#and to come to me telling me Ive got to make it normal because it helps YOU cope is insanely disrespectful

[ratatatastic]

Vanha Kauppahalli date: en full, a 2 minute 50 second masterpiece...

Primetime Panthers | 11.6.24 (x)

[gemharvest]

Need to get on top of whatever dumb fucking inferiority complex I got going on I'm tired of looking at everything about myself and going "Wow I am really sub-par." I know it's 2am but this isn't the midnight thoughts talking this is a fucking persistent curse throughout my day.

[cherry-shipping]

this is like the most niche thing ive ever imagined with an f/o but i like thinking that papyrus could call my bluffs really easily when no one else can. specifically UMM self care and health bluffs? i dont really lie about it. i just intentionally leave stuff out so people dont worry? like, if someone asks "have you eaten today?" ill be like "oh yea i ate before i came here! ^_^" but then i tactfully leave out the part where the only thing i ate was, like, a piece of candy i found on my floor or something and prior to that i hadnt eaten for a week, and things of that nature. and people never ever realize when im bluffing which is convenient for me but obviously Bad in general, but. i like imagining that paps of all people can just sort of innately Tell when im hiding something or skewing the truth just a little bit

[trymyownsauce]

how many more people just do it cause they think its hot, how many more people are NOT aligned with our politics/understanding of the patriarchy, what changes with it being more normal, what do we gain. Like we challenge things within ourselves that arent being acted on because even one less person whos totally fine [thinking x person is y way -- believing domestic violence is fine in small amounts -- leaping to anger and violence] is a net positive...what the fuck is it all for!!!!

[inmirova]

"it's easier to leave an abusive situation than it is to stop an abuser" :^( but it's not easy :^(

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

[tellafairy]

thoughts on shifting + manifesting with ease. (as someone who's shifted many times, alongside manifesting)

coming back to this side of tumblr after spending years away from it has made me realized how many of you are truly the problem, it might sound kinda harsh but really. so many of you ask the same questions over and over again.. "but HOW do i do it?" "how do i shift" "how do i manifest" JUST DO IT. stop looking for signs, stop looking for methods or "cheat codes". just do it man.

your mind is so powerful and it actually kinda irritates me how many of you doubt it, just because it "seems to easy". you don't understand how you've been manipulated by society to not see your power. how have you been on loa social media, shifting social media, for soooo long — yet still don't see it?? let me tell you..

the moment i got off social media, the moment i took time to erase everything in my head and stop overthinking everything, was the moment everything came to me. i already had it, i just needed to stop telling myself i didn't.

it took me barely any time to get used to convincing myself i had everything i wanted, i shifted to my desired realities, and everything worked out in my favour. AFFIRMING IS ALL YOU NEED. I AM YELLING AT YOU. JUST AFFIRM.

really, please, affirm. the routine is so simple.

1. any bad thought is instantly turned positive.

ex: "i really want her waist"

to

"am i stupid ... i have her waist.. tbh mine even looks a little better.. am i crazy?? like actually? this must be a glitch or something cause my waist is practically identical to hers.. i literally love my waist"

exaggerate, say what you need to say to erase the negativity.

2. it's yours, so act like it..

ex: talk about ur DR normally. it's your reality, not a fantasy land you made up in a dream. ITS REAL. it's a reality. for example, i'd watch videos of my s/o in this reality, and speak about our lives in my dr. "i can't wait to see __ tonight... god i love __, it's so nice hanging out with them everyday.. wow they look so pretty in this video — i'm so lucky their mine". it's natural, they're yours aren't they? exactly, so act like it.. this is used the exact same way when manifesting..

you see someone with something you want? thinking of something you wanna do? something you wanna be? ... it's urs... so can you act like it?? like whyre u feeling sad someone else got a job promotion 😹😹 you literally got a better one ...

3. that's literally it

you don't need a fancy method (although it can give u some peace of mind.. let's be real, a lot of methods set y'all back and make you overwhelmed, blocking ur beliefs and making everything seem harder). you literally just need to live. tell yourself it's done, over and over again. nothing matters. it's done, it's yours, you have it, you're happy and fulfilled. other peoples sucess should really mean nothing to you negatively. it shouldn't make you stressed, shouldn't make you feel behind.. why would it when you have everything, you can do everything, go anywhere, and you can be anything.

it'll seem like manifesting blogs and shifting blogs just repeat the same things.. which is true, they do, because i'm telling you there's nothing more to it than what you've already read. it is that easy. all it takes is your mind. decide, and tell yourself.

as i said before, it took me barely anytime to switch my mindset once i actually started focusing on myself, my journey and not every body else's results. repeating stuff to yourself WORKS. repeating is literally ALL i did. choose what i want, told myself it's mine in any way i could describe it. and there, it's mine. ive shifted to many different realities, along side gaining a better life in this one after years of convincing myself there was nothing for me. if i can break out of the cycle, trust me you can too. i cannot describe how desperate i was at the beginning, how long i took in false info and wasted time on methods all while doubting every single thing.

so why don't you believe it? you'll sit there and tell yourself over and over again that you're ugly, or broke, or friendless... but you won't tell urself that you've shifted? that you have your dream body...? girl okay i guess....

once you realize nothing besides your mind truly matters, is when you'll be free with yourself. circumstances don't matter, past feelings don't matter, doubts don't matter, your mind is all you need.

yes this is just loa explained longer, that's the point of the post because some of u still can't get it in ur heads

[steveseddie]

boy wonder

steddie | rating: t | wc: 999 | cw: none | tags: pre-relationship, steve and eddie recovering at the hospital together, eddie just had surgery, he’s a little high, fluff

for @steddie-spooktober day fourteen, prompt “bats”

read on ao3

“Do you think I’ll turn into Batman?”

Steve looks up from the magazine he’s been skimming through to find Eddie peering at him from his hospital bed. 

The sight of him covered in bandages and hooked to IVs and monitors still sends a shiver down Steve’s spine. But as the days go by and Eddie keeps getting better— looking better, less and less like he’s on the brink of death— it gets easier for Steve to handle it.

He’s surprised that Eddie woke up so soon after his surgery. The doctor said it’d be a while before the drugs wore off so Steve prepared himself to sit here for hours waiting for Eddie to wake up, just like he did after his first and then his second surgery. 

But it’s been less than two hours since they rolled him back into his room and Eddie is already up, eyes half-lidded and words slightly slurred and nonsensical, but awake and alert— and waiting for Steve to reply.

“Um, come again?”

“Do you think I’ll turn into Batman?” Eddie repeats, head lolling to the side to blink at Steve. “You know, ’cause I got bit by bats.”

Normally, Steve wouldn’t argue about superheroes with a nerd like Eddie, but he’s read a few Batman comics in his life and even he knows that’s not right. 

“I’m pretty sure Batman didn’t get bit by bats, Eddie,” he says with an amused chuckle. 

“No, but Spiderman got bit by a spider,” Eddie says, wagging his finger— the one with the pulse oximeter— at Steve like what he’s saying makes perfect sense. 

To him— pumped full of some pretty hardcore drugs— it probably does.  

“Okay,” Steve says, deciding to humor him. He shifts on the chair, leaning forward so that his back isn’t pressed against anything. They cleaned his wounds and changed his bandages before he came to Eddie’s room and by now the numbing cream has started to wear off and it stings. “Well, I also got bit by bats. Does that mean I’ll become Batman too?”

Eddie’s eyebrows knit together in a cute little frown. “There can only be one Batman.”

“And why does it have to be you?”

Eddie thinks it over for a second before propping himself up in his elbows, eyes wide. “I dress in black! And I have bat tattoos!” 

“Well, I have rich parents,” Steve counters with. It’s the one thing he knows he shares with the character. 

“Well, my parents are dead!” Eddie says. It’s probably the drugs’ fault that he sounds so enthusiastic about it. “I win!”

“Fine,” Steve says, rolling his eyes half-heartedly, “I guess you can be Batman.”

Eddie grins, satisfied, flopping back against the bed, his hair fanning out against the pillow. “You can be Robin,” he tells Steve, giving him a lopsided smile. 

“Sure, Eds.”

Eddie perks up and props himself on his elbows again. “Hey, we should dress up as them for Halloween!”

Steve can’t help but make a face. “No way, man.”

“Oh, right,” Eddie says, his smile falling, “we won’t be friends anymore by then.”

Wait— what?

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, frowning. That makes even less sense than his drug-induced Batman musings. 

“Well, you only hang out with me ’cause we’re both stuck in this hospital,” Eddie says matter-of-factly, “but once we’re out of here, you’ll have no reason to put up with me.”

Steve starts shaking his head even before he’s done talking. He knows Eddie is only saying this out loud because of the drugs but it’s something he must’ve thought about it before. It makes Steve sad to think he’s been feeling this way for the last couple of weeks and Steve didn’t know. 

“Eddie, I don’t ‘put up with you’, okay? We’re friends, I like your company. You’re like, cool and really funny,” Steve says as earnestly as he can. “And we saved the world together! That means you’re stuck with me, man.”

Eddie’s eyes grow wider as Steve talks. He blinks slowly at him as he processes the words before his lips stretch into a big grin. 

“Does that mean we can dress up together?”

Steve’s lips scrunch to the side. “Yeah, no, I’m not wearing a nerdy costume, especially one where I have to wear tights,” he says in a bitchy tone. 

“But you’d look so good in them,” Eddie insists and then leers at Steve, licking his lips before he adds in a low voice— “big boy.”

Steve’s eyes go wide, and just like the first time Eddie called him that, he blushes and forgets how to speak from how flustered he feels.

He’s lucky he’s not the one hooked to a heart monitor right now or the damn thing would’ve started beeping like crazy in time with his stuttering heartbeat. 

He’s saved from having to say anything in response to that by a doctor coming into the room at that moment to check on Eddie, distracting him and breaking the weird tension. It’s a good thing she doesn’t pay any attention to Steve or she might ask why his face is bright red. 

“Hey, Doc,” Eddie says as she checks his vitals. The doctor hums in acknowledgment. “I’m Batman.” 

“Sure you are, Mr. Munson,” she says in a bored tone but Eddie doesn’t seem to care that she acts so dismissively. 

His head lolls to the side and he gives Steve a dimpled grin. “And that’s my Boy Wonder,” he says, eyes warm and molten as they stare at him.

Steve doesn’t know why that makes his heart skip a beat or why it makes his lungs feel like they can’t draw any air in.

Or why he wants Eddie to look at him like that again so desperately that he’s genuinely considering wearing those tights on Halloween after all.

Maybe he should ask the doctor for a check-up after she’s done with Eddie, just to be safe. He thinks he might be coming down with something.

[serejae]

I STILL WANNA BE YOUR FAVORITE BOY | C.HS

pairing ; vernon x reader

WHAT ! ; after rejecting his bestfriend vernon is left to ponder in what he lost, now its up to him whether to make things right

a/n ; i know ive been writing alot for vernon buttttttttt whos gonna fight me..😒

VERNON swore he didnt care, if anyone asked about you he shrugged it off. the news of you confessing to vernon wasn’t shocking to anyone, the way you two looked at eachother explained everything but the part that shocked them was when he said he rejected you.

“so what? you just rejected them?” dokyeom asked sitting in front of vernon on the floor as he laid on the couch. not bothering to look up from his phone, vernon shrugged

“yeah

i dont get the big deal everyones making out of it”

“the big deal is that we all know you like them and we’re trying to protect you from regretting anything” dokyeom sighed. all he got back ad a response was a light chuckle from guy sitting on the couch. “i’ll be fine, you guys dont need to be so worried about the decisions i make”

“what if you regret it?”

he looked away from his phone for a second and thought before shaking his head.

“nah”

nah

nah

nah

now vernon was sitting at his dining table with his now cold mac n cheese infront of him. the word “nah” was constantly repeating in his hand like a broken record trying to overpower dokyeom words of regret, because maybe he was right

and vernon hated to admit it

that he had fell for his bestfriend

and especially when he rejected them first and was now feeling something about them going on a date with another person

it was weird, normally you’d stay for dinner and afterwards you both would cuddle onnthe couch while watching a movie (always of your choice) to digest, then go cuddle in bed and go to sleep. (with the many years of knowing eachother and getting comfortable with one another) its no surprise you fell for him, and he fell for you too

so it was like something, or someone…was missing tonight

the table was too quiet, too much room, he didnt like it, at all.

but vernon was too selfless for his own good to stop you now. you’re already hurt by him, so why would you want someone like him to come back to your life again?

closing his eyes, he rubs his temples as he thinkings about what happened that day. he didnt think you deserved someone like him the day you confessed to him

-

“just tell me who you like” vernon stretched out his words as he leaned towards you trying to bother you

shaking your head as you laughed, you tried to push him off but he was too persistent in bothering you

“cmon, ill help you” he said trying to convince you to at least give him a hint

“would you?”

vernon nodded his head quickly hoping your answer would be him, but why when it wss did he reject you?

“i like you”

he paused feeling his heart quicken, and out of adrenaline

“im sorry, i dont like you”

-

in his defense, the idea is much scarier than the reality. the moment he said yes, you would be stuck with him and his problems. so not wanting to hurt you he rejected you

so now why were you and him hurting?

the cold mac n cheese was now stored in the fridge as he lost his appetite thinking of you doing the same stuff you did with him to other people, let alone go on a date.

he wish he could change something about this.

so thats when it clicked

he can

grabbing a sweater and putting on his shoes he ran to his car trying to get their as soon as possible

-

well, the reality is much scarier than the idea because hes been standing outside your door for 10 minutes walking in circles while simultaneously looking around to see if any cars were pulling up to your drive way indicating your date

even then, if they did show up what was he gonna do?

beat them up?

well, maybe not.

but before they arrived and swooned your heart away, vernon hoped deep down that your heart still belonged to him.

as selfish as it sounded, maybe vernon needed to be selfish to get this one thing he wants

to be your favorite boy

not some random person.

so before his time was up he knocked on your door

and within seconds you opened it, looking as shocked as he did.

and his first words to you? (rather sighed knowing dokyeom was right)

“i still wanna be your favorite boy”

[yandere-daydreams]

well since you brought up gojo…

geto (who has been with a girl before) teaching gojo (pussy virgin who is eager to pop his cherry) how to fuck a woman using y/n (the cute little girl they roofied at the bar and brought home to be their demonstration doll)

just... UGHHHH. suguru showing satoru how to eat. telling him to watch close while he does it. pay attention to how he's using his tongue as he makes you cum. they sit there for hours as suguru lovingly instructs his boyfriend on how to tongue fuck you, running his fingers through his hair and reminding him that he needs to be gentle because girls are more delicate than boys. cooing all sorts of sweet nothings to his good boy as he makes you cum for the fifth agonizing time. (practice makes perfect~ suguru says)

and satorus so eager. too eager. he has a hard time containing his excitement on a normal day, but he’s going to fuck a girl for the first time tonight so he’s just that extra bit more animalistic (he is humping the bed like a bitch and snarfing up your cunt like a dog that hasn’t eaten in a year. you never know if his teeth or tongue are going to be grazing your clit at any given moment. you can no longer tell if it feels good or bad.)

by the end you’re so overstimulated you feel you might pass out, the pleasure in your tummy boiling so violently you feel nauseous. so when suguru coos out to satoru you’ve been so patient baby. such a good boy. look at how nice you made her feel~ i think she should return the favor, hm? something inside you dies

and then suguru walks satoru through fucking you step by step, instructing him on when to go faster and slower (although not even suguru can keep him from being too rough at this point), showing him how to rub your clit so you feel nice while you “make love” in that stupid saccharine voice.

when you ask why they won’t let you go the next morning, suguru tells you rather solemnly that you deflowered satoru so you can’t just leave him. you basically owe it to him to stay

i hate them (im foaming at the mouth for them. sorry for the second long ask ive been thinking about this for weeks)

okay so i read meant to respond to this normally but accidently entered into a fugue state and absolutely went hog wild all over a word document. anyway come back in exactly five hours and fifteen minutes. the lose virgin of it all got to me i suppose.

[neil-gaiman]

hey mr gaiman. i saw that this post got revisited and wanted to address it.

i submitted this ask over a year ago on my old account and it was one of the stupidest things i ever did. it was my first tumblr account. id only been really online for a few weeks. i was 13. i was just coming back to school after a global pandemic.

ive been a fan of good omens for years and a fan of yours for longer. i was brought up reading odd and the frost giants and fortunately the milk, and as i got older i fell in love with your norse mythology book, good omens, snow glass apples, the sleeper and the spindle, and more.

i was excited to see one of my favorite authors on tumblr and tried to come up with the most bold and interesting ask i could think of.

i was rude and misinformed and it was a stupid choice of me to send it in with no thought.

but i got feedback. some in the form of kind suggestions. quite a few in the form of death threats and people telling me to kill myself.

while those specific messages were rude and hateful, the point got across. i educated myself to the best of my abilities, and eventually came back online.

not only did i misuse the term queerbaiting but i also implied that you were not an amazing supporter of the queer community. that’s absolutely incorrect. you’ve done so much for us with activism, representation, and overall kindness.

i wanted to address this ask that got so much attention because despite moving accounts i still feel guilt and shame every time i see it, or even when i interact with any of your posts at all. i need to actually address it.

also, i wanted a proper apology to be made. by no means am i now a saint. but im trying to be more thoughtful about thinking before i speak.

whether or not you decide to make a public response to this, i think ill find some peace knowing you’ve received this. ive needed closure on this for a long time.

im overjoyed and thrilled that season two is so close. thank you for tolerating the dumb questions of pretentious kids and thank you for helping to create a world where we can grow to be better than we were.

First of all, and most importantly, I'm really sorry that people were mean to you. That's awful. And nobody should ever have to deal with death threats or online threats and attacks, let alone a thirteen year old.

And secondly, you do not owe me an apology. I figure I have a Tumblr account, people ask things. Mostly they'll get nice replies, occasionally (normally when I'm being asked the same thing over and over) the replies will be terser. There has to be a certain amount of rough and tumble though, and occasionally I'll grab an ask that represents all of the asks I've had on that subject, and try and reply to all of them. That's what happened to you. I was getting tired of being accused of Queerbaiting for the occasional answer about a Season that was not yet released and about which nobody knew anything. And I needed to tell everyone who was doing this that they had to stop now. You had the misfortune to be the representative of all of the other people.

If you are not making mistakes you are not human and you are not learning anything.

(I wish there was tone of voice on the internet.)

And I think you are growing and learning and will make a fantastic adult.

I really hope you enjoy Season 2 when it drops.

[atlabeth]

time’s blur - ialwbty au

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader but this primarily features percy jackson & sister!reader

summary: somehow, someway, you come back.

a/n: wow it has been a while hasn't it!! 148 days to be exact!! im always thinking about these two in the corner of my mind and ive been wanting to write this au since i got an ask about it, originally i was going to do it all as a big long one shot but i just want to get something out lol. and this will give me more freedom to do wte i want with this au instead of just having one big one shot and leaving it. anyways enjoy there is actually some fluff for once but still some emotional damage and there is more to come!! also reader is 19 and percy is 15

wc: 3.5k

warning(s): hurricane dies but she has come back!! told through percy's pov. angst, hurt/comfort, signature percy jackson guilt, but some fluffy sibling moments<3

Percy doesn’t end up in the infirmary at 2:29 in the morning out of instinct, foresight, or any kind of divine ‘chosen one’ intervention. 

He ends up in the infirmary at 2:29 in the morning because some Apollo kid was hooking up with an Ares kid on the beach, and they found you. 

They found you, not Percy. He didn’t even have a clue until he woke up to Chiron in his cabin.

Percy had had his fair share of rude awakenings over the years, usually because of horrific demigod prophetic dreams, but the expression on Chiron’s face immediately alerted Percy that something was wrong, even through his groggy haze. 

“Chiron?” he rasps, and he sits up as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He has to make sure he’s not still dreaming. 

“I’m sorry to wake you, Percy,” he says. “But I need you to come with me.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Is everyone okay? Is camp okay? Is there an invasion?” 

“Nothing so ghastly,” Chiron says. Though his tone is a bit lighter, it still doesn’t ease Percy’s concerns. “But it does concern you.” 

“Great,” Percy mumbles, and he pulls himself out of bed. Normally he would have the foresight to change, but a part of him is still worried that Christmas has come early and Kronos has already invaded the city. 

So he follows Chiron—with all the sneaking around he’s done since getting to camp, it’s strange to be out this late and not have to worry about being eaten alive—clad in flannel pajama pants, a Yankee’s tee, and Converse he didn’t get the chance to fully lace up. 

“You’d tell me if something was wrong,” Percy says, glancing up at him. “Right?” 

“Of course,” he nods. “I wouldn’t classify this as something going wrong. Just… rather shocking.” 

“Great,” he repeats. “Are you going to tell me?” 

Chiron is silent for a moment, and Percy frowns. “Now I’m really worried.” 

“I suppose it’s best to rip the bandage off,” Chiron says. He stops right outside the Big House and lets out a sigh. “An hour ago, a girl was found on the beach. She looked as if she’d been washed ashore.” 

Percy’s frown deepens. “What? Gods— is she okay?” 

“Yes,” Chiron says. “I checked her over for injuries, but she only had some minor bruises. No water in her lungs, somehow.” 

“That’s crazy,” he says. “How could someone even wash up here? Even with demigods— don’t we have protections against that?” 

“All of this makes me believe there was some… divine intervention,” Chiron says slowly. “Especially with who she is.” 

Percy crosses his arms. “You’re making this sound like a huge deal. Who is she?”

“Percy,” Chiron says, soft but firm, “it’s your sister. Somehow, she’s come back to life.” 

And for a second, all he can do is stare. 

“What?” 

“I could never forget her face,” he says. “Or the presence of a child of Poseidon.” 

Percy shakes his head. “No, Chiron— if this is a joke, it’s not funny.” He huffs a mirthless laugh and looks down at his hands. “And if this is a shitty dream, then it’s really shitty.” 

“Perseus, this is real,” he states. 

He’s still shaking his head. “How can it be real? She’s dead— she’s been dead for years.”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Mr. D has already gone back to Olympus to figure it out. But if I had to guess, your father decided to meddle.”

He wants to call it a lie. Honestly, he wants to punch Chiron for getting his hopes up about something like this. But deep down, Percy knows he’s telling the truth. 

“Can I see her?” he asks. “Is— is she okay? Does she know who she is?”

“In time,” Chiron says. “I cannot be sure, but it doesn’t look like she remembers anything from her life.” 

Percy shakes his head again. It doesn’t feel real. He’s imagined what it would feel like to meet you since the moment Luke told him about you, but he knew it could never happen. 

But now, all that stands between Percy and his sister is a few doors. 

“I want to see her,” he says.

“Of course,” Chiron nods. “I just need to make sure it won’t mess with her further. This isn’t like Thalia coming back with the fleece—though I have suspicions, I can’t be sure how this happened. It could be a very delicate matter.” 

“As long as it doesn’t hurt her more.” 

Chiron nods again and he opens the door to the Big House. He follows him up to his office door, then stops when Chiron gestures at the couch. 

“I just need to discuss a few more things with her.” 

Percy nods wordlessly and sits down, then Chiron disappears into his office. 

A million things are running through Percy’s mind, namely guilt. 

Shouldn’t he have been the one to find you? 

Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but it’s you. 

You’re his sister. He’s always had a connection to you, even when you were gone—gods, the night after he found out you existed you appeared in his dreams. Percy’s spent almost every moment since he found out about you wishing you were still here, that he could meet you, and when it finally does happen—somehow, because he still doesn’t understand what the fuck went on for this to happen—he’s not even the one to find you? He’s just asleep like every other night?

He huffs a sigh as he hunches over, his forearms on his knees. His leg bounces up and down at a rapid pace, moving his entire body with it, but this is one time he can’t lay his ADHD to rest. He’s more surprised he isn’t up pacing the entire room for the hundredth time. 

If Percy feels like this, he can’t even imagine how you must feel. To come back for seemingly no reason with no memories, after four years in Elysium. 

Luke said you’d been killed by a monster. You were buried like any other person. 

You were gone.

But you just… came back.  

He lets out another harried sigh and falls back against the couch. He’s exhausted, but there’s no chance of him being able to go back to sleep. Not with you around. 

Suddenly, the door opens, and Percy instantly darts up from his seat. You walk out with Chiron and it’s almost surreal.

You look like all the pictures, all his dreams, just older—more mature. He wants to cry and scream and hug you all at once. 

Your eyes widen slightly, and you glance at Chiron for a moment before you focus back on Percy.

“Uh— sorry,” he says, wincing a bit. He doesn’t know how to act around you, not when he knows you but you don’t know him. “I waited for you. I thought it would be good to have someone on the other side.” 

“That’s really nice,” you murmur. “I… I see why. Word on the street is that you’re my brother.” 

Percy nods way too many times. “Yeah. Uh— yeah. We’re both children of—” 

He pauses, his gaze moving past you to Chiron. He has to have explained all this to you, right? 

“Poseidon,” you finish, and you let out a slightly shaky laugh. “Chiron laid out all the basics.” 

“This has all got to be really confusing,” he says. “I remember how lost I was when I first got to camp, and I didn’t even…” 

“Die?” you ask wryly. He nods again. He really can’t finish any sentence around you—he’s so worried of saying the wrong thing and accidentally hurting you. Percy doesn’t know how any of this works.

“It’s strange,” you admit. “I… I lived this whole life before this, and I don’t even remember any of it.”

Percy’s heart clenches painfully. He doesn’t know how he’s going to explain everything to you when you start remembering. 

When you start remembering Luke. 

“Really?” he asks. “There’s nothing?”

You shake your head. “I have my name, but that’s all. And…”

Percy frowns. “What?”

You pause for a moment before you shake your head again. “Nothing. This is just…”

“Weird?” 

You nod with a slight laugh. “Yeah. To say the least.”

“If it makes you feel better, you’re not the first person to come back to life,” Percy says. “Uh, a girl named Thalia used to be a tree before she was turned back into a human.”

You frown. “Wow.”

“We can get to all of that some other day,” Chiron thankfully interrupts. “Percy, will you take her back to your cabin?”

“You’re sure we won’t get eaten by the harpies?” Percy asks. “Aello is out for my blood.”

“I promise,” Chiron says. He glances at you, your frown noticeably deeper, and he looks back at Percy. “Perhaps we should, ah, hold off on this sort of discussion. Until tomorrow, at least.”

“Of course,” Percy says. “Sorry. You must be exhausted.” 

“A little,” you admit. “Apparently coming back to life takes it out of you.” 

“Come back here first thing in the morning,” Chiron says. “We have… quite a bit to talk about.” 

“That’s an understatement,” you murmur. 

Percy smiles a bit, and he gestures with his head for you to follow him. You do, and Chiron goes back into his office. He nabs a bag of ambrosia squares from an empty bedside as the two of you go through the infirmary just to be safe, and when he glances back at you he sees you frowning. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Does anything hurt?” 

“You’re a Yankees fan?” you say instead. 

Percy blinks, then he realizes you’re looking at his shirt. “Uh— yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m from New York, and my mom loves them, so…” he tugs at his shirt. “I know you like the Red Sox. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “We can’t all be perfect.” 

Percy can’t help but smile. You died and came back to life, and you remember nothing but your name and your love for the Boston Red Sox. 

“That means you keep up with baseball, right?” 

“When I can,” he says. “We don’t really have technology out here.” 

“Have the Red Sox won a world series since I’ve been gone?” 

“They won last year, actually.”

Your eyes widen and you instantly grin. “Really?”

He nods. “They beat the Cardinals.”

“That— that’s huge!” you exclaim. “Oh my god, they broke the curse and I didn’t get to see it? This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”

“You know you died, right?”

“And look how well that worked out for me.” You shake your head. “I need to go to the library or something and find some footage.”

“As much as I would love to do that,” Percy says, “we have a few other things we have to focus on.”

You huff and shake your head. “Fine. But as soon as we figure all this out, I’m figuring out some way to see those games.” 

Percy chuckles. “I don’t think anyone’ll deny you that.” 

“Good.” 

Silence settles over the two of you as you walk back to the Poseidon cabin, and Percy just feels awkward. 

He always thought about what he would say to you if he finally got to see you again, and now you’re alive somehow and right next to him and he has no idea what to do. 

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Percy finally decides on. “Chiron said you just washed up on shore.” 

“I feel surprisingly okay,” you say. “All I remember is waking up at the bottom of the lake. I thought I was going to drown, so I kicked my way up, and then got to shore.” You shake your head. “Somehow, I didn’t drown. My clothes weren’t even wet. I’ve got to be the luckiest person out there.” 

“You’re a child of Poseidon,” he says. “We can breathe underwater so we can’t drown, and our clothes don’t get wet unless we want them to.” 

“Like I said,” you incline your head, “luckiest person out there.” 

“I just don’t get why you’re back,” Percy says. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are. I just don’t understand how, or why— or why now.” 

You open your mouth to say something, but you’re not able to get any words out before a yawn interrupts it. 

“Maybe that’s a tomorrow problem,” you say. 

“I think you’re right,” Percy says. He opens the door to the camp store and you follow him inside, but you frown. 

“What is this?” 

“The camp store,” he says. “You don’t really have anything, so I wanted to get you some things.” 

You just stare as he starts taking things. “You’re just… stealing?” 

“Just a couple toiletries and some clothing,” he says. “They won’t miss it.” He stashes it all in a Camp Halfblood tote bag and holds it out to you, and though you’re a bit hesitant, you still take it. 

“Thanks,” you say. “We won’t get in trouble?” 

“I think everyone will cut you some slack for a while,” Percy says. “A guy did this for me my first day and it helps—makes you feel more at home.” 

You hum, and this time you open the door for Percy. “Nice guy.” 

Percy swallows the sudden lump in his throat, trying to ignore the chill that trickles down his spine as he realizes the implications of his words. 

“Yeah,” Percy mutters. “He was.” 

Eventually, the two of you get back to the Poseidon cabin. He opens the door for you and you slowly walk inside. 

Again, it’s strange that you’re here. It’s like if a piece of his history textbook suddenly came to life and started walking around—he’s heard so much about you, imagined what he thought would be an impossible meeting so many times, but now that it’s actually happening he doesn’t know what to do. 

And it hits even more as you walk over to a picture of yourself hanging on the wall, surrounded by a myriad of others. 

It’s one of many of you and Luke, him holding you close with an arm slung around your shoulder as you beam at the camera with the brightest smile imaginable. Before Luke got his scar, before you died, before he went off the deep end. 

“I put a couple of your pictures up,” Percy rushes to explain, his throat feeling scratchy, “and a few of your old things. As— as a way to remember you.”

“I love it,” you say, and the tension dissolves in his shoulders when he sees your smile. It really is so much brighter in person. “I— I can’t believe I don’t remember any of this.”

“We’ll figure out a way to get it back,” Percy says. “I promise.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say idly as you continue to take all the pictures in. He can’t imagine what it must feel like to see all these memories of a past life you have no recollection of. 

“I don’t,” he says. “We’re gonna figure it out.”

You’re silent for a while as you keep looking at them. Then you take one of the pictures off the wall, the one of you and Luke at a baseball game. 

“Luke,” you murmur, as if you don’t realize you’re saying it out loud. You blink, then you turn to Percy. “His name is Luke, isn’t it?”

He nods, almost in disbelief. You don’t remember a damn thing about your old life but you know Luke’s name.

How is Percy supposed to tell you what he did? 

You laugh softly as you trail your nail over the edge. “We must’ve been pretty close if I got him to go to a Red Sox game.” You look over at Percy. “Does he go here too?”

After a moment, Percy shakes his head. “He— uh, he used to.”

“Makes sense,” you murmur, and you put the picture back on the wall. “I got the easy way out. Everyone else had to deal with the fallout.”

Percy frowns. “You were killed by a monster. I don’t think anyone considers that the easy way out.” 

“It kinda was,” you say with a shrug. “I— I don’t remember much about it, but Chiron said I was in Elysium. There aren’t any monsters down there, and there certainly aren’t any responsibilities.”

“Well,” Percy sits down on his bed, “I’m glad you’re here. You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined meeting you.” 

You chuckle. “I didn’t know I was so popular.” 

“I’m serious,” he says. “Poseidon is one of the Big Three, and they made an oath not to have kids. I was the only Big Three kid in general when I got to camp—when I found out about you, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to have a sister to talk about all of this with.” 

Your eyes soften, and you lean against his bed frame. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry about?” 

“I— I don’t know,” you say with a slight laugh. “I just feel bad that I couldn’t be there for you.” 

“You’re already doing a pretty good job at being a big sister,” Percy says wryly. 

“Thanks,” you say. “You’re doing a pretty good job at being a younger brother.” 

Percy laughs and smiles, and you smile too. He’s beginning to understand what Luke always said, about your presence embodying warmth. He’s only been around you for a few minutes and he already feels better. 

“I’ve never had a brother before this,” you say. “So there might be a couple speed bumps.” 

“We’ll get through them together,” Percy says. “Besides, I… I kind of always considered you my sister. Ever since I found out about you, even though you were…” 

“Dead?” you guess, and he winces. You chuckle a bit. “It’s still weird for me, too. Can’t imagine what it must be like for all of you.” 

“Weird,” he says without really thinking. “Really weird. But I’m thankful that you’re back.” 

You smile. “So am I, Percy.” 

You let out another yawn, and you sit down on the bed across from him. “God, what time is it?” 

Percy glances at the clock in the corner. “3:34.” 

You whistle. “I really chose a great time to come back, huh?” 

He chuckles, and he kicks off his shoes as gets up to turn the lights off. “I think some sleep would do us both some good.” 

You nod and do the same. As you lay back, one hand behind your head, you continue to look around the cabin. 

“Are these your band posters?” 

He shakes his head as he sits back down. “They’re yours, actually, but you’ve got good taste. I love Pearl Jam.” 

“I used to have good taste, you mean,” you say wryly. 

“Hey,” he says. “I meant what I told you. We’re gonna get your memories back.” 

“How are you so sure?” 

“I’ve done a lot of impossible things,” Percy says. “And so have you, from what I’ve heard. It’s kind of the Poseidon kid way, honestly.” 

“You’ll have to teach me some things, then.” 

“And when you get your memory back, you’ll have to do the same,” he says. 

You smile and nod. “Deal.” 

Percy smiles too, and he lays down. “You really should try and get some sleep. Chiron wasn’t joking when he said we have a lot to talk about.” He huffs a slight laugh. “Whatever the reason is for you coming back, I guarantee there’s gonna be some people upstairs that are mad about it.” 

Your eyebrows rise. “Upstairs?” 

“Olympus,” he says. “The gods don’t really like things happening out of their control.” 

You hum, and for a moment there’s nothing but silence and the sound of both your breathing. It’s a little strange having someone else here other than Tyson, but he’s thankful for it. 

“What’s gonna happen to me?” you ask. There’s an edge of fear in your voice, and Percy frowns. 

“Nothing.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

“Nothing is going to happen,” he repeats. “I’m not going to let anything happen. The gods have already messed with your life enough—they don’t get to do it again.” 

Percy half-expects to hear the sound of thunder echoing across camp, but the silence continues. Maybe Zeus isn’t listening in on him for once, or maybe he just expects the disrespect at this point. 

“I really am the luckiest person,” you say. “I’ve got someone like you looking out for me.” 

“You were looking out for me when you were gone,” he says. “You might not remember, but I could feel it. So I’m just repaying the favor.” 

Again, silence. It’s temporarily interrupted by the sound of sheets shifting, then you speak. 

“I’m really glad I got to meet you, Percy,” you murmur. 

He can’t help but smile, and he tries to ignore the tears beginning to spring in his eyes. He has no idea why you’re back—no idea what this could mean. Maybe your dad did bring you back, maybe it’s a bizarre case like Thalia, maybe you play a part in something that they don’t even know about yet and it's nothing but bad news.

But for once in his life, Percy’s not going to question it. 

You’re alive and you’re here. 

For now, that’s all he needs. 

“Me too,” he whispers.

[spyder-junkie]

EARTH-42 MILES MORALES X READER PART 2

part three ??

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Honestly the death of his father traumatized Miles.

It taught him to hold on to the things he loves, things that make him happy, because nothing is forever.

And honestly he was looking for something to fill his father’s void, something to satisfy the itch being prowler couldn’t scratch.

So not even two days later, Miles shows up at you window.

He wanted to scope you out, see if you were something he’s like to spend his time on.

With any person hes ever thought of pursuing, the thought of having to tell them hes Prowler loomed over his shoulder.

But you already knew.

Hes dressed normally this time, and hes come at a reasonable hour.

You smile when you see him, opening the window immediately for him to crawl in.

“I aint’ catch you name.” is the first thing he says, dusting off his jeans.

“Y/n.” You reply, sitting down at your desk.

“What can I help you with, Miles?”

He pauses for a moment, almost forgetting what excuse he came up with.

“Check my wounds for me? You wrapped ‘em so well ian wanna unwrap em.” He says, face calm.

You look at him for a moment before shrugging.

“bien, siéntate.” You mumble, going to grab your first aid kit.

“You speak spanish?” Miles asks, sitting down on your bed and pulling his shirt from his body.

The big gash on his side is covered in bandages, blood stained.

“A little, I take a class at school.” You smile, bending down infront of him. He spreads his knees, letting you settle onto the ground infront of him.

He shuts his eyes tight as you unwrap the bandage.

“Thats a pretty chain.” You mumbled, using a cottonball to dab at the wound.

Miles’ hands come to to touch the chain hes wearing. It was one of the many things he half-hazardly bought with his work money.

“Where’d you get it? Ive been looking for something similar.” You ask.

“I honestly can’t remember.” He mumbles, from his tone you could only assume he was telling the truth.

“Thats okay, anyway Youre all good.” You say just finishing his bandages, standing up and putting your things away.

“Oh.” Miles mumbles, not realizing how little time that would take you.

“Anything else I can help you with, Prowler?” He shivers at the way the name rolls off your tongue.

“Guess not.” He says, standing up and walking towards the window. His hands are in his pockets.

He leaves, climbing back out your window and disappearing past the block.

After two days a package shows up at your door.

When you open it, you realize its a chain, identical to Miles’ and brand new.

You giggle a little while clasping it around your neck.

You dont see Miles again for two weeks.

“You know we can just schedule meet ups instead of you showing up to my window at night.” You say, watching as Miles in his normal clothes climbs out if the darkness and into your room.

He ignores your statement, taking his shoes and jacket off and sitting at your desk. He leans back, legs spread wide and eyes closed.

You shake you head, sitting down on your bed and facing him.

“Whats troubling you?” You ask.

“Nothing important.” He says quickly. He opens his eyes and looks at you.

“Youre wearing the chain.” He mumbles.

“Yeah.” You reach up and touch it. “It’s really nice, I thought you didn’t know where you got it from.”

Miles shrugs

“How much was it? I can pay you back-“

“Eres Bonita, you shouldnt have to pay for your own shit.” He cuts you off.

You pause.

“Thank you.” You smile, looking at his hard expression, he nods.

Its silent for a while, Miles just recollecting with his eyes closed.

“Youve been with the cops yet?” He asks calmly. The question startles you.

“…excuse me?”

“You got my name, you know my face, you could rat me out n’ get that reward money.” He says, opening his eyes to look at you.

“is that…what you want me to do..?” You ask, looking at him in confusion.

“Im asking why you haven’t already.” He stated.

“Oh. because I dont want to.”

Miles furrowed his eyebrows.

“I like you, Miles. Plus you helped me out when I needed you. What you do as the prowler doesn’t really concern me.” You say.

Miles stares at you a bit longer, gears turning in his head.

“You can believe me, Im not lying. Now its late, and I am kind of tired. Stay if you want, but my dad usually pops in at 7 to say hes leaving for work.” You say, moving the covers so you could properly get into bed.

You look over at Miles, whos still sitting quietly at you desk.

You lock eyes with him, holding out your hand.

He stares for a while longer, before slowly getting up and sitting on your bed.

He doesn’t get under the coveres, opting to sit with his back against the headboard. He lets you curl up besides him, laying your head in his lap.

His hand ghosts over your shoulder, rubbing soft circles with his thumb as your eyes close.

“Goodnight Miles.”

“…..goodnight y/n.”

When your father wakes you up the next morning as hes leaving, the bed is empty and Miles is gone.

You rub your eyes a little bit, looking to see if he left anything behind.

On your bedside table there was another note.

“ maybe we should schedule meet ups. xxx-xxx-xxxx -miles”

You smile to yourself, immediately putting his number in your phone.

tags:

@caffeine-mess @arachnenotes @erensbbg @nightshxdex @el-chiste @3alvatore @sh-tposter2021 @miatjie @agstuffsworld @ella34435 @iluvdi0r @pulling-out-my-eyes @vakiui @bigpepperpicker @swaggybae @tsukisaiki @osebb

[miriellesandthegiantpeach]

Side Effects | Bucktommy

“He’s going to be drowsy and a little out of it, Evan,” the nurse tells him as the nurse leads him through the recovery area to where they wheeled Tommy back. It was a simple surgery to fix a torn ligament in his elbow, which happened when his arm got hyperextended on a call.

“Oh I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s tough,” Buck assures the nurse who gives him an amused smile. Buck doesn’t think about that too much and goes to open the curtain and he sees Tommy in a green gown with leads and IV lines hooked all around him. Buck couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips as he saw Tommy ultra concentrated on the world's smallest juice box on the tray in front of him.

“Hi baby, how’re you feeling?” Buck asks and ducks down to press a quick kiss to Tommy's hairline.

That gets Tommy’s attention and he looks up at Buck with still glassy eyes. “Wow, are you my new nurse?!” Tommy asks.

Buck chuckles and settles in the chair to the right of the bed. “No, not a nurse. I am your firefighter though,” Buck replies thinking they are in on the same joke.

Tommy’s eyes go wide and look at Buck with new concern, “firefighter? Did you save me? Is that why you're here?” Okay maybe Tommy is a little more out of it than originally thought.

Buck takes Tommy’s right hand in his being mindful of the heart monitor and sling his elbow is in. “Nope, didn’t save you. You had a minor injury, but the doc fixed you up.”

Tommy sighs in relief and is quiet for a moment, Buck thinks he might be starting to get a little more lucid. “Good. Because it’s always awkward hitting on someone after they save you, and you are the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. What’s your name?”

Alright. Not there yet, Buck sneaks a look at the nurse who’s monitoring Tommy’s vitals and they share a knowing smile. Even still, Tommy can make him blush out of nowhere. Buck plays along. “My name’s Evan, most people call me Buck though.”

Tommy scrunches his nose, “No, I don’t think I like ‘Buck’, I like Evan better,” Tommy declares confidently. Buck definitely likes Evan better when it comes out of Tommy’s mouth too.

“Well that’s a relief since my husband likes Evan better too,” Buck goads Tommy, mainly just to see his reaction.

Tommy throws his head back against the pillow and all but whines, “Noooo, of course all the hot ones are taken.” Buck hears the nurse stifle a laugh.

Buck feels a little evil. “Well luckily for you, he and I aren’t that serious,” Buck tells Tommy with a wink. Apparently Tommy has no awareness of Buck’s hand that has been connected to him this entire time. But, you know, details.

Buck scoots closer to Tommy’s face, inches within kissing distance and Buck is looking at Tommy with a smug smile, he plans to give Tommy all of the shit about this when the anesthesia fully wears off.

Tommy is staring at Buck’s lips as he whispers, “won’t your husband know?”

“Not to worry, handsome, he’s on a different planet right now,” Buck whispers back and closes the distance to kiss his stoned husband chastely on the lips.

When Buck pulls back, Tommy’s dazed eyes are roaming his face and lifts his left hand to Buck’s cheek and runs his fingertips lightly down his face. The light glints off his own wedding band and Tommy looks shocked at his hand then back to Buck with this mouth falling open.

“Holy shit,” Tommy says like he’s heartbroken, on the verge of tears, “I’m married too.” This time both Buck and the nurse lose it.

***

About an hour later when they get home Tommy seems to be back to normal, only a little groggy.

“Ugh, so happy to be home. Thank you, baby for taking care of me,” Tommy sighs as he walks up to Buck and kisses him. His smile turns into a frown when he looks at Buck's face. Buck returns with his own confused look.

“What happened here? Did you hit your head?!” Tommy asks full of concern and Bucks is lost until the second Tommy strokes his left eyebrow carefully. Buck has to close his eyes and bite his lips to keep his laugh in.

“Baby, that is a birthmark, it’s been there this whole time,” Buck replies evenly.

Tommy shakes his head with an unsure laugh, “right. Right, of course.” He pointedly avoids Buck’s sparkling eyes. “I’m just tired, bed?”

“Yeah, bed.” Buck turns Tommy around and guides him by the hips towards the bedroom.

[icallhimjoey]

joey taking care of sick!reader? he’d be so gentle and caring

ok, so, i'll give you gentle and caring, but ive added a little bit of frustration and annoyance for extra flavour <3 hope thats ok! Wordcount: 1.9K

--- Snugly, Softly, Sleepy

It was cold.

“I’m so done with you,” Joe scolded, his soft gentle touch a stark contrast from the annoyance in his tone.

So cold.

“You never just tell me things, do you? I’m always finding out when it’s already too late, when it’s gone too far and you’re knee deep in shit we could have easily prevented.”

We.

Like Joe had any power over the flu sneaking into your system.

“Couldn’t have just said you weren’t feeling the best before we went out, for fuck’s sake, and look– 39.2, oh my God,” he genuinely sounded pissed off.

Because he was.

A lethal mixture of guilt, exhaustion, frustration and, if he was honest, a little bit of fear. One day he was going to wake up and you’d be half dead, just because you succeeded in lying to yourself and everyone else about how you really felt.

“For fuck’s sake, babe. 39.2 is not normal.”

It didn’t help that it had just gone 3 AM, and that he’d rather be asleep. He had been, for a little while, until he woke up from a chill and realised you’d stolen all of the covers.

“Darling,” he’d whispered then, giving the duvet a slight tug which immediately and all too easily pulled you into consciousness.

“Mm?”

You had been in a weird half awake half asleep state, sort of restless. Tired enough to let yourself doze, yet unable to get comfortable enough to really fall asleep properly. You somehow felt too hot and too cold at the same time, face burning, but body shivering.

When you croaked a soft, “Sorry,” as you rolled over, Joe got a glimpse of the sheen of your skin, how some of your hair stuck to your forehead, and the deep blush of your cheeks.

“Hey,” Joe spoke softly, but said it urgently enough for you to open your eyes. “Sleepy girl. Are you all right?”

“Fine. Just cold.” You’d murmured then, scooting closer to Joe as the duvet unraveled around you.

A hesitant hand moved across, landing at your waist, immediately aware of how hot you felt. And how clammy.

“Babe, no,” Joe said a little louder this time as he sat up in bed. “You’re sweating, you’re,” he felt your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

You replied with mumbled nonsense, searching out Joe’s body heat after exiting the damp cocoon you’d created, now only more aware of how cold the air of the room was. You didn’t get a chance to find it though.

What followed next was the lights turning on, covers being thrown back, soft gruntled swearing and brows furrowing deeply as the flinch and shiver of your full body reaction left an awful feeling in Joe’s chest. The reveal of a drenched bed, of wet fabric that stuck to your chest, made Joe swipe a hand down his face.

“Of course you feel cold. All right, c’mon. Up.”

Your body had never felt heavier, every muscle tense and aching. Joe had to put real work into getting you to sit up in bed, which was difficult with eyes that didn’t want to adjust to the bright light all that willingly.

“My God, did you get food poisoning? How did this come about so quickly?” Joe pulled at your top, wet with sweat, and with eyes closed and your head flopping every which way, you let the boy undress you. “Do you feel nauseous?”

“N-no, just– …”

Joe thought you were going to say cold again, which made sense but felt so weird in contrast to the flaming heat that was radiating from your skin.

“Thirsty.” You then finished, sagging to the side a little, so ready to curl back into bed and to let sleep pull at you.

“Wait, wait. Careful. Left hand,” Joe guided you into dry clothes, unimpressed at how difficult you were making it for him. “No, the other left. Left– oh my God.” You weren’t exactly helping, limbs weak and heavy with sleep.

When the soft cotton of one of his jumpers got pulled down your frame, you instantly felt a little better.

A rough hand pushed hair from your forehead, and Joe’s cold hand felt so nice against your skin, you whined as you reached up, grabbing his wrist to keep it in place.

“That feel nice?”

“Yea,” you sighed, moving his hand across your face wherever you needed some cool relief, humming when gave you his other hand as well. It gave Joe the chance to glance a look behind you, at the wet rumpled sheets that were going to need a change.

Joe was tired and slightly annoyed, because there was not a chance that this had just come about after you’d gone to sleep which was just so typical. If it hadn’t been the middle of the night, he’d have pushed you into a hot shower. Couldn’t do that now; you were practically falling back asleep as your teeth chattered whilst you relished under Joe’s cool hands, pressed against your cheeks.

“Thirsty girl. Okay. Let’s go check how bad this is.”

“Noo,” you softly whined, eyes still closed, body so very ready to just flop back down onto the mattress.

“None of that,” Joe said sternly, kindness lining his words as he pulled you up to your feet. “Bedding needs a change, and you need some, I don’t know, ibuprofen, for one…”

You let yourself be lead over into the kitchen in the dark and parked yourself against the counter, leaning into the surface as much as you could. With your eyes closed, maybe you could just fall asleep right here, even if it was cold – you could sort of drift like you’d been doing before…

“Water.” Joe grumbled, pulling you from your daze as he handed you a full glass.

You had a few sips of luke warm water with your eyes closed.

The biggest chill came from the nape of your neck; your hair there soaked with sweat, and pulling your shoulders up only helped so much.

“Tablet.” An ibuprofen got pushed into your palm.

Then, you heard the kettle turn on and you smiled to yourself. A nice warm mug of tea was so very welcome, even just the idea of it made you go a little more lax.

“Can you– careful!”

You nearly dropped the glass you were holding.

“Oh, sor–”

Before you had even finished the sentence, Joe’d removed the glass from your hand and with two arms curling around your thighs, he lifted you onto the counter.

A frowning face made you a cup of tea, a swearing voice checked your temperature, and a worried set of hands took hold of your head before Joe softly said, “What am I going to do with you, hey? Poorly girl.”

39.2 degrees.

Joe couldn’t not be worried at your half-opened unfocused eyes that he couldn’t really seem to make contact with.

Joe whispered your name, and it almost sounded like a cry for help.

“Mm? Take me back to bed…” you softly murmured in answer to his question as you let your head be fully supported by Joe’s hands. “Please.”

“Bed’s soaked, baby.”

He wasn’t going to lay you back down in the puddle you’d left behind.

“Oh. Sorry...”

Joe didn’t need you to be sorry. He needed you dry and warm and comfortable.

Just a minute ago he had every intention to leave you in the kitchen for a second to go change the sheets, but stood in between your legs with your 39.2-degree-fever-face in his hands, he couldn’t find it in himself to leave you on your own.

“We’ll sleep on the sofa. Gotta tell me next time you don’t feel okay. Can’t ever do this again.”

He rested the back of his hand against your forehead once again, checking to feel what 39.2 degrees really felt like before ducking his head a little to look at you, gazes meeting. Even in the low light, Joe’s big eyes shone with worry.

“You hear me? Fucking tell me when you have a chill, all right? When you start feeling achy and sick.”

You nodded sluggishly, mind moving slow, every thought a little foggy.

“I promise I’ll tell you immediately next time, doctor.” you tried to make light of it, but you felt how you were rejecting the idea already. You were known to need help from time to time, but known even more for not accepting a single fucking inch of it. Joe was probably joking anyway, it was hard to tell with him sometimes, he’d keep a straight face for too long and the joke would pass and he’d forget to smile.

You got an unimpressed look in return whilst two arms swung a throw blanket around your back and then two big hands furiously rubbed over your upper arms.

“You’re close to your fever being dangerous, you know. This isn’t funny, okay?”

You rarely got sick anyway, there was no need for Joe to worry so much.

“Okay?”

But he was persistent, and all you could really do, was comply.

The smile slipped from your face before you softly said, “Yea, ‘kay”

You were practically boneless as Joe helped you down from the counter and onto sofa. The furthest he strayed away from you was about four steps when he went to grab two of the other throw blankets you kept in a basket near the sofa.

You got tucked in as well as you could be tucked in on the sofa before Joe joined you, curled up in the corner right next to you.

In a dry jumper, with two blankets wrapped around you, and a hot tea in your body, you should have felt toasty beyond what was even really comfortable. Yet, when Joe snuggled up next to you, covered by his own throw blanket, he could feel you shake through all of the fabric still.

It just made him cuddle up tighter.

Made him rub your arms, and pull you closer.

Joe nuzzled your nose with his own, and made you hum softly.

“Still cold, chilly girl?”

“Mm,” you replied, too tired to speak, your tone telling him absolutely nothing.

It felt safer to presume that you were still cold, which left Joe to rearrange his limbs over your body, scooting up enough to press your head into the crook of his neck.

He was going to hug this fever right out of you, you just watch.

He’d fix the bed tomorrow.

He’d help you shower in the morning.

He’d make sure you were going to get all the fluids and nutrients your body craved.

But right now, he’d see that you got the rest you needed.

And it was easy to fall asleep in Joe’s arms as they wrapped around you firmly. One of his legs slung over both of yours, and one of his hands made sure your head stayed in place exactly where he wanted it.

“Better?” Joe wasn’t expecting an answer, so he couldn’t help his little smile when he got a really faint, “Mm.” in reply.

“Sleep, cosy girl.” were the last words you heard Joe whisper, followed by a soft kiss pressed into your hair, before you let sleep take you.

---

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Add yourself

[inmydr3amz]

Could you write a bailey's sister! Make out with benj nielsen?

°⋆｡right in front of you

​🇧​​🇪​​🇳​​🇯​ ​🇳​​🇮​​🇪​​🇱​​🇸​​🇪​​🇳​

✦ synopsis: in which benj realizes the right girl has been right in front of him all along

⟡ content warnings: none just fluff!

✦ word count: 1223

✮⋆ a/n: sorry this took me so long ive been busy w school 😭😭 also idk if this is what u had in mind. If not, feel free to drop another request w more details!! ⋆✮

p.2

You hate your sister for a lot of things: the fact that she doesn't let you wear her make-up, or her clothes, the fact that she's embarrassed to be seen with you, the fact that she still calls you her "baby sister" even though you're 15 now and only a year younger than her anyway, the fact that Benj has been in love with her for years even though she has this weird push and pull thing with him where she treats him like shit but then acts like she likes him when she doesn't actually give two shots about her him and just like the attention all the while you've always been right there.

One thing you don't hate about her, though, is the fact that she drops you off at the Nielsens' when she picks Alyssa up to hang out because it comes with a perk—you get to spend the day with Benj.

You've been best friends your entire lives because while your sisters were casting you off to the side, you were hanging out with each other.

And still, the idiot has heart eyes for the one sister who doesn't look his way, when all you've ever done is see him.

Your sister is a stupid jerk, you're sure of it, a damn toxic bitch, too—pulling the sweetest boy you've ever known along for the flattery then tossing him away when she's bored, or finds someone else, or simply when they're at school because she's embarrassed to be seen around Freshmen when she's literally just a Sophmore.

Sisterly love and all that—but that doesn't mean you have to like her.

It's getting to you now, like it always does, and it's bubbling up, up, up, 'till it just comes out—

Saturday afternoon. Rainy. Cold. You're laying on Benj's bed, staring at the ceiling, legs draped over the edge. You're wearing one of his sweaters. You listen to the sound of the rain tapping against the window, the glass cold to the touch.

He's sitting next to you, so close you can feel his body heat, and the mattress dips under your head whenever he bounces his thigh. He has his lower lip between his teeth, muttering little swears. Hands grip the controller, eyes trained on the shooter game displayed on the T.V. in front of him.

He groans and mutters a soft "Fuck." as he loses, tipping back a little.

You just can't take it. You really, really can't—

"Hey, Benj?"

He pulls one side of his head seat away from his ear. "Hmm?" he hums, looking down at you.

"Why do you like my sister?"

His face flushes—not because you're not supposed to know. He knows you know; he told you himself. You still remember the day: 4th grade, when he'd started chasing frogs. His face was red from running around when he met you under the slide at recess. Bailey and Alyssa were on the seesaw. He'd leaned over and said, "I like someone." You got excited because you thought it might be you. And then he said it was your sister. Your relationship with her has been strained ever since.

No, he just didn't expect it. You can tell because he's choking on air when normally he loves talking about Bailey.

He coughs one more time to clear his throat. "What?" he asks, strained.

You sit up to be eye-level with him and play with the sleeves of his hoodie you're wearing. It even smells like him—shampoo and lotion and vanilla.

"Bailey. Why do you like her? She's a bitch."

"Oh, come on," he says, and there's an amused glint in his eyes. He knows you and your sister don't get along. He and Alyssa don't get along very well, either. "I know o don't have the best relationship with my own sister, either, but don't you think you're being a little mean?"

"Benj, seriously." You're sounding upset now.

He was going to start a new game—but he stops short hearing your curt tone. He puts his controller down and hooks his headset around his neck. "Y/N, what's going on?"

You take a shaky intake of breath, feeling tears start to prick at your eyes—and your jaw start to set the more you think about your sister. "How do you like Bailey? She doesn't even like you. Hell, she's embarrassed by you!" you exclaim, throwing your hands around.

His face furrows with confusion, then intense with a flicker of pain. He slumos back. "You're being mean," he says softly, defeated. You hate seeing him defeated. He's too nice to look defeated.

You chew on the inside of your cheek hard to fight off how queasy you feel. "I'm not trying to be mean, Benj. I just don't think you should waste your time on her." When I'm right here.

When I actually appreciate you.

When I actually love you.

Even with that sad, puppy dog face, he still has a little awestruck glow in his eyes. "Because she just . . ." He sighs dreamily. "She's great, you know? She's pretty, and funny, and—"

You've taken this for years now. You can't. Not today.

You kiss him.

It's mindless, really. Your body leans forward of it's own accord, driven by the way you yearn for him.

His eyes widen and he just freezes, holding his hands up like he's scared to move. When it ends, and you look at him like you're a little shocked by your own actions, it hits him: he's fucking in love with you.

Sure, there's always been that Baily infatuation—but that was always the chase of the unattainable thing. It's easier to want someone you know you'll never have a chance with because then when you're rejected you don't have to confront the forever-hungry fear that maybe you're unlovable. It was never real.

But you? Oh, you . . .

You've always been real.

"Benj—" you go to say when he grabs you by the elbow and pull you into a bruising kiss. There's no hesitation this time, no freezing up. You flow right into it, melt under him as he shuffles, hand on the small of your back as he guides you to lay down. Your lips move against his like they have a mind of their own. The kiss is messy and unexperienced and it doesn't matter because it's good and it's Benj.

God, nothing has ever felt so natural.

You fist his shirt and pull his body against yours. He's half against you, holding himself up with his forearm next to your head, that hand absentmindedly playing with your hair, the other hand grabbing your waist and shifting you in time with his shifts under him and all you can think is hands, hands, hands.

Benj's hands.

Hot hands.

Hand placement.

That hand slipping under your (his) sweater to hold your bare skin.

He lets out a little desperate sound before pulling away, panting and eyes glazed over. You're panting too, loosening your grip on his shirt to press your hands flat on his chest.

Benj blinks, wets his lips. "I really have been wasting my time with Bailey," he quips breathlessly.