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apprenticestanheight · 1 year ago

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Good News - Chainshipping

Ooooookay!! This was born of an idea I had m o n t h s ago but then I tried to write it (I feel like it's one of the chainshipping fics I have here but I can't remember) and it went in a different direction and, as I usually tend to do, I gave it as close to a happy ending as I was willing and able.

This, however? nah. I haven't cried for a serious reason (this is very serious to me!!) in a good bit so. here we have this. To the anon who sent in a req for heavy chainshipping angst, the concept of this fic was brought back around into the handy dandy mental space because of you and I hope you like it!

Title was riffed from the song Good News by Julien Baker, by which this fic is not directly inspired (I listened to it while writing this fic,, at least the start) but might have a similar vibe to.

Fic type - this is straight out angst with maybe a cathartic and kind of hopeful end?? idk but I know that it's all angst until the last scene and even then, the angst is still present there.

Warnings - mentions of drugs and drug use (morphine is mentioned once in a hospital setting and weed is mentioned a lot), addiction is referenced (both in Gabrielas case and also in Adam talking about being borderline addicted to his pain meds and his weed dependency not being a dependency but more an addiction), and this is fairly time-jumpy bc every scene takes place at a slightly different time than the last, which is clarified! The second half is probably not that great in terms of proofreading and editing, this one is hot off the press (I finished it, went to type up the authors note, and rushed to post bc I want this out of my brain) and might not be super good bc I don't doubt that I've missed a few things.

The first thing that Adam registers when he wakes up is a white-hot, raging pain that starts in his shoulder and manages to radiate down his arm til it reaches the nerve endings in his fingers. The second thing he registers is the feeling of someones hand, holding tightly onto one of his own--not the one that's in pain, thank fuck--and the sound of their breathing, somehow both quick and laboured at the same time.

The third thing he registers is a tube shoved down his throat. The second he registers that, the anxiety sets in. He forces his hand out of the grasp of the person who's holding onto it and tries to grab at the tube like his life depends on it, because for a second, he feels like it does.

"Adam," a voice whispers. He blinks his eyes open, turns in the direction of the voice, but it takes a few seconds for the image to blur into focus. "Adam--it's a breathing tube, keeping your lungs from collapsing. Relax, honey."

He stills when he realizes who it is. It's his mother, who he hasn't seen in almost a decade.

He glares at her for a second, but then he hears the resoundingly soft click! of a button, and five minutes later, a glorious-adjacent high sets in. Adam figures out as the haze takes him over that a morphine button is somewhere near his bed, is grateful for it despite the lingering confusion.

"Rest up," she says. "I'll be here until you fall asleep, okay? And I promise not to bug you after. I just heard you'd been found and I needed to see that for myself."

Adam lets sleep take him over--he's pretty much confined to his bed, and while he hates it, he knows he has no other choice, really, and the exhaustion creeps up on him before he can even register it.

A few long weeks go by, and by the time he's discharged from the hospital and complete with the necessary physical therapy to rehabilitate his arm and make sure his shoulder is working right, it's the very beginning of December.

Part of him wonders where Lawrence is--did he make it out? Was cutting his foot off worth it in the end? They're things he wonders about late at night, when the insomnia takes over and he resists the urge to climb out onto his fire escape and smoke as many joints as he can in order to sleep without fucking up his liver.

He doesn't go to therapy right out the gate, doesn't even think to do it for those first few weeks, when his doctor is checking in on him every single morning when their shift starts and every evening when it ends, when a psychiatrist comes in once every few days and tries to help him process the memories that he'd taken to vehemently avoiding.

But then, on the walk home from one of Scotts concerts, he sees an ad posting for a Jigsaw support group. It's the next day, runs from seven to nine, and the church basement it's held in is only five minutes down the road from his apartment.

He decides he'll go, part of him gunning for the mere thought of seeing Lawrence--a Jigsaw support group would be exactly the kind of place Lawrence would go after experiencing something so traumatic as the goings on of that bathroom. It's the one surefire spot Adam is betting on, but he tries to stop himself.

He doesn't know what's happened to Lawrence, not really. Lawrence hasn't reached out and Adam has made no effort to do the same for fear of rejection. He figures he could ask around at the support group, holds onto the off chance that someone there knows him or at least knows what happened, somehow.

As he gets undressed, opting to wear a pair of sweatpants and a basic black shirt, he knows that he, realistically, has no valid reason to speculate on the state of Lawrences well being, if there even is a well being upon which to speculate. If he wants to hear from Lawrence--which he does, more than anything--then he can do either of two things. He can wait for Lawrence to reach out, or he can try to do it himself.

He goes to sleep, telling himself he'll look through the phone book before he goes to work tomorrow.

Looking through the phone book doesn't yield much--it yields a number with a voicemail that hasn't been updated since the mid-nineties, at least, which is enough to make him laugh depressedly because mid-nineties Lawrence is not the Lawrence he knew, but the one that had existed about five years beforehand.

The support group meeting is, surprisingly, decent. He sits, for two hours, in a room full of people who understand what he's gone through. He shares his own story for the first time, breathes himself through the roughened edges and the sharp points that threaten to stab him in the chest when he thinks about it.

Talking about it, he realizes, is good for him, like the psychiatrist had said it might turn out to be. He goes home feeling the full weight of that day, which is something that he hates more than he hates himself, but he also feels a little vindicated.

The next two meetings go like that as well--Adam talks, warms up a bit slower than butter left on the counter to thaw after having spent many-a-week at the bottom of a large-capacity freezer.

At the end of December, the day after Christmas, it's the groups last meeting of the year and the first with a newcomer since Adam came along at the beginning of the month.

The newbie sits next to him, and he doesn't really bother to notice them, figures he'll pay more attention when they speak a little bit and focuses instead on sipping his coffee, focuses loosely on the delight he feels at the thought of the support groups carrot muffins that they bring out for people to eat at around 8:30, at which point the group kind of disperses to talk amongst themselves.

The instructor is a guy named Paul, and he's 35 and balding. He claims to be one of Jigsaws first survivors, having been tested around '99. Adam doesn't really believe it--Jigsaws first recorded victim would've been around early 2000, if a little bit later into that year, but he digresses. If someone or multiple someones want to pretend to be his victims, Jigsaw and his followers will take matters into their own hands eventually, be it in the name of revenge or some twisted kind of retribution.

He notices the newbie, and like he did when Adam was new, he singles her out in a way that she probably won't realize was him doing so until later, just like Adam had that first meeting.

"My name is Gabriela," she says. "I'm from Mexico. I came to New Jersey to get away from my life there--I couldn't take it."

The admission makes Paul smile softly, nod like he understands even though Adam knows, from his New Yorkian accent, that it's the farthest he's travelled between there and Jersey.

"And we're all here to support you through your troubles," he says. "Why were you tested?"

"I'd rather not--" Gabriela pauses. Adam looks at her, studies her, and sees a few scars lining her face. "I was cruel to him. I was part of the Pederson project and struggled with an addiction. He tested me and my friends at the beginning of October. Most of them died."

"The Pederson project?" Paul asks. "Whats that?"

"Something--" tears well up in her eyes, and Adam, on impulse, reaches a hand out and grabs hers. She looks at him then, stark brown eyes meeting his own. Adam has a thought that she looks like a deer in headlights. "I--I was desperate for money. I did what I thought I had to do, and then he made me pay the price."

"I lost someone too, I think," Adam laughs. "My trap mate. His name was Lawrence, and I can't figure out if he's alive or not. I watched him cut off his foot."

Gabriela smiles. Adam glances at Paul, briefly, and shrugs.

"Maybe she won't be as quick to open up as I was," he says. "Give her time."

Paul nods once, and their interactions end. Gabriela keeps a hold on Adams hand and Adam lets her, remembering what it was like in those first couple of weeks after--hell, he's still technically in that rough spot, but it's at least a little better than it was, even if it's still shit.

Yeah, Adam can't really take showers or baths yet, and yeah, that means he's had to use strawberry scented make up wipes to keep himself smelling not-rancid, and dry shampoo to keep his hair from being a greasy mop on his head, but it's better.

His shoulder hurts all the time, but it's not the pain he woke up with that first day. Every nightmare is worse than the last, but at least he's getting two hours of sleep a night now instead of a maximum of 30 minutes. He has to go against himself, go against his natural sense of pessimism and he has to choose optimism or he won't be able to keep going.

Optimism, taking the wins where he can, is what has kept him going for the past ten weeks. It kept him sane when he was trapped in the dark, and it's kept him sane ever since.

When the meeting ends, Gabriela stays close, which is something she's trying to be covert about but Adam notices. He doesn't let it irritate him as he gets more coffee, as he eats his carrot muffin and talks to Amanda Young, a girl who'd been in a trap only a few weeks before he had. He stays behind to help Paul and the others stack up their chairs and sweep the floor just in case, and Gabriela winds up staying.

She finally gets the nerve to talk to him about two seconds after he's left the church basement, has gone to sit in the pews that are empty of anyone. He hates churches, normally, but this one is oddly comforting when it's either nearly or totally empty. It's quiet in the same way the world is after snow has fallen, which is a quiet Adam has long appreciated.

"How do you deal with it?" she asks. She's sitting in the pew behind him, her hood tucked over her head to cover her hair. "I've been trying to since the start of October, when it happened, and I just--I don't know how."

"Well, first off, Jersey was about the worst place you could've wound up in," Adam laughs a little. "Most of his crimes take place in and around the general area of Jersey, but he's not the type to test people twice, as far as I know, so don't let my assholery get to you too much about that. Secondly, I'd probably argue I'm not much better than you. I was addicted to nicotine when I went in, and I've come out with something a bit worse for my liver and my lungs both."

It makes Gabriela laugh. "I'm at the hospital a lot for skin grafts," she says. "I got insurance, somehow, so I'm not drowning in debt, but I had to tell them I couldn't have any pain medication for after. I even thought anaesthesia was risky for some time."

"I had to call and get my medical bills reduced to a point where I could pay them off," Adam says. "I work in a bookstore now, and I have insurance from them as of the new year. It'll cover my meds, which I'm grateful for. We got some pretty short sticks in the game of life, but we didn't get the shortest ones."

"You don't seem like an optimistic person," Gabriela says. "You don't look like one, I mean."

"I'm not, usually," Adam says. "But until I hear that my trap mate is dead, I'm gonna choose to be optimistic because he would want me to be, dead or alive. Until I have proof that he's gone, I'm going to keep my optimism lined up with the idea that he's alive at the forefront of it's existence."

"What if he's not?" Gabriela asks. "What after that?"

"Then--fuck, I don't know. I become pessimistic and nihilistic, I guess? Jigsaw tests me again, maybe, if it gets that bad. I think, if he does, I'll fail on purpose that time. He'd better make damn sure that it's fucking fair that time around, though--no leaving the key to my chained up foot in the full fucking bathtub again, or I'll survive it just to spite the bastard."

Gabriela laughs again. Adam gets up and walks home, back to his sad little apartment.

He has to roll and smoke two over-the-top joints just to not spiral, conks right the fuck out at 9:45 on the dot.

It's the middle of January when Adam gets something in his mailbox. He grabs it along with the newspaper and doesn't really check the labelling on either, too caught up in the idea of checking his voicemails after remembering he has a landline that he hasn't used in five months, since he'd gotten a cheap Motorola and used that to make most of his calls.

So, he drops the mail on his kitchen counter top, grabs the landline and checks his voicemails.

The first couple are from his mother, one of which was back around when he was in the trap--sent a few days before, one he could halfheartedly remember giving a listen to before he was taken. His mother telling him his father wasn't angry anymore, like that would even begin to make up for a decades worth of anger from Adams childhood up until when he left.

It's the most recent one that gets his attention whip-quick. "Hi, Adam," it's Lawrences voice--not mid-nineties Lawrence, either. Lawrence from that day or at least a week or two after, the one Adam knows.

"I don't know if you were expecting this call, or if you'll even pay any mind to this voicemail, but I found your name in the phone book, and I heard you'd been rescued, and I just--I needed to call, okay? You don't have to understand, that's fine, but I just wanted to make sure you understood how sorry I am. I'm sorry to have left you to die like that, and I can't even begin to think about all of the ways you've been affected in the aftermath without getting anxious palpitations. I should've found a way to save you, and I'll regret not having done so for the rest of my life, okay? I just wanted to make sure you knew that I regretted it, and to make sure you understand that if I could go back and do it differently, I would do so in a millisecond without a moments hesitation."

Adam is so relieved to hear his voice that he almost cries--Lawrences voice is rough on the edges, ooey-gooey and warm at the centre, and it almost does him in completely.

"In another universe, I go ahead and visit you instead of leaving you a voicemail like a damn coward, but that's not this universe, and I'm sorry for it. You don't need to call me back, all right? I just needed to call and make sure I said my peace."

The voicemail beeps and ends and Adam hangs up the phone, fights the urge to lose his mind a little but keeps himself in check just long enough to check his mail, read the letter addressed to him.

It, shockingly, is from Alison, Lawrences wife.

I had a PI locate your address, it reads. He's in the hospital--his leg got infected and it spread like wildfire. I'd come and see him before the month was out if I were you, but if I'm being honest, I really don't think he'll make it more than another week. Come as soon as you can, to give him some peace of mind. He's staying at Saint Mercy-East, and the receptionist has been told to let you in when you come around.

Alison Baker (formerly Gordon)

Adam gives in. He lets himself cry until he can't, knows that he'll have to call into work just to see Lawrence. He has to do it. Lawrence is alive, if just barely, and he needs to see him in person one last time before the only rendition of Lawrence that he can see is a headstone.

Witnessing a person in palliative care is a lot more nerve-wracking than Adam first expects. Lawrence is barely awake, occasionally shifting in his hospital bed, and his skin looks grey and sullen. His breathing is laboured and a little loud, and when Adam looks at him, he feels himself cracking just a little. Adams heart breaks as he sits in the plastic chair to Lawrences left, grabs his hand and holds onto it as tightly as he thinks he can handle without breaking down.

"Hey," he whispers. "I just wanted to come down--Allison told me where you were staying, what had happened with your leg, and I figured I'd come and see you for at least half an hour."

Lawrence stills.

"I'm just gonna talk for a bit, okay?" Adam laughs at himself. "I've never done anything like this before, so I don't really know what to do."

Lawrence looks at him. His blue eyes are dull and gray and so sorrowful that it damn near kills Adam from the inside out. He realizes that Lawrence probably knows he's not got long left, if his infection has left him that lucid. Lawrence Gordon, someone who used to be sarcastic and quippy and so full of life, Adam heartbreakingly realizes, very likely knows he's dying.

"You seemed to want me to be okay in the voicemail you left," Adam says. "I just--I want you to know that I am. I'm on meds because of chronic shoulder pain and I deal with my earned amount of PTSD stuff, but I'm okay. I work in that cute little bookstore across the way from the Aldi near the heart of the city, the one that looks real small on the outside but inside is actually kind of huge? It's called Romeros, and I've got insurance and PTO and all of that shit."

Lawrence smiles gently. Adam keeps going.

"I take photos of stray cats pretty much exclusively now," he says. "And I go to a support group to help me deal with the PTSD stuff. If you've been worried, you don't need to be anymore. I'm on the path to learning how to be okay, and it was just really important to me for you to know that. I don't want to lose you when it feels like I've just gotten you back, but this is probably gonna be the only time I visit. I love you, dude."

Adam squeezes Lawrences hand just a bit tighter.

He stays with Lawrence from the beginning of visiting hours til Lawrences heart gives out near their end. Adam watches, in a panic, as the doctors go about protocol for a DNR.

In the end, Adam is still in the room when a nurse says the unthinkable.

"Time of death: 18:04 PM, January 15th."

And then, just like that, Adam has to face a reality he's spent the last several months not wanting to confront, hating the very idea of.

Lawrence Gordon is dead. He's gone, and there's nothing Adam can do about it.

Adam can't pull himself together enough to go to the funeral. He receives an invite in the mail initially, then a copy of Lawrences obituary and the address to where he's been buried a few weeks later.

Grief, he finds, is an ugly little thing. It makes him a bit more dependent on the weed than normal, closes him off at the support group and makes him volatile on his worst nights because he hates it. He hates that he has to grieve at all, really.

Lawrence had managed to survive that bathroom. He'd mustered up the strength to cut his own foot off, and God repaid him with an infection of what remained of that leg spreading through his body and killing him? He'd survived cutting off his own foot just to die four months later? That feels like bullshit to Adam, and he hates it.

Eventually, when the anger isn't all consuming, he leaves his apartment. He stops and buys a few flowers from a convenience store, and then he goes and visits Lawrences grave.

LAWRENCE GORDON

LOVING HUSBAND, FATHER, AND SON

He sets the flowers down, reads the lettering engraved on the stone.

"I've been dealing with a lot since you passed," Adam says. He sits down in front of the head stone, careful in the motions. He runs his hands over a newly buzzed head, the hair having grown out past it's due and the cheapest option having been to take a pair of clippers to it instead of getting it cut. "Uh--I just kind of wanted to stop by for a second. I don't know if I'll ever do this again, but I kind of thought I owed it to you a little bit."

Jersey is riding out the coattails of winter now, the grass dotted with snow, but Adam doesn't really care. It's sunny out and there's an icy breeze to go with it, but it's a nice day, everything else considered.

"I've been closed off from it all--I hate thinking about you right now because your death feels like bullshit," Adam laughs. "You survived everything from that day, just as well as I did, and yet you're dead from an infection in your stump that'd radiated through the rest of your body before you could stop it, and I'm still alive. You're dead and in the ground and I'm alive and borderline addicted to the pain meds I use for my shoulder and so dependent on weed that it's long teetered past a dependency. It feels unfair."

If anyone, Lawrence should be the one who got to stay alive.

"Up until you died, after the support group was done, I'd leave the church basement and go into the church itself. I'd always sit in an empty pew and just watch," he says. "They had a candle vigil at the front, and sometimes survivors who'd gone to the support group would light candles for their trap mates who hadn't made it. I have a friend, Gabriela, who lights candles after every meeting. She whispers their names, too. Valentina. Mateo. She even lights one for the only other not-jackass survivor, named Diego."

He feels really dumb. Like--the dumbest he's ever felt dumb, but he just keeps talking.

"I don't know if I'll ever do it, but I think someday I might. Alison hates you, even though she was kind to you in your last days, and both of your parents are gone, so it kind of feels like I'm the only person who knew you that can remember you without feeling disdain. If I light one of those stupid little tea candles, you'd better show me a fuckin' sign, even though I don't believe in that shit. I love you, Lawrence, but I'm not going to risk burning my finger on a Dollar Tree match if you don't make it worth it."

He laughs at himself, shakes his head. "I'm going to go to a meeting," he says as he gets up. "Maybe open up a little bit. Have fun doing whatever it is your doing on the other side of this God awful, relentless mortal coil."

Adam doesn't open up in support group that day--the wounds are still too fresh to bear, and he doesn't think he'll be able to talk about Lawrence for another very long while, but at least he admits it to himself.

He follows Gabriela to the vigil that night, though. She has an arm around his waist, holds onto him like she's scared he's going to fall apart. He's a bit scared of falling apart, too, if he's honest, so he just lets her.

She lights a match, goes about lighting the candles one by one. Valentina. Mateo. Diego.

She blows the match out, passes Adam the matchbox.

He takes it, strikes the match alight with the sandpaper on the side, and picks the candle closest to his right.

"Lawrence," he says gently as he lights it.

It doesn't feel like closure--not exactly, anyway--and he's sure nothing ever will. He knows that he'll feel pain every time he thinks of Lawrence for the next while, at least, but he has to learn to be okay with that or the pain will never go away.

That match, that candle? He knows they're just the first steps and that he has a long way to go, but he's fine with that. His grief and everything that's come of it can take as long as they need, he decides. He'll give himself a little bit of grace and allow at least that.

#adam stanheight #adam faulkner-stanheight #adam stanheight x lawrence gordon #lawrence gordon #chainshipping #saw (2004)#saw 2004 #saw posting #sawposting

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gurugirl · 2 years ago

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I love stepdad Harry! Always brings a smile to my face when i see youve posted (guilty pleasure yum). Thank you for the last one!

but i cannot get enough of stepmom reader. You’ve made that one into something really special. In fact I told someone about it last week and they were like ~ nope. Not into stepmom stuff or older yn. Nope ~

but then guess what? they wound up reading it and binged all three parts and admitted to me that they were wrong 😂 I’m like ‘yeah I know’

just wanted to share that with you! Your stepmom fic is so shockingly good (not shocking bc you’re not a good writer, shocking bc it’s a trope most of us were not interested in) that it’s quickly become my top 5 all time favorite.

i cannot wait for part 4! I adore them and you so much. Do you have any idea when part 4 will come out? Any sneaky???

ps.. sorry for the weird capitalization stuff going on there. My phone decided when to capitalize randomly and I’m too lazy to fix.

A Good Boy sneak peek under the cut below!

🥹 thank you so much, babe. Really glad you liked the stepdad!harry from yesterday! That was a quick little fun thing to write.

As for stepmom!reader - wow! I really love that you're liking it so much and talking about it with other people and that your friend changed their mind 😂 Seems to be the theme for that fic. So many of y'all didn't think you'd like it based on the trope alone but I'm surprised that you guys did enjoy it anyway! Makes me smile.

So, I'm almost done with part 4. I think I can have it out by Thursday? Maybe? I'm super busy today (well, busy for me LOL) and gonna try to write but I've also got something I'm working on that someone paid me to write so I'm prioritizing that. Thursday at the earliest I'll post part 4 but I'll let y'all know.

And the random capitalization? My phone does the same. 😂 The words can't, can, and don't often get capitalized in the middle of sentences and it's a crapshoot on when the beginning of a sentence will be capitalized or not. I need to turn it off so it just leaves everything lowercase. So no judgement from me!

Sneak peek below !! (just remember this is literally copied from the word doc I'm writing in and hasn't been proofread or edited so some changed may be made before I post part 4)

Y/n was wearing her newly altered peach silk dress. The alterations were simple. The straps and hem were adjusted and the back column was dropped down a bit to drape to her low back. Her strappy nude heels were well-worn but comfortable because she was just simply not in the mood to wear the stiff, new heels she’d just bought.

The estate of Rebecca Manera was impressive. Probably equally as impressive as Leonardo Styles’. Most of the guests had already arrived by the time the Styles’ walked through the front door a little late.

Leo scolded Y/n for taking so long to get ready and making them run behind but in all honesty, she didn’t give a fuck. They could be half an hour late. No one would care. Why rush to go to a party? It’s not like they needed to clock in and earn a paycheck.

“It’s rude, Y/n. That’s why it matters. You’re so goddamn rude sometimes. You only think about yourself.”

She turned sharply to look at her husband in shock. That was the first time he’d ever said such a thing to her. Normally he had no opinion on how she conducted herself. She was chronically late. Yes, she could admit that was a flaw in her character but she was on time when it really counted. But to get so worked up over a party? And to insult her on top of it?

That had set the whole mood for the night. And now she was even more suspicious about this Rebecca.

But when Rebecca did make her appearance and introduced herself to Y/n she was taken aback. The woman had to be in her 50s. She was pretty, sure, but not quite Leo’s type. If Y/n were any sort of indicator of a type.

Servers walked around with trays and served the couples in attendance. There were only ten couples there as well as Rebecca’s two daughters, Y/n learned. Quite the intimate affair really.

Leo brought a glass of wine to Y/n as she chatted with Mrs. Topman (she never learned her first name, as the woman literally introduced herself as Mrs. Topman).

“Here you are darling.” His green eyes shined down at her before searching the room casually. She was on to Leo. But she found it odd that the woman he was with in the Hamptons was Rebecca. She was intrigued.

She watched Rebecca mingle and sip wine and laugh and there was nothing there that made Y/n think Leo would be interested in her sexually. But maybe that was it, Y/n thought to herself as she cocked her head to the side watching the woman speak boisterously. Maybe it wasn’t sexual. Maybe it was a woman he felt a deeper connection with than he did with Y/n. Perhaps it hadn’t started sexual but led there.

The snack table was set up with decadent treats. Y/n picked up a toast smeared with something pink, topped with heart-shaped tomatoes on top as she scanned the room for Leo, wondering where he’d gone off to. It hadn’t been that long but knowing about Rebecca being with him made things feel like she was in some kind of true crime detective story and was trying to get to the bottom of a mystery. Though there was no crime being committed, she could entertain herself with that thought.

“Are you enjoying your time tonight?”

Y/n turned her sight to Rebecca who was next to her picking up the same toast with pink schmear.

“It’s amazing. Your home is so lovely, Mrs. Manera,” she smiled and noted the woman’s massive diamond ring in addition to her massive diamond wedding ring.

“Why thank you. Phineas has put in so much work to make this large shell into a lovely cozy home.”

Y/n nearly spat her bite out. The home was anything but cozy.

“It’s incredible. Where is Mr. Manera tonight?”

“Oh, just over there,” she pointed to a man in tweed with thick black-framed glasses, “You haven’t met yet?”

Rebecca led the way as Y/n walked in her wake to meet Mr. Manera. She had still not spotted her own husband.

“Phineas, dear, this is Mrs. Styles. Leonardo’s wife.”

The man held his hand out, “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Styles.”

“Likewise. You can call me Y/n.”

“Well, Y/n. We’re happy to have you here. Where’s Leo anyway? Haven’t seen him.”

Turning around quickly to look over her shoulder she shrugged and faced the man and his wife again, “Not sure actually. I haven’t seen him in a bit myself,” she laughed. And before she could even think about what she was implying she spoke to Rebecca, “But I’m sure you’ve seen enough of him since you saw him in the Hampton’s this weekend.”

Rebecca and Phineas’ smiles dropped as they looked at one another and then back to Y/n, “I haven’t been to the Hamptons in over a decade. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Parker? Our daughter? She was just there all weekend with her girlfriends.”

A Good Boy Masterlist

A Good Boy tags: @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @shishcabobsworld @daphnesutton @spinnerswife69 @holy-macncheese-balls @cookielovesbook-akie @lilfreakjez @itsgigikay @amateurduck

#harry styles #firstpost #ask #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #sneak peek #harry styles x yn #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #stepmom!reader

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itsseohannbin · 1 year ago

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Hannji Rambles / Another Life Update

hiiii Pookies!!

Hope everyone is doing well and taking care of themselves!!!

I'm just popping in with a quick life update (cause apparently I'm having a lot of those lately) to kind of let everyone know what's been going on lately.

I know I said a couple weeks ago that I was ready to come back to tumblr and begin posting again, and I am, however, there's been a bit of a change of plans in regards to me starting up my writing/posting fics again.

Because I have been put on a temporary stress leave by my family doctor for the next couple weeks, I'm trying to reduce the amount of stress/triggers in my life until my next appointment, where I will be reassessed to determine if I'm fit to go back to work or not. I want to continue writing and posting because writing has always been a strong outlet for me to relieve stress and clear my brain when the noise gets too much, however, I need to make changes to what I will posting in order to help keep my stress levels under control.

SO,

that being said, I will be posting the remaining few parts/chapters of Like A Volcano (for all my Hannie stans out there who are ever so patiently waiting), BUT at this time, I will not be writing/posting a Jisung POV for this fic. I wanted to, and I was super excited to write a part in his pov, but I've been struggling with writing it for the last few months and it's really put a damper on my already not-so-good mental state. Maybe in the future, I will upload a snippet, but since the idea of creating a Jisung POV for LAV is causing more stress than it's worth, it will be put on the backburner for the time being. I AM SORRY FOR THOSE WHO WERE WANTING IT I JUST CANNOT WORK WITH IT RN!

However, the last few parts will be edited/revised and posted in the coming week-ish so I can finally put that fic to rest and start up The Blackened Heart again bc I am so so excited to start writing that again!

In addition to the Jisung POV being scraped (for the time being), I am also putting a halt on the LAV spinoffs I had in the works (Connected, which is the Chan x Jo spin off, and Waiting For Us, which is the Minho x Ash spin off) simply because both of them are causing more tension and stress than necessary.. I don't like it when writing feels like it's becoming a chore, I'd rather write stuff that I'm excited to write and post, and that entire AU series has quickly become the opposite of what I want to do... I will be coming back to them eventually, but as of right now, I need to do what I can to alleviate the amount of distress in my life, and that means putting LAV/Connected/WFU on hold.

I am happy to say I will be continuing my commission for the lovely @bethanysnow that I've been slowly working on while I get back into the swing of things, ((beth baby i am so sorry its taking so long im just really struggling right now so please bear with me :( )) and I'm of course still writing drabbles, fake!text posts, and my OT8 "The L Word" series.

Thank you all for the never-ending support and love I'm still receiving from a lot of you despite my inactiveness. Just know I read every single one of your comments, reblogs, and things that you all tag me in. I am still very much here in spirit, just slowly working my way back up to being a fully functional human being

In the meantime, as some of you may already know, I am starting a small business where I make beaded keychains, rings, lanyards, bracelets and more. Beading has very quickly become a safe haven for me and its very therapeutic to just sit for hours watching tv and making stuff to eventually sell. I am starting up an instagram account specifically for this business called Hannji's Creations, so if you're interested in what I'm making and such, feel free to give me a follow over there. I'm making a lot of SKZ themed stuff, however, I'm also opening up ideas for other kpop groups and other styled collections in general.

Thank you again to everyone who has stuck around and checked in on me these last few months. I know life can be tough sometimes, and lately I'm having a hard time getting back up somedays, but you guys all make it more bearable, so thank you. thank you for your continuous understanding and unconditional love..

You guys are awesome!

can't wait to show you all what's in store!!

Much Love,

Hannji <3

#hannji life update #hannji rambles #itshannjisung #itsseohannbin

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kyuuppi · 2 years ago

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Hi!! I'm kinda gonna be rly busy these days and your writings make me smile and i rly love ur works:)

so if ur requests are open I would like to request tighnari, heizou, and albedo with and S/O that had a past life in the modern world as a doctor(preferably a neurologist-) bc I've kinda wanted to be one hehe

Edit: omg, realizing I very much misread this ask, sorry. :,,)

Gender-neutral reader / *un*established relationship / reader recently came to past Teyvat from the future / neurologist - naturopathologist - bioengineer reader (separate)

AU notes: Because it is just the “future” Teyvat, I assume many species and lore are the same but, in order for modern medicine to exist, a lot of the magic of Teyvat including visions (and by extension, the archons) have been lost to time. This is just some headcanons tho so I didn’t get too deep into world-building and there may be some inconsistencies.

Ft. Tighnari; Heizou; Albedo

⭐Tighnari // Naturopathologist

→ Naturopathology is a distinct field of medicine that combines the wisdom of nature with the rigors of modern science. Naturopathic doctors use traditional Chinese medicine, herbalism, and diet-based therapies. They emphasize the power of nature over man-made drugs.

Knowing you practice medicine and are from the future, Tighnari is immediately super excited to learn from you

You may have knowledge that could help the people of Sumeru, especially his dearest friend and assistant Collei

He assumes you use really advanced techniques and technology that Teyvat is thousands of years from inventing, so he’s really surprised to learn the ingredients and remedies you talk about are the same as his own

You explain to him that not all modern medicine is quite as amazing as he had assumed and there are many illnesses that still can’t be treated or modern pharmaceutical drugs with adverse side effects such as internal bleeding and psychological addiction – so instead, you prefer to use old wisdom and nature to heal people

You introduce him to new ways to utilize and process many herbs he is already used to working with

Likewise, he teaches you about some species that have been forgotten over time or are already extinct in your own timeline, proving to you the importance of conservation

“In modern times, the improvement of international travel efficiency and climate change have led to an increase in pandemic diseases–how do you keep your immune systems so strong without vaccines in Sumeru?”

Tighnari immediately perks up at your question, tail swishing in thinly-veiled excitement. The amount of people who show interest in the flora of Avidya forest are few, even among scholars, so he is quick to jump on any opportunity to talk about them–particularly with someone as intelligent as you who understands what he’s talking about.

“Avidya forest is home to a diverse range of mushrooms, each with potent medicinal properties,” he begins, gently grasping your hand to lead you through the thick patches of brush beyond camp.

With how close you and Tighnari have grown over the course of the weeks, the forest watchers find it difficult to believe you had appeared out of nowhere just a little over a month ago. Tighnari was previously known to work mostly alone. While he offered regular lectures and was always more than willing to provide guidance and instructions to any forest watchers or visitors who asked, he tended to spend most of his time on solo patrols visiting the places he deemed too dangerous for anyone else. In the rare moments he wasn’t out and about, he generally stayed holed up in his tent, meticulously penning detailed research notes.

The closest Tighnari seemed to have to a social life was the daily check-ins on Collei’s condition and Cyno’s occasional but unappreciated visits.

Thus, seeing Tighnari spend his nearly waking moment practically glued to your hip, discussing flora and herbs in such detail even senior forest watchers would get lost listening to your conversations, was quite a surprise to everyone. The rare toothy grins usually reserved for lost animals or research breakthroughs have now become commonplace as Tighnari attentively listens to your every word. The lovesick smiles and starstruck expressions he constantly gives in your present are clear as day to anyone around. The forest watchers make it a point to leave the two of you alone on your “dates” – partially because it means they’re less likely to be subjected to a forest safety lecture from Tighnari when you’re distracting him.

Finally, the two of you reach a small river bank surrounded by cheerful yellow nilotpala lotuses in an otherwise nondescript location one would not think twice about. Tignari lets go of your hand to step forward and carefully lift a decaying tree log. There, a bed of bright orange fungus is revealed. They stand clustered together in varying heights but all dusted a bright orange that somewhat resembled a certain modern cheesy corn puff chip famous in some parts of modern Teyvat.

You gasp softly, immediately recognizing them from the illustrations in your medical school textbooks.

“Cordyceps!” you cheer.

Tighnari’s lips stretch into a boyish grin.

“Correct – when dried and ground they have a strong nutty flavor that pairs well in many savory dishes. They seem to have strong anti-inflammatory effects but concrete research is still lacking.”

“This is amazing,” you say somewhat breathlessly, slowly stepping forward to get a better look. Unbeknownst to you, Tighnari’s gaze never once strays from your figure. He seems to take in your every reaction in an equal fascination to your own as you gaze upon the fungi.

“We still use them in modern times,” you explain, “they’ve been shown to shrink tumors–but they’re extremely rare now and only grown in a few labs. It’s amazing to see so many of them just naturally occurring like this…”

“Really? That’s a shame–they’re aromatic and delicious in a mild curry or stew,” Tighnari claims.

Then, almost shyly, he adds: “Perhaps…if you come to my tent later we could share some for dinner tonight.”

⭐Heizou // Neurologist

(disclaimer: I literally knew nothing about Heizou and just read through his wiki page & voice lines to write this so it is likely really ooc x_x)

→ A neurologist is a specialist who diagnoses and treats conditions of the brain, spinal cord, and nerves. This can include muscle diseases and disorders that affect thinking and behavior.

Heizou values innate abilities above any learned skills and tends to see things in black and white – people are either good or evil and those who are evil must repent through proper trial and punishment in the criminal justice system

smh what a bootlicker

So he’d probably really underestimate you at first

He thinks nothing and no one is better at gauging the mind of others than his own intuition, not even your years of schooling and professional experience can beat genius detective Shikanoin Heizou!

You kinda have to prove yourself to him

Like maybe you happen to be tagging along when Heizou solves a case and correctly identifies the culprit to a petty crime – except even the culprit themself doesn’t fully remember committing the crime and they seem oddly confused and disoriented

After hearing the circumstances of the case and asking the suspect several questions, you learn that they had recently recovered from a very severe infection and deduce that they may be suffering from some negative cognitive effects from it that impairs their judgment and memory

You explain the concepts of neurological trauma and how physical illnesses can affect the thinking and behavior of people – sometimes criminals themselves are just victims of circumstance

After that, Heizou is much more receptive and openly interested in your profession and future world. He asks you to explain all kinds of different neurological disorders and degenerative diseases

He’ll listen to everything and try to understand the complexities of the human body as you describe them but he’s a little lost at times tbh…

He’s really interested in how your field is used in criminal cases in the future; you explain to him how medical professionals are sometimes called in during trials to explain why the victim or criminal may have acted in a particular way

Disorders relating to dementia kind of freak him out — he can’t imagine many things more terrifying than forgetting everything you’ve ever known without even being aware of it; what if he lost his intuition from a small concussion? He might be even more reluctant to get into physical fights from now on…

Since coming to Inazuma, you have become a frequent guest of the Tenryou Commission and, more accurately, of the top detective, Shikanoin Heizou. While your relationship initially began with you being the subject of intense interrogation and scrutiny – “How exactly did you get here from the future? What are your intentions for coming to Inazuma? Do you hold a grudge against the Raiden Shogun?” – over time, your honesty and pure heart – his words, not yours – earned the trust of Heizou and thus the rest of the Inazuman people.

Eventually, hours of grueling interrogations between the two of you became playfully competitive card games and battles of wit. Heizou absolutely loved to test your intelligence but not because he doubted it. On the contrary, you were honored as one of the few he considered nearly on par with his own quick wits. Even if you always lose, Heizou is convinced you’re one of the most intelligent people in Inazuma–maybe even all of Teyvat!

One of his recent favorite games to play is one in which he gives you a hypothetical patient with a list of symptoms and asks you to tell him the diagnosis. You’re pretty sure he wouldn’t even know if you were right or not but you decide not to ruin his fun.

“Okay, how about this – muscle weakness, poor vision, and difficulty standing still,” Heizou rattles off, apple green eyes watching you expectantly.

“Age of patient,” you inquire.

“Old.”

“How long did it take for symptoms to manifest?”

“Hmm…a few days.”

You look away thoughtfully as you mentally sift through multiple possibilities, Heizou’s gaze darting across your face with each small twitch of emotion. Watching you think has become something of a fixation for him.

“Possibly… Gullain-Barré Syndrome? Would need to do some NCV and cerebrospinal fluid tests to be certain though,” you finally conclude.

Heizou grins at your rudimentary diagnosis, seeming just as satisfied as he is after solving a cold case.

“As I thought, you really are a genius!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you sheepishly brush off, feeling slightly shy under Heizou’s enthusiastic praise. From what others in the commission have told you, Heizou is generally not one to throw around empty words of flattery. You find that somewhat hard to believe considering how often he compliments you, from your sharp intellect and wit to even less obvious aspects of your personality you have never considered praise-worthy.

“Nonsense,” Heizou simply brushes off, “my intuition tells me so and my intuition is never wrong.”

⭐Albedo // Biomedical Engineer

→ Biomedical engineers apply the sciences of engineering to the art of medicine in order to improve the function and life of individuals. They study, design, develop, and evaluate biological and medical systems such as artificial organs.

This is the one closest to my field IRL so my bias is going to be so obvious LOL

Albedo was interested the moment he heard someone from the future had come to Teyvat – there are numerous things that can be learned from the future, whether technological advances or social inclinations

However, when you explained your specific profession, Albedo’s immense excitement was apparent

Albedo wants to know literally everything

He’s smart enough to be able to piece together the bits you give him. Even if you don’t fully know how to explain future technology in simple terms that people from thousands of years ago would understand – how do you explain a laptop to people who don’t use electricity? – Albedo somehow gets it

He wants to document every single bit of information you give him. He listens intently and has everything you tell him basically memorized word-for-word but he still makes an effort to write down a summary at the end of each day.

While you claim there are still many limits of science in the modern world, the advancements your society has made are beyond even his own imagination and they give him hope that his goal of understanding the truth of the world may one day be possible

“So these stem cells are able to be harvested from bone marrow and transplanted to any part of the body where they naturally proliferate and regenerate damaged tissue in any part of the body?”

Albedo sits across from you in his office with uncannily perfect posture, right hand resting under his chin in thought as his gaze remains steadily on your own. Neatly-written report papers decorate the desk between the two of you, your own wonky diagrams doodled between his neat penmanship.

“Yep,” you chirp, “we have even made whole organs and organ systems with them. Simple tissues like muscle are much easier of course, but we have successfully created even more complex organs, like the heart. In the future, we hope to eliminate the need for human organ donations, especially for organs with the longest waitlists, like kidneys.”

“Fascinating,” Albedo murmurs, gaze becoming distant as he seems to lose himself in his thoughts for a moment. His attention snaps back to you before you can spend too long admiring his delicate features– a habit you have admittedly shamefully indulged in over the past few weeks.

“If you can create organ systems from cells, creating human life must be less than a century away,” he reasons.

“Actually, we’ve already created model embryos which all major organs and a beating heart, but consciousness is concept that eludes even modern science,” you begin.

With anyone else, you’re sure the start of your rambling would be met with bored, glazed over eyes or pleas to ‘please stop talking like an encyclopedia’ but Albedo’s attentiveness does not waver in the slightest as he seems to hang on to every word. The only times he breaks eye contact are to briefly add to his notes when you share something particularly novel that he wishes to discuss further in detail after you finish talking. With Albedo, there is no need to fear boring or confusing him.

And while Albedo finds your life from the future far more interesting than anything his world has to offer, you firmly disagree and are eager to learn about alchemy and visions, as they are not widely practiced in the future. He was a bit startled to learn visions are practically nonexistent in your timeline but he concludes that your science is far more magical than anything a vision can be used for.

As you learn more about each other’s worlds, you naturally come to learn about each other on a more personal level as well. You share some bits of your daily life and hobbies only as off-handed remarks but you’re surprised to find Albedo is just as interested and inquisitive about them as he is your science.

Similarly, you discover his artistic talents by accident one day when you mistakenly pick up his sketchbook instead of the notes he’d asked you to look over.

“This is amazing, Albedo!”

“They’re just some simple sketches,” he dismisses, glancing at the familiar leather-bound book in your hands.

“These are more than just sketches. Your shading is so good and you capture their expressions so perfectly! These belong in a gallery…”

Albedo finds himself fiddling awkwardly with his gloves as an uncharacteristic warmth rises fills his chest cavity from your praise. Over time he finds you elicit all sorts of uncharacteristic feelings within him, both psychological and physical. He wonders if perhaps instead visions your people have their own invisible magic that affects him so peculiarly…

The idea of exploring this particular area of research with you fills him with an amount of excitement he didn’t think possible

“I appreciate your compliments,” Albedo concedes, “however…”

Your gaze shifts from the open sketchbook in your hands to meet his own, finding him already staring at you with an expression you can’t quite decipher.

“I believe I require a model to truly improve my talents. If you don’t mind, I would be honored to practice with you.”

#kyuuppi.req #anon #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #tighnari x reader #albedo x reader #heizou x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin scenario #genshin impact scenario #genshin x you #tighnari x you #albedo x you #heizou x you #genshin headcanons #genshin hcs

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tarantula-hawk-wasp · 2 years ago

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I know the Shiro as Bruce Wayne's kid fic is probably abandoned (not meant as a slight or anything btw i have So Many fics i've abandoned writing as well) but i just read through it and i gotta say it is So Damn Incredible. The idea of former tech support, happy to be civilian, Shiro ending up the one in the most shit is insanely good. I keep thinking about the bats reaction to the footage of Shiro when he crash landed on Earth before Keith grabbed him, to see the replaced arm and numerous scars and shock of white hair, and the relief of him being alive but At What Cost?

If they ever manage to get their hands on tapings of Shiro's time in the arena you Know they would watch every single one, to the point they know more about Shiro's missing year than he does. Bruce would be so torn because Shiro used the knowledge and quick thinking passed down to him to stay alive but Shiro wasn't ever meant to be in danger like this. Shiro wasn't ever supposed to be in a situation so dangerous. His son only wanted to be an astronaut.

(Is he cursed to forever see the ones he loves suffer?)

Jason with his hackles raised preemptively in defense of Shiro because fuck the no killing rule, Shiro had always been the best of them and this hasn't changed it. Dudes ready to fight Green Lantern if the guy says the Galra aren't 'that bad' one more time - Look What They Did To His Brother, Obviously They Won't Say Shit To You If They're Planning On Invading Earth! You're From Earth!

Sorry for all my blabbering, It's just really good and i'm very thankful you wrote it <3

Anon I hope you see this.

1. Guess what bud that fic is coming out of hibernation bc I’m back into Voltron and I’m still ongoing into Batman and it’s been churning in my mind. Part of my plans for spring break next week include rereading my fic, rereading all my writing notes, working out where to go with it, going back and editing the chapters I already have written, and starting to write the rest of it. I make no promises on the timeline of a new chapter, as I’m in grad school and super busy, but that fic has lived rent free in my mind for half of a decade.

2. Thank you so much for your comments and enthusiasm!!! YEAH like part of the juiciness is that this is supposed to be Bruce’s civilian son who just wanted to be an astronaut!!!!! Flying space ships is so safe on the relative scale of things!!!!!!! But no!! Instead it’s his son who ends up like put through unimaginable torment AND who has to kill so much!!! The complexes that is going to give everyone.

The green lanterns are an aspect I had to and still have to think a lot about to work in to world building but YEAH Jason would be mad as hell. Tbh I think Hal Jordan would be equally ready to fight the galra bc he definitely had a bond with Shiro bc that’s Bruce’s coworker in the piloting/space industry

Ok the batfam seeing the footage of gladiator fights is something that I can’t remember if it was in my notes but like woof anon might have to use that bc that concept is juicy as hell

Anyways thank you so much for this message. I hope you know I’m gonna start working on that fic again very very soon

#the bat paladin #shiro is a batkid au #holly v*ltron tag #answered asks #anonymous

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krisdreaming · 5 years ago

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Omg, that Iwaizumi scenario is the cutest thing I've recently seen ❤ Can I ask for the same one with Kuroo? ❤

OF COURSE omg. This is the Iwa scenario they’re referring to. I’m getting back into writing with a super self-indulgent Kuroo thing bc who would I be if I didn’t? :’) (college AU!)

Edit: 4+1 masterlist is here

Four times Tetsurou thinks he loves you, and the one time he finally says it out loud.

The library is completely silent save for the murmur of other students whispering and the soft patter of the rain outside hitting the window panes. Tetsurou is here to keep you company more than anything. You’ve got a huge test coming up, and you’ve been studying for almost two hours now. Tetsurou had finished his chemistry assignment 20 minutes ago, so now he’s just aimlessly surfing the web.

Bored, he glances at you over the top of his laptop screen. You’re still hard at work with your head bent over your textbook, nibbling on the end of your pen. Something tugs in his middle. You must feel his eyes on you, because after a few moments, you look up at him with a frown. “What?”

He licks his lips, then shakes his head. “Nothing. You soon done?”

You laugh. It’s one of his favorite sounds. “Soon.”

You look back down at your book, but he can’t stop looking at you. The tug in his middle has taken the form of three small words, but this isn’t the place to say them. He’s not sure he could, even if it was. Instead, he turns them over in his mind, and decides he likes the feel of them. I love you.

ii.

Kenma is laying on his belly Tetsurou’s bed, tapping away at his video game console. The soft music playing from his game is pleasant background noise now that the movie playing on your laptop has ended. You and Tetsurou are sitting on the floor, with your backs propped against the bed. He’s feeling a little giddy, most likely a combination of the lateness and all of the sugar you’d consumed.

“That was awful!” You laugh, knocking your shoulder against his. “Who let you decide what movie we should watch?”

“Kenma.” Tetsurou points up, in the general direction of his friend behind him. Kenma scowls even though neither of you can see him.

“Did not.” He protests softly. “All I said was that I didn’t care what we watched.”

“Same thing.” Tetsurou laughs even though it’s not really that funny. You join him for a little bit, but the sound soon dies on your lips, and you hug his arm, pillowing your head on his shoulder and peering up at him through your eyelashes. The remains of the smile that lingers on your face is soft. He falls silent, too.

“Tetsu, I’m starting to get sleepy now.” You murmur. He leans down to press a quick kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Are you?” The warm affection in his voice even takes him by surprise.

“Mm-hmm.” You hum, and you slide down until your head is resting against his thigh. You close your eyes and release a soft sigh, and looking down at you a warm tingle that’s not unpleasant fills Tetsurou’s chest. I love you catches in his throat, and instead of saying anything, his fingers begin gently carding through your hair.

After a few minutes of silence, Kenma peers over the edge of the bed at you, then looks at Tetsurou with a quirked eyebrow. There’s nothing to deny, so Tetsurou just shrugs, a half smile ghosting across his face. The look in Kenma’s eyes is a little too knowing.

iii.

“Ooh, look at this!” You tug on Tetusrou’s hand, and once again he’s being pulled to another exhibit. He’d had a feeling you’d enjoy checking out this museum and the special history installation they’d advertised, but he hadn’t quite expected this level of enthusiasm.

You are so into this. You’re stopping to read every plaque, leaning in close to look at everything on display. Other people are skirting around the two of you but you’re oblivious to it. He thinks it’s absolutely adorable.

“Isn’t this so cool?” You look at him, and your eyes are practically glowing. He wants to tease that you’ve never quite looked at him with the same enthusiasm. “Thanks for taking me here.” You continue, and your smile goes softer as you tug on his hand again, this time to bring him close enough to press a quick kiss to his lips. He can’t resist, and leans in to return the favor, smiling against your lips for just a few moments.

“Of course.” He says, shrugging as though it’s really no big deal.

“You know me so well.” You grin before turning your attention back to the exhibits, still keeping a firm hold on his hand. He gives yours three slight squeezes. If you pick up on the hidden meaning and the words he shouldn’t say for the first time in public, you don’t give any sign.

iv.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Tetsurou just manages to wheeze out, but you shake your head firmly.

“Too bad, I’m here.” You say breezily, and he’s entirely too woozy to do anything else about it. “I have medicine, and I brought some tea, that should help your throat.” You’re already bustling around the room, heating up the electric kettle and dropping a tea bag into a mug. “You still feel pretty gross, huh?”

His response is a coughing fit that he tries unsuccessfully to hold back. Immediately, you’re at his side, concern coloring your face as you unscrew the cap from the bottle of water you’d placed on his bedside stand. After taking enough sips to placate you, he sets it back down, and you reach out and tenderly brush his hair away from his flushed face. He watches as you return to the tea, pouring the now hot water into the mug. You’re humming softly to yourself as you squeeze in a generous amount of honey.

You’re so good at taking care of him. He hadn’t even asked for it, and yet here you are, making him tea and bringing him medicine and looking at him with those soft eyes. He doesn’t deserve you, but yet you’re still here, sticking stubbornly by his side.

“Here.” You hand him the mug and lean in to brush a quick kiss to his forehead. “You drink this, and I’m going to go pick up some soup, okay?”

“Thank you.” He says as he lifts the mug to his lips, smiling meekly at you over the rim as you turn to go. He loves you so much that it almost scares him.

Having you in his arms again is better than Tetsurou could have imagined. Winter break had only lasted a few weeks, but to him it had felt like an eternity. “I missed you!” You breathe into his neck, and he can feel the words on his skin. He hugs you a little closer.

“I missed you too.” Finally he releases you so that he can look at your face again, trying to memorize every feature even more clearly for the next time you’ll have to be apart. You grin at him, reaching to sandwich his face between your hands.

“You look so serious.” You giggle, and he can’t help but crack a smile at that before you pull his face down to yours and kiss him one more time.

“Now what?” He asks after you pull away, not really caring what you do next as long as he’s with you.

You think for a few moments, then open the door of your dorm directly behind you and tug him inside. “I kinda just want to cuddle for the rest of the night.” You admit. Nothing has ever sounded so perfect to him.

“I love you.” He says without thinking, and his eyes blow wide almost as fast as yours do.

“What?” You ask, blinking at him, and he reaches for your hands, supposing now is as good a time as any.

“I love you.” He repeats, suddenly feeling just a little bashful. “And I mean that. You’re… amazing.” His fingers skim your cheek. “But it’s okay if you don’t want to say it back yet, I-”

“I love you too.” You blurt out before he can even finish his sentence, and he feels like he’s smiling impossibly big.

“Yeah?” He’s searching your face again, wanting to memorize every single part of this moment.

“Yeah.” You grin. The next time he says it is five seconds later, against your lips, and he wonders how something so easy had taken him so long to say.

#Haikyuu #Haikyuu imagines #Kuroo Tetsurou #Kuroo Tetsurou x reader #Kuroo x reader #Haikyuu x reader #request #500

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