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vanwritesfan-fiction · 4 months

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Travis Kelce: “I’m tired of always fighting!”

Travis knew tired. There wasn't a day where he didn't come home from practice sore and worse for wear, but eleven years into his career, he had come to love the feeling.

Lately, it felt a lot different. This exhaustion was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was the kind that sunk into your bones and settled there, each muscle aching, his head pounding, a sense of dread in his heart. It had nothing to do with football, and everything to do with the fact that lately, he felt you slipping away with each passing day.

It started off small, a few disagreements here and there, but you always seemed to work it out. Both of you were incredibly headstrong and didn’t know how to back down from a fight, but the love you had for each other always outweighed the need to win. Slowly but surely, the fights became bigger, and the moments of silence became days of silence as the two of you couldn’t find things to say to each other that didn’t start an argument. It didn’t even matter what the fights were about, they were unimportant compared to the fact that your marriage wasn’t working out and no amount of groveling, kicking, and screaming was going to change that.

For the third time this week, he was sleeping in the guest bedroom. It felt unfamiliar and cold, the empty space where you would lay a blaring reminder of your relationship, or lack thereof. Still, he felt that wave of fatigue wash over him, his eyelids heavy as he started to drift off to sleep.

His breath had just started to find a steady rhythm when he heard a large thud across the hall. His eyes shot open as he listened again, hearing a much larger crash that he was sure was coming from your shared bedroom. He followed the path of light teeming from the crack left open at the door.

You were in the closet tearing down any hanger you could get your hands on, piles of clothing laid out on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Travis’ gruff voice startled you, but you didn’t turn around. You didn’t want him to see the tear stains running down your cheeks. “Organizing the closet”, you finally uttered out, biting at your bottom lip to stop another crying spell.

“Baby, its 2am. Go back to bed.” You felt his heavy footsteps behind you, so you stepped forward, creating more distance between the two of you. “I’m not tired.” You let out a quiet sigh, but Travis could see your ribcage expand and contract with a shake. “Sorry I woke you.” You went back to the task at hand, pulling all of your coats off their hangers and tossing them to the ground.

“Babe-“

“Just stop, stop calling me that”, you bit out. “Just go back to bed. I’ll try to be quieter.” You quickly wiped the tear that fell from your eye. The pet name used to make your heart swell, but now it just felt condescending. Travis let out a sharp breath before turning out of the room. He made it a couple of steps before he realized that he was doing what he always did- walking away in the name of avoiding conflict, but so far, the only thing it did was make things more difficult. You were still in the same spot when he returned. He watched your shoulders shake as you quietly sobbed, a lump building in his throat.

“Y/N, just stop. We need to talk.”

“Talk about what?” You tossed a pile across the room. “Talk about how we can’t stand the sight of each other? How we can’t speak to each other without fighting? I’m tired of always fighting! I’ve had enough, Travis.” Your arms felt heavy like lead, but still you pushed on.

“Y/N, stop!” Travis’ booming voiced echoed in the now empty room. You did as he said, stopping in your tracks, but only for a second. “I can’t stop. I need to keep moving, keep busy, so I can stop thinking about how fuckin’ difficult this has been for one fuckin’ second, okay?”

“Babe, C’mere.”

You couldn’t explain how badly you wanted to run to him, but your feet wouldn’t move. The only thing you seemed to be able to do lately was cry, so you let the tears flow freely, tasting the saltiness of your tears as they pooled in the corner of your mouth. “Baby, please, come here.” When you didn’t move, Travis closed the distance between you quickly, wrapping you up in his arms. He felt the wet spots pool on his shirt as you sobbed against his chest, collapsing into his hold.

“I’m sorry, I’m tired of fighting too”, he whispered into your hair, slowly rocking you back and forth.

“I don’t know what to do, Travis”, you admitted when you could finally take in a full breath. “I know, but we’ll figure out a way to fix this. We’ll do counseling, whatever it takes.” He just let you cry, knowing it was what you needed after all this time. When he felt you begin to settle down, he pulled you in for a tighter hug.

“Baby, look at me.” You slowly lifted your head as Travis cupped your cheeks in his large hands. His calloused fingers felt rough against your cheeks as he wiped away the wetness collected in your lashes.

“No matter what happens, I love you so much. That has never and will never change, okay? I will never give up on us.” You shook your head, taking in a shaky breath. He pulled you in for a gentle kiss, before pulling you into his body again, and for the first time, Travis didn’t feel that dread in his heart.

#travis kelce #travis kelce fanfiction #travis kelce fanfic #traviskelce #travis kelce imagine

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emmyrosee · 2 years

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“Dadda?”

Naturally, you were the first to stir, the pitch of your toddlers voice being something you’d been able to recognize even before it slipped from her mouth. It’s muffled slightly behind a pacifier, but it’s still loud enough for your Keiji to wake beside you.

“Mei, my love, light of my life…” there’s a pause. “Why are you awake?” The bed shifts next to you, and it’s plenty hard to cover your laughter as it is, let alone with the causality in Keiji’s asking.

“Snack time?” The small voice peeps. There’s another pause, and this time, Keiji’s trying not to laugh, and he tries to mask such a reaction with a cough.

“N-No, baby it’s uhm…” he looks over at the clock. “It’s two in the morning, snack time’s not for a few hours now.”

“But I’m hungryyyy!” Mei whines, prompted by a ‘shhhh,’ from your husband. “Okay, okay baby, just don’t wake mommy up.”

Too late. But you appreciate the effort. With a yawn, you feel the bed lighten next to you as Keiji stands up. He grunts softly, and you assume he’s picked Mei up to speed up the process.

The rest is fairly quiet, save for the occasional laughter from your three year old and the deep voice breaking through of Keiji. You sigh and follow Keiji’s example, toeing on slippers and finally making your way out to the kitchen, shivering slightly at the cold.

“…that’s why we go to bed every night,” a drowsy voice hums from the kitchen, and you can’t help but chuckle softly at yourself.

“But that’s not what uncle Bo says!” She gasps, and you watch from the doorframe as Keiji drops his head with a defeated sigh, “yeah. Remind me to stop letting you hang out with him.”

Your hand physically comes up to cover your mouth in an attempt to keep yourself unknown, you just want to soak in the scene a little more- Keiji’s arms flex as he balances his fatigued frame against the counter, arms caging Mei while familiar blue eyes blink up at him. It’s something he does commonly to prevent her from falling, but now he just looks like he’s doing it for himself than anything.

“Uncle Bo says you n’ mommy used to be fun, but I think you’re lots of fun, daddy!”

You hear a husky chuckle slip out of Keiji’s lips, and he offers her a shrug and a sigh of exhaustion, “I appreciate that, princess. But please, finish your cereal.”

“I think you’re fun too,” you say, stifling your laughter when Keiji absolutely buckles his knees from fright, nearly collapsing to the floor while your daughter cackles with her mouth full of dry cereal. When he finally is able to recover from his folded knees, he sends you a playful glare and a shake of his head, “oh you’re such a biiii…” he stops himself at the remembrance that his child was right there, and when you cock your brow in challenge, he clears his throat. “-beautiful, loving soul, who I’m proud to call my wife.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said,” you grin, stalking into the kitchen and wrapping your arms around Keiji’s waist. He’s still warm from the sleep he was robbed from, and you nudge your nose against the dip in his back. “Do you want a snack too, my love?”

“Nah,” he yawns. “If I eat now, I’ll be up the rest of the night.”

“Babe,” you snort, watching your toddler put the tiny marshmallows in her cereal to one side, the actual part of cereal to another, her feet swinging softly as she does. “I think we will be, anyways.”

He sighs and drops his head in defeat, “an apple with some peanut butter, please.” You snicker again as you place a kiss to the back of his neck, finally parting to go make his snack.

And sure, tomorrow morning, when Keiji has to snooze his alarm four times, you’ll both regret this. And when you and Mei go to the grocery store, you might fall asleep on your feet as you wait in line, but that doesn’t matter now.

Because right now, there’s a little bundle of joy sat on the smooth countertop sorting her marshmallows from her cereal, and the man who helped make her so perfect stands just a few feet away, sweatpants low on his hip while he forces himself to stay awake.

And there’s not one thing you’d do to change the memory you’re making.

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mentallyshattered · 1 month

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This is part 24 of the "What if Yuu didn't want to go back?" Series!

(I, the author of this work, do not consent to this work being crossposted/translated without my knowledge or used to train an AI, ever.)

Masterlist

We're late. Shit. Only by seven minutes, but there's a lot of gossip in the Backstage Room during seven minutes. Damn!

Luckily, we still have plenty of time for our skincare routines. Grim gets brushed a little faster than usual, but we're good. "Breakfast can be eaten on the way to class," I mutter to myself as I speedwalk down the hall.

"Y'ain't gawt classes t'day! Jeez, yeh jus'a lil' too awn edge 'bout yeh grades, ain't'cha? Cawlm yerself, 's awll awrigh'," says Epel, voice drawling along as it does to add a w into some words that wouldn't normally contain them this far north. I laugh along with him. We were really in such a hurry, and for what? Club doesn't start for a long while today.

In walks Korrak. Mandible is on his shoulder, as usual, and they look... as fatigued as always. Do they know? I can't tell. Maybe their evident exhaustion is from normal causes, whatever those are.

Well, I'm not going to risk it. Those two have never looked fully rested as long as I've known them, and using my signature spell last night showed me that's not a recent development. Even on the day of the entrance ceremony, they looked like there had been about two hours of deep, undisturbed, uninterrupted sleep between the two of them.

...Actually, they look way better now than they did then. I suppose Rook and Vil's care has really had an impact. Good. They deserve it.

Is the same true for me? Did I look like some kind of abomination when I walked in this world for the first time? Thinking back to day one, absolutely. Grim and I actually got taken into the Backstage Room first, and our housewarden spent over an hour and a half on detangling my hair alone- after he spent another thirty minutes on cutting it without breaking the scissors. Maybe I overestimated the difference between me and the boy with the dark blue opossum.

Ok, definitely. I definitely overestimated the difference between Korrak and I. Then again, we're from entirely different worlds, so is that a crime? I hope not.

Oh, well. Korrak isn't looking at me or Grim like anything's different, so we're probably fine. Probably. There's definitely an ethics factor, but I'm choosing to ignore that. For now.

Speaking of problems I'm aware of but choosing to pretend I'm not because the stress of that issue is pressing and I never learned to properly cope with anxiety in any way but ignoring it until I can't and it breaks me, I've heard of a spring and winter break when students go home. What do I do then?

Perhaps my impending doom shows on my face, but It doesn't matter if so because nobody appears to have noticed, and I don't see Rook. That doesn't mean he doesn't see me, though. Good ol' Rook.

He'll find me later. There's a good chance Grim and I will be taken to Vil's room to discuss that, and perhaps my signature spell. I need to get better at using that. There, that's something to do today.

I don't know when I sat down, nor do I know when Korrak and Epel started talking about combat, but it's oddly comforting to hear someone talking about fighting whilst drawing many of their 'a's into 'aw's. All becomes awl, on becomes awn, and so forth.

Did I have these moments before? Of peace, of contentment, of calm? Of simply sitting on a couch and listening to friends speak of violence in familiar voices and tones? No, I didn't, not even that last part. It's nice to know things can improve with as little as... well, not little. Still, it's nice to know things can improve.

I need to start with learning how to trigger Memory Lane. I think it was accidental last night, but I can't recall enough about before to even guess how I set it off then. Perhaps I have to be asleep? Does Grim has to be asleep? How close do I have to be to the person whose memories I'd like to rummage through, physically? Does physical space even matter? How well do I have to know them? Do I have to know them? Can I swap between targets without leaving the spell's area, or do I have to cast it twice for that to happen? Where does my physical body go? Can I take other people there?

I'm getting ahead of myself. First things first: how to start using Memory Lane. No, wait, first is breakfast. I'm almost done with that, so I'll head into the woods to train. I'll probably have to register that with Vil and maybe the headmage, but that can wait. I'd like to learn more about this spell before I tell.

"You look like you've got a plan," murrs Grim. "What're we doing today?"

"We're figuring out that spell," I maow back. Grim grins, sharp little teeth slightly dirty with minuscule chunks of salmon and toast.

"Y'all ain't all that subtle when yer up ter somethin'," teases Epel with a roll of his eyes before he gets up to stretch. "Best I git goin'," he starts again, smirking. "Cain't masta spelldrive without practice, after awll."

With that, Epel is gone, and Mandible turns to chitter at Korrak about something- I don't know what; I don't speak opossum- who then nods, scarfs down the rest of his food, and makes a break for it. He is stopped by Rook, who probably wasn't there a moment ago if my eyes are telling the truth.

"No running in the lounge," he chides gently. "Now, then, follow me!" I assume that has to do with club activities and think nothing of it. We ought to be going, too- daylight only lasts so long.

The forest is quite pretty again, leaves crunching beneath my feet as I step through the rug of orange, red, yellow, and brown that only parts for trees, their roots, and large rocks. The air here is crisp and fresh, good for clearing your head. I'll probably need that to pull this off, but I'm not sure. Can't hurt, at least.

I inhale, holding the air in my lungs and picturing... someone. The breath escapes me. Who should I go for? Myself, perhaps? Grim? Korrak again? Myself, I'll try myself first. Worth a shot, at the very least.

I try again, holding my breath in my lungs with an image of me, as reflected in the Backstage Room's wall-length mirror. My eyes close. My breath exits me in a quiet whisper: "Memory Lane."

I open my eyes to a Grim-grey path beneath my feet and a slightly blueish sky. Not blue-grey, but blue-brown, like the sky was shifting from a brunette brown to an overhead midnight expanse and I walked in on it midway through. The "stars" are small, black dots and streaks that have scattered themselves across the expanse, more numerous than in Korrak's and somewhat grouped into rows that make me think of a river spreading itself over the landscape it cuts through, as if I walked in on them, too.

The trees are willows, not the weeping kind- at least, not until I look close enough to see their branches are held up by vines with stems that match the path and leaves that match the flames in Grim's ears. The trees themselves are the dark, colorless color of my familiar's trident tail, and their leaves vary in color like confetti- some are the signature Pomefiore purple, some are the same blue as the leaves on the vines, some are a different shade of violet I've seen in Vil's eyes, and some are the green of ferns, moss, and Rook's irises. These willows do weep, but the vines prevent that. Interesting.

I wonder what that says about me.

In front of the comforted willows are more memory screens, though mine appear less like floating screens and more like... what's the word? Like those big, fancy graves with something built from smooth marble atop them, honoring the dead by creating something beautiful in their name. Crypt? No, those are underground. Tomb? Maybe.

Mausoleum, that's it. Though, notably, only the memory portal things a little ways away have them- these are nestled in the willows themselves, once low-hanging branches held away from the screen by the vines and slightly obscuring my view of the past anyway. The farther and further I look, the more little white roofs I see.

"Funny," starts Grim, "I don't remember all this. I mean, the sky's bluer than before, the leaves on the trees are more colors, and the fancy buildings are new, too." He dips his head down, eyes facing the ground near my feet. "Then again, it's been years, and my memory isn't all that great. I don't remember my family, just being cold, that striped ribbon, this place, and you." He curls into himself, soft stomach hidden from my sight, and I cannot help but forget for a mere moment that I am holding a catlike unknown as opposed to a newborn human in my arms. The thought soon evaporates like a drop of water on the surface of the sun, though my familiar's pose remains fetal.

"That's okay, Grim," I reassure, hugging him closer to my chest. "We have each other." I do not tell him the whispers of my childhood are blurry and mysterious like fog over the sea. I do not tell him he is all I clearly recall. I do not tell him I've forgotten the face of my reflection so much I thought I was face blind until I realized I only knew what I looked like when I saw myself. He does not need to know.

Nobody does. Not Mandible, not Korrak, not Epel or Rook or Vil or anyone but me. Those teachers are irrelevant now; this new world has new rules that they can't teach me. Those kids were never my friends; they just let me sit with them and tried to talk to me. Those parents aren't my parents anymore; I have new ones.

Methinks I need a distraction. My remedy is to walk a few meters to the nearest one, adjusting Grim in my arms as I do so, and touching the shiny white with my newly free hand. My familiar uncurls and turns his head to watch my fingertips glide accross the pristine, exact surface. Not one bump, dent, or crack.

The memory itself is of searching the woods for a stick to turn into a toy for Grim- it's clear and crisp despite the fact that I haven't touched it and don't intend to. Behind me, the next memory is of learning I had magic. It's just as vivid as the one before it.

Further down the path, though, memory mausoleums are fewer and farther between. It's nowhere near as packed along the sides as Korrak's- a testament to my poor memory, I suppose- or, perhaps it testifies for his being above average. Maybe even both.

I guess that's just my life- forgotten until recently.

Actually, if I look, there are a few. These ones are blurry, concerningly so, and some part of me says they need to be wiped down like soapy windows in a car wash, as though that would somehow improve the quality.

The farther back I go into the faded scraps of my own forgotten past, the fewer and farther between the memories get, and the ones we do find are notably worse than the last, though not by much. It adds up, though. After a while, they look less like life viewed through a dirty lens and more like splotches of color that were filmed through fog.

Then, I see it. This marblelike structure is huge; I'd have to stand on my own shoulders to see the top. What event could this possibly be?

I look. It's crisp like the most recent ones, with clear differences between even a grey, trident-tailed cat and an asphalt road.

Oh.

It's... Grim's death.

...

Yeah, that... that lines up. When did I get on the ground? Oh, I've fallen. Grim is- alive. He's alive, and I'm not losing him. Not again.

It'd be comforting if I could tell myself that wasn't real, but it is. That happened, and it won't again. Not on my watch. I won't let it, no matter what.

"H-hey," starts my frantic familiar. "Yuu... um, look! Over there! I think there might be something under the trees! Let's go and look, okay?"

That's right. That's right. More to see. More to remember. Farther and further back into my faded past.

I stand and look. He's right; the branches are unusually thick here. And, right at the bottom, a rectangle cuts off, like a memory has been hidden by the trees and was revealed by the vines pulling them up.

Gently, slowly, I brush some branches aside. Harshly, suddenly, I am standing in a very nostalgic yard.

Grass. Clover. A mossy wooden fence that my startled mind remembers was willowwood, once upon a time. Grim was right. This is a memory. Speaking of Grim, there he is. In my arms. My eight-year-old, grey-clad arms. I recognize that hoodie- the grey of Grim's fur. It was my favorite as a kid.

Another child is walking down the sidewalk. Small me sees him- blond hair, forgotten eyes- and does not call. He sees small me right back, through the many large holes in the picket fence, and then he stops, his feet in dark cyan shoes I don't remember the style of. His mouth opens.

"Hey! Yuu!" I freeze. It feels almost as though he's calling out to me- not small me, but current me. That shouldn't be possible, and then small me shouts back.

"What?" My old, echoing voice calls back. The boy- Christopher- smiles like he's just been given a pack of gummy bears.

That's right. Christopher. His name was Christopher, and his favorite food was gummy bears. He sat with me at lunch.

"Are you gonna come over to my house this weekend?"

Small me lights up. "Sure!"

"Okay," Christopher shouts back, "see you tomorrow!"

"Bye!" Small me turns back to Grim. I get a good look at him then, and he is visibly younger than the Grim of today. His trident tail, like the rest of him, is smaller, and the blue flames in his ears look more like embers than they do fire, as though they once roared and have been slowly softened by the neverending sands of time.

"Mreew," sqeals the exited bundle of fur.

Small me giggles, ecstatic and still learning cat. When did I master that language?

The door on the house behind me opens, faded paint flaking off in thin shards of what was once green. Young me turns to the obnoxious squeaking, and thoughts drop into my mind like rain into a bucket: That door was greener. Why is it so white now?

The paintless parts of the door are pale brown.

The memory cuts to the following day. Christopher's mother is cutting my hair, and, from where today's me is standing, it oddly resembles Vil doing the same. She's fussing over how it should t be this matted, and how this isn't healthy, and how she's going to call CPS. I can't even remember what that stands for. Did I ever know?

More thoughts flow through me: Their door is so quiet; mine is so loud. Their house is warm like the park is in summer. What color is this? It's like the walls of the doctor's office. Or snow.

I smile to myself. My elementary school was decently fancy when I was a kid, even though Night Raven has since blown it out of the water. Many of the kids who attended came from rich families, and my friends were no exception.

The memory ends, and I'm standing on the road again. It feels like something was cut out, like there was more to it that was lost to time. I guess I'll never know again. Thinking about that makes me feel a little faint.

We should head back. I can't tell the time right now, but we do have club.

I think I can just...

"Memory Lane."

There. Isn't that neat? With just the faintest of whispers and a little bit of magic, we're back in the woods- and my phone is buzzing in my pocket with messages. Specifically, texts from Ortho.

12:02

[This groupchat was created]

[Groupchat renamed to "Board Games Club]

8:34

(666-89-02740) Hi!

This is Ortho Shroud of Ignihyde

You are Yuu of Pomefiore, right?

And Azul Ashengrotto of Octanville

8:35

(534-82-42001) Yes, this is Azul.

Why are you texting us?

The lounge is opening.

(666-89-02740) Board Games club has been canceled for today

Idia is sick

And the club room hasn't been cleaned yet

Neither have the games

8:36

(534-82-42001) Okay, I'll be at the lounge if you need me.

(666-89-02740) Okay!

Yuu, respond when you see this

The first thing I do before I respond is add Ortho and Azul to my contacts. I don't know how Ortho got my number, but it probably has to do with the whole "Ignihyde is the tech dorm" thing. The second thing I do is look at the time, and the third is sigh with relief. We'd be late if it weren't for club being canceled.

10:07

(Yuu & Grim) We have seen this!

(Blue Candle) Got it

Thank you!

I smile. It feels like I'm connecting with this new world a little bit more at a time, and the thought is enough to distract from the still-drying tears on my cheeks. Grim is purring again, probably unintentionally.

And that connection with my old one is gone. Was it ever even there? My life was nothing special, except for Grim. I should know- interesting things stick in my mind. I lost a lot of then after the whole car-and-cat thing, but I remember some of Shakespeare's plays. They were interesting.

I only remember one of them, though- what was it called? The Ides Of March, I think that's it. All I really recall is the name and that some guy got stabbed.

I remember that play better than I remember my biological parents, and I barely remember the play. Did I even live with them? Did I ever know them? Maybe I was raised by a straight couple. Or a lesbian. Or two lesbians.

No matter. Right now, my "parents" are a pair of theater kids, and I'm happy with that. I like them. Vil personally dematted my hair when I first arrived.

...Hold on. I was raised by parents, not aunts or uncles or anything, I know that much. And I know they were alive and in the house. And I know parents are supposed to care for their children.

So, why was my hair a rat's nest when I first came to Night Raven? Why did Vil have to spend so long fixing it? Why am I hyperventilating?!

I hold my breath and pray to whatever will listen to please let me faint. That's what I always did back then... okay, maybe that just means this is a bad thing to do.

Maybe my poor memory is one of the ways I cope. I'll never know with what. That's the point, after all.

My phone breifly vibrates with another message, this one directly from Ortho to me with nobody else involved.

10:46

(Blue Candle) Hey

I can't find anything on you except school-related stuff

Anything

(Yuu & Grim) Why were you looking for that?

(Blue Candle) The nurse asked me if I could find your medical history and stuff

You know

For safety reasons

Seems reasonable. Although, wouldn't it make more sense to contact Vil first? And then Rook? Or the headmage, even? Maybe Ortho knows her personally or something. Maybe she wanted to contact Idia, but he sent his brother in his place. Yeah, that makes sense.

10:47

(Yuu & Grim) Yeah idk lol

Good luck

(Blue Candle) ???

That does not help

(Yuu & Grim) 🤷

(Blue Candle) 😐

😑

😐

I don't send anything new, still processing my delight over the discovery of this world's emojis. By the time I look back, Ortho has sent another text

10:48

(Blue Candle) Meet me in the nurse's office soon so I can get your blood type and stuff

(Yuu & Grim) Ok!

"C'mon, Yuu! Let's go, I'm bored," meows Grim. I smile and nod. I can process this later, anyway.

@cenatour

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #m!yuu #twst yuu #twst grim #twst oc #twst epel #twst ortho #twst azul #twst rook #twst #what if yuu didn't want to go back #tw pet death #tw neglect

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itsgxsly · 1 year

Text

NO GOODBYES

Summary: when you entered F1 almost at the same time as Sebastian, you did not imagine that it would be so difficult to say goodbye to him when the last race of the season arrives

Pairing: sebastian vettel x reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 982

No one had warned you that it would be so difficult to say goodbye to someone you loved. When you met Sebastian on your F1 debut so many years ago, you didn't know that you would love the German driver so much and that he would become an essential part of your life. Now you had to get used to the idea that you were no longer going to have him by your side traveling the world to run on the track. Only Abu Dhabi was left and you still hadn't assimilated it, that's why every time you thinked about it, your eyes would tear up. You had already lost your good friend Michael a few years ago and you swore to yourself that you would take care of his son Mick as long as you could.

The guys had decided to host a Thursday night dinner to commemorate Seb and say goodbye to the 2022 season. So now you were sitting between Seb and Mick. Sebastian's arm had been around your shoulders for a while now and each time you let yourself fall further into his embrace, the alcohol in between dinner making you all more confident for anything. Now you were talking to Mick about the first thing that came to your mind, you wanted to distract the guy that night so he wouldn't remember his recent situation with the Haas team. You were still furious with what they had done to him, but you knew that with Mick's talent, he would be back in F1 in no time. Dinner continues until dawn, and you all decided to finish it since you will have to be early in the circuit for the practices in the Yas Marina. There were hugs and parting words and before you knew it, you were on your way to your hotel with Sebastian at your side. Being the gentleman he was, he hadn't wanted to let you go down the street alone so late, and you hadn't had the heart to say no considering that you might not see him again for a while when he retired.

The mere thought kept you distracted as you walked towards your destination, but you were pulled out of your reverie by a larger, rough hand that slowly wrapped around yours. You looked at Sebastian who was already looking at you with a soft smile and you both continued walking until you reached the entrance of the hotel. You went up to your floor in the elevator without separating your hands yet. When you got to the door of your room, you turned to look at Seb. You looked at each other in silence for a bit and then you spoke.

"Do you want to come in? I'm not completely tired yet” your excuse was poor, all you wanted was to keep him by your side for a while longer.

"Yes, of course" To be honest, Seb wasn't ready to let you go that night either.

You opened the door with the card and you both entered. You sat on the bed to take off your heels while Seb closed the door. With the amount of alcohol you had, you weren't drunk, but you were having a hard time untying the ropes that held the heels to your legs. Soon you noticed two warm hands grabbing your ankle and starting to untie the ropes on their own. You watched Seb in silence as he removed both of your shoes, and you sighed with relief when he finished. You fell back on the bed, noticing the fatigue in your body. You signaled to the German to lie down next to you. Seb took off his shoes too and lay down next to you. You turned your body so that you were face to face. Sebastian placed his hand on your cheek, caressing it with his thumb, almost making you sleep in that instant. Out of nowhere, the fact that you probably won't enjoy a moment like this again next year when Seb is gone came back to your mind. Your eyes watered and obviously he noticed.

"What are those tears for, darling?" His words were soft to your ears.

"It's just..." you breathed so that your voice wouldn't break. "I don't want you to leave, I'm going to miss you a lot" you really didn't want to cry but it was impossible for you at that moment.

“Hey, hey, don't cry, dear. Just because I'm leaving doesn't mean we'll never see each other again” Seb consoled you by bringing your body closer to his chest to hug you.

“But I won't see you as much as before. The grid and the races will not be the same without you. Michael is gone, and now you are too” despite the fact that your voice was muffled in his shirt, Seb understood you and sighed at the memory of his friend.

"Listen to me, love" he raised your face to him so that you would look at him and wiped your tears with his thumb. “I know you miss Michael, I do too. But you will not be alone, you still have the boys and I will be a call away when you need me"

You looked at him still a little inconsolable and you did the only thing you felt at that moment. You kissed his lips softly, it was almost just a light touch between the two of you, but it was enough to make you both sigh. When you parted, Seb looked at you lovingly and spoke to you.

“We will be fine, love. Let's stick together, okay? Because I won't let you go after this"

"okey"

Although you still had things to talk about and clarify, you both were able to sleep peacefully and embraced knowing that whoever was your future, you would be there for each other.

#formula 1 #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel #sebastian #vettel #sv5 #aston martin #danke seb

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cuddlepilefics · 8 months

Text

Persistent fever

Fandom: Ateez

Sickie: Mingi

Caregiver: Yunho

Prompt: @sicktember

No one’s POV.:

It had been almost a week since Mingi had come down with what had originally seemed like a bad cold. His throat feeling scratchy along with the general fatigue was not enough of a reason to keep the rapper from attending his schedule. As time progressed though, Mingi developed a fever and spent most of the nights coughing his lungs out, barely getting any sleep. That was how he soon found himself stuck in his room while the other members were out working. He had set up the humidifier in his room and tried to sleep as much as he could. Yunho had brought him tissues and cough drops, always making sure the younger also had some water on his nightstand before they’d leave for the day. Though Mingi was usually glad to have a room to himself, he did eventually start to feel isolated. The members sure did check in on him when they got home and before they’d leave but they’d sneak in and out if he was asleep, so he rarely ever saw them.

As his temperature tended to fluctuate over the course of the day, Mingi tended to have two or three hours after eating a late breakfast and taking his medicine, that he could actually be up and do stuff. Since none of the members were home, he chatted with them during their breaks and watched dramas while they were busy. Bundled in his blanket, Mingi would sit in the living room, sipping his tea as he glanced at the screen. He could only do that for so long though before his eyes started to water, the thudding in his head growing more intense, making it impossible for the rapper to keep ignoring his symptoms and forcing him to take another nap.

Dinnertime was approaching and knowing his groupmates would be out late, Mingi shuffled to the kitchen to heat up some soup. A shiver ran down his spine and he pulled the blanket around his shoulders tighter as he leant against the cabinets, weakly stirring the pot in front of him. He hated this. Mingi snapped out of his thoughts as his phone started to buzz. Originally, he had silenced it, so he wouldn’t be woken up from a nap but feeling lonely, he was desperate to wake up for any call from his friends. “Hey, how’re you holding up?”, Yunho greeted not sure whether he should be happy about his friend being awake or not. Clearing his throat, Mingi replied quietly: “I’m okay, just heating up some soup for dinner.” – “That’s good, should also be time for another dose of medicine”, the older smiled, “What have you been up to today? Were you able to get a decent amount of sleep?” – “I-I think I slept enough”, the rapper sniffled, lifting the corner of his blanket to rub his nose, “Not in one go but I took lots of naps. Watched TV too till the screen irritated my eyes.”

Though it was clear that Mingi still wasn’t feeling well, Yunho was relieved to see some improvement. For a day or two, the younger hadn’t even been able to watch TV, too sick to do anything really. “How’s your day going, hyung?”, Mingi rasped, lowering the phone, so he could muffle a cough into his blanket. When Yunho was confident his friend could hear him again, he commented: “That still doesn’t sound good. Work’s alright today and I’m glad we won’t be getting home all that late. Might see you in a few hours.” If Mingi was still awake by the time he came to check on him but Yunho didn’t want to say that out loud, afraid the younger would try to stay awake for him. “Hyung, can you- can you wake me in case I’m asleep when you get back?”, the rapper asked hesitantly. Sure, he knew he needed rest but he was tired of being alone all the time, wanting to talk to his friend face to face for a bit before both of them went to sleep. Yunho hesitated but realized this was better than Mingi staying up late, so he sighed: “Yeah, I can do that. Under one condition that is. You need to promise me you’ll at least try to get some more sleep before we get home.” The younger was quick to agree, though disappointed that Yunho had to end the call as his break was over.

Mingi sat on the couch, legs pulled close to his body as he felt his skin prick with goosebumps. He could tell his fever was rising by the way he felt progressively colder. Good thing he’d take medicine once he had finished his soup. Sadly, the warm meal didn’t help Mingi feel any warmer but placing the bowl into the sink, he decided he could take a warm shower before going to bed. He quickly rinsed down his medicine before shuffling to Yunho’s room to steal one of his hyung’s hoodies. Once he had compiled a cozy looking outfit, Mingi stepped into the bathroom. Shuddering as the cold air hit his skin, he undressed and hurried to get in the shower, so the water could keep him from freezing. The sudden warmth made his skin tingle but as the minutes passed, he felt more and more comfortable. Mingi braced one hand against the shower wall as he coughed, the steam loosening the congestion in his chest. Though his nose started to run, it didn’t take long for him to breathe a little easier.

Washing off the sweat had done a great job at making Mingi feel more like himself. Already drowsy, he dried himself off and made sure his hair was dried completely before he made his way to his room. Once Mingi had curled up in his bed, he was out like a light in minutes.

The dorm was completely quiet when the group returned, which wasn’t very surprising. Yunho was glad his friend stuck to their agreement and was resting but everything in him screamed to let the younger sleep. He knew he couldn’t do that though, so he quietly slipped into Mingi’s room, smiling at how peaceful the other was sleeping. The past few days, Mingi had always been tangled in his sheets from the restless tossing and turning in his sleep, so seeing he was actually getting a good rest, Yunho bit his lip. He couldn’t wake the other now. Not when he was sleeping so well. He knew Mingi would be upset if he didn’t though, so the older hesitantly reached out his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers against his friend’s forehead. ‘Still feverish’, Yunho realized with a wince. He smiled softly when Mingi’s eyes fluttered open, glossy with fever. “H-Hyung”, the rapper yawned, stretching his sore shoulders for a moment. Yunho hummed: “Yeah, we’re back and I’m glad you actually slept even though I don’t know how long.”

They chatted for a while and Mingi was happy to have some real face-to-face interaction again, Yunho passing up his turn showering to be with his friend instead. Once all the members had showered though, the dancer whispered: “I should probably take a shower now but if you want, I’ll come back afterwards and sit with you for a bit.” He knew Mingi was probably feeling lonely but didn’t want to address it. His worry was confirmed when the younger’s eyes turned sad as he gave a nod. “I won’t be long”, Yunho promised, hurrying to his room to grab some clothes.

Mingi didn’t want to be alone though and now that he knew his entire group was at the dorm, he quickly threw off his blanket. Getting to his feet, he was hit by a dizzy spell and had to steady himself against the wall for a moment before wandering out into the hallway. He heard laughter from the room Yeosang, Wooyoung and Jongho shared, already knowing where he’d go. Before Mingi got there though, Seonghwa ran into him. Though both of them startled, the oldest was quick to steady Mingi by the shoulders, afraid he’d knock him over. “It’s good to see you up”, Seonghwa smiled, brushing his dongsaeng’s hair out of his face to feel his forehead, “That’s fever’s really not budging, huh?” Mingi shook his head, clearing his throat. With his voice even huskier from not using it in a while, he rasped: “Not really, took some medicine but it only helps for a short time.” He gave a scratchy cough after that, frustrated with his body. “Aw, that sucks”, Seonghwa hummed sympathetically, “Were you at least able to rest with that cough?” Mingi nodded, admitting quietly: “I was mainly really bored while the medicine worked and when it didn’t, I slept. It sounds like they’re playing video games, so I thought I’d go bother them for a bit before going back to sleep.” He glanced towards his fellow maknaes’ room, making Seonghwa laugh.

After lightly tapping the door, Mingi slipped into the room and pouted at San, who had made himself at home on Wooyoung’s bed. With two members already sitting there, Mingi decided that Jongho would be the next best target, afraid he wasn’t close enough with Yeosang to bother him. The youngest shot Mingi a smile when the rapper plopped down next to him. “Long time no see”, Wooyoung teased, earning a scolding from Yeosang. Lowering his controller, San hummed: “He’s not wrong. How’re you feeling?” – “Mainly, I’m bored”, Mingi pouted, leaning into Jongho’s side. The younger in turn reached up to feel his forehead, commenting: “Bored and still feverish. Shouldn’t you be in bed, hyung?” – “I am in bed”, the rapper pointed out making San and Wooyoung laugh. “Sleeping, I mean”, Jongho specified, rolling his eyes. Pulling his legs up to his chest, Mingi huffed: “What do you think I’ve been doing?” A shiver ran down his spine and he scooted a little closer to his dongsaeng. ‘As long as he’s still bickering he can’t be feeling that bad’, Yeosang chuckled, grabbing a fluffy blanket from the foot of his bed and throwing it at Mingi.

A few minutes after Mingi had gotten comfortable next to Jongho, the door opened and Seonghwa slipped into the room. He placed a steaming cup of tea onto Jongho’s nightstand before telling the boys goodnight and heading to bed. Closing his eyes, Mingi rested his head on Jongho’s shoulder, too tired to look at the TV, just glad not to be alone. Though the youngest was not that happy about the rapper sniffling right next to his ear, he didn’t comment on it. Yunho would most likely come and drag Mingi back to his own room anyway. It was kind of cute though that Mingi sought out their company while he wasn’t feeling his best as they would’ve expected him to withdraw completely, wanting to be alone.

“You should drink your tea before Yunho-hyung comes looking for you”, Jongho whispered, amused by how protective the dancer got when it came to Mingi. Knowing the maknae was right, Mingi accepted the cup and slowly sipped his tea, a tired smile on his lips now that he was surrounded by his group again. It only took five more minutes for the door to creak open, Yunho frowning: “You know where Mingi went?” – “No idea”, Wooyoung muttered, the others cracking up. “Here”, Mingi yawned, lowering his cup. Rolling his eyes, the older scolded: “I really didn’t take long, so what are you doing here?” – “Drinking tea, being comfy, annoying our maknae, I dunno, pick one”, the rapper shrugged. Leaning against the door frame, Yunho sighed: “Seriously?” When he got no reply, he announced: “In that case, I’ll be heading to bed now. Good night, guys.” – “Nooo, hyung, wait!”, Mingi pleaded, “You promised you’d hang out with me after taking a shower.” – “Well, seems I’ve been replaced”, the older shrugged, turning his back. Barely able to get up fast enough, Mingi rushed after him, making the others laugh. “Come on, let’s go cuddle”, Yunho chuckled, wrapping his arm around his friend’s shoulders as he guided him back to his room. Pouting at the dancer, Minhi whispered: “You know I could never replace you, hyung.”

#fanfic #fluff #comfort #fanfiction #sick #sickfic #ateez #atiny #sicktember2023 #sicktember 2023 #yungi

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calamity-aims · 2 years

Note

so fox. and hurting him.

I think fox is one of those people who gets sick and just doesn't tell anyone about it. waits until it's "bad enough" but by the time it's "bad enough" he's like collapsed in the hallway or something. and I hear you say fox and walking pneumonia and I demand to know more.

Fox's baseline health, he's been told, is "piss poor at best". There's nothing he can do about it, though, unless someone can tell the Coruscant Security Force and the Senate Guard to stop shoving duties to the Corries, and tell the Senators to stop using Corries as their personal valets while they're at it.

Someone can, of course, but it'll be a beach day on Kamino before Palpatine lifts a finger to help the Corries. Fox does so much of the man's Senate paperwork that he could probably be a Senator of Naboo himself.

So the reality of the situation is that when Fox gets sick, he's just - sick. That's just the way it is.

He doesn't feel that bad, anyway. Just a little muscle fatigue and a persistent cough. It's almost a blessing - the cough only comes at night, accompanied by chills where Fox can't ever get warm, but hey. At least he can make it through his shifts.

"Walking pneumonia," Hedge pronounces. Fox just hears the "walking" part of that and proceeds to get out of the medbay as fast as possible. There's so much work, stacks and stacks of data forms and a prisoner intake this afternoon and he needs to take a patrol shift with the shinies and show them how to not die and the Chancellor wants to see him--

"Commander!" Hedge yells at Fox's retreating back. "You need a week of rest, in order for to recover fully!"

"Nope! It's walking pneumonia, it's not bad enough to bother with, and I am walking away."

"It's just gonna get worse," Hedge mutters darkly. Fox pretends not to hear.

It gets worse.

He tries not to show it, but he's so tired. When no one's around Fox walks the hallways with one shoulder pressed to the wall, because it feels like he'll keel over if he doesn't. He can't keep anything down, and he's just so cold. The cough gets worse too, easily hidden by his helmet speakers.

He coughs too much at night, but Thorn and Thire and Stone are all so tired they sleep right through it. They've had to pick up so much of Fox's slack. He just can't justify them having to pick up even more by going on light duty or even bedrest.

They don't notice, but that's not their fault.

The Chancellor does, though.

"Commander, are you feeling quite all right?"

Fox sways where he stands, just slightly. It's been a long meeting. Palpatine is heading back to Naboo for a tenday, and he's gone through every single thing he wants Fox to complete before he returns.

It's - a lot. He'll get it done somehow.

"Commander?"

Fox starts. "Apologies, Chancellor. What were you saying?"

Palpatine tilts his head. His bright blue eyes bore right through Fox's visor. "I said, are you feeling quite all right?"

"Yessir. Thank you, sir," Fox says, and tries to stand taller. It's hard when he's so dizzy - maybe he should've eaten breakfast, but he's just been so nauseous lately.

"Good. I know there's a bug going around, but the Kaminoans assured the Senate that their clone troops were resistant to most disease. I would hate for there to be a flaw in the quality of their product!" Palpatine says with a little laugh.

"Yessir," Fox says. Shit. Palpatine has done a "product return" once before, early on in the war when Fox hadn't quite learned the intricacies of Senate politics. 200 shinies, all sent back and reconditioned.

Never again.

"Dismissed," smiles Palpatine, and Fox nods gratefully.

He even makes it to the elevator before collapsing completely.

Fox comes back around to the lurching feeling of movement.

"Wha'?" he slurs. His legs aren't moving, but he's definitely traveling. He watches the floor tiles pass underneath him. There's boots on either side.

"Hey, Fox," someone says. Fox attempts to flop his head around to see.

"We got you," Thorn says, and tries to smile.

There's a snort from Fox's other side. "Idiot," rasps Stone in his soft scratchy voice. "But he's gone for a week. You're gonna rest, and we'll take care of it, Fox."

"Thire's going to slice into the records, too. No one will even know you're out," Thorn says reassuringly.

They're the best. His men, they're just - they -

Fox tries to say thank you and coughs his way through it, shaking in Stone and Thorn's arms.

"It's ok," soothes Thorn. "Go to sleep. We got you."

#hiii mikey hope you like <3 #calamity writing #commander fox #commander thorn #commander stone #sheev palpatine

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adelle-ein · 6 months

Text

rambling about the ocd

so yeah yesterday not only did my ocd therapist tell me i have the highest ocd score she's ever seen (and like, she is not a new or inexperienced practitioner by any means) she told me that apparently a lot of my thought and behavior patterns are obsessive-compulsive. and a lot of them tie back to really extreme morality ocd, which actually explains a lot about the ways i've acted my entire life that were just brushed off as weird/quirky/generically anxious. even my other ocd "types" (contamination, etc) are all manifestations of severe morality ocd (i fear various forms of contamination because it makes me immoral, essentially) (that's fun).

i really didn't think it was that bad. i didn't think it was especially bad at all, truth be told, just one of the many diagnoses that make up my weirdness. but actually it's probably been the root cause for everything all along, including stuff i dismissed as just my own weirdness, like the extreme sensory processing stuff that's developed lately (fwiw i bought some new water bottles and significantly improved my hydration so working towards recovery on that). but since i don't have any compulsions that cause myself visible physical harm i didn't think it could be Real ocd. like i don't handwash to a dangerous level or self harm or starve myself, so i thought it was okay (nvm that i have caused myself extreme and permanent-feeling mental damage lol)

i've been perpetually exhausted, 24/7, since i was fourteen. because my brain's been at constant war with itself and still is and inhibits everything i do. because every single action i take is like moving through a molasses of obsessive thoughts and finishing compulsive rituals. my self esteem is somewhere in the marianas trench bc i feel like i'm constantly violating moral norms 24/7. the drugs that allow me even basic function worsen the fatigue and the brain fog and the weakness, but i need them or i literally can't stop doing compulsions. like if they stop making it or something i would need 24/7 care from my parents again bc i wouldn't be able to feed myself or shower or sleep.

i had been wondering a lot the last couple of years if i was autistic, especially with the sensory stuff, but it's now dawning on me that i just have the absolute worst fucking ocd that manifests itself in literally every aspect of my behavior and thought patterns. it looks very autistic on a surface level and gets me a high raads-r score, but probably isn't. like i could still be autistic, sure, but it's most likely that i just have incredibly severe ocd with every "less common" side effect known to man - sensory issues, routine and planning, social anxiety, stimming, etc etc. i did know that ocd/autism/adhd symptom overlap is huge but not that it was this huge.

none of this really changes anything, like i still need treatment, she's still gonna see me, but like, fucking hell. even i had been downplaying how sick i was, and probably still am, like even now i'm like well it can't be THAT bad i'm not dead :) but it is that bad. it's insanely bad. it's far worse than the "well everyone's kinda anxious and depressed right?" standard i keep tricking myself into believing i am. even now i'm STILL fucking questioning it bc i see people with ocd who seem so much worse than me but really i think that's more about what people are willing to put on the internet....i do not share my worst obsessions and compulsions generally and even when speaking privately to people i still downplay things heavily, i just can't do it. i'm extremely good at masking and hiding and downplaying because i've been doing it my whole life and a lot of my compulsive behaviors look pretty normal from the outside...but they're still very bad and the obsession levels are out of control high. and i've been doing so badly lately that i've had to step back from social media a lot because literally everything is a severe trigger at this point, from fandom drama to serious political stuff, because i get caught in a severe mental morality feedback loop every time i see something that can trigger it which is now a lot of things. but the stepping back also triggers a morality loop wheeeeeee (i see a ukraine flag emoji and have to sit there processing extremely distressing Moral Thoughts about ukraine and the war, for like...a while. to give you an idea of how severe it's gotten and why i've absolutely had to go quiet and careful with how i interact with pretty much everything, esp online where extreme positions are really common. i'm also really prone to picking up other people's anxieties and compulsions rn so again have to be SUPER careful what i look at - a tumblr poll about cleaning habits or similar can trigger compulsive behavior...)

it would be super cool if the ssa had cared about any of this but that ship's long sailed and they don't believe in or speak with therapists anyway (at least not in my state, they refused to even contact my therapist for the review they kicked me out over. even MD mental health practitioners aren't really exempt, they treated my psychiatrist incredibly rudely...)

but yeah no wonder i'm so dysfunctional and struggling so badly if i'm this abnormally ill ig

#this isn't very coherent i'm just...processing #txt #lacevent

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dumbass-tumbler-cryptid · 8 months

Note

I'm totally looking forward to the new chapters. Can you give us some snippet? (I feel like a beggar asking this 💀)

Lol don't feel like a beggar. I'm getting super eager to share the story already even though I'm not close to being done. I think that's why I posted two snippets completely unprompted this week.

I'll do you one better. I'll give you two snippets. In scenario one I actually have a lot of build up before the Quaritch family vacation even takes place detailing Spiders attempts to escape through the years. I tell the whole attempt from Spiders perspective and then go back and retell that whole event from Quaritch's perspective (and I'm low key worried that'll get tedious to read but I spent to much time writing it to edit it down)

So here's a taste of that

***************************************************************

Miles jolted awake, the happiness he’d felt in his dream, instantly being replaced by sinking dread. The nightmares had started shortly after his two year anniversary in the cabin, increasing in frequency as the days went by. He only classified these dreams as nightmares because of the anxiety they spiked in his waking life. If Pa knew that he was reminiscing about the old days…..

Things had been so good between them too. Miles could almost pretend like they were a regular father and son, spending their summer on a camping trip, hunting in the woods, fishing, having bonfires, and sleeping under the stars when the weather allowed for it. It had all been so normal. So easy. Of course his treacherous brain would have to mess that all up.

The following morning Miles attempted to eat breakfast, his chin propped on his elbow, holding up his head as he struggled to stay awake. Pa’s calased hand reached out from behind him, carding through his hair, giving him affectionate scratches behind his ear. “You haven’t been sleeping well lately have you?” Miles simply nodded his head. “Something on your mind?” The question made his heart skip a beat but he forced it down, shaking his head no. “Is your room too stuffy then? We can sleep outside tonight if you want. You always like that.”

“I’m fine Pa.” his voice came out low, heavy with fatigue.

“Mmhm.” The man didn’t buy it, but didn’t continue pushing the subject. “Take a nap after you eat. Your school work and chores aren’t goin’ anywhere.” Neither am I, he thought bitterly. “Thanks Pa. I’ll do that.”

********************************************************************

It was peak autumn when Miles Sr first noticed the vivid dreams his son would have. The boy talked in his sleep, smiling from ear to ear, mumbling their names. The names of that damn Sully family. He couldn’t understand why his boy seemed so hung up on them. From everything he had seen, from all the memories he heard play out in Junior’s sleep, the Sully’s hadn’t been that special. His boy had had fun, sure. The Sully’s hadn’t been very strict with him, allowing Junior to do almost anything he wanted. Any teenager would enjoy that. That wasn’t love though. Love is protecting the ones you care for, keeping them safe, taking care of them. He did that. So how could his son still miss them so much?

During waking hours Miles Sr watched his son like a hawk. Miles Jr looked so tired and sad, growing more despondent by the day. The father noted how his boy was eating less. How he was tired all day no matter how early his father sent him to bed. Junior wouldn’t even skateboard, or draw. He just seemed so weighted by his own misery. Miles Sr needed to help him snap out of it.

It was another lethargic morning after another sleepless night. Junior sat at the table, fork in one hand, his head held up by the other, falling asleep into his bacon and eggs. The father couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. A thin line of drool was escaping his boy’s mouth. His hair was starting to get on the long side again, wildly sticking out around his head like the soft hide of a lamb. His boy would have cringed to know how cute he looked in that moment, but Miles Sr couldn’t help but appreciate his own work.

He reached out his hand and began to pet Junior’s hair, feeling his curls slip and twist around his fingers. The sleepy boy leaned into the touch, getting comforting scratches behind the ear in response. Junior deeply sighed out his nose, seemingly content. “You haven’t been sleeping well lately have you?” Miles Sr asked. Junior simply nodded. “Something on your mind?” He knew the answer was yes and hoped his boy would just admit it. Instead Junior slightly hesitated before shaking his head no. So disappointing. “Is your room too stuffy then? We can sleep outside tonight if you want. You always like that.”

“I’m fine Pa.” Liar.

Junior looked so incredibly tired that if he didn’t get some sleep soon he might just collapse from exhaustion. Hopefully with some rest, his son would start thinking clearly and just admit he had a problem. “Take a nap after you eat. Your school work and chores aren’t goin’ anywhere.” His son sighed again, seeming so defeated.“Thanks Pa. I’ll do that.”

#cabin in the woods #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch

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catanisgorgeous · 1 year

Text

A Very Catty Excuse

Characters: Satan (Shall We Date: Obey Me!), gender-neutral MC (only pronoun used is "you").

Tags: Fluff, (Maybe?) Confessions, lots of kitten playtime^^

For context: You had helped Satan prank Lucifer at breakfast (again) and was subtly kicked out for the day. You didn't feel confident enough going back even as night fell, until your favourite came along to help. Self-reliant MCs for the win, so MC here works evening shifts at Ristorante Six ✨

A/N: Hi there, demons and humans and angels and reapers~ This isn't my first time writing but it sure is my first post so I hope you'll like it! Do drop a like if you do 💚

Ding! The door to Ristorante Six slipped shut, leaving the little old bell swinging and ringing. Tired from an evening of relentless orders, you slumped onto your chair with a sigh.

On any other day you would be cosily asleep by now. But you weren’t feeling too confident about returning today after that scary morning… Turns out, working out a proper prank on Lucifer called for more mental strength than you'll ever have. There was no way you were going to face the demon right now, at least not alone.

And here you are now, hoping for a brother to drop by to walk you home, having hesitated so long that it was beyond dark outside. Pulled a prank on him first thing in the morning, then stayed out late, returned only next morning… Lucifer will definitely not be pleased.

“Great,” you sighed again. “Just great.”

You had almost dozed off when you heard the fourth’s voice vibrating from your D.D.D. “MC, are you awake?”

This rascal! Of course I am, you dolt, do you even REALISE I’m not at home? Was nobody even looking for you? You swipe open the chat to find Satan typing. Meet him outside the gate? Maybe he did know you weren’t home.

“I’ll go!” you texted back, fatigue fading to let excitement take over. Was he actually asking you out? Sure, it was unnervingly late at night but it was to the cat park — how cuter could he get?

Satan: I'll be waiting at the front gate, so hurry up.

You: Why did you invite me?

You couldn’t help but ask: it wasn’t often he asked you out like this... Besides, knowing his sentimental and eloquent speech, you were curious. How would he respond? A sweet “I think my cats would feel just as comfortable with you as I do.” Or maybe a shy “I don’t know… I just wanted you to come with me. Must there be a solid reason?” Oh, the different possiblities that buzzed through your head… until––

Satan: I wanted someone to carry these cat toys for me.

It’s quite embarrassing to be seen holding these little mouse-shaped things.

…Really? He can’t be serious...

And yet now you stand beside this weirdly tall tree, watching him lay out a picnic mat of cat food. All self-esteem had been laid aside for the night. At least he HAD called you outside, whereas the rest of them had forgotten her existence.

Just maybe he had simply been too embarrassed to say anything sweet. Just maybe the cat toys were an excuse.

Either way, now you won’t be sleeping on demon-lurking streets tonight. Seeing the number of kitten litters, you wondered if you’d get any sleep at all. It was rare to come across such a serene area full of nature and peace. Maybe Satan had created or modified this place just for his children. Yes, he insisted that you do not refer to them as mere thoughtless creatures. Whatever that meant.

“MC, I doubt you can stand there all night,” he called, patting a patch of grass underneath the tree, somewhere close to where he sat beside the cats.

You nodded and sat down, crossing your legs underneath and grinning wide when a fluffy white ragdoll leapt onto your lap. “Hello there,” you mumbled, scratching behind its ear with one hand and rubbing its belly with the other.

Satan blinked, watching in silence for a while. “Didn’t realise you were a cat magnet too.”

“Oh, I’m not, just generally nice to them,” you smiled at the kitten’s purr. “I’ve had a pet or two before. One pup and two cats.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“You mean chaotic,” you laughed, shaking your head and pulling the kitten closer. It rolled over, paws outstretched and laid softly against your tummy, letting out a slow, sleepy burp. “Somebody’s eaten too much.”

The demon cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him. “So, care to explain why you were out this late? All alone?”

You felt your shoulders tense, bit the inside of your cheek.

“Surely it wasn’t because of Lucifer?”

“It’s his house, I wondered if he might just kick me out. Or lock me up,” you shuddered, not knowing which was worse where the oldest was involved. “Besides, I’m an outsider, unlike you, so of course he’d be furious. Didn’t wanna face him…”

Satan watched your piteous expression for a while before scoffing, “He’s too old to hold grudges; he’ll have moved on by breakfast tomorrow.”

You nodded distractedly, relieved the fourth was here to walk you home when morning came. As though sensing your tension, the kitten stirred, rolling closer to your tummy. “Aren’t you the cutest thing,” you scratched her chin, listening to the purrs drifting off.

“She likes you,” Satan smiled. An actual smile, one that caught your breath at the way his eyes twinkled. A thought flashes through your head: Maybe the cat toys really were an excuse.

“You think?” You grin.

He gazes back at you, shrugs with a smirk. “She’s not the only one.”

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me satan #obey me fluff #satan x mc #satan x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me x gender neutral reader #gender neutral mc #obey me x reader

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the-himawari · 1 year

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A3! Troupe Event Translation - Sunny Blanc (6/11)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Hisoka: …

Guy: Here you are, Mikage. Are you sleeping?

Hisoka: …I’m awake. Were you looking for me?

Guy: It is about time to go to work, so I thought I would just let you know. Director told me you might be here.

Hisoka: …I’ll come too.

Guy: You look a little pale. You should take today off.

Hisoka: I’m not feeling unwell. It’s just… I’ve been remembering a lot about the past lately.

Guy: You did say you dreamed about your family in our previous meeting.

Hisoka: Yeah… I keep having those dreams.

Guy: Your mind or your heart may be growing fatigued from recollecting so many things all of a sudden. I have experienced that as well. You should take it easy and rest today.

Hisoka: …Alright, I’ll do that. Thanks.

Guy: Sure. Goodnight.

Hisoka: … (It’s the usual scent of Guy’s incense…)

*flashback starts*

Hisoka: (I’m so hungry… I’m about to collapse…) —. (What’s that? This smell…) (It’s that stall… there’s a smoky scent coming from that stick… I’ve never smelled this scent before, but it feels calming…)

Shop clerk: Oi, you’re not planning to steal anything, are ya? You’ll regret it if you try somethin’ funny.

Hisoka: …I’m not going to steal.

Shop clerk: I don’t have anything to sell to a kid like you. You’re gettin’ in the way of business. Get lost.

Hisoka: …

*flashback ends*

Hisoka: (I remembered something awful… It would’ve been better if that was left forgotten.) (That stick was definitely an incense… I had no idea back then though.) … (I wish I went to the bar with Guy rather than staying here alone…)

Azuma: Ah, here you are.

Hisoka: …Azuma? Why are you here?

Azuma: Guy told me to come check up on you. And it looks like coming was the right answer. Were you feeling lonely by yourself?

Hisoka: …

Azuma: Your expression looks like you couldn’t sleep, which is rare. Would you like to use my lap as a pillow?

Hisoka: …Sure.

Azuma: My, my, you’re acting like a child.

Hisoka: (It’s warm… I think I can fall asleep like this…)

Azuma: Rest well.

-pause-

Tsumugi: I wonder if Hisoka-kun will be alright.

Tasuku: Mikage, huh…

Tsumugi: I thought he cheered up after going to the World Market. But I feel like he’s been getting more depressed.

Tasuku: …And how are you?

Tsumugi: Eh?

Tasuku: You’ve been acting kind of weird ever since your grandma recovered, you know? Everyone’s noticed.

Tsumugi: Ahh, you did, huh…? I kind of thought you might be aware of it. But it’s a matter of my own feelings, so it felt a little embarrassing to talk about.

Tasuku: But it’s hard to sort your feelings out alone, isn’t it? There are times when talking to someone about it can clear things up.

Tsumugi: That’s true. …Back at home, grandma and I were chatting about the past while looking at an album together. But when I brought up the time we went to a flower garden when I was a kid, she didn’t know what I was talking about…

Tausku: A flower garden?

Tsumugi: Yes. It was quite a long time ago when I was around 6 or 7 years old. Though, I don’t even remember all the details myself, so I have no right to feel lonely.

Tasuku: … Hold on for a second.

Tsumugi: ?

Tasuku: It should be here… there it is. Here, look.

Tsumugi: A bookmark… with a picture of a peony? —.

*flashback starts*

Tsumugi: Wooow, amazing! It’s like a carpet of flowers!

Tsumugi’s grandmother: Yes, it’s wonderful that they happen to be in full bloom. It would have been nice if your mother and father could have joined us. But that will wait for next time.

Tsumugi: Grandma, the peonies are so pretty!

Tsumugi’s grandmother: Aren’t they? I wanted to see the peonies here, even if just once. I’m glad I was able to come here with you, Tsumu-chan.

Tsumugi: Let’s come again for sure!

Tsumugi’s grandmother: Of course. It’s a bit far, so perhaps once you’ve gotten a little older.

*flashback ends*

Tasuku: Isn’t this the flower garden that the two of you visited? “Flower Park” is the name written on the back of the bookmark.

Tsumugi: —. That’s right… grandma said mom and dad were busy, so she took me there by herself on her day off…

Tasuku: Did you not buy a souvenir for yourself?

Tsumugi: I’m not sure… Maybe I didn’t purchase anything tangible. Just one thing can make all your memories come rushing back, huh?

Tasuku: Glad to hear that.

Tsumugi: In any case, you had such an old souvenir on hand?

Tasuku: I happened come across it when I was sorting through my stuff back home.

Tsumugi: I see, the errand you had to run at home was organizing your things?

Tasuku: I was in a rush since they told me they were about to send off the remaining half of my stuff they sent off before. The bookmark was stuck in one of my old scripts If I had casually shoved it into a textbook or something, then it would’ve been thrown away.

Tsumugi: Fufu, I see. I’m glad it was in a script. …Perhaps if I go there and take another picture, grandma will remember too.

Tasuku: I’m sure it’ll come back to her with some sort of trigger. I mean, you remembered with a bookmark, after all.

Tsumugi: Let’s go and take a look at the peonies again some time. (That reminds me, it seems Hisoka-kun has some sort of attachment to peonies too…)

---

previous | next

#a3!#a3! translation #mikage hisoka #act! addict! actors!

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dennydraws · 3 months

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Good Morning and happy Mon- wait it's Tuesday!

Argh, I got lost in time again! It's another week and back to the grind! Why weekends can't be longer...

Whew, youtubing is getting slightly easier! But now I struggle with the phone camera. I keep trying different settings and at the end the weird wiggle still persists. But for now I just want to get more comfy with the drawing process while recording cause that alone can be a little uncomfy hehe I guess it's the whole selfconcious that you are being recorded XD but with that said, I ran out of energy to record a voice over last weekend while fighting a terrible migraine on Sunday. I thought to leave it for the next weekend instead of pushing myself but if I get burst of energy earlier, I will post it through the week :D

Comic work! Thank you for following "The Snake, The Firebrand and The King of All" !! ... that title sure is a mouthful, huh xD; The next chapter will be a bit late, likely next monday? I did outline it, I had to start sketching the pages on Sunday but I felt so incredibly tired, I spent most of the day just sleeping. I think work fatigue piled on me once more. We have a lot of holidays in February and of course a lot of graphics for those. I've been coming home with nothing but brain fog, static noise and desire to sleep forever. u_u;; But at least chapter 11 is fully sketched and I quite liked the flow of it! It is a bit more complex but maybe I can line art it little by little through the week rather than all at once in the weekend. I'll see! I'm pass the mid point and into the fluff now! +o+ I didn't think I'd go this far for something I didn't incredibly prepared for!

I've been playing Fire Emblem Heroes on the side... while waiting for other games to come out this year - looking at Eiyuden 👀! I will likely drop off the earth till I finish it, when it comes out, hehe ! :D But yes! FE! I'm long time fan though I hadn't played anything after Awakening, so more of a fan of the old ones? I couldn't invest the time and energy to pick 3 Houses purely because there was no golden ending of everyone lives and is happy - I'm too old for that sad shite, okay? u_u;;; Fates... we don't talk about Fates and Engage felt like the vtuber nation attacked. I couldn't get pass the character designs so I never touched it. The mobile game is fun and I just mainly picked it so I could grab some faves and pamper them! Lucky for me my faves have like no alts and were easy to pick :D;;; ...so I guess my taste is that bad, huh 8D;; It's ok Gangrel, I still think you are the best Trash King!

But yes~ I'm swamped at work, my hands are giving in, I can't wait for the weather to get warmer and I can't wait for Eiyuden to come out! \o/ Until then, I try to survive xD;; but don't we all? Apologies for not posting much...or anything lately. Work has just been soul crushing crunch as usual when several big holidays come in 1 month.

In any case ~ Thank you for stopping by and I hope you have great rest of the week! \o/!!

#Good Morning!#Denny rambles about her week :D;; work?#journal post!

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justcaytlin · 1 year

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How It's Going

So I figured it would be worthwhile to talk a bit about all the procedures and stuff I've been undergoing. Keep y'all in the loop, as t'were.

Background

To start, the reason I've been in and out of doctors so much lately is that I have fibromyalgia, which means my nervous system thinks every stimulus should be reported with Pain. Are you excited? Pain. Cold? Pain. Tired? Pain. Digesting? Pain! And it's always pain in weird areas. Did you use your wrist too much while you were drawing? Enjoy your left foot hurting, buddy. Or your knee. Or your temple. Quite literally, I did not know that people could be Not In Pain until a conversation with my husband a few years ago.

(Note: Fibromyalgia is not a disease so much as a bucket of symptoms with a variety of causes. One person's fibro may be very different from another's; this is how mine works.)

Generally, after years of hunting down med combos and enforcing lifestyle changes (regular sleep schedule, eating well, maintaining a schedule, etc) I had been sitting at a respectable 4/10 pain scale day-to-day, which is pretty mild all things considered.

Pain is easy to deal with. Unfortunately, fibromyalgia also comes with brainfog, where you can't remember things, and everything slips your mind constantly, and you feel like a sieve and you constantly worry you have early onset dementia. It also comes with chronic fatigue, much like when you have the flu. So you get up to do something and it feels like all of the energy drains out of your muscles and you feel heavy and slow and like you want to lay down just to get enough energy to move again.

As an example, showering has been very hard on me. Usually after a shower -- a quick shower! Or even when using my shower stool! -- I am shaking and weak for up to an hour afterwards.

Reason for Going

In the last six months or so, both the brainfog and the fatigue were getting increasingly bad, so that I could barely do anything at all. I was falling behind on a lot of work-related things, I couldn't help my husband with chores or food prep hardly at all, I couldn't even deal with the energy sap of seeing people very often.

Finally, my friend was going to a research institute nearby for Ketamine-Assisted Psychotherapy. And I thought, man, I've been wanting to try ketamine treatment for years. I've heard it works wonders on chronic pain. I should try it.

So I did a lot of research, and I dove in.

Phase 1

I contacted the institute about their ketamine infusion therapy, which is geared toward chronic pain relief. Ketamine's underlying functions are still not completely understood, but in layman's terms, it seems to give the nervous system a chance to reset and relax, undoing a lot of that sensitivity that makes fibro so hard. This sounded amazing and like it's exactly what I need.

So I went through several intake and screening appointments. I was approved, but both doctors recommended that I was a perfect candidate for KAP -- Ketamine-Assisted Psychotherapy. After all, my fibro is almost guaranteed to have come from trauma: when your flight system is active 24/7 for almost a decade, it makes some fundamental changes to the wiring. Plus, I've been diving deep in therapy for the last couple of years, and it's helped a bit on the pain side as well.

But I wasn't certain the ketamine would work on me -- there's never a guarantee -- so I wanted to stick with what I signed up for, for now.

I went in for my appointment, got the IV in, laid down, and was whisked away into a nice little trip for an hour and a half or so. Sounds smeared together. I felt out of my body, yet in it. Time smeared and collapsed in on itself. I felt disrupted, but gently and kindly, taken away into another timeline. I saw lots of shapes and patterns -- subtly, on the back of the eyelids.

I went home after that, and I rested. And the next day, my pain was reduced. It felt like there was a little bit of a cushion between the pain and my senses. My energy was back! I went from "maybe I can stand long enough to cut up a tomato for dinner, I'm not sure" to "okay I've cleaned two rooms, we should be good for guests now." I wasn't 100% by any means. I still fatigue early in tasks, I still felt pain. But it's like the clock turned back months or even years. Holy shit!

Phase 2

I decided that if I was going to do this, I was going to go all in. Therapy had worked wonders before; I was gonna switch to KAP like they suggested. The doctor also suggested I try a Stellate Ganglion Block, wherein they bathe your nerves with anesthetic, which gives your sympathetic nervous system a *direct* vacation. I signed up for that too.

Unfortunately, switching to KAP meant that I needed to undergo more screenings and intakes. And the Ganglion Block also required more screenings and intakes. So my actual healing journey was put on hold for two weeks as I attended more doctor appointments.

Finally, I was able to do my first KAP appointment. You basically go into an office and get set up in a reclining chair full of blankets and pillows. They give you a special eyemask that is raised, so you can keep your eyes open if you want, but it'll be completely blacked out. You wear headphones with music playing. The doctor/therapist stays in the room with you, and if you happen to say anything during your trip, they record it. But otherwise the purpose is just you laying back and letting the medicine do its work. A nurse comes in and administers the ketamine -- for KAP it's intramuscular injection instead of IV. And then in 2-5 minutes, you'll take off. I think for me it was 1-2 minutes.

Ketamine is weird, man. The main *feeling* I take away each time is that I've jumped timelines. The person I was going in is not the same person coming out. It's always a benign feeling (so far?) but it takes you so completely out of your body, your self. Who you are dissolves for a while. It's wild. There's a big chunk of time I don't remember, and then I remember wondering who I was, what I was, what I was doing, where I was. Not fearfully, just, "huh, I should probably know this, huh". Then there was a lot of beautiful imagery of dancing in nature, vibing to the music, twirling in leaves and on lakes. Lots of imagery that is, like, hand-picked to be something I'd paint from scratch. There was some spiritual stuff too, but that's personal.

After a while, I was a tree. I had this feeling that even though part of me had rotted (the good kind of rot, somehow), I was providing lots of ecosystems for others. There was this overwhelming feeling of even though there may not be a reason for something (having fibro), we can still find meaning in it. That was valuable.

The other feeling that's still echoing through me right now is the feeling of being a seed. Like, I'm currently in incubation. There's a transformation coming but right now I'm storing all of my energy and taking in the change.

As I started coming out of it, there were two amusing things.

I could still feel parts of my body as being a tree. I was fully cognizant at this point that I was me, on ketamine, in a doctor's chair, but I was waiting out the rest of my body feeling like My Body again. Like, okay, my body ends at the elbow there, but the rest is branches. Better wait til I feel my fingers again.

I was wondering what I was supposed to do when I came around? We hadn't discussed this. Do I say something? Do I pull off my mask? Do I make a grand announcement? What if I just lay here for hours and avoid this confrontation entirely? What if I was under way longer than anyone else? #social anxiety lol What I ultimately did was I listened to the music and visualized things until it felt like the "soundtrack" was winding down and I could pick out a "credits" song. When the credits song ended, I made myself pull off my mask, and the doctor greeted me.

(One good thing about therapy, medication, and experience with social anxiety is you can feel those thoughts, but also go 'bro it'll be fine lol' and your system largely believes you.)

Anyway, after, the doctor asked me some questions about how I was feeling, what I saw or felt or experienced, etc. She took notes, then let me lay there alone for about twenty minutes to come more fully back to myself. Then she helped me waddle to the bathroom (ketamine messes with your inner ear like crazy) and took me downstairs to meet up with my friend for the ride home.

A week later, I had another appointment with the doctor to integrate everything, talk about everything I experienced or said in the sober light of day.

Phase 3

After that, I got the first Stellate Ganglion Block done. It's done in two phases, your right side and your left side. I wrote about this experience already, but I will say now, a week out from it, that this was a fucking miracle. The KAP and the IV helped a lot with energy and such but the block took my ambient pain from like a 3 to a 1-2. I genuinely wonder if this is what normal people feel like most of the time?

I can tell there's a difference between my right side (that had it done) and the left side (which hasn't been done yet). The left is far more sensitive. But, for example, my sciatic nerves are extremely sensitive to the touch, and generally if I press on them a little bit, I will legit want to cry. (I have very high pain tolerance; i would call pushing on them like an 8.5 on the scale, where 10 is when I was at the hospital for a kidney stone, screaming and crying and thrashing while I was waiting for pain meds :') )

They still hurt, but my right one is more like a 6 instead! That's HUGE. That means I can actually tolerate it long enough to roll out my nerve with the foam roller.

I'm getting my second block done tomorrow. I can't wait to see how it feels after.

Phase 4

After this week, my appointments should slow down a lot. My KAP appointments are two weeks apart, to give ample time to reflect and integrate and let my malleable brain resolidify. The downside is this is slower than I expected -- I thought it would be 1 a week -- and so I'm not positive I'll be back off hiatus on my birthday. It depends on how the next week or so goes.

Right now, I've just been hanging onto the bumper of a car speeding down Appointments Highway and I have barely had time to gather my energy enough to think about much else (besides D&D apparently lmao). By the time I'm done with KAP I will have knocked out some 20 appointments or so in a month and a half. Considering in the past I had to restrict doc appointments to 1/week due to how exhausting and hard they are for me, That Is A Lot.

But they're doing me some good. I'm incubating. I'm percolating. And soon I will sprout.

#ketamine #drugs #ketamine assisted therapy #fibromyalgia #chronic pain #chronic illness #integrative medicine #cayt speaks

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softguarnere · 1 year

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Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 12: While We Can

Summary: He keeps his eyes firmly on the changing sky above them as he mutters the order. “I ain’t gonna lose someone else in this war if I can help it.”

A/N: Wow, this is late. My bad. Not gonna lie, I've been under a lot of pressure at school and I haven't been in a great place this past week. Hope anyone finishing up their own final projects is doing well, and hopefully spring will be kind to us all 🫶🏼

Warnings: war, alcohol, language

Taglist: @liebgotts-lovergirl @latibvles @mrs-murder-daddy @lieutenant-speirs

After she and Shifty leave the field they’ve landed in on D-Day, they manage to link up with Skinny and Talbert. The night is full of fast movements, quick thinking, and uncertainty as they navigate through the French terrain, trying to distinguish friend from foe as they attempt to carry out their mission and stay alive. The next day they find Blithe from First Platoon standing among some crashed planes. After that they meet up with the rest of Easy, much to their relief – if you could call it that, considering that they get the order to move out what felt like seconds after tossing down their equipment and finding a place to sit amongst familiar faces.

Seemingly everyone has a story to tell. Bill and Joe tell her all about taking Brécourt Manner, with lots of expletives and colorful commentary. She can hardly follow the story for the heavy tugging in her heart at the realization that they managed to make it through the Day of Days and that they’ve all found each other again. If they’ve made it this far . . . No, she shouldn’t risk it; leave it to others to wonder if it’s a good omen that signals them making it through the rest of this war.

“So then they spot Lipton up in this tree – “

“Lipton? In a tree?” Zenie asks skeptically. With everything that she’s heard so far about Brécourt, Bill could tell her anything and she’d believe it. It’s fun to pull his leg, though. “I don’t buy it.”

“Well you better, ‘cause it’s true.”

“Swear to God,” Toye confirms. “Never seen anything like it.”

“Okay, well if Joe says it happened then it must be true.”

Bill gasps in mock hurt, putting a hand over his heart. “You would believe Joe over me?”

“I’d believe anyone over you,” Luz pipes up. He ducks, trying to avoid Bill’s hand as the Italian goes to smack him on the back of the head.

“You wanna hear the rest of the story or not?” Bill asks.

“Proceed.”

Zenie really does want to hear about the excitement at Brécourt Manor. But ever since she jumped out of that plane, things have been so hectic that she hasn’t gotten to properly rest in what feels like ages. She slingshots between rushing adrenaline and overwhelming exhilaration each time Easy Company is thrust into some sort of action and utter exhaustion whenever it’s over. Now, as they stand around in the dark waiting for whoever is up front to find wherever Fox Company has wandered off to now, she feels like she could close her eyes and sleep standing in place. The haze of her fatigue settles over her as she peers around at the ruined landscape, with its distant, smoldering fires glowing like stars that have fallen to earth. It makes her feel like she’s standing in a dream.

“Well, as I was sayin’ before I was so rudely interrupted,” Bill continues, making them all snicker. “The Krauts had just realized that Sergeant Lipton was shootin’ at ‘em from this tree . . .”

The company starts moving forward again as Bill talks, and she trudges forward with them. If this is a dream, it would be nice if she could skip to the part where she wakes up feeling refreshed.

As the dust settles over Carentan, the adrenaline and emotions of the battle still rush through them, winding them up like the little windup toys that children play with. They’re all so full of energy that they could probably power forward at full speed. Which seems to be exactly what the Army wants them to do, considering how little reprieve they’ve been given. And for her part, Zenie’s blood is pumping so fiercely that she could probably do it.

Yep, she thinks. They could probably run straight from here to Berlin and take out that nasty ol’ Hitler and end the war with time to spare.

Her heart is pounding in her chest. Another conflict that they’ve made it through.

Well, not everyone, unfortunately, she realizes as she passes bodies strewn throughout the street. Father Maloney is crouched over one of them, praying. That easily could have been her. The thought makes her mouth dry. She could have been one of them.

She wasn’t. She made it. And, glancing around, she tries to spot who else did, too.

Eugene is up ahead, wrapping bandages around an unrecognizable figure sprawled on the street. He offers her a nod as she passes, his stern brow furrowed, deep in thought. She spots Luz as he rushes by with his radio. Liebgott and Tab are leaned against a building taking a smoke break.

Skinny and Shifty are peering into the window of a shop that has the word Vin on a large sign over the door.

Zenie sidles up to them. Cupping her hands to block the light, she shields her eyes and leans into the window, squinting through the glass. “Whatcha got here, boys?”

In the reflections cast in the glass, she doesn’t miss the way that her last word causes Shifty’s posture to stiffen ever so slightly. Even when she tries to be careful, it’s like she can’t help but subconsciously give herself away. Jesus, no wonder he and Gene saw through her act so quickly.

“Some of France’s finest alcohol, from the looks of it.” In the glass, Skinny’s bright grin glints like sunlight. “I plan on sampling as much as I can before we move out.” As if he’s waiting for one of them to protest, he shrugs. “Don’t know when we might stumble across a good drink again. Might as well enjoy it while we can.”

While we can. That sentiment feels somewhat awkward, what with the injured and dead so near at hand.

It’s almost like England, in a way, in the time they were waiting for their jump – the desire to enjoy life to the fullest while they can, suppressing the uncertainty that waits unseen around a corner all the while. This is different, though, somehow. But she’s all strung out from the battle to give her full attention to why it feels that way.

“Might as well,” she echoes. “Who knows? Maybe there’re some Krauts in there.”

Skinny snaps his fingers. “Exactly! We’re just clearing the building, is all.”

The door to the shop opens easily. Skinny leads the way, grinning back at them as the rows of bottles spread before them. Shifty whistles as they take in the full scope of the store.

“How’re you gonna make a choice, Skinny?” Easy’s resident reprobate laughs.

“I’m not,” he says simply as he starts collecting bottles from shelves, stacking them in his arms as he browses.

In the quiet of the store, the laugh that escapes Zenie’s mouth is loud and almost startling. It’s really not that funny – yet somehow, to her, it is.

Most of the bottles contain what she can only assume is wine. The French words printed on the labels escape her. She picks one at random and hopes for the best. It’s not the score that Skinny has made, but it will do.

“Hey, Sisk! Save some for the rest of us, will ya?” Malarkey calls out as they file from the shop.

Arms piled high with bottles, Skinny trots off towards him. “In your dreams, Mal!”

“Don’t get caught with those!” Someone else calls out.

“They’ll be gone before anyone can think to catch him,” Zenie jokes. The threat of getting caught – of getting into trouble – weighs down the bottle in her hands. She ought to put it back where she took it from. Better safe than sorry.

Shifty glances down at the bottle in his own hands. A grin spreads over his face, as easily as butter on a warm biscuit. “Yeah, he ain’t as careful as us.”

When Zenie raises an eyebrow in question, Shifty jerks his head before walking off around the building. Away from prying eyes, he leans against the wall and pops open his bottle of wine. He shoots her a grin and raises it.

“We’ve made it this far.”

It takes her a second of fumbling, but Zenie finally manages to remove the cork from her own wine bottle with a satisfactory pop! She returns the gesture. “Cheers.”

They both drink deeply from their respective bottles. The strong taste that floods her mouth is . . . strong, but not unpleasant. Not what she was expecting, at least. She squeezes her eyes shut as she muscles down her first mouthful. Gasping, she looks to Shifty to gauge his reaction.

He chuckles as he watches her. “Not bad, huh?”

“Not good, either.”

He shrugs. “It’s somethin’, at least.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence for a minute as they attempt to enjoy more of the French culture that they’ve stumbled across. From around the building, there are still sounds of movement and orders being called out as everyone tries to figure out what happens next. Here, though, it’s just the two of them, for the first time since the night that they landed in that field; it’s the first time that they’ve been alone since they kissed.

“Osigwutsu?” Shifty asks suddenly. Maybe he’s come to the same realization that she has.

She would kiss him again, right here, in broad daylight – if it weren’t for the threat of being caught and unable to explain themselves without giving away her secret.

“Osigwu. Nihina?”

Shifty nods. “Diniwonisgi tsadulihasg?” Do you want to talk?

“We should.” Zenie glances around the corner of the shop. They’re alone, but for how long? “You want to talk about – “ Her mouth goes dry and her heart feels light. They’re finally getting to acknowledge what’s there, right between them. “ – about what happened?”

His voice is quiet. “I think we should. When we’re alone. When it’s safer.”

Zing! As if to prove a point, a bullet hits the wall above their heads. A few days ago that might have made Zenie gasp, made her question her own morality and what she was really doing here. Now though, after all the bullets that have missed her, she finds herself glaring in the direction that it came from. Shifty does the same. Neither of them moves, even when a second bullet hits the wall a few feet to Shifty’s left.

Safer. It might never be safe. Still, she’s willing to wait. She would wait a hundred years for Shifty if he asked her to.

“Well now, that sniper couldn’t hit a barn.” He bumps their shoulders together and Zenie smiles. She can do that now – no more glancing away and hiding how she feels. No more denying it, even to herself.

No, she only has to keep it hidden from the rest of the world.

They ignore the occasional bullets from the sniper and chat about nothing while the world goes on.

She’s half asleep when a soft thump! in her foxhole forces her reflexes into action. Her fingers are curled around her rifle before her eyes are open.

“Whoa, hey! It’s just me!” A soft voice assures her as she tries to force her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Doc Roe is holding his hands half-up in surrender and half-out, the way that one approaches a scared animal.

Zenie forces herself to take a deep breath to calm her racing heart. “You scared the shit outta me.”

“Sorry.” Through the darkness, it looks like he smiles a little. “Been waitin’ to talk to ya, and Bill finally left, so I took the chance.”

Bill is gone, she realizes. That means that she should have been awake, taking her turn to watch the darkness. Gene rushes on before guilt has the chance to flood her.

“Wanted to check on ya, see how you’re doin.’” His words are so casual that Zenie starts to wonder if she’s half asleep and imagining the conversation.

“I’m . . . fine, how about yourself?”

“Good. But I meant how are you doing?” He makes a vague gesture, like he’s indicating her whole body.

Oh.

“I’m – “

Gene holds up a hand. “Don’t lie. You got any pain?”

Zenie thinks long and hard about how to answer him. There’s only so much that she can do when men seem to be all around her constantly.

“My ribs are a little sore,” she confesses. “And my bladder hurts.”

“You been holdin’ it?”

“No, just haven’t had to go.”

Even with the cover of night and the shadow from his helmet obscuring him, Zenie can still see the medic’s eyebrows furrow in the way they always do when he’s considering something. “You been drinkin’ water?”

Having people be upset with her in her own home is one thing. That’s something she’s used to. But having someone be upset with her here, so far from home? It shakes her. She thought that she was done with all that, that she had outrun it, somehow, or hidden from it. The worst part is that she can’t even brush it off as someone being mad at Thomas, because Gene knows; he can see past her disguise and issue his disappointment right past her armor and straight at her – Zena.

“A little . . .”

She bites her lip when Gene sighs. “You gotta stay hydrated.”

“I know, but – “

“You guys got a party goin’ on down here?” With a louder thump! than Gene made, Bill lands next to her in the foxhole, settling back into his spot. “Hiya, Doc. What brings ya to this neck of the woods?”

Even to someone who didn’t know their situation, it would still be obvious that Gene is considering the situation very carefully. Finally, he says, “Bill, do me a favor and make sure that Thomas drinks more water, will ya?”

Bill looks startled. “You ain’t been drinkin’ water?”

“I have, but – “

“Not enough,” Gene interrupts. He gives them a stern nod. Just as he starts to say something else, shouts fill the night air as someone cries out for a medic. “Stay hydrated, Thomas.”

When he’s gone, Bill unscrews the cap on his canteen and hands it to her. No words are exchanged, but his mouth is pressed into a thin line that says it all. Zenie sighs as she sips the water.

Bill watches her like a hawk until he’s determined that she’s had enough. Only then does he nod and take back the canteen. He shoots her several quick glances, still saying nothing. His expression is inscrutable. God, is she just bound to upset everyone that she cares about at some point? She almost wishes that he would say whatever is on his mind and get it over with just so that she can quit worrying and put it behind her.

Their foxhole stays quiet. Noise floats through the night air from wherever Gene had to rush off to. She’s curious about what’s going on, of course, but she’s intent on staying quiet and not upsetting anyone else. News in the company travels fast; she’s sure to find out tomorrow.

On the horizon ahead, the inky blackness of night is softening to a cool purple. A thin strip of blue starts to shatter the sky, separating day from night, signaling another night that she’s made it through and another day that she has to fight.

Bill unscrews the cap of his canteen again and passes it to her.

“Drink some water, Tommy Boy.” He keeps his eyes firmly on the changing sky above them as he mutters the order. “I ain’t gonna lose someone else in this war if I can help it.”

Someone else. His brother is gone. That grief is still festering within him and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

She takes the canteen and drinks the water without argument.

#*offers you this chapter and then recedes back into the abyss*#going out of my mind thinking about who gets to show up soon 👀🤭#band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers #shifty powers x original female character #shifty powers x ofc #shifty powers #my writing #oc zenie mcglamery #like a girl (like a man)#hbo war #hbo war fanfic

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