#have had a panic attack that keeps coming back bc i keep thinking its a heart attack

[freakinflipflop]

Whoever designed panic attacks to have very similar symptoms to heart attacks? TERRIBLE design flaw

[forever-rogue]

Hellooo 😄 I love your blog and your fics so much! You’re very very talented and you’re feeding my tlou clown brain lmao. If you’re still taking requests for Joel, I think a fic with joel fussing over his shy girl after a close call with a clicker would be super cute. He’d be super worried and she would be the one doing the comforting bc dammit he’s lost so much already almost losing her leaves him emotional.

AN | Aww, but I love this. Just a whole lot of fluff and sweetness! 

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language; TLOU typical violence

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were trying your best to be as quiet as possible, which happened to be quite a challenge when you were walking through the woods. It was impossible to know exactly what was lying ahead, so all you could was to be as alert and cautious as possible, 

And you were positive that you were doing a good job…until you stepped on a thick branch and it snapped loudly under your feet. You swallowed thickly as you froze, looking around wildly to make sure nothing heard you or decided to come out and attack you. You know, just the average afternoon in this world.

As you got ready to move on, deciding that nothing was coming after you, the unmistakable sound of a clicker. You were trying to decide if you should run away in panic, call for Joel, or try and handle it on your own. 

In the midst of your dilemma, the clicker made its appearance and was running towards at a speed that it really shouldn’t have possessed. Fuck. 

Your shaking hand was reaching for the knife that was strapped to your thigh as you tried to walk backwards. But, as fortune would have it, your foot caught on a tree root and you tripped over it, stumbling and landing on your back. It was rapidly lunging at you and your first instinct was to hold up the knife and wave it around to try and get a good stab in. 

But before you even had to worry about attempting to stab its brain, a gunshot rang out. The frantic scrambling of the clicker ceased and it crumbled to the ground, landing on your feet. Your entire body was shaking as you scrambled out from under its grasp, dropping the knife as you tried to keep the tears from spilling over and crying out loud.

“Honey,” you heard Joel’s voice before you saw him. At this point, your tears pearled up and ran down your cheeks as he dropped to his knees and looked you over. There was nothing but pure worry on his face as he looked you over. You shook your head, silently letting him know that you were okay and had escaped unscathed, “are you okay? What happened?”

“I-I’m okay,” you promised in between sniffles as he took your face in his hands and gently brushed your tears away, “I stepped on a branch and it heard me and then came at me so fast. I tripped over a root a-and it was coming at me. You saved me.”

“Shhh,” he gently shushed you as he pulled you into his arms, hugging onto you tightly as you melted into his arms, “you’re okay. I’ve got you - I’ve always got you, baby.”

“I thought it was going to get me,” you buried your face into his chest, trying to slow your cries down, “I-I thought it was going to-”

“Hey,” he rubbed your back in soothing circles, trying to get that horrible image and idea out of your mind. He didn’t even want to think about it…it might have been the worst thought that he could have had, “don’t worry about that. It didn’t happen, it won���t ever happen.”

“Okay,” he felt you nod, your tears wetting the collar of his shirt. It didn’t matter to him though, he would have taken a million wet shirts as long as he knew that you were okay, “you’re right. Nothing bad will ever happen when we have each other.”

“Exactly,” he promised, pulling back so he could press gentle kisses to your cheeks and forehead before stopping at your lips, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You could feel his eyes on you. Again. 

It seemed you could never go far anymore without him watching you, making sure that you were okay. You looked up from where you were sitting near the dying fire, offering him a small smile before you turned your attention to the smoldering embers. Once upon a time ago, you would have been making s’mores. 

Joel made sure to check on Ellie who was lying in her sleeping bag and reading a book she had brought along before making his way over to you. He sat down on the log next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you leaned into his side. 

“You doin’ alright?” he whispered softly as you let out a small sigh. It had been a couple days since the incident and he almost hadn’t let you out of his sight since. You shrugged and Joel’s arm instinctively tightened around you, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shifted so you could look at him, a pout on your lips. You knew he wouldn’t let it go until he got a decent answer; his stubbornness was one of the things you loved most about him, but sometimes it was overwhelming, “I just feel bad, I dunno.”

“Whatever for?”

“Worrying you,” you admitted shyly, “making you feel like you constantly have to look out for me now. There’s so much else to worry about, including Ellie, and now you have to add me to that list.”

“Is that really what you think?” he asked, an eyebrow perking up in surprise as you found it hard to meet his eyes, “you think all I do is worry about you?”

“I don’t think that’s all you do,” you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried - a vain attempt - to keep from getting too emotional, “I just feel like…I guess I’m just like a burden to you.”

“You are a lot of things,” he laughed softly and the change of emotion caught you off guard, “but a burden you are not. You are anything but a burden, baby.”

“Are you-”

“I’m positive,” he pressed his finger to your lips and shook his head. You couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up at his silliness, “all I’m doing is looking out for my baby, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumbled against his finger before wrapping yours around his wrist and gently pulling your hand away, “I’ll protect you too if you ever need it.”

“I know,” his smile was breathtakingly beautiful; you tried to coax it out of him as much as possible, “I know you’ll kick everyone’s ass if you need to.”

“Duh.”

“Can you guys stop being so gross and lovey?” Ellie groaned at the top of you before she tossed an acorn over at the two of you, “some of us are trying to read.”

“We love you too, Ellie Bean,” you said softly and despite her words, you spotted the smile tugging up the corners of her mouth.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel insisted that he wasn’t overstressed or worried about you. But that had been a lie; he’d always been big on protecting you but after your close incident with the clicker, that urge to keep you safe increased ten-fold. 

And to be quite honest…you didn’t totally hate it. The primal part of your brain melted at the idea of Joel looking out for you and protecting you. You were his sweet, shy girl, he’d always keep you safe. 

“Are you warm enough?” his sleepy, gruff voice cut through your late night thoughts as he pulled closer into his body. You were all curled up into him, his frame practically draped all over you and his smell comforting. How could you not be warm enough?

“Mhmm,” you shuffled around in his arms so you could turn to face him. You offered up your own sleepy smile as you captured his lips in a soft kiss. You liked kissing Joel, a lot, but there was something about late night sleep kisses that always made your heart melt, “plenty warm and toasty, handsome.”

“You’d tell me if you were cold, right?” you could pick out that tone of worry in his voice immediately. You chuckled softly and nodded as best as you could, “I don’t want you to freeze.”

“I’m not going to freeze,” you huffed in amusement, “you’re like a radiator anyway.”

“Just want to make sure you’re okay,” his pretty eyes were already closing again, his arm wrapped around your waist and his fingers tracing aimless shapes into your soft skin, “can’t have you suffering.”

“I’m not,” you promised, “now hush so we can both get back to sleep.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel fretted over you, looking over every inch of what you were wearing. You tried to wave him off but he was having none of it. His hands were on your shoulders and his brow furrowed as you tried to contain the grin on your face.

“Are you sure you’re all geared up?” he was asking himself more than anything, a concentrated expression on his face. He looked over your shirt, and sweater, along with the knife on your thigh, the flashlight clipped to your backpack strap, and checked to make sure your boots were properly laced. 

Once he was satisfied with his look over, he put a finger under your chin and turned your face up to his. A reverent little smile was tugging up the corner of your mouth as you studied those pretty honey brown eyes, “well, tell me, am I properly geared up?”

“I suppose you’ll do,” he tried his best to keep his voice serious but you could hear the amusement, “you comfortable, baby? Not too hot, not too cold, everything secured?”

“Affirmative captain,” you beamed and the sight was almost enough to make his heart feel all warm and fuzzy, “what about you, Joel? Got everything you need, all comfortable and ready for action? Which hopefully won’t happen…”

“I’m all good,” he was quick to dismiss your worry but you weren’t about to let him get away that easily. You tutted at him, putting your hands on his shoulders and leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, “really, I-”

“No, no, no,” you narrowed your eyes at him, in malice in the look, only affectionate sternness. He held up his hands in mock surrender as you gave him a firm, satisfied nod, “you get to fret over me, so I get to do the same over you.”

“But there’s-”

“You should know better than to argue with your…what does he call you?” There was a shit -eating grin on Ellie’s face as she looked between the two of you. Joel had experienced one moment of panic and slipped up and she hadn’t let him live it down since, “mine? I think that’s what you called her. Don’t argue with your mine!”

“Ha ha,” he rolled his eyes at the younger girl but there was a pretty tinge of pink coloring his cheeks as you laughed at the two of them. He turned his attention back to you, opening and closing his mouth a few times, “I…didn’t. It just happened in the moment.”

“Lucky for you I like being called yours,” you playfully patted his cheek, “besides, I think labels at this day and age just feel so…weird? Arbitrary? Something like that.”

“It wouldn’t feel right calling you my girlfriend,” he agreed, “you’re so much more than that.”

“Consider me flattered,” you took a step back and gave him a coy little smile, “too bad I only think of you as my boyfriend.”

You turned on your heel as you trekked after Ellie, a spring in your step. You felt him staring after you, able to perfectly picture the expression on his face. 

“Wait -” he followed after you, easily catching up with you, “what do you mean just your boyfriend?”

“Relax,” you turned around so you were facing him and walking backwards, “it was just a joke, handsome. You’re so much more than just my boyfriend. You’re…well, I can’t really put it into words. But, if it’s any consolation, you’re everything to me.”

“Now you’re just flattering me,” he snorted as you shook your head.

“I mean it, Joel Miller,” you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his, “I love you, handsome.”

“I love you, baby.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The rain had brought life back into the woods you were still working your way through; it was an oddly comforting thing. You broke off from Joel and Ellie once you were all settled for the evening and went down to the pond where you’d noticed a bunch of frogs start to come out.

You grinned as you made your way over to the edge, listening to the melodic croaking from all around you. This reminded you of all the times you’d done this as a kid - even as a young adult - before the world fell apart. It was something so simple, but so comforting. 

Despite the fact that the ground was muddy and wet, you plopped onto your bum and started watching the frogs and other creatures going about their little business. You had to repress your squeal of delight as some of the frogs came near you, and an even braver one jumped into your hand. 

“Hey there little buddy,” you held him up to your face so you could study him, grinning when he crooked softly at you, “it’s so good to see you too. I’m sure you must really like the rain.”

Almost as if he understood you, he made a few more sounds before settling himself in your palm. The sheer trust this little critter had in you made your heart ache; if only people could be like this. You like to believe in the kindness and good hearts of people, but the years had taught not to be so trusting. 

As if you were some sort of Disney princess, you spied a few bunnies coming out and hopping around, their little noses twitching happily. You remained still as you held out your hand in a silent invitation; you were even more surprised when the small bunny decided to take you up on it.

The chocolatey brown rabbit made its way over, sniffing your hand and studying you for a few moments before nudging his head against your hand. You let the small fluff ball take his time before finally petting him out of your own volition. 

“Hey friend,” you cooed softly, “you are too cute.”

He wiggled his way into your lap, already so trusting as you just beamed at him. You inhaled excitedly as you petted him, tears threatening to well up. It had been so long since you’d gotten to pet or touch any sort of animal. This was a moment that made the world feel much less terrifying and harsh than it was.

“I like you,” you picked him up and clutched him to your chest, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and velvety ears. You knew that if Joel was there in the moment, he’d chide you for getting so close to a dirty animal. But you didn’t care - not that at that moment.

You laid down, back on the damp ground but not a care in the world. Your new companion hopped all over your torso, chasing your hand for pets and rubbing its little face onto your skin. 

“That tickles,” you told him through giggles but the little bunny didn’t care. You started to play with him, laughing and squealing at how funny and happy he was, “you’re so cute, it’s not fair!”

You didn’t hear the footsteps running through the clearing until you heard his sharp call of your name. You startled at the sound and lifted your head off the ground to find Joel standing at the edge of the pond, chest rising and falling heavily as he stared at you. His face was an indiscernible mask as you held up your hand in a weak little wave.

“Hi,” you gave him a guilty little expression as your new friend also looked at Joel, “everything alright, my love?”

“I called for you,” his hands were on his hips as he walked over to you. You knew that stance all too well, “and you were gone. I’m walking around and looking for you when I heard what could be either crying or laughing. Naturally, my mind went to the worst possible conclusion. Especially after what happened not that long ago - you need to be more careful, baby.”

“Sorry,” your face flushed with warmth as you slowly sat up, gently holding onto the bunny, “I said I was going to the pond, I thought you’d heard me.”

“It’s alright,” he came over and crouched down so he was eye level with you. With a heavy sigh, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’m glad you’re okay. What are you even doing out here - it’s wet and cold.”

“Enjoying a slice of life,” you gestured around, “the frogs came out with the rain and I wanted to see them. I used to love seeing them as a kid. And then I met this little guy! He’s precious…I wish we could keep him.”

“You’re something else,” he shook his head with nothing but reverent fondness as he too touched the bunny’s ears, “but I’m glad you were able to find a little bit of peace. If things were different, I’d say we could keep him, but…”

“I know,” you smiled sadly at the creature, “it was nice while it lasted. Sorry buddy…I’m sure you’ll be happy to stay with your family.”

He nudged his nose against your finger, almost as if he could understand what you were saying. You set him back down and he started to hop away, but turned around before he disappeared and gave you one last look. You saw his little family waiting nearby for him. 

“Hey,” Joel gently tapped his fingers against your cheek, “it’ll be okay. One day we’ll get a pet in our own home.”

“Promise?”

“Of course,” he took your hand in his much larger one and helped you to your feet. He pulled you into his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “I love you, sweet girl.”

“I love you, handsome.”

[vaguesxrrow]

hii! i was wondering if i could request a Dean Winchester x reader with an established relationship, and i had this prompt in my head [could possibly be used as future inspo's for you fics too if you'd like :>]

basically, the relationship between them is pretty new, like only a month or two new, and reader has claustrophobia, but never told him or Sam.

and for a case, they have to go into an elevator, which is fine, and reader seems to do a good job at pretending it doesnt freak them out that they're in a convined space (elevator is pretty tiny, even for elevator standarts)

but then it suddenly stays still, and gets stuck bc of electrical issues.

so now they're stuck in an elevator for who knows how long, and reader tries their best to stay calm, but Dean knows better and now that the elevator is staying still he notices the microexpressions, the panic, the fear.

and its just super fluffy with him helping reader deal with it untill the elevator is back on track

thanks! and have a great day!

i lovee all your requests sm, especially bc they challenge me to write new things <33 i rlly like how this turned out so i hope u do to !

dean winchester / claustrophobic!reader

a/n: i have no personal experience with claustrophobia but i researched it as much as i could. however sorry if it still sounds unrealistic !

cws: panic attacks, claustrophobia

wc: 785

tags: gender neutral reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, humour

"can we even fit in there?" dean asked dubiously, clearly unimpressed at the elevator that stood before you. "i mean, this has gotta be a health hazard, man, cause what is this?" he banged the doors as he stepped inside.

"it's fine, dean, stop being dramatic." you rolled your eyes, trying to fight the wave of panic (or was that vomit?) rising up inside you.

not letting yourself think about it any further, you stepped in after dean. at first, you thought it was just your claustrophobia whispering how this elevator looked like a death trap. but then your (wonderful, by the way) boyfriend dean had pointed it out himself, and wasn't that just awesome?

you weren't irritated at him, but at the situation itself. you and dean had only been dating for a month, and definitely hadn't reached the 'divulge your deepest fears and secrets to each other' stage.

you could tell dean about your claustrophobia now, but what else was there to do? the stairs in this building had been destroyed by the vampires you knew nested on the top floor.

in conclusion, the elevator was the only way.

determined, you punched the button to the 17th floor. this was fine.

dean prattled on about the job. something about 4 vampires, killing 3 residents until the others had to evacuate...

suddenly, the elevator groaned to a stop, on the 10th floor. you hit the buttons again. god, it had been going so well.

"what happened?" you asked. the lights began to flicker. "is there a ghost here, too?"

both of you scanned the area as best as you could, having to shuffle around awkwardly to look at the whole area.

"nah," dean finally said. "probably just electrical issues."

you sighed. "it's gonna be humiliating calling sam to rescue us."

"tell me about it." dean rolled his eyes, even as he dialed his brother's number. "yeah, sammy, [name] and i got into a bit of a situation... no, dumbass, we're not dying-"

you forced a laugh at the boy's banter, even as the walls seemed to be closing in on you. breathe in and out, you chanted internally.

"-if you could just come get us..." dean glanced at you, pausing in surprise for a second. "hey, sammy, i gotta go, just get here as quick as you can, would ya?" he hung up, tucking his phone back into his pocket. you were too focused on keeping your emotions in check to notice dean had become alerted to your subtle panic, and was now giving you his full attention.

"you okay, [name]?" he asked.

you forced a teasing grin. "fine, just wishing i had some fresh air to get away from your stink."

"that's a smooth evasion if i've ever heard one, but it ain't gonna work on me, hot stuff." he wiped away a miniscule bead of sweat from your forehead. "literally."

you closed your eyes. he had clocked you - no point in keeping up the act now, even if it was embarrassing.

"can i touch you?"

you nodded. he put an arm around your shoulder, his other hand lightly grasping yours. he guided it to his chest where his heart was. "you feel my heartbeat?"

you murmured an affirmation.

"alright, it quickened a bit there, but that's the effect you have on me." he winked. "how fast is it? does it match the.. what was it, bpm, of any song?"

you shook your head at him in confusion. "what?"

"answer the question, [name]." he rolled his eyes, flushing slightly.

you furrowed your brow as you thought. "wanted dead or alive, bon jovi?"

he smirked. "awh, that's awesome. now you get to bear witness to my rendition of it."

that alone was so unexpected it startled a laugh out of you. "excuse me?"

he began swaying, jostling you in the process. "you heard me. i'm a cowboy, on a steel horse i riiide." he spun around, although it was more of an awkward twirl. "i'm wantedddd..." he held out both hands to you, tugging you close when you took them. "dead or aliiiveeee!"

you snorted loudly at his attempt to hold the last note, and yelped in surprise when the elevator lurched back into movement. dean's hug tightened, steadying you.

"i must be one hell of a singer if that was all it took to get the elevator sorted," he remarked, looking hilariously proud of himself.

"that's one way to put it." your previous panic and embarrassment had dissipated, leaving only gratitude for your boyfriend. "thanks."

he kissed you briefly. "no problem. but can you imagine the look on sammy's face when he gets here and we don't need help anymore? ha, imagine that!"

[sanguineterrain]

Hii so for the requests if this is too dark please just ignore 💜 how about jason x reader with "[ BACKUP ]   sender calls receiver panicking after committing a crime" where maybe reader gets assaulted and in self-defense kills the criminal and is panicking and calling jason because she knows he can help her and is the only one who won't judge her. Thank you for considering 💖

hey anon! i really liked this prompt, not to worry. it reminded me of that scene in the punisher when amy shoots the guy, but frank "kills" him, so i ended up incorporating that here 😅 thanks for requesting!

i also combined this with another request i got for the prompt "hide. hide now." with jason bc i felt they went well together :)

jason todd x gn!reader | tw: gun violence. reader shoots a man whose intention is to harm them. panic attack, blood. you are in charge of the media you consume! | 843 words

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

You don't know how you get back to your apartment. All you can hear is your pounding heartbeat and the footsteps of one of Two Face's men.

You shouldn't have been out this late. You shouldn't have been out alone. So many shouldn'ts run through your mind.

"Run all you want! I know where you live now, snitch! You ain't making it out tonight!"

You take the stairs two at a time, tripping over your feet. Sweat pours down your face. Your chest is tight with fear.

"Yoo-hoo," the goon sing-songs. "Where are ya, birdie?"

You unlock your phone and duck into the laundry room. Quickly, you pull out your phone and tap on your first contact.

"Todd."

"Jason," you whisper. The phone shakes in your grip.

"What's wrong?" he asks, instantly on alert.

"There's a—I was—I'm at home. I-I didn't know where else to go. Two Face's guy saw me, he chased me—"

"I'm on my way. Are you inside?"

"In... in the laundry room... Jay, I'm so scared."

"I know, I know, it's okay. I'll be there in two minutes. Go to your apartment and lock it. There's a gun taped behind the pantry cabinet. Don't hang up."

"I don't remember buying a—"

"I put it there. Go."

You don't even have the thought to be mad; Jason has always been protective of you, and right now, it might be the only thing that'll keep you alive.

"You there?" he asks as you stumble on your feet to your apartment.

"Al-almost—"

"I know you're up here, snitch!" the goon shouts from two floors below.

You gasp and nearly break your key in the lock. But you manage to get it open and lock it behind you, just how Jason ingrained in you to do. You find the gun exactly where he said it is.

"Okay. I have it. Jason, I've never—"

"I know. Listen to me—shit—okay, you see the safety? You remember what I taught you about taking the safety off?"

"Yeah, y-yeah." You take the safety off. The gun is heavy, way heavier than you remember it being when Jason had shown you how to fire it in a field outside of town.

"Alright. Now take the gun and hide. Hide now."

"Where? Jason, he's coming—" You're crying now, face slick with sweat and tears.

"Listen to me. I'm three blocks away. I will be there, okay? I won't let him do shit to you. Go to the bathroom and lock it. Be careful with the gun. Finger off the trigger."

You walk on jellied legs, half-stumbling to the bathroom. You do what he says and press yourself against the tub, gun under your palm. Your phone is on your other side.

"You still there?" he asks. "Talk to me, sweetheart."

"I'm here. I think he's—"

You flinch hard as your apartment door splinters. You cover your mouth to hide your cries. The light is off, but you doubt this is the first time this guy's hunted someone in their apartment.

You hear the squeal of tires through the phone. Jason's close; he'll be here soon, he'll—

The bathroom door tears from its hinges. The doorknob makes a hole in the wall.

You don't think.

The shot is louder than you expect, and your ears ring from the sound. Blood splatters on your bathroom tiles. The goon hits the floor with a shout.

"Oh my God, oh my God," you babble, still squished against the tub.

"You bitch!" the goon shouts, blood bubbling from his mouth.

Jason runs in then. He quickly kicks the goon's gun away and steps on his chest when the goon tries to get up. Jason cocks his gun in warning.

"Stay down, shithead," he snarls.

"I killed him," you say, tears flooding your eyes. "I didn't mean to—I didn't—"

Jason kneels in front of you and gently takes the gun from you. You look at him, stomach rolling.

"I killed him," you say again, cringing as the goon yells in pain.

Jason shakes his head. "No. Hey, you didn't kill him. You defended yourself. You just shot him, okay? See, look—"

He fires a single bullet without looking. The goon is instantly silent. You wince.

"Okay? You didn't kill him. I killed him. Me. Not you."

You whimper, face falling into Jason's chest. He holds you tightly.

"I was so scared, but I didn't want to—I thought he was gonna—"

"Shh, shh. You didn't do anything wrong. Okay? I got you. You did good. You defended yourself. It was you or him and you made the right choice."

"Don't leave," you cry, clinging to Jason's tactical vest.

He squeezes you tighter, shielding you from the body.

"I'm not going anywhere. I got you, sweetheart. Don't worry. Nothing's gonna happen to you."

You sit like that for a long time, Jason whispering gentle reassurances in your ear as you cry into his chest.

"I promise you'll never be in this situation again," he whispers when your cries have become sniffles. "I swear."

[shamixlour]

The Bear - Claire of it all

I was rewatching the Bear and its kinda crazy the way Claire always forces herself on Carmy all the damn time (when she asked Fak for Carmy's real number when clearly the dude gave you a fake one for a reason or again forcing herself to the back kitchen when he got locked in the walk in when Fak told her it wasn't a good moment, timing or even during Carmy's panic attack scene, she forces herself in his mind, in his life so much that he believes that she would help him calm down....when we both know who truly is able to do that) and yk what's even crazier, the way the writers (who are geniuses btw so imo they really did this on purpose and for a reason) wrote her character in a way where as watchers we almost feel like we can't NOT love her, that by doing so we lowkey suck and we're a bit weird bcs not only Carmy's entourage (Nat, Richie & Fak) keeps insisting how good and great she is for him but also the girl seems to be, emphasises on seems, perfect for Carmy. She is the girl he used to fancy, his long time crush, she is pretty, intelligent, super easy going and ready to take all the steps needed to get to Carmy. He doesn't have to do anything almost for her to get into his life. She is easy and good and perfect so we should feel bad for not liking her, for not wanting her for him when everyone around Carmy thinks so of her and doesn't miss a chance to throw it right into our (and Carmy's) face all the fucking time. All the fucking time.

And so for me, it is written like that for a reason.

However we also see that Carmy starts losing his focus the moment she comes back into his life and best believe, I think he felt it, i think he knew and that is why he gave her a fake number bcs deep down he had a certain understanding that she was not perfect for the person he wants to become, he started to become but guess what, she forces herself and his entourage (Fak his best friend lol remember how carmy is a bit ???? When she tells him that thru the phone) thinks this might be good for him, she is the person Carmy always wanted so they think they are helping but they are wrong and they dont know and they dont see how he is eager to envolve bcs he doesn't show it much with them, he is not as open and human with them like he is with Syd. Besides, Carmy also has the tendancy to let things happen to him too, he kinda likes having it easy regarding all the other parts of his life (other than his job) so he just goes with the flow and so Carmy stops changing the sec he meets her again.

He stops and misses the opportunity to grow and envolve and find his purpose and I know deep down he knows and that is why all of their scenes kinda feels off. He knows deep down, not up front but we know with how their interactions are shown to us.

Claire is perfect for the Carmy from the past. She is perfect for the person he used to be and not for the one he thrives to become and so I am very excited to see how they're gonna play that for season 3 especially after she told him she loves him.

[oddinary4bts]

Love is a Laserquest | choi san

☆summary: years after your break-up, Choi San comes to you for help. In an attempt to save his life, you escape to your uncle's cabin in the woods far from civilization. Will nostalgia and longing make you fall again, or is Choi San just spinning more lies to you?

☆pairing: gangster!Choi San x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: gangster au, exes au, angst, smut, a smidge of the one bed trope

☆warnings: guns/gun violence (mentioned), knifes/stabbing (mentioned), a bounty over San's head, death of a minor character (named Jungkook my bad), blood, injuries, stitches, probably some wrong medical terminology bc optometrists don't stitch up people lmao, a panic attack, cursing, pet names, explicit content: oral sex (female receiving) -> face riding, let me know if I forgot any!

☆word count: 16.5k

☆a/n: Here's my submission for Outlaw: The Project hosted by @ssaboala. It is coincidentally my first time posting about another group than bts, so I hope this won't disappoint! I really enjoyed writing it (even though it's really sad oop). Also my first time making a moodboard so hopefully it works haha

☆a/n pt2: thank you to @moonleeai for being my ever-so faithful beta reader, love you lots <3

☆☆☆☆☆

And do you still think love is a Laserquest? Or do you take it all more seriously? I’ve tried to ask you this in some daydreams that I’ve had But you’re always busy being make-believe

Love is a Laserquest – Arctic Monkeys

☆☆☆☆☆

The diner is silent, unoccupied. It always is on late weekday evenings, when most patrons have gone to bed, the city falling under a carpet of hushed silence only night can bring forth. It makes the diner feel like it’s straight out of a 70s movie, and it makes for the perfect study sessions too.

Night isn’t always soundless in your part of town. Hence why you’ve been trying to escape, pursuing an education that has been leaving you penniless, but with a bright future ahead. If you make it out of med school at a certain point, that is.

Tonight, you fear the peace that night usually entails has been ruined for you – there were gunshots earlier, close enough for you to see the police cars racing past as the law officers made it to probably yet another gang fight.

There’s been a gang war on your side of town. The diner has always been safe, a refuge for both sides of the war, where they aren’t allowed to fight. To carry in weapons and hatred. No, the moment they cross the threshold of the diner, the gangsters become one family, sharing struggles that only poverty can cause.

You wipe a table clean before walking back towards the counter. Your open laptop waits for you, and you quickly read the study guide you’ve made for yourself, the cardiovascular system and its pathologies forming a maze in your mind that you’ve yet to decode. Luckily enough, you still have a week before the bloc ends and you have to take the exam.

Plenty of time to cram everything about the heart in your thick little skull, you’d say.

Your lips move in time with what you’re reading, attention solely focused on the bright screen when a thump is heard right outside the door. It startles you, and you turn around to see the empty street out of the glass door.

It takes you about ten seconds to notice the dark form sitting on the ground. They’re leaning against the door, head lolling to the side. You assume it must be someone that’s ended unhoused, something that happens far too often where you live.

You’ve always been kind. When you were younger, you were told your kindness would be your demise. Yet you’ve never been able to be anything but kind, even though sometimes it might put you at risk. So you can’t resist but walk to the front door, trying to push it open.

It’s useless – the weight of the person is keeping it tightly shut, though they do straighten a little, as if coming to their senses. They turn, and the moment their profile comes into view you’re brought back eight years in the past. To a time when the world was still a beautiful place, void of violence and cruelty. To a smile so sweet it made flowers blossom on your heart, and to eyes so sharp you knew they had read your soul.

Choi San is sitting outside the door, and the caked blood on his cheek tells you enough – he’s injured. He pushes away from the door before slowly getting up. He clutches his side as he does it, yet when he turns back towards you and faces your horrified eyes, he still offers you a smirk.

You push the door open, thinking about the years between then and now. You had dated him for a few months that had felt like forever, until you had realized in what kind of business he was getting involved with. You had tried to convince him to flee before it was too late, and he kept promising that he would.

Only he never did, hiding lies with beautiful words that made your teenage self swoon, until your parents had realized and forced you to break up. It had been a nasty break-up, filled with hatred and words you didn’t mean yet had needed to say for him to leave.

You remember breaking his heart like it was yesterday.

“Choi San,” you greet him, and when he lets go of his side, you notice blood on his hand.

Something runs cold inside of you, even though he still sports a smirk on his lips.

He says your name, bowing his head. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Months, in fact. Because he does come to the diner sometimes. He usually ignores you, and so do you, so it feels strange to have him speak to you. To hear his voice as his words are addressed to you.

“What…” you trail off, glancing down at the ripped fabric of his black tank top.

He’s got a mean cut on his ribs, and it’s only then that you truly realize that he’s badly injured. Because there’s more – one of his biceps has been sliced open too, though blood is barely oozing out of it in small rivulets. The blood on his cheek is from where you assume he’s been punched with rings, and there’s already an underlying bruise under his eye.

“Got beaten up,” he states the obvious, and you immediately open the door wider to let him in.

He limps in, heading towards the nearest booth, where he plops down and lets out a pained grunt. You make sure no one is outside before shutting the door and locking it, flipping the hanging sign on it so it says closed in case a patron decides to show up.

You take a few steps towards San, hands shaking slightly at your side. Because that’s a grown man, bleeding out on the leather seat of the booth, and his eyes are shut though he looks in pain. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. You haven’t yet started your residency, haven’t really gone from theory to practice… Yet you’re studying to be a doctor, are you not?

“Why are you here?” you ask, though you’re pretty sure you know the answer.

“Didn’t know where else to go,” he says, wincing as one of his eyes opens. He tilts his head to look towards you. “Word around the block says…” he pauses, takes a deep breath before continuing, “that you’re studying to be a doctor”.

So you are right. He’s here because he needs your help, and you’re not quite sure how you feel about it.

“Why…” You look for words, and it takes you a moment to realize that it doesn’t matter.

For all the history between you and him, Choi San doesn’t deserve to bleed out to death on a cheap leather seat in a forgotten diner on the dangerous side of town.

He has the decency to chuckle at the start of your question, which only makes him wince in pain once again.

“Don’t move,” you tell him, and it’s a little stupid because clearly, he’s in no state to move.

He doesn’t question it, and you run to the kitchen to thoroughly wash your hands and grab the first aid kit. At night, no cooks stay around, and you usually only reheat food if needed, which doesn’t really happen. You haven’t had any client coming in at night in weeks… until San, that is. So no one is there to see what is going on, which you reckon is a relief. Because you have no idea what’s going on.

You return to the booth where San is waiting, patiently. He’s clearly wiped his hand on his face because there’s fresh blood on his forehead, and you almost balk at the sight of it.

“What have you done?” you mutter, more to yourself than to him.

It seems he’s still in sync with you because he still hears. “Got involved with the wrong crowd.”

You put the first aid kit down on the table, ignoring his eyes when they flutter open, and he rests his gaze on you.

“I don’t know if I can help you,” you say as you unzip the kit and throw it open. You spare his side a quick glance. “This looks like you’re going to need stitches.”

He makes an effort of looking down at himself, though it mostly fails as he doesn’t raise his head from the seat. “Right.”

You grab everything you think you might need – alcohol swabs to clean his skin, fresh linen to bandage his side and arm, and stuff for his cheek too. He carefully observes you, with that piercing gaze of his that used to make you go crazy inside when you were young and impressionable.

You vaguely motion at him, and he cocks an eyebrow. “What?”

“Are you able to sit up?” you ask. “I can’t reach you if you’re lying back like this.”

His pink tongue darts to wet his lips, and he nods curtly. “Let me…” he trails off, resting a bloody hand on the table while he grabs at the back of the booth to push himself up. It has new blood appearing on his side, and you quickly move towards him, putting some linen against it.

As if it’s going to do anything. He clearly needs stitches, and you’ve got nothing with you to stitch him up.

“Fuck,” he curses lowly as he’s finally sitting. You just keep the linen on his side, eyes a little wide.

Your gazes connect inevitably, and time slows. You think about how he used to smile, how his eyes used to hold a softness you haven’t had the chance to see again since he’s walked out of your life.

Or rather, since you kicked him out of your life.

“I don’t think I can help,” you whisper, and his eyes flicker to your lips.

“I can’t go to the hospital,” he admits, shame turning his features into a mask of regret. “They… If they find me, I’m dead.”

Dread fills every ounce of your being. “San, what have you been doing?”

He looks away from your insistent gaze, scoffing slightly. “You don’t want to know.”

He isn’t wrong; you genuinely don’t want to know. Because he means nothing good, even with all the memories you share with him.

“Is it going to put me in danger?” you ask, as he still obstinately avoids your gaze.

He seems to freeze in front of you, as if you’ve pressed pause to your favourite show. To avoid the awkwardness, you busy yourself with grabbing one of his hands so he can hold the linen in place before you start washing the cut on his arm. It’s not deep, but you’re pretty sure it’ll still leave a mean scar, especially considering he can’t go to the hospital.

The thought has a drop of cold sweat roll along your spine. People want him dead. People want Choi San, the man you know as a young, scared teenager just trying to find a way to make his life better, dead. You remember the innocence in his smile – has he smiled at all in the years apart?

“I should go,” he says flatly. He moves to stand, but you hold him down, two hands firmly placed on his shoulders. It makes him wince, and you quickly release your grip.

“Don’t,” you tell him. “Let me at least patch you up.”

His eyes shut again as his head hangs low. “I am so sorry.”

You don’t even know who he is apologizing to, or why he is. All you know is that it causes your heart to clench in your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs.

When you were younger, you believed San was your star-crossed lover. You believed your high school sweethearts romance would grow until you’d be old and grey and at the end of a very long road. You had dreamed of a future with him, the way only teenagers can dream – with no sense of reality. Because your reality had never been to end up by his side.

His choices had been proof enough of it.

You still remember the day you first kissed. Under an August meteor shower, with just the night sky as your witness. It had been hesitant, slow and soft, just like everything with San. And you had believed the lie, trusted it with every beat of your little heart, until your parents had found out the truth about him.

Until they had broken your heart, even before you had broken his.

If the stars had known then, what was going to happen to you and Choi San, would they still have shone through the night?

He lets out a pained sound as you gently dab at the cut on his bicep. You clean the skin around the wound in and of itself, and he watches you carefully, piercing gaze not missing how your face clouds with memories.

“How have you been doing?” he asks so softly you think his words are a gentle summer breeze on your features.

You can almost still smell the summer night air of that field where you had stargazed, where you’d always meet so long ago.

“I’ve been okay,” you answer, truthfully. Because even though you haven’t seen him, you have lived your life apart from him. Have evolved without him by your side. “Better than you, visibly.”

He didn’t expect the joke. It makes him snort, and then a soft smile grows on his lips, softening the edges of his hard features. “You haven’t changed.”

You have, and yet you haven’t. Like him, you think there’s a part of you that is still sixteen, and will forever be. A part of you that remained stuck in the moment when you watched him walk away in the rain, as if even the sky had to cry for his broken heart.

“Wish I could say the same about you,” you murmur, nostalgia a melancholic song in your words.

He chooses to remain silent, because the proof of how much he’s changed is sitting right in front of you, wounded and bleeding and hurt. The hurt is behind his eyes, in the shadows of the past that have also been obscuring your vision.

“Yeah,” he lets out, barely audible.

And then silence reigns between you, because as much as you once loved him, eight years have made you strangers. You don’t know anything about his life except the dirty, obvious darkness that surrounds him, and he doesn’t know anything except that you are studying to be a doctor…

Which leads you to wonder how does he know in the first place?

You ask him, as you’re wrapping the linen around his bicep to make a makeshift bandage. You’re proud of the result, though your fingers can’t resist but linger on the taut skin over his muscle, surprised at how soft it still is.

“I’ve heard you mention it,” he admits, as you take a step away to look at the material on the table, as if it’ll suddenly make stitches appear for you to put them in his skin. “One of the times I was here.”

“You never said hi,” you reproach him, unable to hide the ghost of a bite in your tone.

“Neither did you,” he points out, and he isn’t wrong.

All you can do is purse your lips as you finally decide to clean his skin. But for that, you have to rid him of his tank top, to make sure there’s no fabric in the wound. You look at him, cheeks somehow burning even though all you’re doing is taking care of a patient.

Though he’s not a patient, and you’re not in a hospital. You’re just a server at a dusty, old diner and he’s just your teenage lover, wounded by his dangerous actions.

“Should I grab scissors to remove your shirt?” you ask, though you’re speaking to yourself more than to him.

He still finds it in him to tease. “You want me out of my shirt?” he enquires, smirk gracing his lips again. “Say no more.”

He tries moving, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “Don’t,” you warn. “You’ll make it bleed more.”

He purses his lips, because nodding. “Right.” He glances at the first aid kit, before his eyes trail to your face again. “You got scissors in that?”

There are. You grab them, before turning towards him. It feels strange: you’ve never undressed him before. You had always wanted to wait, back then, before you slept together. You believed you were too young, and San had always respected it.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” you tell him as you take a step closer to him.

He slightly leans back, furrowing his eyebrows. “What do you plan to do with those that might hurt?”

You roll your eyes, playfully, before taking the two other steps leading to right in front of his legs. You notice that they are slightly parted, allowing you to come closer, and you take a steadying breath before reaching between you, pulling at the fabric of his tank top.

“Stay still and you shouldn’t get hurt,” you whisper, ignoring the heaviness of his piercing gaze on you.

It burns right through you, and you have to tame the beats of your heart at the feeling of the warm skin of his shoulder against the back of your fingers as you bring your other hand forward, until you’ve started cutting his shirt.

It’s stuck to his side where blood has dried, and he winces but remains still and silent as you keep going, pulling on it a little harder to be able to cut. The moment stretches into infinity, because you can’t help but take your time. It reminds you of how you’d used to run your fingers on his back, under his shirt, when you napped in the field in the summertime. In an idyllic world where gangs and violence and war were mere inventions of the media, and not a reality that surrounded you.

You’d loved the field. The wildflowers, the open air, the way it was just you and him and a few lazy bumblebees as clouds lazily crossed the sky above. You were so young then, so innocent. Hands unstained from blood, from his blood.

Because as you cut, the hand touching his shirt stains with blood. You pale at the sight of it, but you keep going, pushing through until you’re done, gently pulling the fabric from his body until he’s sitting there, shirtless, with a long wound on his ribs.

You can’t help but notice his toned chest and the defined abs on his stomach. Though blood mars his skin, turning it into a piece of violence, Choi San is still beautiful. Beautiful in a dark, dangerous way that has you glance outside, making sure no one is looking.

But the streets are empty, void of life at this time of the night. At least, they mostly always are.

“You will need stitches,” you state again as if you both don’t know already.

“I can’t…”

An idea forms in your brain. It’s a stupid idea, and you don’t even know why it crosses your mind.

Your uncle has a hunting cabin far in the woods. He’s a nurse himself, and he’s always kept everything over there in case someone got injured and he had to stitch them up. You haven’t gone in forever, but you still remember the tall trees, the deep forest scent that reminds you of autumn and leaves and grey days spent reading by the fireplace.

You never went hunting, but you did accompany your father when he went, needing an escape from the city once in a while. An escape from a life that was slowly becoming too real.

Your uncle is currently halfway across the country, so you know you’d be alone at the cabin. You glance at your laptop over your shoulder – you have three days off in front of you before your next class on Monday. Indeed, the Friday class is pre-recorded and to watch online in your free time, and you figure you can always watch it some other time.

So you turn towards Choi San, almost surprised that he’s real and he’s still sitting in front of you, honey skin cut open on his ribs.

“I might know a place where you can go,” you admit, with a small voice, surprising both you and him. Because you doubt he expects you to want to help, after tonight.

“What?” he asks.

“My uncle’s cabin,” you remind him, because you’ve told him about it all those years ago. “He should have all that I need to stitch you up.”

San looks down at himself. “You’ve just cut my shirt open.”

It sounds a little dumbfounded, and you can’t help the nervous laugh that falls from your mouth. Because even though it doesn’t look too deep, the wound still is terrifying in and of itself.

“I’ll bandage it,” you whisper. “Before we go.”

He seems like he ponders for a time. You watch the debate across his features, his eyes falling to a spot on your chin. He looks sad, troubled and defeated. “I can’t… I can’t do this to you.”

You ignore his words, carefully washing his side. You avoid the cut and try to be as gentle as you can, but his muscles still flex as he clenches his fists from the pain.

He’s strong. That much hasn’t changed. Because he doesn’t make any sound as you finish washing him and then patch him up with those same careful hands. And when you move to his face, cleaning the blood, his eyes flutter shut, and he sighs softly.

He looks so much like he looked then that your heart aches, and you find yourself blinking away tears for this man who’s had it so rough he believed joining a gang would save him.

“I should have come to you before,” he murmurs. “You’re much gentler than Hongjoong.”

You don’t know the guy he mentioned, and you don’t feel like asking. Don’t feel like acknowledging his words, so you just finish with his cheek before stepping away from the peaceful aura that was treacherously pulling you in.

Like all those years ago, you reckon.

“Let me make a call,” you say, turning away from him as you move to the counter. You feel the weight of his eyes between your shoulder blades as you get your phone from next to your laptop. You call your boss, and as someone that’s never called in sick before, you feel anxiety flush through you.

Because you’re not sick. And how could you tell him that you need to take care of your ex-boyfriend of eight years ago?

Seokhyun picks up on the first ring, voice groggy with sleep when he mutters, “Hello?”

“Boss,” you greet him. You scrape your throat and spare a look towards San who’s watching you curiously. “An emergency came up, and I have to leave the diner.” You swallow the lump in your throat that’s formed from lying, and then you add, “There haven’t been any customers all night, so I was wondering… would you be comfortable with me closing for the rest of the night?”

Your boss says your name, a little reproachfully. But then he sighs, because he knows just as well as you what a good employee you’ve always been. “Are you going to be able to come in tomorrow night?” he asks.

You pull at dry skin on your bottom lip, assessing San’s state. You could always come back to the city for work…

“You know what, I know you’ve got that big exam coming up,” your boss says, sighing into the phone. “Why don’t you take the next week off so you can take care of your emergency and focus on your studies?”

If Seokhyun wasn’t a fifty-three year old married and father of three children man, you think you’d ask him to marry you right now.

“That would be really helpful,” you tell him, gratitude dripping from your voice. “Are you sure that won’t be a problem for the diner?”

“The diner won’t lose profit if it closes for three nights in the week,” he points out. “I’ll see if I can get you replaced for the evening shift on Sunday.”

You thank him again as he grumbles that it’s nothing. He wishes you good luck, and when the line goes silent, you finally meet San’s gaze again.

“All sorted out,” you tell him, offering him a nod. “Let me just close the diner, and then we can go.”

He nods, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He observes you as you do so, quickly closing the diner like you’ve done about a hundred times before, though this time you’re far more excited to go. You grab a plastic bag to put away the bloody swabs, and though he groans in pain, San gets up to help you clean the blood that stained the cheap leather of the booth.

Soon enough, you’re ready to go, and you walk outside with the plastic bag in one hand and your backpack on your shoulders as San chuckles, looking down at himself.

“Do you have a shirt for me?” he asks as he follows you out.

You lock the door behind you before glancing at him. He’s quite the sight, naked from the waist up and bandaged like he is, and you can’t help the small chuckle you let out as you glance towards your car, that’s luckily parked right in front.

Though it’s a deadbeat car, you trust it enough to know it’ll make the trip to your uncle’s cabin, even in the middle of the night.

“My ex left some sweaters on the back seat,” you admit as you unlock your car doors and open the trunk to put your backpack and the plastic bag in there. There’s no chance in hell you’ll leave a plastic bag full of bloody swabs near your work.

You see San nod from the periphery of your vision, and then he’s opening the door to the backseat. “Your ex, huh?” he mutters as he grabs a sweater you used to love wearing and that you haven’t convinced yourself to give back to Hyunmin.

He carefully puts it on, and you’re pretty sure just the motion is going to make blood seep through the bandage. Somehow, you don’t care that it might stain Hyunmin’s sweater.

Hyunmin was a cheater, and even though you never really loved him, it took you months before you found the strength to break up with him. Needless to say, he doesn’t deserve his clothes back.

“Yeah,” you flatly say as you move towards the driver’s seat. You sit, and San follows you, naturally, as if you’ve done it a thousand times before.

As you turn the keys in the engine, San asks, “Have you dated a lot?”

You bristle at the question, shooting him an embarrassed look. “Have you?”

“No,” he replies, features fully serious.

You purse your lips, focusing on the road as you start driving. You need to put gas in the car if you want to get to your uncle’s cabin, so you make your way towards the closest one. It takes you a moment before you register how San has stiffened next to you.

“Can we…” he trails off, and he sinks in the seat, trying to hide. “I can’t be seen here.”

You immediately press on the accelerator, and your car speeds down the street as you pass in front of the gas station. You glance at San only when you’re stopped at a red light. He’s pulled the hood of the sweater over his features, and he’s doing his best to hide.

“Where can we stop?” you ask.

“Next town over,” he answers. “I just can’t be seen in Bangtan territory.”

Right. You have no knowledge of how the gangs have divided your city, but you’re not surprised Bangtan has this part of town. It’s the industrial area, and you assume there’s a lot of money to be made around here.

“Sounds good,” you gently say, and then you’re driving again, the light turning green, allowing you to speed away into the night.

You drive silently all the way to the next town, watching your city disappear to be replaced by trees until buildings reappear. San is looking outside the window, and you can’t help but wonder how he’s been doing, truly. How he managed to get injured like he is right now, and mostly, if his dreams of running away still occupy his thoughts.

He had begged you, the evening you had broken up with him. Told you he’d make enough money to be able to move with you across the country and build yourself a nice little life over there. You had wanted to believe him for so long, until your parents had opened your eyes on just how he was trying to make money.

“Do you need anything?” you ask as you finally reach the gas station, pulling into the driveway. You park next to a pump, turning to face him only to find him already watching you.

“I don’t have money to pay for food,” he admits. He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I lost my wallet in the… altercation.”

You gently put a hand on his forearm. “Hey, my treat. We have to eat.”

He inhales deeply, letting out the breath slowly, before he nods. “Alright. I owe you.”

You reckon he’ll owe you for a lot more than just food at a gas station, but you choose not to say it. Not when you feel like someone’s watching over your shoulder, watching you drive away in the night with the person they are looking for.

You know it’s paranoia. No one followed you out of the city and into this town. It just feels too strange to have him here, with you. In your car, on the way to your uncle’s cabin, as if eight years have gone out the window. As if you can still be young and innocent.

It’s stupid, because you can’t. Time has changed him; time has changed you. And in just a few years you’ll be a doctor, and you’ll finally get out of this hellhole of a city, of its dangerous streets.

Of its equally dangerous man, that you know could probably pull you back in with one of his many well-crafted lies, one of the dreams he weaved expertly, whispering it into your ear.

You take a deep breath before getting out of the car. You go into the station, grab snacks for the next few days and then head to the counter. The guy behind nods as you approach, and you pay for the food and for gas before wishing him a good night and returning outside. San is still squatting in the car, clearly trying to hide, and you put the food on the backseat before putting gas in.

You watch his profile as you put gas in the car. Back when you were dating, his features weren’t as sharp, as glass-cutting as they now are. He used to sport a rounder face, but today you wonder if you’d get a papercut on his jaw. You wouldn’t even be surprised.

When you’re done with gas, you sit back next to him, and you quickly bring the engine back to life before pulling out in the street. As soon as you exit the city, darkness falls on the two of you, tall trees standing on the two sides of the road again. San doesn’t speak much, and it doesn’t take you long to realize he’s dozing off next to you.

“Hey, everything okay?” you ask, suddenly worried that he might have lost too much blood. Which, you reckon, you should have thought about earlier.

He sighs, glancing towards you. “Just tired.”

“Don’t…” you trail off. “Don’t fall asleep.”

He chuckles. “You’re afraid I’m going to die on you?”

“Choi San,” you warn. “Don’t you dare say stuff like that.”

He smiles, but you reckon he’s a little pale. Or at least you think he is, in the silver light of the moon up above. “I think I’m fine. Just…” He offers you a weak smile, though you’ve returned your attention on the winding road. “Just exhausted. I haven’t slept in three days.”

Worry clutches your heart, and you nibble at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “What’s been going on?”

He slightly shrugs. “I can’t tell you. I don’t want to put you in danger…”

“Am I not already in danger by just helping you?”

The silence is telling enough. And it remains for a while until San finally speaks.

“I was in a gunfight a week ago. Accidentally shot the youngest member of the other gang. He didn’t make it, and the gang has put a bounty on my head. Ateez took my gun and told me to run; I laughed in their face and said I wasn’t a coward. Then I got attacked by two guys with knives earlier, and I made it to the diner because I had nowhere else to go.”

Now the silence is deafening, heavy, and you think you’ve altogether stopped breathing. You’re struck with an image of San in the summer sun, smiling wide as he put a flower behind your ear, claiming you were the most beautiful girl he had ever met. The contrast with who he is now – a product of night, shrouded in darkness with no hint of that smile on his lips – is stark. And you wonder when’s the last time he has seen the sun, when’s the last time his life wasn’t violence like this.

When you say nothing, he scoffs, resting his head against the window as if it’d allow him to escape. Because clearly he wants to escape – he’s just told you that he’s killed someone after all.

And you don’t know what to say. Don’t know how to react to someone confessing murder. All you can do is stare at the street ahead, hoping you won’t end up in a gunfight with San. Because where would that lead you, other than in the dramatics of death?

You don’t speak for the rest of the ride. You don’t think he sleeps either, and dawn is clinging to the far horizon when you get to your uncle’s cabin, in a secluded forest that seems straight out of a fairytale. Instead of bringing you awe like it usually does, the sight of it makes you think of all the murder mysteries you had been obsessed with when you were younger, before you realized how horrible the real world truly is.

Neither of you move, as you turn off the engine of the car, and you fall into even more of a tensed silence, though this time you can hear the chirping of the early birds. It’s peaceful, so peaceful you can barely even grasp how tangible the presence of San is next to you. The presence of his actions too, looming between the two of you like a sword of Damocles.

You move first. Putting a hand on the knob, hoping to escape the heaviness into the dawn. San speaks before you can though, and your heart stops in your chest.

“I never meant for him to get hurt,” he murmurs, and you think he’s speaking to himself more than to you. “Everything went too fast, my gun was in my hand and I just… in situations like these, you don’t have time to think.” He leans his head against the headrest, eyes closing. “All I can picture since it’s happened is him falling and blood. Like a fucking blossoming rose, all around him.” He rests his closed fist on his forehead, rubbing it hard. “I haven’t been able to sleep; I’ve been sick every time I’ve tried to eat…”

“San,” you interrupt as you break and break for him. Because this is the San you know. This is the young boy that just wanted to escape and live in a better world. You can almost taste his remorse, taste his regret and shame. It’s poisonous, treacherous, a slippery slope that can’t lead anywhere good. “Let’s get you in. I want to get that cut on your ribs checked.”

He falls silent, and for a moment you feel guilty. Because what if he had more to say? You don’t even think you would have been able to listen. You need the escape, and you know he’ll permit it. Because the man next to you is a broken man, a fracture of what he could have been.

You step out of the car, blinking away tears – from the anxiety, from the exhaustion, and perhaps even from the pain you feel for him. He follows you, wincing as he swings his legs out of the car. He stumbles a little as he stands, but soon enough, he grows steady on his feet, and his attention moves to you. You climb the stairs of the cabin, lifting the rug to find the small trap that leads to the spare key. The padlock is rusted, but it stands strong as you put in the code, and a click is heard when you pull on it.

A few seconds later, you’ve unlocked the front door, pushing it open to reveal the cabin as you remember it. Not a single item is out of place, though dust covers everything, a clear indication that no one has been here in years. You let San in, before going back to the car to get the food you bought, bringing it in and putting it in the fridge. Three full gas canisters hide under the counter, and you sigh in relief – you’ll be able to get the generator on for some electricity.

You motion to the kitchen table. “Have a seat,” you tell San, who somehow looks like a lost puppy. “I’ll get the first aid kit.”

He nods, remaining silent, eyes downcast. You only move when he’s seated, heading to the bathroom area of the cabin, where you startle a spider that almost makes you scream out loud. You keep it in, heart beating out of your chest as you get the kit before moving back into the main area.

San is leaning against the chair, eyes closed. He senses you approaching, and one of his eyes cracks open to watch you carefully, a little like he did earlier, at the diner. It looks so similar to how he used to look at you, when you joined him at the field, that you stop in your tracks, heart squeezing once again.

You don’t like the way Choi San is making you feel, that’s for sure.

“Take off the sweater,” you tell him, putting the kit down on the table. You put some clean linen next to it, to put what you need over it, before washing your hands with the disinfectant you find in the kit. You put latex gloves on after, and then you fish wire and a surgical needle from the first aid kit that you carefully put down on the linen once you’ve torn the packages open.

As you were doing all of that, San took off the shirt, struggling a little as it meant he had to lift his right arm, which pulled at the skin of his ribs, where the cut clearly has started bleeding again. Though, if you’re honest to yourself, you’re pretty sure he’s been bleeding this whole time, even though it probably was just some fine rivulets.

Indeed, the cut isn’t all that deep, you remind yourself. Mostly because you don’t want to even think about the consequences of the blood loss. As long as he stays awake, you figure he’s fine – he would have lost consciousness a while ago if he was losing a lot of blood.

You remove the bandage you had carefully put in place earlier, wincing at the sight of the blood that’s seeped through it. San keeps his eyes close, lets you clean his skin again in peace, and you feel sick to your stomach as you realize you don’t have any anesthetics for the pain that stitching him up will cause. Indeed, the pocket in which your uncle usually leaves the lidocaine is empty, and you remember that he’s had to use it for your dad when he accidentally cut himself with a machete last summer.

“Huh,” you let out. You chuckle nervously. “It’s going to hurt like a bitch.”

His eyes narrow, and he clenches his jaw. “Don’t worry about it.”

You worry at your bottom lip, holding his gaze as you gauge if he’s serious. When his gaze doesn’t falter, you offer him a curt nod, before getting the wire and needle ready under his watchful eyes.

You hand him some linen. “To bite on,” you explain as he just cocks an eyebrow quizzically. That makes his gaze widen a little as if he’s just now realizing how serious you were about it hurting, but he takes it nonetheless.

You think about the theory of how to stitch someone up. It was in your previous block – you watched hours of videos of it in an attempt to desensitize yourself to it. You don’t think it compares to the real thing, but at least you’re somehow confident of what you’re doing when you start.

San startles, groaning in pain, and you offer him a glare. “Don’t move, or it’ll be worse.”

A drop of sweat rolls down his temple, but he still nods. Even as you keep on stitching him, he remains as still as he physically can, though you don’t think he even notices how he’s trembling. Or maybe that’s you – you don’t even know.

Somehow, you make it through the whole thing. You think San might have passed out at some point, but he’s wide awake when you finish the knot to keep the stitches in place, looking up to meet his face.

He’s panting and tears of pain wet his waterline. He blinks them away as he takes the linen out of his mouth, dropping it on the table.

“Fuck,” he curses.

“Let me…” you trail off, mind set on getting something to at least help him cool off, because he’s clearly been heating up.

You grab a washcloth and a small bucket, and head outside to walk down to the lake. You fill the bucket halfway, and take a few seconds to observe the calm surrounding you, hoping that it can ease the nerves rolling inside your heart like dark clouds do on the horizon whenever a storm is coming. You feel it in your bones – you have a murderer in your uncle’s cabin.

You have to keep that in mind. To not let Choi San in like you did when you were a young impressionable teenager.

You sigh, closing your eyes to breathe in the fresh morning air. The sun is peaking over the horizon now, and you bask in its hesitant rays for all of twenty seconds before you convince yourself to go back in. You’ve got a patient to take care of, after all.

San hasn’t moved an inch while you were outside. The only indication that he hasn’t died on you is the groan he lets out as you put the wet washcloth on his forehead. You tap his cheek gently, as if to say, ‘suck it up, I’m just trying to take care of you’.

Which is exactly what you’re doing, isn’t it?

You watch him carefully for a few seconds before tapping his shoulder this time around.

“There’s a bed,” you remind him. “You’d be better passing out in a bed.”

He groans again, cracking an eye open. “I’ve just been repeatedly poked with a needle,” he drawls. “Give me a second.”

It makes you laugh. Because of the nerves, maybe. You’re not quite sure. All you know is that you’re laughing, and San opens his second eye to look at you as if you’re crazy. And you laugh for longer than you should – you’re exhausted after all, especially considering you haven’t slept since yesterday morning. So far, adrenaline has been keeping you going, but you can tell you’re about to crash.

“Sorry,” you apologize once you calm down. “This has just been…”

“A lot,” San finishes for you. “I know.”

You nod once before glancing at the doorway to the bedroom. It has no door, as your uncle and your dad usually come here alone and they don’t mind sharing a bed. It makes you realize that you’ll have to share it with San, which you reckon you should have thought about before. Because there’s no way in hell you’ll share a bed with him, especially after he’s told you why he’s being hunted.

There’s always the option of going into town later today so you can get a sleeping bag and floor mat to sleep on. But you’re far too tired right now to even consider driving, so you motion to the bed once again.

“Stick to your side; I’ll stick to mine.”

He smirks though he’s extremely pale. A lot paler than he was before, and you swallow a sudden lump in your throat. Because what if he dies? What are you supposed to do with him if he dies?

“You’ll have to help me to get to the bed ‘cause I don’t think I can move,” he says once his smirk dies. He curses under his breath. “I’m so pathetic.”

You put your hand on his shoulder again, reassuringly, eyes holding his. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re hurt. Everyone is pathetic when they’re hurt.”

He gulps before nodding once. It takes everything in you not to offer him more comfort because you feel like the slope would tilt forwards far too much if you did. Instead, you help him to get up, wincing as he puts most of his weight on you, clutching his side with one hand. You’re infinitely aware of how his skin is sticky with sweat, but you ignore it as you slowly walk to the bedroom.

You can only hope the stitches will hold because you don’t think he’d be able to withstand another round of them.

You finally reach the bedroom and help San sit on the side of the bed. He sighs, eyes shut tightly, and he doesn’t move for a time. When he does, it’s to stiffly lie down on his side.

“You might want to sleep on your back,” you inform him. “I don’t want you rolling around and messing up the stitches.”

He glares at you, though he looks like he’s already half out of it. You hold his gaze until he gives in, turning on his back with a deep sigh. You arrange pillows around him to make sure he’s not moving, and by the time you’re done, his breathing has already evened out.

For a moment, you just watch him sleep. You see him in the field where young love blossomed like a trillion wildflowers. You can almost breathe his pollen again, can almost feel the softness of his skin under your fingertips.

But he’s not what he used to be. Back then, you felt like you had discovered something new. Love, infatuation, affection, and desire, all in the form of the man sleeping next to you. You’d used to kiss, dance and sing to a song only your souls knew, and now you don’t think you recognize him anymore.

As much as he is him, he’s also but just the ghost of what he was. He’s trouble, danger in the shape of innocence, and you recall his words from earlier. You recall the despair, the regret and sorrow that haunted him after he told you. You can’t let him get to your head.

You reckon sleep might help. Though you’re afraid he’s going to waste away in his sleep, so you set up an alarm every hour, before climbing on the other side of the bed. You don’t pull on the covers, mostly because the cabin is warm, and you can imagine it’s just going to get hotter as the sun goes up and the summer heat slowly sizzles into the countryside.

It’s a good thing you put an alarm on. Because when it rings an hour later, you don’t even remember falling asleep. You’re pretty sure the second your head touched the mattress, you were out to the land of dreams. You groan, mostly because you’ve got a slight headache, but you power through it to make sure San is still breathing.

When you see his chest moving up and down steadily, you let yourself fall back asleep.

This goes on for the whole morning, and you only force yourself to stay up when your phone shows that it’s passed noon. As you had suspected earlier, the cabin has gotten extremely warm, so you force yourself out of bed to open all the windows, and then you use the washcloth from earlier to gently wash San’s face of the sweat.

He doesn’t even flinch in his sleep, but he’s still breathing and for now, that’s all that matters.

You head back to the main room, grabbing a pack of chips from where you had left the food earlier, and then you move outside to sit by the lake. Mostly because you need to put distance between you and San, but also just because the childhood memories of this place have you in their hold, and they’ve decided to make you miss the times when you’d swim around with your cousins before both of them had moved out of town.

One day, it’s going to be you too. You already know where you’d go – on the other side of the country, as far away from here as possible. You just want to forget all about the place you grew up in, and you know that, in a few years, you will have forgotten.

Though you’re pretty sure a certain piercing gaze will haunt you forever, especially after the events of today.

When another hour passes, you head back inside, putting the empty bag of chips in the trash before you check up on San. He’s still asleep, but this time he doesn’t look as pale as he did earlier. You assume it’s going to take him a while before he wakes, so you head to the nearest town to grab more food. Mostly to busy yourself, but also just because you know San will need a place to hide for a lot longer than just the weekend. Might as well make sure you have enough for him to survive a couple of days. In town, you also stop to eat at a small café on a small terrasse in the shade of a few trees, and then you grab the food you think you might need at the grocery store.

It’s the middle of the afternoon when you get back, realizing that you forgot to buy a floor mat. As you spy San, who hasn’t moved an inch since he’s fallen asleep, you figure that sleeping next to him tonight should be fine.

As long as his presence in your vicinity doesn’t drag you down memory lane again.

You bought some meat in town, so you head to the little shack outside where the generator is hiding. There’s a gas canister right next to it – also full – and you busy yourself for the next twenty minutes trying to figure out how to get it started. When it finally rumbles to life, you head back inside to put the meat in the fridge, which has finally come to life.

When you hear a groan, you quickly jog to San’s side, fully expecting to find him awake. Surprisingly, he’s still asleep, and you stay next to him for a full minute, thinking he might groan again, though he remains entirely silent.

If it wasn’t for his chest moving up and down steadily, you’d believe him to be dead. But now that a few hours have passed, you’re pretty positive he’ll make it, though he’s probably going to sleep through the day and possibly through the next one too.

Which leaves you in the most peaceful atmosphere you’ve been in for a while, with the opportunity to study as you listen to the rush of wind in the leaves of the tall trees surrounding the cabin. You sit outside, this time near the fireplace, and you study until your stomach grumbles, indicating that it is time for you to cook.

You cook the meat you’ve bought on the grill outside, feeling thankful that your dad once showed you how to use it. You go back in to grab a bottle of water before you eat, and you’re bent in the fridge when you hear San moan again, and this time it sounds like he’s saying something.

You gently close the fridge, making your way to the bedroom. San hasn’t moved, but his features are creased in a frown, and sweat is rolling down his temples. You wet the washcloth, gently wipe his face, and you’re about to leave when he moans again.

It takes you far too long to realize he’s apologizing. What for, you can’t really tell. Though you remember his troubled eyes this morning, you remember his story, and your heart breaks in your chest.

He’s haunted. You think the ghost of the dead guy will probably haunt him for the rest of his life. And suddenly you’re struck thinking maybe, maybe if you hadn’t broken his heart all those years ago, you could have saved him from the gang.

Maybe you could have opened his eyes.

You still remember the break-up like it was yesterday. You remember the rain, him leaving without once looking back, but mostly you remember the words you had uttered. Ghosts of their own, that feel more real now that he’s come back into your life.

*****

                “You’re going to get hurt!” you yelled. “You’ll get hurt, San. What are you thinking?”

He scoffed, shaking his head, and little droplets of water shot all around him. “I’ll be careful. We need the money if we ever want to make it out of this shit town.”

You blinked away tears, folding your arms on your chest as you tried to keep your heart from breaking. Though you reckoned it had broken when your parents had told you what they knew about San. When your father had mentioned Ateez, and you’d truly realized what it meant that he was part of a gang. San, your sweet, soft, and bubbly San, in a gang that had murdered someone just a few weeks ago.

“But that’s not a way to make money!” you screamed, hoping he’d understand. Hoping he’d hear the truth in your words, hoping he’d change his mind before it was too late. “Why don’t you get a part-time job, like me? Then we can go to college and get jobs in a nice city on the other side of the country!”

“It won’t work,” he drawled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I want to be out soon, not in a few years. I barely even have a roof over my head, Y/n…”

“Come live with me,” you choked out around the lump in your throat.

You both knew fully well that your parents would never let him come near you again.

“I can’t.”

You cried, hiding your face in your hands. You cried thinking of the field where you usually met, thinking about its beauty now fading into ugliness. You thought about the wildflowers, withered and dead as autumn had come. You thought about how you were convinced you knew what love was.

“What’s the point?” you asked then. “What’s the point of putting your life in danger? Life isn’t some sort of a game, Choi San. Worse, what if you have to hurt someone? Do you think you’ll be able to pull the trigger?”

He clenched his jaw, hard. “Do me a favour and stop asking questions.”

You closed your eyes, feeling sick to your stomach. Because it couldn’t be. Not San. Not your smiley San, who’d always weave dandelions crowns with you, as you’d pretend you were a queen and a king of that field you had found. An empty field, an abandoned farmland that was just yours and his to explore. That had been home to your first kiss, and all of those that had followed.

Now you wondered why he had always wanted to meet there in the first place. Was he trying to hide?

"If you love me, you’ll get out while you still can,” you said as your tears suddenly ended.

There was a weird sense of clarity in you, suddenly. You remembered the day you had fallen in love, the moment you had first kissed. You remembered the stars in the sky above, the meteors falling for the two of you. You remembered the music on the radio you had brought. Some Arctic Monkeys song about heartbreak, about moving on and failing to do so. As a joke, when it had ended, you had asked San, “Do you think love is a laserquest?”

His answer had been cryptic, mysterious, things that had made you believe he was the one. “Maybe. Maybe it is, and I’ve shot you in the back while you weren’t looking. Maybe I’m that annoying player that won’t leave you alone.”

“I’ll never find you annoying,” you had replied.

But today, watching the rain rolling down his face like tears, you realized that maybe, maybe you should have seen the warning behind his words. Because this betrayal, it came like he had shot you in the back – you didn’t think you’d be able to recover from it.

The past dwindled away as San spoke again, reminding you of the question you had just asked him. “It’s not a question of love, Y/n. I do love you. But it’s a question of survival.”

You laughed, coldly, and then you said, “You know what? You’re full of shit.”

“Alright then. Do me a favour and tell me to go away.”

“Go away.”

A long silence had lingered between you, voided of that summer warmth that had you falling in love. Like a piece was missing from the contract of you loving him, and him loving you. And you realized, maybe you had never really loved each other anyway.

He nodded once when you didn’t say anything else, before turning away. And you watched him walk away. You watched him thinking he was going to turn around and tell you this was just some twisted joke, the prank of the century. Only, he never turned around, and he disappeared behind the bend in the road, never to be seen again, cracking your heart open and splitting it in half.

*****

                The sun sets, like an ending to a dream. You’ve always liked the end – you think if you could choose, you’d want to witness the end of the world. The nostalgia, the beauty of endings… it’s something you understand now that you didn’t understand when you were younger. Because you and San ending, it had led to you focusing on high school. It had allowed you to get in the good college in town, with a scholarship that covered most of your expenses before you made it to med school.

There’s beauty in knowing losing San has allowed you to live out your dreams.

There’s less beauty in knowing that San has been sleeping for almost thirty-four hours now. Last time you checked, he was still breathing, but you’re starting to be afraid that he just won’t wake up. It’s irrational, you know – after the blood loss it makes sense that he’d sleep for a long time.

But it leaves you with far too much time on your hands to think and revisit the past. You’ve been doing it all day – thinking about the fight with your parents that had led to your break-up with San, thinking about that damn rainy evening he had walked away without once looking back. Thinking of the field, of sunshine and star falls and the sweetness of a first kiss. Thinking that, then, you thought you knew what it was like to be in love.

You haven’t dated anyone serious since San. Hyunmin was a distraction for a while, but you never were into it. Not like you were into San. There’s a guy in your class though, that you’ve been chatting with for a couple of weeks. He’s sweet, innocent, and the perspective of a future seems less scary with him around. He’s mentioned he wants to move across the country once too, and since then you’ve started talking more, the similarity of your wishes drawing you closer.

All day today you’ve been feeling like you’re slowly drifting away though. Slowly getting entrapped in a web you’re not sure you’ll be able to walk away from.

You decide to swim, seeking the fresh clarity only cold water can bring to you. You don’t have a swimsuit with you, but since San is half-dead in bed you figure it doesn’t matter. So you strip naked, feet making squelching sounds in the mud by the lake side as you step in the water.

The sharp cold has you holding your breath, but you don’t slow down. You’ve never slowed down in life – when you make a decision, you bring it to completion. And you’ve decided to swim, so swim you will.

The warm summer evening breeze catches in your hair as you take another step forward, the water now lapping at your thighs. You dread the moment it’ll hit your core, knowing that that’s the worst part, but you breathe in deeply, moving forward. Because there’s no moving backwards now.

When the water hits, your eyes flutter shut, and you hold in the wince that threatens to escape the mask of calm your features hold. Soon enough, you get deep enough to swim, and the movements bring welcomed warmth to your limbs as you flop on your back, tits out of the water.

Your uncle’s cabin is the only cabin in a fifteen miles radius. You know you won’t be interrupted, and so you let the water cool you down. Calm you down, hold you in its fresh embrace. It undoes knots in your back that have formed from worrying about San, but also from worrying about college.

From worrying that you will never be enough. You think it’s a normal anxiety to have, something most people must feel as they go through the trials of college, not knowing what to expect on the other side. A nice career, perhaps, though the perspective of failure is there too, looming over the horizon.

You sigh, and your eyes flutter open as your legs move mindlessly under you, making sure to keep you afloat. You look up at the azury ceiling over your head, so far away as it slowly turns gold. Out of touch, out of grasp. You watch the fluffy white clouds that are lazily crossing the sky, turning fiery in the sunset, as if they have all the time in the universe. And you wish you were them, up above. With nothing to worry about.

Without a Choi San on the brink of death lying about twenty meters away from you. You sigh, and you turn in the water, with the purpose of swimming again. Though your gaze catches movement by the cabin, and your head snaps towards it to see none other than the supposedly Choi San, standing on the deck with a hand clutching his side.

You shriek, looking down at yourself. Most of you is hidden, but you don’t know how long he’s been there. Don’t know if he’s seen you naked as you looked up at the sky.

He doesn’t move, only watches you where you’re swimming.

“Can you please look away?” you say from the water, and he has the nerves to lean against the railing, eyes still boring into where you’re swimming. You think his gaze might be so hot the water will boil, and it startles you into action.

You start walking out of the water, pointing towards the door. “You shouldn’t be up, Choi San.”

“I feel fine,” he says as you take another step forward, and the water barely hides your tits anymore.

That makes him turn around, as he offers you a little bit of privacy. You’re quick to get out of the water and wrap yourself in the towel you brought outside, and then you collect your clothes to head back to the cabin. San dutifully keeps his gaze away until you’re climbing the three steps leading to the deck, and it’s then that his eyes trail to you again.

“Thank you for the water,” he says, offering you a tentative smile.

You left water by his bedside earlier today hoping it will coax him to wake up. You’re strangely surprised that it worked.

“You should go sit inside,” you scold him, only half-heartedly. Because seeing him up and about reassures you, somehow.

He cocks an eyebrow, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “The weather is beautiful, I’d rather sit outside.”

You roll your eyes, but you do let him walk down the stairs to sit by the fireplace while you go inside to take a quick shower and get dressed. You decide to make some food for him, though you know he shouldn’t eat too much right now, after not having eaten for a while. He has to start slowly, and you don’t even know if he’s hungry anyway.

You settle for preparing a cup of chicken noodle soup for him, so at least it isn’t too heavy on his stomach. You bring it to him outside, as he’s just calmly observing the lake.

“Thank you,” he says, voice small as he grabs the cup and the spoon.

You sit next to him, trying not to watch him eat too much. His hair is sticking to his forehead in some places, and you have the distinct thought that he’ll probably need to shower. At least there’s plenty of rain water in the bucket for the water pump.

“What have you been doing while I was out?” he asks.

You spare him a quick glance before losing your gaze in the rocks of the fireplace. “I’ve studied. Checked up on you. Not much honestly.”

He chuckles. “I’d argue that caring for someone is a lot.”

You glance at him, cheeks burning at the sight of his teasing smile. “Not really.”

He chuckles again, but doesn’t say anything more before eating another spoonful of soup. He’s almost done with the cup when he actually does speak, asking, “How long was I out?”

“A day and a half,” you answer. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t slept longer.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “I’m made of tough stuff.”

You snicker, but you don’t say anything, just focusing on where you’re kicking at the dirt. When he’s done with the cup, he puts it down on the ground next to him, before sitting back in the chair. He stretches out his legs in front of him, sighing deeply.

“I still feel out of it,” he admits, and you meet his gaze.

“You can sleep more,” you tell him. “I’d just like to check on the…”

You don’t even have to finish your sentence. He immediately turns so his side is to you, and you have to admit you’ve done a perfectly good job with the stitches.

“So?” he asks.

“All good.” You pat his shoulder. “You can sit comfortably again.”

He’s smiling when he does so, and his gaze wanders to the lake once again. “I’m sorry I…” he trails off, and he chuckles softly. “I’m sorry I interrupted your little swim earlier.”

You have the decency to flush furiously red, and you shrug your shoulders. “No worries, I wasn’t expecting you to be up so soon.”

You fall in a comfortable silence, surprisingly so. Rare stars dot the darkening sky up above, and all that can be heard for a moment is the flap of a bird’s wing as it moves from branches to branches in the trees by the water. The breeze picks up as you watch the little bird, and the leaves dance, loudly so. You’d think it’d be deafening in the silence between you and him, but it’s strangely reassuring.

As if, after all, you found your way back to the field. Only this time it’s completely different, as if decades have passed between you. At least, that’s how it feels like.

You notice San has dozed off in the chair next to you when you were about to speak to him again. To ask him how he’s truly been, in the years between then and now. Hoping to avoid mentioning what led to him coming to you, yesterday, a whole eternity ago.

You watch him, heart aching in your chest. Aching to reach out and brush his hair away from his forehead, aching to heal the cut on his cheek with a gentle swipe of your fingers. If only medicine was so simple…

It seems the peace of the early evening wasn’t going to stay around, because you notice dark clouds rolling in the distance, streaks of lightning cutting through them. Slowly inching closer, menacingly so, and you gently wake San up with your hand on his wrist.

He startles awake, hand shooting to his waist, finding nothing there. It startles you, and you both stare at each other for a moment until you realize what he was looking for.

His gun.

“San…” you let out and he runs his hand through his hair, eyes falling shut as he breathes in and out raggedly.

“Sorry.”

“San, I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t open his eyes, refuses to let you see the vulnerability you glimpsed behind his piercing gaze. Refuses to acknowledge that he’s terrified, deadly so.

“Let’s go in,” you tell him, softly. Because you’re afraid you’ll spook him, when he’s clearly been living in fear long enough. “There’s a storm coming.”

He nods, carefully getting up without sparing you a glance. He heads inside, hand clutching his side again, while you pick up the chicken noodle soup cup before following him.

You’ve refilled the generator before swimming, so you know it’s been charging the batteries for a while now. You don’t fear ending up in the dark with San, and there’s also always the option of using the lamps and candles your uncle always leave here in case of an emergency.

The storm doesn’t roll in until a little later. You’ve forced San to put a shirt on – mostly so your eyes would stop betraying you, dropping to his toned body whenever he talked to you. You’re currently sitting on the couch, and as the rain starts, hammering against the window behind you, you pull your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms comfortably around them.

“How hard do the storms hit here?” he asks, eyes trailed to the world outside.

You follow his gaze, right as wind picks up to make the water hit the window even harder, creating a cacophony that forces you to speak louder for him to hear. “Pretty hard.”

He nods, and he glances once at you. “Fun.”

You smile, because you’ve always liked storms. Have always found them electrifying, energizing.

“Do you remember when we used to go to the field when it rained?” San asks, taking you by surprise.

Making your heart clench so hard in your chest you have to take a wobbly breath in. If he notices he doesn’t say.

“We were always in that field,” you remind him. “No matter the weather.”

It’s his turn to smile fondly. “It got so pretty with all the wildflowers. But you were afraid of the bees.”

“Bees are scary!” You laugh, and he echoes it with a soft chuckle. “You’re the one that almost pissed yourself when we saw the rat.”

That makes him laugh, and he winces in pain clutching his side. “Gosh, is it supposed to keep on hurting like this?”

It douses your enthusiasm and your smile falls. “Well, it was a solid cut.”

His eyes get lost in the void as he takes on a wistful expression. “I’m surprised I didn’t die.”

You gulp, watching his profile carefully. “It wasn’t deep enough for that…” you trail off, even though you spent most of yesterday and today being convinced he’d die. “At least they didn’t… stab you.”

“They would have if… Wooyoung didn’t shoot.”

You remain silent, not knowing what to reply to that. San interprets that as discomfort, and he quickly adds, “He didn’t shoot them. Just… in the air. It attracted the police.”

You remember the cars zooming past the diner a lifetime ago, and you nod your head. “I heard.”

He seems surprised, and his gaze finally finds yours again. “You did?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, a little awkwardly. “I hear a lot of shootings, in the diner.”

His eyes widen, mouth falling open cutely. “You do?”

You don’t know what he expected. The diner is right between Ateez and Bangtan territory, and as much as it is a safe space, it is also near enough to dangerous grounds, and you’ve heard plenty of shooting in your time working there.

“Always,” you admit. “It can get scary sometimes… but you also get used to it.”

He looks sad. Infinitely so, like a lost puppy. That’s when the first thunder hits, so sharp and sudden you startle. Not quite as much as San, who ducks, wincing in pain as he clutches his side.

“Shit,” he curses. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, in time with another thunderclap, though this time it’s more of a rumble.

You watch his chest as he breathes in and out quickly. “Just… fuck.”

Now, concern grows in you, and you gently put a hand on his shoulder. “San…”

He meets your gaze, and there’s so much white in his it makes you think of a terrified prey. And then it clicks: he thought it was a gunshot.

“Hey,” you quickly say, moving closer to him. You’re on the side of the stitches, so you still keep a safe distance between the two of you, but you grab his hand nonetheless. “You’re okay.”

“Fuck,” is all he’s able to say.

“I promise, no one’s going to find you here.”

He remains silent this time around, eyes still boring into yours. You take that as a cue to continue, because you don’t want him to panic. You want his thoughts here, with you, and not miles away in a city he should have escaped from years ago. You wish he had, knowing the atrocities that he would have avoided.

Would he have escaped with you, had you stayed just a little longer?

“I killed someone,” he says, and you balk at the silver lining his gaze. “I fucking killed him.”

You don’t know how to help. All you can think to do is cup his cheek, right as he starts breathing even faster. “Breathe with me, San.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes fall to your mouth. You make a good show of inhaling slowly, before exhaling even slower. It takes him a moment but he eventually follows your lead.

It breaks when there’s another sharp thunderclap, and he flinches, eyes shutting instinctively.

“Hey hey hey,” you say again, even more gentle, softer than before. You move even closer, and when a tear slips out of his closed eyes, you pull him into a hug, careful not to brush his side.

His head falls on your shoulder, and one of his arms wrap around your waist. A thunderclap later, he starts sobbing, fist balling the fabric of your shirt in his tight hold, and you let him do it. You let him hold onto you, hoping it’ll keep him here with you. Hoping it’ll keep him afloat during the storm that’s raging both outside and in his mind.

“It’s going to be okay,” you breathe, and you feel like you’re lying to him.

Because how can he ever be safe from the ghosts inside of his skull? The ghosts wandering the halls of him, tainting his soul with their presence?

“He’s never going to smile again,” San chokes out. “Everyone loved him. Even in Ateez… Jungkook was the best of us. The only one who had a shot at getting out of it.”

You don’t know how good he could have been, if he was a member of Bangtan. In your mind, you’d always seen Bangtan as the bad guys, mostly because they weren’t with San. Even when you had been struggling to evade that life, you’d still rooted for him.

It’s strange how you just realize that now, as you’re holding him while he breaks.

“You didn’t mean to kill him,” you remind San, still speaking with the calmest voice you can muster up. “You didn’t want to, San. You’re not a murderer.”

“I’m still a killer,” he says. He sounds angry, and you reckon he might be angry at himself. Might be consumed with his actions, dragged to hell before his time as his mind gets stuck replaying the events.

“Maybe,” you answer. “But,” you quickly add when he stiffens in your arms. “But you can spend the rest of your life making up for it. Repenting.”

He doesn’t respond right away, as he breaks some more, sobs rocking through him. You’ve never seen him like this, not even when you were younger and in love. It makes your gaze wet, yet you hold on strong for him. You keep your head held high, and you allow him to break in the safe haven that your arms represent.

Because to him, you’ve never been tainted. You’ve always been the ideal he was trying to pursue, albeit the wrong way.

“I don’t know how to repent,” he admits when he calms down. He turns his head, and his nose brushes along the skin of your neck, slightly tickling you. You ignore the feeling, especially as he adds, “Ateez… it’s all I’ve ever known.”

You run a hand on his back, soothingly. “It isn’t.”

Because there was you, too. There was the summer field and the twinkling stars and Artic Monkeys on the radio. There was the two of you, petal-soft kisses exchanged in the dead of night and in the brightness of day. There were rainy days, and then there was rain. There was him walking away, and you hate yourself then.

You wish you had stopped him that day, had kept him from going on to become what he’s become now. A person he clearly hates, someone that has a bounty on his head. Someone that doesn’t even believe they’re allowed redemption and you reckon you don’t even know if he is.

You only know that seeing him break is bending your will, the way the wind outside is bending the trees. All you can hope is that, like the tall trees, you won’t break.

*****

                The storm calmed down sometime around midnight. San ended up falling asleep on the couch, as you’d reassuringly ran your hand through his hair, trying to keep him with you. Though you think he’s been slipping through your fingers, into his demons.

You’ll find a way to bring him back. You have to. Turns out it comes faster than you think, as the electricity runs out and you busy yourself with lighting some candles throughout the main room. When you’re done, you put a blanket over him, and you almost let out a startled scream as his eyes shot open.

“Hello,” you say, resting a hand on your heart to tame the wild beats.

You’re about to move away, but he grabs your hand, forcing you to sit next to him. You don’t really resist, though you think you probably should. You’re weak – weaker still when he murmurs your name.

“San,” you whisper in return, and you’re aware your voice carries too much longing. Longing for a past when life’s atrocities hadn’t changed either of you yet.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, and a tear rolls on his cheek.

You dry it, fingers lingering there. “It’s okay.”

“Angel…”

The nickname brings you back to laser quests and favours and warmth creeping up your stomach for the first time in your life.

“I’m no angel,” you breathe.

“You saved me.”

You hold his gaze. There’s something hiding behind his pupils. The need, to forget. You don’t think you have the ability to run his mind through amnesia, but still you brush his cheek again.

“You deserved saving.”

His eyes glaze once more, though this time no tears fall. “It’s hard to believe it.”

“Do you still believe love is a laser quest?” you ask him, out of the blue.

As if you’re a line straight of that Arctic Monkeys song you listened to the first time you kissed.

“Maybe,” he says, a parallel to that first time you had asked the question. “Maybe it is.”

You can’t resist. You lean down, and you press the gentlest kiss on his lips. His are dry, but the way he sighs with you against him is soft, for your heart and for your mind, and you kiss him again. He lets you lead, follows the dance of your lips, lets you run your hand through his sweaty hair.

Even if you shouldn’t. Even if you know everything you’re doing right now is a mistake, you still find yourself deepening the kiss, opening your lips to slip your tongue out, teasing his mouth. One of his hands finds your thigh, and he squeezes ever so slightly as his tongue finds yours, and you let out a breathy sound.

When you pull away, eyes fluttering open, you find San’s gaze. You think about the boy he was then, the girl you were then. You think about who you were, together. And when he says, “Please make me forget”, you lean again, capturing his mouth in a languid kiss.

For a reason unknown, the summer sky and falling stars pale in comparison to this kiss. Maybe because it holds longing, nostalgia. Hope that life would have turned out differently. For a moment, you picture what it would have been like, without Ateez. With you and him in the field, in your family house, in a car driving by the beach, windows down as the sun sets and you sing along to the radio, wind blowing in your hair.

You see a whole life there, with you and him marrying in the field, under the sun that had been the host of your first love. You imagine growing up by his side, attending college with him in the big city. You imagine how he would have become the owner of his own construction company, like his dad before him. You picture kids laughing, running around the house he would have built for you. You see Christmas light, late nights antics by the firelight.

You see it all, and you know you’ll never have any of it. But if you can have tonight, then you’ll grab it before it slips through your fingers. Before he walks away in the rain again, only to be a memory you cherish in the deepest corners of your heart.

“How?” you ask him when you pull away.

Mostly, you’re asking how to make him forget. But you’re also asking how it is that the feelings are still there, even stronger now, as if they’ve grown up with you, yet haven’t changed like you have. Like they are a constant of an ever-changing universe.

“Kiss me again,” he asks, begs, and you give in. You kiss him wildly, always making sure not to touch his side and the stitches.

You know sex would be a stupid idea, especially with the fresh stitches. But also because he’s barely had time to recover. But he doesn’t really give you a choice, pulling you on top of him until you’re straddling him.

You sit back on him for a second, eyes trailing to the spot where you know the stitches are. “This isn’t a good idea,” you whisper through the ragged breaths caused by the ministrations of his mouth on yours and of yours on his.

“I’m fine,” he says, and you know you shouldn’t believe him. But when he pulls you down again, large hand holding the nape of your neck firmly so you don’t escape, you want to believe him.

Want to believe the beauty of his lies, like you had when you were younger.

From where you’re perched, you can feel the start of his erection pressing against you, and you moan softly in the kiss, rolling your hips. His mouth falls open, and you capture his tongue, sucking on it once before you pull away, leaving hot kisses on his jaw.

“Sit on my face,” he says, and he sounds out of his mind. Crazed, a little like you too feel at the moment.

“What?”

“Can’t get hurt if you sit on my face, angel,” he explains, and then hisses when you suck a hickey on his neck.

You let him pull your shirt off, unclasping your bra yourself as you sit back on his lap. He cups your breasts, rolling your erect nipples between his thumbs and indexes. You moan again, grinding your hips into his, and he hisses once more.

“You want to taste me?” you ask, head throwing back as he pinches your nipples hard.

“I’d fuck you, but you’re the doctor. Can’t risk fucking up my stitches, huh?” he replies, voice low and husky.

Your core heats up, pussy clenching around nothing. This is a side of him you’ve never seen, though you spy desperation beneath it. Like he thinks he doesn’t have forever, when it comes to you.

He’s right. Because tomorrow, you’ll have to go back into town, into the hellscape you call home. What will be left of the two of you then?

So when he tugs at your pants, you give in and get up, taking off your pants and panties in one swift motion. You step out of them, blood heating up by the way he’s looking at you through half-lidded eyes, gaze burning on you.

You have half a thought that you could probably ride him instead of his face, but when you see his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips, making them glisten in the candlelight, you need to know what it’ll feel like against you.

So you straddle his face as he guides you down, large hands pushing on your thighs until your pussy is a hairsbreadth away from his lips. He blows on it, and your eyes shut with sensitivity. You clutch the cushion of the couch, hoping it’ll help steady you, but the moment his tongue flicks at your clit, you realize nothing will be able to steady you. Yet you still hold onto it, especially as he dives his tongue between your folds, lapping up your juice. He moans in contentment, before moving to your clit again. And his tongue is wicked down there, like it knows exactly what you like.

You grab a handful of his hair, grinding into his face. You’re pretty sure he’s chuckling down there, and then he unleashes himself. Sucking hard, alternating circling motions to teasing you with his teeth. You’d expect the latter to hurt, but the way he does it just makes you see stars, and your pussy clenches around nothing again.

San is deadly good with his mouth. Both with crafting lies and pulling moans out of you, and your thighs tighten against his face as he sucks particularly hard, before dipping his tongue inside of you. His nose brushes your clit, and then he forces you to properly sit on him.

The way his tongue moves inside of you, lapping up your juices while opening you up, has you on the brink of an orgasm in no time. Especially as he makes you grind again, holding you tight into place. When one of his hands moves from around your thigh to reach your clit, you cry out, head throwing back.

He’s quick to rub at your sensitive clit, and you grab one of your breasts, massaging it mindlessly before you pinch your nipple, hard, right in time with a skilled swipe of his tongue. Your orgasm meets you there, shaking through you as it explodes in a blinding flash of light. You moan, loudly, something that resembles his name, and he keeps you going, guides you through your high until you cringe with oversensitivity.

Only then does he let you climb off from his face. You stand on wobbly legs, before deciding to sit next to him, and you catch sight of the smirk on his lips. It makes you blush, right as you realize what you’ve just done.

When you realize what kind of sinful activity he’s dragged you in, this time around.

“Gosh,” is all you manage to say.

He chuckles, clearly proud with himself. “That felt good?”

You worry at your bottom lip, eyes going down to the tent in his pants. You want to pleasure him too, to take him in your mouth and make him feel good, but he stops you with a hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Don’t.”

You still and you meet his gaze with slightly-widened eyes. “Why not?”

His features turn somber, haunted, and the heat of the moment passes so quickly you think it might have been a figment of your imagination.

Were you really riding his face just a moment ago?

“Please just lay next to me,” he says, barely even a whisper.

You don’t know a lot of men that would choose cuddling over getting a blowjob, but if that is what he wants, then you’ll give it to him. You lay next to him, glad that the injured side is closer to the couch. That way, you can cuddle up to him, resting your head on his shoulder while he wraps an arm around you.

“Angel,” he murmurs after a time. “You’re a fucking angel. I think you’re my salvation.”

You highly doubt you hold this kind of power, but you don’t want to tell him. Have never been good at weaving beautiful lies for him to believe.

“We should stay here,” he continues. “Forever.”

And you wish you could. Wish reality didn’t exist, didn’t call for you to go back to your regular life like you’ve never been here with him. But you know tomorrow exists, and you’ll have to leave.

“We should have stayed in the field,” you choose to answer. “Under the shooting stars.”

“I wished for a lifetime with you, then,” he admits. “I wished I’d never have to let you go.”

You’d wished for a similar thing, but life is far too cruel to allow a world of first loves.

“Why did you…” you trail off. The question has haunted your sleepless nights for a long time after the break-up. Even years later, you’d still think about it sometimes, wondering if nostalgia would choke you up. “Why did you decide to join the gang?”

He tenses next to you. But you start tracing a mindless circle on his chest, through the shirt, and it distracts him enough for him to reply. “I thought I didn’t have a choice.”

“Did you?”

His voice holds the weight of the world when he says, “I did. And I made the wrong one.”

You want to cry, but you’re older now. You’re not the teenager who thought she was going to die from losing him anymore. You know what living without Choi San is like, and as much as it hurts, you know that it’s doable.

“You made the one you believed was right,” you say carefully. “But I do wish you had made a different one.”

He holds you a little tighter, as if that will make it so tomorrow never comes. “Me too.”

There’s an eternity of flickering candlelight on the ceiling, of the circles you trace on his chest and of your breathings forming a melody. Outside, the wind has died down, and the world is silent except from an occasional cricket braving the world after the storm.

“Where will you go, once you graduate?” he asks, taking you by surprise.

Because he knows. It’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed.

“As far away from here as I can.”

“I hope you find peace, wherever you go,” he whispers. “I hope you forget all about how we grew up in a hellhole.”

Do you feel bad for saying it? Maybe. But you can’t help saying it anyway. “I will, San.”

And like that rainy day years ago, you think you can see him walk away.

*****

Seven years later

The winter sun is strangely bright, up above. You’d think it will warm you up, but the cold is relentless, violent, and it sneaks into your coat as you walk out of the hospital. You’ve just finished a thirty-hour shift, and you can’t wait to be home.

To take a shower and forget that you’ve lost a patient today.

But you’ve saved another. A young man, with a stab wound in his ribs that should have killed him. But you saved him, stabilized his condition to the point you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Which is the only reason why you’re allowing yourself to leave now.

You’re never able to leave until you know your patients are okay. It’s been that way since your first patient, in a cabin in the woods you’ve done your best to forget.

You’d let San stay, after that weekend. He had given you the number of one of his friends, so you could get some clothes for him, and you’d gone back the next weekend. Bringing him the clothes, making love to him under the moonlight as if that would change the ending.

The following week, you had gone back to find the cabin empty. He’d left a note behind.

I hope I can find you again, wherever you go.

You kept the note. It’s in your bedside table, back at home, in the nice apartment you’ve been able to rent for yourself with all the money you’ve been making now. Enough to pay back student loans from med school, enough to reassure you that never again will you struggle.

You’ve never seen San again after. He hasn’t found you, and you haven’t searched for him. Have only looked up his name a couple of times, in the months following his disappearing, scared you’d find out that he was found dead in a ditch. But his name never came up, and you wondered if he had managed to escape, if he had managed to find a place where Bangtan couldn’t reach him.

You found peace, on your side of the country. Life is kinder here, though it still holds the same atrocities. You wonder if it’s the novelty of the city, or maybe if you’ve just grown old enough to be able to withstand the bad that the world throws your way. It’s hard to tell – you haven’t kept contact with anyone from back home, except Jae-on.

Jae-on, who’s moved with you when you’ve decided to come here, like he said he would. Jae-on, who asked you to marry him in late October, and you said yes. The ring sits heavy on your finger, and you mindlessly play with it.

In another world, you would already be married to Choi San. Sometimes, you catch glimpses of that world – a piercing gaze in the morning, a smile and a kiss to your temple. Talks about angels, children screaming in happiness. In another world, you’d be pregnant again, waiting patiently to add another piece of you and him to this world.

It’s fun to think about, sometimes, but you’ve been good at forgetting. Like you told him you would – most times, you’ve forgotten all about Choi San.

But today, you had a patient that reminded you of him. So you allow yourself to feel, you allow yourself to think about that note tucked in the bottom drawer of your bedside table, hidden under the thick socks you never use.

You allow yourself to think about the cabin in the woods, about the field where you would have gotten married had you been in that picturesque world you like to imagine. You think about laser quests and first kiss and rainy days and meteors. You think about summer, about wildflowers and him.

You’re so lost in thought you miss your stop home, and you begrudgingly get out at the next one. You’re tired, and your hands are shaking as you pull your phone out of your tote bag, wanting to text Jae-on that you’re going to be home late because you missed your stop. You walk to the other side of the tracks, sighing when you see a five-minutes wait for the next subway.

At least the sun is high in the sky, even though it is dreadfully cold. You shiver, putting your phone back in your tote bag so you can hide your hands in your sleeves again, hoping it’ll preserve them from the cold.

In your exhaustion, you forgot your gloves back at the hospital, you realize. It’s strange that you only realize now, and you reckon you really need to sleep, because your brain isn’t even working right anymore.

You sigh, glancing at the display showing the time. Still four minutes to wait. You think at this rhythm you might freeze in your spot before the next subway comes. You try to hide your face in the lapel of your coat, but a movement on the other platform attracts your gaze.

A man is helping an older woman climb down the stairs. She’s speaking loudly, which might be what attracted your gaze in the first place. You follow them as they walk down the stairs, and then when the man turns towards you, you meet his piercing gaze.

He smiles, and you realize that maybe, all those years ago, he was not spinning lies to you after all.

☆☆☆☆☆

Gosh yeahhh rereading it had me ralize that it is a lot sadder than I remembered it to be. At least we got an open ending ... :') What did we think? Should I write about other groups more often? Let me know what you think! All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate

Taglist:

@btsborahaee

[gwojo]

Gojo Satoru as your bf

FEATURING: Gojo Satoru (五条悟)

gojo satoru x gn!reader, fluff, slight angst if u squint, basically just the things he'd do for you bc of how much he luvs u! wordcount: 622

We all know THEEEEE gojo satoru is so whipped when it comes to being in-love?! Some probably think he'll be clueless but when it comes to you, he's so knowledgeable with everything related to you

It started off as a lil crush on you and obviously we all know gojo is shameless when it comes to his feelings (except for dark and deep ones) so he kept on reminding u everyday that he had a interest on you

You both end up with each other while his students were also cheering you both on (it was so cute bc yuji was the happiest)

We all know gojo satoru is a very busy man, despite that he still makes time just to see you everyday, even making the higher ups angry due to him leaving his students in a abandoned hospital and he'd leave just to travel to you and see you.

Messages between you both weren't frequent, he will always find a way to see you irl but whenever he has to go overseas as his punishment for leaving his students without any supervision, that's where your notifications are FLOODING. LIKE NONSTOP.

Although he's at work at most times, he still somehow messages you??? like a lot?? so you ask him about it and he tells you that he messages u even when he's on a battle with cursed spirits

Honestly there would be more voice messages or calls in both of your dms because I reckon he's more of a call guy rather than a text guy

He'd always rant to you about how annoying the higher ups are and stuff, he's SUPER talkative but he always lets you speak first or after so you don't feel left out bc he rlly loves hearing ur voice

He's much of a "if he wanted to, he would" typa guy and honestly even if he didn't want to do it he would still do it for you, like even HIS FAVORITE Kikufuku he would still give it to you because of how much he loves you, he acts stingy most of the time but he'll always end up giving it to you

Whenever you have panic attacks or just anything general with having a bad day which results you into getting breakdowns, he'd always be there for you no matter what. Kisses and hugs, food, everything you ever loved, and him ofc

He never hated anything about you honestly, he just loved who you are and whenever you get insecure about the girls who chases him–he always end up flexing his wallet and his phone in front of their faces, why? because your face was plastered everywhere in it. LIKE EVEN HIS PHONE CASE IS YOU TAKING A MIRROR SELFIE, polaroid pictures were frequent with u (he keeps a pic of u in his wallet and also his students, even tho he doesn't use wallets.)

He'd call you "love, baby, sugarboo" most of the time, he's just so silly. He's a unserious guy tbh but he knows when to stop and where to stop whenever you actually get upset

Whenever he's upset because he got jealous when you were catching up with your bestfriend, he would stop talking to you or ignore you once you got home (trust me. he won't last after 20 minutes max.) so he gets all pouty but partially its a joke because he really trusts you with all his heart and he knows you won't replace him but he also gets upset and just a little kiss from you, he'll be back to normal (basically just bragging about how hot he is).. He'll always crave your presence no matter what, and nothing and no one will change that.

reblogs are appreciated! thank you for reading.

— © gwojo 2023. pls i advise u not to share on tiktok, plagiarize, repost on other platforms, copy, or translate.

[steddieas-shegoes]

For the requests: traumatized steve & eddie going to a wolf sanctuary and eddie watching steve basically live with the wolves in their area. And the one wolf,the one that hated everyone, the one who meaner and didn't get along with anyone to its cruel abusive situation (perhaps it was raised from puppyhood and onwards by people who used it in dogfighting, before it was rescued, that wolf, goes right up to Steve and sits by him. Giving him comfort. When Steve has bad nightmares he goes to that wolf's pen and they sleep cuddled together bc that wolf also has nightmares. (It can also be a wolfdog)

AS ALWAYS YOU COME THROUGH WITH SOMETHING FUN AND CREATIVE AND AS ALWAYS I MAKE IT EMOTIONAL AS SHIT!!! I was feelin' some type of way yesterday and started on this at peak emotional upheaval, which is really something I don't recommend. As many things tend to do, this got away from me and I think I could've still let it keep going, but I had to cut it off. Hope you love it!!! - Mickala ❤️

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

It was Robin’s idea.

She knew therapy wasn’t working. She knew firsthand that the nightmares, especially Steve’s, were impossible to handle some nights.

She stayed with him enough after the Russians to know he was averaging four hours of restless sleep on a good night.

And now that he’d seen the horrors of the Upside Down, and Eddie almost dying, and Max almost dying, and the guilt of just existing, they were worse.

Eddie had them, but he was usually able to calm down relatively quickly, usually even fall back into a dreamless sleep after.

His problem was just seeing the bats everywhere, even when he was awake. A large bird would fly by and he was ducking for cover like a bomb would be dropped on him. He’d hear screeching, sometimes even just kids yelling at the park, and he’d have a panic attack.

Drastically different problems, but Robin said this could help with both of them.

So Steve and Eddie stood outside the wolf sanctuary, staring at the front office entrance where they were told to check in.

They glanced at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

It’s not that they were scared. They’d been told about the process on the phone in great detail, the sanctuary director answering all of their questions in a friendly tone.

She’d said that the wolf sanctuary had been used as a form of therapy for people for years now, though many psychiatrists didn’t consider it an appropriate treatment.

Considering Steve and Eddie had been seeing a professional psychiatrist for months now with no progress and serious weight loss and migraines from their prescriptions, they were willing to give this a fair shot.

But their fear that it wouldn’t work kept circling through their minds.

If this didn’t work, they weren’t sure what else they could possibly try.

That was terrifying.

They were supposed to stay for a month, with the option of extending the stay if they felt they needed it.

It was expensive.

But this was on the US government, and Eddie was always quick to spend their money for his benefit.

Steve was just along for the ride.

They walked in together, both nervously looking around at the chairs and desks, bookshelves, pictures of wolves and mountains on the walls, and one small, gray-haired woman at the front desk.

“Oh, aren’t you two precious! Which one’s Steve and which one’s Eddie?”

“I’m Steve,” Eddie smirked as he held out his hand.

Steve smacked his arm.

“He’s Eddie, and he’s probably gonna be this way the whole time. Sorry in advance,” Steve told the woman.

“This is wonderful! You’ll be fun to have around. I’m Fran, I run the front office. I spoke to you the other day on the phone a bit about the check in. Are you boys ready?”

They both nodded.

She clapped her hands together in excitement.

Steve could tell Eddie loved her. She was full of theatrics like he was, every word punctuated by an exaggerated movement.

“First, the boring part. We did some of the first part over the phone, but these packets need to be filled out completely and given back to me. You can have a seat anywhere to do those. When that’s done, I’ll show you where to bring your bags so you can unpack and get comfortable. We can do a tour before dinner.”

She placed the packets on the desk in front of her, then took two pens out of a mug and placed them down too.

“If you have any questions, let me know. You two are just the cutest!”

She walked through a small doorway a few feet behind her desk and they grabbed the packets to start filling them out.

The first page was basic personal information, which had been filled out already. The second page was emergency contact information and how they were referred. But the third page is where it got difficult.

It has questions like “What is your worst memory?” and “Who is the person you would most expect to protect you in a life or death situation? Why?”

And while Eddie and Steve could probably answer those easily from terrible experiences, there was a lot they weren’t allowed to say.

So they just stuck with the official government stories for any and all Upside Down related parts, which was most of them.

Fran bustled back in, two steaming mugs in her hands. She set them on her desk carefully and then walked over to where Eddie was sitting.

“How’s it going?”

“Good. Almost done,” he smiled up at her.

“And you, dear?” She asked Steve.

“Good. I’m sorry I write kind of slow.”

Steve’s face was red, like he was embarrassed. Eddie watched as he focused on the paper in front of him, his hand moving slowly across the paper.

Steve’s concussions had a lot of lasting effects; migraines and one ear that was barely working, the occasional speech delay, and an inconvenient struggle with writing, especially if it was answering questions about himself like this.

Eddie distracted Fran as he wrote his last answer, talking to her about her favorite part of the sanctuary and how long she’s been working here.

He handed the packet to her when he was done, glancing over at Steve to see he was just starting on the last page.

“Hey, Fran, would it be okay if you helped me get our bags from the car while Steve finishes up?”

Steve sent him a grateful smile as he continued answering the questions on the paper.

As he walked with Fran to the car, she touched his arm.

“He’s got a lot going on, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. He’s been dealing with this a lot longer than I have,” Eddie smiled sadly at her, touching her hand to accept the comfort she was giving and give some in return. “I hope this works for both of us, but I’d be happy as long as it works for him.”

“You care a lot about him.”

It wasn’t a question, and her tone wasn’t judging, but Eddie could just tell. He should panic, he should tell her it wasn’t like that. And it wasn’t for Steve.

But he’d been hiding it for so long, and somehow successfully, he couldn’t lie to her.

“I love him. He doesn’t know how much. I did this for him, mostly. I mean I want it to help me too, but I know he wouldn’t have tried this if I didn’t come and he,” Eddie sighed. “He needs this. He can’t keep going like he has been.”

Fran pulled him into a hug and he did all he could not to start crying.

“He’s lucky to have you on his side no matter what, darling. And I’d bet anything he thinks the same of you,” she said softly.

“I don’t think it’s quite the same. He loves me like a friend, but he’s not…not like me.”

Gay. He wasn’t gay. Or even a little into men. Eddie was sure of that.

Fran pulled away and just smiled at him.

“Okay, then. Let’s get these bags inside.”

They managed to bring everything in in one trip, and by the time they made it back inside, Steve was done with his packet.

“Alright!” Fran clapped her hands together in excitement. “To your room!”

Eddie’s eyes widened.

“Room? Like, just one?”

“Yep! The other room we have for long-term residents is already taken for the next few weeks. Will that be okay?”

She was smiling innocently at Eddie, who knew she knew why he was suddenly panicking.

“That’s fine. We end up sharing a room all the time, right, Eds?” Steve asked as he grabbed his own bags from the floor.

“Uh. Yep. Totally fine.”

“Great!”

She led them out the back of the front office, down the sidewalk that led to a row of small buildings.

“This first building is storage. The next one is the short-term stays, usually people who donate frequently to keep us running, staying for a night or two to see where their money goes. This next building is for long-term stays. That’s you two. It’s split into a duplex, so you’ll have basically a studio apartment in there. Kitchen, bathroom, living area with a sectioned off area as the bedroom. You each will have a key, but keep in mind that the director also has a key for emergencies. The janitorial staff only goes if requested, so let me know if you feel it needs a sprucing up or you need new sheets or anything. Fridge is stocked and gets restocked every two weeks.” She paused as they made it to the steps to the building. “Oh! We don’t technically have a curfew for the guests. You’re adults and we trust you on your journey here. But we do ask that you try to be back no later than 11, as we often shut off many of the trail lights by midnight to ensure the animals have the closest replica of the wild as possible.”

Steve and Eddie nodded, eyes wide at all the information being thrown at them so quickly.

“Your room has a phone of course. You’re free to use as often as you’d like. Pressing 1 gets you in touch with the front office, 2 is for security, 3 is for the director’s office. I recommend calling the front office unless it’s an emergency so we can get in touch with the right people for you. After your tour, you’ll have free reign over the entire sanctuary except for anywhere marked employees and volunteers only. That’s for your safety, of course. We encourage you to be a part of some of the educational tours and seminars that we offer to the general public as well as enjoy time on your own with the wolves. Volunteers are here every day from 9 to 5, and the employees who help care for the wolves stay until 11. We have security here 24/7, but the director usually has a couple people on staff remain after regular hours in case of an animal emergency.”

This felt a little overwhelming, but he could already tell Steve was more relaxed here than he’d been anywhere else since he met him.

“I work when they need me, but my home number is by the phone in there for you just in case you need a chat. I retired a couple years ago so I spend a lot of my time at home with my dog. You’re never a bother, okay?”

They both nodded.

She hugged them both, handed them their keys, and started to walk away.

“Your tour will be in about an hour. James is running it today. You’ll love him!”

She was gone before they could even respond, so they looked back to each other and shrugged before heading inside.

The main door was unlocked, but the door inside marked with a “2” was locked. Steve unlocked it and pushed the door open.

The apartment was nice, but small, smaller than either of them had expected.

“Guess we’ll be getting pretty close for the next month, huh?” Steve joked.

Eddie’s heart was in his throat.

He could see the “bedroom” from where he stood. It was one queen sized bed. One.

“Um. Yep. Guess so. I can take the couch,” Eddie rushed out.

Steve clearly hadn’t seen the sleeping arrangement yet or he would have probably offered. He’s a self-sacrificing idiot, so Eddie had to rush to offer before he could.

“What? Why?”

Eddie gestured towards the bed.

“There’s plenty of room for both of us, dude. A month on the couch isn’t exactly gonna help with the nightmares.”

“It looks pretty cozy.”

Steve just stared at him, brows raised like Eddie was an idiot.

He was an idiot, but he didn’t need Steve thinking it.

“Eddie. Seriously. We can share a bed.”

Steve wouldn’t let him win, it’s just not who Steve was.

“Okay, okay! Let’s just unpack so we can go see some wolves or whatever.”

They unpacked in silence, Steve taking the spot closest to the door without Eddie having a choice.

Self-sacrificing idiot.

—--------------

James knocked on their door at exactly 4:00, like he’d been standing there waiting for the clock to change over from 3:59.

“Hello! I’m James. You’re Steve and Eddie?”

They all shook hands and James started explaining things quickly.

James was only a bit older than them, wearing a volunteer shirt that had seen better days, and had the energy of Dustin.

“So! I’m gonna show you the lay of the land, you can ask me questions, I can try to answer them, and then I can drop you off back here so you can eat. The first night can be a bit of an adjustment, so feel free to give me a call if you have trouble. My number is under Fran’s,” James spoke rapid-fire, but not so fast they couldn’t keep up. They were used to that, anyway.

“So to start, everything you guys really need is along this main trail.” He pointed the way they came earlier and then the other direction. “That way leads to our nutrition area for the wolves, which you are welcome to visit anytime during the day to help or feed some of the rehabilitated wolves in the building nextdoor which is the hospital. The hospital is only open to the guests staying here and employees from 12-5, just because much of the mornings are spent performing surgeries or checkups. You’re encouraged to spend time with any of the wolves there in recovery as it helps their spirits much like a person. But if you take the left at the fork in this trail, you’ll be led to other trails. The first one is the wolf enclosures, which I’m taking you to now.” He kept walking as he spoke, moving his hands constantly, big smile keeping Eddie and Steve enthralled.

“We have one specifically for the ones we’ve rescued who are still healing from injuries, and that one is off limits to everyone between dusk and dawn. Many of these wolves are relearning how to be wild and part of that is using the night to hunt. Being in their cage during those times could be dangerous. They wouldn’t necessarily eat you,” he paused to laugh. “But they may take a bite. Now! The second enclosure is where we keep Herald. You can laugh at his name.” Eddie let out a small laugh.

“Herald had a rough upbringing. He was rescued about six months ago from a traveling circus that had abused him for at least a few years. We think he’s about 5 years old, but can’t be 100% certain. He’s hesitant around all people, even the director. He can be very unpredictable, so only the director, vet, and head nutritionist are allowed in there. You’re welcome to visit from the outside anytime you’d like though! He’s shy, but it can’t hurt having people talk to him.”

James was walking pretty quickly, and if Steve wasn’t so in shape, he’d be struggling. He looked over at Eddie. Eddie was struggling a little, but didn’t want to stop or slow down.

“And the last enclosure is for the rest of the wolves. These are ones that may be reintroduced to the wild soon or who may have been rescued without injuries, but just aren’t ready to go yet. This enclosure has a few areas for public access. The first being the feeding area, the second being the petting area. The petting area is only able to be accessed when employees or volunteers are present. The third area is only for guests staying long term such as yourselves.”

James walked them through a gate off to the side of the enclosure.

“This area is my favorite in the whole sanctuary. It’s their den area. It’s not recommended to come alone, and you should always go to the petting area to meet them first, but this area is nice for anyone who wants to feel like a part of the pack.”

“We can go in there?”

“Again, it’s definitely recommended to meet the wolves in the petting area first, maybe feed them a few times to show them you’re a friend, but yes.”

“Huh.”

Eddie watched Steve’s reaction.

This was much more involved than they expected to be.

“So that’s the enclosures! The next part of this trail leads to a walking and biking trail that is a great way to see some nature without having to leave the area. It’s snake season, though, so make sure you know your snake safety beforehand and bring the provided whistle with you in case of an emergency. Volunteers and employees are always within hearing distance during normal hours and can usually respond within 3-4 minutes.”

“Could we go back to Herald?”

Eddie’s head snapped to Steve, who was looking at James with a kind smile.

“Oh. Well, sure. The only other thing I needed to show you was the trail leading to the lake, but we can go back after.”

So James backtracked, Steve and Eddie close on his heels.

They got to the enclosure with Herald, but didn’t see him.

“He likes to hide. Especially if it isn’t close to meal time, he doesn’t usually come close to the fence. His den is hidden away.”

Steve kept walking up to the fence as James spoke, Eddie watching and trying to figure out what was going on.

“Herald? You there?” Steve called gently into the fence. Wolves had excellent hearing, and he’d probably already heard them approach. “You can come say hi if you want to.”

Eddie stood next to Steve, looking out at the area in the enclosure. There was a good mix of forest and empty area, with plenty of things that were probably used as toys scattered around. He watched for any sign of movement, listened for any trotting over.

Nothing.

Steve looked incredibly disappointed, but James walked closer and gave them both a smile.

“Like I said, Herald isn’t very social and it’s nothing personal. He doesn’t even seem to like the director and all the wolves love her.”

But Eddie knew Steve. He knew that he wasn’t gonna let that shit go.

“Alright! Shall we head to the trail by the lake?”

Eddie watched as Steve sighed, but nodded.

—--------------

Steve cooked them dinner that evening, said it helped him relax and that he would feel more at home if he got into a routine.

Eddie wouldn’t complain; He loved Steve’s cooking.

He made a basic spaghetti dish, even toasted some bread and sprinkled some garlic powder on it to make garlic bread.

They sat at the small table by the front door and ate in silence.

“It’s really quiet here.”

Eddie looked up to see Steve staring down at his plate, biting his lip nervously.

“It’s kind of nice though. Peaceful.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie knew what he was worried about.

He was worried the silence would make him have more nightmares instead of less, that he’d be left with nothing to help him if this failed.

“Hey,” Eddie reached over and patted Steve’s hand that rested on the table. “I’m here, alright? You won’t be alone.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, only slightly relaxing back into his seat.

—--------------

The next day was relaxed.

They walked along the main trail after breakfast, happy to see Fran again and meet some new people.

They stopped at Herald’s enclosure, but still didn’t see or hear him.

Steve was disappointed, but it was hidden away when they were able to feed and pet some of the other wolves before lunch.

The wolves were all beautiful, clearly well taken care of, and even the ones still in recovery were cleaned, well-fed, and cared for by the team.

Eddie quickly had a favorite: Mabel. She was an “old woman” as the employee at the feeding area said. She was 12 years old, had been brought in from the side of the road after being hit. She had had a broken leg and many broken ribs, along with cuts that needed stitches. Not the worst they’d seen, but due to her being nearly 11 at the time, they didn’t expect her to pull through. She did though, and had quickly become known as the leader of the group. All the wolves respected her, it was clear even to Eddie and Steve. She was the first to the feeding area, the first to the petting area, and would often stand guard over the others as they went into the shared spaces.

She was light brown with gray speckled throughout, her scars visible, but mostly covered with hair.

Steve loved Mabel, too, but he still had his heart set on Herald.

Eddie wasn’t stupid. He knew why Steve was so fixated on him.

Someone who was abused and hidden away and expected to perform every day for crowds of people? Yeah, Steve and Herald had quite a bit in common.

He just didn’t want him to get his hopes up for nothing.

After lunch, they decided to walk over to the nutrition center, maybe learn something new.

It was educational, and fun, and Eddie said multiple times how much he wished actual school had been like this.

The nutritionists let them help set up all the wolves’ dinners, showing them portion sizes for each of the wolves, telling them what the wolves’ favorites were. How they celebrated birthdays for them.

It was fun. Steve even cracked some smiles throughout.

—--------------

That night was rough.

Steve had fallen asleep quickly, much to Eddie’s delight, but it didn’t last long.

Eddie was woken up not long after he fell asleep by whimpering. He glanced at the alarm clock by the bed. 10:38. Barely an hour.

He knew from experience that waking Steve up would just make things worse for him, so he gently set his hand on Steve’s side, the best support he could give right now.

It physically pained Eddie to watch Steve’s face tighten in fear and sadness, whatever his nightmare was this time painting a horrifying picture he couldn’t escape.

Steve had mentioned once that his worst nightmares weren’t even about reliving anything that happened. They weren’t anyone dying, though he had those too. They weren’t even him dying.

They were everyone turning on him, finally seeing he wasn’t worth their time or effort, leaving him alone in that big empty house just like his parents did. He said the worst part was when Robin and Eddie left in the nightmare. When they looked at him with disgust and said he wasn’t good enough for the kids, and he damn sure wasn’t good enough for them.

No matter how many times they told him that would never be true, he still had them.

Ten minutes went by, agonizingly slowly, tears falling down Steve’s face. Eddie was whispering words of comfort, hoping that somehow Steve could hear him, but knowing he probably couldn’t.

But finally, Steve’s eyes opened, the whimpering stopped, and he was no longer hearing and seeing what hurt him the most.

He sat up and wiped his eyes, but the tears kept coming and his breathing was still labored.

Eddie sat up with him, hand on his arm, thumb rubbing back and forth to keep him present.

“I think I need to walk it off,” Steve said, voice wet with tears still to come.

“Okay. Do you want me to come with you?”

Steve shook his head.

“No, go back to sleep. I’ll only be out for a few minutes.”

And as much as Eddie knew that was a lie, and knew he should probably go with Steve, he had to trust him.

He’d be safe. He had to be.

—--------------

Steve walked aimlessly up and down the main trail for 10 minutes, trying to breathe in the fresh air, focus on his surroundings.

It wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped, but it was better than staying in bed and letting Eddie see him like this.

Eddie was too kind, always. He was bright, like the sun and the stars and the moon on a clear night. He was everything. And if Steve let himself be too vulnerable, too much, Eddie would take that light.

He lost track of where he was going, his breaths coming in sharper pants now as he let more tears fall.

A noise made him freeze.

Leaves rustling.

He looked up to see Herald’s enclosure in front of him. And…

Herald.

Herald was huge, much bigger than any of the other wolves they’d seen so far. He was beautiful. Scars along his legs showing that he had been abused awfully before coming here, but the rest of him glowed with health. He was standing about eight feet from the fence, trying to hide some of his body still behind the bushes along the forest line.

Steve slowly made his way to the fence, his hands up to show he wasn’t going to cause any harm.

Herald didn’t come closer, but he didn’t back or run away either.

Steve counted that as a win.

He instantly slumped to the ground at the fence, his hands and head resting against the chain links like they were the only thing keeping him upright. Maybe they were.

Steve closed his eyes.

He was so focused on staying calm, he couldn’t hear Herald approach. But he suddenly felt a cold, wet nose against his head.

He didn’t panic, he didn’t want to scare Herald, but he realized suddenly that his fingers were very much easily accessed by sharp teeth.

He let Herald sniff him, then slowly looked up.

Herald was tilting his head at him, almost as if he was asking if he was okay.

That made Steve sob.

Herald jumped slightly, but then moved so he was completely against the fence, laying down so his warm body could be against Steve’s.

Steve slowly let his hands fall, reaching through the fence slowly to let them rest in Herald’s fur.

He felt the wolf sigh, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, I get it. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone care, huh? You’re so soft,” Steve whispered, knowing Herald was still not completely relaxed around him.

“You tired?”

Steve felt a little silly for asking a wolf a question, but he felt even sillier when he realized Herald had just moved his head up and down. It was probably a coincidence, but the timing was crazy.

“Me too. We should get some sleep.”

Herald huffed and rolled his head back against the fence.

“Want me to stay?”

Herald huffed again.

“Okay.”

So Steve stayed.

He sat down on the ground, back against the fence, and listened to the crickets and the steady breaths of Herald.

He was woken up by Eddie shaking him and a growl coming from behind him.

“Steve! Jesus, I thought you’d got lost or died or something.”

“How long have I been out here?”

“It’s nearly two in the morning!”

Herald was growling behind him, protectively pacing behind Steve like he would find a way to get through the fence if Eddie tried to hurt him.

“Hey, Herald, it’s okay. This is Eddie. He’s here with me. He’s my friend,” Steve said calmly, holding his hand through the fence so Herald could sniff him and see he was okay.

“Steve! Get your hand out of there. He isn’t friendly, remember?”

“Oh, please. He just slept by me for hours and let me hold his fur like he was a stuffed animal. He’s plenty friendly.”

Eddie just stared, jaw slack, as he realized Steve was right.

Herald was licking Steve’s hand, leaving his scent on him like he was trying to provide as much protection as possible.

“You made friends with the only wolf here who hates people. Unbelievable.”

“Hey, be nice. He just needs some love is all.”

Eddie nodded. Yeah, him and another person with a name that started with S and rhymed with sleeve.

Eddie’s heart had been racing for the last 15 minutes since he woke up and realized Steve wasn’t in bed next to him or anywhere in the apartment.

He finally took a deep breath, balling his shaking hands into fists and stuffing them into the pocket of his hoodie.

“We should head back inside, Stevie.”

Steve seemed to notice Eddie wasn’t doing so great.

“I’m alright, Eds. Hey, look at me.” Eddie looked at Steve’s face, the way he seemed more relaxed than when he first left after his nightmare. “I’m okay. I must have fallen asleep.”

Eddie took a deep breath, resting his head against Steve’s shoulder as he let it out.

“I thought you were gone.”

“Nah, you can’t get rid of me now.”

“No?”

“Nope. Herald and I are just good friends, but you’re still-” Steve cut himself off, but Eddie wasn’t going to let that pass.

“What?”

“Nothing. Not important.”

“Yeah it is. Tell me.”

Steve seemed nervous, and Herald must have sensed it because he let out a low growl.

“It’s just that you mean a lot to me. Kind of everything, actually.”

Eddie couldn’t breathe.

What did that even mean?

Steve’s hand was suddenly in his hair, playing with the ends the way Eddie did when he was nervous.

“You’re just. I mean, how could you not mean the world to me? You dropped everything to come here with me because you knew I wouldn’t do it alone, Eds. You bring me candy at work even though I literally have access to all the candy I want at the counter. You let me find reasons not to watch the scary movies on movie nights when Dustin picks because you know I can’t handle them. You swim in the pool with me alone so no one knows how much I still hate it. I…you’re just…”

Eddie didn’t let him stutter any more, knowing what he was saying without actually saying it.

He knew what Steve was afraid of, and he wasn’t going to let him be scared anymore.

“Steve. I love you. That’s why I do all that. I love you. I’m in love with you. You deserve more than what I can give, but I can keep giving you all of the love I have, and hopefully that will be enough.”

Steve’s lips were on his before he finished speaking, teeth clacking together at the force of it.

Herald huffed, but they didn’t stop. Eddie didn’t know how he was supposed to now that he had Steve’s lips on his.

He never wanted them gone.

His hands reached up to Steve’s neck, cradling his jaw between them as if he was holding something precious. He was.

“I love you so much,” Steve said against his lips, melting against Eddie.

“I love you, Stevie,” Eddie said back. He planted another soft kiss to his lips before resting their foreheads together. “Let’s go back to bed, okay? We can come see Herald after breakfast.”

Steve nodded and turned to Herald.

“I’ll be back. Don’t hide from me, okay?”

He reached in to give Herald’s head a scratch, and Eddie shook his head in disbelief.

It took less than 48 hours for Steve to have the one wolf in this sanctuary who didn’t like people completely wrapped around his finger.

But Eddie could relate.

Steve’s charm was damn near impossible to resist and now he didn’t have to try.

[fadingdaggerr]

Hey can I request a melissa schemmenti x femreader based on season two episode 1.where maybe the reader is rlly stressed out and maybe she can’t park bc Ava is using her parking spot to celebrate the eagles game and maybe mr Johnson comes into to tell the reader her is getting toed away so her,Melissa and the other teachers run outside and maybe the reader is getting angry and shouting at the man,melissa is begging her to calm down.and then she does what Janine did in the actual episode and she gets in the car and try’s to drive off and everyone is telling her to stop and Melissa try’s to get her out the car and out of rage she kicks the car and hurts her foot and then maybe the reader storms back into the school and melissa goes to find her when the school day is over and the reader has a panic attack and Melissa comforts her. Tysm ❤️

delphinium blooms

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! i made little changes, mostly just so i wasn’t just rewriting janine’s scene but with r and mel but i hope you still like it :)

warnings: hurt/comfort, r has a morning of unfortunate events, r is kinda mean (to a man so it’s fine), stress/anxiety crying

note: i rewrote so much of this because i kept thinking of things and creating nonsense lmao but i had a lot of fun writing

development week has always been the calm before the storm. you had everything planned already: each month’s separate decor to keep a lively room, the giant drawing paper for the wall so students could doodle during free time (and you could proudly display their art), and even the seating chart was done. everything was perfect and in order, everything just needed to be set up.

but sometimes the storm comes before the calm, or the calm packs its things and jumps out of the moving car.

the coffee maker in your apartment died on you, only about half a cup of watery coffee in the bottom of the pot. you didn’t have the money, nor the time, to stop that the cafe one block over. rent’s more important, we can get coffee at work, you tell yourself. you soon found that it was nearly unbearable to eat breakfast without your coffee and splash of oat milk creamer. coffee and maybe breakfast at work, i guess.

at nine in the morning, there is a full-on barbecue in the parking lot of abbott elementary. janine’s parking spot was a grill station. your spot, which was two down from janine’s, was currently being used as a blow-up pool splash zone. you roll down your window when you see ava close by.

“ava! what the hell is this?” you yelled out your window.

“it’s a development day party!” the principal responded with a big, happy grin.

you sighed, “your party’s in my parking spot.”

“pay valet or park somewhere else, i have a party to host,” she waves you off as she turns to talk to whoever approached her. after a, give-or-take, nine hundred point turn, you parked your car on the street. you prayed to the meter-maid goddesses that you’d have time to move it before someone came and ticketed you.

you pulled box after box out of the backseat, stacking them in your arms, creating the leaning tower of heavy-as-shit. as you slowly walk towards the fourth grade classrooms, you top few boxes get lifted away, easing the load significantly. you look to see who it was, expecting gregory, but instead you’re met with jade green eyes and fiery hair.

“trynna show off carrying all these?” she says with a laugh.

you laugh with her, “oh, of course. how else am i going to impress the ladies?” melissa snorts a laugh at this, opening the door to your classroom and letting you in ahead of her.

“and who are these ladies?” she jests.

you look at her, taking in the smirk on her face before answering, “we both know it’s just the one.”

she helps you spread out the boxes and get everything open before asking, “ready to head to the opening meeting?”

“you mean the ava show?”

she laughs, “yeah, come on.”

—

you half-listen to ava’s little speech and flirts to gregory, your eyes trained on melissa’s rings instead of ava’s vacation photos. you only perked your head up when janine mentioned donuts at her little mixer.

“and why would i wanna go to that?” melissa answered janine, barbara nodding in agreement beside her.

“you said donuts?” you ask janine, she nods eagerly, “then count me in teagues, but if there’s no strawberry frosted i’m leaving.”

there was no strawberry frosted. you dropped into a seat next to melissa, who was happily eating a chocolate frosted donut. she sees your pout and offers you a bite, which you accept with a smile. she wiped a blue sprinkle that managed to land on your cheek, the action is enough to make you smile a bit, warmth spreading through your cheeks.

just when you think the worst part of the morning is over, the tried and true mr. johnson walks into the library.

“anyone drive a beat up sedan?” all the hands in the room rise up. “who drives a silver one?” less hands, but still a good amount. “one with a sticker that says ‘if you see this, thank a teacher’ on the bumper?”

janine pipes up, “oh that’s mine!”

“you’re getting boot on your car, young lady,” he answers, and janine immediately is running out with jacob, gregory, and barbara behind her.

“oh and anyone got a green sedan? little cat bobble head on the dash?” mr. johnson speaks up.

melissa turns to look at you before you say, “don’t tell me it’s being booted.”

“course not,” you sigh in minor relief, “you’re about to get towed.”

you’re immediately running out to your car, melissa hot on your trail. you get outside to see a boot placed on janine’s car and the tow guy is rigging your car to the truck.

“aye, back off the car! what are you doing?” you yell, getting close to the tow operator, eric.

“no parking zone, can you read? it’s for the buses. we’re pulling ya,” he says as he continues his work. you groan in anger, walking closer to the car where he had already hooked it up.

“what fucking buses? school hasn’t started yet,” you counter.

“it’s still a bus zone, and you’re still getting towed,” eric says.

before you start throwing hands with the guy, melissa steps in, “how much to not tow the car?”

he laughs, “you can get it back at the lot, should be two hundred. might be three for wasting my time. you’re not getting it back now, it’s parked illegally.”

you see red when he mentions raising the cost, you couldn’t even afford the original one, “wasting your time? your time?! i’m supposed to be in that building making lesson plans for children who will be here next week, and i’m wasting your time?”

“yeah, you are. now move your ass or i’ll move you,” the man answers angrily.

you bravely taunt him, “try then.”

“sweetheart…” melissa tries to reach for your arm, but you step just out of reach.

barbara and gregory say your name at the same time, both of their tones advising caution. melissa is stuck between wanting to help and letting you just handle it. she wearily watches as you squat down and start undoing clasps and hooks, taking the chains off the car. you’re movements are fast, getting two wheels free from the rigs.

“hey! you can’t be touching that!” eric yells once he hears the disconnect. he stomps over to you and grabs your arm, harshly yanking you away from the car with a tight grip. “stupid little shit,” he mutters.

“touch me again and i’ll break your fingers,” you threaten, and by the look on your face, melissa knows you’re serious. now is when she has to step in, she knows that much.

“twenty bucks says our scrappy-doo over here wins!” ava yells over, holding her phone up, ready to record if you followed through.

“not helping ava!” barbara and melissa shout at the same time.

melissa moves to gently wrap her arms around you from behind, pulling you away from your car and away from the tow guy. when you try to pull away, she tightens her hold, muttering to you to calm down and slow your breathing. you’re irritated, and melissa can feel you shaking against her. she knows you’re using your anger to coverup how much you want to cry.

once the car is all set, the man speaks to melissa only, “here’s the address of where to pick it up. and thanks for keeping your dog,” he pointedly looks at you, “on its leash.”

once he drives off with your car, melissa releases you slowly. your chest rises and drops with every unsteady breath, and you groan loudly. immediately, and without much thought, you repeatedly kick the stone wall around the entrance, even when pain strikes after the first one.

“sweetheart. baby, stop…” melissa grabs you again, “you’re going to hurt yourself.” barbara ushers away everyone else, giving the the redhead space to calm you.

it took a few moments for your breathing to slow, but when it stuttered, melissa turned you in her arms and hugged you tightly. your face instinctively tucked itself away in the junction of her neck and shoulder, your arms firm around her waist. you could feel her arm around your shoulders, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back and she swayed from side to side, in hopes the motion would help you focus your breathing.

“baby?” melissa asks with a hushed tone.

you pull away from her to sniffle but tuck back into her skin before answering, “i can’t afford a cup of coffee. i can’t afford a new coffee maker. i haven’t eaten since we had dinner last night. and this half-wit just stole my car and put it up for ransom, because there was a pool in my parking spot.”

the accumulation of everything from today being said aloud made fresh tears fall from your eyes. melissa held you tighter, whispering soothing words to you even if they fell on deaf ears. after you’ve calmed down again, she coaxes you back so you can see your face. her hands hold your face delicately, thumbs stroking away left behind tears.

“i will hand deliver you coffee every morning until you find a new coffee maker,” she says making you huff through your nose, “and i’ll buy you lunch, maybe make you dinner too, if you want,” she sees you perk up at the offer, “and i’ll stab a hole in the pool.” you laugh for real this time, making melissa smile. these days, she found that making you laugh was her favorite thing to do.

“what abo-” you start, but melissa cuts you off.

“oh, you’re not paying a dime,” you go to tell her not to pay it, but she’s ahead of you. “and neither am i, trust me. i could pull a uncle carlo and get them to give me three hundred bucks, for my time.”

you shake your head, “you bringing the bat or just that cute face?”

melissa cheeks grew rosy at your words, “you were crying five minutes ago and now you’re flirting?” you nod, biting your lip, but still waiting for an answer. she gives in, “the bat will be stay in the car unless they really deserve it. scout’s honor.”

you laugh and press a kiss to her cheek, mumbling against her skin, “thank you.”

she turns her face, pressing her forehead against yours with her eyes closed. she leans in and presses a sound, loving kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then the other, a final one placed on your forehead. she holds your face once more, “you needed me, and i was there. you don’t have to thank me, i love you. it’s what i’m supposed to do.”

you kiss her again, very quickly, then say, “i love you, too.”

—

after she bought you lunch, she didn’t drive you straight back to abbott. no, melissa was parked in front of market street towing company. she wordlessly got out of the car, but motioned for you to stay when you went to undo your seatbelt. you just watched her walk away nervously until she disappeared inside.

two songs and one radio ad later, you see your car pulling out of the fenced lot, melissa behind the wheel. you jumped out of the car as she got out of yours, grabbing her tightly.

“oh my god, thank you, thank you, thank you,” you say excitedly, only hearing her laugh a bit.

“no one was harmed, except maybe a couple egos,” she says before pulling back to drop your keys in your hands. “we still on for dinner?”

you grab her chin between your forefinger and thumb, bringing her lips to yours in a slow kiss. when you pull away, you revel in her stunned look, and it’s just too tempting to kiss her again, but she beats you to do. she breaks the kiss for air, and you speak quietly in the small space between you, “dessert, too.”

i hope u like this anon and i hope i did ur vision justice <3 feedback appreciated as always

[omgjumin]

if you're taking requests — how about nanami comforting reader while they have panic attack? (pretty please!) headcanon form or in drabble, i don't mind.

no pressure either way!!

comforting you - nanami kento!

note: of course i can! this is literally right up my alley bc lately that's just how i've been feeling so this would be so comforting to write so! i hope you like this <3

tags: panic/anxiety attack mention and symptoms, overthinking, crying/sobbing, mentions of blood/cuts (only once, not graphic), pet names (my love), nanami just being a sweetheart

- honestly i think it depends on what was the cause of the panic attack

- nanami has different ways of comforting you depending on the situation

it's often nanami comes home late, yet ever since nanami switched careers, going back to being a sorcerer, he would always let you know if he would be home late or be back in the morning. and just that by itself would be anxiety-reducing. however, tonight especially you felt as if something was off. even if nothing was. you paced around the kitchen, not looking for anything to eat, you weren't hungry anyway but you were looking for something to occupy your mind as you waited for nanami's text. your hands grabbed your phone before unlocking it and shutting it off once again.

you felt your chest become heavier and tighter as if bricks were placed on it. your screen lit up once more notifying you that another minute has passed. it read 10:17pm and nanami sent you a text message at 5:02pm that he would be home soon yet he's still not here. he wasn't safe in your arms. he wasn't safe inside your house, eating the dinner you prepared, taking a warm shower, he wasn't here. you started to get more upset and worried by the second, there was a ticking sound in your ears as you felt time go by so slowly. your feet came to a halt as you fell to the floor.

you felt dizzy, your head was spinning round and round yet no matter what you did, it wouldn't stop. your hands wouldn't stop trembling as you tried to reach for your phone that was on the counter. "kento please.." you choked out in an almost sob, tears falling down for face as you tried to muster up the strength to get up. you didn't notice how much time had passed since you got on the floor, but when you felt two arms developing you in a tight hug, your body felt grounded in the moment. "kento?" you blurted out, not really sure if it was truly him.

"im here now, its okay." nanami said, his voice sounded exhausted and there would be darkening eye bags beneath his eyes to prove such a statement but he didn't care. your body curled up into a ball as nanami tightened his arms around you. he settled you onto his lap, hands landing on your waist, temporarily leaving only to wipe the tears off your face. there were multiple blood stains on his clothes and if you looked closely, you could be able to see small cuts along his face as well. nanami was fairly wounded but that was none of his worries now. you were his main priority and he wanted to let you know that he's here and alive. he's here in your arms.

"my love, please look at me." he raised his hands slowly before placing them on each side of your face. he tilted your head up softly, his eyes immediately turning soft the moment he caught your gaze. "you're safe and i'm safe, okay? i'm at home with you." he repeats affirmations to help ease your mind, he keeps his movements slow and soft, not wanting to overwhelm you more. "let's go wash up, okay?" he says after a while, moments of silence pasts with you in his lap on the floor before shaking your head. nanami smiles softly before taking your hand in his and leading you into the bathroom. he still needs to take care of his wounds before they get infected but his eyes were on you, not himself. and it would stay that way until the night ended. nanami ended up calling off of work the next day to be able to stay in with you. you were his world and he was yours, nanami isn't going to let either of you fall.

[ellabism]

ive come up with more plot for my lovers to enemies and then enemies to lovers ellabs fic idea. if you dont know what that is i talk about it here

i think that this would all take place on both their day ones when they see each other for the first time. i can envision abby being out on her run with mel and manny when the gunfire can be heard and they see the WLF chasing this girl and ordering her to be killed. manny would talk about how its the trespasser that everyone has been has been talking about, and how they're a kill on sight target. but when abby aims her weapon for a clear shot, thats when she realizes its her. her long lost girlfriend from when they were young teenagers that she was almost certain was already dead. ellie notices that its her too. they spend the moment in silence together, both bewildered. a gunshot rings, which would remind ellie where she is and what is happening, and thats when she takes that opening for her to escape.

the reason why i think it should happen on their day ones is because i think then abby's priority will shift from traveling across seattle to find owen to instead find ellie because what the fuck was that. why is my girlfriend from years ago that i just assumed died in a FEDRA attack is actually alive and why is she in seattle and why do the WLF want her dead? and when she gets back to the stadium from her patrol she sneaks out to go find her.

towards the end of seattle day 2 is when they finally run into each other and it would take place of the boat scene and instead ellie and abby will fuck in some random building bc i said so. ellie is just as bewildered that her ex is actually alive and not dead but she also can't help but be enthralled at her muscle growth and her build and things go one way and abbys fucking the shit out of ellie.(yes ellies a bottom in ellabs i dont make the rules) this would be so juicy to me because instead of the regular story of owen cheating on mel its ellie cheating on dina. and after waking up next to abby the next morning she realizes what the fuck she just did and she gets terrified and runs off, leaving abby to wake up alone, and she has to find her. again. is it just abby's thinking or did ellie get more stubborn the older she got?

ellies a fucking mess on her way back to the theater because she doesn't know what she did and why she did it because she has a pregnant girlfirend back at the theater waiting for her return. shes so distraught she can barley focus on getting back safely. but thats before tommy ends up running into her. tommy tells her all the intel he's collected on the WLF and shares leah's photocards he found and he points at a girl with a long blonde braid next to some man, explaining that that's the person who killed joel. and ellies eye's widened. abby. she did it. she killed joel. as if ellie's emotions weren't scattered around her brain now she's in a full out panic attack and feels sick and throws up. her girlfriend from years ago, one that she shared many laughs and dumb memories with, was the one to brutally murder joel.

abby's out looking for ellie once again, she's not letting ellie keep running away from her. especially not after what happened last night. on her journey she runs into manny. manny is asking her where the fuck she's been. the WLF have been looking for her, and isaac just assumed she went awol and became an enemy of theirs. but abby doesn't care. she wants to know why the girl they ran into on their run is shoot on sight. and that's when manny explains that these trespassers, who are not scars, have been hitting them hard. he tells her that these trespassers killed some of their closest friends. danny, leah, jordan, nora, owen and mel. (tommy ended up doing most, since ellie had other things going on, but she still contributed nonetheless). and now its abby's turn to feel sick. all this time she was out chasing for ellie to have some type of hopes of having her join them and be together again, finding out that she's here murdering her friends, but why?

abby, now seething, is still going to search for ellie. but not with the same idea she originally had in mind.

yall i need this fic to be picked up PLEASE. i cannot write series or develop characters to save my life. but i need to see this fic actually come to live its all i ask for PLEASE.

[derpyfangirl]

Some thoughts and headcanons born from @k-chips amazing art of AI!Clavell and a more cohesive gathering of my little idea dump there. This gonna be a long one, so strap in.

To start, the meat of my idea from that post (bold is me just adding context now)

It was their (Sada/Turo) invention- the time machine- that got the original Clavell killed. Like they brought our Raidon forward, but during their time back on the surface they realize how much of Arven's life they're missing out on, and Clavell is like "You spend time with the kid, I'll keep researching, when Arven is around 16-17 we can swap spots" but shit went sideways when, while down there with Raidon, the second, feral Raidon is summoned and the game follows the tragedy we all discover.

So, in this timeline, Sada/Turo aren't as obsessed with their research. When they bring Koraidon/Miraidon (just for the sake of convenience, we will be using Pokemon Scarlet as a base as that's the version I play going forward, but remember this also applies to Violet) to the surface, Arven is around maybe 8 or 9 and Koraidon is around the same age based on journal entries mentioning how she "expected one gift of life, and now she has two" after mentioning bringing Kor foward in time, is when Sada realizes she's missing out on so much of her son's life, and that creating Paradise is worthless if it means destroying what remains of her little family.

Enter Clavell: he's still somewhat involved with her research in Area Zero and suggests she stay and raise Arven and he'll work on her research with the AI she began developing, and when Arven is old enough they can swap spots and she can return to Area Zero. She agrees, and after the event causing Kor to be sent back to the Crater, Sada and Clavell keep in constant contact with her and Arven occasionally making trips down to visit.

4 years before the game, the 2nd Koraidon (I'll refer to it either as feral Kor or Rex (in reference to its dex entry calling him the Winged King)) is brought to our time. Rex attacks Kor, and Clavell follows the battle to Research Station 4, the AI giving him updates on the battle. He arrives just in time to see Kor backed into a corner with Rex ready to give the killing blow. Clavell shields Kor, having practically raised it, and is killed by the feral Koraidon.

The AI panics, Kor is injured and flees, and suddenly Clavell stops calling and refuses any suggestions to come visit from Sada. He only communicates via email for a year, and when he finally video calls its to say that if he needs anything from her or if there are any developments in the project, he will reach out to her and to stop disturbing him.

Sada of course is upset by this. Angry that he basically told her to fuck off on what is technically both her and Clavell's research (bc she's probably been working on her research while still raising and spending time with her son), and worried as her friend and mentor has never been like this.

Not sure how Clavell would become Academy Director in this timeline unless Team Star's actions at the school take place a bit before Clavell dies, and just before he's killed Clavell had accepted becoming director, but requested time to finish his work and that Sada be his temp replacement (or something, still working the kinks out on this one)

Anyways, a year before the game Arven- who misses Clavell and is both mad at him for upsetting his mom and worried for his safety- enters the Crater and during this, Mabosstiff is attacked by something (in Scarlet, I personally think it was either a Slitherwing or a Roaring Moon, but the later means that they were lucky to even escape alive, as Roaring Moon doesn't seem to be one to leave its prey alive.).

Game occurs, Sada being acting Director while juggling investigating Team Star, her research, raising her son and trying to help Mabosstiff, and looking into what could have happened to Clavell, who suddenly hasn't been responding to anything despite how he should have returned to take over as Director. She's surprised to see Kor, but AIClavell calls and says that Kor must have missed Sada and Arven and gives ownership of Kor to the player. Sada figures it would be good for the lizard to get experience via your Treasure Hunt and requests you take care of it as it's like her second child.

Game proceeds as normal till Area Zero. Sada joins the gang in the Great Crater partially because she knows how dangerous it can be and she can't just allow 4 teens to stroll in there unsupervised (why Clavell would even request a child enter the Crater is something that bothers her), and partially to see what's going on down there. She's basically bouncing up and down seeing her paradise having been created, but recognizes that should the Paradox mons escape, it would destroy Paldea's ecosystems. When you go to talk with AIClavell at the lab, she stays outside at first with Arven to hold off the Paradox mons trying to get in.

When she finally sees AI Clavell and discovers the OG Clavell is dead, she is in a state of shock. It was her invention, her dream that resulted in her best friend and mentor's death, and that this entire time she hadn't even been communicating with him, but the AI she created to help Clavell.

AI Clavell needs someone to stop the machine as he knows his human self would want the same, but the Paradise Protection Protocol kicks in, much to Sada- who had it as a failsafe should the time machine detect that a Pokémon was attacking it, not if someone was simply powering it down- and AI Clavell- who didn't even know it existed- horror.

I might add more to this, but yeah. TLDR, Clavell stays in Area Zero so Sada can raise Arven, Clavell is killed protecting Kor, Sada is Director instead, AI Clavell battles you.

[running-with-the-feels]

Raiden:(summoning himself into Kuai Liangs home) You and I have unfinished business involving your sad excuse of a brother and "daughter". They broke in and-

Kuai Liang: Took back Kung Laos stuff. I'm aware. He had nothing. Now question is, why are you here?

Raiden: to settle this; you dare cross a God, and I shall make you regret that very decision-

Frost: (walked in to see what was happening)

Raiden: Starting with her!(he electrocuted her)

Sorry this is dumb you don't have to interact I'm just into it

This is amazing and I love it

Kuai Liang, Bi-Han, Hanzo and Kung Lao battle Raiden and manage to force him to flee and Kuai Liang immediately turns to where Frost is laying limp on the floor

Kuai Liang, trying not to panic: Frost? Frost, can you hear me?

Hanzo, turning to Kung Lao: Go get the healers, now

Kung Lao: I don't know where they-

Bi-Han: I'll go with you

Kuai Liang, getting louder as tears pool in his eyes: Frost, I need you to open your eyes for me, okay? Frost?!

Hanzo, kneeling beside him and desperately trying to keep his cool: She's going to be fine, Kuai Liang, I promise, the healers are already on their way

Kuai Liang, crying as he lifts her into his lap: Bǎo bèi?! Bǎo bèi, please, open your eyes!!

Hanzo, cradling Kuai Liang's face and trying to get him to focus: Look at me, look at me! She's going to be fine

Kuai Liang, more terrified than he's ever been in his life: She's not breathing, Hanzo, why isn't she breathing?

Hanzo, moving Kuai Liang's hand so he can feel the movement of Frost's chest: She is, it's just very faint but her heartbeat is still strong, okay? She's going to be fine

Kuai Liang, holding her tighter: My daughter, he tried to kill my daughter

Hanzo, holding back his own tears: And he failed, she's still alive

Healers run in, pulling Frost form Kuai Liang's grasp

Kuai Liang, panicking bc he thinks its another attack: BACK OFF! I WON'T LET YOU-!

Hanzo comes up behind him, pinning his arms to his sides as he holds Kuai Liang tight

Hanzo: It's okay, those are the healers, they're here to help

Kuai Liang: Let me go!

Hanzo: I can't, you have to let them do their work, you have to

Kuai Liang, tears still streaming down his face: Frost!

Hanzo: I know, love, I know how hard this is, but you have to let them help her

Kuai Liang collapses, the two kneeling on the floor once more as Kuai Liang keeps his eyes fixed on his daughter, Hanzo holding him tight and muttering reassurances

Bi-Han stares from the doorway, looking like he's seen a ghost as fury swamps him

Bi-Han: Raiden will pay for this, even if I have to bring his bloody body to Kuai Liang myself

Kung Lao: Might be easier to just take his head

Bi-Han: No. After this? The only people who get to kill that man are Kuai Liang and Frost, whatever it takes I will facilitate that

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Day 1 - Drugged

Hehehe let's do some Whumptober!! Going with @ailesswhumptober's prompt list bc like...listen, the prompts are really tasty. Also Miguel belongs to my beloved @whumpr!! Thank you for letting me borrow him!!

TWs: Drugging (but it was requested), panic attacks

Mariano was at the war mage's place, curled up on the couch with Miguel, when he'd offered to get him some water to go with their popcorn. He'd finished his glass immediately, since the extra salt that Miguel liked to add made him thirsty. Mariano hadn't thought anything of it until they'd gone back to watching their movie.

Dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion twenty minutes later. It felt like the couch had swayed underneath him. He hummed, frowning, reaching to press his hand to his own forehead. "Miguel..." He started, realizing that his tongue felt too heavy.

"Hm?" Miguel had an arm around him. He shifted to look Mariano in the eye. "Something the matter?"

"I..." Mariano fought to find the words he wanted. "I feel...weird." He settled on. "I don't think I feel well."

Miguel reached up to push Mariano's hand away from his forehead, pressing the backs of his fingers to Mariano's skin. It made Mariano whimper, leaning into the steadying touch. "You don't have a fever."

The couch swayed again and Mariano leaned closer to Miguel, dropping his face against his shoulder with a whine. His hand shifted to clutch Miguel's shirt. His heart started to race. "What's...?"

"Ah." Miguel said, laughing gently. "Ah, I see. It's just kicking in."

Ice flooded Mariano's chest as his shoulders went tense. He looked up at Miguel, sounding stricken. "Yyyyou...you gave me something."

"Shhh." Miguel said, reaching to cup Mariano's face. "Shhh, breathe." His thumbs started sliding back and forth along Mariano's skin, even as tears started to gather in Mariano's eyes. "Remember you asked me to do this? A few weeks ago?"

"I want to be less panicky when I'm drugged." Mariano had admitted. "I feel like I lose my mind when I realize it's happened, it makes it hard to fight, or run."

"Do you want me to help you work through the panic?" Miguel had asked. "We can use the normal safe word, in case it starts to feel like too much."

"Yes, yes please. Don't warn me, either. I wouldn't get that luxury normally."

Mariano did remember, then, through the haze starting to cloud his mind. Adrenaline started to race through him, drawing his grip on Miguel into something tighter. He nodded, though, groaning at how it made the living room spin.

"Answer me, Mariano, do you remember asking for this?" Miguel spoke low against his ear. A shudder raced down Mariano's spine.

"I do, I...I remember." Mariano slurred. "Remember we were...there's gonna be the...the safe word. In case."

Miguel's hand slid through his hair and Mariano huddled into him. "Perfect." Miguel said, sounding fond. "Exactly. And I'm gonna keep you like this for a while tonight."

Mariano pressed his body closer to Miguel's, as though he were trying to curl up and hide against the shorter man. "How...howww long? I don't...I don't like this."

"You don't get to know." Miguel answered, and Mariano could've sworn he heard him smiling. "Come on, breathe. Relax. We're just watching a movie." The hand in his hair kept up its repetitive strokes, fingertips sliding along Mariano's scalp just how he always liked.

It didn't work. Mariano just got tense all over again. "Miguel, I don't..." He felt his breath hitch. "Please tell mmmme...tell me how long."

Miguel shook his head. "I can't do that." His other hand took Mariano's, winding their fingers together. "You're safe. Take a deep breath."

"Miguel." Mariano's voice broke. Miguel's hand slid from his hair and down to his shoulder, hugging him close as he started to tremble. "I can't--" His heart was racing, his grip tightened on Miguel's hand. The room had started to spin as the edges of his vision started to darken.

He wasn't sure if it was the drugs or the panic attack he might've been having.

"Mariano, you need to calm down." Miguel spoke firmly. "Nothing is going to happen to you. I won't let anything happen to you."

Mariano couldn't breathe. He tried to listen, tried to calm down. He couldn't hear what Miguel said next, though. He only dimly heard himself starting to cry.

Miguel's hands cupped his face, making Mariano meet his eyes. Mariano saw his pact rings reflected in them. "Mariano." Miguel's brows were furrowed in concern. "Mariano, hey. Look at me. Is there someone you want to talk to?"

Mariano swallowed hard. "Llllluis." He breathed. "Luis." He repeated as tears started to roll down his face.

"Okay, I hear you. I hear you, we're done." Miguel said, helping Mariano lie down. "It'll wear off in an hour or two. You're just going to feel sleepy. That's it. It's a sedative. They give it to pets for vet visits, it just makes your body relax." Miguel's voice washed over him as the tears kept falling.

Mariano nodded, looping his arms around Miguel's waist. "Oka-ay." He whimpered, muffled by Miguel's shirt. "Okay. I...okay. Thhhhank you." Miguel's fingers started sliding through Mariano's hair again, and this time it started to help. Tension began to melt out of Mariano's shoulders as the drugs started to pull him further under. "Thank yyyyou."

"Shhh." Miguel's voice was softer now, and Mariano wasn't sure if it was because Miguel was doing it on purpose or if he was just starting to doze. "Take a nap if you need to. I won't go anywhere."

Mariano nodded, feeling heavier than ever. His eyes slid closed. Panic still buzzed at the back of his head, but with Miguel's cologne in his nose and his hand in his hair, he could breathe.

[moreespressoformydepresso]

hi brownie! i just broke my heart over your treaper fics and those boys are in desperate need for a happy ending so i have some time travel fix it ideas-

reaper wakes up on the train with a clear mind and memories of being sang to sleep (to death) by a boy who he had only met in a cage of the capitol's making. it was a hazy blur, something that might have been a dream or nightmare, until he sees the boy again.

treech, reaper knows, and when their eyes meet upon seeing each other in that cramped truck transporting them to the zoo enclosure, he thinks that treech knows him, too.

treech had waken alongside lamina, who he'd missed, who he'd mourned, and thinks he's hallucinating. it wasn't reaper, but he grabbed it with desperate hands, no longer stained with blood as they had been moments before. it takes him a bit longer to work out that he's back to relive the horrors again, but the relief he'd felt seeing reaper, realizing he wouldn't be alone in this repetition, in what could be a second chance, is overwhelming.

so, after a bit of time to comfort each other, they get to talking aobut what to do. treech isn't leaving lamina behind, and reaper doesn't want to abandon dill either, so they're trying to work out something to get the four of them out- except it's not a very big enclosure so someone overhearing their escape plan quickly spirals into all of the tributes plotting to get the heck out. treech and reaper know what's to come, it's just a matter of working out a plan to escape & what point in time would give them the best chance of success.

maybe it's intervening early to keep brandy alive (and verbally tearing arachne a new one while they're at it). maybe it's getting closer to their mentors to get some actual support for their situation. maybe it's during the arena bombing and using that chance to book it out of there. maybe it's just collectively deciding that they're not going to kill each other in the arena bc if the capitol wants to prove they're monsters, then they're going to raise the mirror back at them. if it's that last one, then maybe they all just get a chance to be kids having a found family arc :)

(anyways, love all your fics and fix its! thanks for writing them <3)

Hiii!!

>:D

Oh My God I saw your comments and they made me so happy!! For one because someone actually read it and commented and for two because mission accomplished. I'm glad I broke your heart with the rarepair I created and am the only shipper of :p.

Honestly yeah this would be an amazing explanation for how any given fix-it starts. Two dumbasses in love don't wanna lose each other or their friends again and it spirals. Aside from the obvious coming to terms with all this, the happiness at seeing their lost ones alive again and the brief panic at having to relive this all over again, I bring you a new fix-it AU:

Star Crossed Lovers save the world, but several decades earlier and a whole lot more gay

Treech and Reaper have their reunion and decide it's obvious what they're here to do: Save all the tributes (and unbeknownst to them the whole of Panem). They bring their partners into this and a few other tributes overhear and join. While they briefly discuss escaping, it quickly becomes clear there are simply too many things that could go wrong and too many factors out of their control for it to be viable. Such a large group of kids simply doesn't have the luck for any plan to succeed, and while they'd usually try it anyway... They have a better idea. After all, they have a massive trump card in the knowledge of what this all is about. These games are supposed to be entertaining, and they're a way for the Capitol to convince itself that its better than the districts. Well what better way to shake that up than to play out a love story and make people sympathise with them?

So the two lay the ground works for their "growing romance" so it doesn't feel out of the blue while Lucy Gray steals hearts in the zoo. When Brandy is about to attack Arachne, Treech calls out to her and gives her half of the loaf of bread he just got from juggling, ignoring the Capitol visitors' eyes on him as he gives Arachne a look somewhere between disappointed and disturbed. Then he looks at the rest of his food and sighs slightly before giving it to the tributes that need it the most. That evening they bring the other tributes into it and explain the big events that will definitely happen despite their interference with the timeline. The interviews, the bombing, and the Plinth Prize motivation for the mentors. Oh also Sejanus being trustworthy. They decide to try and show their mentors that the districts are people too in hopes of planting a seed of doubt large enough to get them out of the games in the long run because they're smart enough to realize they don't have actual power here. Just the ability to try and influence those who do. Now, Treech was very uncharitable to Vipsania in the last timeline for very valid reason, but he's had a while to come to terms with it and those minutes (maybe even hours, he's not sure. It's a blur) after Reaper's death gave him some perspective in hindsight. She wasn't great, but a part of her did care. Besides, reliving that week before the games reminded him that it isn't her fault. She was indoctrinated and raised to believe what she did, so while he can hate her for how she treated him he can't exactly fault her. Besides, she did send that drone that saved him from rabbid Reaper's attack in the last few minutes of the actual games. This time, he'll just be a little nicer from the start and see if anything changes or not. Reaper also gives Clemensia a chance, though he still doesn't say much to her and dislikes her. All the other tributes do their best to not be too harsh, but they haven't been through this already so it's a lot more difficult for them.

This set of dominoes wildly impacts the rest of the timeline. For one, Treech giving his food to Brandy made him even more popular than he was originally in the rankings, and it happened far earlier than before too. This means there's a lot more attention on him than last time, which is great because that means his little romance arc with Reaper will be far more known-about. Vipsania is satisfied with this until the first interview between tributes and mentors. She's pleased he knows how to use an ax but when she tells him not to help the "competition" anymore since he's already got the attention he gets upset with her because they deserve kindness and he won't add to their misery. This throws Vipsania for a loop because it destroys everything she's ever thought about the districts. He refuses to answer the questionaire at first but then they properly get talking and oh no he's wormed his way into her heart while being clearly upset with her. Now what? How can she fix this? Clemensia has a similar experience, receiving very little from Reaper at first but inevitably reaching the conclusion that he's a kid who doesn't wanna hurt people and he's right to distrust her. They talk to the other mentors and this means all mentors start paying attention to their tributes, realizing they're just kids and starting to care for them. Naturally this ends up causing a conflict because they all wanna save their tribute but that means the others have to die and they can see that that would emotionally destroy their friends.

They talk to non-mentor students about it too and from there it just starts to spread. Vipsania and Clemensia are particularly worried about the Treaper arc happening, but the two lovebirds continue because they know through the grapevine (people talking outside the enclosure) that they're front page news. They succesfully help avoid casualties during the bombing, saving their mentors from death in the process and causing the two mentors to care even more deeply about them. So much so that they and the other mentors who were saved by their tributes (like Apollo and Diana) talk about it to the news. More front page news!! Gaul is ripping her hair out.

During the interviews, the two steal hearts with their cute love story and then break hearts when Treech starts crying at the mention of the games. just before the end of the interview, Lucky asks Treech how he plans on killing Reaper, since he'll have to if he wants to win, and Treech has been perfectly composed, cheerful and friendly and charming throughout the entire interview but... He still remembers waving away the warning signs just to spend more time with the boy he wasn't allowed to love. He remembers falling down the beams and running through the tunnels, hiding in the booth and tumbling down from the stands. Worse, he remembers Reaper's confused cries, the blade, the blood soaking through his pants and that all-consuming cold spreading through his body. And he knows he has to answer, he knows he has to keep up his charming stage persona and make people love him but for just a moment he can feel the rapidly cooling blood on his hands again, drenching them. No matter how hard he tries, Treech can't stop the tears from falling as he chokes on his words, trying in vain to form sentences before giving up and sobbing brokenly into his hands. Reaper tries to charge onto the stage to comfort him but the peacekeepers stop him. Once Treech is led off-stage and close enough Reaper wraps his boyfriend into a hug and comforts him as best he can. When it's his turn and Lucky asks the same question he asked Treech, Reaper doesn't cry. No, he remains completely calm as he bluntly states he won't.

"Oh? But a confrontation is very possible. What do you plan to do if it's just the two of you left standing?"

"Easy." Reaper said. "I'll kill myself."

Despite not being near a microphone, Treech screams out loud enough for everyone to be able to hear his heartwrenching "No!" from where he's seated with Lamina. Lucky decides to push Reaper and tells him he's being irrational, but the boy is unimpressed and coldly states he'd rather let the Capitol torture him to death than be the reason Treech's family gets him back in a coffin. Lucky tells the audience they'll have to wait and see how true that statement is and they move on to the next interview. When the games come, the tributes are all scared but determined. They've already decided they'll refuse to attack one another, but it's still a very scary situation for all of them. For the first time, they'll be plunged into entirely unknown territory. Until that point they had a general idea of what would happen, but they're gonna interfere with the games so much by not fighting that there's no way to know what will happen. Treech and Reaper make sure to warn everyone that if a big black box comes down from the sky they have to get off the ground or into the tunnels because there will be snakes in it and they won't be friendly. Reaper and Treech continue their little romance to the point of actually staying together by the time day five rolls around. The day they originally spent together, all alone in an empty arena until that fateful last fight. Reaper has to hold his boyfriend through his memories and fears of what's to come.

Meanwhile, all the other tributes also interact with each other hesitantly, trading food and water and stories or even just a small acknowledgement before moving on. At the end of day 5, just as the sun starts to set, the tank drops. Thanks to Treech and Reaper's warning the snakes can't reach any of the tributes, but they do have an effect. Not inside the arena, but outside. The utter lack of deaths has caused the Capitol to implode with debate over the games, and Gaul dropping the tank to "remind these rebel scum of their place" seals the deal. For 10 years they've allowed themselves to believe these kids were killing each other, but Gaul proved that the only thing killing the kids in there is the Capitol. The backlash towards the government becomes so massive and the pressure from the mentors and their allies so great that the Capitol is forced to end the games and get the kids out. When this is broadcast over the speakers in the arena during golden hour, the camera focuses on Reaper and Treech on top of the beams as they stare at each other lovingly before finally kissing.

[aleksa-sims]

RL Simself Story ( 18+)

CW: Pregnancy, Depression

Another week passed and I was still at my Grandparents. I’ve been here for 3 weeks now. Even my Cuz went back to university. Yesterday I had my exam. At least this thing went well. I passed it with almost maximum points. And yet I couldn’t be happy about it for long. I wasn't feeling well. My depression had reached its peak again, so I couldn't go to work this morning. I lay in bed all day long, staring at my walls. This still felt better than leaving my room. Just thinking about it, overwhelmed me. But I called my therapist. I told her I was pregnant. I haven’t seen her in weeks. Those group sessions I once mentioned, were okay, but I missed much. Anyway, she wanted to see me. She asked me to come to her practice tomorrow, to talk about my panic attacks and some other stuff. She also advised me to continue my medication.

 My Grams was worried about me. She noticed that Nico didn’t come to me anymore. So I told her he broke up with me and that I had to divorce Daniel. And I’m going to file the divorce petition, but getting a divorce is not as easy as I thought. Tbh, it seemed impossible!?? That... person/DA, who handled my divorce, simply did not accept the reasons I gave her for my divorce. She said it would take at least a year, bcs Daniel wasn’t there, and who knows? Maybe we’ll make up, she meant. 😡...Agh, it's going to be complicated. And Daniel will be back soon anyway. Nevertheless, we will not divorce, but we’re not gonna be together either. 😫

That evening, my Parents and my Sister came by at my Grandparents. My Mom wanted to know what’s wrong with me? Why don’t I come back home? My Grams was a little tense when my Mom started to get upset about me. But my Mom was just worried. I was pregnant! What happens now? Do I keep the Baby or not? This was still not quite clear. I had an abortion appointment in 3 days. My Grams got so mad at my mom for talking about that! But my Mom never told me to abort my Baby neither my Dad! They just didn’t know what I really wanted!!??... Am I getting a divorce? Am I keeping Nico's Baby? Why isn't he here? Are we even together? And why am I alone in my room crying? My Parents wanted answers!

And Ana was still confused about my pregnancy. She still thought Dennis might have knocked me up. 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️Ana thought I was so sad because of that. So she finally decided to talk to me about this thing! She came over to my room. But somehow we both did not succeed in talking to each other. I admit, it was hard for me to look at Ana, without having to think about Adam. I mean..... I don’t hate Adam. Still, what he did to me was disgusting. And Ana also had that gross pic of Adam and me in her mind. She didn't feel comfortable around me. Ana & I weren’t mad at each other, we just needed some time, I think. 😞

Ana: Hey, A..... You ok?

Me: Hi 🫤

Ana: I’ve known you were pregnant for 4 weeks, I noticed when you took a pregnancy test. I didn’t want to ask you about it. You know?..... I’m happy for you, if you want a Baby, but... I’m not happy for Daniel. 😞

Me: Yea, that’s why I can’t be happy about it, even though I want a Baby.

Ana: You don’t have to...... do this, if you’re not sure. 🙁

Me: I love N. 😞

Ana: Honestly, A.! Can it be that you do not know exactly who you are pregnant from?? Dennis, you know? You were totally high! Maybe you slept with him and don’t remember?

Me: It's Nico's Baby. Trust me, I know when and how it happend! And I didn't sleep with Dennis!! We were going to, but... well, you know what happend. Adam interfered. And before you ask.... NO, I didn’t sleep with Adam!!

Ana: I know! He was just a few mins alone with you.

Me: You staying here tonight?

Ana: Why don’t you come home?

Me: Um.... I’m tired.

Ana: Ok...... I go back over.... Grama fears Mom and Dad will soon get divorced too, like our stupid uncle....

Me: I don't care. They are 41! They’ll know what they’re doing.

Ana: Whatever you say.

Like I said, I wasn’t really in the mood to talk to Ana. Honestly, I also felt a bit humbled because she thought I didn’t know who I was pregnant with.

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