#inspired by last week's doctor's appointment

[xerox-candybar]

Writing Homework for this week: write a (parody) commercial.

I wrote about the medical benefits of Screaming Into a Pillow.

[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

SUMMARY: Life was easy until you meet the eye candy of your life and the adventure with him is a hell of ride, but there is certain someone who seems to get hurt in this.

PAIRINGS: Gynecologist Jungkook X reader ft. bartender yoongi

WORD COUNT: 1.2K

A/N: lol I see no one wants to get tagged in this when I posted the snippet but anyway the tag list is open, and please guys don't let this flop; [ I worked really hard to get motivated enough and write, and this a series and this the first part.✨smut will be there eventually ✨

Note : this is inspired by a web series and I’m GONNA EDIT IT , I’m not gonna make it a whole ass 3 season containing 10-12 episodes per season and I felt like I could do something with this series. Thankyou

Your surroundings suddenly felt hot, the interns did a great job explaining the project to the clients sitting in front of you. The air conditioner did a shit job of keeping the surroundings but it's just you because you see your other intern rubbing her palms under the table.

The meeting was about to end and just when you were about to get up from the chair to leave the hall, the intern called out your name just so you could brief out the entire thing and thank the clients, grabbing on the metal stick you stand in the place where your intern was speaking.

"I hereby extensively elaborate on the profile success of our company, we all can see the numbers of shares growing quickly, see for yourselves" You point to the whiteboard where the graph was made, your company making progress in these past years.

"We can be a great profit for the leading country, sir, I hope you can see the numbers growing live" You then point to the laptop which has a live count of people buying the shares from the company, in the middle while everyone was focused you undo some of the buttons of your red satin shirt and mutter about the poor air conditioner "why am I so damn hot?"

Just when you were about to continue you see Mr. Jeon sitting on one of the chairs that too naked, just in his Calvin Klein boxers, what the fuck? "Yes Ms. Kim, why are you so damn hot?" Jungkook says he rises from his seat climbs over the desk and walks towards you.

you can see the client in shock and eye him, while he climbs down from the table your doctor "Mr. Jeon" is in front of you, his eight packs abs and muscular biceps all out to see, just when you are registering about his details, he picks up the glass of water on the table and drops it all over the neck and you hiss at the cold feeling.

Jungkook scurries the files away from the table and picks you up so you can sit on the table, your shirt is then unbuttoned by him, and he lays soft kisses and slowly bends you down completely until your back is pressed on the table.

Beep beep beep

A loud beep of your alarm drags you out of the dream and you gasp and sit up "fuck did I just have a wet dream about my doctor?" you mutter and grab your phone to off the alarm, you check the number of notifications you had overnight and stumble upon the "doctor's appointment" reminder.

Gasping for the second time now you scurry away from the bed to get a nice warm shower and head to the mister ever so sexy man your doctor "Jeon Jungkook".

"It's itchy lately, hasn't got better since last week" You talk to the man who is between your legs while you keep trying to not moan while checking your vagina. "You may get dressed now and it looks completely fine, and I can't see any infection" Jungkook says and stands straight and moves to his chair right behind the desk giving you some space so you can change.

closing the blinds and getting dressed you place the hospital gown tidily in the basket and move to his table, you grab on the sanitizer which is on his table pump a few drops on yours and apply it while your doctor writes down the prescription.

You notice the hot features of a sleeve tattoo of his you saw on his Instagram when you stalked him on the first day of meeting him, the depth of his gaze looked enchanting, and the afternoon sunlight complimented his skin tone well while you were busy studying his features a small cough brings you out of the daydream.

"Here miss y/n" The doctor hands you the prescription and you widen your eyes seeing at the statement which had written "bath three times a day" You eye him and check yourself by smelling when he isn't looking, and you smell perfectly fine because you sprayed almost the bottle of the perfume and bathed with the new soap bar you bought recently. Giving him a crooked smile you leave the room embarrassed.

Crumbling the paper you place it in your purse and straight away call your best friends to meet up for a brunch and she gladly accepts.

"No, but like seriously y/n" Chae and Yuna both seem shocked and confused and you appear to be more embarrassed "Yeah, he wrote that in the prescription" You show her the paper Jungkook gave you, and she says he wrote it so that you could maintain a proper hygiene and you buy it and proceed to eat your brunch in the cafe.

"Chae Yuna, you can go ahead I'm staying back so I can spend some time with Yoongi, I haven't been catching up on him." Tell her you give her a hug and a kiss on the cheeks, and you part ways.

You head to the bar where yoongi works as a bartender and you make sure to buy his favorite chocolate on your way, you reach there in less than five minutes and there you see Yoongi arranging the glasses in line just to make them fancier.

"Hey, how are you?" Yoongi is slightly confused to see you in the middle of the day and that too a weekday, you chuckle at him, and you tell him you are fine, and you had to meet a friend and not tell him the details about the meeting with the doctor.

"You up for a drink y/n?" The sweet boy asks you and you gladly accept it, looking here and there you realize he is working alone and his intern who never fails to hit on Chae is missing.

"Is Taehyung not here?" you ask him, and he says he had ditched today just because he had an early date and will be here for the night shift nodding you accept his famous highball, "you want any help? I'm free for the day" you offer him, and he casually refuses, and you become a bit sad, but you play it cool.

Yoongi looks at your features and chuckles and tells you he is just kidding and won't mind your help and he's rather happy you want to help him, before coming back to the other side of the table you hand him the chocolate you bought.

Helping him and chatting for a while you hug him and say goodbye, you notice a bit of blush creeping on his cheeks but you wave it up because it can be the alcohol you both drank, and you get back to your home and get a bit of rest so you can wake up fresh and get back on your work from home.

Taglist: @jungk97kwife, @kimmingyuswifee ,@kingofbodyrolls

A/n : this short but hehe more is yet to come 💖

[lexirosewrites]

Okay not slick Sunday related but you like angst and I got inspired. Sorry it ran away

So it's post s4, Eddie starts withdrawing. Steve thinks it's from the party in general, but it's just him. He's kind of hurt/insulted and decides after trying to reach out that if Eddie doesn't want to know Steve and all that if what he said in the UD was bs then he doesn't get to know him as a person, though it kind of hurts cause he has a small crush on Eddie. He’s bi, thought Robin and Eddie were aware at least even though they’ve never talked about it.

Well cut to him finding out that everyone else is hanging with them, inviting them separately to things until Steve find out that the party, including Robin went to go see a movie (the lost boys) and Steve was so excited to see it with Robin. (They do this as to keep the peace not malicious intent) So when she's not available Steve goes by himself to stare at the guys and ladies in the movie, except when he gets there he sees the whole party front row and it breaks everything he got left. He feels excluded, like everyone was kicking him out.

So Steve withdraws, the few calls that come he ignores, or he rejects offers to hang out. He starts switching shifts with Kieth and then just stops showing up and quits. I like to believe his mom is a good but misguided mom, so she's worried about her boy. She takes him to Indiana for a doctors appointment.

He goes on these meds to help with his depression episode, (I'm basing this off how my therapy worked) once a week he has to go to Indiana for therapy appointment. So on top of that, his mom starts to think maybe he’d be better off in a larger city, closer to his therapist, maybe find a school that she can persuade her husband to let Steve attend. She knows her husbands is just an attachment best that runs her parents company. She brings it up as softly as she can and Steve promises to think about it, give his friends the benefit of the doubt.

So it’s the end of summer, the kids are going back to school for the 1987-1988 school year, everyone is getting together before everyone goes to schools across the country, Steve decided to host the party. Robin is over the moon that her platonic soulmate seems back to his old self (once again basing this on my own history with antidepressants) if not more bubbly. His mother is there, tanning as all the kids play in the pool, keeping an eye on her boy.

It’s the happiest she’s seen him in the last few weeks, even though his bad days are still prominent. Alls good until Eddie and his Uncle show up, cause he had invited them, he was part of the party, but there was a lingering atmosphere about them. The kids and Eddie are splashing in the pool, Steve just withdraws watching them letting Robin do the rambling she does. She’s going on and on about stuff and starts a story where Eddie had taken her to Indiana to her first gay club and she got to kiss her first girl and she’s just so excited and happy and Steve is just frozen.

That’s what he was planning to do, help Robin meet her own community other than he and Eddie, to branch out. He’s happy for her she’s finally gotten a kiss, but she just gushing about how Eddie did this, Eddie did that, and some part of Steve’s brain just gave up. To him he was finally replaced in Robin’s life.

Without a word and shaking hands, Steve just walks to his mom and whispers that he wants to go to Indiana and start a new life. She just nods and walks him inside and away from others, of course Robin follows (I don’t know, maybe worried or angry that Steve just blew her off after ignoring her for so long). Either way, his mom lets him lay down in the downstairs guest room, away from prying eyes.

She’s already planning the move and her connections while shooing Robin outside. So plans are made, after the party, the week school starts there is a for sales sign and moving truck.

I feel like Dustin would be the one to find them on the way out, ready to tell Steve about his exciting first day as a sophomore. Steve just tells him that he’s gotta move on, that he’s just a phone call away. He’s all but begging Steve, asking who he’d spend time with and watch movies. Steve just tells him they can do that over the phone or he can get Eddie to hang out.

Steve leaves with his mom while Dustin goes and begs Eddie or the others to stop him from leaving. Of course no one knew and the only thing left was a note on the door to Eddie asking him to watch over the kids.

Steve lives better, going to school to be a teacher. He’s got an apartment that he lives in just off the school Campus. It’s been a few years, calls between the group and the kids are graduating. Of course Steve has to go back for graduation, he surprises them. Dustin refuses to not let him go and Robin and Eddie sit and catch up. He comes clean about how he felt pushed out and needed help to work through everything and once he finishes school he may come back.

Let’s just say when Steve talks to them about his last few relationships and they’re just shocked cause they had no idea that Steve was bi. Steve just plays it off that but admits that he had the tiniest crush on Eddie which makes him sputter and ask why he hadn’t said anything. Steve just says he knew Eddie didn’t like him so he wasn’t going to bring it up which leads to both talking out their misunderstandings and apologize.

Let’s just say if there’s a few trips to Indiana for Eddie in the future and then when Steve decides to go back home they become “roommates”

god i am such a sucker for steve suffering and thinking nobody loves him🥺 (don’t read too deeply into that)

[slay00ryu]

When the Devil is there for you.

_______________________

Trigger warnings:

- Depression

- Self harm mentions

- Self-destructive thoughts

- overall Ronin™ behaviour

_______________________

You are a clinically depressed person. It all came to light when you had your first psychiatrist appointment around two years ago. Since then everything started to make sense. Your thoughts, your laziness, your self harming behaviour just to quiet down everything in your head. From that point on there were only more, and more appointments with your doctor and therapy two times a week. At first it was quite difficult to get used to a new routine, waking up, eating, taking your antidepressants, working, and trying to live like a normal person. Like a healthy person, who didn't want to perish from this earthly vale.

Most of the time, you felt like a prisoner trapped in your own head, unable to live without some wacky therapist and medicine to keep you out of your bed. At least until one faithful day Ronin invited you to the server after your suspicions questions on dark web. The server gave you a will to live, the serial killers you now consider friends gave you so much energy and inspiration.

And Ronin, oh Ronin, the perfect devil, the most deranged and twisted man you have ever met. He makes your heartbeat get faster, your emotions and feelings get uncomfortably real and positive around this man. So it wasn't a shock when you fell for him and his twisted antics. He wanted to recreate you, he wanted what was good for you in his own twisted way. But you had no obligations against this, you would give up your already weak mind for this man and cut your own heart out if he told you to do so.

Unfortunately even the most positive feelings would be weak against your depression when you weren't be able to take your pills. Your psychiatrist was away from the country for a whole month, and this was your second week without your antidepressants. Every psychiatrist who you went to refused to prescribe anything for you, with the excuse of them not being your regular psychiatrist.

So now you are back to the starting point, basically rotting in bed. You can't remember the last time you showered, or ate something more than a random yoghurt you found in your fridge. Your whole room was a mess, just the mirror image of your mind. You were just too exhausted to even think about cleaning yourself or your room.

This state brought back many unpleasant memories. Your parents were in the middle of a divorce when it all started. Everyday you were woken up by constant arguments, your parents used you as a stress reliever, shouting at you and criticising your every mistake, even if it was something truly meaningless. On the days where they were quiet, they tried to act like picture perfect parents to get you on their good sides. Unfortunately their toxic and destructive behaviour already made you hate them and yourself.

Then after your family life, there were your so-called friends, they used you because you had great grades. But after you were failing some subjects because of your slowly growing depression, they all left you. You were alone, not a single person to consult. That added to the growing time bomb your mind was slowly becoming.

You didn't even realise it when one day after you came back from school and your parents were away, probably on some business trips or whatever. You used that single moment of solitude to listen to your thoughts and cut the flesh on your wrist open. There was blood in the sink, water turning red. There weren't many cuts, but they sure were deep and painful. That's when your self harming behaviours started. Whenever you were home alone you would hurt yourself to quiet down your mind.

No one ever saw the scars, no one heard your cries for help. You were all you had, sometimes you still feel like you're just utterly alone. Especially during a time like this. During a time when you have completely no energy to move a muscle unless you had to.

You weren't active on the server either. You just went offline one day and haven't gone online even once. You didn't know if anyone cared to check up on you, or if there was someone trying to reach out to you. You couldn't bring yourself to care either. You completely shut yourself from the world and hoped that this mess in your mind would go away on its own.

🥀

Ronin was in his room. He started to get too wounded by your two week absence. At first he thought that you had lots of work, or that you had just so much writing inspiration that you went completely zero contact. But days turned into two weeks and it seemed all too weird. He was almost convinced to go to your house, but even his twisted head thought of it as a bad idea.

At least until he received a DM from Angel.

Angelic: I think something's wrong with <user>.

Angelic: Even before they left they were acting a little bit different than usual.

Angelic: Can you idk... Just visit them? They're your partner Ronin, do something.

He read the messages and bit his lower lip. He wasn't the type of person to worry about someone, but when even Angel noticed that something had been seriously off with his Darlin', then who was he not to take matters in his own hands.

goreboy: I'll text If i know Somethin'.

goreboy: or I'll tell'em To Text you themselves.

He wrote the reply and stood up from his chair. He has someone to pay a visit to. Even if it meant breaking into their home.

Ronin was standing in front of your house, knocking on the door loud, basically banging at some point. He rolled his eyes and walked around the house, looking for a back door or an opened window. He knew that you were home, he could feel it, you were so close, yet so far. He found an opened window that led into your kitchen.

Ronin: Tsk, tsk, baby. You should keep your windows locked.

He chuckled to himself as he entered your house, closing the window behind himself.

Ronin walked quietly around your house, looking for you in every room. He finally reached your bedroom door and pushed the door open. The door creaked and so did the floor under Ronin's shoes. He scanned the room and then his eyes found you.

You looked like you just went to hell and back. His fallen angel really was falling, into a dark pit filled only with exhaustion. He suspected that you had some serious mental health issues, after all no one sane would stay on a serial killer server just for some book. But never in his right mind did you expect to see you like this.

To some you would look strange, disgusting even. He could tell that you didn't shower, or had a proper meal in a long time. This sight didn't scare him away, quite on the contrary. He finally saw your raw form, your true self. The true canvas he was working on for six whole months. You never looked more beautiful than when you looked up at him weak, exhausted and confused.

User: Ronin...? What are you doing here?

He watched as you slowly sat up and ran a hand through your definitely greasy hair. He walked up to you and sat down on the bed in front of you. He kissed the top of your head and cupped your face with his hands.

Ronin: Oh my little fallen angel, my divine darlin'. You can't just leave the devil waiting and not expect him to come and get you.

His hand went down to your throat. Holding you firmly as he brought his face down to your eye level. His gaze was wicked, but you could feel a tinge of care inside of those pitch black eyes.

Ronin: Tell me, what's been keeping you rotten in your bed.

User: I'm... A fucking mess Ronin. Life fucked with me like some cheep whore and now I can't even function without the regular pills.

You chuckled, but it was a bitter chuckle. Somehow his eyes were filled with even more devotion than ever before.

Ronin: Oh I love the sound of that, my fucked up baby. You're like a rotting corpse, a corpse I play with.

He brushed his mouth against yours, getting a surprised gasp in answer. His twisted love was somehow comforting to you, it gave you some ease to know that he loved you even in this state.

Ronin: If you have no reason to live, then obsess over me, breathe for me, write for me.

He paused and moved his face closer to your ear.

Ronin: If you need to take someone's life, then turn your suicidal thoughts into murdering motivation.

His words, so dark, crazy and fucked up. Yet to you they sounded like the sweetest love confession. He wanted you to live, and somehow it made you desire a life too. If you were supposed to live for something, then the Devil was a good enough reason.

User: Ronin... I need you. Please help me get back together. I'm a mess, I'm rotten, destroyed.

Ronin: Oh darling, your words are as sweet as poison. I just want to rip your ribcages out and reach your heart, crush it with my hands.

His mouth moved against the skin of your neck as he said those words. But then he moved away. You looked at him, standing in front of your bed. He reached his hand out for you, his gaze itself told you that there was care buried inside his words and movements. You took a hold of his outstretched hand and he immediately pulled you out of your bed.

Ronin: Let me take care of you Darlin', it's my job as your boyfriend, isn't it?

He held you by your hand, your body pressed against his. You could feel his scent, his comforting touch, it felt perfect even with that whole mess in your head. You gave him a nod in response. Even if you felt like you were ready to make him your sole reason to live, you were too exhausted to use your words.

Ronin picked you up, bridal style. Moved to your bathroom and placed you on the washing machine. Ronin turned on the tap to fill the bathtub. While the tub was being filled, Ronin helped you out of your clothes. It didn't feel perverted, or sexual. No. This contact felt pure, gentle. Ronin was careful not to startle you when he took off your clothes. Your bare skin shivered from how cold your bathroom was. Ronin helped you into the now filled bathtub, the hot skin made you relax.

Your partner knelt next to the tub, his hand reached for a body gel and a sponge. His movements gentle as he washed your back, shoulders and then... Hands. It wasn't inevitable, sooner or later Ronin would see the thick scars on your wrists, you felt your heartbeat stop. You couldn't expect anything from Ronin, so you didn't know how he would react. You averted your gaze, feeling ashamed of how disgusting your wrist must've looked for him.

To your surprise Ronin didn't ask, he didn't shout or make any disgusted remarks. You could feel his hot lips place gentle kisses on top of your scars. You looked at him in shock.

User: Ro... Ronin?

You asked, this unexpected behaviour made you tear up. His small kisses made you feel like something beautiful, something to worship, something worth his kisses. Ronin's thumb wiped some tears from your cheek.

Ronin: These scars, they're not ugly, they're not disgusting. They are proof of how life has fucked with you, but also they prove just how strong you are.

These exact words were something you needed to hear for a long time, especially after every single painful word you received for the scars. Your vision turned blurry and you were practically choking on your tears. This was a moment of true vulnerability, your poor mental health, combined with Ronin's words that hit just the right spots. You felt so many different things, you were afraid of accepting yourself with how you were, but also you felt relieved in a way. Ronin still loved you. Still had his eyes on you even with how your mental health issues completely ruled over your life.

He still showed you tenderness and care. He washed your body, kissed your forehead. He didn't turn his back on you not even once. Ronin wasn't ashamed to call you his partner, he still wanted to take care of you in his own way.

You looked at Ronin's face as he was busy drying your body with a towel. If he understood the things that went through your head so well, then... Did he also have similar thoughts in his head? He spoke about his past only a few times, and he always referred to his hometown as something he absolutely despised. You wanted to know what his whole story was about, but it wasn't the right time to ask. You were in no state or position to listen to Ronin's story about the mess inside of his head.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't realise that Ronin was asking you to lift one leg so he can dress you up. You felt strangely embarrassed. But not because of how he could see every part of your body, because you knew that he didn't care. It was because of being lost in thoughts about him, while he was right in front of you.

🥀

Some time passed, you two were sitting snuggled up in your living room. Your head calmed down, you finally felt at rest. For the first time in two weeks, your mind was quiet, there were no thoughts about killing yourself just to end this misery. There were no hateful memories, no shouting parents or abandoning from other people. There was just you, Ronin and the sounds of the outside world coming in through an open window.

Ronin: You should text the server, they're worried y'know.

You looked up at him. He was right, it wasn't okay to leave your friends without any signs from you. You bit the inside of your cheek. You had to text them, but what were you supposed to say? "Hey sorry I left, my depression is just too fucking strong?" You just didn't want to seem weak in front of other people, maybe Ronin accepted this side of you, but what about the others? Why would they accept you? Your head was starting to fill up with questions again, but Ronin's voice broke the growing turmoil in your head.

Ronin: Hey. You don't have to confess everything. I'll keep your secret, but at least tell them that you're okay..I don't want to watch my friends shitting themselves because my partner is missing.

He ruffled your freshly washed hair.

Ronin: And seriously. They will understand you, every single one of us was or is fucked by this world. You don't have to be scared of not being accepted. They are your friends, right? Why wouldn't they accept you in your worst times? We're fuckin' serial killers, I think that makes us worse than you.

You sighed and nuzzled your head against his chest, to hear the beating of his heart.

User: I...love you Ronin. Thank you for coming here.

Ronin: Love you too writer darlin'.

_______________________

Hello! Hello! I hope you liked it >:3

Sorry if I triggered or touched some uncomfortable thoughts or memories or feelings.

Be safe! <3

[factual-fantasy]

28 asks! Thanks yall! :)) 🦶

My last doctors appointment came up with nothing. Onto the next one in a few weeks...

Oh good idea-- :00

Dink already has a friend! His name is Doink! :)

@stupid-thatsme

I usually watch YouTube or listen to music while I draw. I feel like it helps me draw faster and keeps me focused somehow.. XDD And no one wants to be alone with their thoughts lets be real-

@coolguyinternet

<XD I'll have to think about that one-

1: I knew what was coming for me in Tales from Ba Sing Se. But it still hurt. :(((

1: At first I don't think I liked Mei very much <XDD But after seeing her turn around at the end of the show?? I really like her :))

There's a lot of moments that were sweet and sad. But Zuko's apology to Iroh, and Toph and Sokka's talk about Katara's motherly nature were amongst the sweetest. And Aang going avatar mode when loosing Appa and being comforted by Katara has to be the saddest I can remember.. 🥺🥺🥺

The ending overall just felt like it came too soon, I wish the show was longer..

@mrplants-world

You're gonna have to be a liiiitle more specific- 😅

(Aang holding Appa art in question)

Do people really ask that?? Man.. smh.. smh.. 😔😔

That sounds like something they'd do! :DD

:DDD Thank you! I'm glad you like my artwork!! :))))

@the-woomyverse

XDDD Oh man that's some fantastic angst potential

(Evil Grim and V post in question)

An asker in this post described what I imagine they'd be like really well! :00

And yes! The evil versions are all shiny but evil Anastasia (Kricketot) is normal colors XD

I didn't intend to have Miraidon around, no.. 😅

And I don't have the DLC, so I am unfamiliar with Ogerpon.. <:0

@necromicon42

The boo mushroom isn't intended to be in my AU.. but the boomerang and cloud flower could be included :00 I imagine they'd be/look a lot different though..

The boomerang flower might not be a full on powerup.. I might make it this big flower that once it grows its oddly shaped petals fall off and harden like wood. Leaving behind these perfect flat boomerangs. I can imagine Mario and Luigi just learning how to throw the boomerangs instead of absorbing a powerup. This would also explain how boomerang bros got their boomerangs. They throw the same dried up petals that the bros throw-

The cloud flower might just be changed into some king of... wispy thing and the bros can collect. Instead of a flower. Maybe a literal cloud? I'm not sure.. but I can see it existing :00

@spinelfan11

I believe so! XD Thank you! :)

(Refencing this post and this post)

<XD No one is safe from the bootleg curse!

<XD No no, my AU was made before the movie came out. Nothing from the movie applies to my AU- including the Vanessa daughter thing <XDD

Well lets see,

1: I think Gravity Falls and Pixars cars was very inspirational to me! :0

2: My favorite song changes from day to day,, but currently I really like Lights by Ellie Goulding! :))

3: When I understood it, I think I liked math! :))

4: And sorry! But drawing suggestions are now closed 😅

@anikakitty11

Shroomie!! :DDD

@untitled-7613

I wouldn't trust them personally- 😅😅

@khoiazo

XDD The only appropriate response to evil Grim and V honestly-

@xxanxious-anxietyxx

:000 WAIT REALLY??? THANKO YOU!! :DDD

@hope0koi

They doin good! I've been meaning to draw them more often <XDD

@minophlia

Ah man.. this is very bitter sweet. I'm glad you found me here and that you like what I make. But its also horrible to hear that you found me through stolen artwork that I worked so hard on..

@katpotato55 (In response to this post)

:DD THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :)))

@im-nice-but-i-dont-like-you

XDD Well hey it made me laugh too! Also thank you! :))

@ink-machine-kidd

I'm afraid I wouldn't know what to do for that..😅I'm not familiar with Digimon.. 🥺 Thank you for the suggestion though! :00

@agent-cakeshroom

XDD Thank you!! And yes! I DO love sky! :DD Been playing ever since season of dreams back in 2021 💪💪💪

[chris-prank]

What would the guys think of a darling with pretty severe eczema? 👀

OH MY GOD, I used to have severe eczema when I was in High school! So thank you anon for giving me a chance to heal my inner teenage self 😌

Also since eczema can be caused by different things, I tried my best to look for info on the internet  while still taking inspiration from my own experience 

CW: Yandere behaviors, implication of hurting people (not reader) 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

Vincent

🧪 At first he is going to think that your skin went in contact with some of the toxic chemicals laying around his lab… he is a scientist not a health doctor ok, so you’ll have to explain it to him. 

🧪 After he understands your situation, whatever is causing your eczema, he is going to find a way to treat it permanently! You don’t mind him sacrificing some test subjects, right? How about the guy that was rude to you last week? 

🧪 If he catches you mindlessly scratching at your skin too many times , he’s going to give you special mittens that can’t be taken off. He just can’t always keep an eye on you, so please don’t be mad at him for it. 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Esteban 

📈 Esteban is going to be very overbearing about it, like he’ll pester you everyday if you don’t take care of your skin condition. If you want him to shut up, you'll have to be diligent about doing your treatments, because if you hit him with the “You’re not my mom/dad” he’ll sulk until you apologize.

📈 If your eczema is on your arms or somewhere else that could be accidentally rubbed against while cuddling, Esteban will make it a point to wear clothes that won’t irritate your skin.

📈 (I don’t know if that would make things worse, so sorry in advance if yes) When you show skin, if it’s possible and makes you feel better, he’ll try to kiss where your eczema is. He just wants to show that he loves every part of you, no matter what. 

📈 Esteban hit me to be the type to have a small spray bottle filled with water, so every time he catches you scratching your skin he’ll spray you like a disobedient cat. 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Atlas

💿 Having been created to serve humans, he would instantly know how to treat your eczema and will make it his duty. So he’s going to give you all the tips possible to make it less severe. 

💿 He’ll still ask you to go see a professional though, if you didn’t already, and even go as far to book an appointment for you. 

💿 If you use corticosteroid ointment or a moisturizing cream, don’t even think about skipping these treatments. Atlas will literally set up internal alarms to notify when it's time for you to put some on and if you complain he'll just do it for you. 

💿 You’re going to feel like you have your own personal doctor, except that doctor lives with you 24/7 and is secretly obsessed with you. 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Martin 

🪓 Martin doesn’t know a lot about that skin condition, but if you want to, he is going to try to help you as best as he can.

🪓 First thing first, he’ll ask the elders if they have any recipe for homemade moisturizing cream or something similar and he’ll ask the town's doctor if he can be of any help.

🪓 Living in a post-apocalypse world makes access to certain treatments more difficult, but don’t worry he’ll go wherever and do whatever it takes to secure it for you. He needs to make a trip that will take him two weeks by foot? Consider it done.

🪓 He already observes you all the time, so he would make it a habit to gently take your hand in his when you scratch your skin or maybe just rub your back to signal to you that you are doing it.

[vorfreudevortex]

a portrait of us - nine

a nanami x reader smau

masterlist

warnings: angst lol, slow burn, swearing, a little ooc, a typo or two

notes: 1.6k words and i am only a little sorry

nanami kento had no idea what he what he was doing.

he was not the kind of man who pursued a woman from a relationship that had ended over a decade ago, nor the type to follow one who vanished without a goodbye and hadn’t spoken to him since. in truth, he wasn’t one to chase after any woman at all. his life allowed no time for such foolishness, and he had yet to meet anyone else worthy of that time.

he also wasn’t the type to deviate from his usual schedule and activities. for nanami, saturday evenings were reserved for a leisurely stroll through the park near his apartment, ending in a visit to the grocery store for fresh meat and produce. then, he’d return home to cook himself a hearty dinner, usually indulging in a favorite recipe but sometimes experimenting with a new one.

he’d relish his meal with a glass of expensive, but not too expensive, wine before indulging in a hot bath. his favorite ritual was finishing the bottle with a few chapters of a book while soaking in bath salts and lavender until the water turned cold.

if the book captivated him, he’d continue reading in bed; otherwise, he might watch a nostalgic movie in the living room. saturday nights were his sanctuary, a time to indulge in simple pleasures: fresh air, a home-cooked meal, wine, a book, and a restful night with no morning obligations.

that was absolutely not the case for nanami tonight.

he suspected he might be coming down with something, as he felt unusually off while scrutinizing his freshly trimmed hair in the mirror. this afternoon, he had an impulsive urge to tidy up his undercut and hairline. earlier that morning, he felt strangely compelled to invest in new clothing—a sage green linen blazer and ankle-length slacks, to be precise.

he donned his new outfit, carefully combing through his hair one last time. He wore his usual brown dress shoes, watch, and leather holster over his white shirt, carrying his blunt sword. nanami decided to forgo his beloved spotted necktie, instead folding it neatly into his blazer’s inner pocket, just in case. the outfit felt unfamiliar, and he wondered if the men in fashion magazines felt equally peculiar in such short pants.

nanami was now convinced he had caught a strange cold or flu. why was he wearing sage green? why had he purchased it, knowing he’d likely never wear it again? why was he grabbing a bouquet of sunflowers, your favorite, before locking the door and heading to his car? and although he loved art, why was he preparing to attend a sumptuous gallery opening, filled with wealthy patrons he didn’t want to be around?

as his trembling fingers unlocked the car door, he made a mental note to schedule a doctor’s appointment later in the week.

———

the director placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder as he handed you the microphone. over 250 hands applauded, but their sound was merely a distant murmur. you took a steadying breath as the applause faded and prepared to speak.

“i'd like to thank you all for attending my gallery tonight,” you began. “i never imagined my art would one day be in a museum gallery, and i'm incredibly grateful for this opportunity.”

as the audience applauded again, you searched for satoru, shoko, and the students. you finally spotted them in the middle of the crowd—shoko waved, satoru and yuji gave a thumbs-up, and the other students smiled warmly. you grinned in response, comforted by familiar faces among a sea of strangers.

“i've always gravitated toward modern pieces with bold traits and colors, but i also create works inspired by famous art. i love re-imagining poses, emotions, and other elements from those pieces to capture the redefined aura i perceive from them. i've never settled on a single style, so you’ll notice my art incorporates elements from neoclassicism to impressionism, all on one canvas.”

you silently scanned the audience, gauging their reactions. you noticed the woman from malaysia, with whom you’d spoken with earlier, listening intently with a gentle smile. nearby stood an older gentleman from london, whose questions about your work had left you unsure of his opinion. his bored expression unsettled you, but you took a deep breath and continued.

“um,” you paused. “i want to express my gratitude to all of you, the museum, its patrons, and the director, with a collection of pieces created especially for my first major gallery opening. these have never been seen before and are unlike anything i've ever done. they hold deep personal significance for me…"

you turned to join four staff members, each standing beside an easel draped in black cloth, and positioned yourself next to the largest one in the center. you nodded to them and began unveiling the canvases. gasps and murmurs from the crowd turned to smiles and applause, bringing relief. your eyes met satoru's once more. he stared back, sunglasses in hand, his bright blue eyes piercing into you, mouth hanging open.

the first painting depicted him.

reminiscent of michelangelo's david, your artwork portrayed satoru with rigid, alabaster skin. one hand held a galaxy of stars, while the other formed a circle with his thumb and middle finger connecting. at first glance, the background seemed a deep, black abyss, but closer inspection revealed the painstakingly small, barely perceptible eyes you had meticulously added with matte paint.

this symbolized satoru's unparalleled power in the universe, a singular masterpiece constantly revered yet scrutinized, along with his inability to move and act freely as he wished.

the second painting featured suguru.

inspired by caspar david friedrich's wanderer above the sea of fog, it depicted suguru, his jet-black hair blowing in the wind, standing on a cliff gazing out over a misty landscape of blurred, colorful spheres. it was the dead of night, with no stars, except for a small moon shaped like an eye with a blue iris. unlike the original, your painting allowed the viewer to see suguru beginning to step off the cliff with a relieved smile.

it symbolized suguru's internal struggle with purpose and responsibility, ultimately deciding to take control and let go, as you always knew he would.

the third painting portrayed shoko.

inspired by frida kahlo's the broken column, it depicted shoko with waist-length hair, her face turned skyward, tears streaming down her cheeks. her thin, frail body was torn in half by hands reaching into the frame, revealing her spine replaced by a large surgeon’s scalpel. the background featured a familiar, glowing, traditional japanese door, blurred by smoke.

this represented shock's duty to the jujutsu society, always giving but never taking, until all that remained were her tools and an unrepairable broken body.

the fourth painting was of yu.

you replaced the woman in lawrence alma-tadema's pandora, with the painting ending at the waist. his body was strong and flushed, gazing down at the box with a familiar smile and wide, curious eyes. instead of a floral crown, you encircled his head with a halo of stars, and the background depicted him resting in a serene, lush meadow.

you couldn’t resist creating a more joyful piece for him, symbolizing the grace of his death and much-needed rest while unknowingly wreaking havoc on those near him. only later did you realize the extent of the pain his peace would bring when you first painted the portrait.

the final and largest painting was a portrait you began shortly after leaving japan many years ago and only recently completed. it was inspired by frank bernard dicksee's la belle dame sans merci.

you and nanami.

you sat on a muscular, snowy white horse, anxious and impatient to move on. instead of a pink gown like the original, you wore navy with gold buttons on the chest, torn and splattered with bright crimson blood. your expression held a pained smile, tears streaming down your cheeks.

nanami stood on the ground beside you, one hand clutching your tattered gown, the other ensnared by blades of grass and flowers climbing his wrist and forearm. tears welled in his eyes, but his face remained blank and unreadable. he wore a suit of armor like the knight in the original, but it was dull, dark, and littered with dents, holes, and bloodstains.

this was your most prized work of art, embodying the unspoken goodbye between you and your first love. the anxious horse represented your urge to flee, while the tattered, bloodied gown symbolized the physical and mental toll of jujutsu. your expression showed the relief of leaving and the guilt of doing so. nanami's face masked his betrayal with stoicism, yet tears betrayed him to reveal his grief of losing yet another loved one. the flowers and grass symbolized his responsibilities in tokyo—the lives he needed to protect, the elders to please, and the peers to support.

you looked out at the audience with a bright, confident smile, scanning the patrons’ faces to see if their applause matched their thoughts. you started with satoru, shoko, and the students, all clapping happily, with satoru and shoko waving with flushed cheeks. the bored man from london now appeared intrigued, especially by the painting of suguru.

your eyes skipped over a stiff figure near the back of the audience.

i hadn’t noticed that man here before, you thought.

no.

he’s all too familiar.

your gaze landed on the man with broad shoulders clad in a dusty sage green blazer over a crisp ivory shirt, sandy blonde hair neatly cut and parted. hollow cheeks framed a strong jaw, and soft, coffee-brown eyes bored into yours. 

it simply couldn’t be him… 

no- it simply couldn’t be anyone else.

nanami kento.

next: part ten

tag list // @bubybubsters @sad-darksoul @corvid007 @kenqki @ikon-teen

© vorfreudevortex | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or otherwise share my work.

[merrybloomwrites]

I Feel the Earth Move

Summary: Y/N experiences her first earthquake and her long distance boyfriend, Spencer, needs to know she's alright.

Word Count: 665

AN: I put a post out the other day that showed there's interest in Spencer stories. And then I felt an earthquake for the first time and got inspired to write this. Just a little story to get into the swing of writing for Spencer.

CW: earthquake

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One of the first things you had talked to Spencer about when you started dating was your shared experiences with hurricanes. Bit of a random topic, but with him being from Florida and you being from New Jersey, it was something you had in common. He then told you about the couple of earthquakes he’d experienced since moving out to Los Angeles. A tiny part of you was slightly jealous, but mostly you were happy you live in a place where the ground stays still at all times.

You’ve been dating Spencer for ten months now, but unfortunately, you’ve been long distance the whole time. Being on opposite coasts with a three-hour time difference makes things more complicated, but you’re looking forward to the near future when you finally get to move out to California. You work as a teacher and just need to finish the current school year and then you’re on your way to Los Angeles. You even have a new job and apartment lined up. Spencer sends texts nearly every day counting down until you’ll finally live in the same city.

It's early April, and your school is on Spring Break. You spent the week catching up on things you had been putting off, like doctor’s appointments and deep cleaning your closets. But now it’s Friday, and your to-do list is done. You’re having a lazy morning at home, sitting and watching some new Smosh videos that you hadn’t gotten a chance to see yet.

Suddenly you hear the hallway door rattling. For a second you think it must be the wind, but then the floor starts to shake. Next thing you know everything is rattling. It only lasts a few seconds and leaves you just standing in the middle of your living room, wondering what the hell just happened.

You think that it might’ve been an earthquake, but that would be ridiculous. Because that doesn’t happen where you live.

But then your mom texts the family group chat asking if everyone felt that. Your brother, sister, and dad all text back saying they had. You do a quick google search and within minutes you find the confirmation that it was in fact an earthquake, so you share the link with your family.

The first person you want to tell is Spencer, but it’s not even 8 in the morning in California. You know he doesn’t need to be at work until later in the day and is likely still sleeping. You’ll wait a bit before texting him, so you don’t wake him up.

 Twenty minutes later your phone starts ringing, and you’re surprised to see Spencer’s name pop up.

“Hey, what are you doing up so early?” You say as a greeting.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Of course I’m okay,” you reply.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the earthquake?”

“I was going to, I just wanted to wait a little while, so I wouldn’t wake you. How did you find out about it?”

“Like, eight different people from work texted me to ask if you lived where the earthquake happened. Y/N, you’re like, a mile from the epicenter. I needed to check that you’re alright.”

You’re overwhelmed with emotion at this, hearing how much he cares, and how worried he was about you.

“I’m okay Spencer, I promise. It wasn’t that bad. Honestly I was more confused than scared,” you reply.

“Well then we need to work on your survival instincts before you come to California,” he says, causing you both to laugh.

“Thank you for checking in on me,” you say.

“I’ll always make sure you’re safe,” he replies. Your heart melts again, and you can’t believe that he’s real. And that he’s really yours.

“I love you,” you say, unable to express your feelings at this moment in any other way.

“I love you too,” he replies, voice full of sincerity.

“Only 86 more days,” you state, giving him the countdown today.

“I can’t wait, baby.”

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AN: Thanks for reading! This is was just a little warm up to writing for Spencer. Please send me any requests you have for him! Also, please lmk if you'd like to be added to a taglist for all my Spencer stories!

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Return Back Home to You

Summary: Five months after the accident that took his memory from him, Bradley gets the all clear to return to the sky. He thought he would be ecstatic to get back in the air, but all he can think about is how the last time he was in a plane, he almost didn’t come home to you. When he tells you he can’t handle doing that to you again, you remind him that all you need from him is to love you and do his best to always come home, and you’d figure out the rest together. 

Word Count: 5.3K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (Forgetful Boy & Pumpkin from RYEWID)

Warnings: Angst. Smut. Oral. Anxiety. Fluff. Language. 

Notes: This little (long) one shot was inspired by two requests I got during the TGM Blurb Party I hosted a few weeks ago: 

Forgetful Boy & Pumpkin. Smut. Glitter. “You liked that, huh?”  Forgetful Boy & Pumpkin. Angst. Glitter. “What do we do?” 

This takes place between Part 10 and the Epilogue of Remember You Even When I Don’t. While it's not completely necessary to read that story before reading this, it will probably make a lot more sense if you do. I hope you enjoy! 

______

Bradley gets the 100% all clear to return to his normal duties on a Friday. It’s late February, five months after his accident, and all of his scans and tests show nothing abnormal. He still doesn’t have all of his memories and there’s a chance he never will, but for all intents and purposes, he’s as healthy now as he was then. 

He’s gone through flight simulations and recertifications and the last thing he needs to actually get back in the cockpit of the brand new F-18 with his name on it is his doctor’s stamp of approval. He hadn’t let himself think that today would be the day he got it, but he holds the paperwork in his hands, the scrawling signature there in black below a recommendation to return to regular duty, declaring him fit and ready. 

All he has to do is turn it in, and it’ll be like nothing has changed. 

But really, in a lot of ways, everything has changed. Even the things that had ultimately stayed the same. He’s not the same person he was before the accident that took his memory from him, even as they slate back into place piece by disorganized piece. 

He sits in the parking lot for a long time before he finally turns the key to start the Bronco. He catches sight of the picture he has of the two of you stuck to his visor and suddenly he knows he has to make a detour before going back to base. Mav had given him three hours because Bradley had expected more tests and poking and prodding to be done, but his appointment had barely lasted an hour. He knew if anyone could help him work through the unexpected jumble of emotions he was feeling, it was you. He was regretting insisting you didn’t come with him this morning to begin with. 

He makes a quick stop on the way, grateful when he sees that you hadn’t run any expected errands and your car is still in the garage when he gets home. You’re not downstairs when he goes inside, so he’s quick to toe off his shoes and head for the stairs. He can hear music playing when he reaches the landing and breathes a sigh of relief that you aren’t on a call. He can hear you at your desk typing away at your computer and when he gets to the doorway, you have the most adorable focused look on your face. 

The sight of you still makes his heart beat a little bit faster, even as it immediately calms him, too. He hopes that never goes away.

“Hey!” you exclaim in surprise. You push your chair back and stand, immediately coming to wrap your arms around him. It’s strange that five months ago, a thick hesitation hung in the air between the two of you. Now it was second nature to press his lips to yours in greeting. “What are you doing home? How was your doctor's appointment?” 

He goes in for another kiss instead of answering you right away, and you hum against his lips in approval. 

“I brought you iced coffee,” he says, handing you the cup he had been holding that he stopped for on the way here from your favorite coffee shop. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, eyeing him as you take a sip. You set the cup down on your desk and tilted your head at him. “What’s wrong?” 

It still surprises him sometimes that you can read him so well. He’s always excelled at concealing his emotions, but you had been able to see right through him from the very beginning. He’s almost glad for it at this moment, because he had no idea how to bring it up. The anxiety that had calmed at first seeing you stirs in him again and with a deep breath, he holds the stack of papers he had received out to you. You take them with furrowed eyebrows. He watches as your eyes scan the document and knows the moment you see the recommendation by how they widen and a soft “oh” escapes you. 

“Baby,” you breathe, looking at him now, “you got the all clear?” 

He nods, suddenly feeling nervous. You’re quiet for a long moment, looking between him and the paper you’re gripping a little bit tighter now. He desperately wants to know what’s going through your head, but he keeps quiet and lets you process instead. 

“Bradley,” you finally whisper. He’s startled to see tears start to shine in your eyes even as a smile brightens your face. “This is so great.” 

The words fall out of his mouth before he can really think them through or stop them. “Is it?” 

“What do you mean? You’re healthy, baby; of course it’s great.” 

Bradley twists his wedding band on his finger as his heart starts to pound. His inner turmoil must read on his face because you set the papers down on your desk next to your coffee and step to him again, resting your hands on his chest. His wrap around you automatically in return. “What’s going through your head right now?” 

“I’m happy everything is okay,” he promises you. He would never want you to think he’s anything but grateful to still be here with you, and that’s true. 

“But?” you prompt. 

There’s a window seat in your office. It’s normally resolved for Florry when she wants a good sun spot, and it’s one that you curl up in when you can tolerate only working on one screen, or when you’ve been sitting at your desk chair for too long. He leads you over to it and you don’t hesitate to crawl into his lap when he sits. You’re patient with him as you always are and you play with the hair on the back of his head as he contemplates what he wants to say. 

“I get to fly again.” 

He’s surprised when his voice cracks. He clears his throat and breathes out heavily, picking at the soft material of your sweater. “I fought so hard to be an aviator. It was all I ever wanted. I used to hate even going a week or two without flying. This is the longest I’ve gone in over 15 years without being in the cockpit and I-I thought I’d be more excited. And I am. But I’m also…I..” 

“Scared?” you offer softly at his hesitation. He meets your eyes, his own wide and confused, and nods. With a sigh, you let your forehead rest against his. Your noses brush and he lets his dark eyes flutter shut for a moment as you center him.

“The last time I was in a plane, I almost left you,” he continues. Though he said it quietly, you flinch against him like he yelled it, and he tightens his grip on you. “I can still feel every ounce of terror that I felt when the canopy wouldn’t open. All I could think about was that we didn’t have enough time and there was still so much we needed to do together. So much that we talked about and hadn’t got to, and I was breaking my promise about growing old with you. And then I woke up in the hospital and I had no idea who you were.”

A tear slips down your cheek and he feels one drip from his eyes, too. He breathes you in slowly. “You looked so broken. And even then, when I didn’t know who you were, I knew you meant something to me. And I knew I was the reason you were hurting. I still see it in my nightmares sometimes. I’m so sorry.” 

“Baby,” you cooed, shaking your head. You removed your hands from his hair and cupped his cheeks instead, gently encouraging him to lift his eyes and look at you. “We’ve talked about this. You have nothing to be sorry for. It was an accident. And I’d do it all again for you. I’d do anything for you.”

“But what if next time it’s worse? A funeral instead of a hospital.” You gasp at his words, but Bradley presses on. “I want to fly. I do. But I don’t think I can feel that fear again. And I can’t put you through something like that, Pumpkin. I can’t.” 

The thought alone makes him shake and feel like the room is closing in on him a little bit. He wasn’t lying when he said he often sees the moment you realized he had lost his memory of you. It’s raw devastation and shock played in high definition over and over again when he closes his eyes. Even then, it had cut him deeply. You were everything to him. He knew that before, and he knew it now. Relearning everything about you and how he felt about you - really, getting to fall in love with you all over again - had reaffirmed that you were the most important thing in his life. What kind of husband would he be if he willingly risked the chance of you having to go through that all over again? And selfishly, he didn’t want to go through that again. 

He wanted to spend forever with you. 

You sigh his name and press a kiss to his lips. “I’m scared too, sweetheart. I’ve always been a little bit scared of what you do. Since the very beginning. Do you remember that?” 

He racks his brain for that particular memory, slowly nodding his head. Yes, that was something he knew. 

“I knew the risks that came along with falling in love with you, Bradley. But it never for one single moment made me hesitate. I love every single part of you, and that includes the very large part of you that includes flying and the Navy, even if it scares me a little bit. I’d never ask you to quit. I don’t want you to quit, not if it’s because it’s what you think I want. All I’ve ever asked is that you do whatever you can to make it home to me, and I know without a doubt that you will always, always do that. Right?” 

“Of course I will,” he says immediately, not even needing to think about it. 

“That’s all I need,” you tell him, brushing your lips together before pulling back so you can look at him. “I’ll support anything you do, baby. Anything, always. But I don’t want you to alter the rest of your life because of fear, or because of me. Not without at least trying first.” 

“So what do I do?” Bradley asks softly, “what do we do?” 

“I think you need to get back in that jet of yours and fly, baby. And we take it from there, together. Like we always do.” 

______

Fridays typically aren’t hop days. Still, as soon as Bradley hands him his forms, Mav offers to make an exception and get him in the sky before the end of the day, if that’s what he wants. He considers for a moment before forcing a smile and telling his godfather and Captain that they might as well just start fresh on Monday. Bradley thinks Mav can read the expression on his face and the apprehension he’s feeling, but he’s glad when he doesn’t push him on it. He reassures him that Monday is a good plan, and that if for whatever reason that didn’t work, they’d have plenty of other opportunities, too. 

He spends the rest of the day in the small closet he was assigned as an office, pretending to focus on the administrative reports he’d been working on. His conversation with you plays through his mind on a loop, and he knows you’re right. He needs to try. But even if he promised you he wouldn’t let fear dictate his decisions, he's thankful for the delay nonetheless.

As it typically does with his friends, word spreads quickly that he was given the green light to get back in the air. His phone goes off with texts in the groupchat from everyone in rapid succession, and while he strategically avoids running into anyone on base, he knows it will be short lived since you both had already agreed to meet everyone at the Hard Deck for drinks tonight. By the time he makes it back home, he’s toying with the idea of canceling so he can delay all of those interactions until Monday too. But you’re waiting for him in the kitchen in a pretty dress with your hair and makeup already done, and he’s not going to let the effort you put in go to waste. 

“I didn’t really feel like cooking,” you explain after he kisses you. “I thought we could go out for dinner before we meet up with everyone?”

“Looking as beautiful as you do, we can go anywhere you want.”

You roll your eyes, but you laugh, too, and it’s one of his favorite sounds. He kisses you again before going to take a quick shower. 

You had been talking about pizza all week, but you end up splitting two different entrees at his favorite Mexican restaurant instead, sipping on frozen margaritas and indulging on too much chips and queso. You insist that your craving changed, but he suspects you changed your mind just for him after the morning he had. He kisses you a little longer at the table than he probably should, but the lime and tequila tastes better from your lips.  

The meal passes by quicker than he likes and he has his hand on your thigh as he drives the two of you to the Hard Deck. He notices you fiddling with your ring, which has always been a nervous tick of yours. When you start sneaking glances at him, Bradley clears his throat. 

“This isn’t just drinks at the Hard Deck, is it?”

You flash him a guilty look from the passenger seat. “Nat didn’t fill me in until right before we went to dinner. They really wanted to throw a party for you to celebrate your clean bill of health. I told her to try and reel it in and that you didn’t want all that attention but…you know how they are.” 

Yes, Bradley knew exactly how his friends were. Supportive to a fault for both successes and failures, and they hadn’t been shy at telling him how they were itching to get him back in the sky ever since he started on administrative duty. 

When his silence stretched on a little too long, you spoke up again, “We can go home, baby. They’ll understand.” 

He wishes it was as easy as that. But he had promised you that he would try, and he knew his friends had good intentions with whatever they were planning. Truly, he should feel special that he had people who cared enough to do things like this for him; it still took him by surprise sometimes, considering how he had forgotten it. So with a sigh, he shakes his head and turns his palm over on your thigh. Once you intertwine your fingers with his, he squeezes lightly. 

“It’s fine. Just stick with me tonight?” 

“Always, baby.” 

______

If this was Nat’s best attempt at reeling it in, Bradley’s a little scared at what it would have been if she didn’t. There are streamers and balloons damn near everywhere, not to mention the handmade banner reading “Roosters CAN Fly” that hangs on the wall. He’s not sure how they got Penny to agree to let them decorate her bar like this on a Friday night. As soon as the two of you walk through the door, he’s greeted with yells and a round of applause, along with a confetti gun that’s shot in his direction and leaves both of you covered in glitter. He’s handed a drink before he can make too much of a fuss over it. He doesn’t let go of your hand until he has to, accepting hug after hug and congratulations after congratulations. He feels a little overwhelmed, but he’d be lying if he didn’t feel warm, too. 

“Hope you’re reading to get your ass kicked first thing Monday morning,” Jake greets him with a hard pat on his back. “You’ve been locked in that bird cage for so long, Rooster, are you sure you even remember how to climb into the plane?” 

“Fuck off,” he scoffs, “I’m still a better pilot than you.” 

Jake smirks at him widely, handing him a fresh bottle when he had run empty. Bradley doubts he’ll end up paying for a single drink tonight. “Guess we’ll see next week.” 

He clinks his bottle against his in acknowledgement. 

A lot of the night goes by just the same. Everyone is so happy for him getting this final seal of approval that he can get his old life back and so excited for him to officially be back on the squad in every sense. There’s already talk of what training course they’d run and who all would have the opportunity to get in the air with him on his first day or the rest of the week. Everyone is eager, not doubting him or his ability for a moment, and he starts feeling more of the excitement he had expected when he was handed the verdict this morning. When he meets your eyes from across the pool table, some of the tension he had felt at letting you down loosens around his heart, because you’re looking at him like you’re proud of him. He opens his arms for you and you make your way over to him without any further prompting, allowing him to hold you against him. You stay with your back against his chest for the remainder of the conversation he’s in, and for a long time after that, too. 

By the time you decide to head home, it’s a little before midnight. You’ve both had a little more to drink than anticipated, and while neither of you are drunk, you decide to grab an Uber home and plan to come get the Bronco in the morning instead. You sit in the middle of the blue Toyota Camry that had picked you up, snuggled against his side. You ghost your lips across his neck and your breath on his skin makes him tingle all over when you speak. His arm tightens around your shoulder, trying to pull you closer. 

“You looked like you ended up having a good time.”

“I did,” he confirms, keeping his voice quiet in the effort of some sort of privacy. “More than I thought I would.” 

“Do you feel better about Monday now?” you asked. You let your fingers dance across his denim covered thigh. He felt his cock stirring in his jeans at your touch. 

“I do feel better about it,” he says. He leans down so his lips brush your ear and loves how you shiver for him. “I feel great about what’s going to happen tonight, though.”

“Mmm, and what’s going on tonight?”

He knows that you’re trying to be coy. He nips at your earlobe, smirking at the small gasp you let out. He risks a glance into the front seat, but their driver is singing along to the music on the radio under his breath, completely ignoring them in the backseat. Still, Bradley lowers his voice as quietly as possible as he whispers to you, “I’m going to get you in our bed, and remind you how thankful I am for you, and how ready I am to marry you again soon. I’m going to make you come so hard that you’ll be screaming for me, Pumpkin.” 

Your nails dig into his thigh and you bite your lip to contain the moan you want to let out. In the darkness of the passing streetlights, he sees your eyes flutter shut. He had remembered quickly after your - second - first time together that you loved when he talked to you like this, and it was always guaranteed to get you going. He continues whispering all the things he wants to do to you as the driver turns into your neighborhood. When he knows your street is coming up, he dares to let the arm draped over your shoulder slip a little lower, squeezing your covered breast in the palm of his hand before flicking your nipple with his fingers. 

“And you’re going to love every second of it, sweetheart.” 

He swallows the sound you threaten to make before it can escape with a kiss. When the car slows to a stop at the end of your driveway, he thanks the driver before helping you out of the car. You’re a little wobbly on your feet at first and he knows it’s not from the alcohol. He sets a hand at the small of your back and leads you up the driveway and to the front porch. He’s anxious to get you inside and fulfill everything he said he was going to do to you. You’re a little less patient, pressing your body up against his as he searches his keys to find the one for the front door. 

“Another minute in that car and the driver would have been tipping us,” you tell him, running your hand down his chest and cupping him through his jeans. You press a kiss to his throat as you squeeze, and Bradley smirks through a groan as he finally gets the right key in the door. 

“You liked that, huh?”

You hum in agreement as you work your lips and tongue over his skin. “I like you.” 

“Just like?” he asks, mock offended as he gets the door open. You squeal when he picks you up and carries you inside, kicking it shut and locking it behind him, but never letting you even come close to falling. He holds you up right there in the entryway; your hair tickles his cheeks when it falls around him like a curtain as you look down. 

“Maybe a little more than like,” you concede with a shrug, a mischievous glint in your eyes that he loves so much. 

“What do I do to get upgraded?” 

“Take me to bed and maybe we can find out.” 

The words are barely out before he’s shifting his hold on you to have you draped over his shoulder instead. He can’t resist the playful smack to your ass he delivers, and you’re laughing as he carries you up the stairs. He narrowly avoids tripping over Florry, who is laying at the top looking at both of her parents like they’re crazy, but she scrambles away and Bradley makes it to the master bedroom without incident. 

You bounce on the mattress when he drops you down on it, immediately following behind you so you’re laid underneath him. You’re still giggling and he can’t help but laugh with you. He runs his fingers through your hair, smiling at the flecks of gold and silver that’s still there from when it was thrown over the two of you upon your arrival at the bar.

“You have glitter stuck in your hair,” he tells you. 

“What can I say baby, you make me sparkle.” 

He snorts, and he knows how unserious you are by how your laughter increases too as you pull his face to yours. “That was terrible.” 

The drinks from the night are still simmering in your system, even if the buzz has dissipated significantly from the drive home and the lust both of you are feeling. He loves how playful and carefree the two of you can be, even in the most intimate of moments. It still shakes him to his core that for a moment, he lost this feeling. But it’s made him appreciate you and all the memories you create together all the more.   

You smile against his jawline, peppering kisses along his skin until you end at his lips. “You love it.” 

“I do,” he says, very matter-of-fact, and your smile grows. “Do you? Have I been upgraded from like to love yet?” 

“You’re getting there,” you joke, raising an eyebrow in challenge and glancing down at both of your bodies, still completely covered. “You might get there faster if you get naked, though.” 

He rises from the bed to quickly strip himself of his clothes and starts trying to tug at yours at the same time. You laugh and swat at his large hands to do it yourself. He gets momentarily distracted watching you shimmy out of your dress and underwear without ever leaving the bed, but focuses on kicking his jeans away and toeing off his socks when you lay back, watching him; he never wants to keep you waiting. 

Bradley returns to the bed and kisses his way down your body once he joins you in your state of undress, spreading your legs for him so he can lay between them. He curls his arms around your thighs to hold you just the way he wants you, completely open for his enjoyment. He latches his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, nose brushing against the soft skin of your pelvis, and your hips raise at the sensation. Your hands take residence in his hair, effectively holding him against you. 

“Bradley.” 

He’ll never get enough of how good you taste. He alternates between long licks of your pussy and sucking on your clit. He does his best to take his time, wanting to draw out your pleasure, but he can tell you’re just as eager for him to be inside of you as he is. He reasons that he can spend the entire morning tomorrow with his head buried between your legs to make up for how quickly he’s going to make you cum now. He spells out your name with his tongue and hums against your clit and you start to tremble. Your nails scratch at his scalp and tug at his hair as you yell his name, just as he promised you that you would. 

He crawls back up your body as you come down, dragging his throbbing cock through your wetness, but not sliding into you yet. “How about now, Pumpkin?” 

“What?” 

He can’t help but smirk at the dazed look on your face, knowing he’s the one who put it there. “Do you love me?”

“Yes,” you breathe, clutching at his arms. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Your voice breaks off as he sinks into you. You’re so tight around him, gripping him like a vice, and he gives you a moment to adjust once he bottoms out. He can feel the aftershocks of your previous orgasm still shooting through you. It’s tempting to start moving just to see you immediately go into another orgasm, but he wants to take his time with you now that he’s buried as deeply as he is. 

“Okay?” he rasps. You lean up and lick at his mustache, which he knows is coated in your wetness. He groans and falls to his forearms, pushing his body closer to yours. “Pumpkin, tell me I can move.”

“Make me scream, baby.”

Bradley pulls out almost the entire way before slamming back into you. Both of you moan at the feeling. He finds a rhythm easily, keeping his movements tantalizing slow. There is no other feeling in the world like being with you, especially like this. You’re so warm and tight around him, your walls velvety and sucking him in with every thrust. It’s like you were made just for him. 

“Please,” you whimper. At your pleading, he rolls his hips in a way that makes you keen. With little warning, he’s pounding his hips into yours. Every gasp and moan has him fucking you faster and harder, and when he knows you’re getting close, he rolls the two of you so you’re on top. You nearly choke on the moan of pleasure you let out. His fingers grip your hips tightly as you immediately begin to bounce on his cock, meeting every downward movement with an upward thrust of his own. Your nails scratch down his chest in a way he knows he’ll be able to see in the mirror tomorrow, just the way he likes it. You look so glorious above him like this. 

“Come on, baby. Scream for me.” 

Bradley gives one more targeted thrust of his hips and you do just that. His name echoes throughout the room, joining the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Your pussy clenches around him as your orgasm rocks through your body. He rolls the two of you again so that you’re beneath him and he joins you over the edge with only a few more sharp grinds of his hips. 

You shower together afterwards, washing away the sweat from your bodies and the glitter from your hair. You drop to your knees for him when he’s massaging in your conditioner for you, smiling up at him and telling him not to miss any strands before wrapping your lips around him and swallowing him down. He helps you dry it afterward as a thank you.

When you’re laying in bed, your back pressed to his chest and his face buried in your neck, he breaks the peaceful silence that had overtaken you as sleep starts to pull you in. 

“I’m always gonna try and come home to you, Pumpkin. You know that?”

You turn in his arms so you’re facing him and press a kiss to his bare chest, right above his beating heart. “I know.” 

————

Pumpkin🧡: You’re gonna do so well, sweetheart. I love you, and I’m so damn proud of you.

“You ready for this?”

Bradley stares at the text you had sent him not too long ago for another moment, memorizing every word and taking strength in them. He rubs his thumb over your contact picture at the top of the chat before locking his phone. With a deep breath, he stands from the bench he’s been sitting on in the tower. Mav is looking at him expectantly. 

“You don’t have to do this today, Bradley,” his godfather says quietly, taking his silence as hesitation. But Bradley shakes his head and reaches for his helmet bag. 

“Yes I do. I’m ready.” 

Being back in the cockpit is perhaps the most familiar thing he’s encountered in the last five months. It’s a different plane, of course, but everything is the same. He takes several deep breaths as he goes through his preflight checks and when he loads himself into the plane and the Tower clears him for takeoff, he momentarily wants to back out. But someone had the foresight to tape a picture of the two of you near his control panel, the exact one that was in his last plane, and he knows this is what he has to do. 

It’s a beautiful day for flying, not a cloud in the sky. The moment Bradley becomes airborne, he feels like a piece he didn’t even know was missing just slotted back into place. He can’t help the smile that takes over his face or the happy laughter that bursts from him. He hadn’t let himself really miss it, but just like being with you, it feels so natural being up in the air, so right. He doesn’t stop smiling the whole time he’s in the sky.

Bradley grabs his phone as soon as he’s able, your message thread still pulled up when he unlocks the device. 

Back on solid ground. I can’t wait to come home to you. I love you.

------

Notes: I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did writing it. I've missed these two so much 💚

Thanks Mak and Em for your help as always!

RYEWID Epilogue

RYEWID Masterlist

Masterlist

Tag List (please let me know if you’d like to be removed or added!) :  @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @hoyaharper - @wildxwidow - @gretagerwigsmuse - @bradshawburner - @iamaslytherin0 - @lilyevanswhore - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @fav-fanficssss - @benhardysdrumstick - @fandomxpreferences - @acatwriteshere - @1234-angelika - @double-j - @cocoskween - @sunflowersteves - @teacupsandtopgun - @littlezee80 - @sometimesanalice - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @khaylin27 - @infamous-reindeer - @hotch-meeeeeuppppp - @sarahjoestewy-blog - @sunnysidesidra - @notroosterbradshaw - @yanna-banana - @inthestars-underthesun -@avengersfan25 - @wkndwlff - @zbeez-outlet - @lt-spork - @indynerdgirl - @loveforaugust - @mssleepy876b

@kassieesworld - @luckylexie - @lovemesomevesey - @mizzzpink - @books-for-summer - @a-serene-place-to-be - @deviltsunoda - @tv-fanatic18 - @memoriesat30 - @melody-death - @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog - @dabisblackprincess - @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy - @realdirectionx - @waywardhunter95 - @myownworstenemyyy - @sexualparkour - @sadpetalsstuff - @almostgenerallyalways -@alilstressyandlotdepressy - @14readwritedraw96 - @ccbb2222 - @taytaylala12 - @alittlechaotics-blog - @starkleila

@shelbycillian - @mavrellover91 - @vici111 - @merishfit - @plaper1 - @lunamooncole - @pariahsparadise - @bunny-nonnie - @blackwidownat2814 - @huang-the-geek - @jpgliv - @bluelicious - @loveyhoneydovey - @pisupsala - @nuvoleincielo - @olivezeppelin - @jynxmirage - @shanimallina87 - @ouralcohol - @lumpypoll - @discowitchyy - @bellaireland1981- @princessmiaelicia - @eighthwvnder - @floydflys - @smile-child-13 - @rashelruby10 - @csoutsider - @cowboybarbie - @haydensith - @itsizzythebell - @phantomxoxo - @myhealthymarvelobsession - @winterrebel04

[minami97]

Imagine Taking Family Portrait Photo With Bucky And Your Big Family (And Finding Out Being Pregnat)

A/N: This inspiration i have when I saw my family photo which I took last month and I felt like turning that into a moment into an Imagine.

This is a part of the previous imagines of being in an interracial relationship with Bucky. (Reader is depicted as Chinese-Malaysian)

Before The Photo Taking Day - The L/N Family Group Chat

[Aunty Felicia: N/N, when are you and James arriving?

You: The 14th, ETA 11 am arrival

Aunty Felicia: Ok 👌

Sis: You guys got your own transportation? @/you

You: 👍

Aunty Emily: @/Aunty Felicia what would the arrange be?

Aunty Felicia: It will be by families then with Po po and Gong Gong]

Bucky: Doll, your phone is going off with the notification it’s annoying! *he groans into his pillow*

Y/N: I’m sorry, Aunty Felicia is doing the arrangements.

Bucky: *muffled screams*

Y/N: *rolls her eyes and gets up to switch her phone to do not disturb* There happy?

Bucky: *Takes away the extra pillow from his face* Yes.

Y/N: You're lucky I love you.

Before The Trip Back Home

-In The Bathroom Of The Shared Apartment Of Bucky & Y/N-

Y/N: *vomits into the toilet bowl*

Bucky: *rubs her back* We are not going back there again.

Y/N: *groans* Maybe not for a while

Bucky: Well... We better tell everyone you haven't been feeling well... We can cancel the trip...

Y/N: NO! The tickets were already paid for!

Bucky: *He's slightly disappointed for not being able to cancel the trip* We'll go to the doctor's before the trip then.

Before The Trip - Doctor’s Appointment Without Bucky

-At the clinic-

The OBGYN: Congratulations Ms L/N you are pregnant and you’re 3 weeks into your pregnancy

Y/N: I’m sorry what?

The OBGYN: Ms. L/N, you are pregnant

During The Trip - Plane Ride To Hometown

Y/N: *Sleeping on Bucky’s shoulders*

Bucky: *Leans down to kiss her forehead* At least your mom cooks nice dishes…

Y/N: *mumbles* I knew it…

Bucky: *pats her head gently*

- 12 hours into the flight -

Bucky: *feels nauseous* Doll ... I feel sick ...

Y/N: *Gives him a small bottle of pellets*

Bucky: Thanks ...

The Trip - Back In Malaysia

Annabelle (Y/N's Niece): Y/N sim sim! Bucky kiu kiu! I miss you!!! *goes to hug her aunt and uncle*

Y/N: Nana! I miss you too! *hugs her niece*

Annabelle: *Breaks the hug in 3 mins* Kiu kiu I want to see Alpine's photos! I miss her

Bucky: *Takes out his phone and unlocks it* here you go princess

S/N (sis): How's the flight?

Y/N: It was alright. Bucky got sick.

Benjamin (Y/N's Nephew): Y/N sim sim! Bucky kiu kiu! *runs into Bucky's arm*

Bucky: *Caught Benji with ease* Hey sport!

Mom: Y/N! James! Lunch is ready, I made your favorites.

Y/N: Let's go! Makan time!

- Annabelle and Benjamin follows Bucky like ducklings -

S/N: *Whispers* Are you pregnant?

Y/N: *Put her index finger on her lips*

The Trip - Family Portrait Photo Day

- Inside the dressing room-

Bucky: *Looks at Y/N in aw* You look so beautiful, doll.

Y/N: *Getting her make up done by MUA* You look handsome too my love.

- After getting ready, Y/N is checking herself in the mirror -

Bucky: *Hugs her from behind* You look gorgeous. *kisses her neck*

Y/N: *giggles* You too, handsome.

-Photo shooting-

Aunty Felicia: Ok, Y/N and family take their photos with Po po and Gong Gong first.

Y/N: *Switches her flats for heels* Coming!

- Bucky stands behind Gong Gong and next to Dad, Y/N Stands next to Bucky, S/N and her husband stands behind Po po and next to mom, Annabelle and Benjamin sits in front -

- The photo session went on for a day with couple shoots and everyone had a fun joking and catching up -

- Y/N and Bucky had a couple photo that is in the theme of 1920s Shanghai -

Po Po: James looks like a young Chow Yun Fatt

The Trip - Family Dinner At Po Po's House

Bucky: Dear, there's ginger in that.

Y/N: So? I'm hungry.

Bucky: You hate ginger remember?

Y/N: It's not that bad as how I remembered

Sis: Okay! Let's eat! We'll talk later.

Bucky: *Eyes Y/N and S/N with suspicion* You two are hiding something. I will find out what is it.

Y/N: *shoved her spoon with some pork into his mouth*

The Trip - Bucky Finding Out

- In the bathroom -

Bucky: *Picks up a discarded Pregnancy test* WAIT!

- Bucky rushed out from the realization -

Bucky: Doll, what is this? *Shows the pregnancy test*

Y/N: *Panics* Will you let it slide if I say it's not mine?

Bucky: *gives her the hard stare*

Y/N: Surprise??? We're going to be parents

Bucky: * Hugs her* We're going to be parents!

Y/N: we are ... *smiles softly*

The Trip - Last Big Dinner Before Flying Back To New York

- Big Family Photo -

Bucky: Alright, one more photo for my camera. Say 'We're expecting'!

Y/N: *Grins and laugh* We're expecting!

- Everyone had a big shock especially Po Po and Gong Gong -

- After the family photo taking, everyone congratulated both Y/N and Bucky -

Bucky: Oh definitely, we're going to visit for Chinese New Year, and we're definitely staying longer since it's going to be the three of us.

Uncle Gerald: Of course, fatherhood is an interesting journey

- Y/N and the children are talking -

Annabelle: Are we going to have a new cousin soon?

Y/N: Not for a long while for you, Nana.

Annabelle: Well ... I don't care, as long as she's a girl so I can have a friend

Y/N: What about you Benji?

Benjamin: I want a boy, I don't like being the only boy *he huffs*

- Bucky sees Y/N with her niece and nephew, he had the biggest smile on his face -

After The Trip - Back In New York

- Both Y/N and Bucky are unpacking their luggage -

Y/N: Bucky, why are there so many herbs and supplements?

Bucky: Your mother and grandmother gave them to us. They say it's good for the pregnancy.

Y/N: *groans* We don't have space for them

Bucky: We'll make space for them

Y/N: *Kisses him on the cheek* You are embracing my Chinese roots so well...

Bucky: *Gives her a smile* I try, doll.

[red-jaebyrd]

A New Bird in the Nest

Summary: What if Jason survived Ethiopia and Bruce adopted Tim early? Jason has many insecurities about the new addition to Wayne Manor and it doesn’t help that Bruce has been avoiding Jason since he came back from the hospital. The fear of being replaced and pushed out looms over Jason and it all starts when a kid named Tim Drake moves in. This fic was inspired by this beautiful piece of art by @ky-landfill

It had been almost three months since Ethiopia and Jason was still walking on eggshells around Bruce. Lately Bruce was all clipped tones and clenched jawed whenever Jason attempted to start a conversation with him.  After a while Jason gave up trying to talk to Bruce altogether. With a heavy heart Jason came to the harsh realization that Bruce was obviously still mad at him about Ethiopia.

Bruce was always busy now that Jason was home from the hospital. And while Jason was no longer confined to a bed and could now get around with the help of crutches, Bruce was hardly home. When he was home, Bruce was either holed up in the Cave or his study at all hours. At mealtimes he was constantly hiding behind a newspaper or hyper-focused on a tablet to avoid talking to Jason. Whenever his eyes would wander and meet Jason’s, it was always met with worry lines and a furrowed brow. It got on Jason’s nerves. He didn’t want Bruce’s pity. He just wanted Bruce to talk to him without snapping.

The only time they had talked was in the car on the way to Jason’s PT or to various doctor’s appointments. The conversations always mainly focused on the progress and recovery of Jason’s leg and nothing else. Jason figured it was probably easier for Bruce to talk to him if he didn’t have to actually look at him.

Since Jason had come home from the hospital Bruce had restricted Jason’s access to the Cave. He had told Jason that he didn’t want him to be in the Cave using numerous excuses like the flooring was unstable and would interfere with his crutches. There were also no handrails or any feasible way to install them.

Bruce’s cutoff of Robin spoke volumes to Jason without Bruce ever having to say much to him.

Continue on A03

Dick was visiting at the Manor today. Jason always looked forward to Dick’s visits, but he would never admit that to his older brother. When Jason had arrived home from the hospital, Dick had temporarily moved back into the Manor to help with Jason’s care.

At first Jason resented the gesture, mostly because he thought Dick was doing it out of guilt, but after a while it didn’t matter why Dick decided to stay at the Manor, Jason liked having him around. Not to mention Dick was a great buffer between him and Bruce.

Last week Dick had moved back to his apartment in Bludhaven. It was time for Dick to go back to his city and as much as Jason didn’t want him to go, he knew Dick had responsibilities he needed to get back to. Jason missed hanging out with his older brother every day, but Dick had promised to stop by and visit at least every other weekend.

This weekend Dick came, and they were hanging out the kitchen munching on Alfred’s delicious chicken salad sandwiches when Dick surprised Jason with a question.

“Have you and Bruce talked at all about what happened in Ethiopia?” Dick broached, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

“No,” Jason swallowed, putting his sandwich down and grabbing some chips. “We haven’t talked about that day. He doesn’t really talk to me anymore. Not that he ever talked a lot before, you know, but this is different. He snaps at me sometimes and stops mid-sentence. It’s like he wants to say something to me, but then he doesn’t.” Jason’s shoulders were inching toward his ears. “I think – I think he’s still mad at me.”

“He’s not mad at you,” Dick sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration and muttering a ‘Dammit Bruce’ under his breath. “Believe me. He’s – he’s just overwhelmed with what could have happened and he’s bad at communicating that fear to you.” Dick rubbed his hands together over his plate to discard the crumbs. He put his hand on Jason’s shoulder and squeezed. “You almost died, Jay and for him it wasn’t the first time he’d almost lost his kid to a rogue. He’s not upset with you. Give him time.”

Jason scowled at Dick. How much more time did Jason need to give Bruce? It had been at almost three months. Jason pushed his plate away from him and rubbed the crumbs from his hands onto his jeans. The sandwich now felt like stone in his stomach.

“He won’t let me back in the Cave. Do you think – do you think he’ll take Robin away?” Jason inquired, picking at his sandwich just to give his hands something to do.

“The truth?” Dick asked, leveling a look at Jason.

Jason nodded.

“He should. At least for –,“

“But I didn’t mean to –,“ Jason interrupted, his eyes wide at Dick’s answer.

Dick held up his hands in a placating manner “Let me finish. He should take it away at least for now. Maybe allowing a kid at 13 to fight dangerous criminals wasn’t the brightest idea on his part.”

“You did it at 9 years old,” Jason argued, clenching his fists at the table.

He couldn’t believe the hypocrite Dick was being when it came to Robin. He thought Dick would understand.

“Our situations were different,” Dick countered, raising his voice a little. “I didn’t give Bruce a choice in the matter. I was going to find my parents’ killer with or without his help. Robin was a way for me to be out there making a difference and seeking justice for my parents.”

“I don’t know why I even asked you,” Jason snapped, crossing his arms. “You never liked me being Robin in the first place.”

“No, I didn’t,” Dick retorted, his jaw clenching. Jason recoiled at the quick response. “Robin was mine. It was my mantle to hand over to a successor, not Bruce. I was replaced before I even got a say in the matter.”

Jason lips parted to say something but all he could do was glare at Dick. Dick had never let him forget that he had been replaced.

Dick got up from the table and placed his plate and glass in the sink.

Jason chanced a look at Dick who had his back turned to him with his arms braced at the sink edge. His shoulders tense. After a while Dick turned on the faucet and began to wash his dishes.

Now Dick was going to give him the silent treatment just like Bruce. Jason sighed and rubbed his forehead. He really did have a knack for messing things up and pissing people off. He couldn’t afford right now to have yet another person in his life not speaking to him; especially Dick. They just started getting to know each other again.

He never should’ve said anything to Dick about Robin.

“I never liked that he made you Robin, but…” Dick admitted, breaking the silence and turning off the water.

Here we go, Jason thought, bracing himself for Dick to lay into him.

“I quickly saw in you what Bruce did, that you were the right choice for the mantle,” Dick continued, his voice gentle and even. Jason blinked and looked up at Dick. The older man was now facing Jason drying his hands on a dishtowel. All signs of anger gone as the brightness returned to Dick’s eyes.

Jason gave him a small smile. Dick didn’t have to say that last part to him. Jason picked up his plate and limped to a drawer next to the sink for a Ziploc bag. He placed the reminder of his sandwich in it and hobbled to put it in the fridge. Dick took his plate, turned on the water, and began to wash it. Jason headed back to his chair at the table.

“Do –,” Jason hesitated, steeling himself for his next question. He padded his finger against a scratch on the wood. “-do you think he’ll replace me too?”

It was a question he hated asking out loud, especially to Dick, he didn’t even know why he asked it. Maybe he was hoping for some support, a counter argument in his favor, a lie, or a platitude. However, Jason knew deep down Dick wouldn’t sugar coat his words.

“Not unless he decides to adopt another kid,” Dick snorted, turning off the water and drying his hands. “And I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

“Thanks for the reassurance, Dick,” Jason retorted, rolling his eyes.  

“Jay, I’m kidding,” Dick teased, throwing a dish towel at Jason. “He’s not adopting another kid, okay?”

Jason nodded. He wanted to believe Dick, but Dick had now planted a seed of doubt. Considering Bruce’s track record there was always the possibility of Robin being replaced looming over Jason.

Two weeks later Jason was blindsided by the introduction to Tim Drake. A boy he had met briefly at a gala that Jason had attended with Bruce last year. He remembered trying to make conversation with the kid, but the interaction was awkward. The kid hadn’t been very talkative. While he had an overly friendly smile and gave Jason his full attention, the kid only nodded and gave Jason one word answers. Jason wasn’t sure if the kid was just shy or stuck up. Jason had concluded that the kid likely didn’t want to be seen talking to a street rat from Park Row and was just humoring him.

Bruce informed Alfred and Jason that Tim’s stay was a temporary emergency foster placement until a relative could be contacted.

Jason could deal with having a stranger in his house for a week or two, it didn’t mean he had to like him or spend time with him.  

For the next several days, Jason avoided the new kid at all costs except at meal times, which were unavoidable. Alfred and Bruce wouldn’t allow him to take meals up to his room. Bruce even stopped hiding behind newspapers and tablets at the table futilely trying to engage the kid in conversation. The kid hardly talked but answered questions when asked. Bruce still sometimes stayed in his study, but he now started opening the door again. It was something he hadn’t done since Jason had come home from the hospital.

The changes in the house were obvious, and it stung that the kid was getting Bruce’s undivided attention.

Whatever.

The kid had exceptional table manners, which was expected considering where he came from, but it still rubbed Jason the wrong way. What was this kid trying to prove anyway, that he was better than Jason? No shit, Sherlock, that much was obvious.  But it didn’t matter, the kid was soon moving out of Jason’s house and in with relatives. Jason would soon be rid of him.

It didn’t help matters that Dick and the new kid got along perfectly. Dick came over to the Manor right away to meet the new kid. The kid was completely enamored with Dick soaking up the frequent hair tousles and side hugs that Dick had always reserved for Jason.

First, the kid had stolen Bruce’s attention away from Jason, now he was stealing all of the time Jason would normally have with Dick.

About a week and half into the new kid’s stay, Bruce dropped the bomb that plans had changed, and the kid would now be staying with them at the Manor permanently. The kid was soon moved from a bedroom in the guest wing to a bedroom in the family wing next to Jason.

Jason’s stomach dropped. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Bruce had actually done the very thing Dick had teased him about almost two weeks ago, ‘not unless he adopts another kid’. It was actually happening.

Jason was being replaced! It was only a matter of time before Jason was completely out of the picture and the new kid became the new Robin.

He phoned Dick right away yelling at him that Bruce was replacing him with this new kid.

“This is all your fault,” Jason barked on the phone, slowly pacing his room.

“What’s my fault?” Dick asked.

“’Not unless he adopts another kid’ bullshit. Well it’s happening, because you’re the one who said it out loud,” Jason argued, clenching his jaw in frustration. It was a weak argument, but it was all Jason had at the moment. He had to blame someone.

“Jay, you can’t speak something into existence,” Dick snorted.

“I – I know that, dumbass,” Jason growled, irritated that Dick wasn’t taking him seriously. “I just didn’t think he’d –.”

The lump in his throat cut off his words and made his breath hitch. This was all happening too fast for Jason. Bruce wasn’t supposed to get another kid this fast or at all. The kid was supposed to move in with relatives. Jason knew he wouldn’t be Robin forever, but he thought he’d have enough time to get used to not being Robin before Bruce went and replaced him.

“Jay, are you still there? Talk to me, bud,” Dick said, breaking the silence, all teasing gone from his voice. “Bruce isn’t replacing you, Little Wing. He’s simply giving a kid something he needs right now, a home and a family. Nothing more. Besides, Tim is harmless and a great kid. I hope you’re being nice to him.”

“Why does he need my home and my family?” Jason whined, sagging onto his bed. His leg throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

Jason knew he was being unreasonable. This kid had done nothing wrong except existing, yet Jason couldn’t bring himself to be nice because this kid was getting the one thing Jason had been wanting for the last two months – Bruce’s undivided attention; and now stealing the only thing he had left - his brother’s devotion.

“Because his family failed him, Jay,” Dick replied, his tone matter of fact yet gentle. “You know what that’s like. Just talk to him and try to get to know him. He’s a great kid.”

Jason couldn’t bring himself to start a conversation with the kid, not yet anyway, but he no longer glared at the kid at meals or slammed his door in the kid’s face. He’d nod whenever the kid said, ‘Good morning’ and no longer avoided the library when he saw the kid sitting in his favorite chair. He even kept his mouth shut when he saw the kid sitting in Bruce’s study just feet away from the Grandfather clock entrance to the Cave.

The more Jason paid quiet attention to the kid, the more he saw things that reminded him of his own upbringing with Willis and he didn’t like it. The kid knew how to stay out of the way. When he was not occupied elsewhere with Bruce or Alfred, the kid spent most of his time in his room. The kid never really ventured within the Manor by himself beyond the library or kitchen, even though he was given permission and encouraged to explore his surroundings.

At first, Jason actually liked it. It meant he didn’t have to run into the kid or spend any time with him. But soon Jason realized that the kid’s avoidance of everyone was a definite problem.

The kid was quiet and never brought any kind of attention to himself. He never complained about the food given to him, ever; and ate everything on his plate, even the gross under-seasoned brussel sprouts and cauliflower. Bruce didn’t even eat the brussel sprouts on his plate. Jason knew the kid hated them because he noticed the kid struggling to swallow every single one, but he never said anything to Alfred or Bruce. Bruce eventually told the kid that he didn’t have to eat anything he didn’t like, but it was like the kid didn’t hear him. The kid also never asked for seconds but would say yes when they were offered to him.

The weirdest thing of all, the kid never initiated any conversation with Bruce or Alfred unless they spoke to him first. The kid was literally the poster child for that saying, ‘children should be seen and not heard’.

He didn’t even speak up one particular evening when he started breaking out in hives at dinner.

Jason was the first one to notice something was wrong with the kid. It was only for a split second and the kid must have realized something wasn’t right either because he instantly put his head down. But it was too late, Jason had seen the red raised splotches on the kid’s neck and face. The kid was white-knuckling his cutlery, a piece of Alfred’s Pesto Penne was still dangling off his fork.

If Jason had the height and the strength, he would have kicked the kid under the table.

Say something, kid!

Jason wasn’t sure why he was getting so mad, but it was pissing him off that this kid was going through what looked like some sort of anaphylaxis episode and staying quiet. Jason still might not know how to talk to the kid, and maybe he was still a little angry at him for stealing Bruce and Dick, but he didn’t want him to die.

Could it be that the kid was genuinely afraid to disrespect adults that he’d put his health in danger and eat whatever was put in front of him?

Didn’t the kid know by now that Bruce wasn’t going to be mad at him for speaking up about an allergy? Hadn’t the kid spent enough time with Bruce to know that he’d never be shamed for something he couldn’t control.

“Bruce!” Jason yelled, finally getting the man’s attention. Bruce gave him a puzzled look. “Your new kid needs you.”

Just then the kid cleared his throat and made a weird and alarming wheezing sound. Bruce’s fork clattered on his plate the moment he laid eyes on the kid.

“Tim, are you okay?”

The kid’s eyes went wide. His eyes scanned frantically at Jason, Bruce and then Alfred, but he didn’t say a word.

“Tim, I need you to answer me, okay,” Bruce asked, keeping his voice low and calm. “Are you allergic to pine nuts?”

“No, I…I don’t know,” The kid swallowed, tears pooling in his eyes. “I’m…I’m allergic to almonds, but I’m…I’m okay.”

It was obvious to Jason and everyone else in the room that the kid was anything but okay.

“Alfred, get two epi-pens and call Leslie,” Bruce ordered, making his way to a chair closer to Tim to examine his face and neck.

“Right away, sir.”

“I’m okay,” The kid wheezed, moving his face away from Bruce. “Really, it’s f-fine.”

Jason couldn’t take it anymore. The kid was obviously not okay. Nothing about this was fine. The sooner he realized that the better.

“You’re not okay, you dummy! You don’t fuck around with food allergies!” Jason bellowed, banging his fists on the table to emphasize his point. “If you’re not feeling good because the food is making you sick, you fucking say something.”

“Jason,” Bruce warned, keeping his voice even while also leveling Jason with a glare.

He could see Bruce clenching his jaw as he went back to examining the kid. Jason ignored him. He didn’t care that he was making Bruce mad. Jason needed to finish telling the kid what he needed to hear.

“If you’re still hungry, ask for more food,” Jason continued, his voice getting louder. “If you don’t like the food, don’t eat it. Either way Bruce and Alfred won’t get mad!”

“Jason, you’re yelling,” Bruce stated, his voice low and gravely. “Lower your voice or you’ll need to leave the table.

Jason didn’t even know why he was yelling at the kid, but it felt good to get it out. A part of him was frustrated that the kid still didn’t see what he had here with Bruce – safety. Another part of him was irritated at himself for acting like a complete asshole hating this kid for no reason other than existing and taking up space. Realizing too late that this kid was just like him when he first came to live here, scared and mistrustful of adults.

Jason wasn’t done yet. There was one last thing Jason needed the kid to hear and understand about the way things worked with Bruce and Alfred. Something Dick actually told him when Jason first came to the Manor.

“No one here is going to make you do what you don’t want to do,” Jason emphasized, grabbing his crutch, and getting up from his chair. “But they won’t know what you want if you don’t fucking say something.”

He added that last bit.

“Jason, that is enough,” Bruce scolded, his voice loud enough to make the crying kid next to him jump and Jason flinch.

Before Bruce could tell him to go to his room, Jason was already making his way to out of the dining room.

“I’m sorry, Bruce,” the kid sobbed, his breaths hitching, while Bruce continued to examine the hives on his face and neck. “I’m so sorry for making a scene. Please…please don’t be mad. I’ll…I’ll do better. I promise.”

The last sentence was said in a whisper, but Jason heard it loud and clear. It felt like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t get out of the dining room fast enough. If only his stupid leg would let him run. He made his way out of the dining room and into the hallway. He leaned against the wall taking deep breaths.

What kind of parents did this kid have that he was scared of adults and knew nothing about his own food allergies?

Jason saw the signs once he had started to pay more attention. The obvious signs of abuse. They were right there at every meal, every encounter, plain as day, but Jason was too preoccupied with his own paranoia of being replaced, and blinded by Tim’s rich kid status and upbringing to think that someone of his background was being mistreated by his own parents.

Jason was an asshole.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as Alfred walked briskly passed him into the dining room with the two epi-pens for Tim. Jason proceeded to head for the stairs.

Jason made it as far as the bottom of the stairs. He sat down on the steps and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the banister. The familiar throbbing of a migraine radiated from his left temple to the back of his head. After a while he heard familiar footsteps approaching him. It was Bruce.

“How’s the kid?” Jason asked, squinting at the harsh light of the chandelier above him.

“The epi-pens helped. Alfred is monitoring him in one of the downstairs bedrooms,” Bruce answered, sitting down on the step next to Jason. “Leslie is on her way to check on him.”

“Good,” Jason replied, nodding his head. “That’s…that’s good.”

They sat there on the steps in companionable silence. Jason could feel a lecture coming from Bruce. The migraine made it hard for Jason to care. Right now, all the fight in him had left.

“You can’t yell at him like that again, Jay,” Bruce warned, breaking the silence. “He didn’t deserve that from you at all.”

“I know,” Jason groaned, leaning his head against the banister again. “And I didn’t mean to yell, but the k-,“ Jason stopped himself, the kid had a name and he should probably start using it. “Tim needed to hear it. I’m not sorry for what I said.”

“You need to be nicer to your brother, Jay,” Bruce sighed, his shoulders sagging in exhaustion. “We need to make him feel welcome here.

Brother.

Jason let the word wash over him. He hadn’t really allowed himself to think of Tim in that way even though it was obvious that he’d be staying at the Manor permanently. It was all too much for Jason to think about at the moment.  

“Bruce,” Jason breathed, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead. “I don’t want to talk about him right now. My head is killing me.”

He knew he needed to talk to Bruce about Tim, but he couldn’t do it tonight. Right now his throbbing head wouldn’t let him think straight.

“Okay get some rest,” Bruce suggested, brushing Jason’s bangs from his forehead. “We definitely need to have a conversation. We’ll do that in the morning when you’re up for it.”

The next morning Jason took his time making it to Bruce’s study.

He had most of the morning to think about what he was going to say to Tim and Bruce. Jason wasn’t sure if he’d actually have the guts to admit out loud certain thoughts that had been rummaging around in his brain the last few weeks. Especially the big one concerning Robin.

Would Bruce take Robin from him and give it to Tim?

Before Jason realized it, he was in front of Bruce’s study. The door was opened. Bruce had always told Jason to feel free to come inside if the door wasn’t closed. His door hadn’t been opened in the months before Tim came to the Manor. Jason peeked inside from the doorway.

Bruce looked deep in thought as he perused over various papers from different file folders stacked on his desk. Jason was starting to have second thoughts. 

“Hey Jason, what can I do for you?” Bruce asked, not looking up from what he was reading.

It always weirded Jason out when Bruce knew it was him without even looking at him. It was likely the squeaking sound from his crutch that gave him away.           

“You look busy,” Jason observed, giving Bruce an out and hoping that he’d take it. He turned to leave. “I’ll come back.”

“I’m not busy, have a seat,” Bruce acknowledged, motioning to the sofa. He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He closed the file folder he was reading, stood up from his desk chair, and stretched. He soon followed Jason to the sofa. “How’s your head, kiddo?”

“Better. I think I just needed to sleep it off,” Jason answered, sitting down and leaning his crutch against the arm of the sofa. Once he got a closer look at Bruce he could see dark circles under the man’s eyes. “Have you been here all night?” Jason gestured to Bruce’s desk.

“Pretty much. Though I did spend some of the night looking in on Tim,” Bruce sighed, sitting down on the sofa with Jason and rubbing his tired eyes.

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s much better, just tired. He’s back in his room if you wanted to go see him later and talk.”

Jason nodded. It was Bruce’s way of telling Jason that he needed to apologize to Tim. He had planned on visiting Tim after this, though he’d understand if Tim wasn’t up for it considering the way Jason yelled at him last night.

“Anyway, I’m just trying to see if I had missed something in any of Tim’s records,” Bruce continued, leaning back on the sofa. “They’re all pretty vague and don’t go back that far. There aren’t any details about any known allergies or yearly well checks, no documentation about any allergy testing except the most recent one that revealed an allergy to almonds. His immunization record stops at 5 years old.”

“But his parents have money, right? If they live in this neighborhood,” Jason snapped, folding his arms. “How could they just not take him to the doctor?”

“You’d be surprised by the priorities some people have in this town,” Bruce criticized. “Sadly, their children are not on the top of that list.”

Jason shook his head. It didn’t make any sense to him. Tim’s parents had money. Maybe not as much money as Bruce, but they could afford to take Tim to the best doctors for yearly check-ups and specialists to help him with his allergies. Instead, they chose to prioritize their jobs and lifestyle instead of their kid.

“Is that the reason he’s living here with us now? Because his parents didn’t take good care of him?”

“Among other things, yes,” Bruce answered. “Tim’s home life wasn’t great. From what little he told me his parents left him home alone for extended amounts of time at a fairly young age. For his safety and wellbeing, it was necessary for him to be removed from his parents. He needed a home with stability and most of all a family. I felt that we could be all of that for him.”

Jason’s shoulders dropped hearing all of this from Bruce. Tim was a lonely and abused kid, just like Jason had been. Bruce opened his heart and his home again to a boy in need. It now all made sense why Bruce had been spending so much time with Tim. He wasn’t trying to replace Jason. He was trying to make Tim feel at home; just as Jason should have been doing instead of slamming doors in the poor kid’s face.

“I realize now that the timing of his arrival was awful, and I’m sorry,” Bruce continued, interrupting Jason’s thoughts. He placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder and squeezed it. “I know this type of major change was the last thing you needed while you are still recovering.”

Jason nodded. He leaned his head back on the pillows to process everything Bruce had just said. Bruce wasn’t wrong, the timing of Tim’s arrival did suck as it played on Jason’s already frayed emotions. But after last night it made it easier to understand Tim’s sudden placement with Bruce.

Bruce saw a kid in trouble and did what came naturally to him. He did the same for Jason four years ago, of course he would do the same thing for Tim. Jason rubbed his face harshly. He felt like an idiot for not making this connection much sooner. Bruce had reached out to be Tim’s family, just like he had done for Jason, because Tim needed a family. Bruce didn’t need another kid.  It was all about helping a kid in need.

So, he’s not here to replace me.

“What? No, Jason, I would never do that– what made you think I would –,” Bruce stammered, his wide eyes searching Jason.

Oh shit.

Jason didn’t mean to say that out loud.

But before he could think of something else to say, all the thoughts that had been festering in his brain since Tim had arrived came pouring out of his mouth.

“– because you weren’t talking to me. I thought you were still pissed at me for running away. And when Tim came you were spending all your time with him that you used to spend with me,” Jason blurted out in quick succession. His vision started to blur with tears. He really didn’t want to cry, but the tears were already flowing down his cheeks. “and – and maybe I thought that you liked him better because – because he’s a good kid with perfect manners who never talked back or complained, and he’s not – not a mouthy screw up like me who messed everything up.”

Jason’s eyes widened as his brain caught up to the words that had just come out of his mouth. Every thought and fear that he had been dwelling on these past several weeks came out faster than he could contain them. There was no taking it back now.

“Jason, you’re not a screw up and you didn’t mess up anything.” Bruce affirmed, gently pulling Jason into a hug. Jason held on to Bruce like a lifeline, his tears continuing to fall. “Son, you didn’t mess up anything.”

Jason shook his head, but who was he kidding. He made a pretty big fucking mistake that almost got him and Bruce killed. How is Bruce not furious with him?

“It’s true that choices were made by both of us, good and bad and things took a serious turn, and – and for a second I thought I’d lost you,” Bruce sniffed, breaking the embrace to look at Jason. “But I didn’t. You survived and I’m so grateful every single day that you are here with me.

Bruce moved his hands to cup Jason’s face. He gently wiped away the tears from Jason’s cheeks with his thumbs. Jason kept trying to calm his breaths but they were still hitching with every sob. Why couldn’t Bruce have said all this to him sooner?

“I’m so thankful I get to watch you grow and see the person you will become,” Bruce continued, embracing Jason again and rubbing soothing circles on Jason’s back. “I’m so proud that you’re my son, and I love you just the way you are so please, don’t think for one second that I would ever want to replace you with someone else.”

There was still something that Jason needed to know from Bruce. A question he needed answered because he was tired of the subject being avoided and ignored. He was ready to take responsibly for his actions. He just needed Bruce to be straight-forward with him.

“Are you still mad at me?” Jason stammered, his bottom lip trembling. “About Ethiopia? It’s my fault –,”

“Oh, Jay, lad, no,” Bruce interrupted, his shoulders sinking. He hugged Jason tighter resting his cheek on the top of Jason’s curls. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I made you think that I was ever mad at you.”

Jason straightened in surprise at the words ‘I’m sorry’ coming from Bruce. Not that Bruce wasn’t capable of apologizing, but did Jason deserve it? It felt misplaced. He was the one that ran away and got himself in trouble. He was the one that nearly got himself killed and needed rescuing.

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” Bruce continued, interrupting Jason’s thoughts. “I blame the people who hurt and betrayed you. I’m mad at myself for not giving you the answers you needed at the time that you were seeking them. I feel responsible for making you think that you had to go halfway across the world in search of those answers. I’m angry that the one person who should have cherished you for the gift that you are betrayed you to a madman.

“I allowed my anger toward them to fester and instead of talking about what had happened in Ethiopia with you, I internalized it. I’m sorry, Jason,” Bruce apologized. “I am so sorry for pushing you away at a crucial time when you needed me; that will never happen again. Understood.”

“Understood.”

Jason blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. He wasn’t expecting Bruce to say all of that to him, but it was a relief to hear that Bruce’s anger wasn’t because of him. It felt like an invisible weight had been lifted from Jason’s shoulders. Bruce wasn’t mad at him, and he didn’t blame Jason for what had happened in Ethiopia.

“I’m so grateful that you’re alive and here with me,” Bruce repeated, pulling Jason in for another hug.  

They still hadn’t discussed Robin, but right now Jason felt that Robin could wait.

“I love you so much, Jason.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

Later that afternoon Jason headed to Tim’s room. Jason still wasn’t sure what he was going to say to Tim. The kid was likely scared of him now from all the yelling that had happened last night. He couldn’t blame the kid if he now hated him. Jason kind of deserved whatever attitude the kid gave him.

Jason took a deep breath before knocking on Tim’s door.

“Who is it,” a faint voice answered from inside the room.

“It’s Jason. Can I come in?”

“Yes,” Tim answered almost immediately.

Jason wondered if Tim had ever said no to anyone. He felt it was best to give this kid a way out just in case he’d rather be alone.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel up for visitors,” Jason added, still not opening the door. “I can come back whenever you’re up for it.”

“I’m okay, you can come in.”

Jason opened the door and hoped the smile on his face looked genuine and didn’t scare Tim. It appeared that just him being in the room was enough to have the kid sitting up, hiding behind his knees and blankets.

“You’re not going to yell at me again, are you?” Tim asked, hugging his knees.

“No, Tim,” Jason laughed, making his way closer to Tim’s bed. “Not unless you give me a reason too.”

Tim’s eyes went wide.

“That was a joke,” Jason interjected quickly, before Tim burst into tears. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s try this again, how are you feeling?”

“Better, just tired. I’m not itching anymore, so that’s a relief. This one hit me harder than the almond reaction.”

Bruce had told Jason that it was only a few weeks ago that Tim had experienced anaphylaxis while home alone. This incident had prompted Tim’s removal from his parents and placed with Bruce.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Jason said, shifting his weight off his bad leg. It started throbbing in its standing prone position. “Allergic reactions suck.”

Just then the pain in his leg radiated from his hip to his knee. Jason couldn’t hide the hiss of pain that escaped between his clenched teeth. He looked up to see Tim looking at the long scar on his face and then his leg. Jason hated it when people stared.

“I think you need to sit down. You look like you’re in pain,” Tim suggested, gesturing to the armchair next to his bed. “This chair is really comfortable. I like sitting in it while I’m reading.”

“Thanks,” Jason breathed, trying to ignore the throbbing in his leg while making his way over to the chair. He noticed a familiar copy of ‘The Lightning Thief’ on Tim’s nightstand and picked it up.

“Bruce bought me the entire series. I just started it when I came here,” Tim explained. “I really like the story. I wasn’t allowed to read it before – before I came here.”

“Let me guess, your parents think gods and goddesses are evil?” Jason smirked.

“No, mother said ‘fantasy books are frivolous nonsense and not becoming of a future businessman.’”

Jason scowled. He was deeply insulted that the adults in Tim’s life had disparaged Jason’s first favorite genre of books. How dare they. It appeared that Jason had some work to do.

“I can recommend other fantasy books if you like the genre,” Jason offered, setting the book back on the nightstand. “When you’re feeling better we can go to the library. I’ll show you the fantasy section. It’s huge.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to do that,” Tim shrugged. “I know you don’t like me.”

Hearing Tim say it like that, so matter of fact and accepting, wiped the smile off Jason’s face.  It sucked to know that he had left such a horrible impression on Tim and that Tim was giving him a way out. It was a pre-emptive strike to avoid the disappointment of rejection.

Jason was all too familiar with this tactic – he used to do it all the time to Bruce and Dick when he first came to live at the Manor.

He wondered how many times Tim had been hurt by the people closest to him to easily brush off simple offers and attention from others. It didn’t help that Jason’s actions over the past few weeks solidified Tim’s assumption that Jason really didn’t want to spend time with him.

Jason needed to fix this fast.

“I know I don’t have to show you the library, but I want to,” Jason cleared his throat, stretching his sore leg. “We can make up for lost time, okay?”

Tim nodded.

“Is there anything you want to ask me?” Jason offered, sitting back in the chair. Tim wasn’t lying, this chair was comfortable.

Jason’s brain was screaming at him for daring to open himself up like this to Tim, a kid he hardly even knew. But deep down in his heart, Jason knew this was the right thing to do. It was a fair exchange. He couldn’t expect Tim to open up to him, if he didn’t budge himself.

“Um,” Tim hesitated, wringing his hands and looking anywhere but at Jason. He took a deep breath and returned his gaze to Jason. “What happened to your leg and –,“ Tim gestured to the left side of his own face which was the same place as Jason’s noticeably long scar.

Jason took a deep breath to steel himself. He knew this was going to be a question Tim would ask. He was hoping he wouldn’t ask this question right out of the gate, but he did open himself up to be asked any question. Jason wasn’t stupid enough to give Tim details but since this kid was his new ‘little brother’ Jason should probably be somewhat honest with him.

“It’s a long story, but the short version is I went and did something I shouldn’t have, and this happened,” Jason explained, gesturing to his face and his leg. “Can I ask you a question?”

Jason wasn’t sure the kid was going to answer his question once he heard it, but he had to give it a shot.

“Sure, what do you want to know?”

“I want to know why you didn’t say anything to anyone at dinner when you were having a serious allergic reaction?” Jason asked, maintaining eye contact and using his best Robin voice.

Tim stayed quiet and Jason realized that maybe he had pushed too far with his first question. Part of him definitely wanted to give Tim an out, but the other part of him felt it was important for Tim to answer the question. Jason strongly believed that Tim needed to know from him that Tim would never be shamed or scolded by Bruce for speaking up when something was wrong.

“Mother says,” Tim swallowed, fisting his blankets and then hugging his knees again. “That making a scene at the dinner table in front of guests is rude; under no circumstances should I bring any kind of attention to myself.”

Jason had to take a few deep breaths to calm his rage and quiet a few choice words he wanted to voice out loud about these absurd rules and Tim’s parents.

“Tim, you were going into anaphylactic shock,” Jason explained, keeping his voice level like he does when talking to victims as Robin. “Saying something is always okay. Especially if you are in danger, or you just don’t feel good. You wouldn’t have been making a scene. Bruce doesn’t care about decorum all that much just as long as you don’t say ‘fuck’.”

The last sentence made Tim giggle. It was nice to know he could make the kid laugh.

“You’re safe here, Tim. I know firsthand that concept will take some getting used to but believe me. This place is safe. Bruce and Alfred like having you here and so do I,” Jason confessed. “It’s true. I know I didn’t show it in the beginning, and I’m very sorry about that. So, if you want, we can start over.”

Jason held his breath, pleading internally that Tim would forgive him for how Jason had treated him. He truly wanted to start over with Tim. Jason was looking forward to having a little brother.

 “I’d like that”, Tim smiled. It was a smile that reached his eyes and brought out the dimples in his cheeks. “I just have one more question.” Tim hesitated, biting his lip. “It’s sort of a favor. It’s no big deal. You can say no if –,“

“Tim, I’m not going to say no unless you want me to move furniture,” Jason joked, trying to make Tim laugh. “What do you need?”

Tim looked longingly at the book sitting on his nightstand and then back at Jason.

“Can you read a bit of the book to me?” Tim begged. “I’m still dizzy from last night and every time I try to read, I get a headache.”

Jason blew out a breath and smiled. This request he had no problem saying yes to. He was just glad Tim didn’t ask him to leave.

“Of course,” Jason accepted, taking the book and thumbing to the page that had the bookmark. “How are you liking this book so far?

“I like it. I already liked Greek mythology, but this makes me like it even more. I don’t trust Luke,” Tim voiced off handedly. He looked at Jason nervously like he was waiting to be shut down for his opinion. “I know I probably should, but I don’t. I don’t care how much he’s helping Percy. There’s something not right about him.”

“I’m liking you more and more, Timmy,” Jason praised, giving him an easy smile. Tim definitely had a future in this family with those deduction skills. “Maintain that energy and sit tight. We’re gonna be here a while.”

Jason and Tim hung out more and more dividing their time together in the library, playing video games in the den, or hanging out in the kitchen baking cookies with Alfred. Jason helped Tim slowly come out of his shell around Bruce and Alfred. A red-faced Tim eventually confessed to Alfred that he hated fish, couldn’t tolerate the texture of carrots or brussel sprouts but loved broccoli, chicken, steak and pasta.

Having Tim around became the very thing Jason had needed all along. Hanging out with Tim kept him more active, which in turn helped the mobility in Jason’s leg. Even his physical therapist was impressed with the progress Jason had made over the past couple of weeks.

Jason liked being a little brother, but he liked being a big brother even more.

[ladywaffles]

From the prompt list: icemav + 6. patting the other’s head?? If it inspires

icemav + patting the other’s head

i do not know the meaning of brevity. send me a pairing and a prompt!

To be a fighter pilot, you have to have ego.

It’s not just a requirement, it’s an immutable law. It’s on the checklist of fighter pilot eligibility. One: candidate must be a United States citizen of sound mind and body. Two: candidate must have a four-year degree from an accredited educational institution. Three: candidate must have ego the size of the Grand Canyon and the guts to back it up.

Fighter pilots are young, good-looking guys who grow into stately, well-tailored men. Elegant. Gentlemanly. Airs of class that have since ebbed away in the general population, but which find a home in the handful of officers who call themselves naval aviators, and they wear them damn well.

Ice has always been particular about his appearance; it’s hard not to be painfully aware of it, with twelve years of detentions earned for uniform infractions at elite private schools and four years of the Naval Academy bearing down on him. He holds it together through the six months of hellish diagnoses it takes for the doctors to figure out what’s making him sick (cancer), where the cancer is (his lungs), and where it metastasized to (his throat). There’s never a hair out of goddamn place through the whole endeavor. But when they finally figure it out and get him on a chemotherapy plan, the pristine picture of the Iceman falls apart.

His tan is the first to go; if he’s being honest, it was already on its way out. It’s been nigh on ten years since he was last in a cockpit, and trading his F-14 for another stripe on his sleeve meant he hardly saw the sun in his cramped offices. Maverick used to tease that he looked like a vampire, losing the California bronze that’s been embedded in his skin since he was old enough to walk. Jokes like that are far and few between now that it’s no longer the job that’s draining his color, but his own body.

In the end, it’s easy to let the tan go. What really gets him, what really hurts, is when his hair starts falling out. Iceman has impeccable hair. The sun rises in the east. The facts of life. He puts off shaving it as long as he can, because yes, it’s just hair, and yes, it should grow back—the doctors assured him it would probably grow back—but dammit, he’s a fighter pilot, and he has his pride.

He sulks about it for weeks: gently combing his hair, putting as little product into it as possible so as to prolong the life of the strands that remain, taking shorter showers to reduce the likelihood of tufts of blonde falling out and running down the drain.

Maverick is solid at his side, his own hair dark as the day they met. In the deepest parts of his heart, he hates Maverick just a little bit for it. The asshole doesn’t even have the decency to be going gray yet, and here Ice is losing it all.

But then Maverick will tell him he passed his driving test and got a proper driver’s license so he could drive Ice back and forth from his appointments so Ice wouldn’t have to ride in a smelly taxi on the way home when he’s already starting to feel nauseous, or he’ll smile at Ice when he gets home and say, “Hey, I called up Wolf and he found that baked potato soup recipe from that place we ate at in ’96,” or he’ll sit at Ice’s side at two in the morning on the bathroom floor when the vertigo has Ice kneeling at the altar of the porcelain throne, even though he has to be at the base at five-thirty to do briefings and pre-flight checks, and Ice can’t remember why he was annoyed about Maverick’s hair at all.

Maverick drives him to his next chemo appointment. He sits in the waiting room, perusing the latest copy of People Magazine. Maverick hates People Magazine, but there’s not much else the hospital waiting room can offer in terms of salient literature, so People Magazine it is.

Ice goes back for his chemo treatment. Phil, his technician, doesn’t say much as he putters around the room, hanging IV drip bags here and flipping switches on medical equipment there. When Ice is all hooked up, they chat about inane things. Phil recounts his daughter’s swim meet. Ice responds with tales of his own swim meets, back at the Naval Academy. Phil says his son signed up for flag football, but God bless him, he’s shit at the sport. Ice promises that he’s not going to get much better at it, if he sucks this much at it now; he’s got his own scars from high school to prove it.

Phil unhooks him from the infernal treatment and books him for an appointment in two weeks. Maverick puts down People Magazine—a different issue than he was reading before, Ice notes—and drives them both home. He helps Ice into the living room and lays him down on the couch with the quilt that Carole made for their sort-of-fifteenth-anniversary. He kisses Ice on the forehead and goes to the kitchen to start dinner, and Ice is out like a light.

When he wakes up again, the sky is a dusky gray. It’s just past sundown. Maverick let him sleep for hours.

“Mav?” he calls out. Ice pushes himself up off the couch, his elbows creaking as he goes. “Maverick?”

“In here!” Maverick replies from the guest bathroom. “I’ll be just a second!”

Ice hums and goes into the kitchen. There’s a pot on the counter, but it’s not one of theirs. He lifts the lid; savory chicken congee, with ginger root and scallions. The Reyes’ must have dropped something off while he was asleep.

“Oh, yeah, Martin came by with some soup,” Maverick says behind him. “He says there’s no better cure than his wife’s arroz caldo, not even your mama’s chicken noodle soup.”

Ice puts the lid back on the pot. He turns to Maverick, ready to bear all of his weight down on his partner, because chemo is a bitch and he feels exhausted just standing here in his own kitchen—

—And flinches.

“What the fuck did you do to your hair?” Ice cries. Maverick cracks a grin, his signature Colgate smile.

“Do ya like it?” he asks.

Like it? Ice reaches out for his head, and Maverick leans in. He runs his hand over Maverick’s scalp, feeling the smoothness of his skin. He passes over the whole landscape once, twice, his fingers tripping over the tips of Maverick’s ears and the nape of his neck, as if he’d find something there like a magician performing a sleight of hand, but there’s nothing there.

“It’s all gone,” Ice laughs, somewhat hysterical. “It’s gone, it’s gone! What did you do? What the fuck did you do!”

Maverick shaved all of his thick, dark hair off. All of it is gone. All of Maverick’s damnable, doesn’t-have-the-decency-to-go-even-a-little-salt-and-pepper hair has disappeared.

Maverick smiles, teary himself. “Yeah, babe, it’s all gone.” He takes Ice’s hands in his and holds them tight. Ice tries to fight his own tears, but they’re doing what they please.

“Mitchell, what the hell?”

Maverick laughs. “C’mon, Kazansky, give me some credit. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you worrying about your hair falling out.” He cups Ice’s chin with one hand, looking straight into his eyes. “I thought you’d be less scared of it if we did it together.”

“Maverick,” Ice starts.

He doesn’t know where to go. It’s a grand gesture, that’s for sure, and if fifteen-odd years of knowing Maverick have taught him anything, it’s that you cannot always listen to what Maverick Mitchell says, you must only listen to what he does.

“Maverick,” he says again.

“Ice,” Maverick replies. “Let’s eat. And when we’re done, we’ll call Slider up and tell him what I did, and you can make as much fun of me as you want—for tonight only!—and we can talk about what you want to do next.”

They end up eating dinner in the bathroom. Maverick takes bites of his congee in between bouts of shaving off Ice’s hair as Ice huddles in the tub, ducking his head keep anything from falling into his own bowl. When they’re finished, they cram next to each other in Ice’s office and call Slider on Skype. His laughter is piercing through the laptop speakers and echoes down the hall.

And when Slider arrives ten days later, to, “Make sure Mitchell isn’t leaving you to fend all for yourself, I mean does he even know how to make a proper chicken noodle soup,” he knocks on Ice and Maverick’s front door sporting a grin and a freshly-shaved head.

Fighter pilots might have egos, but they’re a fiercely loyal bunch, too.

[yuyusuyu]

the heavenly stars between us

pairing. astronaut! kang yeosang x astronaut! gender neutral! reader

synopsis. you can only hope to see him again in your dreams and hope for good news every time you wake up

genres/aus. space au, kind of? star crossed lovers, established relationship

warnings. none! reader is just very sad because they miss their lover, but there shouldn't be anything to be wary of. if there is, please let me know!

rating. sfw

wc. 3.4k

a/n. FIRST WORK OF THE YEAR 🙌🏼 the flow is a little odd (?) which i aimed for but the ending is a little rushed... yikes... also this was inspired by interstellar because thats my favorite movie and its so good and yea.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! it helps with not getting shadowbanned

YOU HUM QUIETLY, STIRRING THE LIQUID INSIDE OF YOUR MUG ABSENTMINDEDLY. your attention isn’t really on anything in particular; well, not like you’d really have anything to think about when there's nothing here. your eyes trail over to the coffin-like contraption that holds the co-leader of the expedition, choi jongho, through the security camera. you turn away from the screen just as small, repetitive thuds echo in the spacecraft, only growing louder as it comes closer. you don’t look up and instead look out the window, staring at the two closest planets that sit on opposite sides of your ship. you take a sip from your mug when a voice rings out.

“it’s nearing ten. you should head to sleep, captain l/n.”

“i’ve told you to just call me captain y/n or just by my name, TEEZ,” you mumble, your coffee leaving a dull ache in your throat. “and time doesn’t really matter when you’re in space, does it? i’ll head to sleep when i’m tired.” there’s no response from the rectangular robot, so you glance and find it next to you. “TEEZ…?”

“your psychological appointment is in a week, captain. however, as you are set to enter cryosleep before that, would you like to have it now?”

“...sure.” you sink into your seat and hold the edges of your blanket closer to you, lifting your legs and holding them close to your chest all the while your free hand cradles your mug.

“how are you feeling?”

you bite back a scoff, glance at the rectangular piece of metal next to you and look back out the window again, this time focusing on the planet that sits to the right of the ship, a couple of hours away. “well,” you swallow the lump in your throat and sigh, “i’ve been better. can’t say i’m bad, either. i’m just in the middle.”

“do you still have hope?”

hope.

do you… still have hope?

hope that… you’ll get to see your friends again? see him again?

“i, uh, don’t actually know.” the words leave a bitter taste in your mouth and tears prickle the corners of your eyes. still, you blink them away and let out a shaky breath. “i don’t know if i still have hope or if i should have any at all.”

the robot whirs. “well, i can’t say i understand you, captain. afterall, i’m just a robot.”

you snort, “thank you for pointing out the obvious, TEEZ.”

“you're welcome, captain l/n.” TEEZ moves to stay on your other side, inserting a sliver of itself into the controls. the ship turns around, the two planets no longer visible and the wormhole behind the ship coming into sight, the one that brought you all there.

the one that could take you back to your solar system.

“you know,” you hum with the mug pressed to your lips. “captain kim would have threatened to have your humor settings changed. he doesn’t really appreciate your sarcasm, remember?”

“captain kim isn’t on this spacecraft, captain.”

yes, captain kim hongjoong, the leader of the HALA expedition, isn’t on this spacecraft. in fact, he’s piloting one of the pods in the first planet, the one on the left, with doctors park seonghwa and jung wooyoung. in the second planet, the one on the right, captain kang yeosang pilots the pod and is accompanied by doctors jeong yunho, song mingi and choi san.

how long has it been since you last saw them? you wonder that quite often.

“the wait never gets easier for you, does it, captain?”

“no,” your voice is quiet, so quiet that you barely even heard yourself. “it doesn’t.”

“captain, my data suggests that you should enter cryosleep earlier in order to sleep away the pain. well, that is what my data suggests, but my data with dr hong’s psychology input suggests that you should start accepting the fact that you may never get to see the rest of the team again.”

you only hum, “i should, shouldn’t i? enter my cryochamber, that is.” you don’t think you could ever think that—never seeing them and him again. it’s something too heavy for your mind and heart to even accept.

“yes, captain. it is only reasonable for you to do so as dr choi is due to wake up in a few hours.”

“is he?”

“he is.” 

your coffee is cold now, but you finish it regardless and stand up, heading over to your room. before you leave the control room, you stop, “wake me up when it’s time for jongho to wake up. i’d like to greet him. it would be nice… to see a familiar face after sleeping for so long, after all.”

“you’re the only familiar face on this ship, captain.”

your lips curl up into a smile, “i’ll have to get dr choi to change your humor settings, TEEZ.”

“you only jest, captain. have a good sleep.”

“thank you.”

“hi there,” you can hear a soft murmur next to you. you don’t think much of it and only stretch your hand out aimlessly. a chuckle follows and you feel a hand grab your own, fingers intertwining immediately. a thumb rubs over the expanse of your knuckles. “miss me?”

“no,” you grumble, “why would i miss you when i see you everyday, twenty-four seven? hm, yeosang?”

“okay, you do not see me twenty-four seven,” yeosang laughs quietly, tracing a finger over the bridge of your nose, the metal around it sending shivers down your spine. “i don’t recall ever seeing you in the bathroom while i pee.”

you open your eyes, a pout resting on your face while you scrunch your nose in disgust. “that’s disgusting. of course i wouldn’t be in the same space as you while you go about your business, yeosang. but you know what i mean!”

“do i really know what you mean?” the amusement in his eyes has you huffing and turning away from him while he laughs loudly this time. his hand grabs onto your shoulder, turning your body so that’s your lying on your back. yeosang rubs his thumb under your eye, smiling. it wavers for a second, twitching almost.

you lift your hand, a finger tracing over his eyebrow while a frown pulls your lips downwards. “what are you thinking about, yeo? you look worried.”

yeosang sighs, his hands cupping your cheeks. he stares into your eyes, slowly blinking. “i’ll miss you.” his head dips down and he rests his forehead against yours. you can see his eyes shaking—no, you can feel him shake. “i’ll miss you, y/n.”

a voice rings out and calls your name. you don’t pay attention to it and focus on yeosang.

“captain y/n.”

you blink your eyes open, the image of yeosang slowly fading away until there’s nothing but emptiness in front of you. with your back flat against the small and stiff mattress, you stare up at the ceiling blankly, taking in a deep breath and slowly exhaling.

“captain, dr choi is set to wake up in five minutes.”

“five minutes,” you repeat, “alright.” with that, you get out of bed and change into your uniform: a gray suit with black accents. it’s simple—you chuckle as you walk down the corridor and head into the cryosleep room, remembering how dr song complained about the uniform for cryosleeping was too plain and how dr choi told him to knock it off.

“did you remember something pleasant, captain?” TEEZ moves alongside you, stopping right in front of jongho’s cryochamber. the display pad shows his information in blue letters:

DR. CHOI JONGHO | CO-LEADER OF THE HALA EXPEDITION 2025 | PHYSICAL AGE: 31

SLEEP SCHEDULE: 15 JULY 2055 – 15 SEPTEMBER 2060

EXITING CRYOSLEEP IN 30 SECONDS

you crinkle your nose at the year.

it’s been so long already, and you remember it having been 2030 not too long ago. this is the time you currently have passed, but back on earth? you don’t even want to think about it. the cryochamber slowly opens up, frosty air coming out. TEEZ approaches the chamber, “welcome back, dr choi.”

jongho groans softly, his hand wrapping around the edge to support himself sitting up.

“it looks like you already need my help, doctor,” you tease, coming up and resting your hand against his back for additional support.

dr choi scoffs, “and it looks like you haven’t changed a single bit, captain,” he looks at with narrowed eyes, the scowl on his lips turning into a pretty smile, “how have you been, y/n?”

“meh,” you shrug, smiling back at him. “i could be better. how was your sleep, jongho?”

“meh,” he says, also shrugging. “it could have been better.”

you help jongho out of his cryochamber, wrapping his arm around your neck before slowly making it over to the lounge. you fill him on the way over there with what you saw and heard.

“so there’s still no news,” jongho sighs, thanking you as you help him into a chair. you nod in response and head over to the counter, opening the cupboards.

“absolutely nothing,” you mumble. “would you like something light to eat?”

“heavens yes,” he says, throwing his back. “i could kill for some food right now.”

“that’s not a very appropriate thing to say, dr choi,” comments TEEZ. the robot moves and sits next to you and away from the co-leader.

jongho deadpans, “TEEZ it’s possible for me to change your humor settings, correct?”

“that is correct, doctor.”

he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, narrowing his eyes at the robot. “you know,” he starts, “captain kim would have threatened to have your humor settings changed, TEEZ.”

you giggle just as TEEZ speaks. “captain y/l/n said the same thing.”

“well, that is to be expected,” jongho grins and waves his hand about, “we are childhood best friends. captain kang would have said the same as well. we are a trio, after all.”

you snort and agree, finishing up what you conjured for jongho to eat and handing it over to him. it’s silent, to say the least. besides the quiet hum from the HALA spacecraft, jongho doesn’t make a single sound as he devours what you’ve given to him. TEEZ remains by the table and you sit in front of jongho, your chin in the palm of your hand as your mind wanders off to your childhood days with him and yeosang.

“captain, it’s time for you to enter your cryochamber.” TEEZ moves towards jongho, two rods coming out from it, “would you like to send her off, dr choi?”

the look of surprise on jongho’s face would have normally made you laugh, but you really don’t have the spirit to do so. you’re so tired, your heart is pretty numb at this point. all you wish for is to sleep and hope that the next time you wake you’ll hear good news from jongho. for now, all you can do is offer him a smile. “i’m pretty tired after a whole year of being alone,” you tell him, “TEEZ and i think it would be best for me to go into cryosleep quickly.”

his eyes widened even more, “you were awake for a whole year?” jongho huffs upon your silence, “well… help me over there, TEEZ. it’s nice to go into a deep sleep with someone there.”

you feel bad for leaving jongho this quickly right as he’s come back when you’ve done a good job of at least staying there for an extra day or two before entering your chamber. but it’s so tiring, the constant reminder that it’s been more than twenty years since you last saw him and your friends. though you haven’t experienced the passage of time like TEEZ has, the knowledge of it hurts. it hurts a lot, and you know you should start losing hope that they’ll come back, that he’ll come back. you feel bad for leaving him, for wanting to be selfish and continue to hope. 

“it’s fine.”

jongho helps you get situated into the chamber. he watches you shiver from the water as you settle onto your back, staring right back at him.

“you don’t have to feel bad… i know you miss everyone. maybe one a little bit more in particular.”

you chuckle, “shut up, jongho. you’re making it sound like i only care about one person.”

he rolls his eyes at you, “you kind of do.”

“TEEZ, i’d like to sleep now!” you laugh. it’s the first time in a while that you’ve laughed.

“roger that, captain.”

TEEZ puts in your sleep schedule, a loud beeeep resonating afterwards. the top begins to close; you see jongho wiggle his fingers at you, “sleep well, y/n,” is the last thing you hear when you close your eyes.

jongho stares at the information on the display pad:

Y/N L/N | CAPTAIN OF THE HALA SPACECRAFT | PHYSICAL AGE: 32

SLEEP SCHEDULE: 15 SEPTEMBER 2060 – 15 NOVEMBER 2065

“see you later, y/n.”

“why now?”

yeosang doesn’t turn to look at you, his gaze still focused on the setting sun and its colors reflected on the lake’s surface. you can see the gears turning in his mind, trying to find the words to tell you what he wants to say. “...we should live now,” he says, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on top of the fencing, “we lost our youth and i… i want to regain it. with you.”

you swivel around and look at the cabin, blinking once and then twice before answering. “we’re finishing our training in a week.”

“i know.”

“and you still want this? we’re the top candidates of their next space expedition, you know.”

“i still want this.” yeosang finally turns around to face you, slowly sliding his arms around you and pulling you against him in a hug. “i want a life with you. i only want to fly with you… just you. none of that matters to me much anymore. NASA, being a pilot: it doesn’t matter.”

you hum, “really?”

“yes… and they have hongjoong, don’t they? and more pilots… they’ll be fine without us.”

life with yeosang at the cabin was nice. you two learned how to plant and take care of crops, learned how to row a boat out into the lake and you learned how to swim after yeosang knocked over the boat on accident, learned how to care for a puppy. he learned to fall in love with little things of life, you learned to love the peace and quiet instead of the chaotic city life you were used to.

maybe that’s why living your married life out in the cabin felt like a dream to you. it was too perfect, too satisfactory that you often worried about things that would take it away from you. yeosang always reassured you that wouldn’t be the case.

but then kim hongjoong showed up with jongho, and that’s how you found yourselves back with the gang on a trip to saturn.

“hi there,” you can hear a soft murmur next to you. you don’t think much of it and only stretch your hand out aimlessly. a chuckle follows and you feel a hand grab your own, fingers intertwining immediately. a thumb rubs over the expanse of your knuckles. “miss me?”

“no,” you grumble, “why would i miss you when i see you everyday, twenty-four seven? hm, yeosang?”

“okay, you do not see me twenty-four seven,” yeosang laughs quietly, tracing a finger over the bridge of your nose. “i don’t recall ever seeing you in the bathroom while i pee.”

you open your eyes, a pout resting on your face while you scrunch your nose in disgust. “that’s disgusting. of course i wouldn’t be in the same space as you while you go about your business, yeosang. but you know what i mean!”

“do i really know what you mean?” the amusement in his eyes has you huffing and turning away from him while he laughs loudly this time. his hand grabs onto your shoulder, turning your body so that’s your lying on your back. yeosang rubs his thumb under your eye, smiling. it wavers for a second, twitching almost.

you lift your hand, a finger tracing over his eyebrow while a frown pulls your lips downwards. “what are you thinking about, yeo? you look worried.”

yeosang sighs, his hands cupping your cheeks. he stares into your eyes, slowly blinking. “i’ll miss you.” his head dips down and he rests his forehead against yours. you can see his eyes shaking—no, you can feel him shake. “i’ll miss you, y/n.”

“i’ll miss you,” you repeat, closing your eyes as you savor the warmth that radiates from him. “i shouldn’t have focused on piloting so much. maybe i could have gone with you to abos.”

planet abos is one of the two planets that are closest to the HALA spacecraft. it’s a planet that is pale blue and has a ring and multiple moons surrounding it. it’s the planet that yeosang and your friends yunho, san and mingi will go to. the other planet, nolla 66, is a white planet with no moon. your friends hongjoong, seonghwa and wooyoung will go to that planet while you and jongho stay on the spacecraft to receive the first set of data they’ll send out. you wanted to go with yeosang, but as a pilot you had to stay while the other two pilots took on the task of flying their pods over to their respective planet along with a robot. TEEZ would stay onboard while TANN and ATEZ would go with a team.

yeosang chuckles, “well, it’s too late to think about that now.” he trails off for a few seconds, “...stay sleeping for as long as possible.”

you don’t know how fast or how slow time flows on those two planets. the plan for you and jongho, as per the three robots’ suggestions, is to sleep for a long time. if there is no sign of communication from either team, TEEZ would wake you up and you would stay awake for a month. at the end of your month, you would wake up jongho and then go back to sleep for five years. jongho would stay awake for a month and then go back to sleep for five years until the next time you wake up, thus starting the sleep cycle.  

you press a kiss to his cheek, mumbling, “i will.”

“captain l/n and captain kang, it’s time.”

yeosang instead falls on top of you, holding you as best as he can. “delay departure, TANN. delay it for a day.”

“captain kang—”

“delay it for a day,” he mumbles, “that’s an order from your captain. it won’t affect captain hongjoong’s departure, anyways.”

thuds can be heard, the sounding growing fainter the further TANN moves away from your room.

“yeosang, you have to go,” you chuckle as you card your fingers through his coal colored hair, “the faster the better.”

he pulls back, pressing his lips against yours quickly. “remember this,” he whispers, “even the heavens and the stars, absolutely nothing, will keep me away from you. i will come back because you are my air, the very reason why i live and will continue to live, you are my sun and star.”

one thing you hate about cryosleeping are the dreams. every time you enter deep sleep, all you ever do is dream about him. your dreams will always be about yeosang, and every time you wake up you have to remind yourself that he won’t be there.

so as the lid opens and the cold air rushes out, your conscience slowly reawakens and you tell yourself that yeosang won’t be there. you feel someone flick your forehead. you sigh as you come to your senses, groggily swatting the hand away. you’re surprised when their fingers wrap around your wrist. “hey, choi jongho,” you grumble, “you’re already picking a fight with me?”

a laugh.

the laugh has you opening your eyes quickly to stare up at the man you haven’t seen in a very long time.

yeosang beams down at you, still in his white suit. his hair is ruffled from taking off his helmet, and his cheeks are slightly flushed. when his twinkling eyes stare into yours, you choke up and start crying, holding onto his hand, the silver band of his ring shining in the light of the room.

“miss me much?”

you’re not sure how long you’ve slept for, but you know it must have been a year because your arms feel like jelly. yet, you push past the numbness and throw your arms around yeosang, crying more. he holds you like you’re made of glass: fragile and precious.

“i told you that i would come back to you no matter what.”

PERMA TAGLIST — @asjkdk @kodzukein @hrt4jeno @jeonride @lissiesykes @satsuri3su @atinytownclown @ad0rechuu @szakias @sanhwaism

[farfromstrange]

A small update from yours truly—and a little over sharing, so I’m putting it under the cut.

I've been in an awful mindset these past couple of weeks since I was diagnosed with PCOS. I haven’t talked about it yet because it’s hard for me to even think about. But the fatigue and the pain are getting worse again, even with the supplements I’m taking so far, and I wanted to share it with you so you know what’s going on. My doctor referred me to another doctor, but the earliest they could get me in was January. Until then, I have to deal with the symptoms on my own. I honestly thought once I knew what was wrong I’d get better, but learning that chronic illness is actually chronic is a really hard pill to swallow. It’s manageable once you figure shit out, but getting a doctor’s appointment these days and being taken seriously when you can’t stomach birth control is like the Hunger Games. You have to be really fucking insistent when you want to get things done.

I’m still slowly working my way out of my writer’s block, and I'm proud of myself for getting there. I'm trying not to set expectations for myself and just take it one day at a time, which is working so far. I think I’m writing more consciously now, too. As someone who needs to create because she has too many thoughts it can get frustrating to burn out so quickly, but at least I’m starting to have fun with writing again (thanks to the DDBA trailer I’m still not over and it’s been idk how long you guys feel me).

On a slightly better note though, and the reason I’m writing this is that I’ve been spending the past two weeks since my last post preparing for vacation. I’m flying to Croatia on Sunday for a few days, which I very much need after the year I’ve had so far. I’m taking the time to recharge before I have another module exam at the end of September. So, I probably won’t be posting a lot the next two weeks, BUT I am writing. I just don’t have enough time to edit anything to the point I can comfortably post it. I will, however, use the time I have to catch up on some reading and do some reblogging. It’s a good use of my flight time, plus my parents will be driving back so I’ll have twelve hours to kill in the car. And who knows, maybe I can finish at least one update before I have to head to the airport. Just wanted to let you know that I’m not gone again, I just really need that vacation before I have my last exam this semester. After that, I have almost three weeks of nothing, which means I'll be able to focus on myself, my health, and my writing.

I’m also writing this to tell you guys I will definitely be participating in Kinktober again this year, though I decided to put a little twist to it. Last year was fun, but I want to do it a little differently this time. I’m currently working something out, and the announcement will come sometime in the next couple of weeks!

Maybe a different climate will give me some more writing inspiration, too. Thank you guys for reading this far. Take care of yourselves 🤍

[rrenzwrld]

mama’s baby, daddy’s maybe

in which connie is a famous basketball player who has a secret baby with his best friend

this is part 6! the second to last part to mbdm :( and it’s kinda long bc it switches povs.. sorry y’all! but anyways, hope you enjoy! read the 5th part here and here, read part 4 here!

tags; @beautifulalienslimecroissant @neptunes1nterweb @yourrfavzxri @iikatsukii

After the outing, Connie and I had gotten closer in the following weeks. As busy as he was as the nation’s athlete, he still had enough time to set aside for me and Celest. The only reason he probably didn’t mind spending time with the baby was because she came along with me. It got to the point where it looked like he was growing attached and as far as he knew, he wasn’t her father. He thought he was just stepping in as an outside source.

Today I had took off for a doctor’s appointment for Celest where she’d be getting shots. I talked to Connie that morning and my plans slipped up so I should’ve known he would’ve wanted to go with me.

“But don’t you have a game?” I wedged my phone between my ear and neck as I buckled in a busy Celest.

“Yeah but that’s not until 7. Y’know, I just wanna be there for support.” At first glance, I didn’t see nothing wrong with it until I considered the situation again. Plus the fact that he was a celebrity and could be recognized going to a pediatrician with a random lady and her baby.

“I guess.. you gon meet me there?”

“Yeah just send me the address. I’ll get there before you anyways.”

I scoffed. “Boy you better not be tryna speed through these streets. I can’t afford your bail.”

“You won’t need to. Imma call you when I get there.” And with that we said our goodbyes and hung up before I started on my way.

And Connie was in fact there before me.

“Told you.” He smirked, making fun of the fact that I didn’t believe him. Celest was starting to fall asleep again on my shoulder but once she saw Connie, she woke up immediately.

He took his shades off as Celest wiggled out my arms to run into his. “At least someone’s happy to see me. Estrellita!” He calls her Estrellita, which means little star in spanish as I’ve been told and that’s interesting because the inspiration for her name came from his.. Constance. His name always reminded me of the stars and how beautiful they were as constellations on some nights, which is what I saw every time I looked at him and now see every time I look at my baby. I really need to find a way on how to break the news to him.

Once we got in and we’re now waiting for the lady to come in.

“Y’know you didn’t have to come, right? You probably had something else to do.”

Connie shook his head as he held onto Celest in his lap. “Nah, I like spending time with yall. Especially this lil girl.” He tickled her sides, which made her squirm.

I didn’t know what I was thinking to prompt me to say what was next. “Actually Connie, there’s—“ but luckily the pediatrician came just in time

She greeted us as she walked in and was surprised to see Connie in the chair because normally it’s just Celest and I.

She looked at me and then looked at Connie and Celest. “Are you dad?” My eyes widened. He was dad but he didn’t know he was dad. All Connie did was laugh because I could see that he didn’t know how to react.

“Nah, um… just a friend.”

“Oh!” She laughed. “You and the baby look so much alike I thought you were dad.” Connie slowly turned his head to look at me and I slowly turned my head in the opposite direction.

“Just probably been around her for too long.” The pediatrician started somehow laughing harder than before. I wanted to leave now for a multitude of reasons. But once I finished talking to her about Celest and the type of shots she’d be given today, everything was almost over.

“Does she like shots?” Connie leaned over to me after the pediatrician left to get the supplies for the shots.

I laughed a bit. “Who likes to get shots?” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m sayin does she cry and stuff?”

“She’ll cry but only for a lil bit. I got her if you can’t—“

“Nah, she cool. I got her.” The cart rolled in and Celest started to whine and get antsy. I hated when she’d get shots because I’d always cry with her, but it helped when Connie was here.

The first looked to be the most painful for her but she didn’t cry all that much but that was probably because Connie held onto her so tightly, making sure she wouldn’t wiggle around. After the first, the second floor one came and went so it was over by this point and Celest’s little thighs were decorated with pretty pink butterfly bandaids.

“See?” The pediatrician began putting the stuff away. “Wasn’t that bad, right?” She tickled at Celest’s tummy and of course she laughed even through her teary eyes. Connie on the other hand, looked like he was fighting back tears himself.

When we left, Connie had put his shades back on as he walked to my car to buckle Celest in.

“Thank you for coming Connie, I appreciated your… support.”

“Anytime.. you coming to the game later?” I didn’t know if I wanted to go through that hassle again. “I’ll find a way to get yall in—“

“It’s okay, we’ll just watch you on tv.”

He raised a brow. “You sure? Don’t wanna be there for the real thing?”

He made me giggle like a high school girl. “I have the real thing right here. And plus, Cee will watch you better at home anyways.”

“Alrighty pretty girl.. you better be watching.”

“Or what?” He was close enough to rattle the fluttering in my stomach. He stood in front of me for a while, gently biting on his lips but I couldn’t see his eyes because they were hidden.

He scoffed. “You’ll find out,” He pecked me on my cheek. “Bye, love you!” Before quickly getting into his car and speeding off. ‘Love you..?’

(📞switching sides) CONNIE

After the game, all I could think about was the events of today and what the pediatrician lady said. My mind was so set on that, I didn’t even go to the club like the team would always do after winning a game to celebrate. Everyone went to the club that night except for Onyankopon. Him and I were the closest on the team and he’s always had my back through everything since joining the team. When I was first starting out in the pro world, he was the one who didn’t mind helping me out. He was only a few years older than me but he was like a brother.

Instead of going to the club, we went to Jean’s house to hang out with him and Sasha. We had a few drinks and played a few games and even though it’s minimal, having the time to wind down with them was always enjoyable.

They knew all about my time with Celest and Chy’anne but they haven’t really asked any questions about them until now, which was strange. I even told them about today at the pediatrician’s and what I was feeling with that, thinking they’d just brush me off to talk about something else but…

“So she asked if you were the dad because you and the baby look alike?” Jean basically repeated what I told him.

“Yeah and I told her that I was Chy’anne’s friend—“

“Y’know she wouldn’t just ask something like that for no reason, right?” He had a point but I assumed he was bullshitting.

I narrowed my eyes at him “What you tryna say?”

“You got a picture of the baby?”

“Whoa—“

“Shut up,” He snapped at Sasha while reaching out for my phone. “I’m tryna see something..” I brought up a family picture from Chy’anne’s page and handed the phone over.

Once he was looking at the picture, Sasha and Ony leaned over his shoulder to look. Ony kept looking between me and the phone while Sasha covered her mouth with her eyes widened. Their dramatic reactions were making me nervous.

“What?”

“I don’t know if you’re just being dumb on purpose or what but…”

“That baby yours, G.”

“Gimme that shit..” I snatched the phone from Jean’s hands and my heart felt like it was gonna pump out my chest. I glanced at the picture before turning the phone off. “Stop playin with me. That baby look so much like Chy’anne, you can’t even really tell who—“

“Keep telling yourself that~” I don’t know why I felt so worked up if I knew Celest wasn’t mine, right? How could she be?

“A blind person can see that’s your daughter, Connie.”

“Nah, fuck that. Chy’anne wouldn’t do that to me. I know her.”

“Do you?” My eyes met Ony’s. “A person can change a lot in two years.” Again, a point was made but it wasn’t nearly enough to convince me. To me, the idea of her daughter being mine was a crazy idea because I knew the type of person she was and I knew she wouldn’t keep such a thing from me for so long.

“And why do you think she’d do that?” Jean added.

“I don’t know, maybe she was going through some shit or something.”

Jean rolled his eyes. “Obviously, but maybe she had a reason why she hid the baby from you.”

I had to laugh a lil bit because it was getting ridiculous now. To the point where I might have started feeling paranoid. “I’m telling you, that’s not my baby. Love her to death but she’s not mine to claim. If she was really my child, I’m sure I’d know about it by now.”

Jean sighed like he was frustrated that I wasn’t believing them. I chose not to believe them because I know how I’d feel if that really was the case and I just didn’t wanna face my feelings if that was a possibility.

“What happened two years ago?” I didn’t know why Jean was asking a question he knew the answer to.

“You know what happened—“

“Wait what happened two years ago?” Ony stopped me. “You just told me you and the girl were friends, you didn’t tell me y’all had history and shit.”

“Basically,” I dreaded telling this story again so I just summed it up. “Her and I were real close. Best friends since diapers and she’s always supported me because I played ball but she stopped talking to me right before I was drafted. Haven’t talked for two years since then until now.”

“Damn.”

“You’re missing something, Connie.” Sasha spoke up but I was confused.

“How you gonna tell me what I’m missing in my story?” Jean and Sasha exchanged looks. My mind was searching for what they were trying to remind me until I finally realized it all in a few seconds. It was like everything came rushing back all at one time. I then recognized the event as the night that changed everything. I guess I had completely shut down because someone had to get my attention a few times.

“You remember now?”

I nodded and tried swallowing the dry knot in my throat. “Yeah, we had sex. Right before I was getting ready to go to California. I remember it being an issue because we were friends until.. we did that. And then her sister told me she was sick and stuff but I didn’t pay attention to it at the time.”

“And maybe, just maybe,” Jean raised his hands. “She was sick because she was just finding out she was pregnant.” Now that I remembered everything, what Jean said made sense and I’d only find out the real truth if I asked her up front.

“Okay but, why would she keep a whole baby from me for two years? Why would she do that to me?” Anger, frustration, confusion and everything in between started to rise inside of me but I tried brushing it off. Although I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, the fact that we potentially had a daughter together that I didn’t know about and that I could’ve been there for, made me feel betrayed.

“See, that is what I don’t know. Up to you to figure out.” Sooner or later, that is what I aimed to find the answer to

she WILL tell him in the next part, i PROMISE😭 and everything will unfold for the lil finale, just stay tuned <3

[atinylittlepain]

Firehouse Harrington - Chapter 8

fireman!Steve x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

Steve is trying to get better. She is trying to move on.

warnings | 18+ angst, mention of alcoholism, therapy talk, sad times folks

a/n | I dedicate this chapter to all of the asshole neuro grad students I have dated, your douchebaggery is astonishing and inspiring lmao

song for this chapter: Rapt by Karen O

......................

“Well, how did this past week go, Steve?”

“Um, better– I think.”

“That’s good. How was it better?” He tries not to roll his eyes at that, but still lets out a huff, sinking further into the sofa.

“I, um, I’ve been doing the mindfulness stuff? Every morning, like you said. And I’ve been doing the writing stuff in the journal you gave me.” Doctor Staub nods at that, lightly smiling.

“I’m glad to hear that. But, you know, those things I assign you to work on are only good if they help you make real change in your life.” Steve sighs and Staub raises a brow at him.

“So, what kind of changes have you made, Steve?” He huffs, but takes a deep breath, something he hates to admit works really well in keeping him from lashing out.

“I’m still not drinking, at all. And I’ve been spending more time with my friends, making more of an effort.” Staub nods.

“Good, good. I know we had discussed friendship being a part of your values. It sounds like you’re working on being more in line with that. Have you given more thought to what we discussed last week?” Steve makes a low sound in the back of his throat, shaking his head.

“I mean– I have thought about it– I just don’t know what’d I’d even say– I just– she– I don’t know.” Staub hums.

“Have you tried writing a letter to her? You don’t have to send it, obviously, but it might be a good place to start.” Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. He had tried writing a letter in the fucking journal his therapist had given him, but he got all of three sentences down before he was dissolving into a mess of tears. 

“I just don’t think she’s gonna want to hear anything I have to say.” 

“Sounds like you’re jumping to conclusions, my friend. Look, I can’t make you do anything, but you did tell me your biggest reason for wanting to make changes was her.” Staub sets down his notepad, fixing Steve with a firm look.

“There’s no question, Steve. You fucked up– bad. But from what you told me, it sounds like there was real love there, and that deserves enough respect to at least make things right. I want you to keep thinking on it, ok? What would you tell her?” 

Steve still doesn’t like therapy, but even he has to admit that it seems to be helping. He’s been going for a while now, but hadn’t been trying until after that night at the hotel with her. It just so happened that the next day he had already had an appointment scheduled, and when he didn’t show up, Staub called him. Steve had started drinking the moment he left the hotel, and by the time his phone was ringing he was a pitiful, mumbling mess. But he had been just about shocked sober by what Staub told him over the phone that day.

“Look, kid, I don’t have a horse in this race. But it just seems like a real shame for you to be fucking yourself up like this when there’s really no need for all this bullshit.” No one had ever leveled with him so clearly. No one had ever been so certain there was a way out for him. So, Steve actually started trying in therapy. 

He has six weeks under his belt, but he still has a hard time thinking about that night. When he thinks about what he wants to say to her, all he knows is that sorry wouldn’t come close to covering it.

…

“Oh! Sorry about that, I–”

“Well, if it isn’t neuro’s golden girl. Did you have a good winter break?” She hasn’t seen Thomas since the night of the banquet, and, now running into him coming out of her advisor’s office, she can’t help but think that he looks even smarter dressed down in a crewneck sweater and levi’s. She offers him a smile, scoffing at his remark.

“If you keep calling me that, I’ll start getting a complex or something. But, um, my break was good, yeah. How was yours?” Her break was shit. She spent most of it between her dorm room and the lab, burying herself in preliminary research work and spending her nights listening to her Mazzy Star CD and crying. But Thomas didn’t need to know that. 

“Oh, you know, the usual. Went home for a bit, then came back a little early to get some work done. Speaking of, I heard you’re officially on board for next year. Congratulations, I can’t wait to see what you do.” She feels a blush spreading at his words.

“Thank you, I’m really excited– and also relieved– to be on board, as you said. I can’t wait to start working.” He grins, perfect teeth and a perfect dimple in his one cheek.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I already saw you starting to work in the labs over break.” Her face falls, embarrassed, but he laughs, pushing his glasses up his nose before smiling at her.

“Hey, your secret’s safe with me. But I admire that, you’re obviously a hard worker. I’d love to hear more about what you’re thinking about for your research– maybe over drinks some time?” She really hadn’t been expecting that, and can’t help but trip over her words a bit.

“Oh– I, um– I don’t know–” Thomas sighs, cutting off her floundering.

“Oh, shoot. I just put my foot in my mouth, didn’t I? Totally forgot about the firefighter boyfriend.” She’s quick to shake her head at his words ignoring the twist of a knife in her chest. His face lights up once again in hope.

“Um, it’s not that– we’re not– I’m not– not with him anymore.” Thomas raises a brow at her.

“No?” She shakes her head, letting out a sigh.

“It’s just– is that like– appropriate?” He lets out another laugh before fixing her with a crooked grin.

“Why? Because I’m on the admissions board?” She nods and he huffs, pursing his lips.

“Well, seeing as you’re already signed, sealed, delivered for next year, I’d say there isn’t a conflict of interests anymore. So, how about it?” Part of her wants to say no, out of reflex. But she manages to stop herself. It has been nearly two months after all. Maybe it’s time to move on. She tries her best to smile brightly at him.

“Um, ok, how’s this Saturday?” His dimple pops again as he nods, and she feels the lightest flutter in her chest, a welcome change from the dormant cobwebs that seem to have set up shop there. She digs into her tote bag in search of a pen.

“Here, let me give you my number and we can figure something out.” She brandishes the pen and is only a little surprised when he, without hesitation, tugs up the sleeve of his sweater and holds out his forearm for her. She finds her footing quickly, holding his wrist and scribbling her number out. He huffs out a light laugh as she finishes, both of them glancing shyly at each other as she steps back. He offers her one more flashy grin as he starts to shuffle backwards down the hall.

“Alright, golden girl. I’ll call you.”

…

She almost doesn’t answer the phone that night, already wavering on going out with Thomas, but when she does buck up enough to pick it up, she’s surprised by who it actually is. She’d recognize that gruff voice anywhere.

“Um, hey– hi. It’s me– um, Steve. I– how are you?” She’s honestly stunned. He hadn’t tried to call her at all since that night. A week after the incident at the hotel, she had returned to her dorm to find her friend waiting with a box of her things. He had dropped it off, no note or message or anything. She hated how much that had hurt. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hate him, even though she knew she should.

“Um, hi, Steve. I-I’m ok, yeah. How have you been?” She doesn’t know what to say, it feels like a thick swath of cotton has settled in her throat.

“I’m doing ok, yeah. Um, I was wondering if we could maybe talk sometime?” She hesitates to answer, her stomach twisting, but Steve presses on.

“I’m not asking you for anything, it’s just– it’s for this therapy thing? And, you obviously don’t have to forgive me, um– I’d just like to say my piece– if you’ll let me.” Now she’s really shocked. That he’s still doing therapy. That his voice sounds so unsure and timid. It’s a far cry from the Steve she had gotten used to. She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose to steady herself.

“Um, ok– I get that– do you wanna, like, get coffee?” She can hear the heavy sigh he lets out over the phone, can practically picture him raking his hand through his hair.

“I– yeah– thank you– that’d be great. When are you free?” She tells him she’ll have time Thursday afternoon and he tells her he’ll make that work, awkwardly going to hang up, but she stops him.

“Steve? I think it’s really great you’re still going to therapy.” He lets out a light laugh, his voice crackling over the phone.

“Yeah, I guess you were right about that, about a lot of things actually.” She doesn’t have time to think about what his words mean because he’s already saying a quiet goodbye, the click of the receiver jostling her out of her swimming thoughts.

Thirty minutes later, her phone rings again. She tries to not let guilt slither in as she makes a date with Thomas for Saturday.

…

Thursday comes before she’s ready. Her last class ran late, and she now has to hustle to get to the coffeeshop they had agreed to meet at. It’s one close to his apartment. She remembers how whenever they both, by some stroke of luck, had nowhere to be in the morning, they’d slink down the block to the shop, taking a close booth in the back and sharing breakfast. Perhaps uncharacteristically, Steve had an affinity for the crosswords in the daily paper, and they’d quietly work it over, hands brushing across the table. She has to physically shake her head of the memory as she keeps walking towards the shop, her heart seizing up the closer she gets.

He looks well, really well. She sees him before he sees her, tucked away in the same booth they used to share. He has on a navy sweater, sleeves rucked up under his elbows. He was always pretty to her, but now, he looks healthy, the typical dark circles under his eyes faded into barely there smudges, the only word she can think of to describe his hair is fluffy, perfectly flopped over his face and tucked behind one ear. When he catches her gaze, his eyes are clear, awake, a far cry from the cold stare he had fixed her with that night at the banquet. His lips crook into just a ghost of a smile, brow creasing. She muses that he looks just as nervous as she feels. As she makes her way over to him, he stands, smoothing his palms down the front of his jeans. She has to resist the urge to reach for him as she stands in front of him, and by the way his hands flex by his sides, she guesses he’s doing the same. He clears his throat before speaking.

“Hey, it’s good to see you. Um, thanks– for doing this.” She smiles, nodding lightly as they both sit down. She rests her elbows on the table, clasping her hands to keep herself from fidgeting from nerves.

“I’m glad to see you looking so well, Steve.” It’s her clinician’s voice, the one she uses in the hospital when she gets to interact with patients, and it doesn’t feel right using it on him, but she’s not sure what would be right in such a situation. He offers her a small smile and a low “thanks” wringing his hands where they’re resting across the table from hers. He seems to be having a hard time holding her gaze, his eyes keep darting down to the side of the booth. She breaks the silence.

“You said you’ve kept up with therapy? How is it going?” 

“It’s been good– um, better. Doc says I’m making real progress. I-I’m not drinking anymore– and I’m doing that meditation shi–stuff you wanted me to do. You were right– it, um, it really helps.” She smiles at that, tilting her head to catch his downturned gaze.

“That’s really great, Steve. It sounds like you’re working hard.” He shrugs, offering her half a smile.

“What about you? How have you been?” She sighs.

“Um, I’ve been doing alright. Working hard, but that’s nothing new. I, um, I got accepted. To IU for next year, so I guess I’m officially a grad student.” Steve nods at that, eyes darting up to hers only briefly before focusing back on his hands.

“You deserve it, probably more than any other student. Work so hard.” She knows it’s a sore spot, for both of them, so to hear him huff out even that means a great deal to her. Steve sits back in the booth, holding her gaze as he speaks. 

“So, I’m not expecting anything from you. I just ask that you listen to what I have to say– is that alright?” She’s stunned by his meek demeanor, the uncertainty in his expression, but she nods. Steve huffs, his shoulders slackening just slightly as he looks down to his side again before finally holding her gaze.

“It’s not enough– fuck, I know it’s not enough– but I want to tell you how sorry I am. Not just for that night– a-at the hotel– but for the way I treated you the whole time we were together–” his eyes dart back down to his side and she tries to crane over her seat to see just what it is that keeps pulling his attention, but his gaze has already focused back on her as he continues.

“The way I treated you was terrible– and, fuck– you deserve the world– um–” This time, when his eyes dart away again, she leans over the table and sees that what he keeps looking at is an open journal laid next to his lap, his obvious penmanship scribbled across the pages. She huffs, not quite sure what she feels at the realization that Steve had prepared something to say to her. When he looks at her again, worry is splashed across his features. She sits back, for a moment taking in the sight of this man who is so changed from what she remembers. There’s no simmering anger in his eyes, just clear anxiety. 

“Steve, I appreciate it, but you don’t have to use a script. We can just talk, ok?” He nods, lightly chewing on his lip. She sighs before continuing.

“Is it alright if I say something now?” He nods again, his eyes unwavering now as he looks at her.

“I know that you really hurt me, Steve. In more ways than one. And I also know that you carry a lot of pain with you, and I’m just relieved you’re finally talking to someone about it. I can forgive you, Steve. And I can be happy for you, that you’re obviously trying so hard to get better. And I also can never forget the way you hurt me. I think that’s going to stay with me for a long time.” It’s a therapy trick, from dialectical work that she had been studying recently, using “and” statements instead of “but.” She means it though, all of those things she said are somehow true at the same time. A heavy silence falls between them, Steve nodding at her words as he stares at his hands. His voice is a hoarse whisper that she can barely hear over the din of the coffeeshop when he finally speaks.

“I’m so sorry. You– you were everything to me– and I just wish I had treated you like it.” There’s nothing else to be said, not really. She lets out a long sigh.

“I should go, I have a shift starting soon. But, I’m really glad we talked, Steve. I hope you’ll keep taking care of yourself.” She doesn’t have a shift starting soon, but she knows she needs to get out of here before she does something she’ll regret later. She slips out of the booth, shrugging her coat back on as he stands. He stammers a bit, running a hand harshly through his hair before finally looking at her.

“Thank you– for everything. You, um, you really changed my life. And I’m just sorry I couldn’t be better for you.” Her heart catches at his words, and she’s moving before she can really think about it, wrapping him up in a hug that he clearly wasn’t expecting, his hands hovering lightly over her back. She breathes in deeply, the scent of him that she had gotten so used to, murmuring softly into his chest.

“Goodbye, Steve.” She’s quick to pull back from him, sniffing away tears that are threatening to spill over as she gives him one last smile, his expression slack in seeming shock at her actions.

She keeps it together the entire walk back to campus, but dissolves into sobs with the soft click of her door behind her.

…

“Red or white, what do you think?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, what was that?” Thomas smiles, laughing lightly.

“What would you like to drink? Are you more of a red girl or do you like the sweet stuff?” She smiles sheepishly at his question. Truthfully, she had no clue which she liked, most of the wine she had consumed up to this point had come in a box. She sighs, pretending to think on it.

“You pick. I’m not exactly a connoisseur.” He grins at that, glancing back at the menu before looking up to the waiter.

“We’ll do a bottle of the seventy-five merlot.” The waiter nods, taking the menu, and Thomas looks back at her with a crooked smile.

“It’s a nice red for beginners. You should be able to handle it, yeah?” It takes every fiber of her being not to roll her eyes at that, instead smiling lightly and nodding. She’s learning very quickly that Thomas is quite confident in himself, flirting dangerously close to arrogance, but she knows her mom would tell her he’s certainly too big for his britches.

She doesn’t want to be here, not really. It’s a swanky restaurant uptown, and she’s in her nicest dress (because Thomas had told her to wear something dressy) and all she wants to do is curl up in bed and think about Steve like she had the last two nights since they got coffee. But she knows she needs to move on, so she white knuckles her way into smiling and laughing at all of Thomas’ stories, making polite conversation. Although she doesn’t have to try too hard at keeping up a dialogue, Thomas seems fine to keep talking all on his own. Quite frankly, he won’t shut up about his research, something she finds funny considering he had seemed so excited for her to tell him about her work. 

“Yeah, it’s just a real lightning in a bottle type thing, you know? I’m just glad I caught my idea and pursued it, and now it looks like all my work is gonna pay off.” She smiles, swirling the wine in her glass. She’s decided she really doesn’t like red. Before she can give him some sort of expected response, however, a flashing light catches her eye, followed by the loud blare of a fire alarm.

The whole restaurant gets evacuated out onto the sidewalk. She’s just grateful she had half a mind to shrug her coat on before they all got shepherded out into the cold night. Thomas meanwhile, is less than enthused, scoffing and muttering about how he “can’t believe this, so ridiculous.”

And then a fire truck pulls up, and she can’t help the little kick her heart does at the sight. The throng of people is a bit too crowded together and all she can see is three firemen helmets walking into the restaurant, her shoulders slumping in dismay. It’s a calm affair, at least, the manager comes out promptly and lets the patrons know that there’s been a gas leak and they’ll unfortunately have to close for the night. She has to stop herself from laughing at the scrunched-up look on Thomas’ face, catching herself as she starts to see a way out of this already long night. Thomas sighs, bringing a hand to rest on her upper arm.

“Well, not exactly as planned. But would you like to come back to mine?” It’s entirely too forward, and confirms her hasty exit route.

“You know, it’s been really nice spending time with you, but I have a morning class tomorrow and I should probably just get home.” His grin falters just slightly, brow creasing.

“Um, ok, if you’re sure about that. Can I get you a cab?” She huffs, glancing around and seeing a payphone a little further down the block.

“Actually, I’m just gonna call my friend to pick me up. Save myself a little money, yeah?” His grin has completely dissolved now into something more like a grimace, but he nods.

“Alright, golden girl. I’d like to do this again, huh? Some time soon?” She nods, trying to keep her smile from melting off her face in complete resignation. She does her best not to flinch as he lays a kiss on her cheek, murmuring a low “good night” before he turns and heads off in the other direction, shrugging his coat closer around his figure. 

Once he’s far enough away, she sighs, letting out a low curse as she walks over to the phonebooth. She’s frustrated more than anything, at Thomas, but also at herself, that she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Steve. She leans against the wall of the phonebooth, waiting for her friend to pick up. But when the dial tone just keeps ringing, she huffs, slamming the phone back onto its receiver and shuffling back onto the sidewalk. 

The crowd has dispersed, the firetruck still there alongside the restaurant. She cranes her neck, looking for a taxi passing by, but with little luck.  What she hadn’t been expecting, although maybe hoping for, was someone calling her name. She whips around, and sure enough, it’s him. He has his helmet cocked on his hip under one arm, his heavy jacket hanging loosely open. Uncertainty is clear across his face as he says her name again like a question. She can’t help but laugh.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” The furrowed look on his face slackens a bit, enough for him to share a disbelieving chuckle with her. She steps a little closer to him, now seeing that those two young men, the same ones she met over Thanksgiving, are who he’s working with tonight as they load their gear back into the truck. 

“Are you– what are you doing out here?” She sighs, offering him a crooked smile.

“I, um, may have been getting dinner with someone at that restaurant before– well, it doesn’t really matter now.” Steve’s face sets in a deep frown, but he nods.

“Can I ask where your date went?” She laughs at that, toeing her shoe into the ground.

“I sort of ditched him. We didn’t exactly hit it off.” She hopes she’s not imagining the flash of something that skitters across Steve’s face at that, but it’s gone in an instant as he huffs at her words.

“Are you alright? Nothing happened, right?” It’s her turn to huff, shrugging lightly.

“I’m fine, just hungry. I didn’t even get a meal out of it, just a glass of really gross wine.” That coaxes a full smile out of him, and she hadn’t realized how much she missed seeing that, such a rare piece of Steve. He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous flutter seeming to run through him.

“Well, I mean, the guys and I are off duty now– we were gonna stop and get something on the way back to the station. You could come with us if you want? We can drop you back at campus too.”  She stutters a bit at the invitation. Every part of her wants to say yes, but every part of her knows she should say no.

“Oh, I couldn’t– I don’t want to– like, impose– you don’t have to–” He cuts her off with a gentle hand on her arm.

“I’d be happy to, really.” 

And so, she finds herself riding shotgun in a firetruck, stealing glances at Steve in the driver’s seat. He had relegated the other two men to the back before she could say anything otherwise. Definitely not how she had been expecting this night to go.

“What are you in the mood for?” She’s snapped out of her thoughts by Steve’s question.

“Oh, um, I don’t even know. I think just about anything would sound good right now I’m so hungry.” He hums, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“You eat lunch today?” She sighs, a shy smile as she tells him she hadn’t. He knows her too well, and had often gotten on her for breezing right over lunch when they were together. She had gotten worse about it recently, with all her work in the lab and without him reminding her. He just sighs, a slight smile quirking his lips.

“I guess some things don’t change. You must be starving, ba–” He clears his throat, stopping himself from saying whatever term of endearment she thinks he was about to call her.

“I think I know a good spot. Let’s get some real food in you, huh? Wash down that gross wine.” She laughs and is rewarded with another smile from him as his eyes briefly dart over to her. For the first time in a while, it feels like she can take a breath without it getting stuck in her chest.

…

“God, this was such a good idea.” Steve huffs a laugh around a bite of his burger, eyes crinkling as he looks at her where she sits in the passenger seat. She practically moaned when they pulled up outside the burger shop, the same one she had gotten takeaway from on Thanksgiving to share with him. Greasy bags of food in tow, when they pulled back into the station, Steve promptly handed the two men - Miller and Thompson - their orders, all but shooing them out of the truck. He had offered to drive her back to campus right away, but she had told him she’d rather eat with him, while the food was still hot. He didn’t need to know that wasn’t the only reason. So, to avoid the ruckus of a crowded fire station of middle-aged men, they stayed in the truck, eating around shared smiles and simple talk. 

She goes to dip a few fries in her milkshake, and Steve groans.

“I forgot you do that. So gross.” She snickers, happily chewing her fries.

“Oh please. You never even tried it. How do you know it’s gross?” He shrugs and shakes his head, but she’s already dipping a few more fries in her shake before holding them in front of his face.

“Just try it, Steve. C’mon.” He grumbles, but gives in, tentatively biting down on the fries. She doesn’t miss the way his lips brush her fingers. He chews slowly, eyes scrunched closed, before letting out a long sigh as he swallows.

“Yep. I was right. That’s gross.” She scoffs and rolls her eyes, but can’t help the grin spreading across her face as she looks at his smug expression. They hold each other’s gaze for just a beat too long, both of them looking away, focusing back on the remnants of their food. Steve breaks the silence first, clearing his throat.

“This is probably a stupid thing to ask, but can I know who you were going out with tonight?” She sighs.

“Steve–” He’s quick to shake his head, his hands up in surrender.

“No, I know– that’s a stupid question and you don’t have to answer.” She leans over the console slightly to catch his gaze.

“It’s ok, really. Um, I went out with Thomas Klein.” She can see the furrow settle between his brows, but she rests her palm on his knee, drawing his attention back to her.

“I went out with Thomas Klein, and it sucked.” His brows shoot up, eyes wide as he looks at her. She just nods.

“Yeah, he’s a grade A dickhead.” Steve’s face crumples again at that as he turns in his seat to face her.

“He didn’t try anything, did he?” She laughs, shaking her head.

“God, no. He just– fuck– he is so full of himself. I think it might actually be a personality disorder.” She’s got him laughing with her now, shoulders lightly shaking. He sighs as they both quiet down.

“Is it bad that I’m kinda happy you don’t like him?” She offers him a small smile, shaking her head as she sits back in her seat.

“Honestly? I don’t think I could like him even if I tried. Or anyone else for that matter. Fuck, Steve– I just– I wish– more than anything– that you hadn’t done that– that night at the hotel.” His face falls, eyes stilled on his hands in his lap.

“I think I wish that more than anything too.” A long silence settles between them until she finally glances at him again.

“Can I just– can I ask why? Why couldn’t you believe me when I told you there was nobody else– why couldn’t you believe what I told you about my research?” He huffs before meeting her gaze, a deep frown across his face.

“My, uh– my therapist says my brain is like a dog with a bone. Once it’s set on something, it has a hard time letting go of it. It was never you– I know you know that– I just– fuck– I felt so out of control around you.” He sighs, flexing his hands before continuing.

“I guess I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop– you were too good for me–” She goes to protest, but he shakes his head.

“You were too good for me– and I knew that and I knew that eventually you’d figure that out– a-and you’d leave, just like everyone else.” His last few words are a hoarse murmur that she barely hears. He clears his throat again.

“It was easier to get angry– it’s always been easier to get angry– so that’s what I did. And the way I treated you because of that– it fucking destroys me thinking about it.” Silence falls over them again. 

“I didn’t want to leave. I-I still don’t want to leave.” His eyes dart to hers in a flash, wide and questioning.  She shakes her head.

“I know it’s stupid– I should hate you for what you did. But I can’t. I still care about you, Steve. And it drives me mad that I can’t stop. But–” 

“But?” He’s leaning slightly over the console, lips parted as his eyes search her face. A few rogue waves have flopped over his eyes and she has to resist the urge to sweep them back. She lets out a long sigh.

“But, I don’t know how we could– how we could go on after that. I don’t think I can do that either– a-and I feel trapped in this– this limbo of wanting you so badly, but knowing I shouldn’t.” She slumps back in her seat, quickly glancing at Steve whose eyes look a touch unfocused, like he’s working through something just out of reach. He finally lets out a ragged exhale.

“What if there was another option?” She raises her brows, her head tilted as she waits for him to continue. 

“I mean– fuck, everything about us was a little sideways– wasn’t it? Even that first time at that bar…” He trails off and she can feel heat rising in her cheeks, remembering that night all those months ago. She shakes her head of the memory, focusing back on him.

“What are you saying, Steve?” He huffs, eyes scrunching shut before looking back at her, wetting his lips with the quick pink of his tongue.

“I’m saying– I’m saying I’d give anything to start over with you– to do it right.” She sighs, a deep frown settling across her face.

“Steve, you’re asking a lot of me.” He shakes his head, hand clenching against the wheel where it’s draped.

“I know– fuck, I know– but, losing you– it-it woke me up. I’m still fucked up– I won’t lie to you– but for the first time in a long time, I’m awake. I just want you to have me awake.” She opens her mouth, but promptly shuts it, unsure of what she really wants to say. She can see the pooling tears in his lashes in the dim light of the garage.

“You can’t hurt me like that again, Steve. I think I’d really break.” His face crumples as he takes a shuddering breath.

“I know– I’m so sorry. You don’t owe me shit– but if you gave me another chance– I promise you I’d– I’d rather die than treat you like that.” She huffs.

“Well if you do treat me like that again, I think I’ll have to kill you anyways.” The crooked grin she offers him sends them both into a clipped laugh, silence quickly consuming it. Steve is the first to speak.

“So, what does all this mean?” She shifts in her seat to fully look at him, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“It means we’re gonna take this slow. A whole lot slower than before. You’re gonna drive me back to my dorm and you’re gonna ask me out on our first date and I’m gonna say yes. And maybe I’ll let you kiss my cheek.” There it is, that big, bright smile of his that makes her heart roll over in her chest. His eyes are wide, eyebrows raised as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Ok, um– slow is good, yeah. Whatever you want.” She grins, bringing her hand over his atop the steering wheel.

“Well, I can tell you what I don’t want. Thomas fucking Klein.” Steve laughs so hard he snorts, a sound she had never heard before, a sound she never wants to stop hearing.

She lets him kiss her cheek.