#but hey I have been less nauseous these last few days at least

[arlo-venn]

Now that marijuana is fully out of my system, the night terrors and getting trapped in nightmare loops for entire irl days at a time and the waking up kicking and screaming has returned! 🤠 And so far they’ve all been about the family that I am entirely estranged from for very good reasons 🤠 And my tics and waking seizures are making a come back! I’m having a lot of fun! 🤠

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hiyaa!! i LOVE!!! your poly!maraduers x reader fics. i was wondering if you could make a fic where the reader has had an absolute horrid week and just got their period and our sweet boys comfort us bc of how good boyfriends they are 🥹🙏

-🌻

thanks for requesting! I hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: period cramps/symptoms, hurt/comfort

1k words

Your eyes were pinched tightly as you clutched your stomach, easing and tightening your hold as the pain ebbed and flowed. You had been feeling crummy all week with no explanation until you were getting ready to take a shower last night and saw the red rorschach stains on your thighs. Thankfully, you hadn’t bled on anything, but you still took extra care to check everywhere you had been sitting. After your panic had subsided, the previous few days had made sense. There had been a grating brick in the bottom of your stomach and a slimy feeling you couldn’t scrub from your skin. Either in addition to or because of these physical feelings, you had been particularly fragile. Your boyfriends had noticed your state, but you never confessed your emotions since there was no clear source, at least, until now. 

You were curled into yourself on the couch, as if the more condensed you were the less pain you would feel. You were nauseous to the point of not being able to stomach pain medicine. You had showered last night but still felt disgustingly greasy. There was a book open on the arm of the couch that you had been pretending to read, but eventually had no energy to continue. Remus was in the armchair next to you with his own book, while James mindlessly flicked through the television channels and Sirius sat in front of the coffee table with an array of snacks before him. They were leaving you mostly alone, probably assuming you were trying to sleep. Another cramp fizzed through your body and you winced, a small whimper escaping. Nearly silent, but Remus’ sharp hearing picked it up. He looked at you, clearly expecting some kind of obvious injury. 

“What’s wrong, dovey?” He looked like he was in pain himself. Remus was all too familiar with pain, but the idea of any of his loved ones hurting was enough to cause instant panic within him. 

“Nothing, I’m fine-” You almost had the sentence out when another cramp hit, making you screw your face up and inhale sharply. Sirius spun around at your reaction. You curled in on yourself further, tensing your stomach. 

“What’s going on with you?” Sirius had his rare no-nonsense tone. When you didn’t give a response he tried to pry your arms away from your torso, but you whined and scooted away. 

“I said it’s nothing.” You wanted to snap but you sounded too pitiful to have your desired effect.

“Hey. I’m not fucking around.” Sirius kept trying to inspect you, his brain clearly already at the worst case scenario. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Pads, calm down.” James scolded before turning his attention to you. “Let us help you, sweetheart.” He coaxed. You huffed, abandoning your hopes of being modest. 

“It’s really nothing serious. Just some uh, cramping. From… you know.” You tried to smile. The boys confused, and then quickly relieved but they still didn’t go back for their previous activities like you hoped they would.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” Sirius slumped. “I thought you had fucking appendicitis or something.” 

“I think if I had appendicitis it would be a lot worse.”

“I don’t know, lovely girl.” Remus reached over both the arms of his chair and the couch to pet your head. “It looks like you’re hurting pretty badly.” He cooed a sad sound when you winced in pain again. 

“Have you taken anything?” James stood up, already heading to the bathroom medicine cabinet. 

“Not yet.” You said, feeling Remus’ wordless chiding. You could already hear what he wanted to say. ‘You have to get ahead of the pain, dovey.’ You took the pill bottle from James. 

“Have you eaten yet? You can’t take those on an empty stomach.” Remus reminded you. You sighed again, not from cramps this time. 

“No.” You said shamefully. Now you were being judged by the other two boys. 

“Baby,” James groaned, walking towards the kitchen now. Sirius was already shoving a package of mini muffins towards you. “Why?”

“My stomach hurt too much. I couldn’t get up.” You pouted, slowly chewing a muffin. 

“That was when you should’ve asked one of us.” Remus’ gentle bossy tone came out, the way it does when he’s feeling especially protective. 

“I would’ve been fine.” You reasoned. “I get this every month, it’s nothing out of the norm.” 

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt. Do you think it doesn’t hurt for Remus every month?” Sirius had a charcoal-drawn brow raised. 

“That’s different!” You floundered. “Of course it hurts for him.” You got instantly emotional. “I wasn’t saying that.” 

“Pads,” Remus huffed before turning back to you. “I know you weren’t. But you see the point. It still hurts for you.” 

“ And we still wanna look after you.” James appeared with a glass of water and a hot water bottle for your stomach. You took the medicine while he fixed the heat over your abdomen. When he was done he leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled. 

“Don’t thank me, darling.” He said, stroking your hair from your face. You jumped again when Sirius climbed on top of you without warning. 

“Siri! What are you doing?” You squealed as he settled his face into your neck.

“Lovin’ on you.” He said as it was the obvious answer.

“I’m disgusting right now.” You groaned, pushing his shoulders to shove him off. He just dead weighted and pulled you in closer. 

“Not possible, you’re mine.” He argued. James scoffed. 

“Oi! Not just yours!” James shoved Sirius away so he could kiss all over your scrunched face. You all but shrieked before he stopped, turning his attention to the TV remote. Sirius turned the two of you so you were on your sides, your back to his front facing the television. His hand was holding the hot water bottle to your stomach. Remus closed his book and laid on his side. His tall frame was folded in a way that was probably aching, but he still held it. He settled his head on the arm of his chair, nearly touching yours and Sirius’. 

“Are you feeling better, sweet thing?” Sirius asked quietly. 

“I do. Thank you.” You sounded awfully sleepy. 

“Wow. You two just shamelessly took advantage of the situation to turn us into the napping house.” James was trying to sound scolding but it just came out as affection. 

“It’s called being supportive, Prongs.” Sirius sassed, but you and Remus were already out. 

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2023

No. 12 Insomnia | No. 29 Panic | No. 31 “Take it easy.”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Prison Era

Warnings: Hallucinations

“Can’ sleep again?” Daryl drawled, voice rougher than usual with sleep. He lifted his head from the pillow when he felt the mattress dip with your weight. You shook your head, not meeting his eyes. “S’been days, Y/N. Yer startin’ ta look like a walker.”

“You say the nicest things, Dixon.” You got up and stumbled over to the railing of his perch, looking out over the darkness of the cell block. Your body ached. Your head was fuzzy. You felt nauseous and short tempered. But sleep wouldn’t come. No matter how hard you tried. You could only see the faces of the ones you’d lost. Amy. Jim. Dale. Andrea. Shane. Lori. T-Dog. ‘I couldn’t save any of them.’

“Ya can’ keep holdin’ on ta all tha’.” 

You quickly looked at him over your shoulder. ‘Was I talking out loud?’

“Yeah, ya were.”

“Shit.” You scrubbed a hand roughly over your face. You really were losing it. Daryl was sitting up now, his knees bent under the thin blanket with his forearms lying over them. He looked genuinely concerned. “I don’t wanna be in this world anymore.” You admitted quietly. “I’m scared to be awake. I’m scared to sleep.” Your lip began to tremble, your body too depleted to fight off the sting of tears threatening to fall. “I’m so tired.”

The archer observed you quietly, his expression unreadable. You weren’t sure why you came to him. You weren’t even sure where things stood with him. There had been gentle touches and whispered words, even a few kisses shared in secret, but most days, he just remained impassive and gruff. 

“I should let you get some sleep. I’m sorry I bothered you.” Your feet carried you quickly down the stairs, stumbling over the last step in your haste. 

The shower area was dark but the small windows let in just enough moonlight for you to at least see where you were going. Maybe you could just hide away there until morning. Your cell was too small, the terror and memories smothering you. The rest of the prison was inhabited by your small group and a few strangers. People you’d rather not give any reason to worry about you or your usefulness. You had already allowed Daryl to see too much. 

“He doesn’t feel that way about you, you know.” 

You spun around toward the voice to find the space behind you empty. You could have sworn—

“He doesn’t feel that way about anyone. Daryl is selfish.”

“Lori?” You whispered, spinning around again. And again you were met with no one. 

“You’re just a silly little girl. You’re not helping anyone. You never have, never could.”

“Dale?” You whimpered, the name barely leaving your lips before you heard Andrea just by your ear. 

“At least I was useful! You’re just a burden! They’ll be better off without you!”

“I’m trying! I just—”

“Try harder! Hell, you really wanna help, just go out past the fence and let the walkers take care of you.”

“One less mouth to feed, one less burden.”

“Shane, T… I’m doing my—” 

“Your best?” You heard Lori laugh mockingly as your back met the cold tile of one of the shower stalls, sliding down until you were on the floor. “Your best is pathetic.”

“Pathetic!”

“Pathetic!”

“Pathetic!”

Your hands flew to your ears, the word echoing in a flurry of voices and laughter. Your sobs grew louder, your eyes squeezed shut, and your back met the wall over and over as you rocked on the floor to try and get control over yourself. When you felt their hands on your arms, you screamed and flailed. They were gonna to take you to the walkers. They were going to laugh as you were ripped apart. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Easy.” 

The voices stopped suddenly and you pulled away, flattening yourself against the wall. Your eyes opened to find the space in front of you empty save for a concerned pair of electric blue eyes, the moonlight making them almost gray. 

“Take it easy.” Daryl’s tone was soft, his hold on your forearms was firm yet gentle in the most confusing way. 

“Daryl?” Your voice came out as nothing more than a small squeak being forced past the lump in your throat. 

“S’jus’ me.” When you threw yourself into his arms, he made no move to pull away. He simply remained crouched there, one arm around your shoulders, keeping you grounded for the moment. “Wha’ was tha’ all ‘bout?” He pulled back a little but you chased the feeling of protection he was offering, whether it was intentional or not. You didn’t answer him, but given the way he sighed, you thought he may have already known. “Okay.” He finally muttered and you thought he was going to move away and leave you there. 

He hoisted you up into his arms instead, backing out of the stall and then leaving the showers all together. You thought you could still hear whispers as the door closed behind you, your face instinctively burrowing further into his collarbone. 

“Is she okay?” Carol’s voice was full of concern, a small gentle touch brushing over the center of your back as Daryl kept walking. 

“She’s fine. Jus’ needs ta sleep.” He answered roughly. You were jostled slightly as he began to ascend the steps to your cell. You didn’t want to go there, not now that you had awakened everyone and proven those voices right. 

You were a burden. 

You sniffled and waited for him to deposit you and leave. Your back met the mattress slowly, gently, and the blanket was pulled over you a second later. But instead of the bottom of the top bunk, you saw the high ceiling of the cell block when you opened your eyes. 

You weren’t in your cell. 

“Daryl?” You questioned meekly, turning your head just as the blanket lifted once more and the archer crawled under it at your side. 

You were in his bed. 

“What’re you—” You blinked wide eyes at his chest when you were unexpectedly pulled tightly against him, his chin resting on the top of your head. 

“Try ta sleep now.” 

Your surprise dissolved into something else, walking the fine line between gratitude and guilt. You nodded minutely, wiping your eyes as best you could given the proximity. 

“Quit yer wigglin’.” 

“Sorry.” You muttered, sniffling again before you closed your eyes. You could actually feel the lure of sleep pulling heavily at your subconscious, your mind already growing blank and your eyelids too heavy to open. You felt safe and warm and right. You’d have to talk to him about what happened but that was a problem for tomorrow. “Daryl?” You mumbled, almost slurring the syllables. 

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.” 

His eyes opened, staring at the darkness over your head while the tension left your body and your breaths deepened, soft snores already puffing out against his skin. The archer pulled you a little closer. 

“Don’ ever hafta thank me, Y/N. I gotcha.”

[maria-tries-to-write]

Being betrothed to Daemon Targaryen would include:

A/N: my first headcanon! I don’t think it’s my best work, but hey, at lest I’m trying! I got a little carried away with this, but nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it!

SUMMARY: A little (big, to be honest) glimpse of your relationship with Daemon at the beginnings of your marriage.

WR: f!reader, mentions of death, murder and sex work, bad words, Daemon being a dick, misogyny, arranged marriage, toxic relationship.

WORDS: +1.8k

Him hating you at first sight.

After Rhea Royce’s death, Viserys feared that Daemon would try to stop Rhaenyra and Leanor’s marriage, so he betrothed his own brother to you, the oldest daughter of a Lord from far north Westeros.

With the prince far away from King’s Landing, everything went smoothly, and to say Daemon was pissed would be an understatement.

Unfortunately, you’ve become the object of his frustration: he even thought of getting rid of you, but held back; two wives dead on a short period of time would rise a lot of unwanted attention, and a politic conflict with House Royce would be a pain in the ass.

So, he contented himself by treating you the same way he treated Rhea Royce: in the worst way possible.

He couldn’t bear stay in the same room as you, never failing to leave the moment you come.

He didn’t even look at your way, and when it accidentally happened, he would make the most disgusted face ever, as if even staring at you made him nauseous.

His childish behavior lasted until the day of your wedding.

At the end of the party, Daemon didn’t hesitate to go straight to a brothel with the few soldiers from the City Watch that were able to follow him, and didn’t show up until three days later.

On the third day, he showed up, drunk, in the middle of the night, along with two prostitutes that later he brought to his bed chambers, not before giving you his usual disdain look.

Enough was enough; you stormed in on his room, spotting them naked on his bed, the bed that should be shared with you, his wife, and instead, he was sharing it the first women he found on a pleasure house, as if you were less than a whore to him.

You took the bucket with freezing water that you asked to your handmaiden to prepare earlier, and threw it at them; the girls shirked with the shock, and Daemon was ready to insult you, but he was too astonished to cuss when you started to yell:

“YOU TWO, GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE!” the poor girls, completely terrified, scrambled theirselves, getting their clothes on while trying to fight the pinching on their skin due to the cold weather.

When they were finally out of sight, you turned to your petrified husband, if you could even call him a “husband”, and pointed at him:

“We are not having this conversation right now, it’s late and you’re drunk. So you’ll listen to me very well, because I won’t say it twice: you are going to sleep and tomorrow, first thing in the morning, we’ll talk about what happened here, do you understand me?”

Daemon couldn’t make out the words on his head, probably because of the alcohol on his system, all he could do was open and close his mouth repeatedly, which riled you up even more:

“FOR THE GODS SAKE, DAEMON! I DESERVE AT LEAST A RESPONSE!” you sighed deeply, throwing your hands in the air “You know what? I don’t care, just go to sleep.”

That night, the Rouge Prince went to bed like a child who had been scolded.

The next day, you made sure that Daemon wouldn’t try to skip on your conversation, so you asked for the maids to prepare the prince’s breakfast on a tray so you could bring it upstairs.

You weren’t shocked to see he was still sleeping: after all, he was completely drunk last night. Unceremoniously, you opened the curtains, immediately making Daemon grunt on his sleep. Getting enough of his slowness, you ripped the blankets off of him, finally managing to make him wake up.

Letting him eat a little bit of his meal first, you waited patiently by edge of the bed, sited with your hands on your lap. After a long time, you decided to initiate the conversation.

“I don’t care if you like me, love me or even desire me. Believe me, I couldn’t care less. But what you did last night was extremely disrespectful. Wether you want it or not, I’m still your wife. Do you really think I’m happy? Being married to you? No, I’m not! But I’ve never even once though to take my anger on you. You’re angry, I understand, really, but it’s not my fault if you’re in this situation. I didn’t had a say on it as much as you did! It’s unfair of you to treat me like that when I’m not even the one at fault!”

Daemon thought about your words silently, still munching on his breakfast. Indeed, bickering with you was a waste of time; also, it didn’t make his frustration go away, quite the contrary: every time it made him remember of Rhaenerya and how much he longed for her touch, attention and presence, which made him even more bitter.

However, Daemon Targaryen would never admit he was wrong, at least for now. So, he proposed a truce: both of you would bear each other’s presence, with no more bickering and no more tries to slay each other’s throat.

You left his bedroom quite satisfied; it wasn’t the perfect agreement, but making Daemon Targaryen, The Rouge Prince, know for his stubbornness, shutting his mouth and listening to you AND making an agreement? It sounded pretty much like a victory.

After the incident, Daemon wouldn’t lie that he was impressed by your attitude: most of women would simply turn around to his doings or they’d be so scared to confront him that barely a word would pass trough their lips.

However, you were different: you not only went against him but also threw freezing water on him! Do you know how many could live after that? There’s little a person can do to impress the prince, but showing him that your not afraid to impose yourself definitely makes him hats off to you.

Suddenly, he started to initiate conversations with you. Obviously, he didn’t go on a full dialogue with you, more like small talk, but still, it was a big progress.

One night, you found your husband sitting by the fire on your library, frowning deeply. You couldn’t help but stare at how his silver hair glowed with the fire’s light and how it’s glow sparkled his tired lilac eyes; suddenly sensing your presence, Daemon caught you observing him, which made you break out of your trance.

Trying to cover your embarrassment, with a soft tone, you asked what was bothering him; having no longer patience to act kindly, Daemon brushed you off, stating that “a spoiled brat like you could never be of help.”

“You’d be surprised. Try me.”

Daemon glanced at you, perplexed. Then, he laughed with disdain, sipping on his wine.

“Royce House is asking for an indemnity for Rhea Royce’s death. I’m her legal heir, so House Royce has nothing but their useless name. They require an absurd amount of money that even I couldn’t pay. And even if I could, I’d refuse to spend my money with the family of that bronze bitch.”

The Rouge Prince finished his cup before glancing at his wife; she brought her hands under her chin with a concentrated look. Not longer than a minute, she came up with an ideia:

“If you want them do give up on the indemnity, you should offer them something better than money.”

The prince scoffed “And that would be?”

“A marriage. After you, Rhea’s nephew shall inherit the Vale, right? But, our child will inherit both the Vale and my lands, plus the Targaryen name. There’s no way they’d refuse a betroth with such advantages.”

“That would be the perfect plan, if we had a daughter, my dear wife” “That’s exactly the point.”

Daemon turned to look straight at his wife’s eyes, astonished. “They don’t know we’ve never consummate our marriage, so they’d not have any other option than wait for the birth of our daughter. That way, you—” “Could keep the money and get them off of my ass.”

Neither of you noticed how suddenly the distance between you faded; Now, you’re staring at each other’s eyes while Daemon has a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“So, a brat like me can, in fact, be of help” you said smugly.

“How can you do that?” he asked on a whisper “do what?” you asked back, the words barely audible.

“Surprise me more and more. Every time I think I’ve finally discover every single part of you, you prove me wrong once again. I must say I like that” Daemon confessed, laughing breathlessly.

“Well, it’s not as if you ever tried to know me, but I must confess that I enjoy getting to know you too.”

He suddenly went silent, so you got worried that you messed up, but the Prince was quick to brush it off “It is useless to say ‘sorry’ when you’re right. I’ve always tried my best to be the worst husband for you, and for that I’m sorry. I was frustrated back than with something that wasn’t your fault, and even so, I took my frustrations on you.”

You were very touched by his words; obviously, you didn’t forgave him out of the blue for every single humiliation he made you pass through, but to know that he acknowledged his mistakes made you hope that someday you could live a healthy relationship.

“Daemon, I’m glad that you—“ “Please, if I don’t say it now, I don’t know if I will ever again” he begged, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

He slid his hands down your arms, finally reaching your smaller hands, which he covered with his bigger ones. His palms were calloused, but still held warmth and a tenderness that you caught yourself enjoying.

Lastly, the prince looked straight into your eyes “I know you’re still hurt by my actions, but I want to let you know that I want to make this marriage work. The last few weeks were the greatest days since a long time, and I finally realized they were because of you. You fascinate me, and I want to keep learning about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, you could no longer breath. You felt like your heart were going to jump out of your chest, but still then, you replied “I want to get to know you too, Daemon.”

BONUS:

“Now that we’re good, it was kinda hot when you yelled at me”

You looked at him, shocked “For the Gods sake, Daemon, shut up!”

“Yes mommy” “DAEMON!”

[dudadragneel]

Hello guys! It's me!

How are you doing?

AFTER HALF A CENTURY...IM BACK WITH ANOTHER SICKFIC!

Now, this one was supposed to be a little drabble but I got a little carried away...

Anyways, enjoy!

Thinking about Hyunjin who has a really bad stomachache and he’s been crying on and off all day and can barely eat anything but once he feels a bit better he goes with reader to the library while she study’s in silence and he just kinda tries to distract himself with reading, but then he starts feeling nauseous and can’t really talk because yk you gotta be QUIET in a library. So he has to text her to tell her he feels like he’s going to vomit but she’s not quite getting the hint that he wants to leave so he has to be really blunt with her 😭. THEN she takes him outside and he just dry heaves, then she gives him water and he just throws up the water. but when they get in the car…oh that’s a WHOLE new situation and mess.

LIBRARY DATE

While you were on your midterms, Hyunjin was in a well-deserved rest period. However,  the poor boy's body was feeling the toll from the last promotion. His immune system wasn't doing that great and he ate something that didn't sit well with his stomach.

He woke up with a really bad stomach ache, it was a sharp pain around his middle, especially sharp in the pit of his stomach. The pain was so strong he actually started crying at some point.

- babe, it hurts!

- oh baby. I know it does. I gave you medicine, it will take some time for it to work. Do you want to eat some light soup? Or maybe a fruit?

- no...it feels horrible...I feel like I've eaten enough for the week.

- but you didn't eat anything. Not since last night.

-I know....but I just can't, it's hurting too much.

- oh Hyune...do you want me to rub your belly?

- yes...

You sat next to him at the edge of the bed where he was lying down and proceeded to rub his belly. He felt comfortable with your touch and closed his eyes to try and rest. In a few minutes, he managed to fall asleep.

You let him rest while you finished doing your chores at the house and prepared something light for him to eat in case he woke up feeling a little better.

A few hours later, he woke up feeling a little better, the pain was barely there and he was actually feeling a bit hungry.

You had prepared some light snacks for him, as you thought that would sit better than soup.

- Hey sleepyhead.

- Hey babe.

He said going towards you like a little kid for a hug.

You hugged him as he buried his face on your shoulders and spoke softly.

- Are you feeling better?

- Yeah...a little....

- Do you want to eat something?

- Yeah...

- Come on.

You said as you grabbed his hand and walked to the table. You served him the snacks you were preparing before in hopes he'd be able to get at least a little bite in.

- You don't have to eat everything. Just pick what you think your stomach will agree with.

- Woah! Thank you, honey.

You just smiled as you sat in front of him while he ate. You kept scrolling through your phone and chatting with him.

- Hyune

- Hm?

- I'm thinking about going to the library to study later. Are you gonna be ok alone?

- Can I accompany you?

- are you sure? Are you feeling better?

- Yeah. I think going out of the house might help me feel less stressed.

- Okay then. Why don't you finish eating and while you digest your food, I'll take a shower and get ready?

- ok!

He did as you told him, he sat on the couch and patiently waited while you showered and gathered your stuff.

The local library wasn't that big but it was beautiful and cozy and definitely helped you feel more concentrated to study.

You found a free table, sat down, and organized your things, you put on your earphones to help you concentrate more. Hyunjin just sat in front of you, completely in love seeing you so focused. He loved seeing how passionate you were about the things you did, even if it was just sitting down and studying.

He couldn't really keep on using his phone so he decided to look for a book about art to read while you studied.

At first, he was entertained, almost like a toddler, he managed to learn about some other painting techniques and he was happy that this outing turned out to be productive for him as well.

But then things started to go south. As he was reading, the stomachache from earlier was starting to turn into full nausea.

And unfortunate to him because, ironically, he picked a book that had tons of Van Gogh's paintings in it, and all that swirling werent helping at all.

He brought a hand to his stomach and gently pressed on it because even though he felt nauseous, the pain from earlier was still lingering around.

He tried to stay focused on the book but the more he tried to read or look at the pictures the more his stomach twisted. He placed the book on the table, closed his eyes took and deep breath in, and exhaled, trying to keep the nausea at bay.

He kept bringing his hand to his stomach and fidgeting on the chair, most to catch your attention, but you were basically in another dimension of full focus, and he didn't really want to use his phone and risk feeling even worse.

But the nausea was growing stronger, so he had no other option. He got his phone and texted you, but the contents of the message weren't shown so you just shrugged it off as him trying to distract you.

He sent a few more texts, but you didn't even bother looking up, part of you wanted to show him that you could stay focused even when he incorporated a toddler to annoy you. But little did you know the distress he was in.

He set down his phone and lay his head on his arms, but the nausea was reaching its peak. He could feel the little he had eaten earlier sloshing around and his mouth started pooling with saliva. He started to swallow convulsively but things just weren't working.

He felt something rushing up his chest and a foul taste in his mouth, he was gonna throw up and there was nothing more he could do to avoid it. And you still hadn't read his texts. He didn't want to talk, first because you were in a library and it was really quiet, and second because he was afraid that if he opened his mouth he'd throw up right then and there, but he had no other choice. He needed to get out of there.

He abruptly put down your book and if you weren't in a library, you would've yelled at him.

You looked straight at him but before you could even get angry, he took his only chance.

- I'm gonna throw up.

He said as quietly as possible but still urgent. Apparently, just admitting that he was gonna be sick, made his stomach contract and he was quick to cover his mouth to surpass a gag.

- Shit.

You said standing up and getting to his side. You just grabbed his arm and wrapped your arm around him as you guided him out, his body already bending over as his stomach contracted again.

Unfortunately for him, some people noticed the sudden commotion.

For some reason, the bathroom wasn't near the room you were in, so you just took him outside in the yard.

He bent over, hands on his knees for support while you kept on holding his arm and rubbing his back.

He spat out the thick saliva that had filled his mouth as you two were walking out of the room.

He felt awful, saliva kept filling his mouth over and over again and he just kept spitting it out. But the nausea was still there and it was strong.

He tried straightening his back for a bit to see if he would feel any different, but it just made his stomach flip again.

He bent over one more time and began gagging again, you could feel him tensing up under your touch with every gag but nothing but saliva came out. You felt horrible and could only hope people would just pass by and not notice him.

- Hyune? May I try something?

He just nodded. You massaged his stomach with a bit of pressure to see if you could stimulate it somehow to help him get whatever was making him feel bad out. But it didn't work, he just kept dry heaving.

- I-I feel awful...my stomach is churning and flipping but nothing is coming up...

- Oh baby...Why don't you try drinking some water? Maybe trying to get something in will help you throw up. Don't take small sips, just try to drink as you normally would.

You handed him your bottle of water and he drank it just as you said.

He drank almost half a bottle and he could feel his stomach revolting inside him. He bent over again and gagged a few times before his stomach contracted a little more and brought up all the water he had just drank but nothing else.

You kept rubbing his back as he proceeded to throw up water and thick saliva. In a few minutes, he was left dry heaving again. You gave him some water to rinse his mouth and then wiped it.

- Babe? Why don't we sit down for a bit?

- Hmm...

You guided him to a nearby tree and helped him sit down.

- How are you feeling?

- Sick...

- Okay. Let's go home. I'll go grab our stuff.

- I'm sorry...I'm sorry for interrupting your study...

- Don't apologize...I should be the one apologizing for not noticing sooner... Just wait here, I'll be right back.

He lay his back on the tree and tilted his head back with his eyes closed. He took deep breaths and tried to pay attention to his breathing or the sound of the leaves rustling with the wind, anything that could distract him from nausea in his stomach.

You grabbed your stuff and apologized for the sudden commotion and left to get the sick boy waiting by the tree.

- Come on, let's go. Can you stand?

- Can you help me?

- Of course.

You positioned your arms beneath his while he held you for support, and helped him to his feet. You stood like that for a while, with a firm grip on him, to make sure he wasn't feeling faint before heading to the car.

- Do you prefer to roll down your window or the AC?

- The AC...I'm afraid that any smell will enter the car if the windows are open.

- Okay. Babe, tell me if you feel like throwing up, okay? So I can at least try to pull over.

- Okay.

The first 30 minutes of the ride were okay. He kept his eyes closed while you held his hand, thank God for automatic cars. You kept quiet the whole time because you didn't want to overwhelm him.

But then, the worst happened. Traffic. For some reason, traffic stopped. And you felt desperate because you wanted to get home fast, so Hyunjin could rest.

- Shit! There must've been an accident or the traffic lights are broken...you okay?

He just nodded and closed his eyes again. You knew he wasn't okay, he was far from being okay. Traffic felt like it was moving one centimeter at a time.

He was okay at first because the car wasn't moving but the realization that he'd be stuck in a car for god knows how long while feeling sick made everything worse.

The nausea which was somewhat controlled, increased ten times. He squeezed his eyes and let out a shaky sigh while his hands gripped his thighs and the door handle with such force his knuckles turned white. He tried taking deep breaths but the sudden movement of the car made his stomach jolt. He felt something coming up his throat and started to swallow convulsively. There's no chance in hell he was gonna throw up inside the car, he had already ruined your study day and now he was going to soil your car with vomit? No chance.

You were too focused on the road, trying to understand what was causing the traffic jam, so you didn't notice him fidgeting by your side.

He managed to swallow it back but it was a useless effort. As soon as it went down it shot back up, hot foul tasting liquid hitting the back of his throat. He gagged and quickly brought his hands to his mouth, fearing the worst.

The gag snapped you back into the reality of the car.

- Hyune? You okay?

He barely made eye contact with you when his stomach jolted one more time, making him gag once more. But this time, vomit gushed out, slipping through his fingers, and soiling both him and your car.

- Oh my god! Hyune!

His stomach didn't give him time to think before contracting again and sending even more pale vomit up, once again escaping through his fingers.

You were shocked with the situation unfolding before your eyes so it took a few seconds for you to react.

You quickly reached for the glove box and found a little towel you always kept with you, considering how he had gotten sick in the car before.

- Oh babe! Don't worry.

You placed it on his lap and told him to open his hands and let the vomit fall on the towel, while you drove a little more. Once you stopped again, you looked for a plastic bag inside your stuff so that Hyunjin could throw up everything making him feel bad.

- Here. Use this.

- S-sorry...I'm s-sorry...

- Don't apologize. It's not your fault you're sick.

He closed his eyes as he gagged again, this time inside the bag, liquid coming out and hitting the back making a sickening sound. You could only rub his back and mutter some words while you drove.

- Oh baby, just let everything out.

He burped another wave, followed by another one making him bend forward a little and you could feel him tensing up under your hand.

- Just get everything out.

He gagged a few times until he threw up again, vomit mixing with the liquid inside the bag. The car was starting to smell and you both wanted to get out of there.

Thankfully, the traffic jam stopped and you as fast as you legally could to get home.

Arriving there, you went straight to Hyunjin's door to help him.

- Here. Let me get rid of this.

You threw away the bag filled with vomit and turned your full attention to him, who was sitting inside the car facing you.

- We're home, baby. Let's go. Can you stand?

- I don't kno-

He was cut off by a sudden gag that sent up more vomit making him bend forward and you barely escaped from soiling your shoes. You shifted to his side and rubbed his back as he vomited again.

- Here. Rinse your mouth and let's go up. You need to take a shower.

He rinsed his mouth and you helped him up, wrapping your hands around him and carefully heading to the elevator.

Arriving home, you went directly to the bathroom with Hyunjin. You helped him out of his soiled clothes and tossed them in the dirty laundry basket.

- You don't need to stay here...

- Hyune, we've been dating for quite some time now...you don't need to be embarrassed. I just don't want to risk you fainting in the shower. But I'll turn around if that will make you feel more comfortable.

- Thank you...sorry...

- it's okay, honey.

Thankfully the shower ended without any accidents, despite him dry heaving over the rain for a brief moment.

You helped him change clothes and then got the bed ready for him to sleep.

You embraced him in a tight hug and kissed the top of his head. And that was the last straw. He started to cry and sob and buried his face in your shoulder.

- Honey? Baby? Why are you crying?

You said with a cute voice and almost crying yourself.

- I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...

- it's okay, baby! Stop apologizing.

- but...I ruined your day...you couldn't study because of me, your car is completely dirty...I'm sorry

He said breaking down even more.

- Oh baby! There's nothing to apologize for. You were sick! It's not your fault! You didn't ruin my day! Stop worrying about that! Hyune, I love you! I'd never, not once, think that you ruined my day.

You said as you cupped his face in your hands and wiped his tears away.

- promise me you'll stop feeling guilty about it.

- I- I promise...

He said pouting. You kissed him and then embraced him again as you two lay in bed.

- How are you feeling?

- Still a little nauseous...

- Wait here a little bit, let me grab a bucket just in case.

You grabbed the bucket at light speed and went back to bed. You cuddled him and started rubbing his belly. He sunk under your touch and within minutes, the poor tired boy was fast asleep.

You changed your approach and kept stroking his hair until you fell asleep as well.

The night went on without any other incidents, the poor boy had his energy completely drained after everything that happened and you couldn't be more grateful that he managed to sleep like a rock until midday.

[cyberneticlagomorph]

You sit in a tavern in a much less populated server, nursing a little wooden ale mug full of warm milk.

Apparently sugar gets toys drunk in Ursumbra, so all the bars here are like this.

You'd prefer to have a clear head to think about your situation with, but the drink was free so you acquiesced. 

A kid, who had to be no more than 14, blew all his Marbles buying everybody drinks to celebrate the fact that "Hey, at least I don't have to go to school tomorrow!"

It makes you nauseous to think about but nobody likes a downer so you just blow bubbles into your milk and kick your little feet as Eddie and Nick talk like proper adults around you. 

It's not something you really have to pay attention to yet, just a recap of what they understand to be going on. 

Something is wrong with Ursumbra Online, a MMORPG based on a cult classic RPGmaker horror game that came out a number of years ago.

Players are getting sick and disappearing. 

So are kids with no noticeable ties to the game at all. 

But now, everybody who went missing is stuck in the game somehow and can't leave.

It's like there's nowhere to leave TO exactly. 

However there are still plenty of other players who can log out just fine, so the game's admin team put out a mass warning telling anybody who can leave to do so asap and to stay out until further notice. 

Of course Eddie and Nick didn't listen to them, or you really, and logged in to check on you and keep you company. 

It should bring you comfort, but for some reason it doesn't. 

They don't know you. 

Why are they wasting their time with you?

Trying to make sure you're OK.

It doesn't add up.

Eddie says something to you that you don't catch.

"Huh?" Your ears flick forward to show that you're actually paying attention this time. 

"I asked if the milk was good." Her smile is soft, worried, sympathetic maybe. 

"Yeah it's fine." You take another sip, it's lukewarm now but that's OK.

Eating in VR is always really tricky, flavors and scents are hard to replicate with just code so some people use stock brain scans instead and no two scans are exactly the same so you gotta get lucky and hope whoever made the scan really enjoys milk or doesn't have the cilantro soap gene or whatever.

The milk tastes like milk and that's the only good thing that's happened today so you're gonna cling to that tiny victory like a lifeline.

You feel like a child who's lost his mom in the grocery store. 

That specific flavor of panic and abandonment and all these other nameless emotions welling up inside you until it presses against the backs of your eyes and makes you want to cry.

You want to go home and curl up somewhere small and wait until this is all over but you can't. 

You need to get a message to the outside somehow.

The tavern's front double doors slam open, making everybody jump in their seats as a player clings breathlessly to the frame. 

"Guys! Holy SHIT!" He yells in between gasps. There's a moment of anticipation as he slides to the ground, wheezing and fanning himself as he points back the way he came and tries to explain what's going on between wheezes. 

Apparently a pack of half-feral modders has finally figured out how to contact the outside without having to rely on friends tabbing in and out to relay messages.

"That was fast…" mutters the bartender/server owner, a grumpy black and rainbow striped zebra unicorn by the name of TigerHorse. 

Someone buys the messenger a drink for his trouble and everybody else rushes out of the server. 

You and your friends stay behind for a bit.

This all feels too convenient.

TigerHorse lights a chocolate cigar with his horn and blows a stream of sweet smelling bubbles in your direction, expression enigmatic. 

"I'm gonna log out here in a bit, so you best be heading out soon." He drawls, taking another drag of his cigar.

Player run shops like this have really been picking up the slack these last few hellish days. 

Streamers, and forum runners, guide writers, private server mods.

The entire community was coming together and trying to find order in the chaos. 

You down the last gulp of your milk and return the mug to TigerHorse as Eddie and Nick pack up behind you.

The second you,  your friends and the messenger are back in the weird server select room, the door to TigerHorse's tavern slams shut and a huge lock appears making it clear that the establishment is now closed. 

It doesn't take you long to find where the modders are.

They've commandeered (read: hacked) an old dev server for their purposes and are doing their best to get everybody seen and taken care of.

The moment you walk in, a goody bag appears in your inventory containing a smartphone, a laptop, and a user manual. 

It's all ugly and barebones but it's functional and that's all you really need. 

Ursumbra has always had built-in Twitter and Facebook functionality with optional Twitch overlays and a bunch of other social media shit you don't really care about so it wasn't exactly hard to condense all of that into a basic cell phone. 

It even has snake as a mini game and your in-game friends list instead of contacts.

You hear some girl next to you say something about how her next cozmod is gonna be making these phones less ugly. 

You feel like she's got her priorities a bit skewed but it really does look like the phones were just pasted into the game.

Bad to see. 

The modders kick you from the server once they've gotten you all set up, and are sure you know what you're doing.

Lots of people to see, lots of devices to calibrate.

They can't have people just hanging around, taking up necessary space someone else could be using. 

You understand. 

For a while, it feels too good to be true and you spend what feels like hours staring at the tumblr app on the little screen in your paw.

It's like you're waiting for the phone to bite you or dissolve or turn out to be a trick but no matter how hard you stare at it… it's just a phone. 

You take a deep breath and log in and make a single post. 

[solomonish]

Way To Go MC, You’ve Allowed Yourself to be Poisoned (Demon Brothers)

CW for: descriptions of food and eating, brief descriptions of choking-like symptoms. (mainly in the intro, though the individual stories mention coughing, (light) blood and fainting). there will be talk of food and keeping an eye on what is being eaten in the individual character stories as well.

Ahh thank you nonnie! I got tired and stopped at the demon brothers but I’ll finish the nowdateables later if you want! Which let’s be real, I’ll probably do soon because I wanna write for Solomon lol

I hope you like it!

---

It started off like any other night, with you grabbing a seat at the dinner table as the last of the food was placed in the middle. Someone beside you took your plate and gave you your portion for you, smiling at your murmur of thanks as they set it down. You waited until the last person, Levi, sat down, smiling at him as he muttered something about finishing a level to nobody in particular. 

The moment you ate your first bite of food, something felt...off. Your tongue was tingling the slightest bit and you swore you could feel an uncomfortable heat follow the food as it slid down your throat. Thinking it was just a weird Devildom spice - after all, you’ve been here for how long? and nothing has happened yet? - you take another bite and immediately regret it.

Though such a food was no big deal for demons, it was powerful enough to knock you out of your chair and hunch over, grabbing your stomach as you cough forcefully in a desperate attempt to get the food out. Your insides were burning, your airways closing in and your chest crying out in pain the more you coughed. Soon enough, tears clouded your vision, and though you could hear the chaos around you, the only thing you could focus on was what felt like fire burning you from the inside out.

When you start coughing:

The moment you let out a little cough, his eyes are on you curiously. It’s just a remnant of the days when you were still so new to it all: the fragile little human makes a strange noise, be prepared to save a life.

He almost let his eyes fall from you, but he noticed that you weren’t stopping. It wasn’t the first time you had caused a scene at dinner, saying something afterwards about it “going down the wrong tube.” Still, this seemed...different.

When you fall off of your chair, he’s out of his before you even hit the ground. He’s kneeling by your side a second later, trying to tilt your head towards him so he can fully understand what is happening.

He finally realizes that you aren’t just choking and this is much more urgent when the blood starts coming out of your mouth.

He takes his attention away from you for a moment to ask who cooked dinner, and the brothers promptly rat out Mammon.

Though Lucifer is clearly agitated at that, he decides to lecture later and instead ask what Mammon put in the dish. Everyone erupts at once about halfway through because “How could you have forgotten what that will do to a human??”

That’s the last thing you remember for yourself - whether from the poison itself or being unable to breath through all your coughing, you passed out fairly quickly afterwards

Taking care of you afterwards:

Lucifer isn’t the type to panic in the moment. He’s very accustomed to taking the lead and having everything under control.

That’s in the moment, though. When he has Satan mix up the remedial potion, he’s fine, checking over you and keeping his brothers a safe distance away while he makes sure you’re still breathing. Once you’re safely in bed, brothers having been banned from your room until at least morning, and he’s the only one left lingering in the doorway, that’s when it all begins to set in.

There’s less regret and more general uncertainty in these moments - it starts with him wondering if he should really leave you alone, and soon enough it spirals into him reminding himself just how careful he needs to be with you in the Devildom. (And really, after taking charge of seven demon lords on accident, isn’t it just like you to get killed by a spicy leaf? Honestly, he should’ve known better.)

Once you finally do wake up, he tries to act like his normal “down to business” self - “I’ve told my brothers they are not to overwhelm you today, though we both know how that will go. I’ve made Leviathan figure out what bland foods are safe for humans, you’ll have to take it easy for now as your stomach is still irritated. Let me know immediately if you feel woozy or nauseous for any reason-” He prattles on and on, and though you’ve stopped paying attention you can still feel the softness in his tone

He tries to be gentle with you, and you have to remind him that you were just poisoned, not bedridden for months. Sometimes he’ll shoot you a glare and try to justify himself by saying it’s just like you to make another foolish mistake, but others he just won’t say anything and will keep the hand he has placed on your lower back “for safety”

Firmly believes in establishing as many preventative measures to keep this from happening again, so the next few weeks are going to be....a lot.

Sets up an alarm so he can remind you every lunch not to pick any of the “not safe for humans” options. Probably also gets you a seat in a class that goes over poisonous plants in the Devildom. 

Do not try to skip this. It’s easier for everyone if you just let him ease his mind how he likes.

When you start coughing:

At first, Mammon assumes that you just heard the joke he made and (naturally) started laughing so hard your weird little human body couldn’t take it

So essentially, you start choking and he starts laughing at you thinking you’re laughing together

That all stops the moment you fall out of your chair and double over, suddenly dry heaving on the floor.

He sort of short-circuits for a second, not entirely sure what to do until one of the more knowledgeable brothers stoops down beside you

They tell him to just keep your airways clear and make sure you’re still breathing while they go to get the elixir they need, and he does. It’s one of the few times they see him so serious - he just doesn’t want to mess up, so he doesn’t focus on any of their comments or bite back

(”Gee, Mammon’s actually stepping up for once” “Yeah, too bad he was the one that poisoned them in the first place”) 

(Lucifer: he WHAT)

Taking care of you afterwards:

Mammon is usually the first thing you see in the morning, so that doesn’t come as a surprise. What does surprise you is how quiet he’s being. 

When you sit up and groggily ask, “Is something wrong?” (barely getting the words through your swollen lips) he is torn between trying to say something smooth (”N-not now that you’re okay!! not that i care....”) or calling you a dumb human. So instead he just stares at you

Eventually you can get it out of him what happened, and it explains why your face feels like it had been burned and your stomach feels gross

Mammon says he’s going to come up with a surefire way to protect you so nothing like this ever happens again, but his version of protecting you is sticking by your side 24/7 and he already does that so?

You’re the one that’s going to have to take the lead. Make a list of common ingredients that are SUPER deadly to humans and make sure you both have one for reference

Soon enough, though, he figures out how he can help you without your guidance and you catch him pointing out what’s safe without you having to ask

He follows you to the lunch line and examines the clear plastic boxes until he can point out a few human-safe options. He’ll bend to whisper in your ear in line at some fast-food joint. If you’re not sure, he’ll be the first to ask before you even remember that’s something you should be doing anyway.

He’ll even try to make dishes he thinks you’ll like without the poisonous ingredient! Sometimes it takes a few tries but if he wants you to try something with him, he WILL make it himself

When it comes to you, Mammon really will give you the best care he can. Sometimes he just needs that extra push to think things through.

(And if this wasn’t a push. a hard shove. over a cliff. into shark infested waters)

(don’t do this again, mc. his demon heart can’t take it)

When you start coughing:

Levi has never mentioned how his brother don’t normally speak much to him at dinner and he’s just learned to be highly attuned to you. He notices a lot of little things you do, and is normally the first to realize when you’re choking or something.

That’s why, when you start coughing this time, he is the first one to panic. He knows that that isn’t a normal cough, he just doesn’t know what to do about it.

He looks down at his plate and realizes what’s on it, something he cries out right when you fall to the ground, clutching your stomach. You’re on the other side of the table and his brothers are already crowding around you, so Levi doesn’t get to see the blood and can only hear your coughing.

When your coughing gets weaker as you faint, he freaks. the. fuck. out. Did you die?? Even as he tries to look over his brother’s shoulders, he can’t get a good grasp of what happened until somebody tells him.

(It doesn’t matter much though. He’s still stuck in a loop of wondering what he could’ve done if he had gotten to dinner sooner, if he had managed to score a coveted seat next to you, if he had just looked at his plate or offered to take over for Mammon...)

Taking care of you afterwards:

You wake up in your bed and Lucifer is the one who comes in, asking you how you feel and if you’re up to classes to die. 

Being poisoned sure does take a lot out of you, so you ask to stay. Lucifer gives a quick nod and warns you not to shirk your duties, wishing you a fast recovery and letting you know that (human safe) food has been set aside specifically for you.

You doze off soon after (hey, a sick day may as well be spent sleeping in, right?) and when you wake up, somebody else is there, looking at you with inquisitive orange eyes and nearly scaring you half to death.

When you scream, he screams, backing up into your dresser and knocking some of the things off of it. 

“I-I’m sorry-! I was just- told to check up on you- just in c-case....I’ll leave now!”

Boy’s gonna make you chase after him when you’re basically sick smh

If you go to his room and demand to be let in, he will - and he’ll let you stay under the guise of “well if you have to check on me every hour it’ll be less of a hassle if I just stay here...”

You won’t be able to get him to say he feels guilty for letting this happen, but when you pick up on the signs ensure him that he’s doing fine taking care of you. HIs cool room helps soothe your mouth (which is still a little irritated), and you’re honored he has an alarm set to check up on you

You know he’s feeling better about it all when an alarm goes off and he just asks “Hey you good?” and he chuckles a little bit when you respond “Hold on I gotta check my own pulse....... yeah i think i’m good”

Overall he is worried but he doesn’t know how to communicate it? So it’s a lot of quick, worried glances and double checking nutrition facts on packages before he hands them to you.

He kind of leaves you to your own devices, but he does send you worried glances every now and then until you’re recovered. He also makes it a point, when Mammon’s on dinner duty, to tell him exactly how he prepared the meal, though you don’t know if it’s for your sake or just to bother him. Probably both.

When you start coughing:

Satan has taken to leaving his books in his room for most dinner and talks to you in their place, so he notices what’s in the dish pretty quickly.

However, the second step of realizing what it could do to a human doesn’t quite hit him until you’re already on your second bite.

He reaches out to grab your wrist anyway, watching you cough while also staring at him in confusion. As he watches your face redden and your mouth swell, you take your wrist from his grasp and cover your mouth with your hand.

He’s the one who knows what to do, so he appoints someone to keep and eye on you while he runs (yes, runs, but he’ll act all cool about it if his brothers bring it up later) to his room to get some potion that’ll (hopefully) negate the effects

(Don’t let him hear me say this but) he’s similar to Lucifer in that he’s very level-headed when it happens - somebody needs to be focused on the cure when some of his more dramatic brothers are screaming (looking at you, Mammon and Asmo)

Taking care of you afterwards:

Satan might be the best at taking care of you, but he’s probably also the least fun.

Once he realized a while ago how fragile a human could be (and that he was interested in actually keeping you alive rather than just watching how long it takes for something to hurt you), he put in an effort to read up on how to help a poisoned human in the Devildom.

He knows how you must be feeling, and he offers you soothing teas or even a (human safe!) numbing lip balm to help you out.

(He finds great pleasure in how ridiculous you look, now that the danger’s passed - though he won’t tell you outright, you can tell it by the amused grin he isn’t even trying to hide)

Don’t be surprised if you catch him eyeing your plates of food for a while after the incident, and any time you catch him in the act he’ll look at you, take a drink out of the nearest cup and lift his eyebrows in a weird little acknowledgment that he’s been caught before saying “It looks tasty.”

Overall, he’s the standard amount of worried? Even though he will take every opportunity to tease you about how you looked afterwards or how feeble you are to be taken down by something so small (jokingly), he won’t ever get out of the habit of double checking your food to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

When you start coughing:

Asmodeus eyes you warily when you start coughing, but continues with his entertaining until you hit the ground.

He’s by your side in an instant, hands hovering over you as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself (he doesn’t).

He doesn’t remember calling for Satan, but Satan is the one who kneels by you, so maybe he does? His focus is on you and deciding on something he can do to help.

This ends up shielding your face, puffy and a mess from your tears and retching, from the others who are all peering over at you in concern. He knows it’s not the most pressing detail, but he figures that maybe he can preserve your dignity a little bit, no?

He follows the action with his hands covering his mouth nervously, watching as they have to force a potion down your throat now that you’re unconscious. He’s allowed to stay by you once they determine that you’re safe since he normally doesn’t cause too much of a fuss - not when he looks as pale and miserable as he does now, anyway.

Taking care of you afterwards:

He’s not too experienced in the healthcare field, but boy does he know self care! He knows how to get your skin feeling less gross after the rather...irritable reaction it had and the best way to rest is if you feel totally physically relaxed, right?

For a while, if your stomach still feels like it’s churning or you’re otherwise unfocused, he’s the first to defend you from anybody who thinks you’re overreacting. 

Also makes sure nobody outside of the house knows how...unsightly of an ordeal it was. He isn’t shaming you internally or anything, but he’d loathe to have such an unpretty picture in people’s heads when you’ve been nothing but showstopping the whole time beforehand!

Will make sure to grab a seat across from you juuust before you take a bite for a while. It doesn’t matter if he’s across the room in the middle of a story or if you’re at a cafe with someone else and he’s still home. You’ll find him sliding in wordlessly to the seat across from you and watching you intently, making sure you’re eating something that isn’t going to burn you from the inside out.

Has multiple websites bookmarked on his D.D.D. that tell him what is poisonous to you and makes sure YOU are aware of what you’re putting inside your body before you eat it. He seems to genuinely think you’ll forget to save yourself from such a life-threatening situation, but the pout he gives you when you try to get him to stop is enough to convince you to live with it.

When you start coughing:

When you start coughing, he reaches over and starts patting your back absently in the way that usually helps.

He notices the way you grasp onto the table in an attempt to keep yourself up, coughing into your other hand as it gets worse by the second. When you almost slip off, he reaches out to catch you before you hit to floor

Is ready to do the Heimlich when one of his brothers stops him because 1) he’d probably snap you in half, and 2) that’s not what’s happening

He watches blankly as Satan approaches him, laying you down gently as instructed. That’s probably worse, watching you writhe on the floor like that.

He’s the one instructed to help hold you down so they can feed you the potion cure. He wants to hold your hand but it’s covered in blood, and he doesn’t want to risk loosening his grip on you and you somehow spilling it.

Taking care of you afterwards:

He’s the one most shaken up about the whole ordeal, I’d think? While the others are definitely worried he’s the one that has the BIGGEST problem with the feeling of helplessness so I think it would bring back some memories

He definitely keeps a watchful eye over you until you can tell him coherently that you’re okay, and even then he’s still treating you like porcelain for a short while

He can’t help it! Any time he’s reminded of just how frail you can be (and how unexpectedly something horrible can happen) he just...needs a few gentle moments to collect his thoughts.

Does NOT want you even looking at anything that has that plant in it (or anything else poisonous for that matter). Will straight up eat an entire dish from the pan if you give it a glance that he thinks means you’re thinking about eating it. He can usually get away with it since that’s similar to what he already does, but every now and then you see the look in his eyes and wonder if there’s something more to it

He’ll warn you in the future if he knows something is poisonous, but if you’re trying something new he’ll automatically ask you “Can you eat that?” If he doesn’t know, he can at least remind you to check for yourself.

When you start coughing:

Very few things can snap Belphegor out of a drowsy dinner stupor. You suddenly falling on the floor and coughing your insides out is one of the things that can.

If his brothers weren’t so concerned with you, they’d have a few quips about how quickly he startled awake

The first thing he does is dart his eyes back to the table, where he quickly realizes that they just inadvertently poisoned you. When he turns back, it seems the others have already come to that conclusion and someone is running off to help you

He knows that he doesn’t have much to offer in terms of help, but he will tear somebody (Mammon) away from you and kneel next to Beel.

He keeps himself under control by comforting Beel as he holds you down. 

There’s definitely a sick feeling in his stomach, something familiar about you lying on the floor and bleeding that he doesn’t like. He pretends to be averting his eyes at the sight of them forcing a potion down your throat and not some regrettable memory.

Taking care of you afterwards:

You wake up and Belphie is curled up next to you in your bed. Nobody else is in the house and it’s 3 PM. You feel gross and you can’t reach your phone to actually confirm what time it is and you have no idea what the fuck is going on until he wakes up

Which he does, after you poke and prod him enough and he’s very grumpy about it

“yeesh, you get poisoned and suddenly you think you’re the princess of the devildom”

“I get WHAT”

Definitely is planning to get Mammon back tenfold

He tries to act nonchalant about it but he does keep waking up ever few hours and lifts his head to like. check that you’re good for the first day or so. 

Sometimes he gets this sad look in his eyes and you have to smooth his hair back and reassure him that everything’s okay. It works a little but if he thinks he can trick you by pretending to sleep and then steal a few moments where he can Brood on his own while STILL cuddled up next to you, he will.

Suddenly takes an interest in what you’re eating. Every day. Every meal. 

He doesn’t go to check on you but he does text you a few minutes before lunch or if you’re getting dinner somewhere other than the house “What are you planning on eating?”

Gets real huffy if you don’t give him a straight answer. Usually will respond with a “Whatever don’t get yourself almost killed again”

If you decide to get cheeky and answer “Probably straight poison, like right out of the mysterious bottle with a skull on it” he will just say “ugh, sounds like you. have fun.”

“...”

“...”

“...seriously, don’t do that mc.”

he sets alarms to wake up so he can make sure you don’t ingest literal poison be a little nice to him please

[tennessoui]

hi all of your aus are amazing! pls what happens with divorced!obiwan and the twins?

hey!! sorry this took so long i had to think of an appropriate cliffhanger

this is a continuation of this ficlet and this ficlet, where divorced!obi-wan accidentally acquires a partner and a set of twins.

(2k WHOOPS)

The twins are not, and probably have never been described by anyone except their father, angels. They take to Obi-Wan as well as Obi-Wan takes to them, which is to say that all three of them watch each other suspiciously until one day Luke launches himself off the top of the fridge--how the fuck did he manage to get up there--and Obi-Wan drops his morning toast in a frantic bid to catch him.

After that, Leia and Luke apparently decide he is Another Anakin Who Is Just Around A Lot Less But Is Better At Reading Bedtime Stories and deign to treat him as such.

Obi-Wan decides that he’s going to have a heart attack by the age of fifty. Do all children see a childproof house as a challenge?

It somehow takes both a longer and shorter time to win over Anakin’s favor, mostly because Obi-Wan isn’t sure what the man’s thinking at any given moment. He seems to blow hot and cold depending on how he woke up or how the work day goes. Some days, Obi-Wan comes home from campus and Anakin and the twins have waited to eat until he’s there. Sometimes they’ve eaten and there’s a meal under foil on the stove just for Obi-Wan.

(“I don’t know how you do it,” Obi-Wan tells him one night after the children are put to bed. “I mean, work from home with your job, mind the children, and cook?”

“They made me head of the R&D department a few months ago,” Anakin admits, taking a sip of his second glass of wine. “So I’m doing a lot more checking through other people’s work instead of making my own. It just means I can do that and make something edible--no, really, you just can’t cook, Obi-Wan, I’m not the best either.”

“Do you miss getting to make something other than food?” Obi-Wan asks eventually, giving himself enough time to recover from the sound of the other’s giggles.

Anakin shrugs languidly. “It’s better salary, and I’m the youngest ever in the company to have the position. Means I’ll pay off my student loans quicker, same with my mom’s hospital bills. Doesn’t matter what I want.”

Obi-Wan’s chest hurts and he wants to lean across the gap between their chairs and place his hand on Anakin’s arm, but they don’t know each other like that. It’s only been a month and a half since they moved in. Still. “It always matters what you want,” he insists. “And I think you’re amazing.”

Anakin blushes bright scarlet and takes a huge gulp of wine, and Obi-Wan wonders if this is a throwing-yourself-off-the-fridge break through.)

(It’s not because the next day, Anakin doesn’t say a single word to him, which bothers him more than he’d like to admit.)

(“Am I in the wrong for wanting to get along with my housemate?” Obi-Wan asks Quinlan despairingly during their office hours that he should be using to grade papers. Instead all he can think about is Anakin Skywalker and the goddamn cold shoulder he’s been getting from the man for the past three days.

“Yeah,” Quin says absentmindedly, marking something with a red pen before looking up at Obi-Wan’s outraged intake of breath. “I mean, no. I mean, sorry, Obi, what are we even talking about now? Is it still your hot new roommate with the two kids? Because that’s what we were talking about an hour and a half ago.”

Obi-Wan crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “I’m just not sure I appreciate--”

“And you said he’s not been hanging around in the living room when you get home? But he’s still leaving you meals in the kitchen? And you’re upset about the free food?”

Obi-Wan is upset at the lack of Anakin’s presence, but he thinks that’s probably not the right thing to say here.

“Maybe he’s just tired?” Quinlan puts down his pen and rests his chin on one of his hands as he looks at Obi-Wan. “From the kids and the job and putting up with your moody ass. C’mon, Obi, what’s really getting you worked up?”

Obi-Wan purses his lips and stares at the desk in front of him, but he had come to Quinlan for help. He should at least be honest about what’s eating at him, even though he knows how silly it will sound when given a voice. “...Satine always waited up for me,” he mutters. “Until she didn’t.”

Quinlan’s quiet for a worryingly large amount of seconds, before he reaches out to pat Obi-Wan gently on the arm. “Oh, Obi,” he says pityingly. “Repeat after me. You cannot make your new roommate your rebound from your thirty year marriage.”

Obi-Wan scoffs. That’s not the problem at all. “That’s not the problem at all,” he says, not defensively in the slightest. “I think I’m just worried about the children not having enough structure in their lives.”

“Right,” Quinlan says, not quite managing to hide the skepticism in his voice. “Then you should talk to him. For the sake of the children.”

Obi-Wan will absolutely not be doing that, but it’s a nice thought.)

The real turning point in Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship happens five months after the Skywalkers move in.

Anakin and Obi-Wan are in the living room. Anakin is trying to braid Leia’s hair while Obi-Wan tries to pretend he isn’t watching. From the kitchen, there’s a very, very loud crash and the sound of something shattering.

Both adults leap up from their seats immediately and run to the other room.

Luke is standing in the epi-center of disaster, little face scrunched up like he doesn’t know whether or not to cry. At the sight of his dad and Obi-Wan, he starts to wail, moving forward and reaching for Anakin.

Obi-Wan, who is wearing shoes inside the house (a point of contention between himself and Anakin), grabs Luke roughly and picks him up by the armpits before he can cut his feet on the glass. He hands him over to Anakin to soothe, stepping further into the kitchen to find the dustpan he keeps in one of the pantries.

It’s very obvious what broke, though Obi-Wan can’t for the life of him understand how Luke got ahold of Satine’s heavy cake stand. He can definitely understand how Luke dropped it, as the thing was ridiculously heavy.

It had been one of the only things left in the house that had been Satine’s. She’d left it, and Obi-Wan had been too bitter or petty to point it out to her. Yes, it had been her mother’s. No, keeping it had not made him feel any better. But it’s not like Satine ever baked anything anyway.

Good for Luke, actually, for doing what Obi-Wan never could bring himself to do.

He grabs the broom and dustpan and marches back to the pieces of shattered glass. Anakin has placed Luke on the counter, ostensibly to check to make sure his feet are fine if the boy would ever let go of his father’s neck. Leia is peering around at the mess on the floor.

When Obi-Wan comes back and starts sweeping everything away, she darts forward to pick up a rather sizeable chunk.

“Don’t touch that,” Obi-Wan says sharply, much harsher than he intended. Leia drops it instantly and scurries back to her father, eyes wide and sort of watery. Oh, fuck.

“Hey,” Anakin snaps immediately. “She’s just trying to help and Luke didn’t mean to break--whatever that is.”

Obi-Wan holds up his hand to cut Anakin off. “I’m not mad,” he promises all three of the Skywalkers. And he’s not even lying. He’s really not mad, hasn’t even thought to be mad at this last piece of proof of his relationship with Satine shattering on his kitchen floor. “I just don’t want either of you to cut yourself. Glass like this can be very dangerous and none of you are wearing shoes.”

“Promise?” Luke asks, untucking his red face from Anakin’s neck so he can peer up at Obi-Wan.

“I’m sorry I was a bit rough,” Obi-Wan apologizes, coming over and bending down a bit so he’s on the same level as Luke. “I was just worried about you. Promise.”

Luke sniffles but lets go of Anakin to throw himself at Obi-Wan, apologizing all the way.

“Hush,” Obi-Wan says as Leia scrambles up his leg, vying for his attention. With his hands full of children that aren’t his, he raises his head to look at Anakin who’s watching them with a very strange expression on his face. He tilts his head toward the broom and then down to the kids in his arms. “Come along,” he tells them both. “Leia, I’ll finish your braids if you’d like.”

“Braid my hair too!” Luke demands with a pull on Obi-Wan’s shirt.

Luke’s hair is floppy but awfully short. “I’m sure we can figure something out,” Obi-Wan says generously, leaving the kitchen.

“I suppose I’ll just clean this up then?” Anakin calls sarcastically behind them.

“Thank you, darling,” Obi-Wan responds.

There’s the sound of something else breaking, but it’s not Obi-Wan’s problem at the moment.

(A year later, Anakin mentions something over morning coffee about looking for a new apartment, now that he’s got everything straightened out. “We’ll get out of your hair,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’ll look today since it’s my day off.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t want to examine why that idea makes something curl tightly in his stomach, making him feel vaguely nauseous, but it does. On his way out of the house, he unplugs the router, and then after a second of thought, takes it with him just in case.)

(Quinlan laughs his head off when Obi-Wan sheepishly puts the router down on the desk in front of him. “It’s a bad market right now,” Obi-Wan says defensively. “I’m just looking out for him.”

“Obi, I mean this in the best way possible, but there are at least four professors in the psych department that would probably love to do a case study on you.”)

(Two years after the Skywalkers move in, Obi-Wan is running late for a meeting with the head of his department. The man is stepping down, finally retiring, and Obi-Wan thinks that perhaps he’ll be tapped as the new head. It would mean dropping some of his classes, but it would be worth it.

“I made you a breakfast wrap,” Anakin greets him at the door, holding out a paper bag. “It’s got that salsa you like in it.”

The salsa Obi-Wan likes is the mild version of what Anakin and the kids eat, but Anakin treats it as if it’s from another planet entirely.

“Good luck!” he says with a sweet smile, also passing Obi-Wan a travel mug of what’s hopefully fully caffeinated tea. Obviously Obi-Wan needs it. He got perhaps two full hours of sleep last night, tossing and turning and thinking about this meeting and now he’s running late and his tie is crooked and none of his favorite sweater vests were clean.

“Thank you, dear one,” Obi-Wan mumbles, mind somewhere else. If traffic isn’t too bad, he could still be on time.

“Text me how it goes!” Anakin chirps, following Obi-Wan out the door to stand on the front porch with his arms crossed in an attempt to fight off the early winter chill.

“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan replies, turning around to brush an absent-minded kiss to Anakin’s lips before hurrying to his car. It’s a twenty minute commute. If he gets his preferred parking spot and runs to the department building, he won’t be late at all.

Is that too much to hope for?

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, looking back in the rearview mirror to see Anakin standing frozen on the porch. That’s strange, usually the other man can’t stand being out in the cold.

Obi-Wan gets to the first stop-sign out of the neighborhood before he realizes what he’s done. It’s lucky that he’s already slowing down, because he slams on the brakes. Did he--

Did he kiss Anakin? Did he really kiss Anakin as if he does it all the time? As if they were in a relationship?

Oh shit.

Frantically, he pulls out his cellphone from his bag and checks to see if he has any new messages. He doesn’t.

Oh. Shit.

[buckysgoldenheart]

The Ways We Meet

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: While trying to avoid another man at an A-list event, you accidentally bump into Henry who has no interest in letting you go despite not even knowing your name.

Notes: idk, I thought it was kinda cute. Pov changes back and forth between Y/N and Henry A LOT. Implied smut (because I’m so damn bad at writing full smut).

Words: 2211

Y/N:

These events pissed you off, they really did. Despite being only a director’s assistant, you were forced to attend. And it wasn’t the tight, sparkly dresses you had to wear that made you miserable, nor the heavy makeup or the overcrowding in rooms that far surpassed fire department code. It was more that you felt out of place and always managed to have one creepy man sense that from a mile away with the intent to pray on what looked like your innocence. You weren’t innocent, by far, but you supposed the impression you gave off by the way you stood away from others, sipping the same drink for a half hour, made sense.

Usually, drinking in a dark corner at an A-list event by the time midnight came around kept you safe. Those creepy men surrendered to your disinterest in them, and ventured to find an easier, more desperate woman. But not tonight. Tonight, this one was persistent.

You didn’t know his name; never let him get close enough to tell you, but he followed you around, not so subtly watching you with a look in his eyes that had you nauseous. Every step he neared you was a step you took in the opposite direction hoping to evade his creepiness.

Henry:

It had been a long night, too long, and Henry wished he could just go back to the hotel and watch a stupid movie until the early hours of the Sunday morning, since there was no way he would get a good nights sleep with the jetlag still wracking his body from the morning before.

He was saying goodbye to a couple coworkers, patting them on their backs in a friendly gesture when his shoulder roughly shoved forward. He stumbled a step, and before he could turn to see why, a woman passed him.

Her body was wrapped a snug, shiny red gown, and she had curls pinned back into an elegant bun, and when she turned to apologize, she lightly touched his bicep, smiling politely before continuing on her path. His breath hitched but she didn’t notice as she was gone a half-second later, buried somewhere in the mass of bodies.

His lips were still parted, stunned, until a friend tapped his shoulder.

“Hey, are you ok?” The friend asked, to which Henry only nodded, then walked away in the direction the woman went.

It took time to find her, but when he did, something in his chest seemed to both tighten and lighten in sync. He watched her from a distance as she took a gulp of the drink in her hand then placed it back on the counter and ducked. Henry chuckled, but then spotted him: A smallish man slowly making his way toward where she was unsuccessfully hiding.

Henry quickly shuffled his way through the crowd, and just moments before the other man could’ve spotted her, Henry snatched her by the arm and pulled her into a corner. With his back to the wall, he faced the crowd, his arms holding her snuggly, chest to chest, until the man passed them by.

Y/N:

“You’re safe now,” A man said, drawing your attention upward, and your eyes couldn’t help but widen. Henry Cavill was looking at you with a playful smirk on his handsome face that you never in a million years would have imagined be directed toward you. “Remember me?”

“Shit,” You cursed yourself. “It was you I bumped into earlier.” What a way to make a first impression. How was it that you always managed to look like an idiot in front of the hottest actors at these parties? This certainly wasn’t the first time. Chris Evans could confirm that, and probably wouldn’t hesitate to.

“It was.”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I’m not normally so rude. I can explain.”

Henry’s shoulders shook as he laughed, and it reminded you that he still held you tight, with an odd protectiveness. “I think I’ve caught on to the situation,” He said. “Do you know that guy?”

You shook your head.

Henry casually nodded at your confirmation, that smile still on his face, but it slipped a moment later and you didn’t have to guess why. He looked back at you. “Do you think you could trust a stranger for a brief minute?”

“W-What?”

“Yes or no?” He quickly asked.

You blinked. “Yea, I guess.”

“Good,” He said, then slammed his lips to yours.

It shocked you but the feeling of having every part of your body pressed against his made you dizzy, and what was meant to force the creeper away, lasted much longer than the minute Henry promised. Many minutes longer. Enough minutes to give you the time to slide your hands up his chest until they settled on the back of his neck. Enough minutes to have him groaning when you softly nibbled on his bottom lip. Enough minutes to have your heart pounding.

You pulled back first when the embarrassment began to flood your body. Chuckling awkwardly, you stepped out of his arms, and said, “Um, thanks for the help…stranger,” then tried to disappear as fast as you could, for the first time thankful of the enormous crowd.

Henry:

She stiffened as his hand clasped around her wrist before she could get away, and when she turned to look at his face, she became no less tense. It made Henry feel uneasy. He liked her a little too much for how long he’d known her—which was nearly no time at all--and when he kissed her with everything he had, he thought it might’ve been enough to get her to stick around, at least for an extra minute or two.

He wasn’t arrogant. Yes, he’d had women tell him he was a good kisser, but he didn’t assume one kiss from him would have her falling on her knees, begging him to take her home. Henry just thought she felt something too. Perhaps more than one should from a stranger’s kiss, but enough of something to make her pause and question why it felt so damn good, just as he had for the millisecond before she bolted. It had him unwilling to give up so soon.

“Now where are you going?” Henry said, trying to hide the twinge of desperation in his voice.

“Sorry, I—”

“What’s your name?” He asked.

She blinked with her big, butterfly-wing-like lashes as if she hadn’t expected him to care. “…Y/N.”

“Ok, well, Y/N, I think that guy got the hint. You don’t have to keep running.”

“You never know.” She shrugged and anxiously bit the inside of her cheek.

“Right then, how about we leave?”

“What?”

“Do you like coffee?”

“…Sometimes,” One corner of her lips hesitantly turned upward. “Not usually at twelve thirty in the morning.”

Henry grinned as his thumb ran back and forth along the inside of her wrist. “Well, decaf is a thing, and I happen to know a place not far from here that’s open for another hour.”

Y/N:

You didn’t know how you managed to be pinned against one of his hotel room walls, but you were. You weren’t drunk from the little alcohol you’d had at the party, and the coffee certainly wasn’t spiked, but you still couldn’t explain how you were now moaning from the feel of Henry’s lips attached to your neck. Not that you were complaining.

“Goddamn,” He groaned against the skin of your collarbone as his fingers bunched the glittery fabric of your gown up until his hand could slip underneath. As it glided up your thigh, his palm left burns from its trail, and your skin grew hotter with each inch he made closer to your core. “You’re like an angel.”

You let out a throaty chuckle. “Hardly.”

Henry lifted his head and his hazy blue eyes met yours. “Hardly, huh?” He said as his index finger ran along the edge of your panties. He could’ve easily tucked a finger under that useless barrier and felt how wet you were.

“Yes,” You smirked, reaching your hand forward and undoing the buckle of his belt. “Hardly.”

Then you lowered to your knees.

Henry:

Henry didn’t even have to open his eyes to know that she was gone. He’d woken up a few times throughout the night, only to fall right back into peaceful sleep when he felt her warm body tucked into him. Each time, he tightened his arm firmly around her waist as she emitted little soft snores. But now, without the weight of her body next to his, Henry felt cold. Only the empty dip in the mattress where she’d laid for hours remained.

Her warmth was gone. She was gone.

And it stung a lot more than it should. He didn’t even know her last name or her age or, hell, anything about her. He knew he shouldn’t be as upset as he was, but he wanted to learn those things. To get to know her. Coffee the night before gave little insight to who she really was. That time was spent throwing flirtatious jokes back and forth, and if he’d have known she wouldn’t have given him the next morning to ask the important things, he’d have slowed himself down.

Fisting his fingers into his hair, Henry groaned at more than just the glaring sunlight streaming through the windows giving him a ripe headache. He shouldn’t be hung up on someone he barely knew. It wasn’t healthy.

Y/N:

God, you hoped you weren’t overstepping your bounds, or worse, being that girl who hangs around after a one-night stand long after the guy wants you to. You just…didn’t want to leave. He surprised you with his sincerity. He seemed to like you, though you didn’t know why, but you liked him, and, for once, you were willing to take the risk of sticking around for the morning after. It could be awkward. It could crash and burn. But if you weren’t going to be brave enough to see how the rest of the day could unfold, you knew you would regret it.

But, staying or not, it didn’t mean you weren’t going to hop down to the hotel lobby as soon as you woke to get your coffee fill. And based on what you saw last night, Henry liked his coffee rich and black.

Henry:

Who was he trying to fool? This was absolutely going to ruin his day. They’d had a rare chemistry that made him feel like he’d known her forever, and the sex certainly didn’t suck. Not even close.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, Henry sat up and rubbed his face with both hands. If she wasn’t going to be there, he might as well get dressed and go about his day. At least, that’s what he thought, until he heard the door lock click and the handle turn.

His head shot to the sound, and he was almost stunned when he saw her walk in, shakily balancing two cups of coffee, a danish, and a muffin in her arms. She jumped when she saw him looking at her, still impressively holding on to the breakfast.

“H-Hi,” She said. And, damn, Henry liked that voice.

“Hi,” He smiled back, and at the gesture he could see her shoulders relax.

He stood and walked towards her, neglecting his boxers entirely, just thrilled she hadn’t disappeared forever. She looked down and blushed, then averted her eyes as he began to unload the food from her arms, and one-by-one placed the items on the table. When she still hadn’t looked back at him, he chuckled and tucked a finger under her chin, tilting it up until she was forced to meet his eyes.

“Don’t be shy on me now.”

He ran his hands down her arms and grabbed both of her hands in his when she sighed and said “Sorry, I’m not…” She took a breath,” I don’t usually do this.”

“Hook up with strangers?”

“No, stick around the morning after. I kind of assume I’m not wanted, so—”

“You’re wanted here. Believe me,” Henry said fast, because those thoughts were the last he wanted on her mind.

She gaped, but then grinned wide and bright. “Really?”

“Definitely,” He said. “I want to know you.”

Y/N:

He wants to know you. Those words made your stomach flip. Though you took the risk to not sneak out at the break of dawn, you figured the odds of him not shuffling you out the door were unlikely to be in your favor. But you weren’t complaining about being wrong.

You grew embarrassed when you realized that dopey smile was still on your face, so you quickly wiped it off then grabbed the muffin and offered it to him. One corner of his lips quirked in unison with an eyebrow, and he gently took the offering from your hand.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling the paper down to take a bite.

“So, um…if we want to get to know one another, what do you want to do?”

Henry only smirked and said “Well…I’ve got some ideas.” He took another bite then licked the remaining crumbs off his lips, which was somehow more distracting than the fact that he was completely naked. “Half of them don’t involve clothes, though.”

[blossom-hwa]

Stardust - CHANGMIN

So like. This was the first full scenario I wrote for TBZ and I can’t believe I wrote this before actually even STARTING No Air, but whatever! It was cute! I couldn’t help myself but I didn’t want to post this before No Air so that’s why it’s late

Thank you to @deathbykpopboys for helping me put this scenario together! Honestly I don’t think I’d ever write anything without sunny hhhh she’s always so great with ideas <3

Pairing: Changmin x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, a little angst if you squint, teacher!au

Triggers: alcohol, cursing

Word Count: 2.7k

Changmin sometimes thinks you’re a little too perfect to exist.

TBZ Masterlist | No Air | Touching Stars | Breathe, and Live

Friday nights are always fun, for Changmin. Friday’s the last day of the work week and kind of blends into the weekend, and because he’s a schoolteacher, he (sort of) gets the weekend off. Sure, he might be making lesson plans or writing reports or doing other important, not fun things, but he also has his stolen moments for dance or shopping or things that he doesn’t have time to do during the week. He’s free, more or less.

The last Friday night of each month, though, Changmin enjoys the most, when he, Jacob, and Kevin meet up for cheap food and drinks. And as much as Changmin likes to wreak havoc on the lives of his fellow teachers (mostly by scaring the wits out of them with dolphin screams and horror movie masks), he really does enjoy their presence in his life and appreciates them for it.

They haven’t a missed a night so far, not since that time Jacob was out with the flu and Kevin had a family emergency. And even though Changmin’s definitely done and said some stupid (read: really embarrassing) things while under the influence, the pros of each night always end up outweighing the cons. So if Changmin wakes up the next morning with a hangover, well, that’s just a side effect of having some fun.

But sometimes he has thoughts. Thoughts that he’s repressed so well he might not even register them, but that exist nonetheless. And Changmin, sadly, is a truthful drunk. His thoughts come spilling out of his mouth, mostly unfiltered, whenever he’s had enough to drink.

And this week, Changmin has been having thoughts. Thoughts that he isn’t sure he wants to spill.

If he drinks, they’ll flood out. It’s the way Changmin works – he’s had enough experiences with alcohol and his brain that he knows what will happen. As he stares at the soju bottle on the table, he knows that if he drinks, he’ll probably regret it in the morning. Not necessarily because he’ll remember what he says – his memory tends to get a bit spotty even after a round of light drinking – but because Kevin definitely will.

Normally, Changmin would praise God for Kevin's ability to remember drunk things. Coupled with his inability to lie, it makes for so much potent blackmail. Sure, Kevin makes Changmin and Jacob swear not to talk about anything he said under the influence, but Changmin isn't an angel the way Jacob is. If it came down to it, he'd sell Kevin's secrets for a single corn chip and some entertainment.

(Okay, not really. But the point still stands.)

If he complained about this to people, they’d probably just laugh and say something about how Kevin is a precious pure meme, that he’d never sell out Changmin’s deepest thoughts for anything. After several years of working with him, though, Changmin knows better.

(He’ll just say that sometimes, Mr. Kev Kev isn't the happy-go-lucky meme-y little boy that everyone likes to make him out to be.)

So maybe Changmin shouldn't be drinking tonight. There isn’t necessarily a lot on his mind, but he’s been thinking of things that he doesn't want spilled just yet, and drinking will only make that possibility a reality.

Isn’t that what alcohol is for, though? To make those worries disappear, if only for a short while? The soju beckons at Changmin, even more so when Kevin actually opens the bottle. Eventually, he throws caution to the wind and fills his own glass.

It’s a clear night, mostly. A bit cloudy, but no sign of rain, and there’s a pleasant little breeze that feels cool against his cheeks. Sitting at one of the small tables outside of the restaurant, Changmin loses himself in the food and the conversation.

After an hour, Jacob decides he needs to leave because he’s supposed to meet with his family the next day and can’t get too plastered. Kevin calls him a noob while making a face, but Jacob, being the angel he is, just pats him on the head on his way out. Privately, Changmin thinks Kevin is much more of a noob than Jacob, but the alcohol hasn’t addled his mind enough to say that out loud just yet.

At some point, though, the world becomes pleasantly muddy. Changmin can register what’s going on at a distant level and he probably shouldn’t drink too much more, but he takes a last shot anyway, just as Kevin asks a slightly slurred “How’s life with Y/N?”

A stupid smile stretches across Changmin’s lips. “Kevin, oh my God, she’s perfect.” He grins, the breeze cool against his flushed cheeks. "She’s so beautiful, it doesn't make sense that we exist in the same world."

Kevin mutters something that sounds like "whipped" and "so soft."

Changmin is sure that if he were sober, he would've attacked his fellow teacher by now, but his tipsy haze is too pleasant to interrupt. He just wants to keep talking. "Kevin," he whines. "Pay attention."

"Okay." Face flushed, Kevin puts his chin on his fist. "'M listening."

"Y/N’s so beautiful." Dimly, Changmin is aware that he's just repeating himself, but he can't help it. The point needs emphasis. "Kevin, she’s so amazing. So much more amazing than me. So smart. Did you know Y/N knows like ten programming languages?"

Tipsily, Kevin shakes his head. "What... what's a program."

"Computer shit." Changmin plays idly with his shot glass. "Doesn't matter. So smart, so nice, so... lovely, Kevin. Y/N’s good at everything. She cuts fruit for me when I work late and make me go to sleep. She doesn’t know anything about dance and tries to help anyway. She works so hard and never takes anyone’s shit and she always knows when I need time alone or when I need comfort.” His mouth draws down into a slight frown. “She’s like... she’s like..."

Why is it so hard to come up with something to explain you? Your entire existence defies definition. How can he even find something comparable to the way you sparkle in his eyes?

Ignoring Kevin’s gaze trained on him, Changmin slumps over the table, eyes gazing out at the dark night. A few stars manage to glitter past the clouds and the piercing lights of the Seoul skyline.

Stars. Something tugs at the back of Changmin’s brain. Stars. Sparkly.

An image of your smile pops, unbidden, in his mind. Your bright eyes glimmer. Like stars.

Oh.

Stardust.

Yes, stardust.

You're like stardust, warm and gentle and... magical. Magical to the touch.

"She’s like." Changmin hiccups. "She’s like stardust, Kevin. Stardust. Perfect. Warm.”

A tear trickles down Kevin's cheek. Changmin has exactly two seconds to ready himself in his drunken haze before Kevin launches himself at his purple hoodie, loosely grasping at the soft cloth as he fully encases Changmin within his arms. "Ji Changmin," he sobs, muffled, "that is the most adorable thing I've ever heard you say."

Even sober, Changmin doesn't think he'd know what to say in response to that, so he just stays silent. It's not like Kevin would even hear him over the sound of his overemotional crying.

Anyway, Kevin's hug feels nice. Warm. Changmin doesn't think he needs to speak words at the moment, he's too comfortable. It's not the same as being in your arms, but he'll settle for it now. He burrows a little deeper into his friend's hold.

“You little child, you,” Kevin sobs into his shoulder. “You’re so sweet and small and warm, I can’t believe you exist.”

Changmin doesn’t feel like replying. There’s a bubble of something growing in his chest that he can’t entirely decipher right now, and his brain has focused on that. It’s some sort of emotion, he thinks. It doesn’t feel very pleasant.

His head gets pulled out of Kevin’s arms. He whines a little, annoyed by the lack of warmth, but he doesn’t really have the presence of mind to do anything but sit there limply as Kevin starts shaking him back and forth, still wailing about how “adorable his little Ji Changminnie is.”

The bubble keeps growing as Kevin keeps shaking him. It doesn’t feel like vomit – Changmin knows that sensation a bit too well – but it makes him feel a little sick. A little upset. The bubble feels suffocating, cold, but it also burns.

Not vomit. He doesn’t feel nauseous. But still unpleasant.

Kevin goes back to hugging Changmin into his chest, which soothes the bubble a little bit. The soft warmth of Kevin’s sweater smooths the burning and takes away the edge of the cold. But the bubble still stays as Changmin rocks back and forth in his friend’s hold, blankly trying to decipher the stupid emotion growing in his heart.

“There’s a bubble.” The words slip out of his mouth just past Kevin’s ear. “There’s a bubble in my chest.”

“Bubble?” Kevin pulls back slightly, flushed face confused. “What bubble?”

Changmin vaguely gestures at his chest as best he can with Kevin’s arms partially trapping his hands. “Here. Doesn’t feel good.”

Kevin’s eyes squint. “Need to vomit?”

“Nooooo,” Changmin whines. “Kevin, it’s a bubble.” He pauses. “Think it’s an emotion.”

He hears Kevin suck in a breath. “I can’t believe my precious little Scorpio child is finally feeling emotions,” the older boy says in a stage whisper, loud enough for at least the next two tables to hear. Changmin has enough presence of mind to slap him. “Hey!”

“It hurts.” Changmin’s lips pout deeper. “I don’t like it.”

“Aww, no, baby.” Kevin pats his head – a little too hard, but Changmin can deal with that. “Why does it hurt? What emotion is it?”

Changmin racks his brains for the word. It’s not a good feeling, so he tries to eliminate the good words as they pass through his mind. Not pleasant. Definitely not happy. Not calm, either.

Sadness? Maybe that’s part of it, but it’s not specific enough. Anger? Not really.

Fear?

Changmin isn’t scared of many things. He loves horror movies and thinks possessed dolls are cute, and it’s hard for anyone to really startle him. Fear is not an emotion that regularly appears in his repertoire.

But this time…

“I’m scared.” The two words slip out of his mouth, quiet, lonely. “’M scared, Kevin.”

Kevin pulls back again. “Changmin, you’re never scared.”

“I am now.” He purses his lips petulantly.

“Why?”

Unconsciously, the corners of his lips turn down even further into a blank pout. "Sometimes I think Y/N’s gonna leave. Slip through my fingers."

Even tipsy, Changmin can tell there are more tears welling up in Kevin's eyes. "But… you love each other?"

"Y/N’s stardust." Changmin's pout deepens. "Too perfect. She’s gonna realize that, that I'm not... I'm not good enough but she’s too nice to say that so she’ll just slip away." He hiccups again, feeling his cheeks burn with drink, fluttering his fingers loosely to make sure Kevin gets the point. "Like stardust."

Kevin remains silent for one, two, three seconds. Changmin takes that time to drain the last little bit of soju left in his cup.

Then Kevin nearly knocks the cup out of his hand when he literally grabs Changmin and forces him to curl up into his sweater, nose buried in the soft folds of cloth. “You beautiful, pure little child, you,” he coos, patting Changmin’s head (still a little too hard, but Changmin really doesn’t feel the need to deal with it right now). “You small little child. You poor, small child. Y/N is so in love with you, there’s no way she’ll ever leave.”

“Stardust,” Changmin reminds Kevin, words muffled into his sweater.

“Stardust,” Kevin agrees. “But good stardust. Gonna stay with you. Never going to leave.”

Changmin doesn’t remember much of what happens after that. He knows that they eventually pay for everything and Kevin’s partner picks them up (well, they were the one who was supposed to pick the two of them up. He doesn’t actually register the driver’s face, but Changmin hears Kevin calling them “love muffin, better than Beyonce,” so it’s probably them. He refuses to acknowledge any alternatives), but he’s too drunk and too tired to process anything else.

Somehow, he wakes up the next day curled up in his bed, forehead threatening to split from the dull pain. Mentally, he thanks himself for closing the shades before he passed out last night (or was it morning? He isn’t completely sure when he got home) so that the sunlight isn’t adding to his headache.

Get up, Changmin, he tells himself, summoning the strength to swing his legs out of bed. Step by step, he exits his room and slowly brushes his teeth before heading toward the kitchen for a bottle of water or something to get rid of the pounding in his head.

Changmin’s so out of it that he doesn’t register the smell of something cooking wafting out of the kitchen before he’s almost in it. He finally stops, confused, just in time to see your head poke out from the kitchen entrance.

For a second, Changmin just stares at you, brain buffering as he tries to come up with a suitable greeting in his hungover state. There’s this look on your face that Changmin’s muddled mind can’t seem to decipher.

Oh, God.

You look like you’re about to cry. 

He panics. What did he do wrong? Did he say something bad last night? He can’t remember anything – how badly did he screw up, what the hell did he do –

Then you leap at him, much the same way Kevin did last night, and bury your face into his shoulder.

“Ji Changmin,” you say, words muffled into his rumpled shirt, “I love you so much.”

Changmin’s mouth can only come up with a confused “huh?”

You pull back, eyes shining with tears, but mouth stretched into a beautiful, beautiful smile. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember what you told Kevin last night,” you say teasingly, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in your gaze.

Slowly, slowly, the events of last night begin to piece themselves together in Changmin’s brain. Every single stupid word he said to Kevin in his drunken stupor comes flooding back in one massive, jumbled mess.

He blushes.

“Ji Changmin.” You cup his puffy, red cheeks between your hands, voice trembling. “Listen to me. I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to slip through your fingers and, fucking, I don’t know, fly away. Because I am not perfect, I am not stardust, but god, I – you’re perfect for me. You are good enough for me, more than good enough for me. You are perfect, and I’m staying here forever. You’re not going to be able to get rid of me. Understood?”

“But –”

“Understood?”

Changmin stares into your shining eyes. Even with you standing right here, hands cradling his face with the gentlest touch, he can’t quite believe you’re real and not just some beautiful figment of his imagination. Slowly, slowly, one of his hands rises to touch the fingers resting against his cheek. Just to make sure this isn’t a dream.

Solid. Warm.

Not a dream. 

This is real.

He nods dumbly, a stupid smile spreading across his face. “Okay.”

You crush him close again and this time, Changmin’s arms automatically move to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. He can feel a few tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt as you hold him tight, so tight, and he smiles, one hand coming up to pat your back.

You’re here. You’re here, alive, solid, real. He can feel your warmth against his body, feel your hair tickling his skin.

You may be ethereal. You may be something completely out of this world, beautiful, divine. You may be sparkling, glimmering, brilliant in the morning sunlight. You may be made of stardust, something too perfect (he’ll fight you on that) to exist on earth.

But now, with you wrapped warmly in his arms, Changmin realizes that even though you may be stardust, that doesn’t mean you’re going anywhere.

A tear slips out of his eye as he smiles.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 cheek pinch for changmin idk why I just think that’d be fun <3)

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Alex + Julie "You didn't deserve that... You deserve so much better."

you sent me this prompt a million years ago i'm sorry it took me so long to answer it. warning for friendship breakup angst. there's no carrie redemption arc in this fic but there IS alexjulie friendship.

with love on their throats | g | 1.7k | alex&julie, past julie&carrie

ao3 link in reblogs!

--

Julie doesn’t mean to ignore the boys all afternoon, but Carrie’s birthday was hard last year and so far, this year doesn’t seem to be getting any easier.

She has the foresight to turn her phone off, at least, this year. She can’t handle the social media posts from everyone else at their school. They’re probably in Carrie’s pool, in her kitchen, in her living room. Probably throwing around the throw cushions that Julie’s mom taught her and Carrie to sew covers for when they were ten. Maybe even smashing the glasses Julie used to drink Trevor’s homemade iced tea out of when she would come to visit before Carrie got home from sport in the evenings. The idea of seeing these familiar spaces still just… out there, existing, rather than stuck in the past along with her and Carrie’s friendship, makes Julie nauseous.

Plus, there’s the added bonus of not being able to text Carrie something reckless she might regret.

So her phone’s switched off. Her dad knows not to bother her today anyway, since he had a front-row seat to whole Carrie mess when it happened. He just shot her a sympathetic glance over breakfast and hasn’t spoken to her at all. Carlos is at a friend’s house, and wouldn’t bother her even if he were home.

It’s just the ghosts Julie is avoiding, locked her bedroom door, perched on her window seat with her headphones on, watching YouTube on her laptop.

Which means it scares her half to death when Alex waves a hand in front of her face.

She yanks her headphones off and curses, sharp and a little louder than she means to, and Alex jumps back like he’s been burned. “Julie! Uh, hi, hey. Sorry to scare you.”

“Why didn’t you knock?!” she demands, still breathless. “It’s you, you know better! Boundaries!”

At least Alex has the decency to look shamefaced. “I know, listen, it’s just -- we were worried about you! And we did knock, a lot, actually, but I don’t think you could hear us? So I said we should give you space but Luke and Reg started psyching each other out, and Luke’s never been able to handle space the same way since the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident--”

Which, okay, yeah, that’s fair enough. Julie still shudders at the memory of the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident.

“-- so then I got nominated because, well, Reg worried you might be getting changed or something, and that makes me the obvious choice, not that I wanted to be the obvious choice, just that -- okay, I’m doing a bad job, what I mean is --”

Finally, she decides to put him out of his misery. “Alex, stop. It’s fine.”

Relieved, he lets out a breath and leans on his knees, looking up at her with pretty, apologetic eyes. “Still. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to frighten you, we just… got worried. And wanted to see if you were okay. You’ve been in here all day.”

Julie nods and looks back at her laptop, where the YouTube video is still playing, and pauses it.

She hasn't looked back over at Alex when he says, cautious, "Are you okay?"

When she replies, “Yeah,” it isn’t because she wants to lie to him, necessarily. It’s more because she doesn’t know how to untangle her feelings enough to lay them out in front of him. More because it’s hard to explain why she still misses someone who she knows hurt her, who she knows should have known better.

It’s hard to explain why she feels guilt, and grief, over something she chose to let go.

The window seat dips when he sits down next to her, fingers twisted together in his lap, shoulders rolled forward. He’s offering her the tiniest, encouraging smile in the form of a little quirk at the corner of his mouth. Julie loves him so much that it softens the heartache, just for a moment.

But then it returns. Just as strong. Just as unreasonable. Just as painful.

“It’s Carrie’s birthday,” she tells him, without even knowing why she says it.

“Oh,” he replies, which seems fair. She doesn’t know what she’d say in his position. He chews his lip, a crease forming in his brow. “You guys used to be friends, right?”

God, can she talk about this out loud? It’s easier to joke with Flynn, to make fun of the situation, because Flynn saw it all play out, held Julie when she cried, stopped being friends with Carrie in solidarity. Explaining the situation from start to finish, to someone new, just feels impossible.

So instead she says, “Do you ever miss someone you know you can’t have back? Or not that you can’t. But you know you shouldn’t. You know that you can’t get them back, or you’d have to give up too much for it and it wouldn’t be worth it.”

Because sure, if Julie was really committed, she’s sure she could grovel her way back into Carrie’s inner circle. But as much as she misses her, she’s not prepared to do it.

Alex nods, understanding. “Yeah,” he says plainly. “Yeah, I do. Tons of people.”

Julie’s surprised, but she supposes she shouldn’t be. The boys talk about Alex’s family the way Julie’s mom used to talk about ghosts -- never directly, otherwise they’d hear her and be summoned -- and after the whole thing with Trevor, well. It makes sense.

“Can I get it to stop?” Julie asks. “I had to turn off my phone before I did something stupid like text her. What would I even say? Why would I want to say anything?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. He leans over so their shoulders bump together, and she leans her head on him. “It’s okay to miss her, you know. You guys had good things in your friendship -- I mean, I guess, right? That’s why you miss it?”

Julie nods, closing her eyes. There are so many good memories she doesn’t even know where to start. Running in the park. Sitting at the piano together. Fashion shows for their dads and Julie’s mom in the living room of the Wilsons’ huge house. Sleepovers with Flynn full of bickering and giggling and pillow fights. Birthday parties, their whole lives.

“But that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a good reason for stepping away,” Alex says.

That’s true, too. Julie’s pretty sure they didn’t have that good stuff for a while before their friendship ended, in reality. Carrie was becoming… snappish. Self-absorbed. All she wanted to do was boss the other girls in dance class around, and she didn’t ask to hear Julie’s songs anymore. Julie knew that being a good friend meant weathering the good with the bad, but she gave Carrie what felt like a million chances, and she wasn’t getting anything back. When she’d tried to bring it up to Carrie, things had… exploded.

She explains as much to Alex, in fits and spurts, and finishes with, “She just… blew up at me, she told me she’d been sick of me for ages and asked why I hadn’t noticed. Like I was just supposed to realise that we weren’t friends anymore without her telling me.” Sucking in a shaky breath, she manages, “And then my mom…”

“Oh, Julie,” Alex murmurs softly into her hair. She’s trying not to cry, she really is, but it feels all bubbly at the surface of her chest, and the way he puts an arm around her and squeezes tight shows that he can tell.

“I know it’s silly,” she chokes, “but it feels like we broke up, or something, even though we were just friends. It hurts so much just thinking about her.”

“It’s not silly,” he assures her, and wraps his other arm around her, too, so he’s hugging her close to him with her head against his chest. “There’s nothing less important about friends, and a friendship ending can really suck. Especially how she did it.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, and doesn’t draw attention to the few tears making their way down her cheeks. They sit like that for a moment, then Alex says quietly, “You’re a wonderful friend. You didn’t deserve that. You deserve so much better.”

Sniffling, Julie rubs her sleeve across her eyes, wiping away the tears. The thought dawns on her like the sunrise after a long, sleepless night. “I have so much better,” she realises out loud. “I have Flynn. And Dad and Carlos. And you and Luke and Reggie.”

“We are pretty fantastic,” Alex agrees, faux-smug, but his eyes are still cautious, and affectionate. “But it’s okay to be upset anyway.”

“I know,” she says. And she does. “But I think I’m almost done being upset. For now, at least. Maybe we could run through a few songs?”

“I’m sure the boys would love that,” Alex tells her, smiling, and he goes to stand up but she holds on tighter, so he won’t leave the hug.

He just feels so steady, and comforting, and she’ll never really get over being able to actually hold them. “Can we just. Stay here for a moment, first?”

Easing himself back down, Alex grins and pulls her closer, tucking her head under his chin. “Of course,” Alex says. “We can take as long as you need. Just us, or the others, too?”

She pauses. “The others, too.”

Alex closes his eyes, and Julie knows he’s reaching out to the others, through their one leftover remnant of their time in the afterlife, tugging at their leads until they come to find him. A moment later, Reggie and Luke both pop into presence in the middle of her room, puppy-eyed with worry and hope.

“Julie?” asks Reggie quietly, fiddling with his fingers.

“You good?” Luke asks, on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah,” she tells them. “Just needed a hug.”

Within moments, they’re all around her and Alex, Reggie’s arm around her waist, Luke’s leg somehow, inexplicably, over her lap. Alex makes an insulted noise, but he’s so relaxed, Julie knows he must not mean it. When she presses her ear to his collarbone, Julie can hear his heartbeat, solid and alive, miraculous. Her friend’s heartbeat. Her friends, all around her.

Things are still bittersweet, and it’s still Carrie’s birthday, but Julie is still surrounded by love, enveloped in it, living in it. She can be sad for what’s gone, and be grateful for what she has, at the same time.

[selfpositiveundertale]

Text reads: Scoliosis and other types of spinal curvature can be painful, uncomfortable, and difficult to manage. You might even feel self conscious about your appearance if the curve is very pronounced. Maybe other people act as if you've done something wrong to make your spine that way. Please know that while it may cause quite a lot of suffering, it does not make you any less lovely than you are. It is not a negative reflection of your moral character or your work ethic, and certainly does not reflect laziness on your part, no matter what anyone says. You are good enough, and the condition of your spine does not change that fact.

Oh hey I forgot I made this a while back. I have severe scoliosis and I was feeling really bad about it once day so I made this.

Cw ahead for judgmental people and talk of medical issues caused by my scoliosis, could potentially freak some people out.

Someone once judged me at the age of 11 as being "stuck up" without even speaking to me because of the way I walk(???) until my mother informed them that I walk this way because of my scoliosis. I've had people blame me for having "bad posture" when I can't help the way my shoulders slant. In high school when I was in marching band I frequently got yelled at for not standing correctly when I was doing my best. I've been called lazy and accused of making excuses to get out of things like running laps or doing sit-ups or playing sports, when my chiropractor specifically told me to stop doing such things after all the times I've dislocated a rib or five doing them and gave me a note to excuse me from gym class in high school. He frequently encouraged me to switch instruments in band(I played French horn and he did NOT like me carrying around a heavy instrument case) to something light, like flute or clarinet. I can dislocate ribs just by reaching for something on a shelf over my head, or by laughing too much, or by rolling over in bed. Things many people don't even have to think about, but I have to be constantly aware of my every little action or risk injuring myself in some way because of how my spine curves and twists and pulls everything out of line. Some days I have trouble breathing because my muscles tense up so badly that it constricts me and my ribs won't expand to take a breath until I find a way to relieve the tension. Being on my feet longer than a few minutes causes my back to hurt and it only gets worse until I get off my feet. Sometimes when ribs high up on my back pop out of place, they pull my neck muscles out of whack and cause migraines that are at least 8/10 level pain and last for days until I can get in to see my chiropractor and have him fix me up and put me back together. This is currently happening. My head hurts so bad, my teeth hurt too, and I'm nauseous. I see my chiropractor on Tuesday so I just have to hold out until then. I can take Dramamine(over the counter antiemetic medicine, basically it relieves nausea and prevents vomiting but causes drowsiness, great for long road trips if you tend to get carsick and don't mind sleeping for a few hours during the ride) for the nausea AND it'll knock me out so I can sleep through the pain. I have plenty of Excedrin Migraine even though it only takes the edge off migraines like this. I have herbal teas that help relieve pain. I practically have an arsenal of tools for dealing with headaches since I've been getting them every day and a minimum of a migraine a week for the last 11 years. I can make it two more days.

Anyway, I hope this helps someone else whose spine has some kind of curve or other issue.

[musicallisto]

𓅆 — 𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬; (kaz brekker x reader)

~ 2021 start-of-the-year event ~

anon requested: Can i request number 111 with Kaz Brekker (six of crows) for your event ? song: twenty one pilots - jumpsuit | 𝄞

summary: You had a job to complete, a friend to save, and you were already late.

author notes: you couldn’t have picked a better song for Kaz - it would’ve been insanely tricky to land on something lovey-dovey with how emotionally unavailable he is. but Jumpsuit gave me a load of ideas, and I hope you find this to your liking! this isn’t heavy on the romantic aspect (how could it be with Kaz?), and I think it was better in my head - I’m definitely rusty from not writing -, but I hope you like it nonetheless. word count: 2.0k words (lmfaooo remember when I said these would be 1k) warnings: fighting, guns, knives, explosions, fire, mentions of torture

𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 you been thankful for the insufferable propensity of the Kerch to be loudmouths, especially those the Barrel had spat out. It was a pounding headache waiting to happen when one stumbled upon a bustling square on market day, with harangues flying to and fro, or making one’s way through the shouts of the harbor; but it proved particularly useful when tracking bandits through an unfamiliar mansion.

“Tie him up!”

“Tighter, tighter! Or he’ll try one of his tricks!”

“Not so cocky now, heh, Brekker...”

Readjusting your rifle on your shoulder, you followed the echoes of enthusiastic screams in the labyrinthic halls, steps silent on the perfectly polished floorboards. You could tell the general direction you were to head towards, but the specific layout of the merchant’s house remained unknown to you. Of course, Kaz had refused to show you the plan Wylan had drawn, to test you, perhaps, or simply to relish on the look of utter frustration you gave him, as you often did before he headed out.

“You’ll figure it out,” he had assured, more to himself than to you. “I’m sure you will.”

You always did. Especially when you had to get him out of his messes.

“You’re real quiet now, Brekker. Surely you’ve escaped worse situations.”

“What’s the matter? Black Tips got your tongue, Dirtyhands?”

Kaz, from an indefinite point downstairs, remained completely silent. And you, crossing yet another tastefully decorated corridor, cursed Kerch merchants for their ridiculously huge houses with so ridiculously few staircases.

As you made a sharp turn, breath hitched in your chest as to hear the faintest of noises coming from the Black Tips - or Kaz - downstairs, a somber, tall figure abruptly darkened your field of vision. You flinched, unbalanced for a split second.

“Hey-- Intrud--!”

You were quicker than his cry. The air whistled near your ear. Your blade, fast and true, had chased away the words in his throat. In a swift motion, you pulled the throwing knife out of the gangster’s trembling body before it fell to your feet, and flattened yourself against the cover of the wall until the deafening thunder of your heart subsided. You closed your eyes. Inhaled deeply, silently. Kaz didn’t do with weaklings, even when they were you. Or maybe it was the thought of him restrained under your feet, bare of gloves and cane and knives and tricks, and you failing to get to him on time that made you nauseous. Exhaled silently, deeply. You opened your eyes, swallowed hard, glanced at the ornate clock in front of you.

You had a job to complete, a friend to save, and you were already late.

“I’m not sure how many of them there will be. Some might patrol upstairs.”

“If you’re so sure that this is an ambush, why are you so keen on going?”

He had stared at you as though his train of thought was self-evident. He expected it to be to you at least, after all these years. And yet, after all these years, it wasn’t. Even less so to you.

“Because I need that contract, Y/N, and a handful of Black Tips will certainly not stand in my way. I don’t trust anyone else with stealing those papers.”

“And you think you can get in and out of there unnoticed when they’re going precisely for you?”

You had stared at him as though your train of thought was self-evident. Were your despicably misty eyes not enough? You were worried for the illustrious Kaz Brekker, and that was your deadliest sin.

“I never said I was going in alone. I don’t trust anyone to steal for me... but I trust you enough to shoot for me.”

Eventually, your feet led you to the grand staircase, almost on instinct, and you let out a sigh of relief. Without missing a beat, you ran past it, to the opposite end of the main hall; it wouldn’t be long before the body was noticed and the Black Tips were plunged in a state of alarm. You refused to think of what they would do to Kaz if they caught wind of one of his Dregs coming to save him. Of his most loyal Dreg.

You didn’t know well the exact layout of the house, but for all their outrageous wealth, Kerch merchants did not do well with originality. Mansions outside of Ketterdam all had the same patio right next to the stairs, easily accessible via a windowed gallery. In less than an instant, you were on the railing, overlooking the paved courtyard. The bitter air of the winter evening bit your cheeks, lips, and knuckles, but you barely felt it as you crouched behind the railing. There, two stories high and under the declining sun’s vigilant eye, you glanced over the rusty railing.

As your eyes took in the scene below, your grip on the butt of your rifle tightened.

Three thickset silhouettes, covered in black leather from head to toe, surrounded a fourth figure slumped on a chair, a paper bag shoved on its face and its wrists firmly tied behind its back. You stifled a tremor. His cane was nowhere to be seen, no doubt discarded somewhere in the shadows by a malign kick, but the shoulders, the crinkled black ascot tie barely visible under his slouched head, the impeccably clean gloves were unmistakable.

He must’ve had a plan. An umpteenth trick in mind, a fifth ace up his sleeve. Kaz Brekker bowed his head to no one.

You took a deep breath to stabilize your trembling hand and raised your rifle at eye level. From beneath, a resounding laugh, greasy like the filth floating in the air of the Barrel, rattled your chest. You forced it out of your mind, a blank slate. You were Kaz’s fifth ace.

“The boss wants you alive, but he can’t fault us for wanting to play a little with great Kaz Brekker,” the Black Tip closest to Kaz purred. A shrieking of wood and a muffled groan signaled he had forcefully grabbed the chair. “Whatever shall we do to the Barrel’s golden bastard, hm?”

On the westernmost corner of the courtyard, to your left, a fourth guard remained still, cloaked in shadow. Next to him, right behind one of the supporting pillars of the structure, a nook in the wall; your target. An impossible shot, from where you were crouched, and exactly why you would attempt it.

A little bit to your right, almost imperceptible in the dust and shadows of the courtyard, a reddish light blinked like a sparkling eye. An explosive device. Kaz’s last instruction to you.

Immediately beneath you, the three thugs closing in on Kaz; the tallest one pulling a knife from his boot and grabbing the boy’s wrists.

“What do you think the Barrel will do without its dirty hands? Will it bleed to death slowly?”

Your eye rose to the gun sight, your finger to the trigger, the barrel to the fourth hidden bandit. Under your fingertips, the rifle vibrated in unison with your steady breathing. Carefully, you missed the shot.

Chaos then bloomed like an exploding flower. An incoherent yell erupted from your missed target’s throat before he leveled his gun at the railing behind which you were cowered, then to his stunned gangmates... finally to the railing immediately in front of him, to your right, the only sensible place where the shot could’ve come from.

“Hey! There’s someone up there!”

“Get them!”

An impossible shot from an impossible angle... none you couldn’t make nonetheless.

With your eye still pressed to the scope of the gun, you watched as the goon ran through the courtyard, towards his believed attacker... and the handmade bomb on the floor, taunting you with its red glint. In the corner of your eye, Kaz flung himself to the side, away from the blast. At the same moment, your bullet detonated the explosive.

You opened your eyes and uncovered your ears a split second later to a spectacle of fury and fire. Ash and screams soared high in the night sky, clawing at your exposed hands. Biting back a cough and a few tears, you risked a glance at the courtyard below. Consumed in flames, it seemed as though it would soon swallow the charred bodies and wreckage alike. And yet, clear as day amidst the inferno, your mind was settled on one thing and one thing only; Kaz, lying on the ground and struggling against his bonds.

You leaped back inside the building and took a big gulp of fresh air. You were no Wraith; jumping directly into the courtyard would break both your legs, but you were cunning and fast all the same. You’d find the inside access to the patio, save Kaz and escape from the window you’d come in before the confusion died down. You couldn’t fail him. You couldn’t fail yourself.

You grabbed the railing of the staircase, blind and deaf to the screams outside and the pounding of your nerves. Precisely as you were about to run downstairs, distinct footsteps echoed behind you, and the hairs on your neck bristled. You whirled around an instant after grabbing your throwing knife, and readied it at your assailant... two fierce eyes, black as coal in the dim light, that surprise overtook for an instant.

“Easy, Y/N. I know you could, but maybe refrain from slitting my throat.”

Unfamiliar clothes, those usually worn by the Black Tips...  gloveless hands, black with soot and grime... but this unwavering gaze fixated on you, this unmistakable confidence in the posture and slightly lifted chin, despite the limp... you lowered your knife, frowning.

“Kaz? How did you--”

The words died in your throat as you glanced at the smoke rising from the courtyard, then your friend standing unscathed in front of you, and a sudden wave, both relief and admiration, washed over you. You almost could have laughed.

“Come on,” he ordered, face composed as ever. “Let’s get Barend out of there before he roasts to death.”

“I thought...” I thought they would cut your hands off. I thought they would skin you alive. I thought I’d have to watch it all. I thought I wouldn’t get to you on time. I thought I’d lose you. “Ghezen, he’s so convincing as you. You owe him more than a beer when we get back.”

“I don’t owe anything to anyone. All he did was not disappoint me. But...”

His mouth half-open led you to believe, perhaps mistakenly, that he would say something. Outside, the noise and smoke and world breathed peacefully, as though you were shrouded in a diffuse mist.

“You’re the best shot I know, no matter what Jesper says. I didn’t doubt you for a second.”

Kaz lifted a hand, almost to graze your shoulder... and as quickly as he had appeared, he pulled back with a grimace.

“Catch,” he ordered, all trace of warmth in his tone now gone. “Maybe someone should tell these merchants that chimneys are not the most original place to stash their valuables.”

You caught the purse he threw at you without a word, still short of breath. From the fire, from the relief, from the split second of ravishing tenderness you saw in his eyes, or maybe from all those at once. The leather pouch, heavy in your palm, shimmered with golden hues; yet when you looked up and held Kaz’s gaze for a fraction of a second, you knew you would have traded all the coins and jewels in your hand for his instead, with soot and grime and glove.

“Let’s go.”

The oily lamps in the corridor cast two shadows against the walls, standing shoulder to shoulder, breathing in synchronization. Then a tongue of fire danced against the window, covering the two silhouettes. When it washed away, and only moonlight remained, the monster of the Barrel and his fifth ace were long gone.

[alt-rose]

take a break | colson baker

colson baker imagine

take a break - you’re studying for the MCAT, and he reminds you of the importance of selfcare.

warnings: none? language? school stress? 

it wasn’t unusual for Colson’s living room to be a mess. from all the ragers that he’s thrown to the guys’ weekly get together, the living room was bound to be trashed. empty bottles and glasses usually littered every surface with rolling papers and ash spread thoroughly in between.

however, the mess that currently inhabited the living room was not Colson or the guys’ doing. it was yours. you had taken over the living room, claiming it as your study zone.

you were currently studying for the MCAT, which you were taking in a few weeks. Colson had been so supportive when you decided to visit him during the important time in your academic career, and you were only asking for a few hours a day to yourself so that you could study for your upcoming test. you promised that you would spend the rest of your time with him since you were spending your spring break camped out at his place and would eventually need to head back to school.

he was so proud of you, and he was incredibly impressed with your work ethic. applying to medical school was not an easy feat, and you had worked your ass off to get to where you are today, which is something that he could relate to.

so, Colson let you trash his living room. he had banished the guys from his house for the duration of your break (or at least, kept them out of your study zone), and he even cleared out when you had planned to study, usually spending his time in the studio working on his next album.

when he was gone, you spent your day drowning in study guides and practice tests. your papers were sprawled out on the living room floor as you used the coffee table as your desk. you had pens and highlighters buried within the mess. you had your textbooks cracked open to whatever page that you had frantically flipped to when you couldn’t remember something. mugs with day-old coffee and empty fruit snack pouches were abandoned on the end tables by the couch.

it was safe to say that you absolutely destroyed his living room.

--

             “I’m going to head to the studio for a few hours.”

peering up from your place on the floor, you watched as Colson zipped up his jacket and shoved his wallet and keys into his pockets.

             “text me if you need anything?” he suggested before making his way over to you, leaning down to plant a kiss on the top of your head.

             “sure,” you murmur before pulling him down to kiss his cheek.

             “don’t study too hard,” he joked, earning a stressed laugh from you.

the both of you knew that asking you not to study hard was like asking you not to breathe. both are necessary for your survival.

after he left, you decided to use the silence to your advantage, and you began to take another practice exam. that exam then turned into taking another exam when you didn’t score as well as you had hoped, and then you were spiraling.

you scoured your study guides and notes to review the material you had missed. your eyes were burning from the strain, and your head was beginning to pound. you were digging yourself a hole in your insecurities. you had broken down into tears twice now from the stress. you were dizzy and nauseous from forgetting to eat; not that you really had the stomach for it right now anyway. you don’t even remember the last time you got up to use the bathroom.

when Colson came home after 9 hours at the studio, he found you in the same position that you were in when he left. you were hunched over your books. your blue light glasses had slid down your nose, and your hair was a mess. leaving you to finish whatever you were working on, he made his way to the kitchen to clean up whatever mess that you had left him, only to find that there were no dishes in the sink. the kitchen hadn’t been touched since that morning.

             “hey,” he began as he made his way back to the living room. “did you eat anything today?”

you only hummed a response as you flipped through one of your notebooks, completely ignoring him. finding what you were looking for, you jotted a note down on one of your study guides.

             “hey,” Colson tried to get your attention once more as he took a seat on the floor across the table from you. he watched your eyes flick up to him briefly before they directed their attention back to the work in front of you. “dude.”

             “Col, give me a minute to finish this up, and I’ll talk to you then,” you snap at him as you take a few more notes.

Colson let out a sigh as he watched you go back and forth from your notebook to your textbook. he chose to sit and scroll through twitter while he waited for you to finish, but after 20 minutes had passed, he knew that you weren’t going to stop anytime soon.

             “jesus,” he muttered to himself as he put his phone down on top of some of your papers on the table. “have you taken a break at all today? have you eaten? looked out a window?”

you scoffed at him.

             “I don’t have time for breaks, Colson,” you said coldly. “I have to study because I have to take this test in a few weeks – a test, might I add, that will define my future – and I am not even remotely prepared for it. my practice scores are decreasing. I can’t remember any of this material. my notes are shit. and, I am going to fucking fail, which means I am not going to get into medical school, and all of my years of working my ass off in school will mean absolutely nothing. I cannot just take a break when I have everything at stake here.”

you both took a beat. you were taken aback by your sudden outburst. yeah, you meant every word of it, but you hadn’t meant for it to come out so harshly. and, you definitely didn’t mean to snap at Colson, who had been so supportive of your goals from the beginning. he was kind of shocked by your snappy attitude.

             “I understand,” he broke the silence. “I understand that you are really stressed, and I know that you have a lot of pressure on you. I just want to help, and I think taking an hour to eat and do something other than tear apart your notes would help.” he gently placed his hand on top of yours. “it’s late. I’m tired. you have to be tired. let’s call it a night. I’ll make you something to eat, and then you can turn your brain off for a few hours. killing yourself over this work won’t improve your scores-”

             “Colson,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away from him. “I just need to review a bit more.”

             “no,” he said sternly. “you need to rest. self-care and all that shit is just as important as studying.” he stood up from his spot on the floor, now towering over you. “come on, get up.” you gave him an annoyed look, practically telling him to F off. “no, come on, don’t give that shit. get up.”

he moved to your side of the table, and he pulled you up from the floor, despite your protests. to keep you from running back to your work, he threw you over his shoulder, and you yelped from surprise.

             “put me down,” you whine, pounding your fists on his back. “you’re being a jerk.”

Colson carried you up the stairs toward his bedroom before finally setting you down in his ensuite. you landed on your feet quite ungracefully, only for Colson to pick you back up to place you on the counter. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. you glared while Colson silently challenged you to make a run for it.

he raised an eyebrow at you once he was sure you would stay before turning to the bathtub. he turned the water on and waited for it to heat up before stopping the drain.

when he finally turned back to you, he found you slumped over with your eyes fixated on the floor, as if you were trying to micro nap while you waited. he suddenly felt less confident in leaving you to take a relaxing bath alone while he fixed you up something to eat, now knowing that you were on the verge of sleep.

gently placing a hand on your cheek, he moved to hold you close while the tub began to fill. he rested his chin on the top of your head while you tucked yourself into his chest.

             “was gonna leave you to take a bath, but I don’t want to leave you to drown in the tub if you’re going to fall asleep on me,” he murmured into your hair.

you let out a tired (and slightly loopy) laugh.

             “you might have to join me,” you murmur into his shoulder.

             “okay.”

with that, he moved to pull out two towels and dropped some fancy bath salts into the tub before finally moving to help you off the counter. he helped you slip out of your clothes before moving to undress himself, and then the two of you climbed into the tub together.

you sat with your back resting against his chest, and your head was resting against his shoulder. he let you close your eyes for a few minutes, allowing you to take a small nap. while you laid against him with your eyes closed, he gently ran a soapy washcloth against your skin to wipe away the fact that you hadn’t showered in at least two days.

             “still with me?” Colson hummed lightly.

you nodded against his chest.

             “do you want me to wash your hair?”

             “yes, please.”

Colson’s heart melted at how small your voice sounded. wordlessly, he gently moved you forward so that he could rinse and wash your hair with the detachable showerhead. you rested between his knees while he ran his hands through your hair. you were seconds from falling asleep, his motions slowly luring you to sleep. once he was finished with you, he let you rest your head against his propped-up knee while he quickly rinsed and washed himself.

he watched you carefully as he moved to unplug the drain and to hang up the showerhead before gently running a hand over your cheek. you opened your eyes at his touch.

             “ready to get out?” he asked softly, only receiving a sleepy nod from you.

he got out first, quickly wrapping a towel around his waist before holding your towel out for you. you stepped into the towel and let him wrap you up. after taking a minute to dry off, Colson grabbed the robe he got for you the last time you came to visit, and he wrapped it around you after taking your towel to expertly wrap your wet hair up in it.

you sat on the bathroom counter, slowly doing your skin care routine while he took a moment to dry himself off and put on a pair of boxers.

“you okay if I go fix you up something to eat?” Colson asked from the doorway, watching you apply your moisturizer.

“I’m okay,” you give him a small smile. “thanks, Cols.”

once you were finished, you dragged yourself to his bed, still wrapped in your robe with no motivation to put your pajamas on. you curled up against the pillows, letting yourself rest your eyes for a moment, while you waited for Colson.

             “I made you a sandwich.”

you opened your eyes to find Colson kneeling on the bed next to you with a plate in his hand. you move to sit up to let him lean against the pillows next to you.

             “you’re a saint,” you laugh lightly as you lean into his side.

             “hardly a saint,” he laughed back at you as he handed you half of your sandwich while he grabbed half of his.

             “a god?” you suggest taking the sandwich from him.

             “maybe.” he raised his slice to you. “cheers.”

             “cheers,” you laugh as you bump your sandwich against his. you took a moment to take your first bite. “oooo,” you call to him covering you mouth as you finish your bite. “you’re an angel. that’s what you are?”

             “alright, you noob, knock it off,” he smiled at you. “if anyone’s an angel here, it’s you.”

             “yeah, yeah, okay, you sap,” you nod back him before taking a bite.

the two of you let a comfortable silence fall over you as you finished your sandwiches. once you were both finished, Colson placed the plate on his nightstand before turning his attention back to you, only to find you already tucked under the covers. following you, he slipped under the covers before situating himself comfortably on his pillows. he pulled you into his chest, and you rested your head on his chest.

             “thank you,” you murmur.

             “for what?” he lightly stroked your damp hair.

             “you always take care of me. I love you for that.”

             “I’ll always take care of my girl.”

you lightly ran a hand up his arm, tracing his tattoos.

             “you’re going to be a great doctor one day-”

             “Cols,” you sigh with a defeated feeling sinking into your chest.

             “I mean it,” he told you. “you’re so smart, and I know this is a really stressful time for you, and it’s really difficult for you, but I know you’re going to do great on your test. you’ve been studying nonstop for weeks. you know you’re prepared, and I know it may not feel like it because you’ve been taking so many practice tests and stuff, but I think a break would do you some good. you need a fresh start. get out of your head for a bit, you know? take a day to get out and have fun, and then you can go back to studying for the rest of the break.”

             “Cols.”

             “spend the day with me tomorrow. we can go to the beach, or we can go hiking, or shopping, or anything you want to do. let me get you out of this house.”

you let out a sigh, taking a moment to think. he wasn’t wrong. you needed to get out, and you needed a break.

             “okay,” you sigh into his chest.

             “good,” he smiled to himself as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. “now sleep.”

             “don’t have to tell me twice,” you laugh lightly before nuzzling yourself into his chest so that you weren’t putting any strain on your neck. he reached a hand up and turned off the lamp, and darkness fell on both of you. “hey Cols?”

             “hmmm?”

             “I love you.”

             “I love you too, (Y/N/N).”

.

.

.

hope you enjoyed! i took a break from some schoolwork to finish this piece. college is hard, my dudes. feel free to send requests! - rose xx

[halstudandruz]

Give In

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: Tragedy occurs after a night of passion

Warnings: swearing, talk of mentally abusive relationship, miscarriage/pregnancy loss

“Don’t come crying to me when you need support for that mistake.” Jared scoffed, bringing tears to your eyes at his words.

“I should’ve never come here.” You shook your head, “I should’ve listened to Jay.” You put your hand over your stomach protectively.

“Oh here we go again. Because Jay knows everything, and I’m supposed to believe that’s my kid and not his in there? Spare me.” He laughed in your face.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you I haven’t slept with him.” You yelled, getting angrier by the second.

“At least I can admit I fucked Sarah.” He shrugged.

“Well, I caught you so it’s not like you had an opportunity to lie.” You reminded him.

“I was doing perfectly fine the last 4 months. I must say though, I’m quite glad I won’t have to sit here and watch you get any fatter.” He smirked, a cocky look on his face. Trying to hurt you with his words.

“You’re such a jackass. I’m done with this.” You turned walking out of your once shared apartment, slamming the door behind you.

Jay had told you not to go there. Told you it would end bad, but you thought he deserved to know. He might’ve been a terrible boyfriend, but you figured he deserved a chance to be a decent father, but as always Jay was right. You and Jared had been together for over a year and your relationship was a rollercoaster. He was charming, but manipulative. He never hurt you physically, but he knew all the right ways to hurt you with his words, to make you feel self conscious, less than, and crazy. Then you found him in bed with your old friend, and that was the end of it. You finally had the courage to leave that you had been searching for. Except a couple months later you made the mistake of spending the night with him. The case you had that week really got to you. You were out drinking with your team when you caught Jay leaving with a nurse from Chicago Med, and jealousy reared its ugly head harder than ever before. Without thinking you ended up in front of your old apartment and the night did not end there. A month later you found out you were pregnant. Karma’s a bitch. Jay was the first person you told.

“You’re joking.” He looked at you shocked as you both stood in the break room.

“Believe me I wish I was.” You looked helplessly at him.

“Okay well what are you going to do?” He eventually asked after the shock wore off some.

“I’m gonna go apartment hunting this week. I swear I’ll be out soon.” You answered.

“What? No that’s not what I meant. I meant about the douchebag of the equation.” He explained.

“I mean I have to tell him.” You answered.

“What? No you don’t. You shouldn’t.” He countered.

“It’s his too Jay.” You tried to reason.

“[Y/N], if you go over there it’s going to end one of two ways. He somehow manipulates you into forgiving him or he hurts you worse than he already has.” He argued.

“So what am I supposed to do? Just lie to my kid when they’re old enough to ask questions?” You said.

“When did this even happen? You’ve been broken up for over a mon-“ He started to ask, but Adam interrupted your conversation peeking his head in.

“Hey, uh, sorry to interrupt,” he looked between you two suspiciously, “but we got a ping on Rudder’s phone.” He informed you guys as you followed him out the door.

You and Jay had been partners for 3 years. He was very standoffish when you first started. You were informed through the grapevine his last partner had left him and moved to New York. So, he had every right to be skeptical, but your relationship eventually progressed and you had a dynamic unlike any other. However, you were also like any other girl that came into contact with the younger Halstead, taken back by his good looks and determined yet soft nature, but he was just your partner. You worked together. You couldn’t get involved, and he was going through a rough break up. It wasn’t fair to try anything. Unfortunately, that didn’t lessen your attraction any further and it only got worse as your relationship developed.

Jay had offered to let you move in with him after you had caught Jared. You planned on finding an apartment right away, but things kept getting in the way and Jay wasn’t trying to push you out the door. Walking into his apartment you laid your keys on the stand hanging up your purse and coat before walking further in to find Jay sitting on the couch watching TV. Turning to face you he sighed immediately getting up to hug you, no words needing to be spoken. The anger finally took over showing itself by the tears that began to soak Jay’s neck. Eventually you gathered yourself moving to sit by him on the couch.

“I should’ve listened to you.” You laughed attempting to wipe the tears off your face. A small smile appeared on Jay’s lips as he shook his head.

“No, you shouldn’t have. You were right. This baby deserves the best life ever, and it wouldn’t have been fair to them if you didn’t give him a choice.” He said, hand tickling your stomach, making it flip at his touch.

“I just wish he made the right one.” You admitted, laughing.

“You deserve better. I’ve been telling you that since day one. I hated seeing how he treated you, how he changed you. You’ve always been too good for him, and you deserve someone who gives you and this little peanut the world.” He replied.

“Why can’t it be you?” You said after a few minutes of silence.

“What?” He looked at you confused, eyebrows scrunched.

“Do you know how this happened?” You gestured to your stomach.

“Of course I know how it happened.” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“No,” you shook your head adjusting yourself, “I mean do you know when this happened?” You reiterated.

“No. I didn’t want to pry.” He admitted.

“It was the night Hazel stayed over.” You explained, and guilt flushed over his face.

“[Y/N], I told you I was sorry about that. This is your apartment now too. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or feel like you couldn’t come home.” He started to apologize, making you laugh.

“No, Jay. I didn’t want to come home because I was jealous.” You said waiting for it to click.

“Jealous of what?” He looked even more confused making you frustrated.

“Oh my god Jay. Of you and her! Of you with her!” You huffed throwing your hands in the air. Taking a deep breath you shook your head, “I just didn’t want to come back and see her here, or god forbid hear her. When all I wanted was to be the one in your room.” You admitted getting nauseous at the thought of them together.

“I don’t know what to say.” He sighed after a few minutes of grappling within his own head.

“Oh god. I’m sorry I should’ve never said anything.” Your embarrassment took over, feeling your face turn red you moved to stand up and hurry out of the room, but he pulled you back down beside him, closer this time.

“No. Don’t be. It’s just...I wish it was as easy as that. Believe me I do..” He said, breath noticeably quickening at the thought.

“It can be.” You replied after a couple seconds of intense silence.

“[Y/N], we work together, we’re partners, you’re having someone else’s baby. There’s a lot of factors.” He explained, but you could tell he was trying to convince himself.

“Do you want this as bad as I do?” You asked gently, resting your hand on his, but he stayed quiet. “Just for one night. Can’t we just give into ourselves for one night?” You bargained your face inching closer with each thought, “if you don’t want this I promise I’ll go to bed now and we can never speak of this again.” You stopped a few inches from his face refusing to make the move. The decision was in his hands now. His eyes searched your face, breathing heavy, and you watched the moment his resolve gave away, throwing caution to the wind and groaning a quiet,

“[Y/N].” Before he closed the distance his lips meeting yours in an urgency you had never felt before.

You were woken up by a sharp pain in your stomach. Turning to roll on your back you collided with warm skin, belonging to someone who grunted pulling you closer with the arm wrapped around your waist. Remembering who it was you felt a small smile appear on your lips, but it was stolen away by another pain radiating from your abdomen. Wincing you gently lifted Jay’s arm attempting to slide out from under it, brain registering the wetness you felt between your legs. Jesus, you liked him and all, but you figured you could control yourself a little instead of waking up completely ready to go again. Shaking your head you slipped off the bed, the liquid between your legs growing, becoming a little too prominent with the accompanied pains. “Jay.” you croaked out voice hoarse, terror immediately coming to surface as the red came into view. He didn’t stir. “Jay!” You tried again bracing yourself against the bed as a dizziness started to swirl in your mind. At your insistence he grunted eyes slowly opening.

“[Y/N]?” He asked blinking and attempting to reach for where you lay minutes prior.

“Jay, somethings wrong.” You began to cry, panic obvious in your voice by the quivering, but trying not to scare him. You watched as his awareness finally clicked seconds later, sitting straight up in bed looking from the blood stained sheet to you. Another cramp hitting, this time making you fall to your knees just as Jay reached you, pulling you back up in his arms. Somehow throwing a shirt on in the process.

“Alright come on I got you. It’s alright baby. You’re okay.” He hurriedly helped you put shorts on as you had only been sporting his shirt from the night before. Cradling you in his arms, running down to his truck, and burning tire towards the hospital, lights and sirens echoing in the background while he weaved through traffic, pulling up to the doors of Chicago Med not too long after. Your head was shoved in his chest breathing through the pain. You felt lightheaded barely aware of all that was happening as you heard Jay yelling for a nurse before sitting you down in a wheelchair.

“I’m assuming you’re the father? Otherwise we can’t permit you-“ The nurse began to ask, even more panic taking over at the thought of being alone before you heard Jay answer with a simple,

“Yes.” After a few tests were done your suspicions were confirmed. You had lost the baby, and you didn’t know how to feel. Jay climbed into bed beside you pulling you into his chest letting the sobs soak his shirt while he rubbed you back, “I’m so sorry. I’m right here though, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here. It’s all going to be okay.” He promised kissing your head, and if it wasn’t for the man holding you, you weren’t sure if you ever would’ve believed that.

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[writingfromkitchenator]

Gabriel ~ Karma

Alphabet Challenge Masterlist (700 Followers)

Masterlist

Based on imagine found here by @spn-imagines-nation

Words: 1,617

Warnings: Female Reader, family fighting, mild angst, fluff, making out

Sam was looking at you guilty, while Dean just sat there looking unimpressed.  You were breathing hard, having just yelled at them, your face flush with anger, your hands clenched by your side, and you hated was that all you could smell was the stale air of the motel room.

“Well?”  You snapped.

“Well what?”  Dean asked.  “You really expect us to answer that after you just blew up in our faces?”

Your stomach boiled in anger, making you feel slightly nauseous.  “Do you two care about my privacy at all?”

“Of course we do,” Sam said quickly, earning an eye roll from Dean.  “We’re just trying to be careful at the moment because of-”

“Bullshit!”  You snapped.  “You’re being as overbearing and protective as you’ve always been!  I hunt with you for fucks sake!  I’ve taken down werewolves and vampires and demons! I think I can handle my own fucking personal affairs when it comes to guys!”

“We know that,” Dean shrugged.  “But you’re still forbidden from sleeping with any of them.”

Dean was so lucky in that moment that he was your brother, otherwise you had little doubt you would’ve done something far worse that call him several less than pleasant names before storming from the room and slamming the door after you.  They tried to call after you, tried to chase after you, but you were far quicker than either of them.

When you’d finally stopped running, and your heart had stopped pounding in your ears over the effort and your anger, you kept walking, kicking a stone along the ground, muttering under your breath.  The nerve of the two of them to be involved in your personal affairs when you ensured you more than stayed clear of theirs was astounding.  To go into your private things too!  It wasn’t like you didn’t know how to take care of yourself.

“I was starting to wonder whether something had happened.”

You sighed, running your hand through your hand as you stopped, having completely forgotten about what you’d been getting ready for when you had found your brothers in your things.  “I’m sorry Gabe.  I just…I just had a massive fight with Sam and Dean, made me completely forget about things.”

Gabriel smiled and shrugged, wrapping an arm around your shoulders so the two of you could walk together.  “That’s alright sugar, I know how family can get.  Are you alright?”

“No,” You huffed, staring at your feet.  “I may as well be grounded again, like some damned teenager.  I really think you were right when you said I should set out off on my own.”

He gave your shoulders a slight squeeze.  “Hey now, don’t go making rash decisions when you’re emotional, that’s for those two to do. I’m not saying not to get away from them of course, but make sure you think it over properly.  I don’t want to be responsible for throwing you to the wolves.”

You give him a sidelong look.  “I thought that’s what you were for?”

Gabriel chuckled, his eyes twinkling at you.  “I’m there to protect you from said wolves’ sugar, not hand you over to them.  I wouldn’t have asked you on a date if I was just going to do that now, would I?”

Smiling, you shook head. “Sorry about ruining it.”

“Ruining it?”  Gabriel scoffed.  “Are we not on a nice romantic stroll right now?”

“I’d hardly call it romantic when I’m upset and you’re comforting me,” You said, a little bitterly. “Believe it or not Gabe, I was actually really looking forward to tonight.  We both know that we’re been dancing around this for a long time.”

Gabriel’s step faltered for a moment before he sighed, smiling at you affectionately.  “And here I thought that you hadn’t noticed.  Well, I guess we’re just going to have to make it up to each other, huh?”

You returned his smile and kissed his cheek softly.  “Yeah, I can do that.”

As his cheeks flushed, an idea came to him, one that he knew would make you feel better, a grin coming to him as his eyes sparked mischievously.  “Oh, I have just the thing sugar.  It’s going to get a little revenge on those brothers of yours too.”

You didn’t ask many questions, you decided it was better not to, putting all your trust into whatever Gabriel told you to do the next day.  You weren’t talking to your brothers, but you still went along with them as you began tracking down a few witnesses for the latest hunt.  Dean seemed unperturbed, but Sam kept glancing between the two of you, as if wanting to say something that might return some peace to your small family.

Eventually, several witnesses later, and it led the three of you to a bar, where another had agreed to meet you, and you were tasked with getting drinks.

As you waited for the bar tender, someone slid in next to you.  “You’re looking a little lonely there.”

A retort was quickly lost on your tongue as you looked at Gabriel, having expected anyone else, but now you suddenly knew why he asked you to keep him up to date of your movements for the day.

He was waiting for the perfect opportunity.

You smirked.  “Lonely is not exactly the word I would use.”

Gabriel winked at you, his grin widening.  “Well, I’m sure I could fix that.”

A small curl of nervousness washed over you.  “They don’t know it’s you?”

He shook his head.  “As far as they are concerned, I’m just a very good looking stranger.”

“Uh huh,” You giggled a little, ignoring the bar tender as the drinks were placed in front of you, your entire attention on the angel.  “Well, I’m glad I can still see you properly then, because I much prefer you like this.”

Gabriel beamed.  “Come here then sugar.”

Sam and Dean had quite successfully been talking to the witness, completely distracted by it until Dean went to take a drink from the drink he didn’t have.  He frowned, realising you hadn’t come back yet and instantly looked around for you, Sam quickly realising the same.

“Oi!”

Gabriel’s arm had pulled you close, wrapping securely around your waist, his other hand resting on the back of your neck.  Your hands were bunched into his shirt, holding him as close as possible, and right in that very moment, the prank itself didn’t even matter.

The two of you had kissed before but nothing was comparing to this.

It was hungrier than the two of you had originally intentioned, lips moving together effortlessly, tongues teasing the others, and even as commotion broke out near you, neither of you could find it in yourselves to care.

At least until Dean’s fist made contact with Gabriel’s jaw.

“Dean!”  You screamed and quickly stood in the way, not allowing him to get any closer as Gabriel rubbed his jaw, still looking no less amused at the fury in the Winchester’s expression.

“Keep your hands of my sister,” Dean growled, his eyes flashing dangerously.  “And I suggest leaving now.”

Gabriel shrugged.  “If I go, she goes.  The two of you did interrupt our date last night after all.  We were simply trying to catch up for lunch.”

Dean’s narrowed on him. “Who the hell do you think you are? You will stay-”

“You will stop butting in!” You snapped, squaring off to Dean as his eyes locked onto you.  “I have a right to be happy Dean.”

Dean stared at you for a long moment, a lot of things suddenly going on behind his eyes, Sam gently resting a hand on his shoulder.  “Come on dude, leave her be.  Let her have this.”

There was a tense moment as Dean still doesn’t move, before he grunts, and grabbed the drinks that you’d all but forgotten about.  “You could’ve at least brought our drinks over first.”

Sam grimaces and gives you a nod, before hurrying after him, noise slowly returning to the bar, making you huff.

Gabriel chuckled as his arm returned around your waist, his lips pressed against your ear.  “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

You let him lead you and once the two of you were well out of earshot and eyeshot, Gabriel started laughing.  You knew you should be too, but you couldn’t help but stare at the red mark on his jaw.

“Are you alright?” You asked, making him stop and look at you, smiling.

“Of course I am,” Gabriel pulled you to him, kissing your forehead.  “I’m an archangel Y/N.  It takes much more than a punch, even from Dean Winchester, to even wound me.”

You finally sighed and smiled.  “I have to admit, that was not the reaction I was expecting.”

His eyes shone, even as he beamed.  “No, but it worked.  Damned good dose of karma for them.”

You chuckled and nodded. “I wouldn’t call it karma, but I suppose seeing your sister making out with someone will have some sort of lasting effect, no matter how much they try and forget it.”

Gabriel winked at you. “Shall we go somewhere private and continue that lovely session?”

Heat flushed your cheeks, even as you laughed.  “Is that the date make up is it?”

“Something like that.”

You shook your head, still smiling, taking his hand.  “Sam and Dean are going to be so angry over this.”

Gabriel shrugged.  “It doesn't matter, what does, is that they will remember.  Remember not to mess with my girl, that is.”

Smiling, you kissed his cheek again, making him beam and quickly lean in to capture your lips again, the two of you almost instantly disappearing.