#but it happened so hard my brain won’t even let me fix it

[hips-like-battleships]

Do you ever think about how, odds are with a tiefling, Halsin will still be alive to see Tav put in the ground?

BECAUSE I THINK ABOUT IT 😭

“It will be untamed, vigorous, and, well… large.”

[bubblegumgothglados]

This is my RACK focused judgment free primer for heavy impact play. It covers every part of the body from head to toe and at no point does it say you can’t do something just the risks of doing so. I don't normally put warnings on my posts but most of my writing is fantasy, this isn't. I'm going to talk about any number of painful deaths and heaps more ways of becoming disabled.

In this primer "you" means the one doing the hitting, "victim" is the one being hit, and "tool" is the thing you're hitting with which could be a fist, foot, hammer, bat, anything. I'm writing it this way because its fun for me.

This primer also assumes you know the different types of impacts and how they affect the body, if you don't go look at my other writings.

Finally i take no responsibility for anything you do. All this information is what i could put together from medical journals and car crash reports if I've got anything wrong (and you can prove it) please let me know.

Enjoy

Head. With hits to the head, the two major concerns are concussions and neck injuries. A concussion occurs when a person’s brain impacts with the inside of their skull, this happens because the brain is suspended in fluid so if the skull stops or starts moving suddenly the brain will move out of sync with the skull. Symptoms of concussions can include headaches, confusion, lack of coordination, memory loss, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, ringing in the ears, sleepiness, and excessive fatigue. If your victim lost consciousness for any length of time and is having trouble speaking or understanding your words, you need to get them to the ER. There is no cure for a concussion but the best treatment is pain medication and activities that won’t tax the brain to give it time to recover. There are any number of ways to damage a neck, but generally it happens when a person’s neck is moved suddenly and violently or pushed past its limit. Minor injuries should heal by themselves within a few weeks but if unlucky pain and stiffness can last months or even years. For more major injuries, physical therapy or a neck brace might be necessary but only if the pain lasts longer than a few weeks. It’s also possible to hit someone hard enough to break their neck or fracture their skull but that takes a lot of force. All of these injuries can be avoided by supporting your victim’s head and neck by bracing their head against a surface or holding their head with your hand.

Jaw. It takes surprisingly little force to dislocate a jaw, you can do so with a good slap Dislocations are talked about in Note 3 at the bottom of this primer. Heavy bleeding from gums or a tooth that feels loose could indicate a fractured root. This is a fairly minor issue and if you see a dentist quickly they should be able to fix it back in place with no lasting damage. A tooth that has been knocked out completely should survive; get your victim to rinse their mouth out and rinse the tooth off and shove it back into the gap, and then have them see a dentist to make sure it’s properly seated and avoid chewing with it for a while.

Eyes. A fun combination of fragile and complicated. There's no first aid tips I can give you and it'll be real obvious if something is wrong. I will say you don't have to hit someones eye to give them a black eye, it’s bruising around the eye socket that matters. Also check Note 1 about the use of ice when treating injuries.

Nose. It’s more difficult than you think to break a nose. You definitely can with a good punch but you'll have to really commit. A broken nose isn't that serious (I've broken mine twice now) and isn't even ER worthy. If your victim is leaning backwards after breaking their nose the blood will run down the back of their throat potentially making them vomit or very sick. There is a chance a broken nose will heal in a way that restricts breathing in which case your victim may need surgery.

Cheek bone. Below the temple but above the gum line, running from just bellow their ear to their nose. Special mention to this spot because it’s the best place to hit your victim in the head (in my opinion). This piece of bone is very sturdy and not that risky to fracture. Plus, when you hit them here they have to watch it coming.

Neck. The windpipe, jugular, cranial nerves, vagus nerve, carotid arteries, and spine all live here and damage to any of these can cause permanent disability or death. Seek medical attention if your victim has trouble breathing or swallowing, or a lot of pain or swelling. Stingy tools are far less risky here than thuddy tools.

Shoulders. Note 2 on joints. The shoulder blades can either be an ideal impact location or one of the most risky depending on how it’s sitting. If the shoulder blade is jutting out away from the rest of the back, it’s very easy to damage If it’s laying flat against the back, it’s protected by a thick layer of fat and muscle.

Biceps. Top 4 impact location. The main concern is damaging the elbow and shoulder joints, if hitting in a way that will pull on those joints. Much like with the head, bracing the impact area against a surface will minimize the risk. Repeated hits to this area can temporarily disable the arm, which is fun.

Forearm. As above, the main risk is damaging the adjoining joints. There are also several important blood vessels and nerves running through this area and not a lot of fat an muscle to protect them.

Hands. Very little fat or muscle, mostly tendons, nerves, and cartilage. See Note 2 on joints. Special note to the palm, which hurts like hell but is relatively safe because of the extra muscle and fat in that area, great for punishment. Once again, stingy tools are much less risky than thuddy tools.

Breasts/ biceps. Top 4 impact locations. Thick layers of fat, muscle, and bone protect anything vital.

Sternum. That is the bone running down the center of a person’s chest that connects to their ribs. Not in itself very fragile but the cartilage that connects it to the ribs is easily damaged and will take a long time to heal. A fractured sternum will likely cause shortness of breath and pain when taking deep breaths. There's not much to be done about these injuries just rest and avoiding strenuous activity.

Spine. The single most risky impact location. Any damage to the spine risks permanent paralysis of everything below that point. As ever, stingy tools present less risk than thuddy tools.

Rib cage. Designed to protect a person’s most vital organs, the rib cage is very strong. Fractured ribs will cause pain breathing but aren't particularly serious. Snapped ribs can pierce organs If this happens, it'll be immediately obvious and medical intervention is required to prevent painful death. Special note to the 'floating' ribs at the bottom of a persons rib cage which don't connect to the sternum and are therefore much less resilient. Second special note to the spot right above a persons heart. A significantly hard impact at exactly the wrong moment in their cardiac cycle can stop their heart. They will loose consciousness and you will need to give them CPR until they can be defibrillated. This is ridiculously unlikely but better to mention just in case.

Abdomen. If you feel around your victim’s belly, you can figure out the line where their abdominal muscles sit. If you have them tense these muscles, you can hit them fairly hard with relatively little risk because the muscles plus the fat in that area create a thick layer of protection. (Pro tip: "Stay tense or this will might kill you" is not only true but hot and terrifying). Outside of that area or if they don't tense, there's real risk of bruising or even rupturing their intestines, which carries a 50-70% survival rate depending on how quickly you can get them to the ER. Symptoms to look out for are bloating, diarrhea, loss of appetite, and fatigue. Special note to the kidneys, which sit next to the backbone just below the rib cage and are very easily bruised. The primary symptom to look for is blood when peeing. As always, stingy tools carry less risk than thuddy tools.

Gluteus maximus. That's their butt. Hit it as hard as your victim will let you. Enough has been said about this region; I don't feel the need to recover that ground. Note 4 on bruises.

Genitals. I'm not going to get into CBT, that's a separate kink. But the vagina is very durable as it’s pretty much just flesh and fat on the outside Minimal risk, go to town.

Thigh. Top 4 impact location. Outer thigh will hurt more and bruise more. As with the head and arms, the primary risk is damaging the adjoining joints. Note 4 on bruises because this is the primary place for DVT.

Calf. As above. Shins are also a great location for punishment because they hurt like hell.

Feet. Very similar to hands. The soles of a person’s foot are intended to impact with the ground frequently and with some force, so they can take a fair bit of punishment.

Note 1. Ice. It is no longer suggested injury procedure to use ice to reduce swelling. Yes, it is effective at reducing swelling but we now understand swelling is an important part of the healing process and although ice might make it feel and look better in the short term, it actually increases the amount of time the injury will take to heal. You want the blood to be able to flow to the injury to take away dead cells and bring nutrients and energy.

Note 2. Joints. Neck, spine, shoulders, elbows, wrists, fingers, hips, knees, ankles, and toes. The reason these are almost always labeled "red" or "no go" on impact play body maps is because these are choke points for blood vessels and nerves; they are made of fragile tendons and cartilage, and they have very little padding for protection. They're also important for movement day to day and very difficult to heal properly. If a joint is damaged, you can buy braces for every joint from most pharmacies.

Note 3. Dislocations. If you're lucky, a partial dislocation will relocate by itself if you move the joint around as you normally would, not forcing it or trying to manipulate it with your hand, just moving it with its own muscles. If it does naturally relocate but you still have pain a few weeks later seek a medical professional. If you're unlucky or if it’s a total dislocation, you will have to see a medical professional. DO NOT TRY TO FORCE IT BACK INTO PLACE!

Note 4. Bruises. Normally, bruises are nothing to worry about but there are situations where a deep bruise can be a health concern. If the bruise continues to get worse after a week, there could be a hematoma under the skin, which is like a blood clot, and might need to be removed. The other possible complication is Deep Vein Thrombosis, which is a blood clot and can be lethal, if not treated quickly. With DVT, the symptoms are tenderness, warmth, and a "pulling sensation" which are pretty normal impact play symptoms. But if you're doing impact play at the level that could cause DVT, then you and your victim should know their healing process intimately, so if something feels off or isn't healing right, get them to a medical professional; better safe than dead.

[wikiangela]

you're my happily ever after (so i'll take my chance now, risk it all somehow)

rating: G

words: 2.6k

8x06 fix-it, because I'm pissed - I or my fics aren't going anywhere tho <3

thank you to @evansboyfrend for beta reading, ily 🫶

[also on Ao3]

It feels like the whole world is crumbling down. It feels like the Earth should shake, burst on fire, open up and swallow everything around. As dramatic as it is, he kind of expects it to happen, and it’s weird that he’s still sitting here. His ears are ringing, panic rising in his chest with each of Tommy’s words. He watches Tommy get up and head for the door, and he’s frozen to his spot. It’s not- it can’t be. It fucking can’t be. “Wait,” he finally manages to say, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “did you just break up with me?” He asks, hoping to any entity that listens that he just misinterpreted it, that he got it wrong. Because- because he can’t lose Tommy. He’s falling for him so fast and so hard. He’s ready for the next step. He’s ready to move in together. He’s ready to talk about one day, eventually, maybe getting married. He knows he wants that. He knows what he wants, and he wants Tommy.  “Yeah, I guess I did.” Tommy answers, glancing back at him, his expression sad but firm. But Buck knows him. Knows that this mask will crumble into something devastated as soon as he leaves. That Tommy’s heart will shatter, just as Buck’s is right now. He can see through Tommy, he knows that he cares about Buck. It just- it doesn’t make sense. What was he even talking about… It was all so much, so fast, Buck’s brain is still scrambling trying to understand it all.  “Believe me, I didn’t see-” Tommy starts, but Buck shakes his head and interrupts him. “No.” He stands up, his legs feeling shaky. Tommy fully turns towards him, confusion in his face. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” He frowns.

“I mean, no, you’re not breaking up with me.” Buck says more confidently than he feels. Because this can’t be it. The last six months, the best six months of his fucking life, can’t end like this. Can’t end at all. He won’t have this. “I know you care about me. And I care about you. And I don’t want to break up.” He sees Tommy open his mouth to speak, his expression hardening – putting on a mask again, trying to hide the hurt. He speaks again before Tommy can. “If you truly, genuinely want this, not because you think it’s gonna be better for me or you, but because you don’t want to be with me, fine, I can respect that. But I won’t accept it without a fight. I- I wanna fight for us, Tommy.” Buck steps closer to him, hoping that Tommy doesn’t step back, that might just break him. He doesn’t, he’s stuck in place, sad eyes on Buck’s. “Let me fight for us. You-” he adds quickly, on a roll now, not wanting Tommy to interrupt until after he’s done, after he’s said his piece. He needs to say it all now, let Tommy know how he feels. He can’t watch him leave without trying to fix it first. Tommy’s looking at him intently, just listening, not even trying to speak. “You gave me a second chance once, when I fucked up our first date, and I- I want to believe it wasn’t for nothing. So- so you’re my first man, so what?” Buck throws his hands up in frustration, he thinks he’s starting to sound a little frantic, speaking faster and faster. He just can’t let Tommy leave without him knowing exactly how Buck feels. “It’s far from my first relationship ever. Why- why is it so different just because you’re a man? It shouldn’t be. I don’t need to date other people, experiment or whatever else. I’ve dated people, slept around, did it all. I know how that goes, how it feels, and I don’t want to do it again. I know what I want, Tommy. And I want you. And don’t you dare tell me how I feel.” He feels anger seep in, Tommy’s words ringing in his head. What the actual fuck was he thinking? “I’m a grown man, I know how I feel. Yeah, it’s new and exciting, but it’s also real. It’s real to me, and- and if there’s any chance of forever, I want to take it. And-” he takes a breath. He feels like he’s been speaking in one breath, feeling a little lightheaded now, his heart hammering. Or maybe that’s just the panic. “And don’t start with the whole ‘I’m not your last’ bullshit.” He shakes his head again, tears welling up in his eyes, anger still building. Really, what in the world? How could Tommy want to just throw away the most wonderful relationship that’s happened to Buck in years? Maybe ever? “You don’t know that. I don’t know that. Yeah, we could break up one day. But you could also be my forever, and I could be yours. I’d love a chance to find out, even if it hurts in the end. But maybe that’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one here brave enough to risk it. And- and what about my heart, huh?” Tears are threatening to spill, his voice shaking now, with sadness and anger, and desperation. He can’t let him go, he can’t. “You said I’d break your heart eventually. But this, right now? This is you breaking mine.” He finishes, almost panting now, his monologue taking the wind out of him, wanting to say everything on his mind, in his heart. He hopes he got his point across. 

“Evan.” Tommy just whispers, with a pained expression. There are tears in his eyes, too, one lone one slipping through, falling down his cheek. Buck’s hand itches to reach out and wipe it off, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to anymore. 

“Give us a chance, Tommy. Let us fight for this. Fight for me, for us. Fight with me.” He’s aware he sounds like he’s begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. This is too important. “I thought it’s been so good between us lately-”

“It has!” Tommy rushes to say. “It’s been amazing. You make me so happy. That’s why I’m scared, I just- I’m sorry, Evan, but I can’t let myself get hurt like this again. Because I- I’ve been there before, and it was hard to get back up, and with you- I don’t think I’d be able to ever recover from this one.” He admits, his stone-faced facade crumbling, and Buck can see his own feelings reflected in Tommy’s expression. Sad, devastated, heartbroken. 

“We can- we can take some time apart.” Buck says around a lump in his throat. He feels like he can’t breathe. All he wants is to rewind until before he dropped the moving in bomb which must be what made Tommy freak out. He could say anything else, and take it slower, and maybe they’d be on their way out right now, a date night like they planned. “If that’s what you need. A break. But not for good. And then let’s come back to it clear-headed, knowing for sure what we want. And if you still want to break up, I- I’ll respect that. But I already know what I want,” he repeats firmly, decisively. “I want a future with you. I want to move in together, and one day down the line get married, and- and I want it all with you. We can slow down if I’m rushing this. I tend to do that, and if it’s scaring you, I’m sorry.” He adds, not wanting to backtrack any of this, but aware of how intense he’s coming off. He’s never been more serious about anything in his life. “But the past six months have been the best in my life. I’ve never felt so happy, so free, so comfortable, so safe. And I’m not giving up on you, Tommy. I will fight for you until I can’t anymore, until you tell me that you don’t care about me and I should just fuck off.”

“Evan. You know I’ll never say that.” Tommy responds quietly.

“I know. Because I’m confident in us, in the fact that you do care, and you do want me. I know that.” Buck emphasizes, and realizes, not for the first time, that he never felt like this before. This secure. This confident about someone wanting him. “I also know you’re just trying to protect yourself, your heart, and I get it. But I can’t let you go without a fight. I won’t. I messed up a lot in my life, and I won’t mess up this. I refuse to. Because I-” he takes a sharp breath, the words pressing on his lips. He doesn’t want to say it for the first time in a possible break up, a moment of such anger and devastation. But he needs to put it all out there. Needs Tommy to understand how much he’s trying to throw away right now. “I love you, Tommy.” He confesses, sees Tommy’s face melt into the saddest expression Buck’s ever seen on anyone, tears spilling freely now. Both of theirs, he realizes, feeling wetness on his cheeks. “I’ve been falling for you a little bit more with each day we spend together, with each minute. And I know- I hope you feel the same. But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t-” he swallows thickly, the thought alone is too much to bear. 

“I can’t do that.” Tommy interrupts quickly. “Of course I love you, Evan. It happened so quickly it kind of scared me a little.” 

“I noticed.” Buck says dryly, and Tommy lets out a humorless chuckle. “If you ask me, which you didn’t, by the way, you decided for both of us, which was an asshole move,” he points out, and Tommy looks away, as if ashamed. Good. Buck loves him, which means he’s gonna call out when he’s acting shitty. “I’d rather give us a real try and get my heart shattered if it comes to this, instead of always wondering what if, always wondering if you’re my one who got away. Which you would be.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, takes a step towards Buck, now just half a step away. “I’m sorry, maybe breaking up is too hasty. Impulsive,” he scoffs at himself, probably remembering how he called Buck that just a few minutes ago. Well, so maybe they’re both a little impulsive. Not a problem, in Buck’s opinion. “I don’t- I don’t want to break up. I never want to be away from you.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand flinches at his side, like he wants to reach out, grab Buck’s, touch him. Buck hopes he does. “It just- it seemed too fast. Like you got wrapped up in the moment. It’s still so new, I thought we were taking it one step at a time, and I didn’t-” he takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and Buck knows what he says is going to sting – and it does, it feels like a gut punch, actually, “I didn’t think you were as serious about this as I was getting. And I realize we should’ve done the mature thing and talked it out. I’m sorry. It’s just, we’ve barely talked about any future here. But I want it, of course I do. I’m just- I’m scared. My heart has never been in this much danger.” He looks into Buck’s eyes as he says it, more vulnerable than ever. This is everything Buck wants right now, for them to talk, to discuss this, to try fixing it, instead of one of them running away and the other giving up and not fighting for it. Buck’s been there, he doesn’t want a repeat.

“Tommy.” Buck is the one to close the distance between them, carefully brings his hands up to cup Tommy’s face, giving him a chance to back away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he breathes out a sigh of relief, like he craved Buck’s touch as much as Buck craves his. “You remember when I told you I wanted something with you? Even though I didn’t know what that something was yet?” he asks and Tommy nods slightly, Buck’s palms still resting on his cheeks. “I’ve been serious about you since that precise moment. About pursuing this, and wanting some kind of future with you. I know I tend to rush into things, it’s been a problem before.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “I tried not to do that with you, but I failed, clearly. I just think from now on, we both should stay and talk and try to work it out if we have any issues with something. If you still want me.” He adds a little anxiously, but relaxed when he feels Tommy’s palms settle on his hips.

“Of course I want you, Evan. I always will.” Tommy says, that loving look in his eyes, that always makes Buck’s heart melt a little. That look that Buck loves so much, that made him think that Tommy might feel the same way.

“Good. Like I said, I’m not letting you go. Ever.” He says decisively, a huge weight that’s been there since the topic even started finally lifting off his chest. This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and no matter the conclusion – which he’s pretty sure will be the happily ever after he’s always craved – it’s worth the risk, it’s worth everything.

“Good.” Tommy echoes, that gorgeous, scrunchy smile of his slowly spreading on his face, and it’s like sunshine came out from behind stormy clouds. “I don’t intend on letting you go, either. I love you, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry for… for this mess. For overreacting.”

“That’s fine, we’re past this- well, actually, we are gonna talk about it more, but at least we’re on the same page now, I hope.” Buck says, slowly leaning in. “I love you so much. I never want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry.” Tommy says again, and Buck just wants him to stop saying it. It’s fine, they’re fine now. “You won’t. You have me for as long as you want. I promise.”

“What if I want you forever?” Buck whispers, his face so close to Tommy's, their lips almost brush. It sends a shiver down his spine, like he hasn’t kissed him in days, when they just exchanged a quick kiss hello a few minutes ago.

“That works for me.” Tommy smiles again, and finally dives in for a kiss, but it lasts barely a second before he’s pulling away, Buck trying to follow. Tommy chuckles, running a comforting hand up and down Buck’s side. “But maybe let’s put a pause on the whole moving in together thing, huh? At least until we fully talk everything through.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Buck nods, his gaze flickering between Tommy’s eyes, now sparkling happily, and his pretty, kissable lips. It feels so good to be able to just have a mature conversation and resolve whatever issues arise. If they keep doing that, he thinks they’re going to be okay. He’ll make sure of that. “No need to be impulsive,” he adds, his lips twisting into a teasing smirk.

“Okay.” Tommy chuckles quietly, his cheeks reddening. “Just kiss me.” 

Buck doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Tommy like he means it, like he’s his person, like he’s the love of his life, trying to put all those emotions into a kiss. He knows for sure he’s getting the same intent back. And at this moment, in his kitchen, narrowly avoiding losing his love because of a stupid reason, he decides it. One day, not too quickly, but not too far into the future, he’s going to ask Tommy Kinard to marry him. And he’s more than sure of the response he’ll get.

[also on Ao3]

[haetrack]

haechan is always so cute when he wears those thick-rimmed glasses that it kinda just makes me wanna ruin him. imagine him looking up at you with pleading eyes and those cute glasses tilted on his face while you ride him. it’d be even better if he’s all messy, tears falling freely and his brain all muddled because all he can think about is you and how badly he wants to cum.

i NEED to hear ur thoughts on this.. it’s been a wip in my drafts for like a week i’m going insane

THIS BUT WITH NERD!HAECHAN. i need to sit down and take a breath... everyone stand back. part 2 part 3

-

“my pretty boy, what’s wrong?”

you know what’s wrong, you’re teasing him. you’re on his lap, slowly riding him as he tries to hold back cries and whimpers. his head is tilted back, his neck practically begging to be kissed. you lean forward, pressing soft, wet kisses all over. he gives up on holding back his sounds, whining out to you as he grips tightly on your hips.

“please,” he lets out a choked whimper, “just wanna cum, wan’ you to let me cum.”

he tilts forward, trying to kiss you. you move out of the way, laughing at how he tries to chase your lips. your hand grips his face, cooing at how he looks up at you with his pretty eyes. he looks dazed, already so fucked-out with just you on top of him. you haven’t even given him what he really wants, just grinding down your hips as he twitches inside of you.

“mm, it feels nice like this, though. you feel so good inside of me.”

he nods, eyes fluttering shut as you clench around him. he can’t beg, taking what you give him without complaining. he never thought this would happen, never thought you’d fuck him like this. all the nights he’s spent fisting his cock to the thought of you can’t compare to this, even if you’re practically ignoring him. he lets out a shaky breath, his blunt nails digging into the skin of your hips.

“won’t you tell me how bad you want this, my pretty baby?”

he fights off a moan, biting the inside of his cheek before he speaks, “want this so bad, thought of you so much and i just- just wanna cum.”

“aw,” you pout, “all you wanna do is cum? thought you wanted to hang out with me, too.”

he quickly shakes his head, sitting up a bit more straight, “n-no! i do! i like you so much, i want to be with you, want you to fuck me!”

a wry smile appears on your face, “that’s all i needed to hear, baby.”

you almost pull off of him before slamming your hips down. he lets out a loud cry, his hips chasing yours as he tries desperately not to cum so fast. he can’t let this end, can’t let the sight of you on top of him go. you look down at him with hooded eyes, your gaze and how good you feel against him making his face go hot.

his glasses become foggy, the sight of your teasing smile getting lost behind the fog. he whines out in embarrassment, the back of his hand reaching up to messily wipe away at the fog. he shoves his glasses a little too hard, too focused on how your warm walls suck him in deeply.

you laugh out at his crooked glasses, cooing as you fix them, “you’re so excited, so excited that you're drooling and being all clumsy.”

he nods, not trusting his shaky voice. it fails though, feeling your thumb press against his mouth, swiping at the drool that’s slipped out. he wasn’t even aware he was drooling, your body pressed against him being almost too much for him to handle. he can feel your nipples against his chest, his back arching to meet press harder against your chest.

your thumb traces his bottom lip, “suck.”

he listens, two of your fingers sliding into his mouth as he swirls his tongue around them. you’re all over him, he wants to stay like this forever. he might just be a little too obsessed with you like this, taking all that you want from him as he sits there, allowing you to do whatever.

your fingers slide out of his mouth, opting to trail under his shirt, moving to his chest. he lets out a loud whimper as he feels your wet fingers toy with his nipples. he can’t help how his hips stutter against you, the stimulation becoming too much. he can feel how tears begin to build in his eyes, pleasure consuming him.

“doesn’t this feel so nice?” you realize he’s not listening to you, watching him moan freely as his hands grip your thighs. you slow down your pace, grinding down on his cock as you try to ignore how his tip hits your sweet spot. you pinch his nipple, his chest arching into yours as he almost cums on the spot.

“pay attention to me,” you whine, “or else i’ll make myself cum on your cock and leave you here all by yourself.”

he lets out a shaky breath, “s-sorry. it just feels too good, you fuck me so good.” his eyes look up at you, losing focus as he sees the grin on your face. he has to tell himself to pay attention, tries to refocus as your hips begin to bounce against him again. the sound of skin against skin, the harsh sting of your nails digging into his skin making his cock twitch. he loves it all.

he realizes he’s crying when you press kisses against his cheeks, tongue swiping out to lick them up. you can feel his warm breath fan across your face, whispers of your name filling the little space between the both of you. when you lean back, his eyes bore into yours, “can i please cum? wanna fill you up…”

you smile, hand reaching up to wipe a stray tear off his cheek. you clean his glasses for him, wiping them against his shirt before placing them back on his nose. he thanks you, hips pushing inside of you, trying to remind you what he really wants. you move his hands back to your hips, feeling how he grips at the flesh, taking you all in.

“i’ll give my baby whatever he wants.”

you hear him whisper out a small thank you as you move faster, feeling how restless he’s become. he doesn’t care about how loud he’s being, doesn’t care about how much he might seem like a desperate loser right now. none of it matters when you’re here right now, your eyes watching his face, drinking up all his sounds.

when he realizes he’s close to cumming, he moves his hands up to your waist and pulls you close to him. his eyes look into yours before deeply kissing you. it’s messy, tongues moving against each other as drool slides down your chin. you can feel how hot his face is, imagining how his glasses are probably fogged up again.

you don’t care, feeling his hands reach for whatever he can grab as his hips rut into yours as he cums inside of you. spurts of cum shoot into you, his cock twitching with every movement you make. he’s moaning into your mouth, trying to fight off the overstimulation as you cum around his cock, fueled by his pretty moans and face.

he tries to push at your hips, but they move on their own as you ride him. his spent cock twitches inside of you, the pain bleeds into pleasure as you fuck yourself onto him. he can feel you slow down, pulling out of him. he realizes that it’s all over, suddenly wanting you close again. he moans out, “don’t want this to end, want you here, wan’ you to use me whenever. please, please don’t go.”

“why can’t we go for a round two?” you grin.

[babyleostuff]

hi! I was wondering if you would write an angst svt reaction about them saying something they didn’t mean in a fight but it just came out?

i decided to do this with the hhu, if you want me to do it with any of the other units let me know!

saying something they didn’t mean in a fight | hip hop unit

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 

as a leo and a fire sing myself, i’m sure that cheol can be a bit impulsive and not think his actions through, especially if it’s during a fight where his emotions are all over the place. things would get heated really quickly with him, and he’d have a hard time holding his tongue. 

“shit, baby,” he reached for your hand, eyes wide and panicked. “don’t fucking call me that seungcheol,” you pulled your wrist out of his grasp, looking at him with an expression that made his heart shutter to million pieces. 

he knew the second the words left his mouth that he shouldn't have said them, but his brain was too slow to understand that, and the heat of the argument made him lose all of his common sense. “my precious baby, i’ve hurt them,” that would be the thought that’d run through his mind, as he tried to wrap his head around what he had just done. “just… leave me alone.”

and he’d do that. he’d give you as much time as you needed, but that wouldn’t mean he’d abandon you. cheol would make you your favourite ramyeon and place it at the nightstand next to your bed where you were resting, or he’d put his hoodie in the dryer you always wore after shower, so it’d be warm and cosy. 

and he’d take his pillow and blanket from your bed to sleep on the couch, so he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, and so that you could rest peacefully. but then, after maybe an hour of tossing and turning, seungcheol would hear quiet footsteps, and a dog's paws running across the wooden floor, meaning you couldn’t sleep as well. 

you’d lay next to seungcheol, your back pressed against his warm chest, as his arms shyly sneaked around your waist to pull you even closer. “please, let’s never fight like that again,” you murmured, pulling one of cheol’s hands under your chin, nuzzling your nose against his palm.

 *ੈ✩‧₊˚ JEON WONWOO 

honestly, i have a hard time imagining wonwoo saying something he doesn’t mean. i feel like he always thinks before he talks, no matter what situation he’s in, and he strikes me as a person who is great at keeping his emotions at bay, contrary to cheol. he’d also have this thought at the back of his head that no fight is worth hurting you with his words. 

you looked at each other in confusion, as the words left wonwoo’s mouth. never in your whole relationship had he said anything like that, so you were taken aback more by the fact that he even said it more than that it was directed towards you. 

wonwoo nervously fixed his glasses, looking as lost as you. you could almost see his brain trying to understand what had just happened. “i’m sorry i… i didn’t mean what i just said,” he looked at you, eyes big and sad. 

you sighed, and grabbed his hand intertwining your fingers. “i know you didn’t mean it baby” you said, looking at his broken expression. “but you still said it.” his eyes got even wider, and he quickly cradled your face in his hands, running his thumb over your cheeks. 

“i know that no matter what i say won’t change what i did, but you have to know that no part of my mind and soul believes in what i said. that was just a stupid intrusive thought that i shouldn’t have said.” 

even though you said you forgave him, wonwoo was still very attentive to you for the rest of the evening - he had you on his lap for the whole time he was gaming, he made sure the sweatshirt you wore to bed was one of his best ones, and he cuddled you extra close to his chest that night.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ KIM MINGYU 

another fire sign, and as cheol (this might be an unpopular opinion?), might also have issues with controlling his emotions and words during heated arguments. like, i know he’s an amazing person with the best personality, etc. etc. BUT i see gyu as someone who is very defensive of his beliefs and point of views, and i think he can get quite stubborn, which can lead to him saying things he doesn’t really mean.

mingyu knew he shouldn’t have opened his mouth - both of you were consumed by your emotions and neither of you were thinking clearly. the only difference was that he let those emotions hurt you. 

“i didn’t… i don’t…,” he whispered, looking at your shattered expression. yeah, he couldn’t believe it either that those horrendous words left his mouth. you closed your eyes tightly, a single tear rolling down your cheek. the person who you trusted with your life broke your heart just like that, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. he didn’t deserve a single tear after what he had done. 

you held your head high up as you turned around and started walking towards the door. “no, no please,” mingyu followed after you, catching up with you quickly. “don’t leave my love. hate me, yell at me, punch me, but don’t leave,” his eyebrows were furrowed and eyes glossy, and you knew that he was trying not to cry as well. 

“i’ll take the couch for tonight, but stay. i won’t let you walk out, it’s too dangerous.” 

he cradled your head in his hands, and pecked your forehead gently, before disappearing in the bedroom to take his pillow and an extra blanket.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHWE VERNON 

same with wonwoo, i don’t see vernon saying something he doesn’t mean. like, i don’t think his mind even works that way. for one - arguments with him are never heated, not because he doesn’t give a fuck, but his personality and mindset are so calm and collected in itself that neither of you even have a chance to raise your voices.

“i’m sorry,” he stared at his shoes, too scared to look at you. “i’ll leave you alone.” 

he quietly closed the front door behind him, leaving you alone in your apartment, confused and sad. vernon rarely got angry, especially at you, and you had never heard him raise his voice. you had a stupid fight that probably started over something stupid, but both of you were tired and irritated and you just snapped at each other.

but you didn’t mean for him to leave. 

later that night, when the sun had already set, vernon came back home as quietly as he left. “chwe hansol, where the fuck have you been?” you exclaimed, worried to death. You threw your arms around hiis neck, pulling him close to you. You shivered as he nuzzled his cold nose into your neck, placing a gentle kiss there. 

“you know i didn’t mean what i said, right?” he asked, pulling his face away from you. “of course, silly,” you smiled at him, caressing the back of his neck. “but never leave like that again, or i’ll kick you out myself.”

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

"I'm so sorry Crewel-sensei, I did not mean to summon one of your cauldrons into the floor of Ramshackle Dorm! It's just, Grim happened and I..." - Deuce

[Relates to this little theory!]

If he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.

“SPADE!!”

Crewel’s roar rumbled in his ears. From his bowing position, Deuce winced. Somehow, even with his courage shriveled, he managed to wrench himself to address his livid professor.

“S-Sorry, sir!” Deuce repeated, bowing even deeper. “So, SO sorry!!”

“Sorry? SORRY?! Do you really believe an apology alone will fix things? This—” Crewel jerked his chin in the direction of a cauldron that had collapsed into Ramshackle’s brittle floorboards. “—has happened far too frequently!!

“How many of our school’s cauldrons have you called away? Do you know just how much in damages this costs each time? Have you not properly reflected on your actions?! Lab equipment doesn’t grow on trees!”

His pointer sailed through the air, punctuating each pressing inquiry with a harsh CRACK. It made contact not with Deuce, but with Crewel’s palm—yet he still felt the weight of its impact, the biting guilt.

“It seems as though you’ve yet to be adequately trained. I’m disappointed in you, pup,” Crewel continued with a frown. “Detention!! Am I understood?”

“Y-Yessir!” Deuce replied miserably, his face burning with shame. He couldn’t argue—not when he agreed with all of his teacher’s points.

“Then I will see you in my office, on time and prepared to learn.”

“Learn…?”

“That’s right. It falls to me to curb the bad habits of misbehaving pups.” Crewel gave a wicked grin. “That you are pulling cauldrons from only our labs… It’s proof that your imagination is limited and inflexible. This Crewel-sama will change that.

“Prepare yourself, Spade! You’ll be on the receiving end of an intensive tutoring session. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll no longer be summoning from just our supply closets—no, you’ll be reaching farther than that. And, of course, I expect you to be cognizant of when it is and is not appropriate to use your magic.”

Deuce’s confusion morphed into hope. A fire ignited in his eyes.

“Thank you very much for believing in me, Crewel-sensei!! I…. won’t forget this—and I’ll work hard to make you proud of me!”

“Your bark is commendable, but let’s see how well your bite compares. To begin with, let’s haul this cauldron back to where it belongs.”

“Yessir! I’ve got this!”

Deuce crouched and, with a grunt, hoisted the cauldron up on his back. His arms shook, muscles straining against the extra weight. He took in a deep breath, then released it with a mighty shout.

“GRAAAAAAAAAH!!”

Crewel paled. “Wait, Spade—”

Deuce bolted off, cauldron and all, racing down the street toward the main school building. His voice, a continuous string of nonsense sound, carried across campus. He was nothing if not committed.

“… I meant hauling it back with levitation magic,” Crewel groaned, fingers massaging his temple. He could feel a migraine coming on. “That pup is all brawn and no brains…”

[0310s]

gently, by your side | jaehyun

members: myung jaehyun x gender neutral reader

genre: college au, angst, comfort, best friends! to ???, more platonic stuff in this one

tags/warnings: extensive discussions of mental health and chronic/mental illness, y/n is not okay. :(

summary: jaehyun finds you after a bad week.

wc: 2.7k

a/n: this fic’s title comes from this lovely song. as someone who’s struggled with both chronic and mental illness, it really takes someone strong and amazing to keep on going, despite everything. most of the dialogue in this comes from my own musings and experiences with mental health. i wrote this for a dear mutual of mine! i hope better days will come for you soon, whenever that may be. meanwhile, i hope this gives you comfort when things are tough! sending lots of love <3 

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

5 days ago 1:28 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

(y/n) we haven’t seen each other in such a loooong time imy :(( i mean i KNOW it’s just been a couple of days since we last hung out but still!!!!!!! when are we seeing each other again !!!! tell me ur schedule QUICK !!!!

4 days ago 6:33 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeeyyyyyyyyy (with the intention to hang out) heeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy reply to meeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!! tell me when ur free pls i miss u :((

3 days ago 11:58 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

hey i didn’t see u at the party today i thought u said u were going last week!!!  also i asked around and people said they haven’t seen u around recently??? and they don’t know what ur up to

2 days ago 2:05 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeyyyy ?????????? did i do smth?????  or are u just really busy w school and work idk either way pls just let me know :(( i won’t bother u if ur rlllyyy busy

10:35 PM sorry if i’m being annoying btw

Yesterday  11:32 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

ok i thought about it reaaaaaallly hard and i don’t think i’ve done anything to make u mad or upset w me??? well aside from that time last last week that u got mad at me for accidentally messing w ur computer and deleting ur work files WHICH IM LIKE REALLY SORRY FOR but i fixed it!!!!! i thought we were good alrd!!! are u still mad at me 4 that ?

1:00 AM (y/n)?

1:28 AM idk  i thought i was ur best friend :(( did smth change???

2:47 AM pls pls reply :(( i know we can talk this out i don’t want us to not be ok

Today  3:00 PM 🐶 cutie puppy i’m coming over.

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

Sitting up from your bed, your heart thuds in anxiety as you quickly scroll through your chat history with Jaehyun. Your eyes hurt and your brain feels especially foggy, like you’re looking at the world through a particularly cloudy lens. How long did you sleep? The last thing you recall was working on your assignments last night, then choosing to sleep instead when you got overwhelmed. Even then, you slept fitfully. You remember setting an alarm at 9 AM today to continue working, but even as you sat at your desk, you couldn’t type a single sentence on your laptop. Everything felt muddled and it was as if you couldn’t understand anything at all. Even the cups of coffee you drank in desperation was of no use keeping you alert; all it did was make you palpitate.

Then you gave up, went back to bed, and you’re here now. Checking the chat timestamps, you realize you haven’t replied to Jaehyun’s messages in almost a week, which has never happened before—you talk almost everyday, even multiple times a day. Jaehyun’s last message was at 3 PM, when he said he’d come over. One look at your screen shows you it’s already 3:20. If you’ve memorized his schedule right, it takes your best friend thirty minutes to get to your dorm from his Fundamental Maths class. That means you have ten more minutes to get your shit together and clean your mess of a room. 

But right when you’ve mustered the energy to stand up, you hear a series of knocks on your door. That can’t be— “(Y/n), open up, I know you’re in there!” Jaehyun’s voice echoes from outside the door. “I asked your dormmate and she said you haven’t left your room since yesterday, so there’s no use pretending!” Shit, shit, shit! You immediately spring up and hastily fold your blankets and organize your desk, throwing away stray food wrappers and plastic cups. You open your blinds to let some air in, and the bright sunlight makes your head throb even more. 

On your way to the door, you spot yourself in the mirror. There’s no other word for it—you look like utter shit. Your eyebags are dark and prominent, your hair disheveled from tossing and turning in your sleep. You look horrendous, but Jaehyun is persistently knocking on your door, so you have no choice but to fix yourself up as fast as you can. You splash water on your face and smoothen down your hair and open the door—then there’s Jaehyun in all his glory. Your heart clenches seeing him; he looks as handsome as always, his bangs fluffy and soft and his letterman jacket fashionably oversized. He looks nothing like you in your ratty T-shirt with coffee stains and pajama shorts. His hand is halfway raised, positioned to knock at your door (he could and would probably do it all day if he had to). Upon seeing you, he blurts out: “Did I do something?”

Instead of answering him, you open your door wider as an invitation, and Jaehyun takes the hint, stepping into your dorm. Once the door is shut, Jaehyun peers at your messy room and remarks, “Wow. When was the last time you cleaned up? You’re usually not like this.”

You know he didn’t mean it like that, but his comment stings at you all the same. “Sorry, Jaehyun,” you snap, “not everyone can be at 200% energy all the time like you.” At his hurt expression, you backtrack. “Sorry, that was really rude of me.”

“It-It’s fine,” Jaehyun replies confusedly. Then he looks straight at you, eyes pleading. He’s picking at the stray thread hanging from his jacket, a habit you’ve come to known is something he does when he’s nervous. “You know what, I thought about it. For days, really, if I did anything that would make you mad and ignore me. But I couldn’t come up with anything at all. I was really worried when you didn’t reply to me for days on end, especially when we talk everyday. So if I did something, can—can you just tell me? I just want us to be okay.”

Your throat closes up and your heart pounds even faster, making you feel dizzy. You have no idea how to answer him, when all he’s ever seen of you is the perfect student who does everything right, who’s smart and good at what they do without any flaws or exceptions. How would he react if he saw you for who you really were?

The words can’t form in your mouth, and out of frustration at yourself, you tear up. Jaehyun notices this, eyes widening in worry, “(y/n), baby, no, no,” and pulls you into his arms. Almost instantly, the tears cascade down your face and sobs wrack your body. You feel pathetic crying in your best friend’s arms, but Jaehyun just soothes a hand up and down your back as you break down. His other arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and it feels like your anchor when you’re drowning in all your troubles. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says in a hushed tone, “let it all out.” You grip his jacket even tighter as you bury your face in his chest. 

When was the last time you’ve ever been hugged like this? The last time you’ve ever been truly vulnerable to anyone without that mask of perfection you often don? The last time you felt safe just being yourself? You have no idea. All you know that is in the circle of Jaehyun’s arms, you want to be small and imperfect and yourself just this once.

After your cries die down, Jaehyun clears his throat. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know what it is I did, but I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s not you, Jaehyun,” your voice is muffled by both your sniffles and Jaehyun’s chest. You don’t want Jaehyun to get the wrong idea that he’s hurt you in some way because of how broken he sounds thinking he’s done something to make you sad. “It’s just. Me.”

“You? What do you mean?” Jaehyun leads you into your room from the doorway. He’s holding your hand and doesn’t let go even when you both settle at the edge of your bed. His palm is warm and his grip loose enough in case you want to let go; you don’t. While you muster up the courage to speak, your best friend just sits there, waiting patiently. “It’s okay, whatever you say, I’m not going anywhere.” You don’t know that for sure, but him saying that makes you want to be truthful just this once, damn the consequences.

You take a deep breath, focusing on your intertwined fingers. You’re too scared to look at his face because you don’t want to see his reaction. “Jaehyun, what kind of person do you think people see me as?”

“Well…” He takes a moment to think about it. “Someone smart, talented, and who gets stuff done?”

In turn, you let out an resigned exhale. “Well, that’s the image I project. Of someone who’s perfect… someone who does things effortlessly. People think it comes easy to me. But it doesn’t. When people tell me that I didn’t need much effort to get to where I am now, I feel undermined. When I express I’m having a hard time, people brush it off and think I’m just overreacting. Because they think I’m perfect all the time. But honestly…? That’s the farthest thing from the truth."

Glancing up from your hands, you scan your room—your desk is a mess of papers and assignments that you have yet to get to. You can’t tell when the last time you spent time being actually productive when what you’ve been is fatigued out of your mind. When you try to sit at your desk and work, all you feel is difficulty concentrating and processing work and readings. Sleep has also proven to be elusive—no matter how long you lie in bed, you never feel well-rested. Simple actions and decisions require so much energy from you that you undeniably lack. You also constantly compare yourself to others, whom things like these come natural to them. But you’ve kept these feelings of yours secret for a long time—you’re utterly terrified that you’d be undermined for being useless and overly sensitive.   

“(Y/n)?” Jaehyun squeezes your hand, and you turn to meet his eyes. His eyes are sincere and kind. “I-I know I may not be the most empathic person, but I promise I’ll hear you out without judging you. I want to be here for you… and I hope you’ll let me. Please?” 

At this, you spill everything you’ve been feeling the past weeks—months, even—to Jaehyun. You stumble over your words and your breath gets caught in your throat, but he’s there to pat your back and to encourage you to keep going. Without you knowing, tears make their way down your face once again, and Jaehyun uses his other hand to gently brush them away. “It just gets so hard that I want to just. Give everything up. I don’t know what the use of trying so hard is when I see how other people don’t need this much effort to do even the most basic of tasks. It’s just so… unfair.”

When you’re finished with your rant, you don’t know what to expect from Jaehyun—but you’re stunned to see him crying. He’s sniffling and wiping at his eyes furiously. “Why…” You have no idea what he’s about to say, but you brace yourself for the worst. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” he whispers brokenly. “I didn’t know you were having such a difficult time. I feel like such a shitty friend for not even noticing. I’m sorry, (y/n).” Jaehyun’s eyes fill with tears and he starts “I… I thought we were best friends.” The best friends tell each other everything goes unsaid, but you know exactly what he meant.

“I…” You feel awful now for making Jaehyun cry. “You’re just. You just naturally have all this limitless energy. You’re…” Normal. Not like me. “I don’t know how if you were going to take me seriously if I told you what I was going through… There were times I’d see you, and I’d be so disappointed in myself for not being like you. And I was so scared that if I did tell you, I’d be letting you down.”

Jaehyun’s expression grows more miserable at this. “I-I’m sorry, (y/n), I never meant to make you feel unheard. And I never meant for it to feel like you couldn’t tell me about these things.” 

“It-It’s not your fault, Jaehyun,” you protest, but he shakes his head, obviously disappointed in himself.

“No, (y/n), I’m supposed to be your best friend. How stupid can I be if I can’t notice when you’re having a hard time? I didn’t even stop to ask how you’ve been doing because you seemed to be doing fine. But I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have taken things at face value. I’m such an idiot,” Jaehyun berates himself. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

At his sincere apology, you can’t help but admit it to yourself—you desperately needed Jaehyun’s support as your best friend, but you were too scared to ask for it. And honestly? You felt immensely lonely without his words and presence to comfort you. 

“(Y/n), I hope you know that I see how hard you work. I know your sleepless nights and how much effort you put into every single thing you do. Despite everything you’re going through, you’re always trying to be better than the person you were yesterday, and it’s something I truly admire about you. But I hope you know it’s okay to be imperfect and flawed and to not be okay. I want to be here on your good and bad days. I just wish I could’ve been more vocal about this earlier… I’ve really taken you for granted, huh?” Jaehyun sighs wetly, taking your hand in both of his. He’s still crying; you both are, actually. What a silly pair the two of you make. 

“Thank you for trusting me and sharing all of this. It literally means the world to me,” Jaehyun rambles. “I promise I’ll be a better friend to you, someone you feel safe opening up to about anything, whether that be your achievements or your struggles. And (y/n), if it’s not too much to ask… Could I ask you to be more honest with me in the future?” He stares at you imploringly. “I don’t want you to think you have to go through all of this alone. I want to be here for you the same way you’ve always been there for me… Okay?”

“....Okay. Okay, I’ll try,” you respond softly. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I… I’ve never told anyone about this before. But thank you so much for just listening, and not judging, and accepting me for me…” While you appreciate Jaehyun’s presence at this moment, a new wave of fatigue washes over you with all this emotional vulnerability and talking. “Jaehyun… I’m still feeling really tired, so I might go back to sleep. Sorry, I know you came all the way here to see me, but here I am being shit company,” you apologize regretfully.

“Oh! That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jaehyun stands up from your bed to leave. When your fingers slip from each other, you feel an acute loss of warmth—both in your hands and in your heart. He makes his way to the door, slipping on his shoes, and your heart sinks. There’s something you badly want to ask of Jaehyun, but you’re too much of a coward to tell him what you truly want. You don’t want to be on your own right now, but you’d probably be asking too much of him. Accepting your fate, you settle in bed, attempting to take a nap so restless you’re sure will be of no help to your exhaustion.

However, Jaehyun himself stops in the doorway. He turns back around, a distraught look on his face. “(Y/n)... I don’t want to assume, but are you sure you want to be alone right now?” he begins. “I mean, we just had this really heavy talk. Can… Can I keep you company? I promise I’m great at cuddles—that’s what all my other friends say anyway when I annoy them with my hugs.”

When you nod, that’s all it takes for Jaehyun to shuck off his shoes, strip his jacket, and climb into bed with you. With your ear against his steady heartbeat and his comforting arm around you, you’re asleep in no time. It’s the best you’ve ever slept in months.

[writing-for-marvel]

Withdrawal

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 2 | Series Masterlist | PART 4 > >

Summary: You wait for Bucky to call.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the AU, some angst and self doubt, references to sex, references to Bucky having a traumatic past

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: Will he call? Won’t he call? Let’s find out! Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

Bucky stares down at his phone and sighs.

He wants to call you, genuinely, so why is dialling your number so difficult?

Perhaps it’s too soon, is what he tells himself. It hasn’t even been a full day since the end of your date, calling now probably makes him look desperate.

Should he message you? Tell you that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you all day? Ugh, no… that seems extremely forward for someone he’s only been on a single date with, regardless of if it’s the truth.

There’s never been anyone whom he’s connected with enough to warrant a second date, let alone have him promising to call. He’s completely out of his depth, drowning in a sea of anxiety and no one has taught him how to swim.

Bucky knows he’s overthinking, but you make it hard to think clearly. You have his brain short circuiting, reforming synapses so that all his thoughts are rerouted to the same thing: you.

Turning his phone off, he sets it down beside him. Just because he isn’t calling straight away, doesn’t mean he won’t at all. It’s probably better to wait and not seem super eager.

Or is that counterintuitive? If you enjoy someone’s company, should you let them know so you can see them again as soon as possible?

Fuck, why is this such a daunting task? He’s never had an issue with talking or flirting with anyone before, it seems to come naturally to him. And yet the thought that he’ll say the wrong thing, and fuck up whatever it is between the two of you is making his stomach churn with prickling nerves he’s never experienced before.

Perhaps he’ll find the courage to call tomorrow.

* * *

“You seem distracted, what’s on your mind?” The familiar voice from the driver's seat of the ambulance pulls Bucky from his daydream.

You, is what Bucky thinks. You are constantly on his mind. Him and his best friend Steve are half an hour into their shift and you have not left the forefront of his mind in that entire time.

It’s like he’s in a trance.

“There’s this girl from the hospital…” Bucky trails off, unsure how to articulate exactly how you’ve bewitched him since meeting not even a week ago.

The night before last wasn’t just another hookup. At least, not to him.

“I’m gonna need a little more information than that Buck, there’s been quite a few girls of yours, especially from the hospital.” Steve laughs, but Bucky’s chest tightens at the insinuation that you’re just another fling, even though Steve doesn’t know any better.

“Two nights ago we went on a date, it ended up back at her place.” This is probably not news to Steve - he’s heard many stories about Bucky’s one night stands which would have started exactly like this. But there is one huge difference this time around. “And then I told her I’d call.”

“You’re thinking about a second date with her? She must be something special.” Bucky chuckles under his breath. Yeah, you really are something special. So fucking special.

“She’s beautiful, intelligent, funny, witty. When she was treating that little girl from the train derailment she was so good with her, kind and patient. I don’t know how to describe it, we just click. I don’t think I’ve ever allowed myself to feel more than physical attraction for someone but with her it just happens, I can’t stop myself.”

He doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but Bucky’s already addicted to you. He’s only had one fix, but he’s already showing symptoms of withdrawal. Every second apart feels like an hour, craving your company and the rapture firing in every neuron of his body when you’re in his presence.

“Look at you actually falling for someone.” Steve teases, without even knowing the full extent of how enthralled Bucky is with you. “So when are you seeing her again?”

Silence fills the front seat of the ambulance when Bucky can’t answer the question.

“Bucky, you have to see her again! Listen to how you’re talking about her, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you actually speak about wanting to see someone again. You need to call her.” Steve stops at a red light and looks over to Bucky in the passenger seat. His best friend knows him better than perhaps he knows himself but doesn’t have the same obstacle with letting people in as Bucky does.

“That’s easier said than done.” Bucky can’t mask the dejected tone in his voice, and Steve recognises the crestfallen hang of his head, knowing exactly what he means without voicing it aloud.

“I know you've been through a lot in your life Buck, you’ve built walls up to prevent any more heartbreak…” Steve starts, but Bucky doesn’t need yet another reminder of his tragic backstory.

“Alright Mr I minored in psychology, I get your point. I’m damaged goods and don’t let people get close to me.”

“It’s just a second date, Buck, you aren’t asking for her hand in marriage. Just see where it goes.” Steve makes it sound so easy. Most people wouldn’t get so stressed about something they would consider as minor as a second date, yet Bucky feels like he’s about to expose the most intimate parts of his soul to someone for the first time.

“But I don’t want to hurt her. I know nothing about dating or being in a relationship.” Bucky pauses - the fact that he’s even considering something as substantial as a relationship with you punches him in the gut. He’s never wanted that with someone before. “And I don’t want to get hurt myself.” Because all Bucky has known is relationships breaking down. To him romantic relationships are synonymous with pain and he’s had enough of that for a lifetime.

“You’ll never know if you never try. I know you think letting someone in will lead to heartbreak, but what if it’s the opposite? What if by letting this person into your heart you finally find love and contentment?” Bucky has never allowed himself to imagine a life where that is a possibility - opening himself up to that prospect sounds like a recipe for more suffering. Besides, he’s been damaged goods for a long time, he’s sure there’s no one who would want to put up with him anyway.

“You really are a hopeless romantic.” Bucky comments, trying to avoid the questions Steve is raising, and divert the topic of their conversation.

“I want you to be happy, Buck. You’ve never afforded yourself that courtesy.”

Though his experience screams at him to run in the opposite direction, that this would be a horrible decision leading to further pain, Bucky finds it hard to believe someone as sweet and good-natured as yourself would ever hurt him intentionally. Even if there is only a slim chance that he doesn’t completely fuck this up, given Bucky cannot stop thinking about you, he supposes it’s worth a shot calling you.

“Well, maybe it’s finally time I do.” Bucky mutters under his breath.

* * *

You’ve been checking your phone periodically throughout the day to se if you have any new notifications from Bucky, but each time your phone lights up, a new wave of disappointment floods your chest.

You wonder if the notion of actually calling you, or simply messaging, has even crossed Bucky’s mind once since he left your place about 36 hours ago, or if he already knew it was an empty promise at the time he made it.

“Heard anything yet?” Wanda asks hopefully, but you shake your head in response. The first thing Wanda asked during your next shift together was how your date went with Bucky - between treating patients you described the picnic Bucky set up on the riverbank and (in slightly less detail) the euphoric night you shared when you made it back to your place.

“I’m stupid for actually believing he’s going to call, aren’t I?”

“…No.” Wanda offers after a brief hesitation which tells you more than the single word does. Sensing your regret in asking, she continues on. “Sweetie, only you know the connection you share, I can’t speak to that. If you feel like there’s something special there and he promised to call, then you have every right to believe him.”

Perhaps you’re being foolish, you should know better than to hang your hopes on a man who is notorious for being a fuckboy, but you really thought Bucky was being genuine when he promised to contact you. That the blissful night you shared, and the waves of ecstasy which melded into a flood of pure pleasure, meant more than just a one night stand.

Or at least it did to you.

“Just because he’s never pursued more than a first date with other people in this hospital doesn’t mean he isn’t now, or isn’t with you. Sometimes it just takes the right person, that could be you.” You take some comfort in the sincerity of her tone, but the voice in the back of your mind reminds you of what Wanda alerted you to prior to your date: no one gets a second date with Bucky Barnes.

“You’ve changed from giving me no hope to giving me false hope, Wan.” You joke, trying to brush off the conversation and not reveal just how heartbroken you’ll be if Bucky ghosts you, even with Wanda warning about his ways.

Internally you remind yourself that it’s only been a day and a half and to not be too mad at him, yet. Perhaps he intends to call, but hasn’t gotten around to it, though you’re pretty sure you’re only telling yourself that to stop the perpetual ache in your chest rather than truly believing it.

“He promised he would call, that’s not false hope.” Wanda advises, shooting you a look of encouragement as you both complete paperwork for your respective patients.

At that moment, the doors to the ER swing open and none other than the paramedic you were just speaking about walks in wheeling a patient.

You hate how good he looks, long chestnut hair framing his face and those dazzling blue eyes you’ve dreamed about shine from all the way across the room. He’s unfairly attractive, and he walks into a room like he knows it too.

Him and his partner consult the head nurse of the ER, who, after examining her clipboard for a moment, points towards your direction, making your stomach flip.

Steel blue eyes meet yours and for a moment your entire world stands still. The sounds of the busy ER fade away and even the presence of Wanda beside you dissolves into non-existence when his eyes find you and a smile overtakes his features. That damn cheeky smile which makes your knees weak.

He truly is infuriatingly beautiful.

“Hey.” Is all you can think to say as they approach, a lump in your throat forming which would prevent you from voicing any more words if your brain could think of any other than how strapping and handsome he looks in his uniform.

“Hi.” Bucky responds softly with a dreamy smile, eyes lingering on yours for a long beat before turning away. How could someone who looks at you with such warmth not want to see you again?

You shake the thought from your mind as your focus on the patient, a young man with scared brown eyes. You can’t afford to be distracted right now, even if you desperately want to look back at him and revel in the fondness brimming in his eyes which was so apparent during your date.

After Bucky’s equally tall, broad and handsome paramedic partner gets you up to speed on the patient's history, you get to work on taking his vitals.

“Rogers, Barnes, give us some space to work, please.” Dr Strange requests and without the chance to say another word to each other, both paramedics disappear out the corner of your periphery.

What you don’t notice is Bucky’s soft gaze on you through the glass walls of the patient room as you start your work up, believing that he had simply got back in his ambulance and out into the field.

“That’s her?” Steve asks from beside Bucky. He knows full well it must be you, he’s never seen his best friend look so enamoured with a girl, nor lost for words as when he set eyes on you, but he wants Bucky to admit it aloud.

“Yep, that’s her.” Bucky says with a pride that if Steve didn’t know any better, would suggest that her meant his girl. Bucky answers without taking his eyes off you, the corners of mouth tugging into a smile. His best friend has it bad, and he doesn’t even realise.

Steve suspects if he doesn’t remind Bucky they have a shift to get back to, he’d happily watch you work for the rest of the day.

He allows Bucky a couple more minutes of that luxury before heading back to the ambulance, knowing his best friend well enough to realise before either Bucky or yourself do, just how significant Bucky’s feelings for you are.

* * *

Bucky steps out of the shower, the warm water having rinsed the hard days work off himself.

He knows he needs to call you. Waiting any longer, especially after seeing you today, even if it were only for a brief moment, would surely only indicate disinterest. That’s so far from how he feels about you, so he decides needs to take matters into his own hands and fulfil the promise he made two nights ago.

A fresh swarm of butterflies fills his stomach. He’s actually going to do this.

He just hopes you’re after more than just another hookup. Bucky’s used to being the one only interested in sex, but if the roles are reversed this time, it’ll be his exposed heart being ripped from his chest.

No, he can’t think like that. He’s finally giving himself a chance at happiness.

Bucky reminds himself that you asked him to promise to call after your date. It’s not just him that wants this, you want him to call.

With that thought, he pulls out his phone and quickly presses on your contact, so he doesn’t chicken out, and with a shaky hand holds his phone to his ear. Bucky’s heart beats in his throat as the first ring sounds, and then skips a beat altogether when the click of you answering fills his ears.

“Bucky, you called.” He can hear the smile in your voice through the line, but what makes his heart clench is the trace of surprise he can perceive, as if you truly hadn’t expected him to call.

“I did promise to.” He reminds you, but it doesn’t entirely eliminate the bitter shame bubbling in the pit of his stomach that even though he did in fact promise, you didn’t fully believe him.

“I’m happy you did. I had a really great time the other night.”

“So did I.” Those three simple words don’t sum up just how much Bucky wholeheartedly enjoyed every second he spent with you, regardless of if that were naked in your bed or getting to know you on a picnic blanket as the sun set across the horizon, but in his anxious state he can’t find words more poetic to express it. “And I’d love to do it again if you’re up for it.”

“Hmm, I’m gonna have to think about it.” He can tell by the light tone of your voice you’re joking, but he supposes he deserves waiting for an answer considering he made you wait for his call. “Of course I’d love to go on a second date with you James.”

The combination of your words and the fact that you punctuated the sentence with his true first name sends Bucky straight to heaven. Everything about you makes him completely weak in a way he has never experienced before. All of those walls Steve seems to think Bucky has built around himself don’t appear to exist with you, instead, you’ve come into his life as easily as walking through a front door with a welcome mat out front.

“I guess I’m going to have to outdo a picnic at sunset then.” He chuckles to himself, knowing that he’s never had this problem before, but realising it’s a good problem to have.

You continue to talk well into the night, forgetting what time it is, and that you both have early shifts in the morning. None of that matters when you’re so caught up in each other.

Bucky simply enjoys the sound of your voice, and how it soothes the remaining anxiety which was swirling in his chest before calling you. He certainly isn’t hanging up first, not when talking with you has been the best part of his day.

He’s chasing happiness. And he might just find it with you.

Part 4 > >

Be added to the series taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @roschele @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @fallenlilangel99 @princezzjasmine @mdrovert @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @netflixxgoddess @pop-rocks-818 @dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @marvelhoeland @thesadcatto-queen @kayden666 @amiimar @razor-blayde @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @Vickie5446 @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @moonymagician @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet @wishingwell-2 @unaxv @aya-fay

[fool-inthe-rain]

No Longer Making Time

Sirius Black x Potter!Reader

wc: 3529

Warnings: Angst, semi-ambiguous ending that leaves room for hope???? injury, blood, use of female pronouns, use of Y/N, Sirius being a dick and not realizing his mistake until it’s too late, brief talk of an ED but it's nothing overly graphic, Marlene is the villain so sorry, please please let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Masterlist

At this point, she couldn’t remember how long she had been doubled over the toilet, but if her delusion was right, then she had been there forever. This wasn’t the first time the young witch of only seventeen had cried so hard she had made herself sick. And it wasn’t the first time Lily Evans had held her hair and rubbed her back in small circles and talked her through her grief. This time, however, was the first time Lily was so worried about her best friend that she left her alone in the bathroom so she could find her twin brother. 

James followed Lily, wondering what had her in such a rush, and when they stopped in front of the girls' bathroom at the base of the Gryffindor Common Room steps he was even more confused.

“Evans, why in Godric’s name have you taken me to the girls' bathroom? If you think I’m going in there you’re sorely mistaken.” He jests at her, thinking the situation was lighter than it actually was. 

“It’s your sister you git. Why else would I have dragged you through the halls in such a hurry?” Lily crossed her arms across her chest and huffed out in annoyance at how long she had left her friend alone. 

“My sister? What’s wrong with my sister?” James was nervous now, she was the one person he never had to worry about, as in, there was nothing to worry about. 

“She’s in the second stall to the left, just talk to her, please. I'm really worried about her,” Lily pleaded with the boy, “I’ll stay out here and make sure nobody else comes in.” She knew the assurance made him feel better about going in there, but James was still scared to see what he would be walking into. 

James swung the door open, looking back at Lily whose eyebrows were drawn together as she bit her nails in an almost neurotic way. 

As soon as he heard the door shut he made a path straight to the second stall on the left, and before he could knock and call her name, the stall door quickly opened revealing his twin with a bright red tear-stained face and puffy cracked lips. 

After the few seconds it took her brain to recognize James, she fell into him, her arms wrapping around her brother.

“Okay, it’s okay.” He ran his hand rapidly up and down her back, unsure of what to do or say because he had never had to console her like this. 

She was the strong one, the one who gave advice and smiled all day long. He was supposed to be crying to her about how Lily didn’t love him or about whatever stupid prank Sirius had left him out of. Never once had she fallen into him, never once had he seen her this upset, and never once had his sister ever cried over a boy. Ever. 

“What’s happened? Huh? Who do I have to beat up?” He chided, trying to get her tears to stop so she would talk to him. 

When his admittedly lame attempt at a joke failed, he became ten times more concerned with her current state. He moved his hands from her back to her shoulders and peeled her off of him so he could see her face.

“You’re scaring me y/n/n, tell me what happened, tell me how to fix this.” 

“You have to promise me you won't yell, or beat anyone up.” She finally choked out through her tear-blocked throat.

“I can’t promise that, you’re my sister, if someone hurts you they’re gonna know about it.” He dropped his hands from her shoulders, bringing them to cross along his chest.

She looked up at him, her eyelashes wet and clumped together from the tears. 

“James please just promise me you won’t seriously injure or traumatize anyone.” 

And although he knew that was another promise he couldn’t make he decided to go along with it so she would tell him what was wrong.

“Okay, I promise not to seriously injure or traumatize anyone. Now, tell me what happened so we can get you to stop feeling so shitty.”

“Marlene.” Was all she said.

“McKinnon?” Was what he answered with. “What about her?”

“She has seen fit to make my life a living hell,” She bit her lip and looked to the floor before speaking again, “And there’s something else too.”

He raised his eyebrows, a silent indication telling her to go on.

“I’ve been in love with Sirius for six years but he’s dating Marlene and because they’re together whenever she says or does something to me he pretends that he’s never met me and that we haven’t lived in the same house for two years.” She spewed out the words in record time, but James got every word she said. To say he was pissed was an understatement.

“What the fuck is his problem? And what do you mean when she does something to you? Has she hurt you?” His voice got so loud Lily, and Remus, who had joined her outside the door, could both hear him. 

She nodded, and his heart broke. How did he not notice this? He prided himself on how observant he was, but he failed to recognize what was going on with the most important person in his life.

“Tell me what she’s done,” he demanded, his tone scary and low. She had only seen him like this once when a nasty sixth-year Slytherin found out about Remus’s condition and tormented him for it.

She knew better than to try and get out of this conversation so she told him. She told him every jinx, charm, and hex Marlene had ever cast upon her, and while none had resulted in serious injury she was not void of bruises, cuts, and sprained limbs as a result of Marlene’s violence. 

“I-I’m just sad. I'm sad that Sirius stands by and acts like I'm nothing, acts like I’m not one of his best friends. He’s never been around for Marlene’s wand work, but the horrible words she spits at me, he has bore witness to that more times than I’d like to admit.” She sighed, happy to have revealed the situation to her brother, but also in anguish after hearing the words come from her mouth. 

“I swear to Godric I will kill them both. How could he do this? We’ve been best friends since first year! Not only is he betraying your trust but he’s betraying mine and severing our friendship at the same time.” He was pulling at his hair, trying to make sense of the situation, trying to understand how someone he loved so much and considered family could stand by and let someone be so cruel to his sister. 

“James, you have to promise me you won't do anything. Please if she finds out I told you, or if she finds out I like Sirius the situation will only escalate.”

“How do you expect me to sit back and act like nothing's wrong? Am I supposed to go out and act all buddy-buddy with him, knowing what I know now?” He stopped pacing, settling right in front of her. 

“No. I’m not asking you to do that at all. I’m just asking you to not draw attention to this with him or anyone that isn’t Lily unless I ask you to. Unless things get worse.”

“Fine, but I’m not happy about it. And I will be watching you much closer. I don’t need Marlene catching you alone in the hallway.”

“I can agree with that. And thank you. Thank you for caring and listening and helping. Seriously, I don't know what I would do if you weren’t my brother.”

James looked her over and pursed his lips. “Wash your face and calm down for a few more minutes, I’ll be just outside with Lily.” 

And he walked out leaving her to try and digest what had just happened, what she had just admitted to. Not only was one of her best friends acting like he never met her, but she was letting it happen. Any other person and she would’ve stuck up for herself a long time ago, but the confusion she had from Sirius’s actions left her too overwhelmed to even think about fighting back. So she let it happen, and that was eating her alive, the fact that a singular boy could make her feel this weak. 

After some time to herself, she exited the bathroom and to her surprise, three pairs of eyes were looking right at her. She had expected James and Lily to be there, but Remus, while not unwelcome, was definitely a surprise.

“I’m assuming you’ve both filled him in.” She half-heartedly threw her hand in Remus’s direction.

“I hope that’s ok.” Lily bit her lip nervously waiting to see how her best friend would react.

“It’s fine. Not like he’s been compliant in any of Sirius and Marlene's actions.” A sigh passed her lips as she walked through the group, flopping onto an empty sofa in the corner of the common room. 

“I knew he was an arse y/n, but I never thought he would stand by and let someone be so cruel to you. Especially you.” Remus said, with a sad expression on his face as he sat next to her on the couch.

“What do you mean, especially me?” She shifted her body so it was facing the boy whose eyes had gone wide, finally realizing what he meant to say in his head, he actually said out loud. 

“Oh good job Remus,” James huffed out, “now you’ve done it.”

“Can someone please tell me what he means?” She looked rapidly back and forth between her three friends, waiting for someone to pluck up the courage to tell her.

Of course, it was her brother that ended up spilling the secret. 

“Sirius told us last year that he had a crush on you.” 

“What?” Tears sprang to her eyes, this made everything worse. “But he’s with Marlene now, you have to be lying.”

“Listen,” Remus said, “We all thought it was strange too, but when we asked him about it he refused to say another word about you or how he felt about you. I’d never seen him clam up like he did when we asked.” 

Just as she was about to speak, the black-haired beauty strutted through the common room door, a wide smirk plastered on his face and a strong arm wrapped around Marlene's waist. The group snapped their heads up to look in his direction, and as soon as Sirius made eye contact with them and started to make his way over y/n got up and walked as fast to her room as humanly possible, James following closely behind while Lily and Remus stayed back.

“What’s up with the wonder twins?” Sirius laughed, though it quickly died down when he saw the sour looks on Lily and Remus's faces. 

“Hopefully she’s going to throw up her lunch. She could stand to lose a few pounds.” Marlene said with a nasty snigger in her tone. 

Sirius let his grip from her waist go at the comment, but he said nothing to protest the words.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Lily yelled as she stood from her spot on the couch.

“Oh please Evans you know how insecure she is, I’m just trying to be honest.” Marlene looked at Sirius waiting for him to back her up, but he kept his eyes down and stayed quiet.

Just as Lily tried to go for Marlene, Remus grabbed her arm and started pulling her away.

“Shut your dog up Sirius before I do it for you!” Lily spat from behind Remus’s shoulder as he continued to push her up the dorm stairs. 

As the two traveled out of sight, Marlene took a seat on the couch, pulling Sirius down with her. They were both silent, but the thoughts in his head were deafening. He never meant for it to go this far. He got with Marlene as a way to make y/n jealous, but after her cold shoulders and silent treatments, he realized he was too far gone in this horrible situation so he decided to sit by and let it resolve itself. Which was the worst thing he could’ve ever done. 

A week later and none of the Marauders, Lily, or y/n would even look in Sirius’s direction. They were freezing him out until he came to his senses, even though it seemed he wouldn’t any time soon. 

It was one of those rare moments walking back to the common room from class where she found herself alone. Her few friends that were in her potions class all went to the library while she opted for a nap. Mistake number one. She decided to take a different route than normal to get back to the common room that day. Mistake number two. Mistake number three was freezing up instead of turning the other way when she saw Marlene McKinnon waltzing down the hallway. 

“Oh look who we have here!” Marlene was still a few feet away but that sickly sweet voice rushed up to greet her ears. 

Y/n looked around hoping they weren’t alone, but of course they were. Just her luck.

“What do you want Marlene?” 

“Oh well actually I want absolutely nothing to do with you, but I heard a rumor that you want everything to do with my boyfriend.” 

“What on Earth are you talking about?” She tried to hide the worry in her voice, but she couldn’t cover it as well as she hoped.

“Oh, don’t play coy. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She swore Marlene’s eyes got three shades darker. “Lucky for you I learned a new spell today, and the teacher told me to practice so that is exactly what I intend to do. Diffindo!” 

Marlene drew her wand before y/n could duck and two sharp sparks flew from the wand. One smaller spark sliced her cheek and the second larger one opened a large gash across her stomach, ripping through her clothing. Y/n toppled both from the searing pain of the fresh cuts, and also from the impact of the spell.

“Stay away from my boyfriend. Stay away from me. Next time I won’t just scar that ugly face.” Marlene slid her wand back into her robes and walked off as if she didn’t just do what she did.

After Marlene’s footsteps could no longer be heard down the hall, she slid back against the wall. She peeled her arm from around her torso trying to be brave enough to open her eyes which had been squeezed shut from pain. 

Blood seeped into her robes and uniform from the deep slice on her stomach, and more of the red liquid dripped down her mouth and jaw from the wound on her cheek. Looking down at her torso all she could get out was a loud, pained cry. Why? Why did it go this far? Why did Marlene hate her enough to scar her face and bloody her body?

The blood would not stop pouring from her stomach. She was terrified. She was getting dizzy from the sight of her blood, and from the rapid loss of it. 

A stray Gryffindor walking down the dim corridor found her first. She didn’t know her name, but she was thankful someone was there to help.

“You stay right here. I’m going to get your brother. You’re gonna be okay.” The words were jumbled in her foggy brain, but she got the jist of what the kind girl was saying. 

By the time James got there, she must have been passed out because the next thing she knew her dry eyes were blinking away the harsh light of the hospital wing. 

“Oh good darling, you’re awake.” Madame Pomfrey walked up alongside the bed she was laying on. She began prodding at the cut on her face before moving down to her stomach. Y/n did not respond to the older woman who was taking care of her. She instead stared at the ceiling. Trying and failing to put the pieces of what happened together in her head. 

“Where’s James?” She finally spoke after many minutes of silence.

“Right outside love, let me go get him.”After Madame Pomfrey left the curtained area, the girl picked her head up to assess the damage. She couldn’t even sit up before pain shot through her entire body. A stray tear slid down her face as she slowly laid back down, opting to leave the characteristics of her wounds up for interpretation. The curtains flew open and once again three pairs of eyes were looking at her. James, Remus, and Lily. Thank Godric they were here. 

“How bad is it?” She asked the group, mostly aiming the question at her twin.

“It was bad, but you know Poppy, she can fix anything.” James sat in the chair next to her, running his thumb along the fresh scar that decorated her face.

“She fixed your cheek easily. The scar looks badass.” Lily added. 

“What about my stomach?” 

“That one was trickier, it was so deep and you lost so much blood. Pomfrey said it may take a few more hours to fully heal, but there’s going to be a scar.” James sighed. 

Silence made the air thick, the three friends looked at each other from their respective chairs, none of them expecting the next question that would come from the girl on the bed.

“Does Sirius know what happened?”

Remus drew in a sharp breath, the boy in question had been sitting outside the hospital wing the entire time. This was his fault and he knew it. He was a wreck, but he still couldn’t bring himself to face her.

“He does. It was nasty, the fight he and Marlene had. She's been in Dumbledore's office since their blowout. He’s trying to decide what to do with her.” Remus’s soft voice carried through her brain.

“Did they break up?”

“Yes”“Does he finally realize what he did?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

A beat of silence. Two beats…

“He’s outside,” James spoke.

“I want to see him.” She sat up with help from Lily who had a concerned look on her face at the decision her best friend just made.

James knew better than to question his sister, however, so he ushered the other two out of the room with him and went to get Sirius. They were still wary of the boy, but he poured his heart out to them, taking the blame for not stepping up, and admitting his wrongdoings. The trio knew it would take time, but they were willing to forgive him if she was.

As the nervous boy made his way into the room he could see her from the small opening in the curtains. Pushing them open his eyes were immediately drawn to the angry red scar on her face. He burst into tears immediately. 

“Sirius, come here, please.” She held her arms out inviting him in. 

“I'm so sorry,” He cried into her chest as she held him, “I was stupid, I was an absolute idiot. I never ever knew she would go this far. I never want to see you in pain again, and to know I helped cause it is eating me alive.” His body shook as he took short breaths trying to apologize but not being able to keep up with all the thoughts flooding his brain.

“Sirius, I know that wasn’t you. I don’t know who that was, but it certainly wasn’t my Sirius.” Tears escaped her eyes at the sounds of his cries and the meaning behind his words.

He apologized what felt like a million more times until his cries turned into soft breaths. She rubbed his back and stroked his hair, knowing that this was her Sirius. This was no longer a boy possessed by McKinnon or his own delusions. This was the gentle, kind, sometimes oblivious boy who she had loved for six years.

“I can’t promise that things will go back to normal immediately, but I forgive you. I know that in the end, her actions and her choices were her own. I know that you love me, and I know that you will do everything you can to show me that.” She removed her hands from his body.

Sirius sat up, he didn’t understand how someone could be so forgiving. So wonderful. 

“I love you so much. I love your beautiful face. I love your kind heart. Why are you so willing to let me back into your life?”

“Because Sirius, I have never and will never see a future where I don’t end up with you. You’re a good person who got caught up with someone venomous. I don’t love you any less for that.”

He decided from that moment on to win back every ounce of her trust. No matter how long it takes. 

[mapileonxputellas]

Only you (Alexia Putellas x Reader Part 2)

Ok so I originally wasn't going to do a part 2 but you persuaded me. Part one can be found here 2.2k words x

Thank you mi hermosa, I don’t know if you’ve read my other messages but I love you. I’ll fix this x

Of course you’d read the continuous messages she’d sent you over the week. You don’t know how she finally realised the issue, whether she was told or worked it our herself but it was clear she knew. Every morning you would wake up to a little message from her and every night she wished you goodnight. The days were varied, some had frequent messages others had only a few but there were always some.

You never replied. That single message after the match the only one you sent that week. You couldn’t talk to her and pretend like the only thing you were thinking about wasn’t Sofia. How much better suited they were. How you would never be enough for Alexia.

You were trying to go to sleep the night of the final, but just like always you hated sleeping alone. Alexia’s presence in your bed had almost been a constant at one point and now you struggled to fall asleep in the cold bed, her arm not strung across your waist and her light breathing not drowning out the silence around you. You tried to occupy your mind but it always went back to her. She’d probably be partying with her team, you knew they were scheduled to fly back immediately after the final and any trophy always called for a celebration.

A bang at the door startled you, thinking it was some kind of prankster you hoped they would knock once and then leave but when it happened again, and again, and again you realised they weren’t about to go away.

You didn’t live in a rough area but it also wasn’t filled with the rich and famous. This wasn’t the first time you would have dealt with young groups trying to prank you, knowing that the only way to get rid of them was to answer the door. Your stern face didn’t exactly match the fluffy pink pyjamas you had worn to bed but that didn’t even enter your mind.

Top actors could only dream of replicating the surprise yet horror on your face as you opened the door ready to scream at whoever was there but instead you were met by the one woman who had been on your mind all night. Stood there alone, tear marks evident down her face as she almost started crying again at the mere sight of you.

“What are you doing here Ale?” You couldn’t help but sigh, no matter how much her actions had inadvertently hurt you in the past you still hated seeing her upset.

“I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.”

“It’s almost 1 Ale, I’m not doing this right now.”

“I’m sorry I completely forgot that you could have been asleep, did I wake you?” You could see the panic in her eyes that she might have caused further trouble.

“You didn’t, I’m finding it hard to get to sleep right now.” It was like your brain and your mouth weren’t connected. Your brain was telling you to shut the door right now but your mouth suddenly blurted out your problems. “You should probably go get some sleep too.”

“Not without knowing what’s going to happen to us. I’m so scared that I’ve already lost you.”

“Ale….”

“Please Y/N, I know I don’t deserve it and I know you probably hate me already but…”

“I don’t hate you.” Even with all the hurt you felt you couldn’t stand seeing her crying and upset like this. “I’m not doing this tonight but maybe you can stay. Just to sleep.”

She accepted that offer, quickly making her way up to your bedroom and to her side of the bed, letting you curl up in her arms with your head resting on her chest. “I won’t give up without a fight Y/N. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

…..

You hated admitting it but that’s the best night sleep you’d had in a long time. For a moment you almost forgot all the issues, falling asleep in her arms and then waking up like you usually would on a Sunday, the smell of bacon wafting through your house.

Quickly freshening yourself up, you made sure you put on your stern face before you made your way downstairs. It would take a lot more than this to fix what had happened and you couldn’t let her get away with it that easily.

It was hard to keep that up though as you walked into the kitchen, finding her at the stove with just your shirt on and quietly humming along to the radio.

“Hola.” You were knocked out of your trance with her greeting and small smile. “Please sit down, it’s almost done.”

Never in your life have you ever had this much awkwardness tension between you both. You busied yourself pouring you both a cup of coffee from the pot and an orange juice as she plated up the food. You ate in silence, each of you occasionally looking up willing yourself to start the conversation and then cowardly putting your head back down.

You almost couldn’t write it, just as you finished with your food, The both of you awkwardly drinking your coffee when your song came on the radio. The very song that merely two weeks ago would have put a smile on your face but now just gave you memories of that night. The very reason you were now in this situation.

“I guess we should talk about it then rather than just sit here all morning.” You started. “Is Sofia about to turn up because she’s about as much a part of this relationship as I am?”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Do I because every time we go out it’s like she turns up? I’m constantly having to fight just to even have an ounce of your attention.”

“Except from that first time I’ve never once invited her out with us. I don’t know how she’s even finding out where we are.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that when she is there you act like she’s the only person you want to be with. It’s like you’re still in love with her.”

“I’m not.” The speed of her response at any other time would have indicated the truth in her words but right now it meant very little. “I love you Y/N.”

“That’s so hard to believe when last week you didn’t even want to dance with me, every invitation I gave you was just thrown back in my face. You spent more time talking about Sofia’s promotion than you did celebrating my birthday.”

“I can’t explain to you how sorry I am. Like I literally feel terrible. Sofia and I we didn’t work for a reason, she’s in my past now. I only see her as my friend, then Keira mentioned about it being weird and Lucy said something as well. I didn’t realise how it could seem to them but most importantly to you.”

“It’s like I’ll never be enough Ale, I’ll never be her.” Realising just how upset you were by this and the root cause of the troubles you’d been having, Ale knelt down in front of you, taking your hands in her own.

“You’ll never be Sofia, Y/N. But I don’t want you to be her, I want you to be you because that’s the person I’m in love with.”

“I’ll never be a football geek Ale, I’ll never have this high powered job. I’ll never match what you deserve.”

“I couldn’t care less about your job, I couldn’t care less about how much you love football. I love who you are as a person. I love how passionate you are about what you do. I love how you support me and care for me. I love how you take Nala on a walk when I’m having a bad day. I love how much my family adores you.”

“You family adores Sofia too.” You argued, sometimes them bringing her up hurt more than her showing up.

“You have no idea how much they adore you, whenever I go round they always ask about you, only you. Alba mentioned you coming on our family holiday before I could even suggest it. They like Sofia as my friend but they pushed me to ask you out.”

“Really?”

“Really, I know this isn’t a short fix. I know I’ll have to work my way back into your good books but I’m ready to put in that work.”

“What about Sofia?”

“She’s pushed the line with this and I can see that now. I’ll message her, set some boundaries. You can see the messages if you want.”

“I trust you Ale.” This whole thing was never about trust and you wanted to assure her of that. “But this needs some sort of change.”

“I know and I’ll do that.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the realisation that not only was this going to change but this was going to change because of Ale stepping up for your feelings. “Thank you.” You whispered, reaching for her hand to pull her onto your lap. “I love you Ale.”

“I love you too.”

….

The next Barcelona team night out was for Jana’s 21st birthday. Thankfully for you the international girls had returned from their break, so Keira and Ingrid were there to catch up with.

The major difference though from the last night out was the reassurance Ale gave you through the night. When you were sat down there was constant contact between you both, you danced together and laughed at each other as we danced with our friends and the birthday girl.

You were expecting Sofia to be there and your suspicions were deemed correct when she walked into the club with Patri’s girlfriend.

It didn’t take her long to come over to your table, yourself and Ale joined by Ingrid, Mapi, Rolfo, Keira and Lucy.

“Hey guys.” She said, conveniently standing at the head of the table next to Ale. Resting a hand on her shoulder you could see Ale tense as she squeezed your thigh and shuffled closer to you so the hand dropped. “Hi Ale.”

“Hi Sofia.” You could see Sofia’s face drop as Ale immediately stood up, taking your hand in her own. “Come on let’s dance.”

“Oh I was just about to suggest a dance.” The girl didn’t give up.

“Sorry this is just for Y/N and I. We love this song.” You’d never even heard of this song but you weren’t about to go against her point, letting her drag you into the middle of the dancefloor. “Do you want a dance then?”

“Always with you.”

You managed to avoid her for the rest of the night, thinking you’d got away with just one interaction with her when you spotted a figure coming out to you as you both waited for your taxi.

“Ale wait.” You had to hold in your groan as Sofia shouted over to you. Your pleas for the taxi to come quicker were left unanswered as she reached you, instantly reaching out to touch Ale again. “I haven’t had the chance to speak to you alone tonight. I thought we could catch up.”

“Sofia, you read my message right?”

“But that didn’t say anything about not being friends.” You’d read the message Ale had sent the afternoon after your talk. She made it clear that it wasn’t ok for her to be at your dates or to corner her at events. She couldn’t call Ale late at night to pick her up from the club. Lastly making it clear that she loved you and Ale wouldn’t put up with her disrespecting you in any way.

“I can’t be friends with someone who’s been almost stalking me for the past six months. How have you even been able to do that?”

“I thought you would want to spend time with me after the theatre trip, I ask around for you. I just wanted to spend time with you,”

“Well don’t, I thought I loved you in the past but that’s over now. I’m with Y/N, I love her. You can’t do this anymore Sofia, you’re clinging to a rope which isn’t even there anymore.”

If she hadn’t been manipulating this whole situation up to now you would have felt sorry for her. You could see in her eyes she still loved Ale and maybe now was the first time she’s truly recognised that this love has gone from Ale. “I’ll leave you both alone.”

“Thank you.” This is the first time you’d contributed to the conversation but you had to do this. “I hope you find happiness Sofia.”

“Thank you.”

The taxi arriving gave you the perfect opportunity to slip away from the conversation, leaving her stood on the side of the road as you cuddled together in the back of the vehicle. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[karalovesallthegirls]

Some Q's for youuu:

8. How slow is a slow burn? 🕒

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it. 📝

22. What is it about watching the same two idiots falling in love over and over again? 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing? 🤓

30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't. 🪦🙀

I appreciate your dedication using the emojis, they enhanced the experience greatly!!!!

8. How slow is a slow burn? 🕒 

The hottest slow burn 2 me is one where they can barely even make eye contact for a solid 15k, let alone touch lips. I want them to go through every possible option and do every possible thing to avoid getting together for so long they’re practically pulling their hair out in the frustration of it. Their desperation for each other needs to be so unbearable that they truly genuinely lose their minds, and they then need to stay apart for a little while after that.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it. 📝 “Alien…” she whispers, eyes wide with a terror so painfully familiar to Kara. “Oh, God.” “Miss Luthor, I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I just need the hard drive. That’s all," Kara says.

She tries to keep a soothing tone, but she’s so tired of this. She wants to be done. She’s so close to being done, too. The Luthor's eyes are intense and focused, studying Kara back just as deeply as Kara studies her. She’s beautiful, Kara thinks, and she’s scared. Everyone is always scared of the alien. The woman holds the device out with one hand and Kara can see the slight shake to it. “You won’t hurt me?” she asks again, and Kara smiles. “I promise,” Kara says. She grabs the drive but feels some resistance as she tugs. The other woman isn’t letting go. Kara looks at her again to find her smiling. “Funny,” Lena Luthor says. “Because I’m going to hurt you.” Kara’s head whips back with the force of the hit, blood splattering from her mouth as she falls.

22. What is it about watching the same two idiots falling in love over and over again? 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

For me I fucking LOVE a multiverse like what do you mean they will find each other in every form, in every world, in every time??? What do you MEAN if there’s a version of one that exists the other must be elsewhere waiting for the chance and not knowing it?? What do you MEAN quantum entanglement?????

28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing? 🤓

Don’t try to write it correctly the first round, just get material on the page. 

Write out your story concepts like you’re writing a transcript of your brain. You’re not editing or correcting or explaining meaning, just conveying exactly what is there as it is. My preferred method is just a big stream of conscious paragraph with no punctuations and often times looks like I’m describing drama to a friend via text - “[…] and then Lena was like Lex what the fuck!!!!!! bitch!!!!! and then Kara freaks out and grabs […] - and then just leave it for a little while. Come back to it later and divide them up into fragmented sentences and concepts and build from there. When I spend ages trying to think of the right way to write out my ideas more often than not I find I’ve written nothing, and the things left unwritten have faded away from my memory like they’d never been there at all.

30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't. 🪦🙀

I have a fic concept I flirt with sometimes where Lena is head of security for Luthor Corp distribution, which handles art and artifacts for hundreds of museums around the world, and she is forced to handle the chaos of some masked thief that keeps stealing things and returning them to their original cultures. Lillian is breathing down her neck to fix this, but no one ever seems able to even get more than a glimpse of the crook - until Lena does. 

And Lena realizes three things when she finally sees the masked Robin Hood rip-off:

1.) the thief is a woman, and somehow able to handle such massive robberies alone.

2.) The thief gets sloppy when Lena is there, nervous and bumbling and chatty. She acts like she’s never seen a pretty girl before. Like she wants to impress Lena just as much as rob her.

3.) Lena might not be able to stop the robberies with her wit, but she sure as hell can with her tits.

[ikilledyvette]

Definitely not distracting myself from Election Day anxiety! Despite the first sentence of this fic, this is a standalone for now. I've got a whole multi-chap story in my head, but IDK when or if I'm gonna get to it. If you'd like to be tagged on the off-chance I do write more, just let me know!

Eddie is the first one to get stuck in a time loop and predictably takes the longest to accept that, no, he doesn’t have a brain tumor, and no, he isn’t going crazy, and yes, this is really happening to him. Once Eddie finally acknowledges this, he becomes convinced that fixing things with Christopher will break the cycle. It doesn’t. 

Eddie, well. He maybe has a very small emotional breakdown then because he’s long since lost track of how long he’s been trapped here, and finally, finally he managed to get his son back; finally, he was actually happy, and then—

It’s Tuesday again, and Chris is gone, and Eddie is all alone.

So yeah, maybe Eddie has a very minor breakdown where he just sorta ... lies down on the station floor and listlessly tells everyone there’s no point in getting up, no point in doing anything; he’s just going to stay here until it isn’t Tuesday anymore, which won’t actually happen because it’s always Tuesday; it’ll never stop being Tuesday, and is it possible he died, and this is literal Hell? This really feels like it might be literal Hell. At which point, Chimney and Hen lift him up on a gurney and drive him to the hospital, and Eddie is admitted overnight and then wakes up the next day in his own bed, alone again. It’s Tuesday.

Well. No point wasting more time feeling sorry for himself. That’s not how Eddie was raised, so he gets back to work on breaking the loop, this time (reluctantly) telling people in order to get their advice. He tells Buck first (because he always goes to Buck first), and Buck believes him because, well. He’s Buck. (Maybe YOU’RE in a coma dream this time, Buck inevitably says each and every time they have this conversation.) Eddie also goes to Chimney (because he must have some idea right, all those movies), and Chimney pretends not to believe Eddie but obviously does; at least, he does once Eddie predicts the next six things that happen. (Thus begins the 118 Time Loop Movie Nights. Eddie’s pretty sure he’s now seen every single time loop movie and television episode that was ever made. His favorite is Edge of Tomorrow.) And Eddie inevitably goes to Bobby, too (because Cap always gives good advice, even if Eddie can’t always follow it), and Bobby clearly doesn’t quite believe him, but humors Eddie anyway. (Also, if Eddie asks early enough, he can get Bobby to change the menu. Eddie is so sick of pancakes. Eddie will never eat a pancake again.)

He never bothers trying to convince Tommy or Hen about the time loop because Tommy only goes along with weird shit when Buck is involved (Eddie gave Tommy so much shit for dressing up for that mummy funeral), and it’s just too hard to imagine Hen “this time he only got stabbed” Wilson humoring anyone. Honestly, Eddie respects her for that.

He goes back to church. (It doesn’t help.) He screams at his parents. (It doesn’t help—not with the time loop, anyway, but on a spiritual level, it’s pretty great.) He shaves off his mustache, not because he thinks it’ll work, but because Buck, Chimney, and Bobby each independently suggest that it might. (It doesn’t, and Eddie scowls for the remainder of the day because everyone at the station keeps coming up to him and saying things like, “Finally came to your senses, huh, Diaz?” or “oh, thank God,” or “YES! Pay up, bitches, I WON!”)

Eddie stumbles into the actual solution entirely by accident. Three days after the Mustache Solution fails—and maybe, maybe in the middle of a second emotional breakdown—Eddie, refusing to get up out of bed, calls 911, and says, “Well, turns out I’m still stuck in this time loop. Any advice?”

Maddie takes the call, and while she clearly thinks Eddie is either having some kind of psychological meltdown (possibly true) or has a terrible head injury (not true, unfortunately), she’s also ... nice, offering good-natured commiseration about the time loop in between more professional questions like “are you bleeding” or “is there anyone else around, Eddie?” She sounds worried but also calm, like this isn’t even in her Top 10 Weirdest 911 Calls, and for some reason, he finds that oddly soothing.

Eddie ends up in the hospital again, but the next day when everything resets, he asks Maddie to lunch, saying yeah, it’s kind of out of the blue, but isn’t it weird how little time they’ve actually spent together over the past seven years? Maddie agrees, and lunch goes great. They have a surprising amount in common: Buck, obviously, but also complicated relationships with their parents, and struggles with depression, and a history of leaving newborn children behind and lying to themselves that it’s for the best. So. Not all positive stuff, exactly, but it’s kinda good to have someone else to talk to about it. And they chat about lighter stuff, too. Maddie says she’ll try one of his telenovelas if he tries one of her k-dramas. He formally accepts with a handshake, and she laughs and says, “Deal.”

Eddie goes to bed that Tuesday, thinking I needed this break, and hopes to hang out with Maddie again someday if he ever returns to his own timeline. And then he wakes up, and it’s—Wednesday? And Eddie doesn’t know what the hell to do with that. 

He’s not ... could he ... could he be secretly in love with Maddie? 

Eddie barely gets through the thought before making a face and immediately shaking his head. No, Maddie’s pretty, and she's nice, and he can see why both Buck and Chimney adore her—but he doesn’t love her, and she definitely doesn’t love him, and getting tacos together doesn’t exactly feel like the kind of Important Life Lesson that all of Chimney’s movies taught him to expect. Eddie considers having a third mini breakdown about it, but it’s Wednesday now, so unfortunately, there will be actual consequences for that.

Instead, Eddie goes back to work and just ... continues on with his life. He doesn’t tell anyone about the time loop, obviously, because no one but Buck would believe him, and even if they did believe him, they’d just tease Eddie that his Important Life Lesson was to make a friend. (Eddie has friends! Ones outside the 118, even! He has Tommy! And ... and other people! Okay, Eddie used to have a lot more friends, but lately, he’s just ... he’s been so busy with work. He’s picking up all the overtime he can because otherwise he’s home alone in an empty house, looking at old pictures and collapsing in his son’s bed and crying where no one can see him—but it’s fine. He’s fine.)

Okay, maybe he hasn’t been fine. But other than Eddie’s new aversion to pancakes and a neurotic need to check the date roughly twenty times a day, he’s actually doing pretty great now. For one thing, he and Maddie keep getting lunches and swapping TV shows. (Chimney and Buck squint at them, suspicious of this newfound alliance.) And most importantly, Eddie hasn’t forgotten what he learned about finally reconnecting with his son. (The short version: honest communication and lots and lots of therapy.) Three weeks after the time loop ends, Christopher finally comes home on two conditions: Eddie keeps going to therapy and also finally shaves the mustache.

Eddie does both.

[sebsallowapologist]

Little Bird || Part 2

A little jealous Sebastian 🤍

Sebastian Sallow x F! Reader • 7th Year • Friends to Lovers

warnings: cursing, feelings of insecurity

——————————

I must have made this damn potion eight hundred times. And each time it came out worse and worse. If I didn’t know any better I would say it looks like I was TRYING to do a bad job. Professor Sharp and the rest of the class had left a while ago, not willing to miss his evening meal over watching me struggle with something most students could grasp in their third year.

I stare into the cauldron of black, bubbling goo and contemplate just sticking my head in it, if I’m lucky it’ll boil my brain and then I’d never have to make another potion again.

“Oh yikes.” Garreth mutters, coming to a halt next to my table, the only one who stayed after class. I’m guessing to work on whatever his next concoction was. 

“Thanks Gareth.” I mumble, tossing in another spoonful of the ingredient closest to me, trying to make it look like I knew what I was doing and that I wasn’t some idiot staring back at her reflection in her cauldron. I stir the potion again, but this time my spoon doesn’t come back intact, the goo monster I’ve created eats away at the metal, so I’m left with just the handle. “Fuck.”

“Can I- would you like-“ he rubs the back of his neck and he tries to frame his question. “If you're offering help I’ll gladly take it.” I sigh, cutting him off. He doesn’t need to feel embarrassed, I was the one who wanted to crawl out of my skin. The quicker this potion was done the better.

“I am. Offering that is.”

“Thank god.”

I sit down on the stool next to the table and slump over as Gareth gets rid of my last horror show of an attempt. “It’s really quite easy...”

“So I’m just stupid?”

“I would never say THAT.” Gareth chuckles and starts preparing his ingredients, not even needing to look at the recipe. “Gareth, can you make me something that just fixes my brain so I understand these lessons? We’re barely at the start of term and I’m already lost. For Merlin’s sake- this is review!”

“Give yourself more credit, you missed the first four years of your education.” He said softly, not looking up from the cutting board.

“We can’t keep using that as an excuse for me.” I sigh and take off my robe. Anytime I couldnt figure something out, everyone loved using me being a late bloomer as an excuse. Magic manifested later for me, and it was like I was everyones broken doll, they all knew what happened in year five- being the hero of Hogwarts was a fluke. 

I simply hard a different magic than others- I wasn’t extraordinary, I was lucky. The shine of it had all work off a long time ago.

Gareth glanced over at me, then back and the cauldron, then back at me. “C'mon. You do the mixing, I'll do the measuring.” He pulled me up from the stool and stood me next to the cauldron, a fresh un-melted spoon in my hand.

“Bless you, Weasley.”

With his careful instructions we finally finish the potion and I tried to steadily pour it into the tiny vial, but I was exhausted, my hand was cramping from doing a hundred counter clockwise turns, and then a hundred more clockside stirs. My hand holding the tiny glass container won’t stop shaking. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, wanting to give up on the whole thing.

Garreth takes his hand and covers my own, helping me hold steady. I glance up and mumble “thank you”, before gently tipping my hand and pour the potion. Once I’m done I let out the breath I was holding out and looked up at Gareth. Before I can say anything someone clears their throat at the entrance of the classroom.

Sebastian is standing there, tie loose around his neck. “Bird, you weren’t at dinner.”

“Yeah I was busy failing potions.” I sigh and put the stopper on my vial. It’s about now when I realize just how close Gareth and I are standing. I blush and take a step back. “Thank you for your help. Maybe I’ll graduate this year.” I smile- walking over to the professor's desk to drop off my finished work.

“You could have found me for help.” Sebastian said as I walked over to him, grabbing my bag and cloak on the way. He runs his hand gently down my back in greeting. I shrug. Of course he’d be able to help. The ever- brilliant professor's son.

“I’m happy to help.” Gareth said. His voice sounded deeper than it had just a few moments ago. “Since you’re not in this potions class. You don’t know the coursework.”

“I’m taking private classes with Sharp.” Sebastian smiled. “Anything she needs help with I can pick it up.” Sebastian had a lot of those, the private lessons. After Sebastian worked to turn his shit around last year Sharp had taken an interest, impressed with Seb getting serious about training to be ‘the greatest auror the world had ever seen’ or at least that's what he said..

“Do you think they’re still serving food? I’m starved.” And tired of listening to this who’s better at potions battle. Men.

Sebastian breaks eye contact with Gareth to look down at me, frowning. “I think they’re all done serving. We-“

“I haven’t eaten either. I can accompany you to dinner. Somewhere in Hogsmeade maybe?” Gareth interrupts, looking down at me. I guess the contest wasn’t over.

Sebastian shoots him a look that could kill. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. “That's nice of you- but I’m dead tired. I think I’ll head off to bed.”

“Right- right. Well. Goodnight then.” Gareth mutters standing there for one more too awkward second before ducking out of the classroom, leaving Sebastian and I alone. “You’re gone to bed?” he chuckles, knowing I couldn’t be serious.

I roll my eyes and grab his cloak, dragging him out of the classroom and toward the room of requirement.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Sensing my hunger the room had sandwiches, butterbeer and snacks laid out for our arrival. I grab a few things and walk toward my meadow. “Are you coming?” I ask Sebastian, who’s eyeing the candies the room put out.

“Sometimes I get overwhelmingly jealous of your room, you know if I ever come here alone I don’t get this kind of treatment. And Deek always gives me a look..”

“I’m glad.��� I giggle “If it’s coming from Deek I’m sure you deserve it.” I walk through the door that leads me to my meadow, filled with Mooncalfs. Sebastian follows close behind.

“How were the beasties over the summer?” He asks, bending down to pat one gently on the head.

“Deek said very well behaved, but of course missed me terribly.” I conjure some treats and let all my little friends have dinner with us before settling in the grass to eat my own food.

“Smart little things.” Sebastian smiled and sat down next to me. As always we sat back to back, using each other's weight to prop ourselves up. Just like we did for hours and hours after everything that happened in year five. Facing away from each other, admitting what terrible things we had to do, those marks we carried on our soul forever. It got easier to deal with the farther away we got from it, but it was always there, the thing that always bound us.

“Thought for a thought.” I say and take a bite of my sandwich. A little game we played, passing back the things that flew through our heads.

“I'm very happy to be home.” I smile, starting us off. “I feel so empty, and lonely all summer.”

“You live in London.” He sighs. “I don’t understand how you can feel lonely there.”

Because you’re not there. Was the answer, but it was his turn to say a thought outloud.

“I’m very happy to not be alone anymore either." he mumbles, and I look down at the grass. I put my hand on top of his, curling my fingers in a comforting squeeze.

[bullet-prooflove]

Got You: Cyrus Lupo x Reader

Tagging: @darqchilddaydreamz @words-and-seeds @infinity-mars @malindacath @tkappi @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets  @kmc1989 @oureternalbond 

Cyrus doesn’t expect to see you waiting for him at JFK, the same airport the two of you said goodbye in four years ago. It gives him a sense of déjà vu, because you were wearing the same expression back then too. A mix of sadness and propriety. You don’t like to wear your emotions on your sleeve, he knows that he’s to blame for that.

“Hey.” He says quietly before his eyes flicker to Detective Green who stands alongside of you.

He doesn’t know what you’ve told your partner, so he hangs back because things like this have the tendency to get awkward and he doesn’t want that for you. He’s done enough damage over the years.

It doesn’t matter that he wants to embrace you, that he wants to bury his face in the curve of your throat and take comfort in your presence. He lost the right to that when he took up his posting with the Intelligence Division.

You let Green take the lead while you buy the three of you coffee. The truth is you don’t know what to say because the Tommy that you knew wouldn’t have gotten involved with hookers and dope, he was a family man through and through. You see the blow land, the disbelief in his features. Cyrus looks to you for confirmation, and you incline your head just enough for him to read it as a nod.

“That’s not my brother.” He reiterates, shaking his head. “He wouldn’t cheat on his wife; he wasn’t a weak person. He beat cancer five years ago.”

“When was the last time you talked to him?” You ask him, your fingertips toying with a sachet of sugar. You don’t take it, but you need something to do with your hands because this situation feels like it’s devolving. The more information you give, the more you can see Cyrus withdrawing into himself.

“I don’t know.” He hesitates before taking a sip from his coffee. “He called me a few weeks ago but I was seeing to a situation, I couldn’t ring back.”

There’s guilt there, you can sense it under the surface. He looks at you and then looks away, swallowing hard. You suspect that he did the same thing to Tommy that he did to you four years ago. One phone call when he got to Morocco and then it was like he disappeared off the face of the earth.

“If it wasn’t a paid date or a girlfriend who else would have wanted your brother dead?” Ed asks him and Cyrus purses his lips together into a grim line. You can see the cogs turning in his brain, that steely glint in his eyes as the mood starts to shift.

“Hey.” You say tapping the back of his hand with your fingertip to draw his attention to you. He tilts his head; his jaw clenching and you fix him with a fierce look of your own. “Do not even think about it. They won’t let you work on this case Cyrus.”

He says nothing, he simply picks up his cup of coffee stares straight ahead. You already know that your words have fallen on deaf ears. Nothing is going to stop Cyrus Lupo finding out what happened to his brother.

***

Cyrus causes problems from the outset. It starts with using Green’s name at the M.E’s office to confirm his theory regarding Tommy’s cancer and continues to him challenging Van Buren regarding the classification of the death. He practically begs the Lieutenant to work the case.

When you hear the details of what he’s been up to abroad, you feel your heart stutter in your chest because you can see his self-destructive tendencies playing out in an international arena.

Lupo broke some big cases in some unfriendly parts of the world, and he did it with no back up, no warrants, no weapon, Van Buren tells you. Your gaze strays to your ex-lover on the other side of the glass and part of you wants to strangle him. The police officer in you wants to commend him. He’s still managing to cause conflict in you, even after all this time.

His persistence and stubbornness pays off. With the additional death it’s decided he’ll work that part of the case alongside the two of you. Green resents it and you pinch the bridge of your nose because already you’re getting a migraine from the potential ramifications of having Cyrus back in your life.

When the videos show up, you see the moment that he starts to fall apart. The bullpen is empty, there’s just the two of you seated at the same desk watching Driscol’s suicide as Nolan interviews him. When the cursor hovers over the next file, you place your hand on his arm to stop him. He looks at you, and you already know that no matter what you say, he’s going to watch Tommy’s video.

You watch it with him. Tommy as he sits there, hooked up to the machine, the moment he presses the button, the second the light dies in his eyes. You tilt your head towards Cyrus as the devastation hits him, his shoulders start to quake, and he sucks in deep shaky breath and then another trying to compose himself.

“Come here.” You say softly and he complies burying his face into the hollow of your shoulder as he clutches onto you like a lifeline.

The first sob vibrates through your entire body, you can feel his anguish as his hands grip your shirt the emotion forcing it’s way through his system. There’s no protocol for grief, it’s violent and gut wrenching, it tears at your insides, eviscerating you and leaves your guts spilling out all over the floor. Your fingertips run through his curls, a soothing motion from a time he used to wake up beside in the throes of a nightmare, tears staining his cheeks and his heart pounding in his chest.

“I’ve got you.” You whisper as you cradle him close. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

Love Lupo? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[breannasfluff]

Too Little, Too Late - P2

Whump Rating: 5/5 Part 2 of 3, with an eventual happy ending! Comfort tomorrow! TW: MCD, head injury, blood, injury, impaled

“Hyrule! Over here! We need help!” Four waves across the battlefield and Hyrule changes direction. Only, it’s not just Four. Or, there’s more than one Four. There’s four of them and—oh. Of course, the name makes sense now.

“Please, you have to help Vio!” Red’s face is a mess of tears and the other three crouch around someone on the ground.

“I’m out of magic,” Hyrule says, already dropping next to the others. “What happened?”

“One of the monsters hit him in the head,” Green says. “But like, hard. Really hard.”

Hyrule hums and carefully runs his hands through Vio’s hair, feeling his head. When his fingers reach the back of his head, he freezes.

“What? What is it?” Red shakes his arm slightly, panic sending his voice high. “Is he going to be okay?”

The traveler takes a slow breath before turning to him. “There’s swelling under the skin. Blood pooling under his skin, probably, but it will press on his brain.”

Blue hisses, eyes darting from Vio to Hyrule. “Can you fix it?”

Slowly, miserably, Hyrule shakes his head. “Even with my magic, I don’t…I don’t think I could do anything. I’m—I’m so sorry.” All he’s done today is fail his brothers. Why can’t it be him in their place? Any of these heroes is worth more than him.

“No, no, no!” Green is shaking Vio, which certainly won’t help head trauma. “Wake up! You have to wake up! We—we can merge!”

“That’s right, we’ll merge! Maybe—maybe it won’t be so bad.” Blue grabs for his sword and Red nudges another into Vio’s hand.

Green digs in a bag and thrusts a potion at Hyrule. “Here, to restore your magic.”

“I don’t—” Hyrule takes it, hands tightening on the glass. The liquid inside sparkles. “Even with this, I don’t think it will be enough to fix a head.”

“We have to try.” With a final glance at the others, Green closes his eyes and does—something. The multiple Fours slide into each other and combine into one with a multicolor tunic.

Hyrule carefully feels his head again. The swelling is still there. Is it less? Can he try with the magic? Or should he save it in case someone else is injured?

His question is answered when Four opens his eyes. “Told you it would work,” he says with a weak grin.

The traveler yanks him into a hug, then gentles his touch when the smith grunts. “You need to be careful of your head.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a royal headache. I can function, though, let’s go check on the others.”

There’s a roar and arcs of energy slice across the battlefield. Time has transformed with one of his masks. The towering figure has full-face markings to match the partial ones he normally bears. Blank eyes glow as he yells, swinging a double helix sword.

Hyrule and Four pause, watching. Not-Time is limping, so he’s still injured. The traveler turns to Four. “Go find Legend or Wind; make sure they are okay. I’ll see if I can get to Time.”

Four pauses, hand to his head, then nods slowly.

“You okay?” Was the head injury getting worse? He’s reaching for the smith when his hand is batted away.

“Peachy. Just the headache. Go get Time.”

Hyrule watches him go with a frown, then turns back to the fight. Not-Time has cleared the monsters in the immediate area, so Hyrule picks his way around bodies to reach him.

“Time!”

The person turns to look at him, face morphing into a snarl. “I’ll wipe the world of your scum!”

“It’s me! Hyrule! The traveler! I’m your friend!”

“I have no friends. My only purpose is to purge the world through battle. I am the Fierce Deity and I do not suffer weakness.”

Hyrule starts backing up as the other advances. “No! I just want to help heal your leg! I can help, I promise!”

“Help?” It comes out a sneer. “Like you helped the other heroes? When you let them die?”

“No! I tried to help! I—I did!”

Fierce Deity paces closer; a predator closing in on his prey. “You did not help. You watched as they died. You care only about yourself.”

“That’s not true!”

The deity raises the giant sword, swinging it toward Hyrule. “Is that so?”

The traveler’s sword is in his hand before he remembers pulling it. He pauses, looking at it with a frown. This isn’t right. He can’t fight Time! Even if it’s not…Time. “You need to take that mask off!”

Fierce tilts his head and sneers. “I think not.” He surges forward, sword raised.

“No!” Wind shoves Hyrule to the side, raising his own sword.

“Sailor! Get out of here!” His voice is shrill as he pushes forward, trying to draw the deity’s attention away from Wind.

The deity slashes at Wind and the sword—the great double helix sword—bites deep into Wind’s side. The sailor falls with a choked scream.

Seconds later, Hyrule’s sword sinks through the deity’s heart. It screams; deep and unsettling as it rolls across the battlefield, before falling to its knees.

Hyrule ignores him to rush to Wind. He’s got magic now! Healing pulses at his fingertips and he shoves it into the sailor’s side. Knitting up the arteries, trying to stop the internal bleeding. Drawing away the infection and dirt.

Wind wheezes and whimpers.

“It’s okay, I can heal this.” And for the first time that day, Hyrule can.

“I’m scared.”

He glances at Wind. He’s just a kid. Barely a teen. Baby fat still rounds out his cheeks and his hair holds the messiness of childhood. Like this, hurt, and still, he’s so much smaller than normal. Wind rounds out his size with personality; filling the space around him.

With a soft smile, he squeezes Wind’s hand. “It’s okay to be scared. But I’m going to make you better.”

The assurances don’t seem to help. “I miss Aryll. And Grandma.” Wind sniffs then sobs as tears run down his cheeks. “I want to go home. I want to go home!”

“You will—I promise!” Hyrule focuses harder on the wound. The magic wasn’t enough to restore him and he’s running low. There are still so many veins pumping blood. Why isn’t this stopping? How deep did the sword cut?

Bind an artery here, pull out the infection there, and stitch the muscle back together. Ah, an organ, that’s going to be a tough one.

“I want to go home! I hate this journey; I don’t want to be a hero. I just want to go home!”

Hyrule’s eyes are misting and he swipes at them angrily. He’s got to concentrate.

“I wanna go h-home, Rulie. P-please.”

“I just need a little more time.” But there is no more time. With a final spark, the magic runs dry. Wind’s body continues to pump blood from arteries he hasn’t closed. Hyrule uses a spare dagger to rip at his tunic, pulling off strips to ball and press to Wind’s stomach. This isn’t ideal; the fabric is stained with blood already. He’s out of bandages though after Wolfie.

It's not enough, blood is soaking through the fabric. The damaged organ is sending shock signals to the brain and the sailor moans, thrashing.

Hyrule leans across him, trying to keep him still. “Hey, you can’t move, I just—” Just what?

Wind’s voice shakes when he says, “You promised! I…I wanna go home…”

The traveler did promise. He’s promised so many times today that the words have no meaning. He can’t save a single one of them. Still, he presses fabric to the wound, hoping against hope that this time, this time, it will be enough.

The sailor is so young; so fragile. Sunny and full of energy; always insisting he can help. That he’s as much of a hero as the others.

Blood soaks through the cloth, staining already red fingers. No matter how long he scrubs, he’s never going to remove the stain. Hyrule pulls Wind into his chest, counting out the breaths until they stop puffing against his neck.

Numb, he lowers the sailor to the ground. The makeshift bandage is stained with so much red he can’t see the original tunic color. It falls to the ground, wet. That’s Wind’s blood, soaking cloth. He stares at the grass, taking in nothing, before he finally turns back to the deity.

Fierce is gone. Instead, Time is slumped on the ground, Hyrule’s sword still through his heart. Next to him, a charred mask holds the deity’s face.

[msfcatlover]

AT LAST! THE ZOMBIE TIMELINE!!!

Huge thanks to @666imgoingtohell, whose suggestions finally gave the creative side of my brain the kick it needed to work out Steph’s timeline! Here’s what I’ve got so far.

(Warnings for all things Joker, implied torture & experimentation, disease, death, suicide, eye trauma, asphyxiation, overdose, isolation, depression, drinking, self-sacrifice… fuck, I am definitely missing a few, but that’s all I can think of for now.)

(…yeah, they all come from dark, depressing futures where everyone they cared about died, but Steph’s is definitely the most fucked up.)

.

The Joker captures both Tim & Damian. Joker thinks it’ll be extra funny if he can make a Robin corrupt themself, so Damian is used as leverage. (Damian hates it, hates every second of it, but especially hates the guilty way Tim glances at Damian before acquiescing to Joker’s orders. Make this, do that, eat this, take a deep breath off this inhaler we all know is horribly poisoned while Joker cackles like it’s the funniest shit he’s ever seen. Every free moment, Tim looks for an escape. Every chance Tim gets, he works in some sort of message or sabotage to whatever he’s made. Even as Tim’s face sets in a permanent smile, even as he becomes increasingly bright & cheerful about following orders, Tim keeps at it. Even as the orders switch to using Dami as a guinea pig—Tim blinks rapidly, cheeks twitching, and says with a sort of happy confusion, “That wasn’t the deal.” Joker says the other option is Robin dies right now. Damian can see the horror in Tim’s eyes when the first needle slides in; Tim’s twisted lips form a silent “sorry” in the moment Joker can’t see it.—even then, Tim keeps antidotes and medical supplies as close as he can, scrambling to fix whatever he’s done in the aftermath.)

(Once, after Tim started to change but before the deal changed to match, Joker had to go fight Batman and left both of them handcuffed to the same pipe overnight. “Robin,” Tim whispered into the dark, “I need you to promise me something.” “What is it?” “Joker’s not curable, everyone knows that. If I become like that—” “No!” “It’s already happening.” Tim giggled. “I can feel it.” “Absolutely not! How dare you, ask me to—” “It doesn’t have to be you. But I need you to make sure.” “No,” Damian says again. It’s a little less forceful, a little more desperate. “I know what happens when I go bad, Dami.” Tim sounded almost giddy, though his words were grim. “That’s without Joker-fication. I—we can’t let that happen, okay?” “Stop being an idiot.” “No.” Tim laughed, but it was quickly muffled, like he was biting down on something to bottle it up. “Contingencies, baby bat! They’re important. If I go bad, I need you to make sure I can never hurt anyone again.” A pause. “We both know locking me up won’t be enough.” “It’s doing an impressive job so far.” Damian yanked his own handcuffs, so they rattled against the pipe. “If something as pathetic as this can hold you, you really think you stand a chance with Arkham?” “Arkham doesn’t have my baby brother in a death collar.” Tim’s voice went soft and distant-dreamy. It was the most serious he’d sounded in a long time. Damian swallowed. “I won’t let you hurt anyone. I promise.” “That’s the spirit!” The giggles were back as quickly as they’d left. It was awful.)

It took 2 months to find them. Damian was rescued, but the Joker just barely escaped, dragging a breathless Tim behind him. Damian had to be sedated, he was fighting so hard to go after them.

.

People started getting sick, seemingly at random. What started as lightheadedness bordering on dizziness turned to giddiness, and things escalated from there. Damian knew about Tim’s little rebellions and told everyone; the micro-doses of Joker venom worked to burn the virus out of their systems, but more victims just kept popping up.

(The fact it was so obviously Tim’s handiwork left the whole family shaken.)

The Bats kept searching for Tim.

.

They found him alone in a lab, Joker’s body laid out on the floor and left to rot. It was obvious Tim had been dipped since they last saw him, his skin bleached by the chemicals that first made the Joker. During the fight, one of the tables got overturned and Tim’s mysterious science setup got smashed.

“It’s out,” Tim whispered, almost reverently, before bursting into laughter. “It’s out! You can’t put it back, I can’t stop it anymore, because you let it out!”

(The fight ends with gas in the air and Steph’s hands around Tim’s throat, a too-wide smile creeping onto her face, before Damian drags her off, snapping at her that she’s not herself, and giving her an extra dose of antidote. Tim scrabbles back to the wall, one hand at his throat. The hoarseness from the choking almost drops Tim’s voice back to its normal register. “You promised. Dami, you promised.” Damian shakes his head. “It’s not too late—” “It is!” The cackle was just a horrible, rasping cough. Tim’s voice takes on a sing-song cadence once he gets his breath back. “Can’t come back from where I’ve gone, can’t fix what I’ve done! Red Robin’s gone, long gone. Make it stop.” The giggle is nearly silent, more of a shudder. “Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop!” Tim’s voice cracks back to laughter, like he’s telling a joke so good he can’t get out the punchline, and tears run down his cheeks.)

(It goes further, but the point is: Steph watches Damian drive a scalpel from the table into Tim’s eye, watches him twist until the twitching stops. Tim’s hands come up on instinct to grab Damian’s in the first moment, but Tim doesn’t fight it; he just holds on. Damian stumbles back and sits down hard on the floor.)

.

When Batman asks what happened, Steph speaks up before Damian can. “He killed himself.” Damian looks at her incredulously, but Steph plows forwards without hesitation. “It looked like he had a moment of lucidity. Tim asked us to kill him—his exact words were ‘make it stop’—” Her voice cracks, but she keeps going. “—and when Robin said we wouldn’t, he…” Steph swallows, and mimes jabbing herself in the eye. “Da— Robin tried to stop him, but Tim was… he was laughing, but he seemed really upset.”

Batman looks at Damian, who’s staring down at his blood-stained gloves (less blood-stained than Tim’s hands, which all but covered Damian’s.) “I promised,” Damian whispers, “that I wouldn’t let him hurt anyone. When we were both prisoners, I promised.” He looks up at Bruce, eyes full of tears. “I was going to break it! But he—”

Bruce places a hand on Damian’s head. “It’s alright, son. It’s not your fault.” (Damian doesn’t say anything else, just bursts into tears in his father’s arms. Steph wonders how long the can maintain the lie.)

(It’ll turn out she shouldn’t have worried; they’ll have much bigger problems soon, and you know what people say about keeping secrets.)

.

Here’s what they don’t realize: the Joker virus couldn’t survive outside of the human body or near-lab conditions. Transmission was near-impossible, and all victims up until this point had either been part of one of Joker’s schemes or subtly injected in crowded spaces; almost nobody caught it from anyone else.

Tim’s new strain (which he had been fighting with himself not to release, getting into a perfectionist loop as a distraction from the urge to just let it loose) as it turns out, is highly contagious. It can survive for a good few hours in open air, and rapidly colonizers any surface it lands on.  Tables. Floors. Clothes. Skin. Hair.

Steph & Damian rode back to the Batcave and underwent thorough decontamination of themselves, their gear, and the car alone. They took their shots just in case of exposure, and played cards while waiting out the hyperactive high a micro-dose of Joker Venom causes. Bruce came back, decontaminated, and sat down to run tests (because otherwise he’ll have to face the fact his son died tonight, and he’s not ready for that. Tim’s not dead until Bruce processes it, and you can’t make him.) 

Bruce did not realize he needed to take the shot too.

.

(Gonna be completely open right now: we are NOT going Batman-Who-Laughs. Mainly because he relies on several of my least favorite interpretations of Bruce’s character to make anything resembling sense, but if you need a different reason… Tim’s strain is much less about re-creating the Joker a million times over, and more about twisting how people emotionally react to the world around them; everything makes the happy-chemicals, and the stronger the emotional reaction ought to be, the higher that rush. While not inherently a degenerative condition, the ever escalating self-destructive behavior this leads to means it might as well be. For example, some of the infected are probably going to seek out fear toxin just to get that high, but just because their happy chemicals are going nuts doesn’t mean the fear isn’t under it, and doesn’t mean they’re safe from heart attacks.)

(It’s just not funny if everyone is telling the same jokes, is it? If everyone has the exact same sense of humor? Wouldn’t that get boring after a while? Obviously. Big J was just too self-absorbed to realize Timmy’s joke was better.)

.

The early symptoms can be easily mistaken for sleep deprivation & too much caffeine. The secondary ones can be chalked up to grief. It takes a little over a week for the infection to become obvious. The incubation period is only a couple of days.

Wayne Manor: compromised.

The Batcave: compromised.

Literally everywhere Bruce went before he realized what was going on: compromised.

(Wayne Enterprises, city hall, the public funeral, the Watchtower: all compromised.)

(Bruce locks himself in quarantine as soon as he realizes, but here is another problem: the micro-doses of Joker Venom are not a vaccine. They burn through the bloodstream like a secondary immune system, wiping out the J-virus specifically, but they do nothing to build up immunity. Re-exposure is always a concern. Bruce is perpetually contaminating everything in the room, and no sooner has the Joker Venom left his system than the infection sets in again. His blood work is never clean for more than a few hours.)

Heroes infected. Allies lost. No matter how hard they try, there’s not enough Joker Venom to go around, but oh, oh do they try.

.

The family falls apart.

Alfred’s heart can’t handle the treatments. 

Babs goes into complete lockdown. 

Damian feels so guilty, he throws himself into helping as many people as he can, taking only the bare minimum of shots so that there’s more for other heroes & civilians; when Damian gets sick, those borderline suicidal tendencies mesh with the J-virus in truly horrifying ways. 

Cass is the one who finds Damian’s body, barely managing to choke out her message to the other Bats as the gasses start to take effect. She manages to drag Damian almost to the window before she just can’t do it anymore, gasping laughter over the coms as her lungs give out, with backup still several minutes away. 

Jason (not yet reintegrated into the family) goes from a not entirely trustworthy, usually distant maybe-ally who would at least reliably back them up in an emergency to a usually hostile, paranoid mess, spiraling even deeper into his own depressive tendencies & terrible coping mechanisms as the virus spread, the shelters fell, and his trauma compounded on itself by the day.

(Once, Steph found a stash of liquor while searching for survivors. She, Jason, Dick, and Cass (who wasn’t dead yet) proceeded to get absolutely plastered that night, each talking about how they’d want to go out and making promises about what they’d do if the others died. It was the closest thing to relaxed any of them got since Tim & Damian first disappeared, and it would be the last they had together ever.)

(Here is why Jason is unrecognizable to Steph: he’s been a hostile loner for as long as she’s known him, pushing others away to protect himself, never abandoning them but never lingering any longer than he had to. He made it very clear he was helping because he “had” to, not because he wanted to, and even when they became closer after the world had fallen apart, Jason was still gruff & distant even at the best of times; even when they got along & liked eachother, the paranoia of never knowing if one of them might actually be sick was a constant wedge keeping them from getting too close. A Jason who doesn’t just occasionally let people stick around but seeks them out, whose insults are more affectionate than razor-edged, who grabs on and says, “This person is one of My People(TM), and anything that wants to mess with them has to do it over my dead body,” is an alien concept to her.)

Dick died evacuating some survivors from a 3rd floor apartment. Purely reflexively, he tried to give them a reassuring smile. Purely reflexively, they shot him in the face. (Steph, on the building just across the street keeping lookout, heard the shot and saw Dick fall. Whether he would’ve survived the gunshot is irrelevant when hitting the pavement practically head-first.)

One rescue mission was almost a clean success. They got the survivors all the way to the escape vehicle before realizing there was a kid still in the building. Jason’s jaw set, and Steph barely had time to scream for him not to go, don’t do this, don’t leave her like this, before he was running back in. (The kid made it out. Jason did not.)

Steph broke every promise she’d made about not giving up, about fighting to the end, about going out in a blaze of glory, after being cornered by a swarm. She chose to go out on her terms, though, refusing to give them the satisfaction of her pain or of her becoming one of them. All Steph’s cures would be unusable by the time help came, either smashed or tampered with by the Joker-zombies, but she had enough for the Joker Venom to do its original job.  She took all of them, and died laughing at her own ultimate failure.

.

.

.

(And then she wakes up.)