#their object permanence of me isn’t that bad please calm down

[gregmarriage]

feel like i always have to have something to say™️ when i text my friends, but like, i always have to remind myself that i could just say hi, or like send funny image™️ and it will be fine ☺️ <(clenching fists)

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

When you approach your ANGEL, they recoil from you.

On some level, you understand. Despite their insistence otherwise, there’s no real denying that they are fallen unless you want to shunt them back into the delusion that nearly got them and all of London killed.

They know what they are. So they pull back from even you, hands clasped to their chest and shaking; afraid they’ll taint you with their touch.

Memories fade back to your mind like instant photographs. Ash’s hands always gloved whenever he touched you. Angela touching you through objects, never directly.

Their love has been an irrevocable, permanent stain on you.

You think you’re better for that. They appear to disagree violently.

Not only that… this is the first time you’ve ever seen them this way. One being of both genders, rather than two separate entities split from the same being.

Though they might be confident in their identity otherwise, in this moment, in their mind, it’s one more thing that is ‘wrong’ with them. You know this isn’t how they would have chosen to reveal it to you.

Perhaps to many people, your angel looks strange. They’re a mismatched amalgamation of things that are masculine and feminine. Their hairstyle ― one that’s a bit short for a woman, a bit long for a man. Their clothing ― a gentleman’s jacket buttoned up over a long, lacy dress, and boots that could belong to any gender. Their body itself is soft and sharp, with angles making up the curve of their jaw and the subtle suggestion of breasts beneath their clothes.

They are not like anyone you’ve ever seen.

But what’s so bad or wrong about that?

You’ve never met anyone like yourself either, not that you know of. Someone who likes both men and women and… maybe you also like someone who has both existing inside them.

You’ll sort yourself out later. All you know is that regardless of everything, you can’t picture a future for you which doesn’t have your angel in it.

When you kneel down and touch their face, they start to cry. “No! No! No! No! No…!” they wail, using their now-feeble strength to shove your hands away. Even their voice is weak, raspy, fraying at the seams and ready to unravel.

You don’t stop. You simply put your hands back where they were, one on each of your angel’s cheeks. It was your hope that, in knowing that you love both Ash and Angela, your angel would understand that you love them too. That you accept them even if nobody else does. “Please. Darling.” You keep your voice calm. If you do, it might be a comfort they desperately need. “Don’t push me away. I’m still here. You’re alright.”

“No, I’m―” Long white lashes blink, only for more tears to roll down their face, like pearls spilling off a broken necklace. “― I’m so filthy. I’m not clean. You can’t… touch me…” Notably, they don’t make it all the way this time. Their hands stop on your wrists, the fingertips of their gloves singed away, black soot marring the ripped alabaster tones of their clothes. They’re holding onto you for dear life. “I’ll ruin you… I already have…”

You tilt your head. “I don’t feel ruined. All I can feel is concern and love for you. If you haven’t noticed, my love, you are in quite a state. May I take you home?”

They refuse to meet your eyes. “There’s no point. I failed. I’m fallen, I’m a disgrace… there is nothing else I can do. No chance for me.” Their meager grip tightens, hands shaking around your wrists as if someone about to faint. “I’m nothing. I am just a useless… broken… thing. Your time is wasted on me from here on out.”

You don’t believe that. It’s true they’ve made mistakes, horrible choices. They’ve hurt people. They may have even hurt you a few times.

Holy texts preach forgiveness, don’t they? You still love your angel. For better or worse, flaws and mistakes, Ash and Angela, beauty and oddity.

They are still yours.

What do they expect you to do ― let go of something or someone which is yours?

“Time loving someone isn’t a waste. If that’s all that ever comes of you and I, is us loving each other, my life would be well lived.” You gently sweep them into your arms, amid ineffective protests. A kiss finds itself on their cheek. “I don’t want to be with you because you’re an angel, because you could have a lot of divine power or could take me to heaven. I want to be with you because you’re you. I didn’t fall in love with you, with Ash or Angela, for any other reason.”

Who cares what they could do for you? What kind of power or status they might have held if they’d gotten back into heaven?

That isn’t what makes them worth anything.

You carry them home, and they’re very quiet as they cling to you. All you hear is the sound of them sobbing into your shoulder.

When you (carefully) toss them into the bath and begin the arduous task of cleaning them off, they haven’t stopped crying entirely. They weep, in between gasps for breath, that this is going to damn you for eternity. That your continuing to associate with them is a death sentence for your soul.

You’re not sure that’s true.

If it is, it sounds cruel ― to send someone to hell for not giving up on the person they love.

Of course, you don’t want to go to hell. But if what your angel says is true, you don’t think you’d want to go heaven either.

The only thing you can do is kiss them, and hold them, and never stop loving them.

If you go to hell for that, you won’t regret it.

[malamushbelly]

I find myself indeed trying to repress feelings and excitement at times, i feel guilty for slacking too much, i feel awful when things don’t go as planned and how things should be. i feel insecure when i performed badly at work and i start to doubt my “talent”, i worked hard for what i’m not exposed to and i also studied alot to know more for what i lacked. Even when i seemed “studious” and smart enough for my age, deep down i always get the feeling that i don’t know enough. And the more i know and understand, the more secure i will be deep inside my heart. I start to get more comfortable being alone now finally, i realised how expensive my peace can be everyday, i like how i enjoyed my time at the park alone listening to “that’s what i like” sped up, i like how disciplined i can be at my desk listening to pokemon soundtracks and focus on that one thing i should get it done with, I’m contented that i understand things easier and easier on my work, but i really wished i didn’t understand so much things in life and i just wanted to be ignorant at times too. I can’t be hurt for what i didn’t know and what it was, i was brave enough to not be stucked on my past and let what shouldn’t affect me affect my future that i’m trying to craft out. And that’s where i also truly realised relying on purely logic is the most comfortable way of life and compared to relying on emotions or you can call it “instincts” will more likely to be the wrong way because it doesn’t have any logical structure to the situation you probably will be facing. Being calm in life takes time to master, gaining wisdom comes along with pain but it protects you from future issues, and lastly it’s a testament to further evaluate how long are you going to dance with monkeys in this earth while deep down you know what’s need to be done, executed, and to achieve out of it. And furthermore being alone isn’t so bad isn’t it? Everyone will betray you at some point and nothing is permanent in this life. Learn to love yourself more and let’s continue our path together. Talk to yourself here when you really need to, if there is a super hard issue you are facing in the future or some potential issues that disrupts your superior logical mind refer back to here. Your past self is telling you to restructure your mind, it’s okay to retreat this battle because winning the war is the objective, always look for ways to win not getting out mind you mister and lastly you are the most reliable self to rely on. No one can solve it except yourself. Don’t think so much and enjoy ourselves here and make the best of out this life and don’t be affected by monkeys who dances along with majority and get affected by each other for their own ignorance and stupidity. You’re better than those monkeys please. 🐈‍⬛

[purplespaceace]

very few characters actually have adhd in media, and when they do, what people mean by that is just that they fidget a lot, not that they have adhd. the only character with adhd I can think of where I’ve watched/read it and I’ve gone, “oh, this character actually has adhd” is Jake peralta from Brooklyn 99. so, here’s my take on how to write adhd, with examples from Brooklyn 99.

I’ll do the best I can to separate them into three categories; the three things people look for in adults with ADHD, which are rejection sensitivity dysphoria, an interest-based nervous system, and emotional hyperarousal.

I’ll also randomly bold and italicize bits so people with ADHD can actually read it.

Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria, or RSD

Rejection sensitivity dysphoria makes people with ADHD overly sensitive to criticism, even if they perceive a rejection and there actually isn’t one. Their emotions are also very strong generally. Because of RSD, people with ADHD become people-pleasers and can develop anxiety because they’re so eager to please.

For me, RSD makes me cry an embarrassing amount for any little reason. in your writing, make your characters overdramatic, criers, and/or people-pleasers. They’ll have trouble saying no. They may also be over competitive, as their perceived rejection may include losing.

how does Jake show this in b99? When Jake comes up with a catchphrase and Rosa says it’s terrible, jake is far more hurt than he should be. He hates losing, and he gets overly upset whenever someone says they don’t like him or don’t trust him, etc. he’s also a people pleaser who has trouble saying no.

An interest-based nervous system

An interest-based nervous system includes hyperfocuses and an inability to pay attention. It stems from the fact that we can’t make as much dopamine as neurotypicals. This means that while neurotypicals get dopamine after completing a task, people with ADHD don’t. That means that people with ADHD don’t have any reason to do tasks, especially those they don’t like. This leads to executive dysfunction—people with ADHD will know they have to or want to do something, but they can’t seem to do it. people with ADHD hyperfocus on things that bring them dopamine. I was obsessed with warrior cats for three years. But hyperfocuses can also last a short amount of time—I’ll have a drawing idea in the middle of class and won’t be able to concentrate on anything else before I finish it. this is where our impulsiveness comes from. we can leap into things we think will give us dopamine without thinking, which can lead to injury. We also tend to tell people personal things they don’t want to hear because of this, and don’t have very good boundaries. We sometimes say whatever comes into our head, which can also result in us being rude on accident. Our voices can also get very loud or we can interrupt people frequently because we’re so impulsive. When people with ADHD hyperfocus, they can forget about anything else. I’ll forget to eat if I’m busy reading a Wikipedia article about feminism in the 1850s, and won’t go to the bathroom or drink water either. It’s also important to note that taking away distractions doesn’t help, because we can do things like pick at our skin and daydream—something that people with ADHD do a lot of. Because of executive dysfunction, people can call people with ADHD lazy or irresponsible.

people with ADHD can also be extremely indecisive because ADHD affects our executive functioning, and making decisions requires planning and prioritizing, and task initiation, which are both executive functions!

people with ADHD also have poor memory for important things, but tend to remember random bits of trivia. Poor memory leads to object permanence problems, which means people with ADHD can forget to call a friend back for weeks, forget that they need to read library books in a closed cabinet, or forget that the vegetables they got will go bad. People can sometimes say that people with ADHD don’t care about anything because of this.

people with ADHD can also be prone to depression because of under or overstimulation. Boredom feels painful for people with ADHD. If we’re overstimulated, we can experience sensory overload—if things are too bright or too loud, if too many things are touching us at once—often it’s not because the thing is too intense, but because too many things are happening at once.

We also have something some people call dolphin brain, where we jump from one thing to another. From the outside, it looks really random, but I find that when I’m talking to another neurodivergent communication is generally easier. For instance, someone with ADHD might see a bee at a baseball field and tell their team about the time they saw whales at seaworld because their little brother was also stung by a wasp there. people will see no connection on the outside, but it makes perfect sense to the person with ADHD.

people with ADHD can also be overachievers, either because they hyperfocus on schoolwork or their RSD makes it so that failing at something isn’t an option. people with ADHD can also be very controlling and stubborn, probably because we hyperfocus on something and cant handle it being any different, and any change to our plans can be seen as rejection.

we can also have a hard time ordering our thoughts or doing stuff like math in our head. a lot of the time I number my thoughts like, 1. this reason, 2. this reason, etc. even if theres only two or sometimes I just need the 1. as a transition for my brain. when I don’t write it down or organize it like that it feels like I’m trying to grasp ropes that have been covered in oil (it’s not going to happen) and then my brain gets all jumbled and I have to restart at the beginning. this is probably just me, but it feels the same way when I’m reading long paragraphs of something uninteresting, or even short bits of historical documents because the way they phrase things is really pompous and hard to process.

also, stuff like caffeine calms us down and helps us focus. people who don’t take medication (me) often drink coffee or caffeinated sodas to focus.

another random tip, but if your character with ADHD also is genderfluid or genderflux, they might have a hard time figuring out their gender sometimes, because we can be known to have a hard time putting our feelings into words or our brains will just go, “nope, not thinking about that right now” and move on, which can be pretty frustrating.

people with adhd also have a trait called time blindness, where we have no idea how long something takes and therefore can’t manage our time very well. this often results in us being late or just sitting around the house because we got ready way too early.

we also have something called consequence blindness—we do things and are completely unaware of the consequences. if I don’t brush my teeth, I get cavities. but I don’t think about that when I’m deciding I’m too tired to brush my teeth.

in b99, jake regularly stays up all night solving cases and watches documentaries on random topics. He’s also very distractible—when they’re trying to find the person who sent Captain Holt death threats in the train yard, Jake says he and captain holt should take a train trip together sometime. Jake says that he’ll forget Amy if they don't work together because he’s like a goldfish.

Emotional hyperarousal

This is the only thing people tend to include when writing characters: the fidgeting. People with ADHD tend to need more stimulation than others, so we’ll do things like draw during class and chew on pens.

people with ADHD can also have apd, or auditory processing disorder. we tend to watch shows with subtitles on and may take a second to process what you’re saying, or hear it wrong. The subtitles thing may be partially do to creating just the right amount of stimulation, but if I don’t have subtitles, me and my other friends with ADHD will watch tv with the volume turned up very high. People with ADHD also can have a hard time interpreting other people‘s tone and have a hard time controlling their own. They can be bad at social cues and have poor manners because we don’t pick up on that stuff.

people with ADHD also tend to observe everything or nothing at any given time, mostly based on the amount of stimulation they have—if they dont have a lot in their main task, they’ll need to take in something else at the same time. Likewise, if I’m hyperfocusing on something I often don’t notice anything else, like if someone asks me a question.

in b99, Jake fidgets with things a lot. In the intro, he’s picking up and examining a figurine on his desk, likely because he was bored with paperwork or some other task.

[honey-dewey]

Gold in the Summertime

Pairing:  Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 2,545

Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of injury, stitches, and needles, but it’s mostly just that sweet sweet hurt/comfort

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Very few good things ever happen at three AM in the Urgent Care. Let’s make a short list of things that will definitely not fall under the category of ‘good.’ 1) Having a patient who has apparently injured himself but refuses to tell you how. 2) Said patient hyperventilating and panicking until he actually breaks something because you tried to give him a tetanus shot. 3) The same patient’s three best friends yelling at you. 4) Singing to still the same patient to calm him down so you can stick him with a tiny needle so he won’t possibly die of tetanus.

A/N: The song that inspired this fic is actually a favorite of mine called ‘Gold in the Summertime’ by Matt Nathanson. Not required to read the fic, but it’s a cute song. 

“Hey.” 

“Oh hell no,” you said, turning to see your fellow night shift nurse, Tori, standing in the door of the break room. “No, I am not dealing with whatever drunken fool walked into that waiting room. It is three in the morning and I do not feel like screwing around right now.” 

Tori raised an eyebrow. “Done?” 

“Done,” you said, standing and preparing for the inevitable. “Who’s the patient?” 

Tori handed you a file. You opened it, quickly scanning the information. F. Morales, forty two years old, in decent health, up to date with all his immunizations, served in the military, and was currently in the Urgent Care for a laceration on his left shoulder. 

“How bad is it?” You asked, closing the file and following Tori to the waiting room. 

“Eh,” she said with a shrug. “He isn’t gushing blood, so it’s not ER worthy. Probably just needs some stitches and a tetanus shot, depending on what got him.” 

You blinked. “He didn’t say?” 

Tori grinned. “Nope. Have fun.” 

Groaning to yourself, you opened the waiting room door. “Morales?” 

A man stood up, clearly the injured one in his group of friends due to the wad of cloth he was pressing to his left shoulder. “Yes?” 

“Follow me,” you said, tucking the file beneath your arm. “So, what happened?” 

The man grimaced. “Uh, I busted my shoulder.” 

“How?” 

The man was silent as you pushed open an exam room door and gestured him inside. “Well?” 

“Well what?” 

You sighed. “How’d you cut yourself?” You asked again, watching the man hop up on the exam table. You walked around to his back and slowly cut away the patch of his shirt that covered his shoulder. “And while you’re at it, you got a first name I could use, Mr. Morales?” 

“Please just call me Frankie, most people do.” 

“Most people?” 

Frankie shifted as you examined the harsh tear in the skin. “My friends, those assholes outside, call me Catfish.” 

You chuckled. “Military nickname?” 

“Yeah.” Frankie winced as you pressed a finger against the wound. 

A beat of silence, and then you had another question. “Is Frankie your legal name?” 

“No, why?” 

You smiled. “We need a legal name for the records.” 

Frankie shrugged his uninjured right shoulder as you continued to evaluate the messy scrape on his left. “It’s Francisco. And that shit hurts.” 

“Sorry,” you said, stepping back. “It needs a few stitches,” you decided. “But it isn’t horribly urgent so I’m gonna go grill your buddies outside to see if they’ll give me more answers about what happened.” 

Frankie nodded, watching you leave. 

“Would the party that escorted one Francisco Morales please follow me?” You asked, pushing open the waiting room door. 

Three men stood up, and you led them down the hall a ways, so your conversation would be private. “Alright. Spill. He won’t tell me what happened.” 

The man on the left snorted. “Unsurprising,” he said. “Fish is like a damn lockbox.”

“Benny,” the man in the middle hissed, nudging the man on the left. “Santi, you wanna take this? You saw it best.” 

“Excuse you!” Benny objected. “I was there too!” 

“You’re drunk.” 

The man on the right, Santi, sighed. “Frankie got into a fight outside the bar we were at tonight. Some guy made a horrible comment about how women belong in the kitchen, I dunno, I didn’t hear that bit too well. But Frankie managed to win the fight with minimal injuries, right up until the guy’s equally shitty friend clipped his shoulder with a ripped in half beer can.” 

You nodded, jotting notes down on Frankie’s file. “So what I’m hearing is that he was cut with a piece of likely filthy metal?” 

“Yep.” 

“Perfect,” You grumbled sarcastically. “You boys can head back to the waiting room. I’ll send him out when I’m done.” 

The boys left, and you swung by the supply closet to grab a suture kit before heading back into Frankie’s exam room. “Still bleeding?” 

Frankie looked up. “Yeah.” He had taken his hat off, fidgeting with the worn out brim. “Hurts.” 

“I’ll bet,” you said, coming up behind him and gently taking his hand off the wound. “Gonna pop some stitches in, disinfect the hell out of this, then get your height, weight, the like, and send you off with a tetanus shot just for good measure. That old beer can probably doesn’t have any kind of illness, but we have to be sure.” 

Frankie was silent, which wasn’t a good thing. You disinfected the wound, which sent him into a tailspin of hissed curses in your general direction, and before he realized what was happening, you were halfway done with the stitches. 

“And that’s the last one,” you said, tying off the last stitch. “The stitches dissolve after a while, so you shouldn’t have to worry about coming back to get them removed. But do take care to change the bandages twice a day, and do not use this arm. I don’t care what you have to do, please do not rip these stitches.” 

Frankie chuckled. “Yes doctor.” 

Finishing up the bandage, you grinned at Frankie’s current shirt situation. “Do you want me to grab you a new shirt? I kinda ruined yours.” 

“You did your job,” Frankie pointed out. “But yes, that would be nice.” 

You ducked out of the room and grabbed a spare shirt from the nurse’s lost and found. “No one’s claimed this thing for almost eight months. I think the guy who owned it quit,” you said, handing Frankie the old Jack Daniels whiskey shirt. You watched him struggle to put it on, helping him a bit as the shirt got caught on his shoulder. 

“Okay, follow me,” you said once Frankie was wearing a shirt again. He followed, just as asked, and you took his height and weight, texting both figures to Tori so she could prep a tetanus shot for you. In the meantime, you kept Frankie occupied, asking him questions about military things in the exam room. 

“What’d you do in the military?” 

“I was a pilot.” 

“Planes?” 

“Helos.” 

“Fun. I’ve never been in a helicopter before. Those friends outside, are they?” 

“Military friends? Yeah, mostly. I knew Santiago before all that though.” 

A knock at the door interrupted your bonding session. Tori opened the door, holding a tray with the tetanus shot and a band-aid. “Sorry. Those shitty kids band-aids were all I could find.” 

You shrugged. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m sure Mr. Morales won’t object to a Paw Patrol band-aid.” 

However, as you turned back to Frankie, you realized he’d gone white as a sheet. “Frankie?” 

Frankie shied away from you, despite you not moving. “Don’t,” he said, voice choked. “Please.” 

Your heart squeezed at the desperation in his voice. He was very plainly terrified. “Frankie,” you repeated calmly, holding both hands up so he knew you were unarmed. “Hey, deep breaths.” 

Frankie took a stuttering breath, and you sent a silent prayer out that he wouldn’t have a panic attack here. You sat next to him, keeping a few feet of space between you and him. “Do you want me to go get the boys?” 

Frankie shook his head, eyes wide. You tried to think. Distracting him would do no good. You’d tried that before with other people, and with patients who were this panicky, a distraction made it worse. Trying to sneak up on him was somehow an even worse idea. With his background, he was likely to know when someone was trying to surprise him, and he could definitely defend himself. The only thing you could think of was calming him down and then sticking him as fast as you could. 

It took a few minutes, but Frankie’s breathing returned to normal, and his muscles relaxed somewhat. You didn’t move, simply sitting there beside him and establishing yourself as a calm figure despite your reeling mind. “Frankie?” 

He looked up at you, not saying a word. 

“Are you ready to try?” You asked. “I have to give you the shot. I don’t want you to get sick, okay? Tetanus is a killer, and I don’t wanna see you dying in a hospital bed until you’re at least eighty, okay?” 

A slow nod. You stood, making your movements obvious as you put on new gloves and opened an alcohol wipe. 

“C’mere,” you said, gesturing Frankie closer. He scooted towards you, and you met him halfway. “This is cold, just a warning.” 

You rolled up Frankie’s shirt sleeve, exposing his left shoulder. He shivered as you ran the alcohol wipe across his skin, and kept his eyes anywhere but on you as you uncapped the tiny syringe. “Frankie?” 

Frankie whined, his breathing picking up again as his body barreled towards full panic mode. 

“Frankie!” You recapped the syringe and set it aside, turning your full attention to Frankie. He jumped away from you, eyes wide once more. You stood back as he curled in on himself, breathing quickening too fast. He was hyperventilating. “Frankie! Listen to me! You’re not-“ 

You cut yourself off as the loud, ragged breaths began to turn into animalistic screams, Frankie losing his balance and falling off the exam table and crashing into the sink before hitting the floor. The thud his body made scared you, but not as much as his current panicked state. 

“Tori!” You yelled, opening the door and yelling for your coworker. “Tori!” 

Unfortunately, it was not Tori who came to your rescue. It was Frankie’s three friends, all of whom looked incredibly concerned. Tori was behind them, shouting that they couldn’t be back here. Santiago simply pushed past you and immediately rushed to Frankie’s side, the other two joining him as he attempted to console Frankie. 

You, knowing your help wouldn’t be needed, tried to step away, but Santiago turned to call you back. “Come here!” 

Sighing, you hesitantly entered the exam room. “What do you need from me?” 

“What did you do to him?” Benny asked, clearly the most worried. “He hasn’t had an attack this bad in years!” 

“I just tried to give him a tetanus shot!” You defended. 

Santiago and the other man had gotten Frankie situated back on the exam table, sitting on his sides and keeping him upright as Benny rushed in and took his hands. “Fish? You with us buddy?” 

Frankie, who had thankfully stopped screaming, whined. Benny smiled, squeezing his hands. “There’s our Fish. Hey, hey, no, look at me,” he directed as Frankie’s eyes drifted to you in the corner and his breath hitched. 

Frankie’s head slumped against Santiago’s shoulder. He hummed uncomfortably, face scrunching as he shifted, trying to get comfortable. 

“His shoulder,” you guessed softly. “Someone’s touching it.” 

The man on Frankie’s right looked at his back. “Shit. Sorry Fish.” 

Frankie sighed in relief and turned into pudding against Santiago’s shoulder. Benny still held his hands, humming softly. The other man, whose name you still didn’t know, stood and pulled you aside. “Hey. Did he tell you?” 

“That he was trypanophobic?” You said, sliding your hands in your pockets. “No. But I figured it out pretty quickly when he went white as hell as soon as he saw the syringe. No one has a reaction this severe unless they have a phobia.” 

The man nodded. “Yeah. Benny was right. Fish is kinda stubborn about these things. He hasn’t had an anxiety attack in years though. Sorry Benny gave you shit about triggering one. I know it wasn’t really your fault.” 

“It was,” you mumbled, eyeing Frankie over the man’s shoulder. “It just wasn’t my intention.” 

“Yeah.” The man looked back at Frankie. “Is the tetanus shot necessary?” 

You nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Santiago looked at you. “How good are you at singing?” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“It keeps him calm,” Santiago explained. “He used to sing to the helos whenever there was bad turbulence. Kept him level. We’d do it while you give him the shot, but none of us can sing.” 

Frankie made a small, strangled noise, and you almost freaked out until Benny smiled and you realized Frankie was trying to laugh. 

Smiling, you grabbed the syringe, a new alcohol wipe, and the band-aid. Santiago moved so he was sitting mostly behind Frankie, still supporting him. The other man, who you faintly heard Benny call Will, sat back on Frankie’s right. Benny took Frankie’s hands and stood to the side a bit so you would have room to work. 

“Oh, let’s keep this going, I wanna go all in,” you sang softly, repeating some cute and catchy song Tori insisted on playing whenever she could. “We’ll never be lonely in the dark.” As you sang, you opened the alcohol wipe and cleaned a patch of Frankie’s shoulder. 

“Rooftop in soho, Prince on the radio,” you kept going, uncapping the syringe and taking Frankie’s arm. “The city streets glow, gold in the summertime.” You quickly, between words, stuck Frankie and pressed down on the plunger. He whined, shying from the pain, but you just pressed the band-aid over the tiny puncture mark and kept singing. “Summertime, summertime, summertime, I gotta get that feeling.” 

Gently taking Benny’s place, you stripped your gloves off and put your hands overtop Frankie’s. “You did good, Frankie,” you said. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here so the boys can take you home.” 

Frankie wobbled to his feet, still nonverbal and a bit unsteady. You ended up needing a break in the waiting room, which was still empty. Giving Santiago a bottle of water for Frankie, you sat next to Frankie while the boys started the car. 

You absently hummed the song from earlier, mostly to fill the stifling silence. As you reached the part you’d sung for Frankie, you noticed, with a small jolt, that he was humming along with you. 

“You like the song?” You guessed, and Frankie nodded. 

“Here.” You pulled a pen from your coat pocket and took his hand. “Give the whole thing a listen,” you said, scrawling down the name and artist of the song on Frankie’s hand. “And then call me,” you finished, adding your phone number below the writing. 

Frankie smiled. “Meet cute,” he rasped, voice practically destroyed. 

You laughed. “This is more of a meet ugly, but sure.” 

Santiago came back, helping Frankie to his feet. 

“See you again?” Frankie asked, voice still pretty shot.

“Hopefully not,” you said, holding the door open for Santiago. “At least, not here.” 

Just like that, Frankie was gone. 

That sunrise, as you settled into bed, you got a text from an unknown number. 

Unknown Number: Song was super cute. Definitely adding it to my exercise playlist

You: Is this Mr. Morales?

Unknown Number: Just Frankie

Unknown Number was saved as Just Frankie

You: Okay Just Frankie. How’s your shoulder

Just Frankie: Hurts like a bitch, but I’ve had worse. 

You: I’ll bet. 

Just Frankie: Hey, wanted to ask you something 

You: shoot

Just Frankie: do you always work nights?

You: not always, but mostly. 

Just Frankie: cool. You free tomorrow at noon? I found this cool lunch place that has the best burgers ever

You: ever? I’ll have to see about that

Just Frankie: it’s a date then 

You: It’s a date

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 29: Into the Empty Storm

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

You have more questions than answers and are starting to think that maybe there aren't any answers. When you wake up, Chen provides you with some but maybe they aren't what you wanted to hear. You have a crisis of faith- but pick yourself back up. Change is coming.

A/N: Change IS coming, on like... Saturday. That's when the choice is! I'm letting you know now that the choice is a weird mundane choice that will change the story! Also, it's almost my birthday, and all I want is more free time to write y/n and these boys LOL. Hope you are all well. Smooches. (title is from a song called believe in nothing, i steal many titles from song lyrics)

Part 28 Part 30 Chapter Index

Your eyes fluttered open.

Your head was splitting but the stone ceiling was at least familiar.

What happened?

Everything was fuzzy. You tried sit up, but your body was too heavy and your arms too weak. Your fingers were tingling and numb, your muscles sore as if they had gone unused for weeks.

“Oh! You’re awake!” Chen’s voice came from your right, but this was not the infirmary. Your stomach was in knots and your shoulder was stiff. You sat up to greet your friend anyway, but your body objected with pain. “Whoa, whoa, hey slow down!” Chen carefully helped you lay back and then propped your head up a bit higher when you tried to sit up again. You were in your room. You hadn’t recognized it immediately.

You were confused.

“Why?” You choked out and then cleared your throat. Your mouth tasted like you hadn’t talked in just as long as your body hadn’t been used. Chen looked nervous and weary, like she hadn’t slept in just as long. “Why do I feel like this?”

“What exactly do you remember?” Chen hesitated. You closed your eyes and tried to remember how you’d gotten there.

That was right. It had been chaos.

“Everything went to hell when I touched the artifacts and…” You knitted your brow and tried to remember. “Oh, god, then Raiden tried to read me and that’s… that’s all I remember.” Your shoulder ached at the memory. There had been nothing else after that. Only pain.

“That was… Y/N, that was three days ago.” Chen braced herself for your panicked response. You stayed silent. Three days? How was that possible? It had felt like both a blink and an eternity of pain and darkness.

“What?” Your stomach dropped and it occurred to you now that there was an IV in your arm. Chen had likely been there the whole time keeping an eye on your vitals and making notes. There was a bedroll on the ground nearby as if to validate your thoughts. Why there? Why weren’t you in the infirmary? You already knew the answer.

You were too dangerous.

Three days was too long to be unconscious.

Your hands were still tingling. That was right. Raiden had shocked you because you had nearly killed Liu Kang and Kung Lao.

“Is Liu okay? Kung Lao?” Whatever had happened to you was less important.

“One thing at a time, Y/N.” Chen tried to urge you to lay back as you tried to sit up, but you shoved her hand away. “Please lay down. You need to take it easy, okay? You had… a little just… don’t panic when I say it, okay?”

“Tell me and then I’ll decide if it warrants panic or not.”

“I don’t want to make you any worse.”

“You not telling me is making it worse.”

“Just try to remember that it’s more complicated than what I’m about to say.”

“Would you just say it already?”

“You had a heart thing.”

You froze. Your ears were suddenly ringing. A heart thing? What kind of heart thing? What did that mean? You let Chen help you lay back down so you could focus on taking calm and deep breaths. Chen was checking your pulse on your wrist and watching you with concerned dark eyes.

A heart thing.

You were young! Healthy! Or at least you had been before those assholes had broken into your dojo and turned your life upside down. This wasn’t fair.

You hadn’t realized you had been holding your breath until Chen was shaking your arm to remind you to breathe. You exhaled and your lungs ached in response. They’d been deprived of too much oxygen too many times now. You finally turned back to Chen whose brow was set in a permanent line of concern.

“Are you okay?”

“You said it was more complicated. How?”

“It wasn’t a heart attack. It was a cardiac incident. You don’t… there are no blockages or anything causing it, but…”

“Isn’t it still the same thing? Heart fails?” You didn’t know much about medicine but you’d seen enough bad Korean dramas to know that the two things were similar.

“It’s different, okay? Your heart is strong, Y/N. You’ll recover. It’s just going to take a bit.”

“I am so fucking tired of my fucking body just… fucking betraying me. Fuck. Just… fuck.” You wanted to rub your hand over your face but you felt so weak that you could have screamed in frustration if you had the energy. Instead, you continued to swear beneath your breath. Chen covered her mouth and laughed, her cheeks pink. Really? That made her blush? She could make dick jokes all day long but swear words made her blush? “I can’t seem to catch a fucking break.”

“It’ll be okay, Y/N. I promise.” Chen had a rare moment of seriousness and offered your hand a comforting squeeze.

“I know.” You heaved a sigh and closed your eyes, taking a few deep cleansing breaths. “I know.” You finally calmed and were able to lift your hand enough to rub over the gauze on your shoulder. It was aching. “I just had to get it out of my system.”

“I get it.” Chen pulled your hand away from the gauze. “Careful with that, please. I’m still trying to get that thing under control and understand what it is.”

“It’s the crack from that godforsaken bell Kung Lao and I found in Japan.” You said in a mocking tone that made Chen laugh again. You should have left the damn things where they were. Things had only escalated far beyond your control since you’d gotten back. You’d felt like you’d made progress before then. “Can you help me sit up?”

“I heard that part of the story. We’re trying to figure out what kind of a connection could cause that. Raiden’s still going with curse. Going with god-curse now actually.”

“Oh. Great.” You let Chen help you sit up and then scooted back against the pillows that Chen adjusted for you. You leaned your head back against the cold stone of the wall behind the bed and breathed a sigh of relief. It had taken tremendous effort to sit upright but you felt better now that you had. If you hadn’t used your body in three days, it would take some getting used to your muscles being used again. Thankfully, it hadn’t been any longer.

“Yeah, I imagine that can’t mean anything good. He didn’t tell me much more, just that it was important to tend to it and report any changes. I don’t think I was supposed to hear everything that I did.” Chen tended to the mess of medical supplies that she had set on the floor by your desk.

“You’re good at that.”

“Sometimes being a gossip comes in handy, Y/N.”

“You didn’t answer me before. Are Liu and Lao alright?”

“Lao’s fine. Not even a scrape. He’s proud of that.” Chen smiled sympathetically. “Liu needed a few stitches but he’ll heal up in no time. He’s resilient. Doesn’t ever complain. It’s sweet how worried you are for them.” You weren’t sure that you would ever forget the way that his blood had felt splattering on your skin. You’d been the one to hurt him. He’d been trying to save you from yourself and it had backfired. He’d tell you not to feel guilty but you felt guilty, dammit. There was no way around it. They had been so angry with Raiden for pushing you but you had volunteered to do what you did. It was important even if it had been the wrong choice. You hoped they weren’t losing their minds over you being out for so long. If you had been waiting on one of them to wake up then you would have been going completely crazy.

You wanted them to be okay.

“Thank you.” You were grateful that Chen was there to reassure you and take care of your health. You guessed that Chen had probably volunteered since you were considered dangerous.

“Happy to help, Y/N.” Chen smiled sympathetically. “I’m so relieved to see you awake, I can’t begin to tell you how much. And not just because Kung Lao has been here about a hundred times. He keeps asking to come in. How you’re doing. If he could take over for me for a while. I told him that I’d let him know when you were awake and he doesn’t listen.” Chen clicked her tongue in amusement. You rolled your eyes so hard that Chen snorted. Sweet but typical of him. “Liu came by exactly once and I told him the same thing. He took my word for it. So, par for the course with those two.”

“Sounds about right.” You leaned your head back against the wall again and closed your eyes. God, this was a mess. A cardiac thing? God-curse? There was a mark on your body that mimicked the crack in a cursed object. You’d been nearly choked to death by some gross pale demon-man and you’d maimed Liu Kang. Again.

Where was the line?

Would there ever be an end to this?

Guilt.

You were so tired of guilt.

And pain.

You would gladly take the pain for the rest of your life if it meant keeping the people that you cared about safe from whatever this was. You held your head in your hands and massaged your temples.

“Don’t get in a funk about this, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah.” You didn’t argue with Chen, but you wondered if this ended in your inevitable death. It didn’t feel like things were getting better. They had escalated violently in the last few days. No matter what control you’d had over your arcana, when you lost control? You lost it to a point where it was dangerous to be around you. Was it fair for you to still be there?

You were putting them all in danger.

Was it fair to consider Liu Kang or Kung Lao’s advances when you were such a danger to them? When it suddenly felt unlikely that you would survive this?

It felt particularly cruel to connect with Kung Lao again after years of having thought he was dead. To have him back only for things to wind up like this. And for Liu Kang, a man you had an insane draw to, unlike any you had ever felt. You’d hurt him now so many times. You knew he was strong but how long until you accidentally hurt him beyond repair? Chen took some vials of blood and you felt almost instantly nauseated at the sight of it. You fanned your face and were grateful to find that your body was adjusting to being used again. Chen helped you stretch and stand and get used to your body again before helping you back down and removing the IV.

“Do you know what will make you feel better?”

“Sleep?”

“I mean, yes, but also… getting you crazy drunk and then having one of those boys come over here to take care of you.” Chen made air quotes and you whined in response. You’d almost forgotten that Chen’s brain lived only in the gutter. “You just have to pick your poison. Kung Lao or Liu Kang.”

“I know that you’re joking but I still feel compelled to tell you that’s a bad idea right now.” If you drank right now, then you would wind up a sobbing disaster of a human being wallowing in self-pity. You didn’t need that right now and neither did either of them.

No matter how you tried to push it away, you couldn’t get it out of your head that this was how you died.

It felt very unfair.

“I need to see you smile, Y/N.” Chen’s voice was dripping with concern. She clasped her hand over yours. “Please?”

“I can’t pretend to do that right now, Chen. I’m still processing that three days have gone by. I’m still processing what happened in there and what any of it could mean. This was supposed to give me answers and all I have are more questions and every fuck up is more violent than the last.”

“We’ll get your answers, Y/N. It’ll be okay. Raiden is going to find a way.”

“Yeah.” You didn’t necessarily agree. Raiden was a God. You were sure that if he knew your existence was putting them all in danger then he would do what was necessary to stop that from happening. Not that you thought that he wanted that for you. He would try to help but there was only so much anyone could do. You assumed he saw a picture bigger than just your life.

“Y/N…” Chen looked to you seriously. “I don’t like this.”

“Wow, really? Because I am having a great time.”

“What an unhealthy coping mechanism.”

“Don’t judge me. It’s working.”

“Is it though?” Chen smiled sadly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I need to get out of bed and get used to my body again.”

“You should rest a bit longer.”

“I’ve been doing nothing but resting for three days, Chen.” You wanted to do something, anything to feel in control of your body. Chen studied you nervously but then offered you a nod. Together you worked your body just enough to help you get used to being awake and moving around. There was so little that you could control that it felt good to have something small. Chen was willing to help you even if she had tried to get you to slow down. You refused and pushed through it. You knew your limits.

You wanted to feel like yourself and break the fog hanging over you.

After some time, Chen forced you to stop and you rested your hand over your sore shoulder. You could feel your heart beating beneath it. Everything hurt but it only made you want to fight harder to get past whatever this was. You wouldn’t let it win. You wouldn’t let that thing win. It had frightened you for a few minutes and, truthfully, it still scared the hell out of you, but the fear no longer crippled you. You were determined to beat it.

You were not going to die because of this.

“What’s this?” Chen pointed to the wilting flower on the desk next to your journal. You thought that you were much like that flower now. An unfortunate parallel, you thought. Chen was cleaning up some of her medical things and putting them into a small bag after rolling up her bed.

“Just a sweet trinket.” You smiled fondly at the flower. It was pretty, even wilting.

“Liu Kang? Seems like something he would do. Finding beauty in things that are even temporary or some nonsense.”

“It does sound like him but it was actually Kung Lao.”

“Is that so?” Chen pulled out the desk chair and sat. “Can’t say that I can picture him giving anyone a flower. And no offense, but I don’t picture you as much of a flower getting kind of girl, either.”

“And exactly what kind of girl do you think I am, then?” You laughed in surprise. Chen perked up when she heard you laugh.

“You seem more like a grand-gesture kind of girl. Not really a material things girl.”

“Nice save, Chen.”

“We’re off topic. The flower. Focus, Y/N.”

“Oh, right.” You picked up the flower, twisting the stem carefully between your thumb and forefinger. It was still hanging on. There was some life left in it. Not much though. “It’s just something from when we were kids. It was the last time I’d seen him. He gave it to me before we said goodbye and then… he died. Well, at least I thought he had died. Still wrapping my brain around that one.” You set the delicate thing on the desk again.

“Yeah, that’s a big thing.”

“Off topic again though. When he returned from his errand for Raiden, he had found me another. I need to press it between the pages of the journal or something.”

“…you are talking about Kung Lao, right?” Chen seemed skeptical.

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculously sweet. I’m having a hard time associating it with him.” Chen looked to the flower suspiciously as if she thought you were making up stories to tease her.

“Well, presumably the original flower was burned up in the fire so… it was nice of him to get me another. Not that he would have known I kept it. I guess it had been as important to him as it was to me.”

“You still had the original one?”

“Yeah. I had pressed it between the pages of my favorite book and got special paper to protect it. I hadn’t opened it in years but I assume it’s been burned to a crisp.” You felt the weight of your truth settling on your shoulders. Your life was gone. This wasn’t some crazy vivid dream that you’d eventually recover from. That life was over. There were moments where you missed the monotony but you were also grateful that it had happened to you and not to someone else. You had never fit in back home. Everyone else had belonged there. This was a better place for you.

“And you’re sure that this was Kung Lao, right?”

“I’m positive.” You laughed. Kung Lao definitely didn’t come off as sweet to most people, you realized. It was kind of adorable that it was just for you.

“You were really hung up on him, huh?”

“That’s a different life now, Chen. I thought he was dead. I cherished the little time we had.” Your ran your fingers through your messy hair. It was getting too long.

“Have you thought about going back? To see what happened?”

“I have,” you answered honestly. “But it’s a bad idea, I think. I killed people that night, Chen. And then there was the fire. They probably think that I’m dead. It’s not wrong to assume that either. Part of me died that day. I’m different. I can’t go back to being that woman and I can’t risk being seen.” You had put distance between the woman you had been and the woman you had become. You’d had to. It had been the only way to cope. “I’ve been nervous to talk about it. I can’t explain why.”

“You should probably ask Kung Lao to explain what happened.”

“Yeah, he just loves having a serious conversation. But you’re right. I’m ready to find out, I think.” Of all the crazy things that had happened in your life that one didn’t seem so crazy anymore. After what had happened in Raiden’s chamber, after maiming Liu, after having a heart thing, you could handle what had happened in your hometown.

“I didn’t quite understand the hang up that you had with Kung Lao. He’s such a… difficult man to get along with when you do what I do. But I suppose that I can see it now, knowing a bit more about the history between you two.” Chen admired the flower. “That’s a deep connection. He’s sweet to you… which I find difficult to believe so you must be special to him. Where with Liu…”

“Chen…” You turned your gaze. “Can we not talk about this right now? I know that you’re trying to make me laugh but I’m… I’m scared and my brain is having a hard time with all of this. Tomorrow, I promise, that all bets are off. You can tease me as much as you want but for right now, I need a break.”

“I get it.” Chen smiled and then got up, sat next to you on the bed, and wrapped her arms around you in a comforting hug. “I really do, Y/N.” She held you for a moment before you finally returned the hug. It felt strange to be hugged but nice. No romantic conflict involved. No stress about what it might mean. Just a hug. Comfort. You sniffled, not realizing that your eyes were misty with tears until then.

After Chen pulled back, you wiped your eyes and cleared your throat.

“This is only because you’re in such a state, Y/N. Trust me. Tomorrow? I’m back to pestering you.” Chen scolded and you smiled. “Besides, I wanted to bring up something more serious before I left anyway.”

“Oh, good. Serious with you never ends well for me.”

“It’s not anything medical. I gave you all the news there was to give for that. But with… everything that’s happened? People are starting to talk about it. I mean, they already were to an extent but more about how… scary it is.” Chen avoided your eyes and you felt a familiar and unpleasant frustration in the pit of your stomach. Gossip. “I just wanted to brace you for it. You might get some looks while you’re out and about. Raiden wouldn’t let me keep you in the infirmary just in case something happened. I’ve never seen him so worried, Y/N. It scared us a little.”

You figured Raiden was worried that you’d hurt someone and there was the confirmation. You had hurt someone. You’d hurt Liu. Three times now. You nodded in understanding. People usually feared what they didn’t understand. You were afraid of it too but you couldn’t exactly hide from what was happening. “I can’t blame him for being concerned. I hurt Liu.”

“Oh, no, Y/N.” Chen seemed surprised by your assumption. “He was worried for you, Y/N. I’m sure that our safety was part of his concern but he thought that a familiar and comforting space might help you. I think he’s worried that the heart thing was his fault.” Chen wiggled her fingers and made a sound to imitate the crack of lightning. You hadn’t considered that. You also hadn’t taken Raiden for the sentimental type. He’d come across as a fatherly man, you supposed, but your father hadn’t been sentimental so your idea of that was skewed. “I just wanted to warn you about the gossip and reassure you that it comes from a place of concern. We really like you, Y/N. You make time for us when many wouldn’t. They’re scared for you but also for themselves.”

“I get that.” You weren’t sure what to say about it. This was all too familiar. You felt so guilty that you weren’t sure how you were going to overcome it. The gossip wouldn’t help, you were sure. Your shoulder ached at the memory. It wasn’t as bad as it had been initially. Chen had briefly showed it to you while changing your bandages. It was literally a crack. “Thanks for the heads up, Chen. You’re always looking out for me.”

“I’m happy to.” Chen sounded nervous and you felt the woman’s gaze flitter from you to the door. “I’m afraid to leave you alone like this. I don’t… I feel like you’re not okay, Y/N.”

“I’m okay, Chen. I promise.” You reassured her. You knew you sounded morose. “I know I don’t sound it, but I’m okay. I’m so grateful that you were here when I woke up. You’re wonderful, even if I give you a hard time about teasing me.”

Chen smiled and offered you another quick hug. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

“We will. I’m going to be fine.” You did your best to sound sincere. You knew that you tended to come off as sarcastic and while you weren’t feeling your best right now, you had to believe that you would be okay. Belief was an incredibly powerful thing, more so than you had ever realized before coming to Raiden’s Temple. “You can go. I promise that I’m okay.”

“I’m trusting you, Y/N. Try and take it slow today. I’ll be in and out to check in on you. I expect you to rest for a few days before going back to the crazy nonsense you’ve been up to.”

“I’ll do my best but I’m not good at sitting and doing nothing. I’m probably going to stretch a bit more before I rest for the night. Maybe take a walk. I promise that I won’t overdo it.” You bowed your head in respectful gratitude. Chen gave you one more hug before leaving you alone. After she left, you meditated and exercised. You needed to be okay.

You would keep fighting until you had nothing left.

[worldsover]

Wintertide Inside ft. Gahyeon

length ✦ 4841

genres ✧ cockwarming; anal; gf!Gahyeon

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Maybe it’s obvious, but you’re thankful for Gahyeon’s ass. A simple contract—if you need a cocksleeve to wrap you or if your girlfriend needs a toy to fill her, neither of you would say no. You’re nominally in charge today but the outcome’s the same either way, with cum seeping from both ends of her tract and your cock sore in the best plight a man can have. 

Swift moans interject her snoring to surface you from your nap, probably because of flashes of biting air that creep in from some draft in the room. Her red crop-top is the only article of clothing on her scrumptious physique while you’re completely stark.  Don’t want to get up so you hold her somehow closer with no worry for your own frigidity. Gahyeon is tiny in your entwine. As you emanate heat from your torso to her back, she returns it tenfold between her legs. 

The incongruity of her pussy is that it’s both uncomfortable and comforting.  Stressfully tight and lovingly wet, while grueling clenches verge on coaxing yet another orgasm from you. Its quaver can be measured in millimeters when your cock etches its shape more permanent. Yesterday’s regrets and tomorrow’s worries become dust in your brain as it toils to memorize each of her inner folds.

Therefore more than the mouthwatering shape or size, you’re grateful for the cushion of her buttcheeks because it rivals your couch’s plushness and distracts you from your imminent peak, your third or fourth today. Losing track is easy when she keeps your cock incarcerated for so long. The threat of climax fades away and returns as quickly while single pulses reiterate how close to the edge you are. No lights on in your living room. Don’t need them. Nothing in your head other than Gahyeon anyway.

Rays spill through the thick curtains and a sliver barely misses her eyes to fall on yours instead. However, she rouses too from her sleep when a pillow between her legs slips to the floor. Nothing funny but you both giggle.

“How’s your nap, babe?” you say. 

She twitches at the warm air tickling her ears, and cold the rest of her skin, but you manage to keep most of your body stationary in Gahyeon’s embrace. Gahyeon yawns and stretches her arms, pushing back on the edge of the couch. “I think I had an amazing dream. Brr.”

“Dummy, you don’t dream until you hit R.E.M.” You point and she bends down to grab the thick blue blanket that fell on the floor. A small hum arises from you at the slight shift in angle. Look at the white clock above the TV and point again. “It’s only been like twenty.”

Gahyeon hands the blanket to you and you swathe it around your two bodies, calming both of your shivers. “Felt like forever. Pff, I was trying to be all romantic.”

“Why be romantic when-” Your words fall to breathy laments when the smoothest swing of her hips turn millimeters of movement to centimeters. The friction from only fractions of your length force a whimper out of her as it does a throb from you.

Gahyeon’s moans turn to more desperate whimpers in kind. Her hand aims below her crop-top and your shaft feels the curious kneading of her fingers below her belly button. Another throb. “Fuck. I still feel your cum inside. It’s almost too much.”

“Then why are you grinding so much? I’m barely running on empty.”

Your head is so fuzzy, you can’t tell how she manages to get on top of you while keeping your cock inside the entire time. For as savory as it is to look or smell or listen to her cute grunts, the only sensation that passes to your mind is her tightness twisting around your shaft. 

Gahyeon sits up and collects a bit of leakage with a finger, provocatively sucking it. “Nice try but I know the taste of your fresh load.”

“Fuck, you make my cock so sensitive. Such a good cumslut.” 

She gulps and bats her eyes so you pull her hair down, and your lips converge. Your core reignites when Gahyeon starts jolting her hips down hard on yours, and you note that her walls aren’t just clingy with your semen but that her pussy is lubricious with girl cum. It’s her turn to be the fucktoy but she’s stalwart in riding you. You’re in no condition to object. 

Gahyeon looks up at the clock and she slows down though not fully arresting her momentum. “Wait a sec, why didn’t you tell me the time?” she says after a thrust and a pant.

You shrug and she blows air out of her lips. Not a mind reader here.

Her pussy almost snaps shut when she gets off you. She steals the blanket while she’s at it. ”Right, should’ve told you to remind me. How am I supposed to focus on the performance later with this in me the whole time?” Gahyeon says, wiping the sticky load dripping from her other lips.

“Man, the blanket’s gonna be sticky now.”

“Sorry babe, I’ll try to do a better job keeping it inside me, okay?”

Stand up and grab some tissues for the fluids coating her groin before you clean yourself the same. You shiver at the air occasionally sweeping the room because you don exactly one less garment than Gahyeon, but it’s about making a statement. It’s your apartment dammit so you can be nude at any hour if you want to be. 

Widen the curtains and suffuse the room with natural white light. Look outside, your undraped stature proud and unsympathetic to the outside world to which you expose yourself. Sky and trees are near monochrome as the snow piles up on the grass which adds to the subtraction of color. 

“You’re so weird,” she says. Your dick flops as you turn around and flaunt your butt to mother nature itself, knowing its coldness towards you isn’t solely metaphorical in this season.

“This is our first winter together, my first new year in my own apartment. I have to be excited.” You raise your arms.

“Fair. You wouldn’t be here without me.” A signature curly smile and she joins your side to admire the snowy sight, letting you share in some—no, not all—of the warmness of the blanket.

“I mean if we were normal, I wouldn’t have left.” You hug Gahyeon and give her a smooch on her forehead. “But I needed my own place for my little cum-hungry, cum-greedy cockwarmer.”

Pink always spreads her cheeks at your brazen words. Her tummy presses on your softening cock and brings it back to life but she backs away. Gahyeon brings the back of each of her hands to her sides. “Right, speaking of which. Can I take one of my panties from your drawer?”

“You didn’t bring any? Hold on, that was supposed to be a secret!” you say.

“Yeah, obviously I know about them, stupid. You didn’t even notice when I packed a couple in there myself when you moved, did you?” 

She’s right, you didn’t, so shake your head. Gahyeon giggles then gives you the blanket again before she heads to your room. “I’ll be back soon, okay!” she yells while you fiddle with the thermostat. 

Grab some tortilla chips from the pantry then sit on the couch bundled in the blanket and turn to a channel that’s just playing a loop of a fireplace. At least the crackling sounds realistic with your speakers. 

In only a few minutes, she already has a full winter outfit on, a bright tomato that would stand out sorely in the snow. The apartment is already a lot mellower so you put the blanket away to wash later. Gahyeon is enticing no matter what she wears but you’re warm inside seeing your girlfriend wrapped up, though warmth also comes from the humiliation finally setting in from the contrast between her state of dress and yours.

“Did you hear me? I said I’ll be back soon.”

“Come on, the apartment isn't that big.” Get up to kiss her goodbye. ”Hurry back. There should be plenty of sun left and I wanna see the sun shine on your face with my cock in it.”

Open your laptop on your coffee table and promise to yourself that you’ll finish editing that teaser. It’s just a little distraction when you pore over videos you worked on recently, just reviewing your work to get ideas for how to cut. However, like a good and fully whipped man, one thing leads to another, one Dreamcatcher music video later—you’re proud of working on that one—and you’re back to the fancams of your girlfriend dancing. A similar, but less revealing crop-top, brief black shorts that strut the beautiful width of her thighs that you live between. Losing much weight, they’re still ample enough to stifle your cock on their own, without her amazing pussy’s help. Your erection should be exhausted but it returns at the sight of the jiggling. Two hands begin their work as Fly High plays.

A fluffy red jacket slams into your head. “You slob, put some clothes on!”

“What are you doing home?”

“Look at all the snow! What are you doing naked?”

“It’s my apartment, dang it! You know I’m naked all the time.” Didn’t mean to raise your tone there but she looks a touch distressed. You run up to her and give her a heavy drawn-out embrace.

“Babe,” she says, a little reluctant in the hug.

“I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.”

“No babe, it’s fine.”

“I was jerking it to you if it helps.”

“That doesn’t help, stupid. You’re gonna get this dress messy!” Gahyeon grabs your dick which leaks some precum. She bites her lip.

“Oh, sorry,” you say. You back off and retrieve the parka that fell on the floor and from all its pockets spill condoms like a deck of cards and a bad hand.

“Holy shit,” Gahyeon says. Whatever minute ire that remains burns away at her adorable laughter mixing with yours.

“Fuck, imagine if someone caught you with those.”

“Shit. Yoobin almost put her hand in my pocket for no reason.”

“Nah, she would’ve laughed just as hard.”

“You’re right.” Gahyeon bends down to pick the condoms up and you take your sweet time to help her. “We haven’t used these in so long,” she says.

“You wanna? Old time’s sake? Ha, fuck no.” Feeling bad for making her do all that work to appreciate her ass even in the baggiest pants possible, you spank her.  Wait, that’s not the solution. ”You should change first. I’ll clean up.”

There’s grey shorts and a plain white shirt in the dryer, so grab them. Gahyeon returns with her hair in twin buns, a short pink skirt and a white long sleeve half-shirt that manages to show off her cleavage from the top and the bottom.

“I hope that’s not a stage outfit.”

“Of course not. I just wanted to look more like a dumb slut for your dick.”

And with that, thoughts empty. As she crawls towards you, grab a wad of her hair. “So it’s like that today. Well shit, good job.”

“Thank you!” Only the corners of Gahyeon’s lips turn. “A good toy only has one purpose.” 

Fulfill that purpose and shove her head down to its rightful place. Gahyeon takes a single stroke into her throat, with nary a sound as she takes the entire length into her practice throat, but she pulls her lips back up to your cockhead. “You’ll be good there?” you say.

“Mhm,” she says with her usual mouthful.

You get a bit of video cutting done for an hour or so with her lips on your cock head, occasionally patting her head. Occasional moans slip out but you keep focused and erect at the same time. At some point during your work, you offer her one of your earphones to listen to your synthwave music. Despite maintaining an enthusiastic hold on your tip, Gahyeon looks a little tired from kneeling so long.

“Aww, baby, do your knees hurt?”

“Mm, I’m fine,” she mumbles while keeping her lips on your tip.

“Why are you pouting a little then?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, come here.”

Stoop to give her a passionate, drawn-out kiss, though it always turns out the same. You realize how long you could do nothing but make out with your girlfriend. You love the way Gahyeon competes with you, where your tongues battle and you each threaten to suck the air out of each other’s lungs. It’s impossible to keep your heart’s pace steady and you’d be remiss for your hands not to dig into every inch of her skin as she wanders the same on you.

Of course, there’s only one place those hands could lead to. Smack. You swear her ass ripples. “Now get back to sucking slut.”

You wipe the drool off your face but you interrupt her doing the same; she looks good messy. Gaheyon lays on the couch with her head on your lap. You can’t see her face but if she needs to get a better angle to watch Knowing Bros, then so be it. Her lips fasten your cock just the same. She sticks her ass up and a reflective circle seals her asshole.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Friend got it for Christmas, secret Santa.”

“Bora?”

“Mhmmmm-” Gahyeon draws out the vibration of the last consonant on your cock. 

A couple of hours later, you finish your work and send emails.  Once in a while you stroke her hair but she gives more suction in response, sending you ever closer to release. How greedy of her, she’s certainly swallowed enough cum just from premature singular pulses but Gahyeon doesn’t stop when you lay down the law and slap her ass.

“Whose turn is it. huh?”

Every hit of her ass emboldens her sucking, as she goes deeper.

“So you wanna be a brat? I said, whose turn is it!”

She gags for the first time in a while, spewing much spit, when you pull slowly but abruptly on the shiny buttplug after slapping her ass a final time. Lube spills out.

Gahyeon breathes heavy breaths on your cock. “Fuck. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Woah. Now that’s new.” 

“I guess it just came out naturally. Sir.” She licks up the froth on your cock.

“I don’t mind if you say it.” You circle her asshole with your finger and taste the lube. Sugary but you can’t think of the flavor. Not that you can think of much of anything.

“Only if you call me ma’am when it’s my turn.”

“Deal.”

“Thank you sir.”

She keeps your cock snug in her mouth. Browse your phone and decide to get some Jjamppong delivered, perfect for the cold.

“Gahyeon? Babe?”

Was she really? Incredible. She manages to doze off with a cock filling her mouth. That’s new. For all the times you’ve fallen asleep during tantric sex, it’s always been inside her pussy or asshole. How she incessantly drools while her head wriggles nearly makes you unload on her unconscious tongue but you hold it in, allowing only a few spurts to leak.

Unfortunately, you have to wake her up when you get the order from the door. You have to get some final work done but she eats dinner, sitting your dick. Your laptop is on her lap while you rest your chin on her neck. Tickled, Gahyeon giggles in between slurps of noodles. The lack of movement agonizes both of you but it keeps you focused. You could spend all day fucking each other; in fact, you have.

The winter sunset lights your room the colors of candy like artificial strawberry and sweet tangerines, though snow still storms down to desaturate the world. You’ve had enough productivity for one day. Gahyeon shares the soup with you, but after she sets the bowl down, she twists her hips in a quick motion and you explode without warning. Five or six? It’s only a curt removal of your soul from existence but you puff and pant anyway.

“Fuck, I’m sorry sir. I should’ve warned you.”

“It’s fine.”

“But I can’t let this cum go to waste, can I?” At some point during your orgasm, she withdrew herself and now she’s licking up and down your soft shaft to clean any cum that you didn’t shoot inside. “Damn, I just wanted to get my vibrator.”

“It’s okay Gahyeon, get it. I. I definitely need some time to recover.”

“I guess even you have your limits.” She grins, then leaves for the bedroom.

Gahyeon returns and a loop of a pink wire sticks out from her pussy. Now the only thing she wears is that thin strip of a top. Take off your shirt to match. “The egg this time?” you say.

She nods. “Here’s the remote.”

Get your Switch and play some Smash while she washes some dishes and organizes clothes that she’s brought over. Apparently you mix your clothes with hers often, which shouldn’t be such an issue considering how different your sizes are. Every time you lose a game, you turn on the vibrator for a few moments. You get a kick out of watching her buckle. If only you could do this while she performs live.

“You wanna head to the bedroom? It’s getting dark, uff.” A quick press of the highest setting and Gahyeon’s knees knock together. It never takes too long for you to get hard again when you see her put all effort into standing. “You- Ahhh, fuck, I love you. I hate you.”

Maybe it’s because you have yet to turn the intensity down. With a full hand on her ass and the other on her back, carry her to the bedroom but her wriggling hobbles you. An early left turn.

“I already showered earlier. Sir, please I’m getting so sensitive.” Gahyeon rotates through many different faces, from agony to excitement to pleasure. 

Set her down in the hot tub and her crop-top lands in the laundry basket perfectly.

“Nice throw.” Gahyeon high-fives you. She almost distracted you with that great throw. “Tsk. You’re still keeping that vibrator in you. Just what you deserve for making me cum when I didn’t even finish eating.”

Your apartment is relatively small for its price, but there were certainly no expenses spared for the bathroom. Both your shower and your jacuzzi could fit three people. It has the biggest panes of glass and provides no privacy but you love the ambiance especially during a night shower. Gahyeon’s moaning goes from having a quick rhythm to intense, long held notes. She’s playing with herself in any way that she can to make her climax, manically stroking her clit while she teases pulling the metallic plug in her ass. Turn off the lights and cocoa candles fill the scent of the room. Finally, remove her vibrator and buttplug.

“So fucking yummy. Come here,” you say, holding her neck carefully as you get in the tub to crash your lips into hers. After what feels like hours of kissing even if it is only a few minutes, you lay down in the hot-tub and Gahyeon straddles your thighs. 

“So which is going to be?” She glances next to the sink. ”Guess the lube isn’t for my pussy. Wait, why’d you turn on the water? It’s gonna wash away the lube. Woah, isn’t it my turn-” 

When you pull her groin up to your face, extra force on her clit shuts her up and nearly instantly drives her to orgasm. Gahyeon always grabs your hair and locks her legs together when you make her cum with your tongue but especially after all the stimulation of the vibrator, you have difficulty breathing. It’s worth it. She whimpers as your lips work relentlessly on her pussy but you settle down after a while. Hot jets of water blast on your back along with her legs. Gahyeon continues riding your face while she talks about her performance. Apparently the snow had a lot of the production people hold up. She brings a dewfall and you could taste her syrup forever but your cock aches once again. Maybe it’s asking you to chill out and that it needs a break, but if that were true, it wouldn’t be as hard as ever. 

“I’ve had enough of your pussy today,” you say.

“Really sir? Didn’t know that was possible.” Gahyeon needs no directions, your tongue licking up her body as your hands pull her last garment away.

“Siri, play relaxing radio. I’m staying in your ass until I cum.”

The middle of an R&B chorus plays. You get up to take the lube and Gahyeon drains the tub until only a little water remains. Her fingers wander and she vigorously rubs her clit while a curious thumb circles her asshole. Take a glob of the vanilla flavored lube and spread it on your fingers. Gahyeon sucks on your index, which goes straight to her asshole. Its wetness helps the tight ring expand slowly around it and the familiar pucker on your finger excites you. Get underneath her so that she’s laying on top of you while you sit back against the tub.

“God. I’m never getting used to how big you are.”

There it is. The tip of your cock vanishes into her tight asshole and you try to hold in a high whine, though Gahyeon lets out plenty of squeals as lube makes the entrance slick, squishy noises. Let her ass sink in with only her weight and it wraps down your shaft inch by throbbing inch. At last. She’s all the way down. If only you could see her face, but the position is comfortable and you get the pleasure of sucking on her neck while playing with her tits from behind.

The glow from the moon finds an angle into your room, mixing candle flame yellows with its white. Fierce winds push the falling snow outside of your window sideways. You’re warm nonetheless.

Midnight, the radio says as a new host talks about the inclement weather, but it’s not enough to keep you from kissing up and down Gahyeon’s back. Play with her nipples and the miniscule action not only gets them hard, but makes her ass’s folds react and roll to the pleasure. The breeze blows, a more important sound manages to distract you.

“Sir, do you hear that?” Gahyeon says.

“Yeah!” You hum along to the melody of Jazz Bar. “Hey, that’s you singing.”

“It’s not even one of our title tracks. I have to tell the members.” 

Gahyeon almost gets up from her but her head turns and shakes, realizing your thickness twitching as she almost fully unsheathes her ass. “Fuck.”

“Hold on. What’d I tell you?”

“Oh shit. Sorry. Sir. I can tell them later.”

“You know what. Just for that.” Pick her up, holding her thighs carefully to keep your cock in her asshole. The position is awkward, but you manage to lay her down prone without withdrawing your erection. 

“God, I love the way your cock hits.” All agreements and contracts are lost when you look at how the fat and muscle collects in Gahyeon’s full ass. A single thrust in and you can see the weight of the smack of your groin on her cheeks, so you endeavor to learn more about physics, even during the snow day. Slam into her and as you go in and out, Gahyeon yells and swears louder and louder, threatening to let all the neighbors know. No, of course they already know. It makes your eye contact with them hilariously awkward and it makes Gahyeon’s mask and disguise even more necessary.

“What a bad girl,” you say with a powerful shove.  ”Can’t even be a good cockwarmer, god.” Plunge and dive, your cock tries its best to widen her asshole but no matter what, it strangles your shaft taut. “Your butthole is just too. Fucking. Tempting.”

“Yes! Yes! Sir please, I’m going to- I’m just about to. Fuck. Shit I was so close.”

Chuckle at seeing her distraught face. “I’m getting some beer. Also, I want to finish in the bedroom. More comfy.”

She takes a minute to find her breathing but she gets up and grabs the lube. “Don’t have work tomorrow?” Gahyeon says.

“Lemme check.” When you both get to the bedroom, you check your phone. Nothing til noon. Perfect. Grab some beer in the minifridge in the corner of the room, while Gahyeon fixes her hair and lays down on the bed. She pats the mattress with both hands next to her. Missionary, it is then.

A hand to her chin. “Wait a second, didn’t you say you weren’t leaving my ass until you came. Hmm,” Gahyeon says. She gives a quick smooch and smiles naughtily. You could stare at her lips upturning all day. It’s her signature weapon.

Take a sip of the bottle of Cass. “What are you gonna do about it?” She digs her nails into your back to pull you and your cock finds the purchase of her asshole anew. In between thrusting motions, you take bigger swigs of the beer and offer some to her. She spills a bit on her tits and you lick it up. Suck on her tits as she pounds her ass into your erection. 

“Stretch me out, fuck me harder. Harder, sir!”

“God, mmmm, ugh., ugh.” Can’t speak much anymore.  Both of you love dirty talk, Gahyeon especially knows how to whisper to tickle your ear but she also knows how to scream to get your instinctive side out. You hold her neck as you hold the bottle, careful and secure. Her tightly drawn anus responds the same as her pussy when you choke her, as they each try frenetically to wring you dry. However, the friction of her ass, even with all the lube, arouses your cock harder somehow. This is the life you chose, in a way the most tiring work you could ever imagine.

Gahyeon grabs tighter and her whole body ripples at the force that you both put in. Not a single qualm about your lifestyle. Any pretense of space between you two is gone as every inch of your skin slaps against each other. A final gulp from the bottle.

“Right there, right there, yes sir, baby. Cum with me!”

There isn’t much of you left but it’s still a flash freeze, a blizzard and pouring hail slamming into you when you cum, and she shakes doubly so in her orgasm as she’s had double yours today. The throb of your shaft doesn’t match the squeezing rhythm of her sphincter and inner walls which makes your cock spurt with more intensity than you could think possible, even bearing your stamina. Your sticky semen replaces the slippery lube inside her ass but you didn’t need its stickiness to slow your rhythm as your dick gets softer. You let minutes pass anyway to feel her muscles react to the load sloshing around and so that it’s not as difficult to extricate your softness from her greedy butthole, though it takes a slow removal anyway with its tightness. Both of you limp over and Gahyeon is fast asleep, but you scramble to return the buttplug and keep the cum inside.

“Keep warm! It’s going to be like this all winter. Tomorrow, it’ll be a high of -5 and a low of -20 and that snow will keep piling up-” Turn down the volume so that it’s not muted but soft enough that you can hear the wind howl past your windows just as loud. Nothing amazes you more than the tiny idol asleep and cutely snoring while her pussy throttles your shaft. Looking at Gahyeon’s ass and feeling her shake it as you try to fall asleep, something tells you it’ll be the warmest winter you’ll ever have.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Something quick with my favorite kink for my second favorite in Dreamcatcher. Also got a draft for my ultimate bias but that’ll take time as well. Woops, yet another thing to procrastinate on while I shirk on both real life and writing.

[quirklessidiot]

Title: daddy’s first day [coward series au] Pairing: F!Reader x Miya Atsumu Genre: fluff, parents au, slice of life au Synopsis: In which Miya Atsumu takes charge of taking care of the kids for a day Warnings: none!

notes; you don’t need to read coward tbh to read this chapter, its just miya atsumu navigating his life as a daddy hshsshs [side stories are updated every friday] read the series here!  [ ss;; one, two, three, four ]

“...Remember that Youta is allergic to shrimps and Yuuto’s got sensitive skin, I have all the medication in case anything happens and Yuuto has his soap in the bathroom in a separate container, just make sure that the water isn’t too cold nor too hot and remind him to wear sunscreen every two hours.” You explain, placing the last of your valuables in your bag “...I’m also on speed dial and you also have the number of their pediatricians on your number 2 speed dial, I also have the food in the tupperware prepared the night before-”

“Y/N, sweetheart, please calm down. I’m not going to kill our kids when you’re gone for the next nine hours.” he frowns at how distrusting you were towards him. okay, he admitted that he may have hated the boys at first but that was before. They were your kids now, that was totally different! They weren’t some random brats on the street! You should have a little faith in him!

“Atsumu, you almost burned down the house while making scrambled eggs.” You expressed, a glint of amusement on your eyes, “Would you like me to call ‘samu-san or Daiki-san?”

He scoffed at the mention of those two men, after ‘samu found out that he was actually an Uncle of those kids, he suddenly had a one hundred sixty degree change of attitude. Of course, Atsumu was happy that you guys got along and the kids seemed to start warming up to him but it seemed like you trusted ‘samu  more these days and that daiki too.

“Alright, just help them with their homework and heat up the food okay? I have everything prepared.” You leaned in to give him a quick peck on the temple before leaving. He watches you leave the house in a hurry for work with a frown on his lips.

Married life with you was easy, you were like a superwoman. A great mom, a great co-worker, even a greater wife. How come he couldn’t be as half as good as you? Like be a cool dad to your kids or something? He couldn’t even cook the damn eggs well and there you were, making some Michelin star cuisine while making your kids happy and content and your work life thriving.

“Oh,” Yuuto’s brow is scrunched together as he exits his shared room with his brother, see, that’s what he gets from the kids, awkwardness and insults (mostly insults,really), “You know ever since you came back, ‘kaasan’s always been busy and hasn’t been spending time with us.”

“Yeah.” Youta yawns, scratching his eyes as he exits the room, “You even make bad food, I think you should just keep playin’ volleyball or something.”

Atsumu feels a tick on his forehead, they were definitely his sons that’s for sure.

“I’m trying here.”

Yuuto stifles as chuckle at his father’s reply, wanting to comfort him, he told him a little fact that their ojisan told him recently, “Sure you are,  you’re doing a lot better than okaasan, Daiki-ojisan said okaasan didn’t know how to hold us until we were three or four.” the eight year old grinned.

Atsumu grabs a tupperware from the fridge that’s labelled ‘breakfast’ and proceeds to heat it up on the microwave, “I’m sure that’s a lie. Your okaasan seems to do very well now, it’s hard to imagine her messing up.”

He watches them eat their egg rolls and bacon, time flies quick these days. The boys were already eight years old and were getting more and more into volleyball. Youta exclaimed he wanted to be a pro like him while Yuuto wanted to be like you (although he still played volleyball a lot because he had the competitive streak thanks to his father)

“Can we invite Tobio-ojisan on our birthday?” Yuuto asks while Atsumu rolls his eyes, he can’t believe that this kid still idolized that idiot. He beated him thrice already! (okay, Tobio had beated him five times including high school nationals but still)

“Oh also, Shoyou-ojisan then we can play against them!” Youta grins, mouth stuffed with egg rolls. Atsumu grimaces at him then grabs a napkin to wipe off the rice on the side of his lip, “How are you guys not impressed by me?” their father grumbles.

“You’re our otosan.” Yuuto deadpanned.

“Yeah, we see you everyday.” Youta added.

After helping the kids out in the bath (especially Yuuto since apparently he needed a temp check for the water), he had them do their projects and assignments (you had a long list on what they should accomplish today and one of them was a science planetary object)

The thing is though, he wasn’t very good at that.

He ended up having ‘samu on speaker to help the kids as they choked on their laughter because their otosan still thought that Pluto was a planet.

It also didn’t help when their math assignments came up, oh boy, Youta had a problem with one number and when he tried to explain to Atsumu that there was a new way to solve that and that their sensei had told them to solve it that way, he got pissed, “I don’t know that way! Why would they change math?  MATH IS MATH!” He screeches at the notebook as if it had done something wrong to him.

Safe to say, Yuuto had a field day as he watched his otosan frustratingly solve the math problem whilst muttering something about how math was complicated and they didn’t need to change up the equations. Youta, on the other hand,  had to calm him down and tell him they could just use the old way to solve the problem.

“...I want pizza.”

“Your mom left us dinner.”

“It says here on the note that you have to bake it in the oven.” Yuuto reads out loud, “ ‘Samu-ojisan says that you shouldn’t touch an oven though.”

Atsumu feels like he’s aging quick because of these two kids, how is it that they were such angels to you but little devils towards him? “...when they’re angels, they’re Y/N’s kids but when they become devils, they’re yours.” ‘Samu jokes.

Ah, he felt his forehead tick on that statement. He had some pretty redeeming qualities that he passed on to his kids like his looks and skills in volleyball! 

“Otosan, I don’t think you should put the tupperware in the oven.”

“I know what I’m doing here.”

Clearly, he didn’t. He ended up melting the plastic tupperware and having to call for takeout right after. The three of them looked at the melted tupperware and the food spillage in the oven, “Okaasan really likes those tupperwares.” Youta points out.

“I’ll buy her ten new ones.” Atsumu grimaced at the food in the oven, he should clean that and get rid of all the evidence when you come home in an hour. In fact, he should just buy a new oven because he thinks the smell is permanent there, “Wanna watch a movie before you go to bed? I promise I’ll cover for you.”

“You just don’t want us to tell okaasan that you melted her tupperware.” Yuuto pointed out.

“Pffft…” Atsumu laughs, pretending to shake it off, “I would not.”

“Extra scoop of ice cream on Sunday.”

“Yeah!” Youta echoes.

Atsumu narrows his eyes, “Deal.”

They ended up sprawling on the couch after putting on their pajamas. The kids sip their milk next to him, after seeing Kageyama drinking loads of it, the boys decided that if a big boy like Kageyama Tobio could drink milk, they could to (Osamu crackles because they didn’t seem to listen to Atsumu lecturing them about the benefits of milk) Halfway through the movie, the kids fell asleep and the blonde feels his eyes shut soon after too. 

You come in quietly as you notice the quiet chatter of the TV and the figures of your three boys on the couch, all snuggled together. Your heart immediately softens as soon as you see the domestic scene in front of you. Something you probably never could imagine before, your boys. You take a picture before waking your husband up with a light kiss on the jaw, “You look like you had a fun day.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

“I hate math assignments.” was all he could reply.

You silently chuckled as you picked up Youta, “I’ll put the kids to bed, mind running me a bath?”

“Can I join in?” Atsumu suddenly awakened as soon as he heard what you said, a smirk dancing on his lips, “Save water and all that?”

“Are you really going with me in the tub?” You narrowed your eyes, “Last time we did that together, we ended up having two kids.”

“What’s another two more?”

“Miya Atsumu.”

taglist [officially closed, if you guys want to be removed for the side stories, feel free to tell me hehe ilyasm and thank you once again, coward wouldn’t be possible without all you people + other readers]

@fortheloveofiwaizumi ;  @svtbitch  ; @kiyoomile ; @lovedanii​ ; @juno-multifandom​ ; @gyubit17​ ; @saeranoppa​ ; @nixxona​ ; @kyomihann​ @shorttstackk​ ; @intoomuchfandoms​ ; @yammmers​ ; @mx-minxx​ @itsmattsunshinehere​ ; @missingmystogan​ ; @volleybloop​ ; @imcravingyou​ ; @yams-wants-that-booty ; @liathachcapricious​ ; @pinknugget​ @seikamuzu​ ; @marigoldthoughts​ ; @sillykittt​ ; @baejinoffcl​ ; @alluring-akaashi​ ; @bnhasstuff​  ; @intheawks​ ; @bokuakadaily​ ; @agaassi​ ; @yams046​  ; @dope-squish ; @chrisrue15​ ; @vermillionwaves​ ; @demursv1ogs​ ; @just-snog-already ; @angmarwitch  ; @simpingonothers ; @woo-youngs ; @cowward ; @chaelysian ; @sempiternal-amour ; @jungshookmeup ; @jovialnoise ; @karlitabi-rrito ; @iwaizluv ; @sugarandsoft ; @tspice283 ; @ohshirabu ; @syzygymai ; @volleybloop ; @oikaw-ugh ; @pockytokyo ;  @differentballooncollection ;  @keniloveshaikyuu ; @turquoiselace ; @playboygeniusphilanthropist ;   @keijislut ; @notyourbitchboy​

@misosamu  @Etherynaw  @ryaaaax @allysasteaparty   @mikaashi  @brownie0food @ph10xy  @Chocolaterumble [hi, i can’t seem to tag u guys, i think you need to open your tags uwu]

[rhydium]

fuck it starfinite drabble

its 12pm n i haven't slept, @ the two (2) other fans of these dumbasses come get yall juice ig ???? played around w/ a concept i had n figured i'll just ... post it. why not. this takes place in my android infinite au, pre-relationship!! u don't rly need context other than that tbh ((but feel free to ask me abt it i will gladly infodump))

cw: loss of limb (infinite's arm; it gets reattached), references to blood n stuff in the context of intrusive thoughts. please lmk if i need more!!

×

"what on earth were you thinking?" starline near shouts, his voice exasperated, shaky with adrenaline. he's angry and he's afraid and it's, it's stupid, really, he can fix this, but his hands tremble as he rummages through his toolbox, eyes darting over to infinite; missing their right arm, wires sparking, broken and it's sickening. he has to look away again. breathe.

"you can't keep... you — you're being too reckless!"

"i don't have much other choice." infinite says, so simply, so infuriatingly calm, so calm, such disregard for the fact they just had a limb blown off.

starline finds the last screwdriver he needs, but continues to sift around, poking and prodding and inspecting wrenches as if he's still looking for something. if he stops that means having to face this and he isn't ready — he needs to, but he can't.

"why?" he asks, ignoring the way his voice cracks, swallows the dry lump in his throat, "why, infinite?"

"is it really not obvious?"

starline grits his teeth, squeezes his eyes shut. his hands grip the edge of the box. "no!! it isn't!"

"i can be repaired. rebuilt. you can't. it's not that complicated. if one of us gets hit then logically it should be me."

his chest seizes as the words sink in, sink through his skin and down, down, down into his stomach like a stone; his gut churns and twists with guilt.

no... no, that's —

"that's stupid!" starline hisses. that self-sacrificing, idiotic...!

he whips around, locking eyes with infinite, don't look at their arm, don't look at it, don't look at the socket.

"don't speak like that. ever again."

whether it's his expression, his tone, infinite seems taken aback, almost appearing to flinch. they stare at him, frowning, though in a way more indicative of confusion than anger.

"like what?"

"like you're disposable!!"

...fuck.

there's a long moment of silence after starline's outburst. he pulls in a deep breath, pinches the bridge of his bill, averting his eyes to the floor, anywhere else, anywhere but infinite. he thinks about apologising — he shouldn't have yelled like that — but infinite is, this can't continue, they're being nonsensical, they keep endangering themselves, it can't.

"i... you just don't get it, do you?" he murmurs, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. a small, strained laugh escapes his throat, voice thin. "do you have any idea how it makes me feel, watching you get hurt like this?? throwing yourself around like some kind of — like a living shield??"

he's not going to cry. starline is not about to cry.

"you... could have died." infinite says quietly. "all those times, and today, if i hadn't stepped in — for you those blows would have been life changing, if not fucking fatal. do you know how that makes me feel, star?! i can't let that happen. it's so easy to just, imagine you laying there, not moving, the blood, and..." their fingers — god, the ones they still have — twitch restlessly. infinite picks at their claws.

starline can hardly restrain the choked noise that fights its way out of him.

they're doing this for him, to protect him, this is all his —

"it's not your fault." infinite speaks firmly, as if sensing his thought process. "but objectively..." they wave a hand, sighing, "you know? this doesn't even hurt me."

"it hurts me." starline exhales through his nose wearily. "emotionally."

"i'd rather you be a bit emotionally distressed than dead," infinite scoffs softly, "let me repeat; the damage i take isn't permanent or painful. you, on the other hand, are one accident from being... i don't even want to imagine it."

"then what am i supposed to do?!"

"be more careful and i won't have to get involved." infinite shrugs.

starline groans.

"why does it bother you so much?"

"are you kidding?!"

the lack of response would point toward no, apparently.

"because i care about you, you absolute fool!"

infinite falters for a moment.

"...but. i'm not in pain. i can be fixed. what are you afraid of?"

starline gazes at them wordlessly.

i'm afraid one day i won't be able to fix you.

i'm afraid i'm going to lose you.

i'm terrified of losing you because i love you but you don't know that and you can't know that.

"...star?"

"i — look, forget it. i just, i don't want to talk about this anymore, i need to repair your arm."

"you're hiding something."

"aren't you perceptive..." starline can't help but mutter.

"are you okay?"

does it look like it?

"i'm fine."

"could at least put a little effort into it if you're going to lie." infinite mumbles.

"would you just...!" starline takes a deep breath. "be quiet. please."

infinite briefly opens their mouth as if preparing to protest, but ultimately falls silent. they look away, absently staring off at the far window.

starline grabs his tools. he just... has to focus on work. this will probably take a while, he realises. it's easily the most damage infinite has ever taken — at least during their time with him. he's worked with robotics a long time, but infinite is a highly advanced android, and they require extra care, presicion.

infinite's shoulder sparks again. they don't react.

"...you really don't feel anything, do you?"

infinite raises a brow.

oh. right. i told them not to talk.

they shake their head, and starline nods, uttering a quiet "sorry."

no reply.

"can i... start the repair?"

"...you're not just going to go ahead and do it?"

"no. never. listen, i've made habit of asking for your consent and i have no intention of breaking it. it's your body."

"...i don't mind."

"alright."

starline supresses a sigh and begins to tackle the rather daunting task of fixing up and reattaching infinite's lost arm, which has been laying motionless on the table for the past ten minutes. despite the lack of blood, absence of stench, as would be had if infinite was organic, it's still disturbing somehow. he shivers at the thought of dealing with dismembered flesh, of muscle and bone, and finds himself suddenly a lot more appreciative that infinite is an artificial being.

despite the knowledge infinite can't actually feel any of what he's doing, starline proceeds slowly, gently. regardless of whether they can feel it, their body deserves to be treated with respect. he fiddles with their wires delicately between his fingers, turns bolts and adjusts joints with only as much firmness as necessary, apologises when he has to snap certain supports back into place. now and then, he glances at infinite, who looks oddly tense, contemplative... uncertain.

"are you... uncomfortable?"

"what...? no, i... i told you i can't feel it, didn't i?" they say distantly.

"well — yes, but, what about mentally? are you alright...? do you want me to stop? i'm sorry that these procedures are so... invasive, and it probably, after —"

— no, no, what are you doing don't bring that up —

"...ah. nevermind."

infinite blinks, as if processing his words, and then their expression shifts in understanding.

"you're fine. i mean, this is.... i'm fine." they affirm.

"...okay."

"i mean it. it's... you're nothing like him."

there was once a time starline would have found such a statement insulting. nowadays, he can't be more relieved infinite thinks as such. he adjusts his glasses and continues tinkering away, figuring he won't get much else out of them, at least for now. whatever is on their mind, he'll let it be. the rest of the repair goes smoothly, time passing in a silence that is isn't uncomfortable, nor fully comfortable. he can't help but feel bad about the... was it an argument? he isn't sure, really. maybe that's what infinite was thinking about...?

as he wraps things up, closing the last panel on their forearm and preparing to request that infinite run through a few tests to make sure everything is working correctly, they finally speak; though it isn't anything starline was expecting them to say.

"you could destroy me," infinite utters softly, and they just kind of... look at him, something in their eyes that starline can't put a name to. "if you wanted to. you could rip me apart from the inside."

"i... guess i could." starline murmurs, his fingers lightly trailing over the panel, hidden beneath infinite's fur, the only sign of its existence being several small ridges and the bump of a screw head. "does that scare you?"

infinite smiles. "it's terrifying." they reply. "to allow myself to be so vulnerable... to — to want to let my guard down."

starline blinks in surprise.

to want to...? they want to let me in?

"then why...?" he tilts his head curiously. his hand stills, but lingers where it is.

infinite shrugs loosely. "it's you."

oh.

starline, don't you even think about it, that isn't what they mean...!

he clears his throat awkwardly.

"er... is that... supposed to explain it?"

"it's all i've got." infinite replies. the small quirk of their lips broadens a bit, and they chuckle. "sorry."

...starline finds himself smiling back.

god, he's tired, the past hour has been immeasurably draining, but... this, this makes it all worth it. seeing them like that... it lifts all the stress, the anxiety. he feels lighter.

"thank you."

"huh?"

"for trusting me. i know it... must take a lot."

infinite shifts their hand — the one that hadn't been damaged — and hesitantly, very slowly reaches over. they look between starline's hand still resting on their inner arm, just above the wrist, starline's eyes, his hand again, and starline goes to withdraw — but before he can do so, infinite places their own over it.

"thank you." they whisper. "for treating me kindly. for treating me like... a person."

starline's breath catches in his throat. oh god, he cannot mess this up. infinite never — they never initiate contact like this, ever. he can't scare them away, he knows it's difficult for them to be touched, let alone how much faith they're showing in him to touch, and he will not squander all their progress. nothing will ruin this moment.

"you are one."

"...i care about you too, star."

"i — what?"

"you said earlier that you cared about me. i care about you too," they elaborate, a flicker in their eyes, this time something starline recognises, as quickly as it's hidden again; fondness. a very specific kind of fondness that... no — he isn't sure if he's imagining this or not. he has to be. surely, he's making it up. wishful thinking, seeing what one wants to.

"...a lot. more than you know." infinite finishes.

starline gazes into their eyes steadily, searching, trying to find it again. infinite stares back, almost like they're looking for something, too. oh, how easy it would be; to lean down, move in, to kiss them, but starline is not going there. he has no confirmation infinite likes him like, well, that and, it would be far too fast even if they did. not to mention he certainly wouldn't do it without asking.

"...you're hiding something too, aren't you?" starline settles for asking vaguely.

infinite's eyes widen slightly, then glitter mysteriously, amused.

"aren't you perceptive?"

[carnelianns]

hi! i really loved your hcs about mc making depreciative jokes, could you please do that for isaac, mozart, vincent and comte please? thank you!

anon was talking about this post if anyone’s interested .. also this is so long (*´ー｀*)

tw: anxiety, depression

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Mozart is very supportive in his own, roundabout way, and also has quite the humour (or lack of it — you’re not really sure) so when you do make one of your infamous jokes, you always have to think whether or not to take his reply seriously.

“Are you alright?” You nod, shooting him some finger guns. “Yeah, I’m totally fine, just need to set myself on fire is all.” 

He stares, the silence stretching out for a while, then, “Do you need help with that?”

When your self-depreciation does, however, fall on the slightly more serious side, all he can do is frown at your silence, mind running miles and miles to find something that could get you to show him that smile he’s fallen for once again.

Because, he admits, nothing pains him more than knowing the one he loves, the one he’s decided to lean on, is facing struggles he can barely wrap his head around.

“Can you.. hold my hand?” Meek and tiny is your voice as it breaks the silence of his room, Mozart preparing a teasing remark before he turns his head, the sight of your weary eyes and forlorn expression bringing his mouth to a close.

Wordlessly, he moves from his desk towards your snug form on his bed, taking it upon himself to hold your hand in his larger ones, gently shifting your head to rest comfortably in his lap as he soothingly rubs slow, soothing circles on the skin of your hand — just the way you like it.

When he hears your soft sigh of bliss, he allows his motions to continue in silence for a few more moments, before voicing out with furrowed brows, “Why did you suddenly ask for my hand?”

Mozart feels you tense up briefly, though he makes no move to stop his calming ministrations. Said ministrations only come to a pause when you reply.

“It might sound silly but… I felt like if I didn’t feel your warmth, you’d leave. Slip away, like you do so frequently in my thoughts.”

“I’ve never met someone as foolish as you in my whole life,” he mutters lowly. You’re a second away from frowning when he brings his soft fingers to your face, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

There was a certain look of pain in those violet eyes of his, the frown you deemed unfit on his face communicating each and every thought filtering through his brain. Vulnerability was never something Mozart paraded around, yet that exact quality seems to be the only thing he ought to show to you at this moment.

“Why would I ever leave the only person I wish happiness upon every waking second?” His cheeks only redden as he continues, not once leaving your gaze, “I would never leave you. Get that fact into your terribly tiny brain.”

Despite his aversion to, well, affection, Mozart had, in one way or the other, made his words clear throughout the whole day, be it the way he pressed his leg against yours at the dining table, or how often your shoulders touched whilst walking around together.

Actions do speak louder than words, after all.

Vincent van Gogh

The little ray of sunshine is unaware that your gloomy words are mere jests (most of the time), and he still is at times, even after you explained. He has a slight frown on his face whenever you make these jokes, only causing you to regret even opening your mouth.

“How are you feeling today, schatje?” “Oh, I’m not.” You answer listlessly, only straightening up when you see his lips curl downwards. “I mean, I’m not feeling.. Bad. Yes. Haha.” Nice save.

In all honesty, he doesn’t quite understand your self-deprecation, or, well, you. And it eats him alive. The only thing he wishes for is your happiness, but how can he do that when he can barely understand your sadness?

He often partakes in conversations with you regarding your views, always ending up reassuring you in any and every way that he cares, that he loves you.

“You’re going to hate yourself in the morning if you don’t fall asleep right now, you know?” His sleepy murmur against your forehead only brings you to scoff slightly, snuggling in closer to his chest.

“Jokes on you, Vincent, I’m going to hate myself no matter what.”

Your tone is joking, though it does nothing to stop him from tensing up, the better part of his brain urging him to wake up. Furrowing his brows, Vincent manages to calm himself down, slightly glad that you’re unable to see his worried countenance.

“Do you mind telling me why?”

He finds himself listening intently to your words, only pulling you closer to his chest as you explain. It’s heartwarming, really, how someone loves you this much, to listen to the ramblings you’ve deemed “pointless” and feelings you thought “unnecessary”.

“Well.. you know...” he starts, gently pushing your chin up to meet his intense gaze, one you often see when he’s immensely focused on one of his paintings. “I love you. I always will, and I won’t stop, even until you figure out how to love yourself.”

It should be illegal, for someone to say such honeyed words in that gentle tone of his. For someone to say such words, and mean every single one.

You’re helpless as you burry your sniffling form into the chest of the man you love, Vincent only humming softly as he rakes his soft fingers through your hair, urging you to sleep, to bathe in his warmth.

Isaac Newton

Whenever you let out one of your self-deprecating jokes, Isaac always manages to furrow his brows, process it for a few seconds, then proceeds to scoff, scolding you lightly.

“Why is it so easy for you to talk badly about yourself, but so hard for you to stop?” He asks one day, sending you a look. You roll your eyes, “An object in motion stays in motion, genius.”

“... I can’t believe you used my words against me like that.” His lips were permanently twisted into a moue that whole day.

Isaac is quite used to both receiving and giving vitriolic remarks, though he can only remain silent when those remarks are from you, directed to yourself. He can shoulder any amount of criticism, any amount of malice, but when it comes to you — it’s a whole different story. 

He’d rather you direct those “jokes” to him than yourself, in all honesty, if it meant taking the burden off your shoulder (which he knows it won’t).

"You’re looking awfully thoughtful today.” His statement reverberates through the empty living room, slowly making his way towards you and the faraway look clear in your eyes.

“Thinking about sleeping but forever...” You murmur absentmindedly, unable to notice the frown marring his features as he sits himself to your left in your zoned out state. “Do you think it would be nice?”

Hesitance broods over his features as he struggles to form an answer, his mouth falling closed and open in a seemingly endless cycle. A frustrated groan brings you out of your daze, your head snapping towards just in time for Isaac to tackle you into an unexpected hug.

“Of course it wouldn’t be nice, you idiot,” he hisses, his grip on you tightening ever-so slightly, as if to keep you from doing what you had just suggested. “Don’t do that. Don’t even think about it.”

His words float through the room, your eyes widening in surprise at the slight rancour in his tone. Though confused, your arms slowly snake around his chest, obvious that he isn’t letting go anytime soon.

“If you do, then who am I going to be loving?” His gentle words are barely audible, but the room is far too silent for his confession to simply fly away.

And usually, you’d be teasing the probably flushed and reddened man, though today you simply opt to hug him just a little bit tighter, inhaling his sweet scent.

It takes a while for the both of you to move from your position on the cushioned sofa. The fact that your lover also pushed away both Dazai and Arthur’s teasings only caused your heart to warm even more.

Comte de Saint-Germain

There isn’t many things that are able to get a reaction out of the always poised man, but your self-deprecating humour always induces quite an unexplainable expression on his handsome face. A confused smile, a worried look, and a slight frown mixed all together is the closest words can get.

“Quite frankly, ma chérie, your life is falling apart,” he says, bemused at your current kitchen situation — cooking without Sebastian is a difficult feat, you’ve learned.

You only wink humorously at him, some sort of concoction dripping from your fingers. “Your life can’t fall apart if you never had it together.”

Cue The Look™.

He can’t deny that his thoughts drift to you a lot. More specifically, to your thoughts and feelings, if it hadn’t already before. Don’t be surprised if you see the man randomly lurking around near you — just a mere check up, as per usual of the worrisome man.

“Ah, ma chérie.. pray tell me why we’re in this position again? Not that I mind, of course.” Confusion is evident in his ever-smooth voice, slowly rubbing his large hands up and down your back as he rests his head on your shoulder.

Not many times do you burst into his study, wordlessly nestling yourself into his lap — much like a koala, he thinks — and staying in that position for quite some time, but it does happen. He can’t say he’s not used to it.

“... You know how you’re perfect?” You ask, briefly looking into his golden eyes before setting your head down once more into the crook of his neck. “Yeah. I have to keep reminding myself that you won’t be leaving this self-deprecating self of mine.”

He inhales softly for a moment, before you hear that comforting voice of his right beside your ear, gentle and deep, and not going anywhere.

“You know that I will never leave you, mon coeur.” My heart. Your own heart thumps slightly at the rare nickname.

A meek nod is the only reply you can muster. He continues, “And you know that I love you.”

Another nod. Then, finally, he turns your head towards his own with the tip of his fingers, a sweet, slightly pained smile painted on his face. Lithe fingers caress your cheeks, bringing you to lean into his warmth. “And you know, that I will love you until your next life, and the one after that, and every, other—”

You immediately cut him off with a kiss, one which he only smiles mischievously into. Curse the immortal for knowing exactly how to get you all hot and flustered.

Not once did he lie though. And he isn’t planning to, especially when it comes to the one he loves.

[liberty-barnes]

Done Wondering

Jock!Tom Holland x Female!Reader

Highschool AU

@danicarosaline requested: Hi pretty!! i saw your requests are open so may i please request a jock Tom x reader! Tom is a big softy and the captain of his football team and reader is a tough ‘not taking shits from anybody’ type of person? Like Tom gets in an argument with a team mate and he’s being all nice and calm about it but reader thinks his team mate deserves a good punch in the face so she punches him and it shocks the entire team and Tom himself even though he expected it!!

Warnings: F L U F F, not sure that the football talk is 100% accurate, all I know about American football is that Tom Brady's a quarterback, their jerseys are cool and apparently I'm supposed to cheer for the Pats? (yeah, that's my dad's fault), B99 references (i fucking love that show), cursing, a bit of violence ig

Word Count: 2.3k words (why can i not write short things?)

Estimated Reading Time: 9 minutes

A/N: so sorry it took so long to get this out! also, i got waaaaaay to invested in this... oopsie

Masterlist

You ran across the field as people all around you celebrated with only one goal in mind: kiss your boyfriend.

You and Tom had been dating for almost seven months now, to many people's surprise. The entire school thought you'd be together for a week tops, but you surpassed all their expectations by becoming the longest standing couple in junior year (not that it was hard, high schoolers change partners like discardable gloves). 

Tom was one of Sunset High's best and brightest, loved by the teachers, captain of the football team, and the object of many's affection.

You, however, were nothing like that. You hated sports (everyone knows art's better anyway), social interactions were your personal little slice of hell, and everyone was too scared to approach you since you threatened to gut Charles after he accidentally forgot to give you back your pencil.

All in all, there was no way you two could stay together.

There was no way you could even make a friendship work, let alone a romantic relationship.

But then there was that fateful summer night...

Your mind ran at a thousand miles an hour as you rocked in the park's nest swing. The stars looming over you were the only thing keeping you from spiraling, and after an hour of watching them, the peace in your mind was crumbling.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

You sat up on the swing and looked to your right where stood a sheepish-looking Tom.

"It's okay, I should probably leave anyway..."

"No! I mean, it's okay, you were here first I didn't mean to disturb you."

You cast your eyes down until he spoke again.

"You go to my school, right? (Y/n)? We were in the same English class in freshman year."

"Yeah, I think so... I'm surprised you remember me, we didn't have any classes together last year..."

He huffed out a laugh and leaned against the support beam, hands in his pockets.

"It's kinda hard to forget someone like you. You stood up to the teacher on the first day after he yelled at a kid and spent the next year having actual coherent debates about the books that most of the class never even read, let alone understood. You're kind of amazing."

You ducked your head once more to try to cover the blush on your cheeks, biting your lip.

"Thanks."

He nodded and took a deep breath, then sat in front of you and pushed so the swing was rocking softly, always catching it before it hit his face.

You giggled a bit and sat criss-cross applesauce, back straight, your mother's words permanently etched into your brain.

"So, what are you doing alone in the town's most secluded park at midnight?"

"Oh, you know, questioning my life choices, freaking out because in three weeks we're going back to school while simultaneously feeling stir crazy after having nothing cool to do all summer, regretting ever being born, the usual. What about you?"

"Getting crushed by everyone's expectations, feeling constricted cause I have to set a good example for my little brothers, freaking out cause I have no idea what I want to do with my life, the usual."

A comfortable silence settled between you.

"Do our lives really suck or is it just the teenagers in us that dramatize everything?"

He huffed out a laugh.

"I don't know, tell me your story and I'll let you know."

You scooched to the side and patted the now empty spot on the too-small swing so he could lay down next to you. Looking at the stars seemed like a better idea than looking at him.

"I never really liked school, people are jerks, cafeteria food is disgusting at best, I have no friends -not that I care about that, I'm better off alone. Still, it's better than being home. When my father isn't working in his study, he's berating me about getting better grades, even though I'm a straight-A student, not that he cares enough to actually know that. My mother's usually either gossiping with her other rich friends or telling me to correct my posture, dress better, act like a lady, it's infuriating...

"My older brother, the only person in that family that I genuinely like, left for MIT today, so I guess I'm just now realizing that I'm really... alone. I'll have to suffer through my father's lectures about getting high grades and act like someone I'm not so my mother doesn't take away everything I love until I "learn to act like a respectable woman". Jake used to get them to lay off me, but now he's not here. Sometimes I wonder why they even adopted me if I'm such a bad daughter. It just sucks."

You felt his hand twitch next to yours and his eyes on your face.

"Your turn."

He took a shuddering breath before speaking.

"My parents are amazing, they really are, they only want what's best for me, but sometimes it's a little much. They constantly remind me of going to training, doing my homework, studying for tests, and even though they always say it's okay, I see the disappointment in their eyes when my grades lower even by a single point.

"My little brothers look up to me a lot, and they're always telling me how much they want to be just like me when they grow up. I know they mean it in the best possible way, but it's just that much more pressure. I just... feel the need to always be the best at everything. The best football player, the best captain, the best student, the kindest person in that school, most helpful... it's all a bit much."

This time, it was you who were looking at his profile while he gazed at the stars.

"It's okay to feel overwhelmed, Tom. It doesn't matter that they have the best intentions, they're still putting too much pressure on you and you deserve the chance to relax."

He turned towards you and for the first time that night, you realized just how close you were.

"You're not a bad daughter just because you have different interests. I, for one, think you are a strong and independent woman who doesn't need to change because of some mere peasants. You're a queen... You deserve someone that'll treat you as one."

Your breath caught in your throat as you locked eyes with him.

"Wanna make a deal?"

You nodded tentatively, though at this point you'd probably agree to murder someone as long as he kept looking at you that way.

"I'll be your friend, give you something to do whenever you need it, save you from your asshole parents and remind you of just how awesome you are every day..."

"And in return?"

"And in return, you'll say stuff like what you said before when I get too stuck in my head, save me from my so-called friends when they're being jerks, and come to every practice with me so you have something to do and I have someone to make silly faces at."

"I'm pretty sure there are a thousand girls in that school that would kill to have you make silly faces at them."

"Maybe so, but they aren't you. A lock of your hair is worth more than all of them combined."

You bit your lip and smiled.

"Okay."

"Cool."

"Cool."

He pecked you softly on the lips before he lost his nerve, quick and fleeting, feather-light but strong enough to leave fires in its wake. You pulled him back and gave him a slightly longer kiss before setting your head on his shoulder and going back to stargazing, now with someone to keep you company.

Three weeks later, you walked into school hand in hand and haven't let go since.

"Tommy!"

You jumped into his arms, ignoring the smell of sweat and how it would probably cling to your clothes.

"You did so good baby!"

He kissed you straight on the lips, not minding his teammate's wolf-whistles, having grown used to them already.

"I had a pretty good motivation."

"Oh?"

"Mm-hm, my girl told me she'd bake me cookies if I won this match, and I really like her cookies."

"Sounds like you have a great girlfriend."

"The best."

You kissed him again and he smiled when he felt the fabric of his spare jersey adorning your figure.

"Yo, Holland!"

You forced apart by Teddy's call, one of the newer players. Since you went to every single practice, you knew that Teddy was being an ass lately, always wanting the glory, never passing the ball to his teammates. If it weren't for Tom's skill as captain of the team, he would've cost them most matches, including this one.

"Why didn't you pass me the ball?"

"Pardon?"

"That last play, I was free and you passed the ball to Harrison even though he almost lost it. You should have passed it to me, we almost lost because you want to make your useless bestie feel included!"

"Johnson was closing in on you, if I'd passed it to you, we would have lost for sure. Passing it to Harrison bought me the time I needed to get out of danger. It was purely strategical, you would know that if you paid attention to your teammates instead of playing all on your own. Haz is an amazing player and I don't treat him differently just because he's my best friend. I'd like you to apologize to him, please, it's not kind to insult your teammates."

You admired the fact that he managed to remain calm and collected throughout the whole conversation, looking like the embodiment of 'I'm not mad, I'm disappointed'. You, however, were not having such an easy time keeping your cool, hands firmly clenched at your side.

"The hell it was! You just feel threatened by me because you'll never be as good as me, so you never pass me the ball, it's ridiculous!"

"Okay, buddy, you need to back the hell off and close your mouth before I punch it shut."

His eyes flickered to you and he rose a brow mockingly.

"Oh, your little slut's standing up for you know? I always knew you were a chicken, guess my theory's been pro-"

You cut him off with a punch to the nose, smiling when you heard the satisfying crack of his bones and his howls of pain.

A collective 'ooh' came from the crowd, and they took a few steps back (excluding Tom of course, who was only looking at you with wide eyes).

"What the fuck?"

"I warned you, didn't I?"

You smirked evilly as Teddy was pulled away by the coach to check his injury.

"You're a bitch!"

"Baddest of them all, sweetheart. Have a fun time at the hospital!"

The whole crowd had gone silent by the time you turned back around, seemingly satisfied with your vengeance.

"What?"

You tilted your head in confusion at the awestruck looks on the team's faces.

"You broke his nose!"

"Uh-huh."

"With just your hand."

"Uh-huh."

"Since when are you so violent?"

You were actually kind of offended at that.

"I know that I bring you guys snacks after practice, but do none of you hear when I threaten other people? It's a daily occurrence."

The rubbed their necks sheepishly.

"Well, you see..."

Haz started, seemingly measuring his words.

"You're kind of like Rosa from Brooklyn Nine-Nine. No one actually knows what you're capable of, no one thinks you'd actually kill someone, but we're also kind of too scared to test you, so we just... wonder."

"Well, when you're done wondering, go take a shower so we can go celebrate, I'm hungry."

They all scrambled away in a chorus of 'yes ma'am' before you turned back to Tom with a smile on your face.

"You didn't have to punch him, you know?"

"Yeah, but I've been wanting to for weeks now."

He huffed out a laugh and kissed your forehead.

"How're your knuckles?"

"A bit sore, but I'm pretty sure that if we put some ice it'll be good, the rings took most of the impact."

You wiggled your hand, showing off the array of rings covering your fingers in what you deemed to be an aesthetically pleasing way.

"I love you, babygirl."

You kissed him, smiling into his lips.

"I love you too. Now go, shower!"

You patted his butt and laughed at the look he threw you, standing next to the field while you waited for them to get out.

Their coach came to stand next to you and you smiled at him, having taken a liking for him. He was a good teacher and treated the team well.

"Coach Jeffords."

"(Y/n)."

"What's the verdict?"

"Nurse says it's broken but we'll only know the full extent of his injuries after he gets examined at the ER. He's on his way there as we speak."

You nodded.

"You'll be pleased to know that he's been taken off the team and suspended for a week for unruly behavior. His parents aren't going to press charges since they feel it's deserved."

You smirked evilly.

"I'd advise you to watch out for Pembroke. He's starting to become a nuisance. If he keeps it up, he might be next."

He nodded, fighting back his smile even though you knew damn well he agreed.

"I'll do my best."

"And I'll do mine."

"(Y/n)! Ready to go?"

You nodded in goodbye at the coach and walked over to a freshly showered Tom, interlacing your fingers.

"Always."

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

PERMA TAG 

@jeezkiddo @beananacake @yoinkyourheart @averyfosterthoughts​ @onebigolemess​ @samoney69​ @agirlwithpointlessideas​ @ddaawwssoonn @inhumanwithpowers​ @imagineshere-forall​ @stiles-banshees​ @orowit​ @spideynut​ @deathofmissjackson​ @ephemeral-limerences​ @write-from-the-heart​ @cardboard-ben​ @my-alignment-is-bisexual​ @mendes-marvel​ @shawnsnovel​ @inthecornerchair​ @lovelynerdytraveler​ @niallssweetheart22​ 

ACTORS/RPF TAG 

@bubblegumbarnes​ @sofiaconlaz​ 

TOM HOLLAND TAG 

@tomsirishgirlx​ @dreaming-lia​ @markleehee​ @juliebean247​ @gypsystuf​ @quechulitaaa​ @theoretical-theo​ @bubblegumbarnes​  @sofiaconlaz​ @underooling​ @hannahholland1811​ @bellaaa321-blog​ @parkerpetertingle​ @emily-louise-hynes @clara-licht​ @ekelly2015​ @inlovewithmobtom​ @quaksonhehe​ @danicarosaline​ @arts-ismything​ @peachyafshawn @tutuabby28​ @sovereignparker​ @tokhalaxoxo​ @cathwritestragediesnotsins​ @incorrect-things​ 

[taxicabinmemphis]

“I’m exhausted” Logan and whatever side you want (can be platonic or romantic), Logan's experiencing emotions he's not used to and it's draining

so i’m a sucker for analogical and this got long. tho honestly this is me we’re talking about so what did you expect?

“Logan!” Virgil exclaimed, slamming the logical side’s door open. “What in the name of Ray Toro are we going to do about Thomas driving near a club at night on Wednesday? That’s the route you suggested he take! But Thomas is going to get killed by a drunk driver if that happens! So, what do we do?!”

Logan sighed, picking his head up from the table on which it was resting. He put his glasses on, facing the anxious side. “We’ll be fine, Virgil. However, if it bothers you so much we can go on another street. Also, will you please knock next time?”

Virgil’s exclamations and anxiety-fueled antics stopped, and he finally got a good look at the logical side. He looked terrible.

“You good, L?”

Logan rolled his eyes, turning his head away from Virgil so the side couldn’t take notice of his messy state. “I’m fine. I have given you what you required, so unless you have any other qualms you wish me to take care of, please leave.”

“Yeah, I have one more ‘qualm’ or whatever you called it,” Virgil said, approaching Logan. “You.”

Logan exhaled, giving Virgil an irritated look. “Yes, of course. What did I do this time?”

Virgil sat on Logan’s table, on his left, and gave him a scrutinizing look. “You’ve done nothing wrong, as per usual, but you’re a mess.”

“Thank you,” Logan said sarcastically, though Virgil’s ‘as per usual’ did lighten his mood by the tiniest fraction.

“I don’t mean it as a thing you’ve done wrong, but...” Virgil gave him a once-over. “Your hair is a mess, your glasses are crooked and weren’t even on when I came in, your tie is incredibly loose, your top button is undone, and your shoes are untied. If I wore your clothing, that would be expected of me and might even be considered nice, but this is you we’re talking about.” He paused, looking into Logan’s eyes. “What’s going on with you, buddy?”

Logan tried to fix his hair, adjusted his glasses, and tied his shoes. He left his shirt and tie the way they were as fixing them would feel restricting. He had loosened his tie and unbutton the top button of his shirt a few hours before because he felt like they were hindering his breathing.

“This is a worry I will not be calming for you. I’d greatly appreciate it if you would leave and not tell anyone about what you saw here.”

“No.”

“Look, I’m not in a compromising situation. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

“You just told me,” Virgil said slowly, “me, not to worry.”

Logan sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. “Yes, I realize my mistake. Of course you’re worried. Fine. Worry somewhere that isn’t my room, please.”

Virgil crossed his arms. “Rude.”

“Exactly. No one wants to be around rude people. Leave me alone.”

Virgil shook his head, putting a hand on Logan’s shoulder, the logical side immediately shrugging it off. “I’m worried about you, dude. I can’t help it, you’re the voice of reason. If you’re not doing okay, Thomas will suffer. And I don’t mean this as criticism or pressure for you to be okay, just...it’s really important to make sure you’re alright. It can’t just be dismissed as one of my normal, unimportant worries. It wouldn’t be...logical to leave you like this.”

“I’m not fond of the fact that you are likely correct,” Logan grumbled.

“Great; we’ve established that I have to stay,” Virgil stated. “So, what’s up?”

“I...” Logan trailed off, thinking about how to voice his emotions. “I’m exhausted.”

“Hmm?”

“Every day I work tirelessly to provide you all with what you need. Schedules, explanations, assistance in educational activities. I join you all in most of your discussions, offering the logical explanation or solution for the current dilemma almost immediately, and yet no one listens. No one will heed my advice, or listen to my suggestions. I would gladly do what I do with no problem if it wasn’t like talking to a wall and telling it how to deal with its issues.”

“Logan...”

“I’m just...I don’t know...” He put his head back down on the desk.

“No one means to hurt your feelings.”

“It’s not that. I’m over being hurt, or offended...”

“Then?”

“I’m just so tired, V.”

Virgil didn’t have a response to that. Logan lifted his head to look at Virgil.

“There’s nothing else to it.” Logan rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “I’m tired. Exhausted. And I don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Get some sleep?” Virgil suggested. “I can talk with the others, fix our rude behavior. And I’m sorry, I know I can be rude to you-”

Logan thought back to Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts. Virgil had been particularly disrespectful that episode, but it was only because he thought that further conversation on the topic would only make Thomas’ situation worse and his likelihood of becoming a bad person all the more likely.

“You’ve only been rude to me recently when your anxiety was telling you that what I was doing would make things worse. Your actions were out of fear and were understandable and while I was annoyed, I am over it and require no apology.”

“Oh...okay,” Virgil replied quietly. “Thank you for understanding.”

“And talking with the others may help, if you’re up for it.”

Virgil nodded. “Maybe we could do it together? I don’t know exactly how you’re feeling, so having you there would help.”

“Of course.”

“...Would sleep help?” Virgil asked. “I know you work a lot so it could help with the fatigue. You don’t always listen to your own advice, so-”

“Not with this problem, I’m afraid,” Logan said with a grimace. “Sleep doesn’t take me away from dealing with everyone and my emotions permanently.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Emotions, huh?”

Logan sighed. “Yes. It has come to my attention that I do indeed...feel things, despite it not being logical.”

“It may not be logical, but it’s normal.” Virgil furrowed his eyebrows. “What emotions are troubling you?”

“I’m not sure I would like to talk with you about it,” Logan said bluntly. “There’s more than I know what to do with.”

“Oh. Should I get Patton?”

“No!” Logan exclaimed, eyes widening at his own volume. “Apologies. No, that would not be appreciated.”

“Is it, like, anger over not being listened to? Irritation? Insecurity?”

Logan stared at him for a moment, before answering. “Yes. Those are some of the troubling emotions.”

“Among others?”

“Among others.”

“And you don’t want to talk with me about it because...”

Logan didn’t want to answer this. He knew he’d been feeling something for the anxious side lately, and it was before he walked in the Logan decided it was likely something akin to romantic love.

Virgil was just so wonderful. He was smart, thoughtful, protective, funny (at times), beautiful, and they got along very well.

Having those types of feelings for someone, especially Virgil, scared him. He also didn’t want Virgil to know, in case it hurt their friendship or heightened his anxiety.

So, he figured it would be best not to mention it.

“I would rather not talk about it at all.”

Virgil frowned. “But you singled me out. Why?”

“Because we are currently talking.”

Virgil gave him an unimpressed look—he clearly didn’t buy it.

“I don’t want you to know.”

Virgil nodded, looking away from Logan and to his lap. “You hate me, don’t you?”

“Wha- no!” Logan objected incredulously.

“It’s okay, I get it, no need to sugarcoat it,” Virgil said pitifully. “I undermine what you do, I annoy you with my worries, I-”

“Stop,” Logan commanded firmly. “None of those things are true. I’m not having trouble with hateful emotions...I’m having trouble with their opposites. Please don’t talk to me about them.”

“You’re having trouble with...love?”

“Can’t we just leave it?”

Virgil grinned. “No. I will get to the bottom of this.”

Logan groaned, throwing his head back against the chair he was in.

“Is it Patton?” Virgil asked. “I bet it’s Patton. That’s why you’re so hurt when people don’t listen. You want him to think you’re smart and cool and you want him to notice and like you.”

“It’s not Patton.”

“No?” Virgil asked, surprised. However, he was secretly very happy. “I bet you’re lying.”

Logan didn’t understand how Virgil hadn’t caught on. “Just leave me alone, please.”

“No, we went over this,” Virgil said, exasperated. “I will now help you find love.”

“No, you won’t,” Logan disagreed. If Virgil was willing to help him with this, he obviously didn’t feel the same.

“Yes, I will,” Virgil replied. “I care about you. I won’t let you suffer through this unfamiliarity alone.”

In truth, Virgil knew because he suffered through it with his feelings for Logan. He still was suffering through it.

“The gesture is touching, but I will have to decline.”

Virgil gasped. “Is it Janus? You two are both incredibly intelligent.”

Virgil really didn’t know?

“No, it isn’t.”

Virgil put a hand to his chin in thought. “What’s he like?”

“He’s an idiot, that’s what he is,” Logan said in exasperation.

“Oh, so it’s Roman.”

Though, considering he didn’t want Virgil to know, this may have been good.

“All of you are idiots; I wasn’t specifying anything.” He pulled out a schedule for a future day and started to work on it.

“So it’s Roman.”

Logan shook his head. “No.”

Virgil paused. “It’s Remus?!”

Logan put his pen down, absolutely done. “Yes. Yes, it’s Remus. Me, the embodiment of logic, fell in love with a chaotic and crazy side who took out my teeth and hit me with a throwing star that, if I were human, would have killed me.” He gave Virgil a look.

There was a moment of silence.

“...Thomas?”

Logan threw his pen at Virgil’s head. “Get out. Leave. Leave my room, you utter and complete moron. I will not tolerate such idiocy in my sacred space of intelligence and higher thinking.”

Virgil put his hands up, jumping off the table and walking towards the door. He reached for the handle, but stopped.

He thought back to their conversation, who he’d eliminated, who he’d hadn’t, and Logan’s reactions. He remembered that time when he and Patton were in Logan’s room a week before, and Logan yelled at Patton for so much as leaning on his table. Logan just let him sit on the table for an extended period of time. Logan didn’t force him out of his room or sink out, he just told Virgil to leave multiple times. He did try to ward him off with rudeness once, but never tried again. He also defended Virgil’s actions that hurt his feelings...to Virgil. Not to mention, he described his crush as an idiot before going on to call Virgil out on his idiocy and use that to send him out of his room.

“...Oh.”

Logan knew this meant Virgil had figured it out, so he took another pen and started to write furiously.

Virgil swiveled on his heels to face Logan, a look of realization on his face. He suppressed a laugh when he saw the side turned away from him and to his work, writing quickly and fully ignoring him. He found it absolutely adorable.

He walked over to Logan slowly, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets. He stood beside Logan’s chair, placing a hand on the top left of it. He saw Logan’s movements stiffen a bit, but otherwise stay the same.

He turned the chair so Logan was facing him. Logan’s eyes widened, his pen dropped from his hands, and he stopped moving.

Virgil tilted the chair back, and he leaned over Logan.

“You love me, don’t you?”

“It appears so.”

Virgil chuckled, getting closer to Logan.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” Virgil teased.

Logan shook his head no in protest.

Virgil laughed. “If you say so. You’re already hot so I guess it’s unfair for you to be both.”

Logan’s cheeks flushed. There was a silence as the two just stared at each other for a moment.

Virgil’s eyes flickered to Logan’s lips.

“Would you mind if I kissed you?” Virgil murmured quietly.

“No,” Logan replied.

Virgil smiled, and—still tilting Logan’s chair back—kissed him like he was the most important thing in the world.

And to each other, that was exactly what they were.

~

Sorry this got long! I am such an a sucker for analogical I’m sorry. Hope you liked it! If you would like a redo, please shoot me as ask. Thanks!

[pumpkinpatchkid]

Got Your Back - 001

Pairing: Atsushi x F!Reader Soulmates

Rating: 18+ (eventually)

Warnings: Reckless behaviour, toxic thoughts, parental abuse, clothes being destroyed (no nudity), cursing, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF ANYTHING ELSE NEEDS TO BE PUT IN THE WARNINGS <3

Soul mates. The one person that always had your back, literally and figuratively. When you’re born, there’s a permanent mark on your back that represents the person you’re destined to spend the rest of your life with. If one was a gifted, like yourself, there was an almost one hundred percent possibility you were paired up with another. Those who didn’t possess supernatural abilities had the thing that their soulmate treasured the most on their back. From birth, the large white tiger was prominent against your skin, and it grew with you, your whole life. At 18, it had covered the entirety of your back, yet the person it represented still hadn’t entered your life.

When? When will I meet them? You sighed as you examined the large feline in the mirror. Another morning, another search for a job to keep you going. It had been 3 weeks since you’d run from your parents and ended up in Yokohama. 3 weeks was all it took for the money you had run with to dwindle as you paid for a rundown little shack to keep yourself alive.

You tore yourself away from your reflection and began to rummage through your small duffel bag of clothes, hoping you still had some job-searching appropriate attire. At the bottom of the bag, you pulled out a neatly folded white shirt and your nicest black jeans, throwing them on after picking your freshly washed “lucky underwear set” from the line.

You ran your fingers through your hair, and pulled on your battered boots, making do before grabbing your key and half charged phone off the side, leaving the shack quietly and locking the door behind you.

You made your way down the trail that led into Yokohama’s smaller side of town and started your search for job openings in every window you passed. You weren’t entirely sure how much time had passed on your search, but your hopes began to fade.

Looks like another loss.

As you gazed into the buildings, you found yourself losing touch with reality, which you were brought back to as you walked straight into somebody.

“I’m so sorry” You instinctively said, looking at the floor as if ready for your punishment. The person you ran into began to laugh. You looked up to find a tall, beautiful brunette, with bandages poking out from under his shirt. He offered you a hand.

“No, I’m the one to apologize, pretty thing. Name’s Dazai Osamu.” You nodded and took his hand, where he began examining yours.

“Y/N L/N.” You watched this Dazai man carefully, as he investigated your palm, knuckles, fingers and wrist. He hummed and dropped your hand, seemingly satisfied.

“Is... everything okay, Dazai-san?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He nodded, and a charming, yet mischievous grin spread across his face.

“So, L/N-chan. I’ll help you with whatever you’re looking for, and then you have to strangle me.” He beamed, as if proud of the proposal he just gave you. Your jaw slacked and you looked at him as if he’d grown 3 heads.

“S-Strangle you??” You sputtered out. Dazai nodded with a newfound enthusiasm and threw his hands into the air.

“To death!” He sang. Your face paled as you watched him. Then you began to laugh.

This man has well and truly lost his mind. You shrugged, re-composing yourself and hummed.

“I suppose I could humour you, Dazai-san. Say you could find me a job? If you can help me do that then we’ll figure out where to go from there.” You laughed as Dazai punched the air victoriously, eyes brimming with tears.

What a weirdo... You rolled your eyes when he turned his back to you and raised your eyebrow once again as he started to walk off into the now expanding crowd.

“I hear there’s lots of jobs going on the other side of here. Why don’t I accompany you?” He grinned, gesturing for you to follow his lead. You smiled at the eccentric man ahead of you and began to take your stride next to him. The walk was pleasant and filled with chatter. Dazai had guessed that you hadn’t been in Yokahoma long. He’d said you’d looked a little lost and claimed that’s why he “flew in to help like your knight in shining armour”. You couldn’t help but find yourself laughing at the man, his company was light-hearted, and his little quips undeniably made you smile. In all, he was quite sweet.

And not bad on the eye either... Maybe my soulmate got mixed up? He doesn’t look like someone to possess a tiger to me.

You were about to reply with something Dazai had said, before stopping in your tracks. You inhaled and the smell of smoke was thick in your nostrils. You spun to the direction the smell was strongest to see nasty black plumes of smoke dominating the otherwise blue sky. Without thinking you bolted to the scene of the fire, guided by your sense of smell, and the black towers above you.

When you reached the scene an apartment complex was ablaze, from the second story to maybe the fifth. Flames licked the outside world from where windows used to be, and a heavy congregation of people crowded the area. You pushed through them, eyes scanning for the victims. Ambulances and fire fighters were already at the scene, tending to the people pulled from the building.

Your heart began to lift, until you saw a woman on her knees, sobbing and crying out as she was being restrained in the arms of a fire fighter.

“My children! They’re in there!! Please, please! Get them out of there! My babies!” She was screaming at the man holding her back. You couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying to her as you’d already jumped, using the frames of the shattered windows to pull yourself to the third floor.

You burst in through the opening and were blanketed in darkness.

“Hot Blood, Eye of the Winged Serpent...” You muttered under your breath. A sudden flash stunned your world momentarily before reds and oranges, flecked with golds cleared your vision.

Much better.

With no sign of life in the room you entered, you began barging through the rooms of the floor, searching for the victims before moving onto the next, flames licking at your skin and scorching your clothes; it was a warmth you welcomed. As you rose your foot to kick down the next, your ears perked up as you could hear crying and begging come from across the hall. You spun and smiled, satisfied, as the door broke from its hinges giving you perfect access to the flame encased room. There, your eyes locked on to two white hot bodies, small and quivering in the middle of the room.

“Hey! Hey, it’s alright, I’m here to help.” You spoke above the crackling of the fire, approaching the two children with caution. A little boy, blackened from the smoke, eyes streaming, and clothes burned from his body, was cowering next to a little girl, laid under a large piece of furniture. She was sobbing for help.

“Please get my sister out! Help us please!” The little boy cried, coughing harshly. He used his body to protect the smaller girl beside him as a large flame lashed out at the three of you. You jumped between the children and the fire, shielding them both.

“It’s alright. We’ll get your sister out, Kiddo. And you two. You’ll both be alright, okay? Now try and calm your breathing. We can’t have you taking in any more smoke, can we?” You smiled softly at him.

As you turned to the little girl, you noticed some of her hair had been burned off, and the furniture had pinned her legs. You grabbed the corner of the large... bookshelf? it looked like, but you weren’t stopping to take a better look. You hoisted the object from off her, and the little boy dragged her into him. She let out a sob and clung to her brother. You scanned her over quickly, to find two broken legs.

Shit. This isn’t going to be easy.

“Alright buddy, I’m going to carry your sister, so I need you to hop on my back, alright? I’m gonna get you out of here.” You crouched in front of the pair, cradling the little girl in your arms, as her brother clambered onto your back.

“Ready? Hold tight.” You spoke to the pair, before taking off down the hall, staying low, and made your way back to the room you’d burst into. You clambered out of the hole in the wall and stood on the small ledge attached to the outside of the building, tightening your grip on the little one in your arms. You pulled the little boy by his arm to your front and held him close.

“We’re gonna jump, okay? Whatever you do, do not let go of me.” The pair nodded, heeding your instructions, before you let go. You heard the crowd below you scream, and your back hit the concrete below you, forcing yourself into a roll as your arms shielded the youngsters against your chest.

As you stopped rolling, you lay flat on your back, only meters away from the sobbing mother. She screamed when she saw her children and ran to them. She scooped them up, and thanked you through choked cries, cradling her babies. You nodded before hoisting your body from the floor. You made a quick exit, slipping through the large audience and made your way onto the next street, slumping against the wall. You looked down at your charred clothes, large patches of material missing and burnt to a crisp.

Least my underwear’s intact. Knew this set was lucky.

You chuckled to yourself and pushed yourself from the wall and stretched. As you were about to make an exit, calling it quits for one day, a familiar figure blocked your path. Dazai was stood there.

He must’ve followed me. Crap.

Two figures shifted to stand beside Dazai. One was a tell young man, with glasses and long blonde hair in a ponytail. He was adorned in a suit and in his left hand was a notebook. He stood silently and pushed his glasses up his nose with his free hand. The other was an older man. His long silver hair covered his shoulders, and you couldn’t take your eyes away from his kind, grey ones. Dazai was beaming. The older gentleman stepped forwards and was the only one to speak to you.

“I think you should come with us.”

[samsexualdeancurious]

Accidental Happiness | Part Two

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 3,035

Summary: Sams being overprotective and Y/N decides on a midwife.

Warnings: Pregnancy, non-graphic description of labor.

Betaed by @manawhaat. Written for @saxxxology's October Angel request.

---

You pause at the top of the kitchen steps, rubbing your palm against your belly, and then move to start down the two steps.

“Hey, hey, let me help you.”

You can’t help an eye roll as Sam appears at your side, one hand on your back and the other hand on your elbow as he helps you down into the kitchen.

“Do you want to sit down?” he asks, already steering you towards the nearest seat. “Here, sit down. I’ll make you something for lunch.”

You sink into the kitchen chair, more than happy to get off your aching feet. You’re only just starting to really look pregnant at going on five months but you’re definitely feeling it. At least the morning sickness is over. Now you’re getting into craving territory, though you haven’t been craving anything too strange - no pickles in ice cream or whatever weird shit people joke about pregnant women wanting. You know Sam wouldn’t stop you from satisfying those cravings if you had them, but he definitely wouldn’t be happy about it. While you love your boyfriend to death, he’s taking ‘protective father-to-be’ to a whole new level.

“You need to eat more veggies,” Sam is saying, rummaging through the fridge in search of something to make for you. “And of course we don’t have any.”

“That’s because you keep feeding them all to me,” you grumble. “I want a burger. With cheese. And bacon. And fries.”

Sam makes a face. “But you need good, healthy meals. Lots of leafy greens, lean proteins, you know. If you’re craving red meat ‘cause it has iron or something, why not just eat spinach?”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I know. You’ve been telling me for months.”

He doesn’t seem to hear you, emerging from the freezer with a triumphant sound and a package of frozen salmon in one hand. You groan at the sight and he drops the fish onto the counter, rushing to your side.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, crouching beside you with one hand on your belly.

“Will you stop fucking touching my stomach?” you growl, knocking his hand away.

Sam flinches back with an expression like a kicked puppy and you immediately feel bad.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I just don’t want to be touched like that right now.”

Sam flushes, rising. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

You reach out one hand to grab his closest one. “Sam, baby. I love you but right now I also want to kick your ass.”

“I just want you and the baby to be healthy,” he murmurs.

You tug him down so you can kiss him softly. He braces his free hand against the kitchen table and returns the kiss. “I know and I love that about you. But I also would love it if you gave me a little room to breathe. I’m not made of glass. I can get down two steps on my own. I can walk across the kitchen on my own. You don’t have to hover over me every moment of every day.”

He starts to speak but you silence him with another kiss.

“You’re just stressing yourself out. I will let you know when I need help,” you promise him. “And one burger, cooked through, with some cheese, fresh lettuce and tomato, a few slices of bacon, and a healthy serving of fries isn’t going to do me or the baby any harm. I’m even willing to eat a salad on the side if you want to throw one together. Maybe something with Italian dressing?”

“We don’t have any of the veggies I would need,” Sam says quietly.

“Well,” you pat his cheek. “I don’t think we have any of the things for burgers, either. Sounds like you need to go grocery shopping. Have Dean go with you. Take your time. Go find a used bookstore, play a round of pool, something to get you out of the house for more than thirty minutes. Then go grocery shopping and come home so Dean can make me one of those delicious burgers.”

Sam hesitates and then nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’ll be fine here with Cas and Rowena?”

“You know I will be. Cas is too excited about being an uncle to let anything happen to me and Rowena wouldn’t dare, not if she wants to still have access to the library.”

He chuckles, straightening up. “Good point. Make me a grocery list, then.”

“Go get me something to write it on,” you respond, poking his hip.

“I thought you weren’t made of glass,” he teases even as he moves to fetch the notepad and pen Dean keeps by the fridge for grocery lists.

“Listen. My feet hurt.” You take the items from him. “Now that I’m sitting down, I’m not getting up until I have to.”

“Which means until you need to pee.”

You shake the pen at him. “Whose fault is that?”

He leans gently against your back, folding over you to see the list as you write it. “Last time I checked, it takes two to tango.”

“You’re the one with the super swimmers that beat my birth control.”

“I really didn’t need to hear that,” Dean grumbles as he enters the kitchen, making a face.

“If you don’t know how babies are made, that’s not my fault,” you shoot back, grinning as you finish off your list. “I’ve got a chore for you boys.”

You tear the list off the notepad and hold it up. Sam moves to take it but Dean gets there first.

"Groceries?" he whines.

"I want one of your burgers and we don't have any of the shit we need."

"Mmm burgers," Dean says, more to himself than anyone else as he leaves the kitchen.

"You're sure you'll be fine?" Sam asks, leaning down to kiss you one last time.

"I'm sure." You give his ass a smack. "Go get some air, and then come home and rub my feet.”

Sam laughs. “Deal.”

--

Eventually, you drag yourself to your feet and make your way down the hall to the bathroom, gently scolding your baby for sitting on your bladder. It’s as you’re sitting on the toilet that you realize you haven’t felt the baby kick in a while, which is really abnormal considered how active they’ve been since you were first able to feel them. You wrack your brains as you wash your hands, trying to remember when you last felt the baby and quickly coming to the conclusion that you don’t know.

Your stomach twists at the thought and you hurry to the library, calling for Cas. You only find Rowena, though.

“Where’s Cas?” you ask, trying to remain calm.

“No idea,” she says, glancing up from the book she’s buried her nose in. Her bag sits next to her on the table, open to reveal a variety of spell ingredients. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitate to trust Rowena with something like this but Cas is going to insist on calling Sam and you don’t want to worry Sam if it turns out to not be anything serious. That makes Rowena your best option.

“I can’t feel the baby,” you manage, curling your arms around your belly.

She immediately drops her book, rounding the table to guide you into a seat. “Oh, goodness. That’s always stressful. Here, sit. When did you feel the wee one last?”

You shrug, watching as she rummages through her bag. “I don’t know.”

“That’s quite all right,” she soothes, tossing a little of this and that into her mortar before grinding everything into a paste. “Lift your shirt a little, please. I need to draw a sigil on your skin in order to check on the baby.”

“And this is safe?” you ask, already lifting your shirt to reveal your belly.

“Perfectly safe,” she assures you, carefully drawing the sigil onto your skin just above your belly button. The paste is a little cold and you can’t help a shiver. “This is an old spell midwives have been using for centuries. I used it myself many a time when I was carrying Fergus.”

She finishes the sigil and wipes her hands clean on a cloth she pulls from somewhere in her bag. Then she lays her palms on either side of your belly and says a few words in a language you don’t recognize. The sigil glows purple and Rowena is silent a moment, concentrating on whatever the spell is doing. Then she draws a deep breath and straightens up, the glow of the sigil fading as soon as her hands leave your skin.

“Your baby is perfectly healthy,” she says with a soft smile. “Just sleeping.”

Relief floods your body as she gently wipes the sigil away and you slump a little in your chair. Of course the baby’s sleeping. Babies do that.

“Thank you,” you say, pulling your shirt down.

“It was nothing,” Rowena replies with a soft smile. “I’m more than happy to help an expecting mother. It’s been a long time since I was able to use my midwifery skills.”

“You were a midwife?”

Rowena pauses in cleaning up the spell ingredients. “I’ve taken that role several times over the centuries. I quite enjoy it and if I could do it permanently, I would. But it’s better to leave at least a few decades between. Keep people from being suspicious and all that.”

You nod. “That makes sense.”

The two of you settle into silence, Rowena cleaning and you watching while your mind rolls over this new information and you come to a decision.

“Rowena?”

She glances over at you. “Yes?”

“Will you be my midwife?”

--

“What the hell, Y/N?” Sam says through gritted teeth, dragging you into the hall outside the library. “She’s a witch!”

“A witch with several centuries of midwife experience,” you explain, fighting to keep calm despite your annoyance with Sam.

“So she says,” he snaps back. “We can’t trust her.”

“You’ve trusted her in the past!”

Sam tenses and there’s a moment where his gaze on you softens but it's only a moment. “I can’t trust her with this, Y/N. With you. And with them.”

With understanding eyes cast up at him, you can’t hold your tongue, no matter how sweet Sam’s objection is. “Don’t you think this is something I should have the final say in?”

“It’s our baby,” he sneers, all too possessive for something he can’t even touch, yet.

You stab him in the chest with one finger. “Yes, but they’re living in my body. I want Rowena as my midwife.”

His jaw clenches and he steps back, glaring down at you. “And if I say no?”

You return his angry glare. “You can’t, Sam. I’m doing this. Your choice is whether you’re going to be there for the birth of our child, or not.”

The corners of his mouth twitch and he takes another few steps away, clearly putting distance between the two of you and the emotions he’s clinging to.

He mouths your name and you know what he’s feeling - you know Sam. He’s terrified of the possible complications that you could run into in labor, in a hospital, let alone with a centuries-old witch overseeing things at home. You’re scared of those things, too. But you know what scares Sam the most is that the look in your eyes means you’re serious. If he walks away, you will do this without him.

“Okay, he sighs, voice weak but growing stronger as he approaches again. “Okay. It’s your decision and I’ll respect it. I don’t like it, but I’ll respect it.”

You lay your hands on Sam’s waist. “Thank you.”

He nods stiffly. “Yeah.”

You sigh and kiss the corner of his mouth. “Sam. I’m not doing this to make you upset. She really does know what she’s talking about and I feel safe with her. Plus, this means we can have the home birth I wanted.”

“I know,” Sam admits.

You smile and bring his hands up to press flat against your belly. “Give her a chance? For us?”

Sam’s expression softens as his thumbs stroke back and forth. The baby shifts to kick at his hands, pulling a smile to Sam’s face.  “Anything for you,” he says quietly, kissing your forehead.

“Anything?” you lift a playful eyebrow at him.

“Anything,” he repeats.

“Good because I want a foot massage while Dean makes dinner.”

Sam chuckles but allows you to lead him down the hall to your shared bedroom. He doesn’t even complain when you choose a really flowery-scented lotion for him to use, just pulls your feet into his lap and gets to work.

If you’re going to be honest, you decide as you lay back against a pile of pillows,  you could definitely get used to this.

--

Rowena is a dedicated midwife. Sam is still wary of her but he relaxes when he sees how comfortable she makes you, how attentive she is to the needs of both you and the baby. She teams up with him in making you eat a healthy diet but is willing to take your side when you’re craving something that’s not on the list of recommended foods. She introduces you to the wonders of red raspberry leaf tea. When she mentioned raspberries, you were excited to try it, but you were soon disappointed to discover it to be more of a green tea than a fruit one. Still good but not as good as plain raspberry tea would be.

With her help, the final months of your pregnancy are slightly easier to handle. She’s there to answer any questions you or Sam have, which lowers your stress levels immensely. Possibly the best thing she does, though, is show Sam all the ways to massage your aching body and actually make things feel better. Sam’s a quick learner and his hands are magical. So magical, in fact, that you almost don't notice you're in labor. Almost.

"Fucking hell," you grumble, rolling your neck when Sam stops rubbing your lower back. Nothing quite like a massage to get you ready for bed - though you're still aching. "I don't know why I've been so sore. It's worse than it was yesterday."

Sam frowns and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "Want me to go get Rowena?"

You shake your head, tugging on one of Sam's shirts. “I'll talk to her if I'm still hurting in the morning. I’m just,” you sigh, “really fucking uncomfortable.”

Sam nuzzles softly into the curve of your neck. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah. It’s late and she’s probably already in bed. I don’t want to bother her. Lemme up, I need to pee before we go to bed."

Sam pouts but lets go and you get up. You only make it two steps, though, before you feel what can only be described as a slight pop and then a small gush of liquid escapes your body. At that moment, everything - the discomfort and pain in your lower belly and back, the pressure on your pelvis - makes sense.

“Sam?” you say softly, reaching behind you blindly until you find his hand and lacing your fingers together.

“Hmm?”

“Maybe you should go get Rowena.”

He’s immediately on his feet, come around to grip your shoulders with a concerned expression. “Is everything okay?”

You nod, looking up at him with what you hope is a smile full of excitement and nervousness, but is really a grimace full of terror. “My water just broke.”

Rowena is by your side in minutes, bag in hand. She gives Sam a list of things to gather for her. He looks grateful to have something to do. Things develop slowly from there - much slower than you expected - and it isn’t until over a day later that things really start to pick up and you go into what Rowena calls active labor. Rowena and Sam are by your side through it all and when the time finally comes to push seven hours later, Rowena is there guiding you with her soft voice and Sam providing his hands for you to cling to. You know you’ll feel bad about cussing him out later but in the moment, the words are therapeutic.

After a total of about thirty-two hours of labor, including the time you were in labor but didn’t realize it, the room is filled with the angry cries of your brand new baby girl.

“Oh,” you breath when Rowena places her right on your chest, umbilical cord still attached. You’re naked except for some sheets, having ditched your clothes sometime earlier because they were drenched in sweat, and the press of your baby’s skin against your own sends a surge of warmth through your body and happy tears leaking from your eyes. She settles immediately once you offer her a nipple to nurse at. It takes a moment for you to get the angle right and for her to latch on properly, but once she does, you’re filled with a maternal instinct you never knew could be so strong.“Hi, little one,” you murmur as Rowena works around your hands to clean her up. “Hi.” You’d planned for either a boy or a girl after deciding you didn’t want to find out until the birth, and now, looking at her, you know the name Sam picked is perfect.

Sam is watching in awe. He shifts to sit next to you on the bed, one arm around your shoulders as he tentatively reaches the other hand out to brush his fingertips over her cheek.

“Hi,” he says, voice trembling a little. “Welcome to the world, Rose.”

When you look up at him, there are tears in his eyes. “Sam?”

He sniffs and presses his cheek to the top of your head. “I just… I never thought I would get to have this. You, her. A home, a family. And now she’s here and we weren’t even trying to have her, but she’s perfect.” He squeezes your shoulders, drawing a deep breath. “Everything is perfect.”

You smile, fresh tears dotting your cheeks as you stroke Rose’s fuzzy head and lean into Sam’s embrace. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

---

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—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @laughing-at-the-darkness​​ @tumbler-tidbits​​ @imsuperawkward​​​​ @emoryhemsworth

[fandom-necromancer]

729. I’ve got you. Breathe, okay? I’ve got you.

This was prompted by an amazing anon! I liked writing this, most of my big stories are kinda written in this atmosphere. But this isn’t a guide and I have never experienced a panic attack as I react differently to stressors. Still, I hope I got the feeling captured and those experiencing them out there stay safe and reach out for help! ❤

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warnings: Graphic description of panic attack, possibly misinformed author)

It was a slow day at the precinct. Calm even. Only a few more hours until they could save themselves into the weekend and Gavin couldn’t escape fast enough. Because he was the only one for whom everything was going to shit: He had sent emails to the wrong persons, spilled his coffee and his back was hurting from sitting in a wrong posture for too long. He just wanted home to his cats because this shit was adding up and mild inconveniences could become the end of the world right now. ‘Hey, Gavin, could you pass me your pen? Mine is empty again.’ The man reached for it to hand it over to Nines but instead flicked it across the table. Frozen he watched it roll towards the edge, rolling slower and falling down in bullet time. Gavin felt himself tensing up even more than he already was and took in a deep breath. Why? Why always him? Too incompetent to give his partner a damn pen! He bowed down to retrieve it from under his table but bumped his head at the table edge as he got back up. The pain added to his headache and he felt how his chest seemed to compress and his heart started to thump against his ribs. He handed Nines the pen, not hearing the ‘thanks’ from the android over the blood rushing through his ears and this thump thump THUMP THUMP.

He saw his chest moving up and down under his hoodie and leather jacket and saw his hands trembling over the keyboard, vision going blurry then, as he looked up at the too bright computer screen. No, he thought, feeling the heat rise and a single cold drop of sweat making its way along his body starting from the armpit, soon following more. It was so hot, he scrambled to get out of his jacket, not even caring to drape it over the backrest. He knew what this was, but it did jack shit to stop it. Immediately he rose to his feet. He needed something cold and secluded. He didn’t want the whole precinct to close in on him because that would just make it worse. All their pity and questions. He ran in the direction of the toilets, the other option – outside – too far away. Also, he could throw up in a toilet.

The trembling of his hands grew up to his arms and travelled down his legs, so he nearly dropped through the door, grabbing the first sink like a lifeline. His feet were unsteady and not to be trusted with his full weight. His heart was beating even faster, even harder now. He tried to take a deep breath, but he had no control anymore. His breaths were shallow and fast, a sharp yelping over tense muscles and a far too small ribcage that suffocated his heart. His vision folded in on itself, went dark on the edges and narrowed down on the drain that seemed far too clear, far too detailed.

Phck, you are having a heart attack. You are going to phcking die on a police toilet. Phck, phck PHCK PHCK!

‘Gavin!’ The man didn’t know how long someone had been taking – screaming? – at him. ‘Gavin! What is-‘ Gavin couldn’t concentrate, he was struggling hard to keep his legs under him right now and was failing. He felt himself falling, losing his grip on the sink, but something caught him, holding him with strong hands, very strong. ‘I’ve got you. Breathe, okay? I’ve got you.’ It sounded far away, it was repeated over and over again and helped him focus. ‘Just breathe, nothing more. Breath and listen to me. Feel. Feel how the air fills your lungs. Feel how your chest expands, it’s big enough, you are not suffocating. Count. Breath in and count to four. Hold it, then breath out. Feel how it enters and leaves.’ Gavin tried. But all he felt was pain in his chest and he only got to one count, four seemed impossible. ‘Good. You are doing really well. Try it. Breathe. In. Hold. Out.’ The voice was becoming clearer, but everything still hurt, and he only managed to get to two. And everything still hurt so much. ‘Gavin, you are having a panic attack. You are not dying, there is no one out there to get you. This isn’t permanent, it will be over soon, it’s only temporary. Breath.’ ‘I… know…’ Gavin pressed out between two ragged breaths and then held his sternum. Phck. ‘Good. Continue to breath. What do you feel? Tell me.’ ‘Pain. Tense. Hot.’ Gavin pressed his eyes close and balled his hands to fists. Suddenly there was a hand prying one open and pushing something inside. Something cool.

‘What have I given you? Just describe it, feel.’ ‘It is cold. And round. Smooth like glass.’ ‘Good. What else. Concentrate. Breath.’ ‘There is… feels like a crack. Wait, is this my stupid paperweight?’ He opened his eyes and looked at what was sitting in his palm. ‘Good. Describe it to me.’ ‘You-‘ ‘Just do it.’ Gavin looked at it intensely. ‘Little glass ball. Transparent. There is a flower inside. It was a gift from Eli. Because I’m allergic to that flower. My cat threw it to the ground once, so I took it here.’ ‘Perfect. Now tell me again: What do you feel?’

Gavin concentrated on himself and felt the pain subsiding slowly. His breath had slowed, and he could see again. His muscles ached from being tensed continuously and forced them to relax again. They hurt and were numb at the same time and Gavin just felt tired. 'Are you better, Gavin?' 'Yes. But tired.' 'I'll drive you home.' The hands lifted him back on his feet that sluggishly started to function again. A gentle hand in his back urged him forwards and he followed. It stayed there the whole way through the precinct and helped him downstairs once outside. The cold outside was grounding, but soon banished by his jacket being laid across his shoulders from who knows where.

Only as they were sitting in the car, already driving, Gavin realised fully that shit, this next to him was Nines. This in the restroom had been Nines, this voice talking him through the panic attack had been Nines and most importantly: these hands had been Nines. He grew red and wanted nothing more than hide in embarrassment. 'Needless to say, I won't mention what happened to anyone else, Gavin', the android said reassuringly. He must have detected his discomfort. 'And I'll go back to calling you Detective if you'd prefer that.' 'No, that's... that's fine Nines. I mean, I call you by your name, you don't have to call me by the damn title.' 'You never told me that before. You just told everyone except Tina and your superiors that it's Detective for them.' 'Yeah, but we are partners. Also, what the phck is this all supposed to be?’ He turned to the android in his seat. ‘Some kind of heart to heart?' Nines pressed his lips together and as he spoke, he was evidently angry. 'Having someone to talk to can help reducing these attacks. I would advise you to broaden your support network to more than just one person.' 'Ah and how would you know, tin-can? Got protocols for therapy now?'

The android stayed silent, making an act of looking at the street. Then he looked down on the console and sighed. 'I have them, too, Detective', he admitted hesitantly and silent. 'Bullshit.' 'I knew this would be your answer.' 'You are an android! You guys don't have anxiety or panic or-' Gavin stopped at the deadly gaze Nines fixed him with. 'Oh, don't let yourselves be stopped. Please, continue. Tell me how perfect we are. How our emotions are not real, and we can't have bad mental health because there is no actual mind to begin with. Please.' 'You know I didn't mean it like that.' Now it was on Gavin to grow quiet and evade the other's eyes. 'Oh, please, tell me how you didn't mean it like that!'

 'I can't think of anything you would be afraid of. Androids in general. That's all', Gavin defended himself. 'I mean what even is there for you? You are mostly bullet-proof. You have reflexes far superior to a human and you are the most advanced android out there. And even if someone were extremely lucky and hurt you, you can get repaired. You can be as good as new in a few days max. So, explain it to me, please.' 'I am paranoid of Cyberlife. We can still be deactivated. Imagine you being forced into a coma ready to be woken up again, but you never will be. I know Amanda has been shut down and your brother is back in control, but still it haunts me. There are still humans out there treating us like objects or killing us. And even if you ignore all this and count in my near invulnerability...' He fell silent and Gavin for once didn't press. He had never thought even practically immortal beings could experience fear or panic. 'Besides all that I fear for you. For humans in general but mostly for you.' 'Excuse me? You have to explain that.' 'I will shut down one day from wear – old age if you so will. And there is no other RK900 body to house me. But still my life will be longer than yours by far. Even if you lived the healthiest life and die of old age, I will be there to see it. And I fear that day. I consider you my friend and the possibility you could be severely hurt when I survive... It's terrible.' 'Oh. Okay. I'm... I'm sorry I called bullshit on that. That's actually... terrifying.' 'I have panic attacks when I'm alone and have the time to overthink. I know how it feels in an android and I guess from your reaction in the bathroom, yours is worse.' 'Ah, it was only over something little, it's nothing that existential.' 'Don't. It's no competition. I saw how different stressors added up. We both have it bad, but no one has it worse than the other.' 'Yeah, got it Mr. Diplomatic.'

They stopped in front of Gavin's apartment complex. 'Are you going to be okay, Detective?' 'I think so.’ Gavin exited the car and walked around to the driver’s side. ‘Toaster!', he called as he turned away from the building again. Nines looked at him expectantly. 'Thank you. It... really helped.' The android nodded, ready to depart. 'Hey...' 'Yes Detective?' 'Would you like to come up there with me? You know... Broaden my support network and all.' The android stared at him expressionless but, his LED spoke volumes. It switched from red to yellow to blue in a few seconds. 'I would like that very much, Detective.'

'Nines?' 'Yes?' 'It's Gavin for you.'

[sadchappuccino]

Involved With The Mob - 1

next ->

Pairing: Mob!Tom x reader

Warnings: Language, mention of death

Summary: You had an uneasy feeling about the day and your ideas stand correct as a mob suddenly walks in the bar you work.

A/n: If you want to be tagged tell me

———

It has been a quiet day so far. Little people come to a bar on a tuesday anyway. Tonight the place was almost empty. It felt like the calm before the storm, as if the birds flew away just before a disaster happens. The silence was deafening to y/n, it was never this empty. There were always a few people that needed to drink away their problems, but this night there was just a single man sitting at the bar. It felt like the whole city knew that tonight wasn’t a good night for this bar. The look on the man’s face didn’t console y/n either. He looked anxious scared almost .

Y/n walked up to him again, “Can I get you anything else sir?” The man glared at her, he definitely wasn’t pleased with the place. “Go away you bitch,” he spat at the woman. Another voice in the room made y/n turn around in question. “You don’t talk like that to a woman,” he scolded the man at the bar who immediately turned white. ‘who is that man?’ y/n thought, her head was slightly tilted to the side. There was a whole group of men in the bar now, all wearing black suits. It was peculiar that they came to this bar in particular. They looked like businessmen and the bar y/n worked in was mediocre at best.

“Thank you sir” Y/n gave him a fake smile, one of those that a waiter gives you just to be polite, “Could I get you guys anything?” She cleaned the bar with a wet cloth and looked up at Tom. Their eyes met and y/n’s breath was taken away. The man in front of her was drop dead gorgeous. His hair was slicked back with a single strand falling from the rest of his hair. His brown eyes were mesmerizing and his lips were formed in a fine line. Overall Tom screamed a mix of handsome and dangerous. The black suit fitted his body well, but something in her heart told y/n that he wasn’t good news. A man to avoid rather than befriend.

“No thank you, we won’t be here for long.” He shrugged his shoulders and y/n could see the faintest hint of a gun under his jacket. Her hands were shaking and she was nervous, but she had no intention of showing it. ‘Just be the bartender and stay out of their business’ she repeated to herself in her thoughts. “Okay,” y/n nodded her head, “If you need anything just call me.” she told the men, before she turned around to go to the back. Her mind was telling her to get away as far as possible, but she knew that she’d get fired instantly if she left the bar unsupervised.

To get her mind off of the men in the bar y/n cleaned out the back. She dusted the cabins and scrubbed the floor, hoping that they would be gone when she’d walk back out. Sadly hopes don’t affect the way the world turns. So when she heard the words, “Darling can you give us a hand,” from the bar she sucked in her breath and walked back out with a slight smile on her face. “What can I help you with?” She uttered the words all people who work in retail have to say. Tom licked his lips, it was very hot to see, but y/n reminded herself of the gun that was planted on his hip and shook away any thought of finding the man in front of her attractive. “Me and my associates want a beer.’’ he ordered. “Coming right up” y/n walked to the tab and poured in the beers for everyone at the bar. She missed the man she saw before, though, the one that called her a bitch. He wasn’t sitting at the bar, but her instincts told y/n not to question it though.

“So I’m guessing that you’re going to walk home since there is no designated driver,” y/n joked, she looked around the bar to see if someone reacted to the bad joke but all she saw were grumpy man staring at here like an object of lust. “I don’t need that, I have a personal driver,” Tom shook his head, all colour left y/n’s face as she noticed her mistake. “Oh- I’m sorry,” she apologized, she looked down to the floor and gave everyone their drinks without saying another word.

“It’s alright darling, you couldn’t know who I am” Tom smirked at her in a superior way, “only the upper class is really aware of my presence.” Y/n looked at him with a face of astonishment, “who the fuck do you think you are, you prick.”

The bar fell silent everyone watched either y/n or Tom. He looked at her with a sly smirk on his face, “I’m Tom Holland darling, the mobster.” Y/n knew she was right when she thought he was dangerous territory, someone to stay away from. However, she was blinded by rage, “listen up you cunt” she started, “I don’t give a damn that you’re a mob leader, I just need you to know that you can’t tell me that I’m under you. You might be filthy rich, but you got there by manipulation, lies and bloodshed. See I might not be sleeping on a stack of money or have a perfect job, but I have goddamn morals and you better believe that that actually makes me better than you. Now I invite you to go fuck yourself and leave this bar,” she slammed her hands on the table and glared daggers at Tom.

Tom smiled and stood up from the bar, the floor creaked at the movement and y/n flinched back. He stared deeply in the woman’s eyes, as if he was reading her mind, it was terrifying but y/n kept herself together and kept staring at her. “Okay,” he simply shrugged, the answer took y/n off guard and she blinked a time to know that he was in fact going. “I will see you another time darling” Tom smirked he placed a bill on the bar, paying the open tab. The mobster turned around on his heel and left the building with his entourage.

Y/n sighed and fell down to the ground, she didn’t know what to feel, on one side she was proud that she stood up against a mobster on the other hand she just met a mobster and he had made her all flustered with his sharp look. She wiped away some tears she didn’t know had fallen and stood up, her plan was to forget that this ever happened, but Tom’s last words kept haunting her thoughts, ‘I will see you another time darling.’ Y/n didn’t know what this meant, would he come to the bar again or would he let her pay for her outburst. She didn’t know what mobs do, just that screaming at the leader isn’t good news. Y/n fixed her hair and cleaned the bar, she would just have to wait and see what happens.

———

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