#but nope. just need to take an ibuprofen or something

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

curses upon my bloodline

[olessan]

I love the fact that I can work as hard as I can manage with a broken tooth and a dying tooth (one on each side, I've been chewing on the cavity for a year) and I still cannot save even $10 towards getting dental treatment (2 impacted wisdom teeth, + tooth broken off under the gum, + bad cavity) because I barely make enough to cover my food and board and the insane energy bill

[apocalypseornaw]

Comfort

You're hurting and Dean comes to the rescue

Talk of period stuff, fluff

Maybe it was internalized misogyny, maybe it was not wanting to look weak or maybe you'd been with the boys for so long you'd picked up on their self destructive tendencies but you hated admiting you were hurt. You'd argue injuries weren't that bad on hunts so you damn sure wasn't about to admit that your period had you doubled up in bed even after taking ibuprofen and having a heating pad tucked tightly against you.

You groaned as you attempted to find a position that meant the rolling cramps in your stomach and back would allow you to sleep but so far you'd been unsuccessful.

You must have dozed off at some point because you woke up to the unmistakable sound of Dean's knock at your door. "Come in" you called out, sitting up in an effort to make it seem like you'd simply been asleep instead of in pain. He walked in and was carrying two bags, one from the pharmacy and one from the grocery store.

He held up the pharmacy bag "I talked to that lady that works the front counter and she says this is the stuff that helped her daughter and now her granddaughter so I figured that was good. I got you more of your products too along with a new heating pad because yours is older than you are because you got it from Bobby" you blinked the tears forming in your eyes away as he held up the grocery store bag "and I got all your favorite snacks,plus a few of my favorite"

"How did you know?" You asked and he grinned "Come on sweetheart, I'm not that dumb. For one you barely sleep in here anymore besides when you want to be alone and you rarely want to be alone besides when you're on your period. And I can count weeks, I try to keep a track so we don't take on any cases that you feel like you need to help us on during this week so you don't overwork yourself" a few tears slipped down your cheeks and his eyes widened "Oh shit, baby did i do something wrong? Forget something?"

You shook your head "No baby. I just love you so damn much" his grin returned, bigger than it had been "I love you too sweetheart. Do you need anything?" "Will you lay down with me?" He nodded "of course" he laid the bags on the dresser and kicked off his boots before getting into bed next to you. He curled up to your back and wrapped one strong arm around your stomach. A moan left your lips when the cramp that had been starting in your lower stomach stopped from the pressure of his arm "Dean Winchester you are the perfect man"

He chuckled behind you and left a kiss on the side of your neck "I think you're a bit delirious from lack of sleep but I'll talk the compliment" you shook your head "nope, you're perfect. Gorgeous, strong, amazing hunter, bit of a dork, a god in bed and a sweetheart at your core"

Dean could feel his cheeks warm at your words "As much as I am loving this darlin, you need sleep. When you wake up you can continue showering me with compliments ok?" You yawned and nodded "I plan to until the day comes that you finally believe it"

You dozed off a little while later and Dean tucked himself a bit closer to you to make sure his arm didn't slip should he doze off. The position he was in had pressure where you needed it the most. He placed a gentle kiss to your neck and whispered "I love you" before getting comfortable on the pillow himself and closing his eyes.

[fox-bee926]

Who did this?

Harvey Specter x fem!reader

Masterlist A/N: Wow another one? I'm going to do one more after this and then answer an ask and put all my harvey fics on one post. Then after that who knows. I have an awesome aragorn x reader fic I've been playing around with so I might work on that. Definitely going to try and do more one shots to improve my writing. I really enjoy it but depression makes it a tad hard. Anyways! Enjoy! TW: **This story focuses on the physical abuse between the Reader character and her boyfriend. I am not responsible for the content you consume so please be advised. There are explanations of abuse, but no explicit scenes of abuse occurring.** abuse (physical and emotional), hurt/comfort, Harvey being very sweet, mention of painkillers but I'm talking like 2 tylenol or ibuprofen or something Word Count: 2.5k

You run across the street to the Pearson Hardman office building, just about soaking wet. All that protected you from the rain was a newspaper you bought right outside your building. You prayed all the way to work that it wouldn’t just completely break under the force of the rain. You had spent almost thirty minutes on makeup, twenty five more minutes than you usually spend. To go along with that, you couldn’t find an available taxi because of the rain. Not even the pain in your shoulder had let up, despite taking a couple painkillers.

Your boyfriend had gotten a bit angry with you last night after you went out socializing with some friends. It wasn’t your smartest move. You knew he didn’t like you to hang out with your guy friends without his permission. But you didn’t think it was that big of a deal. The feelings of your heart conflicted with your rational mind. All you know is you love him and he loves you. Which is why he gets upset when you go out without him. But then why wouldn’t he make time to go out with me alone?

You shook those thoughts out of your head as you swiped your card into the building. You took the time in the elevator to dry off with your sweater. Which was consequently soaked. Curses rang out in the elevator- cursing the sweater, the weather, your boyfriend, you didn’t know.

You sat down in the chair next to Donna and exchanged greetings. “How are we looking today, Donna?” You smiled as you saw Harvey sitting in his office. The only person getting into the office earlier than him was Donna.

“Full day as always. Oh, Jonathan from accounting asked for Harvey to look at his expense accounts for this last month. He won’t of course- but as long as they get to Harvey’s desk, Jon won’t speak another word about it until the next thousand dollar dinner with a client.” Donna goes back to typing rapidly on her computer. 

“And then the cycle continues,” You let out a hearty laugh for the first time since you left work last Friday. “I’ll get on that. Anything else while I’m in accounting?” You gather up different file folders that you need to take down to accounting anyway.

“Nope, say hi to Mr. Expense Forms for me!”

“Will do, Donna.”

You quickly walk to the elevator and down to the accounting department for Jonathan's expense reports. Harvey is still in the same spot as he was when you left as you open the door to his office. You make sure to open the door with your left arm, with the papers in your right. 

“I got a delivery for Harvey Specter from Mr. Jonathan Expense Forms from accounting. Fuming as always. You might want to lay off the fancy dinners for a week.” Harvey rolls his eyes at the notion.

“Sweetheart, you think I’m that good at my job that I don’t need fancy dinners to win over clients? You must think very highly of me.” He chuckles smugly as he writes words you can barely read on a legal pad. You deal his snark back just the same.

“Of course I think you’re good. You’re my boss, I’m legally obligated to think so.” You both laugh until you reach with your right arm to set the folder on his desk. You let out a noise just loud enough for Harvey to be concerned. 

“What happened to your shoulder?” 

“It’s nothing, I just fell.”

At this, Harvey looks up. You were never one to be clumsy, let alone fall so hard as to hurt yourself. As Harvey’s eyes assess you, he notices a large dark bruise on your wrist- both your wrists in fact. 

His silence worries you, and you follow his eyes to your wrists. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry-” You quickly try to pull your sleeves down to cover the spots. Remnants of rain water drove through the foundation. 

Harvey takes a few deep breaths as you stand there in shocked silence. For the smallest second, you think he’s going to hurt you. Rationally, you know the notion is absurd, but the mind that has dealt with angry men keeps you silent.

Harvey finally speaks after taking a minute to process the information he’s pieced together.

“Who did this to you?”

You’re taken aback, that small part of your mind thinking he would call you unprofessional or weak. “My... My boyfriend. He just gets a little annoyed with me sometimes. It’s truly nothing. I’ll do better to cover them-”

“A good man being annoyed never results in bruises. How did this happen?” Harvey has to go against every part of his nature not to rush out and ask Donna everything about this man, then subsequently find him. He’s thinking that those boxing lessons are actually going to come in handy.

But he knows he can’t. He knows that if he moves like that, or moves at all, he’d terrify you. He can see how your eyes dart around. Towards the door, towards your wrists, and towards himself. He didn’t know how you would react if he even stood up.

“I fell into a bookshelf. He pushed me a bit and I lost balance.”

“You mean he shoved you into a shelf.”

The way Harvey phrased it made you feel uncomfortable. “That’s a bit harsh, but you could phrase it like that.”

He stared at you in disbelief. This wasn’t the woman he saw on a daily basis. The woman that dealt with almost every slimy man that came into the building. The woman that he had slowly fallen in love with since she arrived here.

The woman before him seemed like a shell of the woman he met three years ago, and he couldn’t help what came out of his mouth next.

“Do you know how you sound? You should never be bruised, shoved, or red eyed if you’re in love. That’s simply not how it is, and I’m sorry you’ve been made to believe that.”

At this, the dam broke.

Tears had been pooling in your eyes from the moment Harvey saw the bruises. But at his last words you let out a pained sob. It hadn't sunk in just how bad it had gotten. Your boyfriend had done this a few times before, but had never gotten so harsh until last night.

All the pain from the last year had come rushing in, and you were about to break right in front of your boss. Heavy tears started to run down your face. It was at this moment you were glad you never wore heavy makeup. You did your best to stifle the sounds and cries that tried to escape, but outside, Donna still saw through the glass. 

Immediately, Donna calmly walks in. She takes one look at you, then Harvey. With a single nod from Harvey, Donna lets out a quiet "Car is on its way."

Unfortunately that made you feel even worse. "I'm so sorry, Harvey. This is completely unprofessional-"

Harvey finally stands up and walks towards you. At this point, what you need isn't space. He places his hands as gentle as can be on your arms to coax you to look at him. And you do, but looking at your red eyes and wet tears streaming down your face up close make his heart break even more.

"I don't give a shit about professionalism. Donna is getting the car and my driver is going to take you home-"

"No! He's there, he's been trying to move in with me and doesn't have a day job. He's just been staying there..." Your sentence trails off as you’re trying to process what you’re actually saying. Are you really doing this?

"Okay, then my driver will take you to my place and give you a key. We'll talk about the next steps when I get home. I'll get you some things from your apartment, okay?"

The tears were gone purely by witnessing Harvey be so calm, and you nodded slowly. All you could do was follow the sound of his voice. Like a lighthouse in a raging storm. 

Donna entered the room quietly, "The car is here."

"Good. Donna will walk you out." You nodded, not saying a word. You turn to walk out of Harvey’s office, but he reaches out for your hand. “You’ll get through this, alright?”

You give a small smile. However, your mental state did not display the same sentiment. Your mind was reeling from what had happened in the last- what, 10? 15 minutes? 

Donna leads you out the back staircase as a gesture of mercy. She knew that you didn’t want anyone else to see you like this. Harvey wasn’t exaggerating his view of you. Everyone in the office saw you as an unbreakable force.

Harvey’s driver opens the door for you. You look back at Donna, who is smiling sweetly. “I promise, Harvey will take care of everything. The only thing you need to worry about is taking care of yourself, okay?” 

You gave Donna the same small smile you gave Harvey. You were at the edge of your sanity at this point. Now that you’ve gone through all the sadness and shock of the... situation, you were embarrassed. Angry. Angry at yourself for letting a man put his hands on you for a full year. Angry at Donna for knowing exactly what was going on and getting exactly what was needed. Angry at Harvey Specter for being so goddamn perfect that you couldn’t help the butterflies that always arose in your stomach whenever he talked to you. Angry at the world for putting you in this position.

Wordlessly, you exited the car once it stopped in front of Harvey’s building. You reached his apartment without thought. You took your heels off, and put your purse on the closest counter you saw. 

And you cried.

_______

 Harvey exited the elevator with a large box held in his hands. It was purely full of necessities. A week's change of clothes, toiletries, some books he knew were your favorite. Everything else he could buy new. He looked down and saw your heels on the ground and your purse on the table beside him.

Once he set down the box on the floor, he saw you. You looked even worse than at the office. Your beautiful hair was frizzy and pulled in odd directions. The worst part was the absolutely destroyed look on your face. Eyeshadow and liner were smudged on your red tinged eyes which stared into space in front of you. 

Harvey sees your body stiff as a board on the edge of his soft couch, seemingly ready to run at a moment’s thought. “Have you been sitting like that since you got here?”

“No. I’ve only just sat down.” Your arms leaned on your knees, hands folded in your lap.

Harvey tries to ignore the hoarse sound in your voice. “Well, you can relax a bit if you’d like. I got you some more comfortable clothes if you want to change.”

Your brows furrow as you think. “Did he give you any problems?” For the first time since he came in the front door you look at him. He was visibly more relaxed than he is in the office. His suit jacket was tossed on the coat rake next to the door and the sleeves of his dress shirt were neatly folded up his arms. He walked towards the kitchen to the freezer. 

“He didn’t get a chance. Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you again.” He walks over to where you’re sitting on the couch and sets down an ice pack. His shirt was obviously wrinkled, and his knuckles held the slightest tinge of blue. The thought of Harvey hurting someone made your stomach flip, but you didn’t feel quite so bad for the receiving party.

“Let’s get some ice on that shoulder, huh?” He could tell you were still sensitive, but it felt more subdued than the scared woman he saw in his office.

You nodded in agreement about the ice pack. You hadn’t really stopped to think about it until he said something. As you unbutton your shirt to reveal your nude colored undershirt, you wince. The swelling of the bruise had gotten worse since you hadn’t taken anything for it. You hadn’t noticed the pain when you were crying, but now it just felt terrible.

“Let me help.” You give Harvey a look when the words come out of his mouth, a glimpse of that fiery woman that he knows. But you sigh and relent. You managed to undo a few buttons at least before Harvey steps in.

He unbuttons your shirt down to your stomach and pulls the shoulder of the shirt down just enough to slide the ice pack onto the skin. As soon as it’s securely placed between you and the couch, you let out a groan. In relief or pain, you don’t know. All you knew was that the cold felt absolutely wonderful on your swelled skin.

You and Harvey stay like that for a while, the exact amount of minutes you don’t know and neither does he. Harvey is the first to speak.

“You’ve been awfully quiet.” 

You give him a look that says “I wonder why, dumbass.” But you refrain. “I’m thinking.”

He finally sits next to you on the couch and reaches his arm to grasp the top of the cushions. In his mind he excuses it as getting more comfortable, but the opportunity to touch you is also a bonus. Harvey was not a man of wise words for comfort, moreso actions and touch.

In a singsong voice, trying to lighten the mood, he says “Whatcha thinkin’ about.”

You smile a true smile and look towards him. Then the thoughts in your head come rushing in and the smile falls from your face. “I’m thinking about how I’ve been with him for so long that I don’t know how to live my life without him. So much of my life has been conforming to his ideals, his feelings. How am I supposed to love and be loved after him? After I’ve split my soul into so many pieces that I’ve lost track of where they all are?”

Both of you sit in silence, not sure what to say.

“I was definitely not expecting that.”

“I am... extremely sorry I said that, please just ignore-”

“I wasn’t finished, sweetheart. Firstly, I think you should see a professional about these feelings. But in the meantime, we can work on that together.” Harvey smiles, but then falters. “I- I mean, if you want. I’m not trying to get in your pants, I promise, all I’m saying is that I’m here whenever and you can stay as long as you want and-”

“Thank you, Harvey. It means a lot to hear you say that.” You laugh at the sight of a flustered Harvey Specter.

“To paraphrase, you're not alone in this. Not ever.”

You reach over with your good arm and pull him into as much of a hug as you can muster. In return, he pulls you close. Neither of you ever want to leave.

[castrian-amore]

Just want you to feel something

Ch 2/? | Word Count: 5125

Trigger Warnings Implied trauma, implied depersonalization

Chapter 2: Savor every moment, even hungover

The phone was ringing and his head was pounding and he felt like at any moment in time his head could just split open. He groaned, reaching to answer his phone. He had already notified the office he wouldn’t be in today. He was the one in charge and never took off days normally anyways, he deserved this. A drunken haze last night and barely any memory of what had transpired filling his brain. Nope. Nothing. 

He puts the phone to his ear after he swipes. 

“Tim Drake speaking,”he answers flawlessly. 

“Oh my god you’re so fucked!”Stephanie’s voice rang over the phone. 

“What are you talking about Steph, and speak quieter please,”He covers his eyes as he turns down the volume on his phone. 

“Ohhohoho you were shitfaced last night weren’t you?” She was giddy. Tim didn’t know what for. 

“Maybe…” 

“Be over in 15 minutes, do not leave your apartment bitch boy,”She threatens cackling on the other end of the phone. 

“Okay sure. Don’t care. Bring me coffee and we’ll call it even.” 

“You paying?”She mused. 

“Yeah sure, I don’t care.” He groans. “Just come in. I do not want to fuck with the doormen right now.” 

“Ha! Yeah, I sure can guess you don’t you Hungover baby.” She is laughing before hanging up the phone. Tim Drake had a lot on his shoulders so what if he got drunk one night? Stephanie was a good friend. Her father wasn’t the best to her and during his younger days of sneaking out to take photos around Gotham they’d become really good friends, even dating for a little while. The dating was a short lived thing realizing that while they both found they were bisexual… they also both had a tendency to leave towards their own genders. It was a fun experience and he was very glad they could remain extremely good friends after it. He still loved her just in a very platonic sense, but even with the mutual past breakup it didn’t stop the occasional tabloid trying to talk up some stupid story about their relationship. 

Especially when Steph joined a dance team and they got really good. Booking gigs with famous artists and producing their own shows and things. Tim was glad she was getting the recognition for her work but it was still concerning nonetheless. Mostly in how the media saw them. The media weren’t exactly the most kind people especially to those in the limelight. Unfortunately for him because he was CEO and a nepo baby of a company most people assumed he was a pompous asshole. He was an asshole but a pompous one? He only was like that to blend into the crowds at the fancy stupid galas and things.

He peeled himself out of bed feeling the upright motions destroy his stomach as he bolts to the bathroom retching over the toilet with a groan. Fuck the cold felt so good. Maybe he had been a little more fucked up than he thought last night. He laid there on the floor for a little bit. Oh there was still definitely alcohol in his system, oh yeah this was gonna suck. He doesn’t know how long he lays there in his boxers on the bathroom floor. He does remember Stephanie is coming over and gets himself off the floor slowly to get himself at least semi-dressed. Wearing a long sleeve cozy sweater with pajama pants and some slippers in the shapes of ducks. He forces himself to take some ibuprofen and tylenol for his killer headache debating on something stronger. He takes his usual medicine he needs for the day and grabs some water figuring he wasn’t that stupid. 

He knew he needed to get something to eat too. He was already opening the app for doordash and figuring he could order steph and him some greasy ass food. She needed the calories for dancing, that was how that worked right? He ordered the food and took a few steps before his body revolted against him and he bolted towards the bathroom retching up again. Fuck man. He sat there for another moment closing the lid as he lay his head on it. He hears the front door open and he really can’t bother himself to get up. 

“Timbers!”Steph’s voice calls out as the smell of coffee drifts from the living room. 

“In here.”He calls out trying to pick himself off the floor, nope, a bad idea. When he finishes emptying the contents of his stomach a third time he gets up giving a small wave to her laughing in the doorway. 

“What the fuck Tim, if you’re gunna go drinking like that, bring someone with you!” She laughs but there was the undertones of her being more serious about what she’s talking about. Tim ignores them. Her hands are empty which means she probably just ditched the coffee in the room over. 

“I’m fine,"he mumbles, going to rinse his mouth out and brush his teeth. 

“Yeah sure you are,”she laughs and pulls out her phone. “Have you been on your phone yet?” 

“Huh? No, why?” She hands over her own phone and Tim takes it. He pauses. Feeling his face pale. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

Plastered on the page was a photo of a very heated kiss between him and another man. That in of itself isn’t the concerning part. Right? Maybe scandalous he was seen with a man but the title? 

“CEO of Drake Enterprises Timothy Drake dating lead singer of YJ?!?” 

Tim wants to cry reading it. The leader of YJ, Young Justice? THE Young Justice. Number one band in the charts for 5 weeks straight for their hit single “You Were a dream?”. Tim admittedly did not recognize the man from the photo but maybe it was the angle or the fact they were both so intimately kissing. Tim had a grip on his shirt and the others hands were resting around his waist pulling them way too close together. 

“This is wrong. They can’t--” 

“They did,”Steph confirms.

“Fuck me,”Tim groans. Well that sobered him up quick as he sat on the toilet seat. Steph rubbing his back a little bit. 

“I know this is awful but also… this is so fucking funny,”Steph can’t help but laugh. “Tim Drake dating a rockstar?!? Gasp! What a crime!” He laughs after her. It was a little funny. 

“Steph, this is serious.”He tries to gain his composure. 

“What did he even do to seduce you like that? You were so obviously shit faced,”she’s laughing again. “Did he-- did he do the whole..” She pauses to dramatically and sensually run a hand through her long blonde hair and bite her lip ‘seductively’. “Did he do that?” She grins.

“Fuck I don’t know Steph. I don’t even remember this happening!”Tim’s face in his hands holding back laughter. 

“Oh so then all he had to do was the whole,”She leans against the wall and she does the douche-iest pose. One hand on the wall the other on her hip. “Sup baby?’ Tim laughs again. 

“Steph, this is serious!”He tries again. 

“And it happened!”She retaliates. “You were drunk! Drunk people do stupid shit all the time!” 

“Drunk people who are not in charge of whole corporations whose sales could collapse under the weight of a bad reputation!” He counters. She kneels in front of him, peeling his hands from his face. 

“Come on. We’re grabbing the coffee and water and getting blankets.We’re gonna have a movie day,”She smirks.”And talk about the problem but like movie day first and foremost.” 

“You wanna mooch off my fancy popcorn,”he retaliates. She mimics a gasp. 

“What? Moi? Never!” She dramatically flips her hair and stalks out the room dragging Tim with her. Tim’s mind is already reeling about what to do. There were so many options. Too many options, none of them good.

“I already ordered us doordash.”He admits as they sit down and Steph moves to drape a blanket sitting on the couch over him grabbing him a glass of water and the coffee. 

“Oh how I wish I could marry you for your money,”She sighs wistfully and Tim snorts. 

“If only. You act like you’re not a famous dancer?” She does a fake gasp. 

“Are you saying I’m rich Mr. Drake?” 

“I’m saying you’re pretty well off as far as careers go.”Tim replies never have been happier to have sipped his coffee borderline moaning at the taste. 

“Yeah well at least I spent my money on fun stuff. You don’t! Your apartment barely looks lived in Tim. It’s white and grey and so fucking boring,”she dramatically drapes herself over him. He barely had time to move his coffee so she didn’t knock it out of his hand. 

Tim wished he could say his place was incredibly personalized but the fact of the matter was that Steph complained about how impersonal it was constantly. She wasn’t wrong? He had some photos of when he was younger blown up and put in frames on the walls but in terms of personality of the house most of it was a sleek modern look with minimal decorations. He did have some color. His bed sheets and accent pieces were a beautiful crimson red and sometimes golden designed pieces. 

“Send me that article,”Tim says, changing the pace again. 

“It’s some desperate new years bullshit Tim, you know that!” 

“But the people don’t Steph! I need to do damage control before—“he cuts himself off panic already threatening at the edge of his voice and she goes quiet. Lips pursed quietly. 

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” She crosses her arms almost pouting. Not exactly pouting. Tim knew that look. He knew she was hiding a simmering anger underneath her cross expression. If it wasn’t her mutual respect for Tim then she would have long ago betrayed his trust and done something about it. They were two peas in a pod. Tim had to make his parents proud after all and a scandal would do him no good when his parents returned for a late holiday with him at their manor. He went out of the city quite frequently to see them. Tim lived in New York and they lived in Gotham. It wasn’t a great drive but since he didn’t have to make the drive himself it made things a little easier. 

“CEO of Drake Enterprises Timothy Drake dating lead singer of YJ?!?”  By Vicki Vale “Last night as the New Year’s parties raged it seems other things were happening as well. The current co-head of Drake Enterprises was seen in his current resident city of New York attending a party hosted by the infamous Lex Luthor. Our own Gotham born Timothy Jackson Drake has been the most eligible bachelor for quite some time now only rivaled by Bruce Wayne’s son Richard Greyson, and Bruce himself,  is it time for Timothy to finally be entering the dating pool yet again?  The photo shows Kon, head of the band Young Justice(also known more commonly as YJ), engaging Tim in a fiery kiss on the balcony of the establishment just as the ball dropped. So are the two of them in an established relationship? Or are the two simply reaching for the nearest scandal to push their mutual careers into further spotlight?  Neither have come out with a comment yet, but we expect a statement soon. So how do you feel Gothamites? Are you here for Tim getting into a relationship with the lead singer of a rock band? Or do you think this is a scandal waiting to happen?”

The photo is painfully good quality. He hates it. They look good, but he hates it. He also knows it’s likely not the only one. The only reason he was at that party was because of Lex Luthor and his stupid insistence on getting Tim to work for him. Hence the invitation to one of the most exclusive high society events. An event filled with too many drugs, too much alcohol and lots of sex and rock n roll. There were other bands there too, Tim was just one to prefer rock over any other genre of music. He occasionally went to shows but mostly not. Too many chances for things to go awry. Tim admittedly did not like to get drunk that often, mostly because he refuses to become as bad as his father. Not to say his family was bad at all but their relationship was a rather formal one. He didn’t mind that much, rather focusing on work anyways. They always were understanding of his love of his work. 

Either way, he needed to get a hold of this scandal before things got too out of hand. He looks at his phone seeing a text from the head of his PR team. Normally Tim did all his PR but he did pay one of the girls in HR who also had a degree in it to double check his methods and help make sure he was on top of staying relevant for the company, magazines, interviews, etc. Madi was a sweet girl and he was glad he could give her extra cash for it. It was an official part of her duties. She was considered part time HR and part time PR. His parents paid for a whole PR team for the company as a whole but as he was the head and wanted their influence on his image to be a bit more limited he paid her out of his own pocket rather than the companies. He felt bad trying to use money that could be given back to the employees just to make himself look good. 

Madi 

You realize how bad this is going to look right?

Tim

I know please do not remind me. I’ve seen it. 

… 

Any ideas?

Madi

Damage control and reaching out to his PR person. See if they’ve reached out to you, but I’ll do the same on my end. We gotta get a wrap on this quick Mr. Drake.

Tim

For the millionth time please call me Tim, I swear Madi. 

Madi

You still hungover?

Tim

The news helped sober me up but Stephanie is over here helping me out

Madi

Good, don’t go outside. Most of the paparazzi are pricks and while they might not have a true interest in you as a CEO they do have an interest in you giving them a story on you and Kon.

Tim

Yeah Steph mentioned me staying inside. I ordered doordash so neither of us have to go out. Maybe I should just go and work from home for a few days.

Madi

Not a bad idea. I would stay relatively close though, Kon likely will be in town for a bit longer especially if he’s also interested in fixing this PR disaster.

Tim

I was about to say it’s not that bad… but yes it is

Madi

Honestly, it’s less bad for him than it is for you. You’re young but you’re highly respected. I don’t want you losing the bare respect you forced out the other higher ups. Just because the younger ones like you, we both know those board members are vying to get you out and get you father back.

Tim

Tell me about it. The shit I get from the board and the shareholders is insane. 

Madi

Anyways, keep an eye on your email. I’ll get a plan together and send it to you

Tim

You’re the best Mads

Madi

I know

“Madi have any idea yet?”Steph is peaking over his shoulder. 

“She just says to keep an eye on my email because since she’s not incredibly publicly my PR person they’re more likely to reach out to me directly,”He groans as he turns and flops his head on her lap. 

“Steph I have never been more thankful to have planned to be at that Pride event a while ago,”He mumbles. “Or else this would be so much worse.” She snorts, running her hands through his hair. 

“Oh yeah it would be so so much worse if you weren’t already toeing that fine line of being gay but also not!” She teased with a little malice in her voice, but the malice was obviously not directed at him. More than likely aimed at the other board members who would not-so-discreetly sling slurs and other words in his direction under their breath. Tim was smart though, he liked to think at the very least he was. He tried his best to make everyone happy and the board members could hardly be upset with him over the last few years TIm had been in charge. He was sure they were upset because of how young Tim was and he knew that. They had spent their whole lives getting to this point and Tim had finished his college degree by the time he was out of high school and got put into the position after he outsmarted some people and manipulated his way to the top. Tim was aware though, for a nepo baby. 

As someone born and raised in Gotham and all too painfully aware of the messed up systems of that place he was aware of how broken the world was. He knew about the rampant police corruption and the concerns over the safety and wellbeing of the city with one of the highest crime rates in the United States. He had seen what had happened to those in the system and went out of his way to help and volunteer. His parents praised him for the good PR he was giving them but all he could think about was that he could do something to help people with the money he was given. 

His parents weren’t exactly around enough to enforce what he did with his own money. He teamed up with the Wayne foundation to host charity events, fundraisers, galas, etc to give back to the community. 

Reminded him of his connections. Maybe he should meet with Bruce for lunch or his next free day… see just how the other could help him. Bruce had immense experience with bad press. He was notoriously good at splitting the story and diffusing the situations. He closed his eyes so thankful he had Steph with him right now. 

“Thanks Steph.”He said a bit more genuinely. 

“Don’t thank me yet hoe,”she retaliated. 

“You literally came over to check on me,”He retaliated, opening his eyes to look up at her. 

“Me? Never. How could I not save your bitch ass,”She had a grin across her face. “Plus you always buy me food, it's a win-win situation.”

“Aww Steph you care that much about me,”He began to tease.

“You are in a  perfect smothering position--”

“Are you going to admit that you love me next?”He continued. “Because I love you too and--” She jokingly shoved a pillow over his face and the two began to get into a fight as he rolled off her lap and she practically pounced on top of him hitting him with the pillow. 

“Stop being cheesy!”She yelled as he was laughing incredibly hard. 

“But you wove me! And Care about me! And you’re my best fwiend!” He has his arms up trying to stop her from hitting him. She is snickering and grabs his arm moving to pin it behind his back. 

“Ah fuck--”he hisses out as she smirks. 

“Say uncle and I’ll let go!”She exclaims wearing a shit eating grin. 

“Gah!- Fucking hell Steph.” She pulls back on his arm, applying more force. “Shit-uncle!” She lays down next to him on the floor as he rolls onto his back. The two of them were breathing heavily for a moment before looking at each other and laughing brightly. They stay like that for a moment after Stephanie's hand finds his. She was the shit head type, not one for sentimentality which is part of why Tim enjoys her company so much.  She can make light of any situation and can and will call him out on his bullshit as long as she is under the impression she’ll do the same for her. 

“You should come with me to rehearsal one day. Or like just to the studio. Get you back to working out more.”She comments. 

‘I work out just fine!” 

“Yeah but what about your dreams? You can take some pictures of me and then join me for a little bit!”She beams, sitting up a little bit to look down at him. “We both know you have a killer camera and some wild skills. Use them. You always talk about wanting more photos of me dancing.” 

“Yeah but--” 

“Nah nope you don’t get to give some sort of bullshit excuse,”she shakes her head. 

“Steph, I haven't stepped foot in a dance studio since I was 16, and that was just a way for me to get exercise. My parents thought they were formal ballroom classes.” He comments. Tim only ever danced casually. Even then he had never been as good as Steph but there was a freeingness to it. It was fun! He could never do it publicly. The corporate scene would absolutely obliterate him if they ever found out he used to dance hop hop. Formal ballroom dancing was something he also had training in and also was looked highly upon. 

“If you pick up dancing it will help you get back on a board~”She teased. 

“How!”

“Hand and Eye coordination,”she teased, standing up and offering him her hand. He took it standing up. It was still almost too much and he holds out his hand thinking he’s gonna throw up. He stops and waves that he’s good. 

“You just want to watch me fail horribly,”He rolls his eyes. 

“Just dress cool, wear a hat and mask and you’re good no one will know!”Steph insists. “Like what you do when you go skateboarding.” 

“I don’t skateboard anymore Steph.” 

“Just like you don’t dance anymore!!! Look you--”she stops as there was a knock at his door and grumbles something under her breath before going to answer. She comes back in with the food as Tim joins her at the breakfast bar and sits down next to her as they pull out the food separating it between them. She’s already shoving her face as she continues. 

“As I was saying--”She begins shoving lo mein into her mouth. He nods, raising an eyebrow as she speaks with her mouth full.” You don’t do anything you like anymore. It’s just all work!” 

“Because work is important!”

“You’re twenty-fucking-two Tim! Live a little for the love of god! You’re young and yet you so rarely go to parties! You can do both. You don’t even have the problems most corporate people have. Most of them have drug or alcohol addictions or go skiing and have lavish vacations. YOU DON’T DO THAT TIM!”She exclaims the second her mouth is no longer full. He groans. 

“I just think you need some dick honestly,”he almost chokes on his food as she says that. 

“What????”He looks at her wide eyed. She smirks looking at him leaning in real close. 

“I said I think you need some dick. Timothy, you’re still a fucking virgin aren’t you?” 

“I-I no what- why would you think that?!”His face is a bright red immediately showing more interest in his food than her. 

“HAH I WAS RIGHT!” 

“Can you please not yell,”he begs. 

“Sorry,”She still is wearing that familiar grin. 

“So what if you’re right! I can’t just go out and like, sleep with people and shit! Yeah brb let me go and print out an NDA for you to sign so we can sleep together real quick,”he rolls his eyes looking at her. “Besides… I want it to be something special. Love? I don’t know. I just--” 

“Okay I’ve made a decision. You’re not getting a choice now. We’re finding you a hobby. An actual hobby. You’re coming to the studio with me and I’ll reteach you some stuff. See how much you remember. Get you out of this stuffy apartment and your stuffy office.” 

“I’m really good at Golf?”he offers. 

“No, you just pretend like you are so you can go golfing with your coworkers. We both know you hate that sport…” 

“It’s so boring steph,”he finally caves. “I don’t even think I have any dance clothes anymore Steph!” 

“I’ll lend you some of mine. You never did grow,”she smirks. 

“Oh shut the fuck up,”he groans going for his phone and opening it up absentmindedly going to sort his emails.  He swipes to delete a bunch going in and flagging the ones related to work things so he could go back in and check them. 

He pauses. 

“Oh fuck--” 

“What?” Steph leans over on her stool before laughing. “Well that was fast.” 

“Such is the problem of social media,”he groans out opening the email as he shoves more of his own lo mein into his mouth. He quiets as he reads through it. 

“Dear Mr. Timothy Drake, 

My name is Cissie King-Jones, I am the head of PR for the band YJ(Young Justice), and as I am sure you are aware, you and my client, Kon, shared a kiss on New Years Eve last night. We could not locate a particular PR team to reach out to, to discuss his issue. We will be in town for another two weeks due to Kon visiting his father and the rest of the band wishing for a small break. Is there a potential time outside of your work hours that we could meet to discuss the events of the past and how to potentially move forwards without damaging either of your careers? Looking forward to a response.  

Best Regards, 

Cissie King-Jones

Head of PR”

He groans and Steph is laughing so hard and Tim, without looking, pushes her off the stool. She yelps but continues to laugh long after she’s fallen off the stool. 

“Are you enjoying my misery?” 

“Yes,”she gasps out. He flips her off. 

“Fuck I should respond to this.” 

“Yeah you should,”she wiggles her eyebrows, finally getting up from the floor and dusting herself off. 

Tim

Got the email, are you free tomorrow for an extended lunch?

Madi

Well technically I’m busy but if you CEO requests my presence then no one can say anything

Tim

Emailing your supervisor right now, we’re going to go to have a meeting with Kon and their PR head Cissie King.

Madi

Where are we going to have it? Your work seems too blatant. 

Tim

I don’t know yet but how about I forward you her email so you can reach out. I have a few ideas myself but I hate the ideas….

Madi

Well spill then

“Yeah spill Tim..”Steph smirks, reading over his shoulder, again. He pushes her away playfully. 

Tim

No thanks, I’m sure you’ve already thought of it anyways and I’d really rather keep it as a last resort.

Madi

Send me that email Tim ;P

Tim

On it

Tim did as he was told as he forwards her the email. 

“Where do u want to meet?”Steph instead asks. “It needs to be a neutral location somewhere the paparazzi won’t freak out about you going.”  He groans thinking. 

“I have a few ideas,”he admits. 

“Oh?”She leans her arm on the other’s shoulder. “Do tell.” 

“Lex is Kon’s biological dad…” 

“Oh dammit,”She groans. “But he’s so unsettling.” 

“You’re not even going to be there!” Tim exclaims. 

“Yeah but I am going to be there in spirit once you meet me at the studio after the meeting,”She flicks his cheeks and he gives an exasperated sigh. 

“Look, it won’t look weird for me to go there and it’s Kon’s dad's work so like it won’t be awful. I’m there for a meeting, nothing else! Plus Luthor values his security of his building over anything else. He would riot if someone else could get into his systems.” 

“Someone else?”Steph raises her eyebrow at him. 

“He said something stupid…”Tim begins.

“DID YOU--”She remembered his headache. “Did you hack Lex corp?!?!?!”

“When I was 18 yeah, why do you think he’s been trying to get me to ditch my parents,”he snorts. “Him and the Al Ghul's.” 

“And the Waynes,”Steph reminds but Tim could only roll his eyes at that one. 

“Yeah, as if. Bruce sees me as a friend. He’s my mentor, nothing else.” 

“Just saying… if the Drake’s need to go there are several companies you can sell it off too.” 

“Yeah let me just sell the Drake family name underneath my parents name,”sarcasm is dripping from his voice as he finishes his food. He texts Madi the idea and she agrees it’s probably for the best. 

“You could,”Steph reminds.

“But I won’t~”He purrs out. “If I agree to go to the studio with you after will you leave me alone about it?” 

“Yes!” 

“Then fine just bring some clothes by the office and I’ll change before we leave.”he nods. 

“Fuck yeah!”She exclaims. “None of the windows lead to the street level too!”

“Wonderful.” 

“So when will the meeting be? I need to text to see when the next free space is?” Tim shrugs. 

“I left it up to Madi.” 

“You giving that girl so much of your public image power is terrifying for a control freak like you,”She scoffs, going to toss her trash and fishing a soda from his fridge. The particular kind only being in there because of her penchant to just stop by when he’s out of town and what not.  

“Let’s just put on a movie please,”Tim begs quietly and she leaves him alone for a little while as they crowd on the couch cuddled close to each other. “I’m grateful you’re my friend steph.” 

His head is on her shoulder tucked under the covers and she playfully lays her head on his a little aggressively. 

“Right back at you Timbo,’she smiles. It’s as they get halfway into the second movie when he gets a text from Madi. 

Madi

Tomorrow at 1pm Lex Corp headquarters

Tim

Gotcha

He shows Steph the phone and she nods. 

God he can’t wait to have this meeting and let the scandal be over with. 

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[z0mbieb0ybyersblog]

ER on Christmas

pairing: Matt Murdock x GN!Reader

warnings: None!

word count: 774

notes:

I don't know any medical terms, so if any doctor things I wrote sound terrible, I'm genuinely sorry.

I also wrote this in 2021 but I thought I’d bring it back and post it here

originally posted on Wattpad

It was Christmas Eve, and of course, you had the night shift in the emergency room; you hated working holiday shifts because every time you did the only people who were to come in were drunks who got into fights and people with cooking burns.

So far, it was a slow night with some drunks here and there and no cooking burns; people must be eating out instead of cooking.

You were admiring the Christmas tree the hospital set up in the waiting room when two men came in; one had an arm slung over the others shoulder while his other hand held a guide cane, "Foggy, I'm fine." the one with the cane said as they arrived at the check-in desk. "Matt, you're not okay. I found you on the floor of your apartment-" The man supposedly named Foggy whispered yelled as you cut him off. "Hello, how may I help you two today?" you asked them. "Yeah, hi, I uh was wondering if you could give my friend Matt here a check-up. He uh-" "Fell. I fell in the apartment and he thinks I got hurt." Matt said, cutting Foggy off. "Okay, follow me, and I'll make you sure you didn't bruise or sprain anything," you say to Matt, offering a soft smile to his friend, who looked angry but also nervous for his friend.

Matt denied the wheelchair you offered him, so Foggy helped him make his way to an exam room because he could not put his weight onto one of his legs; Matt sat down on the table "okay, um, ill be right outside, okay, Matt." Foggy said as he left the room, leaving you and Matt, "Okay, can you take your shirt off so I can check to make sure nothing happened to your shoulders and ribs." You requested, "Alright." He said, unbuttoning his white button-up, revealing his upper body.

As you were checking his shoulders for and sprains, you decided to make conversation with him so it'd be less awkward than just examing this poor man in silence, "So Matt, you got a last name?" You asked, moving your hands down more near his collarbone. "Murdock." He answered, not paying any mind to your desperate act of trying to make conversation because he didn't even want to be there in the emergency room at almost midnight on Christmas eve. "Alrighty, Matt Murdock I’m going to exam your ribs now, okay," "You're wasting your time; I'm fine." He uttered, and you sighed, "Listen, I know you don't want to be here, but your friend out there thinks you might've hurt yourself, so let me just finish up examing your ribs, and I'll let you go and just tell your friend you need pain killers and rest, okay?" You said continuing with the exam, and he didn't reply.

After a couple of seconds, Matt spoke up, "You know what, I never did get your name." He asked, "Y/N, my name is Y/N," you answered. "So Y/N, do you have any plans for Christmas?" "Nope, no plans. What about you?" You asked, moving your focus to his other side. "I have no plans either." He replied.

You were happy, to say the least, that he started talking to you, but your happiness soon faded when you touched a specific spot on his side, Matt flinched at the pain and you could tell something was wrong. "Matt, were you punched?" You asked, "Uh, yeah. I sorta got mugged; they probably thought I was an easier target because I'm blind." he responded, "Matt, you should've told me this earlier." you sighed, "I hoped you at least showed them whos boss." you joked, and Matt laughed "I managed to get a few hits in."

"Alright, Matt, you can put your shirt back on; you're not seriously hurt. You have a bruised side; I'm recommending you take ibuprofen and put ice on the area to relieve pain, and do not wrap anything tight around your ribs while they are healing." You recommended as Matt rebuttoned his shirt.

As you were about to leave the room, Matt spoke up, "Oh Y/N, if you're still not doing anything tomorrow for Christmas, would you like to come with me to dinner at the Panna II Garden in the East Village around six?" he asked, "Sure, I'd love to." you responded to him as you left the room.

Maybe working the night shift on Christmas eve wasn't such a bad thing.

[causeimasinger]

hello beloved #2 for the bed sharing prompts please<3

i'm so sorry this took a million years but here we go! click the title to read on ao3 or the fic continues under the cut!

i can't dare to dream about you anymore

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson 2k words of humor and fluff <3

“Steve,” Eddie whined from the bathroom in nothing but his boxers, steam billowing around him.

Steve waited a few moments for the rest of the sentence but it never came. He huffed a laugh to himself. At the very least, playing designated driver for nights out with his friends could never be described as boring; even here at the apartment getting Eddie and Robin showered and watered and finally in bed could be entertaining.

“Yes, Eddie?”

There was silence, then Eddie made a hmm noise. He heard a squeak. Steve furrowed his brows.

“Do you need help with something?”

“Nope,” Eddie declared, popping the p. “Come look!”

With a sigh, Steve pushed off the hallway wall he’d been leaning against, directly in the middle of the bathroom, to keep an ear out for Eddie, and Robin’s room, where he would hear if she fell out of bed or started ralphing (there was a little trashcan next to her bed, but Steve was nice enough to hold back her hair if necessary).

The bathroom door was already cracked, but Eddie liked his showers to match the temperatures in hell, so walking into the bathroom was like entering a sauna. He cleared his throat. Eddie was standing, hair still dripping a little, in his “comfy” boxers, toothbrush in his mouth. Steve was impressed; he hadn’t even had to tell Eddie to brush his teeth. Maybe he wasn’t as drunk as Robin was tonight.

Then, Eddie giggled, booped Steve on the nose, and pointed at the steamed-up mirror. Steve looked. There, in the middle of the mirror, was a large dick, with a helpful “penis” written next to it in Eddie’s hand, in case one might be confused by the image.

“Penis,” Steve deadpanned.

Eddie giggled again.

Steve took it back. He was definitely just as drunk as Robin was.

“Alright, dude, there’s some water and ibuprofen on your nightstand, and I scooted your trashcan close to the bed, you should be good to go.”

“My hero,” Eddie hummed, his hands crossing over his heart. “What shall I ever do to repay you?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Take care of me next time I’m drunk and you’re designated driver. That’s the whole point of the system.”

“Ah,” Eddie breathed, “so humble.”

Steve rolled his eyes again and left the bathroom. He went into his own room to grab his own pair of underwear and a t-shirt to sleep in, but when he came out the kitchen light was on. He sighed and left the hallway.

Eddie was standing in the middle of the kitchen, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

“Are you eating something?” Steve asked, appalled.

Eddie opened his mouth and garbled an incomprehensible word at him. Steve grimaced. Why the fuck did he have a crush on this idiot again?

“You’re disgusting,” Steve informed him, and Eddie gave him a morphed grin, the best his full mouth could do. “You literally just brushed your teeth.”

Eddie swallowed, eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, yeah.”

“Oh,” Steve repeated. “Yeah.”

Eddie let out a huff of laughter. “Oh well, I was hungry! Anyway, nighty-night, Stevie!”

Steve was genuinely unsure of whether or not Eddie was actually still drunk or if he was simply being Eddie, and he thought about it all the way to the bathroom, where he took his own nice, long shower.

He was drying his hair with his towel as he walked into his bedroom. He flipped the light on and jumped when he saw a figure already in his bed. The curls sticking out from beneath the blanket gave away which of his roommates had taken over his bed. He sighed, considered going into Eddie’s room and sleeping there, but then decided against it. He had the best mattress in the house (he’d brought it from his parent’s house when he moved out; it was probably the reason Eddie was in his bed in the first place) and he wasn’t giving it up that easily. With a resigned sigh, he turned on his lamp and flicked off the overhead light, leaving Eddie’s curls in a warm glow. Steve ignored the feeling of seeing Eddie in his bed and tried to act like this was a normal thing for two grown men to do.

He put a knee on the edge of the mattress and lifted the blanket. Little snores were already puffing out of Eddie’s nose.

“Move,” Steve said, keeping his voice quiet. Eddie didn’t stir. He huffed. “Eddie, move over or I’m coming in.”

Again, Eddie didn’t move from where he was sprawled in the middle of Steve’s bed. Steeling himself, Steve crawled into the bed, laying on his side because there was so little room. He tried to make himself comfortable but just kept brushing against Eddie’s warm skin and panicking, pulling back.

After a few stressful moments, he tentatively reached out and shoved at Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie was on his stomach, so he didn’t really budge. Steve pushed a little harder and then stopped when Eddie started mumbling.

“Wha’s happ-ning?”

“What’s happening is you’re in my bed,” Steve replied, losing his patience just a little.

“Okay,” Eddie sleepily said, his eyes never opening.

He still didn’t move.

“Eddie!”

Eddie finally opened his bleary eyes and Steve pushed through the warmth in his stomach at the sight. “Can you either get out of my bed or please scoot over?”

He paired the question with a little nudge to the shoulder. Eddie rolled, landing on his back on the other side of Steve’s bed. He watched, waiting to see if Eddie was going to get up or not. Eddie’s eyes closed.

“Guess we’re sharing, then,” he mumbled to himself, climbing in and making himself comfortable.

“Like your bed,” Eddie sleepily said, then yawned loudly. Steve cursed himself for finding it cute. “Smells good.”

Steve’s eyes widened and his body tensed, butterflies alive in his stomach. “Uh, what?”

But Eddie was already falling back into sleep, his snores starting only seconds later.

Steve sighed and reached over, turning off the lamp and blanketing the room in darkness. He closed his own eyes and tried not to think about Eddie right next to him so that he could fall asleep.

There was a light shining in Steve's eyes when he opened them, and the sleepiness clinging to him told him it had probably only been four or five hours since he'd fallen asleep. He wondered for a short moment what had woken him, but that was quickly answered by a rush of warm breath against the side of his neck, in the crook of his shoulder. A smile broke out on his face as memories of the night before hit him; himself, Robin, and Eddie at their favorite bar, his two friends drunk laughing in the car on the way back home, falling into his own bed with Eddie already asleep on the other side.

He turned his face toward the bed, toward Eddie, and he smiled at the bleary eyes and tangled hair next to him. The dredges of sleep seemed to still cling to Eddie's expression, and Steve licked his dry lips, breath catching in his throat as he watched Eddie's brown eyes dart down and follow the movement. Wordlessly, the corners of Eddie's lips began to curl up in a smile and before Steve could take stock of the fluttering in his gut, Eddie leaned forward, erasing the already small space between them, and pressed their lips together in a soft, chaste kiss. 

"Oh," Steve murmured, when Eddie pulled back. When he spoke again his voice sounded a little breathless. "That was– um, what was that for?"

"I– uh– fuck," Eddie mumbled breathlessly, blinking like he'd suddenly woken up. "I didn't even– I don't think I meant to do that."

'You didn't mean to?" Steve whispered, neither of their voices loud enough to leave the warm bed.

"No," Eddie replied, but that little smile hadn't left his face, and there was a brightness in his eyes that gave Steve a sense of security in this, whatever this was.

"Do you…" Steve trailed off, biting his lip. "Um– do you regret it?"

"Do you?"

"I didn't do anything," Steve said, a light laugh escaping his lips.

"Right," Eddie agreed, laughing himself. "Um. Yeah. Okay, um."

"Eddie." Steve laughed even harder. "You already aced the first kiss, you can stop being so nervous."

Eddie was quiet for a moment, glancing away and then glancing back. "Aced it, you say?"

Steve grinned. "Flying colors."

Eddie's cheeks were turning pink, and Steve couldn't stop smiling. "I didn't mean to."

"You said that already," Steve reminded him.

Eddie's cheeks turned even redder. "Jesus Christ, I have been dreaming about kissing you for years and I guess I just… I thought I was dreaming. So I kissed you, 'cause that's– that's what I'd do in my dreams."

"Wow," Steve huffed out a breath. "You sure know how to woo a guy, Munson."

Eddie's forehead landed on Steve's shoulder and he could hear Eddie groan playfully. He laughed and reached up, pushing a strand of Eddie's hair behind his ear.

"So are you willing to kiss me again, now that you know it's not a dream?"

"Oh my god," Eddie muttered, and now even his ears were red.

"Stop being all embarrassed and kiss me again, Eddie," Steve said, a little bit of a laugh in his voice. He felt more than heard Eddie sigh, and then a flash of movement, and then Eddie's lips were on his again. They fell into each other easily, trading soft kisses in the soft light of Steve's bedroom until–

"Not that this isn't great, because it is–" Eddie said, pulling away with a slick sound that just made Steve want to kiss him even more, "but I have to pee, like really bad right now."

Steve snorted loudly, shoving Eddie away and crawling out of the bed. "I guess I'll allow it."

Eddie giggled, fucking giggled, and pulled a strand of hair in front of his (still red) face. Steve thought it might be the cutest thing in the world, and he held a hand out for Eddie to take, pulling him not just out of the bed but right into Steve's own arms. Lanky arms wrapped around his waist and Steve turned his head, pressing a kiss to Eddie's temple.

"Okay," Eddie said, pulling out of Steve's arms, smile wide on his face. Steve grinned back. "I really have to go to the bathroom now."

Steve cackled, and Eddie ran from the room, and Steve watched him rush down the hallway only to run directly into Robin, who was exiting the bathroom.

"Good morning," she greeted both of them.

"Morning Robin!" Steve said loudly, awkwardly, and Eddie laughed.

Robin looked between the two of them, back and forth, eyebrows furrowed. Before she could say anything more, Eddie dashed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

Robin's eyes landed firmly on Steve. "Dingus?"

"Yes?"

"Why is Eddie bright red–"

"Am not!" Eddie's voice came through the door. They both snickered.

"Why is Eddie bright red and you look like you won the lottery?" It seemed to click then, and she gasped and ran down the hallway, stopping directly in front of Steve. "Oh my god, did it finally happen?"

Steve grinned and glanced down at the floor. He thought his own cheeks might be turning their own shade of pink. "It might have." Robin squealed, then quieted when Steve slammed a hand over her mouth because oh my god, Robin, Eddie is right there!

"Steve!" Eddie's voice called from the bathroom, flinging the door open; Steve casually removed his hand from Robin's face.

"Eddie!"

"Come brush your teeth with me!"

Steve immediately pushed past Robin with a well what can you do shrug. He met Eddie in the doorway of the bathroom and ignored Robin's fake-vomiting noises.

"So," Eddie said, holding up his toothbrush with a glimmer in his eye and raising his voice so that Robin would definitely be able to hear from the hallway. "Are you a toothbrush sharer or…"

Steve closed the bathroom door behind him, drowning out the sound of Robin's groaning and leaning in toward Eddie, already ready for another kiss.

"By the way," he said casually between kisses, "if you use my toothbrush I'm breaking up with you."

Eddie laughed into their next kiss. 

[27dragons]

Quiz Meme thing for people over 50 - via @gilajames

1. Name one body part that doesn't hurt: my elbow (who gets that reference? but really mine doesn't hurt. at least not today.)

2. Were you able to answer #1 because you have taken ibuprofen recently? Nope, I haven't been able to take ibuprofen at all for a few years now because I'm prone to ulcers. (I also haven't taken any tylenol/paracetamol, because it straight up doesn't work for me for pain relief. It lowers fevers, but that's it.)

3. Name one activity you are greatly relieved you don't do anymore because fuck that shit: change diapers and otherwise deal with any (literal) shit that isn't my own

4. Have you gotten at least eight hours of sleep in the past five days. (Not each night, just total.) Oh yeah, I average about 6.5 hours a night and on the weekends sometimes it stretches to seven!

5. Name one song that is NOT forty years old, what the fuck. The 1980s were, like, twenty years ago. Fuck you, the 80s were like, five years ago at most lol. That said: The Hamilton soundtrack, and also "Panic" by David Ford. Those are only like 10-15 years old.

6. Do you remember the last time you got carded (not counting 'we have to card everyone' places.) If we're not counting "card everyone" places, then I have never been carded. When I bought booze legally for the first time on my 21st birthday, they did not card me. Apparently I radiate an aura of "yeah she's old enough."

7. Name one musician that you keep hearing their name but have no clue what their music is. My Chemical Romance, I guess (I have a general idea what the music is but I don't know that I've actually heard it. I could be wrong about that I suppose but I definitely didn't know it.) I'm not really a music person, this is a lot of music questions for me.

8. Have the celebrities you loved as a kid started dying of old age? A few but not too many yet.

9. Have the celebrities you loved as a teenager started dying of old age? Same.

10. When did you start listening to the Oldies station? Another music question? I mean, I listened to the oldies station when I was in frickin college because I don't care about music and that was the station my boyfriend at the time liked. I really only listen to music in the car, and after I dumped that guy I switched to listening almost exclusively to tapes, CDs, and music downloaded to an iPod/phone.

11. Have you told a younger co-worker any form of the phrase "wait until you're my age/older/hit your 40s, then you'll..." Not really, though I've done the "wait until you have kids who are [age] thing to younger co-workers, and commiserated with co-workers of similar age about all the shit that hit us after 40.

12. Do you seek out older co-workers so you can quote something at them that they will get? Nope, because I am a work-from-home introvert. :D

13. Would you rather just stay home? At least 85% of the time, YES.

14. Have you reached the point that for birthdays, other gift-getting events, you say "I just don't need more stuff"? No, because I love getting gifts. When I was young, my mom told me she didn't care what was under the Christmas tree for her, she just loved opening presents. Seriously, one year when I was like 14 I got her a 6-pack of socks and wrapped each pair individually and she LOVED it. I thought she was crazy then, but I get it now. Anyway the only people who get me actual gifts these days are the Things and I'm not going to discourage them because they're so fun.

15. Do you often find yourself saying "I remember when" and you describe something so completely foreign to Life Today that you wonder if you made it up? All the FUCKIGN TIME

16. Did you look at this list at the beginning and hope it was a short quiz because you don't have time for those 50 item lists? Lol no because this counts as social interaction for me these days.

My fellow "old" tumblrs, join in the fun! (Or don't, I'm not the boss of you.)

[jodilin65]

And we're back to the breathing issues and broken-up sleep. ☹ Knew I would be sooner or later. Yesterday, I noticed my nose was getting stuffy again, and I woke up struggling to breathe through my nose a few hours after I crashed. Naturally, this left me tired when I got up later on. That wasn't the only time I woke up. Seems like I woke up half a dozen or more times along the way. I was either snoring, or I had to pee, and then I had to dream of my shit sister and her fucked-up brood.

We were living in what looked like our Maricopa house. I guess we all just moved in or something. A couple of her brats were there giving me the silent treatment, but I ignored them in return and didn't pay it much mind. As the morning wore on, it was getting hot in the house, and I suggested we shut the windows and kick the AC on. Then some kind of service guy was at the house that the termite seemed a bit suspicious of. She said something about measurements being taken.

Anyway, I did more research, and my symptoms definitely suggest polyps, and then there's the fact that that was the first thing Rhonda mentioned. So I would guess that first, a valve issue second, and septum last. I'm really screwed if they're all an issue! They can shrink and swell at random, and they don't know what causes them, but there are some known triggers. One is ibuprofen, and I happened to take some before bed. I didn't take clonazepam, though, because I was caught up on sleep. But now that I'm tired, I'm going to take it when I crash, so hopefully, it helps me sleep better. Again, I don't want to overdo it, but I'm glad it's there when I need it. So no more ibuprofen. I'll be switching to Tylenol when I have any kind of pain. Besides humidifiers, eucalyptus or peppermint oil, vitamin D, and apples were on the list of recommendations I dug up.

I found the vitamin D thing rather interesting because I had increased my vitamin D before labs, and my nose had gotten better a few days or so before seeing Rhonda. I thought it was simply because I was less stressed out knowing I would soon be seeing her, but maybe there was more to it.

With tomorrow's groceries, apples will be coming. I'll also put some eucalyptus oil in my diffuser before bed and put the humidifier on as I've been doing ever since I got it. I don't know if it will do me any good, though, or the clonazepam, but we'll find out.

Since it had been better, I've been wearing the kids' nose strips because they fit my tiny nose better and are more comfortable, but they aren't as thick and strong, so I will make sure I sleep with an adult one next time.

I just hope this spell doesn't last for weeks like it did the last time and that my lungs don’t join the party! The lungs I still think were on account of the Levo building up.

Despite being tired, I managed to dust the bedroom because I know allergens don't help, particularly dust, while the bot vacuumed.

We also grabbed breakfast at Burger King, but I haven't done much else. I napped a couple of times, although one of the times I didn't actually fall asleep.

I also recharged my herbs and gems by smudging them. If I'm getting to be as good of a witch as I am psychic, then maybe they too, will be another positive influencing factor in letting me get better sleep next time around.

Speaking of being psychic, someone asked if I ever thought of making money with it. Nope. It's not anything I can control. I can't control what information or abilities come to me and therefore wouldn’t necessarily be able to give people what they wanted. A singer can go on stage and sing a group of planned-out songs. Someone can go to someone's home to repair something. But if I'm asked to predict this or predict that, there are no guarantees I can deliver.

[iwritesickfic]

where i need to be (part 1)

synopsis: Theo and Seamus are living in Ireland while Seamus works as a writer/producer on a new album. Theo wakes up very sick and feels conflicted about Seamus missing work to care for him.

warnings: graphic emeto

Theo wakes up feeling absolutely, irrevocably terrible. His head is pounding, he's lying in what feels like a puddle of sweat, and worst of all, his stomach is swirling with nausea. He buries his head back into the damp pillow and stifles a small moan at the sudden wave of pain. His hands are shaking. He knows he should get up, take some ibuprofen, get something to drink, but he has a suspicion that if he stands up he'll faint.

The sheets to his left are cold.. Seamus must have already left for the studio this morning. The thought makes his heart sink - there's no way lying next to him that Seamus wouldn't know he was running a fever. And he left him. The thought starts to spiral out of control before he reminds himself that he can take care of himself. Seamus's work is important. He takes a deep, unsteady breath. His head is throbbing in time with his heart. 

"Oh hey love, you're awake," Seamus's voice suddenly says, and Theo opens his eyes to see him leaning against the doorframe. There’s an immediate surge of relief. He's in his "at home" clothes - sweatpants, an XL tour t-shirt, and his glasses. Theo’s feverish brain is now only fixated on how goddamn beautiful his boyfriend is.

"Mm," he just hums back, and Seamus walks over and sits down on the edge of the bed. He presses his cool, steady hand to Theo's forehead, and it's all he can do to keep from moaning at how good it feels. It's like ice on his overheated skin.

"You must feel awful, hm?" Seamus asks, his hand pulling away to fuss with some of Theo's hair. His touch feels so, so good. It's almost enough to lull him back to sleep when his stomach twists. He pulls his knees up closer to his tender stomach, curling in on himself.

"I thought you went to…" He trails off. Seamus just smiles softly and shakes his head. There's something unspoken they're both aware of. Theo's fear, the panic he felt in those moments he thought he was alone again. The year they were broken up, he'd taken care of himself countless times. And though he could do it again, he was really hoping he wouldn't have to.

"Nope. Just to the kitchen." Seamus keeps stroking his hair. "When I woke up this morning you were pretty warm. I was sweating," he says with a soft laugh.

"Sorry," Theo says before he can stop himself, and Seamus takes his hand from where it's clenched in the pillow.

"I was going to joke that you should be sorry, but I don't think that'd be wise at the moment," he says with another smile. "No, it's fine. I was just worried. I figured I'd let you sleep. But do you… Is it a head cold?" His whole demeanor is so lighthearted, and though Theo wants to, he can’t make himself match it. The lingering anxiety of being (almost) abandonned and the misery of being so sick doesn’t leave any room for playfulness.

"Um, my stomach," he says, and Seamus frowns in sympathy.

"I'll be right back, sit tight," Seamus says, and stands up, heading down the hall to the bathroom.

Theo considers picking up his phone to check the time or his texts, but the thought of looking at a screen with the way his head is pounding is repellent. Instead, he tries to just take deep breaths and ignore the cramping and rolling in his stomach. He’s going to vomit, he knows that. It’s just a question of when.

Seamus returns with what looks like a glass thermometer, a few pill bottles, some water, and a washcloth that somehow feels even better than Seamus's palm did on his forehead. Even with the relief there though, his whole body is still on fire. The thermometer is freezing under his tongue too.

"It takes three or four minutes," Seamus says and Theo nods weakly. His head feels so light. They're at Seamus's grandparents' former house in Ireland, and like everything else in it - the sink with two faucets, the fireplace in the living room - the thermometer is an antique. He’s shivering, but maybe shivering is the wrong word, because he’s so hot he feels like he could melt.

Seamus's phone buzzes, and though he glances at the screen, he doesn't open it. Then it buzzes again. And again. Seamus opens it up with a sigh and starts to type.

"What is it?" Theo already knows it's someone from the studio, asking where he is.

"Nothing important," he says with a shrug, and it looks like he turns the sound off before putting it back in his pocket. "Also, don't talk while that's in your mouth." He tucks a few strands of hair behind Theo's ear.

"Why not?" he mumbles back.

"Because i said so.”

Theo’s eyes slip closed and it feels like only a moment’s passed before Seamus is sliding the thermometer back out from between his chapped lips.

“Jesus. Almost 40.” His hand rests on Theo’s cheek. His fingers still feel blessedly cool and this time, Theo can’t help the little sound he makes. The cramping in his gut is getting worse and worse - twisting, stabbing pains. “Teddy…” Seamus says, his voice soft and oozing sympathy. 

“It’s not that bad,” he mumbles, even though it very much is that bad. 

“Here, sit up.” Seamus has to practically move him around like a ragdoll to get him leaning up against the headboard. He hands him a pill and the glass of water, and Theo tries not to drop it. When he starts to drink he realizes he’s very, very thirsty. Everything in him wants to drink as much and as fast as possible, but he knows it will only make his eventual puking even worse. He takes small, measured sips while Seamus strokes his hair.

“You…” He swallows thickly. “You’re not gonna leave, are you?”

“No. Absolutely not,” Seamus says, and presses a kiss to his forehead.

All of a sudden, almost out of nowhere, Theo knows he’s about to throw up. He struggles to get out of bed, legs tangled in the sweat soaked sheets.

“Whoa, T, what-” Seamus says, but Theo knows if he opens his mouth to answer he’s going to puke all over the floor. He’s so dizzy when he gets standing that he nearly cracks his head open on the bedside table before Seamus has a chance to catch him. He’s kneeling on the hardwood when the first wave of vomiting hits. He’s shaking so badly he can’t even hold himself up, Seamus’s arms the only thing keeping him from totally keeling over. “Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he murmurs, but his voice feels so far away. “Shh, you’re ok. I’ve got you.”

Embarrassingly, after the third or fourth heave, Theo starts to sob. He hasn’t been this violently sick in a long time, at least not stomach-sick, and it’s making him want to die. Cold tears are falling down his flushed cheeks. Each wave of sickness makes his whole body tense. The bitter, sharp taste of bile is coating his entire mouth, burning the back of his throat.

After what seems like an eternity, he seems to be finished, at least for the time being. He’s still shaking, his breath gasping in and out, leant back against Seamus’s chest. Seamus keeps whispering soft reassurances, cool lips brushing against his fevered skin.

“Done?” He asks, and Theo nods. Now that it’s over he feels mortified.

“I need to… I hav’to clean this up,” he mumbles, his words slurring together. The world is even hazier than it was before he started, his trembling body is burning so hot he can hardly think about anything else.

“It’s ok, baby.” Baby… Seamus only calls him that when he’s sick. Really, really sick. He’s dripping sweat. His t-shirt - Seamus’s t-shirt - is drenched, stuck to him like a second skin. He has vomit in his hair, vomit on his chin.

Before he really knows what’s going on, they’re in the shower together. The water is cool, and it seems to be helping with the blurry quality everything has at the moment - his thoughts, his words, his vision. He’s pressed against Seamus, and he’s glad, because he knows he doesn’t have the strength to stand on his own at the moment. 

“Shay,” he breathes out, and Seamus kisses the curve where his neck meets his shoulder.

“You’re ok, we just wanna get your fever down a little bit,” he says, and Theo takes a deep breath. After throwing up, his nausea had almost completely subsided, but it seems to be making a comeback already.

“Fever,” he repeats hazily. 

“Mhm. We don’t need your brain melting out through your ears.” he rubs Theo’s back. Then his hands are on Theo’s head, fingers massaging his scalp, and Theo realizes he’s washing his hair. He just closes his eyes and rests against Seamus’s chest, and with every minute that passes he feels less and less like he’s going to float away. His shaky hands run up and down Seamus’s back, his sides. He’s so beautiful, he’s so gorgeous. 

When he’s clean and the soap’s rinsed out of his hair, Seamus turns off the water and sits him down on the lip of the tub before wrapping him in a towel. The glass thermometer is under his tongue again, and Seamus’s hands are tying up his wet hair in a bun. When he finally plucks the thermometer from his lips he breathes a sigh of relief. 

“What is it?”

“38 and a half, not so bad,” he says with a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he says, and he means it. There’s lingering nausea swirling in his stomach, but it’s nowhere near what it was before. His headache’s calmed and his body doesn’t feel like it’s about to collapse at any given moment, so overall, a huge improvement. Seamus smiles and rests his hand on Theo’s shoulder. It no longer feels freezing, so that’s probably a good sign too.

“Actually?” Theo nods, offering a small smile back. “Good. I’m just gonna change the sheets out and you can lay back down, ok?” He kisses Theo’s temple before disappearing back down the hall and into the bedroom. 

After a few moments of psyching himself up, Theo stands and walks to the sink. Even the few steps have his knees shaking, but he manages to rinse his mouth out. He knows better than to try and drink any meaningful amount of water this soon after throwing up, but if he was thirsty before he’s dehydrated now. The combination of sweating and throwing up has done a number on him. 

There are clean clothes set out on the lid of the toilet. A threadbare old tank top advertising Seamus’s high school - Elkhorn South - and a pair of shorts, and it takes way more effort than it should to pull them on. 

He’s trying to take deep breaths, leaning against the sink, when he notices Seamus’s phone resting on the countertop. It lights up with an incoming text, then another. And another. There are at least ten unread texts, and just as many missed calls. Guilt starts to press down on Theo’s shoulders.

He grabs the phone and starts to make his way down the hall, occasionally having to catch himself on the wall. His head’s starting to throb again, and even if he’s not burning up like he was before he feels almost totally sapped of energy.

He’s exhausted by the time he reaches the doorway, and when Seamus looks up from putting on the fitted sheet he looks surprised.

“Hey, you could’ve waited for me, I would’ve carried you,” he says, and that makes Theo laugh. The room smells like lavender scented antiseptic.

“You don’t have to do that.” Seamus walks over to him and rubs his upper arm. He’s changed his clothes too, his hair hanging damp in his face.

“Sure, but you look like you’re about to pass out.” He rests his forehead on Theo’s. Cups his cheek. “Let’s lay down, c’mon.”

Theo takes a deep breath and holds out the phone, forcing distance between them.

“Someone’s trying to get in touch with you,” he says, the guilt crushing him like a ton of bricks. Seamus furrows his brow and frowns, taking the phone from Theo’s shaking hand. He pulls away and looks at it briefly before rolling his eyes and shoving it in his pocket. He looks distinctly annoyed before letting out a sigh.

“Whatever. It’s not important,” he says, and lays his hand on Theo’s shoulder. The touch feels so good, but he can’t make himself let this go.

“If it’s not important why do you have like 10 missed calls?” Seamus sets his jaw and walks back over to the bed, tucking in the remaining corner of the sheet.

“I don’t wanna fight when you’re sick, T,” he says, voice clipped, and Theo takes a few more steps into the room.

“I’m not trying to fight, I just-” He’s getting more and more lightheaded. Seamus sits down on the edge of the mattress, jaw still tight.

“Do you think they really need me there?” 

“I don’t know, I’m…” he mumbles, “We- you came here to work, and I don’t want to get in the way.” He shouldn’t have brought this up. Seamus loves him, what’s so hard to understand about that? Seamus takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair.

“Do you think they’ll be ok without me for a day? Yes or no?” he asks, and Theo shrugs. Seamus crosses his arms, silent, his mouth still set in a hard line.

“Yeah,” he finally says, and Seamus reaches out to take his hand. His expression softens slightly.

“What about you? Would you be ok?” Theo takes a few steps forward so he’s standing between Seamus’s legs. Part of him wants to lie, but they both know the truth anyway.

“No,” he says, and closes his eyes, tilting his head down minutely so his forehead rests against Seamus’s. His free hand comes up and runs over Theo’s ribs, still sore from all the vomiting.

“Right,” he says gently, “So I’m exactly where I need to be.”

[ladyantiheroine]

I Could Recognize You Anywhere

Summary: You thought your husband died long ago. So why does that corpse look so familiar?

Pairing: R x fem!reader

Requested by @kpopgirlbtssvt

Also tagging: @ninebluehearts

-------------------------------------------------------

“This anything good?”

Perry lifted a bottle from a shelf and presented it to you. You squinted and examined the label on the bottle.

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head. “That’s just more ibuprofen. We have plenty at the base.”

“Never hurts to have more.”

“Yeah, but our bags are getting full. We need to save room for things we don’t have enough of.”

Perry shrugged and placed the pills back on the shelf. You and the rest of the gathering party had been out of the compound for hours. So far, the newest stretch of decrepit buildings has little to offer in terms of food or medical supplies.

You’d been tasked as the team’s medical expert, given your background in nursing. You had a gun on you, but you were counting on the others to take care of business should they be needed.

You turned around.

“Julie,” you said. “Anything?”

“Not really,” your blonde friend said. “But…do you guys hear anything?”

Everyone pushed, ears perked.

“Nope,” Perry said. “You’re being paranoid, Julie. The dead don’t come around here much.”

Perry didn’t see it, but you could see how Julie wilted under his words. To think these two used to be so in love, now you couldn’t remember the last time Julie seemed really happy around him.

You felt for Julie, but a mean part of you also resented her. At least Julie had someone to love, someone to warm her bed at the compound. You hadn’t taken to any of the others at the base. Your heart was still heavy with…him.

You shook the thoughts from your head.

Don’t think about him you thought. He’s dead. He’s gone. No point in dwelling on him.

At that moment, there was banging sound somewhere outside the room. Everyone in the room froze. Julie reached for her gun. Perry pushed some more pill bottles into his bag.

“I told you,” Julie said. “We’re not alone. Someone is—”

At that moment, the double doors flew open. A chorus of moans and bloody gurgles that you recognized as the sounds of corpses erupted from the door. Bullets flew and screams rang out as a hoard of dead descended into the room.

You ducked behind a table. Your hands fumbled for your gun but your extra ammo spilled onto the floor.

Gun secured in hands, you peeked over the top of the counter. You watched in horror as your friends and their feeble guns turned to piles of gore on the ground. Julie was already down, thick red blood staining her blond curls.

In the center of the room, a slender corpse in a red hoodie was digging his teeth into Perry, who gasped a final scream before succumbing to death. You realized with terror that you were the only one left alive. The corpses were sniffing around, ever-hungry. They wandered out of the room, but the red hoodie was still there.

Your finger itched on the trigger of your gun. You quickly stood up and clicked the trigger, aiming for his head.

Nothing. You didn’t load your gun. You asked Perry to do it for you, but the asshole must have been too preoccupied.

Now, the corpse glanced over his shoulder and looked at you. You felt around your pockets for a knife, stray bullets, anything. But you had nothing. You were defenseless.

The corpse slowly rose to his feet, blood still dripping from his lips, and lumbered towards you. You backed up until your back hit the wall.

The corpse grew closer, close enough you could smell the foul gore on his mouth and clothes. You shrunk away from him, sliding down the wall to the floor. You squeezed your eyes shut, prepared for whatever horrible death was to be delivered to you.

“Uhhh.” the corpse said. Its voice was a rumbling moan. “Uhhh…”

Several seconds passed. No teeth met your flesh. You dared to open a single eye. The corpse was just…starring at you. Pale blue eyes. Why wasn’t he eating you?

Then, something started to click. The blue eyes, the slender frame, the dark hair. All of it sent something flickering inside you. All the while the corpse kept trying to speak.

“I…” he said. “I uh…”

Your eyes widened as the realization slowly hit you.

“Baby?” she said. “Is that you?”

The corpse lifted a hand and brushed his fingers along his cheek.

“...love…you…” he mumbled out.

Tears swelled up in your eyes and you threw your arms around him. His arms encircled yours and he dug his face into your shoulders.

“I thought you were dead,” you said. You sniffled, then chuckled. “And I mean like…actually dead. Not whatever this is.”

Your husband. The man you loved long before the world turned into a wasteland. You two had only been married for a few months when the virus hit. You both tried to escape to the newly formed compounds, but at some point you lost each other, and the last glimpse you had of your beloved was him with a bite mark on his leg.

Your husband took your arm and lifted you to your feet. He glanced around at the bodies of your comrades on the ground.

“Sorry…” he said.

You shook your head.

“Don’t,” you said. “I only care about you.”

Your mind started racing. No way you two could go back to the compound. Julie’s trigger-happy dad, who also happened to be the colonel, would shoot your beloved on sight.

Your husband seemed to read your thoughts—he always could—and began gently guiding you out of the room.

“Have…somewhere safe…” he mustered out.

“But what about—”

R ran a hand along his face and then pressed it to your cheek. You winced against the gore, but didn’t resist. With that protection, R led you through the city towards the neighboring airport.

“This…home…”

It didn’t look like a home. It looked like an airplane that hadn’t been flown in who knew how long. But you followed R up the steps and inside. The plane’s interior was littered with all kinds of knick-knacks. Vinyl records, snowglobes, clothes, other trinkets. Your husband always loved to collect things and death had not changed that.

You turned to R and smirked.

“Even in death, you’re still a slob,” you said.

R smiled and pulled you close. The two of you stood there for a while, encased away from the world outside.

“Stay…” R said into the top of your head. “Can’t…lose you…again…”

You thought about the compound. You thought about everyone back there who was likely worried sick about you. Chances are, they assumed you died with the rest of the party. It was sad, but it was a mistruth you were willing to let them believe to stay with the man you loved.

You looked up at your husband.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said.

With that, your warm lips met his cold ones.

[ravens-words]

harbor (on AO3)

Four times Carlos didn't think he was ready to have a kid, and the one time he thought he could be.

AN: thank you, @tkstrrand for reading this over. I love you, bestie 💛

🥀

"Carlos!"

"Hey, Cami."

"Carlitos, your nephew demands a visit."

Carlos grins, holds the phone between his cheek and his shoulder and washes his hands. "Perfect timing, lunch's about done, I'll bring some for you guys?"

"Or," she drew out, "we can come over to yours? We've been cooped up in the house for a while."

"Sure, come on over."

.

An hour later, his door bell rings, followed by three clumsy knocks. Carlos hurries over to the door, greets his sister and her kids with a big smile.

"Tio!"

He crouches down just in time to catch the little boy. "Hi, Andi," he says, squeezes his tight. Dani and Sofia join in on the hug, and hi sister watches amusedly as he carries all three kids in his arms. He huffs and puffs and makes a show of wincing as he gets up. "Have you gotten bigger since I saw you last?!"

Sofia giggles. "Nope."

Dani shoves her sister's face away from hers, Sofi shoves her back, and Carlos just barely manages to steady them before he put them down.

"Girls," Cami says firmly, and Dani huffs. Her cheeks are flushed, and she sways on the spot when he puts them down. Carlos looks at his sister, brows furrowed. "She sick?"

She shrugs helplessly, looking haggard. "She says she's fine, but I think she might be coming down with something."

Carlos hums, leans down to kiss the little girl's forehead. "She's kinda warm."

Cami's shoulders slump. "Damn it. Come here, honey, let's get you to the couch, huh?"

He hugs her before she follows her mother, and manages to distract the other two until Cami comes back.

His phone buzzes with a text from TK. He smiles when he opens it.

I'm heading home, do we need anything from the grocery store?

Maybe some snacks for the kids?

Whose kids?

Carlos smiles. Cami's.

"Cami?" He calls out.

"Yeah?"

"Do you need anything for Dani? TK's going to the store before he comes home."

"Actually, yeah- some children's Tylenol, or Ibuprofen. I grabbed the nearly empty one on my way out."

"All right, I'll let him know."

Got it. Be there in fifteen.

Okay, love you. Drive safe.

Love you.

.

TK comes in just as the chaos starts.

Sofi and Andi are fighting over the last of the juice, his sister is trying and failing to get her daughter to drink some water, and Carlos is helplessly running back and forth between them.

His shoulders slump in relief when he hears TK's voice.

"Hi, everyone!" TK's eyes widen at the scene he's met with. "Whoa," he says quietly, then seems to shake it off. He puts the groceries on the counter, except for the smallest bag which he takes over to the couch.

He crouches beside Cami, runs his hand through Dani's hair to feel her temperature as he hands over the medicine to his sister, who kisses his cheek gratefully.

Carlos watches his husband, the way he's so comfortable around his sick niece, his gentle smile, the comfort he exudes and thinks, he'd make an amazing father.

The thought makes him tense all over, and he immediately tries to put a stop to that train of thought. Luckily, his niece and nephew make it easy for him when their fight escalates to Andi almost throwing a remote at Sofia's head.

His sister comes to stand beside him, nudges him in the side. "I know that face," she mutters, "what's going on in that big head, huh?"

"Nothing."

She gives him a skeptical look. "I'm sorry, was I supposed to believe that?"

He rolls his eyes. "It's just-" he looks back at TK, "look at him- he's-"

Her brows furrow, and she looks between him and TK. Then her face clears. "Carlitos," she says softly. Her face softens with sympathy and he purses his lips.

"Mami told you, didn't she?"

She shrugs, but doesn't deny it.

Carlos rolls his eyes again.

She punches his arm, gently. "Don't be mad at her, you know she can't keep anything from me."

He chuckles, shakes his head. "I know." He wraps his arm around her shoulder, hugs her tight.

They both watch as TK and Dani talk quietly, watching the TV. Dani crawls closer to him, burrowing into his arms.

Cami pats his chest. "If you chose to have kids, Carlitos, I know you'll be an amazing father. But promise me you won't do it for him. That you'll only do it when you're absolutely ready."

The vice around his heart loosens a little bit.

"Thank you."

 

🥀🥀

They open the door and stumble in, Carlos first, then TK. They're so tired they can barely keep their eyes open.

"Oh my God," Carlos mutters as he leans against the door, "I can hear myself think."

TK grins tiredly. "Yeah."

They barely manage to change and brush their teeth before they're falling into bed, arms and legs tangled together.

"Can't believe Freddie is already two."

TK hums.

"I love the kids, but I have never been happier to come to an empty house as I am right now," he chuckles.

TK is silent for a beat, then he smiles up at Carlos- small and a little sad, though he's trying to cover it up, "yeah,” he says, then yawns, “goodnight, babe." He leans up, kisses him deeply, then settles down in his arms, and Carlos wraps his around his shoulders, holding him close.

He's struck a nerve. As accidental as it may be, he's hurt TK.

He tries to imagine it, one or two kids in running around in the loft, wrangling them home after a night like tonight while they're hopped up on sugar, and as always, the thought fills him with dread.

It's too much responsibility. There's no guarantee he'll be good at it.

He wishes he can be as sure as TK, wishes he can say with certainty that he wants the good and the bad that will come with having a child, but he's not there yet and he hates it.

"Stop it," TK mutters.

He looks down at him, is surprised his eyes are closed. "Stop what?"

"Thinking," is his quiet answer, "It's okay, I promise."

Carlos lets out a breath, smiles. "Hey, TK?"

"Hmmm?"

"I love you."

TK presses a kiss to his chest. "Love you, too. Now, please, go to sleep."

.

 

🥀🥀🥀

"TK?"

His husband gets up immediately, meets him in the middle. Carlos hugs him tightly, brushes a kiss to his forehead.

TK shudders, stays hidden in his arms for a few seconds, then pulls away, visibly trying to pull himself together.

"What happened?"

"It was bad," he whispers. "He's still in surgery. The doctors say his chances are-"

"Grace? Grace, Where's my dad?"

He and TK both turn to see Wyatt enter the waiting room, a wild look in his eyes. Carlos' heart hurts for the young man, who's now crying in Grace's arms. Grace isn't doing much better, her eyes closed tightly, tears running down her cheeks. She's muttering words of comfort that probably don't do much to help.

The atmosphere in the waiting room is suffocating.

.

They wait, and they wait.

Tommy, Nancy and TK have a shift to work so they leave after a few hours, along with Marjan, Mateo and Paul. Owen and Carlos stay with Grace and Wyatt, though.

Carlos gets up to get them coffee, and Owen joins him wordlessly. "You okay, Carlos?"

"Yeah, just worried about Judd."

Owen nods.

He's curious, though- "Why do you ask?"

"You just seem- like you have a lot on your mind. Thought you might want to talk."

"I've just been where Grace is, and where Wyatt is- and I wish I can do something to make it easier, you know?"

"You're doing it," he tells him. "Judd will pull through."

Carlos nods.

They take the coffee up, and the four of them drink it in silence.

Grace's phone rings, she answers on the third ring. "Hey, mama- what? But I thought you were off today- well, where am I supposed to keep her?" She huffs, tears of frustration welling up in her eyes, "okay, can you drop her off at the hospital?- okay, I'll see you soon."

.

He goes down with her to get Charlie, and the little girl immediately latches onto him. Grace smiles gratefully and runs her hand down daughter's back. "Hi, sweetheart." He receives a big smile and can't help but grin back. "How are you feeling, miss Charlie?"

She babbles back at him, and when he goes to look at Grace, he's startled to see her crying silently. "Grace-"

She holds up a hand, wipes her tears with the other and Grace's herself. "I'm fine."

"You're not. And it's okay."

"It's not," she utters, "I can't fall apart now, not when they need me to be strong."

She puts on a big smile and takes her daughter's hand, presses a kiss to it. Charlie extends her hands with a quiet, "mama," and Grace takes her immediately, hugs her tight. She walks away, but Carlos stays rooted to the spot.

"Carlos, you coming?"

"In a minute," he manages to say, before he bolts out of the hospital doors.

.

Tommy finds him in the gardens a minute later, approaches him cautiously. "Hey, Carlos."

"Tommy," he's surprised to see her, "what are you doing here?"

"We're dropping a patient off, and it's close to our lunch break now, so I thought we might come visit."

He looks around behind her and she smiles as she sits beside him. "He's finishing up some paperwork."

He relaxes back into the wooden bench. "How'd you find me?"

"Saw you running out like a bat outta hell," she tells him, "scared me to death for a second there."

"Sorry."

She waves him off. "You wanna talk about whatever it is that's bothering you?"

"I-" he bites his lip, "don't answer if you don't want to, but- when Charles died, how did you- how were you able to take care of the kids while grieving? I-" he trails off, unable to find the right words to say.

Tommy's silent for a few seconds, and Carlos feels guilty for bringing it up. "Sorry-"

"No, no, don't be," she assures him, "here's the thing, I didn't always manage to put my girls first. I fell apart after my Charles died. I- I love my girls, but sometimes I had to put them first when I couldn't breathe and all I wanted was to be alone. But," she smiles, "they also helped me a lot. There is so much of him in each of them, and in a way, it's like he's still with me. Grief is messy, kids or no kids, and most of the time, it feels like you're doing it wrong, but- you get through it. With help."

She pats his leg twice, and stands up. "I'll send TK your way once he's done."

He nods.

Carlos watches her walk away.

He tries to imagine it, taking care of a kid while waiting for news on his husband, or after he- he shakes his head, can't even entertain the thought.

He thinks back to the last time TK was in the hospital, to the all consuming terror he felt the whole time, and tries to fit a kid in that picture, tries to imagine worrying about feeding them, or where they'd be staying, and- he can't. He can't imagine it. Doesn't think he'd be strong enough to think about anything other than the man he loves in a moment like that.

"Hi, baby."

He breathes in, smiles at TK, who comes to sit beside him. He lets himself be pulled into his husband's warm embrace, closes his eyes. "Any news on Judd?"

He shakes his head. "Still in surgery."

"Are you okay?"

Carlos looks at him, tired green eyes, windswept hair and flushed cheeks, and he's so overwhelmed with how much he loves this man. He leans forward, hands on both TK's cheeks, and kisses him deeply. TK doesn't let him pull away, instead pulling him into a tight hug.

"I'm glad you're here," he whispers into his neck. Warm and safe and alive.

TK kisses his temple, holds him tighter.

 

🥀🥀🥀🥀

"What do you mean, you're not sure you want kids?"

Carlos stiffens, shares a quick look with TK before he looks back at his father. "Exactly that."

TK takes his hand under the table, squeezes it. The conversations around the table suddenly screeches to a halt, and all eyes are  on them. It makes him angry, and it makes him resent his father just a little.

"Gabriel-"

"No, Andrea, just- are you really not going to have children?"

He feels TK stiffen beside him. The anger bubbles up to the surface. "I didn't say that."

His father shakes his head. "Why?"

"What?"

"Why don't you want kids?"

He shakes his head, frustrated. "I said I'm not sure if I want to have them."

"Okay, why?"

"Because I'm terrified I'll be like you," he snaps. The words don't seem to register, not at first. His father is shocked, and hurt, but he covers it up quickly. "Dad-"

His father pushes his chair back abruptly, then stands up and leaves the room.

Carlos stays seated, frozen in shock as what he said catches up to him.

A hand squeezes his. "Babe," TK says, then waits until Carlos looks at him before he continues, "go."

He shakes his head. "What do I even say to him after that?"

Another squeeze. "Tell him the truth. Tell him whatever you need to make peace with it, with him."

He lets out a shuddering breath, nods.

TK pulls him into a chaste kiss just before he gets up, and it gives him the strength he needs to push through.

.

"I'm sorry."

His father drains his glass, pours himself another. Doesn't say a thing. "Dad-"

"I know I wasn't the best father to you. I know I've made plenty of mistakes, but-" he shakes his head, takes a large sip of whiskey and winces at the burn, "I never thought I'd be the reason you didn't want kids."

"Dad, you're not," he rushes to say. At his father's skeptical look, he pushes himself off the wall and walks forward until he reaches the chair opposite his father and sits in it. "Yes, we didn't really connect, or have the best relationship, until a couple of years ago, and yes- that makes me doubt my ability to be a father, but it's not the only thing, dad."

Gabriel nods. "What else?"

He hesitates.

"You obviously haven't spoken about this to anyone, so tell me, what else is there?"

"TK and I both work dangerous jobs," he lists off, "I don't think I want to give up the freedom we have right now. And- I don't know if I have what it takes to be a good father."

"Because of me," his father utters, downing the last of his glass.

"No, dad- because of me."

His father watches him, not saying a word, but then he leans forward, elbows on his knees. "I have never seen you repeat a mistake twice- and that's the kind of father you'll be. You'll make mistakes, but you'll also learn from them and make things right." His father looks down, avoids his eyes. "You'll make a good father."

He swallows. "Thank you, dad, that- it means a lot. I- I'm still not sure it's something I want, but..."

His father hums, a small smile on his lips like he knows something Carlos doesn't.

He stands up, and Carlos does the same.

"Whatever you decide, know that I support you. I know it may be a little late-"

"It's not," he cuts him off, leans forward to wrap his arms around his father's middle, "it's not too late, dad."

+🥀

"You've been quiet tonight."

Carlos tenses, takes his time hanging his jacket on the hook by the door.

"Carlos."

"What, TK?"

"Look at me," he demands, firm but quiet.

Carlos turns around, is met with a look he knows well. His eyes are blazing, his jaw set- he's not letting this go. Carlos' shoulders slump.

"What happened tonight?" TK asks as he walks closer. "You were having a good time, and then just like that, you got quiet, and you-" he stops speaking abruptly, mouth hanging open, "the kids," TK breathes out. "It was the kids."

"TK-"

"What was different about tonight? I've always played with them, I've always lo-"

“Nothing,” Carlos shakes his head, closes his eyes. "Nothing was different. Can we not talk about this tonight? Please?"

TK looks at him, long and hard. There's an unreadable look in his eyes, but he turns around before Carlos can decipher it. "Fine," he mutters, heading for their bedroom. He slides the door open, doesn't close it all the way after he enters.

Carlos hates himself, just a little.

He buys himself time by cleaning the dishes they'd left after lunch. Once that's over, he takes a deep fortifying breath and goes to bed.

His husband isn't asleep, but he's pretending to be, most likely for Carlos' sake.

"TK, can we talk?"

He wordlessly turns around, facing him. "Yeah," he says quietly.

He slides under the covers, scoring closer until there's only an inch between them. "I'm scared," he admits.

TK's face softens. "Of what?"

"Kids; the idea of wanting them."

His bows furrow. "Baby, we don't h- wait, what do you mean? Do you want kids?" There's a hopeful edge to his words that he's obviously trying to smother, but Carlos can hear it loud and clear.

"Tonight, I saw you playing with Charlie and Jonah. I saw the way they looked at you, and- for the first time ever, I thought- I want our kids to look at him like that."

TK's hand squeezes his, his smile lighting up his whole face.

"And when Charlie fell asleep in my arms, I thought, I want this. I want my kid to fall asleep in my arms, and run to me when they're scared or upset. I want them to look at you like you hung the moon and the stars. I- I want you to be a father," he says, out loud, for the first time, "and I want to be a father- and that scares me to death."

TK smiles softly, leans forward to kiss him soft and sweet. When he pulls away, Carlos burrows closer, leaning his forehead on TK's chest. "You know, there's something we can do that's not as permanent as adopting a kid, or surrogacy- and it'll be a way for the both of us to dip our toes in the water, so to speak."

He pulls away to give him a deadpan look. "I don't think getting a dog is the same as having a kid, TK, and they are permanent."

"Not talking about getting a dog."

He frowns.

"We can foster, Carlos. There are a lot of kids who need temporary homes, and we can give it to them."

Carlos' fears ease, just a little bit. He shakes his head, smiles. "You've thought about this," he says, stroking his cheek, letting his thumb rest on the hollow of TK's throat.

TK shrugs. "I had a feeling it wasn't about you not wanting kids, but more along the lines of feeling like you wouldn't be good enough, I guess, so I thought I'd give you options."

He surges forward, kisses him deeply, pressing him into the mattress and only pulling away when they absolutely needed a breath. TK doesn't let him go far, pulls him back in, until every inch of Carlos' body covers his. "Thank you," he whispers against his lips, peppering kisses all over his face.

"I love you," is TK's quiet response.

Carlos kisses him again.

"So, what do you say," TK asks with a smile, hands around Carlos' waist, "you wanna foster a kid with me?"

Carlos smiles, chooses to ignore the twinge of fear and focus on the overwhelming happiness he feels at the thought. "Yes."

"Yeah?" he asks with a beaming smile, "you sure?"

He rolls his eyes playfully. "Just take the yes, TK."

[primordialness]

cw: sadposting; gets into some childhood and sibling baggage but not too deep in the weeds; also chronic pain

If you follow me on more than one app, I am Sorry, you *will* see repeated content! But I have another thing to complain about.

Yesterday, I decided I needed to journal about some sister baggage I have. I realized something important: I have always (and often in unfair ways) wanted and expected her to take my side, to stand up for me, to choose me. I've wanted this from many people--to be willing to tell the people who hurt me that it wasn't okay. It's a whole childhood trauma replay thing.

I went to write her a letter about it that I likely will not send, because I have serious problems with her as a person even outside the problems I have with her as a sister. But I realized two things:

1. Rather than making it a blanket expectation, part of me would like to ask her: *do you feel like fighting the generational trauma with me? Because I feel like we could do it--for your kids--if we worked together.* But... I was parentified. I was basically gifted a savior complex in a handbasket with a pretty bow. How can I ask her to fix this when I don't even know how to judge what is and isn't my responsibility to fix? -> that's a therapy question; I am getting it next week.

2. Then I realized... I'm not even choosing me. I'm not prioritizing my own needs. I've had phases where I prioritized one or two at a time, but overall... I am not choosing me, and therefore, I am not showing anyone that I'm worth choosing.

I committed to fixing that. I re-dedicated myself to my sleep schedule, I did yoga so my back would feel better today, and I planned to go to the grocery store today to get some slightly "better" food (that is, food that makes my body feel good; it is not a moral choice).

... and after a totally restless night, I woke up in worse pain than I've felt in years. Every muscle was stiff as a board. Every joint achey. I couldn't get myself out of bed.

At midday, I remembered that ibuprofen exists. I am quite dumb. I took some. It helped a bit.

Took some more later and took a very long Epsom salt bath... but it wasn't really helping enough. I could tell that the ibuprofen was just holding back the flood.

And I was just so fucking disappointed. Here I was, working on my mental health, choosing myself, taking care of my needs... and my body was fighting against me. So fucking disappointing.

But then, the final realization......

y'all, I got my fucking COVID booster *AND* a tetanus shot yesterday. Two things that BOTH CAUSE MUSCLE SORENESS AND STIFFNESS.

I thought I'd totally backtracked on all the progress I'd made on my chronic pain in the past couple of years, but... NOPE. I JUST GOT OUCHIE POKES.

*sigh* getting better is hard. But I'm getting better.

(A memory appears--my ex's last words to me, a twist of the knife: "Please do. Your 'worst' just got worse. Goodnight and goodbye, V.")

(Fuck off, you fucking melodramatic asshole.)

[pocket-elf]

New Years questionnaire for 2023/24

(Haven't been on tumblr much the past couple of months, nor have I done this for the past four years but hey, I'm here so lets. I know there are several in my archive. Tbh I think I probably used to use this template on Livejournal back in the day! I've made some edits through the years, including this one)

1. What did you do in 2023 that you’d never done before?  I got a job that isn't a temp thing! Sure my previous job was three years in the same place but it was a temp position. This one is solid, if I want to stay. I don't plan to in the long run but it's secure for now. I listened to a lot of new to me music as well. Other than that I don't feel there were any never-done-before type things.

2. Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I don’t do resolutions but I did some crafting goals, which I did NOT keep. I did finish all my reading challenges though! For 2024 I will keep going with reading challenges but nothing else I think.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Nope.

4. Did anyone close to you die? No. My friend's mother did though so I was there for her when she needed some support.

5. What countries did you visit? Cambodia and Vietnam. And technically Denmark as the Copenhagen airport is my closest big international airport.

6. What would you like to have in 2024 that you lacked in 2023? The answer to that is always a girlfriend haha. Girls where you at? Hit me up.

7. What date from 2023 will remain etched upon your memory? I can’t remember dates like ever. But I'm trying to remember January 8th and February 4th as the two dates the emo ball started rolling properly this year. January 8th being the day I bought customs maps in Beat Saber (which really is what started it all) and February 4th being the day I took a walk into town for some candy and had the thought "What if I check out what Fall Out Boy have been up to lately" and then it all just well... really fucking snowballed.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? I guess landing a job finally, that I don't detest with my whole being.

9. What was your biggest failure? I don't know. I suppose not making as much as I wanted to. That's always the case. But this year it's been very little. Probably cause my style changed so much.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? I fell with my bike in May and scraped up my knees and glasses. twisted my shoulder which ende dup giving me trouble in the long run. My right knee took a while to heal from the bad surface wounds (luckily no joint damage) which but stress on my hip and made that problematic. But that cleared up with an intense round of ibuprofen and rest. Elbow is acting up though, probably from work. But I was lucky with the bike fall. Just a few weeks later a friend of my parents collided with another cyclist and ended up in the ICU with brain haemorrhage, fractured skull/ear, needing surgery for arm fractures, etc.

11. What was the best thing you bought? Oh man... I suddenly have had income to spend. Tbh I should probably say plane tickets, cause I really needed that Cambodia vacation. But also like, my whole wardrobe got an overhaul.

12. Did you try any new crafts? (new/replaced question) I made a rag rug on a big loom! It was good fun. I finished weaving in spring but then both me and mum kinda never finished the edges... I guess that's something I need to do in 2024. For the first time I also started working on a big complicated cross stitch. I've done easy things like lil text bits etc, but for my trip I decided cross stitch would be the best to bring for long flight etc as it doesn't take up much space. And ended up converting a still from the video for Black Parade which had me work with like... 10 different shades of blue or something. The main parts are done, I just need to decide what to do about all the white bits (stitches or raw aida) and how to finish the edges as that depends on how I want to display it or what to do with it after. But it was so satisfying to do!

13. Did your home change in any way? (new/replaced question) Kitchen had a big refresh with new floor, painted cabinets/drawers, and new stove/oven. I didn't start the bedroom gallery wall this year but it's been growing a bit. I did however start the living room gallery wall. Turning the lounge half of the living room (the other is sewing space) more and more kinda witchy feeling. Swapped the curtains out for dark blue velvet to go with the lamp and armchair. Got a gorgeous blanket from Disturbia to put in the armchair too so it's all really coming together.

14. Where did most of your money go? Not counting things like rent and food... probably clothes. Gods so many band shirts. No actually let's just say merch. Cause last like, couple of weeks I've bought vinyl and books and such. I did also buy a computer though... but that hasn't reached me yet.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Music. this year has been my year of emo and I love that for me.  

16. What song/album will always remind you of 2023? Oh that's hard considering everything. BUT, So Much (for) Stardust was actually released this year, and I fell hard into Fall Out Boy early enough to actually wait for the album (even if mercifully short compared to the rest of you) So probably all of the songs on that album. But Heaven, Iowa literally made me cry the first time I head it soooo

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: i. happier or sadder? Probably happier? At least less worried. I was actually very content not working but money runs out and I was starting to get frustrated by the near hits in interviews, and worried about not getting any more money come spring. ii. thinner or fatter?  Maybe the same? I was walking more last winter but now I bike. But something I will say though, my body image has improved a lot. Thanks emo crowd?? iii. richer or poorer? Oh for sure richer. I've had a salary! I've been able to save money.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Sewing. Spending time with friends. Definitely wish I would've played more games.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? I mean... working. But no choice in that really.

20. How will you be spending Christmas and New Years? Christmas I spent with my parents having a good dinner and watching my favourite Swedish quiz show. Very chill. It's currently 25 minutes to midnight as I type this answer. I'm in comfy clothes just chilling in bed. I'm gonna try to time Welcome To The Black Parade for a "Carry on" at midnight. EDIT: I didn't even finish this whole thing before midnight. And yes, Black Parade is absolutely perfection for this occasion.

21. Who did you spend the most time on the phone with? Eron I guess? We've spent a lot of time talking in VR as well.

22. Did you fall in love in 2023? Funnily enough this was my answer in 2018, and is this year again: With music yes. 

23. Did you try any new exciting food? (there used to be a question about one night stands here but finally I am changing it) I tried to be open to new things in Cambodia. Tried a couple new fruits, really liked the classic Khmer dish loc lac, and omg in Hoh Chi Minh during our lil trip to Vietnam I found a Japanese bakery that had possibly the best pastry I've ever had... a sweet potato bun that looked like a purple sweet potato and was filled with some kind of sweet potato goo. And it was still a bit warm when I got it. Absolutely insane. Reminded me a bit of almond paste but fluffier and ofc not almond. And at the same bakery i got a hokkaido melon bun that was also heavenly.

24. What was your favourite TV programme? Our Flag Means Death

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? Not hate, but I dislike some people at work and such ofc.

26. What was the best book you read? The big surprise came this summer with Where Are Your Boys tonight? by Chris Payne. First of all I was weary of the format, and second of all. if you had asked me this time last year I would NEVER have guessed a book with the subtitle The Oral History of Emo's Mainstream Explosion 1999-2008 would even enter my reading obit, let alone become the book of the year. And I knew as soon as i had read maybe half of it that it would be that, no matter what I read the second half of the year.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery? I mean... just like, so much? But I guess falling properly in love with Fall Out Boy (I had listened to Save Rock and Roll for a bit back in the day but never really went back to first era or did more than give AB/AP a quick look when it came out) just gave me so much. It was what started it all and I love them dearly. I have never listened to My Chemical Romance, and I even said early this spring "At least I won't listen to My Chemical Romance" as I was falling into the FOB trap. Yeah... that did NOT hold up. At all. They're up there in the faves now.

28. What did you want and get? A new job.

29. What did you want and not get? We all know the answer to that: MCR5

30. What was your favourite film of this year? I didn't watch that many new movies that ween't like, shitty Hallmak tbh. But maybe Red, White & Royal Blue?

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I turned 36. I worked, but left a little early to go home to my parents where my brother and niblings were visiting. So played with them, had dinner and cake.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Maybe getting a job that I was excited about and fit my wishes better than what I have. Don't get me wrong though, I am very relieved to have what I have now. I don't hate it and I get paid alright. I guess falling in love and having a happy relationship would've probably been amazing but we're not even close to anything like that so

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2023? "Oops we went a bit emo didn't we?". I used to be all about skirts and dresses. Never really wore pants. Now my go to outfit is skinny jeans and a band tee and I never thought I'd be here again (well it was never band shirts, but graphic shirts at least) My wardrobe is dark again. Dressing up for Christmas I just went full goth. I am basically going back to my youth but now I have money and can do what I want. And somehow I like my body BETTER in skinny jeans and a tee. My waist isn't even defined??? But yeah, I've always felt drawn to that like, darker alt stuff, even if it hasn't shown since high school. But whenever it pops up on instagram or what have you I go "aw, yeah... nah too much work. And for the young'uns" etc. So now when it has been realised in a form that works for me in my mid 30s it just feels... right. A homecoming of sorts. Finally here it is. It will of course change and evolve too, and I have never been a hardcore single style kind of girl anyway. But that thing that has been buried but stirring for 15 years is finally free again.

33b. Any other changes to your looks this year? Cut off my hair (I have buzzed sides now for the first time too! I've had it all buzzed and overall cut short, but never this kind of do) and we're back to bright colours. Trying partly blue for the first time and loving it. Also added two tattoos, a second big jellyfish on my left arm (which is currently healing and needs touch ups) as well as a trio of macaronies on my stomach (a souvenir from Cambodia) Also started wearing more rings on an everyday basis as well as shoved a stud earring through a half closed hole in my left ear so now I have an ear climber there, and got a cuff for the other. Also started wearing a small faux septum ring (can't pierce my nose, have to many nasal issues)

34. What kept you sane? Music and talking to people online.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? I don't fancy people per se, but all them emo dads are dear to my heart.

36. What political issue stirred you the most? I am just so very tired. But gods, Palestine.

37. Who did you miss? Always friends.

38. Who was the best new person you met? I guess Daniela? She's a good coworker.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2023. Just cause you're in your mid 30s doesn't mean you can't change, or take back what you liked about your youth and had just been dormant for a while.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

I asked Jacey to help me with this and her suggestion was "I'll stop wearing black when they make a darker colour", which is hilarious considering the drastic change of my wardrobe. But there IS other colour in there. Like green. So let's go with

So paint it black and take it back Let's shout it loud and clear Defiant to the end, we hear the call

To carry on, we'll carry on

Last time (end of 2018) I added some new ones, for looking to the future:

41. What is the thing you most look forward to in 2024? I don't actually know! I have no big plans yet. So I think what I look most forward to is to see what kind of good surprises will show up. And where my musical journey will take me.

42. What is the first thing you look forward to in 2024? Minor things: All the stuff I've ordered (and gifts from friends) arriving. Setting up the turntable I really hope I get next week, and buying a shelf/side table thing at IKEA and covering it in contact paper to make a turntable stand and emo shelf in the living room. But bigger: Callie visiting in May.

43. Any upcoming releases make you excited? I will keep hoping for MCR5. I mean they have to be working on that, I refuse to give up hope. And I'm actually curious about the new season of Doctor Who. Haven't watched that for years, but watched the anniversary eps and the Christmas special.

44. Do you have any big plans for the coming year? Like I said, no big plans! I have friends visiting in May and October. I have no idea what to do about vacation. Was thinking about a hiking week with dad but don't know. I have no tickets bought for anything. Hoping a tour with some band I like comes my way (second Europe leg of Tourdust please! I couldn't make it to Berlin. Make it closer next time)

45. What is something you want to accomplish in 2024? I would really like to go to a concert. Is that accomplishing something? I don't know. But yeah. I would really like to nail a tshirt pattern though.

Adding some stat ones:

46. Number of books read According to Goodreads, 59. Which does include a few kids books and a few comic books that weren't like full graphic novels/collections. 2022 was abysmal so my reading goal was low to start with and I increased it a few times. So I'm very happy with 59.

47. Number of movies watched Letterboxd says 64 individual ones, but with some rewatched (like watching YBC like eight times) it's 71. That does include a couple shorts, and like I said also Young Blood Chronicles. But I didn't log the Doctor Who specials that I did see the last few days some of my friends having done. Never even consider checking if they were there cause it's such a tv series kind of thing for me. If we would count those it'd be 75.

48. How was Spotify Wrapped? Top artists were Fall Out Boy (for whom I was in the 0.01% even!) and MCR. Followed by TAI, Dunes, and Gerard. I knew FOB would win when only half the year had passed cause I had done such a sound bath and didn't stop listening after that. But MCR did well. And they both fought in the top 5 songs, coming out at Love From The Other Side, Sharpest Lives, Heaven Iowa, Foundations of Decay, and 27. The last one was actually a conscious effort the last week to bump it with just a few extra listens over some Black Parade song (I Don't Love you maybe?) because it has such a special place in my heart for some reason. Genre wise Spotify really sucked this year. Somehow I didn't even get a top five which is what you should get, and instead just modern rock and pop punk. How this year has been "modern rock" I do not know. How is there no emo or at least alt rock in there? Or even like... indie or something for my lil side step to The Amazing Devil which I liked listening to at work sometimes. Or whatever they count Hozier as. I should have gotten three more genres!

45. How many tattoos are we at now? When you don't stop at two, or maaaaybe three, there is absolutely no stopping. So with two new ones this year we're at 8. 2024 will definitely bring at least another.

[mmunson86]

I mean, as they should nobody is gonna say who delivered the last shot because it don’t matter Craig is going to be 6 feet under and he’s finally out of our lives. He has tortured us far too long. It sounds horrible, but he got what he deserved. Wayne is a saint. Nobody’s gonna snitch on him that man came in and took that MF OUT!

Oh Steve, I know that going to the hospitals are no fun and I can understand on the financial side of why he didn’t want to go but you’re right you have Astrid nothing ibuprofen and a bag of ice can’t fix but you are one hardheaded guy. I’ll tell you that.

Lawd something about Eddie, just being a total mess, holding us kissing us almost to make sure that we’re really there like how it seems that he’s almost a little bit desperate I don’t know it does something to me🫠💗

Well good I’m glad you finally realize that whatever you guys had it was good while it lasted but he is no longer interested in you baby girl you need to stop you need to stop before I put hands on you off ego Melanie you had your chance

Seriously the details so far up to where I’m at right now reading oh my goodness Eddie’s just being so sweet, so gentle, you always find the right combination of words to really set the reader in the moment, and I appreciate the hell out of you for that and I know our trauma is internal but man have we missed him I turned into a mess when he said the following

“Let me take care of you, baby,” 💗🫠

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you mine.”

@bettyfrommars baby are you trying to kill me? Are you trying to end me? Jesus Christ it is so steamy yet so romantic yet so thoughtful like does that make sense because it makes sense in my head and the way that imagining it. 🥹💗

No seriously because hearing Wayne say that we are a keeper would make me cry too, because for a fact, we all know that Eddie values his uncles opinion like there’s no doubt about it. This is basically his dad, not even his uncle at this point this man raised him We love you, Wayne.😭💗

Steve Harrington get your head out of your ass and just get with Astrid because that little snippet of them like I I don’t. I don’t know how they’re not together like stop messing around Steve this is your girl!

All i can say is wow wow i love what you have done there has been so much growth within our own character too! Like the whole Erika working at the Velvet Hammer & the way you described how it didn’t matter because Eddie only saw US like YES! Let the healing & growth continue i love to see it!

You can tell that Eddie loved his mom the way he gets emotional whenever she is brought up , i know that he had a good relationship with her & man do we wish she was still around i know we would love her , i feel like in ways maybe Eddie embodies her from within

No freaking way! Nancy? That is so bad ass i love love love what you did there , can this chapter get any better🥹💗

Charlene you biiitch! LMAO this bitch has had the HOLY TRINITY! When does this woman stop seriously i was starting to feel bad for being harsh but nope i see that this woman has not changed one bit!

You did such an incredible job. The wait was so worth it I’m telling you every time I read on your chapters as like I am living in a soap opera i love it i cant get enough! I seriously appreciate the hell out of you thank you. 💗🥹

Me after todays chapter!💗🥹⬇️

I'm on Fire

biker!eddie x fem!reader

Part 16: All Along the Watchtower

series masterlist playlist

18+ONLY

There is a lot of healing in this chapter, some smut and allusions to smut, alcohol consumption, lots of love, but also some new characters drop into the scene and there will be some angst at the end. If you have come this far in the story, you know what to expect. There will be song lyrics from the band Tool. Steve with an OC character. Mention of healing wounds, a dead body, chemo treatments, and plenty of unprotected sex.

word count: 6.8k

a/n: I mentioned in a post the other day that, instead of 2 final chapters of 10-11k, that I'd be splitting them up and doing four more posts with less words, so there will be several more parts to come. I know it's been almost 2 months since the last chapter, but I'm looking forward to giving this most of my attention for the rest of the year. I have so much love for those of you who are still with me.

"There must be some kind of way outta here Said the joker to the thief There's too much confusion I can't get no relief..."

-- Jimi Hendrix, All Along the Watchtower

The aftermath of everything that conspired in the parking lot that night was a whirlwind.

There were way too many witnesses for the cops not to get involved, but there was also an underlying mutual respect for an outlaw level of revenge justice when someone hurts one of your own.  When bystanders and club members were questioned as to who made the final killshot, there was a contagious memory loss that made everyone shrug and shake their heads. 

Collectively, no one saw anything.

Everyone saw Wayne, but also—no they did not.

Wayne was going through chemo treatments and hadn’t been an active member of the club for years; no one in law enforcement would ever expect him to be involved, and everyone silently agreed to keep it that way. 

Charlene caught a stray bullet in the shoulder, and even lied straight-faced to the police about what had happened.  She waited for someone to blame her, somehow, for Craig’s death, but no one pointed fingers, they all just acted like their memories had been erased.  Inside the ambulance on the gurney, she caught Steve looking across the parking lot at her just before the EMT’s shut the doors.  His expression remained unresponsive, but he stood and watched the vehicle leave the premises before turning to limp over to Astrid’s truck.

Steve was not in great shape, either, and he almost fell twice when he first tried to stand.  Robin caught him on the second stumble and had him brace his arm around her shoulders.  The EMT’s tried to get Steve to the hospital, but he refused.  Partially because he hated hospitals, and also because there’s no way he could afford a meat wagon escort, let alone whatever bill he racked up while in their care.  A handful of ibuprofen, a bag of frozen peas, and some patched together magic from Astrid’s medical bag would have to do.  

Before the medics arrived, Eddie grabbed his leather jacket out of one of the saddlebags on his bike and had it wrapped around your shoulders as he pinned you close to him with both arms, as tight as he could without hurting you.  “Baby baby baby I’m here, I’m here…never gonna let you go…” he hushed it over and over, trying to calm himself as much as you.  You found his eyes were wet when he tipped your chin up gently with his finger, pressing kisses across your skin that was sprinkled with dried blood.  He parted your mouth with his tongue, just slightly, letting it graze your top lip.  His voice trembled when he said he loved you before sealing the words with another soft kiss.  

Still observing from the steps of the hotel, Melanie watched the interaction between you and Eddie, and the realization that he would never be hers ever again finally sank in, hitting the pit of her stomach like a lead weight.

Eddie sat next to you on the back of Hopper’s Bronco and held your hand while you told the Chief about your abduction.  Anger curled Eddie’s lip when you recited the horrific events, and his eyes narrowed on Craig getting zipped into a body bag, wishing it were possible to kill someone for a second time.  

You sprained your ankle, and had a few surface cuts and bruises, but most of your trauma was internal.  You told Eddie you were fine, but he wouldn’t rest until the EMT’s checked you out.

Eddie got the shower temperature at your place just right before helping you in with him so that he could gently wash the blood from your face and shampoo your hair.  He took his time soaping every part of you; even had you put all of your weight on him so he could clean your feet with meticulous precision, being extra careful with your bad ankle.  He wanted every trace of Craig and all that had happened to be washed away.  You swept his wet hair back from his face as he stood to full height, and wrapped your arms around his neck to bring his forehead to yours.  

Things got slippery and before you knew it, you were moving Eddie’s hand down between your legs as the steam rose up around you.  He didn’t think you’d be ready, not after such a traumatic experience, but then he could feel the slick that had nothing to do with shower water.  He ran his big, calloused fingers through your folds, and then worked that button at the top of your slit until it hardened under his fingertips.

You clung to him, letting go of erotic sighs between deep, sensual kisses that felt like you needed each other’s oxygen to survive.  “I’ve missed you so much,” you said into the crook of his neck, grabbing the hard curve of his cock to pump at the tip.

“Let me take care of you, baby,” he hushed, dipping two of his fingers inside to give your muscles something to clench around.  

A few deep thrusts and then he spun you around, holding you tight so that you wouldn’t slip.  The fingers of one hand found your clit again, rolling in circles there, while his other hand came up to cup your breast and pluck at your nipple.  You shuddered and tilted your head back so he could suck and nibble at your throat.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured.  “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you mine.”

You writhed in his arms, reaching back to hold his head, while his fingers kept pace and your cunt fluttered.  You could feel your knees giving way.

“That’s right, my baby, give it all to me.”

“Fuck!” One more whimper and the orgasm shattered you, making you tremble and sink against him.  The thought never occurred to  you that you would fall because he had you locked so tight in his embrace.

His hard length rested between your asscheeks, and you turned around to take it into your hand and face him.  He held your chin and found your mouth again, pitching his hips into your hand until ropes of his cum were shooting against your leg and into the tub.  You took the head of his cock and rubbed it along your slit to spread his seed there, and then took your fingers into  your mouth and sucked them clean. Eddie groaned at the sight, grabbing your face again to kiss you long and hard.

The rest of the sex that night was slow and tender, full of breathy words of devotion as your bodies met and became one.  Fingers laced, and your legs wrapped around him. Eddie rolled his hips so that you could feel every inch of him inside of you, and you matched his movements, watching his eyes flutter before they opened to meet yours again, lips grazing.  For a moment, it was hard to tell where he ended and you began, and you wanted to stay like that forever.

Even though Craig was gone, Eddie was still reluctant to leave you, and he came by several times a day while he was working the tow truck.  He brought you soup from the diner, and picked up a potted plant, because he didn’t want you to have to watch flowers die in a vase.  He even got special tuna treats for Charlie and stopped off to rent videos for you to watch with you on the couch after he showered and returned from his place.  

Besides the time it took to talk to Katie and let her know what happened before she went over to Robin’s, Eddie was the only person you interacted with for the week before it was time to go back to work.  You tried to return sooner, but Shana refused.  You needed the loud music and the crowds of the Velvet Hammer, they were such a welcome distraction from your thoughts.  

It was a part of Eddie’s routine to buy groceries for Wayne every so often, now that he didn’t have as much energy because of chemo, much like Wayne used to do for him back when he was a kid, and his dad would disappear for months at a time.  You pulled together the ingredients for one of your grandmother’s favorite casserole dishes and made dinner for them both at the trailer one night, sipping on wine, and listening to your boyfriend and his uncle reminisce on stories from back in the day. 

You were taking everyone’s dishes to the sink when you heard Wayne say to Eddie, “that one is a keeper,” and it made your eyes water, for whatever reason.  Maybe because you know how much his uncle’s opinion meant to him.

—----

Steve had to be back at work the same night as you, and an hour before, Astrid straddled his lap in one of her silk robes to apply some ointment on his face while he ran his scarred hands up and down her bare thighs.  Her skin was soft and smelled of cocoa butter, and her long, curly hair draped over their shoulders like a curtain to keep them safe.  

“Don’t punch anyone tonight, okay?” She whispered, scooping hair behind his ear as she tended to the ugly gash on his cheek under the ugly yellow coloring around his eye. “Your fingers need a chance to heal.” 

Steve had been at her place on and off since the incident.  He’d stay the night, and then be up before the crack of dawn to be back at the house when Oliver woke up.  For the first time ever, he canceled a few tattoo appointments so that he could get the rest that the girls had been begging him to take.  He hated not having something to do; it made him bounce his knee and grind his teeth so that the muscles in his jaw bulged.

Steve worked a piece of gum inside his mouth and took in Astrid’s face from under hooded eyes, scooting her hips flush to his body, digging his fingers into the meat of her thighs.  “Why don’t you come by and see me tonight? I’ll buy you a drink. Maybe I’ll put you on the sink in the bathroom and have some fun like old times.”

One side of her full mouth lifted in a grin.  “Tempting,” she leaned in to touch her nose to his. “But I think I might sit this one out.”

“You can sit it out on my face, sugar,” he brought the bright green gum between his front teeth and held it there until she took the chewed piece into her own mouth.

“We’ll see,” and then she slid off of him, resisting his tug on her arm to pull her back down.

He rolled his head along the back of the couch, watching her walk behind him.  “Can I at least have my gum back?”

“No,” she answered flatly, disappearing into the kitchen.  

—-----

You and Eddie rolled up to the Velvet Hammer just after Steve, and he was finishing a smoke, still straddling his bike in the parking lot when he offered you a raised eyebrow and a two-finger wave.  Eddie slid into the spot next to him, facing the red brick exterior, and shut the engine off, planting his feet on either side to keep the beast steady.

“What is this? Bring your old man to work day?” Steve snaked his tongue out over his bottom lip, exhaling smoke from his nose. He had his sunglasses pushed up on his head, squinting against the glow of the sunset, one arm crossed over his chest. 

You giggled to yourself while you dismounted, pulling your leg through to avoid the sissy bar that had been at your back. You were used to Steve and his banter.  If he was teasing you, it meant he cared about you; it was a bit of a rite of passage.  He’d never admit it out loud, but you were special to him now—you were family, and he would look after you like he looked after his own. 

“Well,” Eddie took his helmet off and tucked some hair behind his ear, giving his friend a pointed look.  “I hear that the security here really sucks.”

“I told him he didn’t have to babysit me tonight,” you piped up, adjusting the backpack on your shoulder that had all of your work clothes inside. Eddie curled his fingers at you, asking for your helmet, so you passed it to him.  “But, what can I say? He’s growing on me,” and then you pressed up against his chest, making him puff air out of his nose at the sudden contact, and you kissed the side of his neck. 

“I’ll grow for you sweetheart, if you keep it up,” he mumbled.

Steve snorted and threw the butt of his smoke to the pavement.  A wave of sudden melancholy washed over him at the sight of the two of you.  

He’d been battling with himself the past few days, fighting the urge to call Charlene, to make sure she was okay, even though he hated her guts for what she’d tried to do to his family and everyone else.  There was a deep pit of loneliness in her, and when he’d stared into the void, the void had stared back.  He recognized a part of himself in her, like a dark foreshadowing for his life 15 years down the road.  A life of jumping from partner to partner, trying to gather every crumb of attention because he refused to let one person love him.  He told himself that Robin and Oliver were all he needed, but one day Robin would have her own life with a partner, perhaps with Katie, and Oliver would move out and become his own person.  He thought about Astrid, and how his mere presence in her life held her back from finding someone who could commit to her and give her the comfortable life she deserved.

“See you inside, freaks,” Steve pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes and favored his right leg with a hitch and a hop on his way to the building, making his wallet chain bounce out to the side.  

“Should he be riding his motorcycle with that bad leg?” You asked with your mouth on the leather of Eddie’s shoulder.

“Probably not,” Eddie breathed, watching his friend go.  “But you can’t tell Steve shit.”

Eddie escorted you to the back door in the alley and waited for you to be inside before he went around to the front to take the bar entrance.  He didn’t plan to stay the whole night, he’d leave for a bit in the middle of your shift and go do some work a the shop, but the fear of losing you—as he had so many people in his life—was still lingering like barbs in his heart, and he only hoped you didn’t get tired of him being around all the time.  

In the narrow locker room, you shared a space with Jackie who was also getting ready for her shift. She hugged you violently, and it startled you, because she was not prone to physical displays of affection.  

“Bitch, you had me scared to death,” she gushed.  “I almost puked from relief when they said you were okay.”

She had her heels on and her already tall, voluptuous frame towered over you.  “I missed you too, hooker,” you gave a lopsided grin once she stepped back to look at your face, noting the healing cuts over your lip and eyebrow.  “You think my battle scars will milk some extra tips out of people tonight?”

The comment made Jackie scoff a laugh, but her eyes were glossy with emotion, giving a few light squeezes to your shoulders.  “You sure you’re good to work tonight? I know Shana would let me cover for you.”

You heaved a long sigh and clanked the metal of your locker open.  “The last thing I need is to be at home with my wheels spinning for another night.” Everyone was treating you like glass, and all you wanted was to feel normal again.

Even though you were relieved that the terror that Craig had put you through in your life was finally over, you mourned his death in your own way.  He had a mother and a sister out there somewhere who loved him very much and would be devastated by his passing.  You’d also never watched someone get shot and killed right in front of you before, and you hoped that you never had to see such a thing again.  

Jackie adjusted her red and black Velvet Hammer cap sleeve tee that was tucked into her leather miniskirt, and moved over to apply her maroon lipstick in the mirror, making her mouth into an O shape. The music from the main room was loud when someone opened the hallway door to head over to the kitchen.  “That guy John was here asking about you the other day.  Remember the big tipper who wanted to be your sugar daddy?”

“I think so,” You said it absently, as if you weren’t sure, pulling your tiny red shorts up your legs.  

“He came in alone, sat at the bar for a drink, and I overheard him asking about you, if you were okay,” she unzipped her purse and dug through it.  “I guess he heard about what happened.”

Yes, you imagined that he had heard about what happened. You wondered how much Charlene had told him.    

Jackie punched her beige time card into the machine on the wall and you followed suit, deep in thought over why John was trying to track you down at the Hammer instead of calling you on the phone.  

“Honestly, I’ve missed the fuck out of you,” Jackie said over her shoulder, pulling open the hallway door to the sea of cigarette smoke and the song Wave of Mutilation by The Pixies.  “The new girl gets on my nerves.”

You barely had time to ask who the new girl was before a familiar face framed by a platinum blonde bob stood in your path wearing a matching shirt with a tray full of what looked like Jägermeister shots.  

It was Erika.

“Oh, you must be the new girl,” you were a bit flustered, but on your list of worries, she was very low.  You could tell she was nervous to see you, and wobbled the tray, chewing her gum nervously.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said in a rush. “That I got a job here, I mean.  My sister is friends with Shana and I really needed the money because—-”

You shook your head and gave her a genuine smile that harbored no animosity.  “Of course I don’t mind,” you shuffled around her to get to the bar, thinking about how she seemed a bit afraid of you, and there was no need to be. “Did you say hi to Eddie? He’s here.” You reached around to tie a short apron with pockets around your hips. 

Her mouth gaped like a dying fish a few times. “Well, I, no…not yet…I mean, I won’t, if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t mind,” you glanced up and caught Eddie’s eye at the bar.  You thought about all of the obstacles, all of the crap life had tried to throw your way to tear the two of you apart, and you’d both weathered the storm to find you were closer than ever.  You trusted Eddie with your life, and you knew that he only had eyes for you—he proved it to you every day.  

“I wanted you to know that what you did the other night was really badass,” Erika leaned in, eyes sparkling when they met yours.  And there it was, an understanding, a mutual truce, an unlikely friendship broadening on the horizon. 

Well, a friendship was unlikely, but a truce, at least.  

You didn’t know how to take the compliment, but you thanked her, and told her that you liked her earrings, and then you winked at Eddie before heading over to check on your first table.  He was at the bar having a Coke and talking to Thumper, who was also a patron that evening, and you could see that he was nodding, pretending to hear what his friend was saying, but all the while, his attention kept shifting to you.  

It was one of the last warm nights before the fall weather hit, and so Steve was sitting on his stool out on the pavement, propping the door open with the weight of his back.  He surprised himself by realizing he wasn’t in a flirtatious mood.  A few hotties who smelled like heaven were basically ready to gobble him up if he let them, but he barely gave their ID’s a glance and waved them through.  

He had a thick rubber band from the cash register that he was playing with, stretching it wide with his thumbs. Caught up in one of his daydreams, the rubber band accidentally shot out and almost nailed the person who was stepping up onto the sidewalk.

Astrid ducked just in time for it to zing through her hair instead of nailing her cheek.  

Steve experienced a bolt of recognition a second too late and was on his feet, almost knocking the stool over.  “Shit, baby, I’m sorry,” but then she started laughing, and they were both smiling when they kissed, teeth knocking together. 

She took two steps back so that his eyes could drink her in; the dark maroon dress with a slit up the thigh and generous scoop neck, it was one of her many handmade pieces to make room for her ample hips and hourglass shape.  Instead of a shawl, she had on a jean jacket this time, fingers and ears adorned in subtle gold jewelry.  

He pushed some thick curls away from her face and planted his lips on her forehead as he spoke.  “I missed you.”

“You just saw me a few hours ago,” she tilted her head back to lock her dark eyes onto his. “I came to make sure you behave yourself.”  

His smile was rueful—dangerous, even. He wiped his tongue over the point of his gold tooth. “You can’t come here in a dress like that and expect me to behave, sweetheart.”

A group of partiers went to try and stumble through the door, but Steve was quick to shove his hand against the doorframe, blocking them with his tattooed arm.  “Need to see ID’s first,” his tone was suddenly that of gruff, tough bouncer Steve, and not the sweet little loverboy from a few seconds ago. 

Once he’d given them all a stern look, he hurried back to grab for Astrid’s hands again, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. “What’s your poison tonight darlin’? Just tell Shana to put it on my tab.”

She wasn’t about to let Steve pay for her drinks, but she nodded.  He tucked a padded stool from the bar just inside the door close to him while she was ordering her gin and tonic, giving Eddie a shoulder squeeze as she waited.  When she looked over at Steve again, he patted the seat a few times eagerly so that she would know where to go. 

—-------

A while later, as the bar filled up, Eddie was moving his head to the beat of the Muddy Waters tune “I’m your hoochie coochie man” when you came over to give him a back scratch and tuck his hair so you could smooch his ear.  The 1958 film The Crawling Eye was playing on the screen above the bar.

“What do you say? Can I be your hoochie coochie man, babe?” he muttered.  And then, dropping his gaze to his drink he added softly: “My mom loved Muddy Waters.”

One of the many layers you had yet to peel back on the onion of Eddie Munson was his relationship, or lack thereof, with his mother.  You always got the feeling that he didn’t want to talk about it, but more and more, you could feel him opening up on the subject and referencing her, wanting to finally let you know more about that facet of his life. From Robin you knew that she passed away when he was young, but that was the extent of it.

“Your mom had good taste,” you tipped his chin so that he could see your sincerity.  “I wish I could’ve met her.”

“Me too,” he blinked his glossy chocolate eyes a few times and took a hard gulp. “I think I might head over to the garage for a couple hours, but I’ll be back to pick you up.” 

“You should stay,” Shana, sporting a freshly shaved head and a new tattoo just above her ear, slapped the flat of her hand on the wood of the bar in front of him to get his attention, and then she gestured to the stage.  “Divine Filth is playing tonight.”

You could tell that finding out that one of the local bands, Divine Filth, was playing at the Hammer was a welcome surprise for Eddie when you saw his face light up.  They were another metal/rock band from a few towns over, you found out, and one of his friends was the lead singer. They’d played dozens of shows with Corroded Coffin over the years, and Eddie used to play lead on a few songs with them.  

“They just got back from Pedal to the Metal,” Shana continued.  Even you knew that Pedal to the Metal was a huge 3-day rock festival that happened every year up near Chicago, and even Eddie’s band had played there once. 

You saw that Eddie was contemplating the news, and weighing his options, gnawing on his bottom lip.  You decided to slide down closer, resting your elbow on the bar.  “Can’t whatever you have to do at the garage wait? Or maybe one of the guys can handle it? I’d love for  you to stay.”

His eyes snapped to yours, and his response was quick.  “Yeah, I mean, I’ll stay if you want me to.”

That was all he ever wanted, for you to tell him what you needed.  For you to say that you needed him.  

You put your forehead to his, fingers twirling in the baby hairs at his neckline. “Stay and be my hoochie coochie man.”

He mouthed a few words to the song against your lips before sinking in for a kiss.

Then, he pushed his soda aside and ordered a beer.  Thumper caught wind that he suddenly had a drinking buddy and gave the signal for two shots of “their finest”.  

—-----

Meanwhile, at the other end of town, Katie was at Robin’s again. She’d been staying there every night since it all happened.  Partly to give you and Eddie some space, but also, on her trip, she’d realized that she didn’t want to be away from her girlfriend any longer than she had to.

She was in love, like head over heels, for the first time in her adult life.

Once Oliver was fast asleep in his bedroom, the two were hustling to take their clothes off, gushing words of love in breathy whispers in the dark, needing to be as close together as possible. Robin was three fingers deep when Katie admitted that she’d never loved anyone this much before, and it made Robin go still, to ask her if she meant it, and to tell her she felt the same.

After their orgasms, Robin was straddling Katie’s lap, tasting her own release on her girlfriend’s tongue, when she decided to finally open up about what had been on her mind lately.

She’d meant to work it into conversation, but instead, she blurted it: “Do you want to move in here? With me…with us?” Her mouth dried up after she asked it, wondering if it was too soon, too ridiculous.  She swallowed hard, making a click noise in her throat. “I talked to Steve about it.  I haven’t talked to Oliver yet, but I will.”

Katie bucked her hips up so that their swollen lips brushed together, still dripping with cum.  She was quiet as she let the idea sink in.

Robin tucked some hair behind her ear and glanced down, reading her silence wrong. “I know it’s not a huge house, and we only have the one bathroom, and I get that it’s not very glamorous to shack up with a woman who already has a kid and a life partner.  But I think that I, I think that we, could—”

“You know I’m not the glamorous type,” the other woman interrupted, catching Robin’s chin to run her thumb along her bottom lip. She locked eyes with her. “We could always get a bigger house one day, down the road, all of us. I’m not worried about that.”

“So, you’ll think about it down the road, maybe?” 

“Robs, I don’t want to spend another night without you in my bed.”

“You don’t?” She was surprised, but also, not sure if she’d answered her yet or not.  

Other than her brother Dan who lived across the country, and a mother she’d never been close with, Katie had rarely known the comforts of family, but she had found what she’d always been missing within the cleave of the Harrington-Buckley clan.  It wasn’t a living situation that would suit everyone, but the idea of making a life in that corner of the world had her insides glowing.  She’d need to discuss it with you, and give you plenty of notice if you were okay with it.  The way things were going with you and Eddie, Katie had a good feeling that the two of you were considering the same merging of households, anyway.  

“I’d understand if you didn’t want to.  I know this is an unconventional situation, and I wouldn’t blame you for—”

Katie cut her off and put her hands on either side of Robin’s face. Her words bubbled in her chest, a smile soft on her lips. The “yes” she spoke was followed by a nudge of the nose, a suck on her bottom lip, and then she was repeating it over and over as Robin pushed her to the bed and got on top of her.  

—--------

You were able to catch the way Eddie’s demeanor softened once he started to relax and ease into the evening. He was laughing at Thumper’s theatrics, chuckling so hard, the apples of his cheeks turned pink.  Steve led Astrid by the hand to one of the only two bathrooms at one point, and the next thing you knew, there was a line of 3 or 4 people waiting to use it, so you had to give the door a polite knock, loud enough to be heard over the Jimi Hendrix song that was playing.

Astrid came out adjusting her dress, with no lipstick on, and Steve followed, wiping his mouth suspiciously, and palming the bulge in his jeans.  He chuckled at the way your head was cocked, and mumbled a cheeky, “I was on my break,” before heading back to his stool.  

When the members of Divine Filth showed up from the back entrance with their instruments, you could tell who the lead singer was immediately; she had a distinct presence.  She was small but poised, hair dyed black with one side of her head shaved, and the other side long down to her shoulders.  She had on leather pants and a ripped shirt cropped at her waist, with tattoos on her biceps.

She looked around the room, taking stock of the place as the other members went to set up.  You were standing to full height after setting some drinks down at a table full of Hell’s Belles when you watched her spot Eddie.

She let out a squeal and headed over to him with a bounce in her step. Eddie sprang off of his stool to return her embrace, lifting her up off her feet in an enthusiastic hug.  The second her feet touched the ground again, Eddie was waving you over, wanting to introduce you.  

“This is my girl,” he pulled you flush to his side the second you were within arms reach.  “Baby, this is my friend Nancy, the lead singer of Divine Filth.”

Nancy Wheeler stuck her hand out for you to shake and told you that she’d already heard a lot about you.

“Yeah, from who?” Eddie was curious because it had been almost a year since he’d talked to Nancy.  

“Robin,” she said, and of course, Eddie should have known.  She shrugged, “we catch up every now and then. Steve gave me some new ink a few months ago.”

There was melancholy in her voice, and you’d find out later that Robin and Nancy had a brief thing once, back in high school, back when they were always in detention together for destroying school property.  Nancy was a pyro in her own right.  She had fond memories of letting Steve practice tattooing on both her and Robin in her parents basement while drinking beers they stole from the QuikMart.  

“Robin couldn’t make it out tonight,” Eddie let her know in a cautious tone, wondering if she’d had her hopes up.

“Oh I know, she told me,” she said in a rush.  “She’s with someone and she’s happy and I’m happy for her.” And if she wasn’t, I’d do something about it, she thought to herself.

You couldn’t tell if she meant every word, or if she was trying to convince herself as she spoke them.  

“So, big boy,” Nancy put a hand on her hip, wanting to change the subject, and raised an eyebrow at Eddie, clapping him on the arm.  “You going to grace us with your presence on stage tonight?”

Eddie immediately started shaking his head to decline, but you were quick to turn to him with those wide, hopeful eyes, and it made him pause.  “Maybe,” he mused, noting your intense interest, and then turned his attention back to Nancy.  “My girl has never seen me play before.”

“No shit?” Nancy was genuinely surprised, jaw going slack.  “Dude, your man kills it up there.  He’s got star power, and I wish he’d get his head out of his ass and come out to do more shows with us.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a little thing called running your own business, and I don’t recommend it,” Eddie grumbled, as one hand reached for the next beer Thumper was passing him and the other smoothed circles on your back.  

There were tables waiting, and more people coming in, so you excused yourself and snaked your arm out from around Eddie.  He took hold of the back of your neck and guided you back to kiss the side of your head one more time before you were out of reach again.  

There was one dancer shimmying down the pole to the song Stinkfist by Tool, and it was the last performance of the evening before Divine Filth started their set.  Nancy was up on the stage riser helping to situate things where she wanted them, and the tips were flowing into your pockets just as fast as patrons were knocking back shots.  The front door that had once been propped open by Steve’s body was shut now, locking the bar in a dim, red glow, billowing in a smog of nicotine fumes.  

“… Just not enough, I need more

Nothing seems to satisfy

I said, I don't want it, I just need it

To breathe, to feel, to know I'm alive…”

Astrid had gone home by then, and Thumper was casually watching the door as Steve made his way over to see Nancy, and every time the door opened, you took a deep breath of the fresh air, trying to clean out your lungs. This time, when you felt the gush of cool breeze flush your skin, you were on the way across the room with a drink order, and you absently looked up to see who was coming in.

“… Finger deep within the borderline

Show me that you love me and that we belong together

Relax, turn around and take my hand…”

You stopped in your tracks when you saw who it was, one foot paused in the air behind you, mid-stride.

There, silhouetted against the backdrop of the street, stood Charlene.

The black bodysuit she had on made her look like Sandy from Grease, but her shoulder was wrapped in a bandage, and standing next to her was a guy in a red shirt, jeans, a wallet chain, and a leather MC kutte with the insignia for Lucifer’s Own on it.  He was maybe 30, looked like a blonde version of Rob Lowe, and he had his elbow out for Charlene to hold onto.  

Now, you didn’t know all of the politics about biker etiquette, or any “turf” battles like they sang and danced about in musicals, but it was well known that the Hammer was a Coffin Kings bar, and you’d never seen another insignia step foot in the door, other than Hell’s Belles and Eastside Reapers, since you’d started working there. 

Thumper caught sight of the guy who had just come in the door and spun on his stool, about to stand up, but Eddie snatched his arm, and you were sure he stiffly told him to sit back down.  Eddie found your eyes over a few shoulders that were pressed together in the crowd, and you exchanged a weary look of disbelief.  

The blonde biker gave Thumper a feral grin, wiggling the tip of his tongue between his teeth.  Charlene seemed more reserved than normal, not as full of herself, and she was very preoccupied with searching the sea of bodies.  

You had a good feeling who she was looking for.  

You were glad that Erika was there to motion them over to a table that she had just cleaned off.  It was in the corner, further away from the bar.  

You were just about to go over to ask Eddie who Charlene was with when a customer blocked your path and gave you a multiple drink order out of the blue, and you had to tell them to give you a second while you caught your bearings.

Now you were trying to see where Steve was, to play interference, but it was too late.

“… I can help you change

Tired moments into pleasure

Say the word and we'll be

Well upon our way

Pain and comfort, deep within you

Till you will not want me any other way...”

You spun on your heel to find that Steve had already spotted the newcomers.  You watched the muscles in his face tense, standing with his fists balled at his sides for a few seconds, and then Eddie was there, in his face, pushing him back, trying to get him to keep his cool.

The blonde biker at Charlene’s table put his feet up on the seat next to him and lit a cigarette, seemingly without a care in the world.

“It’s not worth it, man,” Eddie grumbled to Steve, holding his hand on chest. “Let’s just have a good time tonight, forget about them.”

Steve’s eyes were locked in the distance, sunglasses now hooked onto the front of his shirt.  “What the fuck is she doing here with Billy Hargrove?”

“Who knows what kind of game she’s playing,” he moved to try and block Steve’s view of them.  “Listen, if he crosses a line, we’ll bounce him, otherwise we let it ride, got it? There’s too many eyes on us here tonight to cause a scene, especially after last week.”

In a strange turn of events, Shana, the manager, came out from behind the bar and went over to greet Charlene and her companion.  She shook both of their hands, and the two women appeared to know each other. 

“...Knuckle deep inside the borderline

This may hurt a little but it's something you'll get used to..."

“Hey,” you squished your way in between some people at the bar, and caught Shana’s attention when she returned.  “How do you know those two?”

Shana cracked open a few beer tops as she spoke.  “She’s some rich lady, I only met her yesterday.  Stephen, one of the owners, sold his share of the Hammer to her and moved to Florida literally in the middle of the night.”

“… I'll keep digging

Till I feel something

Elbow deep inside the borderline

Show me that you love me and that we belong together…”

You made a sour face, trying to understand what Shana was telling you, but then, realization dawned just as she was sharing the final bit of information with you:

“Charlene Gregson is part owner of the Velvet Hammer now.”

-------

I love you all! I have some fun things planned for the few final chapters of this story, I'm even working on a holiday special💗 Your thoughtful commentary and reblogs always mean so much to me.

--------

Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo@bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975@falling-solar-system @secretdryrose@kurdtbean @whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @dandelionnfluff @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll

[timelesslords]

I’ve Got This Fever

Read on AO3

In which Annabeth catches the flu, and domestic fluff ensues 

Annabeth woke up in pain. 

This wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence. Being a demigod, Annabeth was no stranger to pain. She’d had broken bones, burns, cuts, stab wounds…. you name an injury, Annabeth Chase had probably experienced it. 

But this was a different kind of hurt, a hurt Annabeth hadn’t felt in a long time. Her head was pounding. Her mouth was drier than the Sahara desert. Her muscles ached, and even the soft sheets and pajamas she was wearing felt like knives on her skin. Despite being under a mountain of covers, she was shivering, bitterly cold.

There was no doubt about it. Annabeth was sick. 

Annabeth never got sick.

She groaned, sitting up. That turned out to be a bad idea as a wave of nausea rolled over her, and she lowered herself back onto her pillows, falling the last half of the distance. She felt Percy shift beside her, woken from her movement. 

“Hey,” he said, the smile fading quickly from his face as he saw her own expression, which was probably nothing short of miserable. “What’s wrong?” 

“I feel like crap.”

She surprised even herself with how horrible her voice sounded, raspy and dry. Percy frowned, reaching out and touching her forehead. He normally ran hot, but now his fingers felt cool against her skin, almost painfully so.

“You’re burning up.” he said, frown deepening. 

“I’m freezing.” Annabeth croaked. As if to prove her point, she shivered involuntarily.

“That’s the fever talking.” Percy said grimly, “Hold on.”

He climbed out of bed. His warmth left with him, and Annabeth was left just that much colder, trembling under the covers. Percy couldn’t have been gone more than two minutes, but it felt like an eternity. 

When he returned he was holding a thermometer and a glass of water. 

“Temperature first. The water might mess with the reading.” He said, apologetic. She wanted to hate him for that because she was so thirsty she thought she might die, but she knew he was right. 

Annabeth sat up slowly. Thankfully this time she just felt a little dizzy and not nauseous. The thermometer was cold and uncomfortable under her tongue, but Percy kept a steadying hand on her back, rubbing small circles into her shoulder with his thumb. With her oversensitive skin it almost hurt, but she leaned into the contact anyways. 

When the thermometer beeped, Percy traded it for the glass of water. Annabeth nearly downed the entire glass in one gulp. 

“A hundred and one.” he announced, flipping the display so she could see. The number was lit up in red, signaling that she did, in fact, have a fever. 

“I can’t be sick. I have class.” Annabeth said. Her voice was a little improved by the water, but she still sounded kind of terrible.

“Just email your professors and tell them you can’t make it.” Percy said, as if this were the easiest thing in the world. 

For him it probably was. He did his best with school, but he also wasn’t opposed to ditching class every once in a while and blaming it on a fabricated stomach bug, something Annabeth found absolutely abhorrent. She hadn’t missed one class in her entire college career, and she wasn’t about to start now. 

“It’s fine. I’ll just take some tylenol and I’ll be good to go.” Annabeth said. Percy gave her an exasperated look. 

“Beth. You probably have the flu, you can’t go to class like this.” 

“It’s just a little fever.” Annabeth protested. Really, she was already starting to feel better. It was just waking up that had been the hard part, and some ibuprofen would knock her headache and high temperature right out. Percy didn’t look so convinced, but what did he know.

“If you say so.” Percy said, crossing his arms over his chest. Annabeth looked at him suspiciously.

“You’re not going to fight me on this?” she asked. Percy just gave a shrug, though his expression was a stubborn one.

“Nope. You can go right ahead.” Percy said, gesturing his hand off the bed. There was no way he should be giving up this easily, but if he wasn’t going to argue with her, Annabeth wasn’t going to be the one to start it. 

She swung her legs carefully over the edge of the bed, glancing again at Percy. He gave her a go ahead look, so she did. The second she tried to put weight on her feet, her vision blacked out and her knees buckled. She would have fallen flat on her face if Percy hadn’t been waiting there to catch her. Her headache immediately doubled in intensity, and Annabeth groaned.

“Still wanna go to class?” Percy asked. He at least had the decency to sound sorry for her, even though making fun of her would have been just as deserved. 

“That was mean.” Annabeth complained. Percy lowered her back into bed, gently pushing her shoulder so she would lie down again. Annabeth didn’t need so much convincing this time. 

“It was the fastest way.” Percy said apologetically, brushing some hair out of her eyes “You would have fought me on it all day, otherwise.” 

Annabeth sighed, but didn’t deny it. She probably would have been unbearable. She probably still was going to be unbearable.

“How am I sick? I never get sick. I’ve never had the flu in my life.” Annabeth said. She glanced upwards at Percy, who was looking very much like he was trying to not say something. 

“What?” she asked. 

“Nothing.” he said quickly, but Annabeth knew his expressions better than her own, and she knew when he was holding back. 

“You’re thinking something.” Annabeth said accusingly. A smile cracked through his holding-back face.

“Should I not be?” he asked. 

“You know what I mean.” Annabeth grumbled. 

“Okay. I mean, I’m sure your immune system is very high-quality. I mean, it's yours, how could it not be?” 

“Stop trying to butter me up.” Annabeth said, but she couldn't keep a smile all the way off her face. 

“Who said I was buttering you up? I was complimenting your robust immune response” Percy said innocently, still grinning.

“Now you’re trying to distract me, but it won’t work.”

This was a complete lie. If he tried a little harder, it probably would work, and he knew it as well as she did. He caved anyways, which meant he probably did actually want to tell her what he was thinking. 

“Okay, fine.” Percy said, “I was just going to say, you spent most of your winters at camp, which is totally isolated from the outside world, which means you haven’t really had a real flu season since you were like seven.” 

“I went to boarding school.” Annabeth reminded him.

“Yeah, and you spent winter breaks at camp, or at your dad’s.” 

He neglected to mention that she had spent one such break kidnapped by Luke and forced to carry the weight of the sky, which would have proved his point further, but Percy was not so ruthless during little discussions like these that he needed to bring up every last piece of evidence. Annabeth envied that restraint sometimes. 

“Are you trying to tell me that my immune system probably actually sucks because it hasn’t been exposed to anything real since I was eight?” Annabeth asked. Percy bit his bottom lip.

“You said it, not me.” he said, with an apologetic shrug. Annabeth groaned again, rolling onto her stomach and shoving her face in her pillow. The sudden movement did nothing to relieve her headache; in fact it started pounding away with renewed vigor. 

“But I got my flu shot and everything.” Annabeth complained, “I wash my hands all the time.” 

“If you hadn’t gotten your shot you’d be feeling twice as bad right now, believe me.” Percy said. Between his ADHD-induced forgetfulness and his living in the city during flu season, Annabeth was inclined to trust him on that one. 

“What do I do?” she asked, turning her face halfway off the pillow so she could look at him again. The sympathetic look he was giving her did not make her optimistic for his answer.

“Drink a lot of water and wait for it to pass.” 

“That’s it?” Annabeth asked in disbelief. 

“And keep an eye on your temperature.” Percy amended, “If it goes over a hundred and three I’m taking you to the ER.” 

“Modern medicine is a sham.” Annabeth said. That elicited a laugh from him, at least.

“Go back to sleep. You can send your emails later.” he said, brushing a few stray curls behind her ear. 

“I don’t know if I can.” Annabeth said, and it wasn’t even a lie or her being stubborn. She was still freezing somehow, shivering even though she was under blankets again. 

In response, Percy crawled back under the covers, wrapping his arms around her. She snuggled into his chest, stealing his warmth, even though she knew she shouldn’t.

“You have class.” Annabeth protested. She felt his laugh, a sturdy vibration in his chest, more than she heard it.

“Not anymore. I’m probably just as contagious as you at this point.” 

Annabeth tried again.

“I’m going to get you sick.” 

“Maybe.” Percy said, not sounding particularly bothered by it either way. 

“But…” Annabeth trailed off. She didn’t want him to leave, but it also didn’t feel fair to keep him here, knowing she was probably condemning him to the same misery she was feeling now.

“Don’t worry about me.” Percy said, reading her thoughts, “I used to ride the subway everyday, I think I’ve had every strain of the flu known to man. And if you think I’m just going to leave you here shivering, you’re crazy.”  

“I guess I’ll allow it.” Annabeth mumbled, scooting a little closer to him. The shakes were finally starting to dissipate, driven off by Percy’s warmth. 

“Oh, you’ll allow it?” he asked. She could hear the smile in his voice, even if she couldn’t see it. 

“For now.” Annabeth said, though she had absolutely no intention of changing her mind, and he knew it better than she did. 

“Go back to sleep, Wise Girl.” Percy said, kissing the top of her head. 

“Fine.” she said, too tired to think of a good retort. “Seaweed Brain.” she added sleepily, for good measure. She felt him laugh again. 

It took a while, but eventually she managed to drift off to sleep again, curled up against his chest.