#(I’ll probably still poke my nose in here and there but I’m not planning to actively Write for a good while here)

[justashadetalkative]

Status

Extending the break! Family is visiting, I still have some projects to finish, and my focus is just… very thoroughly elsewhere, ahaha.

I should be more active again sometime in January!

In the mean time, I hope you’re all doing well and that the new year is gentle for us all. o7

[aquaticrunner]

Silent Pain | Part 1

Edmund Pevensie x Fem!Reader | Request: Edmund x reader where the reader is bubbly and a bit of an airhead who is very feminine. She meets the Pevensie family as Lucy’s best friend. Edmund dislikes her because of how carefree she is and how negative things never seem to affect her. Overtime, he slowly starts to warm up to her and they start to become friends and maybe even more. | Word count: 2K

A/N: I worked on this for so long trying to get it just right. I really like the result and I hope you all do too! I had to make it a series because this part was 2,000 words and I just couldn’t fit everything I wanted without making it ridiculously long.

I bounced over to where Lucy was sitting at her desk and placed my hands on my best friend’s shoulders. “Take a deep breath,” I said. “You got this.” Lucy nodded and slowly opened the letter in her hands. I watched as she read, keeping my hands on her shoulders for moral support. After a couple minutes, Lucy jumped out of her seat in excitement. “I got it!” She yelled. “I got the internship!” I squealed in excitement and threw my arms around her. “I knew you would!” I shouted back. 

“What is all the shouting going on in here?” Lucy’s brother, Edmund poked his head into the room and asked. “I got my internship!” She said. Edmund raised his eyebrows and nodded in response. “Congratulations, Lu. I’m proud of you.” “We should go out tonight! To celebrate!” I suggested. Lucy’s smile somehow got even bigger. “Yes! Oh, can we Ed? Please? Please?” She grabbed onto his arm in anticipation of his answer. Edmund stared at her for a moment before sighing in defeat. “Alright, we’ll go out tonight.” “Yay!” Lucy jumped around the room celebrating. I laughed and Edmund just rolled his eyes. 

“I have to go tell everyone!” Lucy said and rushed out of the room, leaving me alone with Edmund. I smiled at Edmund. “So, do you have any big plans for the summer?” I asked him. Edmund shrugged. “Probably just work and hang out with some friends. You?” “I’ll probably be working on my portfolio! I’ve been getting into photography and fashion lately.” “Yeah, that sounds like something you would be into.” My smile faltered slightly but I brushed off his comment and responded happily. “I am! It’s been really fun.” Edmund rolled his eyes once more and followed Lucy out of the room. I walked out as well and ran into Lucy in the living room of the Pevensie home. “Y/N! Everyone has agreed to come out with us tonight. Even Peter!” I beamed at her. “That’s great! I should probably get home and get ready then.” “Alright!” She responded. “I’ll see you tonight!” I waved and turned to walk out the door.

-

I brushed my fingers over my dress, smoothing out the wrinkles. I picked up my makeup brush and dusted a light amount of blush over my nose and cheeks. I slipped my favorite shoes on and rushed out the door saying goodbye to my family on the way out. The headlights in the driveway indicated that the Pevensies were already here and I ran to the car, hopping into the back next to Edmund and Lucy. “Thanks for making us late,” Edmund grumbled under his breath. My eyes widened. “Oh no! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to!” I said. Peter turned to look at me and shook his head. “No worries! We should still be on time.” I nodded and breathed a small sigh in relief. 

Edmund looked me up and down. “I’d ask what took you so long but it’s pretty obvious.” I knitted my brows in confusion. “What do you mean?” I asked. “Your hair, your makeup, your dress. It’s a bit much don’t you think?” He said. “Well, I think she looks beautiful!” Lucy piped in. “I’d have to agree,” Peter said from the front of the car. I blushed while Edmund just turned away from me in annoyance. 

The ride to the restaurant was short but filled with fun conversation and quiet music. When Peter pulled into the parking lot and put the car in park, the four siblings and I quickly shuffled out. “I’ll go make sure our reservation is ready,” Peter said. We all nodded and I watched as Peter walked into the restaurant. Once he disappeared, I turned back to Lucy to make quiet conversation. “What are you two whispering about?” Susan asked, coming to stand next to us. Lucy smirked and glanced over at Edmund, making sure he was far away. “I think Edmund has a crush on Y/N.” I nearly laughed out loud. “No, he doesn’t,” I assured them. Susan looked at both girls in consideration. “I’d be inclined to agree with Y/N. Ed doesn’t seem like the romantic type honestly.” Lucy groaned in response. “But, it would be so cute!” I just shook my head. Before I had time to think up a response, Peter appeared once more. “The table is ready!”

All of us shuffled into the restaurant and followed our server to the table. I ended up sitting in a booth with Edmund on my left side and Lucy on my right. Our server asked for our drink orders and we all placed them. As we all talked and waited, Edmund’s shoulder bumped into mine. “Oh, I’m sorry!” I said. “It’s fine. Just watch out.” He said. I smiled at him in response. “Okay!” He narrowed his eyes at me and I stared back at him, still smiling. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked. “You’re just… annoyingly happy tonight,” He said. “I’m always annoyingly happy!” I said, giggling. “Yeah, no kidding.” He seemed done talking to me after that so I turned back to the rest of the group. The rest of the night was spent talking and laughing and celebrating Lucy’s accomplishment. 

After we all finished eating, we piled back into the car and headed home. Peter dropped me off and I waved goodbye to everyone before going back inside my house. I was pretty tired so I went up to my room and changed into my pajamas. Before climbing into my bed, I checked the notifications on my phone and saw a text from Lucy. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight! I had a blast.” I typed back, “Anytime! I’ll see you tomorrow!” I went to plug my phone in but it dinged with the notification sound once more. “Can’t wait! BTW Edmund is going to be joining us at the park.” I bit my lip as I read her message and typed back a thumbs up. I put my phone away and went to sleep. 

-

The next day, I woke up early to get ready for going to the park with Lucy. I threw on some shorts, a cute top, and styled my hair the way I liked it. About the time I was done getting ready, I had a text from Lucy telling me that she was here to pick me up. I grabbed my backpack and ran out of the house. I hesitated when I saw that Edmund was the one driving, but I opened the car door and climbed into the backseat. “Hey guys!” I said.

Lucy waved excitedly and Edmund nodded slightly. Lucy turned around to talk to me and we made quiet conversation as Edmund drove us to the park. When we arrived, both Lucy and I jumped out of the car excitedly. Lucy held a bag of seeds in her hands and we momentarily locked eyes. We both broke out smiling and began running towards the lake. I laughed as we raced and laughed even harder when Lucy stumbled over a tree branch. I slowed to a stop and turned around to make sure she was okay. “You alright?” I asked her. She nodded, laughing. “I’m okay.” Her cheeks were red and her hair was already a mess from the wind. I’m sure I looked about the same. 

We walked the rest of the way to the lake with our arms linked. When we reached the edge of the lake, there were already several ducks swimming in the water. “Do you want to feed them first?” She asked me. I nodded excitedly and grabbed a handful of seeds from the bag. I sat down and waited for the ducks to approach me. When they did, I held out my hand and they ate the seeds hungrily. I giggled the whole time and couldn’t wipe the smile off my face even when they were done eating. I stood back up and brushed the dirt off my pants. 

“Why do you find this so exciting?” Edmund asked me. “Because they’re so cute!” I responded. He looked at me as if he was trying to figure out if I was being serious or not. “They’re ducks.” He said, looking bored. I shrugged and grabbed another handful of seeds out of the bag. I walked back over to Edmund and opened up his hand, dropping the seeds into it. “Here. You try.” I said. He rolled his eyes and threw the seeds onto the ground. “No thanks.” I bit my lip and walked back to where Lucy was standing. “Edmund seems in a worse mood than usual today.” I said. She turned to look at him and sighed. “I’m not sure what his deal is today,” she responded. She handed me the bag of seeds. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom.” I nodded and watched as she walked away. Now, it was just me and Edmund.

I hovered next to him awkwardly, occasionally throwing seeds to the ducks. “So…” I started. “What have you been up to today?” He glanced at me before answering. “Mostly just working on homework stuff,” He said while kicking at the ground with his foot. I nodded my head. “That seems like fun. Well, maybe not fun exactly but it’s always good to be ahead with schoolwork instead of behind.” I realized I was rambling and trailed off, waiting to see if he would respond. “Right.” I sighed. He was just so hard to talk to. “Are you having a bad day?” I decided to ask him. He looked surprised that I asked him but quickly recovered his emotionless exterior. “No. Why would you think that?” He asked me.

“You just seem like you’re in a bad mood,” I said. “Well, coming to the park with two screaming girls isn’t exactly my idea of a fun time.” He responded. “Then why did you come?” I asked. I instantly felt bad and tried to save the conversation. “Not that I didn’t want you to come, it's just-” He cut me off before I could finish. “Lucy asked me to drive so I drove. I probably wouldn’t have if I’d known you would be here.” I took a small step back, my feelings slightly hurt. “What does that mean?” “I think it’s pretty obvious at this point.” “Do you not like me or something?” “That’s pretty much it.” “But…why? I’ve never done anything to you.” “You just try too hard. It’s annoying.” He said. 

At this point, I could feel the tears behind my eyes and it was a struggle to hold them back. I knew that we weren’t exactly friends but I thought it was just because he associated me with his little sister. I never realized he actively disliked me. Lucy came back before I had time to respond. “Hey guys!” She shouted. I plastered a smile onto my face and waved to her as she approached. 

“Hey Lu? Do you think we could head home?” I asked her. She frowned, and I continued talking, trying to come up with a good excuse to leave. “I just remembered I have a ton of homework to catch up on. The end of school is the busiest time.” She didn’t look totally convinced but she nodded and led us back to the car. Edmund drove us by my house and I hopped out of the car with a small goodbye. 

I threw my backpack on the floor, telling myself I would just unpack it later. I crawled into my bed and allowed myself some time to wallow in my self-pity. After a while of crying, my sadness began to turn to anger. Edmund doesn’t even know me! How dare he judge me? I wiped the tears off my face and sat up. If he didn’t like me, fine. I would show him that I don’t give a damn about his opinion. I texted Lucy and asked if she wanted to come over (after I finished my supposed homework). I got out of bed and looked at my splotchy but determined face in the mirror. We had some serious work to do.

A/N: I did change this request a little bit! I don’t love the whole femininity=stupidity idea so I didn’t really make her dumb but I did make her kind, carefree, and supportive as well as feminine. Also, I made this a modern AU just cause. Hope you enjoyed the read! :)

[saltofmercury]

Secrets

Pairing: Soap x f!reader

Author's note: a little bit of angst with Johnny, remember he's loyal to his job before anything else.

"Secrets"

Things with Johnny had been going good. He had come back into your life, settled in there and was attempting to make it permanent. Waking up to his pout, him coming to your work to drop off lunch, lingering by the entrance of your office as he kissed you goodbye, small attempts to remind you he was here.

Johnny had enjoyed it too. He liked waiting for you to come home, make dinner for you, and watch you be you. He enjoyed planning the weekend, taking trips together, being snuggled on the couch with you and your many blankets and decorative pillows all over.

It was a small bubble you two had formed, willing to step on eggshells around one another as not pop it.

Things were going great—

—But there was the lingering tension between you two. As much as you wanted to ignore it and continue being with one another…There had always been this string of commotion between you, the chaos of his world, his reputation that he never talked about with you. You were both at fault, not wanting to crack the safe cocoon of domestic bliss you had been creating with one another.

So when it came to him leaving so suddenly, you cracked the bubble between you two.

“I don’t want you to go.” You had said one morning watching him take the duffle bag out of your closet.

“Dinnae say that to me, yeah? This is my job.”

“This is my job” a bit of “Soap” had come out when he spoke to you. Cold, heartless, and prideful.

It was childish but you pushed harder, for some hope of information.

“How long?”

“Not sure hen, but I’m positive for at least three months.”

Three months.

“Are you going to keep in contact with me?”

He had turned to you, seeing how hurt you were. You were met with his cold gaze, that had softened a bit. Johnny never expected to get hooked on someone so fast. He never expected someone other than his family to worry about him.

“You know I can’t pet,” he said, he had to keep a distance with his home life and work life.

“Johnny” didn’t exist out there, “Soap” did. And you knew nothing about Soap.

“This is unfucking stupid!” You had pulled your hair from your head and went to your living room leaving him alone to pack. In about four days he would be gone, no communication or trace of him for three months.

You put your show on, trying to distract yourself. Mentally repeating to yourself that you would not cry about this. Over a man who didn’t want to open up to you emotionally or be honest with you.

About two episodes in, he had come out, leaning against the wall, staring at you.

Flashbacks of talking to Gaz had flooded his brain. The things he told him after a mission, Gaz had mumbled about,

“You’re falling in love.”

He had brushed off Gaz’s comment. Laughing at him for being so stupid, but also for calling it how it is. How on the nose he was. Gaz was probably one of the only ones on the team who could read through Soap’s bullshit.

Johnny spoke softly, willing to negotiate with you.

"This is all new to me, I'm sorry."

You still didn’t turn, hurt that he wouldn’t open up about his job.

“Come on hen…” he walked over to where you were.

“Cannae have you poking around my job, it’s serious.”

You looked over at him, taken back that he would assume you wanted such a thing.

“All I’m asking for is a phone call, an email would suffice Johnny.”

He felt it in his stomach, he felt it in his heart, but he could not give that to you. Not after Ghost’s past.

“I’ll let you drop me off hen. But you’d got to give me time.”

He was serious again, the base would surely be safe enough for you to know about it, but he could not let anything happen to you because of his job.

It was a small small start.

*

Four days later it was quiet in the car. The navigation of your phone adding to the dull atmosphere that had settled between you two.

Johnny had been staring out the passenger window, with no attempt to hold your hand or to talk to you. He was nervous. Was it in the best interest even having you know where his base was? It was a different country, but people lurked everywhere. Paranoia had swarmed his thoughts.

He asked you to park further away to where people were actually dropping off family members and friends.

You followed his orders, kind of surprised that his side of him was coming out.

He got out first before you could turn the car off. He had stomped over to the driver's side, opening the door and enveloping you with his hands.

His mouth had found yours, feverishly and hungrily opened it. He had held your face with his hands, tucked it under your hair, and caressed the other side of your face.

“Come on, get out.”

You got out of the car, and he proceeded to kiss you even more, pushing you against the car to show you how much at this moment he had regret not saying goodbye properly last night for not being honest, not being more open about his job, and leaving you behind.

He had pulled away from the kiss, his lips lingering on yours, his hand rubbing your chin.

“You know I’m sorry right?” He whispered. You nodded silently.

“This is as far as you can come.”

He looked down at your eyes, placing soft kisses on your lips.

“I think I love you, hen and I’m sorry.”

He didn’t let you speak, he didn’t really care if you said it back right now. He grabbed his bag from the backseat and walked up to the base, not looking back.

*

You had been out with friends grabbing a coffee. You watched the milk swirl into your second cup, trying to focus on the conversation. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

Your phone rang in your bag from an unknown number. You didn’t have the chance to answer it or wonder who it was, due to a blocked number.

*

Johnny grabbed the hour of leisure to lock himself up in his office. He grabbed the phone he had been supplied, blocking his number so that you wouldn’t be tempted to call or text the phone number. He entered your phone number memorized in his head, then hesitated pressing the call button.

It rang and rang, no answer. Your voicemail had greeted him;

“sorry I can’t come to the phone, but leave a name and number and I can call you right back! Byeeeeee!”

He smiled at your voicemail, realizing he’s never heard it before.

“Hiya pet. It’s me, but you won’t be able to call me back. Thought I’d surprise ya, but guess I got ya at the wrong time. Miss and love you, see ya in about a month.”

He drummed his fingers on the desk, then decided against trying you again. He deleted the number from its history and locked the phone up in the desk. He had about a month left and everything was going bad. Everything was being resorted to plan B, C, and D. He just hoped that for one hour of his job he could hear about you for a change.

He dragged himself up again, ready to finish the mission.

*

The month passed by and you had filled your car with balloons you had blown up yourself. You got the snacks he enjoyed, and filled a small cooler with the chocolate milk he drank. You had taken the initiative to go pick him up. You had just hoped that he would be arriving exactly a month after you had received the voicemail.

How annoyed you were with yourself for going to the bathroom to cry, when seconds before he could reach out to you. You swear it was like you two communicated through telepathy.

To your surprise, and true to his word, by the time you pulled up to the parking spot there were other people waiting as well.

Nerves struck your stomach and you began to fidget. You were crossing a boundary here.

You had waited about half an hour before you saw him, walking side by side with someone else.

The other man – had his height, a serious face, and curls on his head. The man had eyed you down, recognizing you, but didn’t say a word. He gently nudged Johnny, poking his head towards you. You had started to fidget with your knuckles.

Because at that moment, there was no relief to see you. You were embraced with confusion, like his brain had tried to piece together why you were here, and his face never dropped the confused look and it erupted into looking furious. He walked towards you.

“Why are you here?”

You had become disoriented, wounded by how he was speaking to you.

“Go in the car, i’ll be with you in about five minutes.”

He couldn’t believe what was happening. He needed to take a few minutes to calm down so that he didn't explode.

You couldn’t believe what was going on. Was the voicemail you had received for someone else? Did he not mean what he said? You got in the driver's seat and turned the car on, chewing on your lip to evade any tears piercing your eyes.

He had gotten into the car without a word. He didn’t even realize the small balloons everywhere, or the effort you had put into throwing small confetti in your car. Just stayed quiet, still in the passenger seat.

By the time you merged onto the freeway, you decide to take the first exit. You weren’t going to continue in silence.

Swerving into a pharmacy parking lot and setting the car in park, you turned to him,

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Do you just plan on ignoring me the entire ride? You could’ve easily taken the ride with your friend.”

He had continued watching outside the window, his mouth being bumped by his hand.

“Can you at least fucking look at me?”

He turned to you slowly, still serious as ever.

“Nobody asked ya to come get me.”

You were livid. You had been just playing house with this asshole a couple months ago.

“Look i’m sorry I crossed a boundary here, but I thought this meant I could come see you, you practically gave me the location!”

Soap kicked himself mentally for this. Yes, he did give the location to the military base he left from. But he never called you to come get him. He knew he was being an asshole but there was so much to him that he did not want to reveal, and Gaz being the first to see you was already strike one.

“Hen, if I didn’t give you permission to come get me, please don’t do it.” He grabbed your face, pleading with his eyes.

“Look, I know I was a proper bampot back there, but you can’t surprise me like this.”

“You know you’re such an asshole, you still climbed into the car with me knowing that — actually just forget it I’m sorry I even came.”

You were hurt. It seemed like he could do everything in the relationship except show any sort of emotional reciprocation towards you. He didn’t even give you a good explanation as to why.

You drove home in silence.

You had arrived back to your apartment, locking yourself in your room. Johnny had gone to take a shower. Tears that had been lingering for three months came out. You sobbed and cried into your pillow, upset that you had been given someone so special as Johnny, but clearly with no room to be available to you.

He had knocked on the door, before realizing it was locked. He unlocked it with some hair clip laying around, then came in.

“Can we please talk?”

“Don’t ignore me hen, come on” He creeped up behind you in bed, whispering i’m sorry to your neck and back, cradling you and hoping he didn’t fuck this up.

You turned to your side, feeling the regret of the decision you came up with.

“I don’t think I can be with you Johnny,”

There’s a sharp pain that drops in his stomach.

“Come on, don't say that.”

“I.. I don't think you want a relationship, because this isn’t what a relationship is.”

He stands up now, clenching one of his fists, because he’s stupid, he’s overreacted, he does want this.

“Hen, please, I –I'll give you more. We were on a mission in Africa and –”

“It’s not fair Johnny, it’s not even you ignoring me, but shoving me aside that’s not how it works.”

He had got down on his knees, grabbing your hands in his.

“I told you to give me some time hen, I don’t want you to …”

He had replayed several instances like this late at night wondering what you would think of him once he did tell you about his job. What he did.

“Can you just sleep on the couch tonight? I want some space.”

And Johnny obeyed, a dull pain surrounded his body because he was willing to spill the secrets he kept safe just to have you by his side.

[oh-stars]

Who Did This To You?

Black Eye

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 1,299 words | CW: injury | Rating: T

--

The front door creaks open so slowly the hinges whine the loudest he’s ever heard them. Steve can’t help but turn the burner down on the stove and poke his head around the cabinets to see why. “Robbie? You okay?” They’ve shared this apartment for long enough that they both know how to open the door without it creaking so loud, and yet here they are. 

She’s got her back turned to him as she peels off her heels and puts her coat and bag on the rack “Totally fine,” she calls, not turning her head. This is all fine and well until she starts walking backward toward the hallway. 

“Hold it,” he says, a hand out to stop her. He presses firmly on her back, pressure moving from fingertips to the heel of his hand in case she tries to make a run for it. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing!” 

“Liar.” 

She groans and covers her face with her hands as she turns to him. “Can’t a girl go rot in bed after work in peace?”

Steve puts his hands on his hips. “Not when you’re acting suspicious. C’mon dude, just tell me what’s going on and I’ll leave you alone. Scout’s honor.” He even holds up the three fingers, not that she sees it. 

Robin doesn’t move her hands. “Nothing happened,” she says, on the edge of hysterics, “it was a totally normal day at the museum and I’m wiped from all the history I had to shove down fifth graders’ throats today. So if you don’t mind, I’d really like to–” 

His stomach drops. 

As Robin’s rambling, trying to make a quick exit, her fingers move slightly on her face and he can just make out the familiar edges of a bruise. A bruise that’s just under her eyebrow on her right eye and probably extends lower. 

Without thinking, Steve snatches Robin’s hands away, his fingers wrapped firm enough to move her but not enough to keep her in place, so he can see the full damage. It’s a black eye, a nasty one at that. There’s a small cut on her nose and the swelling looks pretty rough. 

“Who did this to you?” Steve asks as he moves her face gently into the light so he can get a proper look. 

Robin’s face turns bright red. “Noone!” 

“Robin,” Steve warns, “I’m serious.” 

“So am I!” Robin says, pushing her way out of his hands. She starts pacing, hands emphasizing her points as she starts to explain. “Do you know in school how those big, long tables in the cafeteria fold up? And at the very center there’s a gap and all the levers and stuff to pull the tables up?” She waits for two seconds for Steve to nod, then barrels on. “Right so I was sitting at the middle of the table in the cafeteria today and our tables aren’t as long as a schools but they still fold up and Bianca was sitting across from me. You know how stupid she makes me feel,” she whines. 

“You drop three IQ points,” Steve says, nodding despite the confusion on his face. “And you can’t keep your balance for shit.” 

“Exactly,” Robin groans. “So you can imagine how much of a disaster I was with one-on-one time with her! She’s just so pretty, Steve, and I was making her laugh! In, like, a good way! But we were also working through lunch, because we’re both workaholics and this project is a nightmare with how close the deadline is, so it’s better to just work through it. But I’m clumsy, I’m a walking hazard, so of course as I’m explaining my plan for the new tour and what changes I think it needs, my pen flies out of my hand.” 

“Oh no,” Steve says, pinching the bridge of his nose as his shoulders relax with the leftover tension in his body now dissolving. “Tell me you didn’t.” 

Robin stops her pacing to fall back onto the couch with an ‘umph.’ “It was under the table, Steve. Bianca offered to get it, but I couldn’t just let her stoop down and grab my pen. What kind of person would I be to inconvenience her like that? So of course, I have to get it.” 

“But you’re wearing a skirt,” Steve sighs. 

She points to him without looking. “I’m wearing a skirt! Which means I can’t just crouch down and grab it or do anything like a normal person. No! I decided to try and use my foot to pull it closer so I don’t have to degrade myself by crawling all over the floor.” 

Steve shakes his head as he pushes off the archway and heads to the freezer for an ice pack. He snags a rag out of the drawer to wrap it in as he makes his way back to the couch, where Robin’s still talking. 

“It gets farther and farther away. Bianca’s trying to ask if I need help. I’m in a weird half squat out of my seat, looking like I’m treading water trying to grab this pen. And now other people are starting to watch me. Which only makes me more flustered and determined to see this through so I don’t pay attention to the knob in the center of the table.” 

“And let me guess,” Steve sighs as he puts the ice pack on her face, “it got up close and personal with your retina?” 

Robin nods, face bright red underneath the rag and bruising. “My first black eye and it wasn’t even from something cool.” 

“You lost a fight with a table.” 

“Over a pen.” 

“But did you get the girl?” 

Robin whines and curls away from him. “No,” she grumbles into the cushions. 

He rubs her back. “Does it hurt?” 

“No,” she squeaks out but he can tell that means yes. 

“I’ll grab you something for it. Just keep that ice pack on while I finish dinner, alright?” 

Robin doesn’t say anything, just tugs the blanket off the back of the couch to burrow under as Steve heads back to the kitchen. She only mumbles a thanks when he returns with a glass of water and a few tablets of pain medicine. 

His sauce is nearly done so Steve gets started on making the noodles and getting the rest of their meal together. He doesn’t turn the radio on, just in case there’s a headache accompanying the black eye, so he hears the phone loud and clear when he’s draining the noodles. 

Steve nearly loses all of his noodles as he dives for the phone. “Buckley and Harrington’s, Harrington speaking,” he says as polite as ever despite the frantic movement of his hands. 

“Hi, is Robin there?” a woman asks. 

He pauses. “Yes, can I ask who’s calling?” 

“It’s Bianca, her coworker at the museum. I just want to make sure she’s okay after… everything,” she says, voice shaky and a little shy. If Steve had to guess, she sounds nervous. 

Steve grins. “Well, Bianca,” he says loud enough for Robin to hear, “Robin’s just come in and is busy at the moment but I can have her call you back.” 

There’s a series of thumps as Robin scrambles to meet Steve in the kitchen, her good eye so wide he thinks it may pop out of her skull. 

“On second thought,” Steve says, “it looks like she’s all free. Here she is.” 

He just barely catches a meek ‘thank you’ before Robin’s snatching the phone and taking a deep breath. 

She shuffles closer to the phone dock, twirling the cord. “Bianca? Hi, yeah, it’s so nice of you to call.” 

Steve grins as he finishes up dinner. Looks like she got the girl anyway. The Buckley Charm is working. 

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

[gintrinsic-writing]

"The rats ate it."

@elle-rosewater gave me the fun dialogue prompt "we'll just tell them the rats ate it."

CW recent violence (someone eaten by monster). For whumptober, ofc.

--

Shlag was not often surprised, but this made him squeal. “What are you doing?”

The sparse hairs along Kreetin’s neck stood on end as he spun around. Bits of flesh clung to his tusks. “What? Nothing.” He kicked out a conspicuous hoof, but the body was too large to hide behind him. “It wasn’t me.”

“Wasn’t you? Wasn’t you? You’re still chewing!”

Kreetin stopped chewing. “It’s not my fault!”

“Like hell it isn’t!” Shlag snarled, gesturing with his spear. “You were supposed to guard the hero, not stuff your face. When Lord Ganon finds out…”

Kreetin shuffled from hoof to hoof. He began to stink more than usual. Fear always did that. “You have to help me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because—because I won’t be the only one punished!” Kreetin blurted. Seeing Shlag hesitate, he grew confident, his beady eyes sparkling in the firelight. “That’s right. You know I’m right. Lord Ganon will…” He paused to gulp, confidence already fading. “He’ll have all our hides. Yours, especially, for not being here to stop me!”

“I was takin’ a piss!”

“Right. Off wasting time. Should’ve been here, at your post.”

A growl vibrated in Shlag’s throat. “Damn you, Kreetin.” He leaned around to get a better look at the hero, then groaned. “What a fuckin’ mess. There’ll be no covering this up.”

“It’s fine,” Kreetin said, picking at a stringy bit stuck between his largest molars, apparently reassured by Shlag’s situation. “We’ll just tell him the rats ate it.”

“The rats?” Shlag took a deep breath, then hit Kreetin over the head. The resulting squeal of pain made him feel slightly better, so he hit him again. “Fuckin’ rats? Rats don’t leave bites that big! Rats don’t break arms first!”

Kreetin rubbed at his abused skull. “It’s not that obvious—”

Shlag rounded on him with a murderous look. “If you say one more stupid thing, I’ll feed you to the rats!”

Kreetin pouted. It made his tusks look small. “So what do we do?”

Shlag tapped the butt of his spear against the ground as he thought. “Potions?” he muttered. “Do we have potions?”

“Not me.”

“I know you don’t. You’re useless. Maybe the wizzrobes? Or that scrub, Alfie. He’s pretty smart, for a plant.”

“I don’t like that scrub,” Kreetin grumbled. “He shot a seed at my ass last spring. Took hours to dig out.”

Shlag felt one of his eye plates twitch. “You probably deserved it. Anyway, that’s our plan. We get a potion, feed it to the hero…” He paused uneasily. “Potions work on corpses, right?”

Kreetin scratched his nose. “Not sure.”

Instead of striking Kreetin again, Shlag crouched down in front of the hero and poked at the largest of the bites. Globs of congealed blood stuck to his claw. “If we survive this, I’m going to kill you.”

Kreetin was quiet long enough that Shlag glanced back. He was entirely unimpressed by the nervous, toothy grin Kreetin offered, or the knife gripped in his stubby fist. 

“Just protection,” Kreetin assured him. “I wasn’t gonna do anything. I need your help.” He blinked as he remembered their predicament. “And you need mine!”

To their mutual surprise, an alarm sounded within the castle. Seconds later, a squad of guards ran past the entrance to the dungeon, their hooves, talons, and claws scraping against the stone floor. One of them, a moblin with a heavily scarred muzzle, paused to look in. “Heads up,” she chuffed. “Looks like the other heroes—” She frowned at them, scenting the air, then gasped. “Is that the prisoner? What the hell happened?”

“Rats!” Kreetin blurted. There were still bits of the hero sticking to his chin. 

Shlag sighed. He’d have to kill Kreetin sooner rather than later, for his own sake. “What’s this about other heroes?”

“They’re here, attacking, eight of them. Lord Ganon’s ordered us to engage.” She grimaced at the corpse. “They’re not going to be happy…”

“Maybe we can throw this one at them,” Kreetin suggested. “Make ‘em frazzled, you know?”

Shlag exchanged a look with the moblin. “Sure,” Shlag said. “Good idea, Kreetin. You do that, and I’ll back you up.”

Kreetin grinned. He really was too stupid to tolerate, but at least this harebrained plan would solve one problem. Shlag only hoped he’d survive the rest.

[slayonehundredninetytwo]

Can I make a New Year’s request? Maybe something like Beomgyu getting sick with a fever right before New Year’s even though they had plans but they hyungs agree to home to take care of him so he’s not alone

(because i am not korean, i cannot accurately describe their new years traditions. so for the sake of the fic and the other new years fics to come, they will celebrate with american traditions.)

December 31,  aka New Year’s eve. A day filled with celebrations and champagne. But this year, it will be celebrated with sleep and tylenol, because Beomgyu is running a fever. He’s sure of it. From the moment he woke up to turn down the temperature on the thermostat to find it was already at 70 degrees, he knew he was sick. Bummer. And on New Year’s Eve? How lame. He contemplated telling his members. On the one hand, they don’t have work anyway. But also, the group had been looking forward to attending the company’s New Year’s eve party. He decided they didn’t have to know. Besides, his fever is probably not even that high. If he can ignore the chills, hot flashes, fatigue, sweat dripping down his forehead and aches through his whole body, he’ll be fine. No biggy.

He popped a slice of toast into the toaster. He debated just going back to bed, but he didn’t want to be suspicious. He’s usually the early riser of the group, and now that the rest of the members are stumbling into the kitchen, it’s too late to go back. 

Taehyun took one look at Beomgyu, and knew he was sick. The paleness of his face streaked with hot pink cheeks made it oh so apparent the he had quite a fever. 

“Soobin, can you come here?” He hollered through the halls. Soobin, still rubbing sleep from his eyes followed the voice to the kitchen, stopping in the doorframe, “What is it-“,

“Shit Gyu, are you sick?”he interrupted himself upon the sight of his obviously sick dongsaeng.

“I- Uh..well…” he murmured, shocked that his members had been able to tell so easily. He felt a strong hand pressing on his forehead.

“Oh my god Beomgyu, you’re on fire! Not that I’m surprised, you look like you just ran a marathon!” Soobin exclaimed as he removed his hand which was now ever so slightly moist with forehead sweat. He turned to grab the thermometer only for Taehyun to shove it into his hands having already grabbed it. He poked it into Beongyu’s ears, and waited for the beep. 

Soobin’s eyes widened when the beep finally came, the thermometer read 102.9 degrees.  “Yup, that’s definitely a fever. Go back to bed, I’ll bring in some water and some medicine.” 

Beomgyu didn’t hesitate to get back under the warmth of his comforter.

By now, Yeonjun and Huening Kai had woken up too, and filled in on the situation. Meanwhile, Beomgyu was sound asleep in his bed room. After hours of him sleeping, Yeonjun went in to check on him. Upon entering the room, he was hit by the unmistakable stench of sweat. He tried not to let it show on his face as he tried not to breathe through his nose. 

“Gyu, can you wake up for just a minute so I can take your temperature again?”

Beomgyu made a noise of approval, and without opening his eyes even a crack, he turned over to let Yeonjun insert the thermometer. When the beep came this time, it was found that his temperature had only climbed to 103.3. “Oh god Beomgyu, if this gets any higher it could be dangerous. And it doesn’t seem like the medicine is working much.”

Beomgyu groaned, still refusing to peel open his eye lids. Yeonjun left the room, and Beomgyu hoped that he would stop pestering him about it, but returned moments later with a wet washcloth. He felt the cold relief on hushed forehead. The cool didn’t last that long as the heat radiating of his face easily warmed the washcloth. 

“Okay. I’m gonna come back in to check again in an hour alright?”

Beomgyu was practically asleep already before Yeonjun even finished his sentence.

When Yeonjun came back, he felt bad waking the sleeping boy once again, especially when he looked so adorable when sleeping. He tried to wiggle the thermometer into the boys ears without waking him, barely making it in. In the process, he was disgusted when he felt how the sheets were almost completely soaked in sweat. The thermometer beeped and read 103.7. Yeonjun was flabbergasted at the fever’s ability to continue to grow.

“Beomgyu? Do you think you can take a cool bath or something? Your fever is still rising and we have to get it down.”

He said to the still half asleep Beomgyu.

“But I’m already so cold..” He whined.

“The thermometer says other wise. Sorry. Unless you have a better idea? And while you’re in there I’ll wash your sheets, they’re getting kinda….gross.”

Beomgyu sighed, finally sitting up in his bed. His body ached, longing to lay back down, but he knew it was for the best. He glanced at the clock next tom him on his bed side table, reading the time. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the party??”

“Oh- nah. I don’t think we’re going.”

“Is it because of me? I don’t want to ruin New Year’s” Yeonjun could see Beomgyu’s expression become ridden with guilt.

“Maybe a little. But it’s okay really. It’s the same party every year anyway, nothing we haven’t seen before.”

“Are you sure? You guys can go, I can hold my own.”

“Not like this you can’t. Your fever is crazy. Besides, it will be nice spending New Years in a more relaxed fashion this year.”

Beomgyu accepted that his members would stay to take care of him, and stood to head off to take his bath. He immediately had to sit back down as dizziness washed over him. Yeonjun looked at him with a great deal of concern.

“Just.. dizzy.”

Yeonjun held his hand to hoist him back up and helped him off to the bathroom. Once we was settled in the bath for a bit, Yeonjun went off to throw Beomgyu’s bedding into the wash. 

By the time Beomgyu was done in the bath, the sheets were only just switching to the dryer.

“How bout you bring your pillow and grab one of those christmas blankets and lay on the couch for a bit, while your bedding is in the dryer atleast.”

Beomgyu didn’t care wear he was sleeping as long as he was sleeping. He wrapped himself in a blanket and hobbled to the couch. Kai was already sitting there, scrolling on instagram. He looked up and smiled at the boy burrito in front of him, scooting over to make a place for him. He gratefully layed down across the cushions, his feet hanging off the edge ever so slightly. Kai scooted Beomgyu’s head into his lap and ran his fingers through his wet hair. They stayed like that for the next couple of hours, waiting to bring in the new year. The rest of the group started to file into the room as the clock ticked closer to midnight. They didn’t have any champagne laying around so they poured some ginger ale, close enough. They tried to stay as quiet as they could as to not wake the sleeping Beomgyu beside them.

“ten… nine…. eight…. seven….”They whispered, “six…. five…. four…. three…. two…. one.”

“HAPPY NEW YEARS!!” they said, maybe a bit too loudly.

“Shhhh!” Soobin hissed.

They go quiet. But it’s still not silent, as fireworks have started to burst outside the window. Beomgyu started to stir, his hands instinctively moving to his ears. Kai, being the closest person to Beomgyu, noticed tears rolling down his face, probably the fever messing with his emotions.

“Guy, what’s the matter?”

“The fireworks hurt my head.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. I’m sure they’ll be over soon?” he tried. But it was not helpful to calm the crying boy.

Taehyun shot up from his seat, dashing to his room, returning with his soundproof headphones in hand. He swiftly maneuvered them over Beomgyu’s ears.

“Better?”

No response.

“Guess they must be working.”Yeonjun giggled.

“Well, that’s one way to start off the new year.” Taehyun teased.

[tails89]

Been up all night (and the night before)

911 - 3.5k

His parents leave. There’s disappointment, sure. Buck had really thought that things were changing. He’d really thought that maybe, finally, his parents wanted to be around. There’s also relief, because he finally has his apartment to himself again. Finally it’s quiet. Finally he can sleep.

Finally posting my whumptober insomnia fic 😊

Read on ao3 or below

After the lightning strike, Buck can’t sleep.

While he’s still at the hospital, he blames it on the noise— the constant rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and the distant echo of alarms. The painkillers he’s on makes him groggy and nauseated, and he’s too uncomfortable to do more than doze in snatches between the next round of tests of vitals.

Buck lets his parents bundle him into their car, too tired to argue that he doesn’t need them to stay with him. It’s not worth the energy anyway. They’ll probably get sick of him soon enough. They always do.

Shuffling into the apartment, Buck lets Maddie nudge him towards the single armchair in the middle of the room.

“God, this apartment. Such a bachelor pad,” his mom laughs. “You don’t even have a couch. We’ll have to go shopping.”

The words are spoken like a joke but Buck can read between the lines. Notgoodenoughnotgoodenoughnotgoodenough. He nods along anyway, sagging against Maddie when she perches on the arm of the chair.

“Are you hungry?” his mom asks, poking her nose into his kitchen cupboards. “I’ll make you something.” 

“Not really.” 

“Mom, leave him alone.” Maddie runs her fingers through his hair just like she did when he was a kid. “Buck, why don’t you go upstairs and lie down for a while.”

Buck reaches for his sister's hand and gives it a grateful squeeze before slowly easing himself back out of the chair.

“You guys don’t have to say,” he says, his words falling on deaf ears. “I’m probably just going to sleep.”

“Nonsense,” his mom tuts at him, her hands on her waist. “We want to be here, Evan. Oh, I know. I’ll cook you something to eat when you wake up.”

“Uh—” Buck falters, unused to the attention. “Okay.” He glances at Maddie, eyes wide, begging for help.

“There’s a grocery store down the street,” Maddie says, picking up the hint and herding their parents towards the front door. “I’ll stay with Buck while you go get some things for lunch.” 

“That’s a wonderful idea, Maddie,” their mom collects her handbag from the counter. “Oh, Philip, we could look at furniture while we’re out.”

The door swings shut and Buck sags against the side of the armchair. 

‘Thank you.”

Maddie grins. “That will buy you at least an hour.”

Buck slowly shuffles over to the foot of their stairs. God, were they always that high?

“It’s not too late to come back to my place,” Maddie tells him gently. “Or Bobby’s, I know he offered. I bet Eddie offered too.”

They did, and Buck turned them all down. 

“I just want to sleep in my own bed, Maddie.”

“Okay.” She raises her hands in surrender. “But at least let me help you upstairs.”

It’s slow going, and Buck’s almost regretting his decision by the time he makes it to his bed. He’s out of breath, legs shaking from a trip he normally does without thinking, and he refuses to think about how he’s going to get back down again.

But that’s a problem for future Buck.

He doesn’t bother changing (he’s already wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt that may or may not actually belong to Eddie. He’s not sure how it got into his things but he’s not complaining) Buck just toes off his sneakers and sinks into bed.

After spending so much time in the hospital, his own bed feels heavenly. He can almost ignore all the other aches and pains that have followed him home.

Buck closes his eyes and lets himself drift. 

He can hear Maddie moving around downstairs. Outside, a siren echoes in the distance. 

A dog barks.

A car backfires.

Buck’s eyes shoot open. 

He’s not sure how long he lies there. At some point he hears his parents return, his mom’s voice echoing through the open plan apartment. There’s a scrape of furniture being dragged and more voices. 

Giving up on sleep, Buck reaches for his phone. The movement aggravates his aching ribs, the burning sensation helping chase away some of the grogginess. His hands shake— a lingering side effect of the strike— as he unlocks his phone to scroll through the recent notifications.

His phone chips as a new message comes through.

Eddie: Hope you’re settling in ok. Let me know if you need anything.

Buck hits the call icon before he can give himself the chance to overthink it.

“Hey.” Eddie’s voice is low and slightly tinny over the connection. “How’d everything go this morning?”

“It was fine,” Buck says, dragging a hand down his face. “I think Mom’s already redecorating the apartment.”

“She’s what?”

“She doesn’t like my furniture.” Buck drops his voice to a whisper to prevent being overheard.

“She doesn’t have to like it,” Eddie says. “It’s not her furniture.”

Eddie’s made no secret of the fact that he doesn’t like Buck’s parents. Buck doesn’t blame him. Eddie’s only seen the bed. They really seem to be trying though, doesn’t Buck owe it to them to give them a chance?

He can already imagine Eddie’s response to that.

Shifting, Buck tries to get comfortable. His meds are wearing off, and the ache in his ribs is beginning to thrum in time with his heart beat. It’s weird to think that for a long six minutes, his heart didn’t beat at all… so he doesn’t think about it.

“You still there?” Eddie asks, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.”

“How are you doing?” There’s a beat, then, “be honest.”

Buck sighs. “I’m tired.”

“Still not sleeping well?”

“Everything’s just— it’s a lot.” His dreams feel too real, but he doesn’t say that part out loud.

“The offer still stands,” Eddie says. “I can be there in twenty minutes.”

Buck smiles. Eddie lives a good half hour away.

“You think staying with you and Chris will be quieter?”

“Probably not.” Buck can hear the amusement in his voice. “But we promise not to rearrange your furniture. So…?”

Yes, he thinks.

“I can’t,” he says. 

Eddie’s quiet long enough that Buck has to check he hasn’t disconnected the calls.

“Okay,” Eddie says, finally. “But if you change your mind, call me.”

He ends the call and Buck can’t help but feel like he’s lost something.

-

His parents leave.

It doesn’t come as a surprise when they tell him two days after he’s out of the hospital that it’s time to go home. The surprise is that they lasted this long.

There’s disappointment, sure. Buck had really thought that things were changing. He’d really thought that maybe, finally, his parents wanted to be around. 

There’s also relief, because he finally has his apartment to himself again.

Finally it’s quiet.

Finally he can sleep.

Except that he doesn’t. Or, when he does, it’s in snatches, dreaming of those he couldn’t save. 

He spends his first night alone sleeping on the new couch. He’d tried to climb the stairs on his own and been so out of breath that he’d had to sit down halfway up. His legs had been shaking so bad he wasn’t sure he’d get himself down again. 

He doesn’t try the stairs again, resigning himself to spending at least a few days on the uncomfortable couch his mom had insisted on buying.

(He hasn’t been this grateful to have a downstairs toilet since he obliterated his leg.)

On top of that, people keep coming over.

It starts with Bobby. 

“Jeez, you’re supposed to look better when you get out of the hospital, kid,” Bobby remarks when Buck opens the door. “Not worse.”

“What are you doing here?” It comes out much harsher than intended but Buck doesn’t have the energy to correct himself. There’s a headache that’s been building behind his eyes since the early hours of the morning, and he’s so tired he can barely think straight let alone hold a conversation.

“I heard you were on your own.” Bobby steps past Buck to set his bags down in the kitchen. He turns to look Buck over. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You only got out of the hospital a few days ago.”

“Yeah, well Maddie had to go back to work,” Buck shrugs, easing down onto a stool by the counter. Everything aches today, and he can’t remember if he took his meds this morning or if that hazy memory is from yesterday. All the days seem to blur into one.

“I thought your parents were staying with you.”

“They left.” Buck props his head on his hands, watching Bobby pull different ingredients from his bag. 

“What about appointments?” Bobby asks, frowning. “Don’t you have a bunch of follow-ups this week? You’re not cleared to drive.”

He’s not cleared for a lot of things. 

Can’t drive. Can’t exercise. Can’t sleep. God, he wants to sleep. 

“Uh—” Buck tears his eyes away from the little gathering of condiments to glance at Bobby. “Sorry, I missed—”

“When was the last time you slept?”

Buck frowns. 

“This morning?” He thinks it was this morning. “I had a nap.” And he’d woken gasping for breath, the ghost of his brother standing over him (“Spare parts and they were defective”).

“When was the last time you got proper, actual sleep, Buck?”

Buck scrubs a hand through his hair. The headache that had just been annoying before flares, bringing with it a wave of nausea that Buck swallows.

“What do you want me to tell you, Bobby?”

“The truth.” Bobby sets down his knife. “Asking for help is not a weakness. You don’t have to do this on your own.”

Buck’s eyes burn. “I’m fine.”

Bobby watches him for a long time as the silence stretches between them, and Buck shifts, fidgeting under the heavy weight of Bobby’s gaze (“Bobby Nash is dead”).

“This’ll probably take a while,” Bobby says, finally, and he nods towards the food he’s prepping. “Why don’t you take another nap while I make us some lunch.”

And like a coward, Buck takes the out. 

-

Buck goes through his days on autopilot. 

Maddie visits around her shifts. Hen and Chimney drop in. Buck spends more than one night picking at Bobby’s cooking. 

They fuss over him and he hates it. 

He turns down their offers of assistance and gets himself to his follow-up appointments where the cardiologist, pulmonologist and neurologist who all go on about how lucky he is to be alive and how well he’s continuing to improve. 

He’s breezing through the tests and no one suspects a thing—

“Before you go, I just wanted to ask, have you thought about talking to someone?”

“Uh—” Buck falters, the pathway between his mouth and his brain just completely shutting down. “I don’t— it’s not—” 

“What you went through was traumatic,” the cardiologist continues, “for anyone. And a lot of my patients find it really helpful in processing what happened.”

“I— I see stuff like this all the time,” Buck stammers. “I don’t—”

His doctor shrugs. “Seeing it is one thing, experiencing it is another thing entirely.”

“I’m fine.” Maybe if he says it enough times it’ll stick. I’mfineI’mfineI’mfine.

He escapes back out into the waiting room and pulls out his phone to call an UBER back to his apartment.

-

“Hey, wake up. We’re here.”

Buck digs his palms into his eyes until his vision goes white and the image behind his eyelids fades. Blinking to clear the spots, he stares out the window.

“This isn’t my place.”

“Well this is the address you gave me.”

Buck pulls his phone out of his pocket to check, and yeah, this is the address he’d booked the UBER for, but he doesn’t remember typing it.

“C’mon man, I can’t sit here all day.”

“Right, uh— sorry.” Buck climbs out of the car and makes the short walk up the driveway only to hesitate by the front door. 

This is stupid.

He should just call another UBER and go back to his apartment.

He should—

“Buck?” The door swings open. “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh—” he fidgets with the strings of his hoodie. “I didn’t mean to,” he starts. “I just— I didn’t—” Buck blows out a long breath. “Is your offer still open?”

“Always.” Eddie smiles, stepping aside so Buck can enter. “I’m just making lunch but you can hang out with Chris while I finish up.”

Wordlessly, Buck follows Eddie through to the living room on legs that suddenly feel shaky. 

“Hey Buck.” Chris glances up from the game he’s playing on the TV.

“Hey.” The word comes out in a choked breath because they’re here. They’re right here.

And logically, Buck knows they were never gone but every time he closes his eyes he hears the echoes of another life.

(“You’d be angry too if you lost your kid”.)

(“Can you help me find my dad?”)

“You wanna play?” Chris holds up the spare controller.

“Why don’t you put a movie on?” Eddie suggests, and Chris grumbles that he just started the campaign.

“s’fine.” Buck waves them both off, easing down into his usual spot on the couch and sighing as he sinks into the cushions. 

He lets his eyes fall closed, feeling the couch shift as Chris resumes his game and the soft footfalls of Eddie returning to the kitchen. The soft sounds wrap around him, comforting and familiar,  and it’s reassuring to know that Buck could call his name and Eddie would be there.

“Buck, come on. You can’t sleep here.”

There’s a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake and Buck groans. God, he’d been so close.

“I know.” The hand on his shoulder skates down his arm, fingers curling around his wrist. “But your ribs will thank me later.”

The hand on his wrists tug, but Buck doesn’t want to move, he doesn’t want to wake from this new dream— he never dreams about Eddie anymore, he’s always gone. 

“I’m right here.” 

He’s on his feet and there’s a hand on the small of his back, guiding.  

“Sit.”

He’ll do anything to keep Eddie from disappearing again (“I’m not going anywhere”) so he sits, and his shoes are tugged off his feet. 

The sheets smell like Eddie.

“Good night Buck.”

Finally, Buck sleeps.

He doesn’t dream.

-

At one point Buck thinks he hears Eddie.

“I don’t know. I don’t think he’s sick, he doesn’t have a fever.”

A hand sweeps across his forehead, and into his hair before retreating.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s been sleeping.”

Buck doesn’t catch the response, already sinking back into the depths of sleep.

“Thanks Maddie. I’ll let you know.”

-

Buck has no idea where he is. 

He blinks up at the unfamiliar ceiling, mentally trying to retrace his steps but the last week is a blur of people and places— some real and some imagined.

He stretched, biting back a low groan. When was the last time he took his meds? 

Buck feels like he’s been hit by a bus, still groggy with sleep and aching from lying in the same position for so long. It would be so easy to just go back to sleep, but his bladder is demanding his attention so he eases up to look around the room.

Eddie’s room.

Oh.

The bathroom is his first stop on his slow shuffle out of the room. He’s finishing up, washing his hands in the sink when he catches his reflection in the mirror. 

He stands there for a long time, scrubbing at his face like he can rinse away the dark smudges beneath his eyes.

God, no wonder everyone keeps asking if he’s okay. 

With a long sigh, Buck lets his hands drop. It’s not like Eddie hasn’t already seen him at his worst— though this feels like a new low point.

He follows the sounds echoing down the hall to find Eddie in the kitchen, packing Chris’ lunch.

“I thought I heard you moving around,” Eddie says, looking up. “You sleep well?”

Nodding, Buck leans against the counter. “What time is it?”

“Uh, seven.” Eddie glances over at the clock on the wall. “You missed dinner, but I saved you some in the fridge.”

“I slept all afternoon?” 

“And some,” Eddie tells him. “You’ve been here since yesterday.”

“I slept a whole day?”

“You looked like you needed it.” Eddie sets down the sandwich he’s making to face Buck. “You still look like you need it.”

Buck lowers himself gingerly onto one of the bar stools. He can’t remember the last time he slept through the night, let alone an entire day.

“Maddie drops off some of your things. Meds, a change of clothes.”

“She did?”

“Yeah, hang on.”

Eddie leaves the kitchen, returning a moment later with a bottle that rattles as he sets it down on the counter.

“I’ll heat some leftovers so you’re not taking them on an empty stomach.”

Buck opens his mouth to say he’s not really hungry, but then his stomach rumbles and for the first time in days, he actually kind of is. 

Eddie sets the plate on the counter with a glass of water. He doesn’t hover, which Buck appreciates. He finishes packing Chris’ lunch and moves on to cleaning up the kitchen while Buck slowly eats.

It’s not until he’s finished and his plate is in the dishwasher that Eddie turns to Buck and asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Buck swallows and looks away. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

From the corner of his eye he watches Eddie nod and lean back against the sink, folding his arms across his chest.

“Last year,” Eddie starts slowly, like he’s choosing his words carefully, “when things got bad, I kept telling everyone - and myself - that I was fine. The worse things got, the more I pushed those feelings down until they had nowhere else to go.”

Buck can’t help himself. He glances up, looking right into Eddie’s watching gaze.

“And well, you saw how spectacularly that blew up.”

And Buck had been there for the fall out, spending days camped out on the couch in case Eddie or Chris needed him. He still gets chills remembering Chris’ panicked phone call, and the fear of not knowing what he might find on the other side of Eddie’s bedroom door.

And maybe, of all people, Eddie understands.

“You haven’t been okay for months,” Eddie continues. “Talk to me.”

Buck chews on his lip, his stomach churning. 

“Do you remember anything?” he asks, hiding his shaking hands in his lap. “From when you were shot?”

“Not really,” Eddie shrugs. “I remember going to work, going out to see that kid—“

“I remember all of it,” Buck cuts in. “I remember your blood on my face. I remember crawling under the truck and not knowing if you were alive. I remember you bleeding out and you were asking me if I was okay.” He laughs, still unable to believe it. “I remember thinking I was going to lose you.”

He wipes his face, surprised by the wetness on his hands. 

“You didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” Buck agrees. “But that doesn’t stop me from thinking about the what ifs. It doesn’t stop me from running the worst case scenarios over and over in my head.”

“Buck—”

“And I keep having this dream,” Buck tells him, the words spilling from him in a torrent that can’t be stopped. “Daniels alive, and Bobby’s dead and Maddie’s there but she’s still with Doug. And you—”

“Where am I?”

“You’re not in it.” Buck wipes his face again. “You just— you’re not there and you lost Chris and I— I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t save anyone.”

“Buck—“

“And I know it’s not real. I’m not that full of myself to think you’d have lost Chris if I hadn’t introduced you to Carla.” 

“Buck.” Eddie moves around the counter to stand directly in front of him, his hand on Buck’s shoulder, pulling him back from the brink. “I’m sorry.”

“I feel like I lose you every time I close my eyes.”

Eddie sighs, so close Buck can feel it in his hair. It sends a shiver down his spine. 

“I don’t remember being shot,” Eddie says. “But I’ll never forget the night you died.”

Buck’s next breath catches in his throat.

“And you did save us,” Eddie insists, crowding in closer. “You saved Chris in the tsunami. You saved me from myself and you were there when I needed you.” His voice drops low. “You were always there, and I didn’t even see it until I lost you for three minutes and seventeen seconds.”

“I came back.” Buck lets out a shuddering breath. “But I don’t know what to do next.”

“You keep living,” Eddie tells him softly. “But first, you take another nap.” Lips twitching, he reaches a hand to smooth away the dark smudges beneath Buck’s eyes. It feels nice and Buck finds himself leaning into the touch. “And then tomorrow we can figure out the rest.”

[shmowder]

Piercing anon back again! I’ll admit my thoughts on Clara were 100% inspired by the fact as a teenager around her age I myself did my own piercing which ended about as well as one would expect it to end. Also didn’t even think of artemy with pierced ears but now I will never get it out of my brain and I shall consider it canon modern au artemy wears a single one in the right ear.

Speaking more on Daniil “prunde” dankovsky he also strikes me as the type who if someone he was with romantically had piercings he’d roll his eyes and go “well I guess they look acceptable on you” but I feel like he’d only really give that pass to minor piercings like a nose ring or maybe at the extremest snake bites but anything more crazier and he’s back to prudevsky mood. Not piercing related but I could see Clara in a modern setting where it’s possible doing stick and poke tattoos as well maybe I’m projecting a tad bit of Clara, I could also see Eva having a tattoo or two possibly but having since gotten them covered up or they just weren’t in a visible spot to even begin with.

sorry for rambling none of my friends aren’t in Patho and I have to let someone know about my in depth headcanons over this subject sorry 😭

PLEASE DO RAMBLE, PLEASE I BEG I WANNA HEAR MORE.

I mean really, you're apologising for rambling on the pathologic rambling blog? That's literally all I do in here. I absolutely love listening to what other people's ideas, and endlessly talking about my own.

God Artemy with a single earring is going to be the death of me, oh my god Artemy with a septum piercing. Just Artemy in general with any piercing... Artemy with a belly button piercing someone please take me to the back of the store and shoot me.

What kind of earring would he wear? Maybe a handmade one by the kin where it's weaved from swyrve and dried plants? maybe one in the shape of the steppe letters? since the Kin clothes ingame do use the letters as a print for their clothes. It could even be one his mother used to wear and Isidor kept save in a box as a memory, planning to give it to Artemy when he finally gets the Menkhu role.

Or maybe an earring that Murky and Sticky made for him from clay, dried rose petals and colourful stones. The options are so many.

And the right ear too 👀 That is so clever. Do you know who else would wear subtle queer signals? Yuilia. She would 100% have a single earring in her right ear. Prude Dankovsky even complains about her wearing pants and dressing like a man, which was uncommon for the type period.

Artemy probably picked up on the meaning from his days in the army where homosexaulity was more of an open secret between men. Daniil definitely knows the meaning but doesn't want to pierce his ears in order to wear one, he definitely uses other signals instead.

Prude Daniil definitely has some suppressed fantasies about piercings and tattoos, which make him seem disgusted by the notion. I'm just saying Daniil getting a glance at Artemy's belly button piercing or seeing your periced nipples poking under your thin shirt is all that it would take for him to see piercings under a new light.

When it comes to tattoos, I think Peter would be the best at giving them. I mean they still get infected, that man cares not for medical hygiene, but they look absolutely amazing at least.

The Kin might prefer non permanent tattoos. Something made from clay that stains the skin for a long while but washes out after a month or so, like henna! Artemy can give tattoos, but his art skils are worse than a 6y old attempting to write their name with a dry marker on a board for the whole class.

Eva would definitely want a matching tattoo with you, Andrey would, too. Maria wouldn't want it on her own body but she'll definitely get a rush from seeing her name tattooed on yours.

I like to think Alexander Saburov got a tattoo when he was a teenager that he is very embarrassed about and got removed while he was in the Capital, he denies that fact whenever an old person in town recalls the story of how angry his mother was the day she found out.

I think Nina had a tattoo, like a spider or a snake. But she kept convered up.

Aglaya probably has one too but not a willing tattoo? More like the inquisition symbol permanently marked somewhere on her back or arm. It's a very tiny symbol with a serial number. This symbol yk? Or it could be on her chest, directly on top of her heart.

Maybe in meta reality, it's her doll's brand and production number, and the only reason hers show on her body is because she is aware she is a doll. So the other's can't see it, much like they can't see how the whole town is made out of sand.

For Clara's stick and poke services, I see her being actually decent at art. Her lines are confident and it goes much smoother than her DIY piercing business. She does small doodles of animals mostly, the souls n half love it and ask for tattoos of their other halves aka pets.

You'd expect she gets busted a second time when one of the angry mothers drag her kid to Katerina Saburova to complain about what Clara did to her angel child. Except Katerina just asks Clara for a tattoo of her own, a small spider on her ring finger.

Capella 100% asks her for a tattoo of a butterfly or an infinitely symbol, any hipster tattoos you could think of.

Khan is... Khan is too scared of needles to ask for one. So he forbids the whole of dogheads from getting any.

[aajjks]

TC!dad!JK

that was unexpected. the last time you and jungkook kissed was a few days ago yet it feels like forever since you’ve felt his lips on yours. you two aren’t even in the emotional place to be kissing one another but does jungkook care? not at all. despite all that shit that has transpired within the past week, he’s still kissing you with so much love and desire because he’s desperate for your touch. you can tell by the way his arms wrap securely around your waist and hold you close.

it all feels so sweet. his arms around you and the kiss until he brings up jackson and whispers “Yn be aware of the gardener boy because he’s up to something”

jackson? you doubt it. he’s been so kind to you and even suggested a way for you to the drama surrounding jungkook and asami but you’re glad you trusted your gut and asked instead of leaving. “Never betray me yn” jungkook says “Because that will be the day I die”

“jungkook, don’t say that. YOU better not betray ME. if i’m stuck here like you say i am then i expect loyalty just like you do. if you don’t trust me then just let me go”

jackson can’t believe what he’s hearing right now. you made up with him? with the man that doesn’t hesitate to call you out your name and disrespect you? do it makes jackson wonder what is it about jungkook that makes you gravitate towards him despite all the things he’s done to you.

children cannot mend a damaged relationship, so it can’t because of jinseoul. you guys haven’t had sex for basically a year now and that’s probably because he can’t please you correctly.

so what is it?

“hey” calls jisung. “aren’t you supposed to be doing maintenance in the garden? quit poking your nose around and get to work”

jackson clenches his jaw before pulling away from the mahogany door and heading to the opposite side of the palace where the garden is located.

‘dammit’ he curses mentally. ‘great. i won’t be able to hear what he said but i’m sure you pissed him off’

~���

Of course, he’s never going to betray you and he’s not even mad that you said it because of course you should expect loyalty from your partner.

And now that you have reassured him, that you are never going to betray him, he will rather die than to ever ever cheat on you. “Yn I promise I’ll never cheat on you. I love you so much… can’t you feel my heart?” He takes your hand and places it on his chest. You can feel his heart. “this heart beats for you.” it’s so loud.

He’s all yours. He’s always going to be yours.

You definitely blush at his comment and action, and he feels himself melting. “Aw yn.” He coos, “okay well can you please scream at me, so everyone can hear that you’re angry at me?” He whispers in your ear.

Because the acting starts now. “I know you’ve always wanted to do it, so take the opportunity.” he winks at you.

____

It’s the seventh day now since he has sent the letter, and you guys have been really good at pretending to hate each other, especially you.

Everyone is so concerned about the kings and queens relationship. But More than concern? there is happiness in the palace, because the consorts and concubines still hate your guts.

And someone is also really happy.

Can you guess? Yes, it’s Jackson.. because you’re about to leave your pathetic excuse of a husband- oh, he can tell. He hears you both fighting every night. You curse at him like your life depends on it- and it’s the best thing to ever hear.

But in a way he relates to jungkook because he’s so obsessed with you- even though Jackson is sure that he loves you more than Jungkook ever could.

And he can do anything to have you- he is planning something, but how is it going to come to fruition because Jisung… is always watching him.

fortunately, for him, someone else is going to remove the obstacle in his way of having you, yes, that’s right- the Empress of Yamato is going to be here today

And as expected Jungkook is not thrilled at all. He’s sitting in his office really concerned because he has no idea what that old witch wants. You are in your bedroom with Jinseoul.

Oh, he misses you and his child so much.

Just as he’s sitting in his office, looking through the papers like always, there is a knock on his door..

“Come in.”

He hasn’t been interacting much with Asami- he is really concerned about her mother. “what is it?”

“the Empress of Yamato is here Your Majesty. Her carriage, it has been spotted near the kingdom.”

[kormenhq]

Have some fic dialogue prompts

All of these prompts are from Pinterest and other tumblr posts. If you want to use any of these in your requests, just tell me which section and what number it is!

FLUFF PROMPTS

1. "I think I might be falling in love with you."

2. "Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day."

3. "Mmm... You're warm."

4. "You're so cute when you're half asleep like this."

5. "I've had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with."

6. "No, you can't get up! You're my prisoner for today."

7. “Your hair is really soft after you wash it.”

8. “Shh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

9. “You smell really nice.”

10. “Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”

11. “If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.”

12. “Here, let’s share the blanket.”

13. “You are my new pillow.”

14. “But I want to hear you sing.”

15. “We can talk over dinner.”

16. “Star-gazing was a good idea.”

17. “I think I love you.”

18. “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

19. “Shush and go back to bed.”

20. “How about a kiss?”

21. “I’ve missed this.”

22. “It’s too cold! Come back!”

23. “No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.”

24. “C’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working.”

25. “I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.”

26. "I wanted to see you again."

27. "I thought 'If I just follow the rules, everything's gonna be fine.' And then you came along and pushed me off that path."

28. "You never cease to amaze me."

29. "I have to hand it to you, you certainly know how to make a statement."

30. "I plan to get to know you."

31. "You have something in your hair, umm... Do you want me to get it out?"

32. "No, like... It's just, I can't believe you're actually wearing my clothes."

33. "Would it be too cliche if we matched clothes a little?"

34. "I really love holding you, darling."

35. "Wanna, like- I mean, if you're not busy... We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don't have a lot of time?"

-

FUNNY PROMPTS

1. “Where are you going?” “Hell, most likely.”

2. “Where’s your crazy boyfriend?” “Probably doing crazy things.”

3. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” “And I’m trying to subtly avoid it!”

4. “Are you decent?” “Not morally, but I’m wearing pants, if that’s what you’re asking.”

5. “Why aren’t you dating him?” “Because I’d destroy him.” “He’d be into that.”

6. “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?”

7. “This is why we can’t have nice things.”

8. “You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?”

9. “Are you drunk?”

10. “Excuse me for freaking out, I only thought you were dead!”

11. “You’re gonna have to limp faster than that…”

12. “You whine about scratches but you don’t let out a peep when you’ve got a gaping wound! The hell is wrong with you?”

13. “I wouldn’t have done that if I knew you were hurt!”

14. “Is the fever getting to you or what?”

15. “Surprise! I’m back from the dead! Isn’t that exciting?”

16. “Can you hold this for me?” “No, I can’t. In case you didn’t know, not everybody has super strength.”

17. “I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”

18. “You think I’m dumb enough to fall for that stupid move?”

19. “It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion.”

20. “Go buy a personality.”

21. “Go to Hell.” “And leave you here all alone?”

22. “Are you sober?” “I’m moderately functional.” “I’ll take that as a no.”

23. “What do you know about it?” “More than you, apparently.”

24. “You’re not my favorite person today.” “I’m not your favorite person on any day.”

25. “You’re insane!” “I know! Isn’t it great?”

26. “Is it still murder if I give them a heads up?” “That’s called a threat.” “Damn.”

27. “You interrupt my reading once more, and this book will become a lethal weapon.”

28. “Kiss me, you twat.”

29. “Take my hand.” “No!” “Look, I’m not trying to ask you to marry me, I’m trying to save your life!”

30. “Just pretend to be my date.”

31. “They did it.” “No, they did.”

32. “It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.”

33. “Shit, we’re gonna die.” “Now, I don’t wanna hear that negative attitude. Look on the bright side!” “Yay, we’re gonna die! Wooo!”

34. “If you do that again, I’ll throw you out that fucking window you- what are you doing?” “Checking how high the drop is, see if it’s worth it.”

35. "It's cute that you tried to protect me and all, but you're like a foot shorter than me, you know?"

36. "You can touch my hair, but don't mess it up!"

-

HURT/COMFORT PROMPTS

1. "Look, I know we don't know each other that well, but I'm still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone."

2. "If I could, I would kiss away all of your scars."

3. "It's not bad to cry. In fact, I think it makes a person stronger."

4. "Shhh, it was just a bad dream. Just a dream, okay? None of it was real."

5. “You know I’m/we’re always here for you, right?”

6. “Please talk to me about it.”

7. “Do the universe a favor: don’t hide your magic.”

8. “You’re trembling.”

9. “You’ve got to calm down before I can fix you up, okay?”

10. “I don’t know what’s wrong, okay? I’m just… really tired.”

11. “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

12. “No, no - it’s alright, come here.”

13. “I’m not going to leave you. You’re never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise.”

14. "There's nothing to be ashamed of."

15. "May I? Free of charge."

16. "If anything were to happen to you..."

17. "I thought I'd see how you were doing."

18. "I'll leave if you ask me to."

19. "You watch the people you care about age and die."

20. "When things get crazy, don't push me away."

21. "No, don't do that it's not safe."

22. "You're scared of that, aren't you?"

23. "I will always step in between you and something like that."

24. "Why? Because I don't want you to get hurt, that's why!"

25. "You can tell me whatever you want... Even if you don't have a reason to."

26. "Please stay. I'd like some company."

27. "Would you pet my hair?"

28. "I just want to be close to someone for a little bit. Is that okay?"

29. "Can I lay my head in your lap?"

30. "Here, lay down in my lap."

31. "You can't keep it all inside, you know? Bottling it up won't do any good."

[makeusfly]

More Light Than Heat, Epilogue

All That We Are is the Greatest of Victories

previous chapter

read on AO3

masterpost

Next Summer

Phineas turned his head on a swivel to scan the incoming crowd, tapping out a rhythm on his knee with his fingertips.  When the beat had run its course, he began to bounce his leg.

Ferb read his book.

“How are you sitting still right now?”

Ferb met his gaze for just long enough to raise an eyebrow at him before turning back to his book.

“Isabella!”

The book thumped against the floor as Ferb sprung from his seat, eyes wide.  After a second, during which he didn’t see her anywhere, he realized what his brother had done and glared at him.

Phineas smirked, too smug to be cowed.  “I knew it.  You’re just as excited to see her as I am.”

“Of course I am; I just don’t fidget about it,” he replied, poking him in the ribs.

From behind them, a warm voice enveloped them like incense.  “My boys.

They turned to face her with matching grins, Ferb opening his arms to embrace her.  Phineas ducked under his wingspan and scooped her up for himself.  They pivoted enough so that they could both see Ferb’s What the hell? gesture

“Sorry, bro - if you get her first, you won’t let go, and there’s no way I’m giving up Isabella hugs just because you’re the boyfriend.”

She met his eye, smiling apologetically despite her he’s not wrong shrug.  Letting her eyes drift closed, she sighed, “I’ve missed you, Phin.”

“I missed you too!  I told Ferb we should visit.”

“We’ve all been pretty busy - and your method might have caused an international incident.”

“Fine.  Just one more year before it’s you, me, Ferb and the Pacific Ocean.”

“We probably won’t be right on the ocean, Phin,” Ferb reminded him, squeezing his shoulder.

“All right, all right.”  He squeezed Isabella one more time before pulling away.

She immediately reached for Ferb, wrapping her arms around his waist.  He took her face gently in his hands and kissed her forehead.  Enveloping her shoulders, he whispered, “Welcome home, love.”

Sighing contentedly, she settled her cheek against his chest, only lifting it to call after Phineas.

“Where are you going?”

He paused, turning around to say, “You can cuddle in your car, right?”

"Whose car?” Isabella asked.  “ My car?”

Ferb nodded.  When Isabella kissed him, he could feel her smile against his lips.

“We have to wait for her bags though,” he reminded Phineas.

“Oh, right.”  Casually, he came back to join them, hands in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels.  “You should have just taken the shrink ray.”

“I told you: TSA frowns on anything remotely gun-shaped.”

“Also, technology too advanced for them to understand.”

“That too!  Double no,” she agreed and a buzz echoed off the walls.  “There.  Bags are coming.”

Ferb let go of her to tug the suitcases off the conveyor belt.  He was content to take them both, but Phineas snatched one from him and waved him back to Isabella.  He led the way to the car, Ferb and Isabella following hand in hand.

Phineas talked the entire ride home but scampered off as soon as she shifted into park in her driveway.  Isabella shook her head, smirking fondly.

“Your brother.”

“Your best friend.”

She leaned in to kiss him again, carding her fingers through his hair.  Pulling back reluctantly, she said, “Mom’s probably waiting…  Make out tomorrow?”

He scrunched his nose.

“...Phineas is planning a surprise welcome home party, isn’t he?”

A nod.

“Fine.  We’ll make an appearance, dance a little, and then sneak off to make out.  Cool?”

Another nod, this one far more enthusiastic.

He insisted on bringing her bags inside, even though she tried to tell him they could sit in the trunk a while, and then on carrying them up to her room as she greeted her mother.

“Mija - so good to have you home!”

“Happy to be here.  Are you making tamales?”

“Of course!  They just started so you can nap if you need to.”

“Thanks, Ma, but I miss you!  I’ll make tea and we can-”

“Baby,” she interrupted, smiling gently.  “Go upstairs.”

She pursed her lips, looking at her mother sideways for a minute.  “O…kay…”

Upstairs, the door to her room was slightly ajar - which made sense.  Ferb had brought her bags up, after all.  But it was a little strange that he hadn't emerged yet…

Gently, she pushed the door open, only to see Ferb standing in the center of her room exactly as she left it except that it was covered in sunflowers.

“Ferb…”

“Your mum let me up this morning.”

She quickly clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the inhuman noise it emitted.  Once she felt collected, she said, “You…”  But that was all she managed before she was too choked up to speak.

“I’ll leave you to unpack.  Or…sleep,” he teased, leaning down to press a brief kiss to her hairline.  “Your mother invited me to dinner, if that’s all right.”

Isabella yawned, her eyelids feeling suddenly, surprisingly heavy.  Slightly dazed, she nodded and kissed him one more time before he let himself out.  Alone, she sat on her bed, taking everything in.  She was sitting there when her mother knocked, smiling at her from the doorway.

“He’s a sweet boy.”

“He is,” Isabella breathed.

“And you’re happy, Izzy?”

It was shocking how quickly her eyes filled with tears as the feeling swelled in her chest.  “I am… so happy, mama.”

With a smile, Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro’s shoulders fell.  “Good.  I’m glad, then.  Dinner’s at seven.  Get some rest, cariño.”

She turned the light off as she closed the door behind her, but midafternoon meant it didn’t make much of a difference, the sun coming through her window warming her skin.  Despite feeling wide awake just a few moments earlier, she yawned, and she laid back just to rest her eyes a moment.

That’s how she fell asleep - bathed in sunlight and surrounded by sunflowers.

the end

[offictionandfandoms]

✎﹏﹏ Rumors Pt. 3

Previous

✑ Pairings: Eddie Munson x f!reader

✑ Word Count: 1074

✑ Requested: Yes/No

✑ Warnings: just pure fluff. Also probably not canon Eddie but…it’s too cute for me to care.

✑ Authors Note: This is the end :( I hope you guys like this bit of fluff and the entire mini-series as a whole. Thank you, again, so much for supporting it and loving it as much as you did. I’m still flabbergasted at how many people enjoyed it. Please know my requests are always open for other series/fics! I’ll be working on some other requests I already have in the meantime.

✑ Gif isn’t mine!

“So what are we going to do?”

Eddie speaking had pulled Y/N back to reality, one where they were sitting next to each other in the cafeteria, hands intertwined on the tabletop, and everyone in the world- well, the school at least- being able to see how happy they both were. /Together/, as they were meant to be.

“Hmmm. What do you mean?” Her cheeks flushed pink as she was caught not paying attention, most of her attention being on playing with the rings on her boyfriend's fingers, which now held an additional one she just purchased for him. It had been a month since everything happened, with them breaking up, and it was all going amazing. As amazing as could be expected when you lived in Hawkins, Indiana and there wasn’t shit to do around town. Which was why she were wanting to go on a trip-

“Well someone spent all their savings on ice cream,” Eddie teased, the cute smile she had fallen in love with forming on his face. It stretched from ear to ear and directly to Y/N’s heart.

“Shove it, I was sad,” she laughed, pulling her hands away from his grip. He wasted no time in grabbing them back, pulling them to his lips to place a few little kisses to her skin. Her heart fluttered at the contact and she leaned closer, almost sitting on his lap. But the principal was still watching them closely and getting expelled wasn’t on her to-do list.

“I know, I know. But now we have to plan something else.”

Her head bobbed in agreement as she fell silent, thinking over all their options. Eddie, her sweet and dedicated boy, hadn’t spent a dime of his savings, much to his credit. Not even when the new Metallica album dropped.

“Why don’t you guys just stay here?”

“Henderson, we can’t just stay-” Eddie started to chastise his young best friend, even throwing a peanut in his direction. But Y/N cut him off, squeezing the one hand she still held in between hers.

“Why not?” The look Eddie gave her was incredulous, but she pressed on, a wide grin passing over her features, “Think about it, babe. We have money to spend on our favorite foods, favorite movies, favorite albums. I say we could even host a DND night. We don’t have to go anywhere to have fun, we can do it right here.”

At the mention of DND night, Dustin poked his head back into the conversation, his grin melting Y/N’s heart. He had quickly become like a little brother to her, much to Eddie’s pleasure. “I vote for a DND night, personally.”

“Henderson!” Eddie snapped, though the crinkle by his eyes was enough to tell Y/N that it was out of love. As he turned back to his girlfriend with a warning glare towards his little buddy, Eddie leaned in closer, lowering his voice an octave, probably to avoid another eavesdropper.

She matched him as she leaned in, squinting her eyes playfully at his antics. If she tilted her head just right, their noses would brush up against each other. It was tempting, especially since it would give a great opening to kiss him. But when her eyes flickered over to the teachers table and she saw their good ole principal eyeing them, she withheld.

“We don’t have to do that. We can figure something out. I know you were looking forward to getting out of town.” As he spoke, his thumb gently caressed the inside of her wrist, sending her pulse into a frenzy. His touch never ceased to make her feel like she was on top of the world.

“I’m certain, babe. I was just looking forward to spending time with you— I don’t care where we are. A campaign night sounds perfect if you're okay with that.” As she spoke, his eyes had dropped towards her lips, his tongue sneaking out to run over the skin of his. But the second she stopped, he stared directly into her eyes, a serious composure taking over his expression.

“You know what sounds perfect?” While he was asking her this, she could feel his hands dip away from her arms, moving to slide around her waist instead. She hummed in response, waiting for him to answer his own question while she leaned closer, not wanting to miss whatever he said. She would do anything to make him happy, even if it meant skinny dipping in Lover’s Lake again.

She soon felt her body leaving the hard plastic seat of the cafeteria table and being replaced with the warmth of his lap, “You.” The kiss he gave her was quick, nothing satisfactory for either of them, and she was quickly trying to lean in for another, onlookers be damned.

But the sound of “Ms. Y/L/N! Mr. Munson!” booming across the room had them both falling apart in a fit of loud laughter, loud enough to put Jason’s goons to shame.

Typically, Y/N would never do anything to get in trouble. And if she ever was in trouble, she would take her punishment with a nod and an apology.

But nothing about her relationship with Eddie Munson had been typical thus far and it wasn’t about to start. So she made quick work of grabbing Eddie’s hand and pulling him behind her as she zig-zagged through students and out into the hallway, the call of their names lost as the cafeteria door swung shut.

They didn’t stop running until they made it to the drama room, both doubling over in laughter until Y/N’s side hurt and she had to sit in Eddie’s DND throne for relief.

Eddie was still laughing as he pointed at her, hand swaying up and down as he motioned over her entire body, “You look good there.”

“Oh, so I’m no longer banished?” She taunted, leaning forward to rest her elbows against the table without a worry in her mind. She knew they would definitely be expelled once they were found, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not right now, not with Eddie leaning on his own elbows to get closer to her, their lips just centimeters apart.

And right before they connected, he whispered words that Y/N would hear ringing in her head for weeks to come: “It’s hard to keep my queen from her rightful throne.”

[superbattrash]

Bruclark Week Day 7: Free Space

Alternative title: The Unspoken Thing

WE DID IIIIIIIIT AND ON TIME TOO. Dear God, remind me to plan stuff like this better next time, alright? Anyway, here’s that merbruce thing I was going to write. It’s loosely based on a piece of art by @katsuyacrimson​ - I’ve been graciously allowed to post the picture with my fic. The art is at the end :)

Bruce’s tail is amazing. It’s an odd mixture of purple and iridescent; so large that the fins could probably cover a small child if Bruce wanted to. Not that he has that kind of control yet obviously, seeing as he’s been a mermaid for less than five minutes at this point. Still, Clark can’t help but stare as Bruce moves the huge tail around experimentally; like he’s trying to get a feel for it despite it being a part of himself. The blues in his tail become visible when he moves it, and they complement his eyes so beautifully. Some are warm, some colder. Some almost violet while others are bright blue, so light they can almost rival Bruce’s eyes in beauty. Almost.

Clark watches as Bruce holds up a hand – his fingertips replaced with sharp little claw-like tips, purple and scale-y just like his tail. So far that’s the only parts of him that have changed but judging from the way his jaw is tightening by the second, it’s more than enough.

He does look rather strange with half the batsuit on and the only exposed parts of him – except his face – being brightly colored. Purple does suit the darkness of the batsuit though, Clark thinks. Not that that’s what he should be focusing on right now, and he is most certainly not going to tell Bruce that that’s what he’s thinking about. He quickly lands on the ground next to Bruce and crouches down. It’s odd, having to sit down to look Bruce in the eyes.

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry,” Clark exclaims for what feels like the hundredths time in the last thirty minutes. He really should have been faster, should have protected Bruce somehow. He’s supposed to be the strong, invulnerable one.

“You’re just as susceptible to magic as the rest of us,” Bruce mutters like that’s an excuse. It sort of is but not a very good one.

“Yes, but-” Clark feels incredibly guilty despite Bruce having thrown himself in front of the beam of his own volition. It doesn’t make him feel any better that Bruce would sacrifice himself for Clark, believe it or not. There’s a reason Superman is on the team. He can handle himself and take a hit.

“Kal, just-” Bruce takes a deep breath and nearly pokes a lens out of his cowl when he tries to pinch the bridge of his nose with his mer-claws. He drops both arms in his lap. Or, where his lap is supposed to be. Is it still called a lap if it’s on a tail? “Shut up.”

“I didn’t see her in time,” Clark explains. He tries to go on but Bruce speaks over him.

“I know, would you just-” Bruce sighs exasperatedly. He’s clearly trying very hard to be patient with Clark, which is nice of him. Too bad it doesn’t make Clark feel any better. “Just go home, alright?”

“I can’t leave you like this,” Clark argues. There is no way he’s leaving Bruce stranded in Metropolis stuck in mermaid form. He wouldn’t leave him even if he still had his own two feet.

“I’ll be fine,” Bruce insists even as he wiggles around to get his tail situated in a way that lets him sit up straight.

Once again, Clark will never voice any of his thoughts out loud. At least not the quieter ones, hiding behind his worry and guilt. It’s just so weird seeing Bruce uncoordinated like this. He’s swaying back and forth like he can’t quite keep his balance.

“How will you even get home?” Clark asks, trying his best not to stare too long at Bruce’s beautiful tail. He’s not doing a very good job of it.

“I’ll figure it out,” Bruce says with an odd shrug. He nearly tilts with the movement. Sitting on a tail is apparently much different than how Bruce usually sits. Which isn’t much when he’s out as Batman.

“Can you even survive outside of water?” Clark bursts out. He knows it’s a stupid question and that he should probably just let Bruce be, but it isn’t in his nature to leave his friends behind. Especially when that friend is Bruce. Clark has never actually had much contact with mermaids but he’s the best Bruce has got right now. Arthur isn’t with them on this mission, which in hindsight is a big mistake, but Hal has already contacted him.  

“Kal,” Bruce says. His voice jolts Clark out of his muddled thoughts.

“What?”

“I’m a mermaid, not an actual fish,” he reminds him. There’s a hint of amusement in Bruce’s voice which is a good sign. He doesn’t usually take the time to laugh at Clark on missions unless he feels safe enough to do so. He shifts on the ground and is back to his usual stern self in less than five seconds though.

“I know,” Clark says. “But-”

“I am talking to you like I’ve always done, Kal,” Bruce says and this time there’s a tinge of annoyance to his voice. “I am still me, just with more-” He looks down at the shimmering purple tail occupying the space where his legs are supposed to be. “Tail,” he ends awkwardly.

“I know.” Clark bites his cheek as he thinks. He doesn’t want to cause Bruce anymore trouble, but he still feels like he needs to help in some way. “What can I do?”

“Just find the witch,” Bruce says.

“I will,” Clark promises with all the conviction he can manage. He’ll look through the entire galaxy if need be. Although he’s pretty sure Diana must’ve caught up to her by now. There’s no way that witch could’ve outrun Wonder Woman.

“I know,” Bruce says and his lips twitch like he wants to smile reassuringly at Clark. It might just be his imagination though.

“Call me if you need me, okay?” Clark says one last time before he stands. He’s not planning on going home until he knows what happened to the witch.

Bruce grunts, which is the closest to a confirmation he’ll give Clark.

--

Four days. It takes four days for someone to reach out to Clark. It’s obviously not Bruce himself who calls, he’s way too stubborn. It wouldn’t be so bad if only he’d had something else to keep his mind occupied but the rest of the League has it covered. Clark caught up with Diana fast enough, but it turned out that the witch did outrun her, which had to be a first for the princess. Not to worry though, Diana has a plan to catch her and sent Clark home. He was of course happy that she knew what to do, but a little disappointed that there’s nothing he can actively do to help her out.

Which is why he’s thrilled to get the call four days later, even if he’s a little concerned that he hasn’t heard anything in from Bruce in four whole days. It’s not like they text every day or anything (well, Clark texts Bruce silly images and updates of his day, which Bruce responds to about half the time), but he’s used to seeing Bruce often. What with his situation he hasn’t even been able to go out as himself, much less as Batman.

Alfred is too dignified to call Clark’s name (the image of Alfred calling “Master Kent” from the balcony makes Clark smile though), despite knowing that Clark would hear him and instead does the rational thing and calls his phone. How Alfred got his number Clark doesn’t know, but he suspects one of the kids might have given it to him. He doesn’t mind, he’s just happy someone called him. He’s been worried sick.

“Master Kent,” Alfred greets him when he arrives at the manor.

“Alfred,” Clark says warmly. It’s always nice being invited into Bruce’s home although he wishes the circumstances were different. He likes it way better when it’s just him, Alfred and Bruce having dinner. Or in reality it’s just Alfred making them dinner and then leaving them to converse amongst themselves. Clark likes spending time with Bruce either way. He’s missed him a lot these past few days. “Good to see you, how are you?”

“I’ve seen better days,” Alfred says honestly but vaguely enough that it feels rude to ask more questions. “And you, sir?”

“I’m alright. Worried about Bruce though. Is he here?” Clark asks despite being able to tell exactly where Bruce is from his heartbeat alone. It’s not like he chooses to listen for it, it’s more habit than anything.

“Very much so,” Alfred nods towards the stairs that lead up to Bruce’s bedroom. “He’s upstairs, sulking.”

“How did you get him up the stairs?” Clark can’t help but ask. He’s not sure who ended up taking Bruce home, but there’s no way he’s crawled up those stairs even if he is ridiculously strong.

“I bribed Master Jason after Master Bruce was knocked unconscious,” Alfred says conversationally. Like it’s a thing that happens often. Clark knows better than to comment on it.

“With what?” Nothing seems to be able to convince Jason to do anything, although if anyone can make Jason do something, it would be Alfred.

“Knocking Master Bruce unconscious,” Alfred says simply.

“Oh.” Yeah, that’ll do it. Clark feels bad for Bruce though. “Is he alright?”

“I wouldn’t call you if all he needed was company, Master Kent. I know you’re a busy man.”

“Oh no, I don’t mind,” Clark is quick to reassure. “I was just wondering what I can do to help.”

“You can make sure he’s still alive in there,” Alfred says and it’s the first time he’s sounded irritated through the whole conversation. Irritated, but also worried.

“What do you mean?” Clark asks.

“He looks like a neanderthal, Master Kent, and he hasn’t come out of his room in several days. He’s not eating, and I doubt he’s able to shower by himself.” Alfred follows him up the stairs.

“Oh, that’s, uh.” Clark doesn’t really know what to say to that. He’s quite sure Bruce wouldn’t want a helping hand taking a shower – much less Clark’s helping hand. There’s this… unspoken thing between them. They’re not supposed to act on it. At least that’s what he’s gathered from Bruce’s grunts and side-glances.

“I cannot carry him myself or I would’ve forced him out already,” Alfred explains. “Never mind the fact that Master Bruce won’t let anyone into his room.”

“Ah, got it.” This Clark can do. This he’s basically made for.

They stop outside Bruce’s bedroom but judging from his heartbeat he hasn’t heard them approaching. He doesn’t sound agitated per se, but there is definitely something off about him.

“He’s locked you out?” Clark asks after he’s jostled the handle.

“Yes.”

“There’s no extra key?” It doesn’t sound like Alfred to give up so easily. Clark knows for a fact that all of Bruce’s children (and Alfred) know how to pick a lock. His own apartment has been the victim of their skills more than once.

“I’m afraid he’s taken them with him. All seven.”

“And?” Clark asks because he knows there’s more to it than that.

“He’s jammed the door from the inside,” Alfred sighs.  

“Ah,” Clark says before looking through the wood to see the chair Bruce has shoved underneath the handle. “Are you very fond of this door?”

“Have at it,” Alfred says with an elegant swoosh of his hand. “But do mind the handle, please. It’s original.”

It’s not exactly hard to break a door when you’ve got Clark’s strength, but the manor does have a very sturdy interior. Clark makes sure to merely knock it off its hinges gently. Or, as gently as one can anyway. He’s pretty sure he’s ruined the chair that was in the way though. Alfred doesn’t seem to mind.

“Best of luck,” he says before leaving Clark to it.

Clark looks around the room. Nothing seems out of place, except for the broken chair and the door in his hands. He rests it gently against the wall; still covering most of the doorway.

“Bruce,” he calls. He knows better than to simply appear by Bruce’s side if he’s barricaded himself in his bedroom. Something must be really wrong.

“What do you want?” Bruce’s speech is slurred and coming from the bathroom. It’s no surprise to him that Clark is here which Clark isn’t sure is a good or bad thing.

“Alfred is worried about you,” he calls out as he approaches the bathroom door. He really hopes he doesn’t have to break this one down. “I am too. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Go away,” Bruce says. There’s movement on the other side of the door; sounds of water moving around. Maybe Bruce has finally decided to try for a shower?

“Bruce, come on,” Clark tries. He doesn’t look through the door in case Bruce really is in the shower but he’s very tempted. Just to make sure Bruce is alright, of course. “Alfred says you’re not eating.”

“I said I’m fine,” comes Bruce’s gruff answer.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Clark says as he makes the decision to ignore Bruce’s personal space. It’s not like it’s the first time anyway. “I’m coming in.”

“Clark, wait, no-”

Clark opens the bathroom door (and is silently glad it wasn’t locked) and steps inside. It smells odd in the room, not unpleasant, but not how it usually smells. Not how Bruce usually smells. Clark looks to the shower but that’s not where Bruce is. He’s in the tub.

And he looks horrible.

No, not horrible, Bruce always looks stunning, but he looks exhausted and like he hasn’t slept in days. Alfred is right; the – from what Clark can tell – four days old stubble on his face is slowly turning into a full-blown beard and it somehow makes him look older than he is when combined with the dark circles under his eyes. There’s water in the tub but barely enough to cover his tail as it lays curled around him. It looks like it’s grown – or spread at the very least. More of Bruce’s waist is covered in scales and he’s even started turning purple near his temples and ears.

“Oh, Bruce,” Clark says, despite knowing how much Bruce hates being pitied. “What happened?”

“It keeps getting worse,” Bruce mutters. He’s keeping his hands under the water, but Clark suspects the scales on his fingers have spread as well.

“And the eating?”

“I can’t hold anything with these damn claws,” he says and finally holds up his hands. It’s not nearly as bad as Clark had anticipated but he can see how it would be tough to hold onto a fork or even a spoon with the slippery scales covering his fingers.

“Why not just ask Alfred to-”

“To what? Feed me?” Bruce interrupts bitterly. “He’s done enough already; I can’t ask him to do that. I can’t ask anyone to do that.”

“Okay, alright, I get it,” Clark says gently but firmly. There’s no reason to push the issue right now. “I’m here now though, so what do you need? What can I do?”

Bruce is quiet for a while and then sighs heavily. Even he’s not stubborn enough to refuse help after what looks like four days in his own tub. His ribs are poking out more than usual and he looks pale where he’s still got human skin.

“I need fresh water, but I can’t turn the knob,” Bruce mutters. “My skin- scales- the tail gets irritated if I’m not in water.”

“Alright, let’s start there,” Clark says.

It takes a little maneuvering, but they manage to move Bruce’s tail from the drain enough that they can let the water out. Bruce can lift the appendix himself now, but it takes a lot of effort, and he looks like he’s about ready to fall over so Clark carefully lifts most of it for him. As soon as the water is out Clark plugs the drain again and opens the faucet.

“Hot or cold?” he asks as he holds a hand under the spray.

“Hot,” Bruce says quietly. He’s huddled together and it makes Clark’s heart ache. Bruce is usually so confident, but he’s been stuck in his bathroom, clearly embarrassed to be seen. How has he even managed to sleep if he’s been in the tub all these days?

Clark fills the tub as much as he dares, making sure it doesn’t splash over the edges even if Bruce moves around.

“Alright,” Clark says as he dries his hands on his pants. “Next up is food. Anything particular you’re in the mood for?”

“Something soft,” Bruce says. He’s scrunching up his nose like the thought of food is making him ill. “My teeth hurt.”

“Your teeth?” Clark stops in the doorway to look at Bruce. He can’t help but x-ray him quickly but there doesn’t seem to be something wrong with his teeth at all. Bruce has excellent teeth. When he looks up again, Bruce is glaring at him. “Right, sorry, something soft, coming right up.”

Alfred is thrilled that Clark not only got Bruce to talk to him but also managed to find a way to make him eat. Something soft is easier said than done but Alfred knows Bruce better than anybody and he’s the fastest cook Clark has ever seen. He’s made a tomato soup by the time they’re finished talking about how Bruce is doing. He hands Clark a small piece of bread as well, because “He can’t survive off liquids, that silly boy.”

It's clear as day that Alfred is worried, but he seems calmer now that Bruce has agreed to eat something. Now the question is how Clark is going to have Bruce actually eat the soup? He takes the tray Alfred has made ready and goes back to the bathroom, where Bruce is resting his chin on the edge of the tub. He looks like he’s about five minutes away from falling asleep, but he bolts upright when Clark enters the room.

“Tomato soup,” he says as he eyes the bowl.

“With bread,” Clark says with a smile as he holds up the small roll. Bruce stares at it like he could eat it straight out of Clark’s hand. Hmm. “Alright, I know you’re going to say no-”

“So don’t say whatever it is you want to say.”

“Shush,” Clark huffs. “I know you’re going to say no, but this is how we’re going to do this, okay? I’ll hold the spoon all you have to do is eat. Are your teeth so bad you can’t swallow?”

“I swallow just fine,” Bruce says and there’s a hint of a smirk on his face that has Clark feel a little faint. It’s that unspoken thing again.

“Alright, okay,” he says and clears his throat. “I’m not going to make you say ahh unless you want me to do the airplane thing.”

“Shut up,” Bruce huffs but obediently opens his mouth when Clark holds the spoon out towards him. He wraps his lips around the spoon and moans.

Clark nearly drops the spoon at the sound. He plays it off as well as he can, but of course Bruce notices. He always notices everything. It’s not like he can blame Bruce for enjoying the first proper meal he’s had in days.

Clark thought it might be odd or awkward to feed Bruce, but they’ve known each other for years and years. They’ve been stuck on alien planets together, fought aliens and super villains. They’ve even had to bandage each other’s wounds, for God’s sake. It’s not like Bruce is eating the soup off of Clark’s naked body.

He really does drop the spoon when that thought runs through his mind.

Bruce sends him a quizzical look but doesn’t comment on it. It’s not like they can’t rinse the spoons off; they’ve got plenty of water nearby. It’s when it comes to the bread that Clark really starts to struggle.

It’s not the whole dipping the bread in what’s left of the soup, it’s the fact that there’s nothing between Clark’s hand and Bruce’s mouth now. He has to breathe through his mouth and pretend like he doesn’t feel his fingers tingle where Bruce’s lips grace them as he bites at the bread. He’s being awfully nice about this whole thing, but Clark suspects he’s just trying to make it as easy on Clark as he can.

There’s no way to explain the flutter in Clark’s stomach those few times Bruce’s tongue accidentally touches his skin. God, he really needs to get it together. When the last piece of bread is gone, he feels both relieved and disappointed. He’s not going to look closer at those feelings right now. First, he has to take care of Bruce.

“Okay,” Clark says, trying very hard to ignore how breathless he sounds. “Next is the beard.”

“What?”

“Alfred isn’t a fan.”

“I’m not surprised,” Bruce shrugs. “It makes me look like my father when was too busy to take proper care of himself.”

“Good to know it’s in your blood,” Clark comments as he puts the bowl and spoon back on the tray. “Now, how do you want to do this?”

“By myself but that’s not really an option,” Bruce grumbles.

“No, it is not,” Clark agrees. “So stop sulking and lean your head back so I can reach your neck.”

It’s not been on Clark’s yearly bingo card that he gets to shave Bruce’s face but he’s not complaining. Or at least he isn’t until he actually has to do it. Even if he hovers in the air, he can’t get the right angle without making Bruce sit in a painful or at the very least awkward position. He can’t very well ask Bruce to leave the tub either even if that would make this easier.

“I can’t really-” he tries. “This isn’t going to work if I can’t- um.”

“Spit it out, Clark,” Bruce says, and Clark does his very best not to look at how his Adam’s apple moves when he speaks. His neck looks so long like this, exposed and vulnerable.

“Can I sit in the tub with you?” Clark asks before he can think too much about it.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just that I think it’ll be a lot easier seeing as you’re more comfortable in water and there isn’t really room for your tail anywhere else and I can’t really- I can’t reach you properly any other way.” He really hopes he sounds more confident than he feels.

“Hm,” Bruce grunts, which... isn’t a rejection. And then Bruce scoots forward in the tub, making room for Clark to sit behind him.

Clark gapes but only for less than a second. Then he strips off his shirt and pants. At Bruce’s raised eyebrow Clark merely smiles. He’s not going to get naked, but he also doesn’t want to leave in soaking clothes. He steps over the edge of the tub and shuffles around until he can sit comfortably behind Bruce. It’s a good thing his tub is so ginormous.

It’s intimate. Odd but not unpleasant. Clark never thought he’d be able to do this, to be this close to Bruce. There’s obviously a reasonable excuse for it now but he still wouldn’t have thought Bruce would allow him to do this; to help like this.

Clark doesn’t actually shave much, himself. He has his heat vision, and he knows how to use it. There’s been a few times where he’s had to use a razor though and he’s happy for the practice now that he has to hold a blade so close to Bruce’s neck.

Bruce, on his part, doesn’t seem to mind at all. His heartrate is steady, his body calm. There’s no physical sign that he’s reacting to their close proximity which leaves Clark both relieved and a little disappointed. It’s the theme of his feelings today, it seems.

“Is this alright?” he asks, because despite being able to read Bruce’s physical response, he still wants to make sure Bruce is comfortable. Or as comfortable as he can be with Clark pressed up against him.

“Yea,” Bruce says softly. “Yes, it’s- it’s fine.”

There’s slight skip to his heartbeat and Clark frowns slightly. He’s not a lie detector; there are many reasons why people’s hearts skip a beat. Embarrassment, excitement, even rage. There’s no one clear answer to explain it, and yet… Bruce’s heart never skips a beat. It races in the heat of a fight; it slows when he (seldomly) rests, but it doesn’t skip.

There’s no way to comment on it without a) overstepping the boundaries Bruce has set about personal space (the mental kind, the physical can’t really be respected right now) or b) sounding like a creep, so Clark settles back and ignores it. Mostly ignores it.

He lathers up Bruce’s face gently – which he probably could’ve done himself, but there’s no way Clark will let him try if it ends up with those mer-claws piercing his skin. Bruce may have many scars, but he doesn’t need to add facial ones to the collection. He’s got enough everywhere else. Clark bites his lip as he carefully makes sure Bruce’s neck and chin are covered before he moves onto his cheeks. The hairs catch on his skin, but Bruce doesn’t seem to mind the slight pull at his face.

Clark’s hand is steady as he slides the razor over Bruce’s skin. He barely presses down; doesn’t have to with such an expensive razor. He rinses it in the water and mentally makes a note to change it again when they’re done. He wonders if the pool Bruce uses to swim laps would be more comfortable for him. Bruce might need to stay in water for several more days; there has to be a better way to do this; the tub may work for shaving but for sleeping? He’ll have to have someone looking over him constantly.

There’s another skip in Bruce’s heartbeat and then: “I never thought I’d willingly let you this close with a blade.”

“Neither did I if I’m honest,” Clark says. He waits a beat or two, carefully gliding the razor over Bruce’s skin. “I’m glad you did though.”

Bruce turns his head as Clark rinses the razor. His eyes catch Clark’s.

“So am I,” he says quietly. He’s staring at Clark like he’s trying to see through him. His nostrils flare and there’s a faint purple shine in his eyes. Clark wonders if it’s always been there and he’s just never noticed or if this is part of the mer-curse. “I’ll give you a scalp massage as a thank you,” Clark offers just to keep the mood light.

Bruce chuckles and they settle in comfortable silence as Clark works.

He finishes shaving Bruce’s face and neck, careful not to cut him. He rinses the razor once more and then puts it on the edge of the tub. He’s just about to reach for Bruce’s face again with the warm washcloth when Bruce flinches.

Bruce lets out a soft sound and starts shivering. Not even a second later he groans quietly and Clark stops moving all together.

“What? What’s happening? Did I hurt you?” Clark asks worriedly.

“No, I- I don’t know what’s happening,” Bruce mutters but he’s staring down at his tail.

“Happening?” Clark echoes and moves around so he can see what Bruce is talking about. “What- oh.” Clark’s face feels like it’s on fire as he looks at… he’s not even sure what it is he’s looking at, but underneath Bruce’s navel, in the scales of his tail, a small opening has appeared. It seems to be throbbing in time with Bruce’s pulse and it looks wet and warm and-

“Jesus-”

“That, uh,” Clark stutters. “It looks like-”

“I know what it looks like,” Bruce bites and twists away as much as he can when they’re pressed against each other. “Stop staring at it!”

“I’m sorry.” Clark turns his head upwards to stare at the ceiling. “Does it hurt?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” Bruce hisses. He’s doing some of his breathing exercises, but they don’t seem to be working. After a minute or two Bruce huffs in frustration. “I need you to leave.”

“What?” Clark asks and forgets to keep his head turned. “Why?”

“I just-” Bruce’s nostrils flare again, and he seems to flinch back from Clark as his skin flushes all the way down to his chest. “I need you to not be near me for a while.”

“But Bruce-”

“I’m not-” Bruce interrupts. He closes his eyes and breathes very slowly through his mouth. “I’m not asking you leave the house, okay? Just this room, just for a little while.”

“Oh.” Clark flushes a little at how relieved he feels. “Okay.”

It’s awkward, stepping out of the tub and going back out to Bruce’s bedroom, but mostly because Clark doesn’t know what he did wrong or what’s happening with Bruce.

Bruce keeps his word and calls out for Clark softly fifteen minutes later. He seems to have calmed down and the opening or whatever it was - not that Clark is looking for it! - is gone as well. Clark isn’t an expert in mermaid anatomy and he’s not going to ask Bruce about it after the reaction he had, but he has an inkling. It’s not something he’ll ever bring up unless Bruce does, but… he can keep that thought for himself. That feeling.

Despite their rather awkward and abrupt shower session Bruce is more than willing to let Clark stay at the manor. Clark is pretty sure it’s because he’s horrified to let his children see him like this and now that he’s already let Clark in, it’s easier to accept his help. Either way Clark is happy to stay and help out. Especially as the days pass and they still haven’t heard anything cure-related from Diana.

It seems the curse is worse than they originally thought. The more time goes by the more mermaid Bruce becomes. His teeth are soon too long for him to speak around them properly (it seems that’s why they were hurting); Clark wipes blood off his chin every time he tries because he keeps piercing through his own lip. The scales spread from his fingertips up his hands, all the way to his elbows.

The third day Clark is with him, Bruce stops trying to talk. Clark assumes it’s the teeth but when Bruce opens his mouth to answer a question Alfred asks by pure instinct, he hears why Bruce has stopped talking. Because he can’t. All that gets past his lips are small chirps and low humming. Bruce looks horrified and Alfred looks scared. This can’t be good.

By the fifth day Clark is done waiting. He’ll find Diana and figure out what’s going on. Bruce has to have help. Now. He spends more time under water in the tub than he does above and it’s worrying both to Clark and Bruce’s family. Even Jason has stopped by the manor to poke his head in and stare at Bruce. No rude comment or anything, which says something about how worried he is.

Clark finds Diana fairly easy; she’s at the Watchtower with J’onn and Wally. He’s been too wound up to search properly for her, even with knowing her strong heartbeat, so he has no doubt that he’s wasted time looking for her. He should’ve simply sent her a message, but he’s been too preoccupied keeping track of Bruce’s heartbeat since he left the manor. Clark doesn’t mean to sound accusing but he can see on their faces that he must have spoken rather roughly when greeting them. He swallows and tries again.

“My apologies,” he says. “I just- have we found the witch yet?”

“Yes,” J’onn says. He must sense Clark’s urgency.

“She was half Atlantean,” Diana supplies. “I needed Arthur’s assistance in catching her.”

“And?” Clark presses. “What did you find out?”

“We already sent Batsy the cure, Big Blue,” Wally says helpfully. “Arthur should’ve been by Bruce’s house like an hour ago.”

An hour ago. Clark would slam his head against a wall if he wasn’t sure he would break it before knocking his own brain into a working spot. He thanks them quickly before making the trip back to the manor. Has he really wasted so much time that he missed Arthur’s visit or was he simply too panicked to notice him arriving? He can’t be sure, and he doesn’t have the patience to figure it out. He needs to get back to Bruce.

Clark finds the entirety of the bat family in Bruce’s bedroom. They’re all talking amongst themselves; it’s happy chatter so Clark is hopeful. He enters just as Bruce walks out of the bathroom. Walks. On his two legs.

“Well, that’s better,” Bruce says as he pulls the shirt over his head. His eyes instantly fall on Clark. “How do I look?”

“Incredible,” is the first thing in Clark’s brain and he somehow forgets to catch it before it exits his mouth.

“Huh,” Bruce says with a slight nod of his head. “Does that mean you’re willing to share another bath with me even without my tail?”

“Oh, yuck,” someone says – sounds like Jason, but he’s not supposed to be here, is he?

It may just as well have been Tim or even Dick; Clark can’t focus on anything but Bruce and the words he’s almost certain Bruce just said. It can’t be right though, can it? Did Bruce just invite him into another bath? Being mer must have scrambled his brain. He looks fine though. More than fine, he looks…

“And that is our cue to leave, young sirs,” Alfred says and shoos the others out the door. Were they really all here? Clark feels rude for not greeting them properly.

“I seem to recall you owing me a scalp massage,” Bruce says when the last bat-boy is out of the room.

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault we didn’t get to finish that,” Clark points out. His chest feels light as he looks Bruce over. He really does look his best when he’s clean-shaven and on his own two feet. Although Clark might miss getting to take care of him.

“I promise I won’t pop a mermaid-boner on you this time,” Bruce says with a cocky shrug. He’s trying to cover up the slight blush on his cheeks with a confident attitude and Clark has missed this. Missed him being up and flirty.

“Too bad,” Clark grins because now that Bruce has mentioned it, it’s free territory. It’s not part of the unspoken thing. “It suited you.”

“I thought I told you not to look,” Bruce says as he steps closer.

“I thought I told you to ask for help,” Clark counters.

“I’m asking now.” He’s so close that Clark only has to flex his hand and he’ll be able to touch him. Bruce is well aware of this; it’s clear in his bright eyes. The purple is gone but his eyes are just as beautiful without it.

“Are you?” Clark asks.

“Please,” Bruce breathes so close to his lips. He looks from Clark’s mouth to his eyes, searching for something or saying something, Clark isn’t sure. The signal is clear as day though, he doesn’t have to say it: the unspoken thing now has words. “Help me out of these clothes.”

“You got it.”

[dc418writes]

Is That Your Foot?

✨Pairing✨: gamer!Jake JensenxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: This is one movie night you definitely won’t forget

⚠️: scary movies, Jensen trying to be the stereotypical protective boyfriend

A/N🎙: something cute and funny (at least to me lol) that I thought of for Halloween, and hope you guys like! Also just like people participate in kinktober or have their own list of Halloween themed stories for this time of year, I thought of doing my own little thing for once☺️! I would release a list of what I’m planning on writing (and still might idk), but I don’t want to potentially disappoint anyone if something doesn’t get released, or when I miss estimated release dates (which honestly will probably happen due to me working full time). If you guys still want the list though, I can definitely make one really quick! Ok, well that’s pretty much everything I wanted to say and hope you guys are well and drinking your water💕!

*Disclaimer!: although the collage was made by me, I DO NOT OWN the pictures used in the collage as they were all found on Pinterest*

Appearing in front of you holding a bowl of freshly popped popcorn mixed with m&ms—your boyfriend’s creation so he wouldn’t have to reach in separate containers—you try to keep your giggles at bay watching him gently bounce while pressing buttons on the small remote to make sure everything was properly set. He’d recently bought a projector that apparently was unlike any other on the market, according to the tech genius. He couldn’t wait to use it going on and on in the meantime about the megapixels and specs, along with other fine details, that were a completely different language to you.

“Alright Tink, are you ready for the greatest movie night of all time?,” he asks doing his best impression of the movie announcer guy fully making you giggle as you nod.

“What are we watching?”

“Don’t Go Alone. A buddy of mine managed to find a free digital download code.”

Jensen knew you weren’t a big fan of horror movies, but that didn’t stop him from trying to coax you into watching them. Not in an overbearing way, though. It was more so his attempt at pulling you out of your comfort zone and assure you there was nothing to be afraid of.

So far, not a single try turned out to be successful ultimately ending the night with one of your comfort movies or curled up against your boyfriend as he quite literally had to rock you to sleep to calm down.

“A-Are you sure?”

His arm securely wraps around your middle as a barely audible “aw” crosses his lips making you shyly hide your face in his chest.

“I promise it’s not scary. If it gets to be too much though, I’ll turn it off and we can watch Spongebob all night okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble receiving a kiss on the temple then forehead before he pressed play and the projector displays the clearest visuals you would only see on a Jumbotron.

So far the movie wasn’t scary. Only loud noises here and there—which admittedly did make you jump and snuggle closer to Jake—along with flashes of gore when the killer captured his target. It was mostly a mystery though, as police and detectives tried to figure out the murderer’s identity before he or she could strike again.

“You okay?,” Jake asks peering down at you comfortably lying on his chest. The tan comforter and his natural body heat both keeping you warm.

“Mhm,” you nod lifting your head. “It’s not bad.”

“See? I told you. Plus, no need to be scared with big, tough, jacked Jensen here.” His nose poking your cheek along with his fingers sneakily tickling your side has you giggling and squirming in his hold.

“Jacked Jensen?”

“Well..I mean..I have been lifting heavier weights,” he cockily winks making you giggle some more leaning forward to peck his cheek.

What sounds like scratching at your front door startles you out of your cute moment though, immediately grabbing onto your boyfriend’s arm as you both sit up.

“What is it Tink?”

“I-I thought I heard something. At the door.”

“You sure?,” he asks. Cerulean eyes full of concern. “Wasn’t just something on the movie?”

Shrugging your shoulders, he pauses the movie before slipping out of bed and quickly pulling his discarded sweats up his legs and over his boxers. His feet carefully pad from your shared bedroom, down the dark hall, and finally to your front door where you can hear the click of the locks being opened before the door itself. You can only wring the blanket covering you in your hands as you nervously wait for his return with bated breath.

What took all of five minutes seemed to take longer listening for his footsteps to grow closer while craning your neck, trying to see further down the hall from your seated spot on the bed.

“Just a note from the office,” he states briefly holding up the piece of paper. “Power’s gonna be off for a little bit tomorrow.”

“Oh…sorry.”

“Don’t be, you didn’t know sweetheart,” he smiles sweetly kissing your temple as he brings you closer into his side again. “We can take a break from the movie if you want? Come back to it tomorrow in the daytime.”

“No it’s okay, I’m fine! Really.”

“Alright, let me know if you change your mind though,” he replies lifting the remote to press play, starting from where you left off.

Maybe 10 minutes later, you could’ve sworn you heard little tapping against the hardwood floor but you decide to keep quiet. You didn’t want another false alarm on your hands when Jake was so invested in the plot unfolding before his eyes on the screen. He even needs help guiding his hand to the bowl between you his gaze is glued so hard.

The unmistakable clank of something falling to the floor is impossible to ignore though making both you and Jake jump looking towards your bedroom door.

“Y-You heard that too right?,” he nervously asks holding onto you tight. You’re not quite sure if it’s for your comfort or his that he does it.

“Yea,” you whisper as if whatever was responsible for the noise would surely do worse if it heard you. Another clank and clatter has him slipping from bed rushing to get the bat from under the bed holding it beside his head as if he was ready to swing for a home run. “Jake wait!”

“Stay here, lock yourself in the bathroom. I take too long, call 911.”

“No I’m going too,” you state quickly scurrying by his side after sticking your feet in your fuzzy slippers. Your pepper spray in its pink case is armed in front of you as you both practically tip toe down the hall—Jake in front hoping not to pee himself and you clutching his shirt surely stretching the material. The living room appears untouched, still exactly as you left it before heading to the room, and the door remains locked along with your shoes neatly placed by the nearby wall.

The tongs and larger spoon crooked on your kitchen floor explain the sounds from earlier, but how they fell when you knew they were securely hung on the rack over the island you couldn’t figure out.

“Y-You think someone came in?”

“No, but I’m not sure” he sighs sticking out his bat so he can move the curtains aside as you both make your way around the open space. “Hey sweetheart, you’re on my foot.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are honey, I can feel the hair from-,”

Your once quiet residence fills with screams—both surprisingly high pitched—as you and your boyfriend look down to find big, glowing eyes staring back at you before they’re quickly dashing away in a blur towards the kitchen like a shadow come to life. Frozen with fear, you and Jake flop onto the couch hurriedly picking up your feet so they couldn’t get grabbed by whatever you saw. The eyes soon return bouncing towards where the two of you are sat and causing more screams to erupt from your chests until…

-

“And that’s how this little guy came into our lives,” Jake smiles holding up the black cat with shiny fur so all his viewers could see.

gamesgamesgames: aww he’s so cute🥹!

BaddiesBack24: wait how did it get in your place again? I think I missed something

“So when I first opened the door and saw the note about our power being cut off, I think he snuck in then,” Jake answers scratching behind the small animal’s ears making him comfortably purr with eyes closed.

Baller415: I thought you said you didn’t trust cats??

“Ok yes you got me,” he chuckles. “Once upon a time I wasn’t the biggest fan of cats, but I’ve been transformed. Plus look at this adorable face! How can you hate this guy huh?”

passengerprincess: we need a name reveal Jakey!!

“Right, the name! So we chose..,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “Casper! You know since he quite literally snuck in creeping around, and scaring us, like a ghost.”

jazziemae: it’s perfect✨!

JonthaDon: no cap…I’d die for Casper

“I’m glad you guys like the name and love Casper just as much if not more,” he laughs. The jingling of the front doorknob has him turning his head hearing your sweet voice announcing you were home, and effectively making him smile.

“Alright guys, that’s gonna be it for the stream tonight. I’ll be back same time tomorrow where we’re definitely completing the newest Wizard’s Challenge even if I have to stream all night, and yes I stand by my word! I have a feeling we’re gonna be good though with Casper here helping out too.”

Taglist: @celestianstars @stargirlfics @fumbling-fanfics @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @adoreyouusugar @lovebittenbyevans @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @theartisticqueen @chrisevans-world @literaturelove @ivorylei @elrw24 @pono-pura-vida @yinx1 @justile @sunsetfreedom05 @jackiekae @luvingmyships @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @bekinds @maxcullen @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @royalwriteroftheuniverse @damnitta @literaturefeen @bamondomesticity @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found in masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know! Also if you’d rather opt to turn on the notifications for my page that’s perfectly fine too🤓!

[mountswhore]

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 — jack grealish

summary: jack meets his celebrity crush at a festival, having no idea you felt the same about him.

notes: requests are open, just ask <3

for @stephspurs

It was no secret that you were his celebrity crush. It was the topic of almost every interview he had.

“So, you’re not shy when posting about Y/N Y/L/N, are you?” The interviewer would ask, Jack letting out a cackle as he reshaped his hair.

“No,” he laughed again, feeling the apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose go warm, “no, she’s gorgeous. She’s been my celebrity crush for years. It’s annoying because a lot of the England boys have met her before I have.”

“Well she definitely knows who you are,” the interviewer replies, watching Jack get all flustered at that statement, “she had her ‘Grealish’ England shirt on when we interviewed her on tour.”

You’d been a huge fan of football for years — it being a family tradition to watch the national games together. But with your busy musician schedule, you could only watch backstage before a performance, or on your way to sound check. You’d seen some interviews of some of the England squad, stumbling upon a Jack Grealish one. It was well-known in your close friend group that you had the hots for him, he was gorgeous. And they’d gifted you a Grealish shirt to take on tour with you.

“The way Mount goes on about her, I’d think they have a thing.” Jack admitted to the interviewer, laughing off his statement.

“She said during her interview that she hoped to see some of the squad during Wireless this summer.” Jack’s heart almost stopped, an opportunity to finally meet you had arose.

“I’ll have to book some tickets then.”

And here he was. In London, staying in a hotel room with a few of the England boys in time for Wireless this weekend. Three days of music, having fun, and trying to meet you.

“Jack, mate, you’re sweating.” Jesse observed, grabbing a can of deodorant from the bathroom counter. “Are you really that nervous about this festival?”

“No, he’s nervous about running into Y/N Y/L/N,” Mason poked at Jack’s arm, all the boys collectively laughing at Jack’s rare shyness. Mason, Jesse, Declan and Marcus had all met you before, so Jack was the only one of the group who was yet to meet you.

“He fancies her big time.” Marcus joked, although he was completely telling the truth. Any man with half a brain could figure that one out. “Let’s go. We’re gonna be late.”

“Do you think I should try messaging her? Do you think she’ll see it?” Jesse wondered, reaching for his phone from his crossbody bag.

“She’s probably getting ready, so no.”

Jesse, who didn’t listen to Marcus as he spoke, still tried dm’ing you.

Can’t wait to see your set today. Got the boys with me.

The festival wasn’t a far walk from their hotel, and soon enough they were in. Walking around and getting familiar with the place, the group had made their way to your stage. You wouldn’t be performing until the next hour, and Jack was clearly antsy. He’d been in the company of pretty girls before, but you were different.

That’s so sweet, come to the celeb area after my set and I’ll hang out with you guys, Jesse read the message aloud, the boys patting him on the back and cheering.

“Guess you’ll be meeting your boo thang after all.” Jesse joked, throwing an arm around Jack and bringing him closer to the front of the stage.

The group watched you perform, the crowd jumping along with you. You definitely knew how to entertain a crowd. But once your set was done, the boys were headed to the celebrity area as planned. You’d taken a while to come out, your friends coming out beforehand to greet them and say you were just cooling down.

And there you were. You looked like the physical embodiment of magic. You smiled at the boys, embracing them all and finally getting to Jack. Your friends were taunting you all day about your footballer crush who was going to be watching, and embracing him felt perfect. Like a task was now complete.

“Did you guys watch my set?” You asked, sitting on the couches and grabbing a drink from the table opposite you. The four boys were squashed onto a couch opposite you, engaging in conversation with you and your friends.

“We were in the front row.” Mason laughed, making you all the more nervous.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I tend not to look at the closer crowd, it makes me so nervous.” You admitted, playing with your various rings.

The boys had been laughing and joking with your friends for a while, and it was so strange to see Jack up close. Good, but strange.

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Jack stood up, stretching his legs and giving you a glance.

“I’ll join you.” You mentioned, standing up and following him out to the main crowd.

You both walked towards one of the vendors, selling all sorts of food and drinks, waiting in the stupidly long queue. Jack was so much taller than you, it was intimidating. But he’d often look down and you and smile cheekily. “You’re a lot taller in real life.”

“And you’re a lot smaller,” Jack commented, the pair of you laughing, “it’s so weird to meet you in person. I’ve been following you on Instagram for like two years. The boys keep teasing me about it.”

“Why do they tease you?”

“I may have a massive crush on you.” Jack suggested, looking up at the oddly shaped clouds as you processed what you’d heard.

“I may have a massive crush on you, too. My friends even bought me a Grealish England shirt.” You confessed, reddened as you covered your face with your hands. All you heard was Jack’s laughter and his arm on your shoulders.

“That’s adorable,” he conceded, retracting his arm back to his side. All the sheepishness had dissolved, and now confident Jack was back. You made him feel so comfortable and he loved it.

Once you’d retrieved your drinks and made your way back to the celebrity area, you stopped in your tracks. Jack had turned to face you, a look of concern on his face. “What’s up?”

“This is gonna sound bold. And you can totally say no, but do you wanna go for a proper drink tomorrow? Or some food? I’m tired of American food.” Jack grinned at your proposal, nodding vigorously.

“Sounds good.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

hand delivered ~ corpse husband

word count: 1498

request?: no

description: in which he surprises her with a visit, and she surprises him with something else

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

i was inspired by corpse hand delivering sykkuno’s hoodie so i had to write a hella fluffy imagine on it

“I swear to God Rae!” you exclaimed as Rae giggled at her actions.

The two of you were streaming GTA V together at Rae had taken an amusement to stealing cars and driving them towards you, narrowly avoiding killing you every time. For obvious reasons, this wasn’t exactly keeping you under the radar of the cops. Quite the opposite, actually. You were spending most of your time running from both Rae and the cops.

“We’re never gonna make any money at this rate,” you told her. “We’re gonna spend it all on bail fees.”

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Rae argued. “Just jump in, we’ll go to the next job.”

“I can’t jump in when you’re trying to run me over!”

Rae giggled again as your chat joked about what she was doing to you. You rolled your eyes at everyone, but you couldn’t stop the smile that was on your face.

Before you could jump into the car that Rae had recently stolen, you heard a knock at your door. You paused a moment, confused. You weren’t expecting anyone, and you hadn’t ordered any take out or anything. You decided to ignore it, figuring maybe it was a wrong place or something and if no one answered they’d leave. But the knock came again, this time a bit louder and faster.

“Hey, don’t get us killed, I gotta go AFK for a second,” you told Rae. You heard just a piece of her response as you set your headphone aside and made your way to your front door.

You were looking down when you opened the door, prepared to tell whoever was there that they were at the wrong house, but instead your gaze landed on a pair of familiar hands holding a black and red hoodie, folded in a way that all you could see was the familiar fanart of Corpse Husband.

Against your better judgement, you let your eyes trail up to the face of your visitor, the real life version of the face on the hoodie, smiling down at you. Your eyes widened. It was the first time you had ever seen Corpse’s face, and it felt illegal to be standing here looking at him. You quickly covered your eyes, willing yourself to forget what you had saw.

“(Y/N),” Corpse laughed. “You don’t have to cover your eyes.”

“I saw your face!” you said. “I-I saw your actual face! I have to gouge my eyes out or something!”

You felt his cold hands taking hold of your own, lowering them from your eyes so you could look up at him again. Although you tried to stop yourself, you let your eyes wander over his face, taking in every detail. It occurred to you in that moment that this was the first time you were seeing the face of a man you had been crushing on for the past six months.

“Come in,” you said, realizing that he was still just standing outside. “Come, get comfortable. I’m-I’m streaming, I’ll be right back.”

“You don’t have to end your stream early because of me.”

That voice! It comes from an actual person! A real, living person!

“You really think I’ll be able to return to my stream for another few hours while you’re here?” you questioned. “It’s fine, it’s just GTA with Rae. She’ll probably play with Sykkuno instead when I get off.”

You felt like you were in a daze as you returned to your room. You quickly told Rae you were hopping off stream and you’d explain to her - and to your viewers - why later on. Your chat started asking what was wrong, but you ended the stream before responding.

When you returned to your living room, you saw the back of Corpse’s curly, brown haired head sitting on your couch. Your heart was racing with so many different emotions. You couldn’t believe he was actually here, that the voice you had befriended nearly half a year ago was actually sat in your house.

“Wait a second,” you said, realizing something. “Don’t you live like...five hours away? Corpse, did you drive five hours to come visit me?”

He looked up at you and shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

“So?! Corpse, you have nerve issues! You can’t even sit straight for ten minutes!” You were suddenly starting to feel guilty, although obviously you hadn’t asked Corpse to come visit you.

“I’m fine!” he assured you. “Do I look like I’m in pain? I wanted to come give you your merch, and I figured this would be a nice surprise too!”

You went to sit next to him, your heart beating faster the closer you got to him. You were sure this was just a dream and you’d wake up in bed at any moment. To test your theory, you slowly inched your finger forward to softly poke Corpse’s cheek. He chuckled as you jumped back, shocked by the success of your touch.

“You’re real!” you blurted, causing more laughter.

“I am real. Are you surprised?”

“Just a little,” you admitted.

You both sat in silence, just looking at one another. You weren’t really sure what to say. It was like every possible topic you could bring up, or every joke you could make, was suddenly gone. It was obvious Corpse was feeling the same as he was usually the one who could keep a conversation going.

“Try on your hoodie,” he finally said, passing you the hoodie he was still holding to you. You took it excitedly and slipped it on over your head. The warm material engulfed you immediately. It was definitely a few sizes too big, but that was your favorite part - the bagginess of it.

“It’s perfect,” you told him. “Thank you so much for bringing it to me.”

“I told you I would. I really wanted you to have at least one article of my merch. You were so excited for it when I released it.”

You held the hoodie close to your nose, taking in the scent of Corpse that still lingered on it. There was so much happiness bubbling up inside of you that you felt like you were going to burst at any moment. You really did not think things could get any better.

“Can I hug you?” you asked.

Corpse smiled and opened his arms as a response. You immediately lunged into them, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly. It was the last confirmation you needed that this was all real, that Corpse was really there.

The hug was prolonged and eventually Corpse was pulling you into his lap, squeezing you back as if afraid that you would disappear too. You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling his curly locks brush against your face. You never wanted to let go, and you could tell that Corpse felt the same way.

When you finally pulled away from the hug, you looked down into Corpse’s eyes. His hands were still resting on your hips, and yours were on his shoulders. Before you could stop yourself, you were leaning forward to kiss him. The minute your lips collided, it was like someone had set off fireworks inside your small apartment.

You pulled away almost immediately, realizing what you had done. “I-I’m sorry. That-that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”

There was a small smile on Corpse’s face as his hands came up to cup your face and pulled you to him, attaching his lips to yours again.

Just when I thought today couldn’t get any better.

Forgetting the world around you, you became lost in one another. Your arms were back around Corpse’s neck, holding on to him as if you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go. One of his hands was still on your cheek as the other slipped behind your head, your hair tangling around his fingers. There was so much passion in the kiss that it made your head spin, and when the two of you finally pulled away it felt like your head was spinning.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Corpse told you. “I may have been hoping something like this would happen when I got here.”

“What?” you questioned. “Why did you never tell me how you were feeling?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Corpse teased. “I was always flirting with you, I had hoped you’d get the message.”

“Corpse, you flirt with everyone!”

The two of you laughed. You couldn’t help but dip your head to kiss him once more. His lips were intoxicating, and you just wanted to kiss them all the time.

“How long were you planning on staying?” you asked.

“I don’t know. I was going to see how well this visit went and go from there.”

You giggled and cuddled into Corpse’s arms. “Well, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. I think I’ll have a hard time letting you go now, though.”

“I think I’ll have a hard time leaving.”