#an activity can feel more like work when it's going slow/poorly despite it being still work when it's going well/quickly

[rabbitindisguise]

I would separate out the blue and green m&ms out of ten pound bags like they sort mtg cards at card reseller shops so people could eat them (the m&ms not the cards, though they can own their truth and eat those too) and I'd pay for the chance to do it. I'd buy little pink sterile gloves so it's easier to see them (size L). This wouldn't be work not because it's my passion (it is) but because I would do it effortlessly.

And then idk go home and write novels or something. It would be work on the days I had to ctrl + f a characters name when I wanted to replace it with a new one, I can tell you that much

it turns out a lot of people are actually on the same page about whether or not they'd work if they didn't have to earn money, we just all seem to have wildly different definitions of what counts as work. i'll see one person say "of course i would, i'd still want to create art and volunteer in my local community" and another say "hell no i wouldn't, i'd quit work and just create art and volunteer in my local community" and then they look at eachother like they said something incomprehensible.

[romzfox]

Kickflip reacting to interacting with their ex during award show season

Genre: Fluff, Kickflip x idol!reader (ot7 separately)

CW: None (at the moment)

Author note: Finally posting this after months of hiatus. Sorry for being gone for so long but I hope I can be more active. I also change the ask sightly into just them interacting with you during award season.

Lee Kyehoon

• The moment he saw your face, unpleasant memories towards the end of your relationship begin to spawn in his mind.

• Don’t get him wrong, he was happy when you and your group won the rookie of the year award, but he felt that he couldn’t resolve the misunderstanding between the two of you

• It had been a while since the two any contact with each other, but the last time you guys talked was… not so pleasant. A misunderstanding that was handled poorly due to being inexperienced in a relationship.

• So when he heard that they will be a special stage for rookie leaders, he worried that those unresolved issues would kick off during practice

• throughout practice, you two couldn’t look each other in the eyes longer than 2 seconds. Even though there was no hostility, he could tell that you were having the same thoughts

• By the end of practice, both of you were the only ones still in the practice room. Mustering up the courage to go up to you and chat with you.

• in the end, you guys decide to take it slow and talk it through.

Mitsuyuki Amaru

• Even though you guys aren’t dating anymore, you were still rather close friends with each other.

•He can’t even help but break out into a smile when he saw you accepting your award at the awards ceremony. Proud of how much you accomplished during your first year

•His smile didn’t go unnoticed by the other members. Giving him subtly jabs while quietly chuckling at his bashful smile

•After the event, he’ll try to look for you so he can congratulate you in person. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to have a proper chat with you

•”Congratulations, y/n I’m proud of you!” Amaru brightly exclaims as he wraps his arms around you, to which you gladly reciprocated. “Aww, thank you Maru, I really appreciate you coming to congratulate me.”

•He could feel his cheeks burning as you referred to his nickname that you gave him when you guys were a couple. He doesn’t mention this to you, but, he’s so grateful that the both of you are still as close as you are despite being friends.

Lee Donghwa

• You and Donghwa dated during your trainee days, keeping you your relationship a secret from the company and the other trainees

•Unfortunately, as you guys focused on your debuts, the distance between the two of you grew bigger and decided to break things off. Not to mention the dating ban that all

•Being in the same label mates (with you debuting in Nmixx) didn’t make things better, but since you were so busy with work it you didn’t get many opportunities to talk properly

•Well that was until award show season started

•Watching Kickflip perform made you feel emotional. Not just because it reminded you of your debut days, of course. It also reminded you the sacrifices you and Donghwa had to make in order to have a successful career.

• It makes you wonder: if you guys weren’t restricted by the dating banned enforced by JYP and other circumstances

Jang Juwang

-You and Juwang technically haven’t broken up, more like you two are a taking a ‘break’ from each other

• Juwang would call and text you on occasion to check on you and vice versa

•The last time the two talk was weeks before the award ceremony. I mentioned this because what you did while accepting your award caught him by surprise

•When you went on stage to accept your award, you took a deep breath and went up the microphone.

“I just want to say, thank you for awarding my group ‘rookie of the year’. We are genuinely grateful to be standing on here on this stage with you all. I also want give a shout out to a certain someone. They are so important to me and gave me so much love and support. Even if things are uncertain as of now, I’m still appreciative everything they’ve done.”

•It took Juwang a minute to fully comprehend the last part of your speech, but when he realized who you were referring to, he couldn’t help but smile.

•Even though it vague enough for nobody to exactly know who you were referring to. He could tell you were talking about him.

•He couldn’t say it at the moment, but, he truly did love you

Choi Minje

•You and Minje mcing at the same awards show that day

•You haven’t seen Minje in quite some time, so this was a nice surprise

•The atmosphere was awkward, but endearing, trying to catch up with each others lives as both of you rehearsed your scripts

•”It’s almost like we’re on a date,” you joked, feeling your cheeks getting warmer.

•Even though it’s the first time you’ve been with each other in a while, you didn’t have much time to chat with each other as you only a few days to prepare

•At this interaction reminded you of what made you so attracted to him in the first place

Okamoto Keiju

•Out of the members, he feels the least awkward near his ex

•Probably because it’s wasn’t just the two of you as it a joint performance from different 5th gen groups

•Keiju also doesn’t dwell on the past as the both of you agree to be just friends from that day forward.

•Rehearsals went off without a hitch, with some jokes being thrown around from time to time

•There was a part of the choreography where you and Keiju were performing together. So to avoid awkward tension, Keiju would make jokes

•Seeing how touchy and jokey you both were made the others look at you like: 👀

Lee Donghyeon

•Even though he’s consider the most mature in the group (Based on what his members said). I think he would be pretty awkward in situations like this, especially if it’s first breakup.

•He’s not even upset about seeing you, he just didn’t know how to make the situation any less awkward for the both of you

•You have to perform a vocal duet with him and have to look at each other face to face

•”Donghyeon, you alright?” You asked since he wasn’t looking at you and instead was

•He’ll just honestly explain his feelings to you and how he still finds it difficult to be around you.

•Even though you were hiding your feelings to keep things moving, you couldn’t help but feel the same way.

•You couldn’t help but feel emotional due to not being used to being a situation like this and began to cry.

•The rest of the session is just Donghyeon consoling you during practice and opening your feelings to each other

[glassmarcus]

Jet Set Radio is the ultimate ANTIFA propaganda

*Played and Written in July 2023

Jet Set Radio has punk hip hop energy seeping out of every pore of its being. It goes against the grain in every way. The art style sets the game apart, not just by having distinct and bold character designs, but also through its rough cell shading effects. The music not only slaps, but slaps from a different angle than any of its contemporary's music. This is mainly due to none of it's contemporaries having Hideki Naganuma blessing the OST with the Stankest Funk imaginable. It's a story about overcoming evil and corruption, not through violence like most games, but through embracing art and humanity. Jet Set is counter culture and you can feel it in every aspect of the game. The gameplay even remains distinct from other skating games by being kinda bad. And while I am being snarky here, I do actually think there is some merit to this sardonic comparison.

Jet Set Radio doesn't feel good to play. It's nice to listen to. It's nice to look at. But the controls are too tanky and the mechanics are too unreliable. The camera gets caught on every corner you turn on. It's never clear when you will be able to spray paint due to poorly communicated context sensitivity. Animation cancels and decent acceleration are nowhere to be found in a game about moving around a city expertly. Timers exist....for NO reason. It all comes together to make a rather frustrating experience. But eventually I got used to it, and it became fun when I knew where I was going and wasn't being chased by the cops. Stringing together jumps to tag up a sign 3 stories high is fun no matter how wonky your controls are. It's too bad that you are pretty much always being chased in this game. Every time you start to get the hang of how this clunky game works you get swarmed by pigs and play time is officially over. There is no way to fight these blue bastards off. You just need to runaway and then come back. Only running away is always a crucible due to how slow you start skating. And most of the time you need to execute 5 -10 motion inputs while standing still to post graffiti and all you can do is pray you don't get dog piled in the middle of the animation. It's an issue that only gets more bothersome as the game progresses. You are being pursued by cops with whips, jet packs, helicopters and machine guns and it starts to feel like every step you take is being monitored and every action you make is rejected. They completely ruin this game...but also elevate it.

I hate cops more than ever after playing Jet Set Radio. Paying any amount of attention to the news and being a minority pretty much placed me in the ACAB camp by default. But I think I'm ascending to another level now. I could feel the radicalization occur within me during my playthrough. Seriously, why are there so many of them? Can't you allocate your resources somewhere else? Go actually help someone instead of trying to murder me for painting on the side of a building likely created through unethical means. These are some of the most effective fun vacuums I've ever come across, and they perfectly reflect how lame authority can be in real life. On an aesthetic level, everything in Jet Set is peak. And the cops actively keep you from enjoying that. Did I have fun playing this game? Not really. Did it communicate its message successfully. Damn right it did.

I don't think the game is bad on purpose or anything. But the feeling of being annoyed by the authorities while you are just trying to express yourself is captured so well and so authentically, that the game isn't wholly allowed to be fun most of the time. So in a way, Jet Set Radio is sort of perfect despite not actually being a good video game. I haven't played Jet Set Radio Future, because no one has, but it apparently fixes all these issues. And I'm pretty sure I would enjoy the sequel a bit more. But after playing the Original, I feel like I'm 10% more likely to spit on an officer's shoes and I get the feeling Future wouldn't have accomplished the same thing. Video Games are art. And I think games can be being exceptional art by doing things outside of being an exceptional game. Jet Set Radio is now my go to example of this.

[phantomrose96]

My relationship with content creation and hobbies, in general, got a lot better when I started learning to reframe it as a simple act of human creation, and not a metric of my own self worth.

We’re taught competition, and perfectionism, and shame. If I say “I cook” I must add “(but not well)”. If I say “I run” I must say “(but I am not good at it).” I say “I code (but I mostly know frontend).” I create and express and my first impulse is to guard against embarrassment. Lest I fall so short of marketable competence. Lest I subject myself to the mockery of being caught creating poorly. I wound myself first so others may not.

Even the advice that fights against this says “your only goal should be to be better than yourself yesterday.” But why must I be in competition with her? What happens, after the initial rapid climb in skill, when I plateau? What of injury, and atrophy, and depression, that flake these skills away? Must I return feeling compelled to over-achieve? To wallow in embarrassment until I can surpass my own previous record? To hate my work until the reception, the notes, the engagement outperform an ever rising bar? I do not want to be paralyzed by the mountains I built behind me. Why should I look behind myself when there’s a wide swath of untilled Earth that stretches far out of sight ahead of me? I want to enjoy my work, and my mediocrity, moving forward with all its ebbs and flows.

At my worst, I was nothing. I was not a writer. Because I had forgone writing for all the fear and stress and damage to my self-worth that it wrought. I was not a coder. Because I was only useful for the niches of my job, and didn’t have the heart to create something badly, on my own, for fun, lest it confirm my suspicions of mediocrity. I was not even a runner - despite the extreme and exhaustive amount of time I sunk into it - because I fell short of my previous self, and I could not hold a candle to the actually-skilled runners, and I was forced to speak of this hobby in all those guarded terms - “but i am not good” - because of how much that ate at me. 

I was no cook, and no homemaker, and no creator, because when I did those things, (I did them poorly.) 

And when all these came together, I wallowed in emptinesses. (I still do, sometimes. It’s hard and complicated). Because emptiness is what was left when I stripped myself of the things and the pursuits whose lack of value could be used to hurt me.

The change for me - the change, I think - came at the time I started to recognize that I do not deserve self-punishment for my mediocrities, for the failings of my current state of being. It was not a revelation all at once. It was a slow and progressive flirting with the idea, found almost by accident on self-help youtube channels of a very particular ilk. It came with the recognition that I had trapped myself, wiling away my time and my energy, in a state of constant apology, and shame, and self-correction for the mediocrities I dare not unleash onto the world. I boxed myself up with the promise “once I am good enough, I will be allowed to come back out”, and that was a lie. I would never have come back out. I was chasing punishing metrics of self-improvement that I did not need, and would never actually catch and maintain, and which would never love me back.

It took a long time to internalize this. It took a long time to get angry on my own behalf. It took a long time to act on it, and write again because fuck you. To run on my own terms, at my own pace, for my own enjoyment because fuck you. To create with my hands again because fuck you. To lean into the happiness of creation that I had not “earned”, because fuck you.

I like creating because it fills an emptiness that used to be there. It’s so simple, and so lovely, that humans are like this. That we want to build with our hands. That we want to assemble and construct. That we derive joy from stacking pieces together, and stringing words together, and assembling colors on a page, and moving, and singing, and baking, and knitting. Humans love to build little worlds around them. 

So why must we so actively try to cut people off from it off from it? Why do we condition ourselves to fear its mediocrity? Why does this still our hands? Why do we suffocate it for ourselves, before others can? I don’t have an answer. I can only recognize the monster. 

I want to make bad art today. I want to make bad art tomorrow. If I am a worse writer tomorrow, I want that to be fine. If I am never more than a mediocre runner, I want to be at complete peace with that. Because if not, then I might box away my hobbies again, and my loves, and my pursuits. I might go back to empty. I might go back to nothing.

I hate that emptiness I lived through. I hate that nothing. I want to make bad art for the rest of my life. 

[justiceraffles]

"Hey, what if MK was a horribly written telenovela with a poorly conceived mystery storyline that's tied together in the most precarious of ways with nonsensical plotpoints and was also endgame Hakukai" So here's the start to my Hakukai longfic! I have a lot of things to say about this story so I'll just ramble about it at length beneath the cut if anyone's interested in my nonsense notes. Otherwise,

Read Here

I've been working on this thing on and off for a year and a half now, it lives rent free in my head every day and has been editted, restructured, and rewritten a lot. I've been very apprehensive about sharing it. ...To be honest, I still am! It's a chaotic story where I just allowed myself to write the most self-indulgent thing I could muster. This entire plot is an amalmagation of random things and ideas I like. It feels like a niche concept that is very messy and ???¿¿¿¿??? why did I make this

But, I guess that also makes it a very "me" story, so having fun with it and writing something that just brought me joy is what matters most, ultimately.

(aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA)

I'm very thankful to everyone who has read the outline and concept for it or just listened to me ramble about the incoherent plot and characters or cheering me on when I've been kinda anxious about it— it's thanks to that support despite this being such a specific and ¿¿¿ idea that I've found the courage to actually share it. I'm very grateful and I hope you guys can enjoy something in it o)-(

So, about the fic,

It's a story about Hakuba! I think we are all well aware that jokes about his long absences and infrequent appearances are very commonplace (where in the world is hakuba saguru??? TT) and it unfortunately leads to him being forgotten and overlooked often. The initial concept that inspired this fic was "Hey, what if Hakuba stopped showing up for real?" and explore the implications this would have on the MK storyline (and Kaito, by extension). I wanted to make a plot where he was allowed to be the protagonist of his own story, highlight his worth as a detective, his role in the main narrative, and the depth of his relationship with Kaito. It's a Hakuba Saguru Appreciation fic, first and foremost!

So, the romance itself is very slow burn. There is a lot of plot, because I have a lot of fun with ridiculous, contrived stories haha. It takes a while for the story to be fully set up, and Kaito doesn't make a proper, official appearance until the end of Chapter 2.

Chapter 1 is rather lengthy and sets the context and plot from Hakuba's POV, Chapter 2 focuses on establishing where his relationship with Kaito (as well as Aoko and Akako) stands at the moment, and Chapter 3 onward starts seeing the first proper developments in the relationship.

It's a bit rocky at first and they have a lot of ups and downs but I promise they work it out (I promise!!! I swear!!!) I tried my best to maintain a balance between the fluffy and angsty moments, but I have to admit it's quite dramatic at parts lol I enjoy stupid, trashy drama a lot sometimes— this is the reason I'm calling it a bad telenovela.

Despite the fact that this is very plotty, their feelings for each other are the guiding force behind the storyline, and their relationship does take center stage later on. The romance is in no way secondary, it just takes a long while to fully develop. They most definitely get a happy ending, but you can expect this to be 95% pining.

The story starts out some years after the current events in the MK manga. Pandora hasn't been found yet, and KID is still active. On the other hand, the DC canon is used very loosely; the conflict has long since been resolved. The BO was taken down years before the start of this story.

The two plots aren't too deeply intertwined here, they just intercept at parts. References to DC events appear here and there and some elements and character interactions overlap, but they tend to be minor for the most part. This is primarily a MK story and I wasn't too worried about completely integrating both plotlines (or staying 100% accurate to the DC plot, for that matter).

Of course, because this is MK-centric, Aoko and Akako are involved with the overarching story and have major roles to play.

In terms of DC characters, Masumi, Shiho, Heiji and Shinichi play semi-prominent roles in the story. I've tagged Masumi from the getgo because she appears in the first chapter, but I'll add the others when I get to the little arcs they show up in. Save for some specific contributions they have, they aren't too deeply involved with the overall plot progression, but the interactions Hakuba has with them are important for his character development and his better understanding of his relationship with Kaito. Basically each of these characters gets some sort of little story arc in which they interact with/help Hakuba in some way. I arbitrarily chose who I wanted him to interact with, lol.

Speaking of arbitrary decisions— Miss Masumi!!!! She's the first character that shows up in this and interacts with Hakuba. I understand this is probably a strange choice. Because I really wanted to flesh out Hakuba's detective methods and life in London a little more, I decided to use the very what if headcanon of Hakuba's maternal family and the Sera family being acquainted with each other. Like I said before, I didn't really want to connect DC and MK plots thoroughly, so the Akai family plotline isn't at all relevant here beyond a couple of passing mentions. I was mostly interested in Hakuba having an MI6 connection without the need of using another OC and I just wanted to imagine what a hypothetical dynamic between him and Masumi would be like.

And then, OCs. There's a couple of OCs with pretty major roles here as well. Really major— probably in equal measure to Aoko and Akako. I apologise in advance! I really needed them to properly build the detective/mystery aspect of the plot, and the more I wrote, the more they became involved with the story and relationship progression TT I really enjoyed writing them a lot, and I'm satisfied with how they turned out here. I understand OCs with prominent roles aren't everyone's cup of tea, though. Even though I enjoyed writing them, I'm a little self-conscious about how relevant they ended up being when they were originally just going to be there as a plot device to kickstart things ;;; Hopefully someone can find enjoyment in them nonetheless. They are most heavily involved with the story after the midpoint, but they appear all throughout.

I'm really nervous about the choices to have Masumi and major OCs in this story...I understand it is likely these things will make this story a little too niche. But!!!!!!!!! Again!!!!!!!!!!!!! Having fun with it is what matters most Raffles!!!!!!!!!!!!! Get that through your thick skull!!!!!!!! GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also, please expect the most convoluted explanation to Pandora. There is a lot of made up lore I had a blast writing but it's all probably needlessly complicated.

In summary, it's a detective story starring Hakuba that somehow ended up reading like a dramatic post-breakup/getting back together soap opera.

A significant portion of this has been prewritten, so my (ideal) plan is to have weekly or biweekly updates (but hmmmm let's see how long that lasts until I decide to scrap and rewrite everything out of embarrassment— this is very likely, I second-guess myself a lot)

I keep dragging it through the mud, but I've actually had a blast writing it, even though there's A Lot going on and I'm not very confident in it being decent enough to share.

With all that, I hope someone else can maybe find some enjoyment reading it.

[ab1tofsp1ce]

A Warmer Refuge

Chapter 6: The Bearer of my Stories

Masterlist HERE

A/N: Hi everyone! I’m in the process of getting a masterlist together, which I’ll hopefully post soon. Also, I’m totally open to requests etc if anyone’s interested :)

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: Angst, fluff and brief mentions of violence

I was sitting on a crate in the hold when the Mandalorian came down from the cockpit, the ship safely in hyperspace. I was leaning up against the wall of the ship next to the ladder, staring at the wall opposite me and trying to catch my breath and slow my heartbeat. He climbed down the ladder and stood at the bottom next to me, watching me but clearly giving me a moment to regain my composure.

“You did well,” he said when I finally looked up at him. “That was quick thinking, with the dagger.”

“I’m glad you gave it to me,” I admitted with a breathy laugh.

“So much for not knowing how to use it,” he said, with a slight smug note to his voice. He suddenly seemed to stiffen up, catching sight of something on me. I realized it was my hands, and this sudden reminder of them made me feel the pain they were in. I looked at them, seeing they were even more scraped and bruised than they had been before.

“I’m – I’m sorry. That was my fault, I threw you too hard.” He strode past me to a cabinet in the wall, which he took a medpack from before bringing it back over and kneeling in front of me.

“No, it’s okay,” I said, trying to get the words out without letting them be swallowed by my nerves. “You did what you had to do. You acted very quickly.”

He took my right hand and sprayed it with a bacta spray. “Not fast enough,” he murmured.

Maybe it was just the shock, but my mind retreated far away from everything, only focusing on what his face must’ve looked like under his helmet. More often by the day I found myself asking this question. If I was less flustered and overcome I may have winced at my shamelessness in this moment. But right now, I saw nothing else. The pain, the sound of the ship, the trembling of my body, the blaster shots ringing in my ears, it all faded away like white noise, and all I felt was his ungloved hands on mine. Maybe he noticed the sudden steadiness of my hand, or felt my gaze on him, because he looked up from his work at me. It sent a shiver down my spine, as he looked at me in that way he always did – expecting an answer to a question he didn’t even need to ask.

“Déjà vu,” I explained, gesturing with a gentle nod of my head to the way he was kneeling in front of me, working on my wounds. He looked back down at my hands with a quiet chuckle.

“For the record,” I began, “I was incredibly impressed with your speed. You saved my life. And how were you supposed to know there would be more of them?”

“The language those crooks were speaking was Huttese,” said the Mandalorian, not looking up from his work.

“Which… you understand?”

He finished bandaging my left hand before he looked up at me. “Poorly, but yes.”

I gave him a reassuring smile, trying to soften the harshness of his tone. I could hear it; he felt guilty. But my hands would heal, and so I felt anything but resentment. I was impressed, actually, that he played along so well. I never would have guessed he knew what they were saying.

I wished I had the strength to tell him how I felt; how grateful I was that, despite this messy, mournful, and painful life I was living, I was glad that I had him.

I must’ve dazed out again, because when I came back to my senses he was walking over to a room at the front of the hold. He stood with his back to me for a moment, before looking over his shoulder. “I’m going to rest for a bit – now we’ve got the chance. Let me know if you… need anything.” Then the doors slid open and he disappeared through them, leaving me on the floor with a slowly elevating heart rate.

There was something about water that helped me think clearly; maybe it was because the water washed away all the other distractions, or that the sound drowned out everything else. Admittedly, it wasn’t often that I got to use a shower on Yak’ish Temeen, so I reveled in the feeling knowing that I shouldn’t waste the water, and allowed myself a moment alone with my thoughts.

I reflected on what I had thought before – that if I had the strength, I would tell him how I felt. Which was ridiculous, right? What was there to feel? We were… he was a business acquaintance, at best. He does a few mutual favors and shows you a sliver of human decency and you…? There’s nothing to consider, I thought, because I don’t feel anything. And even if I… even if I did, I’m going to stop this stupidity right here, right now. The last thing I need right now is to be disoriented by… whatever I was feeling. Which was nothing, I thought decidedly. From this moment, I was going to feel nothing.

I dressed in fresh clothes before taking a moment to look in the mirror. With my hair wet and face clean I looked almost like a different person. And I felt like one, too – compared to who I had been just a week ago. I pressed my fingers to my cheeks, stretching and molding my skin almost as a grounding exercise. But my brain was empty, devoid of anything else. It was the first time in a long time I was unsure of my feelings – I’d spent so long feeling so obviously grief-stricken and scared that I almost didn’t know how to function without that actively looming over me. I gave one last sigh at my reflection.

I didn’t see him for almost a day after. I spent most of my time in the cockpit, except for when I got sick of seeing the stars whiz past in beams of light, and so went into the hull. During this time, I forced myself not to think about him, even going as far as to indulge in my grief if it meant distracting myself. But he didn’t stay in his small room forever.

It was the sound of his boots clunking up the stairs into the cockpit that woke me up from my nap. I was in the passenger’s seat, curled up and probably drooling slightly, and quickly regained my composure as he walked past me and to the navcom.

“How are we going,” I asked, still groggy from my sleep.

“Good. Still on track. And the ship isn’t falling apart. You did a good job with the repairs.” I felt my heart beam at the praise.

“Although,” he said, analyzing a screen in front of him, “I think there’s something wrong with the thermoregulator of the hyperdrive navigational system.” I felt my pride being swallowed at those words, but I ignored the feeling and stood up to look at what he was gesturing to. It was nothing serious, a small little flashing icon on the dash that warned of a protentional overheat. He turned his head to me, still leaning on the dash. “Do you think you could take a look at it?”

“Yeah, of course,” I said. “It shouldn’t take long.” I lingered for a moment, hoping he would offer to come down with me. But all he said was “thanks, let me know if you need help,” before sitting down in the seat behind him.

It took me all of five minutes to fix the fuse that was broken, taping up it’s a small tear and putting away the tools afterward. But, as I did so, I found myself drawn to the doors at the front of the hull – the room where the Mandalorian had locked himself up in for the past day. Once everything was packed up, I walked over to the door, hesitating with doubt. Well, he never said I wasn’t allowed in there. In fact, he mentioned nothing of the sort, and curiosity was getting the better of me. So, I pressed the button at the side and the doors slid open.

The room was surprisingly bigger than I would’ve thought – probably about the same size as the cockpit. Opposite the door was a large locker, and on the right was a small bed built into the wall of the ship. There were some crates lying around, mostly empty, and that was really all. I suppose it was a bedroom of sorts. I walked over to the locker, and it sprung open, frightening me. It was full of weapons – blasters of various shapes and sizes, grappling hooks, and a whole number of other machines I couldn’t recognize, let alone name. It sent a shiver down my spine – I wondered how many living things had been killed with the items in this room. I shut the locker quietly.

I looked over the bed, which wasn’t made, and something folded between the sheets caught my eye. I went over and pulled it out to see it was a book, a real one made of paper with a thick brown cover. It wasn’t that I hadn’t seen a book before, obviously, but I was aware that they were becoming less and less common – even amongst us Gra’tanars, who usually avoided excessive technology. When I opened it, however, it was in a language I’d never seen before, made of thin, sharp lines in neat horizontal lines.

“It’s Mando’a,” said a voice behind me, and I spun around with a yelp, almost toppling over into the bed. The Mandalorian was leaning against the door frame, watching me expectantly as I stood there in absent-minded shook. “Oh, right! The book!” I said, catching my breath. I put it down hastily. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

He seemed to take no notice of my stuttering, walking over to me coolly and picking up the book from where I had discarded it. He was beside me now, close enough that I could’ve sworn I heard his breath through the modulator of his helmet.

“I don’t get to speak it very often anymore,” he said, staring at its cover. “It’s nice to… to read it.”

“What’s it about?” I tentatively turned to face him more. He didn’t look at me.

“Legends, mostly,” he said. “Stories about our people, our best warriors.” I scanned his face. There was something melancholy in his voice, that stung of pain and loss. I knew from just that tone that he was as equally alone in the world as I was.

“Teach me something,” I said. He looked up at me with what I imagined was an expression of surprise. Then, unexpectedly, he let out a light chuckle.

“Okay. Let’s see, we can start simple. Su cuy’gar.” The sound of that word sent a shiver down my spine. The language thickened his voice, making it sound even deeper than it had before. I swallowed hard.

“Su – Su cuyargar…”, I managed.

“Close, close – try again. Su cuy’gar.” He said it slowly for my benefit.

“Su cuy’gar,” I said.

“Good. Well done.” He had turned to face me now, and I was acutely aware of how close he was standing to me.

“What… what does it mean?”

“Hello,” he answered, settling on the bed. I sat next to him, slowly. I was aware how there was an underlying discomfort in this gesture – he wasn’t used to this intimate civility. Frankly, neither was I.

“Teach me another,” I said, more confident now. “Vor Entye,” he said, almost hypnotizing me. “Thank you.”

“Vor Entye,” I repeated.

“N’eparavu takisit.”

“N’eparavu takisit.”

“It means ‘sorry’,” he clarified. “Ret’urcye mhi.”

“Ret – Ret’urcye mhi,” I said slowly. “What does that mean?”

He paused for a moment. “Goodbye.”

My heart fluttered. I stared at him, at the small gap of a visor in his helmet, searching it hungrily. I wished he felt more familiar.

“Let me teach you something in return,” I said, adjusting my position to face him more.

“I didn’t know Grat’anarians had a language,” he admitted.

“It’s mostly derelict now,” I admitted. “Only really used in traditional ceremonies or rites. But we all had to learn it growing up.

“Okay,” he said. “Go ahead.”

I thought for a moment, searching my mind for the most meaningful words I could think of. “Jet’ach,” I said.

He repeated it flawlessly, putting my previous stuttering to shame, then looked at me expectantly. My gaze fell to my lap because the sound of him saying that word, a word no one had called me in what felt like a lifetime, pulled something in my chest and I had to fight to suppress the tingling of my eyes. “My grandfather called jet’ach,” I explained. It was hard to find the words to elaborate.

“What… what does it mean?” He was so cautious, so sensitive in the way he asked, that I could’ve sworn he wasn’t wearing his helmet.

“It roughly translates to ‘the bearer of my stories’,” I said shakily. “He called me that because – because I’m the one who will tell others about his life when he’s gone. It’s a very – a very important role bestowed by the patriarch to the eldest child… a responsibility that I owe to his memory.” I felt the tears well up in my eyes. “I just don’t know if I… if I have the strength to tell them. I’m such a… a disappointment,” and my voice cracked on that word. Tears slowly slid down my face.

He reached up, cupping my face in his hand and shifting my eyes to his. I was so taken aback I lost my breath, and he held my face there as he spoke.

“I couldn’t think of a person in this universe who would be disappointed to have you as their granddaughter.”

My body turned to water, and I could feel the blood wash through my body. I couldn’t even stop the next words tumbling out of my mouth.

“I wish I could kiss you.”

Maybe I should’ve felt embarrassed at how easily and brashly I said it, but I couldn’t find it within me to feel any regret. I felt a hundred pounds lighter.

The Mandalorian drew his hand away from my face, and I felt my heart fall into my stomach. I just looked at me for a long, agonizing moment, and then he… he reached up to his helmet. Before I saw anything, and without even really thinking, I shut my eyes. I heard the sound of beskar thump on the metal floor, and I could feel his breath on my face.

“You… you don’t have to close your eyes,” he said, the sound of his voice, his real voice ringing in my ears. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.

“I know,” I confessed, before realizing how rude my abruptness could be interpreted, so I added, “but it might be a bit weird if I was staring at you the whole time.”

He chuckled, sending electric shocks up my whole body that were only numbed when I felt his lips on mine. His lips were so soft, not like you’d expect, and warm, and when his tongue slipped into my mouth I couldn’t hold back my quiet moan.

When he drew back, he lingered close to my ear, and I shivered when he whispered that his name was Din. It made so much sense.

[shadowhuntertrash]

Prompt #4: “There’s… one bed.” for Thomastair! I love your writing!

Thank you so much!! Also I got a little carried away sorry 😳

Thomas didn’t want to go on patrol, he was tired, something he seemed to always be nowadays.  He was even more against going on patrol with Alastair.

   It wasn’t that he didn’t like Alastair, it was quite the opposite actually, he liked him far too much. He always wasn’t big on going on patrol with anyone who wasn’t the merry thieves, Lucie, or Eugenia. It took a long time to learn someone’s fighting style which was why it was uncommon to go patrolling with someone you don’t normally go with.

   When Thomas got to the institute where he was meeting Alastair he went inside, he had gotten there early so he could grab some water from the kitchen before being on his way. He was almost to the kitchen when he saw Will and Tessa walking towards him, they hadn’t seen him yet but it didn’t take them long to spot him, after all his height at 6’4 was rather hard to miss.

   Will smiled brightly at him, his arm around Tessa’s shoulders, Tessa was smiling kindly as she did with everyone. “Tommy! What are you doing here?” Will asked, his face radiating happiness. Thomas smiled back politely. “Hello, Uncle Will. I was just going to get some water before patrol if you don’t mind?” Tessa smiled at him, a smile that held more affection than kindness, one only her immediate family, the Fairchild’s, and the Lightwood’s got. “Of course, you don’t have to ask you know.” 

   Thomas smiled and felt a rush of affection towards his aunt and uncle, they weren’t technically blood-related but they were family in every other way. Thomas smiled tiredly at them and casually hugged Tessa who smiled and hugged him back. “All right there Thomas?” Will asked, concern involuntarily leaking into his tone, Thomas nodded. “I’m alright, just tired I suppose.” 

   Tessa frowned and pulled away taking in his face, “I’m sure someone else could go for you Thomas, you don’t look very well.” Thomas smiled at the motherly gesture, it reminded him of his own mother who was currently with Eugenia in Idris. “It’s quite alright, I’ll be okay.” Thomas said, his smile turned slightly stiff. Will turned his alarmingly perceptive eyes to him. “You can come stay here tonight or for a few nights if you want to Thomas.” Will said carefully, Thomas was always alarmed at how well Will could read people when he wanted to.

   Truthfully, Thomas could use a few nights at the institute. His parents were currently in Idris with his sister, the wake of Barbara’s death heavy on them. Thomas had decided to stay behind, staying at his uncle Gabriel and Aunt Cecily’s house. They had been kind, very kind, but they hadn’t given him any space to himself. They were always trying to distract him, which worked well in the beginning but it didn’t leave him time to grieve, the only time he had time to think about it was at night which led to horrid nightmares every night. So really Thomas could do with a few days of silence at the institute.

   Despite his thinking, Thomas shook his head, “I wouldn’t want to be a bother thank you though.” Tessa’s frown deepened and she put a hand on his arm. “Thomas-” Thomas sidestepped her, her arm falling back to his side. He put on a fake smile, afraid that if they talked now he would lose his calm, collected appearance he had worked so hard to keep up these past few weeks. “If you don’t mind Aunt Tess, I should get some water, I suspect Alastair will be here soon.”

   Tessa smiled sadly, Will kept his face blank but his eyes gave away the concern he was feeling. “Of course sweetie.” Tessa said moving to the side so Thomas could get by. He smiled at them and continued walking, he was a few paces away when Will called his name, he turned around to face them again. “The offer still stands, any time.” Will said, a smile gracing his lips. 

   Thomas gave him a grateful smile, turning around and hurrying to the kitchen for some water. Bridget was there, cleaning some dishes and singingly loudly and off-pitch. “Hello, Bridget!” Thomas said with false charm, Bridget looked and him and smiled back. “Hello lad, water?” She asked and Thomas realized that he came in here for water every time he has patrol, how predictable can he be?

   Nodding his head, Thomas got some water and drank it quickly before headed back to the front of the institute. He paused at the door, knowing full and well that Alastair will be there. After all, punctuality was something Alastar simply couldn’t ignore.

   Running a hand over his face, an attempt to mentally prepare himself, he pushed the doors open. As predicted, Alastair was leaning against a pillar, eyes closed and his head thrown back. Thomas couldn’t help but stare at him, he looked like a statue, carved beauty that only artists could dream of. 

   Alastair’s eyes opened too soon and Thomas was forced to stop watching the beautiful person in front of him. “Where were you?” Alastair asked with a raised eyebrow as he pushed himself off the pillar. Thomas gestured vaguely behind him, “Institute.” He answered, gingerly checking his pockets for his stele and seraph blade. His bolas was also in his pocket but in case he lost it he always had a knife.

   Thomas watched as Alastair’s eye followed the movements, an unreadable expression crossing his eyes. Thomas ignored it to the best of his ability and turned to Alastair. “Ready?” Alastair watched him for a second before nodding slowly. “Are you alright Lightwood?” He asked in an uncharacteristically concerned voice. Thomas nodded and waved the concern away. “Tired is all.” He said, wondering just how bad he looked to have had three people question him in the last ten minutes.

   Alastair didn’t seem to buy it and took to staying close to his side all night. Thomas noticed it but was far too tired to care. When their patrol was over, both having said a total of five words the whole night with no demon activity, they made their way to the institute to report the lack of activity.

   Right as both boys made to leave Will stopped them, a guilty look on his face that made Thomas’ heart sink. “I know you’re tired Thomas and you know if there was any way I could avoid asking you I would, but someone needs to go to a muggle town to check reports of demon activity about six hours away and you two are the only available ones at the moment.” Thomas sighed deeply, nodding his head tiredly, Alastair watched him with a frown. 

   “Mr. Herondale I could go, I don’t think Thomas is quite up for the trip.” Will nodded, running an exasperated hand over his face. “I know and normally I would let you, but there were seven reported demons and I was already hesitant on sending just two people. I simply cannot allow you to go by yourself.” Alastair turned to Thomas again but Thomas just smiled, attempting to wipe the tiredness from his face.

   “It’s quite alright Uncle Will, I’ll be okay.” Will watched him with sad eyes before nodding slowly. “I am sorry.” Will said hugging Thomas, it was slightly awkward due to Thomas being so tall but neither of them seemed bothered by it. Alastair watched, a bittersweet feeling settling in his chest. No adult other than his mother had dared shared any physical affection towards him, much less a man, and Will wasn’t even Thomas’ father.

   Will pulled away and ruffled Thomas’ hair before reminding them to be careful and to take the carriage. They walked out the door in silence, Thomas felt the entirety of the bone dead tiredness setting in him.

   He knew he couldn’t sleep in the carriage, he couldn’t risk having a nightmare and screaming in front of Alastair. It was already two in the morning so they decided they would go for an hour before stopping at a hotel and then finishing the trip in the morning.

   When they were settling in the back, Thomas on one side and Alastair across from him, Alastair turned to him poorly masked concern on his face that made Thomas sigh. “Are you sure you’re alright Lightwood? You look all pale and sickly, terrible to put it frankly.” Thomas laughed bitterly, “Well thank you for that Alastair.” Thomas said, his eyes closed to avoid the burning he was currently feeling from having his eyes open for more than twenty-four hours.

   Alastair blushed and kicked Thomas’s leg lightly. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Thomas laughed quietly. “I know.” They fell into a comfortable silence. Thomas was fidgeting, trying desperately to fight off the need for sleep that was slowing his movements considerably. Alastair had fallen asleep fairly quickly and Thomas silently cursed him for leaving him awake alone.

   After about an hour the carriage pulled to a stop in front of a small hotel. Thomas grabbed their small bags, preciously packed by Will, and checked in, putting off waking Alastair up. The lady that checked him in informed him that there was only one room available, Thomas just smiled and told her they’d take it, shoving down the rising panic. Once Thomas had everything settled he went back downstairs to wake Alastair.

   When Thomas gently shook him Alastair groaned, slowly opening his eyes. “Thomas?” Alastair asked, sounding so utterly confused that Thomas couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah it’s me, we’re at the hotel.” Understanding dawned in Alastair’s eyes and he stood up, stretching slightly. They climbed out of the carriage, Alastair went to the back and turned to Thomas confused as to what had happened with his luggage. 

   Thomas shrugged, stifling a yawn. “I put it in our room already.” Alastair quirked an eyebrow. “Our room?” Thomas nodded slowly, his brain too tired to comprehend things at a normal pace. “There was only one left.” Alastair made an ‘ah’ sound and walked with Thomas up the stairs to their room, once again sticking close to Thomas’ side.

   When Thomas opened the door and walked in Alastair paused. “There’s… one bed.” He said slowly, Thomas turned to him confused before looked at the singular bed in the room. Groaning Thomas sat heavily on the end, propping his chin on the palm of his hand. “Sorry I wasn’t paying attention when I came in.” He said, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “We can go another hour and find another one.” Thomas proposed, silently willing Alastair to turn down that idea, he was far too tired to go anymore.

   Alastair seemed to have similar thoughts. “It’s quite alright Thomas, we can stay here.” Thomas nodded, shoving down the fact that he would have to share a bed with Alastair, beautiful, stunning, unreadable Alastair. Thomas went to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed while Alastair changed in the room.

   When they were done they switched and Thomas laid in bed while Alastair took the bathroom to get ready for bed. Thomas took the left side out of habit and curled up, Anna always said he curled up to try and protect himself from the dreams and Thomas couldn’t help but agree.

   Thomas was already drifting by the time Alastair walked in and took the other side. It was weird sharing a bed with someone, the last person he had shared a bed with was Barbara. Thomas quickly shoved away the thought, knowing that he was going to have a bad night if he was thinking about Barbara before he fell asleep.

   Blaming his delirium from lack of sleep Thomas turned to Alastair in bed and closed his eyes. “Talk to me.” Alastair looked a little surprised at the demand but didn’t question. “Cordelia has been talking nonstop about Lucie and becoming parabatai. She goes through these weird weekly thins where one week that’s all she’ll talk about and then the next week she doesn’t talk about it at all and then the next week it’s all she can talk about again. It’s like a never-ending cycle.” He said laughing, Thomas joined him and laughed quietly. He could already feel the pull of sleep and silently thanked Alastair. 

   Right before he was pulled into dreamland he felt a calming hand in his hair, “Sweet dreams Thomas.”

   Barabara stood in front of him, a smile plastered across her beautiful face. “Oh Thomas, isn’t it lovely?” She asked, her eyes skimming the lake. They were having a picnic at the lake, the water was shimmering and reflecting the sun in pretty waves, the trees were swaying softly with the breeze.

   Thomas laid on his back, the blanket blocking the grass that would have been poking him uncomfortably. “It is.” He agreed, smiling at his sister. They sat in silence, watching the scenery, and hearing the birds chirping peacefully.

   Turning to tell his sister to look at the cliffs where a deer was standing, his head held high, he saw his sister’s confused face, a startling shade of white. She was looking down at her white dress that was slowly turning red in the middle. “Barbara?” Thomas asked, not yet catching on to what was happening.

   Slowly, his sister turned her face to his, her beautiful face was now marked with cuts and blood. “You’re bleeding.” Thomas said, alarmed as he realized that the growing red stain on her dress was also blood. Barbara stared at him, her normally kind eyes cold.

  “You did this. This is your fault, Thomas.” Thomas’ eyes widened and his eyes snapped back up to his sister’s. “What?” Thomas asked, confusion and hurt settling in his voice. Barbara glared at him, anger and blood turning her face ugly. 

   “You did this. You should have been faster, you should have been there.” Thomas wasn’t breathing properly anymore, breaths coming in too fast and not leaving fast enough. “You killed me, Thomas. You protected your friends over me.” She said, anger gone, sadness now laced in her voice. “No, I didn’t! I tried to help!” Thomas said desperately trying to make his sister believe him.

   “Why did you kill me? What did I do to you? You killed me.” She said again, betrayal obvious on her face. Thomas felt tears falling down his face. “No, I didn’t! It’s not my fault!” Barbara’s eyes narrowed. “It is Thomas, yo know it is. You could have been faster, you should have been with me. You should have protected me but you didn’t and now I’m dead.” Thomas let out a sob and shook his head. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Barbara shook her head, her brown curls bouncing, the tips soaked in blood. “It’s your fault Thomas, it’s your fault.”

   Thomas backed away quickly. “I’m dead and it’s your fault. Thomas, you did this. Thomas, Thomas, Thomas.” Suddenly everything went quiet and then Barbara’s eyes widened and her body jerked. “You’re fault.” She whispered before she collapsed to the ground, a mixture of blood and beauty.

   Thomas jerked awake, sitting up straight and breathing hard. Tears were falling down his face and he dropped his head in his hands trying to take calming breaths. His sister’s face burned into his memories, her voice piercing his heart.

   “Thomas?” A sleep-laced voice asked beside him. Thomas in his panic had forgotten that Alastair was next to him, he let out a pitiful sound and closed his eyes tighter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I-I didn’t m-mean-” Thomas was cut off by the hysterical sob that escaped him.

   Alastair sat up quickly, fumbling with the light switch next to him. “Thomas? Are you okay?” He asked distressed. Thomas couldn’t think of anything else but Barbara’s betrayed voice. “You killed me. You should have been faster.”  Thomas was shaking and crying and he couldn’t breathe, he felt a hand on his back but could barely hear the words Alastair was saying.

   Fingers grabbed his chin and forced Thomas to look at Alastair, desperation and fear in his eyes. “Thomas, what happened?” He asked, moving closer to Thomas who dropped his head helplessly on Alastair’s chest. “I killed her. It was my fault I killed her.” Alastair brought his arms around Thomas. “What are you talking about? You have to talk to me Thomas, who? Who did you kill?” Thomas shuddered and buried his head further into Alastair’s chest.

   “Barbara! It’s my fault she was dead. She kept- she kept telling me it was my fault.” He broke off with another sob and felt Alastair’s arms tighten around him in a protective manner. “Oh Thomas.” He said sadly, one hand going up to run his fingers through Thomas’ hair. “That was not your fault Thomas. None of that was your fault. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

   Thomas pulled away, staring at Alastair’s eyes, willing Alastair to understand. “No! I should have been with her, I should have moved faster, I should have helped her. I killed her Alastair, it was my fault.” Alastair’s eyes were watery now and he shook his head, pulling Tomas back against him. 

   His face pressed against Alastair’s neck and Thomas couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his mouth. “Thomas I promise you none of that was your fault. There was no way you could have saved her, no one could. Oliver was right next to her and he couldn’t save her either. It was not your fault.” Thomas felt the hysteria leave him. He wanted to believe Alastair, he really did but he couldn’t bring himself to, not with Barbara’s voice whispering in his ear.

   They sat in silence, the tears finally subsiding, until Thomas thought he might burn from the embarrassment he felt. He had not only had a nightmare in front of Alastair but had completely fallen apart. The only thing keeping him from dying on the spot was the fact that Alastair was still holding him, murmuring comforting things in his ear while he soothingly rubbed Thomas’ back.

   Not wanting to pull away in fear of Alastair seeing how red he was, he mumbled a quiet ‘I’m sorry’ into Alastair’s neck. Alastair sighed and pulled back, Thomas immediately looked down but Alastair put a finger under his chin and gently lifted his head. “Don’t ever be sorry for feeling things Thomas, it was obvious you’ve been keeping this in.” Thomas closed his eyes, he wasn’t aware of how much he needed to hear that until someone said it.

   “I’m here Thomas, if you ever need me. I’m here if you need to talk, or if you want to sit in silence. I’m here.” He said gently, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. Thomas, now more overwhelmed with gratefulness instead of embarrassment, leaned forward and hugged Alastair tightly. “Thank you.” He said, tiredness abundant in his voice.

   Alastair squeezed him gently before releasing him and laying back down. “Are you going to be okay?” He asked quietly. Thomas nodded slowly, laying down and sitting in silence for a minute before scooting closer to Alastair, craving the comfort and safety that came with Alastair. 

   It only took a second for Alastair to react, opening his arms as an invitation. Thomas let out a breath and fell into them, curling up to Alastair’s side. Alastair slid his arms around Thomas’ waist. Just before he drifted off, comfort making it hard to fight off the needed sleep, he felt warm lips on top of his head.

   “You’re okay now Thomas, I’ve got you.”

[kyber-crystal]

Maybe It’s Meant To Be

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~3.7k

Summary: Sometimes, love finds people in unexpected ways. In this case, fate has extra special plans for America’s golden boy and one of SHIELD’s best agents in history. And you know there’s no running away from fate once she’s set out your futures for you. 

Warnings: mentions of violence and blood, angst, and once again, soft steve :)

A/N: I haven’t attempted a soulmate AU in over a year. this is one of my fav works but it’s really poorly written rip. The age gap between you and Steve is ~3 years. 2017 AU where they made up after the Accords :) Steve’s back with his WS look bc that suit was hot af

Tags: @pies-writes-and-more​ this is for you! THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS BEING SO ACTIVE ON MY BLOG AND FOR YOUR SWEET AND SUPER ENCOURAGING WORDS. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. AND @marvelsswansong BECAUSE YOU'RE MY IDOL AND I LOOK UP TO YOU YOU'RE AMAZING

Soulmates.

You'd heard plenty about them growing up. Seeing your parents' perfect relationship blossom over the years piqued your interest, and for the longest time, your only wish was to find someone who could love you with their whole heart and soul and mind, like the way your Mom and Dad loved each other.

Unfortunately, as all stories must come to an end, love stories had to find their ending. And not all of them ended on a high note.

Their jobs should've kept them apart from the beginning. Your mother was head surgeon at one of the best hospitals in Brooklyn, and your father was head of SHIELD's navy division. Constantly out and about, they were rarely granted any time to rest. Yet they still found a way to make things work; and it all started because of a run-in at a café around the corner.

Then when you were fifteen, you got word that your father had been deployed overseas again, but this time, he wasn't coming back.

You had to stand there and watch your mother slowly fall apart, breaking down a little more each day until she fell gravely ill. A mere week after her diagnosis of cardiomyopathy, she passed away in her sleep.

A person's soulmark didn't appear at a specific time. It could show up at any point in their lives, when the Gods believed the time was right for them. When those Gods felt the time was right for you to find out who it was, you'd feel a slight tingle where the mark was etched into your skin.

Some people didn't receive the soulmark at all. Along with this came a sense of freedom to fall in love with whoever they pleased, but often times it would end in a loveless relationship. But they were additionally granted the ability of being able to carry on by themselves.

If your soulmate got injured in any way, you would feel the same pain that they endured. And if they died, you would carry a weight around with you for the rest of your life that slowly progressed into a disease. So ultimately, those left in the world without their soulmate would also die in the end, further proving the claim of humans being unable to live without love.

One by one, you watched your friends find their match. They would excited come up to you, goofy grins on their faces as they showed you their marks. You were happy for them in the beginning, of course. But as years went by, and you passed adulthood with still no sign of your designated soulmark, you slowly began losing hope. There was no point in looking forward to the future when you watched one fall apart before your very eyes.

Maybe it was because of your job. None of the Avengers had received their soulmarks either, asides from Tony and Pepper. But they were an exception. Everyone could see it coming from the day they first met, judging by the way they lovingly gazed at each other from across the room. It was a match made in heaven.

You believed that maybe, just maybe, you were destined to be alone. So when you woke up one morning with the burn mark on your wrist, you were taken completely by surprise.

"Hey, Tony? Bruce?" you asked, walking into the lab with a frown. "I need to ask you guys a quick question."

"Ask away, Killer," Tony nodded, using the nickname he'd given you years ago when you first joined the initiative. "What's on your mind?"

"So, um..." you fiddled with the sleeve of your sweatshirt for a moment, before pulling it up to reveal the mark, "this happened."

"That's a soulmark," he stated.

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," you rolled your eyes. "But why would it appear now? I don't see any sign of me meeting them anytime soon."

"When did it appear?"

"I don't know. I woke up this morning and saw it."

"Let me take a look at that," Bruce carefully took ahold of your wrist, squinting as he adjusted his glasses to peer at the mark, "huh. So it appeared last night...have you felt any side-effects?"

"Not that I know of yet, no..."

"If you start feeling any severe symptoms, I can prescribe you some medication to deal with the pain, though I doubt that's going to happen. In the meantime, we need to figure out who this could be."

"Imagine if it was someone who already died, and I'm slowly dying right now," you joked.

"No, if that were to be true, you'd be lying in a hospital bed right now."

"Does the symbol have any specific meaning?"

"That I'm not so sure about," Tony shrugged.

Bruce was silent as he began typing away for a bit, before turning the screen over to you.

"I've checked out over a dozen different sites about this, and..."

"And what?"

"Well...once both people discover their mark, they have a week to find each other before both of them disappear off the face of the earth, forever."

"Sounds like a damn time bomb to me," you muttered. "What the hell? I thought that the point of this whole thing was the gods trying to push us with someone else! Not the other way around!"

"I don't know, Y/N," Bruce sighed. "Feel free to do your own research, but everything I've read up on so far says the same thing."

"So basically, what you're telling me is I'm gonna die if I don't find out who the hell has this same mark as I do," you repeated.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Well, I'll have to worry about that later. Got a briefing with Cap, Bucky, and Wilson in five. Fury's gonna kill me if I'm late again," you breathed out as you tugged your hoodie's sleeve back down. "See ya."

"Agent Y/N," Nick Fury gave you a curt nod as you burst into the meeting room, breathless. "I hope you slept well last night."

"Of course."

"I need you four to track down a weapons dealer in Skagway," he explained as he handed Steve a black manila file folder, "shut down the base, download the intel onto the flashdrive. You’ll be staying at a safe house in Juneau afterwards for about a week to keep things on the down-low in case something goes wrong. Simple in-and-out job."

"When are we leaving?" Sam questioned.

"You're taking off in half an hour. Suit up."

You sighed. Finding your soulmate would just have to wait, then.

...

"Y/N, look out!"

You quickly whipped around and narrowly missed a bullet whizzing past you, as Steve tugged you around the corner, an arm wrapped firmly around your torso as he hid you both behind his shield.

You gasped as you felt a sharp pain in your chest, and Steve immediately pulled away from you in alarm, gripping your shoulders worriedly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you panted, trying to steady your rapid breathing, “I’m fine. But we’re gonna have to split up from here if we wanna get the job done faster.”

“Y/N, I can’t-”

“Steve,” you interrupted, the firm tone of voice making him immediately shut up. “I can handle myself just fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure! Go find Sam and Bucky, and I’ll meet you guys by the rendezvous point as soon as I’m done. Okay?”

“Alright.” He looked around for a moment before stepping away, as if he was hesitant to leave you on your own.

Ignoring the slight ache in your chest, you parted ways, darting down the hall with your guns up and ears alert. 

From there, it was easy to fall into your usual routine. Keep all eyes and ears open; don’t hesitate, shoot on sight unless ordered otherwise. If necessary, engage powers but if not, use your fists or bullets. The mantra repeated itself over and over in your head as you followed through with your job.

You hid behind a tower of wooden crates, back pressed up against the steel walls. “Sam. Status update?”

“Controls room with Barnes, disabling all security systems. Steve’s retrieving intel from the north wing. You?”

“Outside on standby,” you murmured, keeping a finger pressed to your ear. Three technicians were loading equipment onto crates as the other six stood guard several yards away. “I make nine hostiles on the load dock straight ahead at twelve o’clock. Three dozen in total scattered around the area. Most likely preparing for an overseas arms trade. We’ll have to stop them.”

“And...done. We’re heading your way,” Bucky reported. “Be there in three.”

“Roger that.”

Exactly three minutes and two seconds later Bucky showed up, with Steve and Sam in tow. You came out from your hiding spot and began making your way towards the loading dock where the agents were stationed. They were quick to stop what they were doing and noticed the four of you approaching, whipping their snipers out and proceeding to open fire.

...

Your breath came out in white wisps of fog as you got caught in between a fistfight with one of the three dozen men on the docks, the freezing cold slowing all your movements and making them feel more sluggish than usual. If it weren’t for the thick material of your suit and your enhancements, you would’ve succumbed to the harsh weather hours ago.

The man captured you into a tight headlock with his thick arm but despite your frostbite you were too fast; you quickly whipped around and grabbed his wrist, twisting it to the side. His eyes widened slightly as he cried out in pain, the sickening crunch of bone echoing through the frigid Alaskan air as you swiftly dodged each one of moves as he attempted to come at you, countering with a sharp right hook to his jaw. 

His body slumped to the ground with a thump. 

“Why the hell do you even carry around a sniper if your fists do all the work for you?” Sam yelled over the cacophony as he released Redwing, swooping down from the rooftops. “Seriously, you don’t need guns! You’re strong enough as it is!”

“I prefer versatility in fights, Wilson!” you yelled back, grunting as you dodged a blow to the stomach, sweeping out your attacker’s feet from underneath him as his head smacked against the wall, before sliding down to the ground with a dull thud. 

“Y/N, look out-” Bucky called out, but it was too late. You didn’t get to hear his warning in time before you felt something cold and hard hit your lower abdomen. A yell of pain ripped through your throat as you felt a sticky warmth spread across your skin, your knees hitting the ground as you clutched the wound.

At that exact moment, Steve felt a sharp pain flare up his side as well. “Shit,” he cursed to himself, “Buck, cover me so I can get to her.”

You were barely clinging on to life by the time he reached you. Your breathing was heavy and labored, your eyes beginning to roll back as you struggled to stay awake. Everything hurt. Your arms and legs felt like they were weighed down with bricks. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t open your mouth to scream, either - you had no energy left to do so.

“Come on, Y/N, stay with me, please stay with me,” he muttered as he began carefully applying pressure to your wound. You let out a hiss of pain at the same time he did. “Just hang in there for me, please. Sam’s getting the Quinjet ready. We’re gonna get out of here in just a few minutes, okay? Please don’t die on me.”

“Look, if I don’t make it-”

“Don’t say that,” he spoke in between clenched teeth while fighting back tears of his own, “you’re not going to die. Not today, not tomorrow, and certainly not on my watch.”

“Steve…” you croaked out, the stinging from the wound almost becoming impossible to bear. Your eyes were becoming heavier by the second, your body throbbing painfully now that all the adrenaline had worn off. It was a struggle just to take in a single breath and to stay awake. "I'm so tired, I can't do this anymore..."

He disappeared from your line of sight as your began seeing spots at the edges of your vision momentarily, before reappearing and pulling you into his lap, trying to put pressure on the area of injury again in an attempt to stem the bleeding. But it didn’t seem to work. There was so much blood. So much of it, coming out so fast. There was no way you’d last out here for longer than ten minutes before bleeding to death.

"Stay with me..." he murmured as he looked up around him. "Hang in there for a few more minutes, please…Damn it, Sam, how much longer is this gonna take? Y/N’s down. We gotta get her to the safe house as soon as we can. She’s bleeding out.”

"Three minutes, tops. I’m circling the perimeter as an extra precaution," Sam replied. "You guys hang tight for a sec."

"We don't have time!" he raised his voice. "Just hurry the hell over here."

"I'm so sorry," you choked out before going into a coughing fit, blood dripping down your lips and chin much to Steve’s alarm. "I'm sorry for everything, I'm sorry for being reckless and not keeping a look ou—"

"Shhh, it's okay," he soothed, "There’s nothing to be sorry about. Just save your energy for later, okay? You're gonna be just fine."

"Hold my hand," you begged hoarsely.

"I already am," the super-soldier answered, but his look shifted to that of an alarmed one when he realized you couldn't feel it. "Y/N—"

"I'm cold," you said weakly, already feeling your limbs grow heavy and numb and your vision growing blurrier with each passing second. "I'm so tired, Cap, I just wanna sleep—"

"No no no, please don't leave me," he pleaded as he felt his head begin to spin as well. Where had the sudden wave of dizziness come from? "Hang in there for a little longer, please, I l—"

You didn’t get to hear the rest of his sentence before your eyes fluttered shut and everything went dark.

...

When you came to, your throat felt dry and raw, the metallic taste of dried blood around your lips and chin overwhelming your senses as you adjusted your eyes to the harsh bright lights streaming into the room. It looked like you were in some sort of antique coastal house, strangely void of belongings with the only decoration being a plain floral calendar hung on the wall opposite you, above the fireplace.

You were still in your suit, but your wound had been treated and wrapped up in a thick set of bandages. The couch you were on was old but extremely comfortable, so you found yourself not wanting to sit up at the same time you wanted to get up and look around.

The blinds were drawn shut, but the sunlight still managed to shine through. It was light outside, but you  weren’t sure what time it really was. The walls were a dull grey, and if you listened hard enough you could hear the faint ticking of a nearby clock and probably Bucky or Sam talking on the phone upstairs with someone in hushed whispers.

You finally pulled yourself up into a sitting position, glancing around at your surroundings. Someone quietly entered the living room and you looked up to see Steve. His shoulders sagged in relief upon seeing that you were awake.

“Hey,” his voice came out so softly it took both of you by surprise. You moved over slightly to make room for him to sit. “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” you groaned lightly, feeling a dull ache in your stomach where you’d been hit. “But other than that, I’m fine. What about you? Did you get hurt anywhere?”

“Body aches that come and go, but I’m fine. It isn’t your place to be worrying about me right now though, Y/N. You got shot.”

The curtains fluttered and a cool breeze rushed in, making you shiver. Steve took notice and stood up to go light up the fireplace, then sat back down and wrapped the fleece blanket around your body. You let out a small sigh of contentment. “Thanks.”

“Are you sure you’re alright? You knocked out for over twenty-six hours .”

“I’m fine, Steve, just tired...hey, how’s Bucky and Sam?”

“Sam’s upstairs radioing Fury on the mission status. Bucky’s taking a nap in the guest room.”

“Oh. Okay. So, I-” you were interrupted by a sharp stabbing sensation in your wrist. “Ow. Fuck.”

“Language,” he joked lightly, but when he saw the obvious pained expression on your face, his face fell. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just...I get those random pains from time to time. I don’t know why, but...they’ve gotten worse since we took off for Skagway and then came here...”

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, eyes glassy with unshed tears, “I should’ve kept a closer watch over you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine...I should’ve watched my own back better.”

You both fell into an awkward silence for several minutes before he spoke up again, the realization finally dawning on him. 

"Y/N."

"What?"

"Your wrist."

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you looked down and saw the star glowing brightly, sending a white-hot pain down your arm. "What about it?"

Steve pulled at his shirt's sleeve for a few seconds before lifting it up to reveal the same exact symbol.

"We're soulmates," you breathed out, the realization hitting you like a flash flood.

"Yeah, I guess we are, huh," he smiled softly.

“W-when did yours appear?”

“Monday afternoon.”

“Mine appeared in the morning...I showed it to Tony and Bruce and they said I had a week to find who it was or both me and my soulmate would die. So I guess we got lucky, huh? Only four more days, then...”

“Yeah, we did,” he exhaled. “I’m glad you’re the one. I can’t imagine living out the rest of my life with anyone else.”

“But Peggy...”

“She found her soulmate decades ago,” he explained, “which explained why our relationship was so short-lived. I didn’t expect to find mine...especially not after coming out of the ice. Maybe I had this coming from the get-go, I’d wonder...”

“Then how come they’d appear now?” Your brows furrowed together in confusion. “I don’t get it. We’ve known each other for years.”

“Because it was only this year that I accepted it.”

“Accepted what?”

“That I’d fallen in love with you, and I kept that inside for far too long.”

“You...what?” You were officially rendered speechless. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, face breaking into a gorgeous, million-dollar grin before turning serious again, lowering his voice. “Y/N, I’m in love with you. You are my infinity and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re my present and my future, and I hate that I couldn’t see that sooner. I should’ve known from the start that Peggy and I wouldn’t work out, but I never understood why...until I met you. I didn’t believe in the concept of soulmates because I felt I was undeserving of that love, but then you came along...and I started hoping and praying I’d find someone who’d love me as much as I love you. So now that I know for sure it’s you, that it always has been and always will be...I couldn’t be more happier that you’re my soulmate.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until he reached forward to brush your hair away from your face and wipe the stray tears that fell, before wrapping an arm around you and gently pulling you towards him.

“God, I made you cry, I’m so sorry,” he choked on a sob of his own. “I’m the worst.”

“I’m not mad at you, Steve,” you sniffed as you wiped your nose with your sleeve, and looked up and cracked a small grin. “You’re just so cheesy.”

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, so quiet you almost didn’t catch what he said. 

“You can kiss me any day, Captain,” you smiled.

“I love you more than you know.”

“I know. I love you too.”

He then brought a hand up to cup your face, allowing his thumb to lightly skim against your cheek, his warm breath fanning against your skin.

When his lips met yours, it was like you were turning back the clock. Everything in the world stopped and held its breath,  and all the hurt, all the sadness and heartache and pain bottled up inside your body, washed away.

...

BONUS

“HOLY SHIT, Y’ALL ARE SOULMATES?”

The sound of Sam’s screeching made you finally break apart for air. You could’ve been like that for two minutes, two hours, or two weeks, you weren’t sure.

You blushed and quickly averted your gaze. 

Steve’s face was as red as a tomato. “Yeah. We are.”

“I KNEW IT! I KNEW SOMETHING WAS GONNA HAPPEN BETWEEN THEM SOON! PAY UP, BARNES! YOU OWE ME TWENTY BUCKS.”

“Come on, man,” Bucky groaned, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “We’re gonna head back home soon, anyways! And you’re not even poor.”

“A bet’s a bet, Barnes.”

“Of course you two bet on it,” you groaned. “Classic Sambucky activity.”

...

NINE MONTHS LATER

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Captain Rogers,” Fury announced, a rare smile gracing his normally stoic features. 

Steve did his best not to break down sobbing as he slid the ring onto your finger. With the backdrop of the waves gently crashing against the shore and the sun slowly sinking lower and lower into the horizon, he leaned down and cupped your face in his hands, passionately pressing his lips to yours. Your soulmarks glowed brightly in tandem, lighting up in a brilliant gold hue. 

Needless to say, there wasn’t a single dry eye in the house. 

[faofinn]

No. 2 - TALKING IS OVERRATED

@whumptober2021

@whumptober-archive

garotte | choking | gagged

Recovery had been really slow. Painfully slow, really. So long in hospital, Fao had lost track of the endless days dragging by. But he’d gotten out, and gone home, and done the endless appointments and physio and therapy and meds and jumped through all of the hoops they’d given him. Eventually, in an effort to find some of his old freedoms back, he found himself a flat in London, not far from where he’d lived as a student. Not long after moving in he acquired a housemate, through a mutual friend. Fao and Ollie got on really well, they clicked almost immediately, and it was nice to have someone who didn’t pity him, hadn’t known him before. The dog came not long after that, a little scrap of a puppy they found at the side of the road. Arrow was a sweet little thing, though he kept Fao up all hours of the night needing to be bottle fed. He was worth it. It was a purpose again. It made it so much easier to deal with everything when he had a little life depending on him.

He'd even started entertaining the idea of getting a job, which was as terrifying as it was exciting. But before that, he had one final surgery to get through. It was expected, it had been on the cards from the start. He'd spoken at length with his consultant, and it was a necessary evil to get things where they should be. At least it was planned, routine. They could schedule everything, and plan ahead, and nothing was rushed or panicked.

When Fao showed up to the hospital that morning, though, he felt awful. He knew it was the nerves, but he'd slept terribly and he had an awful headache already. It wasn't exactly off to a good start. Ollie had driven him in, which at least meant he had company, and as he nervously got settled in his bay, he didn't feel so alone. It really did make a difference.

He hated this side of things. Recently, he hasn’t felt like much of a doctor at all, but being back in hospital just made it so much worse. It was so familiar, it was almost like being teased. He longed to be on the other side, rushing around doing this and that. He'd kill for an elective list, even. Just for something to do. He desperately missed it. He sat chatting to Ollie, which kept him entertained enough, asking about whatever he'd done at work over the last few days. Elective orthopaedics wasn't that exciting, but it was far more exciting than overthinking everything.

He was so nervous he couldn't settle, shifting his weight about and fidgeting in his chair. Twice Ollie told him off for crossing his legs. Do you want a dislocation on top of everything else?! He'd asked, exasperated.

He didn’t have to wait long, though. Given his history, he was first on the list, and after speaking to his consultant and his anaesthetist, they took him down to theatre.

They let Ollie down with him, on account of him knowing his way around theatres. It was nice, to have him with him. They’d not known each other long, but Ollie seemed to know just what he needed, just how to keep him calm.

He didn’t even feel the cannula go in, didn’t panic as the drugs went in. Ollie was there, he was safe, and as the world faded to black he was surprisingly calm.

From there, he was intubated and quickly taken into theatre. Ollie was left to wait, and to update Fao's family. Thankfully, it wasn't a particularly long surgery, though it took longer than the surgeon had initially estimated.

Eventually, Fao was transferred out into recovery. Ollie could stop pacing the cold theatre corridors, and rushed to be with him. He didn't come around well, which was standard, apparently - Ollie had never been there before. But Fao had told him, as had Sheila. He held his hand and soothed him through the nausea and the shaking, and once he'd settled off back to sleep, he called Sheila to let her know things were done and he was okay.

Of course, as soon as Fao called her, Sheila headed in. She’d bargained with him before his surgery, eventually being allowed to visit after, instead of taking him in. She knew he needed his space, wanted his independence, but he was still her son. She was going to be there for him no matter what.

The staff recognised her from the countless previous admissions, letting her straight through. She met Ollie first, pulling the young man in for a hug (Whether he wanted one or not, really). It wasn’t a surprise that Fao had come round poorly, but it was a relief to know he’d had someone to be there with him. With Sheila there, Ollie disappeared to grab a coffee - god knows he needed it.

She sat by Fao’s bed, waiting for her son to wake up. He was fast asleep and she didn’t want to wake him. At least when he was asleep, he wouldn’t be in pain - she knew his options for pain relief were limited and the staff were often stingy.

He stirred after a while, pain pulling at his attention and dragging him from his sleep. He was warm and his limbs were heavy, but he shuffled in bed and blinked open his eyes.

“Mum?” He managed to get out, forcing his eyes to focus.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She smiled at him, taking his hand. “I’m here.”

“Mm. ‘m ‘kay.”

“I know. You did so well.”

“Ollie?” He asked, after a long pause.

“Sent him for a coffee.”

“Sleepy.”

“That’s alright. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”

He nodded, his eyes already closed. It wasn't hard to drift back to sleep, despite the pain. He slept for a while, not stirring as they checked on him. He was aware of them transferring him back to the ward, the sound of the lift and the changing of the light as the bed moved.

He didn't properly stir again until a bit later, when Ollie was back with Sheila. Somehow, he felt worse than before. More woozy, and the taste of blood in his mouth was stronger. His breath hitched and he did his best to move in bed a bit, trying to sit up more.

“Easy, Fao. Take a moment, let me help.” Sheila was by his side immediately, trying to help.

Sitting made the dizziness worse, his blood pressure sinking, and he just felt wrong. He whimpered, trying to clear his throat. It was sore anyway, and dry from the oxygen, but suddenly it was as though he couldn't breathe. He coughed, and then he couldn't stop coughing, and then blood coated his tongue. It caught in his throat, too close to before. He tried to spit it out, but everything hurt, and he reached blindly for Sheila, panicked.

“I’ve got you, it’s okay, it’s okay.” She promised, stroking through his hair. “Just breathe, you’re okay.”

He couldn't breathe. That was the problem. The world was hazy and he was dizzy and he couldn't breathe. He was too hot then too cold and it was just like it had been after the crash. He coughed and then retched, managing to bring some blood up, but it wasn't enough. He was still stuck, choking.

Ollie shared a look with Sheila, worried. This was bad.

“You’re okay, Fao.” She continued, trying to keep her son calm as Ollie called for help. She pulled Fao onto his side, an attempt to help him clear his throat.

He whimpered as she pulled him over, between the coughing and gagging. Everything hurt, and the room span with the change in position, making him feel even worse.

Ollie was in the corridor at this point, barking orders at people. It wasn't often he was snappy, he rarely even shouted, but there was some sense of urgency needed.

There wasn’t much Sheila could actually do, trying to soothe her son. There was so much blood, far too much, and she knew it wasn’t good. She tried her best to get Fao’s attention, to try and ta;l him through it. He was obviously stuck in a flashback too, which only made things worse.

Soon enough, the bay was a hive of activity. The nurses called in the ward doctors who were desperately trying to get in touch with Fao’s surgeon. But he was in the middle of a list, and when his registrar finally arrived on the ward, he paled somewhat. They then had to find a consultant who was free, and an available theatre (and team) to find out what the fuck was going on, and fix it.

Things were quickly sorted, breathing got somewhat easier for Fao, just briefly, though the taste of blood was still overwhelming, between the retching. He was very quickly transferred back to theatres, and unlike before there was no taking their time. In a busy theatre he was out in seconds, no soothing words and gentle touches. There was just the ice cold burn of the drugs, and then nothingness.

That left Ollie with Sheila in an uncomfortably empty bedspace. She was covered in her son's blood, and he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Uh, Sheila, maybe you should, uh, change?”

She couldn’t help the jump, lost in her thoughts. “I’ve not got anything to change into.”

“Fao’s got stuff.” He said gently. “He packed way too much.”

“Uh, yeah. Of course. I’ll change.” She stood, going through Fao’s bag and pulling out a hoodie and top. “I won’t be long.”

Ollie nodded. “Go on, I’ll wait here.”

“Not like we’ve got anywhere to be.” She said as she left, mainly to herself. She didn’t take long, dumping her clothes in a patient bag and heading back to Fao’s room to wait.

“True. He’ll be okay. Finn around?”

“He’s working. Said he’d be up when he could. I text him to tell him there were complications, that he had to go back to theater, but he hasn’t seen that yet.”

“Oh, Fao did tell me he was on placement. Poor sod.”

"I swear they try and one-up each other on everything."

“So I've heard. He'll be okay.”

"Fao didn't have a clue where he was."

“All those drugs make it hard at the best of times.” Ollie said. “We can just hope he doesn't really remember it.”

"Fingers crossed." She said quietly.

There was a knock at the door, Finn appearing around the corner. He frowned at the pair in front of him, the lack of his brother, and the fact his mum was in one of Fao's hoodies.He gripped the doorframe to steady himself.

"What happened? Where is he?"

Ollie moved forwards. “Finn. It went well, but once he'd woken up a bit, there were… Complications. A bleed. He's back in theatre now.”

He shook his head, looking at Sheila. "You said he was fine."

"He was, he was out, he'd come round well enough for him, but…" She shrugged. "Like Ollie said, he had another bleed."

“I was with him when he came round, he was alright. But something must have happened, a bleeding vessel or a bad suture or something. I can find out later, if they don’t say. He’ll be okay, they’ll sort it. These things happen.”

"These things don't just happen." Finn snapped, jerking away from Sheila’s arm.

"Finn, that's enough. We're all stressed, it doesn't mean you get to be a dick. Sit down and wait."

He glared at her before he turned to Ollie. "Sorry."

“No, it’s alright. You’re right, Finn, it doesn’t ‘just happen’. It shouldn’t have happened. But it’s a surgical complication, surgical complications happen. He’s with a good team, all we have to do now is wait.”

He flopped into the chair by his mum. "He had a good team before."

“I know. It’s shit, isn’t it? Scared the shit out of me to see him like he was. He’ll be alright though. He’s been through worse.”

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

The snowy mountains of Dragonpierce

Crystal icicles can be nice to look at, but they are a pain to deal with. The mountains would be a good place to explore some more if it wasn't for the sheer cold. I applaud Connie and their friends for braving the cold and spending a good part of their vacation time here for team building activities.

Dragonpierce is one of those places where looks can be deceiving. Appearance wise it looks like any other snowy place. But when you step inside it's brutal, to say the least. Amber, Bennett, and Xiang are the real MVPs for keeping us from freezing to death with their pyro powers.

It's a shame, really. I want to explore more of the mountains - it really is a fascinating place that's full of resources we can use at the camp. The glacial gyroids were a nice find along with various plants and berries I've never seen before. But the risk is too much, especially for non-seasoned outdoors people like us. I doubt even an experienced adventurer would want to set foot in the mountains without at least three backup plans or something.

Connie and Pai are back again with their team for another retreat. Things have been going a lot better for them, especially now that they have more allies as well as no immediate threats looming ahead. In fact, it's been a little slow as things outside their control has forced them to put their main mission on hold for a bit. Though that doesn't make Connie any less busy, especially now that they're moving up ranks with the Adventurer's Guild so they're up for a promotion soon.

Turns out it's a good thing we planned this adventure because it's been a while since the original team last hung out all together. Luci and Amber have stepped back a bit to focus on the Knights so they've been eager to meet up with Connie again. Noelle, Seraphina, and Xiang have been stepping up the ranks as well, becoming part of Connie's main team for missions. Xingqiu and Bennett have been helping with the new recruits as well as building up their skills.

In terms of combat, Pai says they've improved by a lot. It also helps that they have more members as well as the fact that Noelle and Seraphina are powerful healers. They still have a long way to go in terms of being in the same league as other seasoned adventurers so that's something for them to keep working towards.

Not too long after Connie and the gang first visited the camp, Xingqiu's best friend Chongyun offered his assistance. He's a psychic exorcist with telekinesis and cryo powers. Connie had ran into him a couple times before, tagging along with him on investigations regarding reported sightings of evil spirits.

The next teammates to join were Meggie and Di, both who work at a bar/cafe. Meggie's a friend of Amber's from Stone Bridge, a neighboring town of Bonsai. Meggie is a bartender/astrologer who just moved to the city in hopes of a new start. She says she's not too keen about being a bartender but she has to pay rent somehow - she refuses to monetize astrology, something she takes seriously. Connie says whether you believe her or not, she does possess strong intuition when it comes to reading people.

I have to say, some of her observations about me were spot on. I barely know her and she managed to get a glimpse of me just by reading the stars. I don't know too much about astrology - and it's not something I want to overly look into - but I like to have an open mind. Even if astrology isn't real, I believe some people are highly intuitive - it's a trait that you can't hone in on, you either have it or don't.

Di is a waitress who's from Spring Valley, not too far from the city. She comes from a family of hunters and is a master archer with the power of stealth on her side. She's quite young so Connie has kinda unoffically adopted her. Apparently she's been going through some stuff at home, so that's why she started working at the bar despite being underage. It's not an ideal situation, particularly due to the fact that alcoholism is a thing in her family so obviously she tries to avoid falling into the same path. No wonder Connie wanted to take Di under their wing.

Then along comes Lan, a renowned captain/pirate who's traveled around the continent at least three times so far. She came to the rescue after a mishap with explosives temporarily put Connie out of commission. Apparently someone at the Adventurer's Guild thought it was a good idea to set off explosive barrels at a high cliff to extract some ores. Lan happened to be around the area when Connie literally landed in her arms.

Lan hardly spends time on land as she's always out on the open seas, so she's kinda a legend around these parts. She said she heard about Connie from Xiang as they often write letters to each other, so she was hoping to meet the honorary hero one day. And so fate decided to literally hand Connie to her, which is quite funny.

I mean, imagine falling off a high cliff and landing right in the arms of this badass pirate captain? If that happened to me, I wouldn't know what to say or do.

And finally, there's the newest team member, a conqueror of demons named Xiao. He's basically an immortal being who has been protecting the land for thousands of years, often lurking in the background. Pai never expected him to offer his assistance considering that he usually avoids interactions with others. Connie was surprised too, though they had been working together a lot since having to defend the city so that's probably why he decided to stick around.

Considering how he keeps his distance from mortals, it's also a surprise that he came along for this trip. He does admit that the only reason he reluctantly joined in was to take the opportunity to observe the team, which makes sense. Pai says he's been helping out a lot in terms of improving team combat skills so that's why he needs to know how well everyone fights and what needs to be worked on.

While the others are off doing various activities, Xiao stands in the sidelines, watching over everything. He seems like the type who takes their responsibilities seriously, the kind you shouldn't mess with at all unless you have a death wish or something.

As for this gyroid event, we're gonna use the gyroids to forge weapons designed by Luci, Xingqiu, and Connie. With the team growing and moving up in the ranks, they're in need of more advanced weapons. Noelle's claymore is pretty worn out while Di's bow isn't exactly meant for combat. Connie still has their trusty sword, but it'll be in need of upgrades later on while Xiang's looking forward to switching out her old polearm for something more sturdier. According to Connie and Luci's research, glacial gyroids can produce a range of high quality weapons. In short, it's something to take advantage of as forging weapons is expensive and hard to come by.

While the mountains of Dragonpierce are hard to navigate, Connie says it's nothing compared to the snowy mountains on the outskirts of Starcatcher and Bonsai Harbor. Over there, you can freeze to death if you're poorly prepared, so most adventurers avoid it like the plague. The sheer cold is strong enough to knock you out if you don't have adequate warmth, not to mention the fierce monsters that roam about. As a result, Connie rarely takes commissions to go there, but it's not something they can avoid entirely, not with their standing as of now.

I don't think I'd survive the mountains over there - Dragonpierce is already pushing my limits. I get that Connie and the others want to collect gyroids, but using the mountains for combat training seems a bit risky. Though it's kinda in the middle of nowhere so I guess it makes for a good training ground. Something about the extreme cold helps to put them in the right mindset? I mean, there's other places where they can train that doesn't involve them risk freezing to death but then again I know nothing about fighting and stuff.

I have to say, it's cool to watch them show off their combat skills and powers. Connie's come a long way as a leader - that's what I call growth! Pai continues to cheer on from the sidelines while offering commentary once in a while. I wonder if one day she'll join in on the field too but I feel like that's asking too much of her.

As much as Connie and Pai are thick as thieves, Pai can be a bit exasperating. Maybe that's why she gets along well with people like Connie and Jamie as they both are kinda jaded and have a low tolerance for bullshit, therefore they can keep her in rein. Also, it's funny whenever Connie roasts Pai because let's face it, she had it coming. Like Pai, we love you, but sometimes you need to step back and be quiet.

It's fun seeing them train and figure out their team dynamics. Like how Xingqiu and Chongyun work well together by coordinating their powers to freeze enemies. So naturally, Connie and Xiao want to utilize that. Xiang, Connie, and Lan also make a deadly combo with Xiang's pyro combined with Lan's electro causes an explosion. Throw in Connie's wind storm and you've got your enemies cornered in a pyro and electro tornado.

At the campsite, everyone's got their own thing going on. Amber's gliding around as usual, practicing her archery as well and bringing fruit for us in the process. Lan, Seraphina, and Xiang have been cooking up a storm in the kitchen and they really like spicy food. I mean, they literally eat hot chilis like it's nothing - it's kinda scary. I though Rika was crazy when it came to spice but I think these three are in another league.

It's a shame. really. Because if it weren't for the intense heat, I would be able to enjoy these dishes more. They taste good but the spice...why must I be weak?

Di and Noelle have taken an interest in finding materials like plants and rocks. They're really good at discovering new stuff like unusual seashells that contain iron that can be extracted or poisonous weeds that can be used to make potions. Di has her methods of handling dangerous plants safely by infusing her arrows with cryo and shooting at them to temporarily make them safe to handle by putting them into a bubble until they can be stored away.

Bennett and Xingqiu have been showing Chongyun around the camp, teaching him a bunch of stuff in the process. Apparently he doesn't go out much so things like camping is completely new to him, so he needed some time to get comfortable. He comes across as a serious person, kinda innocent and naive though, but dedicated nonetheless. I think with Xingqiu around and Connie keeping everyone in rein, he's been able to loosen up a bit.

Pai's been having fun - she's either off doing her own thing and getting into some sort of trouble or bothering someone. It seems like the others have joined in on roasting Pai when she finds herself in a mess that she caused. It's also nice seeing Connie loosen up too, probably since they've gotten comfortable in this unfamiliar world. Pai says they've been making friends and allies left and right - from ordinary citizens to people among high rankings, even some gods as well - it's pretty wild actually.

Of course, Connie remains humble and shrugs it off as it's nothing. They say the high ranking people are just like everyone else, but as for the gods, it's best to exercise caution and expect the unexpected. Also, Connie's at the point where if they hang around certain places for too long, then one of their new friends will whisk them away on some adventure or job. It's only happened a couple times so far but Connie has a feeling that as time goes on, it's gonna become a regular thing, much to Pai's frustration. Connie says they don't mind too much - at least for now.

Since the gang will be coming back in the future for another camp event, I wonder how much things will change by then. I'm looking forward to seeing more of Connie's friends as well as hear more stories about their adventures. I just hope no one insists on doing combat training in Dragonpierce again - unless they're gonna collect gyroids too.

Either way, I think I'll pass on the freezing mountains - I think that's one area I don't mind putting off exploring for a long while.

[batfam-chaos]

[timkon one shot] home

home

[rating: T | 2,381 words]

Tim returns from a mission exhausted and with a new stab wound. Luckily, Kon is there to take care of him.

read on ao3!

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Tim grits his teeth as he walks through the front door of the apartment that he shares with Kon. He drops his duffel bag down on the rug next to the sofa before allowing himself to finally collapse into the beautiful invention known as cushions.

Letting his head hit the back of the sofa, Tim sighs and contemplates the sharp, unwelcome pain in his ribs. In his experience, getting stabbed will cause things such as pain. Despite being well-acquainted with the sensation, it isn’t exactly pleasant.

Jason stitched the stab wound up for him in addition to giving him a handful of advil that Tim only took two of before stashing the rest in a random drawer in Jason’s apartment while his back was turned. He doesn’t like the way that painkillers make his head feel slow and warm, like it’s wrapped in a blanket of fog. After all, somebody needs to type up a report to inform the Green Lanterns that somebody in Gotham has access to illegal alien tech. Considering how Jason had been up for the past thirty-six hours for their stakeout while Tim has only been awake for the past twenty-four, the choice is obvious.

Bending over to retrieve his laptop from his duffel bag causes the wound in his side to flare with bright, searing pain like his insides are being barbecued on the surface of the sun. Tim gasps and just barely manages to yank his laptop out of the bag as his vision goes spotty.

He takes a moment to let the pain subside into angry throbbing before he opens his laptop, squinting at the sudden onslaught of bright light. Tim unlocks his laptop before pulling up an empty document so he can begin typing his report.

After entering the date and location of the stakeout, he frowns. Didn’t the arms smugglers refer to the alien tech by a particular name? Tim leans back into the couch and stares pensively up at the ceiling. What was that name? He closes his eyes as he plays back each step of busting the arms smuggling ring. There was the initial infiltration, the first time he and Jason were allowed into the warehouse, the excruciating stakeout, and they were finally able to raid the warehouse….

Sometime in the space between one thought and the next, Tim falls asleep.

“Babe,” a familiar voice whispers.

Without opening his eyes, Tim grumbles a response that means something along the lines of please let me continue to fucking sleep. Still, the voice doesn’t relent. “Babe,” it repeats. “Tim. C’mon, you’re going to be sore if you sleep on the couch.”

Tim opens his eyes and finds his boyfriend staring back at him. There’s a slight crease in his brow that means he’s concerned but not overly worried.

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” Kon says with a goofy grin. “I’m just gonna move you to the bed so you can actually sleep.”

Tim grunts in assent and Kon slips his arms around him, preparing to pick him up. However, as soon as Kon’s arm presses against the newly-stitched wound on Tim’s side, Tim gasps in pain and instinctively flinches away.

Kon immediately steps back, snatching his hands back. “Shit, I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”

Pressing a hand to his side, Tim waves Kon off. “A little. It’s fine.”

That little line in Kon’s brow deepens. “That doesn’t sound like a little.” He kneels in front of Tim, looking up at him worriedly. “Are you okay?”

“It’s not that bad, in the grand scheme of things,” Tim rasps. “I was only lightly stabbed.”

“Lightly stabbed.”

“Yeah, just a little. Didn’t even hit any organs or anything.”

Kon glances at Tim’s computer, which is sitting on the coffee table and still open. “And you were planing on working more?”

Tim shrugs. “I have to type up a report.”

“I’m going to suggest an a different idea. Are you ready?”

Raising one eyebrow, Tim gestures for Kon to proceed.

“See, I was talking to Clark the other day and he said the darndest thing,” Kon begins.

Tim can’t keep himself from snorting. “The ‘darndest thing’?”

“Yes,the darndest thing, hush. He said that humans do this absolutely wild thing, you’re never gonna believe it. It’s called sleeping in a bed,” Kon explains, raising both of his eyebrows. “I’m thinking, hey, why don’t you try it?”

“It’s funny that Clark was the one to say. I’m pretty sure that at least twenty percent of his sleep comes from napping in patches of sunlight on the floor,” Tim remarks. “Also, I do sleep in a bed.”

“When did you last sleep in a bed?” Kon counters.

Closing his eyes, Tim hums loudly. “Sorry, Tim is unavailable right now. Please leave a message after the beep. Beep.”

Laughing quietly, Kon places one warm hand on Tim’s knee and rubs circles into it with his thumb. “If I carry you over with my TTK, will you sleep in a bed?”

Tim cracks open one eye. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“...Will there be food in bed?”

“I can heat up some leftovers and bring them to you.”

At last, Tim nods and shuts both of his eyes. “Very well. Bring me to this ‘bed’ you speak of.”

Laughing, Kon stands up and easily scoops Tim up with his TTK. He’s wrapped up in a gentle pressure, but, noticeably, there’s nothing touching his injured side. Tim lets Kon lace their fingers together and lightly lead Tim by the hand as he floats him into their bedroom. The TTK gently deposits Tim on their bed and he opens his eyes as the mattress dips next to him.

“Hey,” Kon says, smiling down at him.

Tim feels himself smile. “Hi,” he replies, and then Kon leans down and kisses him.

“I missed you,” Kon murmurs against Tim’s mouth before planting another kiss on his lips. Leaning into the kiss, Tim tangles his fingers in Kon’s curls. It’s soft and warm and feels like coming home. When they finally pull away, Kon is breathless and smiling crookedly.

“I missed you too,” Tim tells him, and Kon’s smile widens.

“I’ll go reheat something for you, but I wanna check your side after you eat.”

Raising one eyebrow at Kon, Tim pokes him with his foot. “You just want to see me shirtless.”

“That too,” Kon replies, grinning.

Rolling his eyes, Tim nudges Kon with his foot again, earning a laugh as Kon stands up and heads into the kitchen. Tim closes his eyes again and drifts drowsily until Kon returns with food. Only then does Tim finally heave himself upright, wincing at the way that the motion pulls uncomfortably at his stitches.

Kon flops down in bed next to him, tossing his jacket onto the chair in the corner and scrolling through his phone as Tim eats. It looks like some kind of casserole-- one of Ma Kent’s recipes, no doubt. Tim is hungrier than he thought, so he eats quickly and lets Kon float the now-empty dish onto the nightstand.

Sitting up, Kon sets down his phone and turns to face Tim. “All right, let me take a look at your side?”

Tim nods and starts to pull off his sweater, but the motion tugs painfully at his side. He ends up with his head stuck in his sweater and his arms lost somewhere inside the sleeves. Turning to where he assumes Kon must be, Tim shoots him a despairing look through the fabric. “Help.”

“Sure thing, babe.” Giggling, Kon reaches over and carefully frees Tim’s head, then his arms, from his sweater. He tosses it onto the laundry pile in the corner before turning back to Tim. “There, I saved you from the deadly sweater.”

“You saved my life,” Tim deadpans. “However shall I repay you?”

Kon leans in and wiggles his eyebrows. “You can kiss me, you know.”

Smiling, Tim leans in and kisses Kon. “There you go. Happy?”

Kon kisses him once more before drawing away. “Very. All right, let me take a look at you.” He leans back and his eyes flash white as he activates his x-ray vision. “Well, it didn’t break any bones, so that’s good….”

Tim leans back on his hands and holds still as Kon peers at his side.

“Who did your stitches?”

“Jason. Considering the amount of sleep he’s gotten, they’re pretty good.”

“Must be the bat training. Lesson one, how to lurk ominously. Lesson two, how to stitch yourself up. Lesson three, how to punch things.”

“Actually, we didn’t learn how to do stitches on people until later. Alfred had us practice on oranges first.”

“And how did that go?”

Tim grins. “Poorly.”

Kon laughs quietly and pats Tim’s thigh. “It doesn’t look like any stitches tore. You’re right, it didn’t hit any major organs either. Congratulations, you’re still in one piece.”

Yawning, Tim slowly lays back down. “Great, that’s a dream come true.”

“You’re a dream come true, babe,” Kon replies, settling down on his side next to Tim.

Tim turns his head so he can smile at Kon. “That was a cheesy one.”

Grinning, Kon pecks him on the forehead. “I know. Hey, how sore is your side? Think it can stand some light cuddling?”

“Definitely, get over here.”

Kon wriggles closer and carefully throws his arm over Tim’s waist before pillowing his head on Tim’s shoulder. As always, it’s amazing to watch Kon curl his tall frame into a ball as he clings to Tim.

With a soft sigh, Kon nuzzles Tim’s neck. “I love you.”

Tim kisses the top of Kon’s head. “Love you too,” he murmurs.

They stay like that for a minute as Tim closes his eyes. Without opening them, he asks, “What’s the likelihood of you falling asleep on me within an hour?”

“Pretty high. I found you on the couch right after I came home from work, so I’m pretty tired and you’re a good pillow. I could conk out right here.”

Tim hums. “How was work?”

Even without looking, he can tell that Kon is making a face. “Somebody brought in this bike-- this really nasty piece of work, let me tell you-- and wanted me to fix it up. The thing is, the cost to repair it was almost as much as the bike was worth. I told the customer, hey, it’s not worth it, and he got all up in my face about it.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Tim murmurs, carding his fingers through Kon’s hair. “You were only trying to help.”

“Exactly! We ended up fixing it up anyways, but the customer was a jerk when he came to pick it up. It freakin’ sucked,” Kon grumbles into Tim’s chest. “I was just trying to be nice!”

Humming, Tim continues running his hands through Kon’s hair. Kon grows quiet and leans into his hand with a pleased sigh. For a few minutes, Tim pets his hair in silence until a familiar rumble fills the air. Smiling, Tim listens to the soothing sound of Kon’s purring and lets the sensation reverberate around his chest.

“Ah, so you’ve started the engine,” Tim remarks casually.

Without lifting his head, Kon grumbles something in reply but continues purring nonetheless.

“For the record, I still think that your purring should be measured in Konpower, not horsepower.”

Kon opens one eye and snuggles closer to Tim before closing it again. Laughing quietly, Tim kisses the top of his head before settling back onto the bed. He closes his eyes and absently pets Kon’s hair as he purrs.

“Hey, babe,” Kon murmurs when Tim is just beginning to drift. “You know that I’m proud of you, right?”

Tim opens his eyes. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“I mean, you’re out there doing all of the superhero stuff alongside us, but you can get injured,” Kon says softly, gazing up at Tim. After a moment, he glances away. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just on my mind because you’re hurt, and everything.”

Tim frowns. “And you’re proud of me for getting injured?”

Shaking his head, Kon’s grip around his waist momentarily tightens. “What I’m trying to say is that you put yourself in danger every time that you’re out there, and that takes guts. That’s all.”

“You can get hurt too,” he says softly. Reaching up to cup Kon’s face, Tim runs his thumb over his cheekbone and watches as Kon’s eyes flutter shut. They don’t often speak of those months when Kon was dead. It happened years ago, now, but Tim still remembers the pain of his loss like a phantom ache in his chest.

Kon inhales a shuddering breath and places his hand over Tim’s. His skin is warm like a miniature sun. “I know,” he whispers. For a moment, the room fills with silence, save for the sound of their quiet breathing. Finally, Kon says, “Still, the way that you run around throwing yourself into every fight you see… I dunno, babe. Seems pretty heroic to me.”

A smile spreads across Tim’s face. “When have you ever known me to back down from a challenge?”

Kon buries his laugh in Tim’s shoulder. “I know, I know. You’re a feral little creature with no fear of god.”

“Exactly.” Tim kisses the top of Kon’s head. “But really, I just want to do the right thing, and sometimes that involves getting into a fight or two. That’s all.”

In response, Kon pushes himself onto his elbows and kisses Tim. When he pulls away, he gently rests their foreheads together. They stay like that, just breathing each other’s air as Tim cups Kon’s face with one hand.

“I really am proud of you,” Kon says at last. “I hate seeing you get hurt, but the shit you do… damn.”

“Somebody has to do it,” Tim replies.

Kon kisses him again before settling down against his side. “You should get some sleep.”

Glancing down at his sweatpants, Tim shrugs. These will do as pajamas. Stifling a yawn, Tim wraps an arm around Kon and pulls him closer. It doesn’t take long for them to fall asleep, all wrapped up in each other. Between the sound of Kon’s soft breathing and his familiar warmth curled into Tim’s side, Tim can finally relax. He’s home.

[yixxes]

infidelity | p.p.

Warnings: some curse words, cheating

Word Count: 2462

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Emotional pain was long lasting. Heartbreaking.

“How could you do this to him!?”

“You’ll never understand! I can’t be with someone that I’m not in love with!”

Love grows where trust is laid, and love dies where trust is betrayed, or so Tigress Luv says.

“So you sneak around on him!?”

“That’s enough!”

“I don’t even wanna see your face right now, you’re disgusting!”

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Adam and Danielle. The beloved couple that all of your family adored. Not a single person disapproved of him ever since the day that your sister had introduced him. There was nothing even remotely unlikable about him. He got along great with everybody, he was always including everyone in the conversation and the activities. Adam was a family man and he fit in perfectly with yours.

Just last month, they celebrated their first year of marriage. Congratulations to the happy couple. Give me a break, you thought to yourself. 

Your parents and your oldest siblings fought hard to keep the situation under wraps, but your oldest brother ended up telling you about it on the down-low. Danielle had been sneaking around on Adam. Said she might have real feelings for the guy. Naturally, you were stunned by the news. You really looked up to both of them and their relationship as a whole. They seemed so perfect together. So deep in their own sweet love. There wasn’t a single person that thought that they wouldn’t be together forever - yourself included.

You were extremely disappointed in your sister to say the least, and the longer that you thought about it, the more the disappointment started turning into anger. She was always the pride and joy of the siblings. Carefully honest, Dean’s List smart. She was the kindest one, which was a quality that you’d long began to second guess. 

You shamed her good when she stopped by a couple of nights after you heard the news. She came to talk to your mother, probably about what was going on, but you intercepted her as soon as she walked in. You met her in the living room before she could make it to the kitchen where your mom was. She didn’t stand a chance. You laid into her without letting up even a little bit before your mother intervened and sent you up to your room. 

You were seething up there. You locked your door, drew the curtains and set your phone to airplane mode before picking the first playlist you tapped. Your headphones were in and you faceplanted on your bed with your music on full blast. You didn’t care to hear anything that they had to say. Adam didn’t deserve this. 

.

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“Hey!”

You stopped completely instead of letting him fall into step with you. Even in your own wrecked state, you didn’t fail to notice his. For a second or two, your heart stopped. After the night you just had, you really couldn’t bear having him upset, too.

“Hey, what’s...” Your mind raced ahead and you made quick work of momentarily pushing everything else aside to figure out what was wrong. You could physically feel your face paling as the realization hit you. “Oh no, our date, P, I’m... I’m really sorry about that, I-”

“I called you like twice this morning,” more like five. “I had to run around school all morning looking for you!” 

It was a fairly sized school. That couldn’t have been fun. “I left my phone at home, I was kind of in a rush.” The full story? You fell asleep crying and forgot to put your phone on the charger before you passed out. You got a late start to the day and ended up showing up to school with barely presentable hair, a hoodie and sweats, and sans your favorite piece of technology. It crossed your mind that you may have looked exactly how you felt, but you were far too miserable to be embarrassed.

“Why didn’t you open your window for me?” His mind was all over the place right now and he had so many questions. “I knocked, a-and then I called a couple of times, didn’t you get those?” 

Your expression was rather blank as you watched him make his way towards some kind of self implosion before having a look around you. The students walked around you, smiling and laughing alongside one another. Their worlds were still spinning just the same as it had been. Why did yours have to feel so still? Everything seemed to proceed in slow motion. If you tried to explain to Peter all that had happened in the past 24 hours, there would be a lot more to look at than your poorly assembled outfit. A sigh blew passed your lips and your shoulders fell.

“I’m sorry, I just... really can’t do this right now.” It was a loaded statement, and you could’ve kicked yourself for saying something so suggestive, but you really didn’t want to dish out all of your problems and start to blubber like a child in front of so many sets of eyes. You didn’t wanna hurt his feelings, but you needed to concentrate on hiding your own. To focus on not crying at least until you could get back to your room at the end of the day. You dragged your feet passed him and started towards class. 

Peter caught your wrist gently and quickly jogged back around so he was facing you again. “Wait!” He swallowed hard beneath your distant stare, releasing you of his hold because he was painfully unsure if it was welcome or not. “Can we just do a.. rain check? Tonight, we can get something to eat at that Italian place you’ve been wanting to try, it’ll be-”

“Okay.” you said quietly, unknowingly restoring a piece of his heart. He was apprehensively unaware of what was going on with you, but he was hoping with everything in him that he could use this date to turn things back to normal. 

“Okay?” He breathed carefully. His excitement was hard to hide and you almost smiled at the way that smile bloomed so easily on his face. Happiness always looked so good on him. You nodded and his smile grew. “Okay, I’ll see you at six.”

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You looked better than you did earlier, but it didn’t do a great deal for your mood. Really, you would’ve liked to be alone to let your feelings out a little more, but being inside of that house was proving to be most hazardous to your health. Your mom kept trying to talk to you about everything. Kept trying to get you to understand, but you wouldn’t hear it. You’d choose going out with Peter over listening to your mom speak nonsense any day. 

The car ride was quiet for the most part. It always felt weird sitting in the passenger seat of your own car, but you were glad that Peter offered to drive. You were aware of how far away your mind was when you handed him the keys. Driving wasn’t a good idea for you at the moment. 

It just didn’t make sense to you. How could someone put on a show that convincing? How could you smile at someone and return an ‘I love you’ knowing it wasn’t real? What compelled people to fake their feelings like that and what inside of their brain told them that that kind of prolonged dishonesty was acceptable? She slept in the same bed with him, she discussed having children with him, she kissed him and held his hand... wait a second...

You looked down at your empty hands that rested in your lap and an uncomfortable feeling started eating at you. Peter had driven your car with you in it several times. Every time he did, he always kept hold on your left hand for most of the car ride. You weren’t far away from the restaurant and he hadn’t touched you once. He called you beautiful upon arrival and kissed your cheek, but that was it. Why wasn’t he holding your hand?

By the time you two pulled up, your mind had kicked things into overdrive and your self induced panic was threatening to swallow you whole. He pulled the key out of the ignition and went to open the door before he realized that you hadn’t even taken your seat belt off yet. His hopeful smile started to fade and his eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest and you stared straight ahead at the side of the building. You were quiet as a mouse on the outside, but your insides were raging. You couldn’t slow your thoughts down despite how hard you were trying. Your throat felt painfully narrow and your eyes stung as they filled with tears. What set you apart from Adam? What made your relationship any different from theirs? Adam wasn’t lucky enough to get any kind of signs or tells from your sister, but what if Peter was trying to give them to you? Why didn’t he hold your hand the entire ride here, why did he bring you here tonight? To provide a nice meal before he ended things? To break things off in the classiest way that he knew how because he was a gentleman like that?

“Hey,” he turned in the driver’s seat and debated on whether or not he should reach out and touch you. Your hand, your knee, your shoulder.. he didn’t know how to approach you with the way that you’d been acting. He didn’t know how to make it better and that was killing him. “please, hey, tell me what’s-”

“Are you falling out of love with me?” You asked pitifully. 

His heart dropped and his face fell. He immediately got to thinking about all that he had said and done in the past couple of weeks. He thought hard but there wasn’t anything that could’ve prompted such a horrific question. The thought was laughable to him, laughable yet terrifying still. Were you asking because you were the one falling out of love?

“What?”

You sucked in a breath of air and turned your head, letting out a shaky breath. Tears were falling faster than you could help and you doubled over, bringing your hands up to your face. This was so untimely. So unfortunate. You were grieving for Adam and now you were gonna have to grieve for the both of you. 

“No, baby, no, I just, I-I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, I don’t know what to-”

“Why are we here, Peter!?” 

He looked ahead at the side of the building and then back at you. “What do you mean? I asked you to come with me so we’re here. We’re on a date, I thought you wanted this.”

“So we’re here because it’s what I want?” You picked your head up and eyed him with an annoyed scowl, refusing to meet his eyes directly, but scowling at him nonetheless. “What do you want Peter, what do you want from me?”

“What are you talking about?” His confusion was fueling his worry. The two of them together was enough to make his head spin. The conversation was clearly getting out of control and he needed to get a hold of it before you did something rash. “Y/n, where is all of this coming from?”

You were exasperated. “Adam and Danielle broke up,” 

It was horrible to hear, sure, he’d met them plenty of times and he knew how much you cared about their relationship, but what did that have to do with you two? Why were you mad at him for it? “Okay-”

“Dani cheated on him,” you continued with a sniffle. “she thinks she has feelings for some other guy, she... she said she doesn’t love him anymore.” Saying it out loud to Peter physically pained you. No matter what else crossed your mind throughout the past couple of days, one single thought remained front and center day in and day out: Adam didn’t deserve the anguish that he was going through. 

Peter was sure he knew where this was going, but he let you piece it together a little more without any interruption on his part. “They love each other so much and they just got married, there’s no way that they don’t belong together. I saw firsthand how happy they made each other. P,” for the first time that night, you looked him dead in the eyes. You let your guard down and allowed him to see everything. Every single bit of emotion that your face and your eyes allowed. “and if it’s that easy for them to fall apart, what does that mean for everyone else?” And even more terrifying, what you actually meant, “What does that mean for us?”

Peter was shaking his head before you even finished, rejecting the idea before it was fully presented. For the first time since you started acting differently, he wasn’t afraid to reach out and touch you. He secured a gentle yet firm hold on either sides of your face and made sure he had all of your attention. “It doesn’t mean anything for us. That’s their relationship, that’s not you and me. I understand how much their breakup is hurting you, and you can hurt as much as you need to, but don’t lose faith in me,” 

You nearly sobbed when you saw a tear roll down his cheek. His voice was starting to lose its steadiness and you were to blame. Your idiotic assumptions had brought him down to his knees. How could you ever even begin to think that you two had the same fate?

“Don’t give up on me, okay?” Your vision blurred and refocused as your tears filled and fell. “I told you I wasn’t gonna hurt you, and I meant that. I’m not gonna do anything to hurt you, and I’m as far away from falling out of love with you as I could possibly get.” He chased your tears away with his thumbs here and there and said, “ You’re everything to me. I love you. So much, okay?”

He let you cry for quite some time in the car, holding you, no questions asked and zero judgment. The situation wouldn’t get any better just because you sat and cried about it, but you felt better than you thought you thought you could after letting it all out. Your makeup was ruined, but you kept makeup wipes in your glove compartment, and you had an amazing boyfriend who was about to buy you pasta. Things weren’t the greatest with everything else, but they were still as kickass with Peter as they were before. And that was pretty great. 

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[nikstersss]

Not How To Pass The PLE

Before I go into the main gist of this post, let me give you a small background story. I was a mid-year post-graduate intern in Manila who started in January 2021. I lived alone in our condo unit near the hospital I went to. My usual routine was to get up early, prep, take a short walk to the trike station where I’d take a tricycle to the hospital, go on duty, insert a coffee or carioca break in between, walk all the way home at the end of the day, then maybe have a short study session with a couple friends after dinner or just chill at home. It was a pretty good setup. But then COVID happened. Suddenly, I was a pandemic e-ntern stuck at home listening to Zoom endorsements and lectures all day. At first I was hopeful that things would somehow go back to normal and maybe I wouldn’t be spending the rest of my internship in front of a screen, but we all know how that turned out. 

I finished the first half of my internship with the regular year PGIs online. While they were prepping for their boards, I was on my second half with the new batch of interns (that’s probably you, dear reader)—still online. Now you might think that it would have been wise of me to use all that “free” time to start early with my own boards prep and you would be correct. I thought the exact same thing. And trust me, I tried. And failed. Countless times. I won’t even try to justify it. Admittedly, I still think it was a wasted opportunity to read more and make notes, but then again, there’s no use crying over spilled milk. Besides, while it would have been nice and probably less stressful, I still survived without it. Which means that you can, too. So if you’re one of those who’s berating himself because you “didn’t make the most out of your time”, cut it out. You’ll be fine.

Towards the end of my internship, I enrolled in a review center. Despite the asynchronous setup, the review schedule was super tight and the sessions already started while I was still in the middle of final reports and exams. Needless to say, I was already behind on that before it even began. In fact, I didn’t even get to focus on reviewing itself until maybe around early February because of clearance, paperwork, and application stuff. So if you were to ask me how long I really reviewed for the March 2021 boards, I’d say just a little over a month. Kasalanan ko. Wag po tularan. Stressful siya. Nakakaloka. 

And even when I did get to really buckle down and do some intense reading, I didn’t follow the program anymore. I tried to catch up at first, but I was already way behind. But I am grateful for all the summarized material because that meant I didn’t have to pore over the mother books anymore. What I will say, though, is that because I didn’t exactly follow the recommended study hours etcetera, I was able to enjoy the whole process because I did it at my own pace. Sure, there was still that dread that maybe I wasn’t on the same level as the others, but I learned to tune those thoughts out eventually. And that’s where goal-setting and discipline comes in, I guess. 

The most common question I’ve been getting is what was my day like during the PLE review season. Honestly, I’d like to say I had a routine I followed, but that’s only half-true. While I did have a structure for my day, I rarely followed it exactly. Nevertheless, allow me to share what it would have been like if I did: 

Ideally, I’d wake up at 5:00 A.M. then do my morning routine which included prayer and meditation, making my bed, taking a shower, and brewing coffee. And because I’m the type of person who enjoys these mundane activities and slow mornings, I also took this opportunity to get myself in the zone before all the studying that’s to come. I’d plan out my study goals and outline (something you can do the night before, actually) then maybe have breakfast while watching some videos (could be review-related, or those self-motivational vids, or maybe even Korean street food). I’d do whatever I wanted to wake my brain up without stressing it out too much until around 6:30 A.M. By this time, I’d work on backlogs for about an hour and study until about 10 or 11 A.M.—it depends how in the zone I am. I’d prep and cook lunch and then eat while watching Netflix maybe or even play a bit of Fortnite or Paladins until about 1:00 P.M. At this point, I’m pretty certain to be quite sleepy so it’s either I make coffee or tea, or maybe even go out to study at a coffee shop, and then it’s study all the way until 7 P.M. I then take a break to get some exercise, take a shower, have a light dinner, and if I feel like I deserve it, nap for a little bit. At around 8:30, my family usually calls and then we pray the rosary together. After this, I study again, but more of a recall and review session for the day’s progress until about 11:30. I then have my night self-care routine and then go to sleep around midnight. 

The main takeaway from the previous paragraph? “Ideally.”

During the first few days of setting up my schedule or routine, following it was already challenging, but still doable. But then the backlogs started piling up and no matter how much I tried to streamline the whole study process, I just couldn’t keep up. I did what I could to follow study habits and schedules, but the setup was falling apart. And you know what? That was okay. 

Normally, my type A self would have been so frustrated already with how poorly I was handling my review season. Admittedly, there were a few meltdowns and anxiety attacks as the exam drew nearer, but for the most part, I just let things happen as they did. I still adjusted, sure, but I wasn’t hard on myself for always having to. I kept changing goals when I didn’t meet them (which was probably 80% of the time). There were even instances where I’d finish a handout and then I’d say that okay, I’ll watch an episode for a reward, but that episode became the entire season. While I considered myself to be the most chill reviewee, I also thought I was the worst because I refused to give up any of my wants for my needs. I resisted, of course, but then they’d bug me the entire time I was studying so instead of staying productive, I’d just annoy the hell out of myself. I was probably just lazy and stubborn. LOL. Long story, short, it was a constant battle. 

There were times when I felt confident enough to power through the whole thing. I enjoyed the whole process of studying, actually. Making notes and my own ways of memorizing things was fun. I made use of different study strategies, self-checks, and motivational boosters (more on these on a different post). Aside from these, having review-mates who were just a chat away made things bearable. Breakdown session muna tas aral na ulit. And how could I forget all my sweet friends who would send over coffee ayuda every now and then? To me, passing the boards, while mainly should be for oneself and one’s self-actualization, is also about not letting down these people who have been with you throughout your journey. 

But it wasn’t always a hyped-90s-movie-transformation-montage kind of environment. Other times, I was just worn out and dejected by my lack of progress. In the already meager time I had to study, I still had plenty of off-days. Concepts just wouldn’t stick and it was disappointing how I’d already forgotten what I just read a couple days ago. It got really tiring even if I was staying indoors all the time. I missed the comfort of coffee shops and the company of study buddies. I missed my family. I wanted to hug our dog. There were days when I couldn’t even bring myself to make coffee and open my notes. I even reached a point where I was sure that I wouldn’t finish reading all the material. (I kid you not, I have handouts I never got to open.) 

Yet here I am. Here I am writing about how I survived all that and got those two letters attached to my name. I am not a good example, obviously. There are hundreds better than me and you probably should be taking advice from them instead. I’m simply writing this to tell you that you don’t have to worry. This is all just to ease your anxieties about the PLE. I’m not saying it’s an easy feat that you can just achieve just like that. While I seemed rather complacent, I still put in the work, after all. Admittedly, I know I could have done more, but again, I’m not going to dwell on that anymore. It’s done. 

My goal in writing this is to let you know, my dear future doctor, that you’re going to be just fine. Here’s someone who understands the huge disconnect that stemmed from being a pandemic e-ntern. Here’s someone who’s always been doubtful and full of anxieties about the PLE even before she filed her application at the PRC. Here’s someone who constantly prayed that the PLE be moved even for just a month (or kahit two weeks lang masaya na ako nun) up to the week before the exam along with a rising number of cases. Here’s someone who barely has the capability to maintain focus for more than an hour. Here’s someone whose reading pace was literally at 10 minutes per page (yes, I actually timed it and IDK if that’s slow or really slow). Here’s someone who still allowed herself to study at coffee shops and even have samgyup (with proper health protocols, of course) even if she knew she was drowning in backlogs. 

My point is that if I managed to pass despite all that, you can, too. My close friends know that I developed a rather funny mentality to ease the jitters as the boards drew nearer. I knew and claimed it for myself that I would already pass. I viewed the whole PLE as just a “formality”--a means for His plans of me becoming a doctor to manifest in this realm. I believed it so much to the point that I thought that no matter what bloopers and slip-ups I have during the test, I’d still see my name on the list of board passers. I’m not saying you should totally ease up and just have a come-what-may attitude. Again, I’m not the model student you should be following here. What I’m saying is to have faith in yourself, your capabilities, and in God. So chin up, Doc. Just a little more ‘til you get to legally practice with that MD at the end of your name.

[shunsatan]

Headcanons for if Kaidou’s sister got a crush on Saiki

Fic time here we go babeyy. Starring the lovely Kaidou Sora.

It was a rough and cold day. One with winds that whipped you back and forth with no mercy. It was the kind of day that would gain your trust by having the sun tickle your skin, and then destroy the fragile warmth with a booming and freezing breeze. Sora wished she had stayed inside instead of going to the store to buy eggs for her mother. She cursed under her breath as another dreaded wind came and tangled her hair.

"Shun...? Shun!" She spotted her older brother loitering outside of another grocery store.

[[MORE]]

"...Sora?" He jumped, turning to face the smaller female "Oh, hey. Heading home?" She nodded.

"Well, I have Saiki with me. I can drive you home though" he turns to the pink haired boy who was still eyeing a rack of coffee jelly from outside of the store window.

"Drive? You can't drive. This isn't America, dumbass. You're not old enough to get a license and you don't even have any type of vehicle with.... you..." she slowed her words upon seeing him walk up and start a motorcycle with some unappealing (not to mention, chuuni) decorations; only shun would decorate something to look that stupid.

"I forgot you had one.." she awed. Though, the last thing she needed was more wind slapping her face "But no thanks. I'll walk. You don't even have an extra helmet."

Saiki turned to the bike he had been pure pressured into bringing. 'Yare yare' he mumbled as he sat down too fast, causing his head to ache. This place was crowded, so it made sense that his head would hurt naturally- or, that's what he thought until he saw Shun's sister getting kidnapped. Good grief. No way to sit still after seeing that.

'Hey' saiki called out to her, placing a helmet on her head. 'You can ride on the back of mine. It's going to be dark soon and then it'll get even colder.' He said, walking back to his motorcycle.

"Alright, fine" she got onto the seat behind him. Shun smiled at Saiki before starting his bike down the road, and the psychic then followed.

The wind came strong and angry. Sharp and bitter. It threatened to kick her off of the bike and caused her to have to wrap her arms tighter around the boy infront of her. He didn't care much for the wind. Nothing special, no reason for his heart to race because with his powers, his instincts don't sense danger. It wasn't much painfully cold, either. With his pyrotechnics it wasn't a problem at all.

Maybe I should tell him to stop... this is too cold Sora thought to herself

Saiki sighed as he used his fire power very carefully to bring heat to her body as well. He can't have Shun coming to school crying about his sister everyday. Especially when it's so easy to avoid.

This feeling...

Oh no.

it's gotten so warm... next to Saiki.. no, it must be that I... I have a crush..?

Good grief... this is uncomfortable the psychic thought

.....

And in days to come, the Jet Black Wing's sister would come to bother him about his friends. After that, her crush began to develop in a similar way to Chiyo. She would watch him with eyes that saw a round eyed prince. She would admire how smart and well mannered he is, and she would act especially polite when he made his presence infront of her.

Saiki Kusuo, was also thinking about her often. However; not in the way you might be thinking. He was forming strategies on how to avoid her. All of which were miserably failing. With her mother and his mother on her side, she couldn't fail. Discovering his family power structure, she would have Shun call Kurumi (his mother) and invite him over.

And with her own mother bothering Shun to hang out with his two "genius" friends everytime his grades would slip. Of course, Nendou rarely came because he was "always busy" (in reality, Shun didn't want Nendou and his mother interacting anymore in fear of her finding out that he's an idiot)

So, of course, this all worked out best for Sora.

.....

The group of four walked home like usual. Kuboyasu, Nendou, Saiki and Kaidou. They were discussing which character in Shounen Jump is the weakest while Saiki was praying for Nendou to ask them to ramen so that he didn't have to go to Kaidou's house again. Sora had been coming up with gifts for her crush so that he would take notice and start a conversation with her. Of course, she had almost no idea what would peak the boy's interest.

"Hey, Saiki. I thought maybe it would be a good time to ask you" Kuboyasu, the former delinquent spoke up. "Heard there's somethin' weird behind that 100 yen store. Wanna come check it out?" He offered.

Saiki almost shook his head and provided an excuse on instinct before remembering his main goal (to bLow up and act I like dont know nobody aghaghaghaa.) So he simply nodded.

"I wish I could come see!" Kaidou beamed before looking back down to the ground dramatically "yes... I wish I still had time to question those weird things around me... to leisure in activities like such. Though, I have a sacred duty at hand..." he clenched his bandaged fist

"Gotta take a shit? Me too" Nendou chimed in.

"NO, IDIOT! I have cram sch-- I um.. I m..mean I have to meet with the phantom force! Th-that I'm helping train to work as soldiers against dark reunion!!" He stumbled all over his sentence before finally turning his body to strut off over to the direction of his house.

"Shun. I need you to help me with.. homework" his sister quickly requested and dragged him into her room, pushing him on the floor infront of the small table that sat in the middle of the room, just like his.

"What can you tell me about your friends? Start with Saiki kun" she reached for a notepad and a pen.

"Shouldn't you be referring to him as senpai or something because he's a second year?" He mentioned before being cut with her glare. "R..Right! Okay, sorry... he likes sweets an-"

"Sweets and what!? Why'd you stop??" Sora pressed

"Why do you need to know about my friends? Is this a homework assignment..?" He questioned her

"Yeah sure." She rushed "he likes sweets and what?"

"Ohh! I think I remember having this assignment in middle school, too! You're supposed to write about your closest friends and their interests right~?" He thought back to his middle school year and looked at her with warm eyes. Empathy began filling his soft face, adjusting his features on her. "Sora, I couldn't make any friends in middle school either, so...!" He began "I've noticed you've been really nice to Saiki.. so if you want to be friends with my friends-!"

"I can make friends. I'm not some lonely loser like you who needs a hero complex to interact with people his age." She interrupted, sending an imaginary arrow through the highschooler's chest.

"Guh-- well if you don't want my help then in leaving!!" He stood up and caught notice of a small hand stopping him

"Wait! I'm sorry.." She got onto her feet and bowed "I'm just... embarrassed about not having friends." She lied, not wanting her brother to know she had the hots for his bestfriend.

Her phone chimed, once, and then again. It was three of her friends trying to reach her to hang out at the movies. Then she got a phone call, interrupted by another phone call.

"You should answer those" shun said

She hesitantly picked up the phone and answered the call.

"Put it on speaker" her brother ordered.

"...okay.."

<"heyyyy! Sora where have you been? Me and everyone else wanted to go to the movies with you. You're always knee-deep in studying so we wanted to help you relax a bit for once. You've been out of school for like, three days just shadowing and checking out Pk academy. It's still a while before we get into high school, grandma~! Anyway, the 7 of us wanted to show we love you by taking you to see that movie you mentioned wanting to see. So get ready, we want to be there by 7:30"> the girl on the phone ranted on before Sora could speak up against it, and hung up.

".....Shun-"

"SEVEN!?" he exclaimed as Sora rushed into another apology. This must be the first time he's ever made HER scared of HIM.

"Don't apologize Sora!! That's amazing, I'm so happy you have great friends... ahyuuu...." he teared up

"Oh... thanks, I guess"

"But one thing" he said and stopped her from leaving the room

"Huh?"

"Why did you need to know about my friends for that project?" He tilted his head

She looked over to the door knob as if she was begging it for help as her face was overpowered by a dark red hue. "W....we-well-- Sh...shut up! Get out! I need to get dressed!!" She pushed him out.

"Ow!! Ouch~! I'll leave!!" He practically screeched as he was rushed out. "But I'll stand outside of the door until you admit!"

A few minutes later, she yanked open the door and sprinted down the hallway. She knew her small brother wouldn't be able to catch her with how weak and slow he is.

But her little brother could.

She tripped and landed on her face after having her legs caught and wrapped in bandages by Toki Kaidou.

"Now tell me why!" Shun stood proudly over her despite not having done anything.

Toki went back to his room as Sora nearly freed her feat from the poorly tied bandages, that is before Shun, someone who actually knew how to tie a knot, fixed them.

"Fine!! Just let me go!" She yelled at him "I... is there any reason for it? I think he's cool. You can always have new friends. You're just stupid and think that 7 is the max" her face was once again drenched in a dark pink color.

"Oh my god." He said

"What!?"

"You like him!!!" His eyes widened as he stood up frantically. "You have a crush on Saiki!!"

"Yeah, so what about it!?" Sora snapped at him

Shun gasped "Sora!! You're only in middle school-"

"Yet I'm more put together than you are" she said defensively

"But that's still kind of wrong.. we're about to be third years and you're not even in highschool yet..."

"I will be by the time you're third years though!!" She shouted, then slumped down.

"Yes- bu-" he began, getting cut off

"I know. I just... I really like him and I've never liked a guy before. I know it's stupid." She sighed, defeated

"No no, Sora I'm sorry... You can't control who you like, right? I was being mean-" he began

"It's fine, you're right about it being weird. Just untie me so I can go to my room"

"What about the movies with your friends?"

"...whatever"

....

'Yare yare,' Saiki sighed, taking another bite from one of the homemade cookies Sora had anonymously sent him before placing it down and uncrossing his eyes. (he had checked with his powers and knows the cookies were from her)

'I guess it can't be helped' he sighed once more before sending out a telepathic signal

"Sora!" She sang as she knocked on the large door infront of her.

"Hello?" Shun answered and opened the door wider for the girl to come in "you're one od her friends!" He chirped "She said she isn't feeling well enough for the movies; I think you should try cheering her up."

"Oh, okay... um, where would her room be?" Upon entering the house, the girl suddenly grew nervous. For some reason.

"Here, I'll show you" Shun lead her to Sora's door and sprinted away to hide before the girl could knock on it.

"What do you want." Sora snapped after hearing the door knock

"Eek! Sorry, I just.. uhm...wa it's Yui! your b..brother let me in" she stuttered unlike how she spoke on the phone

The door opened and inside was a girl with messy hair and red eyes. An embrace came soon after.

I thought you might've needed a hug... Yui intended to say, but instead voiced out:

"You... h.,,hug. Yeah. Needed yes...mn"

Sora laughed, at first came a weak chuckle, then as the hug parted it became a strong belly laugh (upon seeing Yui's flustered face)

.....

"Shun!" Sora called, making the timid boy jump and start shaking from fear

"Y-yes?" He was sweating bullets

"I'm going to the movies with my girlfriend." She took Yui's clammy hand and headed towards the door.

Shun blinked. "Wh--"

[guardians-of-exo]

Agent 061 - Park Chanyeol

These nine young men are a collection of agents working for the government. They are specialized in infiltration and gathering valuable information but they will do the dirty work when needed. Whatever you might need, they can get it for you. This is one of their stories. 

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Will contain violence and killing.

Series masterlist

Chanyeol’s legs were starting to feel heavy as he sprinted down a poorly lit hallway, two men the size of gorillas right behind him. He could taste metal as he pushed himself forward, but the more he ran, the more it seemed like he would have to fall back on plan B. There was no way he could get away from them and still complete his mission.

His thoughts were confirmed as he came to a screeching halt, staring at the dead-end wall that closed him in for an easy beating. He cursed at himself for getting discovered in the first place then sighed as he turned around and waited for the inevitable. His body had just healed from his last mission so he had hoped he could avoid getting too hurt this time.

The two men slowed down when seeing Chanyeol had been caught and their faces twisted in triumphant grins. Despite Chanyeol not being small by any means, the two men towered over him and he actually felt a little worried. This was going to hurt. A lot.  

Cracking his knuckles, Chanyeol silently apologized to his body.

They wasted no time throwing themselves at the lone agent and Chanyeol felt like he had been hit by a truck. If he had truly tried to fight them off he probably could have though. They definitely had the power, but they lacked in any technique.

His insides felt like it had been completely rearranged and his ears were ringing from taking one too many hits when Chanyeol finally let himself sag to the floor in defeat. He spat out the blood pooling in his mouth and grunted in pain. There was definitely a bruised rib somewhere. Maybe even cracked. They would pay for this one way or another.

He let them drag him back down the hall. At the moment he couldn’t fight even if he wanted to. They had really done a number on him. He was just lucky they needed him for information or he would not be conscious right now. Waking up after having been knocked out from a punch to the face had never been his favorite activity. This was nothing.

They searched him thoroughly, taking away his holstered gun as well as a knife he had strapped to his calf; something he had learned from Minseok. Too bad he hadn’t gotten to use it. The two men would look a lot better with a couple of slashes in Chanyeol’s opinion. He didn’t really care though, he had something else up his sleeve

There was a slow whistle in his ear, followed by Jongdae’s voice, “Man, that looked like it hurt.”

Chanyeol just grunted, refraining from rolling his eyes as it would hurt too much. It felt like the two gorillas were still jumping on his head. It did hurt like hell, but at least now their guard was down. They wouldn’t expect him to fight back again.

After having been dragged along the floor for what felt like hours, the two men finally stopped and Chanyeol could hear a door being opened before he was forcefully shoved into a room. He landed on the floor with a dull thud and a groan. Definitely a cracked rib. A girl screamed somewhere to his right and Chanyeol would have laughed if it hadn’t set his lungs on fire. They really put them in the same room? How amateur of them.

Waiting until the two men’s footsteps had faded away, Chanyeol slowly sat up, his whole body protesting loudly. “Fuck that hurt,” he muttered, spitting out some more blood. His lower lip had been split and was throbbing painfully. He hated the taste of blood.

He glanced at the other person in the room. It was indeed the President’s daughter. She was pressing herself against the wall furthest away from Chanyeol, eyes wide and terrified. She thankfully didn’t look hurt anywhere except a scrape on her knee.

She had been kidnapped the night before with a demand of a couple of million dollars of ransom. While her father had been prepared to pay, he had called the Bureau for assistance. And so they had sent Chanyeol on a mission to get the daughter out safely. Easier said than done apparently.  

  “Rose?” he asked quietly and she nodded shakily, eyeing him with clear mistrust. “It’s okay. Your father sent me to get you. But I need you to trust me okay? Stay quiet and do what I say, no matter what. I’ll get you out of here, I promise.”

  “M-my dad?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes. “He really came for me?”

Not really knowing how to handle a crying girl, Chanyeol just nodded awkwardly before quickly turning his attention to his watch.

  “How smooth,” Jongdae teased and Chanyeol huffed. It was a running gag that Chanyeol had no idea how to talk to girls, which is why all the other agents loved how it was always Chanyeol who got sent on rescue missions.

Flipping open the cover of his watch, Chanyeol pressed a few tiny buttons and suddenly the voices of the two guards filled the room. While fighting them off, Chanyeol had slipped a small bug inside one of their pockets hoping they would reveal some useful information.

  “What do you know, it actually works,” Jongdae said and Chanyeol could hear him clapping unenthusiastically.

  “Of course it does, I made it,” Chanyeol grumbled. It was only a prototype and he had more plans for it in the future, but he was still proud of it.  

All the guards were talking about though, was whatever plans they had after work. Nothing useful at all. Chanyeol sighed and scooted back so he could lean against the wall. His whole body was aching and he dreaded having to take another beating. They would no doubt come back for him at some point, wanting information. And when he didn’t want to give them any, his body would have to pay for it.

Rose was still pressed against the corner of the room, but at least she wasn’t crying anymore. She was just staring blankly at the wall, face ashen.

They listened to the two guards small talk while waiting for something to happen. Hours ticked by on Chanyeol’s watch. Eventually though, static noise interrupted the muted conversation and Chanyeol could faintly hear someone ordering the two guards to ‘bring the infiltrator’. They would reach them in a couple of minutes.

  “They’ll come and take me away soon,” Chanyeol said quietly, glancing over at Rose who now looked close to tears again. “Stay put, I’ll be back for you and then you need to be ready to run, okay?”    

Lower lip trembling, Rose sniffled and nodded. Chanyeol could already tell he would probably have to carry her most of the way out. She would be too scared to run by herself.  

As expected the two goons arrived not long after, slamming the door open in a weak attempt to intimidate the hostages. Rose let out a startled squeak but Chanyeol didn’t even flinch. Without fighting back, he let them drag him down the hallways once again.

The room they took him to was eerily lit by a single lamp in the corner and a lone chair was placed in the middle. Half-hidden in the shadows stood a handful of men, one of which Chanyeol recognized from the Bureau’s most wanted wall. Cain. They had already known him to be the kidnapper but Chanyeol was only there to get the girl. Many other agencies were already working on putting Cain behind bars, and the Bureau interfering would only blow up the already fragile truce between the agencies. Chanyeol didn’t care much about jurisdictions and who had the rights to what, but orders were orders. He was to make no attempts at arrests.

He really did want to wipe that stupid cocky smirk off of Cain’s face though, as the criminal watched Chanyeol get thrown into the chair and bound by his hands and feet. They were stupid enough to use duct tape, Cain had no rights to smirk like that. How he ever made it to the most wanted wall by using amateur tricks like that was a mystery.

Cain snapped his fingers and the mountain of a man next to him stalked over and punched Chanyeol straight in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. He laughed as the agent wheezed, hunching over from the pain of it. God Chanyeol hated his job sometimes. Another punch had his ribs rattling in his chest.

Another snap of fingers and the man stepped back, leaving Chanyeol heaving for breath.

  “So,” Cain said, looking far too smug. “Let’s start with something easy shall we? Who are you?”

  “Nobody,” Chanyeol said, spitting out blood.

  “Who are you working for?” Cain continued, apparently not really caring about the agent’s identity. “How did they find me?”

  “I don’t know. They found me, sent me here and they’re hopefully gonna pay me when I get back,” Chanyeol answered dryly. “I don’t really ask questions as long as they pay me enough.”

Cain frowned at that. “Now boy, don’t lie to me. I don’t want to hurt you more than necessary.” Chanyeol nearly laughed at that. The criminal was known to be someone who liked seeing people bleed.

When Chanyeol didn’t say anything, Cain snapped his fingers again, earning the agent a ringing strike to the side of his head. He groaned in pain, head lolling forward.

  “Tell me boy, who sent you?” Cain tried again; voice now void of any pretend kindness. He was done playing games.

  “Look, I don’t know anything. They never tell me more than what I need to know. I was told to come here and get the girl. Nothing more, nothing less,” Chanyeol said, voice slightly slurred from the punch to his head. He needed to buy a little more time. “I’m just in it for the money, though I kinda regret taking on this job. They better pay me well after this.”

He looked up at Cain, vision a little blurry. His right eye felt like it was swelling up. “I don’t even know who you are.”  

There was a moment of silence as Cain assessed him. When he spoke he sounded almost amused. “You’re awfully confident for someone who’s not leaving this room alive,” he said. “But I like your spirit, boy. I’m tempted to ask you to name your price. I could use someone like you.”

  “Sorry,” Chanyeol smiled, feeling blood trickle down his chin. His lip had started bleeding again. “But I don’t think you can afford it.”

At that Cain laughed out loud, clapping his hands loudly. “I do like your spirit, boy. Shame I’ll have to kill you.” Cain’s smile vanished like it had never been there in the first place. “You won’t tell me who you work for, but that doesn’t really matter. Sending you back dead will be a message either way. You should have chosen another job.”

Damn right he should have, Chanyeol thought. He wasn’t doing another one for a long while after this; he didn’t care what the Bureau said. They could go fuck themselves.

  “That sounds great and all, but I’m afraid I have other plans,” Chanyeol said, fists clenching behind his back. “I have every intention to finish the job so I can get paid.”

Before Cain could say anything, Chanyeol ripped his hands up, breaking the tape apart. He had been working on the tape with a small blade hidden in his watch strap. Pulling out a pen from his inner pocket, he shoved it into the chest of the nearest guard, pressing the tip of it. The guard convulsed and sunk to the floor with a thud. The pen held enough watts to take down a horse, but it was a one-time strike.

In the same breath Chanyeol spun around and punched another in the face only to rear back, cradling his hand to his chest. “Goddamn, are you made of concrete or something?” he whined, his hand throbbing.

The guard, completely unbothered by Chanyeol’s punch, went straight for the agent, arm drawn back to probably try and knock Chanyeol out for good. If he hit, he would most likely succeed as well.

Chanyeol managed to dodge at the last second, crouching down. In a quick movement he swung out his leg and swiped the guard off his feet, his head hitting the concrete floor with a sickening crunch that had Chanyeol cringing.

As he stood back up, he noticed that Cain had retreated to the very back of the room, another two guards stepping out to protect their boss. The bigger of the two roared and launched himself at Chanyeol who didn’t manage to get out of the way in time and suffered another blow to his gut. Now he was starting to get pissed off.

He grabbed onto the guard as he went in for another strike and twisted his arm up behind his back. The guard shouted in pain as Chanyeol bent his arm back and the agent had every intention of breaking it until he heard the sound of a gun cocking. Cain was aiming straight at him, his face twisted in a snarl.

Sighing, Chanyeol let go of the guard and stepped back, slowly raising his hands. “Do over?” he asked.

Behind him the guard was still twitching on the floor, while a pool of blood was slowly forming around the head of the second guard he’d sent to the floor. Cain eyed the two dead mean, right eye twitching.

The second Cain’s eyes left Chanyeol, the agent took the opportunity to test out the last of his gadgets. Three little balls dropped to the floor at Chanyeol’s feet and he sent Cain a last bloodstained grin before the ball burst with a soft pop, covering the room in a thick veil of smoke within a second.

The door had been right behind Chanyeol and he made it out just in time to avoid the bullets aimed at him.

His body was screaming at him as Chanyeol sprinted back down the hall. He had counted the turns as they had dragged him to see Cain so he knew exactly where to go. Loud yelling sounded behind him, thundering footsteps making his body push itself to the limit.

The sounds of shattering glass and gunshots had Chanyeol throwing himself against the wall in an attempt to dodge the onslaught, only for him to realize that the noise was coming from outside. Why were they shooting outside? He couldn’t dwell on the thoughts for long though as he reached the holding cell where Rose was. He would deal with that problem when he came to it. Right now, they needed to make it out of the building first.

Rose looked up startled as he kicked open the door with ease. Knowing that Cain’s men were right behind him, Chanyeol spared no time to explain and instead hoisted Rose up on his shoulder and kept running. The girl didn’t weight much but with his ribs threatening to collapse in his chest, he found it hard to keep going.

  “Jongdae, you still there?” he asked, panting. “Something’s happening outside, I may need another way out.”

  “Why, I thought you were doing just fine on your own,” Jongdae said teasingly but then cleared his throat, voice now serious. “You can keep heading out – it’s us they’re aiming at. We’re here to get you.”

  “Why?” Chanyeol asked. It was supposed to have been a solo mission so that it could not be traced back to the Bureau.

  “The FBI decided to do their raid today. Wouldn’t listen when we said we had a man on the inside. So we sent the team to get you out safely,” Jongdae explained. “Now get out here before they shoot you on accident.”

  “They better fucking not,” Chanyeol grumbled, hoisting Rose up higher in a last attempt to make it out. He had been hurt more than enough thank you very much.

When he finally did make it out and was able to put Rose down, he nearly cried with relief and he had to fight to keep standing. Rose sent him a careful smile before she was whisked away some agents from the FBI.

Chanyeol watched as FBI agents, wearing the large flashy letters on their vests, milled about the area, leading away Cain’s men in handcuffs. He did all the work and the fucking FBI would take all the credit.

  “She’s pretty,” a voice spoke up behind him and Chanyeol rolled his eyes.

  “Fuck off, Baekhyun,” he snapped back though there was no bite to his voice. He was too tired.

Baekhyun laughed as he walked up to face Chanyeol but his grin faded a little when coming face to face with him. “You look like shit, my friend,” he said though he couldn’t hide the worry in his voice. “Go see the doctor this time, please.”

  “I will. After I’ve gone home and had a nap. I’m fucking tired. And I need a shower.” Chanyeol grimaced as he looked down at his blood-stained clothes.

  “Yeah about that, I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Baekhyun said. “You’re gonna need a lift.”

A ball of ice dropped in Chanyeol’s stomach. “What?” he gasped. No.

Looking like he was doing his best not to burst out laughing, Baekhyun pointed at something behind Chanyeol. It took a while for Chanyeol to see what he was gesturing to but when he did, he sunk to his knees. His baby. His most prized possession, shredded to pieces by bullet holes. He had spent years saving up for that car.  

  “Should have parked it somewhere else,” Baekhyun sniggered, patting Chanyeol’s head as if he was a dog.                    

[tvandenneagram]

You’re the Worst: Edgar Quintero - Type 9w1

Edgar is kind, calm and optimistic. He struggles with his PTSD from when he was in the war and can come across as overly anxious as a result.

At his best, Edgar is a kind and loyal friend. He begins to become more driven and starts to try and make a life for himself outside of the group. Edgar grows more confident and begins to have more agency. He begins to cope better with his PTSD after hitting rock bottom as he starts to take a more active role in his recovery. 

At his worst, Edgar overcompensates for others. He stops taking his various medications because he thinks he needs to for the sake of his relationship with Dorothy. When Edgar is off his meds, his PTSD symptoms are heightened and we see that he becomes very paranoid, suspicious and anxious about everything. 

Edgar is a generally kind and calm person. He is non-confrontational and has trouble voicing his opinion. Oftentimes, he will want to tell Jimmy something and will get spoken over. Edgar will often wrestle with the possibility of uncomfortable conversations and it takes a lot of effort for him to speak up.

Edgar struggles with PTSD from when he was in the war and is often overtly anxious as a result. He will be hyper vigilant and is often paranoid about what might happen. In the earlier seasons, Edgar was self-medicating and had issues with heroin abuse as a coping mechanism.

Edgar has trouble living in the moment and dealing with his anxiety so he begins to attend an improv comedy class to try and combat this. With improv comedy, Edgar finds something he is passionate about. He feels like he has finally found something he is good at and wants to share it with his friends. Edgar gets upset when nobody shows up at his comedy show, because he feels like nobody is noticing him or caring about what’s important to him.

Edgar is slow to anger and will often forgive people easily. Jimmy often treats Edgar quite poorly and uses him for housework. He is also often quite dismissive of Edgar’s feelings and problems. Despite this, Edgar cherishes his friendship with Jimmy and quickly forgives his mistakes. Sometimes, this almost reads to me as Edgar making excuses for the way he is treated by Jimmy and minimising his own feelings for the sake of his friendship with Jimmy.

Edgar has a tendency to not really know what he wants and can be easily led along as a result. When Dorothy takes him to an apartment that she can’t afford, he doesn’t hesitate to say they will move in together. However, when a drunk Jimmy tells him he has been manipulated he fights with Dorothy and changes his stance on moving in. It appears that Edgar was never really ready to move in and went with the flow of the situation. When he was pushed in another direction, his opinion quickly changed despite seemingly being sure at the time of what he had wanted.

Edgar has a wing 1 as he is more reserved and less likely to express his emotions than a wing 8 would be. 

Tri-type: 9w1 - 6w7 - 2w1

Some quotes and traits to describe Edgar’s traits and motivations:

“I didn't know it was a school.”

Tow Truck Driver: “Suicidal thoughts? You know the stats? 22 every day. Though, in truth, there are some Vietnam dudes that are jacking up our numbers, but still.” Edgar: “I thought starting today, things would get better. But they don't give a s**t.” Tow Truck Driver: “Here's what you got to understand. They're not evil. None of 'em are. The military's job is to sand down our humanity just enough to where we can take a life. That's it. Afterwards, some totally separate branch gets to deal with all these purposely broken motherfuckers. Not only is that impossible with the resources, that's just impossible, period.” Edgar: “Yeah, well, then, what are we supposed to do?” Tow Truck Driver: “Not wait for someone to help you. Figure out what works. My man Carter, he hunts all the time. This big chopper pilot I know, he goes to yoga. And we make fun of him, but it seems to work. Jorge hikes the PCT once a year. I got this companion dog. I wanted a big, mean dude, but the organisation gave me this little scrub. He saved my life, this guy. This other bro I know locks himself in his bedroom and stabs his closet door. I mean, he's not getting his deposit back, but once the rage passes, he's fine. I know you don't want to hear this, but the minute you stop looking for someone else to cure you, maybe you start living again.”

Edgar: “Yes, well, uh, we all know that I'm taking the prescribed steps to overcome the very common issues caused by combat situations.” Gretchen: “Ugh! We know. You were in a war. Get over it! And while you're at it, get over Lindsay. Have enough self-respect not to focus on someone who's still clearly obsessed with her lame, soft ex-husband.”

Edgar: “Whose house is this?” Paul: “My biking buddy Conner, his wife Mimi died recently.” Edgar: “What happened?” Paul: “Recumbant bikes have many good qualities but sometimes they're hard to see from up high. The driver of the semi never knew she was there, poor thing was dragged three miles. I've never seen Conner pedal so fast. He kept motioning frantically for the truck to stop. But the driver thought he wanted him honk. She was actually alive until the semi got on the freeway.” Edgar: “Well that's the most terrible thing...” Paul: “Sad thing is Mimi didn't want to go out that day because her safety flag had been stolen outside the junior high but Conner told her that they could stop at the bike store after they raced to Starbucks for tea.” Edgar: Please give my condolences to Conner... Paul: “The really sad thing, is that Conner wanted to let Mimi win, because her impetigo had been flaring up again, that's the only reason she reached the intersection first.” Edgar: “I don't really need to hear...” Paul: “The extra sad thing? The whole time she was being dragged towards the on-ramp she was texting Conner, her phone still accessible in its holder on the handlebars. I saw the texts...they're quite chilling.”