#2587 words

[another-dr-another]

Iranami… {Died} away.

Kobashikawa started to fall asleep, but Ōtori woke him up, and reminded him he needed to go get {his binder off}.

Kobashikawa woke up Tsurugi so Tsurugi would know why someone was leaving, and so he would keep the {door} open. 

Tsurugi hitting his {head} on the bed frame.

Tsurugi laid down, Higa laid down, and to our knowledge, everyone was {asleep}.

We entered the dining hall, triggering the {BDA}, while I went back to Tsurugi’s dorm. 

Ōtori, Hatano, and {me}.

Maeda, narrating - Yeah… that works, I think I know what I want to say, going off that.

Maeda - The case is still familiar- though it’s weird trying to remember what information to omit.

Maeda - But! I think I’m starting to get a feel for what we were thinking before we started to debate

~*~

Maeda - Last night, Higa, Iranami, Ōtori, Kobashikawa, and Uehara went to the dining hall. Higa and Ōtori left first, then Kobashikawa and Uehara, leaving Iranami.

Maeda - Ōtori poisoned some coffee, and Iranami… passed away. Back in Tsurugi’s dorm, everyone laid down to sleep.

Maeda - Maki and Hatano were already asleep, and I was mostly asleep. Kobashikawa started to fall asleep, but Ōtori woke him up, and reminded him he needed to go get changed.

Maeda - Kobashikawa woke up Tsurugi so Tsurugi would know why someone was leaving, and so he would keep the door open. 

Maeda - Kobashikawa came back, he started to fall asleep, but as Tsurugi went back to bed, he woke Higa up.

Maeda - Tsurugi and Higa got into a fight, which culminated with Higa hitting Tsurugi, and Tsurugi hitting his head on the bed frame.

Maeda - Tsurugi laid down, Higa laid down, and to our knowledge, everyone was asleep.

Maeda - In the morning, Hatano, then Ōtori, then myself, woke up, and left Tsurugi’s dorm to go to the dining hall, which we reached at 7:28.

Maeda - We entered the dining hall, triggering the announcement, while I went back to Tsurugi’s dorm. 

Maeda - Everyone left the room when I came in, but Uehara, Tsurugi and I triggered the second announcement when we realized that the head count was one short, even accounting for Ōtori, Hatano, and Iranami.

Maeda - That… should be everything we know after investigating.

Maeda - Right?

Taira - Sounds fine… but I don’t know what Uehara’s looking for, of course.

Uehara - …Huh?

Uehara - Ah- sorry. No, I think that’s good.

Tsurugi - …

Tsurugi - When you finished investigating, you didn’t know about the fight yet.

Tsurugi - You did know that you heard sounds last night, but didn’t know what they were from.

Tsurugi - Also, you found dried blood on a pillow on the empty bed frame. And, Higa had discoloration along the back of his neck, and the back of his arms.

Maki - Which are discoloration, from blood pooling- another sign that Higa had been dead for awhile.

Maeda - Right! Yeah- I forgot about that.

//Tsurugi idly looks around the room, while Maki shrugs dismissively. Takes a team.

Kobashikawa - So… where do we go from here?

Uehara - That’s up to you all. Where do you want the debate to go?

Ōtori - Hey- we’re here because you told us to throw out our arguments and start again. Step it up a bit, what are you thinking?

Uehara - …Honestly, I don’t really know…

Maeda - Seriously, Uehara?

Uehara - It’s- I know where this is supposed to end, just not… how to get there.

Hatano - …

Hatano - Do you know who the blackened is?

//…Uehara doesn’t reply. He doesn’t particularly seem to be ignoring the question, just… it’s as though he didn’t hear it.

Maeda - …

Maeda - Let’s… try deconstructing our arguments, actually. Rather than arguing for them, what if we all tried to argue against them?

Ōtori - Why would we do that?

Maeda - Well… we know that we started to get kinda… self-relying with our arguments, right? Maybe now that we’ve hashed things out, and have a better understanding, we should check things again.

Maki - …I get it.

Maki - Like, the arguments we had before were theoretical- scaffolding, so we could keep building up.

Maki - We did get some information out of the debate- we just didn’t get an answer. Some of us didn’t know any part of last night's timeline, and none of us knew about Tsurugi’s fight with Higa.

Maki - Maybe now if we try to make our arguments again, we’ll be able to get more information out of them.

Ōtori - …

Ōtori - Uehara?

Uehara - …Huh?

Uehara - Uh- I don’t know. Go for it. 

//Next to Uehara, Tsurugi covers his face with his hands, and curls inwards slightly. After a moment, he drops his hands, and places them on his podium.

Kobashikawa - …The main thing we tried to establish was alibis for everybody. Most people were either established to be asleep, or established to not be strong enough to strangle Higa.

Taira - I feel that both of those are rather firm points, are they not?

Kobashikawa - …Maybe you could argue the people we thought were asleep might not have been?

//Ōtori looks at Kobashikawa- but it doesn’t seem like Kobashikawa means the suggestion any way but genuinely.

Tomori - …Really?

Kobashikawa - I mean- I think it makes sense to say it wasn’t them, but…

Hatano - Any of them could have woken up in the night- had a nightmare, whatever. Killed Higa, then went back to sleep.

Kobasikawa - …Or maybe they were only pretending to be asleep when people saw them, and they were awake to hear the fight.

Maki - …

Maki - If we say that, then I’m back on the list, along with Ōtori and Taira.

Ōtori - Is that right? That’s who our list of suspects is?

Taira - Uehara?

Uehara - ?

Taira - The person you think is the suspect- it’s either myself, Ōtori, Maki, or Tomori?

Uehara - Oh- no, no…

Uehara - You haven’t gotten rid of everything yet.

Maeda - Oh, my alibi’s totally gonna get shot.

Maeda - …Which sucks- but why does Uehara want to get rid of his own alibi?

Taira - So, the strength alibi is next.

Kobashikawa - Which cleared Uehara, Maeda, and myself. But…

Ōtori - But?

Kobashikawa - …I don’t have an idea for this one like I did the other alibi.

//Ōtori seems to scoff slightly.

Uehara - …

Tomori - …

Tomori - What if… we say Higa died another way?

Kobashikawa - Oh- something that wouldn’t be limited by strength?

Ōtori - Like what? Poison?

Maki - …

Hatano - …

Maeda - …

Maeda - Why would you say that.

Maki, immediately - Genuinely are you fucking dumb?

Ōtori - I was joking!

Tomori - I-

Tomori - Poison! Or something.

Tomori - I don’t- let’s ignore the poison, please. Please. 

Tomori - Just. Something other than suffocation.

Kobashikawa - Strangulation. That’s what we agreed it was.

Tomori - …Sorry. I’m kinda confused- what’s the difference again? I know we covered it, just-

Maki - You’re okay, Tomori. It was a while ago.

Maki - Strangulation as in his throat getting constricted, not suffocation as in airways blocked.

Maki - That’s why we had some people do the squeeze test, was so we could gage if they were strong enough to strangle Higa.

Hatano - Wait- screw that.

Hatano - Why did we decide it was strangulation, again?

Taira - Due to the position of Higa’s body, if I remember correctly. Specifically, it was his hands, they looked like they were blocking something. 

Hatano - Right. That’s pretty hard to argue against, right?

Maki - …Sure, but that’s true of our other reasonings-

Hatano - But we can get rid of the alibi without changing the method of murder! Tsurugi could’ve just been wrong when he did his test!

Hatano - Maybe it was Uehara, and he lied. Tall people are usually fairly strong, y’know.

//Hatano isn’t looking at him, but Uehara still shrugs. 

Tsurugi - …

//Maeda watches as Tsurugi steps to the edge of his podium, closer to Uehara, and reaches out to grab Uehara’s arm, trying to gently urge him closer.

Ōtori - Actually, that isn’t bad. It means we keep our cause of death that’s consistent with the evidence we have- but it still does the job of taking down the alibis.

Taira - What explanation are we utilizing?

Kobashikawa - …

Tomori - I think- just that Tsurugi’s test isn’t something we can guarantee was right.

Taira - Tsurugi, thoughts?

//Tsurugi is maneuvering Uehara’s arm around his shoulder

Tsurugi - That’s okay, I don’t mind it.

Maeda - So- that’s it, then.

Maeda - Maki, Ōtori, Taira, Hatano, Tomori, and now Kobashikawa, Uehara, and me. Anyone could be the blackened.

Hatano - Sure- if we say we’ve really dismantled the alibis.

Maki - Well?

Uehara - …?

Uehara - That’s… it’s up to you guys. Where does the debate go from here?

Maki - You really don’t have a plan?

Uehara - …I think… this is the best plan.

Maeda - Make us deal with everything again.

Maeda - I- that sounded bad. I really think I get it, though.

Maeda - Maybe if we construct our arguments again, we’ll find a flaw.

Uehara - …

Uehara - That won’t work.

Maeda - What. Uehara.

Uehara - Sorry. Shit- sorry. Sorry.

Uehara - It’s… that’s not what the point of that was supposed to be. I know- you made that point earlier and I didn’t say anything, but-

Uehara - Uh-

Uehara - …That’s not what my point was.

Tsurugi - …

Tsurugi - So silly…

Tsurugi - Maybe we should reverse engineer things… plug everyone in as the blackened, and see who the evidence supports best?

Taira - …Tsurugi. You don’t know who the blackened is.

Tsurugi - …?

Tsurugi - …I-

Tsurugi - Aaah… have you ever spent tons of time with pill bugs, and you can feel your head start to curl up like them? And nothing can get through?

Tsurugi-  I totally don’t know what you’re telling me, Taira…

Maeda - Is she questioning him? Or is she just stating a fact?

Taira - I just wanted to remind you of that.

Taira - Maybe you should take this a bit more seriously. You’re the one who’s failing us, in a way. 

Taira - I’m a maid, I’m not supposed to be able to solve murders. We all put our faith in you, and you’re coming up short. Why did you even get scouted?

Tsurugi - …

Tsurugi - I don’t care if you talk like that to me. It won’t help our situation, and you know that. There’s no point to that sort of statement.

Taira - I’d rather name what I’m seeing. Can you acknowledge what’s happening here?

Tsurugi - We aren’t making any progress, if that’s what you mean.

Taira - Does that scare you? Do you feel anything, at the prospect of us dying?

Tsurugi - …

Maeda - …He wants to back down from the conversation.

Tsurugi - You aren’t asking that genuinely. You’re trying to shape things so it seems like I’m working against the class. 

Taira - I’m trying to skew things? All I’ve done is ask you questions. Why are you afraid of answering?

Tsurugi - I don’t want to talk about this because I don’t want to prove that I care about everyone’s survival.

Taira - Would you be sad if we died?

Tsurugi - Can somebody else step in?

Tomori - Oh-

Ōtori - Taira, this isn’t getting us anywhere. You can feel however, but unless you think this’ll help us work out who the blackened is, let’s move on.

Taira - …Hm.

Taira - I feel like understanding everyone’s motivations would help us. But, it’s true that my argument right now isn’t very strong. So, let’s go back.

Maeda - …

Maeda - Okay. 

Maeda - ???

Maki - …Reverse engineering?

Ōtori - Honestly, I think that’s stupid.

//Maki throws up her hands, frustrated.

Maki - Okay! Your bright idea, then?

Ōtori - …

Ōtori - Is anyone… automatically suspicious to any of you?

Hatano - What- like, guess work?

Ōtori - No… just… gut instinct, I guess.

Tomori - R-Really?

Ōtori - I mean- there’s like, science behind it, right? Where you get a feeling about something?

Maeda - …

Maeda - In theory, saying that you noticed more than you realized you did.

Taira - Mhm. Something tips you off- usually, to a situation being unsafe.

Ōtori - Exactly… 

Ōtori - I hate to say it- like, seriously, I swear I’m not crazy… but I think I’ve totally had those moments where I had the feeling I needed to reevaluate, and I ended up being right.

Tsurugi - The sixth sense. Premonitions but only for getting the fuck out of Dodge. 

Tomori - …

Tomori - So… are we going to vote?

Kobashikawa - We- we aren’t right?

Ōtori - I mean, not for the blackened… but- maybe we can see if we all have the same… inclination. 

Ōtori - If we do, maybe it’s something worth pursuing.

Tomori - But… isn’t that sort of ignoring what we just did?

Maeda - Well…

Maeda - If it got us back into the same state of mind we were in before we started debating, didn’t it have the effect Uehara intended?

Ōtori - …What even was Uehara’s goal…

//Maeda looks at Uehara. He’s leaned over, with Tsurugi holding a tissue to his nose. 

Maeda - …

Maeda - Well. Who cares.

Maeda - Our best option here might just be to see what we all felt like before we started the trial.

Tomori - …

Tomori - But that doesn’t make sense!

Rebuttal Showdown: START!

Truth Bullets:

Kobashikawa’s Testimony Maeda’s Burns Taira’s Testimony

Tomori - We shouldn’t just guess who we think the blackened is! Intuition can be totally off!

Tomori - I mean- what did any of you think about the past murders? I didn’t know who it was! 

Tomori - This is way too high stake to just guess!

Tomori - We need to use actual logic, and try to work through things!

Tomori - Let’s debate! Let’s talk! But let’s not go off what we feel like it could be! 

BREAK!

Maeda - She’s right… I don’t know who I would’ve said if I’d been asked to guess the last two murders- especially not the first one, I don’t have a clue what I was thinking then.

Maeda - But we’ve already played the logic game, and we were able to make arguments for everyone!

Maeda - We aren’t going to vote- this is just another approach for debate!

Phase Two

Tomori - But what will this give us that normal debate can’t?

Tomori -We {can’t go baselessly accusing each other}! It’s bad for the group- didn’t you see what we just devolved into?

Tomori - This is way too serious to just be going off of a feeling, isn’t it?

Tomori - We can {review the evidence again}, and see if we find anything new this time.

Tomori - No matter what, we need to understand what our evidence is saying.

Tomori - There {has to be an answer indicated by the evidence we found}- we just don’t know what it is yet!

Tomori - But this isn’t using any evidence- and opinions aren’t a good way to solve a murder case.

~*~

Maeda, narrating - I really get what Tomori’s saying- guessing the blackened’s identity is stressful!

Maeda - But, she’s the one who made the point that we’re getting harsh… we should make an argument for something.

Maeda - I don’t know why she’s so against it, though. It has some stressful implications- but that’s not what we’re dealing with right now.

[albertxylin]

Good Focus

I focus on the good things that happened today. I focus on the laughter and conversations, The things I got done. I focus on the peace I always find in the garden, And the way music carries me away. It was not a good day. I do not focus on the good in spite of that, But because of it.

[wildemaven]

chasing stillness | jack abbot

pairing - jack abbot x ofc!alix miller, rn word count - 2587 content warning - 18+ blog; lots of self reflection, use of ‘you’, Alix :39, lighter skin tone, has an a good amount of tattoos covering her body, has short hair that’s long enough to be pulled back, an avid runner:, established friendship, lots of feelings— but neither of them seem to be brave enough to share with the classroom, sarcasm and friendly banter, mention of divorce, mention of blood but nothing too serious, no y/n, please let me know if I failed to list something. a/n - I originally had something completely different I was going to post for these two first and then I started writing this and things went in a different direction. So you’re getting this first and then other thing will come later. I feel rusty with my writing but it was fun to dive back into it. Anyways, gonna go hide now! Next | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The notebook sat open on the kitchen counter—the one filled with countless grocery lists, to-do tasks and other personal details worth noting—next to your keys, ball-point pen and the bland energy bar you still needed to scarf down. 

Outside the sky was beginning its transition from late afternoon to early evening— clouds backlit in a soft gold as the sun slowly inched toward the city’s skyline. 

You stood in a pocket of fading light that filtered through the kitchen window, one foot on the bottom rung of a stool as you finished lacing up your well-worn running shoes. With both feet now firmly planted on the hardwood floor, your eyes drift to the blank page. You grab the pen, clicking once, twice writing a single line: 

Goals, Guts & Zero Guilt— Just Fucking Do It

You stared at the words for a while. The way they loop, cross and connect with purpose. 

It’s not the first time you’ve attempted this list. You start it every week, chickening out and turning the page allowing other lists to become your priority in the following days— you were a pro at hindering your own growth. There were times you’d flip back to the page, reading the words over before leaving on your run to work then flipping to the first blank page pushing it off for another day. 

But today felt different. And so you add:

run because it feels good, not because I’m outrunning anything

I’m not a failure because my marriage failed 

Starting over is a new beginning, not a punishment 

Stop hiding from the idea that someone might care

You pause. Pen hovering as you internally debate the last point, then adding: 

“Because You Matter” - Ask Jack, someday. Maybe

Because you matter. Those three words had been tormenting you since he’d said them to you the night of PittFest. There was a softness in the way he had spoken to you in that moment, dialing back his grit and satirical tone. This wasn’t an Attending giving his post-mass-casualty speech. It felt vulnerable and raw— like there was more he wanted to say than he allowed himself to. 

Because you matter to the hospital? Because you matter to us? Because you matter to him? 

Your fingers trace over the edge of that last line. Not crossing it out or underlining it or avoiding like you had been for the last year. Just acknowledging it— a possibility, at some point. 

The vibration from your watch pulls you from your thoughts. It’s an hour before your shift starts. You grab your keys, bag—tossing in the forgotten energy bar you’ll now contemplate eating mid-shift—and zip your hoodie halfway. 

Running to work wasn’t efficient. It didn’t make sense, especially before a 12 hour shift in the emergency room where you were on your feet for hours on end. But it made you feel something. The closest to being in control you’d felt in a long time. 

It gives you time to carve out space in your head— clear the static. Respite from your psyche and the stress of work you sometimes carry longer than you should. The hum of the city and the rhythm of your feet pounding against the pavement always made the perfect soundtrack as you descended the steps of your apartment building and head toward Pittsburgh Medical Trauma Center. 

*

The sky had deepened to a darker shade, streaked with ash-blue clouds. The first stars were just beginning to emerge—faint little beacons welcoming you to the night shift. 

As the hospital comes into view, you slowed to a jog. Breathing steady. Legs warm and heavy with a pleasant fatigue. You wipe the sweat from your forehead with the sleeve of your hoodie. 

A single bus sits in the ambulance bay— vacant and waiting for the next urgent departure. 

You're five minutes past your normal arrival time, but take a moment to fully collect yourself. Eyes closed, you draw in a long breath, then exhale deeply. And again. 

The whirring of the mechanical door sliding open cuts through the air, the bustle of ED spilling out and echoing across the concrete that surrounds you. Your pulse is a deafening thud in your ears— not from exertion, but the flicker of movement in front of you. 

Jack. 

He stands just beyond the entrance doors. A cup of coffee in one hand, badge clipped to its usual spot on his pants pocket and his gaze fixed on the watch strapped to his left wrist—an old relic from his service days, still faithfully ticking. 

“Five minutes slower than the other day.” Jack says, finally looking up at you. Surprise flickers in his eyes, quickly replaced by a smirk. “Should I be worried you’re losing stamina… or just trying to give me a head start?”

“Is this where I start regretting sharing my location with you?” You ask, entirely teasing. Cold air nips at your bare skin as you peel off your damp hoodie. The ink on your arms rises beneath a trail of goosebumps as a breeze sweeps through the emergency bay. 

You’d been working together for the better part of five years, riding the unpredictable waves of ED nights that swung between full-blown chaos and ghostly quiet. Him, Jack Abbot— the cool-headed Senior Emergency Medicine Physician that everyone turned to when things fell apart. You, Alix Miller—  the well respected R.N. and anchor who always knew where everything was, anticipated what needed doing and had the kind of deadpan wit that made Jack look forward to shift change.

Somewhere along the way, between split-second triage calls and vending machine raids at 1 a.m., you’d carved out a rhythm— easy, constant. The kind of friendship built on trust, sharp banter and just enough stolen glances and lingering silences to keep you both pretending it was still just that.

Jack chuckles, shaking his head, slipping his free hand into his pocket. “If you didn’t want me keeping tabs, you shouldn’t have accepted the request.” His eyes skim your ink, but he keeps his tone light. “Didn’t want to crush your spirit two runs in a row.”

He pauses, his smirk softening just a touch. “Miller— you good, though? You look like you ran more than just miles today.”

Because you matter. 

“Yeah— yeah I’m fine. Got a late start. Slept like shit and probably should have stretched out more. Nothing I can’t handle.” You say with your best convincing tone, hoping it’s enough that he buys into it.  

“You sure?” Jack’s head tilts slightly, offering you an opening— a quiet invitation to lay it all out. You’re not surprised he doesn’t buy it. He knows you too well. All you can offer is a reassuring smile and a nod.

“I need you in there.”

“You’ve got me, Abbot.” You say, giving his shoulder a brief squeeze as you pass him and step through the doorway.

*

It was 3:45 am when you found a moment to sit, most patients waiting on lab results or family to be released to. You sank into the chair, muscles heavy, mind foggy with the weight of too many hours and not enough rest. At least it was Friday— the end of a long, punishing week finally within reach. You held onto that thought like a lifeline.

Jack was taking advantage of the brief lulled atmosphere leaning against the counter of the nurses station with a half-drained cup of sludge, watching as you scribbled down notes onto your beloved fluorescent pink square sticky notepad with the same energy as a dying flashlight— your use of them was prevalent, adorning all surfaces around the hub of the Emergency Department. 

“Is it your pen giving out or is that your soul?” Jack asked dryly before gulping down the last bit of his black coffee and tossing the paper cup into the overflowing trash can. 

You didn’t look up as you peeled another square from the pad, crumpling it in your hand and tossing in the same direction. “Both, unfortunately.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He shook his head and grinned at your quick response, huffing out a snort just barely audible over the patient monitors and hushed murmuring among the other nurses and residents. 

“Go home, Miller. That’s the third time you’ve written ‘Abbot’ with two T’s.” He says, eyeing you with mock seriousness. “Pretty sure there’s a 23-gauge needle around here somewhere. I could drain whatever ink is left in that pen, take you behind Curtain 4, and make it permanent.” He unfolds his left arm, pointing to a spot on yours. “Right there, just above that little leaf thing on your forearm. You’ll never forget it.”

“That would be a bird wing, and I’m just seeing if you’re awake enough to catch it. As thrilling as that infection sounds— I’ll pass. Besides, it’s Friday—  I leave when you do.”

Jack’s house was a charming Craftsman bungalow located exactly two miles from the hospital. With two bedrooms and a small tiled bathroom, it was furnished in a way that perfectly reflected his laid-back personality, subtly underscored by the crisp precision of his military background. Every detail, every piece of his life arranged throughout the space, felt intentional—quietly ordered, effortlessly him.

Your house was on the opposite side of town— ten miles from Jack's and twelve from the hospital. 

It had become a normal occurrence since PittFest. 

Just crash at my place, Miller. It’s closer. You shouldn’t be running home like this.

You hadn’t argued. Too tired. Too wrung out. And maybe—though you hadn’t let yourself think it at the time—too grateful for the way he’d said it like it wasn’t a question.

He’d drive. You’d ride in silence. The blackout curtains made it easier to fall asleep fast and hard the second you laid on the couch. You’d sleep a few hours, pull together some sort of meal for the two of you from whatever he had in his fridge, then call a rideshare, or sometimes—on the rare days he wasn’t back on shift—he’d take you home himself.

He told you it was for convenience. That it wasn’t safe to run home after a twelve-hour shift, not with the streets as empty and strange as they were before dawn.

But the truth was quieter, heavier.

He just wanted to make sure you were safe.

Little did you know it eased something inside him— like he’d tucked you into a space where the world couldn’t get to you, at least not for a few hours.

Now, over a year later, it was just a normal routine between you two. 

“Fair. But I’ll have you know, it wouldn’t be my first.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I was pretty popular in the barracks for my stick-and-pokes. Practically a professional.” he murmured, eyes drifting back to the monitor above the nurses’ station, reading and rereading the stats, analyzing each one to see where his presence was needed most, mapping out his next move. 

“Oh, I’m sure you were,” you said with a teasing smile, eyes lingering on him as you rolled them just enough to let him know you weren’t entirely unimpressed. “Alright. Go do your thing and work your doctor magic, Abbot.” Peeling another square, wadding it into a ball before tossing it to where Jack was still leaning with his arms crossed over his chest, hitting his bicep and falling to the floor. 

“That’s what I do best. And I look damn good doing it.” Propelling himself forward and smacking the top of the desk with a grin before heading around the counter toward the patient in room twelve.

*

Some people dreaded night shifts, but you had grown accustomed to them—thrived on them. The darkness brought fewer questions, fewer forced smiles. While the world slept, you became an expert at stitching things back together— arteries, skin, and the real-life stories unraveling at 2 a.m. in multiple trauma bays. A nightly rhythm of chaos that gives you purpose.

When morning arrives, as it always does, you trade the steady hum of machines, overhead pages, the metallic tang of blood, and the sharp sting of antiseptic mingled with burnt coffee for the quiet calm of the city as you step outside.

Jack walks ahead, as he always does, his canvas bag slung high over his shoulder. The morning light casting long shadows across the walkway leading to the hospital’s parking garage. He scans the path without thinking, eyes sweeping over every corner, every parked car— familiar or not. It’s the soldier in him. Those instincts etched deep in his bones, even in peacetime. There’s no threat here, not really, but he still walks like there might be. One step ahead. Always ready to shield, to take the hit before it ever reaches you.

Because you matter.

The flick of Jack’s unlock button sets off a rapid series of beeps as you near the black truck. He’s already at the passenger door holding it open, leaning casually against the frame. He doesn’t say anything as you approach— just observes you quietly. Your dark grey scrub top is rumpled and half-tucked and the loose waves of your hair are barely contained in your favorite clip— clear signs of a long shift.

Somehow, he always looks like he’s stepped out of a GQ centerfold— every curl perfectly in place. The greying five o’clock shadow doesn’t take away from his looks— if anything, it makes them worse in the best way. Like he needs the added charm on top of everything else he’s already got going for him.

There’s a flicker of nervousness in him that catches your eye just before you climb into the truck. His head is angled down toward his boots, his weight shifting from one foot to the other, only lifting his gaze once you’re standing right in front of him. And when he looks at you—really looks—it’s as if time stalls just for a moment. His head tilts in that signature way of his and he gives you a little nod that seems to say, I’ve got you now.

You toss your bag on the floor and slide into the seat. Your legs feel unsteady, almost jelly-like..

The sun glares harshly through the windshield as Jack pulls out of the garage and merges onto the busy street, making you wince. You groaned, quickly flipping the visor down, trying to block what you could. Jack chuckled quietly to himself, turning the dial on the radio up just enough for a country ballad to fill the truck cab— something about a neon moon. 

You slump back in the seat with a quiet sigh, searching for some semblance of comfort to get through the last stretch of the short drive. Your thoughts start to dissolve into that familiar haze that always follows the slow burn-off of post-shift adrenaline. And like clockwork, your eyes are already drifting shut by the time he turns onto his street.

Jack glances over once, careful not to wake you, then pulls into his driveway. He let the engine idle for a second longer than necessary, just watching you breathe— steadily now, not like earlier when you were leaning over a coding patient with shaking hands and blood coating your gloves.

He didn’t wake you until he absolutely had to.

You stirred with a soft sound, slightly dazed as if you’d just woken from a year long slumber, blinking slowly at the front door.

“You’re home,” he said.

You smile sleepily at the the sentiment, but don’t bother to correct him.

[wreckastowx3]

Give in To Me: An Andrew "Pope" Cody Au Ch. 1

Pairing: High School!Andrew "Pope" Cody x Original Female Character

Words: 2587

Summary: Andrew gains a new friend and Tatiana gains a new crush.

gifs via: @dcminions @richardcameron

Tatiana listened as her best friend vented about her weekend as they made their way to their seats. Mr. Clark served as both their homeroom teacher and their first period U.S. history teacher. 

“Hold on ladies, I did some rearranging, Farrah you’ll be switching seats with Andrew.”

“What?! He barely even shows up to school.”

“Well when he does he’s sitting with Tatiana.” 

Farrah and Tatiana shared a look that meant ‘we’ll debrief later’ before sitting separately. 

As the clock ticked closer to the start of class and the other students began filing in, Tatiana settled on putting her backpack on the empty seat next to her. 

Tatiana was killing time flipping through a magazine when suddenly a shadow was looming over her.

“Your bag’s in my seat”

“Oh, sorry Andrew.” she placed the magazine in carefully trying not to damage the paper before hastily moving the bag to rest by her feet.

He continued glaring at her for a moment for taking his spot beside her. Mr. Clark dimmed the lights to play a video tape and through the entire video she could feel his eyes burning into her, studying her profile. She had heard many things about Andrew Cody through the years, and none of them were good. And now she was stuck with him for an indeterminate amount of time. It wasn’t the first time one of her teacher’s had assigned her to corral one of the rowdier boys in her class and it was unlikely to be the last. She was well familiar with the song and dance. From what she knew about Andrew he wasn’t the run of the mill school bully or class clown. He was worse in a way because he was unpredictable. He rarely attended class, either because he was suspended or playing hooky, and when he did he had a hair-trigger for a temper. Worst of all he was quiet, too quiet where you never quite knew what he was thinking or what bothered him. Tatiana just kept her eyes fixed straight ahead deciding it was best to pretend he wasn’t there.

Mr. Clark flipped the lights back on without warning and was met with groans and students rubbing their eyes. He ignored their protests and passed out worksheets with questions about the video. Tatiana began filling in the answers but paused when she felt the warmth of Andrew’s body heat as he leaned in closer to her.

“I need a pencil.” he said more like a command than a request.

Tatiana wasted no time in fishing one out of her pencil case and handing it to him. She doubted anyone would ever believe her if she mentioned it, but she swore she saw him smirk at the oversized rubber smiley face pencil topper when he took it. It was the first time she really looked at him and she couldn’t help but admire his freckled skin and his dimples that flashed briefly. She also noticed he had the prettiest hazel eyes. She must’ve been looking a little too long because his brows furrowed and his signature scowl appeared.

“What” he bit harshly

“Nothing sorry” she muttered in response.

Tatiana was less than focused for the remainder of class. She wasn’t sure what to make of the boy next to her. Being in close proximity with him made the stories that followed his name harder to believe. Not impossible or improbable, it was just hard to see him as scary. Intense sure but he seemed somewhat harmless, for lack of a better word. 

“Alright, who wants to roll the TV back down to the library?” Mr Clark asked before sitting on the edge of his desk. “No volunteers? You get to leave class five minutes early” 

Tatiana’s hand shot up. She really didn’t want to return it; she just needed air and some space. 

“Okay it’s heavy so you’ll need a partner…” Farrah began rapidly shoving her things into her book bag eager to be reunited with her friend. “Miss Evans settle down, Mr. Cody will be accompanying Tatiana” 

Once again Farrah shot Tatiana a look. Andrew silently and unceremoniously rose from his seat and the duo made their way down the hall. 

 Her escape plan backfired so Tatiana decided to attempt plan b, making small talk. However, Andrew didn’t seem like he’d be particularly interested in shooting the breeze about the weather, or homework, or gossip about their teachers, or really anything she could think of.

“Thanks… for the pencil” he said, voice a little less gruff than the first time she heard him speak

“You’re welcome… um do you prefer to be called Andrew or is Andy okay? Or maybe Drew”

He stopped in his tracks, hand steadying the TV cart from rolling. Once again glaring down at Tatiana “Andy is fine” he continued just looking at her, reading her. 

Tatiana wasn’t sure what to do or say so she tried extending the olive branch a little further by offering up her nickname “you can call me Tati if you want, all my friends do.”

“Are we friends now?” he asked with a glint of humor in his voice 

“We can be…” she mumbled. Once again faltering under his gaze, she found herself staring down at their feet. 

Tatiana didn’t move a muscle until she heard the squeaky wheels of the cart rolling. Once they completed their task they went their separate ways. 

Tatiana practically sprinted back down the hall needing to find Farrah before the bell rang.

“My poor baby,” Farrah sighed, pulling her into a hug. 

“Why is it always me? How come they never stick you on babysitting duty” Tati pouted.

“One, I'm smart enough not to sit in the front of class all the time. And two, you’re too nice to complain.” 

“Shut up” she rolled her eyes knowing it was the truth

“Shut up” Farrah parroted back in a mocking tone

Tatiana had a free period whilst her friends had other classes so she used the time to study. But during lunch they fell into their usual gossip, the day beginning to feel more normal. The cafeteria food was gross as usual, but they were rejuvenated from their time together.

Tati and Farrah walked into their chemistry class arms linked and smiles wide.

“Okay kiddos,” Miss Nelson clapped, getting the students’ attention. “It's a new marking period. Which means new seats and new lab partners.” Tatiana and Farrah wiped fake tears from their eyes and sniffled as they unlinked arms and found new seats. “Girls save the dramatics, you'll see each other later.”

“Teachers pet” Farrah snided, sticking her tongue out at her best friend who of course chose the lab table closest to the front. 

Tatiana stuck her tongue out in response and started getting her belongings out of her book bag. She saw a familiar pair of shoes in front of her bag. She followed the legs up to be greeted by Andrew Cody in front of her for the second time that day. 

“Is anyone sitting with you yet”

“Nope,” she patted the stool next to her “all yours” 

Their science teacher got on with the lesson and before she knew it Tatiana felt someone tapping her with the end of their pencil. She reached back to take the note as subtly as possible. 

“again??? are you kidding me” was scribbled in glittery blue ink with her best friend’s familiar handwriting. 

Tatiana looked a few rows back to Farrah who was making a face that was a combination of disgust and disbelief.

Tati mouthed “it’s fine”  before resuming her notes.

Miss Nelson was a little wacky, sort of like if you combined Bill Nye and Miss Frizzle, and she somehow made even the most complicated parts of the subject seem simple so her class never dragged on like the other periods.

“Alright I want last week’s homework before you leave and then you are free to go.” 

Farrah made her way to the teacher’s desk and dropped her paper in the bin. She waited just outside the door expecting Tatiana to be on her heels as usual. Instead, she saw Tatiana get up to leave before being stopped by Andrew grabbing her wrist. They spoke for a moment before Tatiana finally left.  

Farrah watched Andrew as he followed, of course not producing any homework. She waited until he was a distance away before speaking.

“So what’d he say? Did he like steal your lunch money? Or ask you to do his homework or something?”

“Nothing he was chill, he just was giving me my pencil back from earlier.”

“He was chill, what is he your new best friend or something? Are you two gonna go jump some nerds together later?”

“RE-LAX. Andy’s not that bad”

Farrah held the back of her hand against Tatiana’s forehead “ANDY?!?! Not that bad?! Are you getting a fever or just going insane”

“Fay, stop, he's not bothering me, it's fine.”

Farrah huffed and shook her head “Whatever Tati, your funeral”

“My funeral?”

“Yup.” 

“Well tell my parents to bury me in those earrings I’m never giving back to you then.”

The rest of the week continued that way. Tatiana attempting to befriend Andrew and him barely humoring any conversation.

By Friday Tatiana was starting to take notice that he was strangely truant and punctual. From what she heard you were lucky to see Andrew Cody at school for more than five days in a month let alone in a row. Frankly she wasn’t sure how he wasn’t expelled. So Tatiana and Farrah were gobsmacked to walk into class and find him at his desk before any of the other students, hands folded and sitting straight as a board. His eyes were locked on Tati from the moment she was in the door frame until the moment she sat down. He said nothing to her, nor did he return her smile, he just watched her. Watched her as her conversation fizzled out and she pulled out one of her magazines and waited for the class to start. 

“Why do you always read that crap?”

“Pardon” she squeaked

“10 ways to get him to notice you. Does he love you? Find out for sure. 1000 ways to make a man crazy” he listed deadpan.

She giggled in response “I know the headlines are goofy. But honestly I just buy these for the beauty tips.”

“You don’t need them” he said it more like he was pointing out the obvious than paying a compliment. 

The bell sounding spared her from having to come up with a response. 

She thought she was getting used to Andrew staring at her but she felt a heat that never left her face all class long. 

“Don’t pack up yet we still have a few minutes,” Mr. Clark admonished, “as you know each semester there’s a research project. This term it will be a group project. Your seatmate will be your partner. If I see anything that indicates what’s turned in you will receive an F. Do I make myself clear?” Mr. Clark focused on Tatiana with the last sentence, he was giving her a warning.

“Yes Mr. Clark” the class groaned unanimously

“Good, I'll be assigning you topics next week. You may go” The kids scrambled wanting to be anywhere but stuck with the authoritarian for another second. “Tatiana, stay for a moment.”

“Just Tatiana,” he added, looking at Andrew and Farrah. They looked at each other awkwardly before leaving the room. Farrah was confused as to why Andrew seemed to be following her. 

“Can I help you?” she eyed him suspiciously

“Tati’s locker is this way isn’t it”

“Yeah it’s next to mine…” she broke from his glare and began speeding up wanting to put some distance between them.

Meanwhile Tatiana was unsurprised by why Mr. Clark requested to speak with her. It started with the same you’re a good kid speech her teachers always gave when they were using her as a means to control their troublesome students. 

“Listen Tatiana you’re a very smart girl. You have a bright future ahead of you. That Cody kid however, he probably doesn’t. He’s been behaving since I sat you two together but it won’t last. It never does with him. Don’t try to help him. Don’t try to save him. Just do your work. And if I catch you doing his I will fail you for my entire class do you understand?”

“Sir I don’t how see this is fair...”

“What, asking you not to participate in plagiarism?”

“That’s not what you’re asking me..”

“Then what am I asking for, you tell me.”

“I dunno… to”

“You dunno,” he interjected condescendingly.

“Mr. Clark I…” she stammered

“Listen if you can figure out what exactly you’re trying to say we can discuss it Monday. Have a good day” he gave her a disingenuous grin and gestured towards the door. 

Tatiana sighed wearily, resigning to her fate. Her head was hung as she made her way to her locker only to find Andrew leaning against it waiting for her.

“What was that about?” 

“Nothing”

“You’re not a good liar.” he replied simply. Before giving her room to switch out her books and binders. 

“What days work best for you to work on the project?” she asked happy to have the metal door acting as a partition between them

“What do you mean?”

“Well I usually work after school on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and all day on the weekends. So Tuesday and Thursday are the best days for me but if that’s inconvenient for you we can figure something else out.” She took a deep breath before closing the locker and facing him, expecting him to be shooting daggers. Instead there was a softness in how he was looking at her, like he was surprised she was considering what he wanted.

“That’s fine”

“Tuesday and Thursday?”

He just nodded

“Okay we can meet in the library after last period, it stays open until 4:30. Oh but there’s no bus after…”

“That’s fine, I drive to school. I’ll drop you off at home.” 

“That’s so sweet Andy, thank you” she put a hand on his shoulder but quickly removed it feeling his muscles tense, “I have to go but I’ll see you later in chemistry”

Tatiana recited the conversation to her friends during lunch.

“You’re gonna tell him where you live” Farrah asked in disbelief

“What he was being nice,”

“Yeah and I’m sure Hannibal Lecter seemed pretty cool before he started eating people” Fallon suggested

“Hey I thought you were the nice one” 

“We take turns” the twins answered simultaneously

“Andrew is a twin too, right?” Tatiana asked 

“Yeah Julia is his sister,” Fallon replied, pointing to a girl sitting near the exit, “she’s in a few of my classes. Barely shows up to school either and when she does she never talks.”

“She looks sweet,” Tatiana said, looking back at her one last time.

“Ugh, Fay’s right you need to be sent to the looney bin” Fallon growned

“Seriously you’re buggin’ why do you care so much about the Codys all of a sudden?” Farrah chimed in.

“Well Andrew’s not that bad so…” 

“You don’t even know him,” Fallon sighed, “Look, all that stuff about him and his sister. They’re not rumors. It’s stuff people saw with their own eyes. We saw him beat someone up for looking at him too long freshman year. He’s bad news.”

“Nevermind” 

[shockercoco]

Unwanted Help

Feyd Rautha x sister!reader

Warnings - nothing just fluff

Word count - 2587

a/n - it's my birthday, so i thought I might as well get this out of the drafts and give you guys a gift too :) also let's just pretend Feyd never killed his mother and his upbringing wasn't so terrible lol. Thank you guys for all the love and enjoy :)

“So, how do I look?” you ask as you step out of your walk-in closet. 

Your mother and your brother Feyd had been waiting in your bedroom to see your dress for the debutante ball; Feyd was looking out the window with his hands clasped behind his back, while your mother made herself comfortable at the edge of your bed.

You do a little spin as you walk out of your closet, for the theatrics of course, before turning to face your family. A smile instantly appeared on your mothers face as she clapped her hands, while Feyd turned his attention away from the window to give you a questionable look. It was obvious he wasn’t a fan of the dress.

“It’s gorgeous, my love,” your mother beams as she walks over to gather your hands in hers.

“I’ve seen better looks on the commoners wandering the streets,” Feyd declares as his eyebrows furrow, looking at the fabric like it was one of the ugliest things he’s ever seen. Your face drops and your mouth falls ajar at Feyd’s statement.

“Feyd-Rautha!” your mother exclaims, scowling at your brother.

“I’m sorry, I thought she was asking for our opinions,” he dully states with a shrug.

“An opinion doesn’t mean tearing her down,” your mother retorts. “Besides, there are only a handful of people that could afford the seamstress that designed your sister's dress.”

You pull your hands out from your mother’s grasp and walk over to the mirror on the wall to see your appearance for yourself. She follows and stands behind you as you look at your reflection, while Feyd keeps his place by the window. The gown was everything you could imagine and more – and it should be, given the fact that you gave the seamstress explicit directions in order to bring your visions to life. You turn to the side and assess the back of you before turning back and running a hand down your dress.

“It’s perfect,” you say, mainly to yourself, then turn to frown at your brother, “You’re an imbecile, Feyd.” 

He just rolls his eyes in response.

Deep down, Feyd did appreciate the way you looked, but all he could think of was the amount of men that were going to be looking at you later tonight. His skin crawled at the thought. He made a mental note to make sure to keep a blade under his robe.

You also knew that Feyd wasn’t completely disgusted with the way you look – even though it would take a lot for him to say that out loud – so his opinion didn’t affect you too much. Feyd was a huge softie when it came to you, but also extremely protective.

“That seamstress could’ve made you something that wasn’t so…revealing. There’s no doubt people will be looking,” Feyd says.

He was referring to the way the dress accentuated your breasts, and how the corset helped give your body an hourglass figure.

“That’s kind of the point. The whole point of a debutante ball is to help a woman find a suitor, you know, and of course to show off to everyone else,” your mother smirks at the end.

Feyd’s eye twitched at the idea of you marrying some pathetic man.

“Does father know?” Feyd asks.

“Of course he does, and he’s fine with it because he understands,” your mother tells him. Feyd frowned at her response. “Now, enough of this. Let’s leave her be until it’s time to go.”

Your mother started to walk to the door of your bedroom, and when she noticed Feyd hadn’t moved, she whirls around to give him a look. Feyd rolls his eyes, but then moves to follow her out of your room.

Later that day when you and your family were walking into the building, you felt excited and nervous. Most of the public outings you experienced had to do with Feyd’s games or business meetings off planet, so you rarely enjoyed more casual outings. 

It didn’t take long for you to start socializing with some of the other girls that you did know – they were princesses of lords or barons your father had done business with in the past. They were kind and easy to converse with, but you found yourself having to listen to them putting your brother on a pedestal; they talked about how strong and undefeated he was, or they talked about how attractive they found him and who they thought could get with him first. They didn’t seem to care about the fact that his sister was standing there talking with them as well, or maybe they did and was hoping you would mention one of them to Feyd. You wouldn’t.

There was of course that one group of girls that formed a clique to gossip about everyone in attendance, like how much each family was worth and which one had the higher place in society, but they also made sure to discuss who was dressed the best and who had the best chance of finding a suitor. You saw a couple of them whispering and pointing at you, but you just rolled your eyes because you knew each one of their backstories, such as the fact that a few of them belonged to families that were going bankrupt. There was no doubt they were projecting their own insecurities.

It also didn’t take long for men to approach you to strike up conversation, or to ask you to join them in the middle for a dance. Those who said they would be back later to get to know you more never did. You just figured that those men weren’t really interested in you.

Little did you know, Feyd was watching you the whole time, but he mostly cared for the men who had the audacity to approach you. He was standing in a group of well known men, your guys’ father amongst them, discussing politics and whatever else they felt was important. Feyd, of course, had to chip in every now and again, but that didn’t stop him from keeping you in his sight and leaving the conversation when needed.

“May I have this dance,” a gentleman known as Prince Killian approached you, his hand extended out for you to take.

Apparently, he was next in line to inherit his father’s title as lord –  a man who had recently gotten sick with an incurable illness.

“You may,” you smile as you hold out your hand for him to take. Why not, right? He was a kind and humble man, according to what you heard from word of mouth, but was too gentle and soft to take his father’s place. He was also awfully easy on the eyes.

Prince Killian led you to the center of the packed ballroom and guided you through the music. He made sure to ask about your interests and your hobbies, what occupied your time during your days. He even made sure to compliment your dress. His eyes remained on yours and he kept a gentle smile on his face the whole time. You enjoyed your time with him, and the feeling seemed to be reciprocated on his end.

When you had to excuse yourself because your mother wanted to pull you aside, you didn’t notice Feyd swiftly and smoothly making his way over to Prince Killian. Feyd had been waiting for this moment since he saw the two of you getting very close during your dance. He saw the way Prince Killian looked at you, and there was no doubt in Feyd’s mind that he was interested in you.

Feyd didn’t approve, Prince Killian was too soft as a man after all. Did you really want to be tied down to someone with that kind of a reputation? Would he be able to protect you? Feyd felt disgusted just looking at him. He had to stop this relationship from blossoming even further.

“What is your business with my sister?” Feyd asked the prince. He had snuck up on him from behind, so Killian had gotten startled. He faced Feyd and tried his best to keep his cool as Feyd stood there expressionless with his hands clasped behind his back. Feyd intimated him, he intimated everyone.

“Nothing of ill intent, I promise you, na-baron,”Prince Killian says to him and holds his hands behind his back, mimicking Feyd and trying to seem unaffected.

“Is that so?” asks Feyd while giving him a once-over. “So you’ve taken a liking to her then?”

“Yes, I have,” Prince Killian nods.

“And you would like to pursue her?”

“With your permission, of course,” Prince Killian offers a smile.

“How unfortunate because you don’t have it,” Feyd gives him an insincere smile.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t question me. I’ll-,” Feyd stops when he sees you enter the room, scanning the crowd for the prince in front of him. “I don’t want to see you around her again, for the rest of the night and for the rest of your life, however long that may be,” Feyd tells him before walking away, not giving Prince Killian a chance to say anything else.

Prince Killian gulps as he watches Feyd leave. He decides it would be the wisest to listen to your brother and leave you alone. Princes Killian goes up to his mother to tell him he doesn’t feel well and that he wants to leave. His mother is upset, but agrees to leave. 

You don’t see him leave the room as you continue to look around, but Feyd does. He stops a smirk from forming on his face as he joins his father in another conversation. 

Your heart drops once you don’t find Prince Killian anywhere. After all, he did promise to find you after your mother was done with you. Did you really read him wrong? Did he not like you just like the other men you had met throughout the night? Was there something wrong with you?

Tears form in your eyes as you begin to doubt yourself, but you quickly hold them back, not wanting to be seen crying in public. You go to find your mother once again to tell her that you were ready to leave. The whole evening had basically been a complete waste of your time. Your mother notices the difference in your mood, but doesn’t question as goes to ask the car to be brought around and gather Feyd and your father.

You spent that night locked in your room crying, feeling defeated. Your mother came to talk to you, but you didn’t open the door, feeling too embarrassed to explain. It was your fault for getting your hopes up in the first place, wasn’t it? A couple of your favorite lady’s maids also came by to check on you and asked from the other side of the door if there was anything you could do, but at the moment there wasn’t.

You stayed in that gloomy mood for the next couple of days before deciding it was time to get over it. You were a Harkonnen, after all.

About a week later, you were sitting in the library reading like you usually do at some point in the day. Today though, you were interrupted by your mother barging through the library doors with an unpleasant expression on her face, her gown flowing with her steps with your brother not too far behind. You thought you had done something wrong, causing you to replay the past few days in your mind, but you couldn’t find the problem.

That’s because you weren’t the problem.

“Mother, I don’t think this is necessary. There’s no need to get her upset all over again,” Feyd says. Is that panic in his voice?

Your mother holds up her hand to stop him from saying anything else.

Feyd had walked past your room several times, hearing your cries flood out of your room. He would stop outside of your door and wondered if he should knock and go talk to you, but each time he decided not to. He wasn’t a fan of hearing you in pain, but he figured there was no use in saying anything because the damage was done.

It got to the point where he felt guilty so he decided to confess to his mother what he had done, not thinking she would react this way. Though when the words fell out of his mouth, she was fuming; she had every right to be.

“Tell her what you just told me, or I will,” your mother glares at Feyd. 

You look between them in confusion, deciding it was best to put your book aside. Feyd’s jaw tensed as he stared his mother down, not really wanting to say it aloud again. He finally gives into her gaze and looks away.

“Feyd?” you question as you watch the wheels turn inside his head.

He shakes his head as if to shake the thought away, but of course it remains. Might as well just get it over with.

“The reason why Prince Killian didn’t return to you that night at the ball, or any of the men that had approached you, was because of me,” Feyd tells you. You can’t see it, but his fists are clenched behind his back.

“Tell her how you threatened them to never go near her again,” your mother tells him. Your eyes widen as you look over at your brother who seemed to be uncomfortable. 

Feyd lets out a frustrated sigh before looking you in the eye. “It’s true.”

You don’t know whether to be angry or relieved. “All this time I thought it was my fault, but it was you?” you ask, but it’s honestly more of a statement. Feyd nods in response.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” your mother asks him, and Feyd avoids her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, and he means it no matter how hard it was for him to say it. You can tell also, but that doesn’t make it all better.

“And?” your mother prods, her arms folded across her chest. 

“I will make it right, if you will let me, of course,” he says.

And he did. The next day Prince Killian had arrived at your home, by the request of your father, knowing he wouldn’t come if it was Feyd who had asked. You weren’t entirely thrilled because you weren’t sure if he would still feel the same towards you, if there were any feelings there in the first place. Your worry quickly turned into happiness as the two of you reconnected with Prince Killian telling you what you wanted to hear.

Your mother and father watched from afar as he bent down to kiss your hand before standing straight again, your hand still in his. Feyd was also there beside them, not entirely pleased with the sight in front of him, but as long as you were happy he would have to learn to deal with it. Of course if Prince Killian ever decided to hurt you or stop pursuing you, he would have to take matters into his own hands.

“This is the man, huh?” your father asks with a tilt of his head. 

It brought Feyd joy that his father was also unsure about the man standing in front of you.

“Would you both quit it and be happy for her,” your mother scowled at them both before fixing her face as you turned around to face your family.

[pengweng-quack]

Bloodbound

Carlisle Cullen x Human!OC

Summary: Place Carlisle in the Edward situation of falling in love with a human, and see what happens

Chapter 12/?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12

Notes:

This is on Ao3 under the same title and username if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54527830)

Leave your thoughts (or don't, your choice) in the comments, I enjoy reading through your thoughts :)

Word Count: 2587 words

General warning: I used some religious references in this story so read with caution if you're not so keen into reading that

TW for this chapter: drinking

PM or Comment to be added on the taglist for this one!

Masterlist

“And I promise that starting today, I will never leave you.” Carlisle whispered, pulling away from the hug and softly kissing her on the lips

With the kiss serving as a quiet declaration of his unwavering devotion and love, he hadn't expected Celine's reaction. A mixture of need, hope, and nostalgia rushed through him as their lips connected. He gave the gentle embrace his whole being in that brief instant, hoping she would know how deeply devoted he was.

Their hearts beat in unison, creating a tapestry of unfulfilled promises and shared memories with every beat. He lingered in the last of their connection's warmth as they parted, silently hoping that she had sensed his love's resonance resonating deep within her.

Pulling away from the kiss, Carlisle gently wiped away the tears that stained Celine’s cheeks, ensuring to leave tender pecks after each tear was wiped away, a silent reassurance of his presence and affection.

“I want to properly court you.” Carlisle whispered, their face only mere centimeters away from touching again

“I didn’t do it properly the first time. But I want to show efforts in pursuing you, I want to show you that I’m actually into you instead of just being with you because of this vampire mate thing. I want to show you just how much I am yours.” He continued, leaving small kisses around Celine’s face

Celine felt like laughing at Carlisle right now. She found it ironic that he hadn't considered the possibility that she was simply prioritizing her own well-being. She considered herself to be a rational woman, and she knew that her best course of action for the time being was to remain with the Cullens until the Volturi fiasco was resolved, at which point she planned to leave them.

Because why would she stay with beings that showed her how easy it was for them to leave her?

Everyone knew and agreed that the best decision now was to get Celine to live with them, prioritizing both her safety and her gradual adjustment to their way of life prior to her transformation. Carlisle graciously offered his room to her, allowing her to design it however she likes so that she’ll have a piece of her humanity in their home.

The people at the hospital slowly figured out that Doctor Cullen and Nurse Celine have gone back to their old ways, with Carlisle even going back and using his side of the office. No one knew what was going on between the two of them, all they knew was that Nurse Celine appeared slightly friendlier toward everyone compared to her demeanor before Carlisle's return.

Celine’s nonchalance to Carlisle was something that he couldn’t ignore though. She was kind to everyone at home, but when it comes to him, there’s this subtle coldness that Carlisle could feel. She was quick to engage herself in a conversation with any of them when they get home, and when he’s about to initiate any conversations with her, she was quick to call it a night.

Celine rarely reached out to him in regard of being a vampire as well, always choosing to ask Edward or Rosalie about the diet and all that she would need to know once she becomes one of them. It lightly stung his feelings that Celine wasn’t asking him questions instead but he didn’t worry much, thinking that Edward and Rosalie are just better at giving objective answers to her questions than he would probably be.

Because why would he be concerned when he has all of eternity to win her heart again?

~~

After a successful surgery resulting in the patient's discharge with just a scar, Doctor Cullen extended an invitation to everyone involved in the operation for a night out. Something that even Celine couldn’t get a grasp of why he was doing it.

“You all deserve it.” Carlisle only replied with a shrug when Celine asked, sending her a smile before reading the report about the surgery.

“You don’t even drink? Or eat for that matter.” Celine asked, sitting on the chair opposite of his

“When has that been an issue for us?” He asked back, averting his gaze away from his laptop and to her, his eyebrow raised

“I mean, what if they notice?” Celine asked

“Then I’ll just say that I’m your designated driver for the night.” Carlisle answered like he’s already thought of that specific alibi “Maybe I’ll even drive them home if they’re beyond definition of drunk.”

“I’m sure Nurse Grace would love that.” Celine said, pulling the laptop so she could have a read of the report

Celine pretends to not notice the nurses' evident enthusiasm whenever Carlisle is present. She remains seemingly indifferent to the way Carlisle's angelic smiles brighten their days, purposely ignoring the fact that his smile is wider when directed to her. She always just ignores the bubble of jealousy forming in her whenever he does that, deciding to just focus on her job.

‘Because why would it matter if he flirted back to them or not? It’s not like I cared.’ Her mind would always remind her

“Jealous?” Carlisle asked playfully, teasing in his tone

“Just telling you, don’t assume too much.” Celine replied cooly, ignoring Carlisle

‘You have a plan, stick to it.’ Her mind hissed to her. Though the blush forming on her cheeks says otherwise

“You have nothing to worry for, my love.” Carlisle comforted, standing up and going in front of her, towering over Celine as she was seated on the chair “I am all yours.”

“I know.” Celine replied quietly, still focused on the report and purposely ignoring how her heart is beating faster at his declaration

“I love saying that I’m all yours.” He replied with a grin on his face, kneeling to be on the same height as she was “Makes me feel complete.”

“Don’t be too dependent on me.” Celine warned him. She wanted to hurt him, but not to the extent of him reaching Edward status when Bella was still human and was presumed dead.

“You make it hard to not be.”

The day of the celebration has come, with everyone in the operation talking about it in the group chat. Celine opted to ride with Carlisle, eliciting a smile from him as they made their way to the agreed-upon bar for the gathering

The same bar that held Celine and Carlisle’s first date.

The rest of the family all watched as Carlisle’s car grew smaller in the distance, a smile on their face as they could see Celine slowly warm up to Carlisle again. They only had 6 months until her 30th birthday, and it seemed like Celine hasn’t really warmed up to the idea of being a vampire, only seeing it as a responsibility that she had to take for everyone’s safety.

“Do you think that 6 months will be enough?” Bella asked quietly, looking at Edward

“If Alice’s vision doesn’t change, then 6 months will be more than enough for Celine to welcome Carlisle back into her heart. Which would make the transformation less of a responsibility for her but more of a desire to spend eternity with him.” Edward answered his wife earnestly

Edward hid Celine’s plan from everyone, confident in Carlisle's ability to regain her trust and affection. However, observing the slow progress between them and Celine's persistent intention to leave Carlisle and their family once the Volturi threat diminished, Edward recognized the need for action.

“Family meeting.” Edward called loudly, getting everyone that was about to do their own thing to immediately go to the living room

The four of them were enjoying the night out and Carlisle felt happy that his initiation was the cause of it. Celine, Sean, Eunice, and Grace were sharing a bottle of vodka, but he couldn't overlook the fact that Celine seemed to be consuming more shots of vodka than the others, despite their shared bottle.

“No drinkin’ tonight, Doc?” Grace asked him, passing a glass for him to drink “One shot wouldn’t hurt.”

“Not a drinker.” Celine answered in a matter-of-fact tone for him, grabbing the glass that she was offering to Carlisle and drinking it “Learned that when we went out on a date.”

Sean, Eunice, and Grace all exchanged surprised glances, causing Celine to furrow her eyebrows in confusion at them as to why they looked at her like that, before realizing what she accidentally just said

“Whoops?” Celine asked, a sheepish grin on her face as she looked at Carlisle

“I did ask her out on a date.” Carlisle continued for her, knowing that her drunken state would not be able to find a proper alibi on what she said “Just one, then I backed away. I realized that I wasn’t ready for the love that she deserves.”

“Is that why you left?” Sean asked curiously

“No, that’s a different discussion. A very private one.” Carlisle answered, his eyes following Celine as she goes past the line of tipsy

“I wish you didn’t leave.” Celine muttered so quietly that Sean, who was next to her, didn’t hear her

“You are so drunk.” Eunice laughed at her, giggling as Celine grabs the whole bottle and chugged a lot of it before putting it down on the table

“Maybe if I was drunk, I’ll forget things.” Celine joked with a drunken smile on her face. But Carlisle can see behind her drunken smile that her eyes held so much pent-up emotions

"I remember how fuckin’ cold you got when Doc Carlisle bounced those first couple weeks." Grace started, getting Celine to sit up and look at her with don’t-you-dare eyes

“Tell me, I’m curious.” Carlisle said, flashing a smile to Grace that was sure to get her to tell the story that she started to tell, to Celine’s dismay

“She was so cold and strict.” She started before taking another shot of the drink

“You know, she's gotten all...like, real calculating since you split. Too smart, too tough to handle, Doc. And, like, even though we all can't stand Doc Daniel, he's the only one who can really get under her skin, you know? Like, brings out some different vibe from her, not just all authority and stuff. She was pretty rational before, but now? It felt like you took her heart with you when you left.”

“Grace, that’s enough.” Sean warned her. Carlisle was so engrossed with what Grace what saying that he didn’t notice Celine finish the remaining content of the bottle of vodka that they had and had ordered a second one already

Carlisle stood up immediately and carried his chair to sit next to Celine, her blood still being intoxicating but also had a hint of something else in it because of the alcohol. She was quiet, and her face was redder than usual. She glanced at Carlisle, managing a loopy grin before resting her head on Sean's shoulder.

“Tired?” Carlisle asked Celine softly, fixing the strand of her hair that fell in front of her face

“Drunk.” Sean answered for her playfully “I think you should take her home.”

Carlisle scooped Celine up with his arms, letting her rest on his chest.

“Keep the tab open for the night, all your drinks tonight are on me.” He told the three, earning cheers from them “I’ll take her home and call it a night for myself, I think.”

“All goods boss.” Eunice teased, mock saluting to him “Thank you for making sure that we’re all off tomorrow too.”

“Anything for my team.” Carlisle said to them with a smile, before standing up and smiling goodbye to them.

Carlisle quickly walked to his car, making sure that he gets Celine in the car all buckled up before he even gets in to drive home.

“Have I told you that you’re a really shit person right now, Grace?” Celine mumbled as Carlisle started the car to drive them home “He didn't need to hear that. Honestly, I doubt he'd give a damn about it anyway.”

“Why do you think that?” Carlisle asked her

“Because I just know.” Celine answered, crossing her arms and letting out a huff of anger “He walked away from me so easily, why would he give a damn about what I've become since he left?”

“Did you ever know why he left?” He asked her again.

Despite feeling conflicted, Carlisle knew he needed to seize this opportunity to understand Celine's true feelings. He felt compelled to understand her true emotions, even if it meant facing the painful reality of that he was losing her.

Hell, he’ll even fight the Volturi if it offered even a glimmer of hope for Celine to be able to retain her humanity.

“He said something about needing to protect me or whatever.” She answered

“You know what was messed up? I needed him more than he needed me! I needed him every time I wanted coffee because he’s the only one that knows the specific measurements for my taste. I needed him every time I would get any sort of sprain on my body, because he always knew what to do to ease me, and because I knew that if I ever fell, he’d be there to catch me, always. I needed him when I felt insecure, because— damn it, he never gave me a reason to doubt or question myself.”

“I needed him, in so many ways that I wish I knew how to express.” She cried in her seat, covering her face “I didn’t need protecting, I just needed him.”

“Did you love him?” Carlisle asked again

“God— I wish there was a deeper word than love that I can use to tell him what my heart screams.” She sobbed, taking deep breaths in attempt to stop her tears from flowing

“He was so gentle, so kind, so patient. He lifted me up so high, I felt like I was flying from all the love that he showered me with.” She continued, her words digging deeper into Carlisle, making him realize just how much he actually fucked up

“He came back though, didn’t he?” Carlisle asked, wondering what she thought of that

“For an obligation to me.” Celine drunkenly laughed “He wouldn’t have come back anymore if he didn’t need to.”

Carlisle wanted to argue, tell her that she was wrong, tell her that she was never an obligation to him. But he understood that this was coming from a place of pent-up anger, and the fact that he did leave her.

“What do you plan now?” Carlisle asked quietly, slowing down to hear what she has to say before they get home

“I wanted to hurt him.” Celine answered, wiping the tear streams that were on her cheeks “But whenever I see him, whenever I feel his tenderness, whenever I feel his love for me, it’s like my mind stops for a second to question if I was doing the right thing. If hurting him the way that he hurt me was the right way to go.”

“Do you still love him?” Carlisle asked, some sort of hopefulness in him

“Not once did I stop.” Celine answered drunkenly, a grin forming on her face “It’ll always be him. No man will be able to love me the way he did.”

“Do you want to hurt him?” He asked as he sees the house in view, realizing that Celine will one way or another figure out that it wasn’t Grace that was talking to her this whole time

“I have to. It's the only way I'll feel better about everything.” Celine answered, a strain in her tone as she says it.

Carlisle couldn't help but hope that the strain in Celine's voice was a sign that she didn't want to hurt him. Perhaps, buried beneath her words, there was a glimmer of reluctance, a flicker of hesitation that hinted at her true feelings.

[whencyclopedia]

Siege of Fort Meigs

The Siege of Fort Meigs (28 April to 9 May 1813) was a major engagement on the northwestern frontier of the War of 1812. It saw a US army under Major General William Henry Harrison, holed up in the hastily built Fort Meigs, withstand a siege by British and Native American forces despite heavy casualties.

Siege of Fort Meigs

D.W. Kellogg & Co. (Public Domain)

Background

On 16 August 1812, the US outpost of Fort Detroit surrendered to a British and Native American force after a brief and nearly bloodless siege. At a stroke, the British had seized control of the entire Michigan Territory, which they could now use as a staging ground for an invasion of western US states like Ohio or Kentucky. Even worse from a US perspective, the Siege of Detroit had emboldened several previously neutral Native American nations to side with the British and begin to attack US outposts and settlements. Many of these northwestern Native Americans had been driven from their lands by the US after the Battle of Fallen Timbers (20 August 1794) and were eager to reclaim what they had lost; indeed, the British promised to help the Native Americans set up their own, independent confederacy on lands west of the Ohio River. Such a confederacy would serve British interests by acting as a buffer state between Canada and the US.

The US was anxious to prevent a hostile, British-backed Native American confederacy from arising on its western frontier and knew that it had to balance the scales by retaking Detroit. Such an important task was entrusted to William Henry Harrison, the popular former governor of the Indiana Territory and the hero of the Battle of Tippecanoe (7 November 1811). Harrison was given the rank of major general and placed in command of the newly formed Army of the Northwest, comprised mainly of raw volunteers from Kentucky and Ohio serving six-month enlistments. In early October, this army set out from Fort Defiance in Ohio, but bad weather and poor logistics slowed its advance to a crawl. Before long, winter was setting in, and Harrison begrudgingly concluded that he would be unable to assault Detroit before spring. He ordered the advance column of his army, under Brigadier General James Winchester, to continue marching to the Maumee Rapids (near present-day Toledo, Ohio) where they would begin setting up camp for the winter.

Winchester's men arrived at the Maumee Rapids in mid-January 1813. Having been on the march for weeks by this point, most of these men were cold, wet, and hungry; many of their enlistments were about to expire, and they longed to fight a battle before being sent home if only to make their long miles of miserable marching worth it. They would soon get an opportunity, as word reached their camp that a detachment of Canadian militia had occupied Frenchtown, a small community on the River Raisin in Michigan, and was harassing its inhabitants. The Americans begged Winchester to let them march to Frenchtown's rescue. Winchester, enticed by the prospect of an easy victory, relented and sent several companies of Kentuckians into Michigan.

The British-American War of 1812

Simeon Netchev (CC BY-NC-ND)

On 18 January, the Kentuckians easily routed the Canadians, causing an elated Winchester to move the rest of his column to Frenchtown as well. Once there, the inexperienced Americans grew complacent, neglecting to post adequate pickets or fortify their position. Therefore, the Americans were caught by surprise when a British and Native American force, under Sir Henry Procter, counterattacked just before dawn on 22 January. The Americans were defeated, and many were killed in the fighting. Of the survivors, those who could walk were taken across the Detroit River to Amherstburg as prisoners, while those too wounded to move were left behind in Frenchtown. That night, many of these wounded would be massacred by Potawatomi warriors allied with the British.

Continue reading...

[landoom]

So, I'm finally here with all my thoughts about this video... It will be a long (and hard) ride!

Oscar is wearing a feathery boa

Thighs on full display with somee great shots of the

30sec in and Oscar is already laughing at whatever Lando is saying

45sec in and Oscar is saying "I feel like a woman"...

...and Lando wasn't ready for that!

Giggles...

Stares...

1.30 and Oscar is laughing harder...

So much effort put in finding the "hair" lyrics

More giggles...

Lando looknig at Oscar when saying "Love story"

Lando looking at Oscar when saying "You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess"

Lando saying "baby just say... " and not finishing the sentence...

...only for Oscar to do it with the cutest "yes" ever

And Lando being all happy he did it

More stares...

Oscar's tongue coming out when he look amorously at Lando (episode 3457)

Oscar saying "Beautiful" and we all know he's talking about Lando

Lando hitting Oscar's arm (that slap sound!!!)

Oscar singing with his eyes closed...

Another "beautiful" from Oscar

Around 5min30, they are just mimicking each other's position

More giggles from Oscar

Oscar just letting his head fall back... (Lando, please, bite that neck for us!!)

Lando just in awe of Oscar's voice!

Another head falling back from Oscar!

A "beautiful" from Lando this time!

Beautiful gaze exchange on the Johnny Cash part

How they decided, without words, to read a line each in turns...

A third head falling back... Oscar just laughing with his whole body as something that's not even that funny (epsiode 2587)

Oscar doubling over

Oscar's hand in hair

Oscar looking at Lando... like he's doing for probably more than half of the vid!

Oscar being a Lil Nas X fan... and an obvious inside joke between the two of them

Oscar looking at Lando while saying "I'm gonna ride 'til I can't no more" (like they probably did so while listening to that song!!)

The inflatable guitar conveniently hiding Oscar's crotch

Both of them having watched Hannah Montana

Lando having X factor references

More gazes...

Lando lipsyncing to Myley Cyrus

Oscar wanting more of that apparently

Another "beautiful" from Oscar

More giggles...

Oscar laughing with is whole body again

No more guitar but the boa is now on Oscar's crotch...Not nearly hiding the bump there!!

Lando Norris bi-sitting

Oscar spending the whole end of the vid looking at Lando

Their cute faces at the end!

[ao3feed-nanago]

A Day in the Life of a Slut Malewife

by jumix Before marrying his husband, Satoru couldn’t have cared less about such things, but these days all he craves are Kento’s cock and his cum. Of course, marriage isn’t all about his wants. He endeavors to be the perfect wife, both in appearance and in practice. malewife mayhem day 2—stepford wives Words: 2587, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Malewife Mayhem 2k24 Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M, Multi Characters: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru Relationships: Gojo Satoru/Nanami Kento Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, for horny purposes, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Implied Mind Break, Mildly Dubious Consent, Crossdressing, Forced Feminization, Cock Cages, Sex Toys Under Clothing, degradation kink, (boy)pussy pumping, Anal Sex, Nipple Piercings, Gratuitous Smut via https://ift.tt/ZHP0DMl

[fanfictionfaberrycentral]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor Additional Tags: Santa Baby, Oral Sex, Kitchen Sex, Lena has no idea what she's in for Summary:

Lena sees an ad for lingerie that Kara would love. She has to buy it once she thinks about all the ways her girlfriend will appreciate her purchase.

[littlebeethings]

Beneath the Ice Lies a Spark: Chapter III

Pairing: adult!Shoto Todoroki x f!Reader Word count: 2587 Tags: arranged marriage, aged up, slow burn, eventual smut Summary: You came to UA to master your elemental weaving quirk and become the pro hero you were born to be. He came to prove to his father he wasn't what he was bred and trained to be. It only took a single moment where your powers collide to catch Endeavor's attention. An arranged marriage follows, one created with the ultimate heir in mind. You just want connection, even if it's without love. He wants distance, even if fate has other plans. Taglist: @kimsrie Chapter II | Chapter IV | Masterlist | AO3

Following the UA Sports Festival, Shoto knew he had to mend a relationship that had long been broken. While you had forced his fire from him, Midoriay had said some things that made Shoto think of his fire a little differently. The memories of childhood, training with his father, and the things done to his mother still clung to the flames. But perhaps he could one day separate his fathers actions from the power within him. 

“That girl you're up against,” Endeavor said to Shoto just before the battle. Your name out of his fathers mouth made Shoto’s blood boil. “She told me to tell you good luck.”

“Don’t ever say her name,” Shoto said, before walking onto the field.

Even now, thinking about his father being around you made him burn hot with anger. He didn’t want Endeavor anywhere near you. You were powerful, Shoto admitted to himself. You were also kind and smart. You worked hard to train your body and quirk to become a pro hero. Thinking only of you, Shoto’s chest warmed not in anger, but something else. Something he couldn’t decide yet. So he covered it with ice.

Shoto arrived at his home early that morning. His sister, Fuyumi greeted him at the door. She stood there, watching as he took his shoes off. She wasn’t sure what to say. There were so many things she wanted to talk about, but she settled on congratulating him for coming in second at the Sports Festival.

Shoto arranged his shoes neatly next to Fuyumi and Natsuo’s pairs. He set his backpack down as well before sliding into the pair of house slippers that wait for him every Saturday morning. Endeavor’s slippers were waiting as they always do. Shoto made it a point to only come home for breakfast on Saturdays when his father would be out.

Shoto thanked his sister, but quickly changed the subject to her week.

As they walked to the dining room, Fuyumi told Shoto about her kids. They weren’t hers in the normal since, but to Fuyumi, her students were her kids. She told him about the funny things the kids had said the previous week, laughing as she replayed the moments.

Shoto, while stone faced, inside the heart that he kept locked away while at school, was melting a bit. He loved that his sister was happy. That she found joy in nurturing the next generation. He wondered if he could ever do such things. 

He thought not. 

Natsuo was already sitting down at the table with his fiancée when Shoto and Fuyumi came in. Natsuo had recently started his residency at Jaku Hospital. He also made it a point to come visit his sister at home on Saturdays. It wasn’t until recently that the two oldest Todoriki siblings started to grow close to their younger brother. It was important to Shoto that he got to know his siblings after he got out from under his father. 

It took Shoto some time to not feel like the little boy he used to be, watching his siblings play and hang out while he watched from the balcony. Sometimes it still felt like he was still up on that balcony. Today was one of those days. He couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday's events, but most importantly he couldn’t stop thinking about the stop he would make after breakfast.

Shoto’s mind finally came back to present in the tail end of the conversation Fuyumi was having with Natsuo’s fiancée about the upcoming secret nuptials and plans to start a family.

“So, Shoto,” Natsuo started, taking a bite of his pancakes. “How are you feeling after that win?”

“I got second place,” Shoto replied, dryly.

“You did win against that girl, what was her name?” Fuyumi said, thinking intently as though she was searching through a filing cabinet for your name.

Shoto cleared his throat, shifting a bit as he said your name. Fuyumi repeated it with a smile.

“She was awesome,” Natsuo said. “Are you two together?“

The table bounced a little off the ground as if someone had kicked another. Natsuo choked and glared at his partner who simply smiled at Shoto.

“Are you classmates?” She asked.

Shoto nodded. “We are in the same class.”

“You seemed pretty close to her,” Natsuo said. 

“She’s just in my class. That’s all.”

Fuyumi and Natsuo share a glance. They wish they knew him more and that he would actually talk to them about personal things. It’s always about school or what is going on in their lives. Shoto never talked about his life.

“Well, she seems very smart. You should bring her sometime,” Fuyumi said. “I’ll make us all some soba.”

Shoto wanted out of this conversation, so he asked Natsuo about his residency. That conversation took them to the finish line of breakfast. While he never enjoyed talking about himself, Shoto did enjoy listening to his siblings' stories of their lives.

After breakfast was cleaned up, Shoto tucked his slippers away, slipped into his shoes, and grabbed his backpack. 

“You aren’t staying to study for a little bit?” Fuyumi asked.

“No, I have to make another stop before I head back to campus.”

“A stop? Where?”

“The hospital.”

“You’re going to see mom? You need dads permission.”

“I don’t need anything from him.”

Natsuo, who was leaning against the wall, agreed with Shoto. Earning a small glare from his sister. 

Fuyumi meant well. She even understood where her brothers came from when it came to their father. After losing her mother, Fuyumi wanted so badly for everyone to eventually find their way back together. As a family. She wanted her father’s approval and her mothers warmth. 

“Do you want us to come along?” She asked.

“No,” Shoto said, opening the door. “I need to do this alone.”

Spring was giving way to Summer. The cherry blossoms were leaving and everything was turning a lush green. A lot of people seemed to be out enjoying the sunshine. 

Shoto tried to take the quieter streets but no street was completely empty. Kids played with their bouncy balls or we’re walking with their parents. 

A little kid yelled at his mom excitedly and pointed to Shoto. He explained to his mom Shoto’s powers. Fire and ice. How they completely took over the arena.

Two middle school aged girls huddled together at a corner, whispering and blushing as they watched him cross the street. 

“Do you think he’s single?”

“I think he’s with her. Did you see the way he put a stop to it? I wish someone would protect me like that.” 

Shoto’s hand flexed as he overheard the conversation. Everyone seemed to be talking about him. The battles from the tournament were on everyone’s minds.

As he passed by more people all he heard was the whispers. The whispers about his power, his father. . . you. The way the two of you fought. It felt so out of sync but everyone else saw the opposite. They saw two people who were friends, showing off each other's quirks. 

Shoto entered the hospital, if he could just get to his mothers room, maybe he wouldn’t hear anymore. 

He asked the front desk about his mother. They were shocked. Some over the videos that had been all over social media of the tournament, others over it being Endeavor’s son, and a few because they had never seen him before. He had never visited his mother until today.

One kind nurse stood up, pointing him in the direction. She told him that his mother was having a good day, and that she would have a great one now that he was there. 

The walk from the front to his mother’s hospital room felt longer than the one from his home to the hospital. Part of him wondered why he even came.

After Shoto left the hospital, he ended up walking around the city. He didn’t realize how hard it would be to face his mom again. What emotions would show. What memories would resurface. While it was a hard thing to face, Shoto knew he was going to continue facing it. He would see his mother again in a few weeks and write to her in between. 

Fuyumi messaged Shoto as soon as he got back onto campus. She asked how it went and he replied with a simple fine. Do you want to talk about it? She asked.

No.

Shoto could hear her sigh of frustration through the phone. Before she could reply, he put his phone on do not disturb and slid it into his bag.

The campus was quiet, many students had traveled back home and wouldn’t be back until Sunday afternoon. Shoto took his time walking to the dorm, stopping at the field he had previously found you at. Tonight, it was empty. The grass was freshly mowed and a little damp from the evening dew. 

A part of Shoto wanted to find you there. Pulling the beads of water off the blades of grass to make something else. He wanted to watch you use your power without any restraint like him. He hated his left side. Why did he have to have a father like Endeavor? One that put a sour taste in his mouth when he even thought about using his fire. 

Shoto stared at the spot you had been at. Picturing you there in your hero costume. It flowed around you as you pulled the water close. A faint glow around as you used your quirk.

He wondered what the motivation was behind your training. You gave it your all, fighting with and against him, you gave it everything. He admired it.

The clock rang out, reminding Shoto of the curfew that had been set after the villain attack. He sighed, looking one last time at the field before making his way to the dorms. 

The doors opened, making you jump. You shifted quickly, hiding the candle behind your back. Your hand moved quickly to weave air to snuff out the flame. The candle lifted off the table, air carrying it under the table out of sight.

“You’re back late,” you said, flustered, grabbing your notebook and pulling it into your lap. You weren’t planning on anyone coming into the common room this late at night. You needed a change of scenery to practice with the candle. You hoped Shoto didn’t see. 

He did but said nothing. Instead he collapsed onto the other side of the couch. His head fell back as he closed his eyes. His body slowly relaxed into cushions but an underlying tension lingered. He wore a dark blue button up, the top two buttons were undone as well as his sleeve cuffs. His breathing became softer as his body relaxed. 

“Do you want me to leave?” You asked. You felt like you were watching something secret. Something you were never supposed to see.

“They are still talking about the match, you know,” he said, not answering your question.

You flushed, remembering the news report Hakugar sent you. Many people had questions about your relationship with Shoto. Edits were circulating social media with romantic music as they zoomed in on the two of you. In the moment, you hadn’t realized how close he had gotten to you. No one knew that the words he had spoken were far from romantic. 

You wait for him to say something else. How are you supposed to reply to that when you have seen what the people are saying about the two of you? 

Shoto didn’t say anything at first. He glanced at you for a moment before turning his gaze.

“It won’t happen again,” he said quickly. “It was a fluke.”

It stung a bit. Deep down you knew there was something there. For some reason you were able to use his fire in that way. 

“Right,” you murmured. “A fluke.”

You stare at your notebook. The silence turned heavy. A growing pressure burned in your chest. 

“And what if,” you started. “What if it wasn’t a fluke?”

Shoto turned to look at you again, this time his gaze stayed fixed. Your heart beat a little faster as you prepared for his next words to sting like the last.

“It has to be a fluke.”

Shoto lingered for a moment longer, wondering if it had been a good idea in the first place to sit beside you. Then he nodded once, to you or himself, you didn’t know. He walked out, leaving you alone again. The air around you felt full of the things left unsaid.

When Monday rolled around, it was time to learn about your internship lists. Everyone was on the edge of their seats as they waited for the results. Professor Aizawa talked in length about how important it was to pick your internship wisely and how it will set you up for success in the coming years at UA and beyond. You knew that you wouldn’t have as many internships as the top three winners of the tournament, but you were hopeful that the discourse over your battle would land you a good amount to choose from. 

Everyone was shocked by the results that came up on the screen. 

Bakugo

Tokymai

Lida. . .

Your eyes continued down the list. Shoto didn’t make the top three. It wasn’t until your eyes reached the bottom did you find your name under Shoto’s. Both with 1 next to it. 

“You only got one offer?” Hagakure whispered. “And Todorki only got one too. How?” 

You looked at her wide eyes and shrugged. When you looked back at Shoto, you could feel the heat rolling off him which was quickly snuffed out by freezing temps.

“I’ll be passing out your lists of agencies shortly. But before we can talk about your next steps in picking your agency. We need to discuss your hero names. To help with this, Professor Midnight will be approving your names.”

Paper was being passed down the aisle and everyone began writing down their ideas for their hero name. You had one picked out for a while now. It was a simple task to write it down and sat quietly waiting for the rest of class. 

Elemental

You waited anxiously to present your name. Many passed Midnight’s harsh review while a few failed and had to try again. You passed, sitting back down quietly.

Only one option. What option could that be? And why did Shoto only have one option as well? This made no sense. You understood you didn’t do great in the battle, but how could you still only receive one agency? Your body was cold as your leg bounced. 

A warm feeling enveloped your hand. Hagakure. She gripped your hand, showing her support. 

Once everyone had presented their hero name, Professor Aizawa passed out the lists of hero agencies. 

When you flipped yours over, the pit in your stomach lessened a bit. 

Endeavor’s Agency.

While you were happy to have the number two hero on the list, you were hoping for an actual list to choose from. You only had one option which was strange when those who scored even lower than you had more than just a single agency. 

The class erupted in talks about their list. 

“Who did you get?” “Endeavor’s Agency.”

Hakgura went wide-eyed. “That’s amazing.” “Yeah,” you whispered. “But why only him?”

“Does it matter? You get to intern under the number two hero.”

You stared at the paper. Something didn’t feel right. 

[ao3feed-sladedick]

Of Precious Fragile Things

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/oPjUMqG by Anonymous Rose brings a familiar visitor home. Words: 2587, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 9 of Nightingale Nest Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson, Rose Wilson Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Protective Slade Wilson, Complicated Relationships, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Slade Wilson Loves Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson Loves Slade Wilson, Shapeshifter Dick Grayson read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/oPjUMqG

[ao3feed-matchablossom]

Burning Ink

by KAI (Iniquity_Cynthian) He imagined it, the humiliation of being wrong, the relief of being wanted. He imagined Kaoru’s scowl and how Kojiro would offer him coffee to fix it, how they’d laugh it off, how he’d wrap his arm around Kaoru, whisper in his ear about going back to bed, and how the pink haired man would lightly shove his chest but would wrap his legs around his waist and look at him with that devilish smirk on his face. How he’d pick him up, and they’d go back to the bedroom while Kaoru would smack his arm for picking him up and call him a ‘thirsty gorilla’ but not make any real effort to get away. Words: 2587, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: SK8 the Infinity (Anime) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe, Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom Additional Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Kinda?, Nanjo Kojiro | Joe Needs a Hug, Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom Needs A Hug, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Not Canon Compliant, Love Confessions, Developing Relationship, Mentioned Shindo Ainosuke | Adam, Past Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom/Shindo Ainosuke | Adam, Complicated Relationships source https://archiveofourown.org/works/65649997

[teddybearsandspaceships]

In the Reign of Queen Pearl (2587 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Hermitcraft SMP Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Etho, Pearlescentmoon, TangoTek, cubfan135, GoodTimesWithScar, ZombieCleo Additional Tags: Hermitcraft Season 10, Alternate Universe - Magic, The Deepfrost Court Summary: "You know, if you think about it, all of this is really Cleo's fault," Scar said.   Hermitcraft has a new queen and a new royal court. They do their best. Etho wishes he could resign.

[the-most-unreliable-writer]

Day 7: 0/2587 words

I did not in fact feel like writing in the car and I spent most of the day in a car. Stopped to explore some caves and they were awesome. Tomorrow, I must write 3,587 words. Blaaa

[ao3feed-zukka]

lacuna

Read now on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/DB4J8Xr by icansmelltheghostsofsmoke (n.) a blank space, a missing part or, Zuko and Sokka meet for the first time in two years and they're living in the same cramped apartment. The last time they spoke, it was screaming their heads off at one another and would've involved fists if teachers hadn't stepped in. Hopefully this time will be better. Words: 2587, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen, M/M Characters: Zuko (Avatar), Sokka (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar) Relationships: eventual Sokka/Zuko - Relationship, Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar) Additional Tags: Roommates, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Slow Burn, Bad Parent Ozai (Avatar), Mentioned Ozai (Avatar), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Eventual Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Zuko-centric (Avatar), (and sokka centric sort of because the POV shifts sometimes), Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Read it on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/DB4J8Xr