#and it seems like ive finally got shit back to normal now

[propertyofwicked]

SECRETS part 3 - LN

lando x fewtrell!reader

no content warnings for this part ! :) (there is more fluff in this part, finally)

p.s i wrote half of this on a train that smelt so bad so if its bad we blame thameslink <3

part 1 -> part 2 -> part 3 -> part 4 -> part 5 -> part 6 -> part 7!

max decided he’d talk to his sister later, right now, he needed to focus on being there for lando. right now, they were sat in the mclaren garage, qualifiers underway and lando doing so well. even y/n started to believe she was a lucky charm. and indeed, lando now believed she was 100% his lucky charm.

the moment his post-qualifying responsibilities ended, he came bounding over to y/n and max, first taking max into what y/n could only describe as a bro hug, ending when he swiftly moved to embrace her, mumbling a chant of ‘thank yous’ in her ear. he caught max in an awkward stare, prompting him to let go of y/n.

“thank me? what for? that was all you lan,” she said, smiling up at him as she moved her arms to cross over her chest.

“thanks to my lucky charm,” he said to both of them, but smirking at y/n, “im starting 2nd on the grid tomorrow. strong start means a strong race,” he finished, still beaming from ear to ear.

“me and y/n are going out for some food in a bit if you wanna join mate,” max said, smiling back at his friend.

“yeah sounds good. ive got to shower, but i’ll swing by and pick you both up from your hotel at 5?”

“perfect, see you there mate.”

the drive back to the hotel was silent, y/n assumed her brother was tired, her brother was in fact thinking. more specifically, thinking about his sister and where she had been the night before. he tried to stop his mind wandering further and yet, images of his sister and best friend infiltrated his thoughts. max’s brain couldn’t stop dwelling on the way lando embraced his sister, how his hands gripped at her waist, and then he thought back to that night in monaco. the way his best friend stood behind y/n, his hands on her waist, her head rolled back onto his shoulder as they danced to the music. before he knew it, the fear and anger he thought had dissipated months ago, was bubbling back inside of him, his hands gripping the steering wheel to ground him from the feeling.

y/n noticed. of course she did. spending 20 years of your life around someone tends to give you the ability to read their every emotion - and this one was one that y/n was not too familiar with. max usually held his anger and sadness well, so the only times she’d seen this was in his earlier driving career when races didn’t go his way. she hoped so desperately he wasn’t angry with her, after all, nothing had happened, and as far as she was aware, nothing would happen.

by the time 5 o’clock came around, max had returned to his normal self, conversing with y/n normally. that’s a good sign, y/n thought to herself. and now, he was chatting to lando as he drove them to a restaurant outside of the town they were staying in. it was all going so well, max was calm, y/n and lando were friends again and nothing could ruin this moment.

“y/n, why is your lip balm in lando’s centre console?”

shit.

“oh i think it fell out the top of my bag when i climbed in the back,” she said panicked, her eyes quickly darting to lando, who was suddenly very interested in the road ahead. max seemed ok with her answer, humming with a quick nod before continuing his conversation with lando. y/n, however, was filled with a new wave of anxiety. why did she feel like this? she hadn’t even done anything? and yet, her mind was now plagued with guilt.

her hands came together, playing with her fingers and twisting her rings around to calm the anxious thoughts, a trait she’d had since childhood. lando glanced at her in his rear view mirror, seeing her facial expressions - her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth falling into a natural frown. he then spotted her hands. he tried to join her into the conversation, tried to distract her, but soon enough they were parked and walking into the restaurant. max chose to sit opposite his sister, leaving lando and y/n pushed together in the booth.

her foot tapped the floor, shaking her whole leg, as the boys talked, y/n chiming in occasionally.

“mum and dad are coming up tonight for the race tomorrow,” lando said to max, but his hand came to brush the side of y/n’s bouncing leg, his finger drawing small circles on her thigh, “they’re staying in your hotel i think.”

“good thing you did well today then isn’t it,” max replied, laughing slightly, “i can drive them to the track tomorrow morning if they want?”

“i’ll ask, im sure they’ll be glad. dad hates driving before my races, gets to nervous and forgets to indicate,” lando responds, joining max in laughing at the thought of adam norris forgetting how to drive.

“i’m just gonna run to the toilet, do either of you want a drink whilst im up?” max asked, pushing his chair back under the table as he stands. y/n nods, asking for another diet coke whilst lando declines, holding up his half full glass.

the moment max disappears from sight, lando takes y/n's hand in his, brushing his thumb up and down the back, her leg slowing its bouncing.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, quietly, sad eyes coming to meet hers.

“my lip balm lando. i don’t want to know the conclusions max will jump to, and i don’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger.”

“it’ll be fine, i promise. he’s got nothing to be angry about, we’ve done nothing wrong.”

“you didn’t see him earlier. i thought he was going to rip the steering wheel off.”

“we’ve done nothing wrong,” he repeats, “besides, you’re a grown woman who makes her own life decisions. fuck it if he has a problem.” y/n nodded in response. he had a point. she was a strong independent woman, she didn’t need her brothers permission to do anything.

for the rest of the evening, she re-joined conversations, feeling a new sense of confidence in herself that she had been lacking all weekend.

-

race day had approached quickly, y/n found herself sat in lando’s drivers room. max and lando’s parents had gone for a walk to grab some food, leaving the two of them alone. lando was pacing, his pre race nerves grew stronger every minute. quite frankly, y/n was sick of it - she sat back on the sofa, her eyes darting back and forth like the audience at a tennis match as she followed lando’s strides back and forth across the small room.

“lan?” she asked him, but he didn’t stop moving, and barely grunted to acknowledge that she’d spoken.

“lando? can you stop pacing? you’re making me dizzy,” she said with a sigh, and he finally came to a stop, and turned to look at her.

“sorry,” he said, smiling at her, as she stood up and walked towards him.

similar to last night, she took both of his hands in hers, pulling them to rest at the top of her chest. her eyes found his, staring directly into them.

“you nervous?”

“how could you tell?” he said, laughing slightly.

“you don’t need to be, you smashed qualis and you’ll smash this. besides, your lucky charm is here to save the day,” y/n said, adding a grin at the end of her sentence. the room fell into silence as he mulled her words over in his head. she was still looking at him, and he tried not to break the eye contact, but his eyes gradually dropped to look at her lips. she was still smiling at him, trying to calm him down the only way y/n knew how to. and she was still smiling at him when he leant down slightly, closing the gap between them even more.

“can i kiss you?” he asked slowly, as if to test the waters, the tension between them rising more than it ever had.

“i think that would be ok,” she said. he didn’t wait to join their lips together finally, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as his hands dropped from hers to fall and grip her waist softly. y/n’s hands moved to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him in closer, his tongue swiping her lower lip as her mouth parted to deepen the kiss.

he could’ve stayed in that moment forever, and he would’ve if a knock hadn’t interrupted the moment - y/n tensed up at the sound.

“lando are you ready? it’s time to get in the car.”

“uhh, yea. just give me a second,” he said, glancing down, first at y/n, panic leaving her shoulders as she established it wasn’t max, and then down to his fireproofs, readjusting the rest of his suit around his waist.

“we need you now, lando,” the voice said again, staying behind the door.

“we’ll continue this later,” he said pressing another kiss to her lips and her forehead, before walking to the door.

she grabbed her phone, her best friend was the only person she could trust to advise her now.

“well done lando, that’s p2,” lando’s race engineer announced through the radio, cheers erupting in the garage. y/n moved to cisca’s embrace, celebrating his win, after spending the entire race on the edge of their seats. the group, consisting of max, y/n and lando’s parents moved round to where lando’s car would pull in, excited to celebrate his podium with him.

when he was finally free from the cockpit, he moved to push his visor up, eyes darting around the crowd in hopes of spotting a familiar face. he spotted his mum first, and then the girl stood next to her. her smile could outshine the sun, he had thought to himself as he made great strides towards the group. lando reached over the low fencing, grabbing his mum into a tight embrace, her hand rubbing up and down his back supportively. when he stepped back and looked to his right, he saw y/n again. still smiling up at him. he would never get tired of seeing her smile.

his hands moved to her face, holding her jaw, eyes staring into hers. she couldn’t see his smile through his helmet, but she knew he was beaming. her own hands had risen to hold the sides of his helmet. he stared for a second longer before moving to pull her into an embrace tighter than his mums.

“my lucky charm,” he said to her, loud enough for a few people around her to hear.

“go get weighed and finish up. ill see you after,” she said as he pulled back, him nodding at her. just as he turned to celebrate with the rest of the team, she pulled him back.

“oh, and lando - im proud of you.” with that he left.

y/n turned to her side, looking at cisca, who was still smiling, an odd glint to her eyes. she then turned behind her, expecting to see her brother. but he wasn’t there.

“adam? where’s max?” she asked the man who had been stood next to max.

“he, um, he just left. didn’t say anything to me. he just kind of, walked off?” lando’s dad responded, looking as confused as she did.

this was not good. in fact, this was very bad.

★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶

tag list: @harrysdimple05 @scopeiguess @hiireadstuff @landosgirlxoxo @natt9598 @phantomxoxo @val-writes @secretgal66 @ririyulife @littlehoneyfreak @leclercdream

[morganski-19]

part 1, part 2, part 3

Wayne stays at the hospital longer than he should. Rubbing his fingers along Eddie’s pick necklace like a rosary. Hoping that if he just prays hard enough, if his voice can be heard, Eddie will wake up. 

The prognosis isn’t great. Each day that passes marks another day where his chances of waking up get lower. Even though many people have woken up from medically induced comas much later than this. According to the doctors. According to the pamphlets given to him at the start of all of this shit. But those are just words. Words he doesn’t believe fully. 

Six days with no changes. No improvement. Just a tube to make sure he’s breathing regularly and an IV to make sure he doesn’t die of dehydration or starvation. The doctors say that his brain still shows activity, and his heart hasn’t missed a beat since he was last revived. Eddie’s alive, but just how much?

How much longer will Wayne sit in this agony waiting for him to wake up? Or how long until the string of hope just ends six feet under? 

Religion was something that Wayne dealt with sporadically. He was raised Catholic, sort of still is a practicing Catholic. Goes to church when he isn’t too tired, still prays, and goes to confession sometimes. Just didn’t always make sense. But now, it’s all he’s got. 

Eddie’s in God’s hands now. Whether that’s the God in the Bible, or some other deity of the many other religions in the world, Wayne doesn’t care anymore. As long as he’s heard, and this being knows his boy is good. That he was taken far too soon. 

Eddie liked to say there was nothing much for him past high school. That he was going to run out of town as soon as he could and fight to make something of himself. Be a struggling musician, find odd jobs. Anything to keep him out of the monotony of a corporate job. Get him away from the conservative views and stuffiness of this town. Somehow get big enough to prove them all that he wasn’t a failure. Or never come back to prove them all right. 

It would be a sad day when Eddie finally left for good. The trailer would seem empty without the life that Eddie brought. The peace and quiet that Wayne always asked for not bringing any peace because it was too damn quiet. He knew this now because it’s what’s keeping him here each day. 

The beeping of the heart monitor was like the heart beating in his chest. Some noise came from Eddie to prove that he was alive. Almost like he was acting himself again. The motel room he was staying in was too quiet. No music down the hall, no clanking around the kitchen, no yelling at the TV or a book. Just the occasional noise if there were neighbors and people driving to the hospital. It was all the wrong noise, though. 

“Excuse me,” a nurse says as she enters the room. “Visiting hours are over, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Wayne nods, getting up from his chair. Back screaming as it pops itself back into place. It’s his day off, or night off tonight, so he can actually sleep. If it ever comes to him. Might be one of those nights where the ceiling and him have a staring contest. He’s been close, but never quite won one of those yet. 

The Chief’s car sits outside of the motel as Wayne pulls up. It’s only been a day since they spoke last, there can’t be that many updates. Wayne can’t think of any other reason he’s here. 

Wayne invites him into the motel room, the urge to offer him a drink screaming at him, but he has none to give. Hospitality doesn’t come with the room fees. 

“I’m guessing there’s something new, that’s why you're here.”

“Not necessarily. I’m still trying, but until the one guy I normally negotiate with comes out of hiding, that’s when the real talking happens.”

Wayne sits down on one of the chairs, too tired to keep standing. “Why’re you here then?”

“To check on you. I know the hospital life well. It’s no picnic, especially if you’re doing it alone.” He pulls another one of the chairs over to sit down. 

There’s no lie in that. “I’m about as good as anyone could think.”

The Chief pulls two beers out from under his coat, handing one to Wayne. He takes it faster than any beer he has in his life. Pulling out his pocket knife to take off the cap. 

“How long till that friend of yours comes out of hiding?”

Hopper shrugs. “Don’t know. Sent him a few threatening letters, and he still owes me one, so we’ll see. If things were better here, I’d go hunt the man down myself.”

Wayne nods. The company’s nice, he can’t lie. Sitting in solidarity with someone who knows what you’ve been through. Making sure nothing’s going worse than it already is. Like a sponsor through the hospital proceedings. 

When the sun finally finishes setting, the chief excuses himself. Not before handing Wayne a slip of paper with his number on it, just in case anything happens. 

The more days go by, the more Wayne is reminded that he’s not alone in this. Not fighting this battle alone. People believe him, more than just kids. People with influence. It shows in how people keep coming in and out of the hospital room. Saying how they know he’s innocent. That he’s guilty of some things, but not this. 

It makes him think back to that afternoon, snapping at the Harrington kid. It’s so easy to be angry at people who are better off, in so many ways, that vision gets blinded. Seeing someone who went through something similar to Eddie get out, and be conscious while his boy is still asleep. Probably will never have to worry about hospital bills and medical debt. It makes him angry. 

Even if the kid doesn’t deserve it. Wayne has no clue who this kid is and how he knows Eddie. Why he claims to have been there in the week Eddie was missing. What it all means. It doesn’t make any sense. None at all. 

But then the next morning when he’s getting coffee, there’s the kid again coming in beside Dustin. Talking to someone at the front desk before heading down the hall. Right to the elevator, and up to the floor Eddie’s on. 

Wayne heads back to the room, ready to kick him out again or apologize. He’s not sure yet. But, the room is empty. Steve is instead down the hall, talking to Susan Mayfield. Looking serious as hell, and halfway ready to cry. 

Another kid comes out of the room, one who’s stopped by a few times to check on Eddie. Lucas, Wayne thinks is his name. Remembers it only because Eddie had ranted a few times about some kid named Lucas trying to be on both the basketball team and part of the Dragons club. 

The kid says something to Steve before he’s being wrapped in a hug and starts crying. Steve just holding him as this kid breaks down. Presumably about the person behind those doors. Wayne assumes it’s probably Susan’s kid. Remembers hearing that she was in bad shape. Hopefully, that didn’t get any worse. 

Wayne returns to his room, not wanting to intrude. A nurse comes in a while later and asks him to step out for a bit. 

“What for?”

“Eddie’s breathing has improved over the last twenty-four hours. The doctor came in to check on him early this morning, and said that if by noon it was the same, the breathing tube could come out.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Wayne’s hesitant to believe anything these days. 

The nurse nods. “As long as his oxygen levels stay, well level, then yes. It means that his body is well on the way to recovery.”

Wayne nods, taking his coffee to the waiting room. There, he just waits.

Next part

Note: The next part of this will get a bit interesting. I've been having ideas for a while now of making this duel POV between Wayne and someone else, maybe Steve. Mainly because I keep thinking of conversations that would happen, but Wayne would be nowhere to witness it. But I think what this fic needs is a POV not directly in the main relationship that will be happening, to keep it an outsider POV fic. So I'm thinking that the second POV would be from either Robin or Dustin. I'm currently deciding between the two so let me know what you think. I'm also going to start posting this to ao3, and will provide the link to that once I think of a title. I will continue to post the smaller parts here on tumblr, and you will not be missing out on any of the story if you only follow it on here. For now all of the parts will also have the tag #morgan's wayne POV. If that changes, as it probably will since this is no longer just a wayne POV fic, I will let you know. Also, Max is alive, they just got a heavy diagnosis that you will learn of later.

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77, @here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium, @resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly, @gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight, @devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug, @greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake, @morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs

[roxannarichie]

The Anomaly | Miguel O’Hara

Someone on my google formed asked me the inspiration for “Anomaly” and this TikTok video/ audio inspired me. For a week I just was infatuated with Miguel character and then after watching this video, I felt bad for him.

CHAPTER TWO: FIVE SENSES

TW: Mentions of Blood, Mentions of arousal

Miguel walks through the pixelated portal into a seemingly normal world. Observing his surroundings, it was two hours away from midnight. He gazed at the device on his wrist. In this world, it was 2023, New York City— instead of Nueva City like in his universe—10:47 pm. The device vibrated, alarming Miguel of the location of the anomaly. He hummed to himself, there was no way this woman was out at night this late— in New York City.

Knowing that this woman was not Spider-woman in her world made him wonder who was? This also meant it wasn’t smart to just snatch her off the street…

That is what you would think Miguel would have thought but no, he literally was planning to snatch her up, paralyze her with his teeth and take her back to HQ for tests and questioning. Staying in the shadow, he follows the anomaly. Spotting the anomaly, he tilted his head to the side. She was exiting what seemed to be karaoke club. She was smiling and laughing at whoever was on the other side of the door. She waved at the unknown person and walks to a light and cross the street and coming down the street he was on.

“Buena niña, coming right into my we“ Miguel wavered. As he inhaled he was overcome by an immense amount of… he didn’t even know what to call it. It’s was strange. Miguel has never in his life, no matter the universe smelled something so…good. His heart began to pick up pace, his breath was short and his forehead had a brand new layer of sweat. He quickly climbed down and back into the alleyway, where he first appeared. His eyes wide under his mask, why was he shaking. His body trembled and he felt a knot and a burning sensation in his belly. He held his underbelly as the sensation swelled. He groans in confusion, “W-what the fuck–“

He moaned as another wave of sensation came over him, the smell was getting closer. He didn’t even know if this was supposed to be painful, he gasped as he felt the blood rushing not only to his face but to—

“Hello? Is someone back here.” A voice of a woman, who he knew was the anomaly called into the dark alleyway. As her smell got closer and more suffocating, the more woozy, he became. He felt blood fall down his mouth and on to the floor. He would absolutely not let this be how the anomaly saw him. “Stay back!”

He yelled at her, a trowel from deep in his throat came out. “But you smell funny..” She replied. This caused Miguel to think, this affect on him must be something that only happens in the universe. He already has heightened senses but it seemed everyone on this earth emitted a large and noticeable amount of smell. He finally noticed the lingering smell of other people that didn’t seems to affect him much. He turned to look at her face but his vision was blurry, shit.

Was he about to pass out? there’s no way? His body leaned over, slowly loses his senses, and he loses consciousness.

*

His hearing was the first thing he gained back and he was rewarded with a constant beeping sound...What is that noise? The first thing he saw was a white ceiling and an IV line. He slightly shivered as he felt the cold air. Observing his surroundings, he laid eyes on her. The anomaly...

Hearing his movement, she looked over to see him staring at her. “Yr’awake, how do you feel?”

Now that his vision was no longer blurry, he got a great view of her face, a spider's view. She had big brown eyes and big auburn curly hair. She has a dimple on her left check that appeared even if she wasn't smiling and showing her pearly whites. Her dimples were accompanied with a round face and a little baby fat on her round high cheeks that didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. Her lips where full and... inviting, no! If he had seen her on the street he would have most definitely not have thought she was twenty-five years old. As all his senses returned panic began to rise as he realized he was in a hospital. His hand ran over his face, he exhaled a breathe of relief when he felt his mask was still in place, “I made sure no one touched the mask, gotta be a reason you wearin’ one.” Miguel noticed the accent as his body started to calm itself down, the accent then explained the reason for the odd name. “Who are you?” she asked.

It seemed she had not taken a peak under his mask, at least she has integrity. “Miguel.” He answered plainly

“What happened?” he asked referring to the event that caused him to lose his pride and consciousness. He looked over at her waiting for an answer. “You don't know, that strange, everyone know—”

“I'm not from here.”

Willow was confused, even if he wasn't from New York, he would still know what happen to him because this isn't a cultural thing, it's a biological reaction.

“Ion understand, did your parents shelter you or sumthin’?” She have him a odd look as if he was the weird one. “No– how am I going to explain this..” he looked over at his wrist.

“Oh wow that looks advanced.” Willows interests were peaked as she watched his type something into his ‘watch’. Miguel groaned internally has it turned off the “do not disturb” button, he was about to hear a mouth full from Lyla.

“If I was human I would put you in a watch for over 12 hours and lock you away so you know how it felt to be in a watch. Do you know how nerve wreaking it is to be able to have access to you vitals and to watch you go unconscious and not being able to do noth— oh my gosh it's the anomaly– hi!” Lyla rants until she finally noticed the woman on the other bed, Lyla frantically waves at Willow with a big smile. Willow hesitantly waved back.

“Can you please explain what goin’ and who you people are?” Willow asked, she had never seen something so futurist. Miguel sighe, Lyla gave him a knowing look. He hated this part of the job...

“My name....is Miguel O’Hara. I lead an elite strike force dedicated to the security of the multiverse…”

Previously | Next

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[urlocalfaggot]

Hi! Can i request a platonic saiki k x reader? Like the reader is a transfer student who kinda acts the same as him, like their very quiet,seems emotionless most of the time and doesn’t smile often but their really sweet and is probably the one who nags him the least (and buys him jelly coffe :3) idk just some cute shit i thought of, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to!

ive never written a platonic kind of thing but im all up for a challenge! :)

Fandom: The Disastrous Life of Saiki K

Character: Kusuo Saiki

platonic

Just Like Me

Today was (M/n)'s first day at PK Academy. Any normal person would be scared or even excited but (M/n)? He was neutral. Didn't hate it but didn't love it either. And now here he was walking into the gates of his new school. In class, there were a bunch of people talking about yet another new transfer student. The teacher walked in, silencing the chatter. "Alright class, we have a transfer student. I expect you to treat them with respect. You may come in." The (h/c) haired male walked in. "Hello, im (M/n) (L/n)." He then walked straight to an empty seat, Not even waiting for the teacher to tell him where to sit. 'He seems.. normal' a certain pink haired male thought.

It has now been some time after the (h/c) haired male transferred to PK Academy and needless to say, Saiki wasn't annoyed by this new student. The other ones... well that's different. But so was (M/n). He wasn't loud or obnoxious or anything. He was calm, normal, and quiet. Although, because of this some people describe him as boring or even at times, emotionless. But not with Saiki. When (M/n) is with Saiki he is something different. A sweet, kind, fun person. Someone who can be fun without having to yell. Him and Saiki are usually seen together at cafes or even sweet shops. The first time they went Saiki ordered some coffee jelly. (M/n), not having heard of or seen coffee in jelly form, was curious as to what it is. "Hey Saiki, what does coffee jelly taste like? I've never had it." The pink haired male looked up at the (h/c) colored male then back to his coffee jelly. He slid one cup of coffee jelly towards the boy, "Try it. It's good." (M/n) took a bite and enjoyed the jelly treat. He bought Saiki some more as a thanks. As they were walking home (M/n) said something, "Hey Saiki, aren't you glad you finally have a normal friend? Haha" This made the pink haired boy stop for a second. 'He thinks we're friends.. I'm.. glad' "Mhm".

AA FINALLY I GOT ONE OUT. I DIDN'T KNOW THERE WAS A WORD LIMIT I WAS TRYING TO POST THIS FOR LIKE 2 DAYS 😭. anyway hope you like it!!! sorry if it wasn't what u wanted 😵‍💫

[kakashiislut]

I woke up super late (3:40 pm) and so I promise to write all day and try to make it as long as possible with little skips. I think I skipped a lot cause it’s just the beginning!! Love you ❤️

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Part 1 Here!

Warnings: Mentions of Simons past, blood, cuts, Y/N a bit horny, plzs tell me what else cause I forgot.

Authors Note: heyo! This will be a series, who knows!! Basically, Y/N is a underground nurse/doctor and she finds lil old Simon passed out in front of her house and she takes him in to care for him until he's all happy and healthy.

Word Count: 2,100.

Part 2/?

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The Solider~ Ghost × FemNurse!Reader.

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Feeling proud of yourself was an understatement. You’ve cleaned up your entire house, moped, swept, vacuumed, you wiped down all the counters and tables, you washed the dishes, folded your laundry, did your bed, lit candles and now you’re finally relaxing. Relaxing….you feel so-

“THE SOLDIER-“ tossing yourself up, you fixed your hair up and unlocked the first door, running quickly down the steps, you unlocked the second door using a key that hung around your neck. When you pushed open the door, you almost screamed.

There he was, on his knees on the floor, he was tugging angrily at the handcuffs that kept him attached to the bed, he snarled loudly, almost sounding animalistic. When his eyes attached to yours, he bared his teeth. “WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!” His voice was rough and sounded like someone scratched his throat up with knives. There was blood coming out of one arm. “Did you rip out your IV?!” You freaked, taking a step towards him, but in his hand where his broken wrist resides, he swiped at you with a syringe.

His eyes were still blown out, he was breathing hard and heavy, almost like he was struggling to get air into his lungs. He seemed scared, and he’s probably more confused why he’s half naked. “M-my name is Nurse Y/N Y/L/N,” you took a step back this time, “I found you unconscious outside the front of my house and I took you in to care for you,” you gulped harshly, thank god for the handcuff, you thought to yourself. The man surely would have snapped you in half without it.

You tried to sound confident, so you put your hands on your hips like a superhero and pointed your chin to the sky. “I want you to get back into bed…” Your voice was stern with a bit of hesitation in it, the man stared you down. “Unlock these bloody cuffs first…” He sneered, still slightly tugging on them. “No way, until the drugs wear off and then maybe I’ll even think about it” you protested, squinting your eyes at him. “Drop the syringe.” The man let go of the syringe “slide it to me…” you took a step towards him and snatched up the syringe when it came sliding your way. “Alright! Now let’s get you back into bed, okay? You’re probably hungry and thirsty” you smiled brightly at the man and helped him back into bed. “And let’s take care of that blood, and I’ll get you some clothes.”

You left once again upstairs and retrieved his clothes, all of them. You placed them on an empty desk next to the man and you got a cotton puff and some paper tape. “Can I have your arm, sir?” The man slowly let you see his bleeding arm. “Tsk tsk, that’s very dangerous ya know. You’ve gotten blood all over you and the floor.” You shook your head at him, motherly-like and patched up his IV wound. “I’m…I’m sorry.” He spoke, and you bit the inside of your cheek to hold back a smile. “It’s okay…it’s Normal to be scared…”

“Wasn’t scared…” he mumbled

“Sure you weren’t” you shook your head gently and got up to get his clothes. You helped him slip on a pair of pants and you grabbed his shirt bunching it up. “Can’t put on me shirt if you got my wrist bloody cuffed to the bed” He jangled his hand quickly and harshly. “Shit.” You mumbled, fighting your inner self on whether or not to uncuff him. “Promise you won’t hurt me?” You purse your lips and offer him your pinky “ya ya ya, come on” he hooked his pinky to yours quickly and you leaned over to uncuff him. Slipping his shirt over his head, you helped him put his arms through the sleeves and once he was in the shirt, you reached over to cuff him again, but he grabbed your arm “I’ll behave.”

You felt a surge of energy run down your spine and straight to your pussy.

Shit. His voice is so hot

“Where are you from…” you pulled away, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear and cleaning up the mess he made when he was flopping on the floor like a fish out of water. “Manchester…” he groaned, you quirked an eyebrow up “a manc? You don’t sound like one” you chuckled softly and watched his bare face contort into random faces. “Years and years of yelling.” He turned his head to the side to hide his face.

“I’ll get you food…” you got up quick, turning around and trying to forget about the heat making its way up your neck, to your cheeks and settling on your ears. You left upstairs and locked the first door and began heating up the soup. Once hot, you bowled a lot of it and brought it down on a bed table. “Tomato” you simply stated and placed it over his hips. You lifted the spoon and offered to feed him. “Can feed m’self” he mumbled, snatching the spoon and dipping it into the soup. You watched. Watched the way he shook while lifting the light spoon, he was focused on not spilling the soup, only to spill it on the table. He grumbled, tried again and eventually tossed the spoon down in frustration.

“That’s why I’m here” you smiled sweetly and he wanted to throw up, because he found it…cute. Cute. Ya. You helped him eat, until all the soup was gone and he looked a tad better. “Good?” You questioned, “Good. You made this?” He answered, and you felt a sense of pride surge through you. “Yes!” You gave him a big smile, “then it’s shite” you wanted to die for a moment, but you saw the way his lips curled into a small smile. “Is your name roba? I heard you-“ you stopped talking once you saw how the man’s face became terrifying, like you’ve just said something he never wanted to hear. “Don’t say that name.” He spat, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I-I’m sorry, you were mumbling it when I first saw you, and I just thought that was your name-“ the man rolled his eyes and turned to hide his face again. “It’s Simon.” He simply stated. You smiled brightly, trying to forget the way his face switched up so quickly. “Well, Hello Simon.” You moved the tray away and placed it on the desk where his clothes were and started cleaning up more. You hid all sorts of objects that could be weapons. “Tell me about yourself, Simon, how did you end up here?” The man let out a groan, rubbing his eyes, before letting his arms fall to the bed. He took extra care of his broken wrist.

“I’m in the military.” You chuckled softly “oh I can tell. Lemme guess…it’s confidential?” You shook your head and went back to picking up loose Q-Tips on the floor. Now I have to throw them away. “A mission gone bad. Horrible. I was wondering for weeks. Barely knew where I was or who I was” Simon sounded like hell. It’s obvious he didn’t wanna talk about it. “Well…you’re safe now.” You fluttered your eyelashes at him. “I’ll take care of you until you’re back to normal. Speaking of taking care of you,” you got up and tossed the Q-Tips away and sat back down on your swivel chair. “You have a mild concussion. Your wrist is broken, you are VERY Malnourished, you have an infection, I stitched up like three? Different parts of you back together and if you don’t bring your weight back up, you won’t ever heal.”

The man stared at you, the same expression that he had even when he was passed out. It was empty. The stare he held was empty. The way his face was naturally set in place was…empty. The man was just an empty shell. Even the way he talked, he sounded like he was empty.

He nodded his head, “it’s too bright in here and I wanna nap. Leave.” He turned to hide his face once again and you sighed a bit. “Okay.” You closed the curtains and took the bed table on your way out. This time, you didn’t lock any doors.

—

Simon. Simon. Simon.

You searched for people named Simon in the British military and got 100s of people. None of them YOUR Simon. “Damn, should have asked for his last name at least, stupid Y/N.” Hearing your phone ding, you picked it up and pressed on the message. “Omg..I forgot”

The message was from your “friend.” He sent you countless articles and pictures of the man in your basement. “Simon Riley. Statues…Deceased?” You quirked an eyebrow. “But it’s the same man”

You were confused now, the man who was currently ALIVE in your basement, was dead on paper. You looked more into him. “Lieutenant Simon Riley? Must be good at his job.” You confirmed your suspicions when you saw his kill count, success rate and more. The man was a killing machine. Going back to your messages, you began typing:

{You: The man in my basement had a skull-like mask over his face. Does that mean anything?

Him: What you mean?

You rolled your eyes a bit

You: Like this *you send a picture of the mask*

You: ?? If this man is dead on paper, then is he hiding who he is with a mask?

Him: Can’t be possible, the military would need ID and…ya know…they would need to see his face. Don’t be dumb.

You: rude. Maybe they already knew? And just let him play dress up.

Him: I’ll look into the mask. Don’t text me.

You: didn’t plan on it.}

Setting your phone down, you huffed out loudly and rubbed away the sleepiness in your eyes. Even if you tried, you wouldn’t fall asleep. Your body simply wouldn’t allow you to. But nevertheless, you prepared yourself for sleep and once you hit the bed, you pretended to sleep for hours.

The man in your basement didn’t sleep either. He laid awake in the dark, thinking about how he would get out of this place. How he would head back to base and yell at his teammates for not listening to him. He was right. But here he was….in some pretty ladies basement. His head was banging and he was trying to ignore it. Those drugs Y/N gave him wore off long ago and all he wanted to do was puke. Puke his guts out. Like many times in his life, Simon wanted to disappear. He didn’t know where he was, the country was foreign to him and the 141 probably gave up looking for him. He knew he was a goner once his radio was ripped out. He barely survived those weeks of him aimlessly tripping over his own feet trying to find some sort of water or anything edible to fill his belly. Though weak, he planted his feet onto the floor and pushed himself out and off of the bed.

Simon wobbled his way to the bathroom, using the wall for support. He let out a small whine when his body protested to him getting up. His head started to bang harder, but he pushed opened the door and sat down on the toilet. He couldn’t pee standing up. No no, he’d probably pass out. Once Simon was all finished, he washed his hand and splashed his face, his wrist was aching and he just wanted to chomp down on painkillers to make it go away. He hasn’t been in this much pain since his kidnapping in ‘08 (ish).

He stared at himself in the mirror and bit the inside of his cheek. “You’re an ugly bastard…” He muttered, letting his fingers glide over the bruises and cuts on his face. He wasn’t clean at all. He felt icky and gross, he also felt like he was starting to become sick. He sniffled a bit and opened his mouth to check his teeth. They were all fine, so he made his way back to the bed. This time it was worse. He felt dizzy. His head banged even more and his bones felt like they were gonna snap mid walk. He barely made it to the bed, before his body gave out and he passed out from the pain.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I did NOT proofread this at all. The italics are y/n thinking! Hope you enjoy. Sorry it sucks.

Tag List (it’s tiny and I’m proud): @illyanam1011 <3

[ginalinettiofficial]

hey what’s up hello okay so i finally just finished s2 e52 of dndads (had a very crazy work week so was listening in bits and pieces) and here’s the thing is that im also currently relistening to the whole season and earlier in this week, the most recent episode i finished, was halt and catch fireball, and before that ya know was mrs. swallows oak garcia’s home for peculiar teens or whatever that one is called where they are just. at normal’s house and we got to actually get to know rebecca a little bit and i have got to say that i don’t know if i could’ve picked a more painful and wild older ep to listen to as a precursor to dood riddance i really don’t!!! literally half of the shit in dood riddance just circles back to that arc in the swallows oak garcia home and it’s CRAZY

like first of all. the red vines, which they called twizzlers the entirety of e52 which was MADDENING as a person who legit just finished e30/31 where the red vines were introduced

but then like. e31 is where taylor gets the anime sword from nick!!! that he loses in e52!!!

there were a few other things that i’ve forgotten in the half an hour since i finished the ep because my brain is a sieve on a good day and i’m just getting home from two back to back 13 hour shifts (with an extra 1hr10/20 each day for the commute) so the brain machine is so fucking broke rn

but mainly. i wasn’t loving e52 esp after dood left i just was not vibing with it, i feel like the vibes were off in the room in a way that translated into the ep for a bit there, but then anthony in those last like three minutes brought it back around and with the roll of rebecca??? after i legit JUST finished listening to the eps that feature her the most prominently and like truly showcase not only normal’s relationship w his mom but also, as is said several times in e30/31 and their teen talks, just how similar normal IS to his mom and how he really clearly is a total momma’s boy and very much so seemed to be a kid who sought solace with his mom more than anyone else in his family and just. having legit JUST reestablished that in my own, made the end of e52 DEVASTATING for me in a way that idk if it was for other ppl??? idk haven’t checked the fandom yet im very disconnected this season but just.

like

i think that okay so we have ten parents it could’ve been, right? and five of those are the kiddads, and none of us want to see them die, so in that moment when anthony was telling us what was gonna happen, obviously my instinct was like “oh god don’t do this don’t do terry jr again but truly permanent” and then my next instinct was that it would be potentially even MORE awful if it was scary’s dad because finally there he is and that’s ALL she wants and for willy to take that moment from her would be INSANE and then (mind you this was my thought process over the course of literally 10 seconds, my brain is ping ponging in my head and has been since the second i got in the car to head home i need to sleep) and THEN my next thought was, oh god, but how fucked up would it be if it were marco??? oh god, how fucked up would it be if it were cassandra?!?!?!?! and then it was time for the roll and truly in those brief seconds basically my brain flicked through every potential victim and said “oh god THAT one would be the WORST”, EXCEPT for veronica and rebecca, and it made the hit of it being rebecca who was low down on my instinctual list to think of but then the second he said her name i was immediately ricocheted back to earlier in the week when i was listening to halt and catch fireball and mrs. swallows oak garcias home and how many emotions i had about normal and his mom just relistening to those episodes and then the fact that i DIDNT think to worry about her just

all of that combined to make that a CRITICAL HIT FOR ME OKAY like i am SO fucked up over this truly that was WILD and i applaud anthony burch for it and now am excited for the finale even though ive spent the last three eps just dreading it for several reasons but now im excited and devastated and i love that

anyways. that was word vomit i just NEEDED to get this out because the connections between those two episodes really will not stop hitting me in the head and i need to impart that onto SOMEONE. if u read this. ur a real one. rip rebecca swallows oak garcia you were a legend and i am so sad about u

[ramblingoak]

A Lil Somethin' Somethin', Chapter 3: Secondo's Office

(If you need to catch up: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2)

An anon prompt wanted Papa and Reader out to dinner...and vibrating panties.

Papa Emeritus IV x Female Reader: Smut, Fluff, Slight Voyeurism(?), Vibrating Panties and Copia being a dork.  NSFW, 18+ only, MDNI.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

“Dolcezza, what the fuck?!”

Copia stumbled back clutching his shin.  You had been trying to keep him from knocking on Secondo’s office door and had finally resorted to kicking him.  The last thing you needed was to be a sweaty, needy mess in your boss’s office.  Secondo would never let you live it down.

The only thing you needed right now was an orgasm.  Several, ideally.  

Your Papa straightened up and glared at you, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  You tried to ignore how good he looked in his suit, but like usual his clothes hugged him in all the right places.  He looked down at the floor for a moment and took a deep breath while you watched him warily.

“Mi dispiace, amore mio…I’ve taken this too far, haven’t I?” Copia looked back up at you and bit his lip. “Let’s just go to dinner, eh?”  He gave you a smile and then opened his arms up and took a step towards you.  Well, you weren’t going to say no to a hug, Copia was really good at them.

You gave him a small nod and he closed the distance and wrapped you in his arms.  Lucifer, he smelled so good.  He felt good too.  You did feel a little bad because you knew he was excited about tonight and having fun.  And you were too, despite the torturous lack of orgasms.  He pressed his mouth against your ear and murmured something in Italian you didn’t understand.

“Hmm, Papa, what did you say?”  You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest, humming when he pressed a gentle kiss onto your forehead.

“I said, ‘but you did tell your Papa yes.’”  Before you could respond he kissed you fiercely on the mouth.  You lost yourself in his lips for a moment before you felt one of his arms leave your back and then you heard two hard knocks on the door behind you.

That son of a bitch.

After a moment Secondo’s voice called out from inside and Copia pulled away with a smirk on his face.  He took your hand, kissed the back before you could yank it away and then opened the door gesturing for you to go in ahead of him.  You met eyes with Secondo and winced at the irritated look on his face.  He normally was done in the office much earlier than this but you guessed he had to stay a little later to finish things up since he let you leave early.

Copia strolled by you, grabbing your hand again as he went.  He led you to one of the chairs in front of Secondo’s desk and gestured for you to take a seat.  As soon as your butt hit the chair the panties went off and you jumped back up with a gasp.  Secondo raised an eyebrow at you and you just coughed and sat back down.

You were definitely never living this down.

“How can I help you, Papa?”  How Secondo managed to sound polite but also like he couldn’t give two shits never ceased to amaze you.  Poor Copia didn’t seem to notice and just clapped his hands together and bowed a little.

“I was hoping I could leave mio amore here for a moment while I got something from Terzo, would that be alright?”  Copia then shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and smiled down at you and then looked back over to Secondo.  You watched the hand in his left pocket warily, waiting for the vibrator to go off again.

“Why?”  Both you and Secondo asked at the same time, both managing to sound annoyed at the prospect.  You were not going to sit here in front of your boss while Copia messed with the remote.  What did he need from Terzo anyway?

“Ah I just need to speak with him for a moment, boring stuff.  Dolcezza you just stay here and I’ll be right back, si?”  Copia turned on his heel to leave, not seeming to care that Secondo hadn’t agreed to babysit you.

“Wait!  Copia.”  You glanced back at Secondo and then coughed and rubbed your hands up and down your arms.  “I’m chilly, can I borrow your jacket?”

Copia narrowed his eyes but quickly shrugged.  “Of course amore, whatever you need.”  He stepped back over and removed his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.  You smiled sweetly up at him and shoved your arms through the sleeves.  Copia turned back to Secondo and gave him a nod before quickly walking out of the office.  

You shoved your hand into the left pocket to check for the remote but it was empty.  “Fuck, no.”  The other pocket was empty too.  That son of a bitch.  

“What the fuck is going on?”  Secondo was wearing the face he got when Terzo was being particularly annoying and you wracked your brain trying to think of something to say.  Unfortunately as soon as you started to speak the vibrator came to life and you dug your hands into the upholstered arms of the chair with a groan.  

You heard Secondo mutter something else but you couldn’t focus on his voice.  The only thing you could focus on was what the vibrator was doing.  It was sitting so snuggly against your cunt no part of you was unaffected.  From your clit to your entrance it was pressing into you.  A small moan escaped your mouth when the vibration strengthened.

“Are you sick?”  You gasped at Secondo’s voice and looked up at him.  He had an eyebrow raised at you and a grimace on his face.  You managed to nod your head and he muttered something under his breath and looked back down at his paperwork.  

The vibration got stronger again and you let your head fall back against the back of the chair.  You clenched your eyes closed and tried to steady your breathing.  You were not going to have an orgasm in front of Secondo.  Maybe he wouldn’t notice if you just slipped the panties off and shoved them under the chair.  It wouldn’t be the first time anyone had done that.

The vibrations abruptly stopped and you dropped your head forward to catch your breath.  When was Copia going to get back?  It was late anyway, Terzo never stayed in his office this late.  The bastard was probably just standing outside the door giggling like an idiot while pressing buttons.  As if on cue they started back up again and you didn’t even bother hiding your whimper.

“Sorella, what the fuck is going on?”  

“You don’t want to know, Papa.”  The vibrations stopped again right when Copia strolled back into the office whistling the chorus to Rats.  You turned your head and glared at him, but he just gave you a goofy smile.  He held his hands out for yours and then helped you up.  You smiled up at him and then leaned up on your tiptoes to press your mouth against his ear.  “Someday I’m going to get my revenge for this.”

Copia chuckled and framed your face in his hands, dropping a light kiss on your nose.  “I hope so, dolcezza.  I’ll look forward to it.”

“Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”  Secondo had his hands clenched in the paperwork on his desk and was glaring at the both of you.  You cleared your throat and stepped away from Copia, smoothing the fabric of your dress down.  

“Sorry, Papa!  We’ll be heading out now.  Grazie per averle fatto compagnia.” (Thank you for keeping her company.)  He nodded towards Secondo and then took your hand to leave the office.

“Tieni le tue strane stronzate fuori dal mio ufficio.” (Keep your weird shit out of my office.)

Copia snorted as Secondo’s words followed you both out back into the hallway.  He brought your hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss against the back.  “What do you say we head to the restaurant, eh?”

“Finally.”  He tucked your hand in the crook of his arm and then started down the hallway towards the main stairs.  Oh shit, was he going to have one of his ghouls drive you there?  You’d rather walk.  “Copia, how are we getting there?”

He pulled something out of his pants pocket and you stiffened thinking it was the remote, but instead a set of keys were dangled in front of your face.  You saw a little golden kazoo keychain hanging among them and raised your eyebrow.  There’s no way Terzo let Copia borrow his car.  “Papa, how did you get Terzo to give you those?”

Copia stopped at the top of the stairs and then shoved the keys back into his pocket.  He took your chin in his hand and gave you another kiss on your nose.

“Oh dolcezza, you should know by now your Papa always gets what he wants.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 4: Finally

Masterlist of my Fic

Ao3 Link

[sharpiedoodleee]

hiiii so. i know im an art blog or whatever but this is something i was possessed to write a little bit ago thats been gathering dust in my drafts for a long while now. ive got a lot of half finished art wips that im not entirely sure im going to go back to so i thought youd enjoy Some kind of content

just dont get used to it, im not a writer :)

SSKK: feelings realisation, ffffluff (?)

= S I N N E R =

“you’re a mess”

“i am not a mess-“

“ryuu, i can tell you’ve been crying”

that makes him pause, faltering a step before tutting and looking off to the side. damned jinko and his tiger senses.

“before you ask i wasn't on about your- very obvious, by the way, you should work on that- about your breathing. although, it is really concerning-“

“jinko-“

“what? you wheeze on a good day akutagawa and you and i both know it”

ryuunosuke glares.

atsushu sighs, removing his hands from his hips and letting the reactionary tension bleed from his shoulders. this is getting him nowhere. he twirls his aching wrists, clenching and unclenching his hands in that way he knows akutagawa would normally snap at him for had he not be so busy trying to keep himself upright. he sighs again

“just-“ atsushi softens his tone, careful to keep the concern out of his voice “show me. where you’re injured.” at the scathing look akutagawa diegns him with, it seems he wasn't careful enough. atsushi clenches his jaw and breathes in through his nose. he never thought listening to kunikidas breathing excercises would come in handy for him - he likes to think hes a fairly calm person, but getting akutagawa to take care of himself would break even the most patient man.

he rolls his eyes “seriously, i could smell the blood on you before i could see you ,ryuu. im just really hoping its all yours”

ryuunosuke huffs a quiet “you’re such a bitch” that startles a incredulous laugh from atsushi. the tiger watches as the other man groans in defeat and lets himself sink to the floor; bracing against the brick behind him and clutching at his seemingly still bleeding side. if the weretiger is going to be so needlessly invasive he may as well rest, ryuunosuke muses, its not like the jinko hasnt seen him in worse conditions. he cringes away memories of a fleeting confession at sea, bleeding out infront of the detective again probably isnt the appropriate time to talk about it.

atsushi stops, squints, reassessing the mafioso “unless youve broken our promise-“

“alright- i messed up, jinko. is that what you wanted to hear? who knew you were such a fucking sadist-” he growls, annoyed now that the weretiger is still so untrusting of him “but i am not so imprudent as to keep my mistakes from you- seeing as that detective agency has finally taught you how to use that brain of yours” he doesnt bother to keep the bitterness out of his tone, they have both said and done much worse to each other after all. he leans back, ignoring his aching body’s protests and meets the weretigers now raised brow.

ryuunosuke sighs and goes lax against the wall, closing his eyes. fucking jinko…

“i have done a lot of shit in my life, jinko, but never once have i lied to you. i havent broken our promise and i wont. you should know this by now, you fool.”

the weretiger twitches, the name seemingly triggering something as his gaze slides off of ryuunosukes eyes and down to his neck. as the silence drags on the older opens his eyes, furrowing his brow as he takes in the jinkos frozen frame. His pupils are near pinpricks, jittering in the confides of his iris as his body is wracked with tremors. hes alarmingly silent, even as the tears overflow and begin to stream down his cheeks, even as his face contorts unattractively and his breathing speeds up. he wraps his arms around himself and ryuunosuke begrudgingly drags himself to his feet once again.

“…jinko?”

…

no response.

ryuunosuke blinks, the weretiger better not be fucking with him. he takes a tentative step forward, raising his palms placatingly from around his side and coiling rashomon around himself to hopefully keep his innards in, gods willing.

“atsushi…can you hear me?”

as he approaches he realises that atsushis now vacant gaze is still fixed to the wall ryuunosuke was sat against, seemingly caught on a ghost only he can see. hes yet to react to his aproach. doesnt seem to have noticed him move at all, really. and isnt that unusual? for someone who was just bitching about being able to hear every weary breath ryuunosuke took, the weretiger is alarmingly still. too struck by whatever horror his mind has conjured up this time to be aware of his surroundings, ryuunosuke imagines.

how the detective agency are still so seemingly oblivious to the weretigers plight ryuunosuke doesnt know.

but its not like he cares about the jinko.

…right?

shaking his head, the mafioso pushes that train of thought away and braces himself. if the jinko hadnt literally just been questioning his integrity as a partner he wouldve probably felt more guilty for what hes about to do, hes aware its horribly unorthodox. if his sibling knew of this they would surely have his head but its not like he has many options seeing as atsushi is near narcose. it may be brutish and harsh, even cruel to some,

but it works.

ryuunosuke taps the still quivering shoulder of the tiger and is unsuprised when that impassive gaze snaps to him with a mildly concerning crack of the jinkos neck. when that achingly familiar glow halos the alley in blue ryuunosuke sucks in a breathe and drops himself as low as he can to the sticky concrete below. his vision swims from the sudden movement and he can feel rashomon tighten her grip on his still bleeding wound, unsure if it was him who told her to or simply a byproduct of his coats concern.

he laughs deliriously. his coat is concerned but his supposed partner just tried to gut him? what a world he lives in…

gods, he hopes the tiger doesnt fancy a brawl in this tight, urine soaked alley. ryuunosuke is barely clinging to his conscious as it is.

when no second blow befalls his now prone body though, he chances a look up and immediately regrets it.

atsushi is staring at him now, his eyes glassy and overflowing with tears that smear his flushed face and nearly glitter in the dull light of the alley. hes clearly attempting to reaquaint himself with reality, stanced as he is over ryuunosukes unprotected form. his arm is still half raised from attacking him; cheap, flimsy shirt lifting to reveal smooth, tan skin…the mafioso laments over his own sickly figure as his eyes are glued to the rippling muscle hiding under there. a sheen of sweat is dripping down atsushis prominent hip bone that ryuunosuke wants to follow with his tongue. his eyes dragging down the shimmering silver happy trail he can just about see in the dying light of the alley.

…fuck.

ryuunosuke quickly looks back down at the floor, suddenly intent on examining the splatter of bird shit infront of him, lest his eyes rake any lower then they already have.

see, ryuunosukes not a fool. he knows he has…feelings to the tiger. it took a lot of reluctant, midnight rants with Gin to get there but he knows. the part of this thats blindsiding him is the all consuming, almost animalistic wave of desire this prediciment has sent careening through his bloodstream. its really not the time, but ryuunosukes never cared for things like that - you cant when you live a life like his. but that lack of practice at reeling himself in is really starting to kick him in the ass. the blood loss is not helping. rashomon is tacky from seeping up the evidence of his failure and ryuunosuke is just beginning to realise a lot of that moisture should be inside him. any remaining bloodflow is joyfully re-directing itself in a more unsavoury direction and ryuunosuke is increasingly glad hes laid himself flat on the concrete floor. his head is killing him.

throughout this whole process Atsushi is still just staring down at him, blinking rather aggressively as he processes what the fuck just happened.

…ryuunosukes really not sure how he manages to get himself in these situations.

[treetownconfessions]

new-ish to the blog (been here about a month....,,) and i wanted to finally get this off my chest bc it was killing me. i'm queer as hell now but BACK THEN when i was 11-13 i was a cis boy who just liked reading comics and doing a jump everyday in hopes of becoming the tallest jumper in the world. and at the time i found out about happy tree friends and got into it very fast, both bc the gore and extremity was edgy and cool to me and because i genuinely liked the characters. i developed a crush on flippy, because, who didnt, and finding out a LOT of htf fans felt the same made me happy at first. but it became really clear nearly all the people who crushed and fangirled over him were girls irl and i felt like a weirdo about it because i was a BOY and i had a crush on flippy who was ALSO a boy. BUT seeing those same people ship flippy with other boy-characters in the show gave me massive mixed messages, because everyone seemed to love it when it was in-show only and i hadnt EVER met another boy online who had a crush on flippy so i wondered if it just wasnt allowed when it was outside of that, even though i wanted to express it with everyone else so bad. i couldnt go to my irl friends bc none of them were into htf and i was worried theyd think i was weird anyway. so my solution to keep crushing on flippy while still being normal to everyone else was making a htf oc that was quite literally a self-insert of myself, all the way down to the comics i liked irl, and shipped him with flippy. but i never told anyone it was my self-insert and just said it was an oc very unrelated to me and i wanted to keep it that way. i made horrible art of us and wrote equally horrible fanfic of this "oc" and flippy, bc i thought it was a genius solution to expressing my adoration for flippy whilst keeping the handful of followers and online friends i had satisfied bc it was boy x boy stuff. i never wrote/drew raunchy stuff about them bc as far as i can remember it was just shit like going on a date with flippy at the library or having picnics with him etc etc. but once i shared a recent fic with one of my online friends about them and at some point they went "you wrote it like an x reader so i thought it was self insert lol" and i was genuinely in shambles. i thought they were accusing me of having a crush on flippy myself and they were about to expose me or something (they didnt even know i was a boy irl so i dont know??) so i defensively told them it wasnt a self insert and i wasnt attracted to flippy in the slightest. but i was really rude about it and they replied saying they never said that, they never accused me of having a crush on flippy or anything like that and it was just a mistake. i dont remember the entirety of our messages but i remember getting so butthurt and angry i kept telling them to fuck off and that it wasnt a mistake on their end and they HAD to be accusing me of actually liking flippy. i blocked them and i cried so hard into my pillow i could barely breathe and i considered running away from home that day bc i was convinced that person was gonna tell everyone i liked flippy even though i was a boy and somehow get to my irl friends and family and i would be considered a freak for it forever. i stopped posting my art and fics of that "oc" and flippy after that and i didnt know how to delete my account at the time (it was on deviantart) so i just logged out and never touched it again. ive been thinking about it recently now as an adult and i forgot the password to that account so everything is still up and there hasnt been a new comment since 7 years ago but it keeps me up at night thinking about the person i cussed out and all the published stuff

[lemonwrap]

Teeth & Tongues - Chapter 20

A very short chapter, but a chapter nonetheless.

Read it on Ao3!

Consciousness comes back to Soap slowly. For a few moments, he lays there, taking stock of his tired, aching body, eyes still closed as if sleeping. He blinks open his eyes and looks around, groaning softly. 

He’s in the infirmary. It’s not rare for him to visit an infirmary, as he was injured occasionally on missions, but it is rare he wakes up in one. It’s completely empty, minus one filled bed across the room, where there’s a sleeping form, and the lights are dimmed somewhat. A machine next to him quietly beeps, rhythmic. He swallows dryly, throat clicking, looking down. 

Ghost is there, the upper half of his body laying on Soap’s bed near his feet while still sitting in a chair he had pulled up to the bed. He nearly looks to be asleep. It’s endearing. He’s changed out of his gear and into a plain black balaclava, down to his civvies, although Soap can almost guarantee he probably still has a knife or gun on him. 

In contrast, Soap is ass naked, only dressed in a hospital gown, but at least he’s covered by a scratchy blue blanket. An IV is taped to his hand, on the same side as his injured shoulder. Shit, his shoulder. He had been shot. By Roba. The whole mission comes flooding back—the mansion, the jungle, the blood, the sharp pain of being shot. The pain is a distant thought right now. They must have him on some good shit, he thinks distantly. 

He raises a weak hand, the one not connected to an IV, to touch his bandaged shoulder and alerts Ghost, who grabs his hand in his own to prevent him from messing with it. Ghost lets him go in an instant, though. Soap wants him to put his hand back so he can hold it, wants to feel that warmth again. 

How are you feeling? Ghost asks him, and he seems worried. Soap can understand why. Watching Soap pass out from blood loss probably isn’t his fondest memory of their time together, he wryly thinks. 

“Thirsty,” Soap croaks out, instead of saying something normal, like “I’m fine”. His throat is dry and his mouth tastes like utter shit. Ghost gets up, stretching somewhat, and goes to the bedside table. There’s a pitcher of water and a glass that Soap hadn’t noticed until now. He’s much thirstier than he’d originally thought. When Ghost hands him the glass, Soap takes it and swallows the water in great gulps, trying to quench his thirst. 

Slow, Ghost scolds lightly. Soap only slows down slightly, too thirsty to properly listen. The water is cool and incredibly refreshing and he finishes it quickly, setting the cup down on the table. His shoulder aches a little as he moves. 

“Thanks,” Soap says, voice much clearer now that he’s had a drink. Upon closer inspection of Ghost, his brown eyes are underlined with heavier bags than usual. 

“How long have you been here?” Soap questions.

An hour or two, Ghost replies. Soap is a little touched, honestly. Ghost could’ve easily stayed in their room and slept, even if just for a little bit. Soap had to have been out for more than just an hour or two. Ghost has to be tired after their mission, and yet…

“You stayed,” Soap says, smiling wearily. “So you do like me.” 

Ghost rolls his eyes, but in an amused way, mirthful. Maybe. 

Soap’s mind goes to Roba and he becomes silent again. The bastard is dead, finally, and Ghost is free from his influence. What would he do now? Where could he go? As far as Soap knew, Ghost was a dead man, essentially. Still a ghost. But at least the worst was over, right?

“You did good,” he says after a few minutes. “He can’t hurt anyone anymore.” 

It was still my fault you got shot, Ghost says, looking incredibly guilty, like a dog that ate food off of the table. His eyes flick up to meet Soap’s. Soap just wants to hold him, tell him that it was okay, that he is fine and would continue to be. It was part of the job, after all. Soap would do it all again if it meant he could keep Ghost away from Roba. 

“Stop it,” is what he says instead. “Shit happens.” 

I know, but—

“C’mere,” Soap says before Ghost can finish his train of thought and blame himself even more. “Just stay with me.”

Ghost stays.

[notebooknonbinary]

Chapter One of All the Time in the World is finally posted!

(this is the fic i've been talking and talking about writing for like two months. Finally posting the first chapter... orz )

Summary: Mike and Will navigate life after the Upside Down. The first year, trying to figure out their new normal. Hospital visits, Sophomore year, dating, therapy. Through it all, they have each other.

Edit 12/4: Chapter 1 Under the Cut for my non-Ao3 folks

The drive to the hospital is conducted in shell-shocked silence. Will and El are both passed out from power-overuse, heads on both of Mike’s shoulders. In the front, Hopper is driving just above the speeding limit, one hand on the wheel, the other tangled with Joyce’s. Mike’s keeping his own in a tight clasp on Will’s limp hand, jiggling his good leg, and trying to breathe through his anxiety.

It’s hard to accept that everything is really over. Mike’s spent the last four years of his life practically stuck in fight-or-flight. The idea that they’ll never have to fight Demogorgans or Vecna, or any real monster ever again, almost makes him nervous. And it’s worse , that the general public doesn’t even remember anything apoplectic happening past the “Earthquake” and its “aftershocks”—he’s worried that the dissonance will make it hard to know what’s even real anymore.

The anxiety is winning.

The doctors try to put him and Will in separate hospital rooms, and Mike has a full-blown panic attack. It’s far from the first panic attack he’s had in the past four years, but it’s the first one where he can’t just slip away and suffer in silence. Instead, he’s fully unable to help himself from melting down. He can practically hear his dad at the back of his mind, berating him for crying; but Mike couldn’t give less of a shit about his dad right now. The patriarchal garbage that he spouts isn’t important, especially compared to Will’s safety.

He’s so terrified that everything is, in fact, not over—that if they’re separated, Vecna will rise from the ashes a third time to kidnap Will again. And Mike can’t take that. Never again.

It’s an irrational fear, he knows it is.

But rationality has never seemed to matter in his brain when it comes to Will.

So, in the end, they are roomed together, where Mike is free to look over every twenty ten five seconds to make sure that the other half of his soul is still there.

It sounds cheesy even thinking of it like that, but it’s true.

The path that led Will to Mike in the Upside Down, the way they’ve both known that the other is alive since then—the safety that they both feel by simply being near each other. Their hearts are intertwined. Maybe they always have been. It should be scary, that thought. It should make him want to create some distance. Instead, it just feels comforting. Safe. Especially since he knows it’s a bond he and Will chose.

“Staring at him won’t make him wake up faster,” a voice teases softly.

If it were anyone else, Mike would guiltily jerk his eyes away from Will. But El’s been aware of Mike’s crush on him for months. He just smiles, slowly looking over at her. She is leaning against an IV poll, and he’s got a sneaking suspicion she’s not supposed to be out of bed yet. He’s not a snitch, though. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. My head hurts.”

“Yeah, I bet.” He’s not the least bit surprised. She’s probably refusing extra pain medicine. He knows she’s not the biggest fan of hospitals, not that he can blame her—he’s honestly a little surprised she hasn’t had Joyce check her out early.

“Are you in a lot of pain?”

Mike shrugs. “I can’t feel it. They’ve got me on the good drugs.”

His neck is still bruised from the two separate times Vecna choked him, mottled purples and reds on top of greens and yellows, and a throat that clicks painfully whenever he swallows. On top of that, a Demadog shredded and snapped his shin like a twig. The doctors had to bolt his bone back together. If he’d ever wanted to go into sports (not fucking likely) that dream is pretty much done now.

Still, he’s far better off compared to Will and El. On top of all their other injuries, they’d both lost so much blood that Mike had been legitimately terrified that they would bleed out or get brain damage. El, her body being far more used to it, woke up first a few hours ago—woozy but brain intact. Will’s still unconscious, but the doctors think he’ll wake up soon. Mike just wishes soon meant now.

“He’ll be okay,” El says. She stumbles over to sit on the chair by Mike’s bed. “We all will be okay.”

If it came from anyone other than El, Mike wouldn’t believe them. But he knows she’s not the type for platitudes. “I know.”

They sit in silence for a moment. It’s the good, companionable kind of silence. He’d worried, after they broke up last April, that he’d lose her as a friend. He’s glad it’s only improved their friendship.

“How’s Max?” Mike ventures, knowing if El’s making escapes to visit other patients, Max would be her first priority.

El frowns, but there’s a hopeful spark in her eyes—one that’s been gone since they learned about Max last year. “The doctors say that she’s had increased brain activity. She might wake up soon.”

More promises of soon . Mike doesn’t fully trust soon. It’s like a parent telling their kids maybe —if something falls through, and that maybe turns into a never, it’s not their fault, they never actually said yes, Michael.

But Mike keeps this thought to himself.

He gets a steady stream of visitors after El leaves (read: is politely escorted back to her room). The first ones being Mom and Holly. It’s such a relief to see them that Mike almost cries again. Nancy, he knows, is elsewhere in the hospital, dealing with a broken hand and a concussion. He has no idea where his dad is (probably home), and, frankly, he doesn’t care.

“Mikey, you’re okay!” Holly almost lunges onto his bed—something she’s done hundreds of times at home. At home, however, he doesn’t have a bunch of wires and IVs attached to him. Thankfully, Mom manages to scoop her up in time to stop her.

“Hey, kid!” Mike holds out his arms for her to pass Holly to him, which she does after a moment’s hesitation. Holly immediately cuddles up to him, sticking her head under his chin. He presses a kiss to her hair.

“Mommy said you got hurt.”

“Yeah, I hurt my leg pretty bad, Munchkin.”

“In the Earthquake?”

Mike meets Mom’s eyes over Holly’s head. They and Nancy have already agreed that she’s too young right now to know about the Upside Down. Mom shrugs helplessly.

“The Earthquake scared a mean dog,” he compromises. “And it bit me. But, I’ll be okay soon. And, in the meantime, you and Will can decorate my cast so it looks awesome, yeah?”

Holly’s quiet for a long moment. Finally she says, “Yeah, okay. And I can draw whatever I want on it?”

Mike grins. “Sure, just make sure you leave room for everyone else, kay?”

“Okay. I hope your leg gets better soon. Daddy isn’t good at telling me stories like you.” Holly leans up to press a kiss to Mike’s forehead, and he feels a rush of affection. He hugs her tighter.

“Thanks Hol’s, that’ll speed along the healing process. I already feel a bit better.”

Holly’s the only family member Mike’s never resented. That probably says something mean about him, but the fact remains—Holly’s his favorite. And he’s missed getting to hang out with her. So he’s perfectly happy to listen to her talk about the playdate she’s having tomorrow, and how she’s been helping Mom volunteer at the crisis center by handing out juice boxes.

Unfortunately, he’s still in pain and on drugs, so he gets worn out very quickly. Mike falls asleep cuddling with his baby sister. He has no dreams, thankfully, only the soft warmth of knowing he’s safe. When he wakes up, she and Mom are gone.

Steve’s passed out in the chair by his bed, head tilted back and snoring like a chainsaw. Mike grins. Swapped one parent out for another, he thinks wryly. Even after all these years, he and Steve’s relationship is still a little contemptuous. They’ve never really grown out of the reluctant acquaintances stage they had when Steve and Nancy were together. It’s actually the relationship that Mike and Max pretend to have: ‘You and I will never see eye-to-eye, but we have several mutual important people, so I can’t entirely dislike you.’

Still, it’s nice to see that Steve cares enough to visit. Even if, judging by how dark it is outside, he’s likely picked this time because Mike is supposed to be asleep. He’ll allow this plausible deniability for now, Mike decides. And he turns over and goes back to sleep.

-

He sees Joyce and Jonathan at least once a day—usually more. He knows it’s more to check on Will, but they always spend some time talking with him too. He appreciates it.

At this moment, however, Joyce is with El. She’s getting checked out soon. Earlier than the doctors wanted her to, but later than Mike thought she would.

Jonathan is sitting by Will's bed, smoothing his hair back. It reminds Mike of first seeing Will after Hopper and Joyce rescued him from the Upside Down—still unconscious, and Jonathan refusing to leave his baby brother’s side.

“You were the blueprint,” Mike blurts without meaning to.

Jonathan jolts. “Huh?”

Mike flushes. “When. When we were little, I always saw how good you took care of Will. So. When Holly was born, I asked myself what kind of big brother I wanted to be, and…” He shrugs. “I wanted Holly to feel as safe around me as Will feels around you.”

Jonathan doesn’t speak for a long time, only studies Mike in a way that makes him feel like he’s under a microscope. Finally he smiles, soft and fond. “Thank you, Mike. That means a lot.” He looks back down at Will. “He needed safety and stability, I couldn’t do anything less. He's my little brother. I love him.”

“It’s easy to love him,” Mike murmurs, mouth moving without his permission. He resists the urge to hide under his covers, as Jonathan immediately jerks his head back up in surprise.

The microscope look is back. Mouth firm, he says, “He deserves love. Unless that love hurts him again.”

Shit. Jonathan is far too observant. “I think anyone who loves Will would kick their own ass before hurting him again.”

Jonathan smiles and nods, getting to his feet, like the matter is settled—even though Mike only half-understands what conversation they just had. “I’m gonna go check on El and my mom. Feel better Mike.”

When he’s gone, Mike turns to look at Will’s still sleeping face. “Please wake up soon—having all these weird chats on my own is driving me nuts.”

But Will remains unconscious, even as Mike receives more visits.

El and Lucas switch off giving him updates about Max—they don’t want her to be alone when she wakes, so once El’s released, one of them stays in the room with her at all times. Mike doesn’t think this is particularly healthy of them, but he can’t say he’d be any better if it were Will in a year long coma.

Thinking about how he’d been when Will was possessed, it’s safe to say he’d probably be worse.

“She’s been twitching a lot lately,” Lucas reports brightly. He’s downing his third cup of coffee, and his hands are jittery from the caffeine and, likely, lack of sleep. There are bags under his eyes. “Especially when we talk to her.”

While Mike’s glad to hear that, he’s seriously getting worried about Lucas. “She’s gonna kick your ass when she wakes up and learns how run down you are. You need to take better care of yourself, Lucas.” When they’d still been fighting Vecna, Lucas had been able to put some of this nervous energy into that fight. Now that Max’s (and Will’s) condition is the only big thing to worry about, the stress is getting to him.

Lucas doesn’t take offense to Mike’s worry—he’s entirely too self aware, so he clearly knows and doesn’t care. He shrugs. “I look forward to it.”

Mike can only hope that Max convinces Lucas to practice a little bit of self-care once she wakes up.

Some time after Lucas leaves, Mike’s visited by Nancy. She’s checked herself out by now, a cast on her wrist and a To-Do list as long as she is tall. She brings him news, and, joy of all joys, a burger . He’s so sick of hospital food.

“Have I mentioned lately how awesome you are?” he asks rhetorically, immediately digging into the food. Grease, Mike’s in heaven. He doesn’t even give a fuck that it hurts slightly to swallow it.

Nancy smirks. “You could stand to mention it more.”

After he’s inhaled half the burger, Mike speaks again. “So, what’s up?”

“I can’t just visit my favorite little brother?”

“I’m your only brother, Nance.”

Nancy lowers her voice, “Owens is going to get us all sorted, alibi-wise.”

Ah. It hasn’t occurred to Mike to worry about that. It’s kind of callous, but, as far as Mike’s aware, the Army people that were after El (and, later, Will) either came around to their side or died in the fight against Vecna. But, assumedly, the Army people talked to other Army people outside of Hawkins.

(There’s also the fact that some of the town still blames the Hellfire Club for Vecna’s murders.)

“So what’s the plan?” Mike wonders, around a mouthful of burger.

She sighs, sitting at the chair by his bed. “I don’t really know all the details yet—he’s going to keep Joyce and Hopper updated. But, officially, there’s been evidence found linking Jason to the murders.”

Found, in this case, obviously meaning planted.

The hamburger turns to ash in Mike’s mouth.

As much as he hates Jason, and all he did—and is secretly a little glad he’s dead—the idea of planted evidence leaves a sour taste in Mike’s mouth. It reminds him too much of recently refreshed memories; of ‘evidence’ planted at the quarry.

But this is a best case scenario in this situation, so Mike’s going to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he shifts the subject. “How’s Eddie doing?”

“Better. He says he’s glad to have a heartbeat again. He and Wayne will stay at Steve’s house until the charges get dropped. Technically they’re under house arrest, but their place is still a sinkhole.”

“Which is why they’re at Steve’s?” Mike’s been under the impression that Steve and Eddie don’t exactly get along, but maybe he’s read them wrong.

“Most of the Party is at Steve’s, Mike. His house is big enough. Argyle is staying there until he decides what he’s going to do. Lucas and Erica’s house is still trashed, there’s still a hole in Dustin’s living room. So their parents are there, and they'll be there once they’re out of here. And until Joyce and Hopper settle on a new house (of the few that aren’t in shambles), the Byers and Hopper are staying there too.”

“Wait, what?” Mike blurts, sitting forward. “I thought the Byers were gonna stay with us!”

Nancy gives him a fondly frustrated look. “That’d require telling Dad why , Mike. All the other parents are in the know except him. It’s safer if they’re at Steve’s.”

“I know, but…” Without meaning to, Mike’s eyes flicker to Will’s still form on the other bed.

Nancy’s smile turns soft and a little bit knowing. “Dad’s less likely to notice you’re gone on daily sleepovers than if there are extra people in the house.”

Mike knows she’s speaking from experience—the summer before the Byers had moved to California (the summer of Starcourt), Nancy had spent more time at the Byers’ house than home. Their dad hadn’t noticed. “I guess that’s true,” Mike acquiesces.

“And the both of you are still in the hospital for now anyway—Joyce might have found a house by time you’re both out. Then we’ll be able to see our Byers’ boys whenever we want.” Nancy’s grin is a little too mischievous for Mike’s liking.

He throws the burger wrapper at her, but she catches it. She gets to her feet, still smiling.

“Get better soon, baby brother.” She presses a kiss to his forehead—just as Holly had a few days ago. Then she leaves.

The next couple days pass in what is quickly becoming a routine of doctors, and visits from those of his friends that are awake and mobile. And, still, Will remains asleep. Mike’s been at the hospital for a week and a half. He’s getting anxious that something has gone wrong. But the doctors continue to tell him that Will will wake up soon.

Soon is such a stupid word.

Today's visitor, to distract him from his worry, is Dustin.

Dustin has gotten discharged before Mike—which Mike feels is a little unfair, considering they basically have the same injury. Even if Mike’s is, admittedly, worse. They’re both in casts. The hospital had to rebreak Dustin’s ankle to set it correctly. Dustin’s already used to walking around on a crutch, though, so he’s been teasing Mike about still being bedridden. It eventually turns into them riffing off of each other about their fucked up legs.

“We’re twins, practically,” Dustin laughs. Mike grins.

“Between the two of us, we’ve got a pair of functioning legs.”

“We’d kill it at three legged races.”

It’s not really all that funny, but it makes Mike wheeze out a painful cackle. Dustin looks far too pleased with himself. There’s a low grumble from the other bed that makes them both freeze.

-

“…’S loud,” Will whines, attempting to turn over. The movement jostles at the wires and IV connected to him. He blinks, then winces. His head hurts so bad —as bad as any of the migraines he got after his possession. “Fuck,” he hisses.

“Want me to go get the nurse?” a familiar voice asks.

“Yeah, thanks Dustin.” A beloved voice. Mike.

If he had any energy, Will would cry. He’s so, so happy that Mike is okay. Eyes still closed, he tries to smile in the direction Mike’s voice came from.

A wave of love and relief drifts his way—wrapping around his mind and somehow easing his headache a little bit.

He’s too tired to send anything back, but manages to whisper, “You too,” so that Mike knows he felt it.

Dustin comes back with the nurse, who brings, blessedly, more pain medicine. As soon as the headache begins leaching away, Will passes back out until the next morning.

Mike’s already awake when Will sits up the next morning. He still feels a bit like death warmed over, but the relieved grin Mike sends him helps a little bit.

They can’t talk about all the things they need to talk about—not out in the open like this, with all the medical staff and their family around. And there’s an unspoken agreement between them, that their relationship needs to be something talked about out loud.

It’s enough, for now, to send warm feelings back and forth. Now that they’re not in an emergency situation, they can play around with the lighter parts of their connection. They figure out how to play mental games of tic-tac-toe and hangman, and think about maybe planning a campaign together—before quickly deciding that the idea is a little too raw to deal with right now. Out loud, they talk about (and to) their friends, show off their get-well presents to each other, and act like they have for the last eleven years. Just because they’ve confessed their feelings for each other, doesn’t mean they’re not still best friends.

-

Mike is, inevitably, released well before Will—even with his leg casted up to his thigh for the foreseeable future. He knows that’s partly because of lingering worry over Will’s head, but mostly it’s because the In the Know Scientists and Doctors are intrigued by Will’s naturally developed powers. (Shocker, turns out you don’t actually need to torture kids in a lab! In other news, water is wet.) Still, Mike feels mostly safe leaving Will with them, because Joyce and Hopper (and often El) are in the room whenever they interact. That’s the deal Owens agreed on. (It also helps that Mike will know in an instant if Will ever feels unsafe. They’ve both silently agreed to keep this part of Will’s powers a secret from the doctors.)

That doesn’t mean Mike doesn’t come visit at least once a day.

Even though getting to and from the hospital in a clunky cast and on crutches (occasionally in a wheelchair if he gets too tired) is annoying and exhausting, it’s worth it to see his friends every day—to see Will every day.

But, again, he can't be with Will the whole time. Thankfully he’s not the only one visiting the hospital daily. He ends up spending a lot of time with Lucas, El and (often) Erica in Max’s hospital room.

Even though Lucas has been one of his best friends since second grade, he doesn’t really know Erica all that well. When they were younger, before Erica got involved in the Upside Down business, she was just Lucas’s Little Sister (similarly to how he’s sure many of the others see Holly).

But he was able to talk to her at least a little bit during that one ill-fated Hellfire game—she’s funny and has no issue snapping back at anyone idiot enough to make assumptions based on her age. And she’s damn good at DnD.

He’s gotten to know her better now, what with her being in Max’s hospital room with El and Lucas half the time (that’s enough to know that she’s a good sister too). At this point, he knows that the Party considers her one of them—himself among them. He knows, from the half focused commentary he’s kept up with Will at the back of his head, that Will agrees. Dustin already gave his enthusiastic blessing (is actually pissed to be missing it, but he's gone for the next few days, helping his mom move back into their house).

(He thinks Max will too—once she’s awake. She’s continued to show signs of waking the last few days, so everyone is hopeful that she’ll come out of her coma soon.)

The only person who likely doesn’t know Erica is a part of the Party now is Erica herself.

The four original Party Members had one induction ceremony together—they’d come up with some basic rules and a few secret code words (the codes are long lost to the passage of time), then gotten pizza and played DnD. El never got an official ceremony, though they’d explained some of the rules to her, and then by the time she was around all the time, Mike had felt himself too grown up (cue eye roll) to do something as ‘childish’ as an initiation ceremony. Max—Mike spares a look at her still form—was the only one of them outside of the originals, to have gotten a full ceremony (after they’d closed the Gate, but before Mike had begun dating El).

Now, though, the idea of officially welcoming Erica into the Party feels like a forgone conclusion—one that should have happened two summers ago, even.

“Lucky seven,” he says. Lucas and El both hide their smiles—they know his speech is coming, and he knows they think it’s corny. He doesn’t care.

Erica doesn’t look up from her book. “What?”

“Having you in our Party, even unofficially, played a big part in why we’re all still here. With you, we make seven.”

Erica looks up finally, confusion making her annoyed. “What’s your point, loser?”

“It’s past time we made your place in the Party official.” Mike sits up straighter, attempting to look at least a little bit dignified. In the back of his head he can feel Will’s warm amusement. “Erica Sinclair, the Party has decided that you are more than worthy, if you are willing, to become one of the core members. With this, you will be let in on Party secrets that the Extended Party is not privy to—if you swear to keep them secret. If you ever need help, no matter how mundane, we will be at your side—as you will be at the aid of your fellow Party Members. What say you?”

Erica stares at him for a long moment. The silence stretches like taffy. Mike’s struggling to keep his back straight.

Please don’t laugh, he silently begs her.

She tilts her head, thinking.

…

“Okay. I so swear, or whatever.”

Mike lets out a relieved sigh in time with Lucas’s.

“That was some next level nerd shit, Wheeler.” Erica is pretending to look annoyed, but out of the corner of his eye, Mike can see she looks a little pleased.

-

With him being in her room so often, Mike’s there when Max wakes up. He’s probably one of the last people Max would want to wake up to—but Mike’s only just managed to convince Lucas and El to take a break and go get lunch with Max’s mom. They’ve been sitting in here practically every day since the battle ended.

Naturally, as soon as they’re downstairs, that’s when Max twitches into consciousness.

“El…? Lucas?” Her voice is tiny and crackly from disuse, and probably leftover pain from the tube the doctors only recently removed from her throat.

Mike immediately presses the call nurse button. A few times. “Sorry, MadMax, it’s just me. They literally just stepped out—I can go get them.”

“No,” she whispers. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“…El’s gonna kick my ass when she finds out I didn’t go get them—but okay.”

They sit together in silence for a moment. Mike has the sudden, wild (reckless) urge to take Max’s hand. Just so she knows he’s here. He bites his lip, and is just about to try, when she speaks finally.

“How long’s it been?” she whispers. A weak, no longer broken, but likely pained, hand reaches up to touch the bandages over her eyes.

From talks with El, Mike knows Max had been there in the final fight—mentally at least—so he thinks Max is asking from then. “We defeated No-nose a little less than a month ago.”

Max chokes on a snort. “Don’t make me laugh, dickhead.”

Mike grimaces, thinking about how much it had hurt to laugh (or cough) right after he’d gotten choked, he figures her throat can’t feel much better. (He’s seen those feeding tubes that go down the throat, they’re scary .) “Sorry.”

“Mike, shut up with the sorries already.” She pauses. “Everyone okay?”

“Yeah, we’re all alive—partly thanks to you.”

He can’t see her roll her eyes, but he recognizes the tone when she replies. “ Seriously. Don’t get corny on me just ‘cause I’m an invalid right now, Wheeler.”

Any further playful bickering is halted as three doctors and four nurses swarm the room. Mike stays mostly out of their way, only speaking up when Max begins to cough.

“Can she have water or something?”

A nurse—one he recognizes as a regular in Max’s room—answers him. “She can have ice chips. Her throat isn’t strong enough to swallow regular water right now.”

“ She is right here,” Max grumbles, once she‘s stopped coughing. Her voice is even more hoarse than earlier.

“Yeah, but I bet talking hurts like a bit—” Mike eyes the adults still moving around and cuts himself off. “—pretty badly. My throat is still bruised from…the accident…and it took like two weeks before it stopped hurting like acid to swallow anything.”

Max grimaces, silently conceding the point.

The nurse comes back with the cup of ice, handing it off to Mike. Before she goes back to nurse stuff, Mike has an important thought and flags her down again. “Can you have someone go get El and Lucas, and her Mom?” he asks quietly. “They’re in the cafeteria.”

The nurse nods and leaves again.

Max grabs his attention again.

“You’re better now though, yeah?” She’s back to talking in a whisper.

Mike nods, then remembers she can’t see him right now, and says, “Yeah, for the most part. My leg’ll be in a cast for a while though.”

Max grimaces. “Me too, probably, from what I can feel.”

“You, me, and Dustin can form a gang,” he jokes. “We can go around beating people up with our bulky casts.”

Max snorts. Then she coughs again, just a brief wheeze. “Hey, ice boy, what am I paying you for?”

He carefully feeds her the ice chips. In between he catches her up on what little news there is to be had. The only thing that really shocks her is that Will has only been up a week longer than her.

“What was wrong with him?”

Mike makes sure the doctor’s are far enough away before he replies. “He went a little heavy with his new powers near the end. El did too, but she’s more used to it.”

“She’s okay?”

“Yeah, her and Lucas have been practically keeping guard here. At least one of them is here pretty much all the time.” He bites his lip. “It doesn’t have to be right away, but Lucas is more likely to listen to you, so if you can convince him to take more breaks, it’d probably do him some good. He’s kinda been running himself ragged.”

Max sighs. “Dammit Stalker. Yeah I’ll try and bring it up at some point. El too.” She motions for more ice. “But, anyway, Will okay now?”

“Yeah, docs are keeping him a bit longer, but he’s up and his head isn’t hurting as much.”

“That’s—”

They’re interrupted by the door opening abruptly. “Max!”

“Max, you’re awake!”

Mike quickly gets out of the way of El and Lucas. They’re both in tears, but smiling broadly, and they sit on either side of her to take her hands. Max’s mom stands near the doorway, hands over her mouth and tears streaming down her face—but not saying anything, and not getting any closer.

“I missed you,” El whispers, pressing her face to Max’s hand. “We missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. Both of you. All of you.” Max grins weakly. She turns her face towards Lucas. “You’re taking me on that movie date, I hope you know.”

Lucas’s laugh comes out as a sob. “I’ve been planning it,” he chokes out. He presses a kiss to the tips of her fingers—and it’s a sign of how emotional they’re feeling that Max doesn’t say anything about Lucas being cheesy.

Mike feels a little choked up himself. He also feels a little bit like he’s intruding. He’s never been especially great around people crying. Maybe he can go hang out with Will for a little while. He’s about to attempt a gracious exit, when Max’s main doctor interrupts the reunion. “If your friends would like to step out, Max, I can give you and your mother the details of your injuries and treatment.

“They can stay. They’re family,” Max interjects firmly.

Lucas and El he understands, but Mike kind of wants to point at himself and say, me too? Really? But Max can still probably beat him up from the hospital bed, so he keeps his mouth shut. There’s a warm fluttering in his chest that he tells himself is heartburn (it’s fondness).

“Alright then.”

Even though Max can’t see the grim look on the doctor’s face, Mike thinks she can sense the tension in the air. She’s always been far too astute (often much to his consternation).

“Give it to me straight, doc,” Max says, all forced cheer.

Mike kind of doesn’t want to be here. Even though Max literally wants him to stay, this feels like an invasion. Max is part of the Party—there’s little Mike or any of the others wouldn’t do for her. But this feels like something only the closest to her should be a part of—Lucas and El.

A lot of what the doctor proceeds to go over is old news. Max adopts a politely shocked expression when the doctor tells her the details around her falling into the coma—though Mike knows that El summarized to her when they were in the Upside Down. Mike’s stomach clenches, however, when the doctor begins to go over the extent of her injuries. Arms and legs broken in multiple places, collarbone snapped, spine slightly twisted out of alignment, and eyes injured. It’s a gruesome list. Mike’s glad when the man moves on to Max’s treatment and recovery. By now, her collarbone has healed, and the few open wounds have closed and healed with minimal scarring. But it’s her eyes that Max wants to know about.

“I’m blind, aren’t I?”

The doctor sighs. “Yes, I’m sorry. You may regain some light perception, but it’s unlikely you will ever return to full vision.”

Max nods, clearly unsurprised. “Before I—” She pauses. “—fell unconscious, I couldn’t see.” She takes a breath, grits her teeth. “What about my arms and legs?”

“On that, we have some better news!” The doctor is clearly glad to move on from the dour mood. “As you’ve most likely already noticed, while you will likely retain some aches, your arms are progressing nicely towards healing—and even full use; with physical therapy, of course,” he adds chastisingly, as Max slowly rolls her shoulders and immediately grimaces.

She huffs. “And my legs?”

“You have a chance at regaining partial mobility of your legs—though you’ll likely be in a wheelchair for daily use.”

Eventually the conversation with the doctor ends, and he goes outside with Max’s mom to speak some more. They’re silent for a moment after the two adults disappear.

Mike has suspected a lot of this, but it still hurts to hear. He thinks about Max and her love for skateboarding and bites back the urge to cry. Then he thinks about her as-of-yet unbeaten scores at the Arcade and feels even worse.

“I mean, it means I don’t have’ta see your ugly mug, Mike,” Max jokes weakly, trying to break the bad mood.

Mike laughs weakly, the sound wet with tears. “Lucky for you.”

“And this does not get you out of that movie date, Lucas.”

Lucas sobs. “I wouldn't dream of canceling.”

El is quieter with her tears, trying to keep up a brave face. “After you are out of the hospital, we can have a sleepover?” She asks.

“Hell yeah!”

The room lightens up slightly as they fall back into more casual topics. Mike scrubs away his tears when Lucas and El aren’t looking. In his mind, he curses the very existence of Henry Creel down to the deepest pits of a hell he isn't sure he even believes in. With a deep breath to clear his mind, Mike dives back into the conversation.

When Max’s mom returns, she’s alone and looks like she’s cried some more. Still, she puts on a (clearly fake) smile. “Thank you all for being such good friends to my Max. I’m sure she would appreciate it if you came back tomorrow—or maybe this weekend.”

“Why’s it sound like you’re doing that thing where you’re trying to politely convince people to leave?” Max groans.

Her mom immediately flusters, called out but not wanting to seem rude. “Well, it’s getting late, and I’m sure your friends are tired.”

Max turns her head in the direction Mike’s been standing. “Mike, what time is it?”

Put on the spot, Mike stammers for a second, before looking at his watch. “Uh, it’s, like, three PM?”

“I’d bet that visiting hours don’t end ‘til, like, five,” Max says. “They can stay as long as they want to.”

Mike thinks that Max’s mom probably has the power to kick them out nonetheless, but the woman doesn’t do that. Likely because she’s distracted by what Max says next.

“Anyway, has dad been to visit?”

Her mom’s breath hitches. “What?”

“When you told dad about the accident, did he fly down to visit?”

“Max…” She mumbles, but doesn’t say anything else. Her face is visibly guilty. Mike’s stomach twists.

“Wait, did you never actually end up telling Dad?” Max snarls suddenly. “You didn’t think he’d wanna know that his only child could have died?!”

“But you didn’t die , Max,” her mom defends desperately. “What would be the point of worrying your father if—?”

“You know damn well I could have,” Max snaps. “I’ve been in here for a year mom, and I know the doctors probably weren’t jazzed about my chances for survival. He never would have been able to say goodbye.”

Her mom mumbles something about a “clean break” that makes Max’s face go white in anger.

“No, he loves me! Just ‘cause you hate him, doesn’t give you the right to cut him out of my life—especially when you chose to bring two monsters into our life in his stead!”

“I did what I thought was best for us,” the woman chokes out. Even though Max can’t see her, her mom reaches her hands up imploringly. “I wanted us to be happy.”

“ No , you did what you thought was best for you ,” Max snarls. “Fuck being happy, you wanted us to be normal .”

Her mother’s face falls. “I tried my best,” she whispers.

Bullshit, Mike kind of wants to say. This is not his fight, however. He watches Max’s grip tighten on Lucas’s hand.

“Please leave,” she says through gritted teeth.

Ms Mayfield blinks away tears. “Max…”

“You can come back tomorrow, but if I see—” She cuts herself off to laugh bitterly. “—if I have to hear you for a second more, I’m going to say a lot of shit I won’t be able to take back.”

There’s a long, extremely tense silence. Mike chews on his lip and exchanges a look with Lucas. Lucas shrugs helplessly and keeps his mouth shut.

“…Alright,” her mom says. “I’ll come by tomorrow. I love you.”

With some hesitation she steps towards the door, then bows her head and leaves. The door shuts with a quiet click behind her.

Max waits until it has completely shut to reply, quiet. “I love you too.”

The room is silent for a long tense moment. Mike anxiously shifts his feet and, again, debates leaving. Finally, Max is the one to break the quiet again.

“So, did Mike end up having to hear all that, or did he escape the confrontation?”

“I’m here, jerk,” he prods, too gentle to come across as mean. “What do you mean, escape?”

“You can’t handle any drama that you can’t help with—makes you twitchy.”

Mike opens his mouth to argue, shuts it, opens it again, and finally says, indignant, “Rude, and untrue !” He turns to El and Lucas for support, but they both avoid his eyes, smiling in amusement. “Attacked on all sides.”

This, at least, at last , breaks the somber mood. The other three proceed to gang up in teasing Mike. Mike pretends to be offended, but, really, he’s glad to see Max laughing. To see El and Lucas smiling.

Eventually, after Max has fallen back asleep, both hands occupied by Lucas and El, Mike steps towards the door. “I’m…I’m gonna go see Will,” he whispers. “Tell him that Max is—” He pauses. “—well, not awake , but um. Out of her coma.”

Lucas gives him a soft grin. “Thank you for being here, Mike.”

Mike gives him a wobbly smile. “‘Course.”

[princess-pill-enjoyer]

life's been okay. nothing special. days just keep on going. ive had a job for bout 2 weeks. ig thats not really an achievement tbh.

before this, that work from home place i was barely working, prolly 5-10 hours a week. and i'd slither out of those where possible anyway. this one week i worked a whopping 2 hours within 2 weeks. I was planning on killing myself and occasionally tried to all throughout having those jobs so i wasn't really worried about the consequences

before that the only other in person job i had was for my ex best friend. she worked there so i applied and got a job o work with her. only for her to quit 2 weeks after i got in whiich lead me to quit prolly a week n a half later cause i finally got fed up with the manager.

so now, even tho it ain't the longest ive held down a place, its the first that i really cared to put in effort to hold a job.

im semi celebrating but im honestly miserable. my feet hurt so fucking bad so it literally doesnt matter how good my hours are i never want to leave my bed. the people up there are so cliquey and on my 2nd day out of training one of my coworkers went off on me for going too slow and "not putting in my part". theyre starting to give me longer and longer shifts. i went from working 3-4 8 hour shifts per week to working 3 doubles just like that. they sooo generously give an hour and a half break in between the 6:30-3 and 4:30-8 shift but.. who in their right mind is even leaving atp? i live too far for that. i'd be home for at most an hour. waste of gas.

and to me what's worse, this whole situation is exactly what i've been avoiding. i knew it'd come down to this someday. but what alternative do i have?

HA. you know as a kid, i never understood addiction. I never thought I'd have to deal with it. By the time I was 8 I knew I'd kill myself someday. if i ever felt bad, that'd be what i'd do. no need to force myself to do something i didnt really wanna do. but now it seems so easy. i don't know what i wanna do from here. i hate my job. i hate my home life. i dont like to talk to my friends anymore. im bored of games. im bored of music. bored of tv.

whisking the days away doing what i have to would be a lot easier if i didnt have to be fully present for all of this. just something to pass the time until i have a better handle on what's the next move. right now, the only thing i can do is save up money. i have shit to pay off if i wanna keep a good credit score and i have things i need to buy. what's me hating every second gonna change?

though i know it's a slippery slope. abusing shit aint gon work out as smooth as I wish it would. I'll get addicted and then I'll get used to feeling that way so it'll take more for me not to get annoyed. then it'll turn back to me immediately running back to it for every minor situation. and honestly with the job i got i'd just have to hope i would be able to push through it without it being noticeable

i'm not happy i stopped. i feel like had i still been on dph i would've known for a fact how to make myself look normal. i could be gone out my mind but long as i get the shit right i could just daze through the days. but ya know. now. i ratted myself out

and now im stuck.

nothing more for me to do. nothing else i could be doing. nothing else i should be worried about other than making money

I never understood why adults always told me i'd miss being a kid since i was always struggling so bad. all they ever said is that my problems then were gonna feel like nothing once i was an adult. but they were wrong. i guess for now. but all i wish now is that i used all that freetime back when nooo one woulda suspected anything if i was away for a lil while. back when i wasnt ful grown and it'd prolly take a whooole lot less to finish the job

but here we are. forced to keep going and doing what i can to suppress what i really wanna do

ah speaking of which... i got pissed the other day and i tossed one of my drawers and broke it. then broke my bottle for my vitamins by throwing it to the ground. then i accidentally knocked over this container of beads and instead of just sweeping it back into the thing and reducing the mess, i just kicked it as hard as i could and tore the container apart. there's still beads everywhere

that is something i can't force myself to contain anymore. everything else i've been dealing with fine but when im pissed im pissed. i gotta get that under control too

[pesterloglog]

Dave Strider, Karkat Vantas

Meat, page 38

DAVE: hey

DAVE: want to get drunk

KARKAT: HUH?

DAVE: i went and got all this fucking booze

KARKAT: YOU *GOT* BOOZE?

DAVE: yeah check it

KARKAT: YOU ACTUALLY WENT AND *GOT* IT.

KARKAT: LIKE, YOU LITERALLY LEFT THE HOUSE AND EXCHANGED CURRENCY WITH A REAL, LIVE PERSON TO OBTAIN ALCOHOL.

DAVE: yeah i walked into the boozery all pigeon toed and embarrassed

DAVE: like some fuckin hooch noob

DAVE: was all like yo whats the most pathetic thing you got to drink yourself to death with

KARKAT: THE BOOZERY???

DAVE: passed right by the box wine

DAVE: the bagged wine

DAVE: the shots they put in those little blister packs by the register

DAVE: the wine in the little sippy cups with the disposable plastic straws like juice for fucking babies

DAVE: i made that last one up i dont actually know anything about alcohol

DAVE: anyway two plastic soda bottles of vodka cooler seems to be about where were at right now

DAVE: i think thats what this is anyway

DAVE: i dont really care long as it gets the job done

DAVE: i decided that im an alcoholic now

KARKAT: HAVE YOU NOW.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: its never too late to develop a substance abuse problem

DAVE: ive been thinking about it for a while and it seems like its time for me to finally get on the wagon of not being on the wagon

KARKAT: THAT’S REALLY GREAT, DAVE.

DAVE: thanks

DAVE: anyway hows the inauguration

DAVE: you having a good time dwelling on every tiny little factor that cumulatively led to our electoral defeat

DAVE: and how if just one thing had been different it would have been us up there

KARKAT: UGH.

KARKAT: YOU AND I BOTH KNOW NOTHING MATTERED IN THAT CAMPAIGN BUT JAKE’S FUCKING SPEECH.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: i mean, like

DAVE: i just keep imagining what wouldve happened if that absurd rube goldberg machine of life ruining humiliation had been stopped at any point

DAVE: maybe just being backstabbed by his endorsement alone was something we couldve recovered from with some rigorous counter campaigning

DAVE: but what if i had been fast enough to cut him off before hed even said anything

DAVE: what if i hadnt accidentally fallen on him on the stage when i was rushing over there to stop him

DAVE: what if he hadnt freaked out like i set off fireworks next to a nam vet and started trying to fucking scrum me

DAVE: what if id just backed away from his punch with my legs like a normal person instead of warping the flow of time to escape causing him to become so startled he shit his pants

DAVE: what if i hadnt gotten so visibly grossed out by the smell that even the people watching it on tv could tell what had happened

DAVE: what if he hadnt started sobbing when the audience in the front rows started throwing up

DAVE: what if wed had better security and stopped that lady from running onstage during the fracas and announcing that jake has been dodging paying child support for their 3 kids

DAVE: like what was the LINE

KARKAT: IT WASN’T... *THAT* BAD.

DAVE: you think

DAVE: yeah see thats why im an alcoholic now

DAVE: want a drink

KARKAT: IF I’M BEING PERFECTLY FUCKING HONEST

KARKAT: I’M GLAD I LOST. I NEVER WANTED TO FUCKING WIN IN THE FIRST PLACE.

DAVE: dude come on

KARKAT: NO, I’M BEING SERIOUS.

KARKAT: I’M NOT EVEN DOING SOME SOUR GRAPES “I NEVER WANTED IT IN THE FIRST PLACE BECAUSE I’M A SORE LOSER TRYING TO DELUDE MYSELF INTO THINKING I DON’T CARE” SORT OF THING.

KARKAT: OBVIOUSLY I FUCKING CARE SINCE NOW THE PLANET IS GOING TO BE COMPLETELY RUINED BY THIS JUMPED-UP FASCIST DICTATOR WHO HAS EVERY INTENTION OF GRADUALLY GENOCIDING MY SPECIES INTO NONEXISTENCE BEFORE MY VERY EYES.

KARKAT: BUT I CANNOT FUCKING THINK OF A SINGLE THING IN THE UNIVERSE I WANTED TO DO LESS THAN BE THE STUPID FUCKING PRESIDENT.

KARKAT: THANK HUMAN OBAMA.

DAVE: wait was there a troll obama

KARKAT: I’M THE FUCKING TROLL OBAMA, REMEMBER?

DAVE: karkat

DAVE: you wouldve been so much more than obama

KARKAT: HEY.

DAVE: yeah buddy whats up

KARKAT: I JUST...

DAVE: hey dont worry about it

DAVE: you dont have to explain yourself to me

DAVE: i get it

DAVE: it makes sense. id always felt the same way kind of

DAVE: like about all my shit with sburb and whatever. the reluctant heros journey

DAVE: that feeling where youre being dragged along to being a kind of guy everyone is saying you have to be but youve never felt like theres any way you can really BECOME

DAVE: where every second you feel so sick with your own self doubt and fear that you cant bear to even imagine the future

DAVE: and you think

DAVE: why me

DAVE: even though you know it cant be anyone but you

DAVE: and thats why you do it

KARKAT: YEAH.

DAVE: lol

KARKAT: I WASN’T TRYING TO EXPLAIN MYSELF, THOUGH.

KARKAT: I JUST WANTED TO THANK YOU.

DAVE: huh

DAVE: for what

KARKAT: FOR... EVERYTHING.

KARKAT: EVEN IF WE DIDN’T WIN, I’M GLAD WE TRIED.

KARKAT: I’M GLAD WE WENT THROUGH THIS TOGETHER.

DAVE: me too

KARKAT: MORE THAN ANYTHING, I... YOU...

KARKAT: YOU BELIEVE IN ME IN A WAY NOBODY EVER HAS BEFORE.

KARKAT: MORE THAN I’VE EVER BEEN ABLE TO BELIEVE IN MYSELF.

KARKAT: AND I’VE NEVER REALLY...

KARKAT: FELT LIKE THIS BEFORE.

DAVE: felt like what

KARKAT: I MEAN, LIKE

KARKAT: YOU KNOW.

KARKAT: IT’S NOT LIKE I’VE NEVER HAD FRIENDS BEFORE. PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT.

KARKAT: BUT WHEN PEOPLE TELL ME THEY CARE ABOUT ME, ON SOME LEVEL IT’S HARD FOR ME TO REALLY BUY IT.

KARKAT: THEY CAN LIST WHATEVER JUSTIFICATIONS THEY HAVE FOR LIKING ME AND IT ALL FEELS LIKE BULLSHIT.

KARKAT: IT’S LIKE, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? YOU CAN’T REALLY EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE YOU SERIOUSLY THINK THIS ABOUT ME.

KARKAT: THERE’S NO WAY YOU ACTUALLY SEE ME THAT WAY.

KARKAT: YOU JUST FEEL BAD FOR ME. YOU’RE TALKING DOWN TO ME LIKE I’M SOME SORT OF PATHETIC WIGGLER WHO NEEDS TO BE CODDLED.

KARKAT: OR YOU’RE JUST IMAGINING I’M WHATEVER WAY YOU WISH I WOULD BE, SOME PERSON WHO’S BETTER AND SMARTER AND STRONGER AND KINDER AND MORE VALUABLE THAN THE PERSON I REALLY AM.

KARKAT: I CAN NEVER UNDERSTAND WHY ANYONE I CARE ABOUT WOULD EVER WASTE THEIR FUCKING TIME ON ME.

KARKAT: BUT WITH YOU...

KARKAT: BUT WITH YOU, IT MAKES SENSE. I GUESS.

KARKAT: WHEN YOU SAY SOMETHING NICE TO ME, I’M LIKE... YEAH? OK?

KARKAT: THAT’S COMPREHENSIBLE? I SEE HOW YOU GOT FROM POINT A TO POINT B.

KARKAT: I CAN KNOW YOU THE WAY I DO AND THINK ABOUT WHO YOU ARE AND I CAN UNDERSTAND WHY YOU’D WANT SOMEONE LIKE ME BESIDE YOU.

KARKAT: I DON’T HAVE TO WONDER WHAT’S MISSING.

KARKAT: YOU’RE ON MY LEVEL. AND I’M ON YOURS.

KARKAT: I BELIEVE THAT YOU SEE ME IN FRONT OF YOU THE WAY I ACTUALLY AM, FOR BETTER OR WORSE, AND STILL LIKE ME ANYWAY.

KARKAT: SO EVEN THOUGH IT’S STILL HARD FOR ME TO BELIEVE IN MYSELF A LOT OF THE TIME,

KARKAT: I BELIEVE IN YOU, SO I DON’T NEED TO.

DAVE: so what youre saying is you believe in me who believes in you

KARKAT: YEAH, KIND OF?

KARKAT: FUCK, MAN. THAT’S KIND OF DEEP.

DAVE: i know

KARKAT: SO, YEAH.

KARKAT: THAT’S WHAT I’VE NEVER REALLY FELT BEFORE.

KARKAT: AND I’M GLAD YOU’RE...

KARKAT: THAT WE’RE...

KARKAT: I’M GLAD YOU’RE MY FRIEND, DAVE.

DAVE: oh

DAVE: same

DAVE: so...

KARKAT: IS SOMETHING WRONG?

DAVE: huh

DAVE: no

DAVE: sorry i just had an absolutely insane train of thought that kind of sent me for a loop

KARKAT: UHH... WHAT?

DAVE: no its extremely better that i dont tell you

DAVE: i kind of forgot what we were talking about because it was so awful

KARKAT: ...

DAVE: oh right

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: all that shit you said about us being friends and on the same level or whatever

DAVE: yeah i feel the same way basically

DAVE: or like

DAVE: well

KARKAT: WHAT?

DAVE: im not sure that i like...

DAVE: hm.

DAVE: im kind of getting the feeling that... maybe...

DAVE: theres a level to what were thinking that isnt entirely coming across in words

DAVE: and since we dont have the right words we arent getting to the right actions either

KARKAT: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT.

DAVE: like maybe we feel the same way about certain things

DAVE: but what were saying and what were feeling

DAVE: maybe those arent exactly the same thing

DAVE: and maybe... we should...

KARKAT: WE SHOULD WHAT?

DAVE: maybe its time to

DAVE: talk

DAVE: about... that

KARKAT: THAT???

DAVE: yeah, like

DAVE: how... when you say were friends

DAVE: what... does that mean

KARKAT: THAT WE’RE FRIENDS?

DAVE: yeah but

DAVE: is that it?

DAVE: just friends

KARKAT: OF COURSE NOT.

KARKAT: YOU’RE MY...........

KARKAT: B......

KARKAT: ......EST FRIEND.

DAVE: oh

DAVE: i see

DAVE: well

DAVE: ok then

KARKAT: D... DAVE?

DAVE: karkat

DAVE: i

DAVE: i think i

DAVE: wait

DAVE: fuck

KARKAT: WHAT’S WRONG?

KARKAT: DID I DO SOMETH—

DAVE: no

DAVE: i just cant

DAVE: shit

DAVE: it just feels like

DAVE: what the fuck is going on

DAVE: this feels really off

KARKAT: ????

DAVE: idk

DAVE: i just keep having thoughts i know id never think

KARKAT: WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

DAVE: i have no idea

DAVE: im sorry

DAVE: GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD AND JUST LET ME DO THIS MYSELF!!!

KARKAT: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DAVE: dude

DAVE: come here...

[allycat128]

~VENT~ tw also

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The truth is when people try to deliberately destroy you, you have two options end it all or go through a massive rebirth situation not to long I had a pretty coincidencedentil relationship he was rather abusive physically emotionally mentally psychologically he completely destroyed parts of me but they were the parts of me I didn't want to exist I had to become some form of darkness to protect myself from him I engaged with highly risk taking behaviour that probably could have killed me I had to be stronger than I had to be when I was I child BC he trapped me but truth is he didn't trap me for ever I saved myself no one saved me I didn't need anyone to pick up my broken pieces I'm doing it myself when he isolated me from everyone and everything I was the only person I had once again but it's always been that way even when I had friends they were pretty shit anyway people don't seem to like constrictive criticism but back to the trauma dump my whole entire life I let people drain me in every single way possible and once they hurt me they didn't really get to know me any further than that I hid myself from everyone BC people always hurt me last year and til now I had this very destructive attitude towards everyone who hurt me BC that's all they were doing they didn't respect me my property or home I respected them tho I don't anymore but I decided to be a "bitch" I wish all the best for them I hope they accomplish all there dreams meet all there goals and find themselves and all but there no longer welcome in my life that chapter is done I can't go back anymore there's to many unresolvable issues I can't fix myself and everyone else at the same time sometimes I think I was the bad person of it all yeh some situations I was 100% I'll admit that but it's pretty sad when I think about I put so much effort into friendships just to destruct them for my own benefit but having no one is better than having fakes and copycats if they don't have access they can't copy and I couldn't even be who I was I wasn't a bitch I wasn't a cunt I wasn't all those bad things I was protecting myself in a harmful to other way but pretty much I'm doing a lot better now I'm not starving myself anymore I'm not even gonna say why that started its quite sad I'm actually eating normally again finally it was all because of people who put me down and my weakness I used to be really weak I'm not anymore I'll drop someone as soon as they disrespect disregard and blantly lie to my face I don't take shit anymore I'm finding re inventing/discovering myself for the millionth time but what pushed me to this stage is pretty much on a daily bases for 2-3 months I was told to kill myself to cut my wrists the last time I saw him he actually watched me do it he wouldn't stop yelling so that's what I had to resort to it felt like the only option he was still degrading me afterwards then I got him to stop and he comforted me while that was all happening I sent a voice recording to my brother BC I actually thought something bad was gonna happen he went to the police and he partook in the reason I got out that was the last time he also sa'd me multiple times he wanted to destroy every part of me but in all reality it made me stronger in the end it didn't permanently set me back the mindset I got into is I'm living out of spite I'm saving myself out of spite I'm looking after myself out of spite I'm cleaning out spite Ive become quite the exact opposite of everything he said I was I'm proud of myself to say the least

[blackvail22]

9/25/23

10:25am -

i just had my first appointment with my new psychiatrist? i think thats the word. i got diagnosed with BED (binge eating disorder), and ive been saying for YEARS that i had it, and no one would help me. its been 9 years since i first went to a doctor and told them about my eating habits; they didnt help me. i had an obvious ed, and im glad im finally getting the help i need.

my relationship with food is severely complicated. im obsessed with my weight and the calories im intaking, but i cant stop... binging. and the fact i have fat on my body makes me want to throw up, nd every time i notice it, it makes me feel like my insides are being scratched over and over. my fear of purging is the only reason i dont...

a month ago, i was talking with my counselor, and she asked me if ive ever been screened for adhd. i told her no, but i can tell her yes!! my new doctor did a screening thing for adhd, and i have it. shes referring me to somewhere to get a more in-depth test to see what type of adhd and the severeity of it.

i told my mom all of this, and she seemed upset. i dont understand? shes been so rude to me lately... i mean, she always is.. but it feels like she changed? shes so bitter, and shes being like homophobic 😭😭 out of nowhere LIKE WHAT PROMPTED U TO BE LIKE THIS? i SWEAR on everything, being a chronic facebook user ruined her. she wasnt like this before facebook LMAOO shes so sad. but, all well!

im going to try my best to clean my room again. i NEED to get my shit together!! its so embarrassing how messy it is. i have to focus on doing it. i have to do it today; i have no choice!!

10:17pm

news flash: i didnt clean my room. whos surprised? im going to try and get it together before i go to bed because i have to... i have or else ill feel like im letting my boyfriend down lol

yk idk why but being friends and flirting w somsone is so much different than dating them. its insane!

i didnt mention this before but im being put on a different medication that targets bed and adhd and it also helps depression. i have to do a bunch of testing before i take it, though, because its a controlled substance

im afraid of facing my past. i know that i was a fucked up kid, but seeing HOW fucked up i am is... terrifying. like i read through a few of my old roblox messages and woah!!! i was living a double life, holy shit! obvi... i used a fake name, fake age, and some of the stories i would tell belonged to my sister. ill forever be regretful for the way i was back then... it makes me think, though... did i ever really change?

i had this girlfriend named .... lets call her juju. she lived on the other side of my country, and we met because we both ran fan accts for a youtuber on insta. i became ... obsessive? quickly. i feel sorry for her, but i was 12 and she was nearly 16, so... she easily couldve cut me off once she found out my age lmao. idk, i kept trying to find ways for her and i to meet in person because i was so excited to meet her online. she broke up with me, and i made another instagram and pretended to be someone else for a while.... aka i catfished her. i didnt show her photos of anyone else, just used the name "katrina" like i used to. i got her to talk abt her exes and then she talked abt how she recently broke up w someone and how crazy they were. i knew then that my behavior wasnt normal. i didnt understand the boundaries i was crossing.

am i all that different now? i used his snap maps to see when he's at his dad and when hes at his moms or at school. when i planned on moving down there, i looked for apartments that were nearby his primary home. i attenpted to make an acct to pretend i was someone else and see if he would lie to me abt info abt his life. i didnt finish it.... i got like the ick from myself and was thinking abt how crazy i was.

i try my best to not be ... stalker-like. i wouldnt follow someone throughout their day to see where they are, who theyre with. i wouldnt use it to harm him, and if he didnt want to see me or talk to me, i wouldnt force him to by showing up to his house or texting him off the number i give to weirdos.

im getting tired. its 10:37p now, and i keep like closing my eyes every once and awhile inbetween sections.

i think the last thing i feel i need to rant abt is how i told my dad i have binge eating disorder and for dinner when i told him i didnt care what he got me, HE GOT ME FOOD FOR A FAMILY OF 4. he looked me in the eyes and said, "two cheeseburgers, 16 chicken nuggets, 10 cheese sticks, and a milkshake incase u get hungry later" when he KNOWS i have a habit of eating a lot of food in one sitting.

i feel gross from how much i ate today, and im still wanting to eat more.

being told "u can reverse everything thats wrong w you if u just lost weight!" and then having those same people ENFORCE ur unhealthy eating habits is insane

like, do u rlly want to help me? or do u want to just berate me for the hell of it?

okie song song time

this song is so ... relateable. typical pop song but its so good 2 me

[the-woild-is-y-erster]

I'm going to bed soon, but I just want to say (as an adult that dropped outta college and then went back) that your education is not final. It's not be all end all.

It'll hurt for a while, everythin hurts for a bit, but either you'll tell her or you won't, and that's okay. Your choices are for you, and we all care about you man. You're not stupid for jus like? feelin feelins. All that shits totally normal and valid but you hafta stick with life nd with us or whoever you ends up spending life with. I can't help much nd I ain't gonna pretend I can (<- on the aroace spectrums) with the whole love thing, but jus know that it's ALWAYS better to write your thoughts out then keep em inside. That way you can come back later and look at them nd see your thought processes nd stuff. Or you can write em out nd delete it if that helps.

Life might suck right now, but it ain't gonna suck forever. The only way that it WILL suck forever is if it's cut short, so don't let that happen, y'know? If life tries to kick you down, throw mfing hands and take your time and get back up when you can. It don't matter when you do, just that you do at all.

I dunno. I dunno if this helps, but I'm jus tryin to say that you're not alone and youse cared about nd also jesus christ my typing style help god please not the newsies the infection (/lh). Stay safe man. - Jack

fuckyou im sobbing now/lh

i just

i grew up being taught that showing any emotion besides Happy or Neutral is Bad!™️ so its really difficult for me to like

deal with anything? because i was taught to push feelings down and stick it out, and my parents have made it all worse by never showing emotion either. i didnt see my dad cry in front of me until i was fourteen, and the only time ive seen my mom cry was when i got a bad grade, so its all fun and games here. and my pa is literally bashitbonkersoutthewazzoo. like he's a conservative (we live in the south us for context so its even Worse!) and he taught me to shoot a gun at the ripe age of three! and theres a gun in every room and he's a. he reveres ben shapiro and jesse kelly and those guys, and i spent the entire quarantine listening to him talk abt how the election was faked and how covid was either fake or brought by the chinese (he couldnt decide) and hes severly racist!!! yippee!!/s so feelings arent a big thing in my house.

added onto the fact that i was raised christian? the first time i looked at a girl differently, or the first time i realized how uncomfortable i was jn my own body was horrifying to me. im atheist (ish? it's complicated) now so it doesnt matter to me, but i still have all that internalized crap abt liking her.

and i have severe pain in both of my knees like literally 24/7 and ive had it for YEAAARS but my ma didnt believe me until super recently and so i only just got an appointment with an orthopedic doctor! because the first general doctor told me i was faking it<3

and!!!!!!! the real fukcing kicker!!!! my parents have blatantly refused to pay for my education!!!!!!! like outright and several times!!!!!! only because i wanna get my bachelors in fine arts in theater!!!! they said it was a stupid degree and that i would get nowhere<3 so ive got that ahead of me too. and the last time i got a bad grade, i got grounded for two months. and it was a 79.5 on a minor quiz.

so we have fun here.

but i have all these plans!!! and dreams!!!! and places i want to go to and food i want to eat and languages i wanna learn!!! so i know that i'm not gonna off myself, but sometimes.

sometimes it seems reaaaally tempting.

but i really genuinely appreciate you, and riff, and toff, and dave, because you guys are so much nicer and more sympathetic than anyone i know irl.

so like.

love you/p <3