#Sorry if this is such a downer - I just needed to get it all out of my chest

[stinkybrowndogs]

Oh man the hits just keep comin

[toastsnaffler]

coming to terms with having adhd is like wow so my brain has been broken all my fucking life and always will be. and when I felt like everything was unfair + more difficult for me than everyone else thats because it is actually. and it will always be like this forever. hope that helps 👍

[ihatebnha]

Im sorry but nowadays, when I watch/read MHA, I faze out and suddenly find myself in a McDonald's driveway. I feel like MHA kinda lost its magic, like not all of it, but it's not as hype as it used to be. But in the beginning, MHA encouraged me to get fit when I saw Deku preparing to handle OFA, so I'll give them that (even though that motivation only lasted for two weeks 😭)

Now, im just really interested in the fandom instead of the anime/manga

McDonald’s driveway LMAOODJFKb… so harsh but so true, and it’s hard to say whether the loss of hype is due to the story itself or just… the regard that people have for it nowadays (and I say this because I’m not sure which ur referring to).

I definitely think the community itself has gotten a little more dull (given that we’re no longer all stuck at home)… but part of me also feels like hori probably feels the same as this… and that contributes, too.

I’m not sure if you saw it, but in some of my previous tags i talked about how he actually switched to an editor that was notorious for “ruining” mangas, so I see that being part of problem… but also one thing that really just jumps to mind as we talk abt this is how MHA went from dealing with kind of complex moral problems to… “villains are bad and we must fight them!!!!” (Alongside the general rushing of the storyline).

So idkkkk. I feel the same as u in sort of a melancholy way. I want to keep liking the show for what it is… but it’s just no longer what it used to be (like you said). Whether it’s the pandemic, the fandom itself, the story, hori, his editor… whatever…….. it doesn’t have the sparkle that it used to bc it feels like we just keep being disappointed or rushed through the important parts.

But it’s good we have our little fandom, and hopefully we continue to have it, however the show proceeds.

[fnafawoundleftbleedingau]

Ngl, I think one of my struggles with fic writing in general, is I don't really have anyone I trust enough that can give me feedback before I post said fics. I don't feel comfy at all asking someone I don't know super well to give my writing a look over, and rn my few close pals either can't or don't wanna give em a read. so yeah, I try my best to go over my own work and fiddle with it and re-adjust things as best I can, but I'm fully aware my own thought processes don't always "translate" well, or make total sense I guess? But I'm trying. ^^;

[doctor-wombat]

.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Hi, your last post about reader not knowing that it was sa, I saw that and I wanted to request something. What if reader knows that she have been through it but she mentions this as a joke, she says it and just keep going like she said something silly. How would the boys (141 + konig) react?

(I do this sometimes and I don’t like it, but it feels like some kind of copying mechanism)

I’m sorry if this was too much, do not feel that u need to write this.

Anyway, thank u so much and take care

Honestly I make out of pocket jokes about my own trauma all the time, so I feel this

tw: mentions of trauma, brief mentions of sexual assault- nothing graphic or descriptive, humor as a coping mechanism, comfort

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Whiplashed so hard his neck is broken

“You bein’ serious?”

You explain what happened but you’re a little too blasé about it, he understands humor as a coping mechanism but this is a little serious

And by ‘a little’ I mean very

“Love, you can’t just drop a bomb like that.” He tries to soften his tone but his rage at what you’ve just told him is starting to seep through

He doesn’t realize he’s being a little hypocritical, we’ve all heard his “army humor” so he really doesn’t have a lot of room to talk. But the fact that it happened to you has blinded him to that fact. It’s not that you can’t make jokes, it’s that you shouldn’t have to because it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

He doesn’t even let you apologize before he’s pulling you into his arms, hands shaking, doing his best not to imagine what kind of sick fuck would do that to you

“Simon, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” His tone is firm and he’s refusing to let you go, so instead of arguing, you opted to melt into his embrace. Hands running up and down his back and as he’s kissing the crown of your head he’s wondering how worthwhile it’d be to give the fucker a visit. Maybe teach him a lesson or two.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

Laughing with your joke at first but then it hits him like a ton of bricks

“Beg your pardon?”

You explain the joke and the context with a dismissive laugh before going back to what you were doing and he’s just frozen in place

Someone… hurt you… in one of the most awful ways imaginable, and you’re laughing it off?

He’s not sure if he should be in awe at your resilience or concerned at your choice of coping mechanism, so he takes a gentle approach

“Bonnie, you know you can talk to me, aye?”

“I know, I just… don’t want to burden you with it. I mean, it’s not like it’s your fault it happened.” He’s holding your hands in his, gently massaging the space between your thumb and your index finger,

“Aye that’s true, but it’s you. And I love you, good and bad included.” He gently held the back of your head and kissed your forehead,

“Anytime you feel like talkin’ I’m here. Copy?”

He doesn’t usually bring work jargon home but he knows it gets a laugh from you, and sure enough your little giggle proved him right

“Copy.”

John Price:

The whiplash also broke his neck

“Sorry, what?”

His heart broke when you explained yourself and whined that the explanation ruined the punchline

“Sweetheart, that’s no laughin’ matter.” His tone was gentle as he approached you, hands hesitantly coming to rest on your hips, suddenly unsure of himself

“Honey, I’m fine. It’s how I cope.”

“I know, and there’s nothin’ wrong with that. Just, maybe, talk to me about it instead, yeah?” One of his hands came up to cup your cheek and you closed your eyes and leaned into the warmth of his palm, trapping it between your cheek and your shoulder

“I don’t wanna be a downer, John.”

“Never. I’m more concerned for your well-being than bloody mood. Am I clear?” As you looked in his eyes, you saw nothing but honesty and genuine concern, so you nodded

You closed your eyes and kissed his palm before he pulled you in to a tight embrace.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He heard you say it and weakly laughs before stopping as he chews on the words a little more

“Wait, what was that?”

And when you’re passively explaining it to him in the same way you’d talk about the weather he is in shock

He’s not sure if you’re trying to put on a brave face if you’re as nonchalant as you seem. He’s inclined to believe it’s the former.

“Babe that’s no joke. That’s kind of serious.”

“Don’t sweat it, Kyle. It’s how I’ve dealt with it. I’ve got it.”

He’s unsure but at the same time if it’s really worked for you so far then there’s no harm in letting it continue right? Wrong. He’s a little uncomfortable but it’s more so because it happened to you, someone he loves so deeply and he can’t fathom the idea

“Well yeah, I get that. But maybe we can talk about it when you feel like joking about it?” He shrugs, his words cautious and carefully chosen as he makes his suggestion

“I just want you to be alright. Ok?” His arms are rubbing yours before he’s pulling you into a hug, “I’ll always be here for you, babe.”

König:

Not a single chuckle from this man as he’s chewing over the words in his head

“Schatz, what’d you just say?”

When you explained what happened with a shrug and an all too casual tone, he’s tasting iron in his mouth from how hard he’s biting his cheek

He doesn’t want you to think he’s angry at you, never in a million years, but jesus christ schatz, surely there’s no way?

It’s not that he doesn’t believe you, he just can’t believe it happened to you, you’re the light of his life, his reason for existing, you’re the morning sun and the midnight moon, he’s truly in shock

“König?” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts and in two short steps he was in front of you, sinking to his knees and hugging your middle. He’s buried his face in your shoulder as your arms wrap around his shoulders and you run your fingers through his hair.

“Liebling, please don’t make those jokes anymore, ok?” His voice is so small and fragile, you almost felt like it was a child talking instead of the 6’ something behemoth at your feet, “I can’t stand to hear that you’ve been hurt like that.”

“König it’s ok, really. Humor is how I cope.” You kiss the crown of his head and your chin against it,

“I know, liebling, I know but I’d much rather you talk to me ok? Please? For me?”

[theminecraftbee]

alright, so, one more thing i've been thinking about during all of this, and apologies, because i normally try to keep my blog fairly discourse-free in the grand scheme of things. but.

there are hermitcraft fans who act irritatingly morally superior about this fandom. i think it's out of some impulse to try to distance yourselves from any other mcyt fandom. it needs to stop.

the worst behavior during the polls was from the hermitcraft fans.

period.

there were so many instances of hermitcraft fans accusing the other side of cheating, of hermitcraft fans making attacks on the character of their guy's opponents, i have heard what i HOPE are isolated reports of racism in the grian/quackity fight (it was genuinely impossible to keep up with the blog's notes that round without both going into a death spiral thanks to the horrible behavior of scar fans during techno/scar and also without losing track instantly of where we were due to the frankly insurmountable volume of notes, so i did not see it, but unfortunately i fully believe it). i have seen people receiving awful asks - saw people being accused of 'betraying' the hermitcraft side due to voting for quackity or techno, for example.

and for a fandom that likes to act like it's better than the other guys, well. the dsmp fans were generally very well behaved in comparison. (shoutout, for example, to quackblr - i saw maybe one or two possible instances of bad behavior, but for as intense as you all were, you all were normally mostly just retaliatory towards whatever energy was thrown at you.) it wasn't supposed "outsiders coming in" that was doing this bad behavior, either.

folks, you can't blame the dsmp when the problem is inside the house. you can't blame twitter users when you're doing it here. you can't blame the reddit when you're the ones throwing the first death threats.

get off your high horses. we're all mcyt fans. we're all having the same fun. get off your high horses. you can hardly claim we're entirely all "unproblematic" when keralis accepted a sponsorship from the wizard game and xisuma periodically gets another round of getting shouted down over something he said on xisumasays. get off your high horses. you can't claim we're the accepting, good behavior fandom, unlike those other guys, when you're the ones causing the problems.

now, as always, i'm sure this is a law of large numbers thing to some extent. as technoblade, wise as he is, said: sometimes when you get a large enough group, you're going to have a few serial killers. but for the amount that hermitblr likes to act better than Those Other Minecraft Fandoms, and those Other Fandom Websites, it wasn't those guys that made me cry.

to be clear, the majority of you have been well-behaved. but there's a persistent tendency in this fandom to act strangely morally superior to other fandoms. and, y'all? you aren't.

you just aren't.

and the sooner you acknowledge that, the less likely this is to happen again, because once you admit that yeah, we can be toxic too? that's when you can start actually looking at yourself and trying not to be.

anyway, sorry again to make this post. i don't want to be a downer, hence why, outside of the official mod statements of "chill the fuck out", i didn't make this until now. (it also helps that i wanted to wait until i was no longer furious, upset, and death spiraling.) i have seen a lot of the best of this fandom over the past two weeks! i've just also, unfortunately, seen some of the worst, and feel the need to make this statement because it's just... been eating at me.

i don't want this to continue to be a trend. i think we can do better. do so.

[munsonsprincess11111]

Sleepover.

Eddie munson x reader:

Summary: Eddie's friends decide to all have a sleepover at the trailer. Eddie completely forgets and invites you over.

Eddie's on top of you head on your chest arms around your waist. You've got your legs spread for him to lay in between one hand stroking his back. The other stroking his head. "This is nice." HE mumbles closing his eyes relaxing into your touch.

Your eyes slowly begin to shut when there's loud banging on the door. Eddie jumps out of his skin sitting up. Eddie and you both look at eachother with wide eyes. "If that's the cops m jumping out the window." Eddie says standing up pulling his shirt down getting his shoes on.

"I'll get the door." You mumble walking over to the door. Peeking through the peep hole. "Babe it's only the boys." You shout laughing.

"Ah fuck." Eddie shouts in the distance running down the hallway. "Fuck I forgot they wanted to stay here tonight." HE says biting his lip looking at you. You step out the way and let Eddie open thr door. He let's the group of boys in and says hello to them all. Then Gareth sees you. "OH hey y/n why are you here..." HE askes confused.

Eddie groans "OK I'm sorry I forgot. I completely forgot you guys wanted to stay and invited y/n over for the night. And then you was knocking on the door so I don't know what you want me to do." HE says looking like a child crossing his arms over his chest.

The group of boys groan. Sudden wash of anxiety running over you. "I can just go." You say trying to fix Eddie's mess up.

All the boys says yes and nod. Except Eddie he looks at you annoyed. "NO. Nope. Your not going OK." HE says ignoring the boys.

"Eddie its fine OK." You says smiling walking to Eddie's room to get your bag. He followed after you. "I'll see ya on Monday." You say kissing his cheek. Before he can protest you've walked out the door.

The boys all whooping and cheering Gareth putting beer on the table n the boys taking one. "Common man don't be a downer." Gareth says handing Eddie a beer.

-2 hours later-

" we should all call our girlfriends." Jeff suggests. Eddie's eyes shoot up at him frowning. The boys agree. Going to the phone. First Gareth calls his girlfriend saying he loves her ans stuff. Then Jeff telling his girlfriend he can't wait for there date on Sunday. And then they get Eddie to call you.

You answer within 2 rings. "Hello" you answer.

"Hey babe it's me." HE says glancing at the boys. "What's up Eddie?" You ask sounding slightly disappointed.

"Nothing much just making sure your OK." HE answers biting his lip. "Yeah I'm OK are you?"

Eddie looks at the guys who are silently laughing. "Yeah I'm fine. Glad your OK I'm gonna come over tomorrow at 11 am to spend time with ya OK?" HE askes twisting his ring.

"Yeah that's fine see ya then babe." You answer. "Kay great I love you." HE says looking at his feet.

"I love you too." You say hanging up. The boys start laughing when he puts thr phone down at how awkward Eddie was. He rolls his eyes and sits on the couch.

-

1:34 AM. the clock starred at him. The others where asleep. And Eddie couldn't sleep. He needed you. He crept up from his spot on the floor over to the door. Silently grabbing his keys slipping his shoes on walking out the door closing it silently.

He got in the van and drove out the trailer park. He parked a block away from your house and walked around to your window which was left open a crack. Lucky for him. He slid the window up and slipped through. He took his shoes off placing them next to the window. He took off his jacket dropping it with his shoes. Then putting his keys on your desk.

He crept to your bed climbing in next to you. "Babe?" HE whispered. Nothing.

"Princess." HE says a little louder. You stir wnd then go back to sleep. "Y/n." HE says louder making you jump awake. Calming when you see who it is.

"The fuck you doing here." You ask half asleep running a hand through his curls. "Can't sleep wanna come back to the trailer with me n go sleep. I'd crash here but I don't want to leave them dicks alone." HE says kissing your cheek.

You nod. Eddie helps you up putting his jacket on you. You slip on your slippers as Eddie slips on his boots. He goes out the window first. You follow him out grabbing his hand as you stand. He wraps and arm around your shoulder walking to the van like that.

Once in the van you turn on the heater nuzzling into Eddie's jacket holing the hand that's not on the steering wheel.

"I felt really bad about you going earlier. N then you sounded pussed on the phone. N I couldn't sleep. So I come to get ya. Sorry if that's annoying." HE says starting at the empty roads

You shake your head. "I was kinda annoyed at the others reaction when I said I'd go. But I'm glad you come to get me. I don't mind you woke me up. Rather be with you then on my own." You say running a finger over his knuckles. You look over at him and see how he looks in the streetlight. Making you smile.

"I love you." You whisper to him. He stops at a stop light. There were no over cars about but he did for the first time in his life. "I love you too." HE whispers back kissing you sweetly.

You arrive at the trailer and Eddie helps you out. Opening your door for you. Then the trailer door. You enter the trailer feeling comfort at the feeling of Eddie. You slip your shoes off so does Eddie. But you keep his jacket on until your in his bed. His arms go around your waist. Yours around his neck so you can stroke his head. He's out like a light within seconds. One more kiss on his head and your out.

-

The boys notice Eddie's gone so doug walks down to his room. Only to see you both tangled in eachother fast asleep.

"Y/ns here Eddie's asleep." HE tells the others. The others nod. Gareth rights a note for Eddie when he awakens.

Can't believe you ditched us to go get your girl ya softy. Great night call us when your alive.

They pack up and leave.

-

Eddie wakes up and goes into thr living room seeing the boys have left and the note. He called Gareth asking him to call thr others for him. Then he heads back to his room. Climbing into his bed behind you kissing your neck.

You stir awake smiling feeling Eddie kiss your neck. You turn your head catching his lips on yours. "Morning." You smile.

"Morning gorgeous." HE smiles kissing you again.

"The guys already left so you can walking around naked if ya wanna." HE smirks running his fingers up your side. You giggle at Eddie.

"That make you happy?" You ask smirking. He nods like a child hair going everywhere. "Come shower with me then if your lucky. Maybe." HE needs no more convincing. He stand up pulling you up. Dropping his pj pants and boxers. Taking off your shirt dropping your shorts and panties.

He pick you up bridal style. Your laughing as he kissing you as you enter the bathroom.

"I love you."

"I love you too ya douchbag." You say kissing him

[bangtanintotheroom]

Just Like Candy (M)(Teaser)

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

But you know that it ain't real cherry, know that it ain't real cherry

🔊 candy - doja cat (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: S.Coups x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words (teaser): 583

• Summary: Following a breakup, Seungcheol is looking for a distraction for the night. You catch his eye with your red lips and the rest is history.

• Warnings/themes: mentions of a breakup, sulky Cheol 🥲, drinking, swearing, one night stand, flirting, making out, dirty talk, handjobs, fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), c*me swallowing, strength kink, manhandling, hint of begging

• Notes: Yes, yes, I know. "There goes AJ falling for another leader!" I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT! SO WHAT IF I LIKE A RELIABLE MAN HUH, HUH 🤬 *deep breaths* Anyways. Just enjoy me starting to simp for Mr. Coups and watch as I slowly become a Carat over time 😊

• Teaser Notes: Teasers are a WIP and will not fully reflect the final draft, warnings and themes are subject to change. If you want to be tagged when the final draft is released, either leave a reply or shoot me an ask! PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE PRESENT IN YOUR BIO OR YOU WILL NOT BE TAGGED.

• Taglist: @minttangerines @minisugakoobies @kiestrokes @swga-ficrecs @hyunjinsjeans @firesighgirl

Reminder that I have a permanent taglist if you're interested in all future fics I post!

“Yah, is he on his phone again?”

Wonwoo replied to Seungkwan’s question from the front with, “He sure is.”

Every other occupant groaned in exasperation, Chan peering around him to scold, “Seungcheol-hyung, focus! You’re supposed to have fun with us tonight, not pine over her!”

“Just block her already!”

Seungcheol was quick to snap at Joshua’s quip, “No, because then I’ll look bitter.”

“So?”

Seungkwan turned around in the passenger seat to look directly at him, seeming as if he was about to give the most unhelpful advice ever.

“Hyung, you want my suggestion?”

“No.”

“Too bad. Fuck her feelings, respectfully—” He was quick to throw in that word after the elder’s face began twisting in displeasure. “—she decided to end it and she’s out there living her best life while you’re moping around. Be selfish for once and focus on your well-being!”

Chan joined in, “Exactly! Are you going to let her distract you from having a good time with us tonight?”

The eldest wanted to fight back on instinct, but the more he stewed on his friends’ words, the more he realized that they had a point.

What was the use in getting in his feelings? He’d just end up being the downer of the group and waste the effort they put in to have him get dressed and come out. Even though it had been a while since he went to a party of this size, the tiniest part of him was excited. His ex was the type to avoid get togethers like this, so he often put off the guys’ invites in favor of pleasing her.

But she wasn’t around anymore…

He sighed heavily. Hopefully, he’d be distracted enough that she wouldn’t run through his mind until he got back to his bed and deleted more of their couple pictures.

“No, I’m not.”

“Last chance to back out.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but knit his brows a bit as he pondered. Was he really about to fool around with a complete stranger?

He didn’t need to see Wonwoo’s flabbergasted expression downstairs to know that this was somewhat out-of-character for him. Even when he was single, getting in bed with someone he had only known for a couple of hours was a thought he never entertained. But this was now and he was, to put it lightly, yearning for some physical contact that would keep him distracted for the night.

And quite frankly, he didn’t want to say no to you.

“Seungcheol?”

The light call of his name brought him out of his thoughts, looking down to see you gazing up with mild concern.

“You alright?”

He was quick to nod and smile reassuringly, replying, “Yes. Sorry, just…got in my head for a bit.”

Your expression eased up, tongue clicking as you gave his hands a squeeze.

“Well, we can’t have any more of that. C’mon.”

You maneuvered Seungcheol around so his back was facing the bed now.

“Quit thinking about your ex and focus.”

“Believe me, I’m trying. I might need a little more help on your end.”

With the hint of encouragement in his voice, it seemed to shift you into a more domineering mood, cherry lips twisting into an undaunted grin while you let go of his hands.

“Of course. Even if it’s for a moment—“ All of a sudden, he felt a push to his chest and found himself falling to the bed before looking up at your salacious smile. “—I’ll make you forget all about her.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[moonstruckme]

hello! I hope you are well and Christmas is treating you nicely so far! I was wondering if I could potentially request something based around reader not knowing how to swim with perhaps poly!marauders or any other character of your liking? Obviously do not feel any inclination to do so if this is unappealing! thank you!

Thanks sweetheart, hope the holiday season is treating you nicely as well!

cw: reader has a mild fear of water/drowning

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Steve’s hands rove your calves, cajoling. “C’mon, you know I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

“I don’t understand why you care so much.” 

“And I don’t understand why you would wear a swimsuit,” he laughs, “if you’re not going to swim.”

You look down at the smallest bikini you own, then raise a brow at him. “Well, it wasn’t for me.”

Steve’s grin turns smug but he doesn’t let up, wrapping his fingers around your ankle and giving a little tug. Not enough to drag you into the pool by a long shot, but enough that you brace your hands on the wet concrete by your butt. 

You give him a warning look. “Steve, quit.” 

He does, going back to soothing his palms up and down your calves. You’ve got your feet in the water, and that’s as far as you’re willing to go. You can watch Steve swim from right here.

“Look, I’m not saying you don’t look great up there. I mean, you do, you really—” he gives you a meaningful look that makes your already sun-warmed skin heat a touch further, seemingly mindless of the swarms of people around you “—really do, but I’m just thinking you’d look even better if you were in here with me, you know?” 

You tap your fingers on the edge of the pool, casting a look towards the shallow end. It’s chock-full of screaming kids and toddlers bobbing around with arm floaties, but it looks infinitely more inviting than where Steve is in front of you, barely touching the ground. 

“Can we go over there?” you ask, jutting your chin in that direction.

He turns to look at that side of the pool reproachfully. “Babe, the shallow end is like two-thirds piss. Just hop in right here. I won’t let you drown, okay?” 

You chew your lip. “That’s a low bar.” 

Steve grins, sensing victory. “I will make sure you flourish, honey, alright? Just trust me.” 

You take in a breath and hold it, nodding hesitantly. “Okay,” you say. 

Steve’s smile widens. His wet hands slide up your legs and grip you under your thighs. You think he’s going to support you as you ease in, but in the next second he’s lifted you off the concrete, spilling you into the water with him. 

You gasp in surprise at the action and the cold and skitter up him, wrapping your legs around his torso and clutching at his shoulders. 

“Steve!” you squeak, heart in your throat. The absence of any surface beneath your feet, the sheer jeopardy of it, makes your blood icy with terror. 

“You’re okay, you’re—jeez, you really are freaked, huh? Think you could retract your claws?” Steve keeps one hand on your back while the other pries at your fingers on his shoulders. After a second, you loosen your grip slightly. Just slightly. “Thanks, babe. No need to cut into me, I wasn’t going to drop you.” 

“I wasn’t expecting it!” you say, voice still pitched high. “You scared me.” 

Steve softens. His hand splays out on your back, keeping you more securely in place. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I just thought it’d be better to get it over with. But you’re okay, see? It’s all good.” 

You shiver a bit from the cold, hugging him tighter. Your boyfriend’s skin is warm despite the frigid water, his shoulders under your hands dry and freckling from the sun. And you can admit, it’s not the hugest downer in the world to be pressed so close to his shirtless abdomen. 

He senses your train of thought, that smarmy grin spreading across his face again. “Glad you could join me in here, honey.” He slides a hand up to your jaw, angling your face for a kiss. You feel a bit better.

“I don’t know what’s so great about in here,” you say. “We could’ve done this just as easily on solid ground.” 

“Mmm, but it’s so much cooler in here. Anyway, we’re teaching you to swim.” 

You raise your eyebrows, a spidery dread starting up in your gut. “We are?” 

“We are,” he confirms happily, palm moving up your spine and back down again once. “It’s an essential life skill, babe. But don’t worry, you’ve got the best teacher on this side of the Mississippi.” 

“Ah, well.” You roll your eyes. “So long as I have him.” 

“Yeah, you’re lucky,” Steve ignores your sarcasm completely, adjusting his grip so he’s got a hand on either side of your waist and holding you out slightly in front of him. Your eyes go wide, and you start to dig your nails into his shoulders again, but he goes on casually, “Okay, just kick your feet.” 

You do, tentatively, feeling silly. Your legs feel awkward underneath you, disorganized and somewhat frantic compared to the other swimmers around you with their placid movements. But Steve smiles at you, proud, and you keep going. 

“Good, not bad, babe. Just keep doing that. Feel how I’m not having to hold you up as much anymore?” 

 “Mhm.” You give him a wary look. “You still can’t let go, though.” 

“I won’t,” he promises easily. “Okay, now try to move your arms around a little.”

“How?” 

“Like, uh…” Steve looks around, nodding to a girl treading water a few feet from you. “Like her.” 

You try, moving your arms from side to side with your palms facing down. 

Steve’s smile widens. It’s contagious, and you grin too, feeling like an idiot. “There you go, you’ve got it! The whole point is to just keep pushing the water down, you know?”

“Yeah.” You’re a bit mystified, struck by the odd feeling of the water moving around you. How surprisingly easy it is to control. You look down at your legs, kicking in weighty nothingness. “I think I get what you mean.” 

“Good, good. Okay, I’m gonna let you do it by yourself for a second.” 

“What?” Your head snaps up. “Steve, please.” 

“You’ve got it,” he reassures you, and slips his hands from around your waist. 

You start kicking double-time. Your hands move faster until they’re just splashing, useless. Suddenly, you can’t remember the motions they’re supposed to be making at all. Your chin touches the water, and you lunge for Steve, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“That wasn’t bad,” he says, sounding far cheerier than you feel. Your heart pitters against your rib cage. “You did good, honey. You’re learning quick.”

“Can we take a break?” you ask, tightening your grip on him. “I think I like it here better.” 

Steve’s arm bands securely around your back and he presses his lips firmly to your forehead. “Sure,” he promises. His voice is heavy with a quiet contentedness. “Yeah, we can stay here for a while.”

[nickfowlerrr]

Hey! Such a fan of your work. Do you still take requests for pwyc Bucky? Is there any chance you could do a reader having a down day bit? Been having a hard time lately and I find so much of myself in her and Bucky soothes the soul. NO worries if not, or if you’re trying to enjoy the holidays and not be put on a downer. So grateful for your work x

pretty when you cry series masterlist

bad day

pairing: pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. female receiving smut. comfort fic. if i’m missing something you think should be tagged, pls let me know!

words: 2.3k

notes: thank you so much for sending this in. i have been feeling much the same lately so i was really glad to write this little drabble. i hope you find some comfort in it and hopefully it can help brighten up your monday 🖤 sending you love and wishing you a happy holiday season, anon! and to everyone else who reads this, too. 🥰

“Sweetheart?”

Bucky’s voice called out into the silence of the house, receiving no answer in response. All the lights were off, letting him know you hadn’t been downstairs, at least not since the sun started to set.

He knew something was wrong, he had been feeling it all day. He was worried about you, texted you repeatedly and tried to call when he got a chance, but you didn’t answer. If he could have left that meeting with Stark earlier, he would have in a heartbeat. He’d been itching to get home since he started feeling something was off with you. Steve called him out on not paying attention to much of what was being said at the meeting, but he couldn’t have cared less. He was antsy and on edge, annoyed at every question he was asked and clearly irritated any time someone spoke directly to him. The only thing on his mind was you.

“Baby,” he called out, softer as he approached the door to your shared room.

He had no idea what was wrong, but the heaviness he had felt from you all day was starting to get near paralyzing. It was like you were overwhelmed and completely numb at the same time. All he wanted to do was comfort you, make you feel better. Whatever he could, whatever you needed him to do, he would do. He couldn’t take feeling this much longer knowing it was all radiating from you. You must’ve been drowning at that point, the weight of these unknown emotions hadn’t let up all day except the few times you had probably fallen asleep.

Still not getting a response from you, Bucky quietly opened the door and walked in to find you lying on the bed still in the pajamas you were wearing when he left you this morning. You were curled up on his side of the bed, cuddling with his pillow, a delicate pout on your lips as you stared at nothing, breathing steady. Your eyes were bleary when you looked up as he came in.

“Hi,” he said softly, moving to sit next to where you laid on the bed. His hand immediately going to your back, running it up and down soothingly.

You didn’t respond right away, instead letting go of his pillow that you’d been using as a surrogate for him, and grabbing his arm, urging him to lay with you. He got the hint right away and let you pull him down before he adjusted himself so he was facing you better. Your arms wrapped around him and you buried your face in his neck as he returned your embrace.

“Hi,” you mumbled against him.

“What’s wrong, princess?”

“Noth-”

“Don’t say ‘nothing’,” he cut you off before you could finish replying.

You closed your mouth, thinking briefly before deciding not to answer.

Bucky allowed the silence as he returned to rubbing your back, taking a breath as the ache in his chest eased just the slightest.

“Bad day,” you finally responded quietly.

“That makes two of us,”

“Sorry,” you winced at the reminder that he was forced to feel what you had been feeling.

“Don’t be. All I wanted to do today was be here with you,” he assured you.

It was quiet again before he heard your small sniffling and the dampness of your cheeks on his skin as you nuzzled even further into him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, doll. I got you, you’re okay,” he cooed as he leaned down to place a kiss on top of your head.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong. I’ve been feeling this all week, I know you’ve been trying to push it off,”

“I just,” you took a breath before trailing off, not knowing how to explain properly.

“You can tell me anything,” he reminded you.

“I know, I just..”

All words left your head, any semblance of an explanation you could try and offer went flying right out of the window. Not being able to pinpoint it only made it that much worse. He was asking a sensible question. What was wrong?

What was wrong?

What is wrong? Why are you feeling like this?

Why don’t you have a single fucking idea as to why you’re feeling so…bad.

Your heartbeat picked up and so did your breathing. You were trying to find a reason, just one. But you couldn’t. You just felt like this. No real logic to it. You couldn’t give him an answer and you only made yourself feel worse knowing you were making him feel the same.

“I don’t know,” you cried, dejectedly into his neck. More tears falling freely now.

“Shhh,” he whispered into your hair, cradling you against him now. “It’s okay, baby. ‘S’okay.”

You calmed as he held you, feeling slightly better having acknowledged that you were feeling bad instead of fighting the feeling as it had been threatening to drag you down all week, trudging through each day and only finding any kind of reprieve when Bucky was near. Your breath was beginning to steady when he pulled you back from him slightly, looking in your glassy eyes before he gently wiped the remaining tears from your face and you leaned into his hand.

“Have you eaten today?” he questioned.

“No,” you answered, looking away from him, feeling embarrassed that you hadn’t really left your room at all. You had started getting ready in the morning, lazily brushed your teeth and even washed your face. You were going to get in the shower, but when you went to start it, decided to do it later. You just felt so tired still. You crawled back into bed and slept for another hour before you awoke. You felt even worse then. Bucky had left and you had no distractions from the black cloud that had been following you around lately. So you just let it storm over you. Sleeping on and off throughout the day and wallowing in self pity and despair when you were awake. Everything and nothing was wrong all at once. But now, as you were coming back to yourself, your lack of living today was clear and you felt stupid and lazy for it.

“I need to shower,” you mumbled, moving to get off of him. He held you down, keeping you in his embrace, not letting you up just yet.

“I’m gonna make you dinner, first,” he told you.

“Okay,” you allowed as you looked up at him to meet his eye, “Well, I can shower while you make it,” you suggested, thinking it was the obvious course of action.

“No,” he stated, with a shake of his head as he held your eye. You furrowed your brow in response. “We’re gonna shower after,” he told you.

“We?” you repeated softly, looking him in his eyes. The warmth and affection that swam in them was comforting as he nodded before pulling your face closer to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Then I’ll light a fire and we can watch that show you keep telling me about. How’s that sound?”

“Good,” you answered, nodding slightly. “Honestly…Anything’s good as long as you’re here,” you simpered.

“Someone’s feeling sappy,” he smirked, repeating the words you always shoot at him when he gets too sentimental or cheesy on you, earning a light eye roll and smile from you at his teasing as you laid your head back down on his chest, taking another moment to just relax in his arms.

“Actually, can we just.. I don’t know, order pizza? Then we can shower right now and just go downstairs to eat and watch the show when it gets here.”

He nodded in response.

“We can definitely do that,” he agreed, a relaxed smile on his face as he felt the heaviness slowly lifting from you.

You pulled yourself up again, this time he let you go as he sat up, grabbing his phone from his pocket to place your usual order. You wandered into the bathroom, starting the shower to let the water warm up before you began to slowly take your clothes off. You were stepping out of your sweats as Bucky came in behind you, tugging you to him. You leaned back against him as he hugged you before his hands found the hem of your tank top, slowly pulling it up and over your head. He nudged you toward the shower that was beginning to fog up already as he began to undress.

You stood under the water, the warmth helping you relax further. Your body felt so sore though you hadn’t done a thing all day. As Bucky got in with you, his arms wrapped around your waist and you sighed at the added relief he brought you. You stood there for a while, swaying in his arms slightly as the water fell on the both of you. Eventually, his arms slipped from around you and when his touch returned, he was gently washing your body, the suds of your soap slowly washing down your skin with the stream of water that was directly above you. Bucky placed soft kisses on every area of your body he washed for you, worshiping every inch of you. He knew you weren’t feeling great, but he wanted you to know how much he loved you - and how incredible you were to him. He needed you to know he would always be there for you, no matter what. On your best days and your worst. He wasn’t going anywhere.

It was like you could feel his love for you radiating off of him and it warmed you. You grabbed his hand as he dragged it back up your hip once you were done washing off. You turned to him and wrapped your own arms around his torso, your hands now traveling up and down his back as you rested your head on his chest. He didn’t force you to talk, didn’t need you to explain. He just understood. Intuitively, instinctively. He knew what you needed right now.

You needed someone to be there.

You were so used to being alone, relying on no one but yourself, but it got tiring after a while. Having no other choice but to stay strong. Things were different now and you knew that. You knew you had Bucky, and you knew you didn’t have to be so strong all the time, but old habits die hard.

When you were together like this, though, you were reminded that you could let yourself feel. It was okay to break down because he’d be right there to pick you back up.

“You okay, princess?”

“‘M’okay,” you nodded. “Bucky, I...Thank you,” you whispered as you looked up to him, one hand reaching up to touch him, your thumb stroking his cheek as your nails gently raked along his neck and into his hair before pulling him down to kiss him softly, lips brushing delicately before you kissed him a bit harder, pressing yourself closer to him.

“I love you,” you breathed against his lips.

“I love you,” he responded, leaning down to kiss you again.

You stayed like that for another minute, just holding each other.

You grimaced as your stomach suddenly grumbled, the hunger you hadn’t even noticed just an hour ago now making itself known.

“I think I might be hungry,” you admitted as Bucky chuckled.

“That’s what happens when you don’t eat all day,” he lightly admonished. “Let’s finish up in here, by the time we’re done the pizza should be here.”

“What do you mean ‘finish up’? I thought we were done?” you said, confused. You’d both washed up and rinsed off - hair and body. You had thought you were both ready to get out and dry off.

“No, I’m not done with you just yet,'' he said as his hand slipped down between your bodies, his knee nudging your legs apart carefully. You leaned further into him as his fingers found their way to your sensitive folds, rubbing you gently before he slipped two of his thick digits into your tight heat as you gasped and shuddered against him, keeping your balance by holding onto his shoulders while he cooed in your ear, whispering sweet nothings to you as he pumped his fingers expertly in and out of you, curling them perfectly, hitting your sweet spots just right as you let out breathy moans at the stimulation. His thumb began rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit as he coaxed you to your orgasm, working you through your high once the pleasure finally overtook you, the white hot warmth erupting through you as you held onto him, muscles tensing and thighs shaking as you came.

You were trying to catch your breath as he suddenly picked you up by your thighs, making you wrap them around his waist. He kissed you again, stealing your breath as he did before you pulled away, nearly gasping as you rested your forehead against his.

“How long do we have until they get here?”

“Long enough,” he breathed huskily, crashing his lips into yours once again. You moaned into his mouth, mewling as you felt his erection throbbing against you, nearly teasing your entrance with the angle he was holding you at.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he said as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“You,” you sighed. “I want you.”

You pulled his face back to yours, kissing him as gently as you could, trying to get across how grateful you were that he was there, and how much love you had for him, how much you felt for him as he held you so surely, so securely in his arms.

“Always you.”

[darylsfavoritegirl]

Can you do a Daryl fic where you fuck and then he says he’s not into labels :( and it makes u sad and comfort

I love this idea !!! lesss goo

A/N: Sorry if these are taking longer than you thought!! im putting myself all in between the breaks i manage to get from school lol. I liked this personally, not sure if i managed to put out a good "comfort" though but there you go anon!

Your eyes flickered at Daryl's scars covering his entire back alongside of his tattoos that looked very much like to having been done by an amateur. You had been wondering their story for a long time now, yet never had the courage to question him vulgarly.

You moved your legs restlessly under the thin sheets, feeling his seeds sticking to your thighs and dripping onto the bed.

He was never at ease with such things. From the very beginning of your "relationship" that is, just warming eachother's bed on these aggravating days of the apocalpyse, where former human beings becoming foes to the geniune humanity. Hence, you always had to wait for him to leave first. There'd be nights so lewd, so scarlet that he'd feel adequate enough to let his guard down now and then. He'd fall next to you on the bed. He'd try to maintain his heaving chest as he'd cover up his downer body with sheets and would just lie down, your bodies so close to eachother, so warm that you'd feel sheltered against his bare skin. And then, he'd bend down to grab his denim jeans and take out the pack of cigarattes you'd looted from a walker's jackets earlier.

At times, there'd be enough to last you a week but at other times there'd be so little amount that you would share one. He would pass a cigaratte to you that he had taken a long drag of. You'd draw the cigaratte to your lips, savoring the tip of the cigaratte he'd moistened with his lips.

But on this specific night, both of you were high on joints. These thoughts entangled your mind as your attention shifted on the flexing muscles on his back while he put on a t-shirt.

You spoke your mind, without giving it a second thought nor being aware of his upcoming run with Glenn and Rick tomorrow early in the morning.

"Why don't you sleep here?" You uttered low, tracing your knuckles across the downy sheet incase he'd turn to face you, you couldn't dare.

"Why, are ya need in company?" He grunted in a headlessness manner as if to drop a joke. You despised how he practically didn't pay any attention to it.

You felt blood rushing to your face. The humid already made it unendurable to stay under the sheet and now this. You took deep, instable breaths.

"No." Your voice was unexpectedly trembling slightly. You shook your head as you scoffed. Now, he was facing you.

"It's just..." You were already in remorse, wishing you hadn't even started this conversation in the first place. You bit the inside of your cheek as you cracked your knuckles out of apprehension.

You felt his piercing gaze sticking upon your forehead, yet you rejected to meet with his gaze until you found something to say that didn't make you look, perhaps, desperate.

"It just gets lonely in this side of the prison." You uttered, finally lifting your head to see him buckling his jeans. You had expressed this countless times in conversations with a different context. Rick had decided to put you in a cellblock away from the others when you first joined them and he didn't change his decision ever since.

"Gon' ask me ta snuggle, too?" He quipped, a subtle sly smirk played on the corner of his lips. He tapped on his pockets as he scanned the small cell for his belongings that he might've dropped.

A sense of indignity overwhelmed you, leaving you feeling overstimulated. You couldn't grumble. He wasn't a boyfriend that owed you courtesy after screwing your brains out. He wasn't someone like that after all. Nonetheless, you loathed at the thought of a huge difference between men and women. How insensitive they could be, how insensitive he could be.

You were very well aware of your relationship, you'd both made it clear to not turn this into anything it wasn't. However, you couldn't resist the longing yearning in your heart.

"Jerk." You simply said as you turned your back to him. You placed your hands under the pillow, resting your head on it. All those thoughts, yet "jerk" was the only thing you made it through your lips. You locked your eyes on the shabby wall, slowly breathing as all you were hearing was his movements behind you. He was so dazed that he couldn't comprehend you nor your course of actions.

"Got'a get sum' shit done in the mornin'." He spoke to himself as he was wearing his leather boots.

"Ya know, with Glenn n' Rick." He added followed by his grunts as he leaned forward to tie his bootlaces.

"The sun shines on this side of the prison, too. You know?" You uttered quietly. Your tone must've caugh his attention as he stopped tying his laces and leaned back on the chair bit by bit. He sighed as he rested his hands on his knees.

"What the hell 's dis all 'bout?" He spoke low with an irritated tone. He scowled at not getting an answer from you.

You wrapped your hands around you, staring at him with softly quaking brows. He stood there with a clenched jaw, eyeing you with squinted eyes.

"Now ya dun' talk?" He spat, chewing his bottom lip as he grabbed his jacket on the bedside table.

"Ya damn well kno' how ta kill a good night." He scoffed derisively, hearing a exasperated sigh from you.

He turned his head to you, giving you a spine-chilling glare.

"Don't ya?" His voice grew taller as you observed the vein throbbing on his neck.

"Keep it down." You exclaimed, shifting your position on the bed in a rush. The bed sank under the weight of your knees as you incompetently tried to cover yourself with the sheets.

His eyes flicked through your bare body for a brief moment as he forced himself to look you in the eyes. You felt subjected to his deviant gaze, a sense of shame flooding your every cell.

"Nah." He firmly uttered.

"Rick threw ya in dis cellblock for a reason." His tone above a whisper.

" 'Cuz ya stir up sum' drama."

"All the damn time."

"Dun' miss a chance, like clockwork."

He locked his eyes on yours. Dark shadows roaming his face. Your face got hot as you had to wait to process his words, what they could've meant.

"Those joints have caused you a mental block." You hissed, not understanding even a bit why he would've say something like that.

"Fuck off." You shrugged your shoulders as you threw your body on the bed, leering at the ceiling.

"It ain't tha'." He uttered, you could sense him leaning against the wall.

"Then what? All this because I asked you to sleep with me?" Your hands met over your chest, crossed. You could hear his shallow breaths, contemplating the best thing to say. You knew he'd fail. A moment passed as neither of you spoke. He took a deep breath

" 'S cuz ya wanna go for childish fantasies." He grunted.

"Like 's sum' kinda game." He spoke, one could sense the palpable thickness of weariness in his voice. It was like he had questioned it a thousand time before you even brought it up. His heavy words lingered in the air, unraveling all the things he never even told you. You could sense it.

"It isn't." You abruptly begged. You needed him to know that you understood his way of seeings things, his way of seeing you. You knew you shouldn't corner him. You didn't.

"Forget it." He huffed with exhaustion as he left the cell.

"Night." You mumbled, knowing he didn't even hear you. You didn't even bother to get up and grab your clothes lying on the floor as you were nothing but flabbergasted. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling, hearing the cicadas singing outside of the prison.

A tear rolled down to your temple and your hand shifted to the side of your face reflexively. You sniffed your nose and shook your head in apace. You got up slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed fully naked. You sticked your eyes to the wall infront of you, fearsome of even uttering a word to yourself in this godforsaken cellblock.

You reached your hand to the panties he threw to the floor as all you could hear was muffled conversations from people on watch. You exhaled, the futile argument which broke out of nonsense didn't support your brain to not grow more lethargic thanks to the joints.

The world around you started to spin, leaving you out of kilter as you had to screw your eyes shut. You wore your bra and as you were done with clasping it, you drank what felt like a gallon of water.

You topped it with a dirty t-shirt and left your body uncovered to the humid of the south on your bed.

What did he think? That you were gonna be just fine with just fucking. How long before you started to feel things, that you wanted more.

You blamed yourself, too soon you thought. Maybe it wasn't. There was no way to know.

You woke up to the sun breaking through your eyelids. You fell asleep to overthinking hence the penetrating headache. You swallowed dryily as you tossed your body to the water bottle next to you and gulped it down agressively to a point where it dripped down your neck to the floor.

You spent your day within the fences of the prison casually, helping people run errands and talking about the run three of the solid men in your group went.

You were in the hall where you kept your food in, cleaning your pistol and weapons so that they're more handy. You furrowed due to your focus on the weapons when you heard a few sighs out of relief drawing near to the hall.

You lifted your head, awating to see who it was with your growing curiousity. Your face loosened at the sight of Daryl and lowered it to your weapons once again, exhaling subtly.

He put his crossbow and poncho on the table, fixating his eyes at you. You wrinkled your forehead, trying to ignore his existence but you were only growing to be distracted even more, with him standing there and observing you.

You suddenly lifted your gaze, exhaling exasperatedly with your hands sagging between your knees. Dirty rags and utensils accumulating a thick layer of dirt on your hands.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a second, sighing dramatically.

"...What?" You huffed, wishing nothing but to be left alone.

" 'M sorry." He muttered under his breath, making it impossible to be heard.

"You're what?" You let out a frustrated growl with his fancy words.

" 'Bout last night." He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, concealing every bit of an emotion peeking on the way.

"What about it?" You forced a downward smirk, trying to seem cool.

"C'mon." He simply said, looking rather bewildered with you. He looked as if he didn't know where to put his hands or what to do with his body.

"Your fine." You huffed, focusing on the weapons.

"I's bein' a dick 's all." He begged, taking a step towards you.

"Yeah you were." You scoffed tauntingly, not looking at his direction. You observed his boots and exhausted steps drawing towards you as you maintained your focus on the dirty rag in your hand.

"Ya kno' I'ma set things right." He was so near you that you had to raise your head to look at him. You were sitting on the frontstep of smaller cellar in the hall, he looked down at you. Your eyes filled with a flamey look as he stayed put.

"Per usual." You forced a sham smile, wishing he'd sense the sarcasm in your tone.

Seeing that he wasn't getting out of the way, you instantly got up as you rolled your eyes. You leered at him.

"Will you please get out of my way?" You hissed, maintaining a stern eye contact like a rock.

He remained silent without blinking.

"Dun' do dis." He mumbled.

You felt heat rising to your head, slowly gritting your teeth.

"So now it's my fault?" You barked between your heaving chest. You digged your nails into your palm, your face getting redder each second.

He remained silent once again as he placed his burly left hand to your waist, burying his forehead on your shoulder. As you were at the brink of pushing his body, hands softly grabbing him by the shoulders.

"A herd nearly took us out today." He breathed against your skin.

Your hand fell loose down his body as your eyes widened and you let out a soft sigh. His hair tickled under your chin as you felt him breathing shallowly against your skin. Your eyes fixated on the entrance gate as you didn't know what to say or do.

You felt your eyes twitching along with your bottom lip as his hot breaths send shivers down your spine, your body flooding with goosebumps.

"Almost got Rick." He added after a few second that felt like a decade.

"I'm sorry. I- I-" You made it out through a shaky voice as he lifted his head, his hand still gripping your waist.

"Ain't yer fault." He slowly ambled toward the table where he left his crossbow on.

"Jus' made me get mah head al' together." He spoke as if there was no one in the hall. He slunged his crossbow on his body and rubbed his face as he let out a frustrated sigh.

"There ain't no reason ta be a damn douchebag." He added, eyeballing you as he placed his hands on his hips.

You were left with thousands of feelings, thoughts lining in your head leaving you stay put like a statue with no form of life whatsoever. Your brows were raised, lip bottom still trembling yet you managed a hold on it. He threw his poncho on his shoulder as he got close to the hall gate.

"Come to my cell tonight." You insisted with soulful, intense eyes right before he left.

You saw him nodding his head discreetly as he chewed on his bottom lip.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Anything You Need (Supernatural One-Shot)

Dean Winchester x Sam Winchester x GN!Reader (no Wincest) / requests are open

Summary: The boys discover you've been having some... unpleasant thoughts.

Fic type: emotional hurt/comfort

Potential Triggers: mentions of suicidal thoughts and regret over not having perished to the MOTW

SPN: @wereallbrokenangels (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Not that many things made you cry these days. You'd seen some shit, that's for sure. Mothers pinned to the ceiling in flames, vampires being beheaded, babies crying out for family members that wouldn't come home- and spirits that cried out for company and whose sadness waded through towns like thick, boggy, slimy water.

None of that made you cry.

Almost having the sweet release of death and having it ripped from you by your partners in (quite literal) crime, however? That. That made you cry.

The boys, they chalked it up to you having a near-death experience and copping a few new badass scars in the process. They thought it was shock at first. And it probably was. At first.

But the hours ticked by and you were ushered back into the safety of the Impala and, well, the shock wore off. You'd almost died. You would have been grateful for it, to be quite honest, but no. They took that away.

"Come on, sweetheart," Dean said, leaning over the back of the front seat to look at you, curled up and watching the window with a fairly dead-inside expression on your face. "You can't still be upset. We almost die every damn week- so tell us what's up, huh?"

Your eyes shifted from the window to the door handle. If you pulled it you'd fall out onto the road and get flattened like a pancake by that semi crawling up the Impala's ass.

"I'm fine," you replied thickly, not making eye contact.

"All due respect but that's a load of crap," Dean said, scoffing to himself. You could see Sam watching you in the rearview mirror as he drove along the highway. He knew something serious was up. It was only a matter of time before he pulled over and sat you down for a big long chat about your feelings.

"All due respect but I don't care," you replied back before the words had registered in your head. You regretted them as soon as they left your mouth and the clenching of his jaw and flash of hurt in his eyes as he looked to his brother for help just lodged that heavy stone of guilt further into your gut.

"Sorry. I'm- I've not been myself lately," you sighed, not wanting to get into this but not feeling as though you had much of a choice now. "You-you ever just... wanna die? Like, not actually die, but you just feel like it sometimes?"

Dean was quiet, looking at your knee as he processed the words. Sam's eyes flicked to yours in the mirror again.

"Yeah, I've felt that before," Sam said after a beat, avoiding his brother's piercing stare. "I get why you didn't, but you could have told us."

You dropped your head onto the car door, huffing out a grunt because to be honest- that was all you could muster right now.

"Fuck, I didn't know I was living with the Downers' Club," Dean said, scratching at the back of his head. He didn't mean anything by it, of course. Humour was his coping mechanism. He was quiet for another moment. "Shit, I- you know I'm not good with the whole words thing. Hang on-"

Then Dean set down his father's notebook and clambered over the back of the seat, landing unceremoniously next to you with a grunt, mumbling something about mud on the leather.

"Wh-Dean-" you said, moving to make room for him. He just shushed you, set his feet down in the footwell and turned you around so your head was in his lap. You looked up at him, melting into his touch. He put one hand under your head, bracing you and making sure you didn't get a neck-ache, and with the other, caressed your hair, massaging at the scalp.

"No good with words but I'll be damned if I don't know how to play with someone's hair. Sammy used to love it when he was a kid. Used to get these nightmares 'n nothin' would calm him except me touchin' his head. Little weirdo. Got damn good at it, though."

You snorted, but you couldn't deny the magic he was weaving with your nerves, untangling them and braiding them back together. You felt your muscles slowly start to un-tense, and your eyes drift closed with pleasure.

"We're always here for you, darlin'," Sammy said, reaching a hand back and over the seat to brush your cheek comfortingly. It looked like an awkward angle, and it was gone a moment later, back on the wheel.

"Absolutely," Dean said reverently, looking down at you with so much love in his eyes that you could feel it warming you up from the inside even with your own eyes closed. "Anything you need."

[pyrrhiccomedy]

I'm sorry that you're going through this. It sounds terrible.

How does a machine make your bones feel like jam? What do you mean, "like jam"? What helps while you're in the machine?

You lamented the lack of a "no downers" Tumblr option before. Is there any kind of fun internet thing your followers could curate for you?

thank you for actually asking me about the Big Machine

so a modern radiation therapy machine looks like this:

It is actually kind of hard to communicate the scale of this thing. It's the size of most people's living rooms, and the whole thing rotates around you. You feel like you're trying to dock with the international space station.

Actually being in the machine doesn't feel like anything. You lay down, they take your boob out of your hospital gown and align the lasers to these little tattoos they've put on your chest and sides, they leave the room, Vivaldi plays for about 5 minutes while things beep and buzz and the space station revolves a few times, and then you're free to get dressed and go home.

Then - in my experience, as someone who is, apparently, "a real outlier" in terms of how sensitive I am to radiation - about 30 minutes later, on the subway ride home, you start to feel extremely bad. Shaky, weak, exhausted, stabbing pains all over the boob, and just an overall feeling of, like...internal griminess. Like there's grit gumming up everything on your insides. You feel wobbly, like your bones have turned to jelly. It feels a little like food poisoning, but without the nausea, if you've ever had that experience. Just that jittery, feverish, whole-body feeling of something being very wrong.

That feeling persists for 4-5 hours, then starts to taper down; but it never tapers down completely, so every day (and you go in for radiation every day, except for weekends) it builds up a little bit more. So on Monday, you feel like shit for a couple of hours, but you shake it off by dinner time; but by Friday, you're dragging yourself through every step of the process and then you get home and pass out for 14 hours.

It's weird, too, because it's not like there's anything that the doctors can do to make it better. Like, they can't give you a different treatment, or give you less radiation. There's a set amount of radiation you need to receive over a set amount of time to be sure that they've killed all the cancer, and the alternative to radiation is cancer, so you're getting radiation. The radiologist was sympathetic to how hard I've been taking it, but all she could really do is remind me that it's temporary. All of the effects of the radiation will be out of my system a week or two after the treatment ends, so like. Knuckle down, camper, it is what it is.

Y'all are sweet to ask if there's anything you can do, but honestly, not really. I vent a bit about this stuff on Tumblr because I don't want my friends and family to have to hear about how tough this is. Sending the occasional nice message or little question is appreciated! It gives me something to think about that isn't cancer.

[hotchsreader]

You’re my Last Call

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: You and Hotch had broken up over a month ago. Once he broke up with you, he disappeared, absolutely no contact with you anymore. You didn’t know why, there were no signs he was unhappy until he just broke off everything. Up until a freak accident happens, you thought you had lost the love of your life. What if that was never the case, and he just thought you’d be better off without his sadness?

trigger warning: car accident

read on ao3 here

Now there's blood on the windshield

And there's credit cards on the floor

And I'm crawling out the window of my passenger side door

Your picture's on the dashboard and that's the only thing I saw

You were always first to catch me when I fall

Yeah, I'm sorry you were my last call

- Lyrics from the song 3/13 by Wyatt Flores

Hotch was trying to remind himself of the good days when things felt less heavy and he could have a clear head. These days? Everything felt so heavy that he didn’t know if it was possible not to be stressed out. He had broken up with you weeks ago. Maybe it has been a month already, he was unsure at this point. He knew that his presence was a downer to everyone around him, and you had been too much of a light in the world to let him dull you. He loved you so much, but he knew that letting you go would be the best option for you to succeed.

Everything felt like it was going so slowly. He had left the office about an hour ago and was headed toward the victim's house to do one last walk-through to see if there was anything that the local police had missed. He knew exactly where he was going as he and the team had been there before, so he did not even tell anyone he was going there or put the location in his GPS. He had been paying attention, he wasn't too tired, he had slept pretty well the night before, and nothing but you were on his mind. He looked down at his dashboard, to see the photo of you he kept there. Even though he left, he kept you with him. He always wanted to keep you with him, other than Jack, you were his biggest source of happiness. He had looked down for a split second, but apparently, that was enough time for a far to cross into Hotch’s lane and slammed him into the wall lining the highway.

-

After the car crashed, Hotch couldn’t remember anything until he felt himself on the concrete ground and saw random faces flashing back and forth over the top of him.

“Sir. Is there anyone we can call for you?” They asked hoping to get an answer from the man lying in front of them. They knew there was a strong chance there was a concussion.

Hotch could hardly muster up many words, all he said was your name. Your name and said check the phone.

-

You were at work. Everyone else had started going home, and the law office was closed for the day. There wasn’t any noise as you sat typing your last report on your laptop, it seemed peaceful almost. That was until, your phone started ringing incredibly loud, piercing through the silence.

“Maam. This is Officer Finch. I have a man here by the name of Aaron Hotchner, he was in a car accident. He gave us you to call.”

“Where is he? He is a Federal Agent.”

Before the officer even finished giving you the details of where Aaron was, you had already grabbed all of your things and ran out of the office. By the time you hung up with him, you were only ten minutes away.

Nothing would stop you from getting to him. Nothing that happened between the two of you would make you not rush to his side. He was, and would always be, your person.

When you got there, the first thing you noticed were the lights and the sirens. It brought back so many memories from when Hotch was hurt by Foyet. your heart was pounding in your chest and you just needed to find him to see that he was okay. an officer waved you over, and you saw him lying on the ground. There was a cut across his forehead, and his eyes were grimacing like he was in pain. It was killing you, even though you hadn’t even fully gotten up to him to see him in that kind of condition. He looked almost pitiful. you weren’t sure if you wanted to talk to him because of how badly he had hurt you so you stood and talked to the paramedics who said that it was most likely that he had a concussion, but that he was going to be fine he was very lucky. The person had crossed his lane of traffic and when they did, it caused his car to swerve headfirst into the highway wall.

You heard a soft voice call your name. It was very quiet, almost like it was reserved. They didn’t want to be calling your name. They didn’t want you to know that they needed you at this moment. you didn’t know what to do because doing this was wrong to be an emergency contact on a person who had tried so hard to remove you from their life. One day everything was okay, holding hands laughing together, knowing each other’s favorite orders at the coffee shop, to not even a phone call explaining why everything ended with a snap of a finger.

“Yeah, Aaron I’m here,” you said softly in his ear, as you finally walked over to him, kneeling next to him and running your hands through his hair. That was always a small comfort for him when he really needed somebody he loved you running your fingers through his hair.

“ I am so sorry but you were the only person I wanted to be here, I know I am probably the last person you want to hear from right now.” His voice was still very soft, almost like it hurt to speak and he wanted to tell him to stop talking to focus on getting to the hospital, but you also wanted to hear what he had to say. Selfish as it was, you wanted to know why. Why did he end everything? Why did he act like he didn’t exist after two years of a beautiful relationship, why did he call you now he had his whole team that would break down walls to get to him if they knew something was wrong? Why did he call you a person who genuinely couldn’t do anything but be there for him?

“We will talk when you’re able to form a coherent sentence, Aaron, I'm here now and I’m definitely not leaving until I know you’re okay.” You rubbed his face with your hand, and he pressed his face into your palm.

you sat there as they loaded him into the ambulance and asked if you were allowed to ride along. They said yes, considering it was not life-threatening. You could drop your car at a gas station and they would come by and pick you up to take you with him. you did not want to be where you couldn’t see him, but you trusted the paramedics to take care of him for the five minutes he would be out of your line of sight. once you got into your car, you texted the team. You still had all of their phone numbers in case of emergency to let them know what was going on and your phone started ringing off the hook.

“What is going on?” JJ was on the other side of the phone. her voice made you calm down a little bit. The two of you had become very close friends during your relationship with Aaron and even after he had broken up with you JJ always kept in contact.

“They said that a car came into his lane and knocked him into the highway wall. He was conscious and able to talk, and I went with him to the hospital. I have to drop my car off at a gas station so it wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the highway.” You responded, your voice becoming wobbly during your explanation.

She gulped pretty heavily, you knew this was hard for her to hear. as well. “Do you want me to come up? I’m more than willing to come and just be a helping hand for you. I could be the communication between the team to let them know how he’s doing so you don’t have to constantly be on your phone and keep everyone updated. I can do it for you.” She knew how hard this was for you, and that small gesture would be such a relief, and would take so much off your plate that you didn’t even know how to deal with it.

“JJ you mean the world to me. Could you also contact Jessica and let her know what’s going on? I really don’t wanna have to call her even though I love her. This is just so much and I need to check on him and be with him.”

“Absolutely. I’ll see you soon. I love you.” She said you could feel how genuine she was in the last few words. Meeting Aaron was one of the best things that ever happened to you, but meeting her was a close second. You reciprocated and hung up the phone, got to the gas station, got into the ambulance, and off to the hospital you went. You held on to Hotch’s hand the entire time.

-

The next three hours consisted of people running in and out of the hospital room, checking on Hotch, readjusting him, checking his vitals, and it felt like almost complete chaos. The minute JJ got there you could almost cry out of relief. You needed someone else there, to make this seem like less of a fever-induced dream. To bring you back to reality, almost like a shared experience instead of being alone in a hospital room with the love of your life being poked and prodded by hospital staff.

“Hi sweetie,” JJ says as she walks into the room, tears in her eyes as she looks over at Hotch. You know the two of them are close, he always has talked highly of her.

“Hi.” This was the first time you have heard your own voice in hours and it sounded almost foreign to you. It sounded defeated and hurt.

“Why are you here JJ?” This caused you to jump. Hotch had not spoken the entire three hours until JJ walked into the room. Did he just not want to speak to you? If this was the case, why did he ask everyone to call you? You turned your head over to him, a look of hurt running over your face. He noticed immediately and turned his head away from you to look at JJ.

“You know what, I’m going to go call the team, I’ll be back in a minute. You better prepare yourself for Garcia to run in here with balloons in snacks in a few hours Hotch.” She tried to make the atmosphere less tense before she left, but the hurt and anger in you could physically feel it.

You stood up, walked over to Hotch, and put your hand under his chin, and made him look at you. He stared at you for a minute, tears gathering in his eyes as he did and he tried to open his mouth to speak but you didn’t let him get that far.

“Absolutely not, you do not get to speak right now Aaron Hotchner. You do not get to be the first one to speak after what you have put me through in the last few hours. I get to speak first.”

He nodded at you, tears slipping from his eyes.

“You LEFT me with no explanation. You are the love of my life. I would lay down everything I am and will be to make sure you and Jack are safe and happy. I did nothing wrong to deserve to be deserted. I did nothing, Aaron. I love you so much, I will love you until the day I die. Why would you have them call me? Why would you do what you did?” At this point, you were sobbing, and the last few words that came out of your mouth were gargled.

Hotch raised his hand and wiped the tears from your cheek, you wanted to turn away but your brain and arm betrayed you and you raised your hand up to hold his while it was on your face.

“Honey, it had nothing to do with you. You are the most beautiful, loving, caring person in this world.”

“But then why? What was wrong? What happened to us?”

“It was me. I was bringing you down. I was making everything worse. I didn't want to ruin your life with my hurt.” The last few words were barely a whisper.

You looked up, for the first time since this conversation started, and looked at the man in front of you. He was crying, tears falling down the side of his face onto the pillow. He was gripping your hard really hard, the ring on your fingers digging into your skin. He looked pitiful. He was heartbroken, not just because of what currently happened but because of everything going on in his head. You had wished he would’ve told you this a lot sooner. So much hurt could have been prevented if he had just been honest with you. But you knew this man, you knew he would hide things so deeply inside himself if it meant no one else had to get hurt. You knew he would hide things if it meant you would be protected from the harsh realities.

“Aaron. You are and will always be my world. If something is bothering you, I would like to talk about it. I would like to be able to be there for you if you would let me be. Please, just talk to me. Let me be there for you.” You put your hand on his cheek and he leaned into your palm. His face was flush from the accident and from the tears. He felt, defeated.

“I don’t want anyone to have to deal with me. Especially not someone who has so much to offer this world. I am just a mess of a man. You were the last person I wanted to call because I do not want you to have to clean up after me.”

“If loving you means I have to be there for everything, every sad day, every hard day, every difficult day, I will be.” You said, running your hands through his hair, his favorite.

“I don’t want you to have to do that.”

“Too late, I am already too committed.”

“You know, I was looking at my photo of you on my dashboard before it happened.” He turned his head closer to you.

“You have a photo of me in your work car?” You truly didn’t know this.

“Have the moment we started dating. It's a photo of you smiling at work when I came to visit for the first time. You were so excited to show me around to everyone. Your boyfriend is a Unit Chief in the FBI. You were so smiley the entire time, I wanted to remember that happiness on hard days. So in my work car, it sits, it's comforting.”

“Well, we can take more photos.” You sat on the edge of the bed, he sat up and you leaned into him. You were not going anywhere.

“I love you, you know that. I’m sorry for leaving, I just thought I was hurting you more than I was helping. I thought if you knew how bad I was feeling you would feel responsible or that I would hurt you.”

“I love you more than you know.”

-

After the talk, and JJ called the team to let them know the extent of everything going on, you decided to walk with her to get some coffee. Penelope had shown up five minutes after JJ ended the call with tons of goodies for Hotch, and you let her and Derek sit in there with him while you took a break. Hopefully, he would be okay, Derek could handle Penelope and Hotch needed a friend.

The two of you walked along side each other in silence until you got to the elevator. Once you got to the elevator JJ finally spoke up.

“Want to tell me what happened?” She looked at you sideways as she finished the question.

“Actually, yeah. What he said made me a bit worried and I need some more insight into what’s been going on.”

“I’m all ears.”

“He broke up with me because he’s having a hard time mentally. Has he been weird or more restricted at work at all?” You asked the question as you got into the elevator.

“A bit. I thought maybe it was due to the breakup but honestly it’s been going on a few months. I try not to pry because while he is my boss and my friend, i don’t want him to think i don’t trust him.”

“I understand that completely. I knew something was up, but I didn’t think he’d leave me just because he didn’t want to talk about it. I think we’re on the same page now, but i’m not letting this go. I love him too much.”

“He loves you too, trust me. Your photo is in his car, on his phone, in his office. You and Jack are his world. I honestly think he’s just scared.” As you got out of the elevator together she turned and hugged you. knowing you haven’t had one since this all happened. You loved your best friend, and she always knew what you needed.

-

Hotch was in the hospital for a day. They wanted to keep him overnight just for observation, but it turned out everything was okay. He had a concussion and a few cuts on his head but he was going to be fine. you were by his bedside the entire time you slept there you only left to go to the bathroom or if somebody else came and made you go get a cup of coffee. Usually it was JJ or Derek that convinced you to get up, despite Hotch telling you countless times it was okay to go home. You truly just were so happy to have him back you didn’t want to leave him again.

You both had walked to your car so you could drive him home. Jessica was keeping Jack for one more night that way Hotch could settle down at home and make sure that he was okay and you were going to stay with him tonight, because there was no way you were going to let him be alone.

“You know we have to talk about everything, right?” you said the minute you both got into the car.

“Yeah honey, I know.” He reached over and grabbed your hand and squeezed it hard.

“Why did you do this? I know you’re hurting. I would do anything to make you happy and feel loved and appreciated, that’s my goal when i’m with you. I’d do anything for you.”

“That’s the point, I just don’t want you to have to take care of me. I want to be there for you.” He started looking out of the window, like that was going to make his hurt get up and fly away.

“ Now you know a relationship is 50/50, and sometimes on bad days it’s 20/80. We give what we can, my love, and if you’re having a bad day I am more than willing to pick up the slack.” It was your turn to squeeze his hand, to bring him back to reality and remember that you were here, and that you were not going anywhere.

“I am embarrassed.” You looked over at him to see him, start to cry, genuine tears falling from his eyes, the look of defeat and hurt and embarrassment falling over his face. it was the saddest you had ever seen someone look and it absolutely shattered your heart to see him like that.

“Absolutely not,” You pulled over and stopped the car, “you have NO reason to be embarrassed about having a hard time Aaron Hotchner. You have been through more in the past few years than I could ever imagine. I don’t think I would be up walking around if I had gone through what you had been through. I would not be as good of a man as good of a dad as good of a person if I had been through what you had to go through. you give it your all every single day, whether it be as a father or as the leader of a team that saves peoples lives and every single day. you deserve somebody that not only wants to be with you at your best but somebody that will be there for you at your worst and I will be there for you. Always.” You took his face in your hands and turned him to look at you. He was still crying so you wiped his tears with your thumbs, and looked him in the eyes. You leaned in and gave him a big kiss. A kiss to cement everything you just said. So he knew, you were completely serious.

“Okay. I am sorry for what I've done, but for you, I am willing to try. I am willing to accept my downfalls, and lean on you when I need you. And you will never be my last call again, you will always be my first.”

“I better be.”

That got a smile out of him, and a small chuckle. You kissed him again and started the car back up, put it in drive, and took you both home.

[prime-adeptus]

NOTHING IS LOST (YOU GIVE ME STRENGTH) – FUSHIGURO MEGUMI & READER

As minimal as this may seem, you wonder if he knows how much it means to you that he came. Your days have been lonely with you feeling increasingly out of touch with everything, but everything feels fine with Megumi by your side. Or, the one where you find your way back home.

TAGS.⠀gender-neutral reader; ambiguous relationship; childhood friends; aged-up au/canon divergence; brief smoking; angst & hurt/comfort; mental health issues, talks of death/suicide ideation, implied past suicide attempts; mild gore; near-death experiences; drifting apart and coming back together. hopeful/happy ending. SFW. 3,9k words

A/N.⠀my first work after so long and it's just a ventfic LOL sorry i have been looping phoebe bridgers and lorde for ages.

CROSS-POSTED ON AO3

For as long as you can remember, you’ve always felt things fervently.

One moment you’d feel euphoric, like you’re walking on air and nothing can get you down, but then everything crumbles and you’re left as nothing but an empty husk. It’s ironic how emptiness can feel so heavy, a constant weight on your shoulders, constant tugs at your heartstrings. 

Despite all the things you hate about yourself, there’s still one part of you that you’ll always remember with pride: there is no limit to the unconditional love you can give to people. It’s taken some time for you to decide you want to live and love as much as you can. 

But for some reasons you couldn’t fathom, these days, you feel as though your love is forced. Unnatural. Ingenuine. Like it’s just something you’ve gotten used to doing passively. Like you no longer believe, like you are living a lie. 

In a way, maybe you are. The longer you are surrounded by your fellow Jujutsu sorcerers, the more aware you become of how rotten this world can get. Plagued with death, unhappiness and turmoil on every corner, and with humans repeating the same mistakes, you’ve begun to believe that this is all hopeless. You’re well aware that it’s quite a pessimistic view to hold, but in the world that you are in, you find that it keeps you grounded. A realist. 

Or, as your beloved teacher Gojo Satoru would call you, a downer.

The sound of his voice referring to you as such makes you click your tongue in irritation. There’s not much you know about him, but the bitter part of you believes that  he  of all people should at least understand how you feel. You hold your position as a jujutsu sorcerer in high regard and with honour, but as time passes by, you’ve started to contemplate if it’s even worth it at all.

You wonder if people know that you weren’t always this way — as a child, you were bright-eyed and innocent, full of love for people and the world. Growing and going through life shattered it all, making you a husk of what you once were, and even now, you still don’t know who you’re supposed to be.

You lie and you cheat, tricking people into believing that you’re independent and fine on your own, but you are lonelier than words can describe.

And just what do you live for? You’ve survived time and time again by sheer instinct and reflex, but you still don’t know what your purpose is. You fight and you risk your life to keep other people safe at the cost of your wellbeing. Every day is a task to complete for the greater good, but what’s in store for you? You’ve grown distant from your parents — on your end, anyway; it’s difficult to read people — and your once close friends rarely contact you anymore. All you have are your peers, but you still feel so out of place among them. 

The cigarette burns between your fingers as you stare off into space by the edge of the river. At the mere age of nineteen, you feel as though you’ve lived several lives, all of which have harrowed you to no end. Nicotine flows in your system as you take yet another drag, wondering if this is what your youth was meant to be. Years of saving the city in favour of feeling like you’re wanted, needed should’ve made you feel happy. Yet here you are, alone in the streets of Tokyo, all because there’s nothing waiting for you at home.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” a voice says from beside you. It’s deep and quiet, almost monotonous, but you’d recognise the hint of concern anywhere. Megumi slightly grimaces at the sight of you exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“I don’t.” With a scoff, you put out the cigarette in the ashtray and turn to face him instead. “How’d you know I’d be here?”

He frowns. It amuses you how it seems to have been a permanent expression etched on his face since you were kids. You don’t remember if you’ve ever seen him with a different look, but that’s on you, you suppose. You haven’t spent much time with him for a while now. Time ages you and your weariness distances you from those you wish to stay close to.

When he doesn’t reply, you speak up again, “I'm trying.”

“I know.” He glances at you. As blunt as he sounds, you know he means well; that’s just the way he is. He looks like he has more to say but he doesn’t, instead opting to hand you a packet of your favourite mints. Any other time you’d take it as an insult, but you find yourself getting sentimental over the fact that he still remembers what you like. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, popping one into your mouth. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

The corner of his lips quirks downward for a split second. With a quiet sigh, he lightly flicks your forehead, not reacting at all to the indignant yelp you let out. 

“Where’s your jacket?” he asks in a chiding tone, though there isn’t any venom in it. “You’ll get sick. I don’t want you sneezing on me.”

“You always take care of me, though,” you grumble without thinking, putting on the jacket that was previously tied around your waist. Another beat passes before you realise what you’ve blurted out. Were you being too familiar with him? You’re not sure if he still wants to be friends after all that isolation you’ve been doing. You part your lips to apologise, but he interrupts with a huff and a flick to your forehead again.

“Shut up.” The pink flush on the tips of his ears betrays the irked expression he wears. You’re not sure whether it’s because of the chilly air or if it’s because he’s blushing, but it brings a smile to your face nonetheless. “Let’s go back.”

As minimal as this may seem, you wonder if he knows how much it means to you that he came. Your days have been lonely with you feeling increasingly out of touch with everything, but everything feels fine with Megumi by your side.

You were only twelve when you started seeing Curses everywhere you went.

You’d never been the type to get scared too easily, but there was something about those creatures that unsettled you to the core. They seemed horrifically disfigured and hungry, ready to pounce at any moment, and you could only be brave for so long. You tried telling your mother and your friends only to be met with suspicious and concerned looks. 

They thought you were crazy. You didn’t blame them for that. You never believed in the paranormal, so this sudden change must’ve been quite a shock. It wasn’t until two years later did you learn what they were and that you could exorcise them, somehow like they did in the horror movies. Your memory of your recruitment is hazy, but you did remember sitting with Megumi and Gojo in the car and asking the most questions you’ve ever asked in your lifetime. Your new teacher found it amusing; your classmate, however, did not.

Your mother didn’t seem to mind sending you to a boarding school. With an elaborate lie about your full scholarship told by Gojo, she’d beamed in joy and helped you pack your bags. She’d be too busy to actually notice your absence, but that didn’t stop her from sending a message to check in on you every once in a while. At some point, you stopped responding. Not because you were annoyed, but rather, you just didn’t have the energy to.

Ironically, for a school with quite a handful of staff and students, you never felt lonelier in your life. You stuck by Megumi’s side for the sole reason that he was the only one you felt comfortable enough to approach. You didn’t talk to him much, but he was good company and you came to consider him a friend. Eventually, he started approaching you as well, and you’d spend time together like regular friends would do. It felt nice to be able to be around someone and not have to explain yourself all the time. 

In hindsight, you think it’s your fault that you’re so distant from everyone now. You don’t quite know when it all began—the depressing thoughts, the near-uncontrollable impulses, the lack of care for your safety and well-being. Every time your teachers or a peer brought it up, you’d simply dismiss it as just a ‘hormone thing’ which seemed enough to make them stop asking. Megumi didn’t believe a thing. He doesn’t have to tell you for you to know that.

But what else could you do? You’re alone, and it’s not like anyone can help with whatever the fuck is happening in your head. Your mother got you in touch with professionals to help with your troubles, and even if she doesn’t say it much, you know she’s always worried sick and thinks you should just come home. You’ve been able to keep yourself in check since then, but with the sadness now mostly gone, you now have to deal with the void in your chest that plagues you constantly.

The forest surrounding the dormitories is quiet save for the leaves rustling in the wind and the cicadas chirping their evening tune. You’re not sure how long it’s been since your last official mission. You haven’t been good at keeping track of the time for a while now. But at the very least, you know that it’s been too long.

There’s no doubt Gojo had something to do with it, you think bitterly. Otherwise, you’d be as busy as your peers right now. If there’s one thing you hate about this place, it’s the fact that no one here ever really gives you a proper reason. You feel trapped, ignored, and maybe if you were more carefree you’d look past it, but you’re not. If they didn’t believe in your abilities, you’d show them; you don’t think being the underdog is that bad, after all. Maybe they’ll finally recognise your prowess and respect you.

With your heart pounding hard against your chest, you grab your ootachi and flee, letting your instincts guide you to wherever feels the most dangerous, exciting. The more rational part of you tells you that you’re going to be in trouble if you don’t turn back now, but you find that you really couldn’t care less.

You need to feel alive. You need to feel afraid, to feel something, anything. While you don’t mind resting, you also didn’t overwork yourself to the bone just to remain stagnant. You didn’t spend weeks training with every weapon the school had to offer just to let them rust. You didn’t hone your cursed techniques only to not use them at all. So punishment and criticism be damned, you’re going to do what you want whether people like it or not.

You find yourself standing in front of a dingy abandoned shrine in the woods. Unease settles in the air as you slowly creep into the light of the moon. It’s dim, incredibly so, but you can’t afford to be afraid of the dark now —you have something to prove, and you’re not going to let yourself be intimidated by something so childish. There are blood splatters on the cobblestone steps, both fresh and dried, and your grip tightens on the handle of your sword. Your instinct to fight rears its head within your body, adrenaline and the humane need to survive rushing through your veins, but you breathe and try to rein it all in.

You have to think.

(It’s quite ironic how for someone who doesn’t give a single shit about their life, you always fight your hardest so you can live.)

You take another step. A twig snaps beneath the weight of your foot. The dried leaves crunch and rustle like someone (or rather, something) is sizing you up, keeping itself unseen to take you by surprise. Incomprehensible gargled sentences echo from within and the stench of death and decay grows stronger. Even when fear starts to wrap you in its cold embrace, you walk through the gate and into the dark shrine. Your blood runs cold and your breath gets caught in your throat, but you force yourself to face the task at hand.

You’re met with a grotesque mass of green; all of its endless bloodshot eyes leer at you as its tendrils slither in your direction. Misshapen hands protrude from those tendrils and reach for you, taunting you with the blood and entrails stuck to their skin and nails, telling you that you are next. 

Not today.

An aura of black and purple coats your sword as you withdraw it from its sheath. It’s not the best space to utilise such a long sword—the shrine is somewhat cramped and is lacking in space for mobility, much less combat —but you grit your teeth and decide that you will adapt. Electricity crackles from your blade, and without any more hesitation, you charge. Its tendrils are faster than you had anticipated; they come close to wrapping themselves around your legs until your cursed energy latches on to them and forces them to disintegrate.

The curse glares at you in fury. You can practically hear your heartbeat as you slash through its tendrils, splattering the wooden floors with its steaming blood. A guttural growl leaves the curse and the air feels thicker; it’s getting hard to breathe and your vision is starting to fade. 

Am I going to die here?

There’s a sharp pain in your gut. The sword slips out of your grasp and blood sputters out of your lips. When you look down, you realise that the curse has pierced through you.

It hurts it hurts it hurts it fucking hurts.

But you can’t die here. Not like this, not without a fight.

Shakily, weakly, you put your hands together, breathe, and with the last of your strength, you fire a powerful blast that hits the curse square in the centre, making it screech in pain. Vapour rises from its form as it melts into the ground and eventually dissipates. A relieved sigh leaves you, but then the world spins, your body hurts even more, and before you know it, everything goes dark.

You fall into nothing.

(Somewhere not too far from the shrine, apprehension crawls into Fushiguro Megumi’s system.

He doesn’t hesitate. He follows the curse residue and he runs.)

You wake with a dull ache between your ribs.

The first thing you see is never-ending walls of white. There’s a generic decorative painting on the wall along with an old clock that tells you it’s a quarter past noon. Blearily, you realise that you’re in the infirmary, and judging from the soreness that spreads through your body and into your limbs, you’re still alive.

Somehow, you’re not as happy about it as you should be.

You feel like you’ve been through hell and back. In a way, you did. You’re too tired to regret your poor decisions from who knows how long ago, and you’re not a stranger to deliberately ignoring whatever makes you feel like shit. So you do just that all while staring blankly at the wall in front of you, hoping that you’ll eventually fall asleep again and forget. Maybe even not wake up until the month ends.

(You’ve come to a realisation that you don’t want to die anymore; you just want to stop existing for a while, get yourself together then come back when you’re ready. Like pausing a game or a video being played, you don’t lose the progress, but you sure as hell forget what the hell happened earlier.)

The door slides open. You contemplate pretending to be unconscious again, but your ears pick up heavy footfalls on the tiled floor and you decide maybe you shouldn’t. 

“Hey, Ieiri-sensei,” you croak out, weakly raising two of your fingers in a peace sign. “I’m alive and moving.”

She hums, amused as she makes her way over to your bedside. “Yes, you are. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit?”

“Good. You would’ve been dead if Fushiguro-kun hadn’t found you. Can you stand?”

She gently urges you off the bed, hoisting you up by the shoulders as you try to maintain balance after being bedridden for hours. Or days. Or even weeks. You’re not sure.

“You’ve been unconscious for three days.”

The concerning duration of your bedridden state goes completely ignored. All you can think about is the mention of Megumi. 

You would’ve been dead if Fushiguro-kun hadn’t found you. 

“What do you mean he found me?”

She smiles wryly. “That boy’s been worried about you. Ran off from Satoru as soon as he felt a ‘weird pressure.’ What were you fighting?”

You shrug and wince at how stiff you feel. God, you hate this. Your legs are shaky as she helps you walk out of the infirmary and on the familiar path back to the dormitories. The school is quiet, making you wonder where everyone’s gone for the day.

“Some curse thing. Had tentacles and slimy skin. It was gross.”

“Well, that thing punctured you right there.” She gestures toward your chest. “Surprisingly it didn’t hit any vital organs, but you still lost a lot of blood. Did you exorcise it in the end?”

“I did.” A beat of silence passes. “Am I in trouble?”

“Yaga-sensei’s suspended you for a month. Oh, Fushiguro-kun. Just in time.” She helps you sit on a stone bench as Megumi approaches, his fingers furling and then relaxing by his sides. “They still need some support when they’re walking, but they’re healing quickly. They’ll be fine..”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“I’m still in my thirties, silly.” She ruffles your hair affectionately. “Be careful, hm? Come see me if there’s anything else.”

As Ieiri-sensei takes her leave, Megumi sits down next to you on the bench. His brows furrow the same way they always do when he’s thinking of how to say something nicely. He opts for silence instead, eyeing you cautiously. It almost feels offensive, but it’s only then that you’re aware of the bandages that cover essentially your whole upper body, so you brush it off. If someone else were in your position, you’d be worried sick too.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this visibly upset (well, for someone like Megumi anyway) over anything, and knowing that it’s because of you strikes you with a pang of guilt. With your lips pursed, you avoid his demanding look and glance at your hands instead. The bruises have almost faded away by now. Ieiri-sensei must’ve worked herself to the bone to patch you up.

“I’m not happy, Megumi.” Your throat closes up and your nose burns as the tears start to form and fall. “I’ve been trying to force myself to feel something. It didn’t matter what it was. I just hate being like this all the time.”

It hurts to cry. It hurts trying not to. Your state of mind is in tatters and you’re desperately doing your best to hold yourself together, but the way he’s looking at you makes you drop your guard completely.

“I know I’m surrounded by people, but I still feel so alone.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything. That’s fine, you think. The last thing you’d want to do is pressure him to speak his mind. He takes every word into consideration and thinks a lot by default, and if he’s still the same boy you knew all those years ago, he’d prefer to let his actions speak for themselves. 

“You didn’t have to come for me,” you murmur. “I’m sure you’ve got things to do.”

“No.” He pauses for a moment as if he’s trying to formulate what he wants to say into words that won’t feel like jabs. He huffs quietly. “I want to stay with you.”

Hearing him say those words practically has you melting on the spot, your heart fluttering as warmth rushes to your cheeks. You reach for his hand instinctively and with the slightest bit of hesitation, he responds by lacing your fingers together. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. You don’t know if it’s because you’re still exhausted or if it’s because you’re worried you’ll upset him somehow. Either way, it takes so much out of you just to talk anymore. “I’m trying.”

He squeezes your hand softly. “I know.”

“I say that to you a lot, don’t I?” you chuckle, leaning against his shoulder. I’m trying. You tell it to him every time you don’t have anything else to say, but it hardly feels true. Or maybe you’re just overly critical of everything you do, expecting yourself to reach certain heights before you consider yourself enough. 

“You are trying,” Megumi says. “Even now.”

You smile weakly. “You think so?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” He lets go of your hand and your heart sinks, wondering if you’d done or said something wrong, but then he gently flicks your forehead the same way he always used to do when you were kids. “I found you bleeding out on the ground.”

“Pretty gnarly, wasn’t it?” you joke, laughing nervously. He shoots you a glare that shuts you up immediately.

“We were worried about you,” he continues, ignoring your interruption. “I was worried about you. I thought you were going to die.”

“Is this the part where I tell you that all jujutsu sorcerers die at some point?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry,” you say meekly, “I didn’t know I was that important to you.”

“We grew up together.” You feel a slight weight as he rests your head on top of yours with a sigh. “You’ve always been with me. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t there.”

It’s unusual for him to be this open about his feelings; he’s never been the overly sentimental type like you are, so to have him be this vulnerable with you makes you feel like you’re going to burst. The cool breeze passes by as you hesitantly take his hand again, and for the first time in so long, you find yourself genuinely smiling. He cares about you. He loves you, despite what that voice in your head tells you otherwise. It’ll take a while for you to change or get used to knowing these things, but for him, you’ll do everything you can. You’ll live — if not for yourself, then for him. And as slow and tedious as your path to recovery may be, both physically and mentally, you think that it’ll be worth the endeavour because you’re not alone. 

You are loved.

You are loved by him, and for now, that is enough to quell every anxiety in the back of your mind.

You glance at him. “Wanna watch a movie later?” 

Almost imperceptibly, he smiles back. “Sure.”

(You never end up finishing the movie.

Halfway through, exhaustion gets the better of you, and you fall into a deep sleep on the bean bag you borrowed from the recreation room. When you wake in the morning, you’re sore and aching all over, but the blanket draped over your frame and the arm around your waist makes you forget about it for a moment.

With a content smile, you curl closer.

He’s still the same Megumi you’ve always known.)