason the bowls were filled.

He took this mental responsibility to make sure you were still alive, even if you didn't know him personally. You bringing kitty food every day and night to the kitten and its mama was proof enough that you were okay.

And one day, your world shattered on a random morning as you made your way to the kitten's crib.

The mama cat laid there, lifeless, with what looked like stone injuries.

You were high, but you didn't lack sympathy.

At that moment Nam-gyu was passing as well. He took a glimpse at the familiar figure in the bushes just to see you sobbing as you scattered flowers over the cat's body.

That broke his heart.

You tried your best to fight your high because now, as impulsive as it seemed, you hooked up the baby kitten in your arms and ran towards the bus station.

Your face was damp with tears, but the kitten kept meowing and biting at your finger, which made you smile.

Nam-gyu looked at you. He allowed himself to stare at this point.

You found it intimidating. It was maybe the drugs too that made you feel uneasy under his eyes, or the fact that you looked like a crying mess.

He spoke.

"Will you take it home?"

You nodded slowly, cradling the kitten better so he wouldn't take it away from you.

"I saw the cat... Kids these days don't know what politeness is."

You nodded again.

You didn't feel like making conversation, especially because you were on drugs and you'd babble the words awkwardly, so it's better for you to just shut your mouth for now.

He has started seeing you more often lately. Not because you were in the bus station, but because he wanted to have a drink or two every now and then.

And the club he used to work at had just the things.

You looked different throughout the nights. You weren't wearing your usual hoodie and sneakers combo; you dressed up nicely and looked like a totally different person.

He watched you. Not in a creepy way, more of a 'trying to keep you safe' way.

You were drugging yourself with hardcore drugs, something that confused the both of you on how your body resisted that kind of toxicity.

Every night you wore a different outfit. And you looked damn good in it, too.

But the drugs pulled you into alleys, and the alleys were full of people who had business with you... physically.

He knew if he didn't put a stop to that, you'll end up like him a year ago.

He didn't know why he felt obligated to protect you; he just found himself thinking about you during nights in his apartment.

Maybe it was the guilt and pity he felt towards you and towards himself, knowing how bad the substances made him reach his breaking point.

He didn't want that for you. You had a reason to live. You had a cat that you loved dearly.

On top of that, you were kind and selfless. Maybe you couldn't tell, but he could.

So one night he dragged you to the side. You couldn't see his face properly, and instinctively, you try to get away.

You put your palms over your face and mumbled stuff like "I'll bring your pills tomorrow" or "Please don't hurt me."

"What?—Here,okay,listen. I'm not here to hurt you, okay? Do you not remember me?"

You looked at him before shaking your head no, groaning slightly.

He nodded slowly before running a hand through his hair. "Okay, well—that's okay. I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to help."

You were understanding his words; you just didn't process the whole thing.

"Help how? I don't need help."

"You're a mess. You have bruises all over your arms, and your irises are practically nonexistent."

"So? I just want to live a little; I can't stay at home and do boring stuff. There's no one there other than me."

He looked at you before biting his lip for a moment.

"You have a cat."

You looked at him puzzled. How did he know?

"And I'm sure you both love each other very much, so...think about how it'd feel if you didn't come home because you were too beaten up in the back of a club."

"Mmm, well, I don't think C/N would like that..."

You tried to cling to the wall as you closed your eyes and let yourself slide down on it. The world felt like it was sucking you up.

"See? So why don't you go home for now?"

You shook your head again, your cheek softly hitting the wall you were leaning onto.

"I want to feel alive again..."

"And do substances make you feel that?"

You nodded. Well, this was gonna be harder than he thought.

For the past months, Nam-gyu took you under his wing. You became friends, and friends helped each other, right?

But you were extremely stubborn. He didn't realize how hard it was for people to deal with him until he started experiencing it with you.

You started to rely on him. Had a fight? You'd call Nam-gyu. Needed comfort? You'd call Nam-gyu. Withdrawal? You'd call Nam-gyu.

You got high? You'd still call Nam-gyu.

He was always watching you like you were some sort of glass. Like he saw through you.

In reality, he just saw himself.

And he wanted to help that mirror become at least a contrast. Because addiction almost ended his life. Somehow he got lucky with the games, but that luck wasn't promised to everyone.

He helped you. He tried, but you kept breaking the promises and the sober streaks.

Fortunately for you, he didn't give up.

That's how you found yourself in his apartment, patching up your fresh syringe marks.

"Why are you doing this?" You muffled your words with a sleeve against your lips.

He just looked at the patch before sighing softly.

"I'm your friend. That's what friends are for."

You just quietly sobbed, nodding slightly at his words.

Those were the good, quiet nights. The loud ones would be whenever you couldn't handle your high, so you had to fight against Nam-gyu and his yells.

You yelled back, you weren't scared.

"I don't need your help, Nam-gyu! I'm doing very fine!"

He would always protest, telling you how worn out you looked and how your features were being destroyed.

He loved your hair; he couldn't stand the thought of it falling apart because of some substances.

"You're killing yourself!"

"So what if I am, Nam-gyu? Why would you care that much anyways? Mind your own busin—"

But he didn't expect to be so sensitive about this topic.

"Because I see my reflection in your eyes, dumbass!"

You fell silent.

"I—I can see you, but it's like... With you, you're also carrying my old self that I fought so, so hard to change. I can't let you destroy yourself. Not like I did."

From that day you started being more considerate about him. You stopped caring only about your high and replaced it with his worry for you.

Whenever someone offered you pills, you'd see Nam-gyu's face in the back of your mind. That pulled you away.

You spent your days more often at his apartment, and he'd come to yours from time to time, too. You just didn't want to be alone. You couldn't trust yourself with the privilege of being on your own.

He loved C/N.

Withdrawals were messy, but he found a way to calm down your nerves. It took some time to find just the thingies, but they worked, and that's what matters.

[entitled-fangirl]

Foolish.

Gwayne Hightower x reader

Summary: Gwayne’s wife feels self conscious after birthing their daughter.

Warning: body image issues, smut mention towards the end (there’s not smut but like there is so 18+ please)

A/n: based on an ask from forever ago!!

Masterlist

………………………………………

It had been almost five months at this point, and Gwayne was beginning to worry.

Her body had given him a precious little girl, and he wanted to praise her endlessly for it. Her recovery had went smoothly to his knowledge, no tears or aches from it at this point, and still he wondered why she had not initiated anything with him.

She was most likely skittish. She always had been skittish about this stuff, but he had hoped that she was not regretting their actions now that they had the consequences.

He sat in his solar, his mind plagued by all of these thoughts.

He scribbled at the papers but his mind was entirely elsewhere, and by the time he had to restart a letter for the third time, he gave up. Tossing the pen aside, he stretched out his aching shoulders and legs as he stood up to address the problem itself.

…

Y/n Hightower walked around the room, the babe rested securely in her arms as she swayed.

Her lips pulled up as she admired the babe. The spitting image of her father. Bright fiery hair to match the deep blue irises of her eyes. She was a sight to behold.

But it made her thoughts shift back to Gwayne. And immediately an unease of guilt came with it.

Five months she'd put it all off. The conversation. The rejection she knew she'd receive if she tried.

Before the birth, and before the pregnancy at all, Gwayne had proudly shown off his wife like a prized possession- a perfect thing that would make even the most well off lord jealous. He adored her with everything he had and he was happy to do so.

So pregnancy felt like a death sentence.

If she were to even live, how could Gwayne show off a woman with the scars and marks that she now was marred with?

She had lived, and now she bore the remnants of what their daughter had left behind. Marks of her body stretching, a loosening in her skin, her bones in her hips occasionally requiring attention. She had indeed recovered but she was not as she was before.

And she knew Gwayne would notice it soon.

"And how is our precious gift?" His voice echoed in the room when he stepped in. His hands were held behind his back, a sway to his steps.

"Oh," she sighed. "She's wonderful. Sleeping soundly."

Gwayne stepped behind her, his arms wrapping around her frame. She inwardly cringed. She was so scared of his mind in this moment.

But whatever she worried he may have noticed, he paid no real attention to.

He leaned over her shoulder to kiss her cheek, peering down at the babe. "She is comfortable with you. She knows how safe you are. I believe she feels what I feel."

The woman's brows furrowed. "And what's that?"

His voice whispered in her ear, "That you are the most wondrous woman in the realm, and she and I am grateful for you."

Just like the compliments he used to pay her. It's almost as if nothing changed. But she knew things had changed. So much had changed. It was eating at her.

That, and his wandering hands over her hips.

"Gwayne," she gently chided like she always did when he'd grow handsy.

"Why not? Why can't I enjoy my wife's beauty for a moment?" Hopefully he'd finally get an answer to her avoidance of him.

"You know what I'll say."

He sighed. He did know what she always said. 'Not today.' Not today felt more like a promise to 'Never again.' He hated to push like this, but he was getting nothing to help mend the bond, and he'd do anything to save it.

"You've been feeling well. The babe is asleep. We'll stop when you wish." He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I just want to admire my wife."

"You don't.”

Her answer was so swift. So sure. She fully believed that he didn't want to admire her pretty form.

"I do," he argued in confusion. He now stepped around to look her in the eye. "I promise you that I do. Why would I lie?"

Her eyes avoided his like hiding a deep secret. She used the babe like a shield, keeping her attention on the young child in hopes that Gwayne would drop the issue.

"Love?" He tried as he head tilted down to catch her eye.

It worked, and her pupils fixed on his. "It's complicated."

"It's not," he reasoned. "There is nothing complicated for us. We love each other about all else." A thought came over him. "Don't we?"

"We… we do," she drew out, almost like a question.

He was growing frustrated. "Please. Lay the babe down so we may discuss something of importance."

"Gwayne-"

"-Do as I say." It was a snap, one that Gwayne had never done to her. Not like that. Usually it was with a teasing grin or a kind smile. This one was of expectance.

She knew this was the conversation she had been putting off.

His rejection of her.

He knew this was the conversation he had been putting off.

Her rejection of him.

The two lovers felt the air around them grow cold as they simply stared at one another. How horrid it felt to be unwanted.

Gwayne was a merciful man. She knew that he'd have the heart to send her back to her father if this is how it would go.

But a life away from her child would be torture.

The destruction of her body. All for what?

"Alright," she mouthed, for no breath came from her lips.

With shaking hands, she placed the babe in the small bed Gwayne had spent the time to fashion himself. She recalled the curses he strung together when he had gained a rather deep splinter and she was the one to pluck it from his skin. And the night they spent after that. Seemed Gwayne liked to be taken care of quite a lot.

But she forced it from her mind. Now was not the time to reminisce.

When she turned from the crib, she saw the tears that pricked at her husband's eyes.

And how her heart screamed.

"Let us retire," he softly suggested. "I'll have someone look after her. Come." He held his hand out.

She took it, though it felt right, she began to question if it truly was.

The walk to their chamber was silent. But it spoke volumes.

Once inside, Gwayne didn't want to wait longer. "Your mind is so plagued. I wish you'd speak."

"Was is there for me to say? You're the one." Her voice quivered at her last declaration, "Just do it. Send me away.”

"Wh-Why would I do such a thing?" He asked in a horrified tone. How could she even think he would let something like that happen? His wife. His bright light.

"Don't pretend you haven't noticed it all, Gwayne. You're wise. You've seen the changes in me. I'm not the same prize you once had."

"Prize? What are you talking about? You're my wife."

"DO NOT PRETEND YOU HAVE NOT NOTICED IT ALL, GWAYNE!" She shouted at him. "I'm different now. And if you do not love me anymore, just say so!"

Gwayne merely gawked. Even if he tried to form words, nothing would have left his throat. Did she really think that? His blue eyes stared at her in confusion.

"Gwayne," she whined. She wrapped her arms around herself. "Say something. Please."

"W- You- I…" He stopped to regain his bearings, taking a deep breath. "I love you."

Her brows furrowed a bit. "You do?"

"Yes!" He almost shouted on accident. "Yes. Of course I do. And you…?"

Now the confusion turned to her. "I… I love you more than anything," she stated as if obvious and he was a fool for questioning so.

His head quirked to the side, then an amused scoff from his lips. His hands found their way to his hips. "Then what are we fighting over?"

"I've changed."

"In what ways?" He challenged.

"Well," her arms gave an over exaggerated shrug, like he should already know what she meant. When his stare continued, she huffed. "Just… my body is different."

"You've recovered well. Haven't you?" What started out as a statement turned to a worried question.

"As much as I can," she remarked. Her self consciousness was showing once again. She wished she didn't have to spell it out for him.

Gwayne's hand reached out to her hip, tugging her lightly to him. It was comfortable. It was normal. He had done it a million times before. "It seems the only fight happening at this moment is the one in your mind." He brushed another stray here from her cheek. "Tell me what fills that head of yours."

Her voice was a whisper as she looked at her husband. "I only think of you."

"And our little girl," he said with a quirk of his lips. "So tell me what thoughts you have of me."

"My body has changed too much for us to be as we were. You'd be so unhappy."

The thumb that was caressing the woman's hip bone paused. "All this because you believe I'd be unhappy with your body? Answer me."

A curt nod.

"You-" He sighed and brought a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I had a bath set up but I think you need it far more than I. C'mon."

The copper tub sat on the other side of their room. He had ordered a servant to do so prior to him leaving his solar, and that had been a little while ago now that he thought about it.

When he tried to gently push her in that direction, she took offense. "What are you saying, Gwayne?"

"Love, I just meant… " he sighed, "Get in the tub.”

Even when frustrated, Gwayne had never led her astray and she hoped it would be the same now. She stepped to the tub, dipping her hand in to find that it was not cold. A decent temperature.

And when Gwayne went to pull at the laces of her dress, she panicked. "Wait!" She spun around to see his worried expression. Her hands grabbed his wrists. "I don't want to do this."

He frowned. "I've seen you bare before, my love. Many times," he remarked, a grin on his face when her cheeks flushed. "C'mon. Do this one thing for me."

"Was giving you a child not enough?" She sassed back.

He scoffed. "Love. You know what I mean. Let me wash you."

She studied him for a minute. "Fine."

Turning her back around, Gwayne unlaced her bodice and slowly helped her undress. As soon as her soft skin came to his view, he placed soft kisses on her shoulder and up her neck.

The sight of her shift falling to the ground made her stomach twist.

Gwayne knew her so well. Her hands came up to cover herself, but he caught her wrists quickly. He nipped behind her ear. "Get in."

He helped her in, kneeling down at the side of the tub. He took extra care to not look at her body in the water in respect to her. At least for now. His gaze stuck to her face and shoulders. "You foolish girl," he teased sweetly, His fingers grazed over her cheek. "Do you truly believe I'd leave you because your body gave me a child? Hardly. Hardly, woman."

She leaned into his touch.

"May I wash you?" He asked softly.

Her bottom lip tucked between her teeth in thought. A nod.

"Alright." He pulled himself around the tub to kneel behind her, pulling her hair over her shoulder to expose her shoulders and back. When his fingers ran down her shoulder, a shiver moved down her spine, making him smirk. "I dare to say that you've missed my touch."

"I think I have," she admitted.

Gwayne's rough hands handled her gently, rubbing the soap over her arms and shoulders gently before pausing on her chest. A silent question was on the tip of his tongue.

Her head leaning back. That was an answer.

His hand ran over her breasts and he took note of the way her breath caught each time. Swollen with milk for their daughter. It's true that that was different than before, but Gwayne loved it. "So pretty," he muttered under his breath.

His hands moved lower, moving down her stomach and over the small stretch marks across the skin there. He didn't pause. Didn't falter. He continued as if he didn't even notice them at all. He carefully washed her, taking his time and being extra gentle, muttering praises under his breath.

Lastly, his hand ran down the inside of her thigh, moving up to gently graze over her clit. She jumped, but a little groan came from her throat. She grabbed his wrist. "I need you."

Oh how those words affected him.

…

A few hours later, Gwayne massaged the oil onto her shoulders gently, pressing his thumbs into her shoulder blades in a relaxing way. He had massaged all of her at this point, and she was barely awake, the massage and the past few orgasms leaving her out of it.

He kissed her head with a grin. "Thank you, my sweet lady wife. For everything."

She only hummed.

How foolish of them to ever doubt each other.

…………………………………..

[double-faced-spectre]

Simon didn’t want commitment, but he couldn’t stop visiting you. You and his daughter.

Part 1

Simon didn’t linger after he found out you were both okay and recovering after the delivery. He didn’t think it would go over well after the long and painful ordeal you had just been through, so he cut his losses, paid for your hospital stay and medicines, and fucked off. But that didn’t mean he had left you two alone again. No, this time he retreated to bide his time, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Leaving the hospital was difficult. You were still very much in pain and your daughter didn’t like the cold. She was thankfully a pretty quiet baby who cried only when she was hungry. Still, the first week home was horrible. You were up all night coddling your daughter and your stitches healed slowly, still leaking blood sluggishly. She wanted to be fed all the time and you were scared she was going to chew your nipples off with her enthusiasm. 

You were out of resources. Diapers were running low and your fridge was bare. Going out into the world with a newborn strapped to your chest and looking like you hadn’t showered in a week was the last thing you wanted to do, but you sucked it up and did it anyway. However, when you opened your front door, your daughter drooling on your shoulder, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There, slightly sagging on your doormat, was a brown paper bag filled to the brim with groceries. A large pack of Pampers, a new pacifier, piles of frozen dinners, baby food, and some fresh fruit. Just about everything you needed to get from the store was sitting on your doorstep, innocuously slumped against the wall. Deep down, you knew who left it there. You didn’t have any family in the area and you weren’t close enough to anyone to call them a friend. That meant there was only one person who was insane enough to track you down and leave groceries on your doorstep.

A large part of you wanted to kick it aside and go out and buy it yourself. Your pride almost didn’t let you accept help, especially from the person who was partially responsible for the state that you were in. But your daughter’s little fist curling around a piece of your hair was your undoing. No matter how much it hurt, you leaned down and picked up the bag, because regardless of how it made you feel, you were low on money, energy, and resources and every little thing counts.

Sadly, that was not the first time you had to begrudgingly accept Simon’s help. A car full of gas, packets of medicine and vitamins, and once, an entire baby blanket. The gestures slowly chipped away at your heart, but the fact remained that if Simon really wanted to be involved, he had your number and knew where you lived. A knock on the door or even a simple text would have shown he cared more. You seethed silently as you covered your daughter in the blanket that he dropped off, getting angrier the more you thought about it. Your job, no matter how shit, gave you paid maternity leave, so you could afford all this stuff. You had a car to take you to the grocery store. No, the biggest problem you had -  your greatest lack - was loneliness.

A/N: This is only the second piece of writing I have ever posted and I thank you for all the love you showed my first one. I am truly grateful.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Once More, An Evil From Which You Can't Return Part 2: Jude Jazza Chapter

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

I lost my memories and was feeling down about it…..

Every time I experienced the kindness of everyone at Crown, I felt more and more that things couldn't continue like this.

Kate: I can't stay depressed like this forever, so I'm going to try to actively recover my memories.

Kate: So…. I want everyone to try as much as possible to behave the same way they did before I lost my memories.

(If I continue to live the same life, eat the same foods, go to the same places as before...)

(Then just maybe I’ll recall something.)

—That was Roger’s suggestion.

Kate: I know it’s troublesome…but I’d really appreciate your help!

Victor: Kate….!!! How brave and commendable! Let’s all work together everyone!

Everyone in Crown nodded their heads in agreement, but it was still too early to feel relieved.

Jude:…..Fine, but I got somethin’ t’say.

(I knew it….I figured Jude would be the only one unwilling to cooperate…)

Jude: If ya say ya want thin’s like they were b’fore….

(...I'm sure I'll be subjected to some pretty nasty abuse or snide comments.)

Thinking that, I braced myself—

Jude: Then I’ll treat ya like a lover.

Kate: What….?

[Transitions to Common Room]

Kate: Jude…..are you sure this is correct?

Jude: Y’think I'm wrong? Yer gutsy.

Kate: ……

I want to say quite loudly that this is wrong.

Because right now….I am fearfully sitting on Jude’s lap.

This seems to be a part of what Jude was talking about as being treated like a lover.

Jude: ‘Fore ya lost yer memory, ya seemed happy t’get on it.

Kate: I…..don’t remember.

(Jude said he was my boyfriend.....is that really true?)

As I sat on his lap in confusion, he offered me a piece of chocolate.

Jude: Kate, open yer mouth.

Kate: Ah, yes……Hngh.

Jude: Tasty?

Kate: It’s tasty……

But what captivates me more than the sweet taste of chocolate is, the unusually soft smile on Jude’s face….

(Just what did I do before I lost my memory to make Jude turn out like this...?)

After that, Jude invites me out and takes me to his company, Raven Ltd.

Jude: Look familiar?

Kate: No, it doesn’t…..

Apparently as a fairytale keeper, I would visit this place when I had business with Ellis and Jude.

(I would wait for them to finish work, and then go back to Crown with them….)

But even with listening to such stories, I still can’t remember anything.

Jude: …….Well, ain’t like I had expectations.

His profile looked a bit lonely as he muttered, and my heart shook a little.

Jude: Wait ‘ere a bit.

Kate: Sure. Where are you going Jude…?

Jude: Work ‘course. This’s a business.

At that moment, a lively voice echoed from the other side of the hall...

Cheerful Young Man: Kaaaaaate!

Jude: Chat with that guy.

Kate: Huh? Wait, Jude.

As Jude leaves, a cheerful young man approaches.

Cheerful Young Man: Kate, I heard ya got amnesia, are ya okay?!

Kate: I’m sorry to worry you. Umm, what’s your name?

Theodore: Oh, sorry. I’m Theodore Walker, the most popular guy at Raven Ltd. Pleased to meet’cha.

Female Employee: Getting carried away a bit there aren’t you? Theo stop telling Kate lies.

Male Employee: If you don’t tell Kate the truth, won’t she be confused later?

(I wonder if Jude told all the employees I lost my memory?)

Kate: I'm sorry for causing so many people concern.….

Female Employee: I hope you can remember everything soon, Kate.

Male Employee: Once your memory returns, please come and help me with my work again.

Theodore: The prez’s mood’s like night ‘n day when yer not here Kate.

Kate: Is that so….?

Female Employee: It’s all thanks to you Kate, that the president’s attitude has softened a bit!

Theodore: Yeah, I’m INCREDIBLY grateful! I only report mistakes when yer there, Kate.

Theo’s story elicits laughter.

(Looks like before I lost my memories, I got along with the employees at Raven….)

At the same time, things that I hadn't quite believed before were starting to seem real, and my cheeks started to heat up slightly.

(I was shocked when he said he’d treat me as his lover, but maybe Jude and I really were lovers...)

Jude: Oy, whoever’s jabberin’ over there, can ya dash ‘n deliver these documents immediately?

Kate: I’ll go!

(I-I will?)

I reflexively raised my hand, and while the employees stared at me in amazement, Jude simply cracked a smile.

Jude: Leavin’ it to ya then.

Using the map he had drawn for me, I delivered the contracts safely and started to make my way back.

Man With Scarred Cheek: Hey, you Jude’s woman?

Kate: Who are y— !

It was then, that a bag was placed over my head…..

I lose consciousness along the way, and when I regain consciousness, I find myself inside a warehouse somewhere.

(The person who kidnapped me must have a grudge against Jude, right?)

I remember that he was hated by many people.

(What should I do now….?)

However, that worry was quickly alleviated.

Jude: …..G’mornin’, Princess.

Kate: What? Uh? I was kidnapped…..

Jude: This git?

Jude nudges the man lying at his feet with the tip of his shoe.

(He already took care of it…!)

Kate: Thank you for coming to help me, Jude.

Jude: …..

Jude gripped my chin and tilted it up.

Kate: Jude…?

Jude: Was it scary? That kinda thin’s a normal occurrence while datin’ me.

Kate: …..It was definitely scary when I was being kidnapped.

Kate: But….it felt like someone would come and help me.

Jude: Why dont’cha just remember who that someone is quick?

Kate: ………….

As I furrow my brow in thought, Jude quickly grew impatient and released my chin.

Jude: ….Well, never mind. Let’s head back.

Kate: ………….

My heart felt heavy because I couldn’t remember, and when I couldn’t take the hand extended to me, my hand was grabbed forcefully…..

On the way home, Jude held my hand the entire time.

[Master List] [Jude END]

Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @husbandosandladders @nawlink @justgiulia @vickietickie @greedyqueensfavourite @sharigax @belphiesleftpinkytoe @reimy1164 @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @goustmilk @kraiyne @midnightsrunaway

[bonus-links]

MY TIME HAS COME please discuss in great detail the GrooZeLink dynamics in prologue part 5. I am so intrigued by the stark differences between this shot:

And this shot:

The scar on triforce. The hiding. Please tell me everything there is to know

this is 4 u groozelinkers

why did i do text bubbles this way. how did anyone read this comic. god bless.

this is essentially Loft Monologues His Feelings The Update. It was very important to me that the audience understands where Loft's head is at from the get-go. and like listen, sometimes u have to have a bestie debrief even if ur bestie is a dormant sword spirit who can't talk to u. if bonus links was a musical this would be Loft's I want song lol

jokes aside I think Loft comes here to talk to Fi a lot. it makes him feel both better and worse

LOFTS FI IMPRESSION i feel like he used to do this a lot and thought it was so funny and every time Fi would be like. objectively that is not what i sound like. also, peep the textbox pattern!

even though Loft has trouble acclimating to life on the surface, it was important to me to show that it's not all like. angst and doom and gloom. But that's kind of the problem right? things are good, and he feels like this anyway. also I did my best to include most of the young adult skyloft npcs, I feel like the older one have mostly stayed up on Skyloft for now. LAKE TRIP!!

this is a direct reference to this shot from the game. this line of dialogue is an important thing to keep in mind. tbh the entire reason this comic exists is bc i thought too hard about the implications of skyward sword— what if you found out your girlfriend was really your god, who had orchestrated your entire life? wouldn't that make everything feel a little strange, even if you love her more than anything? much to think about

I like the scar through the triforce mark as a kind of symbolic gesture, but there's not really any intended meaning behind the two pieces of the triforce is goes through. feel free to interpret it however u like tho lol

AND THIS SHOT my headcanon is that Loft doesn't actually help much with the early building in Faron. It's partially because he can't- he pushes his body to the limit during his quest, and then completely crashes when it's over, and it takes a loooong time to even start recovering. He spends most of the time sleeping.

But it's also partially because he doesn't actually want to move to the surface. He wants to stay on Skyloft. In my mind it's like. he fought really hard to return to a state of normalcy that doesn't exist anymore, and that's hard to come to terms with. This is Zelda and Groose's project, and while he'll go along with it, he's not that enthusiastic about it. It's a source of tension in their relationship. Combined with Zelda often acting as a mouthpiece for the gods, it starts to grate on Loft that this aspect of his future has also apparently been decided.

tldr groozelink love each other a lot but things are definitely not perfect, and especially not right now

this is actually something I intended to get a little bit more into in ch2, but the chapter kind of. wrote itself away from it. every time I tried to include a scene with it, it felt too much like I was forcing characters to have too many heart-to-hearts too early. we'll get there eventually

this is an important update in the grand scheme of things :-) mystery mouseketool etc etc

[pixiecaps]

recapping a bit of what haru said on stream

haru on her stream spoke about how shes had a really awful past five years and all her experiences just from this past year has been incredible. she gave a massive thank you to everyone and that she has no regrets.

“i never imagined i’d be where i am right now and i mean it with all my heart thank you so much. i had a very good time and i hope to have made you guys happy.”

she mentioned that since she was young shes always wanted to make content that makes people happy because she felt the world was missing a lot of love so shes happy to have given the world a piece of her heart. she mentioned how shes met so many incredible people who motivated her to see the good parts of life. to have found even this little bit of sunshine has left her so grateful. she says thank you for all the kindness, all the moments, all the memories, all the words, everything. shes very happy and mentioned this has been a very special experience for her. she reminded her chat that theres always another day and to enjoy life to the maximum, to live, to love, to talk, to hug each other, to be happy always, and that all the beautiful happiness we’ve given her will be returned back to us. she continues to express her gratitude. she mentioned this is one of the most beautiful communities shes ever had the pleasure of meeting in the entire world. she goes on to include the spanish, portuguese, french, english, german, and korean community in that statement.

“there is love in all types of languages and that love needs to be shared.“

she said her words will never be enough to express all her gratitude. she gave a reminder to always keep being kind. her voice falters a couple times from all the emotions. she mentioned shes cried enough and didn’t want to keep crying since she had something to do tomorrow and she didnt wanna have swollen eyes lmao.

she then shares a more personal moment. paraphrasing here.

“after i lost my dad i swear i felt like my life was falling apart. i never thought i’d be able to recover. after that many things happened and in those things, i wasnt destined to meet two people, this is a story i’ll always remember because i wasnt destined to meet these people. … they tell me hey the actor for this little thing didn’t show up and i say no way seriously? tell them to let me be it, tell them please because i want to be with you guys (harus two friends who were apart of the project). and i didnt think they’d agree… and they said yes. and i met two very important people and honestly (starts crying) thank you so much. thank you so much nussa. thanks to you i was able to meet them. i never imagined this would happen i promise you. thank you nussa. it means a lot to me that you decided to put me (into the leo spot). the only major thing in my life, i started being so happy, i started enjoying all the moments in my life as if it were the last, thanks to all this i’m here. and could meet you all. such a beautiful community.” she goes on to keep thanking nussa while crying and saying it was written in the stars. she goes on to say that shes gonna tell this as a story some day to her family, who doesnt know what she does or that she streams, and she’ll tell them about all of this with so much care and love. shes very thankful to have learned so much english and more about so many different cultures. she again reiterates shes very happy.

she also teases that she wants to go to brazil!!!! which… might be soon… and that theres little things being planned so hopefully if all goes well…👀 (an egg admin meetup would go so hard)

NOW GO SUPPORT HER ON TWITCH @ HarumiVT

[astonmartinii]

a wonderful thing [mamma mia part five] | formula one social media au

drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso & jenson button

in this house babies are delivered in the rb8 not by a stork

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by jensonbutton, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,203,551

tagged: sebastianvettel, jensonbutton & fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername: welcome to the world florence mia alonso vettel button y/ln ✨ your name may be a mouthful but you’re our beautiful girl, i can’t wait to give you the world x

view all comments

user1: OH MY GOSH - wait so does she have all of their surnames as her last name?

mickschumacher: i’ve banned them from answering random questions so i will - the official last name is y/ln, with all the guys names as middle names! all three of them wanted flo to have y/n’s last name but a piece of them as well

user2: awww that’s so cute

user3: not her having a nickname already

kimiraikkonen: congratulations guys. i’m so happy for all of you, flo has the best parents she could ask for

yourusername: thank you kimi ☺️ xx

jensonbutton: thank you for everything kimi, mostly for being there to catch seb when he passed out 👍🏻

sebastianvettel: YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T TELL ANYONE YES I DID PASS OUT BUT IT MADE ME RESPECT WOMEN EVEN MORE I WAS NOT ASKING FOR MORE ATTENTION THAN Y/N WHO WAS LITERALLY GIVING BIRTH

jensonbutton: yeah i’m not reading all of that

yourusername: don’t worry seb i know you were just overwhelmed

sebastianvettel: NOT MORE THAN YOU I AM PROUD OF YOU

fernandoalo_oficial: when will you let this go… you’re just squeamish, it’s cute

user4: wait is she called mia after the mamma mia summer?

user5: that’s kind of hilarious

danielricciardo: ahhhhhhh she’s here !!!!! i can’t wait to meet flo and i hope everyone is recovering well xx p.s. max i shall swing round to your garage to pick up my £50 next race xoxo

yourusername: thank you danny x p.s. what did you bet on?

danielricciardo: NOTHING

maxverstappen1: he bet that seb would pass out during the birth 👍🏻

sebastianvettel: DANIEL?

yourusername: max?

maxverstappen1: i had faith seb

sebastianvettel: at least someone did

fernandoalo_oficial: she’s so beautiful she takes after her mama

yourusername: thank you nando ☺️ (it’s a good thing we did not do a paternity test, cause lord knows you’d all argue who gave what to flo)

sebastianvettel: well we ALL know she’ll have my impeccable manners

jensonbutton: and my unbelievable charm

fernandoalo_oficial: and lord knows she’ll never lose an argument on the playground, flo will have the alonso sass

yourusername: sounds like a winning combination if you throw in the patience of dealing with all three of you

sebastianvettel

liked by jensonbutton, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,348,445 others

sebastianvettel: beyond proud to be flo's dad and beyond grateful to y/n for letting me be a part of flo's and her life x

view all comments

user6: I AM SO SOFT

user7: holy moly look how small her hands are crying 😭 🥹

yourusername: i have no doubt you'll be just the dad flo needs

sebastianvettel: i'll try my best

yourusername: don't stress yourself out you're a natural so far

jensonbutton: he didn't even bat an eyelid when flo threw up all over him

fernandoalo_oficial: he only cried for about five minutes when flo first held his hand

user8: okay they're ganging up on seb @yourusername @mickschumacher @kimirakkonen spill the beans on the others please

yourusername: jenson was shaking so much that flo's name is barely legible on her birth certificate

yourusername: fernando was so excited about feeding flo for the first time on his own that he spilt half of the milk and then slipped in it (thankfully he'd already put flo down)

mickschumacher: fernando watched her sleep for so long that he physically got cramp and had to be carried to bed

kimiraikkonen: jenson had a 27 step plan to introduce flo and beckett and he was so nervous waiting for labour to start that he walked me through it THREE times

sebastianvettel: okay now i feel better

charles_leclerc: i am so so happy for you guys, i can't wait to meet her !!

yourusername: thank you charlie, turns out AUS23 is the perfect lullaby for flo, she falls asleep as soon as we turn it on

charles_leclerc: hopefully i can play the one i've written for her as soon as possible

sebastianvettel: charlie, i am so touched. i am glad to be called your grid dad

charles_leclerc: and now we're all crying

jensonbutton: i didn't know you could get any cuter, but you reading flo a book about flower classification melted my old man heart

fernandoalo_oficial: i caught him reading her your book and i won't lie i did cry a bit

yourusername: don't forget when he crawled around bumping into everything possible to check if it was "properly babyproofed"

sebastianvettel: when did we all become such saps?

jensonbutton

liked by sebastianvettel, estebanocon and 703,445 others

tagged: yourusername, charles_leclerc & maxverstappen1

jensonbutton: i didn't know that dad duties included comforting our crying 26 year olds as well as flo

view all comments

user11: someone sedate me i am so not normal about this

yourusername: i'd actually say that flo is better behaved than them

sebastianvettel: i agree

fernandoalo_oficial: i must say watching mad max cry his eyes out holding flo is one of my favourite things ever

jensonbutton: it pains me to say but they're so sweet

yourusername: fatherhood has softened you all

user12: they are never defeating the grid kid allegations i fear

user13: applying to be godfather when they're just the overgrown kids LMAO

charles_leclerc: acting like you guys didn't all bawl your eyes out when i played flo's lullaby :(

yourusername: you're right i did cry it was very beautiful charles, thank you

jensonbutton: it was very touching, you're a menace but a thoughtful menace

sebastianvettel: you make me proud to be called your grid dad :)

fernandoalo_oficial: it was a very kind gesture (you will need to pay me back somehow for now having to get a piano delivered? how does one get a piano through the door?)

charles_leclerc: NOW I'M CRYING AGAIN GOD I LOVE YOU GUYS

maxverstappen1: kids are my weakness !!! and mia is so so cute, thank you for having me :(

yourusername: you were great with her maxy, i know you doubted yourself but you're a natural !!

jensonbutton: you're always welcome at ours (though we don't have any more room for trophies, so take them home first)

fernandoalo_oficial: oh maxy, you're a big softy really. it's okay we can all cry on the flight to the next race

sebastianvettel: you're free to be as present as you wish with flo, and free to let us help heal your inner child :)

maxverstappen1: how are you guys all so good at being parents already?

user13: obsessed with max calling her mia when everyone else calls her flo

maxverstappen1: i love mia so much but i also love to remind her parents how they got into this situation

charles_leclerc: this is such a good point

jensonbutton: really? on a post about how much we love all three of you

user14: i'm crying over max being super nervous to hold flo and being assured by all of them (and maybe charles)

yourusername: oh they looked like an old married couple it was very cute

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by yourusername, lancestroll and 1,094,334 others

tagged: valterribottas, astonmartinf1

fernandoalo_oficial: my paternity leave came to an end wayyyy too fast, but thank you to y/n and seb and jenson for giving me the best present in the world. florence is the most precious girl in the world and there's nothing i won't do for her. for a long time i never thought i'd be a father or that i'd even find love, thank you for showing me that i can <3

view all comments

user15: user15 found dead, cause: fernando alonso being TOO FUCKING CUTE

valterribottas: fatherhood suits you

yourusername: did he show you all 200+ pics of flo

valterribottas: yes. multiple times

fernandoalo_oficial: I LOVE MY BABY OKAY

yourusername: we miss you already :( and we love you so much, you deserve this and more

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm so glad i went to greece this summer, i can't believe i nearly went to australia

aussiegrit: i'm so happy for you nando but you're literally bragging about ditching me :(

fernandoalo_oficial: sorry not sorry it was worth it

markwebber: you're such a mean girl . DON'T FORGET we ALL know i was your first love in f1

jensonbutton: you snooze you lose mark hold this L

aussiegrit: i'm literally married

sebastianvettel: tell that to all of your homoerotic tension with half of the grid

aussiegrit: the only thing i wanted to put near your ass is my FOOT

yourusername: okay clearly fatherhood has not completely softened all of you

user16: i see we took like a month to be responsible adults and now normal service is resumed

maxverstappen1: lestappen erasure once again and after you guys just proclaimed us as your children .... i see

charles_leclerc: youngest child being the favourite, some things never change

yourusername: yall finished projecting?

fernandoalo_oficial: you guys literally slept the entire flight? you would've bitten my head off if i had woken you up for anything other than getting off

charles_leclerc: nuh uh my instagram grind never stops

maxverstappen1: we want a feature on our only active grid dad's instagram SUE US

user17: fernando may be away from flo but he's never not on dad watch

sebastianvettel: don't miss us too much and bring home number 33

jensonbutton: i support you whole heartedly but we don't have the wall space for another trophy right now

fernandoalo_oficial: well get to chopping

yourusername: i have faith in you hence why i already got flo's baby hard hat out

user18: BABY HARD HAT???

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, mickschumacher and 1,415,099 others

tagged: sebastianvettel, jensonbutton & fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername: i felt really lost in my life this summer and decided to take a little trip to a greek island. there i met three great men, but knew it was likely that i'd never see them again. yet here we are, in love and with the biggest bundle of joy i could ever ask for. i love you all and can't wait for the rest of our lives.

view all comments

user23: bro why is MY ass crying i don't know these people but this is adorable and i'm so happy for you

alexalbon: this has been my favourite thing this year and i couldn't think of four better people to have this happiness

yourusername: thank you albono, we'll be visiting the zoo soon, flo is super attached to her horsey plush

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm so glad i met you and i'm so glad you let us in on this insane journey

yourusername: there's no one else i'd rather live through this chaos with

user24: i don't think there's anything like the mamma mia summer to bring the entire grid together

jensonbutton: being with you guys makes retirement the sweet life, i couldn't have asked for a better hand in life

yourusername: there's no other way i'd like to start my day than bagel runs with you

sebastianvettel: after i announced my retirement i thought i'd float around aimlessly trying to find another purpose in life. i don't know how we got to this but i wouldn't change it for the world, i love all three of you and florence so so so much

yourusername: i'm sure we can balance beekeeping with being a full-time dad

user25: flo having four parents who would do anything for her i'm so jealous

maxverstappen1: you guys are so precious, counting down the days until i see mia again

yourusername: respecting the commitment to using mia

maxverstappen1: you chose mia, right? you knew what you were doing

yourusername: sue me.

sebastianvettel: you knowingly named our daughter after mamma mia?

yourusername: how is it with the shoe on the other foot ??? at least mia isn't as obvious as BECKETT

jensonbutton: beckett is NOT OBVIOUS

fernandoalo_oficial: wait how did we not catch on???

yourusername: mia is a cute name !!!

sebastianvettel: maybe max and charles get their scheming from you

charles_leclerc: i do NOT SCHEME

yourusername: ummmmm sebastian your number one boy name was enzo... i may not know f1 but even i know that ENZO IS ENZO FERRARI YOU ARE NOT SLICK

sebastianvettel: damn tough crowd

user26: god i wish they publicised their arguments about naming like they did with the godfathers

user27: i just know those lists were heinous those men should not be allowed to name anything ever

fernandoalo_oficial: ummm actually i suggested florence

yourusername: we BOTH suggested florence

jensonbutton: i highlighted it first in the book

yourusername: NO YOU DIDN'T

sebastianvettel: i'm staying out of this one

user26: thanks for this little highlight reel 👍

note: AAHHHHHHHH PART FIVE i hope we are happy with the name choice, thank you for all of your amazing suggestions. i cannot remember who exactly suggested florence but i loved it so much esp cause flo is such a cute nickname !!! but also big shoutout to @evilsailorsenshi for the mia suggestion i had to make it a middle name to do the series justice x

do not fear this is not the end, i plan on following this lil family for a good while, so i hope this is a good fill of mamma mia content for now.

hopefully i got everyone on the taglist! - also, everyone who replied to my post about life, i am still getting back to people but thank you so much, i love this lil community so much !! please never be afraid to reach out to me if need be i'm always up for a chat!

taglist: taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa @tagteamedbitch@imagandom@mypage-myfandoms@mehrmonga@asparklysoul @unstableplant @motorsp0rt@multilovebot@lili-flower03 @its-elias-world @jolixtreesunn@nothingfuninthislife@rileynicol3@kodzuvk@mochimommy2002@fluffyspaceprincess@roseseraj@black-swan-blog27@nyrasslut@justdreamersdream@asfaraslifegets@why4anne@ineffableperson@leilanixx@lunyyx @pupbistro @gaypoetsblog@rafaaoli@champomiel@sadsierra2 @rainerax @lokietro @thecubanator2 @nzygftoji @rockyhayzkid @nmw-am @slytherheign @erikasurfer @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @greigreyhiyyih @duck-duck-goose-18 @dark-night-sky-99 @ironcowboycopnickel @sizzlingghostoperatorbagel @2bormaybenot @42ndbrokencompass @whotfisvale @lichterfee @sticksdoesart @glitterf1 @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see

[orangetintedglasses]

@forgivenpunishment // am i transmitting? is anyone listening? (x)

The next few days spent on the Home ship passed by… fairly slowly, after that first night. Their little celebration came and went, and while the two of them would be left alone for another day or so after that— likely being granted a reprieve to recover from everything, how generous of them —it wouldn't be too long before the buzzards began swarming. Tests, talks, check-ins… drawing blood and other samples from him, and dragging him out to be paraded around for everyone to coo and fawn over. Oh, Vash is back, Vash is safe, we're so happy Vash is home…

'Vash' loathed every second of it.

Being under the constant spotlight of attention like that, it was a damn miracle the doppelganger hadn't snapped at anyone yet— he'd come close quite a few times, but had managed to maintain that blithe, happy mask, and simply claimed that he was tired or still feeling physically weary from his stint of being imprisoned. That was enough for most people, and made them back off.

Failing that, though… he did have Wolfwood to rely on.

The blond had been making sure to cling to him; seeming a little more helpless than usual to prompt a reaction when he just didn't feel like dealing with it. And when it was a protective one— when Wolfwood stepped in when Vash claimed to be too tired or uncomfortable, willing to physically remove them both from the situation in any way, shape or form —he made a clear effort to reward his pet. Simple things like touch, kisses… and of course, pulling him into empty rooms, or even just around the bends of metal halls to steal a moment just for the two of them. It was a fairly effective system; helping him adapt to the less-pleasant aspects of contact while providing the undertaker with a solid distraction…

… so naturally, something had to go and spoil it.

On their fifth day there— when the charade was already wearing on his nerves —everyone seemed to be in a tizzy right from the word 'go'. Engineers, scientists, so many Sinners were coming and going every which way like Worms from a burning nest… all because one of the Plants had started acting strangely. The activity served to be… irritating— especially because it was clear people wanted to ask him to help deal with it, but were holding back because he was still recovering. One too many longing looks pissed him off, so he'd opted to wander around— to disappear from view and use the opportunity he had to test his limits. Just to see what he could get into, and what he couldn't.

As it turned out? There was quite a bit he could get into. Vash had a lot of permissions; these parasites trusted him that much that most machines just allowed him passage or entry into further systems. That could prove very useful down the line, if they were forced to stay trapped aboard this metal purgatory…

That would be about the only benefit that came from this development, though, and it was fairly short-lived, because on the morning of their sixth day, that same Plant began to sing… and that immediately came with problems, long before the suns were even up for the day. The song was grating, abrasive— it overloaded power sources, burst light fixtures, and short-circuited enough important pieces on-board that alarms began going off. It was a mess— and it was a mess that brought someone straight to their door, knocking loudly and shouting over the blaring sound that was pulling everyone out of bed.

"Vash? V-Vash, are you in there? Hello? It's urgent…!!"

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a person in possession of a good blorbo must be in want of art of that blorbo. And on this front, I have suffered because there is really no Háma art out there despite the fact that he’s rad. (I won’t bore you all again with all of the reasons why he’s the best, but you can find that here.) So I asked @rinthecap to draw me a lovely and handsome Háma, and they delivered in the best possible way!!! Here’s my guy, with a lot on his mind as he watches his king slowly lose his grip on reality, but always at the ready to jump into the fray and help.

I love ALL of Rincap’s art, which you should definitely all go check out if you haven’t, and am extremely grateful for this beautiful and necessary contribution to a world that was severely lacking in Háma representation! ♥️♥️♥️ His face, his armor, his hair, it’s all aces!

And here, for good measure, is my Háma headcanon:

His father was the royal armorer in Edoras, and his mother worked alongside him; he did the metal work, and she handled leather. Little Háma grew up around their workshop, playing quietly in the back or listening to his mother tell stories while she stitched together vambraces or gloves. As he got older, he helped his parents with simple tasks, like linking rings for chainmail. When a mailcoat he worked on saved Théoden from a Dunlendish arrow and the king himself came by to thank young Háma, he nearly burst with pride. He knew right then that he wanted to dedicate his life to protecting the king and made it his goal to be captain of his guard someday.

Háma’s father was severely injured in a workshop accident not long after, and everyone marveled at how quickly he apparently recovered and was able to keep turning out work. What they didn’t know is that Háma’s mother took over most of the business, having learned metal crafting over the many years of work alongside her husband. They didn’t tell anyone who was actually making the pieces because they weren’t sure anyone would wear armor made entirely by a woman, but Háma knew, of course, and it filled him with both pride and frustration to hear people heap praise on his mother’s work while attributing it all to his father.

While he was working his way up through the ranks of the guards, Háma met and fell in love with Bryttalif, a midwife in Edoras. Brytta was herself pregnant and unmarried when they met, so she was viewed as a little scandalous. But they hit it off right away and he really didn’t care about town gossip or what other people had to say because she was just the sort of kind and gentle-hearted person that he was. The scandal was eventually forgotten because Háma and Brytta got married, which gave the whole situation a sheen of acceptability. He adopted her daughter Halwinë as his own and was absolutely crazy about her–Middle Earth’s truest Girl Dad. Brytta was pregnant with their second child when Háma was killed at Helm’s Deep. It was a boy she named Wilspell (“welcome news”).

Háma’s sword was recovered from outside the gate of the Hornburg after his death and was thereafter always used by the captain of the king’s guard, being transferred from person to person as part of a little ceremony whenever a new captain was appointed.

He was buried in armor his mother made.

[dead-dolphins]

𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

Summary: In the hellish trenches of Marley, Eren is haunted by thoughts of Mikasa. Unable to resist, he finds himself touching himself as he stares at the mirage of her created by his mind.

Word Count: 1797

Read under cut.

Dear @juloved Happy Birthday, July! 🎉 I just want to take a moment to tell you how much your friendship means to me. You’ve been such an incredible source of support, always there to encourage and inspire me, no matter what. Your artistic vision is something truly special, and I’ve learned so much from you—not just about creativity, but about how to be a better friend and person. You bring so much light into the lives of everyone around you, and I’m so grateful to have you in mine. I hope this day is filled with all the love, joy, and magic you deserve.  Cheers to many more years of friendship, growth, and beautiful moments together. 💖 Also, I wrote something small for you, and I really hope you like it. It’s just a little piece, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about, and I wanted to share it with you (since you kind of encouraged this at some point haha). 😊 Ro.

This trench was a wretched place. Cold mud clung to his boots, weighing them down with every step, while the bitter, metallic tang of blood mingled with the acrid stench of gunpowder, lingering in the air like a constant reminder of death. Eren’s fingers dug into the wet earth, gripping the damp soil as though it might anchor him, but even the ground seemed to betray him. His body felt like stone—heavy, immobile, and numb from exhaustion. The battle raged in the distance; the occasional rumble of artillery and the sharp crack of gunfire barely pierced the suffocating fog of silence around him.

In this moment, in this graveyard of lives, it was the oppressive quiet that consumed him. The chaos of the world outside—the war, the carnage—blurred into distant echoes, insignificant against the suffocating weight of his thoughts. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the rough stone wall of the trench. The jagged edges scraped his skin, but he barely felt it. Pain had long since become meaningless. Over the years, he had learned to block out the shrieking thrum of war, to numb himself to the horror gnawing at his sanity. Survival had demanded it.

But tonight, his mind refused to be silenced.

Tonight, all he could see was her.

Mikasa.

Her face and her voice haunted him like a phantom he couldn’t escape. “What am I to you, Mikasa?” he had asked once, his voice a ragged whisper of vulnerability he would never admit to anyone, not even himself. It was a question that had gnawed at him, clawed at his soul, but one he had always feared hearing the answer to.

When she had said “family,” his world shattered. He could still feel the weight of that word, heavy and sharp, like a jagged splinter lodged deep within his chest. Family. That was all he could ever be to her. She hadn’t even hesitated, hadn’t seen the longing in his eyes or the silent plea written in his every breath.

Family. It was the cruelest truth she could have given him. A truth that sliced through him with such brutality he wondered if he could ever recover. His breath had caught in his throat, his chest tightening, but the words he needed—the ones that might have changed everything—died on his tongue. The realization hit him like a blow: he would never be more to her than what she had already named him.

The next day, he had walked away. He left her behind, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like an unbearable burden. The finality of it—the certainty that nothing would ever be the same—settled over him like a thick, suffocating fog. He had chosen this path, convinced it was for the best.

But now, in the cold silence of the trench, he knew better.

He would never be her love. He would never be the one to hold her, to stand beside her. He had let her go, and now he was paying the price.

The memories wouldn’t let him go. Mikasa’s smile, soft and warm, still lit up the darkest corners of his mind. He could see the way she had looked at him with quiet intensity, as though she could see straight through him, holding him together when everything else in his world was falling apart.

He had let her slip away. He had taken for granted the one thing he now found himself aching for. Now, all that remained were the fragments of a truth he could never speak aloud.

She would move on. She would live her life, build a future, without him.

And he? He would be bound to this war, to the mission he had chosen. When it was all over—when the dust settled and the world moved on—he would be forgotten.

Mikasa would never be his.

Never.

So, with that true burning in his chest, Eren squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the pain, the fatigue, the suffocating weight of the war. But in the darkness, her face appeared once more—vivid and clear, like a cruel temptation he couldn’t resist.

Mikasa.

Her image materialised before him, standing in the midst of the trench, as if she had stepped from his mind. The cold air seemed to wrap around her, but her presence was warm, alluring. She stood just beyond his reach, her dark eyes fixed on him with a quiet intensity that felt like it could pierce through him. 

And because he was still a man, despite being a fool, Eren couldn’t deny the effect such a lovely image had on him. It wasn’t just emotional, nor was it spiritual—it went deeper, stirring something raw and undeniable within him. It was physical, primal, a pull that tightened his chest and set his blood alight. Something carnal that only a man in love and painfully doomed like him could feel.

The bulge in his pants grew with every passing moment as his appreciation for Mikasa deepened, and suddenly, the need for her became unbearable—so overwhelming it consumed his every thought. The grime and sweat that clung to his body only seemed to heighten his craving for human connection, for the touch of someone who could momentarily alleviate the crushing solitude of his existence in this unrelenting war. 

His hands trembled as they reached for the front of his trousers. He cursed under his breath, but there was no stopping it—not now. He needed this. He needed to feel something, and the image of Mikasa his mind conjured was the only thing that could bring him a fleeting sense of completeness. So he imagined her standing before him in the damp trench, naked and exposed, every curve of her athletic form etched in his mind. Her breath quickened as she stood there, the contours of her body becoming all too real in his desperate thoughts.

He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to his ankles. His cock, thick and long, sprang free, standing at attention like a soldier awaiting orders. The tip was a shade darker than the rest, already glistening with precum that formed a delicate strand as he began to stroke himself. He thought of her tight, wet pussy, the way it would clench around him if he ever had the chance to bury himself inside her.

Mikasa, with her sculpted abs and powerful thighs, was the embodiment of everything he desired. He envisioned her leaning over a bed, her ass, firm and round, pressing against his groin as she whispered sweet nothings that sounded like moans of pleasure. Her voice was a symphony that resonated through his body, setting every nerve on fire. He knew that if he ever had the chance to fuck her, it would be an experience that would be etched into his soul. An experience that would be too hard to forget.

Soon his hand moved faster, his strokes becoming more erratic as the tension grew. He could almost feel her hand around his shaft, guiding him in and out of her warm, velvety depths. Her walls would tighten around him, urging him closer to climax, but he knew he couldn’t cum yet. He had to hold out, to savour this moment of stolen pleasure amidst the chaos of war. His breath hitched as he pictured her leaning back, giving him a clear view of her tight, pink asshole, puckered and begging for his touch. It was something he had never seen before, but the thought of it sent his mind reeling.

With his eyes growing cloudy, he pictured bringing his other hand to his mouth and licked his fingers before reaching down to trace circles around her tight little hole. She gasped, and he knew he had found a spot that made her tremble. He pushed his middle finger in slowly, feeling the resistance before she relaxed, allowing him to delve deeper. Her moans grew louder, and he knew she was close, too. He added another finger, scissoring them apart to prepare her for what was to come.

“Mikasa,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Take me in.”

Her body tensed, and she pushed back, taking him to the hilt. He could feel her cunt clench around his fingers, her muscles rippling with pleasure. Her breath was hot against his neck, her teeth grazing his skin.

“Eren,” she moaned, her voice a sweet agony.

At this point, he didn’t know if it was real or just in his mind, but he didn’t care. All he knew was that this was what he needed, what he craved. The feel of her tightening around him, the sound of her gasping his name. He could feel himself getting closer, his balls drawn up tight against his body. But he wouldn’t let go yet. He wanted to feel her come apart first.

He curled his fingers inside her, hitting that magical spot that made her legs tremble. Her breath hitched, and she bit down on her bottom lip to keep from screaming out his name. Her ass was like a vice around his finger, squeezing him as she rode the edge of ecstasy.

“I’m going to cum,” she whimpered in his mind, and the words were like a trigger.

With a roar, Eren pulled his hand away and stroked his cock, his cum spurting out in thick ropes. He pumped himself dry, his body shaking with the force of his release. As he came back down, his breath ragged, he realised that the only thing he wanted more than freedom was her.

When it was over, he felt no relief. Only emptiness. He slumped back against the wall, his hands falling limp at his sides. The night around him was still, the distant echoes of gunfire a faint reminder of where he was, of the war that had stolen everything from him.

He stared at the sky, his vision blurred with unshed tears. She would never know. She would never know how much he wanted her, how much he had always wanted her. And now, as he sat in this trench, surrounded by death and despair, he knew he would never have the chance to tell her.

He had chosen this path. He had chosen to leave her behind, to protect her in the only way he knew how. But it had cost him everything. It had cost him her.

The thought was a dagger to his heart, twisting with every beat. He would never see her again, never hear her voice, never hold her hand. She would move on, live a life free of the burden he had become.

And he? He would die here, alone in the dark, clinging to the memory of a love that would never be.

[axelakim]

Broken Pieces

Part 2

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!reader (20 ish something) Genre: angst and angst Warning: age gap, not proofread, use of Y/N Summary: You got a crush on Logan while he is still overshadowed by Jean's death. The love journey between you two gets on a bumpy path.

The morning after, the consciousness is gathered in your body. Slowly opening your eyes, seeing Logan was there in the chair sleeping. A glimpse of yesterday madness rolled in your memory causing a headache making you whine. Logan dash off the couch to see you.

“Hey kid, how you feeling? feeling okay?” you observe his face. Worry filled his expressions but you know it was all just an act of generosity as a teacher. Logan waited but you didn't answer. Instead you try to get up and go back to your room. He stopped you

“Whoa whoa girl. Easy. You just recovered. Why in a rush sweet cheek?” you hate him for that. Act sweet, pet names, calling each other's front name outside class. You are trying to play it cool now even though your heart melted by the sound of that.

“I'm sorry Mr. Howlett but will you excuse me? I'm going back to my room”

Tilting his head, “We're not in class just call my name Y/N plus I need to tell professor to check up on you first” reach out to fondle your hair but you shrug it off and stand.

“Thank you for your kindness Sir but I'm feeling better already” ran out the lab leaving Logan alone in there.

He was bewildered, not knowing what he had done wrong to you. All he knew was the two of you were just fine yesterday morning, even you were mocking each other jokingly in the simulation room. Why act differently now? He tries to think positively “Maybe she's just hungover after partying last night” and heads off to the professor room to tell him about you.

You met Hector and Gina on your way back. They were about to visit you but you were out already. Both of them helped you out to the room and you told them all the stories last night. Knowing you were resentful, they just listened and comforted you.

Suddenly the dorm opened, showing Professor X, Logan, and Storm. Professor gave Gina and Hector a sign to leave for a moment and they did. “How are you feeling Y/N?” Professor asked “I am better now professor, thank you so much for the help last night. I’m so sorry for being a troublesome and waking everyone up” “That’s okay my child” “I’m grateful you’re okay Y/N. You’ve never gotten like this in a while. Does something bother you?” Ororo asking “No Storm. I'm okay really” you give them the best smile you can to make them believe “Don’t lie kid. I can see you lie to us. I am not Professor but I can tell. You’re really bad at lying” Logan stated “Now the two of you leave. I would like to have a conversation with Miss Y/N” Professor told them You felt relieved, you don’t need to see Logan for a while. Before leaving, Storm approached and said “Get well soon okay, the class missed you already”, you nod and smile to her. Both of them leaving you with Professor

Professor smiled at you then said “I know everything Y/N” , you ended up reciting all the overheard conversation which made you cause a scene at school last night. Professor knew it all, he always knew you’ve had a crush on Logan for a while.

The next day, your parents came to visit Xavier School. They talk in the headmaster's room, Logan himself escorts them to the room. He knew it, your parents visit you regularly every once in two weeks. He walks to your room, tends to let you know that your parents visit you because he knows you are so happy when they pay you a visit. “Kid, your parents here” he saw you packed your stuff. Everything in your room was packed, you left nothing in your nightstand. There are no stuffed animals in your bed. All empty. At that point he realized something was off. “Oh ya Mr. Howlett. Thank you for notifying.I’ll be there in a minute” “Hold on. Where you going? Why pack so much stuff Y/N? Going on a holiday?” him asked try to make sure “Yes. I’m going on holiday with my parents” giving him the eye smile you have. “That’s good. When will you come back?” “I don’t know. My dad said it’s going to be quite a long holiday” “But you will be back right?” “I will Mr.Howlett”

To be honest, he still wonder about why you call him formally since yesterday “Aight. Let me ask one last question, why do you call me in a formal way now?” “We are teacher and student Mr.Howlett I don’t think it’s okay to call you by your name only. It’s an act of my courtesy for you. I am sorry for my attitude.” “No not at all. I told you to call me that way right, remember kid?” he felt off, he missed how you say his name with all of that gaiety on your face. You still smile at him but it is a different smile. All bad thoughts gathered around his head but he thinks maybe you just need a holiday and there’s something you’ve been through that you wouldn’t like to talk about.

Finally you’re all set up. The luggage was placed in the trunk, now it’s time to say goodbye. The truth behind this holiday is you move abroad to France, your Dad is required to do what his boss wants. In the first place you had turned down their offer, you wanna stay here with your second family. But Logan took over your whole heart, you’ve been head over the heels for him. He doesn’t know it better keep it that way. You don’t want to be seen as a freak who’s falling in love with the teacher. You know yourself better than anyone, your feelings are gonna get deeper into him if you continue to stay. Instead you want to bury it, this attempt to walk off of Logan’s life is your best shot to do it.

Gina, Hector sniffled a bit. Storm and Professor giving you the warmest smile, they got a chance to say goodbye earlier to you in the office. The whole school knew about the movement except Logan, you were the one who wanted to keep it secret from him. Logan came closer and said “Take care kid. We will miss you here, go back soon alright!” stroke your hair like usual “Yes Mr.Howlett” “Please call me Logan before you go” “Yes Logan, I will” but I don’t know when Lo you in your thought “Keep this safe for me” he gave you his dog tag. The one that said “Logan” “No, you can’t give this to me. This is important to you. It’s the part of you” you stated “Yeah it is. I still have the “Wolverine” one, you keep that. You will return it to me when you’re back home okay?” he looked you in the eyes, the doe eyes signaling he doesn’t want you to go.

You nod, putting the dog tag around your neck, and give him a hug, quite a long one. You want to sniff him more, you want his smell to stick on you the whole ride. You want to feel his warmth for one last time. It breaks your heart into pieces, you shed a tear but quickly wipes it out so that Logan didn't notice.

“Let's go honey, there's a flight waiting for us” said your mom “Okay I need to go now Lo, goodbye” “Take care of yourself, write to me when you get there aight?” you nod at his request knowing so damn well you wouldn't do it.

That was the part 2. I hope you guys like the storyline. Give me some advice if there's any mistake ya! Thank you for reading pookie! Hope you all have a great day logan wives lmao

@thewiselionessss

@fandomsunited

@spideybv28

@catwomankyleselina

@snowyminty

@ayamenimthiriel

thank you for the excitement guys!!!

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

i am in love with this fic <3 🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

Thank you!!

60 for 🪷:

---

She’s terrified. 

Bobby

The drive to the airport is quiet. Which is probably for the best, because Bobby is nearly shaking he’s so nervous. 

He’s not actually sure if the nerves are fear or anticipation. Perhaps both? It doesn’t even feel like it’s been too long since he’s seen Athena, despite the very real decade between them. He feels like he saw her just yesterday, and he’s desperate as though it’s been twice the time it has in reality. 

“Thank you,” Bobby says to Harry, as they’re approaching short-term parking. “For everything today.”

Harry gives him a kind smile.

“Hey, of course,” he says. “Anything you need, seriously.”

It’s strange for Bobby to think that Harry is so sincere in that. He was his stepfather for less than a third of Harry’s life, really. For a good chunk of that, Harry was living in Florida. Yet still, there’s that loyalty. 

“I’m grateful,” Bobby says. “For all of you, of course. But especially, uh, you’re looking out for me back at the house and getting everything sorted.”

Harry looks a little flustered with the recognition. “Yeah, I know sometimes when shit happens, everyone fussing over you can be a lot.” 

Bobby nods in agreement. He thinks of Harry as a kid, after everything happened with Jeffrey Hudson.

“Has something else happened?” Bobby asks. “Beyond…”

“Yeah,” Harry nods. He obviously knows what Bobby is thinking. “Yeah, I got hurt pretty bad on the job in my… My second or third year, I think? Took a piece of shrapnel from a car exploding to my abdomen.”

Bobby winces. “Damn.”

Harry nods. “Obviously, I’m good. But, like, Mom and May lost their minds. Chimney lost his mind. Everyone lost their minds. It was a lot to try to recover from almost dying, while they were all freaking out about me almost dying.”

“I think Buck went through a bit of that after he was struck by lightning,” Bobby recalls.

“Yeah, he was a lot of help,” Harry says. “Sorry he didn’t have that presence of mind today.”

“It’s a more surprising situation than an on-the-job injury,” Bobby concedes.

“No kidding,” Harry says. “But, yeah… I figured you’d get overwhelmed.”

And Bobby is very overwhelmed. Still.

“I was,” he admits. “I appreciate the quiet, but I also…”

He trails off, unsure how to phrase this thought. 

“I know we don’t know how long any of this will last,” he says. “I don’t want to waste the time I have with anyone.”

Harry looks thoughtful. 

“Yeah, that’s tricky,” he says. “So many people have missed you.”

Bobby’s throat feels thick at that. There was a time where he could have died and no one was left alive to truly mourn him. 

[itsnotamatterofif]

Oooh sure, I went down the Leccywatt route if that’s okay! I’ve never written 24!Lectra before, so I hope this is okay :D was a fun new thing to try. I hope I wrote them in character, please ignore any egregious OOC-ness.

✨Want a mini fic? Send me an ask!✨

His placement at the door to the shed has become muscle memory, these days. Admittedly, Killerwatt is used to this kind of monotony - enjoys it, actually. The silence means a significant lack of rabid fans trying to scrabble for an ounce of Electra's precious time, or press demanding answers to inane questions they could have simply asked the last interviewer.

The quiet is relaxing, calm; he must admit, he's getting a bit too used to it at this yard. For all its uncouthness, the rolling stock here are simple, and once they managed to control themselves around Electra, most of the engines are either polite or civilised enough to leave them be. The few that aren’t have been dispatched by Killerwatt personally enough times for them to know better and to learn from their mistakes.

Much like the yard outside, the electrics shed is quiet. Most of the other components are off today, required at various events and shows around the capital, but Electra requested Killerwatt personally to remain by their side whilst their other aides took care of business. As expected, frankly, as Electra is still recovering from the damage sustained in that race against the rusting tank engine and that foul-smelling diesel.

Watching Electra stretched out in front of the large floor to ceiling window, half repaired wiring sparking in the shadows cast by their own frame, he knows he should have stepped in.

In the light of the setting sun, their silhouette is one that ought to be framed; a picture of elegance, with their legs stretched out to one side across the chaise longe whilst leaning on their elbow. Volta had very excellently secured them a very nice shed, far away from the rest of the rabble, with a beautiful window that looked out onto the city before them that glittered like stars across the valley, and Electra was incredibly fond of gazing at the view as if it were a piece of fine art.

“I can feel you watching me, my sweet,” Electra suddenly calls, voice as smooth as glass, and it knocks Killerwatt out of a trance he didn’t realise he was in, “can I help you with anything?”

“Nothing, syr,” Killerwatt confirms, voice as even as he can make it, “merely wondering if you were comfortable.”

“As I can be.” Electra slowly swings to their wheels, stretching out their damaged leg carefully as they do so. “You sound as if you were deep in rumination, Killerwatt - I’m interested to hear your thoughts.”

He needs to remember this. There is no lying to Electra.

“I was thinking about how quiet it is,” Killerwatt states - a half truth, admittedly, but not a whole lie, “and how grateful I am that this yard has learned its place - you need rest, Syr, and you wouldn’t get that with a rabble at your door.”

“Quite right, too,” Electra adds, voice distant as if lost in thoughts of their own, and they take one last long look out the window before making their way over to Killerwatt’s post. Even hobbling slightly, they’re a picture of elegance, of style, LEDs faintly glowing in the stark white light of the room. They tower over Killerwatt as they get closer, angled face casting sharp shadows beneath them, and Killerwatt has to hold a breath as to not shudder from the closeness.

Every component wonders if one day they’ll be lucky enough to have Electra’s eye, even if just for a beat of time. Volta received a grateful kiss once, at a previous championship, and she did not silence herself about it for weeks.

“How lucky is one then, to have such an attentive security guard to teach them as such?” They tease lowly, one spindly hand reaching up to stroke Killerwatt’s jaw agonisingly slowly, “I fear I do not tell you how I appreciate you as regularly as I should.”

There’s that smirk on their face, akin to a fox toying with prey, that makes Killerwatt’s internal systems speed up and whir.

“It is enough to know that we are appreciated,” Killerwatt returns modestly, and hopes to whatever Control is out there that his body does not betray him, “I am simply doing my job, Syr.”

“And you do it ever so well,” Electra purrs, before they put shift their weight, and hiss in pain as their sparking leg objects to the pressure, “apologies, I think-“

“Apologise not, Syr,” Killerwatt interrupts, holding his arms out for Electra to lean on, “can you move?”

Electra cracks a pained smile, the barest hint of a guard coming down. “I got over here, did I not?”

He daren’t offer to help, but the fact that Electra allows him to lead them over to the chaise lounge is telling in and of itself. They never accept help, especially when offered, but apparently their repairs are going so slowly they have no choice. Tenderly, he helps them sit, and they groan in relief as the weight leaves their leg.

“That blasted injury is giving me more jip than anticipated,” Electra hisses in frustration, “that ignorant oil truck has dues owed.”

Killerwatt frowns, concern shooting through them. “Shall I summon Wrench-?”

“No, no,” Electra utters, shaking their head as they hiss through their teeth, “I shall be fine, simply a connection that gets caught in the plexiglass, it will right itself eventually.”

They reach out, laying one delicate hand over where Killerwatt is gripping the couch, and the contact is simmering, sizzling, although Killerwatt isn’t sure if that’s not just his internal computer beginning to work overtime.

“After all,” Electra continues with a smile, strangely genuine, “aren’t you enjoying the quiet?”

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #226

1. Can you help me find a fanfic where Crowley and Aziraphale were birds (crow and dove) and Cowley was planning to confess his feeling at water fountain (?). That is what I remember from the fanfic. Thank you in advance if you can't find it or not - anon

2. TW: smut ! - lost fic hello! I was hoping someone would be able to help me find a lost fic. it was really lovely. it was basically crowley indulging az's fantasies in the bedroom... and his were basically just rough sex lmao I mainly remember the first fantasy of where it was (not to be crass) rough oral sex with (a giving head, c getting it) - and after I remember this specific piece of dialogue... "oh, fuck, I over did it, didn't I" -Crowley panicking after az seems a bit dazed "darling that was.. wonderful," -Aziraphale (and they mentioned how his voice was hoarse and his vocal chords were recovering. idk if this is enough for anyone to find, but if you guys do, I am ever so grateful! have a wonderful day! - anon

3. hi i'm looking for a lost ao3 fic (that I am kicking myself for not bookmarking!) It's a decades long slow burn. Crowley reads a Cosmo Girl-type guide to keeping a man and decides to use it on Aziraphale. The guide tells him to be aloof and mysterious to keep the man interested but it ends up sabotaging Aziraphale's confession I think? And when they finally come to their senses, Crowley is so nervous he says something like 'finally, I love me.' (instead of 'I love you'). It was really funny - anon

4. Hiiiiii~ I have lost a fic and been searching for it since September of last year. I think Aziraphale goes back to Heaven but returns because they lost Jesus for the second coming. He goes back to Earth to search for Crowley incase he has Jesus. Crowley is living in a cottage in the countryside, Jesus is a child who is growing up rapidly in a matter of months. Aziraphale and Crowley are on tense terms (wonder why) and are taking care of him together while mending their relationship. I don’t remember how it ends but I remember Jesus saying something to Aziraphale along the lines of “Why are you making my dad sad?” That is all I can remember of it, and I hope it is enough. Thank you for all the work you do! - anon

5. can you help me find a fic someone was telling me about? az and crow are nuns working in a magdalene laundry type place but making it super fun and a haven for queer kids. i think there's a scene about crowley letting everyone sleep in instead of doing morning prayers? i looked in the priest au tag but nothing sounded like it. thanks so much! - anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[exquisiteserotonin]

Precious Possessions: The Last Goodbye

Previous | Masterlist

Series Summary: Defense intelligence conferences are always the same informative but also always boring. You didn't expect anything different for this one, but an unexpected meeting with a man named Dave York, changes the trajectory of your conference experience and maybe even more.

Pairing: Dave York X F! Reader (Original Female Character)

Rating: Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞

Word Count: 6839

Chapter Summary: Some things are inevitable, no matter how much we don't want them to be.

Warning: Per usual there is a lot of plot. This is the last chapter before the epilogue. So you can probably guess where this is going. Darlings, we have here cunnilingus, unprotected PiV, cream pie. Be smart, wrap it up. ANGST, lots of it. Once again please DNI if you are not 18 and over. Also not beta'd, so all errors are my own. Please be kind.

A/N: I just want to thank everyone for being patient with me. I can understand why you might have not stuck with me for this story. But if you have, once again thank you so much. It can be a hard thing to bring a story to an end (despite there being an epilogue). I just want to let you all know I am so, so grateful for all of you reading this labor of love.

Read on AO3

@youandmeand5bucks @pink-whiskey-woman @redhotkitchen @arcanefox207 @legendary-pink-dot @sparklefarts38 @for-a-longlongtime @magpiepills

Taglist: @nerdieforpedro @sheepdogchick3 @casa-boiardi @missladym1981 @untamedheart81 @drewharrisonwriter @guelyury

Chapter 12: The Last Goodbye

The car had barely stopped when you jumped out and grabbed your suitcase from the trunk before racing inside. Dave stood before you, dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt. His hair was slightly a mess and his stature was charged with the alertness of a man ready to run at any moment. You ran to him and it was as though your heart raced with his when you grabbed his face and pulled it to yours. His lips pressed firmly to yours, messy and urgent as though he hadn’t seen you in years. He pulled his lips from yours with the deepest of regrets while he kept his hands steady at your waist. 

“Susan is dead.” 

It felt like someone had knocked the wind out of you. A chill pricked over your body at the words and your head felt light. You were certain the color was draining from you as you gasped for air. 

“Did you---,” the words crumbled from your lips. 

“I killed her…I had to,” he confessed, rubbing hands to his forehead

It was another punch to the gut. The wave of nausea was so strong this time, you pushed off Dave and leaned over the nearest wastebasket. You coughed and heaved, feeling the panic leave your stomach without permission. The tears came with it too, streaming down the curve of your face as you wiped the remnants of the sick from your lips. 

“What are you going to do?” 

“It’s all going to be fine,” Dave said with a deep breath, simultaneously trying to convince himself and you. “I have to go to the funeral, check in with the family—she was a friend.”

“Dave,” you held his face with a look, “you have to be sure about this. You’re going into a snake’s den.”

You didn’t dare tell him he was wrong and how he was putting himself in even more danger. While pleading with him, your brain was working hard to piece together any possible solution that might rescue him from the predicament in which he found himself. 

“You could leave,” you pleaded, “start again.” 

“Not an option,” he struck the suggestion from your lips, “I’ve got a family, remember?”

You swallowed a lump in your throat after you recovered from the sting of his response. 

“I know,” you affirmed, bowing your head while resting your hands on your hips, “I meant with them, leave all this, start brand new.” 

The soft power of your words froze him. The shifting of his eyes revealed that he was processing your suggestion as a real possibility. It left you hoping just a little until he shook his head in disagreement. 

“That will be even more suspect,” he offered as an excuse. “How would I even explain that to Molly, to Alice.”

“At the very least, you know that would keep you alive!” Your voice came out shriller as you continued. “Don’t your daughters deserve that too!”

He bowed his head to you this time, understanding the meaning behind your words. Of course he could see you weren’t just talking about his daughters. He held your face close to yours and he could feel the meaning that laced itself in the trembling of your voice and  glimmered in your eyes.

“I’m not dead yet.”

The words were meant to be comforting, but it was impossible to take them that way. 

“The guys are tying up some loose ends in Belgium and then we’re going to be ok.” 

The way his large hands held your face tried to evoke a sense of security, a promise of hope. 

“Ok?”

“Ok.”

You weren’t sure what your voice sounded like as your response reached him. Yet you had to acknowledge and reinforce the delusion that only seemed to work in his favor. 

He kissed you once more before slipping his hands, then fingers away from yours. He beckoned you to follow him out the warehouse to drive you home. As he drove you, his hand absent-mindedly found its way to the top of your thigh. The intimacy it held was more than anything you’d shared with sex. Your hand met his in response, intertwining your fingers with his as the hum of his car was the soundtrack to your ride home. 

He pulled up to the open space in front of your town house and squeezed your hand before you left his car. 

“I’ll be in touch with you soon.”

The words seemed so transactional, so impersonal, especially considering the touch you just shared. But you also knew that Dave was a man of few words. He lingered a little longer in the parking space, looking at you with the moonlight shining in his eyes. 

“Ok.” You responded again, before pressing his car door closed and watching him as he drove away into the night. 

Sleep was the only thing on your mind when you opened the door to your home. Feeling the specter of sleep beginning to haunt you yet it wasn’t filled with fear. You welcomed it, knowing that it was the peace that held you from returning to your life…this strange thing that you tried to pass off as a normal life. 

A slow and mundane morning greeted you as you tried to wipe the heavy jet lag from your eyes. You made a cup of coffee, pouring it into a medium-sized, red tumbler, and grabbed a protein bar before stepping out. It was a pathetic excuse for breakfast, but your brain didn’t have the capacity for anything more complicated. 

You arrived at work, the motions moving through you like a haze as you pressed your security card to your building door. A constant whisper buzzed around the room as your colleagues shuffled back and forth in a near panic. 

“Did you hear that D.I.A chief was killed in Belgium?”

A deep, sinking feeling intruded upon you in the pit of your stomach at the discussion. Your colleagues ushered you into the news you already knew without your consent. 

“Isn’t that awful?” 

They looked to you for a reaction. So, you nodded. 

“Oh yeah…terrible.”

Your stomach lurched as you listened to their words circle you like buzzards over a carcass

“And her poor partner--what’s his name? York? Agent York? I think he had to break the news to her husband.”

“That must have been awful.”

“Hey didn’t you know him?”

Their eyes were on you again. 

You shrugged and lied about how you only ran into him in the conference circuit. Your co-worker shrugged and handed you a box of chocolates, “Want some chocolate? They’re technically yours.” 

You looked back at your co-worker in confusion.

“Where are these from?” You asked.

“Actually, Brad’s dad brought them for you.

“Oh…,” you sighed, “no thanks, you can have them.” 

The rest of the morning moved with an unexpected speed. You did everything you could to keep your mind off anything related to the D.I.A., to Susan, to Dave. Your day was a series of clicks of clicks and scrolls of your mouse as your perused reports and spreadsheets. All the motions served as a way to get through your day. 

You left work in much of the same haze as you had arrived. A lump surfaced in your throat when you noticed the warm light through your kitchen peeking through an opening in your curtains. With shaking hands, you fumbled with your keys as you pushed it into the keyhole of your front door. With a strong arm you pushed the door wide open, giving yourself a better field of vision as your body tensed with an extreme awareness of your surroundings. 

“Hello?” You called out, keeping your stance at the threshold of the doorway. 

“Close the door.” 

You breathed an audible sigh of relief when you heard Dave’s voice float to your ears. You closed the door softly behind you as you saw him pacing in your kitchen. The tightness in your chest built again as you saw the uncertainty that lived on the lines of his face. You moved closer to him as he stopped pacing, examining his sweat-lined temples and how his face took on a pale, wrecked pallor. 

“Dave?” You moved closer to hold his trembling face in your hands. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

His eyes shot up at the words: an acknowledgment they were closer to truth than fiction. 

“He’s alive. My old partner, McCall, is alive.”

Your mouth dropped as the words came at you like a dart. You didn’t have all the information. You just knew from Dave’s confessions to you what a good friend this McCall had been and how the trauma of watching him die still lived deep within him. His specter seized him with an invisible and unrelenting hand. It choked him, forcing him into a silence yet it still screamed to you that this resurrection was equal parts unexpected and unwelcome.

Hoping to coax one small remnant of hope you moved towards him, sliding your hand along the counter top until your fingertips met his. He flexed his fingers at your touch and his eyes met yours, finally freeing himself from the force that haunted him if even for a brief moment. 

“Tell me that this is OK,” you said in a near whisper, “tell me this is a good thing.”

Your gaze followed the curve of his face until they beheld every movement of the lines surrounding his eyes, his lips, all while taking in the feeling they evoked. He held his jaw tight while the corners of his lips twitched as he let the anger simmer behind them. You moved a gentle hand to cover his and you swore you felt him shaking. Sensing he would pull away, you glided your hand up his arm until you offered a reassuring touch to his face. Before you could utter a word, he brought his hand to meet yours, securing its place there as you felt his entire body tremble with rage. 

He lowered his head closer to yours before speaking.

“It’s not,” he admitted before taking a sharp breath. “It’s not OK, but I’m going to take care of it.”

His foolhardy insistence stoked an angry fire in you, forcing your jaw to tighten in anger just as he did. You pulled your hand from his face, standing taller before crossing your arms over your chest.

“Cut the bullshit, York,” you exclaimed with an exasperated sigh. “He is distracting you. He is getting to you. And you are letting him.”

“He’s looking into Susan’s death.”

The stability shifted like a tree swaying in a strong wind, but you didn’t fall down. You held your stare on him, drawing in a cool breath into your nose before pressing into him with your firm words.

“If your team did their job and if you covered every loose end, then you have nothing to worry about.” You paused in a way that was almost too dramatic, even for you. “Did you do that?”

Seconds passed at a lethargic rate as you waited for his response. Time existed in an inverse relationship with your level of unease. The latter tugged and beat against you with each sluggish moment that oozed by. You took one step forward, leaving the smallest of spaces between you. Despite however many inches he was taller than you, the hunching of his shoulders and bowing of his head made him seem smaller. 

His lips tightened before the right corner lifted into a smirk and his eyes darkened. 

“We always do.” 

You studied him after his reply, staring deep into his eyes, searching for the assuredness you were so used to seeing in him. It was like sifting through a pile of hay for the tiniest pin, no matter how hard you looked. Your brow wrinkled as you tried to find the best way to respond. Trust? Is that what this situation called for? Is that what was expected when it was someone you…when it was someone like him.

“Ok.”

You leaned your head against his, running your hands through his hair and kissed him. 

“You tell me the second this starts going to shit,” you ordered before giving him one more kiss. 

He nodded, with the slightest smirk and gave your hands a squeeze with his before he left your home.

***

Days passed and you hadn’t heard anything. Any lingering idea that the rest of the team would give you any updates had long disappeared. Anytime you checked in with the team you felt like a free agent, despite how much Dave told and showed them that he trusted you. The truth of the matter, however, was you didn’t even trust them. 

Acting on instinct, you tapped your way into the computer systems at the warehouse. You’d review them nightly treating them like appointment tv. Nothing you saw was ever that interesting. Dave rarely showed, owing to his family, you assumed. 

On a Wednesday afternoon when you sat at your kitchen counter review recordings, you noticed Resnick on the phone. You studied his body language first. He paced around the warehouse, as he held his cell phone to his ear. He brought his hand to his hip, a sure sign of frustration. He brought the palm of his hand to his forehead, massaging the frustration from his forehead outwards to his temples. 

You made a few adjustments in your software and began listening closely to Resnick’s phone call. 

“McCall is getting closer and one of our guys is already dead.”

A pause. 

“No, dammit, we need a fucking insurance plan.” 

Another pause. 

“What’s the kid’s name?” You heard anger billowing in his voice. “Miles Whitaker? That’s the key.”

You took your pen and quickly scribbled the name onto your notepad. You immediately typed his name onto your laptop browser. A few social media accounts came up and your chest tightened when you found he was only seventeen. 

“Yeah, no I know he has the girls,” Resnick continued. “Dave’s on board.”

You closed your laptop and grumbled beneath your breath as you began to pace around your house. How did everything get this far? You didn’t want to seem desperate; you wanted to be able to show Dave that you trusted him completely. Your nerves shook your entire body and you resolved to have him meet you at the warehouse. You grabbed your jacket and rushed towards the door, when you opened it, Dave stood before you. The sky cast a greenish-gray light over everything it touched and the wind gusts seemed stronger than usual. You thought you felt a few light raindrops sweep onto your skin from the wind as you ushered him in. 

The pit of your stomach began to do slow somersaults as he rushed past you, setting his black, hooded jacket onto one of your kitchen stools. While you closed the door, you turned around to see him looking at your notes strewn across your kitchen counter. The hairs on your neck stood on end as your feet braced the floor in a defensive stance. He turned around, his lips were tight and he glared at you. 

“You’ve been busy,” he said with a chill that permeated through his voice. 

His hands glided over the kitchen counter, until his finger tips tapped on the page where you had written Miles Whitaker’s name. He stepped towards you and you remained unmoved until his face was just a few inches from yours. 

“Dave, you haven’t been honest with me,” you whispered, your fingers smoothing a few wrinkles on the front of his shirt. 

When he didn’t flinch, you moved your hand to his face, caressing softly. He melted into it, kissing the inside of your palm. 

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me,” you insisted. 

He shook his head, a stern frown settling on his face, “I can’t drag you into this.”

“I’m already in this, Dave.”

The way his breathing shook from the anger that vibrated in his body scared you. You’ve never seen him more on edge and suddenly everything was beginning to feel beyond your control. 

“He came to the house,” he stated, trying to remain calm but he was seething in every breath he took, “he met my—he came for my family—Carol, fuck, she even let him get near Alice.” 

Dave leaned over the kitchen counter. You watched as his eyes darted back and forth at your work. His hands traced over the papers until they settled on the notebook where you had scribbled Miles Whitaker’s name. Dave took it in between his index and middle finger. He waved it in your face.

“How much do you know?” He asked with a low rasp of his voice.

You didn’t answer immediately and he stepped forward his face inches from yours. 

“Answer me.”

“He knows McCall, lives in the same neighborhood,” you reply, observing how he attempted to appear menacing. 

He straightened his posture to make sure you knew how much bigger than you he was. You thought by now he knew that there wasn’t much he could do to you to make you feel afraid anymore.  Full of defiance, you stepped up to him and felt your jaw tighten as you contemplated the words you were about to say to Dave. 

“He’s just a kid, Dave,” you said. 

“So are Alice and Molly,” he responded, his voice lowering. 

“Dave, how far is too far?” You asked him, placing a hand to his chest sliding up to cup his face firmly with your hands. 

“If the kid draws him out, the kid draws him out,” Dave said with a small shrug. “When we have McCall, this will all be over and things will be back to normal.” 

“Normal?” You said, feeling a helpless sigh escape from your lips. “Dave---”

His lips crashed onto yours before another word could leave you. Somehow, he felt stronger than ever as he hoisted you up, coaxing you to wrap your legs around him. You felt weightless as he carried you to your bedroom and as he tossed you onto your bed like a rag doll. Your thoughts swirled around your head mirroring the way the storm clouds swirled outside. Your heart beat all the way up to your ears as he ripped your pants and underwear off your body like they were the flimsiest pieces of paper. 

You stared at him breathlessly as he pulled off his sweater and immediately dove onto the bed, pulling your legs over his broad shoulders. He pushed them wide and didn’t give you a chance to think before his mouth was on you. His tongue moved deep and slowly through your folds. You moaned and bucked your hips even more towards him. He took it as a signal to do more. His lips kissed each fold until he pulled them into his mouth, sucking on them until he inched closer and closer to your clit. There, he took his time, savoring it, rolling his tongue all over it, flicking it, sucking it with so much fervor and desperation that with each arch of your back it was like your soul was leaving you.  

“Oh god!” You grabbed at the sheets as he pushed his face deeper into your pussy, his tongue lapping over the entire expanse of your pussy. 

He pushed himself off you and you yelped breathlessly as he pushed your legs to the side. You watched as he took off his pants and boxer briefs before he crawled over you to pull your shirt off over your head with unexpectedly slow, gentle hands. His breath was hot and loud as his lips explored your collarbone, nibbling at your neck and right ear before they moved across your face, kissing each cheek, your forehead, and chin. You stared up at him as he undulated his body against yours. With his massive hands he pushed your legs up towards your chest. 

“I fucking need you all time,” Dave uttered.

His eyes were fixed on you as though he were holding onto every feature of your face. You’ve seen every emotion in every line on his face, every twitch of his lips, and every nuanced turn and shine of his eyes. The way his words fell to pieces from his mouth was something so unfamiliar and so unsettling. You reached up to caress his face, hoping that reassurance could be passed to him from your touch. 

“I’m right here,” you told him. 

Didn’t he already know? 

“I’m always right here.”

You felt as he pumped his cock towards your opening, until he pushed in the slowest he ever has in your recent memory. His cock throbbed with each torturous push through your folds. You held your gaze on him as you whimpered with each deep push until you were full with the thick size of him. Whimpers turned into moans as the head of his cock hit the deepest part of you, finding a rhythm that only left you wanting him to move more and more. Your thighs squeeze the sides of his waist as he thrusted in and out. Moans and sighs of euphoria come from the deepest part of his throat as he guides your arms over your head, holding them down with the strongest grip of his hands. 

You knew his body so well, perhaps even as well as yours. He moves on top of you and inside of you with more desperation than you’ve ever known. His thrusts in the past have always been rough and precise. This time it was like he was melting into you, his cock moving through you like he was planting a memory. His voice shook with his body, as you feel him losing himself in you. 

“Eyes on me when we come,” his voice was nearly breathless as he moved his hips a little higher when he pushed into you again. 

You rocked into him again, moving as he moved. The subtle change of angle  rocked your core. With each drive of him in you, your body only grew warmer and warmer, hotter, and hotter as the way his girth hit every spot in the perfect way. You weren’t sure if you were going to melt or combust. Either way, this would be a perfect way to die. 

Dave lost his words, only able to liberate moans and whimpers until he was shaking and came undone over you. He kept thrusting as you squeezed and trembled beneath him, gripping his shoulders so tightly that your nails dug into his skin. The heat spread over the map of your body until you were crying out his name, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. 

He collapsed on top of you and you held him, while running your fingers through his hair. He wrapped his arms around you, shifting until he was on his back, pulling you into his chest. You rested on his chest, first listening to how the winds outside began to whistle through the leaves and wrap at the windows. The rain began to descend from the sky to the earth and you heard it patter at the roof and window, until it came down in a consistent and unrelenting fashion. Your focus shifted to the rise and fall of his chest, then to the slow, intentional, and audible breaths. 

The storm clouds, with the descent of the sun, darkened your bedroom. It lulled you into a peace that you knew would not last, but desperately wanted to hold onto. Maybe, maybe if you didn’t say anything, maybe if you just held each other, you’d fall asleep and he would stay. But you couldn’t. It wasn’t you. You pressed yourself up with one hand and moved your head to look up at Dave. You brought your fingers to his face and traced them along the curve of his chin. 

“When are you underway?” you asked him. 

Your feelings created a conflict within you. You wrestled with wanting and needing to know, but also with the desire to remain completely ignorant. The next breath Dave took was so long and so deep that you rose and fell while you remained on his chest. He shifted the pillow behind him so he could see your face better. 

“Another half hour, forty-five minutes at most.”

“Soon,” you murmured, feeling confused and numb. 

You sat up, rested your back against the headboard, and pulled your sheets to your chest. The rain drew streaks down your bedroom window. Dave shifted and rolled to an upright position before turning to sit at the edge of the bed. You watched him in the early evening light as he searched around to find his clothes. It felt like a scene from one of those art house movies with no dialogue, just sound effects, and a series of images. The rain drops hit your window. The sound of the fabric that moved when he gathered his clothes. The way Dave walked around naked, illuminated by the lamp light. Your eyes scanned over the muscles of his back like they were a camera doing a close-up scene. It hypnotized you as you watched him dress in silence: boxer briefs, jeans, shirt, and a jacket. All black. He almost disappeared into the darkness. 

He turned around to face you again and you shuffled across the bed until you were kneeling at the edge of the bed. He rushed towards you and brushed your hair away from your face and pulled you to capture your lips in a long, slow, and deep kiss. The desperation, the abandonment of anything that came along with everything he put into that kiss filled you with your kind of desperation combined with longing and fear. When he let you go, you looked up at him, gripping his hands in yours as though you could hold him tight enough for him to stay. An unexpected kiss on your forehead loosened your grip. 

“When it’s done, I will find you,” the lie came off his lips so easily. 

“And what if—,” you interjected. 

“I will find you.” 

With a long intake of breath, you nodded. He grabbed his knit hat and opened the door, the sound of heavy rainfall breaking through the quiet in your home. When he closed the door behind him it was like the warmth was sucked out of your home. Maybe it was the storm that did it. It returned you to the silence, sitting on your bed cold and numb. 

***

To sleep was impossible. To stay awake was excruciating. Eventually, you passed out from sheer exhaustion. A dull, constant pain in your head greeted you when you awoke. Your body ached, likely from sleeping in some strange contorted position. A haze blanketed itself over your brain and the light that shone through your closed blinds only made your headache worse.  

You called in at work. The jumbled mess of your mind wouldn’t allow you to focus. Pulling yourself off your body pillow was a feat, as you reached to your nightstand for your phone. The screen was black still and your fingers trembled before you pressed them to the screen. When you woke it up there were no notifications to be found. Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach. But it was still nine in the morning, the day still in its youth. Dave could still reach you.

Then ten o’ clock. Then eleven. Then twelve. 

Trepidation had turned into anxiety. Anxiety turned quickly into panic. Each second, minute, and hour that passed diminished your hope and even worse your critical faculties. The way your brain spun around and around seeped into every decision you made. You couldn’t even make yourself a cup of coffee without forgetting where you had put the spoon that was just in your hand or the almond milk you had just taken out of the fridge.

The foreign feeling of being completely out of control kept nagging at you. A deluge of potential solutions forced themselves to the front of your brain. You could call Dave. But if McCall somehow had his phone, then any contact would lead back to you. You could do a casual drive by of Dave’s house. Maybe he was there. His girls were there. They were his life. Were. The word lingered like a specter following you at your feet. You ruminated on the word too long until you leaped back to the idea of going to Dave’s home. You nearly convinced yourself that it was a good idea until you remembered that you’d met his wife and one of his daughters. 

Tears of frustration and impotence formed at the outer corner of your eyes. The insanity was quickly taking hold of you. It climbed up your body like a vine, wrapping around you tighter and tighter until it squeezed your waist, chest, and neck. You clawed at the invisible thorns that gagged you until you were suffocating and drowning inside yourself. Feeling lightheaded, you  leaned against the wall closest to you. After several breaths, you found your way to your kitchen to get a drink of water---the only thing you felt you could do to calm your nerves. 

Another hour passed: now one o’clock. With each passing hour, your house felt like a prison that trapped you in a deeper spiral. Maybe if you drove around, just drove around, you could just think. Anything to keep you sane.  You threw on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and left your house to drive anywhere and nowhere at the same time. 

The early afternoon light was still high in the sky as you drove. The trees, stores, and homes floated past you as you drove in silence. The act of driving felt automatic, programmed, and gave you the mundane routine you needed to think about anything having to do with Dave. In spite of yourself, every place you moved through felt like Dave. This whole place was Dave. You hadn’t even registered with yourself what was happening when you found yourself passing by Alice and Molly’s school. 

“Shit,” you cursed yourself, your heart pounding. 

You looked at the time on the dashboard. 1:30. School wouldn’t be out for another hour. This was a mistake. The rational, logical, in control you would have left. Whoever you were at that moment decided to park under the shade of a large tree. Maybe, maybe Dave would pick up the girls. It would make sense, you tried to convince yourself. He’d want to see them right away once he was done with the job.  The perfect reunion.  

The workings of your mind were interrupted as your eyes caught a familiar silver Mercedes SUV speeding towards your direction. It turned quickly into the parking lot of the school. You leaned forward to see Dave’s wife in the driver’s seat. Panic came rushing back like a wave over your entire body when you saw her.  You took note of how she gripped the wheel, her chest heaving and her shoulders raising up and down erratically. She wiped her face with her hands. Her mouth was slightly open as she took another deep breath. Her lips turned down into a deep and excruciating frown as more tears fell down her face. That was the moment you knew. He was gone. 

A numbness invaded your entire body, starting at your heart and moving outward until it crawled over your skin as you watched Carol walk to the entrance of the school building. The skin of your knuckles was white from gripping your steering wheel so hard. You felt your breaths coming in deep from your lungs. Your neck tightened as though something were choking you from the inside out. 

After several minutes, Carol was coming back out with her and Dave’s daughters in tow. Molly followed her, her face contorted in a pain that cut deep beneath the surface of her skin. Her lips and chin were shaking as she wailed and a flood of tears flowed continuously from her eyes. At the same time, Carol held Alice tightly in her arms. Their younger daughter had her arms wrapped tightly around Carol’s neck. She placed her in the back seat and returned to the driver’s seat where she took a deep breath. Her eyes were puffy. The aftermath of her tears. The car drove past you and you caught a glimpse of Alice staring blankly out the window as though she were staring off at something in the distance, her face notably absent of tears. 

***

Your car was a void filled with silence and the sound of your heart pumping blood that echoed loudly in your ears. The drive home was muscle memory. Automatic. Somehow, within the blur of traffic, you made it home. The tightness in your throat dropped to the bottom of your stomach, feeling empty and heavy at the same time. Mechanical, pre-programmed movements governed your body as you moved through one action to the next: turning off your engine, unbuckling your seatbelt, and exiting your car. 

Your heartbeat thumped harder and louder as you unlocked your front door and closed it behind you. It was unsettlingly peaceful inside, so much so that it amplified the quietest sounds in your townhouse: the soft hum of your air conditioning, the ticking of your wall clock, and the soft breaths in and out of your nose. Each little noise set fire to every nerve and your chest tightened as you burned with panic. It creeped up your neck and clawed at your face until you keeled over, letting out a long, guttural wail that you tried desperately to hold back but couldn’t. If you could just will the tears to stop, everything would be ok, you told yourself. It was all a lie though. You stumbled to your room and found the way to your bed. The longer you cried the more it hurt in your lungs, in your chest, your throat, and your head. You curled yourself into a fetal position, pulling a pillow tight to your chest. Your face and pillow were soaked with the deluge of tears that poured from your eyes. It still smelled like him. You buried your face in your blankets and pillows only coming to sleep because it was the only thing left you could do. 

***

Returning to work was a cruel reality. Processing your grief wasn’t something that would ever be afforded to you. Dave wasn’t your husband. He wasn’t even your friend. And in spite of that he was infinitely more. But today was really just a normal day. That’s the mask that you had to wear for the outside world.  Even when whispers of yet another DIA agent's death circled around your office. They hadn’t found his body. The chatter flitted around about how they were lost due to rescue efforts related to the storm. They’d asked if you’d heard about it. The only thing you could do is shrug about it and quickly walk away. Sometimes you had to lock yourself in the bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror far too long as you squeezed tears back into your eyes. 

Through all the talk you managed to float through the different conversations that moved around the office. You took the information you needed and blocked everything else out. You returned to your desk and stared at your computer screen, moving around your cursor to nothing in particular before you grabbed a sticky note from your desk organizer. You hovered your pen over the paper as if by doing so it would make time stop and make all of this not real. As if you could stop the inevitable. The weight of the pen grew heavy when you finally brought it to the paper to write: 

Saturday. 11:00 am. 

You’d have to wait until the guests and all his family were gone. It was the only way you’d be able to say your final goodbye. 

***

A distance away you sat in your car watching as a marine handed Carol a folded flag. Molly had her arms firmly around her mother’s waist, while Alice held an empty gaze at the coffin that was so much bigger than her little body. Your face felt numb as they laid an empty coffin into the ground. The sea of funeral attendees dispersed, gathering into their respective cars leaving the cemetery like a parade. It seemed like forever that Carol, Molly, and Alice remained staring at the headstone. It must have been at least twenty minutes before they left. You waited a while, looking for assurance that there weren’t any more people who decided to stay behind.  When you were sure everyone left, you left your car cautiously to walk through grass and paved walkways towards the grave. You stared at it even though you didn’t want to. 

David York 

Loving Husband and Dedicated Father 

This was it. It was real. The wind floated around you, your waves fluttering with it. Some strands swayed across your face, sometimes catching one of the salty tears that left your eyes. You clasped and twisted your hands and fingers trying to find a way to accept this moment. You tried not to be angry that he didn’t listen to you. You tried to push down the hurt and emptiness with the same force you were able to silence the scream that you wanted to release. Your fingers traced his name and it was like you replayed each of your moments in that one final touch. 

Eyes bleary and skin wet with tears, your voice quivered, “I told you so.”