#it was hurt/comfort and mostly just fluff

[yvesdoee]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ jujutsu kaisen fic recommendations ( sfw ! ) ft. gojo , geto , nanami , toji

hi ! :) these are my personal recommendations, might contain suggestive content but nothing too explicit. and these are mostly drabbles because it’s hard to find swf oneshots or series, i’m sorry :3 also most of the fics are fluff

╰┈➤ gojo satoru

✧.* the great war ( @satorulovebot ) got me FUCKING SOBBING THIS IS NOT OKAY. don’t read this in a good mood, it will ruin your day ( not in a bad way tho, this is so good, one of my favs on this app, dk why this isn’t popular )

✧.* how to fake date a doctor ( @lostfracturess ) i know there is a really suggestive content(no smut tho), but :( it’s too wonderful

✧.* i know you still think about the times we had ( @/saetoru ) angstyy but happy ending

✧.* we can dip, if you’re ready ( @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ) unrequited love trope is one of my favorites ….

✧.* yandere!gojo ( @gojoest ) i’m not usually into yandere stuff, but this drabble is really good

✧.* this is home ( ryowritten ) this is rb link because the original blog isn’t available, i’m sorry. but you should definitely read this

✧.* husband!satoru x pregnant!reader ( @sanemistar ) this is soo so sweet ;(

✧.* crybaby ( @suhtorus ) another sweet tooth rotting drabble

✧.* dad!satoru ( @cute-sucker ) aaand another one!

✧.* #needthis ( @kentwos ) this is not the title .. lol

╰┈➤ fushuguro toji

✧.* valentines day ( @lemonlover1110 ) ft. megumi fushiguro ;)

✧.* argument ( @lymtw ) reader is SO ME …… ugh i love hurt/comfort (also read author’s other works please they’re amazing)

✧.* lockedup!fushiguro ( @animamii ) please read this series, this is veryyy good

✧.* bad dream ( @stellawish ) i love love dad!toji

✧.* toji fushiguro is no blind man ( @kissitbttr ) veery suggestive but also very good ;)

✧.* dad!toji drabble ( @kashverse ) this person got a huge amount of fluff drabbles of many characters and their works are freaking amazing

✧.* toji fushiguro had no intentions of getting married again ( @starmapz ) i’m actually rereading it like once in three days no jokes

✧.* olderboyfriend!toji ( @tojibnuy ) i audibly giggled btw

✧.* acts of service ( @levisjinchuriki ) like i said , i love hurt/comfort and this oneshot is amazing

✧.* toji with pregnant wife ( @onehundredelevven ) ughh this is so cute i’m gonna die

✧.* when you caught flowers on the wedding ( @pepperyduck ) it made me want to attend someone's wedding …unfortunately i've never been to one 🥲

✧.* one step forward, two steps back ( @jjk4isen ) this is just cruel.

╰┈➤ nanami kento

✧.* jealous nanami ( @shebrewscoffee ) this is SO nanami i love it

✧.* olderhusband!nanami ( @vampyhvnt ) this is canon actually ….

✧.* evening walks were sacred in the nanami household ( @kashverse )

✧.* nanami is part danish ( @iid-smile ) this is very sweet i’m actually exploded

✧.* his protégé ( @augustinewrites )

✧.* my wife ( @chastiefoul ) you could tell nanami is very married

✧.* heart attack ( @iid-smile )

✧.* disturbed sleep ( @iid-smile )

✧.* nanami bittersweet ( @/creamflix ) i’m sorry this is a rb link too .. and this one HURTS

✧.* the secret wife ( @chuluoyi ) hehe i love this .. you should also read love entries ( gojo ) from this author <3 this is very good

✧.* yuji after anesthesia ( @unabletonotlovesatoru ) this is healing my btw ..

╰┈➤ geto suguru

✧.* the paint doesn’t move the way the light reflects ( @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ) OOH I LOVE LOVE ROYALTY AU AND THIS IS SO SWEET AND CUTE OMG

✧.* i love you, i love you (kill me in the morning) ( @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat )

✧.* six degrees of separation ( @starmapz ) best geto series imo ….

✧.* i crumble completely when you cry ( @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ) arctic monkeys mentioned ⁉️ but seriously this is AWESOME also if you want some good geto fics please check this blog and read their works

✧.* i dream, now, of a normal life with you ( @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat )

✧.* suguru drabble ( @jjk4isen )

✧.* baby, my baby ( @sugudoe ) this is a smau including geto, gojo and nanami, AND THIS IS SOO AMAZING LIKE OML did i mentioned that i LOVE hurt/comfort ??

✧.* twin dad and teacher geto ( @slttygeto )

✧.* teacher!geto with pregnant wife ( @slttygeto ) teacher suguru ..teacher suguru ….

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE WORKS ! ALL CREDITS TO THE AUTHORS <3

[izumkay]

"CAUGHT, KEPT, CRAVED" |m.list|

❥Pairing- Hunter!Satoru × Fairy!Reader

❥Synposis- Satoru Gojo never believed in fairy tales—until he found one standing right in front of him. A real, flesh-and-blood fairy, in his forest. He should’ve been concerned, maybe even terrified, but mostly? He was just shocked as hell.

Fairies weren’t real. They belonged in bedtime stories, not in the middle of his hunt, staring at him like he was the strange one. And yet, days passed, and she didn’t vanish like a dream. Instead, she became something else entirely—something dangerous, something forbidden. Keeping her close is reckless. Letting her go? Impossible.

❥Gerne/theme- MDNI. Explicit sexual content, lot of sexual tension, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, forbidden love, fantasy AU, mention of fire and deaths, blood, abuse, possessiveness, SA attempts, longing, sacrifices, reunion, seperation, fluff too <3 happy ending.

—CHAPTERS—

Chapter-1 | Seeing is Believing... pending

メOther—

Hunter!Gojo aesthetics

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.81)

(Sneak Peek)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your heat is oh so close to breaking, but first, you need your whole pack even closer, but nothing seems close enough…

Tags: heatsex, Dumbification kink, Dacryphilia, Crying during sex cuz its so good, overstimulation, Double penetration, Two Knots one hole, sope x reader, settling spanking, subspace, dom! Namjoon, Dom! Seojin, Holecheck, fluff, Comfort no hurt,

W/c: 11.1k

A/n: honestly how do i tell you guys that there's double penetration in something through a moodboard???? like i struggled so hard with this one you're just going to have to believe me. i went with more of a nostalgic vibe because the ending of the heat is actually really sweet and pretty.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

It isn’t the first time Tae has used your bare back as a rest for her notebook. It’s comforting. The feeling of the paper against your bare skin. Her non-dominant hand tickles over your shoulder as you doze, not fully asleep lazing in the water.

Yoongi leans his cheek against the ball of Tae's shoulder, nuzzling briefly. He peeks over as she writes and scrawls and she tilts the paper so that he can see better.

You’re spread across Jimin’s lap now, body half tipped into the water. occasionally hands grip under your arms, readjusting so that you don’t actually drown as you sort of fall asleep. You’re so tired, a bone deep exhaustion that cannot be roused.

And it's so warm, the places where they touch you blend and move, sudsy and slippery.

Your face gets gently washed, gentle fingers in smooth circles and when Yoongi tilt’s your chin, you notice that his fingers have already gone pruny from how they’ve sudsed you up between your legs to your knees, every inch of you clean. even the hem of his pushed up sleeves are damp.

Finally.

when she’s done with her little poem, Tae recites it for you three. The steam turns the air hazy. it sort of feels like a love letter that turns into a poem. You’re distantly aware of it as always, that this poem is about you.

But then again, most of the time when Tae writes, it’s about you. (Jimin too, but mostly- you).

You think when she finally lets you read her book, that you’re going to see little bits of your love story in-between the pages, you’ll notice flashes of you. Sweet reminders that you are loved and as treasured just as dearly as one of Tae's characters, that you live in her head just as they do.

8 months ago, she would have never shared a poem with any of them so soon after it popped into her head. She’d at least have edited it a little. Tae's words used to be kept under lock and key.  

But you have made Tae into someone brave enough now. She is not so scared of showing the delicate parts of her. You curl your hand around her thigh in response. Cheek resting on her knee as you listen to her voice. 

“I long to be careless with my heart, to not know what it feels like when it burns. To give it thoughtlessly again, so that I might prolong those firsts with you."

There is a lump in her throat, you can hear it as she says the words, it makes them come out hushed, like she is close to crying. The ending of these firsts has never bothered you. First kiss, first date, first heat. all crossed off a list. Maybe when you're more lucid, you'll tell her you can play pretend and go on as many first dates as you need too to get it right. Until she stops feeling it- the burn.

"As the firsts become fewer and fewer, I find myself pausing, making it last, savoring it.” You rub your cheek into Tae's knee, and Yoongi’s hand runs through your hair, then tae's.

“A bite, a blush, a secret shared.” Jimin’s hand lingers around the curve of your shoulder, holding you out of the water.

“The love on the blankets, your kiss ruddy on my hands. The feeling of your knees between my knees, your heart and other banquets upon which we feast.”

Tae's hand thumbs over your lip, and when you look up at her you find her watching you. Reading off the words without looking at the paper, like she’s already committed the words to memory.

“A first meal or last like any other. Regardless, I eat.”

Coming Saturday February 22 at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

[ace-of-zaun]

Kiss Me More. Pt 4:

silco x f!reader - 2.4k words - SFW

cw: fluff, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, break-ups, self-doubt, emotions, silco is a lovely boy

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

-

Only a few days after Silco had crashed your date, Seven turns up at your work and invites you to a run-down café during your lunch break, where he rather efficiently ‘breaks up’ with you. 

It’s quite a curt speech, all in all. Very straight to the point and surprisingly only includes one, extremely cliché, it's not you it’s me, that he doesn’t even really sound that sorry about. 

You’re mostly too stunned by the sheer audacity to respond to a single word he says. 

And then, to add insult to injury, the lunch ends quite abruptly with Seven pushing back his chair with a scrape and exiting the café (conveniently forgetting to pay for the large lunch and three drinks he’d greedily consumed whilst talking), where he promptly begins to flirt with a girl playing the guitar on the other side of the street. 

You go back to work in a daze. 

Truthfully, you’re a little bit relieved that it’s finally over and that you weren’t the one to have to do the ‘breaking up’ in the end. 

But even though you never really liked him, and even though you think it won’t be enough if you never see his arrogant mug ever again, you still feel that inevitable ache of rejection. The kind which unfortunately hits you right in the middle of your afternoon shift at work, where you almost start blubbering on a customer who innocently asks if you have any vintage picnic baskets. (How could they be so insensitive, don’t they know you went on a picnic for your second date?!)

And after an agonising rest of the afternoon, hating everyone for carrying on as normal as if life isn’t just a cesspit of cruelty, you finally return home from work emotionally exhausted, and desperate to just crawl into bed and hide under the covers forever, until the end of time, please and thank you. 

Except, fate must have it in for you because the very second you make it through the front door, Silco is waiting for you on the sofa.

He jumps to his feet the moment he sees you, looking strangely nervous as he shuffles from one foot to the other. You close the door behind you slowly, eyeing him up like he’s a rabid bunny about to chomp at your ankles. 

It’s tempting to just make a run for it and never look back. But he’s clearly been waiting for you, made doubly obvious by the fact that Vander is watching from the kitchen doorway, leaning casually against the frame with his arms crossed. 

Silco says your name cautiously, drawing your gaze back to him. 

You blink at him slowly which he must take as his cue to start speaking.

"Hey, uh, look," he begins, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, clearly struggling to make eye contact. "I just wanted to apologise for upsetting you the other day. And I didn't mean to imply that you would never be good enough for someone, of course I don't think that." 

"The opposite really…" he then mumbles under his breath.

Vander clears his throat loudly and Silco darts a glance over his shoulder at him. From this angle, you can’t see the face Silco pulls but you can clearly see the pointed look Vander gives him in return. 

Then, just as quickly, Silco swivels back round to face you before awkwardly adding, "And, uh, I'm sorry for crashing your date. It won't happen again. Promise." 

If you weren’t feeling so despondent, you’d have laughed at the irony. No, Silco, you definitely won’t be crashing any more dates. 

You take a deep breath, conscious of his poorly hidden apprehension while he waits for your response. 

"Well, thanks for the apology, Silco, but it really doesn't matter anymore," you say, finding it difficult to inject any kind of warmth or enthusiasm into your timbre. 

But instead of the look of relief you expected, you find yourself confused at the expression of absolute horror that suddenly paints itself across Silco’s face. 

"What." 

"He broke up with me," you clarify with a frown. 

You’re certain that the carousel of emotions that play out across Silco’s face would be thoroughly entertaining at any other time. Starting with pure surprise, that then shifts to guilty relief, before landing on a look that can only be described as torn. 

"Oh," he says, before his features finally, finally drop into concern. "Oh."

You’re not sure what prompts you to do it because it’s definitely not a conscious decision, but all of a sudden you find yourself walking silently to your bedroom like you’re stuck on tracks. You think Silco might call your name behind you, but you can’t respond, stuck in your own little bubble of despair.

And before you know it, you’re getting into bed and hugging a pillow to your body as you begin to cry. 

It’s all a confusing mess of pressure that sits right in your chest; the disappointment, and sense of abandonment, and that awful, desperate hope for a new chance at what you’d hoped might eventually become love. 

You have no idea how long you stay curled up in your bed, but at some point, the sobs  eventually recede into a quiet stream of tears, salting your cheeks. 

In fact, you’re only brought back to the real world when a knock sounds on your bedroom door. 

You ignore it, which only proves futile because a few seconds later the door pushes open anyway, revealing a fuzzy, tear-blurred Silco. 

You watch him silently, blinking the tears out of your sore eyes. Normally, you’d be shouting at him for not respecting your boundaries, but just now, you have no energy to do anything but sniffle and stare. 

"I brought you some tea," he announces, terribly, heart-breakingly soft.

Silco places the tray down on your bedside cabinet with a carefulness you rarely see from the lanky boy, much more accustomed to the rough, slightly clumsy way that he usually trips through life.

But when you finally get a glimpse of the tray, you find that he hasn’t just brought you tea, but also the small box of chocolates you’d spent months scrimping and saving for, just to give to him on his birthday.

Your heart pangs at the thoughtfulness and almost threatens to set you off crying again. 

"Those are yours," you croak out, throat sore and just that little bit swollen. 

His expression crumples into concern at the sound, but he manages to keep that soft, soothing timbre that’s held you together through countless bad nights at this point.

"You deserve them more than I do." 

Your bottom lip juts out in protest against the tears that begin to flow again, entirely without your permission. 

Silco carefully sits down on the edge of the mattress, reaching out with his thumb to gently brush the tears off your cheeks, one side then the other. 

You look up at him and there’s a moment where you wish you could become stuck in time, stay in this bittersweet moment forever, just the two of you. 

"I really am sorry," he murmurs.

"No, you're not," you mumble back, without heat. 

You’re not angry. Gods, you’re far too tired to even think about being angry right now. If anything, you’re just being honest. 

"Okay, well I'm not sorry that you're not seeing that scumbag anymore," he replies, and you can’t help but huff an amused breath through your nose at his candour. "But I am sorry for being an asshole,” he finishes. 

Then, his tone drops right back into that gentleness as he wipes the tears from your face once more. 

"And I'm sorry for making you cry.”

There’s a million things you could say to that, but none of them will really solve anything, so instead you just sniff once and shrug your shoulders the best you can whilst lying on your side, arms still wrapped tightly around your pillow. 

Besides, it wouldn’t be very accurate to say that you’re crying because of anything Silco said, or even because of Seven. 

If anything, if you really think about it, you’re mostly upset because you have a sneaking suspicion you’re in love with your best friend, and if that wasn’t confusing and overwhelming as it is, then you don’t even want to consider what would happen if he didn’t feel the same…

Oh, gods, what if he doesn’t feel the same?

Your expression crumples at the thought of Silco rejecting you, so you shove your face into your pillow as a fresh wave of sobs break through you. 

At this, Silco makes an upset noise from above you, lifting the covers and shuffling to lie next to you in bed. 

He wraps his arms around you, but with the pillow squishing between your bodies it just feels ridiculous, so you tug the pillow from your front and throw it over his shoulder, off the bed, closing the gap to hug him properly.

Silco’s arms engulf you like a lock fitting in a key, your face pressed into his sternum as your arms hug tight around his waist whilst he holds you to his body, one hand cradling the back of your head whilst the other strokes soothingly up and down your back. 

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispers into your hair. "I'm really sorry." 

It takes a few more moments for you to stop sobbing, but you force yourself to push through it. You have to let him know that this isn’t what he thinks it is. 

"It's fine, Silco," you say through gulps of air. "I… I didn't really like him anyway." 

"You didn't?" he says, just a little bit too far on the side of hopeful as he delicately threads his fingers into your hair. 

"No. He was a dick,” you say bluntly. "And he… sometimes made me feel kind of uncomfortable.”

Part of you feels a little bit foolish for allowing yourself to spend so much time with such an insipid person. But this was only your first foray into the world of dating. Who can blame you for hoping it would all get better with time? 

Silco stiffens in your arms, pulling back just enough so that he can look you in the eye. 

"He what?" 

You're genuinely surprised at the venom in his tone. 

"I'm going to fucking kill him," he seethes, fingers tightening ever-so-slightly until he’s gripping the back of your shirt in his fingers. "Did he hurt you?" 

"No, no, nothing like that.” You’re quick to reassure him before he gets the wrong idea. "I just didn't really like it when he tried to kiss me or hold my hand. He was just a bit… I don’t know… gross?"

Silco calms down marginally, to your relief, but a layer of hurt still resides. 

"I can still kill him," he offers darkly. 

"Shut up, you idiot," you chide, but find yourself helpless to the smile that tugs at your lips. 

You pull him back into a proper hug to hide it. Honestly, the last thing this ridiculous boy needs is to be encouraged.

It’s comfortably quiet for a few minutes, and Silco returns to gently carding his fingers through your hair. This is how everything should be. This is how it should feel. 

"Do you think it was my fault?" you blurt out, entirely against your will. 

"What? No. None of it was your fault," Silco insists. "He was the one who messed you about." 

"No, not that, I mean…" you begin, trailing off until you can put it into words. "I just mean, it didn't feel like what I thought a relationship should feel like, you know?" 

Silco shuffles back slightly, close enough that you’re still holding onto one another, but far enough so that he can lay his head on the one remaining pillow you’re currently sharing. 

From here, you can see his emotion-tired expression, faces close like when you were little and Sil would climb into your bed after a particularly harrowing nightmare, telling you stories and nonsense ramblings until you eventually felt safe enough to go back to sleep. 

Except now, there’s something more. Something charged, connecting you in a way that is much deeper and much more rousing than when you were children. 

"How should it feel?" he asks, voice low. 

"I don't know…" you say, considering. "I think… I think you should feel comfortable with your partner, and not nervous all the time." 

He nods, ink hair slowly becoming messier against the pillow. 

"Like you're at home with them," Silco adds. 

"Yeah," you reply, surprised he understands you so well. "And you should want to be around them, not wishing they’d just leave you alone."

The little smile he gives spurs you on. 

"And- and when you kiss, it should feel like nothing or no-one else in the world exists in that moment. Like the only thing that matters is you and them."

Silco carefully tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, the pads of his fingers trailing softly down your jaw, as he looks at you in a way no-one ever has before.

"And you didn't feel any of that with him?" 

A brief pause, as you genuinely, truly contemplate it. 

"No." 

But I did with you. 

"Well, then. He clearly didn't deserve you if he didn’t make you feel any of that," Silco decides, with an air of finality. Like he’s putting Seven to rest. Done and dusted. 

“Yeah, I guess…” you say, cheeks burning a little pink at the compliment. It was probably unintentional, knowing Silco. 

But then, he says your name, expression turned serious, almost startlingly so. 

“Yeah?” you ask, slowly and nervously. 

Silco’s mouth opens for a moment before it falls shut again and he draws you into his embrace once more, hiding his face against the side of your neck. His warm breath tickles your skin and you can’t help but feel that this hug means something, something more than the previous ones did. 

You’re too scared of accidentally ruining the moment to ask.

The two of you lay in each other’s arms for a long while, long enough that you completely forget about the cup of tea steadily cooling on the bedside cabinet. Long enough that you slowly drift to sleep in his warmth, exhausted but for the first time in a long time, comfortable. 

Maybe if you can find a way to stay like this forever, everything will turn out alright. 

-

a/n: there’s no unrequited love in this house by the way, all will be well, reader’s just going through it a bit at the moment… and we would have gotten away with it if it weren’t for them meddling emotions!!!

-

super secret taglist 🤠: @oceansssblue , @inolaphoenix , @holographicgarden , @darlingimafangirl , @rainyforest777 , @kikiiswashere , @deviantgamergirl , @miffysoo , @eternallyvenus , @forcrybaby , @laurazuko6 , @kakashiislut , @aws4blood

[squishyhotaru]

HEAVY IN YOUR ARMS

— ♡ Jude Jazza/Female bodied Reader — ♡ ANGST AND FLUFF — ♡TW: Reader is "kidnapped" and almost killed and used against Jude, but has happy ending — ♡Pronouns: You, Princess, Woman — ♡Words: 2571 — ♡Ao3 Mirror — ♡MASTERLIST | REQUESTS Repost from my old blog

⤷ During a rare occasion Jude takes you out for a date, you find yourself in the hands of those who have it out for him and they decide to use you against him, without realising just how far he will go to protect you.

— ♡ Tag list: @nightghoul381

How long had it been since you’d first met Jude Jazza?

Your one month long stay in Crown Castle had come and gone many moons ago, and yet here you were, still at his side, hand in his as this had always been your life. Despite spending so much time with him, it could still be hard to understand him. For instance, he liked to keep your relationship private since he was worried people targeting him would come after you. You always tried to belay his fears, but he wasn’t wrong; you were defenceless compared to the others, and it was a rare day when he wasn’t hurt by some asshole who wanted him dead.

It was for that reason that you almost never went out in public together. Dates were had in the comfort of walls where no one would know you — and while you were glad to just spend any time with him, really, to be truthful, all you wanted to do was shout to the world about him. About you both. About how much you loved him, about how he was working on being kinder, only to you, and how his kindness was tender and so sincere that each time you fell in love with him more and more.

Perhaps he knew this, and that was why he’d asked you out on an actual date.

You’d assured him that it was okay, but he’d simply clicked his tongue and insisted that if he wanted to take his princess out for dinner, then he would absolutely do that. The possessiveness in his tone silenced all objections, and the gleam in his eyes that was familiar; the one he’d had when he’d promised you nothing would hurt you, nothing would take you from him.

The restaurant was entirely empty when you entered, and you had to bite back a laugh when you noticed the waiter was Ellis. Jude, however, snickered when he saw it. “Don’t get too into the role, I expect ya back at work tomorrow.”

“Did you book the entire place…?”

Jude shrugged as if it was nothing and sat down, motioning to the chair opposite. “Jude, you should pull her chair out-”

“If she wanted a fuckin’ gentleman then she should have dated someone else.”

This time, you laugh and shake your head, taking the seat. “I don’t know, I think you can be a gentleman at times.”

Jude sighed and shook his head. “Obviously you’ve spent too much time around us that yer perceptions getting fucked,” he said with a slight huff. “Order whatever, I paid the kitchen staff to make whatever yer want.”

“Wait, you-”

“Just order!”

Was it you, or was there a faint hint of pink on his cheek? You bit your lip before smiling and busying yourself with the menu. Of course it wouldn’t be a normal date; Jude thought kindness had to come with things only he could do, royal boxes for theatre performances, entire floors of hotels, and now apparently, entire restaurants and their cooks. It was mostly his way of being careful. It only took one person to recognise him, to describe you, and it only took them following you to find you alone, and, then-

Under the table you can feel his foot rub against yours and you glance up to find him watching you. His eyes are warm, an expression only ever you get to see, and your heart jumps. “What’s that expression, Princess?” he smirks. “Wantin’ desert first?”

“You are impossible, Jude Jazza,” you sigh softly, yet smile at him anyway. God you love him. So much that it feels as if each day that passes at his side you become more and more dyed in his colours. The darkness of his life has become so common that you doubt you know what it feels like to live in the light anymore, and yet-

As the food arrives it smells perfect. Ellis pours wine and then vanishes to give you both space. “Thank you, Jude,” you murmur, staring at him. “You always really do make me feel like a princess.”

He snorts, eyes dropping from yours. He does that when he’s bashful, something also only you ever get to see. “No woman of mine is gonna get treated like a pauper.”

“Jude, you know I’d be happy with you no matter what, right?”

“That’s cause yer happy to settle.”

“No, it’s because I love you.”

His amethyst eyes rise again to meet yours as you lift your spoon to your mouth. There’s no hint of coldness, only warmth that you could get lost in — and in that dark room, the room that’s getting darker, your head spinning —

“Princess…?”

You reach for him as he stands up but his warmth as he holds you is the last thing you feel.

Who knows how much time passes since then?

The sun had been setting when you’d left Crown Castle, and now, as a hard slap to your face rouses you from your slumber, there’s nothing but darkness and a bitter chill that bites at your exposed skin. There’s too much to take notice of as you look around, too many feelings, the cold is the most obvious at first — until your hair is grabbed and your neck exposed and something far colder than the night air presses against your throat.

You swallow.

Your hands are bound behind your back, your ankles tied, too making it near impossible to move. There’s water nearby, you can hear it but that’s all you can make out over the fear. What’s happening?

“I’ll fuckin’ kill ya if you lay a single hand on her.”

Jude.

You breathe and close your eyes, trying to steady and calm yourself. Jude is here. Jude will save you. He always does. You move your eyes to find him across from you, his jacket is gone and his white shirt is stained with red as he kneels amongst figures whose faces you can’t make out. His face is bloody too—

“Jude-” you croak out, fear gripping your stomach at the sight of him.

Is he getting hurt because of you?

“Shut up, bitch.”

A dangerous growl escapes Jude’s throat and you meet his eyes. The warmth is gone, there is only coldness, and a regret there that you know is going to torment him for the rest of his life. Doesn’t he know this is your fault? Here you were, dragging him down, no doubt if he didn’t have to worry about your life and safety, he could get out of this.

“Strange, I didn’t think the rumours were true that Jude Jazza had a fondness for such a meek woman,” the man holding you says.

“Get off of me,” you grumble, trying to fight his grip. His hand holding your hair relents, before it trails along your face to grip your chin and lift your head to face him. You don’t recognise him, you’re positive you’ve never seen him before in your life — but there’s a cruelness in his eyes that sparks genuine fear inside of you. “Don’t touch me.”

“If you fight back, we’ll rough your boyfriend up more.”

“Tch, I’ll really fuckin’ kill ya. Princess, think about yer safet-”

He breaks off when one of the others kicks or punches him or something — you can only hear his groans of pain. Your eyes sting and you furiously blink your tears back to glare at the man holding you. “He truly does value you more than his own life.”

“I value him more than mine, too,” you say back, though your voice isn’t as strong as you’d hoped and he laughs in response.

“Well, either way, I’m afraid it’s his fault you’re in this situation.”

“No, it isn’t,” you gulp, trying to ignore the knife digging against you more. Where is Ellis? Has he gone to get help? Can you stall long enough that both of you can get out of this? “If I wasn’t here you’d never get him.”

“You’re sure right about that, princess,” the man chuckles, the nickname feeling almost slimy as it falls from his lips. “Mr. Jazza.”

Jude grunts.

“This woman is entirely wasted on you, perhaps we could show her-”

“Go to hell, ya fuckin’ punk.”

The malice in Jude’s reply only calms you, especially when you feel the man tense up. Maybe they have him at a disadvantage, but they’re scared of him still; perhaps it’ll be enough to keep them from touching you. You silently beg for Ellis to hurry up as you’re hauled to your feet, stumbling without the free movement of your feet.

“Just hurry up and tell me how much money ya fuckin’ want!”

“Money?”

Everything seems to go silent, before a chuckle escapes the man behind you. “Oh no, no no, I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood. I don’t want money, Jude Jazza, I want you to be broken inside.”

A strange feeling overcomes you as you’re tugged along, it’s as if everything is in slow motion. You turn to look at him, his eyes wide and almost frantic and you want nothing more than to rush to him, than to take him into your arms and tell him he’s okay, that you’re okay, but…. The feeling of foreboding only gets worse when you hear a clanking sound, when you feel something cold and heavy attached to your feet and then-

Jude jumps to his feet though is quickly restrained by the guys around him. “Jude-”

You don’t hear his reply as he opens his mouth. Your legs are jerked and pulled out from under you, and as icy water consumes you, suddenly you understand. Strange, you feel as if you should feel more concerned for your life — there’s no way you’re getting out of this alone, after all, and yet all you can think about is him.

Will he be okay? Will the others arrive and help him in time? He’s gonna spend his life blaming himself for this, and you don’t want that — it’s not his fault, it really isn’t — urgency wells up in you, the need to get to the surface to fill your lungs with the air they’re begging to miss more and more, and yet no matter of moving can do anything to free yourself. The light above the water seems almost beautiful in a way.

The longer you spend without air the more delirious you feel. Seconds feel like hours, but you so desperately don’t want to close your eyes — you can’t let… Jude get hurt, and yet there’s nothing you can do, and….!

When hands grip yours, when you find your arms free, you’re certain it’s nothing more than your imagination. That, perhaps, you’re so far gone to the other side that this is how it’s supposed to feel. Free. Then, when your legs are freed next you’re positive this is it. The weightlessness is from your life leaving you, the hands on you, the rough grip you know so well is just your brain comforting you —

The air that fills your lungs burns.

Burns so much that there’s no way this is imagination.

“Fuck it, Princess, breathe-”

Hands on your face, on your neck — another voice, deep, one you should recognise. It’s cold again.

“Jude…?”

It must be hell, there’s no angel in heaven who could have his voice or his touch.

“Open yer eyes, please.”

It can’t be real, after all his voice is too frantic with worry. There’s no composure anymore, that’s not like him.

Lips against yours, wet — and then you open your eyes, recognising the smoky and bitter taste of your lover. His hair is sopping wet, his shirt sticking to him and covered in blood and you’re clinging to him — both of you cold, shivering, and yet-

“You fuckin’ scared… the hell out of me…” he breathes, smoothing your hair back and frantically checking you over. “Don’t ever fuckin’ do that to me again, you can’t go anywhere-”

“It’s… not your fault, it wasn’t-” you croak out, voice sore, throat burning. You’re crying, you’re not sure when that started, perhaps when you felt his firm chest under your body when he crushed you against him as if to say you were never, ever leaving his side for the rest of the eternity you’d pledged to him. “I’m okay.”

“It is-”

“It isn’t,” you say firmly, gripping his shirt and shaking your head. “It isn’t. I’m okay… you’re hurt-”

“He’s fine.”

You recognise the other voice as Rogers, and the soapy scent that fills the air as something warm drapes over you. Jude’s jacket; the scent and warmth is welcome. “I’m sorry,” Ellis murmurs. “I didn’t take my eyes off them.”

“What happened…?”

Jude simply shakes his head, standing up with a grunt of pain and lifting you in his arms. He’s stubborn, you know he won’t accept if you protest, so instead you accept his silent kindness and nuzzle yourself closer to him. Now you wrap your arms around him, intent to hold him as close to you as you can. “I’m okay, Jude,” you whisper into his ear. “You’re safe, too.”

“You think I give half a damn about me?” he mutters back.

“But I do,” you respond, pressing your face against his neck, that spot you always fit so perfectly. “I’m… I’m so glad you’re okay, Jude.”

“You’re perception really is fucked.”

“Just tell me you’re glad to be alive, Jude.”

He remains silent, lips pursed and eyes narrowed as he walks. There’s a carriage up ahead, according to Ellis. Once you get back Roger will look over you both, and then — a warm bath, Jude says, and then you’re not leaving his side for days. Weeks.

“No, you’re wrong.”

“What?” he snorts, stopping walking to look down at you. “You think you can escape me?”

“No, that’s not-” you sigh. “I just meant it’s going to be me keeping you at my side.”

“I think she’s got you there, Jude-”

“Shut up, Ellis,” he mutters, hauling you into the carriage in his lap. The moment Ellis tries to pull himself in, he pushes him back out. “Fuckin’ walk home.”

“Jude, it’s cold,” he pouts.

“Shut up.”

“Jude,” you whisper, curling yourself closer to him. “You really are alive.”

“Of course I am,” he says indignantly, finally letting Ellis and Roger inside. “If you’re alive so am I. I ain’t ever gonna let some other bastard stay at your side, after all. Your arms are the only ones I belong in.”

At first, you’re not sure you hear the last few words, but when he places a few soft kisses to the tips of your fingers you’re positive you didn’t mishear him.

[m4rv3l-girl]

I have arthritis and I am currently having a bad flair where I can't make a fist or close my hands and they really hurt..I was wondering how would Bucky take care/comfort a reader that had that?😭🩷

Warnings: Chronic pain. Lots of fluff!

The first thing Bucky notices is the way you hold your hands.

It’s subtle - probably something no one else would even pick up on. But Bucky spent too much time watching you, memorizing every little thing about you to miss it. Your fingers are stiff, curled slightly but not into a fist. You’re cradling your hands in your lap like they’re made of glass.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he watches as you try to pick up your coffee mug, your grip weak, hands trembling just a little. The moment you wince, that’s it - Bucky’s moving before you can stop him, swiping the cup from your grasp and setting it down before you can spill it.

Your expression is pure frustration, a mix of embarrassment and pain.

“I had that,” you grumble, shifting uncomfortably.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Sure, Doll. And I’m Beyoncé.”

You shoot him a half-hearted glare, but your hands are trembling against your thighs. He softens instantly, reaching out and gently taking one of them in his own. His vibranium fingers are warm, thanks to the upgraded tech that allows temperature regulation, and he runs his thumb lightly over your knuckles.

“It’s bad today, huh?” he asks softly.

You exhale shakily. “Yeah.”

Bucky doesn’t need more than that. He knows what arthritis is. Hell, if anyone understands chronic pain, it’s him. A century-old body with a history like his? He’s got aches that never quite go away. But this—this is different. This is you, and he’ll be damned if he lets you deal with it alone.

The Comfort Plan, Bucky Barnes-Style:

Number 1 is no Hand-Related Tasks for You. “Doll, you are under strict no-hand-usage orders. That means no dishes, no buttoning things, no lifting anything heavier than a spoon.” He smirks. “Or a chocolate bar. I know you.”You roll your eyes but don’t protest when he takes over tying the laces of your shoes, careful and precise.

Secondly, warmth is Key. He digs out an old heated blanket from the back of the closet, the one you call ‘Bucky’s Old Man Blanket’ because it’s a relic from the 1940s. He swears it still works fine. You swear it smells like ‘antique.’“You warm yet?” he asks, tucking you into it on the couch.“Almost. Maybe if you got in here too.”He huffs, but he’s already climbing in, pulling you against his chest. “You just wanted an excuse to cuddle.” “Always.”

Last, Distractions. a.k.a. Movie Marathon. He lets you pick the movies. Well, mostly. You veto his idea of watching Empire Strikes Back for the millionth time because that much snow makes you cold just looking at it. “Fine,” he sighs. “But I’m still picking one.” He picks The Little Mermaid purely to make you laugh.

By the end of the night, your hands still ache, but it’s easier somehow. Maybe it’s the warmth, or Bucky’s presence, or maybe it’s just knowing that even on the bad days you don’t have to carry it alone.

“You okay, Doll?” he murmurs as you drift against him.

You nod sleepily. “Mhm. Thanks, Buck.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, squeezing your hand gently in his. “Any time.”

——————————————————————————————————

Chronic pain is tough, but so are you. I hope you enjoyed it, My Dear! 🫶

[myunghology]

LOOK AFTER YOU. — rui kamishiro

Ꮺ you've begun to feel like home.

— i don't know if this is angst, fluff or comfort. lord help me.

Cold wind blowing through your hair, your shoes were now full of water as you just sit in silence, staring off into space. You'd have almost forgotten Rui was beside you if you didn't hear his shoes tapping against the wet concrete.

It was a comforting silence— one you'd relish in forever, if you could. Comforting, yet uneasy at the same time. You didn't have to say anything at all, he already knew what you were thinking about, anyway.

A shiver jolts itself into your body from the cold, your hair and your blouse was wet as well, which didn't make anything better. The blazer of your uniform discarded somewhere in the school, and you didn't want to bother looking for it.

The male beside you wasn't in any way, in a better state. And yet, you could hear his hands take off the cardigan he was wearing right now, before you mumbled that you didn't need it, mostly because he probably required it more than you did.

He knows you're spiraling again, and you knew that too.

You feel his cardigan drape around your shoulders anyway, your gaze moving to his own. The water was soaked up into his uniform, exposing his lean body oh so slightly. He ruffles his hair, trying to get the water out as he shakes his head, making you smile.

Another wave of callousness hits you once more as you shiver, now it was your time to shake your head, but this time, in disdain. An arm makes it's way onto your shoulders, his thumb running over it for slight comfort.

"Come here," You hear him say, beckoning for you to come closer, to which you do. You scoot closer to him, being unable to hold back now.

A panic rushes in you, worried, as if he'd just disappear from your side. You settle yourself in his arms, making a soft chuckle escape Rui's mouth as the palm of his hand rests on the small of your back, patting it gently.

The feel of your soaked clothes being pressed up against each other was anything but comfortable, but the feel of his body against yours was ever so. You could list hundreds of reasons for your hurting, but one reason to keep on staying.

He doesn't know it, but that reason is him. He doesn't know that he was starting to feel like home.

A place of peace where one stops crying where you can come back to you when you're tired, afraid, empty, and lonely. The way you forget everything that's hurting when he's with you, those voids of nothingness getting filled with so much life.

A home that will fill you with so much love, strength, and courage until you're ready to go out and face the world again. You'd find reasons to come back to him-- anything, just to get the feeling of jumping into his arms once more. It felt like such solace, that it was where you belonged.

A home that embraces you no matter who you have fail to become. A home that welcomes you with the warmest hello no matter how long you've been gone.

His warm embrace engulfing you in such familiarity, and so genuinely as well. You couldn't have wished for anything less, or anything even better.

Kiss his calloused hands, run your fingers through his vibrant hair, caress his face, wipe his tears away, or he'd wipe yours. Even if you break his heart into a thousand pieces, just please.

Come back to him.

[iron-sides]

Oh This Is My Moment (guy who likes reccing fics almost more than reading them)

ok this is just kind of a dsmp grab bag from my bookmarks so it swings wildly around the length & vibe spectrums but its pretty much all tommyinnit centric. uh. so heads up lol altho theres a lot of bench trio I Think (also warning a fair bit of sbi for sure possibly more than bench trio so if ur like I Dont Read Sbi Anymore uh. sorry) also i tried to avoid like huge fandom faves like passerine/butterfly reign/devil town/event horizon just bc the liklihood u havent read them is Small-- also superhero aus for similar reasons. ok no more disclaimers i prommy fic time now!

in all their bashful glory

2.5k words of pure cclingy fluff. its beautiful. its so good. complete. i love her.

humans are space velociraptors

series incomplete but work one isnt! ur lookin at a little under 200k words of space au that really utilizes the language barrier in some really cool ways!! ALSO! human tubbo :D this one tends slightly angstier but i personally feel its pretty well balanced out- it functions similarly to a Humans Are Space Orcs tumblr post but like a bunch of them that go together? one of the more popular fics on this list but i reread it recently and its still so good !! mostly sbi but Also really really good clingyduo (you will notice there's a lot of that)

ours poetica by @zeeskeit-writes-sometimes

another long, angsty, fairly popular one, but this time it's tragically incomplete at 77k words :( BUT i can never say no to slam poetry au ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ this is another sbi one but not like Happy Family sbi its like. angsty. warning the poems are GREAT but it does get super dark tommy attempts suicide onscreen iirc (its been a few years BUT i cant do a dsmp reclist without ours poetica i think about her All The Time)

Unconnected Magic Fics

also 70k words BUT this is a benchtrio magic hurt/comfort series (tommyinnit centric im an inniter what can i say)! tommyinnit can now read minds! (hurt/comfort ensues) tommyinnit can no longer lie! (hurt/comfort ensues) beeduo can now read tommyinnits mind! (hurt/comfort ensues) etc etc

Rewind/Remix by @a-non-ymouswriter

this series is THE clingyduo bible its THE dsmp time travel fic its THE protegee tommy au you dont understand its SO GOOD ‼️ tragically abandoned sitting @ 290k words (idk why all the long ones r first i prommy theyre not ALL rlly long) BUT its so good. like its so good. future protegee tommy and former president tubbo are from EGGPOCALYPSE FUTURE which is awesome and IN eggpocalypse future nikis president. it rocks. its so great. dream has like tattooed the loyalty enchantment on protegee tommy like its CRAZY its so good. but again incomplete very incomplete :( idk if thats a dealbreaker for u but it is for the irl i usually am reccing to so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

talk to me by @doodlebloo

ik everyone knows and loves doodlebloo but im reccing this anyway its so good. its so good. i love them (cclingy) 5k words, complete

treatise on sin and vice

you dont understand it goes SO HARD. 7k word screenplay, complete. just trust me okay just read it its so good just trust me. take me my hand. its so good.

the snow king

SO GOOD!! ok so u know hit fairytale the snow queen? what if the snow queen was philza minecraft and the two friends were tommyinnit and tubbo underscore. 135k words, complete, another cclingyduo classic that i think about constantly. the worldbuilding is SO cool

i no longer know if i wish to drown myself in love, vodka, or the sea

ok self promo time :)) I have!! a beeduo fic!! shes 592 words! its about how crazy weird it must be to live with the ghost of someone you used to love :) i dont remember why i thought tubbo and michael moved into ranboos house after he died but i promise its a good fic anyway ! :D

can someone reccomend me dsmp fics. I just rewalized i cant remember the last time i read a fic

[stiffyck]

Sometimes I feel like my headcanons and my favorite tropes are like. The most rare ones. It's a curse.

Where's my touch-averse headcanons... it's always just touch-starvation.

Where's my aro and ace headcanons it's just shipping everywhere.

Suffering here

[sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now]

Thinking about writing shenanigans with Smitten and Cold

Smitten would write the most sappy and fluffy romance stories with happy endings every time. Cold would say that it’s getting predictable of how the story ends every time.

Smitten gets peeved and told Cold to write a romance story himself. Cold takes the challenge.

Smitten reads what Cold has written and lo and behold it’s the most heart wrenching, most antsy love story with pinning and longing that can never be filled.

Smitten cried reading it. He hated admitting that.

[adrift-in-thyme]

@skyward-floored remember that anon asking about a birthday fic yesterday? That was me :D

I wrote you a little something to celebrate your special day! I hope you like it!

Happy Birthday!! 🎈🎉

Ao3 link

———————————

Normally, Warriors would leave a guy to think. After all, he knows better than anyone the way working in a group can become a bit…suffocating. Being constantly surrounded by people will grow inevitably exhausting. It’s only right for one to go off on their own, seeking out some blessed solitude.

So, normally, if he had come across a certain hero sitting beside a quaint little stream, he would leave him to his duck watching and his thoughts and collapse onto his bedroll. But he has just come upon a certain hero sitting by a quaint little stream and he looks so absolutely pitiful that Warriors swears that he’s impersonating a kicked puppy.

And he can’t just leave him there, all sad and hunched over and shivery.

(Time and Arty are right, he guesses, he’s a hopeless softy.)

So, he sets aside his dreams of turning in early and starts toward him.

“Rupee for your thoughts, rancher?” He calls once he is within hearing distance.

Twilight startles and turns, blinking rapidly as though that will free him from his daze. Warriors keeps an easy grin on his face as his eyes roam the hero, cataloging what he sees.

Flushed cheeks, a light sheen of sweat on the brow, tremors running through the body, a glazed look in the eyes…and now a painfully hoarse voice as the rancher croaks his name in greeting. The captain suppresses a sigh. There can’t be any doubt about it, the rancher is sick.

He should’ve seen that coming — honestly, he had, though he’d shoved the suspicion back behind countless other strategies and worries and tasks. But he knows he isn’t the only one who picked up on Twilight’s less than perky attitude these past days. He had lagged behind the rest of the group, opting to plod along beside Sky instead of his usual place by Wild’s side. And that alone had arisen Warriors’ suspicions.

But he doesn’t comment about all that just yet. Even when Twilight turns away from him to cough harshly into his elbow. Wordlessly, he settles down beside him.

“You alright, Twi?”

He sets a steadying hand on his back as the coughs subside. Twilight takes a minute to catch his breath, his shudders growing more violent. But the glare he dredges up is no less severe than his usual.

“I’m not sick if-if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Warriors chuckles. “Well, now I’m thinking maybe you are. Because I alluded to no such thing.”

Twilight hums, looking completely unconvinced. Warriors doesn’t miss the way he leans into his touch, however, or the way his next exhale trembles. And he certainly can’t ignore it when, surreptitiously, he moves closer.

“I should’ve brought a blanket,” Warriors comments, mildly, when a few quiet moments have slid by. “You seem a bit cold. Too bad I left my scarf back at the camp.”

Twilight huffs a sigh. It quickly turns into another explosion of coughs.

“You should be back at the camp,” he grumbles, when he can once again drag in air, “not hanging around me. You’re gonna catch somethin’.”

A smirk lifts Warriors’ lips. “Ah, but I could’ve sworn that I just heard you claim that you weren’t sick.”

He senses more than sees Twilight’s eyes go wide. Then, the rancher lets out an annoyed groan.

“I swear y-you’re as bad as the old man.”

“Oh no, I can be worse.”

Another series of shiver races through him and Twilight ends up slumped against Warriors’ left side, teeth chattering audibly.

“S-somehow…I can believe that.”

Warriors chuckles. Carefully, he slides an arm around Twilight, holding him close. The hero practically melts into him.

“It’s a beautiful night at least,” the captain murmurs, gazing up above them.

The sky glows with the beginnings of twilight. Orange and purple and pink travel in streaks of dazzling fire across a canvas of deep blue. Upon the water, the display wavers, like paints just barely mixed upon a palette.

The air is temperate too, a warm breeze blowing through like a caress. He can’t help but be thankful for it. He’s almost certain that they all have had to endure sickness in a less than forgiving climate. In such circumstances, things seldom go well.

(He can’t help but think of Mask’s tale, told haltingly late at night after a dreadful nightmare. A tale of climbing a mountain with frostbitten feet and fingers and collapsing shivering and feverish at the door of a blacksmith’s hut.)

“Captain,” Twilight pipes up beside him, the word sounding positively painful, “do…do you ever feel a certain sadness at this time of day?”

Warriors hums, dragging himself from his thoughts. Something about that sentence sparks a memory within him, of a princess of twilight with the body of an imp and a heart of gold kept carefully concealed.

“I suppose so. Why?”

Twilight is smiling slightly when he looks at him, and there is sorrow in the expression.

“There’s another realm out there…”

“The Twilight realm.”

Twilight starts up, feverish gaze landing on Warriors. The captain laughs.

“Yes, I know of it. I knew it’s princess, as a matter of fact. We fought together during the war.”

Suddenly, Twilight looks more alert than he has all night. But then he shudders again and nearly loses his balance. Warriors pulls him close again, wrapping him in a half-hug.

“Midna? Y-you knew Midna?”

“I did.” The captain smiles, fondly. “She was a ferocious fighter…and a good friend. Though” — A teasing grin lifts his lips as he looks down at his brother “ — I always wondered why she chose to ride a wolf of all things into battle.

“But it makes a little more sense now.”

Even through his pallor, he can see Twilight’s cheeks flush. His face is a hurricane of emotion that Warriors feels he has little right to see. So, he turns back to the pond and watches as twilight overtakes the light of day.

“Did-did she mention me at all?” Twilight murmurs, finally.

Warriors cocks his head, weighing which words are best.

“No — not to me at least. But I think Midna was one who liked to keep things close to the vest. I think the wolf she rode was her way of…saying that she missed you.”

Twilight is silent for a few moments. Quiet reigns over the small clearing, save for the sounds of the rancher’s slightly congested breathing.

He should get him back to camp, Warriors thinks, get him some warm blankets and a potion and maybe some of Wild’s soup. But Twilight speaks up before he can voice any of those thoughts.

“I’m glad you got to meet her.” There is a tremulous smile in those words, a strength that the rancher always possesses, even when his energy is drained. “She…she was really somethin’ else.”

“Indeed she was.”

Twilight moves closer, resting his head on Warriors’ shoulder, and Warriors can’t help but feel that some unseen boundary has been broken from between them. Perhaps, this secret had weighed more heavily on the rancher than he had thought.

Well, that and the uncertainty of the princess’ feelings for him. That shattered mirror Twilight had spoken of hadn’t been the only thing broken.

“You know,” he says, as Twilight’s eyelids begin to droop, “next time you’re sick and missing your girlfriend, maybe just talk to someone instead of sitting out here all miserable and alone. I know a certain someone would call you an idiot for doing so.”

Twilight chuckles.

“She would, wouldn’t she?” He chokes out between hacking coughs. “She never held back.”

“No, she really didn’t.”

Warriors holds his trembling shoulders until the coughs are gone again. Then, he pats his shoulder.

“Alright, rancher, let’s get you back. You need your rest.”

Reluctantly, Twilight allows the captain to help him to his feet. He leans heavily against him, exhaustion dragging at his feet. And as the first star blinks itself awake, Warriors turns them toward the warmth of the campfire and their brothers’ company.

The shadows themselves seem to gather in their wake, a protection and an embrace.

[fe-fictions]

Are there any other bath tent prompts left over from The Great Deletion™? (If so, I have a preference for Lon'qu. If not, I just reeeally like bath tent prompts so anyone flies.)

(I have Frederick's still mercifully, but other than that I don't have any left! ;; 3 ;; which sucks because the Basilio and Vaike ones were rly good U m U )

When Frederick heard your scream across camp, he was terrified. Had you been assaulted? Ambushed, or worse?

He grabbed his lance and sprinted off, rushing towards your cries and curses when he found himself in the midst of a very strange scene.

There stood Lord Chrom, the flaps to the women’s bathing tent wide open, and dozens of projectiles. He quickened his pace with the intent to drag Chrom out of the line of fire and engage whoever was throwing things at him.

However, when he came in sight of the thrower, he realized it was you; wrapped crudely in a towel, soaked from head to toe with suds still running along your skin, mid-throw of the last soap dish. His grip tightened on Chrom’s arm. The Exalt was peeping on his wife.

“Would someone please explain what in the gods’ names is going on?!” Frederick demanded icily, quick to turn Chrom away from his view of you. He had yet to release the man, much to his discomfort.

“I-I was just looking for Robin to ask her a question, Frederick! I didn’t realize where I was until she started screaming, a-and then…it was an accident, I swear! I didn’t mean to-”

“Accident?!” You suddenly jumped in, storming over to the pair now covered with your coat. Your face was a deep scarlet, fury barely overruling your embarrassment. “It’s the women’s bath! How hard is it for you to see  that?!”

“She has a point, milord. Surely you should be familiar with the camp’s layout.” Frederick replied, narrowing his eyes at Chrom. “I find it hard to believe you capable of this, but it brings me terrible sorrow and, dare I say, fury, to see you staring at my wife.” He said, and had Chrom shaking  in his boots.

“F-Frederick I swear, I didn’t mean to peep on her, a-and that’s the truth!” Chrom would’ve disappeared if he could. “Please Frederick, Robin’s my best friend! I’d never jeopardize that.”

“I wish to believe you, milord,” Frederick said in a clipped tone as he released the Exalt. He sighed sharply and came to your side, “However, your actions speak louder than your words. For now, return to your duties until I summon you for proper disciplinary action. Understood?”

“Y-yes sir.” Chrom sounded meek and frightened; two things you never thought him capable of.

You watched him trudge off for a few moments before Frederick guided you away, taking your hand tightly in his. The ridged, angry confliction in his expression had yet to fade.

“Until I make my decision, we should get you properly dressed. If I’m not mistaken, I believe you’re in need of clothes beneath that coat.”

“Y-you’re not.” You blushed, the adrenaline and shock of what happened to you slowly starting to fade. Frederick picked up on the warble in your voice swiftly, and could see the unshed tears glistening in your eyes.

He made good time returning to the tent, latching the flap shut and making sure it was absolutely secure. Then he turned his full attention to you, assessing the situation.

You looked down at your feet, your hand never once letting go of his. You had been mortified, and now that the anger cleared, you were nothing short of ashamed.

Wordlessly he detached his chestplate and the armor about his upper body, knowing precisely what you needed. You barely got a question out of your mouth before he  drew you into his embrace.

“F-Frederick…?”

“Forgive me. I was not diligent enough in protecting you.” He murmured in a soft, remorseful whisper that had you frozen. “I failed you, and for that, I must apologize to you, my love.”

“You’re not the one who walked in on me.” You giggled weakly, but reciprocated his hug all the same. You buried your face in his chest, your hot tears dampening his clothes along with your soaking hair.

Frederick didn’t mind it. His fingers gently stroked your hair, the guilt that racked him far more powerful than his anger.

“All is well, my sweet. I highly doubt he did such a thing on purpose. The odds of him speaking to anyone about it is minimum, and if he even considers it I’ll be swift to punish. …Severely.”

All you could do was nod against him, calming yourself down slowly with the help of his gentle touches and reassurances.

At some point he settled you on the bedroll, fetched a towel and worked on drying your hair very gently. His tender touch soothes your shame, all the anxiety and fear you felt as a result of the mad debacle starting to ebb away.

You sigh after some time and bury your face in your hands, letting him continue his sweet ministrations.

“I can’t believe he did that…he saw me, Frederick. Gods, I’m never gonna live it down. It was so embarrassing…and then for you to come and see him, too…” You groaned, and he frowned softly.

“I think no less of you for what happened; you needn’t be ashamed.” He assured you, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “It was an extremely unfortunate accident…at least, that is how I prefer to view it  unless evidence proves otherwise.”

“You really want it to be an accident, don’t you?” You mumbled, slowly turning to look at him. Frederick shifted some and gave a soft grunt, brow furrowed.

“I know that Lady Emmeryn raised him properly, and I was quite strict and attentive, myself. He was brought up with strong morals, and the idea of him peeping on anyone, let alone you, my beloved, is difficult to believe. Lord Chrom is well known for being oblivious, after all.”

“Even to this level?” You replied, unconvinced.

“I wish to punish him severely, my sweet. There is a rage…white and hot that is building whenever I think that he looked upon you…gods, it is infuriating. However, he is also my liege, and the years we’ve spent together, I simply…I find it hard to believe he’d do it on purpose.”

“I want to believe it, too. I hope that your investigation brings about an innocent Exalt.” You offered with a tired sigh, leaning your head against his chest. Frederick set the towel aside and drew his arms around you, his soothing warmth returning and relaxing your tension.

“As do I. …However, regardless of the results, he will still receive harsh punishment.” He stated seriously, making you smile against his skin.

“Harsh, you say? How harsh would you be?”

“Well, we mustn’t forget that it was my wife he looked upon. Therefore, if he did it purposely, he will be worked until his limbs cannot be lifted anymore. Verbal reprimands will carry on for several hours, followed by an extensive lesson on conduct in the army, and three times the chores for the following year.”

“My goodness.” You blushed, “How valiant of you.”

“It is the least I can do for you, Robin. Besides, that’s only off the top of my head. I still have plenty of options to think up.”

“Look at you, defending me as knight and husband.” You smirked up at him, brushing your fingers across his cheek. He took your hand gently and kissed your fingertips, beaming at you.

“I swore to do so, did I not?”

“You did, however…I feel as though I should repay you for your efforts.”

“There is no need for a reward. Easing your worries and bringing justice to milord is reward enough.”

“Then perhaps you could help me with something, instead. So long as you don’t think of it like a reward, it should work just fine.”

"What’s that?”

“Well, Chrom’s eyes did wander a bit. He saw an awful lot of me, you know.” You began, fiddling with the buttons on your coat. “And…I’m not wearing anything beneath this.”

Frederick was very quick to catch on, and grasped your waist, turning you into the bedding and helping you remove the coat.

“Tell me where he looked at you, my precious wife…I will erase his gaze from your body.” He promised with a swift, deep kiss, which was quick to delve into far deeper, sweeter intimacy between you.

Chrom didn’t really see anything, thanks to the thickness of the steam. However, you weren’t about to tell Frederick that, especially not after he ravished you so (and punished Chrom for his foolishness promptly after. The poor Exalt couldn’t look you in the eye for weeks afterwards).

[collectivecloseness]

Omg some more Robin pls?! Maybe some angst or smth?

Enough Sweetness

Robin Buckley x reader

Steve tilted his head up to watch Robin, yet again laughing under his breath, at her humming to another cheesy love song blasting through the radio of family video. This time she was even dancing to it. Again!

He’d let her enjoy her happiness. She genuinely deserved it, and he was kinda living through her vicarious joy in her love life right now. But not when she was about to abdanon him during his shift, and leave him with a tonne of shit to sort. “Hey! Wanna pick up those tapes on the fooor, for the dozenth time?” Steve chirped at her, but he still shook his head as he smiled, when Robin span around to him, beaming widely herself.

Her teeth shone, dancing with the large bag of candyfloss she hadn’t realised she’d been hugging for the past twenty minutes now. “Y/n’s picking me up early. I’ll do it when she gets here!” She waved Steve off, although hopped over to his side, putting away the sugary treat and grinning up at him, so glad each other’s positive energy was bringing the other up more and more! She was still just bouncing on her feet as she stood next to him, asking him yet again if she should change into the other shirt she brought with her, needing his advice with what she should wear on her first date with you.

Yesterday had been massive. An amazing event in Robins usually perilous life. The first time her heart had beat that fast and it wasn’t because of a panic attack, in months. You had asked Robin out, on a date. You!!!

Robin had been desperately and deeply crushing on you for months, ever since you moved to town and became friends with her and Steve! Robin was so pleased you were actually gay, because she had no idea if you had actually been flirting with her when she had with you, holy shit! And thank god you’d been brave enough to make the first move and ask her out, because Robin knew she would’ve been too scared to speak up. Well, minus a trapped life or death situation. Like how she told Steve her... situation.

The entire end of yesterday’s shift, the phone call between the two that had lasted all night, and all of today’s shift, had literally just been Robin and Steve discussing your date tonight! Robin thought Steve was nearly as excited as her. She was so so so glad she could just talk with him about it! Over and over. Even when she was basically just repeating the same thing for the millionth time, Steve still got excited with her when she brought it up, even asking more questions about it that he’d thought up!

They mostly, however, talked about what you two would do, since Robin, half stupidly, said she wanted to be the one to think of the date idea, since you’d been bold enough to ask her in the first place. She panicked until Steve helped her with some ideas, and she finally had decided on a good date! Robin had it all planned out, every detail perfect. She’d even gotten you a present! Just some chocolates. One of the big selection boxes, a brand you specifically brought up liking.

Robin always remembered those things about you. Steve had teased her for an entire month, when on a shopping trip you two had tested loads of perfumes, and then Robin secretly bought the one you liked the most. She did literally douse herself in the stuff, but Steve teasing her about spraying it extra hard whenever you came in, didn’t help her red face when she was trying to get it on with the ladies! Rather, one particular lady. But... those chocolates were golden. Steve said that type of present was okay for a first date too.

Something Robin asked Steve about yet again. Her bag was by the candy section near the front of the store, since you’d be here soon enough and no customers would be at this time. She opened up her bag, showing off the selection box to Steve in person, and not just a peek through her zipped bag. “Are you sure it’s big enough? Or- or is it too big? Or-?”

“Robin it’s chocolate. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Steve chuckled. But Robin only rolled her eyes at him. “You’re a guy, you don’t get it.”

“Well I get dates, since I’ve actually been on some.” Steve teased, raising his elbow up to defend him from Robin’s shove he knew was coming, but both friends still had smirks on their faces. It’d been a part of the reason Robin was so excited anyway. She kept bringing up the last 24 hours how this would be her first proper date!

“Look, y/n will love them. I swear. You didn’t even need chocolate, she likes you.” Steve solemnly vowed, hand to his heart, and the other coming down on Robin’s shoulder. Who just started vibrating under him at the knowledge, like a puppy on a sugar rush. Steve had to physically take his hand back off, she was making it tingly. He still looked at her. Holy shit. Had she just been vibrating this entire time?

“Yeah, but it’ll definitely score points!” Robin chimed, knowingly.

“Well you know what would score points with me? Picking up those tapes I’ve asked you to clear. You said you wanted to split into sections today.”

“Luckily I don’t need to score points with you, I already know you love me.” Robin sung, Steve having his turn to roll his eyes at her now, as Robin moved back over to the wrong side of the room.

“Hey! At least take your bag to the break room. That way I won’t break my neck on that as well.” Steve teased, lifting it up for her to snatch out his hands.

“Okay!” Robin said, balancing her tray of chocolates in one hand and the strap of her bag in the other.

“Y/n will definitely know you’re a creepy stalker if she sees you just staring out the windows.” Steve teased, tidying the tapes on his side of the room, Robin not even caring about giving a comeback today, too cheerful, only a snort, as she turned her back.

But Robin’s luck did have to run out at some point. While she woke up with a great skin day, and she’d found the bottle of conditioner that always made her hair look extra soft, and her best looking clothes had dried in time for her to wear/pack in her work bag... Robin made a mistake.

Robin skipped over to the front desk, where the break room entrance would be. Only to trip over the pile of tapes on her path, and go flying into the dirty carpeted floor.

“Shit!” Steve swore, running over to where he’d seen Robin topple, only hissing as he saw her gift for you, crumpled between her hands and the floor, and the chocolates scattered across the entirety of it. It was broken. But Steve had to quickly move onto Robin, who was face first on the floor, taking her arm and lifting her up a little. “Robin? Hey. Are you okay?” He asked concerned.

Robin felt dazed for a moment, the heels of her hands slightly burning, and embarrassment flooding through her at eating shit like that. But then, as Steve helped her sit up, Robin took sight of all of her chocolates, smashed and thrown around the floor. It was ruined.

Everything was ruined!

Steve’s heart sank deep into his stomach when Robin immediately burst into tears. “Shit, Robin.” He rubbed her shoulder as he stood her up by himself, very little help from his friend, as he quickly determined she wasn’t properly hurt. She was just upset. Her face not red from bashing it, but from how her tears started to flow.

“Sssh ssh ssh ssh. Hey, Robin. It’s okay.” Steve promised, rubbing both her shoulders quickly to try and comfort her, feeling awful as she buried her hand into her face, after staring at more at her gift strewn about.

“Sssshh. I promise y/n won’t mind, eh?” Steve spoke with a smile. But it didn’t work. Robin shook her head vehemently, rubbing the back of her hand against her nose. “No. It’s all ruined!” She sobbed. Steve gave her a quick hug, murmuring a “No it’s not. It’s not ruined.” into her hair, before pulling back with his hands still planted firmly on her shoulders.

Robin only stood in his hold. “I’m so stupid. You told me to pick them up.”

Steve couldn’t have his best friend talking like this, especially not on what was supposed to be one of the best days of her life! “Nah. I’m too bossy, not surprising my words go in one ear half the time.” Steve shrugged, to which, to his glee, gets a small laugh from Robin.

“You’re not bossy.” She moans, sniffling that tiny smile away again.

“Thank you.” Steve still smiles, gratefully holding onto Robin when she pushes herself into his chest for a hug this time. Squeezing her tight in his arms as she hugged his back, his smile dimming a little as he sees the open box, crumpled on the floor. There wasn’t a single chocolate left in the red plastic of the packaging, nothing salvageable. But it wasn’t that big a deal. He just had to focus on Robin right now. Get her happy and date ready again like she was a minute ago.

But then as he pulled back, because he swore he heard her crying more, even though Robin still looked like she needed that hug, Steve’s eyes wandered down. And his face softened in empathy. “Hey... What happened?” He asked gently, looking down to get Robin’s attention on her pant leg, that was very ruffled and messed up, high on her calf.

Robin sniffed, keeping one hand on Steve’s bicep for leverage, as she pulled up her pant leg, and started to feel the small sting of pain now she was moving it about, now she’d noticed it. She had a scrape on her knee. Little dots of blood around a tiny cut, the skin all looking very flushed.

Steve hissed through his teeth, mostly to show Robin he saw it, as he rubbed his hand up her back. “Come on. Let’s go to the break room, get it fixed.”

Steve walked her there, turning on the lights before he propped Robin up on a stool, grabbing the first aid kit and gently dabbing at her scraped knee with an antiseptic wipe. As Robin used the tissues he’d brought, to clean up her snot. Although she was still crying. Steve carefully pressed a bandaid to her knee, before settling on his knees by her front, gently nudging her hand with the back of his finger. “Hey. What’s wrong?” Steve learnt to ask that more than ‘no need to cry’ after that had been ingrained in him as a child. He’d only gotten rid of it after his King Steve days, even then when he was trying to comfort people he cared about.

“It’s okay! You’re still gonna go on your date and have an amazing time. It doesn’t matter that much, really Robin.” He assured her, but he chewed on his lip as Robin didn’t respond, tears still following heavily, only shaking her head with a groan, disagreeing with him.

Steve sighed, deciding to sit down properly at her knees now, knowing that under the layer of glee Robin had for this date, she also was bursting with anxiety. “Why’d you think chocolate would be the end all?”

“It’s not about the chocolate. It’s because it was a gift for her.” Robin explained despondently, her breath hitching with cries as she scrubbed harshly at her cheeks. Who cares? Her make up was ruined now anyways!

“Okay, why do you think a gift would be that important?” Steve decides to ask instead, his own breath catching in his throat at the miserable look Robin gives him from where her head is bowed. Fringe a mess, mascara dabbed under her eyelids, skin flushed under her freckles, and eyes dejected.

“Oh jeez, you’re really nervous aren’t you?” Steve realised, rubbing his hand over the back of his head.

“It’s-“ Robin had to take a deep breath, the action immediately stuttering in her throat, and causing her to sob again. Wiping at the tears still leaking out of her eyes. “It’s not just that it’ll be my first actual date. Or that, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to date that many people. Because I can’t exactly go around saying that I...” She swallowed, tearing up further as her lip trembled. “Saying I like women.”

Steve shuffled closer, resting his hand on her good knee.

“That like, I might not get many opportunities to date. It’s not just that, I-“ Robin heaved a breath that sounded pained, spit flecking out as she breathed. “It’s that... I really, really like her Steve. Like, I don’t just like y/n, I...” This one, Robin found harder to finish. She didn’t wail more, or cover her face, She just needed help in saying it. He nodded in understanding. He already knew. Squeezing her knee, he moved until Robin could catch his eyes. “I really really really like her Steve. I like her so much. And I just... I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t like me that way. If we go on a date, and she wasn’t really that serious, or she decides I’m not good enough-!”

“Hey! Nobody could think that.” Steve shook his head as he stopped her there. Eyes serious but empathetic up at her.

And Robin nodded, taking his hand that was on her knee into both her own. Holding them tight, as she tries to come down.

Steve can tell she really does believe him, so he shimmies a little closer, his feet jammed against hers as he adds. “I mean hey, didn’t she ask you out?”

Robin laughed. A shy and excited little “Yeah.” leaving her lips, like she still couldn’t quite believe it herself. It was really a good for her moment. And she squeezes her best friends hand in excitement as she recalled the happy memory, Steve squeezing back.

“What the hell happened in here?!?”

Robin and Steve’s heads both shot to the closed door of the break room, instantly recognising your voice. And realising you must’ve seen the scene of scattered tapes and ruined chocolates all over the floor, with no one in sight.

The two both froze, before turning back to look at each other. With only knowing looks, no words, passing by the duo, Steve easily recognised that Robin wanted him to go out first, and get you.

Which is what he did, Robin watching him stand and open the door, hearing him mumbling to you about her, as she sniffed, and desperately tried to wipe at her eyes. Oh my god. How much snot did she have in her? And why could she still not stop crying??!

When you entered the break room after Steve had somewhat explained the front, your heart broke as you saw your Robin. Sitting there on a stool, looking so small, as she looked up at you with a tear streaked face, pant leg lifted and a bandaid on her knee. “Hey! Hey sweet girl. What happened?” You asked, walking towards her.

Robin looked up at you sadly, eyes blurry from her tears, feeling like her shaky lip was about to form a pout. And all she wanted to do was reach her arms up for you.

But she didn’t need to. Because you swooped straight down to her level, enveloping her in a big hug. Robin cried more into your shoulder as you did so. Not loudly, but knowing she was letting drool and tears onto your jacket and still clinging to you anyway. Little hiccups leaving her as you pulled gently away, rubbing her leg up and down above her sore knee. “Hey sweetheart, you’re okay. What happened?”

Robin took some shaky breaths, still clinging onto your jacket as you held her arms, her voice a little shaky too. “Th- the chocolates.”

“Were they for me?” You asked, with a sweet and surprised smile.

Robin nodded. Wanting to bemoan ‘I ruined it’, but finding herself unable to with that smile you were giving her.

“Oh Robbie, that’s so sweet! Thank you honey.” You hugged around Robin’s neck, swaying her a little, with your cheek pressed to hers. And Robin couldn’t help but close her eyes, and take a breath, clinging onto your arms that were wrapped so lovingly around her neck, and just letting you sway her.

“It’s okay, thank you for the gift anyway sweetie, I saw it. That was so sweet. They looked nice.” You spoke warmly.

Robin nodded, sniffing as she clenched her hands back and forth over the arms of your jacket. She was about to say, that she just wanted everything to be perfect, to prove to you, but she was cut off by you talking first.

“I don’t think I need that much more sweetness though, do I honey?” You grinned wide, before leaning up and giving Robin a big kiss to her cheek.

It made her giggle, actually giggle. Even though it was sappy. But she knew that was the point. You were trying to make her laugh.

But as Robin’s giggles died down, you gave a tilt of your head with a small shrug, saying a causal “Also” before pulling out from your bag, the exact same box of chocolates.

“Holy shit.” Robin laughed in a breath, still sounding a little congested. You wiped her tears softly with the back of your hand. “Yeah. Seems like we have a lot more in common than we thought. And we haven’t even started the date yet!” You smiled, and Robin smiled shyly but excitedly back, hiding her freckled face that was red for a different reason now. “So I think you’re doing a pretty good job so far.” You winked, and your hands dropped from Robin’s shoulders to her lap. Where Robin could pick them up into her own, and hold them.

Robin sniffed, most of her tears having stopped now at least, and you freed one hand to rub at her hurt leg again. “C’mon. Let’s clean up that pretty face, after Steve took my shining knight moment of helping your poor leg.” You smiled, taking Robin’s hand to help stand her up, and keeping a hold of it, as well as still looking at her, while you walked her over to the basin in the room.

Robin stammered out, finally able to make a joke “I might’ve bled out first, before you got here.”

You grinned at your date. “Well, did Steve get to do this?” You asked, getting on your knees in front of Robin, and kissing her sore knee.

Robin sucked her lips in with her smile as you did so, holding her hand out for you this time, to help you up. Something she felt so grateful for, to feel you holding back. “No.” She sniffed. “Bastard.”

You threw your head back at her joke, eyes shining on hers as you laughed with her hand still in yours. And Robin beamed with pride banging in her chest.

She finally relaxed as she let you wash her face up. Blowing her nose a little disgustingly, but you didn’t seem to care. You stroked back her hair that was sticking to her cheeks with the water, before giving a smiling pout, knowing her tears and your wet cloth had kinda messed with her look. “Oh your pretty make up. I know I worked hard today on mine too.”

You made Robin shy, looking to the trash can before binning her tissue, pivoting a little on her feet with a burning smile. How long had you been doing and redoing your make up? Were you freaking out about what to wear like she was? Just for your date with her?

“Guess I’ll have to freshen up your make up for you, huh sweetheart?” You took Robin’s face in your hands, wiping your thumbs on the glowing parts of her cheeks where tears had rolled before. Robin nodded at your grin, loving that you were holding her face. And knowing you were hinting at touching it more, by doing her make up for her. “Yeah,” Robin started, finally feeling the flirty part of her beat the anxious one, as her hand stroked the back of your own affectionately. “I think I still feel all lightheaded from the fall, so...”

You wanted to kiss Robin right now. You’d tell her that, later, after your first kiss. You’d tell her all the times you wanted to kiss her beautiful face. But instead, you held yourself back by nodding. Gently squeezing her warm cheeks once more, before tilting her head closer to you and kissing her other cheek this time. “Okay then. And you’ve still got to tell me where you’re taking me on our date! I’ve been so excited since yesterday!”

Robin’s eyes widened. Finally clear enough to see you again, and so wonderstruck grateful at what she saw. God, she couldn’t wait to kiss you!

[nixie-deangel]

🍼🍼 and 🍷 please? I’m obsessed.

🍼 non navy bradley/fighter pilot jake as parents - hangster

“Love you more,” Jake murmurs back before he can even finish telling him. “You and Emmy and any other kid we might have. Y’all are the loves of my goddamn life, Bradshaw.” “Same for me, sweetheart,” Bradley breathes out. “Felt like I was half living until I got you, and Emmy. Any other kid we might have is just gonna add to what you brought to my life. To what Emmy did. Make up my heart and soul, baby. Always will.”

🍷 Jake's family causes the hangster break up

He stares, wide eyed and fearful for a beat before he seemingly slams back into himself. Shooting up from the stool, he rushes out of the bar. Only thinking about how he needs to get away and now, as he breaks out into a run.  Bradley doesn’t know how far he gets from the Hard Deck before he hears Jake’s shouted question.

Make Nixie Write!

[resident-gay-bitch]

“you’re here…” eddie said, his voice still quite weak and full of rasp from just waking up. he blinked a few times and looked at the three people standing around him, “wh- why are you here?”

“because we’re friends, dingus.” robin snorted, punching him (super dooper lightly) on the arm.

“and we went through hell together.” nancy said with a nod of her head, her grip loosening and tightening on the end of his hospital bed where she was standing.

“and you kept dustin safe, even though i specifically told you not to play hero.” steve said with a scowl, sitting on the edge of eddie’s bed, down by his knees with his arms crossed.

eddie blushed a little.

“and not to mention steve was literally the one who carried you outta that hell!” robin added, and the was immediately scolded by steve, “what?”

“you didn’t have to tell him that!” steve bickered.

“well, he deserves to know!”

“you didn’t have to remind him so soon!”

“you carried me out of there?” eddie asked.

steve turned a pretty shade of red, and before he could answer, robin was talking again, “yeah! he was all like… big man carrying you on his shoulders, covered in blood and looking all stoic.”

“robin!” steve swatted her shoulder.

“it’s true…” robin mused.

“it is. i was there.” nancy shrugged.

eddie looked at steve, trying to picture it. very much trying to picture it. steve carried him out of there? steve literally lifted his dead weight onto his shoulders and carried him out of hell?

well if that wasn’t the most romantic thing eddie’s ever encountered, then romance had to be dead.

“well, i couldn’t just leave you.” steve shrugged, hiding away a bit.

“he didn’t even stop to smell the flowers.” robin kept going, “just… one minute we heard dustin’s screaming and then we saw you dead on the floor, and then…”

“steve was in action.” nancy continued for her, “dropped to his knees, grabbed you, threw you over his shoulder and then started shouting at everyone to kick them into action.”

“and the whole time he was talking to you, trying to keep you alive!” robin said, “like, sure, you may have had your hero moment, eddie- but as dustin said, steve saved the day.”

eddie looked at steve with wide eyes, full of awe. steve didn’t hesitate to save his ass? gosh darn, this man was full of surprises!

okay, yeah, sure, saving someones life who is on the brink of death isn’t that romantic… but think about the circumstances; end of the world happening, eddie litteraly not breathing and bleeding uncontrollably, dustin having a meltdown, their own damn lives to protect, and eddie and steve barely even knew eachother and… and he just saved him. without a second thought.

plus, not many people wanted to save eddie these days.

so eddie was taking this as romance because why the fuck wouldn’t he? he’d take what he could fucking get with this glorious man.

“yeah, well…” steve huffed, folding his arms tighter over his chest with a shrug, “i had other things to worry about. i couldn’t just sit around and cry.”

oh right. max.

“red…” eddie swallowed, “is she okay?”

the room fell silent for a minute.

nancy was the first to speak, over a swallow, “she’s alive.”

eddie let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

“he got her though.” she said again, the only one brave enough to speak about it right now, “all her bones are broken… she’s not waking up anytime soon.”

“oh.” is all eddie could say.

“lucas is with her every day.” steve said, as if he was more so trying to convince himself it was okay, rather than eddie, “she’s going to wake up, and everything will be okay.”

eddie nodded.

he wasn’t ready to ask about the fate of the world yet.

“don’t you folks have better things to do today?” eddie asked, forcing a little laugh, “i don’t even know what day it is.”

robin laughed a little with him, “it’s tuesday. and… well, steve an i lost our jobs to a second supernatural occurrence, so…”

“and schools canceled.” nancy offered, “semester won’t start back up for another month, and they’re going to cram all the final exams into the start of summer.”

eddie didn’t want to ask why school wasn’t in session.

“you still have a chance to graduate.” steve said with a smile, and eddie blinked at him, “dustin told us.”

“oh.” eddie swallowed, graduating was the last thing he was thinking about right now, “okay.”

“that’s not important now, anyway.” robin pet his shoulder sweetly, “what is important is that you’re alive and on the mend.”

eddie smiled.

“dustin’s gonna freak.” steve said, “it’s just… eddie this, eddie that- more than usual, man! it’s insufferable. i feel like i know more about you than i know about myself now. he more than worships you.”

eddie turned a little pink at that. one; dustin admired him? so much? like, enough to never fucking shut up about him? and two; steve knows all about eddie? does… does he care? does he like to listen? could they be friends? could they be more?

“where is he? is he okay?”

steve nodded, “yeah, he’s doing the best he can… he’s with max right now, he’s going to be here in about… twenty minuets.”

eddie smiled and settled down into his bed, excited for dustin’s visit, “cool.”

“metal?” steve asked with a scrunched up face.

eddie looked at him and laughed, shook his head, “that’s for totally awesome things, steve. like you biting that bats head off, and me shredding the most epic guitar solo in all the lands.” he grinned, “but i admire you’re effort, so i’m giving you an A plus.”

steve laughed, “thank you. that’s the highest grade i’ve gotten since i was fourteen.”

eddie laughed some more, “i’m glad i could be the one to bestow it upon you, oh white knight.”

“oh, white knight!” steve grinned, “that’s a pretty high honour.”

eddie raised his eyebrows slightly, “yes… it is.”

steve smiled and it was kind of smuggish, “well i thank you for knighting me as such. i’ll wear the badge with pride and serve you well.”

eddie looked at him for a moment and then fucking burst out laughing. he laughed so hard he had tears and strained his stitches. oh, steve. steve was indulging his weird, nerdy humour. no doubt dustin’s doing, but still… oh, eddie thought he might love him.

steve laughed too, and somehow they ended up laughing with their fingers intertwined.

“from king to knight…” eddie said and flicked away a tear, “some would say that’s a downgrade.”

“well, if i’m here to protect you then i call it an upgrade.” steve countered.

eddie’s lips parted at that, his eyes blown a little wide. he felt steve squeeze his hand.

“well…” eddie hummed, fighting off the flutter in his heart, “i’ll have you know, i have no regard for my own personal saftey… ever- you’ve seen me jump off of cafeteria tables at lunch, so protecting me is a pretty heart feat.”

“all the more reason to do it, ed’s.” steve said with a sweet smile and- fuck it, eddie was embracing the heart flutters.

only then did he noticed that they were sitting in this room alone- the door clicking shut from where the girls had snuck away.

“you shouldn’t promise that.” eddie said quietly, “you might regret it.”

“i won’t.” steve shrugged and squeezed eddie’s hand again, “i’ve already made the promise to dustin, and to wayne, and to gareth, most importantly to myself… and now im making it to you.”

“steve…” eddie whispered.

“don’t.” steve said, shuffling a little closer, “i know… i know, eddie.”

eddie swallowed, “you do?”

steve nodded, “let me promise it to you?”

eddie looked at him for a moment, searching his eyes. eyes that he’d been longing to search through for years, and now he finally could.

now they were finally something.

“okay.” eddie said simply, his voice barely a whisper, “okay, but you have to let me promise it too.”

steve shook his head with a smile, “only after you’re up and walking again.”

“physically… deal.” eddie nodded, pressed his free hand onto steve’s heart, “in here? right now.”

steve sighed and sunk a little bit, “okay.” he nodded, “i’ll let you promise that.”

“good.” eddie smiled, “because you didn’t really have a say in the matter.”

steve laughed and ducked his head to lean it on eddie’s shoulder, and eddie pressed his cheek to steve’s hair. they stayed like that for a moment. eddie worked up the courage to drag his fingers up steve’s back and curl them into the soft hair at the back of his neck. steve sighed into it, folding himself into eddie further.

steve lifted his head after a while, now much closer to eddie than he was before, and he smiled with a warm flush in his cheeks that eddie was sure matched his own. steve still held his hand, and it was warm and a little clammy, both of them riddled at nerves with this something.

but both of them happy with it too.

steve blinked and then lowered his eyes to eddie’s lips and… oh, eddie’s heart was beating so hard in his chest right now he thought it might break a rib. but, well, if there was any place for that to happen, it would be right here, so bring on the rapid heart rate!

steve leant in a little.

eddie did too.

they were awfully close, almost touching when dustin slammed open the door with a loud bang, “eddie!”

they quickly pulled away with a laugh and steve quickly jumped into action of grabbing dustin around the waist and tugging him back before he could body slam eddie and open all of his stitches.

once dustin’s original over the top excitement dropped a notch, steve let him go and he sunk into eddie’s arms.

the kid was warm and soft and felt just the same as eddie remembered. they both cried a little. eddie looked up at steve with wet eyes over dustin’s shoulder as they cuddled, half listening to dustin’s excited rambles about how he knew eddie would wake up soon, and they laughed quietly together.

they had something, and that was okay, but it could wait a little longer before it became everything. right now, dustin needed his eddie, and eddie needed his dustin, and steve wanted nothing more than to give them all they needed with a smile.

[kafkaesthes]

And nobody would ever see us anymore

📓 : honkai: star rail. blade & kafka. general audiences.

🖇️ : hurt/comfort, mostly comfort, character study, fluff with no plot, mentions of death, no beta, result of brainrot, just blade sleeping against kafka while she hums gymnopedie no. 1

An endless sea of stars was the only light that illuminated their ship and yet Kafka didn’t need more to see the obvious displeasure on Blade’s face.

Blade, who sat in front of Kafka on their ship cabin as they ascended further away into space, had this silent, troubled look about him again.

After the events in Luofu, it was no surprise to her to see the eerily silent disposition Blade has taken up on. It was not his usual mood of persistent quiet and solitude— no, Kafka assumes this to be somewhat deeper and personal.

Now, Kafka was not one to pry.

In essence, the Stellaron Hunters should primarily be co-workers more than anything. Though she would be lying if she denied certain friendships formed along the way— but that was certainly too wholesome of a term for them.

They’re more complex to put a word to, but one thing was for certain: intimate relationships skirting more than ‘friendships’ risks danger to Elio’s scripts, and without their sense of purpose, what would all this make of them?

Exactly the reason why both Blade and Kafka understood clearly the nature of their relationship.

She was his tether, his leash; He was her weapon, her Blade.

Surely there was a physical attraction too, to which they’ve indulged themselves in countless of times across several missions all over the galaxy, but that intimacy was purely physical and nothing else.

And yet, at the sight of his seemingly melancholic mood, Kafka wanted nothing more than to dissect it apart and study piece by piece the reasons for someone who swore to be nothing else but a weapon is able to feel so human.

Perhaps it was her fascination in understanding emotions she could not feel; perhaps it was her own pursuit of the rough beauty of his agony that pleasured her. Either reason made sense, and yet Kafka knows it was not the entire truth.

“Kafka.”

The sound of her name rolling off his tongue finally snaps her out of her thoughts. Her? Lost in her thoughts? It was an occurrence that rarely ever happens and so as if second nature, she smiles at him, coy and almost sultry just to distract him of that fact.

“Yes, Bladie?”

And yet Blade sees it too— the performance of it all.

Kafka was a talented actor. Flawless, even, as she always is in most things she enjoyed to do, but nothing of her nature seemed to slip past his keen gaze. Not even her alluring smile could distract him from the hidden curiosity brewing deep in those lilac eyes.

When they first met, Blade was all rough edges and sharp teeth. She defeated him in that battle though he barely recalled the details of it. The only lasting memory he remembered is one of how he died at her hands— and the peace he felt in that momentary ‘death’.

It was different from the previous deaths his immortality cursed him; in those deaths, he remembers the feeling of the weapon piercing his skin, how his blood felt warm as it rushed out of his body, how he could still taste the iron in his tongue. His vision would flood with red and then he’d feel his muscles stitch back together in endless persistence of inflicting him agony.

Only by the death at her hands did he experience peace— at first, he thought the monster inside him subsided, that this would be it. But no. The monster was still there, it simply listened to her.

It was such a rare marvel in all his hundred years that he simply allowed it and followed her through in seeking destiny.

It was her gift, it seems— an ability she masterfully uses for manipulation. Though for Blade, it was his peace and saving grace.

“Listen, Bladie, unleash the mara.”

When she needed a weapon, she simply had to tell him so.

“Listen, Bladie, loosen up.”

And when its all over, she simply had to sheathe the weapon back and the monster inside him listened obediently.

“Listen, don’t think about anything at all.”

Even at times when thoughts flooded his senses and the overwhelming grief was too much, she only had to speak and it would all be gone in an instant.

Those were the same words she uttered to him when they first met and he agreed with a nod at her then, feeling the emotions subside to a calm.

Though now that he recalls it, he wonders if she actually used her ability on him. He still remembers a singular thought that pestered him that moment: how she smiled at him, and how he thought how sad that smile looked.

It was the same smile she’s giving him now.

“Earth to Bladie? Hello?” she repeats again, her voice always calming him even without the use of her ability. “You’re staring.”

At the mention, Blade instantly looked away, setting his gaze back to the endless sea of stars beyond them.

“You stared first.” he replies.

Kafka chuckles, almost shy and amused, though Blade knows it was only an act.

“I couldn’t help it, Bladie.” she reasons, leaning back comfortably on her seat. “You were having this look on your face again.”

‘This look’ , Blade sighs at it, closing his eyes and wishing away his previous thoughts before they drifted to Kafka.

Even without saying it, Blade could anticipate the next words coming out of her mouth. He knew her too well, and she knew him well enough to see the pain he keeps.

“Do you want me to whisper them away?” she offers kindly, though he assumes this not to be true either.

Kafka simply offered for the sake of the next mission they were heading to. She would need a weapon then; an efficient and sharp one, not the kind that he is right now.

Kafka has already done so much to get him back to his senses. Blade already felt uselessly reliant on the peace her voice brings him.

“No.” he answers curtly, silently insisting himself to fix it on his own. “I’m fine.”

Kafka hums, a sound that said ‘if you say so’ without even uttering the words out loud.

Still, Blade could still feel her gaze prickling his skin, demanding to be acknowledged.

He could never refuse her for long.

“Kafka.”

“You’re thinking deeply. What are you thinking about, Bladie?”

A forgotten part of Blade deep inside him instinctively answered home as he thought of Luofu. He didn’t even know he was still capable of this feeling— didn’t even know he was capable of remembering his history past the hurt and suffering blinding it all together.

And yet, back in Luofu, some of it came back to him like a movie in which he was both audience and main actor.

Pain, nostalgia, suffering, betrayal— they all molded together inside Blade’s mind and he wanted nothing more than to stop thinking.

These were not memories of home, and even if Blade had the vaguest idea of home, home would not give him the peace he seeks.

Only Kafka could give him that. She even offered her abilities and he knew it would work. The memories would condense back into the deepest recesses of his mind and he’d be numb of feeling this pain— finally at momentary peace.

But until when would he be reliant on her?

Blade knew more than anyone about the dangers they face, especially the dangers Elio’s scripts always pose upon them. And as always, Kafka was at the center of it all.

Unlike him, she is not immortal, and yet her lack of fear convinces most people she is.

That’s why he was needed for the next part of the script. To be her protection, to be her weapon. Blade could not allow danger to befall her. Though her skill in battle is not to be underestimated, a nagging fact keeps pestering his thoughts, troubling him to the point of silence and contemplation—

Kafka was mortal, beautifully and tragically so.

The thought of losing her felt too much pain enough as it is.

“The mission.” he answers instead, finally turning back to stare at those lilac eyes.

They seem to be staring past the white lie he gives, and Kafka thinks he’s right to assume so.

She didn’t buy the reason one bit but Blade already declined her offer to whisper to him.

Kafka always respected his decisions, so she doesn’t push further, even when she notices how he looks more exhausted than he lets on, even when she knew that grief was ripping apart every fibre of his immortal being.

Instead, she gets up.

Blade thought she was about to leave him alone— it was the last thing he wants— and he almost stops her from doing so until he realizes she simply circled over to his side of the seat, placing herself next to him.

“I understand. But we’re not due to another warp until tomorrow.” she says simply, placing an elbow on the table and placing her chin on her open palm, her face turned to the side to look at him.

“Relax, Bladie.”

Being under her whisper numerous times already, Blade knows the familiar grasp of it to his subconscious. It always felt like a string, wrapping and coiling around him at the sound of her velvet voice, caught like an insect on the spider’s web. He also knew the tone of her voice when she made an order but this one, none of those things were this.

Her suggestion to relax merely sounded like a request.

And even then, ‘relax’ was a word not in his dictionary. Blade didn’t know what to do with himself.

To Kafka, it was obvious the thoughts still troubled him. She didn’t even understand why his troubles bothered her too: was it because of their upcoming mission? Is it a leadership instinct to keep the team in tact? Is it still her curiosity to pry apart the emotion he feels to study for herself?

But Kafka knows Blade’s signs. She could see when he’d need her to whisper to him, she understands her responsibility to keep him in check.

This time though… it doesn’t seem like the mara is the one causing his internal struggle.

Kafka would rationalize with herself all she wants of the reason why she was so insistent to help with his worries, pointedly evading the truth of it all.

The truth that she cared for someone other than her own. The truth that she was able to feel it in her own way.

It was not part of the script.

It was not a move she planned on or an emotion she foresaw. It didn’t even seem like an emotion she thought herself capable of. Her affections for Blade was like an extension of herself, they were hers and she saw him as a part of her being.

Still, all of this feelings were foreign to her.

It was not part of the script…

…then again, if it wasn’t, then why should it matter?

Kafka gracefully stretches her arms out, yawning into her palm. By all means, she was not tired, but it was easy to pretend just to be able to lean her head to his side, her head resting on his solid shoulder.

“Mmn, we should rest, Bladie.”

Blade made a low sound that vibrated in his throat. Kafka has learned to understand that as his sound of agreement.

She made no move and simply rested herself next to him like that. Blade didn’t dare to move either.

In their silence, they both found their own comfort.

It was Blade’s voice that broke the silence, “Tell me a story, Kafka.”

With her eyes still closed, she hums, pondering which story to tell him this time.

A more recent memory came to mind: of dinner parties and expensive gowns, of pearl necklaces and tailored suits. Kafka told him that story, even when Blade himself was a part of it.

Could you blame her? Seeing her Bladie in a suit was a core memory even when there were parts of the night she’d rather forget.

On the other hand, Blade knew better than to bring those parts up— he’s always so obedient, isn’t he? Or perhaps he simply did not find interest in doing so. Blade rarely ever finds interest in anything, really…

Except this time, Kafka finds the reason for his unresponsiveness.

As Blade’s weight slowly piled on the crown of her head, Kafka heard the low rumble of his chest— Blade has fallen asleep, leaning into her with his arms crossed over his chest.

Still, Kafka finished her story, voice going lower until it almost seemed like she was whispering her words to float within his dreams. All the while, she carefully slips the sword clutched in his arms and placed them carefully beside her.

Blade was still in deep sleep as she replaced the sword with her own arm, looping it around his as she made herself comfortable against his shoulder.

Then, she closed her eyes, humming a classical piece she knew like the back of her hand.

The sound of his breathing was the deep undertone to her own orchestra, and she knew no other melody could be any better than the one they made.

AUTHOR’S NOTES

cross-posted on AO3. english is not my first language and i wrote this in my notes so apologies for errors. i was brainrotting so bad i had to get them out of my system.

title is taken from the quote:

I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more. — Franz Kafka, The Castle

created by omamorens. please do not plagiarize.