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bingoboingobongo · 1 year

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task force 141 + cuddling

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Warnings: none

A/N: idk if this counts as a holiday hc but idc i wanted to write this. pretend they're wearing christmas pj's idk.

simon "ghost" riley:

alright so when you really get down to it ghost's just a scared guy

i mean not scared in the traditional sense ig but he's pretty paranoid (not that i blame him)

he's definitely the kind of guy that feels pretty vulnerable when he's asleep and because of that (and nightmares) he's never really been a deep sleeper

like he can fall asleep whenever because he's sorta in a state of perpetual tiredness but it's always a super light sleep and he'll wake up at the slightest disturbance (hence the state of perpetual tiredness)

this all culminates into a very specific mindset ghost has when he's sleeping with you

ghost is absolutely petrified of anything happening to you, especially since he can't protect you when he's sleeping, so he's definitely a fan of spooning (with him as the bigger spoon ofc) bc it makes him feel like he's shielding you from harm

he also likes having you so close to him bc one you're nice and warm and two it lets him know your safe

and honestly it's less spooning and more just him trying to cover your entire body with his body

like he will go full on blanket mode

if he could he would just box you in under him and the only reason he doesn't is because he knows he would end up crushing you

he'll hold you really tightly too

like almost squeezing you

and you always think he'll eventually loosen up a little when he falls asleep but he never does

this has two purposes

first is that it keeps you close

and second is that it stops you from moving around excessively

the second one is important especially if you're a chaotic sleeper because he always gets woken up when you move

also he likes having you face him when he sleep so it's sorta like you guys are hugging but sometimes that can get uncomfortable with all the limbs involved

oh yeah he definitely wraps/throws his legs around you in another effort to keep you pinned down

also hot take but he doesn't like being the little spoon

it's too stressful for him because even though he feels protected he feels like you're vulnerable and that's worse

john "soap" mactavish:

alright so starting off soap is a great cuddler

but then as the night progresses... not so much

ik everyone's been saying this but it's because it's the truth

soap is a spreader

no matter what position he starts off in soap will always find a way to spread out

for some reason he also has a tendency to flip over in his sleep a lot

like it always starts out with the him on his back with your head laying on his chest as he rubs circles on your arm and tells you stories about his childhood

and around halfway through the night he might turn over and hug you while he sleeps for a bit

with his arms wrapped around you and your face buried into his chest

but then by the morning

soap is starfished on his belly

one arm is haphazardly thrown across your back/front (depending on how you're sleeping) with one of his legs tangled into yours

lord knows he's drooling too but honestly same

also soap's definitely a blanket stealer but for no reason

like in the middle of the night you'll be waging a war with him for the blanket

just for him to kick it off the bed by morning time

you've tried getting another blanket but it didn't work and he just stole that one too

you're still trying to come up with a better solution

soap also sleeps like but is also weirdly conscious

idk how to phrase it but like it will take everything to wake him up

but also if you even try to sneak the blanket away from him he will know and you will not be able too

also he definitely snores when he sleeps on his stomach sorry

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

ugh rudy my love my precious my darling

rudy lives for cuddles

but he likes to be the cuddled instead of the cuddler

rudy is always down to be the little spoon but honestly that's not really his favorite position

(he almost always has bruises on his side from training so it can be uncomfortable)

instead he likes resting his head on your chest while you sleep

he'll be like half laying on his stomach half laying on you

and he'll tangle his legs into yours and wrap his arm around your stomach

and good god this man will literally spontaneously combust if you play with his hair

pet it, braid it, scratch it

do whatever you want to it he will eat it up

easily the fastest way to get him asleep

he also really loves listening to your heartbeat and syncing his breaths up with yours

it's always so satisfying to hear your heartbeat slow down when you fall asleep

also rudy has like five different blankets on his bed because he's a really cold sleeper

although with you he usually only needs one or maybe two because you're so warm

he's also a surprisingly pretty sleeper

you've been meaning to take a picture but you always forget because for some reason he just has a way of making you sleepy when he lays down on you

he's also a pretty deep sleeper but even then you try not to move because he always looks so happy

sometimes he'll sleep in the crook of your shoulder and then you can turn to face him sometimes

kyle "gaz" garrick:

kyle likes it when you cling onto his side with your arms and legs wrapped around him

he calls you a koala but he will also die if you stop

he just loves seeing you bury your face into his arm

especially with your legs wrapped around his waist

dang he eats it up

sometimes he'll turn to face you so you can cling onto his front

but he is a back sleeper at his core so it works out

he likes to wrap his arms around you and rub circles on your back or play with your hair

and also the smell of your shampoo has pretty much conditioned him to get tired

like there's nothing more relaxing to him than being able to breathe in the scent of your shampoo at night

definitely also whispers random things to you at night

sometimes it's romantic sometimes it's just him going down random tangents until he tires himself out

but it's his favorite part of the day because he gets to have you with him and explore weird thought experiments

sometimes you'll respond but you usually fall asleep pretty quickly he notices

and he definitely has a picture of you wrapped around him as you slept

it's his lock screen on his phone and it always makes him happy

gaz is like a medium deep sleeper

he also somehow stays really still when he sleeps

like he'll go to bed and wake up in the same position

also he always has to keep like one leg out of the blanket or else he gets too hot

john price:

price likes it when you sleep on top of him

like on top on top of him

he wants you to be his personal blanket

he'll cuddle with you this way anywhere too

on the sofa, on the bed, on the floor (?)

(maybe if there's a soft rug or smthing)

he likes to wrap his arms around you and feel you sorta melt into him as you relax

i mentioned smthing in a previous hc about price wanting a weighted heated blanket for christmas

but let's be real

you are the weighted heated blanket

it just makes him feel really secure and protected

and he's holding onto you so he feels like you're safe and protected too

sometimes he wraps a leg around yours too

and yes price is a snorer what can i say

he'll insist he doesn't snore and then let out the most god awful noise you've ever heard

honestly the price girlies are the true heroes for putting up with that

respect.

(i am a price girly too)

alejandro vargas:

alejandro likes the intimacy of cuddling so that's very important

he also likes being the cuddler but he's always down to be the cuddled

he's a fan of the classics like spooning

but usually he prefers a position that's more equal

that's why alejandro loves to fall asleep hugging you with both of you on your sides

maybe your face is buried into his chest and his hand is wrapped around the back of your head

he just likes holding you close to him can you blame him

he definitely plays with your hair too as you sleep

and he loves whispering sweet nothings into your hair as you fall asleep

he's also very physical so he likes to be touching you at all times

generally just a very sweet and considerate lover and cuddler

also he used to be a chronic insomniac before he met you

but feeling how warm you are and hearing you breathe just manages to relax him

so with you he's able to sleep deeply

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ralvezfanatic · 6 months

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Kiss me! Kiss me!! Kiss me again!!!

Spencer Reid x Tall Male!Reader

Garcia steps out to go buy food, leaving Reader and a tired, annoyed and definitely not pouty, Spencer alone for a moment. Unfortunately she forgot something causing her to go back and walk in on the two lovers kissing.

Warnings: Kissing. Being caught. Not really proofread. That's all I can think of, lmk if I missed anything. Reader is taller than Spencer. Whiny Spencer. Sorta OOC

Title stolen off of Kiss Me <3 bc i love Vampyx !!

Word count: 1.2k

"Go on Garcia! It's like..." You check the clock quickly, thinking a second trying to remember the time zones before speaking again.

"...4am in New York!" You finished, wanting Garcia to leave without too much worry.

"3am. It's 3am in New York, the team hasn't called us in a while, and we'll be fine if they do. I'm here! With this genius, we'll be alright for a few hours."

"3am." Spencer mumbled out to correct you.

Garcia looked at you, a smile on her face appreciating your kindness. She stood up, nodding as she finally gave in.

"Okay! You're totally right, lover boy, right right. I can leave for a little, get something to eat quickly." She continued nodding, collecting her things as she talked.

She was hesitant to leave, it was a stressful case, most leads ended up in a dead end. She knew you would be fine if the team needed something, but the stress didn't want to let her go out.

She stopped, wondering if she had everything. "Umm.. yes.. yes?" She listed things off. With a last "yes" she hummed and thanked you again.

"I'll be back soon. I'll bring something for you two, don't worry." She smiled, ruffling your hair.

"Thank you Pen!!" You waved at her, but she was already walking out, her heels clicking with each of her steps. Finally she walks out the door and closes it, leaving you and Spencer alone.

He had injured himself once more, and wasn't allowed on the field for a while so he was left with the tech analysts again. He didn't really mind, spending time with his best friend and boyfriend was not something to be complaining about. He spun a bit in his chair, looking down at the floor, wishing he could go home and sleep. He was tired, uncomfortable and slightly irritated from the case.

You turned to him, watching him move in his chair with a smile on your face finding his movements silly. Even though he was obviously annoyed, he still

"C'mere.." You called to him, rolling your chair closer to him before he even had the chance to move.

You stood up, pulling his arms to make him stand up with you. He looked up, not wanting to stand up but was only met with your pleading eyes.

He sighed and started to stand up slowly, using you as support. You smiled at his compliance, helping him so he doesn't put too much weight on his injury.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You looked down at him, your faces inches apart, a smile on your face.

"Did you make me stand just to stare at me? Or to remind yourself of the small height difference?" Spencer asked you, unamused with the fact he stood for seemingly no reason.

Honestly you didn't know why exactly you made him stand, his questioning made you chuckle though.

"No, of course not." You shook your head and leaned down in an attempt to kiss him.

He blushed and shook his head trying to pull away, or stop you.

"No! We're at work, in your shared little room. It's unprofessional!" He frowned, desperately wanting to give in and just kiss you, but not wanting to be break the rules at work.

"Nobody is going to walk in! It's like.. past 2am, the teams across the country and Garcia just left to buy food, we'll be fine." You insisted, knowing that you two would be safe to kiss.

"No, what if someone else walks in? What if someone comes looking for one of us! What if-".

You quickly cut him off with a kiss, which immediately shut him up. He was still worried, scared someone would walk in, but he didn't do much to pull away from your kissing. Actually, he melted into it quickly, wrapped his arms around your shoulders, both for comfort and support.

You hummed out feeling his arms wrap around you, happy he gave in. You had only meant for it to be a short kiss, but Spencer had let out a small whimper when you pulled away. Now, how could you even think about making your injured boyfriend sad.

You shook your head, a chuckle escaping at his pouty face.

"Thought you said it was unprofessional?" You raised your eyebrow at him, only to be met with furrowed eyebrows and a bigger pout.

"Y/N!" He whined, sounding like a child about to throw a tantrum. You rolled your eyes, leaning down to meet his lips again, but spoke before actually kissing him.

"Don't start stomping your foot now." You laughed before he crashed his mouth into yours, wanting to shut you up from your stupid comments.

He pulled you closer, trying to deepen the kiss which you quickly allowed, turning the supposedly sweet kiss into a small makeout session.

"Hey boy genius and boy genius lover!" Penelope's voice called out from outside, quickly opening the door before either of you could move.

"I forgot my-" She started, the door swinging open and immediately cut herself off seeing you two leaned against the desk.

Spencer quickly broke away from the kiss, but not daring to face her, his face completely red from embarrassment. You looked over at Penelope, cheeks flushed as you continued to hold Spencer by his waist.

"Oh! Am I interrupting, boy.. time..? Sorry sorry.. let me just quickly grab this and leave." She apologized quickly, shuffling in and leaning around the both of you to grab her forgotten item.

She backed up, patting Spencer on his shoulder before she walked out. "Didn't think you had it in you Spencer, making out at work!?"

"Derek is not going to believe this.." She giggled before closing the door and leaving.

Spencer cringed at her comment, knowing Derek was going to tease him about this nonstop for the next month (if not more).

He turned his head up, glaring at you as he spoke.

"See! I told you we'd get caught!" He huffed, pulling his arms off your shoulders and looked away from you.

"Well it's not like I was the only one participating in the kiss was I? Or the one who whined when I tried to pull away." You responded, not appreciating how your boyfriend tried to put the blame all on you.

He let out another annoyed huff at your comment, knowing you were right, but obviously he wasn't going to take the blame when he could just continue to put it on you.

"You gave in to the second kiss when you could have easily just stopped."

"Yeah and then deal with your whining and pouty ass the rest of the night?"

"I don't whine!"

You stare at him, eyebrow raised wondering if he seriously believed that.

He did.

"What? I don't pout, or whine! I'm a grown man, not a child.." He said after a couple of seconds of being stared at.

"Mhm.." You hummed out, not wanting to continue with this anymore. Spencer, of course, did not pout at your lack of response.

"Whatever you say Spencer." You chuckled, giving him a soft kiss on his forehead.

He let out yet another huff, completely unappreciating your comments about his maturity.

You let go of his waist, allowing him to back away and sit back down, but instead he looked at you as soon as you let go. You looked back down at him, wondering why he wasn't moving back to his chair.

"What?"

He turned around, making sure the door was closed before leaning back and tugging on your shirt to meet your lips once more.

#spencer reid x male reader #bau x male reader #criminal minds x male reader #male reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #x male reader

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sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years

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hi hun! a little self-indulgent request, but would you be able to write a fic where eddie helps the reader during a panic attack? like maybe she’s dealing with a stressful situation and she doesn’t like asking for help so she kept all her emotions bottled up until she just brakes down. honestly, you can take this in any direction you want bc i trust your vision completely!

hope you’re doing well 🤍

Bestie, this is the perfect request to fulfill for me right now and I hope it can help you find some peace the next time you need it.

"Hey, Y/n, you in here?" A curious voice rings out across the women's bathroom and the door shuts loudly with a bang. My soft sniffles cease as my eyes flutter shut in frustration, not realizing he had followed me all the way out here.

"Eddie! This is the women's bathroom-"

"It's nine o'clock on a school night, sweetheart, no one cares but you." I pout, my fingers itching to reach out to turn the lock and let him into my stall but anxiety swirls in my belly at the sight of his sneakers under the door. He knocks gently on the door and I can sense that he's leaning up against the cool metal, sighing softly under his breath. "Wanna tell me what's going on?" He asks, his voice softer than usual and much kinder compared to the screeching that comes out of him in the middle of DnD campaigns.

"Just needed a breather." I huff, reaching up to wipe angrily at my eyes, wishing the pathetic tears would just stop so I wouldn't have to explain the mascara streaking down my cheeks.

"On the toilet? Kind of weird if you ask me-"

"Stop picking on me." I grumble, leaning against the door opposite of him, wanting nothing more than to reach through the metal and to link my fingers with his and to feel his arms around me in a moments notice at the sight of my red, teary eyes.

"Alright, alright." He laughs sheepishly and I can picture the blush that spreads across his cheeks, the blush that's almost evident in the way he speaks. "You can talk to me, ya know? It's the perk of being best friends with the biggest loner in all the land." He offers sweetly and my eyes flutter shut once more, a bittersweet smile stretching across my lips.

"There's just a lot going on." I mutter under my breath, a gentle weight being lifted off of my shoulders at the confession, not realizing until now how heavy all of my thoughts have been. I've always been good at holding them in until I talk about them and everything comes crashing down.

"Well, if you don't want to talk, do you want a hug?" He offers but I hesitate, my fingers reaching up to flick the lock and let him in but I don't, I just pause. "I'm notorious for my hugging skills." He hums, tapping once more at the metal.

"I guess I could use a hug." I sigh, opening the door slowly to reveal myself to Eddie, watching his eyes make a once over of me, his beautiful eyes saddening at the sight of me so tired and broken. He doesn't say anything, just reaches forward to pull me into his arms, wrapping them tightly around my waist and pulling me almost off of the ground. My arms don't hesitate to wrap around his neck, playing with the short curls at the back of his neck and I tuck my face into his shoulder.

"I've got you."

It's the three simple words that send me into a spiral, the tears leaving my eyes faster than I can control. He only holds me tighter though probably confused at my sudden out cry, my lips parting as sobs wrack through my trembling body. He grips my waist as if I'll evaporate into thin air but I hold him just as tight, like a lifeline that I never knew I needed until right now.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane2828 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi

@crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee @storytellingwitht

#eddie #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic

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mc-lukanette · 3 years

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do you have any lukanette ideas with chat/adrien salt? the newest episode reignited my annoyance towards him and his stans acting like he didn’t do anything wrong is not helping. i mean, flirting with ladybug while he’s dating kagami? getting excited over a possible akumatization?? and since i know that behavior won’t be addressed bc adrien is “perfect” and “the love square is endgame” therefore he gets a pass for any bad behavior, i was hoping for some fanmade salt (and lukanette is always a great addition to any story)

I can appreciate how starved you guys are to hear me salt on this blog.

But yeah, I came up with something considering that quite a bit of Chat’s behavior happens before Truth appears in “Lies.”

So hear me out--

Truth is a threat, considering that Luka is the only hero outside of Ladybug intended to be a planner. All others take orders directly from Ladybug herself, but Viperion could plan on his own.

This means that Truth realizes quickly that his strategy of asking for the heroes’ identities isn’t going to work because they’ll shout over him every time. He has to get creative and comes up with the idea to divide the heroes.

He comments on their teamwork, perhaps saying vaguely about how their teamwork can’t outmatch his and Pharo’s. Chat obviously takes the bait, talking on and on about how he and Ladybug are the best team and that they’re made for each other.

“Really?” Truth asks casually. “You’ve never done anything against her?”

Chat Noir responds, his white lips moving to say, “Of course I have!”

Ladybug gapes, and Chat looks calm for a second before his eyes immediately widen in panic.

He tries to say that it’s not what he means, but Truth’s power is active, so he just blurts out, “That’s exactly what I mean!”

He tries to cover his mouth with his non-Cataclysm hand, but gets shot by Pharo.

“I told Theo Barbot that we were dating and it got him akumatized!”

“You did what?!” Ladybug asks, having never heard this before.

Chat doesn’t stop - he can’t - and his mouth keeps moving. He admits that he sacrifices himself because he knows it won’t matter since Ladybug will fix it, and it means he’ll always leave an impression on her. He admits that he didn’t care when Nadja or Alya were egging on the LadyNoir ship because he feels like Ladybug will come around eventually. He admits that he doesn’t take her seriously when she goes off on him because “she’s cute when she’s angry.” He admits that he wanted an akuma to happen even though he knew Ladybug was busy, just because he wanted to spend time with her. He admits to telling his kwami he’d quit while Paris was underwater if he didn’t spill what Ladybug was hiding.

Honestly, even Truth at this point is like, “man I wanted to divide your teamwork, not your entire relationship.”

Ladybug eventually manages to snap out of her trance and deal with the whole situation (mostly by herself), but the damage is done. Even after the akuma has been purified and Truth turns back into Luka, Chat’s words linger and Ladybug ignores him.

“Are you okay, Luka?”

“Huh? Ah, yeah, thanks...”

Chat is awkwardly standing nearby, his tail in both hands as he fiddles with it. “So--ah... Bugaboo--”

“Don’t,” Ladybug cuts in, not even looking at him. “Is that why you use that nickname when I’m mad? To butter me up? Try to earn points? Do you think it’s funny?”

“No, no!” He waves his hands frantically. “It’s not--”

“See, the thing is that now I won’t know whether you’re lying or not,” she points out, the situation feeling all to familiar to when Tikki lied to her, only this was worse. She honestly wanted to trust Chat Noir; he was her partner, irreplaceable in the sense that he was there from the start.

But maybe not irreplaceable elsewhere.

“I wouldn’t lie to you!” he swears.

“But you’ll keep things from me,” she counters. She sighs, gently taking Luka’s hand and helping him stand, then addressing him as she says, “I’ll take you home, alright?”

Luka’s gaze briefly flickers between the two of them, but he asks no questions and nods. “Thank you.”

She guides him up the staircase to take him up to the balcony, Chat Noir rushing over to stand at the bottom of the steps.

“M’lady--!”

Ladybug turns to him with a silencing glare. “I really don’t want to be around you right now. We’ll talk later when I’m ready.”

(He’s going to be in for a long talk when they finally meet back up again, and suddenly, he isn’t so eager for an akuma to come rushing by to force them to come back together as a team.)

And with that, Ladybug goes up to the balcony, takes Luka in her arms, and leaves. Things are quiet at first, her taking in a few breaths of the night air as she tries to relax.

The past few days had been a mess, and that was putting it lightly. The kwami, dating, the akuma (that Chat Noir had apparently been soooo excited about), and now this big revelation. The stress must show on her face too, as she can occasionally feel Luka’s concerned gaze on her.

In a way, it’s nice, just having her boyfriend care like this, even when she’s in a mask. He’d put up with way more for her than she felt like he should’ve, and she knew that he’d disagree if she even dared to voice that thought.

Without really thinking, she starts talking to him. She talks about Ladybug, about everything; being thrown into this life that she didn’t ask for, and being happy to save Paris but sad at the emotional toll it takes. She tells him about all the friends who tease her for her lateness, and while it might’ve been funny at first - she was genuinely absent-minded at times - it doesn’t become as funny when knowing that it was something that couldn’t be helped.

“...I’m sorry you’re going through that,” Luka says in an offer of comfort. He sighs, not recoiling from her but it feels like he’s distant anyway. “I know it didn’t help that I was akumatized. I hope I didn’t do anything to Marinette.”

Her gaze softens; of course he’s thinking of her again. It’s Luka, she has no right to be surprised.

Chat Noir, meanwhile, was just thinking of himself.

“Actually,” she corrects, something occurring to her, “I think you might’ve helped in your own way.”

Luka tilts his head at her, puzzled.

She changes course just slightly, specifically to a spot not too far from the Liberty; one that is very familiar to both of them, and she can tell by the way his brows raise that he’s surprised by where she’s about to land.

Underneath the bridge, in the spot where he’d initially asked her - when she was Marinette - where she’d always been going, just before he got akumatized.

She sets him down, then paces around to try and clear her head.

“...Like I said, I didn’t get a lot of choice in this,” she begins. “I tried to give my miraculous up once in the beginning, but there was so much pressure and everything was going wrong. Then, things would just--happen around me, things that I couldn’t really think of--and this is coming from me!” She turns to him dramatically, gesturing to herself. “I imagine things going wrong all the time and I still can’t predict when they actually do!”

Luka chuckles lightly at that, but otherwise stays quiet, unsure of where she’s going with this but giving her his full attention.

“Me becoming the new guardian of the miraculouses so out of nowhere... it was a lot, and suddenly I had a bunch of kwami around my room who all wanted to get into my stuff or mess around. I didn’t choose to let them out; it just happened when I was trying to see how the box with all the miraculouses worked.” She groans a bit, rubbing her forehead as she paces around again. “Then in came Shadow Moth and all the akuma showing up, and now I’m even busier. I can’t even make time for my boyfriend.”

There’s a flicker of emotion in Luka’s eyes at that, but he doesn’t say anything, though his fingers twitch slightly at his sides.

“Then--” She looks down. “--there’s Chat Noir. I didn’t choose him either; the old guardian chose him for me, and he wasn’t even fully trained. I was Chat’s partner and that was it; I didn’t get a choice to give up, it just... was, and I have to deal with whatever the relationship--” She makes a face at the word. “--we have is, because if something goes wrong then everything can go wrong, and then Paris is in danger.”

She shakes her head, realizing that she’s rambling. She continues staring quietly at the ground, then releases the tenseness in her shoulders.

“But...” She looks up to meet Luka’s gaze. “I did choose you, Luka. I finally got to choose something for me, and the only thing I regret about it is everything that I can’t choose. You chose me and I chose you and...” She almost laughs. “It’s weird that it’s that simple for once.”

He’s clearly pieced the puzzle together by now but hasn’t quite processed the result. She can see the whisper of her name on his lips and she smiles at him, taking a step back and spreading her arms wide.

“You’re my real partner, Luka. You get me, you care about me, and we’re similar but different and it’s great.” She swallows, feeling her nerves building a little but pushing forward enthusiastically nonetheless. “So I want to make a choice for us, because we trust each other and I want to give you something no one else has.”

Then, she closes her eyes, taking a breath and briefly tightening her hands into fists.

“Tikki, spots off.”

#((Is there such a thing as *too* many ''Truth'' fix-its?))#type: ideas #type: salt #other: ml spoilers #((I considered sending this ask to my other account but I didn't know if this anon followed me there.))#Flower Arrangement Shipping #episode: Truth #episode: Lies #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

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ilydenji · 4 years

Note

Please do a pt 2 of toxic traits that had kenma, kageyama, and Tsukishima. Please make it fluff in the end🥺. I loved it

❝toxic pt. 2❞

↳haikyuu boys toxic traits part two

characters: kenma kozume, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei

warnings/tw: toxic relationships

a/n: I'm so glad you loved the first one !! I hope this is good enough afndjsmsj

(this kinda long sorry lmfoaodjrnf)

part one here

kenma ;

-its been a few weeks since the two of you had talked properly.

-you did what he wanted, you had broken up with him.

-it felt weird going back to your regular life as if nothing had happened. as if you didn't spend half a year with him.

-it did hurt when you realized he didn't even care. that day when you walked away from him, you doubted that he gave it a second thought.

-but, unknowingly, the whole situation was slowly eating kenma up with guilt.

-after your breakup, he briefly had talked about it with kuroo and that’s when he realized how much of an asshole he really was.

-he missed it when you watched him practice, apparently, the other members of his team did too.

-“where’s y/n? are they okay?” lev would ask the most.

-“they broke up idiot- if you’re wondering how they are ask them yourself” of course, yaku would hit him for even mentioning them.

-up until now, kenma never noticed the little things that you did for him. how you would praise his hard work after practice or a game.

-how you would softly comb your fingers through his hair while playing games. or how you would bring him lunch every day in case he forgot to eat.

-not only that, but he started missing the little things about you as well.

-how your nose would scrunch up when you laughed,

-when you would hold his hand, you’d always rub circles on his thumb.

-how you would hum when playing with his hair.

-all those things, why hasn’t he realized them before? why did he let you go?

-why did he hurt you so bad?

-he wanted to— no, he needed to apologize to you.

-he wanted to be with you again, though he didn’t really think he deserved you anymore.

-he wanted to try anyway.

-you received a text from him in the afternoon. you were hesitant to answer. what could he be asking for? his hoodie that he left a month ago?

-when you finally decided to answer it, it read-

-“Can I please talk to you.”

-he wanted to talk now? he had a chance weeks ago. months even.

-you just sighed and texted back saying yes. he asked if he could come over and you agreed, maybe things would end off on a better note? you’d be lying if you said you didn't miss him.

-when kenma came over, he looked different than how he usually did. he didn't have his psp and he didn't use his phone once.

-he slowly walked to your bed and motioned you to sit next to him.

-“I’ve been a big fucking asshole to you, y/n. I'm so sorry I treated you like that.” he would start.

-he ended up apologizing for everything and told you he never realized how much care relationships need.

-“you deserve so much better. it’s selfish of me to even consider the fact you’d take me back but. I missed you a lot, I'm so sorry for hurting you.”

-you wanted to be with him again, to hold him and tell him it’s alright.

-instead, you rest your hand on his shoulder with a squeeze.

-“it's okay, it’s fine. I messed up along the way as well.” you’d start. kenma kept the same stoic expression he usually had. but you can tell in his eyes, he was hopeful.

-“but maybe we don’t belong in a relationship. maybe not yet at least.”

-kenma understood what you meant.

-in the end, the two of you had agreed that to ever get back into a relationship again he had to work on letting himself be vulnerable around you.

-he had promised to be better for you, and wait until you were ready to be with him again. although you had promised to be with him sometime in the future, the pang in his chest didn't fully go away.

-the day ended with him in your arms, comforting him.

-his arms were wrapped around you, his head in the crook of your neck.

-“kenma, I still love you. you know that right?”

-kenma didn't exactly answer. instead, he pulled you closer to him. you could feel his smile against your neck.

-you both still loved each other but decided to take it slow this time. not wanting to hurt each other.

kageyama ;

(reader is into photography bc that's the only thing I could think of I'm sorry lfmsoakedjdnsn)

-it’s been a few days since his last game, where he basically told you that you “clearly didn’t love him”

-in those few days, kageyama couldn’t explain what he was feeling.

-he always had trouble expressing his emotions. so he often ignored them.

-but this time, there was a pit in his stomach that just wouldn’t go away. whenever he looked at his phone he would be tempted to call you.

-he wasn’t so sure if that was a good idea, but the silence was killing him.

-one day during practice he had asked hinata if he had seen you.

-hinata nodded and told him you were out in the courtyard doing club activities.

-kageyama didn't know you were in a club? though, he hardly payed any attention to that stuff.

-he wondered how he could be so clueless, you two have been together for months.

-that day, he skipped practice. that on its own was a whole different story.

-he managed to find you outside, taking pictures of the flowers and anything remotely interesting you could find.

-but no matter how mundane, kageyama didn't fail to notice the smile you had.

-he recognized that look in your eye, that was the look he had whenever it came to volleyball. how could he have not realized how happy your little hobby made you?

-he wanted you to be happy, to see you smile with so much passion like that.

-kageyama approached you cautiously, trying not to scare you.

-“what do you want kageyama?” you started. it startled him a little.

-you didn't need to turn around for you to know he was there. hinata had texted you that kageyama was coming, of course.

-“Nothing... I just.. missed you I guess” he sat down next to you. neither of you had talked, it became awkward fast.

-“so... you like photography? I didn’t know”

-“of course you wouldn't.”

-kageyama cringed at the words. you weren’t wrong in the slightest, he had been ignoring your interests for the longest and he feels like such an ass for it.

-“I'm sorry for not paying attention” he stated. you nodded at his words. but that wasn’t enough for him.

-“I should’ve payed more attention to you, it’s my fault I got so caught up in my own head” still, you didn’t say anything but you did turn your attention to him. progress he thought.

-“I should’ve realized that this, is just as important to you as volleyball is to me.” he rested his hand on top of yours. in return, you squeezed his a little. he smiled softly.

-“I’ll give you more of my attention from now on. okay? I'm sorry y/n. I love you, I really do.” he finished. and that’s what you wanted to hear.

-you wanted him to acknowledge his wrongs and apologize. you knew kageyama struggled with his emotions sometimes but he would eventually come around.

-you rested your head on his shoulder.

-“did you really skip practice for me?”

-“of course I did”

-by the end of the day, kageyama had learned that relationships aren’t just a one-sided thing. that you cant constantly be supporting him without him supporting you.

-he promised to you that no matter what it is that you would do, he would be right by your side cheering you on.

tsukishima ;

-the days had turned to weeks, and tsukishima was barely paying any attention to you. after your little fight, it was clear that he wouldn’t say a word until you said something first.

-but you were scared to.

-how could you not be? his teasing crushed your self-esteem.

-you would notice things about yourself that you never saw before. picking at your skin for the tiniest imperfections.

-or even trying to change your appearance in any way you could to seem different, but in the end, tsukishima didn't pay attention.

-but someone else did, yamaguchi. he was close to tsukishima and knew what was going on.

-he was the first one to comfort you after your fight with your boyfriend. he promised to you that the things he said weren’t true and he never meant it.

-yamaguchi was slowly replacing tsukishima as the days went by. still, the two of you remained friends.

-“I think you should talk to him, y/n. he misses you I know it” he told you one day. he was on his way to practice and asked you to come with.

-you didn't know if that was really true but you decided to put your trust into him.

-instead of going into the gym yourself, you waited for practice to end nearby. you didn't want to be a distraction.

-when practice did end, tsukishima and yamaguchi ended up being the first ones to come out. yamaguchi was smiling as he yelled out for you. tsukishima stayed silent.

-walking towards the two made your anxiety rise. it was nerve-wracking honestly.

-the three of you ended up walking to the gate before yamaguchi told you that he had somewhere to go first and he’d meet you two later.

-after that, it was just the two of you. you noticed how although his house was in the opposite direction, he still walked with you. you smiled a little at that.

-“So what’s up with you and yamaguchi?” he said bluntly. the abrupt interaction kinda scared you a little.

-“Nothing, we’re just friends. why?”

-“nothing. I just don't like seeing you all friendly with him.”

-“Are you jealous?”

-“I guess so”

-his words were so blunt it left you confused.

-you asked him how he could say something like that when he’s been ignoring you for days. and not only that but just straight-up bully you.

-tsukishima stayed silent at that. he had stopped walking at this point, and so had you.

-“listen. I'm sorry for saying those things to you, I was just stressed and took that out on you. I never meant to hurt you y/n, I mean it” you knew tsukishima wasn't the type to talk so openly about how he felt.

-he probably meant it.

-it doesn’t take away the fact that it hurt you. you told him what his words had done to you, that you had tried to change yourself for his approval.

-at this, tsukishima brought you into a hug. he held you close to him, softly petting your hair.

-“I'm sorry y/n, I’m sorry for taking it too far, for making you think so low of yourself. I promise you I never thought those things about you, I was just mad. I should’ve never taken it out on you.”

-at this point, you didn't know if you should be happy about it or cry.

-“it hurt tsukki.” was all you said to him.

-“I know. I'm so sorry y/n, I understand if you cant forgive me.” he pulled away from you to move your hair away from your face, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

-“I understand that I’ve hurt you. you don't need to forgive me. but please know that I love you so much.”

-afterward, tsukki ended up walking you home, holding your hand the rest of the way.

-he knows things might not go back to being the same, but he’s willing to work on letting you past his walls, being nicer towards those he loves, you especially.

-you know old habits die hard and that relationships aren’t always easy. but this was a journey you both were willing to take. both learning from each other to make sure this never happens again.

——-

I'm really hoping this is okay uh- I tried to make this as wholesome as I could but continuing the theme from last time. I might have to just make fluff has for these three after HANDFJDNN (i’m also very sorry for my terrible english @(*$@*(24)

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atalana · 2 years

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alright @toshitophchan, it’s time for the angsty one, bc dear god is the nightmare man a fucking episode

like we got to see everyone’s worst fears in that one - rani’s scared that her desire for answers will get someone hurt, clyde’s scared of being useless and abandoned (which comes directly from all the stuff with his dad and he and luke honestly have a lot in common here), sarah jane’s been scared of so much throughout her life but right now it’s losing the people she loves - and then there’s luke, who’s terrified of being alone, and more importantly, that any choice he makes that prioritises his own wants over someone else’s, will end with everyone he loves turning on him.

and like, i could link this to the luke is super autistic thing, the fear of change is definitely present in this episode, everyone’s going through it (and honestly rani is the only person in this episode who isn’t having abandonment issues), but it goes deeper than that, luke is scared of being used.

and of course he is! because that’s what he was designed for, he was never supposed to be a person at all. as sarah jane keeps telling him, he saved the world the day he was born, but that moment in the factory wasn’t just a victory, it was the first time he came face to face with mrs wormwood since he woke up. and we know from the s2 finale that that matters. he may not want to care about her, but some part of him knows she’s responsible for his existence, he can’t just ignore that. and the first thing she does? tell sarah jane (not even luke himself, because she didn’t see him as a person) that luke is no longer needed, and tries to kill him. he’s been alive for only a few hours at this point, he’s still learning the fundamentals of how the world works, and one of the few things he knows is that he very nearly died because his creator didn’t need him anymore.

and season one reinforces the fact that he’s around bc he’s useful, because aliens keep taking advantage of him. he doesn’t know anything about how a normal school works, so he accidentally helps the slitheen almost destroy the world. he doesn’t know what to find suspicious in a stranger, so he gets kidnapped by nuns and used as a hostage against sarah jane. the slitheen’s entire plan in the lost boy involves using luke to make money, which is sabotaged by mr smith who wants to use luke to free the xylok.

season two, he’s taken by spellman to use against sarah jane. mrs wormwood targets his friends because she wants her human servant back. even some of his victories, like being the only one who could stop truman in secrets of the stars, it’s not because he did anything special. he saved the world because he existed. and that’s good for getting him to realise being different isn’t bad, that victory definitely does help him in some ways, but it’s not doing anything to make him feel like an actual person, rather than just a useful tool.

and his friends try to help, but they don’t always know what to do either. when mr smith is about to explode in prisoner of the judoon, clyde and rani both start arguing about the best way luke can solve that problem, and it’s just stressing him out more, trying to solve this and be everything they want him to be at the same time. most telling is the argument he has with sarah jane in mona lisa’s revenge, the first time he’s properly spoken his mind, and what does he say? “i don’t know what you want from me! you say you’re trying to give me a normal life, but when i act like a real teenager, you want me to be perfect again!”

and that gets right to the heart of it, because he doesn’t feel like a person. he feels like he’s been putting on a show of being a person, and even after two years, he still can’t get it right. “real teenager” sets a very clear line between luke and his peers, he’s not one of them, never has been. and he doesn’t know how to be what everyone wants him to be, and that scares him, because if he’s not what people want him to be, what is he? and what if they do what mrs wormwood did, and decide he’s more of a problem than a solution?

and then we get to the nightmare man. because this is the first time luke’s made a choice for himself, not to try and please other people. he’s excited about university, but he knows he’d be leaving his friends behind, that rani and clyde would be envious, and that sarah jane would be either alone, or worse, relieved he’s gone. which scares him so bad it opens the door for the nightmare man. and in his nightmares? his friends are jealous and spiteful, they don’t want him around anymore, they never needed him in the first place. sarah jane adopts a new son, who she likes much better than she ever did luke. the world moves on without him and he’s trapped in an endless void, utterly alone.

and the nightmare man guilts luke about it constantly - it’s luke’s nightmares that are letting him take physical form, soon he’ll put the whole world to sleep and it’ll be luke’s fault, with nothing he can do about it. he can’t be useful here, because he is the problem. the nightmare man also targets clyde and rani with exactly the same isolation tactics - luke’s so much better than you, he’s leaving you behind, why should you bother to help him when it won’t benefit you at all? stop looking out for him and look out for yourselves.

but luke asked for their help.

and i think this is honestly one of his biggest character moments in the whole series - he asked for their help, with nothing to give and no reason in his mind why he would deserve it. and they came back to him because they cared.

(it’s another reason why sky was such a great addition to the show, bc, sarah jane adopting another kid once he left was explicitly one of his worst fears. but no, he’s an amazing older brother to her and he loves her, and sarah jane can love them both at the same time, it doesn’t mean he’s not needed or that anyone’s forgotten about him)

(and, as mentioned in my sky post, i think having him as a brother helps her a lot too)

but i think a lot about him in the end of this episode describing himself as the boy who was made by aliens to destroy the world. like that’s a lot more explicit about that than he’s ever been before, because he’s still kinda scared of being that, of not being human, of being dangerous. it’s another thing that shows up in his nightmares this episode, not just the idea of him being a problem, but specifically being seen as an alien and a threat. he was created to destroy the world and the nightmare man almost had him believing he fulfilled that purpose. “because he’s coming for me, you see? he’s been waiting for me for years” is one of the things he says on that recording, “a whole world of nightmares for me to feed upon, i’ll grow stronger and stronger, and it’s all because of you” is something the nightmare man tells him.

and now he gets to turn that on his head. because yeah, he was made for one thing. and he denied it, again and again. this is a great episode for personal agency on all the kids’ part, but particularly luke’s, because he realises, properly, that he gets to decide who he is. four years spent trying to live up to other people’s expectations, to try and cover for the way he was made, he doesn’t have to. because yeah, people have tried to use him over the years for many many nefarious plots, and he’s helped stop all of them. so yeah, he can admit it now, because it’s not who he is. it never was. and i think this is the first step in realising that his friends, his family? they know. and they’re always gonna care about who he is, even when he didn’t know himself

#i don’t know if his repeated ‘i’m alright’s while actively dying in the gift count towards this so much but they do hurt me #but yeah i love him?#and this whole found family cares about each other so much #sja #sarah jane adventures #luke smith #words

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harryhandstan · 4 years

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gotta get better

gif credit

This concept has been in my head for a while now and it took me like a month to write and edit and just get it all out! I had surgery two years ago today and it was one of the most emotional, stressful experiences of my life simply bc I’m just a big baby lol. This is just something to celebrate that day and the fact that I’m still so happy it’s all over! Fluffy af as usual cause that’s all I know how to write. :)

Thankful to @bfharry and @bopbopstyles for not only inspiring me with their amazing writing but pushing me towards finishing this and reaching (even going over) my personal 5k goal! I appreciate you both so much!!

I recently saw a post about tagging triggers properly so I’m gonna do it that way but if I do it wrong or it doesn’t work PLEASE let me know and I will fix it immediately (just want to be sure all my bases are covered)

// needles tw, pills tw (prescription), anxiety tw // (if I missed anything I should’ve tagged please please let me know!!) and I’m sure there are some medical inaccuracies bc that whole day is kind of a blur for me haha

as always likes/rbs/comments are welcome but absolutely not necessary :)

final word count: 7.1k

"Y'nervous, angel?"

"Hmm?"

"Bout to chew your finger off. I know there can't be much of a nail left."

Your hand drops back to your lap. You hadn't even realized you were doing it. A bad habit of the nervous child you thought you'd long forgotten. He offers his left hand and you accept it, thumb swiping over the cross painted across his skin. He knows it's one of your favorites and you're thankful for the comfort. You don't know how many times he'd teased you about how you would eventually rub it off one day and he'd have to get it redone.

"S'a routine surgery, I bet they do them all day. You're gonna be fine."

You'd been over all this a thousand times before. Harry had to ban you from looking up the procedure online at one point. You became obsessive with worry. What if you're still awake when they cut into you and you can't talk? What if you feel everything and can't tell anyone? What if you don't wake up? He had shot down every one of your horrifying theories.

"How much longer before they take me back?"

"Nurse said it would be about 10 minutes when we checked in. Shouldn't be too much longer. Want me to check the board again?"

Checking in had only consisted of a nurse taking your name and giving you your bracelet for the day with an ID number. The number would help Harry stay updated on where you were throughout the whole process. The "board" was simply a tv mounted to the wall that frequently cycled through each patient's last name and ID number.

"No, no," You cling to his sleeve like a desperate child, "Don't leave again. She said they wouldn't update anything until I went back anyway."

Harry had left you only briefly when you first arrived. Hands in his pockets, wandering around like a lost child around the big, open expanse of the waiting room. He stayed where you could see him and the whole time you had anxiously chewed your bottom lip until he returned. You hated it, but you knew he was just as nervous as you. So you let him have that moment. To check his surroundings and release some of the nerves so he could come back to you, calm and cool as always.

When the nurse does call your name, you almost jump out of your skin. You freeze, unable to move. Harry stands and flashes the nurse a quick smile before turning back to you and offering his hand.

You shake your head, "I can't do this, H. I feel like I'm gonna throw up if I move."

"You're not, promise. Remember those breathing exercises we practiced? Do those. C'mon..deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out. Do it while we walk."

Slow deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out.

You remember how silly you felt the first time you did it. How it made you giggle at first. This is never going to work. But eventually it did. Anytime you got upset or started to overthink about this day, Harry made you stop whatever you were doing and sit down. Breathe.

It was a little difficult to do while walking. Your body wanted to pause your steps when your breath paused, but Harry tugged you along, you almost hiding behind him until you made it through a set of heavy wooden doors to a small space with a hospital bed and a curtain drawn in front of it.

The IV had had been your biggest dread, the fear overriding any logic that it was something you needed, instead of something the nurses decided to do simply to torture you.

Your face twists into a wince of pain when the needle goes into your vein, Harry standing over you, his face a mirror of your own as you squeeze his hand. When the nurse pulls away with a triumphant "all done!" you flash a look of surprise between your arm and Harry.

"Not that bad, eh? Think ya overreacted a bit about how bad that was gonna be?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to shoot him a nasty look for teasing you.

"Maybe a little." You pinch your index finger and thumb together, indicating a minimal amount.

"Tiny bit more, babe," Another nurse appears from around the curtain and he laughs before speaking to her, "it's all she's worried about all morning."

"Honestly that's everyone's least favorite part. The rest of the day should be aces if you can handle that!"

Harry settles himself into a chair while the nurse goes through a myriad of questions. Any other surgeries? Allergies to medications you know of? Do you smoke? Drink?

Harry snorts when you say no to drinking, but quickly clasps his hand over his mouth when the nurse's head snaps to look between you and him.

"The occasional drink is fine, no worries. Nothing this morning though, right?"

"No, ma'am."

Your eyes meet his, a mischievous grin still plastered across his face. He mumbles a quick "sorry" while you try to pull your concentration back towards the nurse and the remainder of her questions.

"Alright, time for the good stuff," she passes you a small clear cup with two white pills, "First one is just something to keep you calm and relaxed, second one is to prevent any pain after the procedure. They'll give you something to make you sleepy when you get to the OR, but this might make you a bit loopy for now."

"This should be fun." Harry claps his hand in front of him, rubbing them together quickly. He leans forward in his chair, as if ready for a show.

"Yeah? Is she a happy drunk?"

Harry had only ever experienced you high on any sort of prescription medication once, almost a year ago when you went on a girl's trip with your best friend and twisted your ankle in an attempt to make it back to her car after dinner out one night. You calling him from an unknown ER in the middle of the night had terrified him enough to start packing a bag to fly to you before your best friend could grab your phone and assure him you were fine and she would put you on a plane home to him in two days as planned. He had teased you endlessly when he picked you up from the airport and for the next few days afterwards as you limped around on a bruised, ACE bandage wrapped foot.

But after too many wine drunk nights to count, he had enough stories to humiliate you with and the thought of any one of them being told now had you sinking further into the hospital bed.

"You could say that. Last time she.." His voice trails off at the sight of your eyes, wide as saucers, begging him to stop.

The nurse grins, her face kind and sympathetic to your silent cry for help.

"We're a little behind schedule this morning so it may be about 20 minutes before they come transport you, okay?" You nod, the effects of the sedative already working its way through your system, "Keep an eye on her? Make sure she behaves?"

"Yeah, I got her. We'll be fine, thank you so much." He's closer now, standing next to you again, a hand sliding up your arm to settle on your shoulder. You manage a thumbs up and a sleepy "thank you" as an affirmation that you appreciate all she's done for you.

"You're more than welcome. You'll have a different set of nurses in recovery but if you need anything until they come get you, just let me know, alright?"

"We will, thanks." His thumb ghosts across the front of your collarbone, the lightest of touches to soothe you, his eyes still focused on the nurse.

"Good luck! You're gonna do just fine, I promise."

The second she's around the curtain, Harry nudges you lightly, "Scoot."

"Huh? What do you mean..Harry, there's not enough room for you in this bed." Your head feels too light to deal with his nonsense now.

"Yeah there is if you scoot. C'mon. Hurry before we get caught. M’supposed to be keeping an eye on you, remember? Gotta make sure you don't fall outta the bed."

He's already wedged himself next to you, trying to make his tall frame fit into the limited space.

You move over as much as you can, the rail of the bed poking into your hip.

He tucks one arm behind your head, the other one thrown behind his own as a cushion.

"You feel more relaxed now, lovie?"

You scrunch down in the bed, just enough that you can tuck your head under his other arm, "A little. I don't feel sleepy enough though," Your eyes dart up, seeking the comfort of his face, "I'm scared, H."

"I know you are, baby," the hand behind your head shifts to cup around your arm, pulling you closer, "Just pretend you're home with me and we're taking a nice little nap together, yeah?"

"But you won't be there with me, not really."

"I'll be there when you wake up though. First thing you'll see when you open your eyes, promise." He runs a finger along the curve of your nose, "Close your eyes. Try to sleep, hmm?"

You shake your head, turning towards him to hide your face in his side, inhaling his scent.

"Want me to turn the light off? Would that help?"

"No," You toss the arm that isn't trapped between you two over him, holding tightly to his shirt, "Stay."

"Alright, then. We'll just wait," He tilts his head to rest closer to yours, "Have you thought about what you want to eat after?"

"Not really. M'too nervous to think about food."

"We'll think of something good. Whatever you want."

"You're gonna get us in trouble, better scoot back to your corner like a good boy." Your words come out unintentionally slurred and you weakly push yourself up and away from him as he slides off. He doesn't sit though, just stands near you, an anxious look flashing across his features.

"Hey, c'mere. Gonna be fine, routine surgery, remember?" You stretch your arms out to him, a plea to be near his warmth again.

He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. You tug lightly at the sleeve of his cardigan, a feeble attempt to pull him closer. He indulges you, his brow still creased with distress.

"Know ya gonna be fine, just hate you have to go through it at all. Wish I could take it from you without all this." He gestures to the IV he knows you despise so much.

"You have helped take it from me. All the sleepless nights you spent up with me, holding my hair back when I got sick. All the days after when I was too drained to get out of bed. You were there for as much of it as you could be. And you pushed me to go see the surgeon in the first place. You've helped me more than you give yourself credit for."

His fingers intertwine in yours, the pad of his thumb soothing over the front of your hand.

"Make sure you keep my phone with you, my mom will probably call you every 30 minutes for updates." A yawn stretches across your face, "She has your number too, bullied me into giving it to her last week when I called to tell her about the surgery."

He nods, patting his pocket to make sure both phones are still nestled there together.

Another yawn threatens to escape and you muffle it this time, more content to fight sleep to stare at Harry; his hair a perfect mess of curls under the harsh brightness of the hospital lighting. His face is more relaxed now, his eyes still focused on your fingers tangled together. He catches you, your eyes glazed over, too heavy and threatening to close.

"Darling, please close your eyes. I can see how tired you are," His fingertips sweep delicately over your nose again, as if he was lulling a baby to sleep, "You don't have to stay awake for me."

"Closing my eyes for just a second, alright? Not because you told me to though. I want to. Wake me up in 2 hours, don't wanna sleep too long."

Your eyes are already drifting closed, the last thing you hear is a chuckle; effortless, light as air, "I will, promise."

Soft kisses pressed across your face, "Sweet dreams, love."

His voice is the first you hear as you wake up in the dimly lit recovery room. Well, really it was more like a big cubicle, another space with a curtain drawn in front of it. Even with the floaty, dreamy feeling flowing through your system, you can still detect the worry in his voice.

"Harry?" It takes your mind a minute to catch up and process where you are and what had happened.

Oh yeah. Surgery day. No more annoying gallbladder. No more sleepless nights. Freedom to eat what you want and not be haunted by nausea and sickness from what you ate.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?" Suddenly a nurse in bright blue scrubs is there, way too animated and loud at the moment, "Pain scale 1-10?"

"I don't have any pain. Zero." You're aware of how high you sound and a giggle escapes through the haze. That earns you a smile from Harry, one that lights up his whole face and makes his dimples shine through.

"Awesome! Well then as soon as you're good and awake we're gonna get this IV out and go over some paperwork for both of you to sign. I want you to drink something for me too, so what would you like?"

You request a ginger ale and as soon as the nurse leaves to retrieve it for you, Harry scoots the chair he's sitting in as close to the bed as possible.

"How long was I out?"

"Couple of hours," He absentmindedly fixes your hair, looping various curls back around to their respective places, "Took a little longer than expected, you had a small infection so they had to make sure it hadn't spread."

"How much longer?"

"Long enough you had us all slightly worried." His hand trails down your cheek to cup your chin gently, urging you to look at him, "You sure you're not in pain? Now's not the time to do that stubbornly brave thing you do where you pretend nothing's wrong."

"I feel fine, really. Just a little tired, ready to go home."

He studies your face, trying to find any trace of dishonesty. When he's satisfied you're being truthful, he stands and extracts your phone from his pocket.

"Already talked to ya mum, but your co-workers were all texting you, asking how you were. Figured you'd want to handle that yourself, didn't know how much detail you would want to give them."

"Did you give my mother all the details? Infection and everything?"

"Um, no. I knew better than to do that. Promised her you would call when I got you settled at home."

"You promised or she demanded?"

"Okay..she politely asked that you call her when we get home."

"That sounds more like her." You roll your eyes, pushing yourself so you're sitting more upright in the bed.

"She just worries about you." He adjusts the pillow behind you, fluffing and tucking it where you direct it, against your lower back.

"I know. I'll FaceTime her when we get home to prove I'm alive."

"It's been a while since we've seen them, maybe we should plan a visit?" He plops himself back in the chair, leaning back as far as he can go; hands behind his head, eyes closed. You'd both gotten very little sleep the night before, you were too anxious and he was too gracious to let you suffer alone.

"Oh please, I'm lucky I even got time off to do this. My boss would never allow another break so soon."

"Maybe for the holidays?"

"Maybe..but only if you can go with me, you know they love you more than me by now anyway."

"They do not," He peeks one eye open at you, "They love us both equally."

You shoot a quick text to your co-workers, using the group chat between the few of you to make it easier.

I'm out! Feeling okay for now but that might change later lol

The nurse is back, apologizing for taking so long, "We've been so behind all day, it's crazy busy. I had to wait for your doctor to sign off on your release." She hands you a can of ginger ale, white bendy straw already poised and ready for you.

"Just need you to sign here," She holds a clipboard and a pen out to you and you balance the can dangerously in one hand while you scribble something that resembles your signature. Close enough. She gestures for you to pass the clipboard to Harry, "His signature goes under yours, just says he's responsible for you for the next few hours until everything wears off."

"This means I'm the boss, right?" He leans over to grab the board, a wink thrown in your direction. He's enjoying himself way too much at the thought of being in control of you for the next few hours. Smug son of a bitch.

She takes the clipboard back and pulls off a yellow sheet of paper, "This is just your copy of what you signed, and also has post op instructions for your bandages. Your prescription's been sent to the pharmacy, and there's a brief summary of pain management information on the bottom there just in case you need it."

"Thank you." You transfer it right to Harry's waiting hand, knowing he'll be the one surveying every word, making sure you follow everything to the letter.

"I know you mentioned earlier having a little bit of a drive home, so probably once you get her some food and pick up her prescriptions, it'll be time for another round of meds. Okay?" She turns to you again, "I know it sounds silly, but one of the most important things after this particular surgery is lots of walking. Otherwise you'll be miserable. Rest for a while when you get home, then get up every 10 minutes or so until bedtime. Don't let her skip that part, alright? Very important."

"I heard you weren't a big fan of this thing," She nods towards the IV in your right forearm, "So this'll probably be the best part of this whole process for you. We'll get this out and then you can get changed and we'll get someone to wheel you down and out of here, alright? Don't look and you won't even know when it's gone."

"Hey, think about what you want to eat, huh? Your first freedom meal. Yay!" He slips his hand into your left, raising your connected hands victoriously. You didn't think it was possible for you to love him anymore until this moment. The way he could so easily erase your fear was one of his many gifts you adored him for, "What are we having, babe?"

You don't even hesitate before answering, "Pizza, from Milano's. It's my favorite, other than that one place in Italy you took me to. Please? Oh and one of their salads, with the little bread knots on the side!"

He glances at the nurse, awaiting a reprimand for your meal choice.

"As your nurse, I feel I should remind you that while you can have anything you feel like eating, we usually recommend something small and light at first. Broth or soup with some toast, maybe. The salad may be fine, but the pizza might be a little heavy. Taking it slow would be best. But everyone is different."

"So..just cheese then? Maybe some mushrooms?"

You let your head fall back against the pillow, a foggy haze settling over you, "Plain cheese, no mushrooms."

"Alright, sounds good. Why don't I go call it in and pull the car around? Meet you out front?" He leans closer, a quick peck to your cheek before pulling his hand loose from yours and turning to leave.

"Hey, wait," You attempt to tug at his wrist, but fail, your brain still set to slow-motion. He takes pity on you and returns to your side, "Let's eat there. It's in the mall so we can window shop after we eat."

"You sure? You still seem a bit tipsy, honey."

You don't feel tipsy. Just tired, and hungry. Very hungry. As if on cue, your stomach makes a remarkably loud noise; an objection at not being fed for the past 12 hours.

"Alright, alright, calm down. " You let out an embarrassed groan when you realize he's talking to your stomach, "We'll eat there."

He kisses you again, closer to your mouth, "Missed."

"I did, huh?" He chuckles, close enough to your face now your noses are almost touching, "Let's try again."

This time his lips meet yours and you know he missed on purpose the first time by how amused he looks when he pulls away.

"One more for luck?" You can't resist letting the back of your hand wander over his face, before resting the palm of your hand against his cheek.

"I think I can handle that," He smiles before landing another quick peck to your lips, "Be good for the nurse while I'm gone. I'll have the getaway car ready in 10, yeah?"

You're certain Harry would have fed you if you would have let him, right here in the mall food court in front of everyone. But you refuse, insisting even, on carrying your own tray to the table. He chuckles when you pull your phone out of your sweater pocket to take a picture of your food, quickly uploading it to Facebook.

He watches you closely as you take the first bite, even pulling his own phone out to sneak a photo of you when you temporarily close your eyes to appreciate the indulgence of being able to eat one of your favorite foods again; free from that anxious feeling of whether or not it would settle right with your body later. You open your eyes the very moment after he captured the image.

"Harry!"

"You just looked so happy! I couldn't help it. You know I'll never post it anyway. Snagged a few of you earlier in your little blue cap they made you wear too." He flips back through to show you. You try to snatch the phone away, but he's too quick to pull his hand back and stash his phone in his pocket.

"When??"

"After you fell asleep, right before they came to take you back."

He takes a bite from his own generous slice of pizza in front of him before gesturing to your tray, "How is it?"

"Amazing. Even better than before, if possible."

His smile is bright, loving the satisfaction of seeing you actually enjoy food again.

Your plan to walk around the mall was cut short, you could barely make it through one store without yawning. You cling to Harry most of the way back to the car, his arm securely wrapped around you to keep you steady.

You doze off on the drive home, and when your eyes flutter open you find him opening the passenger door, offering a hand to help lift you out of the car and up the stairs into the house. Your foot stumbles on the first step, failing to make contact and you almost fall back.

"Easy," He giggles, an arm thrown behind your back to catch you before encouraging softly, "Try again."

When he's confident you're stable enough on your feet, he lets go to unlock the door.

You're greeted by a bouquet of flowers, a colorful arrangement of roses and lilies from Harry's band mates. You immediately recognize Sarah's handwriting on the card and make a mental note to shoot everyone a thank you text later. You don't know if it's the medication still in your system, the exhaustion of the day, or the overwhelming amount of love that makes you teary eyed.

Harry stands behind you as you admire the flowers and the card, arms curving around to hug you, careful of the large bandage on your upper abdomen and the two smaller steri-strips on your right side.

"How did they know pink roses were my favorite?"

"They love you, peach." He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Besides, you've only mentioned growing up with a pink rose bush in your Nanna's garden about a hundred times."

"I always loved it. Still do."

Your mind travels back to your earliest memories spent there; summers when you practically lived at the small house on the hill. Helping pick tomatoes and peppers from the garden, too warm afternoons spent with a book in your lap under the shade of a peach tree, your grandfather's corny jokes and loving smile. Your Nanna's too generous portions of food contributing to the few extra curves you still carried with you to this day.

You don't even notice the tears at first. They slip down your cheeks and land on his arm. Once you realize, you try to quickly wipe them away, but Harry sees.

"Hey..c'mon, I think your high's wearing off a bit, bub. Pajamas, meds, nap. Sound good?" He turns you to face him, using the sleeve of his shirt to brush away any tears that still linger at the corner of your eyes.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 3..why?"

"No nap. I'll never sleep tonight, and you know how grumpy I get when my sleep schedule is thrown off." Even with your declaration of not wanting a nap, you can't help but rub your eyes, a weak attempt to keep yourself awake. Any resolve Harry had to try to convince you to nap melts away. A smirk on his face, he knows you'll eventually crash later, most likely on his chest or in his arms. He's content to let you be stubborn for now.

"Okay, then. New plan. Pajamas, meds, movie. Better?"

"Better. You get everything ready and pick the movie while I change?"

"You don't wanna pick the movie?"

You wave him off, already shuffling towards the bedroom, "You're the boss today, remember?"

You take your time gathering what you need to get cozy for the rest of the day, selecting an oversized, well-worn tie dye t-shirt and leggings from your dresser. You even take a moment to dip into Harry's extensive sweatshirt collection, grabbing your favorite one. It's amazingly soft and still smells of him, a faint scent of his cologne and well..just Harry. You couldn't imagine anything more comforting.

In your pursuit to feel more lucid, you venture into the bathroom, taking a moment to wash your face. The cool water instantly refreshes you and pushes you closer to feeling like yourself again. Wanting your hair out of your face, you pluck a scrunchy from your shared collection of hair accessories. You quickly recognize that your arms still have that too heavy feeling of unconsciousness and after a few attempts to gather your curls into some sort of up-do, you give up and loop the accessory around your wrist to try again later.

Harry senses your frustration when you find him in the kitchen, two small green pill bottles sitting on the counter in front of him. He's already filled your favorite cup with ice water, and you gratefully take it and drink from it.

"What's wrong?" His brow creases with concern and you feel guilty for making him worry over something so silly.

"Nothing..just wanted my hair up out of my face but my arms wouldn't cooperate." You try to laugh it off to put him more at ease, "It's not a big deal."

You know it's only the weariness of the day still making you feel so emotional, clear-headed you would not be upset over something so small.

"Here. Let me try." He slides the scrunchy from your wrist and pulls you closer to him, moving behind you to gently work long fingers through your hair, gathering it all in a loose ponytail on top of your head before securing it around a few times with the scrunchy.

You let your shoulders drop with a deep sigh when he's done, it was such a simple thing, but it made you feel so much lighter. He spins you around to face him, a charming gleam of pride at his handiwork adorning his face, "Too tight?"

"No. Much better. Thank you, Harry. You take such good care of me always, but today..I don't know what I would've done without you. I made such a big fuss and probably made you miserable with all of my worrying." You're suddenly very aware that you are rambling, but when you catch a glimpse of his face, his smile is wide. So bright that the skin around his eyes is crinkling.

He leans towards you, lips stopping whatever words may have come next, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer in a soft, warm embrace. When he pulls away, his eyes bore right into yours, and your heart swells with more love than you could ever imagine having for one person. But he wasn't just any person. He was your person, your whole word staring back at you.

"I'm SO proud of you. You've been so strong today, always knew you had that strength in you, but seeing you take that leap of faith..doing something you knew you should despite your fear, that's all you, love. I can't take any credit for that. You've made me anything but miserable, trust me."

His face is still close enough to yours that you nudge forward, pressing your forehead to his, a silent appreciation of his affection.

"Any pain yet?" He pulls back, a thumb across your cheek, eyes still locked on yours.

"My head kind of hurts? And I still just feel kind of..drunk."

"You have always been a bit of a lightweight, babe. And a thief too, I see. S'that my sweatshirt?"

"Have not!" You swat playfully at his arm, "Maybe. Is that my hair clip in your hair?"

"Possibly." His eyes dart up to the swoop of curls on top of his head, a black plastic clip twisting it back and away from his face.

"Guess we're even then."

"S'pose we are." He tries to keep his eyes narrowed in a mock attempt of annoyance, but it quickly fades into laughter.

You decide against FaceTiming your family, hoping that hearing your voice will be enough. It seems to satisfy them at least for the rest of the day. You assure them that Harry is taking very good care of you and that everything went as smooth as could be expected.

He raises one eyebrow at you as you hang up, "As smooth as expected, huh? You aren't going to tell them the truth?"

"What's to tell? I had an infection and now it's gone. I'm fine, there's no sense in worrying them. We can give them the full story later."

He shrugs, fingers working to open one of the green pill bottles before passing one of the white pills to you, "For your headache, lovie. There's something here for nausea too if you need it. M'worried the pizza might've been too much. Maybe you should take one of these..just in case?"

"Harry, I promise I will tell you if I feel anything other than fine." Your hand runs from his shoulder down his bicep, squeezing gently, "Besides, I cannot take a whole one of those. If you think I'm a lightweight now..I'll sleep for the whole week if I take that."

He slips the bottle in his pocket, pulling you in to press a kiss to the top of your head, "We'll keep it close just in case, okay?"

"Sounds good," Your hand trails back up to his neck to work fingers through his hair, "Hey, thought we were watching a movie? What'd you pick?"

"Thought we could decide together. C'mon, let's get you comfy in bed."

"Ever the gentleman, always trying to get me in your bed."

"Hey! I am a perfect gentleman, thank you very much," He chuckles, a hand coming to rest on the small of your back, "Just thought you'd be more comfortable, you can prop up and stretch your feet out."

You let him tug you along for the second time today, thankful it's the luxury of your shared bed you get to settle into this time. He tucks you in softly, propping pillows behind your back and head.

"Comfy? Need anything else?"

"No, just need you to quit babying me so much and relax with me for a bit."

"Since when am I not allowed to baby you?"

You roll your eyes, "Never said you weren't allowed. Just want you to stop worrying so much, that's all."

"Good. Cause y'are my baby," No matter how many times you'd heard him say it before, it never failed to make you blush, "Do anything for you, y'know that, right?"

"I know," You look down at your hands, trying to slow your racing heart, "You never let me forget."

"Hey," He pokes your cheek, pulling your gaze back up to him, "I love you."

"I love you more, H."

He kisses your forehead, "Impossible. I love you most."

The reference to one of your favorite movies has you smiling at him, that dreamy feeling falling over you again, "Can we watch Tangled?"

"Sure, princess."

He sinks next to you, head propped up on your shoulder, navigating easily through Disney+ to find your requested movie.

Your eyes drift closed right about the time the lanterns are being released in the sky, a moment that normally leaves your face wet with tears, the soft vibrations of Harry humming along the perfect lullaby to push you further into your dream.

He wakes you later in the evening.

"Dinner's on the table if you want to join me."

"Time's it?" Your voice is still heavy with sleep.

"7. You were sleeping so deeply I didn't want to wake you, thought your body could use the extra sleep today."

"Yeah. It was nice, thank you." You stretch your arms forward, reaching for his hands to help pull you up.

"How do you feel?"

"A little sore. More sober, for sure."

Dinner is simple; a bowl of plain broth, salad, and toast. Exactly what the nurse suggested earlier. There's even a warm mug of tea waiting for you.

"With honey for my honey," He's so proud of his cheesy expression of love you cannot help but smile.

You look at him curiously when he sits next to you, the same boring meal set out for himself.

"Harry..you can eat what you want, babe. Seriously you've done enough today, more than enough to be supportive. It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you made yourself something different."

"Nah. S'fine. We're in this together, yeah?"

You raise your eyebrows at him playfully, "Did you have an organ snatched from your body today?"

"No, I didn't." He laughs, "I just meant food wise, love. It's vegetable broth, by the way, hope that's alright."

"It's perfect."

You nudge him lightly, an elbow to his side, shifting closer to ask for a kiss. He meets you the rest of the way, lips planted firmly on yours. When you don't pull away, he quickly adds another.

After dinner is done and you have another round of meds, the two of you end up in an awkward ball of cuddles on the couch. Harry flips through the channels on the tv before finding a show you both agree on.

But you're too restless, unable to find a position comfortable enough for you. You shift a few times, finally giving up and letting out a frustrated groan before tossing the blanket off the both of you and springing up and off the couch.

Harry doesn't panic, just grabs your hand before you can get too far away or lose your balance, keeping his voice low when he asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing hurts. I just can't get comfortable, and I don't feel right."

"What doesn't feel right, angel? Explain."

"I don't feel like myself. I don't know how to explain it. Just feel off."

He sees you're on the verge of tears and ascends from his spot on the couch, arms quickly enveloping you before placing a finger under your chin to pull your face up to look at him.

"It's probably gonna take a day or so to adjust, baby. Yes it was a minor surgery but it was a major change to your body." He's bending now to look right into your eyes, searching them, "How can we fix it tonight, hmm? What do you need?"

Tears are free flowing, falling on the front of your t-shirt and down to the floor.

"Take your time. Breathe." A large hand smoothing warm circles firmly across your back; a balm for your restless spirit.

You pause, deep breath in before slowly letting it out, "I think I just need to move around for a bit."

"Let's go for a walk, eh? A quick one and then back to bed. Your mind needs more rest. How's that sound?" He taps your forehead softly.

"Okay, yeah." You nod your head, an approval of his plan.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Everything's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

You nod again, scared your voice will break if you try to speak. He knew that those words held a lot of weight for you, he'd repeated them often throughout this whole process and to hear them now was a reminder of how safe you were. That with him, you would always be safe and loved.

Being dark outside meant you gracelessly padding through the house, up and down the hallway a few times and back to the living room. Harry stays close, encouraging you along with little claps and kisses to motivate you. When your stomach starts to feel uneasy, he urges you once again to take something for nausea. You agree to take a half a pill, knowing it'll help you sleep.

Despite the nap you had earlier and only being awake for a couple of hours, it doesn't take much convincing for you to settle back into bed.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

He's already reclined next to you, book in hand, the soft light from the lamp illuminating one side of his face. You're smushed against him, drifting between that sweet space of almost asleep and wanting to stay awake to enjoy any spare moment you get with him. His hand working through your hair helps push you towards the former of the two.

"I'm sorry to be such a burden today," Your words are slurring together but you continue on, just needing to get your thoughts out before he can stop you, "I don't deserve you and I shouldn't have overreacted so much about something so simple."

"Hey, none of that now," He lays the book on the nightstand, careful to save his place for later before pulling you closer to him, "You were not, nor have you ever been a burden to me. Just because you needed a little extra help today does not mean you aren't deserving of me or my love. You will never have to earn that. It's yours, always has been, will be as long as you decide to keep me around."

"Thank you. For all of it. I'll always want you."

"Always? Y'might change your mind someday, angel."

"I won't. Promise."

"Yeah? Me either."

A kiss laid delicately to the top of your head has your eyes dangerously close to falling shut again before another thought navigates its way through your mind and out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"H..what am I gonna do with a full week off from work?"

"Let me take care of you?"

And that's exactly what he does.

Mornings spent sleeping in, late breakfasts made together and afternoon walks. Evenings consisting of the two of you preparing dinner together or ordering takeout from some of the forbidden places you couldn't eat from before. Mugs of herbal tea before early bedtimes, you sweetly falling asleep to the sound of his voice reading to you most nights.

But his favorite part was that the scent of lavender was no longer cursed for you. Some nights before your surgery, when you simply could not fall asleep the pain was so unbearable, you would fill the tub with hot water and lavender scented bubbles to try to calm yourself enough to be able to drift off afterwards. It never worked, the heat always doing more harm than good. Harry would always be waiting for you, open arms and a soft towel to wrap you in.

So the smell became one you hated, memories of sleepless nights and nausea. But now you were free to use it again for what you always loved it for before it was cursed. In your body wash, lotion, even your laundry detergent; spreading the scent all over your shared space in as many ways as you could.

He even mentions it one night after dinner, when the two of you are pressed impossibly close together on the couch. His nose buried into your neck, inhaling deeply, pulling away to announce, "You smell like you again, love. Missed it so much." He burrows back in, placing kisses from your neck to your shoulder, ignoring your giggles and protests of how much it tickles.

A week later, the alarm wakes you sooner than you've become accustomed to, reminding you of your return to work. Harry's arm thrown over your waist pulls you closer as you try to leave the bed, a sleepy "Don't go." mumbled in your ear.

You do your best to peel yourself away from him, admitting silently to yourself how much harder it is for you to leave the warmth of your bed as it is for him to let you go.

2 years later, you have a scar you swear didn't heal right, and a man who loves you even more because of it.

#harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing #so happy this is finally done and being posted!#soooooo many times I almost just deleted it bc I didn't know how to feel about it #but anyway hope y'all enjoy!

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inkofamethyst · 2 years

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January 20, 2022

Update: math actually sucks and I’m glad to be done with it. I can say “oh I love problem solving and applying things I’ve learned to new situations” till I’m blue in the face but my true feelings are hiding just beneath the surface and make themselves known as soon as I encounter a problem that is ever so mildly more difficult than anything I’ve done before. [my sister needed help with test corrections and they were hard (I mean I eventually figured it out but only after giving up lol)]

Okay but,,, Lin Manuel Miranda, am I right?

Listen. That guy has such a talent for writing musical lines that go on top of one another and build with each other and are separate but flow into and out of one another’s orbits and it’s just kind of incredible. You can switch between listening to each line individually like changing television stations or you can have them all going at once like you’re listening to four different youtube videos simultaneously but they all line up at certain parts. Like, I remember doing that one song before the Big Fight in West Side Story and thinking that was cool. Two summers later I heard Non-Stop for the first time and haven’t been the same since. We Don’t Talk About Bruno? Incredible. I’m sure In the Heights had an example of this too but I can’t recall specifics.

What’s interesting is that concert band/orchestral(/chamber choir too, apparently) music does this type of thing all the time, but the tricky part is the addition of words. In band, different instruments have different voices, sure, but adding words can make things muddy (I have personal experience with this through singing warmup rounds at choir practices last sem ugh). Miranda’s music is clean.

Anyway I’m gearing up for next semester (yknow, setting up Notion, clearing out Notability, etc), and I have a look at my schedule and come to find out that I’m taking the less favored prof for both biochem 2 and physics 2 which is lovely (I can tell based on who has the most seats left open lol). Frankly, I chose to stick with the same phys prof because even though he can’t teach I a) don’t want any classes before 11a this sem, b) want as many of my classes as possible to be back to back instead of having a gaping 2-hour hole between them, and c) got an A in his class last sem despite being frustrated and fed up the whole time so it probably will be annoying but at least it’ll be annoying in a way that I expect. The only reason I’m taking that biochem 2 prof is because the other one conflicts with my anth class.

Speaking of anth,,,,, I’ve been stressing over the past few weeks bc I couldn’t figure out exactly when the right time would be to send the anth prof an email checkup of like “heyyy I know I’m supposed to TA for you,, are we still cool for that?” because I didn’t wanna be too forward but then it got to the point where I’d waited too long to follow up in my opinion and I was also stressing bc I’ve got the whole imposter syndrome thing climbing up my throat again like bile (you know how it is) and it’s been absolutely paralyzing and the first day of his class is this Tuesday and then today he just goes and sends a casual little email today and is all like “excited to have u as a uta :) also meet ur co-uta she’s been working with me for a bit :)” and honestly that made me feel a little bit calmer. That’s what I’m thankful for today. That my fears were unfounded (and that, so far, everything seems to be turning out alright), as they so often are.

Last thing: It’s a crazy thing to be involved on campus. Over the past few days I’ve received emails from almost all of my major orgs about kickoff meetings and jazz and it’s kinda wild. That said, seeing the email from the orchestra reminded me that there was one primary goal which I did not complete at all: practicing the concert music. Not once. I completed the waistcoat and walking skirt (which I took out for their first spin today actually and it was fabulous (if I get some American Duchesses the skirt length will be perfect)), started on another top instead of the mauve one bc I need to figure out sleeve length stuff (might be able to finish it before I go back), finished my mom’s dress, started Ni No Kuni and Shadow of the Colossus pieces, and started working on my summer plans. So while I didn’t complete everything, I did do quite a bit, and I’m proud of what I was able to accomplish.

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Pushed Around

Prompt: i looooooove you protective knights Merlin drabbles from over quarantine, the frantic energy of these large children fretting over Merlin is hilarious and so precious (': would you ever write your take on the classic "a visiting knight/noble is a dickwad to Merlin but he doesn't tell anyone bc of either worries of diplomacy or something else and then when Arthur and the knights do find out they have to have a serious chat w Merlin about his priorities and self-worth?" bc,,, it would be awesome

Thanks for the req! I do love this trope...

Read on Ao3

Pairings: merthur, but can be platonic or romantic, you decide

Warnings: uhhh nobles can be dicks

Word Count: 3372

The problem with Merlin is that he doesn’t say nearly enough for all the talking he does. Honestly, the man can ramble on for hours and hours without being interrupted and never say one word about himself. He’s spoken about how Arthur sits wrong for longer than a council meeting for goodness’ sake. And yet in all that time, he’s never said a single thing about himself.

It would be impressive if it didn’t get them into nearly so many stressful situations that could’ve been avoided had he asked for help.

In fairness to Merlin, servants asking for help from anyone other than fellow servants isn’t exactly normal. In unfairness to Merlin, when has ‘normal’ ever been very high on his list of things to strive for?

They’ve all gotten fairly used to it. Merlin will be doing something and one of them will notice that perhaps there’s a…better way to do that. Or perhaps he’s doing it with a little less skill or proficiency than he normally does and gods, Merlin, how long have you been hurt for? Merlin will shrug and smile sheepishly at them and say that it’s nothing to worry about. Only Gaius seems to be immune to that, raising the Eyebrow of Disappointment and Merlin will bow his head and let him tend to whatever he’s done to himself this time. The problem is Merlin seems to know this and does all he can to avoid doing these things in front of Gaius. Which leaves the rest of them to struggle frantically to keep track of Merlin while he’s frantically keeping track of them.

But they’ve gotten used to it.

Arthur is allowed to be an absolute prat—Merlin’s words, not his—in the mornings, insisting Merlin do all sorts of ridiculously elaborate chores to assess whether he’s hurt himself, whether something’s wrong, or whether he’s done something to upset Merlin more than tossing the occasional boot at him. If Merlin doesn’t snipe back or calls him ‘sire’ unironically, something is definitely wrong and everything is on pause until they fix it. No exceptions.

Leon, as the closest thing to Arthur’s right hand aside from Merlin, takes every opportunity to stand next to him, regardless of how proper it is. Leon may not be immune to Merlin’s impish little excuses, but Merlin is not immune to the protective-older-sibling looks Leon gives him or the gentle way Leon arranges his cape so that Merlin looks even more inconspicuous behind the copious amounts of red fabric. Leon never says a word, and Merlin would never admit it, but there are times when, if you looked at them from behind, you would see Merlin reach out to clutch Leon’s cape and Leon reach to hold his hand.

Percival is not a small man. Anyone standing opposite him better think very carefully about whatever they’re about to fight over. Odds are it won’t be worth it. Often all he has to do is stand up and they’re babbling apologies or excuses. Merlin, on the other hand, is a slight man who looks as if he’s always about two seconds from tripping over his own feet. Percival makes sure to stand in front of him.

Elyan has a way with words. Not that he’s the most loquacious speaker, nor the most forceful, but he’s got a voice that makes people listen. It’s not Arthur’s authority, nor it is Uther’s unmistakable iron, but it is a quiet power. Oftentimes, people don’t seem to respect Merlin. Some go so far as to refuse to remember his name. Elyan’s never had a problem making them see reason.

Gwaine is not known for being discreet, nor is he especially reserved in demonstrating that he’s here for Merlin, not for Camelot, not for Arthur, but for Merlin. Sometimes Merlin just needs a little reminder that he’s worth fighting for, and not just because he’s fighting for something bigger than himself.

Lancelot is the only one that can actually get Merlin to talk, reliably. The man can see through Merlin’s nonsense in a way that rivals Gaius. Unlike Gaius, Merlin won’t fight him on it. It’s difficult to get Lancelot to tell the rest of them, despite what he’ll have you believe. But if Merlin looks a little happier afterward, then it’s all fine.

So yeah, they’ve gotten used to it. What they haven’t gotten used to are the people that go out of their way to make life for Merlin harder.

“There’s another tournament?” Merlin huffs as he throws the blanket over Arthur’s bed. “Didn’t you just have one?”

“That was a joust. This is a melee.”

“You’re all throwing yourselves at each other with various pieces of metal,” Merlin remarks dryly, “what’s the difference?”

Arthur rolls his eyes as he gets up, glancing out the window to see the approaching knights. There aren’t nearly as many as the last tournament, thank goodness, but that does mean that this one won’t be nearly as easily decided.

“As long as I’m not cleaning up after all of you this time…”

Arthur frowns, looking back at Merlin straightening the bed covers. “What do you mean?”

“Last time. I was working non-stop. Had another knight almost as demanding as you are.”

“I’m allowed to be demanding,” Arthur says, “you’re my servant.”

“Mhmm, sure.”

“No one else is.”

“You tell them that, sire.”

“I will. Who was it?”

Merlin shrugs. “Don’t really remember his name.”

Arthur sighs, walking forward and resting his hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Yes, you do. That’s what you say when you don’t want to tell me someone’s name.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Arthur says softly, turning Merlin to face him, “so you can tell me.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Sure it is.”

“No, it really isn’t.”

“Merlin,” Arthur huffs, “if something is wrong, you know you can tell me.”

“But nothing’s wrong!” Arthur just gives him a look until he sighs, picking up the laundry basket. “Alright, fine, his name was Tobias, are you happy now?”

“Yes, I am, thank you.” Arthur gives his shoulder another pat before moving away. “The next time he’s here, I’ll make sure you’re nowhere near him.”

As it turns out, that doesn’t go as planned. Because Sir Tobias didn’t just sign up for the joust, he’s here for the melee too.

“Arthur Pendragon,” the man roars, clapping Arthur firmly on the shoulder, “thought you’d seen the last of me, eh?”

“Thought that bruised backside you got from falling off your horse would’ve kept you away.”

Tobias throws his head back and laughs. “You’ve got spirit about you, lad. It’ll serve you well if you can hold your nerve.”

“My nerve has never failed me before,” Arthur replies cooly, gesturing up the stairs, “though I’m sure you know that by now.”

“We’ll see come the melee.”

Merlin is out of sight, helping the stablehands tend to the horses. As Arthur walks up the stairs, he sees Tobias glance around and huff softly to himself.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, no,” Tobias says quickly as they enter the hall, “just glad to see you’ve not assigned me the same servant this time.”

Arthur straightens. “Excuse me?”

“The gangly boy that tended to my chambers last time,” Tobias says, waving his hand, “right awful he was. Glad you’ve fired him.”

“I see…”

Arthur does not, in fact, see, but he makes a point to tell the knights not to let Tobias near Merlin.

As it turns out, they don’t have much of a choice. Arthur needs Merlin to help him get ready, and Tobias is of high enough rank to be near the prince as he does so. Luckily for Merlin, he just has to stay inside the tent.

Unluckily for Merlin…

“Arthur,” Gwaine calls from outside, “they need you to come look at the shields.”

Arthur gives Merlin’s arm a squeeze and steps away, ducking out of the tent. Gwaine leads him over to a table laden with shields, each with a different insignia painted on it. The Pendragon crest gleams in the light, next to the sigils from each of the other knights fighting. None of them has so much as a scratch.

“Very good, sire,” the attendant says, sweeping them along to finish the final preparations. Arthur follows Gwaine up the hill to where the others are standing, Leon turning and nodding solemnly ate his approach.

“Are all of you competing, then?” Arthur leans against the wall.

Leon shakes his head. “Lancelot and I will be sitting this one out.”

“Not growing weary are you, old friend?”

“Weary of people attempting to kill you while I’m already engaged in combat,” Leon replies wryly, “and weary of Merlin being the only one able to do anything about it.”

“They won’t listen to him when he calls for a stop to the tourney,” Lancelot adds.

“And so you can keep anyone away from him,” Gwaine says firmly.

“Precisely.”

They head back down the hill, just in time to see a flutter of movement from Arthur’s tent. Gwaine frowns, rushing forward and throwing it open.

“Merlin?”

“I’m here,” Merlin says, getting to his feet, “just fell.”

Arthur rolls his eyes fondly and reaches down to help him up. “At some point, Merlin, I do have to wonder.”

“It’s fine, I just picked up something without realizing it was attached to something else.”

“I see.”

The rest of the knights glance at each other over Arthur’s shoulder and Elyan stalks off toward a neighboring tent. Leon bows deeply and tells Merlin that he and Lancelot will wait for the others to finish their training before coming to collect him.

“There’s still a few more days to go,” Merlin says softly, “I don’t see why you all had to come here so early.”

“It’s to make it fair, give the knights the chance to get used to fighting in the same place.”

Merlin grumbles to himself as he goes about finishing up. Arthur catches him gently by the elbow as he turns to leave.

“Are you alright? Really?”

“Arthur, I’m fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Arthur sighs. “I would really like for one of these to go off normally for once.”

Arthur does not, in fact, get what he wants.

Not that anyone is particularly surprised that there’s a knight who managed to sneak a poisoned weapon into the training grounds, but someone clips Arthur through his armor and he winces, immediately aware that something’s wrong. Merlin spots it a mile away, because of course he does. The knight is quickly escorted away and Arthur shakes his head, calling for a search of all the knights’ belongings and weapons.

“You’d think we’d get better about this,” Lancelot mutters as he and Merlin approach, Merlin rubbing his shoulder, “and that they’d stop trying.”

“At least we caught it before the actual melee.”

“Merlin, there you are,” Gwaine says, pulling Merlin to his side, “good. Now, you and I are going to have a talk.”

“About what?” Arthur looks around. “What’s going on?”

Lancelot just mouths that they’ll be back as Gwaine sweeps them both along the corridor. Arthur brushes it to the back of his mind. That’s not the first time they’ve done something like this.

It’s the night before the melee. Merlin is late. Arthur paces up and down the length of his quarters. The knights have all vanished hours ago. Merlin is late.

A knock.

“Enter.”

Leon sweeps inside, a stony look on his face. He glances around the quarters and bites back a curse. “Merlin’s not here, is he?”

“No,” Arthur says, his blood beginning to run cold, “no, he isn’t. Where is he?”

“Gwaine and Lancelot are already looking,” Leon says, shutting the door, “but…sire, may I ask a question?”

“Always,” Arthur says immediately, “you don’t need to ask.”

“How long has Tobias been…allowed near Merlin?”

“He hasn’t,” Arthur growls, hustling down the corridor, “but what has he done?”

“He was more brazen during the joust.” Leon shoulders a door open. “But now—“

“Merlin!”

Arthur rushes forward as Merlin turns the corner. Startled, Merlin barely has time to turn all the way before Arthur’s wrapping him up in a protective arm and turning him back toward the safety of Arthur’s chambers.

“Where were you?”

“I was, um…”

Arthur bites back a curse and hurries faster, Leon hot on their heels. Along the way, they come across Elyan and Percival, coming up from the armory.

“Arthur, we need to—“ Elyan breaks off when he sees Merlin in Arthur’s arms. “Merlin?”

“My chambers,” Arthur growls, “now.”

“What about Gwaine and Lancelot?”

“They’ll find us.”

“Guys, whatever this is, it’s fine,” Merlin tries but Arthur simply opens the door to his quarters and sits Merlin down. “Really!”

“Merlin,” Leon says quietly, “where were you just now?”

Merlin glances at Arthur. Then back to Leon. “Helping Amelia.”

“And who were you helping Amelia help?”

Another glance at Arthur. Arthur closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Merlin,” he says slowly, “I need you to answer me honestly, please.”

Merlin nods, evidently a little taken aback at how soft Arthur’s voice is.

“Were you helping Amelia because she asked for your help, or were you helping her so Tobias would get angry with you instead of her?”

The silence that fills the room is more than enough of an answer.

“I’m going to kill him,” Gwaine announces, kicking open the door, “now where’s—there you are.”

“Gwaine, I—ah!”

“Don’t break him,” Lancelot chides gently as Gwaine sweeps Merlin into a hug, “he’s probably still hurt.”

“Hurt?” Arthur looks from Lancelot to Merlin. “Merlin—“

“It’s fine.”

“Can you allow us to be the judge of that,” Leon asks, settling a hand on Gwaine’s shoulder and moving him away, “please?”

“It’s just a few bruises, he doesn’t even hit that hard.”

“Not exactly helping your case here,” Gwaine snarls, stalking toward Arthur.

“Merlin.”

“…why’re you guys so upset?”

Arthur winces. Merlin looks back and forth between them.

“No…really, I don’t—I don’t understand. You lot hit me.”

“Not like that!”

“It’s fine, I don’t—“

“This isn’t fine, Merlin, you’re being hurt.”

“So?”

The room falls silent. Leon draws back as if Merlin reached out to smack him across the face. Percival bows his head as Elyan bites back a curse. Lancelot stares at Merlin like he’s grown a second head. Gwaine looks at Arthur.

Arthur’s chest clenches so painfully he fears he’s going to have to send for Gaius. Merlin…Merlin doesn’t believe that he’s worth worrying about when he’s hurt? Merlin doesn’t care that he’s getting hurt? Merlin is letting someone hurt him?

“Merlin…”

“What?” He looks around at all of them in confusion. “What it is? Why do you all look so…so…”

“Upset?” Leon tilts his head. “Because you just told us you don’t think you’re important.”

“But…this isn’t that big of a deal. It happens all the time. Why is this time any different.”

“How often,” Lancelot says, “would you say this happens then?”

“Every time there’s a tournament.”

“Every tournament,” Leon repeats quietly, “there is a knight that does this?”

“Sometimes more than one.”

“And you…let them?”

“It’s not like I have much of a choice.”

No.

No, no, no, this isn’t right.

This isn’t right.

Merlin is the man who waltzed right up to Arthur on his first day in Camelot and told him to stop being a prat.

Merlin is the man who spat in Uther’s face as often as he could.

Merlin is the man who demanded that everyone is treated as a person, be they servant or noble or royal.

This is wrong.

“Merlin,” Arthur manages, “Merlin, of course you have a choice.”

“If I don’t do it, they’ll hurt someone else. And I’m used to it.”

“But you never should’ve gotten used to it,” Arthur cries, rushing forward and grabbing Merlin’s shoulders, “damnit, Merlin, why don’t you protect yourself?”

“I’m fine, Arthur.”

“You’re letting yourself get pushed around and beaten by someone, you’re not fine.”

“I have to put up with you, don’t I?”

Arthur burns.

Something in his chest squeezes so tight it breaks. He takes his hands off of Merlin like he’s been stung, backing up until he hits the poster of his bed. His mouth is open in shock and he can scarcely draw breath.

Merlin thinks…Merlin…did he do this to Merlin?

“I don’t understand why this is such a big deal,” Merlin is saying far, far away, “it’s not like I’m not…why’re you all looking at me like that?”

No, no, Merlin is Arthur’s Merlin, he—he’d never hurt his Merlin, he’d never—no, he hasn’t—but—Merlin—

“Arthur, are you—are you crying?”

This is Arthur’s fault. This is Arthur’s fault, isn’t it, he’s messed this up, he’s messed Merlin up, he’s ruined it—he’s ruined everything.

“Sire,” comes Leon’s—is that Leon’s?—voice from somewhere to his left, “you have to breathe, come on…”

Arthur gasps, the air burning the inside of his throat. He does it again, frantically blinking to clear his eyes. Tears stream down his cheeks—so he did start crying—as the image of Lancelot and Gwaine talking to Merlin swims into view in front of him. Merlin’s brow is furrowed and he keeps shooting concerned looks Arthur’s way.

“I never meant—“ Arthur swallows— “I never meant to hurt him. I didn’t—I never meant any of them, I—“

“Shh, sire,” Leon murmurs, “we know. Nothing is simple right now.”

“But that’s not what Arthur does,” Merlin protests, “he—is that why you guys are so worried?”

Merlin turns and flies at Arthur, hands immediately coming up to cup his cheeks and numb away his tears, muttering all the while.

“That’s not what I meant, Arthur,” he babbles, “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—you’re not like them, I just—that’s what I’m used to, I didn’t know that there was a difference—“

“I never meant to hurt you, Merlin,” Arthur says, gripping Merlin’s arms tightly, “I just—you must believe me—“

“I do, I do—“ now Merlin’s crying too— “I just—“

“Alright, you two,” Leon hushes, gently laying a hand on both of their shoulders, “let’s have you two sit before you fall over.”

The knight guides them both to the bed, sitting them on the edge. They’re no help; they’re too busy crying and clinging onto each other.

“Now, why don’t you two have a chat, and we’ll be outside.” Leon ruffles their hair affectionately and sweeps the others out into the corridor despite Gwaine’s protests.

Arthur swallows. “I never meant to hurt you, Merlin,” he mumbles, “nor do I believe that you’re—a fool or an idiot or stupid or anything.”

He clutches Merlin tightly. “You’re important to me.”

Merlin nods. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you lot, it’s just…that was how the older boys in Ealdor treated me. I got used to it. And it always made sense.”

Arthur shakes his head furiously. “It doesn’t make sense, Merlin. They were hurting you. People are hurting you. That’s not alright. That’s awful. And I’m going to stop it.”

“You can’t just fight all the nobles who don’t like me.”

“Watch me.”

“Your father will—“

“To hell with that,” Arthur snarls, “they’re hurting you. And I won’t stand for it.”

Merlin sighs, slumping forward. Without a thought, Arthur catches him, pulling him closer and tucking his head over Merlin’s.

“…you really would fight them for me?”

“Yes, Merlin. I would. And I will.”

He feels Merlin grin against his shoulder. “You’re going to make Tobias never come back to Camelot, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps.”

#merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merthur #merthur fic #dragonbabbles #fic

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navyhyuck · 3 years

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week two | previous | masterlist | next

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃, 𝐉𝐀𝐘.

↳ a love letter a week, and it has you wondering who’s your secret admirer. you have nine weeks, eight candidates, and one story to live. will you find out who your ‘jay’ is?

a/n :: here’s part two my sexy friends, i’ll be starting to add a little warnings tag from now on because parts will start to get longer and may include some triggering topics!!

wc :: 2.9k (i’m sorry it’s getting longer and longer i know)

warnings: mentions of sex (kinda, not explicit), a singular mention of death, someone’s borderline a bully but not quite (they’re just mean)

taglist: @childofthecycle @the8luvr @staywrites @chocolattees @cloudzume @babytoadz @cherrystay @sandaigdigan-reads @hoes4hoseok @ctrlaltfangirl @kodzu-ken @xazucaradictax @qtieskz @blueprint-han

couldn’t tag: @x-dawna-x

let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

You’re listening to Ryujin go on and on about Han Jisung at practically 6 a.m. (okay, it was around halfway to 8 o’clock, but her words were making you lose track of time), your head resting against the cool metal of the locker, almost wishing you were banging your head against it instead. As much as you knew your friend had a thing for the boy, you never thought you’d be stuck in the middle listening to her over analyzing everything that happened in English the day before. Sure, the precarious boy could be outstanding at pipetting in chemistry, but his social skills weren’t the best. Or at least, they weren’t the best with you.

“Anyway, I’ll shut up now, you look like you just watched The Conjuring and threw up on yourself.” She exclaims rather dryly, and you raise your head, glimpsing at the questioning look on her face. “By the way, that movie was shit. I’ll get to the point, then. I was gonna ask who you’re going to homecoming with.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at both the comment on one of your favorite horror movies ever (that you’ve watched four times already, each time with the same girl who insists it’s not scary but ends up peeking past her fingers anyway) and homecoming. “Myself,” you reply, returning your head to its original position. “Do I look like the kind of person that would go to homecoming with a date? Really?”

“You went last year,” she points out, and you realize it’s true with a groan. It wasn’t your fault that you couldn’t refuse the captain of the basketball team when he proposed the idea in the middle of the cafeteria, halfway through the sixth period. Honestly, San wasn’t too bad anyway, he just wanted to have some fun with a girl that wasn’t following after him in the general sheep crowd; after the night was over, however, you swore to yourself that you would never come to a dance voluntarily wearing stilettos without one of your go-to friends. “And you liked it. Plus, I was thinking, we should all get dates this year! You know, since it’s our senior year and all. You won’t have another hoco to miss after this one.”

“Get dates? You’re acting like it’s buying takeout.”

“It basically is,” she shrugs. “You go out, ask for something from someone, and they either give it to you or not. Though I’m not really sure if restaurants are allowed to refuse service.”

“We could just all go as friends,” you suggest, finally opening up your locker. “As great as having some random dude as my date, no thanks. Like you said, it’s our last year. And hoco’s been fun since freshman year for us anyway, what’s the point of setting us up with dudes when we’re just gonna ditch them?”

“Who said I’m gonna ditch my date?”

“Me, I just did,” you deadpan, shuffling through your books to grab onto your chemistry lab book and stuffing it into your bag. “Remember sophomore year? Yeah, you might not want to remember it, but I do. Lee Daehwi?” She groans at the sound of the familiar name, making you chuckle.

“Okay, fair enough, but I’m not gonna ditch my date this time. Not if I get the one I want.” Ryujin smacks your arm to grab your attention, making you hiss before you see the knowing look on her face as she wiggles her eyebrows. You cross your arms in confusion, trying to scan and rescan her face for hints to what she was getting at, but when your mind finally clicks, you freeze. And then, your jaw drops. “Shut up.”

“I-I didn’t even say anything!”

“I know what you’re gonna say!” She points at you, shaking her finger before bringing it back down. “Look, like you said, it’s senior year. I don’t have a chance, really, not after this one. Either I ask him out for homecoming in the next week or I mope around for the rest of my life regretting not going to a high school dance with the hottest guy in school. Yeah, okay, I guess that kinda does sound a little pathetic.”

You consider it for a moment, imagining how awkward the interaction between Ryujin’s infamous crush and her would be; there would be a whole lot of tripping at the feet and ten times the amount of stuttering. Plus, you’re sure that the boy didn’t have the heart capacity to receive a request without passing out cold. He’s a little fragile after all. “You think Jisung’s the hottest guy in school?”

“Duh, who else do you think? That Hyunjin dude? Yeah, maybe, I saw him a few times in the past few days, but so what? People just get hyped over some guy whenever they come to the school and like four days later he’s no longer a cool transfer student and just ‘the guy next to me in calculus.’” You give her a look, one that you hope resembles something that conveyed the message of ‘you just brought up Hyunjin completely unprovoked’ but she doesn’t budge, her eyes trailed on her nails as she continues. “...and I’ll ask Jisung. Chaeryoung said she’s going with that other guy from your chem, whatever his name was, him. So then, it’s just you.”

You’re reminded suddenly of the letter that you pulled from your locker a few days earlier, the one that followed after the previous introduction and pleaded for you to attend the dance. Even if the letter had never arrived, you were planning on it anyway, but now, you had a purpose. “I don’t really want a date,” you say carefully, your eyes darting across the busy hallway before focusing on the blue of your best friend’s hair. “I mean, I don’t know, maybe, whatever. I don’t feel like stressing out about asking someone, so maybe if someone asks me, I'll be their date. But don’t count on it, alright?”

Ryujin narrows her eyes at you, as if searching for something underneath (something that wasn’t there, you’d like to point out, but she’s still looking intently) before humming. “Alright, sure.” She finishes abruptly, clearly wanting to add onto her sentence but refraining from doing so, making you raise an eyebrow at her shenanigans.

“Spit it out, c’mon, I know you have more to say.”

Your best friend gives you a deadly look but considers it, resting her back against the lockers before turning back to you. “Okay, this is just a thought, got it? Just something running through my head right now that I want to share.”

You cross your arms. “A thought? You? Thinking? Well, that’s no good.”

“Shut up and listen to me first,” she waves you off, shuffling closer until you can see the glimmer of her eyeshadow smudged on the side of her winged eyeliner. “Think about this. You, Y/N, a beautiful girl with absolutely no intention on going to homecoming with a date because of the lack of attraction towards snotty teenage boys, asking the Hwang Hyunjin, a transfer student that’s extremely good-looking and apparently affectionately kind who has no intention on going to homecoming with a date because of the lack of connection with beautiful girls, to homecoming.”

You blink twice, looking up at the ceiling as you quietly process her words. It’s a bit jumbled in your head, but once you think it’s clear enough, you look at her. “Ryujin. May I express my feelings about this ‘thought?’”

She scans you up and down, and then nods.

“It’s absolute bullshit.”

“Hey!”

“I hate my life,” you say to yourself as you swing open the door of your car, stepping out rather impatiently onto the asphalt. Having forgotten to grab your psychology notebook at the end of the day, you found yourself taking an unwanted U-turn back to the school to pick it up; in your defense, you would rather maintain your A in the class even if you had to stop by the gas station on your way back. Like you were told, a class requires commitment.

You march your way into the school once again, wondering why the school officials never thought to add any precautionary measures to the buildings. It makes you wonder if someone had ever snuck onto campus since you were a freshman. From the very deep memories of your sophomore year, you remember a junior at that time sneaking in one of his friends during finals week thinking he’d get away with it. Honestly, Juyeon was something else.

Just as you make your way to your locker, you quietly scroll through your phone distractedly before seeing a text pop up in your infamous group chat.

[3:05 p.m.] chaechaer: guess what guys!! :D

[3:05 p.m.] praying mantis: don’t wanna guess

[3:05 p.m.] hwangji: she’s finally getting dick

[3:05 p.m.] chaechaer: i’ll fucking bite you yeji.

[3:06 p.m.] hwangji: bite me baby i wanna see you try

[3:06 p.m.] you: spill c’mon

[3:07 p.m.] praying mantis: y/n.

[3:07 p.m.] praying mantis: why are you at school right now

[3:07 p.m.] chaechaer: gasp

[3:07 p.m.] chaechaer: looks like i’m not the only one getting dick

[3:08 p.m.] you: oh fuck off, i came back bc i forgot something

[3:08 p.m.] you: wait did you just say ‘not the only one’

[3:09 p.m.] hwangji: so you ARE getting dick???

[3:09 p.m.] hwangji: spill mf, right now

[3:09 p.m.] you: ryujin, are you checking my snap location rn??? hello??

[3:10 p.m.] praying mantis: ofc i am, i’m your guardian angel :)

[3:10 p.m.] you: you’re a stalker

[3:10 p.m.] praying mantis: but whose dick are you getting? that’s the real question

You roll your eyes as hard as you can, hoping that your best friend would know even from a distance. Just as you continue to tap furiously into the glass of your phone, you’re suddenly hit by your left shoulder, sending you flying down to the ground in an instant. “Shit,” you whisper under your breath, brushing your hair out of your eyes well enough to look up and see that the hard object you just ran into wasn’t a wall. In fact, it was a human.

“Watch where you’re going,” the boy snaps at you, rather loudly in fact, making you flinch as you slowly stand up, gathering your phone. “This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t on your phone. Who walks in a hallway with their head down like that? Do you want to die?”

It takes you a minute to realize who’s actually standing in front of you, and it’s only when you’ve managed to gulp down his harsh words. Seo Changbin. He looks at you from head to toe, the scowl still evident on his face when your eyes widen. Suddenly, you’re a little more aware of yourself, shifting uncomfortably in his gaze as he doesn’t move.

“Well?” He crosses his arms across his chest, now approaching you. “I don’t hear an apology.”

You instinctively back away, avoiding the boy’s eyes before you’re looking right back into them. If you weren’t mistaken, there was no one in front of you until there was, and there was no way that you could’ve ran into someone without noticing their presence earlier. Scoffing, you mimic his posture, looking behind him to see if you’re right about your assumption. In fact, you are, seeing the door of the locker room staring right back at you. “Me? Shouldn’t you be watching where you’re going?”

Changbin looks taken aback by your retaliation, somehow making his forehead lines fall into a straight line. “Don’t talk back to me, bitch.”

“Bitch?” You want to laugh, but instead, you press a smile down. “Seriously? Who do you think you are?”

You’re honestly appalled at the way the admired swimmer is acting towards you, but you’re not surprised. You would be lying if you didn’t say you weren’t in the faintest surprised. The entire team could act like a handful of bullies that didn’t have any other free time on their hands, if you looked into it more. Changbin seems to be dissatisfied with your answer, closing in on you as your back presses against the wall.

“What did you say to me?”

You’re about to respond with an equally harsh answer but there’s a sudden call of Changbin’s name from the end of the hallway, making the both of you turn your heads. Yet another swimming team member comes jogging your way, sporting a school branded shirt that tells you exactly what he’s part of. The boy stops a few feet away from the two of you, a large smile spreading across his face as he looks from Changbin to you. You scratch your head. Is Bang Chan currently standing in front of you? Or was it just a figment of your imagination?

“Hi! What’s your name?” He asks, coming closer before glancing over at Changbin and stopping. “W-What? Wait, what? What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Changbin defends immediately, making you raise an eyebrow as he holds up his palms. “I didn’t! Nothing happened, Chan. It’s all good. Let’s just go now.”

Chan doesn’t budge when he grabs onto his arm, tugging to pull him away, but he instead focuses his attention on you. His smile persists. “Hi sweetheart, judging from the look on your face, he did do something, right?”

You’re taken aback at his soft voice, a complete contrast from what you just heard from the other boy. Pursing your lips, you try not to let your cheeks flame up. Sweetheart? “It’s nothing—he just ran into me and tried to pin the whole thing on me—it’s all good, really. I’m fine, I didn’t get hurt. So…”

“You didn’t get hurt? But he ran into you?” Chan shoots Changbin a sharp look, one that looks much darker than the gaze he returns to you. “Are you okay? It might’ve been a hard fall. I can take you to the nurse’s office, if you’d like?”

“N-No, it’s fine!” You shake your hands in refusal, an awkward chuckle leaving your lips. Chan only laughs brightly in response, his entire face somehow appearing ten times more charming than before. You notice with another fleeting glimpse that there are dimples that crease into his skin as he smiles, now making your heart do an unidentifiable leap inside your chest. “Um, okay, I actually have to go now! I’ll, uh, yeah! Bye!”

You turn in your heel, trying to walk at a casual but extremely quick pace at the same time, which proves to be difficult. Just as you’re about to turn at the corner, there’s a shout from down the hall.

“Hey!” Peaking your head back, you see Chan waving his hand at you. “What’s your name?!”

“Y/N!”

“Nice to meet you Y/N! I hope to see you around!”

Gulping, you lean back against one of the lockers near yours, placing a hand over your chest as you finally notice the thumping. You take a deep breath, shaking your head a few times to get the entire situation out of your head; it doesn’t work, not with your brain taking you back to that exact moment once again. You just spoke to one, no, scratch that, two extremely talented swimming players with your own two eyes. And perhaps the rapid beating of your heart wasn’t just because one of them was being nice to you. But you wouldn’t admit that now, would you?

dear y/n love,

hi hi! i’ve missed talking to you (yes, i know, there’s no way you can respond to me, but anyway), but this letter will be unfortunately short today. please don’t think too much of it! my class is about to end, haha.

i saw you at one of the swimming meets a few days ago, and oh my god, i really couldn’t take my eyes off of you. i don’t know if anyone has ever told you, y/n, but you are so beautiful. i remember what you were wearing; was it...a black shirt? and jeans, oh yes. your sense of style is so simple yet somehow so perfect. i couldn’t even take my eyes off of you, oh god, i remember all my friends yelling at me to pay attention but all i was doing was staring at you. sounds like a problem, huh? but i enjoy it. shit, this sounds kinda creepy again, doesn’t it? i’m so sorry, love, that’s not what i was going for. i just...really admire you. a lot.

also, the homecoming game is this weekend! i hope you end up going, you can even go with your friend! the blue-haired one, yeah, ryujin, i think. that’s her name, right? oh god, you probably think i’m even weirder now that i just told you that i know your friend. fuck. anyway.

once again, i hope to see you there! there’s something waiting for you there and i want to be able to surprise you, even if i don’t want to reveal my identity just yet. see you soon, love.

signed, jay

#inkidz #stayhavennet #kpopscape #skz fluff #skz series #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids fic #skz x reader #skz au #stray kids series #stray kids writing #skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids au #stray kids x reader

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darksapphire29 · 4 years

Text

Imagine #3

Peter has a nightmare about you

Warnings: his dream is a tiny bit gory, yep there's more VERY STRESSED Peter bc we love that, and fluff? Probably a little OOC Pan (but it depends who you ask).

Notes: Honestly, I don't know how to feel about this one... Enjoy, lovelies!!

Your screams shook the sky. They shook Peter's very soul. He scrambled through the forest, pushing off trees and stumbling over roots.

"(Y/N)!! Where are you?!" He cried, his eyes blurry with tears. Everything was black, he could hardly see his shaking hands. No matter how hard he tried, his magic wouldn't work. What was worse? He couldn't find you. Your shrieks were full of fear, full of pain.

"Love, answer me!! Please!!" Suddenly, Peter was met with silence. The quiet shocked him to the bone. He tripped and fell, his arms slamming into the dirt.

"Peter?" Your voice was broken and came out a whimper. He jumped up from the ground, whirling around in search of his love. Of his happiness. Neverland was still coated in an inky blackness, but he still saw you. His heart jolted, and a part of him wished he was still looking for you.

You lay curled up in the soil, clutching your side as blood pooled around you. Your once beautiful (e/c) eyes were black. He could never believe it.

"(Y/N)!!" Peter rushed to your side. "No, no, please, NO!" He already felt hot tears rolling down his cheeks. Your gorgeous face was ghostly pale. Your skin was red with your blood, arms and neck peppered with cuts and bruises.

"Hang on, just... j-just stay with me!" He panicked, hands pressing to the gaping hole in your waist. He could see a fraction of bone, blood spewing out and staining his fingers. You weren't moving.

"(Y/n)?!" He could hardly speak, Peter's mouth opening and closing. He could hardly breathe. "Hey, w-wake up! Say something, love, you can't be- you- you can't-"

Peter was lying on his stomach when his eyes shot open. His blanket was twisted around his legs, his fingers clutching onto his pillow. He rolled on his back. He ran a hand down his face, wiping away the thick layer of sweat from his night terror. His heart caught in his throat.

"(Y/N)!!" He leapt from his bed, instantly falling to the ground as he wrestled with his sheets. Still scared to death, he made a beeline for your hut. He knew it was a dream, it had to have been a dream.

He slammed open your door, stumbling inside. But your bed was empty.

"No, no, no, no, no..." He muttered, repeating it non-stop as he ripped the blankets off your bed. He dropped to his knees, checking beneath it. When he found nothing but an old pair of pants, he wanted to scream.

"Peter?" You stood in your doorway, staring in confusion at the demon-boy. He was on all fours, head under your bed and your bedding tossed aside in his panic. He visibly jumped at your voice, head hitting the bed frame.

"(Y-Y/n)?" He asked into the air. He got to his feet, dusting himself off like he wasn't just about to cry. His hair was wild from sleep, night clothes disheveled and twisted.

"Why were you on my floor? It's... It's 3 in the morning." You questioned, yawning mid-sentence. Peter couldn't bring himself to glare at you. He was almost in shock. "I-I was just looking for-" his eyes searched the room frantically, before they landed on something on your bed-side table. He picked it up. "This."

"My hair brush?" You smirked, scrunching your brows. You then noticed the water glazing his eyes, and how his face and neck glistened with sweat. "Peter?" You asked again, your tone laced with concern. He rushed towards you, wrapping his arms around you and clutching you to his body.

You stroked his hair, shushing him and rubbing circles into his back. "Shh, it's alright." Peter just shook his head, burying it between your neck and shoulder. His arms held onto your waist even tighter, and he breathed in your scent. You frowned in worry. Peter was never this touchy before. "What's wrong?"

You pried him off you, your gaze stern. But then you saw his red eyes and pale lips, and your eyes softened. "Are you alright, Peter?" The boy continued to stare at you with his swollen eyes, and a bubble of worry grew in your stomach. You pulled him to your bed, the mattress still bare, and the two of you sat down.

He wrapped his arms around your frame again, this time more gently. You sighed.

"It's stupid..." He muttered. You disagreed, going to pull away, but he wouldn't let you.

"Tell me." You whispered. Peter sighed.

"I- you- we were in the forest..." he stuttered, breathing shakily into your hair. "It was dark. I couldn't find you." His voice was so broken, it made your heaet ache. You realised he'd had a nightmare, and in that moment, Peter was no king. He was just a boy who needed comfort, and you were more than happy to give him that.

You felt a tear land on your shoulder, and you pulled away to look into his eyes. He turned away when he realised you knew he was crying, and he roughly wiped at his eyes. "You- you were-" he couldn't finish, and this time you pulled him into your chest.

"Hey, I'm here. We're both here and we're fine." You cooed, running your fingers through his thick locks once more.

"W-when I woke up, I had to find you..." You felt him frown against your skin, and he pulled away slightly. He glared at you through his tears. "Where were you?!" He demanded, his sudden anger startling you. His eyes were wild, but you just smiled. He was trying to hide his weakness, his panic and fear, but you wouldn't let him. You leaned on his shoulder.

"I was thirsty." You answered simply. "I just went to the kitchen for a drink. I'm fine, Peter." He relaxed again, the darkness in his eyes dispersing, and you smiled. The two of you sat on your bed for a while, just enjoying the other's company, before Peter spoke up.

"Can I stay with you?" You nodded, reluctantly pulling away. You picked up your sheets, straightening up your bed, while Peter just laid down. You tucked him in with a laugh. He stuck his tongue out at you.

With a cheeky grin, Peter slipped an arm out from under the covers and slithered it around your waist. He pulled you into him once more, his hold more protective and desperate than before. But you let him, because he needed you.

You turned in his arms to look at him. You smirked. "Admit it. You came in here to cuddle."

Peter rose a brow. "Is that so?" You nodded, a fuzziness spreading in your stomach. "So what if I did?" You blushed at his smirk, his hands tracing shapes on your back.

The two of you just lay together, your heart pounding at his closeness. You could see every inch of his face, count the very few freckles on his face. Peter just looked at your face, memorising every line and every spot.

"You're so beautiful." He uttered. Your eyes snapped to his. Beautiful? Of all the things, that couldn't be how he saw you. But not a millimetre of his expression said otherwise. His gaze was soft, his eyes sparkling in admiration with a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

You didn't know what to do or say. You just stared at him in shock. Peter chuckled. "Close your mouth, love. You'll catch flies." You shut it quickly, rolling over to hide your tomato-red face.

"Night."

"Goodnight, love."

#very stressed peter #peter pan #ooc pan #nightmare #x reader #xreader #peter pan x reader #robbie kay #robbie kay imagine #needy and desperate Peter #I really need a Robbie hug RN

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florenceandthemachine · 4 years

Text

broken Tumblr asks part ??: in which I think I figured out that adding a read more into the asks are what breaks them.

anonymous asked:

the team makes Buck cry. send tweet.

hi anon I really am sorry if you were hoping for some hurt / comfort bc uh. this is just the hurt. xoxox

also my love, thanks, and eternal devotion to @buckleydiazs for giving it a quick beta 💖

Buck was on cloud fucking nine.

For a year—an entire year—he had been stuck in the doctors office, twice a month, while they ran test after test after his… multiple accidents. Blood tests, lung tests, flexibility tests, he had been poked like a pincushion and stretched like a rubber band, he had been through physical therapy, occupational therapy, and just regular therapy (hell, he was still in regular therapy), and now finally, finally, he was finished.

“So, you don’t show any signs of abnormal clotting and your risk for a second pulmonary embolism is low. As far as your ankle goes, but you’ve regained full mobility, and as much as I wish I could take all the credit for that, I know you’ve been working your ass off in therapy. Congratulations, Mr. Buckley.”

He was cleared. Fully out of the woods. Clean bill of health.

Finally, finally, after a year of hell, he could put everything—his crushed leg, his bleeding lungs, his stupid lawsuit—behind him. Finally, he could breathe easy, easier than he had in a year, and the only thing he wanted to do in the entire world was share the news with his family.

Normally, Maddie would have been first, but he always felt bad about tying up a dispatcher when he called her at work. Her shift ended in an hour or so, though—like his normally would have, if he didn’t have his schedule switched during doctor days.

Well, if he can’t tell his sister, he can still tell his family.

“Hey, Chim!”

Buck is all smiles as locks his Jeep, his medical release in hand, jogging easily to catch up to Chim’s retreating backside. Buck grinned as Chim turned around, raising his brow. “Hey, do you and Hen have a second? I wanted to show you both my—“

“Oooh, sorry, no can do Buckeroo. Hen’s taking her MCAT’s in two days, I have every second of her free time booked solid with studying.”

Buck faltered a little bit as they walked, raising his brow. While he really was proud of Chim for doing a full 180 so quickly—going from feeling betrayed to supporting a friend was no easy feat, and Buck knew that as well as anyone, but he also knew that a full day of studying wouldn’t do any good.

“Come on, Chim, I’m sure she can take a break to—“

“Noooo, Buck.”

“Chim.”

“Buck, seriously. She’s been working too hard for this, and I’m not having you break up her flow. This is important to her, you get that right?”

Of course Buck got it, but…

“I’m not going to let anyone ruin this for her.”

….ruin it? He just wanted to share some good news.

He understood that Hen had to study, and that her upcoming MCATS were really important to her, but this was important to Buck; and for Chim to jump straight to that degree made his heart sink a little bit with each beat, his head traitorously whispering to him ‘what if Chim is right?’. Hen had been one of his biggest supporters as he got off of blood thinners, as he started back into his various therapies, and he had thought he returned the favor, helping her study in his free time whenever he could, and helping her take her mind off of things when she needed to as well—maybe his distractions were more harm than good, but he knew Hen well enough to know that if no one pulled her away from her work, she just wouldn’t eat, sleep, go home, any of it. Was it really that bad that Buck wanted a minute?

He felt his smile start to slip so he hitched it back up, nodding his head. “Yeah, sure, I… okay, just hit me up when you’re all done, I guess?” He said, hoping his voice sounded more confident than he felt. It must have worked, because Chim clapped both of his arms and turned away, leaving Buck standing there for a moment before he shook himself out of it.

It was fine. Hen wanted to study, that was important. Buck tried to pump himself back up as he took the stairs to the loft two at a time, reveling in the simple act of fully rolling his ankle. He tilted his head as he heard Bobby’s voice spill out of his office, turning on his heel to his next target. Besides, Bobby sounded frustrated—some good news would do him good, or so Buck thought.

“…no, I don’t—no, we can’t just take—wait, what? No, I will not hold!”

Buck almost laughed as he knocked on the Cap’s open door, smiling when Bobby waved him inside.

“Look, forgive me if I’m not entirely sympathetic, but when we’re down an engine, and you can’t tell us when repairs will be done—well then you’d better transfer me to someone who can!”

“Everything alright, Cap?” Buck couldn’t help but smile as Bobby strangled his phone, sighing in defeat when the plastic wouldn’t yield.

“You know, Marty was a crook in the end, but damn, he was a good mechanic. What’s up, Buck?”

Buck winced at the reminder of the nearly would-be heist, humming thoughtfully as he waved his full release forms. “Well, this shouldn’t take long. I got back from the doctors today, and—“

Bobby’s groan cut him off, hanging his head in his free hand. “No, Buck, no. I can’t have you sick right now, and nothing good ever follows ‘doctor’.”

Buck laughed, but Bobby kept going, the stress of the day and being down an engine clearly getting to him as he continued on. “And the last time I heard “doctor” from you, it was followed by lawsuit, which—yes, I’m still holding, hello?”

Lawsuit?

What the fuck?

Buck reeled back like he had been slapped, the smile frozen on his face even with Bobby’s clear dismissal. He was glad that he didn’t have to say anything else, at the very least, because his throat felt hot and tight and it was all he could do to stay steady as he pivoted on his heel, walking out of the office.

He hated the fact that that was the first thing Bobby brought up, but he hated even more how much that dark cloud was still lingering over his head. If Bobby would be so candid when Buck was barely two words in to saying something, who’s to say what choice words he had about Buck when he was gone?

The lawsuit was the worst part of his life, the biggest mistake he had made, and he couldn’t wrap his head around it being thrown in his face when he was ready to walk in and share what was the best news he had ever received. Is that… all he would have here, all he would have been able to look forward to?

He started back down the stairs, his legs acting independently of the rest of his body, a dull tingling spreading through his chest as he finally sat down. He didn’t know if there was a happy medium between cold and numb (‘shock’, his mind provided, ‘you’re in shock’), but whatever it was, he was deep into it.

God, he had honestly thought that was all behind him. How fucking stupid was he to think that he was going to be able to come back from a mistake that huge, even a year later?

“Buck?”

He could feel himself starting to panic—loathe as he was to admit it—but as per usual, Eddie was a step ahead of the game without even knowing it. Even now, just hearing Eddie take a few steps closer to him started to ease his heartbeat, and he swallowed a few times as he nodded, fighting off the headrush as he was able to breathe again.

“Hey, Buck, you good?”

“Hey, Eddie, uh…hey!” Buck stood up and wiped his hands on his pants, paperwork forgotten next to him as he tried to smile. If anything, he knew—he knew to his very core, he knew, he… he prayed Eddie would be able to share this little victory with him. “Eds, you have a second to talk?“

Buck almost swallowed his tongue as the alarm sounded through the station, his jaw clicking shut as footsteps started to come down the stairs.

“Hey, we’ll talk later, yeah?” Eddie called, already heading to his locker. It was all Buck could do to hold it together, nodding his head as he waved them off, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when the ladder pulled out of the station.

Eddie may have had a good start on his day, but Buck did not.

He had woken up, kissed Christopher goodbye as Carla brought him to school, and less than ten minutes later, he had a brown envelope in hand, with a curt “You’ve been served”.

Shannon’s will was being contested. The will that Eddie didn’t even know she had. By her father, who Eddie had only seen twice in several years of marriage.

The will was simple enough—a few grand left to Christopher’s college fund, a small pair of earrings to her sister, and that was it. There was nothing to contest, in Eddie’s mind, but contested it was.

He looked over the paperwork twice, and it made less sense the second time around—as much as he hated to admit it, the worst part of it all was knowing that Eddie was going to be alone at work again, because Buck had another day off scheduled in the books.

So yeah, he may have been a little grumpy as he threw a few weights around in the work room for the start of his shift.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Eddie was spiraling; he couldn’t understand how someone could be so bitter, so selfish, to try and stop a few thousand dollars from going into a college fund for their grandchild. His mood only soured as his shift went on, there were no distractions, no calls, nothing to help him pull his head out of his ass, and no one he could talk to. Chim had almost bitten his head off when he said hello to Hen that morning, Bobby was dealing with yet another broken down, tax funded nightmare, and Buck—

And Buck was here.

“Buck?”

Eddie did an honest to god double take as he saw Buck sitting on the bench, like he had been summoned from the depths of Eddie’s mind, even though he looked like he was in a state of shock.

“Hey, Buck, you good?”

He couldn’t lie, it made his heart skip a beat when Buck smiled at him—even if he could tell that Buck’s heart wasn’t in it.

Before he could say anything more, the alarm sounded through the house, and Eddie was about a step away from fully losing his mind. “Hey, we’ll talk later, yeah?” He said, trying to give a small smile as he started to double back to his locker.

The call, to put it mildly, had not gone well—any fire call where the main focus wasn’t the fire was bound to be troublesome. A ten year old had started a fire in a laundry room, which should have been simple enough, except it was the same laundry room that he and his brother had apparently been locked up on for months.

Suddenly what started out as a fire call turned into fire, medics, and police, and Eddie felt his hands start to shake as he worked with Hen to revive a ten year old boy. Barely older than Christopher. It wasn’t the first time he had seen abuse face to face, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last, but something about it was working him up more than usual. He was glad his shift was almost over—the only thing he wanted to do was go home, hug his kid, and sleep.

“—ooh, Mads, they’re back, gotta go. Hey, Eddie!”

He knew he was in deep when not even hearing Buck’s voice could brighten his mood—it was all he could do to hitch a half-hearted smile onto his face as he stepped off of the spare rig.

“Good call, right? Maddie said it sounded like everyone should pull through.”

Eddie just felt himself wind up tighter as he shook his head, rolling his jaw to force himself to keep it loose. “No, Buck. It was not a good call. It was a very bad call.” Bad didn’t even begin to cover it. Eddie could still feel his heart in his throat, feel a tiny body in his arms as Hen started compressions.

He was too wrapped in his own world to notice Buck falter, clearly thrown in the conversation. “Well, hey, if you’ve got a second—“

“Come on Buck, give it a break. I just want to get the fuck out of here as soon as I can.”

Pulling his boots off, he tossed them with perhaps a bit more force than needed into his locker, missing the way that Buck’s face shuttered. “You too, huh?”

“‘You too’? The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Eddie, I just wanted to share some good news, and—“

“Well things aren’t just good or bad, Buck! Just because no one died does not make a good call, and just because things are bad right now doesn’t mean I have to be cheered up. I’m allowed to be pissed off. I’m allowed to have one fucking minute!” Eddie snapped, chucking his jacket against the hamper in the corner, jaw clenched so hard he would have been afraid of cracking a tooth if he was in his right state of mind.

“So please, tell me what is so god damned important that I can’t see my kid until you tell me.”

The moment the words left his lips, he knew it was a mistake. The only person that loved Chris as much as Eddie was Buck, and he knew that, saw that more clearly than ever as his white hot anger dulled into something more manageable. He swallowed as he turned around, and… fuck, Buck wasn’t even looking at him.

“…Buck, I—“

“Clean bill of health.”

Buck couldn’t bring himself to look up up as he tossed the stack of papers onto the bench, doing his absolute best to keep himself composed as he spoke, his jaw tight and brow furled.

He had been so proud of himself for avoiding a panic attack while they were on the call. He had never gotten them before this past year, but between the earthquake, tsunami, Maddie’s kidnapping, and bomb, he had become fast friends with the crushing weight. But he had done well—he kept himself above water, so to speak, and when he called Maddie he was proud to say that his voice was almost steady, and prouder still when she congratulated him for his job well done in therapy, demanding he come over and celebrate tonight.

Well, even if he couldn’t count on his family friends team, he could always count on Maddie. It was a small joy in the world, but right now, it felt like it was all he had.

“Officially back to 100% mobility in my crushed ankle, officially out of the woods for another clot. Did you know it would take me a year to be clear of another embolism, because I refused blood thinners? Well, I figured you might, since you’re been running calls without me, every other week for a year, while I sit in a hospital room.”

Buck finally brought himself up to meet his teammates eye as Eddie’s frustration started to give way to confusion, and that, that hurt more than anything else today. Had anyone even realized why his schedule changed every other week? Did anyone care? “And alright, like you said, it might not be that important to you all but—“

“Buck, you—“

“But it’s really fucking important to me! All I wanted to do was share the good news with the people who are supposed to be family, my team, and instead all I got was blown off, snapped at—Eddie, I mentioned the word doctor in front of Bobby and his first concern was if he had another lawsuit on his hands.”

Buck was mildly aware that he was shaking—he had never really handled stress like this well—but the bigger concern was the tightening in his throat, that sinking pressure he felt right beneath his lungs. He could handle a lot of things, but that didn’t mean he could handle crying in front of Eddie quite yet.

“It’s been a year, Eddie, and I thought things were getting better, so what gives? What did I do, what have I done to deserve being treated like this? I’m serious, please, tell me, so I can fix it!”

Buck’s voice was reaching a fevered pitch as he gestured around the locker room, feeling himself splinter as he begged, literally begged, to know what he had done—why his work had meant nothing. Would he be mortified later? Probably, but everyone had a breaking point, and Buck was realizing (belatedly) that he was past his.

“All I wanted to do today was share a victory with my team, at least share it with you, you’re supposed to be my best friend, and I—I don’t get why—“

If Buck could clearly see Eddie’s face, he might have laughed at the pale, slack jawed, panicked expression before him. As it was, though, his eyes were starting to burn, and even as he reached to rub them, his body finally gave up, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Why is everyone being so fucking mean?”

Buck didn’t bother with another platitude as he pushed past Eddie, rubbing tear tracks off of his cheeks. He felt his face heat up as he stormed out of the firehouse, fumbling for his keys, and heaven help any member of the 118 who stood in his way.

Buck was crying.

The team had made Buck cry.

Fuck, Eddie had made Buck cry.

He just stood in the locker room as the sound of Buck’s Jeep faded into the distance, feeling his heartbeat throughout his entire body. All Buck wanted to do was share some positivity with the team, and Eddie had… eviscerated him. He bent down to pick up some of the papers Buck had left behind, his heart falling even further (as if that was possible) as he read over the paperwork.

Fuck.

“Hey, Eddie, is Buck in here? Chim said he wanted to talk to—woah, what’s wrong?”

The sweat on Eddie’s skin had cooled (hell, how long had he been standing there?) and guilt sunk heavier into his stomach as Hen walked into the locker room, with Chim trailing behind her. Eddie’s eyes were still glued to the release in his hand, barely noticing as Chim spoke, staring down at his phone.

“Uhhh… why is Maddie telling me to camp out with one of you tonight?” he asked the room as a whole, sharing a confused glance with Hen before they both locked eyes on Eddie, who… well, who probably looked as bad as he felt.

Which, considering Eddie felt like he was about to cry himself, was saying a lot.

“We fucked up. I fucked up. I think—I think we broke Buck.”

And he had no idea how to fix it.

#911 #evan buckley #edmundo diaz #buddie #(maybe if you squint)#hurtfic #buck needs a hug #fic #911fic #911 on fox #flospeaks

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okaybutlikeimagine · 4 years

Note

really weird hc but i think steve never cries, like it’s not that he doesn’t want to he just can’t??? he’s filled with emotions and he knows he technically should be crying but he just can’t. But billy on the other hand, if you asked him he’d deny it but he cries all. the. time. when he’s angry. when he’s sad. when he’s stressed. when he’s happy and laughing. he just can’t control it.

This is such an interesting headcanon and I DEFINITELY agree!!!! I think it makes perfect sense!!

Bc the way I think about it, Steve’s life has been a lot more performative than Billy’s has, if that makes any sense? Like, I think of Steve’s parents and I think of the kind of terrible people who had a kid just to 1. Pass down the name and 2. Say they have the “perfect family”. Like, they toted Steve out for parties just like Daisy does in Great Gatsby and then they’d hand him off to the sitter or the nanny or the maid or whatever. They didn’t actually want to raise a kid and understand that kid as a person, they wanted a trophy to say: “See this? This proves our relationship is strong and our marriage was worth it.”

And then, in the background, before Steve would be dragged off to whatever private function he was being forced and dressed to attend, his mom would grab him harshly and tightly around his little shoulders and kneel down to look him right in the eye and say: “You behave yourself, understand? There are going to be very important clients there and if you bother us while we’re working, you’re going to be grounded for a whole week. No, two. No toys, TV, nothing. You hear me?” And just imagine a little Steve, about age 5, blinking owlishly at his mom and nodding his head bc of course he can hear her, she’s right in his face, but the only thing he knows about “clients” is that they make his parents yell at each other and that they’re the reason his parents never read him bedtime stories or tuck him in at night

And I really don’t know a whole lot about like… the lives of the rich and famous, but I just can’t help but imagine Steve’s parents going to parties with the other “elite” in the area. And I use the term “elite” loosely bc i mean… let’s face it…. They still live in Hawkins. They’re definitely rich but it’s not like they’re rubbing elbows with high society over here. They’re the kind of rich, snobby, stuck up people who think they’re better than the people they share a community with. It’s the reason they’re not home very often: they hate being reminded about the fact that they haven’t moved out of Hawkins.

So they go to lots of rich, stuck up parties. And they hold Steve up like a trophy to their friends about how they have a kid already and “where’s yours, Patricia? Oh, don’t have one yet? Are things alright with you and Greg? Oh, just wondering, because if you don’t have a kid yet, well…. Maybe something’s wrong at home…”

and so Steve, with fresh threats swimming in his mind, stands there and smiles and takes all the cheek pinches and head pats even though he’s only a child and is about to fall asleep on his feet because they’ve been walking around meeting people for hours and the other kids won’t play with him because they think he’s “boring” or “stupid” or “poor” (which doesn’t make sense to him bc he’s the richest kid in his preschool as far as he’s aware. He figures the preschools must be different here.) so he puts on a mask even for the other kids. He pretends he doesn’t like playing in the mud or collecting bugs or making jokes about boogers. He puts aside acting like a kid to act like these kids just so he can play with them. Sometimes it works.

And so I think he learned not to cry at a very young age. Honestly, i dunno if you’ve heard about it, but I’m channeling The Who’s Tommy over here. Like, the whole “kid is threatened not to speak about this thing, that he didn’t see this thing, and that he didn’t hear this thing and thus goes deaf, blind, and mute”. And obviously a little less dramatic than that, but Steve’s always been told not to cry. When he would cry he’d get punished. It’s like a weird Pavlovian effect. Ever since he was a kid he was asked to put on a show for everyone, told not to pout or whine or cry, and now he just…. Can’t. He almost fears it. He hears his parents threats, even now at the age of 18, and smiles and laughs rather than cries. And sometimes he cries… that night that Nancy called him bullshit and told him she didn’t love him he went home and ripped a blanket she had (apparently lovelessly) gifted him and broke his lamp and accidentally sliced his foot on the glass of the lightbulb…. and cried and… and it felt like failure. It was only a couple of tears, hot and angry and rolling slowly down his face and he let his throat catch fire as he held everything else back. He was angry with himself at that point, more than anything. He looked himself in the mirror and heard his father’s words of “A Harrington never cries. Are you a true Harrington?” and sucked it all back in and did whatever he could to take his mind off of it, even though everything he did always ended with him fuming about the words over and over again and caused him to end up punching pillows and angrily drinking all the beer out of the fridge.

But Billy’s different.

Billy is a volcano. A volcano of every single emotion you can think of. He experiences them all violently and viciously and they take over his system until his body physically can’t hold back from crying. We SEE him cry multiple times in the show!!! And i like to think it’s bc rather than be toted around, he’s been locked in. where Steve’s parents drag Steve around to different social functions, Neil locks Billy up so he- and no one else -has to look at him. Steve is forced to be around others and put on a mask and Billy is forced to be alone, with just himself and his thoughts. He doesn’t need to mask himself when he’s alone.

And that’s not to say that Billy doesn’t also put on a show for others- because he most definitely does. I think a lot of what he does is performative bc he feels he needs to and his thought process for it lines up with Steve’s for himself: he’s just not good enough. He wasn’t good enough for his mom to stay, he wasn’t good enough for his dad to love in his mother’s absence, he wasn’t and isn’t good enough for anything. So he puts on a show of this big tough guy and he manipulates people and he calls it entertainment.

And this isn’t to say that he didn’t get yelled at for crying, either! Bc he definitely did. He’s gotten hit a few times for tears in his eyes but it was always followed with being locked in his room and being told that he was “embarrassing to watch”... and in the four walls of his room he cried more. Bc growing up, the one thing he found relief in was being sent to his room or even having his room in the first place: it gave him a space to be alone and let his emotions out. And he never tried to, his body always just did it for him. Bc crying is often a very visceral thing, and also a very natural and very human thing. It releases chemicals in your body to help soothe you and lord KNOWS Billy needs to soothe himself bc once his mom left, no one did it for him. His body realizes the emotions that aren’t being sorted and his mind knows when it’s safe (when he’s alone, when Neil’s turned and walking away, when no one can hear) and it cries. I just imagine Billy on constant vibrate, brimming with emotions and filled to the edge with too many things with everything with all of it and he just cries because there’s so few outlets for him. His body has grown accustomed to taking care of itself in that way. And so when he’s had too much (and the threshold on some days if very small), he rushes to his room and slams the door and as soon as it’s latched he’s near drowning in tears bc he needs release.

And let me tell you- it freaks the fuck out of Steve.

Because like you said, Steve just doesn’t cry. And the first time Billy and Steve have sex, Billy cries as he orgasms and Steve freaks. out. He thinks he did something wrong and he’s fretting over Billy and his heart is racing and he’s fighting with himself about if he should hold Billy’s face or step about 5 feet away from him because holy shit what happened??

And Billy feels like an idiot but there’s no stopping his body because he’s so overwhelmed by feeling so good and it’s been a long time coming for him and Steve and after all of that anger and animosity between each other, it was just too much and he cries. And he punches Steve while he’s crying, trying his best to growl but hiccuping around the words instead as he says: “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m so sorry Billy, holy shit! What do I do?!”

“Go get me a tissue, you dumbass!”

And he’s sniffling and blows his nose loud and Steve is in awe that Billy is still such a hardass even with tears running down his eyes.

And this happens a LOT. Every time Billy and Steve have sex, Billy tears up after he orgasms. It’s not always full on waterworks like the first time, but his eyes always water as he lays there with Steve, body lit up and hot like a fucking campfire, and he lays there and breathes and a tear rolls down his cheek and Steve has gotten so used to it that he leans over Billy and kisses the tear right at his cheekbone and whispers how beautiful he is. (and that usually makes Billy tear up even more, to which he shoves Steve with whatever strength he has left and tells him to shut his mouth)

The first time they tell each other “I love you” it’s the same thing. Billy whispers “I love you, too” and there go his tears. His chest heaves and he cries into Steve’s collarbone, gripping Steve’s shirt and Steve just kind of chuckles a bit and rubs Billy’s back and maybe cracks a joke about how he’s “such a sap” and Billy tilts his head so he can bite at Steve’s shoulder and make the boy yelp.

And the first time Billy catches Steve about to cry, he sees that the boy is about to run away. Bc he’s taken notice to the fact that Steve doesn’t cry and he hasn’t brought it up more than twice bc Steve is obviously anxious when he talks about it but Billy gets worried for him bc Steve always acts like he’s okay and Billy knows that’s not good. So when he catches Steve’s eyes watering and then Steve turning to lock himself away somewhere, he grabs the boy in the most forceful hug he can manage so that he can’t squirm away and hide himself and he says: “Don’t run away from me. Are you gonna cry?”

“Billy-”

“Then do it. You’re not a robot.”

“Billy stop I-”

“You’re human, you fucking dumbass.”

“Don’t call me-”

“It’s okay.”

And that makes Steve’s chest heave. He sucks so much air in he squeaks and his chest pushes against Billy’s own and Billy grabs tighter and nuzzles his head into Steve’s neck and whispers.

“You’re safe, Pretty Boy.”

And he stands there and he lets Steve cry. Lets himself be whatever physical and mental support Steve needs as he finally, finally let’s his body take over and just cries.

#ask #anonymous #billy hargrove #steve harrington #angst #hurt #comfort #harringrove #sorry this is a little off/weird #I'M feeling a little off/weird #i've been in a really bad headspace recently #but i really wanted to write something and i wrote this really quickly and.... yeah #♥#sorry this took a billion years to answer #i swear i'm gonna get to all my asks guys #eventually #there are a lot of things going on and they're giving me nervous breakdowns

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a-very-fond-farewell · 4 years

Text

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 22/?

Drama AU [this is just an idea tho, no plot basically]: “Did you find a bitch in me?”

[JC-focus crackships galore baby! title is from a Marina Diamandis’s song (“Hermit the Frog) but that’s probably not important for the non-plot so... yeah]

“So... wait a minute.”

“Hit me.”

“I’m still confused.”

“About?”

“Wen Qing... why should I know about your ex’s exes?”

“Because he’s a bisexual menace and I don’t want him to ruin this for me.”

“Jiang Cheng is not going to sleep with me.”

“What do you know tho? He’s that powerful.”

“Babe, I’m a lesbian.”

“And he has dated everyone in our circle of friends and their significant others.”

“Big lesbian energy, you’re absolutely right.”

“Thank you. I taught him well.”

or the only au where there’s only drama and no plot and JC went from experimenting to actively turning people gay or straight just because.

[attn: in this au Jin GuangShan is not, I repeat, not a bitch and did not, in fact, have other kids aside from Jin ZiXuan bc I say so. don’t make me complicate this non-existent plot more, please]

[under the cut for more!]

ok. got it. JC knows he’s no saint. hell, he doesn’t even qualify as a decent human being, alright. he’s that socially abominable. but things have escalated to a point where he doesn’t even know what to do. maybe become a hermit, lock his dick and call it a day. yeah, that should do the trick. because he really doesn’t know when it all started... no. that’s a lie. total bullshit. it was Nie HuaiSang.

so, SO, he may have been 16. sweet bush child with no future nor name. a great big sister, a stupid big bro, an overachieving mother, a distant father, the usual. save for fucking Nie HuaiSang and his stash of porn. and JC was straight. and he just wanted to check if the link his high school friend sent him was a jumpscare or not. he closed the tab right after the first moan echoed in his room late at night, he forgot to put the jack in and his earphones were possibly all the way back in his backpack on the kitchen table. fuck his life. and also fuck HuaiSang for being into weirdly sensual artsy porn on top of that. fuck his life. fuck the replay button too.

coincidentally, HuaiSang was his first kiss, first head, first everything only one year later and JC still talks to the jerk to an extent, but not because he wants to, okay? they were experimenting, but JC was still straight. he wanted to do good on his first actual relationship with a woman, whatever that meant for him at the time. HuaiSang was okay with that, the lying bastard. JC may or may not have grown fond of him by the time their graduation came, but they never got around to talk about it because they were stupid and young.

also, HuaiSang’s brother had caught them once and JC had known there and then why his non-boyfriend had decided to cut things loose afterwards. that jock was scary as fuck.

then. THEN. university came and Wen Qing was the one reminding JC he was still very much as straight and unbendable as he could get. it took him three years to not yell at her in frustration and ask her out: the sexual tension between them fueled by rivalry over good grades and the scholarship program they both wanted to have access to for their masters.

she had been the one asking him out. JC was lying about having the balls to do it, obviously. the fact that she also discovered to be a lesbian while being with him could have burned less, all things considered, but JC knew he had made love to her and that was enough for him. letting her go had been the right thing to do and they still talk everyday and she loves his nephew and everything is fine.

JC is FINE.

it only took him the two remaining years of his masters to get over her, but. FINE.

he’s not gonna talk about her brother. it happened only once. okay maybe once that particular night, at a bar and they were drunk and Wen Ning was nothing like his sister and the boy always had a slight crush on him and he was the one suggesting it, okay?

Wen Ning was kind and gentle and kissed way better than his sister and maybe after two years JC could get over it and move on and they could still be a family after all and that last stall in the staff toilet had been where JC’s bottom cherry was popped and oh gods that felt so good...

“actually, Jiang Cheng, you’re lovely. but I think I’m actually really straight so... I’m sorry. I hope we can still be friends?”

yeah. JC’s not gonna talk about fucking Wen Ning.

maybe the fact that his brother Wei Ying got married so soon was the reason why. it has to be.

JC hated, HATED Lan Zhan. he hated how much in love they were. how softly they moved around each other. how much he wanted some of that as well.

and since he was THAT petty he had to flirt with Lan Zhan’s brother (Lan Huan) because of it. the man was terrifyingly good looking and a gentleman. so much he didn’t want to give in to JC’s requests... because he already had a boyfriend.

JC knew nothing about said boyfriend aside from the fact that he was apparently a snake, whatever Wei Ying meant by that.

Lan Huan looked very intrigued, but he’s also very loyal and JC admired him for that. he didn’t want to have that conversation tho, the one where Lan Huan politely asked him to stop being so charming in his periphery, so JC decided to hide for a month or two and maybe extended that period of time and never show his face again while he’s at it.

Lan Zhan would have also had his head on a fucking plate if he dared touching his precious older brother so, there’s that as well.

so he dated a bunch of people after swiping them on apps left and right, got the hitch out of his system and felt miserable about it.

Nie HuaiSang came back into his life like, the day before JC started working for a new company and asked him out for a drink. HuaiSang was crushing for a man too young for HuaiSang’s comfort because he usually liked older men and this boy was fresh out of his bachelor and JC’s friend was well in his late twenties and didn’t have a job yet and...

JC shut him up with a kiss and they felt slightly less lonely afterwards, until they actually talked about their issues and decided to stop being messy and grow out of their bad habits.

JC still fells sick at the idea of being someone else’s “bad habit” though.

Wen Chao was a mistake.

Wen Chao’s girlfriend was a mistake.

Wen Chao’s brother was a mistake.

Their bloody uncle was a mistake.

Their father was an even more spectacular mistake.

JC has yet to find out how he survived the year of his thirtieth birthday, honestly. that shit had been wild as fuck.

YanLi and her husband offered JC to look after Jin Ling more often in order to make him feel some sense of safety, he knew that much. at the time, JC hated the fact that ZiXuan worried over him and that his own sister didn’t know how to help him either.

people at work had started to treat him differently as well, now that they knew how messy he was. he started getting treated for depression soon after being promoted to supervisor, his workaholic tendencies saving him from himself after years of sleeping around and drinking too much for his own good.

A-Su was YanLi’s friend from university and was kind enough to ask him out one day. she stayed with him for a year before apologizing to him, saying she wanted something more: a family, a future, something JC could have not given her anytime soon.

his brother and Lan Zhan adopted a boy and JC became an uncle for the second time. A-Yuan was difficult to look after, having survived stressful living conditions in his early childhood, so Wei Ying appreciated the extra hand when JC offered it to him and his husband.

looking after children forced him to be not so angry all the time and now Jin Ling had a cousin he could play with and was very glad his Jiujiu was feeling better.

when Lan Huan came back into his life, JC had forgotten about even attempting to win him over in his early twenties. it felt life a lifetime had passed.

they started as friends this time around, but JC felt nothing for him and he was okay with that. they were good uncles to A-Yuan and that was enough.

what really caught JC off guard was when Meng Yao stumbled upon him one day in midwinter, crashing on JC and sending his briefcase up in the air. the older man was apologetic and kind and gods forbid JC still needed some of that in his life. even if it was the other who had crashed into him, JC offered to buy him coffee since Meng Yao’s cup was now sadly rolling out frame on the snowy path.

to his utter astonishment, Meng Yao accepted.

JC took his time with him, willing to slow down and really get to know this new man who seemed so welcoming and easily approachable... yet so impossibly far and unreachable.

Meng Yao confessed cheating on his previous partner with his best friend five years prior and how he felt undeserving of another chance with someone as kind as JC. he revealed how therapy helped him work on his tendency of manipulating others and that this was the only reason why he wanted to be honest with JC and tell him the truth. so that the younger man could make up his mind if Meng Yao could be granted a chance with him.

this heartfelt confession startled JC in the beginning, especially bc Meng Yao seemed adamant about not sleeping with him for the foreseeable future, unless they talked it out some more.

on JC’s thirty-fourth birthday, one year after meeting Meng Yao, JC asks him to marry him during a pleasant dinner the older man has planned for him.

to his horror and absolute joy, A-Yao accepts.

JC didn’t mind not having been intimate with him until then, nor he would have minded if A-Yao never happened to change his mind on the matter. JC felt safe with him, even when he saw him reminiscing the past with grief painting his features behind his fake smile. JC knew he could give him happiness and so he asked him to meet the Jiangs for the first time to announce the good news.

all but Wei Ying and his husband have arrived the even JC brought A-Yao home, their car stuck in traffic. they start eating without them, with the couple’s permission. YanLi and ZiXuan didn’t bring A-Ling this time around, not willing to leave too soon and waste a chance to really get to know the new member of their family. JC’s father seemed pleased to meet with A-Yao, exchanging pleasantries and conversing about common interests...but JC’s mother is weirdly cold and distant that night.

once dinner came to a end, finally Wei Ying arrived, apologizing profusely for making the lot of them eat without them. however, nor he or his husband could take their eyes off of A-Yao...and neither could JC’s fiancé.

“if you still have some dignity to spare, I suggest you leave this very moment,” said Lan Zhan, the most he has ever spoken in one breath in front of JC. to which, to JC’s astonishment, A-Yao answered by giving JC one last look and the saddest smile he had ever worn...before leaving the house and never look back.

confused, heartbroken, humiliated...JC didn’t know what to feel when Lan Zhan explained to the lot of them what Meng Yao had done to Lan Huan after eight years together. cheating on the kindest man alive with an old acquaintance of his that to that day remained unnamed bc Meng Yao refused to reveal their identity.

JC’s mother didn’t have to tell her son that she had known all along something was off about A-Yao: JC could feel it in the way she was looking at him, sitting next to him on the couch. she had a sixth sense for venomous people.

the following year, JC is pretty sure it passed in a blur. he remembers working less hard than what he was expected to do, been consequently and rightfully demoted in his company. others gossiped about him being so proud for nothing in the end, which aggravated his mood.

to his surprise, his mother was the one suggesting him to take a break somewhere nice. to clear his head for a month or two before deciding what to do with his life. Wei Ying booked him a trip to Taiwan the following day and in less than a week JC is on a plane to take a long vacation there.

one night, roughly a week after his arrival at the hotel, JC was staring blankly at the skyline in deep thought. he had done the tourist-y shit, eaten all the foods in the best restaurants, brought presents for his family. and now he was bored out of his mind. the same, old questions swirling in his mind: did A-Yao lie when he said he loved him? did he lie just so he could have a fresh start and forget about the past? did he leave bc he felt guilty for his past with Lan Huan? was he serious when he had accepted JC’s proposal?

that’s when Mo XuanYu came barging into his life like a hurricane.

the younger man, seven years his junior, spotted him from an adjacent balcony and proceeded to talk to him as if...trying to de-escalate a suicide attempt from his part.

“sir, please. I’m sure there’s more to life than this. I don’t know what happened to make you feel this way but...everything will be fine in the end. I promise you. I was there. It’s okay. please don’t jump over the balcony.”

JC had no intention of jumping, just to be clear, but something in his eyes must have caught the kid’s attention and...was that a steward uniform he was wearing? did he work for the hotel? JC was none the wiser but that was the first time someone had reassured him so wholeheartedly without even knowing him and it felt...weird.

he started tearing up and the younger man panicked, promising to keep him company all night if necessary, reaching out with a hand to touch JC and reassure him from the other side. JC grasped it gingerly in his own and let himself be coaxed back to the realm of the living by such gentle soul.

JC hated himself for sleeping with him not even a week after their encounter.

but it just felt so good to let himself be guided by hand to the most hidden and wonderful places. away from the tourist crowd, eating delicious food with someone smiling prettily at him. yet he hated himself more for thinking about someone else in bed with him, at least in the beginning.

Mo XuanYu seemed to know anyway, and even encouraged him to just do whatever he felt like with him. casual hookups didn’t have to be meaningful, the younger man had said, and it wasn’t even the first time someone used him as a rebound either. still, something ugly stirred in JC at that.

so he decided to stop thinking about himself for once and shoved every bad memory away. all to pour his affection into someone else and cater to his lover for the following month and a half. borrowed time of a stolen season, during which JC doted on the younger man and learned to listen.

some of the stories Mo XuanYu told him felt slightly familiar, almost as if they had a friend in common and didn’t know who it might have been. after his shift, the younger man would ask to eat with JC and share his frustrations, repaying him in kindness with sweet kisses and even sweeter smiles that felt a little bit too brittle in the morning, when he was bound to leave.

by the end of JC’s trip it was clear to him that he had grown fond of the other man, too much for his own good. but during a vacation, away from home, surrounded by new and exciting things...anyone would have worn a mask to forget their normal life, that reality they would have eventually been forced to come back to.

by the end of his vacation, JC had figured out who their common friend was and remembered how distant Nie HuaiSang had felt falling in love with Mo XuanYu. how sad the younger man’s emotional unavailability has made him feel.

and when they parted ways at the airport, JC kissed him goodbye and never saw him again. the memory of Mo XuanYu’s brittle smile engraved forever in the back of his mind.

back to work. back to his bad bitch persona. it felt good to focus on his job and nothing else for a year or two, keeping others at distance while bossing them from his office as he regained his boss’s trust. being promoted a second time gave him the confidence he needed to move on with his life and by his thirty-seventh birthday he could finally see a future for himself.

therapy was helping a great deal and even his siblings seemed to notice his progress, praising him for his willingness to seek help and his hard work.

A-Yuan and A-Ling included: the kids were growing up too fast, involving their uncle in their school projects and plans for mischief any chance they got to see him.

Lan Huan caught everyone by surprise one day in autumn by confirming YanLi and Wei Ying’s suspicions about his breakup with Nie MingJue, Nie HuaiSang’s older brother.

the older man didn’t tell them why he had stepped back from his engagement with the man, aside from saying that the both of them had found out something concerning about their past and common acquaintances. the discovery making them feel so disheartened to the point of braking their engagement of mutual accord.

JC felt bad for the man, knowing how much it hurt to lose someone so dear. not that they had had been able to discuss over the matter much, not even after A-Yao had left. it would have been awkward to talk about their common ex and his penchant for secrets and hurting other people’s feelings.

but they understood each other well enough and started talking more, out of their common interest in their nephews and their well-being.

five years later, JC was forty-two and content with his life. A-Ling was close to thirteen and A-Yuan quickly approaching fifteen. he could see them growing up and out of his reach, but their affection for him never wavered. until one day A-Yuan called him in the middle of the night, startling him awake.

apparently, his best friend JinGyi had called him for help after being beaten up by his foster mother and A-Yuan didn’t know what to do. calling his parents would have only alerted and worried Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, who were probably still asleep and hadn’t even noticed their son had sneaked out in the middle of the night.

panicked and worried, JC called Lan Huan instead and they left for the hospital. and something hurt at the sight of such a young boy lying still on a bed too big for him. something else clicked in JC’s brain at the sight but it would have taken him several months to realize what exactly.

furious and restless, Lan Huan spend months looking for the woman who had hurt the child, eventually destroying her in court until he pried a confession out of her. social services immediately alerted as JC inquired over the possibility of giving the child a permanent home himself.

not even a year later, JC was able to welcome the kid in their new house in the quietest part of town. it took a while for the boy to adjust, worrying over JC eventually changing his mind and letting him go. “who even adopts someone close to be of age?” JinGyi had asked, frustrated and certain JC would grow bored of him.

but JC was there to reassure him every step of the way, telling him family was forever and not something easily dismissible. he repeated it until the boy seemed satisfied and called him “dad” for the first time one inconspicuous evening at dinner. if JC cried on his pizza, well, nobody has to know.

Lan Huan was glad to listen to JC gushing over his son, more than supportive and borderline enthusiastic to listen to every little progress and new success.

JC knew this was enough, but he would lie saying he hadn’t felt loved by the other man. yet, he didn’t dare hope he could have another chance at happiness at almost fifty years old. Lan Huan himself close to fifty-five and well settled into his career as a lawyer...too much to consider a valuable partnership with someone like JC.

his therapist had bashed him for ages over such insecurity, but JC could only smile at him and shrug. many people didn’t find their happy ending and he still had JinGyi to look after. which seemed a good way to spend the rest of his life.

so it came as a surprise when, one evening, as JC overlooked at Lan Huan building a piece of furniture with JinGyi in their living room, he started crying with love and affection.

“why are you crying Jiang Cheng?”

“I’m happy.”

he really was.

he still is to this day.

[they don’t marry, but they do spend the rest of their life together anyway]

I need a break, this took days to make D:

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sweetest-honeybee · 4 years

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To Hell and Back

Chapter 13

Summary: Ex and Hels go to meet other Hermits but a certain butcher throws Hels into a panic attack.

Characters: Helsknight, Evil Xisuma, Doc, Xisuma mention, Giran mention, Scar mention, and Beef is there briefly

TW: Panic attack, asthma attack mentions, stuff like that.

Yes, I gave scar asthma for this bc I needed a reason for something in this chapter

———————

After that whole ordeal, the two continued to meet at other areas in the map for the next week. Ex proposed the idea to give Hels a little tour, mostly sticking around the shopping district.

“And this is Grumbot, they said he got all messed up so they built a little private world for him,” said Evil Xisuma. They landed on the perch just in front of a small window and peeked inside. “Still happy as ever,” he mused.

“What does it do? Does it have some kind of purpose?”

“Ah, well while I was still staying in Xisuma’s base, they had some kind of election for a mayor of the shopping district. Grumbot if I’m correct was supposed to help Mumbo in winning.”

Hels nodded slowly at the answer. “Alright then...Did he win?”

Ex shook his head with pursed lips. “No, Scar won. He got all the diamonds everyone spent on plots of land for their shops to use for repairs and new stuff and whatnot.”

Hels hummed in response. “Well no wonder Grumbot was so upset. I hope he’s a good leader. When you had me meet him, he didn’t seem much like the leading type. He’s all soft.”

“Soft, yes. But he’s kind to the Hermits and myself. I believe he’s had quite a rough past which probably made way for some kind of pity vote here and there if you ask me.”

Hels gave Ex a pointed look, completely disregarding Ex’s last statement. “Rough past?”

“Yeah, I dunno if you saw that he’s covered head to toe in scars, which is probably where the name came from, but he’s said something here and there about some people he’s come across a long time ago.” The man shrugged. “I don’t know a whole lot about it.”

Hels looked back at the smiling Grumbot. “Well, with a good origin story emerges some kind of hero, I suppose.”

“That’s odd coming from you. I think you’re spending too much time around Xisuma.” The knight merely responded by playfully punching him in the arm.

Then Hels wondered. “Why wasn’t Xisuma the mayor, though? He’s the ruler of-“ Hels gestured around them vaguely “-All of this.”

Ex shook his head. “I thought so too, but he said he’s not the one who makes all the decisions around here and he’s not fitting for the job anyways. Apparently everyone helps with all the decision making and whatnot.”

Hels hummed, considering the thought. “Alright then, shall we continue? I believe there’s some Hermits you haven’t introduced me to. I’ve heard that there’s a creeper-cyborg-guy running around. Something about goats?”

Ex laughed at the thought of Hels meeting Doc. “I actually think the two of you may get along quite well! Same with Joe Hills. His poetry and your dramatic speeches certainly go hand in hand.” He eyed Hels with a grin while the knight rolled his eyes. “But yes, we can continue. Though, I would like you to meet Beef as well but Wels lives near his place. I think it’d be cool to meet the person who practically created you.”

“Well, the vessel anyways.”

“Right, let's head off then and give Grumbot some privacy.”

With that, the two lifted off once more, this time coming across a weirdly shaped mountain miles away accompanied by a large house split into halves. As they landed, they spotted Doc hardly a few meters away. The creeper was too busy moving items to different chests repeatedly, probably sorting, to notice the new company.

“Hello, Doc! I’d like to introduce you to a new friend of mine that’s gonna live on the server for a while!”

Ex must’ve startled the old man. An easy assumption when Doc quite harshly smacked the back of his head on the lid of the chest while standing. Glancing at Evil Xisuma, he rubbed at his neck.

“Next time, I’d rather not have people sneaking up on me.” His eyes then landed on Hels. “Woah, did Wels go through an emo phase?” He chuckled at his own joke.

“Hardy har har. I’m his evil clone.”

Doc merely rolled his eyes. “I’m not surprised. Beef was asking for some help regarding his cloning machine after you were created.”

Hels raised a brow at the comment. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Doc just shrugged. “Dunno. Probably doesn’t want more evil clones running around.” He clapped his hands together. “Anyways! What can I do for you guys, I’m a bit busy at the moment so you’ll have to be quick,” Doc ended with a pointed glare at Hels.

“Just needed to introduce him to everyone and we’ll be on our way. Nothing much else than that. I’ll just let him wander a bit and look around if that’s alright.”

“Fine with me, just don’t use my villagers, farms, or break anything that takes a lot of effort to replace.” Doc waved a hand dismissively as he walked back over to his chest, beginning to sort again.

With that, Hels looked up at the mountain near them. “Hey, what’s with the mountain? Looks like an animal head.”

Without removing his focus from the chest, Doc simply replied, “It’s a goat.”

“Alright then.” Hels looked over at Ex. “I don’t believe there’s too much to look at over here, we can move on. If you’d like me to meet Beef now, we can do that.”

Doc couldn’t help but to glance at them after Hels’s suggestion. “I thought Wels doesn’t want you near his base.”

“Mind your business old man.”

Doc glared at the knight once more and turned back to his chest, grumbling something under his breath along the lines of ‘I’m not that old’. The pair snorted at the scientist.

“Okay, let's go then.”

It wasn’t a very long flight this time, much to Hels’s surprise. He thought Beef lived much farther away than where he settled. The sandstone village came into view within hardly a couple minutes.

But for some reason, Hels found the village intimidating.

“I wonder if he’s here, he’s not around a lot,” Ex prefaced. As if on cue, the butcher came into view from the blacksmith, several iron bars and end rods piled in his arms. “Ah, nevermind then. Let’s say hello!”

Before Ex went approaching Beef, he was caught short by the wrist. He turned and found the knight gripping it quite harshly, a frown deepening on his face.

“Hels, would you please let go of me?”

The knight pulled him back a foot or two behind the building. “Um, actually maybe we can just do this later. He seems busy.”

Ex cocked his head to the side. “That didn’t stop us with Doc, Mumbo, Grian, Star, Xisuma, Stress, Ren-“ Hels shushed him quickly.

“No, I don’t care. Let’s just go.” Hels tugged on his wrist once more, Ex not budging from his current placement. Worry suddenly became evident in his expression.

“Is something wrong?”

Hels just shook his head, a flush creeping across his face, but oddly enough, Ex recognized that it wasn’t the good kind. “No- Please will you just come with m-“

“Is everything alright over here?” The knight stopped mid pull. To his left, Beef stood with purple glittered hands on his hips. “Why are you pulling on him like that, let the dude go.”

Without hesitation, Hels slipped his hand away. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He exhaled shakily.

Beef raised a brow almost in unison with Ex. “You’re not looking so hot, are you feeling okay? There’s a library behind you if you wanna sit in there.”

“Hels, I dunno if you know this but you’re pale. Like really pale. Do I need to call Stress and Xisuma?”

The knight shut his eyes tightly, shaking his head again, harder this time. “Beef please leave,” he croaked. With a slight nod, the butcher left. “I um-“ Hels swallowed thickly, “-Ex, remember when uh- when I said that I get scared sometimes and cry in a corner?”

Ex had to think for a second before his eyes widened. “Is that what’s happening right now?” He looked around frantically. “There’s not really any good corners here-“

“No- No, I just- please just take me somewhere else, I need to be out of this village. What’s uh- where’s the nearest place?”

“Closest place is Wels’s base but we can’t go there.”

Yeah, that would probably make it worse, especially if the other knight was at his base. Then, Hels had an idea.

“Chorus fruit,” he exhaled.

“What?”

“Do you have chorus fruit.”

Ex nodded with an “Oh” and pulled the round purple fruit from his inventory. Immediately, Hels snatched one from him.

“Take a bite on three and hold my hand.” Ex did so. With the final number, the two took a bite and, almost too conveniently, they landed at the greenhouse. Hels didn’t let go of his hand, however, the grip only became much tighter while he dragged them both to the floor.

“Do I need to get someone?”

Hels shook his head, screwing his eyes shut.

“What do I do then?”

The knight struggled for words through vigorous shaking. He just kept shaking his head and leaned into the other, taking the held hand into both of his own.

Ex honestly had no clue what to do. He’s never seen this happen to any of the other Hermits, let alone Hels. But one thing he did know is that a person shouldn��t really be breathing that frantically.

That then tied to a memory back to an event involving Scar. The terraformer had asthma, he knew. He could vaguely pinpoint a moment where Grian had helped him out of an asthma attack. And while he did so, he had Ex retrieve Stress. The evil hermit caught on to the breathing exercises the two followed before following through with his task.

Would that work? Hels didn’t have asthma. Ex wasn’t even sure if those exercises were even for whatever was happening right now.

“Hey- Hey Hels, I’m going to try something. This will be stupid, but bare with me.” He lightly tapped the other on his shoulder with his free hand and Hels lifted his face ever so slightly to face him a bit more. “Good job,“ he repeated the words from Grian. “I need you to breathe with me, can you do that?”

Initially, Hels shook his head once more. But a second after he stopped, there was a small hint at a nod.

“Awesome, just follow my lead.” Ex inhaled slowly through his nose while the knight followed his first step, albeit shakily. He then exhaled out of his mouth, letting Hels take his time to follow again after another bout of shallow breaths. “You’re doing great,” he parroted again. “We’re going to do that a few more times.”

And again, they did. Inhale through the nose, exhale out of the mouth. Granted, when Scar was having his troubles, he had some kind of machinery next to him to help him breathe, but at least this was close. Inhale again through the nose, then exhale out of the mouth.

Absentmindedly, the evil hermit trailed his fingers over the other’s back lightly. He didn’t honestly expect this to work, he thought someone was going to have to come help him. He knew for sure that he was going to have to tell someone about what happened but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it.

Soon, Hels had his face tucked into the crook of Ex’s neck, much to Ex’s dismay. He loved the guy but he’d rather his suit not be wet with tears. Still, he kept his own firm grip in the tangle of fingers between their legs and the attack died down into minimal shaking.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He proposed. Hels pulled himself away from the other’s chest and Ex practically felt his own heart break at the sight. There was the courageous and merciless knight, red faced and puffy eyed, a few tears still making their way down his cheeks, others merely sticking to them. Hels wiped at them pathetically.

“Yeah.”

“Okay then, what happened? What caused it?”

Hels meekly shrugged. “The village I guess. I dunno for sure.”

“Was it Beef? You wanted him to leave almost as soon as he came to talk.”

The knight stuttered. Ex was a bit too blunt for his liking when it came to asking questions. “I- I don’t know- He’s not even that bad. There was…” he took a deep breath. This was pathetic. Here was one of the strongest and most powerful people in Hels talking about his feelings. “The village kind of did it before we even landed,” he finally concluded.

Ex shifted in his spot. “Well, would it help to tell you about something I’m afraid of? Or at least used to be? Xisuma does it sometimes when I’m scared.”

The corners of Hels’s mouth twitched upwards just slightly. “Sure.”

“Flowers.”

“F...flowers? You’re afraid of flowers and you own a flower shop and a greenhouse?” The knight sat up more.

Ex wagged a finger with his free hand. For a second upon noticing this, Hels let go of his other hand. “I said ‘or at least used to be’. I’m not afraid of them much anymore, a little unnerving with some specific kinds, but they’re my favorite thing in the world right now!”

The evil hermit knew he must’ve been doing something right when Hels let out a snort. “Flowers….who would believe.” He shook his head, lightly this time.

“Xisuma certainly found it odd. When I was still in my bad guy days, I came through this portal and everything and I told him I was gonna kill him. He was like ‘What’s stopping you?’ and at the time he was holding flowers.” The knight nodded along to his story. “After that I just ran away and-“

“The Lord of Darkness called you an idiot. I remember that because everyone in Hels heard it.”

Ex pulled a hand to his chest in mock offense. “He did not!” He laughed. “Okay maybe he did.”

The two fell into silence, now noticing the sun falling behind the hills slowly. A minute passed.

“What’s Xisuma afraid of?” asked Hels.

“Xisuma? Oh, he’s afraid of a lot of things. A lot more than me, I think and I’m scared of everything.” Hels chuckled at his phrasing. “Hm, I think he said one time that he was actually quite terrified of Enderman. But he’s not like….run away kind of scared. He’ll attack them when they scare him.”

“Fight or flight,” Hels muttered. Ex took notice to the setting sun.

“We should get going, I don’t want you falling asleep in here again. Are we going to go back to Beef at some point? Or we could meet him somewhere else.”

Hels shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it'll be fine if you give it a couple days.” He yawned. “Jeez, that wore me out.”

#my fic #to hell and back #helsknight #evil xisuma #helsknight x evil xisuma #hels x ex #hermitcraft #evil hermits #long post

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