#and you are never going to chose to be better

[rynwrites4fun]

Across The Hall (9) | Michael Robinavitch x Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Michael Robinavitch x F ! Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Summary: You and Michael now live parallel lives—close in distance but distant as strangers. After a school field trip to the zoo, you get injured and are rushed to the Pittsburg Trauma Medical Center, straight to Michaels ER.

Word: 4971

Warnings: Age Gap (Mid 20s/Early 50s), Head Injury (Factured Skull), Bleeding from the ear, and Vomiting

Authors Note: Hello! Thank you for all the love on the last part. Lol I love seeing your guys comments and reactions. They crack me upppp. Couple more parts and this fic with come to a end🥲. Depending on season 2 maybe I'll write a spin off/Continuation of some sort 🤨??? or maybe I'll leave a good thing be. Idk this is all up in the air and just ideas. If I did continue it won't be until next year YIKES. Long way from now. But if you guys want it i'll prob do it lol very much a people pleaser 😭 also determined to finsihed eyes on me lol okay anyway. enjoy!!! - ryn

3 Months Later

Since that day—that morning where it ended—you and Michael had kept your distance. It wasn’t easy. Living across the hall meant you still saw each other constantly. You crossed paths in the elevator, passed in the lobby, caught glimpses through cracked doors. But it was different now. Cautious. Careful. The warmth was gone.

It was like reverting back to how things were in the beginning—only worse. Not acquaintances. Less than that. Strangers.

There were no more lingering glances, no more easy conversations or shared errands. No more moments where he helped you without being asked, like he just knew. Now it was all stiff nods and the occasional muttered “hey” or “hi,” as if everything between never happened or existed.

Your lives—once a single, tangled line—had split. Still running close, still crossing the same thresholds, but no longer connected. Now they moved in parallel. Close enough to feel, never close enough to touch.

You missed him. Not just being around him—but him. The version only you knew. The one who stayed late, who looked out for you, who let his guard down when it was just the two of you.

Now, it was like he barely looked your way. Just quick hellos, if that. And even those felt heavy.

Still, every time you saw him, you wondered if he missed you too.

And maybe—just maybe—you knew he missed you too.

But neither of you said a word.

Michael had been the first person to remind you what it felt like to be truly cared for. Losing that connection hurt deeply. But even without him, you were learning how to stand on your own. You are in a better place

After years stuck in a toxic, neglectful relationship with Aiden, you finally chose yourself. No more waiting to be seen or heard. You were rebuilding, piece by piece—stronger, quieter, more certain.

It was something Michael said the last time you saw him that stayed with you. His voice was calm but firm: “You need to figure yourself out. Really figure it out. What you want, what you feel… why you push people away when they treat you the way you deserve. Because if you don’t, you’re just going to keep hurting the people who care about you.”

Those words gave you the push you needed to walk away.

After breaking up with Aiden, the silence was deafening at first. No shouting, no blame, no empty promises—just quiet. And for once, that quiet felt like space you could breathe in, not suffocate.

You weren’t completely free yet. There were days when memories clawed at you, when loneliness crept in like a shadow. But with each morning you woke up without him, you felt a little stronger. A little more whole.

And Michael? Seeing him after everything—it wasn’t easy. There was a tension, a distance between you that hadn’t been there before. You still felt guilty for how things ended with him. But beneath it all, you knew one thing: his words had helped you find yourself again. Even if your connection had changed, that truth remained.

—

This morning, you had left your apartments at the same time, walking side by side in silence. No words. No eye contact. Just the sound of your footsteps echoing down the hallway—too close, too quiet.

He let you step into the elevator first, then slipped into his usual corner—like always. The space between you felt heavier than it should’ve in such a small box.

And every time you rode the elevator with him now, your mind drifted back to that morning. The one where everything shifted. The one where he had looked at you like he couldn’t wait another second. Where his hands trembled on your skin and nothing else existed. That morning where—for a moment—you both stopped pretending.

Now, you only pretended. Pretended not to miss it. Pretended not to look at him out of the corner of your eye. Pretended he wasn’t right there, close enough to touch, but choosing not to.

Then, suddenly—you don’t know why—you turned your head and glanced at him over your shoulder.

“Good morning,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, a small, uncertain smile on your lips.

Michael stood there, sunglasses on, coffee in hand, AirPods in. He didn’t respond. Didn’t nod. Normally, he’d say hello—or at least acknowledge you—but today wasn’t one of those days.

Maybe he hadn’t heard you.

But he had.

Because the truth was, he missed you. Every time he saw you, felt your presence so close yet unreachable, it tore at something inside him.

But talking—to break the silence—meant opening a door he wasn’t sure he could close. It meant risking everything he’d been trying to hold together.

The silence in that elevator was suffocating.

The doors slid open.

You stepped out first, heart pounding, words caught in your throat. By the time the two of you made it through the lobby and out to the street, you found yourself saying, “Have a good day.”

Still, he ignored you.

Without a word, he turned and walked in the opposite direction.

—--

It had been a good day.

There was a field trip to the Philadelphia Zoo, and the fifth graders had been buzzing with excitement since they got off the bus. They darted from exhibit to exhibit in loose clusters, calling out animal facts they half-remembered from class, pointing at the gorillas, giggling at the flamingos, and dramatically gagging when they passed smelly enclosures. 

You smiled through the chaos, constantly scanning the crowd, reminding them to walk—not run—while answering a steady stream of “Can we go there next?” and “Do we have to stay with our buddy?”

By the time the group began gathering near the exit to prepare for departure, the kids were hot, tired, and still somehow full of energy—trading animal facts, snacks, and complaints about the long walk back to the bus.

You turned to check on one of your students—and your foot caught on a backpack left sprawled across the pavement.

You didn’t even have time to brace yourself.

You went down hard.

Your head hit the ground with a sickening crack.

Everything went black for a moment.

You passed out for a few minutes before slowly waking up. When your eyes opened, your other 5th grade teachers and your students gathered around you, worried. 

A sharp pain pulsed through your head. When you touched the side of your face, your fingers came away wet—your ear was bleeding.

You tried to sit up, but your body felt heavy and unsteady. Panic flickered in your chest.

“Are you okay, Miss?” a student asked, voice trembling.

You forced a small, shaky smile. “I’ll be okay,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure.

One of the teachers noticed the blood coming from your ear when you touched it. They knew something was wrong—you needed to get to the hospital.

You tried to protest, insisting you were fine, but the other teachers wouldn’t hear it. Their concern was firm—they knew you needed medical attention. They called an ambulance, and took care of your kids as you headed to the hospital.

“Okay, we’re headed to PTMC,” the driver said to his partner in the back with you.

Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. No. You didn’t want to go there. Michael worked there.

“What? N-no, can’t you take me to Allegheny?” you asked, your voice shaking as you glanced up at the paramedic trying to stem the bleeding from your ear.

“Miss, PTMC is closer. Allegheny is too far,” the paramedic replied, his tone calm but unyielding.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit you hard. Before you could stop it, you threw up—your body reacting to the pain and shock.

The paramedics quickly handed you a bag, their expressions gentle but focused. Your head throbbed fiercely, and the thought of seeing Michael at PTMC made the room feel even more overwhelming.

You swallowed hard, gripping the stretcher tightly as the ambulance doors shut and the vehicle started moving. Outside, the world blurred past the windows, but inside, your mind spun with pain, fear, and an ache far deeper than the injury itself.

—-

It was busy in the ER today—loud, chaotic, the usual blur of motion and noise. Monitors beeped steadily in the background, gurneys rolled down hallways, voices called out orders and vitals in clipped tones. The scent of antiseptic clung to the air, mixing with the sharper tang of adrenaline and urgency.

Michael worked hard and efficiently, his hands steady and his voice calm as he checked charts, issued instructions, and answered questions. Every task was precise and practiced. But despite his focused exterior, his heart wasn’t fully in it today. Beneath the surface, his mind drifted elsewhere.

For some reason, you were heavy on his mind—ever since he saw you that morning in the elevator. Though he went about his work with his usual efficiency, every time he glanced up or caught a quiet moment, his thoughts slipped back to you. That brief encounter stirred something beneath his calm exterior, making it harder than usual to focus.

Even as he moved through the chaos of the ER, you lingered in the corners of his mind—a quiet weight he couldn’t shake. Each task felt automatic, mechanical, like he was running on autopilot 

At the nurses’ station, Dana glanced toward Michael as he passed by, pausing briefly. His eyes scanned the triage monitor for a moment before he continued on his rounds.

“What’s his vibe today?” Dana asked, peering over the top of her glasses as she flipped through a stack of charts.

Jack didn’t look up from the computer. “Full-on rain cloud.”

Dana let out a quiet laugh. “That bad?”

Jack finally glanced up. “Yeah. Barely talking. Just doing his rounds like a ghost.”

Dana frowned slightly. She hadn’t had a real catch-up with Robby in a while.

“I don’t think I’ve heard him say anything beyond patient loads and charts in weeks,” she murmured.

Jack leaned back in his chair. “Yeah. He’s been keeping things tight. You can tell he’s holding something in… and it’s not just stress.”

Dana sighed, looking up from the computer. “It’s been—what? Three months since they stopped talking?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, watching Michael enter an exam room. “He’s doing okay. Better than a few months ago, for sure. But I think today’s one of those days where he’s really missing her.”

Jack added quietly, “It’s hard to tell with him sometimes. He’s always been good at hiding what’s really going on.”

Dana didn’t respond right away, distracted by the faint sound of sirens growing louder in the distance.

“Looks like a bus just pulled up,” she said, glancing toward the ambulance bay.

Jack turned, following her line of sight. Through the glass doors, he spotted the rig backing in, its lights still flashing. The paramedics moved quickly, unloading a gurney from the back, getting ready to wheel someone inside.

“I got it,” he said, already moving toward the doors.

“Alright, what do we got?” 

Jack reached the stretcher as the paramedic began briefing him. 

“Mid-20s female, teacher on a zoo field trip. She tripped over a backpack and hit her head on the pavement. She lost consciousness briefly after the fall. There’s blood coming from her ear. She vomited on the way here and reported dizziness and nausea and is currently somewhat disoriented.”

“Exam Room 13’s open!” Dana called out as she overheard part of the paramedics’ briefing.

The gurney rolled past the nurses’ station in a blur of motion—wheels rattling, footsteps fast. Dana glanced up from her charts and files to get a quick look at the incoming patient… and froze.

Her eyes widened, recognition flickering across her face as she stood up straighter, instinctively stepping out onto the floor. Her heart skipped. Her eyes narrowed, trying to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

It was you.

You looked pale, out of it—a plastic bag clutched in your hand, vomit on your shirt, and a smear of dried blood trailing from your ear. But it was unmistakably you.

The same woman she’d seen, playing around with Michael in aisle 9 of the grocery store fighting over cookies. 

Jack was already directing the paramedics to Exam Room 13, calling for trauma supplies as he moved alongside the gurney.

Dana stood abruptly, eyes darting around the ER. Looking for Michael.

Shit. Where’s Robby? Which wing did he go? She thought.

“Jack!” she called, rushing after him. She fell into step beside him as they wheeled you. 

“What?” he asked, not slowing.

“It’s her!” she hissed, voice low but urgent.

“Who?”

“The friend-neighbor-almost-something-—her,” Dana said, eyes wide. “Robby’s girl.”

Dana watched as Jack’s head whipped to face her. His expression shifts—from confusion to clarity, then to something dangerously close to dread.

Jack stopped short, turning just in time to see the gurney disappear into Exam Room 13. His expression changed instantly.

He looks at Dana again “That was her? Are you sure?” 

“Yes!”

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

“What do we do?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jack didn’t hesitate. “We need to tell him.”

Dana’s brows knit. “Are you sure? After everything… you know how torn up he was…well still is” she trailed off, uncertain. “I mean, do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Yes,” Jack said firmly. “He still cares about her, still feels things for her. You know he does.”

Dana hesitated, lips pressed into a line.

“He’s not over her, Dana. Not even close. No matter how messy the fallout was, he’d want to know. And if he finds out she was here and we kept it from him…”

“He’d never forgive us,” Dana finished, already nodding.

Jack’s jaw was tight. “Exactly.”

“Look I’ll take care of her, find him as soon as you can and tell him. Okay?” 

“Alright” they quickly went off in different directions. 

—

The harsh fluorescent lights overhead felt like too much—too bright, too sharp—cutting through the fog in your skull. Your stomach churned again, sour and unsettled. You’d already thrown up in the ambulance, the evidence smeared across your shirt, and the nausea still clung to you, heavy and unrelenting. It was like your body couldn’t decide if it was in pain or panic.

The nurse—Princess, according to her badge—helped you onto the exam table from the gurney, guiding you gently as you sat down.

“Let’s get you settled,” she said calmly.

You nodded, though the movement made your head throb and your stomach turn.

Princess moved with calm precision, wrapping a cuff around your arm to check your blood pressure and attaching monitors to track your vitals. She was already prepping the IV, her hands steady, practiced.

“Pressure’s a little low,” she murmured, mostly to herself, then offered you a small, reassuring smile.

You closed your eyes as the needle slid into your arm, trying to focus on her calm voice instead of the pounding in your head.

She grabbed a damp cloth and gently began wiping the vomit from your shirt, doing the best she could to clean you up while keeping you comfortable.

“You’re doing okay,” she said softly. “Just stay with me.”

Princess noticed the shift in your expression—the way your face paled. Without a word, she grabbed a plastic basin and placed it gently in your lap.

“Just in case,” she said softly.

A moment later, the door opened and a man stepped in, wearing navy scrubs and a calm, focused expression.

“I’m Dr. Jack Abbot,” he said as he approached. “I’ll be taking care of you today.”

Jack

The name stood out. Michael’s friend—he’d mentioned him a couple of times. Quick stories, casual references. You never met him, but the name stuck.

Now here he was, standing in front of you. And suddenly, it all felt just a little more real.

To Jack, you were more than just another patient. You were her—the neighbor, the teacher, the one Michael couldn’t stop thinking about. The one who shattered him.

He was torn. Part of him wanted to resent you. Another part couldn’t help but feel sorry—for both you and Michael. It hurt watching Michael suffer in silence, burying his feelings under layers of composure. But there was sadness for you too—because Jack knew you were still clinging to something broken. A relationship that should’ve ended long ago.

But none of that mattered now. He needed to take care of you—not only because it was his job, but for Michael. 

You and Jack locked eyes. Neither of you spoke, but something passed between you—an unspoken recognition. You both knew each other through Michael, even if you’d never met before. And in that silence, there was a quiet acknowledgment of everything that wasn’t being said.

“Let’s get you checked out,” he said gently.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He pulled on a pair of gloves and waited patiently as you gathered your thoughts.

“I tripped over a student’s backpack. I fell… hit my head on the side,” you said, your voice a little shaky.

Princess, at the computer nearby, typed quickly, capturing every detail.

“You passed out? For how long?”

“I don’t know. No more than 5 minutes?”

“And you feel nauseous?” Jack takes notice of the dried blood from your ear. 

“Yes” He brought his hands up, feeling your head, and then he felt it. A squishy part on the side of your head. 

Shit. 

Jack’s eyes narrowed as he gently pressed around the swollen area, careful not to cause more pain. His mind raced—without a CT scan, he knew the injury was serious. How severe, though, remained uncertain.

“Okay, stay still for me,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We need to get a CT scan to find out exactly what we’re dealing with.” He says to the Princess, but also to you.

You nodded, swallowing hard, the dizziness and nausea pressing harder with every breath.

Princess looked up from her computer. “I’m alerting neurology and radiology now.”

Jack forced a steady breath, trying to stay composed though inside, worry tightened its grip.

Your stomach lurched, and you vomited into the plastic basin Princess had handed you earlier. Jack stepped back slightly, giving you room but keeping his eyes locked on you, watching for any sign of worsening condition.

Princess moved quickly to help, she handed you a clean towel and quietly assured you as you wiped your face.

Princess stepped over, grabbing a pair of gloves and a warm saline wipe.

You flinched as she dabbed gently at the dried blood near your ear, trying not to let it sting. 

“Sorry,” Princess murmured, careful and quiet.

Jack watched closely but because the signs were impossible to ignore. The dried blood near your ear, the squishy spot on the scalp, the nausea and dizziness—they all pointed to something serious. Possibly a skull fracture.

Until the scan came back, there wasn’t much he could confirm. But in his gut, he already knew this wasn’t minor.

He reached for a chart from the counter, flipping it open and beginning to write. His pen scratched quickly across the paper, but he kept looking up every few seconds—checking your breathing, your pallor, the way you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Princess adjusted the bed slightly, propping it up so you could sit comfortably. She hands you a new plastic basin. She takes the used wipes and throws it in the trash along with her gloves and goes to wash her hands. 

You glanced at him, searching. “Did… did Michael send you?”

Princess moved to gather the extra materials they hadn’t used, placing them neatly on the supply rack. Her movements were quiet, efficient, but her attention never strayed far. She listens closely. 

Jack shook his head. “No. Robby doesn’t know you’re here… at least not yet.”

At that, Princess froze for just a moment. She didn’t know the full story, but it was clear you and Michael were connected. Her eyes flicked to Jack, widening slightly. A silent exchange passed between them—brief, but unmistakable.

Jack sighed inwardly. He knew exactly what she was thinking—the bet she and several other staff had made a few weeks ago at the bar about Michael having a girlfriend. Now was not the time.

His eyes locked onto hers, sharp, silently warning: Don’t even think about it. He shook his head slightly.

You hadn’t noticed the exchange. Your eyes closed, feeling dizzy, your head throbbing. The words slipped out before you could stop them. “That’s the last thing I want.”

Princess gave an innocent, almost playful raise of her eyebrows, but beneath it was something calculating. She grabbed a chart out of Jack's hands and scurried out of the room, leaving a faint echo of footsteps behind her.

Jack remained still, watching her retreat. His jaw tightened, mouth pressed into a hard line. In the ER, whispers traveled faster than code blue alarms—money and rumors would be swirling in less than a few minutes. 

Jack exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a brief second. He’ll deal with it later he tells himslef.

Jack leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just studied you—pale, clearly worn down.

You swallowed hard, the dizziness still buzzing faintly at the edges of your mind.

“I don’t want to make things harder for him.”

“He’ll know,” Jack said quietly, his voice flat with certainty. “He’ll come rushing in here once he finds out—I guarantee it.”

“He likes you—a lot, cares for you deeply” he said, matter-of-fact, like it was the plainest truth in the world. “I’ve seen him talk about people before—patients, colleagues, even exes. But never like this.”

Your eyes flicked open. Jack wasn’t looking at you anymore.

You didn’t interrupt. His words caught you off guard—soft but heavy.

“With you… it’s different,” Jack said. “He’s not the guy who makes big declarations. But his actions? Loud as hell.”

He stepped closer, eyes searching yours—not confrontational, just honest.

“That day—after everything fell apart—he barely said a word.”

Jack’s voice dropped. “He didn’t say much. But I’ve known him long enough to read between the lines. Michael’s the silent type. Shove it down, suffer alone. That’s always been his way. He doesn’t fall easily. And he sure as hell doesn’t bounce back quickly.”

And didn’t you know it—you ruined what you two had. You looked down at your hands.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” you said.

Jack finally met your eyes. There wasn’t anger—just a tired kind of clarity. “Maybe not. But it still happened.”

There was no heat in his voice. No judgment. Just the truth.

“He’ll handle it. He always does.”

He backed toward the door.

“My instinct is to tell you to continue stay away from him... keep the distance. To protect him.”

A beat.

“But even with all that… there’s a part of me that still hopes it works out between you two.”

He held your gaze.

“If there’s even a small chance you feel the same—don’t waste it.”

Then, firm again, “But don’t show up in his orbit unless you’re sure.”

“I’ll be back to get you for the CT scan. If you need anything, press the call button.”

And with that, he was gone.

—

Dana had spent the last several minutes searching—looking for Michael. The constant rush of the ER had kept her moving nonstop, priorities shifting by the second as new cases rolled in. Between the noise, the pages, and the demands of back-to-back emergencies, she hadn’t had a spare moment—until now. Finally able to look, she peeked into each exam room as she passed, also scanning for Michael.

Finally, she spotted him. 

Standing in the doorway, she called out, “Dr. Robby?”

Michael was looking up from the chart he was filling out while Victoria Javadi, the med student currently shadowing him, checked the patient under his supervision.

“Can… I talk to you outside?”

Michael glanced at her, then back at Javadi.

“Hold it down here. I’ll be right back,” he said, giving her a nod before stepping out into the ER floor with Dana.

“What’s up?” he asked, arms crossing over his chest.

Dana swallowed. “Robby, she’s here. Exam Room 13.”

“Who’s here?” His brow furrowed, clearly not understanding.

“She’s here,” Dana said again, slower this time, her eyes locking onto him.

Then it hit him.

His stomach dropped.

You’re here.

“W–what?” he said, hard and sharp, disbelief cutting through his voice.

“The bus pulled in a while ago-"

“How long ago?!” His voice rose, sharp.

“Half an hour—she hit her head. Took a fall during the field trip—”

Michael’s heart skipped, then kicked into overdrive. He didn’t wait for the rest.

He turned on his heel and bolted, weaving through the ER, past gurneys, staff, and startled patients.

He barely registered people calling his name.

Didn’t care about the chart he’d left behind, the patient waiting for him at 7 with Victoria, or the conversation he’d been having seconds ago.

All he could hear was Dana’s voice echoing in his head.

She hit her head.

His hands were already trembling. Thoughts circled like vultures—loud, fast, frantic. He didn’t know how bad it was. Was it minor? Maybe. But probably not—Not if the ambulance brought her in.

And then another thought struck—hard and bitter.

He’d ignored you this morning.

You’d smiled at him. Said, “Good morning.” Told him to have a good day.

And he hadn’t said anything back.

He’d brushed past you like you didn’t matter. And now—now this.

His chest felt tight. His feet moved faster.

Room 13. Room 13. Room 13.

Nothing else mattered. Not now.

Because you were here.

And you were hurt.

 He rounded the corner too fast, nearly slipped—caught himself—nearly crashing into Jack as he stepped out of Exam Room 13.

“WOAH!” Jack exclaimed, throwing an arm out to steady them both.

“Robby—”

“I gotta get to her—I” Michael said breathlessly, trying to push past him.

Jack grabbed his shoulders, holding him in place. “Stop, she’s gone.”

Robby froze. His heart plummeted, eyes going wide as the blood drained from his face. He couldn’t breathe—he just stood there, stunned, like the ground had been ripped out from under him.

Jack’s eyes widened as he realized. “Oh—shit—no! Gone as in, not in the room! I took her to her CT scan!”

Michael’s breath shuddered out of him. He stumbled back a step, dragging a hand down his face.

“FUCK, Abbot!” he snapped, voice hoarse. “Next time, maybe lead with that!!!”

Jack winced, “Yeah. Okay. Fair. Sorry!” He says quickly.

Michael looked like he was about to break. Without hesitation, Jack grabbed his elbow and pulled him inside your exam room, closing the door behind them.

Jack softened. “You want to sit for a second?”

Michael shook his head, jaw tight. “No. Just… give me a minute.”

His chest rising and falling like he’d just run a mile. He turned away from Jack and leaned heavily against the wall, one hand braced flat against it while the other gripped his thigh. For a long moment, he stayed like that—bent slightly at the waist, eyes squeezed shut—trying to catch his breath and slow his racing heart.

Then, with a trembling hand, he reached under his scrub top and T-shirt and pulled out the gold Star of David necklace he always wore—small, worn, and mostly hidden. He rubbed it between his fingers, clutching it tight in his calloused palm like a lifeline.

With his eyes still closed, he drew in a shaky breath, as if trying to summon strength from somewhere deep inside—something steady, unyielding.

Jack said nothing. He didn’t need to. He just watched, quiet and still, letting Michael have the space to come back to himself.

Michael straightened slowly, collecting himself.

“She’s okay?” Michael finally forced out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jack exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s conscious. Talking. But I’m pretty sure she has a skull fracture—I just don’t know how severe yet. We’re gonna have ro wait on the CT to tell us more.”

Michael’s face went pale. His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

Jack softened his tone. “Listen, Robby… I know this sucks. It’s scary, but you’re not alone here. We’re doing everything we can, as fast as we can. She’s tough, and she’s got the best care possible.”

He paused, then added, “It’s us. This team, this hospital—we make it work. You know that. You’ve been part of holding it together more times than I can count.”

Michael’s jaw twitched, but his eyes flicked up—just for a second—as Jack continued.

“She’s in good hands. Our hands.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “Okay.” But there was no real conviction in his voice. 

Jack glanced at Michael, his expression firm but not unkind.

“There’s nothing you can do right now, Robby,” he said quietly. “I know that’s the last thing you want to hear, but it’s the truth.”

Michael’s eyes stayed fixed on the floor, jaw still tight, hands flexing at his sides.

Jack’s voice softened. “And as much as I hate to say it… you’ve got to pull it together and do your job. For now. Until she comes back from CT. We’ll know more soon.”

Michael closed his eyes for a beat, breathing through the heaviness in his chest. Then he nodded—barely.

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

Jack glanced around. “It’s busy today. You know how it is—we’ve got to stay on top of everything, keep things moving.”

Michael knew Jack was right. As much as it tore at him, there was nothing more he could do right now.

So he did the only thing he could—he took a deep breath, straightened his spine, and began to shift the panic into focus. Into control.

He would see you when you came back from CT. Until then, he’d do his job. Just like he always had.

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misshuntermc: Are you my present? 😋

↳ _thedrzayne: If you’d like ↳ misshuntermc: 😈😈

yvannamama: Happy Birthday beautiful! 😘

↳ misshuntermc: Thank you bby 🤭

gray.sun: Happy Bday bestie! 😋

↳ misshuntermc: Thank you bestie 😚

liiisa_: That view is so pretty 😍

↳ liiisa_: oh yeah the buildings are nice too 🫤 ↳ simonesays: Bro thought we wouldn’t notice ↳ talkthat_tara: About as slick as sandpaper ↳ misshuntermc: I chose this shirt for a reason 🙂‍↕️

imjenna: What did glorilla say?👂🏼

↳ misshuntermc: JENNA WHY ↳ nene.nero: wrong she said face cute titties perk 🗣️

callmecaleb: Don’t ask me the color of nothing 🫠

↳ talkthat_tara: STAAAHHP ↳ _thedrzayne: Don’t make me block you

— View 18 more comments

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by _thedrzayne, yvannamama, talkthat_tara and 240k others

misshuntermc: Don’t look at the caption look at me💅🏾

photo credit: My man my man my maaannn

tagged: _thedrzayne

comments

_thedrzayne: The definition of Eye Candy

↳ misshuntermc: So many thoughts an none of them are holy 😏 ↳ _thedrzayne: Save it for later ↳ misshuntermc: Yes sir 🫡

simonesays: GIRL IM LOOKIN’ 👀

talkthat_tara: I’m no better than a man 😮‍💨

liiisa_: Zayne you wanna share?

↳ _thedrzayne: Absolutely not ↳ liiisa_: Lame 🙄

imjenna: Have a glass for me hun! Enjoy yourself!

↳ misshuntermc: I’ll have a shot for you as well! 💕

_thedrnoah: Happy Birthday sweetheart :)

↳ misshuntermc: Thank you 🥺

— View 305 more comments

_thedrzayne [Private Story]

↺ viewed by misshuntermc, nene.nero, gray.sun and 8 others

_thedrzayne: My sleeping beauty

mentioned: misshuntermc

yvannamama replied to private story: ooooh did you put her to sleep Dr. Zayne? 👀

gray.sun replied to private story: ooooh why’s she so tired? 👀

talkthat_tara replied to private story: Where’s her bonnet? 😧

misshuntermc replied to private story: PUT MY BONNET ON ME NEXT TIME I BEG YOU 🤧

_thedrzayne

♥️ liked by simonesays, callmecaleb, misshuntermc and 24k others

_thedrzayne: I hope we can spend many more birthdays together Happy Birthday My Love 🤍

tagged: misshuntermc

comments

misshuntermc: You’re stuck with me for life if you get tired of me go take a nap 😚

↳ _thedrzayne: I’ll never tire of you

talkthat_tara: Words can’t explain how much I love how well you treat her ☹️

↳ liiisa_: No fr we have to protect this relationship at all costs 😤

callmecaleb: She’s allergic to grass remember 😒

↳ simonesays: Don’t you have a fighter jet to go barrel roll or something? 🤨 ↳ giggity_gideon: If they have no haters Caleb must be dead …. again ↳ nene.nero: PFFFTTT ☠️

— View 30 more comments

[happyk44]

[Text ID: 1. "I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. [highlight] I am, I am, I am." [end highlight]

2. And that I did not give to anyone the responsibility for my life. It is mine. I made it. And can do what I want to with it. Live it. Give it back, someday, without bitterness to the wild and weedy dunes.

3. It's just... I've got a lot of life left to live.

4. Let's pay attention only to where we are.

There's enough beauty in being here and not somewhere else.

5. I am here and I'm alive. [highlight] That's enough. [end highlight]

6. but survival aint never been no crime against nature or Maker. See, stay alive in the meantime, laugh a little harder. Go on and gnaw that bone clean.

7. My mother said that I could be anything I wanted -- [highlight] but I chose to live. [end highlight]

8. Did you live?

Even better, I lived. Even more, I lived. Even better, I am living. /end ID]

sylvia plath / mary oliver / rick riordan / fernando pessoa / honorée fanonne jeffers / ocean vuong / ada limón

[peasack]

I love your work!!! I was wondering if you'd write a teen!reader headcanon for them struggling with mental health, needing help with homework, coming out or getting bullied please? I especially love how you write Ava (she's my favourite character) and you manage to nail the Alexis voice

Absolutely adore this request.

I chose to write about the mental health, since I all of them (obviously) know how to deal with that. But I'll definitely put the other suggestions on my list!

Thunderbolts x Gn!Teen!Reader

✦ Thunderbolts Mental Health Support Headcanons ✦

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

✦ Ava Starr

The quiet protector. Ava’s not the type to talk circles around you or push you to open up. Instead, she watches. She notices the changes in your behaviorthe silence, the distance, the fake smiles and instead of asking a million questions, she simply shows up. She’ll quietly sit next to you, maybe reading or scrolling on her phone, just so you know she’s there without overwhelming you.

Understands isolation deeply. After everything with her phasing, Ava knows what it’s like to feel broken, like you're a burden, like no one could possibly understand. So when you isolate, she doesn’t take it personally. She just leaves a small trail for you to follow when you’re ready a text, a post-it note, a granola bar on your desk. Tiny signs that say you’re not forgotten.

Soft but firm boundaries. If you try to shut her out completely or brush her off with a fake “I’m fine,” Ava will tilt her head at you with this deadpan look and go, “Try again.” Not mean, not angry. Just “I see through you. You’re not fine. But I’ll wait for you to be ready.” She never lets you disappear completely.

Takes you on quiet, low-pressure ‘missions.’ She’ll invite you on drives, walks, or errands that sound boring but feel safe. “Come with me to pick up supplies. No talking necessary.” It’s her way of offering you company without forcing conversation. These small moments help you reconnect to the world without overwhelming you.

Gentle about scars and history. When she finds out about your past or your scars, she doesn’t freak out. She doesn’t lecture. She just softly says, “You’ve survived a lot. You don’t have to survive it alone anymore.” And that’s it. She holds it like a secret you entrusted her with.

Fiercely protective in her own silent way. If anyone triggers you, bullies you, or drags you down—Ava will quietly, ruthlessly remove that threat from your life. No one knows how, but that person suddenly just leaves you alone. Ava doesn’t need credit or thanks. She just protects you. Always.

✦ Alexei Shostakov

Not the best with words, but man does he show up. Alexei might not always know what to say, but he makes sure you know you’re not alone. He’ll randomly sit with you, bring you snacks, or drag you into the living room to watch terrible old Soviet movies with him, just to keep you company.

Overcompensates with physical comfort. He’s big on hugs and ruffling your hair, and you get the sense he’s constantly making sure you’re still there, still safe. He’s the kind of guy who will pat your back so hard you almost fall over—but you feel a little better afterward.

Terrible at hiding his concern. He’ll blurt out things like, "You are not allowed to disappear, okay? I will find you. I will find whoever made you sad. I will crush them like beetle."

Secretly keeps an eye on your routines. He notices if you’re skipping meals, missing sleep, or isolating. He’s not subtle—he’ll straight up drag you out of bed and be like, “We are going for silly little walk. It is non-negotiable.”

Panics when you cry. He immediately calls for backup (usually Yelena) like he’s reporting a code red. But he stays. Always. Even when he’s unsure what to do, he refuses to leave your side.

✦ Yelena Belova

The calm-in-a-storm type. When you’re spiraling, Yelena doesn’t flinch. She sits next to you, quietly, like, "Okay. We are sad now. I will be sad with you." She doesn’t try to fix you. She just holds space.

Violently protective of your mental space. If someone at school or even in the team says something that hurts you, she’s on it like a hawk. “Tell me who. I just want to talk.” (She does not just want to talk.)

Talks about her own issues openly. She’ll casually drop lines like, "Yeah, I have bad days too. I usually throw knives to feel better." She tries to normalize it so you never feel broken.

Pulls you into little missions or tasks when you isolate. "Come help me spy on Alexei. It will be fun." It’s her way of reconnecting you with the world.

Terrible with cheesy comfort phrases. Instead, you get blunt affection. "You are not allowed to give up. You are my family. You do not get to leave me. I will be annoying forever, so you must stay to suffer me."

✦ Bucky Barnes

The king of quiet understanding. He never pushes. Never demands you explain. Just sits next to you, offers a cup of tea, and sometimes just says, "I’ve been there. You don’t have to talk, but I get it."

Not great with open emotional convos but will listen all night if you need. He doesn’t always know what advice to give, but he will nod along, let you ramble, and toss in dry little jokes to keep you grounded.

Gives you space but always checks in. Leaves little notes on your door like "I’m making food. You better eat." Or sends you a text: "Still breathing? Cool. Come hang when you’re ready."

Gets quietly, intensely protective if anyone makes you feel worse. He won’t make a scene but will 100% have a quiet, terrifying “chat” with the person responsible.

Teaches you small things to help. Like how to box when you’re angry, or how to breathe when you’re spiraling. He’s the type to hand you coping tools instead of empty comfort.

✦ Bob Reynolds

So, so soft about it. Bob is super emotionally tuned in and probably notices you’re struggling before you say anything. He gets this gentle, concerned tone like, "Hey, kid… you doing okay?"

Overthinks and worries a lot. He’s scared of saying the wrong thing or making you worse, but he wants to help. He’ll sit with you, make you tea, or put on your favorite show just to be near you.

Big on distraction days. He’ll offer to play games, watch movies, even sit and listen to music together, anything to help you breathe and not be stuck in your head.

Sassy comfort. Once you’re closer, he’ll throw in playful sass to make you smile when you’re down. "Look, you’re stuck with me now. Can’t get rid of me. I’m like emotional gum on your shoe."

If you cry in front of him, he crumbles. He holds you so carefully like you might break, and his voice drops to the softest whisper like, "Hey… hey, you’re safe. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you.”

✦ John Walker

Awkward but fiercely loyal. John’s not super in touch with his own emotions, but the moment he sees you’re struggling, he’s locked in. He just… doesn’t always know how to handle it. "You, uh, wanna… I dunno. Wanna hit something? Or get ice cream? Or whatever helps?"

Overprepares. Starts reading up on mental health resources, making checklists in his phone like "Things To Help The Kid When They're Sad" because he genuinely wants to be good at this.

Dad-mode activated. He’ll randomly show up with snacks, your favorite drink, or movie nights without making a big deal out of it. If you try to thank him, he waves it off like, "Don’t worry about it, kid. It’s what I’m here for."

Gets super angry at anyone who hurts you. Like, full-on clenched fists, ready-to-throw-down angry. But he channels it quietly—he just gets very, very protective from a distance.

Awkward comfort, but real. Might pat your back stiffly and mutter, "Look… I might not always get it. But I care about you, okay? You’re family. You’re my kid now. Deal with it."

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hope this was alright, it's a little more detailed on Ava’s part since, of course, the request was for her.

If you guys have more requests please leave them in my inbox! <3

[lieutenant-lithuania]

I loovveeee reading yan batfam x neglected reader — and I do not mean to offend anyone at all!— But there is a pattern that I noticed going on where reader is neglected, runs away and accepts it and lives a normal life till the batfam finally realizes and takes them back. And I love them! Believe me, I eat them up like a man on death row. But I also wanna see something different... Sorry for the change from 3d Person in the first imagine to 2nd person in the second story :')

Maybe when Y/N runs away they swear to become better than Bruce and becomes a billionaire popular for disliking the Wayne family, and no one is the wiser because Y/N changed their name. And they reject any invite or offer from Bruce or anyone from the family when they want to talk to them. Y/N dangles the fact that they can easily spill the fact that they're the bat vigilantes. Something happens and Y/N decides to ruin their life like they ruined theirs. But the batfam kidnaps them and stages it as another villain out for money taking them. Y/N is obviously angry and demands to be let go. They refuse, and keep Y/N. Slowly though, they see how Y/N really grew up and finally see them for their true self— not the frail child that was too scared to harm a fly— but a strong and smart person that built an entire company successful enough to rival Bruces money and reputation.

Or maybe you try your hardest to impress the family by achieving things people their age wouldn't even dream of, but were always discarded nonetheless because they didn't fully want to become a vigilante. Seeing that you will not be part of the family unless you join the business, you became disheartened and run away. You start to search for work and end up coming face to face Deathstroke. He initially wanted to capture you to get to Bruce, but you bluntly told him that you do not affiliate with the family anymore and that you ran away. Deathstroke is intrigued and decides to give you a home. And when he saw you potential, he immediately offered a position. Not as his sidekick, but as his partner in crime. You were hesitant at first, but then the memories of being dejected by your own blood ran back through you in the form of pure rage, and you agreed. He helped pick up the pieces of your broken self and gave you a purpose. He showed you basic appreciation that no one else ever did, taking on a parental role in your life. So when the batfamily had to fight against you, they were beyond shocked. You chose to become a villain. At some point after you reencounter, they catch you off-guard in your home and take you back. They thought Deathstroke brainwashed you, made you join in your despair. You were quick to deny that theory and told it to them straight. They treated you like a liability— a stranger. In your entire life of living under the same roof as them they never showed you a single ounce of recognition where Deathstroke handed it over to you in no time. They had to win you back, but it is much much harder when you don't see them as your own family.

[noctiva]

Who would regret breaking up, would they want to get the relationship back? I need some male suffering and HUMILIATION! Especially from CODY!!!! <3

Toby: IMMEDIATELY regrets it. like the moment all that anger cools into grief he is a goddamn fucking wreck. tries to convince himself it was for the best but doesn’t believe that at all. might go out looking for some random girl to hook up with in attempts to get over you, only for him to close his eyes and imagine it’s you the entire time. like. it’s rough.

He cycles between anger and sadness on a constant loop. Cries himself dry. Trashes his room in an attempt to get all of these horrible feelings out, and it doesn’t work.

he is either a) stalking you and trying to win you back over like i detailed in a prior post, or b) straight up showing up at your doorstep begging for you to take him back. he’s pathetic.

-

Jack: Regrets it after a week or two. He thought he’d get used to it - he’d been icing you out for the last few months of your relationship anyway, so what’s the difference in just not having you there at all? Turns out, it’s a big one. His body aches for you. Any flesh he sinks his teeth into tastes rotten compared to how sweet he knows your blood is.

Your absence weighs on him heavy. Like he had accidentally given you a piece of himself when he sent you away. Despite this, he’s not seeking you back out. He did what he did for a reason - and he’ll suffer if it means you don’t have to.

He truly, wholeheartedly believes that you are better off without him. And though sometimes he debates being selfish and crawling back to you, he can never bring himself to actually do it.

-

Brian: Sort of kind of regrets it? But more so missing the familiarity than the actual… relationship itself. He had just grown used to having someone to come home to, some to talk to, someone who was always happy to see him. He thought he could go back to being alone since he’d done it before, but for some reason this one sticks.

He stays up late watching back old tapes he took of you over and over again, trying to work up the courage to delete them. He never does.

There’s a 50/50 chance on whether or not he asks for you back. If he does, it’s him calling you from a pay phone late at night, not even giving an introduction because he knows you know his voice. To the point, just like how he had been when he broke up with you. ‘darlin’, i fucked up.’

-

Tim: Misses you the moment he steps out of the door, but doesn’t regret it. Even if it hurts, he knows it would’ve just ended up being more painful if he stuck around. The two of you weren’t made to last, despite how much both of you wanted that to be wrong. He was just the only one with the courage to actually end things before they got messy.

He doesn’t forget about you, not ever. Doesn’t find a new partner - partially because everyone else just falls short in comparison to you, and partially because he knows that any other romantic endeavour would just end up the exact same way.

He prays that you’ve moved on. Checks up on you sometimes in hopes that you have. Maybe one day he’ll watch you from the other side of the street, happily walking along with a new boyfriend. It’s equal parts soothing as it is gut wrenching.

-

Cody: Tells himself that he doesn’t regret it, but he most definitely does. You were the only one who really, truly got him. The only one who was patient enough to break down his walls. The only one who didn’t scoff, didn’t berate him for the way he acted - you encouraged him. Loved him. He doesn’t realize how much he really needed that until it’s gone.

Finds himself forgetting you’re not there. Turns to the spot you’d always sit next to him at his lab bench, a half-formed question on his lips that dies the moment his eyes fall on the empty space.

But, despite all that, he doesn’t ask for you back. This was his choice. He could’ve kept you, and yet he chose to let you go. It’s a fact he’ll force himself to live with.

-

Habit: Doesn’t regret it. Well, maybe a tiny bit deep down. But not because he misses you, or feels remorse for his actions. It’s just because you had just been such a treat while it lasted.

You just took everything he gave you. We’re so blinded by your love that you were so easy to just push and push. To take you to your brink and then push past it. It was a treat every time, watching how much you could take before you broke.

Of course he picks up new victims, fresh meat - but they’re just not as fun. He finds himself getting irritated when they can’t take as much as you could.

[artificial-people-ai]

What I meant was that it's not a mechanical thing. S01E01, MB chose to let the guys burn its hand because "it's nothing compared to what the governor module would do to me if I don't comply". Of course is conditioning, coercion, sIavery, and all the big awful words. But I meant they're not doing it in an automatic mechanical way, but actually thinking "I should do this, otherwise it'll be worse".

To be clear, the last thing I'm doing is defending Corp. Rim, they treat humans as slaves too, I mean, Gurathin, all the other workers at the factory, it's...wow. So you can't expect better from the same Corporation when we talk about SecUnits in general. That appear to be treated like less than furniture by others all over. Like Leebeebee aggressively trying to get on with MB and "modify" MB's body for "use" even after knowing its acting like a free agent and not controlled, that was a scene in equal parts absolutely funny and absolutely disgusting. Implying that humans regularly abuse SecUnits "just because they paid for them, so they're their property to use as they like", while this bots are all fully conscious they're being ..."you know".

Everything about it is...next level horrendously WRONG.

Like, this "aggressive" reaction, it's absolutely warranted. 👇

It's absolutely understandable why SecUnit is the way it is. The crew only gets creeped out because they never had to go through what MB did go through. It feels better when people don't look at its face, "its not a se x bot", MB is trying to make a clear point. "Mess with me and I have weapons, I can defend myself now". That's one hell of a statement.

maybe, if murderbot had to be really honest, it hurt that the humans celebrated the other Security Unit's death.

it was just doing its job, after all. it didn't have a choice. Did they have to cheer so loud when it was beheaded?

would they cheer if murderbot were beheaded, too?

(I was thinking about this after SE01 EP07)

[yandere-sins]

Leona is smart but he hasn't realized something AHAHA

If his duchess aka darling were to give birth, that child of his WILL be held to the same standards as their mom. Perhaps even higher; if their mother is a nobody who ends up as a duchess loved by the people and the royal family, the child who is of royal blood SHOULD be as good or better than their mother.

Which means that in the long run, Leona will have less time to spend with his duchess because everyone encourages the duchess to be heavily involved in her kid's education. As you said, the royal family nags Leona and praises his darling, so ofc the royal family encourages mommy-kid bonding time so that the child will take after her.

Ah, imagine being second-place to his brother, second-place as a father because your kid spends a lot of time with your wife and not you, and second-place in the hearts of the people.

Oh man, the last section really made my heart ache for my poor baby ;; Leona, you'll always be my number one!!!

That aside, you have a good point there! The child definitely has to live up to their title, but also probably not as strictly as the first-born of the reigning monarch. That's at least Leona's excuse as he takes his child out of the busy schedule despite protests (because, well, he's still the highest ranking in his own family, so no one can really go against him) and takes them on a daddy-kid date! Who can begrudge him for being a good father? No one!

Quite the contrary! If he takes the child out of the palace and shows them around by his side, people will actually start approving of him more, as it shows good character to be a good, involved father. They'd even praise him, and if he does it regularly, the kid is a great way to improve his standing with the people! Sure, his reputation won't be flawless, but at least people add, "But he is a good father," to it now.

It's a lot of work, but imagine how good the reception will be once he manages to unite all three—father, mother, child—in certain events, showing up and always carrying his kid around or feeding it despite having sitters and nannies for that! Now everyone sees, is a happy little family, united by a child and deeply in love in the public's eye. People are already speculating about baby number two by the way Leona holds his darling in public, rubbing their belly and whispering into their ear that he got it all under control.

The one thing the public loves more than a dedicated noble is a noble family, after all. And it'll bring them all together again, which is just the cherry on top (;

Bold of you to assume Rook wouldn't snap and try to hunt a lion.

That is interesting!

I can't help but think about how big the betrayal would be that not only Leona's darling wants to escape, but they seek the help of some former, annoying classmate! You could have just tried on your own or continued to try and turn everyone against Leona, but you chose to seek out the one annoying person that you shouldn't have. There are a lot of things Leona can forgive, but Rook helping his love run away is not one of them.

You can be happy if he doesn't kill Rook right in front of your eyes (nearly impossible anyway). Still, if Rook gets caught (he won't), Leona will make sure that he gets locked up for something as bad as attempted regicide, at least! All while you are kept locked up, chained to the bed, with doctors saying it is "necessary" for your "recovery". To the public, Leona will make it look like you were kidnapped and almost died as a consequence. People will be outraged, demanding justice! You are their beloved duchess that would never betray them, right?

This way, he has enough time to punish you for what happened. No one will ask if he leaves bruises and wounds on you, as he can simply explain it as the remnants of your kidnapping. It also allows him to spend time with you undisturbed, as your caring husband simply helps you with your recovery during this difficult time and asks for everyone's understanding that you need this to feel better. The people love you, after all, they'd want him to be with you and fulfill his vows to you.

However, behind closed doors, you'll not be spared all his anger and frustrations. All the things you've been refusing to do with him by avoiding him like the pest. He'll have someone come to implant a tracking device in you so you can never do something as foolish as this again, all while Leona mocks you for your failure and for relying on someone like Rook to help you. Luckily, you can make it up to him—if you suffer as much as you made him suffer with your stupid idea of fleeing.

Still, he stays awake and alert by your side at night. Always making sure no one comes back for you, while also imagining the ways Rook probably touched you to help you over barriers, tracing the spots he suspects the hunter's hands were on you with his hands and lips and even biting them to reclaim them. Leona can't get over the frustration of knowing you were by another man's side, blaming himself for every minute he didn't notice you were gone.

But don't worry. It's a mistake he learned never to repeat, too.

[lonely-milkcarton]

It's so interesting that the audience and even other wrestlers view hangman's current story as one of redemption whilst hangman himself doesn't believe in redemption. It's pretty indicative of his character as a whole.

Rather than viewing his owen win and possible win at all in as a redemption, for him it's simply moving forward after spending the past two years looking back in anger and regret. It's about making the choice to step forward.

In his promo before his texas death match against christopher daniels he reflects that he had to make a choice on the kind of man he was going to be after swerve destroyed his personal life. "And I knew that after a while that I had to make a decision. I could either remain the husk of a man that I was or I could do something about it."

In one of the segments leading up to hangman and ospreay's match hangman remarks on the fact the path of violence & vengeance he chose won him nothing but more pain. "So I had to make a decision. Swerve Strickland. Swerve, I will never forget what you did to me. And I will probably never forgive you for it. But for me, I will have to put it behind me. And when I made that decision, I made the decision to enter the owen hart cup."

Hangman is a man of action for better or for worst, but what I love about hangman he is willing to own up to them, good and bad.

[simplybishova]

city of devils - chapter three

“You sure you’re okay?”

Standing at the counter of Dantoni’s pizza, Kate sees her reflection in the mirror behind the counter - a bruise forming around her nose and bloody tissues shoved up both nostrils. “Never better, Mitch.”

He grimaces as he looks at her again, then sighs, “Pepperoni?”

Kate nods, “light on the sauce, yeah?”

“Right,” he turns and starts to make her pizza as Kate finds a table to sit at. The restaurant is mostly empty, it’s nearly two in the morning. Kate takes off her ruined blazer and balls it up under her seat. Her nose fucking hurts, a lot, and her ego is a little bruised that some tiny girl with a stupid mask and goggles beat the shit out of her, but at least she managed to save Daredevil’s ass.

Now he’ll owe her one and Kate can and will find the perfect opportunity to cash it in.

Her nose isn’t broken, but holy hell it hurts. She pulls the tissues out, not as painted red as the previous ones which is a relief. She picks up the metal napkin dispenser on the table and checks herself a little closer than the messy mirror behind the counter.

She looks…well she looks like shit. Eyeliner smeared, blood on her lips and down her chin, the bruise really is a deep purple and not really her favorite shade of it.

“Here,” she looks over as Mitch holds out a warm rag in her direction. “Pizza’s cooking,” she takes the rag and dabs at her chin.

“Thanks,” she sighs and enjoys the way the cool rag feels on her skin. Mitch and this place are on her route for Fisk, but they’re one of her better clients - always on time with their payments, even adding a little extra from a time Maya and Kate shut down a rival when he went to Fisk directly for help.

It wasn't exactly Kate’s proudest moment, destroying a new business that was just trying to get its footing in a new city - but she is who she is and works for who she works for.

Right now, she’s glad for it as her pizza comes to the table and what little she can smell is amazing.

Kate eats almost all of it, she’s starving and exhausted.

But she did the job, she has the data and already sent it to Kazi who will handle the rest. It’s fine…except it’s not.

Because she knows it’s bad, Fisk can sugarcoat it as ‘knowing the key players’ all he wants but Kate isn’t stupid. He’s sorting out targets. Trying to find who he can put in his pocket and who needs to be removed.

Kate should know, the only reason she’s alive right now is because her mom chose the pocket.

She doesn’t want to go there again, not tonight. She’s just had her ass kicked and her sleep schedule is gonna be fucked so why dig into old wounds.

CONT ON AO3

[vodika-vibes]

The Most Important Date

Summary: Wolffe forgets your first anniversary, and you’re understandably upset about it.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x F!Reader

Word Count: 1542

Warnings: Angst

A/N: So, this doesn't really have a happy ending, more of an open ended ending. I hope you all like it anyway!

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It’s nearly 6 pm, and Wolffe still hasn’t come home.

He swore that he would be here no later than 4:30. But you’ve been waiting for an hour and a half and he’s still not here.

You’re all dressed up in the new dress and heels you bought, specifically, for today. You have a fresh haircut, and you’re wearing the soft perfume that Wolffe loves so much.

But he’s not here.

Well, to be more specific, he’s late.

And you’re starting to wonder if he’s not coming.

Tonight has been in the works for three weeks. And he had been so excited, or, well, you thought he had been excited. He acted excited, at least.

The restaurant had been his suggestion after all. You would have been content with staying home and just spending the evening with him. But he swore that today was something to be celebrated.

He said that your one year anniversary is definitely something that he wants to celebrate, and it’s something he wants to go all out for.

That’s what he said.

But—

He’s not here.

You push a hand through your hair and lift your comm to look at the screen again.

No messages. No missed calls. No anything.

You’re pretty sure he’s not hurt. You know his brothers well enough to know that they’d contact you if he had gotten hurt. And you know that he would have warned you if he got a sudden deployment.

So, with your heart sinking in your chest, you have to conclude that he forgot.

He forgot and he’s not coming.

You drop your comm on your table and rest your chin on your folded arms.

No. No. Wolffe wouldn’t forget. Not about this. Not when it was so important to him, and to you. Traffic on Coruscant is just awful, and his comm is probably dead.

You can wait just a little longer.

30 minutes pass.

Then an hour.

Then two.

And, as the chrono chimes 10 pm, you finally accept that Wolffe isn’t coming for you.

He forgot.

And you spent your first anniversary alone.

The lump in your throat is getting hard to ignore, and you’re losing the battle with the tears threatening to escape from your eyes. And, as you finally push the chair back and pull your new shoes off before you stand to throw them into the back of the closet, you allow the tears to flow.

As you change from the fancy clothes you bought specifically to impress him and into the worn pajamas that you’re more comfortable in, the familiar voice of self-doubt echoes in the back of your mind.

Maybe this is your fault.

Maybe you put too much pressure on him. Maybe you assumed that the relationship was more than he was ready for.

What if he spent your anniversary with another woman? You know you’re not the prettiest or the nicest or the smartest. You know that you have more flaws than you have anything else, anyone would be better than you. You know this, and thought that Wolffe chose you anyway.

You run a comb through your hair, brushing out the gel and hairspray, not able to look at yourself in the mirror.

You thought he chose you in spite of your flaws, but you suppose you were wrong.

You head back to the kitchen long enough to grab your comm and turn out the lights, and you glance at the screen one more time. Hoping against all hope that maybe there’s a message, or an apology, or something from Wolffe.

But there’s nothing there.

You curl your hand around the small device, and head back to your bedroom, feeling as frail as wet paper. You plug in your comm so it’s charge overnight, and for a moment, you consider calling Wolffe. Just to make sure he’s okay.

But, as your finger hovers over his name, you realize you don’t have the courage to press call.

If you call him and he answers and he’s not sorry, you might just shatter into a million pieces and never recover.

So, instead, you just make sure the ringer is on and you set your alarm for 6 the following morning, and you try to fall asleep.

You don’t see Wolffe until after work the next day.

He lets himself into your apartment while you’re standing at the stove making spaghetti sauce.

You still feel paper thin and like you’re heart is on the verge of shattering into pieces, but you greet him quietly as you focus all of your attention on your project. Then, hesitantly, you offer, “I didn’t hear from you much yesterday—”

“Yeah,” Wolffe drops into a seat and rubs his hand down his face, “The battalion went drinking. I didn’t get back to the barracks until 5 this morning.”

You can feel your heart cracking in your chest. “Oh.”

“We even brought some of the natborns along,” He adds, nonchalantly. As if each word wasn’t like a physical blow to your fragile heart, “One of the medics, Andra—you remember her, right? The twi’lek? Well, she nearly drank us all under the table—”

You set your spoon across the top of the pot and lean against the counter, without looking at him.

“And then a bunch of us danced. I think Andra danced with all of us before we went home—”

A helpless, humorless laugh falls from you, “You danced with her?” This is, quite literally, your worst nightmare come to life. He spent your anniversary with another woman.

“Yeah? Come on, cyare. She’s a friend—”

And, all of a sudden, your heartbreak morphs into fury and you slam you hand down on the counter, cutting him off mid sentence. “I want you to leave.” For all that your voice shakes with fury, you don’t raise your voice.

“...what?”

“I want you to leave.” You repeat, your voice still shaking.

“—because I danced with a coworker? That’s not going to happen.”

Another laugh slips from you and you finally spin on your heels to glare up at him, and he falters as he looks at you. His mismatched eyes flickering across your face, lingering on the tears rolling down your face. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“Cyare,” He pauses and then stands to approach you his hands held out to you, “I need you to be clearer, sweets. What’s wrong?”

“Unbelievable,” You bite out, “We spent weeks—weeks, Wolffe—planning yesterday. I spent hundreds of credits on a new outfit. And you,” You jab your finger into his chest, “You decided to go dancing with another woman.”

“Cyar’ika—”

“Do not.” You shake your head, “You spent our anniversary with another woman, Wolffe.”

His face falls, and his gaze finally snaps to the calendar hanging on the wall, “Fuck—Cyare, I—”

“I spent three hours sitting here waiting for you to show up,” You interrupt, as if you can’t see the panic growing on his face, “Do you have any idea how I felt when I realized that you weren’t coming?”

“Cyare, sweetheart—” He reaches out to touch you, but you jerk away from him.

“You don’t get to touch me, Wolffe. Not here. Not now.”

“I’m so sorry. Like, so, so sorry. I have no excuse,” His hands fall uselessly to his side, “You could have called, cyare—”

“You’re blaming me?”

“No! No, just...I would have come, I—”

“I shouldn’t have to call you to remember important events, Wolffe.”

“You’re right.” He agrees, immediately, “You’re right, you shouldn’t. I...there has to be a way for me to make this up to you. Right?”

“Make it up to me? The day’s over Wolffe. You can’t turn back time.”

He stares at you for a moment, “You’re not breaking up with me.” He says it like it’s an order, but there’s a desperation to his words that you can’t ignore.

So you sigh, “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Cyare—”

“I want you to leave. And when I come up with a decision, I’ll let you know.”

“Please don’t—” he pauses, “Don’t leave things like this. I love you. And I know you love me.”

“Relationships require more than love to work, Wolffe.”

He falls silent for a moment, “I’ll go back to the barracks. But, cyare, I’m going to fight for you.”

“If that’s what you want.”

He doesn’t move for a moment, “Will you answer, when I send you messages?”

“I want you to leave me alone, Wolffe.”

“I’m not going to ignore you, cyar’ika. I don’t care how mad you are at me.”

And, once again, you sigh. “Fine, I’ll answer your messages, but I’m not answering calls. And you don’t get to just show up.”

He looks pained, but he agrees. “I know I fucked up, cyare.”

“You did.”

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know, but you did.”

And then Wolffe leaves, but not without a pained look of longing. And you turn your attention back to your dinner while trying to ignore the ache in your heart. Maybe this isn’t the end of your story with Wolffe, but you need time.

He owes you that much, at least.

@heidnspeak

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[yummyrevivalfluid]

A Little Bit Is Never Enough, I Want It All!

Fratboy Ryusui Nanami x GN Reader X Nerd Senku Ishigami

Previous Chapter

Chapter 2: I’m Anxious and Nothing Can Help

Synopsis: Alcohol, weed, and soon-to-be empty promises. What a great way to start your first day in college.

“Why are you even majoring in science?” Ryusui asks in disbelief. He doesn’t understand why you chose something so obscure- a major that doesn’t correlate to the success of your family business. “Why not switch to business like me?” 

“Business majors get clowned on for how easy their major is…” You mutter as you search for a gap in your schedule that aligns with his. “…besides, I’m not a fan of eating crayons.”

“Haven’t even attended my first class and I’m already getting clowned on…” Ryusui mocks being hurt by your joke. He falls dramatically onto your lap, his head resting on your thighs, and snatches his schedule back from you. “…you should try the green crayon, my personal favorite.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” You deadpan. Ryusui sends you a crooked smile, leaving his answer as a mystery.

“Sooooo?” Ryusui sings, his fingers playing with yours. You allow yourself to succumb to the calming effect of his touch. You can feel him spreading your fingers apart, rubbing his thumb against your palm, and even toying with the ring on your finger—his mark on you. “Do I get to see you during my day?”

“… Are you willing to get up at 7 am to see me?” you ask shyly. Ryusui lets out a dramatic groan, flailing his arms. He burrows his face further into your lap, his nose digging into your stomach.

“I guess…anything for you.” He mumbles.

“We can also see each other after our last classes in the afternoon, but depending on whatever frat and club activities you've got going on, we would have to schedule those in advance.”

“Ugh!” Ryusui groans. He doesn’t like the idea of seeing you less; he’s not used to it, and he doesn't want to get used to it. “How much money do I have to pay you to switch majors?”

“You can’t change my mind.” Your voice is weak as you say it. The reality of your misaligned schedules dawns on you. If Ryusui stays committed to waking up early, despite the predicted hangovers you expect him to have and the all-nighters he’ll pull due to his poor planning, even then, your time with him will be limited.

“What about the weekends?” Ryusui asks, and he perks up at his idea. His eyes shimmered brightly at you.

“Weekends work.” The words slip out unconfidently. You’re apprehensive about the idea; you don’t want to get your hopes up. It isn’t that you didn’t account for weekends, but you didn’t plan for them. You know Ryusui better than he knows himself, and you know he’ll likely find himself partying on the weekends. And then there’s you, doing the opposite of what Ryusui does.  You’ll likely spend your time studying.

“Are you scared…” He asks in a solemn tone, his usual playful tone is gone.

“Of what?” you ask. You were scared of many things, Ryusui being the root of many. But that was something you could never tell him, you don’t want another weight for him to feel burdened with. You don’t think you’ll ever tell him of the fear of losing him.

You have a vague sense of what he’s asking about, but you’ll never know for sure. He remains silent, and so do you. His gaze is vulnerable; it’s unusual for him. Loud, rambunctious, prideful, and greedy, those were the words you’ll use to describe him. Not vulnerable.

He’s staring at you softly, despite his furrowed brows. You can feel your heart quicken. He’s searching for something in your expression. You don’t know what. You want to escape, but you can’t. He’s still resting on your lap, but you can feel him shifting. The position he puts himself in is awkward; it looks uncomfortable, but even so, it has you leaning back, shifting your weight on your arms. He’s leaning closer to you, and you don’t know how much further you can lean back before you're flat on your back with him hovering over you. You’ve always been close with him, but this felt different. It’s as if he’s trying to tell you something without needing words.

“UGH!” A voice shouts, disgusted. “It’s fucking move in day and y’all already fucking!”

It’s almost comical how you send Ryusui flying off the twin bed and onto the floor.

“NO IT’S NOT LIKE THAT!” You’re frantically waving your hands around. You wanted to make a good impression on your dorm room partner, but your luck is sparse. “He’s just a friend!”

Ryusui doesn’t know what stings more. The sharp sting of the floor pressed against his face, or your choice of words.

Just a friend…

“Coffee?”

At the sound of his voice, you snap your attention towards Ryusui. You’ve been waiting for him for the past few minutes, watching other students walk around campus.  The morning autumn air wasn’t freezing, but it sure wasn’t warm. You watch as he takes the open seat beside you on the bench. He shoves the cup of coffee in your direction, his fingers brushing against yours as you take the cup from his hands.

“Thank you.” The warmth of the cup warms your freezing hands. You take a sip of the drink, and the taste is bitter. With your nerves, you can feel the caffeine further fueling the rapid beating of your heart. You take small sips from it, not having the stomach to drink it all, not when you’re filled with a sick feeling of dread.

“Don’t like it?” he asks, gulping down the last bit of his coffee.

“No, it’s not that…” Your voice is wavering. “It just feels like my heart is going to jump out of my chest.”

“Nervous?” His voice is groggy. You can see him trying to blink away the sleep in his eyes. You nod your head up and down at his question, “I have to get used to seeing less of your greedy face.”

“Don’t get too used to it.” His voice is low and raspy, unhappy at the thought of seeing you less. His shoulder brushes against you, his gaze concentrated on the rising sun. You hear him yawn before he shifts beside you on the bench, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Sleepy?” you ask, trying to push down the feeling of guilt that keeps arising. 

“Just need more coffee…” he mumbles. You can feel his fingers finding yours, gently prying the cup from your hands. He pulls away from you, raising the cup to his lips and taking a sip right where your lips were seconds prior.

You watch as he downs the cup of coffee- a small amount escapes from his lips and trails down the side of his mouth. Instinctively, after years of being friends, you reach out with your thumb and wipe away the droplet. An action that never felt intimate until now. His hand grips your wrist, moving your thumb toward his lips. You don’t understand the sensation that runs through you at the feeling of his tongue licking the trace of coffee.

“Down to the very last drop.” He mutters against your fingertips.

“You need more sleep.” You scold him, yanking your hand away from his hold. You turn away in a futile attempt to hide the blush creeping onto your skin.

“Nah! If I sleep, that means less time with you! I won’t have it!” The grogginess in his voice is fading, slowly revealing the obnoxiously loud tone. “How much time until your first class?”

You glance down at your phone.

7:45 am.

“I should be heading out now…it’s like a ten-minute walk.”

“Switch majors! Name your price!” Ryusui tries to persuade you once again- a poor attempt to keep you by his side. Unsurprisingly, you decline his offer once again.

It feels weird to leave him. Even stranger not to have his hand holding yours. But it was something you had to get used to for the next few months until the next semester comes peeking around the corner. Maybe then you’ll be fortunate enough to see Ryusui more.

You’re not even inside the room, and your first class is already a nightmare. Your heart is pounding rapidly as you near the room that you believe is the one you're searching for. It’s hard to tell when there’s a badly formed line surrounding the entrance of the auditorium. You’re trying to find a spot to stand without getting in the way of others.

You feel out of place. Your eyes dart around the hall, and it feels like everyone already knows each other. And for the few that stand alone, it doesn’t look like they are open to talking to others, with earbuds covering their ears and their face burrowed in their phone. Nervously, you glance down at your phone, anxiously waiting for the doors to let you in.

You feel like throwing up.

7:59 AM

The moment the doors open, there's a stampede. You don’t have a choice; you feel yourself shoved against the other students as they rush to the room. Your first class is general chemistry, a course many majors tend to have as a prerequisite, explaining the need for an auditorium-sized classroom. You don’t have time to think when you’re still being pushed forward. You take the first open seat you see.

Not even 15 minutes can pass before you think about Ryusui. If he were here, you would not doubt that he would be pushing his way to be the first to enter the room—the first to claim the seat in the auditorium that he insists is the best. Ryusui was a man with no shame, claiming whatever he wanted. But you weren’t him. With your luck, you got a seat near the back of a ridiculously large auditorium.

The words on the projector are blurry due to the professor's poor choice of font size. Even if you tried to follow along with his lecture, you could barely hear it. You physically cringe when their microphone gives off weird feedback.

The rest of your classes followed the same pattern. It felt as if everyone was pushing and tossing you around. After three back-to-back classes, you finally have a moment of peace—a chance to collect your thoughts. You’re scrolling through the spam of text notifications Ryusui sent you while you were in your classes. Various selfies of him in his classes. The most notable was the most recent one he sent. It’s him posing with a green crayon between his teeth, captioned:

              ‘Got invited to a party tonight? You in?’

It’s okay to say no—you remind yourself. Ryusui wouldn’t pressure you into doing anything you didn’t want to, but a pessimistic thought lingers.

What if this was the start of your friendship drifting apart?

Your mind won’t stop thinking you'll lose him. What if this is the last chance to hold onto him? The last time you’ll be at his side? You text back.

              ‘Sure’

If there was an opportunity to have his hand in yours for a while longer, even for a day more, you were going to take it. Maybe you just needed to put yourself out there more. Perhaps you’ll surprise yourself and end up being a partygoer….

Or maybe not….-You think to yourself.

You don’t know how you got separated from Ryusui. One second, you were entering the party with Ryusui’s hand in yours, and the next, you’re in a corner by yourself with a cat on your lap. You don’t even know where the cat came from- maybe it sensed your distress.  

I look like a loser-You think to yourself.

The house is packed with bodies pressing against each other - surely there must be some maximum capacity, not that you knew what it was, but you were sure the limit had been passed. The music is turned up so loud that you have a feeling that you are going to leave with some form of tinnitus. It didn’t help that the music was like a domino effect for even more noise. Blasting loudly, causing others to shout to each other to carry on their conversation.

Slowly but surely, everything begins to overstimulate you—the blaring music. The smell of alcohol mixed with what you assume is weed and cotton candy flavor vape overwhelms your nose. Your insecure thoughts are plaguing your mind…

You glance down at your phone, hoping that Ryusui has finally had a chance to check his phone and see the messages you sent him nearly twenty minutes ago.

              Ryusui, I lost you! - 12:08 a.m.

              Where are you?- 12:43 a.m

              I think I’m going to head out- 12:58 am.

You stand up from your small corner, apologizing profusely to the cat that is now glaring at you. You push past the crowd, being pushed or knocked over by others, just like you were hours earlier. You frantically look around for Ryusui, coughing when a puff of smoke blows into your face.

It’s a miracle that, despite the noise, you can hear a chorus of Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! It’s light, yet it catches your attention. You walk to the front yard toward the chants and see a crowd gathering around someone. There’s no doubt in your mind that it’s Ryusui — he always has a knack for grabbing attention.

From what little you can see from the back of the crowd, you notice him in the center, surrounded by strangers holding onto his arms, and another person pouring an alarmingly large amount of alcohol down a tube that goes straight to Ryusui’s mouth. More alcohol is pouring down the side of his mouth than into it.

“I want more!” Ryusui shouts as the last drop of alcohol touches his tongue. He removes his alcohol-soaked shirt and throws it into the crowd, shouting, “Give me more!”

His shouts are met with even louder chanting from the crowd: 'Give him more!' Give him more! Give him more!

You see glimpses of his face, but there was no denying it- Ryusui was thriving.

The walk back to your dorm is depressing. You try to console yourself, rubbing the ring on your finger as you try to stop the negative thoughts from consuming you, but you can’t. It’s acting as a cruel reminder of a promise that isn’t being kept.

You know that Ryusui would never entirely leave you, not when your families are business partners, but you were losing the Ryusui that you grew up with. It was clear to you, even if it isn’t for him, that you’ve outgrown each other. You may stay as friends, but nothing would be the same. He’s found his crowd that fits the new him better than you could.

I would only hold him back…

You didn’t realize you were crying until a voice behind you startled you.

“Are you okay?” His voice is raspy, matching the tired look on his face. There's a frown on his lips, but you can see the concern in his eyes, that flicker from you to the sidewalk. He walks toward you as if you were an unstable bomb, ready to detonate on him if he makes a wrong move.

You pull away from his gaze and wipe the tears from your eyes. Your throat feels raw from the tears you didn’t realize you were holding back but couldn’t stop. “I’m fine…”

“Nobody cries because they're fine.” He digs into the plastic bag that he’s holding in his hand. He rummages through cans of energy drinks to pull out the singular bottle of water he purchased at the gas station. He hands you the water and asks, “You’re heading back to the dorms, right?”  

“Why do you ask?” you ask, suspicious of his intentions. He looks at you with an unimpressed look, almost as if he is offended by the implications of your question.

“That’s where I’m heading. Figured you wouldn’t want to walk alone.” He turns his back towards you, waits for a second, almost as if he's waiting for you to make up your mind. You take a step beside him, and he takes it as a sign to start walking again. There’s a moment of silence as you walk beside him, until he speaks again. “What is it that you’re missing?”

The question catches you off guard, leaving you unsure where it came from or how to respond. You look at him with a puzzled expression, which he responds to with a deep sigh.

“Just speculation, but I’m guessing this is your first year in college?”

“Yeah…”

“College life can be an adjustment for people," he explains as he looks up to the sky. “Some miss their home, miss their family and friends, miss the normalcy of their lives, and others just feel a piece of themselves missing. Lost and wandering in space. Which is it?”

Your mind goes back to Ryusui. You didn’t think it was possible to miss someone who is still close to you- someone walking the same campus as you, but it is. You miss the normalcy of the life you had with him, but now that you’re alone, walking with a stranger, you feel like maybe you are missing a piece of yourself. But you weren’t going to trauma dump to someone you don’t even know.

“I don’t know.” You lie, rubbing at the ring on your finger. He looks at you as if trying to dissect you, but doesn’t say what first came to his mind.

“Well, figure it out. The sooner you do, the better you’ll succeed.”

Before you can continue the conversation, you notice that you’ve reached the dorm buildings. You stop, and he notices, he looks at the building you’re looking at, and lets out a drawn-out whistle. The building your dorm was located in was the most expensive and luxurious, with rumors suggesting that the dorm fees you pay are more than the tuition itself.

“Treasure Dorms…you got money.” He comments. “I should’ve charged you for the water.” He jokes, but notices you reaching for your wallet. He waves off the cash you try to hand him and turns his back to you to continue his walk back to his dorm.

“I won’t charge you this time, but if I see you walking alone in the middle of the night again, I will.”

“Thank you-?” you draw out the last syllable in the word, hoping the stranger would get the hint to tell you his name.

“Senku.”

“Thank you, Senku.”

TAGS: @rebeccawinters @rhemiar @anajellyc @rinchanisasimp

A/n: I was initially going to have this chapter as the titrations chapter, but I started to build up more of the angst and felt like the titrations scene needed its own chapter...

Next Chapter (WIP): The Perfect Titration with a 1B% Error

Sneak Peek: Senku and you cross paths again, but under different circumstances. Your luck is just as bad as Senku's when your lab group ends up having to redo the lab five times, and one of them started a small fire that nobody but Senku noticed.

[miraculous-ninjabird]

Thinking about how Feng Xin, Xie Lian, and Mu Qing all betrayed each other in their own ways following the fall of Xianle.

We are all familiar with the retainer's failures during this time.

Feng Xin's betrayal stems directly from his departure. It may have ultimately been the best choice from him but the fact remains that he made a vow to stay and he didn't. Even it it was Xie Lian who ultimately told him to leave, it's obvious he never believed he actually would, and Feng Xin has carried guilt over this ever since. Being the correct choice for him personally does not change how hurt Xie Lian is by the fact the one person he thought would stay didn't.

Mu Qing, on the other hand, did not betray anyone when he left. He made no such vow to stand by Xie Lian's side and thus it wasn't a betrayal for him to chose to leave in order to prioritize his mother. His betrayal entirely stems from the events that took place on the mountain. Xie Lian was going through the worst time of his life, just trying to get by, and ended up getting ganged up on by gods. Mu Qing saw this and did nothing out of fear of the retribution he might face from the other heavenly officials. His later assistance comes too little too late for Xie Lian who is hurt by being turned on by someone who he saw as a friend.

I see less talk about how Xie Lian isn't an innocent victim in this fallout either. His on form of betrayal comes in the form of his own short sightedness. He's so caught up in how the situation affects him specifically that he doesn't give much care for the others who are supporting him. He fails to recognize that Mu Qing and Feng Xin have lost all the same things he has-their home, their godhood, and their dignity. He sees them as friends, yes, but he still somewhat expects them to stay and act as his retainers even when doing so is ultimately harmful to their relationship. He is difficult to interact with, pushes them away, and gets irrationally upset when they don't live up to the idea of what he thinks they should be. He lies and retreats in on himself when he should be more open and trusting than ever because he just can't let go of the idea of being above the perceived expectations of what he should be. He betrays them by refusing to see.

The tragedy of it all is that you cannot blame any of them for the tragedy of this. They all made poor decisions in the depths of the darkest time of their lives that could be justified from their own viewpoints. It breeds empathy.

Xie Lian being to horrifically distraught after everything to function is an understandable reaction. Mu Qing refusing to assist Xie Lian because he can't risk his new position and the ability to assist it provides is an understandable reaction. Feng Xin leaving when told to go because while he is loyal, he can't bear to watch as Xie Lian continues to tear himself apart is understandable.

Tragic, yet inevitable. I like the way the story doesn't just forever sperate them due to resentment, but I also like how that everything isn't just magically better once they get a chance to talk it out. Mistakes were made, harm was caused, and there is no fixing that but there is moving forward and I really really love that message.

[aosawako]

Answer

“Feelings that come back

Are feelings that never left.”

Tobio Kageyama

Tobio Kageyama asked you to be his girlfriend in your 3rd year of middle school. It was the most he’d ever let someone in at the time. At the time, he was completely focused on volleyball and unable to let you completely in.

That didn’t mean you didn’t try. You managed to make him more comfortable with you, but you couldn’t change his mindset.

It was sweet at times, other times not so much. You understood him in a way no one else did. Understood why he never depended on anyone and chose to do it himself instead. Though, his independence in volleyball appeared in your relationship with him. Tobio insisted on not telling you anything, not communicating because he believed he didn’t need to.

He believed he could do it himself, forever and always. It started frustrating you, though you never admitted it. Instead, you tried to lightly encourage him to depend on you. At least a little. But he didn’t.

There was only so much a person could take before it became too much. Kageyama would push you away and then it would repeat. All it took was a bad game, someone else acting up, a slight mistake in his game.

Tobio would try, he really did. Though he couldn’t change because of the people around him. They just kept disappointing him over and over. Which lead to him being frustrated around you, shutting you out in the process.

That led to what happened a year ago. You told him how you felt, and he couldn’t answer you. Tobio just stared at you, he wanted to say something but he didn’t know what.

He wasn’t like you, comforting and good with words. You knew what to say to him, how to ease him even at the worst moments. He wasn’t anything like you, he couldn’t give you anything more than an, “Okay.”

It was nearing the end of the school year, a few months before summer. You had told him you wanted him to feel like he could open up with you. That you understood why he didn’t but it tired you how he wouldn’t attempt to communicate, just shut you out.

“I really do like you , Tobio.” You had sighed softly, preparing yourself. “And I’ll be rooting for you, in every way imaginable. Maybe right now isn’t the time for us, and maybe we’ll have a better chance in the future.”

Tobio Kageyama thought about that moment often. More frequently than he liked to admit. He saw you around at Karasuno, staring as you passed.

He thought about what you meant, a better chance in the future? Was his time up yet, or could he still make it?

Kageyama had changed, his team taught him more than he thought they would. He could depend on them, he wasn’t alone on the court anymore. The team irritated him but it was different this time. More for stupid reasons over anything.

Now, all he was missing was…you. He thought he lost feelings for you, but all he did was gain them back. He had grown, and you weren't there. You didn't see the fact he had changed. Tobio wasn't going to avoid communication with you, nor try not to depend on you.

So did you mean it? Would there be a chance to make it right this time?

Sugawara was the first person he asked. Kôshi supported the idea, only if Tobio was ready to be the person for you. He saw the progress and growth in him over the school year.

Then Kageyama asked Hinata before sending the message. If he really should do it, if you would even respond.

Hinata was excited for his friend, saying that if you said you really did like him, you would love him now. He encouraged him to send the message because even if it did go wrong, it's better to fail knowing you tried rather than fail not knowing if it could've worked.

You were walking home from school, chewing at your gum, headphones blasting. The music was cut off by a message being read.

‘From Tobio: I miss you.’

Then your music started up again, and you let it. Not checking your phone once as you walked, millions of thoughts running in your mind.

As soon as you got home you opened it, you saw exactly what you heard. You pondered for a moment, what to say. You had noticed his changes, they were subtle. But he had grown more from who he was.

He was in practice when you had responded. So as soon as it was over, he checked his phone. Relief filled him when he saw your name, a simple message followed but it was exactly what he needed. You reciprocated, you missed him too.

(Click photo if blurry)

His message surprised you to say the least. He was almost outside? The two of you didn't live necessarily far from each other, however it would take some time to get to your house. Was he already heading there before he sent you that?

That didn’t really matter at the moment. You quickly got yourself ready, whatever that meant. After a few minutes, you grabbed a pair of shoes. Putting them on before stepping out.

It was already dark out, but you could still spot him. He was standing in front of your house near the sidewalk. The door clicked close after you pushed it into place.

Kageyama looked back to see you, taking his hands out of his pockets. Rubbing them on his sides, was he nervous?

You approached him, walking down to the street. You were going to say something first but he beat you to it.

The top of his head was visible when he gave you a short bow, “Thank you for coming.”

“Well, I just came out of my house. I should thank you. You ran all this way didn’t you?”

Tobio stared at you, lips parting. “I did but it was nothing.” His head perked when he heard you laugh at him, he missed that.

“Thank you..Tobio. I can still call you that right?” He nodded. It was still new to him, but it was welcomed. His eyes stayed on you, he hadn’t been able to get a good look at you in a while.

“What I told you, I meant it. I do miss you and want to get back together.” Kageyama stumbled on his last words, but you could still see he was attempting to be better for you. “I promise you’ll be a priority and I’ll do my best to communicate. I won’t let you down.”

You smiled, he was so serious about it. He only really ever said something if he meant it. The silence sat for a moment, “Then..I trust you keep your promise. You’ve never let me down before so there really isn’t a need to say-“

Kageyama didn’t mean to cut you off but he couldn't wait. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He stared at you like you created volleyball itself. His ears were pink, followed by his face dusted with blush.

“Yes, I will.” You didn’t hesitate when you said it. Tobio really liked that, more than he would want to admit. You saw him bolt to the corner of the street, you were about to follow. Then he ran back, gently pushing flowers into your hands.

“I hope you like them, thank you again.” He watched you touch the flowers. His hands shoved back into his pockets, they were so sweaty. He didn't want you to see that.

“Thank you Tobio. That’s so sweet, you really didn't have to. Did you keep them over there in case I said no?” He looked away from you sheepishly.

“Maybe.” He looked back feeling your arms wrap around him. His face was so red, he was happy he didn't have any of his teammates around. Especially now that he was hugging you back, yeah. It was better that they weren't there.

Bonus ౨ৎ

Kageyama laid in bed, just about to fall asleep. His phone flashed back on, making him grab it begrudgingly. It was Sugawara.

Practice does pay off.

[maxdibert]

It’s been a minute since i read the books but didn’t the Marauders used illegal spells on their victims, there’s the guy that almost died because they increased or inflated his head too much. The only difference between illegal and unforgivable that I can think is that illegal has a way to be reversed, which doesn’t make it better! The marauders still used nasty magic to bully people but the double standards and their fan’s hypocrisy are never ending

And so is their illiteracy

The whole point of SWM is to set the tone for the seven years we didn’t see. It’s not a matter of perception or Snape’s biased pov. That’s exactly what the marauders were, why their fans never stop to think that if the assault was an isolated incident then the crowd would be in shock, or Lily would be surprised by James asking-bribing her to go out with him?

I mean, as if Rowling hadn’t made it crystal fucking clear that the Marauders were bullies. And not just because of what they did to Severus —which is already bad enough— but because Remus and Sirius themselves tell Harry straight up that James used to hex people in the hallways just because he felt like it. Like it was a casual hobby or something. And then, on top of that, we have official records —not biased memories, not Snape’s “perception”— actual school records stating that Sirius and James used an illegal spell on a guy called Bertrand Aubrey. Illegal. Not “questionable,” not “borderline,” not “a cheeky prank.” Fucking illegal. And if it’s illegal, it’s because it’s dangerous as hell. But of course, since they were the golden boys, the pretty ones, the teacher’s pets, they got away with everything. Always.

And the worst part? It’s the same goddamn pattern every time: two against one. Always ganging up. Always with numbers. Always with power. They knew nothing would happen to them, that no one would hold them accountable, so they just did whatever the hell they wanted. And still, even with all that evidence, people are out here saying it’s just “Snape’s biased perspective”? Are you kidding me? So what, Filch was sharing Snape’s hallucinations? Sirius and Remus just made it all up too? The school records were forged during one of Snape’s PTSD episodes? Come on. They just can’t handle the fact that the romanticized image they built around the Marauders falls apart when you actually read the damn books.

Honestly, these people either haven’t read anything properly or they’re so used to being spoon-fed by YA novels written like the audience has the cognitive level of a toddler that they can’t handle any subtlety in storytelling. It’s the literary version of the Nolan Syndrome: unless you explain something 40 times with dramatic music and a slow zoom, they just don’t get it. They don’t know how to read between the lines, they miss the tone, they completely overlook the fact that Harry’s horror when he watches that memory is the emotional core of that entire scene. They can’t seem to grasp that Rowling chose that specific moment not because it was an outlier, but because it was the norm. That wasn’t a “bad day.” That was the usual shit Snape had to endure. It was systemic.

So no, it’s not “in Snape’s head.” It’s on the damn page. It’s in the words of the very characters you worship. It’s in the school’s official records. It’s in Harry’s reaction. It’s embedded in the very structure of the narrative. But no, they can’t accept it. It kills them to admit their faves were the aggressors. That their beloved Marauders were entitled little bastards with way too much impunity and absolutely no self-awareness. But hey, if you need gifs and bullet points to understand basic storytelling, maybe the problem isn’t Snape. Maybe you just don’t know how to read.

[peachiejeongin]

Hello honey! Thank you for blessing us with your wonderful writing! You are the best!

Been in a bit crappy this week and a comforting channie fic where he gives all the cuddles and spoils the reader is definitely needed. So could I request a bang chan fic where the reader is feeling low but doesn't say anything but chan notices and without any confronting or questioning just takes the day to wrap his girlfriend up and just hold her tight and waits on her all day with cuddles, tea and chocolate to make her feel as loved as comforted as possible and the next few days when she finally perks up he SPOILS her even more so (because let's be honestly chan would ruin you all the time with surprises and gifts etc) like you turn up to work and have a massive delivery of your favourite flowers and come home to millions of candles and a bath running and a brand new pair of expensive gift wrapped silk pjs on the bed etc and of course more cuddles from channie ❤️

Wrap You in My Arms (and Everything Else Too) | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Established Relationship Warnings: Mentioned of stress Notice: Hello, my love! Thank you so much for your request!! I am so sorry you had a rough week :( I hope this story can cheer you up! I am such a sucker for Chan cuddle/comfort fics, so please enjoy! word count: 1.2K

Life was too much.

Anything that could go wrong this week, went wrong.

From little mistakes at work that you would never make under normal circumstances, to family drama, and even quarrels between friends that you found yourself in the middle of, life would not stop when you so desperately needed to.

The worst part was you had not said anything about it.

You were too afraid to do so.

Afraid that bringing it up to anyone would be a hindrance to them, or that it would overwhelm you as every event of the week would implant itself back onto your brain.

Thus, you stayed silent. Unusually silent.

And Chan noticed.

He noticed when the smile you gave him in the morning was half-assed. He noticed when you skipped your morning coffee, choosing to instead indulge in the tiredness you were swiftly becoming accustomed to. Most importantly, he noticed how you chose to spend most of your off-days curled up in your bed or on the couch, lost in some video on your phone or sleeping the day away.

This was not you.

And he knew that.

He always knew that.

Thus, he made it his mission to make you feel better.

The first night of his plan, he found you on the couch, once again, curled up into a ball as you focused too intently on the television. He took matters into his own hands, curling up beside you and wrapping you tightly in his arms.

“Channie?” you mumbled, voice worn from exhaustion.

“Shh,” he hushed gently, holding you close to his chest. “Just let me take care of you, baby.”

You nodded into his shoulder, circling your arms around his waist tightly, and melting away all of your worries into the snuggle.

There were no questions.

No protest.

Just you and Channie, wrapped up in each other.

The next few days continued like this.

You started and ended your days with a nice, long cuddle from Bang Chan. In the mornings he had to leave early for practice and could not snuggle you, he would leave you a mug filled with your favorite kind of tea. Similarly, at the end of the night when you came home from work and he was not able to be there, your favorite chocolates would be on your nightstand, along with dinner already cooked or ordered on the kitchen table. In all instances, a handwritten note would lay right next to the affectionate gift with a loving message.

“I love you so much, baby!”

“You’re so strong! Take on today!”

“You’ve got this, love!”

For the first time in days, you felt a smile on your lips whenever you read his notes, whenever you ate dinner, or whenever you would be tightly content in his arms.

On the days and nights Chan was present, you were even more spoiled, if that was possible.

He would practically wait on you hand on foot, catering to your every need and want. You had errands to run? He would run them for you, and he would pick you up a gift on the way home. You wanted takeout? He was getting you takeout. You wanted to sleep in all day? He was right beside you, basically as your human pillow.

Throughout the day, lighthearted giggles would be shared, half-serious pick-up lines would be cracked to make you smile, and kisses would be brushed against your forehead when Chan thought you had dozed off.

When you would crawl into bed at night, wrapped comfortably in his hoodie and still lightly sipping on your tea, Chan would pull you right back into his arms, rubbing your back gently as he soothed your stress of the day.

“I love you so much,” he would whisper into your ear. “Please never forget that.”

Then the next few days came, and something shifted.

You were smiling again, heartedly laughing at Chan’s cheesy jokes, and drinking your morning coffee like it was a lifesafer.

You were back, and though he never directly mentioned it, you could see in Chan’s eyes that he was relieved, proud to have his baby back.

And in typical Chan fashion, he did not just notice your returning glow.

He celebrated it.

For instance, that Thursday morning as you showed up to work, a large, blooming bouquet of flowers was placed right beside your desk, almost making you trip over them. A note came with it:

“I’m so proud of you baby. Your smile is blooming again <3 - Chris”

Your face was still flushed when you walked through the door that night, smiling ear to ear as you brought in the lovely bouquets of flowers and set them all over the tables around the house.

Well, tried to, at least.

Every table you attempted to set the flowers on had a candle upon it, making the apartment smell of cinnamon and spice. The candles led to the bathroom, some in the corners of the hallway; you settled for setting the flowers in an empty spot on the floor, figuring to worry about it later.

You followed the path of candles, directly to the bathroom. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw Chan standing in the doorway.

“Hey, beautiful,” Chan greeted softly.

“What have you done?” you asked in a tone that was a mix of cheeky and adoration.

“My way of making your hard week a little better,” he explained, looping his arms around your waist.

“Chan, you have already made this week so much better,” you lightly told him. “What more could you possibly do?”

“Hm, not much I guess,” he faux shrugged. “Just, y’know, this.”

He stepped out of the way and revealed the sight of the bathroom to you: a warm bath was running, the scent of lavender soap filling the air, rose petals adorning the water, with a snack tray set just to the edge of the bath with a glass of chilled water and a book you had mentioned wanting to read weeks ago.

You turned to Chan, eyes glassy in awe.

“Channie,” you whispered.

He just kissed your forehead.

“Enjoy, baby,” he whispered. “And by the way…” He took your hand, leading you to your shared bedroom just nearby and flicking on the slight.

“You’ve got these to change into when you’re done,” he said, handing you a shopping bag. You took it, giving Chan a brief, ‘what on earth did you buy me’ look. As you took out the tissue paper in the bag, you nearly gasped.

A pair of beautiful, silk pajamas lay in the bag, neatly folded in your favorite color.

“You—” You could not speak, mouth agape. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Well, if spoiling my baby during a hard week is unbelievable then so be it,” he responded with a giggle. 

You sat the bag down on the bed, coming closer to Chan and hugging him tightly.

“Thank you,” you softly said. “You have turned an awful week into something amazing.”

“Don’t thank me,” Chan replied, tightly hugging you back. “It’s my job to make you feel better.”

He pulled away just enough to kiss your lips, soft, gentle, and passionate.

“Now,” he continued. “Get to your bath before the tub overflows.”

You laughed, immediately doing as you were told.

After your long, relaxing soak with a good book and good snacks, as you lay in Chan’s arms, wrapped in the silk pajamas, eyes fluttering shut, your mind could finally rest, knowing Chan was your safety net ready to catch you when you fell in life.

And you were so, so lucky to have your safety net.

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