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[hpiprocesses]

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[silverb0wties]

Lemonade - Part 3

leah williamson x alessia russo x child!reader

Summary: When something bad happens to your Mummy and Daddy, you end up living with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah.  But is there room for you considering they have a new baby on the way?

Chapter Summary:  You go back to school and you try and make yourself useful

Warnings: bullying, homophobia, misogyny 

|| Part 1 || Part 2 ||

PART 3

“30 days has September, April, June and November…”

You had set yourself the task today to make yourself a calendar.  Maths had never been your strongest subject in school, but you were excellent at remembering, so you knew the month song off by heart and were mumbling it to yourself as you began digging into your desk draw to retrieve some art supplies.

The decision to make the calendar had hit you last night when you were reading one of your new library books before bed and the return receipt slipped out of the back cover and onto your lap.  Normally, it was the very first thing you retrieved when you got home from the library, making sure to mark the return dates down on your big white board calendar on the fridge.  But you were still getting used an entirely new routine in your new house and you’d completely forgot to look for the slip.

Now that you had it though, you had to make sure you noted down the dates somewhere you could easily see them.  So, with a few pieces of paper, a ruler and some markers, you drew up a calendar for the next few months.  By checking the borrow date on the receipt and counting how many days it had been since your library visit, you managed to figure out what todays date was.  From there, and with the help of that handy month song, you’d managed to fill in the rest of the dates.   

When it was all completed you stepped back to examine your work.  If you were honest with yourself, your lines could have been drawn straighter and your handwriting could have been much, much neater.  But you didn’t have the energy to redo it, so it would have to do.  For now. 

You surveyed your room for someone to put it.  In your old house your calendar was on the fridge, out in the open for everyone to see and help you keep track of.  Here, it needed to be hidden from your Aunties, so that it was your responsibility, and your responsibility alone, to make sure you were staying on top of everything.

Everything.

A wave of guilt crashed over you as you remembered all the other things you would keep track of on your calendar.  Now that you were a big girl, you had been helping around the house and you had chores.  You would set the table and help take the cups and plates and spoons out of the dish washer (only Mummy and Daddy could touch the knives).  You would also check for mail every morning and there was a pretty purple watering can you got use to water the flowers in the front garden a couple of times a week.

But you didn’t do any of that here at your Aunties house.

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

Part of you worried that your Aunties didn’t trust you enough to ask you to help out around the house.  Perhaps they thought you weren’t smart enough or strong enough or big enough to lend a hand.  Or maybe they were secretly mad that you hadn’t insisted on helping and were keeping a top-secret list of all the times you didn’t help out and they would present it to you on a big, long scroll on the day they kicked you out their house.

You shuddered at the thought of that.  That was a day you thought about often.  You didn’t know how many days or weeks or months it was until the baby was here, but surely your time here at your Aunties house was running out.  You needed to do everything in your power to be good until then so that they didn’t kick you out any sooner.  

That night before tea, you made sure to wash your hands extra good before heading into the kitchen where your Aunty Lessi was cooking.  

“Aunty Lessi, could I set the table?”

“Oh sure!  If you’d like.  Just give me a moment and I’ll show you where everything is.”

You grinned in silent satisfaction, glad that it seemed like your Aunty wasn’t outright opposed to you proving your worth.  After your Aunty Lessi finished with whatever she was stirring on the stove, she led you over to various cupboards and drawers and pointed out where the placemats, plates and cutlery lived.  Whilst there were a few plastic cups in the same cupboard as the plates for you to use, the glasses your Aunties drank out of were on a higher shelf that were too high for you to reach.

“Don’t worry about those, I can grab them” she insisted.

“I could get a chair or something to stand on?”

“Don’t be silly, Bun Bun.  I’ll get them.  Thank you for getting everything else though.”

Silly. Silly. Silly.

Once you were all sat down for dinner, you watched your Aunty Lessi spin spaghetti around her fork before you took a deep breath in and began.

“Did I do okay at setting the table?”

“You did a great job, Bunny!” Your Aunty Leah was smiling big and bright at you.  She had a bit of sauce on her chin, but you thought it would be rude to tell her.

“Do you think I could do it every night?” you asked.

“Uhh… I mean, if you want to, sure.”

Victory.  One chore to add to the calendar.

“What about the post?  Can I be in charge of checking that too? Does it come in the mornings?”

You observed as your Aunties caught eyes with each other across the table, seeming to have a silent conversation.

“Umm, yes I suppose you could do that if you like,” Aunty Lessi nodded.

“Great!  And I can help empty the dishwasher.  No knives of course, but I can do spoons and plates and bowls and cups and stuff.  And maybe I can water some of your flowers, or all of them?  Or I can learn how to do other stuff too.  Like I could figure out how to do the laundry or clean the bathrooms or anything you want really…”

You hadn’t really realised, but you had pulled your knees up to your chest as your rant had gone on.  Your head was now resting on top of them as you looked eagerly between your Aunties, waiting for their response.  They were doing the silent conversation thing again.

“You don’t need to do all those things sweetheart.  We appreciate you offering, but maybe we’ll wait until you’re a bit older to do things like the laundry and stuff, yeah?” your Aunty Lessi responded.

You felt your stomach drop.  Your Aunty Lessi’s voice was kind, but you knew what her words meant.  They didn’t think you were big enough to help.

“How about we start off with setting the table for tea and checking the mail?  You’re still just settling in here, so we don’t wanna overload you with too much stuff to remember to do.”

--

It may have been bright and sunny outside, but today was a day you had been absolutely dreading.  You had decided to hang your calendar on the back of your bedroom door so that nobody but you would see it, and you had made sure to mark this day with a bright red circle and big a sad face.  Today was the day you were going back to school. 

You weren’t sure how it was decided or who decided, but you’d had a couple of weeks away from school after the fire and now it was time to go back.

You had only been back at school for 3 weeks of the new school year before the fire happened, so your parents had only just bought you brand-new dresses and shoes to replace the previous ones you’d outgrown.  Your pencil case had been filled with fresh crayons and sharp pencils, and you’d only just put a really cool new bunny sticker that your Uncle Gio had given you on your lunchbox.  But now, you had to start all over again.

So today, as you sat in front office with your Aunties, you were wearing a brand-new school dress and shoes and socks and Aunty Lessi had done your hair in a pretty braid with some pretty ribbons.  You also had a brand-new backpack and lunch box and pencil case, and you even had a brand-new iPad in a shiny purple case. 

In theory, you were all set to go.

But just under the surface, just beneath the layer of hairspray and the stiff gingham fabric, you were absolutely dreading heading back to the big noisy classroom and scary, sticky playgrounds.

You didn’t have heaps of friends at school like most of the other kids seemed to have.  You did have one good friend though.  Nora.  She also really liked to read and was super into comic books and superheros.  You didn’t really understand why she liked them, but you were more than happy to listen to her when she wanted to tell you all about them.  You would then tell her some cool bunny facts in return. 

This year the school librarian, Mr Webster, had let you both work on a big jigsaw puzzle every lunchtime.  He kept it safe and flat on a special piece of wood that he hid on top of his bookshelf in his office when you weren’t working on it.  It was a really, really big puzzle with loads more pieces than any other puzzle either of you had ever done before.  You were both determined to finish it before Christmas, but you weren’t sure if Nora had kept going while you were away.  You hoped she had but you also secretly hoped there was still some pieces left for you to do.  

Unlike previous years, Nora wasn’t in your class this year.  You were in Mrs Green’s class, and she was in Miss Roberts’ class.  You’d both written a letter to each teacher requesting to be swapped into each other’s class, but it hadn’t worked.  You were stuck alone in the classes you were in, and honestly, you were miserable. 

You see, it wasn’t that you didn’t have any other friends, that didn’t bother you much at all.  It was the fact that a bunch of the other kids seemed to actively dislike you.  In fact, the thing they seemed to like most in the whole world was picking on you.  They called you names and pulled on your hair and threw things at you.  You couldn’r really pinpoint exactly when it all started, but your first and most vivid memory was when Mitchell Timms had snatched your copy of The Worst Witch out of your hands one lunch time.  He threw it in a muddy puddle and stomped on it until all the pages were torn and the words had jumbled together.  When you ran over to try and save the book, a gift you’d received on your latest birthday, Mitchell just laughed at you and called you a “loser weirdo”. 

For the first 3 weeks of school this year, you had been sat next to a boy named Ollie and it had been awful.  He kept bumping your arm on purpose while you were trying to write and had laughed whenever you got frustrated that you had to erase and redo your mistakes.  One time he had even pulled your chair out from underneath you when you went to sit down, leading you to land on your bottom on the floor with a thud.  The whole class had pointed and laughed at you.  You had run out of the classroom and hid under a bench to try and calm yourself down.

When the teacher came to find you, you were curled in a ball, rubbing your Pocket Arthur softly against your cheek.  Pocket Arthur was your school buddy.  When you’d moved up from Reception into Primary School, your parents had bought you a miniature version of Arthur that you could keep tucked away in your pocket.  They said that now that you were going to big school, Arthur could no longer come along with you, but they wanted to make sure you still had a little buddy to always keep you company.  So, he was your Pocket Arthur, or Pockie for short. 

But he died in the fire too.

Failure. Failure. Failure.

So, on the night before you went back to school, you’d searched through your room, trying to find something to fill the big empty space left by Pockie when he died – the pocket of your school dress.  You tried crumpling up a wad of tissues, but the texture of it was all wrong.  Next you tried a balled-up pair of socks, but it felt scratchy when you tried rubbing it against your cheek.  You looked over the stuffies your Aunties had bought you, but they were all far too big to fit in your pocket.    

One of the stuffies caught your eye however as your dug through the little pile of toys.  It was on the bottom of pile, and you hadn’t seen it since you moved here.  It was a lovely and soft grey kangaroo, with pointy ears and a long tail.  You rather liked kangaroos, because while they were a completely different species to bunnies and could only be found in the wild in Australia, they kind of reminded you of really big rabbits.  As you pressed the soft fur to your cheek, something small fell in your lap.  Picking it up, you realised it was a baby kangaroo.  It must have fallen from the big kangaroo’s pouch.  It was perfect.  The perfect size, the perfect feel, the perfect squish.  You rubbed it against your cheek.  Bliss.  Holding it gently in your little hands, you squinted your eyes and ran your thumbs across the soft fur trying to figure out the perfect name for your new pocket pal.  Bailey.  She seemed like a Bailey.

And it was Bailey who you clung to, you hand shoved deep in your pocket, when the Headteacher Mrs Brinley called you all into her office.

You watched as both your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah shook hands with Mrs Brinley and then you all sat down on big uncomfortable chairs across the table from her.  You’d never been in her office before, so you took a moment to look around, noticing a bunch of certificates in big frames on the wall, a huge bookcase full of books and some photos of who you assumed were her family.

“Well, while we were very, very sad to hear about what has happened, we are glad that Y/K is back at school with us.  Hopefully being back in class will help her with getting back to her regular routine and schedule and assist her in feeling more settled.”

Her voice wasn’t unkind, but everything she said always sounded like she’d been rehearsing for it like it was a speech she had to give in front of the whole school.

“We have both of your phone numbers, as well as the number for your workplace, and we will call you should there be any issues.  But I’m sure Y/K will do just fine.”

Your Aunty Leah gently squeezed your hand that wasn’t firmly stuffed in your pocket, clinging onto Bailey for dear life.

“Mrs Green is going to meet you just back out in the front office and she will walk you up to class.  So, unless anyone has any questions, I’ll let you all get to it.”

You all shuffled back out the front office, where your teacher was waiting for you.  Aunty Lessi knelt down and gave you a big cuddle.

“Okay Bunny. You have fun on your first day back, alright?  And if anything goes wrong, or you don’t feel good or you feel sad… you just let your teacher know to call us okay.”

Aunty Leah leaned over and gave you a kiss on the forehead and stroked your cheek.  “You’ve got everything you need in your backpack, so you’re all set to go.  You’ve got this.”

“Okay.”

“We love you.”

The walk to your classroom was mostly filled with your teacher telling you about all the things you’d missed while you’d been away from school.  A little bubble of dread was beginning to build in your stomach as you realised all the work you now had to catch up on.  But by lunchtime that bubble had been replaced by a boulder.

Holding your lunch box and book tight to your chest, you looked around the hall for a spare seat.  Normally, you and Nora would sit together to eat your lunch and then go to the library, but to make a bad day even worse Nora was away from school today.  You had spent a solid 5 minutes looking for her, but according to a student in her class she’d had to stay home because she a nasty tummy bug.

The hall was quickly filling up as students grabbed their hot meals or lunch boxes and sat down at their chosen tables.  It quickly became apparent that the only spot left was one on the end of a table filled with some of the children who didn’t like you.  You’d spent so long looking for Nora, you’d been left with no other option.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

With a deep breath, you headed over to the table.  You sat quietly in the seat, hoping you would go unnoticed.

You didn’t.

“Why you sitting with us, Y/K?  Isn’t there anyone else you can sit with?” Jessica asked as you unzipped your lunch box.  You just shook your head in response.  A chorus of grumbles followed from the rest of the kids sitting at the table.

“Eww yuck, why does she have to sit with us?”  

“Where’s her weirdo friend?”

“Maybe she can sit on the floor instead.”

You just tried to tune them out, grabbing a sandwich out of your lunch box to munch on.  Your first bite was interrupted when the boy sitting beside you, Max, nudged you.

“Hey, were those your new Mums who brought you into school today?”

You hastily swallowed your sandwich, wanting to explain. “They’re my-” It was no use.  The group quickly began announcing their thoughts on the matter before you had a chance to correct them.

“Two Mums?  How can someone have TWO Mums?  That’s not right.”

“Yeah, my Dad says that it’s disgusting when two boys or two girls are married or kiss and stuff!”

“Oh yeah, like, have you ever saw two lads kiss? It’s weird!”

“I saw two ladies kissing when my Pop took me to the football last week.  He said they were going straight to hell!”

“As if she wasn’t weird enough, now she’s got two Mums too!”

Something inside you snapped, and you found yourself with your fists clenched and your cheeks red, Bailey long forgotten in your pocket.

“Yeah, well, they’re not my Mums, they’re my Aunties.  And they’re really nice and really clever and super cool.  And they play football for England, and and for the red and white club with the cannon!  And my Aunty Leah is the captain and everything! So that’s cooler than any of your families, ever!”

There was a short silence before they all started laughing.

“Girl’s football!  That doesn’t count!”

“That’s not real football!”

“Arsenal!  Pfffft.”

“I can’t wait to tell my Dad about this.”

“One of them looked pregnant when I saw them outside the office.  There’s no way they let her play like that!”

“That’s why they shouldn’t let girls play!��

“Wait, how is she having a baby if there’s no Daddy to put the baby in her?”

Whilst the rest of the comments had begun to muddle together and fade into the background as you tuned them all out, this last one pierced through.  Your head shot back in the direction of Jessica, the girl who had asked the question.  She was looking straight at you with her eyes squinted, twirling a strand of her hair around her pointer finger.

You hadn’t ever stopped to think about this.  To be honest you’d never really been interested in where babies came from.  You knew that whilst it varied from breed to breed, bunnies were pregnant for an average of 31 days and had litters of babies.  You also knew that humans usually only had one baby at a time and they were pregnant for around 9 months.  But you didn’t know how either bunnies or humans became pregnant.  Honestly, you were stumped.

“Guess you didn’t learn that in any of your stupid books, huh? Loser.”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

I kinda hate myself for asking this but can I get more of Your Personal Ghost?? Maybe a part two or just more of him in general??

.⋆｡Your Bandit｡⋆.

Brahms Heelshire x plus size reader

With the disappearance of all of your panties, some new information comes to light that isn’t as unwelcome as you thought it would be

Warnings: panty stealing, fluff, swearing, writer!reader WC: 1k

Minors DNI

Part 1

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“I swear I just did laundry.” You muttered, frustrated as you stared down at your mostly empty underwear drawer. Your panties had been disappearing at quite an alarming rate but they always ended up in your laundry hamper even if you couldn’t quite remember if you ever even wore them.

You sighed and slammed the drawer shut. Dressed only in an oversized t-shirt, you stomped your way down to the laundry room in some deluded idea that maybe the washer had somehow eaten your underwear. 

The small room in the basement of the house echoed with your aggravated curses as you dug through not only the washing machine but also the dryer and the linen closet in the corner. But nope- no panties, dirty or otherwise. 

“I give up!” You threw your hands into the air. “Whatever ghost is in this stupid fucking house, stop taking my fucking underwear! I need that shit!” You received no reply back except the house groaning as it settled. “I hate this place.”

Fishing a pair of leggings from the dryer, you tugged them on angrily as you muttered to yourself under your breath. “I’m gonna blow all my savings on fucking panties and ya know what, they’ll just go missing again. This is such bullshit.” Stomping away from the laundry room, you were dead-set on restoring your supply of undergarments and keeping it that way. No pervy ghost would get the better of you.

The wall by the front door creaked ominously as you stuffed your feet into the worn sneakers you couldn’t seem to part from. You didn’t even bother to address your haunted mansion, only stepping into the brisk morning and slamming the door shut behind you. It would be a long drive to the shops but it would give you time to plan your revenge.

——————

Your anger had dissolved to almost nothing by the time you pulled back into the driveway, getting home a lot later than you expected. It was stupid to think that the house was haunted; it was old, sure and a questionable history, no doubt. But haunted? That was idiotic at best. Yeah, you heard the ghost stories and still couldn’t find it in yourself to take down any of the creepy family portraits scattered around the eerie hallways. You were just lonely and in desperate need of some inspiration for your stagnating writing.

Your sigh was carried off on the breeze as you stepped from your car. The heat still emanating from the engine gave you a brief respite from the cold while you gathered yourself. “I’m losing my fucking mind.” The plastic bag stuffed full of brand new panties crinkled as you pulled it from the back seat, along with a well-deserved (in your opinion) bag of Chinese food from the only takeaway shop in a 50 mile radius. 

Too lost in your own head, you didn’t notice the light on in one of the empty bedrooms and the dark silhouette against the thick glass of the window. Maybe if you had, you would’ve thought better than to call out into the house as you took off your shoes. “Honey! I’m home!” 

You chuckled to yourself at your little joke, completely oblivious to the barely audible footsteps above you. The bag of panties landed with a soft thud at the foot of the stairs as you passed by it, a gentle reminder to bring them upstairs once you had your fill of bland food and plenty of wine. 

The huge shadow that darted behind the wall followed after you, far closer than it normally was though, as usual, you were ignorant to its presence. You hummed under your breath as you laid out your feast on the kitchen table. The food was now only lukewarm though you didn’t mind, the cheap bottle of red sitting in the pantry would warm you up plenty.

You pulled the cork from the bottle stem with a satisfying pop, too occupied by your task to see the large painting of a landscape lift itself from its place on the wall. The squeak of the Styrofoam covered the creak of the floorboards as a heavy weight settled on them. 

Just as you pulled out a kitchen chair, you heard heavy breathing over your shoulder.

“Welcome home.” The voice that rang out through the room was a strange mixture of that of a young boy and a grown man. Your entire body froze as fear shot through your veins. The house settled into silence as your gaze creeped to where the voice had come from.

Standing in front of a man-sized hole in the wall was a veritable giant. He loomed over you, even at a distance, his body wide with sinewy muscle that was barely covered by the large cardigan he wore. Greasy black curls hung down over his face or rather what should have been his face. The orange glow of the kitchen lights bounced off the cracked white porcelain, making his dark brown eyes stand out as they shone with anxiety.

“I’ve been waiting for you, I missed you.” His paw-like hands clasped together in front of him, his fingers nervously intertwining as he waited for you to do something, anything.

Your lips parted and there was only one thing you could think of to say. “You took my underwear.” His whole body curled in on itself as he cringed like a little kid when they would get in trouble. His head bobbed. “How- how long have you been here?”

“My whole life.” He answered. His huge shoulders dropped as he lowered his head, looking at you through his eyelashes. 

“Holy shit, you’re Brahms.” The boy who supposedly died in a fire in this very house almost 20 years ago. Suddenly you knew why you got this house for so fucking cheap. “And you’ve been watching me?” His nod was slow, almost as if he were ashamed. 

“You’re nice.” He simpered.

“Oh fuck,” You whined, “This is a great idea for a book. C’mon get some food, I suppose that neither of us are going anywhere for a while.” He lumbered over, his eyes still wary but the slight pink tint that you could see spreading down his neck told you just how pleased he was with this development.

“Were you the one deleting my writing?” Brahms’s breath hitched and before you could blink, he grabbed a box of fried rice and scurried back into the hole in the wall.

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[7ndipity]

False Pretenses

fwb!Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Just how fair does the ‘benefits’ aspect between Friends with Benefits actually extend? Based on this meme.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: crack to fluff, suggestive moments and ending, swearing, Jk has side by side washer/dryer units cause it’s funnier, reader’s referred to as ‘Ma’am’, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took me soo long to get to, I hope you’ll still like it tho! (I’ll also be posting a couple more pieces with this pairing in the next couple weeks, so keep your eyes peeled if you liked this)

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It was the type of text you had gotten more than used to receiving from him over the past few months, smirking down at your phone as you waited for the elevator in his building.

“Need you so bad rn. Come over?❤”

The heart was a new addition, he must be feeling particularly needy today, you thought to yourself as the elevator doors finally opened.

Since the two of you had established this new part of your friendship, it was rare for you to go more than four or five days without receiving some variation of the same short message from him.

You were still slightly surprised by his text, seeing as you had only been over the night before, but you weren’t complaining by any means. Though you may have enjoyed pretending that Jungkook was the needier one in your arrangement, if you were completely honest, you were just as affected by him, finding yourself missing him on the nights you didn’t spend together.

When he opened the door, you noticed he looked a little more disheveled than usual, his hair sticking up all over the place, as if he’d been running his hands through it, a habit you knew he did when he was stressed.

“You got here fast.” He noted, letting you into the apartment.

“Well, your text made it sound kinda urgent, didn’t want to leave you waiting too long.” You said, wandering through into the living room, slowing to a stop as you caught sight of the chaotic state of the space, cleaning supplies and laundry scattered around, furniture moved all out of place.

“What happened in here?” You asked, turning back to Jungkook, who was now avoiding your eyes. “Koo?”

“I lied, I didn’t want sex.” He said guiltily, looking up at you. “I need you to help me clean.”

“I-, what?” You blinked at him, unsure if you heard him correctly.

He slumped back against the counter, looking stressed as he ran his hand through his hair again. ”My parents decided to surprise me by announcing they’re coming to visit tomorrow, but I’ve done nothing but sleep since I got home from tour last week, so the house is a fucking mess and everything’s a disaster and I need help, please.” He pleaded, staring at you.

You immediately began pulling your coat back on, turning back towards the door. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Y/n, please!” He quickly followed after you, catching your sleeve. “I’ll do anything you want! I’ll buy you dinner, I’ll rub your back, I’ll even let you pick what we watch for a month!”

You paused, turning to look back at him with a raised brow. “Even if I want to re-watch ‘Our Beloved Summer’ for a third time?”

He bit lip, trying to fight back a pained grimace before nodding slowly. “Whatever you want.”

You stared at him for a long moment.

“Fine.” You said reluctantly, caving as you saw the genuine desperation in his eyes. You could never say no to him.

“Thank you!” He sang, catching you in a tight hug and spinning you around in a circle. “I promise I’ll make it up to you!”

“Yeah, whatever,” You grumbled as he set you back on your feet. “Where do we start?”

“Laundry room?” He offered. “It’s mostly done, I just need to vacuum behind the machines.”

Do you really think your mom’s gonna look back there?” You raised a brow, following him down the hall.

“She’s very thorough.” He said seriously.

“Fair enough.” You shrugged. “I don’t quite see why I’m necessary for this part though?”

“I was afraid if I tried to clean back there by myself, I’d slip and get stuck or die.”

“So you want me to slip and die behind your washer instead?” You shot him an accusatory look.

“No! I’ll hold onto you and keep you safe,” He smiled reassuringly. “You know, like the buddy system.”

“I thought the buddy system was for camping so you didn’t get lost or eaten by bears?”

“It’s a multi-purpose system!” He said, his earlier agitation starting to flare up again at your teasing. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it, pass me the vacuum.” You relented, boosting yourself up on top of the dryer.

He held onto your hips to keep you balanced as you cleaned, his mind beginning to wander as he stared at your ass, his fingers starting to slowly knead your flesh absent-mindedly.

“Koo.” You warned, shooting him a quick look.

“Right, sorry.” He snapped back to attention, ceasing his movements and focusing back on the task at hand.

You finished up quickly, passing the vacuum attachment back to him and letting him help you down.

“Thank you.” He said.

“You’re welcome.” You answered, looking around expectantly. “What’s next?”

The apartment wasn’t nearly as bad of a mess as he claimed it to be, but it still took both of you several hours of work to get everything back in order, finishing off with laundry and changing all the bedding.

“Why are these sticky?!” You asked, mildly horrified as you helped him strip the sheets off his bed.

“Relax, it’s just caramel sauce.” He said.

You looked up at him confused. “We didn’t use-?”

“No no, that was just me,” He explained quickly. “I had ice cream last night.”

“Without me?!” You said, clutching your chest in feign hurt, making him roll his eyes as he let out a huff of laughter.

“I’ll add that to the list of things I need to make up for, okay?” He said.

“Eh, it’s better than where my mind went.” You said, only half joking as you grabbed the fresh sheets from him and turned back to the bed. “Almost thought you were fucking around behind my back for a second there.”

Facing away from him, you missed the way his expression suddenly turned serious as he looked at you. “I would never.”

It was strange, despite the supposedly ‘casual’ nature of your arrangement, you both found yourselves making little comments like that, words and exchanges that sounded a lot more like things said between a committed couple, rather than just two friends helping each other out till you found something more serious.

“Alright, I think that’s everything.” You said, snapping him out of his thoughts. You had finished making up the bed, even turning down the covers for him.

“Thank you, y/n.” He said gratefully. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Probably called Hobi.” You smirked, making him snort.

“Now, you promised me food, and if you lie to me twice in the same day, I’m dumping your ass.” You said, earning another laugh from him.

“Alright, whatever you want, just like I said.” He said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

“Although, if you wanted, I could make up for my false pretenses from earlier in a different way?” He offered, eyes darkening slightly as his hands drifted over your hips

You lightly shoved his hands away. “Not a chance, Loverboy, I’m way too tired now. You’ll have to try and ‘make it up to me’ some other time.”

“How about tomorrow?” He said, eyes twinkling mischievously, looping his arms around your waist instead to keep you close.

“I thought your parents were coming over tomorrow?” You reminded, raising a brow at him.

“You could come over after.” He suggested. “Hell, you could even come to dinner with us, my parents like getting to meet my friends.”

“Friends?” You looked up at him skeptically.

“Yeah, what?” He laughed, squeezing you lightly.

“Do you let your other friends suck your di-?”

“They don’t need to know the details of our relationship!” He said quickly, his face flushing slightly, making you snicker. “You’re still my friend, one of my best friends actually.” He added, in a soft tone.

The way he said it made your heart twist in a weird way, though you didn’t quite understand why.

“So?” He asked, staring down at you hopefully. “Will you come?”

You chewed your lip, considering. It felt like a really big commitment to meet his family, regardless of what your relationship was, but you tell it would mean a lot to him if you said yes.

“I’ll think about it.” You said finally.

He beamed.

“Thank you!” He said, leaning in to kiss you again, his lips lingering longer this time, tracing over yours lightly, making you shiver.

You pressed closer to him, hooking your arms around his neck as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue delve into his mouth as his hands grip on your waist tightened.

When you pulled back for air, his pupils were blown wide, eyes almost black as he stared down at you, breathing heavily.

“Take your shirt off.” You ordered, your breaths equally unsteady.

“But I thought you said-?”

“I changed my mind.” You cut him off, tugging at the fabric impatiently. “Shirt off, now.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn

[seat-safety-switch]

In another, lesser, life, I worked closely with some esteemed physicists. Yes, you guessed it: at the Space Institute. Founded by Colonel Eastman Space back in 1867, his goal was to get humanity on the moon so they could figure out just what the moon's deal was. He didn't live to see what it is today. In fact, I think he would be sickened, seeing all those degenerate astronaut types thoughtlessly ripping savage doughnuts on the surface of our planet's most precious satellite.

I don't know for sure, though. He died long before I myself reached the Institute. Long before I was even in high school, really. He popped off shortly after founding, from what his Wikipedia article thinks is either opium, mercury, or opium-laced mercury poisoning. Really puts a damper on the end of the "personal life" section, I'll tell you that much. What he did leave behind was a group of the finest nerds that had ever been assembled, and in the modern day they've passed that torch to even finer nerds, like when you buy Corn Flakes and the bottom of the bag is just a thick layer of weird powder that doesn't taste good.

Back then, I was really good at science. And by "science" I mean research. And by "research" I mean that I was the only theoretical physicist on the floor who wouldn't fall asleep trying to source replacement thrust washers for our Moonometer machine, which I was told was very important to studying the moon. I was told further that the Grainger catalogue is extremely boring to most mortals, and even though it wouldn't get me first-author on any of their papers, the fine work of the Institute could not be accomplished without my ceaseless toil, so I should not even consider doing anything else than playing Dr. Gofer for their every whim.

Far be it for me to stand in the way of progress, I figured, unless that progress involved creating any machine that speaks in a human voice. I laboured, bargained, sourced, and fixed all the other physicists' garbage, while they went to all the cool lunchtime meetings at O'Drunkohan's without me. Nobody got to hear my wild theories about why early American-Americans believed the moon was made of cheese. In the end, it turns out that I had been effectively demoted, quite unfairly, to a mere lab tech.

Joke's on them, though. I kept all the keys to the parts locker, and the number to their Grainger account. I'm sure someone has wondered occasionally why they still keep getting lab supplies even though I drove my Ramcharger through the office of Dr. Ostero as part of my resignation letter (the exclamation point part, to be exact.) Investigating exactly why, and determining just how many hundreds of thousands of dollars of scanning electron microscopes have been redirected into my garage, would require a practical physicist. Ain't nobody wants to touch that shit.

[marlynnofmany]

Fingernails and Fisticuffs

The box of miscellaneous engine parts slipped out of my grasp, catching a fingernail on the way down. I said, “Ow!” but was overshadowed by the loud clatter of washers and junk. Heads of several species turned from across the cargo bay. I reassured all my alien coworkers that nothing was broken.

“Are you okay?” Paint asked. She was the only one close enough to notice how I was shaking my hand, and worry was clear on her lizardy face.

“Yeah, just broke a nail,” I told her. “I didn’t think it was long enough for that. Ow.”

Paint looked at the box with alarm. “There are nails sticking out?”

“No, a fingernail,” I said, holding out a hand. “One of these. The little not-claws that humans have.”

“Not-claws?” Paint repeated. She stepped closer to get a proper look. Her expression was somewhere between distaste and pity. “I never really studied them before. They’re hollow! Just the top half! Why?”

I shrugged. “I guess we don’t really need proper claws anymore. Our distant ancestors had them.”

Paint looked scandalized. “How could you not need claws?”

Before I could come up with a good answer, Trrili walked by with a heavy pipe held in her pincher arms. I’d say she was looking down her nose at us, but she didn’t really have one of those. Just bug eyes, mandibles, and lots of opinions. She said, “No wonder humans like weapons so much, if you don’t even have sharp digits.”

“We can fight without weapons too!” I protested.

“Really,” Trrili said, stepping past to deposit the pipe beside several others with a loud clank. “How? You can’t bite like her,” she said with a flick of one antenna toward Paint. “Or even grapple like him.” The other antenna pointed out Mimi, tentacle-walking over like an octopus with a plumber’s belt.

“We can grapple pretty well,” I said. “But most of our fighting is punches and kicks.” I shadowboxed briefly, with what I thought were some pretty good moves. I even did a slow-motion roundhouse kick that brought my foot level with Trrili’s head.

She blocked it with a pincher. “Any Armorlite could hit harder, and so could half the Frillians I know.”

“Maybe, but they’re probably not as agile.” I bobbled and weaved.

“On two legs,” Trrili said, sweeping one of her own forward to try and trip me. I jumped over it, but she still wasn’t impressed. “Honestly, it’s a good thing you can climb things and fit into cabinets to hide, because the softest Mesmer child could defeat you in a fight.”

“Oh yeah? Bet you can’t do this.” I opened the box I’d dropped, dug out a metal washer, and laid it flat on the floor. “Pick that up.”

Trrili regarded me silently for a moment, pincher arms flexing and antenna doing a disapproving dance.

I just grinned at her. “What? It’s easy.” I scooped it up with one thumb and the finger with the longest nail. “…If you have fingernails.”

Mimi joined us, chuckling in his gravelly voice and plucking the washer from my hand. Paint giggled a little too, though stopped when Trrili glared at her.

“That’s beside the point,” Trrili declared. “What would you do if faced down with true danger, and no weapons in reach? And that includes rocks to throw; I know how fond you are of that.”

“I’d throw Mimi at it,” I said, pointing.

“Do not,” he said.

That just made Paint laugh again. Trrili was shaking her head.

“Hey, don’t underestimate some good problem-solving,” I said. “Especially if I’ve got time to prepare! There are some great trickster legends about humans who made traps for their enemies out of the most unlikely things.”

Paint asked, “Like what?”

Mimi interrupted, “Let’s get the supplies put away first, then have story time.”

“Of course,” I said, picking up the box. Mimi had already grabbed a couple of things out of it. “Blip and Blop will want to hear this too. And Trrili, I think you’ll appreciate some of those legends. Especially the ones about a human child left home alone when dangerous adults break into the house. Some of those traps were downright vicious.”

“That remains to be seen,” Trrili said.

I winked at Paint. “And some are funny.”

Storytime after dinner was a big hit. Blip and Blop enjoyed it so much that Captain Sunlight had to make everyone promise not to do any of that.

Unless, of course, the ship was ever attacked in a very specific way. She may have been taking notes for later.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[coolshadowtwins]

I have this au that just kinda… drops off half way through, which is why I haven’t posted it before. But I can’t think of anything else for it, so you get what little there is!

SXY manages to survive the poison when giving birth. Maybe it wasn’t as strong, maybe she managed to cut it off early enough, maybe LBH’s demon blood helped. Who knows. The point is, she is now half dead instead of fully dead, in a lot of pain, and has a newborn baby because she just gave birth! She’s just thinking about doing her original plan- sending LBH down the river- when a nice washer woman comes along and finds her.

I’m going to call her Ms Luo for this, since she doesn’t have a name in canon. Ms Luo is a kind woman! She’s kind of enough to take in a baby she has found in the wilderness, and she’s kind enough to take in this dying, half feral cultivator and her newborn baby as well!

SXY doesn’t trust it- obviously. But she doesn’t get much of a say when she falls unconscious, does she, hmmm? And she stays in and out of unconsciousness for the next few days, at least. The poi didn’t kill her, but it did mess her up. I imagine for this au it would limit her lower mobility, if it was trying to kill the baby. Some bad nerve damage there.

But Ms Luo is here! She doesn’t have much, but she does care for the baby as SXY is unconscious. She tries to get medication for SXY as well, but isn’t successful. Just as well- normal medication wouldn’t do much for what’s wrong anyway.

And this is the new normal that SXY wakes up to- a week plus later, her cultivation (which also would have taken a hit) having done its best at repairing the damage, her lover and the father of her child either dead or sealed away out of reach, and at the mercy of this random washerwoman.

She’s not getting any better until she could see a sect doctor, preferably one of the best ones. But that’s never going to happen- she’s wanted now, surely! Demonic sympathizers were never treated well. (The cultivation world thinks she’s dead, tragically killed by TJL. But she doesn’t know this yet.)

So she does the only thing she can- hang around and help Ms Luo out. She can’t leave, not with her mobility issues, nor would she be able to provide for her baby. But she can stay here, under the kindness of this woman, and try and help her out.

She starts to help wash the clothes- don’t have to be standing for parts of that! To save on food, she focuses her limited cultivation so she doesn’t have to eat the limited supplies they have. She’s terrifying, and she’s uses that to her advantage when intimidating Ms Luo’s shitty boss.

Ms Luo repays her by not only letting her live there, but also helping with LBH, giving SXY a new name to hide with, and her friendship. (SXY will never admit it, but she never had a lot of friends. Having one in Ms Luo was… nice)

LBH, meanwhile, is absolutely loving being raised by two moms. He’s learning to cook from Ms Luo, and learning cultivating from SXY. What else would a young boy need?

And then LBH is ten, and Ms Luo gets sick. Like, really sick. Nothing SXY, in her limited medical knowledge, does helps her. The town doesn’t have a clinic, and the nearest one is a while away. Not only that, they don’t have the money to go. SXY can see only one way to help her friend- go to the one place that (probably) wouldn’t turn her away for being a criminal when there’s a life of the line. CQM.

Cue a travel montage of SXY (who has limited mobility), Ms Luo (who is deathly sick), and LBH (who is ten), trying to get to CQM before it is too late.

They do make it there- only to be stopped at the stairs. They aren’t stopped by an actual person! They are stopped by the actual stairs. SXY can’t walk them. Ms Luo can’t walk them.

That leaves LBH, ten and scruffy and probably looking too thin, to be the one to climb the giant staircase, up to the sect in the heavens.

The last thought I have of this au is the funny image of whoever happens to be at the top of the stairs that morning, being greeted by what looks to be a street urchin tell you that his mother is the long thought dead SXY and that she’s down the stairs, along with his other mother (by the way, he has two), and both are dying. Would you believe him?

(I have nothing after this. Please, tell me in reblogs and replies about how you would continue this)

[forever-rogue]

I don’t know if you’re still taking requests, but I love your nurse!Steve fics and there’s something I wanted to suggest.

I would love to see a nurse!Steve fic where reader knows Steve has had a tough week and has been helping out (taking care of the house and of him) but at the end of the week she’s sent home from work because she caught a nasty stomach bug that’s been going around. She hopes to magically get over it by the time Steve gets home and (obviously) fails and Steve insists on taking care of her even though she feels guilty. She tries to downplay it even though she’s throwing up and Steve doesn’t understand why.

Thank you for your fics <3 they bring people so much joy ❤️

AN | Okay, but this is me too - I’d rather feel like death and do things for myself than ask for help. But Stevie won’t let his best girl suffer, no matter what 🥺 This can be read as a companion piece to the below but also as a stand alone!

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d seen about ten coworkers in the office leave early at various times this week due to falling ill. It was that wonderful time of year when something was inevitably going around and everyone was going through it, one by one. Immune systems were down and any sickness took full opportunity to strike. 

Given that, you shouldn’t have been surprised when it finally hit you. It appeared to be slowly working its way through to everyone at the office and you were the next unlucky volunteer. It started off with the classical sore and scratchy throat, followed by a headache, followed by an aching body, and then a wave of exhaustion. This was most definitely not good. Once your stomach started feeling off you knew that you were getting sick. And apparently you’d looked the part; your boss sent you home in the middle of the day when she decided that you seemed in desperate need of rest. 

You’d reluctantly agreed, knowing you didn’t have a choice. What you didn’t do, however, was call Steve and tell him what was going on. There was no way in hell that you were about to tell your overly caring, overly protective nurse husband that you weren’t feeling well. You knew that he’d drop everything as soon as you told, that him he’d leave work and rush home to you. And really, there was no need for him to do any of that. You’d be right as rain in a few hours - and that meant you weren’t going to worry Steve. 

And on top of it all, you weren’t about to add a single thing to Steve’s plate that you didn’t need to. He’d been working so incredibly hard at work, long hours with little thanks, on top of all the things he did at home. He really was an amazing man, always giving, giving, giving, and never asking for anything. But you wanted to give back to him, and tried to do as much as you could. 

Since you suddenly had half a day to yourself, you decided that you’d make use of your time. You were going to tidy up around the house, do all the laundry, and make dinner and dessert. That way Steve had a nice hot meal to come home to along with a clean house. Maybe you’d even convince him to take a bath with you to end the night on a calm note. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The house was quiet when you entered it, peaceful but that was quickly interrupted when a sudden coughing fit overwhelmed. Things were going downhill really fast. That was no matter, however, you were determined. You changed out of your work clothes and flipped into a pair of joggers and an old sweater of Steve’s before tossing the discarded items into the hamper and dragging the whole thing into the garage to start the first load.

Once the washer was going, you trudged back inside and grabbed a few cleaning supplies. You started off at the back of the house, giving the spare room a quick dusting (the very same one you hoped would one day be a nursery) before moving onto your bedroom. Luckily, the two of you were both fairly neat and tidy people so it really didn’t take much to get back into shape. By the time you reached the guest bathroom, your body was slowly getting more achy and tired, and you were definitely slowing down. 

 You made yourself push through it and eventually made it into the kitchen after switching over the laundry. 

“What to make?” you asked aloud to yourself, silently groaning at how bad your throat felt and you sounded. Reaching into the fridge, you grabbed a bottle of water and downed almost half of it in one go. Maybe that would help, although in the long run you knew where this was heading. You reached into the pantry and grabbed out some pasta and gathered up ingredients for sauce; that was something easy enough to make and delicious. 

Puttering around the kitchen you got everything going before making some brownies for dessert. Nothing fancy, but there was some leftover ice cream that would pair well with it. By the time the laundry was put away and finished, and dinner and dessert was ready, you were feeling completely drained. Steve would be home soon, but you decided that there was enough time to take a little bit of a rest. 

You sat down on the couch and grabbed one of the big fluffy blankets, curling up under it as you turned on the TV to the news. And then, after sitting for less than five minutes, you were fast asleep, head lulled to the side as you curled up and snored lightly. Your body had definitely won the fight with this one.

-─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sweetheart?” His voice was gentle but sounded distant. You felt something on your shoulder but couldn’t find it within yourself to open your eyes, “honey?”

“Hmmm?” it was then that you recognized it as Steve’s voice. Your favorite voice. A smile pulled across your face and you heard your husband tut softly at you. 

“Angel?” a gentle brush of a thumb over your cheek had you leaving into his touch, “you gonna wake up or am I going to have to tickle you?”

You peeked an eye open at the fond little threat and shook your head. He relaxed when he saw that you were awake, his own smile breathtaking, “no, please, have mercy on me!”

Steve’s smile quickly turned into a frown when he heard how terrible you sounded. And let’s be honest here - you sounded horrible. Almost as bad as you felt, “oh honey, honey. You’re sick.”

“No,” you pouted at him but he wasn’t buying it, “‘m fine, Stevie. Just a little tired.”

“You’re not fine, honey,” he brushed a few rogue locks of hair behind your ears, before kissing your forehead, “guess everyone else being sick finally caught up to you, huh?”

“Nuh uh,” you were feeling particularly stubborn today.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, but you thought it was obvious, “I would have come and could have taken care of you.”

“That’s why I didn’t call,” your throat felt parched, eyes dry and heavy, “I’m okay - I can handle it. Don’t want you to have to take care of me, Stevie. You work so hard and you’ve been so busy, you don’t need me to worry about it.”

“I work hard,” he acknowledged softly “but so do you. And on top of that, it’s not like it’s a chore - not when it’s you.”

“But-”

“But nothing,” he placed a gentle finger over your lips, giving you the sweetest and most gentle expression, “you’re going to rest, relax, and get better, and I will take care of you.”

“Steve,” his name was squished out against your lips which caused him to laugh slightly.

“I wasn’t aware that I left it to open for discussion,” he teased, “because it’s not. Husband and Nurse’s orders.”

“You’re never going to let this go, are you?” but you loved him. You loved him so very much that sometimes it felt like it was going to make your heart burst. You never knew you could love someone so much - until you met Steve. 

“Not a chance,” he whispered softly, “come on, let me make some dinner and then get you a hot bath.”

“I already made dinner,” a sheepish expression crossed your features as he chuckled softly, “and dessert. I, umm…I got sent home early from work and decided to use the free time to cook and clean.”

“Honey,” you playfully grabbed the blanket and pulled it over your face, a silly little attempt to hide from him. He waited a few seconds before he took the edge of it and pulled it away to reveal your face, “you’re telling me you got sent home from work and instead of taking care of yourself, you cooked and cleaned.”

“Yes?” you shrugged sheepishly as he sighed lightly, filled with nothing but reverent adoration. 

“I adore you beyond words,” he placed soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and nose, before stopping at your lips, “stubborn, silly, clumsy girl.”

“No kisses,” you pouted, “don’t wanna get you sick too.”

“Well, I’ve already been exposed to it by being around you,” he mused thoughtfully, “and I work in a busy hospital; at some point I’m bound to catch something, but we’ll save that worry for another day.”

You couldn’t help but throw your arms around his neck and pull him into your body, “I love you so much, Stevie. So, so much.”

“I love you too,” you could feel the smile on his lips as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “now, come on. Let’s eat and then we’ll relax, yeah?”

“Yes please.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Alright,” Steve was perched at the edge of the tub, making sure the water was perfectly warm to how you liked it and filled with the lavender scented bubbles, “I believe that this is a perfect bath. C’mere.”

You took a few steps closer to him, and he stood up, deft hands moving to strip off your clothing. You were like putty in his hands, letting him pull the sweater from your frame, lifting your arms so he could toss the article on the floor. He followed suit with your joggers, gently pulling them down your legs along with your panties; a shiver ran down your spine at the sudden chill and he quickly helped you to get into the tub. 

He helped you to settle into the water, playfully blowing some of the bubbles at you. Before he could pull away, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and looked up at him with the best puppy dog eyes you could muster up, “join me? Please?”

“You know I can never say no to you,” he took your hand and pressed a reverent kiss to your knuckles. He made quick work of discarding his clothes and tossing them into the pile with yours. He stepped in the water and sighed blissfully at the feeling of the warm water surrounding his tired body. He sat down across from you so he could see your pretty face, his legs surrounding yours, “ it should be a crime to be sick and still look this beautiful, you know.”

“Steve,” your entire face flushed with warmth as it was your turn to blow some bubbles at him, “you’re such a flatterer!”

“I’m a truther,” he insisted, giving your leg a soft squeeze. You shook your head fondly before lying against the back of the tub and looking at your husband. He did the same as you, both of you watching each other softly, “I love you, you know.”

“You love me?” you feigned shock, but let’s be honest, you really loved hearing it, “I’m shocked. I had no clue that Steve Harrington, the most wonderful, sweet, amazing, smart, and sexy man, loved me.”

“You’re such a brat,” he laughed, a pretty flush of pink welling up in his cheeks, “you shouldn’t be talking that much either, it’s only going to irritate your throat further. But you think I’m sexy, huh?”

“Stevie, you know you’re sexy. You’re so hot it hurts,,” you tried your best not to sound too croaky, as he beamed at you, “and I can’t help it. I always wanna talk to you!”

“I know baby,” he whispered, pretty smile on display, “we’ll just be quiet for a while, huh? And just so you know, I think you’re very sexy too, and beautiful, and smart, and everything.”

“Fine.”

“C’mere,” he gently moved towards you, pulling you into his arms as he settled under you and you rested on top of him. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “just relax. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve always got you.”

“I love you,” you closed your eyes and relaxed into him, giving his hand a tight squeeze, “so much.”

“I love you, angel,” he promised, “clumsy, stubbornness and all.”

[justastraymoa]

ADVENTURES WITH CHEESE EXTENDED EDITION PT 9

As soon as I saw Cheese I ran to him and scooped him into my arms. Cheese made an annoyed noise and wiggled, but I held firm.

“You had me worried to death! How could you do that to me!” I chastised in a cutesy baby voice. Cheese looked away, uncaring about the agony he caused me and the years of my life he took from me.

Beside me Chan gave Felix a hug clapping his back loudly. “Thank you so much man! We have been looking everywhere!”

Felix laughed uncomfortably. “No problem. I didn’t even recognize him; it’s been so long.”

“And he doesn’t like you because you scared his mother.” Lino put in as he came over to scratch Cheese behind his ear.

“That too.”

“This more than makes up for that. Seriously, thank you, Felix.” I added giving the man a relieved smile.

“You are such a naughty, naughty boy! You had daddy and mommy scared.” Lino lectured Cheese, who again was uncaring and just wanted to be put down.

A new person walked into the room with a wide smile on his face. “Apparently, he likes scaring people. He nearly had me jumping out of my skin hiding on the black rug and blending in.”

“This is Jisung, one of my roommates.” Felix introduced the new man. I nodded and smiled at him.

Chan chuckled. “Yeah, I changed my blankets because he blended in to well with my old ones. I kept sitting on him on accident.”

I jumped slightly as there was frantic pounding on the door. Jisung opened it to let in Bin and Hyune who looked like they ran all the way here from my old apartment. They immediately zeroed in on the cat in my arms.

Later on, that night as we all ate dinner (I hadn’t eaten all day and when Chan found out he scolded me like a dad for ten minutes) Lino brought up putting a chip in Cheese.

I shrugged. “Honestly it never occurred to me to do that. But it’s a good idea since he has gotten out twice now. And with you guys taking him on trips and crap.”

Lino looked relieved. “Exactly. And if this should ever happen again, we can find him right away.”

“Plus, I am going to take him to the vet anyways to get him checked over for injuries. I can just have them put the chip in then.” It would be a weight off my chest knowing that we had a very good chance of getting Cheese back right away if he escaped again. And most places have chip scanners now so if some nice person took him to a vet or animal shelter, they would be able to contact me.

I smirked at Bin. He had spent almost every second doing little things for me and Cheese to ease his guilt. I kept telling him it wasn’t necessary, but hell if he would listen to me. Instead, he actually let Cheese on his bed and made me my favorite snack before bed.

Cheese scratched at the door again mewing pitifully before turning his big boba eyes on me. “Nuh uh, mister. You aren’t going to cute your way out of this one. We are almost done then we can go home.” I reached a handout to offer pets, but Cheese ignored it, meowing loudly at the door again.

Cheese was so mad at me he slept with Chan for 3 days. But at least I knew that I could find him now and that he was okay and healthy.

Now the Chan Clan was gone for 2 weeks on a business trip, and I had the apartment all to myself. It was too quiet. I was used to there being noise always coming from somewhere.

I was used to being able to talk to one of them or show them a stupid video or meme I found of them that would make them laugh or blush. It was one of my favorite past times now. But it was lonely in this apartment without them.

I had spent a whole day distracting myself by cleaning everything I could get my hands on. Right down to washing and sanitizing Cheeses toys and putting his cloth toys and blankets in the washer. I even went through my dresser and filled a garbage bag full of clothes to donate.

Now everything was spotless and the whole apartment smelled like cleaning supplies, but I had nothing to do. Anytime I started to watch tv I would get to a part that I wanted to show one of the boys and remember again that they weren’t there. And a lot of shows I was watching with them, and I couldn’t watch without them here. That ruins all the fun.

Even cat movie Friday was a bummer. I watched the first movie I found that mentioned a cat. Turns out it was about a cat who was abandoned and spent the rest of the movie searching for his loved ones. I was sobbing the entire time.

My phone rang early the next morning with a video call from Lino.

“Melluh.” I mumbled still half asleep.

“I told you she would still be in bed.” Bins tiny voice came over the line and I opened my eyes in confusion.

All 4 of my boys were on the tiny screen of my phone. Squished together so they could all fit into the frame but looking happy enough. I sat up and rubbed my eyes trying to wake up. “S’okay. How are you? I miss you.” I mumbled.

“We miss you too, y/nnie!” Bin said way too loudly making me flinch slightly.

Hyune squinted and leaned closer to the phone. “You look puffy.”

“Gee, thanks oh so much. You look great. Like usual.” I rolled my eyes.

Hyune ignored me. “Have you been crying?”

This got everyone’s attention and they all suddenly looked very concerned. I waved their concerns away shaking my head. “Yeah. I watched a sad movie last night. It got me right in the feels.”

“You watched a sad movie for cat movie Friday? Why?”

I swear. “I didn’t do it on purpose! I just chose one at random and it happened to be sad. And then I couldn’t just stop watching because then I wouldn’t know what happened and it would bother the hell out of me!”

“Whatever, who cares. Where’s Cheese?” Lino asked. I glared at him. I know he cared about me, but sometimes his words did hurt a little.

“I’m hanging up.” I announced.

“No, wait, I’m sorry! It is good to see you too, just I need my fix of Cheese too, you know.” Lino was quick to back step.

I sighed at moved so Cheese was in the frame too. He was sleeping peacefully on the empty side of my bed, one of his blankets curled around him like a nest and him nestled inside nice and toasty warm.

There were 3 collective ‘awwwws’ which made Cheese crack an eye open before stretching out his front paws and yawning.

I did have to admit I saved the video and all the photos I could of the kitten interview on my phone. They were truly adorable and the interactions with them were funny as hell. Chan was such a little baby when it came to their sharp claws. And Lino was just chilling there like an expert cat whisperer playing with them and keeping them calm in his arms.

You would think Chan would be in better practice in dealing with cats now that he has lived with Cheese for so long, but apparently not. And Hyune was really about to love all Cheese privileges if he says one more thing about dogs being better than cats. That’s a crime in this house. And I will not stand for it!

A/N: Cheese is back home from his wandering! Now we can get back into his more fun shenanigans!

I hope you enjoyed and as always thank you for any and all interactions

Skz + pets masterlist

Taglist: @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor

[mysteriesmuse]

Kirishima and the Washing Machines

You lived in a pretty large apartment complex about 150 residents in all. And yet, somehow, you always found yourself using the washer and dryer after this one individual. Every. Time. 

And you now what, they never remember to clean out the lint tray after they’re done.  

You sigh through your nose, inching out the door of the lint tray and seeing a very full cage. Reaching in and deftly scooping it all up in one hand and dropping it into the trash can without second thought. 

Whoever this person was they had the most ridiculously long and lacking hair care routine ever. Seriously, 5-6 inch long firetruck red hairs that were coarse and fried to hell littered your clothes now. Probably because said person never emptied the lint tray after their laundry so now their hair littered your own wardrobe. And this would naturally urge anyone to choose a different washer and dryer out of the apartment laundromat. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried, it just seemed that whoever this person was seemed to read you mind — move laundry machines with you, so you’d given up.  

Subjected to a life of dyed red hair in all your clothing. A lifetime supply of lint rollers in hand at all times.  

And in Kirishima’s defense he was a busy prohero — but you’d never seen him in the apartment complex, much less seen him patrolling the neighborhood in order to make the connection.  

Although he’d seen you — only a handful of times though — over the past few months of living here. He thought you were pretty — the kind where you have to mentally acknowledge a strangers beauty just because they are so attractive.

Except for today. 

And You were having a good day.  

You’d hit massive stroke of luck to this week to find that this red-haired person and your secret domestic enemy hadn’t been to the laundromat before you. You couldn’t be more pleased as you sat down on one of the lobbies padded chairs. Content with sitting and reading your book as you waited for the little chiming song of the washer and dryer to alert you that this batch of clothes was free of a strangers weird hairstyle. 

And you were ready, sliding back in the chair, tittering your hips, slipping your finger between the fresh crisp pages and into the sweet spot where your little impromptu receipt bookmark lay nestled next to the spine — a perfect morning.  

you’d gotten through that euphoric breath part of the process before the awkward spinning doors to the complex blew open and you’d dropped the book into your lap — staggering in was a beefcake of a man.  

It was the first thing you noticed, and how could you not? The stranger was shirtless and only clad in a pair of worn joggers that bear the emblem of the most famous hero producing highschool — hung snuggly around his hips, but just low enough that you could see the elastic of his boxers peaking out. And up from there was the defined muscles of his abdomen, not full on bread rolls, but a smoother definition and one that fit him nicely. The slight healthy layer of fat smoothing over the man’s defined and sturdy trunk — which lead to a completely hairless chest — a conscious decision. And then his arms were huge like the rest of him, but had a very strange reverse farmers tan to them. Another conscious decision?  

You didn’t even make it to his face before he was already in the room — and he took up space.   

somehow you found the conscious effort to close your mouth when he turned in your direction flaming locks of hair reaching his broad shoulders. 

Beefcake had noticed you as soon as he had walked in. The gorgeous h/c woman. And he could see the whites of your eyes and the pink of your tongue from the door. 

He flashed you an award winning smile full of sharp canines before awkwardly tugging on a few small strands near his face. The book in your lap now open to a random page, a receipt lay fluttered close to your feet.  

Kirishima chuckled, deep and low, bending down on one knee to hand you the receipt that’d been flung out on the ground from your shocked stare — yeah, that was a perfectly normal reaction he got often as a pro.

 “Sorry to startle you, beautiful. Here’s your bookmark,” he said, holding it out to you. You blinked back surprised before taking it back from his outstretched hand rather stiffly. He could see a crinkle between your brows as you seemingly took in every single detail about his face — tongue prodding the corners of your mouth as you did so.  

You were not, in fact, openly checking him out as much as Kirishima was secretly kind of hoping — a reaction he would naturally have gotten fairly often since you presumed he was a hero of sorts with his build and those flashy alum joggers.  

No — you were busy studying his hair: eyebrows, eyelashes, stubble, the whole lot. All of it thick and black — unlike the hair on top of his head, but similarly matching with the sometimes atrocious roots on those long hairs from the laundry machine.  

“Aha—“ you thrust out the hand with the reciept and waved it in front of Kirishimas face. “It’s you! My laundromat enemy — you’re the guy that always forgets to empty the lint drawer!”

Kirishima blinked back at you crossed eyed. A vague recognition of what you were taking about slipping past his eyes like a montage. He couldn’t remember a single time where he emptied that lint drawer, now that you mentioned it. He swallowed thickly

“I — I, how? How do you know it’s me?” He garbled. 

You shoot him a pointed look that reminded him of his best friend, “You really think there’s that many other people around here with hair like yours?” You hummed, gesturing to his still damp locks. You answered for him, “yeah, me neither.”   

Kirishima was shocked at your certainty, but he was also pretty certain that you were absolutely right. He gulped nervously, adams apple bobbing in that thick neck of his. 

of course he had luck like this, upsetting the beautiful woman in the apartment complex before he’d even meet her. You called him an enemy. A domestic enemy — he was supposed to be a hero! 

He started, “Look . . .”

“Y/N” you supplied. 

“Look Y/N,” he said, noticing the way you perked up more at his use of your name. “I’m really sorry to have bothered you by forgetting to clean out the lint in the dryer. There’s no excuse for me forgetting, or actively ignoring, that in a communal space. That’s really un-neighborly of me and I promise to actually take the time to do it from now on.”  He finished, hand strapped across his heart like a knight of old making a pledge to you.  

he watched as you slowly uncrossed your arms and tapped at the cover of your book. Your eyes of some beautiful color — that he would commit to memory if you looked up at him, stared down in your lap.  

He put placed his hands on the side of the armrests, pleading with the best puppy dog eyes he could give, “anything I can do to make it up to you?” Practically begging. 

you looked up, ahh so they were e/c then.  

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, nose wrinkling. 

He seemed genuine, and charming and polite, but he was large and intimidating — and in your personal space, “you do owe me quite a handful of change in lint roller money.”  

Kirishima grinned, that he could do. 

“How about I take you out — this time, next week. There’s a really cool bookshop cafe on my patrol route. I’ll come by and pick you up.” He noticed your hesitation, a worrying shimmy closer to the back of the seat and away from him. He removed his hands from the armrests and reached for the wallet in his pocket, “— we could just walk then, if that’s not comfortable for you. Or you could meet me there. Here see, Kirishima Eijirou prohero alias Red Riot.”  

That caused you to relax and lean forward, as you examined his hero license.  

He really was a hero. You were already pretty sure with those UA joggers, but it felt good to know you were right. One that wore an oddly terrifying dog-muzzle? You glanced back up at his strong jaw littered with a stiff 5 o’clock shadow. And surely enough there were faint lines of pale skin surrounding his mouth and just under his eyes that confirmed the weird existence of this accessory. Again, what is with the fashion choices here??

You raised a brow, “Ever think this is a little unusual for a hero?” You asked pointing at his ID.  

Red Riot glowed like his namesake. “I thought it was cool back in highschool — now it’s part of my image.” He chuckled, a hand touching at the place where it would be.  

you wondered what that would feel like having that cage against your skin all the time — surely uncomfortable.

Kirishima wondered if you’d consider yanking him by those bars to bring him into a kiss. Metal clanking on metal as the pretty ring on your finger gripped around the edges of its frame. If you’d be a woman he could come home to after a long mission and be fall into lovingly seering embrace like some of his pals. . . 

Clearly two very different trains of thought going on here, but Eijirou was always a hopeless romantic at heart and nothing but a gentlemen. 

He heart leapt into his throat when you placed a cool hand against his forearm with a little conformational pat, “I’ve got work next week, but I’ll go ahead and meet you there.”  

He grinned standing up to his full height and pocketing his wallet, face morphing as a realization dawned on him. He quickly scrambled for his phone, “I — wait you don’t have my number and I haven’t even told you where it is. And it’s pretty far, so I don’t think you’d know it — because it’s all the way in Fatgums district and —“  

and now you were laughing at him. Kirishima tucked a thick strand of hair behind his ear as he looked down at you — washing machine songs lighting up the atmosphere.  

“Actually I do have your number. We — apparently — live on the same floor, Kirishima.” You snorted holding out your phone with the familiar floor group text that he was apart of. A ridiculous dorky contact photo of himself as Crimson Riot as the contact photo he send in the chat.  

Plus Ultra! Forget red, crimson — he was scarlet right about now.  

“Ah right . . .”  

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you waved, “you’re much cuter in person. Ya know, for a laundromat menace.”  

Kirishima scratched awkwardly at his chest which was hardening there randomly — oh wait nope, it’s because he heart was thumping a mile a minute and he was on a mad adrenaline rush right now in the middle of the apartment complex lobby bc was talking to the beautiful stranger of his complex. 

You rose from your chair and stood in front of him, book clutched to your chest. 

the only thought running through his head was don’t move. And you watched as this handsome young pro hero stood stock still — every muscular plain of his body becoming rock hard and just towering over you.  

the chimes started up again. 

“Uh excuse me, you’re kinda blocking the entire door?” You giggled. 

In a flash this Kirishima was hardening even more and now you could clearly see a set of abs in the early morning dim lobby light as he stepped further into the elevator so he wouldn’t be crushed — although with that quirk you think the elevator might take most of the damage. 

Now he was too cute.  

And as he backpedaled into the elevator you could hear him audibly sigh with relief as the sound of your book pages started flicking. 

“Kirishima—“  

he looked down, the apples of your cheeks light and bouncy — such a pretty little smile on your face, “you should really invest in some conditioner.”  

And the last you saw was a sliver of a grin and framing tan lines from that muzzle/cage looking mask of his. He beamed staring at the space you were in before the doors closed, a blissful whisper as he realized he was replying to an empty elevator, “yeah I do.”  

[noona-clock]

Are You Sure? - Part 6, Final Chapter

Genre: Exes to Lovers, Fluff, AU

Pairing: Jungshin x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Epilogue | Words: 3,644

Mere seconds after hearing the door lock, you hoisted your armload of napkins into the washer and dashed over there. You grabbed the door handle with both hands, shaking and jiggling it to make sure you'd heard what you thought you'd heard.

And, yes. You had. The door was locked.

Since neither you nor Jungshin had yet found the light switch, you felt around the handle to see if there was a thumb turn or a keyhole or anything.

Of course, there wasn't.

So, you slid your hands along the door itself, trying to feel for something you could use to unlock the door from the inside.

Nothing.

You decided it was now time to resort to desperate measures: you balled your hand up into a fist and banged on the door.

"Hello?" you called out, pressing as close to the door as you could in an attempt to get anyone outside to hear you better. "Hello?!"

Suddenly, the closet filled with a somewhat dim light, and you lifted your gaze to see Jungshin standing right behind you, lowering his hand from the short chain attached to a lightbulb on the ceiling.

Well, at least you weren't in almost total darkness anymore.

Jungshin then reached over you and began knocking on the door. "Is anyone out there?" he asked, his voice raised.

"Hello?" you repeated, continuing your own knocking. But when it became clear no one could hear you, you paused and tilted your head up to make eye contact with Jungshin. "Do you have your phone? Mine's in my bag at my table."

Jungshin raised his eyebrows and immediately reached into his back pocket. "Yeah, right here."

You turned around, leaning your back against the door as you watched him clicking around the screen, presumably calling Yonghwa. And in the few seconds of silence, you couldn't help but lift your hand to your mouth to anxiously chew at your cuticles.

"It doesn't make sense," you whispered to yourself. Why would someone have locked the door? It almost felt --

"Hey, can you come unlock that supply closet?" Jungshin's voice rang out suddenly, and you almost jumped.

Your gaze nervously flew to his face, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw his forehead wrinkle.

"Wait, what? No, Yonghwa, wait --"

Jungshin let out a sigh as the hand holding his phone fell away from his face. He looked entirely defeated, and you were almost too scared to ask. But you knew you had to.

"What?" you breathed.

Jungshin just barely glanced at you, and... wait, were his cheeks turning pink, or was the lighting in here just weird?

"I... I think..." he began. "I think we're being set up."

Your head jerked back in surprise. "Set up?" you asked. "What do you mean?"

"Yonghwa said they wouldn't unlock the door until we've had time to talk."

You wanted to laugh, but all the air in your lungs had suddenly vanished.

What was he talking about? Who was 'they'? Until you had time to talk? About what?

"So, I'm guessing Emily asked you to help clean up and take those," Jungshin nodded toward the open washer with your napkins inside, "in here?"

You simply nodded.

Jungshin nodded, too. "Yonghwa got me to do the same thing with the tablecloths."

With a small shake of your head, you were finally able to take a breath and say something. "So, you're saying that Emily and Yonghwa... locked us in here together on purpose?"

"Yep."

Sure, that's what you'd been about to think not even a minute ago. It almost felt intentional. But to hear it said out loud? And have Jungshin confirm it? This was crazy!

"...But why? Talk about what?"

Deep down, you knew exactly what you needed to talk about. You just wouldn't admit it unless Jungshin did first.

Instead of answering you, though, Jungshin let out a deep sigh and turned on his heel, walking toward the other end of the closet.

You watched as he ran his hands over his face before turning around once he got to the wall opposite you.

"Talk about what?" you repeated shakily. He was only making you more and more nervous!

His gaze met yours then, and you held your breath.

"Talk about us," he answered.

Your first instinct was to play dumb, so that's what you did. "What about us?"

A wry but also embarrassed smile tugged at Jungshin's lips, and he chuckled dryly. "Okay, maybe just me then."

"What are you talking about?" you asked. Guilt crept into you as you heard the impatience in your voice, but you really needed him to be straightforward right now! Something was holding you back from telling him the truth (that 'something' being 'fear and anxiety'), and if he just told you how he felt, you were confident you could be honest with him, too.

"I still have feelings for you, okay?!" Jungshin snapped. It was obvious he had also heard the impatience in your voice and was only feeding off your anxious energy.

A tense cloud filled the space between the two of you. You could hear Jungshin breathing heavily, and your heart hammered inside your chest.

Words kept forming on your tongue, but every time you opened your mouth to say something, you lost your nerve.

So, finally, after probably two or three minutes, you said, "Can you turn around?"

Jungshin, god bless him, granted your request with no further questions. He turned around to face the wall, and you found yourself following suit, turning to face the door.

You took a deep breath, resting your forehead against the cool wood of the door. "I think I have feelings for you, too, I just don't know if getting back together is a good idea."

You squeezed your eyes shut, anticipating the sound of Jungshin turning back around and walking toward you.

But he didn't. His voice was a bit muffled when he asked, "Why not?" so it was obvious he was still facing away from you.

"I don't know," you told him truthfully. "I think I'm just scared of breaking up again. I don't want to go through that a second time."

You hadn't ever said this out loud, not even to Emily (though she knew, anyway), but the past few months had been rough. You'd known your decision had been fully justified and was a totally valid reason to break up with someone. You'd known it was the right decision in the long run for your mental health. But your heart had still been absolutely shattered.

I mean, you'd changed your flight so you wouldn't have to be on the same airplane as him, for goodness sake! Yes, you'd wanted to avoid as much awkwardness as you could, but you also just hadn't been ready to be in the same space!

"Do you remember," Jungshin began, "when I said that I would regret losing you for the rest of my life?"

Your throat tightened with emotion. "Yes," you croaked.

"Does that sound like I would ever let us break up again?"

...Well. He had you there!

You heard him moving, so you turned your head to the side to glance at him. He had, indeed, turned around to face you, the most earnest and adorable expression on his face.

"I meant everything I said at dinner last night," he assured you. "All of the things you said when you left, I took them to heart. I'm learning from my mistakes. And when I said I was working on becoming a better partner... I meant for you."

You had also turned to face him as he'd been speaking, your forehead wrinkling deeper and deeper the more he said.

Jungshin took a couple of steps forward before continuing. "I didn't come here to try and get back together with you," he clarified. "But I figured I would just let the chips fall where they may and see what happened."

"And the chips fell on the airplane," you muttered.

"Yeah," Jungshin chuckled. "I saw you, by the way. But I could tell you were trying to hide from me, so I pretended I didn't."

You rolled your eyes as you breathed out a laugh and shook your head gently at yourself. "But then I physically ran into you, and you couldn't ignore me any longer."

"No," he corrected, eyebrows raised. "I wasn't ignoring you. I was trying to be considerate of your feelings."

Your gaze fell, landing on your feet because you weren't sure you could look him in the eye when you said, "You're right. I was the one ignoring you."

You heard shuffling footsteps, and you saw the tips of Jungshin's shoes come into view.

"And you had every right to ignore me," he acknowledged, his voice soft. "In fact, you could ignore me forever if that's what you really wanted."

A fleet of manic butterflies had taken up residence in your stomach, and you still couldn't quite bring yourself to look at him.

"Is it?" he asked. "Is that what you want? Because if it is, just tell me, and I'll --"

This got you to raise your head, your gaze snapping to meet his. Wordlessly, you shook your head.

Before now, you hadn't been sure what you really wanted. Had you known you'd definitely fallen for him again? Yes. Had you admitted that maybe you hadn't actually ever stopped loving him? Pretty much, yes. But the idea of getting back together had, as you'd told him just a few minutes ago, been too scary.

As soon as Jungshin had suggested you could ignore him forever, you realized that would be impossible. Even if you wanted to -- which you didn't -- you couldn't ignore him. You couldn't ignore the connection the two of you had and would always have.

You felt all of your emotions bubbling up, your eyes welling with tears. Happy tears, frustrated tears, sad tears.

"Come here," Jungshin whispered, reaching out and pulling you to him. He lifted one hand to cradle the back of your head while the other slid around your back, holding you firmly.

And just like that, your thoughts from earlier today of curling up against his chest and burying your face in his neck and feeling his arms around you and being overwhelmed by his scent became reality.

Honestly, 'overwhelmed' was the best word to use because that's exactly what you were at the moment. It was overwhelming to be in Jungshin's arms again -- so much so that the tears which had welled up in your eyes were now spilling over.

You sniffled, and Jungshin began patting your back. He nestled his cheek against your hair, murmuring into your ear that it was okay.

"Cry if you need to, baby," he said in a soothing voice. "It's all right, you're safe here."

His words made you lift your head just enough to look at him, your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Who are you?" you asked with a watery chuckle.

Jungshin smiled as he tucked some hair behind your ear. "I'm me but better."

That was certainly the truth. The Jungshin of old wouldn't have said those words out loud. He had comforted you when you'd needed it, of course, but never like this.

...And you weren't going to lie. Hearing him call you 'baby' again made you feel as if flowers and rainbows were bursting out of your heart.

So, you pressed your face back into his neck, sliding your arms around his waist and clutching his shirt tightly in your fists.

Who knows how many minutes later, once you'd emptied your emotional reserve, Jungshin leaned back and searched your face.

(You really didn't want to know what you looked like at the moment, even though you knew Jungshin had seen you in much worse situations.)

"You good?" he murmured as he cupped your cheek gently, swiping his thumb under your eye and across your cheekbone.

"Yeah," you whispered with a tiny nod.

Jungshin leaned in and pressed a soft but quick kiss on your forehead before reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone. As he called Yonghwa, you took the opportunity to cuddle against him once more. You felt him wrap his free arm around you, his hand coming up and gripping your shoulder.

How did this still feel so familiar? You hadn't hugged or cuddled him in what felt like so long, and yet, now that you were, it felt as if no time at all had passed.

"Hey, come unlock the door," Jungshin muttered. You felt the vibration of his voice in his chest against your cheek, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Yup," he continued. And then, with a single hum, he hung up. "He's coming. And you don't have to tell him anything. Actually, you just go get your bag and go back to your room. I'll handle Yonghwa."

You simply nodded, though you could feel your cheeks already starting to warm at the thought of seeing Yonghwa -- or Emily -- or anyone -- after what had just happened. Normally, you wouldn't appreciate someone telling you what to do like Jungshin just had, but in this case, going to get your bag and then going back to your room was exactly what you needed.

Not even a minute later, you heard the telltale sounds of keys unlocking the door. Instinctively, you stepped away from Jungshin, not wanting Yonghwa (or Emily, or anyone!) to make any assumptions about what had happened in this closet. You had nothing to be ashamed of, of course, but still. You didn't like being the center of attention in any situation!

As soon as the door opened, Jungshin gently put a hand on the small of your back and made sure you were able to leave first. You quickened your pace, feeling his hand fall away from you before you heard him say, "Dude. That was not cool."

You couldn't help but chuckle softly to yourself as you made your way over to the table where you'd been seated for dinner, snatching up your bag and then making a beeline to the elevator.

A hot shower and a plush bathrobe sounded so good right now.

A very long, deep sigh escaped your lips as you flopped back onto your bed about half an hour later. You were clean, refreshed, and cozy after showering and changing into your pajamas -- now it was time to get even cozier under the luxuriously soft covers of your hotel bed while you watched a fluffy rom-com on TV.

Just as you reached for the remote, your phone lit up with a text.

From Jungshin.

Are you still awake?

You quickly replied that you were, and then you anticipated his phone call. This had been a regular occurrence during your relationship: he would text you to make sure you weren't sleeping, and then he would call you for a nightly debrief to talk about your days.

But instead of a phone call, you just got another text.

Can I come to your room?

Oh. He wanted to talk in person.

It totally made sense because the two of you had admitted to having feelings for each other, but you hadn't actually decided verbally to get back together. Since tomorrow was the wedding, it did kind of feel like 'Now or Never.'

So, you sent back a message saying he absolutely could and included your room number.

As soon as he sent you a thumbs-up, your immediate instinct was to get out of bed, put on actual clothes, and take your hair out of the messy bun you'd thrown it into before your shower.

But you stopped yourself because this was Jungshin we're talking about. He'd seen you with and without makeup, hair done and not done, dressed up and dressed down, healthy and sick. If he cared what you looked like, then he definitely would've broken up with you a long time ago!

So, you simply stayed snuggled under the covers until you heard a knock on your door.

You shuffled over, letting out a deep exhale before opening it.

Jungshin barely gave you any time to process his arrival before he stepped inside and slid his arms around your waist, pulling you tightly to him.

"Oh," you chuckled, your arms instinctively winding around his neck. "Hi."

"Hi," he murmured, squeezing you gently and lifting you just slightly off the ground.

You figured he would put you back down and let go of you after a couple of seconds, but he continued hugging you for what seemed like a minute or two.

"All good?" you finally asked softly.

Jungshin let out a groan as he set you on the floor and unwound his arms, stepping back enough so he could look at you.

"All good," he answered. "I just missed you."

His words made your heart flutter and your cheeks warm; you were too shy to say anything back at the moment, so you simply ushered him over to your bed so you could sit and talk.

Unsurprisingly, Jungshin sat right next to you, though the two of you angled yourselves so you could sit more face-to-face. But Jungshin had always been a pretty affectionate boyfriend, so he made sure his knees were touching yours, and he almost immediately put a hand on your leg.

"So," he began. "I realized that we kind of left things up in the air. I mean, not really, but --"

"Yeah," you agreed.

Jungshin raised his eyebrows a bit and said slowly, "So... are we... back together?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, taking Jungshin's hand off your leg and holding it in both of yours. Your heart flipped at the feel of his fingers grasping yours.

"On the condition that we leave the past in the past, and you never, ever apologize again for why it ended," you told him, your gaze fixed on your hands.

Jungshin squeezed your hand before answering with, "Deal."

"And I promise I won't bring up the way it used to be and use it against you, even if I get really, really upset," you added.

A frown pulled at your lips when Jungshin gently extracted his hand from yours, but then he curled it up into a fist, sticking his pinky out toward you.

Your frown quickly turned upside-down as you did the same with your own hand, hooking your outstretched pinky around his and bringing your thumbs up together to stamp the promise.

As soon as you let go, Jungshin ever so delicately tackled you back onto the bed. You had barely shrieked in surprise before he settled in, cuddling up next to you while still half-pinning you down.

"Okay," you chuckled, pulling one arm out from underneath him so you could comb through his hair with your fingers. "I guess you're staying here tonight?"

Jungshin simply hummed and then pressed his face into your neck. His breath against your skin raised goosebumps all over you, and then when he inhaled quickly, preparing to say something, it made you shiver.

"Is it weird to say that I missed the smell of your soap?" he murmured. "And is it also weird to say that I'm glad you didn't change the soap you use?"

"No," you laughed. "In this situation, I don't think it's weird. It would be if I'd never met you before in my life."

Jungshin's breathy chuckle made you shiver again, but then he promptly lifted his head up to look at you.

"Wait, I got ahead of myself," he stated, his brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

"We made our pinky promise, and we stamped, but we didn't seal it with a kiss."

A smile burst onto your lips, but you tried to hide it with an astonished gasp. "Oh, my, you're right. That's critical."

You watched as he hoisted himself up onto his elbow, lifting his other arm up so he could cradle your cheek.

And when his lips met yours?

If you'd had any doubts up until now (which you hadn't, of course, but hypothetically), this kiss would have crumpled them up and thrown them out the window.

Remember when Emily asked you on the phone just yesterday if you were sure about coming to the wedding, and you had answered that of course you were sure?

You couldn't help but feel that maybe, deep down, you'd known this would happen. Deep down, you'd known that a part of you missed Jungshin. That a small but essential piece of you had gone missing when you'd left him and hadn't yet been found. And because you knew all of this deep down (deep, deep down, if you were being honest), that's what made you sure you were doing the right thing.

Well, that and because Emily was your best friend, and you would've only missed her wedding in the event of a dire, tragic, and inescapable emergency.

Speaking of Emily...

You were really not looking forward to telling her in the bridal suite tomorrow morning that her little 'Lock Them Together in a Closet' plan had actually worked. She'd never let you forget that she (and Yonghwa) were the reason you and Jungshin were back together! You'd made a pinky promise with your former ex-boyfriend to leave the past in the past, but your best friend certainly wouldn't make such a promise.

But what else are friends for, right? They're for supporting you in your time of need. They're for showing up at one of the most important events in your life.

And they're for locking you in a closet with your ex-boyfriend so the two of you will finally realize you're still meant to be.

Of that, you were sure. Absolutely, positively, completely, and utterly sure.

Epilogue

[novasintheroom]

005. Simplicity

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.5k

♡ Warnings - none

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3!

The tumble of machines is quiet. Surprising, for a large city like April. But, you suppose that was a perk of a hole-in-the-wall laundromat – no one is coming here to party.

Swirls of water and color dance along the wall. Dryers shake against each other. An oldie station plays overhead, a song crooning out tunes from a long-dead artist. You stand by a dryer, waiting anxiously for it to signal that it’s done.

BEEEEEP. It slows to a stop, and you open the lid. With a sigh of relief, you tug out Vash’s red coat. The blood stains are gone. There are no new tears, just the ones you’ll have to sew up when you get back to the inn. You hold it up to your nose and breathe in the fresh cotton scent from the soap you’ve bought. It doesn’t smell like him anymore. You’d need to fix that.

After checking on your washer for yours and his spare clothing, you trek back to the front. Vash sits on a chair in front of the windows, idly leafing through one of the old magazines the laundromat stocks. Without preamble, you toss the coat over his head.

Vash sputters a yelp, then gently draws off his coat. “Oh,” he says, and takes a big sniff. “That smells good!”

“Right?” You sit next to him and fiddle with the sleeve. “Now all we need to wash is you.”

Vash guffaws and gives you a look. “Are you saying I smell?” When you make a face, he gasps. “That’s so mean!”

“Stinky,” you say, then lay your head on his shoulder. He forgives easily and lays his head on yours. “It’s got another fifteen minutes before I can switch it to the dryer,” you tell him.

He hums. “Do you want to go get something to eat? Are you hungry?”

“Are you hungry?”

“I asked you.”

“Yeah, but you only ever ask when you’re getting hungry.”

Vash laughs, caught. “Yeah, I’m getting a little hungry. But we can wait ‘til the loads done.”

You shift to push your head a bit more onto his shoulder. “What kind of food do they have in April? I smelled some ramen, I think.”

“They have all kinds. We should try all of them while we’re here. Especially the chocolate-and-raspberry donuts.”

You laugh. It’s a treat to be in a big city. Not often do Plants cry out in them – they have plenty of Plant engineers ready to aid their power supplies – but one called to Vash, and he needs to answer. The laundry facilities and real, cooked street food are a plus for the journey. You pat his thigh. “We’ll get some good treats, don’t you worry.”

It’s nice to sit and rest. No running, no bounty hunters (yet), just the hum of drying machines and the splash of cleaning water. A woman sits in the far corner, turning her own magazine while her little boy presses his nose to one of the washer windows. A trolly rolls by outside. The simplicity of it all is not lost on you. Not today.

Vash must feel it too. He presses a kiss to your head and mutters, “Love you.”

You smile and whisper back, “Love you too.”

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

A U.S. Farming Giant Gets a Message 11 Stories Tall

Two weeks ago, on a rooftop 11 stories above São Paulo, a popular Brazilian street artist, Mundano, sat on an overturned bucket, mixing water, varnish and ash collected from fires that had ripped through a Brazilian rainforest to create a palette of gray tones.

Over the ledge awaited a newly whitewashed, 15,000-square-foot wall of an elegant apartment building in plain view of the buses and cars heading down a main artery leading to the city center.

That evening, he and five assistant artists would start painting a massive mural of an Indigenous leader, Alessandra Korap, in a scorched Amazonian landscape, holding up a sign urging Cargill, the Minnesota-based agricultural giant, to rid its supply chain of crops grown on recently deforested land.

The project is a collaboration with the conservation nonprofit Stand.Earth, which is funding the mural as part of a campaign targeting Cargill.

The final result is to be officially unveiled on Wednesday, though it is hardly a secret to the supermarket shoppers, passers-by and those who work in the small shops that surround a parking lot below the mural.

“I’m already tired and we haven’t started yet,” said Mundano, whose (rarely mentioned) first name is Thiago.

The mural is near a main street leading into the center of São Paulo.

Over long days and some nights, Mundano and his assistants worked from eight suspended scaffolds (like the ones window-washers use).

They used paints made with ash from fires in the Atlantic Rainforest in Brazil, mud from floods that destroyed swaths of the southern Brazilian state of Rio Grande do Sul, charcoal from charred Amazonian trees and clay from drought-plagued river basins across the country.

“I’m connecting the droughts and the floods and the fires because it’s all linked,” said Mundano, who claims this will be Brazil’s largest mural painted with only natural materials (plus a water-based acrylic varnish), a style that has become his trademark.

The final step was to fill in the six-story-high sign held in the mural by Ms. Korap, a member of the Munduruku tribe who was raised in Pará state. It reads: “Stop the destruction” in English and Portuguese, with the hashtag #KeepYourPromise.

The “promise” refers to a pledge Cargill made in November 2023, setting 2025 as a deadline “to eliminate deforestation and land conversion from its direct and indirect supply chain” of soy and other crops in Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay. Cargill is one of the largest exporters of Brazilian soy.

Continue reading.

[imreadydollparts]

A bit of a ramble.

I was asked if I had a pony salon wish list by a repeat customer that was interested in replenishing my supplies a bit.

I do, but it's not exactly what you might expect because part of how I can keep my salon fees so very low is that most of those supplies are paid for by my S.O. as we can grab them at the store during our regular grocery run.

But it got me thinking: Would people be interested in knowing what I use a lot of?

I've shuffled the wish lists around a bit to make them more sharable (because they were a mess), and will talk a little bit about what I use and how.

(I know punctuation and capitalization in a bullet list doesn't go like this. I don't care.)

bubble wrap is used to protect ponies in shipping

40Vol is 12% hydrogen peroxide cream, which is what I use to "retrobright" yellowed vinyl in the SunBox and it will sometimes remove stains - I don't use this up very quickly, surprisingly

I will use any dish soap, but that's the one I'm using right now because I had bought it to wash dishes but the whole family doesn't like the scent so I took it down to the salon to use up. I'll get something else when this runs out, which won't be for some time

Garnier Fructis Sleek & Shine conditioner isn't really great for repeated application to people-hair because it does build up over time, but it's excellent for a single application on synthetics. Well conditioned hair flat irons better than dry hair (and feels nicer, too).

I absolutely burn through melamine sponges. They're excellent at removing grime from vinyl that doesn't come off with a gentle hand-washing or toothbrush scrubbing. Anything acetone can take off, a melamine sponge can, just slower. Melamine sponges are micro-abraisives and will take the shine off of things.

larger envelopes for larger numbers of ponies sold on eBay

smaller envelopes. I prefer these envelopes to boxes because it keeps the shipping weight down, and ponies do just fine wrapped in paper, then bubble wrap, then in an envelope. For larger orders I reuse boxes from other things.

packing tape doesn't need much explanation. I tape boxes shut with it.

I wrap every pony in packing paper both to help keep their hair in place during shipping and to keep them from touching each other in the case that one has that particular yellow hair that likes to stain when it gets hot, or has colorant leeching that I don't want to transfer from one pony to another

cellophane tape is used to close the paper towel strips that I use to set their hair

Paper towels are cut into strips to use as hair setting strips, used to clean up areas that I don't want the mess getting onto my work cloths (I do mean cloths, not clothes) nor in my washing machine like rusty oxy clean goop, rusty tail washer chunks, or bits of hair that were combed out. I also use paper towels to strain the cleanser bath when I'm doing deflockings. I prefer to put all those little bits of plastic filament in the trash rather than down the drain. I'd like to get some full-size paper towels for straining flocking fluids because the perforated line is a weak point that sometimes breaks but it seems they're all half-size, now. Coffee filters are too slow and get gunked up too fast by the debris and glue residue from deflocking.

acetone is used to remove factory paint, or you know how sometimes paint from something else sticks to a pony, and smooth out rough areas

L.A.'s Totally Awesome concentrate has many uses in my salon. I use it to remove Mattel head glue, deflock ponies, and remove nail polish from areas where acetone would remove factory paint

This is is the things I wouldn't mind getting for the salon.

You may or may not know that the salon is currently mostly in the basement bathroom. Don't worry, no one uses that bathroom, so there are no potty particles flying around.

Towels are just for laying out on the wire shelves where I dry ponies, or laying on the floor when I need more room to dry ponies. I often do a hundred or so ponies all at once and need a lot of space to work.

There is no counter space in there at all, and it's honestly very difficult to work in there. As such, I've been looking at adjustable work benches because I have to accommodate the toilet and shower if I want to put in some work surface. It's a whole thing.

UVC light is the kind of UV light that kills off bacteria and fungus. Right now I have UVA lights in my SunBox for "retrobrighting" and wouldn't mind adding a little UVC lamp in there, just to help with cleanliness and probably also would help with smells.

The sink in there is teeny tiny and very difficult to work in, so an extension for the faucet would be really handy. I'd rather replace the whole sink, to be honest, but that's not in the cards at the moment.

A thermal printer would be really handy and let me no longer be reliant on the inkjet printer for which the ink cartridges are being discontinued, soon, and will become difficult to get a hold of. I honestly don't know if THAT one will work with my computer (I don't think my computer has Bluetooth), it's just a placeholder, really.

Obviously this isn't EVERYTHING that I use in the salon. I have an ozone generator for bad smells, paint and paint brushes, combs, brushes, flat irons, crimpers, curling irons, straws to curl hair, pipe cleaners, a massive stash of doll hair........

There's quite a lot going on down there, really.

(Since I'm putting wish lists anyway, here's the art supplies list: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/264SH6D7R373P?ref_=wl_share )

[heaven-s-black-box]

Forgotten Love- Soulless!Jack x Fem!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: November 13th, 2020

Description: Reader and Jack talk about how he feels without his soul.

Notes: N/A

Word count: 888

Back to directory

Y/N sat on the floor by the foot of her bed, as Jack brushed her hair. A daily ritual for them, as it had been since they’d gotten back from apocalypse world. It had started as Jack’s way of being close to her before he died, not that she knew. He lied and said it looked like it’d be easier to have someone else brush it. Which was partly true, it was always getting tangled. But even after he came back to life, they’d sit down together before bed and he’d brush out the knots.

Jack stared intensely at her hair, watching it flow through the brush. 

“Y’know, I think you got ‘em all,” Y/N said, turning her head slightly to look over her shoulder.

“Oh, sorry.” He dropped her hair and handed her the brush as she moved to her dresser.

“Penny for your thoughts?” She laughed, leaning against the dresser as she began to braid her hair.

Jack frowned.

“Why would I want a penny for my thoughts?”

“It’s a saying.” Y/N shook her head. “It means ‘what are you thinking about?’”

Jack fell silent and looked down at his hands. Her hair was soft, and it smelt like her shampoo. It used to give him butterflies. Being around her, used to give him butterflies. But ever since he beat Michael, he felt nothing. When she laughed at his new saying “What would the WInchesters do?”, there was no contagious laughter. He’d made himself laugh because he felt like he should, not because he wanted to.

He knew what was wrong. He knew he didn’t have a soul, and a part of him was sure she knew. Maybe that was why she hadn’t found the gap between their laughter strange and questioned him. Maybe that was why she insisted he spend more time with her, to keep him away from the WInchesters. To keep them safe.

They always came first because they had saved her. They had taken her in and had become her brothers. It made him jealous… once. Now he tried to pretend he felt that jealousy, tried to act like nothing had changed in him. He pulled her closer when she started drifting towards the brothers, sat by her as close as possible at meals, and offered to go on supply runs with her.

---

“They're going to figure it out,” Y/N hummed as she folded her laundry.

Cas stood beside her, loading in his and Jack’s clothes.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, aside from his sudden possessivness, they aren’t as stupid as you seem to think. And Jack isn’t as careful as he thinks he is. He’s going to make a mistake. Come across something that he didn’t come across with a soul, and he won’t know how to act. Trying to fake having a soul is a lot harder than you think.”

“And you know, how?”

“You remember how Sam was. The only reason Dean didn’t pick it up sooner was because one, Sam had decades of experience being a human, and two, Dean chalked it up to trauma from the cage. Jack doesn’t have any of that.”

Cas closed the washer and sighed.

“I’ll handle this. Just-”

“Don’t tell the Winchesters. I know. But I should remind you, if he tries to hurt them…”

“I know.”

---

“It feels… strange.”

Y/N looked up from her braid and tilted her head.

“What does?”

He paused for a second, trying to find the exact words he wanted to say. But everything seemed to fall short. There was no way to explain the emptiness he felt, but he had to say something.

“I-I feel like I should hate not loving you. No. I know I should hate not loving you. That you don’t go from loving someone as much as I loved you, to feeling nothing for them in a matter of seconds. But- I don’t feel anything. There’s no remorse, no sorrow, and definitely no love. And it’s not just towards you, I don’t feel anything. At all. I know how you all feel about me, and I know the right thing to do is reciprocate that. And I did. But now…” He looked up at her as he trailed off.

She was watching him, her eyes were sad. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and spoke.

“I know, about the not being able to feel part, that’s what happens when you don’t have a soul.” She opened her eyes again, and they were teary.

Jack watched as she wiped away a few tears and sniffled. He’d never really seen her cry.

Jack stood up and moved to stand in front of her. Carefully he reached out to hold her, putting one hand over the hand on the dresser and the other cupped her face. She was looking up at him with confusion in her eyes.

“Stop me?” He asked, leaning forward.

Y/N let out a soft, sad laugh, as she tilted her head forward so their foreheads knocked together.

Jack opened his eyes, and dropped his hand from her cheek to the dresser. 

“I love you,” she whispered. “But you don’t love me, not now at least. So when you get your soul back, because we’ll find a way, you can kiss me. Alright?”

“Alright.”

[ghostboybrainrot]

Out of Touch Part 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, AO3

Edit: I'm starting the process of transferring these to AO3. Click the link above to subscribe and get updates more reliably! (But don't worry I'll keep posting on Tumblr, too.)

____________________________

Martha saw the shadowy figure falling from the sky. Its form stuttered as it fell. Suddenly, with a flash of light it changed. It was more solid now but it was still falling too fast for her to be able to see clearly.

It hit the ground with a soft thud. And she realized what she was looking at.

He couldn't have been older than 16. He was skinny. Too skinny. His black hair was messy. He wore a ratty dark blue hoodie and jeans. His shoes were held together with duct tape.

Her core lurched at the sight of him. He looked so fragile. For a moment she worried he'd lost consciousness. Had he hit his head? A weak groan escaped his mouth, pulling her from her thoughts. It was raspy and dry. Not a noise she expected from someone so young.

At least he was awake. That ruled out anything too serious.

He was trying to stand but was struggling. He'd injured his leg. She saw him wince with pain.

When he finally pulled himself up, he needed to hold the wall for balance. She expected him to start walking toward the exit of the alley but instead he made his way deeper, toward a dumpster.

He looked back scanning the alley. His eyes swept over her hiding spot but didn't seem to register her presence.

Satisfied that he wasn't being followed he crawled behind the dumpster, and out of sight.

Slowly, she closed the distance between herself and the dumpster. She stayed in the shadows but angled herself so she could get a glimpse of him.

He'd made a makeshift blanket with some garbage that had been lying next to it. His eyes were closed. She could see his chest rising and falling slowly. She wasn't sure if he'd fallen asleep that fast, but judging by how exhausted he had looked she wouldn't be surprised.

Her core tightened in worry. This boy shouldn't be left alone. Especially not here. Not in this alley. It wasn't safe. She glanced around, nervously. No one else had seen the boy yet, but she didn't want to risk it. He was tucked away but anyone who spared more than a passing glance in his direction, could spot him easily.

It was late autumn and the air was cold. It was likely to get colder before morning. People froze to death in nicer weather than this. She had to do something. He needed help.

Maybe she could find him a blanket or a coat?

She didn't like the idea of leaving him alone. She worried someone would find him if she took too long. She would just have to be quick.

She gave the sleeping boy one more glance before she floated off.

There was a general store near here right? At least there used to be. She headed in the direction she thought it had been. She didn't couldn't find the shop but she kept going anyway. She had to come across something eventually.

She couldn't remember the last tile she'd been down this way. Had it always been this run down?

It was late which explained the lack of people but the buildings were falling apart. It looked like no one had lived here in a long time.

She had to travel several blocks before she found anything that looked like it was still in business. The small gas station stood bright against the darkness. There were no cars at the pumps and the small shop attached to it looked closed. But they might have some emergency supplies.

She floated through the locked double doors. She scanned the shelves. There were a variety of items a person would need on the road. Motor oil, washer fluid, ice scrapers. There were also plenty of snacks and cooler on the back wall was full of drinks of varying colors and sizes.

She found what she was looking for at the end of an aisle. An emergency blanket. She knew people kept these in their trunks in case they got stranded in the cold. It didn't look comfortable. But hopefully the material was warm enough.

She reached for it but her hands passed through. It had been a long time since she'd tried to interact with the living world. She'd been able to move small things but never something like this. And she'd never carried anything so far.

She kicked herself. What had she been thinking? She couldn't help that poor boy. He needed someone who could be there. Who could hold him. Comfort him. Talk to him. Someone alive.

How could she hope to help like this?

She thought back to the shadow that had flown overhead. The flash of light and the fall. Maybe the boy wasn't alive either. At least not in the way most were.

She shook her head to clear it. She could worry about that later. She could do this. She just needed to focus.

She closed her eyes as she concentrated. She tried to imagine what it would feel like if she could reach out and touch it. She reached forward and her hand met the fabric. She ran her hand along it. The material was as scratchy as she imagined, but she could feel it. Really feel it. She smiled as she tried to scoop it up.

It took some time but she was able to lift the blanket off the shelf. She had dropped it a couple times but each time she picked it up again it had gotten easier.

Encouraged by her success, she looked around to what else she could grab. She settled on a bottle of water, and a prepackaged pastry. She had to take extra time to balance them on top of the blanket. She managed to roll the food and drink into the blanket, to keep them from falling as she flew back.

Phasing through the doors with the items proved challenging as well but she had started to get the hang of it.

Finally, she exited the gas station arms loaded with her spoils.

When she arrived back the boy was still where she left him. Carefully, she set down what she was carrying. He was still breathing. Slow and steady. If she wasn't sure before she knew he was sleeping now.

She considered the best way to get the blanket around him. She decided to move the cardboard and plastic. She spread the blanket out over him attempting to tuck it underneath him to help keep in the warmth.

She tried to replace the plastic wrap and boxes to provide him with cover.

Suddenly, his eyes shot open. He focused his icy glue gaze on her and she gasped.

________________________

Notes:

Thank you for reading! It's a little on the short side. I have another part after this almost finished but it wasn't quite ready so I split it in two and posted the first half! I do plan on posting to AO3 in the near future as well. (GhostBoyBrainRot on AO3 as well if you wanna subscribe.)

To everyone who guessed Jason. Don't worry Danny is going to be running into the batfam soon! >:)

But until then enjoy Martha! She's a little lost but she's got the spirit xD Hehe

Housekeeping note: Anyone who requested a tag. Check the list. If you see your at below and its spelled correctly, something is preventing me from tagging you. It might be because tumblr thinks your a bot or there may be something you need to change in your privacy settings.

If it isn't spelled correctly please DM me with the correct tag and what work its for. I have more than one going at the moment.

If I missed you entirely just leave a reply on this post and I'll try to add you next time.

Hope this helps! And thanks for reading!

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