#i forget my mask one time in a year and immediately get sick

[autismserenity]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[hariboz]

“forget? you?” — shb x gen!reader

a little something i wrote to get back into my writing flow!

ex!hanbin has been plaguing my mind for a while now. the type to make the heart wrenching decision to break up with you to follow his dreams in hopes of finding what he wanted in the spotlight, ready to sacrifice the comfort of your embrace to chase what he has been dreaming of for years.

“thank you for always being by my side, but i don’t know if i can be happy if i don’t try one last time. i don’t want to break your heart, angel, but will you let me go?”

and you did. of course you did, how could you not? you could always see the sparkle in his eyes when he showed you a new choreography he made, the longing in his gaze when watching others dance on the same stages he could only dream of being on. you knew he was happy with you, you knew he loved you. he was happy, loved and comfortable, yet unfulfilled. because while you would give him every single star in the night sky if you could, no amount of your love would sustain his desire to become the shiniest star of them all himself.

so you let him go, gave him your blessing and told him to better make it to the top so your love was not given up in vain.

you had never seen hanbin cry so much before.

“i promise, angel. i’ll carry you with me in my heart.”

and truth be told, ex!hanbin held his promise. he made it. a leader, a highly sought after visual, a mc, a vocalist.

he’s not your binnie anymore. he’s not the one waking up an hour before your alarm to make you breakfast anymore. he’s not picking you up from work with that sweet smile and a smoothie in his hand. he doesn’t try to teach you his choreos anymore. he doesn’t giggle at you while fixing your hair anymore.

on days where it’s especially hard you catch yourself wishing you had refused, had kept him close to you. had begged him to stay back, to not sacrifice all the serene happiness you shared; but then you snap back to reality, the realisation that these selfish thoughts keep crawling their way up making you feel guilty.

it’s a sick twist of fate, you think, when you happen to walk past a wall of support ads for him plastered along your way. you don’t know whether to laugh or cry; whether you should be elated he is receiving an amount of love you could never have given him or whether you should be hurt and bitter that all this meant more to him than you seemingly ever did.

it’s not fair to compare like that, you know that, but it’s not like he’s there to defend himself. he’s never there anymore.

in your inner frenzy, the internal fight between wanting to support the man you still love oh so deeply and the selfish wish to have kept him for yourself, you bump into someone, misty eyes barely focused enough to notice the person in front of you.

you look up briefly to apologise, wanting nothing more than to get away from this overstimulating throwback to your better times, only to realise that the devil — angel — himself is standing right there.

right there, in front of you. sung hanbin. your binnie.

you know it’s him immediately despite the mask he’s wearing. the all too familiar sparkle in his eyes and his pretty lashes that you know all too well blinking back at you in shock, his eyes desperately darting over your face in an attempt to drink in every little change and detail.

you’re just about to speak when he turns at the sound of his name, which is when you finally realise the crowd standing not too far away, observing him like hawks and pointing their phones at him.

right. he’s idol binnie now.

so you bow politely and leave, trying your best to manoeuvre through the crowd. your heart is beating in your ears, your thoughts all jumbled and confused. you haven’t seen him in so long. not in person, anyways, and now you’re running away? what else could you have done?

it’s like you’re on autopilot, not even noticing you’ve made your way back home until you’re stood in front of your apartment. it’s then when you’re about to unlock your door, planning to crawl into bed and never come back out, that your phone vibrates.

first once, then twice.

“i don’t know if you want to talk to me anymore, but i was happy to see you today. even if it was really short.”

“i miss you.”

“you didn’t forget?”

“forget? you?”

“i could never. i love you.”

”did you ever think about dating an idol?”

ex!hanbin who, i think, would give it all up to follow his dream only to realise every single version of his future had you in it. and now he’s here, trying to win you back, hoping it’s not too late. because ex!hanbin is not only a romantic, but also in love. deeply, unabashedly in love.

[prince-kallisto]

Crowley deserved to be in the Glorious Masquerade event 🤧🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛ The outfit was inspired by a lot of different things: Malleus’s costume, plague doctors, nuns (lmao), forget-me-not flowers, and the ceremonial robes. He already has a mask…but I think it would be funny if he wore a second mask on top that looked like a plague doctors 😭 I plan to design more event costumes for him in the future!

I’d like to make a nice painting of the second image too, but I’m not feeling very well today -v- I must have caught something…how ironic that I get sick when designing a plague doctor inspired outfit 😷

I talk more about the concept designs under the cut \(//∇//)\

Crowley’s design was initially like, a copy paste of Malleus’s outfit. I’m actually working on a fic where Crowley went to Noble Bell College instead of Malleus, which is why I started with this idea! But it didn’t feel right, because I wanted Crowley’s design to be unique. I picked out the design elements I liked the most, like the dark colors, feathers, and a draping cape. Although somehow I feel like Crowley’s costume turned out more like a mash up of TWST’s Halloween/New Year outfits…but oh well (´∀｀*) The ideas I have for those events costumes will look very different to make up for it haha

With this and Crowley’s bird mask, I immediately thought of basing his look off a plague doctors, thus the long skirt, buttons, and hat. But I REALLY REALLY love puffy sleeves, especially ones with sheer fabric -v-

Shout out to Japhers (whose both on Twitter and tumblr), because their incredible costume designs helped me out a lot with Crowley’s design 👉👈 I feel like any time I was trouble with an outfit design, I just have to examine their costume design haha for inspiration haha, it’s so amazing! please check them out, their character designs are the most gorgeous things I’ve ever seen

Anyway, I got really torn from here. As you can probably see from the sketches, I had all the elements of his costume, but it was how they would fit together is what gave me some problems. The plague doctor cape covering his arms suited him, but I wanted the puffy sleeves ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ As a compromise, he has puffy sleeves and sheer fabric on his chest underneath the coat because I’m a down-bad simp for Crowley 🧎 He’s also wearing thigh high boots under there because I say so

I wasn’t able to paint it well (I’m not experienced with painting), but he has these…swords on his heels? Yes, they’re a real thing. It’s incredibly gaudy and I love it, Crowley would absolutely wear little golden swords on his heels. The corset is very, VERY loosely rib cage inspired but since the corset is at his waist, it doesn’t really work -v- oh well, I just wanted some pretty chains. His costume comes with a lot of forget-me-not motifs because symbolism lmao (Levan haunts me 24/7) and because of their pretty blue color (*^o^*)

If you read this far, thank you for listening to my rambles 🧎 I’m so excited to work on more event designs for Crowley because I’m really sad the staff members don’t get designs like these! I also want to make card illustrations with these costumes, but I need to take a little break 😷 a break from art, that is lmao. As long as I’m still kicking I shall be on the Crowley posting grind 💪

[katisconfused]

I feel like despite how popular it is to talk about conditions like ADHD and Autism that there's very little talk about the actual learning disability part? IDK it's very frustrating having people enthusiastically encourage taking new classes for hobbies or teaching yourself new skills when you struggle with being able to learn.

I've never been very good at self teaching, and for the most part when I try to get anyone else to teach me it doesn't go well either. Like explaining something once is one thing, explaining it three times is tolerable, five becomes annoying, then you get to the double digits and even generous teachers start getting fed up with you. "You still don't get it? Are you even listening? Are you trying to get out of doing it yourself?" they start thinking, or even saying out loud.

Like honestly I can't even blame them. I'd get sick of it too! There's naturally a higher tolerance for kids I think, but oh boy does patience wear thin when it's a thirty year old asking how to do something you explained a dozen times already.

But it sucks so bad when you're the one who just Can't Get It. Eventually you just give up because you can only emotionally take being given up on so many times, but from the outside everyone just thinks you are just unwilling to put the effort in, and that your lack of success is from insufficient willpower. A more hopeful me tried to start projects that now just loom over me with dread and regret, because everyone I could find to help gave up on me and now I'm stuck trying and failing to do it all on my own. And it's everything. I try to drop something I failed and it's replaced with something that immediately runs through the same cycle.

It's tiring to be nagged for help on something embarrassingly simple, especially from an older person who masks well enough that you can forget they're disabled, but god am I tired too, from all my useless efforts leading to dead ends. But I'm not allowed to quit, because it's my problem, and no matter how I wish otherwise, I can't walk away from myself.

IDK, I guess I just wish that was acknowledged more. Just enough to not automatically assume someone giving up is always them wanting to, and sometimes it's more for the people they're burdening with their failed efforts.

[frostyreturns]

Frosty Ruins Glass Onion

It's a fairly recent movie so I avoided spoilers best I could but I recommend just not seeing this movie altogether because it was cancerously bad.

Now I'm not advocating we forget what happened in 2020 at all, I think we need to remember what they did to us,how retarded it was and how insane people behaved…however I don't want my entertainment to begin with reminders. This came out December of 2022 we've barely just gotten past this shit... I'm more sick of hearing about covid than I ever was from covid…so when something that's supposed to be entertainment begins with someone covering their face because a package is delivered to their door it fills me with rage and I already hate this movie. We went 2 years without a movie where everyone was wearing face masks why the fuck are we starting this horseshit now? Then for it to immediately cut to a CNN segment where the character is ranting about climate change I'd already be asking for my money back if I paid for this.

5 minutes in and we've already hit covid, climate change and feminism and I can already tell this is a Rian Johnson movie. I have no idea what's going on, who anyone is, why I'm supposed to care and the dialogue is weird and unnatural.

I get the sense the director is trying to be funny but I'm not sure because there's no actual jokes. Like there's a group of old people playing among us and the one guy is in a bath and someone asks him if he's in the bath again and he says no…get it because he is. It has the cadence and delivery of a joke but it's just nonsense.

I don't know if Batista is just the worlds shittiest actor or if Rian Johnson was just too much of a human vagina to ask him to redo a single line because there is better acting on a 90's cable access show. When he's playing a socially retarded alien its not as noticeable but when he's just playing a guy you notice how bad he sucks. Also his character is there to just be a caricature of what they call mens rights but based on how they portray him he's a caricature of just anyone who has a male audience because they don't actively shit on men and denounce masculinity. So from the acting to the heavy handed and out of place feminist strawmanning I hated this character. Makes me wonder if Rian Johnson has ever had a single miligram of testosterone in his body.

There was a moment that implies there was an easy covid cure that they only gave to a few small elites and friends. Now was this a moment of honesty masquerading as fiction from hollywood…or was it just a stupid plot device to reconcile that he decided to make the plot happen during covid without having the actors wearing masks the whole time. It really would have overshadowed everything else.Remember how insane people were about covid in 2020 and then imagine those people found out there wasa simple one dose cure...they thought thisshit was killing billions of people nobody would have given a shit about anything else. You're telling me the social media influence, the politician and the scientist just had no interest in a cure for covid in 2020. Either way Rian should have all his cameras and pens taken away from him forever.

Also what the hell happened to Edward Norton? Maybe it really is just Rian Johnson…because in this Norton sounds and looks like he's never been filmed before. I think of Edward Norton as making goofy movies he's in better and more professional, like he made the second iteration of Hulk watchable but here he looks like a lesbian they just pulled off the street, threw him into the movie and did all his lines in one take. He was terrible and when a good actor is terrible you have to look at the script and the director.

Nortons character goes on this rant about disrupting the system and calls everyone at this murder mystery thing a disrupter. A mainstream celebrity, a typical politician, a social media influencer, and a tech billionaire…these are all people he's saying disrupted the system? No these people are the system, these people are the system, getting fat on the system. He even says none of them want to disrupt the system…but then says right after that they are all disrupters of the system. It's the kind of pretentious, contradictory self congratulatory bloviating I'd expect from this douchebag directors dialogue.

The movie is so hard to watch because all the drama is contrived and irritating because none of the people are interesting or likeable. Not to mention that its a murder mystery movie where it takes an hour into the fucking thing for somebody to die and there's already been an annoying Rian Johnson "subversion of expectations" which is ironic because at this point nobody is expecting there to not be some gay twists.

This movie combines everything I hate about the director with everything I don't like about murder mysteries. They make the plots convoluted and use misdirects to keep you from guessing the outcome to the point that the outcome loses believability and it's sense of a cohesive plot. Writers go out of their way to ensure everyone is in some way a suspect and then the premise is made ridiculous. If you host a party of all your closest friends and someone tries to kill you there's no world where every single one of your closest friends is a suspect with evidence and a motive against them. It ruins my suspension of disbelief and comes across as contrived sloppy writing. Rian Johnson takes this weakness in the genre and amplifies it by a hundred because even in other genres he likes to throw reason and comprehensive writing to the wind for the sake of tricking the audience. Ironically knowing this going in I knew who the killer was going to end up being the whole time, so congrats Rian you wanted to be so unpredictible that you're predictible.

He does things like has the investigator say "only you can give me the last piece of the puzzle" right before that character is shot…but the audience is not given any of the information the character is supposed to have. The entire story is one big web of deus ex machina And delivered with the ham fist of paroxysms like a character shouting "What is reality!" after a reveal that the audience was already privy to. More wooden half asses attempts at infusing this train wreck with the semblance of comedy.

And after the reveal they somehow let the killer get close enough to destroy the only evidence they had. There's no way... they had to use a camera trick to make it more believable that someone they thought was a killer could close the gap quick enough and destroy the evidence that quickly because its just another impossible thing done for story convenience.

Also the story resolution was so stupid… nobody will testify for the murders for plot convenience but at the end they all suddenly change their mind for absolutely no reason…except that now is the time the director wants story resolution. He comes up with this convoluted way to get the murderer their just desserts but nobody thinks that they're just now casually rubbing elbows with someone they just all watched proved to be a murderer, nobody grabs a weapon nobody thinks oh they might try to kill again now that they were found out…they just carry on like they're all about to move on since they can't prove anything to the law... even though every single one is an eyewitness. Then instead of the next rational step being a violent solution nobody even thinks of it. What they did do was a crime anyway choosing to assassinate a reputation…which only might happen theoretically, just like them being found innocent in court is theoretical. Nobody behaves rationally, everything is contrived everything is stupid… this movie was fucking terrible. Rian Johnson is the worse director in the world.

0 stars

[jay-lea]

actually fuck it i need to list my old coworkers because it’s insane there were so insane ones

coworker who called out almost every monday from hangovers or went home early while still drunk from the night before bc she was going clubbing during the height of the pandemic for her entire weekends. She actually started her first week during the height of infections by taking off her mask so she could use her phone while telling me about the huge halloween parties she’d done the night before even tho a few of her friends had been exposed to covid. Talked a lot about massaging her lymph node so she could be healthy and begged people not to get vaccinated when our work offered us the vax early for frontline work. Repeatedly told people she had gotten heart conditions from the J&J shot but only after she had just chugged large coffees. wouldn’t wear gloves while touching carcinogens and later we found out she had done all her tests wrong for a solid year too

coworker who had failed out of gen chem 2 times and was failing it a third time when she got hired despite the 4 YEAR SCIENCE DEGREE REQUIREMENT. She poured acid down the sinks and had no idea how a ton of lab stuff worked but everyone said she was nice enough that I shouldn’t be so hard on someone who was still learning. I prev got scrutinized for my degree not being a real science before there. She also liked to come up w rumors about coworkers like that they failed their drug test or were alcoholics and would ask people to take Mormon trivia quizzes w her so they could join her faith. The first time we talked I asked her a generic question about whether she lived w family or pets and she immediately told me graphically about how she killed two turtles by starvation and stopped going to work and school a few months ago bc she didn’t feel like it and not to be shocked, I shouldn’t discriminate about her mental health. She called out a lot, took hours for lunch, and regularly came in an hour late and left hours early while whining that I didn’t stop her from going home so now she would be broke. 

Coworker who immediately told me I was doing stuff wrong the first day she started despite me being there 2 yrs and her being there 1 hour. Routinely tried to quiz people on element names, science, and math to prove she was the smartest person in the room. Called me homophobic for going to pride bc despite the rainbow and trans flags on my locker she couldn’t tell I was gay, then made a joke about me being a top. Took three two-week vacations and then a two week sick leave so she barely existed, then did zero work when she was there but every time I did the actual work of emailing people or writing new lab stuff, she would get mad and rewrite it and personally message our manager asking if I was actually right bc she didn’t think i was right. Got to the point where I was getting migraines every monday and panic attacks on sundays bc she was so goddamn mean to me every week while thinking we were friends bc friends can roast each other. She would talk over me at every meeting and my stutter got so bad I would lose the ability to talk or start forgetting basic words (which she loved bc then she sounded smarter than me). 

the manager who made me publically out myself on department wide meeting awkwardly bc I asked for people to stop making homophobic and transphobic jokes about me. He gave almost every person weeks off or let them get away w leaving early and doing no work bc he said I would handle it and ig is doing the same thing to my replacement rn too

Honorable mentions:

the guy who talked about how he always open carries and implied he was at the moment

the manager that would laugh at me when I did intros w new ppl bc he thought my hobbies were weird and ig was not afraid to let me know it each time

the supervisor obsessed w elon musk who tried to work 80 weeks bc he genuinely believed billionares work 100+ hr weeks and was so tired he made zero sense and didn’t remember how to do anything

the coworker i replaced who would tell two areas she was busy with the other area but then go to a meeting room and nap for the day. she now does mlms full time. 

[miamoo27]

Life has been work the past couple day. I feel directionless. I’m doing great at my job but lacking in school and I’m my “professional life.” Right now my heart isn’t in it I’m feeling connected to work and the kids making a different. I feel impatient with school like I’m waiting to be done despite mt enjoyment in learning. But the pressure feels horrific lately. I was sick for two days still feel it. Work has been disgustingly stressful due to my co worker. Being horrific with the kids. And then I have my lab mentor telling me “it’s unprofessional to have an unexpected absence without notice” ummm so sorry I was asleep and not feeling well once. It isn’t a pattern.

The pressure is fucking on and I wanna roll in a ball. I can’t help my restless ways it’s mt nature. It’s hard to be under this much and try so hard yet be fearful of telling others what I need. I overplease until I can’t do it. Now I have this dumb fucking stupid party tomorrow SORRY. That has to do with my dads family coming here. My stomach still hurts I’m getting my period and I don’t need this. I hate the voice in my head that says stop complaining stop worrying. My parents are fighting don’t blame my mom. She doesn’t want them here. I don’t really but he is my father. He knows how I feel. I’m not passive aggressive with how I feel or “fresh” I just say it. Probablt a reason some don’t like me. I care what others think but I’m also not going to “fake” it to make others comfortable. I hate doing that and I need to stop doing that. I need to just be completely honest with mt feelings. I hate putting on a mask. This morning I didn’t. Adam my conworkee noticed it immediately. Saying he noticed when she came in I was upset. Not with the kids but at here. He said he knows I care a lot. It shows. I do care a lot it’s one of mt faults. I deeply devote myself to one thing and forget about everything else. (This is a new personality character because I used to mindlessly do too many things). I forgot about school for a good two weeks. I stopped replying to emails, texts, calls. I also hate texting people consistently. I’m exhausted I have no time for me. I don’t wanna do this shit and go to appointments but sadly we live in a world where appoints exist. Weirdly I’m amazing at staying on time at work. I take care of 18 4 year olds and clean up after them feed them love them nurture them and teach them. Yet I can’t text someone back something doesn’t add up. Even my therapists texts intimidate me. Yet I can Literallt fight someone in real life. But that’s only people I don’t respect. Which unfortunely I respect all my professors.

To give myself credit I’ve dealt with a ton of shit while doing all of this. So I haven’t processed my moms addiction or really my feelings around men in general. I’m afraid to be in love. True shit. I have high standard now which makes my red flag alarm go up everytime I encounter a guy. One has a gf one has a baby one has an addiction one can’t commit and one is gay. The world is insane. I feel like Janis Joplin “one good man”. Where they at tho? It’s been a long ass day this is an insane rant and probablt makes no sense but I need to write it. Apart from all these downfalls I’m genuinely a good person I think I care about people animals pets children everyone. Yet I don’t trust men romantically. I have barely any trust in the world and I’m nervous.

How could I be two things at once.

Someone who loves the universe and nature. Believes in peace and tries to show it. Feels connected spiritually to the earth.

Someone who doesn’t trust people. Is afraid of love. Disgusted by pda.

It isn’t the world I don’t trust it’s the people and what they did scares me and I’m afraid it could happen again. I get so hooked to someone quickly. When I love i reallt love. Nick showed me that he didn’t bring me the same. He knew that so he broke my heart more by even knowing he didn’t have the same love for me. I tried to stay and make him love me but that’s the worst type of love. I needed him. To love me. It made me feel like shit for so long I couldn’t speak. He broke up with me I felt like my world fell apart. I couldn’t see the reality. He didn’t feel what I could feel he wasn’t capable of having the love I have.

I used to think those were things people tell them selves to feel better. But truthfully what is actually true. They aren’t in your life anymore so does the way they feel actually matter? You will never know how they feel because they don’t so what’s the use in figuring out. It’s been a waste of time one I needed though to get through the storm on the side of independence I went from serial dater/sex to being single for almost two years. I needed to go through nick. To see what it’s like to love someone who can’t do the same to break my heart. It did but in the end I got smarter.

[hannahsmusings]

*Jackson just nodded at the mention of those delicious macarons he loved so much, knowing he would indulge today, fuck the strict and rigid rules he set up for himself, he was sick of wallowing in his own self pity and using alcohol as an escape, he would just use delicious sweets to mask the pain and sadness today* *he shakes his head when Bonnie mentions getting Martin* I want to drive if that’s okay… *he would always go to the bakery as just Jackson, he was never the billionaire philanthropist when he was there and it didn’t feel right showing up with a chauffeur, he just wanted to go back to those simpler times, before his family had put all of this on him, before he became a household name, before he met you and had his entire world turned upside down, he just wanted to feel normal, that being the beauty of that little bakery, it made him feel normal and at home and he wanted to live in that feeling for a bit* I’ll be down in a moment. Thank you, Bonnie. *he gives her a small yet tight lipped smile before getting up, slowly making his way to the bathroom to freshen up* *he showered and got himself ready, throwing on some comfortable clothes before heading downstairs, spotting Bonnie in the foyer* *he grabs his own personal car keys from the ring where they hung by the door, it being rare for Jackson to drive on his own without Martin so he was excited, as excited as a severely depressed person could be* *he walks with her out to the garage, clicking the unlock button his key fob and climbing into the Range Rover that his father got for him when he locked down his biggest client that took Ford Industries from a million dollar company to a billion dollar one, the only nice thing he had ever done for his son* *the ride into town was quiet, Jackson deep in his head and just watching the scenery, not usually getting the front seat view like this, always being in the back with tinted windows and usually staring down at his phone, but now he was taking everything in as if it was for the first time* *he parked outside the bakery, getting out and helping Bonnie out before walking into the bakery with her, holding the door for her and a few other customers that walked out, the smell of sweets and dough hitting him and he immediately felt like he was home, nothing having changed since he was last there* *his cheeks immediately warmed as the two older women behind the counter instantly recognized him, giving them both polite smiles* Hi there, loves. How are you?

*it had been forever since Jackson had come into the shop, Martha’s heart nearly exploding out of her chest at the sight of him, he looked thinner and very pale than she remembered but she would never forget the boy’s face, he may of been a grown man now but she would always see him as that lost little boy who was desperate for any maternal and nurturing love* Jackson! My boy! *she rushes out from behind the counter, going right for him and immediately wrapping her arms around him, her barely coming up to his shoulders* Oh dear, it’s been so long! Far too long! 

__________________________________________________

*smiles at your request, shaking my head fondly* Of course that’s okay. We’ll head out when you’re ready. *smiles softly, pleased when you looked more yourself after getting changed, letting you open the car door for me and watching you as you drive, some peace seeming to settle within you and it reminding me of when you were young, you having loved all the old cars* *we get to the bakery, feeling like it had been over 3 years since you’d been here, knowing I came and updated the women every so often about how things were going but I knew you loved this place, especially the owner before she died, glad to see it was still here and you still felt so comfortable* *smiles warmly at you as you open the door* Thanks, love. *grins before you get caught by the women at the counter, chuckling at Martha and Helen as they hug you so tight, loving that this women loved you as much as I did* - Bonnie

*shocked to see you, it having been years since you’d been to the bakery, Bonnie telling us all about you throwing yourself into the world of business and how you’d lost yourself a little, even now I could see you weren’t happy and that broke my heart, remembering how you were such a lost and sad little boy and how much we cherished your rare smiles, particularly Jean, she would do anything she could to make you smile when she was alive* Goodness!! You’ve grown a foot! *mumbles and rants as I hug you* Leaving us so long without getting a good look at you! Here, take a seat and we’ll fetch you your favourites. *gives you a gentle push but grinning as I go back to the counter and call through to the kitchen* Han, love. Bring us out some of those fresh macarons would you dear? We’ve got a special guest! *calls through, grinning* Hannah’s Jean’s daughter. I’m sure she told you all about her, you’re around the same age I think, she’s been helping us out this week. -Helen

*I was just finishing up putting some cinnamon buns in the oven, wiping my cheek and leaving a little streak of flour there, my curls up in a clip and wearing a casual comfy outfit as I look up as Helen calls out and grinning at the joy in her voice, both Martha and Helen were always so happy, it was infectious when I was around them* *begins to gather the fresh macarons, some lemon, some raspberry and a special dark chocolate one I’d invented, grabbing two trays and coming out to the front of the bakery behind the counter, grinning* Here we are..*says with a smile before my eyes scan and lock on you stood there, heart seizing in my chest and looking totally stunned as I freeze, breath hitching and blinking slowly as thoughts race through my head, wondering how you were here? were you here for me?* *my heart begins to pound fiercely at being so close to you, stomach twisting with want and feeling all the buried emotion rush back into my chest, throat tightening with just wanting to run into your arms, the pain and confusion of the last week flooding back but also the desire, the warmth of seeing you again was fighting to be heard, caught in your gaze* J-Jackson...? *trails off, looking at both the ladies before seeing Bonnie, wondering if this had been organised* H-How did you know I was here?

[savkirschtein]

The AOT friend groups after a break up headcanons

Modern college SNK friend group au headcanons/semi imagine

characters: (Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert) (Jean Kirschtein, Connie Springer, Sasha Braus, Marco Bodt)

Multiple characters x gn! reader or fem!reader, w/ ex male s/o

Warnings: FLUFF! mentions of ED! cheating, depression, alcohol, threatening of violence, vandalism, doxxing and cussing

Eren, Mikasa, Armin:

• You had just gotten out of a 2 year relationship, after catching your boyfriend cheating on you. Needless to say shit was rough.

• But now your friends were worried sick. Your distance was understandable, but that didn’t make them worry any less.

• Eren and Armin were kept up to date about you through Mikasa. As not only was she your best friend, but also your roommate.

• Mikasa had been the one to wake you up every morning for your classes, making sure you at least ate a granola bar on your way out to class.

• Because although she knew you’d much rather lay in bed all day, Mika knew deep down that you would regret slipping up in class more later on.

• And of course the boys were supportive. They both would send texts in the morning or throughout the day.

Armeen👼🏼: If you need a coffee, I got your regular latte with oat milk for after your morning lecture💙

Ereh👹: I got you a bowl from chipotle, imma head up to yours and Mika’s apartment to drop it off before my class starts

• But Eren, Mikasa, and Armin allowed you, your space for the most part. Making sure not to bring the topic up at all until you were ready. And not forcing you to go out if you didn’t want to.

• But once it hit the end of the 2nd week of your break up, they knew that by then was a good time to step in.

• Mikasa had a late lecture on Friday night, meaning she probably wouldn’t be back till 7. So that left you in your apartment all alone until she would eventually come home.

• Lights off in the entire apartment. Laying in your room which has now developed quite the mess. Clothes both clean and dirty that you’ve refused to fold and put away, or put in your hamper. Empty, and half filled water bottles you would forget to put in the trash. Assignments and textbooks astray that you couldn’t bring yourself to organize let alone do.

• As of late you had been doubting your self worth, these part 2 weeks have just been beating you down. And truthfully it feels like nothing could possibly make you feel better. You’ve lost motivation to do even the most basic things like shower.

• And on top of all of that. You felt bad because for the past 2 weeks you’ve been shutting out the 3 people who you care for the most. They were only trying to be supportive, and yet here you were loathing around, when they were only trying their best.

• Everything you used to find easy and fun, became so difficult to even attempt and dull.

• You get taken out of your daze by a knock on the front door. Which left you puzzled because nobody should even be home, and the only people that would be, were busy.

• You open the door and take in the sight of your 3 childhood best friends with bags in hand. Smiling at you in your crumpled form, wearing 3 day old sweat pants, and oversized t-shirt.

• From what you can see in the bags in their hands, poking out were your favorite snacks, drinks, and even face masks.

• Immediately you just break down crying.

• Knowing that the 3 of them were busy with class, homework, or work, and yet here they were right in front of you. Purposely putting their own obligations aside just for you.

• Eren bursts through the door and drops the bags on the side to embrace you in the biggest hug, with Mikasa and Armin coming in on the sides to hold you as well.

• Eren wipes your tears with his thumbs, as Mikasa brushes your stray hairs aside and tucking them behind your ear, with Armin rubs your back to soothe you as well.

• Once you guys got settled, the 3 of your friends just let you vent. Getting all of your tears, and frustrations out. Occasionally making their own comments and remarks.

“I swear to god, I’ll put him on his ass Y/N just say the word.” Eren being the protective friend he is just clenched his fists together hearing every word that came from your mouth, all with a scowl on his face. With Mika and Armin thinking of their own plots.

“Or pop his tires, or maybe we should key his car. Or I’ll do it by myself. You said that ugly ass car meant a lot to him right?” Mikasa brings up as she looks at you, saying it in a tone that let you know she was actually considering it.

"Or I can beat his ass too." She adds, confident in her ability to put the man that broke your heart in his place.

“What if we doxxed him.” Armin said so nonchalantly, as he took a drink from the wine Mikasa bought, that you all didn’t even really grasp what he said until it really settled. Making you all laugh till your ribs began to hurt. But Armin was honestly being partially serious.

• After getting what you needed to out by venting. You 4 ended up playing all of your favorite board games, and video games from when you were younger.

• Making cookies together with the pre-made dough, snacking on all of your favorite snacks and drinks.

• Doing skin care, and putting face masks on together. To which Eren and Armin ended up asking if you guys could do face masks more often afterwards, because of how relaxing and nice their skin felt afterwards.

• And binge watching your guys’ favorite shows and anime together, until eventually you all knocked out.

• You end up waking up at 2 am to something falling on the ground, only to find your friends scrambling to pack stuff in a picnic basket, gathering blankets, pillows, and even the lawn chairs from the closet by the entrance door.

“Dammit Eren.” Mikasa palms her forehead as she stood in the kitchen packing the picnic basket. With Armin folding the blankets and packing the pillows shaking his head on the other end of the couch.

Eren picks up the lawn chair he dropped and turns to you with a shy and apologetic smile.

“My bad Y/N. We weren’t going to wake you till we were done.” He rubs his neck after throwing the chair bag’s strap over his shoulder.

“Just hurry up and take the stuff to the car you two.” Mika makes her way to you still dazed and half asleep on the couch. She plops down on the open part of the couch near your stomach and fixes a stray hair out of your face. As Eren walks towards the door, Armin follows shortly behind, lightly slapping the back of his head on their way out.

“What’s going on?” You ask with a raspy voice, still a bit fuzzy in the head, probably from the amount of wine you had drunk.

“We thought you could use a bit of fresh air, I already packed your hoodie in Eren’s car. Come on.” She gently ushers you off the couch holding both of your hands and pulling you out of the apartment. Making sure to lock the door behind you both.

Eren and Armin were already in the complex parking lot waiting for you both in the car after packing everything. Mikasa taking the passenger seat, as you take the seat behind Eren’s driver, with Armin across from you.

Armin is quick to put the unused part of the blanket he had over his legs on you, making sure it’s covering your arms, and sharing the warmth. Making you smile at him.

As Eren continues to drive on the empty roads, do you realize exactly where you’re all heading.

The beach.

You arrive and it was completely dark, with the occasional light post, and the smallest help of lighting from the moon.

Mikasa hands you your oversized hoodie to put on before you step out. Knowing it’s about to be freezing. While Eren and Armin get out of the car to grab everything. When you and Mika step out the car to help gather whatever the boys couldn’t carry, you head out to the sand to pick a spot on the empty beach.

After setting up the blanket and pillows on top of the sand, along with the chairs, picnic basket, lantern light, and mini speaker. You all settle down, sat close to each other with a huge blanket wrapped around all of you, binding the four of you together.

Almost reminiscent of how it was like when you were kids, merely teenagers at the beach huddled close for warmth sharing a blanket together at midnight. Eren on the left holding one end of the blanket, Mikasa on your right, and Armin on the other end holding the other end.

And for a while it’s just silent with nothing but the crashing of the waves, and Eren’s playlist of songs that reminded him of you, Mikasa and Armin being the only things heard.

From there you felt at ease, of course the heartbreak you had just endured was painful. But in that moment, you felt nothing but warmth, nothing but pure love for the three people at your sides. And nothing but the love they had for you as well.

They were your childhood best friends, they were your family. They knew you best, and you couldn’t help but be grateful, and wonder how did you ever get so lucky. So lucky, to be able to watch the sky slowly be painted with the beautiful, warm hues of oranges, pinks, and yellows of the sunrise.

In the midst of a heart ache that you swore would never go away, you were able to feel the tightness around you heart ease even if it was for just a moment. But that was all owed to the people at your sides that you were lucky enough to call your best friends.

____________________________________________

Jean, Connie, Sasha, & Marco:

• After finding out that your boyfriend of 3 years had not only been cheating on your for 2 months, but had been cheating on you with multiple people. Let’s just say you were not in the best shape.

• You were hurt. Has heartache ever hurt this bad before? Why did it look like the world was losing its color?

• And on top of that, you were embarrassed. This person you were so dedicated to, talked so highly of, and loved deeply, had just turn his back on you. And betrayed all of that. He made you look stupid and naive.

• Your friends on the other hand felt bad, but more than anything they were PISSED. After you had told them everything in the middle of a breakdown, they just couldn’t let it slide so easily.

• Especially since they were the ones that had to deal with the aftermath of your broken heart, not that they minded at all. But having to see how badly of a toll it took on you, it only made them more angry.

• With Sasha being your roommate and best friend, she had to watch you first hand, sleep the days away, struggle to get out of bed, skip meals, and slowly look like you were withering away.

• Of course she did her best for you, packing you sandwiches in your bag before you would head off to class in the morning from your guy’s shared apartment. Waking you up so you can at least have a chance to make it to class.

• And she would text Jean, Connie, and Marco how you were doing. Keeping them up to date

Y/N protection squad🤝

Sash👩‍❤️‍👩: I at least got her to eat a piece of toast before she left for class.

Jeanie🧑🏼‍🌾: that’s good, I’ll probably get lunch with her later and see what happens. That asshole really fucked everything up for her.

Cornelius💂🏻‍♀️: my question is…WHY👏🏼 HAVEN'T👏🏼 WE 👏🏼JUMPED 👏🏼THAT👏🏼 MF 👏🏼YET👏🏼🤨😫😫

DeMarcus👰🏻: to be honest…yeah, why haven’t we done that yet :/

Sash👩‍❤️‍👩: MARCO???? HELPPP😭

Cornelius💂🏻‍♀️: MARCO STOP I KNOW YOU LYING.

Cornelius💂🏻‍♀️: YOU AINT ABOUT IT MARCO

Jeanie🧑🏼‍🌾: I say we do something

Sash👩‍❤️‍👩: 👀

Cornelius💂🏻‍♀️: 👀

DeMarcus👰🏻: When. And where.

• It was Friday of the 2nd week of your break up. Usually you and your friends would have gone out like usual to either the diner down the street from campus, maybe a drive in movie, the roller rink, or even froyo.

• But because of your distance and lack of socializing within the past 2 weeks, your friends thought it was best to just not press you about going out.

• So instead of doing anything without you they all just said they’d do whatever individually. The same way they had to last week when you refused to leave your room in yours and Sasha’s apartment.

• Connie saying he’d probably hit the gym with his teammates, Jean opting for working on his art project early, and Sasha and Marco saying they’d just pick up shifts at their part time jobs.

• You on the other hand just lied curled up on the couch of your now empty apartment. Refusing to stay even a second longer in the depression mess that has become your room. Literally exhausted, even after sleeping till noon, and taking a long nap even after that.

• No matter the amount of sleep you were exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally. The lack of energy had you failing to even attempt to eat the fruit Marco had bought, cut, and packed away in a Tupperware for you in the fridge. Drinking water felt like a chore too.

• Before you knew it you fell back into a deep slumber. Only to be awoken, by the looks of the time on your phone, an hour later. To a FaceTime notification…

Cornelius💂🏻‍♀️

would like to FaceTime…

You press the red button to decline. Putting the phone down underneath the pillow to go back to sleep, only for ANOTHER call notification to come in.

DeMarcus👰🏻

would like to FaceTime…

You yank your phone out from underneath the pillow and press the green button this time to answer with a harshness in your voice both from just being waken up, and also from irritation.

“WHAT.” You say as the light from your side of the phone lights Marco’s freckled face, who seemingly is in the dark of his van, with maybe street light posts lit from behind him.

“Well. First of all. Hi Y/N! I’m doing great, thank you for asking. I hope you ate the fruit I cut and packed away for you this morning…now. You were saying?” Marco says in a kind, but also slightly passive aggressive way as his way to say ‘I don’t appreciate your tone’ to which you sigh and collect yourself.

“Sorry Marco, I’m just tired. What’s up?” You say with a better tone now after being put in check by your friend.

“Well I was going to ask—HEY” Marco gets cut off by his phone forcefully being turned to another familiar face.

“OH SO YOU ANSWER HIM, BUT NOT ME?” Connie yells after turning the lights on the car roof in Marco’s van on, coming up from the backseat. Only for you to hear familiar laughs and chuckles, both that you knew belonged to Jean and Sasha.

“You interrupted my nap. So yes. I declined your call. Disrespectfully.” You say unamused, as you were still tired. Only to make Jean laugh even louder from the passenger seat beside Marco, and Sasha in the backseat behind him. To which Connie gets offended and playfully sticks his tongue out, before flipping you off and settling back into his seat.

Sasha gets up this time, to lean over the glove department towards Marco’s phone to get your attention.

“Come outside babe. We’re going somewhere.” She grins knowingly with excitement. As the boys all watch you on the screen shuffle to sit up from the couch. Going over to the window of your guy’s living room window which saw out to the complex lot. To see Marco’s infamous van parked on the curb.

“But—” Before you can even answer Sasha is quick to cut you off.

“Nope. We aren’t giving you an option this time. I’m telling you girl. You have to come outside now.” Sasha points to you through Marco’s camera.

“It’s either you come outside or me and Connie are going in.” Jean says as he turns Marco’s phone towards himself, giving you a stern look. Making you groan, knowing damn well that he was serious.

“…whatever.” You roll your eyes in defeat, making all four of your friends cheer in unison at their small victory to get you out the apartment.

“And bring a jacket or something it’s going to be cold.” He finishes before Connie snatched the phone out of Marco’s hands.

“YOU GOT 5 MINUTES BOO. NO MORE. NO LESS.” Is all he yells before ending the call out of nowhere. Groaning once more you take yourself to your room to grab the oversized flannel you took from Jean. Sliding it on, before grabbing and lacing up your converse, and heading out the door.

• As you head down the elevator to the lobby do you begin to feel anxious. You had only ever left the apartment for school. Since your part time job was on campus you didn’t have to go anywhere else.

• This whole breakup had you stripping yourself of all things that were fun. All things normal. Not because you wanted to of course. But because it also stripped you of your motivation, stripped you of ability to feel excitement.

• So whatever your friends had planned you hoped deep down could help. Because truthfully, you also felt bad for them. They’ve been so supportive and loving through all of this. And your lack to give it back, let alone do anything at all made you feel like you were holding them back, and becoming a burden.

As soon as you’re met with the stingingly cold air, you’re quick to make a small jog to the van. With your four best friends waiting impatiently inside.

You take a look through the front windshield to see them all cheerily smiling with the yellow light from the roof of the car lighting their faces. Shaking your head and rolling your eyes, you force yourself to the door on Marco’s side sliding it open, with Connie popping out to let you in.

“BOUT DAMN TIME.” He playfully rolls his eyes, earning him a flick to the forehead from you as you hop in to the seat next to Sasha, Connie sliding in next to you afterwards.

You look to the Jean and Marco in the front seats, raising your eyebrows, waiting for some sort of explanation of what is going on. To which Marco holds up two rolls of toilet paper, and Jean in the passenger seat holding up two cartons of eggs.

Your eyes widen, then Sasha taps your shoulder to look at the back seat of the van. You lift yourself up to turn over and look to see more packs of toilet paper and cartons of eggs in the backseat as well. She smiles at you proudly, you turn to see Connie smirking with his eyebrow raised. You snap your attention forward to the two in the front, knowing exactly where this was going.

“Let’s do this.”

As if your ex cheating on you wasn't embarrassing enough. Mf was also in a frat. As to why you let that red flag slide so easily, don't know. But this little mission your friends had planned was perfect.

He and his frat would be competing at a Brotherhood tournament or some shit. Meaning their house was vacant.

And that these mfs really lied about doing everything they said they would to do this.

As soon as you pull up to the curb, of the familiar three story, brick house. Jean hops out quickly to pop the trunk of the van. With Sasha and Connie on both sides of you, turning to lean over their seats, reaching behind to grab toilet paper and cartons of eggs from the back.

Marco braces himself as he gets out of the driver's seat to help Jean out. You sit between your two friends, now kind of unsure of all of this, but as Jean slides the door on Sasha's side open from outside, he looks at you with a reassuring look knowing exactly what you're thinking.

"Don't feel bad for that asshole, or his punk ass frat Y/N. They don't deserve it" He says with rolls of toilet paper in his hands. And Sasha turns to face you with a kind smile on her face.

"Jean's right hon, he doesn't deserve a single ounce of your sympathy. Not after what he did." She takes your hand in her warm one. With Connie nodding on your left, agreeing with the other two.

"He's a thot in a frat full of thots Y/N, if anything we are doing community service." Connie adds, making you laugh.

"And besides, this will give those man whores an excuse to actually clean their stank ass house." He lightly pats your shoulder before sliding out on his side, with egg cartons in his hands. Walking to meet Marco on the other side of the van, behind Jean.

"But of course, if you don't want to Y/N, we don't have to. We can always do something else. Don't feel pressured to do this. And if you don't want us to, we can totally pack up and go eat, or hang at the pier or something." Marco comes into view, standing beside Jean with understanding eyes. As the rest of your friends look to you waiting on an answer. To which you answer by taking a roll of toilet paper from Sasha's arms with a smile.

"If Marco is willing to do this, then it would be criminal to opt out." You hop out after Sasha, all five of you looking at each other and laugh before going to work on the house.

The entire process of the egging and TP'ing the house Marco made sure to stay on the side walk, close to the trunk to supply the four of you with eggs and toilet paper. But also to keep an eye out for anyone who may be coming, in case he may have to book it to the driver's seat.

Connie and Sasha both take their rolls and run around the porch of the house wrapping them around the pillars. Giggling as they run down the steps to finish part of the job by throwing them on the tall trees of the lawn. Leaving streamers of toilet paper dangling from the branches. While you and Jean just went ape shit with the eggs, chucking them at the windows, on the cement, and the roof.

"You would think that as rich as frats are, they'd get a ring camera or something." Jean chuckles at how you guys really were about to potentially get away with this.

"Oh they will, after this." You laugh as you chuck another egg at one of the windows. Marco then runs up to you two, holding silly string cans up, more than happy to give them to you both after handing some to Sash and Connie.

Then all five of you just run around the lawn and porch with silly string of all different colors, spraying them all over the place. Anywhere it could stick to, the weird strings of purple, green, orange, pink, and blue were there. You all get so caught up in the fun of it, that you forget that this was all being done out of spite of your ex.

As you all continue the job, Connie jogs back to the van trunk to grab more cans of silly string, before he sees headlights approaching from down the street. His eyes widen knowing exactly who was coming.

"YOU GUYS WE GOTTA GO. LIKE. NOW." He yells from the trunk of the van. Making you and Marco look like dears in headlights as you stand on the porch. And Jean and Sasha freeze in the middle of lawn.

Connie sprints to the driver's seat of the van, knowing there was no time to get into the usual positions. Starting it up as you all drop everything and make a break for the open back seat of the van.

"HURRY THE FUCK UP." Connie yells leaning over the wheel to look out the open passenger seat door at you guys.

Marco is quick to drop the cans and grab your hand to drag you along. With Jean and Sasha literally diving into the back seat already.

"COME ON!" Sasha yells as she looks past Jean at you and Marco.

Both of you look to see the bright headlights approaching closer, before splitting up. Marco hopping into the passenger, and you literally jumping into the laps of Sasha and Jean in the back seat.

Connie quickly speeds off, before Jean can even close the back door, or even let you get yourself to sit between the both of them. While Connie makes sharp turns into different neighborhoods as a way to lose anyone who could be on your guys' tail. Sasha and Jean swiftly help you off their laps to sit in between them both. Then with all of you looking over your shoulders making sure you weren't being followed.

And once Connie was sure the coast was clear, he stopped in a quiet empty parking lot of a park. As soon as he parked, both him and Marco turn around to look at Sasha, you, and Jean in the backseat. And you all immediately break down dying in a burst of laughter at each other.

"I can't believe we just did that." Marco giggles.

"That shit was too good." Connie cackles as he wipes tears from his eyes, from laughing so hard. With you, Sasha, and Jean all leaning on each other for support, trying to regain composure with your stomachs all hurting from the laughter, and cheeks hurting from smiling so much.

"I want a milkshake." Sasha sighs once everything died down, and you all had caught your breaths.

And immediately as soon as those words leave her mouth you all give each other knowing looks and smirks, with Marco and Connie without hesitation hopping out to switch seats.

From there you guys make your way to the local diner you all go to often together, and treat yourselves to the usual milkshakes, refillable baskets of fries, and burgers after a successful mission. Laughing at parts being brought up from your chaotic night, reminiscing on old memories from middle school and high school, and simply enjoying the presence of each other.

And as you sat in the booth between Marco and Sasha, with Jean and Connie across from you, you begin to feel at peace. The most at peace and comfort you had felt since the ending of your shitty relationship. Your heart for the first time in two weeks swelled with warmth, and not pain.

Your friends all glancing at you occasionally amidst the conversations, just glad to see color returning back to your face, and the brightness of your smile coming back.

And although the emotions of sadness, resentment, and heartache were still far from over. These feelings you were experiencing in the moment, feelings of love, importance, home. Were the starts of your heart coming back together happily.

All because of the hilarious, caring, crazy, and loving four people at your sides. The four people you were lucky enough to call your best friends.

[kazewhara]

Can I request diluc and childe with a strict doctor s/o? In fics their partner is usually portrayed as softer and more patient…but I want to see one who’s unafraid to call the boys out when they’re overworking or not taking care of themselves. Someone who has no qualms to go “you haven’t had a proper meal in DAYS eat your goddamn food” (esp to diluc lmao fire batman needs to rest)

P.s. just found this blog literally two hours ago and I completely fell in love with EVERYTHING? ❤️❤️❤️ You write angst deliciously too!

sick and tired.

masterlist!

# — pairings: diluc, childe x gn!doctor!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, diluc, childe, kaeya, bennett

# — summary: you've never been one to sit idly by and watch someone run themselves ragged, and your lover is no exception.

# — warnings: swearing, blood/injury mention, mildly suggestive content/speech (minors, i've got my eyes on you.)

# — tags: drabble format!!, (physical) hurt/comfort, fluff, a spoonful of angst, childe makes a few dirty jokes, the darknight hero wears a mask (finally.)

# — notes: everyone makes dirty jokes, even in their teenage years.. i'm not gonna tell minors not to interact since it's not explicit (really, it's just a comment or two), but this is the first time i'm writing something containing smth even remotely nsfw, so please don't forget that there may be more explicit stuff down the line! anon i'm sorry for the long note, but it had to be said so YEAH i hope you guys enjoy, and as always, reblogs/reactions are always appreciated!!

✧ — 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐜 — ✧

"you're still awake." you deadpan, folding your arms over your chest as you watch your fiancé from the doorway. it's about 2:30 in the morning and diluc is still in his office, hunched over his desk with a mountain of paper work in front of him. you see his back straighten at the sound of your voice and he spins in his chair to get a better look at you.

"what are you doing up, darling?" he asks, his voice rich and honey-sweet. it's sickening, and not in a good way. you can see the way diluc blinks the fatigue away in an effort to soothe you, but it doesn't work. "are you having trouble sleeping? should i send someone to--"

your icy glare shuts him up immediately. if kaeya were here, he'd bust up about how the almighty diluc was silenced by nothing but a stern look. it'd be funny if you weren't so pissed off.

when you met diluc, you were the esteemed healer of the knights of favonius. your dendro healing capabilities were second to none in all of mondstadt, and adventurers who came from far and wide always came to you for premium treatment. you've seen some gruesome things over the years, but you've since grown numb to it, viewing each new injury as a learning experience. at some point, eight years ago, you thought you'd seen it all.

until you came across the battered body of the darknight hero.

"shit, shit, c'mon, breathe!" you pleaded as you desperately performed compressions on his chest. you had just finished your shift for the night when you heard the dying shriek of an abyss mage by mondstadt's gate. worried that the knights who killed it had gotten hurt, you rushed to their aid only to find a man with flaming red hair collapsed on the ground. you would have ruled it out as exhaustion if not for the fact that you couldn't see him breathing. you leapt into action and flipped the body over to scan him for further damage.

"dear archons," you swore.

you've seen some bad shit in your career. bennett, that poor boy, once came in with his leg crushed after another failed expedition; timaeus has come in (more than once, actually) after albedo accidentally botched some alchemical experiments, and so on. but nothing, nothing could have prepared you for the cryo damage you saw on the darknight hero's torso.

swallowing back the apprehension that never seemed to go away before healing someone, you reached over to check his pulse. when you felt nothing, you took a steadying breath. it's okay; you've dealt with patients like this. you can do this. you can still save him. you fumbled with his clothing and murmured a soft apology as you revealed the skin right over his heart.

fortunately, the cryo that spread across his body didn't seem to have reached his heart just yet, but if you lingered any longer, it would. you got right to work, hoping to at least kickstart his pulse. the flow of blood would raise his body temperature -- not by much, but it would be enough for you to continue healing elsewhere. so you started to perform cpr, lacing your fingers over his chest and began compressions.

that was fifteen minutes ago.

you refused to give up -- like hell you would give up! the darknight hero is... well, he's mondstadt's hero. he couldn't die here; you wouldn't allow it. "please wake up, you can do it..." you murmured to his unmoving body. you shut your eyes for a moment, scolding yourself for nearly considering him to be a corpse. you said a silent prayer to barbatos, begging for him to have mercy on the man beneath you.

a warm, gentle breeze rustled your clothes as you performed one more rescue breath. the very second your lips left the hero's, his body lurched and he gasped in a desperate effort to bring air into his lungs.

you did it.

you sat back on your haunches with a relieved gasp of your own. as much as you wanted to celebrate your success, your job wasn't done yet. "take slow breaths, sir. you just-- uh, what are you doing?"

the darknight hero, the man who literally just came back from the dead, was trying to get up and walk off. he groaned deeply as he rolled himself over and tried to push himself up onto his knees. "did... did you see," he panted, "my face?"

did you? you actually had no idea how to answer that, but the question made you frown. "who cares if i did?" you retorted. you grabbed his shoulders and slowly maneuvered him back down onto the ground. "you nearly died and that's the first thing you have to say?" you could feel him trying to resist you, but his muscles were too weak. it was a miracle he managed to turn himself over at all.

the crimson-haired man coughed. "it's... so cold. what happened?" he started to shiver and shake violently. you figured it was about time that he did.

"you're wasting your breath, sir." you scolded. you glanced at his face briefly. even if you wanted to see his face, you couldn't; there was a mask covering his eyes. but even with such a short look, you knew right away who the darknight hero really was.

really. if diluc ragnvindr wanted to hide his identity better, he should've worn a hooded cloak.

diluc didn't put up a fight after that. he actually drifted to sleep under the influence of your soothing dendro energy. it made the job easier. when he woke up, you sat him up and insisted that you escort him home. he fought you on it right away.

"you saw my face." he grunted. "why else would you offer something like that?"

"a thank you would be nice," you snapped back. you didn't wither under the intense glare he gave you from under his mask. you scoffed after a tense pause. "or not, i guess. you bring a man back to life and all you get is an angry stare." you mumbled to yourself as you stood and dusted off your clothes.

diluc's eyes followed your every movement. you could still feel the irritation rolling off of his weak frame in waves. "forgive my discourtesy," he said after a while. "is the escort offer still available?"

at least you know he isn't some self-absorbed asshole. you nodded and helped him back to the mansion, where adelinde ushered him inside with wide eyes. before leaving, you stopped her.

"make sure he doesn't leave this mansion for two weeks." you instructed. it wasn't a request; if he worked any more in that state, he was bound to hurt himself ever further.

adelinde's eyes jumped between you and the mansion. "oh... that's, um... i'll take it under advisement."

"i'm serious. i'll send someone from the cathedral with some medication; i better not have to save his life like that again."

you left without another word. it wasn't the first time you'd dealt with an ungrateful patient, but damn, he couldn't even spare a thank you? what a prick. if he ever comes back in, you swore you would push him off to some other healer -- you didn't want to have to put up with his shit.

needless to say, that didn't happen. you ended up coming to diluc's aid often after that (much too often, in your opinion). so often in fact, that a few years down the line, a heavily medicated diluc asked you to be his partner. you were livid with him for working himself to the bone again, but damn if the dopey grin he gave you when you accepted wasn't endearing as hell.

(he will deny that ever happened until the day he dies, but you remember. you'll always remember.)

back in the present day, diluc finally sighs through his nose at your angry silence. "honey, i can't figure out what's wrong if you don't tell me." he sounds so patient whenever he speaks to you. there's always unbridled affection that coats his words -- the kind of affection that's reserved for you and only you.

"do you seriously not know why i'm still awake?" you shoot back. you wait for him to figure it out. you've put up with his nonsense for years; if he honest-to-barbatos has no idea why you're upset with him, then you'd have to take drastic measures. "think, diluc. why else would i be awake at ass o'clock in the morning if i'm not working?"

your fiancé has the audacity to turn back to face his work. is he ignoring you? seriously? "diluc," you call. he doesn't answer. you feel your chest burn with white-hot anger.

"i'm a little bit busy right now, darling. i promise i'll finish up soon and come to bed--"

"bullshit!" your voice scares you, coming out much more shrill than you intended, but you've seriously had enough. for years, he would lie to you about his work habits -- about his vigilante work during his down time. for years, you've had to revive diluc again and again, watching him work himself to an early grave. you've brought him back from death once. you don't want to have to do it a second time.

you don't think you'll be able to, anyways. you sure as hell don't want to test that.

diluc jumps at your outburst, swiveling back around with a frown. "must you yell, darling?"

"don't you 'darling' me, diluc ragnvindr," you snarl his name, the pent-up frustration of years finally pouring out of you. "you always, always say that you're going to slow down, going to come to bed, going to rest, but you don't! you never fucking do! how many times are you going to lie to me? i'm tired, diluc!"

he's stunned into silence. you can't stop.

"all i want -- all i have ever wanted was for you to take a goddamn break. is that too much? am i asking for too much? do you want me to care less?" you wince at that last question. it pains you to even think about not caring about him -- not loving him.

but if he doesn't care for himself, there won't be anymore of him for you to love.

diluc opens and closes his mouth in search for an answer, but comes short. he can only say your name. "i... i'm sorry. i'll finish up for you in a moment--"

"how long is a moment supposed to be, diluc?

you caught him. he doesn't have an answer to that. you laugh derisively and turn on your heel, ignoring his calls of your name. "save it. sleep in here for all i care," you speak over your shoulder. you don't look back as you walk back into your shared room. you throw yourself on the bed with a loud groan.

you feel remorse for a moment, but no longer than that. you're right to be so upset with diluc; you've used so much of your energy trying to keep him safe whilst working non-stop at the favonius clinic. you can only take so much. your heart tugs painfully when you think about how much you yelled at him. you've never done that before, but if that's what it takes to get it through his head that you've had enough, then so be it.

you start to doze off about twenty minutes later, but just as your eyes begin to shut for the night, you hear the door to your room open. "adelinde?" you murmur as you sit up and rub your eyes. "is that you?"

"adelinde? that's the first name you call?"

it's diluc.

you must have gasped out loud, because diluc chuckles softly. "lay back down, darling. i'm coming." he says. you watch as diluc quietly prepares himself for bed and slides in beside you, resting his head on the pillow. crimson eyes peer up at you in the darkness. "are you not going to lay down?"

you glare weakly at him. "i dunno, am i?"

diluc sighs. "darling..."

"if you're doing this to appease me, then you may as well have slept in the guest room." you lay down with a huff, turning your back to him. you won't lie -- seeing him here in bed for the first time in three weeks was making your heart soar, but that doesn't erase what's already said and done.

a strong arm snakes around your waist and tugs you back until you hit a solid warmth -- diluc's chest. you can feel him breathing, and that alone brings you a little bit of peace. you don't give in, though. "what do you want?" you grumble.

lips ghost over the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you try your best to pretend that you didn't react.

"you were right," diluc whispers. he's so... close. you squirm in his hold. "i'll come to bed as soon as you do, and i'll stay as long as you want me to. how does that sound?"

"it sounds fine" gets caught in your throat. you don't know if you could believe him; he could be lying. it wouldn't be the first time. but... call it a gut feeling, but you feel like he's telling the truth this time.

and what kind of fiancé would you be if you didn't trust him?

you give up your fight and turn to face him, your brows still drawn. you all but slap one of your hands on his forehead, feeling his temperature. "fine," you murmur, "but tomorrow morning, i'm healing you before you go to work. don't think i didn't notice you stumbling when you changed your clothes."

you can see the pink rising to diluc's cheeks. "ah... alright."

you sigh. you'd never stop healing him -- you'd do it over and over for him in a heartbeat. but if he really, truly meant what he said, then you could stop. diluc was finally taking a step in the right direction, and that's all you wanted.

baby steps.

✧ — 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞 — ✧

"hey, gorgeous. your favorite harbinger is back-- ow-- hey! easy! i'm an injured man, knock it off!"

you don't knock it off. you throw rolls of bandages in tartaglia's direction one after the other, emphasizing every word with each throw.

"why! do you! keep! coming! back here?!" you reach down for another bandage and huff when you see you've thrown all you had in stock. it wasn't much anyways. that thought only makes you angrier. you would have more bandages if a certain someone didn't keep coming back to the infirmary.

you knew what you were getting into when you became the resident healer for the fatui. you're busy as hell every single day, scurrying here and there as legionnaires and agents literally form lines outside your clinic to be healed.

you supposed that it was normal for grunts like them to need constant attention; the tsaritsa's missions were unforgiving, and when word of a meddling blonde traveler spread through zapolyarny palace, you eventually figured out what was causing the daily increase in patients.

you didn't mind, really! especially not since you, as a pyro vision holder, were well respected for your exceptional skills. you were valuable to all of the fatui, and despite the lack of genuine comraderie they had amongst their ranks, you still managed to befriend a few regulars.

you wish you didn't have regulars, but they were kind to you when they were being healed. you're allowed to have a soft spot, okay?

naturally, word got around that a certain pyro healer was sending patients away in top condition; it came as no surprise to you that the harbingers had heard of you. it was bound to happen at some point, so you didn't mind when la signora came to poke around your little space.

but then scaramouche paid you a visit, then dottore. he wasn't all that bad, contrary to what you've heard about him.

no, no; the worst of them was tartaglia.

he was the first (and the only, as you later learned) harbinger to come to you as a patient. you heard rumors of his unhinged personality, so you put your guard up as soon as you made eye contact. the line between you two was clear from the get-go, but tartaglia clearly had other plans.

"they never said our healer was easy on the eyes." he crooned as you patched him up. that flirty tone must work on others very well. you silently admitted that yes, you could understand why. tartaglia wasn't half bad himself, but you weren't the flirty type.

"while i appreciate your compliment, lord tartaglia," you replied in your best professional tone, "i'd rather you not show any sort of favoritism towards me. now, hold still -- this might burn a little."

tartaglia raised his eyebrows, clearly intrigued. you hadn't meant to peak his interest, but here you stood, channeling pyro energy to close his shallow wounds. he didn't flinch as you worked; he must have a high pain tolerance.

"you're the objective type. good to know." he mused when you were done. you hand him a few painkillers; he waved you off, but you insisted, so he took them without much fight. "will i be seeing you around, then?"

you were busy organizing your supply shelves, so you didn't look over your shoulder as you replied with a short "no."

the harbinger chuckled as he walked away. you were cute.

you were very cute to him; in fact, you were so cute that tartaglia found ways to injure himself every day in order to come and see you.

it goes without saying that you've since grown callous to his entire presence.

much like your other patients, you managed to form a bond with tartaglia, albeit a bit unwillingly. he made small talk while you dressed his wounds, asking you about everything from your favorite food to your family. he was nuisance in every sense of the word, but if you were being honest, he was really the highlight of your week.

unfortunately, you fell victim to his charms along the way.

in your defense, tartaglia has these bottomless blue eyes that are way too easy to get lost in. you only realized it when he came in for a black eye; you had no choice but to get a closer look, and only when he mentioned that you were quiet for too long did you realize that you were screwed. luckily for you though, he fell for you in return and confessed to you as you were cleaning up for the day.

it's a little thrilling, no? to be in a secret relationship with one of the most powerful men in snezhnaya. (it's not totally a secret, but you'd like to think it is.)

but why would you be throwing bandages at him? because you're sick of seeing him hurt all the time.

you're well aware that tartaglia has a high pain tolerance. he's supposed to have one -- it's kind of in the fine print of being a harbinger. but just because he can handle it doesn't mean you like it. most of the time he sees you in the clinic, he's got some surface wound that needs nothing more than a bandage, but even those leave scars.

high pain tolerance or not, you know it hurts him. he's too careless with himself, and you can't stand it. some days, he comes in genuinely needing help.

like today, for example. he may be laughing at you for throwing all those bandages, but you can see the sag in his shoulders, the way he's bracing himself on the wall, and oh archons, he's passing out--

tartaglia drops to one knee with a soft grunt. he's clearly trying to fight whatever it is that's ailing him, but it'll be a cold day in hell (and an even colder day in snezhnaya, if that was even possible) before you let him try to charm his way out of proper care. you rush to his side and help him over to the bed, where you push him down. it should've taken more effort on your part to knock him over, but he pretty much collapses with the gentlest touch.

"look at you," he pretty much wheezes, "got me falling for you all over again."

"shut up." you hiss. you quickly locate everything you might need before grabbing your clipboard and a pen. "you know the drill, tartaglia; shirt off."

your boyfriend wiggles his eyebrows at you. "if you want me naked, you're gonna have to wait until we're off the clock, sweetheart."

that's his way of saying he can't. you roll your eyes and help him out of his shirt before taking notes on his heart rate, blood pressure, and all the other essentials. and then he tells you the last time he ate and slept for longer than four hours.

"damn you, ajax, you can't keep doing this!" you throw your clipboard aside as you channel pyro energy to your palms. your vision, full of boundless energy, is capable of transferring energy from one source to another. you give tartaglia as much as you can without overwhelming him before sitting at the bedside. "i told you to give it a rest -- why won't you listen?"

tartaglia doesn't meet your eyes. it's that vacant expression again. "i have a job to do, you know that."

"you can't do that job if you're dead, ajax."

"i won't die, though." he looks at you blankly, but you can see the irritation building. "that's your problem; you seem to take me for some weakling. i'm fine, i--"

you slap his shoulder with all your strength. tartaglia winces, and neither of you say anything. you shouldn't be able to make him flinch at all, and yet here he is, rolling his shoulder back to ease the sting.

"fine? the ajax i know would've laughed at me for doing that."

tartaglia -- no, ajax -- sighs. he's a smart man; he knows when he's beat. "fine, doc. what's your recommendation?"

you close your eyes for a moment. he was clearly about to chew you out for underestimating him, but that was going to be a conversation for another day. for now, he needed your help, and you were going to do your best.

when you finish all your suggestions and stand to grab some more supplies, ajax raises an eyebrow at you. "what?" you ask. "did i miss something?"

ajax shakes his head. "no, it's just... you're good at your job." he drops his chin into his palm as he examines you. now that he's feeling better, he's back on his usual shit, ocean blue eyes raking your figure. "it's kinda hot, actually."

you flush against your will and throw a pill bottle at his head, which he catches with a laugh. "what, i can't admire you at work?"

"you can admire me all you want when i'm not working, okay?

another chuckle, but deeper this time. "is that a promise?"

you don't know how you put up with this man. "if it means you'll sleep for now, then yes."

there's some shuffling. you watch as ajax quickly makes himself comfortable. you can't help but laugh. at least he's resting. "i'm not gonna sleep, though!" he says from under the blankets.

he does. he's out after five minutes.

✧ hi hi anon! it probably wasn't exactly what you were looking for, but i hope it's still to your liking!

[knylinphd]

Would it be OK to request hcs of Sanemi, Inosuke, Giyuu, and Shinobu :> the whole theme is that it's winter and the reader decides to do all kinds of things to warm them up after they came back from the snow outside. Bring them warm baths, food, blankets, lend them their clothes, cuddle o///O and all that cute stuff. Maybe they even get sick and the reader has to take care of them till they get better ^////^

Taking care of them when they’re sick | Headcanons

gender neutral

-> As they stayed outside in the snow for too long, they need their S/O to take care of them now that they’re sick.

-> Giyuu Tomioka, Inosuke Hashibira, Shinobu Kocho, Sanemi Shinazugawa.

Giyuu Tomioka

You were very excited when you saw Giyuu walking back to your cottage. He had been wandering in the snow for so long, due to a mission, you were almost worried he died.

He didn’t seem to have been hurt during the mission, however you felt like he was pale. « Hurry up, get in ! You probably caught a cold ! » you said. He tried to tell you he was okay before even walking in, but you shushed him.

He couldn’t deny that when he was finally inside, it was the first time in days that he felt warmth. You immediately noticed how he shivered when he took off his wet shoes and haori, so you quickly ran a hot bath for him.

He kept telling you that he was okay, that he didn’t have anything. But you didn’t care. As soon as the bath was ready, you pushed him in and went to the kitchen to prepare a very warm meal.

When you went back to the bathroom, you could tell that he indeed was sick, but still, was enjoying the hot water. « Thank you, Y/N. You didn’t have to. » You rolled your eyes ; of course you had to !

« You’re my husband. Obviously I’m going to help you. I’d rather have you sick than dead, though. » He smiled a bit at your sentence, and offered you to get in the bath, if dinner was ready. « Sure, but not for too long, the food’s gonna get cold. »

Obviously, Giyuu didn’t care. He didn’t kiss you as he didn’t want you to get sick as well ; implicitly admitting that he did feel bad. Yet, he pulled you against his chest, holding you from behind, enjoying a bit of your warmth as well.

Inosuke Hashibira

« I can’t believe you went naked like that on your mission ! Can’t you see all the snow ?! » you groaned. « UH ?! I’ve been wearing those clothes for winter during all these years ! What’s your problem ?! »

You pulled him inside and removed his mask to feel his temperature. Obviously, his forehead was burning. You could also tell that he wanted to sneeze but prevented himself from doing so to prove you wrong, as he made weird faces.

And then, you told him the bad news. « Inosuke my dear, you’re going to take a bath. » Of course, he immediately groaned. But one thing that worked with Inosuke was rewards. « I won’t be able to cuddle with you if you don’t take a bath. »

He rolled his eyes and acted annoyed, but you knew he liked those cuddles. Thus, he indeed went to take a bath. During this time, you prepared very hot food and some medicine for him.

He ate all of your dinner and didn’t even notice the medicine inside the food ! He really acts like a kid sometimes, but especially so when he’s sick. As he yawned almost immediately, you accompanied him to your bed to give him his reward.

As he was laying on your chest, you played with his hair ; it was one of his favorite things ever. « I’m shocked you didn’t give me medicine. » he said. He raised his head when he heard you snort.

« I’ve hidden it in your food. You ate it all. Didn’t even notice it ! » you explained, giggling. « UH ?! I can’t believe you tricked me like that ! » He seemed to be angry for real, but only a little kiss on his forehead made him forget about it all and lay his head against you again.

Shinobu Kocho

« (Y/N) ! I’m back ! » When Shinobu saw you running outside the moment she said it, she felt bad. « Oh, I’m sorry. You were worried. » You frowned a bit. « Of course I was ! But now I’m worried that you’re sick. » you replied, taking her hand to get her inside.

You immediately checked her temperature and decided to run her a bath. « Take off those wet and cold clothes, and go in the bathroom. » She was amused by your demeanor, but she knew that she couldn’t try to argue with you at that moment.

When she went in her bath, you prepared her medicine. « Remember last time I was sick ? » you asked, making her arched an eyebrow. You started to imitate her voice. « Oh, (Y/N), you have to take your medicine ! »

She just relaxed in her bath. She knew you seemed angry, but that was your reaction whenever you were worried. She knew you weren’t mad at her for real. « How are you going to feel better if you don’t take it, uh ? Don’t make me force feed you ! » You kept going.

« You impersonate me very well, (Y/N) ! Did you train ? » You looked at her and actually giggled. You started to realize that there was nothing to be worried about ; a little cold was easy to get rid of. And Shinobu was the type of person to easily take her medicine.

After taking care of her medicine, you prepared her one of her favorite meals ; you had bought the ingredients some days prior, waiting for her arrival. As soon as she smelled it, she rushed to get out of the bathroom, only dressed in her robe.

« You should put more warm clothes on ! » you said, setting on the table. « Probably, but I smelled the food. And I’m going to eat it right now, it’s going to be burning in my stomach, it’ll warm me up ! » she replied, all excited. You giggled, happy that she was back.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

You weren’t often mad, even though to be someone to seduce Sanemi, you have to be hot-headed. But right now, you were, and he had noticed it ; he probably shouldn’t have wandered for so long in the snow without a shirt under his haori.

« And you got new scars I guess ? They won’t heal well and are gonna hurt even more ! » You scolded him, running him a bath. He was very excited to get in, already taking off this cold and wet clothes ; he could see the steam from where he was.

For once, he decided not to talk back. He had worried you ; he had been gone for more than a week in the snow without any news ! He only kissed your forehead before getting in the water. « You shouldn’t worry that much. »

He offered you to get in the bath with him, but you agreed only if he took his medicine. Indeed, you had to bargain with him, and he especially didn’t like the taste of medicine. « Do I really have to take it now ? » he asked.

« You have to take it before eating. And I’ll cook ohagi, alright ? » you asked, seeming to have calmed down a bit. He nodded, and even though he made an ugly face while tasting the medicine, he didn’t complain more. Thus, you got in the bath with him.

« You can’t go back on a mission now, y’know. You’ve probably caught a cold. » He blinked a few times. « Why did you give me medicine if you weren’t sure ? » he asked, frowning. « It’s better to prevent it. If tomorrow you have nothing, then you won’t take more medicine. »

As you traced one of his new scar, Sanemi felt bad. You had probably worried so much, and many times he didn’t seem grateful about it. « Thank you for taking care of me. » You turned, your eyes a bit wide at his sentence. « Of course ! We have to take care of each other, Nemi ! » And he smiled.

[marauderundercover]

Crashed Dates (Day 2: Scarecrow)

Marinette grins at her boyfriend, swinging their intertwined hands back and forth as they walk around the pumpkin farm. It was so nice, finally being able to go on cute dates like this. They’d first started dating while he was in Paris on business, around a year ago. Sure, he’d made trips to Paris and she’d made a few to Metropolis, but it was different now that she had moved to Gotham. Now they were able to go on random, unplanned dates, instead of dates that had been planned for weeks. He was definitely worried when she first told him she was moving to Gotham, but she had reassured him that it would be fine. (Not that she had a choice in the matter, Tikki had informed her on her last trip to Metropolis that Gotham was sick, that it was calling out for help and that as the Guardian, it was her job to help it). Gotham was….interesting, but she’d settled in just fine in the two weeks she’d been there.

And so, when he had called her out of the blue to tell her he found a place he thought she’d love, she made sure she had enough layers and jumped at the chance for a day with him. So far, the day had been absolutely perfect. They’d drank hot apple cider, ate warm donuts, taken a trip around the farm on the hayride- everything was great. But for some reason, her amazingly stubborn boyfriend didn’t want to go into the corn maze. 

“Please! You’ll be my favorite person in the whole world.” She begs again, her grin quickly switching into a pout. She keeps pouting, leaning against his arm, until he sighs.

“Fine, we can do the maze.” He says and she cheers, standing on her toes and tugging him down slightly to give him a quick kiss. 

“You are the best!” She says, over enunciating every word. He just grins, giving her another soft kiss. 

“If we get lost, I’m calling the Demon Spawn to come get us out. Pretty sure he has a tracker on my phone.” Jason says, letting her tug him along towards the maze. She just rolls her eyes, grinning. 

“You know you’re secretly touched that he cares enough to track you.” She teases as they near the entrance of the maze.

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbles, glaring at the scarecrow situated at the entrance of the maze. Marinette raises an eyebrow. 

“You have a problem with men made of straw?” She asks, legitimately confused by his reaction. 

“Geeze M, I knew you were new to Gotham but I forget how new.” He says, pulling her closer. She melts into him, still confused by his reaction, but happy to be close. As they walk through the maze, frustratingly running into deadends, Jason explains Scarecrow. Marinette decides that he’s number two on the list of villains she never wants to meet. Joker is number one. (Joker is also number one on the list of villains she wants to meet, but that’s because she’s always wondered what it would look like to cataclysm a psychotic clown). She’s just about to suggest they call Damian and utilize the tracker that was, undoubtedly on Jason’s phone, when the screaming begins. 

“There isn’t a haunted house here, is there.” Marinette says, her face pale. She wasn’t ready to be a hero again. She’d only defeated Hawkmoth a year ago. Just before meeting Jason. She didn’t want that part of her life again, not now. 

“No, no there’s not.” Jason says, eyes glancing around wildly. Marinette’s heart breaks at the panic on his face. She knew that, despite his tough guy appearance, he struggled. A lot. He had nightmares, constantly, mostly of the time Joker had kidnapped him (hence the whole, cataclysm Joker thing). Pushing down her own fear and doubt, she tightens her grip on his hand and squares her shoulders. 

“Come on.” She instructs, tugging him behind her as she darts through the maze, determined to get out. She stumbles over a rock and lets go of Jason’s hand in time for her to fall into a larger clearing. She curses as she falls, her palms stinging. 

“What have we here?” A voice says. Marinette sits up, staring up at a man in a scarecrow costume and suddenly, Jason’s fear, or rather, dislike, of scarecrows makes more sense. So much more sense. She glances around and lets out a sigh of relief. She’d let go of Jason quick enough. He wasn’t caught up in this. Hopefully, he could call his father. She wasn’t sure if the rumors about Bruce Wayne and Batman dating were true, but Batman was always quick to interfere if it was a Wayne or Wayne adjacent involved. 

“A girl who’s a little pissed that you crashed her date.” She retorts, standing up and brushing her stinging palms off on her jeans. She’d have to get the blood out later, which would be a pain. Better than having the blood on her palms mix with the dirt that also now covered her hands. 

“You’re either very brave or very stupid, little girl. Let’s see how you deal with my newest strain of fear toxin.” He says, and she lunges towards the man, not willing to go down without a fight. Almost immediately, a sharp pinch on her neck has her stumbling back away from the man as she tries to take in her new surroundings. 

She was back in Paris, but it wasn’t the Paris she had left. The city that was healing. Instead this Paris was underwater. Buildings were toppled over, and the moon was in pieces in the sky. She was back there. A place she hadn’t seen in person since she was fourteen, a place that had haunted her nightmares for ten years. She inhales sharply when she sees him. Chat Blanc. But instead of fear, she’s just angry. This isn’t real. It can’t be. Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir. And Adrien was….turning, she realizes that she can almost see him. Out of the corner of her eye, she can almost see Scarecrow, watching her. Waiting for her to react. Anger coursing through her, she charges the man, tackling him all the way to the ground. She pulls back her fist and punches him, repeatedly. 

“How dare you! How dare you use his face like that! You son of a bitch!” She screams as she hits, the roaring in her ears blocking out all other sounds. She keeps her focus on feeling the man she’s hitting, because the second she lets her focus wander, she gets sucked into her surroundings again. The way the sky just looks wrong. The odd haze over everything. And now, the corpses floating in the water closest to her. Adrien. Maman. Papa. She’s not scared, she’s pissed. Sure, those were her biggest fears and that’s definitely why she was seeing them all like that, but she’d already seen it. She’s lived it. They were gone, not coming back. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to fall down and break about it. Not when some asshole with fear toxin was running around randomly injecting people. Suddenly, something is wrapped around her and she’s pulled up. She kicks frantically, trying to get out of the steel grip she’s trapped in. She had to- what did she have to do? Another sharp pinch in her neck makes her eyes droop sleepily. She struggles again, barely able to hear the voice calling her name as she succumbs to the darkness.

---

Jason Todd feels like a major prick. He watched his girlfriend trip and instead of helping her up, he uses it as a distraction to try and call B. How the fuck was he supposed to know she tripped right into the Scarecrow? He’s cursing himself mentally as he rushes towards the ambulance. Replacement had texted him. 

Marinette was injected. At ambulances near front of farm

And Jason felt like shit. She’d never forgive him, not that he deserved it. He’d left her with one of Gotham’s biggest villains. His heart sinks when he sees the blood on her, and the oxygen mask attached to her face. Fuck. He’s almost to her, when one of the asshole cops stops him. 

“Excuse me, sir, you can’t go over there.” He says and Jason scowls. 

“Like hell I can’t. She’s my girlfriend, let me through.” He says, and the man shakes his head. 

“Family only.” He states. Jason’s about to argue, when a hand lands on his shoulder. 

“I still need to get a statement from Mr. Todd, if you’ll excuse us.” Replacement says, leading him away from the cop. 

“I left her.” He says, the second they’re far enough away. Tim frowns.

“What do you-”

“I mean, I left her. She tripped and instead of checking on her, I was a complete and total asshole and left her so I could call B to get his ass over here and solve the goddamn problem.” Jason says, feeling like even more of an asshole now that he’s said it out loud. 

“Did you see Scarecrow?” Replacement asks. Jason scoffs. 

“Of course not! You really think I would’ve left if I had?” He asks with a glare. 

“No, I don’t. So stop blaming yourself. I literally peeled her off of Scarecrow, she was beating the crap out of him. She’s gonna be tired and scared and confused when she wakes up. Just be there-”

“Jason!” Her terrified voice echoes out and Jason turns, sprinting for the cot he’d seen her on a minute ago. She had ripped the oxygen mask off her face and was looking around while arguing with the paramedic. 

“Ma’am please-” “Marinette!” Jason calls, and her face relaxes as she leaps off the cot and launches herself into his arms. He holds her as she shakes, sobs wracking her body. 

“I saw them.” She mumbles once she calms down a little. He frowns. 

“Saw who?” He asks. 

“My parents. Adrien. Their bodies.” She says, and suddenly, Jason has another name to add to his kill list. Being a complete asshole to all of Gotham, sure. Making his girlfriend see the bodies of those she’d lost? Nope. Now the bastard better hope he didn’t meet Red Hood in an alley. 

“God, Mari, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry I left.” He apologizes, his heart aching when she pushes him away. She frowns up at him and he winces, certain she’s about to break up with him. 

“Left?” She asks and he nods. 

“When you tripped, I swear, I didn’t know Scarecrow was there.” He says. 

“But you got Batman here.” She says and he jerks back. How the hell had she figured it out? When did she- “I know Bruce said he isn’t dating Batman, but honestly, I think he’s just in denial.” She adds. 

“I- what?” 

“Batman always comes when anyone in the Wayne family is in danger. Like, so quickly. And I know that Bruce says it’s just a bunch of rumors, like the whole ‘the butts match’ thing? But I also think that Batman is head over heels for Bruce, and your dad is just kinda clueless.” She rambles. Jason just laughs before pulling her into a deep kiss. She was okay. They were okay. He pulls back and grins at her, until he notices the blood again. 

“Shit, that’s a lot of blood.” He says, taking her hand in his to try and find the source. He glances at her face and raises an eyebrow at the blush that had taken over her face. 

“Oh, um, it’s not mine.” She mumbles. 

“Then who-” “Apparently I beat the hell out of Scarecrow. In my defense, that fear toxin sucked. And I was kinda pissed.” She says, frowning down at the blood on her hands. Jason takes one of his hands and gently tilts her chin up so that she’s looking at him again. He grins at her, giving her a short, soft kiss before pulling back. 

“I love you.” He says, and if the kiss she gave him in return meant anything, she felt the same way.

Next

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[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[witchlyboo]

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

[manwhoregillion]

Technoblade Never Dies

C!Technoblade x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k words

Warnings: Angst, death, grief, some mentions of blood, bittersweet ending

Pronouns used: He/They

Thank you to @suurrii for beta reading this!

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

Death is a funny thing. To some it is merely the end of a cycle, the wheel forever turning through its phases. To others it’s the ultimate failure, a reminder of just how much one has lost in the battle. There is a time in everyone’s life where they must meet eyes with Death herself, even those who swear they’re immortal kick the bucket at some point. The Blood God swore he wouldn’t die. He couldn’t be killed if he was more powerful than all his opponents. However, he never considered that everyone would die around him. He swore to himself that he would never become close to anyone, as to not suffer the hurt that comes with losing them. That was, until he met the Angel of Death, a man with his same goal to live forever. The two spent their lives together, finally having someone to depend on for the rest of their never-ending lives. Technoblade swore that he would never let anyone else in, until he met (Y/N). (Y/N) was not like the other two, a mere mortal only living to eventually die. A tiny blip in the ever-spinning wheel of time. Philza immediately warmed up to the mortal when they begged for a place to spend the night, desperate to get out of the snowstorm. They were only supposed to stay one night. He lived with the immortals for almost 10 years.

Technoblade didn’t let himself warm up to (Y/N), but every little thing they did made Technoblade’s face heat up and his stomach fill with butterflies. Technoblade had never fallen for anyone the way he fell for (Y/N). It took years for the poor man to let his heart open to (Y/N) but when he did everything seemed to fall into place. Technoblade knew (Y/N) was going to die long before his time came, but for the moment he was happy. That moment ended far too quickly for his liking.

~*~

(Y/N) opened his eyes, a searing white light etched into his vision. How had they ended up here? All he could remember was seeing someone running towards him before he closed his eyes. Who was that man? He seemed worried about something. There was another person there. A winged man. (Y/N) knew he should remember these men, but everything was too blurry to think properly. (Y/N) closed his eyes trying one more time to remember why these men were so important. Nothing. When they opened their eyes again, he saw a woman standing before him. Her presence was calming, a soothing blanket that enveloped (Y/N)’s senses. (Y/N) almost forgot about his dilemma from just moments before.

“Oh no my dear, it’s not your time yet” she frowned, “Techno and Phil must be worried sick about you.”

At the mention of their names, everything came rushing back. (Y/N) felt as if their brain was banging across the sides of his skull. How could he let himself forget them? They were the most important people in his life, and he just forgot them.

“I’m sure that there’s something I can do to get you back if you just give me some ti-” the Goddess of Death’s words were cut off by the sounds of a train coming from the distance. She sighed, realising that (Y/N)’s fate had been decided for them a long time ago. There really was nothing she could do. The train appeared before them and out stepped Dream. (Y/N) was excited at the sight of a familiar face, until they saw the grimace that adorned the Goddess of Death.

“Kristen,”

“Dream,”

“I thank you for your hard work, but I can take it from here,” (Y/N) swore he could hear the smile in his voice behind that mask. Technoblade was friends with Dream, so (Y/N) was sure that they could trust him. Everything was going to be just fine. Kristen shook her head looking at (Y/N) one last time.

“You’ll see him again soon my dear, I promise,” Kristen turned and walked away, leaving Dream alone with (Y/N). Dream stepped to the side, allowing (Y/N) to step onto the train.

“Where are you taking me?” (Y/N) felt the train jolt before pulling out from the station as he took his seat.

“You’ll see soon enough,”

No more words were shared between the two as the train took them to their destination. (Y/N) spent the train ride trying to remember the events before he got here. He remembered the war and Technoblade asking them not to get involved. They did anyway. Dream was there, and so was Philza. (Y/N) was fighting someone, he couldn’t remember who. Flashes of red shirts and piercing blue eyes danced across his mind’s eye as he tried to recall what had happened. Things were still far too blurry to be sure. They were yelling something about getting back at Technoblade, before plunging their blade into his chest. He was left bleeding out on the floor as Techno and Phil ran towards him, screaming. He knew he shouldn’t close their eyes, but the pull of the void drew them ever closer. He was dead.

Before (Y/N) got the chance to think on his new discovery the train stopped, the door sliding open.

“Am I dead?” (Y/N) asked, looking up at Dream. (Y/N) frowned as Dream started laughing. What was so funny about this?

“You’ve only just realised? Yes, you’re fucking dead idiot, now get off my train,”

(Y/N) went to ask one more question before Dream sent them tumbling into the snow. (Y/N) looked around to see the tundra where he lived with Techno and Phil, yet the houses were gone. He turned around to talk to Dream, but the train had disappeared. Was he stuck here forever?

~*~

Technoblade was used to the screams. It took a while, but after fighting in countless wars since what was essentially the beginning of time, the screaming became a part of his every waking moment. It was almost comforting, the cries of those passed on. All the voices melded together, except one. One that stood out among the others. (Y/N). At first, Techno ignored it. There was no way that he would let his beloved get hurt. But then their screams cursed his ears again and he knew that something was wrong. He had let his dear (Y/N) get hurt. They were going to die, and it was his fault. The voices were screaming, not even words anymore, just a blend of anger and agony that filled his head until it was overflowing. He couldn’t hear Philza’s voice, but he took off behind him, hoping he knew where to find his lover before with was too late.

When (Y/N)’s voice died down Techno had a fleeting hope that maybe they were okay, that maybe (Y/N) had fought their way out. Techno caught a glimpse of their near lifeless body, laying before him, Tommy hunched over their figure. Tommy glanced up at Technoblade, panic flashing behind his eyes.

“Tech- “

He didn’t let a word out of Tommy’s mouth before driving his sword through his side. Not fatal, giving Tommy the chance to leave Techno alone to mourn what had been so forcefully taken from him.

“Techno?” (Y/N) started lifting themself off the ground to meet the eyes of their lover before being softly pulled into his lap.

“Sh, it's ok (Y/N) I’m here,” Techno tried not to let his voice waver, failing miserably.

(Y/N) tried to speak more but was interrupted when they started to cough up blood. Instead, they decided to bury their head into Techno’s shoulder, conveying the same message. They cried no tears. They had no reason to. Techno wept enough tears for the both of them. He knew that this would happen, but not so soon. After thousands of years of losing everyone he had ever loved, never once had he felt a need to cry for them. Death comes and goes, never slowing or moving backwards. Constant and unforgiving. He was used to it, yet there was something special about (Y/N). He looked back down at their face, staring into the lifeless eyes that once held so much joy and love. Technoblade won every battle he had fought, but his first loss would always be his worst.

~*~

The passage of time never slows for those who morn. Lucky for Technoblade he had all the time in the world. Centuries of fighting more battles and wars but it was never the same. He watched thousands more lose their lives around him, but no pain even came close to matching how he felt at the death of his dear (Y/N). There was nothing left for him. No one left for him.

He found himself at (Y/N)’s grave again. Still in the tundra they once called home together. He could never bring himself to leave even when everyone left around him. The grave was nothing special, a few planks of wood he had on hand with their name carved across one of them. He replaced the flowers every day, knowing his (Y/N) would be proud of him for keeping their flower garden growing after all these years. Techno took a seat in front of the grave, dipping his head down. He could feel them close to him. Watching over him after all these years. He started to feel tired. An exhaustion he had never felt before. He rested against the grave softly, feeling wearier by the second. Techno felt as if this was a fitting end to his life. Not in the heat of battle or surrounded by loved ones. Alone, but at peace. He let his eyes close, seeing the faint outline of his lover under his eyelids. He would be with them soon. As he let himself slip from this world, he heard the faintest sounds of a train coming from the distance.

~*~

(Y/N) had spent so much time in this godforsaken place. They had lost count of just how many years he had spent alone. There was nothing, no one. Just him alone with his thoughts. Sometimes he heard Techno’s cries, learning later that they could only hear him when Techno visited their grave. Either he visited less and less or simply stopped crying for them. (Y/N) hoped for the second one, they didn’t want him to mourn forever. He still had so much life to live. They tried running. They ran and ran and ran but they always found themself right back here. Stuck with the reminders of the life they had to leave behind. He kept their head in between their knees, knowing that there was nothing new for them to see. There never was. However, there seemed to be something today. At the faintest sound of a train in the distance, they managed to lift their head from its resting place. In front of them was the train that had brought them here all those years ago. Why was he here? To torment them. To remind them that he would always be stuck here alone. Lost in his thoughts, (Y/N) almost missed the sound of his name coming from a familiar voice, Technoblade. He looked up to see their lover standing before them. Techno dropped to his knees and took (Y/N) into an embrace. They stayed there for many moments. No words were needed, they knew exactly what the other was thinking.

“Hurry up Techno I can’t keep you here for long,” (Y/N) looked up to meet eyes with Dreams horrid mask.

They broke themselves from Techno to look him in the eyes. Techno almost looked away when he saw the pain his lovers’ eyes held.

“You’re not staying?”

“I tried, I really did. I’m lucky to even be here for a bit. I just knew I needed to see you,” They chuckled, a bittersweet melody, as Techno rested his forehead against (Y/N), half as an excuse to not have to stare into their eyes any longer.

There were no more words shared between the two. There was nothing left to say. They just basked in each other’s warmth until Dream pulled Techno away and back onto the train. (Y/N) liked to imagine that he felt bad for the couple, though they knew he lacked that kind of empathy. Techno and (Y/N) shared one last smile, a last farewell as the sliding train doors sealed them apart once more. In the blink of an eye, it was gone. He was gone. Though (Y/N) didn’t feel bad. They couldn’t feel bad, or they would until the end of time. No, they felt a sense of peace, knowing that their dear Techno would be ok. Everything falls into place even after it seems so wrong.

[tenthgrove]

Can I request la squadra discovering their Fem!Teammate (who's like in her early 30s) is actually a mother, who joined Passione to pay for her 5 y.o daughter's hospital expenses, and she sometimes secretly goes to visit her and spend time with her.

Mother Mother

La Squadra x Reader, Platonic, SFW

Risotto has always kept an eye on his squadmates. It’s not that he would ever entertain the thought of one of them betraying him, even a relatively new member such as yourself. It’s just that with La Squadra’s status in Passione, he’s always feared one of you being used against him against your will.

It’s for this reason that Risotto became concerned by your twice monthly trips away from the base. Risotto doesn’t usually police his underlings’ activities, but the solemn look on your face each time you leave is cause for deep concern. Perhaps if you weren’t so secretive about your reasons, he wouldn’t have to go to the lengths of spying on you.

Risotto catches sight of your car as you pull into the hospital parking lot. There’s a definite weariness about you as you cross quickly towards the entrance. Risotto activates his invisibility and follows.

As you speak with the receptionist, Risotto is fixed on which department you will turn to. Are you sick and hiding it? Pregnant? But then, you surprise him. You turn to the children’s ward.

Risotto follows you past white corridors and waiting rooms. The nurses address you by name, he notices. It seems you’re a regular visitor. Finally, you arrive in a large ward of lonely pods. In each one lies a sick or injured child. He cannot ignore the fact that the one you head towards looks exactly like you.

As you caress the little girl’s cheek, Risotto comes to realise what’s been happening with you all these months. These trips, this sorrow, it was all for your child. A child Risotto didn’t even know you had.

Risotto leaves you be as you talk with your daughter. He feels guilty, undeserving of being present in this conversation. He’d always wondered how someone like you ended up in such a foul business as his, but if it’s really all for the sake of your daughter he doesn’t know if he can bare to keep ordering you on such dangerous tasks.

He can’t cut you out either, that could be detrimental for your sick offspring.

::::::::::::

Risotto goes home and seeks out Melone. It really ought to show the desperation of the situation he’s in that he’d fall on Melone for advice, but the strange man is the only person he can think of who might possibly guide his conscience on such a matter.

“Melone, a word please,” Risotto demands, swinging open the door of the other man’s bedroom. Melone hums and sits up from his nap, pulling off his night-mask to rub his eyes.

“If this is about the vibrator, I swear I didn’t mean to have it delivered here.”

“I- what- no. It isn’t about anything like that. I need your advice,” Risotto explains. Melone taps his fingers excitedly and crosses his legs.

“Oh, by all means go on then!”

“If, hypothetically, a person like us were to have… unavoidable other commitments, how would you say it should be tackled?” Risotto asks.

“Clarify.”

“Family commitments. Children, to be precise,” Risotto elaborates. Melone tilts his head.

“Capo, did you knock someone up?”

“No! Don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t done anything of the sort!” Risotto insists. “Alright I’ll clarify some more. How do you think I, as this team’s leader, should support such a person?”

“…Oh, I understand,” Melone assures him. “It’s (y/n) who’s pregnant, isn’t it?”

“I… forget it. (Y/n) isn’t pregnant you fool. I don’t know why I bothered with you,” Risotto laments, shutting the door.

Melone, meanwhile, is unconvinced. Risotto’s defensive behaviour suggests to him his theory regarding your pregnancy may be right after all. This isn’t something he can leave alone.

Melone’s foremost concern is your wellbeing. You’re his friend, and he wants to make sure that your parenthood (should you choose to go through with it) is as easy for you as possible. There’s one person in particular who comes to mind when it comes to raising children in the mob.

::::::::::::

“Prosciutto!” Melone calls, entering the second-in-command’s bedroom as he enjoys a cigarette out his open window.

“What do you want, and what did I tell you about barging in?”

“Please Prosciutto? This is important,” Melone begs. Prosciutto turns around.

“Alright, get it over with.”

“Didn’t you say once that you raised Pesci? I’m curious how it was,” Melone enquires.

“I hardly raised him,” Prosciutto rolls his eyes. “His mother was a good woman, and perfectly capable of raising him herself, money aside. My role was mostly as a financial supporter and an occasional babysitter when my step-mother needed a day off.”

“Oh, I see. But how was it with Passione? How did you balance your commitments between them and family?”

“I’m not a fan of this line of questioning, Melone, but I’ll indulge you. It was hard, very hard. They made me join when Pesci was 6 and back even then they constantly held his life over my head. I couldn’t spend too much time with him for fear of seeming disloyal, but at the same time I feared what would happen if I turned my back too long.”

“Christ,” Melone exclaims. “That’s rough. I never knew it was that bad for you.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is all for now?” Prosciutto asks, cocking an eyebrow. Melone swallows.

“Well… I think (y/n) might be pregnant.”

“…What?!”

::::::::::::

“So that’s why we’re suspicious,” Prosciutto finishes. Formaggio stares at them wide-eyed.

“Fucking hell. I knew something was up, but pregnancy?” he exclaims.

“It’s serious, we know,” Melone affirms. “Risotto isn’t letting up so we need you to help us be certain. I’ve got all your DNA on record-”

“Creepy.”

“Regardless, I’ve got hers up on the tracker now, and I need you to take Baby Face and follow the dot until you find its location. Baby Face doesn’t show place names. If you’re spotted, you can shrink down, so it’s better you go than us. Got it?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll go,” Formaggio agrees, picking up the laptop and standing. “I’ll ring if I find anything.”

::::::::::::

Sure enough, 30 minutes later, Formaggio finds something. A hospital to be precise. He looks down at his screen, and back at the hospital. Nope, everything still checks out. There is no possible way the dot could be anywhere other than inside that building when it’s that close. You’re in there. You are in the hospital. Pregnant, near certainly.

Formaggio’s had enough shocks for one day.

Turning tail, Formaggio half-runs back down the pavement towards the base. He fumbles for his phone and calls Prosciutto. No answer. Thinking fast (but not well) he hits the next number in the list. Illuso’s.

“Illuso hi. It’s Formaggio! She’s definitely at the hospital like we thought!”

“…Are you high?”

“Oh fuck, did you not know? (Y/n)’s pregnant and Mel just found out!” Formaggio fills him in. There’s a long pause.

“Holy fucking shit! Get back here now and tell me more!”

::::::::::::

Shortly after this, the sitting room of the La Squadra base finds itself crowded with Melone, Prosciutto, Formaggio and Illuso all in frenzied discussion.

“This is insane. We can’t have a baby! In the hitman squad!” Illuso decries.

“We’re not recruiting the kid!” Melone reminds him.

“That’s not the point!” Prosciutto protests. Formaggio puts his hands up in a show of peace

“Okay okay can everyone please-”

“I AM CALM!”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS SHOUTING ABOUT?!” A voice calls. It’s Ghiaccio, standing in the hallway with Pesci at his side. The four men in the lounge look between each other nervously. Formaggio steps forwards.

“Ghiaccio, Pesci… let me fill you in on some things.”

::::::::::::

“RISOTTO WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU TELL US ABOUT THIS SOONER!”

Risotto Nero has seen a lot in his days, but never before has he had his office door kicked down by one of his own teammates, while in mid-conversation with two others.

“…Ghiaccio I beg your pardon.”

“(Y/n) was pregnant and you didn’t tell us about it?” Pesci says. “I was on a mission with her just last night! I could have done more to protect her if I’d known!”

“Risotto, I know you like to respect our privacy, but this is serious! If (y/n) is going to have this child then we need to have discussions about how it’s going to be feasible now. As a team,” Prosciutto argues. Risotto blinks.

“Capo, what on earth is going on?” Sorbet asks from by the window. Gelato, having clung onto him since the door fell, continues to look at the crowd in the doorway like… well, like they just busted the office door down.

Risotto takes a sip of his coffee, and sighs.

“I think you all may be under a severe misapprehension.”

::::::::::::

You get back to the base around 4pm, severely exhausted both emotionally and physically. Your daughter is stable, you’re assured, and clearly in better spirits than your last visit. With continued treatment, the doctor sees her out of the hospital and living comfortably with only minor supports within the year. But the bill to get her to that point will not be cheap. You honestly don’t know how you’ll manage it.

As you hang up your coat you are met with visitors. Sorbet and Gelato would like to speak with you, it seems.

“We’re glad to see you’re back. Could you follow us please? It won’t take a minute,” Gelato requests.

“Okay?” you agree, following them into the sitting room. Your entire team is present in dead silence, with Risotto at the helm in his usual chair. He is looking grave. This can’t be good.

Risotto gestures for you to sit down. You comply.

“(Y/n),” he begins. “We know about your daughter.”

Everything seems to go still. You cannot help it as tears well in your eyes. Before you know, you are crying in front of your teammates.

“We are willing to give some help,” Risotto announces. You look up from your tears. Did he just…

“We did some maths and we calculated that if we all pool together, we can pay half your daughter’s monthly bill every month for the immediate future, without any major changes to our lifestyle,” Sorbet announces. “We’re all happy to do that,” he adds, to a chorus of nods around the room.

“Additionally, we can look into getting her case transferred to a doctor on Passione’s payroll. It will be the same quality care or higher, and at a significant discount,” Melone suggests. Oh fuck, why didn’t you ever think of that?

“You would… you would all really do that for me?” you sob.

“And if it still isn’t enough, we’ll find a way. You can rely on us to help you, I swear it,” Risotto promises.

“Thank you… thank you all so much!”

[warmau]

☆ko-fi au: lovestruck!au x dogwalker!au yanan find other pentagon aus: here

yanan looks at the little pomeranian sitting on top of the coffee table in your living room

they have their tongue out and the little foxy face betrays a head full of no thoughts at all

"hello!"

yanan smiles cheerily and looks down at the app that lists the information of your pet, including their name

the dog walking business he works for is on another level. long gone are the paper flyers stuck to trees.

"hello - donut."

at the sound of their name, donut perks up and stands on the little nubs of their legs

it hops off the table and trots over to him - barely even reaching yanan's ankle

for someone his size, yanan adores little lap dogs - he leans down to scoop donut up in his hands

"are you ready for a walk?"

donut, regardless of only knowing yanan for a grand total of three minutes, licks his cheek and yaps in the affirmative

with a chuckle, yanan starts to look for where you mentioned you'd left the collar and leash

right on one of the shelves, he pulls donuts leash down and briefly looks at the framed photo beside it

donut is sitting in someone's lap

yanan looks at the person, who he assumes is you, and nearly forgets that he's holding donut in his arms

the only reason he doesn't drop donut is because the pup has managed to tuck its nose into yanan's shoulder

you are smiling in the photo - sitting under a big beach umbrella

he's walked a lot of peoples dogs, he's been in a lot of peoples homes, and he's seen a lot of family photos

none of them have ever made him stop short of a breath

donut nuzzles under his chin suddenly and yanan snaps back into reality

he mumbles into the little dogs head

"how lucky are you to have such a pretty owner?"

yanan becomes donut's designated walker.

you adore him - even though you have never seen or met him.

you are usually away at work when you request donut be walked, and therefore you haven't had any face to face contact with yanan

his profile picture on the app is a smiling puppy, so you kind of just imagine him as one

a big smiley pup walking your small smiley puppy

donut always seems happy when you come home after he walks with yanan earlier, yanan leaves treats in little bags along with notes after the walks too

you get regularly updated photos of donut on park benches and curiously sniffing other dogs on the street

the only snippet of yanan is his hand in a photo petting the top of donut's small head - his palm nearly dwarfing your dog

part of you thinks he must be like this with everyone - his rating on the app is perfect and everyone comments that he's hard to book

but your requests for donut always get accepted

yanan....well, he just harbors secretly that one day he will get to meet you

because from what he knows about you - which is the photo that you always set donut's leash by

and the affectionate and loving way donut acts

he thinks he can only imagine you in waves of stars and softness

dogs mimic their owners, and donut is nothing short of kind and affectionate

yanan also knows what you look like and he'd never in a million years think he'd see someone so very much his type - in a photo nonetheless

you and yanan pass each other by only in texts and in-app ratings. in the tips you leave for him walking donut and the notes he writes about how much he likes looking after your dog

yanan embarrassingly picks donut up while he's riding the elevator up to your apartment to drop him off and asks

"would your owner like me?"

donut's tail wags in response and yanan tilts his head

"so you think they would?"

donut gives another lazy blink and a small yap

"im crazy. talking to a dog."

yanan sets him down just as the elevator opens

another resident of the building, your neighbor gets all flushed as they pass him by

yanan gives a polite greeting as he fishes your spare from under the mat to let donut back in

you, busy at work, get a sudden text from your neighor

hey - your dogwalker is hot, is he single?

you hover your keys over your work computer and blink

yanan is hot?

you text back before anyone else in the office can see

really? i don't know, i've never seen him.

the reply is almost instant: oh my god. you NEED TO.

it must be luck, or actually unluck, that you end up getting sick the next week

you can't go to work but you can't make the long mid-afternoon walk you usually take your dog on so you request yanan for the job

you get an immediate confirmation and when you hear the door unlock fifteen minutes past noon

you haul your tired body out of your blankets and cough syrup as donut hops in front of you

slipping on a mask and a hoodie - you forget that you must look a mess - when you step into the living room to meet yanan for the first time

and

your neighbor hit the nail on the head. yanan, standing tall and lean in the doorway, is hot.

his black hair is pulled back by a jogging headband, his smile is wide and pretty and his eyes sparkle when they see donut

and in your dumbstruck awe, he looks up to see you

yanan also goes still. mostly because he did not know you were here, you hadn't mentioned you'd be home in the request

and beside the obvious fact that you're sick, due to the slight swelling under your eyes and mask

yanan hears alarm bells ring in his head: oh god they're so cute in person oh god what should i say to not make a fool of myself

"im here for donut!"

he manages - still functioning enough to speak

"oh not for me?"

it's a bad attempt at a joke, but your brain is fried from the flu and the hot guy in your apartment

yanan thinks he might die - but he manages to laugh slightly

"no, you only paid for donut - walks with me are extra."

you try to laugh too, but a cough comes out instead

you excuse yourself and yanan is left standing there with what could be hearts floating above his head if it weren't for the fact that he wasn't in a comic strip

the entire time yanan and donut are out, you think about how embarrassing that was

you didn't know what to expect - definitely not this level of attractiveness and of course i had to go and make a corny joke!

yanan is thinking about it too - almost walking straight into an oncoming cyclist as donut tangles their leash around their legs

what should i have said? they're cuter in person than the photo even with their face hidden! would it be weird to ask someone sick out on a date?

when it's time to bring donut home - yanan pep talks himself in front of your door

he picks donut up and off the floor - lifting him up and going

"im going to impress your owner, right - they'll like me for sure!"

donut yaps and yanan groans

"you're right. why would they like me - they probably already have a boyfriend, donut tell me does your owner have a boyfriend?"

he brings donut nose to nose with him and the pom just keeps wagging their tail

"don't hide it from me donut - we're friends - is your owner single, i don't want to ask someone out who is taken."

donut sticks their little pink tongue out to give yanan's a kiss

"ah - no, focus donut! does your owner have a boy-"

"i don't"

yanan twirls around, he almost tumbles over in the hallway as he sees you in the door

you've got your mask on but you look a little better after taking your medicine

"d-did you hear everything"

you try not to laugh because you're scared it'll come out as another cough

"yes...the walls in this building are thin."

yanan feels his throat go dry with embarrassment, he sets donut down who goes speeding into your apartment with the leash trailing behind

"sorry - i must seem like such a freak-"

"i don't think so. i like it that you're asking my dog for intel on me, have to love a man who trusts a dog."

yanan chuckles, scratching the back of his neck

"so .... does that mean you would ever consider ... going out with me some time?"

you shrug playfully

"well, you'd have to give me a week or two to get better but - i think we can arrange something."

you give him a teasing tilt of your head as yanan tries not to flush pink

"do i have to book dates with you through the app too - i don't want to get in the way of any of your other dogwalking duties."

yanan's eyes turn pretty when he smiles in response

"nope - i'll make sure my schedule puts you and donut first for whenever you're ready."

donut yaps from somewhere inside, knocking over what you're sure is a book or two in an excited post walk frenzy

you look over your shoulder than back at yanan

"so im guessing you're ok with me bringing donut on the date too?"

donut appears between your legs, looking at yanan with big brown eyes

yanan leans down to give them a scratch behind the ears

"of course - wouldn't be right without him."

you say your goodbyes and yanan says he'll be back for tomorrow's walk. when you close the door you feel all giddy, maybe half from the nyquil but also because of the little exchange

donut nips at your ankle and you look down, he yaps and you grin

"no no - even if i get a boyfriend, you're still my first love."