#it would be a lot EASIER to IGNORE IT if i could FALL BACK ASLEEP

[zukkaoru]

they should invent a me who can sleep through the night

[icallhimjoey]

eddie?! 👀 did you say EDDIE?!?! 👀👀👀👀

i DID say eddie! i had a tiny idea that fit the version of eddie ive written before (and the only version of eddie ive written before) and so... here we are. i am: so sorry. Wordcount: 6.6K

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Let’s Go Home

(find all other parts of this story here)

“Let’s go get him.”

You sound very determined for someone completely unsure of how to handle the situation. It’s difficult to watch someone so deeply unhappy struggle with parts of their past they can’t seem to get a grip on.

“I… what?” two wet, red-rimmed eyes stare back at you. Confused. A little annoyed.

“Yea. Come on. Let’s go. We’re packing our bags and we’re going to go pick him up and bring him back here.”

Eddie doesn’t get it. Frowns, entirely unsure of who you’re talking about.

“Steve’s already here… and Wayne is coming here for Christmas, we don’t need to–…” he looks so tired.

“I know we don’t need to.”

It always happened when the days got a little shorter. When the nights got colder and Christmas loomed. When happy, wholesome family moments would be advertised all over the world, and it all became glaringly obvious – once again – how that was something Eddie never got to be a part of when he was little. Not until Wayne took him in and tried his best to make the holidays special in his own way.

No matter how hard Wayne tried, though, the bitter aftertaste of abandonment and loneliness was impossible to get rid of.

Eddie would never admit this to Wayne, but celebrating Christmas just the two of them felt just as pathetic and lonely as it had done when he lived with his parents still.

Different.

Definitely not as traumatizing, which was good.

But still dreary, and sad, with a lot of playing pretend that he was okay and happy and fine.

He was never okay and happy and fine.

Still isn’t okay and happy and fine.

That’s not Wayne’s fault, Eddie knows, and he feels like a shitty person because Wayne always tried his best. Did what he could. It just never quite worked.

Christmas would roll around, and Eddie would get depressed.

That’s just what happened.

Eddie would slip into sadness, scary thoughts intruding happy places they weren’t allowed to settle into, but he’d not yet learnt how to tell them to fuck off. To leave him alone. Didn’t know how to get the uninvited guests out of his house, and felt powerless as he watched them settle into his living room. Nothing he could do about it.

Somber, pensive moments would slowly stretch until they covered most of the day. Mornings were the happiest, still. He’d wake up after falling asleep eventually, never managing to slip into dreams before 3 AM, and for a moment, he’d forget. The short amount of sleep would have him tired enough to not remember the reality of his life for a second, and in those moments, it would just be you in bed with him and that would be the only thing in existence.

It’s awful to feel reality set into someone’s body mid-hug.

You wish you knew how to keep it out.

Over the years Eddie had learnt he had to vocalize his feelings. His thoughts. Knew that a burden shared was a burden halved, but knowing things in theory didn’t make them easier in practice.

“What can I do? Let me help.” You’d whisper, and Eddie was lucky you’d known each other for so long. There were no worried questions of are you okay, or a concerned soft hey what’s wrong.

You know he’s not okay, and you know what’s wrong.

“You, here. That’s all you need to do.” Eddie would murmur and he’d pull you in to hold you for a short while. And sometimes, that would temporarily fix him.

There is part of Eddie that honestly thinks if he doesn’t think about it, that it’ll be okay.

If he ignores it for long enough, it might go away by itself.

He’s lucky that sometimes, it does.

He pretends that the foundation of shit that he’d been given for his life hasn’t got all the cracks in. The house he has tried to build on top might shake a bit in the wind, but he can convince himself that the strong support beams that have been put in place will make sure the whole thing doesn’t collapse.

But it’s getting closer and closer to Christmas, and he’s sinking deeper and deeper into everything that’s dark, and cold, and uncomfortable, and painful, and scary.

Everything is designed to make people feel happy around this time of year, and he’s in LA where the sun shines all year long and it doesn’t even really get cold at all. Not like it gets cold in Hawkins. The days don’t really get that much shorter, and he can go outside in a T-shirt and be fine. But maybe that’s precisely the problem right now; there’s no quick get inside the house, and no let me warm your hands up for you.

The comfort of a frozen nose that get nuzzled back to life is unattainable in LA.

“Can you go to another meeting? Would that help, do you think?” you silently ask him one evening, hidden under the covers and too tired to stay awake for much longer, even though you know Eddie’s wide awake next to you. He’ll toss and turn for a couple more hours after you’ve drifted off.

“Yea, of course. I should.” Eddie is quick to reply, but you know he doesn’t want to.

Talking about his addiction with strangers when he’s trying his best to pretend it’s not there will just make things worse, he thinks. Logically, he knows it probably won’t, but there’s always that fear.

“Can I join you?”

You feel how Eddie shifts in bed, probably to take a look at you, but your eyes are closed and you’re about to fall asleep. This isn’t the time to fall into a conversation in which he asks you why on earth you would want to hear a lot of people you don’t know talk about a lot of drastic measures you don’t need to know people let themselves be pushed to sometimes.

So instead, you feel a kiss press to your temple, and he whispers, “Sure you can.”

At first, Eddie doesn’t say much in the meeting you join him for. You mostly listen to issues other people bring forward, and try to think of things you’d do if Eddie was the person speaking. If he was the one with all of those problems. How would you help?

How would you fix it?

When a kind, soft-spoken voice asks if there’s anyone new who wants to share, a lot of eyes fall on you, and you shift in your seat. Sit up a little. Feel Eddie squeeze your hand in his which could have meant, it’s okay, you can tell people why you’re here, but instead it means, I got this.

Eddie talks.

Tells everyone about how he feels like he’s deep in a depression and that he doesn’t really know how to get out of the dark pit he’s fallen into.

How it feels like he’s five years old and stuck in a small dark room, and he’s feeling all over the walls but can’t locate the light switch, and the longer he’s looking, the more he starts feeling claustrophobic in there.

You make the mistake of asking him if he can call out for help.

“Have you tried asking? Maybe someone else can turn the light on for you…”

Eddie breaks down, elbows on his knees, face hidden from the group as he looks at the wooden floor boards through his tears.

It’s not your fault.

Eddie doesn’t expect you to understand the feeling of being so utterly helpless and alone that he knows there’s no use in even trying to call for help.

No one would’ve answered.

You scoot your seat closer to his, and lean into his side as you wrap an arm around his back, fingers curling around his shoulder. It’s nice. He needs it. He also knows there’s thirteen pairs of eyes on him and he doesn’t know how to tell you that no matter how hard you’ll try, you won’t be able to actually fix anything.

“Let me turn the light on. Let Steve, or let Wayne– Robin… we can all help turn the light on. We’ll fly Wayne out, Robin too, and anyone else that you want. They can all move in, we have the space for it. Just… please, let us turn the light on, Eddie…”

It’s the fucking sweetest thing he’s ever heard, but he can reach for the light himself now. He can find it in the dark, and he can turn it on. The problem is that it doesn’t make a fucking difference.

Turning a light on now doesn’t change anything about his past.

Eddie gets asked if he has anything more to share. He sniffs and wipes his face with both his hands before he sits up and leans back and says, “Thank you, but um, no. I don’t. It’s this time of year, I guess. I know it’ll pass.”

You hold hands, fingers intertwined, as you listen to everyone else share more of their own personal issues, and when you leave Eddie puts his arm around you and pulls you close to kiss the side of your face. He tells you that he loves you, that he’s glad that he came, and he thanks you for coming with him.

You can see in his eyes that none of it helped.

Eddie lets himself sink deeper and all you can really do is be there for him. Be there when he wakes up and be there when he goes to sleep. You give him the gift of routine. Of healthy meals. Of pleasant walks outside. Long showers after.

It helps.

But it doesn’t fix anything.

You try your best at damage control. Talk to Steve. Call Wayne a lot.

And it helps.

But about two weeks later, Eddie starts isolating.

He had never isolated before.

Not like this.

He’s in his home studio, hyperfocussing on four seconds of a song he’s working on, and when you interrupt to tell him you’re going to go to bed, he says he’ll come up in a minute. He just needs to figure this bit out. “I’m so close, I can taste it.” Eddie smiles a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and for a moment you think Eddie’s going to let you listen to his work in progress. He always asks for your opinion, but this time he doesn’t. He just looks at you with a smile that’s just there for reassurance until you leave him alone.

At 5 AM you get woken up by Steve, who softly says, “You need to come downstairs…” and leads the way for you.

“I got up to pee, and the bathroom is right above the studio…”

You find Eddie in the exact same spot, going over the exact same four seconds of music.

He looks like he’s being tortured, barely able to keep his eyes open. When you gently pry the guitar from his hands, his breathing changes, and you think if he would have had the energy to sob, he would have cried like a child.

“Let’s go to bed, Eddie.”

Eddie lets you take him upstairs, but then locks himself in the bathroom and when you ask if he can let you in, all you can hear are soft sniffles whilst the shower runs.

It’s then that you decide.

Something is different this time around.

Something deeper has bubbled up, and you know whatever you are doing here, in LA, to help him simply will not be enough.

You establish a plan and pull out two suitcases that you place onto your bed. You’re going to pack your bags and you’re going to go get him.

It’s clearly necessary.

Eddie is no longer letting you comfort him and you’re scared that the next step is going to be a relapse.

“What are you doing?”

“Let’s go get him.”

“I–… what?”

Eddie hasn’t slept, and his unwashed hair is wet from the shower he’s sat in for a while, and you’re very calmly and methodically folding clothes into a suitcase. You might as well be speaking in a different language right now.

“Yea. Come on. Let’s go. We’re packing our bags and we’re going to go pick him up and bring him back here.”

Eddie slowly moves to sit down on the bed, and he looks at what you’re doing for a moment before he sighs and softly says, “Steve’s already here… and Wayne is coming here for Christmas, we don’t need to–…”

He stops speaking when he sees your slight smile.

“I know we don’t need to.” You say and Eddie doesn’t like how you look at him with so much care in your eyes. He doesn’t think he deserves it.

Doesn’t deserve you.

“Do you want to bring both of your black hoodies?” you then ask, not giving him a chance to question what’s happening, and so he just goes, “Yea… yea, sure.” before he lets himself fall backwards onto the mattress where he shuts his eyes.

You let Eddie sleep for as long as sleep will hold him. Pack up both suitcases and let Steve help you book travel back home.

“Do you want to come?” you ask when Steve is on the phone to a travel agent. He is listening to the woman who’s reading him back information he’s just given her, so he can’t answer you, but he reaches out and holds your hand whilst you listen to him book two tickets to Indiana.

When he gets off the phone he reaches for your other hand as well and says, “I’ll watch the house.”

You give him a slight frown. “You know he’d love you to come with us… Wayne says Hawkins is covered in snow. We could watch Christmas films in the trailer… get Robin and run across Lover’s Lake again… or, call Dustin and, I don’t know, Eddie could challenge him to a snow ball fight and they could play–”

“Dustin’s 26 years old.”

“Yea...” you frown at Steve. “So?” you sound desperate.

Steve huffs a laugh as he rubs his thumbs over your hands. He grimaces a little before he says, “No offense, but… he doesn’t need us out there. Of course you’ve got to go with him, but every other person is going to be one too many.”

And Steve’s right.

The next day, Steve joins you outside as you’re about to leave. He hugs Eddie for a long time by the trunk of the car, and you know they’re softly talking to each other. You can only see Eddie’s back, and Steve’s face is hidden by all of Eddie’s curls, but suddenly you can hear Eddie laugh before he pokes Steve in the side.

You get hugged next.

Eddie doesn’t sleep on the flight. Just stares out the window and gets lost in thought. You know he’s not entirely sure of why you’re taking him back to Hawkins, but he’s also not asked about it again.

When your rental car stops in front of Wayne’s trailer, you turn the engine off and sit in silence for a moment as you both just… look at it. It’s four in the afternoon, but it’s getting dark outside already.

Forest Hills.

A surprisingly large lot of land that holds about twenty-four sporadically placed trailers; some of them neatly lined up, others facing whichever way. Wayne’s trailer was one of those ones, placed diagonally to the road, surrounded by dry grass for most of the year which was now hidden by a thick layer of snow.

Momentarily, everything about the image that you’re looking at looks like it’s 1987. Maybe 1988. You can easily envision a younger version of yourself running up to that same front door, it swinging open before you could even get up the steps, Eddie bursting through just to throw you over his shoulder and haul you inside.

“We’re here...” you break the silence, stating the obvious, and find Eddie’s hand to squeeze.

It’s a little silly, but it looks like he’s scared.

“Did you tell him we were coming?”

“Wayne?”

Eddie turns to look at you, slightly confused because, yea who the fuck else?

“Yea. I called Wayne.”

You watch how Eddie takes a breath. Watch that information settle within him.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

And Eddie does. Doesn’t want to do anything without you, ever.

But he takes a shaky breath and says, “I’ll come get you in a second.” before he opens the door and gets out of the car.

Footsteps crunch in the snow, and you watch Eddie, hands in pockets, rush up the steps to what used to be the trailer that he lived in with his uncle. The trailer that he found home in when he was about seven years old and Wayne had decided that his bedroom could actually be Eddie’s bedroom instead for a while.

A while turned into fifteen years in the blink of an eye.

You watch Eddie hug Wayne through the window. It’s another long embrace, but this one doesn’t part with boyish grins and jabbing fingers. Instead, you can see how Eddie goes limp in Wayne’s arms a little, and when he goes to pull back, Wayne just… holds on.

Just a little longer.

It feels a little wrong to be watching them like this, chin perched on the steering wheel, fingers hidden in your sleeves. It feels especially invasive when you see how when they eventually part, the first thing both men do is bring their sleeves to their faces to dry what has become wet.

Then, Eddie steps away. Slowly walks towards the room that used to be his bedroom, and he goes alone.

Good, you think.

That’s good.

Wayne didn’t understand at first, when you told him over the phone. That you were coming over for a strange, but important visit. But this was good.

It takes a while.

Your fingers start to lose their feeling a little as you wait in the car, but it’s fine. You are not the priority right now.

When Eddie eventually emerges from the trailer, you get out of the car, and wait for him to call for you. A, come on. Come inside. It’s fucking freezing out here.

Instead, you get silence. Eddie doesn’t stop walking to wave you over.

He makes his way all the way over to where you’re stood next to the car, and then, he hesitates for a moment.

Eddie can’t look you in the eye.

“Everything okay?”

You know it’s not.

“He um…” Eddie starts, voice trembling. “He’s not here.”

“What?”

Eddie moves closer to place a kiss to your temple, eyes looking away, over the top of the car, across the trailer park. “He’s not here. I didn’t find him.”

Eddie steps around you and gets into the passenger seat, and for a moment, you stand with both shoes in slush whilst you try to think of what to do next. When you look back at the trailer, you catch Wayne through he window. Gives you a smile and a wave.

For a moment you contemplate running over, up those same steps, to ask what happened inside. Maybe Wayne has answers to questions you keep asking yourself.

Before you can, Eddie roars the engine back to life.

You give Wayne a wave back from where you’re stood and round the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You can talk to Wayne later.

Back inside the car, you put your seatbelt on and look at Eddie for a moment. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the gearshift, and he’s biting his lip as he stares into space.

“If he’s not here…” you start pensively.

“It’s quite the drive.” Eddie answers, unmoving.

“We have the time.”

“I don’t think we’d make it back here before midnight.”

“Hey,”

Eddie turns his head to look at you.

“We have time.” You repeat yourself and place your hand on the back of his head where you softly scratch your fingers into his hair. “You good to drive?”

You don’t get an answer. Instead, Eddie puts the car in reverse and starts backing out. Just before he’s about to fully leave Forest Hills Trailer Park, he stops the car, even though there’s no traffic to wait for.

“I can drive if you want me to–”

“N-no, that’s not it. I can drive, but I…”

Eddie stares. Looks at his hands and just sits in silence, going through it. Then suddenly, he takes his seatbelt off, opens his door and quickly says, “I’ll be right back.” and he runs.

Left in a car with a running engine and a wide open door, you turn in your seat to watch Eddie’s breath leave him in white clouds as he runs back to the trailer, back up the steps, back inside. You’re too far away to see in the windows now.

It only takes a minute.

When he comes back, jogs down those steps in the snow, he looks a little lighter somehow. Like running back towards the car is a little easier.

Eddie gets back in the car, and he’s all loud inhales and rough exhales, hands rubbing together because it’s cold and he just ran through the snow, but then he looks at you as he puts on his seatbelt and he smiles.

There’s tears in his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“Had to tell him it’s okay. That I’m okay.”

Somehow, Eddie is beaming and solemn at the same time, but you’re happy that something has changed a little. That he seems to get it. You sink into your seat a bit more when Eddie pulls onto the road and starts heading south.

Eddie told you once, years ago, that he used to live in a motel before he came to Hawkins. How that’s all his parents could afford, and even then, they were always fighting with the front desk about money. Always late on payments.

It was just one big room, and even though it was just him, his mother and sometimes his dad, there were always people in their room. Strangers. Friends, his mother would tell him. Sometimes she’d even tell him, this is your Uncle Frank, and Eddie would be forced to shake the hand of a man he had never seen before and would never see again.

Eddie spent a lot of his early childhood confused.

He spent a lot of his childhood hiding.

Afraid.

Alone.

He wouldn’t ever trust anyone. People told him one thing and then they would laugh together and they would do something else.

Adults were evil, and yet the world was made so that adults were the ones that had to look after him. That made the decisions. That told him, go play outside, even if rain was coming down hard, and Eddie would have no other choice but to listen. To do as he was told.

He was only a little kid.

When Eddie was seven years old, he got kicked out of the room at eight in the morning and got told to not come back until they were ‘ready for him’.

Like he knew what that meant.

No one had told him how to tell time.

Eddie didn’t go to school.

But he knew that being sent outside meant that he had to go find his own entertainment for a while, and so he did.

Eddie was seven years old when he came back around lunch time with skinned knees and grass stains in his shorts, and there was commotion.

Lots of people.

People in uniforms.

A cop car.

A kind woman who asked him if he had lost his way. If she could help him get home. Eddie had just smiled and said, no thanks, and had tried to hide in the spot where he always hid. Adults were not to be trusted, Eddie knew. No matter how kind they looked.

Eddie was seven years old when he got pulled from his safe space, his little hiding spot, kicking and screaming, and got brought over to Wayne’s trailer. He’d never been back to that motel room again. Had never even gotten close.

The sun has fully set by the time you pull up outside of an old, run down motel that looks like it should’ve been torn down ages ago. Most windows are boarded up, paint on the walls is chipping and what used to be a light-up sign has been torn down.

It’s a dump.

Just trying to imagine someone growing up here has you choking up.

Little four-year-old Eddie running around these grounds? In dirty clothes too big for his body because nobody was feeding him right? Being exposed to things no child should ever be exposed to, simply because his bedroom was also the only room they had?

Before you can let it make you cry, you hear a faint chuckle beside you.

It’s small and weak, but it’s a chuckle none the less.

“I remember this place much bigger,” he says, like it’s funny. “There’s only like… seven rooms.” Eddie counts.

You’re momentarily unsure if coming here was a good idea. If facing this reality of his past is going to be doing him any good. If it won’t just break him down even more. But then Eddie turns to look at you and says, “Come, let me show you.”

Eddie visiting the place where he spent the first few years of his life turns into him giving you a surprisingly pleasant tour of the grounds. He recounts the other people that lived there, the rooms he wasn’t allowed into. How there used to be a soda machine here, and how sometimes the older kids would ask him to get them some cans for free, because his arms were small and skinny enough to just sneak them out the bottom.

It’s easy to skim the surface of this place like this.

To make it about showing you around instead of sinking down past the layers of self-protection that would have him walking around here with wobbly legs.

Yea.

This is easier. Better.

All of the doors are locked, but it doesn’t take much more than a good shove of a shoulder for the locks to give way. For the wood of the doorframes to splinter.

“Entering the Forest Hills way.” Eddie grins, and you suppress a smile. It’s a lie. Forest Hills is full of all honest, all hard-working people. But, it’s still a trailer park, and thus, the joke is funny.

Without much care, Eddie easily manages to open every door he comes across. It’s dark everywhere you go, none of the lights work, but the streetlights out front provide you with plenty of it, and your eyes quickly adjust.

Eddie shows you the laundry. Breaks into a little back office. A supply closet. Some other motel rooms - some that had semi-permanent guests staying there too, just like he used to be one. And some that would have overnight guests that didn’t know about the draft that would make the door slam so hard, you’d lose your fingers if they got caught in between.

It’s almost joyful, how Eddie talks about his memories. He hasn’t got many, he was so young, but every time he comes across something he remembers, he seems pleasantly surprised at his brain’s ability to bring it all back to him.

But then, when you eventually stop outside room number five, he pauses.

Stops.

Stares at the doorknob.

You can feel how his entire demeanor changes, and even though it’s painful to witness, you know that this is why you came here. This is the whole reason you drove all the way out here.

Eddie takes a good, deep breath but doesn’t move otherwise. Just keeps his eyes locked on a rusty old doorknob to a locked door of a room that probably looks exactly like all the other ones Eddie had already shown you.

“Is this where you lived?” you ask, doing your best to make your voice sound as neutral as possible. You don’t want to scare him off. Don’t want to trigger something.

Eddie nods, a barely-there up and down movement of his head, and then he goes for the doorhandle, rattles it weakly.

Keeps staring at it.

“Door’s locked.” He croaks, like that had been a problem for any of the other doors.

But it does make sense.

You understand that the person who opened up all those other doors was Eddie in his thirties, showing you around.

The person staring at the doorknob now, was Eddie as a child.

Afraid to go inside, unsure of what he was going to find there.

Not strong enough.

Maybe only just tall enough to even reach.

But, you were strong.

You had witnessed how a little force had gone a long way with these locks, and after giving Eddie a second to maybe ask for help, because God, you really wanted him to realize he could just ask for help, he doesn’t ask for shit, and you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Before Eddie even registers you taking a few steps back to get a running start, the wood of the door has already split from the blow of your shoulder.

“Oh my G–” Eddie jumps, both arms reaching out to grab at you and to pull you close. He makes sure he holds you where you ran into the door, large palm cupping over the curve of your shoulder, and he rubs the skin there. Which helps, because, you’re not really hiding the fact that Jesus fuck that fucking hurt very well.  

Despite the sting, there’s a moment where you both see the humor in what just happened, and looking at each other, you both let huffs of laughter escape you.

“Are you crazy? What you do that for, huh?” Eddie pretend scolds.

You shrug, “Forest Hills way.”  

The comedic relief is so welcome, but it’s short-lived. You see from up close how Eddie’s expression drops. He goes from looking at his insane girlfriend with all the love he’s got for her spilling from his eyes, to looking over your head into the dark room where he used to live, and it all slips away.

You wait by the door.

Want Eddie to do this alone because you think it’ll be better that way.

You also truly don’t know what to do, so it feels a little safer to just… wait outside. You wouldn’t know how to help anyway.

Just like when you were outside of Wayne’s trailer, it feels a little invasive to look at Eddie as he silently takes slow steps inside and looks around. At the same time, you can’t really look away. If he’s going to break down and fall to his knees, you want to be there within a second to pick him back up.

Eddie trails slow fingers along a dresser.

Takes careful steps towards a nightstand of which he opens and then closes the drawer.

“Huh…” he comments. Looks around the full room again, sees it in different light as he stands in another corner, the lights from outside showing him different parts of the room.

He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he steps back out, and he looks… confused.

Surprised, maybe. A little dumbfounded.

He gives the room another glance, and then turns to find you watching him in silence.

“This is really weird,” Eddie comments, both eyebrows raised.

“Yea? How so?”

“I don’t know… it’s different. It’s not like I remember. I think… I don’t know, I think my mind made this room the most terrible place ever in the world, but it’s just… it’s just a room. There’s nothing…” Eddie twirls on the spot, “Yea, it’s just a room. Nothing’s… nothing is scary.”

You swallow audibly, and hesitate before you speak.

“It’s not scary.” Eddie concludes again before you can say anything, and he raises both shoulders at you in a long shrug, like he’s trying to convince you that it’s all right.

You’re not the one who needs convincing though.

“Is, um…” you start, and you clear your throat, entirely unsure of how Eddie is going to react to your question.

After visiting Wayne, you think he gets it now.

He gets why you took him back to Indiana.

Eddie has let his eyes fall on a weird piece of wall art he doesn’t remember, something that maybe they added to the room after his parents had been kicked out, and he’d been taken away to go live somewhere safer.

“Is he here?”

“Huh?”

“Is he in here, somewhere?”

It takes a moment of Eddie looking at you before he fully registers what you’re talking about.

His gaze drifts towards the closet next to the bathroom door.

It’s shut. Both bifold doors closed.

Eddie stalls for a moment, and then he raises an arm to open one of the doors before he drops it by his side again.

The closet’s empty.

It seemingly comes from nowhere, the way your lips suddenly quiver. How your eyes well up with tears so quickly. You have to cover your mouth with your hand to remain silent; this isn’t about you.

Eddie is slowly taking it all in, looks around the inside of the closet. The stains in the carpet. The peeling wallpaper. The mismatched hangers, a couple plastic ones amongst a couple more wire ones. And then he looks up and finds the the little yellowed piece of string that hangs down from way up high.

He reaches up and pulls it.

An audible click is heard.

Nothing changes though.

No light springs on.

Eddie pulls it again. Softly smiles. Pulls it a couple more times.

Click, click.

Click, click.

Nothing happens.

You’re about to burst with a violent sob when you see how Eddie, entirely in his own thoughts, inside of his own memories, slowly steps into the closet and closes the door behind him.

You hear the clicking of the light a couple more times, and need to step away.  

It’s too much.

The visuals of a tiny little malnourished Eddie hiding in a closet unable to reach the string of the light in there is going to make you hyperventilate if you’re not careful, so you have to take a walk.

It’s fucking freezing but hot tears trail down your cheeks as you hurry back to your rental car.

It doesn’t take much longer for Eddie to step outside, leaving the place where he spent the first few years of his life. His long legs carry him over to you quickly.

You can tell that he’s holding back sobs until he’s close enough to crash himself into you.

Arms wrap so tightly, they almost hurt. Bodies wrack with silent sobs until deep breaths calm the both of you down.

It takes a good while.

Eddie is first to pull back, and whilst cupping your face, both his thumbs wiping underneath your eyes in a bid to rid you of your tears, he manages to squeak, “Found him.”

“Yea?” you ask wetly. Hopeful.

This is why you came out here.

To find the small version of Eddie who, even as a toddler, knew that calling out for help was a waste of time because the calls would go unanswered.

To take him home.

“Turned on the–” Eddie throat closes up before he can even say it.

“Turned on the light for him?” you finish for him, and he just nods as he presses his lips together to keep them from wobbling.

Eddie goes in for another hug, hides his face in the side of your neck and grounds himself there.

You can feel how he’s actively trying to steady his own breathing.

It works, eventually.

“Did you…” you start, still holding him, but falter for a moment.

“Did I what?” Eddie asks, sniffing loudly, pulling back after you nudge your nose into his hair.

“Did you take him with you?”

It’s such a silly question. Eddie can’t help the smile that carefully plays at the corner of his mouth, and his eyebrows scrunch up as he looks down at you. He can dissect the question that pops up in the back of his brain for the fourth time today another time. How can he even begin to figure out why he deserves someone like you in his life?

“I did.” He confirms, and you let the breath you were holding escape you in a shudder.

He doesn’t think he deserves you.

“Good.” you smile, and maybe things are starting to look up, a little. Maybe the universe is slowly starting to make amends with Eddie. Is starting to apologize for all the shit it put little Eddie through in this godforsaken place no one should spend more than a single night at.

“Let’s take him home then.”

Eddie cries.

Thought he was done, but he’s not.

He lets you press kisses to the skin just underneath his eyes as he closes them.

He lets you open the car door and help him into the passenger’s seat.

Lets you drive all the way back to Wayne’s whilst he cries, because this is the second time little Eddie makes this trip, from the motel to Forest Hills. But this time he’s not scared.

He knows he’s going to go to a better place.

A safer place.

To a person who will try his very best hand at proper damage control. Who’s got a nice trailer, and a room that will get turned into his own bedroom three days into his stay.

To a person who will join Eddie in the closet for those first few nights. Who will just bring him food in there, have their dinner hidden away together, and who won’t force him out.

Who will play silly games with him in there, until the trips to the bathroom feel safe enough to do on his own.

There’s never other people in the trailer.

Just them.

Safe.

Eddie cries as he remembers more. Thought he had forgotten almost everything, but he remembers so much. He can’t talk about anything yet. Not now. His voice won’t let him. But that’s okay. You’ve got the radio on and need to focus on the road, and you’re taking him back to Wayne, and all he really wants to do is sleep.

And you just drive, and hold Eddie’s hand as he clings to you, and this is good.

It’s good.

Little Eddie deserves the fucking world.

You think so.

And you know of a handful of people who would wholeheartedly agree.

Slowly, you think Eddie might start to understand where you’re coming from.

He was never okay and happy and fine.

Still isn’t okay and happy and fine.

But the light has been switched on.

There’s light now.

He might one day be okay and happy and fine, and that’s something that before today was the most difficult thing to grasp.

“We’re taking you home, kiddo. I got you.” Eddie whispers, soft enough so only he can hear it over the engine and the music coming from the radio.

“Let’s go home.”

---

The Taglisted

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Add yourself

[nowimjustastranger]

Feral ford? Just any feral ford stuff?

Or Ford finding out that Stanley no longer has a kidney, his hearing is bad and he no longer has natural teeth so he uses his sci-fi magic mojo

to make Stanley’s body regrow new ones. He’s doing this because he’s worried about Stanleys health (that Stanley will die first because of his health problems which Ford cannot accept) and because he feels guilty for not being able to protect Stanley from getting those in the first place.

And it’s not noticeable at first. Stanley is like think “huh, I feel off, oh well Imma just gonna ignore it” but he knows Ford is hiding something because Ford is all like

“Take it easy Stanley, there’s no anomalies or Cryptids around for miles. We are just going to have a relaxing month, while you recover”

And Stanley of course raises an eyebrow

Ford refuses to budge though. Yeah but Stanley eventually finds out because his natural teeth start growing in, he’s able to breath a lot easier and his hearing has never been better.

It’s my bread and butter!

If you have any slots left of course.

If not feel free to ignore this 🥸🫵 (pls)

Lee should’ve known that Ford was up to something the moment he found the man in his sub-basement lab at some god-awful hour, clearly in a manic state due to lack of sleep. He had been standing at one of his workstations, vials of unknown colorful fluids scattered across the cluttered surface as he scrutinized the tube of shimmering iridescent liquid that he held in his hand, the other deftly scribbling notes into his journal without even having to look down.

Thankfully, it had been easy to coax Ford to come up for breakfast, the man obediently setting the vial aside in favor of trailing after Lee after he laced their fingers together and started to head for the elevator. Ford leaned against Lee heavily on the ride up, eyelids drooping and movements sluggish as he mechanically shoveled his omelet into his mouth moments later. And Lee would find the situation more amusing if Ford wasn’t two seconds from falling out of his chair.

Lee shared a worried look with Fiddleford, who shrugged helplessly to indicate that he had no idea what Ford had been up to in that lab of his either. Lee frowned down at his plate at the disquieting realization that Ford was shutting himself away, poking at his own loaded omelet until Ford sloppily nudged him, his worn face expressing nothing but concern as he pointedly glanced between Lee and the food in a wordless question.

Lee had choked down the damn omelet.

Ford slept for almost fourteen hours straight once he laid down, and Lee would know because he was in their shared room –there were only two bedrooms in the shack and one of them was Fiddleford’s– for all thirteen hours and thirty-nine minutes that Ford spent asleep. Ford was a restless sleeper, tossing and turning as nightmares and memories plagued him.

But Ford had assured Lee that having him nearby made it better, which is why Lee never strayed far from Ford when he was getting some much-needed shut eye. Honestly, Lee had learned to take at least one nap while Ford was conked out, which screwed up his sleeping schedule but it was undeniably worth it since he could actually spend time with Ford once he woke up.

Anyway, when Ford had stirred later that night he looked recharged and ready for whatever the universe had to throw at him. Lee was sitting up and rubbing his eyes with a huge yawn as Ford puttered around the room, exchanging his colorful pajamas for his usual all-black attire. Lee had just gotten to pulling his covers back by the time Ford was dressed, striding over to where Lee sat to lean down for a nuzzle.

Ford suggested that they watch a movie, offering to fix some hot chocolate and snacks for Lee when he agreed that a lazy night spent cuddled together on the couch sounded amazing. Ford had seemed riddled with a mix of excitement and nerves as they relocated to the living room, but Lee hadn’t pressed the man about why he was acting so shifty because he honestly wasn’t sure of what to make of Ford’s behavior.

He really should’ve known better.

Lee had drained the mug of hot chocolate without even thinking about the unpleasant aftertaste, but he had written it off as Ford’s ability to make even the simplest of recipes taste questionable at best and downright toxic at worst. And all things considered, the hot chocolate ranked super low on the gross scale, it was just a little bitter.

It wasn’t until daybreak that Lee started to feel… not so great. He was smoking a cigar on the front porch when his gums began to ache, Lee forced to take out his partial dentures to relieve the pressure. It was a fleeting respite from the throbbing pain, which only seemed to worsen. Then, something came loose, Lee’s stomach dropping as he raised a hand to spit a tooth into his waiting palm.

He doesn't remember yelling for Ford, but he must have because the man was at his side in an instant, speaking in rapid-fire that Lee couldn’t seem to hear over the static buzzing in his ears. It wasn’t until Ford took Lee’s face in his hands that everything came rushing back, Ford’s calm and steady voice explaining something about the tooth in his hand having a cavity and that’s why it was replaced.

Lee blinked, unable to process the implications of Ford’s words since the ache in his tender gums increased sharply, his muddled thoughts grinding to a halt. He cupped a hand over his mouth as more bloodied teeth fell out, his mind reduced to a whirlwind of panic and horror as he helplessly waited for whatever was happening to end.

He could feel Ford’s warmth pressed flush against his side, an arm stretched across the front of his body to act as a support as well as function as a makeshift hug. Meanwhile, Ford’s other hand gently carded through Lee’s hair, brushing the wayward strands out of his face. Lee’s uncomprehending mind latched onto the sensation, using it to anchor him to the present.

Lee actually blacked out when pain tore through his side, boots uselessly scrabbling against the porch as his body convulsed. Resurfacing into consciousness to the sound of Ford berating himself about not testing the serum more thoroughly, which made a lot of things rapidly click into place. Incredulous anger swelled and Lee blindly grabbed a fistful of Ford’s stupid t-shirt before throwing a sloppy punch that Ford made no effort to dodge.

“What… the fuck… Ford!” Lee panted, his whole body feeling weirdly warm and tingly. Blood dribbled from Ford’s nose, but he didn’t even seem to care. Ford’s hands jerked up to cradle Lee’s face, his expression shattered, and the anger subsided all at once. Lee was left to flounder in the face of Ford’s guilt and terror, his brother practically climbing on top of him as his hands roamed over Lee’s body.

“Hey, what– Am I dyin’ or somethin��?” Lee haltingly asked, catching one of Ford’s wrists when he tried to shove it under Lee’s rucked up shirt, his exposed midriff flexing as the chilly morning air caressed his feverish skin. Ford made one of those animal noises of his, something between a whine and a snarl. Which, as far as Lee could tell, translated to Ford being both irritated and distressed by his perfectly reasonable question.

“No.” Ford answered tersely, his voice closer to a growl than an actual word. Regardless, Lee was able to discern that Ford wasn’t panicking because he had slipped him something that could kill him. It had fucking hurt –hands down the worst pain he had experienced outside of that one time that he got his kidney taken– but he had survived whatever the hell that was.

Which brought his thoughts back to the so-called ‘serum’ that Ford had mentioned earlier.

“What the fuck did you put in my hot chocolate?” Lee demanded, holding Ford’s wild gaze until the man’s previously tense posture shifted into more of a defensive hunch. Now Ford looked more like a kicked puppy than an injured animal about to lash out, which was just unfair because how the hell was Lee supposed to stay mad at him when he was cowering?

“It… it was supposed to help.” Ford said with effort, speaking through grit teeth as that damn spark of self-loathing flared to life in his dark eyes. Lee sighed and reached up to take Ford’s earlobe in two fingers and gently tug, redirecting his attention. When they made eye contact, Lee’s arms wound around Ford’s neck to drag him down into a hug that knocked the wind out of both of them as Ford’s entire body weight landed on top of him.

“Help how?” Lee coughed once he had regained the ability to breathe, lungs rattling with his first proper inhale. Lee immediately tilted his head in a wordless invitation that Ford eagerly took him up on, scraping his three-day stubble against Lee’s bared throat.

“So many wounds… so much pain…” Ford mumbled distractedly, nuzzling his way up to Lee’s jaw, his brows furrowing at the drying blood that stained Lee’s mouth. Ford slowly sat back on his haunches, Lee following him up, the two of them sitting on the bloodied porch. There were teeth and several questionable fluids scattered about, the sight making Lee’s stomach roll.

“You… fixed me?” Lee asked, his brows drawing together. He felt the nearly overwhelming need to strip down and examine himself in front of the full length mirror in their room wash over him, but he settled for a perfunctory pat down to try and figure out what exactly the serum had repaired. He was floored to discover that his scars were gone, the constant tightness notably absent. His eyesight was better too, the eye contacts that he’d taken to wearing since highschool missing.

“The serum regenerated what was damaged or missing.” Ford confirmed with a stilted nod, timidly scooting closer. Lee instinctively accommodated Ford’s need for closeness by spreading his legs wider, which was more or less unspoken permission to crowd into Lee’s personal space. Ford was only too happy to plaster himself to Lee’s front, the man’s arms closing around his waist as he sat down properly.

“A heads-up woulda been nice, Ace.” Lee huffed, propping his chin on Ford’s shoulder as he melted into the embrace. Ford was having a similar reaction to their proximity, relaxing more and more with every deep breath. Ford mumbled something along the lines of never giving Lee anything without his knowledge or consent again, and Lee didn’t doubt that he’d be fully briefed on the effects and potential drawbacks as well. Ford was nothing if not thorough, after all.

“I’m not cleanin’ this shit up either.” Lee warned, wrinkling his nose as his eyes wandered to the mess on the porch. It looked like a fucking crime scene; or maybe the aftermath of a torture session. Either way, Lee wasn’t gonna spend the day trying to get his blood out of the wood.

“I’ll handle it.” Ford assured, giving Lee’s jaw one last tender nuzzle before he pulled away, smoothly rising to his feet before helping Lee up. Lee grimaced at the state he was in, drying blood covering nearly the entirety of his front and hands. A shower and a change of clothes was definitely on his to-do list, along with burning what he was currently wearing because there was no way the blood was coming out.

“We’re talkin’ about this after I get washed up.” Lee stated, wiping his hands off on a relatively clean patch of his jeans before looking at Ford expectantly, the man obediently nodding.

“It won’t happen again.” Ford promised, opening the front door for Lee so he wouldn’t smear blood everywhere, his hand lingering on Lee’s back as he followed. Lee turned on the staircase, his eyes searching Ford’s expression for a few moments before he smiled.

“I know.”

[unlosts]

is it casual now?

prompt: “i’ve never noticed how nice your voice sounds up close.”

1.5k words

_

There are many things you shouldn’t do in the BAU, you shouldn’t talk to Spencer about astrology unless you want a 46 (yes counted) minute lecture on the impossibility of the stars to predict your personality (funnily enough what a Virgo going through his Saturn return would do, but you thought it best to keep that one to yourself). 

You shouldn’t ignore JJ when she’s showing you cute Herny pictures even though she has in fact shown you those exact same ones about 4 times before. 

You shouldn’t invite Hotch to go for drink after a case, but that’s mostly because thats’s been - statistically speaking - a waste of everyone's time.

And above all you should not go drink for drink with Emily Prentiss, no matter how much she dares you to. 

But seeing as you were able to read Spencer his horoscope, JJ kept it to only two pictures today and Hotch did, in fact, agree to go out with all of you. You decided that it was a good enough night to tempt fate. 

Like Icarus you flew too close to the sun only to crash and burn. 

Only you crashed and burned into the back of your boss's car.

The five Cuba Libres you drank sat heavy on you, but at that moment you thought that the thing really making you dizzy was Hotch sitting next to you. His profile illuminated by the passing lights, occasionally tinted red by the streetlights. You wanted to reach out and touch his face, see if the color bleed into your hands. 

Old movie star handsome turned technicolor. 

You rested your head back in the passenger seat, closing your eyes for one moment only to feel his hand on your leg softly shaking you awake. 

“C’mon, don’t fall asleep yet, we’re almost there” Despite his words he spoke softly, and you couldn’t help but think that he never sounds like this at work. 

“I’ve never noticed how nice your voice sounds up close.” It seemed your words took him by surprise as much as they did you because he kept his hand right there on your thigh as he drove.  

But a lot of things could be blamed on your blood-alcohol level so there was not much to lose now. 

“Yeah you usually sound very strict but that’s the voice you use when you talk to Jack, it’s nice, a little less deep but … soft yknow?” 

“I..” He seemed caught between looking at the road and wanting to keep looking at you “I never thought about that” 

“That’s okay” you said right before a yawn cut you off “I notice you plenty for the both of us” 

“You do?” He asks tentatively as he pulls into your apartment complex. 

“Oh yeah” You reply smiling back at him, daring him to ask for more. 

“Like what?” His tone is hushed, a little shy in a way you only dreamed of hearing. 

“hmmm” you pretend to think, if only to extend the moment, and also quite distracted by his hands on the steering wheel as he parked, the loss of his hand on your leg a minor price to pay. 

“You always take your coffee black but that’s only because it’s easier when in reality you like it better with a splash of milk and two sugars “

As you spoke you both leaned closer and closer to each other.   

“You pretend you don’t have time to hear Pen describe in detail each episode of the Bachelor, but you take an abnormally long time heating up your lunch every time she’s doing it” 

“Oh” you whisper “and you wanna kiss me real bad right now”

“I do?” he asked just as hushed, as if afraid that if he speaks any louder you’ll realize what you’re saying and stop.

“Oh yeah, actually ever since my like fifth case when I told that detective to fuck off and you preteneded to be mad at me for it” 

“Well, It seems profiling is your calling after all” 

“You do only hire the best of the best” Right as you’re done speaking he leans over and kisses you. 

The bubbles from the rum and coke just as fizzy on your tongue, and making you feel just as drunk. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer, crowding yourself against the passengers side door. His hands roaming your back and messing up your hair. 

The feeling of him above you all encompassing, the cedar and vetiver smell of his cologne and the warm strong muscles of his shoulders under your hands moving as one of his hands reached up to the back of your neck making you dizzy. 

You wanted to live right in this moment as long as you could. 

“Wait” Hotch said as he pulled away for a moment, panting and out of breath, lips red and tie askew making you want to pull him back “I didn’t want to do it like this” while he spoke you pressed one kiss against the side of his neck which seemed to render him speechless for a moment, his eyes closed before he kept going.  

“I wanted to ask you out and kiss you at the end of the night, in your doorstep, not“ he said pointedly, bringing back his unit chief voice ”the car.” 

“Well” you sighed “if you insist on cutting the night short” 

“I do, but just this once” He replied with a small crooked smile. 

“Fine, but quit smiling like that or we’ll be here a while” 

“Duly noted” 

He still insisted on walking you to your door, all the way up to the third floor. His coat over your shoulders at his insistence to keep the chill away gave you the chance to press the collar. 

At your door you took off his jacket to give back but when you extended it to him he just kept his hands in his pockets, instead of taking it. 

“Keep it and give it back to me tomorrow”

“Tomorrow?” 

“Yes, tomorrow at dinner, after you’ve had the chance to sleep off the hangover I’m going to pick you up and take you to dinner” 

“Couldn’t resist waiting another day huh?” 

Hotch just laughed a little and looked back at you. He lingered on your doorstep looking at you and you decided to cut it short before he had to take you out for breakfast instead. 

“See you tomorrow Hotchner” 

[disneyprincemuke]

just a responsible pet owner * fem!driver

she comes home after a night of drinking, suddenly concerned about what their pets are eating

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: hi ive had this fic idea in my head FOR WEEKS and i think it's so funny so here we are

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

“be careful!” logan scolds as she pushes the door open, stumbling into the door as she opens it.

she kicks her heels off as she waves logan off who’s trailing behind her, arms held out protectively in case she were to fall into one of their shelves.

“i’m fine,” she mutters, slowly walking and swaying further into their apartment. she has her hands held out on both walls of the entryway to steady herself, desperately ignoring the way the room spins and how she’s stepping on her foot every time she walks.

“i hardly believe that. you drank too much, rocky,” logan sighs, scratching his head.

this could have been easier if she’d just agreed to let him carry her back from his car to their apartment. she wouldn’t have had to struggle stumbling everywhere in her heels, knees giving in every couple of steps.

she shakes her head. “i’m fine– oh! my kids! hello, kids!”

she drops to her knees next to the black cat by his feeding bowl, meowing at her as he puts his two front paws on her thigh. “hi, kid. did you miss me?” she grabs both sides of the cat's face, hunching over and pressing kisses to the top of the cat’s head. “i missed you. what are you doing? are you eating?”

“i think he was eating,” logan mutters. he bends over and puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “we should really get you to bed — take off your makeup and drink lots of water. how does that sound?”

she turns around, eyebrows furrowed at him with a frown. “that sounds stupid.”

he lifts his eyebrows. “oh?”

“yeah,” she hums, wrapping her arms around kidnapper, who willingly gets into her lap. “i want to cuddle with my baby.” she rests her cheek on the top of the black cat’s head, then opens her eyes. “is your food even nice?”

shortly, the corgi starts trudging up to her happily, prompting the young girl to squeak and open her arms up to the pup. stubby reciprocates and cuddles into her lap, tail wagging in happiness at her affection.

“dude,” logan repeats himself in a slightly firmer tone. “you need to drink some water and get to bed. at this rate, you’ll fall asleep on the floor.”

“wait,” she mutters, dropping the animals in her hands. she tilts her entire body and rests her head on the wall. “am i even feeding you well? is your food as yummy as you make it out to be?”

logan lets out a soft cry, his arm darting out immediately to grab her wrist before she could grab a kibble from the cat bowl. “that’s cat food.”

“i know,” she says in a whisper, her other hand coming around to tear his grip off her. “i just want to taste their food and make sure they’re eating well.”

if you had told him 5 hours ago that this would be the outcome of their night out, he wouldn’t have believed you. she’d always prided herself in having control over her body when she was drunk, but it seems that she’s just in another dimension tonight. he assumes it’s the 4 cups of margaritas that she downed in 10 minutes before he dragged them out of the club.

“that’s not for you!”

“stop telling me what not to eat! you’re not noah!” she squeaks, turning around to shove him away. “it’s just cat and dog food — i won’t get sick!”

logan throws his head back. “i can’t risk that! noah will kill me if anything happens to you before the race this weekend!”

she lets out a soft scream when he grabs both of her arms, pulling her away from the pet bowls, throwing her head back and resting it on his shoulder. “let me be the pet food police! if they’re not nice, i have to change the brand we’re getting!”

“mate, if they didn’t think it was nice, they wouldn’t be eating it!” logan fights back, pulling her arms back from darting forward to get a taste of their food. “stop trying to try it!”

“fine!” she drops her arms to her side as logan finally lets go of her. she blinks blankly and pouts her bottom lip out. “can i have a glass of water please?”

he stares at her, slightly hesitant. “you’re not going to do anything stupid?”

she shakes her head and drops it slightly, her hair falling down the sides of her face. “i’m thirsty. please?”

“okay,” logan nods, slowly scrambling to get off the floor. “stay here, okay? don’t go anywhere; i’ll help you get to bed after you drink some water.”

but he should have known better than to leave her unattended at that state. he had left for 20 seconds maximum to hurriedly get her a cup of water. when he came back, she’s lying on her stomach, chin in her hand with her elbow propped up against the ground, chewing away on something.

“hey, what the fuck are you eating?” logan screams, putting the cup down on their dining table and rushing over to where she is on the ground. “mate, you’re worse than stubby when he was a puppy! what are you eating?”

she doesn’t have the same urgency. her feet are in the air and she turns to him with doe eyes. “it’s kinda bland.” she looks at kidnapper, lying down innocently next to her. “how do you eat that, mate? it’s got no taste at all.”

she doesn’t spare logan another glance, just turns away and turns to stubby’s bowl. “what about you, tubs? what does your food taste like?”

“stop eating their food! if you’re that hungry, i’ll make you a sandwich!” logan scolds, climbing on her back to pull her away from the pets’ corner. “that’s not your food. stop eating it!”

“i need to see if their food is good food!” she continues to defend herself, pushing her arm forward in hopes that logan would be the first to give up the fight. “please! i’m a concerned pet owner!” she turns her head. “you don’t care for my kids!”

logan rolls his eyes. “yes, i do! i walk stubby every morning we’re home!”

“if you cared for them more, you’d try their food so that we know what we’re feeding them!”

“that’s not the same thing!”

“yes, it is! leave me alone!”

“rocky! pet food is not human food!”

“i just wanna try it!”

“give it up! you’ve tried kidnapper’s food and that’s enough,” logan sighs, dropping himself on the floor next to her. his hands, however, are still gripping hers and tiredly pulling her away from the bowls. “please stop trying to eat their food. it’s not for you.”

“why not?” she whines, now dropping her head to rest on her arm. “i’m being a responsible pet owner, mate.”

“no, you’re just being stupid.”

“aw, take that back!”

“but you are!”

“you’re always so mean to me!” she squeaks, lifting her head to look at him. “i’m going to bed!”

logan chuckles, “if you can get up and make it to bed by yourself, i’ll let you eat stubby’s kibble.”

she sighs loudly and drops her head again, followed by an even louder whine. “fine. you got me.”

they let the silence overcome them for a moment, his hands still gripping hers tightly. he’s let his guard down too easily once tonight and there is absolutely no way that she will get the best of him again.

“can you take me to my bed now?” she starts softly. “and i’d like that glass of water now.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @clemswrld @a-disturbing-self-reflection @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[drunkenkissesatdusk]

Can u maybe do like a Damian wayne x reader where they're friends and all but sometimes they (reader) tends to zone out a lot and think abt a lot of deep ish things that cause her to make weird faces without even realizing? Like she's much more quieter than usual and when he turns to look at her, he sees that she's visibly very upset but for seemingly no reason.

Oh, and if u want angst, maybe the specific thing she's thinking abt has something to do with him so she's really annoyed and snappy when he asks her what's wrong? Like she's be thinking abt how rude guys in their school are and then it kinda reminds her of Damian. Idk🙈🙉

(*ˊᗜˋ*)ᵗᑋᵃᐢᵏ ᵞᵒᵘ

am i good at angst? no… will i try? absolutely.

NOT YOUR FAULT.

pairings — damian wayne - al ghul x reader (platonic)

warnings — i tried to write angst but gave up, that’s all (and the ending sucks that’s not my fault (it is))

summary — pretty much what the request is gangsters

notes — i don’t know how to write angst 😞

━━━━━━━ YOU SHOULD’VE SEEN THE SIGNS before it was too late. you were sleeping more, food was suddenly too plain, you were easy to irritate, and you felt like you couldn’t do anything.

but, of course, you hadn’t understood when they began, you just blamed it on stress, since you had tons of tests coming up that you were relentlessly studying.

at some point, your grades had started slipping, and your teachers didn’t miss that. you were forgetting to turn in assignments, and whenever you suddenly couldn’t sleep the night before, you started falling asleep in class.

multiple teachers had brought it up after class with you, and you were able to come up with excuse after excuse.

eventually, Damian noticed. Damian, one of the only kids who didn’t ignore you this year, your first year of high school. but, obviously, that wasn’t always the case. Damian had originally been mean, tormenting you alongside all his other friends.

Damian only noticed because of your lack of emotions throughout the time you’d spend with him. on top of that, said time was clearly dwindling.

“hey, hey.” Damian called after you, catching up soon after and walking with you outside, far enough away from other kids so that the two of you could talk without anyone being nosy.

“what’s going on? you’ve been acting weird the past few days.” Damian’s face was clearly concerned, which irritated you further.

sure, you’d been quieter recently, and you almost always had a sour look on your face, but why would he bring it up?

“nothing, im fine.” you defensively crossed your arms over your chest — also doing so for a little bit of extra comfort as Damian seemed to be interrogating you.

“bullshit. talk to me, i’m your friend.” Damian stared at you, face full of worry.

“nothing.” you reiterated, “i said i’m fine, Damian. i’m fine.” you put emphasis on your words.

“you’re not a good liar.” he stated.

“like you even care.” you scoffed, turning on your heel and walking away. you found semblance in the school library, in the back of the room where you doubted anyone would go looking for you in.

with the silence of the room suddenly hitting you, your guard was up and your eyes were relentlessly looking around.

you probably looked angry. if anyone were to look at you, they’d probably think you were pissed off. were you? yeah, probably. why were you mad? you had no clue.

inhaling carefully, you felt your body begin to unwind, your heart rate slowly slowed.

guilt and regret flooded your system. you could then remember the way you’d treated Damian.

he was truthfully your only friend, he hadn’t deserved that.

i’m sorry, you sent the message. i didn’t mean to be so rude, you sent afterwards. he read the messages almost instantly.

it’s fine, not ur fault, he sent back.

sleepover at mine? you asked him, gathering yourself again before making your way to your next class. he agreed, and the day went on swimmingly.

the sleepover was practically the same, nothing bad happened, and it was easier to talk about it with him.

masterlist — reminder that asks / requests are open!!

[rungssparemodelpieces]

No rest on the Lost Light

Rodimus

* Tossing and turning, you laid awake in bed, your body tense and mind feeling like it was going a million miles an hour. It wasn’t uncommon for something to go wrong on your travels with the Lost Light but this last time was different, having a near death experience that left you strained and anxious. You needed to keep your mind off your troubles, to distract yourself from your own mortality… you needed Rodimus. He always managed to take your mind off of the bad things with his silly antics or brash attitude so he would be perfect to cheer you up or at least put you at ease as you grabbed your pillow and blanket and headed out to his habsuite.

* Rodimus, on the other hand, also needed a break from his current state of mind, broken remnants of his latest fit scattered around his berth, the bot sitting against the wall as he was finally calmed down but still, the feelings of inadequacy and self worth still lingered heavy on his frame. Despite all he did during the war, despite co-captaining this expedition, despite all of this, he was a screwup and he knew it. He knew the crew thought less of him as a hero and more as a liability but no one could think less of him than himself, sulking in the corner before hearing a knock at the door.

* You heard Roddy’s voice asking you to go away but you called out to him, telling him that you couldn’t sleep and he was the only one who could help you sleep easier. Rodimus did perk up slightly to his usual self as he asked if a good fragging was all you needed to sleep easier, earning a groan from you as you asked him again to open the door and just hang out with you until you fell asleep. Rodimus told you to give him a moment, hearing some shuffling around before he opened the door, letting you inside. You made a quick scan of the room, noting the new marks against the wall but ignoring to comment as it seemed he had a lot on the mind as well.

* Roddy and you end up using each other to distract yourselves from the harshness of reality with a few ideas such as heading to Swerve’s for a quick drink that maybe turns into a drinking game or two, taking a ride around the Lost Light before Magnus stops and reminds you both of the recharge curfew, pulling a prank or two on some fellow crew mates, or end up just hanging out in his room, telling stories, cracking jokes, and gossip about the goings on around the ship.

* Rodimus is a very warm bot who makes it hard to stay awake, especially if you’re talking about the new drama between Preceptor and Brainstorm, resting your body against his chassis as he listened in, not particularly caring for the story but just watching you as he liked the way you started to doze off, eyes starting to close as you continued to ramble which was also starting to lose details or slur your words. If you do end up falling asleep on him, he goes by cat rules and knows that he can’t move until you wake up with the view he has, why would he?

* Roddy is more than willing to let you sleep for longer than needed to get him out of the morning meeting with Magnus and Megatron. If you do end up sleeping on him, he does play with your hair or rubs your back with his fingertips, finding it cute the way your hairs moves around or stays in one place. He might even dare to sneak a kiss or mumbled a “I love you” if he knew you were out cold. If requested, he can use his holoform for cuddling, still just as warm and definitely softer than his normal body. You would often tease his holoform, rustling his hair and tracing the tattoo on his arm, commenting how cheesy it was, but liked it all the same.

NSFW

* If you do take him up on the fragging offer, Rodimus is more than ready to blow some steam with a good interface with you, either with mass displacing or using his holoform as otherwise it would be a tight fit, to put it gently. Depending on his mood, Roddy could either tease you relentlessly in order to keep you awake longer and make you beg for release in order to fall asleep satisfied or he favorites the quickie, seeing if indeed you could sleep easier with a good interface session with him which ends up with a very smug Roddy at the morning meeting.

[jamil-s-wifey]

Hello :3 Can I get a long scenario with my dearest Jamil?

I really love him so much >///< so here is my scenario, I hope you can accept

Jamil got sick and has a fever. MC stayed beside him and nursed him for 3 days without blinking and finally he recovered. He started to remember her care during his illness after his fever dropped. And when he woke up, MC hugged him tightly. A bit long, huh? 😅 I would be happy with little NSFW, not gonna lie.

Well hello there, fellow Jamil enthusiast~ It has certainly been a hot minute, hasn't it? It is my utmost pleasure to present you with the *long-awaited* scenario at hand! A bit of NSFW, some heart-warming fluff and Jamil finally getting a GODDAMN break, coming right up! It's not full on NSFW, just a lil bit, as requested, I don't know why it turned out like that- still, I hope this is good! (Tbh, it fits the scenario)

P.S. This hit close to home, I used to be a very sickly child and I still catch all sorta sicknesses a lot easier than normal people. So, what he will experience here is all based on very PERSONAL and very SALTY experience. 🙃

"What am I gonna do with you? You can't keep pushing yourself so much!" You murmured, pressing a cold cloth to Jamil's forehead as he slept soundly.

.......

Jamil hated being sick. Pretty normal right? Everybody hates being sick.

But to Jamil, sickness meant pushing through and continuing with his chores, regardless of his wellbeing. Imagine cooking above a hot stove with a high temperature. Can't be pleasant, can it?

But even the hardest stones could crack under enough force - such is the way the world works. It was towards the end of the day, as Jamil was preparing Kalim's dinner, when he felt his body give out under him. All day he'd been going around with a fever, he felt as if his own body was rotting on the inside, screaming at him to stop and have a break. His eyes were watery and felt as though they were burning in his eye sockets.

He couldn't even reach a chair to sit, before his knees buckled and he fell to the floor - too dizzy and too weak. Rarely did he ever get this sick, but this time it was bad. He moved to a more comfortable position and remained like that, trying to gather enough strength to get some medicine..... He most certainly didn't realise he'd fallen asleep, too tired to move, nor did he hear Kalim's worried voice when he found him on the floor in the kitchen.

And Kalim? Kalim was terrified! Quickly he called on his dorm members to move him to his room and immediately called you, crying on the phone, worried that Jamil might never wake up. (That's not how colds work, Kalim-) Worried about Jamil, you immediately rushed to the Scarabia dorm, medicine in hand.

_____________

And now here you are, in the present, taking extensive care of your near delirious not-quite-boyfriend-but-kinda-love-interest. He'd occasionally wake up and exchange barely audible pleasantries with you, drink his "extra healthy and full of good stuff" chicken soup (whatever that was supposed to entail) and then fall back into slumber. His fever has gone down drastically, but the utter exhaustion left in its wake has kept him bedridden. Apparently it was a seasonal fever, which just so happened to hit Jamil, who in turn chose to ignore it in the beginning.

You'd taken the liberty to remain situated in his room for about three days.

Day one was the worst - high fever, clattering teeth and a sleepless night to boot. You'd change his shirt every time he'd drench it in sweat whilst fighting off the fever. You'd switch up the cloth every time it lost its cooling effect, you'd remained by his side the entire time, least he needed something anything at all.

"Once you get better, I'm so gonna yell at you for not taking better care of yourself.... You're lucky I love you." You'd mumbled, barely audible in the quiet of the room as he slept.

Day two was better - he slept through most of it and you could in turn prepare some soup, as well as cover most of his chores, get a pass from the teachers AND even leave him some of your notes for when he recovers. (Look at you go! He'd better propose imo)

Now, on day three he was evidently much healthier. Finally he gave up trying to get out of bed, and instead lay resting, drinking his medicine, feeling utterly pampered by you.

_____________

"How long have you...been here?" You seemed pretty tired in his eyes. The moment you heard his voice you immediately threw yourself gently on him, gently crushing his bones in a hug.

"A while." You responded, face buried in his chest. In reality, you hadn't had a proper night of sleep in about 3 days. You DID sleep, Kalim even prepared a guest bedroom, but you chose to remain next to Jamil for most of the time. "Do you know how worried I was?"

"You didn't have to do all this, you know? You could've get sick too."

"I could've, but I haven't. For somebody with such a keen eye and monstrous deliberation, you really don't know how to take care of yourself properly." You quipped back, moving to sit on the bed next to him.

"As, so I'm being reprimanded now." His gaze softened. "Thank you....for taking care of me these last few days... I've forgotten what it's like to not have to worry or do anything... I feel like I've slept a lifetime... I don't know how I could possibly return the favour."

You can't stay mad at him. He knows it, you know it. Hell, even the Great Seven know it.

"Return it by recovering completely."

He chose not to continue the conversation. He knew arguing was pointless.

"You know, while I was sleeping, or trying to, I was mostly aware of what was happening around me." He began, pushing himself up, in a sitting position. "When you'd quietly hum to yourself, or cuss when you couldn't find something..."

"Ah- well, did you now? Sorry if you had a difficult time falling asleep because of me. " you felt your cheeks warm up a bit.

"No no, please. It's fine. You've taken such good care of me. I just... couldn't help but hear something, which perhaps I wasn't meant to."

He reached out, tangling his hand in your hair.

"Something about you loving me?"

...

Nope, all that heat in your cheeks? Gone. Now it was just coldness and dread.

He saw your frazzled state and chuckled. "I guess I'm really lucky, to have you to take *such* good care of me, huh."

He leaned in, but stopped just centimetres away.

"I shouldn't."

You heart dropped even lower, if that was even possible.

"I could get you sick.~" There was a lilt to his voice, but his eyes showed concern.

"Oh, for fuck's sake-" you leaned in, smashing your lips onto his. He smiled into the kiss, pulling you towards him.

Naturally, you moved to sit in his lap, his hands moving to your waist.

"Your feelings are returned, for the record." He mumbled in between heated kisses. The more heated the kisses became, the more his hands would wander until-

In the blink of an eye, he flipped you over, so that you were underneath him. Skillfully he unbuttoned the first few buttons of your uniform, revealing more of your neck and collarbones. "I think I have a way of returning the favour. You took such good care of me, I think it's my turn~"

His attention moved to your neck, leaving heated languid kisses and playful bites on your skin. His hand trailed down to spread your legs, moving between them. Every single touch of his was intoxicating. Pretty quickly your shirt was thrown on the floor, the supple flesh underneath - covered in hickeys.

"Are you not going to undress as well? Or should I do that for you?" you asked, breathless, yet teasing in manner. Well. As teasing as one could get, given how achingly turned on you were. "Like you didn't have more than enough time to appreciate the view, during these last few days." he teased right back, but his hands moved to grip the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head.

"I've wanted to do this for a long time." He practically purred, fingers gliding over your stomach, gently trailing lower and lower.

"Of course, you can tell me to stop anytime."

"I don't want you to."

"As you wish, my dear. Then I'll make sure to indulge, taking, tasting, touching every single part of you. "

[luimagines]

You Give Him A Massage Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2 will include Time, Warrior and Wind.

Content under the cut!

Time

You hadn’t meant for it to this to happen- but in your defense, you were here first. 

Wild had somehow convinced the group to stop by the Eldin hot springs for a few hours so that they could properly unwind and heal for a moment despite the chaos of their journey. You happily agreed. Not because you thought that hot springs are a healing experience (you’re not entirely sure what he meant by that) but you’ve never been to a hot spring before. It sounded absolutely lovely.

You meandered a little ways away from the group behind a rock outcropping and made yourself comfortable in the little pool of water. It was deeper than you thought it would be and pleasantly hot. If you bent your knees a little bit you could have dunked your entire head in the water- but you weren’t aiming for that at the moment.

You closed your eyes and relaxed as much as you felt like you could have- which to say, completely.

Suddenly the water splashed a little ways away from you- but it’s not like the pool you had chosen was particularly big. You’re eyes widened in shock before you sunk a little further into the pool. “Uh- hello?”

 “Oh goodness, I’m sorry.” Time calls out. “I didn’t anyone was here.”

“Yeah... it’s a nice spot, isn’t it?” You kick yourself mentally. How awkward can you get? “It’s... a little far away from everyone else so-”

“Yeah... It’s why I came here.” He says quietly. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your time though- I apologize. I’ll go elsewhere.”

“You don’t-” You start and bite your tongue. You did want t be alone. But it almost feels like you’re kicking him out and it’s not like you own the spring. Are you overthinking this? You try a that again. “You don’t have to leave.”

That seems to Time food for thought. “Would you mind if I stayed then? For a little bit?”

Honestly? “No. I don’t.”

Time seems to sigh of relief and sinks further into the springs, keeping his distance away from you. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

You settle for ignoring him for the time being. It’s easier this way. About an hour passes and you think you might have stayed in longer than you should have. Although you do feel a lot better than before.

You turn to Time who’s still relaxing with his eyes closed. Unless he’s fallen asleep. That wouldn’t be good. Not about to take the risk, you try to not pay attention to the fact that he’s shirtless and put a hand on his shoulder. 

It’s about as solid as rock.

“Yes?” He asks you.

“Time-” No, no one else is around. You can say it. “Link, what the hell did you to yourself?”

“Nothing.” He grumbles.

“Lies.” You spit and try to work the spot. Time grunts a little but doesn’t stop you.

“It’s not going to work.” He says quietly.

Well, you’re not about to leave him like that. “It’s just means we’ll be here for longer then.”

You keep kneading his shoulder for a while before turning him around so that you would have better access. It’s longer than either of you are willing to admit and you’re hand hurt by the end of it, but Time feels significantly better at the end.

He falls asleep almost instantly when they set up camp later in the day. You’ve never seen that happen before.

Warrior

You all had finally settled down for the night at last. The battle today wasn’t anything strenuous by any means but that was purely from your point of view.

You looked around and saw that many of the boys had taken a bit of a beating. Nothing to take concern to, but you worried that some of the bruises would last a while. Or at least your group got more potions to pass around for the time being.

Warrior in particular looked as if he was paying for something that he may or may not have done during the fight. He took his armor and layer off with a groan and a sigh of marginal relief before he tried to stretch his back with very little success.

You could see when it went the wrong way for him, since his face contorted and flinch before he snapped back to his previous position. You hissed in his behalf.

“Ouch.” You make your way over to him. “Pull something, Captain?”

He winces and reaches behind him to rub the spot between his shoulder blades. “You could say that.”

You shook your head and sat down next to him. You lean back to get a look and poke the spot. Warrior instant sits a little straighter to alleviate the pressure you’ve put there. “Hey- don’t.”

“Hold on.” You cut him off instead and turn him around so you wouldn’t have to pull your own muscle in the process.

You press your thumbs into the spot and slowly begin to move in small circles, slowly loosening up the area before you start to move the muscles back into place. 

Warrior was tense at first but within seconds he relaxed to your touch and slumped enough to make it easier on you. “That.... feels a lot better thank you.”

“You’re not one to usually injure yourself, Captain.” You say under your breath. Unlike most of the guys here, you don’t intend to broadcast your scolding. “How did you manage this?”

Warrior stays silent but one small look forward tells you that he’s actually think about what to say. He genuinely has to think back to what he did that might have caused this. It feels like it should annoy you but you know better. Anyone else would have probably assumed that it meant that he had so many instances that he would have to go through each one to pin point the cause for this effect.

But in reality, Warrior took great pride in not getting so often on the battle field. He’s probably just trying to think about how he actually to hard on himself even if it was split second decision that he’s currently paying for.

“I threw my sword.”

You stop entirely. “I beg your pardon?”

“I threw my sword.” Warrior cups the back of his neck sheepishly. “Hyrule was going to be overtaken by the amount of monsters around him. I wouldn’t have been able to run that fast... but my sword could make it in time if I-”

“I can’t believe you.” You message the spot once more with a little less empathy than before. 

Right. He’s still a Link. How could you forget?”

“...Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” You say a little louder. “You’re the one that took yourself out at the end of the day.”

“...I think I looked cool though.”

Hyrule laughs on the other side of the growing fire. “Yeah. He looked pretty cool when he came in to save my hide. He jumped in like a bat out of hell.”

You deadpan. “Good grief.”

Wind

It was a long day of walking. 

You were used to it at this point. You loved to go on walks and hikes up the mountains by your home, so this was nothing- but others... weren’t as well prepared for the travel as you thought they would be,

“Ah!” Wind cried out falling beside you.

You didn’t hesitate to fall down next to him, trying to catching him before he would have hit his face on the sharp rocks on the trail. “Wind? What happened?”

He whines and tries to push himself up but instead he just rolls over. “I have a cramp in my leg.”

You move to give him room as he props himself up his elbows. “It hurts.”

You sit softly on your knees and begin to poke around. “Where?”

He takes a deep breath. “Left leg, above my shoe.”

“Your calf then.” You hop over him and sit down on that side. You take your leg and start to move your hand down the length of the muscle. Wind grits his teeth, choking on the sound that threatened to leave his mouth.

“Hold on, this won’t take too long.” You pat his knee and continue putting the muscle back into place. “Remind me to yell at Time for pushing you this far. You’re not used to this much walking.”

“I can keep up just as well as the other guys.” He spits. There’s no small amount of venom to his voice, but you ignore it. You’ve had cramps before. You’re about to go off on him about his tone just because he’s hurting.

You keep at it, massaging the muscle. It fights you and poor Wind has to pay for it. Eventually, your “disappearance” garners the attention of the rest of the group. You can hear Sky and Wild calling for the both of you.

You sigh and call back to them. “We’re here! Give us a minute!”

They don’t seem to trust your words because they right next to you not even thirty seconds later. Sky’s jaw drops as he rushes next to Wind. “What happened?”

“Wind’s leg cramped up. He fell over.” You don’t look at the other hero, simply focusing on helping the boy feel better and get back on his own two feet.

Wind looks away from Sky in shame, blushing at being caught. Sky frowns and glares. “We’re done for today.”

Wind’s eyes widen, he goes to reach for him but Sky leaves his reach too quickly. “Sky-!”

“This isn’t ok.” He snaps back. “I’m telling the others to call it. We all need a break.”

“Here.” Wild hands Wind a small vial. “This’ll help.”

Wind takes it begrudgingly, pouting as he sips on it. “Thanks.”

You snort, running your hands down his leg one more time. “That should do it. Do you think you can stand?”

You stand up and hold out your hand. Wind takes it and with your help, gets back onto his feet. He wobbles for a second before he starts to walk again. It’s clear he doesn’t trust his own feet before be can limp back to the others. Wind drinks the rest of the potion.

You frown. He’s still not where you would like him to be. “Come on. Break time.”

Part 3

[justevelynnnn]

I want to be more

Summary: You work in a brothel in the early 1900s after WW1. You had few clients but just started having one regular. He was solider. You fall for him only after a few times of meeting. You soon wanted to be more than…whatever this is.

Warnings: Cussing, Reader is a woman, prostitution, smut mentioning throughout, alcohol consumption, signs of limerence, angsty ending

(this is barely proofread too)

A/N: This idea came to me out of nowhere..i’m so happy with it though. I had fun incorporating 1920s slang into this too. I think i have an idea for a part 2 but that might come later..

It was a cold winter day. Clients came in less when it was cold, not wanting to travel through the snow. Only the really, truly libidinous would come during these times. You enjoyed it. A break. But with breaks came no money being made.

The owner was generous enough to let you and a few others stay in your private rooms and live there. You’ve been here for 5 years now. A job is a job. It paid enough for you to scrape by. Not that you really enjoyed it.

You got used to it quick. At least, as used to it as you could. As one could. At first, you were a nervous, naiive olive, but now you’re a stronger, almost street smart woman. You knew how to handle yourself, how you should be treated. Men knew now to respect you. To not try and get out of paying or overstep boundaries.

You drank often to hide any pain. Forget any and all traumas. You always were tipsy if it could be helped when it was time to work. It made it…easier. Lighter.

The brothel itself was nice. Spacious. Luxurious. A blind tiger as most described it. Disguised as just a fancy bar for any authority figures who passed by.

You got paid well because of this by each client but really only ever made just enough for rent some food and maybe a dress or something else. You weren’t too popular to get many clients. Most men you had were Soldiers from the war. Occasionally, if you looked nice enough, an egg or wealthy man. Most of them were married. Older. Drunks, whether it was a secret or not.

You didn’t care for them. They didn’t care for you more. It was just business.

But there was one man who was different. One man who stood out to you. Who made you feel something other than a deep disgust.

His name was Logan Howlett.

He was young seeming, never telling his age. He just got back from the war. Obviously worn down by the trauma he possibly witnessed. Eyes told it all as well like many other soldiers. He always drank. Sometimes smoked a cigar. But always went right up to you.

At first, you almost refused him. He was dirty, and swaying around. He gave you a damp crumpled up $50 and mumbled about your hips and eyes. He smelled a bit too-

But then he pulled out another $50. You were convinced now. $100! was alot. You’d choke this encounter down too.

But he was surprisingly good. He didn’t just fuck you. No. He made love to you. He was soft. Gentle. You were almost taken aback. He treated you like glass. He actually even licked your core, something 90% of your clients ignored. Until you came 3 times you didn’t see his manhood.

He fell asleep next you, exhausted and sad. He was a sad drunk. He told you how he wanted to marry you, how he wanted to run away from everything with someone. Most men would confess things to you either before or after. But you ignored a lot because they were often drunk, like Logan.

Logan logan logan.

His first encounter with you left an impression.

A week passed and you still couldn’t get him off your mind. It was almost depressing. And just when you felt like he’d never return, he did.

He walked in, head down. Sat at the bar for an hour just drinking. And then he looked for you. You didn’t go up to him, just to see how long he’d look before he settled for another. But he never did. He keep looking. Looking and looking and walking and walking.

Then he saw you and walked up to you quickly. A hug. A drunken, messy hug and kiss.

“I never got your name, dear..” He whispered. He could barely stand.

Did you want him to have your real or work name?

“It’s y/n.” You said softly.

“y/n……… y/n…” Logan repeated slowly. “Beautiful li’you. Pretty girl…”

You could barely hear him. He had his hand in your lower back that horribly distracted you. A soft, “your mine” hold. Possessive. Different from other men.

You started to love the taste of whiskey just because you always tasted it on his lips. You started to love the faint scent on cigar on his hairy chest. Dog tags hitting you in the face has he thrusted into you. The way he held you like you’d get away. Treated you like you weren’t just a couple of wet holes but a human. A woman. Even drunk he was somewhat of a gentleman.

You wonder why he chose you. Why did ever go to you. Did he go to other brothels too? He seemed infatuated with you and you him.

You told the other women about him after the fifth time. They barely believed you. A bit of jealousy filled the air as they were rarely, if at all, treated so lovely. No, everyone was just holes. Just holes. Eye candy and holes.

The next time Logan came some women tried to climb on him. They offered him discounts. You almost wanted to fucking spit. He wasn’t yours though so why did you feel like this?

It made you damn near giddy as you watched him shoo them away like flies. Almost disgusted. Like he was some virgin waiting for marriage. Like it was almost rude for women to act like that despite where he was. The women huffed and walked away, some back to their rooms and others to other men. A couple have you a glance or so but said nothing.

You just waited for Logan to come back to you and touch you and treat you like you were more.

You felt spoiled.

He really acted like you two were going together. You began to wonder if he was courting you in some odd way.

Rumors started amongst the women who cared that you two were dating and you almost got put out. The number one rule was to never date your clients. Ever.

You assured he was just stuck on you or something and it wasn’t your fault. That he paid you the best. Out loud you say money, in your head you say attention.

He certainly becomes all you think about. Oh yes. Ohhh yes. You started noticing little details. His beard that was sometimes shaven. His hair. How it smelled. How it was the only soft thing on him. His nose. He once confessed he hated it but you loved it. He let you ride it once. Amazing experience.

And was such a sex magician. That’s how’d you describe him anyways. He was awfully skilled. You really wondered if he got practice before you. And how much?

You learned bits and pieces about him after sex. He’d lay there and talk about the war. Why he drank sometimes. How me missed his family. How he wished he was “normal”. Normal huh.

You never spoke much. You didn’t have anything but this. Your home life and childhood was rough, obviously leading you here. You had no special talents or dreams really. You recently has some interest with becoming one of those flapper women. But he was the first bit of true excitement you had in a while.

Logan stopped coming for a while. This time you were sure he wouldn’t return. The first week was horrible. You laid in bed like a rag doll as men used you, thinking about how Logan would at least butter you up before anything started. You mindlessly counted money as you wondered where Logan could be. You drank and drank to try and forget but he left such an impression on you it didn’t work.

The other women “comforted” you, but deep down we’re happy you were back to their level, with no special clients.

“You shouldn’t get so attached to the clients!”

“It was fun while it lasted huh now, sweets? Oh, i experienced the same thing.”

“An odd cat he was…maybe it’s for the best.”

You ignored it all. You didn’t care for any of that shit. Fuck it all. You just wanted him back.

Did he even care for you the way you did him? Would he even remember you? Did he? He was so drunk sometimes….you couldn’t tell if he cared at all. He remembered your name sure but that was it. You just couldn’t deny your feelings anymore.

These deep feelings.

Limerence.

There was passion that drove you crazy. You felt like you were going crazy.

Days blurred. Holidays passed. Men came and went. Take that both ways.

But this cold winter day, he returned. You were sitting on a stool, drinking again. It was just your 3rd.

You hear the door open and the little bell rang. Heavy footsteps. Leftover snow underneath crushing under boots. You turned around as you felt the presence behind you, getting ready to say your prices and hours assuming this man wanted your services.

However, you stopped mid breath as you turned and saw… “….Logan?”

He took his hat off and nodded. He quietly sat next to you and stared into your eyes. He was sober but had dark circles.

“I been busy you see..” He starts, his breath smells of straight cigar. “Th’s why i haven’t been around.”

You’re buzzed and you think you’re dreaming. You’re sure you look a mess right now.

“I missed you, Lo..” You whispered.

Logan looks away. He sighs. He says nothing for a long while. It worried you. Did you cross a boundary? Was it too far?

“That’s the issue, doll.”

Logan turns to look you in the eyes, brows furrowed. Your heart rate picks up but you felt a heartbeat elsewhere after the nickname came out his mouth. Doll..

“Wait-” You start but he puts a finger to your lips.

“You are a prostitute baby. I’m…a mess. A drunk vet. Addicted to giggle water. You don’t want me. It don’t make sense. We’ve gotten too deep into this. I come for a quick fuck and then back to reality as it should be. You don’t want this, pretty..”

You feel your heart break. You sober up a bit too.

“It don’t feel quick to me. You treat me like i’m human. You the only one.” Your voice cracks a bit. You are also a sad drunk most days so the alcohol was not helping you process this situation properly.

Logan has an unreadable look on his face. He shakes his head soon after and licks his lips. He’s thinking. Maybe you caught him off guard? The lobby was suddenly very quiet even though it’s been like that the whole time. Just you, Logan and the bartender. There was a woman in the corner but she was preoccupied with a man herself, paying no mind to you or Logan.

You want to puke.

“Logan-”

“Close your head, woman. You stuck on me or something?” He says a bit sharp.

You just nod biting your lip. Suddenly you’re drunk again. The room is spinning a bit and you couldn’t sit straight with a constant nagging to go hysterical.

“We can’t keep doing this. We just can’t.” He says not looking you in the eye anymore. “We can’t.”

“Oh, applesauce…why not?”

“Because we can’t. You listening? You must be zozzled. Listen to me, you don’t want this. I’m telling you.”

“But, i do want you. It’s all i want now. You’re all i want now. Please, Lo. Don’t leave me here.”

“Y/n…”

“I want to be more than this.” You spit out. Logan freezes. He almost looked scared for a second. A tear falls out your eye as Logan gets up swiftly after you say it.

“Goodbye, y/n.”

You say nothing. He hands you a $100 and tells you to buy something nice. You watch, sadly, as he goes out the door.

You swivel back around.

“I need everything this can buy please.” You hold up thr $100 to the bartender. He looks at you like you have two heads but starts getting many cups out.

You’re going to be drinking for days.

[junosmindpalace]

Im in love with your senku x reader writings

They are absolutely adorable🥺

Ive been sick for a whole week now and i still feel terrible

It made me wonder how Senku would act with reader being sick and bedridden?

And Senku is just near her side, watching over her?🥺

Maybe y/n collapses during all the hard work in the stone world, and turns out having a strong fever?

Watching her fall asleep, keeping her tucked in, handing her water etc

I think they would be the absolute cutest 🥺🥺

thank you so much for your request and patience! i hope you were able to recover quickly (me and my horrid timing…)!

--! warnings: sickness, anxiety(?)

--> wc: 1k

The shift from living in an advanced civilization to the stone age was massive and required a lot of adjusting. 

You were fortunate enough to exist in a time where everything you could ever want and need was easily accessible, from all the knowledge in the world at your fingertips to all sorts of items at your disposal. All your basic necessities could be easily met with a short walk to the supermarket. 

So when all of that turned upside down, it was a challenge to keep up.

The petrification took a large toll on you when you awoke from your lengthy slumber. You were powerless to save the people you loved and who brought you comfort. Most of your time was spent attempting to accommodate your new living circumstances, physically and mentally. 

Anxiety and panic was a constant in the back of your mind with so much unknown about the potential attack on mankind, and you were unable to soothe yourself with the hobbies you once enjoyed. Your physical health also suffered. Your diet had changed drastically, you were forced to take on a lot of labor in order to stay alive. 

But throughout it all, Senku made adjusting easier by helping you learn everything you needed to know to help you survive in your new environment. The two of you worked together to hunt, build shelter and tools and fashion clothing. Senku’s determination and upbeatness despite such a traumatic life altering event helped keep you sane. You didn’t need to strain yourself as much when Taiju and Yuzuriha later joined the group either, especially with Taiju’s endless stamina. 

When you and Senku split from your friends in order to establish alliances with other potential survivors, you came along a small village that also helped in terms of labor. You befriended and recruited many strong and resourceful people to help the both of you with your mission. Still, you were doing a lot. Your body didn’t have the time to gradually adjust to your new lifestyle. 

For a while, you were able to push through. For the sake of your survival, work took priority. But eventually, sometime after Ruri was cured, you couldn’t keep hitting ignore on your exhaustion, and eventually you felt the consequences of this action catch up to you.

It seemed that there was always something to do in Ishigami Village, which was unsurprising considering your circumstances. It was a particularly harsh sunny day, the sun beating down at the villagers who tried, futilely, to rid themselves of the discomfort the sun’s glare brought them.

“Particularly hot out today, huh, Senku?” Gen panted out from beside his scientist friend, the two both sharing uncomfortable looks on their faces. 

“It hasn’t been this hot in a while! We should make sure the children and elderly are alright.” Kohaku commented upon overhearing, putting a hand over her eyes to shield the sun’s rays and survey the villagers. Senku mimicked her not far away. 

“We won’t get much work done under these conditions. We should probably-” Senku had started, but a thud interrupted his train of thought. Everyone turned toward the sound to find you had collapsed and lied unconscious on the ground. 

Immediately your friends were at your side, the strongest villagers, Kohaku and Magma, carrying you into one of the huts in the village. After Senku assessed you, he realized to his horror that you had come down with a strong fever. In the modern world, a cold was nothing to stress over, especially at your age. But with the change in…everything, it was a lot more concerning, especially since Ruri had almost died of pneumonia.

Luckily, the Kingdom of Science’s sulfa drug was successful, but the downside was that it needed time to create again. In the meantime, your friends did everything they could to accommodate your sickness, Senku being at the forefront of it all.

Kohaku delivered spring water like she did in order to help with Ruri’s sickness, and Chrome, along with Suika and other villagers, would collect various supplies Senku advised him of to help with your recovery- food, materials for medical tools and the like. Senku stayed by your side throughout it all, making sure to assess you regularly and work to get the panacea done as soon as possible.

It was uncomfortable enough being sick in the modern world, but with the amount of pain you were in from your fever along with not being able to enjoy your old comforts, the fever took a higher toll on you than expected.

Senku stayed by your side to soothe you the best ways he knew how. He used his knowledge of science to create whatever forms of entertainment he could, and having another person from your time was also a comfort. He did his best to make you laugh and help keep you out of your panicked mindset.

At the peak of your illness, and when your anxiety was at its highest, Senku stayed by your side and watched over you until you fell asleep, sometimes lingering in the house or setting up his own sleeping bag beside. He convinced himself it was for your peace of mind, but deep down, being near you and able to quickly respond to anything alarming also helped put his heart and mind at ease.

“You’ll be okay, Y/N. You’ll recover from this, I’m ten billion percent certain of it. Get your rest.” He’d tell you with all the confidence in the world, and it was hard not to believe him when his words were so firm and full of certainty. 

Senku would lean over and tuck you in, insisting that it was important that you kept yourself warm. He helped you drink water when you were too weak to do so yourself, and encouraged you to sleep a lot in between meals.  

Your sickness put you out of commission for work for a while before the medicine was finished, and even after taking the medicine, your body still needed to adjust after having been used to more modern ones. 

Eventually your fever symptoms slowly started to lessen, and through the hot spring water, food and other things, along with Senku’s assessments of your condition, you were back on your feet feeling reborn. Senku made sure to continue monitoring you from time to time, and told you to come to him if you were ever feeling down again, both physically and mentally (because as much as you wanted to avoid worrying him, his attentive eye and big heart always manage to see through you).

[prettyboykatsuki]

warms-ups | osamu + nsfw + cream

✬ wc ; 1.5k | ✬ tags ; afab + fem!reader, mentions of creampies, kitchen sex / after hours, alchohol, childhood friends to lovers, 18+

✬ a/n ; i SWEAR i did not rig this one at all😭

There's something about Osamu Miya that sends your spine tingling.

A divine kind of irony, because upon meeting them - you always preferred his brother. Atsumu is approachable to you, always has been. Poorly dyed blonde hair, with big round eyes and a signature pout that you've hardly seen him without. Atsumu is expressive and extroverted - at times deeply stupid in a way that's incredibly endearing.

You've known the Miya twins since you were snot-nosed brats though (long before the poor box dye), and it was easier for you to be alone with Atsumu. Atsumu took up so much space in a room that you never have to worry about fitting yourself in. He fills every place with his presence in a way that lets you hide behind him. Atsumu is like the sun.

And in contrast, Osamu is a lot like the moon. It took you a little longer to understand him, especially when you were young. They were twins but Osamu felt mature in comparison. Embodied a story of level, steadiness that left you unsettled.

(You learn later that this is a deceitful interpretation. Both of the Miya twins are petty and ridiculous - it's just that Osamu schemes it and Atsumu wears it on his sleeve)

Osamu has been a mystery to you since you can remember. He was never expressive enough for you to figure it out well, your exchanges being brief and stilted. It got less awkward gradually, a sense of acceptance settling in as you entered your teen years.

There's something valuable about being alone with someone, in complete comfortable silence. At 15, Osamu Miya felt a lot like an old couch. A place to come back to, with achey feet. A place you'd fall asleep, with your jeans still on and your head somewhere else.

You were there for their many milestones. When they got into Inarizaki, when they played all their games. You were there for their metaphorical break-up as they got to adulthood and you all parted ways to your different paths in life.

You still saw the Miya twins on a semi-frequent basis. You and Osamu were the first people Atsumu always called. Always in group messages and calls. When you finally graduated college, you landed a job close to the very Onigiri Miya opened.

It was probably about then. It wasn't like you hadn't always known about how good looking the Miya twins were. Your friends used to practically beg you to set them up and you don't blame them. But Atsumu always felt like a little brother to you and...

Osamu felt...not like that. But it wasn't like you could process that information at any point. Swept up in life, in teenage insecurity (because damnit, Osamu was always ridiculously good looking too) and in the general awkwardness of crushing on someone you've known since diapers - you tried to ignore it.

You thought those butterflies would die if you suffocated them, so you buried your nose in the books. Grew from a girl into a woman, into a fully bloomed person all in a few years. None of it mattered, because spending time with Osamu always seems to make you feel 15 again.

You don't quite know when it happened. One day of deciding to do your work in a booth at Onigiri Miya turned into many, and it seems like you and Osamu see each other a lot lately.

Osamu Miya is a lot bigger than his brother, you learn quickly. Atsumu is lean from his setting, muscular in a lithe way. Natural agility all befitting of his slippery character.

Osamu, too, has grown in a way befitting of his personality. Osamu got bigger. Started hitting the weights enough that he's muscular, soft and sturdy, the kind you can only see when he flexes. They're both still tall, but Osamu... is big.

Osamu is also, very handsome. Aware of it too, because he usually uses it to reel in customers. His face is different to you. Osamu looks less like a boy you grew up and more like a man you'd squeeze your legs together thinking about.

But even now, you don't understand what thoughts Osamu has about you.

You thought you were imagining it. The intensity of his gaze when he peeked at you from the counter. The subtle touches and plates of food you didn't pay for. Maybe he felt like he should take care of on old friend. Maybe the low way he whispered in your ear telling you "take care on yerr way home," were just your imagination playing tricks.

You only learn it late, taste-testing recipes in the back of his kitchen that it was all very intentional. It's your fault for forget Osamu is the kind of person to scheme.

A little sake in your system has you stumbling over your words. In the midst of your bumbling - all it takes is one, "I've always liked you" to entangle yourself with Osamu Miya.

A little kissing, a little touching - the way he coaxes you is so much like him. Subtle but overwhelming, a full moon in a deep sky.

In the back of Onigiri Miya, Osamu has your panties around your ankle. The warmth of alcohol is bubbling in your chest and embarrassment is rushing through every vein in your body - you want to shy away from him.

Of course, Osamu won't let you. You've got your arms around his shoulder, thick neck against your forearms. Your legs are up in the air, and your back is so hot against the cool metal. All you can feel his him in the air around you. He smells like a man who works, sweat and skin and salt.

You can feel the euphoria in your body to the point it's gut-wrenching, an overwhelming sensation like you're anxious. It's hard to describe. Tacky from sweat, you feel your fingers tremble as you move your hands to squeeze his shoulder.

Osamu puts his hand over it, squeezes it, kisses your wrists with all the affection of over two decades of desire. You feel it all over your body, delirium setting in. You want him so much you don't know what do. You whine, open your mouth to say his name.

Osamu shushes you. His cock is hard, thick and so heavy. He's got hair that tickles your legs. You can feel the tip press into your clit like he's kissing it, pushing against the soft folds of your pussy makes you shiver. Arousal drips out of you, a fruit squeezed in big hands that pick them. You want to cry.

"Samu," You mumble, your lips sheen and your heart in your belly "Osamu, please,"

"Look at you," He says, sounding just as bad as you "Wantin' it so bad. Never seen ya like this,"

You've never been like this. You don't get it yourself. Why you're head feels so blank. Your jaw feels heavy like you can't close it. Inside it's all empty and you want to be so full of him, surrounded by him.

"I don't know," You hiccup, holding him so tight. You want to sob "I really want you. Wan' you to want me too,"

Osamu laughs. God, it sounds good. Deep and throaty.

"I do. Ya know I do, don't ya? Our whole lives. My whole life."

"Osamu," You repeat. He laughs a little, maybe like he's amused. It feels so merciful when kisses you. The feeling of your bare chest against his makes you feel euphoric, skin practically begging for his attention.

"That's right, 's me" He says, trailing his lips down your neck "I'm already here,"

He doesn't ask you for anymore, so it feels like he's reading your mind. His fingers grip your hips as he eases his cock inside of you. Inch, by agonizing inch - you can feel it. The rubbing of such sensitive skin. You gasp and tighten your legs, crossing your feet at the ankle. You hold his back and feel your eyes roll over into your head. Pleasure pulls you apart.

"Oh, oh fuck," You feel your nails dig into his skin, Osamu hisses "Y-yeah, yeah, like that."

You don't know where you start and Osamu stops. It's all the same, one mess of limbs and one train of thought where your feelings swallow you up. Your heartbeat beats against your ribs and you feel like you can't handle. Osamu eases into you slow, his cock makes you so full. You can't take in enough air for how much it pushes out, walls taking shape of him naturally.

"So damn good," He says with all the force in the world. You think Osamu means it when he says you wants you "Shit."

"Please fuck me."

"Till ya can't take it, yeah? Promise, promise I will."

"Want you to cum in me," You admit, shame disappearing as the seconds pass. As Osamus cock fucks you open enough to confess about it "Over 'n over,"

"Want me to cream in you so bad? Yerr so dirty, where'd you go 'n learn that from huh?" He taunts, but it's not mean. You whimper as you roll your hips, your clit throbbing's with need.

"Please, pretty please?"

"Anything for you," He says, and you feel your insides tremble with need - even buried to the tilt. He pulls out in one swift motion, pushing back in with the same force as before. You cry out his name and your body loses it's strength "Take it f'r me, okay?"

[axel-skz]

You’re not funny…

A/N: I feel not tired at all and kind of nauseous. I think I’m severely dehydrated but drinking the water gives me even more nausea so… tf do I do? Write a fanfic and ignore my problems. I did not proof read it and It’s not a literary masterpiece so please, lower your expectations lol (shuffled my stray kids playlist and we got thunderous this time ;) for our boys thunderous dance moves (I mean that was terrible but I wanna play a song for every fic now so, yeah lol))

Summary: Minho is expecting a nice weekend together that he needed very much but you’re planning to play a prank.

Minho x Gender neutral reader

Minho had been getting frustrated very fast lately. Getting burnt out a lot because this comeback had been so demanding. He could see all the work coming too because they had been told, they were going on tour.

Now he was agitated because he was working all the time and he couldn’t spend time with his loved ones.

He knew what would make him feel better though. Spending time with you. All he was looking forward to all week was a whole weekend with you.

What he didn’t know was that the perfect storm was brewing. At the time where he wanted nothing but affection fhe most, you had the plan to play a prank on him.

You would try your best to swerve anytime he wanted a kiss or a hug. You had seen it on tiktok a lot recently and you just really wanted to try it out.

Horrible timing honestly but you had no idea.

He had called on monday and you would both be spending the weekend together. He hadn’t told you about the tour either because he hadn’t got the chance to. You would never be playing this prank if you knew.

Friday afternoon, he arrives. You hear him knocking on your door and instantly, you ready yourself. Usually you would run to him in the most dramatic way possible and give him a hug. He acted like he hated it but it made him feel wanted.

While he thought about how much he needed that hug, you were making sure you wouldn’t do it. As you opened the door, he stood there for what felt like a century, expecting the hug. You looked st him with confusion.

‘You good?’ You asked with a puzzled look.

‘You usually hug me when you open the door,’ he also looked extremely confused.

‘Oh, you hate it so I thought I wouldn’t do it. Come in,’ you smiled at him. As he walked in, you took the things he was carrying. It was your way of busying yourself.

He let out a sigh as he sat on the sofa, ‘I’m so tired. I could barely sleep yesterday.’

‘Aww, that’s sad. Have you had a hard time sleeping for a while or just last night?’ You came back after putting his bag in your room.

He looked at you and you could see how tired he was, ‘all week. So much work and I just don’t even want to think about it. It’s early as hell but can we watch a movie and take a nap?’

Code for watch something and cuddle. He wasn’t one to just outright ask for physical contact so you had gotten use to recognising when he wanted it and how he asked.

‘Of course we can do that,’ you smiled at him and set up everything for a movie.

You got some sweets and popcorn with the softest blankets. You picked a feel good movie that you both really liked and started to get settled. You played the movie and sat down on the floor.

He was surprised, ‘why are you on the floor? There’s plenty of room on the sofa.’

‘You should stretch out and get comfy. It’ll be easier to fall asleep. I have some work I need to do so I’ll sit here and do it when you fall asleep,’ you said while feigning interest in the movie.

It’s like you could feel him pouting. And he was.

‘Could you not do the work tomorrow?’

‘I’m sorry, my love. It’s urgent. I need to get it in by the end of the day.’

‘S’okay…’ he covered himself in blankets and got comfortable. He didn’t let it show just how hurt he was by it.

He fell asleep after a little while. He woke up a couple hours later and you had nodded off while working on the floor. Your brief was on the table and he looked at it.

He tried to help you with your work sometimes because you liked his opinions on it. As he read through it, he noticed it wasn’t due for another two weeks. That hurt him again because he didn’t understand why you lied.

He moved back and laid back down. He didn’t know how long he stared at the cieling before you woke up. He pretended to sleep when you got up to check on him. You picked up your stuff after you fixed the blanket so it was covering him properly.

After that, you started cooking for dinner. He took a little while before he got up. He acted groggy as he walked into kitchen. You heard him shuffle in and it was so hard not to hug him when he looked so cute with the wayward hair and the puffy cheeks.

‘Sleep well?’ You asked as you moved to the fridge.

‘Mhm, something about this place helps me sleep,’ he smiled.

‘Pff- you’re so sweet,’ you giggled a bit as you gave him some juice.

‘I was talking about your sofa and the tv but whatever helps you sleep at night.’

You playfully glared at him, ‘they’re mine and they help you so ultimately, it’s all me.’

You began washing some extra pots as you let him know what you were cooking and that it was almost done. You felt him get up and walk over. As he got closer, you quickly put what you were washing down and moved away to the stove.

A look of hurt and confusion flashed on his face for a second but it was gone as fast as it came. He followed to look at the food but kept a little distance. He didn’t understand at all what was going on.

You guys set the table up and ate your meal.

He was extremely silent the whole time and it was a very awkward 25 minutes. He offered to do the dishes and as he grabbed the last one, he leaned in to kiss you out of habit as he said thank you. You swerved and this seemed to be his breaking point.

He froze for a moment but then put the plate down and kneeled next to you. He took your hands in his and he looked into your eyes.

‘Y/N, what have I done? I don’t remember doing anything to hurt you and that may also be bad but whatever it is, I’m sorry. Please just tell me and let me fix it,’ he looked so torn up inside and it hurt your heart to see him like that.

And then you broke. (Because you would be a menace to society if you didn’t finally tell him what was going on)

‘I’M SO SORRY! Hold on… I’ll explain,’ You pulled him off the floor and took him over to the sofa. You both sat down. ‘It was such a stupid idea but I saw this prank on tik tok and I wanted to do it.’

The sad look on his face hurt your soul, ‘so you don’t hate me?’

‘God no! I could never!’ You leaned forward and gave him a hug. ‘I’m so sorry! It was a stupid idea!’

He hugged you back in an instant. You were basically in his lap, his face hidden in your neck. ‘Can we just stay like this for a while?’

You nodded and hugged him harder, ‘Can I turn off the kitchen light first?’

‘I’ll pay your electricity bill.’

‘I was kidding,’ you smiled.

‘Someone has to tell you, you’re not funny,’ you could feel him smirk.

‘So mean and hurtful, for what reason?!’ You jokingly sniffled.

‘Feel my pain,’ he laughed.

‘If it makes you feel better, fine,’ you hugged him a little tighter. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘S’okay. I’m just glad it was a prank.’

‘I love you most.’

‘I love you even more’

A/N: I’m thinking of a part two for this. I dont know. Cus I mentioned a tour so maybe it’s worth playing that out a bit. Lemme know what you think.

Please like and reblog and submit your prompts/requests :)

I’m writing anything that comes to mind right now so suggestions would be great.

[I’ve tried to look over it but if there’s anything that isn’t gender neutral about the reader, lemme know and I’ll fix it]

The following parts will probably not come and this was made as a stand alone story. If you’re still wanting to continue reading after this, go for it :) I just wanted to warn you cus if I were you, Id want someone to warn me.

Part 2

[millersdjarin]

Some Invisible String

Chapter III: Your Smile, My Ghost

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (afab)

Rating: E (eventually)

Summary: Ten years after Reader left Joel for reasons he still doesn't know, they find themselves together again in a town called Jackson. Joel has questions he's too afraid to ask; and Reader dreads having to give the answers.

Chapter length: 3.4k

Warnings/Tags: injury recovery, light angst

notes: hello, hope u enjoy! love and appreciate you <3

I’m starting to think that opting to look after myself wasn’t the best idea. 

I have to pee. Like, really badly. But every time I try to get up my leg just hurts so damn much. The bathroom is across the hall, and it’s cold outside of my bed, and I’m hungry and thirsty with no way of asking for any help, because no one’s around. At least, not anyone that I feel comfortable enough to say Hey, I have to pee, can you help me to the bathroom? to.

A part of me thinks how horrific this would be if I didn’t have anyone to fall back on for help. But it’s kind of irrelevant, because if I didn’t, I’d already be dead. So.

Angela catches me in a moment of shame as I try and fail to hobble out of the room. One of my crutches clatters to the ground and I can’t fucking get it because that entire side of my body hurts, and if I lean down, I think I’m going to pass out from it. 

Angela rushes towards me and grabs it for me. “Here,” she says. “Why are you up?” 

“I…bathroom,” I answer. 

She nods and puts her arm around my shoulders to help me through the hall. “Still in a lot of pain, then?” 

“Yeah.” We save painkillers until night time, so it helps me get some sleep. In the day, the pain has full rein over me.

When I’m done peeing, she takes me back to my room and sits me down on the bed. “Have you eaten?” 

“No.” 

“I’ll get you some food,” she looks at the night stand and sees the three empty glasses of water. “Water, too.” 

“Thank you.” I’m out of breath. Everything hurts, and I’m so weak that I feel like a stranger in my own body. 

“The worst of it should pass soon,” Angela assures me. “It’s only been a few days. The bruising was pretty significant. Once that starts to heal, you’ll be on the up.” 

I nod, though it’s hard to imagine ever being out of pain again. 

Angela hesitates. Then, “Are you sure you’re okay to stay here? I can take you back to my office if it’s easier for you, or I know Joel or Tommy would still be happy to have you until you’re back on your feet…” 

Closing my eyes, I sigh, leaning on one of the crutches’ handles. I don’t want to admit defeat and accept help. I want to know that I can survive on my own. I need to know that. 

But I can’t. If I ever want to survive on my own again, I need to recover quickly. And to do that, I can’t be alone right now. 

“You think they’d still be up for it?” I ask, keeping my eyes shut because I’m just so embarrassed by the whole thing. 

“Honey, Joel asks me about it every damn day. Damn near got angry with me when I told him you seemed happy here,” she chuckles. “You want me to ask Joel, or Tommy?” 

“Joel,” I sigh, reluctant. “Joel. Please.” 

Angela nods, clearly pleased that I’ve finally decided to accept help. “I’ll bring you some food. Then I’m sure Joel and Ellie will be over.” 

By night time, they’ve got me all set up in their living room. 

I can’t manage the stairs to the guest bedroom, so I sit on the armchair while Joel and Ellie set up a bed for me on the couch. Ellie bolsters it with extra pillows from the sofa in the garage, and spreads a clean sheet out over the cushions. Joel hands her a duvet that is probably the cleanest duvet I’ve seen since the outbreak and she spreads it out on top of her work, then finishes it with several pillows.

“Ta-da,” Ellie says, presenting it with her hand and a smile. “I hope it’s comfortable. Joel’s fallen asleep on it a few times by now, but that could just be ’cause he’s old.” 

Joel ignores her teasing, coming in with hot mugs of tea. 

In all the experiences I had with Joel a decade ago, I’ve never experienced something quite so…normal. So pre-outbreak. In this moment, he’s just a guy welcoming a guest to his house for the night with some tea and a nice, comforting fire in the fireplace. His shirt is dark green and washed well, not a drop of blood and barely a speck of dirt on the fabric. His hair looks a little long still, but neat, like he’s brushed it or even trimmed it, and his beard is the best I’ve seen it look since I got here. 

“Hope you like chamomile,” Joel says wryly as he puts the mugs down on the coffee table. It’s just so fucking weird to see this. I love it. 

“I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get to see the menu first,” I retort. 

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Sorry, ma’am. I’ll be sure to mention your complaint to the manager.” 

Ellie plops down on the end of the sofa she’s made up for me and grabs one of the mugs. “Do you mind if I sit here for a bit?” 

“You can lie down if you need,” Joel offers me, handing me the second mug. Steam billows up into my face. I haven’t smelled herbal tea in a long time. 

“I’m alright,” I smile, finding that I mean it. It’s warmer here than it was at the inn. The fire casts such a warm glow throughout the room, combined with the few table lamps that they’ve got scattered about the place. The living room is attached to the kitchen with an arch, the back window looking out at other houses beyond, all lit up with dim orange lights. I’ve not seen anything like this before. 

“I’m glad you decided to stay with us,” Ellie says. “The inn’s nice, and all, but this is better.” 

“Are you hungry?” Joel asks. 

I shake my head. 

“You need anythin’?” 

His concern is comforting and jarring all at once. After what I did to him and Tommy, after just up and leaving in the middle of the night, I’d expected him to hate me. To be angry at me. To at least have questions for me before telling me he’d moved on, from it and from me. “I’m…actually good,” I answer. “Thank you. For letting me stay.” 

Joel nods. He sits on the armchair next to mine, his legs spread with his elbows resting on them. His hands wring together, all callouses and bruises. Still I want to run my fingers over each bruise, each scar. Just like before. Nothing has changed. 

I thought leaving would make it better.

He leans forward, wordless, and picks up his mug. 

For a while, we just drink in silence. It’s nice, but something is hanging in the air that I don’t know what to do with.

“Ellie,” Joel’s voice comes up into the quiet, surprising me. “You mind givin’ us a minute?” 

Ellie looks between us once, then gets up. “I’ll be in my room.” 

Once she’s up the stairs, I look to Joel, a little wide-eyed. His leg is bouncing up and down a little, and I know that means that he wants to say something but isn’t sure how. 

“Out with it,” I say softly. 

A sad smile twitches at the corner of his lips closest to me. The firelight flickers golden against his skin, makes his beard look all the one colour. “Always did know how to read me,” he says to the floor. 

I gulp. My mouth is dry, so I take a sip of tea. God, it’s so nice. He still doesn’t say anything, though. “Joel,” I say, “I understand if you’re…angry at me. I mean—whatever you feel about me, it’s okay. I understand. I screwed you over back then, and I…” I fade off when Joel starts to shake his head. 

“You don’t know what I feel,” he says. Stares down at his mug.

He’s right. 

“No,” I say, “I don’t.” And I don’t expect him to tell me. 

Silence lingers on for another few minutes. I think about taking another sip of tea, about shifting in my seat or even trying to say something into the quiet. But it’s all I can do to stare at him, to take in the side profile of his face, his presence, things I never thought I’d see or feel again. 

“Why’d you do it?” He asks then, unexpectedly. 

“Why’d I do what?” 

His eyes haven’t moved from his tea. “Why’d you leave?” 

Heavily, I swallow. Thinking of the letter, of my smudged handwriting, the way my hands shook. The way I hesitated before I tossed it into the fire. The way I looked at Joel’s sleeping form before taking off, second guessing my decision for just that split second. My heart had ached at the sight of him, and that’s how I knew I needed to go. 

Because, during the apocalypse, you can’t afford to fall in love. 

I thought it was safer, back then, to not tell him why. There was a tiny chance that he felt the same, and if he did, he might have tried to come after me. And the worst part was: I wanted him to. 

“Do you really want to know?” I ask. Because, if he does, I’ll tell him the truth. He deserves that. After all this time, he deserves that. 

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.” 

Okay. 

Okay. 

This is fine. 

Staring down at my own mug now, I exhale, trying not to shake. “You know that in times like these, caring for someone is what gets you killed,” I start. "Especially the way we lived back then."

“I…guess.” 

“You don’t agree?” 

“I…it’s complicated.”

Great. Because we all need it more complicated. “Ellie told me about Tess,” I say, not really sure why that’s the direction I’m going in. 

He freezes. “Why are you bringing that up?” 

“Because you know. You know that caring about someone is dangerous.” 

“How the hell is Tess relevant? I’m asking about why you left me. Years before Tess. Years before any of this.” He’s getting frustrated, and he turns his head towards me, just about meeting my eyes. The fire is reflected in his. “She ain’t the only one I’ve ever cared about since this shit started.” 

“I know. You’ve got Tommy. Ellie now.…” 

“That’s not who I meant.” 

I swallow again, forcing back the nervous tears. “Well. I…Joel…” 

“Just tell me,” he growls. “Please, just tell me. It ain’t bad enough that I’ve been wonderin’ for all these years, that when you didn’t come back I thought you were dead and all this time I assumed—”

“I had feelings for you,” I blurt out. He freezes again, this time with his eyes on me, staring with his head tilted slightly towards me. His body still faces the rest of the room, but it feels like he’s closer to me, like he’s all I can feel around me. 

“What?” 

My breaths are trembling. “I had feelings for you. There. See? You see now why I had to leave?” 

“I…no,” he frowns. “No, I don’t.” 

My eyebrows raise, incredulous. “It was dangerous, Joel! You always used to say that you had to keep your distance from people. We used to say that. I know you know what I’m talking about. I know you, Joel, or at least I used to. Having people close isn’t—isn’t something that feels safe. For either of us. And feelings like that? They’re impossible to get away from. I couldn’t take the risk that it’d put us—you—in danger.” 

He looks away, and I wish he wouldn’t. 

I just stare at him. Breathless. Wishing I had something more coherent to say. “Joel…” my voice comes out quieter than I’d thought it would. “I didn’t want to leave. I just wanted to protect you. I didn’t want to put any of us in danger, and I…didn’t want you to be in the position where you felt you had to reject me. Things didn’t need to be any more complicated than they already were.” 

“Reject you,” he mutters, right under his breath, like he’s saying it to himself. 

“You can understand that,” I plead, “right?” I don’t know why I feel like begging for his forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I don’t even know if I want it from him. It’s easier to believe that he’s angry, bitter. That he just wants to see the back of me once this is all over. 

But I’m sitting in his living room under a blanket that he draped over my lap, holding a mug of tea that he made for me. It’s so clear in every moment I’m here that he doesn’t hate me, and that makes this harder. If he doesn’t hate me, then it means he could…that he could feel…

He stands up. I scramble for something to say to get him to stay. 

“Joel,” I say, “Joel, you wanted to know the truth. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I don’t want to make things weird—”

He holds up a hand. I stop talking. “Just…” he says, “just…give me some time. I just…let me think.” 

I can’t tell him no. 

The stairs creak. We both look up at the same time and find Ellie standing at the top of them, a question on her face. 

“Sorry,” she says, “I just…I needed something from the kitchen. I’ll just…” she starts to turn around, but Joel stops her. 

“No, it’s alright. Come on down. We were just headed to bed.”

Oh. 

Ellie cautiously comes downstairs, standing in the room entrance like she knows she’s interrupted something. 

“It’s alright,” I offer her a smile. I know when Joel is done talking. “We were finished. I’m real tired, and I’ve put you guys out enough tonight.” 

“You haven’t,” Ellie says and relaxes, heading into the kitchen. 

Joel heads towards the stairs. I half expect him to turn back to me, to at least mutter a Goodnight. But he doesn’t.

Somehow, I feel like I’ve fucked things up even more than I already had. Reopening old wounds and making new ones. Maybe even embarrassing myself at the same time by telling Joel the real truth. 

Great. 

Fuck. 

-

The next morning, I wake as the sun rises. 

The curtains in the living room are thin, so the sun shines through them in long, orange beams, casting a spotlight on the dust in the air. I’m comfortable, warm. I'm not in too much pain for once. For a moment, I just bask in all of that. I’m lying in a house that doesn’t have boarded up windows, and I feel safe. 

Footsteps on the stairs gently pull me from my thoughts. I turn my head and see Joel at the bottom of them, wearing pyjamas. Fucking pyjamas. I have never seen that before in my life and, God, it’s a lot to take in. Checked, dark blue sweatpants and an old black T-shirt, showing the expanse of his arms. I don’t know how he isn’t cold, but I’m grateful. 

The look on my face must make him think he woke me. “Sorry,” he mutters, “these damn stairs are always creakin’. You can go back to sleep, I’ll tell Ellie to be quiet.” 

I shake my head. “I was already awake.” 

He offers a smile. It’s genuine, but awkward. Then he walks into the kitchen, and it’s all I can do to watch him. A part of me expects him to say something, to bring up our conversation last night, to bring up anything, actually. Even a conversation about the weather would be enough. 

But instead, he’s quiet. Brooding, more accurately. 

And I don’t feel that I can say anything. He said he needed time to think. 

So I give him it. 

For four agonising days, I give him it. 

He still talks to me, still looks after me with the help of Ellie; brings me food, blankets, sits and reads beside me in silence while I drift in and out of sleep. I wish I could reach out to him, take his hand, get him to hold me. It feels selfish to want those things, knowing that he’s still thinking about our conversation. 

Or, at least, I assume he is. I hope he is. As much as it’s a conversation I never thought I’d have with him, we did have it, and it felt like it wasn’t quite finished. 

But, I consider myself lucky beyond belief that he’s still talking to me at all. 

It’s at the beginning of day five, when I’m finally moving around more, able to go to the bathroom myself and get myself a glass of water, that I decide I’m going to bring it up. I’ll broach the topic gently, give him every chance to tell me he’s not ready. 

I thought that being still and stuck on the couch was bad for making me paranoid about what he could be thinking. Somehow, though, it’s worse now that I’m back on my feet. 

Joel comes to me that morning when I’m pulling on a fresh pair of socks. (A fucking luxury.) He stands in front of my couch, his hands on his hips, not quite meeting my eyes. 

“You alright?” I ask him. 

There’s a look on his face that could be concerned or thoughtful, I’m not entirely sure. “You feelin’ up to a ride?” 

God, yes. “Like, on patrol?” I feel the dull ache of my leg, and debate whether I’m able to do patrols yet. I’d try it. I just want to feel helpful. 

“No, nothing like that,” Joel answers, silencing my thoughts. “Just wondered if you wanted to go for a ride. You know, for fun.” 

“Oh,” I say. I don’t know why I’m dumbstruck. “Yeah. I—I’d like that.” 

He nods and rubs at his beard again. (I wish he’d stop doing that. It drives me fucking crazy, imagining my own hands slipping through those short hairs, running up the sides of his face and into his hair.…) “I thought we could talk. Once we’re out there.” 

“…Okay,” my heart does a little leap in my chest. I gulp down my nerves. “I’ll be ready in ten.” 

“You let me know if you need help,” he offers. “I’ll come by with Felix.” Felix is the horse he’s taken a liking to the most here in town. I’ve not met him yet, but Joel and Ellie talk about him a lot. 

“I can come to the stables,” I offer, even though walking any further than around the house is still a struggle. 

He shakes his head, knowing this. “I’ll come by. Take your time.” And he’s out the door. 

I know I said I was ready to talk—hell, I was going to initiate it—but it just got very real, very fast. I try not to let my mind race as I get ready; try not to imagine all the ways he could say Thanks, but I don’t feel the same about you, and so it was kinda pointless for you to leave in the first place. 

Ten minutes later, I’ve managed to wrap myself up in some good winter gear: boots, a thick coat, scarf, hat, and some cosy gloves. My leg is still bandaged up beneath my pants, but it feels secure now rather than just painful to have something pressing against it. The jeans Maria gave me are a few sizes too big, so that they don’t press against the wound; I’m wearing one of Joel’s belts to keep them up. 

He’s waiting at the stoop with Felix when I get out there, standing beside him with a hand on his neck. 

“Stay on the step, I’ll give you a hand up,” he says. Felix has his side facing me, the stirrup ready for my good leg to fit into. 

It takes a bit of struggling, a bit of grunting as pain shoots up and down me, but soon I’m up and sitting behind Joel. 

“Hold on to me,” Joel instructs, soft, as he gathers the reins in one hand. 

I do. It might be my only chance, so I do. 

{chapter 3/5}

Chapter Two (Previous)

Series Masterlist

notes: thank u for reading! all interactions are always appreciated but comments and reblogs especially make my lil heart go brrrr <3 take care of yourself, it is the most important thing!

ps: some WIP fics i've got in my docs at the moment are actually written in second person instead of first like this one, i'd love to know your opinion on first vs second in reader-insert fics? also pls come and scream about the tlou show with me i have many feelings

[taglist: @rosymythologies @lover1307 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @pinkrose1422 @lavenderhhze @abbyhaslongshortsgshorts @trippoverrt @emilianamason]

[sirianasims]

When Ivy arrived, I tried my best to curb the anxiety, fought to just enjoy my family.

I devoted all of my energy to Hailey and Ivy, did everything I could to be cheerful and shower them both with attention, making sure that Hailey didn’t get too jealous of her new sister.

Samuel doted on the girls as well, but by now the lack of sleep was really getting to us.

Everything in our life revolved around Hailey and Ivy.

At least the arguments died down.

We were simply too tired, often falling asleep in front of the TV at night before staggering to bed.

It was the closest we got to sleeping together these days.

I missed Samuel terribly. Even if our sex life had never been as… exciting as I had once hoped for, it had still been better than nothing.

But between the constant nightly diaper changes and feedings, his crazy work hours, and the lack of sleep, neither of us were really in the mood.

Often, both girls would be awake at dawn, and I’d take Hailey to our bed before going to feed Ivy. If we were lucky, Hailey would fall asleep again and Samuel would get a few more minutes as well.

When I came back to wake him up for work, I would sometimes just look at them for a minute. I loved them so much that it made my heart ache, but my mind kept racing with all the bad things that might happen to them.

I wanted to make it stop, but the harder I tried to ignore the thoughts, the more intrusive they became.

I was still trying to settle into Copperdale, it didn’t quite feel like home yet. But I wanted to make an effort, so I invited our closest neighbour, Amelia, over for tea.

She was a retired teacher whose husband had passed away a few years ago. Now she lived alone in a small house on the outskirts of the town, not too far from us.

Amelia was easy to talk to, and it was nice to have some grownup company for once.

She had three kids of her own, and several grandchildren, although they all lived pretty far away now.

She asked me how I felt about living in Copperdale.

I told her that I loved the nature and living near the water, much like where I grew up in Brindleton Bay, but I also told her a little about my frustrations, about how I felt lonely this far away from my friends and family, especially since Samuel was so rarely home.

Amelia clearly picked up on some of the things I didn’t say.

“Freya, listen. Sometimes marriage gets tough. My husband and I had 35 years together. And some of those years were hard, especially while he was enlisted and the kids were little.”

“But even if we had maybe as much as ten difficult years, that still means that 25 of them were wonderful. And those are the ones I remember.”

She was right, of course.

As we were saying goodbye, she took my hands.

“Freya, you have a beautiful family. It will get easier, you just need to hang in there. And call me if you ever need to talk, or need someone to watch the girls for a while, I would be happy to help.”

“Thank you, Amelia. It really means a lot.”

beginning / previous / next

[pulim-v]

3, 8, 10, 22, 45, 57 for whichever pairing you feel like talking about!

Going to mainly talk about Argentunimbus (Mist x Spark) and Dewtavia (Dew x Octavia) here since those are the only ones I've shown lol

3. Do they wear each other's clothes? (Sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)

Argentunimbus: initially I was going to write it off as impossible due to the size difference, but now I'm thinking of Mist lending Spark his scarf so they'd be able to cover up their neck after he got. Carried away. During a date. (<- holy shit first question and I'm already saying suggestive stuff lmaoo I'm so sorry)

Dewtavia: honestly yeah I can see it, the main case that I can see happening is Via's clothes' heating enchantments malfunctioning, making her feel *really cold* and prompting Dew to lend her their vest. She's also the type to borrow a sweatshirt or hoodie in general lol

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?

Mist is a workaholic dumbass who gets very close to burnout so he'd ignore it and Spark would have to drag him off of work for him to rest

Spark would recognize that they need a break and actually take it but beat themself up over not being able to work normally. Mist would take care of them ofc but also make sure to organize their workload so they have an easier time going back to working after recovery

Dew would probably not realize that they're sick at first so Via would have to tell him to rest. She usually carries some medicine with her so if the two are at the KIT she'd make sure he's well enough to finish his classes, and otherwise she'd just take care of him

Octavia has a few health issues (mainly chronic back pains due to her scoliosis) so she gets sick quite often, and every time she does Dew drops by her house (together with her friends from the Sound Tech course) to help her with cleaning, making food, and generally taking care of her. Dew specifically is tasked with both getting meds for her (since they have a car) and cooking, since while he isn't the best at it he's still better than Via's friends

10. Describe their first date

Argentunimbus: movie date! Spark would ask Mist out so they'd go to the movies (specifically a cheesy sci-fi movie since that's Mist's favorite genre), they'd greet him with a bouquet of blue lillies (Mist's favorite flower) and buy him coffee soda (Mist's favorite flavor), while Mist would make sure to get a nice haircut a couple days before the date, would get the best button up shirt he could find and would give Spark a box of sour candies (since they really like them). Spark would be kinda overdoing it since Mist is the first person they date, but Mist wouldn't mind it, he'd just find it cute lol

Dewtavia: I THINK Via would ask Dew out, and the two would just have a nice lunch in a place they really like, and afterwards they'd go to Via's house and hang out for the rest of the day. Would probably be really similar to how they hung out before they became a couple, just with more kissing lol

22. What reminds each of their partner

Whenever Mist thinks of pushing himself too far, he just. Hears Spark yelling at him in his head.

Spark is reminded of Mist every time they look at the sky and see clear distinct clouds (which is kinda rare on Mount Kimoru)

Dew is reminded of Octavia every time they listen to music (mainly due to his playlists mostly being made by her lol)

Octavia thinks about Dew whenever she has to do any work for her Calculus classes (since they helped her out a lot with them)

45. Can they fall asleep without the other

Yeah for all of them, but there's some interesting stuff here nonetheless, namely that:

Mist feels more comfortable resting in general whenever Spark is with him

Dew usually sleeps listening to one of Via's playlists, since they really help him relax lol

57. Who's the more serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things into the cart?

Argentunimbus: I think they both sorta follow a rigid list of things they need to buy, but given that Spark knows they're impulsive I think they hold back on going outside their list more than Mist does, so he ends up being the one to make more impulsive purchases

Dewtavia: meanwhile Octavia is incredibly specific on what needs to be bought and Dew just adds a ton of little treats both for themself and for Via whenever she isn't looking

Thanks for the ask! This was really fun to talk about lol