#i put a pillow over it…. less effect…….. which i know is dangerous but guys

[radioroxx]

roommate is not letting me turn off the heat. i fear i will not survive the winter

[wolferine]

Heart Skips a Beat - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…

Warnings: Violence, blood

Word Count: 1837

Part 1

Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp

When Natasha sees your eyes close, she finally comes back to her senses. She squirms away from Steve, crawling under an ambulance and making her way towards you. She ignores Steve telling her to stay put and doesn’t hear Clint telling police officers the direction the bullets came from. All she can think about is bringing you to safety.

The ambulance engine is still running, causing its underside to reach temperatures that make Natasha feel like she is hiding in a furnace. She holds her breath from the fumes as she crawls to the front of the vehicle, throwing her arm out and reaching for your hand.

“Y/N!” she screams. “I’m right here! Hold on!” Her fingertips brush yours and she grabs onto your wrist tightly. You’re bigger and heavier than her, but the adrenaline gives her strength. With a massive heave, she drags you under the ambulance. You smear through the puddle of your own blood and it soaks through the back of your shirt. 

There isn’t even enough room for her to lift her head, but she grabs onto both your arms, digging her elbows into the ground and crawling backwards. “I got you, Y/N. I got you,” she pants. But the lack of space and your deadweight make it impossible for her to pull you all the way through, so she backs out from under the ambulance. “Steve, help me!” she shouts.

“Move!” Steve says to her, although his shoulders are too broad to fit in the narrow gap. However, his arms are long enough to reach both of your hands, and all it takes is one big tug for you to come sliding out from the ambulance. 

Your eyes fly open suddenly, awakened by the agonizing pain coursing through your shoulder like a lightning bolt. You scream, and as much as it makes Natasha’s heart hurt, she’s glad to see that you’re still alive. 

“You guys need to get out of here right now!” Clint yells. “Take the ambulance!”

Steve pulls you into a standing position and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you onto his shoulders effortlessly. You flop over him like a ragdoll, pain pulsing in your stomach when you bump against his chest.

BOOM.

A bullet shatters the sideview mirror of the ambulance.

“Go, go!” Natasha urges, putting herself between the danger and you and Steve. Steve runs with you to the back of the ambulance and flings the door open. There is no gurney, so Natasha helps him lay you on the floor and climbs in after you.

“Stay with Y/N. I’ll drive,” Steve offers, going around to the front. “Clint, we’re taking Y/N to the Quinjet! Hold the scene down!”

“Copy that!” Clint is just as concerned for your safety, but he knows you’re in good hands. Steve jumps into the driver’s seat and throws the ambulance in reverse.

BOOM.

The windshield explodes.

“Let’s go!” Natasha screams, ducking her head.

“Hold on!” Steve backs into a sharp U-turn. The tires screech as they find traction on the road to accelerate forward.

Natasha practically lays on top of you to prevent you from rolling around. From a shelf, she grabs a handful of gauze packets, tearing them open with her teeth. She rips your shirt open and presses the gauze first to your shoulder, then another to the side of your stomach. You’re completely soaked in blood and it continues to pump out of you with each heartbeat. Your face has faded to a sickly pale. 

“N-Nat,” you whisper, trying to move but pinned down by the pain. “N-Nat—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” she comforts. “Just keep your eyes open for me, okay?”

You see the blood smeared on her face, her neck, and her hands, too delirious to remember that it’s yours. “A-Are you h-hurt?” you stammer.

Natasha wants to laugh and cry at the same time. You’re so in love with her that even in the face of death you don’t even think about yourself. “No, I’m fine,” she says, grabbing onto your hand and interlocking your fingers. She looks over at Steve, veering through parked cars and roadblocks. “Can we hurry it up a little?” she asks in panic, even though she knows he’s driving as fast as he can.

“I’m trying!” Steve swerves around a fire hydrant and the sudden movement jolts everyone in the ambulance. Natasha presses down on you too hard and you grunt in pain.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “We’re almost there. We’re almost there.”

Your vision fades into fuzzy shapes and blurred colors. Even breathing seems to be too much of a task for you. Steve parks behind the Quinjet and comes around to help carry you in.

“Do you need me to go with you?” Steve asks as he lays you across the back seats of the Quinjet.

“No.” Natasha shakes her head. “Stay and help Barton.”

Steve doesn’t even try to argue. “We’ll find who did this, Nat. I promise.” He goes to the controls at the front and presses a few buttons. “The coordinates for the Tower are set. You’ll autopilot all the way there. Just make sure to update the medical team on Y/N’s condition.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Everything will be okay.” He places his hand on Natasha’s shoulder for a moment before jogging back to the ambulance. As soon as he’s off the Quinjet, the door raises shut and the engines blast on. You’re several states away from New York, but at the speeds the plane can travel, you should be there in minutes. You just have to hang on until then.

Natasha leaves your side only to grab more gauze, pressing it against your bullet wounds to slow the bleeding. She rolls you to your side so there’s no pressure on your front or back, but grimaces when she sees that your back looks as bad as your front.

“N-Nat,” you try whispering again, but she is quick to shush you.

“Not now, okay? Just stay awake for me, Y/N.”

You’ve never felt so weak before. It feels like you were hit by a bus and ground up by its tires. Your mind processes in slow-motion—probably a side effect of the blood loss—and you already forgot how you got into the Quinjet. But the physical pain isn’t your greatest concern anymore. You just don’t want to lose your fight and leave her.

Natasha fits an oxygen mask around your face and the cool air is comforting, but you know your time is ticking away. You don’t notice the Quinjet hiss to a landing or acknowledge the team of doctors suddenly hovering over you.

“We’ll do the surgery in room six!”

“Prep a blood transfusion!”

“Two gunshot wounds from a large-caliber gun!”

The doctors move you to a gurney and wheel you off the Quinjet. Natasha holds onto your hand as they take you to the surgery room, but a doctor stops her from entering with you.

“No, Romanoff. You gotta stay out here. We’ll take it from here.”

Natasha doesn’t fight back, letting your fingers slip through hers as you disappear behind the doors.

***********************************************************************

“Any updates?” Clint and Steve finally arrive a few hours later, but you’re still in surgery.

“Not yet.” Natasha paces the kitchen anxiously. Although she found the time to wash your blood off her hands and face, she hasn’t changed out of her uniform yet.

“Nat, you should get cleaned up. Y/N isn’t going anywhere,” Clint says.

“I know, I just…I want to be there when—” She can’t finish her sentence, falling into Clint’s arms and crying into his shoulder.

“Y/N is a fighter, remember?” Clint says, rubbing her back.

“But the amount of blood—”

“Super soldiers don’t go down easy,” Steve reminds her. “Y/N will pull through. And besides, you’ll be there to help with the recovery.”

Natasha nods, pulling away from Clint and wiping her face. “I’m sorry I froze when I saw Y/N get shot—”

“What are you apologizing for?” Clint asks.

“I don’t know—I put you all in danger because I couldn’t get myself out of the way—” she hiccups. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve assures. “In fact, you were the one who dragged Y/N to safety, remember? I couldn’t fit under the ambulance and Clint was just sitting around like a duck—”

“Excuse you,” Clint interrupts, and Natasha smiles thinly.  

“So, did you find who did this?” she asks.

“Uh—” Clint and Steve look at each other awkwardly. “Natasha, we—”

“Did you find them?” Natasha repeats with more force. Clint motions for Steve to explain.

“That’s the thing,” Steve says. “We don’t know who did this. We scoped out the whole area with the police. We went out more than a mile, but we couldn’t find anything. No shell casings, nothing.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me a ghost shot and tried to kill Y/N?” Natasha scoffs.

“No, we…” Steve tries to find the right words. “We think it was a setup, maybe like a hired assassin or something.”

“Who would want to kill Y/N?” Natasha asks.

“That’s what we need to figure out.”

Natasha knows you have a lot of baggage from your past, particularly when you were forced into illegal covert operations by the government. But it’s been a long time since then. You became your own person and changed your life for the better. Unfortunately, not everyone sees the side of you that Natasha and the Avengers do.

When Clint and Steve leave to shower and change, Natasha finally does the same. She dresses in clean clothes and curls up on your shared bed, inhaling your scent through the pillow and blankets.

Sometime later, Clint visits and knocks on the door. “Hey, Nat? Y/N just got out of surgery—” He doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence and is almost run over by Natasha as she hurries over to the medical bay. She doesn’t know which specific room they’re keeping you in, but it’s like she’s drawn to your very presence and finds the correct one instantly.

You lie upright in the bed, propped forward with pillows so there’s less pressure on your back. Your right arm is in a sling and your entire torso is wrapped in bandages. An IV drip leads into the veins on your hand, while a blood pouch sends blood into the vein inside of your elbow. You have an oxygen tube up your nose and looped around your ears.

“I heard the doctor went a little overboard on the anesthesia,” Clint says from behind Natasha, startling her. “You know, with the super soldier serum and everything. Y/N will probably be out of it for a while.” Natasha walks to your side and kneels, gently taking your hand. Your skin is clammy and colder than normal, but your pulse beats strongly.

“I’ll be here as long as it takes.” Natasha raises your hand, mindful of the wires around your wrist, and kisses your fingers.

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

Click here for Part 3!

AN: Thanks for the amazing support from everyone! Definitely didn’t think I’d get that kind of response, but I’m extremely grateful for you all. The next part will reveal the identity of the shooter, so I hope you’ll stick around for that. :) Peace out!

[k3rm1e]

heyo!! i was wondering if you would mind writing hc’s for a reader who just had a major accomplishment but their parents don’t really congratulate them or anything, and then philza celebrates with them instead and tells reader how proud he is. i kinda want some dadza comfort rn :’) anyway, thank you sm!! have a great day <3

accomplishments

heyo!! i was wondering if you would mind writing hc’s for a reader who just had a major accomplishment but their parents don’t really congratulate them or anything, and then philza celebrates with them instead and tells reader how proud he is. i kinda want some dadza comfort rn :’) anyway, thank you sm!! have a great day <3

hello anon! i’m sorry i took a while to answer this. i went a bit off track with this and got A LOT more angsty, so i’m really sorry about that. If you want me to make a much more fluffier or mellowed-out version, i’d be happy to. please, read the trigger warnings before reading this.

i don’t plan on writing more angst-y things like this, especially not this angsty, so don’t worry. once again, please, if you would like me to rewrite this into a less emotional version i’d be happy to

cw: swearing

tw: talk of god and the church, slight manipulation, repetition of words

accomplishments:

  holy shit. you were in disbelief. a state of shock. one million twitch followers. one. million. followers. you were silent. shock can have many effects on a person. some scream and laugh out of joy, or a misplaced sense of mania. others cry, because they cannot handle it. some remain confused, because their brains are unable to conceptualize the event. you were silent.

  what should you do? would a “thank you” tweet be good enough or would it come off as insincere? should you wait to stream? or would that make people feel you didn’t care because you took so long? through the anxiety you could feel the true realization that you now had one million followers. like a truck, you were hit with the most excited feeling ever. getting up, you jumped around your room. you spun and jumped and cheered and whooped and yelled and smiled and danced and were overflowing with joy, with the acknowledgement that you had done it, you had really fucking done it. 

  opening the window above your desk, without a single fuck, you screamed. “WHOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! FUCK YEAH!!!!!!” let’s just hope your neighbors don’t wake up.

  you stayed up all night, celebrating. tweeting out a thank you, you received congratulations from your fans and friends while you talked with the people in your discord vcs.

  in the morning, your mother and father had woken up. with a newfound determination, you ran downstairs. streaming was your passion and you wanted to tell the world what you had done. but, because of limitations, your mother was your metaphorical world.

  “mom! mom! mom! mother, mother, mumther!!” you shouted, dashing down the stairs, tripping over your feet. stupid wood flooring and slidy socks.

  from your place at the bottom of the stairs, you heard her sigh, “yes, sweetie?”

  you bounded over to her, setting your arms on the kitchen counter. from the hallway you could see your dad, who was sitting on the couch drinking his sunday morning coffee. “mom! guess what?” without giving her time to respond, you shouted, “i hit one million follows on twitch! one freaking million!”.

  your mother didn’t seem as enthusiastic as you. “is that why you were causing such a ruckus last night? and, watch your mouth, even though ‘freaking’ isn’t a ‘true’ curse, i don’t want you swearing. especially not on the lord’s day. i couldn’t fathom going to church everyday, only to allow you to have a mouth like that.” she continued to stare at her work papers.

  “oh, uh, okay mother. dad? did you hear me? i hit one million on twitch.” you awkwardly turned your head over to your father.

  “she’s right, you know that, don’t you sweetie?” your father stood up, and made his way into the kitchen. “language like that, it’s shameful. surely, we don’t need you to have a private session with father paulson, do we?” your dad stood next to your mother, rubbing her back as he stared at you.

  “no, no, of course not. um, i’m gonna go upstairs now.” you turned around, wishing you could simply disappear.

  “without breakfast? are you truly that upset with us? we can’t have you ending up like those people, committing sinful acts and going to hell. god would never forgive you. we’re already taking a risk allowing you to stream, putting yourself out there.”

  both your mother and father stared at you. your blood felt like ice in your veins. the white walls of your house seemed so much brighter, yet duller at the same time. everything felt a white-pure-pink-orange. your breathing got uneasy. choppy. in, out, out, in, in, in, out, in, in, out, out for different increments of time. 5, 3, 2, 7, 10, 9, 6, 4, 1, 6, 8, seconds, over and over and over.

  “we just wanna protect you, dear. we love you, don’t you get that?” your mother stared at you.

  you felt like a scene in those movies. the ones that directly cater to teens who thought their lives were shit when in reality they just hadn’t grown up enough to make sense of something yet. were you one of those teens? or is this actually wrong. you don’t think it is, but you don’t talk to others about this. family matters stay in the family was a common phrase repeated in your household. the church was family, they could know. your mother and father, they could know. others, they must not know, never know.

  “of course, mother, father.” you wanted to force yourself to speak, but syllables were incapable of getting past your lips. your mouth was full of peanut butter from the sandwiches served in your elementary school cafeteria. but, the partly frozen chocolate milk always washed it down. “of course. i love you guys too. love you.” you smiled, a disgusting smile that felt violating to exist on your face, violating, violating, violating.

  you dashed up the stairs, to your room, up, up, up. running in, you wanted to slam the door, scream out the window, puch your pillow, smash your pc, cry, whatever you could do to get out your emotions. but instead, you lightly shut your door and slowly walked over to your desk chair to see who was online. you would go live later. it was only 5 AM, after all. they could wait. at least, you hoped they could.

  opening discord, just to see what everyone was doing, you saw philza minecraft was online. you went over and messaged him, ‘phil. philza. philza minecraft. vc please?’ in response, you received a short, ‘sure m8, gimme a minute’ you waited, until you heard the noise confirming he had joined.

  “good morning phil.” your energy from before had receded back into the confines of your chest. the prior excitement was gone and replaced with a feeling of fatigue.

  “morning mate, how are you? congrats on the one mill!” phil sounded excited, happy for you. you smiled, chuckling a bit.

  “i’m alright man, just tired. how are you? and, thanks for the congrats.” you smiled, feeling the fatigue set in.

  “i’m good. but you, you don’t sound very good. couldn’t sleep, could ya’? that was how i was when i hit one mill. way too excited to sleep.”

  “yeah. yeah, i’m just tired.” you were getting a bit too tired to talk. the day had barely started, and yet the full-body emotional exhaustion had set.

  “‘just tired’? the hell happened kid?” phil’s voice sounded concerned. fuck. the last thing you wanted to do was worry him. he had his own life and you had already caused enough trouble today.

  “it’s nothing big phil, seriously. just my parents.” there, a slight bit of information. family matters still within the family, just a few words.

  “they being shitbirds? or are you lying, and something big did happen?” he was being inquisitive, which was dangerous. questions were dangerous.

  “no, why would i lie?” his inquisitiveness would continue, you knew. so you spilled the metaphorical beans. “they just, just weren’t as supportive as i’d wished they were when i told them. i was really psyched, y’know? and them, just sort of, not giving a shit? i don’t know man, it just feels bad.”

  “i get you. it’s shit, when people don’t care about your accomplishments. my parents never really saw streaming as a true profession in the beginning, which led to shit like you describing. i promise it gets better though, even if it feels like shit now. and, for what it’s worth, i’m proud of you.”

  “it’s fine phil, you don’t need to try to make me feel better. i’m okay, seriously.” you didn’t need or want his pity. accepting it would feel patronizing.

  “no, you need to understand that i’m not fucking around. one million is a big fuckin’ thing, especially for you who hasn’t been streaming all that long to achieve. it’s fucking amazing, mate. be proud of yourself, for christ’s sake.” his fake anger chimed through your headphones. even though you were being berated, you still felt better.

  “thank you, phil. i needed that.”

  “your welcome, mate. and look, anytime your parents are being shit, don’t try to hold it all in. call me, or wil, or someone, okay? don’t hold that shit in.”

  you fake sighed, just to piss him off. “okayyyyyy….”

  “good. now, go take a nap or some shit. i love you, kid.”

  “love you too, dadza.” this time, your words didn’t feel forced. the smile on your face wasn’t violating, but an invitation to better times. it would be alright. okay.

[angelsdevils]

Arlong x OC

Title: Until Next Time 2.2 No Warning

Sophia had finally become Queen of Sabaody. She never forgot Arlong even though they had stopped talking when they got older due to him becoming a pirate and Sophia becoming Queen. She had high hopes of seeing her childhood crush again.

"Queen Sophie, you know it's not safe to be near the water."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Leave me in peace."

"But Queen..." Sophia glared at her Butler, and he bowed his head, leaving the Queen to herself.

"Well, you certainly have changed in appearance and personality. But I still know where to find you." Sophia turned to see a large shark, Fishman making his way toward her.

"Arlong?" The Fishman smirked and held Sophia's waist.

"Yours truly."

"Why are you here? I didn't put my plan into effect yet. It's dangerous."

"Well, to do that, you need to get to Fishman Island first."

"Do you plan to help me?" Sophia asked, smiling hugging Arlong's neck.

"I do plan to help you. After all, Fishman wants peace with humans, but humans, on the other hand, will be a lot more difficult because they fear us."

"I don't see why."

"Because Fishman is far more superior than humans."

"Watch it, Arlong."

"I am only speaking ~" Sophie cut Arlong off by pressing her lips to his.

"Hush." She whispered against his lips before pulling away smiling at him.

"You seriously got to stop doing that," Arlong mumbled with tinted cheeks.

"Why? I enjoy kissing you."

"Because I am trying to hate humans, but you are making it quite hard, Sophie." Arlong looked away.

"Well, good, I don't want you to hate humans. We all aren't bad."

"I know that because I like you," Arlong mumbled out, and Sophie blushed, hiding her face in his chest.

"Queen Sophie.... we should head back. It's getting late." Arlong slowly unwrapped his arms from around Sophie's waist.

"I will meet you later," Arlong said, stroking her hair behind her ear.

"Okay, see ya later, alligator."

"I am a shark Fishman, not an alligator." Sophie stuck her tongue out, smiling at Arlong before going to where her Butler was.

"You are so in love," Kuroobi said.

"With a species, he hates most chu~."

"Shut up. You guys enjoy her presence too." Arlong snapped, jumping into the water. Sophie slipped into the shower, taking a long hot shower sighing as she smiled to herself. Once she finished showering, she put on her white nightgown with ruffles at the end. She went to her window and unlocked it before lying in her bed, drifting to light sleep. She began to dream of a better future for the Fishman and the humans. And of a certain Fishman who had her heart. Arlong managed to wait until dark before sneaking into Sophia's room and watching her sleep. Her hair was sprawled all over the pillow. He walked quietly to the side of her bed and kissed her forehead. She stirred slightly, opening her eyes to see Arlong beside her bed.

"Arlong..." She whispered, hurrying over, and Arlong laid down, and Sophia cuddled into his chest.

"Hmmm?"

"I am glad I met you."

"I am glad as well," Arlong said, which no longer shocked him when it came to Sophie. He held her tighter.

"I know we talked less nowadays due to me being a pirate and you being the Queen. But I do want to marry you." Arlong said in her hair.

"I would say yes, but..." Arlong cut her off.

"No buts. I know you are expected to marry a human."

"No, I am expected to marry royalty. Fishman or human, preferably human, could be of any species as long as royalty."

"Do you think I abide by rules?"

"NO, but I do."

"Do you not care for me?"

"That's not it. I love you so much, Arlong. But I.... can't."

"Sophie, why marry someone you don't love?"

"...because of everything I want to achieve. Because of my dreams Arlong. I want to become one with the Fishman and to do that. I have to marry royalty if I want to get married." Arlong grunted, looking at the ceiling.

"I won't accept this."

"Why?"

"You are so clueless, Sophie. I love you, and I finally accepted my feelings for you after trying to deny them." Even though she already knew, Sophie's eyes widened at the confession because Arlong wasn't the one to confess his feelings. Arlong stole a kiss from her before stroking her hair again.

"I can't let the one I love marry someone else. Even if that means I have to kidnap you." Arlong smirked, and Sophie blinked.

"K-Kidnap? But I wo~."

"I know you won't be able to attempt to make peace." Arlong rolled his eyes.

"Arlong, I am sorry." Sophie turned her head, so Arlong wouldn't see the tears that threatened to fall. She sat up, putting her back to him, and Arlong wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and kissed her cheek.

"I know you have good intentions, but I love you. I loved you since the day you jumped into the conversations I and the others were having. And you said it yourself. You love me too."

"You were right. Not all humans are bad. You are the walking truth of that. You have the biggest heart I know. And that is why I fell for you, a human." Arlong turned her around and wiped her tears away. She looked up at him.

"W-What do we do then?"

"Let our relationship known. Sure, people will go against our relationship, but it could be a start."

"It's going to be a rough ride, though. Are you sure you want to go through that?"

"With you. Yes."

"Well.. in that case, Arlong, yes. Yes, I will marry you." Arlong smiled and pulled her back down on his chest as he laid on his back, and they shared a sweet passionate kiss.

As months went by, the Fishman and humans of Saboady realized Arlong's and Sophie's relationship. Half were pleased while the other half weren't. And I am sure you can tell which side was which. Much to Sophie's and Arlong's surprise, her parents approved.

"Sophie, we knew you snuck out to see him since you were young. That's when we knew you had what it takes to possibly eliminate some of the hatred in this world." Sophie's mom said the former Queen smiled.

"Don't you dare hurt my daughter?" Her father said to Arlong

"I don't have such intentions." He said and held Sophie's hand, kissing the top of it. As the wedding day neared, Fishman and merfolk started to make their way on the land, and humans adjusted to the difference. After the wedding, Sophia met King Neptune, his three sons, and his daughter. And not long after that, the law for humans and Fishman was to live in harmony. And all the enslaved people were freed from their captures. Arlong became the first freshman to become a king on land.

"So... I just met Luffy."

"Don't you dare," Arlong grunted?

"Hey, they don't seem that bad. You must have been doing something you weren't supposed to be back then."

"If I told you. You would hate me."

"You should apologize to Nami even if she doesn't forgive you."

"I can't."

"Arlong."

"I hate to say it, but because they did help out with the Marines that caused trouble here. I invited them, Jinbei, Hatchan, Kuroobi, Chew, my parents over for dinner." Sophia said, curling her hair. Arlong stopped and looked at her and backed hugged her.

"Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you. It's just Luffy."

"No, you didn't tell me your parents were coming."

"I just did."

"Sooner."

"I gave you an hour heads up."

"Hour!?" Sophia set her curling iron down and turned to kiss Arlong.

"Arlong, we went through the protests of my land for our marriage. You threaten to kidnap me."

"Because you were going to marry someone else, what does that have to do with this?"

"You knew what you were getting into." Arlong rubbed his face with his webbed hand.

"You are something else. You know when you first kissed my cheek, you embarrassed me."

"Why, it was the cheek."

"No one ever did that to me, even when you first kissed me on the lips. You were the first."

"Good, you were my first kiss too. Oh, by the way, I have another surprise."

"What now? I am trying to reminisce on the good times."

"I figure I should tell you before announcing it to my parents tonight. I am pregnant."

"Oh, okay, sweet.. wait, what!? YOU GOTTA TELL ME THIS!"

"I did tell you."

"Sophie. How long?"

"I just went to the hospital yesterday. I am 2 months pregnant." Arlong sighed and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck.

"I love you even if you drive me insane."

"I love you too. As your wife, it's my duty to drive you up the wall."

[shinsouskitten]

Shinsou Hitoshi nsfw alphabet

damn kat back at it again with the thirst i hate myself 

Idk how I haven’t done a nsfw alphabet for my KING yet but I’m disappointed in myself for it

this post was mostly finished before the whole ‘this cold makes me feel like im dying’ thing so i just had to add a few and it was ready for publishing (bonus points if you can tell which ones were added in my cold-induced craziness)

Warnings: you know it, you love it, the thirsting of a lonely writer

---

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Shinsou is a king when it comes to aftercare. Hot baths, massages, cuddles, you name it. You mean the absolute world to him, and he’ll go out of his way to show that, both in and out of the bedroom

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

Shinsou can be pretty self critical, but if you pushed for an answer he’d probably say his hair, cause he knows how much you like it. For his partner, horny Shinsou would immediately go for your neck (literally too). He loves how a single kiss can turn you into putty in his hands, and he’ll leave marks in places he knows you can’t hide just to prove to the world that you’re his

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Inside you, on you, he doesn’t really mind. Whatever you prefer, he’s happy with. If you want to get messy, he’s more than happy to help, but if not he’ll keep you clean (ish). Although he’s unlikely to admit it, seeing you swallow his cum ignites a fire in Shinsou, and sets up quite a few more rounds so he can give you a reward for being so good

D = Dirty secret (pretty clear, a dirty secret of theirs)

Shinsou’s pretty open with what he wants, but when you first start getting intimate there’ll be a few things he doesn’t really want to say in case he scares you away (he could never, but he still worries). He wants to experiment, but he makes sure he knows your boundaries before he suggests anything too out there. The thing he keeps secret for the longest is the desire to wrap your neck in a beautiful collar emblazoned with his name, simply cause he doesn’t want you to think it’s weird

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He does his research, but hands on experience is pretty limited before you. It’s a learning curve, both of you learning what makes the other tick, what causes you the highest amount of pleasure, and what to steer clear of

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Loves to see you ride him. It gives you the power to control the tempo, but also gives him a beautiful view to tip him over the edge of ecstasy. More needy Shinsou (aka when he’s in hornball mode) likes doggy style, cause it means he can pull your hair or hold you up against him and kiss your neck

G = Goofy (how serious are they in the moment?)

He’s not going to whip out a joke book in the middle of sex, but he’s also not going to act like an uptight secretary who’s only able to follow the rules (well, not unless you ask 👀) 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Keeps himself trimmed, possibly even shaved. It’s no nonsense and means it’s also more enjoyable for you if you’re giving him head

I = Intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment?)

He’s an intimate guy, but he’s also not above teasing (though there’s another letter for that so I’ll keep on intimate for now). Like I mentioned in B, Shinsou can be pretty self critical, and sometimes he can get scared that you’ll leave him if he doesn’t prove how much he loves you, which to him means intimate sex and reassurance (aka, saying ‘I love you’ every two seconds)

J = Jack off (what are their views on masturbation?)

He does it when needed. He’s not insanely horny, so chances are if he is you’re there to deal with him. But if you’re not, and he’s especially needy, he’ll most likely call you up for a little phone session. The thought of you is incredible, but being able to see and hear you is even better

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think we all know the phrase kitty, right? Well inference leads me to believe that Shinsou would be down for trying out pet play. And yes, as I mentioned before, he would 100% have a collar for you with his name on it. I don’t take criticism for that one

L = Location (favorite places to do the dance with no pants)

More traditional. Sex between the two of you means intimacy, so he’d prefer privacy. You have yet to find a surface in your house he hasn’t tried to fuck you on. That being said, your comfort is of the utmost importance to Shinsou, so if he’s going to fuck you over the kitchen counter, he’s going to make sure you feel comfortable while he does it. So yes, that means he’ll take pillows off the sofa’s just to make you comfy

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going, etc)

You. Simple as. There are certain things that especially turn him on, such as you biting your lip or being extra attentive to him in what would seem like a normal scene to anyone else watching. Put your hand on his thigh when out at dinner and pay the price when you get home. Or maybe that was your plan all along

N = No (turn offs, something they wouldn’t do)

Shinsou never wants you to be in pain (well not unless you want to be in pain). He’ll leave hickies all over you, but that’s about as far as he’ll go with marking you. Maybe a spank here and there, but he won’t scar you or leave any marks that won’t be gone in a few days

O = Oral (do they prefer giving or receiving? how skilled are they?)

Shinsou prefers giving, but he’ll never say no to receiving either. He wants you to feel good, but if you decide to turn the tables he’s not going to deny you. Once you’re finished though, he’s repaying the favor tenfold. And just as a note, pull his hair when he goes down on you. He adores it

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Yes and yes. It all depends on the situation, his mood, the usual things. He’ll do whatever provides you with the most pleasure (while also allowing him to tease you)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies)

He doesn’t love them, but if they’re the only way to get some gratification then he’s willing (only if you are though). He’s careful about location, he doesn’t want someone walking in and ruining the whole thing, even if the risk of being caught makes everything a little more exciting. Chances are he won’t engage in quickies unless he’s been to the place at least once before (he wants to know which wall you’d look best pinned to). He has to feel slightly comfortable in the environment

R = Risk (how risky are they willing to be?)

He’s down for a little risk, but nothing that would be too mortifying for you. If he’s going to screw you somewhere other than your home, he’s going to vet the place over a lot, and find the best place where you have the comfort of being private but the thrill of being caught if someone were to venture too close to your hideout

S = Stamina (how long do they last? how many rounds?)

Freaking hell where does he get it from? Like, he just doesn’t stop. Not that that’s a bad thing, mind you. Most of the rounds consist of him pleasing you, and he’ll only give in and finally fuck you when your throat is hoarse from begging, or when he feels the smallest amount of pity at the tears rolling down your face (did someone say crying kink)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them on a partner or themselves?)

Vibrating panties. I said he doesn't physically act on desires when in public, but touching a remote isn’t the same thing as touching you, so he makes an exception. He’s not insanely cruel. For him it’s more about teasing that mortification, so if someone senses something’s wrong, he turns off the remote until they give up. But the moment they’re gone, it’s back stronger than ever

U = Unfair (how much do they tease?)

*roblox oof sound effect*

Once Shinsou gains his confidence with you, he’s not going back. His teasing is often coupled with praise, telling you how good you’re being for him while he denies you pure bliss again and again. He’ll edge you to hell and back if you give him the chance, but don’t worry, it’s worth it in the end

V = Volume (how they sound, how loud they are, etc)

Small moans and louder grunts are the main sounds coming from Shinsou when he’s enjoying himself. He swears a lot, and it’s always easy to tell how close he is to the edge by how creative his swears become. As for his partner, he wants to know how well he’s doing. He wants to hear you whine and beg while he edges you, and the pornstar-like moans that fill the air when he finally gives in and gives you what you really want

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

You think I forgot about his quirk. Ha, I could never. I said in my hcs that it takes a while for Shinsou to integrate quirk use into sex. As much as you assure him you’re in full trust, he’s anxious about the inability to say no when he has you under his control. The longer you’re together the more willing he is, but even when he does use it it’s usually a way to make edging even more dangerous, with you unable to resist his words when he tells you you’re not allowed to cum just yet

Okay maybe we have 2 wild cards this time cause I also wanna mention his capture weapon. Again, it’ll take a while for it to be available in a less-than-pg manner, but he’s more willing to use his capture weapon than his quirk. Main reason being, you can still use a safeword when tied up. But tying up goes both ways, so even if he prefers to be the one giving the pleasure, he’d never deny your wishes

X = X-ray (let’s have a looksee in those pants)

I’m trying not to be biased cause I love him so much but I feel like Shinsou’s kinda packing. A good 8.5-9 inches (no, I won’t take criticism) and on the skinnier side. But the amount of attention he gives you before his pants are even off means taking him is never difficult

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not the highest, but when you’re around it increases significantly. He’s not going to fuck you every time he sees you (I mean, he thinks about it) but he also isn’t a nun. It’s a good level, cause most days you can walk, and then on the weekends you’re a little bedridden

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s a bit of an insomniac, so screwing the energy out of him is one of the best ways to get Shinsou tired enough to sleep. He likes to hold you, so once he’s satisfied with the aftercare, he’ll crawl in bed for cuddles until the both of you pass out

[shelby-love]

JAY HALSTEAD

The Freeing Bliss of Adrenaline

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): angsty, happy ending

Author's note: Haven't written for Jay in a while! This will be the last one shot of the year. I've been working on imagines the entire day. Now I'll take some time off since New Year is in less than a hour! p.s. I just added some more spice to Jay’s fight! How’d you like it?

Happy New Near!!!!!

Note: It's important that you guys read my newest Hank Voight one shot to not be confused further into this one. Click here!

~

"Relax babe I'll be fine," You smiled impishly at Jay and leaned against your newest child. The large two-wheeled beauty was the highlight of your day.

But Jay eyed your Yamaha r6 skeptically. He saw a fair number of criminals die from crashing motorcycles less intimidating than the one behind you. He trusted you to be careful, but it didn't help him sleep at night any better than he did before. The damned matte black motorcycle was the cause of his nightmares.

"Just," He sighed. "Be careful."

You chuckled in adoration and kissed him. The two of you were aesthetically pleasing to see. Especially next to your large motorcycle.

"I'll see you at 7?" He nodded in confirmation and helped you with your helmet.

For effect, he slapped the top of it and didn't leave until you were out of his line of vision.

Jay rolled his eyes when you purred the engine for effect.

***

The motorcycle ride through the tunnel was freeing, especially upon exiting it.

Jay didn't understand how freeing the rides you've had felt. You left your worries behind in the dust whenever you roared the engine. You felt like you could do anything.

Your left hand is working the clutch and the turn signal, your right hand is working the front brake, your right foot is working the rear brake, and your left foot is working the gears up & down. The ride was a physical & emotional pleasure, with a layer of anxiety & adrenaline.

For a moment you wanted to close your eyes. To enjoy the feeling of freedom.

But you snapped out of it, just like every time; Jay's words rung in your mind. Be careful.

You were.

But the car that slammed into you wasn't.

***

The members of firehouse 51 arrived on scene in recod time. People were watching on the side next to their cars; the whole road was blocked with cars.

"I didn't know what to do," The officer on scene told Matt. "The motorcycle's crushing her, but I didn't want to do anything until you guys got here."

"Her?" He asked, surprised to hear it. "It's a good thing you didn't move her." That cop did exactly the right thing by not moving the weight off you until they had facility to adequately treat any injuries.

"She looks experienced," The man  sighed with anxiety, looking as if he aged 20 years in a span of 15 minutes. "The motorcycle's a Yamaha r6. Definitely not a beginner's bike."

The smoke that came from the bike was enough to quicken their pace. "All hands-on deck." Matt announced and proceeded to give out orders.

"Otis get the backboard."

"On it."

The rest of the men appeared around you. Severide at the front. It only took him a glance at your custom-made helmet to know that it was you. "Holy shit..."

"What's wrong Severide?" Cruz asked him.

"That's Y/N."

"Who's she?" The team asked him.

"Jay's girlfriend." Severide whispered. "Hey you!"

The cop turned to him, trauma in his eyes. "Call Intelligence."

"Why? This isn't a crime scene."

"That's Jay Halstead's girlfriend on the ground. Get him here now!"

Back where you were, truck was discussing your situation.

"We need to get this bike off her," Gabby said hurriedly.

"81 watch for the hot pipes," The team was working on getting it off you. "This thing's a beast, got to weight 500 lbs." Matt said.

"Okay easy guys," Sylvie had your helmet in her hands. "Possible spinal injury and head trauma."

"Okay let's get this off," All hands were truly on deck as Casey counted down to three. They took your demolished motorcycle and placed it away from you.

"Jay's gonna freak," Severide commented when his eyes fell on your leg. It was completely crushed. Red with blood and completely split in half.

"We need to get the helmet off of her." Sylvie instructed, changing places.

"Alright Mouch."

It was hard for you to decipher the voices because little did they know...

You were conscious under there.

You barely recognized Severide as he barked out commands left and right.

You felt the strap of your custom-made helmet being cut off. The pain that shot through your leg when they secured it had you wincing to the pint your lip started to bleed.

When they took it off it took several seconds for the light to push through to you. You could barely breathe, let alone move your neck to look at the firefighters credited as your lifesavers. Severide cupped the back of your neck and you could only look at him.

"Kelly..." You murmured, tears gathering in your eyes. The times he and Jay had told you to be careful...

You should have listened.

"Y/N don't move. You're okay," He reassured you but you only widened your eyes. "You've been in an accident."

Tears started to fall. "Kelly..."

"No don't speak," He said quietly.

You coughed, "The...other..."

"The other?" He repeated.

"Collision..."

They were losing you. "Hey! Y/N stay with me! What collision?"

A few meters away, Matt and Boden inspected the road and the remains of your bike. "It's dented. Like someone crashed into her."

Kelly's screams brought them back to reality and Matt ran to get you.

He crouched down, his face hovering over you and blocking the sun. "Y/N did someone else crash into you?"

More tears started to fall. "They fell...off."

Boden looked around until he noticed several aggressive lines from tires scattered around the road.

He stepped closer to the edge and looked.

Until he saw.

"This is Battalion Chief 25," He radioed. "We need another ambulance to our location. This was a vehicle collision. I repeat a vehicle collision!"

***

"She still hasn't woken up," Will told his younger brother. "The injuries she sustained were more dangerous than we thought."

"Will what the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"There were some complications with the surgery," Will tried to reason calmly. "She started hemorrhaging. They got the bleeding under control, but they had to put her in a medically induced coma. Hey! Jay wait- "

The detective stormed outside. The ringing in his head was getting louder and the voices around him became a distant callout.

Two arms stopped him from raging out.

He pushed and pulled but the man before him didn't move.

Kelly didn't move.

"Jay man, you need to stop!"

He didn't stop. Not even when Sharon Goodwill came to break them apart herself. Jay pushed through and disappeared outside, not daring to enter a car because of what had happened to you.

Kelly and Will found him in a bar eventually.

They took him home, watched over his place as he showered the alcohol off. They helped him in bed, even pulled the covers over him like you used to.

Jay's body was warm under the covers, but deep within he was anything but.

He missed your presence in the bed, your body against his in the shower…

Even your jokes during dinner.

It wasn't the same without you. He wasn't the same.

But no one understood him.

Only you did.

But you were in a coma. Unreachable.

He hugged your pillow on which traces of your perfume still lingered and cried like a baby.

***

The man rushed at Jay, his fist pulled back by a mile to punch him. Jay ducked but the man growled and started swinging punches at him. It came to a point of giving up for the man. Jay was ducking, backing up, sliding to the side; doing all the things needed to slip right through his fingers. He moved quickly, confident in his abilities.

Jay sidestepped before thrusting his fist against the man's face, reeling the man back so he staggered on his feet. A stray of blood fell out of his mouth, but not even that was stopping Jay from doing more damage.

Whatever force had him possessed, it wasn't letting go.

Jay slammed his fist into the man's face like the impact didn't bother him at all. The man smashed into a wall, fell to his knees, and clutched his face and trembled as his head fell forward. Jay placed a foot on the back of his head and slammed his face on the ground without thinking twice. The man groaned but didn't give up.

He twisted his body under the pressure of Jay's boot and grabbed his ankle.

It really didn't take long before Jay had him completely pinned to the ground again. He started throwing punches to his face until there was nothing but blood coating his hands.

He broke his nose, knocked out his teeth and broke his jaw.

Maybe even more.

He couldn't take a better look because he was taken away.

"What the hell is your problem Halstead!?" His sergeant barked.

"He deserved it." Jay mumbled. It really was his only excuse.

"If you're not fit to work," Voight neared his face to Jay's. "I'll take you off the case."

"You can't."

Hank only shook his head, "I can, and I will. Listen… You're a good kid Halstead and I'm sorry for what happened to Y/N but that's not an excuse for what you just did, and you know it."

"Get yourself together." Was the last thing Hank told him before he disappeared.

His girlfriend and the newest member of Intelligence took pity and came to his side. "She's going to be fine, Jay."

"You don't know that" Jay mumbled.

She only smiled sadly, "I've been there."

"You ride motorcycles?"

She shook her head with a roll of her eyes, "No. I was shot while working for the FBI. Hostage situation. I was one of them. A part of the reason why I joined special operations but that's a story for another day."

She leaned against the car with him, "As I was saying... I was badly injured, Jay. The doctors had to put me in a medically induced coma too."

"How'd you get through it?" He asked. She shone in a completely different light to him now.

"The people that mean the most to me were by my side. For me it was family that helped me push through and fight," she sighed, her hands twined together. "You're her anchor Jay. And if you're not being strong for her... Who will she lean onto? Who will help her push through and fight?"

"Doctors believe hearing stories in parents' and siblings' voices exercises the parts of the brain responsible for long-term memories." She recalled what was once told to her.

 "Hey detective! Sergeant Voight is asking for you," A police officer yelled a couple yards away. Voight's girlfriend smiled and Jay could swear that he could see blush taint her cheeks. Jay and you won 20 bucks a few months back thanks to her and her blush.

"Be what your sergeant is to me."

Jay nodded smiling.

Before she was out of his line of vision she turned back and yelled to him, "Maybe take a shower too! I heard that helps!"

He rolled his eyes at her.

***

When he sat at your hospital bed, he didn't know what to say. Every word mattered to him. It's been weeks since the last time you opened your eyes.

And in those weeks a lot of things happened to him.

He hoped that now, after all that had happened, he was good enough of an anchor for you to hold onto.

He grabbed your small hand in his bigger one and kissed the back of it. You looked peaceful. Not your usual bubbly self; the version of yourself that lived for adrenaline and everything life had to offer.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," He started, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "I didn't know what to do…"

"I had your bike fixed," He informed quietly. "Although I don't think you'll ever want to sit on one again."

He paused. "But then again… You're batshit crazy."

Jay spent a long time talking to you about a million things. He made up for the times he failed to be there with you.

"Detective Halstead?" A nurse had joined him in the room. "Visiting hours are over."

"Oh," Was all he said. "I guess I should get going?"

She smiled sadly.

With a torturous sigh, he leaned down and kissed you. A tiny piece of his heart broke at the lack of response your once warm, now cold lips gave him. "It's not the same without you."

***

Chicago's cold wisps of air hit him without mercy the moment he stepped out. No one really payed him much mind. Occasional glances from girls that were passing by was something he was used to.

He was searching for his car when a figure jumped in front of him.

"Geez Will," Jay sighed. "The hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," He was beaming like a madman.

"Whatever it is you came here to tell me, just say it." He grumbled.

"Y/N labs came back."

Jay stopped in his tracks and turned to face his brother. For the first time in weeks he had hope shining within his irises.

"And?"

"She pulled through. They'll wake her up tomorrow."

Before another word could leave his mouth, Jay hugged him like his life depended on it.

It did in a way.

He broke down at the parking lot in the arms of his brother having gotten the best news ever.

"Let's get you home bro. You'll see Y/N tomorrow."

Tags: @lorenakaspersen​​ @fofisstilinski​ @short-potato​​ @miranda0102​​  @saracabbage​​

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list (pinned post on my profile)! 

MASTERLIST

[melloian]

My wild au idea...

so i got a new art program. so i imagine this fake au idea.. so imma share it lmao. remember this is an imagination (and am still working on reboot au) and not some au or something. Alright let’s just get this cringe over went Remember this guy?

remember this kid?

now imagine them as an main character...yup..

Alright time to explain ig The boy and sandboy fused in body because of hawkmoth's glitch. The boy first witnessed this when he got scared of something else. He slowly turned blue. He screamed and cried loud because of course he didn't know what was happening, eventually turning into sandboy and terrorizing the city again. He then realizes everytime he gets scared he turns into sandboy. He proceeds to think the movie gave him strange powers (and not hawkmoth..well not in this fake au of course). Since he knows sandboy is evil, he came up idea to trick sandboy into doing something good. His plan was to put himself in danger on purpose (by an villain) in order to make sandboy think the villain is trying to attack him. The boy is only doing this in order for sandboy to no longer attack paris. Now to explain hawkmoth's situation, hawkmoth accidentally cracked the miraculous when he fall down (in a high tower awhile fighting the other day). He didn't know he did until he saw nooroo acting strange. But he didn't care so he proceeds to do it which led to the glitch. It affected his heart causing to become weak. However he doesn't care, he says himself that he would continue to use the butterfly miraculous, even if it costs his life at the end (he really just want his wife back so bad smh.) Gabriel gets the same symptoms as his wife which worries adrien.

Back to the boi himself.

in this imagination/fake au He just a friendly, energetic kid who like to play. He pretty much known as well-behaved kid. He sometimes curious about things.

He likes making new friends.

However he can get scared easily leading him to get nightmares. (he also easily cry too.)

He doesn't like mean people. (in this "fake" au, his age is 6) Sandboy himself

Sandboy here acts completely different here.. i mean he stills says "tHe SaNdBoY jUsT cHECkEd In. NoW nIghTmArEs CaN bEgIn" but only when using his powers. but he still different Sandboy is much more rude and more of an brat but still confident. He makes fun of people especially the villains he targets (he makes them furious on purpose). He's not scared of nothing, even if he saw lovecraftian horror or something, he wouldn't flinch. If he doesn't get his way, he will attempt fake cry so the person can feel sorry for him. (if that doesn't work he just will instantly use his power) Even though he rude and a brat, he can sometimes be helpful and nice. (he still acts like a child too.) Abilities: It would be epically lame if sandboy still have the same 1 power (rip chat noir). (and fook the sandman myth) He gains more abilities as time goes on and more fighting he does. Default power (just for reminder): He able to zap people and make their nightmares reality Gained powers list (in order): He will later be able to put people to sleep which would gave them nightmares Similar power to wishmaker expect its not childhood dreams. It just wishes in general, he able to grant them but he can either twist it for evil or grant the wish properly. He able to imprison people inside their own dream. he can now summon things out of his own dream or make it reality (can be past or present). he can bring people fears to life too (is not the same as nightmares just for clarification) Telekinesis He can go to sleep and can enter astral form. He can enter people's dream and warps it if he wants too or just watch. (he also have oneiricpotence awhile in dream) He can create an alternative dream universe and teleport people in it (he have oneiricpotence here too).

stronk kid Weakness: i made this so i wouldn't make him an absolute god machine All his powers works best at night. If use it in day, it would fail or it would work but it will go absolutely wrong. The only powers that don't suffer this is telekinesis and wish power. (sleeping power would work in afternoon and night) He can't keep using dream warper, alt dream, or dream imprisonment or else he becomes sick. (and when he's sick, his powers don't work properly{ he also gets dizzy})

He can't be astral for a long time, he will eventually snap back to his body. he still as fragile as an child.

Notes: He summons his pillow instead of being with him already.

Never of them wanted to be heroes in the first place.

Sandboy's hair only glows when its dark. Sandboy would change back to boy when all negative feelings are gone. For Nathalie in this au aswell, she pretty much don't want hawkmoth keep using his miraculous before he ends up in a coma. Eventually, Gabriel gets too sick and Nathalie takes his place. Nathalie attempts to fix both peacock and butterfly miraculous to continue his goal. She becomes Penumbra.

However, before she became penumbra, she was also effected with the glitch from Gabriel causing her to have catalyst stay in her aswell. Unlike the boy, she still have her own personality as catalyst and can use her power without transforming. idk why but its probably to make her dangerous. But Gabriel finally knew how the kid could transform to sandboy (he was wondering how he was transforming to his akumanzation form he given him) before he passed out (after he was defeated as scarlet moth.) So when gabriel got too sick, her goal was to find out more about that boy. Recurring characters

Even though chat noir and ladybug is still in the story, but they wouldn't have much focus.

Unlike in the original, ladybug or chat noir doesn't know sandboy's true identity but still thinks he a running akumanzation. however they don't attack him because he helping with the other villains. They confused if he an enemy or ally tho {why not both}. (they do thank him for defeating certain villains) They still have same personality and attitude. Other shit ig: This fake au takes place in season 2. The ep sandboy is no longer near heroes day ep, it would just be swapped with collector. Sandboy becomes less rude and bratty later on. Most fights would take place at night Sandboy had to learn hand to hand combat to be useful without using his night powers. There is no romance involved what so ever. Even though Nathalie fixes the butterfly miraculous, it wouldn't fix the glitch that happens to both her and the boy. She have to find something else in order to do that. Season 4 is were Gabriel's sickness gets worse and Nathalie takes his place. The boy would have 2 friends with him but its not manon or chris. The boy would be given a name. The boy would later find out how to change to sandboy without having to make himself scared. Remember this an fake au and this all came from my imagination/head. It just an idea. anyways see ya imma continue my own au now.

[thinking1bee]

Cheated Part 2

Requested By Anonymous

Pairings: Lena Luthor X Reader

Tags: ANGST, Violence, Blood, Humor, Some smut, Flashbacks, Fluff, Explicit Language 

Taglist: @owloftheshadows

*** Lena Luthor: 3 years later***

The last 3 years with Lena had been amazing. There were definitely ups and downs, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You knew Lena could love, but you didn’t know that she could love hard. The depths of her, the pieces that everyone else didn’t get to see, she usually kept buried. Even with you, it took several months for Lena to let her walls down around you. You knew her family history. You knew that she struggled to trust, so now that you had it, you would do everything in your power to protect it. Beneath the cold exterior that surrounded Lena like a second skin, was a hurt woman who wanted to love and be loved. She wanted to experience as much acceptance as anybody else in a family, and as the black sheep of the Luthor clan, that never happened. You wanted to give Lena all of that love, you wanted her to be happy, you wanted what she wanted.

Now, you were cuddled with her on the couch, watching the live action Grinch movie, while you were both in comfortable sweats, and a bowl of popcorn nestled between your legs for easy access. Lena didn’t understand this movie, and she understood your fascination with it even less, but she never passed a chance to make you happy.

You were quiet, and with your eyes glued to the tv when Lena gently kissed you. Her soft lips ghosted the skin below your ear that met your neck, and you shivered in her hold.

“What are you doing back there?” you asked while turning your head to look at her. Lena was the picture of perfect innocence. And mischievousness. Want darkened her emerald eyes and you could feel her pull you closer to her chest.

“Oh, nothing,” she whispered. That, in fact, meant that she wanted something. And from the way her hands were trailing closer and closer to the cotton of your sweatpants, you could take a guess at what it was she was after.

Smooth and lithe fingers slipped beneath your underwear to part the folds of your center. You already knew how wet you were. Lena had a sex drive unmatched to anyone else you’d ever been with, and she was so experienced. The first time you had sex with her, she had you coming in 30 seconds and you felt like a complete virgin. Lena had to reassure you frantically that it was normal for that to happen as you were seconds away from smothering yourself with the pillow in sheer embarrassment.

A single digit dipped into your core to gather your arousal and Lena began to rub your juices lightly on your clit, effectively snapping you out of the fond memory.

“You’re so wet for me baby girl,” she husked, her lips ghosting the shell of your ear before dipping down to place wet kisses on your neck.

You couldn’t even get a response out. With the first swipe of her finger, you were already a shuddering mess. The pleasure that coursed through your veins had your toes curling.

“What about the movie?” you barely whispered before a soft moan left your lips.

Lena chuckled before she gently nibbled your neck, her finger not once pausing in their movements against you.

“Trust me, darling. There will be plenty of more opportunities in the future.”

And she was right of course. As long as Lena would be a part of your future, there would be plenty of opportunities to make as many memories as you could.

***Presently***

You went to prison with little to nothing in your possession. All you had was a photo of you, Lena, and Alexa when she was just a couple of months old. What little you had was either seized by the DEO or given to Lena. Lena. Just the thought of her and Alexa, your daughter made your heart throb. You wanted to see them more than you needed your next breath, and it was the thought of them that kept you strong enough to survive this. You wanted to hold them both in your arms, you wanted to hug Alexa close enough for you to feel her heat, you wanted to tell Lena to be strong…but there was no way. Lena was too mad at you, and for something you know that you didn’t do. It was only a week inside and you felt stir crazy. The other women kept staring at you and it made you more on edge than you wanted to be. Your arm was feeling much better, but it was still in a sling, so if a fight were to occur, you would definitely get an ass whooping.

Your picture, too precious to be lying around, would stay on you at all times if it could be helped. You were lying in bed, your cell mate doing enough pushups on the floor to put a DEO operative to shame, when a guard approached the door to your cell.

“Luthor, you have a visitor.”

Immediately, your cell mate stopped to look at you.

“Luthor?” she asked in an almost hostile voice. You hate the way the hairs raised on your arms, but you weren’t goin to show your fear. You weren’t even going to answer her. Instead, you jumped from the top bunk of the bed and follow the guard to the visitor’s area.

Once there, you immediately see blonde hair and blue eyes that sent a wave of relief so strong through you that you thought you were going to pass out. You immediately take the seat across from Kara, and you didn’t realize that you were crying until she wiped the tears away using her thumbs.

“Sorry,” you mumbled while you immediately tried to get a grip.

“Don’t be sorry Y/n. How are you?” she asked with a soft, sympathetic smile.

“I’m in literal hell. I shouldn’t be here Kara and you know that.”

She nodded and was silent for a minute.

“I recruited James and Winn to help me,” she offered. “Winn may have found possible evidence that’s linked to you being set up, but it’s not enough to prove your innocence.”

She said the last sentence in a rush before your hopes could get too high. It was silent again and you almost dreaded asking your next question, but at the same time, you needed to know.

“And Lena…?”

Kara shook her head, and you closed your eyes as you tried to swallow your anger and disappointment.

“I’m sorry Y/n, but she won’t come.”

Against your willpower, the tears began to well behind closed eyelids and you almost bit your lip off in an effort to keep them back.

“She really thinks I did it, huh?” you said in a voice that sounded too broken even to your own ears, and in a millisecond, Kara was enveloping you in a warm gentle hug.

“No touching!” one of the guards barked and you flipped him off.

“I’ll try again,” Kara promised. “But you know how Lena is.”

And that made you laugh because you did know how she was.

“Stubborn as hell.”

“You know it,” Kara said with a smile.

“If Alexa gets that trait from her, I’m going to be so totally screwed.”

Kara laughed and you two sat back down and kept talking.

***Lena Luthor: Hurt***

You and Alex were assigned a major mission together and it required you to fly halfway across the world to the access point and jump out the plane from thousands of feet in the air to reach it. J’onn entrusted you two with the mission, with Kara as support in case anything major happened. The objective was clear, to find and eliminate a hostile alien. All attempts of reasoning and subduing them had been futile, with the alien breaking free and causing more damage to both people and property in consequence. Kara wanted to take care of the alien herself, but they had immediately surrounded themselves with enough Kryptonite to kill her if she got too close. A big team of agents would alert the alien to our presence and that was something we had to avoid. If it had to be done, it would need to be done right, and as you and Alex crept down the halls of an underground, concrete facility, you mentally rehearsed the plan in your mind. You were to flank the alien and whoever had a clear shot first, was to take it. Luckily, this particular alone had no notable active powers. According to their dossier, they had heightened intelligence when it came to strategizing and demolitions, making them still dangerous.

“Are you guys okay in there?” Kara asked you over the comms.

“Yeah, we’re alright,” Alex answered. “We’re headed into the main room. Do you have eyes on us?”

There was long pause, and you could practically feel Alex cock an eyebrow.

“Kara?”

“Uh, yeah...the room you’re headed into is lined with lead. I can’t see inside. Please be careful.”

“Perfect,” you groaned. “At least this one is prepared.”

Alex chuckled lightly, your sarcasm not going unnoticed. You approach the door and look at her.

“You ready?”

Alex nodded and you kicked open the door, which was surprisingly easy. One of the hinges flew off of the door from the force of your kick and you eyed it warily. Standing back to back, you and Alex had pistols draw as you searched for the target. The room was bathed in a green glow. The abundant kryptonite cast an eerie light throughout the room, and though the room was illuminated, the radioactive crystals that embellished the room cast more shadows than the light could chase them away.

“Do you see anything?” Alex asked you quietly and you shook your head.

“Eyes open. Spread out.”

You were about 10 feet away from Alex when you saw the shiny glint of something small being pointed towards her, and it was too dark for you to get an accurate shot. You reacted, sprinting towards Alex faster than ever, and you reached her, your arms encircling her body and turning her around, when you heard several pops from behind you.

It happened too fast, and you could feel several points on impact on your back, along with Alex raising her gun to fire at your attacker. You landed on top of her harshly and rolled away from her before you could hurt her further. As you settled on your stomach, that’s when you felt it, fiery agony spreading through you, along with a warm wetness that was soaking through your suit. Alex ran to you, her hands steady as she gently lifted your head.

“I heard shots, is everyone okay?” came Kara’s voice through the comms.

“Y/n has been shot, and it’s bad Kara. One bullet barely missed her spine.”

“Okay I’m coming in,” Kara said.

“What about the kryptonite?”

“Alex, what about her? She’s worth it and we don’t have time to waste.”

You heard the full conversation, and you went to say something when a bone wrenching cough exploded from your mouth. Along with it came a mouthful of blood and it was like you couldn’t stop it. Mouthfuls of it kept coming up and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

“Shit! One of the bullets pierced her lung. She’s drowning in her blood.”

Kara crashed through the ceiling some feet away and immediately gasped in pain. You lost the ability to keep you head up but through blurry vision, you could see her veins highlight green beneath her skin. They throbbed in time with her heartbeat and she took ragged breaths in an attempt to breathe through the agony. Kara barely had the energy to look you over properly like she wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” was all she said before she scooped you into her arms. Your scream of pain was muted by gurgles of blood and you felt bad when you coughed it all over her and her suit. Kara went back to the hole she made and stood under it.

“Will you be okay?” she asked Alex and then grimaced as the pain increased.

Alex nodded, knowing for sure that she shot the alien in the head.

“Yeah, just get out of here,” she said, rushing Kara out before she got incapacitated along with you.

The fly home was a blur, and the time spent in the medical bay was as equally faded into oblivion. All you remember is your back and how it ached and burned in the worst ways imaginable. You were tired, so when a nurse slipped a mask over your face and told you to sleep, you happily obliged.

You woke up to Lena, who was beside you with your hand in her grasp. She was tired, the exhaustion and frustration etched clearly into her face. You tried to blink and shake the grogginess from your brain, but it only served to agitate your wounds. You winced and hissed as tears came to your eyes.

“Don’t move,” Lena said softly, but the look on her face betrayed the sentiment in her voice.

“Are you mad?”

She was silent and green eyes studied you. As the seconds ticked on, they got softer and softer until she smiled at you.

“No, I’m not mad. I was worried. Alex told me that you got four gunshots to the back and one of them pierced your lung. The nurses had to stabilize you long enough for Kara to go back and get her. Alex was the only one you could do the surgery.”

You sighed and kissed the back of her hand sweetly, loving the fact that you’ve woken up to see her again.

“You couldn’t do it?” you asked her.

She shook her head. “You would have drowned in your own blood before I would get here.”

Everything was quiet for a minute as you held Lena’s hand tightly. You were about to say something when the shiny glint of something on your hand distracted you. You squinted as you brought your joined hands closer to your face. Maybe it was the medication or the fact that you’ve been out for some time, but it looked like a ring.

Lena laughed as realization dawned on you.

“Lena is this what I think it is?” you asked incredulously.

“At this rate, you’re going to get yourself killed. I at least want you to be my wife before that happens.”

She paused as she got on one knee beside the bed and looked into your eyes.

“Y/n L/n, will you do me the honor of marrying me?” she asked you.

Cue the record scratch that had you frozen in surprise on the bed. You weren’t too sure if this was real, and you went to pinch yourself, but your movement caused your back to flare painfully.

“Are you okay?” Lena asked, more confused than anything.

“This is real? Like, this is happening, yes?”  you asked.

Lena laughed and kissed you gently on the lips. That caused your heart rate to skyrocket and the heart monitor connected to you went crazy. It was only a few seconds when you heard the sounds of feet running towards your room and Alex rounded the corner, skidding to a stop in front of the bed. She looked at you, and then Lena, before she scoffed and crossed her arms.

“Guys, seriously?” she said, unimpressed.

You smiled and showed her your hand. Her eyes drifted to the ring that adorned your finger before her eyes got big and she squealed in excitement.

“Well???? What did you say?” she demanded excitedly.

“I’m saying yes of course.”

Part 3

[thenamesseven]

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Domestic violence, fights and a lot of swearing.

A/N: Hey! I’m back with another chapter! Just wanted to say how much I appreciate how much you’re all supporting this story, thank you so so much, I really appreciate it! Anyways, I’ll let you read now, hope this chapter is as good as the other ones!

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The strong urge you felt to meet Jongho again was getting out of control and that was exactly what you didn't need. Another chance to see each other hadn't been presented yet and you were starting to become impatient, you've done enough waiting all this years. However, you knew that after the little moment the two of you shared back in the basketball court the other day, Wooyoung was alerted and would question every single move you did that involved Jongho. He surely hadn't believed you completely when you acted as if you weren't working in this prison because of him and after seeing the way you stuttered and stopped caring about your patient when he came into your view, Wooyoung had reasons to believe you were up to no good. 

He hadn't said anything about it yet but you knew that if you weren't careful enough, Wooyoung would be there to highlight whichever mistake you make. 

Although you needed to talk with Jongho, even if it was for a few seconds.

He needed to know why you were here, you wanted to reassure him, to let him know that all the years he lost behind bars would be given back soon, but you couldn't come up with a way to make the two of you meet. 

Based on what you've heard from Mingi, Jongho was somebody that avoided fights in here, sure he had gotten into a few but if he could avoid trouble, he would. That meant the possibilities of him visiting the infirmary were very slim unless he decided to hurt himself on purpose somehow. On the other hand, since you had grown closer to Mingi after working with him for a few days, you thought of the possibility of telling him about everything so he could help the two of you out, but you were too scared to share this kind of information

If you trusted the wrong person then it was game over for Jongho and you, hence why you still wanted to wait to talk with your best friend about looking for alliances. 

Unconsciously, your eyes drifted to the framed picture you had brought from home to place it on your desk when you were redecorating the infirmary and a soft sigh left your lips. The picture showed two people’s hands, their fingers forming a heart. An involuntary smile came up your lips when your eyes quickly recognised Jongho’s fingers, you remembered that day perfectly, almost as if it had happened yesterday.

Flashback.

“That’s gay, I’m not letting you save that picture” Jongho whined when you showed him the picture you had snapped sneakily while the two of you had been doing random shapes with your fingers, you knew him well enough to know that he didn’t dislike it that much if he hadn’t tried to steal your phone from your hands to try and delet it himself “(Y/N)”

“I won’t show it to anybody, I promise” You assured him, chuckling quietly while you saved the picture “I have worse pictures of you, what’s so bad about this one, huh?” Nudging his side gently, you turned your head to look down at Jongho, who had made himself comfortable on your bed. He didn’t even ask for permission to lay on it anymore, your things had become his at some point and he considered his things yours.

“Well, people can’t know I go around making hearts with our fingers” He said frowning, suddenly laughing when he realized how stupid that sounded out loud “I’m supposed to be this cool and chill guy, people are going to think I’m whipped for you” 

“Hey!” You slapped his chest making him laugh even more, you knew his words didn’t mean anything more than to tease you and that’s why, despite you trying to stay serious you always ended up laughing with him “Wouldn’t be the first time they think we’re a couple” You mumbled laying down besides him, letting out a big sigh “You’re the reason why nobody dares to ask me out, look at what happened to poor Soonyoung” Your lips scrunched up in a small pout as you kept scrolling through your Instagram, liking random pictures.

“Good” Jongho said laying on his side, placing one of his arms across your stomach, facing you so he could also sneak glances at your feed “The less idiots you date, the less I’ll have to share you”

End of the flashback.

That afternoon the two of you laid on your bed like that, being lazy and playful, without a care in the world. Who would have told you that same night would be the one that broke the two of you apart? You had been certain that you would spend the rest of your days besides Jongho, that if you didn’t end up dating, the two of you would be those kind of friends that always stayed besides each other no matter what.

But like always, your father had to put an end to the only person you adored the most in your life. He detested seeing you happy, he wanted Jongho out of your life.

Flashback

Jongho had gone out to buy some food from that pizza place the two of you had recently discovered,  you had insisted on just calling at the place so they would deliver it at your house but he, stubborn as ever, insisted on going there would be much faster. He was kind of right and the place wasn’t that far, so you didn’t waste too much strength in trying to convince him to stay in bed with you.

Zapping through the different channels you had in your television, you snuggled against the pillows you had laying around on your couch when you heard the main door being unlocked. You frowned, turning your head, waiting to see Jongho there complaining because he had forgotten his wallet, when unfortunately, Jongho wasn’t the one that greeted you.

It was your father and by the look on his face he was in one of his moods again.

“Dad?” You called out quietly, not knowing if you should either run upstairs and try to put some space between you and him or wait on the couch to see in what way he would react. Love and hope were dangerous feelings, despite his behaviour, your dad was the only family you had left and you loved him without limits which made you have hope in him, in his words when he said he would change even when he didn’t even try anymore.

Love and hope were the ones that froze you on the couch that night thinking he wouldn’t do anything.

“What are you doing there?” He asked while he took off his jacket, throwing it onto the table as he made his way into the living room. His eyes instantly landed on Jongho’s backpack and a scoff abandoned his lips “Whoring around again? Should have expected it”

“We were just watching a movie” You replied sitting straighter, eyes on him and body getting tense when you realized this conversation was taking the same route as usual, you knew how this would end.

Or at least that’s what you thought.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to talk back to me” He instantly said, glaring down at you “Do you think I’m stupid!?” The sudden rise of his voice made you flinch, something that always got on his nerves for some reason. The man you called your father reached down to grab some of your hair, yanking it back so you would be looking into his eyes “I asked you a fucking question!” 

You opened your mouth to reply but closed it again when you saw the look in his eyes. His pupils were dilated, thanks to whatever he had sniffed earlier and his breath was tainted with the scent of the cheap whisky he managed to buy with the little money he earned in his job. This had happened too many times for you to already know that no matter what you replied or what you did, it would be wrong and he would take it as an insult.

When your father realized you wouldn’t be answering his question any time soon, he used some of his strength to stand you up by your hair, taking advantage of his height to tower over you. “Why don’t you just admit it (Y/N)? Daddy’s not home so you need a man over” His words hurt you, even when you had heard them multiple times, they still had the same effect on you “Or is the other guy the one your fucking? Who is it?” 

You still don’t know what happened to you at that moment, what came over you or crossed your mind, but something deep inside of you clicked, maybe you had simply reached your breaking point, you truly were tired of standing these situations through a couple of years. Instead of scared, you felt fed up, sad but frustrated and incredibly angry at him, even when he was your father, he didn’t have the right to talk about you or your friends like that, he didn’t need to get Jongho or Wooyoung involved, he didn’t get to criticize them when they were the ones taking care of you because he wasn’t around most of the time.

“It’s none of your business honestly” You replied, your father was so caught off guard that you had talked back to him in that moment that he didn’t even know what to do with himself. “Maybe I’m fucking both of them, would that make you proud?” 

Your “indiscipline”, as he often called it, was what made him react and before you could break yourself free from his grip, he swung his free fist at you and punched your cheek. The impact made you stumble back, falling down onto your butt. One of your hands instantly flew to where he had hit you, touching the hot skin and feeling how it was quickly swelling up. 

You remembered the cold silence that stayed between the two of you, the feeling of your father’s eyes on you as you stayed frozen in your place. “That’s what whores get” He spit out, approaching you again “If you knew how to fucking close your mouth and legs we wouldn’t be in this situation now, would we?” He reached down and yanked your hair back once again, your eyes meeting his.

“If you didn’t drink and sniffed whatever shit you’re doing at the moment, we wouldn’t be in this situation” You said with your eyes drowning in tears, lower lip shaking as waves of pain kept your entire body tense. You doubted your jaw was broken but he had sure landed a good swing on it “This is not my fault, this is all on you”

Those words earned you another punch that matched the kick he gave you when he let go of you. You remembered how you broke down on the floor, screaming for him to stop and go away as he screamed back all kinds of insults and threats. You remember screaming for help, screaming as loud as you could to get your neighbor’s attention so they would call the cops on him.

But they never did, they all ignored you and your pleads.

At that moment you didn’t even know Jongho was supposed to come back until he ran into the house after kicking the main door open. You still remember how your father froze mid kick to look at him and you couldn’t even move at that point, curled up on the floor with your arms covering your head as you shook uncontrollably in pain and sobs, unable to control your body due to the overwhelming amount of pain and shock that were flowing through your veins.

“Motherfucker” Jongho, with a look you’ve never seen in his eyes before, walked towards the two of you and grabbed your father by his shirt, pushing him back until he was able to press him against the living room’s wall “You like hitting her, huh? You think it's fun?” Jongho threw the first punch after those words and you swore you heard the bones of your father’s nose cracking “Well you don’t get to hurt her, you don’t mess around with my people” The groan of pain that left your dad’s lips didn’t go unnoticed by you “I’ll break your fucking fingers if I have to” 

That was exactly when the real fight started. 

Without any mercy, Jongho started delivering punches to your father as you attempted to stand from the floor. Your vision was blurry with tears and every muscle in your body hurt “Jongho” You called out to him, stumbling when you tried to step closer to the two fighting bodies your father and best friend had become.

“(Y/N) get out of here!” He shouted right when your father pushed him back, Jongho and you stumbled together and fell down onto the coffee table, breaking it in pieces “Call the police” 

“No!” Your father roared, reaching down to grab you by your shirt. He pushed you away from your friend, tossing you nearby the living room’s door before he walked closer to you, rage burning in his eyes. 

“I think the fuck not, you asshole” Jongho stood up again, your eyes on him as he grabbed your father from behind and pushed him away, making him fall onto the already destroyed coffee table. Your heart skipped a bit when the movement caused his shirt to rise and you saw what it seemed to be a gun, why would he have something like that with him?

“Jongho, I-”

“I know, I know it hurts baby” He said gently, softly brushing some of your hair away from your beaten up face as he crouched beside you. His body was tense and you could notice how his focus wasn’t entirely on you, paying attention to your groaning father who was getting ready to stand up again “(Y/N) listen to me” He gently turned your head towards him so you would be looking into each other’s eyes “Get out of here, call the cops, the neighbors, anybody” He instructed slowly, letting your tired brain process it “We need help” You remember seeing your father stand up again as Jongho swore under his breath, rolling the sleeves of his shirt back, getting ready to stop him if he tried to get closer to you “Now (Y/N)! Run out be-”

End of the flashback.

“(Y/N)?” 

Mingi’s concerned voice brought you back from your memories, making you flinch involuntarily. He was quick to move his hand away, thinking he was the cause of your reaction but when he noticed the lost look in your eyes, he knew you hadn’t been scared by him but by whatever memory the picture you were holding triggered.

“Sorry, I was daydreaming” You quickly apologized, cheeks turning slightly pink from the reaction you’ve just had towards him as you cleared your throat “No duties today?” Looking up at him, you couldn’t help but smile seeing Mingi sitting down in the nearest chair. 

These days, whenever the infirmary was calm, the two of you would just sit down and chat about random stuff. Sometimes Mingi would tell you stories about him, others were about Jongho and the rest of the gang and sometimes he would tell you creepy stories about the people who died in the cells. It was friendly and entertaining conversation, just to kill some time.

“Nothing at all” Mingi said with a small smile, leaning back against the comfortable seat “I see you’re as bored as me, no work today?” He asked looking around the infirmary, you kept the room as clean as you could and the remodeling you had done when you started working definitely helped to make it look better

“No, so far nobody has been injured” You replied with a small shrug “How is Mingyu’s leg? Is he recovering well?” Apparently Mingyu, the guy that broke his leg playing basketball, had needed surgery and was now recovering back in his cell. You were supposed to take care of his wounds but nobody had brought him over yet “It will take some time before he starts walking again” 

“Jongho was pretty excited when he saw you” 

Mingi had been dying to bring the subject up, he knew his friend well enough to know that if that day he hadn’t been held back, Jongho would have ran to you and embraced you in front of the other inmates and guards. He didn’t know if they were rules against it but Mingi guessed that would have got you in trouble for sure.

“Was he?” You asked with a quiet chuckle, it was obvious Mingi had been dying to share this piece of information with you and his excitement was starting to steal giggles from your lips “I was happy to see him too, he looks like he’s holding up well”

“He’s a strong guy, Jongho knows how to survive in here” Mingi brushed it off, crossing his legs as he got more comfortable “He avoids unnecessary trouble from other inmates and officers” 

“I’m glad to hear that, I’ve been so worried all these years for him” You muttered under your breath, no realizing what your words could mean until you saw the smirk on Mingi’s lips “No” You quickly said with a quiet chuckle, your behavior only made him smirk more, Mingi started laughing noticing your sudden rejection to his thoughts.

“I didn’t say anything” Mingi stated raising his hands up in surrender

“I know what you’re thinking” You said pointing a finger at him, making him laugh “And we never dated”

“Well the two of you have pictures of each other near-”

“(Y/N) never dated anybody, she broke all our hearts”

Wooyoung’s sudden appearance startled the both of you. Mingi quickly uncrossed his legs and sat up straighter on his chair, trying to act as if he hadn’t been chilling with you this entire time but you only looked at Wooyoung with a small frown on your face. Had he been there all this entire time listening to your conversation?

“I never dated anybody because Jongho scared everyone away” You replied looking at him, Wooyoung shrugged sitting down in the chair next to Mingi’s. You noticed how he slightly tensed up but you assumed it was because he was an officer.

“You two know each other?” He asked quietly motioning with his finger between Wooyoung and you, with a smile, you nodded at his question.

“He was in Jongho’s and my class, we are friends” Mingi suddenly frowned looking at Wooyoung, he seemed confused, almost frustrated while the other male completely ignored him. You knew there was something bothering the inmate but you figured he wouldn’t talk about it with Wooyoung around.

“Anyways, who were you talking about? You never dated who?” Wooyoung asked curiously, eyes going from Mingi to you.

“Soonyoung, he was a funny guy but I didn’t like him in that way” You brushed off, lying straight to his face. So much curiosity coming from him was starting to make you suspicious and you decided that leaving Wooyoung out of your plans and conversations with Mingi would be a good idea.

“Ah, poor guy” Wooyoung said with a small smile, the memories of your teenage tears coming back to him “I still remember when Jongho and I hid his backpack in a random locker and he spent the entire morning looking for it” Mingi forced a smile up to his lips when Wooyoung looked at him, there was tension between them, you were definitely missing something.

“Anyways, what are you doing here? Need anything?” You suddenly asked, looking at him with a soft smile.

“Yeah, do you have any pills for headaches? I barely got any sleep last night and it’s killing me” Wooyoung asked with a soft sigh, his eyes following you as you stood up to get him something.

“Told you a few years ago, the amount of caffeine you drink in a day will end you” You scolded with a quiet chuckle, seeing him roll his eyes playfully.

“I drank coffee because you were the one keeping me awake at night” He openly flirted, chuckling when you gently slapped his arm.

“Get out of here before I kick you out” You warned and Wooyoung nodded obediently, standing up as he took the painkiller from your hand.

On his way to the door, he patted Mingi’s back in what seemed to be a friendly way but you could see in his eyes that he was incredibly tense around him “See you at lunch Mingi, behave man” He muttered before going out of your office leaving the two of you alone.

When Wooyoung left, the atmosphere in the room was still tense, an awkward silence had settled down between Mingi and you, completely forgetting about the happy conversation you were having before he came in. 

Sitting back down, you decided to break the silence since Mingi didn’t seem to have any intentions to do it “What was that about?” You asked, seeing him visibly relax once Wooyoung seemed to be out of both of your sights.

“I would have never guessed you used to be friends” Mingi said with a worried look on his face 

“Why?” You said with a chuckle “Because he is an officer now?”

“No” Mingi replied, shaking his head for emphasis “Because Wooyoung is always the one that gives Jongho the hardest times in here”

Taglist: @guess--monster​ @cometoceantrenches​ @lovelyvitamin​ @daintysan​ @t-tbinnie​

[demonwifey]

Beetlejuice + Phones📱: Part 2

WHEW, so this is here. Yesterday I posted some headcanons Beetlejuice using phones. Now this is a part 2 and it’s ENTIRELY NSFW. IF YOU’RE NOT 18+, DO NOT READ. Hope the rest of you enjoy!��🖤💚

Warning: Cursing, recording/pictures with sex, rough sex mentions

-  You already knew a plethora of nudes were coming when you showed Beetlejuice how to use the camera on your phone. At first it was funny. 

- You guys would be cuddling in your bed with him passed out on your chest. You’re checking some social media when something in your gut tells you to look at your photos. 

- There are at least 3-4 rows of dick pictures. You would’ve bust out laughing but you didn’t want to wake him up. 

- When you get him his own phone, you pay him back the favor. 

- But you are light years ahead of Beej when it comes to nudes. You turn nudes and teasing into a whole new art form. You’ve got filters and special effects on your side. 

- You basically steal his phone while he’s sleeping/napping. That’s the only time you can take it because every other time it’s practically glued to his hands. You’ll sneak away for a few minutes to take some pictures in a different room. Your favorite thing to do is put Snapchat stickers over the parts you know he wants to see.  

- Bro. In the morning, you’re in the shower, right? That’s when you hear a loud bang coming from outside the door. You poke your head out of the shower curtain looking like ‘wtf?’. 

- Then Beetlejuice busts through the door, practically sweating and looking like a feral dog. His hair is beaming pink like the first time you guys had sex. You get a glance at the phone in his hand and you already knew. 

- You tried to make a teasing remark but before you could open your mouth, Beetlejuice’s suit had disappeared into thin air and the phone was dropped to the floor. In two seconds flat, he was smashing your mouths together and moving his hands to grab those parts you hid in the photos. 

- “You’re such a fucking tease.” He groans. Your back is against the wall while his body blocks some of the water. He’s biting your neck heavily. 

- He’d gotten ruthless with the hickies and bruises on you since quarantine started. Since you weren’t leaving the house, there was no reason to hide the marks that showed you were his. Yeah, it was only you two in that would see them. But he loved when you walked around the house wearing a loose shirt that showed the deep red mark on your neck. 

- “Mm, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You faked innocence with a cheeky smirk. And that was it for him.

- Beej turned you so that your front was facing the wall. You were way too excited as you felt his dick press against your opening. You responded with a filthy moan as he pushed all the way in, not holding anything back as he fucked you roughly from behind. 

- It wasn’t so much a game that you two played from then on. It was more of you sending/taking sexy pictures on Beej’s phone and riling him up to the point of no return. 

- Thank God he wasn’t going anywhere. Just like your contact name, he changes his screensavers of you ALL. THE. TIME. There is never a time when his screensaver isn’t a picture of you.

- The first lock screen picture was a cute one you two took while sitting on the couch. Then one day you picked up his phone to put it on the charger. Once it was plugged in and the screen lit up, all you saw was your nipples out, clear as day. 

- The next one was that ass shot it took you damn near 10 minutes to take. You were trying to get a good angle, geez. 

- The one that really takes the cake, was the one of you bent over in front your bedroom mirror. One hand pulling and squeezing one ass cheek to show everything between your legs. Everything. 

- Then you started thinking about using his phone for videos. 

- It was just like before. Videos you took while he was asleep or distracted. Touching yourself, moaning, and everything in between. 

- That’s when Beetlejuice, unintentionally, changed everything. 

- It was one night after sex. You had just cum and Beej wasn’t far behind. He quickly pulled out of you and released himself on your stomach. Nothing new, it was pretty normal. So after you got your breathing under control, you went to grab a tissue to clean yourself up. But he stopped you. 

- “Hold on one sec, babycakes.” 

- You looked confused as he hurried to grab his phone off the bedside table. Without warning, you saw the camera flash at the mess on your stomach. 

- “B, what’re you doing?” 

- “I gotta save that for later, babes. It’s too much of a masterpiece.” 

- You could’ve come 5 more times just at the loving and lustful look on his face. But the way you felt while he was holding the camera on you, made you have the biggest epiphany ever. ...Well, more like a new kink realization.

- You never filmed yourself having sex. Your friend always talked about how they would film sometimes with their boyfriends and girlfriends. You dated in college but it was nothing ever serious. But you loved Beej. And this was something you definitely wanted to try with him. 

- Now, you finished your classes, passed everything, and now it was summer break. No more work to worry about. All your focus was on Beetlejuice. 

- You brought it up to him one day while you were watching TV. You guys’ had set up blankets and pillows all over the floor and were watching some crappy horror movie. 

- You both were laying on your stomachs, mostly talking, not really watching the movie. And you brought it up. 

- “So, B. I was thinking.” While you used one hand to comb through his green locks. 

- “A dangerous scenario.” You pushed his head gently as he laughed. 

- “Anyway. Like I was saying, remember a few nights ago when you took that picture after we finished having sex?” 

- A few strands of pink appeared in his hair and his grin was something sinister. “Ooooh I remember very well, babes.”

- “Weeelll, I was thinking that maybe we could do that again...but record ourselves throughout the whole thing.” You weren’t sure when he jumped on top of you but he was.

- “Babes, you gotta be very clear with what you're telling me right now. Because you know I’m game for everything.” His eyes have that feral glint in them again. You thought you’d be more excited than him, but apparently not. 

- “I want to record us having sex. Whatever we do, I want the camera on us.” And you gave him a long sensual kiss. 

- And boy did he give you what you wanted. 

- Almost every time you guys went at it, his phone was on you. It was safer that you used his phone. He didn’t have any other contacts or social media. So there was less chance of a video getting accidentally sent to the wrong person. 

- His phone is FLOODED with videos. This is the type of content porn sites would pay for. 

- And everything was enhanced by 10 because Beej was a demon.

- His multiple limbs would make everything more exciting. You’ve got one hand playing with your nipples. One hand tight around your neck. One arm is wrapped around your front, playing with your clit while he pounds into you. 

- And the phone is there to get it all. Either you or him was holding the phone, or you’d set it down to position perfectly. 

- Beej was never sure about which was his favorite video. They were all too good to choose a favorite. You sounded so sexy in all of them. Especially when you’re moaning his name with so much desperation, begging for more harder and faster.  

- Just like emojis, why did you teach him how to connect his phone to your bluetooth speaker? 

-Are you trying to cook dinner with some music playing in the background? Too bad. 

- You’re cutting some vegetables and suddenly you hear yourself moaning, the sound echoing and bouncing off the walls. 

- “Aah~ Beej~ Please, baby! Harder!” 

- “You want it, doll? Ugh, fuck~ You’re so tight.” 

- “Beetlejuice! Turn that down! My neighbors will hear!”

- “That’s the whole point, babes!”

- Even though he didn’t make it easy for you, you never regretted getting him that phone.

This is lowkey self-inserting because I find myself becoming more and more interested in taking sexy pictures and videos. If you’re a horny bitch like me, you probably enjoyed. Anyway, thanks for reading!💜🖤💚

[worldwidemochiguy]

Angel (Yandere! Hoseok)

Summary: Hoseok is your best friend. You’ve gone through thick and thin together, he’s always been there for you. Sure, sometimes he’s a little over-affectionate, but its normal to be tactile with your friends, right? He’s very protective, but that’s just how all guys are with their female friends, right? And sometimes, he can get to where you are so quickly it’s like he was following you, but that’s just coincidence, right? Right?

Warnings: Yandere behaviour, drugging, weak reference of violence

Word Count: 2.5K

Masterlist :)

a/n: in response to an anon request for prompts 8 and 11 with hoseok. I hope you like it !! (also pls don’t let this get less notes than my other fics just bc its hobi bc come on guys he deserves more than that he’s our hope 🥺🥺)

8. “Look, this is for the best. You don’t understand now, but you will.”

11. “Let me see that pretty smile.”

Angel

 You sigh, slumping onto your couch, relieved to finally be back at home. You got a paper graded and returned to you today and… you haven’t done as well as you hoped you would. Sure, your grade is ok, but that almost makes it feel worse. It isn’t bad enough to complain about but it isn’t good enough for you to feel justified after spending all that time studying. Basically, you feel really shitty. But luckily, you happen to have the human personification of Sunshine as your best friend.

You pull your phone out, dialling his number and, as usual, he picks up after the first ring.

“Angel?” You smile when you hear his nickname for you. That’s what he has called you since the day you two met. At first, you found it a bit strange but by now you’ve grown used to his affectionate ways.

“Hobi!” You exclaim, already feeling better for talking to him, but he can still note a sense of remaining sadness. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Another one of his nicknames for you. He really is the nicest person on Earth.

“I just-” you sigh, almost not wanting to tell him in case he thinks less of you. “Never mind. I feel better now I’m talking to you.”

“Angel,” Hobi coos down the phone, “I love talking to you too, but you really should tell me why you were sad. That way, I can help you fix it!” His phrasing, though joking, holds an inherent command in it. Hoseok has always been that way though, so you don’t really mind.

“I got my paper back and… I got a B.”

“That’s amazing, angel!” He immediately replies, and you pout, not realising he can’t see you through the phone.

“It’s not~” you whine, “It’s ok, sure, but I stayed up all night studying for that test! Don’t you remember?”

“Ah, yes.” Hoseok says, sounding nostalgic. “You drank like five cups of coffee and almost threw up. I did tell you your stomach was too delicate for that stuff, angel.” 

“That is besides the point! I just mean, I spent a lot of time preparing for that test and I still only got a B. I even thought I did really well after I wrote it.” Your voice becomes quieter towards the end, betraying your feelings of insecurity and disappointment. 

“Oh, angel,” Hoseok says quietly. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix it for you. I’ll fix everything.” 

“How can you do that?” You ask tiredly. A knock sounds at the door, and to your surprise, it’s Hoseok at the door with a box of Doughnuts. 

“With dangerous amounts of refined sugar.” He answers solemnly. You can’t help but fling yourself into his arms and laugh. 

~~~~

“…no, but-” You try to reply, spraying crumbs as you try to speak through your mouthful of doughnut. Your fingers are sticky with glazing and wildly articulating as you try to find your point. 

“My point is…!” You finally decide, and Hoseok drums his (also sticky) fingers on the coffee table to build suspense.

“My professor sucks!” You finally burst out. “He hates me! He always grades me harshly, even though the kid in front of me got an A, and he submitted one sheet! One sheet! He didn’t even use citations!” Hoseok is not displaying the appropriate outrage you believe your declaration merits. He doesn’t even look like he’s listening to you anymore, he’s laughing too hard to even breathe and his face has gone all red. You suddenly worry that he’s not getting enough air and lurch over the couch to reach him, ending up sprawled over his chest with your nose inches from his. 

He has been pushed onto his back, and you’re effectively pinning him down. His face is certainly a lot redder.

“Are you okay?” You whisper loudly. 

“I forgot what you’re like on a sugar high.” He mumbled. 

“Am I being annoying?”

“No,” Hoseok immediately replies, “You could never annoy me, angel.” His arm curls around you, keeping you where you are, and to be honest you don’t mind. Your best friend is a very comfortable pillow. You tell him as much, and his smug ‘thanks’ are the last words that chase you off to sleep. 

~~~~

“Wake up, angel.”

You open your sleep-crusted eyes to see your friend’s smiling face shining down on you. You scowl. Hoseok is the most obnoxious morning person.

“Be quiet. Sleep.” You mumble before burying your face in his chest again. You feel his hand run soothingly over your hair, petting you, and you let out a happy sigh. 

“I’m sorry, angel. I would love to just stay here like this all day, but you have class in an hour and you need to have time to properly wake up and have breakfast.” 

“Mmmh, no.” You mutter, stubbornly nuzzling your face into his collarbones. He lets out a sound resembling a groan and you freeze for a second, before reassuring yourself that you two are best friends and its normal to be tactile.

“Angel, you really aren’t giving me another choice here.” You hear Hobi say, and suddenly he’s twisting around beneath you and planting his feet on the floor, somehow rising to stand up with you in his arms. You let out a cross between a squawk and a scream, clinging to him desperately as he laughs. 

“Hoseok!” You yell, which only makes him laugh harder. “Put me down!” 

“I don’t know, angel.” He muses, “I might just carry you to class like this. Would you like that?”

“No!” You reply indignantly, “…I mean, at least take me to my room.”

“As my angel commands.” Hoseok smirks, doing as you ask.

You get changed into fresh clothes, and part of you wonders why Hoseok didn’t just wake you up after you fell asleep and tell you to go to bed. It can’t’ve been comfortable for him to lie on the couch all night with you on top of him. Also, how did he even get to your apartment so quickly? He doesn’t live anywhere near you, and you’re pretty sure he had no classes in the area yesterday. In the kitchen, you can hear him making breakfast so you decide to just ask him.

“Hey, Hobi?” You call as you leave your bedroom.

“Yes, angel?” You hear, coming into the kitchen to see Hoseok cooking something on the stove with an apron tied around his neck. He turns to greet you, and his eyes widen.

“Angel, you look beautiful today.” He compliments, and you blush like you always do when anyone says anything remotely nice about you. 

“Thanks, Hobi.”

“Anytime.” He sounds strangely sincere, and you remember what you were going to ask him.

“Hey, uh, how did you get here so quickly yesterday?”

“…huh?” He’s turned back to the food, and you can’t see his reaction.

“Yesterday? When I called you? You got here pretty quick, and you don’t live anywhere near me. And I’m pretty sure you had no classes around here?”

“…I had a meeting with a professor so I was in the area. I was kind of planning to drop by anyway.” 

“Oh.” You nod in understanding, missing the way Hoseok’s shoulders relax, just like you missed that obsessive gleam in his eyes when he saw you enter the kitchen. 

He watches you keenly as you cut out a piece of the omelette, so keenly that you laugh and put the fork down, feeling too embarrassed to eat while someone looks at you so intensely.

“What, you aren’t hungry?” Hoseok laughs, though you can detect an undercurrent of hurt in his words.

“No, you’re just… watching me like you’re expecting something to happen when I eat it. Have you put anything in this?” Hoseok gasps in mock outrage.

“Like I’d do anything to ever harm my angel!” He exclaimed, before shoving a forkful of the breakfast in his mouth, chewing quickly and swallowing. “See? Nothing wrong with it. Will you eat it now?” You laughed and nodded, starting to eat it as well and moaning at the taste. You see Hoseok stiffen out of the corner of your eye, but he relaxes after a second or two so you think nothing of it. Meanwhile, Hoseok can think of nothing but that sound you just made, and how he can get you to make it again, over and over until it’s the only thing he can hear. 

Two days later, your professor — the one that hates you — approaches you after class. 

“M-Miss Y/n L/n?”

“Yes, sir?”

“It appears I graded your paper incorrectly, you have achieved an A*. C-Congratulations.” You are so ecstatic you don’t notice how nervous the professor seems, his eyes continuously darting around him as if he’s scared someone will jump out and attack him. As if someone already has. 

You dial Hoseok’s number the second you leave the college building. As always, he picks up straight away.

“Hobi!” You squeal, excitement leaking through your voice, and you hear his warm laughter on the other side of the phone.

“Yes, angel?”

“I got an A*!!” You tell him and he gives a cheer, and you can just imagine him pressing the phone to his shoulder with his ear so that he can raise both his hands in celebration — Hoseok was just enthusiastic like that.

“See? I told you it would be ok!” 

“I know, I know, I should listen to you more often. Come to my place! I want to have a celebratory dinner.”

“Ok! I’ll be right there angel.”

“Bye Hobi!”

The second you get into your apartment, you are greeted by a squealing Hoseok with an armful of balloons. 

“Hoseok!” You yell in surprise as his arms encircle you tightly. “Where- how did you even have time to get balloons?” Hoseok grins sheepishly.

“Let’s just say… I predicted this celebration.” 

You shrug and move further into your apartment. Hoseok has set it all up for a dinner, complete with mood lighting and even a red velvet tablecloth so that the two of you could dine across from each other like you were at a real restaurant.

“Oh, Hobi!” You squeal, “I love it!” You run to him and throw your arms around him. Immediately your hug is reciprocated and he tucks you into his chest where you feel most safe. 

“I’ve laid out a dress for you on your bed, go and get changed while I set the table.” Hoseok instructs and you nod, doing so without protest. The dress he has laid out is beautiful, a short red silk slip covered by layers of delicate lace. You put it on and even take extra care with your hair and make up. It has been a while since you felt pretty, and you want to put the effort in tonight, even if you aren’t going out.

When you step out of your bedroom, you are greeted with the sight of Hoseok turned away from you, placing the cutlery on the table. He cleans up nice, wearing a fancy, fitted suit and you aren’t ashamed to say that, if he wasn’t your best friend, you’d climb him like a tree. He turns around when he hears the sound your heels make across the floor and, when he sees you, a brilliant smile spreads across his face.

“Angel,” he breathes, stretching a hand out to you, which you take. He guides you into your seat, pushing it in for you like a proper gentleman, causing you to giggle slightly. “You look… wow.”

“Thanks Hobi,” you blush, “you look wow too.”

He brings out the food, and it smells so mouth-watering that you don’t even waste a second before tucking in. Hoseok just sits there, seemingly content to watch you eat with a dreamy smile on his face.

“God, Hoseok,” you moan through a full mouth, “this tastes so good. How long did this take you?”

“Oh, only a couple of hours. It was nothing, I did it all for you, angel.” 

“You spent hours?” You gasped, “Hoseok, that’s so- I didn’t even call you until, like, an hour ago.” You pause, confused, but Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind.

“I know, but I knew that you would be getting the news of your grade today, and I knew you would want to celebrate with me, like you always do. You’re so adorably clingy, angel.”

You feel like you’re missing something. There is something very real and very important, but it just keeps slipping out of reach. Hoseok notices your grip on the stem of your wine glass loosen slightly, and he gently removes it from your lax grip so you don’t drop it.

“But… how did you know about the grade. Also-” You come across another realisation, “How did you even get into my apartment? I haven’t given you a key.”

“Oh, that was easy, angel. I just copied your key while you weren’t paying attention. Honestly, you’re so clueless. If I weren’t around to take care of you I don’t know what would happen to you.”

“Hoseok-” you slur, your head suddenly feeling incredibly heavy. He rises from his chair and moves over to your side just in time to allow you to slump against him. He gently guides you until you’re lying on the floor.

“As for knowing about your improved grade,” Hoseok continues, unperturbed, “I knew you had a class with that professor today, and after the threats I gave him, he was definitely going to tell you as soon as he could that your grade had changed. What a coward. It won’t be hard to get rid of him.”

“G-get…rid of him?” You mumble, with barely enough strength to part your lips. 

“Well, of course, angel! He can’t be going around with that kind of knowledge about what I can do. It would be a danger to both of us.” He explains in a condescending tone, hushing you when you try — and fail — to roll away from him. “Hush, angel, don’t struggle. I know you’re confused, but this is for the best. You don’t understand now, but you will.”

“W-What’d’you do to m-me?” You half-sob, tears leaking lazily out of your droopy eyes. He shushes you again, leaning in to place a kiss to your temples and brush away your tears. You only cry harder.

“It’s just a little sedative, angel. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you, you know that, right? This is just for… ease of transfer.”

“Transfer?” You can barely keep your eyes open anymore, everything blurring and swirling in your vision. 

“Yes, I’m taking you to my home. Our home. You didn’t think I’d just let you go now that I finally have you, did you? Now, come on angel, don’t cry. Let me see that pretty smile.”

[reversecreek]

lily for magda (thinking about figs feeling evil), tulip for cricket, marigold for ziggy, chrysanthemum for bradley, belladonna for nyla

lily :   how does your muse view their mother ?  

magda doesn’t know a lot abt her mum. she knows vague snippets n details bt they’re all very elusive. it’s kind of a tricky subject where her mum’s concerned bc when she was younger she’d come up w all these assumptions abt how her mum was n who she’d be if she were with her but the rational part of magda was like..... u don’t know any of this. ur literally making things up. it’s kind of hard for a kid to have that vital person missing from their life n to resist the urge to fill in the blanks with their own projections so the space feels less empty. it’s like having a tooth missing n ur tongue always going back to poke at the spot in ur gum. there’s a constant reminder of loss in that. magda knows her mum liked to sing bc her dad said once she’d always sing to her belly when she was pregnant. this is a lot of the reason why magda has always cared so much abt music bc she took this fact in her fist n grasped it tight n never let go n in a way grew parts of herself around it. it’s like............. i feel like her mum dying in childbirth gave her lots of issues when it comes to her identity n like. who she is n who she wants to be.......... bc of magda’s issues w her dad i feel like she got into this habit growing up of rly putting who her mum could have been on a pedestal n basing everything around that.... she’d be like I’m More Like Her (a belief which was only accelerated bc her dad would drunkenly say she looked so much like her) n cling onto that so she liked herself more bc the other option was her dad who she loves but he’s also an incredibly flawed person n they hv a complicated relationship...... i think as she’s gotten older she’s realised her mum cld very well have been that way too n putting people on pedestals isn’t the way to go about things but. idk. as a kid she was kind of obsessed w this idea of her n this idea that her mum being gone was the beginning n end of everything wrong in her life. for the most part now magda accepts she never knew her n sometimes even feels stupid for grieving her at all bc she never knew her to grieve in the first place but. there’s a tiny part of magda tht still hangs on to the comfort of what she could have had n it’s obvious by the fact she still keeps a photograph of her folded up in her pillow. she loves the mum she made up in her head n she wishes she got to meet her. there’s this sense tht maybe then she wouldn’t feel like this culmination of missing parts more than a person if she’d had that in her life. sighs n lks away holding my dyed black emo bang.....

tulip :   how does your muse view people in general ?  

cricket is like. the strangest little anomaly of a person FGHKSFGHSFKGH bc like. u would rly think that after everything he’s been thru he would just have this absolutely jaded view of people and life in general and i wouldn’t even......... blame him for it if he did like. i’d understand completely bc he’s experienced A Lot of bad stuff. n yet somehow he just.... idk. i think i wrote in a reply once this comparison of cricket n a cockroach in the sense that they have this incredibly reinforced exoskeleton n even if they’re stomped flat they can keep living n bounce back from it n that’s very him but it’s more specifically the hope inside him. he has this little candle lit that good things can still happen midst all of the terrible things n i genuinely can’t see it snuffing out at any point even tho sometimes he might want it to. sometimes i think he even gets into these frames of mind where it jst infuriates the fk out of him bc in his head he’s like why do u even think good shit can happen when u have sm overwhelming evidence to the contrary but then he’s also like. look u can dwell on the bad or u can notice the way the light falls thru the leaves in the trees and u can think to urself inside ur head as u listen to someone u love talking abt something that makes them happy ‘hey this feeling is nice n there’s a dozen others like it’. idk. against all odds he’s an optimist. he has tinnitus in his left ear n sometimes he pretends the ringing is angels trying to talk to him. he likes to search for the silver linings in things to make them bearable n that’s how he gets by. obviously he knows there’s evil in the world n that a lot of people can be shit bc he has firsthand experience w that but he also believes there are people to serve as the antithesis to that n he wants to focus on them bc like. why give bad stuff the time of day. not necessarily always a positive coping mechanism (if u bottle up bad feelings n thoughts they leak thru one way or another aka his overwhelming anxiety) but like.... i think there’s a lot of bravery in that n i respect him for it i won’t lie. he cld have become very bitter bt instead he’s like that quote that’s like 'the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it'. suddenly slaps his little anxious rump (supportive) (affectionate)

marigold :   is your muse prone to jealousy ?  how might they handle envious feelings ?  

it’s hard to say w ziggy............... i feel like he doesn’t want to think he’s prone to jealousy bc he’s like i’m literally a god wdym i simply wld never give a fk bc i know i’m above all else................. but like. do u actually believe that ziggy. do u. FKGJHKSJGHFGSHFGKSHGKFHG. he’s good at convincing himself at least........... has me fooled too most of the time. bt. thinks abt this.............. i feel like he doesn’t tend to get jealous over ppl he hooks up w a lot of the time bt there’s definitely a few select ppl he might.......... n then he doesn’t rly know what that feeling is bc he’s so unused to feeling it so he’s like wtf why am i so fking pissed off over the thought of this person fking that person? like literally doesn’t even. connect the dots n make the logical conclusion bc it jst seems so bizarre n nonsensical to him. rly is awful at working out his own feelings like. he cld just suddenly explode one day n have to smash a bunch of shit in a junkyard n after his chest is heaving n he has all this broken stuff around him n he’s just like yo wtf was that man forreal lmfaoooooooooo..... like he just doesn’t even get how his own emotions work it’s tragic n it’s men for u. w anxious feelings he represses them a lot he doesn’t rly understand what they r or know how to recognise them........... i honestly feel like he has a lot of anxiety surrounding his mum esp w her dating n like some of the guys they’ve both had to deal w that she’s dated in the past.......... i doubt he processes that healthily or expresses it healthily either..... probably contributes to the tensions between him n his mum they hv a lot of underlying issues that come out in the form of bickering n petty disagreements...... probably a huge contributor to him acting out so terribly in high skl was just all this pent up worried energy with no means of making sense of itself or like. place to go. like shaking a coke bottle over n over n finally having to crack the lid n let it fizz on something. i also think he probably swallowed a lot of jealousy growing up whenever other kids had gd relationships w their fathers or parents in general probably ws kind of like lmfaooooo yo why don’t mine love me like that. in his head...... so ya. i think he copes w anxious feelings by acting out n also fucking if we’re being honest......... it helps him let off steam <3 king of clapping cheeks ig....

chrysanthemum :   how does your muse express romantic love ?  how do they feel about love as a concept ?  

bradley is kind of hard to read romantically like from an outside perspective but slides on my thin rimmed spectacles n picks up my scalpel to delve right in to the nitty gritty of her brain... omg... that sounded... kind of scary actually but. it’s ok. basically settles in. bradley struggles to verbalise her feelings in this regard but also in a general sense honestly.... like she’s spent a lifetime having any vulnerable or negative feeling shut down....... her dad’s the type of personality where it’s like... u can’t win. even tho he’s narcissistic n thinks he’s a god if u compliment him or express affection he’ll act pleased but there’ll also be this register in his eyes where he thinks less of u for it. so this rly had a domino effect in bradley’s emotional expression in all grounds of life...... romance is probably the most frivolous concept to tony so bradley definitely internalised some of these views n wld feel stupid for ever taking anything seriously in that regard or rly investing herself..... she also just. idk. love has only ever left bite marks in bradley’s world so she’d kind of like ‘why wld i ever expose my tender spots n open myself up to someone just so they can sink their teeth in’. i will say tho that like. despite that she can in rare instances develop those feelings n it’s always like..... quite a struggle for her when she does. she doesn’t rly understand it or how to deal w it. she finds talking about it hard n she feels childish or weak in the eyes of whoever knows how she’s feeling. it takes a long time n a lot of work to earn it bt bradley in love is like. ur the only person on the planet who knows how gentle she can b. she’d literally like. touch the face of this one guy i wrote her being in love w when he was sad so gently it was shocking it ws like a love tht deep unlocked a whole other part of her she didn’t know existed. sex is a big part of her love expression jst like. a lot of it. so much. JHGSFKHGSFGKHFKGSHG let’s get it.......... she’s a ride or die n doesn’t do anything in halves. she has a nasty habit of pushing good things away n also wld probably do this to protect the other person bc her world is a never ending shit show with her father’s presence in every room even when he isn’t physically there. she wldn’t wna subject someone she loved to the danger of that bc she hates it enough herself so. idk. smiles w hand on hip. love isn’t something bradley thinks is on the menu fr her bc she’s only ever known it to be hard or mean n why bother trying when that’s the case. it feels like there’s always small print attached tht will hurt her in the end n nothing is free or genuine. very doomed outlook on love in general tbh.

belladonna :   how does your muse respond to silence ?   do they take comfort in soundlessness ,   or seek to fill the void with noise ?  

nyla honestly doesn’t mind silence at all........ they always wake up rly early in the morning no matter what time they went to bed. it’s like someone programmed an oven timer into their brain n often when they wake up at 6am or something they’ll go on walks around irving tottering in their own little world which is quite a quiet experience in itself when the rest of the world’s asleep........... always off on impromptu adventures they came up w on the spot.......... sometimes they get lost in their own train of thought too so they just randomly fall silent bc they’re having a whole conversation w themselves inside their head or like. writing a whole children’s story abt an iguana in a trench coat floating in a hot air balloon smoking a little vintage pipe all the way to peru. honestly for every 1 thing nyla says there’s about 4987295749572592745 things they don’t say tht are x100 times stranger n more nonsensical they sort of let it all drift thru their head like an open sieve for the most part. having said tht i think in order to sleep at night they probably need some sort of white noise or smthn................. it’s handy living in a beach house bc they just leave the window open to let the ocean gush bt sometimes if they’ve snuck into like. mido’s bed fr the night or someone’s bed idk the sound of them breathing works too................. they used to always sleep w bob ross playing on loop n that was rly comforting to them esp bc he reminds them a lot of their dad w his calming voice n energy.............. sometimes they’d have taken smthn n they’d literally hallucinate it as their dad instead of bob ross n this happened so many times in a row fr a period of time tht when they finally watched it sober they were like wtf since when did they recast my dad in this show...... KJHFGSHFGKSHFKGH but also. frowns... bit sad considering. 

[i-just-love-spop]

...and then I found you. [Part three]

Part one | Part two

“Why are you looking at me like that? Did I miss anything important?” Glimmer rubbed her eyes, for the first time since she woke up realizing that her husband was holding a small bundle in his arms. "Hey, what'cha got there?"

Bow blinked at her a little irritated, unsure if his wife was kidding or not.

“Uh, you know, the baby you just gave birth to today?” He answered after a moment.

“Ah, okay.” The Queen of Bright Moon paused when she realized what her husband had just said, then shook her head. “Waiiiiit.” She chuckled. “Yeah, right. Very funny, Bow. The baby's not coming for another week... Besides, don’t you think that’s something I would remember?”

—

Actually less a request than just the result of me and @darkmasterofcupcakes talking about Glimbow (and stubborn Glimmer that would insist on still working until literally the last minute of her pregnancy) for way too long that spiraled into a huge fic. This is the first out of either two or three parts, depending on how long the rest of this ends up being.

Companion fic to “One night, I wished upon a star…” which completes the title.

Summary: Everyone is really worried about Glimmer, who probably just really needs some sleep and who’s just a little bit woozy when she wakes up again.

The baby meets her parents for the first time and is named.

(There is a tiny bit of cursing in this part as well.)

—

“Glimmer!”

Adora shrieked and reached out towards her unconscious friend. All of her friends immediately rushed to the woman’s side.

Asa on the other hand was a little preoccupied swaddling the baby in a small green towel and couldn’t check on the baby’s mother immediately when she passed out.

...and the others freaking out in the background did not help calm the crying newborn down.

“I’ll take you to the healers‘ chamber right away, okay?” The healer mumbled and rocked the baby a little to calm her down. It didn’t really work. “I know, I know, being born sucks, and then you don’t even get a proper blanket. Life’s unfair. You can complain about that all you want. I just have to check on mommy real quick so your dad and your aunts can stop yelling, okay?”

The kid was still crying. Asa didn’t blame her.

“Bow, would you-“

It took one look at him to know that he would not be taking his eyes off his wife for even a single second to take the baby. He was immensely freaked out at Glimmer just passing out like that.

It was as if the rest of the world has just disappeared, the only two things remaining being him and his unconscious wife, and he apparently couldn’t even hear Asa or the baby crying. That was how distracted he was.

Adora and Catra obviously weren’t an option either, as they were currently clinging to each other and crying their eyes out.

“...alright then, I’m just going to check on her with one hand and hold the the baby in the other arm! That’s fine!”

It really, really wasn’t, but it also wasn’t like they had much of a choice. Asa just groaned.

“Can you guys please calm down a little? It’s not like she died. She just passed out. All of this noise is making the baby upset, and you‘re making it really hard for me to concentrate.”

Adora still refused to let go of Catra, but she did visibly relax, at least a little. After hearing that there was a possibility, no matter how small, that a person could die while giving birth, that was also immediately where her mind had gone after Glimmer had passed out, despite the fact that she was quite obviously breathing.

“...is she going to be okay?” Bow asked after a while, still just looking at his wife mostly in silence and not really realizing what was going on.

He was holding Glimmer‘s hand while Asa checked her breathing and heart rate, not even letting go of it for a single second.

The process would have worked better if Bow hadn’t been holding her hand because that got in the way of Asa working a little, but they weren‘t under the impression that he wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. That they were holding the crying baby in their arms didn’t exactly help the situation, either... but after some time, they were done checking the basics as well as they currently could.

“She’ll be fine, don’t worry,“ they told the others. “She’s doing pretty good considering she just delivered a baby without pain meds in the middle of the meeting room,” they added and gave Bow a gentle pat on the head. All things considered, Glimmer seemed to be in a relatively good shape. “She’s just exhausted, which is more than understandable after everything. It’s probably going to take some time for her to wake up again, but she’ll be okay. I’m going to get the baby cleaned and checked up now. Maybe you guys could take Glimmer to her bedroom so she’s more comfortable? I’ll examine her there more thoroughly as soon as I’m done making sure the baby is okay, but from what I can tell now, she was barely ever in any actual danger and even if she had been, she is definitely out of it now.”

The entire room breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that. They all crowded around the table, and for at least a moment, it seemed like nobody other than Asa was paying much attention to the crying little girl in their arms. That was just how freaked out everyone was.

“It would probably be for the best if you guys could just used a stretcher to carry her – she’s already going to be sore enough without one of you, like, flinging her over your shoulder or something.”

Bow nodded and was about to ask who would do something like that anyway when he saw the blush and weird look on Adora‘s face that made it very apparent that she felt addressed by what Asa had said.

...he decided not to ask. The best-case scenario for this was probably some weird bedroom-story that he really didn’t want to know – and if it wasn’t that, he had a feeling he wanted to know it even less.

“Could one of you guys go get a stretcher?” He asked after a moment.

Catra nodded, hugged Adora tightly one more time and then slowly untangled herself from her wife.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Promise?”

Adora had tears in her eyes. The whole situation was obviously getting to her a lot, and she hated the thought of Catra leaving right now, even if it was just for a few minutes.

“Of course. Always. I promise,” the brunette said softly and smiled at the love of her life one more time before turning towards the door.

All three currently awake members of the Best Friend Squad were really shaken up.

“I’ll just take the baby to your room when I’m done examining her, alright? And Bow... don’t worry about Glimmer too much, okay? She’s going to be okay. She just needs some sleep.”

The healer had known these guys for years. They knew how they each reacted to situations like this, and that no matter what he was told, Bow was going to stay at Glimmer’s side for the next several hours because he wouldn’t be able to completely calm down and stop worrying about her until she woke up again. Adora would probably try to heal her, which, considering that the main reason the Queen had passed out was exhaustion and not an injury, definitely wouldn’t work – although it would undoubtedly spare her at least some of the soreness when she woke up again. Meanwhile, Catra would pretend to not be worried in the slightest, when, in reality, she definitely was.

That was just how they were.

Bow was so focused on worrying about Glimmer, he didn’t even realize he hadn’t seen the baby yet until Asa had already left the room.

—

The King of Bright Moon was so done with the day, he decided to not even question the gigantic hole in a wall they passed when they brought Glimmer to her room. That was not something he needed to take care of or worry about right now when he already had bigger, way more important things to worry about.

The weird look on Adora’s face when they passed it made him even more certain that that really wasn’t something he needed to know right now.

He wasn’t able to form many coherent thoughts until they’d finally brought Glimmer back to their room after what felt like ages.

Adora carefully lifted her friend into bed. She closed her eyes to turn into She-Ra, but when she tried to heal Glimmer, it was to absolutely no avail.

The blonde immediately turned back into regular Adora and sank to the floor, completely resigned. This was the first time she could remember that her healing had had absolutely no effect since she’d mastered it, and it scared her, even more than the entire situation in general already scared her.

“Asa said she’s tired, not hurt,” Catra commented in an attempt to calm her wife and herself down as she put her arms around Adora. “That’s why this isn’t working.”

Melog nudged the blonde‘s hand in an attempt to cheer her up. It wasn’t really working. Adora nuzzled their nose, anyway.

“You’re probably right, it’s just... I hate feeling so useless.”

“Adora, look at me, okay?” Catra pulled her into a quick kiss. “You’re not useless. Don’t talk like that. You did what you could. Now we just need to let her sleep for a while, alright?”

The blonde just buried her head in her wife’s shoulder and pulled her close.

—

Meanwhile, Bow was pretty preoccupied making sure Glimmer was as comfortable as humanly possible.

“There, see? I kept my promise. You’re back in your bed now,” he whispered and kissed her forehead as he finished tucking her in. The bed was a thousand times softer and more comfortable than the table had been. Glimmer snuggled into the pillows, groaning softly, but definitely still unconscious. He smiled at her and gently touched her face to brush a strand of hair away. “You did great. Rest now.“

He sat down on a chair next to the bed that they usually shared and held her hand.

“You know I love you, but damn it, Glim, do you always have to be so stubborn?” Bow whispered.

He silently cursed to himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t understand why she did it – and honestly, he kind of should have expected it. He’d known Glimmer for so many years now, after all. He knew what she was like – but he still wished this had gone over differently.

That had been terrifying.

He just wanted her to be okay...

—

“Should we, uh, give you guys some privacy?“ Catra asked after a while, interrupting her friend’s thoughts.

“I...” Bow sighed. “That might be a good idea, actually. Asa did say it will probably take some time for her to wake up again. I’ll use the tracker pad to contact you as soon as anything changes, okay?”

His friends nodded simultaneously.

“She’ll... be okay, right? Should I heal her again?” Adora asked before they turned to leave.

Bow smiled weakly.

“That’s really sweet, but I agree with what Catra said. The reason it didn’t work the first time is that Glimmer isn’t really hurt much – like Asa said, she’s just exhausted.” He kept telling himself that, because it was much more calming than any possible alternative explanation why the healing hadn’t worked. “Oh, and speaking of... thanks for the help earlier, you two.”

Catra scratched her head.

“I mean, honestly, we were not very helpful,” she admitted.

“Yeaaah, she kind of has a point. I mean, I broke down a wall. And Glimmer yelled at us a lot, sooo...” Adora added in agreement.

“The constant running into and out of the room really wasn’t very helpful... But other than that, I’m really glad I had you two to help me. I swear, I almost had a heart attack when I thought I might have to deliver the baby myself.” He shuddered. “Oh, by the way, is it... okay for you guys to wait a bit before you meet the baby? I think if Glimmer wakes up today, she’ll probably be too tired for visitors, and I also don’t want to overwhelm the child immediately.”

“Of course.”

“We’ll be... in our room, or something,” Adora mumbled. She was still shaking a little.

“We’ll see you tomorrow”, Catra added, taking her wife’s hand and giving Glimmer one more worried glance as they left the room.

—

“Catra?” Adora whispered as soon as they’d closed the door behind them. Her wife turned around and looked at her.

“Yeah?”

“Promise me something, okay?“ Adora gulped. “Promise me we won’t do this anytime soon, because no child in the universe could ever be worth losing you.”

She loved her so much. She couldn’t be without her again, not after everything they’d gone through to find their way back into each other’s arms. The thought alone was enough to make her panic.

“Hey...” Her wife hugged her gently. “You’re not losing me again any time soon, okay? I promise.” Melog nudged Catra gently as they meowed in protest. “Alright, alright. Us. You’re not losing us anytime soon. Point taken.”

Adora bit her lip.

“I... sorry. For being so weird, I mean. This whole situation has me pretty freaked out.”

Catra chuckled a bit.

“Adora... you’ve always been weird. That’s what I like about you, you doofus.” She nudged her in the ribs gently. “And I think we’re all pretty freaked out right now.” She looked down at her animal companion. “Including Melog. So it’s not exactly just a ‘you’-problem. Some of us are just a little better at hiding their emotions than others.” She squeezed her wife’s hand and kissed her cheek. “Want me to distract you for a while?”

Adora blushed and smiled.

“Always.”

—

“Hey, Bow?”

He gave a jerk when Asa put a hand on his shoulder. At some point, he’d completely zoned out in the chair, and was therefore really startled when they touched him.

“Oh, hey.”

He didn’t even look up.

He still hadn’t let go of Glimmer’s hand and continued to stare at her, looking for any sign of improvement or worsening in her condition. He still saw neither, which was worrying and at least somewhat calming at the same time.

He wasn’t even sure how much time had passed since Adora and Catra had left.

Everything was kind of a blur.

“Would you look up for a moment? I can keep my eyes on Glimmer for you while you do it, but there’s someone here that would love to meet you.”

He reluctantly tore his eyes away from his wife to look at the small bundle Asa was holding in their arms. Then, finally, the reality of the situation hit him. In all of his worries about Glimmer, he’d almost blanked out on the reason she had passed out in the first place.

The baby.

They had a baby.

“Congratulations.” The healer handed him the small blue bundle. The baby was swaddled in a soft blanket now. She didn’t seem to hate the world as much anymore since. “You’re officially a father now. She’s perfectly healthy.”

For what might have been seconds, minutes or hours – he really couldn’t tell –, the world stood still as he he held his daughter in his arms for the first time.

He immediately broke down in tears.

She was perfect in every way imaginable. He could see a bit of himself in her with her dark brown eyes and her very mixed skin tone... but other than that, the girl was Glimmer’s spitting image. She had her nose and her smile, and the bit of hair she already had on her head was a soft purple color.

“Hi...”

He held her carefully, one arm supporting her head as she yawned and snuggled against him.

Stars, even her yawns were perfect...

He was surprised by how light she was, and by how warm her tiny little figure felt against his skin. It wasn’t a feverish warmth, but that of a happy, healthy baby that was safely swaddled in what was probably the most comfortable blanket he had ever touched.

“She’s really cute, isn’t she?” Asa smiled to themselves. They loved seeing new parents get emotional over their children. It was the cutest thing in the entire world.

“She’s amazing...” He breathed.

Asa used the time that Bow was gushing over the baby to check on Glimmer again, properly this time. As they’d expected, she was exhausted, but other than that, she was physically mostly fine – even a little better than she had been when they left, indicating that Adora had most definitely attempted to heal her.

“I know you always worry about her a lot, but... Glimmer will be alright,” they concluded after they finished the checkup. “She’s doing really good, she just needs some sleep, I promise. Enjoy your time with the baby, okay? I‘ll give you guys some space now.”

Bow nodded. He was still immensely worried about his wife, despite everything, but for a small moment, he managed to blank out on that while he looked at his newborn baby girl.

Asa smiled at the little family. These guys drove them crazy most of the time... but in the end, Asa liked them a lot and just wanted them to be happy.

“And Bow?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you guys, and you know that, but... should you ever decide that another one of your kids should be born in the meeting room, please call a different healer.”“I love you guys, and you know that, but... if you ever have another baby in the meeting room, please call a different healer.”

The King of Bright Moon chuckled.

“Understood.”

He was not going to let that happen ever again.

Not that he thought said next time would be anytime soon – they would take some time getting used to this little angel, and Glimmer would need some time to recover – stars, after the day they’d just had, Bow was pretty sure he also needed some time to recover before he could even think of having another child; both because the meeting room situation had been... less than ideal and immensely stressful, and because the aftermath that still made him incredibly worried about his wife was something he could only take every once in a while.

For a long while, he just sat there, holding his daughter in his arms and squeezing his sleeping wife’s hand every once in a while, refusing to leave her side before she woke up.

He spent a long time just holding the baby and rocking her and telling her stories about her incredibly stubborn mom while he waited for his wife to wake up.

—

When Glimmer opened her eyes, the world was dark and pretty blurry at first. She blinked a couple of times, and slowly, the weird colors and shapes turned into her bedroom.

“...huh?”

“Oh thank the stars, you’re finally awake.” Bow hugged her. He sounded really relieved. “I was so worried about you.”

Glimmer was just confused.

“What the... Bow? What happened?”

Her memory was pretty hazy.

“How are you feeling?”

He kind of just passed over her question, assuming she would remember in a moment when she was more awake.

“I... don’t know.” She groaned. Her body felt weird. “Sore and exhausted, I guess? Other than that, pretty okay.”

He beamed at her.

“That... that’s great. I’m glad. You scared me a bit there.”

There was so much love and worry in his eyes, and Glimmer didn’t have a clue what was going on.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Did I miss anything important?” Glimmer rubbed her eyes, for the first time since she woke up realizing that her husband was holding a small bundle in his arms. "Hey, what'cha got there?"

Bow blinked at her a little irritated, unsure if his wife was kidding or not.

“Uh, you know, the baby you just gave birth to today?” He answered after a moment.

“Ah, okay.” The Queen of Bright Moon paused when she realized what her husband had just said, then shook her head. “Waiiiiit.” She chuckled. “Yeah, right. Very funny, Bow. The baby's not coming for another week...”

Glimmer sounded genuinely amused.

Her husband was a bit speechless for a moment.

‘...Okay, apparently she‘s serious. And very, very out of it.’

He decided it was probably better to ease her into it instead of just blurting things out again if she really didn’t remember, so he tried to jog her memory a bit.

“What’s the last thing you remember, love?”

“We were... at the meeting, I think?” She thought for a moment. “Did I fall asleep and you brought me here? We should get back to the meeting.”

Bow groaned. Apparently she had even forgotten that she’d had contractions at the meeting.

“No, we should not.” He stroked her hair. “The meeting ended a pretty long while ago, Glim.”

She stared at him in surprise.

“Really?” She rubbed her temples. “My memory about how it ended is a little fuzzy... Care to remind me?”

Her husband chuckled.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Apparently there was no way around simply telling her again since she didn’t seem to remember anything at all. “Glimmer, you had the baby.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sweetie, that joke wasn’t even funny the first time. I didn’t have the baby yet. Don’t you think that’s something I would remember?”

Bow bit his tongue.

‘Well, yeah, I had assumed you would, but apparently not...’

Glimmer just sighed when he remained silent.

“...okay, if you won’t be serious and tell me how the meeting ended, will you at least tell me how long I was out?”

He shrugged. He hadn’t exactly checked the time a lot since she’d passed out, but the fact that it was dark outside was pretty telling in itself.

“Oh, you know, just a couple of hours.”

“Hours?!”

She tried to sit up, but didn’t really manage to. Shit, she’d just slept for what felt like ages, and she still felt awful and exhausted. What was wrong with her? Was... oh stars, was the baby okay?

She went pale.

Bow wouldn’t have been joking around like this if their daughter wasn’t alright, would he? Glimmer patted her belly and panicked.

“She’s not kicking. Why isn’t she kicking?! She should be kicking!” She gulped when she looked down. “...why is my belly so small? Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay...”

Bow felt bad because his wife was so upset because he hated seeing her cry, but it was also just a tiny bit amusing that his wife was so woozy, she just straight up missed the fact that he had a baby in his arms.

“Glim...” He started and wanted to explain the situation to her once again. Then the baby woke up from all the fuss and started crying. Apparently their daughter didn’t like that her mom was sad, either. Bow turned his attention to the baby for a moment. “Awww, mom being upset made you upset, too, huh?” He tickled the child and gently tapped her nose. “Mom’s okay, I promise. She’s just... a little out of it right now. And really worried about you, despite not needing to be, because she loves you so, sooo much and doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

The baby giggled.

Glimmer lifted her head.

She was wide awake all of a sudden.

Her eyes went wide when she finally realized what Bow was holding.

“Oh stars, you weren’t kidding...” She mumbled, then gasped for air when she looked at her daughter for the first time. “She’s so small... she felt so much bigger.”

She couldn’t stop staring at the tiny child in her husband‘s arms, slowly reaching for the little girl to touch her. She was completely mesmerizing.

Bow smiled at his wife.

“So, now that we’ve established that the child was actually, really born already... do you want to hold her?“

Glimmer teared up again. It was happy tears this time.

She still couldn’t believe it.

“Can I?”

“Of course.”

He placed the baby securely in her mother’s arms.

Glimmer started full-on sobbing, which made Bow’s expression immediately changed from happy to worried.

“Is something wrong? Does anything hurt? Should I go get the healer?”

She shook her head.

“No, I- I’m fine, it’s just...” She rocked the baby in her arms and squealed. “I... can’t believe we made this. Oh Bow, she’s perfect. She’s so beautiful...”

He kissed Glimmer’s forehead.

“She has your nose,” he whispered.

“And your eyes...” Glimmer sobbed as she held the baby close. “Hi...” The little girl giggled. “Hi... I’m your mom...”

The baby squeaked.

“Look, she’s saying ‘hi’ back!”

For a while, Glimmer just smiled at the baby. She couldn’t stop looking at her.

Then the Queen’s eyes widened in shock.

“...Oh stars, she was born on the meeting room table, wasn’t she?”

Apparently the memories were finally coming back, after all.

“Yeah, kinda.” Bow chuckled. Now that he knew both his wife and the baby would be okay, he could laugh about it. “I told you your stubbornness would come back to bite you eventually.”

She sighed.

“Yeah, I guess.” The memories were definitely back now, and oh stars had she been a dumbass. “That whole thing was not my brightest moment. And I promise, I’ll never do that again.” She shuddered. “That was terrible. I’m not giving birth to another kid without pain meds, EVER AGAIN. Lesson learned.”

“That counts for something, I guess.” He squeezed her hand, still completely mesmerized by the baby. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, just like his wife couldn’t, despite the fact that unlike her, he had already been looking at their daughter for several hours before this. “I wish you hadn’t been in that much pain. That was really hard to watch.”

“I yelled at everyone a lot, didn’t I?” She kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, really. I’m just... really glad you’re okay. I was pretty scared for a moment there, especially when you passed out. Please never do that again.”

He finally managed to tear his eyes away from his daughter to look directly at his wife for a moment.

“Yeah, it’s... I’m okay. And I won’t. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He rubbed her head.

“That’s all I wanted to hear. And yeah, you should have told me what was going on earlier, that would have been easier for everyone involved – but it’s not like you did it deliberately.”

Glimmer bit her lip and looked at her daughter again.

“I... did you... name her yet?”

Bow shook his head.

“I thought you’d probably want to be awake and do it with me – and I also wanted to make sure we talk about the name one more time before we do it, in case you changed your mind about-”

“No,” Glimmer cut in. “The name we picked is perfect... and I don’t feel ready to name this one after my mom yet. Maybe we can do that with the next one in a couple of years, if that’s okay with you, but I don’t feel ready yet. That hasn’t changed.”

“Of course that’s okay with me.” He kissed her cheek and tapped the baby’s nose carefully. “In that case... hi, Arrow.”

“Hi Arrow,” Glimmer breathed.

It felt like the most magical sentence in the universe.

The baby squeaked happily.

Bow teared up again.

“I think she likes it.”

Glimmer smiled, also sobbing happily.

“I think so, too.”

The baby looked so happy.

There was no place in the galaxy either of them would have rather been right now.

Bow protectively put an arm around his family, thinking back to the promise he had made to Glimmer’s mother such a long time ago.

‘I will protect them, Angella. I promise I will protect them with my life and keep them safe until the day I die.’

He hoped she could see them now.

He hoped she saw them and knew that her daughter was happy.

She would have loved the baby, he was sure of that.

Bow would have given anything if it’d just meant that Angella would at least get to hold her grandchild once, or for her to have one more conversation with her daughter, for them to at least find some closure after everything that had happened.

Glimmer still missed her mother so, so much... even after all these years without her.

His wife leaned into his touch and beamed.

“We need to contact Adora and Catra real quick, okay? I promised to let them know when you wake up,” he remembered suddenly, picking up his tracker pad from the bedside table.

“Awww, were they worried about me?” Glimmer asked, a little teasingly and very, very touched. Bow squeezed her shoulder.

“We all were.”

—

About half an hour later, Glimmer was sitting on her bed, her daughter in her arms, munching on what still remained of one of the sandwiches someone from the kitchen staff had been kind enough to make them at this hour. She had slept through every meal but breakfast, after all... and Bow had either been so worried that he’d been unable to eat, or he’d just kind of forgotten it when he’d refused to leave his wife’s side. ...or maybe it was both.

Arrow seemed much more comfortable and happy being breastfed than she’d been with the bottle when they tried that. She seemed to drink more this way. That was definitely something to keep in mind for the future.

Eventually, all three of them sat down on the bed. It had been a long day for all of them, despite the fact that both Glimmer and Arrow had slept through most of it.

Glimmer hummed to her baby for a while until the child fell back asleep. The crib was standing next to the bed, so neither of them would have to get up to put the baby into it later.

When Arrow finally did fall asleep, Glimmer closed her eyes for a moment, snuggling closer to her husband and smiling to herself as she looked out the window into the night sky.

For a moment, it was almost like the present and the past were one... like she could see her past self standing in front of her window, not far from where she was sitting now, reaching out into the darkness of the night to make a wish right at this moment... not yet knowing that her life was about to change forever and that she was about to find the love of her life in the woods by coincidence.

—

Once upon a time, on an especially lonely night, she‘d looked up at where the stars should have been – where her mom always said her dad was – and had wished for a friend.

Two days later, she had met Bow in the Whispering Woods.

Today, Glimmer looked up at the sparkling stars in the the sky – where she knew her mother was now –, her husband’s arms around her shoulders, her tiny perfect newborn sleeping against her chest... and she was happy.

—

A/N: *Claps hands together* And that’s a wrap, you guys!

This is actually the first multi-chapter-fic I have finished in a while (I’m pretty good at starting but not quite as good at finishing stories😂), and I’m actually pretty proud of myself for finishing it and really happy with how it turned out. It’s also my longest piece in a while, at least as far as writing multiple pretty long parts in a relatively short amount of time goes.

(The first two parts of this are each about 4k words, this one is about 5k words long, in case anyone is curious.)

I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you guys enjoyed it! Feedback would be much appreciated!

[emmyrosee]

Staying.

On The Run II

Part One.

This most certainly isn’t timely; hell, I doubt there’s any interest for this story anymore; but after writing it, scraping it, writing it and scraping it and finally getting it? I don’t care what you guys want, I’m happy 🥰

This certainly isn’t the most fun chapter, but boy HOWDY I was excited when I saw all my dots connect and UGH I’m pumped😂❤️

WARNINGS: verbal fighting, language

Gordan Merkel x Fugitive!Reader; after a series of unfortunate events lands you in East Berlin, you fear almost everyone and everything that lands in your path. And it forces you to cross with a stranger who takes a risk on you.

---------

“I’m sorry it’s nothing fancy.”

You can’t help but find some humorous comfort in the words. Gordan’s small home definitely wasn’t anything fancy. Two bedrooms, one full bathroom with a small half in the hallway. The kitchen was standard, present as soon as you walk past the frame of the front door.

You clutched the blanket around your shoulders tighter as your eyes scan the room thoroughly. Some art work decorated the light brown walls, curtains drawn tight. It wasn’t exactly in the city, a small cel de sac in which houses were spread along the curve. According to Gordan, the lovely people who lived there were more than happy to either assist him or become part of the rebellion, so while hiding you would be mandatory, being heard would only be concerning if they caught your face.

Allegedly.

Woods decorated the backyard and seemed to stretch for miles, and the sun raising was no match for the branches.

It seemed fine, small and sweet as it stays happily in the ground. You most certainly are ready to regrow your clipped wings and sleep on a bed, with lamps and blankets and windows with golden sunlight to peek through them.

That is, until Gordan guides you gently to The Room.

Hidden only by the back of a reclining chair, The Room is a small cubby-like hole, dropping down to a five-foot tall landing. The small opening is a perfect square, and the short stool just under it seems large in comparison to just how little of room there is to spare.

Boxes of liquor and crates of naught magazines take up even more room, and in the corner, a pile of blankets and a single pillow on top of a twin mattress. There’s a small pile of empty water bottles and discarded wrappers of German junk food that litter the already messy hole, and you can barely make out the small lamp and curtain drawn window against the wall.

“It’s not exactly the most spacious or comfortable room,” Gordan sighs, staring in the dark room. “But my rebels, they use the it as well. It’s never failed me before.”

Your eyes fixate on the small space, wondering silently as to how many rebels were in this port before. Gordan smiles, “it’s a lot bigger than it looks. And it’s only for a couple hours a day. When I get back home, assuring everything is shut, I will be able to let you out.”

Your eyes drift over at Gordan, who’s smiling face is focused on the Room. He holds an expression of relief, and while you can’t pinpoint your feelings, a certain calmness washes over you as well.

He seemed to have that effect on people- hell, he was able to ground you after being so skittish for three years. His whole aura was full of protection, and you couldn’t help but relish in this new feeling.

This was going to work.

—

The first few days were fine.

From 6:30 am, to 8:30 pm, Gordan was out at work. When he comes home, he doesn’t talk much about his day, though he pours you both a glass of wine and starts to make dinner before scurrying off to bed. You’re allowed to walk around when he’s home, but when he goes to bed, you’re only allowed three hours to completely get your “freedom” fix.

Television volume can only be one-fourth of the way up, and make sure the stereo is turned all the way down before playing.

Fridge is open to anything, as is the library and shower, and it all just worked.

And just as it started to come together, you could feel it slowly slipping apart.

Gordan had been staying later and later, cooking less and less and being unable to buy more and more groceries. The Room locked from the outside, though he left a lock-picking-Kit in case of any emergencies. The window creates some light, same with the lamp, but they’re so dim, what’s the point.

He’s given you books to read, mainly about Sweden and the culture and language, you assume it’s sorta like a last resort.

But you can only read for so long.

You can only count the marks on your face and deal with the flicking of the lamp, and draw shapes in the water-stains on the window for so long.

More often than not, you just end up sleeping.

Or, sort of sleeping? It’s hard to tell anymore, you think you’re asleep with how dark it is, but sometimes your muscle jerks and you think “hey, that’s never woken me up before” only to the repeat the cycle. Before, the scary shapes your imagination would try to pain through the darkness would scare you. Now they’re you’re friends, and you feel your heart shatter when they leave.

At least when you were on the run, you had endless space... here, you’re not quite sure what you have.

You just know it’s not nearly enough.

You feel you’re homesickness transform from your home and family, to the streets.

Little did Gordan know just how bad you wanted to go back.

———

You’re not quite sure when you dozed back off.

You must’ve as a loud clomp! makes your eyes fly open, only to slowly fall back shut.

Then to fly back open as the sound of thick, heavy boot-steps pound on the floor in front of the room, and after a loud screech of furniture moving, the lock to the door clicks open, head spinning wildly at the noise. Your eyes fall to the dim alarm clock.

11:42.

At night? Had you honestly been left alone for 16 hours? Left to nothing but sleep and count hair follicles on your arms?

There’s an immense, sudden flood of light that clouds your vision, and in the middle of it was Gordan Merkel. The first part of you is washed with relief, it’s just him and not the authorities as he could’ve easily given you away.

The second part of you? Rage.

“My sincerest apologies,” he says immediately, watching cautiously as you crawl out of the room. “I had to stay late, make some adjustments to files and shit. What can I get you? Are you hungry?”

With each excuse and word that Gordan says, your arms tighten over your chest, and tears sting the back of your eyes.

“Please?” He continues, “I’ll make some dinner and-“

“You’re unbelievable!” You shout, storming out of the room. Gordan’s eyes widen as he shushes you, waving his hands to quell your anger.

“I can explain-“

“I am not some fucking dog!” You scream.

“Please do not yell, we can’t stir suspicion-“

“Fuck your suspicion! You cannot leave me for hours on end with no food, no water, a crappy sense of time, what kind of monster are you!”

“There were issues at work I had to resolve,” Gordan says firmly, gripping your biceps. “You’re just going to have to trust me on this.”

“I don’t have to trust you with anything,” you hiss. You flick yourself away in anger, and Gordan pushes the fallen strands of his gelled hair back, his face holding venom so powerful, you feel sick. It sends a chill through you, and as much as you hate him, you know he’s in control.

“People who actually have to stay here, stay quite and keep to themselves. You think I like having to hide a fugitive such as yourself in my house, putting both of us in extreme goddamned danger? Do you not understand the risk I am taking for you?”

You freeze, and your heart stops. Of course you knew what a risk he was taking. Anyone associated with hiding you could be in jail themselves, but was supporting him really worth being treated like an animal?

“Y-yes, Mr Merkel,” you whimper, looking at your feet.

Evidently, yes.

Gordan takes a stride towards you, eyes still firm and authoritative. “I promised you safety, and safety is what I give you. If you are truly unhappy with my methods, you do not have to stay. Make my life safer. One less tally of suspense on my back.”

Your heart stops as if Gordan held the button to make it cease, and he just pressed it. You knew you wanted to stay, it was warmer and more assuring than outside. It was better. Gordan was nice to you, this much you knew for sure. You’d been lying to yourself, the streets were scary, you never wanted to go back.

You shrink back from him, slowly turning on your heel to blink and dab at the tears burning your sleepless, aching eyes.

You hate him. You hate him you hate him you fucking hate him. You hate this control he holds over you. You hate this twisted freedom-hostage situation. Of course you can leave anytime. You know he’s not going to stop you, but you can’t bring yourself to do so.

Against your own will, a tight, nearly silent sob squeaks through your trembling lips, and behind you, you hear Gordan sigh.

“Look at me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“And I don’t want you to cry, look at me.”

Slowly, your shaking frame turns to face him, and as you see his softened, easy face, another sob catches your throat. He crouches to meet your gaze, and when you try to look away, he tips your chin to look at him.

“Listen to me,” he says, low and firm. “I want you to be safe, alright? Your being here makes me feel like I have a control of you being alright. I don’t know what they’ll do to you if those morons find you- what I do know is when you’re here, yes, I might be late, but you’re here. And the plan is just one day closer. Do you understand me?”

You blink up at him and say nothing, a thick, hot tear slipping down your warmed cheek. He wipes it away with his knuckle, clearly unable to see how he hurt you. “But, if I’m going to keep you as safe as I can, I have to make it seem like nothing has changed. If I make anything questionable, rumors will fly. And I cannot lie to my rebels. So,” he gently grips your chin in his hand. “For now, I need you to just trust me, alright?”

Your eyes avoid his, and you gently nod your head in understanding. Gordan sighs and pushes himself up, “as long as the curtains stay closed, feel free to roam.” He rolls up his sleeves and gently walks down the hall, leaving you and your spinning head alone in the darkened living room.

Another weak, pathetic sob rips through you, and with nothing better to do, you climb back into the room, easing the door shut, part of you secretly hoping that Gordan would forget you.

Forget you, your crimes, and everything in between.

------

OTR taglist (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed)❤

@hecohansen31​

@youaremyfamiliar​

@shyvirgoanon​

@kathryn-jane​​

@billofourtime​

@little-grunge-flowerz​

@bethskarsgard​

[honkhonkrichard]

but at what cost. - Chapter One: And So The Cycle Starts Again

It's early November, 2015. They haven't even heard from each other in nearly five years. Some... more than that. Eddie had vanished off the face of the earth, Stan seemed to want nothing to do with any of them and Richie is... Well he found himself in Chicago. On Ben and Bev's couch. They have kids now, and therapy, and mentla health issues, but Richie's more than a little determined to spend his second year of sobriety fixing his wrongs, and seeing everyone's face again. Almost everyone's face again. It all depends on who will accept his apologies.

Read on Ao3 or Below :) Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

Elliot poked at his father’s shoulder the way kids do when they don’t know how to wake them. His father was shirtless, wrapped under the covers with shoulder blades out and head tucked under a pillow. Elliot had tried to call out, but didn’t want to startle him awake.

No need for more startling. There was too much of that already.  

So, Elliot used his index and middle finger to gently poke and prod at his father. His skin was a little sweaty. He smelled sweaty, too. He was up late last night working on something, talking with Elliot’s mother quietly. But his mother was harder to wake up, and much easier startled, so Dad it was.  

And his father’s eyes must’ve opened, because he stirred. His head lifted from the pillows and his mousy brown; slightly curly hair stuck to his face.  

He almost had a beard now, but Elliot figured it would be shaven back down to a polite stubble soon. Dad never cared for his appearance too much, and Mom never liked him in a beard.  

Reminds me too much of my ex-husband. She would say, and then coo at dad. Plus, it's too rough to enjoy.  

Dad always went red at this comment, but never explained what it meant. Must’ve been an adult thing. Elliot remembered growing up, kissing his father’s cheek when it was a beard and feeling the itchy prickle on his mouth for the rest of the day. Since Mom and Dad kiss so much, maybe Mom felt the same way.  

“Dad?” Elliot asked gently, confirming his dad was awake, and not just looking at him.  

“What’s up kiddo?” Dad replied. He sounded rough and groggy. Elliot was a smart 11-year-old. He knew the vague effects of hangover when his father wore them. It wasn’t so often he did this, but Elliot had seen the signs.  

“Um…” Elliot shifted on his feet. “There’s a weird man on the couch.”  

Dad shifted up more. His eyes opened properly, and the warm concern in his eyes made Elliot feel a little better.

“What are you talking about?”

Mom sat up a little bit. She was wearing one of Dad’s shirts. She looked grumpy. 

Mom was almost always grumpy in the morning, wearing a big furrowed frown, yawning and grunting. Dad liked being awake in the morning but he was a little less aware. It was fun for Elliot to watch them interact first thing in the morning.

“A man?” mom said with a bit of disdain.

“He’s tall and long and has lots of tattoos and won’t get off the couch.” Elliot thought perhaps, when he first saw the mystery man, that his house was being robbed.

He had seen robbers on TV. They went for small empty houses, not the open cottage house he lived in. And robbers wore darker clothes, and were in and out of the house trying not to get caught. Elliot knew the couch-hogger wasn’t a robber when he yanked a blanket out of JJ's hands. No robber wants to steal from a 10-year-old.

“A tall man with tattoos…” dad mumbled, eyes closing shut again and frowning, trying to remember, or perhaps wake up. “Stealing our couch?”

“He’s not stealing it.” Elliot promised, thinking about Looney Toon burglars. “He’s just trying to sleep.”

Dad leaned over his shoulder and looked at Mom, the way parents seemed to when they thought they knew something their children did not.

“Are there flags on the back of his neck? Tattoo flags?” Mom asked, still looking at Dad.

Elliot nodded. “The Irish flag, I think. Its green and white and red.”

“That’s Italian.” Dad looked over at him and then started to get out of bed.  

“Italian flag then.” Elliot said. “Should I call the police? Do we know him?”  

Mom swung herself out of bed. She looked a little nervous, which made Elliot think he should call the cops, even though the couch man didn’t seem particularly dangerous. A nuisance, yes, but you call the cops when there’s a weird raccoon in your garbage right?  

“He was playing tug-of-war with JJ for his blanket. Do we know him?” Elliot asked again.  

“You don’t know him. Your mother and I know him well.” Dad put a hoodie on. It was the soft Star Wars one. He wears it a lot when he plays with LEGO. Maybe he’ll play LEGOs with Elliot today.

“What’s his name?”

Ben scratched his chin. He did not know how or why Richie broke into his house last night. Or why he yanked Ben’s youngest’s favorite blanket from his grubby little fingers. Or how the dog didn’t lose her damn mind seeing him.

That’s not fully true. Ben could come up with answers for all but one of these questions. 1: Ben gave him one of the spare keys almost a decade ago. In case there was an emergency. 2: he probably took JJ's blanket because it’s a soft blanket and the couch's designated blanket is crap. Richie was cold, so he nabbed it and went back to sleep, knowing a nine-year-old wouldn’t be able to get it back (although he had another thing coming because last week JJ found out what an air horn was, and knew there was one in Dad’s Office) 3. Lucy probably remembered him from the last time he was here.

It was all about why then.

Thinking about that night made Ben clench his jaw. He breathed deeply. Anger is an ugly emotion; his mother always says. Just breathe Benny.

His mother is the only one who gets to call him Benny. Not even Bev called him Benny.

Richie was tucked into the fold of the couch, back bare, tattoos covering his shoulders and going down his spine. His hair was long, longer than Ben remembered it being. His jeans were still on, as evidence by the clear leather in his belt loops and the cuffs at his ankles but his shirt was thrown over the arm of the couch and his socks were on top of it.  

Ben looked to the front door. A new key on the key rack, and a pair of white converse that had been drawn and painted all over kept neatly by the front door. 

Then Ben noticed something that struck the anger out of him. Bev saw it first, of course, she must’ve been looking for it.  

“Richie, get up.” Ben said, not really caring all the much because it was Richie and Richie is like he's always been.  

Richie moved, curling in on himself, and his tattooed fingers wrapped around the opposing bicep. He was awake alright.  

“Richie. What are you doing here?” Bev asked, walking over and peeling the blankets off him. “Move so I can sit.”

“Or? Whatcha gonna do, Foxy, sit on me?” Richie said, in a clear and steady voice. Far more than Ben had expected, and by her face, far more than Bev expected too.  

“I have stilettos that would go right through your belt. Get. Up.”

Richie's legs, which had been hanging over the arm of the couch, tucked in, giving Bev room to sit.

Ben rolled his eyes.

He considered himself a forgiving guy. He forgave Bill years ago. He forgave Stan. He even forgave Eddie. But Richie was a different story. He’s spent many years forgiving him. Praying for him.

Now’s the time Tozier. Was it worth it or not?

“Richie, are you sober?” Ben asked, speaking his mind once and a while. He looked behind him, and in the hallway doorframe was his boys. JJ was bravely stepped in front of Eli, ready to get his blanket back.

“To your rooms, please.”  

They looked up at him with their wide eyes. Ben knew they were smart enough to know not to argue, given the tone of Ben’s voice, the sharpness in Beverly's words and the confusion of Richie's presence. So, they turned on their feet and ushered each other into JJ's room. In minutes Ben knew they’d cross the hall into Elliot’s room instead.  

Eileen swiftly went passed him, holding a bowl of cereal. She had been sitting at the counter. She mumbled a soft “Whoop” as she went. Ben bit back a smile.  

Richie hadn’t answered so Ben came up behind Bev, always ready to be her muscle, and backup. “Richie. Are you sober?”

Richie let out a long sigh. He was still holding himself in a tight, cowardly way. “Yes, I’m sober.”

“What was that?” Bev snapped.

“I’m sober.” Richie replied, louder this time.

Bev looked at Ben, who while looking back, rubbed her shoulder.

“Are you?”

“Yes.” Richie mumbled, and this time he sounded desperate. He sat up, and turned around.  

It could be argued that Richie had the nicest hair out of all the losers. Ben always thought Beverly had the nicest hair. But Richie always had thick, long curls, and now they were thrown carelessly around his shoulders, and down his back.  

Ben had forgotten about aging, to a degree. The kids aged – had aged, greatly so, after the past five years – but Beverly was evergreen. Timeless. She hadn’t seemed to age a day since they got married. Ben felt still and calm with her, since the day they got married, she was dazzling and beautiful, he felt like their first dance had never really stopped.  

If he thought about it too long, he’d zone out entirely, disappearing into the memory of his shoes tapping the aged wood floor, Beverly’s warm, soft hands in his as her fantastical wedding dress swings around the room. She laughs as Heaven by Bryan Adams fills the air...

Ben takes a second to blink. He’s not at his wedding right now. He's been married for 13 years. He needs to focus on the now. He needs to focus on Richie – who he hasn’t seen in nearly four years and was kind of thought to be dead by now, which, yikes, but given Richie’s history, wasn’t really too harsh of a judgement, – who was sitting on his couch, shaken and bleeding and probably scared as hell.  

Richie had clearly aged. His hair was longer yes, but he looked like he’s had a hangover for decades. His eyes looked heavy and sunken. He had dropped weight – too much weight to be healthy – and there were sliver strands appearing at his roots. He looked old. He looked sick.

Around his middle was a poorly put-on gauze bandage. On his side was a big red blotch. Not quite bleeding through, but Ben was willing to bet there was scuffs of red on his nice couch.  

“What did you do?” Beverly asked, picking his shirt off the arm of the couch.

“Some teenagers decided to pick a fight.” Richie told her.

“You were mugged?” Ben’s eyes popped open and his head bowed down from his shoulders.

“Lightly mugged.” Richie corrected. “Wasn’t even that bad. They didn’t even shank me.”  

“Then what’s this?” Beverly said, putting her finger tips on the red splotched bandage. Richie didn’t flinch.  

Richie squinted. He didn’t have his glasses on, so he looked like he was trying to read invisible words.

“Mild laceration.” He decided, after some thought.  

“Do you need medical assistance?” Ben’s words felt soured, somehow. Maybe because driving Richie to the hospital for a god damn stab wound wasn’t what Ben wanted to do at 9:23am on a Saturday.

Richie hung his head and stared at his middle. He gently pulled at the bandage to see under it. His eyebrows went up, a little bit. “I think I’m good.”  

Ben rolled his eyes, and then looked at Beverly. She looked concerned. Far more concerned then Ben felt. She always was more forgiving for Richie’s strange, god-testing nature. He was like a cockroach, incapable of being damaged but begging to be squished.  

Ben knew he was being too harsh. He loved Richie like a brother. An estranged, weird, alcoholic older brother. And Ben would be able to save his resentment for Richie until after he knew Richie wouldn’t get an infection and die on the couch like a bug that is not a cockroach.  

He turned to speak down the hallway:  

“Elieen, can you bring me the first aid kit from the hall closet please?”

Richie buttoned up his shirt quietly. The wound wasn’t nearly as bad as it looked, and they were all surprised to see it when it was cleaned up. It looked a little bad, yeah, but nowhere near fatal.  

Richie had hung his hair up in a ponytail, lose, long bangs over his tired face. The longer Ben stared at him the more conflicted he felt. He wanted to be mad at Richie, wanted to resent him. But he knew Richie would only drop in like this if there was some deeply, deeply wrong.  

Beverly set a tray holding three mugs in front of them at the breakfast bar, resigning to making Richie something to eat while Ben cleaned him up. Richie scarfed down the pancakes, but now he only gingerly took the coffee mug and swirled it around, staring at it like it was going to help him.

“So,” Beverly gave him an expecting look. “What happened?”

Richie gave her an expecting look back. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you here, Rich. We haven’t heard from you in a hot while.”

Richie shrugged, and flashed his eyes a little. The scars in his irises made Ben’s heart hurt. “I’m not allowed to spend my sober-versary with my two sexy best friends?” He plastered a grin onto his face, cheesy and face. “Hah? No?”

“You’ve been sober for a year?” Beverly tilted her head, trying not to sound too doubtful.  

“Yeah,” Richie sighed, dropping his cheesy grin and looking somberly down back to his coffee. “I was shocked too. It’s a big deal, I guess. It doesn’t feel like it though. Overshadowed by all the other anniversaries this time of year.”

Oh. Ben realized, and it hung there, unforgiving and deep.  

“It’s been five years.” Richie whispered. “Five years and he’s still gone. Seven years and Stan’s still mad at me. 12 years I’ve not been allowed to meet my god-daughter. 27 years and I still wake up in the night thinking a spear has gone through my skull.” he met Ben’s eyes. “What a world I’m living in.”  

“So what led you here?” Ben asked, now genuinely curious, and eager to push the conversation more comfortable; even though he knew it wouldn’t get there anytime soon.  

Richie hung his head, this time not for comedy or drama – Ben knew this time it was shame, and when his chin lifted back up, his eyes were dead, and watery.  

“I didn’t think I’d survive this year if I were alone.” Richie admitted. “And I wanted to believe there would be people wanting to help me stay.”  

Beverly and Ben looked at each other again, Ben wanted to get up and hold her, make her feel better and safer and to ask Richie to leave and take care of himself somewhere else but instead he got up and wrapped his arms around Richie.

It wasn’t reflective of how he felt. He was upset with Richie. He had seen how Richie could get when he was at lows like this. He could get angry – almost violently so – and often dangerous. Ben had a family. He had kids. He wasn’t going to let Richie get away with that again. But...

But Richie was still his friend, and he still deserved comfort.  

Richie sunk into Ben’s arms, tensing and relaxing and tensing and relaxing and desperate and hesitant and for the first time Ben stopped thinking about how Richie had hurt Ben, and instead considered if Richie had hurt himself.  

“You can stay with us Rich.” Beverly supplied, and Ben nodded in agreement. “As long as you keep your shirt on and you talk to us.”  

“I’m better.” Richie said wetly. “I’m trying really hard to be better, I promise I won’t ever – I won’t - I-I'm sorry-”

And then Richie broke down crying. His body jolted and shook, and while Ben couldn’t feel the tears through his hoodie, he knew they were there. Ben sunk down, holding Richie gently and bringing his chin to Richie’s shoulder. Beverly was behind him, her hands on Richie’s back, rubbing up and down slowly. She and Ben stared at each other for a while. Richie continued to choke out “I’m sorry”s and “I’ll be better”s and other sad, lonely phrases at were making Ben’s heart crack and pop.

Richie was never known to cry for long, but when he finally pulled back from Ben, the bags under his eyes were swollen and pink. “I’m sorry.” he mumbled, sucking in a gulp of air. “I gotta pull back.”  

“No no no,” Ben hushed, keeping his hands on Richie’s shoulders. Beverly had disappeared into the hallway to tell the kids they had an uncle who was going to be staying with them. Ben was never the most emotionally intelligent, but he figured he could handle this. “It’s okay Rich. You don’t have to pull back anything. We’re here for you. You need some comfort, a-and safety, and Bev and I are happy to provide.”

“You’re not mad?” Richie’s voice came out like a whisper, the look in his eyes made him look like a scared child.

“Do you want me to be mad?” And with Richie’s sudden childlike nature, Ben put on his Dad voice.

“I just don’t want the anger to be a surprise later.”  

Ben nodded. He understood. He sat up and took a deep breath.

“Okay.” He closed his eyes. He had to be thoughtful about this. Richie’s gaze slowly burned into him. He chose every word slowly and deliberately. “I... What you did to Bev and I was... traumatic. It was dangerous, and inexcusable. I know... Why you did...what you did. And I’m willing to accept that you weren't in any stable state of mind when you did it. But you still did it. And... mental health... mental illness... that’s an explanation. Not an excuse. And I will not let it happen again. In any form or fashion. I... I know you’re better. Getting better. Have gotten better. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t getting better. You’re still struggling, but you’re reaching out – looking for people who will help you, and that’s... that’s amazing. I’m really proud of you. And I know this isn’t easy. You’ve been through a lot of intense... hardships. And I’m both very proud and happy that you’re still with us. I’m, of course, open and ready to help you grow and get better from here. You deserve that much. I know you would do the same for me. I’m willing to... look past your... behavior. What you’ve done. But I will not, will not forget what you’re capable of. I’ll help you for sure. Same with Bev. But I will keep an eye on you. And if I decide that you pose a threat to my family – my wife, my kids? I will fucking kill you.”

Ben’s eyes had gone dark and his hands had dropped from Richie’s shoulder down in his own lap. His body language was mostly calm, but seeing a stormy rumble in Ben’s eyes gave Richie the shivers. Hot damn he forgot how scary Ben could be.  

(Though this should not be a surprise to Richie, Ben is 6’3” and 250 lbs of muscle and fatherly love. He could snap Richie in half.)

Richie nodded when he realized Ben was done. He almost wanted to say yes sir like he was talking to a drill sergeant or something but then he’d pop a boner and he’s learned over the decades of knowing Ben that boners made Ben uncomfortable, so he just nodded.  

Ben took a deep breath. “I’m not...” He stopped and tilted his head, like some ghost behind him was whispering the words. “I know you’re doing better. And I need you to understand I don’t expect you to get like you were that night. I know you better than that now.”  

Richie nodded again, this time more earnestly.

Ben smiled; it made his entire presence feel warmer. Damn these kids have a good dad.

“Thanks man,” Richie’s throat felt destroyed. “For being honest and shit with me. Needed a good slap on the wrists.”

Ben made an undecipherable face. “No, no you didn’t. C’mere.” And they hugged again.  

“We have a guest room, it’s all yours. The house wakes up at around seven, every morning, and the kids are all in bed by ten at night, just so you know.” he went on, and his voice went softer the longer he spoke. Richie could almost throw up with how sweet it was, how much Ben adored his kids.  

Richie rubbed his eyes and face. “I have so many damn birthdays and shit to make up for.” he sighed. “I gotta take those little bastards shopping I think.”

“Maybe you could reel the language in, Rich?” Ben asked politely, and Richie nodded, mumbling a soft ‘sorry’ before Ben pointed behind him. “You never know when you have an audience.”

Richie looked over his shoulder, and Bev had reappeared with three little gremlins (Or, “children” as Richie was told they were called).  

“This is your uncle Richie.”

Oh my cock coming christ I’m their uncle Richie.

Richie smiled, really big, toothy, genuine smile, for the first time in a while. The three of the looked uncomfortable, but curious.  

The smallest of the three, the one who had that soft ass purple blanket Richie took earlier, stomped forward and pointed his little sausage fist at Richie with rage. “Don’t touch my blanket! It’s mine and you’re not allowed to steal!”

Richie nodded. Those are some solid terms. Motherfucker knows how to tell someone off. “You’re right. I’m very sorry, it was wrong of me to steal from you, I will never do it again. I promise.” And Richie put his hand out to shake.  

The Kid gave Richie a suspicious glare, and then shook his hand – oh my god his little hand he’s so small what a little dude what the fuck - carefully, like he had just bet the house on the ponies. He was the smallest alright, with a pair of big chaotic eyes. Richie could tell he was the one who steals from the cookie jar.

“My name is JJ. I am the... Th-the brains of the operation.” JJ said, like he was some war boss and not a nine-year-old. “These are my siblings-”

“Eliott.” the middle kid who looked so much like Ben Richie thought he was going to have to lay down. It was like he was back in 1989, that summer when they all met, if Ben had dropped 60 lbs at random. He had the same round face, brown eyes and mousy brown hair. He looked bored out of his damn mind. Richie figured he didn’t need to steal from the cookie jar. Eliott had a secret stash or something. “Hi.”  

“Man of few words, I respect that.” Richie nodded, saying nothing more before he started called the poor kid ‘haystack’.

JJ was still holding onto Richie’s hand. His palm was bigger than the kid's entire outstretched hand. “That’s Elieen. She’s gross and twelve.”

Elieen, who looked like Beverly but with long hair, longer than Bev’s ever was, well kept bangs and brown eyes, made the most teenage face as she rolled her eyes and tried to turn on her heels to go back down the hall, presumably to her room. Beverly stopped her and said, quietly but with a firm tone: Say hi, please. Just say hello.

“Hi. I like your tattoos. I’m not gross.” She said sharply, with a little head twitch and a wave of her fingers.  

Richie looked down to his fingers as he said “Oh thank you, I don’t know how they got there.” He had become so desensitized to his tattoos he only really recognized them when someone brought them up. Normally this was limited to children, punk teenagers and really angry catholic grandmas. “I didn’t think you were; Little Man doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

JJ scrunched his tiny face together. “Yes I do!”

“No one under four feet tall knows what they’re talking about.” Richie told him. Ben snorted and then repressed laughter behind him. “It’s a fact of life.”  

JJ didn’t look convinced until Richie said fact of life. Then he dropped everything and started to really think about it. He looked at Bev, and then at Ben (who was still trying to not laugh) and then to the floor.

“Maybe. I think I'm more than four feet tall.”  

Richie wanted to say “maybe” in that ambivalent tone you give kids when they say absolutely anything, but Eliott, without missing a beat, said: “You'd be wrong.”  

“Cold-blooded.” Richie said to Beverly, smiled and ran her nails over Eliotts scalp. Eliott blinked harshly and shivered.  

These kids... Richie liked these kids.

“Uncle Richie, shall I show you to your room?” Ben said, probably using his Dad Senses to know the kids were done with their introductions.

“Sure thing.” Richie looked down to JJ, who was now very interested in the circuits tattooed onto Richie’s fingers. “Thanks for the introduction Little Man. Bring it in.” He stood up off the breakfast bar and brought his other hand out to a fist for, as the kids bluntly say, a fist bump.

JJ scurried almost, staring up at Richie and it seemed like he was realizing for the first time that Richie was an adult, who was 6’4 and covered neck to waist in tattoos, had long curly hair and two very pierced ears. Richie thought he realized this because he jumped once and said, loudly: “You look like a Rockstar!”

“Rockstar?! Where?!” Richie yelped, faking panic, and JJ dissolved into a fit of giggles. JJ gave Richie a fist bump and continued to grin wildly. His hair was brown, like his dads, but it was bushy and wild curly like his moms. He had the big contagious grin Bev had too.

Richie smiled at Elieen, who was going that dumb young teenager thing of trying to look cool by pretending you don’t think anything is funny, and pointed a finger gun at Eliott, who looked like he actually didn’t think anything was funny, and with a totally straight face, did a finger gun back.  

The guest room was nice. Like, hotel nice. A nice tall lamp, a shrimpy, empty desk, a nice big queen-sized bed, with a ton of drawers and shelves in and around the frame, which really drew away from the fact that the room was otherwise empty, quiet, kind of sad and there were no sheets on the mattress.  

Ben opened up the blue blackout curtains and the whole room felt a lot nicer. “I’ll get some sheets and make the bed for you, so you have some blankets and stuff.”  

“No way man I’ll just use Elliot. He’s stiff as a board. Just make him plank all night.”

Ben smiled at that but shook his head. “You’ll just have to make due with blankets.”

“What about all three of them? They can rotate through the night.” Richie called after Ben as he left the room. “They can- They can take shifts!”

Richie laughed to himself and took a breath in the dusty, lonely little guest room outside Chicago Illinois. One week ago, if you had asked him where he thought he’d be a week from then he would’ve said dead or sleeping or in an alleyway, dying. But instead, he was states away from home, in a well-lit guest room, alive. Sober.  

He shuddered and turned around, to see a wide eyed Elieen in the door way, holding his bag in her arms. Richie took it from her and without really thinking about it said “Thanks Chica.” and then stopped abruptly.  

When they were kids, and first becoming friends, Richie tried an array of nicknames on Beverly, and every time he gave her a new one, it made her skittish. Every member of Bev’s bloodline Rich had met (That being two of them, Beverly Marsh and Al “Asshole” Marsh) were standoffish as hell. The last thing Richie wanted was to freak out the 12-year-old as a weird, nickname giving 40-year-old show pig.  

But Elieen just broke into a semi-shy grin that reminded Richie of smoke breaks and scrunched up her nose with a tilt of her head. Her hair swayed to the side.

“Chica?” She asked. “Is that Spanish or something?”

Richie felt a wave of relief. “Yeah it’s just Spanish for girl. Nothing fancy. You gotta earn fancy nicknames.”

Elieen leaned pressed her back to the doorframe and watched Richie open his duffle bag on the bed, tossing out the vitals: phone chargers, notebooks, laptop. “What are my parent’s fancy nicknames?”

“Your mom used to be Chica, when we were kids.” Richie said, and heard the fondness in his voice. “When we didn’t know each other that well. Nowadays, she’s Poppet, or Red. And your dad is Haystack, or Benvolio.”  

“Benvolio?” Elieen mumbled, clearly trying to figure it out. “Poppet- Do you mean poppy? Like the flower?”  

“No, I mean Poppet.” Richie promised, with no further explaination. He plugged his phone charger into the wall.  

Elieen let out a half-chuckle. “You’re weird.”

Richie swung around from where he was facing the wall. “Yeah I am!”

Elieen made a fun face and wandered back down the hallway. Richie heard her relay the conversation to someone in the living room.  

Richie sat on the bed. He let out a long sigh. Then he smiled again. Genuinely. The longer he was in the room the less it felt like a hotel. Outside the doorway, he could hear the rest of the house in motion. It was barely 11am. JJ saying “I want pancakes!” despite him having breakfast not half an hour ago. Eliott explaining Benvolio to Eileen and Ben correcting him. The sound of a washing machine rumbling through the walls. Beverly was using a sewing machine across the hall in her office.  

At home, Richie’s house was very quiet. His hobbies needed headphones, and he didn’t know his neighbors. He had lived alone for five years, at that point. Being in a family house felt... nostalgic.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture the last get-together the losers had, all seven of them in one place. It was Halloween, 2008. Richie was Elvis Presley, Bev was an 80s workout teacher, Ben was a candy monster (he glued a bunch of gross kinds of candy to a black sweater and wore it under a brown jacket with a witch hat – apparently it's from a cartoon), Bill didn’t dress up, he never did, Mike went as Bill, Stan was a cockatoo (He had an amazing costume, always did) and Eddie-

The thought of Eddie threw Richie’s smile off-kilter. That year Eddie was... a stereotype. He went as a stereotype. He had a bowtie and his hair combed back and suspenders and khakis and spent the whole night talking in a weird, high-tone sassy way, with his hand on his hip and a cheesy fake grin on his face.  

He always did weird costumes like that. He would go as “the scariest thing you could imagine” and show up as tax paperwork. He would go as “a hideous monster” and tape a mirror to his shirt. Dumb, easy stuff like that. It made Richie so happy to see him do that because it upset everyone to see him in a costume like that (he would go as “Late” and show up ready to hit the fucking Beach) but Richie knew Eddie looked forward to it every year.  

Richie missed him. So much.  

But he wanted to believe Eddie wouldn’t want him to be miserable. With or without Eddie around, Richie knew he had to fix his mood. He wanted his second year of sobriety to kick off with a bang. Reuniting with Ben and Bev and meeting their kids was step one. Step two...

There was someone Richie pissed off a long time ago. Someone Richie would give his entire right leg to see again.  

He wondered, for a second, if Stan even wanted to see him.

Ah, of course he does, that crazy bastard. Can’t dress up as a cockatoo and expect Richie Tozier not to show up at your door step. Stan has Richie’s god daughter for Christ sakes. Can’t keep him from her for long. And he can’t kiss Patty from this far away!

Richie nodded to himself. He would fix what he had broken with Stan. After that? Who knows? Maybe he’d convince the kids to take up planking.

[kbstories]

Ontological

on·to·log·i·cal (adj.) Existing as such; metaphysical.

Eustass Kidd and Killer, during and afterwards.

(Or: Killer is healed and they kiss a lot.)

Tags: Established Relationship, Aftermath of Violence, Recovery, The “Comfort” Part of Hurt/Comfort

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Post-Wano setting. Content warning for dangerous levels of fluff.

***

Light falls on him, gentle, crawls up his shoulder, his neck. The touch of weightless warmth over fluttering lashes, pooling around closed lids clenching tighter against its orange glow; iridescent spots, shifting, dancing.

A tired groan. Kidd burrows deeper into the crease of his elbow, into that tentative darkness that comes with the scent of his own skin and sweat.

He drifts. Dreams, perhaps, of explosions booming in the distance and bones snapping under fists made of scrap. Of snakes with eight heads and unbreakable blue scales and the ground under his feet, soaked in blood–

Remembers, in sharp detail, a room tinged blue and Killer’s hand in his, crushing, crushing. Screaming gone hoarse until vocal cords give entirely and Trafalgar Law’s face, pale and slick with effort, straining–

There are fingers in his hair. Careful, soothing, four points of pressure tracing and re-tracing the same path. Soft breathing.

“Sleep”, a raspy voice mumbles. Kidd sleeps.

*

Killer.

That’s the first thing Kidd thinks, the only thing. Killer, Killer, eyes suddenly open wide and searching, where is Killer, is he–

Blonde hair, mussed and bunched up and everywhere, spilling across messy sheets like spun gold. Half-lidded eyes surrounded by deep shadows but shining, on him. Thin lips smudged in faded red and he’s not–

Kidd rasps, “Killer”, reaches for him – right here, he’s right here – and under the tender press of his thumb on the corner of his mouth Killer smiles, just a little, tentative and shy like he’s always done when it’s the two of them and nobody else. “It worked? Are you…?”

“Yeah, think so”, he tells Kidd, whispers it against his palm and Killer sounds so worn out Kidd’s heart aches for him. “You okay?”

And it makes him laugh, laugh until the sting of tears threatens to overwhelm him. “You don’t get to ask me that.” There’s drowsy concern in Killer’s gaze and Kidd shakes his head. “Baby, ’m fine. More than fine, believe me.”

Killer huffs, that little line between his brows showing up and oh, Kidd loves him. Tangles his fingers in Killer’s hair just to feel those soft strands catch on the roughness of his hand, skin cracked and bruised.

“Fuck. It’s good to see you, K, c’mere.”

Yet Kidd doesn’t pull, merely holds Killer close until he can haul himself there and kiss him – once, twice, the simple press of lips against lips. Killer makes a noise, demanding despite how weak it is. Kidd is dragged closer by his hair and he grins even when everything blurs and he tears up for good.

Blood and salt and stale breath on Kidd’s tongue and he wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. Fuck One Piece, fuck anything that isn’t the sound of his name coming out of Killer’s mouth like he can’t help it, like it hurts not to say it.

Killer’s crying. He’s crying because he can and Kidd would’ve never thought that would make him as happy as it does.

It worked. It fucking worked.

Their noses brush as they come up for air. Kidd is so relieved he’s gasping, shaking apart with the things he let happen to Killer, his best friend, his partner. Agony given words and expression (“I almost lost you, K, I almost f-fucking lost–”) and still he can’t stop. Fleeting kisses to Killer’s chin and his cupid’s bow and where tears spill to the side, the hint of crow’s feet there that Kidd adores. “I’m so glad. I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“Kidd.”

Killer’s hands are gentle where they cup Kidd’s face, trembling. “Kidd”, he repeats and Kidd curls into that touch. Lets Killer’s voice wash over him, the words that take shape against the curve of his jaw. “Breathe, love. You didn’t lose anything. I’m here. I’m with you.”

Kidd sniffs sharply. “I know, just…” The nook of Killer’s neck is right there; Kidd pushes his face in there, shifting so his temple rests against the rhythm of Killer’s pulse, growing calmer. “I know.”

Snot dribbles from Kidd’s nose to Killer’s shirt and it only adds to how head-to-toe disgusting they are, covered in days-old grime and dried blood and whatever else they dragged off the battlefield. There’s a wound or three protesting the position, the scars on Kidd’s bare shoulder red and raw against the sheets.

Kidd couldn’t care less. His arm digs under Killer’s bulk and pulls him closer, chest to chest and hearts beating as one.

“You’re crushing me”, Killer mutters and does absolutely nothing to change it. Just puts one hand across the nape of Kidd’s neck and the other back in his hair, pushing the slick spikes to lie as close to flat as they can get (which is barely).

They stay there, sprawled and starting to sweat in the morning light conquering more and more of the room. “We owe Trafalgar big time”, Kidd says eventually, too drained to sound anything but grateful about it. He shifts against Killer, pillowing his cheek on his pec with a low grunt.

“Him and that reindeer guy. Don’t ask me what exactly they did but they said they got it all out. All side-effects reversed. Strawhat’s holding off on the party until they got through all the others. The, um. The little girl, too.”

Killer hums. “…I don’t remember much. Do I wanna know?”

“No. Hell no.” Kidd shudders, pushes the memories far, far down. His fingers throb with it, regardless: The bruises stopped swelling, at least. “Never eat a Devil Fruit again, ‘kay? They taste shit. You love to swim. We can’t both be hammers. Lots of reasons not to.”

A sigh. “Kidd–”

“I know but fuck that. Not worth it. Got it?”

All Killer gives him is an indistinct “Mh”, which is fine. There’s no way in hell anyone’s ever getting to him like that, not without going through Kidd first and there goes Killer’s reason for throwing away his life like that.

Boom, problem solved.

That thought rattles around in Kidd’s brain for some time, that and all the other crap he chucked aside to keep himself together. Kidd’s pretty sure he’ll never hear the exact circumstances of this particular shitshow – Killer can be bullheaded as hell if he wants to. In the end, knowing or not knowing won’t change what matters.

Kidd trusts Killer. With his life, and everything else.

With Killer’s heart thumping steady as ever under his ear, the pain is easier to bear. Easier to let go of, body moving with every inhale and exhale Killer breathes, slow and deep. His fingers stopped moving a while ago, only loosely cupping Kidd’s head now.

Kidd glances up to see Killer’s face gone slack in his sleep. It softens something inside him, something that makes him want to etch this exact moment into his mind so he never forgets it: Blonde lashes fanning delicately across the cusp of Killer’s cheeks; the miniscule scrunch to his nose where a wayward strand of hair is tickling him.

It’s a bit of a struggle to get his arm out from underneath Killer’s back to tuck it away but Kidd manages. Brushes the tips of his fingers along his jaw, afterwards, until Killer mumbles vague nothings and drops off to proper slumber.

The arch of Killer’s mouth settles as it should, marginally sloped downwards, lacking any tension.

Kidd huffs, quiet and fond. He gets comfortable, claiming the space along Killer’s side and nudging his arm in a better position to put his head on it. Killer is warm, all solid muscle and soft skin.

Kidd is all too happy to melt into that. It’s gotten kinda hard to catch some rest any other way.

Wire by wire, the knot in Kidd’s chest loosens. The constant worry, the sheer hopelessness of a future where something as simple as this would be rendered meaningless – “I missed you, y’know”, Kidd tells Killer, low enough that Killer’s breathing drowns out most of it.

They sleep.

*

By the time Heat pokes their head into the room and spots them, the pile of blankets and limbs that are Kidd and Killer are snoring loud enough to rouse the dead and then some. Completely passed out.

Heat sighs. Strawhat’s banquet will have to wait a little bit longer, then.