#30 minute word vomit

[frozenhi-chews]

I have some Big Thoughts about weddings and marriages because they are literally another step in the relationship. Deciding to have that commitment to your partner for the rest of your life should not be an on-the-whim decision. Marriage is not the final destination, it's taking it a step further.

Like my parents got married after 7 months of meeting together and they're still happily married 20+ years later with four kids, one of which is in college (me). Because they KNEW that marriage wasn't the end and they were willing to commit. (They also spent a lot of time together so there's that)

I love the idea of marriage as the idea of being fully committed to my partner. Both of us helping each other and whatnot. And there's so much to learn from wedding fails, holy crap

[girlbob-boypants]

I say this as someone with mental health issues that make it really easy to get off track in conversations but please stop giving service workers essays of context for your requests.

90% of the time we do not care. Just ask us if we have what you want. Your child's birthday is not my problem, but checking if we have the candy in the shape of the numbers you need is.

[coweggomelet]

every retail customer die challenge

[n7viper]

ring for mihri and cullen? 🥺🙏

(one word Valentine's prompts)

Ro! I have no fucking idea what happened here. But it's unedited and full of vibes. I can't explain them.

--

Mihri twirled the ring around her finger with a smile. Each facet of the modest stone illuminated a different memory—fireside chats under the cover of night at Haven, a blurry outline of saviour in the snow, a tired yet comforting dance under the watchful eyes of the Winter Palace. Not all memories of that time were pleasant, sure, but it was as they said. Time heals most wounds. It was difficult to imagine what her life would have become if not for the Inquisition. Perhaps she would have died with— no. If it had not been for the Inquisition, she wouldn’t have had them. They made the suffering into the distant memories they were.

“Mama, look!”

The shout pulled her from her thoughts and back to the curly-haired boy in front of her. He beamed, brandishing a small toad and waving it too furiously. The poor thing. It was only a common toad, one they often found in the garden.

“Oh, isn’t he cute? You should show him to Baba.”

Cullen looked up, wide-eyed, from the book he’d been reading across the garden. She bit back a grin as he narrowed his eyes at her — she knew he hated the slimy things.

[ma1dita]

play pretend

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.1k (holy shit)

summary: (established relationship…at the end of it lol) suggestive in nature but sfw , underage drinking what do you expect from a dionysus!kid, mentions of vomit The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren't exactly together yet. Everyone knows you two are together except the both of you, apparently. It’s hard to not run away from something good. (luke castellan x dionysus!reader)

a/n: happy first i love you to you and luke! yall are together now! crazy! thanks for being patient during my lil vacay :)) its been a little over a month since i started the trouble!verse!! ilysm

(posted 2/23 betad by my one and only @mrsaluado )

—

There’s something you’ve always loved about mornings.

Waking up with the first rays of light peeking through your window, the sun’s arms stretched around your sleepy frame pressing warm, featherlike kisses across the expanse of your back.

It almost feels real. 

Apollo must be feeling generous today, the heat of a warm breath brushing against your neck, and your alarm sounding an awful lot like soft snores. You ought to get up and close the blinds; it’s too damn bright. But your weighted blanket feels immensely heavier this morning as it envelopes your senses—smelling of citrus, musk, and a tangible dream of last night that seems to have stayed in bed with you. As soon as you try to untangle your legs from below the covers, warmth presses you deeper into the mattress with a…familiar sigh.

Your eyes pop open.

Quick and calculated, your eyes survey the surroundings of your room—the mop of licorice tresses nestled against the crook of your neck, both of your clothes scattered on the floor, as well as the alarm clock and a few other things knocked off your nightstand from Luke’s enthusiasm. The quiet of the morning is quickly disrupted when you hear two pairs of little hands pounding on your door, and for a moment you wonder if this is one of those hyper-realistic dreams that you don’t want to wake up from.

“Sissy! You missed breakfast,” Pollux bellows as Castor continues to slap his palms on the wood like a bongo drum.

The sheets start rustling as you squirm out of Luke’s grasp, bumping against the muscular ridges of his torso which brings him back to consciousness.

“Be out in a minute!” you slur against his shoulder, and he opens his eyes blearily at the sight of you sprawled over him to try to reach the alarm clock on the ground. As his eyes focus he can’t help but admire the planes of your body, soft and pretty in the morning light like a painting come to life. Waking up in one’s company has never felt more right, even with the usual chatter of campers wafting through the open window. Here in the swaddle of pink and purple sheets, you two are something singular—not camp counselors with jobs to do, not demigods wanting to achieve glory, just your Angelface and his Trouble. 

It’s intimate, even if it doesn’t have a label, him and you.

His large hand catches you at the plush of your tummy when you almost topple off the bed.

“Shit. Shit! They’re not kidding—Luke, it’s 9:30!”

You fling yourself upwards and off of him, clambering to find clothes from your dresser and tossing him his from the day prior. His belt buckle almost hits him in the eye and he groans, flinching as it smacks him in the cheek.

“Gods, woman. You think camp will crumble because you slept in for once?” 

The glare you throw in his direction is his answer, so Luke slowly tugs his pants on–though he quickly gets distracted by a half-dressed vision of you rummaging around your room.

“Castellan.”

He grins like a little kid in a candy store, and to that, you throw his shoe at him. 

Idiot. 

Too bad you’re in deep shit for sleeping in.

“SISSY!!!” 

“IN A FUCKING MINUTE, THING ONE AND TWO!” 

Screaming at the closed door as you throw some shorts on, you spin around and bump into Luke who’s already got his hands around your waist as his nose nudges the space between your jaw and your neck.

“You were supposed to leave before daybreak,” you sigh, a smile creeping onto your lips, “if you did as you were told, I wouldn’t have slept in.” Fake annoyance leaks through your voice though he knows it not to be true, he wouldn’t be able to latch onto you like this if you were. His nose continues to graze up towards your ear as he presses a kiss behind it—like how you both deal with your feelings and the truth nowadays, a hidden secret kept for both of your eyes only.

“Dunno Trouble…I can get used to waking up next to you,” he mumbles. You can feel the imprint of his smile searing into your skin.

Is this what going into cardiac arrest feels like? Genuine question.

You’ve both been sneaking around for the past few weeks, but neither of you has made anything official. They say it’s easier to fall for a friend rather than a stranger—to know someone so intimately (and now in more ways than one) should make falling the easy part. 

But that’s kind of the problem. 

Luke is your best friend—both knowing how the other feels from a single glance, so pray tell to all the gods on Olympus, why has this boy not asked you out yet? Whether this is all for fun or anything resembling a four-letter word that makes your brain go fuzzy, you think you’d rather swim in the Styx instead of putting yourself at a disadvantage. Love is scary, even if it’s Luke. 

Especially since it’s Luke.

His words make you stop in your tracks and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears, so you’re not dead… But the noise turns out to be one of the twins banging on the door again, and now you look like an asshole for taking too long to respond. Luke’s awkwardly looking at you now, tongue in cheek.

“Last warning,” one of your brothers teasingly croons, before the other continues, “Dad’s almost at the door! Your boyfriend’s gotta go or he’s dead…”

Your eyes widen in fear and Luke loosens his grip on your waist, unsure if you look like you’ve seen a ghost at the thought of him being called your boyfriend or the very real possibility of getting caught by your dad.

What a way to go, you two.

“Get out. You gotta go now, out the window!” 

You start pushing him towards the windowpane, your palms pressing against his marked-up and very bare back. 

Holy shit, he still doesn’t have a shirt and he looks like he got mauled by a hellhound. 

You can practically see the grapevines start to flourish outside your window. 

He’s too close for comfort, way too damn close, you think, but can’t reason if you mean Luke or your dad.

“Seriously?” 

He straddles the open window, and Luke doesn’t know what to feel about you pushing him away—it’s a feeling that’s foreign to him since he’s always by your side. 

“Sorry. I’ll make it up to you later angelface,” you mumble, pulling him in for a mind-numbing kiss that almost makes him slip off the rain gutter, and by the time you’ve already closed the window he realizes he’s shirtless in broad daylight, feet hopping off the siding of the cabin.

This couldn’t get any worse (oh but it does in a second), and you’re definitely the asshole this time around.

Your dad barges into your room by the time you throw a shirt on.

“Kid, what the hell? You sick?” 

Mr. D furrows his brows at the sight of you, face flushed as you simper up a lie about your head hurting. It’s weak for an excuse and even if you usually don’t have a tell—he’s the master of this game, so he pretends to not notice you chuck a shirt out the window when you open it to make it less stuffy. 

He raises an eyebrow in disapproval when you both notice your shirt is too big on you.

Oh, he’s onto you, applying heat like a brand to make his only daughter squirm; Mr. D peeks out the window to see a certain Luke Castellan stomping across the path wearing your cropped camp tee—and concludes that if there’s anyone in hot water right now, Luke must be drowning in it.

—

Acting natural is a bit harder for you today, and it feels like a cruel and unusual punishment worth the deepest pit of the Underworld as you scribble words onto a page that won’t even be comprehensible once you read them after this meeting is over. You’ve been catching up on work all day (also known as the impossible task of avoiding Luke) to show your dad you haven’t been slacking off. But a late start meant you fumbled through your day and it was obvious to everyone that you were off your game. Archery ran into javelin throwing, capture the flag teams weren’t ready and had to be made on the spot, there were no new shipments delivered to the camp store, and the infirmary ran out of ambrosia— which were all things that you were expected to coordinate.

Gods, you’re getting too old for this shit.

And if you, the head counselor everyone depends on, is off her game, well—everyone’s on edge. The Stolls even dared to ask you if the world was ending today and you were less than impressed.

Being in love sure feels like it is.

The only thing left to get through is this counselor’s meeting before the party tonight at Fireworks Beach, and you’ll damn yourself to Tartarus if you can’t even get that right. You’re a Dionysus kid, so partying is in your blood. Party planning is your favorite hobby, and to be real, you deserve a drink after today.

Speaking of your father, he’s jabbering on about something you find yourself not particularly interested in, but well…someone’s gotta listen. Charles is dozing off at the table, and Lee jabs him in the side. You see Silena braiding Clarisse’s hair out of the corner of your periphery. And of course, out of all of them, there’s Luke who’s been trying to steal your attention for the past 30 minutes. Black ink smears across the page as you find yourself having every thought that ends supplemented with the memory of how Luke looked at you as he climbed out of your window this morning.

Could he actually want more? 

The all-star camper, Luke Castellan— camp’s best soldier who’s envied by many and admired by all…wants to wake up next to you. You, the camp director’s daughter who keeps everyone in line and is seen more as authority instead of a person with feelings. You’re not always feared, but in a camp for demigod kids who’d rather hone their powers instead of lose special privileges for skipping class, you’re not exactly their favorite either. Once, someone said they’d rather face Mr. D instead of you.

“That doesn’t make sense, we’re supposed to send in the next progress report to Olympus before the last day of the month. That’s Wednesday, D. So it should be by the Sunday before,” you butt in after a statement your dad makes about scheduling. 

All eyes are on you now— it’s the first time you’ve spoken up during tonight’s meeting which was out of character in itself, but your father catches you off guard when the sound of his booming laughter spreads across the room like dynamite tearing through a battlefield.

“Says who? We’ve got enough time,” The god remarks, a strange sheen in his eyes that reflects into yours. He’s on your ass a bit more today, pointing out your flaws from the day and making it his mission to get on your nerves. Few mortals would undermine a god, and though you do it daily to spite him for your existence, your confidence is lower today than it usually is—the reason being a boy with amber eyes boring into your soul from across the table. Everything else pales in comparison now, almost fading into the background, and even here in the hot seat you can’t help but think about if Luke could ever fall for someone like you.

You’re venturing into dangerous territory, you tell yourself, you’ve been hurt before.

It hurts less somehow when you’re cautious. To prepare oneself to be hurt is a defense mechanism ingrained in you—your mom raised you to always be ready for anything. Your self-identity has always been skewed by others’ perceptions. Mirroring the memory of your late mother’s ideals, exemplifying your actions through your immortal father’s personality, you find that fighting your bloodline is one of the most difficult things to come to terms with. A thought passes in your brain that you’ve taken after the worst of them—your mother’s ambition and your father’s unpredictability. 

And who would want to love someone so difficult? 

Tough love is the only way you know how to love. Perhaps someone as good as Luke deserves better than this.

“It’ll be less to worry about that way,” you swallow, and the other counselors sit back in their seats as tension fills the air, signaling another disagreement about to start between your father and you.

“Good thing you don’t have to worry about it since it’s my job, right, kid? Just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today doesn’t mean you can change things to better fit your schedule instead of the rest of ours.”

Mr. D scowls, and then again maybe you’re too much like your father—too brash, too mouthy, and self-serving, and your eyes meet Luke’s again as your mouth pulls into a bitter smile.

“It’s the first and last time it’ll ever happen. Gods know I don’t get sick days around here picking up after you,” you spit out harshly, words coming out like acid.

“Just saying kid. Haven’t seen you this careless in years— Maybe check yourself before telling us what to do, yeah?”

Your father’s words have a double meaning as he stares into your soul, glancing between you and Luke, who is none the wiser, still focused on you. Annabeth is holding his hand under the table as you watch his jaw flex. He can see right through the shoddy performance you put on of having it all together.

Does everyone know? 

Your lips pucker as you roll your neck from locking, and a humorless laugh slips from you. Everyone else’s eyes are on Luke, who looks like he’s about to jump across the table and wring a god’s neck. 

Fuck. 

“Whatever. I’m not doing this today,” you grumble, feeling overwhelmed. The chair screeches against the wood of the floor as you push yourself up, fists stained with ink and clenched in teenage angst as you walk to the door to make a quick escape. 

Your father crosses his arms smugly at the success of getting under your skin, and the last words you hear as you leave are, “You never want to hear the truth, kid. Must you always be so…. you?”

Your steps falter for a moment, feeling heavier knowing he’s right so you let go of the door to let it slam it behind you. There’s a commotion inside after you leave but you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.

It’s time to party and you’re sure as hell getting drunk, high, or both tonight.

—

It takes about two cups of wine for the inebriation to start kicking into Luke’s system. He’d never been much of a drinker, but with the way you’re throwing your head back at Lee’s jokes as he plays the guitar, he thinks he should drink a bit more to forget the fear in your eyes this morning and how Lee keeps touching your waist.

He’s been suspended from counselor duties for the rest of the month for mouthing off at Mr. D in your defense, and even if Annabeth tells him he’s lucky to have not met a worse fate, the way things played out today makes him feel like the most unlucky guy at camp. Fuck the gods, or at least…fuck your dads (that doesn’t sound right, but he’s too busy watching the moonlight glint against your skin that whatever his ex is whispering next to him goes in one ear and out the other). 

“Lukey?” Skye mumbles against his neck, “I miss you…you’re always busy doing who knows what!”

Well… you have a name, Luke thinks, taking a big gulp of whatever’s left in his cup as his eyes follow you across the beach. You’re dancing around the bonfire spinning a tipsy Clarisse who laughs without a care in the world. He thinks you’re the best of your parents—determined to achieve your goals, selfless when it comes to others’ needs, and passionate about what you want. Mr. D will never get to see this side of you—the one you show your friends and this place you all call home. He’ll never be deserving of the work you put into Camp Half-Blood (and to some extent, Luke knows he doesn’t deserve you either).

A dejected sigh brushes warm air against his shoulder.

“You know, Castellan. I wish I met you first,” the blond daughter of Athena slurs with tears forming in her eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“The two of you have always… it’s always been you and her. Even if you both don’t want to admit it. It’s not fair,” she hiccups. Luke pulls the cup out of his ex-lover’s hand and she shakes her head.

“Skye, you’re drunk. I’ll take you back to 6.”

“You really don’t see it do you?” Her hands grapple onto Luke’s shirt like she’s pulling him down and pleading for him to understand.

“That girl is in love with you. The both of you are meant for each other—and you’re both spending too much time trying to fight fate. The rest of us aren’t as lucky, but we sure as hell aren’t stupid.”

There’s a moment of clarity that hits as he looks into Skye’s eyes, and he scratches the back of his neck.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I meant what I said when we broke up a few years ago. You’re both always looking for each other, even if you don’t know it. Just meet in the middle already, for gods’ sake…I’ll be okay,” she sighs, sitting up on the log they were resting on. 

“Your girlfriend is sure as hell to give me a hangover worth her title of being Dionysus’ kid in the morning anyways,” she mutters, kissing Luke on his cheek as a farewell. But out of all of the things to catch your attention that night, Luke’s blush glows in the light of the fire, and he watches you frown and stomp off toward the forest.

For being the son of the god of luck, his dad really won’t give him a break.

It didn’t help that Skye suddenly started projectile vomiting seconds after you left (off of her only cup of wine; wonder how that happened).

—

Luke fights through his growing intoxication on the walk back towards the cabins, but boy are you difficult when you’re angry—you’ve always had a profound effect on his being, even more so with your powers. He makes a wrong turn somewhere through the woods, completely missing the cabins, which he doesn’t realize until he stumbles across the path leading to the Big House. When his eyes focus, he spots Mr. D sipping on a glass as he leans on the railing of the front porch. Be calm and don’t act drunk, Luke tells himself, but all of his concentration goes into not swaying in front of the god of wine that he can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

“Good evening, um…sir.”

“Kid, it’s 3 in the morning. What the hell are you doing here? Gods know it’s not my window you’re trying to climb up. You’re a bit of a ways off.”

Now what the fuck was he supposed to say to that?

Luke freezes in his spot (in reality he bumps into the first wooden step and sticks a hand out to steady himself against the railing).

“Are you drunk?”

Mr. D looks at him knowingly like it’s almost funny to him, eyebrows furrowed and head quirked like he can sniff it off of him. He probably can, now that Luke thinks really hard about it.

“I’m not gonna answer that because I think you know the answer already,” the son of Hermes words carefully, but nothing smart can come of this. It’s like playing chess with checkers, and Dionysus of all gods would know—no breathalyzer needed.

There’s a beat of silence, before Mr. D says, “I’m gonna give you another chance to–”

“Yes, I’m drunk, but it’s not Trouble’s fault—it’s mine!” he blabbers, walking closer to your father. 

“She’s mad at me for defending her from you earlier besides the fact I act stupid around her and I only had a few cups, I swear, but she’s…your daughter is…extraordinary.”

“What?”

“Your daughter makes me feel drunk, sir. Even without the wine. I don’t know what to do with myself, just please don’t get mad at her. She has a lot more to lose…” He feels pathetic in all sense of the word, rubbing at his eyes until Mr. D snaps his fingers and the alcohol blanket lifts from his senses. Like a bucket of cold water splashed onto his spine, Luke is suddenly very awake, and all too embarrassed for the waterfall of words he’s told your father.

“Oh.”

“I didn’t know she knew how to do that yet. She’s learning quickly.” Mr. D looks out into the distance, the dim light of the cabins acting like a beacon of light in the middle of the campgrounds.

Luke wrings his hands, picking at his thumbs and he’s sure he’s about to get kicked out of camp for his behavior, much less the fact that he’s been fraternizing with the director’s daughter.

“Sometimes I think she knows too much.” He licks his lips, awkwardly standing next to the god and wondering if the dark liquid in his cup is wine.

“Do you think I don’t know that, Luke? Do you really think I don’t know about the parties? I let her have her fun too you know— I'm the one that keeps Chiron asleep. She doesn’t ask for much. I know I give her a hard time. I’m just….” 

There are a few things about Mr. D’s statement that surprise Luke: the fact that he actually knows his name, how he safeguards his daughter’s interests, and the possibility of a god actually knowing how to be a good parent. 

It still doesn’t take away from the countless times he’s seen you put yourself down because of your father, the inadequacy you feel from the responsibilities you take on, and how you’d do anything for simple applause. Tough love is still love with a heavy hand. And it leaves bruises, whether he meant it or not.

“Is that why you’ve never sent her on an actual quest? We all know picking up the twins doesn’t count in the grand scheme of things.”

“For what? To achieve glory? Recognition? I never understood why we Olympians do that. Send children off to their deaths to deserve a moment of their godrent’s time, or a gift to shut them up. I don’t need her to be a hero, she doesn’t have anything she needs to prove to me. I need her to be my daughter, and preferably alive. That’s enough for me.”

Luke takes a step back in disbelief. There’s something in his being that yearns to be loved like that, without having to prove it or needing to deserve it. It hurts almost, the way he wants to be loved like your family loves you. Your father, an Olympian, standing in front of him telling him that your existence is enough to be worthy of his presence. In the silence that follows, Luke wonders if he’ll ever have that.

“You should tell her that more often, sir.”

“Listen. She’s a good kid, I just give her a hard time because it’s hard to get attached to you mortals. Your lives are so short compared to the infinite timeline I live. I can do everything in my power to try to keep her safe, but I can’t stop her from leaving. So don’t blame me if I act needy if it’ll keep her here for a bit longer. I’ll take all the time I can get.”

“Then how do I tell her I love her with without either of us running away?”

Mr. D laughs loudly now, his wrinkles crinkling as liquid sloshes out of his cup. It turns out to be grape juice you left out for him before the party.

“Mortals always busy themselves with trivial things, like pride and sorrow. Pandora’s box left you humans with nothing but hope. I say you swallow the negative and just say it how it is. You’ll have a lot more time being happier together that way. I already lost my bet against some of the counselors anyway.”

“What bet?”

Your dad swats at Luke like he’s a dog to kick, and tosses his glass over his shoulder where it disappears in the night air.

“Get off my porch Castellan, and just know if you hurt her…” 

“I’d die before that happens, sir.”

“That would hurt her most of all. Think about what that means. For gods’ sake she’s left her light on for you, so go on before I set the harpies on you. And don’t call me sir, it freaks me out. You’re still not special to me.” Mr. D stalks back inside the Big House, and Luke takes that as his cue to leave. The cold night air pushes him back towards the cabins, the light in your window luring him in like a ship lost at sea.

—

“I know you’re still awake, Trouble.”

You hear him move closer to the bed as you keep your eyes shut, evening out your breaths, but you’re never able to hide anything from Luke anymore.

“I thought I closed that window,” you mumble, turning your face more towards your pillow.

“You didn’t.”

Of course, you didn’t. You were hoping he’d chase after you this time around, even if you made him drunk in more ways than one.

“Skye keep you busy?” you say nonchalantly, and you hear Luke laugh as he tugs your duvet off of you.

“Your dad did, actually,” he says grinning, watching your eyes pop open in confusion as you turn and face him, propping yourself up on your knees.

“What the fuck?”

“You could’ve gotten me kicked out y’know? Stumbled onto his porch telling him about how drunk you make me feel even without a drop of alcohol and how I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself when I’m around you.”

“You shouldn’t be so brave to fight gods like that for me. Even if it’s my dad, Castellan,” you whisper, and he kneels next to your bed so he can look at you in the eyes from an equal standpoint. Because that’s what the two of you are— equal, singular, one and the same. And he’s never made you feel less than, even if your brain tries to convince you of it.

“Stop that,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he grabs your hands, “stop calling me my last name like it detaches you from how you feel about me. I want you to stop pretending when it's just you and me,” he pleads, whispering your name so softly that the sound of it brushes against your lips.

There’s something more intimate in the way he looks at you now compared to when you were naked and nestled against him this past morning. The act of knowing that it’s you and him, no matter how hard you try to fight it.

His knuckle brushes against your jaw, pushing your eyes to look back into his, and you can’t deny him any longer.

“Hey. I love you, and I know you feel the same; I'm tired of you acting like you're not and I’m going crazy he—”

His words are halted by your lips surging forward to meet him in the middle. The culmination of years of friendship has brought you to this special moment frozen in time, and sure, demigods die young but this must be what he’ll see in Elysium. If there’s a single memory he can bring with him to his next life, he hopes it’s this one—the taste of you and how it feels to be loved like this, without question or reason. You pull away with a sweet smile and he feels drunk again.

“You’re my best friend, Angelface,” you mumble.

Okay, now that sobered him up faster than it should have.

Luke stiffens, his hands falling to your thighs as he starts to ramble, “If you’re actually friendzoning me right now I might just roll out of your window and feed myself to a harpy.”

The laugh that comes out of you booms across the room as you wrap your arms around him with a radiant smile. You always have so much to say, but right now only three words come to mind. Five vowels, three consonants, and the gravity of it pushes out of your mouth like there’s no better truth to tell.

“I love you. I think I’ve been in love with you even before I liked you and I’m sorry I’ve been too scared to say it. I’m not used to…”

Luke sighs in relief, as he presses his scarred cheek against your shoulder. 

“You think I’m not scared of us either, Trouble? I worship the ground you walk on, and everyone can see that.”

“Well I’m not a god, Luke,” you say tugging him up by his mop of curls as your legs wrap around him.

“Sometimes when I’m with you, I think you’re the closest thing to it,” he whispers, pulling your chin down for another kiss until you both get your fill. He thinks he can kiss you forever until the end of your short lives, until it’s senseless and maddening, like falling into a drunken stupor. Loving you is an experience he’ll never be able to rid himself of, heart stained with the best of you until both your fingertips are red and raw with the feeling.

You pull him back into your bed as your giggles fill the early morning air. He’s quickly becoming what you love most about waking up in the morning.

—

Chris Rodriguez wakes up to the sound of the morning birds and chattering children in the busy cabin 11. As he rubs at his eyes, ready to take on the day as an interim cabin counselor for the rest of the month because of Luke’s suspension, sunlight falls onto the one empty bunk in the corner of the room (Fact: There is never an empty bed in the Hermes cabin. Also a fact: he and Chiron will be able to cash in against the other counselors as fast as his feet can take him to the Big House).

—

“To love someone is firstly to confess; I’m prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy Ray Belcourt

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[irndad]

Oh my gosh!!! Don’t date coworkers was so cute!!! Would you be willing to do one similar with Hotch? <3

It shouldn’t bother him.

Aaron thinks of himself as someone who adores professional candor, and wishes that his team possessed it in spades. It’s not as though she is professional in almost any other aspect. She excels in personality, and if he had any shame, it would be harder for Aaron to admit what an actual delight she is to his daily life. 

She’s kind, in a way that he’s found is rare in this world. Asks about Jack, remembers what coursework he’s struggling in and remembers to ask. She knows his coffee order, which she ascertained from reading the cup. He’s quite fond of her. David is always telling him that life is short and that any girl would be lucky to date him. In less polite terms. 

She’s beautiful. 

She’s all soft smiles and warm disposition, and she’s easy to like. She’s always the first to anticipate your needs, and Aaron can picture how he’d slot into her life, a part of him can see what it would be like to pick her up in his lavish car and drive her to the office, spend the weekends basking in her company. He’d be a good partner- he’d known how, once, and he’d try for her. 

She doesn’t date people she works with. 

The fantasy has gone too far in many ways- a version of life in his mind that lingers. She has morning ritual, and he knows it’s a little creepy he watches it from the perch of his office. She pins her hair up and puts on a coat of her lipstick, before she inevitably forgets she’s wearing it, and leaves a lip-print on her cup. It’s hard not to imagine it with her sat on his kitchen counter. 

But he knows this is a boundary of hers- and even though it’s just in his fantasies, it feels…well, wrong to fantasize about her like that. He’d heard her loud and clear, telling officer Berbrook that she makes a point not to date anyone in the Bureau. It’s arrogant to think he’d be an exception. 

This morning, she’s earlier than he’s ever seen her in the office. She’s got big, wraparound headphones and a skirt on, and two cups. She’d gotten him coffee. He might burst. He speaks out her last name when she realizes he’s in the room, and internally, a warmth blooms in his chest at the wide open smile she grants him. 

“Hi, you!”

“You’re in early.”

“Mm,” she says, her mouth still full of coffee, endearingly eager, “I know, but that coffee shop you love had fritters, and I thought you’d like one.”

Off limits. He feels his eyebrows scrunch into a frown before he speaks. 

“You didn’t have to do that. 

“No one has to do anything. I wanted to. There’s two in there, one for Jack. They keep well.”

A completely ridiculously short amount of time passes before he’s able to speak again, or more accurately as Garcia would put it, word-vomit. 

“I heard officer Berbrook asked you out. That is absolutely inappropriate- would you like me to handle it?”

“Nah,” she says back, “It’s all good.”

“Morgan told me that you have a policy of never dating anyone you work with-“

“I said that about Berbrook, Hotch. It’s not like, an off-limits thing.” She looks down at her feet. Her shoes are green, Aaron notices, helplessly endeared, “y’know, with the right person…I wouldn’t want to close that door, do you know what I mean?”

Her doe eyes peer up at him, and he knows that she’s hear 30 minutes before anyone else is just to be able to get him food, telling him that she’s open to dating coworkers, and once upon a time he could’ve taken a fucking hint. 

In his younger years, when he was bolder and better able to ask for the things he wants, he might’ve asked her out right then. Might have run him and made a dinner reservation, somewhere with candle-light for an evening that would end with her being kissed against a wall or a car. 

But for now, he takes a bite of his fritter and makes some plans. If he’s got a shot with her, that’s a revelation that’s going to need some intense planning and preparing for. He’d like to woo her, if that’s something he could ever get to do. 

“Good fritter.”

“I know, right?” 

[soobnny]

one in the morning — kim seungmin. roommate au. fluff. a little slice of life.

roommate seungmin takes care of you when you catch a cold (1.0k words)

“(Name). Wake up.”

It’s quiet in your shared apartment, save for Seungmin’s harsh whispers jolting you from your trance of sleep.

There’s a trace of grogginess in his voice, like he’d forced himself awake, you’re not quite sure. It’s a little difficult to focus on anything when every surface of your skin feels like it’s burning.

“(Name).” He tries again, cold hand tapping against your arm. He’s gentle with his actions. He knows it wouldn’t take much to jolt you awake in your state.

“Seungmin?” You croak, voice congested as a result of your fever.

When you open your eyes, your roommate makes it look like he hadn’t been hovering over you and trying to shake you awake for the past few minutes. He just stands back, glass of water and your prescribed medicine in hand.

He looks exhausted, messy hair indicative of just having woken up and you don’t miss the yawn that leaves his lips when he turns away from you for a second.

The big white shirt he’s wearing is a little lopsided that it exposes a bit of his collarbones.

“The doctor said you need to take this every 8 hours, right?”

It’s a rhetorical question. You know he knows. He’d practically dragged you to get yourself checked after you’d failed to hide your fever from him.

“Yeah.” You move to sit up, the sound of rustling sheets lingering in the silence. A quick glance at the clock on your bedside table will tell you it’s close to one in the morning. It’s too early to have shaken your roommate away from his sleep. You feel sorry.

Seungmin hands you the medicine and glass of water in his hands. “Here, drink this.”

You take the medicine from his hand, placing it on your tongue and chugging it down with water almost immediately, like you’ve been told. You would hate for the metallic taste of the drug to linger on your tongue lest you want to start vomiting.

Your roommate only takes the glass back after you've drank every last drop, feverishly placing it on your bedside table so he doesn’t make a mistake of dropping it.

“Just gonna check your temperature now, okay? Then you can go back to sleep.” His hand falls over your forehead, an evident frown tugging at his lips before shoving his hand down the pocket of his sweatpants to grab the thermometer he’d brought with him.

“Okay.” You yawn, rubbing your eyes.

“It might feel a little uncomfortable.” He uncaps the cover off of the thermometer before gently tapping at your chin, as if telling you to open your mouth so he can slip the thermometer tip under your tongue.

When he slips it in, the first thing you discern is how cold the metal feels in your mouth. The next is how warm his hand feels gently moving strands of your hair away from your face before falling limp by his side.

The device is uncomfortable, but you don’t want to bother Seungmin any more than you already have.

“You can close your mouth now, then we’ll just wait for it to beep.”

Seungmin does nothing for the 30 seconds it takes the thermometer to check your temperature, simply sits on the edge of your bed patiently. The way he attempts to keep his eyes open is almost endearing.

He must’ve had a long day today.

The thought makes your face twitch. Your roommate isn’t usually like this, always passive in the things you do, but there’s something about the way he’s taking care of you right now that suddenly makes you aware of how considerate he is about things you usually overlook.

Thinking about it makes your face hot, so you stop. You wouldn’t want to fool the small device in your mouth.

When the thermometer beeps, Seungmin takes it from your mouth gently, staring down at the little screen before sighing a little in relief. “A little better than your temperature this morning. How do you feel, though?”

“I can’t really tell.” You feel ridiculous for it. The least you can offer him is a little reassurance that his efforts at waking you up to take your medicine are slowly adding up to your betterment, but you genuinely cannot tell if you feel better or not.

“That’s alright. We’ll check again in the morning. You can go back to sleep now.”

Your mind is slow to process your roommate tucking you back in. It doesn’t see him taking the empty glass on your table and shuffling to leave the room. It can only hear the quiet patter of his feet and the heavy inhale and exhale of exhaustion from the boy.

You’re halfway back to surrendering yourself to sleep when you call his name. “Seungmin?”

He’s just about outside your door when he turns back and lets his eyes gaze over to you. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you that you can’t quite put a word to. It’s different to how he looks when it’s morning and you’re more aware.

“I’m really sorry for bothering you.” You think the guilt will swallow you whole if you keep letting it brew in your sternum, so you tell him. The words sound congested when they leave your mouth, but you hope he understood every single word.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

You could never be a bother sits on his tongue.

“Go back to sleep. I don’t have plans tomorrow so I’ll be here to take care of you.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking at you one final time before shutting the door closed behind him. He doesn’t give you a chance to protest.

A little digging will tell you he does have plans for tomorrow, and if you asked Jeongin he’d probably rat out his best friend and tell you how he’d asked to raincheck so he could stay and take care of you.

(“Jeongin, I can’t come tomorrow. Can we move it to Sunday?”

“Why?” He whines.

“...(Name) is sick.”

“Oh my god, you are hopeless. Dude, just tell her how you feel, it’s not that hard.”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait, tell her get well so—”)

Maybe if you were more awake, you would’ve noticed the little ways in which he cares for you. Maybe if your mind was a little sharper in processing things, you would’ve heard him saying he’d do anything for you, even if it was to sacrifice the sleep he values. Instead, you close your tired eyes and fall back to unconsciousness.

In the morning, you’ll be greeted by a hot bowl of soup and the company of a roommate who bears more feelings for you than you originally thought.

[aidaronan]

Valentine's Day at the bar is always a bit chaotic. There are the couples who'd prefer something simplistic. There are the singles and groups who'd rather get fucked up than think about how no matter how emotionally evolved they feel the other 11 months of the year, February always tears down the walls and leaves them feeling raw.

Eddie gets it. He pours a little heavy for those ones even though he knows he'll probably have to clean up something unholy in one of the bathrooms later.

It takes him a while to notice the guy tucked away in one of the back booths. He'd seen him earlier when he came in, a white rose in his hand when he ordered a beer.

Eddie had registered him as cute, all pouty lips and perfect hair, with brown eyes that sometimes caught the light and bled green. But Eddie hadn't thought much about him after that. He'd written him off after seeing the flower, and there had been so so many drinks to pour.

"It's your turn." Chrissy tosses a damp rag at him, washes her hands, and goes back to mixing long islands at a breakneck pace.

Eddie bangs his hip on the corner of the bar, swearing on his way to clear and wipe down sticky tables. He finds rose guy nursing the same beer he'd sold him hours ago, the flower sitting in the middle of the table.

"Oh, sorry," Eddie says. "Thought this one was empty."

"It's fine. I should probably..." The guy drains the last dregs of room temperature beer. "You know what they say. Stand me up once, shame on you. Stand me up twice... Or whatever." He gives Eddie a smile that's more of a cringe, like he wishes he could take the words back the second he says them.

"Her loss." Eddie means it. If he had a guy like that, he'd be insufferable about him.

"His. I'm bi."

"Oh." Eddie glances back at Chrissy, her eyes already searching for him. "I have to get back before they go full Helm's Deep on the bar, but I tell you what. Next one's on me. Alliance of the lonely queers and all that." Eddie gives the guy a pat on his shoulder.

He doesn't really expect the guy to stick around, but he does. He takes Eddie's generous offer in the form of the cheapest beer on the menu, and he moves from the back booth to a seat at the bar.

When Eddie fucks up making a drink because he couldn't hear the order, he slides it next to the guy's Natty Light. "Please stop forcing yourself to drink that. It's painful to watch."

"It's fine. Brings back memories." "Of what? Vomiting outside of someone's shitty house party?"

Eddie can hear him laugh even over the noise. It's the best tip he's gotten all night. (Though he does notice the $5 the guy slips into the tip jar when he thinks Eddie's too busy theatrically mixing a mojito.)

"Alright bitches!" Chrissy hops up onto the bar with all the grace of someone who has a box full of old cheerleading medals in her closet. Eddie cuts the music, and her voice carries like she's leading a pep rally. "Last call!" She points at the crowd of drunks, most of them familiar enough with the bar to play along.

"For alcohol!" they finish for her, some of them rushing up to the ordering stations even while they holler.

The call and response goes on for a solid 30 seconds or so. Mid-pour, Eddie catches the stranger's eyes and gets a smile for it that almost knocks him on his ass. Eddie shakes spilled whiskey off his fingers.

"One more time," Chrissy yells. "Last call!"

"For alcohol!"

"As always drive safe and fuck safe." Chrissy pretends to curtsy in her jeans. "Cab numbers and condoms next to the payphones. Tip your bartenders or we'll find you." She hops down off the bar and starts taking final orders as the bar starts to empty.

Even after they shut down the register, the guy doesn't leave.

"Who's the dreamboat making eyes at you?" Chrissy asks, scrubbing glasses so fast Eddie's surprised she doesn't sprain her wrist.

"He is kind of a dreamboat, huh?"

She sighs. "I'll give you five minutes to secure a date, and then I need you to help me close so I can go home and take a hot bath. God, I want to cut off my feet."

"I want to replace my lower back with Terminator parts, so I get it. Thanks Chris." Eddie grabs a bar rag and makes his way down to the end. The stranger sits up straighter on his bar stool.

"Hey." An awkward scrub of the back of his neck. "Sorry if I misread anything. I can go if you aren't..." He fiddles with the now-limp rose, thumbing gently over one of the thorns. "Like I know you're working so you might have just been being-"

"Relax," Eddie says. "You didn't misread anything, dude." Eddie smiles at him and wipes drink rings off the countertop.

"Oh." A breath of relief. "Thank God for that because you...you're..." He shakes his head.

"Because I'm what? I will fish for a compliment for hours, man. Don't test me."

"And I will ruin shit by talking too much."

"Try me."

The guy sighs. "Because you're nice. Don't get me wrong, you're hot too. With the hair and the ripped jeans. Plus I've been making bets with myself all night about how many tattoos you have. But I don't need hot. I need nice. And you're nice."

"Oh." A beat. Eddie chews on his lip. "I don't know actually. How many tattoos I have, I mean." Ugh. "Like, I do try to be nice obviously, to everyone and especially to pretty guys. But if I got five different tattoos and then I connected them all into one piece, is that still five tattoos or is it one tattoo?" Seriously, Eddie has thought about this topic so much. Too much. "So depending on how you do tattoo math, I have anywhere from seventeen to twenty-nine tattoos. What's your name?"

"Steve. I'm Steve. Harrington."

"Oh, we're doing full names?" Eddie realizes he's been wiping the same part of the bar over and over again and stops. "I'm Eddie. Munson. So..." God, it's incredible that Eddie's still nervous given the situation, and yet. "So there's a 24-hour diner two blocks from here, Steve Harrington. Meet you when we're done closing up?"

"I question you referring to a Waffle House as a '24-hour diner,' but that sounds..." Steve laughs softly and ducks his head. "Nice. It sounds nice."

Eddie returns his soft smile and watches him leave, dropping the battered rose into the trash on the way out.

He and Chrissy close the bar in record time, and he sees her onto her bus with a kiss on the cheek.

"Have fun," she says.

"Enjoy your bath."

"God, I so will."

Eddie's halfway to the Waffle House when he runs into a street vendor closing up a little booth of bouquets meant for Valentine's Day stragglers. He finds himself thinking about that sad white rose, wondering if anyone's bought Steve flowers lately. Or ever.

"I'll take those yellow daisies," Eddie says, forking over a bit of cash. He second-guesses himself three or four times before he slides into the booth across from Steve and watches his face light up.

"My favorite color," Steve tells him. "And daisies are my favorite. My great-grandma always had them in her window when I was a kid. When my parents left town, we'd play card games in her living room and eat homemade fudge."

Silently, Eddie vows to get Steve Harrington yellow daisies as long as Steve will have him around.

"Mine would always drag me to bingo," Eddie says. "I loved it."

By the time they've both finished a stack of pancakes, Eddie has Steve's number scrawled in the blank space between 2-5 tattoos. Steve has Eddie's written on a napkin along with plans for their next date.

They talk on the phone every day until Eddie meets Steve for dinner, handing him a bouquet of happy yellow daisies, accepting a handful of deep purple calla lilies in return.

It's nice.

[imbored1201]

Flu Season

Word Count: 1.4k

Arsenal x Teen Reader

Waking up to Alessia jumping on your bed was eventful, to say the least. In your half-asleep state, you ended up pushing her off, and she landed pretty hard on her back. 

You were still half asleep as she groaned and cursed you out. She slowly got up to get an ice pack and complained to Leah. You were starting to wake up, but something didn't feel right to you. 

You groaned as you held your stomach and sat up. You felt nauseous, and you did not like that feeling. 

"Y/N! Let's go! We're going to be late." You heard Leah yell; you had to wake up earlier than usual because of Leah. She had to do a physical to determine if she was actually ready to go back onto the pitch. She had been up the past week overthinking it. 

"Sorry Le," you muttered, giving her your bag so she could check through it and make sure you packed everything. 

"You forgot your cleats," you groaned, making your way back to your room, trying to hold yourself back from jumping into bed again. 

————

"You okay back there, Tiny?" You huffed at Leah's words, "I'm not tiny." "You are in our eyes." You kicked Alessia's seat at that. 

"Stop,” Leah said sternly, giving you the mom look through the mirror. “But she started it,” you whined, “Alessia. You’re an adult.” Alessia simply grinned. She was glad she got under your skin already. 

You continued to ignore her as you got out of the car and bolted to the locker room. You felt a weird feeling in your chest as you went inside and started changing, getting a bunch of hugs and head taps from the girls. 

You thought it would just go away after a little bit, but you were really wrong about that one. 

————

30 minutes into training, you wanted to go up to Leah and admit that you weren't feeling well. You wanted to cuddle with her on the couch and have a movie night. 

But unfortunately for you, Leah was stuck doing her physical tests. 

You thought about going to Steph, but she was already dealing with Kyra's nonsense. "You okay? You look sad," Beth commented. Tears were starting to build up in your eyes, so you looked at the grass so Beth wouldn't see. 

"Yeah, just cold," you told her. You could feel her stare, like she was studying you. "Don't lie," she pointed out. You were going to respond back, but a body jumping on your back sent you to the ground.

You groaned, now feeling the need to throw up again. "Come on, kid, you know you have to watch your surroundings." You scoffed at hearing the Irish accent. Katie loved sneaking up to attack you; she said it was to improve your reflexes, but you knew it was just an excuse to bully you without getting in trouble for picking on a kid. 

Katie frowned when you stayed on the ground, curled into a ball, tears starting to stream down your face now. 

"Ay, what happened? Did I hurt you?" She asked, kneeling beside you and rubbing your back. "I don't feel good," you said, starting to cry. Beth frowned as she felt your forehead. 

"She's sick." Katie jumped as you got back to your feet and rushed back inside the facility. 

You didn't care who was in your way; you had to make it there. Poor Kyra and Vic were shoved away in the process of getting there, but you finally made it. 

You don't know how long you were there on your knees vomiting your guts out; thankfully, your hair was already tied up for training. 

You whined as someone tried pulling you up, tiredly smacking their arms away. "Breathe." You sobbed hearing Viv's voice. She was the person you needed right now. 

Before you could say anything, you let out another gag. Viv quickly let you go so you could throw up again. 

"It hurts," you whimpered, referring to your stomach. "I know, but come on, the bathroom floor is not a good place to relax," Viv said as she helped you up. You leaned into her for support as she led you back out to the locker room. 

She set you next to Beth, who put an arm around your shoulder and gave you your water bottle while Viv got ready. "Your not feeling good, tiny?" Beth questioned you. You simply let out a painful groan as you grabbed onto her shirt. 

"Come on, mini me, let's get you home." You gave them a confused look, looking around for Leah. "Where's Leah?" Viv and Beth looked at each other, hoping you wouldn't have a full-blown meltdown. 

"She'll see you later; she just needs to do some stuff," Beth tried as she pulled you up and tucked you into her side. 

————

The car ride was oddly peaceful, since you were pretty much out of it. Usually, when you got a ride from the couple, you always begged them to get you ice cream, and it was usually Beth who finally agreed. 

"Can you guys get me ice cream when I feel better?" You asked Viv, who helped you walk inside the house, because you felt like you were about to collapse. 

"I'll get you 3 scoops." Beth set you on the bed and went to run you a bath while Viv took your temperature and got started on making some soup for you. You finally passed out as Viv left the room, staring at the thermometer in her hand, probably contemplating whether to take you to the hospital or not. Beth felt bad when she had to wake you up to take your bath. 

————

You groaned when you were woken up again, this time by Viv. "What?" You questioned her; she simply held up the bowl of soup. "I can't eat," you muttered. "You have to try."

"3 scoops and candy," Viv sighed but nodded. You quickly sat up, quickly regretting it when your head started to hurt more. "My head hurts," Viv could already sense another breakdown coming soon. "Hey, calm down. Just eat some, and we'll get you some medicine." You tiredly nodded, slowly eating now.

"I want Leah." Viv looked at her phone and nodded as she texted Leah a bunch of updates about you. "You have us." Beth said, offended, "Leah is cooler." Beth scoffed, "Your my mini me; your supposed to think I'm cooler."

“But Leah is just cooler; she lets me eat chicken nuggets every night.” You forced yourself to eat a little more of the soup before giving it back to Viv. “She only lets you eat chicken nuggets every night because she can’t make you proper food,” you shrugged, laying back down. 

“Don’t fall asleep; you need to take medicine." Despite that, you still fell asleep. 

————

The girls decided to just let you sleep until Leah got here. Beth muttered a ‘finally’ as she heard a knock on the door. 

All it took was for her to unlock it, and Leah automatically let herself in. “Where is she?” “Spare room,” Viv answered, getting the medicine ready. “What’s in there?” Beth questioned, looking at the bag Leah had. “I got her a teddy bear and chocolate for her when she recovers."

"You already took her temperature?" Viv tried her best not to make a sarcastic remark to Leah, considering how stressed Leah currently was with everything. "Yes, Leah, we gave her water and soup; she took a bath; we were about to give her medicine," you stirred as Leah finally opened the bedroom door. It took your sleepy brain a while to realize it was actually her. 

"Leah," you called out for her. She shoved the bag into Viv's arms and got into bed with you. "Where were you?" She gave you a sad smile, seeing how red your eyes were from crying. "I'm sorry, angel. I wanted to take you home, but they wouldn't let me go until I did my physical."

You quickly laid on top of her so she wouldn't go away again. "It looks like you guys are staying here tonight," Beth grinned, getting your medicine ready. "Open tiny"

You did as she asked. "I told you the bread had mold." You scoffed at Leah's words. “Shut up.” Leah took back the bag from Viv and gave you the teddy bear. 

“You can have the chocolates after your recovery."

“She’s going to have cavities after her recovery,” Beth muttered, but she couldn’t help but aw at the sight of you and Leah. She quickly grabbed her phone and took a bunch of pictures of the sight. 

“Come on, Viv, let’s leave our guest." Viv grinned and walked out behind Beth. “At least they’ll eat proper food."

[reiden]

lovely to be rained on with you | s.hoshina

When your mother becomes a casualty after a Kaiju attack, you're left bursting with anger, and unsure of what to do with it all. The tragedy allows you to meet Vice Captain Hoshina, who seems to have developed a vested interest in you.

cw: gn!reader, angst that ends in fluff, death (reader loses their mother), very reader-centric, word-vomit

— ✦

Raindrops dot the sidewalk, the pavement turning a darker grey as you stare down. Droplets form over the rubber toe caps of your canvas sneakers, and you can feel your socks growing wet, your jeans along with them. The downpour is sudden — as though the heavens want to match you in your temperamental disposition. At least, this way, your gloom can be attributed to the darkened clouds and overcast sky. 

You have only just begun to realise the impermanence of many things. In a world such as this one, it's unwise to place your faith in the longevity of anything; nothing is promised a forever. Not that cactus your grandmother had given you two years ago, not your family's bookstore. Not even your mother's life. 

Her funeral is in the afternoon, meticulously tucked into the hour before your father's work meeting, and after the end of your shift at the convenience store. It's a recent choice of employment — it's only because your previous job was obliterated a month ago. 

The rubble that was once the bookstore your family worked hard to keep. Where you had spent particularly hot summer days, wasting away the hours between the aisles, reading anything and everything you could get your hands on. The memories folded into every nook and cranny had become nothing overnight; you had watched it all on the news. 

This world is cursed, you think. And you are doubly cursed to have been born into it. Water has soaked through your shirt, leaving it to stick to your back uncomfortably. You kick at the sidewalk and sigh, a shiver running down the length of your spine. The earthy smell of the rain, the bitterness in your heart: these things don't meld together all that well. You only grow despondent. 

It shouldn't have been so easy to lose it all. 

Your family had to wait a month for your mother's funeral. The Kaiju Cleaning Company couldn't get her out of the rubble without getting through the dead carcass laying atop it; cleaning was estimated to take 30 days, or even longer.

Fortunately, it had only taken a month. You wonder if your mother holds some kind of resentment that she had been set aside, that life had moved along without slowing to a stop just for her. Your father was given a week to grieve, and then he had to return to work. If you still wanted to fund your final year of university, you needed to find a job — which is what landed you behind the counter of a convenience store, with peeling tiles and not nearly enough books. 

You can taste the rain as it drips down the sides of your face, settling into the corners of your mouth. Your lashes clump together, sticking to your cheeks when you blink. Had you watched the news this morning, you might have known to bring an umbrella; perhaps, then, the sight of you waiting for the bus wouldn't be nearly as pathetic as it is now. 

But you haven't watched the news for the past thirty days. You rely on the emergency alerts that sound throughout the city to let you know when there's a kaiju present. Anything else you could learn from the news isn't nearly important enough for you to sit and listen, hear the same voices that announced the destruction of your bookstore and the death of your mother. 

You exhale shakily, and you pull your phone out just to check the time. It's cold, though it's not all that wet when you feel it in your pocket. It's another thirty minutes until the bus arrives, and then you'll have to shower, fix your hair. You'll have to walk out of your house and face what's left of your mother, tucked away in a casket. And unlike the first week after her death, when your father had been swarmed by reporters eager for an interview, you will only find a few people in attendance.

The interviews have been gruelling, every question dripping with a perverted sense of sympathy, as though they aren't digging through your hurt for a story. Once the news had passed, and there was an even bigger attack to detail in long-winded articles, the news of your bookstore and your mother faded into obscurity. 

A week and three days after the incident, you were visited by a few members of the Defense Force. It had surprised you that they cared enough — their job was done when they killed the kaiju and protected the majority. When you were met with a girl not much older than you, her hair sliced into a sleek bob, and a man with smiling eyes, you had assumed they were reporters. You tried to send them away with hostility, called them any and every insult you could think of, uncaring of what they might write about you. Would it have even mattered? No one else spares a thought over the events of the past. 

They had taken your rage in silence. The girl — Captain Ashiro Mina, you had learned sometime later — softly expressed her condolences. Her counterpart, Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro, had handed you flowers. The conversation was clunky, awkward. Guilt had freely swam in the pit of your stomach for lashing out, and the two of them had clearly chosen to visit on a whim, tripping over their words, hesitating in order to say the right things. 

You were fumbling with the bouquet when Mina turned to leave, and as you shifted your gaze up, Hoshina's eyes were open. He bowed, gave you a meaningful look. "Stay safe," he told you. 

You like to think you have tried to do just that (though catching a cold because of the rain is most definitely in your near future).

-

It's unnervingly quiet as you walk down the hall. Your hands are clasped behind your back, your shoulder brushes against your father's arm. Everything is silent: the car ride, the wait for everyone to arrive, the eulogies. It's been quite a few days since you've cried, and you were beginning to think you had grown desensitised to it. The pain, though it exists, is dull — you've numbed yourself to it as best you can. You don't think you can find it in yourself to cry anymore.

It upsets you all the way to your seat in the front row, mere inches away from your mother. You don't want to forget how much it hurt; how will you remember her otherwise?

And yet, you are proven wrong as everything wraps up. Your head is tucked into your palms, teeth ripping into the skin of your bottom lip as you choke back every pathetic noise that bubbles up your throat. Your shoulders shake and it must be obvious to everyone what you're doing; they must pity you for what you lost. 

Every breath you take feels as though you're sucking in through a straw. It's not nearly enough. Your lungs burn and you press a hand to your chest, feeling every noisy thump of your racing heart. It slams against your ribcage like it wants to be freed from your body. When you can no longer stand to stay in your seat, in this room with your mother laid in a casket — just out of your desperate reach — you rush to leave. 

The funeral home appears rather dreary as it stands behind you. All tall, dark stone walls and rusty windows. The flowers sparsely planted along the perimeter look worse for wear. You suppose it's to be expected from a place that opens up for death. It has been raining all morning, and now all afternoon. You feel it begin to wet your hair and your clothes once more. Your appearance hardly matters — why bother to dress up?

Your eyes flutter shut as you suck in a breath, letting it settle into the pit of your stomach. To the rest of your city, your mother is a thing of the past. Did you hear about the woman who was crushed in that old bookstore? Such a shame. They send you their condolences and don't think twice about checking up on you again. And you could scream and scream about how they're not understanding — you just lost your mother. What are you meant to do without the woman who so graciously gave you half of her body and soul? 

The warmth of a body rips you from your thoughts. You wipe at your eyes, ears twitching at the noise of their shoes crunching over the gravel. They choose to remain quiet; you send them a side-long glance. 

"Vice Captain Hoshina?" The soft lilt in your voice carries your confusion as your brows furrow. "Why are you—"

"Why are you here?"

You study his profile as he shrugs, a crisp suit replacing the uniform he had worn on his visit to your home. His eyes are shut as they often are in the photos you've seen of him, curved like half-moons, but his mouth is pressed into a thin line. "Felt like I should be here," he answers quietly. You watch as his shoulders grow darker from the rain, but before you can tell him to head back inside, he's speaking once again. 

"Want me to go?" 

You answer without thinking much about it, like your mouth had known before your brain could decide. "No," you mutter, sucking in a breath. "Thank you for coming. Not a lot of people who...cared about her then showed up today."

It grows quiet once more. You listen to the gentle sound of the wind whistling through the leaves of trees, and the wet crunch of cars driving down the road behind the funeral home. Hoshina doesn't leave your side, even as the rain picks up, throwing sharp droplets in both your faces. You think about that saying — you don't know what you have until it's gone — and the latter-half that says you knew all along, you just never expected to lose it. Right now, there is some version of you that is living blissfully with their mother by their side; it grates at you to think about. 

Hoshina clears his throat and you smooth over your expression. "She won't be forgotten about," he says, and his voice is so steady that you almost want to believe him. "Well, I can say that I won't forget her."

Some part of you scoffs at his words. It's not enough — no one else will understand your anger at circumstances outside of your control. They won't agree with you when you curse and spit at fate, when you turn your back on your faith. Strangely, however, the other half of you is soothed. As you nod, you note that your bubbling rage has turned into a simmer instead. 

And now, you're not sure what to do with it. Once today ends, you'll be forced to shelve away the mess of feelings brewing in the cavity of your stomach. You'll have to hope that time chooses to heal over your wound instead of leaving you to rot. 

"When's the next intake?" you blurt out. Hoshina tilts his head to face you, one eyebrow raised. You bristle under his stare; it's impressive how you can feel the weight of his eyes even as they remain hidden. "For the Defense Force, I mean — the new recruits." 

His face softens and he heaves a sigh, as though he had known this question would come. Perhaps, it's predictable for you to fall on this path after tragedy. Your story cannot be much different from everyone else. And though you don't appreciate feeling like you are playing into the hands of the very fate you've grown to dislike, you find some comfort in the thought that there are others like you. 

"I won't tell you what to do," he begins slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. The suit creases at the bend of his elbow, his tie shifts from where it had been tucked into the jacket. "You should think it over some more." 

You frown. "Why would it matter to you what I do?" you snap, and the way his brows pinch make you feel like the wounded animal he seems to think you are. Silently, you beg him to throw you a bone. 

"Because it won't give you what you're looking for," Hoshina states simply. His mouth quirks up into a smile, "You won't feel satiated." He draws out his hand, waving his finger back and forth as he hums, "And it's not gonna ease the pain either."

His words only make you frown harder. Your shoulders hunch forward as you curl in on yourself, like a child who has just been chastised. He laughs so suddenly that it makes you jolt. 

"If you're so sure, then you can take the test at the end of the month." He stuffs his hands into his pockets, teetering forward to lean into your space. Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sudden proximity. "Maybe, we'll end up in the same division," he smiles. 

"I'd be nothing more than dead-weight next to Captain Ashiro," you huff, forcing out a laugh as you take a step back. Hoshina straightens up, though he's looking at you with thinly veiled interest — and it makes you stiffen. You shiver, uncertain if the rain is the only cause. 

"I'll drag you along," he grins, like it's nothing. You notice, for the first time, that the Vice Captain has fangs. He leaves you sputtering, which he clearly finds amusing, laughing as he walks away. 

You're soaked from the rain, and so is he. You can only wonder what his intentions are as you stare holes into his back, willing him to explain.

-

Captain Ashiro Mina thumbs her way through the stack of applications, half-heartedly skimming over their names and faces. Hoshina hovers nearby, trying his best to appear disinterested. He stares at her desk, at the walls of her office, out the window — but his eyes never stray from the applications for too long. 

"Are you looking for someone specific?" Mina asks, looking up at him pointedly. Hoshina grimaces, momentarily feeling embarrassed though it's only over the fact that he'd been caught. 

"Nope," he lies. "Just bored, you know. I was looking at the possible recruits to pass the time."

Mina doesn't believe him in the slightest, that much is obvious from the way she raises her brows. Her mouth curves into an almost imperceptible smile. Fortunately for Hoshina, she doesn't mention how he's standing in her office of his own free will, and not on her orders. 

She flips to the next application. Hoshina moves before he can stop himself, grabbing the sheet of paper. There's a pregnant pause where neither of them speak, and Mina breaks it with a clipped laugh. 

It's too late for him to feel embarrassed about it. You look serious in your photo; there's a darkness beneath your eyes that wasn't there when he had seen you at the funeral. Hoshina turns the application around, allowing Mina to take a better look. He watches as vague recognition flashes through her gaze. 

"Can I put in a request?" Hoshina asks.

"They applied for Operations." 

"Even better." 

Hoshina is not usually so bold with his Captain. Mina had done more than enough when she opened up a space for him to fill, when she allowed him to do what he does best. There must be something about you, then, that has him behaving out of character. 

Mina nods, "I'll try — no promises." Hoshina can only grin in response. She speaks again, "Is this the one you stood out in the rain with?"

He'd gotten a nasty cold after doing that, coming back to the base with his suit drenched and his fringe plastered to his forehead. He doesn't respond, which is all the answer Mina needs.

[ellecdc]

L…. idk if youre up for mega angst…. but how did cbbh sirius take the news of vix’s disappearance + death as it happened 🥲 like i cant imagine how deathly nervous he’d be at headquarters, hearing about the attack and anxiously waiting for his bestfriend and partner, holding out hope that they’d walk through the door with battle scars but alive …. Then a few hours later only James returns 🥲🥲🥲 pain

I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this *sniffles and throws this at you all* I hope it was worth it, because I'm calling the police (thank you for your support and your request, I love you)

CW: hurt/NO comfort, (believed) death of a loved one, grief, physical injuries, vomiting

I'll Find You

Lily had a bad feeling about this.

Granted, that was nothing new about this war, but something felt intrinsically wrong right now.

Lily and Sirius had gotten a message from Dumbledore stating Benjy and Emmeline had portkeyed back to headquarters to report on their findings, while Jamie and Y/N stayed behind to finish up the stakeout. 

Sirius met Lily at her and James’ flat where they decided to head to headquarters to await your arrivals.

The only way to access the headquarters was through portkey – for security purposes – meaning that upon arrival, Lily spent about twenty minutes having to soothe an upset baby Harry.

“Portkey is no way for babies to travel, huh Haz?” Sirius cooed at his godson. 

Lily wanted to smile at the view, but she couldn’t shake this heavy feeling in her stomach.

“Something’s wrong, Pads.” She murmured.

Sirius grimaced. “I don’t feel great about this either. I mean, two days of silence at a supposed Death Eater meet-up? What’s that about?”

They followed the sound of gentle conversation when they found Dumbledore and Minerva conversing with Benjy and Emmeline.

“We saw nothing yesterday. I think we need to consider where this intel is coming from because they were either way off or are planning something sinister.” Benjy could be heard saying, causing Sirius to suck in a sharp breath.

“Thank you, Mr. Fenwick. I’ll let you know when we have word.” Dumbledore said as he dismissed the two Order members.

“Mr. Black, Mrs. Potter. And baby Harry...” McGonagall was all business until she spotted the small infant in Lily’s arms. “May I?” She asked.

Lily handed over the child who went with little-to-no fuss.

“What happens if this tip was a bust?” Sirius asked Dumbledore.

Dumbledore took in a breath and looked between his two former students.

“If the tip ends up being wrong, or worse – fabricated – we may need to consider moving the Potter’s into hiding.”

Lily groaned. “There’s a chance the Death Eaters don’t even know about the prophecy.”

“Yes, but desperate people go to great lengths when they feel threatened. We do not want them to find out and, in turn, find you.” Dumbledore argued.

Lily understood; really, she did. But her maternity leave already had her feeling like she was in hiding, and she was sick and tired of feeling so useless. 

“There are Voldemort sympathisers in the Ministry, Red. We have no idea what they could know.” Sirius pointed out.

Sirius and Dumbledore spent the next while discussing different aspects of the war, next steps, new leads, past battles, and Sirius’ job at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement before Lily couldn’t take it anymore.

“What time were they supposed to report back?” She spat.

Dumbledore’s eyes moved to consider the redhead. “We agreed no later than 21:30. 

Lily looked down at her watch. “Well, it’s 21:45.”

The three sat in silence as they let that fact wash over them.

“They left at 07:45 this morning,” Sirius supplied.

“They met with Em and Benjy before apparating to the location together and scouting the area.” Lily added.

“Okay so fourteen hours in the field? That’s too much.” 

“It’s not too much if there hasn’t been any activity.” Dumbledore argued.

Sirius stood up suddenly. “We need to go. Where’s this location?”

“Son, that is not how things work. We cannot risk giving away our intel or sending more people into the front lines of a battle.”

“That’s my partner out there, and my best friend – I cannot stand here and do nothing.” Sirius spat furiously.

“You can, and you will, Mr. Black.” He challenged.

“We’ll give them 45 minutes. If we haven’t received a patronus from them in that time, we’ll reconvene.” McGonagall placated.

Sirius spent the next 37 minutes pacing a hole in the concrete floor beneath him whilst Lily chewed a hole into her lip.

The ringing sound of a portkey suddenly echoed through the room before a figure fell unceremoniously into the wall and slid to the ground. Lily could tell by the size and the sobbing that it was James.

“What happened?!” Sirius barked as all four adults stood and made their way to James.

“Trap. Trapped, it...” James huffed between sobs and coughs before he leaned over and threw up on the floor.

“What’s trapped?” Dumbledore inquired as Harry started to fuss in McGonagall’s arms.

“Minerva, can you take Harry away please?” Lily pleaded. The matriarch offered a quick nod and left the room with the infant. 

“Death Eaters - it was a trap - she knew.” James got out through gasps.

He was covered in ash and dirt with various wounds bleeding along his person.

“Who knew?” Lily asked.

“Vix! She knew!” He screamed in agony.

“Where is she?” Sirius asked quietly.

James continued trying to breathe through his hyperventilating.

“WHERE IS SHE?!” 

“She’s gone, Pads, she...” James paused as he threw up again. Lily couldn’t tell if he was sick from his grief or his wounds. Perhaps both.

“No, no. She’s not gone. She was just with you. You left with her this morning.” Sirius argued calmly. “Where is she?”

James shook his head as his face crumpled in agony and tears spilled from his eyes.

“She saved me, she...she made sure I got out. I’m sorry, Sirius.”

“I don’t need you to be SORRY, I need you to TELL ME WHERE SHE IS.” Sirius bellowed.

“Sirius...” Lily whispered.

“Fuck OFF. Where IS SHE? WHERE IS SHE?”

“Sirius, son, I need you to calm down.” Dumbledore spoke quietly.

“I need to find her. I’ll find her. Tell me where she is. Where is she?”

“She’s GONE. She’s GONE, I FUCKING KILLED HER IT’S ALL MY FAULT.” James sobbed.

“She can’t fucking be gone! She can’t! I just kissed her goodbye this morning, I just saw her! SHE WAS JUST WITH YOU.”

“There were anti-apparition wards up when she started to be concerned about – about it being a trap since we hadn’t seen anything all day. There was fiendfyre. They were burning the fucking building down. Then I was hit and I...I don’t know. She got us out, and then...and-and then a bombarda and she...”

“No.” Sirius said plainly.

“Pads.”

“No.”

“She told me, she told me to go. She said-”

“No.”

“She told me to thank you for her, that she didn’t regret a thing.”

“No.”

“That she was so grateful for you, and that loving you was worth every minute of it. She’d do it again.”

“Stop.” Sirius begged miserably. 

“She said she loved you.”

“SHE DIDN’T LOVE ME. SHE LOVES ME.” Sirius screamed.

“She loves me NOW! Not loved me past! I have to find her. I have to find her. Red,” He turned his sights to Lily.

“Please, please. I have to find her. Please, I have to. I’ll find her. Please.”

Lily’s tears were streaming down her face. “I’m sorry, Sirius.”

“Don’t be sorry! Don’t, I-” He looked desperately to everyone in the room.

“I don’t want anyone to be sorry! I just want her! I need her, please...” he sobbed.

“I’m sorry.” James repeated.

“STOP FUCKING SAYING THAT!”

“Sirius.” Lily murmured.

“I have been on countless missions with your wife, and I have always brought her home, back to you!” Sirius spat furiously at James. “I’ve never let anything happen to your wife. I TRUSTED YOU! Y/N... she-she trusted you!”

James sobbed again as his face contorted in agony.

“Sirius, that’s not fair.” Lily pleaded.

“Fuck off! What’s not fair is you get to go home with your husband tonight and Y/N is gone.” Sirius bellowed as his face fell in realization. “She’s gone.” He whispered. 

The room fell painfully silent as Sirius stared into space, murmuring to himself.

“She loved me...not loves me...I said goodbye...a kiss, she had breakfast, what did she eat? What did she have for breakfast this morning.  Oh gods, I can’t remember.”

“Sirius.” Lily asked gently as she went to touch his shoulder. He flinched away from her.

“I think she had cereal; it was cereal. She had cereal for breakfast. I think her bowl is still in the sink. Oh gods, her things. All of her things. She can’t be gone? She can’t be gone...I have all of her things. She needs her things...she’s-” He was cut off by a shuddering breath.

“My girl.” He whispered in agony. 

The other three members let Sirius gather his thoughts before his eyes flew to Lily.

“Lily...she...”

“I know, Pads.”

“I can’t do this without her.”

“I know, Pads.”

The heavy weight of the loss began to settle amongst the friends before Dumbledore spoke solemnly. 

“I think it’s time the Potter’s go into hiding.”

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

I'll come pick it up after pt.4

John Egan X Female! Reader

Sumarry: The morning of the mission, Bucky becomes overprotective of HIS nurse.

Warning: Historical inaccuracies/ Swearing/ insults/ blood/ violence/ use of Y/n/ crying/

Word count: 1,8k

When they both went to sleep that night, they kept thinking about what just happened in the woman’s office. They almost had sex, in her office. Bucky was thinking about her hand on his crotch, and his hand on her breast. And he kept thinking about the fact that she put his hand there. His jacket had her scent, it drove him mad. Buck was apologizing for interrupting them, he felt bad. ‘’Buck, I told you many times, it’s okay. You’re right, I have to sleep. I’m not mad at you, and I don’t think Y/n’s mad either’’ he said to his friend. ‘’So, Elodie, uh, what did you say to her?’’ they talked about the young nurse, how Buck was nervous to talk to her, but he went anyway.

Y/n was tossing and turning, she couldn’t sleep. Egan’s touch was still in her mind, she couldn’t get him off her mind. So, she got up, she was dress in her night gown. She put a vest on top of it, so if she got cold, she could have something to warm her up. She made her way to the kitchen, to take an apple and something non alcoholic to drink. When she entered the kitchen, there was a light on. Curious, she made her way to the light, cautiously she announced herself. ‘’Hello?’’ a voice responded. She entered the kitchen to find Harry Crosby. ‘’Oh, Harry, it’s you.’’ She said relived. ‘’Didn’t mean to scare you, what are you doing up at this time?’’ he asked. ‘’Can’t sleep, you?’’ ‘’Same thing’’ they both smiled at each other. ‘’I saw you, at the party, but you were busy with Egan, I didn’t want to interrupt’’ he starts. ‘’How are you adapting to the base?’’ he asks. ‘’It’s fine, the girls are amazing, and the soldiers are, welcoming.’’ She smiled at the last word she pronounced. ‘’I heard that you got the eyes of Egan. Is that why you were with him all night’’ Y/n chuckles and blush a little. Crosby’s eyes went on the necklace she was wearing. ‘’And why you’re wearing his necklace, what’s going on between the two of you?’’ She looked at her friend. ‘’Honestly, Croz, I have no idea. I just know that there’s a tension between us and yeah.’’ She spoke. For the record, she had no idea what her relationship with Bucky was. ‘’Just be careful, he’s a lady’s men’’ he warned her. ‘’Trust me, I know that, but thank you for caring.’’ She was thankful for Harry Crosby. When he came in her office for the first time, it was because he kept vomiting when he was in the air. After that, he came back to tell her that the medicine she gave him, worked. They kept talking, but they were great friends, since he was married, Y/n didn’t have to worry about him making a move on her.

Y/n woke up at 4:30 am, she and her nurse had to make breakfast for the soldiers. She put on her blue uniform, her hair was still in the braid crown from yesterday, so she kept it that way. When the nurses came in the kitchen, they were surprised to see Gale Cleven already there. Elodie smiled at him, Meatball, as usual, went to see Y/n. ‘’Hi doggie! How are you!’’ she petted the animal, while his owner came towards her. ‘’Good morning, Y/n, can I speak with you?’’ he asked. ‘’Sure, just give me one minute, I need to tell the girls the menu’’ she instructed the girls what to do and went to speak to Buck. They seated at an empty table. ‘’What are you doing up, this early?’’ ‘’I want to apologize for yesterday, for interrupting you and Bucky. What you guys were doing is none of my business, and I just wanted to apologize’’ The girl smiled, the men in front of her looked nervous. ‘’Thank you for apologizing, but don’t worry, Bucky is a soldier, he must have a good night of sleep before a mission. I’m not mad at you’’ she reassured Buck. He looked relived. ‘’Can you look after Meatball when we’re not here? And I promise to look after Bucky’’ he extended his hand, to make it official. She smiled and shook his hand.

The boys were starting to come in to get their breakfast. Y/n was supervising her girls, making sure everything was okay, that none of the soldiers were mean to them. ‘’I told you, my food is cold, bitch!’’ a soldier yelled at one of the nurses. Y/n quickly came at the scene. ‘’What’s going on, private?’’ She said to the soldier, behind her counter. ‘’God can any of those cunts hear me! MY FOOD IS COLD’’ He yelled, getting everyone’s attention in the cafeteria. ‘’Go help Daisy, I got this Mary’’ she told the nurse that was getting yelled at. She took a deep breath and than, looked at the men straight in the eyes. ‘’First of all, don’t ever disrespect my girls like that, we volunteered, just like you. Geeting yelled at by pricks like you wasn’t in the contract.’’ The men tried to talk, but Y/n shushed him. ‘’Second of all, we serve dozens of men, the portions are already made, you just got one that we made early this morning. If you ask nicely, maybe I can personally warm it up for you.’’ She tried to be nice, but he was getting on his nerves.

The men yelling caught the attention of every soldier. Including John Egan’s attention. His back was facing the scene, so he didn’t see that it was Y/n getting yelled at. ‘’I won’t ask nicely, isn’t it in your contract to serve warm food, bitch’’ He was speaking loudly, but since the room went quiet, everyone could hear the altercation. ‘’Isn’t it basic manners to speak nicely at a woman.’’ Y/n responded quietly. ‘’God this nurse doesn’t let him be mean to her’’ Bucky whispered to his friends. ‘’Isn’t it your nurse?’’ Curt stated, pointing at the nurse. Bucky turned around to see HIS nurse, getting yelled at by the men. He was about to get up, but Buck put a hand on his shoulder, to stop him from getting up he didn't want his friend to get in trouble. Plus Y/n looked like she handled the men by herself. Every man in the room was watching the scene. ‘’What did you say to me, skank’’ The angry men spat in the face of the chief nurse. ‘’Do you want your warm meal, or not?’’ The men took his plate and threw it at Y/n, the plate broke on the glass, but a piece went at her, cutting her on the cheek. Egan wanted to rip his head off, he hurt his nurse. ‘’Congratulation, you lost your meal, and you’re gonna get arrested for assault. Have a good day sir’’ she said as the military police arrested the men. ‘’Everyone goes back to your plates!’’ one of the Corporal said. Egan quickly got up and went to the medic center, which was next door, to see if she was okay.

Y/n was holding a tissue to her cheek, to stop the bleeding. She was still in shook of what just happened. How could’ve stayed so calm? Her head was down, she was just feeling so many emotions at the time. She heard the door open. ‘’I’ll give you my statement after I clean my wound’’ she said to the military police. ‘’I don’t need your statement, darling, I was there’’ Bucky said as she raised her head to look at him. He approached her, getting closer to her, he could see the food on her skirt, the blood on her shirt and her eyes, full of tears. ‘’I’m okay, really, it was nothing’’ she said, her voice breaking down. ‘’Let’s go in your office, it’ll be quieter’’ he proposed. She nodded, following him to her office. Where they were last night, but there wasn’t any tension in the air now. Bucky was angry, this dick had hurt his girl. As soon as the door was closed, she started crying. ‘’I don’t even know why I’m crying. He got arrested and I only have a small cut. I’m okay, really’’ she said with a lump in her throat, she didn’t want to appear vulnerable in front of him. ‘’Let me look, darling’’ ‘’Bucky, I’m okay, go back to your friends’’ she tries to push him away. ‘’Not until you’re okay. Do you need a hug?’’ She nodded and he opened his arms, Y/n came closer to him. She cried in his arms as he reassured her, telling her that everything was going to be okay, that she was safe with him. When she felt better, she took the tissue off her wound, Bucky didn’t know anything about medicine, but he got her what she said she needed and help her, the best he could. ‘’Now, can you give me a smile, darling’’ she smiled to him, it wasn’t a forced smile, she was happy that he was here. ‘’I’m leaving for my mission soon, but when I come back, I’m going to get my necklace back, keep it safe from pirates’’ Bucky joked. Again, she laughed. ‘’Don’t ask anyone to punch you in the face this time’’ she adds, this time, Egan’s laughing. ‘’Be careful out there, come back in one piece’’ she seriously said. He nodded and kissed the top of her head. ‘’Kiss me, before you leave, please’’ He did as she asked and kissed her. There weren’t any sexual tensions, they were kissing because she asked him to do so, because even if they don’t want to admit it to each other, this might be the last time they see each other. ‘’I’m serious, Major, come back to me’’ she said as he left the room. ‘’Promise’’ he said before going back to his friends.

It was the time for him to leave, she went to the runway with other nurses. Crosby ran to her, she had to give him medicine, but he wanted to know if she was okay. ‘’Oh, my lord, Y/n are you oaky?’’ he hugged her. As he broke the hug, he looked at her face. ‘’Nothing I can’t fix, here’s your medicine Croz, be careful’’ She handed him the pills. Harry took the pills and left. Bucky and Buck walked towards her. ‘’Are you alright?’’ Buck asked. She nodded. ‘’More scared than hurt’’ she said. ‘’Meatball’s coming, hold on I’ll get him’’ Buck says as he leaves. ‘’No sad stuff. Just think about the cross around my neck’’ she said. ‘’I will darling, I’ll come back, and we can continue where we left off last night.’’ She blushed and chuckled. She gently hit his shoulder, indicating him to go in his plane. Bucky winked at you before getting inside. Buck gave you Meatball. ‘’Don’t forget your part of the deal’’ she said, getting a nod from Buck. He swore to protect his best friend, that’s what he was going to do, until Bucky was back in her arms.

Part 5⬇️

[bonknigirlinthehood]

Daycare Day!!

HSR Daddies x Child!Reader (platonic)

Characters: Blade, Jing Yuan, Gepard, Sampo, Welt, Dan Heng and Luocha, and gn! reader(separate).

Synopsis: Hsr men's reaction to leaving their child at daycare for the first time.

CW: Family Relationship, Father-Child content.

TW: none

author's note: this is purely a word vomit. might contain bad grammar or spelling, and yes i have favoritism towards Blade and Jing Yuan.

BLADE

Blade doesn't like it when he must leave you with someone else during his mission. The other Stellaron Hunters are very busy and cannot help watching over you, not even Elio so he had no choice but to put you in a daycare for the time being.

 He makes sure to check the security of the daycare, even paying a huge amount just to add more security in there.

Making sure you know how to call him whenever you are in danger. 

Hates when there's another phone number in your (temporary) phone other than him, but for your sake, he allows you to have his colleagues numbers to call or chat.

Will put a different ringtone only for your contact, so he'll know if it's you who are calling or sending him messages.

Gets anxious when there's no chat or call from you for quite some time (even though Kafka makes sure not to spam your father with chats or else he'll get distracted from his job).

Constantly checking his phone whenever he can to see if you send any message.

At one point he will be the one who sends you a message first asking if you are doing fine at the daycare, if they give you food, or if you get bullied. 

The moment he is done with his work Blade immediately goes to the daycare and picks you up.

You will look happy and fine, a contrast to your father who looks stressed.

But his expression will brighten up the moment he sees your happy face.

Very anxious dad 0/10 he won't do it again (Kafka makes him do it again in the future because he had no other choices).

JING YUAN

He was sad to leave you alone, but with his secretary and Tingyun's assurance, he finally obliged.

Will make sure you get treated just as well as when you were with him.

Will give you allowance money to spend!.

Send you messages every 30 minutes.

He will ask Tingyun to send him some of your photos or even videos.

His knights would catch him giggling at his phone whenever he was doing a video call with you.

Constantly saying 'I miss my baby~' and 'Papa can't sleep without my baby kissing me :('

Fu Xuan would help watch over you, and will cringe whenever Jing Yuan makes those voices to you during the call.

Won't waste any time going to his office, he will go straight to where you were.

Fu Xuan knows he won't go to his office so she waits with you.

Jing Yuan would open the door with a big smile and arms open wide, waiting for you to run towards him.

And you will run and hug him, only for your father to notice Fi Xuan throwing daggers through her eyes.

She will scold Jing Yuan for not making a report and said if he doesn't finish it before your bedtime, she will revoke your permission to enter his office.

Both of you were shocked when she said that, and you gave him sad puppy eyes, saying "if papa doesn't work…i can't visit you anymore…".

Jing Yuan will immediately do a Speedrun of his reports. He can't work without you as his mental support!! He needs to keep you able to enter his office whenever you want to!.

Fu Xuan couldn't believe that threat would work. Your father totally forgot the fact his position is higher than hers 😭. 

GEPARD

Would leave you with Serval.

He loves his sister to death but oh how worried he was to left you alone with her💀.

You weren't given a phone so whenever Gepard wanted to ask how you are doing he'll need to ask though his sister.

Serval would send him photos and videos of you trying to sing and play musical instruments, and Gepard would chuckle at it.

Silvermane Guards will constantly see him glued to his phone during breaks (they think it's kinda cute).

Would do a sleep video call. He would video call Serval only to see you already in bed, wishing him to get back as soon as possible.

He would call again in the morning. Greeting your sleepy figure and getting a 'good luck' for today from you was the thing that got him going throughout the day.

Would buy you gifts on his way back.

Very happy to see you greeting him on the door and giving him a hug.

SAMPO

Put you under Natasha for obvious reasons.

Continuously asking her how you are doing to the point she actually mutes him for distracting her from working.

He said he will leave you for a day but he keeps showing up to the clinic almost every hour.

Same as Gepard, he would buy gifts on his way back.

He trusts Natasha, that's for sure, but he can't help but feel anxious about his bby! :( 

When he gets back, Natasha will scold him for giving you too much unhealthy food, even going so far as to give him a book full of recipes about food for kids.

Yet after the two of you were out and far away enough from the clinic, Sampo would pull out a back of fast food he got from overworld and your eyes gleamed at the sight. 

"If you promise not to tell Nat about this~" he makes the shush motion with his finger, and you nod vigorously. "Yes!, Yes!, I promise!".

The two of you happily eat the food together while you listening to Sampo's story about the overworld.

WELT

Was a bit anxious to leave you on a daycare of an unknown planet, but Himeko calms him quickly about it.

"It's okay, Welt. This will be a good experience" . "I know, but still…*sighs*"

Every 2 or 3 hours, Welt would send you a message, asking if you are okay being there.

Would daze off overthinking if you are okay at the daycare.

When talking with an important person from that planet, he will make sure everything goes smoothly and quickly so he can go pick you up asap.

Welt would drag Himeko to quickly go to the daycare.

Would check first if you got any injuries on your body before hugging you.

Will bring you to a nearby restaurant to eat dinner together alongside his other (not so) kids.

DAN HENG

Anxious? Anxious.

Dan Heng would swarm Welt with questions about the best daycare to go to.

His preparation, if not top notch, was too much. Even Welt had to warn him to not pack too many things onto the bag.

Dan Heng would be the type that needs so much reassurance. It's okay sir, your kid's going to be fine.

When he finally lets you go and walk away, he'll turn his head around every 5 steps, as if thinking this wasn't a good idea at all.

Would try to call you several times during the day, in which you answer every time; "I'm fine, papa!"

Buys cake for you when he is done with whatever job he is on.

When he arrives at the daycare, you would have already fallen asleep and the teacher had to carry you out of the room.

Dan Heng will immediately feel relaxed after seeing your face. He snuggles to you to comfort himself (my man is a dragon do not forgor).

LUOCHA

My man would do shit ton of research before finally deciding which daycare he would trust you into.

Like Blade, he would pay a hefty sum just to add additional security.

Luocha needs to calm you down at first because you refused to go to the daycare.

"It's alright…daddy will pick you up at 5pm. Be good for me, hm?"

Give a lot of kisses on your cheeks and forehead.

The type of dad that is always thinking about you whenever he passes by something and ended up buying it.

"That hair ornament would look good on my child, I should buy it". "Oh this children's book is popular, i should buy it too". "Oh and this–"

By the time he got back to the daycare, there would be many shopping bags around him.

You would run into him immediately and start babbling on what you did throughout the day. 

Luocha would bring you over to one of the most expensive restaurant in Luofu.

He also diligently listens to you while trying all the new accessories he bought on you.

Gosh this man spoiled you so much, well maybe a bit too much, but he can't help it since his baby is too cute!.

[meatonfork]

How do you think 141 would take care of grim if they got sick? And would grim take care of the team when they got sick? Price probably has a really loud dad sneeze :o

I really love your writing but make sure you don't burn out from working so hard!! <3

Sick Days

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pairings: platonic 141 x grim

warnings: none i believe

summary: hc's of grim taking care of the boys and vice versa when sick

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Ghost

when grim is sick

he isn't outward with his affection, he never really is

will sneak into grim's room to place food on their desk or nightstand while they're sleeping

if the sickness requires medicine, bet your ass he's sneaking that shit in there too

will lightly pet their hair out of their face

pulls the blankets up when they almost fall off the bed

if grim is super sick, they will require cuddles and ghost will hesitantly oblige

holds their hair back as they throw up

grim notices everything he does

just because they're sick doesn't mean they're incompetent or unaware

when ghost is sick

is aware he isn't the most affectionate

they try to reciprocate the silent gestures back because they know he'll appreciate it more than outward caring

will let him use their favorite blanket

is very surprised when he let's grim turn on a movie and cuddle with him

if he throws up, grim will wait patiently in his room until he's done so they can shove water down his throat

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Soap

when grim is sick

he will make fun of them

"well, why'd you get sick in the first place, dummy?"

"fuck off soap."

even if grim doesn't want them (which is rare), he will force cuddles

gets everything they ask for, but makes it seem like such a draining task

cringes when grim throws up.

will not look them in the eye while helping them

throws a rag at them so they can clean them-self

when soap is sick

a whiny baby

thinks it's the end of the fucking world

grim gets so fed up, but is patient

when soap is sick, he gets really sweaty, so grim is very reluctant in sick soap cuddles

ends up covered in his snot tissues and almost throws up

pets his hair because he falls asleep faster

makes sure there is a bowl by his bed at all times in case he throws up again

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Gaz

when grim is sick

grim has him wrapped around their little finger

does everything they ask- no hesitation

"yes, grim. yes." salutes as he rushes off to get water

makes sure their bed is the comfiest thing they will ever lay on

fluffs the pillows

washes the blankets

crowds them with stuffed animals

puts on their favorite movie and sleeps with them

when grim throws up, gaz is right next to them

holding their hair, rubbing circles in their back, and whispering reassuring words in their ears

if grim is too tired to get up from the floor, he will carry them back to bed

when gaz is sick

gaz has grim wrapped around his finger

gives him the best treatment because he does the same to them

"yes, gaz. yes." salutes as they rush off to get new socks

gives him the best cuddles he's ever received

he is putty in their hands

when gaz throws up, grim almost cries because they feel so bad for him

helps him back to bed and lets him just put his dead weight on them

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Price

when grim is sick

full dad mode

takes temperature every 30 minutes

forces medicine down

will help grim into a cold shower when their temperature is way too high

chicken noodle and crackers is all he will feed them

"it's the best remedy, kid. let me do my job."

will cuddle, but not for long

when grim throws up, he is totally unfazed and has a towel ready to clean off their face for them

helps grim change clothes

when price is sick

he is also a baby who whines

grim also only gives him chicken noodle and crackers

"it's the best remedy, cap."

he does not appreciate being mocked like this

when price throws up, they clean up his beard and mustache but almost vomits them-self

but, they care too much to not do it

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a/n : thank you for reading!! <3

[writercole]

Cat's Out of the Bag

Summary: Jake has secrets Words: 1500ish Warnings: angsty-ish, twist, found family, Jake Seresin. A/N: I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW HAPPY I AM THAT I HAVE MUSES FOR SOMEONE OTHER THAN CHARLES LECLERC RIGHT NOW. A/N 2: Enjoy this word vomit that took all of 30 minutes to write.

Jake Seresin sat quietly at the bar, his fingers twirling the short glass of whiskey in front of him. The behavior struck the entire bar as out of character, the blond pilot’s general demeanor being loud, boastful, and needing to be the center of attention.

“What’s wrong with him?” Rooster whispered to Coyote.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Coyote, you’re his best friend. You know more than any of the rest of us will ever hope to know. What is wrong with Hangman?”

Coyote sighed as he looked over at the man seated at the bar. He knew there were things the team didn’t know, things Jake didn’t want them to know. But the pleading stares of their co-workers wore him down. “His wife left.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Rooster stammered.

The only one in the group unfazed by the news of the cocky pilot’s spouse was Bob, something that didn’t shock Coyote at all.

“So you’re telling me,” Phoenix started, setting her beer down, “that not only has Bagman been married this whole time, but now he’s pouting at the bar because she’s gone?”

“He’s never mentioned a wife, though,” Fanboy commented.

“I can’t believe he’d do that to his wife,” Payback scoffed. “No wonder she left.”

“Do what to her?” Coyote questioned, his tone defensive as he squared his shoulders.

“The women, the drinking, you know, his basic weekend,” Payback clarified.

“The women he never left with? The ones he bought a drink for and sent to someone else? The max of two beers he nursed through the night while buying us multiple rounds?” Coyote rebutted, his temper flaring as he stared down the other pilot.

“We never actually saw anything besides talking,” Bob added with a shrug.

“Not only are you telling us that Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin is not the ladies man he pretended to be, but that he’s married.” Fanboy shook his head and swallowed a mouthful of beer as he processed the information.

“I’m honestly surprised no one else picked up on it,” Coyote shrugged, relaxing a little after Bob took his side.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Phoenix asked.

“Not my place to tell. Besides, Jake asked me for discretion.”

“And you, Bob?”

“No one asked me. Besides, I don’t like betraying my friends’ confidence.”

“They knew you know?!” Fanboy stared, slack-jawed at the quiet backseater, mentally running through all of their conversations for any mention of the crucial detail.

“She’s got a killer brownie recipe,” Bob squeaked as his cheeks reddened with the attention focused on him.

“What are we going to do?” Rooster sighed as he watched his rival toss a bill on the counter and leave his unfinished drink.

“I have an idea,” Phoenix smirked.

Jake sighed as he put away the last plate. Seven o’clock on a Saturday morning and he had worked out for two hours, cooked and ate breakfast, showered, and cleaned the entire house.

He always had trouble sleeping alone.

His brows furrowed when he heard a knock on the front door. His muscles tensed and he crept forward quietly, shaking his head and relaxing when he saw who was there.

“Hey Jake!” a chorus greeted as he opened the door to his squad.

“Guys, what are you doing here?” Jake questioned, his eyes boring into Coyote’s forehead as his best friend actively avoided his gaze.

“Coyote mentioned what happened a few days ago and Phoenix – oof – we decided to come hang out for the day,” Rooster explained with the help of Phoenix’s elbow.

“Guys, really, it’s fine -”

“We aren’t leaving until after lunch at the earliest,” Phoenix interrupted.

Jake regarded the brunette carefully before stepping aside and allowing his friends into his home. “Shoes,” he barked to the four who weren’t already removing their footwear.

“Nice place you have here Ba- Jake,” Fanboy complimented as he took in the bright spaces.

“Thanks. It’s small but it’s home,” Jake replied. “Living room’s through here.” He led them to a spacious room with vaulted ceilings, built in bookcases framing a large television set.

“Call of Duty?” He asked as he picked up a controller and powered on a gaming console.

Payback was quick to pick up the second controller and settle into an armchair. “Man, we live Call of Duty. You got Madden?”

“Do I have Madden? Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Phoenix and Rooster shared a look of relief at the almost immediate improvement in their friend’s mood.

Several hours and a coffee table covered in snacks later, Jake was yelling instructions at Bob on which buttons to press to run a play that would win the match against Phoenix.

The overlapping voices in the room were so loud that they didn’t hear the door open and shut.

“Jakey, what is all of this?” An amused voice called out over the ruckus.

“Baby, you’re back!” Jake shouted as he vaulted across the room, leaping over bodies like a golden retriever to scoop the woman up in his arms and twirl her around. His lips met hers as her feet dangled off the ground, the pair of them oblivious to the way all noise had stopped.

“Jake, please put me down. I’m getting sick!”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized as he set her feet back on the floor.

“Will someone please explain what’s going on?” Fanboy said.

“Hi, I’m Jake’s wife,” she giggled as Jake wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You must be the rest of his squad. Fanboy, Phoenix, Payback and...Chicken? Right?”

Jake stifled his laughter with her shoulder as Rooster gawked at her. “Rooster, not chicken.”

“I’m so sorry,” she blurted. “I just hadn’t been able to put faces to the names Jake always mentioned.”

“Coyote said you left,” Rooster stated.

“Yeah, I had to go home for a few days for a dress fitting. Jake’s sister is getting married next month.”

“Is everything else okay?” Jake questioned, taking her attention back to him.

“Yeah, your mom sends her love. Gran can’t wait. You know, everyone so excited for everything.”

“Did Leah agree to our idea?”

“Oh my god she’s thrilled, Jake! I wish you could have seen her face! As maid of honor and best man, we’ll do a joint speech at the rehearsal.”

“And the other thing?”

“Of course she and Derek agreed!”

“Hey, uh, there’s five –“ Rooster stopped and looked at Bob who seemed like he would melt into the couch with relief – “okay, four very confused squad mates here need to know what the fuck is going on.”

“Can I? PLEASE JAKE!?” she pleaded as she turned to face her husband. He nodded slightly and she squealed, planting a kiss to his cheek before rushing out of the room.

“Coyote, what did you tell them?” Jake asked as he took in the faces of his friends around the room.

“I said your wife left,” Coyote shrugged.

“That’s ALL he said!” Payback shouted.

“Bob, you didn’t tell them either?”

“BOB KNEW?!”

“Bob is technically family at this point. My sister, Leah, is marrying his brother, Derek,” Jake explained as his wife came back with a small bundle.

She handed Jake a box and unfurled a piece of cloth, grinning as gasps rang out around the room.

“Coming soon...baby Seresin,” Rooster read aloud.

“You’re pregnant!” Phoenix exclaimed, crossing the room to give her congratulations up close.

“So...you’re married, your wife didn’t leave you for good, and she’s having your kid?” Fanboy scrunched his face as he attempted to process the information he’d been given in such a small amount of time.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Jake confirmed with a grin, his arm wrapped around his wife’s waist as Phoenix begged for details.

“Jake, baby, why don’t we throw something on the grill for everyone?” she asked as she looked up at him.

“If that’s what you want, absolutely,” he responded with a kiss to her head.

“It would be nice to get to know everyone. Now that all of the cats are out of their respective bags.”

“You’re going to make me socialize outside of work with them, aren’t you?” Jake pouted.

“Well, we already see Bob and Javy all the time. We might as well throw in the rest as well.”

Jake groaned dramatically, smiling when he saw how happy the idea made her. “Fine. Coyote, you’re coming to the store with me. Bob, you keep her off of her feet.”

“I’m not telling her what to do,” Bob balked.

“Don’t worry, baby,” she cooed as she turned his face to her and kissed his lips again. “I will sit down in that chair and not move until it’s time for dinner.”

“Good.”

“Sorry for letting the cat out of the bag, man,” Coyote  apologized, clapping his shoulder.

“Maybe I should have done it sooner,” Jake mused. “It seems to make her happy to have another girl around.”

Jake slipped on his shoes and grabbed his keys, turning back before stepping out of the door. These people may not be blood, but they were his family.

[andhumanslovedstories]

Hey so your post about pain management as a bedside nurse is so important to my own nursing practice that I've considered printing it out so I can have it to hand all the time. So thanks for that. Also, how do you deal with assignments that are busy enough that pain management is harder than it should be? I'm coming up on two years as a nurse and I feel like I take it personally when I am too busy to adequately manage my patients pain. I'm also coming from a newly unionized hospital where the ratios are still horrendous (I do 1:10 on med surg) and I'm hoping once we can enforce our staffing grids it'll be better but idk I'm burning out and I love my job so much and I really respect your nursing philosophy? I guess. Sorry for the word vomit it's been a crazy shift.

I've been trying to think of how to answer this since I got it. It's just such a horrendous ratio. With ten patients a shift, that's like six minutes an hour for each in a fantasy world where there's no charting and everything is exactly where you need it to be. I feel like I don't have great insight into this because the most med surg patients I've had assigned is five. Ten patients to one nurse is just a raw deal for everyone. Like christ no wonder you feel like you're burning out! I'll give you what thoughts I have and hopefully other people can chime in if they have suggestions. But that's such a hard patient load.

When I've been super swamped, I've found that's when being really explicit about your thinking with the patient helps. Like if I have to dash into a room and then dash back out, I'll make sure the board is updated with the next medication time and that the patient knows when the medication is going to kick in. I'll also provide call light parameters. I have a lot of success telling people, "the med should be doing something by 5:30. If I haven't checked in with you by then, and the pain is unchanged or barely changed, hit your call light and we'll try the next step. Also hit your call light if you feel any sudden change, like now you're nauseated or you have a headache or the type of pain changes or something just feels very wrong. Is there anything you need before I step out of the room?"

I like to be explicit about when to call me because I think there's two directions call light usage can go wrong: someone calls all the time, or someone never calls. With someone who calls all the time, I find that telling them when I'll be back and that I want them to call me if I'm not takes away some of that anxiety that can causes some people to call frequently. Often those patients are afraid that if they aren't on the call light, they're gonna get ignored.

For the other type of patient, the one that doesn't call, I want to make explicit that it's GOOD AND NORMAL TO CALL YOUR NURSE WHEN YOU HAVE SYMPTOMS. We've all had that patient at the end of shift who goes, "btw the gnawing pain in my leg is now a 10/10" and you're like "what gnawing pain sir?? you've literally never mentioned it before now?? I don't have any meds for that lemme page super quick????" These patients can get into pain crises easily because they don't ask for help until something is unbearable. In addition to pain crisis bad, it takes a lot more time to deal with something unbearable than it does to deal with something uncomfortable.

On that note, are you spending your very limited time efficiently? To me, that actually means spend more time talking with patients, at least up front. Manage expectations, make sure people know what to expect. Having conversations with patients that are like, "You just had surgery, it's not gonna happen that we get you completely painless. We want to get you to a manageable pain level that allows you to do whatever it is you most want to do this shift." (For me on nights, that's usually sleeping at least a little, but sometimes the realistic goal you make together is that you will feel at some point better than you feel right now.) "You have this medication scheduled, and you have this one available every X hours when your pain is severe. Is there anything you know that helps you deal with pain?"

Also establish if patients want to be woken up for certain prn medications or if they're sleeping, to let them sleep. With some patients, I will advise them to get woken up for pain medication because I know that they're going to need consistent control to avoid a crisis. (Crises take so much time!)

When I'm crunched for time, I'm fond of bringing in an ice pack and being like "if it works, great, if it doesn't, just take it off, either way here it is." Sometimes I'll do the same with a warm blanket. If I know my patient needs to take pills, I'll bring a cup of water with me into the room. If there's a basic prn like melatonin or tylenol that I think they might want, I'll pull them in advance. If the patient doesn't want them, I return them next time I'm in the med room. (Obviously, don't do this with controlled substances. It's super easy to forget to return them, and not returning opioids is one of those whoopsies people get fired over.)

Decision making takes time. Walking to go get stuff takes time. I want to save the time it takes to assess if the patient needs those things and then walk off to fetch them by just having the things already. If your tightest resource is time, be liberal with resources you can spare. If you're stuck with a patient, do you have anyone you can delegate a prn med pass to? Do you know how to do the absolute minimum charting you need to? Do you have flushes and alcohol wipes and whatever other most common things you need? And since you can't hoard time, if you've got some to spare, ask yourself if there is anything you can do now that will save you time later. If you have five free minutes now and an incontinent patient, getting them up to the bathroom now can save you from taking the time for incontinence care and a bed change later on when they've also sundowned and decide they hate everything but most of all you.

So much of this answer I realize is investing as much time upfront as you can, which I realize is so hard when you are so busy. It sucks immensely that prepping takes much less time than not being prepared does when you don't always have time to prep. Plus when you invest that time to pain plan with patients and do small preventative interventions, I think it also provides some psychological comfort that helps with pain. You're letting them know you're invested and you care and you have a plan, even if you don't have all the time you'd like. That can mean better pain control, which can mean needing to spend less time in that room overall, meaning you can save six whole minutes at some point and maybe even, if we're feeling crazy, get a chance to indulge in that greatest of indulgences: just a real leisurely on-shift piss.